#yeah that’ll work out gee

[gregmarriage]

been feeling pretty good lately, and today i’m kinda feelin’ myself™️, and my brain decided to be like ‘maybe i should get back on the dating apps?’ like girlie, what is you doing?

[spidermans-l-o-v-e-r]

Desperately Desired

Pairing: (sort of) Alpha!Eddie Diaz x Omega!Reader

Word count: 1.5k

Notes: Alright look. I don’t- I don’t know how this happened or where I’m going with it (currently still writing) but okay yeah it just. Eddie and readers relationship is n e w and he’s not used to heats okay THAT’LL JUST BE THE SHITTY EXPLANATION AS TO WHY HE DID NOT REALIZE SOONER. I don’t know what I’m doing okay it’s NEW TO ME TOO

P.S you know I hate how short this is but I literally surprised myself mid writing okay. I didn’t see this coming.

Eddie didn’t know what the hell had gotten into you. 

He was absolutely in no way complaining, but you’d been putting him through it lately and a man only had so much stamina after work. Of course, he was legendary, and you’d matched up pretty evenly… but lately, you just seemed a little… how would he put it?

Unhinged? Desperate? Downright pathetic?

And he meant that in the sweetest way, honestly he did. He’s busy changing the laundry as he daydreams about it on his day off because he likes when you get this way, he likes when you’re blissed out on his cock as he thrusts in and out slowly, the slick, lewd, sound of your pussy as he pumps in out always gets him going. 

But lately, you’d been hornier than normal. As he carries the basket back into the bedroom he’s a bit worried when you’re not there, because he’d deliberately told you it was time to take a nap after the last few rounds. 

He sets the basket on the bed, grumbling as he turns around to go find your ass. 

“I tell this girl one damn thing and she can’t do it unless I’ve got my cock in-“ 

You’re standing in the doorway, your arm stretching up and elongating your figure. You bite the peach in your hand and he watches the juices drip down onto your chest. He gulps and completely loses his composure for a minute there, staring as it runs between the plush, golden, valley of your breasts. You seem… shinier? More alluring? He can’t put his finger on it but fuck does he want to 

He’s on his knees in front of you faster than you can even blink, licking the juices clean and you moan softly, letting the fruit fall from your hand. 

“I thought I told you to take a nap” He mumbles against your skin, catching the peach before it hits the floor and taking a bite himself. 

You stare at him, your pupils blown wide, a soft, dazed look on your face. 

“I got hungry” You mutter, reaching forward and stroking your fingers through his hair. He hadn’t said it as firmly as he should have so he’s not surprised you left bed.

He gets up, picking you up with him. A deep growl resonates through his chest as you wrap your legs around his waist and roll your hips teasingly. 

“You look exhausted” he hums quietly, giving you a worried look as he carries you over to the bed “Kinda pale, a bit sickly if I’m honest” he finishes as he sets you in the bed, letting the blanket fall to the floor. You hadn’t used a blanket in two weeks, your temperature had been all over the place lately. 

“Gee, thanks” You give him a sassy little glare and he smirks, climbing over you and settling down next to you. You curl into his body, fully covered by him like you’re trying to climb inside of him. He kisses the little part of your head that pokes up between his arms and smiles softly. 

“If you take a nap, I’ll order from that Chinese place you love” he offers, stroking your back slowly. You hadn’t been eating too much lately either, so he’s secretly begging you to take him up on this. 

You yawn, nuzzling into his chest further, inhaling his overbearing scent.

“Yeah. Sure okay” you say quietly, sleep already lacing your words. He sighs in relief and turns over a bit so his leg is further over your body just like you like 

“Alright pretty girl, I’ll order as soon as you wake up”

Eddie’s eyelids flutter open, his heart beating fast in his chest, and a raging hard-on he can only feel growing worse 

“S-shit. Fuck, baby what are you doing??” He mumbles groggily, wiping his eyes as they start to adjust to the later time of day. 

You’re between his legs, nuzzling against his boxer-clad cock and leaving wet kisses in your path. 

“T-trying to wake y-you up” you pant softly, running your tongue over the wet spot forming on the front and his eyes roll back as he rests his head back on the pillows 

“I’m awake” He reaches down and strokes your hair slowly “Jesus am I awake” 

He listens to your soft little mewls as you keep lapping at the tip of his cock, his fingers sink into your hair against your scalp and he stops for a minute, feeling your head. He moves his hand over your forehead and feels you for a second 

“Baby? Wait you’re-“You crawl over his body, settling yourself on his torso and his hands automatically go to your waist, watching you tilt your head back and start to grind down on his abs, your sopping cunt leaving a little puddle as you place your hands on his chest and grind harder. 

“K-keep going” he encourages you, forgetting all about what he’s worried about as his thumb rubs circles on your clit and honestly he’s never been more glad Buck made him work out with him twice a week. 

He’s nearly as delirious as you are as he watches you wantonly moaning and moving your hips back and forth slowly, rubbing your clit down on his abs. He can feel the little nub dragging up and down the hard ridges of his body and it makes his hips buck up uselessly, wishing he was inside you.

He’s starting to think something is going on honestly, because even he’s been feeling kind of off lately, not to mention you definitely smell different. Sweeter almost? Like he has to fight not to eat you up every second of every day when you’re around…

Buck had been acting weird lately too now that apparently he’s having a whole thinking session while you’re grinding against his abs. He’d been a little more unhinged than normal around Eddie, which… it’s Buck so that’s really damn hard to be. But he’d definitely noticed him sneaking away more than once to get off in the bathroom.

Your head falls forward as you start to pant louder, your arms bending slowly until you’re chest to chest. He stares into your eyes, watching the little hearts radiating as you stare at him, your face is hot and flushed, sweat forming on your brow. 

Oh.

Ohhh…shit.

And then it all falls into place, and he wonders why the hell you didn’t freaking say anything. 

Your head collapses onto his chest, hot sweaty skin against his own, cool and refreshing. It’s painfully clear now that he’s realized it and he’s starting to feel guilty. 

He honestly should have seen it coming when you were hoarding blankets and pillows in the corner of the room and just claimed it was because you were feeling too hot in bed. 

He should have seen it coming when he found several of his missing clothes buried in there as well in neat layers that you just laughed off and said you wanted him closer. 

“Oh, baby…” He coos, lifting your head and really looking at you, he’d been so busy at the station and with family that he’d forgotten the most important thing in the entire world 

He’d forgotten to keep track of your cycle. 

It’s like a switch clicks in his head and suddenly his hands are on your hips, his fingers digging in aggressively as he starts moving your hips faster for you. You let out a strangled little noise of glee as he flexes a bit, hardening them more and you both work your hips faster on his torso. 

“Fuck hurry up and finish, Princess” He growls in your ear, and you feel it, you feel that deep within your core, like a command you can’t help but obey 

“Wanna stuff you so full of my cum, watch it slide down your thighs. Are you gonna be a good girl and push it right back in? Hm?” His fingertips leave bruises on your skin with how fast he’s making your hips move on him the way you cry out and gasp is music to his ears 

“Wanna watch you drown in it” He pants desperately, his primal instincts starting to kick in, boy is he glad he did the laundry. 

His cock starts to poke your entrance with each roll of your hips, your thighs are squeezing his sides leaving him breathless but he couldn’t care less right now, not with the way you’re crying as you come undone on top of him, splashing his chest with your sticky juices, leaving little tendrils shimmering behind as he flips you over and pins you down to the bed. 

“You ready for me, my sweet little omega?” He purrs dangerously in your ear and your eyes roll back as you babble an answer that he’s pretty sure was a “fuck yes”

“Yeah.. that’s what I thought” he chuckles darkly as he plunges his cock inside you. 

[obsidiancreates]

Out Of The Shadows and Into The Neon (Part 16)

“Hey Dooonald?”

“Yeah, Angelo?”

“Ever notice Mikey is starting to sound a lot like Shelldon?”

“Actually I believe he picked up the ‘sufer/skater bro from the 80’s’ lingo from Jupiter Jim XXIV: The Rad-tastatic Wave Through The Time Tunnel’.”

“I meant his actual voice.”

“Oh. Are we finally acknowledging that?”

“So you also noticed it!”

“Yes, yes, I’ve been tracking it, as you see on this chart.”

“Wooooow. So, why’s that happening?”

“The short answer, I don’t know. The slightly longer answer, I do not know.”

“Maybe it’s just a fun coincidence that our boys sound so alike!”

“... Yeah, I’ll settle for that, it’s not the first time someone’s sounded strangely similar to someone else.”

“Uhhhhh what are you two talking about?” Leon leans in the doorway, frowning in confusion at his brothers.

“Just about Mikey sounding a lot like Shelldon!” Angelo says brightly.

“Pffff, they don’t sound that alike.” Leon waves his hand dismissively. “Way more important, are you guys ready for Ultimate Uncles Day?”

“Are we sure we aren’t doing this too close to Vacay Day?” Donald leans his arm on the back of his chair and rolls away from his work desk. “It’s only been a week. That’s a lot of family bonding in a short time.”

“It’s perfect!” Angelo springs up, pulling a calendar down from Donnie’s little section of the lab (the kid has always gravitated towards Paper more than Digital with certain informational storage, and Donald has learned it’s best not to force otherwise– comfort zones are comfort zones, after all). “We can make this kind of thing a weekly tradition! That’ll give us all fresh eyes on any ways we’re coming up short as fathers by being judgemental as uncles!”

Leon frowns. “... Okay… reminding me a little of the whole Unicorn Competition disaster there, bud…”

Angelo flops a hand down. “This is waaay different, Leon! I’m not competing, I’m saying we can balance each other’s strengths and weakness, like in a fight!”

“Still sounding weirdly violent.”

“That’s a you problem,” Donald says matter-of-factly, standing up and stretching. “And to answer your previous question, yes, we are ready.”

“I got all-new spray paints for today, baby!�� Angel whips out two of them to show off. “Raph’s gonna have a great time with the place I picked out! It’s an old skatepark that a community program just got all fixed up, and the one big thing people wished could’ve been kept was the graffiti!”

“Wooow! Now that, is convenient!” Leon nods, impressed.

“And I have gotten Leo and I tickets to not only attend the observatory, but test out their new Interactive Space Travel Experience! A-HA-HA-HA!”

“Niiice! But check… a-this out.” Leon proudly presents.. a receipt. One of Donald’s robotic arms snatches it and he and Angelo read it so closely they’re basically sniffing the words.

“You rented out the whole stadium?!” Angelo looks up at Leon with sparkling eyes as Leon smirks.

“Is that why my safe had pizza sauce on the handle?” Donald narrows his eyes at Leon, who breaks out into a sweat.

“Uhh… nope, that was definitely Mikey trying to get into it.”

“Oh, you did not just frame my son in front of my face!”

“AH! I mean- Raph, did it?”

“Raph did what?” Raphie peeks his head into the doorway. “Leon! Are you accusin’ our boys of somethin’ you did? ON ULTIMATE UNCLES DAY?!”

“Oh, gee, is that the time, Mikey’s probably bored out his mind waiting gotta get going already byeeeee!” Leon slashes open a portal and gets away just as his brothers all jump for a tackle. They scream as instead of landing on Leon they all crash into each other, landing in a heap on the floor.

“Note to self,” Donald groans, rubbing his head. “Install update to Anti-Leon Safe Security Measures.”

“That’s what was happening?” Raphie sits up. “So he got that ten bucks he’d owed me from you?”

“He- ARHG!”

“Well before that–” Angelo stands up and dusts himself off, “– we were comparing Uncles Day plans!”

“Oh, I got the best plans!” Raphie pulls out two tickets. “They’re doin’ a Ametuer Feature Event at the wrestling arena today! It’s got a whole bunch of up-and-comers! There’s even an event where the kids in the audience can have some matches of their own between shows!”

“Oooooh. That is the best one!” Angelo throws up his arms in praise as Donald’s face melts in a jealous bitterness.

“Ha-ha! I know.” Raphie tucks the tickets away again. “Alright, Mad Dogz! … Minus Leon. Let’s get our Uncling on!”

—---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“So, we can just paint whatever we want?” Raph asks as he and Angelo walk to the gate around the park. “Like, anything?”

“Whatever your imagination cooks up!”

“... Can I paint a big cuss word?”

“Wha- you know cuss words?!”

“... No.”

Angelo narrows his eyes for a moment, then laughs and rubs the top of Raph’s head the way one would ruffle the hair on a human child. “Let’s skip the cuss words and keep to the art, okay?”

“Aw… alright.”

They get to the fence and Angelo uses his powers to lift the bag of their many cans of paint over the top. “Alright, lil’ man, need a boo-?”

Raph jumps at the fence and scales it easily, landing on the other side with a grunt and turning back around with a proud look on his face. Angelo grins back. 

“That was great!” Angelo gets over the fence with one jump.

“I’ve got the ‘breaking in’ part of ninja-ing down!” Raph cheers.

Angelo laughs lightly. “Except the ‘keepin’ it secret’ part, kid!”

“Oh. Right.” Raph grabs the bag and, with a great deal of effort (and some subtle unknown weight-supporting mystic help), hoists it onto his back and sets off for the middle of the skatepark.

They get down into the center and Raph plops the bag down, the top falling open to reveal the huge assortment of paint colors, paint finishes, and two sets of gas masks and goggles. They pop the protective gear on and look around.

“I’m gonna start on that ramp,” Raph declares, pointing. “I’m gonna paint… a van! A turtle van!”

“Aw, yeah, baby! Keepin’ it on brand!” Angelo points at the half-pipe next to Raph’s chosen spot. “I’ll be right there if you need me, I’m gonna do some word-art!”

They both grab some cans and get to work. Angelo flows with the feeling, letting the shapes and colors of the letters take him on a journey as the work blossoms, bigger and bigger, details filling in themselves as inspiration flows through him the same way his powers do. He remembers standing on Raphie’s shoulders when they were kids, painting the walls of their childhood lair while Donald and Leon chased each other and Splints’s snores echoed around the huge main room.

That lair would’ve been nice to raise the boys in. It was a little less cramped- but also more sewer, so maybe the tradeoff wasn’t so bad after all. Still, it would’ve been nice to have the indoor ramp for the boys to skateboard on, and the better lighting, and bigger space for the Lair Ga-

Lair games! Oh, man, they haven’t had a Lair Games since before the boys were brought home! The last time they held one was–

… Before Shredder, and The… Aliens.

… How long has he been out of paint in this can? Angelo shakes his head and turns around to grab a new can, trying to ignore the pang of loss in his chest. It was so long ago– why does it still hurt so bad sometimes?

He blinks as Raph suddenly snatches up the can Angelo had been reaching for and dashes away with it again. He chuckles a little, feeling some of that tightness around his heart loosen, and looks up. His eyes widen. “WHOA, LIL’ MAN!”

He’s fairly certain Raph hasn’t used Spray paint as a medium before, but he seems to have figured it out quickly. The van is very impressive, especially for the work of a 3--foot-tall 10 year old. It’s an old volkswagen-style body, with huge monster-truck-esque back tires and smaller, normal tires on the front. It’s a side-view of the vehicle, showing off some kind of dark red armored siding in place of a back sliding door. The top of the van has a turtleshell pattern to finish off the look. Raph climbs up to the top of the ramp and hangs off the side, then shimmies until he slides partway down and plants his feet against the concrete side when he reaches the height he wants to be at. Holding on with one hand he leans closer to his artwork and adds two fin-type decorations to the back of the top of the van.

Angelo gapes at the sight, impressed and astonished. He shakes his head again and walks over. “You want me to hold you up instead?”

“I’ve got it.” Raph looks at his uncle. “Cool, right? Donnie drew it for our comic, before everything got… bad.”

“It is sweet, baby!” Angelo puts his hands on his hips. “I should talk to Donald about makin’ something like this!”

“But you guys have a tank!” Raph slides the rest of the way down the ramp. 

“The tank is for fights, Raph. Vans are for things like family road trips! Going to the park! Mall hauls!”

“Not this one.” Raph crosses his arms and looks at it with a violent sparkle in his eye. “It’s armored and it’s got all kinds of weapons in it!”

Angelo looks over at his piece, unfinished on the half-pipe. The last few letters are done with a shakier hand, messier mind, messier lines– he doesn’t feel like continuing it anymore.

So he uses his powers to float the whole pile of paints over to him and Raph. “How about I help you with adding all those weapons?”

Raph grins. “There’s a million of ‘em! Let’s start with the deer head that shoots fire!”

“The what?! That is genius!”

—---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Uh, Uncle Leon?” Mikey whispers as he clings to Leon’s neck. “I think we’re early, this place is totally empty.”

“Surprise!” Leon grins and slices open a portal to the light switches, flipping them on and pulling his hand back out to throw out in grand presentation. “I rented the whole place out just for us!”

Mikey’s grip tightens, and Leon chokes for a second before Mikey lets go and springs off, pushing his hands against Leon’s head to use as a springboard and effectively toppling his uncle to the ground. His eyes shine as he looks around the stadium. “So we can jump around the whole place?!”

Leo sits up, rubbing his throat and grinning. “Oh yeah! If you wanna do a double front flip off the first row of seats, you can!”

“I TOTALLY DO!” Mikey runs up into the stands and does just that, landing for only a second before springing into a backflip to push off the stand wall and launch himself up again, flipping and flinging through the air and laughing gleefully the whole time.

“Whoa, who needs a basketball when we’ve got you?” Leon laughs. 

Mikey lands and gasps. “You’re right! I’m even the same color, yo! I am the basketball!”

“Guess I should set this guy up in the audience then.” Leon pulls the old, faded, worn basketball out from a small portal. “Maybe I’ll bring Lace-Face in, they can be our mascots.”

“No, no wait!” Mikey zips over, sliding up on his knees and clasping his hands. “Please let us play normal basketball first! Pleeease!”

“Well…” Leon pretends to be deep in thought about it, tapping his chin.

“If I’m the ball I can’t play! And if I can’t play I can’t prove I’m the awesomest basketball player ever!”

“Oh! So this whole thing is a chance to steal ol’ Uncle Leon’s title, huh?” Leon smirks as Mikey’s eyes go wide with realization.

“Uh…”

“How about this? If you win–” A guarantee, this is Mikey’s Day after all, “– I make you a crown officially declaring you The King of Turtle B-Ball. If I win, youuuuu uhh… draw me as a superhero and you as my sidekick!”

Mikey jumps up. “Deal!”

He and Leon head to the center of the stadium. Leon clears his throat and lifts the ball up. “Alright, you know the rules and so do I.”

Mikey, instead of answering, just vibrates with barely-contained competitive and excitable energy.

“And… a-let’s go!” Leon tosses the ball up to start the game. As soon as it lands and begins to bounce up again Mikey starts dribbling it over to Leon’s hoop, his disproportionately large hands giving him a grand advantage in keep the ball from slipping away from him. Leon gives chase, and Mikey gives the ball an extra-forceful slam to send it high into the air! He jumps up with it and slaps it back down at an angle, sending it a good deal ahead of both of them!

Leon stays running at a speed matching his nephew, trying to keep a balance of trying hard enough for Mikey to have fun but not so much that Leon will absolutely win without contest. He’s seven feet tall, has superpowers, and is a ninja master– his nephew is just under three feet, no superpowers, and only has five years of semi-casual training under his little leather belt. The game couldn’t be less fair.

He catches up to the ball first and starts dribbling, turning and making his way to Mikey’s basket. His nephew gasps like he’s been unexpectedly betrayed, and then leaps into the air again. “COWABUNGAAAAAAAA!”

Leon realizes what’s about to happen and scrambles to keep the ball but still move out of the way. “WAIT WAIT WAIT-!”

Mikey does not wait. How can he, when he’s already plummeting back down at his uncle– and popping his head and limbs into his shell for the impact.

Leon ‘Oofs!’ as Mikey slams into him! It’s far from the worst hit Leon’s ever taken, but it’s enough to rattle his brain a little as he’s sent heels-over-head upside-down and Mikey pops back out of his shell to steal the ball back his way. Leon lands in a crumple and blows his mask tail out of his face. “Referee?” he mumbles, dazed for a second, before he sits back up and whistles with his own two fingers.

Mikey freezes just as he’s about to take the shot.

“How about no trying to turn your uncle into one giant concussion while we play for the rest of the day?” Leon calls out.

“I was just doin’ what it takes to win, yo! In the old home movies you totally do and say the same thing!”

“Oy… Okay, can’t argue there.” Leon shrugs. “But… I was being stupid and learned a valuable lesson many years after those were filmed?”

“Pssssh, you were the Lair Games champ! You don’t hold back on anybody, so I’m not gonna hold back either!”

“Oh-ho, you think I wasn’t holding back?”

“Nope!” Mikey grins and spins the ball on his finger. “Old people just get slower in sports! It’s like, science!”

“Old?!”

Mikey blinks at Leon innocently. Leon puts his hands on his hips, and shrugs.

“Alright, mi sobrino. You wanna go all-out? Prepare to face the undisputed champ!”

“AND YOU PREPARE TO FACE– uh, um– DR. SPORTSINSTEIN!” Mikey dribbles the ball, rolls it across his shoulders, and then puts it down and balances on one foot on top of it before kicking it back up to spin on his finger. “HA!”

“Okay, you’re totally showing me how you learned that after this, because there’s no-way it was from any of my bros. And… GAME ON!”

Leon zips at Mikey as quick as he would in a fight, and his nephew yelps in surprise as Leon easily snatches the ball away and not only makes it to the basket, but slam-dunks the ball through in seconds.

The scoreboard above thoonks as the numbers change, 01-00. 

“Whoa…” Mikey isn’t even upset– just amazed. He has stars in his eyes as he stares in awe.

“And that is why my only Lair Games loss wasn’t even a loss.” Leon buffs his nails against his shell. Mikey is still quiet, though, so Leon’s smirk fades as he remembers this is Mikey’s Day. “Hey, I didn’t mean to–”

“THAT WAS SO AWESOME!” Mikey jumps in place, flapping his hands. “THIS IS GONNA BE SO MUCH COOLER THAN I THOUGHT!”

“You- huh?”

“I’M GONNA BEAT THE CHAMP!” Mikey runs forward, goes into a  front handspring, and basically tackles the ball to get it away from Leon. “YOU MAY BE BIGGER AND FASTER, DAWG, BUT I’VE GOT THE DR. SPORTENSTEIN SPIRIT!”

Leon laughs. All-out it is then!

[ang3l0fde4th4ndd0gs]

Prongsfoot Microfic

James’ POV:

Word Count: 1,484

“Come on, Padfoot. You’re taking forever in there. Hurry. We have practice in ten minutes and I still have to shower.”I ramble, knocking on mine and Sirius’ shared washroom door in hopes to get my best friend’s attention enough to rouse him out of there.

“You know you have to get in before me if you want it.”

“Well you’re… You’re just faster this time. Hurry up.”

He finally opens the bathroom door, his long black hair is laid perfectly over his shoulders and his Quidditch practice uniform is adorned in perfect order. A wild smile spreads across his mouth when he sees my disheveled self.

“You’re gonna waste your ten minutes.”he jokes before stepping past me and leaving our dorm to head to practice.

“You don’t-”

He shuts the door behind him before I can finish my sentence. I go into the washroom and shower as quickly as possible, the water being cold now since Sirius took one of his famously long and steaming hot showers.

When I get done showering and get dressed in my uniform, I grab my broomstick from beside my bed and run off to the practice field.Sirius is already there, stretching for warmups. I set my broom down and join him.

“Your glasses are still foggy, Prongs.”he teases me.

“I was a little distracted.”

“By what? Find some girl you can’t get off your mind?”

“Yeah, something like that.”

“Ooh. Now I’m intrigued.”

“Tell you later.”

After practice is over, we both speed through the showers since we’re exhausted and head back to our shared room. Sirius dramatically flops onto his bed. Remus walks into the room only minutes after Sirius and I do.

“Prongs you were distracted today.”Remus says.

“Yeah, I think it’s some crush on one of our teammates.”Sirius replies before I can answer.

“I’m never getting out of that, am I?”I ask, blushing nervously.

“Nope. Now who is it, Jamie?”

“I’d just like to say, this game is rigged.”

Sirius laughs. “Clearly. Come on. I’m your best friend. You tell me everything.”

Remus looks between Padfoot and I, clearly putting the pieces together like he always does. “James can I talk to you out in the hall for a second?”

Sirius pouts. “Can I come too?”

“No, Padfoot. Just go to sleep or something. We’ll be right back.”

I get up from where I’d sat down on the end of my bed and follow Remus out into the hallway. He closes our dorm room door behind us.

“You have it bad for Sirius, don’t you?”he asks.

“How do you know?”

“Because normally you’d just say it if it wasn’t something you thought would mess your friendship up with him. But you’ve caught feelings and now that’s scary for you.”

“I just have feelings. It’s fine. They’ll go away. Maybe we’re just such good friends that I picture him naked… I dunno.”

“That’s not how that works, actually.”

“I don’t know what to do, okay? I don’t usually deal with this.”

“You go in there and tell him. Even if he doesn’t feel the same way, you should at least let him know there’s something there for you. That way you can just move on and deal with your feelings however you need to.”

“I don’t want to lose him.”

“Believe me, you won’t. He’s too much of a pain in the ass for that.”

“I’ll talk to him, I guess.”

“Better idea. You two suck at talking.”

“Okay…”

“Just go in there and kiss him. I’ll go to the library or something. Might work better than if I’m sitting right there.”

“I… You sure that’ll work at all?”

“Yeah. He’s not good at relationships and frankly, neither are you.”

“Gee, thanks Moons.”I deadpan.

“You know what I mean. Just go talk to him. I’ll see you two later. You’d better be dating or at least fucking when I do.”

“Okay, okay.”

He leaves to go to the library and find something to do. I turn back towards our dorm room door. I just stand there for a minute, trying to talk myself into what Remus told me to do. After a few minutes of that, I finally manage to open the door. Sirius is laying on his bed with his headphones on listening to something. To my advantage, he has his eyes closed. I cross the room in a few steps and kiss him hard. He doesn’t kiss back at first but leans into it after a second, grabbing hold of my tshirt in his hands and tries to pull me closer. In a surprisingly swift and coordinated movement, I grab onto his thighs and pick him up, pulling his legs around my waist.

“Shit… Prongs… What was that for?”he mutters, breathless when we pull away.

“I have feelings for you. I didn’t really know what I was supposed to do with it.”

“Telling me might’ve been a good start.”

“That seemed difficult.”

“Apparently. Don’t get me wrong. I don’t mind this method much either. Felt amazing.”

I laugh nervously and kiss him once more. He smiles against my lips.

“Remus’ll be back soon.”he mumbles.

“Nah, he’ll be out for the night.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, he kinda put two and two together. Figured out that I wanted to be more than friends.”

He kisses me deeply again, not letting me say anything else. He slides his hands underneath my tshirt and pulls it off me. I let him and he tosses it aside.

“Gotta say, wasn’t expecting to go this far right off the bat.”I tease him.

“Does that mean you want to stop?”

“Of course not.”

“No? You sure?”

“Very.”

He kisses me a few more times. I lay him down on his bed and lean down, pressing soft and sensual kisses to his neck. He moans and gently tangles his hands in my dark brown hair.

“Fuck. How is this so easy. And so damn hot. Oh my god.”he mumbles, softly moaning between sentences.

“Maybe we’re just lucky.”

“Clearly you’re good at it.”

“Am I now?”

He nods, gasping as he gently grinds against me. I bite down on his neck, barely being able to quiet my moans. I continue biting and sucking his soft pale skin, covering his neck in marks. He moans louder and louder.

“Maybe I should stop.”I tease him, sitting up and resting on his hips.

“Don’t you dare.”

I unbutton his shirt. “You don’t mind getting in trouble?”

“Not when the trouble feels like this.”

“So you’re mine then?”

“Hell yes. Might as well prove it.”

“How so?”

He sits up and takes his shirt off, tossing it aside. “Make me moan your name, make me brainless. Fuck me so hard we can’t even bear going to class tomorrow?”

“Sounds hot.”I run my hands over his gorgeous tattooed skin.

“Mm mhm.”

He flips our positions.

“Which means I don’t have time for this.”he says.

“Oh?”

“I’m already horny. The making out and neck kisses got you started.”

“Oh really?”

He grinds against my thigh. I bite my lip. He gently digs his nails into my chest. I gasp softly.

“Shit, Padfoot. Don’t stop.”I grind my thigh into his cock.

He moans, leaning his head back. “Oh fuck that feels so good.”

“Fuck me, please.”

He gets up and drops to his knees at my feet. I sit up. He unzips my dress pants.

“Love…”I mutter.

“Hm?”

“Please~”

“Patience.”

“I don’t have that. Not right now.”

He pulls my dress pants and boxers down in one go and wraps his hand around my cock, his mouth wrapping around the tip before he begins to bob his head, I moan, laying back as I thrust into his mouth. He moans around the shaft and sucks, looking up at me.

“Fuck, just like that.”I moan.

He bobs his head faster, making me moan louder as my fingers find their way into his hair. In seconds, I’m coming hard down his throat before I can stop myself. He smirks as he pulls his head away with a quiet pop.

“Holy shit.”I mutter, breathless.

“Yeah?”he teases as he gets up and takes his dress pants off.

“That felt amazing.”

“I could tell. You sound so damn good.” He straddles my hips. “Bet I sound better.”

“Oh you do. Infinitely so.”

“Let’s see if that’s still accurate.”

He positions himself over my cock before slowly lowering himself down, moaning as he slowly lowers completely down. I moan, wrapping my hands around his hips.

“Baby, you’re perfect.”I mumble.

“I know.”

He starts to slowly ride me, picking up his pace almost immediately. For hours we’re both moaning and coming over and over again. By the time we’re finally tired, we cuddle up together in his bed. He pulls the sheets over us.

[chasingstardustandmoonbeams]

Sincerely Yours (IV)

A/N: Repost from my old blog: sohoneyspreadyourwings

Word Count: ~3k

Story Masterlist

October 1944

The days seemed to be dragging on for you. It had been a week since you had heard back from Eugene. You didn’t allow yourself to go to that place. The place where something could have happened to him. Instead you kept your mind busy with your job, which in all your time working there, hadn’t gotten any easier. 

But some insane twist of fate, you had been getting to work early. Not on time, not late, but early. Your roommates and your coworkers had been looking at you as if you had grown a second head. But you just kept your head up and went about your job. All the boys overseas were counting on you all, and you weren’t about to be the one to let them down. 

The lunch bell finally rang, and you found yourself letting out a long sigh. Making your way down the ladder, you found Josie looking at you. She leaned against a work counter, arms crossed over her chest as she looked at you. 

“You look like a damn mess,” she said, brown eyes trailing over you. 

“Well, gee Josie, you look swell yourself,” you huffed at her. Pushing past her, you made your way outside to go and grab some food from one of the stalls. 

“Still haven’t gotten a letter?” She asked with a much softer tone than you would have given her credit for. 

“No,” you answered. You felt anxious, your head swimming with thoughts you didn’t want to think about. A cool breeze hit you as you both stepped outside. For once the San Francisco weather matched how you were feeling, cloudy and forlorn. 

A part of you wondered why you cared so much. You had only written a handful of letters to him. Not even enough to know him well, and yet you could help but feel a connection to him. Like a string tethered you both together across the ocean. And every time either one of you got a letter it was like the other was pulling on the string to say ‘you’re not alone! I’m right there with you!’.

Silently, you paid for some bread and soup for you and Josie to share. You both sat silently on a bench watching as the seagulls flew by overhead. 

“You’ll get the letter soon,” she whispered. 

Neither of you turned to look at the other, instead fixing your gaze forward.

“You don’t know that, Josie,” your voice wavered just a bit. Your emotions getting the better of you again. 

“Yeah, well,  you don’t know that you won’t get it eithers” she challenged. Her voice was firm, but gentle. A combination that seemed to be like Josie herself. 

“Do you think I’m being a complete fat-head here? Getting emotional about a guy I never even met before?” You almost regretted asking the question as soon as it left your mouth. Josie wasn’t one to beat around the bush, and a part of you was fearful of what she might say. 

“No, you’re not being a fool. You’re being you, a person who cares so damn much they don’t know what to do with it all. I don’t know what it is about this guy, but whatever it is it means something to the both of you. So you need to buck up, and wait.” 

You finally turned to look at Josie, who was shoving a piece of bread in her mouth. If you hadn’t known her you might have thought that she looked angry, or passive about it all. But you knew better. The subtle softness in her eyes couldn’t fool you. She cared. About you, about this mess that she had partly gotten you into, she cared almost as much as you did, if not a little more. 

“Though I have to say, if you end up marrying him, I’m expecting to be your maid of honor. I am kind of the reason you started writing to each other.” 

“Josie!” You yelled, softly wacking her arm. “I don’t even know what he looks like!” 

“Does it matter at this point?” She challenged, her eyebrows raised in question. 

“No, it doesn’t,” You mumbled under your breath. 

“That’s exactly what I thought. Now, the next letter you get, you ask him if he has an available brother, or someone in his company for me,” Josie was smirking at you, half joking and half serious. 

“Oh, that’ll be the first thing I write” you laughed, enjoying how nice it felt to feel a rush of happiness for the first time in a while. 

“It better. I’d like to snag a marine too if I can. You know I like a man in uniform” 

“Josie!” 

“It’s true!” she laughed. 

Both of you continued to laugh for a few more moments, relishing in the feeling of not having to worry about anything. Just living in that one singular moment, where nothing else seemed to matter. It was finally cut short when you both realized it was time to go back to the shipyard. 

Reluctantly, you both got up from your seat. Josie swung her arm around you as you both started the walk back. 

“Your man is southern right?” she pondered. 

“He’s not my anything Josie, let alone my man,” you huffed. 

“You think he’s got a nice accent? I feel like he has a nice southern drawl you know? That I think makes him more attractive already.” 

“Josie,” you whined, but that only seemed to spur her on more. The rest of the walk you had to endure her teasing. And though it might have annoyed you, it just further reminded you of why you loved her so much. 

The rest of your shift had passed by eventfully. The rest of the girls, Flo and Rita, had been gossiping away about something or other.. And with your aching back and feet, all you wanted to do was go home and sleep. 

You finally got your wish, almost well into the evening. Every bone in your body seemed to ache as you made your way home. The cable care had been less packed than usual allowing you to stretch out a bit. Closing your eyes, you enjoyed the sounds of the night life. It was quieter now than before the war. Jazz used to be heard in almost every corner, but now everyone was attending to more important things. 

You couldn’t remember the last time you had actually done anything fun, like going out dancing or even going to the movies. Instead your life revolved around the war effort, and you weren’t one to complain, but you did miss the easiness of it all. When this war finally ended you imagined life would never be as simple as it was before, and that was just going to have to be something that you lived with. 

When your stop finally came up, you happily, albeit slowly, made your way out of the car. Thanking the conductor, you began your short incline to your home. No matter how long you had lived in the city, on days like this one, the hills were always more trouble than they were worth. 

Quietly, you made your way inside your home. You imagined that Dot and Gloria were already in the middle of their night time routines, but you were surprised to find Gloria sitting tiredly in the kitchen. She was already dressed in her nightgown, curlers in her hair, as she sipped from a mug. 

“You’re home late. It;s not right the hours they make you girls keep,” she said softly, her eyes downcast on her mug. 

“Could be worse” you said, making your way over to her. 

“I guess you’re right,” she said, letting out a small laugh. “Oh, you got a letter today. I had to fight Dot for it, but it’s in one piece. Girl is more nosey than a mother hen.” 

Gloria slid the envelope to you, and you had to all but stop yourself from quickly snatching it up. 

“Thank you, Gloria. I don’t know why she has it out for me” you said as you picked up the envelope gently cradling it in your hands. 

“I think she’s jealous of you. You don’t worry too much about what other people think, unlike her.” Gloria’s eyes were fixed on her mug as she gently cradled it in her hands. 

“You never told me you had a friend over there” she whispered. 

“It’s kind of...new” you offered. And if it had been anyone other than Gloria you were sure they would have pried. “Are you okay?” you asked. 

“I’m fine. Just one of those days you know? I should get off to bed now. I have an early morning” Giving you one last smile, Gloria made her way up to her room. 

Briefly, you debated opening the letter right there on the spot,but you thought better of it. Grabbing something quick from the kitchen, you made your way upstairs to clean up for bed. You were only slightly ashamed to say that you had made quick work of it. But the contents of the letter seemed to be more important than anything else. 

Having finally cleaned up, you nearly jumped on your bed where the letter was. With nimble fingers, you opened the letter. Your heart began to pound at the thought of what he might have written. 

Dear Y/N,

    I do apologize for the late reply. I find myself in almost a state of disillusion here on the island. One horror after the next seems to chip away at a man’s soul in ways I never could have imagined. But I do have to say that you and your letters seem to be just about the only thing keeping me grounded anymore. I’m not ashamed to say I re-read your last letter an obscene amount of times. Each time I read it my smile just about gets bigger. 

    I don’t know how to quite thank you for that. No one has ever done anything like that for me before. I can’t imagine the time and money it must have cost you to do such a feat. But I suppose I’m in your debt. And if I’m to be in anyone’s debt, well then, I’m glad it’s you. Though please do thank your friend Josie for me. 

    Your pictures are magnificent, and I don’t think you give yourself enough credit for your photography skills. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a city like yours before. Mobile is beautiful as well, but not in the same way that your city is. I think if I ever make it out of here, I’d like to see it for myself one day. 

    If we’re choosing to be honest with each other in our letters then I must confess to the disappointment I felt when I didn’t see you in the picture clearly. Though I suppose I’m just going to have to live with the disappointment, unless of course you decide to humor me. It would be nice to put a face to the name. 

    I will end by saying that my wife will care just as much as your husband does, seeing as she too doesn’t exist. Though I don’t seem to mind these turn of events either. 

                            Sincerely Yours, 

                            Eugene 

You felt as if you were soaring. Your heart which had been frantically pounding from nerves, was now pounding from a different kind of rush. They were just words on a piece of paper, yet somehow they had burned themselves into your brain and it seared themselves into your heart. 

You both seemed to be the others anchor holding tight and fast so the other didn’t float away. It was a daunting task to be sure, but it was not one that you would back away from. If anything it made you want to run head first into it. 

With tired eyes, you reached for a loose piece of paper and a pen. Twirling the pen you tired to think of the right words to say. With bated breath, you began to write. You’d mail it first thing in the morning before work. You wanted to make sure that Eugene got it as soon as possible. 

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

October 1944

His mind was drifting again to that place. The one where he would lose himself, and forget who he was. Keeping notes in his journal helped to keep his head straight at least for a while. The bloodshed never stopped, and neither did his thoughts. 

It was a harsh reality he was living in, and the only escape he had from it were the letters he got. His mother had been writing to him dutifully, reporting on the happening back home. Every time he thought of Mobile, it seemed like such a faraway place. Like it was a dream that he had been woken up from. 

Eugene felt the heat of the sun beating down on him, and as squinted at his journal, trying to keep his thoughts together, his mind drifted to you. He knew he’d have to wait a while to hear from you, he had after all taken a bit longer than he would have liked to give you his response. But he had seldom had time to eat and drink, sitting down and writing had been a priority that he had had to push back, not that he wanted to. 

His bones ached as he leaned against the boulder. Eugene tried to think of a day that had gone by since he left Mobile where his bones didn’t ache, but he couldn’t think of any. His body was littered with bruises and cuts, and his own soul seemed to ache just as much if not more than his body. 

Absentmindedly, he touched his breast pocket. His fingers itched for a smoke, but also you. Along with a measly pack of cigarettes, he kept your picture there. He might not have been able to see you well, but it was still you. His letter writing angel. 

He felt himself blush at the thought. You might not have a husband, but that didn’t mean that you weren’t going steady with anyone. Eugene felt jealousy creeping up on him at the thought. Squeezing his eyes shut, he tried to push the thought out of his mind. He had no right to feel jealous. Who was he to you? Besides some faceless soldier on the other side of the ocean?

His hands clenched into fists, the whites of his knuckles showing. Taking a deep breath to steady himself, he felt a light tap on the shoulder. 

“You got a letter, Sledge. Thought I’d pick yours up for you while I got mine” Bill handed him the letter and went to sit by himself to read his own. 

Eugene almost couldn’t believe it when he saw your handwriting written across the front. Sitting up straighter, he moved to open the envelope, but stopped just before he finished breaking the seal. 

You must have written to him the same day you had gotten the letter. There was no other way he would have gotten a reply so quickly. Not letting himself get too happy over the revelation, he finished opening the seal, to take out the letter. 

Dear Gene, 

    You never have to apologize for a late reply. I can’t imagine you have much time for anything, let alone writing a reply to me. But I do appreciate the thought. I won’t pretend to imagine what it’s like for you over there. I don’t think my words or sympathies would do you any good. But I hope if you do find that you're losing who you are, you remember the people who love you. Even with everything you’ve seen and done. 

    I am happy to know that my last letter helped you. All I can say is that while it did take me nearly an entire day, I still firmly believe my endeavor was worth it for you. Though, now I think you're just being sweet by praising my skills in photography. I am abysmal at it. End of story. Though I do have to say, if you ever do find yourself in San Francisco, I think maybe I’d like to show you around in person. 

    And if we are being honest with each other, well then, Gene I will admit how excited I was at your disappointment. And though I would like to end your misery, I have to deny your request. You see, why should you get a pretty picture of me, when I can’t have a picture of you? Fairs fair, Gene. It seems we’ll both have to suffer with not knowing. 

    I should end this letter by asking you some type of question like ‘do you own any pets?’. But instead I’m going to say that I don’t much mind the turn of events either. 

                                    Sincerely Yours, 

                                        Y/N

Elated was not the proper way to describe how Eugene was feeling. He knew he was grinning from ear to ear, and yet he couldn’t find it within himself to try and hide it. Not only had you said that you’d personally show him around your city given the chance, but you were just as happy that he was taken. 

Your words took root in his mind, making a home there in a special place he had just for you. And while it burned him a little that you wouldn’t send him a picture of you, it was offset by the fact that you would want a picture of him. 

For now he’d have to settle for words, and a blurred image that he had of you in his mind. But he was more than happy with that. 

As his company got ready to move once more, he carefully tucked away your letter away with the rest. His thoughts lingered on you, a welcome distraction from the hell around him. Eugene felt a pleasant pull in his gut, a lingering effect of you. 

He’d have to find a way to write to you soon, but for now he had to focus on staying alive enough to do so. That didn’t mean he wouldn’t pull out your picture and think of you fondly, wishing for just a moment, he could hear your voice or see your smile. 

[duskamethyst]

love.

a/n: happy valentines day! have this spicy content for now but if you’re looking for high-cocky bastard-suna, this ain’t it. sorry.

word count: 2.3k

genre: smut, nsfw, fluff

warnings: soft dom, orgasm denial

pairing: pro!suna x f!reader

summary: suna got you a gift for your anniversary. wonder why he likes it so much..

“hm? a bracelet?” you take out the shiny jewelry out from the crimson box, inspecting it in your hands. there’s a letter ‘R’ that gleams with its rhinestones and a bell that chimes as you jiggle it. 

“close,” your boyfriend smiles when he catches the fascinated look on your face. “it’s an anklet.”

suna takes the ornament from you and drops down to his knees to fasten it around your ankle. he takes a good look at it, pondering briefly over how he made a good choice to get it for you as an anniversary gift. 

you look over your ankle intriguingly, shaking it slightly to hear the bell ring in response. 

“it’s so pretty!” you beam excitedly and kiss him in thanks as he raises back up on his feet. “then you have to put on the perfume i gave you too.”

suna raises an eyebrow, “perfume?”

“shit–” your hand flies over to cover your mouth instantly by reflex and you shake your head. “i didn’t say that.”

your boyfriend laughs as he takes the nicely wrapped present and shakes it in a feigned attempt to figure the not-so-mysterious content, “gee, i wonder what it could be.”

“oh, i don’t know. guess you have to find out.” you reply in the same sardonic tone, suppressing giggles as you watch him rip off the paper unceremoniously. 

suna blinks once, twice at the box and glances at you before looking back at the box that is engraved with a name that he’s aware to be high end. he’s not very materialistic but he knows for sure that it costs more than you can afford for yourself and the thought of you forking out so much money on it makes his heart swell. 

“well?” you grin sheepishly as you wait for him to say something. 

“babe, this is..” he sighs, brushing a hand through his brown locks. “how did you even–”

“don’t mind that! put it on!” you chide.

suna shakes his head and chuckles as he opens the packaging to pull out the expensive bottle. he takes off the lid and takes a whiff of the manly scent, yet has no idea what the contents are. he guess he should wear it often if you like the scent so much, especially since you’re the one who chose it for him. he sprays the cologne on his wrist and rubs it with the other before applying it on the back of his ears.

you don’t remember how many bottles it took to find the one that you absolutely would like on him but you know you’ve made the right choice when the aroma has proven to suit his character very well; sexy and alluring.

“you smell so fucking good.” you sigh in content as the scent begins to fill your senses.

“is this your way of saying that i always stink?” he forces an offended frown but the slight upturn at the corner of his lips tells you it's only superficial. 

“yeah, you reek. especially after your practice.” you tease before suna envelops you into a warm hug. 

“but i won’t wear it to practice.” he mutters as he caresses your hair gently. “it’s a waste if the guys are the only ones who are going to smell it.”

“that’s fine. you can always wear it around me.”

suna pulls away to look at you, blankly staring at you with his dark and narrow eyes. “and, you shouldn’t be giving me expensive stuff. i won’t even mind if you didn’t get me anything. you’re more than enough for me.”

“but–” 

“no buts.” he places a small kiss on your lips. “still, thank you for this.”

you smile and counter back with a kiss, “happy anniversary, rin. i love you.”

“i love you, too.” he taps your nose with his finger before picking you up off your feet and cradling you in his arms, making you squeal in surprise. “now that we’re done with that, time to put that to the test.” 

“put what to the test?” you look up at him with curiosity as he carries you towards your shared room, leaving the empty plates of your homemade dinner behind. 

“why do you think i got you something with a bell on it?” he grins slyly before throwing you on the bed and causing the bell around your ankle to chime from the result of the impact. 

warmth creeps up to your cheeks as you put one and one together, “you wouldn’t..” 

“oh, yes i will.” suna climbs on top of you, pale yellow irises swirling like flames as he gazes deeply into your eyes before leaning down to slip his tongue past the barrier of your lips in an amorous kiss. your hands find their way to his nape, pulling him closer to deepen the kiss.

suna swallows down your moans as he hastily works on taking off all his lower garments and grinds his erection against your sex, soothing the throb that he has been keeping inside his pants the moment he put on the ornament around your ankle since his mind just kept on wandering at the thought of how he has been wanting to put it on to good use. 

he breaks the kiss to plant wet, soft kisses down your throat, suckling and nibbling on the sensitive skin that he knows will have you whining underneath him while his large, calloused hands massages your mounds through the flimsy dress. 

“you’re so pretty,” he whispers against the crook of your neck as tugs down the straps off your shoulders and lets it fall on your arms. “i love you so much.”

with a little maneuvering of your arms, you manage to slip out from the band and allow suna to pull down the dress completely. your nipples harden from the cold air yet they find heat once he wraps his lips around one, tongue dancing and circling around the erected tit while he tweaks the other between his thumb and index finger that sends jolt of sensations down to your bundle of nerves.

your lips part in soft, heavy pants while your fingers seek refuge in his dark hair by tugging it lightly before he pulls away with an audible pop to suck on the other. his hand trails down on your inner thigh, drawing circles with his fingertips on the erogenous zone and purposely avoiding from tracing closer to your heated core. 

“rin.” you whine while the bell resounds from underneath as you part your legs wider and buck your hips reflexively. 

“hmm?” narrow, hooded eyes look up at you mischievously from below. suna unlatches his mouth, watching as the nipple perks up harder and becomes more swollen from his ministrations. “you’re ready for me, aren’t you?”

you feel your cheeks warm up, “i don’t know, why don’t you get down and see for yourself?”

“whatever you say, princess.” he chuckles and shifts downwards until his head is settled in the space between your thighs.

“shit, you’re really a mess down here.” he muses, thumb grazing against the dark patch that has formed on the thin fabric. “all from me just sucking your tits?”

suna tugs the sodden garment down, tongue darting out to sweep his bottom lip as his eyes dissolve into red of passion and lust. it’s more intense than you imagined, but an impassioned loop twists in your stomach as you study his next, calculated step. 

shivers of pleasure rushes throughout your body the moment you feel his warm tongue flattening against your wet slits. with skills and practiced strokes, his tongue laps off your slick greedily before teasing and sucking on the throbbing clit. your toes curl and the bell rings as you attempt to close your legs together, but suna spreads them apart from crushing his head.

his lustful gaze fixes up at you, observing every twitch of pleasure and the way your lips part in soft, needy whimpers. you gasp at the abrupt intrusion of his long and slender fingers, yet you gladly welcome him as the muscles clench to keep him within.

“does it feel good?” he whispers, kissing the soft skin of your fleshy thigh when he notices your legs tremble. 

“s-so good, rin.” you mewl, nails digging into the sheets while the fabric crumples in your fists as you find purchase. his fingers curl and drag against the spongy walls, making you keen in excitement that your hips begin to pump desperately to match his rhythm. 

“you’re so needy.” a sense of pride soars in his chest, conscious of how much your pleasure lies in him and only him. he continues rubbing and digging, somewhat in search of something; certainly the spot that he’s aware that’ll make you beg for him hopelessly. and when he finds it, he doesn’t miss the way you tense up and giving him the drive to stroke the same spot mercilessly. 

“shit– right there!” you look like you��d almost cry. the way your hips are jerking uncontrollably is telling him that you’re going to break soon and before that happens, suna draws away his fingers and you immediately throw a scowl his way. 

“what?” his voice is taunting and he wears a smirk of a victor which makes you all the more frustrated. 

you huff, “so mean. on our anniversary night, too.” 

suna lifts himself off you to get out of his shirt. no matter how much you’ve seen him bare and naked, your eyes always marvel over his toned chest and chiseled abs; those he gained along by being a professional athlete since a couple of years ago. you lick your lips to return moisture on dry skin as you watch him pump his throbbing cock in front of you while he puts on an expression of bold seduction.

“you don’t have to look so scared. you wanted to cum so bad, didn’t you?” he sneers, obviously confident over how thick his cock is and how it can stretch your tiny little hole so good.

you roll your eyes playfully, retorting in a snarky tone, “oh, i’m so scared. please don’t put that thing inside me!”

his lips curl into an amusing smile, finding it endearing how you played along with his pretense. “don’t worry, i’ll treat my princess very gently.” 

suna leans down to lick a fat strip of your essence and mixes with his saliva before propping up on his knees and dragging your body closer to him by the waist. he carefully throws the leg adorned with his gift on his shoulder and kisses on the side of your knee before fixing his dark gaze downwards, where he slowly guides and observes the way his cockhead slowly disappears into your dripping entrance. 

a low grunt rumbles in his chest as the walls suck him in deeper, clamping around him like a vice and refusing to let go as he continues to bury his cock deeper inside your pussy. your eyes flutter close, lips part slightly as you revel the way he stretches you while the veins and ridges brush against your muscles deliciously. 

“so good for me, princess.” he praises with a sharp breath, having you completely filled to the brim before he finally snaps his hips and making your body jolt in return. his pace is unforgiving and with the angle he has set you in, his tip keeps on pounding against your cervix. 

the slapping of your skins fills the cold air, mingling with the sounds of your moans and the erratic chimes from your bell that he was so eager about. an unknowing grin etches on your lover’s lips as every jingle that fills his ear fuels up his ego and he finds himself to pound into you faster while the sounds behind him follow in accordance.

“hah– rin– so deep!” your orgasm is quick to build up from the prior interruption, the muscles in your stomach begins to tighten and your legs quiver. 

“you hear that, baby? the bell telling you how hard i’m fucking you right now.“ he rams his cock senselessly to make the bell jingle wilder in a way to prove his point.

“rin– i–” 

“baby wanna cum?” he coos, smirking down at you as the image of your writhing body ingrains in his mind.

you nod your head affirmatively, face contorting in one that expresses bliss as your mind swirls with excessive gratification. yet your eyes snap open as soon as you feel a sharp sting on your thigh. 

he releases the pliant skin from between his teeth, “use your words, princess.” 

“please–” you let out a broken cry. “wanna cum–” your toes curl with anticipation as you will yourself from coming undone before you are granted to do so.

“that’s– fuck– better.” he grunts, thrusts turning sporadic as you begin to squeeze and clamp down on him. “then cum, baby. you deserve it.”

suna brings up his thumb to your aching bud, generously pressing tight circles in order to push you over the edge and a wave of pleasure washes throughout your body as you moan his name in a chant. your pussy gushes around his cock, which makes it all more stimulating for the male and he pounces harder through your high in pursuit of his own orgasm while the noisy rings from the bell soon becomes white noise.

“that’s it– you feel so fucking good.” he feels his balls tightening before his cock twitches and he bites roughly on your leg as he shoots warm load inside your tight cunt. you squeal from the pain, wiggling your leg away and he completely lets go. 

he chuckles lightly and gently rubs the dents on your skin, “sorry.” 

once he’s sure he has emptied, he pulls out his softening cock and finds his place next to your warm body. you turn to face your lover and he gladly welcomes you into his warm embrace. 

“i love you.” he whispers, pushing aside the damp and matted hair from your face to place a soft kiss on your forehead. 

you hum in content, vision darkening as he continues to play with your hair soothingly while the sound of his heartbeat sings you a lullaby. “i love you, too.”

duskamethyst © 2020 • do not modify, translate or repost anywhere.

[passivenovember]

mama said to smile while I still have teeth.

(or) Post Starcourt, a very different Billy Hargrove gets his wisdom teeth removed.

--

In a moment of weakness and textbook junior year assholery, Steve gets his stomach ripped out and fed to him for suggesting that Billy could take the bus.

And it’s not without reason.

Hopper and Joyce have work. And Robin would ask too many questions--why the shaved head, why the ratty black hoodie and sweatpants, why the perpetual vow of silence--and the only one of the kids that has their permit is Dustin.

But Max behaves as if none of that matters. Looks at Steve as if he set the house on fire himself.

“Or you could take him.” She sneers. Like that’s somehow a good idea. “You have a car.”

“Billy wouldn’t get in a car with me even if you paid him.” 

Steve doesn’t say he’d rather face a barrel of Demodogs one handed than be left alone with Billy. Would rather lick black slime off his own dick than feel those silent, cool blue eyes pouring like ice water down the ridges of his skin.

Steve wants to say it. Doesn’t. When Max starts crying. “His legs don’t work as good anymore.”

“Billy gave me a concussion.”

“He’s got gas money.” She says, voice winding tight with desperation. 

And Steve despises the painful, weeping grip of her fingers when they close around his forearm. Hates that she cares so much for someone who could never care for her.

“I know it’s not much.” Max swallows thickly. “I know he used to be a piece of shit, but he’s--”

“Different.” Steve says heavily, scrubbing at his forehead. “I know.”

--

Billy slides into the passenger seat with a thermos in one hand and a cranberry muffin in the other and Steve isn’t used to it, the way his body seems to have deflated. Limbs cut from marianette strings, hanging limp as if gravity hasn’t quite learned what to do with them. 

Billy places the muffin and the thermos on the dashboard between them, and.

Steve expects something.

A thank you, which could come later. A hello, which should come now.

Billy nods at the dashboard.

Steve jots into action. “Oh. These aren’t for you?”

Billy grunts, reaching to pass the goodies over as if Steve were incapable of doing it himself. The thermos is warm in Steve’s hand. Sturdy. 

“Coffee?” He asks, jerking with surprise when Billy mutters; “Hazelnut.” In a voice as soft as feather down. 

Steve waits for Billy to say something else, but. 

Billy doesn’t. He just turns and peers out the passenger side window, into the gentle swell of rain that’s started to fall.

“Thanks. Thank you.” Steve says. He starts the car. Lets it warm, and. 

Tries not to feel like this is the first time their bodies have had to reacquaint themselves with one another. 

Tries not to marvel at how beautiful silvery thin lines can be. Running from the shell of an ear and disappearing, quick, into the hood nestled around broad shoulders. 

Steve rubs his hands together, tearing his eyes away. “First time at the dentist?”

And Billy doesn’t say anything. 

Never says anything, anymore, but. That doesn’t stop the conversation from feeling communal. Shared.

“I got my wisdom teeth out when I was fourteen.” Steve peers through the windshield. It’s raining harder now. “Don’t remember much about the whole thing. Mom says I tried to stop the aquarium fish from drowning. And that I had to be double belted on the way home--”

“Will it hurt?” Billy turns to look at him, and. His eyes are welling up. Cheeks and nose red, as if stung by October winds. 

Billy whispers, “I wanted Max to come but she had school.” 

His hand is covered by the sleeve of his hoodie, fabric scrubbing rough at the stubble along his jaw. “Did they hurt you?” Billy asks, and.

Steve doesn’t like the way he says it. 

Like there really is something to be afraid of, at the core of it all. Like no one has ever considered the possibility.

“It’s not so bad.” Steve’s heart gives a painful, gripping thud. “You get a free ice pack out of the deal and decent high from the silly gas, if you’re lucky.”

Billy nods. “We’re gonna be late.”

Which. “Yeah, sorry.” 

“It’s alright.”

“We’ll get you there lickety-split.” Steve pulls out of the driveway, fingers gripping the wheel when Billy places the still-warm muffin in his lap.

--

He sticks around for the procedure just to stop Billy from looking like he’s being dropped at his first day of kindergarten. The waiting room is bright. Warm and colorful, plush couches stocked full of overstuffed pillows. All within throwing distance of machine labeled free coffee :)

Not a bad dig, all things considered, but.

Billy says Steve doesn’t have to wait around. Doesn’t even have to come back at all. The nurse calls his name and Billy stands, shoulders lined with tension, before turning to whisper, “I’ll take the bus back to Neil’s.”

And Steve knows. Gets it. 

The universe running a test. An experiment that will prove whether Steve’s really got a heart under all that chest hair. 

Steve lifts his Highlights magazine. “I’m good.”

“Really?”

“Dude, It’s pouring outside,” Steve says, shaking his hair out for good measure. “I’ll just wait. In case you’re too high to function.”

Billy looks like he wants to say something else, so. Steve gives his full attention. Plans on the preverbal thank you that’ll probably never come, but. The nurse calls that name again. 

Billy Hargrove.

And Billy turns to go, hands tangled in the sleeves of his hoodie. 

--

His cheeks are swollen, like. 

A chipmunk. 

Stuffed full of little cotton pads that could be acorns. That are acorns, Billy insists, when the nurse brings Steve back to the operation room. He’s parked on the dentist bench. Curled into a ball with a thumb in his mouth when Steve rounds the corner. 

“Steve,” Billy says thickly. “They took my teeth out but I have acorns.” He reaches across the space between them, fingers grasping Steve’s wrist tightly.

Too tight, but. 

Steve can’t bring himself to care when the nurse says, “Billy, take your thumb out of you mouth.”

And Billy says. “I need to suck on something cold.” He pulls Steve right up to the edge of the bench, sitting with a serious glint in his eye. “Our acorns will be good for winter, right?”

He sways, nearly falling off the leather table, so.

Steve grasps his shoulder. Puts him back in place. “Probably? I don’t think acorns go bad.”

“We gotta make sure, ‘cause I don’t want you to starve.” Billy slurs, dropping to dead weigh when the nurse gets an arm underneath him and asks Steve to get the kid on his feet. 

Billy lands somewhere against Steve’s ribs, swaying dramatically as bright red drool slides over his chin. 

The nurse swears under her breath, going at it with a towel. 

Billy swats her hand away. He staggers as Steve thanks the nurse and leads them into the waiting room. 

“You’re so pretty, Stever.” Billy reaches out again, fingertips poking Steve’s eyelid. “Can’t starve for the winter. Gotta get pretty boys their acorns--”

“Stop poking me--”

“Acorn soup.” Billy sings. “Acorn pie and casserole and lollipops covered in sugar.”

Steve manages to get the doors open with zero help from Billy, chuckling as warm, soft palms circle around his shoulder blades. 

They’re hugging. 

In the rain. 

At the dentist’s office.

Steve hugs back, squawking when Billy’s nose brushes against his heartbeat. “C’mon, dude, we gotta--”

“Will you carry me, Stever?”

“No.” Steve says, manhandling Billy from his chest to his ribcage, determined to make it across the lot in one piece. “You’re solid muscle, there’s no way I could carry you.”

Billy makes a noise, pretty pink lips forming a pout when Steve looks over at him. 

“I got all the acorns ready for winter and you can’t carry me to the car?” Billy grumbles, leaning against the side of the Beamer while Steve gets his key into the lock. 

Steve untangles himself from the arms that fold around his waist. “Billy--”

“You smell like grass.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“No, like sweet grass.” Billy cackles, doubling over at his own joke, and. Pulling Steve down with him. “Sweet ass, right?”

“You’re insane.” Steve whispers, somehow out of breath from. The hands on his neck. He let’s Billy pet through his hair and then Steve yanks on the door handle, opening it, like, “Alright. Get in.”

Billy has more blood on his face. “Wanna sit with you.”

“We will.”

“Can I lay on your chest?”

Steve’s face hurts from smiling. “You won’t fit.”

“I could!” Billy whimpers, jerking away from Steve as he tries to get the blood off his chin. “I could be like a kitty cat--”

“Would you just--” Steve gets his hands on him, wiping at Billy’s mouth with his thumb. “Hold still, alright?”

“Alright.” Billy kisses Steve’s finger. Chaste and quick, gone before either really know what’s happening. Those blue eyes pull Steve in, drink him down. “How come you’re so pretty?” Billy asks. 

And. “Dunno,” Steve says, sounding just as out of breath as he feels. Like they’ve been running laps, and. 

Steve thinks maybe they have.

All around Hawkins. Through the years. Past each other. 

Billy holds still under the weight of ten fingers before frowning. Sticking his little swollen lip out. “Can we go home now?”

Steve backs away, gripping the edge of the door. “Sure.”

“Not to Neil’s,” Billy mutters to himself, leaning into the leather seat when Steve gets his limbs folded into the car. He cranes his head, eyes huge and watery. “Can I hang out with you?”

Steve moves to close the door. “Sure.”

Billy stops him. “Are you mad at me?”

“No, Billy.”

“Then why are you trying to close the door?” Billy demands, peering through narrowed eyes. 

Steve chuckles at that, squeezing the fingers that curl into the palm of his hand. “We gotta close the door so we can drive the car back to my house.”

Billy yanks his hand away. “Your house.” He says, as if tasting the words on his tongue.

Steve nods. “Do you want to go to my house?”

“Do you have macaroni and cheese?”

“Yeah, I can.” Steve wills himself to stop smiling. “I can make some after you take a nap.”

Billy stops the door from closing again. “I’ll be cold if I try to sleep.” 

And he says it like.

No one’s ever believed him. Billy speaks with an anchor in his voice, the weight of it pulling Steve in. Forward, until he understands. 

Steve grips the edge of the door. 

Nods. Let’s Billy know that there are ways around it. 

Billy’s crying, and. Steve doesn’t want to see him cry anymore. Every again. They’ve been through too much. He takes Billy’s hand and squeezes tight, smiling softly when cool blue eyes peer up at him. 

“Then we can eat macaroni and watch T.V.--”

“We can?”

“Yeah,” Steve says softly. “And when you’re ready to go home I’ll take you. Keep you safe.”

He moves to close the door, chucking when a firm, sure hand holds it in place. 

Billy stares at him. “What if I never wanna go home again?”

Steve thinks about it, tapping his knuckles on the hood of the car. He shrugs. “Guess we’ll cross that bridge when we get there, yeah?”

“Yeah.” Billy says.

This time, when the door is closed, Steve runs to the other side. Not wanting to miss a single moment.

[person8789]

Adventures Through Twisted Wonderland- A Twisted Halloween

Book 4: Reckoning Night

Part 2

Previous, Next

Spoilers!

Click pics for better quality

We continue of the reckoning night with Octavenelle, Scarabia and Pomefiore~

I just wanted to mention I think it’s really cool how each dorm is utilizing the strengths of each of the students in order to ensure that their plans will work. Personalities, venues, unique magics, looks, skill set, dynamics, and even status was all used to the students’ advantage.

Lmao the fact that this could just be him throwing shade Floyd’s way

HE’S SO EXTRA

It’s giving… DDLC poem vibes. Or any of the culprits in the chapter 3 trials in a Danganronpa game. Or just something similar lol

LMAO I love how Azul was like genuinely surprised too when he first said it

Yeah, gee, I wonder.. 🙄

I’m glad he was about to scare the shit out of everybody, especially after all of that shit talk from Jamil, I’m very proud of him ❤️🖤

Yeah, you would know about that, wouldn’t you, Rook? 🤨🤨

Cause if my memory serves me right you have an entire album of photos of Neige..

Lmao he’s being such a gremlin about it I love

That’ll be all for this part though ✌️

[organabanana]

Up against the (glass) wall || Supercorp

Chapters: 1/1

Fandom: Supergirl (TV 2015)

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: None

Relationships: Kara Danvers/Lena Luthor

Characters: Kara Danvers, Lena Luthor, Alex Danvers

Additional Tags: Lab Sex, absolute nonsense, lena luthor protocol but it's smut, alex would like a very long vacation, Oral Sex. oh rao     

Summary: Frustrated by the lab's glass walls and lack of privacy, Lena decides to use her genius intellect to build something that'll allow her and Kara to have some alone time in between missions. Alex really only wanted to put her scientific skills to use in the lab, but she ends up discovering Lena's prototype is not quite as successful as it originally seemed.

Notes: this is the result of a totally serious and normal conversation with @emiltons and I feel like it’s 100% her fault tbh.

[ao3 link]

It starts with Kara arriving at the Tower after a particularly challenging mission. She could’ve flown straight home for a shower and some well-deserved rest, but she knows Lena can’t sleep while Kara is on duty, and she knows exactly what her girlfriend does when she can’t sleep. So Kara walks straight to the lab and smiles at the sight of Lena in her element, inventing what Kara has no doubt will be yet another world-saving gadget for them to use.

For a moment, Kara just watches her, grateful for the glass walls allowing her to see her girlfriend work without having to use her powers at all. There’s something soothing about the way Lena works, slow and methodical and precise even when she’s doing it just to keep her mind from drifting to Kara and the dangers she faces as Supergirl. And really, there’s no reason Lena should worry for a minute longer than strictly necessary, so Kara finally pushes the glass door open and walks into the lab.

“Hey, I’m ba—“ Lena turns around so quickly, wraps her arms around Kara so tightly, that Kara can only let out a quiet chuckle and hold on, enjoying the closeness and the scent of Lena’s hair filling up her lungs as Lena lets the tension of the last fourteen hours dissolve into the hug.

“Hey, baby,” Kara tries again, softer this time, breathed against the skin of Lena’s temple, “are you okay?”

Lena nods, lips pressing against Kara’s neck for a parting kiss before she finally pulls away from Kara’s arms to take a good look at her.

“I am now,” Lena says, eyes narrowing just so as she takes in the rips on Kara’s supersuit. Fingertips touch the torn fabric on Kara’s waist and across her left bicep, the smudges of dirt and pulverized concrete on her neck and cheek. “Are you?”

Kara grins. “Takes a bit more than a collapsing abandoned building to stop your girlfriend.”

And then Kara flexes her biceps, playfully, just because she knows Lena gets a kick out of her playing the confident jock from time to time. She definitely (she swears!) isn’t thinking about her supersuit and the small tear right over her left bicep, and she absolutely isn’t anticipating the way the fabric rips over her flexed muscle.

But.

As innocent as Kara is in all this, and she cannot possibly overstate how innocent she truly is, she’s not complaining at all when Lena tilts her head just so, green eyes fixated on the torn fabric and the bulging muscle underneath as she slowly licks her lips.

“Oh,” Lena says — breathes, really — as she arches one eyebrow, “I see.”

And then she reaches up and traces the ripped fabric once again, fingers pressing just so, like she’s testing just how fitting that Girl of Steel nickname really is.

“Who else is here?” Lena asks, voice low and darkened green eyes fixated on Kara’s, “Are we alone?”

“I, um—“ Kara struggles to make her brain cooperate and process Lena’s words when it feels like every single nerve ending in her body has been rerouted to that exact spot Lena is touching, “I think J’onn… lives here?”

Does M’gann live here also? Kara doesn’t know. Kara doesn’t care. Kara can’t quite breathe right.

“It’s pretty late,” Lena says, and her voice sounds like sun-warmed honey tastes, “I’m sure he’s asleep.”

And Kara swears she tries to think about it. About whether it’s past J’onn’s bedtime, about whether J’onn has a bedtime at all, and about whether martians even sleep in the first place. But suddenly Lena’s free hand is grabbing Kara’s and guiding it down, down, down under her skirt, and Lena’s lips are pressing a warm kiss to Kara’s jaw, and Kara suddenly realizes what’s going on.

“Oh,” she breathes out, blue eyes fluttering closed for a moment before they widen in shock at the realization of what’s going on. “Wh— here!?” Don’t get her wrong, she makes no move to stop the path of Lena’s lips towards her ear or pull her hand away from the warm soft skin of Lena’s inner thigh, but still. You know. “Lena, we can’t—“

“Can’t we?” Kara can feel Lena’s smile against her skin, and the way Lena’s teeth graze her earlobe makes her fingers inch just that little bit higher up Lena’s thigh. “Why not?”

What an excellent question. Kara tilts her head to the side to give Lena’s lips and teeth and tongue free access to her neck as she tries to find the part of her brain that knows why they can’t actually have sex in the lab.

“Because…” Kara sighs happily at a particularly well-placed kiss, “…it’s kinda rude?”

She feels Lena’s chuckle rather than hears it, and it makes a little shiver run down her spine. “It’s rude?” Kara can’t see Lena’s eyebrow, but she’s sure it’s arched so very prettily right now. How unfair. “This is my lab.”

And you know, Lena makes a good point, Kara figures, hand moving further up under Lena’s skirt. This is Lena’s side of the Lab. Her office, sort of unofficially, ever since she became an official member of the team. But still…

“You’re such a goody two shoes,” Lena teases, pressing herself a little closer against Kara.

“I mean, I’m Supergirl. It’s kind of my th— oh —“Lena’s teeth nip at Kara’s neck, completely derailing her thoughts for a moment, “—thing.”

And Kara is almost ready to give in. She’s almost ready to accept that yes, this lab counts as Lena’s home away from home so it’s perfectly fine if they want to get frisky in it. Her hand finishes its trek up Lena’s thigh and finds damp lace waiting for her, and frankly, they’re grown ups. She’s a whole super heroine. If she wants to fu—

“Formic acid!” Brainy’s voice reaches them just a second before he walks into the lab, which is lucky because it gives Kara just enough time to disentangle herself from her girlfriend at the speed of light.

Brainy stares through the glass wall separating the main lab from Lena’s smaller area. His eyes move from Lena to Kara and then back to Lena again, brow furrowed just so as he tries to figure out exactly what’s not right.

“Formic acid?” Lena prompts as she opens the door, voice entirely too level for someone who’s just been nearly caught with her girlfriend’s hand between her legs.

“Ah. Yes.” Brainy nods. “Formic acid. Nia’s neighbor has ants. It gave me an idea for the antidote we were talking about earlier. I think if we just—“

“Tomorrow. Brainy.” Kara interrupts him with a smile, hand wrapping around Lena’s wrist to pull her towards the exit. They have things to do. Private places to be.

“Tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow,” Lena agrees, grabbing her coat on the way out of the lab. 

***

It’s been three weeks since the formic acid incident — as Kara lovingly remembers it — when she gets to the Tower after a mission once again to find her girlfriend deep in thought at her desk.

There’s nothing particularly special about it this time. It’s early afternoon, her foes were rowdy but easily manageable, and her supersuit looks impeccable. And yet, when she walks through the glass door, Lena gives her a look.

A Look.

Oh, that look.

Kara knows the look. Knows what it means. And she very nearly offers to just fly them home right away to save themselves the pain of having to stop halfway through to relocate, but you know what? It’s a bit hard to think ahead when Lena Luthor in a deep burgundy dress is walking towards you with that look on her face.

“That was a quick mission,” Lena says, shaking her head just so to make her ponytail swish in a way Kara’s pretty sure should be some kind of illegal, “those bad guys were no match for Supergirl, huh?”

Kara is blushing. She can tell. She knows because she’s having to employ all her kryptonian strength to keep herself from saying golly or aw, gee or a number of other things that would frankly ruin this whole big super heroine fantasy Lena has going on right now. And who is she to ruin her girlfriend’s fun?

“N—no,” Kara manages, voice slightly higher than normal, and she clears her throat before continuing, “I’m super strong.”

Nailed it.

“You sure are,” Lena says with an amused smile, because she’s very sweet and she loves Kara too much to laugh at her, “do you wanna show me how strong you are, Supergirl?”

Kara nods. And then she remembers where they are and shakes her head.

“We should— I can fly us home.”

“But, baby,” Lena takes one slow step right into Kara’s personal space and Kara feels her brain begin to shut down, “I want you right now.”

“It—“ Kara is trying so hard to do the right thing here, she swears, even if her hands are already on Lena’s waist and she’s already pulling Lena close and Lena smells so very good, “but the walls, Lena.”

Kara can tell Lena is trying very hard not to laugh.

“The walls?”

“Yeah,” Kara presses a quick kiss to deep red lips, just because it feels rude not to acknowledge how delicious they look, “I get what you guys were going for with the… futuristic sci-fi interior design, but all this glass is not very private, baby.”

Lena grins. And it’s not just a regular charmed grin. Not the normal one she shows when Kara says something sweet or funny and her heart gets a little fluttery in her chest (Kara’s heard it). No. This is something else. This is the smile Lena wears when they absolutely destroy everyone at game night.

Lena’s won. What exactly she’s won, Kara doesn’t know yet. But oh, Lena has absolutely won… something.

“You know, you’re right. They’re not very private at all. That’s why I made this.”

Lena shows her what looks to Kara like tiny remote and pushes the button.

Lena Luthor protocol engaging.

Kara cocks one eyebrow at Lena, who simply shrugs as a small robot flies from under her desk.

“I named it after the original one. For nostalgia’s sake.”

Kara stares in confusion as the small robot hovers nearby and points what looks like a camera at them. Except it’s not a camera. It’s… some kind of spotlight?

“What’s it doing?” Kara can see the light inside the robot, can see it pointing the ray at them, but she sees no change in the lightning of the lab.

“It’s making us invisible.”

“What? I can see you,” Kara looks down at her hands on Lena’s waist, “I can see me.”

“That’s because you’re not looking through the glass. Look there,” Lena says, pointing at a polished steel surface on the main area of the lab. There should be a reflection there… but there isn’t one.

Kara stares, blue eyes wide and lips parted in surprise. She’s seen plenty of impressive tech since becoming Supergirl — let alone what she grew up with in Krypton — but this is something else.

Of course, the fact that Lena’s body is pressed up against her own, and the fact that she developed a whole new technology just to be able to get frisky in her glass-covered lab may have something to do with it.

“What do you think?” Lena does this thing she does where she sort of arches against Kara’s body in a way that makes Kara’s brain feel like it’s sloshing about in a sea of Lena’s perfume, and then presses her lips against Kara’s jaw, and to be honest Kara isn’t thinking at all right now.

“Wh— what?” One of Kara’s hands slides down from Lena’s waist to the curve of her ass, grabbing a handful of it as Lena’s teeth oh-so-gently nip at Kara’s bottom lip. “Wh—“ Kara tries again, barely above a whisper, but frankly she’s much more interested in kissing Lena like she means it — like she deserves to be kissed — and she completely forgets she’s been asked a question in the first place.

“Kara,” Lena pulls away from the kiss, lipstick a little bit smeared, cheeks a little bit flushed, breathing a little bit stilted, “I asked you a question.”

And you know, Kara is sure that’s true. She’s, like, so sure. But Lena is taking a step back to lean right against that sleek glass wall and pulling Kara along, and Kara’s brain is powerless to process anything beyond the fact that her girlfriend is practically begging her to have her way with her up against that wall.

And that’s… well, that’s something.

“Yeah,” Kara chooses to answer, because frankly she’d say yes to anything Lena asked right now and she’s a bit busy kissing up the path of freckles on Lena’s neck to care about the actual question right now, “yeah, baby, of course.”

Normally, Lena is far from pleased when she detects even a hint of Kara trying to placate her with mindless agreement, but this must be working for her because all Kara feels under her lips is an amused giggle right as Lena’s fingers slide into blond hair.

“What do you think of the new protocol?” Lena’s voice has a touch of teasing weaved into the words, like she knows the question is ultimately irrelevant but she likes watching Kara struggle to form coherent thoughts while horny. And, you know, Kara can respect that.

“It’s so good,” the hand that’s not on Lena’s ass moves up to cover Lena’s right breast, and Kara celebrates her own incredible luck by pressing a kiss to Lena’s lips, “you’re so smart,” another kiss, this time to a smile Lena can’t quite contain, “my genius girlfriend.”

Lena’s blunt fingernails lightly scratch at Kara’s scalp, making her hum happily against Lena’s lips. “You’re just horny,” Lena teases, her tone clearly stating just how happy she is that’s the case.

“And humbled! By your genius intellect.” Kara squeezes Lena’s ass and kisses the tip of Lena’s nose, because she’s cute and Kara knows deep down there’s a little part of Lena that will always need to hear how good she is out loud. “I can do both. I’m Supergirl.”

Lena chuckles, low and soft, and rewards Kara’s thoughtfulness with a kiss. “Well, Supergirl,” she says, shooting her girlfriend a look that hits Kara right between her legs, “if you’re feeling humbled, you may as well show me how much.”

And then. Then, Lena uses her grip on Kara’s hair to gently tug down, just so, just enough to make Kara’s eyes widen with the realization of where Lena wants her. On her knees. At Lena’s feet. And frankly, Kara files this under things they absolutely need to explore further, because she swears she feels her body temperature rise by at least a couple degrees.

But she’s not about to make Lena wait. So Kara slowly sinks down to her knees, blue eyes locked with green just so Lena can see. So Lena can see Supergirl kneeling at her feet.

When her right knee touches the floor, she hears Lena’s breath catch in her throat.

“Go on,” Lena says, upper back leaning against the wall, “show me.”

Kara nods, hands wrapping around lena’s thighs and slowly sliding up, up, up, bringing Lena’s pencil skirt along with them. She can’t resist kissing every inch of soft, warm skin she uncovers, lips trailing a path up one of Lena’s inner thighs and then the other, until all she needs to do is push the bunched up skirt up over her hips and ass to reach the lacy (Kara is willing to bet) fabric of her—

“Oh,” Kara breathes out, staring at the spot where Lena’s panties should be but decidedly aren’t. And Kara, to her credit, manages to look up into green eyes and shoot her girlfriend a teasing smirk along with a fake scandalized look. “Miss Luthor.”

There’s a dusting of pink across the bridge of Lena’s nose that Kara finds frankly unfair given the circumstances. “Well, I knew the prototype would be ready by the time you came back.”

“See? Genius girlfriend,” Kara smiles as she presses a kiss to Lena’s mound, pulling a happy little sigh out of her, “so smart.”

And then Kara stops talking, because she has much more important things to do with her mouth. Things like kissing the slick skin of Lena’s inner thighs, humming in delight at the smell and taste of her girlfriend and the way Lena’s fingers fist in her hair.

Kara takes her time, lips and teeth and tongue exploring every inch of Lena’s cunt but pointedly avoiding her clit, just because she happens to think there’s no sound more beautiful than the way Lena says please.

“You look so good down there,” Lena says, breathy and flushed, “right—“ her breath catches in her throat, and Kara smiles between Lena’s thighs, “—there.”

And this is why Kara will never really mind the way Lena teases her and makes her blush and stumble over her words. Because she knows the tables turn as soon as she’s between Lena’s legs.

“Where, baby?” Kara asks, her face the perfect picture of innocence as she presses a soft kiss just shy of Lena’s clit, “Here?”

Lena’s eyes flutter closed and she leans her head back against the glass wall with a smile. “Kara.”

She’s never Supergirl when they’re like this.

“Here?” Kara’s teeth gently nip at one of Lena’s lips, and then the other, “Or here?”

“Kara, please.”

And there it is. Right there, the most beautiful sound in the world.

So Kara decides to reward Lena by finally flicking her tongue against a stiff clit before wrapping her lips around it, and she doesn’t hold it against Lena when she pulls on Kara’s hair instead of saying thanks.

All slowness and teasing forgotten, Kara puts her lips and teeth and tongue at Lena’s service, letting Lena hook one leg over Kara’s shoulder to give her better access as she uses her hold on Kara’s hair to pull her closer still.

Kara feels like she’s drunk on Lena’s taste and smell and the sound of the moans she’s struggling to stifle. She can taste just how close Lena is, she can feel it in the way her thighs quake and her breathing gets more and more stilted and her hips rock harder and faster against Kara’s tongue.

“God, Kar—“ Kara hears the sound of Lena smacking one hand over her own mouth, keeping herself as close to quiet as possible — Kara is delighted for her own superhearing that allows her to hear it all anyway — as she rides Kara’s mouth.

She’s so close. So close Kara feels the one leg holding Lena up shaking perilously as a quiet moan escapes between Lena’s fingers, and Kara is just in time to prop her up with one hand as Lena finally comes, head tilting back and hitting the glass wall with a soft thud.

And that — exactly that moment — is when Kara freezes at the sound of someone walking towards the lab.

It’s been a while since Alex has been alone in the lab. It’s been a while since she’s been in the lab at all, to be honest. And that doesn’t seem fair, right? She may not be Lena or Brainy, but she’s a scientist! She can do science things. That formic acid conundrum they were talking about the other day?

Alex could have helped.

But do they ever ask Alex for scientific input? No. All Alex is good for is apparently acrobatic crime-fighting and daring make-up choices.

And she’s ready to prove her worth. So after checking that nobody’s already in the lab, Alex walks in and starts looking around. Innocently, of course. She’d never do anything really intrusive like go into Lena’s personal area or mess with Brainy’s future toys. No, no. But she’ll look around. Check out what they’re doing. See if anything looks like it could be solved by an actual medical doctor, thank you very much.

And then — then she hears it. Some kind of… thud?

On the other side of the glass wall, cloaked by Lena’s invisibility robot, Kara braces herself with one hand on the wall as she holds Lena up with the other. And Kara may be Supergirl, but there’s something to be said about trying to be quiet while holding Lena through a frankly earth-shattering — if she may say so herself — orgasm with her face still between Lena’s thighs.

It takes skill.

And Kara is managing just fine, mind you, until Lena twitches in a way Kara wasn’t expecting, and Kara loses her hold on her for just a split second before she presses her up against the wall once again.

Alex narrows her eyes. The thud she could ignore, but she swears there’s the faintest outline of a handprint on the glass. And just when she’s about ready to chalk it all up to sleep deprivation, she hears a… squeak. The unmistakable sound of skin sliding against glass.

And now it’s not just the handprint there. There’s something round next to it. Something like—

Wait.

Is that the outline of an ass?

“Oh my God, Kara!” Alex turns around, voice climbing higher in both pitch and volume as she speaks because she doesn’t know whether she’s just seen the outline of her sister’s butt or her sister’s girlfriend’s butt but either way she’d very much like to have her memory wiped right now. Is J’onn home?

“Not this again!” She continues, somewhere between horrified and desperate. To be fair, she’s never walked into invisible wall sex before, but she has interrupted a frankly worrying amount of heavy make-out sessions for the time Kara and Lena have been together, and she’d really rather not think about what those two would have done had she remained asleep for a few minutes longer the last time she agreed to a movie night.

It’s a pattern of emotionally scarring behavior, is all she’s saying.

“And you know!” Alex turns around, eyes squeezed shut because she does not want to catch even the slightest glimpse of that assprint ever again. “You know,” she bangs on the wall for emphasis, just once, “I’m all for pride, but there is such a fucking thing as a healthy amount of shame!”

Alex stomps out of the lab, and her aggravated footsteps can still be faintly heard in the distance when Lena clears her throat. She’s blushing bright red, but her voice sounds remarkably steady for someone whose left leg is still hooked over her girlfriend’s shoulder.

“Joy,” Lena says, and the sleek virtual personal assistant on her desk whirs to life. “Protocol prototype version 1.0 partially successful,” she dictates, “consider one-way glass going forward.”

“Oh, oh! And Joy?” Kara pipes up from between Lena’s thighs, “Please order Alex a ‘we’re sorry’ pie.”

Lena simply nods. “Make it strawberry this time.”

[nice-kill-tanaka]

🌄Karasuno 3rd Years + Confessions🌌

A/N: lowkey, these turned into crush scenarios too 😭can’t blame me for getting carried away. these beautiful boys are too perfect ❤️

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🎋Daichi Sawamura🎋

If I'm being honest? Daichi would probably take an agonizingly long time to realize and act on his feelings for you

My dude literally never noticed Michimiya's feelings for him, so do you really expect him to be that in touch with his own feelings?? Nah, he's too busy parenting approximately ten teammates (eleven if you count Suga in his more chaotic moments)

He would have to have known you for more than three months for a crush to form

And even more time after that to get it through his thick skull that what he’s feeling isn’t just immense respect for you

But, once Daichi realizes that he wants to date you, he’s gonna be very careful about his approach. I.e. presenting himself as boyfriend material rather than friend material

Offering to walk you home, giving you moral support with your hobbies, hell, even making you lunch once every few days!

In his head, he’s got his official confession all planned out:

He’d take you on a walk around town (Or a jog, depending on your athletic prowess)

And at the end of said activity, you’d both stop at a place where you can see a beautiful sunset. And you would sit there while you cooled down

Dude brought snacks and everything 😪

And while you guys ate and talked about whatever, he would find a good stall in the conversation to explain his feelings

“You know...I’ve liked you for good while. You’re everything I never knew I needed in my life. If you don’t feel the same way, we can keep being friends and that’ll be fine. But, I want to be closer to you. So...how does a date sound...?”

However, if you decide to confess first, sure he’ll look fine on the outside. But, his train of thought just had a literal catastrophic crash

He wanted to be the one to make the first move

Wait...his crush on you was reciprocated??

Wtf??

He’ll snap out of his surprised stupor when you ask if he wants to go out and watch a movie at some point

“...Hm? Oh- yeah! I’d...I’d love to go out with you.”

\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

🍄Koushi Sugawara🍄

I honestly think it would be SO HARD to tell if Suga had a crush on you

You can’t go off of his regular acts of sweetness, since he’s that way towards everyone

But, there will be a change in his behavior. You just have to be observant

First, he’s still gonna make sure you’re taking care of yourself on a regular basis. However, instead of the situation looking like a parent scolding a child for not taking their vitamins or whatever, he gets on your level and lets you know he genuinely cares about you and wants to see you healthy. Lots of soft looks and touches 🤧

And y’know how Suga gets a bit flustered when people praise him? Amp that up about fivefold when it’s you that’s praising him. He’ll say “Oh- really?!” with that cute little voice crack and get incredibly red over your compliment. But, his friendly crooked smile is what usually makes those moments fly under your radar

Lastly, he’ll want to involve you in a lot of his mischief-making with the underclassmen (You’d have to be close to the team to really get in good with Suga). If he feels comfortable enough around you to not act so responsible, he’ll show you the “tequila” part of his “tequila aunt” reputation real quick

I feel like if he wanted to confess to you, he’d want you to feel as comfortable as possible before dropping the bombshell of feelings

He’ll ask if you want to hang out at his place on a Friday or something when you both have no homework

And it’s agreed that you’ll bring the snacks, and he’ll set up the place with every blanket and pillow in existence

Surprise! It’s a movie night! (A Pixar movie night to be exact)

It’s in the middle of watching Wall-E, when the lights are dimmed low and you both are sharing a blanket and a bag of chips, when he tells you

After his small speech, he goes: “...So, what do ya say, Eva? Let me be your Wall-E...?”

Ofc you said yes (With an asterisks because of how adorably corny he was about it)

\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

🐻Asahi Azumane🐻

Two seconds in, and I can already tell this wreck is gonna need some help expressing his feelings for you 💀

The moment he gets that warm and fuzzy sensation in the pit of his stomach when you give him your perfectly imperfect smile, he probably assumes that you’d never date someone like him. Someone who hardly lives up to the big tough guy image people seem to pin on him 

Either that, or you’re just plain scared of him and too afraid to say something about it

Suga and Daichi try their darnedest to explain that Asahi’s worries are not the case at all. And if Asahi just pulled his head out of the sand for once and told you the truth, that you’d at least understand and react respectfully

But, doing so can be tricky when anxiety is kicking your butt over the worst case scenario

Really and truly, you would’ve confessed to Asahi, had he not given you the impression that he never wanted to be around you. He’d always get so visibly nervous around you and make a sad excuse to leave the room

“So, what to do about this stalemate of love?” Thought Suga and Daichi in this most perplexing dilemma. You and Asahi both clearly liked each other, but what would give you two that nudge you needed?

Well, it took a lot of consideration, but Suga and Daichi decided that they needed to bring in someone else: Yuu Nishinoya, to be exact. Appealing to Asahi’s fear of his crush being exposed without being able to properly explain his feelings would definitely work

And it did! Asahi was so terrified of Noya bluntly outing him, that he promised to confess to you by 2:00 tomorrow. No later

Well, come tomorrow, it seemed Asahi was stalling for time, letting his fears get the better of him. But, he managed to catch you in the hallway at exactly 1:59

Asahi showed himself friendly, trying to drum up small talk before dropping the big thing. And you blushed and went along with it, unaware of what was about to happen. Before the big moment, Asahi stumbled over his words:

“I uh...well, you see- I just, y’know, wanted to...to tell you that I- well...I may or may not-”

“Asahi’s got a big fat crush on you and he’s been too big of a chicken to say it for the whole year!”

Asahi tried to hide his face in his hands while your body was internally burning up. Gee, thanks Noya

In your embarrassment, you stepped forward and took Asahi’s hand, asking if Noya was right. Asahi gave a quiet “Yeah...you’re amazing. How could I not like you?”

Romance bloomed that day between you two, and Suga and Daichi were just around the corner snickering about it

\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

[🌌Take this for your travels, bud. Don’t worry about paying me or anything, everything’s on the house! Though 🍁likes🍁 and ☘️reblogs☘️ are appreciated!🌄] — Reagan

[kyidyl]

Kyidyl Does Archaeology - Part 1

About me, and about the site.

I’m gonna have to do this in parts because I tend to be, uh...wordy.  Actually...ok, so I believe very strongly that knowledge does no one any good behind a paywall, but I also have a hard time parsing it down for social media because, well, people are complex but also ADHD.  So if you guys have any feedback for me that’d be awesome.  I’ll probably do these as a series so they don’t get overwhelming to read.  Tag for ‘em will be kyidylCL

A caveat to all of these posts: archaeologists walk a fine line between “I’d love to tell you about this and here look at this cool thing” and “I don’t want to share a colleague’s forthcoming paper on social media before they publish it and also fuck looters”. We classify anyone who *isn’t* an archaeologist as a looter.  Because even when you find artefacts just lying around, as soon as you pick them up they’re removed from context and become near-useless for scientific research and data.  When we remove them we capture all that information via a prescribed methodology.  When other people remove them they tend not to.  And you can tell how legit someone is by how much they care about the context.  Context is key, that’s why we’re so meticulous.  Anyway so I can’t tell you where the site is specifically because I’m not allowed.  I also, though, have been heavily involved in this project so I’m mostly going to be telling you about my own research so it’s ok to publish it on social media.  Anyway, that’s why if you show an archaeologist something you just like found they’ll be like “gee...thanks...well...I don’t want to squelch your curiosity, buuuuuut...” 

A little bit of background on my involvement with this site: I’m a newly minted archaeologist.  I’ve had my MS a little over a year, and I’ve been doing things in that time to keep up my skills and get the field hours I need to be a registered state archaeologist (it’s basically just like a professional license for archs.) bc I didn’t get enough in school and my dissertation is on genetics and cannibalism (and if you want to know about *that* I’ll tell you, but in another post.), so yeah.  Anyway.  I’ve been volunteering with the local archaeology society, and they’re great.  They found this site because two of the members grew up in the area and just knew of its existence.  So I volunteer with them and am one of like 3 people they know who have a degree so I get to be really involved - probably more than I would be otherwise just cause people with my credentials are in short supply for them.  I’m basically the only member with a degree, and the rest are consultants they bring in for stuff like this (including the RSA who works the site - the site director.).  

Before a site can be dug there’s a lot of prep work involved.  It varies based on what kind of money you’ve got and access.  We have lots of access - it’s on private land owned by someone who is childhood friends with a member of the arch society - but almost zero money.  Before I showed up, in summer 2018, they did a series of what are called shovel tests.  Basically there’s a grid laid over the site and where the grid lines intersect they dug a round pit down to what archaeologists call “the sterile layer”, IE, where there’s no evidence of human activity.  Basically, you dig small holes to see if it’s worth digging big holes and in this case it was worth it.  

When I started working with them, I took all of the material from the test pits and sorted and catalogued it.  We’ll come back to this in the next post, so remember this.  Pause.  

I forgot to tell you where the site was.  Like not specifically, I can’t do that, but I CAN tell you that it’s in the Shenandoah valley.  Wanna see pics? Yeah, you wanna see pics (I took all of the images I’m gonna be posting so I give myself permission to post them. :P): 

The site is too big to get in one pic, but this is the far end looking towards the mountain.  The field continues off to the left of the shot.  

Here’s a nicer pic of the mountain: 

And another one cause it’s super pretty: 

And here’s my view when we’re eating lunch:

And here’s an artsy shot of the cows I pass on my way in, because who doesn’t love cows? ;) 

The site has been occupied for a long time (how long? Well, that’ll happen in the pottery post soooorry. ;), and I think you guys can see why.  It’s also on a slight ridge overlooking a river so it’s near fresh water, easily defensible, and is fertile.  Speaking of which... 

It’s also what archaeologists call “highly disturbed”. See, after the colonizers drove the natives out of the Blue Ridge mountains, they started farming the fertile land in the valley.  This site was farmed for several decades, and not only that but during the civil war they dug a big ‘ole defensive trench through the middle of it.  So whilst farming disturbs the finds, it tends to a, only be a max of 15 inches deep and b, keep the finds in the same relative area they’re pulled out of.  And we can tell where that layer ends (I’ll show you that in the post about our pits bc I don’t think Tumblr will let me add more pics.), so even though it destroys features and damages things it’s a lot less destructive than, say....building a giant war trench and shooting at each other.  

The site is an entire settlement.  It’s...several acres in size.  There are burial cairns in the woods around it, and some rumors that human remains have been found there in the past - although we have not, as of yet, found any (much to my personal dismay because, well...bioarchaeologist.). 

So who lived here? Well, when the colonizers drove out the natives they didn’t exactly keep good records about who lived where, but generally speaking the site is on both Massawomeck and Manahoac land. We don’t know which group lived there, and there were other groups coming and going in the general area so it could have also been Piscataway or Potomac or even one of the later nations that formed the Iroquois.  Based on the age though I think the best candidates are the Massawomeck or Manahoac.  

Next up, the prep work I did for the site and dig! 

(aaaahhhhhh hopefully I didn’t forget anything. x.x)

[sl-walker]

All right, since I’m in the middle of a flare and have to work manual labor for the next four days despite it, I figured I would make myself -- and hopefully other people -- laugh by talking about one of my favorite OG Captain Marvel stories. Namely, from Whiz #50, with a cover date of January, 1944, meaning it was probably produced sometime in late 1943.

I want to share it because why not, this is some absurdly charming stuff.

I’ll get more into why it’s one of my favorites as we go, in the form of running commentary. So, full story (with said commentary) under the cut. If you wanna just read the story without my commentary, stick to the pictures. XD

First, let me say that the cover and splash page definitely live up to the story, though the cover’s a bit more sensationalized. But the premise is pretty damn simple: Our intrepid hero and his newsboy alter ego are on vacation. Cap decides to go swimming. It goes hilariously wrong and thus ensues a bit of a madcap adventure, no puns intended.

Second, the fact that Cap and Billy are depicted as essentially different entities makes what Billy does next the ultimate trolling:

Gee, airing out the stolen laundry on the radio? Really? I’ll leave it up to you, gentle reader, whether Billy actually was trolling his own alter-ego for ratings or whether he was just innocently sharing the story while his other-self winced quietly in whatever ether-space he exists in when not front-and-center.

Either way, I love it.

Continuing on...

I get a kick out of the fact that Billy’s monologue is that he’s no dare-devil. One, because that’s so obviously not true in any way -- (that kid is awesomely, sometimes recklessly brave on the regular even without Cap) -- but two, because the bridge is actually named Dare-Devil Bridge. We aren’t given any reason why this dangerous potential death-trap is there, hanging without so much as a gate or a warning sign or anything, because we don’t need one. It’s there specifically for what happens next.

Which, of course, is Billy calling in Captain Marvel, who does some light complaining about the situation Billy left him in. There’s no bite to it, which I find adorable -- Cap actually does get frustrated once or twice in other issues with Billy calling on him for mundane stuff, though he’s never mean about it -- but there is a bit of the sense of being put-upon there that’s just-- I dunno, cute. It’s something I miss a lot in the various post-crisis takes on the character: That duality, that difference in personality, and the way each of them responds to different situations. Often, they’re on the same page, but notably, sometimes, they aren’t.

Someday, I promise, I need to sit down and write how I think that works between those two without being a truly frightening mental illness manifested, what with them being the same person but not the same person. Because I have so many ideas, and I’ve only had since the early-2000s to percolate them. LOL! But until then, just enjoy this.

Here is another reason why I love the Golden Age Captain Marvel books and why I love this specific story: This is an absolutely normal, mundane thing to do. It’s the human thing to do. These aren’t the actions of some super-serious superdude. These are the actions of a pretty shockingly normal guy doing something mundane. And a whole story is built around that normalcy.

It’s cute. It’s funny. It’s the reader already knowing that he’s getting himself into a situation that he absolutely could have avoided, but also completely understanding how it happened anyway. It’s pretty brilliant writing: I say this as a pretty damned good writer myself.

So much of the reason why, I think, Cap was so endearing as a hero is that humanity. He’s got pretty much god-tier power in the Golden Age, once his powerset is established. He’s utterly invulnerable to all physical harm while powered up. But-- he’s human. He knows he’s human. He acts like it, and decides, “You know what? I’m going skinny-dipping.”

He and Billy are both characters it’s so easy to empathize with.

Also, a reminder that the art under Chief Artist C.C. Beck is really, really good. (He had a whole stable of artists to help produce this stuff!) Ignoring registration issues on the printing press, the actual line art is amazingly good; proportion and perspective and consistency.

But anyway--Cap does get to enjoy his swim. But, then, oh no.

I love the idea of a world where the prime hero -- and he definitely is in that world -- can take off his suit and go swimming, and where someone else is bold enough to steal the damn suit off of him. The first time I read this, I started laughing here. Not at him, but at the situation he’s found himself in. At the idea that some random passer-by saw Captain Marvel’s costume and went yoink!

Another thing I love about this particular story is how much Cap and Billy have to work together, just by necessity. Like-- it’s just really good. But anyway, thank everything Billy Batson is on the ball, coming to the rescue.

Sheer bad luck via the weather keeps this story rolling along in hilarious misdirections. Realistically, that uniform probably wouldn’t be all buttoned together (we see Cap take off pieces of it aside the pants in other issues, including socks!), but who cares? The point of the story is that giant bear rug on the floor’s gonna get put to use.

Man, when have you ever seen Superman creeping naked through some stranger’s house wearing nothing but a random polar bear because he went skinny dipping? No wonder these comics sold so well. This next panel is when I start wheezing, though, and pretty much keep wheezing.

“A lady, too! I’ve got to get away from here!”

I’m dying at this point. That’s such a characteristic response, and yet, I think that’s why it’s funny.

Anyway, because this is an excellent story (I mean this without an ounce of irony, too), our dynamic duo stumbles across a plot in play to rob the hotel they’re staying at.

Here’s a big part of why this is such a good tale: Everything fits. Even when it isn’t explained, like Dare-Devil Bridge, it still fits. Why is the tree down? Because there was just a thunder storm, the same one that blew Cap’s suit into the room with the gangsters.

I don’t know if this is Otto Binder’s story, but I wouldn’t be surprised in the least. It’s a complete story told in relatively few pages that accomplishes everything it’s meant to.

Anyway, using foliage as cover, Cap gets to be heroic----then Billy gets to get back to the business of trying to stop the robbery of the hotel and get his heroic alter-ego dressed again.  Which leads to a rather adorable and funny scene of Billy not only trying to describe what Captain Marvel wears, but what size it would need to be tailored in.

(Cap is supposedly a 44 for a suit coat, we find in some earlier appearance, which would refer to his chest size.  So, an XL for shirts and suit-coats.  He’s a big guy, but he’s actually not a hulking huge guy.  But more on that later.)

I love the fact Billy tries to like-- use himself as a model.  Maybe in another ten years, kiddo.  Billy’s actually pretty buff for like a 12-14 year old, he’s not a scrawny kid at this point, but yeah, no.  LOL!

Another thing I also really, really love about this style, though, is that they draw Captain Marvel as being strong, as having a powerful build-- but not as a dehydrated body-builder with deep cuts. He’s got human proportions, regardless of his strength; he’s got a human build, not a superhuman one.

C.C. Beck had a lot of things to say about superheroes who were just muscles on top of muscles, all clearly defined, and he didn’t like it.  As someone who first got into comics in the early 90s with Jim Lee’s X-Men--

I do get Beck’s point.  I not only get it, but I really highly approve of it.  He maintained to the end that he drew (and oversaw) the Marvel family to look like high school and college athletes, and I can see that.  I think the one person who’s gotten it right in the modern era is Evan “Doc” Shaner, who did Convergence: Shazam!  He not only nailed that strong-but-not-hulking build for Cap, but also how young he looked.  College-age, in fact.

But anyway, enough digression into art and why I like this better than most modern takes on the character.  Also, that’s just a cute set of panels.

I also like that there wasn’t an easy fix there.  Cap’s still in his not-birthday suit, and Billy’s still stuck running around trying to solve the issues at hand.  Next comes some other really good panels:

-snorts-  He’s locked in.  Yeah, that’ll hold him.

Anyway, what I really liked here was again that tandem working; Billy can’t punch through a wall, but Cap can.  Cap can’t crawl out while he’s au natural -- well, he could, but he’d probably rather die first -- but Billy’s got no such issue.  It’s just fun when you get to see them doing something like that.  You have to really think for a minute about the trust each of them must have in their alter-ego.

ANYWAY, we get the rare treat then--

--of Captain Marvel not only yoinking a dude into a dark room, but then stealing his clothes.  Except, not his underwear.  Because that’s nasty.  LOL!

I love that in this series, you do actually get to see him wear other stuff.  Go incognito.  Get his red suit messed up enough to take it to a dry cleaner’s, wherein he ends up dressed like a musketeer after.  Jerry Ordway’s series is, I think, the only other time we see Cap not wearing his famous suit, but it happened enough in the Golden Age that it wasn’t a shock.

Like, I hate to be the one to say this, but I do think DC drops the ball often on just how much you can do with Captain Marvel (or Shazam, depending on timeline, but that’s the wizard’s name to me so mostly I’ll stick with the original name) if you unbend enough to.  It’s not just the costume change, or the duality of him and Billy being the same but not, but also his inherent, essential humanity.

But I am digressing again, sorry. XD  I just feel strongly enough about these versions of these characters to spend hours writing this.

Anyway, only a single panel later:

And that’s that!  Billy Batson has just outed his own alter-ego’s most embarrassing moment to whomever’s listening to WHIZ radio -- thank everything podcasts and the internet weren’t available then, ha! -- and we get to see a recounting of a very fun story.

Like I said earlier, I love this one for its essential humanity.  The hero got himself into this mess, he and Billy got him out of this mess, and stopping the criminals was actually just kind of a lucky stroke thrown in there.  But even though Cap got himself into this, the story never treats him like he’s stupid.  It never treats him like he’s some kind of idiot.  You’re laughing, but-- not in a mean way.

I love how human it is.  How complete it is.  How genuinely funny it is.  It’s a thousand times more funny when you genuinely love and respect Captain Marvel and Billy Batson, too.

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this dissertation on a skinny-dipping hero.  LOL!  I enjoyed sharing it with you.

[i-need-entertainment]

Chronostasis + “If the world was ending”

This is the 19th Oneshot for the Valentines Day Event, thank you so much to @purplefrost21 for requesting Chrono! I went ahead and picked a song, I hope this is okay! If you would like something different, feel free to message me!!

Starting now, I will also be splitting the writings into paragraphs, thank you to the anon who requested this, I appreciate it!

**Also, I wrote the hassaikai how I usually write it, slightly edited cause, ~plot reasons~ Overhaul will be not OOC, but a decent person and yeah**

Warnings- Pregnancy, allusions to iNtiMaCy but obviously no actual smut cause I don’t write it, eensy teensy amount of suggestiveness i gUess??? Not really?? idk but i’ll put it here anyway

Character: Chronostasis x reader

It’s been one year since you and Chrono had decided to call it quits. It’s also been one year since you decided to leave the hassaikai. You had known Chrono since you were 18, you had been down on your luck and had no where to go. That is until Pops found you and brought you in. You were quick to make friends with Chrono, matching his teasing and laid back personality nicely with your own. Four years later and you and Chrono’s friendship had developed into a different type of relationship. 

You often spent your nights together, sneaking around and keeping your relationship under wraps. You loved Chrono, in every sense of the word. You had given him your everything and he had given you his. You both were deeply and madly in love with each other, and you both could honestly see yourselves with each other for the rest of your lives. 

At least, that was the plan...”I think we need to break up.” You remember how the sound of your heart cracking echoed in your ears, your chest felt like 2 tons had been dropped onto your lungs, and time slowed to a pitiful stop. “...what?” He sighed as he took your hands into his, head hung low as he neglected to look you in the eye. “...The hassaikai isn’t what it used to be, it’s not safe for us to have a relationship anymore...I’m sorry Y/n, but I don’t think we should see each other anymore, any pursuit of a relationship would only be a distraction, it’s best if we...don’t see each other any more.” You hastily brought your sleeve to your eye to wipe the tears that had started to fall, trying to keep a smile on your face as you nodded.

 “...okay..” Chrono’s eyes widened, “Are you su-” “Yes.” You patted his knee as you stood, walking to the door of his room, giving him one last ‘smile’, “Good bye Hari.” You left his room, walking to your own and closing your door with a sigh. You sat down on your bed, hands grasping your knees as your sobs broke through, wet tears sliding down your face and onto the jeans you wore. You sat there, painful realization after realization came crashing down on you. ‘we’re done’..’he broke up with me’...’I-I have to do this alone’....’I can’t stay here.’ 

You hiccuped as your eyes widened, you stood and moved to kneel beside your bed, dragging your old suitcase out from under your bed. You packed as much as you could into it- not like you had much, before you rolled it to sit beside your door. You walked out and headed towards Overhaul’s office. You knocked on the door and entered when you heard a ‘come in’. You walked in and stood in front of his desk. “L/n..what can I do for you?” He leaned his chin on his fist as his elbow sat his his desk, his gold eyes looking as bored as they usually do. 

“I’m sorry for the short notice, but i’m going to have to leave the compound for awhile..” His eyebrows raised as he sat up straight. “..Are you wanting to leave the Hassaikai?” You shook your head, “No, but, I’m going to need some time away...I’m pregnant.” He slowly nodded, “Maternity leave?” You nodded as you kept your gaze towards the floor, “Very well, I’ll give you an assignment further away, one that’ll keep you out of the field.” You nodded, saying a quiet ‘thank you’ as he wrote down the information/permissions you’d need.

 You turned to leave, but before you could he spoke. “...does he know..?” You shook your head, “...no...but..I...I think it’s better if he doesn’t..not yet anyway...” He hummed as he sighed, “Well, if that’s what you think is best, you’re dismissed.” You nodded as you opened the door and left, walking to your room to get your suitcase before you left.

It’s been a year since you last saw Chrono. You had tried to let him go, to forget and leave him in the past. But that was a lot harder than you had originally anticipated. Because you still loved him. You would have thought that after a year of not having seen him after he broke up with you, you’d be able to leave him in the past. But you couldn’t. Cries took you out of your critical thinking. You shook yourself out of it before walking over to your little boy, Hayato. He was only 3 months, so he was still little...and quite the crier..But no matter how many sleepless nights or mini breakdowns you might have trying to get him to sleep, your entire heart belonged to your son, your little Hayato. 

You came in and softly spoke to your crying baby, softly picking him up and holding him by his bottom, softly cradling his head where it laid on your shoulder. You slowly swayed side to side as you held him, softly humming as you did this. His cries subsided, soft little *cute* hiccups escaping his small body as you rubbed his back. Sometimes nothing was wrong, he just needed to be held, comforted...you knew the feeling. You cuddled him for a little longer before you felt him calm down, and seeing as it was 10 past midnight, you set him down in his crib, making sure his stuffed elephant was close by. 

Giving his forehead one last kiss you walked out of his room, cracking the door and going to the kitchen to finish making the tea you were going to drink. Blowing on the hot cup you sat down on the couch, turning so you could look out the tall windows that were almost floor to ceiling. You only had a few lights on so the view of the city at night was clear. You sighed as you brought the tea cup to your mouth, taking a slow sip while your feet came up onto the couch with you. You sat there in the silence, the buzzing of various electronics in the background and the occasional sound of your sips the only noise filling the room. You smiled as you took a peak at the baby monitor you kept on the small end table, your little baby snuggling the small animal your boss, a good friend of Pops, gifted your son when he was born.

 All things considered, you were doing quite well for yourself. You had a high paying job as an assistant for a, despite being a hassaikai leader, kind boss who gave you a few months off to care for your child. You were able to live off compound in a good school district in a nice safe area. You were set on giving your baby the best life you could, the life you never got to have. *Knock knock* You slowly set the cup down on the table, moving the baby monitor into a drawer (you always made sure to hide it when ever business partners or anyone work related came, your sons safety was your utmost priority). You walked to the door and took a look through the peep hole, when you did your heart sped up, heart sinking to your gut. Because the man on the other side of the door was someone you didn’t expect to see for a long, long time.

**2 hours ago in the Shie Hassaikai base**

Chrono groaned as he sat down in the couch in Overhaul’s office, mask sitting beside him on the couch as he leaned his head back to rest against the back of the couch. “You look dead.” Chrono scoffed as his hand came to rub at his eyes. “Gee thanks, I really needed to hear that. I almost forgot my life sucked- thanks for the reminder.” Overhaul shrugged, leaning back in his chair and closing his eyes. “...When was the last time you saw her?” 

Chrono sighed, “....when she left the hassaikai...I haven’t heard from her since..I screwed up bad.” Overhaul now sighed as he reopened his eyes, turning his gaze to Chrono. “I’d say...” Chrono shot a glare towards his friend, Overhaul simply shrugging. “....she asked me not to tell you, but seeing as you’re miserable and I know you, i’m going to tell you anyways...” Chrono raised an eyebrow as Overhaul stood from his desk, leaning down to write something on a small piece of paper. He walked over to the couch, tossing the paper onto the couch beside his friend. 

Chrono picked it up, eyes narrowing as it listed an apartment complex and a suite number. “..The heck is this?” Overhaul walked back to his desk and sat down. “Her address....I’d prepare myself if I were you, she’s not the only one you left behind.” Chrono narrowed his eyes at the man, “What do you-” “Tell me Kurono, why did you think she suddenly left, to do office work nonetheless, right after you broke up with her?” Chrono looked down, “I’m not sure....I figured she was mad, upset..figured she just didn’t want to see me anymore.” Overhaul hummed, “Well, that’s partly true, but no. She left because she wasn’t the only one she had to look after anymore.”

 Chrono looked towards Overhaul, “...what are you saying?” Overhaul frowned (yes he’s still wearing a mask cHill) “..I’m saying there’s someone else in the picture now, your picture.” Like a flip being switched his eyes shot open. “...I got her pregnant..” “Bingo.” “...and I broke up with her..” “Yup.” “..I have a son i’ve never met..” “Or daughter.” Chrono glared at Overhaul, who was finding the situation unnervingly amusing. “We can keep bantering back and forth or you can go, I don’t care either way, but I do have work to do.” 

Shakily sighing Chrono stood, walking to the door. Turning around he looked to his old friend, “...thank you.” Overhaul waved him off with a sigh, “Thank me when you finally get your life back together.” Grinning Chrono walked out of the office, paper in hand and heart filled with determination. He was going to make this right.

**Back to present time**

Undoing the chain and bolt you unlocked the door. “...Hari..?” Everything he had prepared to say flew out the window when he saw you. You looked different..not in a bad way, but he could tell you had matured. You had your hair pulled back and held loosely by a clip, you were wearing a loose t-shirt and some leggings. “..Y/n..” You both stared at each other, neither one believing that the other was actually there. Snapping yourself out of your daze you spoke, “Uhm, what are you doing here? Not that it’s not great to see you! I just- I didn’t expect you to be...here..” 

He nodded, hands going into his pockets to hide how shaky they had become. “..I....I needed to talk to you...I need make things right.” You looked at him with a nervous expression, arms coming to cross in front of your chest, not in anger or frustration but to try to ground yourself. “I love you Y/n, and I don’t know what was going through my head when I broke up with you, but please believe me when I tell you it was the stupidest thing i’ve ever done. I never stopped loving you either, when I ended things it was because I thought it was the best thing to do at the time, I thought you deserved better...I didn’t think I could give you better...I’m so sorry. I was selfish and I hurt you and i’m so sorry.”

 You started to tear up, one of your hands coming up to wipe the tears that escaped. Shaking your head you gave him a small smile. “I never hated you...I don’t think I can. And I definitely never stopped loving you...This past year has been harder than you know, well, you might, you don’t look too good.” Chrono just chuckled as he shook his head, you lightly laughing. “..Just promise you won’t do that again..? I don’t want to be alone, and I don’t want to do this alone anymore either.” He looked confused for a second. “Wait here...there’s someone who wants to meet you.” 

His heart sped up as you walked back to your sons room, him walking into the small entryway and shutting/locking the door behind him. He wring his hands together, heart rate speeding up and his mind racing. He took a shaky breath in as you walked out of the room, but it caught in his throat when his dark eyes met identical ones. His gulped as he looked up to see you, silently asking for permission. Smiling you walked over to him, gently holding you- well, the two of you’s son out to him. He very carefully brought his son into his arms, holding him with his left as his right softly traced over his small features.

 He almost broke when his son latched onto his finger, he smiled towards his son, shoulders shaking as he held back tears. “His name is Hayato.” He looked to you and smiled, before looking back down to his little baby. “Hi Hayato...it’s nice to meet you...sorry i’m a little late...daddy was busy being an idiot.” He playfully glared when you said ‘Yeah he was’ before softening his look when he returned his gaze to Hayato. “But i’m here now...and I’m never going away again..I promise you that.” He looked up to you, meeting your glassy e/c eyes with his own gray ones. “Both of you.”

 After a good hour of holding his son you both put him to bed. Slowly cracking his door closed once again, you both moved to sit in the family room. But before he could sit you softly grabbed his arm. He turned around, stumbling when you threw yourself towards him, wrapping your arms tightly around his waist. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you as close to him as he possibly could, head nuzzling into your shoulder. “...I was really scared you’d never come back...when you left, I knew I screwed up big time, but I thought you needed your space...but shoot, if I had known you were pregnant-” You shook your head, pulling away to look him in the eyes, hands coming to rest on his chest while his remained on your waist.

 “No, that parts my fault, and don’t even refute it...I didn’t tell you because I thought it would hold you back...that I would hold you back..and I didn’t want to keep you in a relationship you wouldn’t be happy in...but he’s your son, I should have told you.” He leaned down to rest his forehead back on your shoulder. He sighed as he chuckled, “We both made some pretty dumb choices, let’s leave it at that.” You laughed, cradling his head and running your fingers, carefully, through his hair.

 You were just enjoying the moment when  he started to softly kiss your shoulder, before he stood to his normal height and kissed your lips. His hands moved down to your hips, yours around his neck when you pulled away. “Uh uh, I know where this is going- I just had a kid 3 months ago, the last thing I need is another one!” Shrugging he leaned down to kiss your cheek, you almost gave in to the moment, caught up in the sheer romance of the gesture before he leaned closer to your ear, “The more the merrier~” Him laughing when you squealed as he picked you up and slung you over his shoulder.

You started to slap his back in protest before he ‘gently’ set you down on your bed, him climbing to the side of you to pull you in close, holding you like at any moment he’d wake up, this having all been a cruel dream. But when you wrapped your arms around him and burrowed into his chest he knew, he wasn’t too late. And as he drifted off to sleep that night, with you finally back in his arms, he couldn’t help but think that maybe it was luck, or even fate, but whatever it was that brought you back together, Chrono knew he would always find his way back to you.

“If the world was ending You'd come over, right?”

[aquietwritingcorner]

Embers of Revelation

Author: RealityBreakGirl/aquietlearningcorner Word Count: 12296 Rating: T Prompt: FMA Big Bang 2021 Warnings: Child abuse/neglect Characters: Riza Hawkeye, Roy Mustang, Jean Havoc, Heymans Breda, Vato Falman, Kain Fuery, Black Hayate Pairing: Royai Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Family Chapter: 2 of 7 Summary: Tasked by Fuhrer Grumman to investigate a suspected alchemic incident, General Mustang’s team finds themselves stranded in Hawkeye’s hometown. Needing a place to stay, they find themselves taking shelter in her childhood home. However, her past can’t stay buried there, and as revelations come to light, they also bring embers of danger with them. Sequel to Embers in a Wounded Heart AO3 || ff.net

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Chapter 2

The night didn’t pass too peacefully for Havoc or Breda. Havoc’s legs were giving him quite a bit of trouble and he was restless most of the night. He tried to sleep or hold still, but after a while he gave up, and went downstairs where he could move as much as he needed too. Eventually he fell asleep on the couch. He thought, at one point, that he heard someone else up, but shortly after Hayate joined him, which explained a lot. Eventually the two fell asleep together.

The morning dawned early, but not too bright. He was woken up by the sounds of someone in the kitchen, and groggily drug himself up. He stumbled into the kitchen, wincing as his legs tried to work themselves out. They functioned just fine, but there was still an ache to them. Not to his surprise, both Hawkeye and Fuery were up and in the kitchen, coffee already going. They looked up at his entrance.

“Oh—did we wake you?” Hawkeye asked, looking at him.

Havoc yawned. “Yeah, but don’t worry about it.”

Fuery had gotten up and was busy fetching a cup for Havoc. “Didn’t sleep well, sir?” he asked.

“Yeah… this weather is messing with my legs,” he said. “Makes them ache more and more the longer it goes on.”

Hawkeye frowned. “Do you have anything you take or do for them?”

“Yeah,” Havoc said, “but I try not to take it too much. I don’t like being too compromised.”

“It’s not like we’re doing anything dangerous here,” Fuery said with a smile as he handed Havoc a cup of coffee fixed just the way he liked it. How did Fuery remember little details like that anyway? And why would he bother?

Still, it didn’t stop Havoc from accepting it.

“Yeah, but still. Don’t worry, if it gets to be too much, I’ll take one of those pills.”

Hawkeye was frowning. “Have you ever tried any herbal or folk remedies?” she asked him.

Havoc shook his head. “Nah, I haven’t. to be honest, even if my ma used them, I wouldn’t know where to start.”

Hawkeye nodded. “Let me see what I can find and put together. I might be able to give you something that’ll help.”

“You know herbs?” Fuery asked, sounding a little surprised.

Hawkeye nodded. “I learned when I was younger from books, and an older woman in town. They were useful things to know, especially when a doctor wasn’t always an option.” She stood up, heading over to the refrigerator.  “I’ll see what I can look into. For now, though, we had better start on breakfast.”

With a nod, Havoc and Fuery both got up, and the three of them started working on the food.

It wasn’t too much later that the others started filing down the stairs, Falman first, then Breda, and finally, Mustang. Like all good military men, they started their approach with a trip to the coffee pot. Once the coffee was fixed, each of them sat at the table, where they slowly woke up and, eventually, started to help with breakfast. It didn’t take long until they were all sitting around the table with a full breakfast laid out in front of them and another pot of coffee ready.

“So,” Breda said as they ate, “What’s the plan for the day?”

Mustang looked out the window, where the rain could still be seen pouring. “Well, there’s not much we can do here about our mission,” he said. “Fuery, did you get the radio working?”

“Not to my satisfaction,” he said. “I mean, it works, yes, but not as good as it could.”

“Can you make it work as well as you want it to?” Mustang asked.

“Maybe, with the right tools and supplies,” he responded.

Mustang and Hawkeye looked at each other, silent communication passing between them again.

“We’ll see what we can find you,” Hawkeye said. “I’m sure there’s something laying around. If there’s nothing in the house, there might be something in the barn.”

“If you can get that repaired, then we’ll use that as our primary means of updates on the weather and the train station.” Mustang said.

“What about calling the station?” Breda asked.

Hawkeye shook her head. “There was never a phone installed here. Father saw no need, and we didn’t have the money for something like that. I didn’t see the need after he died, as I didn’t plan to stay here for long.”

Breda nodded, and Havoc supposed that made sense.

“Havoc, will you take care of the horses?” Mustang asked.

“Sure thing, Boss. Although if anyone else has experience, it might not be a bad thing to have someone else that knows what they’re doing as well.”

“I can help,” Falman said. “I did a few turns taking care of the horses at Briggs.”

“You any good?” Havoc asked.

“The horse master wanted to see about getting me transferred down there,” Falman said.

Havoc raised an eyebrow. “Alright, good enough for me.”

“Okay, so that’s settled. As for the rest of us…” Mustang shook his head. “Well just do as we need to. There’s plenty to read, and always work to do. We’ll figure it out. However,” he said, “when what needs to be taken care of this morning is taken care of, we can dive into the intel that we were given, see what we can learn.”

“We can go head and pool what knowledge we have and get something of a plan in place for when we do get there,” Hawkeye said. “It can’t hurt anyway.”

Breda grunted. “That’s true enough. And it’ll certainly be something more productive then just sitting around reading random books. No offence, Falman.”

“None take, sir.”

“What chores and the like need to be done?” Mustang asked.

Hawkeye considered for a moment. “Well, our uniforms need washing, and the boots demucking. That will take a while. Sir,” she turned to Mustang. “I need you to check for some things for me in the basement.”

He looked at her with a bit of concern in his eyes, obviously willing, but, again, the basement brought up something bad, just like the last time they had been here. Hawkeye obviously wasn’t willing to go down in it still. Havoc couldn’t help but wonder, once again, just what it might be.

“Of course, Captain,” he said. “Just let me know what it is you need.”

“Just to check for some dried herbs and ingredients for me. I’m going to work on something for Havoc’s legs, see if it helps.”

Understanding seemed to bloom in Mustang’s eyes, and he settled down. “Ah, I see.”

“You’re going to what now?” Breda asked.

Hawkeye smiled at him, “Just apply some good country remedies. Hopefully one of them will help. If it helps his legs, it might help your arm as well.”

They had all noticed, but had chosen not to comment on, the way that Breda seemed to be favoring one arm. It was the one with the elbow he had broken, and Havoc knew that it was giving him trouble as well.

Breda still looked a bit surprised. “If it works, I’ll give it a try,” he said. “You I trust. Him,” he pointed to Havoc with his fork, “not so much.”

“Gee, thanks,” Havoc deadpanned. “See who makes sure there’s enough coffee for you next time.”

“Alright, so, I’m going to look for herbs for the captain. And the rest of you?” Mustang said, interrupting the play argument before it could get started.

“I’ll go check on the horses,” Havoc said, “And Falman can come with me.” Falman nodded his agreement.

“I’ll be working on that radio,” Fuery said. “Although it would be good if someone could show me where theses spare parts might be.”

“I can show you here in the house,” Hawkeye said, and Fuery nodded.

“So that just leaves the dishes and the uniforms,” Havoc said, and shot a grin Breda’s way.

Breda pulled a face. “Oh no. I’m not doing all of that alone!”

Luckily for him, Hawkeye came to his rescue. “I’ll help you,” she said. “It’s my house, and besides, I’m sure that Fuery needs some time to decide what he needs.”

Fuery nodded. “Yes, sir, I do,” he said. “So, it’ll be a while yet.”

“I can help you in the meantime,” Hawkeye reassured him, and Breda seemed somewhat mollified.

Breakfast didn’t last much longer after that, and they all finished and then cleaned up their places. Breda and Hawkeye set about putting away any extra food and cleaning the dishes. Anyone, they all knew, could wash dishes, so after Riza gave him a rundown of where things went in the kitchen, she left him to it to start on the uniforms.

Havoc and Falman pulled on their muddy boots from the day before, and their coats, and headed out the backdoor towards the barn, not only with instructions to see to the horses, but to bring back anything useful from the barn or the shed. Havoc was still a little concerned about that shed and the chemicals in it, but he couldn’t deny that Hawkeye seemed to know what she was doing—not after she had somehow miraculously saved the pot that Havoc would have sworn up and down Mustang had ruined. He was highly suspicious that she wanted him to bring back in a number of those.

Well, if the house blew up, at least the rain would put out any fires.

Falman, it turned out, was very good with horses. Something about his demeanor seemed to sooth the animals, and they let him do almost anything. The two men both mucked out the stalls, laid fresh hay, and then fed them. After that, they poked around the barn to see if there was anything useful in it.

“Sir?” Falman said from one of the corners. “What about this cart?”

“Hm?” Havoc walked over to him. “Oh that. Hawkeye said last time that she used to take that to town with her when she knew that she’d need to pick up a lot of materials or supplies. She said that sometimes she tied her goat to it to pull, and sometimes she just pulled it herself.”

“She pulled it herself?” Falman said, sounding a bit incredulous. “All the way to town?”

“That’s what she said.” Havoc repeated.

Falman fell quiet, thinking for a moment. “Sir…” he said carefully. “About the captain. Some of the things she says about living here, or the ways that she acts—”

“I know exactly what you mean, but you need to drop it,” Havoc said sharply. “Even when we were here last time, I learned very little solid facts. I just had snippets and conjecture to go off of. If Hawkeye wants us to know, then she’ll tell us. Other than that, it’s best not to say anything.”

Falman nodded. “Understood, sir,” And, bless him, Havoc believed that he did. Falman was a good man. He understood when to back off and not to push.

They did manage to collect a few things that they thought would do Fuery some good and put them in the spare basket that Hawkeye had given them. After that they stopped by the shed, and Havoc got to watch the wonder and the fear of this shed creep into Falman’s eyes. After all, a lot of these chemicals could be dangerous if they broke down or were too old.

All Havoc could do was shrug and load some up into the basket. “Hawkeye seems to think they’re safe,” he said, and that seemed to be the end of that.

By the time that they got back inside, both Breda and Hawkeye had moved on from cleaning the kitchen. It was clean and ready to go. Remembering Mustang’s warning about a child Hawkeye hitting him with a mop when he tracked dirt in, they headed straight to the washroom to remove their boots and hang up their coats. Riza and Breda were in there, Breda working on cleaning up their boots, Riza working on the clothes.

“Hate to say, but we brought you some more work,” Havoc said as they walked in.

“Oh, good,” Breda said sarcastically. “Riza, not to question you, but our boots are just going to get muddy again. What’s the point of cleaning them?”

“It’ll get the worst of it off,” she said. “And it’ll keep them from getting so mucked up.” She looked at him. “You know the dangers of letting a boot get too wet.”

“Yeah, but that’s for marches, not taking the boots on and off,” he pointed out.

“Still. Better to keep them clean—and you know it, Lieutenant,” she said, although there was a bit of a tease in her voice.

“Yeah, yeah,” he said, pulling a slight face at the work.

“How were the horses?” Riza asked. “And did you find anything?”

“We found several things that Fuery might find useful,” Falman said “and we retrieved a few bottles of chemicals for you, Captain.”

Riza smiled at them. “Thank you.”

“The horses were fine,” Havoc said. “A little ancy because of the weather, but fine overall.” He shifted, his legs just constantly aching in this weather. “I can’t blame them much for that, to be honest.”

“Hopefully this rain will let up soon,” Hawkeye said. “And then we can all leave.”

“We were lucky that you had this house we could stay in, though,” Falman said.

“Yes, I suppose so,” she murmured.

“We’ll leave the chemicals on the kitchen table, yeah?” Havoc said, “And then take these parts to Fuery.”

“Alright,” Hawkeye said. “I’ll tend to them later.”

Havoc gave her a wave, and he and Falman exited the small room, leaving Hawkeye and Breda working. It didn’t take long to unload the chemicals on the table.

“What’s the captain going to do with these?” Falman asked as they put them on the table.

“I don’t know,” Havoc said, “but the last time we were here Mustang ruined a pot trying to cook something. I thought for sure that the pot was done for. But Hawkeye brought in some of the chemicals, did something to the pot for a few days, and then somehow, amazingly, she managed to clean off whatever it was that the general had done.”

Falman didn’t look terribly impressed, but Havoc pushed his point. “I’m not kidding, Falman. It was black and burned and there was smoke coming out of it. I don’t know what he managed to burn that bad. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a pot or anything burned quite that badly. Trust me, you don’t want to let him cook.”

“The general is an accomplished alchemist,” Falman said. “Surely he can do something like simple cooking.”

“You’d think he could,” Havoc said. “But trust me, he can’t.”

Falman seemed to take his words into consideration but didn’t comment more on them. Instead, they finished unloading the chemicals and took the pieces to Fuery, who had the big radio pulled out and the back of it off.

“How’s it looking?” Havoc asked.

“Not unfixable, but it’s not going to be easy, especially without some of the proper parts. But I think I can make do. General’s volunteered to make some of the parts I need, if he can.”

“Well, that’s handy,” Havoc said.

“Yeah, I’ve got him looking though one of the technical manuals I brought with me so that he’ll have an idea of what I’m talking about.”

“Oh, giving the General orders now,” Havoc teased.

Fuery looked up from his work and grinned. “Well, when he asks what he can do…”

Havoc laughed. “I get that. Alright, keep working—maybe we’ll get more than scratchy ballroom music at some point.”

“Here’s hoping, sir!”

There wasn’t too much more to do after that, except clean up a little more. Falman went off to read, and Havoc, needing something to do, decided that he might as well go ahead and start working on lunch for everyone. True, it hadn’t been terribly long since breakfast, but it did take a while to prep things for six people plus one dog. He moved some of Hawkeye’s chemicals from the counter back to the table—who had moved those? —and got to work preparing the vegetables for what he hoped was going to be a good meal.

The finishing of chores and the smell of cooking food eventually brought everyone out from their jobs. Hawkeye and Breda had finally finished the uniforms, which were now drying in the washroom, and Fuery took a break from the radio, with Hawkeye promising to show him around the house a bit more to see if there was anything else he could use. Mustang complained about the technical manuals, and Hawkeye teased him about not complaining about paperwork any longer. They all enjoyed lunch together, and, after it, Breda took care of cleaning up the washroom while Mustang went to look around the basement. Hawkeye showed Fuery the attic and Falman went outside to make some observations. Havoc took care of the kitchen. By the time the afternoon rolled around, everyone was either finished with their chores or ready to take a break. They all moved into the living room where there was more space and the warmth from the fireplace. Fuery still had his radio to tinker with as well, which kept the younger man quite happy.

“Alright, before we start, status update. Fuery, the radio,” Mustang said.

“I’m working on her sir. She’s an older model and I don’t have access to parts, but I think with your help and some of the things I’ve found around here I should be able to get her working well by this afternoon. Of course, she’d work better with an antenna, but we don’t have one and it would be dangerous to put one up in this weather.”

Mustang frowned but seemed to put a pin in that idea. “Keep working, Fuery. I’m sure you’ll get it.” He turned his attention to Falman. “Weather report, Falman?”

“Yes, sir,” Falman said. “I went out and made some observations. Without the proper tools I couldn’t be sure of several things, but there is a still a wind coming out of the west and the clouds appear to be low-hanging cumulus and still saturated with rain. It’s still as unusual as it was back in Central, sir, and it doesn’t show any signs of letting up. However, they do appear to be mostly rain clouds and not necessarily storm clouds, which does make a difference.”

“Right,” Mustang said. “Havoc? The horses.”

“They’re doing fine, sir,” Havoc drawled. “A little ancy, but that’s to be expected in weather like this. We’ve got enough supplies to keep them for a couple of more days, but then we’d probably want to see about taking them and the wagon back. When we do, I suggest we take that small cart with us, and we can load it up with anything we need and pull it back.”

Mustang nodded. “Hawkeye? The house?”

“Seems mostly as we left it,” she said.

“Mostly?” he interrupted.

“Yes,” she said. “I do hire someone to come in, check on things, and make sure there’s basic upkeep, so anything that seems a bit out of place is probably due to him.”

“I wondered why this place was in so good of shape, considering no on lived here,” Havoc said.

“Yes, well, I had thought about just abandoning it to its fate, but… well, it’s always good to have a backup,” she said.

“It worked out well for us, at least,” Breda said.

“But the house and all seem fine to you,” Mustang pushed.

“Yes,” she said. “Everything seems to be in order.”

“Good.” Mustang nodded at Breda, a bit of a smirk touching his lips. “And the state of the laundry?”

Havoc heard Breda mumble something under his breath, but he couldn’t catch what it was. “It’s fine, sir. Clean and drying out. Hopefully we won’t get that muddy again anytime soon.”

“Maybe,” was all Mustang said in response to that, and moved on. “Alright, you all have your files, correct?” Five heads nodded at him, and one tail wagged. “Good. Let’s go over what we know.” He flipped open his file.

“This is yet another society formed after the Promised Day. It’s very secretive and very hard to find. If it was just about being secret, we wouldn’t have had any problems with it. However, there have recently been attacks that have been traced back to what the local authorities are calling the Spark. Apparently, people in the area haven’t been overly happy with the government, and this group is trying to spark some sort of conflict or knowledge to life.”

He flipped the page. “There’s several photographs of areas that they’ve attacked or been spotted at,” he said, taking the photos out and passing them around. “Unfortunately, the perpetrators themselves are never caught at the area.”

“How do we know that these are all the same group?” Breda asked. “It could be several different groups of people that the local authorities are blaming on one group.”

“That’s true,” Mustang said. “However, there is other evidence that links to this group. Unfortunately, it’s circumstantial at best, supposition at worst.”

“If it’s that unclear, then how come we’re being sent on this mission?” Havoc asked.

“We’re being sent because it’s unclear,” Mustang said, “And because of our expertise in dealing with alchemists.”

“There’s alchemy involved?” Havoc asked.

Mustang nodded. “One of the signs that has been seen at every crime scene are signs of alchemy. It’s a very good, very specific kind of alchemy. It’s almost impossible to spot if you’re not directly looking for it and covers its tracks very well.”

He pulled more papers out of the folder and passed them around. “This is Herman Stitue. He was an alchemist that specialized in Alchemy that was difficult to see, mostly for the restoration of objects, buildings, and other places like that. Fifteen months ago, he disappeared, and all of his research was stolen. Seven months ago, his body was found. Six months ago, these alchemic incidents that were covered up started happening. It’s suspected that he was kidnapped along with his research and made to train this group.”

Hawkeye seemed to tense up a bit at that, and Havoc wondered why. Sure, part of it, he knew, probably had to do with the General’s flame alchemy. It was a very secretive, very specialized form of alchemy itself. But this seemed to be a bit more than that. Maybe she was worried about Mustang getting taken on this mission too?

“In fact, when the disappearances of other alchemists were looked into, similar circumstances began to emerge. Investigations has been tracking this one for a while, as it seems that it’s mostly been alchemists with very unique or secretive forms of alchemy that have disappeared. This is the first real lead that has been discovered, and the Fuhrer decided it was best to send us on this mission.”

No one seemed willing to address the elephant in the room, so Havoc, as usual, bit the bullet and did it himself.

“Begging your pardon, General, but doesn’t it seem a bit risky sending you in? After all, Flame Alchemy isn’t exactly well known, and you yourself have the hands-free alchemy going on now. Seems like you’d be a prime target.”

“I know,” Mustang said, and glanced at Hawkeye, who seemed to be sitting very straight, clearly not happy with this turn of events, but also clearly having foreknowledge of it. “But that’s part of the point. It’s hopeful that my presence will draw them out and that we’ll be able to find and apprehend them more directly.”

He closed the folder. “It’ll be dangerous, but if we can ever get there, it’ll be worth it.”

“Yeah, well, first we have to get there,” Breda said. He looked out the front window, which someone had opened the curtains to, for whatever reason. “But that’s not going to happen any time soon, it looks like.”

“Alright. Then the question becomes, what do we do in the meantime?” Mustang asked.

“Not get wet,” Breda suggested, and Havoc rolled his eyes.

“We have enough supplies to stay here for a few days,” Riza said. “We can stay longer if I go hunting.”

“If we go hunting,” Havoc said. “I’m pretty good too.”

Riza conceded that with a nod. “You know how to dress a kill too, don’t you?”

“Of course. You got a place to do it? It won’t be good to do it in the barn with the horses.”

“No, that won’t work. It’ll make them too skittish. I used to just do it in the backyard, but with all this mud that won’t work.”

“I’d say your shed, but there’s too many chemicals in there to make me comfortable.”

“Mm, true, and it’s not very big.”

“What about the chicken coop? If Mustang can fix it up like he did that gazebo.”

“That might work.”

“Alright then! What kinds of things can we hunt around here?”

“Well, I’ve let the land grow wild, so probably a decent verity. Squirrels, rabbits, things like that obviously, but there should be some deer too.”

“That sounds good. Hey—ever get any waterfowl on that pond?”

“Okay—” Mustang interrupted them. “So, Hawkeye and Havoc are going to go hunting. What else?”

“Well, sir, if someone else doesn’t mind getting a bit dirty, there’s always the orchard and whatever is growing out there, and the old garden plot. Could be some vegetables still growing wild.” Hawkeye said. “I don’t mind taking care of it all, but that is something that someone else can do.”

“I can do it,” Falman volunteered. “I’ve been reading over some of the herbology books as well and I think that I might be able to identify other useful plants. I’ll be out anyway making my observations on the weather, so if I do it, no one else has to worry about being out in the rain.”

Mustang nodded. “Good.”

“I’ll keep working on the radio,” Fuery said. “And, when I’m finished, if there’s anything else that needs repairs or fixing, I can always take a look at that. Otherwise, just point me where I’m needed, sir.”

Mustang nodded. “We’ll probably take you up on that, Fuery.”

“I’ll help out with whatever needs to be helped out with around here,” Breda said, “but I’m also going to be working on these files. I want to be as prepared as possible for it, when we actually go.”

“Good,” Mustang said. “I’ll work on it too. We can discuss it. But I’ll also be on standby for any help that might be needed. If we can make it easier with my alchemy, then I’m more than happy to help.”

Hayate stood up and barked from where he was next to Hawkeye, his tail wagging.

“Ah, yes, good, Second Lieutenant Hayate,” Mustang said. “You’ll take guard duty. Excellent.”

“At least the pooch is being useful,” Breda muttered. He had a truce with the dog, but it was obvious to anyone that he was still not overly comfortable with him.

“For downtime, you’re welcome to make use of the library,” Hawkeye offered. “Or explore the grounds, if you want. Just please stay out of the study and unoccupied bedroom on the second floor, and the basement.”

That was at least twice she had mentioned for them to stay away from the basement and Havoc couldn’t help but wonder why. There hadn’t been anything special about it that he had seen when he was down there, except that it looked more like a lab then a basement, including a large table with a bright light over it. Maybe it was some alchemy thing, like telling them to stay out of her father’s study. He didn’t know, but Havoc had to admit that he was curious.

The rest of the day went fairly peacefully. Havoc and Hawkeye talked hunting strategies, and the best places to find things. Fuery worked on the radio, getting Mustang to help him make some parts. Dinner time rolled around, and they paused to eat, and then with some unspoken agreement, sat down their work after that and retired to the living room.

Havoc was glad to see that someone had closed the living room curtains, although he hadn’t recalled anyone doing it, cutting off the sight of the pouring rain and adding a layer between the window and ever-present chill the rain seemed to bring.

Fuery kept working on the radio, almost finished with it, and Havoc laid in the floor, stretching out his legs. Falman was in a chair, absorbed in a book, and Mustang and Hawkeye were on the couch, seemingly reading the same book, although Havoc was sure it was just an excuse to be close. Although, looking at them sitting there, a blanket pulled over their laps as they looked at a book, Havoc couldn’t help but wonder if he was looking at a picture of a younger Roy and Riza, sitting on the couch, reading, as children.

“Hey,” Breda had gotten up and come over to him. “Com’on.”

Havoc knew what Breda was talking about, and he laid on his back, lifting his legs up in the air. Breda pressed down on them, and they ran through some of the exercises that Havoc had gone through in Physical Therapy. While he no longer actually needed the exercises for his legs, as he had built up all of his former strength, it was still good to go through them. They felt good to his legs and sometimes they helped him sleep better as well. Breda knew the exercises well, as he had been with Havoc for a lot of his recovery, egging and pushing him on.

They were partway through this, when Fuery suddenly let out a satisfied noise, and all attention turned towards him.

“I think she’s fixed!” he said, and went to the front, fiddling with the nobs. He turned her on, and they all waited to see what the radio would bring. To everyone’s happy surprise, and Fuery’s eternal satisfaction, the radio seemed to find a station in all of the rain and began to play it.

“—was ‘The Xingese Sandman’ sung by Anette Hanshaw. And now we bring you an hour of your favorite instrumentals to dance along to. Find your girl, fellas, and hold her tight as you dance the night away with these favorites!”

“Hey, good job, Fuery!” Havoc said.

“See if you can find some news on somewhere,” Mustang instructed. “Or some sort of weather update.”

“Yes, sir,” Fuery said, turning the dial.

He switched through various channels, trying to find something, and Havoc couldn’t help but notice the way that Hawkeye and Mustang would give each other looks when they landed on the music stations. These two were just getting worse and worse at hiding this, weren’t they?

Ah well. It wasn’t like anyone here was going to rat them out. And maybe, just maybe, Grumman could do something about it. Havoc had seen the way he eyed the two of them. He wanted them to get together just as much as anyone else did.

Finally, Fuery landed on a station, and they listened as the news played out. There were, apparently, torrential rains over most of the country. Up north it had turned to freezing rain, and there were reports that even Drachma was having to shut down several things on account of it. There was widespread flooding, and stranded passengers from washed out tracks and roads. The military was as mobilized as it could be, but with the problems in transportation, there was only so much that could be done. Most places were simply working with what they had.

Mustang looked a bit grim as the news went off. “That doesn’t sound too good,” he said.

“It sounds like we’re going to be stuck here a while,” Breda said. “Means our chance might slip away.”

“Or they might be as bogged down as we are.” Mautang looked over at Havoc and Falman. “When were you planning on taking the horses and the cart back?” he asked.

“In about two more days,” Havoc said. “Why?”

“Well, I left word for Grumman about where we were and what happened, but it would probably be a good idea to check in. I might go with you,” he said.

“It’s too bad we don’t have a phone here,” Havoc said. “Then you wouldn’t have to leave.”

“Um, well, if someone in town is selling one, I could hook it up,” Fuery said. Eyes immediately swiveled to him. “It wouldn’t be too hard. I’d just need the phone itself and some cable. There’s already electricity in place, so there’s poles to run the phone wires on. And I think there was a place we passed that had a phone line, so it would really only be running it from there. It’s nothing I’ve not done before.”

Mustang frowned. “But in this weather?” he asked.

“Well, it’s not thundering and lightening, so it’s just the rain and wind I’d have to watch out for, which isn’t as dangerous.” Fuery said.

Mustang looked at Hawkeye, who nodded.

“Alright,” he said. “When we go into town, you come too and see if you can find what you need.”

“Can do, sir!” he said.

Havoc, meanwhile, had gone back to his stretches, grimacing a bit, and Hawkeye had taken note.

“Are your legs still hurting you?” she asked him.

“Yeah,” he said. “I’ll probably be up again tonight.”

She looked at Breda. “And your elbow.”

“Yeah,” he said, removing his hand from it as she spoke, like a little kid caught by a parent.

She frowned. “Sir,” she said, turning to look at Mustang. “Did you get those herbs I asked for?”

“I did,” he said. “They’re in the dining room.”

“Good,” she said, and got up, leaving the men behind. She came back a few minutes later with a pestle and mortar, and several different kinds of herbs and flowers and dried things that Havoc would have probably chalked up as “weeds.”

Falman was looking at it, intrigued. “What are you doing, Captain?” he asked.

“Well,” she said. “It’s a poultice I used to make as a girl, when my own limbs would ache. It’s not perfect and it’s not as strong as a lot of medicines, but it does well in that gap between “nothing” and “medicine that leaves me compromised.” Her hands were deftly working, almost as if they were moving on their own accord. She clearly knew what she was doing.

Havoc watched her and he and Breda continued to exercise and Fuery put the back on the radio again. Falman had moved next to her, and she was explaining what she was doing in very detailed language that Havoc honestly didn’t understand or could hope to understand. All he knew was that she was grinding things up in that little bowl and then adding things to it, making a poultice that would, hopefully, help him.

“Where’d you learn to do all of these things, Captain?” Fuery asked, and Havoc could see Mustang tense at the question.

“Oh, here and there,” she said. “From books, and from a few of the older ladies in town,” She paused, did something, and then went back to work. “Doctor’s visits were expensive, especially for minor things that could heal on their own, so I learned to take care of as much as I could myself. I’m hoping that this will help. As I said, I used it myself when my own limbs would ache.”

“Growing pains?” Fuery asked, but he sounded fairly confident in his answer.

“No,” Riza said, surprising them all. “I would typically use them after a hard day of cleaning, or cutting wood when I was a little bit older, or any other manner of physical stress, but it was also effective after father’s discipline.”

She said it like it was nothing, but Havoc couldn’t help but notice the tightening of Mustang’s lips, or the way the other men seemed to pause.

“…you mean like after that thrashing you said your dad gave you when you broke that dish?” Havoc asked, wondering if he could get a little more information.

Hawkeye let out a snort. “I wish I had this then. But I was five. I didn’t know about it yet. Besides, I understand why he was so upset.”

That didn’t make Havoc any more comfortable, but it was clear from Mustang’s look that Havoc—and the rest of them—weren’t to pursue. Instead, he changed the subject. “That’s the same stuff you gave me after that fight with Henry Thompson, isn’t it?”

“It is,” she confirmed. “And it helped, didn’t it?”

“It did,” he said. “It really did. I definitely was hurting then.”

“I’d say that it should have taught you not to pick a fight with someone bigger than you, or a larger group, but it didn’t do any good for that.”

“Hey—I couldn’t let them just push you around like that!”

“I’d have been fine. They pushed me around before and I always came out of it okay.”

“It wasn’t right.”

“Neither was you getting your face bashed in. You’re just lucky I got help and found that slingshot.”

Mustang laughed. “You took us all by surprise with those marbles and that slingshot.”

She looked up at him, amusement on her face. “Well, someone had to do something effective,” she teased. “You certainly weren’t.”

Before he could say anything more, Hawkeye got up, taking the bowl with her. “I need to add some water to this. I’ll be back in a minute.”

She got up and left and the men watched her leave the room before eyes slid back towards Mustang.

“It’s the captain’s private life, and I’ll let her decide what to tell you and what not to,” he said.

The men exchanged looks but didn’t say anything else.

Soon after Hawkeye walked back into the room with the bowl, it being full of something that smelled good and seemed, well, goopy.

“Here,” she said, handing it to Havoc. “Try this tonight after your shower. It should help, I hope. I’ve never tried it on something like this, specifically, but it’s worked on other aches and pains before. It’s worth a shot.” She looked at Breda. “I made enough for you to have some too, Breda,” she said. “It should work on your elbow as well.”

“Thanks,” he said, looking a little surprised. “I’ll try it out.”

“If it doesn’t work, let me know. I might can find something different. It just might take a little trial and error.”

Havoc was sniffing at it. “Huh. Maybe you should have become the local witch woman instead, Riza,” he teased.

“You hush,” she said. “There’s nothing magical about it. It’s just a knowledge of herbs and other plants.”

He just grinned at her.

It wasn’t long after that they all began retiring to bed. The showers had to be taken in stages, although Mustang was good at reheating the water for them. Havoc opted to go last, and so stayed downstairs for a bit longer, leafing through a book he had found. Hayate was down there with him, seemingly taking his guard duties seriously, padding in front of the doors and sniffing around, although he seemed to like sniffing around that basement door the most. It was almost enough to make Havoc want to open it and go back down there.

“Yo, Hav, your turn!”

Breda’s voice traveled back down the stairs, and Havoc turned from his musings. “Yeah, coming,” he said. He left his wanderings downstairs with his book and headed up the stairs to take his shower. It didn’t take him long to shower, and soon he was in the room with the stuff that Hawkeye had made for him. He looked at it, until Breda griped at him.

“Just try it already,” he said. “I’ve already put some on my elbow and it seems to help. It’s worth a shot.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Havoc replied. He scooped a bit out of the bowl it was in and started rubbing it on his legs and lower back. It soaked in like a lotion or oil would and he found it did start to help after a few minutes. “Wow,” he said blinking at the poultice. “Alright.”

“Yeah,” Breda said. “Whodathunk that Hawkeye would be a freaking herb lady.”

“Yeah,” Havoc said, and frowned a bit.

“Hey,” Breda waited until Havoc was looking at him. “What did you mean by that question you asked Hawkeye earlier? About a thrashing.”

Havoc frowned. “When we were here last time, I asked her about a broken dish. She said that she had tried to look at it as a child and broke it, and that her father gave her, her ‘first thrashing’.”

Breda frowned. “First thrashing?” he said.

“That’s what she said,” Havoc said. “She never really explained it more than that, and I didn’t think it best to push. Besides…” he frowned more. “She didn’t seem to think that it was a big deal, either, which… I’ll be honest, concerned me.”

Breda frowned, clearly starting to piece some things together. “Hav… what was she like the last time you were here?”

Havoc was silent for a moment. “…not good. She wasn’t doing well here. This place seemed to hold a lot of bad memories for her,” he said honestly.

“Anything in particular?” Breda asked.

Havoc’s brow furrowed. “Only one particular thing stood out to me. She wouldn’t go in the basement.”

Breda’s frown deepened. “She didn’t want to go down to it earlier, either,” Breda said. “Asked Mustang to go down there for her.”

“Yeah,” Havoc said. “When we were searching, she refused to go down into the basement. Mustang and I went down there, but she didn’t.”

He wasn’t going to mention how she had turned pale at it and then disappeared, having a breakdown on the roof of the house. It seemed like a private moment, and not something that she would want to spread to her men. She trusted them a lot, but Hawkeye had her pride.

Breda grunted, thinking, and then sighed. “Well. It’s not our business, unless it becomes our business. We might as well see if we can get any sleep tonight.”

“Yeah,” Havoc said, pulling back the blankets. “Night, Breda.”

Breda grunted, and nothing more was said.

Havoc slept better that night, although he still woke early with his legs still hurting him. The longer the rain went on, the worse it seemed to get. Still, he pushed on. Morning went as mornings did, with him, Hawkeye, and Fuery the first ones up. They worked on breakfast, and everyone stumbled down the stairs and to the coffeepot before they all settled in for breakfast. Riza worked on the kitchen while Havoc and Falman went out and tended to the horses. Then, rain gear on, Havoc and Riza went out to get the lay of the land. Getting lucky they managed to kill a few things for their hunt, and set a few traps, but they mostly found good places where they could probably bag a few deer.

They spent at least half the day out there, looking over places and tracks. There were a few human tracks that Havoc spotted, but Hawkeye reassured him that she allowed hunting on her land, since it was one of the few areas where the woods were allowed to grow wild. It was probably another hunter thinking about the fact that there wasn’t going to be much food coming via the trains or the roads anytime soon. Havoc couldn’t blame them for that.

They returned to the house muddy, but with a plan for the next day, and stripped out of their muddy clothes in the washroom before heading up for showers. Havoc let Hawkeye go first, taking care of their boots while she was showering, and then taking his turn.

Not long after that was lunch, and then they all started going over the information that Breda and Mustang had laid out. They put together a few more theories and ideas on what could be going on, but there was truthfully not much more they could do.

The next couple of days were much of the same. Hawkeye and Havoc got up early the next day, went hunting, and came back with a couple of dear which they spent the rest of the day preparing. Falman found and harvested some food from the orchard trees and from the remains of the old vegetable garden while making his observations. Fuery worked on things around the house, improving them or just outright fixing them. Mustang and Breda helped out where they could—except no one allowed Mustang in the kitchen after another near disaster that was only averted because of Breda’s quick thinking.

Although the days passed with a slow pace, all of them felt the urgency that was needed for their travel to continue. Finally, the horses were out of hay, and it was decided that the next day they would need to go back into town. Havoc was set to drive the wagon, as he was the most experienced out of them all, and the roads were still nothing but muck. Unfortunately, when Havoc woke up that morning, he was in a great deal of pain. His legs were aching more than normal and he winced as he sat up, relying more on his arms then anything else.

“Hey—Hav, you alright?” Breda asked him. The movement must have woken him.

“…. There’s… a lot of pain this morning,” Havoc said as he attempted to stand with some stability.

Thunder crashed overhead, and Breda looked up. “I wonder if that’s why,” he said. Concern creased his forehead “Hey—you lay back down, alright? You look like you could use it.”

Havoc wasn’t one to typically give in, but today the pain was pretty severe, and he laid back down in the bed with a grimace. “Yeah,” he said a bit breathlessly. “Yeah, I think I will.”

“Guess you won’t be making it to town today, huh?” Breda said.

“Nah, I’m afraid not. Probably best for me to take one of those pain pills and just not do much today. Sorry.”

Breda shook his head. “You can’t help it. I’ll let the others know.”

“Yeah… I’ll try to make it down in a bit.”

“Okay.”

Breda dressed then, and left, heading down the stairs. Havoc could hear the movement and the voices of the others as they woke and moved around, getting their day started. He grimaced. He felt useless, but there really wasn’t much that he could do about it. When he was in this much pain, there wasn’t much he could do at all, except sleep it off.

He let himself doze, at least until he heard some footsteps, and a knock at the door.

“Yeah?” he said, automatically starting to push up, and then aborting that when pain flared through his lower back.

Hawkeye appeared at the door, a tray for eating in bed in her hands. Havoc suddenly remembered that she had cared for her father near the end of his life, and he wondered if maybe she had used trays like that when he needed to eat.

“Heard that you’re feeling pretty bad today.” Thunder rumbled again, and she grimaced. “Think it’s the change in the weather?”

Havoc shrugged, and pulled himself to more of a sitting position, bracing himself through the pain. “Not sure. I wouldn’t be surprised, but all I know is that I’m in a lot of pain today.”

“Well, hopefully you can eat a little,” she said. “I brought you some breakfast.”

“You’re the best, Ri,” he said, shooting her a grin. He waited until she approached and noted the way that she settled the tray on his lap like a pro, and then set about making sure that things were in easy reach for him, almost without even thinking about it. “So, what’s the plan for the day?”

“The others are still going to go to town. Falman thinks he can drive the wagon, and if not, then between the four of them, they should be able to figure it out,” she said. “The General wants to call Headquarters and check in, Fuery wants to see about getting a phone set up, Falman thinks he’ll be able to take care of the wagon and the horses, and Breda has to ‘get out of this house’ or he’s ‘going to go stir crazy’,” she said with a grin.

Havoc laughed, but then gave her a sympathetic look. “Hey, Riza, if you want to go—” He felt a little bad about making her stay behind, and so he couldn’t help but make the offer.

But she shook her head. “No, I’m going to stay right here,” she said. “I had enough of the rain and muck when we were hunting. Besides—It’ll be easier to get some of the cleaning down without you men tromping around everywhere,” she teased.

“Oh, I see,” he said. “You just want some peace and quiet to yourself.” He teased her right back.

She laughed. “Maybe so. But even with that, if you need anything, just call.”

He shook his head. “Honestly? I’m going to take one of those strong pills and probably try to sleep this off. Although if someone could snag me a book or two that would be great.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” Riza said with a smile. “I’ll be back in a bit to get that. You just rest up.”

“Yeah, sure,” he said. “Thanks, Riza.”

She just smiled at him, and then left the room.

Havoc started eating, listening to the sounds going on down below him. He wished he was down there with them, but his legs ached like mad when he moved them, much less tried to get up. Riza came back for the tray, and Breda came back up later to finish dressing. He brought Havoc a stack of books and promised to look for something more his speed in town. Havoc pulled a face at him, but thanked him nonetheless, and got Breda to help him up and to the bathroom once before he left. Once he was settled back in bed, he took one of those little pills, and then listened as he heard the others leave. The pill did it’s work and, as he fell asleep, the last things he heard were the sounds of Hawkeye turning on the radio and getting to work downstairs.

The pills always sacked him out hard for a few hours, so Havoc wasn’t sure how much time had passed before he heard the noise of the others coming back in. They were being noisy, and something about it had Havoc trying to shake himself out of his drug-induced fog. He blinked, trying to focus and wake up. They seemed to be… calling for someone?... Riza? They were calling for Hawkeye? That didn’t make sense. He heard footsteps coming up the stairs, and then making their way around the rooms. That was confusing as well, and he tried to make sense of it, at least until Breda opened the door.

“Hey—you seen Hawkeye?” he asked.

Havoc shook his head. “Naw. I was asleep until just now.”

“Hm,” Breda said.

Havoc was waking up more now. “Why?” he asked.

“She’s not down there. Could she be out hunting or something?” Breda asked.

Havoc forced the sleep away as best he could, and sat up fully, ignoring the pain he felt. “She shouldn’t be,” he said. “Mornings or evening are best, and we’ve got plenty. I don’t even think she’d be checking the traps right now.”

Breda’s frown increased. “Alright. I’m going back downstairs. Something’s not right here.”

“Wait—” Havoc said. He pushed the blankets back and swung his legs out of bed, wincing. “I’m coming too.”

“You sure?” Breda asked, looking a bit concerned.

“Yeah—the pain’s not as bad right now, not with the medicine on board.” Havoc said.

“Alright,” Breda said, but he waited on Havoc to get up and pull on some pants before they both made their way down the stairs together.

Downstairs was not in good shape. Mustang looked grim and didn’t waste any words.

“Her boots and coat are still here,” he said, “and she’s not in any of the outbuildings. There’s no signs of foul play, but that doesn’t mean that there wasn’t any.”

“She’s not upstairs,” Breda said. “I checked all the rooms.”

A dusty Fuery came out from the kitchen. “She’s not in the attic either,” he said. “And no signs of any windows being opened.”

“Hey—where’s Hayate?” Havoc asked, suddenly realizing that the little dog was missing too.

“Maybe outside?” Fuery asked.

“If you’re asking about Hawkeye, she’s not there either,” Falman said, coming in the front door, dripping wet, his back to them as he closed it.

“What about Hayate?” Mustang asked.

Falman turned around. Nestled in his arms was a hopefully asleep Hayate, soaking wet and muddy.

“I found him outside, locked in the chicken coop,” he said. “He seemed to have been drugged.”

“Drugged?” Mustang said. The ramifications of that hit all of them. Hawkeye certainly wasn’t drugging Hayate and putting him outside. That meant that someone else had to have. That also meant that someone could have taken Hawkeye.

But there were no signs of foul play, and she most certainly would have put up a fight.

“…There is one place it doesn’t sound like you’ve checked,” Havoc said, and looked over towards the door that led to the basement.

Mustang paled immediately and turned on his heel to head straight for it. The others followed suit, Falman carefully hurrying to put Hayate down in front of the fireplace before joining them.

Mustang was already at the door, reaching to unlock it. The fact that was locked from the outside might have normally been reassuring, as it would have been impossible for the lock to be locked from the outside if someone was inside but considering that it was clear someone had been in the house, it wasn’t a reassurance anymore.

Mustang threw open the lock and pulled on the door, but the door didn’t budge. He tried again, but it didn’t move. He cursed, throwing the lock back into place, and then clapping and laying his hands on the door. A circle of it fell out, part of the door and part of the door frame, large enough to house the entire locking mechanism. Mustang didn’t even look at it. Instead, he threw the door open and raced down the stairs. The rest of them weren’t far behind him.

The basement was much as they had left it, with the same items around it. The only difference Havoc could see now was that the light over the table was on, and Mustang was trying to talk to Hawkeye, who was crouched in a corner.

No. Wait. She wasn’t crouched. She was curled into it, eyes blown wide, clearly terrified. Havoc glanced at Breda. Neither of them knew what was going on.

“Riza?” Mustang called out to her. “Riza?” he reached for her, and she flinched back.

“N-no!” she said, and there was thick fear coating her voice. “No, no, please! Not again! Not yet!”

“Riza—Riza please, it’s me, it’s Roy.”

“No, no, please, no, don’t, not again, not yet—”

She was pleading with him, begging for something—for something to stop, to not happen again, or to be delayed, and Havoc felt his stomach turn.

“Riza…” Mustang reached a hand towards her, and she closed her eyes and turned away from it, huddling into the wall as much as she could, letting out a sob. Her hands immediately came up to her mouth as if she had said or done something wrong, and she trembled.

“Riza, please! It’s Roy! Come on—” Mustang sounded desperate, and he reached out and touched her. She startled, terror flooding her eyes and suddenly she was moving, scrambling back, finding another place to hide under a desk that was down there. Sobs poured out from under it.

“No, no, Father, please no!” She was out right crying. “It hurts—please Father not again! Let me heal first! Please!”

“Roy—what’s going on here?” Breda asked, moving a step forward. “What’s she talking about?”

“Later,” he said. He glanced back at them. “I’m not putting you off—but we need to get her out of here first.” He turned to look fully at them. “Please.”

It wasn’t the commands of a superior officer. It wasn’t even the words of a leader. It was, instead, the plea of a friend.

“She doesn’t look like she wants to come out of there,” Falman said.

Mustang’s face was distressed. “I know—we’ve got to get her out there. Breda.”

“Yeah.” Breda’s voice was serious, and he moved next to Mustang. With a look at each other, they reached down and grabbed her arms, pulling her out.

Riza screamed as they did, thrashing in their grip. “NO! No Father, please no!” She twisted in their grip, and Havoc couldn’t help but notice that her gaze was fixated on the table that was down there. “Please, please, please, the drink doesn’t work anymore, it hurts, please don’t, don’t use the ropes again, please father no, don’t please!”

She was clearly caught in the full-on throws of a flashback, with no idea what was going on around her anymore. She was in a panic, not seeing anything around her, not fighting so much as reacting, and begging through tears for her father not to do something to her—all of which was… disturbing wasn’t even a strong enough word in Havoc’s opinion. It made him feel sick.

“The stairs,” Mustang said over her cries, and he and Breda hauled her over to them and up, Hawkeye still begging and pleading the whole time.

Fuery followed after them, and after a moment, Falman did too. Havoc brought up the rear, but he couldn’t help but look back at that table. The last time he was down here he had assumed that it was just a table, maybe for doing experiments on. But Hawkeye’s words, her begging, the talking of ropes, and those odd-looking metal loops in the table brought new possibilities to mind. Images of a young Hawkeye being strapped down to that table, tied down on it by her father while he… what? What did he do to her? His mind rebelled against imaginong any further, although dark thoughts of what it could be circled in his head, unacknowledged.

Whatever her father did, though, was traumatizing, and Havoc could feel dread living in his stomach from this. It was clear that Hawkeye had been through something awful at the hands of her father, and that it was more than a one-time event. With a last look at the table, he climbed the stairs, hoping that the situation would be improved when he got up there.

The situation was little improved. Hawkeye was still clearly upset, her cries still going on. She had been taken to the couch, where someone had put a blanket around her. She huddled in it like she was hiding, keeping it pulled closely around her, her back pressed into the couch. Mustang was kneeling in front of her, talking to her. Getting her out of the basement seemed to have done something, though, because she didn’t seem to think that anyone in the room was her father anymore.

Instead, she was upset about Mustang.

“R-Roy?” she said, and he reached out, gently putting his hands on her face.

“Yes, Riza, I’m here. I’m here, Riza.”

She was trembling, and her face crumpled, tears falling. “Roy…”

He smiled at her. “Yes—Yes, I’m here, Riza.”

“You—you came back.”

Havoc watched as understanding and disappointment flickered across Mustang’s face as her words made it clear to all of them that she wasn’t back with them yet, but that she was still caught in the past.

“Yeah. I came back,” he said, apparently deciding that it would be better to play along with this for the moment.

She closed her eyes and let out a sob, leaning into his hand. Suddenly, her eyes flew open, and her hands darted up to grab his wrists. “You—you have to leave! You have to leave! Father doesn’t approve of the military! He’ll kill you! He’ll—” She sounded so certain, so desperate, and Havoc exchanged looks with Breda.

Mustang shook his head. “No. No, I’m not leaving you.” His voice was firm, but there was something that Havoc thought sounded like regret in it.

“But father—” she started.

“He can’t hurt you anymore,” Mustang said.

Her gaze crumped again. “He’ll never stop looking for me, Roy—you don’t understand! He won’t give up! Not after what he’s done to me!”

“No!” Mustang snapped out the word with fierceness. “No, I promise you, Riza! He can never hurt you again! Never! I’ve made sure of it, and I’ll protect you! I swear it!” He moved quickly, wrapping her up in a fierce hug, holding her tightly as they sat there on the couch.

“…y…you promise?” she said, her voice trembling.

“I promise,” he said. “I swear it, Riza Hawkeye.”

She seemed to fall apart on him there, but they were tears of relief, and she clung to him, sobbing, thanking him, all the while he apologized for not coming sooner.

It was, to an extent, play acting, but Havoc could see clear regret in Mustang’s eyes—he regretted not stopping whatever had happened to Hawkeye sooner, not coming here sooner to save her from whatever it was that her father had done to her. Whatever this was, it went deeper than he had imagined.

The team still hovered, none of them sure of what, exactly, to do, and yet none of them wanting to leave Hawkeye’s side. Hawkeye’s tears eventually calmed, although it was because she fell asleep on Mustang, having cried herself to sleep under his reassurances that he wasn’t going to leave her.

Fuery was the first to speak. “…is she going to be alright?” he asked softly.

The room seemed to hold its breath.

“I don’t know,” Mustang finally said, which was not an answer any of them wanted to hear. “But I’m not leaving her. I promised her I wouldn’t.”

That much was pretty clear, Havoc thought, and to be honest, no one looked like they wanted to try moving him from the couch anyway—not when they could still see Hawkeye’s tear stained face and the way that she clung to him even in her sleep. Not when they could hear the echoes of her screams and sobs.

“What happened to her?” Falman asked and looked as if he immediately regretted saying it out loud, even if it was what they all were thinking.

Mustang just looked down at the woman in his arms, and gently stroked her hair. “Something traumatic,” he said. “Something horrifying. But… it’s not mine to tell. I won’t tell it. It’s up to her if she wants to entrust you with it or not. It’s not my decision to make.”

There really wasn’t any arguing with that, and the room fell silent. After a few moments, Fuery got up, and went to the kitchen. Havoc could hear him turning on water and starting to move pots around, clearly starting on supper, even though it didn’t look as if any of them were particularly hungry. Breda got up not long afterwards, and Falman as well. Havoc sat for a few minutes longer, and then he, too, got up and started to wander towards the kitchen. His legs were aching again, but he could at least sit and help cut up vegetables.

He walked solemnly out of the room, intent on heading straight for the kitchen. He paused, though, when he saw Falman and Breda looking at the lock that came from the basement door. It was still sitting where it fell when Mustang has used his alchemy to remove it.

“It doesn’t make sense,” Falman was saying. “I didn’t think it did then either, but I wasn’t as worried about it at that moment as I was about whatever had happened to Hawkeye.”

“No, you’re right,” Breda said, picking it up and looking at it. “It’s locked from both the inside and the outside. The outside makes sense, if someone wanted to keep her in there. But the inside? From the way she was acting, I doubt Hawkeye locked herself in there.”

“So then, how did the inside get locked?”

“That’s the hundred-million-cen question,” Breda said. “The only thing I can think of, is that there’s another way in and out of there.”

“If there is,” Havoc tossed in. “It either wasn’t there when Boss, Hawkeye and I came last time, or it’s extremely well hidden.” He shook his head. “I never saw any sign of a door or other opening down there. And you know Mustang would have mentioned it by now if he knew of one being down there.”

“Yeah,” Breda said, rubbing his chin. “Hey—how old do you think this house is?”

Falman and Havoc both looked around. “I’d guess over a hundred years old,” Havoc said.

“I’d say somewhere around one-hundred fifty, with renovations happening every so often.” Falman said. “Looking at the general style, the heights of door frames, and the way the foundation looks around the outside of the house, that is.”

“Yeah, okay, so, it’s old,” Breda said. “So, here’s a question: Why doesn’t the basement have an outside entrance? Just about every old house I’ve been in has an outside entrance to the basement for anything from coal to potatoes, to just a quick way to get in and out. So, where’s the one that belongs to this house?”

“There… isn’t one,” Havoc said, puzzled.

“Maybe,” Breda said. “Or maybe, there isn’t one now. If there is one and it’s somewhere, or if the remnants of it exist somewhere, then that might be how someone got in, locked the door from both sides, and still got out.”

“We’re going to need to find that, then, and see if we can prove it,” Havoc said.

“I’ll start looking around outside tomorrow,” Falman said.

“I’ll poke around too, if I can,” Havoc said. “I owe it to Hawkeye, at least.”

He felt a little guilty for the whole thing. How long had she been down there while he was sleeping in his bed, passed out from a drug? Had she called out for help? Had she screamed for him? Had whoever this was done something to her? He didn’t know. He didn’t know, because he had been sleeping instead of being up and facing the day like he was supposed to.

Pain be hung, he wasn’t going to let that interfere with his ability to be around or help his friends anymore. If he had to put up with pain so that they didn’t, then he would. He honestly never wanted to see Hawkeye in that position again, not if he could help it.

Breda seemed to sense what he was thinking and clasped his hands on Havoc’s shoulders. “Hey,” he said. “This wasn’t your fault, okay? You didn’t know and you couldn’t know. And taking that pill because your legs were in pain is not a bad thing. This was unpredicted. Don’t blame yourself.”

“Yeah, well…” he sighed. “I’m going to go help Fuery with supper.”

Breda let him go, obviously reading that, at the moment, there wasn’t a good way to convince Havoc to let go of the guilt. Logically, Havoc knew it wasn’t his fault. But knowing that didn’t make him feel less guilty, especially when he thought about Riza’s pleadings, screams and tears.

“Hey, Fuery, need a hand?” he asked as he walked into the kitchen.

“Hm? Oh, yeah… sure. Just... cut up these vegetables for me, will you? I’m going to make a soup for tonight. I think we could all use something a little warm and comforting.” Fuery said.

He wasn’t wrong, and Havoc knew it, but he also knew that he didn’t currently feel like eating. He pulled out a chair and sat down at the table, getting to work cutting the piles of vegetables that he had laid out. It was good mindless work for his hands as his brain thought and rolled over the knowledge that he had.

He knew that this place held bad memories for Hawkeye, ones that she didn’t want to discuss and that he hadn’t pushed. Mustang knew most of them, although clearly not all of them. Riza had told them that story about her and the water jars when they had been here earlier in the year, and he hadn’t known that one. Also, from the stories, he was about twelve when he arrived, and Hawkeye somewhere around nine. That left a lot of years for Riza to be on her own here.  Her mother had been alive long enough to teach Riza some things, but not long enough for Riza to form good solid memories of her.

Riza’s father had been harsh to say the least. That thrashing she talked about getting after she broke that plate, the one that she said was the first thrashing that her father had given her. Havoc was pretty sure that it wasn’t an over-statement of the past anymore, but a legitimate thrashing that her father had given her when she was five years old because she had dropped a plate he could have put back together again with alchemy.

He also knew that Her father had died in the house, and she had cared for him up until the end.

And now he knew that her father had done something horrific and traumatizing to her, something that, apparently, she was tied down for. The implications of that made a shudder run through him, and he now wondered if that had anything to do with the reason that she always wore shirts that completely covered her back, refusing to take them off.

What kind of a man was her father? And just how twisted up had he gotten her that she wouldn’t leave him after that and would, instead, care for him until his death? How had that been broken? He was beginning to understand now why she was so angry about coming back here those months ago. He’d have hated to be shoved back into a place that held a deep trauma like this too. He knew that she had trauma from Ishval as well. Just how had Riza Hawkeye managed to become so stable an individual after all of this? How had she survived in this house and come out as normal as she had? He didn’t know, and he wasn’t sure that he wanted to, but he was also worried about her. There were too many questions and not enough answers for his liking.

With a sigh he focused on the vegetables and chopping them up. He would likely get no answers tonight. None of them would. He didn’t know if they’d get answers tomorrow or not—it really was a long shot. But he did know that he would be there for Riza no matter what.

As Havoc predicted, no one was especially hungry, although they all tried to eat at least a little of the soup. Most of it was put into the refrigerator for later. Hayate, at least, was feeling better, although it was clear that the little pup was still groggy. He mostly wanted to curl up and lay on people. Even Breda was gentle with him this time, gently pushing the little pooch away from him.

Havoc didn’t particularly want to leave Mustang and Hawkeye down here on the couch alone—none of the team did—but staying up all night would do no good either. Breda and Falman told Mustang of their concerns about the basement. Together with Fuery, they worked on something to make sure that if there was an entrance to the house from the basement, whoever it was either wouldn’t be able to get into the house or would set off alarms if they did. Mustang was armed with his gloves and a small pistol, and Hayate was sleeping on the couch with them as well. In an unspoken agreement, Havoc, Breda, Falman, and Fuery all took turns standing watch that night. However, even for those that attempted sleep, there were a lot of wandering feel and frequent bathroom trips. It seemed no one could quite relax.

Havoc laid in bed and tried to sleep, although it didn’t seem to be working. Outside, the rain poured even harder than before, drowning out any other sound he might have heard. The thunder and lightning came in waves of noise. It all seemed strangely appropriate for this day, and it felt like a bad omen somehow. Was something worse to come in the future? He wasn’t one to believe in such things, but he still found himself hoping that favor would look kindly upon them. This had surely been enough excitement for one trip, right?

[annabeth707]

@collecterofshinythingsgremlin You asked for a Psych fic so here is what may be the worst thing I've ever written.

Psych AU, where Lassie and Shawn used to be a couple before a break up.

Chapter 1: The Pilot

1986

     “You do your homework?” A younger Henry asks Young Shawn. 

     “Uh-huh.” Shawn replies. 

     “Finish those beets?”

     “Yep, can I have the fudge cake now?”

     “Close your eyes.” 

     “Dad, I don’t wanna…”

     “Now.” 

     “Ugh,” Shawn replies, shutting his eyes.

     “Which letter in the exit sign is out?” Henry asks. 

     “The x.” 

     “What color is the vinyl?”

     “What’s vinyl?” Shawn asks. 

     “The stuff these seats are covered in.” 

     “Purple.” 

     “Maroon, close enough. What’s the manager's name?”

     “Who?”

     “She’s wearing a name tag. The woman standing at the front door when we first walked in, you saw her.”

     “Marie. Can I have the cake yet?”

     “How many hats?” 

     “Ugh, come on Dad!” Shawn says exasperatedly.

     “Shawn, you want a piece of cake? How many hats are in the room?” Shawn his eyes closed, thinks hard. 

     “Does a beanie count?” 

     “What do you think?”

     “Three.”

     “You didn’t describe them.”

     “That’s not fair.” 

     “Times almost up, Shawn.”

     “One has a flower, the one the lady’s wearing. One has a picture of some kind of lion, on the weird guy with the crooked tooth. The last one is on the chef,” Shawn replies.

     “What about the beanie?”

     “A beanie’s a can not a hat.” 

     “Alright, open your eyes,” Henry says, and Shawn does. 

     “Thank you!” Shawn replies.

     “Wow that’s amazing,” the manager Marie says. 

     “It’s adequate. Get him his cake,” Henry says. 

     “I guess I know what you’re gonna be when you grow up,” Marie says. 

     “Oh, I’m never going to grow up, ma’am,” Shawn replies. 

2006 

      Shawn stumbles into his apartment with his date for the night. As they lay down on the couch Shawn bumps the remote accidentally turning on the TV, and the news starts playing. On the news is the coverage of a police investigation of a Stereo Shop that got robbed Shawn leans over and grabs the phone. “What are you doing?” His Date asks.

     “Calling the police, I think I just closed a case.”

     “Are you a cop?”

     “Oh, no, no, no. Definitely not a cop,” Shawn says before talking into the phone. “Ah, it’s the store manager he did it.” 

     “Pardon me?” The woman asks. 

     “Uh, the stereo robberies, at Divisions chain store. He’s on Channel 8 News right now. His hands, nervous tick, dead giveaway. And he won’t look the reporter in the eyes.” He pauses as the woman asks for his name. “My name? My name is Shawn Spencer.” He hangs up the phone before saying to his date, “Also, the tags on the news van have expired but that’s a completely other issue. 

Later at the Police Station

     Detectives Carlton Lassiter and Lucinda Barry, are questioning the manager of the shop that got robbed. 

     “Fine, I confess I did do it, but I had a partner in,” The manager eventually confesses. They have Officer McNab come in and take him to a cell. 

     “So, now we just need to find this partner of his,” Lucinda says. 

     “What was the name of the man who called this in?” Lassiter asks. 

     “Shawn, Shawn Spencer,” she replies. Lassiter feels a twang in his chest at the name. “You think he’s the partner?”

     “He did tip us in on the manager when he wasn’t even really a suspect.” 

     “Let’s see what we can pull up on this, Shawn Spencer,” Lucinda replies. 

Later

     Shawn walks into the Santa Barbara Police Station, hoping to get commendation for calling in his tip. He gets directed over to a bench but not before he notices the cop’s desk covered in lucky charms. As Shawn takes a seat on the bench he listens in on the cop’s phone call. “Eighty dollars is a lot for a reading. But she was astounding, I mean, she knew about Granny’s childhood, and the curious she left Bobby, I mean, I could literally feel her spirit in the room,” The cop says to her friend. Shawn turns his attention to the man next to him who has the word Bloodthirsty tattooed on his forehead. 

     “Get out of here,” Shawn says. “You know I have the same tattoo. They spelled bloodthirsty’ wrong on mine, can you believe it?” The man lunges at Shawn but is handcuffed to the bench. “I can’t believe you didn’t test that out first.” A door opens and Shawn spies Buzz McNab practicing his dance steps. Shawn returns his attention to the man next to him. “What did you do? Bust up your ex wife’s car?”

     “Her new boyfriends,” he replies. 

     “That’ll teach her.”

     “They got no witnesses.”

     “Sweet. But you might want to brush the taillight off your sleeve.”

     “Gee Thanks,” He brushes them off but they fall into his boot. Buzz comes and escorts Shawn to an interrogation room where two detectives are waiting. 

     “What’s going on?” Shawn asks. The detectives turn to look at him, and with a pang in his chest he recognizes the male detective. It was Carlton Lassiter or as Shawn used to call him Carly. He had dated the detective years before but they broke up when the detective had left for the police academy and they had decided it would be easier to break up then have Shawn move with him. 

     “Where were you on the night of the last robbery?” Lassiter asks him. 

     “I was robbing a stereo store,” Shawn says sarcastically. “I wasn’t and I don’t know, I guess I was doing the same as you were doing. Not solving crime. So what happened with the manager?”

     “He confessed but he said that he had a partner.”

     “And you think I’m a suspect? Really Lassie? Should I call you Lassie or go back to Carly?” 

     “You’re our lead suspect, Spencer.” 

     “Do you guys know each other? Lucinda asks. 

     “We used to be friends before I entered the academy.” Lassiter says. Before turning back to Shawn goes on to explain why Shawn is the lead suspect. A little while later the officer from the front desk, Officer Allen shows up and cuffs Shawn, they move out into the hallway next to some holding cells. 

     “Oh, come on, cuffs? What? For the walk back to the lobby?” 

     “Or you could give us a plausible explanation,” Lucinda says.

     “Okay, okay. Fine, you win. I got the information, because… I’m a psychic.” Officer Allen drops the cuffs. 

     “Get him out of here,” Lassiter says. 

     “Oh, boy,” Shawn says. “You grandma would be proud,” he says looking at Allen. 

     “You spoke to her?” She asks. 

     “I did. She’s safe, comfortable. She wants you to stop spending all your money on those charlatans.”

     “The palm readers?”

     “The palm readers,” Shawn confirms. 

     “Okay, just to be clear,” Lucinda says. “You’re claiming to be psychic, Mr. Spencer.” 

     “How else would I know that you two have been sleeping together?” he says to the detectives.“One, two, three. One, two, three. One, two, three. One…” he turns to Buzz. “When’s the wedding?”

     “May 3rd,” Buzz replies. “Wait how’d you know?”

     “I’m getting dance lessons for a wedding reception. And you are getting good.”

     “Wow, that’s amazing.” 

     “Oh, come on. Who’s buying this?” Lassiter asks. Buzz and one of the prisoners raise their hands. 

     “I got it,” Shawn says. “Go to detention room number two, shake down your vandal. You’ll find all the evidence you need.” Shawn starts shaking his left foot. “All the evidence is in his left shoe.” A little while later Shawn leaves the precinct before getting stopped by the Chief. 

(You know what happens, might fill in later)

     “It’s him!” It’s McCallum! I can see his face! The killer is McCallum. Check his wrist! Check his right wrist! The teeth marks will line up!” 

     “How did you do that?” Lassiter asks Shawn a few minutes later. 

     “I wish I knew,” Shawn replies. 

Later that Same Day

     Shawn was in his apartment when he heard a knock on his door. He got up from the couch where he was sitting and walked over to the door. Shawn opened the door to reveal Lassiter standing there. “Can I talk to you Shawn?” The man asks.  

     “Yeah, come on in.” They walk over to the couch. “Can I get you a beer?” Shawn asks walking over to the fridge. 

     “Sure,” Lassiter replies. Shawn grabs two beers and joins Lassiter on the couch and hands him one. 

     “So, what did you want to talk about?” Shawn asks. 

     “Well,” Lassiter says. “When I saw you in the station and when we were together while working the case, I could feel my feelings for you returning and I tried to suppress them the entire time, but I don’t think I can anymore Shawn.”

     “Lassie,” Shawn says. “I’ve never been able to get over you, no matter how many girls or boys, I dated you were the one I couldn’t get over.” The two men moved closer together and their lips met. “I missed that,” Shawn says a few seconds later after they break apart. 

     “So, Shawn, are you going to be calling me Lassie or Carly?” 

     “How about Lassie in professional setting and Carly in more.” Shawn leans over and whispers into Lassiter’s ear. “Intimate settings.” Lassiter moves and presses their lips together again, and as they move into Shawn’s bedroom their beers lay forgotten. 

All of the Spellingg Bee episode that I have rewritten will be in my next post

[misstrashchan]

RWBY V8 CH12 Initial Thoughts:

Yes yes I'm late watching the new episode don't look at me. Also @tumblezwei thank you thank you for showing me how to put the read more bit on posts, I can finally put it to good use.

Figured I might as well do a reaction/initial thoughts to this episode since I haven't done that in a while, so here goes:

- Man Ironwood is just. Super overcompensating with his Gun-gun.

"You've done the right thing."

"I have. Feels weird"

-I'M SORRY THAT WAS THE BEST LINE OF THE EPISODE HANDS DOWN. Just. The sass. The growth. Kicking Ironwood in the face while cuffed (does she have experience doing that? Fighting while arrested? It kinda looked similar to Mercury's fighting style too.) EMERALD I LOVE YOU.

- Ngl I feel extremely satisfied that we can finally FINALLY put the "Winter is Totally Going To Be A Villain" theory to bed after this episode. Not that I didn't used to see the appeal of it myself, but v8 made it increasingly clear that wasn't where her arc was headed. Also Schneebling reunion on the horizon? Pretty please???

- *Sees Oscar riding on the Chimera summon with Winter*

*Remembers Oscar riding with Yang on the hoverbike in episode 2*

My Snowpines/Rosegarden shipping ass: Gee Oscar, how come you get TWO big sister-in-laws?

- Small thing but it's always nice to see team ALPN fighting together. I know a few Oscar fans were freaking out about Penny potentially replacing Oscar as their teammate, but like I thought that wasn't really something to worry about. *gently bonks Oscar fanbase* Sillies.

- I'm a little suprised given how Ironwood is the Big Bad of the Atlas arc how quickly he went down, without much dramatic flair or further esculation, but I am so glad Winter got that last awesome shot on him. (and that Oscar managed to get a few jabs in too) And like. He's still alive in jail. So who the hell knows what we're gonna do with him now. Take him to Vacuo along with Jaques apparently. I'm sure that'll go greeeeaaat.

- Ambrosius... after a quick google search the name apparently means "Divine" or "Immortal" in Greek. Hm. Unlike Jinn, not a specific reference to a mythical being, at least not in name, but I'm sure people are already theorizing on that front better than I could. Similar blue/gold design too. So maybe they're all Djinns in a sense, since they grant your desires, but split into four focusing on a specific kind of desire? That works. Anyways, super fun character and I hope they make more use of him. Like, because I wanna see more of his personality and also Oh my Gosh the Things You Can Do With His Powers are Basically Limitless as long as you're smart about it (hint hint get the CCT active around Remnant but Better)

- And gosh were our girls smart. Weiss working with Whitley to get the schematics and coordinates for the exact points of evacuation that they had originally planned out for their ships to create portals to the Vault/Central Zone (?) to Vacuo, Ruby puting in careful thought and wording about creating a copy of Penny with the existing robot parts from her to let the girl who was always there underneath remain and leaving the copy with the virus to self destruct, with Penny's designs for reference, they absolutely did their homework. Of course there was the risk of if Penny could exist without that physical form, but of course they all believed in her.

- Self destructing Not!Penny crawling towards the real Penny is super creepy and hopefully something she doesn't have nightmares about

- Of course the first thing Penny does when she realises she's a Real Girl is hug everyone so she can experience the joy of Real Normal Warm Hugs.

"Are hugs always this warm?"

"Yes, Penny"

"Woooow"

-MY HEART. No actually back up, back up, the Nuts and Dolts shipper in me is singing rn, because all the times Penny has been hugged by Ruby this volume and only now is she actually able to actually feel that hug. Like, the sentiment and emotional support of it was always there and obviously appreciated by her before, but like. Now she can FEEL it.

- I'm super happy for Penny and seeing her back to her cheerful adorable self is Delightful, but at the same time I'm now really worried for her too. She doesn't have to worry about the virus anymore, now she's a regular meat person, but here's the thing. She's a regular meat person. No more rocket boots. No more lasers. No more in built swords attached to her body with strings. No more resistance to harsher elements. No more night vision. Obviously she's still the Winter Maiden, so she's still a force to be reckoned with, and she has RWBY with her, but she's still a rookie maiden that is massively vulnerable right now. She's vulnerable in her new human form to anyone coming after her. And like. Things just feel like they're going too smoothly...

- Speaking of, hello hello my ominous darling Cinder. Just like last volume, when things seem to be going too smoothly, there you are. So Watts cut off Jaune's broadcast and all other communications in the kingdom, and I'm guessing Cinder's jumping in those portal spaces with Neo to come after Ruby and Penny? That along with the "Do Not Fall" warning seems... yeah something's gonna go terribly wrong by the end of this volume. Salem, Ironwood, Mantle, Penny... All these loose ends are just being dealt with so quickly and neatly for me to be fully comfortable.

- tfw you've read Before the Dawn and know that Vacuo was already struggling with refugees coming in since Atlas had closed its borders, Vale was overrun with Grimm, and Mistral had its defences spread thin already being the widest reaching kingdom, along with Leo, Hazel and Tyrian denting it even further in offing all the huntsman and huntresses, and Vacuo's people are already pretty stingy with outsiders, and if there are thousands coming from the kingdom that closed it's borders and ordered an dust embargo... oh boi the Vacuo arc is gonna be a doozy.

- I know it's probably too close to Atlas and therefore Salem, and we need a convenient way to segue into the Vacuo arc, but couldn't Argus have been an option for the portal evacuation? At least, as well as Vacuo?

- OH FUCK YEAH I FORGOT THEY MENTIONED THE WRITERS SAID V9 WAS GONNA BE A DETOUR AND WASN'T JUST GOING TO BE JUMPING STRAIGHT TO VACUO. So like. Are they gonna get lost in a void of time and space? Are they going to jump through time by accident? Or just in space? Both? If you fall do you just end up randomly in the middle of the desert, far from Vacuo? And v9 is just going to be RWBY trekking through the desert? Similar to v6 after the train crash? So many questions.

-Hmm. Torn between Cinder going after Penny/Ruby with Neo in the vault space, or potentially being confronted by ALPN+Emerald... JNR+Emerald seems more narratively fitting, but Neo seems deadset on her and Cinder killing to Ruby...

- I wonder if Qrow is gonna confront Ironwood while he's in jail... Role reversal of the start of the volume. Or maybe he's just going to consider it worth his time.

-Taking all the established Atlas characters right with us into the Vacuo arc seems like it's going to be... A Lot. At this point I wouldn't be surprised if team RWBY really did end up jumping in time in V9 to fast forward on the two city populations integrating with one another, like maybe by a few months? Idk I'm just spitballing. Initial thoughts and all.

- Last point but the hooded cowl is such a great look on Cinder. Love it.