and through a winter storm to get there

Charles's Bakery (18+)

[note. This is a fan made sequel to @noarthereonlyfat ’s ‘The Dough Girl’.
This piece contains sexual conduct, expansion, weight gain, force-feeding, and immobility.]

Charles’s Bakery..

She walked down the cold, gray streets. Uncertain and unexpected gusts of wind came from all angles sending chills through her whole body. She crossed her arms across her torso, her hood up as she forced through the pounding winds and pouring rain. Of all the days to forget her umbrella she had to choose the biggest storm in the last 10 years. Still, she had to get home. She quickly and clumsily walked down the streets towards the train station she knew was still a good five blocks down the way.
She nearly toppled over, still wearing her black heels from her office job earlier that day. She wore mostly muted tones, blacks and grays. She wore dark pinstripe suit pants that were snug to her modestly curvy thighs. Above that she wore a heavy wool winter jacket, thick enough to hide anybody’s figure, with three big red buttons clasped together. Beneath the beanie she wore a long strand of black hair covered half of her face, a stark contrast to her porcelain white skin. She had a very young and cute face, couldn’t have been any older than 22. Despite the stylish outfit, her very square glasses looked straight out of a 2011 geeky phase.

As she continued to walk through the storm, ahead of her a power line slumped over crashing into a light post. She stopped in her tracks and let out a small shriek. Glass tinged to the ground below, metal shrapnel clattering on top of a parked car setting off the alarm. The next few blocks went dark one after the other as the power surged out. It was completely silent apart from the rain and howling wind. The girl looked around her, alone in a blacked out part of town she’d never been to before. The only source of light left was a neon open sign flashing across the street. The last building receiving any power. It was a small shop, surrounding the entrance were metal scaffoldings covered in tarps with a black and white sign reading “Under Construction”. The soft yellow lights were on inside, shining out onto the wet streets. The sign above the shop read “Charles’ Treats!” in big outdated lettering.

She weighed her options, biting her thumb. She had made up her mind and quickly jay-walked across the street in between two taxis that were stopped due to the accident up ahead. She made it underneath the cover of the scaffolding, and was about to push the door open when loud thunder rolled in overhead followed by the crack of lightning. She jumped and squealed again, covering her ears with her hands. When the startling sound had faded she opened her eyes and looked up once more. Stood before her was a tall figure in the doorway.

“Horrible weather to be stuck in, ain’t it?!” Yelled the man over the howling winds. She looked up to his face, which was cast in shadow by the lights coming from inside.

“Come inside, won’t you?” He asked kindly, outstretching his hand to the girl. She looked him up and down, before showing a small smile and timidly grabbing his hand. The man lead her in, holding the door for her as she stepped past him. It was a quaint little cafe. A big glass display that serves as an ordering counter to the left side of the room, a hallway behind the cash register that lead to the kitchen. To her left and right were metal tables and chairs, the floor an old-fashioned black and white tiling. There was a dark hallway at the back right of the store that lead to the bathrooms, a water fountain, and two swinging doors that read “EMPLOYEES ONLY, UNDER CONSTRUCTION”. She paid no mind to it. But what she did pay attention to were the revolving displays on the counter filled with various desserts. Her eyes locked onto a slice of chocolate cake, with what she assumed was strawberry glaze on top.

“You’re lucky I’m here huh? I heard the pole fall over a few minutes ago, sounded terrible. I’m glad you’re alright!” Said the man warmly, with a polite smile. He wore a white apron covered in various ingredients from throughout the day. He had salt and pepper hair, and a handsome face beneath a well-trimmed black beard. He was wearing a tight gray short sleeve shirt beneath his apron, and skinny jeans tucked into a pair of brown hiking boots.

“Name’s Charles, owner of Charles’ treats which is the fine establishment you’re standing in now.” He smiled with his hand outstretched once again.

“Uh,..Jennifer..Jenny for short” She said quietly, smiled awkwardly, and shook his hand loosely.

“I’m just glad you’re still open. Not many small bakeries stay open until nine in this area.” She said looking around at the paintings hung up on the wall. Charles’ eyes widened as he quickly jogged over to the wall, standing conveniently in front of the list of weekly hours that read ‘9:00am-4:30pm’.

“Yeah, hehe, you know…never too late for a slice of cake.” He laughed.
The trail of moving air he left behind him had a strong and enticing scent of butter. Jennifer closed her eyes, and uncontrollably leaned forward taking in a long whiff before regaining her composure.

“Well, your baking sure does smell amazing.” She said.

“Speaking of!” He replied excitedly. He walked down the corridor behind the counter and returned with a metal tray of small squares of layered cake on little doilies. Jenny immediately noticed the very same cake she had been eyeballing in the display, chocolate with a strawberry glaze.

“Would you mind testing some of these new treats I’ve been working on?” He asked as he set the tray down on the metal table.

“Oh..Oh, no no no I shouldn’t. I wouldn’t want to eat anything I haven’t paid for.” She said indignantly, still staring at the cakes.

“No, please. Free of charge. I just really need some feedback.” He said, somewhat sternly while staring directly into her eyes. She stood there, thinking about it for a few moments.

“Well, if you insist.” She giggled walking over to the table. She took off her messenger bag and set it down on the ground.

“You know you can make yourself comfortable, we have a coat rack right there for days just like this.” Charles said

“Right, good idea. No point in standing around in a soaking wet jacket.” Jenny replied. She began unbuttoning her heavy coat before turning around and walking towards the coat hanger. Charles watched her walk away, her hips swaying from side to side. The view of her form fitting pants was more than enjoyable. Jenny removed the Jacket quickly, her white dress shirt beneath rising slightly. Charles got a quick glimpse of her soft pale belly jiggle as she rose on her tippy toes to hang up the coat. She removed her beanie, letting her long black hair tumble down her back. Charles bit his lip and looked up to the ceiling mouthing the words “Thank you, god.”
She turned around, walking back to Charles bouncing for a moment before fixating back onto the cakes.

“So, which one should I start with? They all look so good.” She said as she sat down into her chair, scooting her chair in farther by bouncing. Charles noticed her cleavage peeking over the top unbuttoned button of her shirt.

“Yes, of course. I think you should start with the chocolate one there. It’s my new recipe I’m trying out. I think you’ll love it.” Charles said suggestively. Jenny didn’t notice the tone in his voice, she was too distracted by the array of treats before her. She lifted the doily into her palm, her purple painted fingers delicately scraping off some of the strawberry glaze before pushing the finger past her plump limps into her mouth.

“Wow, that’s amazing.” She muttered. She took a bite out of the cake and chewed for a moment before the sensation hit her tongue. The same smell from before, only now it was an even more intense taste. She swallowed the heavenly treat, the best she had ever tasted.

“Oh my god..” She whispered, goose bumps travelling up her arms.
“I never thought that chocolate and-”
“Butter?” interrupted Charles.
“Yes! Chocolate and Strawberry with that lovely Butter taste. That last taste really ties it all together.” She said excitedly, her eyes wide as she went in for another not-so lady like bite.
She scarfed down the whole thing before licking the doily clean of any chocolate remnants. She let out a small burp before leaning back in her chair, a small indentation of her belly button making itself visible against the white fabric of her dress shirt. Charles couldn’t stand it any longer.

“Try this one here, I think you’ll find it’s tastes even more tantalizing.” He said pushing the yellow cake with white frosting towards her. She looked it up and down and back to his eyes before she said

“No, I sh-” She suddenly stopped. She could smell the strong scent of butter emanating off of the cake. She grabbed it from his hands and instantly took a bite. All ideas of manners she had flew out the window once she smelt it. Her eyes rolled to the back of her head in pleasure as she continued to chew. Charles stood back, it was working just like he knew it would. He went to the kitchen and grabbed a room temperature pot of coffee off the counter and poured it into the mug. He walked over to her, the mug in his right hand before pretending to trip. He dumped the mug of lukewarm coffee onto her white shirt.

“Oh my god! Jenny! I’m so sorry!” He said, with a not so convincing fear. He quickly grabbed the towel in his pocket just like he planned and began soaking up the coffee around the table. Jenny sat there, cake puffing out her cheeks looking down at her ruined shirt. She set the cake down and began unbuttoning her shirt, still chewing while her eyes fixated on the cake on the table. She ripped the shirt off and tossed it to the ground, now she sat there in her thin purple tank top. She quickly grabbed the cake from the table again and began eating. Charles smiled smugly, grabbing the mug and taking it away. He pushed the tray closer to her and stepped back. He eyed her up and down. Her thick thighs were pressing against her pinstripe pants, the purple tank top she was wearing showed her pudgy belly off perfectly along with her large perky tits pushing out. She couldn’t care less about how she was dressed.

She continued to pig out, shoving cake after cake into her face. Over the course of about 5 minute she had cleared half the tray. Charles stood back watching her belly extend outwards by about an inch or two while she continued to stuff it. He watched her act just like the fattie he wanted her to, stuffing her face like an animal. Her tank top lifted at the bottom, exposing a bit of her pale stomach. Her bra became more and more visible as the tank top began to fit her less and less. Once she had finished the tray, she sat there catching her breath. She couldn’t believe that she ate all those cakes, in front of a man she met no more than 10 minutes ago. But the euphoria she felt from the dessert was still lingering. Charles opened the display on the counter and set down a full cake of the chocolate and strawberry glaze, the very same one she was eyeing from before. Charles walked over and clicked off the ‘Open’ sign in the window and locked the front door.

“Now now hold on, this one’s extra special.” He said as he grabbed the cake from her taking it to the counter. Her eyes followed it like a dog looking at a treat. He went to the kitchen and grabbed the warm pot of glaze, but not before grabbing a vial of golden liquid and pouring the whole thing in. As he walked out of the kitchen with the steaming glaze, Jenny perked up as she recognized the smell. He carefully cut one slice off the cake and put on a plate and poured the glaze over top of it. Jenny was salivating watching it pour, her eyes wide as could be. He walked over and handed her a fork. She cut a careful square off the cake and placed it into her mouth. Instant euphoria ran over her body once it touched her tongue. She let out a small moan as she chewed, her knuckles white as she crossed her feet in pleasure. She didn’t hesitate before finishing the rest of the slice and swallowing the masterpiece. Charles jogged over to the once dark hallway and flicked on the lights, unlocking the two swinging double doors. He returned to her.

“So, what did you think?” He asked pleasantly.

“It..It was incredible. I can’t bel-” She cut herself off. A loud gurgling came from her stomach. Jenny looked down to her belly, a lot pudgier than she remember it being when she got there. She placed both of her hands on the sides of her distended belly. Charles came from behind her and grabbed the chair, pulling her out from the table into the center of the room. The gurgling continued to grow louder. Jenny was puzzled as she felt the sides of her belly with her hands and stroked her thighs, entirely entranced by her body. Charles wheeled over an extra large leather office chair without armrests.

“Do me a favor and sit in this won’t you, Jenny?” He asked.

“H-Hey, what’s going on here” Jenny asked as she stood up from the chair. Charles held a small hershey’s kiss in his palm, the scent of butter rose through the air.

“Sit won’t you?” He asked in a stern tone.
Her eyes focused, and she waddled towards the chair taking a seat as he handed her the chocolate. She tossed it into her mouth and was met with the familiar euphoria, only intensified. She swallowed.
The gurgling in her stomach stopped entirely, met instead with silence. She suddenly felt the waistline around her pants grow uncomfortably tight. She tugged on the pockets, trying to pull her pants down to make them more comfortable. It was the she noticed it. Her belly was slowly rising. Her tank top began to pull further down as her midsection grew rounder and rounder. Her cleavage was more and more exposed as her tits began to balloon up slowly matching the speed of her tummy. She placed her hands on her belly, feeling it press out against her palms. She lead her hands down to her thighs which she felt rise and grow closer and closer together. Her breathing quickened in a panic. Her tank top straps began to groan as her tank top was simultaneously pulled down and stretched outwards. Her belly button was exposed, showing her fat round belly. The fat around her arms began to grow, making them thicker and thicker, working the way down to her hands. Her pants began to rip around her thighs, a loud sound of seams snapping. She kicked off her heels in a panic and began to worm around in her seat unsure of what was happening to her. A ripping sound came from the straps of her tank top as they fell around her. Her midsection that was blowing up like a balloon stretched it to it’s limit before it fell to tatters off her. She sat there only in her bra and what was left of her pants, growing fatter and fatter. Her waistline snapped, her pants slipping off of her growing body. Her stomach gurgled, her bra stretching and barely containing her giant breasts. She sat there ashamed, barely clothed by her panties and bra.

“Wh-Wha?!” She murmured, feeling her big fat body with her chubby fingers.

“You’ve been a real pig today, Jenny.” Charles said teasingly as he walked behind her.
“It’s only fitting you be treated like one.” He whispered in her ear as he pushed her towards the swinging doors. She was being wheeled through the hallway, covered in tarps and construction lights. Before finally they were in a large open room. It was as big as a gymnasium, and was entirely carpeted and covered with rose petals. But the biggest addition to the room was a large pink mass in the middle of the room. It was maybe 8 feet tall and nearly spherical. It was surrounded with wrappers and crumbs from foods. The mass was well oiled/shiny and looked visibly soft.
A sudden realization hit Jenny, and she was horrified. She began to struggle in the chair but was trapped by her own weight.
“No! NO!” She grunted through her teeth as she tried to move. Charles continued to wheel her towards the mass.

“Kristy? I have a new addition to the family..” Said Charles sensually.

“Oh, wonderful!” Yelled out a high pitched feminine voice excitedly. The mass began to wiggle from side to side. Jenny passed out then and there..

When She came to she was laying on her back against the carpet and looking up to the ceiling.
“Wh-Where am I? What’s going on?!” She yelled out as she struggled to move. Suddenly a chocolate fell from above and fell into her open mouth and down her throat.

“What the hell?!” She coughed.
A figure jogged past her and out of sight. Suddenly the gurgling sound returned from her fat stomach. An expression of fear appeared on her face as she lifted her head to look at her body.She could barely see over her mound of a stomach. She saw the flesh of her belly slowly begin to rise.
“N-no stop!” She cried out.
Her belly continued to jiggle and expand, growing fatter and fatter. Her bra snapped from her growing tits. leaving her entirely naked. Her body groaned and gurgled as she grew fatter and more gluttonous.
She saw Charles walking towards her with a device on wheels.
“Now you see Jenny, I’ve been watching you for a few weeks now.” Charles said as he struggled to get the device over the carpet.
“please stop it” she cried in-between moans.

“I noticed you began to take the same commute home every day, directly past my cafe. I saw your delightfully chubby frame stride down the streets and I knew I had to have you.” He said as he came into her vision to her left side.

“Have me?! What are you talking about?!” She yelled out frustratedly.

“Trust him! You won’t regret it!You’re gonna be so big afterwards ” teased a cheery voice off to her left, who she could only identify as Kristy. A large fat naked pink mass laid there immobile, her head and blonde hair stature a top the fat ball. What had he done to her? How did she get so huge? And how could she be okay with being a giant fat cow? All of these thoughts raced through her head.

“Getting you in here was the hard part, and now…Now this is the easiest part of all.” He smirked. A rubber tube with a silicon mask at the end of it was in his hands, and he slowly lowered it to her face. She had no power to defy him and no way to fight back. He secured the tube into her mouth and strapped the mask to the back of her head.

“Just let it happen, trust me. It’s amazing.” Said Kristy.

“Mmmm! Mmmmmph!” Jenny attempted to yell as she wiggled her feet and hands in defiance. Charles placed his hand onto Jenny’s belly and slowly began to massage it. With his other hand he nonchalantly flipped a switch as a golden liquid travelled up the clear tube and to the silicon mask. Jenny’s eyes crossed as she tried to follow the liquid, and suddenly the taste hit her mouth. It was direct from the source, making it incredibly intense, almost orgasmic. She instinctively began to swallow. She thought she was full before, but her body knew no difference and began to chug the liquid. Charles grabbed a squirt bottle from his side and squirted the same liquid into his hands before he climbed atop Jenny’s body. Her eyes widened as she looked at him.

“Mmmmph!” She tried to yell. He began to massage the liquid directly into her skin until she was shiny and oiled. His erection pressed deep into her soft belly. The action of her swallowing made her body jiggle back and forth like calm waves on a shore. She began to rise again as she felt the sensation from before. Her body began to gurgle and groan. She watched as her body began to expand once more, growing fatter and fatter. Her tits were soon to follow, growing larger and rounder keeping up with the pace of her belly and thighs. Charles rose more and more into the air as she inflated. She felt a pleasurable sensation down by her pussy as waves of pleasure ran up her body. Through the mask she still managed to moan loudly as she was turned into a fat blimp. She grew hornier and hornier, the feeling of herself expanding was like nothing she’d felt before.
Jenny continued to blow up as Charles rocked back and forth on top of her. She crossed her feet as her pussy became wet and sensitive, the liquid running down her fat body.
To her left she heard groaning and moaning coming from Kristy. She had the same tube in her mouth as she grew even more round, her hands flapping happily. Kristy grew and grew fatter and fatter. She sobbed to herself before pleasure took over. She was cumming, she couldn’t believe it. The pleasure rushed to her head combining with the euphoria of the liquid. She let go, a smile on her face as she stared up to the ceiling feeling her body expand widen and inflate. It was amazing. Charles climbed down as Kristy’s growing slowed to a stop.

“How do you feel now?” Smiled Charles.

Jenny looked up to him panting and sweating, catching her breath.

“…..more..” She said intensely, a devious smile on her face.

A New Member of the Family.

– Inflation Patron

[huge shootout to @noarthereonlyfat
, follow him on all his pages. I hope my piece held a light to his.]

Snow Days - Part 1

Genre: fluff/angst, highschool!au

Pairing: reader/jungkook

Length: 3.2k

Summary: Although you’d been warned about the snowstorm that would affect your area, you decided to go to school anyway. Several hours later, you were trapped in the library, the weather too severe to go outside. Fortunately, you had your headphones so you could listen to your favourite artist: a boy who went by the name JK. Unfortunately, you were stuck with the new transfer student, Jungkook, who was a right pain in the ass.

A/N: if you’ve read my other stuff, you might be thinking ‘another school au???’ and all I can say is yes I’m totally not sorry they’re loads of fun to write
also I base all of them off the korean high school that I went to not officially but that’s another story so obviously they do things very differently to american high schools, so hopefully it still feels realistic for you!! especially as I have no idea what american high schools are like
p.s. the title is for a really lame joke i’ll make later

01 02 03 04 05 06 07 08 [End]

The cold air blew up your shirt as you waited for the bus, sending a shudder up and down your spine. You bounced a little on your toes, hoping the movement would keep the blood flowing as your breath rose in clouds. The snow that covered the ground was old, but news stations everywhere had been forecasting heavy snow on the way, so you decided to brave the public transport while it was still running.

The tip of your nose stung slightly as you sniffed, but you didn’t want to take your hands out of your pockets to blow it. You’d been trying to keep in as much heat as possible since you left the house, so you continued to sniff miserably until the bus arrived. Clambering on, you made sure to sit next to one of the heaters at the side, the metal way too hot to rest against for long period of time, but you were willing to burn off your skin at that point. It’d been a harsh winter, and you were sick of the cold.

Finally warming up as the bus trundled down the road in the direction of your school, you eventually blew your nose and took out your phone to put some music on. Over the winter break, a music app called Quaver had grown in popularity, and become the best source for musicians to get out their music. Swept up in the hype, you downloaded the app and went searching for soft ballads to help you sleep through the sounds of winds and storms, and you’d come across a singer called JK. His voice was soft yet mystical, and every time you closed your eyes you could picture yourself standing next to a frozen lake with a warm fire at your feet. It was enchanting. You hadn’t stopped listening to him since.

Keep reading

natasha is cursive on cold white paper, soft hands resting on thighs, clean sheets of snow, clothing hanging outside, gentle laughter between friends, fancy mirrors hanging in long hallways, rings on dainty hands, handwritten journals neatly tucked away, private libraries with tall open windows, snowy hills, that first cold breath of snow and winter

sonya is fiddling with your hands, candles lighting an empty house, long braids pinned up in various ways, the faint smell of apples and cinnamon drifting upstairs, fireplaces being lit during the depths of winter, running fingers over stone and brick, books piling up on beds, worn lounging sofas

marya is classical music being blasted at 2 am, waking up extremely early to catch the sun rising, red lipstick being left on coffee mugs, shoes lined up in the closet, comfy sweaters, wild friday nights, black faux fur with white gloves, long car trips narrated by a favorite book, spending sunday cleaning the house

anatole is wild partying on saturday nights, best friends collecting around a table, long couches with more than three seats, rings on every surface in the house from drinks, shining shoes, sleeping in until 2 pm, glueing your fingers together and peeling it off afterwards, playing an instrument with all the windows opan

hélène is sleeping on your stomach, plain white sheets and subtle green pillows, window seats on a hot summer day, small banter at the bar, waking up in the bathtub after a wild night, messy rooms and unmade beds, a small one bedroom apartment in the city, lots of pearls laying out over a dresser

dolokhov is quiet in the house on a tuesday night, the stars being hidden by a stormy night, a flash of lightning, organised closets with belts hanging out of every drawer, an outfit being laid out the night before, eating soup when you’re sick, rolling up socks on a chilly day, dipping a peanut butter sandwich into some chicken noodle soup

mary is overalls and striped t-shirts, random sayings on old shirts, macaroni and cheese all by yourself, tall socks, wearing lots of buttons, packing your lunch the night before, losing yourself in the rain, tall thoughts in the shower, wool comforters at the foot of a bed, leaving a door open so animals can come and go

prince bolkonsky is aggressive advertisement along busy highways, read plants sitting along a windowsill, long forgotten memories, long coats in winter, gray walls in a gloomy house, vintage chairs with tall backs, accidentally torn pants hanging around the house, sitting in an armchair at ungodly hours

balaga is ordering room service without shame, forgetting your cellphone everywhere you go, failing to cook and ordering pizza instead, clothes hanging on the balcony, speeding down an open road, warm boots on a cold winter night, headlights in the distance, sitting in a drive through with all your friends

andrei is not understanding a lesson in class, being dropped off at your house after spending the night elsewhere, blankets hanging on chairs, randomly hanging pictures around the house, owning tons of jewelry but never wearing any of it, naming your plants, doing research and getting stuck in a wikipedia hole, writer’s block on a rainy day

pierre is long nights spent awake, opening the window during the winter, sitting in an armchair and staring at the wall, limbs falling asleep, a numb nose during a winter storm, long faux fur coats, scrolling through twitter, closing the curtains after a long day, watching the clock at the end of the day

the great comet is myself, natasha, sonya, marya, anatole, hélène, dolokhov, mary, bolkonsky, balaga, andrei, pierre, a longing desire, a lost soul, wishful thinking, the end of the world.

I know you want to fall in love but you are scared of falling once again. I know you find it difficult to trust the words and actions of people you meet but it wasn’t your fault that it didn’t work out, that people failed you. I know it’s difficult for you to hand over your heart to someone and live in fear of them falling you once again but this is how you find the kind of love you deserve. You go through storms and drown in ocean you fall for wrong people and you get your heart broken before you find someone who comforts your fears and calms your chaos. It’s after you have been through the hell that you find someone who has the warmth of a summer sun on a freezing winter night

Prince Adam Headcanons

Yeah I just physically couldn’t. stop. myself…

Word Count: um…a lot. I might as well take out the dots and make it an imagine bc LOL I GOT A LIL CARRIED AWAY HERE

A/N: yes, I’m still working on my Gaston series, but while I’m writing that, here *dumps fanfic in ur lap* have these post-curse headcanons that I thought up at 4:00am of the purest most adorably precious cinnamon roll prince ever

Originally posted by imanewrevival


  •  Prince Adam still literally unable to wrap his mind around the fact, even weeks after the curse is broken, that someone could find it in them to love him in his darkest and most hopeless of times
  •   Adam, not surprisingly, suffering from post-curse nightmares. He’ll dream that he’s once again the vain, cruel prince who turned away the rose, and wake with hands clutching at his chest and face to make sure that they’re not animalistic and covered with fur again
  •  on nights when the dreams are particularly bad, he’ll wake you and you’ll stay up till dawn comforting him, his head on your chest or in your lap while you whisper soothing words and brush your hand through his hair
  • sometimes you’ll snuggle into him and place your cheek on his shoulder, bringing your fingers up to his face and tracing his cheekbones, his eyebrows, and his jawline with soft strokes to remind him that his features are human again, and always will be
  • Adam catches your hand and gently presses his lips against your fingertips, his eyes closing and his forehead furrowing before kissing your palm. When his eyelids open, his gaze locks on yours and you almost can’t breathe for the amount of love in his stunning blue irises that shine like moonbeams
  • eventually lulling him back to sleep by singing or reading softly, admiring the peacefulness of his expression as he dozes, marveling at how truly lucky you are to love someone so beautiful and pure and to have his love in return
  • having literally the most perfect and healthy relationship ever. Seriously, the two of you are the stuff of romance novels (the happy ones that aren’t all dramatic and angsty). You can practically read each others’ minds, which really comes in handy when trying to find each other new books to read. You know everything about each other. How you like your tea, what position you find most comfortable to sleep in, your favorite author, your favorite composer, even what things you find annoying or frustrating
  • One more time now: RELATIONSHIP GOALS
  • being able to match Adam’s mischievous side with your own. Don’t get me started on snowball fights during the winter seasons which always leave you soaked to the bone (much to Mrs. Potts’ amused dismay when you leave puddles through the halls and on the stairs) and grinning like idiots. Mud fights are frequent during the summer as well (poor Mrs. Potts indeed). You never miss a chance to enjoy the fresh scent of rain after a summer storm, so you head out with Adam to enjoy the dewy gardens…then come back looking like you bathed in a swamp
  • just. imagine. tho. You’ll be sitting on a bench glossing over a book, or breathing in the crisp warm air when all the sudden you glance up and see Adam looking at you from a few feet away, his lips upturned in a smirk and his gaze peering through his eyelashes. He slowly brings one hand around from behind his back and you see a ball of sticky brown mud oozing between his fingers. You barely have time to growl, “Don’t you even think about it.” before it smacks you in the face, instantly dribbling down your neck and shoulders. Adam’s deep laugh bounces off the statues before it’s cut off by the sound of mud splattering against the back of his head. Total chaos ensues, and the cleaning staff shares a collective sigh as the sound of hysterical laughter from the gardens meets their ears
  • fervent apologizing on both your parts to the gardeners afterwards
  • kisses. Jesus, Mary, Joseph and the camel, the k i s s e s. Kisses that stop time. Kisses that make the ground spin under your feet, or sometimes even make the ground disappear completely. Standing with your toes touching as Adam brings both hands to the sides of your face, dips his head and kisses you with such deep, slow passion that you forget who’s air you’re breathing, or you forget to breathe entirely. Gathering the fabric of his shirt in your hands and standing on your toes to be even closer to him. He brushes his thumbs across your cheeks, and when you finally break apart, you can’t move or draw oxygen for several seconds after. In these moments, if he were to ask you the sum of 2 + 2, you would only be able to answer with his name
  • waking up to feeling the feather-light touch of his lips against the side of your neck, along your jaw and on your cheek, unable to conceal the shudders that ripple along your skin or the butterflies that fluster uncontrollably around your stomach. Feeling him smile against your shoulder when he runs his hand along your arm and feels the goosebumps that his actions have caused, asking in a deep, husky morning voice if you’re cold or if there’s some other reason for the reaction. You sit up and stuff a pillow in his face
  • he’s not the only one who uses affection to rouse the other from sleep. Before the break of dawn, you’ll wrap your arm around his torso and lightly trail kisses across his features. On each of his closed eyelids, his nose, his cheeks, the corner of is mouth until the arm that he has around your shoulders tightens and pulls you against him, his lips spreading in a drowsy smile. After he’s awakened, you wrap yourself in blankets and lead him by the hand through the silent castle until you reach the tallest tower. There you stand in his arms, his lips pressed to the top of your head as the two of you watch the sun rise over the distant hills and flood the skies with pale pink light
  • spontaneous dances. This is 100% a thing. Imagine standing in the library at one of the tables, alphabetizing a stack of volumes when Adam’s arms wind around your waist and his firm chest presses to your back. “Do you hear that?” he’ll ask softly, prompting you to grin as you hear Cadenza’s playing a few rooms away. Before you know it your swaying to the sweet rhythm, then Adam’s twirling you across the floor, lifting you into effortless spins and dipping you nearly to the floor, making laughter flow from your lips
  • making faces at each other from across the diner table
  • holding balls and dances at least once a month to stay connected with the rest of Villenueve, and even though Adam is supposed to be socializing, he can’t help staring at you practically the entire night
  • Plumette helping you get ready for said parties, lacing up your dress and fastening back rebellious strands of hair when Adam appears in the doorway, his eyes widening in loving disbelief at your astounding beauty, which of course makes your face turn the color of a ripe pomegranate. Plumette smiles, her hands on your shoulders as she says, “Isn’t she a vision, my prince?” Adam’s shakes himself from his stupor and responds, “One almost too beautiful to behold.”
  • your face reddens ten shades
  • pet names. And lots of them, though mainly “love” and “my darling”

      • “(Y/N), I’m not wearing that.”  

      “Oh come on, it’ll look wonderful.”

      “It will look ridiculous.”

     “But Lumiere looks so dashing in them, I don’t see why you wouldn’t.”

      “(Y/N), it’s got bloody bows in it.”

     “It makes it look more fashionable. Now just try it on!”

     “I’d rather be a beast again.”

     “Oh honestly, it’s just a wig.”

     “Take one more step and I’ll throw that thing in the fire.”

  • the staff of the castle may as well be payed family members. Plumette is of course your best friend, Adam’s being Lumiere. Mrs. Potts is a second mother to you, and Cogsworth is always overjoyed to play the part of the father figure. Maestro Cadenza and Madame Garderobe took you under their musical wings as soon as the curse was broken, and you can never go through a conversation with either of them without being called “my dear” or “darling” at least five times. Your closest bond however is with Chip, and often you’ll glimpse Adam sitting with the young boy on his lap as well, exploring the surface of an atlas or looking at old maps
  • Adam being brilliant with children, despite thinking that he’s not. Sometimes he’ll watch you interacting with Chip and find himself wondering what it would be like to start a family of your own someday, not noticing the soft smile that graces his lips at the thought of it
  • going on adventures together. Not major ones necessarily, but even small journeys through the nearby mountains and forests are enough to mostly quench your wanderlust. You’ll often drag him to the top of a hill that overlooks Villeneuve and the surrounding countryside, standing with hands linked as the wind rushes over you
  • returning from such journeys to the warm castle, Mrs. Potts setting out tea by the fireplace, and you curling up against Adam by the huge marble hearth, practically on his lap with your face buried in his thick, smooth hair. Your fingers absentmindedly play with the laces of his shirt, his heartbeat echoing smooth and steady against your chest. Adam draws you closer as the warmth of the crackling fire surrounds you in a drowsy haze, pressing his lips to your forehead and murmuring a tender, “I love you.” to which you smile and tilt your head up to meet his eyes. “And I love you. For evermore.” His smile makes your heart swell to the point where it aches with happiness. “For evermore,” he replies.

uuugghhhhhh save meh plz

Info for HNKNA / Alice in the Country of Hearts / Clover / Diamond Rpers, fans, and anyone else who feels like it.

Just a little something I felt like putting together since there’s so much information out there that not a lot of people have access to and people like me, Harroe and Vocaotome, know far too much for our own good. So why not put it to good use? 

Warning this is RIDICULOUSLY LONG but has info on just about every aspect of Wonderland and Roleholder possible. Feel free to ask for clarification or send me asks with more info.

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Captive: Dark!Soldier76 x Reader Ch. 1

Hey guys, so some of you may already have known this but I’ve been working on a much longer fanfic involving a blizzard, some stockhom syndrome and a delightfully Dark!Jack.. But anyway, here’s the first chapter - I’ll be uploading the second very soon

 https://archiveofourown.org/works/12344526/chapters/28075872

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FMA AU Week: Day 3 - Theme H: AU where everything's the same but...

Here’s my Briggs au, in which Riza ends up in Briggs with Olivier instead of the East with Roy! Thanks to @gomboc123, @the-flame-and-hawks-eye and @queenxolivier for listening me talk about it. Riza is a lot sassier to Roy because he isn’t her commanding officer and Olivier encourages it. I tried not to make this too Royai-y, but it could be implied? Also Riza is buffer and stronger because she was trained to fight a bear like everyone else in Briggs. Anyways! I hope you all enjoy it!

——

Riza had known Briggs was not going to be an easy post, and even dreaded going there, having been assigned right after the Ishvalan War, but she hadn’t expected it to be so unfathomable. If she had thought Ishval was the most unbearable place on Earth, Briggs immediately proved her wrong.

She realizes soon that she’s one of the only women soldiers there, despite the leader being a legendary woman soldier herself, not much older than Riza, and one of the only Ishval veterans. Riza had heard stories about her from various soldiers in Ishval, that she was an immovable force stronger than the mountain and wall itself, that she had no mercy for anyone, that everyone was trained like dogs to be efficient and ruthless soldiers that worked as one cohesive unit. When Riza got her post assigned, Rebecca whistled and shook her head. “I hope you get out of there alive,” she said, and patted her on the shoulder.

Riza has always been able to adapt to certain situations, and she had been hardened by the war, so the rigorous training she went through didn’t scare her half as much as it frightened the younger soldiers who had never been through anything truly terrifying and tough. Even though Riza goes to bed sore most nights, and is pushed past what she thought were her limits, she finds that she starts to like it in Briggs.

There’s a sort of camaraderie in the fort. Living so far up in the North and in the mountains brings everyone closer together. Riza realizes that when everyone isn’t in combat or working on engineering, they all have a close bond with each other due to their shared experience of hard work and grit. She even becomes close to two of Brigadier General Armstrong’s right hand men, who seem intimidating at first but are understanding and kind in their own ways. She’s never worked harder in her entire life while at Briggs, and she gains valuable friendships as well as a better physique due to carrying around rifles and pushing cannons while trying to keep spies away and Drachma at bay.

After training, Riza’s assigned to work as a ssniper, guarding one half of the fort with another sniper as the other half is guarded by two more. The Brigadier General had realized her potential and decided she was perfect for the post, so Riza spends most of her days trying to get over the cold and harsh wind that comes from Drachma across the border. She gets used to her face becoming red from the biting wind and thinking about anything but how much she was freezing. She spends the time talking to her buddy who’s facing the other way, towards Amestris, and they grow to become good acquaintances.

Olivier doesn’t really notice her until Drachma tries to invade in the winter, after a huge blizzard.

Riza hears a gunshot pass by her head, and when she turns, the soldier she had gotten friendly with is falling from the fort, blood flowing from his head as he crashes down to the ground. Before she can react, another gun goes off, and she ducks before the bullet meant for her can strike her. She has to act fast, so she lays on her belly and tries to ignore the fact that there is blood on her pants now as she takes out four Drachman spies, the rest of them coming in a storm after them. She has to alert General Armstrong, if she doesn’t already know; Riza scampers down from the watchtower to rush into Fort Briggs, probably looking like a madman with the way she runs into the building.

Everyone is staring at her, so she takes her chance and yells as loudly as possible, “There are Drachman spies coming for us! Their military is possibly behind them!”

This sends everyone into an organized frenzy, many of them rushing to get their weapons and some of them running to the top of the fort to adjust the cannons. It takes a moment for Olivier to reach her, with the Lieutenant Buccaneer following close behind. “How long have they been there?”

“Just a few minutes. They shot the man next to me and I was close to being shot myself. I had to kill off four of them on my own before the soldiers in the tower next to us realized what was happening.” Riza realizes that she’s out of breath, so she has to calm herself down so she doesn’t seem like a total lunatic.

“I have no clue why they would invade now, especially because of how we’re trained to fight in the winter,” Buccaneer says.

“They were trying to do a surprise attack. The blizzard that came through made us lower our defenses, because we thought they’d be just as defenseless as we were,” Riza reasons. “It was bad out there. They probably started to make their way here before the storm, but saw the storm as a chance to get us when we let our guards down.”

After a short beat of silence, Olivier turns to the troops still inside the fort and yells out orders. “Don’t give them another chance to attack! Give it all you’ve got until we’ve gotten rid of every last one of them!”

Everyone salutes her and makes their way to their stations, and Olivier turns to Riza again, who immediately stands at attention after having relaxed for a second. “Come with me. I’ll need your eyes to spot any other spies who try to infiltrate Briggs.”

Riza is surprised for a moment, but eventually salutes her. “Sir.”

They end up being able to fight off Drachma, who retreat when they realize yet again that they’re no match for the Briggs soldiers. Riza had proven herself by shooting soldiers from high above with complete precision, and even in the throes of battle she kept a cool head and performed her job spectacularly. She even ordered some of the newer privates to man a cannon or grab a gun, and they respected her, even if she was only a Second Lieutenant. Her reputation as the Hawk’s Eye led most of the soldiers to listen to and respect her, because she had been in the War and made it out alive.

It starts slow, but Riza begins to notice Olivier taking interest in her after the failed invasion. She had commended Riza for staying alive long enough to alert the rest of her troops, which ultimately led to their success. Riza was humble and insisted that they would have found out, but her Captain, Miles, insists that had she not thought to tell everyone and instead tried to fend off the soldiers and spies herself, she would have died along with the other snipers. Riza writes it off as just instincts, but she learns to take a compliment from Olivier Armstrong, because she doesn’t hand them out freely.

A few soldiers who want to perfect their shooting technique ask Riza to help train them, and all approach her with some sort of reverence, like they shouldn’t be talking to her at all. Of course, Riza agrees, and they take time out of their busy schedules to go down to the shooting range so she can teach them. Soon, whenever she goes to the range, the soldiers of all different ranks and skill sets around them end up gathering in a circle around her as she explains the mechanics of different guns and ways to make their aim near perfect. All of the soldiers who learn from her find their marksmanship to steadily improve under her instruction. Beyond that, they all grow to be good friends over the fact that none of them are good at shooting, at least not as good as Riza – and she reminds them with a smile that she had to practice to get where she is today. Olivier takes notice, especially because the soldiers who get Riza’s help with their aim are soldiers who had decent to awful aim previously.

When Riza is getting ready for the day one morning, she gets a knock at the door and opens it to find Miles standing on the other side. “The Brigadier General wants to see you.”


They make short conversation on the way to the office, and although Riza knows she hasn’t done anything wrong, there is still a small feeling of dread underneath her skin. Olivier is sitting at her desk, her hands folded and she doesn’t gesture for Riza to sit. So, Riza salutes her in front of her desk.

“At ease, Second Lieutenant,” Olivier orders, and Riza slowly lowers her arm but still looks uneasy. “I’ve called you here because I want to propose something to you.”


“Yes, sir?”

The Brigadier General stands up from her seat, her hands pressed on the top of the desk. “I’ve seen how the soldiers that you have been training at the shooting range have improved their skills substantially. I want you to teach the new recruits who need it how to handle a gun. They should on arrival, but many don’t expect that they’ll end up here. I figure this job is best suited for the Hawk’s Eye.”

Riza is taken aback by her proposal. She had just been teaching them on the side because she figured that having a battalion with even more skilled snipers would make the entire group stronger. She hadn’t thought that it would be so important that it would catch Olivier’s attention. When she doesn’t respond for a moment, Olivier speaks. “Do you understand me?”

Riza blinks once, then gives her a nod. “I understand and I’m honored, Sir.”

Olivier raises a brow, but ultimately sobers and her face becomes stern again. “I hope you realize the importance of this. If my men are incompetent at shooting, then Briggs will be left defenseless. You are training them to do one of the most important skills someone here could have. I am placing my full faith and trust in you, Hawkeye.”

She had never called her by her last name before, and now that she thinks about it Olivier only does so frequently to those she trusts with her life, like Buccaneer and Miles. Riza nods again. “I fully understand this undertaking and the importance of it all, Sir. The academy doesn’t teach soldiers how to fight in the snow, much less shoot during a snowstorm. I hope I can teach them all how to do this properly.”

Riza is concerned that she’s said too much, but Olivier doesn’t acknowledge it. “Then the task is yours and yours alone, Second Lieutenant. Don’t let me down.”

Riza salutes once again, and goes through the day feeling prouder of herself than she thinks she ever has before.

Over the years, Riza slowly works her way up the ranks in Briggs. As she teaches more and more incoming soldiers and those who need improvement to shoot, Olivier begins to see how her decision had been an intelligent one. Her soldiers are a more formidable force than before, and many of them develop near-perfect aim due to their training with Riza, and because of it suppress Drachman forces and potential spies. Riza soon becomes a trusted soldier until her command – she reports to her the progress each new batch of fresh-faced privates are making, so Olivier can know which ones are most likely to be used as snipers and which ones she shouldn’t put too much stock in. Beyond that, Olivier begins asking her for advice. She often uses Riza as a tiebreaker between Buccaneer and Miles, and values her opinion as much as the two men’s. Being one of the only women in Briggs has probably brought them closer as well, and Olivier respects her because they have both dealt with some kind of doubt of their abilities from male commanding officers, and because Riza herself is headstrong and opinionated. Due to the mostly male presence, Riza has adapted and has had to become more fierce than she would have been in any other circumstance.

Riza Hawkeye grows to demand respect from the burly and hefty men by not taking anyone’s shit. She comes to be regarded as the Sentinel of Briggs, watching over the mountains and the Ice Queen.

*

The first time Riza goes to the North versus East training exercises in the East, she runs into Roy Mustang for the first time since the war.

It was no secret that Olivier hated his guts. If she ever overheard his name by one of her men, Riza could easily see the disdain in her face, so she keeps it to herself that she’s known the man in a more personal way for years. She hadn’t spoken to him since Ishval, and he hardly ever crossed her thoughts because she had more important things to worry about than him. It hadn’t even crossed her mind that he would be at the exercise, because he hadn’t appeared at the other ones that had been held up North.

“Long time no see, huh?”

Riza turns where she had been standing under her tent, towards the voice that was to the right of her. Olivier had left to speak to another general, as she had just made Major General. He was there, with an entertained smile on his face, but it was still friendly and familiar. She doesn’t rush to hug him or greet him with a surprised, high-pitched voice. Instead, she keeps a straight face but steadies her eyes on him. “Hello, Colonel. Fancy seeing you here.”

“What do you mean by that?” he asks, probably glad that she is taking a sarcastic turn in the conversation.

“Well, considering you never showed up at the training exercises in the North, I’m almost surprised to see you here,’ Riza responds, not looking at him anymore but instead at the mass of soldiers arranged on the field.

“I’ve always hated snow,” Roy says, waving a non-committal hand in the air. “It was nothing against Briggs. Just personal preference, and I was never required to go.”

“That’s right. I had almost forgotten that you’re useless around any sort of water. I guess that includes snow, hm?” Riza teases, and looks over at him again just to see the way he flounders at her comment. This time it’s him who looks away, and Riza notices how he looks like a petulant child.

“That’s a low jab.”

“You made it too easy. How could I not?”

She expects Roy to still be frowning, but she sees that he doesn’t let it get to him too much – it’s good to see that he still has a sense of humor. “It must be a shock for you to be in the East. Are you still thawing out?”

It’s Riza’s turn to be slightly offended at the other’s comment. “I’m afraid so. It’s ungodly hot here.”

“Maybe I could be of some assistance,” Roy suggests, and at this Riza has to roll her eyes.

“It’s better to let things naturally thaw than to heat them up. You never were good at cooking, were you?” she asks, and while it’s not her best comeback it makes him chuckle.

“It’s good to see that you haven’t lost any of your wittiness while stuck up North.”

“You learn to use humor to get through the blizzards and invasions.”

Before he can reply, his commanding officer calls on him from afar, and Roy exhales and glances back at her before leaving. “I hope I’ll see you again soon,” Roy tells her, and she nods, saluting him before he goes – he is, after all, still a superior officer.

“I have a feeling we will, Sir.”

Olivier had noticed, while stuck in a boring conversation with another General, how Riza and Roy had seemed friendly already. She has an thought, but has to see if it would even work. “Is there something you need to tell me, Lieutenant?”

Riza doesn’t glance down at her from where Olivier’s sitting, and where she is standing behind her chair. “I don’t know what you mean, Sir.”

“Are you and Mustang friends?”

Riza pauses, weighing her options of what to say to give Olivier the right answer. “We are on friendly terms, yes.”

“I have an idea for you.”

After finding out that she already knew Roy, Olivier deems Riza to be her liaison of sorts in the East. She figured that it would be better for relations between the North and East if the high-ranking soldiers got along, and while she doesn’t mind knocking the Colonel down a few pegs, Olivier can only handle him in small amounts. She is bestowing even more trust onto Riza, who now has the responsibility to correspond between the two of them and tell Olivier everything spoken about that is important to her. Besides, Olivier would rather focus her time in Briggs than with the spineless men in the East.

Riza begins to look forward to her trips to the East. She doesn’t go very often, but she goes for when they request someone come from the North (they’d given up coaxing Olivier to come down for anything except reports on Drachma after an attempted invasion) to attend any sort of meeting they required her to come to. It’s a nice reprieve from the wintry air and snowy mountains of the North, almost like a small vacation. Even if she isn’t there just to see Roy, he always finds a way to conveniently run into her at headquarters.

“Does the General not like me anymore?” he asks, feigning disappointment. “I’m hurt.”

“She doesn’t really care if you’re hurt, so don’t worry too much about it,” Riza says, walking down the steps of Eastern Command at sundown, after a long day of meetings. He’s behind her and she decides to stop, turning and letting him catch up while tugging on his coat. She has her own on, with the small notepad she had written notes on in the meeting, knowing that she would remember what was said once she looked at her shorthand. “Where are you headed?”

“Out to dinner. I didn’t get to take my lunch break today, so I’m starving,” he answers, tucking his hands into his pants pockets and keeping up her pace.

“Oh, poor thing,” she teases, and he rolls his eyes but grins along with her.

“And what are your plans tonight?”

“Nothing special. I’m probably just going to order room service at the hotel.”

“How about you let me take you out for dinner?” he asks, giving her a broad and wide smile that she knows he uses to charm other girls, girls who have no idea that he’s not as charming as he lets on. “I know some good places here, that are inexpensive but good.”

“You’d take me somewhere cheap on a first date? How very unchivalrous.” Riza has her lips set in a flat line, but he can see the smirk that wants to uncurl on her lips. “I thought better of you, Colonel Mustang.”

“I didn’t think you’d want me to spend too much on you, Major Hawkeye,” he responds with the same air of sarcasm that she’s delivering to him. “Either way, I have a favor to ask of you.”

“And what’s that?”

“I’ve just recruited a State Alchemist into the military,” he starts, and her brows raise with surprise, no silly comeback in them, but instead she’s impressed. “I wanted to ask…if him and his brother ever end up in the North, will you make sure that they feel welcome there? I know General Armstrong won’t care much either way, and her two men are just as fierce as her, but I know you would make them feel not as scared as they would otherwise.”

“Why are you so worried about them feeling comfortable?” Riza asks, genuinely curious. “They’re adults, aren’t they?” Roy doesn’t respond for a moment, and even looks away like he can’t give her a straight answer. Riza’s brows furrow, and she watches him carefully. “What? You didn’t go and recruit a kid, did you?”

“As a matter of fact…”

Her eyes widen, and she stops walking, positively taken aback. “You didn’t. No, Colonel, even you aren’t that reckless.”

“He wanted to join –”

“How old is he?”

“Twelve. But, Riza, they told me he was in his thirties.”

Riza lets out a huff of disbelief, absolutely shocked at what he’s just told her. “But you still recruited him?”

“It’s a long story. Just – I’ll tell you all about it. If there wasn’t a serious reason, I wouldn’t have done it.” Roy is trying to cover his hide, and eventually Riza has to relax and come up with some way for him to tell her.

“Tell me about it over dinner,” she says, and for a moment Roy has to let it process. When Riza sees the smile start to grow on his face, she has to keep him from thinking it’s more than she’s implying. “It’s not a date. It’s just two colleagues going to talk business together.”

“Of course,” Roy nods, and she actually lets a small smile emerge because of the lopsided one he gives her in response to her stern orders. “Let me lead the way.”

*

Riza meets the Elrics when Buccaneer comes to the fort with a small boy and suit of armor in tow. She’s standing with Olivier and Miles, watching over them as they introduce themselves to Olivier and fail at making a good first impression. Riza almost wants to call down to them to apologize, but she stays silent, knowing that it’s best if she lets Olivier handle them for now – that is, until Ed yells up to her.

“Uh, ma’am? Are you Major Hawkeye?”

Nearly everyone who is there turns to face her, and despite herself her eyes widen in shock ever so slightly, and after a second she composes herself. “Yes. How do you know me?”

“Colonel Mustang told us to ask for you. Although, it might not mean anything if you don’t trust other’s recommendations, too.”

Riza wants to smile down at him, at his earnest words, but she forces herself to stay serious. “He told me to be on the lookout for you if you ever appeared. I’ve heard a lot about you.” When Ed and Al get hopeful, she adds on, “Mainly that you two can be nuisances,” and they deflate immediately.

She finds them again later on that night, outside working with pickaxes to break down icicles. Al is having an easier go with it than Ed is, who is too short to even reach the icicle with his pickaxe. Riza’s faces soften, and she speaks up from behind to warn them of her presence. “Need a lift?”

Ed barely has time to turn before Riza wraps her strong arms around his torso to pick him up, lifting him to be able to reach the icicles. Al watches and next to her, she hears a “Wow!” as Ed knocks down a piece of ice. “Major Hawkeye, how can you pick him up so easily?”

“Out here in Briggs, you’re trained to pick up things heavier than yourself, like cannons or bears,” she answers, looking over at Al as she steps to the side so Ed can work on the next icicle. “Luckily, Ed is probably half my size, so he feels light as a feather.” At this, Ed yells out a “Hey!”, and she laughs lightly to herself as she puts him back down on the ground while he gripes about not being short.

“Did the Colonel tell you we were coming?” Ed asks, after gathering himself on the ground.

“Nope. It’s a surprise to me.” Riza crosses her arms, and gives them both a kind smile. “He did ask me before, however, to be nice to you two.”

“After how the General treated us, I doubt anyone can be friendly here,” Ed grumbles.

“We’re a lot like you, Edward. We have to keep our guards up at all times,” Riza says, and she isn’t mocking him, but she’s coming from a maternal point of view. “The General takes everyone at face value, because she can’t be risky enough to trust someone based on what someone else thinks of them. She has to make her own judgment. She did it with me, and she’ll do it to you.”

“She was that harsh with you?” Al asks, and Riza nods.

“Even if my situation was different, she still had to make her own decision about how she felt about me. You have to earn respect here. So try to be respectful,” she says, and points the statement at Ed, who actually looks surprised but still nods.

“You know, we’ve heard so much about you, but you’re so…nice,” Al says, and even if he’s in a suit of armor, Riza finds him charming in a boyish kind of way. “We’re definitely thankful for you, Major.”
“I figured you needed someone on your side here from the beginning. You are both just kids, after all, even though you’ve had to grow up before you should have.”

“Yeah, well,” Ed starts, rubbing the back of his head, “You get used to it.”

“I know. I had to deal with the same thing,” she says, and before they can ask what she means, she changes the subject. “Anyways, the General may not take the word of others, but I can. The Colonel is a trustworthy man.”

“I can understand Al, but I don’t know why he put in a good word for me. He can’t stand me, and the feeling’s mutual,” Ed says, and Riza actually laughs, a warm and clear sound.

“Maybe you and the General will get along, then.”

*

Riza decides to go to Central on her own just before Olivier is summoned there herself, after the Elrics came to the fort and revealed the transmutation circle made by these Homunculi. She talks to Olivier about it beforehand, making sure has her blessing.

“You have the entire force of Briggs, but Falman has told me that Mustang has some kind of plan up his sleeve. He only has a haphazardly arranged group of soldiers willing to help orchestrate a coup, and can use all the help he can get.”

Olivier doesn’t answer at first, clearly thinking it over. “He could stand to have some help from the Hawk’s Eye.” She nods in agreement, clearly done thinking it over. “If he asks, tell him it’s not because I’m feeling friendly. If his plan doesn’t work, then this country could be taken down with him.”

This was how Riza ends up at his office door shortly after the work day, and knocks lightly. After hearing him tell her to come in, she enters, finding him staring out the window, deep in thought. She salutes him. “With the situation you’re in, you probably shouldn’t keep your back to the door, sir.”

Roy turns, and he has surprise written on his face when he sees her standing in front of him. “Major Hawkeye. What brings you here?”

“The Elrics came to Briggs. They told us everything they knew. I decided you needed me more than the Briggs men do, because you don’t have an entire army backing you up.” She pauses, trying not to be too bold or brag too much. “I figured you could use my help.”

Roy considers her suggestion for a moment, and eventually gives her an easy smile. “It would help to have a sniper on our side.”

Riza had been trained to be able to fight bears, survive cold and seemingly unending winters, but the Promised Day was unlike anything she had ever experienced. She had known it would be tough, but she hadn’t expected everything they fought to be impervious to bullets, leaving her basically defenseless outside of her fighting skills. During the day, she had forgotten the sheer power of flame alchemy, and alchemy in general, and had to keep herself from staring so she wouldn’t get left behind during the coup.

She had to help talk Roy down from going completely off the deep end while fighting Envy, not being kind with him at all, and even had her throat slit, used as a bargaining piece to get Roy to commit human transmutation, because they knew there was more than just an acquaintanceship between them; and when he wouldn’t, even after she was saved by a small Xingese girl, they forced him to do it.

Riza had thought he was completely done for until she hears the ground quaking and a couple of people on a stone hand, one of them an unfamiliar woman but the other is Roy, who she had thought had disappeared after being pinned down by the Fuhrer moments before. She rushes to help him off the hand, and realizes that he stumbles because his eyes are closed – it doesn’t take her long to realize he’s been blinded. “Sir, you need to stay back. You’re in no condition to fight –”

“I have to. They need me to.”

“You’re blind!”

“And you’re not,” he says, and finally opens his eyes, now grey and nearly empty. Riza understands, and she nods – even if he can’t see it, she knows he can sense it. “Your idea to help us was a good one after all.”

Riza helps guide his flames when they make it to the surface, and while she’s been trained to push through any kind of hardship, especially to say no to death, but after the Father is killed and the Elrics get their bodies back, it’s all she can do to not faint from her blood loss. She knows Roy couldn’t catch her if she fell, and there’s no one very close, so she has to wait until they get to an ambulance to relax and close her eyes, shrugging off her bloodied jacket and remind herself that she’s still alive.

All the Briggs soldiers who are there visit her in her private hospital room, before they leave to go back North. She isn’t able to leave right away, so per the doctor’s orders, she stays in Central until she heals. She tells them what happened to her neck, and they all listen to her story with a sort of awe. Vato Falman is the one who tells her, with a heavy heart, that Buccaneer was killed in action. Riza closes her eyes, bowing her head slightly with respect, but Riza has to ask – “How did he die?”

“Honorably,” Falman answers, and he seems sincere. “He wouldn’t have let himself die just any old death.”

“That’s the Briggs Way,” Riza finishes for him. “You either die honorably or defy death.”

“That it is,” Falman agrees, and after a short conversation he leaves her to let her rest. Riza is left deep in thought – now, more than ever, Briggs would need her, and she won’t admit it outright, but Olivier will need her, too.

She leaves earlier than she should. She can’t stand being stuck in a hospital while the men up North have already gone back to work. She drops by both Roy and Al’s rooms, wishing them well before leaving (it was still jarring to see Al as a young man, and to look at Roy and see grey eyes, even if they would be healed), going back to the atmosphere she was comfortable with, feeling satisfied knowing that she helped save the country she always strove to protect when it mattered the most.

Riza stays for a while in Briggs afterwards, but she sees her time at Briggs come to an end when the new Fuhrer, Grumman, requests that she work under him as his personal bodyguard. In fact, he comes to Briggs himself to talk it over with Olivier, and to meet Riza.

She realizes why he asks her to be his bodyguard when he asks who her father is. “Berthold, wasn’t it?”

“How do you know him?”

“My daughter was married to him. Victoria Grumman.”

Riza’s eyes widen, positively shocked. She hadn’t remembered her mother’s maiden name, but she remembered her first name. She remembers hearing her and her father argue about Riza’s grandfather, with Berthold not wanting anything to do with the man. Riza gives Grumman a closer look, and if she looks deep enough she can see the barest trace of a resemblance to her mother, but she always assumed her mother looked like her own. “How should I believe you?”

“She sent me just one letter about her daughter, who she named Riza, and who she wished could meet me. I didn’t think telling you at a training exercise would be appropriate, and neither was telling Mustang, who I knew knew you, but after the Promised Day I’ve realized that you should be my personal bodyguard. I feel I can trust you to watch my back.”

Riza asks him to let her think it over. She can’t sleep that night. Leaving Briggs would be bittersweet – it was where she made her career, where she grew close to so many other brave souls like herself, where she grew as a person and soldier. She felt at home here, but something was telling her that she can’t possibly turn down a job offer from the Fuhrer himself.

It’s Olivier who helps her make her decision. She walks with her to the meeting room where Grumman was waiting, and on the way, says, “You have done more than enough here. It will be a shame to lose you here, but your expertise is needed elsewhere. Don’t let any of us hold you back.”

That is enough for Riza to know what she needs to do.

She leaves the next day with Grumman, and while she expected to leave without much fanfare, it seems most of the Briggs crew, if not all of them, stopped what they were doing to watch her leave. Olivier and Miles stand above all of them, their faces still stone cold and their posture statuesque, but Riza knows it’s as bittersweet for them as it is for her. There are too many memories here, too many good people that she’s leaving behind.

But, as she waves goodbye to them all, they all salute her, and when she slips into the car she has to cover her mouth to stop from crying before Grumman comes in after her. She may be leaving for Central, but Riza was still a Briggs soldier.

Riza was starting a new part of her life, but she would still be the Sentinel of Briggs through and through.

Lafayette had never yet put his foot on board a boat without getting seasick. Crossing the ocean in the dead of winter was not at all to his liking. The ‘Alliance’ slowly cut her way through the ice in the road, while Lafayette hugged his hammock…..[During a terrible storm] Lafayette, moaning in his bunk, sent his aide, the Chevalier de Pontgibaud, to Captain de Raimondis…..The marquis wanted to know whether the old sailor thought they were doomed. Pontgibaud, stumbling and sick, came back with the dismaying report that Raimondis had never in all his campaigns experienced such a fearful gale. Lafayette groaned: Why, at his age, with his name, rank, and fortune, and with such a wife, had he left all to make a meal for codfish!
—  Lafayette In America by Louis Gottschalk, Book 2, pg. 324. Poor sick Laf was about to get more than just nauseous. It turns out, being a Marquis makes you a pretty sizable target for mutineers…and he was about to get wrapped up in just such a plot.
Fire and Ice

Prompt/Note: This is for #Bailey’s Disney Quotes Challenge - #17 - “Well, there’s the usual things: flowers…chocolates…promises you don’t intend to keep…” Cogsworth, Beauty and the Beast - and I chose Bucky x Reader and Reader is with the X-Men who is sent on a mission with the Avengers!

Note: This was so fun! Thank you so much Bailey for letting me do it. I haven’t written Bucky much so I was nervous! Beta’d by my other half @like-a-bag-of-potatoes for @buckysmetallicstump I did a crossover, I hope that’s okay!!

Warnings: Language…that’s about it

Word Count: 1527

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

“Y/N, could you come here?” Professor X asked as you walked by with Marie.

“Yes, Professor?” you asked as you bounded up behind him in his chair.

“I need you to go with Logan, Remy, and Storm to the Avengers Tower and help them with a mission.”

“Since when do we help the Avengers?” you questioned.

“Since we are their friends. We are allies of anyone who is willing to stop evil, Y/N, remember that,” Professor X said before rolling away.

————-

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Winter Interrupted (Part 10-Final) (Bucky Barnes x reader)

Part 9

You held out your hand, finally accepting Steve’s help so that you could stand, feeling a wobble in your gait despite your determination to keep it from him. Steve looked at you skeptically, but you ignored him, your eyes fixed on Bucky with each uncertain step closer. With his free hand, Steve pushed his own chair closer to the gurney so that you could sit again, but as usual, you declined him, much to his annoyance.

“(Y/N), sit.  You look like you’re going to fall over.”

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Imagine You're a Worried Father

You could hear the latest blizzard howling around your small cottage. It was currently the dead of winter and the raging storms forced everyone inside or risk meeting the Grim Reaper. You kneel next to the fire and poke it to life once more feeling the bedroom with a welcoming warmth, “There we go. Is that better, honey?”

You look over towards your heavily pregnant wife wrapped tightly in a blanket. She nods, “Yes that’s better, thank you.”

You smile softly and return to sitting behind her. You wrap your arms around her once more and rest one hand atop her overripe middle, “There you go little one. Daddy has the fire going again. I’ll keep you and Mama nice and warm.”

“Were you able to get your ingredients, dear?” your wife ask looking over at your messy work table.

You nod looking at the mess you has left, “I got what I need. Once we warm up I’ll make more cold proof potions. If these ice storms keep up, I’ll be able to sell plenty to the guards and an adventures in the tavern. Hopefully that will be enough for us to make it through the winter.” You gently take both hands and slowly stroke the full length of your wife’s middle, “I don’t think you have any room left for him.”

She sighs and leans more heavily against you, “It sure doesn’t feel like it. As much as I’m ready for him to come, not in one of these storms. I’m frighten enough of giving birth in winter, but with these blizzards.” Your wife shudders, “Just the thought gives me chills.” Her last line causes both of you to smirk, “No pun intended.”

You move your hands to the bottom side of her abdomen, gently cradling her belly as she places both hands on top of her middle. Together, you sit in silence watching the fire dance for several minutes. You suddenly feel a push against your right hand, “Oh? Hello there.” You speak and softly rub the spot, “Trying to headbutt me are you?” You feel another nudge against your hand then watch as your wife’s belly distorts as your child squirms and stretches.

“Decided to wake up?” Your wife coos as you playfully trace your child’s movements, “Do you plan on keeping me up all night with that or are you going back to sleep after you play with Daddy?”

You chuckle while continuing to rub her belly, “You should let Mama sleep. She’s going to need her energy soon.” You give a loving sigh and hug your wife tightly and plant a kiss on her cheek, “are you getting tired?”

She shakes her head and speaks with a smile, “Not yet, I’ll let you two play a bit more.”

~*~*~*~*~*

More fluff for everyone

I rejoyce in the rain and our playful passion, she is my whimsical lover. It is storm season where I am, so the bond weaved between me and Iansã incessantly tugs me to Her and makes me insane, truly, last friday I was out on a party wearing a dress in Oyá’s color red, when a storm hit - I went outside to dance cumbia in the rain and pray while She danced with me, the lightnings so strong that the sky would turn day, and through miracle I did not get the cold after spending all of a winter night dripping with rainwater. When my friends asked me how, I said that She was protecting me, my beautiful love.

Looks like we’re winding down on the crappy weather outside. The weatherman insists that this last storm was the official end of winter. Certainly good news and all, but I hate it when they make statements like that. Gets my hopes up. All of the snow is now gone, and I’m noticing more and more little pops of bulbs here and there. I keep repeating ::spring is coming, spring is coming:: over and over again like a mantra. It will get here eventually. I’ve been flipping through garden photos from last year as a means to keep my mood on the positive side. In a few short weeks, assuming the weatherman is correct, my garden will look like this once again. And I. Can’t. Wait.

Caffeine Challenge #18

This is late but I like the prompt and wanted to find the time for it. It’s also not completed– I have a feeling I’ll work on it as the next challenge, too.
prompt: It’s snowing, which is how she knows that her lover is lying to her.

It’s snowing, which is how she knows that her lover is lying to her.

She doesn’t say anything, though. Two can play at lying.

“The trains have been terribly inconsistent lately, haven’t they?” she says instead.

“Yes, they have,” Cecilia agrees. She turns her back, hangs up her coat. “Must be the weather.”

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This life.

As painful as this is, I think it’s time for an update about my life, a full update.

When I moved from home, thousands of miles from home, I sought something that was unattainable; stability. I left broken pieces scattered through Pennsylvania, hoping that I would never have to return to fix them. But this was a temporary escape. 

I thought working and living and running in Colorado would normalize my life. It was far, it was wild, it was vast, it was THE WEST. Manifest destiny, I had to try for a new life. 

And for a while, it was. My running came back, 10 mile long runs, lets go. I stopped talking to my Dad and all the other toxic humans in my life. I was saving money. I was exploring. I was learning. I was growing. But through all of this, I was just building up walls, constructed of weak cardboard, glued together as temporary shelter from demons that were crawling closer and closer. And off in the distance there was a dark storm forming. A storm that broke down these flimsy walls with ease, letting the demons in to rip apart all those things that I have worked so hard to rebuild. 

But the storm was something that I could have never predicted. 

And now, after a broken phone, a car crash, my car ultimately getting totaled, paying $1,300 to a rental company, realizing how little my mom cares about the small accomplishments in my life, becoming dependent on a human, and my running going to shit, I ultimately deciding to move home for the winter. I feel a sense of failure. I feel broken. I feel withdrawn. 

However, I have learned through the toughest period of my life thus far that you can’t just escape without closure, without fixing things, without feeling the things you never want to feel.

At first, I did not want to come home, at all. But after hours, days, and weeks, spent thinking about this, I have realized that this will be healthy. 

I finally made a YEAR LONG running plan (which I will share with you all eventually), races to run, places to run, PA RUNNING.

I’ll be saving money. 

I’ll be close to my friends.

I will have the chance to breathe and to work on myself.

So with the above being said, it is hard, it sucks, but by this time next year I will be better and I will be healthy again. And that is something that is attainable. 

The Seal Lullaby: Chapter 6

Cannot believe I’ve been writing this for six weeks

This one is very, very angsty, so consider this your warning. As always, a huge huge thanks to @minky-for-short @childofdustandashes @oversaturated-ocean @purearcticfire and @lookatvanessasface

I’ve met so many lovely, lovely people through posting and writing this fic and I love you all, @brainypaperbullets @hollywoodx4 @arya-durin-51 and the ever complimentary @kilocurican

I really hope you guys like this


“See? I told you he’d have your eyes.”

“Damn. Thought fate would have given the poor kid a break after he got my nose too.”

“Oh, shut up! It looks so sweet, don’t give the little guy a complex.”

“Yeah well, he’s been saved, he’s got your face. Handsome devil.”

“I’d be slightly more worried about the fact he’s got your appetite. And your sleep schedule. And your blabbermouth.”

“God help us all.”

Alex and Eliza loved to play this game, in the early mornings or late evenings or whatever time they found themselves lying side by side on their bed with little Philip on his back and encircled by his parents’ bodies. The conventions of normal time, words like breakfast and noon and dinner and bedtime, had kind of blurred into meaningless ever since they’d had their baby. To the point where Eliza had found Alex putting a pizza in the oven (he’d been given his kitchen privileges back and was actually turning into a very good cook) at two in the morning and had thought nothing of it. It was kind of fun, actually, to not have any ties to structure or schedule, to just float in their own little bubble, them and their little treasure, beholden to nothing and no one but themselves.

“I don’t quite know where these came from though,” Eliza hummed, gently ruffling Philip’s head of tight, dark brown curls that stuck up after a good night’s sleep and after he’d been doing his favourite activity of rolling around on the floor of his father’s writing room while he worked, and bounced adorably when he got excited or happy or fidgety. Right now, they were fluffed up around his sweet, attentive face as he yawned and fought against his impending nap, to not much avail. But he had his mama and pops right by him, he was warm and smelling all soft and soapy from his recent bath, the room was illuminated with the orange glow that was only ever found in the early evening as day slipped to night. He wasn’t fighting too hard, it was mostly for show.

“I do,” Alex murmured after a few moment’s pause, his eyes fixed on his wife’s fingers gently combing through their baby’s curls in such a gentle and protective gesture.

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A Cabin Where the Fire Burns

So I finished that smut fic I wrote for fun awhile back. This is my first so I hope you enjoy!! As always constructive criticism is welcome.

Aelin and Rowan the maid of honor and best man at Lysandra and Aedion’s wedding. It’s winter and they’re driving through the mountains to get to the destination. The weather gets really bad, an epic snow storm takes them by surprise so they pull over. They notice a little drive way off the side of the road and follow it to a cabin abandoned for the winter.

WARNING: THIS HAS VERY SEXUALLY EXPLICIT CONTENT!!

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When discussing Zuko’s character  development, it’s of crucial importance to understand his mindset. Up to his defection in Book 3, this mindset usually took the form of “I will do anything and everything to regain my father’s love,” which manifested itself as Zuko trying to capture the Avatar to regain his honor. 

Of course, there are a few moments where Zuko foregoes his quest, instead choosing to either listen to his uncle’s advice, or to help him. Examples of this include: “Winter Solstice: Part 1″; when Zuko sees Appa flying overhead, but chooses to too find iroh instead; “The Storm,” when Zuko lets Aang escape because of the storm; “Siege of the North,” when Zuko is too exhausted to actually go look for Aang; “The Chase,” when Zuko is too overwhelmed by iroh getting hurt by Azula”; and finally “Lake Laogai,” after iroh confronts him about his obsession with hunting Aang and wanting to regain his honor. 

These examples, in addition to molding Zuko into a multi-faceted character with many thoughts, and ideas up in that brain of his, seems to point to the conclusion that, when it comes to his uncle, Zuko will choose him over most things if he thinks his life is in danger. 

In fact, in the “Lost Scrolls” comic “Going Home Again,” Azula uses this knowledge to convince Zuko to come home with her: 

Azula: Poor, poor Uncle…I wonder if he’ll survive the trip home. Well, we must be going. I suggest you bid farewell to your girlfriend, little brother. 
Zuko: No. I…I’m coming with you. I’m going back to the Fire Nation.

However, Zuko will also choose his honor quest and his father’s love over all else if he thinks he’s either in danger of losing it forever, or if he feels like he’s really close to getting it and achieving his goals. Examples of this include “Winter Solstice Part 2,” when Zuko defies his father’s orders and risks capture by heading into Fire Nation waters to capture Aang; “The Blue Spirit,” when Zuko infiltrates a Fire nation fortress to capture Aang; “Siege of the North: Parts 1 & 2,” when Zuko kidnaps Aang and tries to wait through a blizzard; “Lake Laogai,” when Zuko decides to infiltrate Dai Li headquarters to find Appa so he can get to Aang; and finally “The crossroads of Destiny,” when Zuko chooses restoring his honor/father’s love over Iroh. 

There is however, another way of looking at Zuko’s actions, and that’s through the lens of long term, and short term effects, and what effect this will have on Zuko’s perception of how much happiness he’ll gain through his actions (or whether or not he’ll gain his father’s love). 

Thus, while he will put his quest aside to help his uncle, or to actually take his advice, he will quickly choose an alternate option if he thinks doing so will get him immediate happiness, or an automatic escape from whatever situation he’s in. Thus, we get examples like Zuko putting on the guise of the Blue Spirit again in “Avatar Day” to steal food; Zuko stealing food with Jet in “The Serpent’s Pass”; Zuko trying to find Appa in “Lake Laogai”; and Zuko choosing to side with Azula in “The Crossroads of Destiny.” 

So, while Zuko is persistent in his goals, and while he will go after his goals for long periods of times, his focus is always on clear cut, short term goals. This is is why Zuko does not “think things through.” He is focused on getting from A point A to B without considering all the stumbling blocks that may crop up between those two steps. And, while he will occasionally forego his long term goals, he will automatically pick up where he left off if rewards and happiness appear to be imminent.

7

I never get tired of watching these Steller’s Jays prepare for winter is so much fun. They show up to the bird table, stuff as many peanuts and sunflower seeds as they can fit into their crop. Then, they find places to hide them. Most of the time, it’s under a bush, in the ground, or somewhere else that will keep it dry through the winter rain storms. But, as they adapt to the suburbs, they cache their food under roof shingles, in gardens, and any spot they can stuff a peanut that has even a remote chance staying dry.