#I had laying around in a Google Doc and decided to finally post it

[maddakai]

I want to cry so badly! What kind of nightmare was this! 😰😵

Okay so first off I was scrolling on TikTok last night (you know this won’t end well when TikTok is mentioned) and saw a OCD symptoms posts (I have it so chill) and one of them was “Repeatedly checking that I have attached the right link/document and being afraid it will be a vulgar image (I don’t have any that I could mistakenly attach)” which I worry about literally alllllllll the time!!! So of course my subconscious brain did a funny 😄 this nights nightmare (nothing new) decided to put me in the setting of my elementary school 4th grade teachers room but the teacher was my middle school 6th/7th grade math teacher! She looks like a hard ass (she actually wasn’t that bad but I’m autistic so I was afraid of her & she reminded me of my aunt & of course they have the same name.) Anyways apparently weeks before that class we had to send a Google doc of wtv hw we did, a week later she had finally opened my link but apparently I used a broken phone that accidentally sent all my photos to her and they were pictures of MY fucking vagina!!!! (they didn’t look very aesthetic either😭) & my teacher’s mean ass let people in the class see them! (her desk/computer was facing the wall but she had her computer slightly turned so everyone could see what was on there. She had kids at her desk too!) The whole time I was panicking on the inside but trying to stay chill on the outside! She didn’t say anything mean, she understood the problem. She started deleting them in front of me to make sure they were actually gone but she just let other kids walk around so they saw everything!!! After she finished she stayed at her desk while everyone was walking around working on wtv project we had, I was laying on the floor, it seemed like everyone was avoiding me and giving me dirty looks but what pained me the most was that Zuko wanted nothing to do with me anymore 😭🔪💔

If you read this far thank you ☺️ but I am mortified I mentioned my vagina 🥲

#not really madd related but I’m tagging it as such eat me! #maddvents👀☠️ #maladaptive daydreaming #madd #actually madd #maladaptive daydreamer #dreams #vivid dreams #nightmares #atla zuko #atla aang #atla jet #avatar the last airbender #middle school #ocd symptoms

[orange-waterfalls]

Curses

Hornet x reader

ty anon for the request!

A/N: short and sweet fluffy fic, is all! Also I’m gonna close requests for a while and start posting on Ao3 because like,,,,,, i dunno, i just wanna. I have a Lot of thoughts and extra shit in my head and my google docs are getting cluttered with fanfic i haven’t finished. So. yeah! Enjoy!

Word Count: 1k

Curses

Hornet didn’t much enjoy the company of other bugs, if she was honest. She didn’t see much point to it in the grand scheme of things. She didn’t get much from relationships or conversations. Small talk made her want to fill her dress with rocks and sink to the bottom of blue lake. Politeness was overrated. She just wanted to spar and listen to the sounds of her kingdom. As in the kingdom she lived in. It wasn’t her kingdom, it was the Ghost’s kingdom. Technically. Legally.

But, she did enjoy the company of one bug. Just one. She had found it sitting in a shop, a faint swirl of orange in its eyes, mumbling about smoke or something. She tapped it once, making it scream and look at her. It apologized and requested her take it back home. She had to gently explain that it probably couldn’t go back home, and try to explain the entire history of the kingdom before it got bored. It then asked if it could stay with her, wherever she lived. She then had to explain that she doesn’t really have a house anymore, the kingdom was her home, and she traveled through it daily. It then asked if it could travel with her and she didn’t have any more excuses.

She could admit, she liked being around a bug who could speak.

“Hornet?” It said out of the blue. Hornet paused her polishing of her nail and turned to the bug behind her. It was laying on the ground, staring up at the gray ceiling of the crossroads. It didn’t move an inch, even as it glanced at Hornet. That was the thing about bugs who managed to recover from infection. They were weird. Hornet couldn’t count how many times it had said there was a fire burning behind its mind’s eye. She decided she didn’t want to.

“Hm?” She hummed her acknowledgement, continuing with her nail.

“Do you think bad things happen around me?” They asked. Hornet paused again, looking at them. She then looked around the area, at the cadavers of the infected bugs that she had cleared away to make room for a rest. She then looked even further, at the little Ghost who was swinging their nail wildly without abandon, cutting down anything that was unlucky enough to get in their way. She thought about it.

“Yes.” She settled on, looking at it. It still hadn’t moved an inch.

“Oh…” It sighed. Hornet tilted her head at the disappointed noise. “Bad luck follows me wherever I go.”

“No, I follow you wherever you go. Are you saying I am bad luck?” She retorted. That one made it snap its head over to look at her. She felt smug about it.

“No!” It immediately shouted. She hummed again, shrugging, going back to cleaning her nail.

“Pity. That sounds fun. I’d love to be bad luck.” She claimed. The bug stared at her, and she looked back. It chuckled a little, looking back at the ceiling. The two settled into a comfortable silence.

At least until the bug took a deep breath. Hornet sighed, preparing.

“... Hornet?” It asked once more.

“Yes?” Hornet responded.

“Do you like me?” Hornet had to think about that one for a moment. And then another moment. Enough moments for the other bug to start shifting around and getting worried. She decided to take pity on it.

“No.” She stated, finally. The bug froze.

“Oh…” It said, voice cracking. It was silent and Hornet started to feel bad. “Do you… love me?” Hornet chuckled.

“I love you.” She affirmed. The bug adjusted so that it was sitting up.

“But you don’t like me.” It repeated what Hornet had said.

“No, I do not.” She confirmed with a nod.

“Then why are you here?”

“Because I love you.”

“Ah…” It tapped its claws at the ground, descending into silence again. “Hornet?”

“Yes?”

“Am I a bad person?” Hornet completely froze at that one. She inhaled deeply.

Hornet knew what this was. She’d known from the beginning. She made the mistake of assuming she wouldn’t have to do anything. It wasn’t her problem. The feelings weren’t hers. But, she supposed if she had to, she could deal with it.

“I was going to play along with this little game of yours because you seem to be in some sort of mood, but this is getting ridiculous.” She stood up and took her nail in hand, walking towards the other bug with purpose. Said bug started to look panicked and frantically scooted away from her.

“Uh–” It started, nervous, obviously. She threw the nail above its head, embedding the blade into the ground, preventing it from scooting any further. The bug squeaked when its back hit the object.

“I don’t know where this idea came from that you’re some sort of ‘curse’ or whatever, but whoever said it can get a kick in the head from me. Who was it?” She demanded. The bug looked down, thinking for a moment.

“... me, I think.” It shrugged, looking back up at Hornet. She sighed.

“Very well then.” She lifted her leg and swiftly kicked the bug upside the head, making it fall over and hold the point of impact. 

“AH. HORNET.” It shouted. The other simply shrugged.

“I said what I said, and I said what I meant.” She claimed.

“Owee.” It whined. Hornet rolled her eyes.

“Now, you’re being a little annoying, and I am going to leave you alone because it seems like you need that right now.” She bowed her goodbye and turned to leave.

“Wait!” It called. Hornet paused, looking back. “... can you stay with me? Please?” Hornet sighed heavily.

“I am a warrior, the defender of this land. I have better things to do.” She complained.

“Is that a no?” The bug asked.

“It’s a yes.” Hornet disagreed. She walked back over and sat next to the bug, who had sat back up straight.

“Hornet?” It said. Hornet resisted the urge to sigh.

“Yes?” She responded.

“I love you.” It whispered. She laughed a little.

“I know.”

#hollow knight hornet #hk hornet #hornet hk #hollow knight fanfic #hk fanfic #hollow knight fanfiction #hornet x reader #hk hornet x reader #x reader #x gender neutral reader #gender neutral reader #it pronouns #gender neutral pronouns #gender neutral it #third person #x you #no y/n #hk fanfiction #silksong when

[fa-headhoncho]

You and Your Mandalorian

The Mandalorian (Din Djarin) x Reader

Prompt: Your Mandalorian finally keeps his end up of the promise he made you before he went on his journey to return the kid to his people.

Word Count: 1590

Reader: Female

Warning: uh, I wrote this when the show ended and its been sitting in my google docs ever since. I was too nervous to post but like why not post now, I have nothing to lose :p

Masterlist

=====

The muscles in your cheeks are starting to twitch as you force out another laugh at Kneeper’s joke. He was the farmer’s son next door and he always insisted to walk you home when you went to the market later than usual, saying how “a pretty lady like yourself might wander into trouble”. It was more likely you would be the one causing trouble but you weren’t about to tell him that. 

But, fearing to be impolite or not grateful, you didn’t dare to say no to him. You were still quite new to this small town and you weren’t about to make a bad name for yourself in the tightly sewn neighborhood. You had a complicated past and the last thing you needed was your name being spread throughout the town. 

It was easy to lay low as you lived away from the town market, only two other homes nearby. You didn’t speak much to the neighbors, only a few conversations here and there. The most social interaction you had was at the meals the mothers invited you to when their husbands were out every seventh night.

The families were nice, don’t mistake that. They helped you move into the small cottage at the end of the crop fields, the daughters dropped out fresh eggs and baked goods every morning, and they never tried to push to know why you appeared out of nowhere. The only issue was their traditions and beliefs were a bit old fashioned for your taste.

“... well, this is my stop.” You announce, stopping a few feet from the entrance of your home. “I appreciate the company, Kneeper. Tell your parents, again, thank you for the bread.” He nods at you, a sheepish smile on his face. When he doesn’t move to leave, you shift awkwardly.

The blonde takes in a shaky breath, “Appreciate it enough to invite me in?” He looks at you through the brim of his broad straw hat. You open your mouth and close it, a small blush appearing on your cheeks at his forwardness.

“Kneep,” You let out a sigh and adjust the basket resting on the crook of your arm. “I would love to but it— it’s getting quite late. I still need to tidy up and get ready to turn in for the night.” He hangs his head in rejection but nods otherwise.

“I understand…” He digs his hands into the pockets of his pants, “Maybe another time then?” He hopes, you let out a chuckle at his determination.

You move to continue down the path that leads to your front door, calling back to him over your shoulder, “We’ll see.” And with that empty promise, he departs to his own home.

=====

Making your way through the living room, you enter the small kitchen. You set down the basket full of groceries with a sigh. Kneeper has been trying to get a date from you since his mother started making friends with you. It was flattering, of course, but you were not interested at all. It would be a few more years till you considered it, honestly.

Turning on some music on the player you were gifted, you start to put away your groceries while putting on a little dance. The mundane activity is ever so exciting for you. In your past bounty hunting life, you never had the luxury of keeping fresh food. Too busy to make a meal and when you did have time, it was already wilted and expired so this luxury was something you never got tired of.

A deep chuckle interrupts your domestic bliss. The strange sound sends your whole body into autopilot. Grabbing the knife from the block on the counter, you don’t even think twice when you turn and throw it towards the intruder.

It hits the wall behind them and you go to charge. They don’t fight back as you pin them against the wall, an arm across their chest to hold them back and your other hand on the knife above them.

It was a man, one you’ve never seen before but the way his armor presses against you feels familiar. He has short, messy brown hair that matches his soft brown eyes. He’s taller than you, broader as well. It would appear to be easy for him to take you down on size alone but he doesn’t move. “Who are you?”

“Cyar’ika…” The man whispers out, his eyes searching your face. It sounds familiar, the name being played on repeat in your head every time you try to go to bed. You know that voice but not the face, “It’s me, cyar’ika, it’s—“

“Din,” You breathe out, relaxing your arm on him. Your eyes bounce around on his face, taking in his features. The only time he’s had the helmet off was in the dark and now it’s in the soft light of solar lamps that show his face. You can’t hold back the you raise a hand to his cheek, he immediately leans into the touch. You’ve dreamt of this day before. “Where’s the helmet?”

“I took it off.” He announces, eyes closed. “Grogu was too important.”

“Grogu?”

“The kid. That’s his name.” He corrects, a slight strain to his voice. You know not to push as it appears that the little green guy is not here with him. He also promised when you left, that he would only come find you when he was done with his mission. His mission of returning the child to his people.

Nothing is said as you remove yourself from the Mandalorian. His eyes snap open at the sudden loss of contact, sending you a confused look. You give him a tight-lipped smile and grab his hand.

You lead him towards the other side of your cottage where your bedroom is located. Assuming he has had a rough few days just by his appearance, you decided a nice rest would be much deserved.

As you slowly help Din out of his armor, you get transported back to your time spent together on the Razor Crest. He watches as you carefully unlatch the beskar from his body, setting it in a neat pile on the floor of your closet. You check over him just as you did before, making sure he doesn’t have any injuries.

“I’m fine, cyar’ika.” Din assures, grabbing your forearms as you go to check his ribs for the second time. You nod and slowly try to detach yourself from him but he stops you. 

The way his gloveless hand feels against your cheek freezes you on the spot. It’s been too long since you’ve been visited by your Mandalorian. Now he comes back helmetless and you can see the damage the journey before has done to him in his eyes.

“Have your eyes always been this expressive?” You ask with a soft tone causing a small smile to appear on his face.

He shrugs in response. The two of you fall into silence after that. Din was too busy recommitting your features to his mind; your hair was much longer and there were more freckles that littered your faces due to the much time you spent outside. You were too invested in memorizing his face; his short brown hair that matches his brown eyes, his sharp nose, everything.

Din then pushes a strand of hair behind your ear. “I missed you.” He whispers, afraid to break the moment. You lean up with a smile and press a chaste kiss to his nose.

“I missed you too.” You giggle out as his nose scrunches up. Not being able to hold back your excitement anymore, you burrow your face into his chest and wrap your arms around him. “Did you know that you are very pretty?”

You almost melt at the little chuckle that slips past Din’s lips and the slight blush that appears on his cheeks. “Thank you, mesh’la.” He says in a low voice and hugs you to his body. 

You’ve both craved this moment since you left him on the Razor Crest. The life getting too hard for you as you grew older and he understood your need for retirement. He felt the same at the time, wanting nothing more to run away with you and the kid but he knew that wasn’t the fair thing to do. But, now that the kid was with his people, he could finally start the life he promised you.

“How long are you staying?” You manage to get out, fearing that this was just a stop before he took another voyage. He removes his chin from the top of your head and pulls back to look at you. He lets out a sigh and you feel him tense underneath your fingers. Fearing his answer, you burrow your face further into his chest as the tears start to build up in your eyes.

“Hey, hey.” He gently guides your head back to look up at him. He sees your cheeks slowly becoming red, a pout formed on your lips as you try not to let him see you break down in front of him. “I’m not going anywhere.” He confesses, resting a hand on your cheek. “I promise you, mesh’la.”

You can’t help the tears that stream down your face at his words. After spending years together, dancing around your emotions and then leaving him when it was too much to handle anymore, it was finally time to live out the rest of your lives together. Just you and your Mandalorian. 

#the mandalorian x reader #the mandolarian #star wars #din dijarin x reader #din djaren #dyn djarin #star wars imagines #star wars imagine #the Mandalorian imagine #mando #mando x reader

[asthmark]

❝ not alone ❞, l.ty

synopsis → “you know, every reset we’re supposed to forget everyone and everything but no matter what i can never seem to forget how happy you make me.”

word count → 2.5k

warnings → angsty!!! the plot may not make sense since it’s literally 1 in the morning oops

a/n → i hope this concept makes sense and it isn’t too confusing or messy!! if it is just shoot me an ask i would be more than happy to clarify :] anyway i actually like the outcome of this but i am too tired to go back and reread it all for any mistakes so i just hope google docs has my back lol gn everyone

7:00 A.M.

the alarm you set for every year at the exact hour goes off at its appointed time, much to your dismay. the mere sound of your phone beeping has a knot forming in your stomach. you wished it would stop, that everything would just stop but that was beyond unrealistic. in fact, you felt foolish for even letting yourself think like that. no matter how badly you wanted things to change, they never would. you would have to endure the same things every year.

you had struggled to fall asleep the night before, that exact thought on your mind and the dread of facing the following day eating away at you. you had only managed to get some rest because of taeyong, who held onto you tightly and caressed your hair as he whispered sweet words to ease you into much needed sleep.

but the day was here now and there was no amount of romantic words or tender touches that would change that. there was absolutely nothing either of you could do about it.

you lean over towards your nightstand to turn off the alarm and taeyong stirs when he feels you begin to shift around in his arms. you lay beside him, staring up at the ceiling as he slowly begins to wake up. he yawns and stretches his limbs out on the mattress which was routinely for him. this would usually be followed by him trying to give you a smooch only for you to squirm away, giggling as you complained about his morning breath.

it is not one of those mornings.

8:09 A.M.

you end up having cereal for breakfast, another big switch up from your routine. normally, you two would browse the internet in search of a recipe that looked promising and try your best to recreate it. you would end up with flour, sugar and dirty dishes all over the place but you never cared. then you would sit at the couch, happily enjoying the finished product and chatting with the tv playing softly in the background.

that morning you sit at the dinner table silently, the cereal in your bowls going soggy before either of you had made a dent in it. you had lost any appetite and from the looks of it so has taeyong.

“you should eat.”

you glance up at your boyfriend. he isn’t eating either, instead he focuses on dipping his spoon into his cereal, bringing it above the bowl only to let it fall back in again. you put your silverware down. “i don’t think i can.”

he hums softly, agreeing with you. “are you nervous?”

it went without saying that you were both terrified. but you know he’s just trying to make conversation. you just nod your head anyway.  

10:31 A.M.

you and taeyong move to sit on the couch, turning on the tv so you don’t have to bear anymore uncomfortable silences.

even the newscaster looks down in the dumps, as expected. her voice lacks emotion as she speaks about the forecast, knowing nobody would be taking genuine interest unless it was to get their mind off of the current situation.

what did she expect? the world was restarting, people weren’t going to care about the weather.

“now, for the ongoing events,” says another news anchor. “as we are all well aware of, today is the annual reset. businesses worldwide have closed, most people opting to spend the day with their friends and family and we advise any viewers to do the same. talk to your loved ones about the memories you’ve made in the past year and write down the things and people you do not want to forget.”

you turn to taeyong only to find his gaze is already focused on you. you don’t hesitate to grab the hand that rests in his lap and intertwined his fingers with yours. neither of you say a word as you go back to watching the television, taeyong giving your hand a reassuring squeeze every so often.

12:46 P.M.

by noon, you and taeyong had begun cleaning your apartment, making sure it was well organized so that the next day you could focus only on getting settled in to your, essentially, new lives. you do the standard dusting and vacuuming along with similar around-the-house chores. while going through the closet, taeyong finds a shoe box full of polaroids you two had taken throughout the years. there are dates and other additional notes scribbled in sharpie on every single picture so your post-reset selves could read about the details of each photo since you would not be able to remember it. he calls out your name, smiling brightly when he sees your face light up as you fondly look over your shared moments.

“i’m so glad we got that camera,” you say, shifting through a stack of the photographs.

he nods. “probably your best idea yet.”

you find a picture of him giving you a piggyback ride and coo. it’s quite blurry but you can clearly see the huge grins on your faces. “look at us.” you hand him the photo. “we look so happy.”

he makes a noise of agreement, staring lovingly at the image. “you know, every reset we’re supposed to forget everyone and everything but no matter what i can never seem to forget how happy you make me.”

“quit it.” you shove his shoulder, smiling sadly as you attempt to blink away the tears forming in your eyes. “i don’t want to cry right now, there’s still so much work to do.”

“it can wait.” he opens his arms and that’s all it takes for you to break. you crawl into his embrace, sobbing softly into his chest. it tugs at his heart strings. he tucks his chin above your head but you still notice how his shoulders shake and quiet hiccups escape his lips.

3:28 P.M.

once you and taeyong get tired of being confined to your apartment, you decide to go out for a breath of fresh air. you walk around aimlessly and your final destination turns out to be olympic park. as expected, it’s quite empty since as you had heard on the news, everyone was spending their last couple hours with those they loved in private.

you take in the beautiful scenery and if either you catch sight of a pretty rock or blooming flower, you will stop to pick it up and carefully place it in your pockets for safe keeping. you had found that they served as good reminders of all the time you spent together. in fact, there are many more of these mini souvenirs in your home, decorating your shelves.  

“hold up,” says taeyong suddenly.

when you look at him his eyes have zeroed in on something on the ground. he kneels down and picks up a smooth rock. you can’t help but notice the familiarity of it’s color.

“pretty, right?” he says, dropping the item in the palm of your hand. “it matches your eyes.”

you smile at him, finding his attention to detail incredibly endearing. you hold on to the rock, feeling its curves with your fingers until a cluster of chrysanthemums catches your attention and you have to free up your hands to pick one. you decide on a yellow one and present it to your boyfriend.

“here,” you say. “for you.”

“hey, aren’t i supposed to be the one giving you flowers?” taeyong asks but he takes it from you anyway.

“you’re supposed to give flowers to people you like,” you say. “and i like you.”

“you like me?” he asks, gasping softly. “how embarrassing.”

you go along with his joke. “don’t you like me too?”

he shakes his head and makes a face. “no way... i love you.”

you shove his shoulder. “so cheesy.”

he can’t argue with that so he just nods and chuckles as he tucks the chrysanthemum into his dark locks of hair. at seeing this, you raise the polaroid camera round your neck toward taeyong and he, already used to it, automatically poses for you. he puts his arms over his head, curving them into a kind of crooked heart. he gives an open mouthed smile only resuming to his normal position when he hears the click of the camera. you and him share a laugh once the polaroid picture develops completely.

“oh god, i look ridiculous,” he comments. “please get rid of that.”

you only give him a sarcastic, “yeah sure” and continue walking.

you two never got rid of pictures, no matter how ridiculous or unflattering they were. you agreed that every moment you shared counted and deserved to be remembered.  

although, they never would be.

5:45 P.M.

you chew on the cap of your pen, massaging your aching hand. you had been writing for almost an hour and you had your cramping fingers to prove it. despite the discomfort, you aren’t one to break tradition. the ‘things i love about you’ list was an ongoing thing you and taeyong had been doing for... ever. they definitely came in handy if either if you wanted to read about what the other was like in past years.

“everything good over there?” taeyong asks, from the other side of the couch.

you shake your head. “this is too hard. i have no idea how i’ve kept this up for four years.”

he puts a hand over his heart. “wow, i’m that hard to love, huh?”

“you know that’s not what i meant,” you say, glaring. “i just have so much stuff to say about you, so much stuff i want future me to know.”

he nods, solemnly. “i get it. i don’t want to leave out a thing but it’s kinda hard to fit a year’s worth of feelings and emotions into a couple pages.”

your let your head fall onto the couch. “why do you have to be so lovable?”

taeyong points an accusing finger at you. “i could ask you the same thing! you’re the most wonderful human being on the planet, if i try to write everything i love about you my hand will fall off!”

you sit up to stare at him. he looks genuinely offended by your ‘wonderfulness’. you pick up your pen and paper.

adorably dramatic, you write.

he scoots closer to you, exclaiming, “hey, what did you just put!”

you hug your notepad tightly to your chest. “no peeking!”

7:12 P.M.

your boyfriend hands you his letter with hopeful eyes. unlike the lists that had been made hours earlier, these writings had been in the works for quite some time. there are letters you and taeyong had written for each other dated all the way from 2016. that was also the year the first polaroids you owned were from so you both assumed it was when you had begun dating. if you ever want to have a good cry, all you have to do is find those letters.

in them, there are heartfelt words for the other person’s eyes only describing how they felt around them, why they were so special, among other sentiments. most importantly, though, you always included why you would never forget the other person. of course, one could say how ironic this was considering that forgetting was what the reset was all about but nevertheless, it was reassuring to read. it made your love seem unbreakable; something so strong it defied the impossible.  

you give taeyong your letter, feeling somewhat nervous. he doesn’t hesitate to open the envelope carefully. he slowly removes your letter from inside and you mirror his delicacy. the pair of you sit in absolute silence as you read the words off the pages.

my y/n,

what an amazing year it’s been with you. i know i say that in every letter i write but it’s really true. i never wrote things like this before you came along. only the basics—my name, who my parents were, my birthday, etc. you know, things like that. frankly, i had nothing else worth remembering. but now i do. you’re my whole world, the only thing i truly know and i am convinced i could not be any happier or luckier.

i don’t know what a life without you is like literally but i wouldn’t have it any other way. the situation the world faces with this whole reset mess isn’t ideal and i’ll oftentimes think of what a normal life would be like. even then, in this perfect universe, you’re still by my side.

i still wake up next to you.

i still spend every waking moment with you.

i still fall asleep with you in my arms.

you are still my everything. i am convinced you always will be.

many people avoid love or close relationships nowadays knowing that at the end of the year it’ll all be erased no matter what. how dumb is that? they don’t know what they’re missing out on. having a partner is nothing short of a blessing and you’ve taught me that by being with me every step of the way. sure, forgetting our past together doesn’t get any easier and neither does writing these letters but i’d write a million of them if that’s what it took to have you by my side.

i can only hope you’ll continue being there for me and give me something worth remembering in future years.

you are the light of my life and i can’t wait to fall in love with you again.

yours truly,

taeyong

the tears stroll down your cheeks and drip down on to the paper in your shaky hands. you use your sleeve to try and wipe them away to the best of your ability without smudging the ink. taeyong finishes reading your letter moments later, placing on the coffee table and only staring at you with a distant look in his eyes.

your voice comes out in a whisper. “are you okay?”

he nods, sniffling but his shiny eyes say otherwise. “can you maybe just... hold me?” his voice cracks along with your heart.

he ends up with his head in your lap, your fingers pulling and tugging at his soft hair. you have a couple hours left but you wouldn’t be opposed to leaving the year in this exact position.

11:59 P.M.

taeyong has made it clear he wants you to be the first thing he sees when you enter the new year. so, you spend your last minute getting into a position that will allow that.

you end up sitting sit cross-legged across from him. he’s in the same position and in the small distance between you, your fingers meet. the hold he has on your hands is so tight his knuckles have turned white. his eyes bore into yours and although he doesn’t say a word, his hazel orbs let you know it’s all going to be okay. you repeat those words to yourself.

it’s going to be okay.

it’s going to be okay.

it’s going to be okay.

“i love you,” you blurt.

he only has a couple seconds to respond.

“i love you, too. if you’re going to remember one thing, let it be that.”

#taeyong #lee taeyong #taeyong nct #nct #nct 127 #nct imagines #taeyong imagine #taeyong x reader #taeyong fluff #taeyong angst #nct fluff #nct angst #nct dream #wayv #mark fluff #jeno imagine #jaemin fluff #nct u #jungwoo fluff #taeyong imagines #jisung fluff #mark lee #superm #doyoung imagine #not alone

[langstexmachina]

And He Slept

I just posted this as a reblog but then I put it into google docs and decided that three pages was enough to warrant it’s own post lol

Read it on ao3! 

CW: implied self harm, suicidal thoughts, shance

It had been... a long day, to say the least. Barely able to drag himself out of bed, Lance floated through the day and tried to avoid any genuine contact as he wandered through the halls. He really was doing his best to function as a normal human being. He participated in training, helped Coran with ship maintenance, and even managed to ensure that the other team members were well taken care of. Pidge was off their computer by 10 pm, Keith was out of the training room before that, and Hunk, Shiro, and Allura have been pulled from their various states of paranoia to enjoy a warm meal, all at Lance’s careful prodding. 

And that’s how they found themselves, here, in the main room, reminiscing about their time on Earth. He paid attention passively, adding a well-placed hum where it was expected. He was tired, depressed, and very far away from the present. He just couldn’t find the energy to pull himself back. So, he tried to melt into the background. It wasn’t hard to become ambient noise. He was used to that, becoming one with the backdrop. So he continued to drop auditory cues to drag more enjoyment out of the people around him. 

But god, was he tired. So fucking tired. Every movement was an extra fifty pounds added to his chest. His mouth was full of concrete. The words couldn’t force their way out even if they tried, so why try? There was nothing stopping him from cowering in the labyrinth that grew inside his mind. His personal fortress. 

So, tortured and half-aware, he barely noticed when Hunk started digging through an old backpack, searching for one thing or another. He barely registered the exasperated sigh that the man let out as he set the bag back where it once rested beside the couch. He slightly heard the frustration in his voice as he finally spoke again, “Jeez, I could have sworn I stashed that book in there but I guess I lost it.”

Lance certainly didn’t notice the way his lips formed a soft smile, a weak grimace, as he thought, Just like my will to live. 

He noticed too late that he managed to voice those thoughts through the tough coating of his throat.

He did notice the sudden stillness of the room. The silence that had taken up residence in the once light and easy atmosphere. The discomfort that had stolen all of the air in the room seemed to radiate through the room with an oppressive, overbearing force. Only then did Lance really see. Only then did he see the concern on the faces of his friends around him. The deeper worry on Shiro’s face as he saw through the carefully cultured façade that Lance had worked to diligently to perfect. 

He was choking. He couldn’t breathe. He was going to die if they kept looking at him, scrutinizing his movements. So, he swallowed the cement and cleared the dust out with a soft chuckle. 

“What’s going on guys?” The words rang hollow through his chest. This wasn’t his voice. He didn’t know this person. Who was this empty shell that had taken up ownership of his larynx? How could he evict them?

A gentle hand came to rest over his where it had begun to scratch where countless scars used to lie, long erased by his time spent in the healing pods. He looked up at Pidge who has now sat up from where they were curled against him, their small hand stilling his. 

“Are you alright, Lance?” They asked, voice soft and wavering. His eyebrows drew together. If he played this right everyone would forget. Everything would go back to normal. So, he smiled, a forced, bright, withered kind of thing. He plastered it on his face and wielded it like a shield.

“Of course I am Pidgey.” A chuckle. “It was just some dumb joke my sister and I used to make back at home.” A beat. The silence persisted. They all kept staring at him. He had to leave. He had to get out of here. 

Just as he began to puff his chest and begin to make some hasty excuse for a quick getaway, the tension in the room dissipated. It popped like a bubble and burst into ease. Keith snorted and rolled his eyes. Hunk nodded along while Pidge lightly punched him in the shoulder before curling back up into a ball at his side. Allura and Coran became absorbed back into whatever conversation had been put on pause with the discomfort of the room. Everyone seemed satisfied with Lance’s quick retort. Except Shiro, who kept watching him. Except Shiro, who kept waiting for another slip of his mask. Except Shiro, who couldn’t just let Lance exist within his fortress.

The night ended a while after his slip up. He made his way to his room, taking an easy stroll in an attempt to ensure he didn’t look like he was running from anything. He made it, sat on his bed, stared up at the ceiling and just breathed. His eyes fell closed when he heard a soft knock at his door. A sigh fell from his lips as he forced himself to answer, “Come in, Shiro.”

The man, not unlike a child caught doing something naughty, let himself in to the cramped room. There was no reason to pretend now. Shiro knew. So, he continued to sit, eyes closed, head tilted back as the other man made himself comfortable on his knees before him. Hard, calloused, hands softly caressed his calves and he felt those grey eyes rest on his face. 

A long silence passed between them before Shiro finally spoke up, “You wanna talk about it?”

A long sigh drew its way through Lance’s chest.

“No, not particularly.” Shiro’s hands tightened against the muscles in his legs and finally, Lance opened his eyes and let them connect with the man in front of him. 

“I think we should.” The response came. He shook his head. 

“No, no. It’s nothing. I’m just tired.” Shiro let out a soft hum at this. 

“Alright,” He stood up and toed out of his shoes. “Let’s sleep.” Lance sputtered.

“I’m sorry, what?” He felt his cheeks reddening. 

Shiro crowded into the bed and took up residence on the side touching the wall before grabbing Lance by the waist and dragging him down to lay beside him.

“You’re hurting, Lance.” The quiet that followed was deafening. “You’re hurting and you think you’re alone, but you’re not.” He whispered into the darkness. “It’s okay if I can’t help you with that hurt right now, but I won’t let you think you’re alone in this. I can’t.”

And the war that had been raging on inside Lance’s head had begun to pull their punches slightly as Shiro’s breath evened out. The tides of water that kept him under began to recede as he listened to the strong beating of Shiro’s heart beneath his ear.

And he slept. 

#Lance #lance vld #voltron lance #shiro #shiro vld #voltron shiro #voltron #voltron legendary degender #vld #langst #angst #fic #vld fic #lance centric #day writes #implied self harm #suicidal thoughts #suicidal lance #depressed lance #shiro is a good boyfriend #shance #shiro/lance #lance/shiro

[heliosthegriffin]

Vacuo’s Rainman Chapter One

AN: I’ve had this laying around in my google docs for like a year. I don’t know if I’ll post a second chapter or not, I have a plot line, but I don’t know if I can follow up on, because this writes some different from me now. But I’ll try eventually. Now onto the story!

In the living room of the Arc family's house sat a three-year-old Jaune Arc dressed in blue overalls with a yellow undershirt playing with a toy dump truck rolling over some plastic Beowolves while the tv sounded in the background. His father, Nicholas Arc, sat there contently watching his only child play while making aggressive and nearly disturbing sounds of Beowolves meeting their demise. He thought to himself, while slightly worried but happy nonetheless, "He'll make a fine Hunter one day," He paused in thought as the love of his life came down the stairs with something behind her back. "If his mother ever lets him go... Not like I'm any better, though." His mind remembering his extensive measures taken for his son.

The sound of snapping and hysterical giggles brought Nicholas Arc out of his memories, and he turned to look at his beloved with his most confident and dashing smile, saying, "Yes, my Dearest?"

She stared at him for a good 4 seconds saying nothing before bursting out laughing, driving a flush onto the veteran hunters face while getting a chilling sense of nostalgia of his first encounter with Juniper.

Still laughing, his wife spoke to him. "Puh-please, don't do those goofy smiles of yours; they tear me up inside!" Face again flushing the Arc said with embarrassment and a little annoyance that his wife still found his dashing good looks laughable. "Whatever just tell me what's up, Jaunes playing, and I want to watch."

The toddler in question was still playing but giving the occasional over the shoulder glance at his parents over what had his mom cracking up; he hoped it was his dad making funny faces again.

Juniper looked over humming merrily before looking back. "Weell, let's just say that after today Jaune won't be the only one you'll be watching play..." She said playfully letting the sentence stop.

The older Arc looked nonplussed and asked: "What did you find Jaune a playmate or something?"

She hummed some more. "Well, I guess you could say that, but they'll be much younger."

"Ok, then." The Hunter said. "Good for Jaune then, he needs more friends." His wife looked at him for some reason he couldn't figure out.

His wife spoke again: "They'll be here every day, and you'll be looking after them too..." His wife once again trailed off.

‘Why does she keep doing that?’ Nicholas thought to himself, "Alright then, did we get new neighbors or did you meet someone that has a kid around Jaunes age?" The man of the house questioned.

"No." His wife deadpanned.

"Then, where on Remnant did you find a playmate for Jaune? Did my sister finally get pregnant? Oh, was it your brother? I always thought he'd make a great father!" Her annoyingly dense at times husband said confused and then excitedly.

"No! Right here!" She shouted, grabbing his hand and putting it on her stomach and showing him a pregnancy test.

He flushed and looked at Jaune sitting mere feet away and blushed harder.

"H-Honey, I appreciate the enthusiasm, but Jaune's right there! He's too young to learn, and I haven't had time to wash up, I mean-" The man started to stammer. Many things the Arc Patriarch is good at, but reading in between the lines was not one of those things. 

"Ugg," The woman groaned, and then looked at the pregnancy test and realized it was backward and groaned much, much harder.

"Honey, please! The boy's right there; this is something I rather tell him than show him!" The man said, stammering harder.

She quickly flipped the test around and showed him the positive results, and said: "You're going to be a freaking father again, Nicholaus!"

"Oh, why didn't you just say so; Wait, what?" The man said, doing a double take.

A goofy grin reminiscent of a specific future goofy blonde appeared on his beautiful wife's face. "I said you're going to be a father again." She said tears began well in her eyes.

Nicholas's face went blank briefly before returning with the biggest smiles his wife had ever seen. Picking her up and grabbing her, he brought her into a tight, but gentle hug.

Juniper could only blush at her husband's sudden explosive affection, wanting to dwell at that moment forever.

Her husband drew her into a kiss before he put her down, only to stop once they heard a childish "Ew, Gross!" from behind them, seeing the young Jaune Arc looking at them like they were insane.

Juniper blushed a bit, while Nicholas just got down on a knee and called his son over. "Jaune! Come over here; we've got something important to tell you!"

Jaune listened, as that excited tone from his father always meant something good was about to happen.

Wiggling his way over to his father, he asked. "What is it, daddy?" Jaune said, knowing his dad like to be called that, and making his dad happy usually meant more goodies.

Under any other circumstances, his father would have internally squealed at being called daddy, but today was different. He took Jaune by the hands and picked him up.

"Jauney..." His father said, trailing off. "Today everything changes; you're going to be a brother!" His father practically squealed, making his mom nearly double over laughing.

Little Jaune could only look at his father, "What's a bra-thar?" The child said, trying to sound out the word.

His father tossed him up a little into the air, eliciting a squeal of joy from Jaune, before adjusting him to a more comfortable position.

"Well, Jauney a brother is kind of like... Well... Um? Juniper help?" His father said to his mother, not quite able to explain to his son what he was about to be.

"Bring him here, Nicholas," His mother said, sitting down.

He did and put Jaune down his mother's lap. "Jaune, give me your hand, please." He did, and his mother put his hand on her stomach. 

"Jaune, what do you feel?"

"Warm, tired." He said with a yawn, starting to drift his head back and forth.

"Well, inside of me is something warm, and it's tired too, asleep actually."

"Is it your heart? Why's your heart asleep?" He asked full of childish innocence.

His mom laughs. "No, Jauney it's not mamas heart, no it's a little person like you. They're asleep inside of mama, and in a couple of months they'll come out, they going to live with us, and daddy and mama are going to take care of them like you, and you Jauney... Are going to be their big brother."

They're that word again; what did it mean? The child thought to himself, "Ok, but what's a brother."

His mom looked little tense, herself not quite knowing how to answer, before sighing and just decided to wing it and go from the heart. "You're... They're protector!"

Jaune's eyes widened. "Protector? Like a hero!?" he squealed excitedly.

His mom nodded her head, seeing an easy way out. "Yes, Jauney, you're going to protect them like a hero! You're going to love them, protect them, and guide them when mommy and daddy aren't here. That's what being a brother means."

It took a moment for the words to sink in. "That's... So awesome!" Jaune said with blind excitement, still not fully realizing what being a brother meant, but happy for it.

Jaune hopped off his mother's lap and went back over to his toys, picking them up to take back to his room.

"Jaune, what are you doing?" His father called out.

"I got to start training now if I want to be a good protector by the time they're here!" He said, taking his toys up the stairs.

His mother and father could only smile at each other before making eye contact, an unspoken conversation happening, both agreeing.

Juniper Green Arc rose up and kissed her husband's cheek, saying "Go, go and help him. You know how you Arc's are when you get motivated."

He nuzzled his nose against hers. "Well, you would too. It's how I got you to love me." Nicholas said sweetly to his darling wife.

She lets out a dry laugh. "Ha, that or the fifty times you asked me out, and I finally realized how cute your pout is. Oh, there it is right now." She said with a laugh.

Nicholas, definitely not pouting, said with a huff. "Couldn't say it was my dashing good looks, could you?" She merely laughed again. "Alright, fine. I'm going to go teach Jauney the basics of footwork." He said with a flush face but moved with excitement.

"Make sure you don't hurt yourselves!" Juniper called out to her husband moving up the stairs, watching the other things that drew her to her husband, from that tight body and cute butt to the confident way he carried himself when he was happy, oh, how she loathed seeing him down, it was like watching a puppy die. Oh, and who could forget those beautiful blue eyes, and that luscious blonde hair. Gods, the Arc genes just had it all; it was downright unfair to the competition.

She chuckled at the memories of having to scare off more than a few would be seductress, not that her husband knew either too love blind or dense to notice, more than likely the latter as according to one of his former teammate from Beacon, he had more than one girl after him at the time and he never noticed too focus on being a hunter, only realizing years later on a mission. His teammate still laughed at the memory of him screaming wildly into the night, and she did too after she saw the video.

Juniper mentally then began preparing herself for going back to Atlas, as Nicholas Arc had sworn an Arc promise to see her safely through any pregnancies, and an Arc never goes back on their word. 

Ha, at least she wouldn't be alone this time. Little Jaune would be there with her, and that's all that mattered, no doubt the Fervent Hunter of Ansel would be making a reappearance soon.

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My parents were acting weird, the first thing after teaching me how to move funny, and making a promise to practice every day, dad made me and mom go live in the hospital far away from home, and I knew it was far away cause he saw the land go bye bye from the plane. 

Then mom started to get fat, like real fat, but just on her belly and then got sick like every morning. I guess that's why she in the hospital, not sure why I'm here, I miss dad, but he comes by sometimes.

Mom says it helps that I'm here, I don't get why though. But as long as mom is happy, I'm happy.

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Juniper holding her baby in her arms felt more than saw her husband enter the building, the constant shaking on the floor was a dead give away.

The shaking got louder as she felt her husband's presence down the hallway, all that stood between them was a dusteel electronically locked, bomb proof door.

The poor door never stood a chance as it was in between her and him. 

The door flew off with a thunderous clap and got stuck in the wall, never had she been gladder that she had sent Jaune, and the employees away, she did not want another incident like her last pregnancy, that unfortunate man to get in the way was still recovering.

"Is it true?" Her husband said with nary, a huff, presumably running from wherever he was to her after the nurse called him to tell him that his wife had gone into labor.

Holding up her newest addition to the family as evidence, Juniper said, "Yes." With tears in her eyes.

Nicholas stood in the doorway, looking with awe at his child. "Is the baby a," Nicholas began to ask, "A girl, a beautiful baby girl." His wife answered.

The man nearly began to break down, crying there as he moved over to his wife.

"Have you thought of a name for her yet?" He asked in between sob, never thinking he'd make it this far again after their first experience.

"No," His wife answered back, "I was... Thinking Jaune should try and think of a name for her." Juniper said sheepishly.

Bewildered, her husband looked up from their child and at her. "Wha?" Was the only thing to come to mind for the papa arc.

"Now, Nicholas, it's just Jaune's been cooped up in here with me for the last nine months, I thought that he should at least have a say-" Juniper began to stammer, till Nicholas took her hand and looked her in the eyes.

"It's fine Juniper, if you think it's a good idea, I believe you... And we can regret it after you get off this pain medication." He said with complete seriousness.

They stared each other in the eyes before lapsing into laughter, barely managing to keep from waking their daughter.

Recovering from the joke, Juniper grabbed her husband's shoulder "Go find the nurses and get Jaune in here, please."

He smiles at her, "Sure thing, honey." Giving her a quick kiss before he left.

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Jaune was with the nurses thinking to himself that now it wasn't just his parent acting weird. The nice ladies were all acting weird too, making him leave mom when she started screaming, saying something like how children aren't meant to see this. Why? Mom's in pain, he needs to be there so he can kiss the boo-boo and so it can get better. That's what mom and dad would do for him.

That's when the nice ladies told him his dad was here, and that they were taking him to see him, and someone special. But, who's special? Everybody he cares about is here, well besides that white-haired girl he met a couple of days ago. She was mean but made him feel funny, like not sick or laughing, but more like his heart was happy. He wishes he knew her name.

Maybe it's Uncle Toe or Aunt Sissy? But they already left a couple of hours ago when they started letting people say hi to mom again, but they still won't let me see her yet.

Seeing his dad though made all those thoughts drop out of his mind, Jaunes face lighting up like the sun crossing over the horizon, seeing his father for the first time in weeks. Nicholas was no different from his son giving a smile that could warm even the iciest of hearts and more valuable than gold, also unwittingly distracting several passing nurses and one white-haired woman with an almost stunned expression.

Jaune shouted out to his father as he ran to him. "Dad!" Accidentally crushing the hearts of the nurses watching, and also warming them at the same time. The ivory-haired woman didn't seem to mind, though, taking a photo of the scene.

"Jauney!" His father said back as he caught him and spun him around, before showering him in kisses acrosses the forehead and cheeks. Eliciting several coos and daws from the peanut gallery, unaware of being filmed by a snow-hair woman.

"Jaune, I've got something significant to show you. Ready?" His father asked to which the only response was nodding his head.

The pair walked away, letting the nurses disperse while the white-haired woman stayed and watched them leave only stopping when a small, regal little girl called out behind her. 

"Mother? What are you watching?" The white-haired child asked.

"Oh, nothing, Winter, just... Nothing." She said, walking the other way, her daughter following her. Replaying the natural sight of warmth in her head over and over again, a view the woman had not seen since her childhood.

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The pair entered his mother's room, and Jaune was let down to see his mom.

"So, where is the important person? Where? Where?" The boy asked impatiently.

His mother giggled and shifted her body to show the baby breathing lightly in her arms. "This is her Jaune, your little sister."

Jaune squinted his eyes looking at her, trying to figure out what had everyone so worked up over her. "Hmm, is she sick?"

His parents gasped at that. "What?! No, Jaune, she is perfectly healthy!" His mother said to him.

"Ok, but then why is everyone so interested in her?" Jaune asked with all the logic his young brain could muster.

"Because she's your little sister; that's why!" His dad said, hoping he wouldn't have to explain what a sister is. Luckily enough, though, his mother covered that.

"Oh, ok, then." The boy responded, looking a little disinterested trying for the life of him to figure out why the baby was getting so much attention.

"Well?" His mom asked him.

"Well, what?" The boy answered.

"Do you want to hold your baby sister?" His mother asked excitedly.

He seemed to consider this for a moment before accepting her, his father and mother carefully setting him down between them and instructing him on how to hold her.

His baby sister felt heavy, but also not heavy in arms, Jaune thought, like he suddenly had all the weight of his toys in hand but scared that if he dropped one, they all would fall and break. Too important to let go of, was a good short version of the feeling. The feeling was weird, like his parents.

"What's her name?" The little boy asked, unflinchingly staring at the baby.

His mom put on a wide grin at the question, and his father merely smiled happily.

"Well, Jaune, I hoping you might come up with one." Juniper Arc said warmly.

The boys head almost shot up, but scared to hurt the baby he merely looked to his mom and asked: "Why?"

His mother drew him into her embrace and told him. "Jaune, you've been here with me for nine months, helping me when I need it and being with me, you've been just as important to making sure she got here safely as dad and me," His mother said with some exaggeration.

The boy's eyes widened, "Really?"

His mother nodded, and so did his father.

"Jaune, remember you're going to be her protector, her brother, you're going to take care of her as much as Dad and I, so go ahead and think of a name for her," Juniper said to her nearly four-year-old son. Which reminded her his birthday was in two months. Nicholas though already remembered and bought a present in advance.

It was at this moment everything began to change for young Jaune Arc, no longer was he just Jaune Arc, son of Juniper and Nicholas Arc, only child and friendless, but from this day forward, big brother and protector of his sister.

The boy nodded to his parents with fire in his eyes, seeming to shine a brilliant sapphire to his parents at that moment.

The protector looked to his new charge and staring at the pale creature in swaddling blankets. Her eyes were closed, and she was breathing softly, he could barely make out her heart as he held her close. He could scarcely see any hair on the creatures head, but what he could see was bright and shiny like his.

Staring at his sister for what felt like hours, till the right name came to mine and finally answered, "Rayonner! I think she should be Rayonner!" The boy said to his parents, who had fallen asleep behind him, cuddle together. 

He looked to the window, no light. He had been thinking for hours.

He looked down at the baby as it started to move, and he adjusted the child so that it would see him when she awoke.

The child stirred for minutes at a time till she finally awoke and saw him. 

She didn't scream; she didn't cry, nor did she whine.

No all she did was a yawn and stared at him with the most brilliantly green eyes he has ever seen — the same color as moms. The boy thought to himself.

He waved a hand in front of Rayonner, "Hi, Rayonner, I'm your brother, it's nice to meet you finally. I've been hearing about how'd you be here for months now, and your finally here! It's awesome to have you here."

The baby looked it's green into his blues, and then with its newborn arms reached up grabbing his hand, giggling and falling back to sleep comfortably.

The boy then at the moment finally got what was so important about this baby, and then once again everything changed. His heart swelled and found himself looking around the room, worry seeping into his soul. 

The boy finally understood fear, fear for someone other than yourself.

It was at that moment his dad woke up to see his son pacing around the dark room looking around for... Brother's know what, while keeping a solid hold on his newborn sister.

"Jaune? What are you doing?" His father asked sleepily.

The boy shot around to look at his father before rushing over. "Dad! Good, you can keep Rayonner safe, while I make sure there's no monster under the bed!" 

The father had no words for how confused he was. His son already under the bed and then out the other side looking in the closet, making just enough sound to wake his mother.

"Wha?" His mother said sleepily.

The father merely shrugged and waited for his son to tire himself out.

The mother tried to go back to sleep.

Their child didn't stop though, and he kept patrolling and looking, armed with nothing but butter knife, looking for any danger that might harm his baby sister.

It was around an hour late that they put a stop to it and asked what was wrong.

"Jaune, come here." His mother commanded.

The boy complied but stuck his butter knife in his pants.

"Did you ever think of a name for your sister?" His mom asked.

"Yes, it's Rayonner! I already told dad," He looked at his dad. "Why didn't you tell her dad?"

Nicholas Arc shrugged. "I thought I was still asleep." A valid answer as any.

Juniper Arc stared at her husband, before realizing she was too tired, but couldn't sleep till she found out what was wrong with her boy.

"That's a good name, Jaune, but what's got you scared? You're usually so brave, what's wrong honey?" She asked as nicely as she could after only getting four hours of sleep after giving birth to a nine-pound baby.

"I'm scared there might be a monster in here that wants to eat Rayonnner!" The boy said with fear in his tone.

The mother looked at the father, the father looked at the mother and shrugged, holding his baby to his chest.

"Why do you think that, Jaune?" Nicholas said tiredly.

"I-I don't know, and it's just ever since I named her, It's like the only thing I can think of. Like if I put her down for a moment that she'd disappear or someone will hurt her!" The boy shouted out worriedly.

The father looked increasingly worried for his son until his wife then burst out laughing, realizing what her son was doing. Like father like son.

Juniper whispered to her husband, a smile crept over the man's face, and he nodded.

He put a hand down on his son's shoulders, who was still looking for monsters. 

"Jaune, do you want to protect your sister?"

"Yes! What do you think I've been trying to do for the last hour!"

"Well if you want to protect your sister from monsters, then swear on your Arc name that you won't let any monster hurt her." His dad said proudly. Unaware of the drastic consequences that would come from this.

"Yeah! That's a great idea, daddy! If I say that I'm protecting her, then the monsters will have to come after me first! Lets do it!" The boy said excitedly.

"Alright, Jaune, all you have to is swear on the Arc name." His father said, both well aware of the meaning of the act.

"Ok. I, Jaune Arc, swear on my name as an Arc to protect my sister from the darkness, and the light, from the worse of man and faunuskind, from the Grimm and the monsters. That should they bring harm upon her that I will use the full extent of my power to destroy anything that would hurt her, I solemnly swear on my name as an Arc!" The boy said with a level of confidence and power that shocked both parents.

His father, a faint trail of tears, going down his face, and his mother squealed and picked up him up and crushed him against her chest. "My little boy is growing up!"

"Yeah, he is." The father said, wiping his tears away, noticing how dark it is. "It's also time we get to sleep, and this bed isn't big enough for all of us, so say goodnight to mom and Rayonner."

"I can't stay here?" The boy asked, sadly.

His father shook his head. "No, you might get them sick, if you're around Rayonner too much right now, but don't worry, Rayonner, and mom will be home with us tomorrow."

That brought a smile to the steadily growing, tired boy. "Alright, night, mom, night, Rayonner love you." He said, giving a kiss to both on the cheek and forehead.

He gestured for his dad to pick him up, which he did, and they walked out.

"Hey, dad," Jaune said to his father as they walked out of the hospital.

"Yes, Jauney?"

"I mean it. I am going to keep Rayonner safe, no matter what." The child said with all of his might, which sounded suspiciously like a yawn.

"I know Jauney, I know, and I'll keep you safe till you can keep yourself and her safe."

"Thank dad; I love you." The little boy said, drifting off to sleep in his father's warm, safe embrace.

"I love you too Jaune, so much that you cannot even imagine what I'd do to keep you safe." The boy's father said in barely a whisper to his sounds sleeping form.

#Toddler!Jaune #Nicholas Arc #Juniper Arc #Arc Family #Light-hearted #Fluffy

[youarejesting]

Quarantine.7

[Masterlist] Pairing: BTS x reader Friends2Lovers But as slow as you can go until the anticipation kills us all… Genres: friendship, drama, romance SLOWEST OF BURNS BUT IT WILL BE BURNING AN ETERNAL FLAME!!! Rating: PG-13 and above Summary: Your brother works with a few BigHit dance teams and whilst having permission to accompany him at work the city shuts down banning anyone from stepping outside for a whole WEEK while they disinfect the streets. If you step outside you might get arrested, shot or poisoned by the chemicals they are emitting through the city. Words: 2.7k Announcement: Sorry that I posted this late the reason why is I had this complete at 8:30pm but my google doc decided to take my edited version and my unedited version and layer them on top of each other so naturally, I wanted to knock myself out with a hammer. After a long shower, I painstakingly worked on it as even the google docs history hadn’t saved the edited version. 

[Part 1]  [Part 6]  [Part 8]   [Tag Yourself Here]

You had a major major breakdown. Why did it hurt so bad? Was it the disappointment on Hoseok's face? You crawled out of your makeshift tub and wrapped yourself in a towel. Slipping on clean underwear and a hoodie you trudged back into your little home if you will. Eyes which were swollen and red from your tears becoming heavy. The door to the storage room opened, there in the doorway stood Taehyung “Annyong,” his deep tone filled the room as you watched his tiny gestures. He had wrapped himself in his blanket and hugged his pillow. 

“What is it,” You were finding it hard to be blunt with him as he was so gentle and innocent. He was a fully matured young man, he had his moments of perversion or pranks but overall he didn’t have a malicious bone in his body. 

“Can I sleep beside you?” Nodding too exhausted and sad to say no. He shut the door and waddled over, laying down beside you and making himself comfortable. After a few minutes of fluffing his pillow and removing your blanket and laying his bigger blanket over you both. Despite the extra room his blanket gave, he pulled you close wrapping his arms around you. You fit perfectly in his arms, letting out an audible whine as your breasts felt so soft behind your hoodie. He tried to think about other things like his favourite painter’s while singing under his breath anything to distract from your presence. The plain vanilla scent that emanated from your skin had him pressing his nose to your neck. 

Every time you started to fall asleep he would moan your name and hug you tighter. Only settling when you wrapped him in your arms. His face up close was so inhuman, his sharp jaw and angular nose, the ratios between his eyes nose and lips were perfect, the symmetry everything. It was too good to be true. His personality was so gentlemanly as well it was like he just stepped out of a romance novel. Not the fifty shades kind where they have a haunting and mysterious backstory no this was the kind that is always there and the female lead doesn’t notice how good he is until the end and everything has a happy end.

Except this wasn’t the case, there was no love story here. People as perfect and gentle as Taehyung, they end up with; kind, generous and drop-dead gorgeous people. Even you wanted that for him. When you finally managed to fall asleep you were trapped in some romcom nightmare. Where your hunky neighbour and best friend Taehyung was trying to get you to fall in love with him. You had given in towards the end when he had saved your life in the dream. Taehyung lent in to kiss you, however, an inch away he pulled back and it was actually Hoseok. He looked at you in disgust and hurt. “I guess we weren’t friends after all”

Ripped from your dream with a jolt you accidentally startled Taehyung. It was useless to try to get out of his grip, you were supposed to be forgetting about them. You weren’t supposed to be worrying about Taehyung’s need for skinship and you definitely weren’t supposed to be hung up on Hoseok who was all you could think about. Him repeating those words ‘I guess we weren’t friends after all’.

“I missed you, why have you been hiding from us?” Taehyung hummed, finally addressing the subject of your disappearance the days prior. His hands slid up under your hoodie and his soft fingertips drew soft circles on your back. You don’t know if Taehyung knew the things he did were very romantic gestures one might do with a lover. Or if he just did whatever he wanted because it felt nice. You didn’t stop his gentle caress’ it felt too amazing on your jelly-like muscles. Instead, you pretended not to particularly enjoy the time you spent with him. Not saying anything that could ruin his innocent and happy bubble so early in the morning. 

“Tae I have to go for a shower,” You thought this time a hot shower was needed, your muscles were in quite a bad way. The journey to the bathroom and shower and the actions required to get there and undress seemed both impossible and daunting. 

“No don’t leave, I want to hug you” Did he not realise he was already hugging you? Your resolve wavered for a moment with the idea that maybe you could let him in and be nice. But the moment passed quickly and you sat up out of his arms he had rolled onto his chest pouting and kicking his legs under the blanket. His fake square mouth crying almost made you laugh and he noticed sitting up with a smirk. 

“Tae it’s just a shower”

“Take me with you,” he pinched your hoodie between his thumb and forefinger, you blushed causing him to beam a brilliant megawatt smile, maybe he knew what he was doing all along. You tried to get up eyes watering in pain, he held on firmly to the hem of your clothes. “Take me with you, it’s not the first time we have showered together” 

“Fine come on let’s shower, grab some clean clothes,” you said trying to pull his hand off your hoodie without flashing your underwear. He was frozen, his mouth falling open as he licked his lip, the idea of showering with you had been stuck in his mind ever since his drunken ordeal some nights ago. You managed to slip away from his grip and ducked quickly to the bathroom, remembering to lock the door behind you. 

You were shampooing your hair when you heard him try the door and whine “you're a liar!” His cry made you unknowingly smile from safe and unseen behind the bathroom walls. Your brassiere was still drying after you showered in your clothes. Dressing in black shorts and a white button-up you decided to go without, to be safe you threw on a black blazer. You didn’t want for any reason the shirt to become see-through and reveal your thing is if you were going without a bra it had to be a look. 

You put your hair in a business-appropriate style, your makeup was done with a dark lip tint and a slight bit of contouring of your cleavage. Adding jewellery you had found in the boxes. Simple geometric chain earring and layered geometric shape necklaces that had a chain that fell between your breasts both in silver. After slipping on some black heeled boots and looked in the mirror. 

This was the look. You were fierce and ready to take on anything. When you left the bathroom Taehyung wasn’t there. Walking down the corridor you called for the elevator checking yourself out in the stainless steel doors. You couldn’t stop the small amount of concern that coursed through you for the boys to be impressed. 

The people in the cafeteria were staring at you. Acting like it was no big deal as you confidently strode across the floor. The servers looked you over, shifting almost ashamed in their tracksuits, You made sure to be polite and compliment them. You weren’t a total bitch, nor did you think you were better than anyone here. They were talking hastily in Korean. Collecting your meal you turned to face the room. Areum waved at you from across the cafeteria. She was such a nice young woman, she had a boyfriend who face-timed her daily he was stuck in their apartment with their cats. She listened to your problems and even gave you great advice. 

Waving back, she looked pretty in the dresses you had given her which were too small for you. She looked a lot less dishevelled having access to your secret shower you had given her a time slot where she could shower, in hopes that it was never congested in the basement. You didn’t want people to start wondering why everyone was hanging out down there. For the safety of the bathroom, you removed the sign on the door. So if anyone happened to go down there it looked like just another storage room. Aiming to sit next to your brother for lunch. He had, of course, threatened you to come out of the basement or he would give your secret shower location away to all the employees. 

You carried your tray, walking slowly across the cafeteria floor. Still not spotting your brother. You ignored Taehyung's wave from their table. Someone snatched your tray, looking at them you saw Jungkook running towards the band’s table. Yoongi and Jimin wrapped their arms around your shoulders and waist, leading you without a chance to escape. Sitting you down trapped between them. Namjoon and Seokjin sat across from you both scanning your face and outfit. 

“Ya don’t pout we aren’t that bad,” Seokjin said pointing his chopsticks at you and snapping them threateningly. It wasn’t a real threat he looked rather amused, his eyes glancing to the unbuttoned section of your shirt every now and again. Hoseok refused to speak while eating his breakfast and whenever he was spoken to he merely shrugged. You ate your breakfast in mostly silence, answering them only when they asked you a question. 

Once breakfast was over you handed your tray over to the kitchen helpers and when you turned you saw Hoseok tongue pressed against his cheek staring at your ass in the shorts you were wearing. Whoever Gfriend was? They had some cute and stylish outfits. The others announced they were going to go get ready for the day, You went to the dance studio followed by Hoseok who sat at the back of the room watching you. You danced for about half an hour before the rest of the boys came in sitting beside Hoseok and cheering you on. The song you were halfway through dancing to had a lot you could relate to in your current situation. Dancing out your feelings. 

Hoseok had seen it the moment it started the regression and depression in your eyes, he knew when you stopped leaving the basement, that something was wrong. When you started hiding from them in the halls and dodging them he knew they must have said something to hurt you. He thought it showed how much they cared, how completely wrapped around your finger they were. When you came back from the supply run gasping and begging for water he was the one to get it. But hearing you say that they didn’t care because they were famous. He wasn’t expecting that at first, he was hurt and mad because none of that was true, but the more he thought about it he knew you were right about one thing. Without the quarantine, you might not have met. 

He wondered how he could make you trust them, that they wouldn’t just leave you when this was over, but he didn’t know for sure if they would even have time to hang out after. You had a right to be upset. No amount of makeup you wore could conceal the puffiness around your eyes. And here you were again a few tears falling as you put your soul into your dance. 

You spun a complete circle ready for the chorus, only to spot Hoseok in the mirror dancing beside you. Copying some of your choreography that you had been repeating every chorus and when you kicked your leg up he caught it. Pulling you forward to fall against his strong chest. They all didn’t look like much but they were all so very strong. While still holding your leg he wrapped his free arm around your back. Lifting you slightly and walking you back towards the mirror, you were both panting chest to chest your leg secure in his hand above your head. 

You felt the stretch in your hamstring and groaned. Your muscles were still sore. Turning your head away, not wanting to be a part of whatever it was he thought he was doing. He whispered in Korean his thumb brushing your cheek which you hadn’t realised was damp from tears. Pushing him away you straightened up both feet firmly planted on the ground. 

You grabbed your things and tried to leave, you were getting too emotional. They were trying to get close to you again. Didn’t Hoseok say that you weren’t friends? Namjoon stopped you grabbing your arm. “Did we do something wrong?”

“No” You refused to look at him and his grip tightened slightly as he tried to stop you struggling. “Look, I am just preparing for when the quarantine is over and we never see or speak to each other again because you boys are Korean celebrities and I am just a random foreigner who took your interest for a few days”

“Hey that’s not how we see you,” he said but you didn’t want to hear it, it could only make it worse if he actually said they thought of you as their actual friend. Because then you would get attached and when this was all over you would have to learn to cope never being able to see them again. Because of their crazy work schedule. What was the point of being friends? You knew you didn’t think this way, you would happily wait for them no matter how long their schedule was your whole life would be on pause for them. It was a dangerous way to live.

Passing Areum your head down, she called to you. Ducking into the elevator the doors closed on the shadow of a figure running towards it calling your name. The doors shut giving you a place to let your guard down, except when the door opened once more and you were met with the gorgeous sight of Kim Seokjin. He stepped inside and closed the doors. He hit the basement button and leaned back against the wall panting. 

“I got to work out more” you passed the second floor and he turned walking over. “You are right we Korean idols, we aren’t allowed to date, or hook up with anyone”

He tucked your hair behind your ear. “But that doesn’t mean our feelings aren’t real we are human” he reached up his palm covering the Elevator camera and he tilted your head up with his free hand. His face was so close and his eyes burning in anger. Anger that you could only assume was aimed at the very same idol status that was holding back from life. His breathing shook either from the chase or from the raw emotion he was feeling. “That doesn’t mean we don’t want to”

You were struck once in the chest, it was like the strike of lightning. He opened his mouth to speak but closed it once more unsure of the right words. The problem with the service elevator is it moved slower than the others, so you finally passed the first floor. And like that his lips were on yours. They were so soft and slid with such ease across yours. His warm tongue joining in and he tilted his head deepening the kiss and pressing you further against the wall. You felt helpless like Seokjin and the boys were an ocean at high tide and what was once shallow water had risen up around your knees and pulled you in. But every time it pulled you in it pushed you back. You were going to drown you just knew it. He was breathing heavily and audibly. Not wanting this to stop as he was finally feeling free, he finally was able to act on something. 

All too soon the elevator slowed. He placed his free hand on the wall beside your head and pushed against it, straightening himself back up. Looking up at him, he seemed to recall his blank demeanour now that his hand was removed from the security camera. Feeling your heart drop, disappointed eyes stinging as you tried to hold back tears. You punched Seokjin in the chest, you were too exhausted and weren’t particularly trying to hurt him. “Stop playing with my emotions. Is this funny to you?”

Storming off you went to your ‘home’ and curled up in your blanket, your hand drifting to your lips as you could still feel him there. You could still taste him. The memories wouldn’t stop replaying and you hated how it felt so good. You were having a panic attack and as luck would have it, your asthma puffer was four floors above you.

[Part 1]  [Part 6]  [Part 8]  [Tag Yourself Here]

Tags:  @bubbletae7​ @lovemusicandotps​ @taetaeb @seveniefive​ @w0lfqu33n​ @anaiss97​ @moccahobi​ @maddymal​

#bts #bangtan sonyeondan #bts x reader #bts quarantine #bts covid19 #bts covid2020 #bts smut #bts fluff #bts fanfic #bts fic #bts imagines #bts reactions #bts scenarios #kim namjoon #kim seokjin #min yoongi #jung hoseok #park jimin #kim taehyung #jeon jungkook #jin x reader #suga x reader #jhope x reader #namjoon x reader #jimin x reader #taehyung x reader #jungkook x reader

[kaylinpak]

The ArtCenter Files

I was accepted for the Fall 2020 Illustration program at ArtCenter College of Design. Just like with the post I made after being accepted to Ringling, this one will also be a list of tips I gathered during my application process. This is not a guarantee of your acceptance, but just something to help inform those looking into ArtCenter, primarily for Illustration. (You can skip to number 3 if you just want help on your portfolio.)

1.) BEFORE WORKING ON THE APPLICATION:

Please schedule either an in-person or online meeting with an Admissions counselor first. This is important as no one knows the programs and curriculum better than they do. Just by talking to a counselor about my interests, she was able to help narrow down what major would be a good fit for me, as well as give insight as to what the coursework would look like. (Not to mention portfolio help!)

ArtCenter also has different terms: Fall, Spring, and Summer. You’d have to look for the exact starting dates to determine which term would work best for you, or speak to the counselor. You can schedule a meeting with a counselor by going to ArtCenter’s website; under the Admissions tab, you will see “Schedule an appointment.” If you can’t find it, there’s also the option to either email or call the Admissions desk (both contacts on their website.) 

If you or your parents are at a loss on what to ask the counselor, consider these: Scholarships and how to get them, tuition + costs, terms, curriculum details, what the major is like, show examples of your work + get feedback, and how well-connected the school is (ie internship opportunities).

2.) WORKING ON THE APPLICATION:

If you decided ArtCenter is a good fit, make sure you don’t immediately jump into the portfolio. The Application is equally important; personally I prefer to complete it first. Under the Admissions tab, you will find the link to the Application Requirements page, which lays out all the steps like a checklist. Either bookmark it or write them down so you can keep track what of you’ve completed!

3.) (ILLUSTRATION) PORTFOLIO HELP:

You will be uploading your pieces to ArtCenter’s SlideRoom. There’s a page on ArtCenter’s website that details what the portfolio requires, but I’ll copy and paste it so I can refer to it for the rest of my post. I’m writing this in 2020, so please check the site yourself in case there are changes. 

“Submit 10 to 15 figure drawings from a live model that include both gestural and more developed pieces. Other observational drawings from life are also required such as self-portraits or portraits of others, sketches of animals and scenes from nature and cityscapes. Include imaginative drawings that demonstrate your passion for and understanding of illustration in both color and black and white.

Submit three or more pieces that highlight drawing or painting skills, and show the development of a story or concept. Sketchbooks that display a range of interests and skills are welcome and we recommend a limit of 10 to 15 sketchbook pages submitted as one PDF.”

What if you don’t have any pieces that fit into this? Here are some of my ideas: 

Figure Drawing: If you can, sign up for figure drawing classes. Speaking as someone who has some art school experience, please don’t just search up nude figures and draw those for your portfolio, especially if you’ve never drawn figures before, unless you have absolutely no choice. That’s what I had done in high school, but taking actual figure drawing classes in college made me realize that having a teacher to give you advice and look for your mistakes helps you so much more. Not to mention, you will be training yourself how to quickly capture the human figure, sometimes in 1 minute or less.

Life Drawings/Observations: These are basically “cafe sketches” or observational drawings. Still lives count as long as they are polished. Googling pictures for you to draw for your portfolio should be a last resort! You don’t have to visit any where fancy to make a good portfolio piece; with practice, you can make an interesting drawing out of any subject. Start locally, and then try working out of your comfort zone if needed. First draw your friends, family, pets, rooms, or garden. Then you can move onto parks, zoos, and other public places. 

Sketchbook Pages: You can include less-polished life drawing sketches from your sketchbook in your portfolio. I also recommend sketching out your story ideas, any character designs, story boards, or comics. Be sure to include some color! Even if you think an idea is silly or dumb, sketch it anyways. You’ll then have a larger pool of sketches to choose for your portfolio.

Story Illustrations: Your illustrations do not all have to be paintings, but if you forgo the painting aspect, it should be a really strong drawing (ie with good line work and details.) Despite “illustration” being a broad term, what they are asking for aligns more with illustrations for books, and concept work for movies and games. To get inspiration, search up concept art for movies by Disney, Dreamworks, BlueSky, etc. Remember, don’t get caught too much in the scenery of your piece, your characters and their interactions in your illustration should be the main focus. Be sure to thumbnail your ideas (a rough drawing) and experiment with different composition, angles, and lighting before working on your final piece. If you are still not sure if your idea fits what ArtCenter wants, you can email an admissions counselor your work and ask for their feedback.

Tips I got from an admissions counselor: 

- Slideroom only allows 10-15 upload spaces, but there is a way to work around this if you have more than 15 pieces. You can upload PDF files; SlideRoom acts as though 1 PDF is the same as uploading one “artwork,” therefore only taking up 1 submission space even if your PDF has 10 slides on it. (Great for your figures and sketchbook! Either organize your pieces on Google Slides or PowerPoint, then save it as a PDF file.)

- You should have a mixture of traditional and digital work.

- Your sketchbook pages should feature some color even if they aren’t polished drawings.

- Aside from your illustrations, not everything in your portfolio has to be a finished drawing or “polished.” In fact, if your sketchbook has sketches of animals, landscapes, interior environments etc. that counts as a life drawing submission. 

- The presentation and order of your pieces on SlideRoom are important. Don’t have some random order like “sketchbook, paintings, animals, illustrations.” I don’t know if this is widely accepted at ArtCenter, but for my portfolio, I was told to order it like: Still life paintings, Illustrations, Sketchbook pages, Observation drawings, Figures. The only logic I gleaned from that was it was a gradual shift from the most polished work to the least. Ask a counselor if they have a preferred order.

-  Despite the minimum requirement for story illustrations being three, I was actually asked to do 4, as they felt it would make my portfolio stronger. 

4.) PORTFOLIO VIDEO ESSAY HELP:

Honestly, the site’s description couldn’t have said it any clearer. There is an entire page dedicated to its instructions, but I do have extra tips for this. SlideRoom will have its own page for you to directly upload your video file, but if the file is too big, the best solution is to upload your video essay to YouTube. Instead of submitting the video file directly, what I did was upload a PDF with the YouTube link to my video. (I made a Google Docs, copy and pasted the link, then saved it as a PDF. Yes it is allowed.) Just make sure your video is published publicly. If I can overcome my embarrassment, so can you.

5.) FINAL TIPS:

- Don’t try to study examples of accepted portfolios, as it may cause you to emulate their style or pieces in hopes of getting a higher chance of acceptance. Trust me when I say the reviewers can tell if your work lacks passion or your own creative input. 

- Find out which medium works best for you; some new passion may be discovered just from experimentation. For example, I struggled with figure drawing until I tried using Prismacolor colored pencils, which then became my go-to medium for figures. If you’re feeling bored or uninspired with one medium, go and try something new.

- PLEASE always email the admissions team for help if you’re stuck. You can even send an email asking if there were steps you missed preventing them from reviewing your application. I did, and it saved my butt. Furthermore, keeping in contact with the school in this manner helps to attach a face to an application, and may demonstrate to them that you’re really passionate about getting into the school.

I hope this was helpful, but don’t be afraid to message me with more questions! <3

#art portfolio #portfolio help #artcenter #art tips #Art College #artcollege #art center #Illustration #illustration portfolio #art help #art school

[carbootsoul]

i was tagged by @katarahairloopies!!! thank u :mwah:

name: leo! @/zeitgeistofnow on ao3, @lazypigeon & @timetohope on here, altho i’m considering uh switching back to not having an art blog :/ i have to think abt it.

fandom(s): ace attorney is my main one rn bc i’m replaying the games with a friend of mine and it’s reminding me how invested i am in the characters!! a lot of my recent fic is atla stuff, altho i’ve been distancing myself from the fandom bc i’ve kinda exhausted my interest in it. finally i’ve been reading a lot of mp100 fic but i don’t think i’ll ever write for it. i just love how dumb all the characters r (with the dubious exception of ritsu)

where you post: ao3!! tbh i always get suprised when people say they write/read fic on any other platform like i haven’t messed around w wattpad or ff.net since middle school... catch up........

most popular oneshot: going just by “one chapter” as the definition of a oneshot, the firestarters, bc it’s fluffy and modern au :) i wouldn’t necessarily call it a oneshot tho bc to me a oneshot shows like, one scene? so like by my definition and your sweet sweet sun makes me crazy (i wanna lay you down and see how you amaze me is my most popular!! (also @ kit u thought UR fic titles were unnecessarily long??? i’ve hit the ao3 LIMIT for characters in titles. it’s about the aesthetic

most popular multichapter fic: sdkjflakjlkj it’s two crowned kings; and one that stood alone, which is a w359 fic i wrote back in late 2017. it’s literally the last fic i haven’t orphaned from when i actually wrote podcast fic (i have 4 other podcast fics but they were all borne out of nostalgia and written after i stopped participating in the fandom). i rewrote all but the last chapter? the last two? about a year ago and i fucked up halfway through so like chapter 6 and 7 are repeated and there’s something missing but i’m too lazy to fix it. no one’s going to read it now anyway :) it WAS the top minlace fic for a little while tho which i take great pride in.

favorite story you’ve written so far: oh that’s a hard question akfsldkfj i honestly like most of them!! and i write a LOT so there’s a lot to choose from. tonight, we are young is def one of my favorites- it was fun to write and i got to explore the ways zuko and yue r similar, which i LOVE to do outside of a zukka/yukka view. you can lean on my arm as you break my heart  is one that i’m really proud of? the whole “cooking as an expression of bato’s love” is definitely some of my favorites. a lot of my ace attorney fics would be categoried as my favorites if i hadn’t improved, too, if that makes sense. like they’re no long my favorites because i can see where my writing is shitty and it bothers me, but if i had written them a month ago they’d be my favorite.

fic you were nervous to post: figures 1-5: killing gods def!! it’s a lot more purple-prose-y than most of my fics and it was also written before i’d kinda like emersed myself in the atla fandom so i didn’t have as good a grasp on the general understanding of zuko’s character as i do now. tbh it’s one i’m rly happy w tho!! i have a few people leave really nice comments on it and rereading them makes me really happy. also it was the start of me hating the position of fire lord and being at least passively anti-it in my fics.

how you choose your titles: they’re almost all song lyrics!! only 14 of my 50 words AREN’T song lyrics and about half of those are from before i started writing ace attorney fic lol. sometimes i go into a fic with a song in mind for the vibes and then i usually go with lyrics from that (like in ‘cuz we’re the greatest /they’ll hang us in the louvre), but otherwise i usually pick an artist i’ve been listening to and go through their songs until i find a lyric that fits. sometimes the lyric doesn’t even really fit the fic and i just chose it at random or because i searching up the word “fly” in my spotify library or whatever. honestly i like coming up with titles? i know a lot of fic writers hate it but being able to just use song lyrics is v soothing for me and while i know that most people won’t search out a song just bc it’s a fic title like.. seeing that the title of a fic is a hozier lyric does affect how i read it and i kinda like that.

do you outline? i outline my long form/multichaptered fics with varying strictness. usually anything over ~8k will have some kind of outline. sometimes i go into it with every single scene planned out, sometimes it’s just notes on the side of the google doc that say “it's about MORE family. about how it's not betraying your existing family to find more” and “scenes i want to include: [...]” and “vampires... ngl kinda hot.” i’m trying to outline super strictly less bc i’ve found it’s less fun? but i do try to keep a plot arc in mind. since most of my fics are more character-driven than plot-driven, that usually just means keeping track of what character development i want to happen or what is motiviating the characters. 

complete: um everything posted on ao3 i guess. also the MULTITUDE of orphaned fics out there asksfjldkj i always click ‘leave my pseud on’ so if u look up my username you see all of my fics and then a. lot of other ones.

in progress: - a fic titled ‘dad phoenix’ that is actually just a no DL-6 au with defense attorney miles edgeworth and single dad bartender phoenix where neither of them want to date for A While but phoenix gets wrapped up in one of miles’s cases. it’s about family. it’s about writing teenagers. it’s about the background franmaya which is ALWAYS what i’m here for in wrightworth fics - a franmaya werewolf/vampire au because i’m ~gay~ and love rivals to lovers and also franziska and maya both being angry their older brothers r dating each other. - my secret santa fic!! which i can’t talk about much but it does feature toph and zuko and also piandao and jeong jeong???? idk where they came from but they are Part Of The Fic Now also i forgot iroh existed for half the fic and wrote piandao as zuko’s father figure and now i’m in too deep. - a 5+1 bakoda fic (maybe a bato/hakoda/kay fic??? i need to decide. that’s part of why this fic is still incomplete bc i can’t decide which relationship dynamic i prefer) that’s 5 times bato said he loves hakoda and one time hakoda said it back. possibly i have already written him saying i love u back and i need to change the title a little. - retail au klapollo where klavier works at an overpriced boutique and apollo comes in to buy earrings for nahyuta’s birthday. klavier gives him a punch card (one that the store doesn’t actually offer anymore as a bid to get apollo to come back) and all of apollo’s family come in to use the punch card and also give klavier variations on the shovel talk/find out if he’s actually into apollo. - a LOT of atla fics that i don’t think i’ll ever finish :(

coming soon/not yet started:  - i want to write some blackmadhi bc they’re.. cute..... and it’s a good excuse to also write athena and i love her - my stuff for yueki week!!! i have NOT prepped enough but hopefully i’ll remember in time! i wrote the prompts in a way that kinda set up stuff i’ve already wanted to write (don’t look at me lol) so hopefully i’ll get at least two or three fics finished in time. - i want to rewrite the wrightworth fic i have about them not getting married bc it was interesting and i like what i wrote about but i think i could have written it better and made it more interesting. rewriting fics is hard tho bc i’m never sure if it makes sense to just edit in the new work or to repost it? and then if u repost it do u delete the old one? conflicting so i might just not

do you accept prompts? totally!!! a disclaimer tho i’m not super into writing atla stuff anymore (most of the atla stuff i’m still writing is  something i made a commitment to finish) so if your prompt is an atla one i probably won’t do it :/ basically anything else is fair game tho!! podcasts/aa/sa/uh i don’t remember anything else but like if you search a fandom on my blog and come up with more than two posts about it chances r i’d be happy to write fic for it!

upcoming work that you’re most excited about: oh huh i mean probably the no dl-6 au!!! it’s the longest ace attorney fic i’ve written already and since it’s wrightworth it’ll get more attention than any franmaya fic i write. my standards r so high now tho after getting to much feedback from atla fans... love u all... obviously i have no choice but to pressure my atla mutuals into playing ace attorney. pls ask abt it bc i WIll Give You A Sales Pitch about why you’d like it in relation to atla

tagging: i’m not rly tagging anyone!!! @deadflora if you still consider urself a fic writer also consider urself tagged! also any of my other mutuals who write fic i just can’t think of anyone rn

#leo.txt #thank u!! i think i wrote a lot for this lol #but literally ive been so bored i don't have anything better to do

[witcher-ot3]

List of Iorveth/Roche WiPs

Because somethings I like to torment myself by showing how many fucking things I’m working on. Doesn’t help that lately, I’ve started a new WiP every time I get stuck in another fic. So, in no particular order (literally just how the tabs are ordered in my window lmao), here are all my Iorveth/Roche WiPs

2 fics in the Petals and Stripes ‘verse - one with Roche’s POV straight after and one of the Stripes’ POV as they deal with the aftermath... and try to help their boss woo Iorveth. Surprising no one, they’re terrible at it.

Curse breaking WiP where True Love’s Kiss strong emotion for one’s enemy saves Iorveth’s life. And then he, Roche, and Triss team up to go save the Scoia’tael.

Roche’s POV WiP set before they first meet. Includes some nice knife and blood kink during a face off between Iorveth and Roche. No idea where this one is going.

Eye On You Chapter 3, for which the plan is thigh-fucking. That’s it, that’s all I got.

Fake dating casefic (The Curious Case of the Murivel Resort for Couples). rn they’re playing strip gwent and I somehow signed up to write 5 different gwent games for this 😢

Competitive makeouts (The Chase) rn they’re spiderman kissing, but there’s gonna be a conspiracy plot that Iorveth has to reveal.

New ‘verse involving Iorveth/Roche/Kayran and Roche/Foltest lmao. First WiP is Roche running into Iorveth during his monthly fuckdate with the Kayran... and then joining in. Second WiP is a comparison of Roche’s two relationships and how they make him feel. For some reason, I framed it around the Chivalric Virtues from Blood & Wine and made it a 5+1 lol

Pining and Poignards, a WiP in which there is pining and stabbing lol. A poignard is a type of knife, which Iorveth generously “gifts” to Roche. rn Iorveth is sneaking around the army base and has just caught Roche masturbating. I...only sort of know where I’m going with this one.

Tittyfucking. That’s it, that’s the plot lmao. Iorveth is a lil obsessed with Roche’s chest and attempts to fuck it.

Gross Gremlin Man aka Iorveth prefers Roche nasty and sweaty. Uh... I just started this one and somehow it went from “huh, why do I not mind Roche when he’s all sweaty” to “hmm, I think I’m gonna steal his clothes and smell them while I touch myself” and I’m still working on the transition from one to the other lol

Red is the Rose Chapters 3+4 - Ch3 is about ready for posting, but I’m trying to figure out how much of the events of W2 to cover or if I should just skip all of them and get to the post-W2 plot.

Fun fact: all of those WiPs above are in 1 document because I like to make life difficult for Google Docs. But the other docs are all specific ‘verses (or themes) and these ones are theoretically standalone. Theoretically.

More standalones

Letters - a post-W3 WiP where Roche is running Temeria and hates it and starts receiving letters from Iorveth (sealed with a forget me not in wax).

WiP where they both get captured and imprisoned in a magic cell and whoops, sex ends up happening... and then their teams come rescue them.

Cuddles with the Commander - continuation of Pride of Temeria, where Roche wakes up cuddled up with Pillow Tits and his team.

Fire Breathing - a Meet the Family WiP where Iorveth is hanging with the Stripes and PT decides to demonstrate how to breathe fire. Iorveth is more than slightly freaked out that humans have this ability.

Iorveth gangbang - uh yeah, what it says on the tin. The Blue Stripes take Iorveth apart under Roche’s guidance.

Different first meeting identity porn WiP - they meet in Flotsam just as the Scoia’tael is starting to get formed. Neither knows who the other is, but they have amazing sex and every time they’re in Flotsam together, they meet up again. But Iorveth, of course, leads the Scoia’tael, and Roche has been tasked with hunting them down.

Crones WiP - Roche went to the Crones to plead for his men back. He gets them back - but as ghosts. He also gets assigned to help work on a cure to the Catriona plague, and it turns out one of the people already working on it is Iorveth. I literally just want Blue Stripes ghosts laughing at Roche’s bad flirting, but somehow it’s mostly angst rn ooops

Love Shack WiPs

First Time WiP - this one is so close to being done dammit. It’s actually the first WiP I ever started for this pairing and it just needs like 2 more orgasms aaaaahhhhhh

Medicine WiP - morning after their first time, they have a discussion about scars and medicine and how elven medicine is way better than human medicine. Not at all based on the billions of medical procedures I’m going through or anything.

PWP Ovi WiP - uh yeah, this one is just pure porn. rn Iorveth is giving Roche his eggs and Roche is loving it.

The Picture Says It All - next is gonna be a sketch of Roche hard at work hunched over a desk and Iorveth is all “no, this is wrong, he’s meant to be wielding a sword and fighting me”

The Haunting of Barrack 8B - Adda!! Adda is officially getting introduced in the next part, which is good, ‘cause she’s important in this ‘verse (and in my heart)

Roche builds Iorveth a home WiP - oh yeah, I stalled out because I realized I had to establish Roche and Rinn’s friendship before she could give him a hint about making a nest for Iorveth

Long Live the King - WiP about Roche’s relationship with Foltest, some of what he’s done for the King, how Iorveth feels about it, and then the big finale for this ‘verse, which I will leave secret for now.

Don’t Cry For Me, Temeria WiPs These are only the ones that have actual WiPs started, because believe me, I have a LOT more ideas

(Im)Perfect Strangers ch 27 - time for Roche to step up his wooing. Featuring dinner, dancing, and gift giving. And, of course, it wouldn’t be me without misunderstandings lol.

Between Two Fools Ch 8 - I’m working on getting this out as soon as I can. Just gotta finish writing their sex from the end of (Im)Perfect Strangers ch 26

Unlucky Number Thirteen - I want to write about how he starts spying for Roche and their developing kinda mentorship relationship

Silas’s story - he’s literally JUST joined the Stripes and I need to write how he and Thirteen work closely together but also this poor anxious boy is like 3 seconds from a heart attack at all times rn. It will get better tho.

Earning Your Stripes ch 2 - the first time. This chap will actually have porn! But first I gotta finish writing it lol. Rn Ves and Finch are double teaming Fenn and PT and Thirteen are in subspace cuddling with Roche, but soon they’ll get to join in too.

break (v /brāk/): to destroy someone's resistance - cnc WiP where Iorveth asks Roche to break him - and Roche has a lot of fun doing so as they pretend to fight like they’re still enemies.

Bath House - this was SUPPOSED to be a porny lil thing where Roche talks dirty to Iorveth while they’re stuck being proper for the kids, and then finally they get some alone time. But what it also turned into is that Anais and Thirteen equally hate baths lmao. Boussy loves them tho. He’s a hedonist, while Anais is just bored and Thirteen is like a cat with water.

Tutti Ch 2 - Iorveth begins to compose a symphony for Roche about their love story.

Daggers, Dumplings, and Dresses - the Elihal/Hattori side story. Not gotten much written so far - mostly just Elihal reflecting on his friendship with Iorveth.

The First Rule of Fight Club ch 2 - Ves now has time to think about what Ciaran said about Roche not being worthy of her loyalty. And also about how Ciaran’s skin tasted when she bit him.

Dragonfucking - another PWP WiP featuring a threesome with Saskia... except Roche still doesn’t know about the whole dragon thing, so he’s in for a surprise.

Water Balloon Fight - silly lil WiP where the Scoia’tael and the Blue Stripes have a water balloon fight. PT is the ref.

Baby Mama - lmao yes that is what it’s listed as in my doc. Not gonna say a lot about this, but will probably be a longer piece. Set in the distant future in DCfM,T.

Tempt Not a Desperate Man ‘verse Yeah, does anyone know what this is? It’s the ‘verse that started with Devour What’s Truly Yours and so far has nothing else published oops

Part 2 - in which they actually have to face each other again and figure out where they stand. And then there’s some fisting.

The Chaperon - Iorveth decides to make Roche a chaperon since the last one was sacrificed as a cum rag

Human Bootlicker - Iorveth makes a joke about Roche surrendering on his knees when he gets the upper hand in a fight between the Blue Stripes and the Scoia’tael - and then Roche actually does.

Elven Baths - so it’s kinda a thing in this ‘verse that they end up meeting and fucking in the elven baths in the Flotsam forest. As in, the legend about “if you’re in love, you can still hear the lovers’ sighs in the garden” came to being because Roche is fucking loud lmao. Also, roses of remembrance. 😉

Sort of series fics, but technically stand alone. AKA apparently I decided I wanted to do Themes. 

Theme 1: Possessiveness aka all the kinky sex kinda embarrassed to admit to these which is dumb because fuck shame

Piss fic - uh, kinda what it sounds like? Roche decides to be an asshole and refuses to move out of the way when Iorveth tries to get to the bathroom - and somehow this turns into Iorveth pissing on his crotch.

Come inflation + piss fic - Roche gets a potion that makes him come a lot. Iorveth likes it and wants more.

Possessiveness - Iorveth has feelings about his nemesis and Roche does not know how to feel about this.

Tentacles + Breeding - a tentacle/vine plant instinctively tries to lay its eggs in Roche. Iorveth is not okay with this plant going for his enemy... until it turns out Roche is very much here for it. And also for Iorveth fertilizing the eggs after they’ve been laid.

Dream - Roche dreams about Iorveth being an elven king and himself being essentially Iorveth’s plaything, to use and to show off

Theme 2: King Roche aka hey, wouldn’t it be funny if he ended up in charge? He would hate it so much

Murder husbands - Iorveth breaks into the palace and finds the very unhappy “King” Roche, then they go run away and kill war criminals together. But of course Roche could never abandon Temeria, so he’s still in charge by day. But by night, it’s murder time.

Okay, technically this has like a line written for it, BUT bodyguard AU where Roche knows he’s gonna get assassinated without protection once he becomes king, and only Iorveth is allowed to kill him. So only makes since for Iorveth to become his bodyguard. 

Arranged Marriage AU - inspired by softestpunk’s The Gift, I literally just want cracky fun where they are forced to get married and they hate it but also fall in love. That’s it, that’s the story.

Holy fuck, I have a lot of WiPs. But I think that’s all the Iorveth/Roche ones. Which is not to say I don’t have more, but rn, I am hyperfixated on these idiots, so these are the ones I am actively writing.

#rorveth #iorveth x roche #the witcher #the witcher 2 #long post #My fic

[annacaffeina]

This post has some gross details about medical stuff...

So a week ago I banged my toe putting together a book shelf. I decided friday  night that it looked unwell and wasn’t healing well so I decided to take myself to the local urgent care when I woke up yesterday morning.

Unfortunately while getting ready yesterday I decided to play on my phone for a few minutes first. Half way through looking at instagram it made this short loud grinding sound, turned itself off and began to reboot. And began to reboot again. And shut itself off again, and began to reboot again. I googled it and tried everything I could but it would not break out of this turning off/rebooting cycle.

So first it was off to the verison store. I HAD been using a first generation google pixel and I loved it. I’m still sad to see it go, but it was not going to come back to life for me. I bought a phone that is super expensive after falling for a hard sell from a dude who was wearing his mask under his nose. ALL the employees were wearing their masks under their noses. I watched one woman help an elderly gentleman for 20 minutes with her mask on as a chin warmer. Straight up breathing on this dude.

I take my fancy new phone to urgent care where I am told that 1. I have an infection. 2. The doc thinks there might be a splinter “festering” in there and he would like to inject some novocaine in my toe, get some tweezers, dig around and find out.

Which is exactly what he does. I watch him do the injection, no problem, then I watch him make the little cut with the scalpel no problem, then he starts digging around with the tweezers. After a minute I realize that what I am feeling is the doc hitting the bone and scraping around with the tweezers. Once I realize that’s what I’m feeling I’m immediately hit with the hot, tingly, flushed feeling of passing out. I make some kind of “oof” noise and the doc just glances at me and immediately lays me down in the chair. He gets me some cold juice, makes sure I’m ok, and then goes back to another 5 minutes or so of scraping around inside my toe.

I finally get to leave and go pick up my prescription for antibiotics (that are currently unsettling the hell out of my stomach) at the pharmacy, and the pharmacist is Wearing The MAsk Under his Nose!

Of the 2 errands I ran yesterday, one that included a needle, a scalpel, blood, tweezers, bone, and dizziness, buying the phone was definitely the more painful.

By the time I got home I was emotionally wiped out, and that funk followed me in to today. I feel bad in general, and I feel bad that these tasks that would generally not be so upsetting have drained me so much. It feels crummy.

[jeminy3]

Role Reversal

Another very old thing i’ve finally gotten around to polishing and posting.

This is, (like most of my fics), a collection of things I really wanted to see written about - and a bunch of things I'm very horny for.

Namely: Queerplatonic/Friends-With-Benefits Royai, BDSM with Dom!Riza and Sub!Roy, Roy in a Dress, Riza in a Pantsuit, Other Very Sexy things, with a big bonus of Genderfluid/Transfeminine Roy with Riza being supportive… in her own way.

Pronouns will change. NSFW warnings will show up as necessary.

Read on AO3

Read on Google Docs

If anyone assumed Riza Hawkeye was too straight-laced to enjoy the finer things in life, they were sorely mistaken - she just preferred things a certain way, that's all.

A good example involves her current situation: she's politely refused partaking in any alcoholic drinks during the event she was currently attending, instead getting her fill from sparkling apple cider. She greatly dislikes inebriation, as it never agreed with her in her experience, and she prefers to stay fully aware in her waking life. Besides, the gold-colored drink looks no different from champagne - tastes better too, in her opinion.

In this way she can keep her ever-watchful eyes as sharp as her namesake as she scans the room - a hotel lobby dressed up for a politically-motivated cocktail party - taking note of the building's layout, entrances and exits, where the hotel staff cycles in and out from, and how the attendees and their attitudes ebb and flow as the party progresses.

In a word, she likes control.

It applied to any situation in her life - on the battlefield, in the office, even in her dog's behavior training. She was a force of order in a world of chaos, making sense out of a senseless world, even if the effort was fruitless in the grand scheme of things - if anything, the endlessness of the process was a strange sort of comfort for her.

"The only constant in this world is that it's always changing." One of the few things her father ever said that she actually agreed with.

So whether she was organizing files, lining up gun sights, or in this case, keeping an eye out for either potential danger or her friend and superior officer making a fool of himself, she was in her element.

The aforementioned friend and superior officer, Colonel Roy Mustang, stands not far from her, on the other side of the hors d'oeuvres table they were currently haunting in order to appear as engaged as possible without actually giving a damn.

Newly-appointed Fuhrer Grumman is gathered with the Amestrian Generals and other industry leaders several feet away, chattering endlessly for most of the past hour or so. This event was the latest in many political gatherings that were supposed to strengthen ties between leaders and ensure potential partnerships, but in reality, they were a waste of time. The stubborn, incestuous nature that the Amestrian government's kept up for the past however-many-centuries meant that most of the time, these gatherings really only succeeded in fluffing up peacocking feathers and inflating already-bloated egos.

She never liked these parties. Neither did Roy.

Riza looks at him again. At a glance, Roy appears to be enjoying himself - he's standing at attention, leaning slightly on one hip and balancing a flute of champagne in one hand, head raised with (feigned) interest in whatever the Brass were prattering on about.

But Riza can tell he's anything but relaxed - on close inspection, she can see deepened stress lines around his eyes and nose, his lips pressed into such a thin line they've nearly vanished from his features, and the hand bent behind the crook of his back clenches and unclenches repeatedly, fingers aching for some kind of physical activity, no doubt.

Riza certainly can't blame him for being so tense, after all they went through recently - specifically, the Promised Day and the fallout that's occurred afterwards. It's been difficult to navigate the massive power vacuum left in the wake of Bradley's death, along with everything else about the homonculi and their master, but they're managing as best they can. Cutting off the head of the dragon was a good step, but only that - a step in the long, long climb towards a democracy free of war and corruption.

Things will certainly improve once Grumman lays the groundwork for Roy's ascension - despite personal misgivings with her grandfather, Riza has no doubt he'll do his job well - but for now, it's slow-going. Unfortunately, Roy was never good at sitting quietly and waiting. He'd be a terrible sniper, she says all the time.

Right now, he more resembles a spring wound too tightly, shuddering with anxiety and liable to snap in the form of the wrong words at the wrong time when the wrong person approached him. Which would be awkward at best, disastrous at worst, so Riza decides to circumvent that possibility altogether and approach him herself.

She crosses the distance between them by navigating around the table's end and approaching his front slowly, getting his attention with a nod and gentle smile. He loosens significantly at the sight of her, already a relief for his no-doubt-bristling nerves, and she doesn't miss the small sigh that escapes him as she settles at his side and hooks a hand through the loop of his bent arm.

She looks up at him and speaks low, enough to not be heard by anyone else in the vicinity. "Holding up alright, Colonel?"

Roy snorts softly, and responds in kind to keep up their privacy. "As much as I can."

"Same here," she murmurs. "Remind me when this is over again?"

Roy rolls his eyes in Grumman's direction. "Knowing him? Probably in another hour, at the very least."

Riza groans softly. "Can't we leave? They've clearly finished mingling with our brigade. Breda and Falman are already gone."

Roy blinks. "They are?"

"They slipped out the back when the waiters were refilling drinks for everyone." There's a tinge of envy to her tone, as she'd caught sight of them for a few moments as they left, but only just.

Roy scoffs. "They could have said something."

"Guess they forgot to, in all their eagerness."

"Eager to leave their superiors in the dust. So much for loyalty." Roy chuffs with annoyance, lifting his champagne glass to his mouth.

Riza merely shrugs noncommittally. "Heymans's only as enthusiastic as his people-reading allows, and even Vato has his limits. Who knows, maybe they had plans."

That makes Roy nearly spit up the champagne he's sipping. He clears his throat to recover. "Erm, hm- plans?"

Riza lids her eyes and looks at him through their corners, like she always does to look incredulous. "They're grown men with lives outside of the military, sir, don't be surprised. I'm not."

"Uh- of course, of course," Roy mutters, wiping his lips with a thumb and doing his very best to not look perturbed at the idea of Breda and Falman having unprofessional affairs, bless his heart.

In light of having nothing better to do to entertain herself, Riza decides to needle him further.

She cocks her head, murmuring in a more teasing tone of voice. "You know... we could make plans too, sir. I don't think we'll be greatly missed here anymore - might be a restaurant or two worth checking out on this street... unless you'd rather head straight home, of course."

Roy shifts on his feet, his eyes flitting to and away from her a few times, but he says nothing for a few moments. He wets his lips with the tip of his tongue and brings his glass to them again. "Mm. Maybe," he mumbles into the glasswork, taking another sip.

Riza lets her hand in his arm travel up and along it, considering him for a few moments. Maybe, hm? She could leave it at that, but all this talk of "plans" and night-time activities is drumming up a swarm of ideas in her brain with increasingly suggestive detail and fervor. Neither of them are strangers as bed-mates - even now, Riza can imagine clearly the curve of Roy's backside under his suit - but it has been a long while since they spent such time together.

Their last time was... almost a year ago now, actually. Before Hughes' passing, if she remembers correctly... Then it's no wonder she's felt so empty and frustrated lately. And Roy, with the tragedy still weighing heavily on his heart - she can't imagine how he must feel.

But then, perhaps that's all the better reason to bring this up.

Riza's errant hand travels up and along Roy's shoulders, and he tenses slightly at the touch - then suppresses a small shudder as she slide her fingers along his spine, down to the small of his back. (She stops short of cupping his ass - there's people around, after all.)

He's definitely wanting , but he won't admit it verbally... not without more encouragement.

Riza leans in and changes her tone again, this time leaning more into the... enticing side of things, but not dipping into ridiculousness. All the while she keeps her stern timbre, and the result is a special sort of commanding tone used between them only in utmost privacy.

"It's been a long time, sir. I think we're both due for some... release, after all we've been through, wouldn't you say?"

She holds Roy's gaze as she speaks, watches him blink once, twice, several more times, a little slower each time. The start of a flush colors his features, and he works his throat, swallowing despite not consuming anything.

He's thinking about it. Definitely thinking about it. But all he says is, a little hoarsely, "...I suppose."

Still resistant? Well, the man did have a bad habit of denying himself his own desires in favor of overworking himself to the point of exhaustion, out of his own obsessive need to always be working towards his goals in some way, every day, little by little. Whether that be by actual work back at the office, or work on his carefully-maintained reputation via fake-dates with his sisters or deathly boring social gatherings like this one.

It's not the first time Riza's had to push and prod him into taking an actual break from his stresses and let himself loose, and it won't be the last - ironic, when everyone calls her the workaholic who can't relax.

Looks like she'll need to sweeten the pot for him - so, she brings out an old favorite of his.

"You know I hate this dress," she mutters, shifting uncomfortably within the confines of her cocktail dress, nothing more than a tight black tube of fabric suffocating her legs and torso as far as she was concerned. "Chafes me terribly. If it wasn't for parties like this, I'd have thrown it out already."

"Mm." Another noncommittal hum from Roy. He knows this very well.

"...But times are changing, after all," she continues. "Maybe I can get rid of it soon..."

She tilts her head and fixes him with a knowing look. "That is, unless you can find some use for it, Colonel."

Roy's eyes widen slightly, and the subtle color on his face deepens into a distinct blush.

Among the many secrets Riza keeps for him, one is Roy's occasional indulgence in wearing dresses and other feminine clothing. He grew up in a brothel after all, raised by a gaggle of women who enjoyed involving him in games of dress-up and fashion experiments. But at some point in his boyhood the activity grew from a silly game to a rather normal thing, supported and encouraged by his foster family, and he kept it as a private hobby well into his teenhood, when Riza first met him and learned of all this - this is far from the first time they've negotiated the exchange of each other's garments.

He'd kept it up even as far as his Academy days. But alas, when the mountain of military pressures wore him thin - eventually overwhelming him with the tragedy of the Ishvalan War - the activity was shoved into the dark recesses of his shame, and his favorite dresses gathered dust in his closet in much the same manner. Fortunately he could be convinced to try them on again with some encouragement - much like what Riza was doing now.

She quirks her head further, amused at Roy's quiet flustering. "Of course, it'd have to be adjusted for your size. You've said one of your sisters is a seamstress, correct?"

He swallows again, his adam's apple bobbing in his throat. "Ah- Victoria is, yes."

"Good. If we leave now, I can have it dropped off at the Madame's place by morning, and she can have it ready for you by tomorrow night."

Roy forces a chuckle as his eyes jerk to his sides, as if wary of eavesdroppers. "Hah- You act like I've already agreed to this, Lieutenant."

She holds his gaze. "Well, do you?"

Roy opens and closes his mouth, but says nothing, just stares at her. He can't seem to decide on what to say, his eyes twitching this way and that as a hundred questions and counter-arguments seem to flicker behind the lenses of his eyes, his mind an indecisive projector. Finally, he shifts to stare down at his dress shoes, mouth and throat still working, but he tenses his jaw shut.

He needs something genuine. Riza edges closer, snakes the arm at his back around his waist, squeezes gently in more of a side-hug than a teasing grope. She drops both the eroticism and the sternness from her voice, this time aiming for something closer to how they spoke as teenagers, watching the clouds go by as they lay upon the Eastern hillsides of her birthplace.

"I know it's been a while, but- I think you'd look nice, Roy."

Roy relaxes visibly, deflating with a small sigh. He closes his eyes for a moment, no doubt savoring the reassurance, verbally and physically.

When he looks at her again, his confidence has returned, somewhat, in the form of a small, crooked smile.

"Well- I am curious to see if you're right."

---

By the next evening, they've have made good on their mutual promise and laid some exciting plans for tonight, to say the least - Roy for his planned outfit, Riza for... everything else. Neither of them have gone into too much detail, of course. Half of the fun was the pleasant surprise.

After finishing her setup - part of which involved dropping off Black Hayate with a trustworthy neighbor who petsits on the side - Riza received a nervous but eager phone call from Roy stating he's ready to go, so Riza has donned her best pantsuit and now drives through the darkened streets of Central to pick him up.

The suit's far better than the cocktail dress. She sits comfortably in her dark slacks, with a black collared suit jacket of fine material cinched beneath her sternum, revealing an elegant white button-down shirt that's topped with a long, pointed collar bending sharply away from her neck. She complements it with some makeup - enough to doll herself up a bit, but not excessively so - medium-heeled dress shoes, her usual silver double-earrings, and her blonde hair falling freely across her shoulders.

She busies her mind with total concentration on her driving, for now - the temptation is strong, but she mustn't distract herself with thoughts of fondness and excitement over tonight's coming activities. Soon enough, she comes upon the sprawling luxury apartment complex Roy lives in, large enough for each home to qualify as a townhouse more than anything else with their second floors and guest rooms. She settles into its parking lot, humming to herself as she exits her car and makes her way to his front door.

Riza raps on the door with her knuckles. There's a shifting somewhere beyond it, and then Roy's voice calls out distantly. "Come in - the door's unlocked!"

After briefly amusing herself with the idea of Roy being too dolled up to answer the door without spraining an ankle, she opens the door and slowly enters. She's greeted by the sight of Roy's parlor: Like the rest of his somewhat-sparse apartment, it only contains necessary furnishings, a few personal heirlooms and effects, and various books and folios for Alchemy and military research. Ever the extrovert, he spends most of his time at work, out on the town, or in the homes of friends and family - for many reasons, he dislikes being alone.

Roy's lithe form rises from a small couch in the middle of the room as Riza steps over the threshold and closes the door behind her. As she takes in the sight of him, eyes widening, he does a small twirl and rests a hand on his hip.

"So- how do I look?"

Riza stares. She could say that her former dress looks quite a bit different on Roy's person, but that would be a tragic understatement.

There's a new slit down the side for ease of movement, the straps have been cut and re-sewn to loop around his neck instead of his shoulders, and the back's been left permanently unzipped to allow room for his broad upper body. The result is the dress becoming a scandalous open-back halter top, leaving none of his arm and back muscles to the imagination and offering enticing peeks at one of his long legs through the slit. Whatever still covers him clings tightly to his body, maybe a half-size too small for him, but it accentuates every dip and curve to a maddening degree.

And on closer inspection, his exposed leg seems to be encased in a thin, dark sheer legging that rises halfway up his thigh and stops there, offering further excitement in flashes of cream-colored skin near his hip. And- is that a garter belt? Oh my.

It also appears Roy has decided to complete the look with some stylish shoes, an application of makeup, and glittering jewelry. The shoes are black pointed pumps, high-heeled and confirming Riza's suspicion about his ankles, but he seems to be keeping his balance well enough; Small clip-on earrings dangle from his un-pierced ear lobes, tiny red gems hanging from silver chains; His face is lightly powdered to soften his features, and his smoldering eyes have been made even more so by a layer of shimmering eyeshadow and coal-black mascara. Even his lips have been supplemented with a rich maroon-colored lipstick.

To top it all off, his dark hair appears freshly-washed and brushed smooth, not gelled and slicked back like his usual formal attire. His bangs sway above his eyes in a much more harmonious fashion than usual, neatly tucked behind his ears at their edges.

"Y- you look stunning, sir," Riza says, after finding her tongue again.

Roy's thickened eyelashes flutter towards the floor, his cheeks flushing bashfully again. "Thank you. But it's debatable whether I compare to your natural loveliness, Lieutenant."

"Well," Riza pauses to clear her throat, feeling very dry suddenly, "Ahem- I'd disagree there, sir. It's obvious you've gone through quite the effort."

Roy's eyes briefly roll toward the ceiling. "God, was it ever. It's been so long that I had to ask Chris and the girls to refresh my memory on how to do this again. I'm still amazed they were willing to help me so much on such short notice. Especially Victoria - damn miracle-worker, she is. Sailed through the sewing job like a ship's captain."

"It shows," Riza murmurs, not entirely listening. As he spoke, she's taken a few steps closer to further admire the details of Roy's person. Yup, there's definitely a garter belt under there, straps and all. Panties too, most likely...

...She realizes she's been staring too long when Roy clears his throat this time. "You seem, ah... eager, Lieutenant. Shall we get going?"

Riza tears her gaze away from Roy's hips to meet his eyes, where his bashfulness is starting to melt away into amusement as he studies her. She feels a bit like a stray dog caught drooling over glistening cuts of meat in a butcher's shop - probably looks like one too. But really, who could blame her, with such an enticing specimen before her?

She clears her throat again, and, remembering her manners, extends an arm to take Roy's hand.

"Ah- of course. It would be my pleasure, sir."

Roy tugs at the fabric around his hips to allow his legs freedom, and his form is even lovelier in motion as he steps forward (a little wobbly on the heels, but he's managing), and outstretches a hand toward Riza's.

But as she takes Roy's fingers in her own, a thought crosses her mind - rather, an important observation. Roy went through an awful lot of preparation to dress up for tonight, employing both his own skills and those of his foster family... Far more effort than for an actual public outing, where all he really does is clean himself up a bit and throw on a suit, some cologne, and an offensive amount of hair gel.

This is different - there's a sincerity to Roy's beauty here that makes it seem like its achievement was just as much for his own benefit as it was for Riza's. Maybe even more so... As if he's actually... perhaps...

"...Or should I call you 'madam' instead?" Riza asks suddenly, meeting his eyes.

Roy's movements towards her shudder to a stop, and his eyes nearly bug out from his sockets. He stares, frozen, for a moment long enough for Riza to fear that she's crossed a line that should not have been crossed right now.

But thankfully, in the next moment his eyelids flutter, once again downcast and bashful as his blush deepens further, now spreading down to his neck. He clears his throat and struggles to respond. "I- I, uh..."

Again he squirms with indecisiveness, but this time he's faster to settle on an answer. He shakes himself out of his stupor with a literal shake of his head and says finally, "Um- No. No, that won't be necessary, Lieutenant."

Riza resists the urge to sigh with relief, nodding graciously instead. "As you wish, sir."

She takes his hand - her hand, perhaps, if she decided not to take Roy's words at face value, as she usually does.

For a few years now, Riza's held the suspicion that some of Roy's private interests - like his preference for dresses - may be much more than simple hobbies for him. More like an integral part of a blooming identity, bursting to reveal itself as more than simply a man, but locked within his many insecurities and the social cage he's trapped himself within to achieve his goals. At this point, Riza is certain this must be true, at least to some degree.

Who knows, maybe Roy was even more than a woman, extending beyond the usual binary. She always did have a penchant for breaking boundaries - perhaps their heart was as wild and shapeless as a flame, flickering between genders as the mood struck them. It would only be appropriate.

Either way, Riza was ready and waiting to accept this part of Roy wholeheartedly - she couldn't call herself their dear friend and dutiful Lieutenant if she didn't. But she is also patient, so for now, she'll sit by and agree to their preferences like she always does - watching, waiting, until they are ready.

From what she can see now, it's still a difficult thing for Roy to express openly - it's plain as day in his face. His mouth is a thin line again, and his eyes dart about nervously as they leave his home, alert for random passersby. Personally, Riza was fairly certain that no one would recognize him as he is now, especially under the cover of night, but he's justified in being paranoid; if word got out that the handsome, swaggering bachelor known as Colonel Roy Mustang dressed in intensely feminine outfits and had distinctly unprofessional (and un-normative) nightly affairs with his First Lieutenant in his spare time, who knows what kind of scandal it'd start, especially in this tumultuous political climate?

Riza squeezes his hand for reassurance and picks up the pace as they walk down to her car. Luckily, there's no one in sight on this particular night, and the darkened streets are bare and quiet. Still, Roy only sighs with relief once he's seated comfortably in the passenger seat, the doors are closed and locked, and they are safely on their way back to Riza's abode. He breathes more and more easier as they watch familiar streets and buildings pass them by, even more so when Riza occasionally brushes the skin of his arm and exposed thigh with her non-driving hand.

His eyes sparkle with eagerness, and Riza has no doubt that hers look the same.

---

Riza's apartment is much humbler compared to Roy's, even a little cramped in places, but it's all the more cozy. As much as she spends most of her waking life at work, she still makes the most of her private time and space; affording herself all the necessities to live comfortably, but also enough luxuries to please her heart and make up for the lack of them in her childhood.

Despite the lingering evidence of Hayate's presence from a vague musk in the air and hairs on the furniture, she's made her apartment far more appealing as a social gathering place than a stark, stuffy hotel lobby. There's warm, low lighting via candles and oil lanterns (leaving most of the electric lights off), the air is sweetened with smoke from a stick of burning incense on her coffee table, and a radio in the corner scratches out pleasant, jazzy tunes.

The furnishings are equally warm, mostly wooden and in earthy colors to remind her of Eastern forests in the fall, and are kept clean and neatly arranged to allow close but still-comfortable proximities. One could call it downright homely, if not for a few things - like a set of garishly bright yellow window curtains, a glass case holding a collection of cheaply-imitated Xingese pottery, and her personal gun closet standing proudly along the wall of her parlor.

Many people call her odd for these things - Roy is one of the loudest. "You have the strangest tastes, I swear," he says for the umpteenth time as he crosses the threshold, taking it all in before shooting a cheeky grin at her. "You should really bring Edward around sometime, you have a lot in common."

Riza rolls her eyes and pokes him in retaliation. "I'll consider it, sir. Now sit down before you fall off those heels."

Roy puts out his decorated lips in an exaggerated pout. "Pardon me - I am the Flame Alchemist Colonel Roy Mustang, thank you very much," he says haughtily. "And it'll take much more than a pair of shoes to bring me down. I've trained myself well, as you can see."

He turns and saunters away, demonstrating his barely-kept balance by swaying his hips from side to side as if he were walking down a catwalk instead of Riza's hallway. He'd at least get a round of applause for the effort, as he almost sends himself to the floor in his efforts to reach the small dining set that's just aside from the kitchenette. He doesn't bother to mask his relief at not losing his footing completely, smiling and giggling as he takes his seat. Riza can only laugh as well - it's so rare to see him like this, child-like and comfortable in his own skin.

Dinner is retrieved from a set of covered plates on the kitchen counter, a luxurious meal ordered from a restaurant that's famous for its fine dinners and delivery options. They discussed their preferred meals ahead of time, and knowing that Roy dislikes anything charred or flesh-like, Riza serves him a bowl of stir-fried noodles and vegetables on a bed of golden rice, which he enjoys heartily. Riza herself indulges in a perfectly-seared fìlet mignon with roasted asparagus on the side, all topped with a rich, earthy sauce. For drinks, they've cracked open two bottles of Riza's personal stash - more sparkling cider for her, red wine for Roy.

They talk about the finer points of cooking and recent news here and there, but mostly they pass the time enjoying the food and each other's company quietly. When they've finished, Riza leaves their dirty plates on the table to be cleaned later, at the moment much more concerned with joining Roy on the corner-couch surrounding her coffee table to sit and talk more comfortably while finishing the last of their drinks.

Roy is even more relaxed with good food and drink in him. He stretches lightly, then sinks into the corner-cushions with great contentment, a playful smile on his lips as he crosses his legs and twirls his wine glass in one hand. He resembles a large cat lounging upon its perch - so much so that Riza's half-surprised he isn't purring.

She takes her seat just across from him. "You seem awfully content for someone who didn't even eat their fill," she teases. "There was a good portion still left on your plate, and we never even touched the desserts."

Roy's eyes crinkle with amusement. "If I ate all of that in one sitting, I might not fit into this dress anymore. I'm taking a risk as it is."

That seems obvious enough, as Riza watches the dark fabric straining precariously around his bent legs and hips as he shifts in his seat, filling tautly around his now-slightly-wider middle. She licks at her teeth under her lips, savoring the lingering taste of meat there. Despite the food in her belly, her appetite is far from sated.

"It's a shame," she starts, balancing her cider in one hand and letting the other come to rest upon Roy's exposed knee, "How rarely you wear things like these, Colonel. If it were my decision, I'd hate to keep this kind of beauty behind closed doors."

Roy tenses for the briefest moment at the contact, but doesn't move or uncross his legs - a good sign. He smirks at her over his wine glass. "I hope you're not implying that I should dress like this at whatever political gathering we're dragged to next, Lieutenant."

"Well... I think it's a possibility," Riza says. "Perhaps someday, in the future."

Roy sips his wine, not looking at her anymore. "Hm. The distant future," he says, his voice hollow within the glass.

Riza studies him, a bit crestfallen - alas, she can only prod him so much. For now, maybe a more humorous slant is needed.

"I suppose. It would give everyone a terrible shock... good for a laugh, at least."

Roy snorts softly. "God- I can certainly imagine it. Grumman would flip his lid completely if he saw me like this."

Riza snickers. "I don't think he'd even recognize you. Probably try to flirt with you again."

Roy exaggerates a disgusted groan. "I've had quite enough of that from him. For a lifetime, I think."

"No need to worry, sir. I wouldn't let him near you." Riza allows her voice to dip into enticing commands again, and she makes her intentions clear with her thumb rubbing small circles into Roy's legging-encased knee.

His smile becomes knowing. "Defending me from your own family now, Lieutenant?"

Riza shrugs. "We were never close anyway. And it's my job, after all."

"I think we both know that your dedication extends far beyond your sense of duty by now."

Roy sells the tease with a small, sly wink in her direction, ever the charmer. Even Riza isn't immune to his wiles, but she is better at being less obvious about it. Like now, as she resists the urge to giggle and lets it out as a small sigh instead, setting her drink on the coffee table and spreading her hands.

"Guilty as charged. But really, can you blame me?"

She shifts forward to let her hands come to rest upon Roy's legs again, this time squarely on his thighs, especially the exposed one, letting her fingers rub more and deeper circles into his skin.

"You are a... unique sort of individual, after all. One of a kind, even. A very precious commodity."

Roy lids his eyes, watching her movements. "You flatter me, Lieutenant."

"I only tell the truth, sir."

He quirks an eyebrow. "Except the times when you don't."

"Only when it's necessary."

"Like?"

She recalls the first thing that comes to mind. "Like when a pea-brained homonculus thinks they can fool me with an imitation of you."

Roy's eyes squint slightly, unfocusing. There's laughter there, but also something cold and unpleasant.

"Of course," he murmurs. "You've told me of that battle, before I... intervened." He's picking his words as carefully as he picks around the sharp, painful edges of the memory, and all its associations.

Riza regrets bringing it up. She got too caught up in the bantering - it was the most recent and harrowing situation she could think of in which she lied to survive, but still...

She shifts closer, sliding her hands up and along Roy's hips, settling one in the dip of his waist and the other beneath the lip of his dress slit, right into the warmth of his thigh-skin and centimeters away from his ass. The distraction works - Roy refocuses his attention on her again, drawing in a sharp breath and arcing his back forward ever-so-slightly in response to the touch, pushing his chest against the taught fabric of his dress.

"Anyway," Riza murmurs, keeping up the distraction with massaging fingers and the return of her dominant tone, "I'm only being honest. As much as I am your Lieutenant, you are my Colonel. In other words... you are mine."

Roy breathes out, sighing wistfully. "I am?"

"Always."

He lids his eyes and whispers, "Show me, then."

"Gladly."

Riza leans in further, snakes her arms further up and around him as she crosses the distance between them, and catches Roy's lips in her own.

And oh, to taste him again - she missed it so. There's the briefest tinge of unpleasantness from the chalkiness of his lipstick, but it's easily miss-able among the dozens of others flavors that color his mouth and tongue. There's bits of his dinner, bits of the wine, hints of mint and cologne from leftover toothpaste and mouth spray. But mostly it's the warm, sumptuous flavor of his mouth against hers, and Riza eats it up more hungrily than the richest steak money could buy.

Her hands are just as gluttonous. Her light massaging turns into a deep groping at Roy's waist and thigh, the waist-hand circling around to his back to wrap around and draw him in as they shift their bodies closer. The thigh-hand savors the softness of him there, working steadily forward and up until her fingers are slipping under the lacey edge of his underwear and stroking the flesh of his soft, plush ass.

Roy's body was a bit softer than one would assume - a consequence of his drinking tendencies and incorrigible sweet tooth. On top of the occasional temptations of various pastries and desserts, he always has his morning coffee with cream and three lumps of sugar, and takes his evenings' alcohol as fruity gin and sweet vodkas. Despite a daily exercise regimen that he's (mostly) faithful to, he still spends most of the workday sitting at a desk, so the sugars haunt him in the form of a significant layer of fat on his lower stomach, hips and thighs.

Not that Riza was complaining, mind you. Quite the opposite - the extra flesh gives her more of him to savor, and Roy himself enjoys the extra attention, as he always does.

He hums with deep-throated pleasure against her as they keep kissing, shifting and grinding closer and closer. At some point he had the presence of mind to set down his wine on the coffee table and his now-free hands grope Riza in kind, grasping at her waist and lower back through her suit jacket and undershirt (avoiding the area across her shoulders, where she dislikes being touched for obvious reasons).

She allows this for now, caught up in the heat and excitement - they've both tipped their hands before even reaching the bedroom, but again, it's been a while and they've been very stressed lately. So Riza can't blame herself too much when their love-making becomes so feverish that her ass-groping hand pushes a few centimeters too far in its ministrations, and by the time she realizes she's crimping and tearing Roy's dress slit further open, it's too late.

There's a small sh-rrrip! down at Roy's side, and they both freeze momentarily. Riza pulls away and, looking down, sees that her wrist and forearm had tested the limits of what little space was left between the dress and Roy's hip - the small seam that his sister probably took great pains to cut, pull apart, then re-sew, has now been torn and frayed at its corner, its tiny threads stretching and breaking apart around the now-larger area of Roy's exposed thigh.

Riza withdraws her hand, mildly flushed with shame. "Oh- I'm sorry, sir. And after all the trouble you went through..."

Roy, slightly disheveled between his mussed hair, blushing face and smeared lipstick, studies the damage with more bewilderment than anything else - then chuckles with amusement as he meets her eyes.

"It's alright, Lieutenant. No great loss. It was a quick and dirty sewing job anyway, can't be too surprised."

Riza's fears are eased, but only so much. "At least extend my apologies to Victoria; it's her work, after all."

"A work she full-well knew the purpose of," Roy says, his eyes sparkling with something between lust and mischief. "Trust me, apologies aren't needed."

Riza catches her breath. He predicted this? Cheeky devil...

And sure enough, Roy's smile becomes predatory. "Besides, all of this..." he gestures across himself, especially around his greater expanse of exposed skin, "...Always belonged to you first, Lieutenant. It's only appropriate that the owner of a great gift should tear off its wrapping."

For a rare moment, Riza fears she could actually lose her composure for once - she comes very close to deciding to fulfill that proposition with feverish hands and teeth, right here, right now, abandoning all plans and further foreplay. She barely stops herself - and it must show in her face, as Roy's smirk becomes downright devilish as he watches her. Damn him and his wiles.

"You-"

Riza decides not to finish that thought, not quite trusting herself at the moment. Instead she tugs him back in, silencing his much-too-smart mouth with another kiss.

She swallows whatever retort Roy planned on making with ravenous teeth and tongue, supplanting small moans of needs into his throat, even hungrier than before. Her grasping arms and hands all but claw at his exposed back and shoulders, snaking down his backside from the tactically-safer direction of his dress's open back. Her fingers dive down the slope of his spine into the soft landing of his ass again, now with a bit more freedom and easier access.

Roy takes it all in stride, groaning low and deep in his throat and squirming against her ministrations. His skin is flushes with heat and moistens with sweat everywhere that she touches, and his dress's tiny creaks of protest increase in frequency as he shifts, no doubt feeling an increasing need to have it off.

And, to none of Riza's surprise, she feels one of her roving hands brush over a distinct bulge now forming in the front-side of his groin.

The touch draws a needy moan from Roy, and the moment of blind lust ebbs away enough for Riza to reclaim a bit of clarity - she should more seriously consider slowing her advances, now. At this rate Roy will come undone long before she can show what she has in store for him - and make him fall apart in ways she prefers.

She draws away to catch her breath, but doesn't quite relinquish their closeness, hugging his waist and resting her sweating brow against his. Roy is only more lovely in his further-disheveled state - sweat and saliva mix with makeup and strands of hair, sticking and dripping against his features, and at this distance she can see his dark eyes practically sparkling with inner light.

She presses feather-light kisses against the warm skin of his cheek. "Oh, the things I could do to you, Roy," she murmurs against him.

Roy closes his eyes, hums with expectancy. "Tell me, Riza."

"Ah- words escape me," she whispers, slightly breathless. "But I promise, it'll be a night to remember."

Roy hums again, gently nuzzling against the side of her head and pecking at her ear. Riza savors the more-tender contact as they cool off, breaths deepening and heartbeats slowing. But her loins still prickle with need, and there is no doubt that Roy feels similarly.

A few moments more of small, tender touches and she's had her fill. Eager to make good on her plans, Riza shifts away to stand up from the couch, begrudgingly releasing her hold on Roy save for a lingering hand that catches his own and gently tugs his arm up with her.

She bends down to press her lips to his knuckles, meeting his eyes.

"Shall we get started, sir?"

Roy smiles serenely as he rises to his feet. "Finally- for a moment I thought you'd never ask."

---

NSFW warnings: Dom/Sub roleplay, mild humiliation, whipping, spanking, pegging, dirty talk, more gender/pronoun stuff

---

Minutes later, Riza is in her bedroom, relinquishing herself of her clothes and jewelry as she waits for Roy to finish freshening up in the nearby bathroom.

Having hung and folded away her pantsuit in her dresser, she bends further to the bottom-most drawer to tug it open - there, under a discreet layer of towels, is a small menagerie of sex toys and harnesses, freshly cleaned and sanitized, ready for use.

She hums to herself as she retrieves a few in particular for her plans tonight, setting them upon her bedcovers and fiddling with the last of their straps and buckles. She smiles as she hears the soft sounds of rushing water from the bathroom, thinking of Roy, herself, all that has come to these moments.

Over the years, Riza has found that her desire for control applied equally to bedroom activities. As she explored the extent of her own adulthood, she's spent some time here and there quietly scoping out various sex shops in her spare time, especially since their transfer to Central. It didn't take long before she found herself drawn to the BDSM scene - it held inherent power dynamics, gratifying roleplay, and cathartic exploration of feelings and desires in a safe, regulated space, all in a multitude of forms of methods according to one's personal preferences... Simply put, it was right up her alley.

She was private about it, like she is about most things in her life, and fairly sparse. The most she's spent on are a few lingerie items, a phallus or three, and a whipping apparatus. Recently she's added an especially... interesting new purchase to her repertoire, which she's excited to try for the first time tonight - as she finishes the last of its preparations, she sets this particular toy just under the edge of the bed, to retrieve later as a delightful surprise for her partner.

Roy is far from the only one Riza's had - she's had several conquests under her belt (usually quite literally), but there is no doubt that Roy is one of her most favored, and also her latest and most proud achievement; only recently has she finally got him to not only re-embrace his dressing tendencies, but also his enthusiastically submissive sexual preferences. In layman's terms, he is very much a bottom - and like most aspects of his character, this is usually cleverly hidden beneath his surface. But like any buried treasure, it was both delightful and delightfully rewarding to uncover.

It's taken a few years for them to reach this level of comfort with each other - even longer to discover and accept these qualities about themselves.

Those early years were terribly awkward - mostly just terrible. They were still reeling from the slaughter they'd been forced to carry out in Ishval, desperately laying the groundwork for the rash, idealistic plan Roy formed in response, and generally just trying to come to grips with the frightening adulthood they'd been thrust into after their idyllic childhood dreams had been shattered. Sex and romance were far from their minds for a long time - they simply did their best to maintain even a shadow of their former friendship within their new dynamic, remolded into something cold and formal, haunted by specters of death from both the past and the future.  

But eventually, Riza's empty heart yearned for sustenance in silent, suffering cries, and Roy drowned his own in so much booze and loose women he was practically dizzy with misery. It figures it would take a team of cheeky subordinates and Hughes' prodding to get them to even acknowledge the tension between them.

Ah, Maes... she misses him so much.

He made this whole "relationship" thing look so easy. Of course, that was all part of the trick - he and Gracia were frighteningly good at hiding their uglier qualities . But just as much, they made it clear how much work a stable, life-long relationship took to stay that way. She learned a lot in her conversations with them.

Such as, how to be unafraid to take the lead in a bedroom situation in which one's doof of a partner keeps trying to top you when it's clear his heart's not into it, but he's fooled himself into believing otherwise. Then how to embrace one's power as you lay upon him, riding him until he's a trembling, starry-eyed mess underneath you, and you can feel a whole world of possibilities opening up between you.

After that, it's mostly a matter of communication - "Just keep talking," Maes always said. Which they did, and still do.

But with all their progress, there is still the lingering question of whether this "relationship" of theirs was truly romantic or not. Riza and Roy were definitely more than friends by now, and their mutual devotion to each other was unshakable - and yet, neither of them have felt a great need to commit to the other wholly and completely, no matter what the circulating rumors would imply.

...And besides, the very last thing either of them want is to be tied to each other that way, considering their troubled pasts and already-stifling professional lives - and Roy knows better than to impose such a thing on her.

So, you could call them lovers, sure - but there was still nothing entirely traditional about their coupling. Perhaps it's only fair - they'd always had a penchant for quietly rebelling against tradition.

Speaking of, a lovely image of rebellion finally enters the room and makes himself known with a small cough.

Riza turns to see Roy standing at her bedroom's entrance, freshened up, comfortable, and ready to be at her mercy. He's washed his face clean of makeup, and removed his earrings and high-heeled shoes (his stance is more relaxed now that he isn't balancing precariously on them), but otherwise, he remains fully dressed.

Riza cocks an eyebrow as she looks him up and down - she herself still wears her button-down shirt to cover her back and shoulders (again, for obvious reasons), but leaves its front wide open, revealing her to be wearing nothing else besides her underwear. Her bra is dark and lacy, modest enough to cover half of her breasts, but only that much, leaving a healthy amount of cleavage showing. Her panties appear average, but closer inspection shows them to be of thin, lacy material that leaves little to the imagination in terms of her curves.

It suits her - Riza may appear modest at a surface level, but she is still very much a woman with wants and needs. And now, she acts upon those needs.

She retrieves the first toy of choice from the bed - a long, thin riding crop, made for use on humans instead of animals. Its tip is of a softened leather, nothing that will draw blood or severe welting, but will certainly bring sharp, painful pleasure with enough speed and force. Riza prefers this over a paddle, as she enjoys the long, precise strikes she can create with it. This, and its natural connection to Roy's surname, made it too amusingly appropriate to pass up.

Roy, also aware of this, smiles with amusement as Riza approaches him with the crop in hand, swishing it lightly.

"Finally ready, are you?" Riza teases, easing into her dominant tone as she eases them into their roleplay for the night. "You know I don't like waiting too long."

"My apologies, Lieutenant," Roy replies. "I only wanted to be... properly ready for your enjoyment." His voice and expression is demure, but still holds the ever-present air of cockiness that Riza is always eager to challenge - and eventually break.

She makes this intention clear as she circles him, crop in-hand, touching lightly along his curves with her other hand and drinking him in with her eyes, as if he were a sacrificial maiden brought to the mouth of her cave. She finds herself pinching at the fabric of his dress where the slightly-torn slit is.

She meets his eyes. "Still want me to tear it off?"

Roy flutters his lashes, still smiling. "If it pleases you, Lieutenant."

Riza clicks her tongue, feigning disapproval. "Shameless. You're practically begging for it."

"Not quite, but I am very eager."

Riza shakes her head, chuckling. "Of course you are."

But she begins to think of this more seriously, studying Roy's face, and she can't tell if he's suggesting this out of wine-fueled lust or otherwise. Perhaps he's eager to be rid of the dress so he doesn't end up banishing it to the back of his closet after tonight, like he's done to so many other garments - left to gather dust for months on end when he falls into another depressive spell.

Either way, Riza ultimately decides against it.

"It is tempting... but it'd be such a shame, don't you think? Your sister worked hard to finish it in time, and you do look so lovely in it. I think there's still some... uses to be had." She lets her words drip like honey, watching Roy's smile widen ever-so-slightly as he hears them.

Roy purses his lips and nods. "True enough."

Then Riza draws closer, slipping her hand fully into his hip, feeling the skin of his ass and the lacy edges of his underwear, growling softly. "And don't worry - I'll have you begging yet."

Roy trembles deliciously at the touch, and she doesn't miss the suppression of a moan in his throat.

And so their play begins in earnest - Riza leading with possessive touches, stern commands and flicks of her riding crop, while Roy submits to her with expectant looks and quiet responses, only speaking to answer her.

"Now- I want you to be still, and quiet. You are not just my Colonel, you are my toy - a lovely, pretty toy, to do with as I please. Toys don't move or talk back. And they are not allowed to touch me until I say so. Understand?"

"Yes, Lieutenant."

"No matter how close... or how tempting..." She draws even closer to Roy's front, snaking her arms about his waist and pressing her body flush against his. "You... will not move."

She savors the feel of his body against hers, her breasts pressing against the quickening breaths of his chest, his bulge twitching slightly near her hips. She traces the curves of his backside with her hands as she dips her head into the crook of his neck to breathe in his scent.

"Yes," Roy whispers, strained and breathless. His arms tense at his sides, and the rest of him trembles, no doubt fighting every urge inside him to reciprocate her touch. With her body exposed and in such close proximity, it would be very, very easy.

But, he does not move. After drinking her fill, Riza draws away and smiles up at him, smug. "Impressive," she purrs. "Who would guess that the great Colonel Mustang was so good at following orders?"

Roy relaxes, catching his breath for a moment. "Only when they're from you, Lieutenant," he says softly, fluttering his lidded eyes again. Even without most of his makeup, he is still beautiful - soft cheekbones, almond-shaped eyes, full lips and dark hair - and with the light in his eyes and rosy redness dusting his cheeks, he seems so soft, so demure, so... feminine.

Hmm... Perhaps this is another opportunity to prod his insecurities into a more confident light.

"Aw- so sweet. So eager," Riza purrs, rubbing circles into Roy's hips with her thumbs. She watches his face as he savors the sensation, squirming against her touch, barely suppressing small moans and a tiny smile.

She makes her move. "You're such a good girl."

Roy's eyes widen at the words, and his blush darkens - but he says nothing, and doesn't show any obvious signs of protest or discomfort. Actually, Riza can almost hear a small sigh escaping him... Perhaps she was correct after all in referring to Roy as a woman earlier. 

The opposite could still be true, of course. Maybe he was just in the mood for being feminized tonight - he did have a thing for humiliation - but if that were true, he wouldn't have spent so much effort in dressing up for the occasion, would have settled for a slapdash mockery of an outfit for the full 'sissy-ing' effect. That and he would have called the 'madam' gesture earlier unwanted, not unnecessary. So Riza feels confident in her first assumption.

But, just to make sure... Riza draws close again, not to tease, but to whisper in his ear. "You don't protest this, do you, madam?"

Roy's breath hitches, throat swallowing. "I- Erm. N- not if it pleases you, Lieutenant."

Riza's hands travel up his backside again, this time to rub comforting circles into his back. "It's not all for my pleasure - it's for yours as well, you know this."

"Mmm." Roy hums nervously, dips his head with a nod to confirm. Whether it's for the feminine pronouns isn't entirely clear, though - poor thing, perhaps his head won't let him get the words out.

Riza sighs lightly, kissing small apologies into his neck and collar bones. "You know our safe words," she murmurs in her normal tone. "Tell me when it's too much."

"Mhm." Roy grunts to confirm again, but this time he sounds more sure of himself - herself, rather. Riza decides she will address Roy as such, if only for tonight, and until she says otherwise. She will be regarded as any other female lover - she is beautiful, after all.

"Good," Riza says aloud, picking up her dominant tone again. "Because you are lovely, madam- ravishing, even."

She continues pressing her lips along Roy's neck and shoulder, tracing the line of the halter-style straps that travel up and to the back of his neck. She catches some of it in her teeth, lifts her hands to the knot holding them together, and in one swift motion, unties the top of Roy's dress so that it falls away around her waist, fully exposing her chest.

Riza is mildly disappointed, but not entirely surprised, to see Roy was not sporting a bra underneath. Ah well.

Instead Roy startles, flushing further, and her arms jerk upward and inward as if ready to cover herself - no doubt ashamed of how unflatteringly not-feminine her body is. Riza stops this with gentle hands on Roy's wrists, maintaining eye contact.

"Like I said - you are one of a kind, completely unique, madam," Riza says. "Always have been. Frankly, I feel honored to have someone so precious in my company tonight."

Roy relaxes at this, eyes softening with warmth and appreciation. And Riza smiles - but just to prove her point, she moves her hands to Roy's breasts, tracing her curves, and teases at her nipples. She pinches one between two fingers, drawing a small groan from her.

Riza watches Roy's face, savoring the way she squirms under her slightest of touches - and then dips, bringing her lips to Roy's captive nipple, catching it in her teeth, lightly licking and nibbling. This brings out more and louder groans from Roy, chest starting to heave from her breathing - and yet she is as still as she can be, still keeping her arms lowered and making no moves to reciprocate the touch.

But Riza only pushes her further - she continues her ministrations as her free hand reaches down and around to the front of Roy's hips, to the small bulge in the fabric between her legs. She grasps at it, feeling the warm, twitching head of a cock, and Roy gasps softly.

"Gorgeous," Riza whispers into Roy's skin, relinquishing her nipple. "So beautiful. How jealous our squadron would be of me, having our lovely Miss Colonel all to myself."

She moves her lips to Roy's other breast, and continues her worship of her partner's chest with her mouth, and of her cock with her fingers, gently stroking Roy through the layers of fabric. All the while, Roy is a twitching, sighing, moaning little mess.

Riza chuckles, and whispers into Roy's other breast as well. "One day, they'll see you in all your glory. They'll understand just how lucky I am. Maybe the whole country will, someday..."

At this, Roy tenses slightly,  her moans and squirms subsiding. A pallor seems to fall over her, and she chuckles darkly under her breath. "Hah- That'll never happen..."

Riza stops her movements, relinquishing her hold and drawing away. Giving Roy a glowering look, she raises her riding crop and strikes at Roy's thighs, drawing a small cry from her.

"I said no talking," Riza tuts. "Especially so negatively. Bad girl."

Roy grunts in response, lowering her eyes and head in shame, submission - but it isn't clear whether the punishment was entirely welcome.

Riza reaches up to cup Roy's chin, gently lifting her head and forcing her to lock eyes - a common tactic she uses to assess her partner's state of being without breaking character. It's also handy in her play with Roy, as a way to make her feel smaller, despite how she physically dwarfs Riza by a significant amount.

Right now, gazing into Roy's dark eyes, she sees them to be twitching and slightly reddened with moisture - signs of an inner pain, a great sadness. Something between her words and touches may have brought about another wave of dysphoria in Roy - well, time to remedy that.

"I said you are beautiful," Riza says sternly, never breaking eye contact. "And I am in control right now, so what I say, goes. Understand?"

Roy lowers her eyes for a moment, wetting her lips nervously. Riza brandishes her crop again, now to tap it upon Roy's hip - like a race horse, it is not to harm, but to let her know it is there.

"You are a beautiful, smart, powerful young woman," Riza commands. "And I won't hear otherwise, or you'll get punished again. Do you understand?"

Roy shivers, caught between Riza's hold and her crop, and it would not be unexpected for her to bring out a safe word now - but she instead she relaxes, and meets Riza's eyes again. The gloom that seemed to take hold of her is ebbing away, replaced with that familiar light of confidence that Roy wears so well. Her breathing evens out, and she gives a small nod.

Riza smiles. "Good girl. You were doing well beforehand - I think you're due for a reward."

She releases her hold on Roy's chin and lowers the riding crop, allowing Roy a moment to relax. She deposits the crop back on the bed, leaving her hands free to take Roy by the waist. Another sigh escapes Roy as Riza holds her, then leans forward to kiss at her breasts again. "Come now, I have just the thing."

Then Riza gently pulls her towards the bed, leading her by the waist, almost like a dance - one in which her partner is carefully undressed as they glide across the floor. By the time Roy has been spun about and settled into a sitting position on the bed, her dress has been pulled down to gather around her knees, then her ankles, and then the smooth fabric has pooled onto the floor.

And just as she's been looking forward to all night, Riza sees the full extent of the dark, lacy leggings and garters Roy was wearing underneath, complementing her long, slender legs, complete with a pair of panties that can hardly contain her erect cock by now. She looks positively scrumptious.

Riza casts long, hungry looks across her form. Her hands drink in the sensation of Roy's legs encased in the thin, silky material as they travel down from her knees, then up from her ankles, settling above her thighs where her bare skin peeks out.

Riza hooks a finger around one of the garter-straps holding up the leggings as she locks eyes with Roy again. "My, my- You've certainly dressed yourself up for tonight," she purrs.

Roy flutters her lashes again, and lets her voice heighten in pitch and soften in tone to lean more into her femininity: "Well, of course- a proper toy should look nice for her master, after all."

Riza grins, equally excited from Roy's tease and embracing of her gender. But, needing to keep up the play, she lets her smile turn wolfish. "You're so eager to please - too eager."

Her finger holding the garter-strap pulls away, stretching the material, then lets go, making it snap against Roy's thigh-skin. Roy bristles at the sensation and lets out a startled cry that's clearly exaggerated, then bites at her lower lip, whimpering softly. Ever the actor, she sells it extravagantly well.

Riza stifles a giggle as she rises to her feet. "You naughty little thing - you'll get your just desserts, but I suppose I'll give you your reward first. Lay down on your stomach."

Roy obeys, flashing a coy smile as she lowers herself onto the bed and rolls over, leaving her backside facing up. She folds her arms under the pillow and rests her head above them, arcing her back in such a way to show off as much of her round ass as possible in her new position.

Riza doesn't bother to stifle another laugh as she watches Roy, walking around the bed at the same time toward her nightstand. From it she retrieves a small, sweet-smelling bottle, and pours an oily substance from it into her hands, smelling even stronger. She rubs it between her palms as she joins Roy on the bed, sitting beside the other's hips.

"Since you've been so stressed lately, I'll give you a little massage - then you'll be nice and relaxed for what I have next."

Roy hums in response, rising into a small moan at Riza begins working her oil-encased hands into her shoulders. She works her way down, rubbing out the remaining knots of tension in Roy's muscles, all along her spine until she's reached her hips. She pinches at the beginnings of a larger person's love handles peeking out above Roy's pelvis, and when she looks up again, she sees that Roy has sunk so deeply into her pillow she looks almost half-asleep. Which won't do at all - Riza quietly unhooks Roy's garters, pushes down the hem of her leggings, widens the leg-holes of her panties, then takes a firm hold of Roy's asscheeks with both hands.

Roy startles back into awareness, moaning and twitching her hips as Riza kneads her asscheeks vigorously, clearly not for any clinical reason - merely to revel in the smooth, soft roundness of them, so much like perfect little balls of dough.

"Mmm," Riza hums, "You naughty thing - I keep telling you to lay off the sugar, and yet here you are, with your chubby little ass."

She eases up on her ministrations a little, giving Roy a chance to catch her breath and respond. She turns her head on the pillow to not-quite look back at her. "You know I can't help my tastes, Lieutenant - I simply won't settle for less."

"'Settle,' hm? Getting uppity, arent' we?" Riza growls. "Time to put you back in your place, then." And she demonstrates by drawing back, lifting an arm, and striking Roy's exposed ass with an open-handed slap. The little dough-balls jiggle deliciously with the force, and Roy cries out in both surprise and arousal, tensing and arcing her back.

"Oh, do you not like that? Too bad," Riza tuts, and spanks her again, then again for good measure, drawing a similar response each time - a jolt that sends Roy's body writhing, and a thrill of excitement through Riza's being.

"I've been nice to you so far, but you're far overdue for some punishment," Riza says, standing off from the bed and wiping off her oily hands on a nearby hand-towel. She retrieves her riding crop and stands by Roy's bedside, towering over her prone form.

"Oh no- please don't," Roy whimpers, exaggerating it as usual, as she can barely hide the excited smile that plays at the edges of her lips. Riza doesn't doubt that her own face looks the same. This kind of roleplay has been a favorite of theirs for several years, though tonight's exploration of Roy's gender has put an exciting new twist on it. Either way, Roy's protests are only a part of the play - never take her at her word, after all. If she really wanted to stop, she'd use their safe words.

Riza smiles devilishly. "You've been a very bad girl." And with one hand bracing against the small of Roy's back, she lifts her riding crop and begins whipping it vigorously against Roy's ass.

Whack! Whack! "You've been hanging around far too many other girls - you're just like them now. A proper slut, aren't you?" Riza's dirty-talk is as relentless as her blows. She relishes this role - it's ideal for satisfying her needs and venting her frustrations, considering the hardships she has endured, and will only continue to.

Whack! Whack! "And you love this, don't you? I can see you getting harder down there. Simply shameless." Roy's ass turns pink, then bright red in color as the blows continue, and her cries only grow in pitch and frequency. Soon she's making muffled groans into her pillow, face fully buried into it.

Whack! Whack! "Just look at you - your big round ass out in the open. Just imagine if the others saw you like this - the whole team coming in one morning and seeing you bent over your desk."

Whack! Whack! "Even better - imagine we're at another one of those parties, your slutty ass on full display for everyone to see."

Roy bucks her hips, hissing through her teeth. "No, please," she says, "Ah- anything but that-"

WHACK! An especially hard blow. "Quiet! You know you'd love it, you little whore. You're imagining it right now. All those guests, all those Generals, everyone looking at you so hungrily."

Roy dips her head back into her pillow again, stifling a loud groan.

Whack-whack! "Your reputation ruined in an instant - instead everyone knows Roy Mustang as the biggest whore in Amestris, putting out for anyone to get what she wants. Instead of the top you're going straight to the bottom, under every cock they plow into you. But don't worry- I won't let them touch you, not one of them. Not until I've had my fun first."

Another strike, and then a few more, and now Roy was just writhing against the bed, clutching her pillow like a lifeline, ass cheeks resembling a pair of ripe tomatoes, her cock wetting her panties with precum. From what Riza can see, her eyes are squeezed tightly closed and leaking a few tears - she was reaching her limit.

Riza gives her one last whack for finality, but without the usual force, more of a love-tap than anything else. "There- have you learned your lesson, little lady?"

She pauses to allow Roy to recover - and herself as well, letting her arm rest and her adrenaline and arousal to subside. The silence sinks in for a few moments.

Roy pants, breathing herself back into coherence. When she can speak clearly, her voice is watery. "N-no... Please, Lieutenant,  give me more. I've been so bad- the worst..."

Riza chuckles, but she's slightly concerned - normally Roy would play along and say she's had enough. "Aw- but your poor little bottom looks so sore," she says, petting at Roy's bright red backside.

"I need it," Roy murmurs into her pillow. "I- I deserve it." Her voice is quiet, near-whispering, and edging dangerously close to a sob. Ah- she's dipped back into her self-loathing, poor thing. Maybe the roleplay went too far again...

Riza changes her petting to a soothing rub, and her tone to something softer. "Easy, now- I say whether you've had enough. I'm in charge, remember?"

She rubs at Roy's backside, gently, massaging away the tension that's recollected there - soon Roy is relaxing again, and she hums in response. "Mm..."

"Tell you what," Riza continues, "Be a good girl and hang in there just a little bit longer, and I'll give you what you really deserve."

Roy seems to perk up a little at this, shifting her head to glance behind her. As she does, Riza retrieves another bottle from her nightstand - from it, she pours a cool, slick liquid onto her hands, and she rubs her palms together to warm it with her body heat.

She notices Roy's eyes brightening across the bed, and Riza grins. "That's right - time to make you nice and loose. Spread your legs for me."

Roy obeys, even more enthusiastically than Riza predicted - she not only spreads her legs, she shimmies them to and fro as she hooks into her panties and leggings with her thumbs and shrugs them down, pushing them down to her knees and exposing herself fully.

"Oh ho," Riza chuckles as she approaches Roy again. "Trying hard to be a good girl again, aren't you?"

"Only for you, Lieutenant," Roy responds, in a voice that's somewhere between a sweet little housewife and an amateur prostitute, maybe both at once.

Riza can only laugh. "You're adorable," she says, dipping into sincerity for a moment. This colors Roy's cheeks with another embarrassed blush.

She reddens further as Riza gently spreads her ass with her hands, giving easy access to her hole. "Now, don't come yet," she warns. "Only when I say you can, or you won't get your reward."

"Yes," Roy breathes.

And Riza enters her, carefully, with a lubed finger - she stops as Roy hisses and tenses, waits for her to adjust. Once she feels the muscles relax and Roy gives a signal, Riza pushes in further, and repeats the process until she can fit a second finger inside.

Roy makes all sorts of noises and movements in her efforts to not come - she even arcs her back and lifts her hips so that her dribbling cock hangs limply in the air between her thighs, denying herself any physical contact.

Luckily it doesn't take very long until she's ready - there's hardly any resistance once Riza pulls out her fingers. She pats Roy's ass affectionately. "What a good girl... Stay right there."

And now Riza finally pulls out what she's been waiting all night to use - her latest and most prized toy so far, a strap-on harness and dildo she'd hidden just under the edge of her bed. She steps into it and begins clipping it on, stifling another excited giggle. "Now, turn around."

Roy rolls onto her back in time to see Riza tightening the strap-on and giving an experimental tug on the dildo - when they lock eyes, the roleplay breaks down for a few moments as they flash each other giddy, excited grins.

This is slightly new territory for both of them - in the past, Riza would usually pump a dildo in and out of Roy by hand, sometimes plugging it in while stroking her off to finish. The mechanics aren't so different here, but the manner of applying them definitely is, and they're both equally excited for it.

Riza is quick to clear her throat and get back to business. "Ahem- that's right, I'm going to fuck you just like you want, you little whore."

Roy's eyes grow to saucer-width, practically sparkling, and she nods enthusiastically. Riza applies a layer of lube to the dildo, then steps forward, smiling as she watches Roy scoot herself closer to the foot of the bed. She dutifully lifts her knees, allowing Riza to take hold of them and pull her panties and leggings off of her legs completely, leaving her completely naked and oh-so vulnerable.

Riza lifts Roy's knees to rest on her shoulders, grasps her thighs, and carefully guides the tip of the dildo toward Roy's entrance - all the while brimming with excitement and arousal at this new position. She pushes the dildo inside with one hand, uses the other to brace Roy's thigh, all the while glancing between it and Roy's face to make sure she isn't hurting her. She pauses when she notices Roy wincing, continues when Roy nods to urge her on, and soon enough, half of the dildo is securely inside. Then, with a hand still covered in leftover lube, she finally takes hold of Roy's cock, hot and tremulous in her grip.

Roy was moaning loudly at this point, more from pleasure than pain, squirming around the dildo with a need for more friction. Riza takes ones last opportunity to tease her. "Yes - you love it, you slut. You can come now, but you wouldn't have much choice in the matter with such a big cock in your ass."

"Oh, please," Roy whimpers.

Riza smiles. "Told you I'd make you beg."

And slowly, Riza begins bucking her hips, working the phallus deeper and deeper until she's buried it to the hilt inside her partner. Then she carefully pulls out, gives a moment for them both to breathe, then works it back in again, and in this way she slowly and carefully fucks Roy at an easy rhythm as they acclimate to the toy. All the while she strokes at Roy's cock lightly, and just as slowly.

And Roy just writhes against her, twitching and moaning with an open, lolling mouth, her sounds lilting back and forth in time with their movements. She does her best to keep pace with Riza's movements in the grind of her hips, even as she aches for more, occasionally bucking against her in silent pleas for more. Her hands twitch uselessly at her sides 'till she digs her fingers into the bedsheets beneath her, grabbing fistfuls of fabric in a vicegrip.

"Please- harder, please," Roy whines between sharp gasps of breath, not quite looking at anything, her eyes glazed over with pleasure.

Riza can only comply. She hums with satisfaction as she picks up the pace, faster and harder in both her thrusting and stroking. Soon she's pounding Roy senselessly, the haze of lust taking over completely as she gives into the raw, primal nature of their copulation. The slapping of skin, the deep grunts and moans, the all-consuming heat - the appeal of this action for natural  phallus-owners is crystal clear to her now.

Riza's only regret is that she can't feel anything through the dildo - she could more accurately hit Roy's prostate otherwise. But going hard and deep like this seems to do the trick just fine, and she gets more than enough pleasure from just this - the feel of her hips slamming against Roy's, her cock pulsing against her fingers, watching her come undone just beneath her.

By now, Riza's own womanhood was throbbing within the confines of her undergarments, because on top of everything else, the base of the dildo presses deliciously against her clitoral area every time she thrusts forward. She can feel her cunt wetting into the fabric of her panties, and again she half-wonders if she may lose her composure before Roy for a moment.

Only a moment, as the evidence is to the contrary.

Roy is completely senseless now - body shuddering, eyes rolling back, mouth hanging open with loud, strained cries. Any words she's saying are barely coherent, but they seem to be the usual - 'god,' 'yes,' 'please,' and 'more.'

The 'yes'es become more pronounced as Roy approaches her edge, squeezing tears from her eyes as her wails grow into high-pitched whines. Riza's nearly breathless with the effort of her thrusting, but she finds the lung capacity to choke out one last command.

"Yes, yes- come for me, Roy."

And with one last, deep thrust and a hard stroke of her cock, Roy finally does, and hard.

Her body locks in place for a moment, then shudders violently as shockwaves course through her, undulating her spine and rocking her trembling hips and thighs. Her throbbing red cock sprays copious amounts of cum across her chest and stomach, and her cries rise into a loud, long scream of pleasure that peters out into a deep, satisfied groan.

The reaction is so intense that for a moment, Riza's instinct is to fear she's hurt her - but then she remembers that Roy hasn't had this kind of action for nearly a year, on top of the drawn-out foreplay. And besides, she's always been embarrassingly loud.

Breathless as she watches her, Riza gently squeezes droplets from Roy's shuddering cock as she rides out her tremors, at the same time pulling her hips away to remove the dildo, resisting every urge in her to keep thrusting toward her own climax, not wanting to overwhelm Roy further and having a better idea for that anyway.

She briefly presses her lips to one of Roy's thighs. "Beautiful... absolutely gorgeous... You did so well," she whispers, a little hoarse.

She forces her trembling hands to lower Roy's legs, then unwork the belts of her strap-on to pull it down and off. She kicks aside the toy unceremoniously - she'll clean it later. For now, she has a much more pressing need. She crawls onto Roy on the bed, grasping along the curves of her body -  Roy feels so relaxed beneath her hands that she's surprised she can still feel bones inside her, not having turned to mush from the heat enveloping her entire being.

Trembling and weaker in the hips than she predicted, Riza drudges up the last of her composure to make one last demand as she straddles Roy's stomach. "Huff- We're not done yet- You- you still have a mess to clean up, slut."

Roy hardly notices her, still swimming in the sea of post-orgasm bliss, but Riza nonetheless begins tugging down her panties, a significant wet spot in their center. She stands on her knees to pull them down and fully expose her dripping cunt, and at this, Roy finally takes notice.

Riza scoots closer, moving her hips up and past Roy's chest. "Time to - huff - use that whore mouth of yours for something useful- Ah- Pleasure me, Roy." Her tone falters toward the end, between her exhaustion and her precariously-desperate need.

Roy's eyes widen, but she grunts and nods, probably too tired and hoarse to respond verbally. She adjusts herself to grab Riza's hips, savoring her curves with her hands as she urges Riza's slickness closer. Then she's sitting squarely upon Roy's face, her legs spread out across her pillow as her lower lips meet Roy's own.

Roy's silver tongue wasn't just skilled in conversation, and begins to eagerly demonstrate the many techniques she employs to garner so much popularity with women in her suave bachelor persona. She quickly parts Riza's slit with her tongue, darting at and around her clitoris and drawing shockwaves from her; she moves down to her vaginal opening to stroke along its rim to bring her shivers; and all the while, her fingers work themselves into the curves of Riza's ass to tease at her other end.

Roy works faster, deeper, employing every part of her mouth to service her partner, and Riza is quickly reduced to a moaning, twitching mess atop her. She grasps the bed's headboard to brace herself against Roy's ministrations, and as much as she'd love to draw this out and savor it further, the coil in her belly and sparks in her veins are already too tight and hot to be denied their climax.

Then Roy begins sucking upon her clitoris, and any attempts to continue their play, or speak at all, fall apart as quickly as Riza does. Her orgasm quickly crashes through her and leaves her as a deep, loud groan, stars speckling the back of her darkening vision.

And yet Roy is relentless, continuing her licking and suckling as Riza trembles and wails above her, lapping up her juices like a hungry animal. Perhaps she was enacting some kind of revenge, or was simply insistent on giving Riza some fraction of the pleasure she'd dished out - either way, Roy continues eating her out for a little while more, overstimulating her until she's too tired to continue.

Roy signals this with a gentle push, urging Riza off of her. She does so, all but flopping onto the other side of the bed as Roy scoots herself back towards her pillow and catches her breath. Riza has to close her eyes for a while, so great is her exhaustion - she stops short of falling asleep, however, forcing her eyes open to check in on Roy.

Roy is a sight to behold now - naked, hair a mess, skin splotchy, face and chest covered in semen and fluids, not to mention the welts and oils decorating her backside - and she is only more beautiful than before. Her half-lidded eyes hardly register the world around her, dark and sparkling like a night in the clear-skied countryside, pooling with leftover moisture and a deep, satisfied pleasure.

"Roy." Riza speaks softly to get her attention. Roy opens her eyes fully to look at her, and the sparkle of her eyes brightens further.

She rolls to her side and extends her arms to wrap around Riza's shoulders, drawing her in for a hug. "Thank you," Roy whispers hoarsely. "Thank you so much."

Riza chuckles against her chest. "So you enjoyed yourself?"

"Yes- God, yes. More than that, I- You were right. I... I needed that."

Riza pulls back her head, enough to meet Roy's eyes again. "Even calling you 'madam?'

Roy blinks, once, twice, breathes out slowly. "I... Yeah. Yeah, even that."

Riza smiles. "So I guessed right."

Roy laughs, a weak, breathy sound in her throat. "I think you officially know me too well, now."

"I only do my best, madam," Riza says, a breathless little tease.

"You certainly do - and you are. You're the best, Riza," Roy whispers, giving her a half-hearted but nonetheless tender kiss to the lips - which is wet and tastes of Riza's own essence, but she pays it no mind.

When they pull away, silence settles in again, and they simply lay there, watching each other breathing, drifting slowly towards unconsciousness - until a thought crosses Riza's mind. Truthfully it's more like a small worry that's plagued her all through their copulation, and she feels the need to voice it before she falls asleep and forgets it completely.

"Um- I should ask. What should I call you?"

Roy, almost half-asleep again, opens an eye. "Mm?"

"I mean- if you're serious about... this," Riza gestures vaguely, "Is there another name you would prefer?"

Roy closes her eyes, squeezes both, then wipes a hand across her face, groaning softly. "Erm- I don't... really know, honestly. It's still..."

She blinks a few times again, and when she leaves them open, there's that distant, burning look in her eyes, the one she wears every time she snaps a flame into being - no, this is different. This is quieter, more introspective. She's searching inside herself, but not for any Alchemical formula or dark, terrible memory.

"...I'm still figuring it out," she says finally. "Roy is still fine, I don't really mind. I mean, I'm not even sure if this is even... well, a real thing. Maybe it's just for tonight. Or nights like this - you know, just for the roleplay-"

Riza silences her with a finger to her lips. "I get it," she chuckles. "Whatever it is, you don't have to justify it to me, you know."

Roy smiles around her finger, but there's something sad in her expression. "I know- I think I'm justifying it to myself more than anything."

Riza hums sadly, moving her hand instead to brush aside Roy's mussed bangs. "I'll only ask what I always do - talk to me. Tell me everything - or at least, anything I can do to make this easier. I don't want to have to push you again, like tonight."

She cups Roy's cheek with her palm, and Roy sighs and leans into it, closing her eyes. Her throat moves, but she says nothing - perhaps nothing more needs to be said, for now.

"Listen- whatever you are - or want to be - I will support you. Always. Just like I promised," Riza says, just to put it in words that Roy can hear, making it absolutely clear and unshakable.

Roy opens her eyes, soft with moisture again. "Even into hell..." she murmurs.

"Even into hell," Riza echoes, and she withdraws her hand and lays back, letting her eyes be pulled shut by the waves of exhaustion and bliss that still lap at her. She watches Roy one last time as her vision unfocuses and drifts into dreamless sleep.

Her last conscious thought is of Roy - her, him or otherwise - and how lucky she feels to be the retainer of such a proud, beautiful flame.

END.

#royai #trans roy #trans royai #sub roy #dom riza #jeminy3 art #jeminy writes

[eyfey]

Do you have advice on how to improve on translating? Also, what made you want to start translating? Major props to you for translating Saiki because Akechi Touma’s lines kinda make me wanna die inside.

Thanks!!! (though tbh Akechi’s blathering is not NEARLY as bad as the non-stop puns/obscure references lol)

For what made me start translating:I found some Pyu to Fuku Jaguar raws for cheap at a used bookstore and started learning Japanese so I could read them. Once I got a little faster at reading, I noticed the Jaguar scanlation team had lost their translator, so I offered to join. My first translations were super not great (the only reason they’re even somewhat accurate is because Mangahelpers was more active at the time and I posted my translations there in the forums for people to proofread/asked for help whenever there was any kanji/grammar I got stuck on.

(If you want to go read my first translation, it’s ch62 of Pyu to Fuku! Jaguar. …Looking at it now, there’s so many places I could’ve translated better lol)

Since then I’ve gotten a lot better:

So here’s my hot tips on how to get better at translating!!!(under the readmore ‘cause it’s looong)

The number one thing that I recommend is… Just Translate! Pick up some raws and start doing some translations! They’re probably gonna be bad at first but who cares! You gotta start somewhere! Translating forces you to think about how to actually translate stuff and makes you look up words/grammar you don’t know. If you’re translating for a group/actually releasing your translations: You’ve got deadlines now! People looking forward to your translations! You’ve got consequences that will make it harder for you to slack off and drop your studies!

Google things! Whenever there’s a word/phrase/grammar that you don’t know: Google it! Google is a translators best friend!!!

Here’s some keywords I use:“[vocab/phrase in japanese] 英語で” will give you a google translate of the vocab, and if you scroll down a little like a weblio page or something with some translations for the vocab (the weblio/other pages are usually more accurate than the google translate option).

“[grammar in japanese] grammar” - Example 食べさせた (tabesaseta). Can’t remember what the -saseta verb ending meants? (I don’t blame you lol) Google “させた grammar” and you’ll get some pages in english explaining it along with several examples.

Have another translator proofread your translations! They can help you with vocab/grammar, parts that you misread, or even just suggest different ways to translate things that might fit better in different situations. The first scanlation group I was in did this and I learned soooo much that way! I don’t know how many other groups do this though (or how many other groups even have more than one translator) so maybe I just lucked out!

Fun fact! If something seems out of place when you’re reading/translating, it’s probably one of the following:a). A pun/cultural reference. b). A specific phrase/saying that shouldn’t be taken literally. (Googling the entire phrase will usually give you an equivelant phrase or appropriate definition in English.)c). Some weird grammar that you’re translating wrong (do a deep google: a lot of grammar forms have multiple meanings/change meaning based on very small factors/are very similar sounding to other different grammar forms)

Understand that a literal translation is not always a good or accurate translation: There’s some famous Natsume Souseki shenanigans where the line “I love you” was translated as “The moon is beautiful” in Japanese, because of how Japanese people are more shy or something and would never say “I love you straight out”. Natsume Souseki is valid- some things when you translate directly lose their nuance and change the meaning to something completely different.

That being said, changing TOO much will also ruin your translation. It’s a fine balance.The point is: once you understand what the Japanese says, you gotta think “okay now how would they say this in English?” If this series were originally in English, how would the author write that dialogue? What is the main point that needs to get across and what is the tone and how do you accurately convey both of those in English?

Consume! Consume media! Read stuff! Watch TV! Listen Learn how people talk! Get a bunch of English vocabulary up in your head and save it for later. Translating is not just understanding, it’s also WRITING. You need to have at least SOME understanding of how to write a poem if you want to translate a poem. You need to have at least SOME understanding of how to write comics/fiction if you want to translate comics/fiction.

Read/watch translated stuff! See how other translators translate certain words/phrases and take notes. Steal their cool ways of translating things and incorporate them into your own translations. Notice what DOESN’T work in a translation and make a mental note to not do that. (Season 2 of Aggretsuko on Netflix had me going “WOW that’s a good translation!” constantly while watching it. Good job Aggretsuko S2 netflix translator!)

Google again! Remember how you had to google to learn Japanese words? Good! Now google English words too! Google vocab terms! Google synonyms! Google phrases/sayings! Google words to make sure you’re spelling them right! Google grammar to make sure you’re using it right! GOOGLE!

Accents/dialects: Tread carefully with accents and speech quirks. Sprinkle them in, don’t lay them on heavy. Read the dialogue you’ve written and think “Does this sound like how an actual person would talk? or does this sound like someone putting on a shitty fake accent?” I’ve seen so many translations where people slam the accent on so hard you can’t even read the dialogue any more… It’s not great. *Exceptions for if the character IS putting on a shitty fake accent in Japanese, in which case go hog wild.

Puns: If you hate yourself, you will try to translate the puns instead of putting a translators note. Don’t worry too much about translating the pun EXACTLY. With puns/jokes, there’s two important factors at play: 1. What is the joke? Is it a reference? Is it a play on words? 2. What is the text ACTUALLY saying?Start by translating the line with no pun, just regular dialogue, and then adjust from there. Then re-word to try and fit in the pun- swap out words for ones that lend themselves better to punnery, or change which part of the sentence has the pun worked into it. (Wanna know a secret? Sometimes*, if the pun is the main focus of the line and there isn’t actually any important meaning to the dialogue? You can just write whatever the fuck you want to fit the pun. *but only if you’re ABSOLUTELY sure that it’s 100% about the pun and there’s no other significance)

しかたがない: This sucks. This phrase sucks. “It can’t be helped” sucks 98% of the time. “What choice do we have”, “Fine then” “What did you expect?” “I guess” “If you insist” “Whatever”. There’s a million ways to translate it, but no one way works for every situation. Sometimes you can just take it out completely. It all boils down to “I don’t want to do this but I’m doing it anyway” so think of what someone might say in that scenario that conveys that feeling and still feels natural.

Sentence structure/double bubbles: Japanese grammar structure is weird. Sometimes they do stuff like put the subject at the end of the sentence. It sounds weird when you do that in English. Don’t do that in english when you’re translating it. If you’ve got a line like 強いね、君は (tsuyoi ne, kimi wa). Please don’t translate it as “You’re strong, you are”. Just translating it as “You’re strong” is good enough. If you want to try and keep the pause in there, you could do something like “Yknow, you’re pretty strong.” If you’ve got something like this that’s split up across multiple speech bubbles- DON’T try to translate each bubble individually. Translate them all together as one big block of text, then divide it where it feels natural, and THEN re-distribute it to the speech bubbles. Sometimes what was in the last bubble will end up in the first bubble.

If it sounds awkward in English- Change it. Figure out what doesn’t sound awkward and make it be that.

PROOFREAD. You’re gonna spell things wrong. You’re gonna misread things. You’re gonna go back and decide to change the wording of a sentence but forget to change the tense of one of the words. You’re gonna translate something too close to the Japanese sentence structure and you won’t really notice it the first go around but when you go back to proofread you’ll be like “Wow. No one talks like that in English.”

For reference, here’s my translation/proofread process:

1. Translate. Get it into English. Doesn’t matter if it sounds janky or awkward right now, just try to get the meaning down in English. Anything you’re not sure you translated right? Mark it so you can double check it later. (I usually do this in a google doc on my phone.)2. 1st passthrough. Go through, and turn all that janky english into more natural sounding English: Check for anything that sounds off and give it some tlc. Reword anything that needs it. Do some hard research on the places you weren’t sure about the first time.3. 2nd passthrough. One more sweep through to polish up any parts that still sound awkward in English. If you’re not pressed for time it’s good to do this one a day or two after the previous passthrough so you’ve had some time to let the translation simmer in the back of your mind. Maybe you’ve come up with a better way to word something? Maybe you came up with a good way to make that joke work?4. Final proofread. Usually I do this after it’s been typeset: Sometimes something that read fine as a script doesn’t read so great when put on a page, divided into bubbles or split into separate pages. Adjust those parts. Check extra hard for any missed typos or messed up grammar ‘cause there IS going to be some that slipped through.

KEEP NOTES: If you’re working on a series, consistency is important and makes you look professional! Keep a document somewhere with translation notes so you can do a quick consistency check whenever necessary. Write down things like: How to spell/translate the names of characters/places/special attacks/etc (especially side characters that only show up every once and a while), how you translate certain catch phrases, how you handle certain characters’ speech quirks. You WILL forget if you spelled that name with one R or two Rs and it’s WAY easier to keep it all in one document than to have to go back and scan through every chapter until you find the ONE panel to see how it was written before. It also helps if you have multiple translators working on a series.

Put your name on your translation scripts if you want to be credited! Doesn’t have to be on every page, just once at the top- I used to not bother 'cause they were always just uploaded directly to the scan groups/never publicly uploaded, but then one day someone used one of my translations and the credit page just said something like “don’t know who to credit” lol

…and that’s all I can think of right now! Hope that helps!

#saiki asks #silenthikari #translation tips

[mittensmorgul]

Can I vent about writing for a second?? I'm having the hardest time coming up with a title for my story. I want something that fits the genre and grabs attention but also isn't generic and makes sense in the context of the story. I know you can't convey everything with just the title, but i've never had this much trouble coming up with something i like:/

Hi there! I’m always happy to try and help anyone out with writing-related things, but I feel I need to lay out some information about myself for two reasons. First off, I... am not good at titles. But second, the fact that I think I’m not good at titles might make you feel better about your own titling issues. :’D

Lets start with some facts about Mittens Titles:

You know how google docs tries to make you give something a title before you close the doc or send a link to someone (beta reader, etc.)? Yeah, I’ve forced myself into the habit of giving all docs “working titles” even if I end up changing it before I post. Sometimes I go through a LOT of different titles, sometimes the working title I thought was dumb ends up being the best thing I can think of and it stays as the title.

Revenge of the Subtext was titled “Fuck Titles” for MONTHS. Because I couldn’t think of anything to call it. I almost published it with that for a title.

The fic I’m currently working on was called “Untitled document” until a few days ago. I’ve been writing it since... September... 9 I think? Nearly two months to throw a couple words up there so gdocs wouldn’t save it as “Chapter 1″ (since gdocs will default to the first line as a title, and if it had its way, every fic I’ve ever written would just be called “Chapter 1″ which is obviously not useful for filing purposes). I have no idea what I’ll eventually call it, but it’s a pinefest fic, so that’s a problem for Future Mittens.

I think Talkin’ Bear Mountain Picnic was called something like “Little Truths” or something for the longest while, which I hated completely.

The Exception To Every Rule was originally called Project Stardust. Lifetime Piling Up was called, incredibly creatively, “dcbb 2019″ for a while. “It’s Destiny” and “It’s Lily Dale” were both titled at one point or another “Miserable Moose.” Until I Know This Sure Uncertainty was originally called EVERYBODY SWAP. Ultraviolet was just called NYOOOOOOM for the longest time.

Winchester 275 wasn’t supposed to be the title. I just stuck it up there because I didn’t want to forget that’s what I’d named Dean’s ranch while I was writing, because I’d gone through about six different names for the thing by that point. I figured I wouldn’t forget if it was in big bold letters at the top of the page. By the time I was halfway through writing the fic, I realized I actually liked it as a title.

Project Beyonce just... got out of hand. :’D

So as soon as I think of anything better than “Untitled document” to call a fic, I slap the title on there. Then I continue to stare at it and hope I come up with something better before I post the thing. Sometimes they change many times. Sometimes I decide the original title is good enough. Mostly the titles I end up posting with are just whatever happens to be in the title spot on the day I post.

I honestly don’t even consider whether it’s attention-grabbing or not. Mostly I think my titles are either little personal jokes or references that probably nobody else gets, but I find amusing (lol I should probably post explanations of all my titles, because some of them are really wackadoo), or just... something that sounded good enough to me to slap it on there. Which is making me think of my current writing project (and feeling like I should be working on that now whoopsie), because I didn’t think the words I put in the title box last night would ever in a million years be the final title (and they still might not be), but the longer I look at them the more I like it.

Generic is FINE! I have fics posted called “Sunset” and “Makeshift” and “Eleven.” Because I couldn’t think of anything better. Pretty generic stuff.

I’m not even sure all my titles seem to “fit” with my fics. I mean, do most people get the Talkin’ Bear Mountain Picnic reference, and how it fits perfectly with that fic? It’s a little bit obscure. I mean, all the fics I’ve titled after songs kind of are that way. Ultraviolet and Lifetime Piling Up, possibly. Did anyone get that The Terminal Job was a Leverage reference? *shrug emoji*

For Pinefest, I wasn’t even trying :’D

I’ve quoted Shakespeare for titles, Jules Verne, Led Zeppelin, The Talking Heads, U2, Bob Dylan, Soundgarden, Jensen Ackles for a stupid pirate joke he likes to tell, and Supernatural itself. Sometimes I use cliches or common phrases (like Working out the Kinks, or Two for the Price of One), and well-known concepts (like Rule 34 or Plotbunny), and simple plays on words (like Oh, Hell No, or In Jeopardy!).

Is there a concept or phrase you repeat throughout the fic? If so, play with that. A song you associate with the story, or imagine playing at some point during the story? Maybe pull a relevant line from it? Or do what I do and just throw something up there for now, and see if it grows on you. I usually find that by the time I’m ready to post, SOMETHING will seem relevant and thematically on target to feel right.

Seriously, anything can be a title, and I have no idea how to magically come up with one, aside from just playing around with words until something just clicks for you.

#writing is hard #titles are the worst #seriously i think i even long ago had a tag for #fuck titles #like back in 2015 :'D #Anonymous

[r6shippingdelivery]

This had been collecting dust in my Google docs for a week, and I finally decided to just post it and stop podering what I should do with it. Some silliness coming right up (Gen, humour hopefully, 2.2k) ! No ships, no smut, just random shenanigans 😂

With an ever expanding roster of operators, training had become harder and harder to coordinate. No amount of planning and rotation was enough to keep all operators on top of their game, or knowing how to work with any possible team. That was the reason Harry turned to less conventional methods of training. Nothing would be able to totally supplant conventional training, which honed both teamwork and reflexes, but virtual reality seemed perfect to try new strategies before applying them in real life.

The reactions to the new training method had ranged from Dokkaebi and Mute’s interest, to Thatcher’s expected scorn and suspicion. Most seemed to be vaguely curious about what it would entail, and for the sake of fairness, the teams and order of participation would be randomly selected. Harry was sure this would be the perfect tool to keep Rainbow on top of its game, he couldn’t wait to see how the test run went.

Sitting next to the IT specialist who would handle the connection, Harry greeted the first operators with a relaxed smile. He regarded the attackers; overall it wasn’t a bad group despite having been picked at random. However, there was one crucial matter he needed to ask.

“Where is the fifth member of the team?”

“It was Thatcher,” Glaz answered.

That was explanation enough, but Hibana felt the need to add something. “He said he would not be a lab rat for this ‘fookin Matrix shit’, sir.”

Hibana’s impression of the older operator was spot on, and Harry saw the rest of the team trying to not laugh. Oh well, expecting any different would have been a folly. A team of four wasn’t the end of the world, not when the selected training program was such that they could probably do it even if they were going one by one, alone.

It was time for the first run of the virtual reality program, to test how well the attacking and defending simulations worked.

ATTACKING TEAM

At first there was only darkness, and a strange and dizzying feeling like someone had dipped his brain in molasses. Fuze wondered if this was a hangover simulator or if it was possible to puke when your reality wasn’t even, well, real.

The world became clearer around him with startling celerity, and he found himself in front of a building, the smell of water clinging to the air while thunder cracked ominously over their heads. He had to admit the simulation was quite convincing.

“Hostage located, attackers prepared for extraction,” a disembodied voice told them.

They all nodded at each other, ready to go. Except for Maverick. The American seemed to be rooted on the spot, unresponsive. Being the one closest to him, Fuze waved a hand in front of his face. No reaction. It was creepy, like staring at a mannequin.

“Movin’ out,” Maverick said, turning around to face the docks behind them. He proceeded to stand in place as if he was imitating a statue.

“Something is wrong with him,” Glaz helpfully stated. Hibana snorted and Fuze rolled his eyes behind his helmet. He could see that by himself, thank you very much.

“I’m giving standby a new meaning,” Maverick turned around once more and chuckled apologetically at the end.

He was clearly aware he was acting with delay, almost as if he was lagging. Could that be the answer? Perhaps the program needed to be calibrated better, and after all this was the first time tying it, so Fuze would say yes, Maverick was lagging.

“Stay together and follow my lead.” Right after saying so, Hibana dashed away towards the building.

Fuze looked at their still unmoving teammate and then to Glaz, who shrugged at him, and sprinted after Hibana before Fuze could say anything. Damn them, he didn’t want to act as a babysitter! Maybe leaving Maverick out here wasn’t so bad? This wasn’t real, death was not permanent here. However, the decision was taken for him when Maverick suddenly moved.

Following the American seemed his best choice, and if things went south, he could use Maverick as an unmoving shield of sorts. Not the most noble notion, but if he froze again, Fuze at least would find a way to use it in his favour. They reached a barricaded entrance, and he saw how Maverick insisted on breaking it. Hit by agonizingly slow hit. It was a miracle nobody shot him in the long pauses between his movements. Then, instead of entering the building, Maverick remained planted there, in front of the entrance and without cover. Damn it, not again!

A well known sound startled him, a heavy breathing that all operators hated. It made sense that the White Mask bombers had been included in the simulation, but Fuze wasn’t happy about it. Seeing the blue light get closer and closer to the still frozen Maverick, he acted by instinct and swept in to kill the bomber. It was a close call; the suit beeping menacingly before it dropped dead right in front of Maverick. And just as Fuze thought they were on the clear, a second bomber came rushing down the hall. He killed it too, taking a bullet in the process, and Maverick better appreciate his sacrifice or Fuze would personally kill him next time.

After that, the American unfroze, shooting at thin air and moving choppily forward. Everything went well for about a minute, Fuze killing the two hostiles they encountered while Maverick shot at them once they were already dead, and thus hitting nothing at all. Then he stopped again. Knowing it might take him a while to get unstuck, Fuze went to put one of his cluster charges in a nearby barricaded door. He could see the surrounding walls were reinforced, so it was safe to say there was someone inside that room. Just as the cluster charged was primed and ready to go, Maverick appeared behind him and hit him in a delayed attempt to break the barricade. The bastard hit so hard that it knocked Fuze down. The ruckus alerted the hostiles in the other side of the barricade who then shot through it, destroying his precious cluster charge and hitting Fuze as well. Everything went dark, and he was pretty sure he just died.

When he opened his eyes again, he was back on the real world, Harry praising him for his cooperative spirit as the technician disconnected him from the simulation. Fuze glared both at Harry and at the seemingly unconscious Maverick next to him. If looks could kill, they all would drop dead. Next time something like this happened he would do like Glaz and run like hell, let someone else be stuck babysitting the team’s glitchy member. Worst of all was that he had died but Maverick was still alive apparently, talk about unfair. He would make the American’s life hell next time they met at the gym.

DEFENDING TEAM

Having heard from Glaz and Fuze about their experience, the simulated environment didn’t surprise Kapkan that much. Although it was quite the whiplash to go from being on a room at the base, and next second everything was dark and a completely different room just appeared around you.

“Secure the room, protect the hostage,” the disembodied voice instructed.

Of all his teammates, only Doc was taking measure to secure the room, reinforcing a wall. Smoke was gleefully shooting holes into another wall with his shotgun,  Caveira was nowhere to be seen, and Bandit was staring around the room.

“I wonder how realistic this is,” the German pondered aloud. “Any volunteers to see how friendly fire works?”

“Sure, catch this!”

A cloud of yellow gas followed Smoke’s cheerful warning, engulfing them and making them cough despite their lack of actual lungs. The simulation was apparently that realistic. Doc was screaming something between coughing fits, then everything went black.

“Mission failed, the hostage was lost.”

It was as if someone rewinded time, and they found themselves in the same situation from before, just as the announcer stated they needed to protect the hostage. Kapkan frowned, unsure about how he felt about this whole virtual reality thing and dying. It was disorienting.

“Ooh, that was fun” Smoke laughed, but he was the only one amused by their situation. “I’m pretty sure there’s more havoc to wreak.”

Shooting the hostage with the shotgun didn’t instantly kill him, but only because Doc used one of his stims on the hostage. Then he shot Smoke, but with his normal revolver. It was surprising to see Doc kill a teammate, but in this case it was not undeserved to be honest.

“Nobody else has to end up hurt if you all do your jobs,” Doc announced, earning a surprised look from both Caveira and Bandit. Kapkan on his part couldn’t care less, and he started to lay down his traps.

“You realize that’s just a bunch of pixels, right?” Bandit pointed at the hostage, “Just as we are right now.”

Kapkan was too busy fixing one of his EDDs to the door’s frame to pay attention to what Doc replied, the sound of his drill drowning everything else. Whatever he said, it was enough to get Bandit reinforcing the walls of the room. Once again Caveira had disappeared, and Kapkan decided that while not as stealthy as she was, he would also roam and see where the hostiles were coming from.

The corridor outside the room was longer than Kapkan imagined, and soon he realized they were supposed to be in some sort of plane, even if it was nothing like any other plane he’d been in. Going around the corner, he came face to face with a group of White Masks. Kapkan took a second to admire how real they looked, before opening fire on them. In the narrow corridor, there weren’t many places to take cover, and he got hit a couple of times before he killed them all. Fortunately, all he felt was a light tingling sensation at the supposed loss of health. It was reassuring to know whoever coded this simulation wasn’t sadistic enough to implement the pain associated to bullet wounds in real life.

A second wave would come soon, and Kapkan barricaded a possible entrance, setting one of his traps on another. This way he would know if they came in from any of these points. He went back to the objective room, to check how his teammates were doing, and hopefully to receive a stim shot from Doc. No such luck, Doc said Kapkan was well enough to keep fighting and that he was saving the stims for emergencies. It made sense, Kapkan supposed, but he wasn’t happy with it.

Deciding to take a more proactive role, he stepped out of the plane to see if he could spot the hostiles. The disembodied voice cautioned him to get back inside before he would die, accompanied by a fucking annoying effect that tinged everything red. What kind of bullshit was this? However, before he could turn around and get back in, someone barricaded the entrance, wooden planks sealing the door and his fate, most probably. Cursing up a storm, he broke the barricade and got inside the plane just as the red effect got stronger. He had just narrowly dodged death, he was sure. And of course, Bandit was the culprit, laughing like a hyena until Kapkan smacked the back of his head for it. It wasn’t as satisfying as it should have been, since he knew Bandit wouldn’t feel the true force of his hit.

Now that revenge was taken care of, Kapkan hid behind the nearest corner and lay in wait. When the hostiles came through the main entrance, he caught them unaware. So easy it was almost disappointing. He reloaded his weapon while waiting for the next wave of enemies, not wanting to move from this spot yet. Although he used the last of his traps on the main door. Just as he imagined, the first enemy blew himself with the trap. However, he hadn’t expected someone to drop from a hatch right above him. Fuck, he didn’t even know that thing was there!

They caught him in the crossfire and he promptly went down, unable to move and with his vision getting darker. Now would be the perfect moment for Doc to use his stim shots, Kapkan hoped the Frenchman could reach him soon, before he died from a very preventable mistake that would destroy his reputation as a hunter. He heard gunshots near him and then Bandit and Doc came into his field of vision.

Doc’s voice floated down to him, “I’ve got you, you’ll be alright.”

Any relief he might have felt was replaced by confusion when he heard a loud gunshot, then darkness. Kapkan woke up in real life and was greeted by Smoke.

“Doc is out of control, mate, I tell you.” The British defender said while looking at a screen. Kapkan got closer and saw Bandit in the simulation asking Doc why he had put Kapkan out of his misery instead of helping him. Doc claimed it had been a mistake, but Kapkan wasn’t sure if he believed him. “I hope they end soon, watching gets boring. Except when you died, that was entertaining!”

He wondered if he could get away with whacking Smoke upside the head, but Harry was observing them, no doubt taking notes on their behaviour as he always did. What a buzzkill. Kapkan instead gave Smoke a smile full of teeth, and started to plot his revenge for the next round. If the game was now team killing, he would excel at it.

#rainbow 6 siege #r6s #rainbow six siege #fanfiction #bot of these are based on things that happened to me when playing #not pictured: the time I was playing rescue hostage and there was no fucking hostage anywhere on the map 😂

[centralsaints]

SINCE I’M ON A ROLL POSTING TONIGHT,,, i was looking through my google docs files in my desperate attempt to yet reinvent myself and yknow, find a purpose through my existential crisis of knowing who i am and all that stuff.........

anyway i decided to post, in the messiest way possible, some never posted mcl writings, most with my ocs bc yknow. still love em fucked up kids. warning for some mentions of suicide and ed and slight nsfw

i’m actually kind of nervous posting this? lmao

Kentin had asked Armin about Emmanuel and Alexy, and this boy was all but a hurricane with a smirk and freckles. He still couldn't deny that he was attractive, and that his chaotic personality gave him a certain air. And Kentin couldn't deny by now that he was very, very attracted to his friend’s ex. What he didn't know was that this was exactly what Emmanuel wanted and that he was only doing everything he did out of pure spite.

So when he came face to face with the boy and the air around them seemed to be suffocating him, Kentin could only look into his earthy green eyes and lick his lips as subtle as he could be, and Emmanuel had this spark in his eyes that only invited him in and his smirk that only spoke trouble.

“What? Cat got your tongue?” He asked playfully, as if he knew full well what was going to happen.

“No, you did,” Kentin answered, his breath raspy and his voice quiet, before wrapping his arms around Emmanuel and kissing him with a force and a need he didn't know he even had.

He thought he’d heard thunder rolling far away. The sky had been storming that night.

-

“You shouldn’t trust me Alex,” he once whispered at the corner of his mouth, at sixteen years old. “I’m a hurricane. Apparently.” Alexy laughed, and thought it just sounded edgy to hear Emmanuel say such a thing. But when he kissed him he couldn’t help but think what if.

-

When Manu learns why Alexy didn’t talk to him for a year after they moved, he can’t say a word. He should have known. He should have seen it coming  He should have been able to help. He shouldn’t have gotten pushed away.

But instead of telling all of this, he shuts down. He shuts down and curl into a ball, and he feels Alexy laying his head on his shoulder. He can’t cry.

“I knew it,” he whispers. “I fucking knew it.”

Suicide is not an easy thing to say.

-

“Is it okay?”

“Just a bit hotter.”

Emmanuel adjusted the water temperature. Their shower was way too small for the both of them, but since it made Emmanuel happy, Alexy gladly indulge. He looked at his boyfriend, who wet his hair and slicked it out of his face, letting the water run over his many freckles. He couldn’t help but think that Manu was indeed what Charlie often called him, a pretty boy. Alexy had already done the same and reached for his shampoo when a hand on his hips halted him to a stop. Emmanuel was smiling at him, slightly biting his lip.

“Can I wash your hair?”

A smile made its way to the corner of his lips, as he gave the bottle to the boy. Soon a smell or mint and citrus filled Alexy’s nose, as he closed his eyes and let Manu’s hand massage his scalp. He relaxed, letting his shoulders slump and his breath deepen. Manu was good with his hands, even if he didn’t know it, he was just gentle enough to calm Alexy. The hands were gone too soon, when a quiet but cheerful voice brought him back to reality.

“Look,” said Emmanuel, showing his hands full of blueish foam. “The foam is blue!”

Alexy laughed and grabbed his boyfriend’s hands, kissing him lightly. Their kiss soon grew deeper and his hands made their way to Manu’s lower back, pulling him closer, bringing their hips flush together. The heat of the water combined with the heat of their body only made it more intimate, and made them want to get ever closer to each other. One of Emmanuel’s hand snaked in between them, jerking them off lazily, the other hanging around his neck.

It’s when Manu made a step back, to get more space between them so he could hold their cocks more easily, but still tried to keep kissing Alexy, that he slipped. Losing his balance, he held himself to the nearest thing, that being Alexy himself, who instinctively closed his arms around him to keep him falling on the shower floor. Emmanuel soon felt Alexy shaking, and realised he was laughing when he finally heard the high pitched sound in the closeness of their embrace. He straightened himself up, Alexy holding his hands tight, his laughter soon subduing into tired, but amused sigh. He gave him a light kiss before letting go of his hands, finishing to rinse off the shampoo, as the water ran blue from his freshly dyed hair. Manu bit his lips again.

“I’m sorry,” he pouted, resigned to not getting to get an orgasm that night because he was just that clumsy.

Alexy finished rinsing the foam with a smile, then caressed the lip he had been biting with his thumb, as Manu looked at him with hungry eyes. He turned off the water and got out of the shower, getting them both towels.

“Don’t worry,” he said, leaning in for a kiss. “We’re going to finish this somewhere you won’t risk falling and dying on my watch.”

-

Manu knew of Armin’s disordered eating issues. He knew, he’d seen him at his worst while he and Alexy were dating in high school.

So when he comes across Alexy sitting in a staircase, his headset glued on his ears, his head resting on the wall beside him and his eyes closed, he knew something was wrong. He had traces of tears on his cheeks. He said his name once. Twice. The third time, Alexy opened his eyes, instantly dropping his head back on the wall.

“Oh no, not you,” he said, wiping his eyes from the tears.

“Alex…”

“No, I don’t want to talk, fuck off somewhere else.”

“Something is wrong right?”

“No.”

Manu sits down in the stairs beside Alexy, that’s when he notices the shake in the boy’s hands. Something is definitely wrong.

“Alexy, I know there’s something and I know I… Might not be the one you want to see right now but you really don’t look well.”

Alexy pressed his palms to his eyes, breathing deep, his voice coming out strangled by tears. “Fuck.”

Manu didn’t say anything, waiting for Alexy to speak first. He was visibly shaking. “Alex… Is it Armin?...” When he thought about it, he hadn’t seen the other twin that day at school.

Alexy wrapped his arms around himself. “Yeah. He’s… We had a huge fight yesterday, about… About his health. My parents had to step in and in the end we were all fighting.” Alexy closed his eyes, tears rolling once again on his cheeks. His right hand was balled into a fist, his knuckles white. Following his instinct, Emmanuel reached out and took his hand into his own, stroking it with his thumb in a circular motion. To his surprise, Alexy rested his head onto his shoulder.

“Armin, he’s… He’s gotten worse, he has to go back in inpatient at the clinic. I just… I don’t know how to help him anymore.”

For some reason, Manu wasn’t surprised.

#long post #mcl #my candy love #mcl oc #mcl alexy #mcl writing #my writing #fanfiction #oc #some of these are old or were just meant as drabbles or smth #i realised most of these are sad #manu cant be happy lmao