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fullmetalscullyy · 4 years

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Hello, I saw your post about being open for prompts and I had an idea about havocs gf in Central being Rebecca after all before they get relocated, could be angsty as hell, so if this might vibe with you... Just a thought

aaaah thank you sm!! this was a fun one bc i’ve not written havolina in a long time! thank u for getting me back into it with this wonderful idea hehe 💖 i hope you enjoy this lil sprinkle of angst

Jean closed his front door with a dejected sigh. Movement came from inside his apartment, so he knew she was already here. His eyes closed briefly, an attempt to collect his thoughts and steel himself for the upcoming conversation. It would be hard as hell.

“Hey,” Rebecca greeted him, popping her head into the hallway to offer him a beautiful smile.

Turning, he hid his forlorn look and paused, taking in her bright expression upon seeing him and the way her dark hair tumbled over her shoulder. An apron clung to her body and was dotted with red splashes of sauce. She was in the middle of cooking them dinner.

Jean’s chest tightened but he forced a smile through it, returning her greeting.

“I’ll be back in a few,” he stated. One of his hands lifted to grasp her waist lightly as he pecked her cheek. “I’m going to get changed.”

Rebecca said nothing but he could feel her eyes on him as he left her in the doorway to his kitchen.

“Okay…” She knew something was off, but then again he’d never been perfect at hiding his emotions. By God, did he try, but when it hurt this much it was hard.

Changing out of his uniform took far longer than it should have, mainly because once he’d changed, Jean sat down on his bed and didn’t move for ten minutes or so. He just stared at his bedroom wall, trying and failing miserably to come up with the words he needed to tell Rebecca he was being transferred away.

They were in the Academy together with Riza. The two of them had hit it off right from the start and he’d been smitten with her for years. They’d fooled around more than once… Multiple times. It was all fun and games though. Nothing serious. Not friends with benefits but not a relationship. It was casual, which suited them both, but recently Jean had realised that he didn’t want to be casual anymore. Neither did she.

For a few months they’d had something resembling a relationship. It was budding but it had been beautiful. That was also when Jean Havoc realised he’d fallen for Rebecca Catalina years ago but had never admitted it to himself. Even after fooling around and she’d dozed off, Jean had been content just to watch Rebecca sleep for a while and marvel at her features. He’d stroke her face and press a kiss to her forehead, a ritual of his after every night together in each other’s bed, then fall asleep.

And now, after finally coming together, they were being ripped apart.

“Jean?”

He blinked and returned to the present, finding Rebecca’s face right in front of his. She looked wary and worried at why he wasn’t moving, just staring into space in his bedroom. Shit!

“What’s wrong?” she asked. Her voice was even and controlled as she tried to discover the root of his suffering.

The words froze in his throat. If he voiced them aloud then it would become a reality. And he really didn’t want to leave her to go to Central.

“Come on,” she urged gently. Rebecca’s hands grasped his biceps and nudged him to stand from the bed. “Dinner’s almost ready.”

“Rebecca,” he whispered as emotion clouded his voice. Damn it! Don’t lose it now!

“Dinner is almost ready,” she repeated. One corner of her mouth quirked up. “I’m known as a shit cook and I don’t want to add any more fuel to that fire by burning our food.”

“I – I have to tell you something –” Jean was standing now, turning to face her as she gently but firmly made him walk out of the room.

“Later,” she promised. “Dinner first.”

“I can’t –” he started to argue. He couldn’t sit there in an uncomfortable silence because the weight of what had happened to him that day was hanging over him.

“You’re not the only one who works at Eastern Headquarters,” she reminded him softly.

A pained look crossed her face and Jean froze. She already knew.

“When a you, up and coming officer like Mustang gets promoted to Central, news travels fast,” she explained.

Rebecca walked around Jean to re-enter his kitchen. She busied herself over the stove as she turned dials and began to dish up.

“So, you already know?”

Rebecca nodded. Jean could tell by the set of her shoulders that she wasn’t happy about the news and that made things even worse. This was hurting her.

“We’re going to sit down to dinner. Have you washed up?”

Jean stared at her, watching her move. Why wasn’t she more upset about this? Or angry?

“Rebecca –”

“Have you washed up?” she asked, her tone more forceful than before.

Jean nodded. “Yes.”

“Then come and help me dish up the food.”

It smelled delicious and his stomach rumbled loudly, but it also twisted painfully, affecting his appetite.

“We are going to sit down to dinner,” Rebecca stated as she lifted her own plate and gestured for him to sit at his table. “Because I put far too much time and effort into it for us not to. Then,” she added, taking a deep breath. “We can talk about it. Although I don’t really know what there is to talk about. It’s going to happen and that’s a fact. Regardless, you clearly want to.” Her eyes lifted to meet his once she was seated. “So, we can,” she smiled.

“I don’t want to leave you,” Jean whispered. His food was forgotten before him, which truly was a crime because like Rebecca said, she’d spent time on this for him. No, for them. She’d made them dinner and had it ready for him coming home from work. He’d never had a girlfriend who’d put such an effort in before. They mostly just wanted to order in or expected him to cook instead. Rebecca had gone out of her way to make them something from scratch, and he found it to be a lovely gesture.

“I know,” she admitted quietly as she took a bite of her food.

“I tried…” he trailed off. “I tried to ask if you could come too but…”

“That would never happen,” Rebecca finished.

“No,” Jean conceded glumly.

“Well, we’ll just have to make the most of the time we have left,” she reasoned, her voice determined. Glancing up at him, she gestured towards him with her fork. “Eat,” she prompted. “Please.”

Jean picked up his fork and took a bite just to appease her, but found it was very tasty. He took another.

“Is that what you want?” Jean asked as he swallowed thickly.

“Want?” Rebecca frowned.

“Well, I mean, you don’t have to stay if you don’t want to –”

“I’m not going to let you finish that thought,” she interrupted.

“Why?”

“Because of course I want to stick around!” Rebecca exclaimed. “How could you think I wouldn’t?”

“Because…” Jean floundered. “I don’t know,” he admitted. He dropped his eyes to his plate. “I just wanted to give you an out,” he mumbled. “In case you wanted it.” His shoulders rounded in on themselves as he tried to hide from the painful feelings creeping in his chest. He had to give her that chance just in case she wanted it. He’d never ask her to wait around and wouldn’t expect it either. She was smart, quick-witted, and absolutely gorgeous. Rebecca was way out of his league, so he had to give her a chance to leave. He was nothing special to pine over.

Rebecca stood from her chair. She knelt beside him and took his face gently in between her hands. His head was turned to face her. “Of course I want to stay. I love you, Jean. And I’m willing to see this through if that’s what you want.”

“See this through?” he echoed, feeling something like hope creep up his chest, dousing the fire of some of the pain already residing there.

Rebecca nodded. “Absolutely. We have phones. We have letters. God, that would be so romantic,” she winked. “And we have annual leave. Central isn’t a million miles away from here,” she reminded him gently. “There’s trains. I will absolutely come visit.”

Jean wrapped his arms around her tightly. “I love you,” he whispered.

Rebecca gripped onto the back of his t-shirt tightly. “I love you too. I’m not going to give you up this easily, Jean Havoc!”

He pulled away, cupping her cheek lightly. “What did I ever do to deserve you?”

“Did you expect me to leave?”

He nodded, somewhat nervous. “It’s a lot of effort, long distance.”

“You’re worth it,” Rebecca promised.

Jean pulled her in tight again, but his face was a grimace. Despite having her on board and willing to try a long-distance relationship, it would still be hard. He didn’t know when they’d be leaving yet, so Rebecca was right. He had to make sure every moment counted. He would ensure he cherished every little moment they had left together, because after the move he had no idea when he’d see her in person again.

i know he goes on to “date” lust but ehhhh let’s call it undercover dating bc this is cute uwu (makes things even angstier tho bc he’d probably tell rebecca abt it to get the ok from her… oh boy, more relationship angst!)

#havolina #havolina fic #havolina fanfic #havolina oneshot #2ndlt-rebecca-catalina #ask #emma writes #fic request #writing prompts

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lessonsfrommadamexmas · 5 years

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This is a little gift for @flourchildwrites. Caught Redhanded is one of my favorite fanfics and I was reading it again, so I decided to create this moodboard as a way to tell you how much I appreciate all your help and your beta work. :-) Unfortunately, I didn’t manage to capture your brilliant comedic tone. XD

#havolina fanfic #havolina moodboard #fma aesthetic #jean havoc #rebeca catalina #royai #fic rec #romantic comedy #although the image feels angsty LOL

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ohmytheon · 7 years

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spend the day in bed, havolina

Havoc was supposed to be at work in thirty minutes, but instead found himself on the phone coughing and weakly pleading. “I can’t make it in today. I know it’s last minute, but it must’ve been something I ate last night.”

“We ate the same thing, Havoc.”

“I guess yours was cooked more than mine.”

He should’ve known that Riza would see right through his charade, but he couldn’t give up now. He was fully committed to this plan and he would follow through with it, even if it meant going into work and acting sick the entire day. He should have called earlier, but he’d been a little…preoccupied and hadn’t thought of it until now.

Riza sighed on the other end. “Stay home and rest.”

“Thanks, Hawkeye, I appreciate it.”

There was a very knowing tone in her voice when Riza replied, “Tell Rebecca I said hi,” before she hung up.

Havoc cringed, but a little grin wound its way onto his face as he hung up the phone. Next to him in bed was indeed Rebecca, who was practically hanging on him as she’d tried to listen in on the conversation with bated breath. It had been difficult for her to stay silent as he knew that she had wanted to give him pointers on how to con Riza, but she had managed it.

“So?” Rebecca demanded.

“I’ve been ordered on bed rest,” Havoc declared as he dropped back in bed.

Rebecca squealed in delight and threw her arms around him. It felt good to have her body up against his, but to be honest, he did kind of want to sleep at least a little if he was going to have the day off. After all, they had been up all night. By the time they’d realized that the sun was starting to rise, Havoc had not been looking forward to work. She snuggled up against him, lazily kissing his neck.

Good god, was this woman not tired?

“Feels good,” she murmured against his skin and he could finally hear the sleepiness in her voice. He smiled to himself as he sunk further against the pillows, one arm wrapped around her so he could brush her shoulder with his fingertips. She liked her hair played with, but after a very active night, it was in tangles and would not be pleasant.

“Anything you want to do in particular later?” Havoc asked.

Rebecca grinned up at him. “Besides you?”

“Mm, besides that,” Havoc replied cheekily as he leaned down to kiss her.

He savored this feeling, this moment, this day. It wasn’t that long ago when lying in a bed had been more of a punishment than a pleasure. He hadn’t wanted to stay in bed for one more day and yet right now there was nowhere in the world that he would rather be.

There was no one in the world he would rather be with. To think, he’d honestly believed that he had lost his opportunity with her. In a way, the things that had torn them apart had brought them back together and he couldn’t imagine being here with anyone else but her.

“I love you,” Havoc suddenly said.

Rebecca startled against him, jerking back slightly, and gazed at him with wide eyes. There was an unreadable expression across her face, but he thought he could see the fear in her eyes. She was still, a deer caught in headlights, her face just as pale.

Havoc didn’t worry though. He knew her insecurities. He knew her worries. He knew her pain and her sorrow. He’d caused some of them in the past. But that didn’t make what he said any less true. He smiled down at her, gentle and patient, letting her know that he didn’t expect anything in return. He would wait for her.

“Seriously?” Rebecca asked, almost sounding accusing. Put him on the defensive. Make him stumble in case he was lying. He knew a trick when he saw it, but it wouldn’t work this time.

“Yeah, seriously,” Havoc answered coolly, shrugging his shoulders. “I love you.”

Man, not even Mustang could be this smooth. The only difference was that it wasn’t fake. This was all natural. He’d thought that he would be a nervous wreck when he told a woman that he loved her for the first time, but he just knew. It was like he’d always known, like he’d loved her from the beginning, like he was supposed to stay home from work today to tell her.

“You’re being serious,” Rebecca said, shock evident in her voice. Her body slowly relaxed, as if in a dream, like she couldn’t believe what she was hearing.

It made Havoc laugh. “What? You thought I was joking?”

“Well, I mean,” Rebecca mumbled, “men say things after…you know…”

“Guys might say some dumb stuff during and definitely before,” Havoc pointed out, “but I’m serious. I love you and your curly hair and every curve. I love how much you like to argue and how you’re determined to be right. I love your drive and your readiness to help out anyone in need.”

Rebecca blushed deeply and buried her face against his chest, lightly swatting at him to get him to stop. “Now you’re just being corny.”

“I thought you secretly liked corny.”

She sighed in defeat. “I do. That’s why I’m so mad.” She didn’t sound mad though. In fact, he could feel her smiling, the upward tug of her lips telling him that she was the opposite of mad. It made him smile. Finally, she lifted her head up and glanced at him nervously. “You don’t mind if I…”

Havoc shook his head. “Take your time, princess. Take all the time you need.”

The look of relief and fondness on her face was worth it all. Back in the day, he had wanted nothing more than a relationship and had been willing to jump from one to the next when it didn’t work out. But after the incident, after not being able to walk, after nearly dying so many times, he’d learned to be patient. It seemed strange to learn patience after almost losing everything, but instead of making him wanting everything right away, he’d grown to appreciate the traveling it took to get there. And he’d savor every moment with Rebecca for as long as he could, even if it meant just lying in bed with her all day.

#havolina #jean havoc #rebecca catalina #fma #fmab #havoc x rebecca #fullmetal alchemist #fullmetal alchemist: brotherhood #fma:b #fma: brotherhood #havolina fanfic #fma fanfiction #fmab fanfiction #the things of songs

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by-nina · 4 years

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For auld lang syne, my dear (Counterpoint)

AO3 | FFN Part II of For auld lang syne, my dear Rating: T (alcohol, mild language) Genre: Fluff/Romance/Angst Word Count: 2,151

A/N: Part two of For auld lang syne, my dear coming through! This was supposed to be the second part of my FMA Secret Santa work this year. Even though it officially isn’t, it’s still something I wanted to make with the prompts I was given. So here you go and I hope you like this one, @megthemighty! (My first Havolina!)

Happy New Year to you all, and I hope we’re all able to dance our way through better days.

It sometimes seems like it was only yesterday that she heard that old holiday song on a train platform, saying goodbye to a boy who once brightened a few lonely days, hoping for a dance that would never come. On most days, she’s able to bury that moment away like it happened in another life.

It’s New Year’s Eve, and Riza is far from home and the quiet holiday mornings she used to spend alone by the fire. The change is stark before she even reaches Central. Closer and closer to the city, the air grows a little warmer and the sky fades into a duller shade of black, compensated by the brilliant lanterns and ornaments adorning every building. Everything else is a blur from there. A party with more guests than she personally knows, a glass of champagne in hand, a nicer dress than the ones she usually wears on a night out in town.

Riza would be perfectly happy to just sit back and let the night play out around her. She’s here because Rebecca had convinced her to come along, insisting that they try something a little different from the usual year-end festivities in the East. But home is all that Riza looks for the whole night. Thankfully, no one is a happier reminder of it than Rebecca. With all her energy, they may as well be back home, dancing the night away at the town plaza.

Then, they find Lieutenant Havoc by himself at the party, and Riza finally begins to truly have a great time. It’s almost as if she and her two dear friends have got their own little world in the corner of the room. Sometimes she jumps into the conversation, laughing along to inside jokes about their respective hometowns and from their days at the military academy. She’s equally happy just to listen as Rebecca and Havoc get carried away with their thoughts—some oddly specific and similar, others wildly different and conflicting.

“… and what difference does it make if you do it tonight?”

Havoc leans back in his chair smugly, as though he’s certain the argument is over. “Look, everyone gets emotional on New Year’s Eve. It could be good or bad, but when you get carried away, it’s not like it’ll be the same the next morning.”

“Bullshit, you’ll be fine! You’ve been single for, what, a month?”

Riza sets her glass down on a side table. “I’m sorry, what are you two talking about?”

Rebecca rolls her eyes. “Mister Loverboy here thinks that he shouldn’t try and find a girlfriend tonight because it’s New Year’s Eve, and nobody can commit.”

Even Riza, who is far behind the other two in terms of dating experience, fails to grasp the idea. “What?”

Havoc makes a comically scandalized face. “You two are ganging up on me! Hear me out—Hawkeye, as our voice of reason and the most level-headed person in this room—”

“Hey! You don’t get points for flattery, Havoc!”

“—do you think you could find a boyfriend or a girlfriend right here in this party, on New Year’s Eve, while everyone is drunk and emotional and, well, they’ve all got too much on their mind right now, don’t they?”

Rebecca and Havoc watch Riza expectantly as she picks up her glass again, considering the question as she sips the last of her drink. As if it will help her think clearly. “I’ve got good news for you, Havoc,” Riza finally says after a while. “You can definitely find a girlfriend in this party, on New Year’s Eve.”

“See?” Rebecca places a hand on Riza’s shoulder and grins at Havoc. “That’s the voice of reason for you!”

Riza continues, “I think that sometimes, trusting someone enough to be vulnerable around them is a good start. And your relationship shouldn’t just revolve around the first spark, anyway. It’s your choice whether or not you’re going to work on it. If you like someone enough, I don’t see why you wouldn’t want to do that.”

They look at her like she has just read their fortunes.

“Well, well, those are some big words from you, Riza!” Rebecca says. “Do you actually have a boyfriend I don’t know about?”

“You know I don’t, Rebecca. But what point were you trying to make against Havoc, anyway?”

“That if there’s someone he likes, but he won’t do anything about it tonight just because it’s New Year’s Eve, then he’s a coward.”

Havoc grabs at his chest dramatically and hunches forward, exaggerating the look of pain on his face. “Ladies, you’re breaking my heart! All I want is to have a lasting relationship with a good woman! I’m telling you, I’ll treat her like a princess, and every day I’ll tell her how much I love—”

“Her boobs,” Riza and Rebecca say in unison, bored, but with a hint of knowing laughter.

Rebecca reaches forward as Havoc takes out a cigarette from the pack he has been keeping in his coat pocket. She pushes his hand aside and grabs the pack, then tucks it between the cushions of the couch that she and Riza are occupying. “Put that thing away, you’ll never find a good woman smelling like smoke. Let’s dance.”

“What the—”

“Your girlfriend’s not just gonna waltz in and find you here on your ass, Havoc. Dance floor, now. Riza, let’s go!”

Riza waves off the invitation, chuckling. “I’ll be fine here, thanks. You two have fun.”

Rebecca drags Havoc out into the dancing crowd, and Riza sits back contentedly with a newly filled glass of bubbly. She doesn’t know how much time she spends watching her friends under the sparkling lights, their laughter ringing so loudly that it seems to carry over the music and the chatter around the room, but she does notice how they change. The more they dance, the closer they seem to get to each other. They become locked in a gaze, eyes glinting with more than enjoyment. Even the way they move seems to say that they’ve got every part each other memorized.

Time goes by quickly from then on, and suddenly midnight is only a few minutes away. The music changes with Rebecca and Havoc still out on the dance floor; they exchange a look of understanding and recognition. And perhaps it’s because they had grown up with the song as well—or maybe Rebecca and Havoc are so intoxicated now that they are both made entirely of warmth—but Riza senses feelings of comfort and home being communicated between them, all without words. They might have gone back in time to their childhoods, or they might have come up with a world with just the two of them there on the dance floor.

Riza smiles.

How could she have never seen it coming?

Then again, there are many things that Riza never saw coming, like those distant memories that come with the music now filling the room. It sometimes seems like it was only yesterday that she heard that old holiday song on a train platform, saying goodbye to a boy who once brightened a few lonely days, hoping for a dance that would never come.

On most days, Riza is able to bury that moment away like it happened in another life. She can look at the man the boy has become without imagining what might have been or thinking that she might still feel the way she did before. That other life ended in Ishval, and although she has kept the Lieutenant Colonel Roy Mustang in the life she lives now, it has been strictly out of duty. She swore to follow him and protect him; there is nothing more to it. Nothing about a dance, no vestiges of a precious shared past.

But sometimes, she is reminded of the past without warning, like now.

“Hello, Lieutenant.”

Roy Mustang isn’t supposed to be here.

He hadn’t planned on going to any party tonight. It was supposed to be like all the other year-end holidays he has spent in this city. Unpeaceful, a blur of faces both familiar and unfamiliar at Madame Christmas’ bar, the promise of a quieter morning with family once all the festivities were over. But then he ran into Havoc earlier this evening, the latter making his way to this fancy new lounge that had opened at the northeast side of town.

“Come on, Chief,” Havoc had said, “you need to get out more often. It’s New Year’s Eve.”

The invitation wasn’t even an appealing one, at least to Roy. It’s been many years since he last truly enjoyed New Year’s Eve, because throughout these many years he has changed so much. He has been in the military for what feels like a lifetime now, gone to hell and back during the war in Ishval, and he no longer feels the holidays the way he did when he was a young boy. He does remember some things, though, like breakfast made from the leftovers of New Year’s Eve dinner, the market filled with toys and books and rare delicacies, the music.

And her.

Riza hardly looks different from the young girl who saw him board a train for Central many New Year’s Eves ago, but he knows better than anyone that that isn’t true. She’s about as distant from her younger self as he is from his. She’s also easier to imagine back in that time than Roy finds himself to be. At most, he can point out how much longer her hair has grown since that day—it’s not yet past her shoulders, but it frames her face differently. Beautifully.

“Hello, Lieutenant.”

The music has changed to a familiar old tune, and perhaps it’s why he calls her attention without thinking. Roy wishes he hadn’t. She was watching the crowd’s merrymaking just now, with a warm, lovely smile that he had been lucky to see once before. He didn’t mean to make it go away. But when Riza hears his voice, her expression changes, and she rises to her feet so quickly that she almost loses her balance. There is a deep pink hue on her cheeks.

“Lieutenant Colonel.”

He laughs a little. “I’m sorry, that was so formal. It’s New Year’s Eve. Just call me…”

Roy stops himself.

“… Mustang.”

Riza nods slowly, then sits back down. Roy gingerly occupies the spot at the other end of the same couch. They’re silent for a few moments, listening to the holiday song played by the live band from the other side of the room, sung by the crowd in varying degrees of drunkenness.

“You should be dancing too,” Roy finally says. He isn’t sure if he means it as a suggestion or an invitation.

She smiles in a resigned manner, reaching down slightly to rub her ankles. “My feet are aching from these shoes.” Riza pauses. “How about you?”

Roy shakes his head. “I’ve had too much to drink.”

How easily they lie to each other.

Riza resumes watching the crowd, so she doesn’t see Roy watching her as the song plays on, or perhaps she pretends that she doesn’t. He tries not to think of all the reasons they have to deny each other a dance. He takes comfort in the memory of her twirling on the platform of Cameron Station, of singing for her in the living room of her childhood home. And if he’d truly had as much to drink as he claimed he did, he would have abandoned all judgment to take her out to the dance floor, just to have those things again.

For old times’ sake, Roy tells himself.

The spell breaks at the stroke of midnight, when the song ends and jubilant greetings ring out around the room. Roy and Riza return to the present and exchange cordial, if tentative smiles, once again becoming Lieutenant Hawkeye and Lieutenant Colonel Mustang. No complicated past, no uncertain future. Only the present in which they are able to welcome the new year together, if not in the way either of them had hoped.

“Happy New Year,” they tell each other.

Riza hesitates to take Roy’s hand when he offers it. When she finally does, her hand feels rougher than he remembers, her grip turned firm by the mastery of her self-control. He knows she is wary of the lines they cannot cross, even though they’ve been far past that point for much of her lives. But he won’t do that to her. Roy would never offer her something he knows he cannot give. He cares for her far too deeply to do that.

For now, he puts his faith in better, kinder years to come.

#Fullmetal Alchemist #Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood #FMA #FMAB #Royai #Havolina #Roy Mustang #Riza Hawkeye #Rebecca Catalina #Jean Havoc #fanfiction #fanfic #fluff #romance #angst #pining #mutual pining #writing #written by nina

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flyinbanachab · 4 years

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Comfortember 9: Confession

The night was darker than usual, heavy clouds blotting out all trace of moon and stars. Maybe a bit gloomy, but it did give some extra cover to the four cadets drinking on the lakeshore. They sat on a blanket, gathered around a lantern in a loose semicircle, voices obscured by the wind and waves.

"Never have I ever..." Cadet Hawkeye paused to think. She was the most sober in the group by far, but she was being a good sport about it. "Lied about my age."

Read on AO3 or...

"What, never?" Cadet Catalina asked, taking a drink. "You've never told a guy you're older than you actually are."

"Or tried to buy cigarettes? Or beer?" Cadet Havoc asked, having taken a swig himself.

"Or," Cadet Breda, pulling his bottle from his lips, added with a smirk, "enlisted a year early?"

Rebecca turned her attention on him like a spotlight. "You didn’t. You can’t-- are you seriously eighteen? You were FIFTEEN-- ? No way. No-- no WAY."

Breda's smirk only intensified. "Some of us mature faster than others. Jean, go."

"Never have I ever... hmm... accidentally started a fire."

A pause while the other three racked their memories, then Breda took a drink. Riza looked from her beer to Jean and said tentatively, "If I didn't start it myself, but I caused someone else to accidentally start a fire..."

Jean grinned like he’d just snagged the stuffed bear from the claw machine. "Drink, girl! And then tell us the story."

"Yeah! Story time, story time! You never tell us anything!" Rebecca cheered.

Riza sipped at her beer, made a face, and shook her head. "Not tonight."

"Awww," Rebecca pouted.

Breda's turn now. "Never have I ever... been skinny dipping."

Rebecca took a drink, and so did Jean, conspicuously not looking at each other.

Breda laughed. “Why am I not surprised.”

“Night’s young, Red,” Jean said to Breda, gesturing out at the lake. “Wanna go?”

Breda blanched. “Not with you, cowboy.”

Riza hastily added, “Yes, let’s not please. Becca, it’s your turn.”

"Never have I ever..." Rebecca looked down at her bottle, then around the circle. Her closest friends in the academy. Her closest friends, ever. Riza, her roommate, relentlessly driven by some secret she would never share. Breda, the insufferable jackass who'd somehow become one of her favorite people. Jean, ...Jean. Loving and loyal to a fault. He deserved better than a train wreck like her.

The question she was going to pose died on her lips.

"...been scared of deployment," she finished, in a tiny voice. And tipped her head all the way back, draining her bottle.

A moment's hesitation, and three more bottles rose up in turn.

The cadets met each other’s eyes in the dim lantern light. Do they really look like soldiers, ready to fight and die for their country? Or do they look like kids playing pretend, up past their bedtime, afraid of the dark?

The waves lapped the shore, steady and sure. Frogs chirped in the distance.

Jean put his arm around her, and she knew she shouldn’t, but she allowed it. He was strong and familiar and warm. She leaned against him, breathing in cologne and ash. "We'll be okay," he said. "We'll make it. I know we will."

Strong and familiar and naive. Oh, Jean. She knew she shouldn’t, but she rested her head on his shoulder.

Reluctant nods all around. Do they believe it? No, but it would be silly to argue. Riza suggested they call it a night, and the cadets started gathering their things with a collective sense of relief.

Jean kept an arm around her all the way home. She knew she shouldn’t, but she allowed it.

#comfortember #comfortember 2020 #fma fanfiction #Rebecca Catalina #riza hawkeye #Heymans Breda #Jean Havoc #cadet era #my writing #fanfic #havolina #comfort

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eskalations · 4 years

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'Im pregnant'

No one could have imagined the amount of pandemonium that those two words would cause in the office of Brigadier General Mustang.

(Day 1 "Letter" - Royai Week 2020)

A/N: Happy Royai Week! The first prompt was "letter" and let me tell you, I HATE the dreaded letter prompt. So, I decided to have a bit of fun with it. Enjoy some Team Mustang + Royai shenanigans! Let me know what you think if you have the time! (FFN link)

I'm pregnant

The words were written plain as day on the parchment in front of them. Certainly, this is not what they had expected to find in the un-postmarked envelope that had been lying between the boss's office door and Havoc's desk – but alas, here it was. The letter said it all, the Chief was going to be a dad.

Their shocked silence soon diffused into absolute pandemonium.

"Holy shi –"

"No way!" Fuery had his face sandwiched between his hands, panic evident in the shaky tone of his voice. "No way! No way!"

"This sure is gonna put a damper on things!" Breda commented, finding his seat once more. He propped his feet on the desk before leaning back with hands behind his head, a pensive look on his face as he stared up at the ceiling. "I never thought I'd see the day. The boss has sewn his oats and now he's gonna reap the consequences!"

Havoc still stood in disbelief at the middle of the office. "Holy Shi – "

"Is that all you can say?!" Breda cut him off.

"I'm processing!" This finally broke him from his daze, his shaking hands pulling the paper closer to his face, his eyes examining every letter. Breda scoffed at his actions.

"Well the words aren't going to change!"

"I know that! I'm just – I don't know, double checking!"

"Guys," Fuery tried desperately to calm them, wishing now more than ever that Falman hadn't chosen to stay in the North. It would have been nice to have another level head amongst the men in the office. "We really should leave it alone. This is none of our business."

The young communications specialist looked nervously over at the door where the Brigadier General and Captain had taken their leave just an hour before. Their meeting was slated to be over any minute and Fuery preferred not to face the wrath of a newly christened father on this bright Monday morning.

That being said, the young soldier couldn't find it himself to be unhappy with the news they had just received in regards to their superior officer. Ever since 'The Promised Day' two years prior, Brigadier General Mustang had grown stupendously as both a military officer and a man. Fuery imagined he would make an excellent father.

This just left one question – who was the mother?

It seemed like both Breda and Havoc had the same thought as they both stared at each other with wide eyes.

"Man!"

"Oh MAN!"

"Who do you – ?!"

"It could be anyone!"

"I bet its Leslie." The auburn-haired man remarked, pushing back even further in his chair, the legs squeaking in protest. "She's the brunette from Archives that's been finding some reason to come up here at least twice a week."

"She can't be more than twenty! Do you really think the Chief would – ?"

"Well I don't know! It may not even be her!"

"Well, maybe it's Sarah," Breda suggested, now not as sold on the whole Leslie idea as he was before. "She's that petite girl he took to dinner last week. They did look pretty cozy."

Havoc stroked his chin in thought. "Hmmm now that you mention it, they did look close."

"Well you do know what they say about a lady's hormones during pregnancy…"

"Ohohoho," The blonde slapped the other man on the shoulder, a mischievous smirk evident on his features. "That sly dog! Mustang's going to be handing out promotion after promotion these next few months if what I've heard is true!"

Fuery, who had remained silent as they bantered back and forth, suddenly jumped from his chair. Both of the first lieutenants stared at him in shock as he gripped the edge of his desk with sweat building over his brow. There was a moment of heavy silence before the Warrant Officer let his thoughts be known.

"What if it's Hawkeye?"

The only sound that could be heard coming from the room was a soft thud as Breda fell backwards out of his chair. Then – all hell broke loose.

"IT IS! I JUST KNOW IT IS! She's been acting weird all week!" Havoc said, dropping the letter to the ground and gripping his face in an anxious fashion. "What are we going to do?!"

Breda, who was rubbing his head while sat on all fours, answered from beneath the desk. "We're going to be transferred out of East City again and end up somewhere like Briggs."

"I won't survive!" Havoc fell dramatically into his desk chair, throwing his head back in mock agony. "I can't leave my dear Rebecca at a time like this. Her best friend is going to be dishonorably discharged and I have to help pick up the pieces!"

"Guys – " Fuery attempted to interject – but was cut off by Breda, who had finally gotten a grip on the edge of his desk and was lifting himself up off the floor.

"Forget about your precious Catalina!" Breda spit out at his comrade, rubbing his backside for good measure. "We've got other problems! The boss is never going to make Fuhrer if he's kicked out of the military!"

"All that work in Ishval – for nothing!"

"Well, I wouldn't really say it was for nothing. It – "

"The country is doomed without it's fearless leader!"

"Okay, now you're just being dramat – "

"I need a cigarette!"

"I knew it!" Breda stomped over to his friend's desk, swiping the container from between his sweaty palms. There was a look of warning in his dark eyes. "Don't use the General's problems as a reason to pick up smoking again. It's not like YOU'RE the one having the baby, so I think you can manage!"

"Manage what?"

Several things happened at once at the sound of their Commanding Officer's voice breaking through the chaos. Fuery, who out of sheer panic, had sat back down once his revelation was brought forth – sprung up like a spring and lifted his shaking hand to his forehead in a poor salute. Breda, on the other hand, dropped the cigarettes like they were on fire and backed several feet away from his friend's desk, giving his boss a salute only marginally better than Fuery's.

Havoc took longer to respond. He stared at the door of the office where the man stood for several seconds, stunned silent. Then, he allowed his eyes to drift down to the letter that had been dropped in the middle of the room.

Oh shi –

"Havoc?" General Mustang asked curiously, stepping fully into the office. There was a set of meeting briefs tucked under his arm, signaling that his work for the morning had concluded. "What's going on?"

The man couldn't even begin to think of an answer for his dark-haired superior. All he knew was that his eyes kept darting to that damn paper that lay still in the dead center of the room. Oh, why did he have to be so obvious?

Noticing his subordinate's strange behavior, as well as the nervous energy that seemed to be sitting heavy over the office, the General made to step forward and address the men once more when something caught his eye.

It was a letter.

On the floor, there was a piece of parchment sticking out of a crudely ripped envelope. From the nervous glances First Lieutenant Havoc was making towards it, the General assumed that had to be the reason for the strange behavior that seemed to be plaguing his subordinates. Before he could reach down and pick it up though, Breda's hand snatched it out from under him.

"Wha – ?"

"Sorry, Chief," Breda apologized, hiding the letter behind his back. "I don't think you're ready to see what's on it."

The way his tone wavered with a hint of fear had the General's blood running cold. There was very little that could discompose Heymans Breda. This must be serious.

"What's going on?" The man placed the meeting briefs on his Captain's desk before turning back to his men. With arms crossed, he stared them down with a deadly set of black eyes. "As your Commanding Officer, I demand you tell me."

There was a silent moment where the three soldiers exchanged glances, urging the other to talk first. After a series of wide-eyed communications, both Fuery and Breda raised their brows at Havoc who was still seated at his desk. The man gulped, a sweat breaking out under his military blues. Oh, why did it have to be him.

"Well," Havoc cleared his throat, willing the words forward. "You see, we found this letter – and well, uhhhh – it has some interesting intel on it."

It was Mustang's turn to raise his brows – though his expression was a touch more doubtful than the others. "Oh really? It's just intel?"

"Well I wouldn't say it's JUST intel," Havoc scratched his blonde mane, searching for the right words. "It's relatively important intel."

"If it's so important," Mustang reasoned, taking a step towards his very nervous comrade. "Then I think I should be told, post-haste."

"See you say that, but I don't thi – "

"Havoc! Just come out with it!"

"You're going to be a father, sir!"

Breda and Havoc turned in disbelief towards the shaky Warrant Office who still stood with his hand to his head. Though his words came out as little more than a squeak, they still had been heard by all – including the Brigadier General.

Roy Mustang stood in shock, starring at the young man who stood quivering in his boots at his desk. Surely, he had heard him wrong?

"Come again, Fuery?" He asked for clarification, the tone of his voice giving no indication as to what he was feeling. "I don't think I heard you right."

"The letter, sir." Fuery dropped his hand from his head, pointing towards Breda. "It's in the letter."

Still shocked at the fact that the meek officer had been the one to speak up, Breda wordlessly held out the piece of paper for his Commanding Officer to read. He barely reacted as the letter was swiped quite harshly from his fingers.

They all watched anxiously as the man read over the note – his face becoming paler and paler the longer he stared at it. After a few minutes of examination, his dark eyes came up to meet his comrades' in utter confusion.

"Where did – Just where did you get this?"

"It was on the floor between your door and my desk, sir," Havoc finally spoke up. The blonde stood and walked over to the General, clapping a hand on his shoulder. "I guess congratulations are in order."

"Now, wait a sec – "

"And you don't have anything to worry about," Havoc continued, squeezing the man's shoulder in what was supposed to be a show of support. "We will support you and Hawkeye no matter what happens from here on out!"

"Yeah! The Fraternization Laws be damned, we're here for you!"

"Even if I have to freeze my ass off at Briggs," Havoc gave his shoulder one last squeeze for good measure. "It'll be worth it to see the two of you together and happy."

"That's not what you were saying earlier…"

"Can it, Breda!"

Mustang remained silent at the attempts of congratulations, feeling as though his lungs had been robbed of air. He didn't even notice a timid Fuery walk up and stick out his hand for a shake.

"I hope you and the Captain will be very happy, sir." The Warrant Officer said softly, the genuine respect he felt for the two superior officers evident in the tone of his words. "I can't think of two people who deserve this kind of happiness more. You'll make excellent parents."

It took a moment, but finally Mustang was able to break his silence.

"Now wait just a damn minute!"

All the men froze once more as the General took a step back to regard them with a sharp look. If he had been wearing his ignition gloves in that moment, he would have cut quite an intimidating figure. Even as it was, the dark look on his features had the men swallowing hard and standing straight underneath his steadfast gaze.

"I don't know where you got the idea that Hawkeye and I had suddenly decided to procreate." He gestured wildly to the air, incredulity written all over his features. "But I can assure you that this letter was not meant for me!"

"Sir, you don't have to hide it." Havoc reasoned gently, his hands coming forward in a show of acceptance. "We know that this will change a lot of things – but maybe it's not as bad as it seems –"

"I don't know – being dishonorably discharged DOES sound pretty bad…"

"Breda" Havoc seethed, the name slipping from between his teeth in a hiss. "Not the time."

"Both of you – stop," The sharp quality of Mustang's voice had them both pausing, readjusting their posture once more. "I'm not hiding anything. This letter cannot belong to me."

"Boss, we under – "

"Breda," The General warned, cutting the man off. He held a hand up, leaving no room for argument. "Don't finish that sentence. The more we speak of this, the more likely it is that rumors will come from it. I don't want the Captain returning from her lunch break to find that her fellow officers have been slandering her name."

"But she's been acting weird, Chief," Havoc remarked, trying to get Mustang to accept that this was a genuine possibility. "We know that the two of you have always been close. We've known for a long time that something more was there."

"Havoc!" The General bellowed. His reaction was so violent that Havoc found himself taking a few steps back in fear. "What part of 'stop' do you not understand?!"

The men were silent as Mustang read the note again. His dark eyes took in the words once more before he looked up at his men in disbelief.

"You are a poor set of soldiers if you haven't realized by now that this is not the Captain's handwriting."

Those words had the men crowding around their commanding officer. Mustang tried his best not to look indignant as they bumped shoulders with him in an attempt to get a better look at the paper he still held in his hands.

"Hm I guess it's not." Fuery conceded, having seen the Captain's handwriting on many documents during his time as being a part of the unit.

"That little loopy right there kind of looks familiar," Havoc countered, squinting his eyes. "I don't think it's completely out of the realm of possibility."

"That is definitely not the Captain's handwriting, Jean," Breda shook his head, disappointed in himself for not noticing it sooner. "Talk about jumping to conclusions."

"But if this wasn't meant for the boss then who – ?"

"What's going on?"

As if they had been electrocuted, each of the men jumped away from the other. While three of them automatically fell into nervous salutes, their commanding officer stood with a smirk in the middle of them.

"Ah, Captain," The General drawled in his usual fashion, gesturing towards their subordinates. "Maybe you can reestablish some sense of order back into this group."

Riza Hawkeye furrowed her brow at the comment, looking at all their faces with rising suspicion. The blonde wasn't alone though – while Hayate sat obediently at her heels, a second figure popped out from behind her. Rebecca Catalina considered the room with more than just a little curiosity.

"Jean?" The brunette asked, stepping around her friend. Blatantly ignoring the tension in the room, she made her way to the man in question. "Why do you look so pale?"

Havoc let out a short laugh at his girlfriend's question. "Well, Becky – it's been a long morning!"

Distracted as he was by the girl's presence, he didn't notice the smirk on Hawkeye's face as she drew nearer, placing a set of folders down on her desk. Out of the corner of her eye, she shared a look with General Mustang before sitting down in her chair and grabbing a pen.

At Havoc's words, Rebecca's eyes lit up. "So you got my letter?"

Havoc shook his head, feeling as though he had misheard. "Uh, no? What letter?"

Rebecca's eyes cut to the paper that now resided in Mustang's hand, looking between it and her boyfriend. There was confusion in the crease that appeared between her brows. "The one that your General is holding…I had Riza leave it on your desk this morning. You read it, right?"

If Jean Havoc didn't know any better, he would have thought that his legs were paralyzed once more. Behind his glasses, Fuery's eyes widened with shock while Breda looked an awful lot like a goldfish.

"Huh?" The word was the only one Havoc felt capable of saying. Not noticing his clammy skin and the slight tinge of green on his features, Rebecca gave him a bright smile.

"I got the idea from an article in The Amestrian Woman Magazine!" She brought her fisted hands to her chest in an excited fashion. "I thought it would be fun to tell you in a non-traditional fashion since we'll be bringing a baby into this world in a pretty non-traditional fashion ourselves!"

Jean felt like his world was spinning. Mustang clapped a hand on his shoulder, bringing him back to reality. The grin on the man's face was proof enough that he had been privy to the secret from the beginning. The bastard.

"I guess congratulations are in order! You're going to be a father, Havoc!"

Later that day, Roy Mustang could be found lounging on the single couch of his living room. Despite having had his townhome for two years now, the amount of furniture in his house was still minimal due to the large amount of time spent away in Ishval. Regardless, it still felt more home-y than any residence of his had felt in years.

Roy looked up as Riza rounded the corner, coming directly from the kitchen with two steaming mugs of tea in her hands. The blonde hair that she had cut short upon their return to Ishval was just now beginning to reach below her shoulders again and the General could find himself smiling fondly at the sight. With a modest sweater and long skirt, she looked the absolute picture of domestic bliss.

He took the mug gratefully as she perched on the couch beside him, drawing her legs up beside her. Without any hesitation, the man wrapped a familiar arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer. The woman obliged him, snuggling comfortably into his side.

They sat in silence for a few moments – simply enjoying the fire before them and soaking up the other's presence. However, Mustang's chuckle soon broke whatever mood appeared to be in the air.

"What?" Riza asked as she glanced up at him, noting the hint of mirth that danced behind his eyes. The smile had not yet left his features. "Feel like sharing?"

"I was just thinking about Havoc," The man answered honestly, squeezing her shoulders gently. "Of all the ways, I thought he was going to react – fainting was not one of them."

"His legs have been weak ever since his injury, so I'm not surprised."

"Sure…that's what it was," Mustang's mouth grew into an even larger grin. "To think, the bastard was trying so hard to get me to confess to some kind of illicit affair. When he handed me the note and then accused me of impregnating you, I almost felt my heart drop into my stomach. That whole surprise couldn't have gone any worse."

"It's not my fault that the envelope slipped off his desk." Riza took a sip of her tea, the steam dispersing as she breathed a tired sigh through her nose. "I told Rebecca it wasn't a good idea, but that's how she wanted to do it."

"I couldn't help but think," The General spoke, a smirk curling on his features. He waited for her to set her cup down before moving in for the kill. "How would you tell me if we were in the same kind of situation."

"Sir – "

"I know, Riza." He looked at her with eyes that still held all the mirth from before, but that were now tinged with sadness. It made the sniper's heart ache. "I know that it can't be like that for us, at least not now anyways – but, if it could be, what would you do?"

The woman thought about it for a moment, staring down at the mug on the table in front of her. The question brought forth a lot of emotions that she didn't feel like sorting through on a night like this, but the earnest look in her General's eyes made it impossible not to answer his question.

"I would probably tell you before I even found out for sure," She answered honestly, turning her amber gaze back to his own. "I don't think I could keep something like that to myself. I couldn't even keep Rebecca's pregnancy a secret from you. I would be so anxious; I'd probably make you go to the doctor with me."

Roy gave her a gentle smile, satisfied with the answer.

"I don't think I could ever willingly bring a child into this world though knowing what I have done," Riza continued quietly, effectively wiping the grin off his face. She regarded him with a dark look. "After taking the lives of children, how could I ever think I deserve to have one?"

The General didn't know what to say to that. Up until now, it wasn't even a question that he had taken the time to ponder. Until the romantic nature of their companionship had come forward, he had been content to remain a bachelor for the rest of his existence. But things had changed and now he didn't really know what to think.

Their relationship had blossomed steadily since 'The Promised Day.' Though there had always been a romantic undertone in the way they interacted with the other, it was much too strong to ignore after they almost lost each other. The Fraternization Laws were still in order, and though, Mustang had it on good authority that Grumman was going to try and abolish them, it didn't change the fact that – what they had right now – was still illegal.

They had been so careful. They only met once a week in one or the other's home and even then, they covered their tracks dutifully. They still had way too much to accomplish to allow an illicit relationship to rip it from their grasp.

Though they both understood the parameters of their relationship, it was not as easy as they had thought it would be to watch their friends openly declare their love for each other and start a family. Despite knowing that she didn't deserve it, Riza couldn't stamp down the ache that resided in her heart at the thought of a small child – half her, half Roy.

By the pained look on his face, she could tell her General felt much the same way.

"Once I'm Fuhrer," Roy cleared his throat, his voice wrought with conviction. At this point, it was a given that he would reach the top. Grumman had told them in no uncertain terms that Mustang was his first choice as a predecessor. Instead of speaking the words with hope, he spoke them now with confidence. "You'll be able to stand by my side, rather than behind me. When that day comes, we will leave it up to fate whether we deserve the simple pleasures of life or not."

The words were much the same as the ones he had said after Grumman's pardoning of them. Though they had been adamant that they wished to be tried for war crimes, both Grumman and the Ishvalan elders had agreed that their rebuilding efforts were enough to clear their names from the death sentence that surely would have hung over their heads otherwise. The only thing that was being asked of them was that they continue to dedicate themselves to Ishval for the rest of their days – a penance that they could very easily accept.

'We've lost too many in the ranks from the fall of Bradley,' Grumman had said, recognizing their looks of disbelief at such a light sentence. 'You two would do more good out leading the efforts to rebuild, than rotting away in some cell below ground. That is one thing the elders and I are in agreeance of.'

Although on paper they had both been forgiven of their sins, it was going to take a little longer for them to fully forgive themselves.

Riza hummed in agreeance – though he could still sense the doubt in her posture.

They sat in silence – satisfied to simply enjoy the presence of the other. These moments were still rare, so they always tried to enjoy them as much as they could.

"It would be nice." Riza said quietly, her eyes never leaving the fire before them.

Roy smiled.

"Yeah, it would be."

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aquietwritingcorner · 4 years

Text

Moms Made Fullmetal 2020 Day 5

Word Count: 2263 Author: Katie/Ally; RealityBreakGirl Rating: G Characters: Jean Havoc, Mama Havoc (Marie Havoc), Dad Havoc (Thomas Havoc) Rebecca Catalina Prompt: Advice/Comfort/Bed-Time Story Summary: Marie Havoc does a little reflecting on her boy Jean and the many trials and tribulations of his love life.

Advice/Comfort/Bed-Time Story

When her boy was young he had thrived on bedtime stories. Jean would bound into bed, bouncing on it as he scrambled under the covers begging Marie to read him bedtime stories. He loved the adventure stories, the ones with the gallant heroes that saved the day, or worked with other good men to save the day, and in the end they got the girl, their true love. His eyes would shine at the idea of this perfect life, and he would swear to always protect her and his sisters. He had taken those stories to heart and worked hard to live up to those stories, trying to do the right thing, trying to work hard to help his family, and always being kind to and protecting the girls around him, and anyone who seemed weaker.

Honestly, it was enough to make a mama proud, with how hard her son tried to live like the gallant heroes he read about, and slowly those characteristics became part of him. By the time 7he started school, he was already a little charmer, always ready to help out whoever needed it, especially women and girls. He played rough and tumble with the other boys, of course, but he wasn’t afraid to trounce one (or be trounced himself) if he thought that he was doing the right thing.

But these stories had also made her poor son a romantic at heart, and that had led to heartbreak for him more than once over the years, with a few incidents standing out more then others amid all the crushes and broken hearts.

This first time her son had come home with a crush on a girl (and not his teacher), he hadn’t even realized that was what it was. Maria and Thomas had exchanged glances, knowing that was what was going on. He was seven, she was cute thing in his class, and he was always showing out around her, more so then he did for all the other girls. But it had backfired on him, the little girl turning up her nose at him, and being more interested in another little boy. That boy and Jean had gotten into a fight one day and Marie had needed to come to the school to pick him up. When she had asked him why he had gotten into a fight, he genuinely didn’t know why just that “he was getting’ on my nerves and made me so angry the way he was hangin’ ‘round Sophia!”

He may not have realized why it made him so angry, but she did, and it wasn’t the last time her Jean-Bean would find himself upset over girls.

When the hormones hit, and romanced bloomed in his heart more then before, there had been a line of crushes and minor heart breaks for a mama to fix. It was amazing what a slice (or three) of pie and some hot chocolate or cider could do to mend a boy’s heart. But crushes don’t last forever, and at some point she knew he’d experience his first true love. She just hoped that it really would be true love.

When he was fifteen it happened. He was convinced that he was in love. And honestly? Marie couldn’t say that he wasn’t. He and the girl, young Wilhelmina were sweethearts in school. They spent a few months flirting, and a year dating. He was head over heels, and absolutely smitten. As far as he was concerned, she hung the moon, and he devoted most of his free time and money towards her. He did his best to treat her right, even sacrificing some of the things he loved and he wanted to do just for her. He treated her like a queen, and Marie wouldn’t have been the least bit surprised if he asked her to marry him when they were a bit older.

As for Wilhelmina, Marie wasn’t as sure about her. Something about that girl seemed off, especially as they grew a little older and started to look more towards their futures.

And then, when he was sixteen, she broke it off with him, and his heart was shattered. Marie couldn’t say that she was surprised. But it hurt Marie to see her son so broken up. He cried for the first time in years, although he tried hard not to. Marie could see through it, though, and she knew. A mother always does.

“Why, mom?” he had said to her one night, a tremble in his deepening voice. “Why would she do that to me?”

“Oh, Jean-bean, I don’t know,” she said. “Some girls, they just like playing with boys’ hearts. And sometimes, no matter how much you wish it, it just isn’t to be. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“That’s not how it feels. I worked hard, Ma. I got her pretty things and I loved her, and I said if she’d just wait until graduation I’d marry her and then we could get jobs, and I’d work hard to get her what she wanted. But she just—she threw it all back in my face! She said it was too much and I was overbearin’ and—and--” His voice choked up, and Marie’s heart broke for him.

“There’s one out there for you, Jean, one much better than Wilhelmina. One that’ll appreciate you and all you do for her. You’ll meet her when the time is right.”

She had done her best to comfort him, but there was only so much to be done for a broken heart, even for a mother. He threw himself into working hard at the store, into hunting and fishing, into taking care of his brothers and sisters and cousins, into target practice. He dated around a little, trying to get over Wilhelmina, but nothing ever seemed to stick. He just seemed to mire down deeper in his ache, especially when he saw Wilhelmina dating other boys. And Marie noticed, for the first time, that his adventure stories on his shelves went untouched.

It worried her. They had always been so much a part of him. What would he do, if he lost faith in them?

But when a soldier came to talk to his class about joining the military, it was like when he had heard those bedtime stories as a child. He latched onto the idea of helping his country, protecting innocent people, and, of course, of getting the girl. He was such a romantic, her son.

And while she was encouraged that he had found something to live for again, she still worried. She especially worried when he sat down one day to talk to them about joining up after graduation.

“Are you sure, Jean? War is a dangerous place.”

“I’m sure, Ma,” he said, all of seventeen years old, and yet sounding confident. “It’s a great opportunity. I can travel the country, help people—all the things I’ve always wanted to do.”

“Your mother has a point, son,” Thomas said. “Those things are all well and good, but you can’t forget that it is the military. You will be called on to fight, and there are consequences to that.”

Jean frowned. “Yeah, I know that. I’ve heard Uncle Gregor and Uncle Darren talk about it. And some of the other men. And I’ve seen Old Man Muke’s leg.” His face turned serious, and Marie felt her heart ache. Where had her little boy gone? “But I think this is what’s best for me. I—I’m stuck here. Not that I don’t want to be here or love y’all or think you’re holdin’ me down or anything. I just… I just need to go for a while. I think it’ll be good for me. I think it’s what I need.”

Marie understood what he was saying, but every part of her wanted to keep him here with here. Thomas, though, nodded as if he understood, and she supposed that maybe he did. Even she had to admit that it was hard to get over your first love when you saw her practically every day and then saw her getting courted. They agreed, and it was like someone had lit his spark again.

As soon as he graduated from school, he was shipping out for the military. Marie had to admit, it seemed to be a good fit for him. He was thriving and, even though she had worried at first about all the girls he wrote home about, it seemed that her Jean was still a romantic, and still looking for love and not a quick fling. (Although she was sure he was having those too and stars help him if he got a girl pregnant). He was enthusiastic about his career, and he wrote her often about his work, the people he worked with, his friends, and the girls.

She had thought, at one time, that he had brought a girl home, one that he worked with. Marie had remembered her name from some of the letters he had sent her when he was at the academy, and she had turned into a lovely woman. She was quiet, but not meek by any turn of the word. Strong, capable, kind, polite, and very pretty too, with her short blonde hair. She was nothing like the women that he had gravitated towards before, ones that needed protecting and wanted to be fawned over. Marie thought that it would be a good match. But it was clear that she was in love with someone else, deeply so, and Marie had reluctantly let that go, no matter how much of a good match she thought it might have been.

The worst of his heartbreaks had come during the worst time of his life, and Marie knew that the two were entangled together. His paralysis and return home had been hard. It had been a huge hit to her son’s self-esteem and self-worth, leaving him in a depression no matter how much he tried to act as if it didn’t. When he told her that the woman he was dating had a part in injuring him, had used him to draw his team in, it explained why the whole situation had hit him so hard. Her heart had broken for her Jean, and she had feared that this last woman had not only taken his legs from him but had taken her boy’s romantic heart from him as well. He was no longer interested in talking up the pretty women who came in the store, although he was as chivalrous and polite as ever. But there was something in it that was gone.

A mother could only do so much. His heart heal on his own, if it ever would, and she feared that it wouldn’t.

Fortunately, it did, but it didn’t heal in the same way as before. Jean had always fallen in love hard and fast. That was just how her son’s heart had worked, and she had come to expect that. But as he sent her letters when he went back to Central for treatment, she began to notice how different they were. He no longer prattled on about this girl or that girl, but instead seemed be focus in on his worth, and the health and safety of his teammates. A few girls that weren’t related to work would show up here and there, but he never had much to say about them. If any girls were mentioned, it was either in a work for friendly context, although slowly, a name or two started to pop up a bit more than the others.

When Jean wrote to say that he was coming home for some leave, one day, and had someone he wanted to bring with him, well, her heart sored. Marie was more than happy to get to know this young woman whose name had come up again and again in her son’s letters. She had met her briefly before, but she hadn’t had the chance to get to know her. This time would be different. Rebecca Catalina was a dark-haired beauty, confident, and could stand toe to toe with anyone she came across. She was loud, fiery, and teased, and made no apologies for being who she was. She was the exact opposite of the type of women that Jean had chased after before.

She was everything she thought her son needed. He didn’t need a wilting flower or someone who needed to be rescued. He needed someone who could stand with him. He needed someone who could keep him on his toes. He needed someone could match him. This woman fit all of this and better than anyone else Marie had seen. And it was clear that she and Jean adored each other just by watching the way they instinctively gravitated towards each other. The family welcomed Rebecca in gladly, and she slid right in as if she had always belonged.

And Marie’s heart soared to see it.

“Hey, Ma?”

“Yes, son?” She paused in washing her dishes, and turned to look at Jean, who was fidgeting slightly, a habit he’d had since boyhood. Thomas, who was in the kitchen as well, looked up from his newspaper.

“Can I ask you and dad for some advice?”

She exchanged a look with Thomas. “Of course you can. Anytime.”

“…How do you propose to a girl?”

Marie couldn’t help the wide grin that spread on her face. It seemed that her son had finally found the true love of his story.

#moms-made-fullmetal-2020 #fullmetal alchemist #fma fanfic #fma fanfiction #Jean Havoc #Mama Havoc #Rebecca Catalina #Havolina

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snowdog49 · 5 years

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Backseat Riders

For a good friend: @tomoehawkeye and you request for some good ol’ Havolina. Enjoy!

“Hey, this is where they told us to meet them.”

“And they are not here.”

The blond man frowned as he blew tobacco smoke out the thin slot of the window. His dark blue eyes scanned the dark road. The only light was the redbud of his cigarette. The cool summer night kept the inside of the car at least tolerable. If it’d been four hours earlier, the hot air would have them sweating uncomfortably. The dark-haired beauty next to him leaned back in her seat, crossing her arms. They had been sitting there for over an hour, waiting for a patrol of the Military Police to stroll by. He looked at his watch. “The patrol is almost forty minutes late,” he grumbled.

“That’s because we are in the wrong spot,” she sneered. “For God’s sake, Jean, can you put out the cigarette?”

He shot a look towards his companion before flicking it out the window. “Colonel is going to ream me a new one if this goes south. The least I can do is smoke.”

“I’m going to ring you a new one if you light another.” Her gaze turned to Jean. “Who do you fear more? Me right here right now, or your Colonel Mustang later?”

Jean rolled his eyes, tapping his finger on the steering wheel to a tune in his head. He wasn’t going to ruin his dignity by admitting his fear of Rebecca. She pulled her hair back, tying it off before leaning her head on her elbow to look out the window. Silence filled the car as the darkness seeped down the street. The time on his watch said fifteen till one in the morning, or zero-forty-five if you were to ask them. She reached into the backseat to grab a water bottle, sipping it lightly before handing it to Jean who gulped it in an undignified manner. “Do you have a civilized bone in your body,” she asked as he handed the bottle back to her.

“I don’t know.” He grinned towards her. “I thought you liked it rough.”

Rebecca laughed loudly. “Rough is different from uncivilized.”

“What we did last week was definitely uncivilized.”

“Jean,” she snapped quietly.

He snickered, reaching for his smokes from his pocket. He went to pull one out before grumping and tossing them onto the dash. She was growing to be a pain in his ass. It was a wonder how they both got assigned to the same car. Lieutenant Hawkeye generally made a point to ride with Rebecca if she had the chance. A sneaking thought filtered into Jean’s brain, making him smile. “Funny thing,” he turned his head to Rebecca who continued to look out the window. “I sure wonder why Colonel and Hawkeye were so adamant about being together.”

“Oh, come on,” Rebecca snorted. “You know why.” She turned with a mischievous smile.

“Normally they don’t,” Jean rolled his shoulders. “They are so insistent on being apart that it becomes obvious they want to avoid any insinuations.” He chuckled lowly, the crack of his grin never faltering. “What do you want to be that this whole idea of sending us to the wrong street was to give them the same privacy.”

Rebecca hummed, biting the corner of her lip. She pulled up the window, turning the dials to ensure they were on the right channel and the volume was up. “We shouldn’t be out of range. Maybe they called it off and didn’t tell us.”

“You’re being nieve. They are in that hotel room, overlooking the correct street, fucking like rabbits.”

Rebecca laughed, covering her mouth. “I’d like to argue it, but I can’t.” Her brown eyes looked fondly to her partner. “I’ve seen the way she looks at him.”

“You should see how he pouts when she’s not in the office,” Jean quickly added. His side grin returned as he looked towards her. “Don’t you think about me the same way?” Rebecca didn’t respond right away, giving Jean exactly the insulation that he needed. His chest puffed out just a little and his fingers tapped the steering wheel again. “I think about you like that.”

Rebecca refused to look at him. He was certain that if he could see her reflection in the window, he would see her blush.

“Except we’re not so illegal,” he whispered. “I’m surprised you haven’t called me more often.”

“Call you?” She laughed. “Ha! You’re the one that comes begging to my office.”

“I don’t beg,” he huffed. “I just come by to see how you are.”

She turned to raise an eyebrow at him. “Leaning against my table telling me that you have an awesome night planned for us, with pizza at the end isn’t begging?”

He pouted. “You didn’t say no.” He waved his hand between the two of them, dismissing the accusation. “I’m the best thing that is happening to you.”

“We’re on a mission, Jean.”

Jean reached for his cigarettes, pulling one out. He lit it with his lighter, taking a deep breath in, blowing it out through the slot on the window. “I don’t think that this is happening,” he grumped. “We should just head back to the office.”

Rebecca hummed as she looked around, seeing two gentlemen cross the street ahead of her.

“Oh, come on,” he laughed, turning towards her. “You have to say that I’m at least the best kisser that you’ve ever had.”

She dropped her head into her hand with a laugh. “I’d put you in the upper-middle bracket,” she said, pulling her head up from her hands.

Jean’s mouth dropped open from shock, his cigarette hanging loosely from his lips. “Not on the top? What am I doing wrong?”

“It’s not what you’re doing wrong, it’s what the others are doing right.”

Jean shut his mouth and blinked out the window. His hand held his chest as he whined in a pout.

“Don’t blame yourself.” Rebecca giggled. “Some are just … better kissers.”

He leaned towards her but didn’t look at her. “Do you have a scale of kisses?”

She didn’t answer with words, only a giggle.

“I don’t believe you,” he called her out. “I think you’re just teasing me.”

She tilted her head towards his. “To be fair,” she whispered. “The list isn’t that long.”

His head turned towards her. With a foot firmly on the floor, he shot towards her, his lips conquering hers. Rebecca should have been surprised, but she wasn’t. Her hands shot out to grasp his head, holding him by the jawline. His body moved quickly as it rolled from his seat and on top of her. Jean’s hand reaching for the seat to hoist himself out of his own. Her hands slipped to grasp the collar of his uniform. She pulled him against her, biting his bottom lip as he pulled back.

“That’s not the best that you’ve ever had?” His chest rose and fell heavily, his body raging as he hovered half over her. “Every kiss with you is the best I’ve ever imagined.”

In the next moment, her hands flattened on his collarbone and pressed upward. Jean sat up and off her, tilting his weight towards the back of the car. Rebecca whipped her body around pressing him between the two seats and into the back. He let her. He was quick to maneuver his body under hers and they slid into the back of the car. Their lips reaching out towards each other as Jean fell back and his hands desperately reached for the seat to steady on. Rebecca followed suit, more steady with her positioning. He shuffled his way under her as their lips pressed madly against one another. It was rough, clashing of teeth and tongue. He tried to fight back, tried to assert his own dominance, however, Rebecca wouldn’t have any of it. Jean would have liked to say that was fighting hard, but instead, a grin appeared beneath her lips.

“How’s this for liking you,” she grumbled. She sat up as she grabbed his belt.

“Needy,” he said as he raised an eyebrow. He kept his hands from hers, watching her steady hands undo his belt. “It’s only been one week. All that coming to your office and saying ‘hi’ really did a number on ya, huh Catalina?”

She laughed, opening his belt and flipping his button open. “More like I’ve been wanting this since they said we’d be in the same car.”

“I would not have complained.” He lifted his hips so she could slide his pants down.

“There’s something called professionalism.” She giggled. “Going bare today?”

“Didn’t do laundry yesterday,” he snickered, flexing his dick.

Her fingers trailed from his base to his tip. “Lucky me.”

She sat up as far as she could, pulling her own pants off and wiggling out of her underwear. As clumsy and sporadic as it looked, Jean thought it was amazingly sexy. She slid her pants off, taking her panties off after. He raised his eyebrows, growling lowly. Her fingers trailing in slow motion as they descended her hip and stripped her bare. With one leg off the back seat, he lifted his hips up, hoping to entice her to mount him. Rebecca laughed, throwing her purple panties at his face. It was worth a try. Rebecca was running her own game, Jean was merely there to ride which he was more than eager to get on. It was a roller coaster of a lifetime.

They laid down on the seat with the limited room, Rebecca awkwardly maneuvered around so that his mouth could envelop her sweet pussy. His hands grabbed her hips, pulling her closer to him so that lip tongue could lap her delicious juices. In the next second, he groaned, feeling her lips tighten around the base of his cock and sucked tightly. It felt amazing as her tongue massaged his tip and massaged him with pressure. It didn’t go without saying that Rebecca wasn’t relishing in Jean’s own work as she took him deep and moaned heavily against him His fingers tightened on her hips, gripping her ass as she reached up to tug his balls from him.

They both had mapped out a list of pleasure for each other. He knew that sticking his tongue into her, swirling it as his lips sealed against her, sent her legs quivering. In all the while, Rebecca knew the exact leverage he needed, leaning him back and sucking in forward, teetered him on the edge. She knew that it’d only take a few times till he’d be begging for her to stop or she’d ruin the fun. He sucked on her labia, slurping as his head dropped back. “Yes,” he groaned deep within.

“Don’t stop,” she ordered with a tug of his scrotum.

“Yes, ma’am!”

Their legs and arms struggled to remain on the seat as they drowned themselves in the act of getting the other on the cliff’s edge of euphoria. It was a game they played, a dangerous game which left at least one of them helpless to the other. Jean was starting to feel it. It’d been one week too long and the visits did a number on him. There was nothing like seeing her and not being able to touch. He always liked what he could see but not touch. Jean’s body raged inside, a growing fire in his groin as his head fell back with a deep gasp. Rebecca giggled as she took him in deeper. It felt as if she was sucking it out of him. He raised his head, licking her from her entrance to her hardened clit before his head fell back again.

“Damn it, Becca,” he grunted.

She pushed herself up and off him, letting him pull her onto his face again, lapping up her as if he was dying of thirst. Her hands reached up, pressing aggressively into the roof of the car to steady herself. She shook as she fought the urge to grind against him. It was overwhelming with her heart pounding out of her chest and her mouth-watering. But she needed him inside her. He was the key to her locket and it was begging to be opened. More shuffling included an outstretched hand to get a condom and with Jean laughing too loud and the car swaying too easily. Jean found himself on top. Both of them wished there was more room to maneuver, but after a grunt and a grumble, Becca’s legs wrapped firmly around his waist. One hand by her head, the other on the door, Jean pressed himself off the car’s floorboard.

Rebecca’s hands slapped his shoulder and she muffled a scream into his neck. Jean didn’t have anything to muffle his groans. He slid as far as he could into her, slowly feeling her tightly around his length. He didn’t want to rush it, he wanted to savor each moment that was given. “Quit teasing me,” she moaned. Her legs tightened around him in hopes of getting him to stay deeper in her, but he only pulled her up with him instead.

“You think that I’m just getting my kicks out for fun?” He grinned, leaned down to kiss her. She received him fully, sealing with a violent sucking. Her hips lifted to greet him as he slid smoothly back into her. She stretched as he slid deep, pressing nearly to her cervix, igniting every nerve. With the hands migrated to his sides, her nails bit into him. “That’s right,” he moaned. “That’s it!”

Rebecca never understood how Jean ever had problems dating. He’d always been a gentleman with a great smile, who opened doors and bought flowers. He may not always make great conversation and smoked, but God damn he was a generous person! And when they had retreated to a secluded and dark spot, he never let her down. Her eyes squeezed shut and she whined his name, keeping in mind they weren’t in a place she could scream out. But, oh, how she wanted to! Her body tensed and relaxed at the same time, an electrical shock fizzing throughout. It wasn’t until her hands tightened at their peak into his ribs, reaching for his back, did he release himself. The tightness of her was unbearable. His abs tightened, his body contracting to achieve the deepest penetration. Her fingers slipped against the sweat on his back and his lips kissed up the salty droplets on her neck. As he continued to thrust deeper into her, his body ached for a break.

“That was definitely on the upper part of the scale,” Rebecca breathed as her pulled out and sat up in the crunched space.

“Are you fucking serious,” Jean let his jaw fall open.

“On the upper part of the upper segment.” She raised her hand and waved it as if she was showing a level.

“You’re killing me inside Becca.”

“What?” She reached back, using the door to pull herself up. “Scoring a nine for car sex is not appropriate for you?”

He snickered, reaching for his pants. Tossing her underwear back to her, Jean took the condom off and tied it off. “Chief is going to lose his shit that we weren’t at the right spot.”

“I’m starting to believe that you got lost on purpose.” She raised her eyebrow, watching Jean slide into the front and slip his pants on.

As she fixed herself up, he sat relaxed in the seat. He needed a moment to recover. He had to wonder if she needed the same. He reached up for his pack of cigarettes, pulling one out. “You need one of these too?”

“No,” she laughed. “I need someone to get this kink out of my back.”

“I will help you later,” he promised as he lit his smoke, taking in a deep breath. He looked around the surrounding area, still seeing it empty before looking behind himself to see he doing exactly the same as him. “Heh,” he smirked.

“We’re going on three hours,” she gasped as she tried to calm her heart. “We probably can go back to base and wait for them.” She felt too relaxed to move as if she had melted back into the seat.

Jean nodded, taking in another breath of his tobacco. They both needed just a moment. “I wish there was room to do a proper cuddle,” he pouted.

Rebecca only giggled, finally prying herself from the seat and wiggling back into the front. “I suppose if you bring a dessert to my place, we can discuss this cuddling business.”

He turned his head to smile at her before flicking his cigarette out the window. The radio had been silent the whole time, even as they tried to call out, it was quiet.

“Let’s go,” she nodded, trying to rub the redness from her cheeks. “We can wait for them.”

He started the car and pulled from the curb. It was hard not to reach out to graze her hand with his as they drove back to Eastern Headquarters. Silent they sat, content in the warm atmosphere of their actions. Neither one of them could admit guilt, it was too good to wish it didn’t happen. However, both of them were disappointed that it was all that it was. They needed more. And thus the problem they fought with.

He held the door for her as they entered to halls, walking slowly down to the office. It wasn’t as if they had anything to hurry about. Chances were that they’d missed the whole event and the team would be out for another hour or so cleaning up the scene. They’d wait innocently in the office, maybe playing a card game to pass the time. It was easy to say that they’d gotten lost and went to the wrong district or some other excuse than, “we were busy fucking to try to find you.” Jean opened the door to the office for her, looking in to see the whole group seated and glaring at them.

“Where have you been,” the Colonel asked as he squinted.

Becca instantly hoped that she didn’t look like sex like she felt like it. “We sat where you told us. Where were you?” She squinted back.

“The guy never showed,” Lieutenant Hawkeye leaned over her desk.

“We tried to call you guys on the radio.”

She held up the radio. “We tried calling you! We looked all over for you!” It was a blatant lie but they’d go with it.”

Sergeant Fury walked over and inspected it. He flipped it upside down before showing it to them. There was a little strip of blue tape. “You picked up the broken one,” he verified.

“You picked up the broken one?” Lieutenant Breda snorted.

“Doesn’t matter,” Colonel waved his hand. “The guy didn’t show up.”

“Might as well just go home and try again later,” Hawkeye said firmly as she stood up.

Jean looked at Becca, raising his eyebrow. Never office history was Riza Hawkeye one to go home first like that. Colonel Mustang was next to stand, rolling his next. “Breda, get more intel and we will reorganize this tomorrow,” he ordered.

“Sir,” the red-headed officer acknowledged.

“You said something about dessert,” Jean asked quietly.

“Give me a fifteen-minute headstart.”

#Havolina #Jean Havoc #Rebecca Catalina #Fanfic #FMA #FMAB #@tomoehawkeye #request #i hope you enjoy it!

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musing-and-music · 2 years

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Ao3 First Lines Tag Game

Thanks @klainelynch for the tag!

Rules: Share the first lines of ten of your most recent fanfics and tag ten people. If you have written fewer than ten, don’t be shy and share anyway.

She's not a diamond, ASOIAF, Jaime/Brienne, Regency AU (on going), Rating T

“Lady Brienne of Tarth, daughter of Lord Selwyn Tarth!”

Brienne had barely put a foot in the throne room when whispers arose around her. She’d expected that, since she had never caused anything else than astonishment when she entered a room. She was seventeen, but she towered most of the assemblies she was invited to. Her height attracted eyes, but she knew her face only caused disgust to people who didn’t know her. This time would be no exception.

A king's decision, ASOIAF, early canon-divergence, Aegon V Targaryen, Rating T (on going)

From his seat dominating the feast table, Aegon gazed at his children as he entwined his fingers with his wife’s. He felt Betha’s eyes on him, open and filled with a question, but still took his time contemplating his progeny before talking.

a dream team's shenanigans, FMA, Team Mustang, Royai, Modern AU, Rating T (on going)

When Lieutenant-Colonel Mustang had met Second-lieutenant Breda who was fresh from the academy after the end of the Ishvalan War, the first thing that interested him was his bright intellect. Despite his average results in physical tests - however his endurance was quite good - he got first place in all classes concerning strategy, field approach, and knowledge of the enemy's strengths and weaknesses.

there ain't no way, baby (to get me out this house), ASOIAF, Jaime/Brienne, Post ADWD, Rating E

Jaime checked the lists of equipment that would be charged on the carts on the morrow one last time, before ensuring with Lord Royce that the men were ready to accompany him to King’s Landing.

We're a long term project, ASOIAF, Jaime/Brienne, Modern AU, Rating T

Brienne reads the resume once more and frowns as she meets the sharp gaze on the photo. This man is the best candidate Catelyn has found for now, after one month, but she can’t help the unease gripping her gut. Jaime Lannister is well-known, not for his skills -they look impressive, though-, but for his name and his bad reputation.

Is it the place or the people? (that warms my cold bones), FMA, Havolina, Royai, Team Mustang, High-school AU, Rating T

“Dammit! Shitty weather!” Jean complained as he removed his anorak still covered with snow and hung it on the coat rack covered with his colleagues’ coats. His hand was still numb from the shock against the wall that had stopped his fall, and his whole body was freezing because of the last hour spent outside, overlooking the installation of winter decorations around the building.

Royai : a OS Compilation, FMA, Royai, Rating T

The night was dark, the room was silent. Laying on his hospital bed, unable to sleep, Roy Mustang kept his blind eyes focused on the ceiling. All he could see was black. With or without light, he didn’t see anything. He was blind since Pride and Wrath forced him to open the Gate. He saw the Truth, and his sight had been taken.

Regular news, FMA, Winry Rockbell, Riza Hawkeye, Rating T

Since the brothers’ departure from Resembool to serve in the military, Winry had received news from them only a handful of times, and seen them even less often. It was one of the most frustrating things for the young girl. Her childhood friends, with whom she’d lived for years, with whom she’d been through the worst hardships – their mother’s death, her parents’ – now showed up only when Ed’s automail had an urgent need to be maintained.

A few nights in Westeros, ASOIAF/GOT, Jaime/Brienne, Rating T, OS collection

When Jaime opened his eyes, he saw blue. Not any blue. A deep blue, more beautiful than the sky’s, brighter than the sea’s, more precious than all sapphires’. Blue that made him forget about the green he’d dived in for years.

Pain grasped him again and he fell unconscious, before he could say something or look around him.

The sight descending toward me took my breath away, FMA, Royai, Regency AU, Rating T

“Riza, I’m home!” Roy shouted as he gave his hat and gloves to Madeline, who took them away with a smile.

He began to climb the stairs, impatient to see his wife again. They’d seen each other this morning, she’d been in his thoughts all day, but he couldn’t bear to be parted from her for too long - he cursed the times Grumman had sent him away on business when he and Riza weren’t even betrothed.

And I'll tag @nightofnyx8 , @niconiconina , @vayalda , @iammistressofmyfate , @greenmtwoman , @fullmetalscullyy , @aquietwritingcorner , @it-may-be-dull-but-im-determined , @wirettewirette , @beryllium--astatine if you want!

#tag game #self promo #royai #jaime x brienne #fma #asoiaf #fanfiction #musing writes

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