#hopefully its somewhat decent!! i came up with these in like an hour

[neewtmas]

A Fateful Bus Ride

A/N: I'M BACK! wohoo! Hopefully at least some people are happy about that whoops

I finally somewhat dug myself out of this slump I've been in (writing and otherwise) and this is my reintroduction piece, if you will. It's not my greatest work (when is something ever lol) but I think it's decent and if anyone has any more requests, I'd be happy to write them. This request is from literal months ago (I'm so sorry it took so long, I hope you're still interested) and it's the only one that didn't get deleted with my whole inbox bc I had started writing it already elsewhere. anyways, enjoy <3

pairing: george karim x fem!reader

wordcount: 2.2k

request: Could you make a George Karim x fem or gn reader where they are on their way to a mission and they have to ride a bus and there aren’t enough seats so she sits on his lap and he realizes he likes her and he confesses to her when they get home and he holds her in his arms (sorry if that is very specific It just came to me and it’s so cute) 💜💕 - by @iloveyousomuchhhhhh (it's not 100% exact but I hope you like it anyways :))

taglist: @maraschinomerry @marinalor @oblivious-idiot @lockwood-lover @givemea-dam-break (if you want to be added or removed, just send me an ask)

masterlist

George stood in the kitchen, pouring himself a cup of tea when he heard a commotion in the basement. The door to the staircase was slightly ajar, and he heard the clattering of metal chains against the concrete floor, followed by some curses and then more clattering. After a short silence, in which he contemplated if he should go downstairs to check, he heard the stairs creak as someone stomped upstairs, chains loudly sounding against the metal of the steps. The door got pushed open, and Y/N entered the kitchen, arms full of chains. She was breathing heavily as she unceremoniously dropped them next to the kitchen table on the floor. "What idiot put them into the closet like that? Of course they would just fall out and break my goddamn toes." George cleared his throat. He knew the culprit all too well, but a look at Y/N's face told him it would be wiser to feign ignorance. So he just shrugged. "Maybe Lockwood was feeling lazy last night", he offered and took a sip of tea to hide the small smile that fought its way onto his lips. From the way she glared at him, he was sure that she knew exactly who was responsible for putting the chains away the evening prior.

She left the kitchen and pulled the door closed rather strongly, as she always did when she was irritated. If it had closed, the bang would have probably shaken the pictures on the wall in Lucy's room in the attic, but it didn't. Instead, Lockwood came in, pushing it open again. He seemed to be in a good mood and full of energy, strutting over to the kettle on the stove, lifting the top to check for the tea inside before turning around to George. His gaze fell to the pile of chains. "Why are there chains on the floor?" He didn't even wait for George to answer, instead, he kept talking as he grabbed a cup from the cupboard and poured some tea in. "Just got the confirmation call, the case tonight is still on. Have you had a chance to gather some information?"

George filled him in on the findings the morning in the library had brought. It wasn't anything too special, it seemed to be a routine case. "Couldn't find any deaths related to the house or the ground it was built on. The lady on the phone talked about how the haunting started sometime after her great-aunt died. She wasn't living in the house though, so my bet is on some sort of haunted heirloom." Lockwood nodded contemplatively. "Sounds interesting enough."

An hour later, the four of them stood by the door, all packed and ready to go. Lockwood had the telephone by his ear, listening to what the person on the other side was saying. His expression turned from neutral to irritated quickly. He listened for a few more seconds, then said a curt goodbye before hanging up. "Can you believe it? Not a single cab is available in all of London. That guy must be mad!"

"What do we do now?", Lucy asked and Lockwood let out a long drawn sigh. "We take the bus. As the gentleman on the phone let me know, that is just as fine of transportation as a cab." He huffed, clearly of a different opinion. But complaining wouldn't get them to their destination any quicker, so they begrudgingly grabbed their equipment and left the house. Y/N had the straps of the duffle bag containing the chains thrown over her shoulder, and she quickly realised that carrying the heavy bag down the street would be much harder than simply carrying it a few metres to a waiting cab. She had a slight stumble in her step, the weight of the chains throwing her off balance.

"Do you need help with that?" George slowed down until she was next to him and extended his hand. "No it's fine", said Y/N through gritted teeth and attempted to keep walking. It was clearly not fine. George quickly caught up to her. "Just let me help you, Y/N." She sighed, setting down the bag and rubbing her shoulder with a grimace. "Fine. But let me at least carry your bag." George couldn't help but smile at her defiance. He remembered very well how long it took him to convince her to let him help her when she was struggling with something.

When she had started working for Lockwood & Co, she had been friendly but closed off - nothing that George hadn't experienced with Lockwood already. And after all, he himself wasn't known for being the most sociable person either. But something about her had caught his interest from the very first time she had walked through the door of 35 Portland Row. He handed her the much lighter duffle bag he had been carrying and picked up the one with the chains.

At the bus stop, they didn't have to wait too long, but that made their situation only marginally better. The bus that came to a halt in front of them was full, much fuller than one would expect at this time of day. But that's just how it was in the summer months, their work started when it was still light out, and that always meant that much more people were around. They hauled their bags and themselves into the vehicle and past the passengers already sitting inside. It was very apparent that the sight of their filled duffle bags, dark clothing and especially the rapiers that gleamed at their sides made the people around them somewhat uncomfortable. There were only three unoccupied seats left, and when Y/N, who entered the bus last, reached them, they were of course claimed by her colleagues.

It wasn't very comfortable, they had too much stuff with them and the bus was already overfull. "Do you wanna sit down?" George asked her and was already about to get up to let her have his seat, but she shook her head and motioned him to sit back down. "It's fine. I can just sit on the bags." They had stacked the bags to not take up any more space. But before Y/N could find a way to make herself comfortable on them, the bus driver started the engine back up and the bus lurched forward. She stumbled back, losing her grip on the pole she had held onto and landed on George's knees. She immediately started apologizing profusely, embarrassed by their sudden closeness. "It's fine, don't worry", George interrupted her, feeling a little overwhelmed by how flustered he felt all of a sudden.

She didn't try to get up and away from him immediately, and George surprised himself with his boldness as he pulled her closer so that she was on his lap completely. "Just stay here. If that's fine with you", he added hastily, not wanting to make her uncomfortable. Maybe that was a little too forward. He half expected her to jump up and get as far away from him as possible, but instead, she sheepishly nodded and didn't move. George turned his head to look out of the window, and he could feel the stares of both Lucy and Lockwood almost burning holes in the back of his head.

It was quite a long drive to the house they would be working at tonight, and George was happy to notice that Y/N seemed to get more comfortable with every passing minute. Where she was sat straight at the beginning, she was now leaning back against his chest. And again, with a boldness he didn't know he had he wrapped his arms, which had been by his side until now, around her waist and pulled her even closer to him. For a few seconds, his heart felt like it was about to jump out of his chest as he held his breath and waited for her reaction. But she just crossed her arms, placing them on top of his.

They spent the rest of the drive like this, and it was only when they reached the final stop, that George reluctantly pulled away his arms from her to let her get up. She didn't look at him, but her cheeks were pink as she grabbed her bag and dragged it off the bus. They were to only ones to get off at this stop, and so they stood alone on the sidewalk as the bus drove off. George prayed that no one would say anything about what had just happened. Luckily, neither Lucy nor Lockwood seemed to be in the mood for any teasing, though he could still feel them looking at him curiously. He chose to ignore them.

The case was just about as uneventful as he had predicted, and the source of the ghost - the great-aunt's necklace - had been found and cleared pretty quickly. Still, when they arrived back at the bus stop, it was dark. It was obvious that Lockwood still wasn't happy with this kind of travelling, but at least they didn't have to wait too long. This time, the bus was empty - no one besides agents was still outside now. The bus driver looked even more unhappy than Lockwood, and it was clear that he too would have preferred for them to have taken a cab.

But George was convinced that neither of them - neither the bus driver nor Lockwood - was quite as unhappy as he felt when he realised there was absolutely no reason for him and Y/N to repeat the seating arrangement from before. With them being the only four passengers, there were plenty of free seats available. But what somewhat lessened his disappointment, was the fact that Y/N chose the free seat next to him to sit.

Back home in Portland Row, George put on a kettle on the stove. Lockwood and Lucy had excused themselves to bed even though they came back earlier than usual from their case. Y/N on the other hand stayed with him in the kitchen while they waited for the water to boil. She was telling him about something that happened last time she had gone grocery shopping, but while he usually had no problems paying full attention to whatever she was saying, tonight it was different. He couldn't stop thinking about the bus ride. He had known before that he liked her, and that it was very different from how he liked Lockwood and Lucy - but it hadn't been clear to him just how much he liked her. And the way she had reacted to him - it gave him hope that maybe she felt something similar. He filled two cups with the water from the kettle and added the teabags. "Do you wanna sit in the library for a while?", he asked.

Y/N followed him to the library, where he sat down on the couch. She quickly contemplated if she should sit down next to him or if she should opt for the chair next to the couch. After what had happened on the bus, she was entirely unsure about how to act towards George. He smiled at her and she suddenly felt very nervous. Nonetheless, she decided to sit down on the couch, even though that meant they were now sitting very close next to each other. They were silent for a while, both sipping on their tea. The silence wasn't uncomfortable, it never was with them, but something was different than before.

Y/N finished her tea first and put the empty cup back onto the table. She was suddenly feeling very tired, but she liked the way she was sitting so close to George on the couch, and she didn't want this moment it end, even if she didn't exactly know what was between them right now. So instead, she leaned closer to him and rested her head on his shoulder.

George could feel his heartbeat quicken as Y/N leaned against him, and he had to force himself to finish his tea without choking on it. He quickly leaned forward to put his cup on the table as well, but the sudden movement had Y/N sit up straight again. "No no!", he said hastily, cursing himself silently for being so awkward in this moment. "Don't go away. That was nice." He almost bit his tongue. Was that too forward? But Y/N smiled shyly, in a way she had never smiled at him before. She resumed her position, and with his heart beating out of his chest, he slowly put his arm around her shoulder. A part of him was scared that this was too much, but instead of pulling away, she just cuddled closer to him and closed her eyes. "You are right, this is nice", she said quietly smiled as George leaned forward and pressed a kiss on her forehead.

thanks for reading, feedback is appreciated :)

request something

[goldenempyrean]

Hi! Could I please request sick reader x Scarlett where R passes out from heat/exhaustion/whatever and Scarlett panics a little/ takes care of us until we come to? Maybe on set for a movie or sth? Just soft soft wife Scarlett please. Thank you so so much!

Way Too Warm

〚 Notes - Hey, hey, hopefully you’re having a great day. I’ve never really written for heat exhasution so this is new leaf for me, no promises of how medically accurate things are :P Anyways! Enjoy :D 〛

〚 Summary - Filming in the summer had its drawbacks. Especially when they came in the form of a rather unpleasant bout of heat exhaustion. But theres no way Scarlett is going to let you go through it alone. 〛

〚 Wordcount - 1312 〛

〘 Check Out My Masterlist! 〙

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The harsh heat from the sun beat down against you. It beat against everything really. Whilst filming in the summer was great, it really did have its drawbacks, especially when you had to film outside. One being the intense temperatures which you’d have to work in and today was no different.

Temperatures had reached an all-time high and if you were being honest, it had started to affect you. It had begun when you’d failed yet again to a decent night sleep. You’d hardly slept, mainly because of the sheer stuffiness of your trailer, another negative effect of the intense heat. The feeling of fatigue had gradually washed over you and before long you’d felt a headache begin to settle behind your eyes.

By some miracle, you’d managed to somewhat cover up how you felt, shrugging off your costars concerns, and everything had gone pretty smoothly too so far but as fate had it, that didn’t last long.

By the time lunchtime rolled around you felt awful, you could hardly keep yourself awake not to mention the thick cloud of fog which had taken refuge in your head. It felt like everything around you was being filtered through a sheet of cotton.

Looking down at your schedule, you saw that it was time to film your scenes with Scarlett. This was always your favourite part of the day. Scarlett was on the team of producers along with being one of your co-stars which meant during her work-hours were hectic meaning you only really saw her if you were filming together. Of course, you’d still see her after the day had finished, you did share a trailer afterall but it was always great to see her during the day too. So, you took a deep breath, readied yourself and stumbled down to set.

“Hi, my love,” Scarlett smiled wide when you finally made it onto set. It turns out walking is alot harder when your view of the world feels like it’s spinning around at 90mp/h, “You okay?” She asked, noticing your spaced gaze.

“Im fine.��� You fibbed, waving off her concerns. You could tell she didn’t quite believe you but at that moment your director called for everyone to get into positions, so she had no choice but to drop it.

What happened next, in your mind, was nothing short of embarrassing. Scarlett gave her line perfectly but when it came to you… nothing? Your mind went blank, completely and utterly blank so instead of speaking, you just stood there awkwardly, looking off at some distant point.

“Cut! Y/N, what was that? Is everything alright?” The loud voice of your director snapped you out of your haze.

“Im sorry! My mind just went blank.” You apologised before getting back into your position, airily mindful of Scarlett’s eyes as she looked over you with an expression you couldn’t quite recognise. Was it worry?

"Just give me a minute."

You took a deep breath weary of Scarlet's eyes follow you, and not just her eyes. Her whole body seems to pivot toward you but still, she only watched as the both of you got back into your original positions.

"Action!" Your director shouted again.

You tried. You really did try. But that pain gnawing at your temples began too much, the world spun. it became hard to process what was going on around you and you found yourself tongue tied yet again.

Scarlett tried to cover for your mistake, inventing another line for her character. However, your director appears to be tired of your antics and calls out the command once again, "Cut. Y/N, I don't know what's going on with you today but if you're going to waste my time you can head back to your trailer."

Scarlett shot him a look that you’d hate to be on the receiving end of. You took a step forward as you began to stammer another apology, but a wave of nausea came over you, causing you to stop and cup your arm around your stomach as you winced.

The next thing you knew, your peripheral vision went black as your knees buckled, giving out beneath you sending you dropping to the floor with a thud.

“Y/N!” Scarlett shouted as she rushed over towards you, kneeling beside you in an instant, “Fuck. Are you okay?”

Your head felt unimaginably heavy as you struggled to fight against the urge to close your eyes. Barely registering Scarlett’s touch as her worried hands cupped your faces. But your efforts were in vain as only moments later, your vision swayed and dimmed as you inevitably blacked out.

You weren’t sure how long you were out. The next time you opened your eyes, your head was resting in Scarlett lap as she cradled you, quietly whispering words you couldn’t quite hear.

You made a noise of discomfort and confusion as you slowly came round, “Mm.”

“Jesus Christ Y/N, you almost gave me a heart attack.” Scarlett breathed a heavy sigh of relief as she helped you move up into a sitting position. She kept her arm around your shoulder to support you, but it was as her arm touched your exposed skin that she noticed the intense heat coming radiating from you. Prompting her to place her palm over your forehead.

“You’re way way too warm sweetheart,” Scarlett voiced as she kept her cool hand pressed against your forehead, calling over for the on-set medic so he could take a look at you now that you’d come too.

Ignoring your protests, the medic came over and knelt down with the two of you, he handed Scarlett cool, damp cloth which she used to gently dap along your forehead whilst making sure to keep her hand clasped around your own as the medic started his observation, looking over you with an unreadable expression.

“Headache?” He inquired.

You nodded.

“Fatigued?”

You nodded again.

“Have you been feeling nauseous at all?” He asked as he reached into his bag, rooting over before pulling out a thermometer.

“A little.” You admitted, not missing the small worried glance Scarlett gave you hearing your answer.

The medic hummed as he held his thermometer to your head. It was the fancy kind which required no actual contact for it work. Seconds later it beeped, the small digital screen gave off an orange light as it displayed the numbers ‘38.7’.

“You’re running a fever. A pretty high one at that, combined with your other symptoms I think it's safe to say that you’re experiencing heat exhaustion.” He announced before standing up, “you shouldn’t work for the next day or so, not until this heat dies down a little. Try your best to keep cool and your symptoms should slowly go away too.”

“Thanks.” You gave a weak smile as the medic left to go and sort out some paperwork and you slowly began to pull yourself up.

“Easy there,” Scarlett soothed as she helped you stand, “I guess we better get you back to the trailer, you should’ve said you weren’t feeling well. Heat exhaustion isn’t a joke y’know.”

“I know, Im sorry.” You sighed, taking Scarlett’s hand in your own, “I didn’t think it was that bad.”

“It's alright, let’s just get you cooled off, a cold shower should make you feel better too.” Scarlett smiled as she began to lead you away from the set, “you’ll be okay, is there anything else I can do to make you feel better sweetie?”

You shrugged, ignoring your discomfort as the hot sun shined down onto you, magnifying your nausea, “I just need to cool off,” You tried to sound assuring, giving a soft smile as the pair of you continued towards your trailer, “Thanks for taking care of me.”

“Of course, now, let's get you inside.” She smiled as you approached your trailer, “I promise you’ll start feeling better soon.”

[mimikittysblog]

Get to know me game!

Wasn't tagged by anyone but saw @end-hyphen do it sooo here I am doing it :3

Tagging: @hello-stranger24 @tfwheeseung @heeverseblog @dearsugarrush @hee-pster @jaysbiceps @seohotonin and anyone else who wants to doooo thisss!

Birthday: April 5th

favourite colour: Purple! But pink is slowly becoming my favorite. Or I could just say both lol

do you have pets?: YES! Have a toy poodle! His name is bubble :3

how tall are you?: Genuinely not sure- I guess I'm 155cm according to my friend? but I think I'm a bit taller than that so lets say 157cm

how many pairs of shoes do you own?: Oh.. a lot some are still in my old house- But I have well over 10.

favourite song: LITERALLY TXT JUST CAME OUT WITH THEIR NEW ALBUM AND DEVIL BY THE WINDOW HAS ME IN A FUCKING CHOKEHOLD- So yes. that. But Same Scent by Oneus is also one of my all time favorite along with A Song Written Easily!

favourite movie: Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets hehe or Dead Poets Society

who would be your ideal partner?: Anyone who can love my dumbass and be patient with me 🥹 But making me laugh is the way to my heart so- someone who has a similar humor to me is almost an immediate 10.

do you want children?: Yes yes I doooo! Hopefully one day :3

have you gotten in trouble with the law?: Nope-

what colour socks are you wearing?: currently not wearing any

favourite type of music: Any really- if I like it, I like it. I say I typically like any conventional song if that makes sense- but if its catchy and I like it.. then I like it. Obviously rn I'm very into kpop but my music taste is all over the place. Like I still listen to some My Little Pony songs- CAUSE SOME OF THEM HAVE NO RIGHT BEING THAT GOOD.

how many pillows do you sleep with?: 5 and one long bolster. I actually just use one but I have 5 on my bed lol.

what position do you sleep in?: I sleep on my back, I used to sleep on my stomach but now I sleep on my back lol.

what don’t you like when you’re sleeping: Uhm.. bright light I guess?

what do you have for breakfast: I don't typically eat breakfast but whatever is available and I'm craving it lol, sometimes rice, sometimes a sandwich, sometimes its soup, sometimes its noodles.

have you ever tried archery?: Noooo I have not! But I've ALWAYS wanted to try! Looks so cool and fun! Wanna live out my Narnia dream :3

favourite fruit: Strawberries :3 but I also like grapes a lot! and pineapples!

are you a good liar?: I would have to say yes- or at least I'm decent at it

what’s your personality type?: INTP but it might've changed

innie or outie?: I think overall I'm more of an innie, I like just relaxing but recently I've been going out with friends more and that's been fun :) (but if this question is actually referring to my belly button then it's an innie)

left handed or right handed?: Leftieeee

favourite food: I would have to say Mac n Cheese overall lol- love cheesy things but an Indonesian dish called Rendang is so so good and also one of my faves.

favourite foreign food: Hmmm Teokpokki is really good :3

am i clean or messy?: Somewhat messy yes, I'm not like super messy, if it gets too much I'll clean up but I get lazy to clean up and put things away too often

most used phrase: Usually curse words (in english and Indonesian) but other than that its Nauurr, omg, woi, bener (correct in indonesian), gak gitu konsepnya (thats not the concept), beb, I wanna die and love

how long does it take for you to get ready: Depends, but roughly an hour for normal days. sometimes it can just be 30 mins.

do you talk to yourself?: Oh yes all the time. Bad habit really.

do you sing to yourself?: Of course I do, randomly burst into song like I'm in a musical too often.

are you a good singer?: Not even in the slightest. It's why I would rather swallow and shit out razor blades than sing for my idols at concerts. Yknow how idols sometimes gives the mic to a fan and ask them to sing? yeah no. pls don't let that ever happen to me.

biggest fear?: What happens after death- idk its scary to think that it just ends like that. I mean I do actually believe in an afterlife but.. still scary to think about.

are you a gossip?: I just sit and listen- I love gossip but I'm not the one to spread it lol. Mainly cause truthfully if no one tells me directly- I would literally never know. Like my campus- it's known as the gay campus 😭 I literally didn't know that until last semester cause my friend finally told me.

do you like long or short hair?: I prefer short cause it's easier to manage, however I like both. Cause you can have more hairstyles with long hair.

favourite school subject: English and PE

extrovert or introvert: Introvert

what makes you nervous: People. My mother and family. Idk a lot honestly 😭

who was your first real crush?: A guy from my middle school lol was my first love too

how many piercings?: Twooooo Want more thoughhh

how many tattoos?: Don't have any but I'd really like to have a few one day.

how fast can you run?: No clue but not that fast- thats for sure

what colour is your hair?: Ok- this is hard to explain- but I had my hair in a split dye, but for my aunts wedding I dyed it back to black. I dyed it twice cause after the first time I missed a few spots. So the first time I dyed it I actually mixed it with my purple conditioner, second time I did not. After my aunts wedding I washed my hair thoroughly because for the wedding I had to have my hair in a specific traditional hair style that requires a lot of teasing and hairspray. So most of the black hair dye got rinsed off and somehow- it left the top half of my hair green and the bottom part purple. But thats only for half of my hair so- my hair is black purple and green rn-

what makes you angry: Slow walkers and people who don't wait for people on the bus/in elevator to get off first before getting in.

do you like your name?: Yes very much so :3

do you want a boy or a girl as a child?: Any is fine :)

what are your strengths?: I'm pretty smart and understanding. But I'm brutally honest. and I'm very loyal.

what are your weaknesses?: Too loud

what is the colour of your bedspread?: White with like- a london pattern 😭 like it has the england flag and big ben and stuff on it.

colour of your room: Bluuuuueee! light blue!

[veryrealimagination]

"911, What's Your Emergency?"

Day No: 11 Prompt: Self-Done First Aid Fandom: Murdoch Mysteries Medium: fic Trigger Warnings: mentions of a past car accident, somewhat graphic description of injuries SFW

When she first tried moving, Julia cried out in pain.

It wasn't as painful as childbirth, but she hadn't experience anything painful since the car crash after 48 hours at residency. Two broken ribs, shattered thigh bone, grade b concussion. She was out for months, and they made her restart the entire stupid thing after she healed and came back. Back at zero. Bastards. One of the reasons she didn’t feel guilty about not staying at the hospitals to practice.

Right now, there was sharp pains going up and down her right arm. Forcing herself awake, to see what was wrong, she spotted what the problem was quite clearly. Her lower arm had a break through her ulna and radius. Possibly in two different areas. Her upper arm had blood gushing out of a deep wound, likely caused by the metal laying at her side. She's pretty sure it was her blood. "Fuck," she muttered, sitting up. A wave of dizziness came and took a minute to leave. She looked behind her and saw a decent amount of blood on the ground where her arm had been. "Right, first things first, stop the bleeding," she instructed herself. The room she had been thrown into was half trashed from the destruction caused by Sally's plan. At least Eva, who had been planning on killing her, again, was still out cold. If she wasn't bleeding at a steady rate, she would have checked her and made sure she couldn’t do anything until someone came. Instead, she was going to have to find something to wrap her arm and stay away. Most of the shelves were broken, and instead of landing in a nice bathroom or the supply closet, it was some sort of conference room. "This is a bloody joke," she said, feeling more coming out. Wishing she had worn a belt today, her left hand came up to apply pressure so she could move, maybe. "All right, Health and Safety, hopefully someone was keeping up to date for your sake." The obvious answer was over by the cabinets that likely held food and small things for meetings. Those had mostly been knocked over by the force. Several were broken open. The smell of coffee grounds was nice, as she tried getting closer to the mess. Sugar, salt, creamers mixed and made her steps crunch. Nothing was on the ground to indicate a first aid kit had been thrown out. Her hand had to be unclamped from its position to start pulling at the rest of the cabinets. There were foam cups, plates and plastic utensils. Someone's left behind mugs and Tupperware. A roll of duct tape. Which she noted as that could be a possibility. There were loads of napkins that hadn't gotten covered with anything. After checking the last of the cabinets and making sure it wasn't in the rubble, she sighed. Grabbing several of the napkins, she placed them on the wound. The sticking wasn't good, as it would be hell to get off, but it was better than merely putting the duct tape on. Which, after finding the edge and managing to start ripping it with her teeth, she wrapped around her arm as tight as she thought safe. "Part one done," she said. She hadn't a jacket today, it being too warm. Julia was just coming across multiple points of 'need to be prepared more than I am'. Right now, the best thing to do for the broken part was to just hold it close to her body. And sit back down. Far, far away from Eva. Hopefully, someone would show before she woke up.

[princesscatstronaut]

cool just all of my greatest fears at once awesome love that for me

so my heat hasn't been working for a few days. another relevant fact is that my apartment is a huge depression hole of messiness and trash. so before I called the maintenance folks, I wanted to have things more cleaned than they currently are. another relevant fact is that my lungs are so deconditioned bc of the multiple (and sometimes bi-yearly) bouts of pneumonia that I got during grad school due to stress. cleaning and/or taking out the trash is really hard and now I'm somewhat disabled and need help with these tasks. I hadn't started getting someone to come cleaner for me, bc I had just started at my job and wanted to save a little before that. but now that my heater needs fixed, there's no time.

to be logical, I have no data that says anyone at the management company for my building cares at all about how messy my apartment is. I've lived here 7 years and have always paid rent on time. but in the rental situation I was in before this apartment, I was renting from a private individual who threatened to evict me bc of not cleaning enough. I managed to clean enough that they had no problem renewing me for another year, so it must not've been that bad. either way it was a huge shame and I have landlord trauma about it. being seen as so messy that I shouldn't even be rented to, this is one of my greatest fears.

so when I placed the maintenance request last night, I assumed it would take a day and that I would have a little time to redd up more. however, the maintenance person came within an hour of posting it so I had to frantically make a path to the furnace. and then when he asked if there was a clear space in the bedroom for a space heater (so that it wouldn't catch fire), I couldn't provide one. and since I've been living with the temp at 61F for a few days, I have plenty of blankets so I'm fine with it. one more ping of shame. the guy then called the hvac guy and they're supposed to come around this afternoon.

the minimum I want to get done before they come around is to clean the little boxes and the bathroom. other than that, I'm not going to push it. I still have to work today, after all. I have to get a summary slide deck to our collaborators by the end of the day and have lab meeting around 3. I will have all of the analysis done in about an hour, then I just need to figure out how to interpret the results. but I think I can get that done by 3, so I'm not super worried about that. the hard part (running this program that I've been fighting with for 2 weeks), I did yesterday. luckily I'm so good at bash scripting that I can run all of this stuff in a script and do work *WHILE* I have a major panic attack about how messy my apartment is.

so yeah. last night was all fight-or-flight. didn't sleep super well. haven't taken my brain meds yet. haven't started working on the bathroom yet. my work-work is in progress and seems to be going well. I think that's pretty well automated at this point.

I woke up early-ish so that I could have time to clean a little, but now that I'm working on work stuff, I don't want to stop and do something else, even if it is automated. hopefully they can fix the furnace today, its supposed to be like 15F outside next week, and I don't know if the ambient temp will be warm enough to keep the pipes from freezing.

but this panic made me realize that I need help to get this cleaning taken care of. and yes it'll cost money, but I do have a decent income now. and with the new money coming in every month, I can make this happen. a few years ago, I had a cleaning company come around and dispose of a lot of cardboard and trash that I couldn't take out bc of my lung issues and occasionally my bad knee. they were really kind and fast. it costed a bit of money but it was well worth it. I'm going to call them to come around again. normally they work with hoarders and so they have to go through every item to see if the person wants to keep it or not. I'm not a hoarder though, so I bag everything up that needs to go out and then they take it out and bing-bang-boom, we're done. I'm like an anti-hoarder, I know what I want to keep and toss, I just don't have a body that lets me do that easily anymore.

as I said, I have no indications that the rental company would evict me for the messiness. but my internal shame about it is so high, and my past landlord trauma, that these facts are not registering very well. if they do ping me, I think I should have some amount of time to make it better. like a week would be enough, I think? and I can ask for accommodations for my disability in the form of the time I need to get cleaners to come help. or, worse comes to worse, I make enough money now that I can just get a different apartment and call movers. I don't have a backup apartment ready, but I think it would be possible. probably very expensive right now, but what can I do about that. but I hope it won't come to that. we'll see. hopefully the hvac guy won't care that much. and if the landlord does get mad, its not like I'm damaging anything that's a permanent fixture, its all *my* stuff that's gross, so like, whatever.

so yeah, its basically all of my fears all at once and I'm trying not to panic, but its not working very well. the cleaning tasks I want to do before the hvac guy gets here should take less than an hour, so it won't be that bad. and then I can focus on work. bc that's what pays the bills.

[socktron]

some shiro headcanons

since it's his birthday i thought I'd write some up for the space dad 💖🌈🌸💞

• shiro flat out refuses to celebrate his birthday on the 28th of february when it isnt a leap year because he feels like its cheating and will only celebrate on the first of march

• lance: does it ever hit you that you're almost twenty and you think... god... im old

• hunk: oh yeah all the time

• shiro, a 25 year old:

• shiro is kind of embarrassed on the days leading up to his birthday because he is That Person, but the gang still want to do smt for him so they decide to throw him a party

• as it turns out, throwing a surprise party on a ship where you're the only seven people is pretty hard

• allura, sticking paper man trains that hunk helped her make to the walls and covered in paint and glitter:

• shiro:

• allura: this is an ancient tradition for altean royalty and is something to be taken very seriously

• everyone expects keith to know what they need for shiro, and he does for the most part, but it turns out that lance knows quite a bit himself.

• hunk: does anybody even know what kind of cake shiro likes?

• lance: chocolate sponge with chocolate icing. he also really likes it when they have rainbow sprinkles and those tiny silver balls, but i dont really know how we could find them-

• hunk: how do you know this

• lance, sweating, thinking about his crush on shiro when he was fifteen and that he stalked him online regularly: uh. he told me.

• pidge is so bad at keeping the party a secret. they barely get any sleep and are therefore prone to being a blabber mouth. keith resorts to knocking cups off the counter as a distraction

• he actually really likes popular pop music!!! his brain is secretely that of a teenage girls and lance swears hes heard him humming nikki minaj in the shower before. he denies it to this day (he absolutely was)

• pidge, who purposely messes up shiros age just to piss him off: you dont look a day over 32 shiro!

• shiro: thanks pidge. five laps around the training room :)

• keith is absolutely the worst at trying to hide the birthday party. he cant lie to save his life and lying to shiro?? impossible

• shiro, knowing full well keith cant lie to him: so keith, where has everyone been recently? i wanted to catch up on some training but everyones been missing

• keith, panicking: dead

• for someone so smart,, shiro is shockingly oblivious. the rest of the castle have nearly revealed what they've been doing several times but shiro is on two hours of sleep and unable to comprehend what he assumes are their regular dumb antics

• back when he was on earth shiro never did anything extravagant, he only ever had dinner with his parents or stayed in bed with adam, and they would watch shitty reality tv show with a bottle of wine

• younger shiro: hey adam... do you think that i actually have delayed aging because im born on a leap year. will i live forever

• adam: takashi go to bed

• keith has given him little presents before and he has teared up,, he kept them all on the shelf on full view and constantly pointed them out for the next month much to Keith's embarrassment

• the party is space themed!! they managed go find some glow in the dark stars from an earth store and set up a hologram to show the galaxy and hunk made one of those cool galaxy mirror cakes. lance gets him a face mask kit and demands they have a makeover, whilst keith carries on his little tradition of giving shiro small trinkets he thought reminded him of him

• shiro is genuinely touched and didn't at all expect this. with everything that happened with the galra he forgot about his birthday and almost starts to cry

• shiro, during his birthday party with two hats on his head: everyone knows the more hats you wear, the more valid you are

• keith: you look stupid

• shiro, already putting on a third one: you're just jealous you didnt think of this first

• keith under his breath: dammit how did he know

• they all have a huge movie night with a bunch of earth dvds they managed to scrounge up from the space mall. hunk and pidge somehow make a working dvd player for them all to use

• hunk: ok shiro, since it's your birthday you can choose what we watch!

• shiro, already pulling out a dvd: have you guys watched naruto

[the-soliloquies-of-sadists]

#259

“Seth? Right? C’mon in. Your brother told you who I am? Good. Want a beer?... Here you go. Let’s go out to the back deck. The sun went down, and the cool evening air is starting to kick in. Have a seat…. Ok. Seth, do you know why you are here? Let me be blunt. Your brother David owes me a lot of money. A lot. He’s been doing jobs for me that I need someone I can trust to do. But that’s barely covering the interest. I told him he needs to start working down the principal. So, he offered me… you….

“That’s right he sold you to me. You are going to whore off his debt…. Shut the fuck up. The deal is set. Have some more beer; it will help you to deal with what I need to go over with you….

“Your brother probably told you that I am a powerful man. Hopefully he didn’t tell you what I did. I will share with you one part of my business that you will be a part of. I have several whore agencies across several states. They ain’t like the whorehouses in the movies. The girls never see money; they show up at a set time and do whatever the man wants. They do not say no. They get to live in city, and they show their clients the best the city has to offer. They have everything paid for and get a nice credit card too.

“A few years ago—hell it’s more like ten or so, —I was convinced to do the same but on the fag side. Now, I knew nothing about fag sex, and it disgusted me. Once I got over the visuals, the business was just like the girls. The difference I found out was that I had to have two sets of whores—fag boys like yourself, and men old enough to be your father.

“It was Frankie, one of my goons, who told me that there is a lot money to be made by men taking the dominant role. I didn’t believe it. So, he arranged for me to watch him from a distance him work over this faggot. He didn’t tell me how much he was earning. When I saw this fag hand over three hundred bucks, I knew I needed to get into this. I mean my guy did barely anything other than smack the fag around, call him names, and sit on the faggot’s face at the end. That fag ate that fat ass while pounding its pud. Frankie even went over to the fag’s wallet and took an additional hundred out of it. And wouldn’t you know, that fag boy was loving life.

“Needless to say, that was how I got into the fag whoring business. I had Frankie lead it; he even got somewhat in shape, and now he’s my most popular whore men. Wait a minute, you know him. He fucked you behind a dumpster in the alley behind that fag bar a couple weeks ago. When I saw you at David’s birthday partner at my tavern and he told me that you were his sperm burping brother, I sent Frankie to find out more about you. I know that you can take a good pounding, face slaps, rough housing. Frankie also told me that you cleaned off his cock after we was done and that you drank his piss. You even begged him for more as he walked away from you, naked covered in piss behind the dumpster. That’s all I needed to hear.

“After meeting with your brother, all I had to do was press the massive debt. I knew how self-serving he was. He sold you out so fucking fast. And now I own you. Now strip faggot….

“You do realize who I am? No one ever disobeys one of my direct commands. Now think about your next move real carefully. STRIP YOU FUCKING FAGGOT. Take your time standing up. That drug I put in your beer will make you kinda dizzy if you stand too fast. Yeah, I didn’t want you to run back to your car. Kid, when you came in that door, you were mine. That’s it. Accept your fate. Good boy.

“Yeah, after Frankie roughed up that fag, I was curious. He arranged for me to use one of his regulars who was blindfolded. It was so much fun to kick and punch that faggot only to have him crawl to me, begging for more. With each time, I got more wicked, and they wanted more. I had a few fags over the years locked up and had the best of all worlds. My wife provides me with companionship. My girlfriend offers sensual making love and snuggling. And my faggot takes all my rage filled abuse.

“Underwear needs to go too. Let’s see what you have. Not bad. Looks like you are excited about being naked in front of me. That’s a lot of pre-cum. Decent sized balls. I’d say you are about six inches long. The shaft is a bit thin, but the head is good size. Your foreskin is not too long. That’s good. If there’s going to be one sweaty stinky dick around here, it will be mine. If yours becomes a problem, we’ll get you circumcised.

“What? Faggot, you are nothing more to me than my pickup. If I want to modify you out, I sure as hell am going to. I modify all my property. Tattoos, piercing, permanent hair removal, castration, branding, and so on. But actually, I am a bit cautious. I made the mistake of castrating a fag and regretted it afterwards. He just didn’t seem right to me. The cutter I went to tried to put in fake balls, but it still didn’t seem right. I ended up replacing that fag with another.

“I am looking for my perfect fag. I’m planning on letting my girlfriend go, but sometimes I need that close touch. Not going to do that with my wife. Every day now I realize that I want to be with faggots over women. Faggots are so much easier to mold into what I want. And every now and then I might snuggle with one.

“I like what I see. I want to see your cumload. Jerk off for me. I’ll give you a few minutes to do so. When you do, shoot in your spare hand. I want to see the quantity. I’m going to get your collar; it’s probably done charging. I’m also going to take your car keys. You ain’t going anywhere. Continue jacking….

“….Did you cum? You did! Good fag. When was the last time you came? Yesterday morning? Well that’s a good load. Here, lock this collar around your neck. Ok, so here’s the deal. You can jack off as often as you like, whenever you like as long as I am not using you. If I catch you jacking off, don’t stop. If you are watching porn, continue. But know this, no matter if you haven’t cum in days or you just had a massive orgasm, should I require your use, I fully expect 100% horniness and enthusiasm.

“This remote is hooked up to your collar. With this button… you fall to the floor just like that. Hurt’s like a mother fucker hunh? That’s on low. Remember that. It is also set up to shock you should you cross a 20-foot perimeter of the house. I am notified by an app on my phone when you do something that stupid. Also, the garage and my office on the third floor are completely off limits. You will not fare well should you cross that threshold without me.

“Bring your cock over here. Is your dick head sensitive. It is! Fuck yes! As you get soft, it’s driving you crazy. Good. Good. I see a problem here. Your pubic hair is all over the place. You shouldn’t have hair down here. Look how long this hair is. There’s enough so that I can twirl a bunch around my finger. With a firm yank,… it comes out in one clump. Aww shut the fuck up. Most of the time your screams of pain will turn me on, but now it’s just annoying. Another clump on the other side, and it doesn’t even look like you lost any.

“Look at me faggot. Say ‘Thank you.’ Good fag. Open your mouth. Here eat your pubic hair. Go on chew it. Nasty? I know, now swallow. And here’s… another bunch. Swallow these…. And these… And these… You’ll be permanently shaved in the near future so you won’t have to do much pubic hair eating.

“While you finish your snack, let me take you around the place and show you your duties. This is the kitchen. David told me that you went to culinary school but then dropped out. Well, you will be doing all the cooking here. Cleaning too.

“Let’s go downstairs…. This is your room, although you really don’t have privacy. Over there is your cot. Next to it is the plug you will put into your collar every night. I am notified on my app should the power level drop below 75%. That’s equivalent for not charging for a full week. Unless I just slam you with shocks, I should never get one of those notifications.

“You have a wash basin there, and your toilet is there. There’s your douche hose over there in the shower. No, I haven’t gotten around to buying it a toilet seat; the cold porcelain is fine. And I haven’t hooked up the hot water down here.

“Let’s go up to the Master bedroom…. You never climb into my bed unless I invite you in. In fact no non-sexual furniture for you either without permission. Through that door is the master bath. You will keep this place spotless. That includes licking clean my toilet. The rimseat next to it is when I want to make you toilet paper or a full toilet.

“And here’s the playroom. It’s totally soundproofed. You are going to suffer a lot in here. Screaming is encouraged. In fact, what time is it? Seven. Well we might as well start now. Get on all fours—knees and elbows. Spread those knees wide. Every night you will present yourself in this position, as you will every morning.

“Don’t get too excited. I am going to fuck you good, long, and deep. But that won’t until the end. We got a long way to go. You see, the only people who knows my affinity for preferring the boys to the girls are Frankie, me, and now you. Your brother thinks I’m adding you to my harem of fags. This is something that cannot get out. And if it does, I will know it came from you, and I want you to know the perpetual hell that will come your way.

“Tonight is a test of what you can expect, but keep in mind, tonight’s suffering will be only five hours long, much shorter than what will be if my preference is ever widely known.

“And after the paddling your ass to a welted mess, whipping your back until it turns to bloody hamburger, kicking your balls until they are swollen to twice their size, bruising up your face, and fucking you with very little lube, I may feel the need to snuggle up with you afterwards.

“But first, there’s a lot to do before we do that. Oh look your balls are just ripe for a good old fashioned full-force kick. Every night and every morning you will get one to always remind you what you are.

“Faggot right now with this kick your hell begins.”

[mrs-hollandstan]

More Than Perfect || Sam Holland

Warnings: mentions of nudity, mentions of childbirth and the complications afterwards, self-doubt, language?, babiessss, Sam just being a supportive cutie

Word Count: 1,720

Author’s Note: Hopefully you guys enjoy a little bit of dad!Sam. Lemme know :) Also, huge credit to @/marsbudge on Instagram for the picture on the right. She’s amazing in expressing her beauty and is the whole reason I created this piece. Moms/ women in general are fucking superheroes. 

My Masterlist || Add yourself to one of my taglists

There was nothing like having a baby. You were told that once you had a little one, your life would change and you would never understand the absolute love you have for this tiny human you'd made. When you and Sam got pregnant with your daughter, he was infatuated with your naked body. The tummy and the thick thighs and the ever growing breasts. Not that you yourself particularly minded being nude around your fiancè or just in general, especially when it just so happened that in the worst weeks of your pregnancy you'd be in the middle of summer. 

When your belly popped towards the bottom, blossoming up the further you got in your pregnancy, Sam lost his mind. He loved the bump and when his hands wandered, it's often where they ended up. More than anything, Sam appreciated the changes your body went through, especially the stretch marks around your thighs, hips, and belly. The boy was obsessed. That's why his Instagram blew up with pictures of your belly, pictures from the baby shower, of the nursery, of her closet, her name board above the crib, and eventually her when she arrived in the beginning of August. 

Virginia Elizabeth was what you named her and Sam, just as much as when she was in your belly, was obsessed with her. She was constantly in his arms and he admired each one of her little features on the daily, dressing her, feeding her (if you couldn't of course), changing her, rocking her to sleep. He was an all around great father. 

Especially because of the pain and exhaustion he inevitably and guiltily felt he inflicted on you. Your bump remained for a few weeks, but what it left, Sam saw, made you slightly depressed. Your feet were still swollen, your breasts were huge but your belly was starting to sag, and the bleeding was ridiculous. You slept most of the time because of the constant milk production and late nights, but Sam didn't mind taking Virginia out into the living room and kitchen, especially if his brothers were over to see their baby girl. 

However, after about a month you'd gotten somewhat used to being a mom and feeding her late at night with Sam right there at your side, giddy smile on his face the entire time at the look of his girls. He loved introducing you as his girls and going to see family and friends with your bubbly little girl in his arms. But something that seemed to remain after all of it was the nudity in your house. 

Sam found that most times he came to find you napping, you were nude beneath the blanket. Not that he minded. Easy access to the skin of your back and belly and thighs. He actually loved the sight and hoped that when he went back to culinary school and eventually went to work as a chef in one of your local restaurants, you'd still be like that, something to look forward to when he climbed into bed with you. 

With a day off from work but not from school, Sam was off in the afternoon and back before the sun started to set, walking up the stoop with a smile on his face. Even a few hours spent away from his girls was torturous. Shouldering the door open, he drops his bag just inside, kicking his shoes off just beside it, 

"Babe?" He calls. There's no reply, a frown covering Sam's face as he walks towards the nursery. He pauses in the doorway of your bedroom when he sees you, smiling to himself. You stand just before your bed, nude with your little girl, only clad in a diaper, in your arms. Your eyes are closed as you sway from side to side, the little one whimpering softly. Walking into the room, Sam stands with his hands on his hips, 

"Look at you two." He says softly. You open your eyes slowly, glancing at him. His smile is so wide you don't know how it fits on his face. He takes a deep, breathless like breath, looking you over, "You two are so perfect." He mumbles before he walks forward again, coming to stand behind you. His hands rest over your hips, lips pressed to your temple, 

"You smell like biscuits." You murmur softly, not faltering in the swaying, even as you lean back against his chest. He chuckles softly, 

"Orange cardamom biscuits. They'd go good with your tea, I'll have to make them sometime for you." He explains softly. You nod, lips pressing against Virginia's cheek. Her little face is turned up towards the ceiling, mouth hanging open as she fights sleep. You sigh, 

"I uhh, I took a shower, put her in that little bouncy thing just outside the shower and she got fussy cause it was hot in the bathroom. So I took her out of her onesie and was holding her and I just... her skin on mine felt amazing. Like yours does. And I miss her. I miss..." Sam can see the tears in your eyes now, "I miss my baby bump and being in the hospital smelling that newborn smell and all that." You tell him. He nods, 

"Its the postpartum peach. You know it'll pass and you'll have so much fun with her when she's older. Plus... the older she gets, the closer we are to havin another one. More of that newborn smell." He reasons. The look you throw him over your shoulder makes him swallow, 

"Alright... yeah, still traumatized from her birth, got it but... you don't have to be so upset. She's still little and perfect... both my girls are, and for the next... what, year, that won't change. She'll get nice and chunky and when she changes, we'll so be ready for it. She'll get giggly and fun and you'll love it. I know you will babe." He reassures. You nod, 

"I know I just can't help it. It feels like someone else is controlling my life, my emotions. I'm sorry." 

"You don't have to apologize Y/N. Your body, your mind are going through a lot of changes. You're maturing and all that. I'm not upset about it. The crying, from you or her doesn't bother me. At least there's some need for me." He half jokes. You smile, looking down at your baby girl. He sighs, 

"I'm really likin this naked thing with you though." He mutters, kissing your shoulder as he molds your hips in his hands. You hum, 

"Sometimes I'm just too lazy to get dressed, other times it's just too hot." You reason. Sam nods, 

"I like it." 

"Oh yeah?" He nods when you glance up at him, "Maybe you should join the party then. I wanna stare at her and she likes daddy's chest." He doesn't even need you to finish the before he's stripping from the grease and oil stained shirt and pants, leaving them in a pile on the floor as you sit at the edge of the bed. You scoot to your side, letting Sam lay down before you before you lay Virginia over his chest. He mumbles incoherently down at her, kissing the top of her head as he strokes down her back. He purrs which makes her whimper, the motion further lulling her to sleep. He glances over at you when you prop your head up on your hand, 

"You're a great father Sam. You've always been an awkward little bean but... when it comes to V, you do amazing." He chuckles softly, 

"Thanks Y/N/N. You two... mean the world." He admits, rubbing up and down your baby's back softly. You sigh, brushing his unruly curls aside, 

"I'm just glad that I don't have to cook. The food you make is excellent and you like doing it and baby loves it too." He laughs again, 

"And that's all that matters is making you both happy." He murmurs. There's a silence that permeates between you for a moment before you stand, finding the thin robe you wear all the time if it genuinely is too hot to wear anything else, 

"What was this... thing you were saying about orange cardamom biscuits?" You ask with a cock of your eyebrow. He smiles wide, tip of his tongue caught between his teeth, 

"I'm starting to think ALL you use me for is food." 

"I feed your little girl from my own body like eight times a day. The LEAST you could do is make bomb fucking food Holland." He hums after a moment, eyes averted from yours and to the little girl laid across his chest. He glances back up, 

"Can we just... have a little longer of this moment? Just a pretty little family before I'm whisked away to slave over a stove." He jokes. After a moment of staring at each other, you sigh, trying to fight your smile before you near the bed again, sitting at his side, 

"Fine Samuel. But only because you're pretty." You lean in to kiss his nose, kissing your baby girl's head just below his chin, "And you too little miss. I just hope you at least get something from me for all the pain and suffering I went through getting you here." Sam reaches up to tuck hair behind your ear, 

"You're a great mumma already. I have no doubt that she'll be witty and perfectly perfect. With a mum like you she'll always know she can never disappoint us with whatever decision or life choice she makes. You'll make sure of it and that's what matters. Raising a decent fucking human being." He says with such passion in his eyes you think you'll faint. You stare at him for another moment before sighing, 

"I love you more than anything on this earth Samuel Holland. Our little family is just perfect right now." You tell him. Leaning up to kiss you, he sighs, 

"Love my girls in all of their beautiful nudity. Love skin to skin." He murmurs. You lay your head against his shoulder, watching your girl sleep. Of course pregnancy and motherhood was difficult, but your fiancè made it so much better and your baby girl was everything and more for the both of you.

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[george-mackay-macfine]

Let's play a game

A/N - Who remembers the snippet I posted ages ago with the bad boy / good girl. Well, I finally did something with it.

Please enjoy, Chapter one.

The warmth of the sun was the first thing I felt when I woke up, coating me in a blanket of warmth. It was too much warmth, and I was rapidly becoming uncomfortably hot. The second was the throbbing in my head, undoubtedly brought on by all the alcohol I had consumed the night before. And the third was the heavyweight of an arm across my torso. Who did the arm belong to? Well, to be honest, I wasn’t quite sure.

“Shit,” I whispered, cautiously turning on the plush bed, careful to not startle the owner of the arm that lay all too casually around my waist. “Shit, shit.” I moved the arm carefully off my waist, putting it beside its owner.

The owner of the arm was none other than Jude Hastings, the boy I’d known since I was eight, and the boy who’d mercilessly teased me throughout school and somewhat into our adult lives.

People, primarily our parents, often called it teasing— a bit of harmless flirting between an adolescent boy and a dorky adolescent girl, so they said. I, on the other hand, referred to it as warfare.

Which would lead to a lifelong war between Jude Hastings and me.

“Fuck,” I stood from the bed and looked down at what was covering my body… It wasn’t much. All I had on was what I’m assuming was Hastings’ button-down shirt, and that was it. No bra, no pants… And I had no clue where my underwear had gotten to. “Pull yourself together, Darcy,” I whispered to myself. “Just find your shit and get out.” I pinched the bridge of my nose, taking five deep breaths. My mother always told me it was a way to destress, but guess what, mom, I am still stressed. “Okay. Pull it together.” I had seven things I had to find in this apartment, and hopefully, it was all contained to this one room. Anything I couldn’t uncover would just have to be left as a sacrifice to the apartment demon.

My pants and top were the easiest to find, laying at the end of the bed a dead giveaway of where Hastings and I had ended our night standing, or at least standing for the most part. I vaguely recall him pulling me off the bed just to bend me over the desk he had pushed against the wall… I guess that counts as sort of standing.

“Jacket…” I crept around the room, trying to find where my favourite corduroy jacket had landed in the thralls of passion I had shared with the still sleeping demon. “Gotcha,” I pulled on the sleeve bringing it out from behind the chair that sat pushed into the corner. Another memory of Hastings and I making out on the very chair flashed through my mind bringing a blush hot enough to make the top of my ears burn. “Shoes, bra and underwear,” I sat on the floor, pulling my jacket over my arms looking around for a sign of any of the missing clothing. I quickly spotted my bra hanging over the bedpost at the top end of the bed. “Ahha.” I pushed up from the floor and padded across the carpet, keeping a keen eye on Hastings to make sure he didn’t suddenly wake up and catch me in the shameful morning after clothes collection. If I was lucky, I’d leave with all my belongings and whatever scraps of dignity I had left. “Four down, three left.” I scooped the bra off the bedpost and shoved it in my pocket. Watching Hastings, I dropped to my knees and looked underneath the bed in hopes of finding at least one of the remaining items, if not all of them. “Shoes.” I gripped the heel on one of my boots and pulled it towards me, half an item down… The second boot was more brutal to get to. I had to crawl at least halfway under the bed to reach it, somehow it had landed so far underneath the bed last night, but at least now I had shoes to wear for my solemn journey home.

Was underwear really that necessary for a journey home? Could I just leave without them? And my purse, I mean, I’m sure any decent human being with any dignity would give it back to someone who’d left it at their house. Still, then again, this was Jude Alexander Hastings we were talking about. He wasn’t known to me for being a decent human being. Besides, cancelling all my credit cards and getting a new I.D sounded a lot more appealing than risking Hastings waking up with me still inside his apartment with minimal clothing.

“Fuck it.” I army crawled backwards out from under the bed, careful not to get any carpet burns on any delicate parts. Trust me, one time of having sex on some carpet, and you know the pain well enough to not do it again. Once I emerged from the pits of the bed, I took a final look around, trying to find the elusive underwear or purse. “Note to self, cancel the credit card.” I stood up and walked to the pile of items I’d begun to form at the end of the bed: pants, top, bra, shoes and jacket. Five out of seven ain’t bad in the grand scheme of things. I mean, was it my favourite purse? Yes, and were they my favourite pair of lucky underwear? Yes. Could I buy more to avoid any further interactions with Jude Hastings? Fuck yes.

“Missing something?” The husky voice that haunted my alcohol-soaked brain startled me into dropping my pants to the floor. I spun on the ball of my feet and looked at him, lazily lying in his bed. The sheet hanging from his waist was the demon man himself. Since when did he have abs? - No, not the point, Darcy.

“Two things actually,” I felt the rush of heat blossoming on my cheeks as I finally allowed myself to look over his bare chest.

“Would these be one of them?” His hand rose, hooked around his pointer finger was my black lace thong, the one I’d been crawling around this whole fucking room looking for. Bastard. “They sure look like yours.” He held the up higher, squinting with one eye.

“If they’re not mine, perhaps they’re yours,” I smirked in self-satisfaction as the smirk on his face faltered. One Edwards.

“Well, if you’re sure they’re not yours.” He bunched them up, leaning over to his bedside table. “I think I’ll keep them then.”

“Wait.” I yelped, springing onto the bed. “Give them to me,” I reached for them. Holding my hand out, waiting for the lace scrap to be returned to me. “I need them to get home.”

“No, I don’t think so.” He dropped them into his bedside table. “You said they were mine.” One Hastings.

“God, I hate you,” My eyes turned to slits as the smirk came back to his face more prominent than the one I’d managed to make him lose moments ago. He shut the drawer and returned to his previous position, his whisky coloured eyes running over my form.

“Not what you were saying last night.”

“Was that before the double shots of tequila? Or was it before the fishbowl margarita?” I moved back, standing at the end of the bed, pulling my pants up over my hips. Usually, I’d feel self-conscious dressing and undressing in front of someone I’d just had sex with. Still, by this point in our lives, Hastings had already made numerous comments about how ‘plump’ I was, as he liked to call it. I didn’t have time to dwell on the idea that I gave him a front-row pass to see how correct his childish name-calling was. “Or maybe it was before the game of beer pong?”

“Yeah,” He dropped his head and laughed. “It started about there.”

“Hastings, you know as well as I do that I don’t remember a thing about last night, right?”

“Would you like me to give you a play-by-play?” I unbuttoned his shirt with nimble fingers. For once, my skill of unbuttoning button-downs came in use.

“No, thanks. I think I can surmise what’s happened from the lack of underwear.” And the memories of him pushing me up against his front door helped with the overall picture.

“It was your idea,” I stole a look at the bedside table where the same old alarm clock I was sure he’d had since middle school sat. Nine-thirty. Shit. Fuck. Shit.

“Was it now?” I didn’t really have time to hear how this interaction was my fault, but I was curious. Even if I was supposed to be meeting my parents for brunch in half an hour, and by the looks of it, I was going to have to suffer through without underwear.

“Oh yeah.” He fell back onto the bed. “The boys and I were at the bar, and you came up to me… You know I was expecting to have another verbal sparring match with you, one I’d ultimately win.”

“Doubtful,”

“When you began to flirt with me.” I could hear the smirk in his voice even with my back facing him.

“Is that so.” I sat on the edge of the bed and picked up one of my boots, unzipping the side.

“Oh yeah,” I heard the shuffle of sheets on the bed behind me and then felt the warmth of his chest pressing onto my covered back, heat radiating from where his skin touched me. “Never expected this from you, Edwards.” He moved my hair to the side, his fingers leaving goosebumps on my neck as he trailed a fingertip along the skin. “Really, I never did.” His lips touched the skin now, ghosting the same pattern his fingertips had traced.

“Alright,” I stood up, balancing on one foot as I tried to shove my foot into the boot. “I don’t know what this.” I wiggled a finger between our bodies. “Is, but last night was all there was. There will be no encore, M’kay.” I knelt down, zipping up the boot before shoving my foot into the second.

“If you’re sure you can live without one.” He moved back to the top of the bed, leaning back on one arm, watching me scamper to make myself presentable. “You know you’re still wearing my shirt.”

“Thank you, Captain obvious.”

“I’d like it back. It’s one of my favourites.”

“And those.” I jutted a finger at the bedside table where my underwear remained captive. “Were my favourite pair of underwear.” I smiled sweetly at him. “So we’ll call it even,” I brushed my hair with my fingers, trying to make some sort of progress with it so it didn’t look like I’d just been to pound town… which apparently from the ache in my legs I had been.

“You know that’s not helping,”

“What isn’t.”

“Trying to make yourself look like you haven’t just had one of the best nights of your life.”

“Bold of you to assume that,”

“Not an assumption. You told me so much yourself last night.”

Fucking Hastings. That’s it, fuck it. I was getting my underwear back. Even if it meant a small game of seduction.

“Look, Jude.” I let my voice drop into a whisper as I walked towards where he lay comfortably. I flung my legs over his body, straddling his waist. I couldn’t help but internally melt when his hands clinging to my waist, pressing me down onto him. I’m human. What can I say? The thin sheet gave everything away, and I had to admit, Hastings was packing more than I thought. Self-satisfaction flowed through me as I saw his eyes widen slightly, his pupils dilating as his fingers moving in circles on my waist. “I want you to know something about last night.” His eyes locked with mine as my right hand held onto his chin, keeping our eyes locked, my left going to the bedside table quietly pulling it open.

“Yeah?” His Adam’s apple bopped as he swallowed.

“Last night was,” I moved his head, so he was looking away from the drawer as my hand began to search for the fabric. “Was something that I…” My fingertips grazed the lace. BINGO! “I’m going to pretend doesn’t exist.”

“Oh really?” His hand quickly left my hip and grabbed around my waist. “Because I’m going to remember every little detail.” The lace slipped from between my fingertips as he flipped us. “Especially every time I open this draw.” I heard the draw slam shut and all hopes I had of leaving with my underwear gone.

“Get off me.” His right hand pulled my leg up and wrapped it around his waist. Oh god… he was good.

“Oh no, you started this.” He laughed, his chest pressing into mine with each exhaled laugh. “I’m just finishing it.”

“I need you to get off me so I can leave Hastings.”

“I dunno, I’m quite comfortable.” His hand pushed the fabric of his shirt up, revealing a tiny slither of my skin. “I like how you look in my bed, a forbidden fruit who doesn’t belong.” I let out a snort. If this was his attempt at flirting, he had a lot of work to do. “But here you are,”

“You are right. I certainly don’t look like the type of girl you’d waste your time on, so how about you let me up, and we pretend this didn’t happen.”

“No, I don’t think I like that idea,” His voice came out in a soft whisper.

“Why?”

“I was always told girls like you,” I felt a rush of enjoyment as his eyes ran over my body, a rush I didn’t want to feel. “The good girls who their parents think their perfect when really they’re the worst of the worst are the best,” It was beginning to be a struggle to concentrate as his fingertips brushed the hair away from my forehead. “And from what I’ve been told, you’re the best of them… So I want to find out myself.”

“Oh really?”

“Really. Why did you come up to me last night?” Why did I go up to him last night because I was lonely? Because I was sick of April talking about her fiancé? Because as much as I don’t want to admit it, verbally sparring with Hastings was a highlight.

“I heard that the reformed bad boys are the best,” His finger dragged along my jawline. “And I heard you’re one of the best.” I countered with a smirk.

“Oh really?” He mimicked.

“You tell me,” His fingertip tapped against my lips. Impulsively I nipped on the tip.

“Let’s play a game.”

“I’m listening.”

“The game to end all of our little games for good… No more practice jokes, no more telling my parents I got some random girl pregnant.” He chuckled.

“Then you can’t egg my car anymore or let down my tyres.”

“Fine.” He conceded. “Then let’s sweet talk,” His lips went to my neck, placing sweet kisses along the skin. “Let’s play fight, talk twenty-four-seven,”

“I’m no good at sweet-talking, and I don’t think I could stand talking to your for so long.” My voice came out breathy as my senses zero’d in on the feeling of his lips.

“Let’s wish each other good morning, and good night every day… We’ll take walks together.”

“I’d prefer a ride on your motorbike.” He let out a chuckle, the skin under his lips practically vibrating from the motion.

“I’ll give you a nickname,” His lips were on my jaw now, my hands we on his back, nails digging into the skin, I’m sure leaving moon-shaped indents. “Let’s hang out with each other’s friends.”

“Your friends are dicks.” His lips dropped close to mine, a chaste kiss being left on the right side.

“We’ll go on dates, talk all night on the phone… I’ll hold you, kiss you.” His lips moved to the other side. “We’ll make love, bang, fuck whatever you want to call it.”

“I’m waiting for the game part, Hastings. Right now, it sounds like you just want me to be your girlfriend. I mean, I know last night was good, but really this good?”

“The game is, Whoever falls in love first, loses.” He finally pulled away, his right hand still rubbing circles on my hip bone.

“Doesn’t seem like much of a game.”

“Then why do you seem so scared?”

Was this asshole serious? I was never scared, especially not when it came to challenging him, beating him.

“I’m not.”

“Then what do you say?”

“So you want to pretend we’re a thing to all of our friends, all of our family, just to make one of us fall in love with the other first for what? Bragging rights and heartbreak?”

“Tell me something.” His lips hovered inches from mine. I could feel the warmth of his breath, and how the hell did he not have morning breath? “How good would it feel to know you conned me into loving you, then breaking my heart,”

He had a point. After all the years of heartache and teasing he’d caused me, it would be fun to break his heart into a million tiny shattered pieces.

“What would we tell everyone?” His body moved against mine as he shrugged.

“That we’ve reconnected or connected whatever you want to say.”

“You really want to do this?” My brow raised in suspicion.

“Make you fall in love with me.” I nodded my head. “Oh hell yeah,”

“Fine.” I smirked. “Let’s play a game.”

[wolffe-simp]

Heart Of A Wolf

This is just a random thought I had and may make it into a series, not sure yet but I hope you enjoy. This is a 3am thing, so it may not be as good as it could be.

Translation :

Evaar'la wolf means young wolf

Buir means Father

Jedi Master Plo Koon must face the past when an unexpected arrival at the Jedi Temple causes certain events to unfold and Commander Wolffe is entrusted with his Generals most important possession.

The force works in mysterious ways, it lives in every creature, big and small, taking many shapes and forms among the vast populations of living organisms. But it was not the force that had brought you to the Jedi temple on Coruscant, it was fear of the darkness that had followed you halfway across the universe, nipping at your heels as you ran away. Everything that had been, everything you knew was gone, now ashes on a planet that many had overlooked and forgotten.

Ever since you had landed on Coruscant, you had made your way to the temple, your mind focused on one task, to find the one person who would be able to help you in your time of need. Now you stood, staring up at the towering structure of the Jedi Temple, the setting sun bathing its stone walls in a warm glow, like a beacon of light, like a beacon of hope. Taking a deep breath, you made your way over to some temple guards who were stationed at the entrance, they watched you as you approached, observing your every movement to ensure you weren't a threat.

"Sorry, but no civilians are allowed inside the temple without permission from the Jedi or other personnel." One stated when you stopped in front of them.

"I've heard, but I need to find someone. A Jedi who has this emblem,its important." You replied, pulling a small necklace from your pocket, a wolf head pendent dangling from the chain.

The guards seemed slightly taken aback by the sight of the necklace, they shared a look between each other, seeming to have a silent conversation before finally moving to let you pass. Two of them followed alongside you as you entered the temple, leading you down a few halls, already you had lost your way and you wondered how they remembered what hall led to where. You received many looks from passersby, temple workers, clones and even a few Jedi themselves. After a while, the guards stopped you outside a pair of double doors, asking you to stay put while they went inside to sort things out.

You watched as they disappeared, shuffling awkwardly in the empty corridor, alone once again. You turned to the open windows, deciding to sit on the ledge of one while you waited, the city of Coruscant spread out before your eyes. It was so different to what you had known, there were no open fields of green, no birdsongs to coax you from sleep, no rushing rivers to guide you home when you lost your path. It made you feel small, as if you were a child again but now you did feel lost, lost in the vastness of the galaxy.

It seemed like forever when the doors of the room finally slid open, you expected the guards to come out and tell you to leave but instead, you were greeted by the figure of a Kel Dor. You slowly got up from your seat, nervously playing with the necklace in your pocket , you opened and closed your mouth, trying to find something to say. Yet you couldn't find your voice, eyes downcast to stare at the floor as if were suddenly the most interesting thing in the galaxy. Did he remember you? Was he even aware of who you were? or of where you came from. Would he even believe you? You were so conflicted, your mind was too loud for you to even think clearly, every thought making your chest tighten with fear and anxiety.

"Evaar'la wolf"

The words made tears well in your eyes, the memory of the name spoken softly to you as a child suddenly swam in your mind, a younger version of yourself clinging to the side of the Kel Dor as you drifted to sleep.

"Buir." You whimpered, flinging yourself at him, arms winding around his waist in an embrace.

Despite being watched, Plo Koon wrapped his arms around you, pulling you closer as you cried softly into his chest. It had been many years since he had seen you, many years since he had left you in the care of your mother to continue his life as a Jedi. He remembered the few times he had seen you, never truly having a stable presence in your life. You were two by the time he first held you and you were five when he had last held you in his arms and you had cried like you did now, clinging to him like he would suddenly vanish and he had. He always wished you would understand why he had done what he had once you had grown. Now you were here, a young woman, as beautiful as her mother. Your lack of resemblance to him had always put him at ease, making him hope you could have a peaceful life without being ridiculed by some for being the child of two species. You were Mandalorian, like your mother, but you had his heart and spirit.

"Come now, young one."

He kept his voice soft as he let you go, guiding you into the room he had been occupying only moments before. You huddled into his side, greeted by the eyes of a few clones and what looked like two other Jedi. Plo Koon took you over to a create for you to sit on, along with two clones wearing grey and white armour, they were two of three that wore it, the last standing not so far away. You sniffled softly, feeling your father wipe away a few of your tears before turning his attention to the others in the room.

"Obi-wan, Anakin. If I may ask, would you do me the favour of rescheduling the meeting until tomorrow morning?"

"Of course Master Plo, I believe more important matters need to be tended to." Obi-wan replied, bowing his head respectfully before leaving the room with the Anakin and their clones.

The other clones stayed, looking towards their general for orders to leave but none came, so they were left to watch as Master Plo Koon crouched in front of the girl that had called him father. The clones were use to the caring side of their general, he treated them equally and fairly, making them feel like they were more than just numbers from a cloning facility. Yet it felt different now, as if he was treading in uncertain territory.

"You are a long way from home, young one."

"Home is gone father." Your voice trembled as you spoken, filled with sadness. "Its all gone, home, mother, everything."

"What happened?" One of the clones asked, his hair cut into two rows, savage scars running down the right side of his face and his amber eyes watching you closely.

Silence feel over the room, the words dying in your throat. You didn't know how to explain it, maybe they would think it was all your fault and your father would hate you for getting your mother killed. You knew the laws of the Jedi about attachments but you knew he cared for your mother nonetheless. You didn't want your father to see you like this, weak and broken, you weren't a damsel in distress but you needed him now more than ever.

"It started with the nightmares, mother said it was just my imagination running wild. I saw the forests set ablaze, the animals trapped among the flames, mother calling for me and then everything fading into nothingness, it all felt so real. It was the same dream, every night until my name day. Instead of the normal dream, a wolf came to me, telling me it was time to embrace my destiny and to allow the force to guide me down the path presented to me. It was the same day the separatist invaded our home, searching for something."

They listened to every word you said, even though you didn't go into detail, they were able to understood what had happened, Plo Koon more than the clones.

"It is possible, that a spirit of the force was able to contact you and warn you of the coming danger." Plo Koon hummed.

He stood up, stroking his masked chin in thought as he paced for a moment. To attack your home, to attack you and your mother in a place so far from the war was a concerning matter, one be would have to bring to the council as he sensed something else was at play. Right now, he was just happy that you were alive and thanked the force that you had found him.

"Commander Wolffe, I require a audience with the council. I trust you to keep my daughter safe until further notice."

"Yes General." The clone in question nodded briskly, saluting your father.

You shared a look with your father, knowing the unvoiced question and nodding. You would be fine without him for a few more hours, you had commander Wolffe to look after you so hopefully no harm would befall you.

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

Within the long hours you spent with Wolffe after your fathers departure, you had managed to become quite close with the other two clones, Boost and Sinker. They had made it their mission to ensure you felt better, every small giggle of smile encouraging them to do better until your mind was rid of the thoughts that invaded your mind. Sometimes, they would get to far with their jokes and almost hurt themselves or potentially you, which meant Wolffe would have to intervene and tell them to reel it in.

Eventually, the two headed off to what they called 79's while Wolffe took you to his office to he could keep an eye on you while he finished some work. Sinker and Boost had invited you to go along with them but Wolffe declined their offer for you as he didn't want you to be overwhelmed with the likely bombardment of questions from other clones after his drunk Vod let loose that you are Master Plo Koon's daughter.

You sat in the chair opposite Wolffe, looking around at his plain, bland office with a look of empathy, you had heard of how badly clones were treated. He was a soldier and yet, he couldn't even get a decent office because of how people looked down on him. You sighed softly, crossing your legs and adjusting yourself in your chair, trying to keep yourself somewhat entertains now Sinker and Boost were no longer around.

"I like your scar."

Wolffe looked at you in shock, he was halfway through one of his datapads. He had suspected there would be some small talk, but he hadn't expected you to make a statement as bold as that, especially about the one thing he himself, felt very subconscious about.

"Thank you." He mumbled in return. "Though, it scares a few people."

"Of course it scares them." You scoffed. "The people who sit back and relax while you fight their war, are scared by your sacrifice to make their world a better place."

Wolffe stared, from the crying girl he had met only hours ago, you had suddenly become another version of his general. He hadn't expected you to be so caring towards him despite the reason you had ended up here. He could still seen the pain in your eyes but he could also see a small spark, hidden deep in the depths of your iris. He had been sceptical of you at first, merely out of wanting to protect his general and his brothers from a possible trap from the separatists, after all, you could be someone in disguise, the Jedi had done something similar themselves with Kenobi.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be." Wolffe reassured you, gracing you with a rare half smile. "Not many see us the way you and Master Plo do."

"Dad has always seen people for who they are, rather than what they are. Life is the right of all beings after all, we have no control over how we are created so we shouldn't be judged by our places of origin."

"Whats your place of origin?" Wolffe asked before he could stop himself.

"My origins are a planet far from here, where a Mandalorian went to hid from her people, outcasted and branded a witch for her shapeshifting ability. A woman who saved a Kel Dor from a crashed ship and nursed him back to heal and in return, he gifted her a child, so she would no longer be alone. A child with the heart of a wolf and the spirit of a Jedi."

You smiled at one another, continuing to chat into the late ours of the night, talking about anything that came to mind. Eventually, you fell asleep in your chair while Wolffe explained a story about how Boost had eaten a spicy fruit from of of the planets they had visited. Wolffe chuckled softly at your sleeping form, moving to scoop you up in his arms. He carried you bridal style to his general quarters and tucked you into bed, knowing Master Plo Koon will be a few hours more and would likely take the couch. Until Plo Koon arrived, Wolffe took a chair and sat it outside the door, his blaster in hand, ready for any threat that might come for you.

[scoutception]

A look at: Moon.

Writing reviews is always a learning experience for me, and one of the important things I’ve learned is that, sometimes, it’s pretty hard to write about certain individual games, visual novels, or such considering the kind of detail I like to go into. Therefore, this will be the first in a new series of mini reviews, or as mini as they get with me. Maybe there’s just not enough to a game to really give me details to dig into, or maybe it’s difficult to talk about without giving away more than I wish, or maybe there’s just something related to it that I’m more interested in talking about than the actual product; whatever the reason, these will hopefully be less rambly and excessive than my usual reviews, while still giving enough of an overview that they stand as proper reviews on their own. Either way, the subject of this post is an old, obscure visual novel from 1997 with a bit of history to it, called Moon.

Moon was developed by Tactics, a humble developer of adult visual novels, and was the second one developed by them, with the first, Dōsei, seemingly just being, well, a plain H-game, and the third, One ~To the Radiant Season~, while still obscure, is actually fairly notable for being a prototype to Kanon in a lot of ways, as many key staff at Tactics would later break off to form Key afterwards, with them having also worked on Moon beforehand. Thus, Moon is in a very interesting spot when it comes to the progression of the developers that would change VNs as a genre with the release of Kanon, and that’s really the only reason I checked it out.

Moon follows Ikumi Amasawa, a girl who joins a mysterious organization called Fargo, which recruits others with the promise of acquiring an alleged “invisible strength” that can put one far ahead of ordinary humans, in order to investigate their possible connections to the murder of her mother, and if possible, take revenge on the ones responsible. Upon arriving at the Fargo facility, Ikumi quickly befriends two other initiates with ulterior motives of their own for joining: Haruka Mima, a determined girl with a cool attitude who keeps her goal to herself, and Yui Nakura, a cheerful, but naive girl who’s seeking to bring home her older sister, who joined Fargo several months prior. Though the three agree to become allies and help each other achieve their goals, they are quickly separated in different “classes” housed in different buildings, with Ikumi being assigned to Class A, the most prestigious of them all. Settling into her new life as a Fargo initiate, which mostly consists of “training” with the Minmes and Elpod, machines that confront her with various parts of her very troubled past for the purpose of “mental reinforcement” in the form of a vengeful doppelganger of herself, Ikumi gradually discovers many strange things about her situation, such as there only being one other member of Class A, that being Youko Kanuma, a quiet, cold woman who has been part of Fargo for many years. Additionally, Ikumi is forced to share her room with a strange boy who doesn’t volunteer his name, who, though part of Fargo itself, is quite low ranking, and more than a bit dim witted at times. Worst of all, upon finding a passage that allows her to access the buildings where her allies are kept, Ikumi finds that the other classes are subjected to horrific abuses by Fargo’s personnel in order to further their mental reinforcement. As Ikumi struggles to aid her allies however she can, the confrontations with her past begin to put a heavy strain on her mind, and the existence of the invisible strength Fargo claims to have starts to become more and more plausible.

Needless to say, Moon isn’t exactly Clannad. I did not know much about this VN before I got into it, and finding it to be a psychological horror VN was a bit of a shock. Even more of a shock was just what form the majority of the horror came in. You see, even though One ~To the Radiant Season~, Kanon, and Air were all released as adult games, the h-scenes are very disconnected from the plot, most of the time, to the point of losing nothing from skipping them or even removing them from the game, and were pretty much just obligatory inclusions to help them sell better. From Clannad onward, most Key VNs have been clean to start. With Moon, on the other hand, you can’t go 5 minutes without running into some explicit scene, the main source being the Elpod sequences and the abuses the Fargo personnel inflict, and it wastes no time getting to them, at that. This is the biggest thing that drives off many of the few who go out of their way to experience Moon, and even with me having just watched an understandably censored playthrough of this on Youtube due to its shorter length, I almost quit very early into it, and definitely would have if I had actually played it. The Elpod is one thing, as the sequences are used for the purpose of developing Ikumi, but even then, most of them are just excessively disgusting more than disturbing, and that goes doubly for the sequences outside of it. Instead of really changing things up, they’re just content to get gradually more and more depraved, and outside of disgusting, the main thing I can even call them is repetitive. This is one of my biggest problems with Moon, and it was pretty hard for me to get into it because of it.

Another major problem I have with Moon is how it handles its cast. Moon is pretty short for a VN, only around 10 or 11 hours if you go straight for the true ending, and even though there are 7 endings in total, they don’t add much more time onto that, with two being worse variants on the true ending, and the rest being bad endings gotten through making bad choices. Having as small a cast as it does should naturally work fine with that, but they really aren’t balanced well. While Ikumi gets developed across the whole game, and Yui gets a good arc pretty early on, Haruka only gets a short arc that ends as quickly as it starts and doesn’t do a lot for her, Youko barely has any screentime despite establishing a good dynamic with Ikumi, and the boy doesn’t have much presence or relevance until late in the story. The pacing is just bizarre and rushed feeling.

That’s not to say there aren’t a number of good points to Moon’s story. Ikumi is very well developed throughout the story, with the Minmes in particular leading to many melancholic scenes that make her quite sympathetic, and were definitely the high points of the normally rigid daily schedule much of the story takes place during for me. Despite the story’s flawed handling of some of them, the cast is still decent on a whole, with Youko’s gradually developing friendship with Ikumi and Yui’s development during her arc being some of the more memorable parts for me. The atmosphere is very well done, with the cramped, depressing corridors of the facility always feeling like they’re hiding something awful just around the corner, especially since you need to manually navigate the place using a map screen, and once the plot really kicks into high gear things become much more compelling, with the final days containing many high points in characterization and an infamous mindscrew of a sequence that, once looked back on with a more understanding eye, is actually quite fascinating in its own right.

Visually, Moon’s art was done by Itaru Hinoue, the same artist as the majority of Key’s VNs, and it’s a lot rougher than the art of, say, Kanon. It’s not outright bad, but it looks very dated, with the designs and sprites not really sticking out. The CGs vary in quality, as some look pretty ridiculous, but others are quite good. Most impressive, though, is two animated intro sequences included in the DVD version, which happens to be the only version with an English patch anyway. They’re fairly brief, but do a great job of setting up the atmosphere and premise despite that.

On the sound side, the soundtrack is great. It’s not a very big one, with only about 16 tracks, and the use of them can get a bit repetitive, but most of them are just a joy to listen to. From the electronic and tense Closed Space, to the wistful, yet peaceful The Place Where the Sun Shines, to Youko’s ethereal theme, to the credits theme, Sorrow, and especially the nostalgic music box theme, Memory, it’s worth looking up even if you hold no interest in the VN itself. There’s also voice acting, also added in the DVD version, and most of it is just average, with not many performances standing out, with the exception of Kahoru Sasajima as Ikumi, who delivers a very solid performance, especially during the more intense moments.

Overall, Moon can be a pretty hard sell. While I thought it was a decent experience by the end, its very offputting content, lack of similarity to any other Key works, and bleak atmosphere can make it pretty hard to go through even if you’re prepared for what’s to come. Even if you wanted a horror VN, there’s plenty others out there, like Chaos;Head and Chaos;Child, Higurashi: When They Cry, Wonderful Everyday, Raging Loop, or just about anything from nitro+. That said, if you can stick to the end, I definitely feel it becomes fairly satisfying, and when I got to thinking, I realized something that actually boosted my opinion quite a bit just by itself. As much as Moon is a story about cults and psychic powers with a somewhat unclear point to it all, it’s even more so just a story about a very troubled youth struggling with her grief, irrationally falling in with a bad crowd, and being forced to face her past and actions if she wishes to accomplish anything. Looking at the story that way, it’s actually quite well done, and going in with that in mind may even make it a bit more palatable. Still, I wouldn’t especially go out of my way to recommend it, and ultimately it’s still very far from being one of my favorite visual novels out there. Either way, that concludes my first mini review, which still turned out longer than I thought it would. My next post will be something unusual for me as well, but that’ll take a bit to come. Till next time. -Scout

[jinnwenhe]

Number 51 with Bede and a male/enby reader? :O! I rarely find anyone who's willing to write for non female coded readers so im really glad I found your blog!

Used artwork credit here

A/N: i got the name of the prompt wrong but we dont speak of that— ANYWHO, im glad i could get the chance to write this for you then, anon! Yeah i rarely came across blogs that are gender neutral about their imagines too :/ hopefully you'll enjoy this though!

(7,915 Word Count!)

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Bede wasn't quite the type to show his concern over others, even when he got close to you and developed feelings for you. He's not used to express his emotions other than being cocky and looking down upon others. But this time, it was different.

You promised him that you'll help him out for the day at his gym, considering its the time where numerous of challengers comes barging in the stadium, asking for the badge that'll get them to the next gym leader. Bede didn't mind them, he never did. It was just that some of them were starting to get to his nerves; challengers bringing their toxitricity to the stadium and using sound based moves, blaring right in his ears— oh for Arceus's sake, let the battle end already, the poor boy's ears are becoming somewhat sensitive if they kept doing that repeatedly.

That being said, he waited and waited for you to come, but eventually, you never did. He pondered over what happened to that awfully irritating (yet lovable) rival of his as he walked out of his gym, telling his assistants to close it for the day and inform the challengers to screw off. He got better things to do than to listen to those damned pokemon singing and spatting poison out of their mouth, hurting his little fairy friends.

"Oh whats with you today" The white haired boy murmured under his breath, looking at his rotom phone and deciding to call you. Sure he has thought of the many possibilities of you being busy due to your new Champion of Galar title, but never even once you bailed him like this— or so he thought.

A heavy string of huffing was heard on the other side of the phone, which makes Bede rise his eyebrow and question about what in Galar are you doing at the moment. His mouth stayed shut while waiting for you to ramble out your explanation, well, an explanation he deserves to know.

Why you ask? Because beneath that smug exterior of his, he's deeply concerned when it comes to you. Tell him a fake information that you've been defeated by some random kid and he'll immediately abandon his gym, looking all pissed and irritated as he stomp his way out of the place. Oh what he wouldn't do just to see your smile.

Though, would he admit that? No, even in the name of Arceus, he wont.

Then, finally you answered with voice indicating that you're slightly tired, "Oh, uh, B-Bede!!" You exclaimed, trying to sound as alright as you could. He could hear you dusting your clothes as you speak, Cinderace in the background chirping with other pokemon playing around the area. Oh boy, you have a lot of explaining to do.

The white haired boy tapped his foot against the ground , waiting for you to finish your sentence. He also asked his Galarian Rapidash to track your scent down, and lead him to you, in the most quickest way possible. You're probably having trouble with your pokemon again, or getting surrounded by your fans, one of the two.

Still, its most likely you're experiencing the first scenario, looking at how you're more active in the wild area rather than in cities. "Enough said, im going where you are right now," Bede said in a stern tone, making your eyes widen a tad bit. You didn't even get the chance to explain to him! You only greeted him and yet he's going to visit where you are right now? Holy Suicune, you're a mess.

"Stay there, dont move"

A sigh slipped past your lips as Bede hung up. Better get going and make yourself somewhat decent then. You were chasing a Galarian Zapdos, one of the legendary bird trio and it didn't go well. The lightning avian clearly lived up to its name by having a lightning speed under it's wings, which made you tumble down your bike a few times while trying to get close to the said legendary pokemon.

It's worth it though, now Zapdos is right infront of you with a soothe bell tied loosely around it's neck, lowering it's head down waiting for you to give it affection. Its cute really, and you wondered if Bede will like this newly captured pokemon of yours. On the other hand, he might not like the scratches you got from falling off your bike, and tripping over baby pokemons— no worries, no pokemon were harmed during this process of capturing Zapdos.

Of course it hurts when you tried to patch your wounds up, some of it were caused by the legendary electric bird itself as you were trying your best not to harm the said pokemon in the process of capturing it. Zapdos did express concern over you when it saw you slightly in a pinch trying to capture it though, and it tried to make you feel better by occassional nuzzling against you, sparking electricity in your hair.

Its never a dull moment in the wild area, Really.

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Half an hour passed and your said knight in shining armo— i mean Bede- Bede finally arrived with his Galarian Rapidash.

His eyes widened the moment he saw you visibly being a mess, not minding about the legendary pokemon thats taking a seat beside you as an act of cheering you up. He looks irritated, annoyed and slightly pissed when he saw you not taking care of yourself properly— you never did, you're careless, the wounds will heal anyways and your pokemon will help it heal, thats why you didn't mind it much.

The fairy type gym leader immediately makes his way to you as his Rapidash follows close behind him, incase he needed assistance.

"You...What happened?"

Bede lifted your left arm up as you faced him while he was examining your wounds. You stayed quiet until he looks up at you again, Violet eyes locking with yours for a brief moment.

You didn't answer his question and you simply gestured at the legendary bird pokemon beside you, no other explanation can be better that that anyways, and you're not in the mood to waste your energy by talking too much.

Bede blinked a few times as he finally recognized that you have captured a Galarian Zapdos, the Galarian Zapdos that's said to rule over thunderstorms and making a nest between the electrifying clouds right before a storm starts. Basically the Zeus of Galar, if you will. He was quite amused to say the least, though he didn't expect less from the Champion, but risking your life just to capture a legendary? Yup, thats his rival alright, you and and that reckless stubborn head of yours, not to mention you're often oblivious to Bede's acts of care and affection, resulting in the white haired boy blushing intensely.

A sigh slipped past Bede's lips as he rubbed a potion over your wound, followed by a hiss of pain from your side. You wanted to yank your hand off his hold, "Bede, its alright, i can take care of myself" you muttered as you watched the male infront of you carefully spreading the healing liquid over your wounds, trying his best not to hurt you by doing so.

His Violet eyes looked up at you, then looked back down on your wound, not caring about your complaints.

"Let me take care of you," He said as he was preventing the subtle blush from slowly dusting his milky white cheeks; his fingers that were gently massaging that one specific area on your arm stopped before he checked for your other arm- which, you obliged and gave him your other arm to inspect without any hesitation.

What surprised you the most is that he muttered out those six specific words. The words that you thought would never leave past his lips whatsoever, and yet here you are sitting on a giant rock with him treating your wounds from before as he insisted on taking care of you.

Why does he care so much?

"Bede i said—" before you could continue his sentence, his grip on your arm suddenly tightened by a bit, afraid of you yanking your arm off.

"I want to take care of you." the tone he was using was so sweet, so kind and sincere as if its not Bede who said that; it was slightly shaky too, probably caused by him gradually becoming even more flustered by his honest feelings. This only made you smile warmly, seeing how well Bede is taking care of you— you just remembered that you two are supposed to be in the Fairy Type gym by now, helping the said gym leader with handling the oncoming bundles of challengers.

You, being the oblivious Champion that you are, laughed softly and nudged your cheek against his in an affectionately way while saying a light-hearted thank you along the way. You let the boy take care of you and your wounds as Zapdos stayed quiet by your side, observing the two of you and your actions. You're completely calm and amazed by Bede's knowledge when it comes to potions and healing stuff. Maybe you should learn a few things from him after this then.

Bede on the other hand was a complete mess. Oh how the tables have turned. Your little action of nuzzling against his cheek made him turn beet red; various shades of red covering his cheeks and spreading towards his ears. He avoided any eye contact with you, he knew better than to say anything and embarrass himself even more on the spot, so he stayed quiet, and let you do your silly little affectionate actions. He enjoyed it anyways— not that he'd admit it.

"D-dont do that so sudden next time."

He managed to croak out, voice slightly different from before caused by the amount of blood rushing to his face and ears, not to mention his heart thumping loudly in his chest. Arceus- this feeling is so sickeningly lovely, he hated it, and yet he also loved it. You replied with a soft 'Mhm' before he continues to treat your wounds.

Oh its never a dull moment with you.

[a-day-in-the-afterlife]

14th Department Outdoor Survival Competition: Mane

This has been in my head for 1344657856 years, so I’m going to post it on Tumblr, even though I had planned to write it in prose and post it on AO3 and link it here (which I will do, eventually!).  

The basic premise is that the Manager takes the entire 14th Department on a camping trip and challenges them to survive on their own in the wilderness for a week.  Whichever team wins (survives the best???) will get some kind of prize involving patrol/cleaning/farm-care exemption!

I think we all know which team will win (... Noctu literally has the most survival-obsessed characters in Aitachi and Kirr), but it’s fun to see all the shenanigans of all the other teams, too!

First we start with Mane!

Ell

Tries his best, really, but as per the usual, makes so many mistakes.

When trying to put up the tent made from some kind of tarp that Ghilley procured from somewhere, he cheerfully hammers all the stakes and his teammates fingers into the ground on accident.

Does not know how they are going to survive for a week in a random tarp, but sneezingly assures Ghilley that they most certainly will succeed.

Attempted to fish for food in a nearby stream!  Caught three itty-bitty minnows and will not be attempting that again as he fell into the water more than once.

So, he was right and the tarp Ghilley found did not last them more than a day due to heavy rainfall and wind, but he kind of liked sleeping under the stars and staring up into the heavenly hosts until Ghilley and Licht constructed a mini lodge of sorts.

(He could do without Licht’s snoring and on more than one occasion went for a walk in the middle of the night to “clear his mind, achoo!”)

Was congratulated by his team for realizing that the stream that he (and some of the others) fished in was indeed freshwater and they didn’t have to scope out any other source.

Jamie

The rest of the Morning Team sent him out to hunt, since in typical Disney Princess style, animals flock to him, but after spending four hours in the forest, he came back with nothing, because “why in the world would y’all think that I’d wanna hurt any of those cute lil’ critters!”

Mane forgot to tie up their food and put in a tree in case a hungry bear came along—which it did—but everything turned out all right, because Jamie apparently is a bear-whisperer and gently coaxed it to find food elsewhere and not disturb them.

Tried to plant some fruit seeds that they had leftover (since they couldn’t hunt under Jamie’s orders and had to survive on fruit and fish—the latter of which he was not happy about, but conceded to, anyway), and Ell didn’t have the heart to tell him that there’s (hopefully) no way that they’d still be there when they sprouted.

Is the only one on the team that is able to discern which plants are edible and which ones are not, which is great, because Licht almost ate a bough of poison ivy.

When cooking the team’s fish, he managed to make a nice salad to go along with it with all the greenery he’d picked from the forest.

Discovered an immense talent for comparing the clouds in the sky to various foodstuffs and the Manager.

Licht

Ghilley told him to scout the forest for edible plants, and he obeyed with great alacrity, valiantly coming home with several branches of poisonous plants and berries.  “But darling~they look too pretty to be poisonous!”

Went fishing with Ell and caught a decent-sized fish.  He was incredibly distraught when he watched Ghilley descale it, for it looked ugly after losing its glamorous silver scale coat.

Tried to fight the bear that tried to steal the Morning Team’s food and ended up fighting Jamie, who wouldn’t let him lay a finger on it, instead. (Jamie is weirdly strong and left him lying in the ground; Ghilley had to peel him off the grass.)

He and Jamie reconciled when he let Jamie sleep in the best place in the tent, which he had previously declared for himself.

Ghilley and him together built an amazing (read: really, really, really mediocre) log cabin when their tarp tent gave out and they decided that they needed new housing in case another storm blew past.  It was four feet by three feet and could barely hold the four of them.

Thought he looked very handsome picking berries and longed for the Manager to watch him doing so.

Flirted with a twisted tree, thinking it was a curvaceous girl.

Ghilley

Do not ask him where he got the tarp the team had originally used as a tent, because he will just smile and say, “Ufufufu, that is for me to know, and for you to find out.”

Would’ve made a great stealth hunter in the woods, but Jamie refused to let him kill a single animal.  

Was kind of disheartened by the failure of his tent, so he worked extra hard with Licht to build a sturdier lodge for Mane.

Very attached to his team and in general, worked his ass off to make things somewhat easier for them, even though no one noticed or realized.

Wondered why the hell Licht was picking berries so provocatively. 

Watered Jamie’s plants diligently.

Went fishing with Ell too and actually caught several fish.  It turns out he’s extremely good at sneaking up on aquatic creatures, too!

Used up half the water in the stream when washing his hair.

Was going to go sneak up on the other teams and see how they were faring, but Jamie and Ell reminded him constantly that that was strictly against the rules.

Encouraged the rest of the team to go cloud-watching with him.  Found out that all the clouds for some reason looked like clouds.  

I’m going to forget to update this with all the other parts, so please take a look at my masterlist for the other teams’ posts!

[lovelybunny08]

The Backroom

♡ Pairing- Yoongi X Reader

♡ Genre- Smut, doctor, fingering

♡Description- What happens when one of your fantasy comes true 

♡ Again thank you @artofediting for editing all my story. Seriously love you I dont know what I will do without you.😭😭 

♡ Word Count- 3,058

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Your job at the hospital is ER patient registration. It is rather straightforward occupation: register the patient when they come into the emergency room. Nothing more, nothing less. In most circumstances, it would be an easy job…but you’re not in most circumstances considering that the hospital you’re employed at is located downtown, only a few blocks away from a long strip of somewhat questionable bars and nightclubs. The daytime shifts were normally easygoing; the only complications being the odd day here and there where the ER would overflow with patients from minor ailments. Now, that was the daytime shift, but working the overnight shift (especially on weekends) was a different story. You can account for several times in which patients were so incredible intoxicated that you had to repeatedly remind them of their location followed by why they were there. Furthermore, attempting to register drunk patients into the ER was like talking to a toddler: a lot of babbling and no clear answers. Due to this, finishing your charts was next to impossible and the minutes dragged into eternity. You would do anything for a distraction…

…and wow, did your hospital always deliver.

The one piece of excitement to break up the registering monotony was the attending physician on call: Dr. Min. You never spoke a word to him, preferring to ogle him like every other female employee (and more often than not, the patients too). He was strikingly beautiful with slightly mussed blond hair and penetrating eyes softened by his gummy smile. He was physically astonishing, yes, but you also recognized that he was one of the only attendings that treated all the hospital employees equally. Although, there was one particular feature that plagued your mind most nights: his hands. The way his wide palms flooded into his long and firm fingers made arguing with the drunks worthwhile. Only God above knows how often you imagined those hands grasping your neck. As if to entertain your prayers, you have been blessed in that Dr. Min always works the overnight shifts for some unholy reason. At this point you’ve convinced yourself that that ethereal being is the only reason you continue working the overnight sift; otherwise you would have saved yourself countless hours of sleep and frustration.  

Snapping out of your recollection, you shake your head a little and look at the clock in the ER as it strikes 10 a.m. Your back was already aching in the creaky chair with you share a love/hate relationship. You had begun your day shift at 6 a.m., only to take on the night shift as well when one of your co-workers begged you to change with them. Being the ever-so kind and honestly broke soul that you are, you take it without a lot of convincing. Your eyes wondered about the relatively empty waiting room as you calculated how you would spend the five hours between your dayshift and overnight shift. You settle upon going home to take a shower and hopefully a short nap. Before you started drooling over the thought of your bed, the irritating squeak of a soccer mom with her cleated-up son snatched your attention. You huff as you fall into your chair and pull up a new registration form. You plaster the most convincing smile you can as you address her, “Yes ma’am, can I have the patient’s name please?”

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You awake to the blaring of your alarm and nearly throw your phone against the wall. You rub the sleep out of your eyes as you attempt to come out of the coma of a nap you fell into. You dress yourself in black work pants and a nice white shirt, at work you were required to wear business attire. You stumble to the bathroom to make yourself look somewhat presentable. Drunk people were brutally honest, and you had gotten enough rude comments about your tired appearance in the past. You make yourself some coffee and grab an apple as you head off for your overnight shift.  

You clock in at the hospital at 22: 30 sharp and begin to settle in at the desk to get your “day” started. After a few hours, you were surprised with how calm the shift had gone thus far. Granted, it was a weekday and people didn’t tend to drink and go as hard as they would on the weekends. You were currently taking a short break in the back room behind the desk when you hear a knock at the door. Your eyes flip to a computer on the counter expecting to see an alert for a patient needing to be registered. When no such notification appeared, your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Another knock on the door drags your feet underneath you as you go to open the door. With widened eyes and a sucked in breath (can’t believe your body betrayed you), you greet the captivating gaze of Dr. Min. Realizing that you were just standing their gawking (good job being subtle), you address him.

“Oh-uh, hi, Dr. Min. Is there a patient I need to register?” You don’t fail to notice his deft fingers gripping a coffee cup in one hand. You mentally wipe your drool when he smiles at you and peers down at you.  

“No, I just came here to bring you some coffee.” He responded, waiting for you to take the steaming black liquid.  

You take the coffee with a grateful smile. You continue to stare at each other awkwardly until you realize that he’s waiting for you to let him into the room. In your haste, your slosh the scalding liquid on your hand as you pull the door open wider. You muffle a small yelp and watch curiously as he looks around the small space. The backroom was better described as a spacious closet with a couple chairs in the corner next to a counter in the back corner and a small bed lining a wall for the employees to rest when they have a break. The only other piece of furniture was a small cabinet next to the door where employees often kept little snacks and such. A computer which monitors patients waiting to be registered sits atop the small counter. There were no windows, only another door at the other end of the room which led to a small supply closet. You both make your way across the room and settle into the two chairs.  

“I haven’t seen you in a while.” His voice startled you when he interrupted the silence.

“Oh, well I’ve been working more of the morning shifts recently. I’m in charge of training new hires to do outpatient registration and insurance verification.” Gah, you sound lame.

“Then congratulations.” Dr. Min responded, taking a sip of his own coffee.

“Thank you, Dr. Mi—"

“—Please call me Yoongi” he interrupted. Fuck, if you could only manage to stop staring at his hands long enough to come up with something decent to add to the conversation. You were pathetic honestly. Too distracted by a simple appendage that you had yourself…oh, but not like his. You felt yourself growing wet just from wandering how good and different his fingers would feel deep inside your p—  

“—So I won’t be able to see that pretty face as often?” Interrupted again damn it.  

You blush fiercely “Huh? Oh, uh, well-no. No, not really, only if they need me to work overtime, or I cover someone’s shift…” This time your eyes lock onto the way he runs his thumb across his lower lip, and you lick your own lips from pure instinct.  

“So, let me ask you this…’ Yoongi starts, with a deeper drawl to his voice. “Why do you keep looking at my hands?” You choke slightly from two things. The first, being that he caught you. The second, to keep yourself from shouting that you are indeed staring because you’d like to try on his hand as a new necklace. You cover up best you can.

“I-uh, have always wondered if you play the piano because you have long fingers?” FUCK, you suck at this. I mean yes, that has been a passing thought, but there was no way he would buy that. He smirks at your flustered state.

“Hmmm, is that truly what you were wondering?” He says with knowing eyes. “The answer is easy then. I’ve played piano since I was young and have kept it up because it—relaxes—me.” He whispers the last words, giving you a pointed stare as he drags your chair closer to his. “Now, I’m no detective, but most people don’t blush and rub their thighs when they think of piano playing. Try again. Tell me what you’re actually thinking.” You can feel his thighs pressing against yours, but you can’t break his stare when your faces are mere inches apart. However, when you feel his hand (HIS HAND) make its journey across his thighs and onto your own, your eyes fly down to the point of contact. At your action, Yoongi moves both his palms onto your knees and slowly begins dragging them upwards. Licking his lips, he leans across until his breath on your ear sends chills down your spine.  

“You can tell me, dear,” he drawls in a low, sexy voice.

At this, you stilled completely. What was even going on? Where was this coming from? Wait, what were you thinking?? The most eligible bachelor in the entire hospital was hitting on you and you’re questioning it? Within seconds, you come to the conclusion that while you may still wake up from this dream at any moment, you didn’t want to waste the opportunity. With a newfound courage, you lock eyes with Yoongi.  

“I want you to choke me with your hands,” his grip on your thighs tighten, “and I want your fingers deep inside me.” You’re blushing fiercely, but your stare doesn’t waver. His lips turn up in a smirk at your juxtaposed reaction. The next few seconds turn into complete chaos.

“Now we’re getting somewhere,” Yoongi growls.

Next thing you know, one of his hands are tangling into your hair as he pulls you in by your neck to crush your lips against his. You only take a second for shock before you’re kissing him back just as eagerly. The kiss was aggressive but controlled, passionate but dominant as well. You chucked internally because of c o u r s e that’s how he kisses. You soon feel his tongue skimming against your lips, demanding entrance. Without objection, a groan escapes you as his tongue overcomes you, eager to conquer its newfound territory. However, just as you placed one of your hands on his chest, he abruptly pulls away. He steps his way across the room reaching for the door. For a split second you panic, thinking that you had done something wrong that made him want to leave. Just when you’re about to call out to him, his fingers find the doorknob and turn the lock. He turns back around to be faced with your shiny swollen lips and confused expression. He leans back against the door and answers the silent question in your eyes.

“It’s safer to make sure that no one will be able to walk in on us. You wouldn’t want any eyes peering, now would you kitten?” His gives you a small smirk which is quickly replaced by his darkening gaze. “Now get on the bed.”

You’re pretty sure your heart stopped completely at the pet name, but the increasing need for his touch reminded you to follow his demand. You quickly make your way over to sit on the edge of the bed, fingers fidgeting with the hem of your shirt. Seemingly pleased with your eager obedience, he strolls to come stand over you. Grabbing your jaw with his hand, he forced you to look up at him. “Are you sure this is what you want, kitten?”

It was obvious he knew the effect that name had on you as he lets out a small chuckle when you start rubbing your thighs together, desperate for any relief. He immediately stops your feeble attempts by slotting his leg in between your thighs.  

“I’ll help you, but I need a definite answer,” Yoongi glowered.

“Yes! Yes, gah please Yoongi,” you whine. You no longer care how desperate you sounded. You needed his hands on you. In response, he leans down to capture your lips with his, tongues intertwining immediately. He then begins to lean you backwards, crawling over you until your back is flat against the bed. With his thigh still between your legs and his mouth moving to suck on your neck, he takes the hand he’s not using for support and slowly begins to trail it until he’s gripping the bottom of your scrub top. He sucks harder at your neck as his hand moves its way back up your body, this time dragging your shirt along with it. Once he finally pulls the shirt off and over your head, he pulls farther away to take in the sight of you in your bra.  

“Just beautiful,” Yoongi whispers.  

While the small break did wonders for your ego, he returns to nibbling on your lips, your neck, your collarbone, anywhere he could bite onto. As soon as he unclasps and does away with your bra, He moves downward to pull a nipple into his mouth. You arch your back and let out a breathy moan as your hands fly to pull at the roots of his hair.  

“Oh my god, please Yoongi. I-I need—” you gasp. He releases your nipple with a pop.  

“Oh, does my kitten want more?” he responds with a sly grin.  

He then descends again to work on your other breast as one of his heavenly hands travels down to undo the buttons of your pants. Without warning or help, he yanks down your pants and continues to drag them off until they are discarded somewhere on the floor. He sucks in a breath at the sight of your white lace panties.  

“Fuck” he nearly moans.  

He rises above you onto his knees to strip himself of his white coat and scrub top. Your eyes nearly roll into the back of your skull as you take in the sheer expanse of his flawless skin. Not allowing you much time to appraise him, he slides off your panties as those too join the abyss of discarded clothing. He groans when he sees the glistening on the inside of your thighs and can no longer hold control himself.  

As he crawls back on top of you, he captures both of your wrists with one hand in a tight hold above your head. Sucking on your body, leaving small purple bruises as he whispers sweet words of praise. He once more sucks your tongue into his mouth and kisses you deeply before he descends once more, pushing himself backward down the bed as he pulls your legs apart. His hands massage the inside of your thighs for a few moments before you suddenly feel his lips wrap around your clit. You scream out as one of your hands fly from above your head to pull at his hair. He groans at the response and the vibrations only spur you on further. Moans and encouraging pleas fall from your lips as he continues to ravage you as if he will never have another chance. Before long, he slides two of his long fingers deep inside you, beginning a scissoring motion as he slides them in and out ruthlessly. Unsurprisingly, it only takes seconds before he finds that special spot and has your body arching off the bed and you begging for release.  

“Yoongi, I’m sooo close" you moaned as your hand moves to dig your nails into his shoulder. He releases your clit and crawls upward, tongues clashing as he gives you a sloppy kiss; all while maintaining the merciless pace he had set with his fingers.  

“Fuck, you look so good like this, falling apart on my fingers” Yoongi moaned, impossibly increasing the speed at which he pumped his fingers inside of you. He leans in close to your ear to whisper,

“C’mon kitten, cum for me. Cum all over these hands you love so much.”

His words send you over the edge and your vision goes white as you cum harder than you have in months. He coaxes you through your orgasm, softly kissing you and purring more words of encouragement. Once you began to twitch from oversensitivity, he pulls his fingers out of you only to bring them up to his lips and suck them clean. Both of you come crashing back to reality; however, when his beeper begins to go off. He lets out a huff as he pulls off of you and goes to retrieve the device from his coat. After checking the message, he begins to pick his scrubs off the floor and dress himself.  

“One of my patients is suffering from tachycardia and the nurse wants me to make sure it’s nothing serious” he explains.

“Oh, I understand that. You’re a doctor, there’s always going to be someone who needs your help,” you flash him a cheesy grin in response to his eyeroll. After he finishes dressing, he gathers your clothes off the floor and hands them to you and he grips you and kisses you one more time. He pulls away after nibbling on your bottom lip and walks over to the door. He shoots you once last glance as he unlocks the door.

“Since you say that, you know I’d be more than willing to offer my services to—help—you anytime,” he winks, and before you could respond, he disappears back into the hallway, leaving you dumbfounded but satisfied. You felt like a proud scientist after their hypothesis is proved correct. His hands really were talented for more than just medical purposes. With that lasting thought, you throw your clothes on and return to the desk outside, acting as if you had merely taken a short nap. A short nap that left you with a stupid grin on your face and swollen lips. Yeah, you would definitely be requiring the services of the overnight attending from now on.  

[jackidy]

Saturated Sunrise

Rating: G Pairings: Demyx/Ienzo, others implied Characters: Various Setting: Post KH3

Summary: Observations were his thing and, in all honesty, Ienzo was a very interesting person to observe.

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

Ienzo was strange.

Not in a bad way, Demyx thinks, watching the other flip through lab notes for something that he’d explained at least three times already, distracted by far too many things to take in most of the words. How could he not be? Recognisance had always been his forte, few people ever spent too long looking at strange folk with instruments playing for change in the town square, regardless of what world he was observing, it was always the same.

But now…but now he didn’t have an instrument to distract his fingertips, watching how something deeper than annoyance flickered onto Ienzo’s features, eyes break from the hastily scrawled pages of a report to the offended hand before back to his reading, muttering something quietly under his breath.

He’s switched his breathing, in through the nose, out through the mouth. A calming technique. Was Ienzo anxious or something else? Demyx cocking his head to the side as he tried to figure out his new found puzzle. As Zexion, he’d simply fix him a flat stare and sigh to exhibit his annoyance with him, name him a fool and go back to ignoring him but with Ienzo it was different, his reactions more extreme in the short term before simmering off into seemingly nothing.

Demyx wanted to know more.

Wants to know the differences between the two, were they as similar as Axel and Lea or were they the polar opposite, Ienzo had already provided evidence for this. The shock of seeing him and the hesitation to move forward, the way he’d cried when reunited with his father, it was different but good, an unexpected surprise that had only served to hook him in.

Perhaps its selfish to want more, Demyx contemplates, deciding to put his focus elsewhere, the computer he’d more or less draped himself across, the tea stain on Ienzo’s lab coat on the cuff of his left sleeve, maybe even the black screens on the other side of the lab that had put themselves to sleep about twenty minute ago. Anywhere other than Ienzo before his mind started to-

“You keep frowning like that and I’ll start to think you’re not Demyx.”

“Huh?”

“You’ve been quiet for thirty minutes and now you’re frowning at nothing.” He teases, Demyx enraptured by the small, almost shy smile on the other’s lips to the point he forgets to react to the comment, seeming frozen in time as he takes it in. Oh, he could get used to Ienzo smiling at him like that oh too easily Demyx staring dumbfoundedly as Ienzo spoke again only for nothing to register, Ienzo raising a brow at him as that smile almost, almost, broke into a grin.

“What did you say Zex- I mean Ienzo, I didn’t hear you.”

“Nothing important.”

He’s teasing him again, standing from the desk and stretching, a resounding crack that made Demyx wince whilst Ienzo just sighed, as if relieved to hear it as opposed to somewhat horrified. “I think…I think I need a cup of tea; I’ll be back shortly. Please don’t touch anything.”

And he doesn’t. He just sits and watches the way Ienzo goes, wondering if he had missed truly was important or not.

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

It becomes routine, after a while, for Demyx to come by the lab after he’d finished his rounds, watching the shorter man as he worked, making mental note after mental note of the little changes in emotion and watching for the flashes, as Demyx now referred to them.

Fleeting yet fascinating, it feels strange this role reversal, where Demyx becomes the scientist and Ienzo the unknowing test subject, watching anger flash in blue eyes before resigning quickly to neutrality and ultimately to something sadder, guilt perhaps? Demyx had felt it enough himself but had never really seen it worn by someone else so clearly.

“You need a break.” He states, eyes flicking up from the screen to fix the Nobody with a reluctant stare, looking torn between arguing against the request and accepting it, pale hands coming up to Ienzo’s neck, picking at something just hidden by the collar. Another new thing he’d noticed, he picks at his neck when nervous or overloaded, Demyx contemplating stepping down before shaking his head. “A small break might clear your head and help you think straight.”

Ienzo snorts, rolling his eyes insolently like he’d heard this a thousand times before, no doubt from Aeleus or Even, the latter always seeming to hover around like a mother hen whenever the older scientist was with Ienzo, seemingly unaware of Demyx’s presence or, the more likely, choosing to ignore him all together. But still, the young man gets up, shedding his lab coat before discarding it on his chair and walking away from the desk, pausing to turn only when he didn’t hear following footsteps.

“Well?”

“Well what?”

He clicks his tongue, fixing Demyx with a stare only a fraction less intense than something Zexion would wear when scolding him. “You, me, break.” Short and sweet, straight to the point with little room to argue, not that Demyx ever would have, scrambling upwards to his feet, practically bouncing along with Ienzo to first the kitchen and then the gardens.

They take seat by a wall fountain, the stress in Ienzo seeming to melt away with the sound of the flowing water, slouching against the cold wall and nursing the cup of tea in his hands like it was the only thing still tethering the scientist to the mortal coil. He looks younger somehow, pinning his hair back with one hand as he sipped his tea, the slight breeze seemingly an ever-present threat to tarnishing both Ienzo’s drink and hair.

“You know, I could probably get you a headband or some clips after my next shift.”

“Wouldn’t want to be a bother.”

You’re never a bother, he thinks, a thought and belief he’s held for long enough now that he’s fairly certain it was incapable of changing into anything but. He’s talking again, eyes lighting up with almost childlike curiosity as Ienzo talks about his latest project, the thing that had been bothering up until the point Demyx had requested he take a break.

“Aerith asked me to look for someone.” The flower girl, a sweet woman who always brought flowers into the office when he dropped by to pick up the mail for the day, the only person he’d seen so far that could lecture his new boss on something without the Blonde glaring as fiercely at her as he had done with any irate customer who came in to complain about a delay or lost delivery. “Something about your boss and an old friend.”

“He has friends?” It’s a jest and he’s thankful when Ienzo smiles at it, unsure of it the younger man had ever met his grumpy boss, Cloud, to fully grasp the concept. Probably not, he only left the lab to eat, sleep and when someone bothered him enough to get out of his chair but, even then, he only went as far as the gardens. “I thought finding someone would be easy, you’ve got the database all set up, right?”

“Right but…” Ienzo pauses, the guilt creeping bag in as he seemingly sags under the weight of it, “but most of them are on world or I have a decent description of. I only have a name to go by and the barest hope that maybe one of the keyblade wielders has heard of him.”

Again, he’s scratching at his neck, frowning at the flowers opposite the pair almost intense enough to make them wilt under the seer force of it. A distraction, perhaps, to get his mind off of the thoughts of anxious and inadequacy that were surely plaguing him. “It’s a weird name don’t you think?”

“What is?”

“Cloud.”

There’s a pause, Ienzo freezing before he laughs, genuinely, Demyx struck by just how magical it sounded as shoulders quaked, racked by humour. He wants to hear this again, never thinking that he’d ever get the other to laugh so mirthfully, Ienzo wiping his face before fitting Demyx with a look like he was about to break down into giggles at any moment.

“Really?”

“Well yeah, it’s a dumb name”

“Your name is Demyx.”

“I didn’t pick my name!”

He starts laughing again, leaning against Demyx this time as he tried to temper the amusement down, covering his mouth as giggles threatened to bubble up all over again. “I don’t think he picked his name either, besides people in glass houses should not be throwing bricks.”

“I will throw bricks and stand proudly in the shattered remains of my hypocrisy.”

Ienzo is silent for perhaps a moment too long, Demyx shifting unconsciously under the gaze before shrugging and laughing to himself again. “I never knew you to be so eloquent.” It feels like a compliment so he’ll take it, Demyx hating the bubbling embarrassment at the other’s words, wondering if there would ever be a moment he doesn’t fluster at praise. It didn’t have to be from Ienzo, he’d nearly crumbled under the kind words of an elderly lady over a simple flower delivery.

“Might have picked up a thing or two from some guy I know.” He huffs, hoping Ienzo doesn’t pursue the subject and, much to Demyx’s relief, he doesn’t, simply humming and sipping his tea, a silence descending on the pair that is neither uncomfortable or stifling, just he sound of birds, the town below and the pouring water of the fountain acting as the only thing rupturing the otherwise serene silence.

The scientist is still leaning against him, Demyx choosing not to focus on the proximity, the way Ienzo seemed to fit just right there or the way the cavity in his chest seemed to thud, the echoing thunder within it hopefully not that noticeable either on his face or to the man leant against him. It might have been just minutes but, honestly, Demyx wishes it had been hours, Ienzo finally removing himself from Demyx to stand, offering a hand to the other.

“Thank you.”

“What for?”

“Making me take a break and listening.”

He takes Ienzo’s hand then, pushing himself up more than letting the other pull him up but he finds he doesn’t mind, hesitating before letting go of the hand in his and mentally cursing himself as Ienzo, seemingly oblivious, made his way back to the castle without him. So much for observing his emotional changes, Demyx conceded, running a hand through his hair and refraining from just pulling at it. It’ll be fine, he supposes, following after Ienzo slowly as he attempted to get his thoughts together.

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

They meet outside the lab for once, Demyx finding the scientist in the kitchen as opposed to his usual place, lab coat abandoned once more in favour for an apron, the Nobody wondering how long he could linger in the doorway before Ienzo spoke up and summoned him forward. Maybe a while, he thinks, laughing under his breath, Ienzo was by no means unobservant but often lost himself in things, leaving him open to surprise on an almost regular basis.

His observations have become interesting, to say the least, notebook now brimming with excerpts and examples of how Ienzo reacted to things and how they differed from a typical human. Examples of how he’d exploded at Even in an argument the week before and how he’d crumpled as soon as he was away from the older scientist, looking to Demyx of all creatures to help him assess how he’d reacted.

A Human asking a Nobody how to feel, life truly was stranger than fiction.

“You know it’s rude to stare.” So Ienzo had noticed him, a small smile betraying the amusement the smaller man had in interrupting whatever it as that Demyx was thinking about. He’s wearing the headband that Demyx brought him, an admittedly joke purchase of the most ocean-based thing he could find in Radiant Garden, never expecting Ienzo to ever wear and yet, here they were, clownfish still visible even with the mass of hair doing its best to obscure it.

“Just thinking.” No lie to his words but not exactly a full truth either, Ienzo giving him an almost sceptical look before turning back to the chopping board, ignoring the blonde in favour of some shallots and garlic. Coming over to the join the other, Demyx takes seat at the worn kitchen table, far enough to be out of Ienzo’s space but close enough to notice the changes in body language, perhaps for the best considering his upcoming questions.

“Don’t strain yourself.” Ienzo retorts without hesitation, a small bounce in his step as he scraped the food from the chopping board into the frying pan, stirring once then twice before turning his attention back to the pile of ingredients nearby. “Should I even ask what about?”

“You, actually.”

Had he meant to be so honest? Demyx has no idea, biting his lip as he waited for Ienzo to react. Would he laugh or sneer? What response was he due to receive from the scientist who was simultaneously an open book and an enigma to him? He’s not entirely sure he wants to find out now that the silence has dragged on.

“Oh?”

“Yeah, about the conversation we had the other day.”

The silence is back, nothing but the sizzling of oil filling the air as Ienzo fell still, as if Demyx’s words had short circuited him, only moving when food began to catch, quickly chopping the rest of the meat on his board before adding it, a shaky breath before hands are under the tap. “I thought…we’re less likely to be interrupted in here, aren’t we?”

He’s never been here when Ienzo is cooking but he knows the labs and gardens at least always lead to another apprentice making an appearance and, if not them, then a keyblade wielder or former colleague that only served to quickly change the subject into something less important or for their conversations to die all together. Maybe Ienzo’s room but then, no, it wouldn’t do, someone would still interrupt them there.

“Yes but…” Ienzo trails off, rubbing his hands a little too harshly dry and swallowing, looking almost like a lost child as he looked between the stove and the kitchen table. “But I’m not sure if I…”

Demyx is ready for it this time, grasping the hand as it comes up to his neck, weaving fingers together where possible and giving his hand a light squeeze. Were his hands always this cold? Demyx wonders, taking in the shocked look of Ienzo and offering a small smile in response. No time for grins or quips, just open expressions and apprehension, pans moved off the heat before the smaller man can further burn his food. “We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to, not until you’re ready.”

A tanned thumb rubs lines into the side of a pale palm, the focus back on breathing correctly in a bid to calm nerves and settle his old soul, Demyx watching as eyes closed and breaths came in slowly, a face slowly easing back into calmness after painting a picture so anxious it tugged and tangled his heart strings. He could kiss him, lord knows she wants to, biting his lower lip as he went over why that would be a bad idea over and over again, an inner mantra that he could not ignore.

He’ll be mad at you. He doesn’t feel the same way. He won’t want to be near you again after this.  Just because he’s nice to you and treats you humanely doesn’t mean he wants you.

Demyx has taken risks but this time, this time he’s not sure it was worth it.

“I want to I just…”

“You just can’t get it into words?” Demyx fills in, Ienzo sighing and nodding, finally opening his eyes only to avert them to the side, face screwing as if trying to process a thought before Ienzo sighs. Hit the nail on the head there, Demyx surmises, giving the other’s hand yet another squeeze in hope of either encouraging him to speak or reassurance, which ever Ienzo had the most need for at that moment. “Or is it something else?”

“Something else. Maybe. I’m not honestly sure.” He pulls his hand away then, wiggling it out of his grasp and pulling the pan back onto the ring, breathing slowly, exhaling and continuing on like the exchange hadn’t just happened. It’s not long before the sizzling is back, Demyx feeling somewhat lost in the kitchen as he waits for Ienzo to do something, unsure as to where his sudden cowardice to chase the conversation had come from. “It’s easier to ramble my thoughts if I keep my hands busy.”

It clears up nothing and yet everything, Demyx’s mouth forming a small o as Ienzo hums, adding more ingredients to the pot, the tension in his shoulders seemingly melting away with every movement and stir.  

“I’ve gone from bare traces of feelings for so long that now that I feel them at the level I should, it almost feels like drowning. My annoyance is anger and my anger is loathing, my insecurities scream at me deafeningly during the long nights and the moments alone in the lab when I can’t find answers.” He whispers his words, barely audible over the hissing of oil meeting stock, Demyx about catching the sight of downturned eyes and the accompanying frown. “Things that bring me joy make my heart pound louder than sirens and bells, my excitement and happiness over the littlest of things exceeds expectations in displays that are hard to tamper down.”

He sighs, anger bubbling back to the surface, movements becoming jagged, aggressive almost as he spat out his next words. “It’s ridiculous, I’m not- “

“I don’t think its ridiculous.” Demyx intersects, hand taking rest on Ienzo’s forearm as the other freezes once more, biting into his lower lip in a way that looks a touch too painful but now wasn’t the time to lecture, not that Demyx would have done that anyway. “You’ve gone from drips to an over spilling sink, you’re bound to struggle.”

The laugh surprises him, somewhat strangled and a bit raw, like Ienzo is using it to hide another emotion entirely from spilling from his lips. “When did you start making sense?” He chokes out, the heel of his hand wiping his eyes, perhaps wishing he hadn’t pinned his hair back so entirely.

“I always have,” it’s just nobody ever cares to listen.

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

The market is simultaneously busy enough for him to blend into the crowd but also empty enough that he’s had the ability to occupy the bench by Aerith’s for a solid 40 minutes without being interrupted by anyone beyond the aforementioned shop keeper who had simply brought him a drink and left after asking him if he was okay, slipping a flower behind his ear before leaving after confirming he was.

There’s something unnerving about her, though what caused Demyx to feel on edge around her he couldn’t place, assuming it was down to how she always seemed to know what had, is and would happen in the foreseeable future if you so much as stepped within five feet of her, her comment of how he could always give the flower to his friend if he didn’t want it making Demyx ask himself if he was so obvious that this practical stranger had sussed him out already.

It’s been eight days since the kitchen confession, Demyx knowing he wasn’t intending to ignore Ienzo but his feet had led him to this bench as opposed to the castle, pouring over his notes on Ienzo’s emotional state and the table of differences he’d made between both Zexion and Ienzo. The table was simple, almost childlike, one worded differences in lists under a name and a poorly drawn doodle of both sides of the coin, Demyx cursing himself as he realises the small hearts he’d drawn as almost a halo around Ienzo.

Oh, he’s a fool, staring at the page, blinking rapidly as if trying to erase the obvious signs of his affection as if Ienzo would ever see his scrawled notes that he was the subject to. Why would he? Demyx knew better than to expose himself like this to anyone, never mind the other, already shuddering at the imagined looks of the other apprentices and the laughter of everyone else.

“Looks like a twelve year old when hair is pinned back…is that supposed to be me at the bottom?”

Demyx jumps, yelling as he sends his notebook flying, scrambling to catch it, preparing to turn and shout at whoever had surprise him only to falter and clamp his mouth shut at the sight of Ienzo, still leaning over slightly and looking only marginally apologetic for scarring him. He’s lucky he’s cute.

“Is what you?”

Acting oblivious is perhaps not his best move, Ienzo fixing him a look that is filled with scepticism as he undoubtedly sees through Demyx’s façade, taking seat beside Demyx on the bench, slouching as he sighed. It’s not stressed this time, relieved, ecstatic almost, barely able to hide the pride from his features, relaxing in the silence that stretched between them. “Anyway, what brings you down into Radiant Garden? You normally don’t leave the castle unless I bribe you.”

“I found him.” He’s not seen the other’s eyes ever light up like that before, Demyx leaning back slightly as Ienzo leaned towards him, almost blinded by the sheer enthusiasm. Normally he’d make a comment, tell Ienzo to calm down for a second but the saccharine hit of endorphins that seemed to be flooding the human’s system was simply too irresistible to try and dampen. “I found Zack Fair!”

That would explain the lack of fanfare that would have come from finding Sora, he supposes, Demyx looking over Ienzo’s shoulder to his work place, Cloud in conversation with Leon and Cid looking stressed, before looking back to Ienzo and swallowing. The urge to kiss him is back, seemingly stronger than ever. “Knew you could, where was he then?”

“Game Central Station. Can’t say I’ve heard of it either but I got a name match at least.”

He continues to talk, Demyx just watching how animated Ienzo became with every word over what the finding of a new world meant, explaining his work with such vigour that Demyx responds without thinking, tucking a flyaway piece of hair back where it belonged having dislodged itself during the enthusiasm. Fingers trail along a pale jaw, tilting Ienzo’s chin up, swallowing thickly as his movements came to a standstill.

Maybe he should kiss him, maybe it wouldn’t be a bad thing after all.

But, as with all things, he’s interrupted, wincing at Cloud calling his name before sighing, dumping his notebook into Ienzo’s hands unceremoniously, huffing as he stood before giving the other an apologetic look. “Sorry, duty calls.”

He’s going to regret giving Ienzo his notebook, isn’t he? Perhaps, but the flushed look of Ienzo was a fair enough trade for him, silently hoping he hadn’t ruined the one friendship he truly cared for.

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

Three days until he sees Ienzo again and, for once Demyx isn’t sure if he’s unhappy that it took so long or that the break hadn’t lasted longer, still fighting the urge to run as he stands in the courtyard, holding what felt like a suspiciously empty box, the fragile stickers slapped across the brown paper being the only thing stopping the Nobody from just shaking the package.

From off world too, memories of Marluxia mentioning the Kingdom of Corona when he was still with the Organisation and Xehanort, a place of flowers and a princess with long hair trapped in a tower. Half the other worlds sounded like fairy tales, myths and legends but then Demyx knew full well they were. The Underworld still made him shiver, an itch he just couldn’t scratch.

Which wielder sent it? He wonders, Aqua being the safest bet of the lot of them, having gained enough of an impression of her from those talking about her to know she seemed the type to send something between worlds. Though, why she had to address it to the lab and not somebody specific he does not know, Demyx glaring at the package like it had gravely insulted him before heading in.

Perhaps the lab would be empty, Ienzo may spend most of his time in there but not all of it. He’s on a tea break, Demyx reasons with himself, finally took the initiative on his limits as a person and acted before he over worked himself yet again. It had, in part, been the reason for Ienzo’s argument with Even and Demyx can only dream that the message Even had been trying to get across had stuck.

Apparently not, Demyx sighs with resignation.

Sat at his desk as opposed to a computer, Ienzo had, of course, elected to take his break not outside of the lab but still in it, one hand nursing a chipped cup of tea whilst the other tapped a pen against the note book he was writing in, taking a brief break to think before noting something down again.

Maybe if he’s quiet he won’t be noticed, his cowardice coming back full force in the face of his feelings and it’s ridiculous, he believes, knowing full well he would have kissed the other the last time he’d seen him had the pair not been interrupted. Depositing the box is not the issue, the pen he sends clattering to the floor is, the noise seeming to become the loudest thing in existence, echoing beyond the walls of the lab and maybe out into the town square.

“If this is how you are when you’re trying to be stealthy, I see why you were always on public reconnaissance.”

He teasing him, still looking down at whatever he’s working on but humour still pulls of his lips to create some endearing mix of a smile and a smirk. Only on Ienzo would he find that expression endearing. It wouldn’t be wrong of him to think that maybe Ienzo hadn’t read his notebook after all, Demyx edging closer akin to a caged animal, swallowing back his fear of the situation.

Ienzo hadn’t read it. Ienzo was not aware he’d kept a notebook on his emotional ticks. Ienzo hadn’t delved into an admittedly creepy book containing both his thoughts about the newly reformed human and the differences between both himself and Zexion.

Only he had.

Demyx pales as he sees the notebook open, swiftly turning on his heel and making way to leave only for a hand to stop him, gripping the back of his jacket tight enough to stop him but loose enough to let him leave if he wanted to. He doesn’t. Despite the shame and feeling of regret welling up in him as Ienzo continues to hold the back of his jacket in silence.

Should he break it or leave it hanging? A spike of panic rising in his chest as the hand gripping him tightens, mumbling an inward prayer to himself for a favourable outcome as the silence is finally shattered. “I added another column, you’re rather observant when you want to be.”

He…What?

Turning back to face Ienzo and his work, Demyx takes note of the additional page ripped out from elsewhere in the book and stuck in, creases along the tape where the page had been folded in to keep it from sticking out. So there was another one, Demyx just about able to make out the words Child Ienzo from chicken scrawl, biting back a laugh at both the way his writing was better than an apprentice of Ansem’s but also the words written.

Little Weirdo. Quiet. Shy. Withdrawn.

Words from the other apprentices no doubt, Demyx sure he could place who had said what from what he had known of them whilst in the Organisation. But before he can even voice his guesses he’s distracted by the small doodle at the bottom, better than his vague barely Ienzo or Zexion doodles, of what Demyx guesses to be a child Ienzo. Miniature lab coat, neutral if not sour expression and ice cream? He’d never taken Ienzo to have a sweet tooth.

“There was one other thing…” Ienzo’s voice is gentle, fingers pulling at the hemline of his sweater vest as he looked down from the desk to his lap, breathing in the nose and out the mouth as he always did whenever the anxiety seeped into his system.

This was it. This was the time of his rejection, Demyx preparing himself to act like it was nothing, just water off of a duck’s back and nothing to be concerned about. “Look, you don’t have to-“

“I don’t really have days off but Even and Ansem both force me to take the afternoon off on Tuesday and Friday.”

Demyx can’t see his face but he can see the colour creeping along the other’s neck, hands still wringing the sweaters hemline almost to the point of distortion and oh.

Oh!

It finally clicks, Demyx biting his lip to stop himself from shouting in triumph, leaning down in one fail swoop to press a kiss to Ienzo’s cheek as the giddy energy eviscerated any self-doubt and regret he’d been stewing in for the past three days. “Then I will see you tomorrow, Zo.” The skip in his step is unmissable, practically bouncing out of the lab to finish his round so he can plan for tomorrow.

And if Ienzo hears his shout of celebration as the lab doors close, he doesn’t mention it.

[aquietwritingcorner]

Author: RealityBreakGirl/aquietlearningcorner/scentedbygunpowder Word Count: 7,561 Prompt: FMA Big Bang 2020 Characters: Riza Hawkeye, Roy Mustang, Jean Havoc Pairing: Royai Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Family Chapter: Part III of 5 Summary: Post-PD. A drive to look for more of Berthold Hawkeye’s research sends Roy Mustang, Riza Hawkeye, and Jean Havoc back to Hawkeye’s childhood home. But although the years have faded the wounds of Hawkeye’s heart, the embers still exist. This trip, ordered by Mustang, threatens to flame them back to life. With Hawkeye and Mustang at odds with each other, and an unknown but heavy history hanging overhead, Havoc isn’t sure what this research mission will mean to the future of his commanding officers.

Prologue || Part I || Part II || Part III || Epilogue AO3 || ff.net

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Part III

By the time they came back downstairs, the sun had long since set. Havoc let Hawkeye go in first, seeing as she knew the best way back through her window, and he followed suit, closing it while she sat the rabbit back on the bed. The two made their way downstairs, Hawkeye somewhat subdued, but with all that tension that she had been carrying gone. An exhaustion was growing in its place, but it Havoc was honestly glad to see that the tension had left her. Hopefully, with that gone she would be more receptive to Mustang’s gestures towards her.

Leaving the second floor, they made their way to the kitchen, where, to Havoc’s amusement, Mustang was trying to cook. Several badly chopped vegetables were on the table, and he was cursing lightly as he tried to do something to some sort of burning vegetables in a pan. In the sink a pot sat, smoking, with something still popping and bubbling in it.

“Ah!” Mustang jerked his hand away, shaking it out for a second as something popped him, before trying to scrape the vegetables off the bottom of the pan again.

The softest exhalation came from Hawkeye, almost a laugh, and Havoc felt something in his heart ease at that. If she was still mad at Mustang, she would have been irritated, not almost laughing. She walked over to him and nudged him aside.

“Let me have that. You know you can’t cook.”

“Hawkeye!” Mustang looked over at her, surprised, but let her push him to the side. “I—” he looked at her, uncertainty on his face for a moment. Havoc couldn’t see Hawkeye’s face, but something in it must have reassured Mustang, because his uncertainty faded. “I was just trying to make supper for us.”

Havoc peered at a strange lump on the table, some sort of runny, mushy thing with a lot of flour around it. “What were you trying to make?” he asked. “This looks more like something to make us all sick.”

Mustang whirled on him. “Sh-shut up! I was trying to make some dough, okay? But it didn’t turn out right!”

“What were you making dough for?” Havoc asked.

Mustang mumbled something under his breath before going over to the sink. He grimaced at the pot in it.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t catch that,” Havoc pushed.

“I said that I was trying to make a pot pie, alright!” He crossed his arms. “It’s not my fault that the cookbooks aren’t clear.”

Havoc blinked at him in surprise. “How can you do all that alchemy, but you can’t follow the recipe in a cookbook?”

“You were trying to make pot pie?” Hawkeye said, glancing back at Mustang.

“Y-yeah.” Mustang seemed a little embarrassed, and Havoc got the feeling that he was missing something again.

“Thank you,” she said with a slight smile. “I appreciate the gesture.”

“Well, I know you like it,” Mustang said, clearly a little uncomfortable.

“I do,” she said. “But next time, just lay out the ingredients for me.”

Havoc was watching them, as they seemed to dance around each other, Mustang trying to figure out what to do now, and Hawkeye obviously tired from earlier. Looked like things were up to him again.

“Welp,” he said, straightening up and speaking loudly. “Seems to me that you’re no cook, General. And Hawkeye, you need to go warm up after being out on the roof.” Not that it was cold, but an excuse was an excuse. “So why don’t you leave supper tonight to me. I can’t do much, but my mama taught me a few dishes. Why don’t you two go see if that radio works if you want something to do. I’m tired of it being so quiet in here.”

“No, I won’t leave you to take care of this mess alone,” Hawkeye said.

“And I should clean up. I can do that much,” Mustang said with a grimace.

“Nuh-uh,” Havoc said. “Look, Hawk’s been doing pretty much all of the cooking since we got here—and I understand why you haven’t General. Let me give you a chance to wow you with a Havoc family recipe or two. It’s about time I took a turn.”

He knew that both of them were incredibly stubborn people, but he also knew that it would do them some good to just rest with each other. They must have been tired, because after a few seconds of a staring contest, they gave in.

“Alright,” Mustang said. “We’ll leave it to you tonight.”

“I’ll call ya when it’s ready,” Havoc promised.

He watched them walk out, watched as Mustang subtly moved a little closer to Hawkeye, and she leaned into it. He saw some of the tension leave Mustang’s shoulders, and his hand move a little closer to Hawkeye’s, brushing against hers to give her hand a squeeze and saw her return it.

Good. Maybe they’d work some things out.

Havoc turned back to the kitchen and grimaced. It was a mess, and he had his work cut out for him.

How had Mustang even done that to that pot?

Still, it was a good idea to give the two of them some time alone, Havoc thought. Now that Hawkeye had basically had a breakdown on him—not something he ever thought he would see—the two could, he thought, begin to come together once more.

He listened for them as he chopped the vegetables for his ma’s famous pot pie—he did have all the spices he needed, didn’t he?—and smiled to himself as he heard their quiet voices. Not twenty minutes into cooking he heard them try to make the radio work, Mustang saying something about needing Fuery, and Hawkeye shooting back with a tired laugh that it would still be a miracle. There was a lot of static, but they eventually found a radio station with decent reception and good music. It drowned out most of their conversation, but Havoc didn’t mind. Let them have their privacy. He had cooking to do.

He only looked in on them once, when he heard odd movement, and he peeked into the sitting room. He quickly left before either of them saw him, but the sight of Mustang and Hawkeye dancing closely with each other bolstered him through the rest of his food preparation. They would be alright now. He was certain of it.

About an hour later he had decent meal laid out and had cleaned up after himself—except for that pot, which he wasn’t sure would ever be the same again. Even though he didn’t want to interrupt them, Havoc did call for Hawkeye and Mustang to eat. Supper was, for once, a much lighter affair, although it was clear that the evening’s events had worn on all of them. Still, Hawkeye and Mustang sat near each other, and Hawkeye didn’t shy away from the small gestures that Mustang made towards her. It relieved Havoc, honestly. If she was receptive to even the small things, then it seemed that the two of them were on the mend.

Bedtime came early that night, all of them tired from the day’s events, and they wearily made their way upstairs and into their respective rooms. Havoc laid in bed, staring at the ceiling again, ignoring Betsy the dress form in the corner, and listening to the house. The house itself was creaky, old, and not even Mustang’s alchemic changes could change the sound of a house settling on its foundations. The house wasn’t what was keeping him awake, though.

Havoc could hear Riza in the next room, restless, and wondered if he ought to go check on her. It had been a rough night for her, and he worried. He had just about decided to get up when his ears perked at the sound of someone else up and moving around. From the direction of it, he guessed that Mustang had come out of his room. As he listened, he heard the footsteps move down the hallway and then stop, about where he guessed Hawkeye’s door was. There was a slight knock, and then he heard Mustang’s voice, too low for Havoc to understand. Apparently, Hawkeye could understand him, though, and she answered him. Havoc heard the movement of her getting up, and then a door being unlocked and opened. For a moment, he didn’t hear much, and then there was a murmur of voices again, talking. After a moment, Havoc heard movement again, but this time both of them towards the bed, where they seemed to settle.

Havoc rolled over in his bed, a smile on his lips. It seemed that those two would be alright now. He still didn’t have all of the puzzle pieces to them or to what, exactly, had happened between them, but Havoc didn’t need them. As long as Roy Mustang and Riza Hawkeye were alright, all was right with the world. And if all was right with the world, then that meant that Havoc could sleep.

The next day dawned bright and early, as per the norm, and Havoc rolled out of bed, started the coffee, and went to check on the horses. However, when he got back, Hawkeye wasn’t up and cooking breakfast. Havoc shrugged, figuring that the two were still with each other, and got to work, cooking up some pancakes and such for them. It was at about the time that Mustang usually came downstairs that both he and Hawkeye came down the stairs together.

“Mornin’,” Havoc drawled. “Look at you two coming down together.”

“Shut up, Jean, it wasn’t anything like that,” Roy muttered.

Hawkeye was making her way straight to the coffee. “Careful,” she said, obviously tired. “I haven’t had my coffee yet. I’m more liable to shoot.”

“Yes ma’am,” Havoc said with a chuckle. Even though he had drifted off to sleep, it seemed like the two of them had finally had their late-night talk and gotten things worked out. Good. It had been long overdue. Maybe they would be back to normal now.

Hawkeye helped him finish breakfast, no one wanting Mustang anywhere near the cooking after the disaster with the poor ruined pot. It was still soaking in the sink, and still, to Havoc’s eye, seemed slightly toxic. Hawkeye seemed to be eyeing it as if she thought she could clean it, but Havoc thought the poor thing was a gonner.

It didn’t take long for Havoc and Hawkeye to finish cooking, and the three of them sat together a bit more companionably to eat then they had on previous mornings. It was easy enough that Havoc almost didn’t want to bring up the work they needed to do today. He’d honestly rather have everyone rest. It had to be done sooner or later, though, and both Mustang and Hawkeye were workaholics. One of them would mention getting to work eventually.

“So… are we going to finish the basement today?” Havoc watched as Hawkeye instantly stilled, pulled in a quiet breath and pursed her lips.

Mustang moved his hand next to hers and shook his head. “No. I finished it up yesterday,” he said. He glanced at Hawkeye. “I figured it was for the best.”

Hawkeye seemed to relax a bit, but not a lot at Mustang’s words. Havoc had to wonder just what it was about that basement that kept both Hawkeye and Mustang so squirrely about it. It was more than a little odd, and just one more part of the puzzle. But it also wasn’t really his business, was it?

“Alright,” he said, putting those thoughts to the side for the moment. “Then what’s the plan for today?”

“The outbuildings,” Mustang said. “I think we should be able to get to most of them today.”

Havoc glanced outside. “It’s shaping up to be warm. We should get started soon.”

Mustang looked out as well and sighed. “Alright. Then let’s get this cleaned up and get to work.”

As far as Havoc was concerned, there were only three good things about working outside that day. The first was that there weren’t any animals around, aside from the horses, so they didn’t have to worry about stepping in any muck as they worked around the various outbuildings. It would have been a lot more difficult if they were worrying about stepping in manure.

They started with the barn, the biggest of the structures. There really wasn’t much to the lower level, and most of the work was left to Mustang and his ability to transmute, although truthfully there wasn’t much to that either. Most of the wood in the barn was exactly what it seemed do be, although Mustang checked anyway, just to be thorough.

While he worked on that, Havoc and Hawkeye checked out the loft. Here, Havoc was introduced to the second good thing of the day: the stories that he learned.

Hawkeye was a surprisingly good storyteller, and she regaled Havoc with the misadventures of a young city-boy Mustang as they worked. Although there was some old equipment and such, it was easy work. Most of what they went through were items Hawkeye herself had put in the loft, saying that sometimes she spent nights up there when she was a girl. Havoc didn’t ask why, but he did enjoy her stories, and just let her talk as she felt like it.

Havoc got to hear of the time Mustang got kicked by Hawkeye’s goat, and when the goat had eaten part of a handkerchief that had belonged to her mother and Roy had managed to restore it with alchemy. He’d never forget the visual she described of Mustang hanging by his ankle on a rope while the goat tried to eat his hair. She had, apparently, just laughed at him for a full three minutes before she pulled the goat away.

He knew there was a reason he liked Riza Hawkeye.

The barn, however, like everything else so far, was a bust. There had been a few alchemy circles discovered, but Hawkeye and Mustang both seemed to know about them, if the somewhat amused glances they gave each other meant anything. It raised Havoc’s eyebrows, and he found himself wondering just what kind of mischief the two of them had gotten up to as kids.

When the barn was finished, they moved on to the shed. It had, to Havoc’s mind, a disturbing amount of chemicals and compounds stored in it. Some of them seemed to be quite old, and Havoc found himself more then a little concerned about what might happen if those bottles were opened. Neither Mustang nor Hawkeye seemed to be concerned, though, which Havoc found a bit, well, concerning.

Hawkeye, apparently, had a greater than average knowledge on chemicals. She was able to identify a few of the containers by looking at them and smelling them, which Havoc found a bit impressive. She also seemed to know a great deal about what mixing certain chemicals together would do, and Havoc eyed her warily when she seemed thrilled to find a few particular ones in the shed. She deemed them “useful” and collected some to take back home with her. Havoc deemed them “dangerous” but he supposed if anyone knew what they were doing, it would be Hawkeye. He just hoped that the chemicals didn’t cause a problem on the train.

Still, the shed gave them no clues, and they broke for lunch, Hawkeye taking a few more of the chemicals into the house with them. Lunch didn’t take long, as they just ate some of the leftovers from the night before. Mustang doled out their portions while Havoc worked on stoking the fire in the stove to heat them up. Hawkeye was busy doing something with the bottles of chemicals and that pot that Mustang had ruined, but Havoc, although curious, didn’t ask what. It wasn’t long before they were all sitting down, listening to the radio and eating leftover potpie. Havoc couldn’t help but notice that Hawkeye’s portion was a little bigger than his and Mustang’s, but he kept that to himself. If Mustang wanted to give Hawkeye more of her favorite meal, he wasn’t going to complain.

It was on to the chicken coop after lunch. With the way that it was falling in, Havoc held out little hope for it. He was not disappointed. He did get some amusing stories of Mustang being chased by chickens and some touching ones of Hawkeye raising little baby chicks, which made the search more fun, at least. Of course, watching Mustang get caught up in the chicken wire had been pretty funny too. As Hawkeye laughed at him before beginning to help him out of the rusted wire, scolding Mustang as she did, Havoc couldn’t help but wonder if he was getting a glimpse of what their childhood with each other had been like.

Havoc wasn’t sure if the day was hotter than the others had been, or if it was just that they were outside and not in the cool of the house, but it certainly felt like a scorcher. He abandoned his usual shirt early on, only keeping on his undershirt. Mustang did likewise. Havoc honestly had no idea how Hawkeye kept working in her short-sleeved black turtleneck. He knew she was sweating through, and she had to have something lighter. If nothing else, he’d lend her an undershirt. But he already knew that was fruitless. She had refused that even when they were rebuilding Ishval, and he had never figured out why.

They took a break before moving on to the gazebo, stopping to get water at the well. That was when Havoc discovered the third good thing about working outside today: the well water. The water from it was cool and fresh, with a sweetness to it Havoc hadn’t found in any city water anywhere.

“You should bottle and sell this stuff, Riza,” he said. “You’d make a fortune.”

“It is the best water I’ve ever tasted,” Mustang agreed. “When I first got here, I couldn’t believe that water could taste this good.”

“That’s because you grew up on the city water,” Hawkeye said. “I couldn’t believe anyone could call that water when I first tasted it. It tasted like some had decided to dissolve a bunch of foul-tasting vitamin pills in it and convinced you it was good.”

“…They do try to fortify the water,” Mustang admitted.

“I’ll take this and good food over fortified water any day,” Havoc declared.

“Why didn’t you try to sell any?” Mustang asked her, clearly curious. “You sold just about everything else.”

Hawkeye didn’t really look at either of the men as she answered, bending instead to pick up a broken piece of glass that had been glinting in the sunlight. “I tried, once,” she said. “Cleaned up some old jars and took them into town. But when Father found out, he grew very angry. I should have asked him first, but he was in the middle of research, and I didn’t want to disturb him.”

“When was this?” Mustang asked, clearly having no memory of this moment.

She glanced at him. “It was that summer you went back for a week, because your sister was getting married,” She said, and then examined the piece of glass in her hand a bit more before throwing it down. “We should probably get back to work.”

Havoc watched as understanding dawned on Mustang’s face and with it, a small amount of horror. Havoc’s brow furrowed, and he wondered what that was about. He had a feeling, though, like most of this history here, he would never truly know.

The gazebo was the last thing they examined, not that there was much to it. It didn’t take them long to go through it and then to collectively decide to take a break. All in all, it was another dirty day where they once again turned up absolutely nothing. Havoc was, personally, glad to be out of the heat and in the shade. From the way Mustang and Hawkeye were slumped in the chairs Mustang had repaired, they were too.

“…you fixed the roof,” Hawkeye said, looking up at the roof of the gazebo.

“Yeah,” Mustang said. “It was easy. I figured why not just go ahead and fix it while I was there.”

“Mm, well thank you,” Hawkeye said she was quiet for a moment. “I always liked coming out here, when I could.”

“You spend a lot of time outside?” Havoc asked, curious. The answer was obvious, but he was enjoying learning about Mustang and Hawkeye, and he hoped he could get a little more information out of them.

Hawkeye laughed. “Only as much as possible,” she said. “I did a lot of hunting and foraging in these woods, and it was a lot better to be outside then in, especially after father finished one of his research bends.” She sighed and looked up at the roof of the gazebo. “I don’t see myself coming back out here, but if I did, I’d want to make it look nice with flowers again.”

“You did tend them well,” Mustang said after a moment. “You showed me how to care for them. You showed me all sorts of things while I was here.”

She hummed in agreement. “I showed you how to do a lot of things.” A glint of mischief appeared in her eye, and Havoc paid attention, interested to see where this was headed. “Too bad we can’t do some of those same sorts of things,” she said. “I doubt going swimming in our underwear will be quite the same now as it was then.”

That caught Havoc’s attention. “Say what now?” Havoc said, raising an eyebrow.

Mustang scowled. “It’s not what you think.”

“It sounds like you got to see Hawkeye in her underwear,” he countered. “Her wet underwear! Pardon me sir, but you’re a luckier man then most!”

Hawkeye grinned. “The first time, it happened I hit him.”

“See, now that sounds like something I’d expect.” Havoc said, sitting back in his chair, clearly waiting for the story.

Mustang huffed. “We were kids! I was twelve! She was nine! There was nothing like that about it!”

“You wouldn’t still be here if there were,” Hawkeye retorted. “Father almost made sure you weren’t.”

“Oh, this sounds like a story,” Havoc said with a grin.

“It’s nothing!” Mustang protested.

“He was still new,” Hawkeye said, completely ignoring Mustang. “Hadn’t been around much, found the path and followed it.  I had gone out for a bit of a swim, as it was still hot. He stumbled upon the pond, happened to see me. I saw him, and it looked like he was staring at me.”

“I saw you go under and not come back up,” Mustang mumbled. “And when you did, it was just your head. I thought you were drowning.”

“He came in the water after me, grabbed my arm, and I hit him right in the eye,” Hawkeye continued. “Thought he was after me. I fled back to the house, calling for my father. I didn’t typically scream like that, so he came out. I was soaking wet and scared, and managed to get out what had happened. Mustang came staggering up the path just a little bit behind me, his clothes soaked, with my clothes bundled up in his arms, and a bruise forming on his face.”

“I don’t think I ever saw Master Hawkeye so mad,” Mustang said, running a hand over his face. “I thought he was going to kill me.”

“It took a little bit of explaining, but it was finally worked out that everything was an accident,” Hawkeye said. “Father did take some money to buy me material to make a bathing costume so this wouldn’t happen again, but I served Roy smaller and colder portions of food for a month.”

Havoc was laughing. “Oh, man that’s great! Roy here being a slick city boy probably didn’t help things any.”

Hawkeye smiled. “Not at all.”

Mustang grumbled about it, but it was clear that he wasn’t really taking an offense to her teasing. It was good to see her smile, Havoc, thought, and to see her with some good memories from this place. With the history that he could just feel weighing on this place, part of him had worried that Hawkeye had not had any joy in childhood. He had enjoyed hearing these stories from her today that countered that. It was still clear that being here was weighing heavy on her, but it seemed that there were some bright spots in her childhood. He did find it interesting, though, that most of them seemed to involve Mustang. Havoc filed that away for later thought and let himself just enjoy this moment.

They were quiet for a bit, enjoying the shade, and the lengthening light. The day was ending, and the evening beginning. Cicadas started to chirp, and a few spots of flashing light appeared as the lightning bugs started to come out. They’d be out heavier later, but for now their time was just beginning.

“So, what’s the plan now?” Havoc asked. “Turning up the dirt?”

Mustang looked over at Hawkeye and she shook her head. “No. Even the outbuildings were a long shot. When my father finished—” she took a breath, and Havoc saw her shoulders tighten, that haunted look coming back in her eyes. “By the time he finished transcribing his completed research, he was in no shape to leave the house. He barely left his room.”

Mustang was looking at her with that unfathomable look on his face again, and Havoc knew there was something that he was missing here, something important to them. It wasn’t likely that he was going to learn it now, though.

“We’ve struck out,” Mustang said, turning his attention back to the both of them. “It was a long shot anyway. Tomorrow morning we’ll get up, pack up, and head back,” Mustang said. “That’ll be a week. We’ve been away long enough.”

“Yeah. Hopefully the office isn’t in shambles,” Havoc said. “Or Fuery traumatized by some story Breda told him.”

That brought smiles to their faces, although they all knew that the master sergeant wasn’t that gullible or scared anymore, although still not fond of ghost stories.

“Well, if Breda pulled anything, I’m sure that Fuery had found a way to get him back,” Hawkeye said. “He’s become quite adept at slipping treats for Hayate in Breda’s pockets.”

Havoc laughed again, Roy chuckling too, before he stood up.

“We better go ahead and clean up,” Mustang said. “We’ll head out as soon as we can tomorrow.”

“Do we need to go ahead and call for tickets?” Havoc asked, standing up and stretching.

Hawkeye shook her head. “There’s no phone here,” she said. “Father never had one installed.”

“We’ll just have to spend some time in town waiting,” Mustang said. “Something should come through.”

“Unless the schedule had changed in a week, then yes, there should be,” Hawkeye said, standing up herself.

Mustang nodded. “Good. Then let’s go eat and pack up and clean up what we can. I want to get off as soon as possible tomorrow.”

The three of them made their way back to the house, Havoc pausing by that stuck kitchen door to look over the grounds again. He still thought that they, and the house itself, had the potential to be pretty. He just couldn’t shake the feeling, though, that there was something ominous about the place. Maybe it was the tension that had been between Mustang and Hawkeye all week. Maybe it was some of the stories that Hawkeye told, ones that rolled off her tongue as if they were normal, but made Mustang tense up and gave Havoc himself pause. Or maybe he was just reading too much into things. He just couldn’t help feel like he had missed a rather big puzzle piece here somewhere.

But, again, was this really his puzzle to solve?

“Jean—if you want some of the lemonade, you better get in here.”

“Yeah, I’m coming,” he turned to go in, leaving the door open behind him, and his ruminations outside as well.

The evening passed fairly amicably. Someone had switched the radio on again, and they listened to it as they sat down to eat, finishing off whatever leftovers were there. Hawkeye poured a few more chemicals in that poor pot, and then went ahead and prepared them all food for the next day’s lunch and set aside what she could for breakfast. She had chosen the amounts of supplies well, and there was very little that was left. She saved what she could, clearly packing it to take home with her in her usual “waste not, want not” type of way.

The containers that had held the foodstuffs were washed and prepared to take back to Mrs. Nelson. Havoc and Mustang went through the house while Hawkeye was working on that, making sure that it was as pre-prepared as it could be for their departure, closing windows, closing off rooms, and emptying lamps of oil and sconces of wax.

Showers were taken in turn, with enough time between them that the water didn’t get too cold. Mustang offered to see if he could make the water in the boiler heat faster with his flames, but Hawkeye had shut that down with a fast and firm no, and Havoc thought it was probably for the best. Although, admittedly, if the boiler had blown up, it would make for a good story to end their time here. A destructive and potentially deadly one, but a good story, nonetheless.

Bedtime came not too long afterwards, all of them tired, but not as weary as other days. Havoc chalked it up to the tension between Mustang and Hawkeye being gone and settled into bed, once again staring up at the ceiling with Betsy the dress form looming in the corner.

Had it really been a week since he had come here with Mustang and Hawkeye? It almost felt like this place existed in it’s own little pocket of time or something. The past weighed heavy here, although it was a past he didn’t know about. It stayed, lingered, and left its presence, or at least it did on Hawkeye and, to some extent, Mustang. It was a heavy feeling, as if, even though they had found nothing, a lot had happened. Try as he might, Havoc couldn’t help but think about it as he laid there, attempting to sleep, laying out what he knew, and what he suspected.

Hawkeye’s father had taught Mustang alchemy, and flame alchemy was connected somehow. That had been a huge revelation to Havoc, and it explained so much about the two and their relationship. It still left a lot of questions, but it also answered more than a few.

Hawkeye grew up poor, and maybe even without food often. It, again, explained a lot. It explained how Hawkeye had so many different skills. It explained why she was so frugal with what she bought and how she continually repaired things. It explained why she tended to keep things until they were no longer useable. It explained why she could make meal out of almost anything, and why she tended to keep even the smallest amounts of food. When you grew up with little, you learned how to make it stretch.

Hawkeye’s mother had died when she was young. Hawkeye had cared for her father until he died. And, Havoc would guess, Hawkeye’s dad hadn’t been a good dad, although how far that went, he wasn’t sure. It brought a new light, though, to the way that she would fuss over anyone who was sick and ply them with teas and medicines until they went home or went to the doctor.

He had learned a lot about Hawkeye. He had learned about Mustang, too. But it still felt like he was missing something.

Havoc sighed and rolled over. He had lots of puzzle pieces, but he wasn’t even sure what kind of a puzzle he was putting together. All he knew was that what he had learned did explain a lot about Hawkeye, and about the relationship Hawkeye and Mustang had.

Havoc’s ears perked as he heard someone moving around the house, and he listened to see where the footsteps were going. It sounded like it was Mustang again, heading towards Hawkeye’s room. Havoc waited, listening, as this time Mustang knocked, but went ahead and opened the door. He heard muffled voices again, and then what sounded like Mustang getting on the bed.

Havoc stopped paying attention then. Maybe this wasn’t his puzzle to solve. Maybe he didn’t need to know. Maybe all he needed to do, right now, was close his eyes, and go to sleep.

He would just trust that, if he was meant to find out any answers, that they would come in time.

The morning was busy. Hawkeye cooked breakfast and gave the kitchen a good cleaning, the chemicals she had used making that pot Mustang had ruined usable again. Havoc regarded it as a small miracle and teased her about it until she hit him with a towel and told him to go check on the horses. Havoc had obliged with a grin, and went to ready the horses and the wagon for the trip back, making sure that the animals were ready. He also mucked out the barn, tossing the manure near what he thought was an old garden. The plants there looked like they could use the fertilizer. Mustang was on cleaning duty and made sure that the bathrooms were clean and that the beds were stripped. Working together, it wasn’t long before the three of them were loading up the wagon with their luggage, the containers for the Nelsons, and the bundled-up bedding that Hawkeye said Mrs. Nelson would clean. They climbed aboard and headed off, back down that rain-rutted road.

It was slow going again, as the road was still bad, but this time, at least, they were enjoying themselves, even if Hawkeye did seem tired. Havoc couldn’t really blame her for that. This week had been hard, but it had been particularly hard on her. This time, though, Hawkeye leaned into Mustang as they bumped along, and Havoc pretended not to notice when a hand brushed a thigh once or twice. Their business was their business.

Once out onto the road, they could move at a slightly faster clip, but Havoc still took it easy, enjoying spending a little time with a less up-tight Hawkeye in the area she grew up in. He asked her questions about the crops and groves that they saw, and she answered them as best she could. Forestry, she explained, was the best thing that this area had to offer, although it really wasn’t that much in the grand scheme of things. Her land, with its wild woods, was actually quite valuable because of that. She had no desire to cut down the woods and sell the timber, but instead let it grow wild and allowed hunting on it. She personally thought it was better that way, and Havoc found that he couldn’t disagree.

When it came to the other crops, most crops weren’t cash crops, but sustainable ones. They sent out a few small shipments of things here and there, but most of what was grown was used by the locals in the area. The area honestly had very little to offer and mostly kept to itself. Havoc certainly thought that explained why the town hadn’t grown much and wasn’t well known. There wasn’t anything to know about it.

It was a pleasant journey back into town, the Nelsons greeting them enthusiastically as they returned. Mrs. Nelson fussed over the containers and told Hawkeye that she hadn’t needed to bother, but Havoc saw her whisk them away anyway. He couldn’t blame her. One less thing to have to spend money on was money to spend on a different need.  Havoc watched with great amusement as the older lady fussed over both Hawkeye and Mustang, questioning them a great deal more about just “what you two youngsters have been up to—yes, yes, we’ve seen the papers, but I want to hear things from you.”

It was in the middle of one of those conversations that someone called out Mustang’s name, and Havoc looked up from the preserves he was considering to see both Mustang and Hawkeye turn to look at the caller. It took him a minute, but he recognized him as one of the men from that first day in town. It also didn’t escape his notice that Mustang stepped just slightly in front of Hawkeye. Both of them looked tense, and Havoc slowly sat down the jar he was looking at, just in case.

“Thompson,” Mustang returned, his eyes focused on the man.

Havoc suddenly remembered Hawkeye’s words from earlier in the week, about how Mrs. Nelson always made sure that the kids behaved, and how she let Hawkeye “wait things out” in the store sometimes. It had made him wonder if Hawkeye had been bullied as a child, and he was pretty sure that he was getting his answer right now.

The three stared at each other for a moment, before Thompson stuck his hand out. “I saw you when you first came into town,” he said. “Didn’t have the time at that moment to talk to you, but I’m glad I ran into you now.” He looked over at Hawkeye. “To both of you. I just wanted to apologize for how I was when we were kids. It was wrong, and I wish some had culled me on it sooner. Heavens knows if I hear of my son doing half the things I did to the two of you, I’m going to make sure he can’t sit down for a week.”

That had Havoc’s interest piqued, but he wasn’t about to ask questions now. Instead he watched as Mustang gave a subtle glace to Hawkeye, who must have given him some sort of invisible signal, because Mustang reached out to take Thompson’s hand.

“We’ve all done things we’re not proud of,” he said. “So long as we strive to be better and teach the next generation how to be better than us.”

Thompson gave Mustang a bit of a smile, then, when Mustang had let go, extended his hand to Hawkeye. For a second, she just regarded it, before she, too, reached out to shake it. “I can’t say they were enjoyable days, but thank you for your apology.”

Thompson gave her a smile as well and withdrew his hand. “Listen—some of the others are in town today. We’ve been talking since we saw you earlier this week. Would you be willing to come at least have a drink with us or something? It doesn’t have to be long.”

Havoc watched as Mustang and Hawkeye held one of their silent exchanges for a moment, and then, after a moment, agreed. Havoc begged off, saying he was going to take a smoke break before the train arrived, but he did watch them walk off. It was interesting, he thought, to watch his two commanding officers interact with these former bullies. Even though it seemed that bygones were bygones, they still constantly kept each other aware of the other’s presence, be it through being in eyesight, or through light touches or brushes. It made him wonder what watching these two fight together would look like just because they were so aware of each other.

There were layers of depth here, and Havoc felt like he was out of his element in trying to figure it out.

The train came soon enough, though, and with a last good-bye to the Nelsons—and some packages sent with them for the ride, courtesy of Mrs. Nelson—they boarded the train to leave Awrout behind. It would be nice to be back in Central, to be home again, Havoc thought, and he looked forward to things returning to normal—whatever that looked like for them.

The train was, again, full of people, and it took them a moment to find a set of seats together. Unlike last time, this trip promised to be a less tense one, and Havoc was honestly ready for it. Mustang and Hawkeye settled on the same bench as naturally as breathing, and that was a relief to Havoc. It was how the two of them needed to be, and honestly, Havoc was glad. He sat across from them, eyeing the bench’s length to see if he’d be able to stretch his legs out across it later. Hawkeye and Mustang seemed not to have noticed how they naturally angled their bodies towards each other, just slightly, not exactly touching, but close. When the train jerked into motion, Mustang’s hand moved towards Hawkeye’s as everyone jolted slightly. She let him, and Havoc decided that this trip was definitely going to be better then the one to Awrout.

It honestly wasn’t far into the ride that Hawkeye fell asleep, this whole week obviously having exhausted her. Havoc couldn’t blame her. She had been on an emotional roller coaster, and it wasn’t one that Havoc cared to repeat. He didn’t comment on the way that Mustang just shifted around to make her more comfortable against him, or on the soft looks Mustang gave her now and then. And Havoc didn’t comment on the way that Hawkeye seemed to settle in against him naturally. These two had fit together for years, it seemed. Havoc wasn’t going to try to change that.

“…It’ll be good to be home, won’t it, sir,” Havoc said softly.

“Hm?” Mustang glanced up from the paper he was reading. “Oh—yes it will be. I think we could all use a good night’s rest.”

“Yeah… Arwout wasn’t exactly restful was it?” Havoc mused.

Mustang looked up, letting out a silent sigh. “I can’t say that it was,” he agreed. “I’m glad to be leaving it behind.”

Havoc blinked a bit at this. Mustang had never seemed to hold any grudge against the town. If anyone had been glad to be leaving, he had assumed it would be Hawkeye most of all. “Was it really that bad to you?” he asked Mustang. “It sounded like there were some good memories for you two there.”

Mustang stared out the window at the passing landscape. “…some, yes.” He said after a moment. “But I’m not sure if they outweigh the rest.” He looked down at Hawkeye, sleeping against him. “I’d rather take the good from there with me and leave the bad behind.”

There was a lot in that sentence. Havoc didn’t bother to unpack it; he just nodded his head thoughtfully. “It’s always wise to take the good with us,” he said, and couldn’t help but wonder if there was more in that statement then he’d intended on saying.

In the end, there really wasn’t much more to say to that, and so Havoc fell silent, letting the noise of the train take over.

The train ride was uneventful, Hawkeye waking eventually, and the three of them sharing the treats Mrs. Nelson had packed for them, as well as the food Hawkeye had prepared. Havoc shared some of the sweets with the kid that was sitting behind him, and then had to deal with having a new best friend for the rest of the ride, much to the amusement of Mustang and Hawkeye. He didn’t mind, though. Honestly, it made him miss his nieces and nephews all the more. Eventually they pulled up to the station in Central and disembarked, Havoc taking the opportunity to do a full body stretch as they stood in the station.

“Do you need a ride back home?” Mustang asked him, and Havoc shook his head.

“Nah. It’ll do me good to walk. It’s not that late and it’s not that far.” He said. He nodded at Hawkeye. “If you’re going to give anyone a ride, let it be Hawkeye. She’s still got those chemicals in her bag, and I don’t want them to spill.”

Hawkeye shot him an unamused look. “They’re fine, and how did you know they’re in there anyway?”

Havoc shrugged. “Caught a glimpse when you were putting things away. Spent the rest of the train ride scared to death we were going to blow up.”

“Sure you did,” Mustang shot back. “That’s why you slept so well.”

Havoc grinned. “Exactly.” He gave them a jaunty wave and turned to head off. “See you both tomorrow.”

“Be safe!” Hawkeye called after him.

“You take all the fun out of life when you say that, Riza!” he called back.

Still, he couldn’t help but glance back at them as he walked away. They were standing next to each other, completely at ease once again. Mustang had been right about taking the good out of a place and leaving the bad behind. He just hoped that Hawkeye could do that too.

Although, perhaps that rabbit he happened to glimpse in her bag earlier would help her with that.