#spur of the moment fic

[ghostbsuter]

"Quick!" A- a girl? Wraps their arm around Steph's own, dragging her close and shielding their own face. Their eyebrows are knitted together, they're biting their lip.

"Pretend we're out together please– there are some creepy people following me for some time."

Steph's eyes narrow, she scoots closer, practically glueing herself to the strangers side and smiling brightly.

"Gosh," she starts, then lowers her voice, "what should I call you?"

They fumble for a moment too long, and Steph takes a leap of faith.

The blond grins. "It's been so long since we met up again, isn't it, Beatrice!"

The stranger plays along, giggling behind their hand. "I'm sorry, you know I've been terribly busy," they raise an eyebrow at steph, asking for her name silently.

"Agnes," she whispers, and they repeat. "Agnes! My cats have been missing you too, you should come over more."

"I will, I will," Steph promises, peering behind her to watch out, and just like her new friend warned her, there were some weirdos in white lab coats and some in suits walking around, searching.

"Thank you." 'Beatrice' whispers as they walk around a building, leaving the place in the dust.

"No problem." Steph replies with a smile.

They separate once far enough, and 'beatrice' fiddles with something before handing it to her.

"My number," 'beatrice' explains at the bewildered look. "You're pretty cool, I thought– maybe you'd like to stay in contact?"

"Yes!" She jumps at the opportunity, taking the number with care and getting out her phone.

"My name is Danny, He/him." they speak in low tones, steph following right by their side as they continue.

"Steph, She/Her." She shoots him a quick wink before sending a text and hearing the sound of Danny's notification ping.

"I gotta go now. It was really nice to meet you, steph."

"A joy for me as well."

[frankiebirds]

[soupmanspeaks]

Michael Ao3 author AU walk with me here

"hey guys sorry I havent posted much on the Immortal and the Restless fic, I had to do this one errand my father sent me on, its actually a funny story; my dead sister actually possesed this big robot clown that killed her, and I had to like, put her scattered parts back together again, it was a whole thing, but yeah, her murder AI kind of just took over and she tricked me into being a meat suit, so that kind of sucked, and im actually organless atm, so sorry for slower updates, but it is what it is yk"

And then wayyyy later "heyyyyy what's up superstars, sorry for the long hiatus, my soul got put into a robot bear, but that's all taken care of, so chapter 27 soon :3"

[tunastime]

Hey if your still doing the comfort fic thing can you do collection of hoodies with Ranchers? (You don't have to)

HI!! Took me a little to get to this one! Kind of based on the prompt rather than directly verbatim, but I hope you enjoy!

the collection of stolen hoodies (758 words) (x)

The slightly sticky, summer breeze blows warm across the rolling hills of the server. Despite the humidity, the wind offers a much needed reprieve from the still, stagnant air of the mines, and, shaking the water out of his hair still, is managing to dry Tango off as well. He easily rinsed a majority of the soot and grime from his hair and along his exposed arms, scrubbed black soot from his cheeks. Now, stripped down to his cargo pants and socks, Tango lies in the grass, his and Jimmy’s laundry out to dry. He’s spent a large portion of the afternoon clipping it carefully to the hastily constructed clothesline. It waved in the breeze, casting a shadow across his vision every now and again.

Despite this, Tango lies comfortably in the midday light, eyes shut. At some point he turns to dry his back, feeling the heat along his spine and the base of his tail. The grass is soft here, clover and fescue and dotted wildflowers over the hill, stretching further than what Tango can see with part of his face crushed into the soft earth. He lets his eyes shut for a moment, letting the wind and sun dry him off the best it can.

After a moment, Tango stretches, feeling his muscles pull as he twists his neck and pillows his arms under his head. If he’s going to get anything done today besides napping in the sun, much to his rancher’s chagrin, he should probably collect their laundry and give it a good shake before bringing it inside.

Peeling himself from the grass, Tango stands slowly. He stretches his arms above his head, twists back and forth to relieve some of the tension in his back. Scratching dully at his hair, strands still wet between his fingers, he wanders over to the clothesline, still padding barefoot through the soft grass and stepping stones. Most of the clothes are thoroughly dry as Tango begins to tug them from the line, but, notably, his sweater is damp at the fringes and the sleeves where chunks of shade block it from the midday sun. The humidity’s certainly to blame too, making the air ever so slightly damp as it blows through.

Tango frowns. On the line is Jimmy’s overshirt. It’s dry at every edge, and aside from being stiff from its line dry, it’s in perfectly good condition, and much too large for Tango to worry about stretching it out. Tango runs a thumb over the seam at the bottom, worrying the hem between his fingers. A good shake would get the stiffness out. Surely Jimmy wouldn’t mind if it went missing for a part of the afternoon at the behest of Tango’s decency, right? 

Plucking it carefully from the line, Tango tugs the shirt around him. It keeps some of the wind off his back and the sun even moreso, despite the fact that he’s more littered with freckles than he’d ever though he would be in his life. It also smells, still, a little like wheat and grass and smoke, and Tango sighs against the shoulder he’s brought up to sniff and closes his eyes. 

He’s addled for a moment with the idea of Jimmy trying to fit into his sweater in retaliation, and blinks his eyes open. The image of him trying to weasel his big arms in and stretching the fabric out. Tango was by no means tiny, but Jimmy was. Broad. For lack of a better term. Fitting into Tango’s clothes would be a feat deserving of an award. Tango snorts, rolling his shoulders. Maybe one day he could make them a sweater that fit both of them. Which really meant it would fit Jimmy first and Tango by extension—but regardless. It could be theirs. He could make a whole collection of them. Then they could really be set, and Tango could live out his life stealing clothes from Jimmy whenever he wanted to. Yeah. That sounded like a good plan.

A cheesy one, but one he was letting himself have, because, hey, he was feeling sentimental, and Jimmy had finally come to visit, and he was allowed to be happy to see him again, just as he did anyone else. Sighing to himself, Tango folds the rest of the clothes over one arm. Satisfied with the state of their dryness, he takes them, and himself, inside. He should at least give them a good shake and a nice fold before he started thinking about making any new clothes.

[jinnify]

irreplaceable. — park sunghoon

pairing: sunghoon x idol!reader genre: angst? warnings: none. it just hurts a lil to read n imagine word count: seven hundred sixty-nine now playing: glimpse of us by joji extended note at the bottom.

How could he explain that whenever you’d hang up the phone, he’d lay in bed for hours, contemplating whether he should call her? How he’d stay up for days on end writing songs for her to hear on the radio and think of him? Every time you’d lay your head on his chest he imagined it was her instead, making his heart thump faster than it ever had in the months he had been your boyfriend. Sunghoon would be lying if he said he had ever tried his hardest to fall in love with you. Since the beginning, you had only been a filler for her. Your hair. Your eyes. Even your lips were the same shade as hers, but he could never feel the same love he felt for her. You had been nothing but a replacement.

You had fallen head over heels for your coworker-turned-boyfriend. Consistently visiting his groups’ practice sessions or music program promotions to leave some food for them, even when in the middle of your own groups’ promotions. You wished you could say that Sunghoon did the same for you, but you knew you’d never receive that affection you so desperately craved from him. It hadn’t taken you long to figure out that Sunghoon didn’t want you, not even as a friend. You had caught many of the longing looks he reserved for her, feeling your heart shrivel up and die each time he did it. It was easy to ignore at first. You took it as a look of admiration for the idol on the television screen, going as far as even pointing out how it looked like Sunghoon looked up to the group once. The sympathetic cringe that crossed the rest of his group's faces confused you, along with the alarmed look on Sunghoon’s face but you had been all too ignorant of Sunghoon’s feelings then.

Sunghoon had started to feel guilty over his “complicated feelings,” as he put it. He knew he was unworthy of you - of your love. It wasn’t fair to you to pour your entire self into a relationship where the other half wasn’t even trying. He had noticed your distancing yourself lately. There were fewer calls and even fewer dates than there already were. He had gotten word from his members that you had gone abroad for promotions, confusedly pointing out that you hadn’t said a word to him about your comeback. There was a pit that had formed in his stomach. Was there a chance you figured it out? That you had finally given up on the abysmal relationship he had been the one to ask you to be a part of? He couldn’t help but feel the dread build up in his chest, scared for what was to come when you arrived back in Seoul.

It had been a few weeks since you had touched down in Korea without a word from Sunghoon. It hurt to know how insignificant you had been to him, but it had been the final push. You hadn’t made up your mind just yet on how you’d do this, but you had already spent the entirety of your overseas promotions bawling your eyes out and it hadn’t been hard for fans to notice your change in demeanor. You had to end this quickly if you didn’t want your manager to talk to you. You took your phone, quickly scrolling through your contacts pressing on Sunghoon’s. ‘Baby,’ reflected onto your irises in bold, sneering at you for ever having called Sunghoon that word as if he were ever truly yours.

“I got your text. Do you need someth-?” “I want to break up with you.” You hadn’t even let him get his words out before you seemingly ripped the bandaid off. He watched as you silently trembled in place, avoiding his eyes all that you could. Sunghoon quickly digested your words, trying to find his own to properly apologize to you for what he had done. “I-I have to go now. I don’t wanna get in trouble with my manager. Later, Sunghoon.” Sunghoon felt an all too familiar prickle behind his eyes as he watched you walk away, leaving him in some secluded park, away from any prying eyes. His throat had closed itself off in an effort not to cry, prohibiting him from saying anything he had to tell you. He had no right to cry and he knew it, instead, he kicked a stray rock as he stuck his hands in his pockets, walking back to his manager who had silently waited on him, ready to take him home.

EXTENDED NOTE. joji you crazy bastard, you'll rue the day you released glimpse of us. look at what you've done to me.

[i-am-beckyu]

Dancing in your Hands

Full credit for this idea goes to @entomolog-t and this prompt here about gt and dancing. Featuring to random OC's I made up on the spot that will likely only ever exist in this fic lol.

Premise: Human teenage girl doesn't have a date to prom and wasn't going to go. But her borrower friend saw how excited she had been and gets her to go anyways. She has a wonderful night but when it comes to the couples dance she side lines herself because she had no one dance with. She comes home and tells this to her friend who knows how much she had dreamed of this.

word count: 1510 cw: very very very minor hurt but lots and and lots of comfort and fluff.

"You should have just done it Jane." Zephyr sighed as he watched the human teen sit dejectedly onto her bed.

"How could I Zeph? I would have looked so lonely dancing by myself to a romantic song." 

The girl flopped backward onto the soft purple duvet, grabbing a heart shaped pillow and giving it a comforting squeeze.

"I already don't have many friends, I don't need the whole school knowing I can't get a date either."

Zephyr couldn't help but feel sad for his friend. He knew how much this prom had meant to her even if the thought of so many humans gathered in one loud space terrified him. But whenever the teen talked about dancing the night away and having that special ‘one on one’ slow dance with that someone special, he couldn't help but hope she would have the most magical night of her life.

Even if she had reassured him that not having a slow dance partner didn't matter and she still had a good time, he could tell she still longed for that special moment.

Perhaps he could change that.

"Jane," The borrower called from the side table to get the girl's attention.

"Leave your phone here and wait outside of your room, and don't come back in until I call you." 

Jane turned over on her bed to face her little friend, the smaller waiting expectantly for her to follow her instructions.

"Um what for though?" Jane asked, confused. What could he possibly want her to leave her room for?

"Just trust me." Zephyr smiled. "I promise it will be worth it."

The girl furrowed her brow whilst taking out her phone to set it down next to her friend on the side table. It dwarfed his size completely; being almost a whole 2 inches taller than what he already was, but she complied and stood, leaving the room wondering what on earth he could be planning.

It was about 15 minutes later that Jane heard the Borrower call her back inside. 

Her eyes widened in surprise when she entered. 

All around her room the fairy lights she had placed ever so delicately had been switched on, illuminating the room in a soft glow. A melody she recognised from her romantic dance playlist was playing softly from her speakers and created a magical feel to the enclosed space.

And there on her dressing room table stood Zephyr, dressed in his nicest borrowing clothes (the borrower telling her so) and holding a single red rose she recognised from the rose bush just outside her window, high above his head by the steam.

"Zephyr," Jane breathed in amazement at a loss for words.

The Borrower stepped forward holding the rose out to the human girl, which she took oh so timidly. "I don't know what to say." 

"Then say you'll dance with me." The boy asked, reaching his hand out for her to take. "Allow me to lead you in a final dance"

Jane blinked, her brain short circuiting. 

He wanted to dance? 

Her 3 inch tall friend wanted to lead her in a dance?

Jane burst out laughing.

"Zephyr, I appreciate the gesture but I don't think that's exactly possible when you're the size of my index finger." The teen said as she tried to regain her composure between each laugh.

"You're not exactly able to lead at your size."

Jane missed the way Zephyr's face fell as she wiped a stray tear from laughing so much.

"Oh. Right" He said quietly, slowly making his way over to Jane's phone and began to switch the music off. 

"I guess I thought I could give you the special slow dance you always talked about." 

This grabbed the girl's attention.

"I guess it was foolish to think a Borrower like me could give you clearly Human experience."

Finally Jane realised what she had done and saw how dejected her friend looked. Zephyr had rushed to go to the effort of giving her a special slow dance just like she had always talked about, and what did she do? She practically insulted and laughed in his face.

"Zephyr." Jane began crouching down to be on the Borrower's level.

"I didn't mean to hurt you. You did all this just so I could have a special moment and I laughed in your face."

"I just wanted to make your dream come true." The boy whispered, dipping his head down sadly.

"You already have Zeph. You encouraged me to go to the prom in the first place. I had such a wonderful night and I shouldn't go mopping around just because I didn't get the dance I had hoped for. And I especially shouldn't have laughed at you when you did all this for me." Jane reached her hand out slowly and gently lifted the boy's head with her finger, blue eyes meeting smaller green ones.

"I'm sorry Zephyr."

The boy grabbed onto the humans finger and hugged it tightly, a silently accepted apology; the two smiling having made up. Zephyr eventually then pulled away and raised his hand out.

"May I have this dance?" the borrower asked once more, the girls heart melting as he did. 

But there was still one slight problem.

"You may, but how do you want to do this?" Jane asked. As she had said before, how was he going to lead her in a dance when he could fit in the whole palm of her hand?

The Borrower grinned as he lifted his hand up horizontal to his chest and  splayed his fingers apart.

"Hold your hand out like this, and hover it about an inch above the table. I’ll do the rest."

Jane pulled her left hand back a little bit and matched the way Zephyr had instructed her too with her hand before the boy got to work. He gently curled the human's ring and pinky fingers under to rest on her palm and then instructed Jane to keep the tips of her index and middle fingers on the table, before grabbing her thumb and pulling it forward to lift her hand up. 

"Oh you're so clever." Jane exclaimed as she realised what Zephyr had done.

"I've got a finger person." She smiled at the smaller, who returned her smile with one of his own.

Zephyr then quickly ran over to the phone and tapped some buttons till Jane's favourite piece of dancing music came, on before running back and bowing to her finger person. 

She returned the gesture with an awkward curtsey of her own the best she could with her fingers, before the Borrower took the human's thumb in hand, and wrapped the other around her index and middle fingers. His hand barely covered the tip of her thumb at all, and his touch was so light, but the fact the Borrower was even touching her hands at all was a marvel in itself.

As the music began to pick up, so did Zephyr in leading her hand in a dance.

It was difficult given she couldn't turn her hand 360° degrees all the way round, but nonetheless they were dancing. It seemed when she had been practicing to dance for prom, that Zephyr had been learning the leading steps too, because she was certain each step he made was one of her favourite waltz. 

How far they had come since first meeting, from the Borrower not even wanting to interact with a Human to now leading her hand in a dance. She did not deserve such a kind hearted friend.

She couldn't help but gaze at him fondly as he moved her hand about the table dance floor. 

"Hey Zephyr?" Jane asked the borrower as he looked up to her.

"May I try leading?"

He smiled. "Of course Jane." 

Jane carefully released her hand from the smaller before scoping him up and gently laying him against her chest, stepping into the middle of the room before gently swaying with the music.

Zephyr felt the steady rhythm of Jane's heart beat beneath him, as her hands cradled him close. It was soothing and he leaned into it more. Had she done this a few months before, he would undoubtedly be screaming, but he had come to trust and adore Jane so very much. The human holding a piece of his heart though she may not realise it yet, cared for him oh so very much and was nothing like the terrifying humans from stories he had been raised to believe. 

He loved her and he would do anything for her to always see her smiling.

"Thank you Zephyr." Jane whispered quietly. "You truly have made my wish come true."

They stayed like that, gently swaying for the rest of the night, basking in each other's embrace as song after song played, never really wanting the moment to end. 

It may not have been like the fairy tale slow dances like Jane had envisioned in her head, but it was so much more than what she could ever have asked for.

~Fin~

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I AM TAGGING YOU PEOPLE IN THIS CAUSE IT'S GT AND I DON'T KNOW IF YOU'D WANNA READ IT OR NOT SINCE IT'S NOT MCYT GT SO FEEL FREE TO LET ME KNOW IF YOU WAN'T TO BE REMOVED FROM REGULAR GT STUFF!

Tag list here: @local-squishmallow @brick-a-doodle-do @justarandomsloth @da3dm @veryfunkycheesecake @munchkin1156 @kayla-crazy-stuffs @eiscreme135 @orchid-harmony @the-tiny-lurker @nobodywritingao3 @nata2343 @bad-author777

Also hi hi to all who are tagged! There are some people here I haven't chatted with in awhile. Hope you are all well <3

[fullmetalscullyy]

emma i would love to see u tackle royai and cooking for each other (or sharing in food). there's such a warmth and intimacy in making something for someone. it's whole purpose is to sustain life!!!

U R SO RIGHT. SO CORRECT.

so........ how about......... three wee royai moments where they're cooking together............. :)

here with me

read on ao3

summary: there was a reason // i collided into you // Roy and Riza cooking (providing for one another) throughout the years

rated: g | words: 2718 | tags: royai, cooking, young royai, post-canon, happy, childhood friends, sickfic, post promised day

Riza shuffled into the kitchen, following the smell of cooking, to find Roy standing over the hob, stirring something within a pot. And whatever it was, it smelled delicious. It was so flavoursome, it made her eyes water and caused her to break out into a coughing fit, announcing her presence.

And although it caused Roy to startle at the sudden, loud sound, he still grinned over at her.

He almost toppled off the chair onto the floor, in an endearing, hopeless, sort of way, but that was neither here nor there.

The reason he was currently kneeling on a chair though, was because he wasn’t quite tall enough to reach the hob to cook. Although in his teenage years, Roy’s growth spurt still hadn’t hit him yet (much to his dismay), so he’d taken a leaf out of Riza’s book and dragged a chair over from the table so he could see what he was doing. Bless his wee cotton socks too, because before Riza had interrupted and startled him, he’d looked so precious up there, his tongue peeking out from between his lips as his brow furrowed in concentration, eyes darting back and forth between the pot and the piece of handwritten paper beside it, which presumably detailed the recipe of whatever he was cooking.

Riza tightened the blanket around her shoulders and wrinkled her nose in response to the sneeze which was threatening her. “What are you doing?”

Roy beamed at her. “Cooking.” He answered as if it were the most normal thing in the world.

Her brow furrowed. “What?”

He shrugged. “You’re ill. It was the least I could do. Plus, I wanted to.”

“You wanted to.” She blinked at him, unable to comprehend what was happening.

Roy nodded in cheerful agreement, nonplussed about her surprise.

“Is there anything you need me to do?”

“Nope.” Roy even popped the ‘p’.

“Well. Let me help at least –” Riza reached forward to busy herself with assisting him, but Roy was having none of it.

“Ah. Ah!” He swatted at her playfully, brandishing his wooden spoon to keep her back and out of reach. “No. Go and sit down.”

Riza frowned. “Roy, no –”

“Riza, yes. Go and sit down. I’ll cook.”

Sensing she would get nowhere with him and too exhausted and shivery to argue she ambled over to sit at the kitchen table, like he directed.

Riza felt bad though, that he was doing all of this for her while she was ill. He was here to learn alchemy. He was a guest in her home. His family were paying her father to tutor him. And now he’d been left to cook for himself – and her – too? It was too much. Her ailing body failing her was no excuse, and yet, he would have none of her continued attempts to try and help him. Her offers were met with playfulness and patience, but a firm reply which said no. He could manage on his own.

Riza still didn’t feel safe enough to venture far from him and his cooking shenanigans though. He’d once shared how he’d almost burned his aunt’s house down when he cooked and Riza was still unsure if it was a joke or not.

So she watched him like a hawk while he chattered away. Probably to fill the silence, which made her feel even worse, because her ill brain could barely keep up with his train of thought and she felt as though she should offer him something, not just silence. But it was too much for her exhausted body and mind to comprehend.

It was… nice, though. To listen to him. To hear his voice. To hear his stories which he obviously enjoyed telling and sharing.

Secretly, Riza loved it.

It was nice to be doted on for once.

To be cared for.

They both sat down at the table together without incident a short time later. Her bowl of soup was presented to her with a flourish, complete with pristine presentation. One would have thought the young man was a professional cook.

Taking a cautious sip of her soup, Riza politely and gently ignored how Roy was waiting and watching for her reaction as she sampled his dish.

It was… good. Great, actually. Extremely tasty. She tried not to be too surprised at how good it was given how much he’d put himself down about his cooking abilities in the past, but this was delightful. Perfect for her sore throat, and delicious. Not too much for her tender stomach to put away either. It was just enough.

He’d created the perfect dish for her.

Riza swallowed it down and relished in how it soothed her aching throat. And immediately went back for another taste.

“Is it okay?”

Riza glanced up, noticing how nervous he looked, even as she almost started to devour and hoover up his homemade soup.

Still, her face flushed pink. “Yes,” she replied, not quite able to fully find her voice with his attention so directly upon her. It was because of her cold, for sure.

No other reason.

“It’s good. Very tasty.”

Her appraisal lit up his entire face. Roy sat up a little taller in his chair. His shoulders rolled back and his head perked up, but it was nothing compared to the pure joy which brightened his entire being, illuminating him from within.

“Good. I’m glad.” He looked extremely pleased with himself as he tucked into his own dinner.

*             *             *            *             *            *             *

“Riza?” Roy’s disembodied voice called out to her from the doorway to her home.

“In the kitchen.”

Roy entered the room a few seconds later, surprisingly. Riza hadn’t expected him to come straight through to see her. Snow still caked the edges of his boots and the shoulders of his thick winter coat, but he didn’t appear to be too bothered about it. Neither was she, honestly. A little water from melted snow would dry up quick enough, so it wasn’t a problem.

And when he did make his immediate appearance within the room, Roy was ruffling his hair to dislodge the snowflakes which had caught in his dark strands. And like always, Riza’s attention was drawn to him immediately.

As soon as he entered the room.

(It was really becoming a problem.)

Riza had turned to greet him, but the sight of him made her pause.

His hair was tousled, slightly wet from being out in the snow and curling at the ends due to the damp. Since he’d joined the military, he’d started to fill out within his own body with all the physical training they had him doing. His arms, which had been long and gangly as a teen, were now corded with muscle, same with his legs. And now, when he moved to dislodge those pesky snowflakes, his newly discovered biceps flexed. Quite nicely, too.

Not that Riza had been staring, of course.

Definitely not.

Nope.

Riza’s face flamed and she hastily turned back to the stove. “Did you get everything you needed?” She was grateful her voice remained steady as she spoke because on the inside it felt as if her entire being was quivering like a leaf, as it often did around her childhood friend nowadays.

A pesky new discovery, but one she would manage. Through sheer willpower alone.

Riza vowed she would not make Roy uncomfortable with the things which churned within her gut and her chest over him.

“Yep. I got a discount on the vegetables as well. I think the lady in the shop likes me,” Roy chuckled.

Riza felt her stomach twist and the bubbling, happy feeling which had been fizzing within her died.

Crumbled into ash.

“Oh?”

Riza buried it. Buried it deep and locked it down tight. Jealousy had no place here and she was too old, too mature, now, to even consider such a thing.

“Yeah. She was very sweet and kind.”

Roy was a friend. An old friend, who she loved dearly.

Nothing more.

Never mind the fact he’d called Riza and been on the first train back when he learned how her father’s health had taken a downturn. Riza had presumed it was to ask her father about flame alchemy while he still had the chance, but in response to voicing her assumptions to him, Roy’s gaze has hardened. His jaw had locked and he hadn’t looked happy about something. He’d even gone as far to leave the room and once he’d returned, a few hours later, he’d looked dejected, but resigned.

Riza still hadn’t figured out why he’d acted and looked that way. And their friendship felt slightly different because of it.

But perhaps it was simply Riza’s imagination.

“What’s wrong?”

Riza startled and suddenly, he was there. At her elbow. Roy even lifted a hand to grasp her elbow gently, initiating contact with his thumb and forefinger which made her stomach flutter with troublesome butterflies, as it always did.

“What do you mean?”

His eyes searched her face, his brow furrowed and face concerned. Riza just averted her gaze, turning back to dinner before Roy could see too much. Before he could figure anything out she’d rather keep hidden for the sake of their friendship.

Her one-sided affections were hers, and hers to deal with alone. She would not burden him with them.

“Huh.”

Riza didn’t dare look at him, but his sudden response confused her. “What?”

“Nothing.” Roy sounded so nonchalant, such a twist from how he’d looked just a moment ago, which brought Riza’s attention back to him. But Roy had already turned away and was walking over to the kitchen table to unpack his shopping bags.

Riza dropped it. She didn’t want to dwell for too long on what he’d meant by that innocent “nothing”. That sudden realisation which laced his tone.

Her poor heart had endured and suffered enough recently, and she didn’t want to add anymore pressure to it. She owed herself that much currently, at the very least.

Roy appeared by her elbow again, making Riza’s heart jump and stutter. “Is there anything you need me to do?”

“Um…” Her brain was scrambled. Disjointed after trying to make sense of what had just happened between them.

But Roy waited patiently for her brain to stop short circuiting and catch back up with the present.

“Actually… Yes. Would you mind mashing the potatoes?”

Roy beamed at her. “I would love nothing more, Riza,” he replied rather dramatically, equipped with a wink.

Her stomach tumbled again, but Riza forced her brain to reign it in. She reminded herself he was just being Roy. Playful and fun.

The complete opposite of her.

But… Riza was slowly learning. Thanks to him. Thanks to his influence.

She was grateful for that, at least.

Roy rolled up his sleeves, exposing his now toned forearms, and Riza quickly darted her gaze away, unable to linger on the sight for too long. She studied the stew within the pot before her as if her life depended upon it instead, ignoring the young man working methodically (muscles flexing and all) and humming quietly – while so at ease – by her side.

Side by side, they cooked. For each other. For themselves.

A small smile teased Riza’s lips at the domesticity of it all. It tugged at her heart strings. It brought her a sliver of dangerous hope. A childish vision of the future. It made her insides bunch up at the thought of him doing it with someone else… That lady in the shop perhaps, whoever she was…

Despite it all, Riza had never been happier in that moment.

Right now, he was here with her.

No one else.

That may be the case in the future – and that was okay. Riza could make peace with that, for his sake and his happiness. Her little, budding – but difficult – feelings for her friend would never be voiced or known.

And that was okay.

They’d disappear eventually, Riza was sure. If he found someone, it would be all right. Because in the end, Riza would still have him as a friend. She’d still have him in her life.

And that was enough.

She wasn’t brave enough to lose him.

(Just yet).

It would be too much for him to give up everything for her. Far too much. He had his goals and his dreams, and she was a quiet, lonesome man’s daughter. She had nothing at all to offer, but she could still be his friend. Throughout it all, without fail, she’d offer all the support she had for him to see everything he desired come to fruition.

Yeah…

That would be enough…

Riza supposed.

“Riza?”

“Hm?”

“For the record, the lady in the shop was in her seventies. Nothing to get jealous over.”

Riza whipped around and smacked him on the arm with carrot while he guffawed away to himself.

*             *             *            *             *            *             *

Riza knocked on the Colonel’s door. Hayate whined quietly by her side and sat in place patiently as he waited for his second favourite human to make an appearance.

It was adorable how he’d taken to him.

(Riza understood the feeling.)

“Lieutenant!” Roy’s smile was like a beacon in the dark. It transformed his entire face, and he perked up instantly as soon as he set eyes on her.

Again, Riza understood the feeling.

Intimately.

“Good evening, Colonel.”

He opened the door further and stepped aside, inviting them inside his home. “Come on in.”

Hayate was eager and was already tugging on the lead as he hurried towards the Colonel to jump around his shins.

He was a good dog. He never really bothered or pestered anyone – except her and Roy. As soon as he was around either of them, he begged for attention, eager for pets, and always wanted to be the centre of attention. Every time. He loved them both unconditionally and equally, it seemed.

Riza adored him for it.

Roy chuckled and crouched to pay attention to his adopted little dog while Riza walked inside and shed her coat. Ever the gentlemen, Roy raised from his crouch – much to Hayate’s vocal dismay – and offered to take her coat and hang it up.

“How are you today?”

Always asking after her. Always enquiring how she was doing.

“I’m fine, sir. And thank you for the invite. It was much appreciated, as always.” Riza turned to Hayate who was staring adoringly up at Roy. “Hayate missed you, so I’m sure he was grateful for the opportunity to visit.”

“Just Hayate?”

Riza narrowed her eyes at him, watching as his danced as a smile teased his lips.

“Yes,” she deadpanned.

Roy’s mouth parted in mock shock as he placed a hand upon his chest, over his heart, before breaking out into laughter.

He even stuck his tongue out at her.

Just like he did as a boy.

“Come in.” Roy gestured further into his home. “I know I promised a lovely, relaxing evening,” he winked, “but it seems I’m still having some trouble.”

Riza’s concern for him instantly flared as he lifted his hands, wiggling his fingers and inadvertently brandishing his scarred palms from the Promise Day.

“I could use a hand in the kitchen, if you wouldn’t mind, Lieutenant,” he smiled sheepishly. “I tried already… with disastrous results.”

Riza opened her mouth to reply, only to be halted by a different smile, one which spread across Roy’s face and softened his features entirely. “I thought we could cook together. Just like old times.”

His sweet, boyish smile transported her back through the years, to all the times they’d done this before.

A million times before.

Some of the happiest moments of Riza’s life.

And Riza’s heart tugged at the nostalgia of it all. At how he’d remembered she’d once quietly admitted it was one of her favourite memories of her childhood with him – when they’d worked and cooked together. Provided for themselves and one another. At its basest, given each other the gift of care and sustenance.

And he’d remembered.

Riza rolled up the sleeves of her cardigan. The Colonel’s eyes sparkled with delight at her acceptance.

“Is there anything you need me to do?”

Their age-old question to one another.

Something that was just theirs.

“Why yes, Riza, I do believe there is.”

read on ao3

comments and kudos are always much appreciated!! 🥰🥰

[teruel-a-witch]

i've seen a fair share of fic dealing with amnesia!steve but what about amnesia!danny? i just accidentally wrote this half headcanon-half fic

what if after the adrenaline runs out he actually collapses in steve's arms in 4x19 and when he wakes up the last and only thing he remembers is steve and him confessing their love for each other.

naturally with steve holding a constant vigil by his bedside and being his emergency contact and the one in whose care they release him to after the hospital stay and everyone calling them partners, he assumes they are together together and because of how they are with each other no one notices that that's the conclusion he came to for a while.

when danny first woke up, smiled flirtatiously at steve and said 'hey gorgeous' steve just laughed in relief with barely contained tears and made a crack about danny being really out of it.

then when it turned out danny has temporary amnesia while steve seems to be the only one he feels safe and familiar with, it's only natural that he took danny home after they released him from the hospital. a little selfish part of steve enjoyed that his connection to danny was stronger than melissa's which meant he got to have danny for himself but the bigger part of him just missed his best friend.

it doesn't help that amnesiac!danny dialed up his natural flirtatiousness but steve just explains it away as danny not having his usual inhibitions in check. the doctor said it was important to bring danny home and surround him with comfort and familiarity to speed up his recovery so everything falls away in the face of that.

the one thing that knocks steve off his rocker is when danny comes downstairs one morning and greets him with a peck on the lips before making a beeline for the coffeepot.

'what's wrong?' he asks, concerned at steve's dead stupor.

'why did you just do that?'

'what? kiss my boyfriend? is that not usually how i greet you in the morning? i know you've been careful with me because you didn't want to violate my agency or whatever but this whole physical distance thing isn't exactly going to help us reconnect as a couple.'

as realization hits, steve shakes his head with a sad chuckle, he's used to other people assuming they are a couple but it hurts extra that as an outsider even danny came to that conclusion, just steve's luck that the only circumstances that danny considers that possibility is when he's not himself.

it's danny's turn to be confused. he was so sure. 'but...but... everyone says we are always together and are partners wink-wink, i practically live at your house. plus, i've seen the way you look at me, i know I'm attracted to you and clearly you feel the same, not to mention my clearest memory is you telling me you love me and me returning the sentiment'.

'i don't know what to tell you, danny. we are not a couple.' '

'and why not?'

'because you don't feel that way about me.' steve's voice breaks at the end of that sentence.

danny puts his hand over steve's heart 'except I do, babe.'

steve shakes his head 'you don't mean that, you are not yourself right now. you are just confused'.

'i may be confused about most of things in my life right now, but not my feelings for you. our connection is the only thing that feels real right now, and from the way you don't deny it, i know you feel it too, so what's stopping you?'

'i can't take advantage of you, i care about you too much to do that. please don't look at me like that, I'm not rejecting you.'

danny sniffs 'sure feels like rejection to me.'

as he turns to leave steve grabs his arm 'can we please revisit this topic after you have your memories back?'

'what if they never do?? you just don't want me without them, admit it.'

steve presses their foreheads together 'oh, danny, no, i will always want you. i just need this to be real, please?'

***

the first time danny yells at steve about being a reckless idiot steve knows his danny is back. having a willing and affectionate danny in close proximity and not being able to do anything about it was torture, but not having the partner he knows and loves by his side was so much worse.

'i love you'

danny stops mid rant 'i love you, too'

'despite knowing me so well? really?'

danny puts his arms around steve's neck 'yes. because i know you, it's real.'

and then they kiss, finally. for real.

[multicolour-ink]

I have some much naughtier Mia and Pio Mario fics. Shall I post them? 🤔😰

[goatsandgangsters]

the “I'm just jotting down some bullet points of an idea I'm never going to write” to “I am now writing a fic” pipeline

[fandomsandassortedgoods]

[The display Buzz from the store decides to come back to Andy's house with them. But Buzz isn't jealous. No, not at all. Short short fic, prideyear.]

Not a week after the chain of events that led to Woody being kidnapped, the toys crossing traffic to find him, and a daring plane rescue that nearly failed, the cowboy somehow loses his hat... again.

Buzz doesn't know how he manages to do that--the thing is always on his head, wouldn't he notice right away if it wasn't--but here his friend is yet again, searching every nook and cranny with increasing irritation, if his jerky movements and grumbling under the breath are anything to go by. He's got the two new western toys helping him as well, the cowgirl Jessie and loyal stead Bullseye tearing apart Andy's closet. Multiple socks are flung out in their enthusiasm. Someone will have to be on cleaning duty before Andy gets home.

From his vantage point centre of the room, Buzz takes a look around. Might as well help out. He's deciding between searching under the bed or on the desk when he spots it out of the corner of his eye: a certain hat in the gap between the bookshelf and the floor, hidden in the dark. Of course. Smiling, Buzz starts to walk over.

But then, in a flash of green, purple, and white, another toy races past him to snatch the treasure first. No, not just another toy.

Another him.

He watches dumbstruck as the other Buzz Lightyear, the display model with the utility belt brought back from their adventure, swiftly grabs the hat and rushes over to Woody.

"Your Majesty!" the Buzz proclaims, dropping to one knee. Woody spins around, startled. The space toy holds out the hat with both hands as though presenting a crown, voice thrumming with reverence. "Your headwear, sir."

Woody's face lights up. "My hat! You found it!" He wastes no time securing his trademark hat on his head, turning it to sit just right. The tension noticeably drops off his shoulders. He smiles warmly, clasping a hand on the Buzz's shoulder and giving a friendly shake. "Thanks, Buzz. You're a life saver."

So. Crisis averted. Woody has his hat back. It doesn't matter who found it and gave it to him. It doesn't matter that Buzz was about to save the day, doesn't matter that a different Buzz saves it instead. It doesn't matter that he's not the one to bring joy to Woody's face, not the one who's gifted those warm, relieved eyes, that gratitude through his rich voice, his familiar hand on his shoulder. It doesn't matter that he's always been the one to help Woody, that he's always been the only 'Buzz' Woody means when he says the name until recently. It doesn't matter that this deluded fool swept in to steal Woody's thanks, his attention, even though he's only been here a week, a week, he's been here for years, just who does this guy think he is--

Buzz feels his eye twitch. He shakes his head.

What was all that about?

[astrobei]

wip wfriday to reassure my stonathan mutuals that i have not forgotten about this 🫡

[bookshelf-in-progress]

I am so far behind on the Chesterton Challenge, I have so many stories I want to write, and I am just too tired to write.

[vodka-01]

quick rhaenicent oneshot preview

Rhaenyra’s eyes are black like the night sky, and if Alicent were more foolish, or if she wanted to wax poetically, she would say that they, too, were a dark abyss. One that she frequently sought refuge from in the hallowed caverns of the Sept. Praying in the hopes that the Smith would show her the strength needed to mend her weak heart; that the Maiden would forgive her traitorous lust; that the Mother Above, and all infinite her wisdom, would show mercy upon her damned soul.

Alicent doesn’t trust herself to speak. If she speaks, she might say something ridiculous. The back of her throat bubbles with the need to swear, to scream, to beg, to cry. Instead, she remains steadfast. Sending their sworn shields away along with the Massey girl, Rhaenyra’s lady-in-waiting.

Ser Arryk dutifully leaves without question. Ser Criston on the other hand, hesitates to heed Alicent’s command. Only to nod in affirmation when Rhaenyra gestures for him to leave. It’s okay, I’ll be fine.

As soon as the doors close, and the sound of heavy armor and footsteps shuffling away fades to nothing, Alicent crosses the space between them. Lunging for the heir to the throne. Rhaenyra whimpers when Alicent’s fingers find the fine hairs at the nape of her neck. Tugging them from the root. Rhaenyra squirms as if unsure whether to push into it or try and pull away, but one thing is for certain: she does not attempt to push Alicent’s hand away. Dark eyes swirling, threatening to swallow the queen whole.

[horatiocomehome]

introducing myself to the ISAT fandom is kinda funny bc I've barely even looked through the main tag so far I've just been following people organically from the one person who got me into ISAT and then people in my notifs / on my dash

I joined the main discord and spent about 30 seconds looking through it before muting

I feel like I'm a cat being introduced to a new housemate by letting me sniff it through the door first so I can get used to it before I get fully involved lmaoo

[radio-writes]

I loved it but can we have a non-musical version of When You Walked In, My Time Ran Out?