#as always men should kiss actually this would probably solve most of their problems

[krowscrawl]

gilded kiss

[victimsofyaoipoll]

Round 1

Propaganda under the cut

Alana Bloom

she kissed will graham in s1 and dated hannibal in s2 so you can imagine how bad the fandom is to her. fun fact she's in a canon lesbian relationship now tho <3

The show literally does the yaoi treatment of victimisation for the benefit of the male leads to her. And then the fandom mistreats her

I'm not sure if this even counts but...Literally a victim of Yaoi along with several other characters in-series, but she got it almost the worst. The entire show is just people dying because the two male leads are OBSESSED with each other and can't be normal about anything. Alana Bloom, actual PhD of psychology and consultant to the FBI, got kissed by one guy, fucked and fed people-meant by the other, and pushed out a window by the murder husbands' forced-surrogate daughter. Like. Actual victim of several crimes caused by yaoi. She's probably one of the few examples of a Yaoi Victim overcoming and evolving past her yaoi-related trauma into a stronger person/character, though: She gets an entire character overhaul and a hot, millionairess for a wife. She kills a man with an eel. She becomes head of the BSHCI, effectively putting her in complete power over her jackass cannibal ex-bf. She does quite well. Unfortunately, the rest of her screen time is spent trying not to get killed in the ongoing fallout of Hannibal and Will's fucked up courtship, but hey. Can't have everything. I don't even know if I'm saying anything valid here: the fandom loves her, but I supposed her position outside of the Hannigram relationship relegates her to a non-subject in a lot of Hannigram-focused fanwork. She's an 'obstacle' to their relationship only in the sense that Will had a crush on her once that went nowhere and Hannibal started an actual relationship with her SPECIFICALLY to piss off Will. I guess she's also a more literal obstacle as Hannibal's jailer and Will's friend who's constantly pointing out to him that Morals exist and he should try having some of those, maybe

Maya Fey

OKAY SO She's definitely NOT the love interest coz she's like 16 n he's 24 or smth but in literally all fandom she's just... the wingwoman. that's all. EVEN WHEN SHE'S IN A LESBIAN RELATIONSHIP IT'S IN THE BACKGROUND N SHE'S SUPPORTING THE YAOI GROWN ASS MEN..... it's horrible... detestable... she's a main character... she has ARCS..... and yet.. her own most popular ship tag is just.. her n her gf as background yuri who are supporting and wingwomaning the fucking main guys. it's a tragedy. Maya Fey would make Phoenix Wright buy her burgers everytime he made her listen to his love problems and then she'd tell him that every complaint he makes will cost another burger. SHE WOULD NEVER BE SUPPORTING YURI.. 

Phoenix’s best friend and partner in solving crimes. She often gets shunted aside by the fandom, reduced to Phoenix/Edgeworth cheerleader and matchmaker. 

okay i wouldnt say shes exactly mistreated, shes pretty well liked in the fandom, HOWEVER shes always seen as like an accessory to wrightworth, her only role being to make jokes about how in love they are etc. i feel like a lot of people ignore her depth and backstory to just use her as a tool in wrightworth stories. she plays a very important role in the games as well and has been through a lot, and has always been helpful to wright, so she deserves to be more than the setup to a joke about wrightworth

[vvienne]

XICHENG FIC RECS

hold my hands by Snooze (Chiruka)

Transplanting a core into a new person isn’t without repercussions. One year after the events at Guanyin Temple, Jiang Cheng found himself once again faced with the possibility of losing everything he had. Reconciling with his brother, learning to let Jin Ling go, and dealing with his blooming emotions toward the First Jade of Gusu — will Jiang Cheng accomplish what he wants before time runs out?

it all passes someday by screamlet

A week before the anniversary of Wei Wuxian’s death, there was a commotion outside Lan Wangji’s house.

*

Jiang Cheng and Lan Wangji over the years.

The Unlikely Expression of Love by manamune

When everything has settled, when everyone else has moved on with their lives and their friends, Jiang Cheng has a realization which shouldn’t actually be a surprise:

He’s lonely.

Indigo, lavender, and violet (I don't wanna be red) by ohwhatevrewhatevr

It, in the pale colors of the late morning, is the closest to perfect Jiang Cheng will ever reach. He strokes Lan XiChen's hair and presses a light kiss to where his ribbon and hair meet. The sky is a pale blue, and the pastels of flowers and clouds are spread out through the window, a brilliant world waiting for them, them in the gentian house, safe from stronger breezes - there is the clutter of birds fluttering and chirping outside. It is a warm, perfect, spring morning.

Jiang Cheng and Lan XiChen have been together for an year. In which, no one ever really gets over things, Jiang Cheng has the misfortune of interacting with his brother, the juniors help out with the proposal, and there's a marriage.

Altitude by starknjarvis 

When Jin Ling lures Jiang Cheng to the Cloud Recesses under false pretenses, he finds himself out of place among this new family Wei Wuxian has formed.

Lan Xichen, at least, seems pleased to have his company.

Perhaps there is still a chance for Jiang Cheng to make amends and move forward.

[Modao Zushi Online] GLITCH REPORT: My Brother Got Chased Down And %$@*$&@ By Gusu Dungeon Boss??? by oh_fudgecakes

Modao Zushi Online is a virtual reality MMORPG. Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian are top ranking players in its new server, currently tied with their arch-nemesis from their previous server, Wen Chao. In an attempt to defeat him, they take on the Gusu Dungeon Boss, Zewu-jun, to win the reward of a legendary weapon. Ever the cheat, Wei Wuxian tries to take advantage of a glitch to defeat the seemingly undefeatable boss. It backfires. Jiang Cheng gets fucked by a boss monster.

He can't get enough.

Meanwhile, Lan Xichen, the unwitting staff member in charge of controlling Zewu-jun, absolutely did not sign up to be pulled into a secret virtual reality fling with a player. Mod Ji, who has to deal with Wei Wuxian's incessant glitch reporting of his brother's sex life, is long-suffering.

Mulberry by xxdz

Jiang Cheng grits his teeth and pushes harder. He feels like torn silk, the embroidery needle sinking in again and again and again; patiently, desperately, endlessly trying to make something beautiful out of something broken.

Jiang Cheng builds his sect, learns embroidery, and raises his nephew.

we can raise a little family by lanyon

“Well, brother,” says Wei Wuxian, leaning against the outside of Jiang Cheng’s chambers. “I had heard that you and Xichen went on a night hunt and came back with a baby, which is not the order I’d choose to do things in…”

In which Jiang Cheng and Lan Xichen acquire a baby of unknown origin, and are the very last to know what it means.

Beyond the Impossible by Silverine

Summoned by Lan Qiren, Jiang Wanyin goes to the Cloud Recesses to drop his nephew Jin Ling, expecting to discuss relevant matters with his old master. Instead, he's asked to take with him no other than Sect Leader Lan himself, all the way back to Lotus Pier. If the reason why he accepted such an outrageous task is indeed a mystery, he's about to be surprised by how this entire trip, their encounters, and his warm company, suddenly feel fated.

Incrementally by xxdz

Jiang Cheng is trapped in a day on repeat where he begins by waking in Zewu Jun’s bed at dawn and ends by dying painfully at dusk.

It’s getting very irritating, and he has the sneaking suspicion that his chances to solve his own murder are rapidly running out. Soon, his death will be much more permanent.

All in all, worst birthday ever.

Audience of One by WinterDreams

“Then let an established star go first,” Lan Xichen interrupts again before Lan Wangji can give a stubborn reply. Both men twist toward Lan Xichen, and he smiles at Wei Wuxian’s tilted head. “If I publicly date a man for awhile first, your engagement shouldn’t receive as much backlash.”

Or, that AU where everyone is famous in some way or another, Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji have been dating in private for years, and Lan Xichen and Jiang Cheng pretend to date publicly for their brothers' sake.

A Bit of Ruthlessness by jirluvien

When Jiang Cheng hears that Lan Xichen went into seclusion following Jin Guangyao’s death, it’s almost as if he can see the grabby hands of a restless ghost, reaching out for something to keep him company. For something warm and living and devastated. And as history has proved time and time again, the Lans are perfect victims when it comes to giving in to ghosts.Yeah, no. Not on Jiang Cheng’s fucking watch.A story about grief, determination, unexpected friendships, abandoned watchtowers, and letters. So many letters.

All Tied Up In You by Clearpearls

Yet again, the night had come to this:

Jiang Cheng on the floor, kneeling, Zidian wrapped around his wrists.

Alone.

Thank You, and I'm Sorry by Hamliet

Jin GuangYao might be dead, but his story is not. Taking advantage of the chaos he instigated, someone makes an attempt on the life of the young new leader of the Jin Sect. When Jiang Cheng takes Jin Ling to the Cloud Recesses to have him study while he attempts to work with Wei WuXian and his husband Lan WangJi to eliminate the threat, he encounters a mourning Lan XiChen, lovestruck teenagers, and a persistent corpse--and both pairs of brothers find themselves struggling to move on.

saturn's rings (don't be a heartbreaker) by iskendaris

Set after the seige of burial mounds, Yunmeng rebuilds as they hold the first Discussion Conference at Lotus Pier. Sometimes the night is a gift, a refuge for loneliness. "So stern, Sect Leader Jiang," Lan Xichen murmured, "So glacial... What will it take to melt that icy exterior? What can I say?"

"Nothing. There's nothing you can say or offer."

reciprocity by jukeboxhound

There’s a pause before Lan Xichen says, in a tone that’s a little more neutral, “I would like to paint on you.”

“…What?”

“Of course, if you say ‘yes’ but then change your mind at any point, for any reason, you need only say so and I will stop immediately,” he adds.

Well, silver lining: Jiang Cheng is feeling much more awake than he was a moment ago.

Talent Hunt Crew Finds Angry Guy Shouting On College Campus, Recruits Him For Vocal Projection Abilities by oh_fudgecakes

Jiang Cheng, resident Angry Guy and heir to a conglomerate empire, has never been the apple of his father’s eye. Quashed under the shadow of his brilliant brother, the music prodigy Wei Wuxian, Jiang Cheng sees his chance to turn things around when he is recruited by the All-Stars Lan Talent Hunt. One problem: he can’t sing to save his goddamn life.

As he struggles to develop his nascent singing abilities, Jiang Cheng finds himself sucked into the whirlwind drama of reality TV, helped along by his adoring siblings, his irritable vocal coach Wen Qing, and strangely enough, the unfairly attractive host of the All-Stars Lan Talent Hunt, Lan Xichen. Somewhere in the glare of the stage lights and an unexpected first love, Jiang Cheng stumbles upon the thing he was searching for all along: the courage to dream — and to attempt the impossible.

Marginal Costs by ohwhatevrewhatevr

“You think you know what you want, Er-Ge,” A-Yao says. “But you should consider what you’re willing to give first,” he says wryly, taking Lan XiChen’s chess piece with slim, skilled fingers.

Lan XiChen looks up at A-Yao’s concentrated expression and the hint of contentment on his face that he is special enough to be allowed to see.

“It’s not just one decision, but the lead up to many more. One decision decides what else you’re going to have to pay, and each time you have to ask yourself, ignoring the sunk costs, if this time it’s worth it as well.”

When his sworn brother looks up at him with those clear, amber eyes, waiting, Lan XiChen feels the pull and gives in: he asks.

“Are you happy being in love?”

(First half is two sad sworn brothers talking, internally mourning how unfortunate their other sworn brother’s death was :/ and second half is when a mopey boy in blue meets an angsty boy in purple whilst chasing a demonic cultivator, and a lil bit of sexy dual cultivation happens.)

Somewhat Tender by theherocomplex

There is no defense against kindness; it has always undone him.

I didn't expect you to be lonely (too) by bettydice (BettyKnight)

Jiang Cheng's life is a mess, he's a mess, and he doesn't miss his brother at all. So when his sister gifts him ten sessions with a massage therapist, who turns out to be someone he was crushing on for a hot minute as a teenager and is still as hot as ever... yeah, that might as well happen. It won't have to mean anything.

This feels intimate to Jiang Cheng in a way that's probably very inappropriate and maybe even pathetic. Nobody touches him like this, right where he’s hurt the most. There's no one who handles him so gently, so carefully.

It's the gentleness that's his undoing, he thinks. He would be able to deal better with it if it was painful.

Life for Rent by yodasyoyo

“Yeah well. You’re not taking me seriously. This guy is my soulmate!”

“Soulmate.” Jiang Cheng rolls his eyes. “Whatever.”

“Just because you don’t believe in them—”

“I believe in them!” Jiang Cheng says. “I’ve never denied they exist.”

“Just last week you said that it was an evolutionary quirk that had been used by greetings card companies, movie makers, and corporations to exploit lonely and vulnerable people.”

“And I stand by it! That doesn’t mean that soulmates aren’t real. Just incredibly unlikely and probably pointless.

-

Or:

Xicheng vs Soulmates. Fight!

Halfway Around the World by theherocomplex

Normally, Jiang Cheng would be seething, jaw clenched tight, if someone sounded like that while they were talking, but — Lan Xichen has the trick of always making you feel like you're in on the joke, whatever the joke is. That you're laughing together.

Whelmed by yodasyoyo

For months now Jiang Cheng’s been idly fantasizing about how it would be if something were to come between Wei Ying and Lan Zhan. Mostly those daydreams have been simple enough — they break up (probably because Lan Zhan is boring or Wei Ying is annoying), Wei Ying is sad for a couple of days (Jiang Cheng’s willing to allow some space for feelings, he isn't a total monster), but then Wei Ying realizes he’s better off, he gets over it, and Jiang Cheng gets his brother back.

Unfortunately the fantasy version of events has only proven partially true, so far. They've broken up. Wei Ying has been sad.

Now weeks have passed, though — and Wei Ying is still sad, every. Single. Day.

It’s like Jiang Cheng's stuck in a looping GIF, and it’s driving him insane.

Or:

Jiang Cheng plots, Lan Huan pines, and, unfortunately for Lan Qiren, Wangxian are inevitable.

[not-using-this1]

Helping Bela dye her hair

I made a (crappy) Bela Dimitrescu oneshot because she’s bae and I’m in love with her :) 

I had this headcanon that because Bela, Cassandra & Daniela obviously all had brunette hair in the picture of the castle demo they’ve dyed it (or something else happened but oh well) since then.

Bela got sick of having the same hair colour as her sister Cassandra (brunette) she wanted her own style...to which she asks you (her girlfriend) to help her with along with Daniela to dye hers ginger...with a mix of blood in it.

Yes I made it so Bela and Daniela could go out in the daylight (I prentended those jewels on their chokers protect them lmao)

Pairings: Bela Dimitrescu x fem!reader 

You welcomed yourself into castle Dimitrescu as usual and wuld of hoped that your girlfriend Bela would be there in the main hall sat on the sofa waiting. But, she wasn't which made you think she was either going to jump out at you for fun. "Bela I know you're hiding." You shout as it echoes through the main hall.

You hear a laugh, and just like that she appears in front of you. You expected blood to be around her mouth from feeding (since shes a vampire) she wasn't even wearing her usual outfit, rather she was wearing a corset top and black jeans but with her usual choker with the red jewel placed inside it. "What? You didn't think I'd clean up for my own girlfriend?" Bela chuckles.

"No, it's not that it just looks like your going somehwere" you add. She gives you a small smirk and presses a kiss to your lips "I want to dye my hair blonde, so I thought I'd go out to get some".

You weren't surprised she wanted to change her hair but blonde? You thought she would go for something darker "and where would you get it in the village? If you asked me I would've happily gone to buy you some from the store in the town I go to" you replied.

Bela shrugged her shoulders at you "Well I just made the decision now, do you think we could drive there? I know it's daylight but I'm not exactly gonna burn, the jewel in my choker doesn't allow that" You nodded your head at your girlfriend and agreed.

"Yes! Okay lets go!" She seemed so enthusiastic and to be honest those moments of her like that are rare; Bela had always struggled with her emotions to the point people think she hasn't gotten any...but you know that isn't true.

The good thing was that it wasn't morning or even the afternoon, it was rather that the sun was setting and besides the store would be open still anyway. Bela had grabbed your hand, pulling you to the large castle doors.

"Hi Y/n, Bela where are you going?" Daniela popped up out of nowhere which made you jump slightly. She chuckled at your small action as se confronted you and her sister. When you first met Daniela she was closed off anf very quiet half the time but now, the two of you actually get along very well. "I want to dye my hair blonde, y/n is taking me to the store to get some dye" Bela explained, she just wanted to hurry up and go.

"Oh cool! Can I come? I've wanted to dye my hair red...but with a twist. If you guys get me blonde hair dye and I mix it with blood-"

Bela and you laughed at her but Daniela seemed very serious "Why don't you just buy red dye? Problem solved Whats with the blood being added?" You asked her. "Uhh because it's more fun that way?" She shrugged her shoulders.

Honestly, you stopped questioning Daniela a while ago. You looked at Bela as if to ask for approval to bring Daniela. She rolled her eyes at you and sighed "Ugh fine you can come".

~~~

During the car ride, you had played some music which Daniela and Bela kept belting out. You honestly loved that they were just so normal in these situations even if they're not normal whatsoever.

You were just happy you could show Bela what its like to have fun outside of the other...activities she does (aka being a vampire). As you stopped the car in the store, Daniela wasted no time in getting out of the car to go into the store so much that you and Bela had to stop her.

"Dani, stay here and look after the car. We'll be back and maybe get you a treat" Bela adds to which Daniela sighs and stomps her foot a little before getting back in the back seat "More blood?" she cheekily questions.

"No, Dani. We'll be back soon." You add.

For the most part the reason you left her in the car was because she was wearing what she usually does. Of course you wouldn't mind her walking around with the both of you if only she didn't have blood stains on it.

Bela offered you her hand and the two of you just walked hand in hand to the store. Going over to the part of the store that has beauty and hair products. Bela looked quite overwhelmed that and the fact she had never really been out of her village much at all or to a large store like this. Of course she knew of these things though, she knew what every item was...shes been alive for centuries and has adapted well to changes.

"There's the blonde you'd probably look best in" you pointed her into the direction of dirty but light blonde box dye, she already had a platinum blonde one in her hand but she grabbed the other and put them beside her.

"Which one babe?" she asked you, as if you were some sort of expert on these things. Yeah, you've dyed your hair many times it's currently h/c (your hair colour) which you loved. "Since you have a pale complection I'd go for the light dirty blonde, you'd look so hot" those last words slipped out of you but Bela smirked. Putting back te platinum blonde dye "Daniela can have the same then" she adds.

As you were walking to another aisle as you wanted something for yourself, Bela had grabbed your hand because this guy kept ogling you just because you were wearing a skirt, fishnet tights and a casual t-shirt.

Of course your girlfriend was going to get possessive, she had practically pulled you into her and kissed you in front of everyone who was down that aisle...but you didn't mind one bit and kissed her back.

"He was eyeing you up and down, ugh men disgust me." Bela replies. You wanted to make a joke about her saying that even though she was bisexual but you left it and agreed. After paying for everything you both headed back to the car which all you could hear was rock music from.

"Oh god whats she doing" you laugh.

"Daniela! Daniela!" Bela shouts as the two of you get back in your car, you turn the music down and Daniela gives you an unamused look.

~~~

After a small argument between Bela and her sister Daniela about whose bathroom they'd do it in you settled the argument by saying that they should just use the bathroom down in the main hall. Daniela had collected the blood and mixed it in with the blonde and it turned an actual nice red, so you decided to help her first.

"Daniela, you need to stay still, it'll go everywhere if you don't" you explained. "The blood is already everywhere on the damn floor mother is going to kill us. Not to mention my girlfriend clearly likes spending time with my sisters more than me" Bela pouted, you rolled your eyes at her and plafully punched her arm a little "you get me all to yourself tonight, now help."

During this entire commotion Cassandra had came back up from the cellar and decided to help you, while you helped Bela with her dye Cassandra washed off Daniela's in the tub with the shower after it set for a good hour.

When everything was finally done both Bela and Daniela had new hair but the bathroom...oh that was an absolute tip. You were sure one of the maids would come clean it up...but then.

"Girls I'm home." Alcina shouts as she walks through the doors, she spots you and igves you a small smile "hello Y/n" she greets.

"mother" all three girls say from the bathroom she walks over to them with the biggest shock on her face "Bela, Daniela what did you do?" she didn't sound very pleased.

"We dyed our hair, Y/n took us to a store, so it was really her-" Bela slapped her sisters arm really hard to cut her off from her sentence "it wasn't Y/n's fault mother" She then finishes.

Alcina sighs "no it wasn't Y/n's fault but you are all going to clean this up right now."

"But mother the maids-"

"Now! You too Cassandra, also Y/n" she adds before leaving to her room.

"Great, fantastic" you all say in unison.

Help this was terrible, why did I write this ughhh :(

[forzalando]

The Perfect Arrangement | George Weasley | Pt. 1

Pairing: George Weasley x F!Reader AU: Bridgerton!AU Word Count: 2.1k Warnings: Bridgerton spoilers, mentions of alcohol

Summary: As a woman in the early 19th century, you’ve been told all your life that marriage should be your ultimate goal, however, you do not share that sentiment. When the insufferable George Weasley devises a plan that may solve your problems, how can you say no?

A/N: hi friends! this will be a multipart (probably 3-4 parts) George fic inspired by Bridgerton. i’m so excited for it and i hope you all are too :) thank you for reading!

The start of the social season had been, as you had expected, the topic of conversation around the ton for the past few weeks. It was impossible to go anywhere without hearing whispers of who would snag an engagement in the next few months.

Particularly, people had been interested in who the Queen would declare the “diamond of the season”. Your mother was positively convinced it would be you, but you had other plans in mind for your life other than parties and dresses and loveless marriage. However, when the Queen took one look upon your face, she quickly declared you incomparable, as she had done the same for Daphne Bridgerton, now the Duchess, a few years prior, and your fate was sealed.

As a member of the distinguished and esteemed Y/L/N family, and as the eldest daughter, you had a trivial, yet necessary and important role to play, even if you longed to free yourself from it. Your mother and father, as wonderful as they might be, had high expectations for you, and you would not and could not let them down.

Your mother fluffed your hair and primped your dress in preparation of the Danbury Ball, admiring you fondly and gushing about how beautiful you looked.

“Maybe your luck will be as wonderful as the Duchess, her love match was indeed unprecedented but oh so joyous. Do you think your fortune might align with hers, dear?”

“Mama,” you sighed. “I have no interest in a life like the Duchess’s. All the parties, teas, and properness. Besides, there isn’t another Duke for me to marry.”

“I did not mean that you would have to marry a Duke to share her fate; only that you may marry for love.”

You huffed as you turned away from the mirror. In truth, you had no interest in marrying for love, or marrying at all for that matter, but the duty of an eldest daughter was set in stone.

All too soon, you arrived at the Lady Danbury’s spectacular first ball of the season; the sea of gowns and tailored coats causing a queasy feeling to settle in your stomach, and you wished with all your might that anything at all would ruin the festivities.

A glass of champagne was placed in your grasp and you let your eyes wander around the room; Lady Eloise Bridgerton, a close friend of yours, donned a similar look on her face though her mother enthusiastically tried to get her to waltz across the dance floor.

Glancing to your left, you noticed Lord Farley, a rather grotesque older man, eyeing you up and down; his beady eyes causing the queasy feeling to return and for your feet to take off in what could almost be considered a sprint.

When he was no longer in your line of sight, you began to slow down your gait, but a shoulder roughly bumped into yours and an unattractive yelp escaped your lips.

The unmistakable chuckle that followed your outburst made you groan due to your detestation of the man you knew you had bumped into.

Lord George Weasley; a man, nay, a boy, with hair of fire and a wit to match. You had known him for years as you were the same age and his sister Ginevra was the best of friends with your younger sister.

“I want to believe, Miss Y/L/N, that you would not take such drastic measures to capture my attention, but I must say I am flattered nonetheless,” George teased, his hand reaching out to steady you as you recovered from the collision.

“Mr. Weasley, I believe you to know me better than that,” you spoke with gritted teeth as you swatted his hand away. “Besides, there are plenty of young women here that would kiss the ground you walk on. Might you bother them instead?”

“Ah, but where is the fun in that? I’ve noticed that you still have room on your dance card?”

“I always have room left on my dance card.”

You tried to step around George and escape his company, but his impossible height made it so easy for him to evade your attempts.

“Is that by choice or because you’re just so pleasant to spend time with?” he inquired with a smirk.

“Suppose a bit of both. Now, if you would be so kind, I’m quite parched and would love another glass of champagne.”

“Perfect, I shall accompany you.”

George Weasley, you surmised very early on, was nothing but a flirt. You wouldn’t go so far as to call him a rake, because as far as you knew he was an honorable man, but he was also most intolerable with his boyish charm, sense of humor, beautiful eyes…

Yes, you were quite sure that he was entirely intolerable.

“Have you told your mother you have no interest in procuring a husband, yet?” he mused, breaking you out of your trance as he carefully handed you a glass of champagne.

“Don’t call it procuring as if it’s a transaction. And no, I haven’t. Do you think I’d be standing here alive if I had?”

“Good point,” George hummed as his eyes surveyed the room, no doubt searching for the next woman so unlucky enough to be graced with his presence.

“How is your family?” you asked as you sipped on your flute of bubbling liquid.

“They’re doing well, thank you for asking. Work has been a bit hard on Dad but – ”

Before George could finish, a man approached you and bowed; taking the hand not holding the champagne flute and pressing a kiss to your knuckles.

“Miss Y/L/N, would you like to join me for a dance?”

You noticed George looking on angrily at the sight before him, probably because his ego couldn’t take the interruption.

“I’m flattered, Lord Rainier? I believe?” When you received no objections, you continued. “As I was saying, I’m flattered by your offer but I simply must decline. I am feeling a bit ill and all that spinning might make me sick.”

“Yes, yes, of course, Miss Y/L/N. Perhaps another time?”

You gave him a small, soft smile and let out a sigh of relief when he walked away. Turning back to George, you urged him to continue. While you held him in contempt, or so you told yourself, you did enjoy his family as they were all simply lovely.

“You were saying, George?”

“Right, work has been a bit hard on Dad, after his accident a few months ago. He’s been doing better but Charlie had to take a break from his travels to come home and help out since he’s the eldest. Fred and Angelina are expecting again, if you haven’t heard. They’re hoping for a girl this time.”

“Maybe if you were more like your brother you’d be married and having children by now,” you teased.

He gasped and clutched his hand over his heart, drawing the attention of anyone near.

“You wound me, Y/N.”

Much to your dismay, you laughed at his actions, devastated that you gave him the satisfaction of knowing he was entertaining you. However, the moment was short lived as another man interrupted your conversation.

“Miss Y/N, I must say you are looking exquisite this evening. It would be a shame for your dress not to take a twirl on the dance floor. Might I accompany you?”

You tried not to groan when you noticed a line forming behind the man currently asking for a dance.

“Actually, Lord Beverly, I’m feeling a bit warm. I was just about to go outside for some fresh air.”

“I shall accompany you, then.”

“Without a chaperone? Goodness, no, please find another young lady to dance with. There are certainly many that would be delighted at the chance.”

You looked around Lord Beverly to see at least four other men waiting for their chance to ask you for a dance, and the thought of making up more excuses made your head spin. You graciously bid Lord Beverly a good evening, and turned on your heel towards the nearest exit.

In your haste, you did not notice George following you into the gardens.

“Well, you sure like to let them down easy,” he joked.

“George!” you cried. “We can’t be seen alone, are you daft? Trying to ruin me and my family?”

“Calm yourself, my Mother is just right there.”

You looked a bit to George’s left and saw his wonderful mother keeping a careful eye on the two of you, graciously leaving the attention of her husband to ensure that none would suspect foolery between you and George.

“As I was saying, it’s awfully obvious that you do not want any man to court you. Your mother will realize well and soon enough of your…aversion to marriage.”

“The only reason you know that is because you eavesdropped on a conversation I had with Eloise. But yes, I have no desire to marry, and I’m quite certain I never will. I’ll have to fight off suitors and think of a million excuses until I’m considered a spinster and men no longer want me.”

Silence enveloped you both as a tear slid down your cheek. You hastily wiped it away, hoping that George hadn’t seen, but of course, you were not so lucky.

“Is the idea of marriage really that upsetting to you, Y/N?”

“All those men, all they want is a woman to wear on their arm and to give them children. That’s what a woman’s life is in marriage. A husband doesn’t care about his wife’s passions, desires, intellect, among other things, and I can’t bring myself to entertain the idea of a life that has no room for my happiness.”

George was quiet; pondering your response and your feelings, when he was suddenly struck with the most brilliant of ideas.

You see, Mr. George Weasley was in love with Miss Y/N Y/L/N, has been for several years in fact. He couldn’t tell you exactly when or why, but he knew that the fluttering in his chest and the way his whole world became brighter when she entered a room meant that Y/N was more than just someone to engage in friendly banter with.

“I’ve thought of an idea,” George muttered, piquing your interest.

“Whatever might it be, Mr. Weasley?”

“Your…situation, can only go away if men were to believe you were taken, correct?”

“Yes, I suppose, only I can’t fool them into thinking that. It would become quite suspicious when I’m seen alone everywhere. And, there’s no way I could ever fool my parents.”

“Except you wouldn’t be alone, you’d have me!”

“I don’t believe I’m following your idea, George.”

“Marry me.”

You choked and sputtered on your own spit, unable to take a breath through your coughs and gasps. George’s hands flew to your shoulders to steady you, helping you to breathe easier and calm yourself down.

“George, you must be joking,” you said quietly.

“I am as deadly serious as I could ever be. Not a real marriage, of course. Real in every sense of the word in terms of legality, but not real as in, well, us together. I’ll spend this social season courting you, and at the end of the season I’ll propose. We’ll get married in a few months’ time, and then we can travel the world, doing whatever our hearts desire.”

“Why on earth would you want to marry me?”

“It’s quite simple. You need to get the eligible bachelors of the ton to leave you alone and you never want to marry because your husband would restrict your freedoms. I, as your husband, wouldn’t dare. You’re not entirely awful, I suppose there are far worse people to spend my life with, even if you utterly despise me, and marriage, real marriage, isn’t something I want either.”

You looked at him quizzically, searching for signs that he’d had far too much champagne or had gone completely mad in the head, but he looked right as rain, and your mind was spinning.

“I find it hard to believe you do not want to marry, after all the times you’ve said you cannot wait to marry the woman you love.”

“Honestly, the woman I love is….unattainable, I’ll put it that way. I won’t ever love anyone but her. I’m also waiting for an answer, it’s not every day you have to have a discussion after a proposal.”

“You’re sure this will work, Mr. Weasley?”

“How hard can it be to pretend to be in love with a woman as beautiful as you?”

“I always knew you were a flirt, but God, do you lay it on thick.”

George looked at you expectantly, almost a glimmer of hope is his eye, but as quickly as you thought you’d noticed it, he looked away.

“My answer is yes, George. Let’s fool the ton, our families, court, get married, and then travel the world platonically.”

“That sounds like the perfect arrangement, darling.”

@theweasleyslut @vivacesole @weasleyclaw @nuttytani-reblogs @theweasleysredhair @hufflepuffbaby9 @theboywhocriedlupin @swellwriting @fortisfiliae @thoseofgreatambition @woakiees @wildfire-whizbangs @gcdric

please let me know if you’d like to be added to my taglist! 

[pocketfulofrogers]

Love Me Anyways

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Summary: What is there to say? You’re a dark and twisty assassin and Steve Rogers is definitely... not that. When you get an opportunity to run, will you take it?

Notes: Tiny bit of smut and angst with a happy ending. If you feel like you’ve seen/read this before, you may have. I’m reorganizing and this was previously part 1 of Haunted Woman, Broken Lover. When I originally wrote this, it was meant to be a one off, but sad endings don’t always feel right. I then struggled to turn it into a series, so here is HWBL reimagined with a different ending as a one shot. The series will still be a thing, but now I actually feel good about it!

They call you a ghost. It isn’t for the way you seem to slip through walls or the way you look at death as a reflection. It’s the hollowness of your eyes that earns you the nickname. Hazed over orbs coated in grey.

Clint asks you if they’ve always been that color, you tell him you can’t remember anymore.

Fury lets you run your own thing after you agree to attach yourself to the badge. He’d rather not know how exactly you get the job done, so long as you’re on their side.

You’re solo most of the time, it’s better that way.

They learn quickly how deadly you are, leaving your enemies questioning the validity of your existence and holding the same vacant stare as you. It wasn’t just physical injuries you specialized in.

The first time you met Steve Rogers was an accident. You had a rogue Armenian scientist tied up in his basement. He had been about to run when you appeared at his kitchen table, and, for a moment, you thought a heart attack might get him before you could.

You were sat before him, leaned forward with your tools on a bench beside you. A small blade aching to break skin sat hot between your fingers, but so far, your words had been enough. Steve opened the door, barreled down the steps, and stopped in his tracks. You locked eyes with him and, in a flash, you saw something hauntingly familiar within the blue.

That’s when something inside you shifted.

He took one look at the scene before him and shut it down immediately. You slipped away when he called it in and left no trace of your existence except for a long thin line gushing red from the scientist’s throat.

Steve find’s the plans for a chemical attack on his desk that night and where to find each accomplice wrapped in a pretty bow of nylon. Alive, your note assures him.

“She’s like a cat. Brings home dead things to show her affection.” Clint says one day. You promptly shove an elbow in his gut.

He learns how to spot your work past blubbering grown men and catatonic stares. Natasha tells him you hold your liquor well, Clint comments on your gambling abilities. He asks if your eyes are naturally that color, they tell him you don’t like to answer that question.

Later he asks Fury how they found you. He’s not sure how you became what you are today, but he knows this world has not treated you well, yet here you are, working to protect it regardless of what had been done to you. That’s the only reason he didn’t order Clint to take you out.

“So, she’s good?” Steve asks.

Fury pauses for a moment. “For our sake, I hope so.”

The next time you see Steve Rogers, you’re slinking through the Triskelion halls trying to stick your nose somewhere it probably doesn’t belong. He bumps into you, grabs your arm and your side to steady you. You know he can feel the scars beneath the thin material of your shirt and jump from his touch.

He shakes it off. “Tell me,” He starts. “Do you have an actual name or are you really just a ghost.”

You think for a moment. “Y/N.” He raises a brow, both your voice and an answer surprising him. “What, were you expecting a cryptic answer on the relativity of life and death or something?”

He chuckles. “Guess not.”

A moment later, he gets distracted, turns a way for a split second and then you’re gone.

“Yeah, she does that.” An agent passing by comments.

You continue on your path, leave him the gift of a solved problem on his desk sometimes. He sets up cameras and lasers, trying to catch you just once. It takes him a few months to realize the janitor drops the files and notes for him. You and Natasha laugh at his expense.

He starts to leave files in various places he knows only you could find. The worst of the worst. Men and women he thinks you’d be happy to cross off. You can’t tell if he leaves them for you, or because they’re just terrible people. Either way, the change in narrative surprises you, but you never bring it up. You’re the last person that would ever judge someone.

Natasha taunts him over it.

“It’s a modern-day love story with an assassin twist.”

“Why not that one?” “She doesn’t like Oklahoma.” “How do you know that?”

“She sent booze as thanks for your last tip. Are your cheeks seriously red right now, Rogers?”

Eventually, you concede and stop leaving him only the locations of gift-wrapped bodies with detailed lists of committed crimes. Complete with proof, of course, you weren’t lazy. You start to send him alive leads, people that can be questioned. Sometimes they’re unharmed, usually they’re mostly coherent. He’s surprised by the change in narrative, but he never brings it up. Sometimes people change, but that was none of his business.

Natasha is sure to point it out, though, consistently.

“You see him more than anyone else.” “That’s not true!” “…” “He’s here more than you, so it’s only by default.”

“Wait, you left that guy alive?” “Steve needs to question him.” “What about that one guy I needed answers from?” “You didn’t say please.”

“I’ve known you longer.” “He leaves me sex traffickers.”

When a body comes up dead that shouldn’t have, your signatures blatantly displayed, they send him to bring you in. He doesn’t believe for a second you could kill a kid, but he’s the only one who can get close enough. Fury’s only half sure you won’t kill him.

You battle with the idea of running, knowing they’ll never find you if you don’t want them to. You saw the evidence; you knew you were screwed. Fury told you from the very beginning that if he ever sensed you had turned, he’d take you out. No warning, no questions. Still, you wait patiently in your living room.

The window by the fire escape opens and Steve slides through, tip toes his way in and around the corner only to find you sitting there, an amused smirk tugging your lips.

“What calf exercises do you do? They look fantastic.”

He rolls his eyes and catches site of the artwork around him, the soft whites and greys of your walls and furniture giving spotlight to their colors. He never even considered you could have a home. You follow his gaze and shrug. Assassins can have taste too.

“The diplomat’s son, did you kill him?” He asks. You watch him silently. “Fury thinks you did.”

You walk slowly towards him, watch him curiously and tilt your head. “And if I did?” You prompt.

“I have orders to bring you in.”

You’re a breath away now, gliding your fingers along the Kevlar of his arm and trailing your way to his jaw. You trace his collar with a fingertip, watch as the pulse of his jugular quickens. You look up at him and he swallows thickly.

“And if I don’t want to?” You graze tentative fingers along the edge of his jawline. “Tell me, Captain, would you kill me?”

He hopes the eagerness in your voice is misplaced, the envy misinterpreted. Or perhaps the girl who surrounds herself with death does it with the idea that it may one day take her.

You don’t give him the opportunity to dive into that rabbit hole.

When you place your lips on his, soft and remnant of something sweet, he can only taste the brilliance of life. He wraps himself around you, slips in his tongue when you’re startled by his sudden switch. You thought you’d leave him shaken enough to slip away, disappear with the rising sun.

But now? Now you’re just as hungry for him.

He carries you, lays you across your bed. He runs the pad of his thumb along every scar left behind by a blade, places a kiss on each one from a bullet. You knot you fingers in his hair as he drags his tongue up the inside of your thigh, scream his name when he brings you higher than you’ve ever been before.

When he slides into you and stretches you deliciously so, you allow yourself to feel just this once. He catches the shift in your eyes, convinces himself his mind is playing tricks on him when the grey haze appears to fade.

He moves slow before he finds his pace. You dig fingernails into his back and trail them down hard enough to make him hiss. He nips you from shoulder to jaw, hips rocking into you, and you swear nothing has ever felt this good.

You lay there in silence, sweat coated limbs still entangled. He sighs heavily and you just know he’s about to ruin the moment.

“Stay.” You whisper. He looks down at you wrapped around him. “I’ll go with you in the morning, just stay tonight.”

He tightens his grip on your bicep and nods. “Ok.”

You’re still awake when dawn breaks, you had gotten lost in the simple rhythm of his heartbeat. A dream that one day life could be even just an imitation of normal. The thought makes you sad more than anything else.

You slip from his arms, grab a bag, and pack the essentials. Watching him sleep, he seems so peaceful, so good. You ache to wake him and stick around long enough to fix this mess. He deserves that.

Could you do it? Forget your past and pretend to be anything other than the hollow shell those before carved you into?

Ah, but this was your MO. Slip away in the dark when things took a turn either way. ‘Flight risk’ has always been written on the back of your eyelids. You weren’t quite sure why you felt you owed Steve more, but you did.

He awakes to a bright sun and a cold spot beside him. There’s a torn piece of paper where your head should’ve been. He brushes his thumb over his name and opens it. It states your innocence and exactly who he should be looking for, where to find them. At the bottom is a separate line.

‘Careful, Captain, or I just might be your future.’

Three years later.

You grab the tiny umbrella in your drink to twirl the ice around again. Undoubtedly a nervous habit you picked up in response to the very crowded beach bar you’re currently sitting at.

It was an alert you received in the middle of the night notifying you of your cleared name a year ago. You can’t be sure how whoever it was reached you, but the screenname ‘Tiny Dancer’ gave you a few ideas.

In that moment, reading those last two words you’re free, something changed. Perhaps it was months of being on the run from people who you allowed to know you well enough to track you that left you felling so drained. 

Of course, you thought about the beautiful man you left behind first, knowing that there was no one in this world who would fight harder for your freedom. You wanted to go find him, you really did, but you couldn’t deny the fact that you felt different this time. Like maybe this was your chance to start over. A chance to live a life that had been stolen from you so long ago. 

The bartender, a lovely middle aged man who strictly wore floral button ups, watches you down the rest of your drink and is quick with the refill. You try to thank him, but he waves you off.

“Anything for my favorite customer.” 

You push your bottom lip out in an exaggerated pout. “Are we not friends by now?”

He barks out a laugh and leans forward against the bar in front of you. “Friends get invited to drink with me, which you do almost everyday. Family gets invited to the cookout. Which is Sunday, by the way. Show up early and bring an appetite.” He shoots you a playful wink before pushing off to help another customer. 

You lean your head back slightly to feel the warmth of the sun and tune into the sound of the crashing waves. It’s the lightest you think you may have ever felt with the sand sticking to your bare legs and salt water in your hair.

Nothing could interrupt this perfectly blissful moment. 

Well, almost nothing.

“Sand looks good on you.” A deep voice says beside you and you smile, face still tilted towards the sun.

“Took you longer than I thought.” You turn to Steve still smiling. “How long can you stay?”

He moves his sunglasses from his eyes to the top of his head and looks around for a moment taking in the view. When he turns back to you, the smile that breaks across his face almost stops your heart.

“As long as you’ll let me.”

[hypnomicimagines]

17 + tdd ichiro ♥️

Yamada Ichiro: 

Ichiro constantly got himself into messes he had no idea how to get out of.

You had said just one date, one fake date, Ichiro had to keep reminding himself that he wasn’t actually supposed to have feelings for you. He wasn’t supposed to think you were the most beautiful being on this planet when he came to your house to pick you up and his heart wasn’t supposed to be fluttering in his chest as you held hands on your walk to the café. You just needed to pretend to have a boyfriend so a few creeps would get off your back and as much as Ichiro thought his fists would be more efficient than putting on a show he respected your decision to keep it simple. Plus, he could always call in a request for Samatoki if things really got too hard to manage.

He spotted your stalkers from the corner of his eye and kept them in his line of sight for most of the night, even as you walked around the crowded city streets and enjoyed the festival occurring. He played a few games and won you a stuffed present, cheeks turning red as you thanked him with a kiss on the cheek while hugging the stuffed animal to your chest. You’re getting stared at for being with someone like Ichiro but it never bothered him, he was more worried about your own reputation and what might draw other people’s ire because of him. It’s not like he planned on going anywhere, he was in your life now whether you wanted him to be or not, so he’d just have to stick close to make sure no one tried anything else.

You’d let him do that, wouldn’t you?

“I’m so sleepy, Ichi, walk me home?” You playfully clung to his side and laughed as he blushed again.

“Stop messin’ with me.”

“I couldn’t possibly know what you’re talking about!”

His fingers interlocked with yours again as you started the walk home and he was starting to feel self-conscious, starting to wonder if he should even be enjoying this peaceful evening out with you when he had so many other things to worry about. He was still young and this was probably far more age appropriate than anything else he was getting himself into as of late but it still felt wrong. Not wrong in the sense that you didn’t belong together but wrong in that he should’ve handled these guys without going this roundabout way. He thinks that even more as you’re walking home, hearing the sounds of footsteps echoing behind him and glancing back to see the same two men who couldn’t take their eyes off of you all night.

Ichiro looked over at you briefly and saw the smile had dropped from your face, replaced with a nervous grimace as you tried to look ahead while ignoring the reality behind you. Your house was only a few feet away but there was no chance that these guys wouldn’t keep bothering you, that they wouldn’t just break into your house the moment Ichiro was gone, and he couldn’t be up all night worrying when he had so much work to do as it was. Releasing your hand and whipping around he gives a solid glare, knowing it’s intimidating enough as it causes the two strangers to falter. You’re not telling him to stop or holding him back which he marked as a good sign, fists raised as he clashed with the strangers who seemed to finally find their balls.

He won, of course, and if he hadn’t he might’ve been desperate enough to pull out his mic to stop you from getting hurt. You looked incredibly worried but the two men with blood now pouring down their face had promised to leave you alone unless they wanted to deal with all the members of the Dirty Dawg. He had flexed the name but he didn’t actually know if he could rope the others into helping him out, probably Jakurai but Ramuda and Samatoki liked to be contrarians for no actual reason. Still, the problem was solved for now and as far as he knew they didn’t technically know which exact house was yours so perhaps things really would work out in the end.

“Thanks for all of that, Ichiro,” You rubbed the back of your head sheepishly, “I didn’t, uh, didn’t really know what to do about that and I hoped them seeing me with you would put them off but…”

“It’s all good,” Ichiro shrugged like his fists weren’t throbbing, “You’re safe so it’s all that matters. I do have another question though.”

“And what’s that?” The smile Ichiro loved to see has returned to your face and he feels a little more light-hearted, easily able to push out the pain when he looked at you.

“Do I get a goodnight kiss?”

“Hm.” You tapped your lips and pretend to think about it despite knowing all evening you were going to make a move on him,  “I guess a kiss wouldn’t hurt.”

Ichiro is flabbergasted at your response as he hadn’t expected the answer to be yes, he expected you to roll your eyes at him and then for some more banter to be exchanged before he was sent on his way. He almost feels guilty, like he bullied you into giving him something, and he’s about to back away while telling you he doesn’t need anything when you grabbed onto his jacket. The kiss is just a quick one pressed to his lips but it was his first one and it would be one he’d remember for years to come. You laughed at him, poked at his red cheeks, and then said goodnight as though nothing out of the ordinary had happened.

That night he laid in bed and thought about it, over and over, until he finally drifted off to sleep.

[notkageyamasprincess]

youth | tsukishima kei x reader

characters: childhood friend!tsukishima kei x g/n!reader

genre/warnings: fluff, a tiny crumb of angst, typical unrequited love EXCEPT IT’S NOT UNREQUITED, maybe crack if you really squint, no warnings except maybe cussing? anyways they slow dance in a playground 💞

words: 2.4k

summary: you and tsukishima are on a late-night snack run when you pass by the playground where you met as kids. together, you reminisce about childhood memories, make a few realizations, and make plans to fulfill an old promise.

notes: listen to youth by troye sivan while reading if you’d like. also, i tried to make the reader gender-neutral, hopefully i didn’t accidentally miss something

The sound of distant traffic and rustling leaves filled your ears as you and Tsukishima walked home from your trip to the nearby 24-hour convenience store. The snack packaging crinkled in the plastic bag he carried, and your footsteps fell into a comfortable rhythm beside him. The orange gleam of the streetlamps created tall shadows of your silhouettes, stretching across the pavement in front of you. Turning your head, you recognized the familiar metal railings of the old playground you visited countless times as children.

You tugged at his sleeve to stop him and pointed to the entrance. 

“Do you remember when we used to come here all the time? Let’s go sit for a while, I don’t feel like going home yet.”

“Suit yourself. It’s cold, I’m going home,” he responded, a scowl on his face. He hands you the bag and continues walking.

“Hmm, I bet you just want to leave so you can go text your crush. Your mom would be pissed if she found out that you left me out here alone at this hour, though. Auntie loves me like I’m her own child, you know that” you called out, grinning mischievously. 

He stops in his tracks. “____, are you threatening me?”

“Nope,” you replied in a sly tone. “I’m just a master of persuasion.” You don’t wait for him to reply and started cheerfully towards the swings, knowing he would follow you. You grinned even wider when you hear his strides coming closer.

You couldn’t see it, but a ghost of a smile softened his expression as he trailed behind you.

“You’re annoying,” he muttered. 

Fine, whatever. As long as it makes you happy.

You set down the plastic bag next to the swings and nudged his shoulder as he approached you. “Look, I’ll treat you to a hot drink to make it up to you. There’s a vending machine over there, what do you want?”

“Coffee’s good.”

As you hurried over to the machine, he gazed at your retreating figure illuminated by the dim glow emitting from behind the glass. He chuckled as you propped your chin on your hand, carefully pondering the options before you.

Your eyes flitted over the labels before finally settling on what to get for yourself. 

Milk tea it is.

You returned, tossing him his coffee which he caught effortlessly. 

He met your eyes with an amused look. “Took you long enough.”

“Hey, it was a difficult decision!” 

You plopped down on the swing next to him and popped open the tab on your own drink.

------☾------☾------ 

You swayed back and forth, tracing circles in the gravel with your foot as you and Tsukishima recounted your childhood antics. Breaths rise in puffs as you nursed your drinks.

“Sometimes I wish we could be kids again. We didn’t have anything to worry about…”

He hummed in agreement. You snuck a glance at his handsome features. Moonlight reflected off his glasses as he sipped from his can and you felt your cheeks burn when you realized you were staring at his lips.

And I didn’t have to hide anything from you. Especially not my feelings. I didn’t need to suppress my jealousy when girls asked you for “help” on solving problem sets, or when you brought up your crush. I didn’t have to act like I wasn’t sulking when you received other people’s chocolates on Valentine’s Day. I didn’t have to worry about ruining our friendship.

You quickly caught yourself and shook it off, putting a plastic smile on your face. “…I want to go back and relive it again,” you continued.

He quirked an eyebrow. “You sure? What about the time you tried to play hero when Yamaguchi was getting bullied, and then you ended up twisting your ankle?”

“I didn’t expect those boys to actually fight back. Plus, they were nearly twice my size, I didn’t think they would be that low,” you huffed.

“Who knows what would have happened if I wasn’t there.” 

“Luckily, my knight in shining armour came to the rescue,” you giggled, recalling how he had to carry you home on his back. “Anyways, if that didn’t happen, then we wouldn’t have become the Three Musketeers.”

“Dude, stop calling us that, it’s embarrassing.”

“The point is, as far as I know, all my memories with you guys are good memories.”

Tsukishima felt a smile tug on the corners of his lips yet tried hard to conceal how happy that made him feel.

“You’re such a sap. That’s because for the last ten years, I was constantly saving your ass and cleaning up after your messes,” he scoffed.

But I don’t think I’d mind doing that for another ten years. Or twenty.

You noticed faint music coming from his earbuds and perked up.

“Hey, you’re using the earbuds I got you for Christmas!”

“Of course, dumbass. What else would I do with them?”

“I still think you seem cooler with headphones but at least now no one gets to call you broke,” you joked.

He winced. “Isn’t that a dead meme? Also, they’re convenient and I like how they’re wireless.”

You just beamed at him.

He loved how pleased you get over the smallest things. He loved how your eyes became crescents when you smiled. He loved how easy it was to read you. Your emotions were always written on your face and you never made him guess.

God, I’m whipped. 

You finished your drink and placed it on the ground. “So, what are you listening to?” You reached over to take an earbud and found a saccharine love song crooning in your ear. “I didn’t know you listened to stuff like this,” you teased. 

“That’s because I don’t. Did you forget that you were the one who added this to my playlist?”

“Excuses, excuses. Just admit it, it’s a good song.” You leapt up and made a move to pull him up. “Let’s dance.”

“The hell? No way, why would I?”

“Come on, there’s no one else here except us, and I really want to.” You gave him your best puppy eyes and begged. “Kei-chan…Please?”

Tsukishima felt his resolve weaken.

This is bad. Why is it so hard to say no?

“I told you already, drop the -chan,” he said, reluctantly letting you drag him away.

You wrapped his arms around your waist and looped yours around his neck. “Oops, I guess old habits die hard.” You looked up at him. “Kei.”

The tips of his ears tinged pink and he felt the back of his neck heat up.

Shit, shit, shit. Calm down, she only said your name. Stop freaking out.

“Hey, your neck feels really warm right now. Didn’t you say you were cold?”

“Shut up, that’s just because of your sweaty hands.”

“Deal with it.”

------☾------☾------

You gently swayed to the tune and closed your eyes, savouring the moment. 

He glanced down. The moon shined on you and accentuated your long eyelashes, cute nose, and rosy lips. A slight breeze swept over the two of you and your hair fluttered softly in the air before coming to a rest, framing your face once more.

When did this brat get so attractive?

He averted his eyes just in time before you noticed. The current song ended, and a more upbeat track began to play. It was “Youth” by Troye Sivan.

“Do you want to stop? This is probably too fast to dance to, and you’re going off the beat,” he pointed out.

“No, it’s alright. I’m having fun and I really like this song.”

You reached into his coat pocket to put the song on loop then laid your head on his shoulder. Truthfully, this was the most romantic thing you’ve ever done. You wanted to press pause on the entire world and stay in your haven for as long as possible.

“Kei, do you know what just came to mind? This is the place where we first met, and I remember being obsessed with you at first because I thought you looked similar to the main character from my favourite movie. Back then, I made it my goal to marry someone just like him.”

You smiled wistfully at the memory, recalling how you followed him around everywhere like a lost puppy. You found it hilarious that you liked him even then.

He smirked. “Yeah, I avoided you like the plague and I got so fed up because you wouldn’t stop pestering me to marry you.”

“Yup! You even told me that kids are too young to marry but I just made you swear not to kiss other people and to marry me when we were old enough,” you laughed. “Now that I’m looking back on it, that was a pretty stupid promise.”

He honestly didn’t think it was that stupid. There were things that were more stupid in the world. One of them being your taste in men, for instance. He was tired of hearing you gush about a new guy every month.

You and Tsukishima allowed yourselves to get lost in the music and immersed yourselves in the lyrics.

My youth, my youth is yours Tripping on skies, sipping waterfalls

My youth, my youth is yours Run away now and forevermore

My youth, my youth is yours A truth so loud you can't ignore

My youth, my youth, my youth My youth is yours

  “We should go soon. You mentioned you had plans tomorrow morning, right?” he asked.

“I do, but it’s nothing too important. I’m meeting up with Terushima-san.”

His expression soured. “You mean that greasy bastard with the tongue piercing who tried to hit on you at one of our games? Why are you going on a date with that guy?”

“It’s not a date!” you protested. “He asked me to hang out with him once and then he’ll stop texting me.”

He tightened his hold on your waist.

Don’t go.

“You should have just ignored him, it’s not like you owe him a date,” he grumbled.

Why are you wasting your time on him?

You shrugged. “Too late now, it’d be rude to cancel so last minute.”

He rolled his eyes.

Are you trying to make me jealous? Open your eyes, I’m right in front of you! 

You froze. 

Did I hear that right?

You slowly pulled out of the embrace and scanned his face. He looked at you with an indecipherable emotion. Your heart sped up and you hesitated, wondering if you should say something. 

But why would he be jealous, that’s just wishful thinking right? Isn’t he in love with someone else?

You questioned him with a hopeful tone. “Kei. Can you say that again? I might have misheard.” 

Tsukishima’s expression morphed into one of perplexity. And then it dawned on him. 

Oh. Oh. Fuck, fuck, FUCK. 

You started talking before he got a chance to collect his thoughts. “I heard something about jealousy, and I think I heard you say, ‘Open your eyes, I’m right in front of you.’” Your imploring eyes nervously met his own. “But that can’t be right. You were just telling me about the person you were in love with last week.”

Shit. So, you heard it all. 

His mind was racing for ways to take himself out of the current situation. He didn’t think there was much damage control he could do at this point, but you seemed confused and skeptical of what he just said. Maybe he could try to play it off. 

Or... what if I took the opportunity to come clean?

He took a deep breath. “Actually, I’m in love with you, ____. The person I was talking about was you.”

You couldn’t believe your ears.  Never in your wildest fantasies did you entertain the possibility of him returning your feelings. 

He’s in love with…me? This is a dream. This has to be a dream. 

“It’s okay, you don’t have to respond. This is why I didn’t want to tell you,” he continued. “Look, just give me some time, it doesn’t have to be awkward between us or anything, we can act like how we were before.”

He loosened his hold and started to pull away when you suddenly gripped his shoulders.

“Kei. Pinch me.”

“What?”

“Pinch me,” you repeated. “Ow!” You rubbed your cheek. “Okay, this is definitely not a dream then.”

You gazed up at him and carefully placed your hands on both sides of his face. 

“Listen, I feel the same way. I love you. I’ve loved you since we were sixteen.”

His eyes widened. He gathered you in his arms and engulfed you in a hug. He felt relieved. He felt like he was in the clouds. He felt like he was on a high that he would never come down from. 

You laughed and wrapped yourself around him. 

After a couple minutes, he finally spoke. “____, this might be happiest moment of my entire life. The only thing that can top this would be the moment I see you walking down the aisle towards me. I’m serious. I fully intend to marry you.”

“I have no complaints. As long as you don’t go back on your words, I guess you’re stuck with me.”

“Idiot.” 

“I’m your idiot now,” you grinned. 

He kissed you on the forehead and smirked. “That’s right.”

You melted at the rare display of affection. Almost immediately after, an amusing idea came to your attention and you cracked up.

“What’s so funny?”

“I was just thinking, I feel like I should pat myself on the back and congratulate myself. Six-year-old me would be very pleased at how things turned out.”

He snorted. “Yeah, maybe you were onto something there.” 

“There’s one thing I’m curious about though. When did you realize you had feelings for me?”

“I’m not exactly sure. I think it was sometime during the first year of junior high that I started seeing you differently and noticed that I liked you as more than a best friend.”

Your jaw dropped. “You’re kidding. For real? You’ve suffered for way longer than I had.”

His cheeks flushed scarlet and he avoided looking in your direction for a few seconds. “Well, I wouldn’t call it suffering, but at least now you know.” Then, he caught your eyes and stared at you intently. “Hold on, you’re not still going on that date tomorrow with Terushima, right?”

You smiled reassuringly. “Not anymore. I mean, tonight changed things. I have a boyfriend now, yes?”

“Yeah. Unfortunately for him, you’re mine.”

“I’m yours.”

My youth, my youth is yours A truth so loud you can't ignore

My youth, my youth, my youth My youth is yours

My youth is yours

My youth is yours.

a/n: okay if you actually read to the end, thank uuu!  i’ve had the idea of slow-dancing in the night while listening to youth for a couple years now, it’s just been floating around in my head and i decided to take a chance to write it out! started as a cute date idea but alas, i have no partner to re-enact this with... so there you go! i honestly wanted to write kageyama for my first piece but tsukishima fit a bit better lmao. please feel free to give feedback or general thoughts!

[jadelotusflower]

Robin Hood Rewatch: 1x13 A Clue: No

“Previously on” recaps can be annoying, but there is an art to it and I love a good one. This is a very, very good one, summarising the last episode with ramping tension as the music builds, then cuts to a different take of the last scene as the theme song starts, and we’re into the opening credits.

This is a long one, so it’s going under the cut:

Guy estimates that the “inner circle” of Robin’s gang is “a dozen at the most” and I find it very funny that neither he nor Vaisey have twigged that it’s always the same five people around him. What’s more annoying than funny is that they don’t know how many are in the “outer circle” because that really should have been A Thing in the show (Forrest and Hanton should have come back to guest star! I will never let this go!) After all, we see Little John with more men in the first episode, there are other outlaws in the forest/across the shire that are either working with Robin, or pose a risk to them, and I wish this had been explored.

Djaq manhandling and holding her sword to Pitts’s throat - I love Djaq.

The first arrow Robin shoots is intended for Vaisey, but one of the guards inconveniently walks in front and gets it in the chest. The second arrow is intended for Vaisey as well but he ducks (”my tooth!”) so we can’t fault the writing for a credible attempt at Why Doesn’t Robin Just Kill The Sheriff, because in this scene at least, he tries.

Bye Pitts. You certainly were.

I actually really love this scene (which probably seemed odd given the high body count), but Robin drawing his sword and charging, with Much, Djaq, and John backing him up to avenge Marian’s apparent death/make a final stand, as the music shifts from the jaunty Rescue Theme to Marian’s Theme, just gets me every time.

Although thanks to the cast commentary, I can’t unsee Djaq flipping that guy over her head twice, but hey, it’s a badass move. Clearly they didn’t shoot enough coverage of this fight, because we get the same action from several different angles.

Other than the flashback in episode 8, I think this is the only time we see Robin in Crusader mode, and just how lethal he (and the gang) can be when unleashed and with nothing to lose. Even when the enemy retreats Robin remains kind of wild-eyed with rage unsated, and it takes a beat for him to snap out of it. It’s symbolism time - he sticks his sword in the ground and leaves it there, and we don’t see it again this episode (or much in season 2).

There’s some nice acting going on from everyone in this scene - just utter exhaustion, Allan and Will oblivious to why the rest are so distraught, Much taking it upon himself to tell them but can’t say the words, and Robin with the finality of “she’s dead.” Their faces!

Djaq is still holding two swords as she enters the cave, which is a nice character beat - no doubt the fight also brought back unpleasant memories/triggers for her, and she remains on edge, for the moment unwilling to give up her defences even when the threat is gone.

I really love this scene too (the gang mourning Marian) and I think it’s quite deftly written - Djaq’s immediate reaction being the importance of a quick burial (as per Islamic tradition), Robin trying to keep it together, attempting to ask John/Will to build a coffin but unable to, so deflecting to ask Djaq to prepare Marian’s body, before trying twice again; John soothing him and taking charge. Will’s single tear and speaking of Marian’s goodness. Much responding with “Good? Oh, she was... She was...” looking to Robin because of course his thoughts are for Robin’s grief before his own, and also that his own relationship with Marian was complex. Allan: “She was alright...yeah” that says so much, and of course John’s “Her, we liked.” Again, some fine acting, kudos everyone.

“I loved her and I never told her” is ironic because Robin still won’t tell her until halfway through the next season, and if he had in the aftermath of her apparent death he could have spared himself a lot of the angst of the rest of the episode. But of course he doesn’t tell her, doesn’t learn from this moment, because emotions are hard, and sometimes we make the same mistakes over and over again.

I really love that it’s Allan that notices that Marian is alive, and his little “told ya” flourish.

Score note: while Marian is “dead” her Theme is strings, when she opens her eyes, it’s back to the guitar.

Guy’s guilt in finding out his impending marriage to Marian is based on false pretenses - would he still have forced the marriage if he’d known that from the start?

Djaq still has her two swords as they take Marian back to Knighton.

Guy, if your first instinct when told Marian is not at home is that she’s run away rather than marry you...maybe take a hint? “She cannot run from me” is a big yikes, and this confuses me as to Guy’s motivation in this scene. Did he intend to tell Marian the truth, but then convince himself otherwise (because “the excitement of the wedding” =/= “the wedding excites her”), but then why so angry when he thinks shes run? The difference between getting someone go/being left, I suppose.

Illness is a perfectly plausible explanation for delaying the wedding that no one seems to think of.

Edward is actually pretty bang on in this scene with Robin from a father’s perspective, telling him to let Marian go if he cannot stop it, and do the right thing. On the other hand...

“I am sick of doing the right thing” is why Robin is such a compelling character for me - because it is hard to always be good, to be held to that higher standard, and make the unselfish choice. I enjoy narratives that explore that, and this show is surprisingly unflinching about it, exemplified by:

The next scene, which is one of the most emotionally brutal/hard to watch of the entire show, in which Robin lashes out and does everything to drive Much away, including calling him “a pox”  and a “small man” until Much’s heart visibly breaks.

Now I don’t want to excuse Robin here, because he is objectively awful to someone who doesn’t deserve it, who is trying to give him support but also telling him some much needed hard truths (even if it is slightly self-serving, which is what what seems to set Robin off). But at the end of the day, if he loves Marian he needs to accept that it is her choice to marry Guy, to “do the right thing” to (she thinks) protect her father - and later of he does just that. For now Edward and Much are both right, it is more important for him to try and protect the king from Vaisey, because if he is ousted and Richard back on the throne so many lives would be improved, including the people of Locksley. But Robin has been pushed to breaking point all season, and has now snapped and can’t see reason, but is stuck in his own grief/rage.

But unlike previously, when Robin said regrettable things in the heat of the moment and then immediately took them back, this is a calculated attack designed to hurt Much the most, because he loves Robin so much that it takes A Lot to push him away. It’s a bold move to make your hero so unlikable in such a moment, because Robin really is unforgivably cruel here, and trust the audience to understand why. I mean, I don’t want to bang on about the PTSD, but it’s (partly) the PTSD, based on a triggering, precipitating event causing a self-destructive spiral. Robin needs some Ye Olde Therapy.  

For all the talk about Robin getting his title and lands back, nothing is said about what happens to Gisborne once he does, other than that they can’t prove he was the one who tried to assassinate Richard. Because really, Richard probably would believe Robin even though the tattoo was burned away, and Guy’s certainly committed other crimes that could be testified to just like they’re intending for Vaisey - and let’s be real, it’s not like a king needs evidence to order someone’s death (hello, season 2 finale). Boom - Guy executed, marriage to Marian annulled, problem solved!

So, the scene between Marian and Guy, in which Marian is more concerned with whether or not Guy tried to kill the king than the fact that he stabbed her. But its understandable, because Marian thinks there’s no way out that doesn’t risk her father’s life, and it’s easier to convince herself that maybe Guy didn’t do it to make the best of things. I think she does have some kind of feelings for him, or is at least moved by his feelings for her, and believes if nothing else she can influence him/continue working from the inside; giving up the mantle of the Nightwatchman but doing the same work (in a different way) as Lady Gisborne.

And then it’s Robin/Marian angst, round 3, and it’s a far cry from their interaction in the cave milliseconds away from “I love yous” - in both tone and body language they’re back in defensive positions talking past one another. The tension, it be thick.

Marian is making her best rationalisation with “deprived of love” and Robin not at all buying the Woobification 101. Once she tells him her decision to marry Guy, he accepts it, but it’s Marian’s reaction that’s telling, she’s surprised that he doesn’t argue, deep down she wants him to fight for her, to say that the real reason she shouldn’t marry Guy is because he loves her. It’s quite a contrast from the previous scene where Guy was very open about how he feels about her, while Robin deflects, but while she was conflicted about Guy trying to kiss her, she’s frustrated, disappointed, and angry when Robin leaves.

But really, this is rather unfair of Marian, because Robin did already declare himself in the cave (”we should be together”) without her reciprocation, so expecting him to take the first step again without any encouragement is a bit much.

Would a depressed person sit slumped against a tree all night?

“But by taking Marian in holy wedlock, I will wash away those crimes. Her pure heart will cleanse mine.” Yeah...not going to touch that one. I appreciate that there’s a lot going on with Guy and many, many people find it compelling, but I’m afraid it’s not really a narrative that interests me.

Speaking of pure hearts: Much. Faced with the same choice he was counseling Robin on, but with the additional wrinkle of knowing the king’s an imposter, he still decides to stop the wedding. “Her heart belongs to another” is A Moment and I don’t know exactly why but I find his very soft pleas following this and calling her “my lady” very affecting. 

She’s beauty and she’s grace, she punched Guy in the face.

“A trap. I knew it.” I haaaaate this line. NO YOU DIDN’T KNOW IT ROBIN YOU KNEW NOTHING OF THE KIND IF YOU HAD KNOWN YOU WOULD BE EVEN MORE OF A DICK FOR LEAVING UGGGHHHH.

“We can’t be seen together” Right in front of my salad two guards on front gate duty, who get front row tickets to the kiss. Look at them! They’re right there! This show drives me absolutely bonkers sometimes.

I do love this dress though.

“An audience with the king has been suspended!” Going out on one last pun.

Regardless, I really love this episode. Despite the lack of fallout from the emotional wringer they all went through, I can’t help but smile when the gang does their silly little jump for joy at the end.

[ivanaskye]

I’ve been thinking about making this post for a while, since I finished reading Wheel of Time, a series whose first book I read many years ago and hated, a series which ended up being very much one of my favorite of all time if not my single favorite, a series that has my two favorite characters ever.

A series that is very flawed.

So behold, my long answer to the question...

Should you read The Wheel of Time?

I’ll split this into three sections (but not three posts): What Even Is The Wheel Of Time, Some Likely Dealbreakers, and Tl;Dr.

Under the readmore, of course.

1. What Even Is The Wheel of Time?

A system of circular time in which the same rough eras of humanity repeat

However, the fact that time in the series operates this way... doesn’t actually matter that much.

And out of seven total repeating ages, we only spend time in one, and only know anything at all about four others.

The last three? A mystery

Don’t worry about it

Okay, that’s probably not what you were asking. You were probably asking something more like: what’s the plot of this series?

Let me be straight with you about that one.

It’s a Chosen One plot.

But,

It also has a very large cast of characters, many of which are very Protagonist in their own right

Including the main character’s immediate foil, who is absolutely not a “Chosen One” except for the fact that she freaking chose herself, basically manufacturing her own call to adventure out of the main character’s. 

The six Most Main characters (by most fans’ understanding), can IMO be divided exactly into three foil-pairs: the Central Saving The World one, the Self Awareness Whomst? I Hate People Of Course I’d Never Help Anyone (Trips over 139289131 Pictures of Helping Other People) one, and the Study In Leadership one.

And remember that Chosen One I mentioned?

Yeah, he actually has a shit deal with being Chosen

Specifically: he is 100% prophecized to destroy the world. Whether he also saves it is a little more up in the air.

He’s also almost certainly fated to Go Insane.

(...Which is why the first ~3 books of the series are just him Running Away From His Fate at Full Speed, which--spoiler alert--Does Not Work.)

See also: Alienating All Your Friends 101, How NOT To Accept Being Polyamorous, It’s War Crimes Time

(Yes, there is canon polyamory.)

(...And a LOT of canon war crimes.)

But. In order to go any further, I have to talk about the Possible Dealbreakers of these series. 

2. So, About Those Dealbreakers

Broadly speaking, I’d say there are three: length, The Gender Binary, and Oh God Why Is Everyone Such A Dumbass.

Let’s go at these one-by-one.

Length

Let me be very clear here: WoT is over four million words long in total.

This has at times been calculated as perhaps the longest word count for any series... ever? It’s certainly one of the longest English-language series that occurs to random statistics geeks to look at the word count of.

For reference, in case you needed it... that’s longer than Homestuck. This is true even if you translate images, videos, and so on into equivalent word counts. And include the epilogue. And... yeah.

It’s like, shonen-long.

The upside of this, however... is that it’s really long.

That might seem like a weird upside, but if you’ve ever wanted to get really immersed in a series... especially if you read very quickly and usually get through things fast... well.

To put things in perspective, I often read 300-page books in one sitting without trouble. WoT took me about six months.

So uh

Do you want your life, mind, body, and soul to get eaten by a book series?

The answer to that question will probably tell you if you should read Wheel of Time

The Gender Binary

Okay, so here’s the thing: in the time period WoT takes place in, only women can use The One Power (the main form of magic in the setting).

The reason for this is that the One Power, despite being called one right there in the name, is divided into the Female Version and the Male Version. Only women can use the former, only men can use the latter. And the latter has been tainted such that any man who uses it goes mad.

Our main character is a man who can use the power.

The upside is that things actually go very un-sexistly from here. The different ways to access male (saidin) vs female (saidar) power don’t actually correlate to any consistent difference in personality or attitudes between men and women.

The fact that the MC is The One Man Using The Power and The Most Powerful, Because Chosen One... is actually also played shockingly un-sexistly. 

However, there very much always is that binary. Trans people? Nonbinary people? Uh... you can headcanon if you want, but the canon is not giving you that much to work with.

To make matters a little worse, men and women distrust each other to an almost hilarious amount in the setting. (My guess is something about Mostly A Patriarchy + Women Are The Mysterious Powerful Magic Users has really frayed gender relations in this society.) There are many, many in-character statements of “All men are [x unflattering thing]” “all women are [y unflattering thing]”, but these do not seem to in any way reflect the author’s beliefs, and are never actually true in-world; the characters are just Bad At This.

(A common example of this is “Women are all gossips!” *cut to a group of women* “Men are all gossips!”. Of course, the truth is that there are both male and female gossips and non-gossips in the series).

You would think this situation would lead to more just-women and just-men groups, but except from Magic-User Stuff, there isn’t that much of that, becaaaaause

~Heterosexuality~

Sigh, yes, this series is very het.

It’s not as het as it is binary; the Aes Sedai (female magic users) have a word for women who are having sex with each other, and there’s an onpage FF kiss in the prequel.

But it’s... not a lot.

So if you need a hit of sweet, sweet LGBTQ rep, it’s... not going to be here. Sorry. (Thankfully, a very large amount of fantasy books coming out today do have rep! It’s not that hard to find!)

Thankfully, most of WoT’s het romances are pretty good and believable/shippable. Though not all are.

And, the final likely dealbreaker...

Everyone Here Is A Dumbass

Listen. Nobody in this series drank their Having Brain Cells juice, uh... ever.

(Okay, exactly two characters--Min and Loial--did, but that’s it)

You know how I was talking about the gender mistrust? That’s just one example of an endemic problem of absolutely no one trusting other people, telling anyone things, or in any way having functional conversations

Min Literally Saves Lives By Being The Only Person Who Tells People Things

In addition to interpersonal problems, the characters’ problem-solving skills are uhh

Uhhhhhh

Uhhhhhhhh

Well, as I said, Rand, our main character, spends three books running away from his problems at full speed

After that, he’s only uh... dodging! Jogging away! Yeah

Meanwhile, basically everyone is doing the I Must Put Myself In Extreme Danger To Protect My Friends Who I would Never Accept Doing The Same (bonus points for when two people are doing this to protect each other at the same time) thing

And I Will Face God And Run Into Danger At Mach Speed

The upside is... you might like reading about these kinds of characters

But if you prefer characters who are not walking trash fires

Then I’m sorry

WoT is probably not for you

3. Tl;dr

In summary, Wheel of Time is an almost comically long series about a large cast of characters who have never functioned in their life trying to prevent the end of the world and having a really bad time.

(For some reason it doesn’t have a reputation as a Dark SeriesTM, but it actually is very dark at times. Although far from grim--every action seems to really matter, nothing is meaningless, it’s just that sometimes those actions are war crimes and people dying and a shit-ton of torture).

IMO, some of the other series that might be good predictors for liking WoT are Homestuck, Hunter X Hunter, and ASOIAF. In other words, other very long, large-casted series about trash fires.

If you want one other bit of enticement, the main character has the lowest nadir of any character arc I’ve ever seen, followed by the most impressive high and resolution. So if that’s your kind of thing, and if the dealbreakers don’t break your deals. Go ahead and give it a try.

[bbrandy2002]

Fool’s Rush In

Part 3

I’m participating in @wackydrabbles​ prompt #52: Sure, alcohol solves most problems, but in this particular case, I don't think it will help  (It is highlighted in bold).

Series Premise: With two weeks until Liam is to marry Madeleine, the guys throw him a bachelor party in Vegas. After a drunken night, he finds himself with way more than he bargained for.

You can find the previous chapters here.

MC did not exist in Liam’s social season. OC Riley Brooks lives in Las Vegas.

Pairing: Liam x OC

Book: The Royal Romance

A/N: This is an 18 plus series. There is mention of an STD, so if that is a trigger … might not want to read.

A/N: Thanks to @burnsoslow and @choiceskatie for snippet reading. And Burnsy and @jessiembruno for suggestions.

Word Count: 1752

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

Standing in the bathroom of the hotel's penthouse they shared with friends, Maxwell broke the news to a stunned Drake about his ... unfortunate condition.

"What're you gonna do about them, Drake?"

Frustrated, Drake ran a hand down his face, wanting to be anywhere but with Maxwell at that precise moment. "I don't know, Maxwell," he spat. "This is my first crabbing!"

"Maybe we can have a doctor look at them. Get some ... I don't know ... kind of comb or poison or something."

He pulled his pants back up and groaned. "I just need a drink."

Maxwell followed Drake out of the bathroom, keeping a good distance from his friend. "Sure, alcohol solves most problems, but in this particular case, I don't think it will help."

Liam and Leo sat on the sofa watching the Instagram posting of the wedding ceremony as the duo walked by. 

A disgruntled Liam stood and gestured to the laptop on the coffee table. "Maxwell! Why the hell did you post this? Do you have any idea what you've done?"

Drake was already out the door headed for the hotel bar. Maxwell never broke stride as he trailed. "No time to talk, Li. Got an STD emergency."

The door slammed with a jarring thud. Liam turned back to Leo with a confused look. "What was that?"

"Sounds like the Drakester didn't wrap it up," Leo chuckled while sippng on a capri-sun, while never taking his attention away from the screen. "Oh! Oh!" He waved his younger brother over with excitement. "This is the part where you sang, Moves Like Jagger, to Riley during the ceremony."

They both listened in as Liam's garbled voice reverberated from the speakers watching the King grind fervently against his bride. "Take me by the tongue, and I'll know you. Kiss me 'til you're drunk, and I'll show you all the moves like Liam. I've got the moves like Liam. I've got the moooOoooOooOooves like Liam."

Liam's hands flew in the air out of bewilderment. "I don't even know that fucking song!"

Leo slurped through his little yellow straw then replied, "I think you do. Videos don't lie, Liam."

A haste knock interrupted their viewing; Liam answered the door, surprised to see Riley.

The frantic woman held her phone up to his face. "Do you want to explain why I'm all over the internet with you, Elvis, and this … this monkey?  Also, it says we got married?"

Leo bolted from the sofa. "Hey! That monkey has a name, you know.”

"Not now, Leo," Liam grumbled.

Riley leaned to get a better look at the sandy-haired blond who was approaching the door. "Who are you?"

Stepping in front of his brother with a hand extended, he flashed his signature grin. "I'm Leo, your new brother-in-law. But only by half because my mom left me. Then I got a new mommy: Liam's mom -- then she died. Then we both got another new mom. Wait … is  Regina still alive? Oh my god! Tell me we still have a mom, Liam!"

"Leo! Get the hell out of here!"

He huffed. "Fine. I'll go make a sandwich. You want one sis?"

Riley shook her head.

Liam gave her an apologetic look. "I'm so sorry about him. Please come in." He stepped aside and offered her a seat on the sofa. 

She couldn't help but notice the laptop on the table paused on their abrupt ceremony. It was apparent to her that Liam was trying desperately to get his own answers.

Liam pushed the laptop aside and sat across from her on the table; his elbows rested on his thighs as he sat forward. He let out a heavy exhale. "I suppose we have a lot to talk about."

"Yes, we do. What is all of this? And you're a King? Why didn't you tell me that?"

"I am. It's a small country in the Mediterranean -- Cordonia. And I couldn't tell you because my head guard wouldn't allow me to come on this trip without him unless I remained discreet about my identity."

Riley regarded him thoughtfully. "I suppose that makes sense." 

Leo handed her a Capri-Sun with the straw already pushed in. She took it hesitantly and thanked him. "I guess I just need to know how we ended up married to one another last night?"

Liam's remorseful eyes idled up to his brother, who was now standing next to him, eating a turkey and Frito's sandwich. "According to my brother here, whose heart is bigger than his brain, I called him and asked him to marry us."

Leo shook his head. "That's true, Riley. It's all Liam's fault."

Liam rolled his eyes. "Leo, why don't you go check on Drake and Max."

"Fuck that!  Drake ain't got nothing I wanna be checking on right now."

"No, stay," Riley pleaded. "You seem to be the only one who knows what happened last night. Can you tell me everything, please?"

Leo gave Liam an arrogant smirk before falling back onto the sofa beside Riley.

"I'll tell you everything, but you two have to promise to name your firstborn after it's Uncle Leo."

Liam dropped his head into his hands. "Leo, dammit."

Leo nudged Riley in the side and leaned into her. "Your husband's an asshole. Probably inherited from our daddy. If he ever makes you drink from a wine goblet, you should probably run."

Riley patted his knee like a child and spoke softly, assuming at this point he was a mental case. "Leo, sweetie, can you just tell me what happened last night, please."

"Well, as I told Liam, I was getting my prostate milked from hot Nurse Trisha at the bank. I just needed change for a twenty, but they said I had to make a deposit first. They even give you porn in this private room. So she's two fingers deep when I get a call from Liam, who was as drunk as Cooter Brown at a church picnic and said he needed me to come down to that Graceland Chapel because he was getting married. So after I sputtered in the little cup, I left in such a hurry I didn't get my change, but I called Drake and Max and told them they had to meet us at the chapel."

Riley cocked her head. "Why was a monkey there?"

"Oh, that's Mongo, the ring bearer. And if you pulled on his nipples, he'd hump your legs and give you a quick reach around. The coolest fucking monkey I ever knew."

Riley snapped a wide-eyed stare at Liam, who just shrugged at her and said, "I ... I've got nothing."

Leo bit into his sandwich. The crunch from the mound of Fritos could be heard in the casino fifty-one stories below. "You know, Liam --" He smacked his lips a few times. "Now that you're married to sis, you don't have to marry Maddie. You can have the wife and Queen you've always wanted. And judging by the noises I heard coming from your room last night, she makes you very happy."

Riley chuckled, slightly embarrassed, while Liam stood and walked to the wet bar for a drink and some distance.

"Leo, I appreciate the thought," he said while pouring a tumbler of scotch. "But Riley and I are just strangers who had a good time, but made a huge mistake." Liam took a sip of his drink and walked back to the sofa. "Don't worry about anything, Riley. I will take care of the annulment in Cordonia and here in the states."

She smiled. "I would appreciate that. Thank you."

Leo tossed his sandwich on the table. "No! Liam, man, this is your chance to be free. You came to Vegas and hit the jackpot. And maybe you two kids are strangers now, but there's no reason why you couldn't get to know each other and fall madly in love. You already know you'll never love Mads. And then at the end of the day, I'd be the big sexy cupid who made it all possible."

It surprised Liam that his brother's suggestion tempted him... and that Leo actually made a coherent suggestion. He sighed. "I don't think so, Leo."

Riley looked between the two men, who seemed to have a stare down over the logic of this idea. She liked Liam; he was the handsome, mysterious guy that she had always dreamed of meeting.  She took a long drink of her juice and sat it on the table. "I think I will go, now. Is there anything you need from me, Liam, to quicken the annulment?"

"If you could write your contact information down in case my lawyer has questions, that would be great. I'll be sure you receive copies of everything as soon as possible."

Riley pulled a notepad and a pen from her purse as Leo walked over to Liam to debate further. "Don't do this little brother. Don't you do it. We can't afford to lose another member of our family. First it was daddy, then Regina, now Riley. I can't take it, Liam."

Liam placed a hand on Leo's shoulder. "It's done, Leo. And ... Regina is alive. You just spoke to her yesterday."

Leo's head dropped back with a heavy sigh of relief. "Oh, thank god."

"Here ya go, Liam." Riley stood and handed the paper to him and grabbed her purse from the sofa. 

Leo clutched both of her shoulders and shook them. "Please, Riley, don't go. Don’t leave my brother an orphan. You're the Queen of Cordonia now. Think of the people!"

Riley snorted from just the thought. "I know nothing about being a queen. I doubt I would have anything to offer your little country."

"Liam could teach you! Hell, I can teach you, too. I'm the smartest one in the family. You'll be bossing people around in no time."

"That's very kind of you, but I think I like my little life just fine here in Vegas, bossing kids around the classroom all day." She patted his arm endearingly and walked past him toward the door.

Liam stood there, watching her walk away while the words of his brother replayed heavily through his mind. Nothing made sense; he was sad that she was leaving, knowing that it was completely irrational to feel that way. Leo was right, though: this was his chance to be free, and even if it didn't work out in the end, it could buy him time to find the one he would love and have the family he always wanted.

He turned away and walked back to the wet bar to pour another drink; he wouldn't be selfish and ask this complete stranger to give up her life for him. 

With his back turned, he closed his eyes when he heard Riley speak her goodbyes and opened the door. 

A familiar voice rang out that shook him to his core, and he whipped around to see his current wife stopped at the door by his future one.

"Oh, you must be the one who thinks she can steal my crown."

[sayakas-dr-imagines]

Hello! Buuuut hajime, kazuichi and celestia being jealous of their s/o?

Hi! So, when I wrote this request, I didn’t know if you meant being jealous of their S/O, or being jealous over their S/O. That probably doesn’t make any sense.

If this isn’t what you were looking for then please, please, please, please, please tell me, and I’ll write another version! Okay? Deal.

- Mod Sayaka

Hajime Hinata, Kazuichi Souda and Celestia Ludenburg Getting Jealous Over Their S/O!

Hajime Hinata

- Hajime likes to think of himself as quite a relaxed and laid-back kind of guy. He doesn’t get too uptight in situations, but he’s just the right amount of logic you need to get you out of a situation when given the opportunity to help in any way possible.

- Jealousy has never really been an emotion he feels much. Sometimes he finds himself with a minor case of jealousy when people somehow stay calm in situations where even he is stressed out in. But it had never really gone beyond that sort of petty jealousy before.

-Yet as he looked on at you surrounded by guys, chatting with them and laughing with them, he couldn’t help but feel a pit in his stomach. He cursed himself for being so overprotective, since he knew it wasn’t a reasonable thing to get jealous over at first.

- But then he noticed one of the man’s advances. Most of the guy’s intentions with you were shown clearly through his body language and that certain twinkle in his eye that shows he’s up to no good.

- He has an inner argument with himself for a couple of moments. 

- It’s perfectly reasonable to get jealous when guys are flirting with your S/O, right? But then again... what if he wasn’t? They’re laughing. They might be jokes. But still...

- He let out a puff of air as he ran a hand through his spiked hair - conflicted beyond belief. He couldn’t help how he feels, but sometimes it isn’t right to feel a certain way about things. He could very well be in the wrong. Yet, as he looks at that guy casually wrap and arm around your shoulder...

- Now he feels anger. Anger that not only did he clearly have the intention of wooing you, but this man had the guts to touch you. He took one look at your face. You didn’t seem uncomfortable, but you did seem to try to step away from the man who put an arm around your shoulder.

- His body was moving on its own at this rate - as he casually walked over to the group. He couldn’t help but notice how your face lit up upon seeing him walk over. “Hajime! Come here, wanna hang out with us?”

- Honestly, Hajime had no response to that. He didn’t want to let you down or cause suspicion that he’s being possessive, but he also has no intention of speaking with any of these men who sparked something deep inside of him that he didn’t even know he had.

- Without thinking, he nodded his head in order to avoid the slim chance of you thinking he was being far too overprotective. Immediately after, you went back to chatting with the other guys. 

- He appreciated how to did your best to include him in the conversation, but he really wished you were psychic at the moment, so that you could know just how much he would pay or do to not be involved at all. This was the last thing he wanted to do - and he answered without thinking, which got him involved in the end.

- “Excuse me, guys,” you say as you take Hajime’s hand in yours. His heart stops for a moment. He hates that he does, but he takes pride in the look of fury and shock in the face of the man who was making moves on you. “I’m gonna leave now, ‘kay? See you later!”

- You pulled on his arm before he could register that you’d even started to walk away, and so he hastily walked after you as you led him around a corner or two. Somewhere, deep down, he was afraid of you telling him that he was being a terrible boyfriend by being jealous. But how would you even know exactly how he was feeling? He wasn’t that transparent, was he?

- You stopped abruptly, causing him to awkwardly bump into you. He mumbled an apology as he took a small step backwards. You turned around to face him, and you took a moment to even say a single word.

- “Hajime... is something wrong? You’ve been quieter than usual. Are you mad at me?” Panic flooded through his mind as soon as you said that. Did it really come off as if he was angry at you? He internally screamed at himself for letting you feel that way.

- He raised his hands. “No, no! N-not at all, I’m not mad at you, I swear!” He says this all too quickly to be believable, and be notices that, too. “Seriously, it isn’t you. I could never be mad at you.”

- “Then what’s up?” you asked frowning. Your gaze never left him for even a second - to the point where Hajime found it almost intimidating. He’d never felt like that before whenever your gaze was transfixed on him for another reason. Maybe it was the circumstances that made him feel intimidated.

- “I just... That guy, the one who wrapped his arm around your shoulder? Yeah. He clearly had alternative intentions with you - and... I was jealous.” It was almost painful for him to admit it, but relieving nonetheless.

- You didn’t look upset, or mad, like he thought you would. Instead, a big grin spread across your face. “Aw, Hajime! It’s fine. Next time just tell me, okay? I don’t actually like that guy, anyway. Too touchy-feely, y’know?

- The utter relief that he felt was overjoying, and he smiled back at you. “Yeah. Of course, I should’ve known there was no reason to be jealous.” 

- He was caught off guard as you pulled him down by his tie and kissed him, but he settled into it after a quick moment of realisation. 

- Now he realised how stupid it was to be jealous over something like that.

Kazuichi Souda

- Kazuichi was just wandering around through the halls, whistling to himself quietly when he turned a corner and was immediately stopped by his own shock. His thoughts were actually what brought him back to reality. 

- Around the corner, he saw you, being hit on by another guy. He had a typical jock aura to him, the type of one where they clearly aren’t to be messed with. He stood in shock for a moment, before deciding to get a good read on the situation before jumping to conclusions too early.

- He felt anger boiling up inside him as he heard him casually add in pickup lines to any decent conversation you two seemed to be having. They weren’t even that good - was this guy for real right now?

- This guy had the balls to hit on you when you clearly just wanted a casual conversation. It wasn’t as if he didn’t understand - like, you’re hot as hell, Kazuichi would honestly hit on you too. But he had the decency to have a conversation with you without completely ruining it with weak pickup lines.

- No, he’d ruin it with good pickup lines.

- But still. Even though he understood how the guy felt, that didn’t change how he felt. You’re his S/O, and by all rights, he should feel like this when guys are hitting on you. But what if he was joking around? What if he screwed something up while confronting you two about it?

- He was overthinking things. Which was never a good sign, no matter the circumstances. He gripped his beanie, distress, as different options ran through his mind.

- After seeing the guy give you a small punch to the shoulder, he snapped. He walked over - fully prepared for any conflict that may lie ahead of him. “Hey, man! The hell you doing?”

- The guy obviously didn’t want to see Kazuichi - because he previously confident and smug facial expression faltered and he looked almost disappointed. There was no response, but you turned to him with a look in your eyes that screamed “help me”.

- “Back off, dude. S/O doesn’t want you here.” Kazuichi pushed him back, standing next to you after saying that. The guy simply tried to regain his place next to you by shoving back.

- Kazuichi was fully ready to get physical with this guy - no matter what consequences were sure to follow. He stopped as soon as he felt your grip on his arm, pulling him back. “Stop it, Kazuichi. It’s fine, really, let’s just leave now. Okay?”

- He nodded, but ended up being shoved back again by the guy, who was clearly not just going to let him go without a fight. He stepped up to glare at him, but ultimately turned around and rushed out of the area with you trailing close behind him.

- He stopped when you two arrived at a bench. He practically collapsed down onto it, letting out a dramatic sigh as he did so. You were quick to follow, sitting down next to him. “You really didn’t have to do that, Kazuichi. But thanks - that guy was getting pretty forceful.”

- “I did have to do it, S/O! Listen - I know it sounds weird - but seeing guys treat you like that makes me real uncomfortable. You’re my S/O. Nobody else’s, right?” He looked at you, as if for confirmation, even though you both know nothing he just said needed any sort of confirmation from anybody, even if it was phrased that way.

- You smiled gently, leaned down, and kissed him. He seemed as if he was already prepared for this - kissing back almost immediately after.

- At least the worry he previously had was gone by now.

Celestia Ludenburg

- Celeste was normally a very calm and composed person. Even in times of crisis she was always able to stay level-headed and logical, which was a trait that many people admired. It was a trait of hers that she, herself, admired and found herself lucky to have.

- She was rather intimidating, too. Sometimes this was something she used to her advantage when people were being a thorn in her side - other times it was something that inconvenienced her when she needed people to trust her wholeheartedly.

- Yet as she walked into the library only to be met with a couple of guys making moves on you, she couldn’t help but feel like her calm and composed nature was faltering and deteriorating by the second.

- Her first instinct would usually be to walk right up there and confront the situation as it is. Tell the guy to go away so she could talk to you about it, and then the main problem would be solved. That has always been how she thought she would handle a situation like this.

- But when it happens in real life and she was faced with the decision for the first time, not in a hypothetical situation, it became much more difficult to work up the courage to bring herself to do anything at all.

- She was rooted to the spot, and she was left to unwillingly listen to what was happening between you two. What she heard only increased her rage by an amount she didn’t even believe was possible.

- This absolute imbecile was repeatedly telling you how much he “knows you want to go out with him”, and how much he’d “like to take you for a ride”. She couldn’t help but feel proud as you repeatedly told him to leave you alone without losing your composure completely.

- She finally regained control of her own body and forced herself to walk into the room - taking a good look at the situation ahead of her.

- Currently, you were sitting at a table with a book in front of you. Your struggle to keep focused was apparent in both your expression and how loudly the man was babbling on about himself.

- First, she walked over and took a seat near you. She saw your face light up, and felt her anger melt away slightly. “Good evening, dear. How are you today?” She rested her chin on her hands as she looked at you with the same deceitful smile on her face as always.

- “I’m doing great, Celeste. I’m trying to study, but-”

- “Excuse me, lolita girl, I’m having a nice conversation with this lovely person here.” Celeste looked up at the man, who had a smug look on his face. She gave him a smile.

- “Actually, I believe S/O here is attempting to study. They should not be having a conversation with anybody - unless it is one sided, yes?” Her passive-aggressive comment was not met kindly with the man it was directed towards. He slammed his hands down on the table in an attempt to be threatening.

- Celeste let her smile drop. She stood up, using her hands to lean over the table and be closer to the man. “I would greatly appreciate it if you could leave my dear S/O alone to study. A foul man such as yourself should be in the garbage dump - where you belong. Now do me a favour and get out - before your stench invades this entire library.”

- The man was either stunned into silence or embarrassed into silence - because his face turned red and he exited the room faster than a lightning bolt. Celeste turned back to face you.

- “Are you alright? Did that imbecile harm you in any way at all?”

- “No, I’m completely fine. Thanks for that, though. He was really overbearing.”

- “It was nothing.”

[words-writ-in-starlight]

Untamed TAZ Balance AU? Don't have to write anything, just consider that (is Wen Ning Lucretia in this or is he too nice for that)

NHS IS LUCRETIA, NHS IS ABSOLUTELY LUCRETIA, I HAVE THOUGHTS, my girlfriend yelled at me for these thoughts.  Hell this got long, I’ve literally been saving it in my drafts until Tumblr fixed the Read More issue.

WWX is Taako, JC is Magnus, WQ is Merle, JYL is in the umbrella (became a lich to keep her brother from doing it), WN is the Red Robe (became a lich because he thought it seemed reasonable), NHS is Lucretia, XXC is Davenport, LWJ and LXC are mutually Kravitz (LXC sets his bro up with the death criminal wizard), Wen Zhuliu is John Vore, LSZ is Angus but also a baby Reaper

ONE

So Wei Wuxian isn’t really a wizard, is the thing.  Like, he does the wizard magic, and apparently he has strong Wizard Vibes because wherever he travels, people ask him if he can solve their magical bullshit problems, but he’s, like, barely a wizard.  He’s an inventor, technically, except that a few years back some stuff went explosively awry while he worked with this traveling show and–yeah.  So he’s working as a wizard because, hey, he can cast Magic Missile and he needs to eat and he’s an Evocation specialist, anyway, so it’s not like he’s out here making food from rocks.  He’s hired on with a couple other random jackasses, a fighter who took a dislike to Wei Wuxian right off the bat and a cleric with a bad temper and an itchy Sacred Flame finger, and they’re doing a job for some dwarf, or whatever.  The dwarf has a guy hired on as muscle, but he doesn’t look like much, all wide eyes and baby face.  He calls himself Qionglin, no last name, and stares at Wen Qing like he’s never seen a cleric before, and Jiang Cheng spends the entire trip to Phandolin messing with his whip, which is the stupidest weapon Wei Wuxian has ever seen.

Well, then everything immediately goes horribly wrong, though, and turns out that Jiang Cheng is pretty okay with that whip.  Qionglin (Wei Wuxian spoke to the man all of one time, but he was sweet, if a little awkward) gets himself kidnapped by a bunch of goblins, and their employer is gods-know-where with whatever a Black Spider is, and suddenly this very boring escort mission is a very not boring rescue mission.

There’s a skeleton in the cave.  Wei Wuxian takes an umbrella from it, and it crumbles into dust beneath its red robe.  There’s a very annoyed man with a sword who calls himself Song Lan and speaks in static, and he’s somehow not the weirdest part of this whole day.

Phandolin doesn’t survive its brush with the Zidian Gauntlet, and neither does Qionglin.  Wen Qing screams when he dies, and Wei Wuxian grabs her under the arms with Jiang Cheng and books it for the empty well in Song Lan’s wake, and they just hide.  

And then they go to the goddamn moon, apparently.

TWO

The goddamn moon is run by an older man with hair still a glossy black, toying with a beautifully painted white fan in his hand.  He calls himself the Director and–after some testing–hires them more or less on the spot.  Something flickers over his face when Wen Qing, bemused by her own upset, makes an offhand mention of a man named Qionglin who died when the Gauntlet brought down so much lightning that it turned Phandolin into black glass.  But it’s not Wei Wuxian’s problem, so he doesn’t worry himself over it too much.  He takes the payment offered to him by the Director’s aide, a blindfolded, stunningly handsome man in Bureau blue and white who rests his hand on his own chest and says “Xiao Xingchen” and not another word.

The Bureau is–weird.  They’ve got a giant jellyfish and a store run by–something Wei Wuxian Does Not Trust and a dorm.  Wei Wuxian laughs and kicks Jiang Cheng cheerfully in the ankle and says “Just like college, huh?” and Jiang Cheng gives him a dark look and snaps “I never went to college.”

“Yeah,” Wei Wuxian says, blinking.  “Me neither.”

Whatever.  They go on a train adventure and there’s a kid, a kid who blinks and stares at Wei Wuxian like he’s seen a goddamn ghost and immediately walks up to introduce himself as Lan Sizhui, boy detective.

Wei Wuxian fucking loves this kid.  He’s not sure why this wide-eyed fifteen-year-old latched onto him so hard, but he’s smart, funny, loyal, and extremely easy to pick on.  13/10 child rating, in Wei Wuxian’s book.

(Sizhui, for his part, more or less kicks down the door to his father’s offices in the Astral Plane the second the Reclaimers are gone and shouts “I HAVE A LEAD ON WHAT HAPPENED TO THE WORLD.”)

(His father, Lan Wangji, the Grim Reaper, is very interested to hear all about it–especially when his son casually name-drops three of the biggest bounties that the Raven King, his adoptive elder brother, has ever sent him after, with the exception of that absolutely insufferably sweet-tempered lich Wen Ning.)

THREE

So…the Crystal Kingdom.

Is it Wei Wuxian’s finest hour, shouting obscure tentacle-related threats at the second crystal construct they’ve seen in the past twenty minutes?  No, probably not.  But it’s been a stressful day, they’re already down one Regulator and Song Lan is fuck-knows-where with Mianmian and, again, this is the second menacing crystal construct they’ve seen in twenty minutes.  Or maybe it’s the same one? 

Whatever, doesn’t matter.  They’re here to hunt down Meng Yao, a scientist who’s been dicking around with some seriously ill-advised necromancy and also the Philosopher’s Stone, and a crystal construct or two isn’t going to stop them.

Wei Wuxian actually physically cannot help himself, though, when the Reapers appear in the mirror, a matched set of beautiful men, and he grins broadly at the one glaring at him most viciously.  They get let go on a technicality, along with a conduit still containing Meng Shi’s memory of a vision beyond the cosmos, and Meng Yao leaves with his life and not much more.

Later, Lan Wangji is absolutely betrayed by the realization that his brother willfully set him up to be the primary go-between for the completely breathtaking deeply irritating wizard-by-way-of-death-criminal.  And that’s before the whole lich revelation.  (He does get a kiss, though, after he watches his brother pulled under by the Hunger.  That’s nice.  He hopes Wei Wuxian will mitigate the death crimes now that they’re dating.)

FOUR

The seven Relics are as follows:

The Zidian Gauntlet, which can generate a lightning blast so powerful that it can obliterate an entire city.  (Jiang Cheng–he watched the others try to lay in protections, try to make their Relics harmless, and he knew it wouldn’t work.  All the Gauntlet does is damage.  It can melt a city down to black glass, but it can’t be twisted, it can’t be made into any more of a nightmare than it already is.  He’s a fighter.  He knows all about damage, knew all about what he was making.  That doesn’t mean it didn’t kill him by inches to watch it leave a path of destruction–so much that his beloved jiejie tried to seal it away.)

The Oculus, which can make any construct real.  (Xiao Xingchen–Nie Huaisang didn’t take everything.  He doesn’t remember the mission, or his own past.  Something strange got confused in the process, and he lost most of his speech.  But he remembers how to fight, handles his sword as cleanly and effectively as ever, and he remembers that he doesn’t think much of Nie Huaisang’s combat skills.  Or maybe it’s just really obvious that Nie Huaisang isn’t much of a fighter.  Regardless, Xiao Xingchen insisted on accompanying him, before–before.  Then they went into the Felicity Wilds, and…Xue Yang is honestly delighted.  He’s never managed to ruin someone so badly on the way into Wonderland before.  It’s just a shame that Nie Huaisang sent Xiao Xingchen away before they reached the doors.)

The Healer’s Sash, which can manipulate natural forces like the wind, the tides, and tectonic plates just as easily as it can manipulate a heartbeat or a pair of lungs.  (Wen Qing–she prays to Pelor, the Dawnfather, the healer and Lord of Light, but she’s long since lost her faith in him as anything but a contracted boss.  It’s a shock to everyone including her when she’s granted a right arm made of glass and magic after losing it.  She was so determined to make a Relic that could be used for good, but–well.  She supposes she should have known better.)

The Philosopher’s Stone, which can more or less transform anything into anything.  (Jiang Yanli–she’s a Transmutation wizard, she’s been feeding the crew of the Starblaster for a hundred years on whatever she can pull together.  If the right person found the Stone, it would have ended world hunger.  The wrong person found the stone.  Jiang Yanli tried her damnedest to hunt it down, but she found the Gauntlet first, and, well–she already became a lich to stop one younger brother from doing it.  It’s not a struggle to decide that she’s going to take responsibility for saving Jiang Cheng from his own guilt.  Then things go horribly wrong, and she spends the next twelve years in an umbrella.)

The Temporal Chalice, which offers complete control over time.  (Wen Ning–he was a strict scholar until his sister was contacted about the IPRE’s creation, but he always did want to travel, and his theories about bonds were too good for Xiao Xingchen to pass up having on his crew.  Everything he’s done since they lost their home system has been about trying not to leave his family, about trying for second chances, he became a lich for them, he’s done everything to stay with them, of course his Relic is a second chance generator.)

The Animus Flute, which offers control over the spirits of the dead and, in the hands of a sufficiently competent expert, the living.  (Wei Wuxian–he’s watched his brother, his sister, his friends, die so many times.  He’s terrified of immortality, but he’s most terrified of being alone.  He meant to make something that could keep the dead present, so that they would never have to fear being left behind again.  Watching it rip Jiang Cheng’s soul clean out of his body in Xue Yang’s hands is the worst thing Wei Wuxian can remember, even after everything is over.)

The Bulwark, which Nie Huaisang never did explain to anyone, but took the shape of a hand-painted fan.  (Nie Huaisang lost the only person who mattered to him when the Hunger ate their home, and then as he slowly, painstakingly, rebuilt something like a family, he had to watch them suffer and die for a hundred years.  And then he watched them win, and grieve like dying all over again for the winning.  He’s sorry they suffered for his actions.  He’s not sorry for what he did.)

FIVE

Wen Zhuliu didn’t mean to make his whole plane give up.  But he had spent his whole life being used, and it all just seemed so pointless.  It all just seemed so pointless.  There was always someone stronger, always something bigger, always a rule he couldn’t break, always something, and he started talking, started telling people as much, and--

Wen Qing is about the farthest thing in the fucking world from a peacemaker by nature, if you ask her, but she’s a healer first, last, and most of all.  And, she thinks as she watches the sun sink with a very tired man crumbling away at her side, she might be the only person in the worlds who ever noticed that Wen Zhuliu needed a healer.

(They aren’t from the same plane, but--some of the others have found distant family, on their new home.  It’s an unanswerable question, if they might have been family, a few dimensions removed.  Wen Ning still thinks about it.)

[neon-junkie]

reader is in a relationship with Micah but feels like he doesn’t really care about them, so they break up with him, but he did care and they just completely broke his heart

:( :( :( gender-neutral reader as always 

"Micah," you sigh. "We gotta talk." "'Bout what?" he asks, his eyes still down on his knife, barely paying any attention to you. "You said you'd come bed an hour ago," you tell him. "I been busy," Micah tells you. "Sharpening your knife? For the tenth time today? It's sharp, Micah, stop findin' excuses," you huff, crossing your arms, stood next to him whilst he sits at the campfire. "I just wanna make sure of it, alright?" Micah says as he looks over the blade. "You do this every single day. Of course it's sharp!" 

"Alright, alright. No need to get in a huff," Micah tells you as he puts his knife away, chucking the whetstone to the floor. He finally looks up at you. "Why don'tcha come here?" Micah asks you, patting his lap as he puts his hands out. "No, Micah. You ain't paid any attention to me since we got together," you scoff at him, slapping his hand away from you. "Easy there," Micah raises his hands innocently. "What you mean I ain't paid attention to ya? I kiss you every damn day, don't I?" "Is that it? You think your sweetheart just needs a kiss every day and they'll be fine?" you scoff. There's really no getting through to this man. Why are you even bothering? "You know I spend time with ya when I can-" "-When you can? Micah! You got all the time in the world yet you waste it sharpening the same damn knife over and over," you scoff, cutting him off. "Look, I'm fed up of this." "Fed up of what?" Micah asks, squinting his eyes at you as he rests his hands on his thighs. "Of this. Of you. You don't give a shit about me. Before we got together you were all over me, makin' me feel good, like I'm the only person you care about. But now we're together you don't bother at all. You.." you pause, shaking your head as you pace back and forth, trying to not cry in front of him. How dare you waste tears over this boy. "Sweetheart?" Micah questions. "No, I ain't your sweetheart, Micah," you tell him as you stop pacing, turning to face him, staring down at him. "I'm clearly just someone that you enjoyed flirting with and accidentally got caught up in. That's why you ain't bothered since we got together. This was clearly just meant to be a bit of fun for you," you sigh, shaking your head. "This is done, we're done. I'm goin' bed, goodnight." You storm off, finally going to bed, heading over to what was your shared tent, despite Micah only ever stepping foot in it to fuck you. Your back is turned to him so you don't see his jaw drop and his heart shatter, because to your surprise, Micah actually did really care about you. Micah is one of those few men who has never actually been in a relationship. He's had his fair share of partners but never tied down to anyone. You were the first and only one, and honestly... he has no idea what he's doing. Micah assumed that once you were together then ta-da! It's all good, right? You can continue to flirt and fuck here and there, but Micah doesn't realize the problems that come alongside it, the communication and trust that you have to perfectly balance. He's questioned it before, about whether he should tell you how inexperienced he is, how he doesn't know what he's doing. But Micah did what Micah does best; assume he's fine and carry on. He swatted away those feelings just like he does with all other ones, though he eventually chose to ignore them when they started to come back. He didn't do that with his feeling for you though, he swatted them away the first few times, but was quick to realize that damn, he's has fallen for you, and it seems you have too. It was hard for him not to. He started off with a few innocent flirtatious marks here and there, expecting rejection just like the rest of the camp, but his face turned as red as his shirt the second you flirted back. He tried to smooth talk his way in there, but it seems those butterflies in his stomach got the best of him and you were left with a heavily blushing, stuttering Micah Bell. So what did you do? You continued to flirt, straight to his face, telling him what a handsome man he is, how you'd love for him to take you into town some time, or sit on his lap during a game of poker. "I-I... Y-yeah, sweetheart. We can do those things," Micah managed to stutter back to you. You made an excuse after and left him in a pool of his own sweat, mentally beating himself up for being such an embarrassment. But later on that night you found him having a game of five finger fillet with Arthur and of course, you just had to trail over. "Look at you go, Micah. You're gonna make poor Arthur here bleed to death," you said as you approached. "Oh? You think I'm good?" Micah asked you, narrowly missing his finger as you distracted him. Arthur squinted his eyes at him; it's unlike Micah to not be a smug bastard. "More than good, Micah. You seem so skilled with them hands," you say, your hand lightly resting on his shoulder as you watch him. "They can do a lot more than play with knives, sweetheart," Micah told you. "You should show me sometime." "I could show you now." Arthur quickly left, not wanting to watch you take a seat on Micahs lap as his confidence and ego finally returned to him. After that, the two of you continued to openly flirt around camp. Most of the camp members had pulled you aside to question your intentions and to warn you about that man, but you saw past his rough and sarcastic exterior. Or you thought you did. The second you got together, his cheesy flirting stopped. And now you're here, sobbing in bed as you allowed yourself to get caught up in another generic no-good outlaw. Micah, on the other hand, had gone for a walk around camp, head hunched down, brows furrowed, trying to decide who to blame. Had you been too demanding? Too needy? Too annoying? No. Not at all. Micah picked away at all your time together since becoming a couple and he couldn't find one single flaw. He loved having someone be clingy towards him, he loved that feeling of being wanted and adored. At first, it made him feel sick, only because it was such a new and foreign feeling that he didn't realize what was going on at first. But eventually, he realized what it was, and those sickly feelings became normal, no longer making him queasy. He leans against a tree. The first thing that comes to mind is that he should distract himself by cleaning his guns, but the image of you telling him off for it springs to mind. He can't help that he finds peace in cleaning his weapons; it's a damn good distraction, but he falls back on it too easily. Instead, Micah just looks out at his surroundings, the moon acting as the only source of light in the forest. For once, he watches the leaves fall and the night critters move about. He's so used to violence and confrontation that he's never really just stood and admired the earth. It's not his cup of tea, but he's sure you'd enjoy it. Micah knows you'd enjoy watching the earth turn with him by your side. He knows you'd love to cuddle up against him as you watch the river flow and the birds fly overhead. That's all he needed to do, take you out to do the things you enjoy. Maybe in those calmer settings, he'll be able to open up to you about not really knowing what to do in a relationship or how to communicate. And with time, maybe he'll learn how to communicate, using those calm settings as a good environment to bring up any current problems. It's hard to get riled up and argue when the skies are blue and the earth is happy, he knows you definitely won't, and he'd feel embarrassed getting worked up and causing a scene when there's no need to. Would he? Micah realizes that's the first time he's ever thought that. Micah realizes that he's just solved his relationship issues by having some alone time and letting his mind wander in a calm way, a way that you would. Micah realizes that he should probably go and apologize to you. After all, the way you make Micah feel is... well, there's no words for it, because Micah can't quite put his finger on it. He's never felt it before, and he's grown up believing that he'll never feel it, so there's no point thinking about it. But then you came along and chucked all his father's teachings out the window just with the way you look at him. So off he goes, making his way back to camp. He takes a deep breath, clearing his throat as he gets closer to your tent and... oh, you're crying. Micah feels his heart sink. He's the cause of this. The anger comes flooding back, but not at you, at himself, for allowing himself to hurt you like this. He's an idiot, isn't he? A reckless and chaotic man who'll never be able to change. Micah wants to walk away, he wants to escape the way he's made you feel so he can shoot a few strangers and pretend he's all better. But he doesn't. Micah stands outside your tent, stuck on standby as he questions what the hell he should do, and how the hell he should do it. Should he go inside and try to win you back? Or storm away and put his walls back up that you managed to break down?

[struwwelzeter]

Because i miss your design themed rants (it is good word here) i would like you to rank Rammstein album covers from designers point of view.

Ah, I love you. This got VERY ranty.

This is kinda hard because I tend to judge the entire packagaing/notes, and when I count that into it the ranking would be ever so slightly different. I’ll mention it for each I have Opinions (TM) on, but yeah, this is solely going on cover. I’ll only do the studio albums, not made in germany or the DVDs, or this will get too big.

7th: Rosenrot.

I know lots of you are gonna hate me for this. It’s not that I don’t like it, I do, it’s beautiful. Unfortunately it’s ... slightly lazy. It’s I think their most obvious cover and obvious feels like it’s good design but never truly is. It’s got that first idea feel, if that makes any sense. There is always that project where you go “uh can’t think of anything, but this works.” It’s not a bad thing, they clearly still knew what they were doing. It’s just ... that typical photoshop post apocalyptic composit that lost of metal/alternative bands did at some point. They all did it because it’s cool. No argument there. It’s just that I expect a bit ... more.

6th: Herzeleid

I know it’s iconic, but. The execution?! Terrible. The colours of their skin and that flower?! Too different to feel monochromatic, to same same to contrast nicely. Too much texture. What is that?! The positive bit is the placement of the typography because, neat! Most people fail at that. I like the blue-grey there aswell, how about you’d added that to their skin a little? No? Ok.

Also, this (Richard speaking):

“The bloody sleeve! What a crazy situation that was. We approved the photos in a car park without thinking what we were letting ourselves in for. When we saw what the designer had done, we freaked! We looked so… gay! All of us stripped to the waist. It was like an ad for a gay porno film. So we had to say, sort it out. Make us look straight again. Change the sleeve.”

Who in the fuck works like this?! Nevermind, I know it was a considerably younger Dirk Rudolph, but fucking hell, have some self respect, all of you. I know they didn’t know what they were doing, they probably had the management/record company comission it, and that was still the time graphic designers were seen as just pixel pushers from that time it took 3 days to layout a poster. Still. What was that brief?! Could you have sat down for 20 minutes and talk, perhaps?! Also, I hope this is how Richie learned to be the nightmare client I know he is. Don’t approve layouts in a car park, what the fuck is wrong with you.

It’s a pity because the concept? Nice. Sculpted men infront of flowers, what else do you want from life. Why crysanthemes, tho? Too textured in that macro shot. What is that photo angle?! Might try and redo that if I ever feel like it.

5th: Reise, Reise

This breaks my heart a little, because it’s my lonely island album. And it isn’t bad by any stretch. Actually, their album cover game is ridiculous, can I have that established as a general benchmark? It would make for a lot less mental break downs. The thing is ... I like the idea. Make it look like the black box, cool. The problem is the type. It makes it look like “Flugrekorder Nicht Öffnen” is the album title. To be fair, Typesetting is my main thing, and album artists get it wrong (imo) 99 out of 100 times. I wish they would have comitted more and just left the titel off and solved it with a slide in, or a sticker or something like that. It’s just a bit ... weird. What works brilliantly is that it’s very memorable, stands out on the shelf, is unusual, all of that. It’s iconic. I do like it very much but I had to place something here.

4th: Liebe ist für alle da

Now the thing with that album is that it has two covers. If I’d gone by the original one, I’d have to place it behind Reise, Reise. Everything RR has in impact, this is missing. It’s too dark, has too many pieces, it won’t stand out on a shelf. Especially not in the CD age when it was on 12x12 cm. Even on a Vinyl, it’s ... just not that impactful. Sure, the photograph is beautiful but meh. Luckily there is a second option. And that - is almost like a logo. It works as a symbol, and that makes it so strong. Less is more. Brilliant. You can draw it from memory. It’s so iconic, the kind of stuff that starts showing up in subways, drawn on the back of a seat and sprayed on walls. Tell me you never wanted to paint that on a flag and take it to a pride parade. I am sure some of us have.

I do want to mention the booklet in this, because it does bump it up a little too, because where the panorama image fails as a cover, the inside is done so beautifully with the fold out, the type setting, everything. It’s special, and done with love and it shows.

3rd: Mutter

There is just something about this that is so, so, so memorable. Everyone recognises this. If you ask anyone over the age of 20 to describe Rammstein with an album cover only to someone less familiar, is anyone gonna say anything but “they’re the band with the embryo in close up”?! Maybe this is subjective because that’s how I first got exposed to them, but I don’t think so. It’s such a powerful image. It’s both beautiful and uncomfortable, the way Rammstein as a whole and that album in particular is beautiful and uncomfortable. It’s stunning. That’s it. Unfortunately, this one falls apart inside. The went too far with the whole Matrix inspired cyber elements. It’s trendy and trendy never stands the test of time, in that it has the same problem Rosenrot has, but much worse because it’s not even done that well. They could have just used the photos and kept it raw. The type setting on the cover is as good as it gets with albums tho, so I am happy.

2nd: Sehnsucht

Ah, Sehnsucht. The most perfect band shoot they ever had. Helnwein just ... did it. I don’t know, it both defined and summed up who they are aesthetically for the longest time. It’s the visual statement that says “this is Rammstein”. It ... just looks like a band that sings about heartbreak and necrophilia is supposed to look like. Don’t you agree? How else would it look like? Even that omniously coloured beach. It’s as if the predicted the mood of True Detective, only less Hollywood. That darkness we don’t want to see, that can happen anywhere. And where they fell short with Mutter, where they added too much on to these powerful images, they just added the type. Granted, it was the 90s so it’s slightly experimental type. But unlike most type in the 90s it stood the test of time. Add the whole variable cover versions and chefs kiss! Beautiful work. Makes me happy and emotional and ugh.

1st: The White Album

I’m just calling it that now. The Matchstick. You know, good design is made up from three components only: Concept. Commitment. Execution. The concept of this is so streamlined and clean. It’s the entire Rammstein story narrowed down to a single little thing. It’s small and ordinary looking but it can become dangerous and big. It’s underestimated. A little piece of wood with a head of phosphor and calium chlorit and yet you can commit the most legendary arson. It’s the personification of the thing that has become synonymous with them: Fire. It says so much with so little. And then they comitted to that. No useless typography, a simple but oh so well done photoshoot, the simple text on white. They didn’t ad too much additional ideas on to it, they trusted that one to carry and it does. They could have done without the black and white match stick arrangements inside, although I’m not even sure if that’s not just a limited edition thing, it’s a bit too much almost. They got scared a little there. The execution is also well done, I have very little to critique, only that I feel it lacks a tiny bit of love. The thing is, the more minimalist you go, the more love you have to put into each element. I feel like the spacing of the type should have been fixed in a few places but honestly that is being very very picky. Or not. Because if it wasn’t for that, and the teeeeny tiny commitment issue, this should have been a candidate for the packaging grammy. I mean it should be even the way it is, but we all know how those fuckers ignore our boys.

I’m done. Can I use this as application? Do you think if I send them a run down of basically tearing them apart they will hire me?

[poppy-pelican]

Holding Out (Makes It Better) - fic

Rating: Explicit (because of course it is)

Fandom: Fullmetal Alchemist

Summary: “Why don’t we make a…competition of it?” Roy said, standing up like he was going to give orders. “A…team building exercise, if you will.” His eyes drifted to Hawkeye, giving her a meaningful look that he hoped conveyed: back me up on this or else.

OR

Mustang's team bonds over who can keep from touching themselves the longest.

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26021110

“While I trust my team, I have been noticing…” Roy hesitated, adjusting the phone against his ear.

“A lack of cohesion?” Hughes offered.

Much more diplomatic than sibling rivalry. Roy had recently been granted permission to choose officers for his own team—a sure sign a promotion was on the way this year. But the last time they had to work together as a unit, Hawkeye and Havoc disagreed on tactics, Falman kept piping in with more information than necessary, Breda was too easy going and let the others walk all over him, and Fuery hunkered down like a child whose parents were fighting.

It felt wrong to go to Hughes for help, but Hughes had a way of forming tight-knit groups with ease. While Roy could say his team members trusted him, they certainly did not trust each other.

“Yes, exactly,” Roy said.

“It can take time,” Hughes said. “But you could try some team building exercises?”

“Is that what you do?”

Hughes was muffled for a minute. It sounded like he was kissing Gracia. Again. Roy sighed. The man was impossibly shameless.

“Ah, yes, that’s what I do. Something that loosens them up—you have to get them comfortable with one another.”

“Can you be more specific?”

More suspicious giggling and kissing noises again. “I dunno, play a game. Have a friendly competition?”

A team building exercise. Roy was going to have to sit on that one.

Another giggle. “And that’s my cue, you crazy exhibitionist! Goodnight!” Roy yelled, hanging up the phone forcefully.

 *

 A couple weeks later, Roy had almost forgotten about Hughes’s idea. The office was silent except for the quiet hum of his officers at work. Then Hawkeye excused herself, and suddenly the men were talking and joking. Oh. His intimidating lieutenant. The men were afraid of her.

He couldn’t blame them. Hadn’t she terrified him a little even as a young girl? She’d always been a little too serious, watchful and quiet. But of everyone in his team, he trusted her the most. Maybe he should consider Hughes’s idea again. He wanted them all to trust her as much as he did, and see the fun side of her that made him like her so much.

Then he tuned into what his men were actually saying.

“And you’d just had sex the night before? What’s wrong with you?” Falman said, laughing.

“It’s relaxing!” Havoc insisted. “It’s a daily ritual kind of thing. Takes the edge off.”

“Daily? I can manage once a week, easy, especially with a woman in my life,” Falman insisted.

Breda chuckled. “I’m not like Havoc, but I prefer more often, even with a girlfriend helping me out.”

“See, Breda supports me!”

“I still wouldn’t be doing it the morning after a night with my girlfriend!” Breda said, slapping the desk and laughing boisterously.

Roy’s brow furrowed. Were they talking about what he thought?

“I don’t think I’ve been able to go more than a week since I hit puberty,” Havoc said. “I’m a healthy young man.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Roy finally interrupted.

“Havoc’s girlfriend—now ex-girlfriend—walked in on him…you know,” Fuery offered, his face bright red.

Roy snorted, happy to ignore his paperwork to tease Havoc. “What? You forget how to lock a door?”

Havoc turned red. “It was early in the morning! I thought she was asleep.”

“Clearly, she awoke frustrated. Did you even take care of her needs, Havoc?” Roy couldn’t stop himself from asking.

“I always leave my woman satisfied,” Havoc growled.

“Maybe if you weren’t molesting yourself every day, you’d have more passion for your girlfriend,” Breda pointed out. “Pace yourself, man.”

“I could go without it if I needed to. You all would crack long before me if it were a contest.” Havoc crossed his arms, the picture of perfect confidence.

“You think so?” a feminine voice challenged.

Hawkeye stood in the doorway, her face expressionless.

“How long have you been standing there, lieutenant?” Roy asked, noting he wasn’t the only man in the office vainly attempting to play it cool. While Hawkeye was as good a soldier as anyone, probably better, this kind of crude conversation always starkly reminded everyone she was a woman as much as a soldier.

Hawkeye strolled over to her desk. “Long enough to know I shouldn’t set Havoc up with any of my friends.”

The men guffawed and cheered, except for Havoc who collapsed on his desk. And that’s when Roy realized he had an opportunity.

“Why don’t we make a…competition of it?” Roy said, standing up like he was going to give orders. “A…team building exercise, if you will.” His eyes drifted to Hawkeye, giving her a meaningful look that he hoped conveyed: back me up on this or else.

“What do you mean, sir?” Hawkeye asked, everything from her eyebrow to her stiff shoulders giving away her heavy skepticism.

“Who can hold out the longest?” Roy said, tapping his chin. “Havoc has made quite the challenge to the rest of us.”

Havoc sat up straight. “I could definitely outlast all of you. I am a disciplined sniper.”

“So is Hawkeye,” Falman said.

“Is Hawkeye participating?” Fuery asked, his cheeks now the color of a strawberry.

This was just more evidence Hughes was right. The team needed to get more comfortable with one another—particularly with their lone female officer. They needed to fear who Hawkeye was as a soldier, not as a woman.

Roy turned to his lieutenant, gesturing for her to answer. All eyes were on her. She gave Roy a steely look before rolling her eyes. “Sure, I’m in.”

“Wait, wait, wait. Is that fair?” Havoc asked. “Women can naturally hold out longer than men.”

Roy told himself not to think about how often Hawkeye was pleasuring herself as he answered.

“All right, not holding out the longest, but who can hold out until a certain date,” he amended.

“How long?” Breda asked. “And does sex count?”

Roy began to pace the floor, his mind flowing with ideas. He was going to have to make up a chart. And they needed strict rules. It could be very unofficially official. Hughes would be proud.

“Sex will count. What seems a reasonable goal?” he asked, tossing the problem out for his team to solve. He could admit he was more like Breda and indulged himself several times a week. The idea of holding out for more than a week sounded like a small torture, but just a week wouldn’t be challenging enough.

“Two weeks,” Havoc proposed.

“Two weeks? What a flimsy challenge,” Falman said. “I’ll crush you.”

“Three?” Fuery suggested, though he made a face as he said it.

Breda looked around, studying his teammates and superior officer with a critical gaze. Roy wondered if he was sizing up the competition. Roy was already sweating at the idea of two weeks. Three would be unbearable.

“Three sounds reasonable,” Falman agreed.

“But perhaps a tad too easy,” Breda said, rubbing his hand over his short hair. “A month would be a challenge for everyone, wouldn’t it?” Gazes flickered to Hawkeye, who sat primly with her hands folded on her desk, like this was any old team meeting. She would destroy them all.

“A month it is,” Roy said.

“What do we get if we win?” Hawkeye asked, still diplomatic. Her lips pulled into a tiny smile. “It needs to be worth the trouble, right? But not so much that anyone would be tempted to cheat.”

“So money’s out,” Breda said decisively, and the others agreed with surprising speed. A soldier’s pension was laughably meager, especially for anyone lower on the totem pole. Roy knew he was fortunate to have a state alchemist’s funding, but it had come with strings attached.

“I’ve got it!” Roy said, grinning. “We have two teams. And we do it for the honor of winning.”

“That could work,” Hawkeye said thoughtfully.

Then began a debate that lasted twenty minutes on who would be on which team. Everyone wanted to be on Hawkeye’s team, but the competition needed to be as strong as possible. Based purely on personality, rather than any real data, it was finally decided that Mustang’s team would have Falman and Breda, while Hawkeye’s opposing team included Fuery and Havoc. If she thought it was unfair, she didn’t say so.

 #

 Riza thought the entire competition was unfair. She knew what her ridiculous superior was thinking. The men were uncomfortable with her, and her participating in their stupid contest would help. Maybe it would, maybe it wouldn’t, but she was annoyed.

Perhaps she was different from other women because she touched herself every night to help her fall asleep. It started a few months after returning from Ishval when she discovered her nightmares improved if she relaxed with happy—dirty—thoughts before bed.

But she was a disciplined sniper, she could hold off for a month. She just didn’t want to.

She slipped into the t-shirt she wore to bed and then did a few stretches she’d read would help her maintain her mobility despite the extensive scarring on her back. The tightness of her skin across those two patches had become as normal as the tug of her hair clips, but she needed to have full motion whenever she acted as Mustang’s bodyguard.

She finished with a few last neck stretches before she rolled into bed, turning off the lamp before she snuggled under the covers. Realizing this would be the last time to touch herself until the competition ended, she decided to take more time with it than she usually would. Tugging her underwear down, she slipped one hand between her thighs, the other hand crept underneath her shirt.

If she were honest with herself, she wanted to replay Mustang’s passionate, definitely inappropriate, brainstorming session. How he could sound so calm and professional while discussing masturbation in front of his team, she didn’t know, but even with the almost clinical nature of it, she’d felt warm and achy listening to him speak.

She wondered if he was a dirty talker in the bedroom, and she found herself falling over the edge much too quickly, thinking of what he might whisper against her ear while he thrusted in and out of her.

With a pleased sigh, she wriggled her underwear back into place and fell immediately into a deep sleep.

 #

 The next morning at the office, Riza was horrified to find a chalkboard had been rolled into the room. Mustang’s sharp handwriting had filled in a surprisingly vague chart with two columns for each team. Beside each team member’s name was a place to mark them out. At the bottom of the chart he’d written out the end date in bold lettering. She pressed her lips together. Thirty days had never seemed so long.

But as the men started arriving, she put on her poker face. She had to pretend this wasn’t a hardship whatsoever.

There was very little discussion about the competition. The first day should be a breeze, so no one expected anyone to crack so soon. They had a meeting about a possible money laundering case coming from Grumman, which would be a great opportunity to prove themselves as an efficient new team. Then Riza left for a committee on recruitment she attended as Mustang’s representative. It was such a humdrum, typical day that by the time work was over, she almost forgot about the competition entirely. She went to the library, cooked dinner, called Rebecca to chat, began reading one of the books she borrowed…

It wasn’t until she was dressing for bed that she remembered. She groaned, flopping onto the bed in frustration. The fact she shouldn’t touch herself just made her want to even more. Cursing Mustang under her breath, she turned off the lamp and lay stiffly in the dark, failing to relax.

It was hours later before she finally fell asleep.

 #

 The second day of the competition and Roy already had regrets. He woke up with an erection, as often happened in the mornings, but this time he had to wait for the damn thing to go away on its own.

His regrets grew when Falman came into the office, red-faced and staring at the ground. He strode straight to the chalkboard and drew an X beside his name.

“What! You’re already out?” Havoc crowed.

“Really, Falman, I’m disappointed in you,” Roy said, shaking his head. Now it was just him and Breda. “Do you at least have a good excuse?”

Falman saluted. “The new neighbor next to my apartment must have had her boyfriend over, sir. She was…very loud and enthusiastic.”

Roy grimaced. “Dismissed.” He could understand why a man would be tempted, but with his discipline as a soldier being tested…it was disappointing. He glanced over at Hawkeye and Havoc who were sharing a laugh—probably at Falman’s expense.

Falman was at his desk, determinedly reading a report. Roy look over at Breda who raised a fist in solidarity. Just the two of them against Hawkeye, Havoc, and Fuery. It was going to be a long month.

 #

 By day seven, Roy spent every morning talking down his erection, and giving himself quick, cold showers. The temptation was growing intolerable. What kind of stupid team building exercise was this! Certainly the dumbest idea he’d ever had. Rather than fostering teamwork, everyone, except Falman, was snappy and irritable. Even Hawkeye, which Roy found wonderfully intriguing. No, he definitely couldn’t spend time dwelling on that can of worms.

“I’m going to the shooting range if anyone wants to join me,” Hawkeye announced suddenly. “Havoc, Fuery,” her lips curved upward, “A gun is a good way to…release some tension.”

Chairs squeaked and knocked around as the men dropped everything to join her, everyone laughing as Falman waved them off good-naturedly. The smug bastard.

Hawkeye was fierce on the shooting range, only Havoc coming close to her level—and still well below it. Roy took a turn, but found himself stepping back to watch as the men cheered and clapped whenever she hit another seemingly impossible target. Roy knew Hawkeye took little pride in her skill after the war, but it was good for the men to respect her ability. Judging by the way young Fuery gaped in amazement, maybe the team building exercise wasn’t a total bust.

Roy stayed quiet on their walk back to the office, listening to the men pepper her with questions. Hawkeye answered them succinctly, without boasting, about her skills and how she had honed them growing up shooting cans and one time, a rather rotten pumpkin.

Roy remembered the pumpkin story as her father had told it, and he noted that Hawkeye didn’t mention him—or Roy for that matter. It gave him pause. Did she not want the men knowing of their history? He supposed as his subordinate, she probably preferred to put forward her merits rather than her connections. Funny, because Roy would never have become a state alchemist without her, and he likewise kept that a secret—for different reasons.

 #

 Riza was exhausted, which she would’ve thought would help her fall asleep. Instead, she tossed and turned, body restless. As soon as she found the edge of sleep, she jerked awake.

“Mustang, you idiot,” she groaned, punching her pillow. She couldn’t lose this competition, even if it meant a month of sleep deprivation. Twisted in her sheets, she was oh-so-tempted to give in, especially as she remembered the way Mustang had removed his jacket at the shooting range, only his white button-up shirt on. Thank goodness she was already at the range, she had had a lot of tension to release.

Punching her pillow again, she gave up an turned on the light, pulling out a book. She read until she passed out.

 #

 Riza wasn’t the only one on edge that night, and in the morning Havoc did the walk of shame to the chalkboard, scribbling an angry X beside his name.

Mustang hadn’t arrived yet, it was just Hawkeye and Fuery.

“What happened?” Fuery asked. Hawkeye noticed he was gnawing his fingernails raw.

Havoc covered his eyes dramatically. “My girlfriend wanted me back. How could I say no after—after—”

“Oh we all know after what,” Hawkeye said darkly. “I’m sure you lasted two seconds.”

“Hawkeye!” Havoc gasped, appalled.

Fuery collapsed on his desk, giggling helplessly.

“You deserve it,” she said. “Some of us are still suffering.”

“Come on, are you really suffering?” Havoc asked sarcastically.

Riza crossed her arms, giving him a hard look. This could really backfire on her.

She sighed, giving an embarrassed shrug as she focused on the notes in front of her. “I…use it to relax and fall asleep.” A timely yawn escaped her.

Havoc and Fuery each looked equally incredulous.

“Hawkeye! You were supposed to be a sure thing!” Havoc moaned. “We can’t lose to the boss!”

“You’re the one who claimed to have so much restraint and brought this whole thing down on us,” she reminded him.

“That is true,” Fuery agreed.

“Well, you could’ve worked your Hawkeye magic and talked him out of it,” Havoc muttered.

“I don’t have magic. If I did, the lieutenant colonel would get his work done more efficiently,” she said, feeling flattered despite herself. “And don’t worry. I have no intention of losing.”

Suddenly Havoc gawked at her. “Damn, you do look really tired. How—how often do you use it to sleep?”

Hawkeye realized she wouldn’t get any work done until she answered.

 #

 “Every night!” Havoc’s outburst was the first thing Roy heard as he walked in the door. He almost dropped the files he’d been carrying.

“Shh!” Hawkeye and Fuery frantically shushed, and Roy was immediately suspicious.

“What’s every night?” he asked. He was already on edge. It felt like once an hour his cock was at half mast, but hell if he was going to lose so quickly.

“Just talking about Havoc and his failure as a disciplined soldier,” Hawkeye said smoothly. Her eyes were playful, but Havoc looked betrayed—no, overwhelmed. Hawkeye was a good liar. Havoc was not.

Deciding to pursue it later, he set to work. The money laundering case was their first big assignment, and they needed it to go smoothly. Grumman had given him an early morning briefing, plus a stack of files, with instruction to investigate as Roy saw fit. Any other time, he would’ve been positively gleeful—except for the fact his mood was apparently controlled by his dick.

After teasing Havoc mercilessly, Roy settled down at his desk, plotting how to end this competition. None of them would have to go for the full month if one team gave up first. But of course, Mustang had too much pride. He didn’t want to purposefully lose.

He’d just have to figure out how to crack his adjutant, whose mood had been notably altered by the competition, too. Maybe she wasn’t an insurmountable challenge after all.

Fuery would be easy.

 #

 “This is for you,” Fuery said, dropping a packet of papers on Riza’s desk. His cheeks were red, and he spoke very tersely.

Riza looked at the packet closer and saw there was a note scribbled on top: THESE ARE SAFER WITH YOU. FOUND THEM IN MY DESK AFTER LUNCH. I THINK WE ARE BEING SABOTAGED.

Riza picked up the packet and realized it was actually a selection of raunchy photographs of mostly nude female models. She narrowed her eyes, her gaze drifting over the men of the office. It was rather obvious what was happening. Mustang and Breda were struggling, and they wanted Hawkeye and Fuery to go out first. And young Fuery was hanging on by a hair. She couldn’t guess what they thought would work on her. She did a quick search of her desk, not finding any naked pictures of men.

Well, she could play that game, too.

She wrote a quick note to Fuery, telling him to make an excuse and step out for a break. It was time to retaliate.

As soon as Fuery was gone, Riza shuffled the photos, clicking her tongue. She walked over to Mustang’s desk and fanned the photographs across his desk.

“This contraband has turned up in the office, sir,” she said. “Should I write up an official report and turn it in?”

Mustang’s dark eyes grew piercing. Ah, he hadn’t expected this. Good.

“I’m sure something as small as this isn’t worth your time to make a report about,” he said smoothly.

Riza nodded, watching from the corner of her eye as Falman paled. Yes, as she thought. Breda and Mustang wouldn’t go near any kind of temptation. They sent the man who was already out.

“It would be a long report,” she said agreeably. “I’d have to catalogue each photograph, describing each one. What if any of these women are soldiers? This could be blackmail.” She made a show of appearing conflicted. “I don’t think we should skip reporting this, sir.”

Mustang glowered. He knew she knew. He just didn’t want to back down.

“See this one?” she asked, pointing to one she’d left displayed most prominently. “Doesn’t she look a little like Private Jennison?” A young soldier whose breasts were so large, Riza pitied her a little. Jennison had to have all her uniforms specially tailored. But Riza also knew every man in East City’s military knew the woman by name.

“Who looks like Private Jennison?” Havoc asked eagerly.

Mustang tried to hide the photos too late as Havoc rushed over.

“Holy shit, these are amazing.” Havoc roared, grabbing the pictures. “These must be killing you, boss.”

Mustang tilted his face to the ceiling. “I am being punished for trying to strategize.”

“What?” Havoc looked between Riza and Mustang.

“Fuery found these in his desk after lunch.” Riza turned on her heel, smiling deviously at Falman and Breda.

“Oh, it’s like that, is it?” Havoc said, studying the photos like they were critical pieces of evidence.

“The sooner it’s over for one team, the sooner it’s over for everyone,” Breda pointed out.

“Well, good luck getting me to crack,” she said, turning on her heel. “I doubt you two will even be able to hold out another week.”

 #

 Hawkeye was right. Roy and Breda were both reaching their limits. It was all well and good at work, but the minute he was alone…

Roy nodded at Breda as the other man walked out the door. Maybe he was taking this too seriously, but there was something tantalizing about getting Hawkeye to give in first.

A few minutes later Roy packed up, said goodnight to his adjutant who was furiously assembling some kind of information packet some higher ups had requested, and then he met up with Breda outside the building.

“What’d you find out?” Roy asked, shoving his hands into his pockets.

“Hawkeye’s more vulnerable than we thought,” Breda said, chuckling. “Havoc could not resist telling me that she—she does it every night. To go to sleep, apparently.” Breda covered another laugh, slightly awkward and uncomfortable. “I can hardly believe it.”

Roy understood the feeling. Every night? He wanted to shout, just like Havoc. While he knew women could be very sexual—he’d grown up in a bar where pretty women entertained men for a living—he hadn’t seen Hawkeye that way. He’d always seen her as a woman he would need to coax an orgasm from, kiss her blush away as he slowly undressed her…

He’d thought about it so many times, and now…the reality was threatening to overcome his self-control. He wanted nothing more than to take this information home and stroke himself until he came, thinking of his gorgeous lieutenant touching herself.

“Maybe we should strategize over a drink?” Roy offered.

Because he really needed a damn drink.

 #

 The next Monday, Roy arrived an hour late to the office. He’d stayed awake pouring over the money laundering case—he suspected a local paint supplier had something to do with it. They might need to do an overnight search of their warehouse, which was much larger than a business of their size required.

All thoughts of the case evaporated as he saw two more had been knocked out of the competition. Hawkeye’s name was still blank.

“Still holding out, sir?” she asked.

“Yes, I didn’t get this promotion without a good dose of discipline, you know.”

Fuery and Havoc groaned as Breda and Falman cheered.

“You got this, boss!” Breda said.

“You think you can last the whole month?” Hawkeye challenged.

Roy grinned. “What about you, lieutenant? You look…tired.”

Her eyes widened before she quickly recovered. “Nothing a little coffee won’t fix,” she said, holding up a cup. “But you don’t have anything keeping you…up at night, sir?”

She was a little bit evil, he decided.

“So insubordinate,” he said lightly, returning to his desk. “Breda, what the hell happened, man? You’re leaving me against the lieutenant by myself?”

Breda saluted, then hung his head, even as he laughed at himself. “I got a little too drunk and forgot about the competition. I will do everything I can to support you, sir. Our honor as men is at stake.”

Mustang covered his face with his hands.

“And you, Fuery?”

“Do I have to say?” he moaned, slumping pathetically against his desk.

“Of course not,” Roy said amiably. “We are all entitled to our privacy. Uh, or as much as a game like this allows.”

“I bet he was done in by Private Jennison. Damn, she was about to bust out of her—” Havoc cut himself off, giving a sheepish look to Hawkeye.

“Probably best not to bring it up—even though she totally was, poor girl,” Hawkeye said, shaking her head. “She’s actually a very good soldier, and she struggles for anyone to see beyond her—endowments.”

Roy shared a look with his adjutant. Hawkeye’s skills as a soldier were unmissable, but she had to rise better than the best of the men to earn the respect of their superiors. It was harder being a woman in the military, and in ways Roy often didn’t notice.

“I guess it’s like how no one can see past my handsome face,” Havoc said, fluttering his eyelashes. Hawkeye aimed a rubber band at his back. “Ow!”

“If you had real discipline, you could’ve dodged it,” she said, swiftly blocking his retaliation with a folder.

Roy would’ve thought that Hawkeye was truly unbothered by the competition, that he had no hope of winning, until he saw her leave for the shooting range again. While she kept her skills sharp, it was unheard of for her to go on Mondays when they were usually busiest.

He rested his chin on his hand, he was going to need to have another meeting with Breda and Falman.

 #

 “Uh, so why are we meeting here?” Fuery asked, peering around the smoky, crowded bar with suspicion.

Havoc released a puff of his own smoke, eyeing some of the beautiful waitresses bringing drinks. “Isn’t this the place Mustang likes?”

Riza smiled. “Oh, the same one. I’m sure he’s brought you all here before, right?” She knew her superior well. He trusted these men, and if he had their trust, they must have been vetted by Madame Christmas’s girls. While Chris operated out of central, she had girls posted at bars around the country. With Roy in East City, she had sent one of his favorite “sisters” to watch out for him.

“He brought you here, Hawkeye?” Fuery choked out. “If my mother knew I was here, she’d skin me alive!”

“I’ve been here a time or two,” Riza said casually, waving Vanessa over.

“Elizabeth!” Vanessa squealed, and she dropped practically into Riza’s lap to hug her. “What are you doing here?” She looked to Fuery and Havoc. “Are you two-timing my brother?”

Riza laughed, fighting a blush. She hoped they didn’t know Vanessa meant Mustang. Vanessa and all the other girls had been teasing them since the first time Mustang brought her to Madame Christmas’s bar in Central—not long after he’d burned the array off her back. The girls kept up the teasing probably because Mustang had squawked at them not to scare her off.

“These are some of Mustang’s other men—Jean Havoc and Kain Fuery.” Riza put her hand to Vanessa’s ear. “We need some dirt on the Flame Alchemist.” She pulled back, forcing a giggle the way Vanessa and the other girls had taught her.

“Oh, you are bad,” Vanessa said. “Want some drinks before we chat?”

Riza nodded. “Put it on you-know-who’s tab.”

“You have gotten positively cheeky,” Vanessa said, slipping off behind the bar.

Havoc and Fuery turned to Riza, both patiently awaiting an explanation.

“Vanessa and the girls have mentored me in the art of…persuasion.” Riza couldn’t think of a better word for it. “I go by Elizabeth here.”

“Is that your full name?” Fuery asked.

“No.” It was her middle name. “But Vanessa might have some ideas on how to get one over on our boss. He’s probably plotting something—and we need to try and get a step ahead of him if we can.”

Havoc stubbed out his cigarette. “Yeah, he didn’t seem bothered by those photos at all. Is he even human?”

“It’s been almost three weeks. I was dying at one,” Fuery confessed.

Vanessa returned to the table with drinks, and she genuinely laughed as the three of them explained their predicament.

“So this is for the pride of women everywhere, is it?” Vanessa concluded.

“And these two,” Riza added, sipping her cocktail.

“Hmm, Roy is a tricky one,” Vanessa said. “He’s been taught to ignore the usual ploys girls use.”

“So you’re saying he’s immune to the obvious feminine charms?” Havoc said glumly.

Vanessa nodded. “I truly believe a woman could strip naked in front of him and he wouldn’t bat an eye.”

“Even after weeks of…abstaining?” Riza asked, feeling a little desperate. She was wound up with tension, and so, so tired. Another nine days of sleeplessness—no. She had to crack him.

“I couldn’t say,” Vanessa said. “But when he sets his mind to do something, he does it.”

“Well, I suppose a stalemate is almost as good as winning, right?” Fuery offered weakly.

Vanessa shook her head. “Winning is always better. I do adore Roy, but—” She hugged Riza tightly. “We have a sisterhood. Now come with me, I’m going to tell you something the boys can’t overhear.”

Vanessa played up the girly act, giggling and holding Riza’s hand as they darted through the dimly lit bar.

Vanessa led them to a private room in the back, finally dropping the giggling act, though even without it Vanessa was a very cheery person. She flopped on a loveseat, tossing her hair back.

“You and my brother are almost painful to watch. He came by earlier. Said he needed to know how to drive a woman mad with lust without doing it himself.”

Riza blanched. “He what?”

“That tells me he’s very close to his own limits. He wouldn’t come begging for advice from me otherwise.” She smirked. “It also makes sense why he wouldn’t tell me any more detail than that. I wouldn’t have helped him!”

Feeling encouraged that Mustang was reaching the end of his rope, Riza was back to business. “So what did you tell him? I need to prepare for whatever he’s going to try to do.”

Vanessa—carefree, shameless Vanessa—blushed. “I had no idea he meant you, okay? Remember that.” She sucked in a breath. “I told him to…take you for a bumpy drive. Or anything else that might…stimulate things.” She erupted in giggles.

“He’s a terrible driver!”

“A perfect excuse, I told him,” Vanessa said, snorting into her hands.

“I’m only doing this stupid competition because he wants me to get along better with the men on the team,” Riza said, feeling cross. “I haven’t slept properly since it began, and now it’s just that idiot between me and a good night’s sleep. I need to crack him.”

“Maybe that’s all you need to do,” Vanessa said thoughtfully. “Tell him just how much you are dying for it. His noble self won’t be able to resist. Especially if you play it up like Elizabeth would,” she finished, wiggling her eyebrows.

“I could never do that.”

“Why not? It could work!”

“Because—he’s my superior.” It sounded flimsy when she put it that way.

“Your superior who started a very questionable competition that could get you all a court martial.”

She had a point. “Well…I’ll sleep on it.” Or not sleep, as usual.

 #

 The next morning, armed with extra strong coffee, Riza confronted her superior. She wanted him to squirm. She leaned on his desk, taking a small sip of the terrible coffee from the break room. Conveniently, the other men had left to finish preparations for the money laundering case.

“I can’t believe you went to Vanessa for advice,” she said, hoping she sounded like the scolding adjutant she aimed to be.

Mustang threw his pen down. “What? She told you?”

Riza let him stew for a few moments longer than she should have. “Yes. Because I also went to her for advice.”

His eyes narrowed. “What did she tell you?”

“She told me to prey on your more noble nature,” she said, adding the lilting tones of Elizabeth. “Please, sir, I need to sleep. I’m tossing and turning all night, so tense—”

His hands slammed down on the desk.

“Lieutenant, that won’t work,” he said. Riza’s heart pounded in her chest. She was very sure it was working. His breathing had subtly picked up—and he had shifted forward in his chair very deliberately.

She couldn’t call him out on it though. It seemed…unsporting. “Well then, don’t even think of offering me a ride anywhere, sir.”

He spluttered, avoiding her gaze. “I wasn’t going to!”

She threw her head back and laughed before returning to her desk, waiting for the others to arrive before she deployed her next tactic.

 #

 Roy was in trouble. If Hawkeye had gone to Vanessa for advice, Hawkeye would know a little too accurately how to take him down. Hawkeye was the only girl he’d ever brought to the bar, and during some of the “lessons” the girls did with her had been far too effective on him—and Vanessa knew it, even if Hawkeye hadn’t picked up on it at the time. And Vanessa knew they were only so effective because it was Riza Hawkeye teasing and flirting with him.

He avoided looking at her as he discreetly adjusted himself beneath his desk. Under normal circumstances when he wasn’t a few strokes away from losing his pride as an officer, ignoring her was easy. It was a protective habit to see her as a soldier and friend, nothing more.

Now he saw her as he once did when she was nothing more than his teacher’s daughter: a forbidden fantasy.

His life would be simpler if he just gave in, bowed to his lieutenant’s stronger discipline. But some embarrassing part of him wanted to go longer—show her that he was more than capable of holding off. As long as he needed to.

Roy reined himself in, forcing himself to do another once over of his formal request to search the warehouse of the paint supplier. He was quite pleased with the details Hawkeye had added. Grumman would surely approve. Deciding it was good enough, Roy passed the form off to Hawkeye who promptly left to deliver it to Grumman’s office without even a teasing word. Suspicious.

The other men trickled in, and Havoc walked in especially smug. Roy’s suspicions grew.

“Boss, I had a question for you. I was chatting with my girlfriend about our competition,” Havoc began. Roy put on a purposefully disinterested look. “She’s rooting for Hawkeye, obviously, but she wondered if under the conditions set, if they weren’t a bit sexist.”

“Oh?” Roy asked.

“Well, a woman can have sex without orgasming—it’s just a matter of biology, isn’t it? So if Hawkeye wanted to have some fun without the satisfaction, so to speak, couldn’t she do that?”

He heard Fuery strangle a laugh.

“Just as much as any of us could, I guess,” Roy said flatly.

“I’ll be sure to pass that on to Hawkeye, sir,” Havoc said.

Roy sighed. “Don’t blame me if she shoots you.”

He wanted to shoot Havoc himself. Roy knew what the bastard was doing—and Hawkeye probably had something to do with it. Because what Elizabeth had been taught was to seduce with suggestion. Now Roy was thinking about her, wanting to feel wrapped around her while she came apart. It felt like a whole other challenge, making her come in the middle of sex. He wondered if any of her lovers had managed it before. He suspected not. They didn’t have the restraint Roy did.

Roy dropped his head to his desk, indifferent to how it looked. He was ready to walk to the bathroom and have one off like a horny teenager.

“Boss, no!” Breda said. “Be strong! This is about our honor as men—as soldiers!”

“Havoc, that was cold,” Falman said.

Havoc shook his head. “The sooner this is over, the sooner Hawkeye stops breathing down my neck about my overdue work. She’s much more vicious lately.” He shuddered.

“Forget this, I need—I need to step out,” Roy said, gathering what was left of his dignity and standing to leave. He didn’t care. It had been almost three weeks. He hadn’t gone this long since the war.

“Falman! Plan B!” Breda yelled.

Falman jumped from his desk, a bucket materializing from behind it.

Abruptly, Roy was drenched in cold water.

“What the hell?” he snarled, turning to Falman who was still holding the empty bucket.

“Sir!” And of course Hawkeye would appear, and while her face gave away nothing, her eyes were definitely laughing at him. “What happened?”

The men couldn’t explain over their laughter. Roy slicked his hair back with a wet palm. “Plan B, that’s all, lieutenant.”

“Well, you are useless when wet,” Hawkeye said, dropping her eyes respectfully to the floor.

“Insubordinate, disloyal monsters,” Roy grumbled under his breath, taking his soaked jacket off and tossing it at Falman. The jacket had taken the brunt of the attack and droplets sprayed across the room. “Find me a dry shirt, Falman!” Typically he would ask Hawkeye, but he was trying not to look at her at the moment. His erection had finally retreated, but he wasn’t risking anything yet.

Falman went digging in the closet where they kept odds and ends—such as extra shirts—and appeared with a clean, dry shirt. Without thinking, Roy began to unbutton his current one to change.

“Avert your eyes, Hawkeye!” Havoc hollered, and Roy looked up to see the man diving in front of Hawkeye who had been waiting in front of Roy’s desk expectantly. Holding the search warrant, he realized. It had been approved!

“What are you doing?” Hawkeye yelped, as Havoc covered her eyes with his hands.

“I think their Plan B is to seduce you with the lieutenant colonel’s abs. What’s he doing just stripping in front of a female officer so boldly!”

Roy felt a flush creep up his neck. He’d thought nothing of changing in front of her.

“Havoc, what do you know about my abs?” he asked, diverting attention from himself.

“Don’t change the subject,” Havoc said, still trying to cover Hawkeye’s eyes as she struggled to bat him away without dropping the paperwork in her arms.

“Stop being stupid!” she said, elbowing him hard enough to release her. “I have the approval from General Grumman, but he insisted we go tonight. We have arrangements to make, so stop clowning around!” Thoroughly scolded, Havoc hurried to his desk, while Roy changed in record time.

As the team went to work, Roy noticed something—they were arguing less. Breda was consulting with Havoc while Fuery and Falman bounced ideas off Hawkeye. Maybe the team building had done more than frustrate the hell out of them. There was a comfort between them that had been absent before. And at the end of the day when Hawkeye fell asleep sitting straight in her chair, Havoc picked up her work and continued where she left off.

 #

 Like clockwork, the team’s search of the warehouse began. Havoc covered Breda while he searched the office, and Falman watched over the entrance. Fuery was stationed with the communication system up the hill from the warehouse, connected to Falman so they could be forewarned of any activity outside the building. Roy and Hawkeye would search the rest of the warehouse. If anything looked hidden or questionable, Roy wanted to be able to use his alchemy to flush it out.

The warehouse was an out of the way building with little security. If they were hiding something here, they weren’t concerned it would be found. The rows of shelving before Roy and Hawkeye looked perfectly ordinary in the small amount of light illuminating the room.

“There’s a strong…chemical smell,” Hawkeye said. He didn’t need to see her to know she was wrinkling her nose.

“Yes, I think it’s paint thinner.” No flames then. He tucked his gloves away. “Let’s split up. You go left, I go right. Meet in the middle?”

“Got it, sir.”

Gradually, Roy wound his way through the aisles, occasionally inspecting things physically. Across the silent room it was easy to hear Hawkeye doing the same. He was beginning to think the area was a dead end when he noticed some unusual etchings on the ground at the bottom of a shelf. Instincts coming alive, he started emptying the shelf of heavy buckets. And there it was, a secret entrance. The grip to pull the floorboards up was nothing more than a divot in the concrete floor.

“Oy! Hawkeye, come here!”

She was at his side in moments. “That looks promising,” she said mildly. “You want to do the honors?”

Roy nodded, squatting and heaving the slab up on its side. “Shit, that was heavy,” he grunted. He turned on his flashlight and was rewarded with the sight of a few dozen bars of gold, stacked in neat little rows inside the hidden pocket beneath the floor. Gold he was certain the company had not claimed as income that year.

“Perfect,” he said, dropping onto his stomach to see if anything else had been hidden with the gold.

“Careful, sir,” Hawkeye said. “Maybe let me look. I’m smaller.”

“You’re right,” he said, shuffling backward. The way the shelves were, he couldn’t even stand on his knees without hitting his head.

Once he was out of the way, Hawkeye wriggled under the shelf, and Roy couldn’t stop himself from watching her behind. He loved when she dressed down for assignments like these. The uniform was so boxy, it was difficult to make out her curves. Not that he should be wanting to check out his subordinate, but it was inevitable.

“Huh, there might be a stack of papers stuck under one of these stacks, but it’s too heavy for me to move like this.” She dropped to her stomach. “Can you come hold the flashlight?”

Roy squeezed in beside her—and promptly kicked over a tin can.

“Shit! What is that!” he hissed as something cold and wet soaked through his shirt. “Not again!” And it smelled very potent.

“What did you knock over?” Hawkeye asked, turning on her side. “It reeks!”

“I think some paint thinner,” he admitted, scrambling to turn the can upright. Stupid thing definitely hadn’t been secured properly.

Then suddenly it was like Hawkeye couldn’t escape fast enough.

“Oh no. Uhh, sir! It’s burning!” she gasped, almost a whimper.

Roy took action. He grabbed her arm and hauled her out. “There was a washing area this way,” he said, practically dragging her to where’d he’d seen it.

The corner he’d seen had a drain and a basic hose for washing up paint spills, he suspected. There were buckets and mops littering the area, but he haphazardly kicked them out of the way.

“How much did you get on you?” he asked her. The smell was thick in his nose, but that was probably his own clothes stinking up the place. And shit, it was really starting to burn. What kind of chemicals did they use?

“All down my side,” she said tightly.

“Here, you rinse first,” he said, turning on the hose. He turned to pass it to her and almost dropped it. He was the luckiest man alive, covered in paint thinner, but still the luckiest man alive, because there was Riza Hawkeye stripping in front of him. He only got a quick glimpse before he averted his eyes, but he’d seen toned muscles and curves—and a plain black bra that was unduly sexy.

He didn’t have long to savor the sight before the skin irritation began to override everything else. He searched around for soap, trying not to look at the lieutenant. He swallowed. She had stripped down to her bra and underwear and she was dripping with cold water…

Burning skin brought him back to reality again. He found some soap and offered it to her blindly while looking off in the other direction.

“Thank you,” she said quietly.

Roy busied himself taking off his shirt—the same one he’d changed into earlier in the office, so at least it wasn’t one of his good shirts.

“Sir, you can share the water with me,” she said, like it was the most natural thing in the world. “It’s best to wash it off as quickly as you can. I’ll lather myself up while you rinse off.”

“I—uh—should probably—"

“Do what you have to do,” she said, answering his question before he could fumble for the words.

He willed his erection to behave as he took a deep breath and undid the button on his pants.

 #

 Riza wished the water was a bit colder—something to remind her that she was in the middle of a stealth assignment with her superior officer, not half naked with a very attractive man. Why was he so muscular anyway?”

She felt him step closer, the heat of him radiating against her side. She let herself look at him briefly as she passed him the hose. His face was dark and tense, but he gave nothing else away, concentrating on washing himself.

Her eyes dropped lower, skimming down the lean muscles of his chest, darting quickly to the very prominent tent in his boxers. They were already wet from the cold water, and the cloth clung suggestively to his erection.

She sucked her bottom lip into her mouth and returned to cleaning the chemicals off. Her side was pink where the chemicals had soaked through her clothes—her hip and thigh had taken the worst of it. There was no room for lustful thoughts when they’d made a mess of an otherwise very simple investigation. Already she wasn’t sure how they were going to explain this to the others.

After she had passed the soap to him while she rinsed hers off, he finally said something.

“The scarring doesn’t look as bad as I expected,” he whispered. “It’s healed well.”

Self-consciously, instinctively, she twirled to hide her back from him. It was a mistake. Now she was a few inches from him, looking up into his regretful dark eyes. All she wanted to do was close the gap and kiss him. Her hand clenched tightly on the hose as she talked herself down from doing anything foolish. He was her superior officer, and they both had goals more important than whatever feelings simmered between them.

“Don’t forget what relief those scars bring me,” she said. “I can see you torturing yourself about it again.”

He sighed. “That’s not the only thing torturing me.” He grabbed the hose from her, letting the water wash away the cheap soap he’d found. Her eyes were drawn below his waist again, this time unable to stop herself from inspecting the impressive bulge. She shivered, goosebumps dancing across her skin.

“You’re staring, lieutenant,” he said, his voice husky.

She had no excuse. “I was just wondering how much longer you’ll be able to last,” she said, summoning her courage. She thought about what Vanessa had told her. “The sooner you give in…the sooner I can, too. And I am so tired, sir. It really is the only thing that helps me sleep.”

“So you’re saying, as your superior, it’s my duty to lose this competition so you can sleep? Because…” He paused to look her over, and boldly, she let him. She was proud of her body—it was strong and capable. “You’ll get more work done if I do, right?”

“I’m really at my best when I’m well rested,” she agreed, the words coming out breathless as she watched his hand dip down into his underwear, somehow managing to grab his cock without pushing the wet fabric out of the way. She wished fervently for a better view.

The moment he gave in to the first stroke, he let out a desperate, quiet moan. The relief of finally giving into it seemed to hit every part of him—his head fell back as the tension left his shoulders. And it was that word—relief—that brought to mind what she wanted to do for him.

“Sir,” she said, retreating to familiar patterns as she braved the unknown. “Permission to help give you some relief?” She dropped to her knees so there would be no mistaking her meaning.

In the dim light, there was nothing to see in his eyes but burning lust. “Please. Fuck. But I’m not going to last—” the rest was cut off in a gasp as she gently tugged his boxers out of the way, their hands lacing together across his cock as she held it steady and let her lips stretch across the head ever-so-slowly before she sucked him against her tongue, fighting not to gag as his hips thrust involuntarily forward. The taste of precum was salty and bitter on her tongue and told her this would be over too quickly. Strange, she’d never really wanted to spend much time like this with others, but with him…she wanted to worship him.

Shaky fingers traced across her hair and she allowed herself to look up at him. It humbled her, the look of trust and bliss across his face as he watched her movements intently. She wanted to smile. Instead, she swirled her tongue around his tip playfully, and listened to him groan as she focused on getting him to come.

She learned that when Roy Mustang came it was with the same quiet intensity he used while drawing arrays.

 #

 There was no time for awkward conversation because barely a moment after finishing washing up, Havoc and Breda came looking for them. Mustang immediately threw a tarp over Riza while he hurried off to explain the situation. Their laughter was short-lived, as Riza heard the muffled sound of Mustang barking orders at them.

He returned with Breda and Havoc—both of them shirtless, but Mustang was slipping on Breda’s shirt which was at least long enough to give him a bit more modesty. Riza dressed beneath the tarp, grateful that Havoc was tall enough that his shirt fell to a very modest length.

Even accounting for the paint thinner incident, the team managed to pull together all the evidence needed for a solid case to present to General Grumman.

Finished, they all packed into one car for the sake of being inconspicuous. As they all crowded in, there was a quiet moment where nothing was said.

“Maybe Fuery and Falman should take off an item of clothing each too. Just to be fair,” Havoc joked.

“And roll down the windows. That paint thinner smells poisonous!” Breda added.

The laughter from the team eased Riza’s nerves. No one had said an unprofessional word about her or her body, or the fact she and Mustang had been alone in their underwear.

Her thighs pressed together remembering the feel of him in her mouth, even as embarrassment flooded her. What had she been thinking? She hadn’t been thinking. Weeks of poor sleep caught up to her. And Mustang had undoubtedly been on his last ounce of willpower.

It could never happen again.

She drove them back to their meetup point, anxious to get home and sleep. It was now past three in the morning. It wasn’t until she was trudging up the stairs to her apartment that a painful realization struck: she still couldn’t fall asleep her usual way. Her crutch was still out of reach. At work the next day, Mustang would have to mark himself out. It would raise the men’s suspicions too much if she marked herself out the same night. Especially after they’d spent the whole evening working late. She would have to wait until tomorrow night.

She cursed under her breath, deciding to take a long shower to wash the remaining smell of paint thinner away. It would be a cold, lonely shower.

 #

 Despite his exhaustion, Roy lay awake, torn between elation and guilt. Finally, finally he’d had a sample of what it would be like to be Riza Hawkeye’s lover. Of course, it happened in less than ideal conditions. He was so disoriented from his orgasm, he’d forgotten to so much as kiss her. He was a cad.

But he was dying to return the favor.

He toyed with the idea of leaving her alone, writing off the incident at the warehouse as the result of fumes and hormones. From what he knew of Hawkeye, she’d accept this without question. It would be the wisest choice. The idea also sent a wave of regret through him. He couldn’t stop this thing between them before it was even fully off the ground. Before he kissed her properly.

He decided to leave it in Hawkeye’s hands. She knew how to keep him on the right path better than himself. Though he might nudge her in the direction he desired.

 #

 The team assembled in the office slowly, all armed with coffee. Roy was the last to arrive, and upon seeing Hawkeye his mind immediately reminded him of how she had looked half naked and wet. Something about her proper, professional demeanor at the office made it so much hotter that he knew what amazing things she could do with her mouth. It was a dirty secret between them—and he loved it.

“Does anyone else still smell paint thinner?” Breda asked, stifling a yawn.

Roy strolled over to the chalkboard slowly, delaying the inevitable ribbing. “I’m pretty sure I’ve become desensitized to it,” he said.

“Me too,” Hawkeye said. “I think something was off about it, too. I looked at my shirt from last night and it seemed to be eating a hole through the fabric.”

Roy made a note to take a look at his own clothes when he went home.

He studied the chalkboard, brow creasing as he saw there was no mark beside Hawkeye’s name. Even after she knew he’d lost…

He drew the “X” with pride, knowing that he had lost this challenge the best possible way.

It took only a second for the team to notice. There was an immediate uproar.

“Our fallen leader,” Breda said, wiping a fake tear away.

“So what brought you down, boss?” Havoc asked slyly. His eyes flickered to Hawkeye. Havoc wasn’t stupid enough to say it out loud, but he knew Roy and Hawkeye had both been in their underwear—sharing a single hose with only moderate water pressure.

Roy had prepared an answer. “I just needed some…relief.”

The men all laughed, but Hawkeye crossed her arms and wore the smallest of smiles, ever the humble champion.

An idea came to Roy then.

“Now, by the rules of the competition, Hawkeye is the last one standing. But to truly win…maybe she should try to last the rest of the month.”

Her expression turned horrified for a fraction of a second before she smothered it.

“Really?” she asked flatly.

Havoc and Fuery each gave her nervous looks. Everyone was especially tired today, and Hawkeye was already tired.

“What, not sure you can hold off another week?” Roy asked lightly.

She clenched her jaw. “I can make it.”

Checkmate, Hawkeye.

 #

 Roy finally got a moment alone with Hawkeye on the way to a meeting together.

“So you really didn’t…indulge at all?” Roy asked lowly, trying to ignore the wilting of his pride. He reminded himself that women had moods, and just because a mood arrived, didn’t mean it lingered. While she’d definitely looked willing and debauched on her knees in the warehouse, she’d been all business the moment Breda and Havoc arrived.

And though he was awake for an hour replaying the vision of her mostly naked, it didn’t mean she was compelled to do the same.

“No. I didn’t want them to suspect something happened between us,” she said matter-of-factly.

Right. She was too honest to lie, even for a ridiculous team building exercise.

“I see,” he said.

“I would have indulged tonight, but someone suggested I see this competition through to the end,” she said coldly.

He glanced back as he heard her yawn. Her eyes were puffy, her skin a little paler than normal. Maybe he shouldn’t have goaded her into holding off another week.

 #

 Riza attempted going to bed early that night. She took a warm, relaxing bath with a few scented candles burning. She did her stretches for her back slowly, willing her body to relax, turned the light off, and crawled into bed, aching for sleep. And something else, if she was honest with herself.

Her mind refused to shut off.

How bad would it be to give in? She was so tired. Any teasing would be worth the rest. And she was thinking about her superior again, the quiet intensity as he lost himself to pleasure, the soft touch of his hand across her face…

She rubbed her thighs together, biting her lip. What good would she be at work tomorrow if she was half asleep? Her fingers edged toward the waistband of her underwear, craving that rush of heat that would spread through her body, leaving her blissfully relaxed.

The phone rang.

Cursing powerfully, she jumped out of bed to answer it.

“Hello?”

“Hawkeye!” a drunken voice yelled into her ear. There was a lot of laughter and voices in the background.

She covered her face, twitching in annoyance. “Havoc! What do you want? I’m trying to get to sleep!”

“Exactly! I made a bet with Breda that you would make it through the rest of the month! Don’t be—don’t be doing anything you shouldn’t, young lady!”

“Excuse me?” she growled into the phone.

“You heard me!”

There was the sound of a scuffle, and a loud clanking as the phone was probably dropped.

“Hawkeye! Don’t listen to him! You do what you need to fall asleep. You deserve it!” Breda’s voice said, equally drunk.

“I’m hanging up.”

“Be strong, lieutenant!” Havoc bellowed, loud enough she heard it even holding the phone away from her ear.

It was another very long, restless night of little sleep.

 #

 Riza made sure to drop the stack of books onto Havoc’s desk as loudly as she could. She gave him a vengeful smile as he winced and massaged his temples. He didn’t show up at the office until after lunch.

“So, you and Breda went drinking last night?” she asked conversationally.

“Sorry, Hawkeye. I have fifty cenz riding on this!”

“I’m going to the range,” she said. “You are going to take care of all of my duties while I’m gone, or I will make sure you lose that bet.”

“Fine,” he agreed, sullen.

She stalked out of the room, arguing with herself about the immorality in their team. Masturbation competitions. Gambling. Fraternization. She flushed with guilt. How could she keep Mustang on the right path if she wavered at temptation?

 #

 Roy followed Hawkeye, telling the team he was going to make sure she didn’t fall asleep at the range and shoot someone on accident. And she really was dangerously tired—she didn’t notice he was following her until he called to her.

“Hawkeye, you’re dead on your feet, come with me,” he said, nudging her away from the gun range.

“Sir, I’m not going home—”

“I’m not sending you home. Come on, I know a place,” he said, bestowing her with his most dazzling grin.

She looked at him, and he knew her temper was boiling beneath the surface. “What kind of place?”

He lowered his voice. “A very quiet and private place.” He had taken countless naps there himself.

She quirked an eyebrow. “Is this where you disappear to some afternoons?”

“I admit nothing,” he said. And he had more than one napping place, but this one he was willing to share with Hawkeye.

“And you’re showing it to me…why?”

He thought about how worn down she was, looking as if she’d fall asleep in her chair. He hadn’t been thinking when he’d challenged her to continue holding off. He only hoped a nap could see her through the day.

“I owe you one,” he said.

She jutted out her chin for a moment longer as he waited for her temper to either burst or simmer down. His eyes landed on her lips, thinking of what they might be able to do in such a quiet place together…

Her expression softened as she smiled at him.

“All right. Just this once,” she said, falling into step behind him.

He led them toward the accounting department’s storage room. Unlike other departments, they had to store files for ten years before they could be destroyed. Roy had come poking around for a corrupt official’s  spending records when he discovered the accountants maintained a room with a cot for their annual audit. It was apparently an arduous event, and many of them pulled all-nighters. But the rest of the year, the room was unused—except by him.

Around a row of cabinets, out of view from the door, was a simple cot. No blankets or anything, but comfortable enough for some sleep.

“It’s not much, but it’s very private,” Roy said. A strange thrill ran through him, the same kind he got whenever he cornered a criminal, or was about to put his opponent in check. He turned to Hawkeye, and his mouth fell open. She was stripping in front of him for the second time in less than a week. She hung her jacket carefully across a cabinet, then began unbuttoning her pants.

He stared.

“You better look while you can,” she teased, revealing her long, bare legs. “Just this once, remember?”

Roy struggled to breathe, replaying the conversation they’d had in the hallway. He’d said—and she thought he meant—

Well, he always was quick on his feet.

“Right. Just this once,” he said. He’d set himself on fire before correcting her mistake. “Do you want me to—?” He gestured to his own jacket. He wasn’t sure, but if this was a quid pro quo thing, he didn’t need to undress, although they had both been mostly naked back at the warehouse...

“Maybe just your jacket,” she said, confirming his assumption.

He slipped his off quickly, throwing it haphazardly to the ground while Hawkeye folded her pants carefully.

“Sir, it will wrinkle,” she scolded him with a flirty smirk, moving toward the jacket.

“Sorry,” he said distractedly, taking in the exposed skin of her thighs. He couldn’t look away as she bent down to retrieve the jacket, laying it neatly atop the cabinet beside hers.

If this was his only opportunity…

He strode forward, his hands palming her hips and pulling her flush against him. She peered up at him, her breath as shallow as his.

“Is this okay?” he found himself asking, aware that his cock was misbehaving, but he would control himself. It was her turn now. He owed her so much—more than a hurried tryst in a storage room. He would do whatever she wanted.

“Yes,” she murmured, melting against him. It felt so good, so right, to have her in his arms.

“Last time, I didn’t even get to kiss you and—and—that’s just unfair,” he said, eyeing her parted lips with desperation.

She took mercy on him and stood on her toes, pulling him down by the nape of his neck to crush their lips together. She kissed with the same thoroughness she approached her job, and he responded with everything he had—a vain need to show her what a good, considerate lover he would be. He was overly eager to impress her.

He let his hands wander across her ass, giving a quick squeeze that made her gasp deliciously into his mouth. Then he worked his thumbs into the soft fabric of her underwear, tugging them off until there was nothing but skin below her waist. Tracing his hands lower, he squeezed again at the top of her thighs and was rewarded with her moan.

He nudged her back until she reclined on the cot, her legs trembling. Her eyes watched him carefully, half open but full of lust.

“Open your legs for me,” he said, the words more a command then a request.

She let her legs fall apart, gifting him with a surprisingly dainty whimper. One hand covered herself shyly, and it about broke him. His lovely, confident lieutenant afraid for him to see her—when she had to know what he planned to do.

Resting a hand on her thin ankle, he waited as she took a few gasps. He leaned down to kiss her knee, dragging his lips toward her inner thigh where he felt the heat radiating from her center. Her breaths grew ragged with anticipation.

“Roy—no one has ever—” she whispered, panting, still blocking his view with her hand.

“I don’t have to,” he said, choosing his words deliberately. It made sense now why she was being uncharacteristically shy. “But I am fucking dying to taste you and feel you come on my tongue.”

She made an unintelligible noise. “Okay,” she choked out. She moved her hand, and he let his fingers explore her first, caressing them over her folds.

“Let me know if I do something you don’t like,” he said, before slipping two fingers straight inside her. She was already so wet, he imagined if it was his cock, she would’ve taken it beautifully. She moaned as he pumped his fingers in and out of her, but her eyes remained watchful, expectant.

He understood. She wanted to know when he would use his mouth.

He took a moment to consider what she might like best, then he lowered his head slowly, keeping his gaze locked on hers. His tongue found her clit immediately, and he pressed hard against it.

She cried out, quickly muffling it with her hand. He grinned against her, then began licking and sucking interchangeably. Her legs shook violently around him, her encouraging, high pitched gasps seemed connected by a string to his erection, making him painfully hard. He began thrusting his fingers into her rhythmically, the same pace he would fuck her if he could. If he wasn’t her superior. If he had nothing to atone for.

He matched his tongue’s pace to his fingers, and she clenched down around him.

“Oh god. Just like that—don’t stop,” she sobbed. He was shocked at how close she was already. Then she was pulsing around him with a final blissful moan. She grasped the collar of his shirt and pulled until they were close enough to share a sloppy, passionate kiss.

He watched her eyelids flutter shut with sleep, so he surreptitiously adjusted his erection so that it was more comfortable before cramming in beside her in the cot meant for one. She snuggled into him like it was something they had always done, her head tucked under his chin. His heart twisted realizing how fleeting the moment would be.

Even after she fell asleep, he could still taste her on his tongue.

 #

 Riza woke up in a haze of perfect contentment until she realized her head was resting on Mustang’s chest. Oh no. How could they have been so reckless? And on military property. The sleep deprivation was affecting her reasoning.

Still, she didn’t move. Mustang had fallen asleep as well, and his arm was across her back. She peeked down and saw his jacket draped across her naked lower half. Her body throbbed with the memory of what his tongue had done. Oh my—if she had known what it would be like…

No. She couldn’t go down that path. The only reason she had stayed in the military was to support his goals and work toward whatever atonement she could grasp. She couldn’t help him as a regular citizen, and as long as she was in the military, a relationship was impossible.

She chided herself for such a leap—Mustang hadn’t mentioned a relationship. It was just raging sexual tension burning out of control once they had no other outlets thanks to that stupid competition.

Or so she wanted to convince herself.

“Lieutenant, I’m surprised you haven’t marched me at gunpoint back to the office,” he said, startling her.

She pushed up on her elbow. “At this rate, I think it’s best we lie low. We’ve been gone too long.”

“I’ll think of some excuse,” he assured her. “I also…wanted to apologize. I shouldn’t have pushed you to go the rest of the month. You won fair and square.”

Riza smiled. “I appreciate that—but why the hell did you do it in the first place?”

He gave her a sheepish look. “Mostly to watch you squirm.”

She reached out and pinched his arm.

“Ow! You are becoming very insubordinate, you know that?”

She shrugged. “Someone has to keep you in line.”

“Better a pinch than a bullet, I guess,” he grumbled, exaggeratedly nursing his arm.

“Want me to kiss it better?” she found herself asking—quite without her more sensible side’s permission.

Immediately, the atmosphere changed. Her heart thudded loudly in her ears, and she was aware of every point their bodies were touching. She was completely naked below the waist, and now that she knew how good he was with his mouth…

“Riza,” he whispered, resting his forehead against hers. “Do you want this as much as I do?”

“Probably more,” she said. No matter how much she tried, she never stopped wanting Roy Mustang.

“But we shouldn’t,” he said sharply. Reprimanding himself or her, it didn’t matter. He was right.

“No. We can’t risk it.” She inhaled, relishing his scent. He always smelled so good, even back during his apprentice days in her father’s house. “Maybe…one day,” she said, her voice thin with the barest of hope for that future.

“Holding out makes it so much better, doesn’t it? The longer we have to wait to be together…” he trailed off.

“We’ll still be together,” she reminded him. “Not like this,” wrapped together like happy lovers, “but together.”

She shifted, preparing to stand and dress, when she felt something irresistible pressing into her abdomen. He had taken care of her needs, ignoring his own. Like always.

Suddenly she didn’t want to wait around for the timing to be right. Holding out was overrated.

 #

 Under normal circumstances, Roy thought of himself as a logical man. He wanted to be a man of honor, a man who could walk the straight and narrow no matter the obstacles. A man who would never seduce his female subordinate.

He had never considered his subordinate would seduce him.

“Sir, you really can’t go back to the office like this,” Hawkeye said softly as her hand wriggled between them to cup his erection.

“Ah, yes, a consequence of being pressed against you—” he couldn’t finish his thought. She twisted herself until she hovered over him, straddling his hips.

Dimly, he saw her kick his uniform jacket onto the floor. “Won’t it wrinkle?” he asked, voice strained.

“Do you care?” She pulled her shirt over her head. Her glorious breasts momentarily distracted him as her bra went next.

“No. But I’m confused. We just said—”

“You really think we can ignore this for however many years it takes to reach your goals?” She countered, working on the buttons of his shirt.

His hands, moving with a mind of their own, glided up and down her thighs. “I thought you’d keep me in line.”

“If your insane brainchild has taught us anything, our team works best when we are satisfied and well rested. And you and I both know we already get distracted by one another.” She leaned down to kiss him, and her naked breasts, soft against his chest, sent him a bit farther into madness. She sucked on his tongue, doing such obscene things with it that he nearly forgot to keep up his feeble argument.

“You’re all about efficiency, is that it?” he asked. “Fraternization be damned?”

“I’m not saying we do this all the time. Just whenever the tension gets to be too much, and we need…relief.”

He swallowed thickly. “I really like this idea.”

“Me too.” She ground down on his erection, her lips near his ear. “If I had known how good it was to have your mouth between my thighs, I would never have lasted this long.”

His mind toyed with a devious idea. His sweet, delicious lieutenant was asking for him to make her come with his mouth again. And if she had never experienced that, surely she had never…

“You up for a little…adventure?”

“What did you have in mind?” She nibbled at his neck, each touch zinging to his cock. He knew she would probably need some enticement, so he slipped his hand between her legs, her core already slick. He sank two fingers into her, grinning like an idiot when she thrust her body down onto them. His thumb rubbed circles on her clit as she squirmed on him.

Her breaths accelerated in time with his own. Willing himself to slow down, he changed the pace to lazy circles.

“Turn around,” he whispered. “I want to be inside your mouth while I taste you at the same time.”

He waited, gauging her reaction. He felt his heart constrict at the foreign shy expression on her face.

“That seems…tricky,” she said after a beat.

“You’ll be on top, so you can stop anytime.”

“Oh. If you were on top—” She squeezed down on his fingers, her eyes a dark amber. So she liked that idea? Maybe another time. He wouldn’t last long with her eager mouth beneath him. He wasn’t going to last long as it was. And the thought of having her another time was too much to think about.

“You seemed to really like my mouth on you earlier,” he reminded her, hoping to provoke her into bravery.

With a determined huff, she pulled away, his wet fingers sliding across her legs as he helped her flip around, one knee landing gracefully by his shoulder. He was dying to taste her, dying to have her helplessly moaning around a mouthful of his cock. She made short work of his pants, and he grunted as she wrapped her hand around him. He grabbed her hips, positioning her a bit roughly into place so he could tug her down and clamp down on her clit.

Her thighs quaked around him and just as he hoped, she moaned wantonly as she sucked his erection as deep as she could, her tongue teasing him.

But he didn’t want her focused on him. Sure, she was a goddess with that sharp tongue of hers, but he wanted her mindless with desire. He needed to see her fall apart before he finally claimed her body.

Roy couldn’t deny her trust in him was half the turn on, her beautiful folds spread out for him to see. He spread her legs apart farther, enjoying her gasp as he angled her just a bit differently and plunged his fingers into her again. He knew she liked that extra stimulation, and with this new angle he could do a lot.

In retaliation, she added more suction and his answering moan, vibrating against her, made her grind gently against his mouth. Her inhibitions were gone, her groans gaining almost too much volume, and her focus on him faltered to sporadic licks as she distractedly worked him up and down.

He filled with pride as she finally had to release him, her breaths high and labored.

“Oh god. Roy. Please—”

He almost shushed her she grew so loud, but he would risk the end of his career to hear her cry his name while she tipped over the edge.

“Roy,” she whimpered, her head falling onto his thigh as she went limp, perfectly relaxed.

He eased her onto her side, trying to give her a moment to catch her breath even as his cock begged for attention.

Then Hawkeye looked at him, and he realized he was now the focus of all her discipline and strength as a soldier. She twirled around, licking her swollen lips as she climbed over him, a lithe and seductive predator. She dragged her wet folds along his stiff hardness, and he reflexively bucked his hips, needing more.

She kept teasing him.

“Lieutenant,” he groaned. “Are you trying to torture me for information?”

She laughed softly before kissing him deeply. “What information would I be looking for?” she asked, finally—finally—inching her way down his erection.

Busy exploring her body, paying particular attention to her breasts, he forgot to answer. Then he could think of nothing else as she slid down his cock, wrapping him tightly in wet heat. He loved how confident she was, more in her element as she took control of his pleasure, finding a rhythm that made him tense from his stomach to his toes.

“I always thought you’d be a dirty talker,” she said, brushing the tips of her breasts against his chest as she spoke into his ear.

He was intrigued. “Oh? You think about this a lot?”

“Most nights,” she said, letting her hands roam. He sighed when they combed through his messy hair.

“I thought you’d be more shy,” he panted. “And here you are—fuck—yeah, I can’t talk much when you do that.” He groaned, rock hard inside her, as she began to thrust faster.

“Whatever fantasies I’ve had of you…this is so much better,” she said, drawing him into another kiss.

And that’s when he knew he was in trouble. She was right. This was better. Better than anything else in his life. Because he was in love with her. There was no doubt she loved him too.

He shuddered under her attentions, knowing that he was undeserving of her loving touches, but not caring. Whatever she would give him, he would take.

A grunt escaped him as she quickened the pace, his own thrusts jostling her.

“I’m—I’m close,” he warned her, his balls tightening in that pleasant way it always did right before he came.

“Go ahead—if you want,” she moaned, sinking all the way down, unmistakably giving her permission.

“Almost,” he said, sneaking a hand to her clit and circling it until she came around him with a cry of elation that he stifled with his lips.

And oh hell, it was euphoric, fusing their mouths together and holding her waist in place as he came deep inside her, pulsing over and over. She held still as he softened inside her, and he treasured the sticky mess connecting them.

They broke apart and he kissed her shoulder, damp with sweat, as they rearranged themselves into a more comfortable position on the cot.

“Well, if anyone heard us, they are too afraid to interrupt,” he said at last. He was going to have to find an excuse to top all excuses to give the rest of the team.

“I tried to be quiet,” she said, a hint of petulance in her voice.

“And I tried to make you scream,” he countered, grinning ear to ear. It earned him a shove that almost knocked him out of the cot.

Later, they dressed in companionable silence

“Maybe…we can do this again when you get your next promotion?” she offered with a smirk. “Would that motivate you?”

It really would. “Unless you ask for it sooner,” he challenged, buttoning his shirt.

“I’ll hold out as long as I can, sir,” she said, her dutiful adjutant persona reappearing. “You get that promotion as soon as you can.” She sidled up to him, making his heart race. “I don’t like to be kept waiting.”

 #

 Riza arrived early to work, marking herself out on the chalkboard with a barely suppressed smile. Then she waited for the others arrive. Havoc shuffled in first.

“What! Hawkeye!” Havoc yelled in disbelief, dropping his bag to the floor. “You couldn’t hold out a little bit longer?”

Riza paused her reading. “No.”

“Damn it, I never should’ve bet against Breda.”

“If it’s any consolation, I already finished the report you left half done. Thanks for covering for me yesterday.” She looked back down at the document, aiming for casual. But she could practically hear Havoc making the connection.

“Right. Where did you and Mustang disappear to all afternoon?” Havoc scratched at his chin.

“The accounting department,” she said crisply, following Mustang’s carefully crafted excuse.

“You were there for ages. Did it not go well?”

She couldn’t resist. “No, it went very well. Mustang was just very thorough.”

“I did hear a rumor yesterday—I can’t wait to tell the boss.”

“A rumor?” Mustang asked, as if he could appear whenever anyone mentioned him. He swept over to his desk, plunking a briefcase on top.

Riza tensed, afraid there were rumors of a certain lieutenant colonel and his adjutant brazenly breaking fraternization laws.

“Some of the secretaries were talking—including Grumman’s. Rumor has it a certain Flame Alchemist is being put up for a promotion to colonel.”

Riza felt her body flush pleasantly as Mustang’s eyes darted to her. He looked incredibly smug.

“I wonder when it will be official,” Mustang said. “I should drop by Grumman’s for one of our chess games—see if he talks.”

“Until it’s official, it doesn’t count,” Riza said, although she was already anticipating celebrating his promotion in a proper bed…

“I’ll be sure to ask Grumman for it to be expedited,” he said, staring at her a little too intently. Havoc watched with amusement.

“Good idea,” she said. She returned to her work.

“Boss, have you noticed Hawkeye seems well rested today?” Havoc asked, still watching them closely.

Mustang’s grin could not have been more arrogant, but he played it off like it was because she gave in before the month was out.

“You know, she does. Release a little tension, lieutenant?”

Riza didn’t look up, acting absorbed in her work. “Yes, sir. Four times, in fact.” Three with Mustang, and once before bed.

It was worth confessing just to watch him and Havoc practically swallow their tongues.

“Being a woman means not only can I hold out longer when I choose to, I can also…” she searched for the word, “produce more. It’s a pity the military doesn’t utilize women more. We are very efficient.”

“Is that a challenge?” Mustang asked, popping his knuckles.

“No, no, no, you get your evil ideas under control!” Havoc said. “No more!”

And while Mustang assured Havoc he was joking, Riza heard the promise in his voice. Round two between them was going to be unforgettable.