#she works best with people who can understand that and provide solid reassurance that shes loved

[wildstar25]

How much does your OC's background and origin affect their approach to relationships? Are there specific insecurities or preferences that lead on from their past?

I would say Arsay's background- a sole miqo'te abandoned by her parents to be raised on a tiny lalafell inhabited island in the middle of the south seas- absolutely had a huge impact to how she goes about her relationships.

She desperately wants to feel like she matters to others, that she's someone who can't be easily forgotten about or left behind. At the same time she has a very hard time shaking off the feeling like shes a burden to those around her. She's internalized a lot of guilt over the fact that Emrara Emra had to give up their dreams in order to raise her. It's often without thinking that Arsay to dismisses her own wants and needs in favour of tending to the person/people she cares about. She has to feel like she's of use to them or she doesn't feel like she deserves their time/affection (and fears that they will leave and forget her)

The reason why G'raha and Y'shtola work so well for Arsay is that they both counteract those big insecurities quite regularly.

G'raha proved time and again how much he thinks about Arsay. He couldn't forget her no matter how much time passed in the 8th calamity timeline or in the First. He is always the first to chime in with how valuable he thinks she is and how her skills set her apart from anyone else hes ever met. He wants to be burdened by her, he wants to be as important to her as she is to him. Meanwhile, Y'shtola provides Arsay with assurance honestly just by being there. If Shtola didn't want Arsay around she would have made it absolutely clear. And like G'raha, Y'shtola has always made it clear that she does not want Arsay to hide things from her nor does she want Arsay to take on the world by herself. She's always looking out for Arsay just as much as Arsay is looking out for her.

Beyond that, it's telling that Arsay ended up with two Miqo'te who -like her- was given up by their birth family for one reason or another and raised far from the traditional miqo'te norm. Obviously Raha and Shtola had some early childhood within their tribes but their formative years were outside of that. Arsay always wanted to find someone she could really connect and feel comfortable with and that's what she did!

[meili-sheep]

You knew this was coming at some point. The harem with Duke and Lady? Perhaps the pet’s ratings of the harem as well? If you don’t mind?

OK so lets start off by saying The pet's Rating of Diluc.

Like Duke, Diluc is a 10/10. Best friend for life. Never will be topped perfect score. Lady is 9.9/10 still great. A good friend but not Diluc and that's the key.

To Lady, on the other hand he's like a 9.5/10. Definitely great and near perfection but the only one who is perfect is Lady herself. Oh and Duke's rating is like 5. Some days he's a 6. Others he's a 4. but that's siblings for you.

Albedo

So Albedo isn't really a pet guy and had to be told a few times not to run experiments on Diluc's pets. And this has rather tanked his ranking with both pets. Duke a little more forgives tho, and after the treatment was corrected, they started to get along great. So with Duke he's at like a 6.3, and it's getting higher because Albedo keeps making him special treats. They are honestly just biscuits to help common issues in basset hounds.

Lady, though is still very, very suspicious and tends to avoid Albedo if she can. And of the pair, she's the only one who's a little more suspicious of people approaching Diluc to start. She's not really fond of people getting too Diluc. But just like Duke Albedo does bring her special treats, so 3.

Al Haitham

So out of all of the harem, Al Haitham is the most indifferent towards the pets. Which, funny enough, makes him Lady's favorite. It also helps that he'll sit down and read. And Lady will jump in his lap, and he has no issues sitting there and petting her until she's bored. So a very solid 5. Don't expect a rating higher than that from her.

Now Duke. He loves how Al Haitham smells. I think he in generally like the leafy smell that comes from people who use Dendro. Al Haitham, however not a fan of Duke's slobber. He's pretty understanding, though, and gets that... In some ways, these pets provide Diluc with something he can't, so you know. It's fine. he probably actually likes taking Duke for runs and walks, though. Which automatically puts him at a 7.

Ayato

Ok so Ayato adores Duke. He loves his soft fur his floppy ears and his sad looking face. And he will actively be involved in Duke's care. He just likes dogs that much. I think he also likes knowing Diluc has someone so Loyal following him around. It's a little reassuring. So for that Ayato is probably Duke's favorite at a 9.

Lady, however. She will just stare at Ayato from afar. Often playing this, his sleeves are enough to tear before hurrying off. They do not care for each other. But it does make Ayato reconsider his opinion on cats when he sees Lady with Diluc. As she is happy, calmer, and happier. And often, she lets Ayato know when Diluc is hurt by purring abnormally loudly against Diluc. Lady still doesn't think great of Ayato, though, and thinks of him mostly as a toy. So 1. His sleeves even aren't that fun to tear.

Childe

So. I'll be honest. Childe is very, VERY jealous of how much attention the pets get. Like, HE UNDERSTANDS why the pets get so much attention. Because they are lives, Diluc is responsible for, BUT THEY ARE ANIMALS. WHY DO THEY GET SO MUCH ATTENTION. They don't even get that much attention. It's just that Diluc's attention isn't 100% on Childe.

But Duke? Duke totally loves Childe. Like really best buddy and friend. Childe ends up warming up to Duke once he learns that not that Duke's breed are hunting dogs. But Diluc actually trained Duke to hunt. Diluc took them out once, and Childe was amazed. And started taking Duke out all the time, so 8.9, almost a 9.

Lady, however. Is very indifferent to Childe. And honestly likes actively taking attention from Childe. But against Lady is ultimately a predator and Childe respects that. So it works out 2.

Eula

So I've mentioned before some Eula and Duke headcanons before because, again, Duke would love Eula. Because she would always secretly pet him and give him treats when no one is looking. He would absolutely be that dog in the romantic movies who like ties up his owner with the pretty lady by running around them while on his leash. 8.5

Now Lady tolerates Eula. Diluc is happy when Eula is around, and so the dog and Lady is happy when the others are happy. So 3.7, still not a fan of when someone takes Diluc's attention away from her.

Itto

So the big guy loves both of Diluc's pets and enjoys Itto's company in return. Well, Duke does. Itto tends to be waaaay too much for Lady, and has a bad habit of following her and chasing her. Which Diluc quickly corrects when he notices that she's stressed. 2. He's only above Ayato because He does try to be more gentle.

Duke, though, loves the attention. He loves that Itto takes him out to sniff out Onikabuto for him. Just Itto is a high-energy guy, and Duke's got the endurance to steadily keep up. Plus it's nice he gets to come back and take and nice cuddly nap with Diluc. 7.8.

Kaveh

Honestly, between he and Thoma are the most liked by the pets in general. As in. Both Lady and Duke like him. Especially after he builds Duke a custom dog house and Lady a special scratching post. Honestly, Diluc probably has a room for each pet, and Kaveh goes ham designing things for the rooms. So that's a big old 7.5 from Duke. Could use more cuddles and treats. And a very high 4.9 from Lady. She'd like him more if he settled down and petted her. Maybe some more fish.

Thoma

Like Kaveh both pets really love when Thoma comes to visit. And while Kaveh makes buildings for the pets. Thoma knits sweaters. Duke is... Less of a fan of this. Lady though. Really likes it because Thoma normally grooms them both when he dresses them and Loves a good brushing. So again, 4.9 from Lady. Duke, though, while not a fan of the sweaters, still loves the pets, belly rubs, and general care 8.4.

Xiao

So Xiao doesn't understand pets super well. He doesn't quite get the companion nature of animals. So he originally thinks Diluc got the pets as like protection, and then he meets Duke and is just like

"This think protects?? It looks so... Floppy and sad."

Duke, honestly, probably is a little uncomfortable around Xiao to start. As I think the Karmic debt probably doesn't have a good smell. But other times, Xiao smells really good. Duke is a little confused by this but probably starts alerting Diluc when Xiao is hurting. Which earns him lots of hugs and pets. And a bit of respect from Xiao 7.

Lady is the one Xiao respects more from the start. Because she defiantly has a look of. "Bother Diluc, and I'll cut you," Which he approves of. So They end up getting along decently well. And You know how purring helps heal wounds? Well, it also helps ease the pain of karmic debt. 4.

Zhongli

So Zhongli is a hold man who will happily sit out with a good book and tea while petting a cat in his lap and a puppy sleeps at his feet. it's very content. He's pretty active in taking care of Diluc's pets with him so both generally enjoy his company.

Lady being a cat, still isn't super fond of the lizard-smelling guy and plays a little aggressively with him. 3

Duke wishes that there was more playing in general, but he is content with just being tossed snacks. Diluc has had to tell Zhongli more than once that

"No, Duke can't eat that!"

"But... he looks so sad. he really wants it..."

"It will make him sick!"

8. He appreciates the effort.

[stariwrites]

👀👀👀👀 Ship your moots

Alright I’m putting this under a readmore because I’m going to try and include all of my moots so let’s see how I do. They’re going to be split up half and half so this is the first half. I’m determined also I may have gone overboard but it’s chill

Edit: adding more here!

@dabitdabi Keigo for sure, they’d be so powerful it would be insane😩, he’d be so cute and flustered and Cheshire is such a sweetheart he’d practically drop everything for her if she needed it. The type of couple who compliment each other, she’d remind him to take care of himself and make sure he knows that shes somebody he can depend on/talk to at the end of the day. And he’ll take care of her too, make sure he remembers her favorite food, flower, blanket you name it he’ll remember.

@sleepyrintaro (ik you’re on a hiatus love but I wanted to include you too) Kuroo, another absolute unit. When I tell you they’re both geniuses and when they’re together they’re either the most intelligent people or have one brain cell shared and there’s no in between, there’s no in between. Rin is amazing and is so kind/has such a big heart the two of them would have so much fun together and be so fun to be around. Kuroo would love hearing about psychology and it would basically turn into talking about hyperfixations going back and forth.

@rukunas Sukuna hands down. Rue is so sweet and has the best vibes and I feel like Sukuna would be drawn to that. The soft but only for you trope definitely comes into play here. Sukuna would look so intimidating and tease Rue but then get flustered half way through. King of curses or not he can be really intimidating one minute but as soon as you need him he’s instantly like ‘what’s wrong baby what happened?’ (Basically the Gordon Ramsey with kids vs with adults comes into play here).

@kkodzvken Dabi or Toga, Lune is a sweetheart and I feel like both Dabi and Toga would look at them and instantly think ‘I want to protect them.’ This relationship would be very cute in its own way because they’d all watch out for each other. Dabi would smile so fondly it would be a crime, but if he’s ever called out on it he would 100% deny it and you can’t convince me otherwise. He’d let Lune wear his coat around if they wanted to. With Toga, she’d do skin care (if you wanted to) and would adore shopping dates! Loves cuddling and just snuggling up to you too!

@katslutski I cannot stress this enough: Nanami Kento. They both value independence and Nanami would take care of you if you needed it. He’d love chilling and watching movies or reading quietly with Kat and nobody can convince me otherwise. Slow dancing in a kitchen would be a must at least once. They’d have separate apartments but spend a lot of time at the others. He’d send texts from time to time asking how she is and would enjoy making dinner together with her. Nothing relaxes him more than the time they have together. Kat is so fun to talk to and is honestly amazing and so is Nanami so they would for sure have the best convos too.

@pupimouto Chuuya hands down. Babi is honestly amazing and Chuuya would be so enamored. He’d also have the thought of ‘Must protect.’ Adores her, the red and pink aesthetic for sure. He’d get into a fight if anybody looked at her the wrong way. If there’s a bad day he’d be there to hold her close to her and reassure her and if she kisses him or holds his hand/tells him she loves him? Gone he has ascended, he’ll smile for the rest of the day.

@oilivia Oikawa. Liv deserves the best and who is Oikawa if he doesn’t provide? Their relationship is super fun, he’d listen to her playlists and playfully tease her a bit but it’s all in good fun. (He makes sure not to go too far and cross a line) the type of relationship where they both bicker playfully, but also have really deep convos. They also balance each other out and help each other to either break out of their shell or relax and just focus on the present. Communication between them is amazing, they make it look so easy. Both of them are able to confide in the other knowing it’s a safe space and there will be no judgement. Oikawa also loves to fluster her in public by calling her cute pet names.

@bakugohoex Jean Kirschtein, they’re able to be independent but also comes together. The best friends before being lovers type of thing. Ria is amazing and Jean would be there to hang out with her and makes sure to call her beautiful everyday. He adores the little domestic moments the most and would love hearing about her day and would check in throughout the day with ‘Hey baby how are you doing?’ Attentive and he’s a very good listener. They’d both work so well together! He seems like the type to theorize movies and so they’d both exchange their own and see who’s closer to what’s actually going on.

@chaos-night *deep inhale* ATSUHIRO SAKO please they’d be so perfect I’m not even kidding! He’d take up ballroom dancing lessons so they could dance in the kitchen and their relationship would be so soft and wholesome. Chaos is a wonderful person and is a great listener as well as fun to talk to so they would both revel in each other’s presence. Atsuhiro would shower her in praise all the time. He’d adore her so much and everyday would fall a little more in love with her. King of romantic dates whether it’s extravagant or just hanging out and watching movies either way he adores it. Will hold her close to his chest as they sleep whispering how much he loves her and how lucky he is to be with her.

@raes-still-rambling the sweetest I can’t even articulate. Tamaki Amajiki they would work so well together. He’d find so much comfort in them. His favorite would be if they just cuddled together and watched a movie. He isn’t big on romance but he’d put his all into it regardless. Loves holding their hand and would smile softly whenever he sees her. They’d definitely have a cuddling playlist and he’d show them he loves them through small actions

@m-mortimer Christa and Ymir 100%. Izzie has such a big heart and I feel like she’d fit into this dynamic so well! They’d both take care of her, Ymir has strong mommy dom energy and would make sure both her girls are doing well. They would all live the cottage core lesbian dream I guarantee you. Would dance around and just have a lot of laughs together, making flower crowns would be an absolute must. They’d all take care of each other and would help if any of them got into a bad headspace. This relationship would feel like a home.

@deludedimagines Levi Ackerman, Sorcha has to be one of the coolest people ever and who better to match that energy than Humanity’s Strongest. Their relationship would be comfort. Both of them would find solace in each other whether it be making tea late at night to playing games in the morning. The two of them would work so well together, completely content to dwell in the comfortable silence they’ve created. They’d also clean together with soft music playing in the background and Levi can’t get enough of it. Their relationship is full of understanding one another. The phrase/lyrics “Life is not the things that we do it’s who we’re doing them with” very much applies here.

@fuwushiguro Toji Fushiguro no questions asked. The most interesting and fun relationship ever, Venus is a goddess and is so kind/compassionate Toji would start out being like ‘I have no intention of falling in love’ and then before he knows it he’s in love. Would protect her no matter what, they would have amazing stories. Their life would be like a movie. He’d hold her and in the soft moments tell her how much he loves her and how he feels complete with them together. He’s the type to use action instead of words so if he sees her sad? He’s off to get ice cream and put on her favorite comfort movie. He grumbles about her making him soft but when she just gives him a smile and says he likes it he can’t help but smile fondly, he can’t argue with that.

@fushigurocockslut Mahito, they too have a fun relationship. Tessa is one of the chillest people I’ve ever had the joy of knowing and her and Mahito would be so chaotic im living for it. They share one brain cell and it’s to wreak total havoc, both of them have the friendship dynamic down to the point where people have to ask if they’re dating or just close friends. Mahito loves spending time with her and they both would absolutely prank the hell out of Nanami. Also they’d find/have the coolest hang outs to chill and listen to music, eat snacks and vibe. Although they may be chaotic they’d also have really chill moments where they would just relax and stargaze. The two of them could talk about everything and anything.

@doinmybesthere Shoto Todoroki. Emme has a huge heart with so much love and she deserves to receive all that love back and more. Shoto is not big on pda, but behind closed doors he loves intimacy. In the quiet moments of just waking up he’d kiss her forehead with a groggy ‘Good morning love’ their dynamic is ‘Two sweethearts in a room they might love each other unconditionally’ and then they did. Slow dancing in the kitchen? Absolutely. Shoto is also attentive and adores Emme’s beautiful singing voice, on bad nights he loves nothing more than to feel her fingers in his hair and hear her voice as he drifts off. If the roles are reversed he holds her to his chest and hums softly while rubbing soothing circles against her back. Their relationship is wholesome and they bring out the best in each other.

@izukine Takemichi for sure. Both would try and protect the other and they’d both be flustered by the other since they’d both of the thought process of ‘Theyre so cute my heart feels like it’s about to burst’ Liyah is so friendly and awesome and I feel like Takemichi would be drawn to that. Whether it be walking around or just chilling both of them would just like the time they spend together. Every time Takemichi sees her he instantly perks up and has a cute smile on his face. Their relationship holds solid communication and trust.

@cupcake-rogue Bakugou Katsuki without question. King of making sure Star is taken care of and has a soft spot for her. Everybody makes fun of him for it, but he doesn’t care. Star would mean the world to him and knowing that he comes home to see her face would relax him and keep him calm. He loves holding her in his arms and if she runs her fingers through his scalp he’s gone. Instantly falls asleep. Uses actions over words so he’ll make sure he has her favorite foods/drinks stalked in the fridge. If he notices it’s a bad day he’ll ask how he can make it better. The two of them would have a relationship that’s all about care.

@nomadmilk Kirishima Eijirou both of them take care of each other and have so much fun together. Matching outfits? Sure. Cute couple photos? Absolutely! They’re the definition of couple aesthetic/goals. Love being affectionate, it doesn’t matter if they’re in public or not. Kirishima will constantly praise Noma and be like ‘that’s my baby!’ Whenever you do something. He loves supporting you and if you ever comfort him/do the same he’ll be so happy. Loves to hold and cuddle Noma a lot. Both of them together would radiate so much love they both deserve wonderful things.

If I didn’t get to you this round just you wait cause tomorrow is part 2

[needleanddead]

how. how would ur ocs comfort someone who is crying that they are close to? :(

Lucas isn't actually all that good at comfort - he's kind of awkward around too much emotion - but he does his best. He'll wrap his arms around them and try and murmur low, gruff reassurances into their ear that things are going to be fine. He's a willing listener, if they're willing to tell him what's wrong; and honestly, he'd prefer that.

Cass comforts people by finding out exactly who hurt them and making plans to make sure that they're hurt. He doesn't have many friends - people tend to get close to him for other reasons, and very few people understand him - so the few people he does count amongst that number are important to him. If he can do something about it, he will.

Constance isn't good with other people; she's not good with crying, either. She doesn't want to get too close to anyone who's doing anything messy. She'll gently reach over and timidly pet them on the back (with gloved hands, naturally) and try and make what she thinks passes for comforting noises, but she really doesn't know what to do. What she needs to be told is how she can help; whether she can make them a cup of tea, or they'd rather her just sit with them, or watch some kind of movie or something. She does far better with that kind of solid plan.

Percy is an ideal candidate for this. He's 'tea and sympathy' all of the way; and if he likes them and has no plans to actually take them as a victim, so much the better. He's cultivated his entire persona around being comforting and easy-to-trust and making people feel better. He'll listen and give good advice and gently touch their back with a smile that makes someone feel as though everything is going to turn out alright in the end.

True Form Van is really not a good option for this. His idea of comfort is to make a person concentrate on someone else; in his case, it's very likely that the thing that they ought to be concentrating on is 'making sure he doesn't get bored with their tears and kill them'.

Mortal Glamour Van is a . . . better option. He's still quite awkward about it all; human emotions are a minefield of things he doesn't quite understand! But he makes a genuine effort to find out why they're upset and what he can do to help. He won't initiate hugs - he's a touch too shy for that - but he's very good at them if the other person starts them off!

Thorne is really happy to listen to someone he cares about talk. He's incredibly lonely; even if they're upset, he's perfectly happy to provide a shoulder to cry on. It's nice for him just to know someone else is around! He's the most likely to try and cheer someone up with actions; to do something silly, or try and take them out drinking, or surprise them by dunking cold water over their head. It doesn't always work, but at least they'll have something else to be upset about.

Rose is a good listener. That's their best trait when somebody is upset; they listen, and they'll try and make tea or bring the upset party something they've baked. They're not good at giving advice (they're extremely conflict-averse themselves and they second-guess everything they say), but if the other person just needs someone to be with whilst they cry and confess, Rose is good for that!

Teddy is a very good friend to have if someone is upset; providing that they're not averse to sudden contact and very tight hugs. He's another 'distract from the sad thing' type comforter; he'll watch a movie or paint their nails or drag them out to a party he heard about on the grapevine, and all in all try and make sure they forget the reason they were upset in the first place.

[fullmetalscullyy]

the way it was - chapter 41

summary: what if riza never went to war? riza hawkeye has just married the man she loves. six months into their marriage, an unexpected surprise stops her from following roy to the military. a canon divergence au that explores what might have happened had riza been unable to join the military. there will be plenty of family fluff, angst, and royai.

rated: m | warnings: graphic depictions of violence (updated)

read on ao3

1915

 and i’ll see you in the high and low

 in the high and low i’ll find you

“Are you ready?”

“Hm?” Roy’s head turned towards her. She’d broken him out of his thoughts. His expression had been miles away as he sat on the edge of his hospital bed in quiet contemplation. Riza was curious about what had taken up so much of his attention but didn’t enquire. If he wanted to share, he would.

“I asked if you were ready to go,” she explained softly.

“Oh, yes.” Roy straightened his spine and placed both hands flat on his thighs. “I’m ready.”

Riza took his hand in hers and angled her body so they were walking side by side. Her other hand rose to grasp his elbow, cradling it within her palm.

“Thank you,” Roy smiled. He gave her hand a tiny nudge with his elbow.

“It’s no problem, Roy. You know that.”

“I know, but you’ve helped me so much and without complaint.”

Riza laughed to herself. “I’m happy to help.”

“How is your neck? And your shoulder? Let me know if you need to stop or sit down.”

“They’re fine, Roy. There’s no pain. And I will, don’t worry.”

Yesterday while they’d been on their first walk out of their room Riza had a sudden bout of light-headedness. They’d been on their way to a payphone to finally call Chris, after a few days of no contact. Breda had appointed himself their liaison and provided her with an update on their current situation, as both Roy and Riza had been on bedrest since their arrival. They were itching to speak to her, and possibly speak to Mia, but it hadn’t come to pass. On their way there Riza had clumsily fallen into a chair as her vision blurred into a solid grey colour, letting go of Roy and frightening him with her abrupt silence. The feeling had passed over her in a slow wave as she clutched at her forehead. It was painless but disorientating. While Roy had frantically called her name, a nurse found them and recognised Riza’s signs. She placated Roy with a quick explanation as Riza was unable to do it herself. All of her focus was on breathing and not passing out, so was unable to formulate any kind of sentence. They both were promptly whisked back to their room after that and it seemed Roy wouldn’t be quick to forget about that incident.

She’d lost a lot of blood, so her body was still trying to recover it, the doctor had explained. Riza started to worry she may be kept in longer than Roy. Of course, she was concerned for herself and her own wellbeing. The sooner she recovered, the sooner her children could come home to her. But, if Roy was discharged by himself… Their home wasn’t equipped for housing someone who was blind. She had to get things organised, rearrange rooms, create paths for him…

And then there was their children to think about as well. She couldn’t take care of them while being so weak. Thankfully, they were still in Xing with Chris and the girls. Riza would love for them to come home, but it wasn’t feasible or practical. If they did they’d have to stay with Chris and both parents knew Mia would be wondering where they were. She’d be constantly asking after them. To save her any worry and stress, they agreed, if it was all right with Chris, to keep them both in Xing until they left the hospital. It saved them giving an explanation to a child who was too young to understand properly what had happened to them.

Breda confirmed Chris had agreed to that plan. She’d been thinking the same thing too. Riza was grateful to have one weight lifted off her mind, but all those thoughts and worries were still threatening to give her a headache.

“What are you thinking about?” Roy’s expression was one of concentration, as if he were listening to something intently. However, she hadn’t said a word or uttered a sound.

One thing that did strike Riza was he could still pick up on a shift in her mood. It may not be the same as before, but it made her smile to know there was still some sort of connection between them.

But that smile quickly fell.

“The future,” Riza replied.

Roy patted her arm in sympathy and understanding. He kept it there too, which was a comfort. He was supporting her, as she was doing the same to him.

“I was thinking about when we’ll be discharged,” she elaborated further. “About whether or not we’ll leave at the same time, or if one of us will go first.”

“I was wondering that too,” Roy admitted. “The doctors are pleased with your progress, but you lost a lot of blood and –” He cut himself off for a moment, swallowing thickly as he stumbled over the memory of their time in the tunnels. “And you need time to recover. It’s a large wound, they tell me.” The pressure on her forearm increased. “They need to keep you in for further observation to ensure it doesn’t get infected.”

Riza knew all of this already but reasoned if it helped Roy to find some semblance of peace to go through everything aloud then she wouldn’t take that away from him.

“My hands are still pretty bad too,” he added. “The surgery went well but there was a lot of damage. I need to be kept in for them, not to mention for rehabilitation as well.”

“I just don’t want you to be sent home without me,” she admitted quietly.

“I know. I don’t particularly want to go home by myself either.” He chuckled to himself, “I would be a walking hazard without you.”

She appreciated his attempt to lighten the mood, however, the worry still weighed heavily on her mind.

“I don’t think they would let me leave without some kind of system of care in place though,” Roy mused.

“Once your hands are better you’ll need to start practicing with your cane.”

He pouted playfully. “But you’re a much preferable guide.”

Riza smirked. “Unfortunately, I can’t be with you every minute of every day.”

Roy hummed. “I don’t know, that does sound pretty wonderful to me.”

“You know what I mean,” she scolded lightly, but let out a light laugh.

“I know, love,” he reassured with a smile. “How do you feel about us potentially training Hayate to help me out around the house?”

Riza bit her lip. “That’s a lot to put on him.”

“I don’t mean full-time. It was mostly for helping me move around.”

“He’s not trained for that though,” she argued.

“It was just a thought.” He lifted a hand in surrender. “Obviously if you’re not happy with it then we won’t. My only thought was he’s such a good dog already and can listen very well. He’s so attentive. He’d probably work very well as a service dog.”

“With the correct training from the correct people, he probably would, yes.”

“I don’t think it would work out anyway,” Roy sighed heavily.

“Why the sudden change of heart?” She was confused.

“Can you imagine me trying to take Mia’s best friend away from her?”

Riza snorted lightly. “They are inseparable,” she agreed.

“No, I couldn’t tear those two apart. That wouldn’t be fair. Who knows,” Roy shrugged, “it may come naturally to us. Anyway, we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. I can ask for an update and a time estimate from the doctors this afternoon. That may put our minds at rest a little?”

“I think that’s a good idea,” Riza nodded. “It would be nice to know some kind of timeframe, if possible, and find out what we have to work with.”

“And we won’t be without help. The team has already discussed this scenario too, apparently.”

Riza cocked her head towards him in surprise.

“If I was to be discharged first, they offered their assistance at home. Rebecca did too. Although,” Roy smirked, “I think she only wants to make sure I don’t destroy the place on your behalf,” he quipped.

“They really offered?”

Roy nodded. “They’re happy to help out.”

Riza was touched. A fond smile spread across her face as she thought of the men who’d devoted their lives to her husband. She knew they were close but hadn’t realised that would extend to outside their work lives as well. Riza didn’t know why though, she suddenly thought. They already thought of themselves as unofficial uncles to Mia, and now to Maes as well. They’d also already offered such assistance to her when Roy was in the hospital last year. After that realisation, Riza supposed it would be a natural progression. Her smile grew wider.

“They’re a good group of people.”

Roy hummed in agreement. “The best group of people.”

They continued on their walk and reached their destination, a payphone.

“We’re here.”

“Trip number two was a success,” he beamed.

“It was, thankfully,” Riza chuckled. She guided Roy over to a chair beside the phone and sat him down. Rebecca had brought her purse in from home, so Riza rummaged around within for the spare change she needed to make the call.

The phone rang four times before someone answered.

“Hello?” The gruff voice on the other side of the line made Riza smile immediately. It was a welcome sound and a voice she’d missed hearing.

“Chris? It’s Riza.”

She didn’t speak until after a short pause. “Riza?” Before she could open her mouth to confirm, Chris called Vanessa’s name, Riza assumed over her shoulder, holding the receiver away. “Good to finally hear from you, Riza.

“I know. Sorry it’s been a while.”

Chris scoffed. “No need to apologise for that. Breda has kept me up to date. How are you doing?”

We’re okay.” She glanced over at Roy who was trying to listen in to their conversation. “A little beat up, but all right.”

“Beat up?” Her question was short and sharp.

Perhaps Breda hadn’t shared some of the finer details with Chris.

“Yes. I sustained some injuries, but they’re being treated. We’re calling from the hospital.”

“And Roy? How’s he?”

Breda definitely hadn’t shared all of the details.

“Lieutenant Breda only really told me you were alive and would be all right,” Chris continued.

Riza could appreciate that. How does one stranger tell another that their son was now blind and their daughter-in-law suffered life threatening injuries?

She glanced over at Roy, noticing how his lips were pressed into a thin line. He gestured for the phone. It was time for him to break the news of his new condition.

“He wants to tell you himself,” she replied carefully.

Chris was quiet for a second. “All right.” Her words were sombre as she spoke.

“Hi, Chris,” Roy greeted.

Riza silently remained by his side. She placed a hand atop his head as he informed his mother that he was now blind and what had happened to his hands. Her fingers ran through his hair, playing with his dark tresses to try comfort and soothe him.

“Yeah… We won.”

A proud smile spread across Riza’s face as Roy broke their other news.

A chuckle left him as Chris spoke again. “I know, I know,” Roy relented. “There’s a long way to go yet, but yes, we did it. The plan succeeded.”

They spoke back and forth for a few more moments before Roy paused.

“Mia?” Roy’s head turned towards Riza’s body, facing into her stomach. Her fingers froze in his hair as she spotted his expectant look. Riza’s heart leapt into her throat. “Yes, please. If you could put her on.”

There was a sudden movement that disrupted Riza from her thoughts. Roy had felt out the chair next to him and slid over. The one he’d vacated was offered to Riza, and she took it immediately. The cord of the phone was long enough so they could sit with their heads together and place the phone in between them, letting both parents speak to their daughter.

The other line was quiet. Riza held her breath and waited. There was some shuffling then they heard Mia speak in a quiet voice, sounding far away.

“Mia?” Riza’s voice caught in her throat as she spoke her daughter’s name with so much hope and excitement. She was almost overwhelmed with how much she missed her children and couldn’t wait to hear her voice again.

“Mummy?”

Relief like no other flowed through Riza’s veins. She relaxed completely into her chair with her elation. “Mia, hi. It’s Mum. Dad’s here too.”

“Hey, Mia,” he greeted. Roy’s voice sounded thick as he spoke but there was the widest grin on his face.

“Hi!” Her reply was bright and excited, nothing like the shy, tentative tone she’d used to first greet them. “I miss you!”

“I know, sweetie. I know, we miss you too. So much.”

“It’s been a long time since we talked, but Grandma said that’s okay because it means I would have a lot more to tell you when you phoned, and we could talk for longer!”

Both parents laughed together. Riza’s eyes closed as she leaned her head against Roy’s. His arm wrapped around her shoulders tightly.

“We could talk to you forever, Mia,” Roy replied, “and we’d be more than happy to do it. How are you?”

“I’m okay! I’ve been having lots of fun.”

“That’s great,” Roy exclaimed. “I’m so happy that you have.”

“We’ve done loads since we last spoke! We’ve been to the park near the hotel almost every day. We’ve been to Xingese temples too which were so pretty! I want to go back but Grandma says we’ve got lots of other things to visit first before we can –”

Mia went on and on, regaling them of things she’d done since they last spoke. Both parents relaxed against one another, content and happy to let her speak and listen to all of her adventures. Riza had missed hearing about them.

“When will we get to come home?”

“We don’t know yet, Mia,” Riza answered after a brief pause. “You sound like you’re having too much fun to come home,” she quipped.

“I am, but I miss you! Maes does too. And I miss Hayate.”

Riza felt a pang in her chest. “I know you do. We miss you both terribly as well. But, if you hand the phone back to Grandma we can talk about when you might be able to?”

“Okay! She’s right here.”

“Goodbye, Mia Bear. I love you,” Riza added.

“Love you,” Roy chimed in, eager to say it himself.

“Love you too. Bye!”

Riza exhaled and tipped her head back. Roy gave her shoulders a quick squeeze, understanding every emotion she was currently going through, as he was experiencing the same. It was such a relief to hear Mia’s voice again after so long and to know she was happy, healthy, and okay.

“She’s a little whirlwind,” Chris remarked with a chuckle.

“Thank you for giving her the phone,” Roy replied.

“Of course, Roy Boy,” she dismissed, as if it were obvious she was going to do it in the first place. “Plus, she’s been pestering me non-stop for another chance to speak to you both,” Chris chuckled. “She’s taken it well though. There’s not been too many complaints.”

“What do you mean?” Roy was instantly alert. Riza shot him a worried look. He looked similar to how she felt. Was Mia doing okay?

“Relax,” Chris soothed in her gravelly voice. “She’s been fine. She’s a good and patient kid. Very understanding too. She’s missed you, that’s all. A typical kid thing.”

Roy exhaled in relief.

“When do you think you’ll be out of there?”

“We don’t know. I’m going to ask for an estimate this afternoon on when they think we’ll be discharged. Obviously with my blindness we’ll need to figure out the house first and then come up with some kind of plan to tell Mia…” Roy trailed off, realising that it may be even longer before they see their children.

“Don’t worry about a thing,” Chris announced firmly. “We’ve got more than enough to do over here to keep the kids occupied. You two focus on making yourselves better, all right? The more you do, the sooner they can come home. Let me know what the doctors say though, then we can take it from there.”

“Okay,” Roy exhaled. His shoulders settled and Roy nodded like all his fears had been alleviated somewhat. Chris’ support was extremely helpful and meant a lot as they tried to adjust to their lives now. “Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it, kid. We’ll get everything figured out and I’ll bring them back to you as soon as I can. Take care of yourselves.” The last part was almost a warning.

“We will. You too. And thank you, Chris.”

They shared a quick goodbye and hung up. Their walk back to the hospital room was quiet as they contemplated their conversation with Chris and Mia. It had been so lovely to hear their voices again. It had been too long, but there wasn’t much they could do about that. The important thing was it had happened, and they’d been able to speak with their daughter.

Once back in the room, Riza had finished helping Roy get settled when there was a knock at the door.

“Sir?”

“Come in, Fuery,” Roy beckoned.

His head popped around the door. He held onto it as he looked inside the room but didn’t take a step further inside. “Sir… Doctor Marcoh has just contacted us.” Fuery shifted and his expression turned hopeful for a second. “He has… a proposition for you. Regarding your eyes.”

Riza’s eyebrows lifted towards her hairline but Fuery didn’t let on anything further. Roy went still as he processed what Fuery had said.

“The stone?” His voice was low, almost reverent. Riza wasn’t sure what they were referring to, however from the way Roy spoke she could discern there was some gravity behind his words.

Fuery nodded. “Yes. He’s on his way in just now and wishes to speak to you, if that’s all right?”

“Yes, of course. Bring him in once he’s arrived.”

“Of course, sir.” Fuery left them in silence, closing the door quietly behind him.

“The stone,” Riza echoed, looking for further clarification.

Roy paused but then nodded. “Yes. It’s… Well, it may be a way for me to get my sight back.”

*      *      *      *      *      *      *       *      *      *      *

“Colonel? Riza?”

Riza looked up from the book on her lap as Breda’s head poked through the door.

“Oh.” Breda lowered his voice suddenly. “I didn’t realise he was asleep. Sorry,” he cringed.

She shot him a smile to placate any worry. “It’s okay,” Riza replied softly. She marked her place in the book with a finger so as not to lose it. “What’s up Breda?”

“Doctor Marcoh has arrived.”

Riza inhaled and nodded, understanding what that announcement meant. Roy would be getting his eyesight back today.

They’d spoken with Doctor Marcoh last week about using the stone. It was decided Havoc would be healed first, then Roy. They had to wait for him to arrive in Central, but Havoc’s procedure to return his ability to walk had been a success a few days ago. He was currently being monitored a few rooms down from them. Now, the Philosopher’s Stone would be used to give Roy his eyesight back.

“I understand,” she replied to Breda. “Thank you for letting us know.”

“There’s also someone else,” he interjected. “General Grumman has come for a visit. He’d like to visit as soon as possible if that’s all right with you both.”

That surprised Riza, however, it made sense if Grumman had been a mentor to Roy for years prior to their move to Central.

“Thank you, Breda. Can you give us ten minutes then send General Grumman in?”

“Will do.”

The door closed quietly behind him and Riza sighed as she stared down at her husband’s sleeping face.

In hospital Riza hadn’t needed to worry too much about Roy’s movements around the room without aid. It was mostly bare, aside from a chair and two beds, so the space was large enough to manoeuvre himself around safely. Regardless of that fact, Riza was always by his side to assist when needed. With the injuries on his hands, he’d been unable to hold a walking cane, but he was improving every day. However, she couldn’t help but run through plans in her mind for what would happen when they returned home. She’d need to reorganise and repurpose rooms. There would need to be clear pathways throughout their home which Roy could use and not hurt himself. Mia and Maes’ toys would need to be moved and placed in designated areas. They didn’t need him tripping over a stray soft bear or sliding on a forgotten pencil. Riza hadn’t had a chance to think about how they’d even begin to tell Mia that their father was blind. Now… She may not have to.

It was a bizarre concept, being able to cure the incurable so easily. She’d been made aware of what went into the Philosopher Stone and it set her on edge. It wasn’t right and Riza could never look at the stone for too long as it made her uncomfortable. However, it was Roy’s decision to use it. He didn’t like the thought of using the stone any more than she did, but it would restart him on a path they thought was lost to him. He’d still be able to remain in the military and work towards what he’d always wanted to do. And Roy was determined;. mMore than determined. As soon as the possibility had been planted inside his mind Riza could see him seriously considering it. Not much would turn him away from the prospect.

Ultimately, using the stone was on his conscience, not hers. But Roy’s was bearing the weight of so much already… However, it was his choice. He had plans, goals, ambitions… All to better this country and stop history from repeating itself. The stone would help, but was the moral cost worth it for him?

“Whatever it takes,” he’d informed her. His tone was determined, but there was a glimmer of grim acceptance in there too.

Riza reached over to gently place her hand on top of Roy’s in the bed. Her thumb swiped over the back of it as she tried to coax him awake. She’d decided sitting by Roy’s bedside in a chair rather than remaining in her own bed was easier to talk to the room and to him. In her own bed she was constantly twisting and turning her head and that was not the best course of action currently.

“Roy?”

He grunted softly in reply, stirring from his slumber.

“Roy, time to wake up.”

A feeble moan left him. His eyes opened briefly but fluttered closed as he quietly sighed and gave into the hold sleep still had on him.

“Roy.” Riza laughed quietly at his sleepy expression. She gave his fingers a gentle squeeze. “Doctor Marcoh is here to see you.”

She let that news sink in slowly and eventually he sighed. His eyes batted open groggily. “Okay, I’m up,” he grumbled.

“Did you sleep well?”

His head turned in her direction and he smiled. “I did. I didn’t even realise that I had.”

“You were pretty out of it,” Riza added.

“Your voice is so soothing and comforting to listen to, that’s why,” he grinned as Riza’s cheeks heated up slightly. “Did you keep reading ahead?”

“After you fell asleep I stopped reading aloud and continued on. It’s a good story. I like it.”

“I like it too. I like hearing you read it to me.”

“I can go back,” Riza revealed. “I marked where we finished together. I wouldn’t want you to miss the rest of the story.”

“You’re too good to me.”

Riza stood from her chair and slowly approached him. She placed a hand on his forearm, her touch feather light before increasing the pressure. A finger tapped his skin three times. Recognising her signal Roy inhaled in anticipation. Ever so softly she pressed her lips against his.

She hadn’t wanted to potentially frighten him with sudden touches after the Promised Day. Not while he was blind and not after the beating he’d received at the hands of Father while blind either. Riza had picked up on the fact he jumped whenever someone placed a hand on him without announcing themselves, so she’d come up with a code. With coded messages, they used two taps. With three taps, she announced she would be coming in for a kiss. All of her touches were soft, and she always made sure to announce herself with her voice before initiating contact.

“I love you, Roy.”

He stole another kiss with a grin. “Love you too.”

“Not only is Doctor Marcoh here, but General Grumman is as well. I’ve asked Breda to send him in shortly.”

Roy’s body stilled. “General Grumman?”

“I don’t know why,” Riza shook her head. “Breda only told me he was here to see you.”

With a sigh Roy sat up on his bed. He groaned and grimaced as the movement hit some of his aches and pains. Enough time had passed that their muscles had recovered, but there were still some bruises and stiffness.

Riza’s hand never moved from Roy’s forearm and she slid it slowly up his arm to give him some comfort. Her own injuries were much better. The strength of her painkillers had been reduced dramatically and the injuries were healing nicely. The skin around the one on her neck was pink and healthy, while the one on her shoulder was starting to heal over.

“I suppose I better make myself presentable for the General,” Roy grumbled.

Riza nodded and her hand slid away from his body.

While Roy rubbed his eyes tiredly Riza was struck with how similar he looked to Mia when she awoke in the morning. After their conversation on the phone Riza had made a point to call Chris every day. She couldn’t go that long again without speaking to Mia again. They’d even heard Maes gurgle happily through the receiver. Roy had gently but clumsily wiped away her tears after it. He’d accidentally poked her in the eye, which earned a giggle from them both, cheering Riza up a little. It wasn’t much, but it was enough.

“Colonel,” General Grumman greeted warmly as he entered the room. “Mrs. Mustang.” He bowed his head respectfully towards her.

“General, sir,” Roy welcomed.

“Good day, General,” Riza nodded.

“At ease, Mustang,” Grumman replied, waving Roy off as his hand lifted to salute while sitting up straighter in his bed.

“Understood.”

Riza watched on with interest. It was intriguing to note how much Roy’s voice changed whenever he was talking to a colleague or a superior. It was funny to think about, remembering just how goofy and dorky he could be with her and their family. It was not a bad thing he was acting differently. It was another part of him, and that part had always intrigued and fascinated Riza. She sat back in her chair to observe their conversation quietly.

“How are you doing, Mustang?”

“Well, sir. Just a few aches and pains but nothing major.”

The General lifted an eyebrow in doubt, making Riza wonder if he was already aware of his lost eyesight. She figured that at this point in time it would be common knowledge. Especially to the likes of General Grumman.

“Losing one’s eyesight would be considered major, Colonel.”

“I’m alive,” Roy replied with determination. “That’s enough for me for the moment.”

Riza kept her mouth shut about Doctor Marcoh’s visit. She already felt like she was privy to a conversation she shouldn’t be a part of so let them converse in peace.

“Mrs. Mustang?”

Her head lifted, surprised that the General had anything to say to her.

“If you wouldn’t mind, could I borrow you for a moment?”

Out the corner of her eye, Riza noted how Roy’s brow furrowed in confusion slightly at the request.

“There’s something I wish to discuss with you in private, if that’s all right?”

“Anything you have to say can be said in front of my husband, General,” Riza replied evenly.

In all honesty… She didn’t really want to be left alone with her grandfather. After her sudden phone call and his reaction to it, Riza thought he knew who she was but couldn’t be sure. The question was, did she have the energy to have that family discussion with him? Probably not. Regardless, it was true. She had no secrets to hide from Roy.

Grumman looked stumped for a second before he recovered. “Yes, of course. It’s regarding us.”

Roy tried to hide it but Riza could tell he was becoming even more confused.

“Yes?”

“Our paths have unfortunately never crossed in the past. There were various reasons for that, mostly tied with your parents.”

Roy’s head cocked to the side ever so subtly as he tried to put two and two together.

“I apologise for not coming forward to you sooner. I have my own reasons for that too, but wanted to apologise for not contacting you when I should have.” He looked and sounded sincere enough as he spoke.

“And when would that have been?” Riza was curious as to when he felt he “should” have reached out to her.

“News of your father’s passing reached me months afterwards. I thought that would’ve left you with no one, but I had no way of finding out where you were. Then Mustang breezed in and wouldn’t shut up about his wife and kid,” Grumman chuckled, gesturing towards Roy, who’d gone incredibly still. “And I overheard Lieutenant Catalina on the phone to you and say your name. I caught Mustang showing off a picture of his wife one time and finally recognised you.” He took a deep breath, meeting her gaze. “You look exactly like your mother.”

A lump suddenly formed inside Riza’s throat.

“So, I’ve been aware of you and your tie to Mustang for some time. And I’m sorry for not reaching out sooner.”

“Thank you, sir.” Her reply was even and polite. She held no grudge against this man, but she couldn’t trust him so easily. If he wanted to be a part of her life then he’d have to earn a place in it.

“I hear you have some wonderful children.” He shot her a toothy grin. “Congratulations, Riza. I’m extremely happy for you.”

At the mention of them, Riza’s stomach tightened but slowly loosened. Her expression softened and she nodded. “They are wonderful,” she agreed.

“I expect nothing in return,” Grumman reassured, lifting his hands as if surrendering. “Too much time may have passed, which I completely understand. But since I had the chance, I wanted to see you and speak to you at least once – and properly this time.”

“Thank you for that favour on the Promised Day,” Riza replied. “I really appreciated you trying to get through to Roy.”

“Of course,” he nodded. “It was the least I could do for my granddaughter.”

Finally, Roy clicked. His head had bowed to face the bed in silence but Riza knew his mind was moving a mile a minute, overflowing with questions. He wasn’t the only one, however, Riza had already dwelled on her musings about her grandfather years ago. It brought the questions back up to the surface, but she didn’t have the energy to be angry or upset at him for not contacting her. Like Grumman said, too much time had passed anyway. It was all in the past now.

“I hear Doctor Marcoh is here to see you,” Grumman announced, clearing his throat. “I’ll get going and let him get to work.”

Riza stood and approached her bed without a word. On the table beside it was her purse, which she reached for. Two pictures of their children were extracted from within and Riza turned to face her grandfather.

“Would you like to see your great grandchildren before you leave?”

He looked incredibly surprised by her offer. Riza may not have been able to trust him so easily but he’d reached out to her. He’d made an effort at least. Yes, it was late, and he may have some motive behind this meeting, but Riza would extend him the same courtesy he’d given her. She didn’t entirely trust his motives, but he’d acknowledged they were family and seemed genuine enough while discussing it. The least she could do in return was show him his great grandchildren.

Grumman nodded and Riza walked over to him. She handed the pictures over and heard him gasp. In the corner of his eyes there were tears, but they never fell.

“Mia and Maes,” Riza stated, pointing to each of them.

“They look like wonderful children,” he replied. His tone was respectful but held a hint of awe within it.

“They are,” Riza smiled fondly, gazing down at them.

“Thank you, Mrs. Mustang.” Grumman cleared his throat as he handed the pictures back to her. “I don’t expect anything in return, like I said, but I appreciate you showing these to me.”

Riza nodded and took them back from his outstretched hand.

“If you ever need anything,” he stressed, his sharp eyes meeting hers directly, “anything at all, you can give me a call. All right?”

“Thank you, sir.”

“Please, call me Grumman,” he insisted.

“Thank you, Grumman,” Riza nodded.

“I’ll be on my way. I’ll send Doctor Marcoh in. Take care of yourself, Mustang,” he called over Riza’s shoulder. Then, in a surprising move, he took her hand in his and gave it a gentle squeeze. “You too, dear.”

Once he’d left, Riza returned to the chair by Roy’s bedside.

“He’s your grandfather?”

She wondered what Roy’s reaction would be. It seemed he had no clue about it either. His exclamation was incredulous.

“Yes,” Riza confirmed.

“But… How…” Roy floundered as he tried to find the words he needed. “When did you know?”

“I didn’t know for sure. When we were in Central on our little holiday after Mia was born and the staff announced there was a General Grumman on the phone waiting to speak to you, I made the connection with his name then. I’d never seen him before though. Seeing him now, he’s still the spitting image of the picture I glanced at once when I was a child.”

“…And he never contacted you before now?” Roy’s question had an edge to it. He was mildly affronted on her behalf.

Riza shook his head. “Not to my knowledge.”

“He knew your name,” Roy muttered quietly to himself. “I told him. Not your last name, admittedly, but he’d heard your first name and seen your picture. He even pestered me to marry his granddaughter before he knew I was married to you.” His brow furrowed deeper, his expression darkening. “And he still did nothing?”

Riza shrugged. She didn’t know what to say to him. “He said he had his reasons for that. I don’t know what they could possibly be, nor am I interested to find out.”

Roy fell silent for a few moments. “You don’t trust him, do you?”

“I don’t know him, so no. I wish I could, given he’s my last remaining older family member, but I can’t. I don’t trust his motives either. Not after his actions. Despite his genuine tone, there’s something about him that I can’t put my finger on.”

His head bobbed a few times as he absorbed her statement. “I can’t believe he never contacted you.”

Riza grimaced. “My family history is… tricky. From what I remember of it, anyway. It could be to do with that, however, I never held any grudge towards him. I never really knew him and was too young. My parents cut ties when I was a baby.”

There was a sudden pressure on her hand. Roy had placed his atop hers, covering it with his warmth and comfort.

“If he’s holding onto that feud, or whatever it was, after all this time, then I’m not sure I want to waste my time trying with him. If not…” she trailed off, still unsure. “Anyway,” Riza announced, steering the conversation away from her thoughts. “Sorry to burst your bubble about him.”

Roy snorted and scoffed. “He was the one who taught and encouraged me to always work to serve my own agenda. It doesn’t surprise me he was doing it for himself. I’m more concerned about you, though.” His expression looked slightly anxious. “Are you okay about all of this?”

“Grumman acknowledging my existence doesn’t take away anything from my life, nor does it add to it. I don’t know what I will do, or what I want, regarding a relationship with my grandfather. Quite frankly I don’t really want to consider it right now either. There’s more important things due to happen,” she smiled, “like you getting your eyesight back.”

“I know, but… Well, whatever you decide, I will support you. No matter what.”

Riza smiled at him. She tapped the back of his hand with her finger three times and leaned in to kiss his cheek. “Thank you, Roy.”

“Of course,” he replied simply. “You’re welcome, Riza.”

Their conversation ended there as someone knocked on the door.

“Come in,” Riza called.

Doctor Marcoh poked his head around the door and looked at them expectantly. “Are you ready to begin the procedure, Colonel?”

[kyber-kisses]

Through A Mothers Eyes (Part 4)

Dean Winchester x Reader

Wanna start from the beginning? Here is the masterlist!

Warnings: slow burn, idiots to lovers, mutual pining, more best friend banter and crack. THEY ARE IDIOTS.

Summary:Mary meets an old friend of the Winchesters and apparently she’s the only one who can see the very obvious feelings the reader and Dean have for each other.

A/N: This series is always so much fine to write, I hope you guys enjoy this chapter and please tell me what you thought!

“Seriously, Dean. Why do you insist on doing this every damn time?”

There was a pause from the hunter across from you.“ . . . I’m gonna pretend you didn’t just say that.” Dean breathed from over the hood of the impala, glancing up at you momentarily.

Dunking your sponge back into the bucket, you slapped it across the window of the passenger door, scrubbing away the dust. You didn’t have a problem with helping Dean wash the car, you just didn’t understand why he had to wash it before every fucking hunt.

“It’s-“ you paused to look over at the clock on the wall of the bunkers garage. “Not even nine in the morning.”

“You offered to help.”

“I know- I just didn’t realize you wanted it done so soon.”

Dean looked up again, pausing his work to glare at you. “We’re leaving in a few hours for that case in Kentucky. When else were we gonna do it?”

You hummed a response that sounded a lot like an I don’t know before dropping your sponge back into the bucket and grabbing the hose. Twisting the nozzle, you aimed it at your bare feet to test the water pressure.

You were beginning to grow bored. You needed to spice things up.

“Hey, can you hand me that towe—“ the Winchester never got to finish his sentence before a solid jet of water hit him in the face. Your sudden attack coming out of nowhere when he looked up. A second later he was blinking water from his eyes and sending you a silent and irritated glare as he wiped his face. “Seriously? What are you, Fiv-“

Another jet of water to the face, this time unfortunately Deans mouth was open, resulting in him spitting out a generous amount when you stopped. They were quick spurts, your finger only squeezing the trigger for a fraction of a second- but they still managed to soak him. His black t-shirt clinging to his skin.

“Y/-”

Ptsssss

“You little-”

Ptsssss

“Im gonna-”

Ptsssss

Dean shot you another look, this time pursing his wet lips as he waited to see wether or not you would hit him again. “Bitch.”

“Slut.”

The hunter raised his eyebrows, leaning back slightly in mock surprise.

“What? Have you not seen those shorts you’re wearing?” You eyes going down to his denim shorts.

“Okay first of all, free bunker.” He raised a soapy finger . “And second, my legs look great in them. You wish you were me.”

“They sure do.” You nodded . . . proceeding then to squeeze the trigger once more and hit him in the face with another stream of water. “Whore.”

This time Dean reeled back, thoroughly annoyed by the water and wiping his face with the back of his hand as your grinned. “Fucking bitch-“ he fired back, pulling his arm back. Before you could even register what he was doing, a wet sponge smacked into your forehead with a hefty thwap, your head being knocked back by the force.

Games. It was always dumb games like this with you two.

You were stunned momentarily as the sponge hit the floor, and then you started to laugh. The sound bubbling up through you throat and successfully catching Dean off guard. He wasn’t expecting you to laugh. Not at all.

“Y/N?”

He shouldn’t have let his guard down because like a switch being flicked, you stopped laughing, raised the hose and sprayed him again.

“Dammit Y/N!” Dean snapped, spinning on his heel to find his own water bucket. A moment later he was picking it up and throwing its soapy contents over the hood of the car and right into you, successfully soaking you in one go. You stumbled back, sputtering- wiping suds from your eyes as you looked down at the clothes you were wearing, the cloth now stuck to your body.

There was a moment of silence as the both of you registered what had just happened, and then Dean chuckled, you following suit a moment later until the both of you were laughing hysterically, too occupied to notice the two people standing in the doorway of the bunkers garage.

“Are- are they ever not weird?” Mary tried, arms crossed as she watched the two of you continue to spiral into fits of hysteria.

“Mom.” Sam began, clamping a reassuring hand over her shoulder. “They share one brain cell between the two of them. Weird and dumb is all they know.”

*. *. *. *. * . *.

An hour later, your duffels were packed and laying on the war room table as you finished off a late breakfast, Mary seated across from you, nose deep in her laptop. Besides you, Sams feet were kicked up on the table as he flipped through a lore book.

It was much qiuter than it had been an hour ago to say the least. You now had dry clothes on, your hair still damp from Deans bucket of soapy water. It was only a moment later that Dean walked in with his bags slung around his shoulders. “Alright! Who’s ready for a family hunting trip?” He declared, dropping his bags down next to yours.

“What?”

“Hunting trip?”

The older Winchesters shoulders dropped as he looked over at his brother and mother. “Seriously? You'd have thought the bags would have given it away.” He gestured towards the table.

Swinging his feet to the ground, Sam set down his book. “What kind of case?”

“Vahmps-“ you mumbled through a mouthful of scrambled egg, pausing to swallow a second later and clear your throat. “Vamps. Small rural Kentucky town. Shouldn’t be too big of a deal.”

“You guys wanna join?”

Sam opened his mouth to respond but was stopped short when Mary suddenly butted in. “No!” She took a deep breath. “No. You go without us. Sam and I have a case to work a few towns over anyways-“

“We do?” He whispered, clearly taken off guard by his mothers words, but fortunately going unnoticed by you and Dean.

“We do!”

Dean ever so slightly titled his head is surprise. “You guys need help?”

“No!no you guys go deal with those vamps. Sam and I will be fine.” Mary nodded, giving you both a bright smile. Maybe this was exactly what you and Dean needed. Time together.

At this point you had stood up, slinging your bags over your shoulders right along side Dean, your plate still balanced in your hand and ready to be dropped off in the kitchen on your way out.

The two of you shared a confused look before shrugging and heading towards the hallway that led to the garage. “Okayyyyy. See you guys later then.” Dean began, sending his mom one more confused look over his shoulder before turning the corner after you.

Once Sam knew the two of you were out of earshot he spun on his heel to look at Mary. “What the hell?”

“Just trust me.”

“We’re gonna find them dead in a field somewhere.”

“Sam, I doubt that.” Mary sighed, closing her laptop. “Those two seem to work well together. They’ll be fine.”

“. . . Uh huh. I mean, they do work great together, I’ve seen them, but also. . . They’re idiots.”

“Maybe so.”

*. *. *. *. *. *.

The drive from Lebanon to Madisonville Kentucky was shorter than most of your drives for hunts. The seven hours from the bunker to there was easy. You provided the snacks and Dean had provided the music, the two of you falling into your usual hunting routine the moment the wheels of the impala hit the asphalt.

Feet pressed into the glove box, you balanced a bag of beef jerky of your knees, fiddling with the volume dials as you chewed- pausing only to hand Dean a piece when he extended his palm.

“You’re mom was acting really weird when we left.” You began, glancing up from your snack, Deans eyes focused on the road. No answer. “Dean!”

Your shout successfully knocked him out of the zone as his head whipped around to look at you. “What?”

“Dude, you were in the zone. What the hell were you thinking about?”

Not that he would ever admit it out loud or anything, but he had been thinking about you. Why? He had no clue. But for the past hour his mind had been pulling him back to that incident in the garage that resulted in you soaking wet with your clothes clinging to your skin. Why was he think about that? He shouldn't have been thinking about that---

“Dean!”

“Quit shouting damn it!” He sent you another glare before letting out a sigh.”Sorry, What were you saying?”

“I was trying to say that your mom was acting really weird when we left.”

“Don’t mind her. That’s just mom being mom.” Dean sighed, eyes glancing through the side window before flicking on his turn signal and pulling Baby into the parking lot of the motel. “She’s not bothering you, is she?”

“No! No of course not.” You shook your head before lowering your knees and tossing the bag onto the seat. “I was just surprised that neither of them wanted to join us.”

“She said they found a case, so-“ Dean shrugged again as he turned off the car once in a parking spot. “You wanna go get the key or do you wanna unload the bags.”

Propping your sunglasses up on your head, you swung open the passenger door. “I’ll unload.”

And just like that Dean was leaving you at the trunk of the impala as he went to go retrieve the key to your motel room. When he came back you were leaning against the hood, all four duffels slung over your shoulders.

“Room 14.” He held up the silver key as he stepped down in front of you. “You need help?”

“Nuh uh.”

“Fine. Suit yourself.”

Pushing yourself off the mat black hood you followed Dean down the row of bright yellow doors, the numbers on each having rusted from weather and age.You liked going on hunts with just Dean. Sam wasn't there to complain about your taste in music or hog shotgun. Plus, it was much more fun to hang out with your best friend when its just the two of you.

You maybe got halfway towards the door before you stopped and let out a huff as you attempted to re-adjust the straps, Dena stopping when he realized you weren’t next to him.

“Seriously?”

“Shut the fuck up.”

The hunter grinned before backpedaling and taking two of the bags. “You know you could just ask for help, right?” He mused, the two of you continuing your walk once situated.

“Yeah, but I don’t like doing that.”

“Oh I know, little miss I’ll stitch up my stab wound by myself.”

“Would you rather have had me bleed out on the bunker floor as I waited for you to get home?”

“. . . Well.” Dean paused as he set his bags on the ground to unlock the door, acting as if he was contemplating it. “If you had done that at least I would be rid of you.”

“Oh yeah, I’d definitely like to see you survive this world without me.” You quipped, stepping into the room as he swung open the door for you.

“I’d be thriving.”

“I’m sure you would.”

Dean flicked on the lights behind you before shutting the door. The familiar sight of old wallpaper and even older flooring meeting your eyes. It wasn’t until your bags had been piled onto the linoleum flooring once more that both of you saw the one slight issue it had.

 “Classic.” You sighed, nodding you head. “Just classic.”

SPN Taglist: (Still Open)

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[mosaicofdreamsanddragons]

First Lesson

Pigsy teaches his kids to cook.

ao3 here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27769003

It was a well-known fact that Pigsy was at war. Every day he struggled to guide his troops toward excellence. Every day he worked tirelessly to build up the stockpile necessary for a campaign into enemy territory. And every day he poured his heart and soul into the techniques that would carry his crew to victory.

Oh and there was the whole saving the city thing, but that was really his second priority. He liked to think of that life as existing in a separate spears of his mind. He only had so much brain power he could devote to Monkey nonsense. When he was at war, such things were far from his mind and when he was a superhero, war was the last thing he thought of.

Until the day it wasn’t.

It had been an ordinary day: fight whatever demon or demon bull king minions who wanted a piece of his kid and then get back to his real life of noodles and plotting campaigns.

But today, today he’d slipped up. Today he’d almost been squashed by the remains of some demon bull minions and had barely been pulled out of the way by Tang. The attack wouldn’t have even come close to killing him but it could have done much worse.

He’d kept his fretting to himself of course. No point in scaring the kids, they were freaked out enough by the near hit. If a few smiles and gruff reassurances were all they needed to bounce the close call off their shoulders as only the young can, he would provide them.

Tang was no so easily fooled. “Something is bothering you,” he said, glare on his glasses preventing any eye contact. It was not a question.

“I…When we were on the mission…” he began and then stopped.

“I saved you,” said Tang firmly.

“Yes but you almost didn’t save me,” said Pigsy. Tang’s hands clutching the noodle bowl turned white and Pigsy quickly amended his statement. “Not that it would have killed me, calm down.” He waited until Tang let go of the bowl placing it on the table before continuing. “If you hadn’t, I would have broken my arm. And that would mean disaster for my business. I couldn’t cook, so MK would have no food to deliver. And soon we’d lose customers and who knows how many regulars would come back when I healed, what with the enemy always upping his game…we’d starve. And I can’t do that to MK, he’s starved enough in his life.”

“You wouldn’t starve,” said Tang with a hint of anger. “Even if the worst happened, you’d still have me to help and Sandy. Heck even Mei would chip in.” He took a deep breath and grabbed his bowl back. “And you’re missing the most obvious solution. If you broke you’re arm, you could run deliveries…” Pigsy raised an eyebrow at Tang. He snorted “….I’ve seen you drive one handed, don’t give me that look…” Pigsy raised his eyebrow even higher and Tang made a huff into his leftover broth “…fine. I could run deliveries. Then all you’d need to do is teach MK how to cook for you. You’d be able to be back in business in a day!”

“Teach MK how to cook?” said Pigsy. “Not in a day I wouldn’t. Cooking takes art and art takes time.”

“So start now,” said Tang. “Give him the time he’ll need to learn and grow. You could bring in Mei too, make a day of it.”

Pigsy looked down at his hands. “I’m not….the best instructor. Last time I tried to teach…well….Sandy and I ended that with a mutual agreement to never be in a kitchen together again.” He closed his eyes against sudden memoires of a time before Sandy had started therapy.

“Well that was a long time ago,” said Tang. “I’m sure you’ll be a great teacher now.” Before Pigsy could retort that Tang hadn’t been there and didn’t really know the extent of the disaster he caught a glance at Tang’s face.

He was gazing out the shop to where the two children had left. “And I don’t think they’d mind having a normal type of legacy,” he said barely above a whisper, “one without any magic or monkeys or dragons. Something they can learn an fail and the world won’t fall apart,” Pigsy opened his mouth to protest that was Tang not taking the noodle war seriously enough when Tang said, “…like their dad’s secret noodle recipe.”

Pigsy opened his mouth. And shut his mouth. And turned back to the table. “Okay,” he said quietly. “Lessons begin tomorrow.”

Pigsy had seen many things in his life. He’d befriended Sandy before he gave up his fighting ways. He regularly aided his children with saving the city. He’d had to create a noodle business from the ground up and used it to wage war against all who would stand in his way. But never had he been faced with such a challenge as this.

Before him, in the heart of his kitchen, stood only the freshest of recruits, neither who had ever so much as held the weapons of this war in their hands. Beyond them watching expectantly with notepad in hand was his acting secretary, who was far more interested in the potential noodles then jotting the recipe down. Farther back was the emotional support, who was not allowed near this kitchen for reasons both knew and would not discuss. Together they would create a mock battle, with Tang and Sandy as the customers and Mei, MK, and Pigsy as the chefs.

“Okay,” he said to the eager faces of his children. “Today you will be taking your first steps onto a harrowing battlefield.” He paced back and forth moving his spoon and feet with the beat of his words. “Today, you will face trails like you have never faced. It will be the most difficult thing you have ever attempted to do, magical Monkey business included.” He turned to meet the eyes of Mk and Mei. “But I have complete faith, that under my guidance you will pull yourselves from the muck and mire of mediocracy and into success.”

“Pigsy its just noodles,” said MK hands behind his head. Mei shoved her hand in her mouth to stifle a giggle.

“Just noodles!” said Pigsy throwing his spoon in the air and advancing on the boy. “Just noodles! Those noodles are the backbone of our livelihoods! The result of countless years honing my technique to perfection!” he caught Tang’s eyes and took a deep breath. Then in a gentler voice he continued, “And today I will be passing that legacy onto you. Now no one is expecting you to get it on your first try.”

“I make noodles all the time at home! How bad can it be?” said MK.

“You make instant noodles,” said Pigsy stepping back and rubbing his temples. “That’s completely different. No technique, no finesse. This, this will push you to your limits.” He waves towards the assorted vegetables and meat. “Mei, you will be on toppings,” he gestured to a large pot, “and MK you will be on broth. Now I will need both of you to listen to what I say and only do what I tell you. Do you understand?”

The nod in unison. He takes a deep breath and hands the kids the knives. He can do this.

The next hour passes quickly. But for him it goes swiftly jumping between:

“No Mei do not hold your knife like your sword. Watch me, like this.”

“Don’t touch that pan, you aren’t invincible anymore you’ll burn yourself.”

“You need to sauté the vegetables first. No those aren’t ready, you haven’t turned the stove on so they aren’t cooking…”

“Don’t poor boiling oil down the sink! &*@#$ Get on the counter NOW!!!” Both children climbed onto the counter in confusion and even Sandy and Tang pulled their feet up. “The pipe melted,” he told the confused kids. “We stay up here, until I get the boiling oil of the floor.”

“It’s like the floor is lava!” said Mei.

“Don’t try anything crazy!” said Pigsy. “I’m just gonna head over to the broom closet…” he began carefully picking his way across the counter, careful not to step near any of the food or utensils. It was harder then it looked, as the counter was covered with the mess only three chefs could bring. He picked his way across only to discover what he’d thought to be a solid footing turn out to be pan which slipped out from under his foot and sent him toppling down, down…

Something hard and round stopped his fall before he could make contact with the oil slicked floors. “I’ve got you Pigsy!” he heard his kid yell as he slowly became aware of the enormous iron staff now wedged from one side of his kitchen to another, and preventing him from a landing with third degree burns.

He took a deep breath and pulled himself across the makeshift bridge to the counter where Tang, Sandy, and MK were all waiting. And even though he was fairly certain he had got the hang of it by the time he reached them, Sandy still reached out and lifted him onto the counter.

“Real battle we got here,” said Sandy. “But I think the troops are getting the hang of it.” He nodded and Pigsy looked up to see MK carefully maneuvering the staff-bridge to bring Mei towards the broom cupboard.

“They’re ingenuous,” said Pigsy. “That’ll help them with creating new things down the line. Once they master the basics…” he glanced around his kitchen, now covered in oil, with food scattered everywhere and possibly contaminated by the people climbing around it waving their newly discovered brooms and mops and bit back a groan. This was not how this lesson was supposed to go.

Sandy rose to retrieve the one of the mops from Mei but before he left he turned to Pigsy, “No one learns any skill in a day. Give ‘em time. They’ll get it. They have an excellent teacher.”

Pigsy closed his eyes as Tang dropped down beside him. “Sandy’s right, no one learns a skill in a day, not cooking, not teaching.” Pigsy opened one eye to glance at Tang. He grinned smugly at him. “But a little disaster never stopped your campaigns before, eh Marshal? And whatever the result of this campaign, I’ll eat it.”

“You better,” he mock-growled at Tang’s smirk.

Between Sandy, MK, and Pigsy they managed to get the no-longer-boiling oil off the floor. Mei helped as much as she could but all she could really bring was her enthusiasm since she’d never seen a broom in her life and really didn’t know how to clean (and Pigsy made a mental note to teach her later). Sandy even fixed the melted pipes. With the kitchen newly sparkling and all that could be salvaged out and ready, Pigsy got up and fetched the noodles.

“Okay kids,” he said. “Mei, I want you to get the toppings ready to go. MK hold this in the boiling water for three minutes, do not touch the pot again. When the three minutes are up, pull it out and pour the noodles in it in the bowl. Mei, I want you to add the toppings on top once MK’s added the noodles and then poor in the broth. Take your time both of you, you’ll have time to add speed to this later.”

Face squished in concentration, MK slowly lifted up the noodles and placed them in the bowl. Then Mei added the toppings and very slowly and carefully poured in the broth. Now finished their faces broke into relieved grins and they both reached for the bowl, only for Pigsy to yell “Order up!” and place the bowl in front of Tang.

Pigsy turned back to the disappointed faces and handed MK another batch of noodles, nodding back to the broth and stack of toppings. “The point of cooking is to make it for others, not yourself. And besides, we’re not done here until we’re out of ingredients.”

The broth lasted them two more bowls, one which Pigsy handed to Sandy. The two children were left staring at the single bowl. They seemed to be having a silent conversation before turning and pushing it towards Pigsy. And Pigsy found two pairs of wide eyes turned up to him expectantly. He steeled himself and reached up to bring the noodles to his mouth.

It was…not bad. Not to his standards and not ready for sale yet. But it was made with his kids sweat and tears and he loved every bite. “Delicious,” he said, “We’ll make chefs of you yet.”

Sandy applauded. “Much better review then the first time I ever tried to help him! Have we told you that story? It started many years ago and ended with an explosion…”

With the kids happily listening to Sandy regale them with their first cooking disaster, Tang happily listening nearby sipping his soup and stealing some of Sandy’s noodles, Pigsy sat back and drunk the site in. This was something he wanted to savor, a memory he could call up after scares like yesterday or on bad nights.

His kids’ first bowl of noodles, one more step towards growing up. A milestone greater than any of the saving the city they did. He was so proud.

[willadisastercry]

tw: voltron and anxiety

my brain has just accepted it as fact that Lance was most likely head hostage negotiator for his friends’ sanity while in space and let me tell you why

first order of business: i must establish that Lance is cannocially a goofball. this is factual and cannon. he is confident and charming and assertive and always the first to make a stupid joke just to put everyone at ease or piss them off because he loves them and that’s his thing. he wants to annoy the shit out of them and make them laugh not only because they need it but because he does too.

while i’ve seen a lot of posts suggesting Lance could have ADHD (and while i pretty much agree in that deduction and what i suggest in this post goes hand in hand with this disorder in particular, it requires a more thorough explanation that i as someone with adhd feel like they can provide a solid reasoning behind this theory) i think it can more simply be put as a headcannon that he has general anxiety or a generalized anxiety disorder that manifests in his self worth/esteem making him require more validation, affection, assurance despite his own portrayal of confidence and security (of which is a coping mechanism meshed with pre-existing personality traits). this is done through humor and affection for others, i. e. why he’s the “class clown” of which is a common example used for this type of behavior.

i recognize that voltron is a team of TEENAGERS at war in and entirely new enviornment with none of their usual comforts who have lots of hormones and logical fears that they have to navigate all while tasked with an immense responsibility. that’s stressful in and of itself. but this leads my brain to come to the obvious conclusion that any time a member of voltron exhibited anxiety, so like showed symptoms that they were about to have a panic attack, were stuck in a pattern of irrational thinking, showed harmful coping behaviors related to irrational fear, etc. Lance would sus it out and be at their side immediately to talk them down. no funny business. no jokes until he was sure they were feeling better. his cockiness would disappear and instead he’d be calm, he was always so composed, so comforting. he wouldn’t leave their side until it passed. he’d check on them throughout the day to make sure they hadn’t gotten worked up again. he’d even probably recognized their individual triggers and symptoms and became the only one who could effectively talk them down. every single one. it didn’t matter if they were in the middle of a mission. if something happened to trigger them he would drop whatever he was doing to go to their aid. he had been dealing with this his whole life, and they had just been introduced to such an intense dose of it and were expected to perform. in a hostile environment! and Lance being the softhearted goof he is definitely wouldn’t forgive himself if they got hurt or hurt themselves when he could’ve helped.

and so... Lance has assigned himself an enormous task because he’s Lance. everyone has sort of caught on to this and just accept Lance as being so strangely in tune with their well-being in this regard, all of them having varying degrees of understanding why, the general picture being it likely runs in his family and he is well aversed in both experiencing it and mollifying it. so when ever Shiro is hit by a flash back or has gone catatonic in a more intense episode of his cannon PTSD, it’s Lance and Keith at his side making sure he’s safe from hurting himself, they protect him from getting hurt if it happens in the middle of a mission, and from possibly hurting the people around him. Lance is a light sleeper and is often woken up by light cries and whimpers of his friends having nightmares, depending on which direction they come from warrants his level of concern (he goes by where their room is and the pitch of their cries, because they all get nightmares every now and again, they’re at ~war~ and it’s traumatizing, but some of his friends have worse reactions and tendencies in that state) and sometimes if they never quiet he’ll wait up to make sure they fall asleep okay and that no one hurts themselves in their delirium. and similarly, when Keith is rocked by a string of sleepless, nightmare ridden nights or occasional bouts of insomnia (neither officially established as cannon) and turns up to breakfast sleep deprived and sluggish Lance keeps an eye on him, takes it easy on him with his chiding, watches to see that he doesn’t over exert himself and end up snapping at someone and then crumbling from an exhaustion induced anxiety attack, especially when they’re out on a mission where the stakes are higher to maintain your composure. Lance is there when Hunk who is the most expressively anxious of the bunch is feeling particularly skiddish about a circumstance or on a dangerous mission or in anticipation of one of their teammates stumbling out of their cryopod in tact. he is especially good at knowing what’ll trigger his best friend and can usually manage some reassuring words before he goes full fight or flight and loses his lunch. but what’s most impressive is when he gets through to Pidge. she is a perfectionist, she needs constant intellectual stimulation to calm her nerves but the long hours she spends straining her eyes and her brain is also what makes her inclined to breakdown after a tough mission or during a difficult training session or from aparticularly tactless joke from one of the boys about her height and the like, but especially from frustration about not being able to solve a problem. but when Pidge breaks down it’s like next level bad, her usual practicality and composure utterly abandoned since when she’s lost her logical exterior it’s after a long time of surpressing her emotions, so if she has started crying she usually can’t get herself to stop, on several occasions hyperventilating and passing out. Lance seems to be the only one whose reassuring words she can prescribe to. he does breathing excercises with her to regain a normal breathing pattern and let’s her fall asleep on his chest so she can feel the rise and fall and emulate it. There’s fully now a whumpy fic that i wrote about this dynamic... here.

and the entire team is there to support Lance when he has an episode of his own anxiety. though he is really good at rationalizing his intrusive thoughts when he’s overwhelmed or panicked, it’s all of his good vibes only bs that helps him neutralize most of his anxiety before it builds. but when it does build up it usually manifests in him breaking down over the thought that he might never see his family again, it’s constricting, it’s the only thing he can’t rationalize. his team is very aware of this and try to comfort him before he spirals and usually catch it. Pidge even tries to do his own breathing techniques with him sometimes. and Hunk is especially good at calming him after a nightmare that he wakes up screaming from, usually about his family member dying or him dying before he gets to say goodbye, but Hunk is there whispering mantras in spanish to him until he calms down enough to go back to sleep.

so basically Lance is voltron’s emotional support animal and no one can convince me otherwise.

i digress.

[plethora-of-imagines]

Can’t run away

AN: Look at me posting a second fic this week! It’s another thing inspired by an old anon to @queerconfusionthings 

Word Count: 2137

Warnings: suggestive/citrus

Description: The Master doesn’t like how you were looking at the Doctor.

Tag List: @c-s-stars

Some of the most interesting schemes you got to be involved with when traveling with the Master were the ones where the Doctor showed up to stop the two of you. The Master on his own was a force of chaos, he fed off of the panic he could cause. Full of almost boundless energy, barely ever staying still. That energy got even stronger when the Doctor was there. She brought with her an even more intense energy. One that you could practically feel in the air. Things got bigger and better when the Doctor was there to taunt.

She served as an audience that would fully understand what was going on without the need for explanation. Instantly horrified by your actions. Always challenging the two of you to keep things on track or adapt as she worked to stop the Master.

As such you were normally excited when the Doctor showed up. It meant fun, and energy, and a challenge. But not this time. Not when the Master had just finished setting up. He hadn't even had time to explain the plan to you! How were you supposed to help the Master if you had no idea what was happening?

Ah, right. You could always just listen to the Doctor's ramblings. She was currently explaining to her companions what was going on. Honestly, you needed this briefing more than they did. Not that they were really paying attention. She kept looking towards you as she realized that you were the only one being fully attentive. Well, that wasn’t fair to her companions- they were trying to understand. They just looked completely lost anyway, asking each other questions to try and catch up. It could be hard to pay attention when something was beyond your understanding.  You had to wonder why she didn’t travel with people who were trained scientists...

You personally were captivated by every word, every gesture. The Master had outdone himself, the plan was brilliant. You couldn’t stop the awe that shone in your eyes. You couldn’t wait to help the Master put the Doctor in her place. An eager smile filled your face. She hadn’t even realized the part of the plan that was going to trap her! Too focused on her explanation of the operation as a whole.

You were so focused on the Doctor's oblivious explanation that you didn't notice the Master moving. That is until your whole world abruptly shifted. You let out a squeak as your view of the Doctor shifted into a view of the Master’s back.  Wide-eyed you threw your head up so that you didn’t hit it against him. You were bewildered. Why had he just thrown you over his shoulder?

Looking to the Doctor for her reaction to his actions you could see her pursed lips. Okay. She was just as confused by his actions as you were. Nothing from her explanation gave a reason for the Master to take you away from the action. You gave her a small shrug, well as close to one as you could give while thrown over the Master’s shoulder like this. Who knows what the Master was trying to accomplish by separating you from the Doctor. You would ask once away from her and her curiosity, just in case it was part of the Master’s plan that she hadn't realized.

The Master kept his fast pace away from the Doctor and her "fam" until you were in his TARDIS. He didn’t really slow down once in the TARDIS, but it did feel like he was moving less urgently. Less concerned with getting as far away as possible from them. You were carried all the way to a bedroom before he let you down. You waited until he had placed you onto the bed and you could look into his eyes to question his dramatic actions.

“So... why did you carry me back here?”

“You’re staying here.”

“No, I’m not! At least not without a reason!”

You didn't want to miss a moment of the action. 

“I don’t like how you were looking at the Doctor. You! Are! Mine!” he fiercely enunciated each word.

He looked truly upset over this. Your eyes softened as you looked at him. That wouldn't do. You moved to cup his face, to ground him away from his worries. He tilted his head further into your hand. You could feel his stubble poking into your skin. He was so touch-starved; always moving into your touch, chasing your affection. You were determined to provide him with enough affection that over time he would lose his touch-starved desperation. Not that you would ever get tired of his clear desire for your touch. 

“I wouldn’t leave you for her, ever,” you reassured him.

His one hand came up to hold yours in place against his face. Rubbing his thumb back and forth on the back of your hand.

“You didn’t see the way she was looking at you, she might not give you a choice."

"Well, then I'd fight my way back to you."

The Master awkwardly intertwined his fingers with yours while your hand was still against his face. As he pulled your hand away his fingers dug into your palm. You bent your fingers, covering his with your own to strengthen the strange connection.

"I refuse to give her the opportunity to take you from me," he growled.

His growl always served to turn you on- which at times was very inconvenient. This time however you there was no one around to make you self conscious. You were already in bed too. It was a convenient time to let your body respond to his growly voice. In one fluid movement, he took your intertwined hands and he cuffed you to the bed.

“Do you just keep handcuffs attached to the posters of this bed?”

Amusement colored your voice. Looks like something would be done about your arousal. Nice.

“Yes, I find it can be very convenient.” 

You didn't struggle against him. In fact, you made sure to move your body to where he needed it to be in order for him to cuff you spread eagle on the bed. While you knew you were his beyond any doubt, the Master seemed to need reassurance. If this is how he wanted to reassure himself that you were willingly his you would gladly submit. 

As he cuffed your other arm his hand trailed along your pulse point. Nails gently scratching across your skin. Goosebumps rose on your arms with his sensual attention.

Once your arms were both secure he moved onto your legs. He took your shoes and socks off with care. Dropping them to the floor once they were off your feet. Both of you hated having shoes on when in bed, it caused such a mess at times.

You struggled not to kick him as he dragged his nails down the soles of your feet. It tickled. He gave a small chuckle at how tense you were in your efforts not to kick him in the face. The gentle click of the cuffs as he finished securing you did something wonderful to you. You had no idea what to refer to it as but it was a nice feeling that filled your whole body. All of your nerves coming alive in anticipation.

"Nothing too tight? Too loose?"

You pulled at the cuffs one at a time to test that they were comfortable. His eyes followed the movement of each one intently.

"Secure and comfortable enough," was your response to his questions.

You always loved it when he was possessive. He made sure that you were a puddle underneath him when he was done with you. Being cuffed spread eagle on the bed beneath him was really adding to your growing arousal. 

“Comfortable enough? You might be here for a few hours love. Will you be comfortable for that long?”

Oh. Oh! That was a very nice thought. A shame to abandon his plan, it was a really good one this time. But spending a few hours beneath him was definitely worth the loss to you.

“Yes, I’ll be comfortable for that long Master,” your voice was longing as you drew out his name.

"Good. I'll be back once I'm done dealing with the Doctor. I'll let you go once she is far enough away that there is no chance of her taking you from me."

“Wait. What?”

Your protests were ignored by the Master. He left immediately after telling you his intentions. Great! You had thought that he was going to be possessive and have sex with you to remind himself that you were his. Not leave you alone while he completed his latest plan. You should have realized that nothing was going to happen. You were still fully clothed! Curse your horny mind for not realizing that important fact. It would have been a bit hard to have sex when your clothes couldn't be taken off. So the handcuffs were not for sex this time. Instead, the handcuffs were to keep you from -literally- running away.

It was not fair. The Master gets you turned on and then leaves. With no intention of doing anything when he gets back.  You pouted but stopped when you realized that it was pointless. He wasn’t here to pout at! What were you supposed to do for the literal hours you were going to be stuck here? Handcuffed to a bed with nothing to entertain yourself with. He could have at least given you something to do. 

You stared up at the ceiling. It was blank, solid white. Well, guess you weren't going to count panels or make patterns to keep yourself busy. Looking around as best as you could nothing in the room caught your attention. So you returned your attention to blankly staring at the ceiling. Not like there was anything else to do. Besides, at least staring at the ceiling wouldn't hurt your neck.

You must have eventually fallen asleep. The next thing you knew you were startling awake when the Master opened the door. He shuffled over to the bed, looking down at you with a tired expression.

“Oof,” all of your breath left you as he flopped down on top of you.

His whole body relaxed into yours. His head pressing against your chest to hear your heartbeat. You would have moved to hold him, if you could move your arms that is.

"I take it that it didn't go as planned?"

"No. Also wasn't as much fun without you there," he seemed to be hesitant to add something. 

You couldn't move to reassure him but you tried to project a feeling of comfort. He was safe with you. You wouldn't judge him when he was uncertain and vulnerable like this. No matter how strange the request. Okay, that wasn’t entirely true. If it was truly bizarre request you would probably question it in your head. But you wouldn’t hurt him by questioning him out loud.

"Would you run your hand through my hair?" He asked in a quiet, vulnerable voice. 

If the room hadn't been completely silent you didn't think you would have heard him ask.

"Of course. You just need to uncuff my hands so I can reach."

"Oh right."

"Did you forget you tied me spread eagle to the bed!" 

He didn't bother answering that. Making quick work of freeing your hands. You took a moment to rotate your wrists once freed. You almost couldn't believe he forgot that he had cuffed you to the bed.

Your hand hesitated just above his hair. You had to ask," Aren't you going to free my legs as well?"

"No."

His voice was firm, nothing would change his mind anytime soon on this.

"No?" You asked incredulously.

 At the very least he could give you an explanation for his refusal.

"You can't run away if you can't move your legs."

His grip on you tightened. As if he was afraid that even with your legs cuffed to the bed you would find a way to flee.

You sighed and started to run your hand through his hair. It was soft, you wish he would tell you what he used in it. All of your attempts to find out in the past had failed.

"I'm not going to run away," you reassured him. "You'll have to untie me eventually, but if it makes you feel better I won't complain right now."

He nuzzled into you, as if he needed to touch as much of you as he could to be sure you didn't disappear. You simply keep up your attention to threading your hand through his hair. After a few minutes he spoke again in that quiet voice that you almost couldn't hear.

"Thanks."

[honeymoonjin]

A/N: part of the Roll Deep series. Banner created by @jeonau, go show her some love xx In a desperate bid to cure your troubles in the bedroom, you and your boyfriend Jimin reach out to a famous dom on twitter that specialises in helping couples spice up their boring sex lives, Jay94. Warnings for sexually explicit content: threesome, exhibitionism/voyeurism, pet names, sub!Jimin, sub!reader, dom!Hoseok, being filmed w consent, double penetration, protected sex, unprotected sex (only one of them wears a condom), fingering, maybe a hint of cuckholding.  Word count: 5.9k

--

“You have the forms?” Jimin hands them to the young man enthusiastically. “Alright, age verification, STI tests, hard limits… This all seems in order. Give me a sec to go over these and I’ll be right back.”

The moment he leaves the hotel suite to sneak into the adjoined bathroom, Jimin jumps on you with all the eagerness of an overexcited puppy. “This is it, jagiya! It’s finally happening, can you believe it?”

You bite your lip, trying to steady your racing heart. “Not really… Jimin, when you suggested a threesome, this really wasn’t what I was expecting.” The truth was, you weren’t all that surprised when Jimin had come to you one night and proposed inviting another person in to bed with you. The two of you had always been complete matches for each other since the moment you met, but it seemed that chemistry had never really extended into the bedroom. The two of you barely bothered with sex anymore since it was just never good for either of you, and you had felt that frustrated tension rising in both of you for the past few months. “Honestly, I thought you were gonna ask if one of your friends could join in, not some random guy off the internet.”

Jimin’s eyes widen in protest. “It’s not some random guy, it’s Jay94! He’s one of the most popular nsfw profiles on twitter. Trust me, this is way better than any of my friends. He’s an expert. A sexpert.”

As nervous as you are, you can’t help the reluctant smile that breaks across your face. “You’re such an idiot.”

“You love me.”

You shake your head at his cheeky grin with a laugh. “If this goes downhill, it’s your-”

“Alrighty!” You jump a little when the door to the bathroom opens again and the man steps back in with an easygoing beam on his face. “Let’s get this show on the road, shall we?” You pout as Jimin pushes you over a little to leave room beside him for the man to sit down, the three of you lined up on the edge of the firm mattress. “First of all, just so you both feel a little more comfortable, my name isn’t Jay, it’s Hoseok, but please try to avoid calling my real name out in bed. If you do slip up, I can censor it out, but it disrupts the audio, so either use Jay or a title like sir or daddy.”

Before you can hold it back, you let out a snort at the way he’s speaking so casually about things. Jimin widens his eyes and whacks you, but Hoseok just shrugs, unbothered.

“I know it sounds weird now, but a huge part of what I do is to make sure all my companions are 100% comfortable and aware before we start filming. This isn’t a sex dungeon; you can laugh and joke around and ask questions as much as you want.”

You shift slightly on the bed. “Well, then… Jimin’s seen like all of your videos, bought some full ones and everything, he’s a big fan-”

“Y/n!”

“-but I don’t really know so much what’s going on. What do you, uh, normally do?”

Once Jimin collapses back onto the bed, covering his cheeks as they burn bright red, you can see past him to Hoseok, who gives you a reassuring smile. “Well, I don’t know how much your boyfriend has told you, but I specialize in providing help to those that have difficulties in performing sexually. Think of it like hands-on training, in the literal sense. I normally work with subs-”

“Subtitles?” you question curiously.

His eyebrows lift in bewilderment. “Submissives. Wow, he really hasn’t told you a thing, has he?”

Your eyes slide to Jimin as he sits up, leaning back on his elbows so that you can still see Hoseok. “To be fair,” Jimin protests petulantly, “I did tell her she could check out your profile at any time. She just chose not to.”

You’re ready to defend yourself, but instead of looking offended, Hoseok just grins even wider, eyes running down your body and back up again. Your cheeks heat up as he chuckles. “Well, then, she’ll be extra fun to play with.” The lust in his eyes vanishes as he snaps back into professional mode, and the duality has you feeling a little whiplashed. “Most of the time the people I film with are fans like young Jimin here, so they already have some awareness and preconceived expectations. Which on the whole is a positive thing, but I’m definitely going to enjoy the chance to introduce someone completely new into it.”

“See, jagiya,” Jimin interjects, “I told you this would be fine! All we need is a push in the right direction and our sex life will be fantastic after this!”

Hoseok laughs at your boyfriend’s eagerness, and the sound is carefree and high-toned. As irrational as it may be, you’re already finding yourself comfortable in his presence, even in this very odd context. “Alright, Jimin, let’s start with you first since you know what you’re doing. What do you believe your strengths are in bed?” Automatically, Jimin’s face turns to you for confirmation, and Hoseok tuts. “I’ll ask her to leave the room if I have to, Jimin. This is your question to answer. No rights and wrongs, just learning curves.”

You fight the urge to smile fondly at the rosy flush on Jimin’s cheeks as he looks down at the mattress, gone shy. “Um… I guess I’m good at trying new things? Uh, I’m a good kisser. I don’t know. I don’t think I have any strengths, really. I have the motivation and want to be better, but I just don’t know what to do.”

Instead of passing any comment, Hoseok simply nods solemnly and turns to you. “Do you have anything to add about his strengths, Y/n?”

You try and ignore the way him saying your name makes you warm up inside. “I agree with Jimin, he’s an amazing kisser. And he has a fantastic ass, the best I’ve ever seen.”

“That’s just because you haven’t watched 128B. His ass was better than mine.”

You crinkle your brow in confusion, but Hoseok apparently understands Jimin’s statement. “Ah, 128B was a fun time. He was a sports coach, though, not so good with taking instructions and listening to me.” His voice lowers to a honeyed drawl. “You’ll behave well for me, won’t you, Jimin?”

Jimin’s face goes blank and his eyes glaze over. He nods.

Satisfied, Hoseok lights up again and shifts out of that persona. “Anyways, that’s that, let’s move on. Y/n, your strengths.”

You swallow hard when the attention shifts back to you. “I can take risks; I can follow instructions. I’m eager to please. I think… I think I’m good at giving handjobs and blowjobs.” Jimin nods vigorously with a cheery beam. “Okay, yeah. I think that’s it.”

“Alrighty then,” Hoseok nods, “we won’t waste time with those, then.” Jimin’s face falls. “Jimin, what are Y/n’s strengths in bed?”

He pouts, slumping on the bed. “Handjobs and blowjobs,” he mumbles pettily.

Hoseok laughs heartily, clapping him on the shoulder. “You two can do as much of that at home as you wish, but this here is for working on everything but your strengths. Now, I think I might see our problem here. The two of you both seem to be naturally submissive, which might make things awkward in bed, as neither of you will automatically jump into a position of leadership. We’ll work on that.”

Spiel done, Hoseok stands up and starts checking out the cameras, stationed strategically around the room. Your heart begins to race. God, this was really happening. “Do we-” you cough a little to break the nervous lilt to your voice, “do we wear masks? I don’t want to be recognized…”

Without looking up, Hoseok quirks his head in the direction of the closet, in front of which is a large, splayed-open suitcase with a terrifying selection of sex toys, some you couldn’t even guess the use for. “Top zipper pocket has masks, you can choose. Cute ones, full-face ones, comfortable ones. Go wild.”

You make your way over on shaky legs. Pulling a general handful out, you hold them up to your boyfriend, who smiles cheerily and picks out a soft fuzzy pink one, a solid band with two slots for his eyes. You chuck it over to him, then choose a simple black one, not unlike a sleep mask, only with those same eye-holes cut out.

“Now, then,” Hoseok announces, now crouched on the floor, fiddling with a camera tripod, raising it higher, “the fun part. Kinks. Since the two of you don’t seem like overly experienced people, I think today can be about exploration and discovery.” When he straightens up, he goes over to the suitcase and opens a different pocket, putting out a mask rather similar to yours, but a glossy black latex rather than the cheaper fabric of yours. He puts it on and adjusts the straps as he continues talking. “Y/n, since you might not know, it’s important I tell you how important communication is. We’ll be doing new things, challenging you, pushing limits. I want you to go along with it as best you can, but the moment things get too much for you, or if something just isn’t arousing to you, please let me know. Similarly, be sure to tell me when something does feel good, or if you want more. Feel free to use the traffic light system. Green means go, yellow means slow down or pull back a little, and red will stop our proceedings immediately. This goes for you too, Jimin, of course. You both understand?” The two of you nod obediently, but Hoseok shakes his head. “Verbal consent. You both understand?”

“Yes,” you say, though it comes out husky like a whisper. Jimin speaks his agreement too.

“Alrighty, masks on, please. We’ll start rolling.”

In a hurry, you slip your mask over your head, adjusting your hair so that it doesn’t stick up, though you don’t imagine it’ll stay neat for long. Jimin follows suit, but takes it one step further by beginning to slip off his shoes and socks.

Hoseok turns back from switching on all of the cameras, and chuckles. “My my, someone’s eager. First things first, you know what you can call me, but I’m assuming you don’t want your real names being used.”

Your eyes widen. Fuck, you hadn’t even thought about that. “No, definitely not.”

“That’s okay, do either of you have a preference for a pet name?”

Jimin lightens up. “Oh, uh, I like being called baby boy. If that’s okay.”

Jimin had brought this up with the two of you before, and although you obliged, you always felt a little silly calling him that when you had automatically viewed him as the more dominant person in your relationship in general. Hoseok, however, clearly doesn’t have that prejudice, as he prowls over to Jimin, who still sits on the edge of the bed with his legs dangling over the edge and pushes himself between Jimin’s knees.

You’re taken aback, and more than a little turned on, by how predatory Hoseok looks right now, as he brushes Jimin’s hair back from his face and tips his head up. Jimin looks in heaven, letting his eyelids slide closed and his mouth part.

“Hm, is my baby boy gonna be good for me tonight?” Jimin exhales shakily and nods as much as he can in Hoseok’s grip. The elder smiles, and bends down to pull Jimin into a deep kiss. Your hips shift against the mattress at the erotic sight of another man claiming your boyfriend with lips, teeth and tongue. Even though it’s not happening to you, by the time Hoseok pulls away, breaking a strand of saliva with his tongue, you feel your heat thumping furiously in your chest. Jimin’s already-full lips are even more swollen and his eyes are lidded as he blinks in a daze. You want that for yourself.

Luckily, it looks like you’re going to get it, as Hoseok sets his sights on you and leaves Jimin’s side to stand in front of you. The black latex clings to his face, stopping just along his cheekbones, and it makes his eyes seem even more domineering. You swallow.

“No preference?” he asks. You shake your head wordlessly, but he just smiles and grabs your chin gently but firmly, turning your head up to face him. You feel your pulse throbbing in your neck, and you can barely breathe. You hadn’t felt this excited in the bedroom in a long time, and you hadn’t even gotten started yet. “Eyes on me,” he commands, “let’s let your body speak for itself, hm? Are you gonna be my baby girl? My princess? My whore? My kitten?” Without realizing, you suck in a breath through your nose, and a broad grin stretches across his face. “Interesting. I bet my little kitten wants a kiss like her boyfriend got, doesn’t she?”

You lick your dry lips. “Yes, please.”

“Good girl.” And then his lips are pressing against yours, and you feel like you’re being devoured whole, drunk on the sensation of his fingers tightening on your chin as his tongue explores every inch of your wet cavern. The nerves about being filmed go away under the drag of his teeth against your bottom lip, and you’re filled with a shameless need. You wanted this man to take every part of you, not just your mouth.

Too soon, he’s pulling away from you, letting you go. You sway slightly, feeling unanchored without his hands on you. You sneak a glance at Jimin, who’s biting hard on his lip, palming at the front of his jeans, where you can see he’s rock hard, straining against the stiff fabric. Jimin sees you staring and gives you a baleful look from under his eyelashes.

Hoseok, ever observant, notices this. “Do you want your clothes off, baby boy? Looks like you’re having a hard time.”

Jimin pouts and glances down, rubbing himself again. “Hurts,” he complains simply.

“Undress for me, then,” Hoseok commands. “Stand up in front of us and undress.”

Us? The moment Jimin hops up off the bed, Hoseok takes his place and sidles up behind you, tugging you back so that you rest on his chest, his legs on either side of you. You gasp at the way he moves your body for you, pulling it around as he pleases. His arms snake around under yours and rest on your thighs. Your ass is right against his crotch, and you can feel how hard he is.

Jimin pauses and stares in surprise. Standing awkwardly in front of you in his bare feet, he tugs at his shirt uncertainly.

Hoseok’s behind you, so you can’t see his expression, but it’s enough to make Jimin’s eyes go wide and glassy. His voice is stern. “Did I stutter? Undress. Slowly.”

You frown in concern, mouthing, ‘are you okay?’ to your boyfriend, but he nods lightly, grabbing the edges of his shirt and slowly slipping it over his head, revealing the unblemished skin beneath. His fingers slip down, passing over the little happy trail below his belly button to reach for his jeans.

Your breath catches when you feel fingers dancing around your throat, brushing your hair aside and tipping your head over slightly. Instead of his fingers, or his lips like you were expecting, the sensitive skin is greeted with a broad swipe of his tongue, and you let out an unbidden whimper, causing Jimin to freeze and Hoseok to chuckle throatily in your ear.

“Lesson one, anticipation and surprise. You know how you can’t tickle yourself because you know it’s coming? That’s the exact same for sex. Things feel better when you increase anticipation and change expectations. If I had just sat our kitten down and licked her, she probably would’ve cringed away and found it gross. But because I put her on edge, it felt good.” Hoseok’s teacher voice drops away to something darker. “Did I say to stop, baby boy?”

Jimin gasps and hurriedly unbuttons his jeans, before remembering to go slow, and gingerly slides them down his legs, hopping on one foot to get each pant leg off from around his ankles. Now only in his underwear, you can see that his straining erection has managed to slip out of the waistband of his underwear, the head peeking out the top of the elastic, smearing a pearly clear fluid on the solid plane of his lower stomach. You feel your mouth water at the sight.

“All the way,” Hoseok specifies, and Jimin takes a deep breath for slipping his underwear off, exposing himself fully to the two of you. “Now turn around and show me that ass my kitten loves so much.” Jimin blushes furiously, but turns around, crossing his arms over his chest for comfort. You and Hoseok both shamelessly drink in the sight. “Fuck, baby,” Hoseok groans, “she was right. That is the best ass I’ve ever seen. Come here, on the bed.”

Jimin’s cheeks are still pink when he turns back around and climbs on the bed, cock bobbing in the air, but his eyes are bright with the praise he received, and you can see that when he crawls further up the mattress, he sticks his ass out more than strictly necessary.

Hoseok taps your side, guiding you to move forward, so you assume it’s your turn to undress, but the moment your hands find the hem of your shirt, Hoseok stops you.

“Not yet,” he chastises, “I want you to undress me.”

You swallow hard as he gets off the bed, standing in front of you. You go for his shirt first, brushing the backs of your knuckles over his skin as you lift the black fabric off, tossing it in the same general pile that Jimin left his clothes in, before turning your attention to his jeans. You feel the weight of his stare on you as your hands hover shakily over his crotch, popping the button open. After unzipping them and sliding them off him, Hoseok kicking his shoes and socks away at the same time, the only item that remains is his underwear.

But just as you go to reach for them, you feel a hand on your shoulder. “Kitten,” Hoseok says in a low voice, “not with your hands.” The pressure on your shoulder increases, and you let yourself be pushed onto your knees.

Face to face with the sizeable tent in Hoseok’s briefs, you glance up at him one last time before getting closer, using your teeth to grab onto the elastic just on top of his hipbone, and dragging it down.

The whole affair takes longer than you were expecting, and you feel yourself go hot in the face with humiliation at the ungraceful act, wiggling your face side to side to try and pull it over the curve of his ass, switching sides as one would get stuck, but his hand stayed on your shoulder the whole time, and something deep inside of you was lighting up at the chance to do as he asked, thriving on that feeling of subservience.

Once you’re done, you sit back up on your knees, and reel back when his cock stands proudly to attention right in front of your face. He’s bigger than Jimin, although quite a bit less girthy, and although you never thought you’d say it, his dick is actually… pretty. A single vein runs up the side, and now that you’re seeing it head-on, you notice it curves slightly to the left, the head just beside his belly button instead of in line with it. You glance up at him with a question on your face.

He grins and runs his fingers through your hair, gathering it at the back. Your breath picks up in anticipation, but that’s shattered when instead of guiding you onto him, he’s tipping your head away. “What did I say? We’re not spending time on our strengths. Besides, you haven’t done anything to deserve this cock in your mouth. You haven’t even bothered undressing like the rest of us.” Your cheeks burn in indignation, but he just laughs at you, jiggling your head back and forth a little condescendingly before releasing his grip on your locks. “Come on, kitty-kitty, clothes off. No dilly-dallying this time, we haven’t got all day.”

He gets on the bed, not even watching you as he joins Jimin, who looks to be growing more impatient by the second. You stand up and pout as Hoseok throws a leg over Jimin’s lap and presses him down into the covers, reconnecting their mouths together to wetly make out with one another. Feeling forgotten, you rip your clothes off, eager to join in the action again, but once you hop up on the bed, fully naked, both men ignore you.

You sit back and cross your legs, awkwardly scratching at your arm, feeling horny and left out. You can hear the smack of lips, panted groans, and the guttural praises that fall from Hoseok’s lips, and here you are, untouched and unattended to. You awkwardly clear your throat, but the only reaction is Hoseok wrapping an arm around Jimin’s back and sitting them both up, leaving some room between them for his free hand to slip between and play at Jimin’s nipples, teasingly flicking and rubbing at the sensitive skin, swallowing up your boyfriend’s whines.

The noises are arousing, but you’re starting to get a little sick of it, of Hoseok drawing noises out of your boyfriend that you had never even heard before. “Jay,” you call, loudly enough that he can’t ignore you.

Hoseok grins against Jimin’s lips and doesn’t make any move to pull away as he replies, so that the sound is a little muffled. “Want some attention, kitten?”

You frown. “Yes.”

“Then take it.”

Cameras all but forgotten, and etiquette thrown aside, you huff and move up to them, pushing Hoseok away so that he falls back and bounces against the mattress. With one possessive move, you straddle Jimin and push him back down again, kissing him more deeply, more greedily than Hoseok did, reaching a hand up to bury in his hair and tug at the roots perhaps more harshly than you normally would have. Jimin reacts immediately, cock twitching under you as he keens.

“That’s it,” Hoseok praises with a voice thick with amusement, “that’s exactly what our baby boy needs. Someone to take control. Does it feel good, kitten? To take what’s yours?”

You pull back and sit up with a hand on Jimin’s chest, panting slightly. Your boyfriend looks up at you, blinking with wide eyes surrounded by fuzzy pink fabric, lips slick with spit. His pupils are totally blown out, and he licks his lips in wonder. “Yeah. It does.”

“Then that’s lesson two. It can feel good to take control once in a while, and power dynamics are fluid. You can be on your knees begging for cock one second, then making your baby boy writhe beneath you the next.”

You catch your breath and twist around to face him. He’s sitting up, one hand propping himself up, the other resting calmly on his inner thigh, though by the deep flush of his cock, you’re sure he’s just as desperate for friction as the two of you are. His mask is still perfectly in place, disguising the top half of his face, but the smug expression he wears is clear as day. “What’s lesson three then?”

He cocks an eyebrow. “Lesson three is testing limits.” His eyes dart down to where you’re still straddling Jimin’s thighs, spread out over him. “Do you think you could fit both of us at once?”

Reflexively, you shake your head quickly. “No way.”

Hoseok’s grin is catlike. “Should we try?”

You bite your lip, remembering the color system he had introduced. If it was too much, you could just call out yellow and he’d pull back. Hesitantly, you nod once. He tilts his head. Verbal consent. “Yes. I want to try.”

“That’s my good girl. Boyfriend gets first pick; baby boy, which hole do you want?”

Jimin, still flat on his back, pushes himself up to rest on his elbows. His eyes slide around the room: his cock, your pussy waiting just behind it, Hoseok’s cock, Hoseok’s face. He stays there, clearing his throat. “I, uh, maybe… maybe we could both go in her, you know…?”

You turn back around to Hoseok, who looks disappointed. Your heart sinks even as you feel yourself growing wetter at the thought. You hate him looking displeased. “That’s a great idea, baby boy, but how can you expect to fuck your girl right if you can’t even bring yourself to say the right words? Kitten, come here.”

You get off Jimin and crawl obediently over to Hoseok, who immediately grabs your hips and pulls you down against him, your back against his chest. With one hand pinning your arms and chest down, he slips his legs under yours, hooks your ankles with his, and then spreads them, pulling you with him so that you’re wide open and bare to Jimin, who pouts and pushes his hips against the mattress in search of friction.

“This, my dear baby boy, is a pussy.” With his free hand, Hoseok reaches down and slaps it lightly, making you jump in your grasp. His fingers slip over too, too wet to get any real friction, and you tip your head back over Hoseok’s shoulder when he buries two fingers deep inside you, holding them there. “I want you to repeat after me: I love my girlfriend’s pussy.”

Hoseok suddenly begins thrusting his fingers into you at a pace that has your toes curling. Instinctively, your thighs tense as they try to pull in around his hand, but his legs hold you open for him, and you’re helpless to do anything but take the brutal onslaught of pleasure he’s giving you.

Jimin sputters. “I- I love my girlfriend’s… pussy.”

“I want to fuck my girlfriend’s pussy.”

You whimper and shake on top of Hoseok as he pins you down and fucks you on his fingers. You hear Jimin swear under his breath. “I want to fuck my girlfriend’s pussy!”

“Good!” You gasp when Hoseok suddenly removes his fingers from you and pulls them up to his mouth, sucking on them like a lollipop, getting every last drop of you. You groan and go limp, feeling empty. “Then come fuck it.”

Normally, when you and Jimin had sex, he would painstakingly get you ready finger by finger, and when he finally took you, he would do it so slowly for fear of hurting you that you would reach a hand down to rub at your clit while he wasn’t looking, just to make sure you stayed wet. Now, however, he doesn’t waste time with any of that. Maybe it’s the safety net of those safewords, maybe it was Hoseok riling him up, maybe he was just too horny to think, but the moment he gets to you, using Hoseok’s thick thighs to keep himself steady, he lines himself up and pushes into you with one harsh thrust, snapping his hips with a grace you had only ever seen from him when he danced.

You cry out and clutch at the tops of his hands; the only things you can reach with Hoseok still locking your arms to your sides in his embrace. It’s a strange feeling, having one man holding you tight and another man fucking you, but your nerves are on fire with the feeling of being surrounded by them, every single one of your senses drunk on the two of them. That thick smell of sex, Hoseok’s proud chuckle in your ear, the way Jimin ground against your pubic bone with every thrust, hitting the underside of your clit and causing you to clench helplessly around him.

“Ji- fuck!” you cry, holding back from crying out his name like you desperately want to. Instead, you babble nonsense about how good it feels, eyes scrunched shut to fully drown in sensation.

“Stop,” Hoseok commands, but Jimin’s out of his mind, chasing that high, and he continues to pummel recklessly into you. “Stop or I won’t let you cum at all.”

Jimin growls, a guttural sound you’ve never heard from him before. “Fuck!” he complains, giving one desperate thrust before stilling inside you. You pant and go lax against Hoseok, feeling the wave of pleasure fade away.

“Don’t give me that attitude,” Hoseok scolds in a stern tone, “you were the one who wanted to share her pussy with me. Now, lie back and take my kitten with you.”

You whimper when Hoseok slips his legs and arm away from you, and you fall forward limply, crashing onto Jimin’s chest as he lies flat on his back. The move has him shifting inside you, and you grind your hips against him to feel something again, only to stop and jump when a firm hand lays a slap against your ass. Jimin groans as you clench automatically around him.

Out of seemingly nowhere, Hoseok produces a foil packet and rips it open, pumping himself a few times before slipping it on as he chastises you. “Wait your turn, kitten, don’t get greedy on me. You’ll have more than you can handle soon enough.”

You bite your lip and lower yourself fully onto Jimin’s chest so that you can arch your ass up to present to Hoseok. Although you had never even considered being taken by two men at once, you found yourself almost drooling at the thought of both of them inside you. “Please,” you beg pathetically.

Hoseok chuckles, and you feel his finger pressing into you, a tight fit around Jimin’s cock. “Patience,” he chastises, increasing to two fingers.

It’s torture, waiting for him to stretch you out enough. You know it’s necessary, but god, you just want him in you already. Finally, after he can comfortably scissor three fingers beside Jimin, he removes them and you feel the bed shift as he gets into place, cock brushing against your inner thigh.

He lines you up with one hand on his cock and the other splayed out on your ass, and begins to press in. The fit is snug, and you’ve never felt this split open before, but it has you open-mouthed, drooling on Jimin’s chest, unable to hold back the low moans that fall out of you with every inch.

“Color?” Hoseok checks in, and after you confirm it’s green, he rubs your ass comfortingly. “Having fun?”

“So good,” you groan, clutching at the sheets on either side of Jimin, feeling the muscles in your thighs tremble. “Fuck, so good.”

“How are you holding up, baby boy?”

Jimin has his eyebrows knitted and his eyes tightly shut. He nods stiffly. “Mhm. Good. Really good.”

Hoseok laughs breathily as he finally bottoms out. “Hm, I don’t think our baby boy is going to last very long. We better get a move on then.” And with that, he slides partly out and rocks back up into you. You cry out and pant against Jimin’s chest as Hoseok begins to fuck you, his front pressing against the curve of your ass with every thrust.

It’s too much. You can’t close your mouth or even think, but at the same time it’s not quite enough. You gargle in an attempt to make words, pushing a shaky hand down further to reach for your clit, hoping that one of them would get the message, and luckily your Jimin opens his eyes at the feeling of your hand pressed between you and reaches down to thumb at your clit.

You had told him once that many women couldn’t orgasm without clitoral stimulation and although he may have been inexperienced in other areas, he never forgot to provide that stimulation for you no matter what you were doing. You babble out a thank you, feeling your orgasm quickly approaching, more powerful and deep than it’s ever been before. “Close,” you manage to make out through moans.

Hoseok grunts in affirmation. “You gonna cum for us, kitten? Look, our baby boy is about to.”

You open your eyes blearily and glance up at Jimin, who’s started rubbing at your clit in a frenzy as he whines desperately, arching underneath you. You lower your head back down to suck at his nipple, dragging your teeth over, and he cums with a shout, spilling inside you.

You can feel cum running out of you as Hoseok continues to fuck you, and in the back of your pleasure-addled mind you wish he wasn’t wearing a condom so that he could fill you up too, and the thought of two men’s cum dripping out of your abused pussy propels you over the edge, and you begin to convulse under the overwhelming sensations hitting you like a strong wave.

Hoseok thrusts once, twice, three more times before he presses himself flush against you and groans, scratching your ass slightly as his fingers curl.

The three of you stay in a pile, all panting heavily, for about ten minutes. Your legs have gone numb yet strangely tingly, and they have no energy in them. Hoseok pulls out of you first, but extremely slowly, trying to let your pussy adjust to the empty space he leaves behind. When Hoseok lifts your hips up and Jimin falls out, you whimper at the strange sensation of your walls not closing in fully, still stretched wide open by the two cocks you had inside you.

As Hoseok quickly leaves to dispose of the used condom, you roll limply to the side, and Jimin’s hand finds yours, intertwining your fingers and holding on tightly. You turn your head to face him and smile dopily. “Thank you for talking me into this, baby.”

Even after the vigorous sex he had just had, Jimin’s eyes are bright and he beams warmly at you, squeezing your hand. “Thank you for saying yes. I can’t wait to take you home and fuck you again. Fuck that beautiful pussy of yours.”

Your cheeks flush, but you chuckle. “Oh, so now you’re a sexpert, huh? My beautiful pussy probably needs a day or two to recover, Jiminie.” Your face falls. “Oh fuck, the camer-”

“I’ve switched them off,” Hoseok assures you calmly as he walks back in the room. “You were both too fucked-out to notice. I hope you enjoyed yourselves.”

You let out a contented sigh. “God, yes. That was amazing. I wish I could do that again.”

Hoseok shrugs. “I’ve had plenty of people come back for a second-”

“Uh-uh,” Jimin protests, sidling up to you possessively. “I appreciate your help, Hoseok-hyung, but now that I know how to fuck her right, I can guarantee she’ll be too tired to come back again. She’s my kitten.”

[edwardslostalchemy]

I want to share some Shouto headcanons with y’all because I love that boy so much. They range from his high school days to his pro hero days so they’re all over the place. Also there are some with tododeku so there’s that. I’ve had discussions with @brightismarstonight and @alartes-draws over some of these, too. :)

His nerves can get damaged if he uses too much of his power. So he can have like fried nerves on his left side and frozen nerves on his right side. 

Because of this, he feels numbness at times. 

It’s gonna sound gross, but he carries a bottle/vile of Katsuki’s sweat. Whenever he needs some fire power (haha pun intended), he throws it at a villain and then shoots his fire and BOOM. 

He’s more of a long-range fighter, but he’s been training for short-range attacks, too. When he’s fighting an opponent and dodges them with his arms, he activates his quirk so by touching them, he can freeze or burn them, depending where he’s touching like an arm or a leg.

He has multiple burns on his left side.

Because of the burn on his left eye, he lost sight in it and now he’s blind in that eye. He has a kick ass support item/prosthetic eye designed by Mei and she has all these features he can use like infrared/heat-sensing/night vision. So he has that advantage over people because nobody can sneak up on him from behind. 

That prosthetic requires a support item to be attached to his head so that it can receive environmental signals and relay it to his prosthetic so he has a green earring on his left ear. It also records information and stores data so it’s useful when he’s working on investigations. 

He and Ochako train together because she needs training against long-range fighters and Shouto needs training against short-range fighters. Even though Shouto can freeze her in place, she touches him and sends him out of the space they train in. 

The dekusquad works out together and helps each other out, especially when motivating each other while lifting weights and working on particularly difficult exercises. 

Shouto likes sitting on Izuku’s back while Izuku does push-ups. He usually reads a book or eats soba, or he counts for Izuku and cheers for him. Yes, this is a reference to that one fanart, but I can’t find it so if someone could get the link for me, I’d really appreciate it. 

Izuku is the toughest when it comes to working out. Shouto likes to train with him when he wants a solid workout because Izuku is not his boyfriend when they train. Izuku takes things very seriously and Shouto enjoys that attitude. He also thinks it’s hot when Izuku yells at him. 

He believes he is not fast enough, so he trains with Tenya and has asked him about exercises to help with his speed. 

Shouto lets his hair grow long because he wants to look like his mom. He’s tried dying it to cover his crimson hair, but the dye dissolves when he uses his flames. He asked Mei to make him a special, fire/heat resistant dye and she was more than happy to oblige. 

Honestly he’s her favorite customer besides Izuku and Tenya. 

He is weak around children. To the point where he will weep if they are being extra cute or if they dress up like him. When he is a pro hero and he sees kids dressed up as him, he feels so happy about it and tells them they look amazing. 

He doesn’t get involved in politics, but he has spoken out on his disapproval of quirk marriages and they should be illegal. He also advocates/supports people who have been abused and visits centers to volunteer. 

When he rescues kids, he makes sure to give them a smile and to reassure them that they will be alright. He provides warmth with his left side to help them feel safer. It’s always a great feeling when the kids hold on to him and smile back even if they were just rescued from danger. 

Izuku and him have the best teamwork and Aizawa has praised them for it. “You don’t have synergy with your quirks, but your teamwork is so good it doesn’t matter.” 

As a pro hero, he likes to take on interns who have fire/ice/strength quirks. The first two because he himself has them, and the latter because he knows the mechanics of a strength quirk thanks to Izuku. 

He doesn’t like to use kettles to boil water, so he uses a pan and boils water there or heats water in the microwave instead. Kettles give him anxiety and when they whistle, he panics. So no kettles allowed whenever he is in the general vicinity. The dekusquad will kill the kettle. I got inspired by this fanart/headcanon set for this one.

When he’s older and he and Izuku are together/married, he wears his t-shirts, like 100% Beef or Training To Be Like All Might, and because Izuku has worn them in public before, there’s pictures of him with them on. So if Shouto gets asked about the shirts, he just says they’re Izuku’s. That’s it, nobody needs that much context. 

When his mother is released from the hospital, Shouto goes to live with her. He takes her out to eat or to go shopping or just to spend time together. He buys her gifts and spoils her. And he is always hugging and kissing her. 

When he’s older, he becomes less oblivious, but he pretends to not understand so people can back off, mainly reporters. 

Speaking of the media, he doesn’t like to share his personal/private information with the media except for a few occasions. When a reporter was curious about his orientation, he didn’t want to answer because he didn’t think it mattered what his preference was. But the reporter asked him if it would embarrass his father and that instantly convinced him to grab the microphone, look at the camera, and announce he was gay. RIP Endeav*r. 

Again speaking of the media, he may not like talking to them, but he isn’t rude about it. He answers quick questions and then excuses himself. But he is VERY nice to the public and will sign autographs and take pictures with people. 

He likes to talk about All Might so whenever he and Izuku start talking, they don’t stop. They can talk for DAYS and won’t run out of things to discuss. 

He focuses a lot more on teamwork rather than working alone because he has experienced that working with others gets better results than working individually. He also never takes credit for what he does, even if he was involved. He doesn’t need to take credit to know he did his job. 

Because of this, he doesn’t care about ranks anymore. If he’s a top hero, that’s great, but he doesn’t need a rank to be a hero. He’s a hero because he wants to save people and be like All Might, and be the kind of hero he wants to be. Doing it just for a rank would make him feel hollow and hypocritical. 

He refuses to work for his father after he graduates from UA. Instead, he works for Tensei Iida over at his agency and gets great experience and grows as a person and as a hero because Tensei is an open and honest boss with ideals that match Shouto’s. 

When he and Izuku have more experience and money, they set up their own hero agency and become a duo. They have multiple sidekicks and heroes working for them. They also accept interns and have even request the whole Class 1A from UA every year, but they always get turned down and are told they can only have up to 2 interns. 

He’s very careful with his quirk output, when he has to, he goes all out and lets loose. Like he will use both fire and ice together and cause big ass explosions like he did in the sports festival. He has multiple attacks like this that work well against larger villains. 

He is intimidating even when he isn’t mad. He has a resting bitch face and people are scared of him. But when he opens his mouth and starts talking, it’s all Gucci because he’s not that scary once he talks about random things like his favorite heroes. 

Speaking of his favorites, he shamelessly wears their merch and will promote them, like All Might and his classmates from 1A. (You think Izuku is the only one doing this??? Of course not! 1A is family and love and support each other throughout their careers. Shouto does his part and wears their shirts.)

He loves Izuku’s mother. When they met, they instantly clicked and wouldn’t stop talking about cooking and baking and other things (like Izuku). She showed him baby pictures of Izuku and he came so close to crying because he couldn’t believe how cute he was as a kid. He fawned over the pictures and asked for copies. This made Izuku very flustered and Inko very happy. Instant son-in-law.

When he gets the chance, he can sleep all day. His friends get concerned when they don’t see him come out of his room and think he’s hurt or dead, but he was just sleeping. After living in the dorms for a few weeks, the kids are used to it by now and don’t worry it. 

He and Aizawa have talks sometimes and it gets very deep. They both have monotone voices so when someone overhears them, it sounds funny even if they’re both being serious. 

[canyouhearthelight]

The Miys, Ch. 52

Happy Tuesday, everyone!  We have a pretty fun chapter today, so I hope you all enjoy it.

Also, we have another cameo from a character who was submitted to the character contest. @dierotenixe, I hope you like it!

Speaking of, I am currently at 408 followers, which is mindblowing. I love you all and I appreciate every note I get on these chapters, especially the comments and reblogs. You each keep me going every single day with this story.

Alistair showed up, not bright-eyed but at least early the next morning to discuss the results of the festival. I was barely out of bed, stifling a yawn as I greeted him at the door and shooed him inside.  Not having been allowed entry on the one occasion he had previously ventured to my quarters, he glanced around as though cataloguing the contents. A snore erupting from the bedroom sent his attention whipping that direction with wide eyes.

“Coffee?” I offered calmly, refusing to be embarrassed or laugh at his incredulity.

“You allowed me inside your quarters while a gentleman caller is still here?” he hissed in reply. I took that as a yes and staggered toward the kitchen. “That is incredibly uncouth, Sophia. I expected better of you, at least.”

“Not a caller,” I yawned again, handing him a steaming mug. “They live here, and they don’t have to be on duty for another two hours.  Figured I’d let them sleep in.  It’s been a very eventful few days, they deserve it.”

He scowled at me in disdain. “You could have simply asked me to come back at another time.”

I waved his objections off, gesturing toward the armchair. “It’s fine, I swear. I would have still been in my pajamas, and GK and Lyric would have been here, most likely.  They usually swing by for a few hours if I’m going to be home alone all day.”

A particularly loud snore prompted a sleep-husked objection and a grunt before the snores got much quieter.  I ignored the eyebrows that threatened to leave Alistair’s face in favor of the ceiling and flicked open my data pad instead. “How did the numbers from yesterday look?”

“What? Seriously? You really expect me to just ignore – “

“Alistair,” I interrupted sternly.  “I told you I would be in my quarters, working, for the next several days. I don’t know what you expected, but you probably won’t find it.  I’m staying home so I can recover from handling the festival, which means I’m not getting primped for work, my partners will likely be here, and yes, one snores.”

“Partners? Plural?” he nearly shouted, redder than embarrassment could account for.

“Oh, bloody hell, you posh wanker,” Conor’s voice bellowed from the bedroom. “Some of us are sleeping!  Either pipe down, or feck off! Jesus…”

Instead of the reaction I expected, my assistant was immediately mollified. “Ah, well then.  Messers. MacMaoilir and Okima, I’m guessing?”

I quirked an eyebrow curiously. “Does it really matter?”

“I believe it quite matters.” He actually sounded offended. “Those two are clearly smitten with you, and good men, besides. I was worried you had some other dunderheads here.”

“You do realize it could have been a woman?”

“If a woman snored like that, I would have much graver concerns about you and your taste in partners, I assure you.  Such as a female what? A warthog, perhaps?  While we may no longer be on Earth, I do believe that is still illegal.  Or at the very least should be.”

“Well, then. Now that I have Uncle Alistair’s approval…”

“Bite your tongue.”

“Can we please work, now?” I begged wearily.

Getting down to business, Alistair provided a summary of the data he had spent the previous day reviewing.  Mostly, it confirmed the early reports: Overall, the festival had been a rousing success with minimal complaints reported.  The low-stimulation session was viewed highly favorably, with a note to include it in future events, accompanied by requests from those who had been able to attend a ship-wide social event for the first time.

Tyche’s suspicion about natto was partially confirmed, as well.  “Can you please explain to me why the food festival as resulted in a sudden increase in rotten soybeans from the food consoles?” Alistair asked, drily.

I shook my head and held up my hands. “For starters, they’re fermented, not rotten. Second, please tell me it is not programmed in the consoles under that term?”  I shut my eyes and mentally crossed my fingers in vain hope.

“Of course not,” he scoffed, prompting a whoosh of breath from me. “However, I was curious what dish was so popular, so I searched the database from Earth.”

“I think it ended up being the single most-popular dish we could track,” I admitted. “But it’s still decidedly not rotten.”  I always tried to be impartial to foods I didn’t like, and I was trying the hardest I could remember with what was decidedly my least favorite food.

“Fine. Controlled rot.”

I sighed and pinched my nose. “Lots of foods are fermented, Mr. Worthington, including several I am sure you quite enjoy.”

“Alcohol is not a food, Miss Reid.”

“Bread. Cheese. Sour cream. Yogurt,” I ticked off on my fingers. “Miso. Fish sauces. Kimchi. Just about any hot sauces or anything with vinegar…” I glanced at him pointedly.

“Bread is not fermented,” he grumbled.

Behind us, a sleepy voice interjected. “Leavened bread is, especially sourdough.”  I turned to see Maverick scratching his bare chest and stretching, his hair sticking out at angles from sleep.  “Was the natto really popular enough to make it into a report?”  Without asking, he gathered our coffee mugs and shuffled off to the kitchen to refill them.  When he returned, he had one for himself. “Besides, you left out pickles.”  He dropped a kiss on top of my head before collapsing on the couch next to me.

“It was either that popular, or that disgusting,” Alistair confirmed before taking a grateful sip of hot caffeinated heaven. “Either way, people are requesting enough that poor Noah has asked if we need their services to augment the atmospheric scrubbers.”

“People could be using it for pranks,” Maverick warned as he slung an arm around my shoulders. “Granted, some people probably actually like it, but still.”

I wrinkled my nose and thought for a minute. “If that’s the case, I’ll suggest to Xiomara that we check the sensors to identify who did it and make them eat the stuff.  Not a fresh server of it, the actual server they used for the prank.”

“She would never agree to it,” Alistair warned.

“Au contraire,” I smirked. “She likes the taste but hates the smell. And the medbay can fix food poisoning. To her, it would be a very solid case of the punishment fitting the crime.”

Hands flung in the air with exasperation, my assistant surrendered. “If you get that policy passed by the Council, I will…” He thought for a moment. “I will learn to swim.”

“From the mermaid,” I insisted, inciting a yelp from Maverick.  How Conor was still asleep, I had no idea.

“Fine. From the mermaid,” Alistair agreed, sticking his hand to shake.

Laughing, I shook my head and took it. Maverick shook me slightly. “What mermaid? I thought mermaids were made-up. Please tell me they’re real. I wanna see one.”

“Kinda real?” I hedged, glancing at him. “Nixe is the beginners’ diving and swimming instructor.  I don’t know what happened to her before coming on the ship, but her file shows she suffered an incredibly significant brain trauma. Like, she should be dead kind of serious.  Our best guess is that she was a professional mermaid performer at some point, because she has an amazingly detailed memory of a life that didn’t exist and a swimming tail that ended up being some of the most expensive nanotech anyone on the ship has ever touched, let alone seen.  Even Noah was somewhat impressed by it.”

“That’s sad but kinda cool,” Maverick admitted, only slightly disappointed.

Alistair scoffed before ending up on the receiving end of my best death-glare. “And she’s nice and patient,” I asserted, somewhat angrily.

“She’s barmy,” he argued.

“And I don’t care,” I ground out. “She is on this ship, so she needed a task.  Teaching swimming makes her feel useful, and she is incredibly. Good. At. It. Grey and Noah cleared her psych eval – she’s no crazier than anyone else on this ship.  And anyone who can swim in over forty pounds of gold gets an automatic lifeguard certification from anyone on this ship who can swim.  Believe me, I ask frequently.”

Alistair opened his mouth to respond, but discovered one of the virtues of having a conversation that included Maverick. “Wait – how much weight? And gold?” my partner asked, astonished.

“Forty pounds,” I confirmed. “They’re actually diving weights, but tests show they really are solid gold. And they could be made of paper for all that they slow her down.”

“She could at least have her memories restored,” Alistair begged, trying to get me to see his version of reason.  Before I could snap a response, Alistair’s gaze snapped up over my shoulder on the opposite side from Maverick.  Apparently Conor hadn’t been able to sleep through our argument.

“They can’t be restored,” he stated, quietly but factually. “Asked Grey about it once, Charly did. The brain tissue was regrown, but without an exact scan of her brain – down to the molecules – those memories are gone.”

“But Miss Reid has her full memories from before she was attacked,” the argument came.

“Cause our brains are scanned every sixty seconds we are on board,” was the response. “Only exception is when we’re asleep or bathing.”  Maverick squeezed my shoulder at hearing this, before grabbing Conor’s hand to reassure him.  It was still, and probably would always be, a sensitive topic.  “On top of that, we are constantly being healed of minor ailments and even aging.”

That was news, even to me.  I chanced a crick in my neck to look up at him. “Why aging?”

He stared down at me, pointedly.  When I still did not understand, Alistair gasped softly. “Children,” he nearly whispered. “So there are people who can carry and raise children.”

I swore under my breath at my stupidity. “Of course,” I groaned. “With the exception of Derek, everyone on board is old enough that we would be largely middle-age by the time we reached the colony.  Hell, a lot of us already are.”  I tapped my knuckles on my lips, brain firing on all six processors to calculate the impacts.  Absentmindedly, I handed Conor my coffee and ignored Alistair’s curious glance as I heard it gulped down before footsteps headed to refill it. “Do we know how much of the aging is being ‘healed’?  Are we staying at the age we were when we came on board, or are we getting younger?”

“I’m not sure,” Conor admitted as he walked back in and returned my mug, shoving me and Maverick over so he could sit in his usual spot. “Noah?” he called out. He didn’t ask the question on our minds, as we were all aware that Noah was listening to everything in my quarters.

“Good Morning, Conor,” was the reply. “To answer your implied question, any environmental factors that cause humans to grow old are consistently being repaired, along with damage due to cellular senescence.”

“How?” I asked. I was absolutely floored.  Human…. Terran scientists had been trying to figure that out since recorded history.

“Food and drink additives to limit telomere shortening, along with therapeutic chemicals in the bathing system,” was the slightly chagrined reply. “Everyone brought on the ship was treated for progerial genetics and non-superficial environmental damage that would lead to premature aging.”

“Are we getting younger?” Maverick whispered.  Given his childhood and mine, I couldn’t blame him for the fear in his voice, and squeezed him back just as hard as he grasped me.

“Only marginally,” Miys clarified. “By the time we reach the colony planet, only five Terran revolutions of aging should be reversed from when we left your planet.”

To my surprise, Maverick looked horrified. “Noah.  Does that apply to every person on the Ark?”

“Only those who are outside of their maturing period.”

“So, not any humans who were under the age of twenty…five?” Alistair ventured suspiciously, seeming to pick up on what Maverick was suggesting.

“No, Administrator Worthington.  Only humans whose aging exceeded the equivalent of thirty Terran revolutions of standard aging are provided telometric and progerial treatments.”

“Thank you, Noah,” Maverick sighed, running his free hand through his hair and nodding at my assistant.  “And thank you.”  To myself and and Conor, he clarified. “Derek is only seventeen. Sam is not even thirty, and Zach is twenty-six.  It wouldn’t be fair for them to barely get out of puberty – or in Derek’s case, stare down the end of it – and have to go back.  Can you imagine?”

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[delightfullygrace]

ISFP please🌻 thank you

I’m gonna be honest, I know ~1 ISFP and she might be a different type? Or just in a loop? I’m not sure, so I will research and think hard and do my best to come up with a solid answer!! ♡

general opinion: fall in a hole and die | don’t like them | eh | they’re fine I guess | like them! | love them | actual love of my life 

hotness level: get away from me | meh | neutral* | theoretically hot but not my type | pretty hot | gorgeous! | 10/10 would bang

*Going with neutral because I don’t know the type well enough to have a stance on their level of attraction.

hogwarts house: gryffindor | slytherin | ravenclaw | hufflepuff

best quality: Their sense of just being. They don’t need to have their entire lives planned out, they don’t have to stick to a specific path, they don’t have to have a reason to choose their own way, they just do. Their internal compass guides them to their next adventure and they listen well. Because of that, they’re also incredibly accepting of others, no matter where they are in their walk. They still have strong morals they’re unwilling to compromise though, which makes them not only a place of warmth and acceptance, but a place of stability. They have that same sense of confidence INFPs have; “It doesn’t matter where I am, as long as I know who I am, I’m home.”

worst quality: Despite being firm in who they are, they also seem to lack confidence in where they stand with others. They don’t quite realize what a light they are and how they influence those around them every day. They’re in touch with their surroundings and know how they feel about what’s going on, but they don’t have that same assurance for how others feel. It’s like they’re not sure what others are thinking of them, so they go by what others say, which can lead to critiques being personal attacks and positive affirmations— by certain romantic interests especially— being declarations of love. Maybe that’s just my very limited experience with them though. I could be wrong!

ship them with:  ESFJs are the go-to, of course. The security and affirmation ESFJs provide is a perfect home for the ISFP. Feeling comfortable in their relationship, the ISFP would give their all in return. They’d both wholly and completely accept each other too, building a home anyone’s welcome into. Additionally, the ESFJ could give the ISFP advice in an encouraging way and the ISFP could speak their truth freely to the ESFJ. It seems like a couple of perfect harmony, I like it!!

INFPs are also an honorable mention. If it works out, it really works out with these two. They have an understanding with each other like few other types have. They’d wholly devote themselves to each other, but also know when to step back and have alone time. It just works!

brotp them with: ESFPs, ESFJs, and ENFJs. People who just get them, who give them a lot of reassurance, with whom they can have fun, and who won’t take advantage of them.

needs to stay away from: xNTPs who love to argue, think they’re right, and don’t know when to call it quits. xNTPs are fine, but not if they’re pushing the ISFP too far, as the ones my friend’s encountered have.

misc. thoughts: I really want to get to know more ISFPs, but they’re no where to be found!! The one I do know is incredibly kind and loving. She’s super apologetic over everything, not realizing we actually love her and accept every part of her, even the bad sides. Recently, she sent all of her close friends a letter apologizing for never texting us back, which was really thoughtful and also hilarious because I never text anyone back either. The envelopes and pen ink were of our hogwarts house colors too, which was super cute. She’s one of the most assuring people I know and I love her dearly.

Thank you for sending in this ask!! I hope the response is okay. I took a few hours trying to research the type, put it in perspective with my friend, and figure out my own thoughts. It was challenging, but that’s what makes it fun!! Thanks again （＾∇＾）

send me a character type!

[moonlightchess]

On Lesser Ghosts, my perpetually in-progress novel, a cast of current characters:

Brandon Graham: 30 years old, police investigator for the Dorset Police Department of Dorset, Vermont. The sole survivor of serial killer Seth Morgan, active throughout the bulk of the 90s and all the way through 2003, when he was captured shortly after a 15-year-old Brandon escaped his nightmarish year of captivity in the Morgan house. Casually alcoholic, gay, entirely jaded and weary of the world, but stronger than he appears at first glance. Recently assigned to the case of Cora Tycho, a promising young physics student from the Lower Prince area of Vermont who has gone missing.

Dr. Casey Tycho: 30 years old, and Dorset PD’s newest medical examiner. A British expatriate originally hailing from north London, Casey is the antithesis to the human disaster of Brandon. Sharp, extensively educated, responsible and diligent, he wears silk-lined suit vests and ties to work and has been sleeping with Brandon for six months in an arrangement that Brandon refuses to acknowledge as any sort of relationship. He’s quietly accepted this, both out of respect for Brandon’s boundaries and because being black and openly gay in a small Vermont town may not be the most desirable situation. His sister Cora has gone missing, and he hates how little he wants Brandon on the case, but he knows better than anyone how unstable the man can be.

Sara Graham: Brandon’s younger sister at 27 years old, a folk musician and “crafty mess” by her own admission. Bright, curious, extroverted and warm, much of her life has been dedicated to worrying about her brother. She makes beaded jewelry and pottery on the weekends, collects coffee mugs, and is a driving force in Brandon’s life, though he occasionally wonders if she doesn’t resent him at least a little for the way his kidnapping and subsequent fame as Seth Morgan’s sole surviving victim dominated her younger years. The two are very close, and she’s determined to not allow him to lie down and give up on the Cora Tycho case, no matter how much tension and distance it’s created between he and Casey.

Sasha Prescott: Brandon’s boss, police chief of the DPD. Tough as nails, but she harbors a soft spot for Brandon in spite of his sporadic displays of instability and recklessness in the past. Especially protective of Casey, having long since come to the conclusion that Dorset’s black community is small at best and they have to stick together - the disappearance of Cora, a young black woman in her town, has been keeping her up at night. Her hawk’s stare and firm hand keep the entire department in line, but this also means that she has a constant target on her back.

Kris Alden: A mystery. Was with Cora Tycho on the night she went missing during a camping trip in the woods. Claims he went home early, a result of stomach problems. Not much intel on him yet.

Audrey and Stephen: The forensic lab techs, working directly under Casey. Odd, dreamy types, ensconced in their own little world much of the time. May know more than they’re letting on.

Read the first few pages below!

                                                   🔍🔍🔍

09.12.19:

A burning and industrious early-morning sun insisted upon bullying the pleasant warmth of Casey’s skin into something too harsh to ignore as Brandon groaned, rolling over onto his stomach in bed.  Beside him, Casey stretched, languid as an enormous cat, his sleep likely having been far more restful. Still, his smile was tender as he reached for him, and the scent of coffee brewing from the kitchen suggested that he’d already been up once to make it for him. The sweetness of the gesture hurt, and he curled away from his touch. “Too fucking hot.”

“It’s only going to be about seventy today.” Because of course Casey knew the day’s predicted weather already, of course he was as on top of it as he was everything else in his life. Casey, with his autumn-brown skin and gentle, fox-gold eyes like candlelit amber, of course he was ready with coffee brewing and the forecast on his phone. They were the same age, thirty, but Casey was one of those rare people who had been an adult since twelve. He’d probably delighted in collecting school supplies for a new year when none of his friends gave a shit, he was the type of person who always knew where his keys were. He had a set-in-stone laundry day, which had blown Brandon’s mind when he’d first learned of it. Even now, at six AM, he smelled like fresh fucking bread. Literally the worst human, Brandon had long since concluded, but the sex was fantastic.

Wordlessly, he rolled over for his first cigarette of the day, ignoring Casey’s softly disapproving sound behind him. He briefly considered reminding him of his total lack of access into his personal life, that whatever happened between them sexually meant ten kinds of nothing outside the bedroom, but Casey had never pushed or questioned his boundaries. He kept his distance as Brandon rolled naked out of bed, ambling to the window to shove it open before disappearing into the bathroom without further comment. He gave him time to shower before following, tapping his fingertips against the glass shower door with a quiet, “Hey.”

“Yeah?”

“Want company?”

“Oh, uh. No.”

There was a pause, and then Casey’s silhouette nodding silently, turning to go. He was unique in that Brandon never felt so much as a semblance of guilt about bluntly rejecting the affections of anyone but him, and now it felt sharp. The hot spray of water went needle-harsh against his skin, but he still ignored the coffee Casey had left on the counter for him, as well as the text blinking on his phone. Eat something. Don’t be too late for work, Sasha will have your ass. Even now, he did his best to take care of him as much as Brandon would allow, but he rationalized that he’d never promised the man a damn thing. In fact, he’d made his limitations abundantly clear on the first night they’d tumbled, panting, into bed together, roughly six months ago. The problem was, there was another man. He was persistent and jealous, and he was always around. He was sitting on the edge of his bed right now, in fact. Late forties, moon-pale skin and sleek, ink-black hair, his deceptive youthfulness undercut by the coldness lingering in his dark eyes.

Seth waited, silent, watching Brandon dress. The most attention he ever paid to his honey-blonde mess of hair was a quick tugging of his brush, and the woodsmoke cologne his sister had given him for Christmas last year was left mostly unused on the dresser. His morning routine had long since boiled down to a quick shower, shave, and brushing of teeth and hair before throwing on whatever happened to be clean regardless of its fashionable implications. Today, Seth watched him button up a loose black Oxford over a pair of battered jeans, before embarking upon a ten-minute search for his keys because he wasn’t Casey and never would be.

A light drizzle began to dissolve the heat of the day like sugar in warm coffee once he was on the road, clouds going dense and dark with the sweet threat of a proper rain. Sasha had already texted him - 9:10, Graham. Late again. Casey had tried to warn him, but then he always did, and Brandon never listened. Elgar helped to swallow Sasha’s nearly tangible contempt for his time management skills as he drove, and beside him, Seth settled into the passenger’s seat to stare thoughtfully out at the increasingly heavy rain.

10.4.2003:

This far north into Vermont, where Seth’s house teetered on the border into Canada, winters descended early and lingered long. The ceiling-to-floor steel and rebar support pipe Brandon had been handcuffed to by the wrists for the past two weeks had absorbed the seeping chill, and Seth had only dressed him in a filthy, tattered wifebeater and a pair of old blue flannel pajama pants that smelled suffocatingly of mothballs. He woke every few hours with numb, stinging toes, shivering and dripping. The handcuffs Seth had restrained him with had to have been ordered from somewhere - there was no soft pink fur lining to suggest an intended use of foreplay, and instead they were solid in a deadly way, a way that thunked every time he slid them locked with a firm sense of finality. 

A fever burned through his bones overnight near the middle of October, and finally some part of Seth seemed to awaken to his basic human needs. He was provided a deeply itchy wool blanket that felt woven from canvas and sandpaper, but it did the job of keeping him warm. Every few nights, his worn boots would thud down the basement steps to offer him a plate of cold, congealed noodles that he’d clearly been keeping in the fridge. His wrists went raw and scabbed with the endless scrape of the cuffs, his knees cramping in their bent position. Stretching his legs was possible, but uncomfortable. The days began to melt together, the constant darkness of the basement transforming time into a static thing. He slept when the wave of exhaustion became too much to fight, he woke and watched the shadows when sleep eluded him. He lost all sense of night or day, the passage of hours.

Three weeks deep, the frantic hope that he’d be found began to fade. The basement began to feel like his place, and he began to forget what it felt like to not fall asleep hugging a metal pipe. Seth was strangely reassuring, an exponential effect that seemed to correlate with his slow acceptance of his situation. As time dissolved and desperation waned, Seth’s approval bloomed. Sometimes, now, the noodles were warm and slick from boiling water, fresh. His blanket was replaced with a less abrasive one, albeit filthy. At fourteen years old, Brandon learned that life began and ended here in his cold, dark basement. The memory of the day he’d been taken seemed irrelevant now, the faces of his parents to whom he’d clung so desperately in those early days.

“I know that you don’t understand.” Seth’s voice was soft, gentle more often than not, sedately erudite like a classics professor on vacation in the woods for the holidays. He was quite articulate, expressing himself fairly eloquently whenever he came into the basement to speak to him. “It sounds trite, like something Keats might have written, but believe me when I say that this is your chrysalis phase, Brandon. It’s tight and uncomfortable and emerging will be a painful struggle, but I want you to trust me. I know it’s asking a lot of you right now, but I also know that your eyes are open and you’ll get there. I trust you already.”

He wore a lot of high-collared fleece sweaters in earth tones and he kept his silky hair longish, framing his face in a soft sort of way that left him mild and relaxed to the eye. Brandon learned to crave him, the only human voice, presence, that he’d experienced in a month as the end of October approached. He couldn’t express this yet, but Seth would smile down at him, bending at the knees to wrap him in a new blanket or to offer him the day’s plate of noodles. Sometimes the blankets were splattered with fresh bloodstains and sometimes the noodles were wrapped around bullets of sausage that tasted blandly wrong, but he was there.

Once, shortly before Halloween, the burgeoning bond between them inspired him to blurt, “I wouldn’t say anything, you know. You could just let me go, you wouldn’t even have to drive me home. I’d never tell anyone, I understand your work here--” because Seth had often referenced his cryptic “work” without elaborating. “I won’t try to stop you, you could just--”

Seth’s open hand slammed into the side of his head, smacking his skull into the metal pipe with a gut-churning clang. The world exploded into white fire, his vision briefly going dark as his brain struggled to retain consciousness. A thick, hot ooze of dark blood began to gush from his nostrils, but he was too resigned at that point to so much as scream. Instead, he moaned softly, sagging forward as his head began to throb in time with his heartbeat. The agony was blinding, but he didn’t pass out, which came as something of a disappointment.

A month and a week passed.

09.12.19:

Dorset’s PD’s station was one of the lingering bastions of old-school police architecture, all museum-high ceilings and wooden desks arranged in rows. Brandon wove his way between them on his way to Sasha’s office, set high above the ground floor grunts and their ancient desktop computers. He’d always respected the way she’d left the glass panels that made up the front wall of her office intact, leaving her visible to her officers and techs alike. She was typing on her own laptop when he tapped his fingers against said glass, waving him inside. A still-steaming paper cup of Two Brews sat on her desk, littered with loose papers that themselves were littered with her scribbled notes. My office, whenever you decide to show up, she’d texted him.

Sasha Prescott was forty-four years old with dense, dark curls clipped short and precise. With her high cheekbones, full lips and velvet-dark skin, she could easily have been a model even in her middle age, dominating an industry obsessed with youth. And dominate it she would have - there was a carefully cultivated air of laser focus that she wore like armor wrapped around her, her narrow, jewel-black eyes piercing through lies and alibis like a hot knife through butter. She and Brandon’s mutual respect had led to a highly efficient and successful working relationship over the years, and they both appreciated that neither was in any way interested in developing any sort of personal friendship outside of work.

Now, he dropped into the Quaker chair in front of her desk and considered making an attempt for her coffee, which she didn’t appear to have started drinking yet. Her signature plum lipstick had not yet stained the rim, but she zeroed in on his intent with her standard razor perception and shook her head. “I will literally stab you,” she said casually, and he let his hand fall to his knee instead.

“What’s up?”

“First off, roll in here late again and I’ll write your ass up. Secondly, we have a delicate situation in our laps right now and I want some input on how to deal with it.”

Arching an eyebrow, Brandon kept his tone as nonplussed as possible. Too much visible interest might have convinced Sasha to change her mind, one of her stranger quirks. “I’m listening.”

“Cora Tycho is missing, as of somewhere around midnight last night.”

He nearly rose to his feet despite his resolve, an icy fist punching straight through his ribcage to seize his heart. “Casey’s sister?”

Sasha confirmed this with a short nod, her lips pressed tight. “She was out camping with a friend near the Lower Prince quarry. Her friend, Kris Alden, fell ill shortly after they ate dinner and decided to go home. Cora wanted to drive him, but there was no one available to take her back once he was home and he claims he felt guilty about making her miss some super-moon or whatever the hell it is, told her he could make it home on his own. She never came back from the woods, the Alden kid shared a class with her that she skipped this morning and no one has been able to reach her via call or text. It’s not enough to assume that she’s officially a ten-fifty-seven just yet, but people are starting to worry. She’s never been someone to just bail on everything like this, Kris described her as very thoughtful and responsible.”

“You’ve already sent someone out to talk to him? Does Casey know?”

“Not yet. That’s actually what I wanted your input on - obviously he’s not getting anywhere near this case, but given the personal nature of your relationship with him what are your thoughts on his capability to handle the work environment in general as it’s investigated? Should I just send him on a vacation until this is cleared, or is he frosty enough to stay professional here at the station while his sister is missing? You know him better than any of us.”

Brandon’s brain reeled. “Personal nature? I don’t know what sort of relationship any of you are under the impression that we--not that any of you should have any impression of our relationship, I mean. Shit. We’re not in a relationship! I barely know him!” His voice was raising in pitch while he remained completely unaware, his knuckles going white around the armrests of the Quaker chair. Sasha exhaled sharply through her nose.

“Jesus. Do I need to send you on a vacation too? Get your shit together.”

“Fuck. Okay.” Pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger, he exhaled. “Casey is one hundred percent able to handle working while this is being solved, but that doesn’t mean he should. I doubt he’ll let you send him on a vacation, but try anyway. He doesn’t deserve to be here all day, trying to focus on other shit while half of Dorset is trying to figure out if his sister’s body is rotting in the woods somewhere. He should be with his family.”

“I’ll do my best. I’m giving this girl until tonight to turn up, and then I’m issuing a gloves-off ten-fifty-seven.” Sasha’s voice went to iron, and it occurred to Brandon that she cared for Casey as much as anyone at the DPD did. He was the lifeblood of the forensics labs, their unflappable new medical examiner whose lingering British accent left over from a youth spent in west London had a way of soothing even the most panicked and horrified relative of one of his corpses. 

“I need you to go into far more detail about the supposed “nature” of my relationship with Casey, up to and including just how the hell you even knew about it at all. Not that it’s anything. At all.”

“Would you kindly climb off my dick, Graham? I’ve got enough shit on my plate right now.”

“Sasha.”

“Settle down. No one else knows anything, even though according to you there’s nothing to know. It’s just that a lifetime of police investigation have left me a highly observant person--”

“A lifetime? You’re in your forties, don’t start writing your memoirs yet you drama queen.”

“...And as such, I’ve noticed you two leaving work together occasionally, showing up around the same time in very deliberately separate cars but sometimes accidentally wearing each other’s shirts, things like that. Things only I would ever notice, I promise. No one else has mentioned anything to me, and you know they would if the rumor mill was running about it.”

“Fine. Whatever. Any more intel on Cora?”

Wordlessly, Sasha slid a manila envelope across her stately desk. Opening it, Brandon was confronted with a glossy photo of a beautiful young woman, all sparkling honey eyes and rich dark skin like a sunset’s sweet glow, thick black hair meticulously oiled and wrapped and beaded into immaculate dreadlocks that she’d pulled back with a sky-blue silk scarf for her senior high school photo, Cora wore her brother’s beauty as elegantly as he did. They shared the same royally rounded nose and high cheekbones, full lips and dimples. His chest ached, and he brushed his fingertips against the photo thoughtfully without realizing he was doing it. Sasha had compiled everything - her academic records, notes on her hobbies and habits, her generally expected whereabouts on any given day. She had no legal record to speak of, her profile speaking to a bright, clean-cut girl with a gleaming future in physics.

“She was a student at NVU,” Sasha supplied. “Is a student. Solid grades, a quiet type, well-liked by her peers but not known to be a partier. Close with her family, especially our Casey. Loved to cook, according to reports. She entered several baking competitions last year, even won a couple. Played the violin all throughout high school, but turned down a suggested spot on NVU’s student orchestra. Said she didn’t want it to interfere with her study time, according to the orchestra leader I called. She seemed laser-focused on her goal of working for NASA someday, had a whole vision board about it on Pinterest.”

“I’ll start with Kris Alden. I’ll head out to his place today.”

“Start with Casey. I don’t want him to hear about this on the news, and my official statement on the case is going live tomorrow morning.”

“Shit. Okay.” Scooping the file up under his arm, he rose to his feet. “I’ll go talk to him, he down in the forensics lab?”

“With Audrey and Stephen. See if you can get him alone, he won’t like his techs seeing him break down in front of them if he reacts poorly.”

“How the hell else do you expect him to react to the news that his sister is missing?”

“I’m just saying, let’s be conscious of how difficult this is going to be for him. You’re not exactly known for your tact, but you have the best shot at holding him together here. You know as well as I do that the longer we go without finding this girl, the less of a chance we have.”

Brandon paused at her office door. “I don’t know,” he said quietly. “Took me a year to get out of that basement.”

He hated the way her gaze softened, and so he made his way out without a goodbye to make a point, ignoring the irritating hiss of her compressed-air door mechanism that refused to let him leave with a satisfying slam. The forensics lab and department morgue was located in the basement of the station for obvious reasons, a narrow elevator depositing him into the DPD’s underground two minutes later. The temperature dropped by a few degrees once the doors slid open, the stone all around them cooling the air. He couldn’t hear the rain anymore, down here, and he found Audrey and Stephen hunched over a severed hand on a sleek chrome examination tray in the lab.

Audrey was tall and willowy, twenty-six with ice-blonde hair wound into a messy braid that she’d draped over one shoulder, so pale and slim that there was something ghostly about her, especially when taking into consideration her gray eyes so light and translucent they were nearly colorless, like a mirror or a deep-sea creature. She wore a white lab coat over a pair of black jeans and a loose, baggy gray sweater - she wore a lot of gray, black and white, and she always looked like a spectre, an overcast ocean. The selkies would have accepted her as one of theirs upon sight. Stephen was only barely as tall as her, with a much friendlier face, soft freckled cheeks and tanned skin suggesting a childhood spent outdoors working off baby fat. He had peanut-brown curls tumbling over his forehead and round, intelligent hazel eyes, a sharply defined mouth and an easily cheery demeanor. Oddly enough, he and Audrey were quite close.

“Hey guys. Anyone seen Casey?”

“Down in the morgue.” Audrey pointed to her feet, indicating the sub-level beneath them. “He left this hand with us and told us to collect data samples and disappeared. He’s been down there all morning.”

“Do you know whose hand it is?”

“Pretty sure it belongs to that wheat farmer who turned up in the hospital last week missing one. I mean, how many hands could there be unaccounted for in Vermont right now?” Stephen grinned, snapping his gum. He took a kind of morbid glee in his work, something Brandon had always suspected Audrey shared with him.

“Left hands, to boot,” Audrey added, shrugging. “How are you, Brandon?”

“I’m fine. I’d love to stay and um, look at the hand with you guys, but I’ve got to talk to Casey. Have...fun?”

Stephen’s grin widened. “Oh, we will, friend.”

“I hate the way you say things.”

Stephen’s laughter followed him back into the elevator, which delivered him to the bottomost floor of the DPD headquarters. Casey was there, bent over his own work, having forgone his stiff lab coat in favor of his neatly tucked-in dove-gray button-down, black silk tie, charcoal dress vest and matching creased slacks. His leftover British sensibilities were evident in his crisply classic style, always semi-formal and expensive even when he dressed “down” in Burberry cashmere sweaters and custom-tailored jeans. He looked so unflappable that Brandon’s faith in him was stirred anew, and he approached with more tenderness than was normal for him. His aura alerted Casey to something amiss upon impact, and he narrowed his eyes at him before saying a word. “Don’t see you down here often, love.” The last word slipped out before he could stop it, and Brandon watched him flinch minutely, almost imperceptibly.

[kurtty-drabbles]

Life is wonderful au (ancient story)

N/A: Something that pops in my mind.

@djinmer4 @dannybagpipesarecalling @discordsworld @bamfoftheundead

Scott Summers is the first to say that good allies are hard to find, and without falter, the X-men need any allies they can get, but, is this the correct mindset, hence, the dilemma the leader of the X-men is facing at moment. Not even Storm or Beast managed to give a solid answer, and, in times of need is important to make sacrifices.

Clearing his throat. Two times now. Scott speaks with all the bravado one can. "Kitty, what do you think?" his tone is cautious as the others look at Kitty pretending, the best of their abilities allows, not being frightened of her answer.

Kitty´s  right fist is holding her face for a moment as she´s pondering the situation (or not, no one can understand what she´s thinking and Psylocke is not dumb enough to try) and smiles in her mysterious way(is she mocking them? is she amused?)

"I see. Is not every day that an intergalactic race makes contact with you, Scott Summers"  Kitty states amused too amused as she now gives that cat-like a smile, but, she´s not over. "And I can see the plight you´re now, Scott, the Shiar people are a group of formidable warriors, but, the Deltars are even fiercer than them and they don´t take kindly any rejection"Kitty concludes in a serene tone.

The others side-eyed each other for a moment, Ororo nods to Scott as he´s silent asking permission or reassurance to do his next bold move. And, once Storm gave a confidence vote, Scott Summers continues. "So, you think we should accept their offer?"

Kitty scratches her chin now. "Well, I can say the only good thing they´re good fighters, but, only that...the Deltars aren´t provide of common sense...in fact, sit...I want to tell a story"

And no one dares to oppose to that, after all, whatever Kitty is, no one can deny one thing. She has stories to tell. ___________________________________________________________________________-

The planet of Daltars have a name, of course, but, once pledge their loyalty to Chaos itself the name lost all meaning, however, one thing that still makes Daltars a name to be spoken to everyone, even among the Shiars, is the fierce strength they demonstrate in any fight.

That and their devotion to Chaos, in fact, their devotion is completely blind that no mask of Chaos would ever be questioned. After all, why bother? Chaos is versatile.

Tonight, the temple of Doom, horned for IT´s presence has the light and full of followers as for the first time. "Chaos is here. Chaos is here!" as the leader of the group guides them to the entrance to admire the chaos itself.

A beautiful woman who resembles humanoid enough, but, her uncanny eyes and her dark ebony skin, her unmoving lips, her bikini and the open skirt does give away what the woman truly is.

"...Here?" the deity respond mentally with a soft chuckle that rings in everyone present. "How can you say I´m really here?"

The deity can´t speak as her mouth seems sewed. Delicately tailored to remain a perfect line in her uncanny and beautiful face. However, the followers are overjoyed and frighten to see their God.

Days passed down as tension is higher as the deity is walking among the city making questions about...itself with its dogs. Someone, in a hushed tone, asked if the deity shouldn´t be around cats, which is answered quickly by saying that the cats are under disguise.

The leader of the group summons the courage to ask a question to Chaos itself. "Chaos, we´re wondering if you could lend us more power to face the war?"

The deity blinks and pets her dogs. "Still on the chaos thing, huh? Sure, but in order to get more power you must all do something for me" and the man clearly agrees. "I want you to save all the victims of the said war, take them to a safer place and take care of them, if I like the work I may lend more power" and the deity is now playing ball with the dogs.

The shiars are confused as to why the Daltars are helping victims of a previous war that they caused. Their only reply? Chaos orders us.

A few time later, someone approaches the deity who is a garden (a new thing the deity crafted for herself) and asked an audience with Chaos itself. "Oh boy, this will be good," the deity said as she let her right fist support her face.

The someone reveals to be a woman and she´s on a tangent as to how she had visions about this moment(the deity is not really paying attention, but, let the woman continues to speak) and after some much-elaborated thoughts the woman said "I´m ready to sire you a son"

"...Pass?" the deity said as the woman grovel on the floor, but, she thinks again and speaks, again, mentally. "It seems you know what a lot about my tales, why you don't share with me, all I did in the past...amuses me and I may amuse you"

And the woman left the temple with the satisfaction of soon enough she´ll carry the Chaos´ son.

And finally, a group asked for knowledge of the universe and if is possible to be a god. "You guys? Nope. Besides, how can you want to be a lesser god if you can´t even answer a simple question? Are you real?"

Finally, the deity leaves the Deltars and the dogs follow suit, however, the cats return and aren´t happy about the situation that only they have the mind to notice.

_______________________________________________________________________

"So...they never noticed they were worshipping the wrong God?" Scott asked dubiously at this information/story. Kitty is smiling cheerily. "You...were that God?"

"Oh Scott, I have to give a big clue like that to you to notice?" Kitty shakes her head. "Let me tell you something, the Deltars won´t have a long lifetime, so, if you accept their deal...rest assured they won´t be here for long" and she leaves as Wanda arrives with shopping  and a grumpy Pietro (who has a new haircut)

Scott does the only sensible thing here. "All favours to say no to this deal?" everyone agrees and the X-men know they have an ally in Kitty, a really scary one that they don´t need to make too many questions.

[bigthighsandstupidguys]

Hunger

A Greta Van Fleet Fic:  Momma Kiszka enlist the help of a young professional to keep her boys healthy on the next leg of their world tour. The recent college grad is excited, but has she bitten off more than she can chew?

Chapter One

Warnings: Swearing

Word count: 1784

You had just put your phone down when you saw the new email notification blink. The screen lit up with the email of your college advisor. That was unexpected. You had graduated almost two months ago, what could Debbie be reaching out about? You quickly unlocked your phone to open the email. After a quick greeting and well wishes on a post grad life Debbie began to describe a new position that would fit perfectly with your degree in nutritional sciences and your love of traveling. The employer was a childhood friend of Debbie’s, Karen, who was looking for a nutritionist with the ability to travel and keep odd hours.  Karen wanted the nutritionist to be personally recommended by Debbie.

“I immediately thought of you for the position, Y\N,” read the email, “You were top of your class and had glowing evaluations from all of your internships during undergrad. Plus, I know you were hoping to do some traveling in the years following graduation. I think this would a stellar opportunity. I know Karen’s family, they are good people. Please let me know if you are interested and I’ll go ahead and recommend you to Karen and put you two in contact.”

The email ended with more well wishes. You mulled it over for a bit. From what you understood, Karen had some young sons who would need help with staying healthy while away from home during constant travel. It wasn’t a very detailed description, but your curiosity was piqued.

You currently didn’t have a solid plan for the future. Your paid internship at a local fitness club was about to end in two weeks along with the lease on your apartment. The club had let you know that even though they loved your work, they unfortunately didn’t have the funds to add you as a full-time employee. The most sensible thing to do would be to move back home with your parents at the end of the month and start applying around for a new job. The prospect of moving back to your hometown two hours from the city was not ideal. But the city was expensive and with no steady income lined up, your choice was pretty much made. But this email provided an alluring option.

You quickly replied to Debbie expressing your interest in the job. You wanted to explore the option before you. You had already surrendered to returning to your old room, but now out of the blue an exciting opportunity fell into your lap. Fate? Maybe.

~

You were nervous on the Uber ride over to Karen’s home office. A week ago, Debbie had put you and Karen in contact for what seemed like a promising job opportunity. The first phone call came two days later and was easy enough to get through because Karen had been very kind and asked questions about your experience, your rates, and willingness to make last minute changes in schedules. It was a pleasant and relatively short call. You didn’t get to ask any more questions about the position, but you figured it was mostly an opportunity for Karen to get a feel for you. You felt pretty confident and hoped she’d consider you.

Two days after that you got a phone call from Karen, she was really interested in you for the position, but wanted to clear up a few details before making an offer.

“My kids, they’re technically not kids anymore and one of them is a family friend. The youngest is 19, one is 20 and the other two are 22. They’re basically your age,” Karen spoke into the phone. “Which I’m weighing right now as a pro and a con. The pro is that your young and can keep up with them and you can relate to them, the similarity in age makes you more approachable, I think. However, the con, I’m afraid they won’t respect your expert advice, with you being so young. I’d like to think my boys would act accordingly and follow through with your professional recommendations. I’m willing to give them the benefit of the doubt because you look great on paper and Debbie can’t exalt your skills enough.”

“Wow, I’m flatered, thank you, Karen.” You beamed on the other side of the phone.

“Now, the other thing. The boys are part of a band called Greta Van Fleet, I’m not sure if your familiar with it?”

Holy fucking shit. Holy crap. Was this real life? Hell yeah I knew who they were! Local Michigan legends, they had just won a freakin Grammy!

“Errm, i—am, I do know. I know who they are, who the band is.” Holy shit you were starstruck through the damn phone. This was probably the final test and you were failing it with your stunned blubbering. It clicked together at that moment—the job required constant travel with four “kids”—you were going to tour with Greta Van Fleet as their nutritionist. Well if you could secure the job that is.

Karen gave a knowing chuckle. “I knew it was highly likely that you would know them. I kept the details under wraps while I filtered out candidates. Essentially, you would be working for me “being the mom,” if you will, while they are out touring. I can’t be there with them, but I want someone there to make sure they’re eating right, sleeping and all that. They came home a mess from their last tour, especially Josh,” you could hear the worry in her voice, “and I just can’t stay home in peace knowing they are risking their health like that.”

“I understand. I understand your concern as a mother. It would be an incredible honor to be trusted with your boys’ health while they go rock out in the world.”

Another chuckle. “I want to offer you the position, Y\N. If you accept, I’d like to meet you in person to read through the contract.”

“I do, I accept! When would you want to meet?”

~

That had been a few days ago and now you were on your way to read and sign the contract with Karen. Holy shit. You were going on tour with Josh, Jake, Sam, and Danny. Definitely better than moving back home!

The car came to a stop in front of a lovely suburban home. You made your way to the door and rang the doorbell. The door opened suddenly, “Y/N! Welcome, I’m so glad to finally meet you in person.” Karen waved you in and took your hand to shake it. “Please follow me.” You were in the Kiszka’s childhood home, oh my GOD!

You followed her through a living room full of family pictures. You tried not to stare because you wanted to seem as professional as possible. But dammit you were going on tour with rock stars! Karen closed the door to her office and asked you to sit opposite from her at her desk.

“I think you are going to be a great addition to the tour troupe. I know I’ll feel better knowing your there. I want you to read the contract and let me know if you have any questions.” She bit her bottom lip as she slid the document across to you. It reminded you of Josh and you smiled. You took the papers in your hands and began to read. It was all pretty standard. Ethical practice stuff, non-disclosure clause so I wouldn’t go blabbing to TMZ or something. But then, there was a special clause. Your cheeks began to burn and you wished Karen wasn’t watching you as you read. Basically, it prohibited you from forming romantic relationships with any of the band members…which was basically covered by the ethical portion—you wouldn’t do that with any client, it was a conflict of interests. But this went further to detail that absolutely no sexual contact must happen between anyone in the band and me or it would result in immediate termination of my contract. Holy god this was beyond embarrassing. This kind of stuff usually went without saying, I wouldn’t do that! Why did Karen make this so explicit? Momma bear instinct?

You placed the papers on the desk. “I agree to the terms stated.” You tried your best to keep your voice steady and your face open and relaxed.

Karen stared into your eyes for an extra beat. “I know it isn’t typical to be so…detailed about some aspects. I won’t bullshit with you, I know what kinds of experiences come with the “Rockstar lifestyle”. You seem like a professional and responsible young lady, but I want to make sure you, or anyone that we work with, don’t try and take advantage of the privileged position in the boys’ lives. I hope you don’t take that personally.”

Your first reaction was hurt. It hurt to be considered a type of vulture that would try and get something out of the situation. But then you realized it must be so hard to find people with genuine intentions when money, power, and fame are on the line.

You nodded, “I understand. I hope to carry out my duties in a professional and respectful way. This is an incredible opportunity and I feel very grateful that you trust me. I don’t want that to ever be tarnished.” You really meant it.

“It’s reassuring to hear you say that, Y/N. The boys should be getting here soon, you all need to meet now. I’m also going to be telling them about your role in the crew for the first time. I hope that goes over well.”

Your face dropped. Did she mean that the guys didn’t know about having a personal nutritionist for their upcoming tour? You began to worry. “Karen, do the guys not know about me? Like about this position?” You tried to keep the concern out of your voice, but your wide eyes betrayed you.

Karen looked guilty and her face sank. “I have not told them yet that a professional will be joining the crew, no. I don’t want them brushing it off as me being overprotective. I’m hoping if I present you as a signed on done deal, they wont protest. I realize it puts you in a bit of an uncomfortable position. But I’m certain I’m just overthinking it. I think, yes.” She finished saying the last part more to herself than you.

Fuck. You hoped all the boys would be on board and not hate you for essentially being their mom’s stand in. You had been nervous about meeting the band before. But now, you were downright panicked. You mentally crossed your fingers as you sat and waited.