prompt 2014

whatevenno  asked:

Do you have any Adam/Belle fic recs?

I have like a billion favorite fics in this fandom and they are a mix between the original film and the new version SO I’M GONNA PUT BOTH! I’ll write the year in the description (but AUs kinda apply to both most stories do because of the OVERWHELMING similarities in the two movies) (I could have added so many more but this is like too long😂)

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Written for Royai Week 2014, for prompt “Memories”. Comments and reviews always welcome, I also read tags.

Read on // Read on AO3

Edward Elric knew he should have turned in the report two days ago. Between visiting the Hughes and doing a few errands for Winry, he had totally forgotten about it and left it in his hotel room when he went to Headquarters. He hadn’t really cared that Mustang wasn’t happy with his slip-up until he scolded him like a child, immediately teasing him with ‘your memory is as small as you.’ At that, Ed exploded in an anger tantrum until Hawkeye stopped him.


She was a person Edward didn’t want to discuss with. He admired her, and feared her. He didn’t understand how a woman of her kind would hang around a man like Mustang, even if they were commanding officer and subordinate.

“Edward, we need that report. Please bring it as soon as possible,” she had said.

And that was it. She left such an awkward feeling in him that all he wanted to do was go back to his hotel and get rid of the damn paper. But as usual, he had come across something unexpected; a new clue on the whereabouts of the Philosopher’s Stone. His brother was already investigating on the matter, and they had gotten tickets to travel to that mysterious place the following dawn. That meant he wouldn’t have the time to take the report to the office before he left, and that was why he now stood at the Colonel’s apartment door, knocking on the shabby wood.

The Flame Alchemist looked at him with surprise, having not anticipated the visit.

“Fullmetal! What are you doing here?”

The boy scratched his head. “Hey, Colonel. Al and I are leaving tomorrow towards the West, so I brought you the report.”

Roy studied him for a moment and stared inside his apartment before looking at Ed again. “Come in. I was about to shower, but if you’re leaving then hold on, I want you to tell me about it.” He was only wearing a pair of pale blue pajama pants; his feet and chest were bare and his hair was disheveled, as if he had just gotten up.

“Alright,” Ed said, and entered Colonel Roy Mustang’s home for the first time.

All the furniture pieces were of the exact same tone of wood. The walls were empty except for a big, apparently interesting bookshelf, and the living room had a huge, attention-getting black sofa that seemed very comfortable. The coffee table that was before it, as well as the desk that was under the window, had both a good amount of picture frames.

“Hey, you sure have a lot of pictures, Colonel.”

Roy grinned widely. “Yes. I’m very proud of my collection,” he said before going to the bathroom and leaving Ed alone.

The young alchemist sat on the sofa and observed the pictures. There was one of his entire team before the HQ building saluting at the camera; another one with Roy and Hughes, an arm of each of them over the shoulders of the other. A third picture with the Colonel surrounded by a large older woman and many other girls about his age. The frame in the center of the table showed what Ed supposed was Roy as a boy, probably as old as Ed now was, and he stood happily besides a blonde little girl; funny how she reminded Ed so much of Lieutenant Hawkeye.

Ed walked up to the desk and lifted a picture frame in his hands. The photograph showed three young men, Roy being one of them, all wearing the same white clothing; probably taken during the academy. He extended his arm to put the object back on its place, but something fell from it. The blond teenager bent down to grab it; it was a picture of… Lieutenant Hawkeye?


That had to be the weirdest thing he had seen from her. He’d almost thought she didn’t need to sleep, which was obviously ridiculous. But how did the Colonel manage to get a picture of the Lieutenant in such vulnerable state without her consent? What a bastard!

Ed put the picture back where it fell from: hidden behind the one he had lifted. He wondered if there were any other concealed photos behind the ones that were publicly visible. After checking that Mustang wouldn’t yet come out of the shower, he smirked and took another picture frame. Indeed, behind the innocent image of baby Elicia, there was the unauthorized, top secret, revealing picture of… again, Hawkeye? She was cooking something, wearing an apron; nothing out of the ordinary. He wondered why this picture would be hidden as well; maybe he just liked it a lot but didn’t want other women to get jealous over it. Although it was a simple picture, really.

He looked inside other frames; it seemed like most of them actually had double content. Something wasn’t right, though. Every single one of them, every single one, was a photograph of the First Lieutenant. Reading a book; hugging her dog; drinking from a cup. She had to be aware of the existence of these pictures; there was no doubt about it. As he surreptitiously spied on Mustang’s collection, he thought what would be the reason behind this madness.

Was the Colonel obsessed with her? Was he so terribly infatuated with her that it wasn’t enough to see her at work everyday, and needed to keep ordinary pictures of the woman?

Could he possibly be in love with her?

Edward snickered at the thought. How crazy was that?! And what would the Lieutenant think about it? Of course she wouldn’t want to be with such a loud and arrogant idiot. Anyway, curiosity had taken the worst of him, and he continued his observations.

He lifted an eyebrow and neared the paper to his face. Yes, she definitely knew of these pictures. The next one he saw showed Colonel Mustang with an extended arm towards the camera (holding it, Ed guessed), with a stupid grin on his face as Lieutenant Hawkeye kissed his cheek.

Ed had no idea they were such good friends. Close co-workers, sure. But this was beyond any professional relationship. Suddenly he wanted to know all about them: how they met, how they got so close, how they talked when they were alone. He felt like a little girl wanting to know everything about her favorite actors, he couldn’t believe himself.

He took another picture. He was already so into it he just couldn’t stop. Mustang was also in this one; he held Lieutenant Hawkeye on his back, piggyback-riding him. What the hell?!

It had been taken right in this apartment, it seemed. All the photographs were taken either here or just one other place; the Lieutenant’s, clearly.

He heard the faucets being turned off leaving him with little time, so he took two more of them; the last ones, he told himself. He froze. No. He no longer wanted to know about the Colonel and the Lieutenant.


He jumped with panic. That wasn’t even Mustang’s voice.

He turned around, slowly, scared, seriously fearing for his life. His mouth went dry. “Lieutenant Hawkeye?”

She was lying casually against a wall, decently dressed but with tired eyes and loose disheveled hair. Had she been here all along? “What are you doing here?”

“Uh…” He pointed a finger to the coffee table. “I brought the report,” he said, smiling nervously, hoping she wouldn’t shoot him in the head when she found out.

“Oh, thank you. And what’s that in your hand?”

He flinched, and sweated, and wanted to run. “Well… uh, you’ll see…”

She pursed her lips and walked up to him; he released the pictures and braced himself for an attack that didn’t come. She simply stared at the pictures, all of them, quietly and expressionless.

“I’m so sor-”


He gulped. “…Yes?”

“You saw nothing.”

He nodded. “Yes, ma'am.”

“You can go.”

He wouldn’t argue with that. He left as fast as he could without even saying goodbye. It seemed like Lieutenant Hawkeye hadn’t seen all the photographs, after all. Definitely not the one where she was with her back to the camera, wearing the same apron as before, a shirt and… only underwear below it. And definitely neither the one where she was resting in the bathtub, no apparent clothes on and covered only by foam.

Roy entered the living room, fresh and clean. Ed was nowhere to be seen. Riza was up and looking gorgeous. He was ready for round two.

And Hawkeye was ready for a round, too. Of lead.

SSM Day 27

Title: Say that Again
Summary: As Sakura’s pregnancy moves along, Sasuke tries to restrict her activities more—but Sakura is growing less and less patient every day.
Disclaimer: I don’t own Naruto.  Everything ended perfectly–but I want more Uchiha babies.
Prompt: Misguided from day twenty-eight of the SasuSakuMonth Prompts.
Rating: T
Words: 5.079
Warning(s): Feelings of worthlessness
Author’s Note: One of the things I love about Sakura most are her insecurities—her “imperfections” make her so much more real to me. So, I thought I would explore one of her deepest fears and how I imagined it might reveal itself during her pregnancy with Sarada.

“What did you say, Sasuke-kun?” the words were sickly sweet dripping off her tongue and her famous false smile decorated her plush mouth, “I don’t think I heard you right.”

Through narrowed bottle-green eyes, Sakura observed the smallest quiver of Sasuke’s adam’s apple as he swallowed discretely. He knew she was angry. Good. Now, the smug bastard just needed to do some serious back-peddling and everything could return to normal.

If only life was that simple.

“I said you should stop working at the hospital,” Sasuke repeated, meeting her gaze squarely, “You’re in no shape to be healing.”

Sakura saw red.

“Excuse me?” she snarled, giving up any pretenses of pleasantness as she stalked in his direction, “Since when are you my doctor, Uchiha?” She poked his chest, and Sasuke flinched despite himself; it would definitely bruise. “You have no idea what type of shape I’m in or what I’m capable of!”

“I don’t have to be a medic to know that spending twelve hours on your feet is not healthy for any pregnant woman, Sakura!” Sasuke retaliated lowly.

“I’m not giving up the hospital!” Sakura shouted, planting her fists on the sides of her swollen stomach.

Although Sasuke wasn’t yelling, irritation was marked in the extreme control he was exerting over his breathing. “You’re hormonal and not thinking clearly,” he growled through clenched teeth, “We’ll have this conversation again when you’ve grown up and realized your being extremely selfish. Perhaps my talking to Tsunade will help you see reason.” With that threat, Sasuke stiffly turned away from her and stalked into their bedroom.

Did he really just threaten to tell on her?

“It’s my body! I know my limits!” Sakura screeched at Sasuke’s retreating back, “And it’s my hospital, so I’ll work there as long as I damn well please!!”

The door she slammed behind her could have sent cracks through the walls, but Sakura wasn’t sure. She never looked back to check.

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Day 3: Home/Domestic

Married husbands are my weakness. Also Levi in thigh highs and boyfriend sweater.

Actually I started this on the 1st December and wanted to send this out as holiday cards but here I am not even being able to finish it in time for the third day of eruri week… Oh well, maybe next this year~

My other entries:
Day 1: Past/Memories | Day 2: Sacrifice | Day 6: Reunion | Day 8: nsfw

eruriweek | prompts

Have Some Laughs with these wonderful sterek humor ficrecs.

Fluffing Globstoppers by mikkimouse [E | 1.9k | January 2016]

“What did you just say?” Scott asked, eyes huge.

“What?” Stiles said. “I said it’s fluffing anti-climactic…wait. What the fluff? Fluff? Fluff!“


Stiles is cursed not to curse. He’s really not happy about it.

Especially Derek, who still scares me by LoveActually_rps [T | 4.7k | February 2016]

“The Hales are dangerous, Lydia,” Jackson butted in, coming to Stiles’ rescue. “Haven’t you heard the rumors about how they eat newly turned weres on the night of the full moon?”

“Wha-” Stiles let out a strangled noise and Jackson patted him in fake sympathy, suppressing his usual cocky smile.

“Well, haven’t you heard the rumors about how they grow horns and a pointed tail and carry a pitchfork on other nights?” Allison countered, huffing out a soft laugh. “Those rumors are ridiculous,”

“Can we please stop talking about the Hales?” Stiles pleaded, shivering and tired, rubbing the towel over his flat dripping hair. “…especially Derek, who still scares me,” he swallowed hard.

[aka, even though Talia Hale’s first and foremost plan on moving to Beacon Hills was to “Clean up the Hale image”, Derek was far too contented with his “Scaring the shit out of Stiles” plan. Just - he didn’t know Stiles was already of age and maybe transforming into something pretty badass any day]

it’s my (pants) party and i’ll cry if i want to by oncetherewasapirate [E | 5k | August 2015]

Stiles really should have known by now that dating a witch who’s liable to get angry at the drop of a hat probably wasn’t his best relationship decision. But he didn’t.
Stiles just never thought that, after she cursed him, it would turn out to be so literal.

FAILBOAT HOOKER STILES by DomesticatedChaos [E | 7k | March 2015]

Stiles’s dad is in the hospital so he decides to sell himself on the mean streets of San Francisco to pay for the overwhelming amount of debt he finds himself in. Should be pretty easy, right? Except everyone keeps trying to save him and take care of him and now Stiles just really, really, really wants to get laid.

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SSMonth Day 23

Even when submerged in the deepest, most peaceful sleep, Uchiha Sakura’s nose knew when her husband was cooking. The delicate appendage twitched, half engulfed by a downy pillow, as the woman it was attached to slowly began to stir.

Mmmm, food, she thought sleepily as the tantalizing scent of sautéed vegetables permeated her consciousness. Usually, cooking breakfast was her thing—simply because she always got up earlier. Sasuke generally preferred to rest in bed for a bit longer, but the promise of food and her vacant spot on their mattress tended to drive him downstairs to the kitchen before he would normally wake up. Naruto joked that Sakura was turning him into a morning person, and although Sasuke scoffed, it was mostly true.

As long as it was Sakura—or her absence—that drove him to wakefulness, there was very little chance of anyone being harmed or any structures being destroyed. Naruto still ran that risk, however, but sometimes he liked to live dangerously.

The Uchiha matriarch stretched lazily, and in doing so she caught a glimpse of the combined engagement and wedding ring on her left ring finger. The center gem was a cushion cut diamond, and two small pear cut rubies decorated either side side, pointing outwards. Her engagement band wove around the edge of the precious stones, but the silver band was far from simple the the inlaid intricate designs that matched those on her wedding band. Even though their marriage had been almost a year ago, Sakura still felt a burst of happiness every time she saw it.

For the longest time, Sasuke’s return to the village had been so dubious. Although she only lost hope once, it had still been a painful journey, and the fact that Sasuke was finally back caused her to pinch herself several times a day.

Back and married to her. In all reality, she would have accepted whatever came as long as the poor manipulated boy that had been her teammate finally found happiness. When Sasuke declared that his happiness was intertwined with hers, dropped to his knee, and smoothly presented her gorgeous wedding band, she’d about had a heart attack,

He’d wanted to give her his mother’s wedding ring as according to traditon, but it had been lost in the destruction Pein wrought on Konoha. The cherry on top was when Sasuke actually had said–verbally, with words–that this might be the sign the Uchiha clan was finally getting a fresh start.

The memory only served to increase the smile adorning her face. That romantic sap. Sasuke may still like to pretend he was aloof and cool, but the dork was one of the biggest romantics she knew. She had been expecting a loving relationship that avoided public displays of affection and overly amorous gestures, but Sasuke seemed determined to pull out all the stops in their relationship. It probably stemmed from being so starved for love, affection, and family for so long.

And now we’re starting a family and finally beginning to restore the Uchiha clan, Sakura grinned, rubbing her currently flat stomach. It wouldn’t be long before her womb began to round with the life of the next generation of Uchihas, but Sakura didn’t mind the stretch marks that were soon to follow. She had already earned plenty of scars from well-fought battles; what was one more set of marks well-earned from bringing their child into this world?

Sakura’s stomach growled loudly, interrupting her musings and reminding her of the reason she woke up in the first place. Grinning—she didn’t think she would stop smiling any time soon—the kunoichi slithered out from under the sheets and into Sasuke’s discarded shirts laying on the floor. Predictably, it bore the Uchiha mark on the back, but then again, so did most of Sakura’s clothes, too. Swathed in the musky scent of her lover, Sakura padded downstairs to grab some of the breakfast Sasuke was preparing.

Arriving in the doorway of their kitchen, Sakura wasn’t sure which was more delicious: the sight in front of her or the mouthwatering aroma of melting cheese.

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