#i want everyone to bask in such delight with me

[smallpumpkinboi]

I have this extremely rude customer who would regularly yell at us and was overall terrible and I just found out that they've been arrested and it's honestly quite therapeutic

[echantedtoon]

Quite A Handful Ch2 Urami And Zohakutan

(Warnings for possible mentions of violence, death, cannibalism, usual kny content, etc.

I decided to include the last two clones too since I wrote for the main clones and Hantengu. I'll include Zohakutan but his interactions with Wife Y/n are STRICTLY PLATONIC!!

Hey everyone. I just wanted to thank everyone who read this far and liked my story enough to read it to it's end. I had a lot of fun writing it and it makes me happy knowing some people loved it enough to read it fully. If you liked this consider checking out my other works. Thanks to everyone for reading this, faving it, or leaving a nice comment. And thank you to Koyoharu Gotouge for creating such wonderful characters and giving me the opportunity to make this wonderful story.)

@hawnkoii

@hantengus-fuckass-clones

@hantenguclonesimp-minuszoha

The darkness of night was always dangerous to those whom did not heed the warnings of the monsters whom lurked within the abyss and shadows.

The woman knew that more than anyone else very well. Often finding herself confined within it's hold. Innocence ensnared like a bird within it's cage. Singing it's innocent melodies despite being condemned to be surrounded by cold iron bars. Forever ongoing. Swirling, swirling around

The sun sank beneath the horizon to make way for his sister the moon to take her rightful place upon her throne of darkness surrounded by her army men of stars and comets. 'Cone out!' She cried out to her dark children that hid from the light. 'My brother and his infernal light is gone. Once more come out to greet your mother and wreck discord upon thine earth. Have your fun dancing in my gentle glow and bask in the darkness that I reign upon as I watch over you.' The monsters woul answer their mother's cries. Dancing. Reigning havoc over the darkness. Bringing entropy to every household they manage to invade.

A fire warmed up the skin as your lazy eyes watched the dancing flames in the pit. The flickering lights casted dancing shadows the lonely still walls. They frolicked in tune with their own rythme in their own universe. However the warmth of the fire kept your body warm and toasted from the cold outside. No doubt crawling with monsters and demons of the abyss walking forth towards you with every step they took. In tune with every breath you took. But you didn't mind. Infact within the darkness the maiden embraced their outstretched embrace.

Step. Step. Step.

Closer and closer.

Breaths of sins clawed their way from a maw that swallowed more innocent lives than the mind cared to remember. Smiling at a wicked whom remembered or a sinful coppery taste that it could still taste on the malicious tongue. Running the muscle along fangs sharp and destined to rip flesh from mere bond. However the sins of that life would be forgotten in exchange for the comfort of innocence that the night allowed him to have once every moon. Footsteps soft yet loud enough to echo through the darkness and approaching the house with remaining light. Light that offered warmth and comfort but not protection.

F/c eyes opened slightly and turned. A door normally provided comfort and protection was no match for the class that ensnared it and pushed it open allowing the night and shadows to spill inside. The sinful, wicked face was delighted to see the one of innocent happiness smiling back to her.

"Hi, Honey!," you greeted brightly from where you were currently cutting a raw cow steak into smaller pieces for your dinner while a giant pot of rice was bubbling in the fireplace behind your smiling face. "You're home late. How was work tonight?" You beamed expecting your husband to crawl in by himself and maybe a few of his clones to come in but you were stunned by who instead walked in through the doorway. "Oh no. What happened?"

It wasn't your husband that waltzed in through the doorway. Uh..Well technically it WAS but it just wasn't the part of him that you were expecting to see tonight. A giant lumbering figure ducked down having to bend at the knees just to get in. The exact copy of your husband if your husband was taller than even a large man and if he was angry instead of scared all the time. The large scowling demon had to lean over even when he was inside because he was so tall. A much smaller figure  walked in right behind him looking just as angry. He was young but only in appearance. You knew his looks were deceiving and the other looked so unusual because-

They were both clones. Extensions of your husband. 

But these clones weren't really common. In fact you barely if ever saw them in the entire time you've been married to your husband. Resentment and Hatred weren't really two emotions that really bubbled to the surface too often.

"None of your business, Woman!"

You leaned back taken by surprise by the harsh tone from the larger man before the other looked at him with a harder scowl to his face.

"Shut your mouth, you overgrown mules ass!" He hissed back which made the other hiss back. "You will not utter a fucking sentence like that towards her again less I rip your tongue out through your throat!"

"Boys, don't fight." You gently lowered the cleaver until it laid upon the cutting board. Although you were secretly happy to know that you'd be defended by some part of your husband. "I only ask because usually it's not the two of you I see. Oh no. Did something bad happen?"

"Nothing we couldn't handle."

"Those dammed Haishira! That's what!" Urami threw up his hands almost hard enough to punch holes into your ceiling. "If Zohakutan had just done his dam job in the first place then I wouldn't have to be bothered with this!"

Zohakutan fully turned to him now snapping his scowl up! "I WAS THE ONE THAT KILLED THE DAMMED HAISHIRA !! All you've done was run away like a dog- No! A BITCH WITH YOUR TAIL BETWEEN YOUR LEGS YOU GIANT WALKING JACKASS!!"

"OH YOU FUCKING BRAT!! THAT'S LARGE TALK CONSIDERING YOU COULDN'T KILL HIM THE FIRST TIME!!"

You looked back and forth between the two as they shouted at one another. Now you know why they didn't come out too often. Sigh.

"I DID KILL HIM YOU WALKING SACK OF SHI-!!"

"SEKIDO AND THE OTHERS DIDN'T!!"

"IM NOT THEM!!"

"IT TAKES THE FOUR OF THEM TO MAKE YOU SO YOU STILL FAILED!!"

"THAT DOESN'T COUNT!!"

"YES IT DOES!!"

"NO IT DOESN'T!"

"BOYS!!" You're shout echoed throughout the home.

"WHAT!?""WHAT?!

Both of them snapped to your tired stare. A sigh left your mouth before your hand just grabbed the cleaver again and steadied the next chunk of meat.

"Why don't you both just come sit down for dinner? I have raw steak cutlets for you and rice for me." The cleaver made another loud THUNK sound as it collided with the wooden cutting block and slicing a thick chunk of beef in two.

Both instantly looked interested."Raw steak?"

You nodded. "I've been working all day slaving away to clean your house and make you dinner and all I get in return is the both of you arguing like children!" A scowl was thrown their way before you pointed the cleaver at them point, not in a threatening way but to just show a point of your current work. "Now BOTH of you shut up and go sit down before I rip Hantengu out of Urami's heart and feed him all of this instead!"

The two didn't say or do anything at this until they both shot each other the harshest scowls and walked into the kitchen making you sigh in relief. You thought you heard Urami mumble some kind of cursing under his breath but at least they stopped fighting..for now.

It was quite a handful having so many husbands.

[haosweater]

waiting in the rain

content: student! seonghwa x gn! reader, fluff, angst. inspired by my neighbour totoro’s setting. warnings: mentions and descriptions of death, some swearing, description of a panic attack.

summary: you and seonghwa were determined to get out of the dreary town you lived in and move to the city. unfortunately, sometimes things just don’t go as planned.

word count: 3.3k

note: another angst with hwa in it… no, i do not enjoy making hwa stans feel pain. i enjoy hurting everyone. get it right. (i started this back in 2021 and finished it today so it’s not proof read. forgive me)

it was raining again.

staring up at the sky, you hold your umbrella steadily. the transparent film allowed you to see how beautiful the sky was. white clouds float by slowly, their mystical tears staining the earth as a reminder of their ethereal presence.

your small village was close knit, but sometimes, suffocating. the villagers led humble lives as farmers, carpenters, florist, bus drivers– everyone was content with their simple lives. well, everyone except you and—

“y/n!”

you crane your neck to the right and smile. the rain patters gently against your skin, puddles surrounding you. there was not a single car in sight, the delightful smell of rain in the air. nature thrived in your small town– your home.

that pink hair is a familiar yet comforting sight. it’s accompanied with the scent of honey and mint, a melodic voice that would make even the coldest of hearts melt. his eyes shone like the fireflies at night, smile as sweet as the flowers in his parent’s own garden. park seonghwa was the definition of perfection. well, at least to you, he was.

you and seonghwa had this little habit that everyone in the village knew about.

every morning before school, you would meet him at the bus stop behind the small stream near your house. it had been that way ever since you were five; holding hands as you walk to school merrily, basking in each other’s warm presence.

“seonghwa!” you shouted, waving at him enthusiastically as he ran up and hugged you tight. “i’ve been waiting for like, more than y en minutes, where were you?”

seonghwa giggles. “sorry! i took a shortcut that joong suggested, but it took longer than i expected.”

you feign annoyance, huffing as you crossed your arms. “come on, y/n,” he whines. “forgive me, please? i have a special place to bring you to today.”

“what is it?” you ask, curiosity getting the best of you. seonghwa grins, putting a finger against his lips. “a secret? really, hwa?” you roll your eyes.

“be patient,” he nags, grabbing your hand and pulling you into the forest. you can’t help but smile, looking adoringly at your best friend.

seonghwa pulled you through the forest, helping you climb the slopes swiftly. the sounds of critters and bugs filled the air, fitting for the environment you were in. it was a peaceful journey, enjoying each other’s presence, basking in the warm sunlight. a comforting feeling filled your heart, putting a smile on your face.

you trudged across the river carefully as seonghwa laughed, splashing water at you. “hey!” you shouted, sending a splash of water his way as he shrieked. “get back here, park seonghwa!”

“catch me if you can!” he stuck his tongue out at you childishly. scooping a handful of water up, you chase after the boy, water dripping down your arms. many would fail to believe you were both almost eighteen.

tossing the water at him, you giggle in delight when he yelps, trying to run off. “oh gosh, that’s cold,” he shivers as you scoff, dismissing him.

“stop being so dramatic, hwa. you’re not going to die,” you lament as he laughs, shaking his head. “anyways, where’s this place you wanted to bring me to?”

“right here.”

you follow his gaze, and gasp in awe. the sight before you is absolutely gorgeous– an entire field of forget-me-nots. the small, baby blue flowers swayed gently in the wind, as if putting on a dance for you.

“oh my god, hwa,” you can feel the grin on his face. “this is beautiful.”

he takes your hand, fingers intertwining with yours to pull you along. “come,” he encourages you with the gentlest voice ever. “there’s so much more to see.”

the field of flowers smelt like heaven to you. it was as if you were in heaven. you weren’t complaining– seonghwa was your guardian angel and really the only person you needed in this life.

“oh, is is absolutely magical,” you say, spinning around. “how on earth did you find this place?” you ask as he giggles. oh, his giggle is a soft melody that prances in the wind like a dandelion. it’s soft, sweet, ethereal– you wanted to bathe in it forever.

his smile is a breath of fresh air. “i just happened to stumble upon it one day after school. it’s like another world, isn’t it?” his gazes into the horizon with a smile. he looks down at you, eyes filled with care and love. “i don’t know how i got so lucky.”

you blush at those words, quickly looking away. seonghwa truly knew how to render you speechless. before you could process anything further, seonghwa grabbed your hand and pulled you along.

“dance with me, y/n!”

it was like you were dreaming. your feet moved clumsily along with seonghwa’s, trying to keep up. he held your hand and spun you around, giggling as you held onto his arms tightly. “don’t drop me!” you squeak as he dipped you down.

his face was extremely close as he leaned to press his forehead against you. “i’d never even dream of dropping you,” as you bathed in the warmth of the sun. you never wanted to wake up from this dream.

after prancing around in the flower field for a few hours, giggling and whispering sweet nothings to each other, you and seonghwa had to part ways.

“must you go?” you ask, a hint of sadness in your voice.

he gives you a soft, yet sad smile. “it’s okay, y/n,” he caress your cheek with the back of his hand. “i’ll see you again soon.” he pulls you into a hug and you melt into it, nuzzling your face into the crook of his neck. he smelled like vanilla and strawberries, a sweet concoction that made you dizzy with delight.

you pull away and try to mask your disappointment with a smile. he chuckles, ruffling your hair in a playful manner.

slinging your bag over your shoulder, you turn and wave to him. the boy waves back, walking further and further down the road. even after the pink of his hair disappears into the fog, you stare into the abyss.

“y/n?”

you spin around, surprised by the two voices you hear behind you. “oh! joong! yunho!” you smile as they wave at you. “what are you guys doing here?”

the blue haired male shrugged, stealing some chips from the taller boy who sent him a glare. “hey, y/n. school ended early today so we were on our way to that new cafe that opened,” yunho explained, offering you some chips.

“oh, shit, wait a minute,” hongjoong grumbled as he fished through his bag hurriedly. “we got our exam results today.”

yunho snickered at the elder male’s frantic behaviour. “our poor class president here was tasked to hand you your papers,” he nudged hongjoong who threw him a glare.

“where were you today, y/n?” hongjoong asked, handing you a stack of papers. “you got the highest marks for literature again,” he winked at you, pushing his thick-framed glasses up.

yunho sighs. “yeah, and i failed math. again,” he kicks a rock into the stream, watching as it sinks. “fantastic.”

you giggle “i was out in the forest with seonghwa the whole day,” you grin at the two boys. “we ended up venturing deeper past the stream and found a whole field of forget-me-nots.”

the taller male shoots you a confused look, shoving his hand into the packet of chips. hongjoong sighs and glances behind you. “y/n–”

“oh! i need to get home!” you glance at your watch. “my parents are going to kill me if i’m out past curfew. see you guys tomorrow!” you shout while running off as hongjoong let out a deep sigh.

“what on earth was she talking about? is she still…?” yunho’s voice trailed off.

hongjoong looks up at him, unsure. “yeah. i don’t know how to… i don’t…” he sighs yet again as yunho pats his shoulder.

“we’ll figure it out, hyung,” the brunette says softly. “it’ll take time, you of all people should know that.”

the older male can only bite his lip and nod, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill. he knew all too well. truth be told, he hated that he knew it.

it’ll take time.

the next day, you woke up excitedly, hoping it would be a sunny morning. the soft pitter patter of rain disappointed you, but still, you got up.

you still got up.

as you got dressed, you texted seonghwa, informing him that you would be waiting at the bus stop. it was sort of dreary, really. that road was particularly hard to navigate in the rain, but you both knew it well enough– it was the road you trudged along every day.

opening your umbrella, you bid farewell to your parents before skipping out the door. the rain didn’t diminish your spirits. sure, a thick coat of melancholy rested upon your soul, but your heart reigned over it.

you skipped over puddles, skillfully avoiding the splashes cars speeding by created. humming a soft tune, you looked up at the sky with a smile. everything was going to be okay, as long as seonghwa was there. you knew it’d be okay.

as you approach the bus stop, you spot a figure standing near it. with a grin, you begin to walk faster, calling out your friend’s name. the rain was a extremely persistent, however, easily overpowering your voice. you inhaled a deep breath, ready to shout his name again, but stop.

instead of the usual pink hair, you see a head of blue.

hongjoong.

“what are you doing here, joong?” you ask, approaching slowly. he doesn’t reply, and you think he hadn’t heard you.

so you move even closer, about to call out to him again. it’s only when you kick a puddle of water, drenching your shoes that you realise hongjoong is standing in the rain, absolutely drenched. “hongjoong!” you stand up and grab his wrist. “you’re going to get sick!”

before you can do anything, he pulls you towards him instead. dropping your umbrella, you feel the rain begin to soak you, the cold feeling of water dripping down your skin engulfing you whole.

you let out a gasp, about to glare at the boy, but don’t. hongjoong was crying.

“j-joong?” you stutter out in shock. “what’s going on? why are you crying?”

“i’m sorry.”

hongjoong’s voice comes out as a whisper. he sounds so small, so meek, so timid– it genuinely terrifies you. never had hongjoong shown such a vulnerable side of himself.

“i’m sorry, i’m sorry, i’m sorry,” he wails, knees giving out. “i’m sorry, y/n– it’s all my fault, i’m so sorry.”

his nails dig into your skin as he gasps for air. confused, you were trying to make sense of what hongjoong was saying. what was his fault?

what had hongjoong done that weighed so painfully on his conscious? why was such a bitter confession slipping off his tongue, to fill only your ears? a deep, profoundly vile feeling filled your throat.

your vision strayed from hongjoong.

when did the path look so dreary? so dark and lonely? this road was one that had filled your memories with joy, comfort, love and warmth. the sight of your best friend running down the gravel, careful to not slip clouded your mind. his pink hair bounced softly, his mere presence more radiating than the sun itself. the droplets of rain running down his face, that contagious, goofy grin of his— that was what you saw when you looked down this road, and yet… and yet it looked so different now. what had changed—

“he’s not coming back, he’s gone— he’s dead, y/n, and it’s all my fault!’

hongjoong’s wails startle you slightly. you’d never heard him sound so broken like that. “what are you talking about, hongjoong?” you say ever-so gently, taking his calloused hands into yours. he is almost inconsolable, his sobs and wails echoing alongside the soft pattering of rain.

the blue-haired boy looked up at you, cupping your cheeks in his hands. “seonghwa is gone, y/n,” hongjoong’s voice is raspy, dry and aching. “please, y/n, you have to realise that he is gone.”

you sigh, rubbing your thumb gently over his knuckles. pushing his hair back, he sobs even harder. you allow him to muzzle his face into the crook of your neck, his tears staining your skin. the clouds thundered and roared at you both, as denial seeped deep into your veins.

no, seonghwa wasn’t gone.

“oh, joong, he’s not gone,” you whisper, stroking his head gently. “he’s taking the shortcut you showed him here–”

“no, y/n– he dead!”

hongjoong’s voice rang in your ear as he pushed you back. you look at him, the way he trembled from the cold. “he fell into the river along the shortcut i showed him and drowned, y/n! he’s dead!”

everything was a blur for a moment. the world went silent. the rain ceased. even hongjoong disappeared. nothing seemed to matter, except processing what he had just said.

seonghwa was dead.

“n-no,” you stutter out, a migraine beginning to form at the side of your head. “no, joong, you must be mistaken,” you blurt out, laughing nervously. “i just saw hwa yesterday–”

“y/n, please,” joong begged, holding your hands tightly. “he died last month, y/n, you need to accept that. he’s gone.

flashbacks. a flurry of memories came crashing onto you at the speed of light as you winced, grabbing your head in pain. the funeral, the crying, the coldness, the pain, the loneliness, the grief– it all came crashing down.

“no,” you whispered, clawing at your scalp. “no, no, no, hwa,” you gasped as hongjoong sobbed. “oh my god, no, this can’t be!” you shout, looking at your friend, hoping this was just a sick joke.

the look on his face told you it wasn’t.

staring at him, your body felt numb yet completely overwhelmed at the same time. your heart pounded against your chest, words stuck at the back of your throat. you didn’t know what to say, nor what to do.

so you ran.

hongjoong’s voice trailed off as you sped down the forest path. you ran as fast as your feet could carry you. as you passed the river, you glance at it, the image of seonghwa’s face flashing in your mind. you wince, tears streaming down your face as you pulled your gaze away.

you continued to run. the sounds of twigs snapped under your weight, leaves rustled as you ran through the woods. your chest heaved as you struggled to breathe, completely exhausted.

and yet, you kept running. you refused to stop. you refused to stop until you saw it. you refused to stop until you got to–

you stopped.

the flower field.

“seonghwa!” you shouted, tears streaming down your cheeks. you were breathless, sweat dripping down your forehead. “park seonghwa!”

the desperation laced in your voice was heart-wrenching. it was raw and scratchy, and painful. you spun from left to right, praying that when you turned around, seonghwa would be standing there, alive and well.

unfortunately, you only got half of what you wished for.

seonghwa stood before you. pink hair, pink lips, soft and kind eyes– indeed, that was park seonghwa.

but he was not alive.

you cannot stand to look at him. you choke back a sob, hand clamping over your mouth as you turn away. you knew that if you looked at him, you wouldn’t be able to control your tears.

“you have to let me go, y/n.”

it’s funny how his words sounded so different despite its familiarity. you turn to your left and stare at the pink haired boy who smiles, tears streaming down his ghostly pale cheeks.

“you need to let me go.”

damp cheeks. quivering lips. fists clenched so hard, they turned white. the air was still, tension thick. it was hard to breathe. you held seonghwa’s hands tightly, worried that he’d slip away the moment you let go.

“how can i?” you whisper, tears blurring your vision. “i can’t let you go, hwa. not when i’ve spent my whole life with you. how do i live this new life when all i’ve known is one with you?”

the boy smiles. it’s a sad, pitiful smile. you hate it. “you need to, y/n. i’ll always be here– in the trees, the flowers, the breeze,” he trails off. “in your heart.”

“but i need you here with me,” you sob. “how am i to go on without you? i’d wait in the rain for you forever, hwa. i cannot live without you.”

the tears that rolled down hwa’s cheeks shone like stars. “you’ll have to learn, y/n. time will heal you,” his breath is shaky and uncertain. “i’m sorry,” he whispers, hands cupping your cheeks.

you shake your head, putting your hands over his. “no, don’t apologise. please,” you beg, looking up at him. you stared into his eyes, biting your lip to stop it from trembling.

his thumb brushes against your lip gently, eyebrows furrowed. “don’t do that,” he whispered. “you’re hurting yourself.”

your grip on his shirt tightened as you stare into his eyes. god, how could fate be so cruel? why would the gods curse you with such tragic destiny?

the boy wiped your tears away, his own tears slowly rolling down his cheeks. you nuzzled your face into his hands, your gaze filled with desperation and desire.

with that, seonghwa swooped down and kissed you.

you held onto him tightly, kissing him back with the desperation that clung to you so desperately. he tasted divine– like white chocolate and strawberries.

you could feel his tears fall, your own following suite, but you refused to pull away. this is something you had wanted for the longest time, and you weren’t about to let it slip away.

alas, all good things have to end. you panted, forehead pressed against his. “don’t go, hwa,” you plead. “please.”

he lets out a sad laugh, pressing a kiss to your forehead in an attempt to console you. “i have to, y/n,” he hums. “i’ll see you again soon, okay?”

you look up frantically at the sight of seonghwa fading away. “no! hwa, please, please!” you cry out, grasping onto him.. “what about all our plans, hwa? to leave this place? to get an apartment in the city? to live our life to the fullest together forever? what about all that?”

seonghwa was full on sobbing now, trying to hold onto you as well. “i’m sorry, y/n. i’m sorry, please hold me,” he begged and you hugged him tightly. “i love you, y/n,” he confesses. “god, i love you. you are the light of my life– my god-given solace. you’re my soulmate, y/n, and i’m so, so sorry. please forgive me– god, please.”

“seonghwa,” you whimper, holding onto him as he finally faded away. he had become one with the wind, the earth, the water– he was gone.

park seonghwa, your best friend, soulmate, and love of your life, was gone.

you let out a chocked sob, knees giving way as you fell to the ground. your pants were soaked with rain water and mud, but you couldn’t be bothered.

“i didn’t get to tell you i love you too.”

as the rain began to fall once again, you sat at the bus stop behind the stream. this small town was once a place you and seonghwa had always dreamed of leaving, but now you knew.

this dreary small town of yours, would consume your soul, as it did, his.

[bella-rose29]

Deck the Halls (and not your partner) - part 12

it's here everybody

I just want to say a HUGE thank you to everybody that has read and enjoyed along with me, whether that was in the form of reblogging with commentary, leaving a comment or kudos, or even if you just read it and moved on, and to everyone who binge read after the whole thing came out, or stumbled across it months after it finished, thank you to you too. this has most definitely been a labour of love, very self-indulgent at most points, and I have thoroughly enjoyed writing every word (although maybe not so much when Steph was being a grade-A Bitch), and I hope you enjoy this last part!

while the main work of this series is over, keep an eye out for holiday specials (bc I can't just let go of my schmoopies forever)!

Warnings: swearing, mildly spicy bit near the start, you might cry from this being the finale (I did lol), flustered/awkward lockwood, oh you also might cry from the part in the middle/end because I'm evil and can't let you have a fully happy ending (@ the anon who requested this hopefully this satisfied the masochistic urge hehehe), if I forgot anything it's bc I'm tired while I write this

Word count: 6.3k

series masterlist

“Are you sure you’ve got everything? It’s a long way to go if you leave something behind,” Ben said, peering in on Anthony and Y/n where they sat in their loveseat. 

They had packed pretty much everything but their wash bags (which they would need tomorrow morning) and pyjamas (which they would wear tonight), and now they were cuddled up in front of the fire that was roaring in the hearth. “Yeah, I think so. I’ve checked and double checked so if we leave anything behind then we’ll just have to make do.” Her father nodded, smiling at them before ducking back out the room. Everybody else was gathered in the kitchen, making drinks and getting dinner (leftovers and an assortment of deli), which meant that Y/n and Anthony had the living room to themselves. “You alright?” she asked, voice quiet. He hummed in answer, the low sound vibrating in his chest and through her head where it laid on his shoulder. 

“I’m more than alright, darling. Looking forward to being home again, though. Not that I haven’t enjoyed the last few days,” he hurried to add. “I just miss sleeping in my own bed.”

“I get that.” There was a momentary lull in the conversation, both of them basking in the warmth of the fire and each other. “Wait. I feel like we should probably… talk about when we get back? And what… what we’re going to do about…” she trailed off, waving her free hand between them. 

“No, you’re right. We should… we should definitely talk about that.” Another lull, although this one was slightly more tense. “I mean-” Anthony cut himself off with a huff, and she felt him clench his jaw from where she was nestled underneath it. “If you wanted, you could move out of the attic? Obviously if you’d rather stay rooming with Lucy then that’s fine too, I just-”

“Where would I go if I wasn’t in the attic?” She cut him off when he started to ramble, lifting up her head to frown at him. He flushed a delightful pink that wasn’t too dissimilar from the socks he had on, and opened and closed his mouth a few times before turning even more red and answering. 

“In… in my room? It’s a big bed, although not quite as large as the one here, and I’ve got extra pillows if you wanted. But if you would rather stay upstairs then that’s fine too.” He was fidgeting, his leg bouncing and his tongue darting out to wet his lips, and Y/n smiled softly. 

“If you’re sure you don’t mind?”

“Of course I don’t mind, darling.” The blush stayed on his cheeks but his worry eased. “I wouldn’t have offered if I didn’t want you there.”

“Then… when we get back tomorrow, can I just go straight to bed with you?”

“Absolutely,” he grinned, and she couldn’t help but mirror his smile, pressing a small kiss to his lips. 

“Ew, go suck faces somewhere else.” Y/n rolled her eyes at Will’s teasing tone, flipping her middle finger up at him and putting it away swiftly when Tom walked in, already snacking on the food on his plate. She hadn’t heard Will come in, which was quite the feat given how loudly he was chewing, but he was smiling behind his comments as he settled into an armchair. He was ecstatic that he could openly tease his younger sister now (much to her chagrin) and had wasted no time in doing so. “Bet you two are glad you’re going home?”

“Yeah. It’ll be nice to be back in London, I think,” she replied, shifting around in Anthony’s lap to face the room a little more. “And I miss the others. I did call George the other day after we booked our train tickets, just to let him know what was happening and when we’d be back, but the reception is so bad up here that contacting any of the others has been tricky.” Lucy had been somewhere near them visiting Norrie, but her signal had been awful too. Y/n hadn’t seen the point in calling when mostly it was just static. 

“I didn’t realise you’d called George,” Anthony said. 

“Oh, yeah. I knew he’d be at Portland Row so I figured I should let him know why we weren’t there. He said he wasn’t gonna spend the entire holiday with his family because of the whole ‘your siblings are engineers, so why aren’t you’ thing that always happens.” George had been the first friend that Y/n had opened up to, despite sharing a room with Lucy. They had been researching for a case together in the Archives late into the night, early on after Y/n had first joined the agency, and something about the calm atmosphere and rustle of the papers had meant that when George asked about her backstory in a tea break she had spilled it all. Lucy had been next, also late at night while the boys were on their own case, and Holly not too long after. But George had been the first, and the two of them had been close ever since. He’d opened up to her about his own family, and they’d found they had more in common than they had originally thought. 

“Well, it’s a good job you called. I imagine he would have been quite worried about us.”

“Us? No, George was definitely only worried about me. He didn’t once ask about you.”

“Rude.”

“I’m just telling the truth, it’s not my fault your ego can’t handle it,” Y/n teased. Anthony scoffed, fighting the smile that was breaking through. 

“Sure, Schmoopie.” Her responding glare would have been enough to make even Barnes shrink back, but Anthony could see that it lacked any heat when directed at him. 

He did yelp when she jabbed him in the side though, and her grin turned devilish. 

~~~

The next morning, Anthony was awake before Y/n was. 

At some point in the night she had obviously grown cold, as the duvet was bunched up more on her side than it was his, leaving most of his body out in the not-so-warm air of the bedroom. He didn’t mind, though. Not if it meant that she was happy. 

He didn’t often get the chance to admire her in the morning, not without her knowing he was doing it (not in a creepy way, it just meant that he often got caught and she often made fun of him), so he took his time now. 

He didn’t think he would ever get over how gorgeous she was. 

There was barely any light in the room, but from what little he could see she looked like an angel, especially in the t-shirt of his that she kept stealing. He didn’t mind that either, mostly because somehow she made it look so much better than he ever could. Anthony wasn’t a fool (although given his behaviour over the past few years there was definitely a strong argument against him), and he was well aware that Y/n knew the effect her wearing his clothes had on him. He’d had to excuse the two of them the other day when she’d come downstairs for breakfast wearing his grey hoodie and her pyjama shorts, and when they reemerged from their room nobody commented on the flushed faces or the messy hair of either of them (Y/n had stayed in the hoodie, too). She’d teased him mercilessly since finding out, and now he finally had an opportunity to gaze lovingly at her without her poking fun at him. 

“Morning.” Damn, he must have cursed himself and made her wake up. 

“Good morning, darling.” He smiled at her, wedging his arm under his head while he watched her wipe the sleep from her eyes and turn to face him. “Did you sleep alright?”

“Yeah. Like a log. You been awake long?” She reached out for his hand where it rested on the pillow between them, and he gladly let her thread her fingers through his. 

“Not really. Any good dreams?” There was a pause where she flushed, and Anthony’s curiosity only grew when she shook her head. 

“Not… not that I can think of.” She was avoiding his eyes, which meant she was lying. He smiled, huffing a laugh before shifting his weight. 

“Are you sure, darling?”

“Prick.” He laughed properly at that and propped himself up on an elbow. Y/n had covered her face with her hands to hide the rapidly growing flush, and she was shrinking further into the mattress with every passing second. “It wasn’t even- we were just, like… in a field.”

“What?”

“We were just having a picnic in a field. It was sweet.” She still hadn’t moved her hands so Anthony had to strain a little to hear what she was saying, but the amusement was very present in his voice when he next spoke. 

“So why are you acting like we were doing something else?” There was another pause, and he raised his eyebrows. “Were we doing something else?”

“It might… have ended up that way…”

“I see,” he said, moving again to prevent the arm under his head from falling asleep. Instead of lying back down, however, he pushed himself further up, placing one hand beside Y/n’s head and the other at her waist, slotting a leg between her thighs. He felt her shiver in response, and he gently pried her hands away from her face, lacing his fingers through hers and holding their joined hands in position on the other side of her head. 

“Anthony,” she whispered, lifting her hips a little and brushing her nose against his. 

“Yes?” He could feel her breath on his mouth, could feel it hitch when he let go of her hand to trail his own down her arm slowly, then tracing a path down the side of her body to her thigh. She didn’t answer him, instead reaching up to grab the back of his neck, tangling her fingers in the hair there (god, he loved it when she did that) and kissing him in a way that reminded him of honey. It was long and slow, both taking their time to bask in each other, although if she kept tugging lightly at his hair in the way that she was then he might have to speed the pace up a little. It was ridiculous, the power she held over him, but he wouldn’t have it any other way. If she was an angel, then he would gladly fall into hell a million times over for this little piece of paradise he was experiencing right now. 

He wasn’t sure how long they were there for, kissing, laughing softly when the t-shirt got stuck around her head, tangling limbs but never taking it further than a few bold touches just in case someone walked in with the morning tea, but it felt like barely a few seconds and eternity at the same time. 

When Ben did eventually knock on the door, Anthony went to answer, collecting the teas with a smile and a thank you before kicking the door closed. He smiled down at Y/n where she lay in bed, eyes closed to the light of the lamp that had just been flicked on, and planted a lingering kiss on her forehead. The action had her smiling immediately, and Anthony felt his heart jump in his chest. 

They spent most of the next hour lazing in bed, trading more kisses and soft touches before their stomachs started complaining and they were forced to get up and have breakfast. 

A million times, Anthony mused as he watched Y/n get stuck in her (his) jumper. A million times and more, and he had definitely fallen for her already. 

~~~

“Alright, you’re absolutely sure you have everything?”

“Yes, Mum, just like I was the previous six times you asked.”

“I just want to be sure! Who knows when we’ll next see you!” The statement hung in the air for a few seconds, the words sinking in and nestling into everybody’s minds. 

“Soon,” Y/n said, her tone decisive. “As long as Steph and Linda aren’t there.”

“I think I can live with that,” her mother grinned. Anthony and her father had been pulling their bags out of the car and were just now rejoining the gathered family members. Her parents were here, as was Will, but everybody else had stayed behind. They had said their goodbyes back at the house, with promises of phone calls for Nana Jean and Gramps and games of whatever Tom liked the most when she next saw him. Olivia had pretended to be indifferent about her sister leaving, but had squeezed just that little bit tighter when Y/n had said that she really needed to go. Y/n had pretended not to notice the slight shine to Olivia’s eyes, opting to ruffle her hair and laugh instead. Sam and John had wrapped her in hugs so tight she thought she might pass out before even stepping foot outside the house, and had left one last remark of ‘if you hurt her, we’ll kill you’ with Anthony before waving them off cheerfully as though they hadn’t just threatened murder. 

“Right then, Squeak. How long ’till your train?” Will asked, placing an arm over her shoulders and drawing her into his side. 

“About thirty minutes?”

“Why do you always get here so early? You could have had another cup of tea!”

“Uh, no, we couldn’t. Have you got any idea how much can go wrong with trains?!” Will just laughed at her, shaking his head in disbelief. 

“You’re ridiculous, Squeak.”

“You love me anyway though.”

Their parents stepped over then, having finished talking to Anthony about… whatever they had been talking about (she had been too busy with her conversation with Will to hear), and wrapped her in a teary hug. “You promise you’ll come back sometime next year?” her mother choked out, pulling back and holding her daughter by the shoulders. 

“Promise, Mum.” Her father hugged her then, letting Will comfort Emma. 

“I love you, Y/n. You’ll call us too, won’t you?”

“Of course,” she replied, huffing a laugh. “I already said I would about a hundred times.”

“We’re just making sure! Right. Off you two go, then, or you’ll miss your train.”

“Ben, they’ve got half an hour.”

“I know that, Emma, but what if something goes wrong?”

“Dad, please don’t jinx it. I’ll let you know when we’re back, alright?” She moved away, grabbing the handle of her suitcase and frowning when she felt Anthony’s hand already there. “I can take my own luggage, Ant.”

He shrugged. “I know. But I’ve got two hands and you have the tickets.”

“Your logic doesn’t make much sense; I also have two hands. And anyway, you could have your bag and your ticket, and I could have mine!”

“Just- just let me take your luggage, darling.” How could she say no when he was looking at her like that? She relented her grasp on the handle, casting him a mock glare before turning to look at her family one last time. 

“Have a safe journey, you two,” her mother said with a smile. 

“Yeah, get back home safe,” Y/n responded, starting to move towards the station entrance. She could hear Anthony behind her, the suitcase wheels dragging on the concrete while his repurposed kit bag bounced against his side. 

“You alright?” he asked once they were on the train, bags safely stowed. 

“Yeah. Looking forward to being home again.” It was funny, really. The last time she had been on a train she would have scowled at herself for calling Anthony Lockwood’s house her home, but now here she was, doing it without a second thought. 

“What are we going to tell the others?”

“Well… it’ll be late when we get back, right? I mean it’s already three o’clock now and it’s getting darker, so maybe by the time we get in they’ll be in bed? Or on a case if they managed to get a client. We could just do what you said and see how long it takes them?”

“I think you coming out of my bedroom in the morning would be a pretty big hint, darling. But I do love a game,” he grinned, already thinking about their friends’ reactions. “How do we think they’re going to respond?”

“Not a clue. George will probably say ‘I told you so’ or something.”

“Was… was that meant to be an impression of George?”

“Yeah?”

“Darling, no offence, but I think you might be worse than me.”

“Arsehole.”

~~~

It was dark when they got back, although that wasn’t a surprise given it was the middle of winter. 

Anthony had unloaded the bags from the taxi, smiling and thanking the driver with both words and payment, and had turned around to see Y/n stood on the pavement. She looked exhausted, rubbing her eyes and yawning while she waited for him to finish up. The gate stood locked, and 35 Portland Row seemed empty, the windows as dark and grey as the sky. 

Weird, he thought. Maybe they’re out on a case.

He shouldered his bag and pulled up the handle on Y/n’s suitcase just as the last of the noise from the taxi leaving died off and the road went quiet. Then he heard a scream that was so piercing he dropped the luggage and clapped his hands over his ears, squeezing his eyes shut as though it would save his hearing. A ghost? Only Visitors could make a sound that fear-inducing, and if the chill that crept along his spine was anything to go by he would need some sort of weapon. Maybe their best bet was to get inside the house, so he reached for his keys and tried to block out the screaming. 

His keys. 

Shit, where were his keys? He looked up to see if Y/n was alright, if she had maybe had the wise idea to remove herself from possible danger before he did, and his heart stopped in his chest. 

The gate was still closed, and 35 Portland Row still empty and cold. Somehow it felt a whole lot darker than it had just a few moments ago, and Anthony belatedly realised that it might have something to do with the rapidly spreading blue tinge on Y/n’s arm. He couldn’t see any Visitors nearby, or any death glows that might have been stepped on by either one of them to provoke an attack, but all of that had happened so fast that he didn’t have time to process any of it. “Darling? Darling look at me.” He couldn’t hide the tremor in his voice when he spoke, memories of another time a girl he had loved died in much the same way, and he refused to let that happen again. “Let’s get you inside, yeah? There’s some adrenaline shots in the hallway, I just need you to stand up for me, darling. Y/n, please. Please, just stand up.” Why was she so heavy? Why was he so heavy? Was this what dying felt like?

“Anthony?” 

Why did her voice sound so far away? No. He couldn’t let this happen. He tried to lift her again, but somehow she was even heavier than before. Maybe he was tired, or too weak. 

“Anthony, what’s going on?” Her face was blurring and he realised that it was because he was crying, but his hands were too weighted to lift and wipe the tears away. 

“I don’t know,” he muttered, his voice cracking. “I don’t know, darling. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. You’ll be okay.”

“Anthony!” 

That had been louder, as though she were talking right into his ear, and he gasped for air and sat bolt upright. 

“Anthony, are you okay? You looked-”

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, eyes blinking back the harsh light that threatened to turn him blind. 

“What are you sorry for?”

“I can’t… I can’t help you,” his breath was coming faster now, and vaguely he noted that there was someone nearby offering him water. His gaze was solely fixed on Y/n, though, and-

Wait. Hadn’t she been on the floor? Now she was on his left where before she had been on his right and in his arms, and her arms were the colour they always were, no blue tinge in sight. “Anthony, what were you dreaming about?”

He stared at her, partly in realisation that none of it had been real, but mostly in disbelief that she wasn’t dying in his arms in front of their home. “What?” The train carriage came back into focus, checkered seats and wooden table forming solid shapes in his line of vision. The view out the windows was barely visible from how dark it was. 

“You were asleep, and then you started… I don’t know. Twitching, I guess? And you were talking but I couldn’t make it out but you sounded really sad, and-” He cut her off by launching himself at her, wrapping his arms around her torso and burying his face in her neck and holding his breath. “Ant?” She paused, slowly bringing her own arms around him and shifting position so that she was more comfortable. “Are… are you breathing right now? I’m gonna need you to breathe for me, Ant, can you do that?”

He did, and immediately choked on a sob. It hadn’t been real, and she was alive. They sat there for a long time while he cried, and then even longer after his tears had subsided and he was just sniffling into her neck. He didn’t know whereabouts they had been when he first woke up, but Y/n finally moved him off of her the station before theirs. “Sorry, just need to shake my arm out. You’re heavier than you look, you know.” They both sat up, and Anthony went to take a tissue out of his coat pocket. “Here,” Y/n whispered, reaching up to wipe his face with her sleeve. Her hands were gentle, barely-there touches on his cheek, but Anthony needed more. He pushed her hand to his face, focusing on the pressure and the warmth of her skin, and the callouses that had built up from being an agent all these years. A few seconds later he felt her forehead against his, and her breath on his mouth (her breath was warm too), and her other hand slipping into his hair, holding him as close as possible. “You’re okay. It’s okay. We’ll be back soon, alright? I think it’s only about ten minutes until we get to our station and then we can call a taxi and go home.”

“Okay.” Whoever it was that had been offering water earlier had left the bottle on the table, and he reached for it now, twisting the cap and downing the liquid. “We’ll be careful once we get out though, right? Because it’s dark and there could be Visitors, and we don’t have our rapiers, and-”

“Anthony, we will be absolutely fine.” Her tone was firm and she pulled his chin up to stare directly in his eyes. “The taxi will drop us off right outside, and if you like I’ll take the keys and get the kettle on. Or you can do that and I’ll get the bags, or we can get our own bags and go up together. Whichever you feel most comfortable with, yeah?” When he nodded she sighed, letting go of his chin and holding his hand instead. “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to. But if you do, I’m here, alright?”

“I know. Thank you.”

He didn’t let go of her hand until they were safely back in 35 Portland Row, front door shut and locked and bags in his room ready to be unpacked in the morning. 

~~~

Lucy Carlyle had had the best sleep of her life. 

She’d come back from seeing Norrie the day before, the freak snowstorm keeping her from getting back sooner, and the journey had been so horrific she’d passed out the moment she got into bed. Screaming children and drunk men had populated the carriage, creating so much noise that she hadn’t been able to go to sleep on the train, and she was starting to look like Lockwood with the bags under her eyes. 

Now it was nearly midday, and she had managed to crawl out of bed, sling on some clothes, and stumble down the stairs to put the kettle on for some tea. 

Given how late Lockwood and Y/n must have got back last night (it had been after her, and the clock in the hall had shown a time that was both far too late and far too early for her liking), she had been expecting them, as well as George, to be in bed. But then again Y/n hadn’t been in the attic with her when she’d woken up just now (although her vision had been rather blurry, so she totally could have missed a whole human being in the room), so maybe she was already downstairs?

What she hadn’t expected was walking in to the kitchen to see both Y/n and Lockwood having a normal conversation (well, as normal as conversations in this house could go, she was quite sure they were discussing frogs), in which neither of them was glaring or looking like they would commit a felony at any given moment. Lockwood was leaning back against the kitchen sink (looking very snug in his grey hoodie and comfy trousers), mug of tea in one hand while the other braced his weight on the counter, and he was chatting happily to Y/n (who was wearing what looked suspiciously like one of Lockwood’s jumpers). She was sat at the kitchen table, cupping her tea with both hands, and the smile on her face, Lucy realised with a start, was genuine. 

“… Morning?” She started, pushing the kitchen door open and moving further into the room, eyeing her friends. 

“Morning, Luce,” Lockwood replied, taking a large gulp of his tea. He didn’t seem fazed by the incredibly strange situation that was happening right now (was this some sort of a fever dream? Maybe she was hallucinating from sleep deprivation or something), and Lucy nearly poured the still-hot water on her hand instead of in the mug. “Sleep alright?”

“Uh… yeah. What time did you two get back last night?”

“Oh, I don’t even know,” Y/n started. “Definitely past two in the morning, but we were so tired we didn’t really look at the time.”

“Right.” There was a pause while Lucy finished making her tea, and as she took an experimental first sip she regarded them over the top of her drink. “So… Y/n. Did you just collapse on the sofa downstairs or something? I didn’t hear you come in last night.” The other girl froze for a moment, and if Lucy wasn’t a trained operative then she probably wouldn’t have noticed it since her panic was almost instantly replaced by forced calm. 

“Oh, uh…” she glanced at Lockwood, who made some sort of face in reply. “… no?”

“Huh, you must have been quiet, then. That or I was sleeping like a rock.”

“Sure,” Y/n said, a weird look on her face. She was smiling, but almost like she knew something that Lucy didn’t, and that puzzled her. A chuckle sounded from the corner of the room, and under a blue and white striped tea towel, Skull had woken up. 

“You’re really going to take that for an answer? She didn’t even pick one!” Lucy frowned, begrudgingly realising that Skull was right. Y/n hadn’t really answered her question, and what had happened at her parents’ house the last couple of weeks for her to stop trying to kill Lockwood by glaring at him? 

As nonchalantly as possible she asked “So you were quiet? Or was I sleeping like a rock?” 

“Um… I was quiet?” She didn’t sound very sure, and Lucy’s suspicion was growing at the same rate that Skull’s grin was. 

“I know for a fact she didn’t make it all the way up the stairs last night,” he said, some of the sludge in the jar forming comically large eyebrows that waggled around. Now that was interesting. Why would Y/n say she’d been quiet coming in if she had never come in in the first place? Lucy was just about to ask that very question when George trudged into the kitchen, oversized shirt thankfully covering what his lack of trousers didn’t. He pushed his glasses up his nose and squinting at the people gathered. 

“… What’s going on? Y/n’s not trying to murder Lockwood.”

“Why is that a thing?! I’m not always trying to kill him!”

“In fairness, it was a regular occurrence, dar-” Lockwood’s mouth snapped shut, cutting off whatever he’d been about to say. Lucy saw his jaw clench, unclench, then clench again while he flitted his eyes closed in some sort of silent prayer. 

“Yeah…” George said. “This is weird.” He stood at the head of the table, lifting a hand to scratch at his side like a monkey. “Dare I ask how your Christmas was?”

“I mean… Steph and Linda were there, but after I slapped Steph and Mum shouted at Linda they left.” Lucy stood straighter in shock, pushing off the counter she had previously been leaning on. George was similarly surprised, but Lockwood? Lockwood was grinning with pride. 

“You slapped your cousin?!” George exclaimed, a smile growing on his face. “Like, you properly hit her?!”

“I mean… yeah?” Y/n replied, taking a sip of tea. 

“It was awesome,” Lockwood added, and Lucy and George shared a look. 

“You think he would have said that before?” Skull piped up again. “I certainly don’t. Something happened while they were away, that’s for sure. And I know what it was!” He said the last part in a sing-song voice, face turning over in the jar. 

“Yeah, well you could just tell me,” Lucy muttered, drawing everyone’s attention. “Sorry. Skull’s talking.”

“Where’s the fun in that! Better to watch you figure it all out on your own!”

“Bastard.” 

George had started making his own tea, popping two slices of bread into the toaster and giving it a good whack when it didn’t immediately start working. Satisfied that his breakfast was underway, he busied himself with his drink. “So Y/n… how come your suitcase was in Lockwood’s room?” he questioned, turning and pushing his glasses further up his nose. Lucy tried to disguise her shock, but that resulted in a small smirk instead, her eyebrows rising while she regarded her friends. 

Lockwood answered. “She didn’t want to lug it all the way up the stairs, not with the time being what it was. It just… hasn’t been moved yet.” Y/n nodded, a little too enthusiastically, and cast a worried glance towards Skull. 

“So Y/n and her suitcase slept in Lockwood’s room?” George asked, still probing for answers. He had a little smile on his face, one of those ‘I figured it out’ ones that when she had first joined the agency, Lucy had mistaken for ‘I’m better than you’ smirks. She wasn’t far behind him, and if she hadn’t already figured it out then the reactions of Y/n and Lockwood were enough to confirm her suspicions. 

“Yeah, that’s right,” Y/n said, sipping her tea. There was a brief pause in which Lockwood nodded, smiling softly at her, and then it set in. Lockwood looked like he had malfunctioned, the cogs in his brain turning but not producing any kind of reaction other than a blank stare with confused eyes. Y/n choked on her mouthful of tea, spitting some of it back out into the mug and resting it on the kitchen table while she coughed. Immediately Lockwood’s brain started functioning properly again, and he quickly put his own tea down and went to help Y/n, fussing over her like a worried parent. 

Skull was chuckling in the corner again, and Lucy couldn’t help but join in. George laughed too, his mirth only growing when Lockwood and Y/n turned and glared at him. “Alright,” Lucy started. “Why was Y/n sleeping with Lockwood?”

“I wasn’t sleeping with him!” the other girl spluttered, apparently thinking that Lucy had suggested that the pair of them had had sex, and George was now nearly doubled over with laughter. Lockwood smirked, and before Lucy could protest he was already opening his mouth. 

“I mean not last night, but there were plenty of times at your parents’ house where we-”

“OH MY DAYS NO, STOP-” Y/n got up, all but tackling Lockwood to the ground and slapping her hand over his mouth to prevent him from finishing his sentence. Lockwood went down like a sack of potatoes, and the ‘oof’ he let out on impact had made Lucy snort into her mug. “They don’t need to know that, idiot,” she whispered, but since sound echoed in the kitchen Lucy and George could still hear her, even after the toaster popped loudly. 

“How long have you two… been like this?” Lucy asked, waving her hand in their direction where they now laid on the floor. Lockwood tried to talk but Y/n’s hand was still firmly keeping his mouth shut, and while he was attempting to prise himself out of her grip she was apparently too strong. Lucy didn’t want to think about how much his jaw would hurt afterwards; she had had pillow fights with Y/n that had ended with trips to the medical cabinet because the pair of them got too ambitious with their hits. 

Y/n answered, still attempting to maintain some dignity. “On the floor? A few seconds-”

“Let me rephrase,” Lucy cut her off, putting her finished mug of tea down on the counter with a decisive thud. “How long have you two been together?” Y/n stilled, giving Lockwood time to wriggle out of her grasp and glance awkwardly between his gathered colleagues. He pushed himself to sit back against the kitchen cabinets, one arm resting outstretched on his knee while the other scratched at his neck. He was nervous, then. He looked like he wanted to answer, but he was still shifting his gaze between them all. 

“Uh…” Y/n started. There was a pause, and then she sighed. “Dammit.” She fished around in her pocket and pulled out a slightly crumpled five pound note. Lucy frowned for a moment, wondering what the hell a fiver had to do with this situation, then huffed in surprise when it was passed very begrudgingly to Lockwood. He looked very pleased with himself, accepting the money without moving much, hand outstretched to catch the note between his index and middle fingers. 

“What was that for?” George asked, although he’d just taken a mouthful of his toast so it came out more muffled. 

“Lockwood said we wouldn’t last a day keeping it secret from you both, and I bet that we could.” Y/n shrugged, shuffling around on the floor to sit between Lockwood’s legs. He didn’t get the message at first, too busy stuffing the money into his hoodie pocket, but after a sharp jab to his thigh he moved, wrapping his arms around her waist and complaining when Y/n shoved her elbows into his middle. 

“I swear you do that deliberately,” he muttered, but there wasn’t any malice behind it like there would have been before the holidays. 

“I don’t! If you keep complaining about it then I will do it on purpose, dickhead.”

That was better. Lucy shuddered at the thought of the two of them being overly sickly sweet, all cuddles and pet names like ‘Sugar’ or ‘Schmoopie’, and was instantly glad that the competitive streak in them both had apparently stayed. It would be a lot easier to stomach living with a new couple if they weren’t being insufferably cute. 

“So… you bet on your own acting skills?” questioned George, finishing his slice of toast. “Seems a bit stupid, really. You’re both awful at acting.” Lockwood and Y/n stopped bickering, instead staring up at George in shared outrage. 

“How dare you! I’m a charades champion!”

“I can act, it’s Lockwood that’s the problem!”

They spoke at the same time, both pointing at Lockwood for their respective comments, and Y/n took a moment to take in what he’d said. “Charades champion?” she said, drawing out the syllables and turning slowly to look at him over her shoulder. “We already talked about this, Ant. Using props is cheating, so you lost every game you played!” Lucy frowned. ‘Ant’? Since when had Lockwood let anybody call him Ant?! Apparently he didn’t mind, instead being too busy looking at Y/n with hearts for eyes while he tried (ineffectively) to argue his case. It was obvious that Y/n would win, given how wrapped around her little finger Lockwood was, but the argument wasn’t really an argument. More like… friendly teasing. Lucy could deal with that, she decided. It was much better than having to comfort one of them or convince apologies out of them after a screaming match. 

Skull had gone silent in the corner, but there was a smile in the sludge. He almost certainly had some information, but Lucy could get the details out of him and her friends later.

For now, she was content to watch them be a proper family for the first time since Y/n joined, even if Lockwood’s laughing face was being shoved away from the aforementioned girl as he tried to kiss her in an attempt to apologise for cheating at charades. 

tag list (if you're on here twice or I forgot you I'm so sorry, this tag list is honestly such a mess whoops):

@strawberryloveyyy, @chameleon021, @genderfluid-anime-goth, @cottagecore-babe, @anthonylockwoodandco111, @a-taken-url, @ahead-fullofdreams, @aislinrayne, @anathemaloren, @anthgoldenhrry, @augustisintheair, @aysha4life, @briar-rose23, @curseofhecate, @dangelnleif, @edible-rat-vomit, @el-de-phi, @ell0ra-br3kk3r, @ettadear, @fearlessmoony, @fudosl, @idkbubs, @imaginebeingmentallystable, @informedimagining, @karensirkobabes, @lady-ashfade, @light-23, @locklyebrainrot, @locklyle1kanij, @locknco, @magicandrosewaters, @mentallyillsodapop, @mischivana, @mitskiswift99, @mrsklockwood, @mrsyixingunicorn10, @newbooksmell777, @no-morning-glories, @novelizt, @phlooper, @ran23sblog, @reggiepeterss, @simrah1012, @somethingrandomwatzit, @star-of-velaris, @superpositvecloudshipper, @t2sh0, @taygrls, @tournesol77, @whistle1whistle, @whenselenefallsinlove, @wordsarelife, @y0urm0m12, @zoom1374, @asyouwish-fromcabin3, @rhysand-devorak, @a-candle-maker, @h0lyheck, @apple-bottom-jeans6, @icantwaittoliveandlearn

@neewtmas, @bobbys-not-that-small, @avdiobliss, @demigoddess-of-ghosts, @maraschinomerry, @lewkwoodnco, @uku-lelevillain, @oblivious-idiot

[dairyminki]

Like A Cat | c.s

↬ pairing: choi san x gn!reader

↬ summary: out of the two of you, san, with no doubt, was clingier as his love language centered on physical touch and affection. but when the tables do turn, san is much more delighted to accept what you give him

↬ genre: fluff, established relationship

↬ warning: light swearing

↬ wc: 500+

"I'm home!" You shout as soon as you open the door to your apartment. Being freakishly tired from work, you end up wobbling on your way to the couch, your bag dropping to the floor, while your sore body collides with the softness of the furniture.

You were beyond exhausted.

"Y/N!" San's shrill voice comes from your shared bedroom, having woken up from his light nap after hearing your voice. However, his cheerful voice chanting your name repeatedly immediately died down when he saw your state on the couch.

To him, and everyone who has eyes - he thinks - you looked like life was sucked out of you.

"Oh my god, my baby, are you okay?" Worry and concern was evident in your boyfriend's tone as he knelt in front of you, cupping your cheeks in his hands.

"Do I look okay to you?" You muttered weakly, closing your eyes. Which sent San into a frenzy; him, shaking your body, while ridiculously thinking that you were going to pass out on him.

"For fuck's sake, stop overreacting, San! I'm just tired…" You groan, now turning to plant your face on the plushness of the couch. Then, your boyfriend speaks up,

"Oh, why didn't you say so? God, I panicked for nothing."

You didn't give him any response.

Not when he speaks up for the second time. This time, asking, "My tired baby, do you want anything? Tell me, and I'll do it for you, hmm?"

San threads his fingers through your hair, trying to tidy it up as gently as possible. You nearly whimpered at the feeling. The way he did it was so soft that it almost lulled you to sleep.

"Anything?" You repeat in a hushed voice, cheek squished as you turn once again to look at him.

"Yeah, anything."

And that's how you find yourself seated on San's lap, cuddling with him on the couch. Your face buried in his neck whilst you litter lazy pecks along the side of it. San's fingers continued to caress your hair, giggling as your kisses tickled him.

"Is this okay, baby?" Smiling, San asks you, making you shake your head.

You pulled away from him and found him looking at you, confused. Even with tired eyes, you still managed to smile cheekily, pointing at your lips.

"Want you to kiss me too."

It had San giggling even more, more than happy to supply to your request. Anything for his baby.

A kiss on the forehead.

On your nose.

The apples of your reddened cheeks.

And lastly, on the lips.

"Anything else?" San asks, booping your nose.

"No." You say softly. And then like a cat, you went back to nuzzling your face in his neck, basking in the scent of his perfume. Your eyes closed in pure bliss.

San had wrapped you tightly in his embrace, one hand playing with your hair the way you liked it to, while the other remained on your waist, his fingers drawing any pattern that came to his mind.

San wishes that when you wake up, you'll still choose to stay in his hold.

Because, frankly, he enjoys every minute of it. Loving the way you fit perfectly in between his arms.

↬a/n: ahhhhhck here's a little something as i slowly ease myself back into writing once again teehee

↬ ATEEZ Masterlist

[jester-lover]

Hi I hope you’re doing well! ^^

I saw that your requests were open and o was wondering if you had any hc with L.j with a chubby/plus size fem reader who’s really insecure about their weight and how they look 24/7 nsfw or not, it’s totally okay! ^^

I’m dealing with severe body dysmorphia right now and I feel like I keep getting worse.

I love your writing so much and the way you write everyone, and I just wanted to say to keep the amazing work!💕

Feel free to delete it if it’s not something you’re comfy to write for! I’d completely understand

As always, stay safe and remember to hydrate <3

Pretty Lady

Cw/female reader, angst, fluff, insecurities, comfort, SFW, body image issues, food/eating/weight mention, this post is a bit longer than my other ones, because I personally wanted to write it

Laughing Jack x fem! Chubby! Reader

Hey nonnie, I know how difficult it feels to not belong in your own self, especially when it comes to weight. I know how repetitive the ‘your beautiful!’ comments can get, even if they are absolutely true. So I’ll just let you know that I wholeheartedly hope that you find happiness with yourself, that you find contentment with yourself. This is something I wish I heard in my times of trouble. You are completely free and valid to feel however you feel, but please know that there is always something beautiful in the world waiting for you.

Jack is such a tender hearted fool for you

His soul is wrapped around yours in an everlasting hug, and he’s forever grateful you chose to keep him around

What confuses him at first is your sudden reluctance to accept the little hard candies he makes specially for you

Jack tries to think of the reasons why you’d reject his treats, perhaps you have developed a new taste?

To his surprise, when he goes to your room to ask about it, he discovers a saddening scene

Clothes scatter your bedroom as you sit on your bed in your pajamas, crying into your hands

Your breathing begins catching, which takes him from his trance as he reaches to stroke your back and press you against his comforting form

“Dearie? What's the matter? Are you hurt?”

Jack will wait as long as you need to, letting you cry it out as he gently presses kisses to your temple

His hands wrap themselves around your soft midsection as he sweetly coaxes you to lift your head up to meet his eyes

As you explain your worries to him, Jack feels whatever leftover heart he has begin to break

Tears speckle his eyes as he looks at you, his hands that rest on your waist begin shaking a bit as he speaks up again, seemingly soaking up all your pain

"But beloved...there is so much more to love about you...you mean so much more to me than your gorgeous appearance."

Jack holds you in his lap, and whilst being mindful of his claws, traces the features of your face, whispering little complements as he kisses you gently

Throughout the next couple days, he'll distract and uplift you with various services and simple delights

He'll cuddle you in your sleep, preferring to spoon or hold you against his chest as he shares little stories and anecdotes

Jack has seen almost 200 years of beauty standards flying in and out of style, and he knows they matter for nothing

He'll assist you in small self care activities throughout the next couple days, like long bubble baths and painting your nails

these activities bring you closer together, and he just basks in your presence

"Being around you is an honor, my love, something I've been blessed with."

He practically worships you, treating you like the beautiful woman you are

He loves it when you show off your outfits for him, a little fashion show where you two parade around in ridiculous outfits, laughing at one another and toppling over in each other's arms

Jack loves you, all of you, including your body. He finds you deeply attractive and he wants you to see that too.

[everythingdenied]

stubble-matty healy

a/n: hey loves <3 idk why i'm suddenly deciding it's a good idea for me to post my writing on tumblr again (or why the first thing is i'm deciding to post is just pure filth) but here we are. i've had this in my notes for aggeess and since everyone's in their matty era rn i thought i'd feed you all. pls be nice i am actually shitting it posting this. (also apologies to all my old moots who now have matty healy in their feed when they do not want him! love u all x)

warnings: just pure self indulgent smut tbh (but it's cute, I promise!) smoking, fem!reader        

wc: 1,691

I’d never really been an early bird. The morning air was always a little too cold on my skin for my liking and I didn’t much enjoy the taste of coffee, nor the sound of my alarm, which I set each night despite knowing I’d sleep through it every time without fail. My pillow never felt quite as fluffy as it did in the evening and the noises of the bustling city I’d grown somewhat fond of only existed to annoy me as I prised open my tired eyes. And yet, with him…I was every bit a morning person.

There was just something different about waking up to him. Even at 7am, with my alarm blaring from my phone and the barely conscious thought that I had to be up for a meeting soon flitting around my brain, I couldn’t help but smile to myself whenever I opened my eyes to see him beside me. Especially on those rare occasions like today that I woke up before him, languidly turning onto my side to see the man I loved still dozing peacefully.

He was such a pretty sleeper, his face nuzzled into the crook of my neck, lips parted and warm breath tickling my bare skin with each soft snore. His curls, which he’d recently developed a penchant for flattening down with obscene amounts of hair gel, were splayed out haphazardly on the pillow and I smiled sleepily at the sight, moving to brush a few stray locks from his eyes. I pressed a a featherweight kiss to his forehead and he stirred, a contented hum slipping from his lips, but didn’t wake, much to my delight. I so wanted to bask in this moment just a little longer, scarcely having the pleasure of seeing my boyfriend in a state so unadulteratedly vulnerable.

Minutes passed and, still draped in my sheets and his limbs that he’d aimlessly tossed over me in the middle of the night, I watched Matty with a sleepy smile painting my mouth. My eyes traced his every freckle which, after nearly four years together, I thought I’d become familiar with, only stopping when I noticed his eyelids slowly flutter open.

He yawned and sluggishly rubbed a fist against his eyes, dazed with sleep as he blinked up at me.

“Morning” I smiled, finding him wonderfully endearing when he was barely over the threshold of slumber.

“Mph, g’mornin…” He croaked out lowly, eyes falling shut again as he buried his head further into my neck, placing a sloppy kiss to my jawline. “How long have y’been awake?”

“Not long. Couple of minutes, maybe.” Matty hummed, lips never once leaving my skin as he peppered a listless trail of saccharine kisses from my jaw to my neck. His two day old stubble brushed against me and I giggled at the sensation, squirming under his touch. “That tickles…”

“Sorry.” He smirked, looking up at me with a familiar cheeky glint in his eye, still managing to tease me in his drowsy state. “Need to shave."

I shook my head, scratching the light shadow of facial hair that peppered his jaw.

"I dunno...I kinda like it. You look quite fit."

"Yeah?" Matty snickered at my words, his laugh a little rough with sleep, and nuzzled his cheek against mine, intentionally grazing my skin with his stubble. I pushed him away, biting back my playful smile.

"Stop it. You're gonna give me beard burn."

"You've never complained about that before, love..." He chuckled but pulled away from me, sitting up to lazily reach for the packet of cigarettes resting on his side-table, pulling a smoke out with his teeth.

I rolled my eyes, knowing exactly what he was implying and wanting no part of it. I had work in an hour or so; choosing to engage with him and his incessant virility was a dangerous game that I wasn't too sure I had the time to play.

"It's barely seven o'clock, Matthew. Get your head out of the gutter" I chided, eyes fixed on him as he lit his cigarette, the sheets pooling at his waist and his unruly curls flopping forward.

He grinned sleepily, blowing out a thin trail of smoke from the corner of his mouth before turning to look at me, propping himself up on one elbow. "S'always deep in the gutter with you, darlin."

Jesus.

I pursed my lips, suddenly feeling restless under his half-lidded gaze. He knew it, too; more than aware of the effect he had on me, especially at times like this where the border between love and lust blurred in the hazy morning light.

"Even when you've just woke up?" I cocked a brow, stealing the cigarette from between his fingers and taking a long pull.

Inching closer, Matty smirked and slipped a hand beneath my pyjama shirt, his thumb kneading soft circles against my waist.

"Oh, that's when it's at its deepest." Claiming the cig back, he took one last drag before stubbing it out in a nearby ashtray, wasting no time in pulling me flush against his warm body. His lips met mine in a matter of seconds and I practically purred; the first proper kiss of the day far better than the buzz any amount of espresso or nicotine could give.

For a minute or so, the two of us remained locked in a kiss, a barely-awake display of affection that only turned to desire when Matty's hands fell from my waist, fingers hooking under the cotton waistband of my underwear.

"Matty..."I mumbled against his mouth, brushing away his hand only for it to fall right back into position. "Mph...I've gotta get up for work."

He pouted, pulling away somewhat breathlessly.

"Please" His voice radiated with a fervent desperation. "I'll be quick. Jus' wanna taste you before you go."

"I-I dunno. I really can't be late again."

The heat between my legs said differently.

"Please, love..." He reiterated, almost whimpering now. "Promise you won't be."

He was already practically between my legs at this point, fingers splayed out against my hips as he planted sloppy kisses to my stomach, my shirt now somehow hiked up just below my breasts.

This man was going to be the death of me (and probably my career, by the looks of things.)

"Shit, Matt" I shook my head lightly at my the love of my life as he lay at the foot of the bed we'd shared for years, gazing up from between my thighs with sleepy adoration and the morning sun on his face. I could do nothing more than sigh in defeat. "Fine. But you're looking after me if I lose my job over you."

"Always" he breathed out softly.

It took him no time at all to pull down my underwear, letting them bunch up at my ankles as he turned his full attention to my thighs, which already glistened with my own slick.

"Fuck, love" He drew a sharp breath, languidly nibbling at the skin just below my pussy, leaving lazy, haphazard marks on my inner thighs. His grip on my hips grew tighter. "So beautiful."

"Thought you said you were going to be quick." I whined, bucking my hips slightly. Matty chuckled, his warm breath brushing my bare cunt.

"God, so needy" He quipped jokingly and I lifted my head from the pillow to shoot him a look. Brave words for a man who'd just practically grovelled at my feet for a taste of me. "Alright, alright. You don't need to tell me twice."

And with that his mouth finally got to work, lapping up my dripping arousal with a fervency that let me know just how much he desired me. Matty didn't always want to admit it; sincerity was difficult for him at the best of times, but he'd crawl into my skin if he could. Moments like this, when his mouth and attention was on me and me alone were his special way of letting me know that I was all his.

The speed at which his tongue worked at grew with each passing moment, no longer idly circling my clit. I gasped, hands grasping at his curls as I felt the familiar burn of his stubble against my inner thighs, an added sensation I was rarely lucky enough to experience. Thank fuck he hadn't bothered to shave.

"Feel good, gorgeous?" I let out a strangled moan in response and Matty hummed in satisfaction against my core, the soft vibration only bringing me closer to orgasm. "Good. S'my pretty girl."

He said nothing more, the room only filling with the sound of pleasure; my desperate whimpers and the sloppy sound of his tongue as it drew shapes against my bud intermingling in one sweet sonance. With each lick, I grew nearer to release. Matty knew my body well enough to know I wasn't far from cumming, feeling me writhe beneath him, mumbled expletives slipping from my mouth as he told me just how good I tasted.

"Nearly there, darlin'. Doin' so well." He quickened his pace, breathing heavily as he coated my pussy in his saliva. "Wanna cum for me, yeah?"

I nodded, although I wasn't sure he could see me, the coil in my lower stomach tightening.

"Y-yeah."

"Thought so" he breathed. "Go on then, love."

And I did, coming apart beneath him, loosing myself momentarily in a feeling of burning pleasure only he could ever elicit from me. I sung his praises, his name falling from my lips as he slowed, his featherweight kisses to my clit allowing me to ride out my high. Matty let out a throaty groan himself, getting off on knowing he'd done this to me.

Hazily flopping my head back against the pillow, I felt Matty clamber up the bed, watching me with loving ardor as my chest heaved.

He hovered above me, his hands positioned firmly on either side of my shoulders as he leant down to kiss me, his (not quite) beard glistening with my juices and his lips slick and wet.

"How's that for beard burn, aye?" He smirked against my mouth and, despite my exhaustion, I found just enough energy to smack his shoulder playfully.

"Dickhead."

[spotsandsocks]

💕🐝Fuck it Friday🐝💕

Tagged by @giddyupbuck and @daffi-990 so thought I’d share this. I commissioned this from @loserdiaz to go with one of my fics I wrote a personal fav of mine Bee Careful What You Say where Buck is Buck and puts his rescue skills to good use to help a bee and Eddie just can’t help himself …

Look at how adorable they are thank you April 💕💜💕

Tags if anyone wants to share today @thewolvesof1998 @hippolotamus @jesuisici33 @exhuastedpigeon @hoodie-buck @shortsighted-owl @stagefoureddiediaz @spaceprincessem @heartshapedvows @wikiangela @disasterbuckdiaz @monsterrae1 @rogerzsteven @underwater-ninja-13 @ronordmann @thekristen999 @wildlife4life @housewifebuck @honestlydarkprincess @elvensorceress @the-likesofus @like-the-rest-of-la @steadfastsaturnsrings @weewootruck @eddiebabygirldiaz @buddierights and anyone else out they’re wanting to share 💕

Eddie’s been watching the whole thing unfold so he knows what’s happening. Hen’s only just arrived and it’s easy to imagine how you’d be confused by all this so her question is hardly surprising.

“What..what is he doing?” 

His friend’s resigned tone of long suffering pulls Eddie’s attention away from Buck, but only for  a moment because he needs to keep an eye on the situation and step in if things get dangerous.

His focus returns to the goal of keeping Buck safe because while Buck’s tall he’s not quite tall enough for what he’s attempting to do. Eddie chews on his lower lip nervously as he watches. 

Buck’s stretching up as far as he can go, almost on his tiptoes and Eddie’s trying to keep his attention fixed on the OSHA violations occurring and not the strip of skin that’s been revealed by Buck’s shirt rising up as his arms reach higher. 

“It’s stuck Hen! It needs help.” Buck calls down over his shoulder answering her question without actually telling her anything useful. 

Another weary voice joins in, “Do I even want to know?” Eddie risks another quick glance backwards and it reveals that Chim has also arrived now with Ravi. 

Ravi looks confused, Chim less so but then he has known Buck longer.

“It’s not like we don’t go on rescue missions every day” Buck says, voice a little strained by what he’s doing, he’s still far too precariously balanced for Eddie’s comfort. 

Then Buck reaches out again, stretching his arms, shirt and Eddie’s nerves to their limit. Eddie winces, worried about an imminent disaster, he takes an unconscious step forward hand twitching ready to reach out when Buck suddenly exclaims loudly,

“Ahah! Got him!” 

He turns around and looks down at the small crowd he’s drawn, the smile spreading across his face is triumphant. He’s very clearly delighted with himself, blue eyes seek out and find Eddie’s and when they meet the smile widens just a little. Eddie allows himself a few seconds to bask in the glow of that then breaks the moment by rolling his eyes before he reveals too much about himself.

“Although” Buck says “you know ‘him’ isn’t really right for bees because… “

“Buck!” Bobby’s voice captures everyone’s attention, “Get off the furniture…” he sounds exasperated but not surprised at what he’s seeing. He doesn’t even ask what Buck is doing standing on a table and holding a glass jar topped with a piece of paper.

Buck grimaces guilty and steps down onto a nearby chair, Eddie reaches up quickly to steady him when he wobbles before breathing more easily once he’s safely on his own two feet again. 

“Hey there, no need to get cross with me, I’m helping!” Buck lifts the glass up so he can talk to the tiny buzzing creature he’s just rescued and starts to head towards the stairs. Eddie follows because that’s just what he does. 

head to Ao3 for the rest Read on AO3

[moonshynecybin]

https://vm.tiktok.com/ZGemcDwPY/ Vale doing this to Marc a couple years down the line (when their relationship has been established, maybe they’re already engaged at this point, disgression) in the FCO AU because google calendar used to be that place that they had to share with the PR people from Honda/Yamaha and that Marc obviously loathed and obviously they no longer have access to them now and I don’t think that Valentino is like, enough of a nerd to do this, BUT, I think it could happen once and it would make Marc blush like a fool (he definitely takes a screencap of the invite just in case it ever disappears)

it’s literally like. okay we are past all of the #angst and headfirst into the reality of rosquez in a loving and committed and deeply horny relationship that has been well established at this point. several years post outing, post fake dating, post screamin and fighting and kissing in the rain, et cetera. they are sweet! they are in love! BUT. they are ALSO two of the busiest people on the planetttttttt. so it’s been. literally like three fucking weeks at this point since they’ve gotten more than a night alone together. agony. first it was a double header and then vale had sponsorship obligations and marc had a photo shoot and vale had to meet with one of the academy kids and then they BOTH had testing and like. it’s one thing to have lots of sexy fun sneaking around the paddock trying to find a spot that can lock long enough to fuck in between press conferences. it’s another when EVERYONE knows you guys are fucking and STILL the only time together you get outside of literally being unconscious is AT those same press conferences!!!! not fun!!!! not sexy!!!! (dani voice. can you two please stop playing footsie. jorge voice. marc that is in fact my foot. and my thigh.)

SO! what is a romantic little prankster to do when he wants to plan a fucking. at this point it feels like BIANNUAL date night with his favorite generational talented but unfortunately very busy twink ass boyfriend?? well if you’re vale, you hack his google calendar when he’s sleeping and you trick him. for funsies. he loves a scheme he loves a plan he loves a joke he loves a surprise !

so like. it’s post fucking media day at a race and marc is EXHAUSTED and all he wants to do is find vale and curl up in one of their ludicrously tricked out mobile homes and pass out with his nose pressed like. into vale’s armpit. and dream about merging their souls into one ephemeral but eternal being. typical marc stuff. and he’s almostttt out the door when his friendssistant (they ALL HAVE ONE !) jose tugs on his sleeve near the end of the day and is like. i’m sorry marc, but there’s one more thing… and he literally nearly CRIES. he hasn’t gotten dicked down in a FORTNIGHT it’s dire. it’s rough.

BUT! it also means that he doesn’t ask many questions. so when he gets led (easily) to whatever goofy ass elaborate rich people venue vale has chosen for date night (neither of them have changed clothes this so so essential to me… just both of them in khaki shorts so big they could legally be classified as parachutes. and new balances/vans. in the rich people venue.) he is SUPRISED ! and delighted… it’s perfect… vale sitting there eyes sparkling SO pleased to get one over on marc in the lovely little joyful way you get when you play a sweet little joke on your partner and is marc SO happy to get some alone time/attention just basking in it… like they LOVE each other… it’s the perfect night… and they do get papped (FCO AU is fundamentally about being famous and having no privacy i have to stick to the THEMES of my story) and they don’t even care!!! because the photos are them like. slow dancing and slightly tipsy pressed together… marc’s hands looped around vale’s neck… swaying… and the photos are kind of blurry but the smiles on their faces come through clear as day…

[rendy-a]

For the event i was thinking in the self aware au that mc would probably get nervous knowing alot of eyes were going to be on them so they would want to get advice on how not to embarrass themselves and who better to go to then our resident fairest queen Vil

I was starting to think all my requests were going to end up being the “ask to dance” variety but then I thankfully started getting some different types, starting with yours!  This is a fun idea as I feel like Self-Aware AU Vil would somehow be personally invested in the publicity of the Player.  He isn’t just a fan; he is the Player’s agent, stylist, and publicist all in one!

The hot sun beat down on you as you sat in a folding chair on the lawns of NRC listening to Crowley give some sort of welcome speech.  At least, you think that was what it was supposed to be.  Crowley’s ramblings had sort of veered off into rubbing his “Goodwill Dance” success into his rival Ambrose’s face.  For at least the past thirty minutes.  It was not only the NRC students, who were long since used to Crowely’s antics, but even the polite Fair Maiden girls and kindly Royal Sword boys who seemed to be at the end of their patience. 

At least you had people watching to amuse you.  The students of NRC were mostly used to you and you to them.  These newcomers offered you a chance to observe some new things.  You enjoyed seeing how the girls of FMA wore their hair and deciding if you could see any of the trends from your own world reflected in this one.  The RSA students were also refreshing to watch.  It had been so long since you’d seen a boy your age hold the door open for someone that you’d gasped out loud when you saw a polite RSA student grab the door for Professor Trein.  Each a delightful change of pace compared to your average NRC student’s behavior. 

You weren’t the only one people watching, though.  Whatever strange interest the students of NRC had in you extended to these newcomers as well.  You’d smile and they’d panic and faint or trip down a flight of stairs.  It was alarming really, so you’d tried to limit your interactions with them outside of events like this one.  For that reason, the number of students in FMA and RSA that could recognize you was limited.  Many of the eager students were having their first opportunity to see you now, but only if they could find you.  They had a searching gaze that swept over the NRC section, and you could practically imagine the whispered conversations that matched the pointing, ‘Do you think it’s that one?  No, maybe this one?’  You smiled to yourself, there were at least a few more days of anonymity before the big dance where you were sure everyone would discover who you were. 

“And finally,” Crowely boomed out, “I’d like to thank our very special guest who is like a child to me.  I am thankful everyday that such an illustrious person as the Play..err, ahem, as Yourself chooses to call Night Raven home.” You crouch down lower in your seat, hoping the various looks you are getting from the NRC students aren’t drawing too much attention; this wasn’t your plan at all.  “In fact, where…Ah!  There you are!  RIGHT THERE!  Second row, I’m pointing right at you!  Yes, YOU!  How very grateful you are to be witness to my boundless generosity in person.  Ah, I am so wonderful.” Well, so much for anonymity.

The assembly ended and, as you had predicted, a wave of RSA and FMA students swept over to gawk at you.  You forced a polite smile on your face and greeted all your unusual fans.  “Wow!  I can’t believe it’s really you!” one boy shouted while gently patting you on the back.  “Yup, it sure is me, I guess?” you reply.  “Oooh!” cooed a long-haired girl, “I have imagined this day for so long and now I finally get to bask in your presence.  You are just so…so…ahhh…” As she trails off you gaze down at yourself and understand.  Your uniform is old enough that it is more grey than black and the treads on the edge of your shirt are unravelling slightly.  Not to mention that you are so perfectly ordinary and not say, a regal dragon prince, or anything.  “Sorry?” you awkwardly reply.

“Oh! NO! I didn’t…I mean…well your…ah…I mean…you look…hmm…” you try to smile politely at all the not-quite-compliments she attempts, “Oh! Yes, you smell wonderful.”  At this the girl heaves a sigh of relief at finding one thing she could positively focus on.  It was a strange compliment though and it left you momentarily puzzled until you remembered putting on some of the scent Vil had gifted you for your birthday.  Of course, you smell good; anything Vil picked out was bound to be top quality.  In fact, that gives you an idea.

The walls of Pomefiore towered over you as you approached the regal dorm based on the Beautiful Queen.  Inside was its own beautiful queen, Vil, and the students he guided.  You were still embarrassed by the happenings of this morning.  Sure, you’d never really tried before to measure up to the mysterious persona you’d been granted in TWST but the way you’d had to stand there as you underwhelmed everyone excited to meet you…well, you didn’t want that repeated.  There was only one thing they had found impressive and that had been due to Vil’s influence, so you reasoned that if you wanted to change their impression of you, this was the place to start.

When you entered the foyer of Pomefiore, you were touched to find a collection of students waiting for you.  They were quick to criticize the FMA and RSA students who had made light of you earlier.  You were sure this wasn’t a healthy way to address the issue, but you still felt happy to hear it.  “I don’t get where she gets off acting like the fashion police in last season’s lipstick.”  This earns the nods of several angry students.  “And that RSA goon?  He was wearing socks with sandals.  SOCKS!  With SANDALS!”  That elicited a gasp from the outraged students over such an offence.  “Come with us, Prefect, and we will give you a makeover until no one can deny the way you shine!”  The crowd gathers around you and starts to usher you into the lounge when a slow clapping is heard from the stairs.

“Je regrette, mes amis,” Rook begins from the landing of the stairs, “but Vil himself is requesting to personally handle this transformation.” There were sighs of bitter disappointment, but no one dared question the will of the Queen of Pomefiore, least of all you.  You followed Rook up the stairs and down several hallways until you reached an elaborately decorated door that, you assumed, would lead to Vil’s room.  “Would that I could follow you and see you emerge from your cocoon in person,” Rook lamented with a dramatic hand placed to his forehead, “but alas, I must remain out here.”  You give him a wide-eyed look, unsure of how to respond to his dramatics.  “Go Trickster, go and become an even more beautiful butterfly!”  Then he flings open the door and practically pushes you inside. 

You carefully crept further into the room; carefully because it was quite dark inside.  Then, with a sudden dramatic flair, the curtains were cast open and your eyes beheld Vil.  The change in light caused you to focus on the only brightest point in the room and that was where Vil stood.  It was if he’d arranged for the sun itself to be his spotlight just to impress you, but you supposed that was just you being dramatic.  Although, when you calmed down enough to really take his expression in, you wondered if that was the intention after all.  He seemed far too pleased with the way you were gazing directly and only at him.

You force yourself to look away and remark, “That was quite an entrance there, Vil.  I almost thought you were onstage.”  He clucks his tongue at you, “Sweet Potato, for those of us in our position, the entire world is a stage.  You’d do well to realize that.”  You smile sadly, “I think I learned that this morning.  You might say my act bombed.”  He approaches you quietly until he stands right before you, “I heard.  All I can say about that is How. Dare. They!”  The final words were spoken with such a hiss of venom that it took you aback.  “Well, I guess I do understand.  I mean, just look at me,” you say as you gesture to your shabby clothing.

“No.” Vil replies simply, “A star is a star, whether they play the Prince or the Pauper.  I feel personally offended that these simpletons were unable to recognize your appeal.”  It was ridiculous enough that it drags a laugh from you, “I keep my appeal hidden inside, deep inside.” Vil is not amused, “Well then, we will need to force it out and put it on display.”  You wipe the smile off your face, “Yes sir!”  He gets an evil smirk on his face, “You can mock now but you better prepare yourself for my training.  When I’m done with you, no one anywhere will be able to look down on you.” 

If you thought Vil was brutal over the boys at the Fairy Gala, it felt like nothing compared to the regimen he prepared for you.  Clothing, manners, dancing, and socializing; all these topics were part of your time with Vil.  He worked your mercilessly up until the day of the dance.  After your final lesson, he presented you with a gift.  “Heels?” you ask unsure, “I don’t know if I’m exactly the heel type.”  Vil gives you a condescending look, “Heels are for everyone, Sweet Potato, and these aren’t just heels.  They are stilettos.  Do you know what a stiletto is?” 

You take the heel from the box and point to the back of the shoe, “Its this part, right?”  He rolls his eyes, “No Potato, I mean a real stiletto.”  You shake your head no.  “A stiletto is a kind of dagger; the sort you’d pierce someone’s heart with.  Just remember that next time anyone dares insult you.  If that happens, use these heels to grind them into dust.”  You decided Vil was less like your Fairy Godmother and more like your Mafia Godfather, but you weren’t complaining.  Watchout RSA and FMA, the Prefect of Ramshackle dorm was about to make an entrance to this dance.  And this time, everyone would know it was all about you. 

[yanderecrazysie]

Entrance (Yandere Fan! Tsukishima)

Requested on my Quotev.

When I say that I love Yandere Fan x Famous Reader stories, I am absolutely not joking- I just freaking LOVE these stories!!! The most likely victim of a yandere would be someone in the public eye because these people are already put on pedestals and treated like gods. I’m so excited to write this asdfgfhfgsdfsad sorry for how late this is, but finally got inspiration AHH!

If you doubt me, go to a boyband concert and look around at some of the girls in the crowd and THEN tell me that not a single one of them would consider murder for their favorite band member.

Also, the way Tsukishima finds Reader’s location is based on a true story of how a psycho fan found and stalked a Japanese Pop Star named Hibiki Sato.

Title: Entrance

Pairings: Tsukishima x Popstar Reader

WARNINGS: Yandere themes, Swearing, Slight incel vibes, not Tsukki stealing you from Yams lmao

Summary: You’re different from your bandmates- from every other idol somehow. At least, you are to your biggest, most obsessed fanboy.

entrance

/verb/

fill (someone) with wonder and delight, holding their entire attention

“Tsukki!”

The blond male sitting at his laptop paused in his typing and sent an annoyed glance to his bedroom door, which had been suddenly flung open by his closest friend.

“Shut up, Yamaguchi. Did you forget how to knock?” Tsukishima’s snide comment didn’t do anything to put a damper on his friend’s grin- if anything, the freckle-faced boy beamed even brighter.

The scowling man didn’t bother to ask his companion why he was so happy- he knew he’d find out in a moment. Sure enough, Yamaguchi eagerly brandished a shiny square case, practically shoving it towards him in excitement.

Tsukishima adjusted his glasses and studied the object- a CD case depicting a J-Pop girls’ group. The three girls were attractive in a somewhat-cutesy way. They stood close together, pearly-white grins across their faces as they held up peace signs, each of them clad in a different, glittery, pastel-colored dress with matching ribbons weaved into their long hair. The background was a faded pinkish color and covered in different illustrations of candies and sweets. A bold, bright, and cutely scribbled font above the idols’ heads declared what Tsukishima assumed was either the group’s or the album’s name: Candy Cloud.

“What the hell is this?”

Yamaguchi’s face flushed in embarrassment as his eyes darted away, his smile fading into a wistful expression. Tsukishima felt a twinge of regret for putting a damper on his friend’s spirit but… seriously? What was he thinking, acting so excited over some stuck-up celebrities?

They were all the same. Soaking up the fame and praise like narcissistic sponges when all they cared about was the money and attention their admirers gave them. The personas they showed off to the public were all for show, puppeteered by some publicist who knew what their audience wanted to see and hear.

Female celebrities were the worst- always so desperate to stay basking in the limelight that they would sell their soul to the devil if it meant that no one would forget about them. They’d pump themselves full of Botox and silicone, sleep with the most popular celebrities, and pull asinine stunts if they ever felt like the public wasn’t keeping their eyes on them.

The smiles and laughs they forced in interviews made Tsukishima sick to his stomach. So painfully fake. It was fascinating to see how bad singers were with words and how bad actors were at acting when it came to donning the masks their fans wanted to see.

He’d heard enough stories about these “sweethearts” and “oh-so-genuine” celebrities acting like disgusting monsters the moment they thought no one important was watching. Infuriating divas that verbally abuse their staff, condescending assholes that believe they’re better than everyone else, backstabbing bitches that no one likes but will never say so…

And what do their fans do when this news comes out? Even when faced with undeniable facts, they’ll defend their idol to the death, becoming utter hypocrites and making fools out of themselves. Simping for girls who would probably never know they existed and wouldn’t care about them if they did.

It didn’t matter to Tsukishima what these girls Yamaguchi was fanboying over pretended to be- he had no doubts that they went back to being self-absorbed bitches the moment the camera stopped filming.

Why would Yamaguchi invest any amount of time and effort into girls that would never know of his existence nor appreciate any support he gave them? Why couldn’t he just focus on a girl in one of their university classes or something? Tsukishima could stomach his friend gushing over just about anyone, as long as they weren’t famous.

The friend in question was looking at Tsukishima sadly, disappointed in the response he was receiving as it dampened the positive mood he’d been in, “Sorry, Tsukki, I just… thought you’d like one of them. All three of them are really cool and one’s your type.”

Tsukishima snapped back immediately, “And I’m supposed to believe she’d want to date me or something? They’re just braindead celebrities.”

Yamaguchi wilted and nodded reluctantly, muttering another apology. He stood there awkwardly as Tsukishima resumed tapping away at his keyboard and finally let out a meek excuse to leave.

“Goodbye,” said Tsukishima, not at all sad to see him go. Yamaguchi returned the parting word softly and scurried off, likely to listen to his CD at home.

As the night dragged on, a nagging feeling tugged at Tsukishima’s mind, distracting him from his essay. Why does Yamaguchi think I’d like one of them? Which one of those three girls did he think I’d even like?

Before long, the boy found himself typing “Candy Cloud” into the search bar and scanning the results. Sure enough, Candy Cloud turned out to be the group’s album name, their actual group being a mashup of parts of the members’ names. The first girl wasn’t his type, nor was the one in the middle, but the last girl, (Y/n), was just his type.

She wasn’t like the other celebrities he’d watched interviews of- she was entirely herself without a hint of deception. She giggled over the awkward moments but never lied, only ever saying “I’m sorry, I can’t tell you that!” when asked a confidential question.

Her interests and values aligned with Tsukishima’s, to the point that he began to imagine that they agreed on everything. And, as one night turns to one day, turns to a week, to a month, and so on, he begins to delude himself into believing that you know who he is and already feel the way he’s beginning to feel.

Tsukishima no longer lets Yamaguchi come over.

He’s embarrassed, to a point, by how much you have taken over his living space. Your posters and pictures line his walls, your solos play on repeat, and he has every piece of merch, official or not.

Tsukishima studies the latest selfie you’d posted to your personal social media account. He grins. The name of the train station you’re at reflects in the iris and pupil of your big, beautiful eyes. It’s nearby. No more than a 15 minute drive and you’d mentioned “walking home” in the text portion of your post.

Soon enough, he’d be adding the best possible addition to his extensive collection.

You.

[onboardsorasora]

Sugar Baby Daniel

oooh it has been a minute and a half since we had an update here. Couldn't leave this AU out of Lewis' win AO3 Link: Sugar Baby Daniel | First Tumblr chapter: How they met

The noise was deafening when Lewis drove across the chequered flag. Silverstone was in raptures and there was no one exempt. 

The mechanics and engineers were hanging off of the walls and railings, Toto was jumping and cheering and Carmen was squeezing him tightly. Daniel was in a state of euphoric shock. Reasonably, he knew that Lewis was a world champion and beloved by the sport and fans alike. Reasonably he was very aware that Lewis had all of these stats and awards and accolades for winning. 

But, Daniel realized at that moment that he’d never seen Lewis win. He’d never witnessed the rapturous energy in the paddock, never seen such delight on the faces of the team he’d come to know in the last few years. His joy felt explosive and he knew it was mirrored in everyone around him. Quite literally everyone was happy for Lewis and that made Daniel’s happiness grow. 

He hung back during the ceremonies, shaking his head and waving for Carmen and Linda to go on without him to greet Lewis in parc ferme. He didn’t… he hadn’t been here long enough to bask in the feeling of it all. He didn’t understand the two and a half year drought as much as the people around him had. He didn’t experience it the same way they did. He didn’t know any better. And he felt he would be doing Lewis and his family a disservice by enjoying this moment with them.

He was proud of Lewis, so so proud. So happy for him. Lewis had been excited the night before, buzzing about the possibilities, how he planned to take turn one, the works. Daniel and Roscoe had listened attentively, well Daniel had, Roscoe fell asleep. Daniel knew Lewis would win, had felt it in his bones. What he hadn’t expected was the full blown imposter syndrome trying to make this all about him when it was supposed to be about Lewis.

He was sitting in Lewis’ driver room when the door opened. He saw when Lewis got whisked off to media and Anthony had suggested he wait here, with Roscoe. Lewis stepped in, sweaty and beaming. Golden trophy in hand. 

Daniel stood up and threw his arms around him, tucking himself close. Lewis squeezed him tight and Daniel didn’t even mind the press of the metal edge pressing into his shoulder. 

“I knew you would do it.” Daniel muttered against Lewis’ skin and Lewis laughed joyously in response.

“I didn’t see you out there.” Lewis pulled back to ask, Daniel bit his lip and looked down.

“I uh, I wanted you to have your moment with everyone. I know how much it means to everyone.”

“And to you?”

“Ok ok I didn’t come out cause I was bawling. I was so overwhelmed.” Daniel blushed and covered his face, Lewis’ smile turned soft– understanding. “I’m here now.”

“I’m happy you’re here now.”

Daniel pulled Lewis into a deep kiss, pushing all of his happiness and pride into the feeling. Lewis kissed him back with just as much vigor.

“You know, this is a first for me. I’ve never seen my boyfriend win a race before.” Daniel muttered almost conversationally. Lewis laughed.

“Was it everything you expected?”

“Honestly, I don’t think I could have expected this. Did you know you’re like.. a God?” 

Lewis snorted and shook his head, demure. “Gods have worshippers and all of that, these fans are just fans.”

“Gods also have supplicants…” Daniel trailed off with a raised brow, Lewis’ blood heated.

There was a knock at the door and one of the PR people called out for Lewis. He groaned while Daniel chuckled.

“Hold that thought.” Lewis suggested and Daniel licked Lewis’ lips before kissing him.

“Tonight, I’ll tell you more.”

“Good.”

[cryptidwithacopiccollection]

-points at you with delight and glee- FELLOW MARINE BIOLOGY/OCEANOGRAPHY ENTHUSIAST!!! hi I love your mer-attorneys and all the sea creatures you pick it delights my inner fish immensely

FKJHSAJHKSDKHSD THANK YOU!!

This whole AU would not have been possible without @original-character-chaos, who contributed to like half of the creature picks for the mers. It started out as me making a joke that if Miles Edgeworth was a mer, he'd be a frilled shark. Nox then asked if Gumshoe would be an octopus. Then I decided Franziska would be a sixgill because I love sixgills. We promptly spiraled out of control from there.

And when I say spiraled oh boy do I mean it. Under the cut is several paragraphs of infodumping.

First was our basic criteria: only deepsea animals.

Next came picking out deepsea animals for everyone. At this point we had Mia, Maya, Pearl, and Miles figured out, but we needed something for phoenix. At first I tossed around the idea of a coelacanth, since they're both blue and incredibly persistent, but they aren't able to swim very deep (only 700m down, mia would have had a 6,000 meter lead on him). Then I was looking up deep sea sharks. and one name stood out as odd to me. The basking shark was on there. Which was weird, they're surface dwellers. They literally have "basking" in their name, why would they be deepsea. Then I found out that they can dive up to 2,000 meters below the surface. for reference, that is as deep as GIANT SQUIDS.

And then it clicked that of COURSE Phoenix Wright, of all characters, would make a great deepsea mer to have basking in it's name. A few other factors, such as basking sharks being able to breach and being warm-blooded (just think of the cuddling possibilities), sealed him in.

Not only did we decide that we were only allowed to pick deepsea animals (reaching the twilight zone, aprox. 200 meters below sea level minimum, preferrably closer to the midnight zone at about 1,000 meters), but each character, save for identical twins, would be a different species. The specificity has gotten to the point where all mers in the Fey family have to be in the order scyphozoa, aka "true" sea jellies, and ON TOP OF THAT their bioluminescence directly correlates with their spritual power. So Mia, Maya, and pearl are all bioluminescent, but Dahlia and Iris aren't. Similarly, while we decided to give all characters distinct species, we also wanted bio family to show some relation to each other. So while Apollo is a thorny whiplash squid and Trucy's a vampire squid, they're both red cephalapods, and their common root, Thalassa, is a blanket octopus. Nox and I were kinda loosing our shit trying (and failing) to cross-reference the depth range of the gelatinous blanket octopus (Thalassa), which is different from a the shallow-dwelling rainbow blanket octopus, and even after digging up actual research papers our findings were unfortunately inconclusive. Another less complicated example is Manfred vonKarma, who we lovingly gave a greenland shark for the fact that he's old as fuck and also full of poison. Then of course Franziska had to be a shark too, so I said bluntnose sixgill because they are so fucking cool, and everyone sleeps on them.

And I mean it. Look up the largest sharks in the world. #1 will be the whale shark, for obvious reasons, the largest we've ever accurately measured was over 60 feet long. #2 will be the basking shark, which also checks out, their largest on record was over 40 feet.

But then you check for the next on the list. Now, weight-wise, the results do look different, but we're specifically focusing on the length of the shark from snout to tail-tip for this. And it's also where I start wanting to throw hands. On base reaction, most people would say the great white. A good record on measurements is this article, but they unfortunately appear to have fallen for the Great White propaganda, claiming the largest one on record was 23 feet. Wow, that's big! Sure would be cool if it was true. The largest great white that I can reliably find measurements on is Deep blue, who clocks in at just over 20 feet. There are unconfirmed reports from several hundred years ago of whites that were well over thirty feet... that I don't believe were actually great whites. See, they bear a striking similarity to the harmless, much larger basking shark, and I'd bet actual money on these reported catches just being very unfortunate baskers, sorry guys.

So, great whites only grow to about 21 feet MAXIUM, and most average 15-16 feet. Why have I spent so much time tearing them down over sixgills? WHEHEHEELLL. Buckle up. The largest recorded bluntnose sixgill shark was

26.

feet.

long.

Unlike great whites, a sixgill has no larger relatives to be mistaken for.

AND while I'm at it, I would like to add that the average size for this species, 11-14 feet, isn't nearly as well documented as other shallow-water sharks, and is based on when the shark reaches sexual maturity; sighted sixgills often reach well past 18 feet. Submersibles have encountered massive ones, such as this gorgeous beast, and because I'm so very normal, I did the math. It's stated in the extended cut of the exploration that her head is about 3 feet wide. And based on this reference, i measured out a sixgill's head width as about 1/7th of their total body length.

3 x 7 is 21, so that shark is, give or take, about 21 feet, possibly longer. Since they are deep-sea sharks, with the adults sticking to deeper waters, it is entirely possible that the largest ones are just chilling near the seafloor having never seen a submersible or ROV. Even discounting that, we have a (albeit roughly) measured sixgill who is as big as Deep Blue, if not bigger, and google is a liar.

They also are responsible for trying to eat underwater ethernet cables

So yeah. that's a lil bit of lore for Law of the deep, the silly little deepsea mer au for ace attorney! Thank you so much for the ask, again :D

[fandangotales]

Captor Xiao: Introduction

…

GN! Reader

Warnings: Unhealthy attachment, obsessive tendencies, descriptions of depression, dark content.

Please do not read if you think this will have a negative affect on your mental health. If you are experiencing any of these behaviors/habits yourself, please seek out support.

There’s a loud crash, as Xiao’s keyboard slams into his desk. He had just got sniped… again. He hissed in annoyance, closing out of the game. He just wasn’t able to focus as usual, and instead his mind was running rampant with thoughts and images of you.

He groans, laying down on his bed, staring at the darkness of the ceiling. The only light came shown from his computer monitor, as it flickered randomly.

Earlier, he had watched another one of your streams, and some of your random content on YouTube. Gods, he loved you so much. Just seeing those videos, or even just hearing your voice was enough to drag him out of the worst of moods… which was quite the feat these days.

You usually streamed once a week, and he honestly didn’t know what he would do without those regular updates. It was almost like a set schedule… every Friday night, you’d stream for a minimum of 2 hours. Such an event had repeated for the last 2 months, much to his delight. At this point, Xiao couldn’t imagine going without those weekly updates. Sure, he could watch some contemplations, or rewatch one of your recorded streams. But it really wasn’t the same the second time… not when he had memorized every single word that came out of your pretty lips.

Maybe his… interest in you was getting a little overboard. Although, he couldn’t find it in himself to care, not when you had done so much for him and his current self. You could be compared to a sweet dream… utterly perfect and uplifting in every form. And for Xiao, whose life had been filled with so many struggles, he found it incredibly difficult to break away from that sweet dream. He never wanted to let you go… because if he did, he would simply return to that… terrible sense of misery that seemed to accompany him even in the happiest of moments.

With you… he didn’t feel the overwhelming pressure that usually accompanies his mind. And sometimes, he would pretend you were there with him, if only to help him do the simplest of tasks. Getting out of bed at a reasonable hour, or taking care of himself was instantly made much easier, if he would take the time to imagine you there with him, with one of your typical comments.

“Wake up, silly goose. It’s literally 11am!” You’d say, with your ever-present smile.

Or sometimes,

“Come on, you can do it. Take a shower… it’ll only take 20 minutes, max. It’s not so bad. If you do that… you can eat some of the almond tofu left over in the fridge!”

Maybe it wasn’t the most normal thing to imagine, but if it helped? He wasn’t complaining.

Xiao buried his face in the single pillow on his bed, letting out a sigh. Just seeing you was enough to make him smile… the soft tone of your voice and the way you’d always dress up for your streams… it was truly a sight to see. You were divine… gracing him with your time and company, if only through the screen of his computer monitor. This way, he was allowed to bask in your presence, even if he was a nobody. Even if he didn’t deserve the smallest bit of attention from you.

His computer made a soft sound, indicating that he had an unread notification. He instantly clicked on it, after he saw the typical greeting from your twitch channel.

“Hi everyone!

I’m so sorry to announce this, but I’ll be taking a 3 week break due to some personal reasons. Please don’t worry about me, as everything is completely fine. I just need some time to take a break from my usual routine, as I’ve been feeling tired and worn out as of late. Thank you for your understanding, and I’ll be seeing you all after three weeks.

Love you all, and stay safe…”

.

.

.

.

N

.

.

.

No….

.

.

It’s as if his mood had completely dropped to rock bottom. Forget his previous excitement; forget his previous happiness at seeing one of your announcements. It all was crushed the moment he read those words.

3 weeks.

You couldn’t be serious. 3 weeks? Three whole weeks. It was already hard enough… waiting for 6 days between your regular weekly streams.

The day after the stream would be the easiest, as he would be thinking back to everything that you said throughout the day. It was fresh in his memory… your comforting presence fresh in his mind.

The day after that, the initial happiness began to fizzle away. Still there… but it was much less potent than the day before.

Halfway through the week, it’s almost as if he hadn’t even seen you. Those were always the hardest days… the days were he was thrust back into the familiar feeling of loneliness. It was a heavy feeling, weighing down on him as he tried to sleep. He struggled to even relax… as the negative feelings would always overwhelm him to the point where he didn’t even have the energy to get out of bed. At that point, it seemed like there was no point of anything. No point of taking care of himself. No point in eating. No point… of simply existing. There was no point, if he was without you.

The two days before the stream, his mood switched to one of anxious anticipation. He knew you’d be online… in 2 days. If he could just hold out until then, he’d be able to see you again!

The very day before the stream, Xiao didn’t even sleep. He couldn’t forgive himself if he missed even one second of your content, or one second of your intro screen. It was like a religious ritual… one that he followed perfectly as if he was your devoted worshipper.

2 hours before the stream, he was biting his nails. The anticipation was killing him.

1 hour… he was grabbing another cup of coffee. He was exhausted, but it was worth it if he was able to see you.

30 minutes… he tapped his leg, as he shifted in his gaming chair. Usually your intro screen was on by now… what was happening? Was something wrong? Did you…

Can…

Cancel?

This couldn’t be… not after he put so much effort into staying awake just for you. His breathing got heavier, as he started going into a full blown panic attack. You… you were avoiding him? What did he do…? He’s sorry… he must’ve disappointed you… he’s so worthless… sorry…

he’s sorry…

15 minutes later, the familiar waiting screen appeared on, with a little note apologizing for the late start. He breathed a sigh of relief, as his previous mood completely evaporated at the sight.

You were just late… everything was ok. What a benevolent streamer you were, offering a little apology just for him. He sighed, smiling slightly. You always were the sweetest…

When the stream started, his expression changed to one of pure elation. Seeing you… seeing this new content, hearing about your day… it was the best thing that has happened to him since your last stream. He eagerly watched the stream, replying to your little comments as if you were talking to him and him alone.

You think the “Crimson Witch of Flames” domain is terrible? Xiao agrees, because the Lavawalker set is useless. (He doesn’t even know what artifacts are… he just heard you complain about that set in particular)

You pulled Nahida in a recent banner? Xiao doesn’t even play Genshin Impact, but he’s already looking into this character so that he can better understand your favorite game. He really doesn’t need to understand the whole story line of the game… but if it helps him connect with you in that way, then he’ll gladly look into it. Even if it means watching hours of videos, and spending hours on the Genshin Impact Wiki.

He’s just that devoted… willing to do that… willing to do… anything for you.

.

.

.

.

One week was doable. A struggle, but he could always power through.

But…

Three weeks?

His apartment was silent, except for an occasional sob, as he curled into a small ball on the floor of his room.

The teal LED lights shown down on his pale body, as it was shook on the floor.

The only other sounds in that apartment was the quiet hum of his PC fans, and the occasional startup sound of the air conditioner.

He was alone.

Again.

Again.

Again, he’s alone.

…he needed you.

[anonymousreader4d7]

Skizz Week 2: Days 1 & 2

I'm running really late on these, but I DO want to do them all, hopefully!!! And I know I'm usually an artist for this kind of thing, but I had an idea for some of these and decided to try writing this time instead. These will all take place in the RMAU-Verse, just fyi. And if anything doesn't make sense or whatever, shoot me an ask and I'll be MORE than happy to answer and/or ramble about it!!! Without further ado...

(Edit: Now also on AO3 here!)

Days 1&2: Calm/Chaos & Sun/Storm

(Note: at least this drabble takes place after a fic I'm still writing, and there will be some slight references to what happens in that fic. I'll be happy to explain things if anyone wants to know.)

It's been awhile since he joined, but some days, the fact that he's on Hermitcraft with Impulse - and Tango and Zedaph and Grian and Scar and Gem and… and all the other Hermits - sometimes it just hits him again. It'd been years of being apart since Impulse was summoned to Hermitcraft and Skizz was… left behind isn't quite right, but it's not exactly wrong either. Sure, they'd seen each other on and off, and more so during season breaks, but it just… wasn't the same. But now he's here, he's back with his Buddy - his Partner - and their other friends, now he's on Hermitcraft with them. He's finally home…

And it's been a few days now since the Incident, everyone's instincts have calmed back down, and Skizz is sitting about halfway up on the outside of his newly “finished” pyramid, simply basking in the warm sunlight of Hermitcraft. He's just stretching out his wings to catch some more sun, when he feels a soft ping of curiosity, of where are you, whatcha doin’? from the other side of his Bond with Impulse. He sits up a little further, wings flapping softly, and turns his attention inward towards said Bond.

Dippledop! I'm just sitting on my Pyramid, soakin’ up some sun! What about you, hommeh buddeh?

He accompanies his words with a warm wash of fondness and welcome invitation. He's answered with a flash of eagerness, acceptance, and matching fondness. 

Nothing much. Which side?

Facing Gem’s. 

Only a couple seconds later, Impulse swoops around the corner of the pyramid and glides up to land beside Skizz. He can't help but smile up at his Partner, his best friend, as he stretches out one wing for Impulse to sit next to him. And he does, tucking himself under Skizz's wing and letting his own wing wrap around Skizz's back underneath the white feathered wing draped overtop him. 

“Hey hommeh buddeh!”

Impulse hums happily and leans further into Skizz. 

“Hey Skizz.”

They sit in calm silence for a while, simply basking in the warmth of the sunlight and their Bond. Skizz hums happily as Impulse rests his head against his shoulder, and he carefully leans his own head into Impulse's. It's been a while since they sat together like this, nothing really pressing to do, just… enjoying each other's presence.

It's a while before either of them speaks, and it's only after they see Gem exit one of her buildings and start walking around. 

“I missed this.”

Skizz feels Impulse shift slightly to look up at him, and lifts his head to give him more range of movement. 

“Oh?”

“Yeah, just… us just hanging out together. Nothing pressing to do. It's nice.”

Impulse hums and sets his head back on Skizz's shoulder, and Skizz lets his own head fall back onto Impulse's. 

“Yeah. Yeah, it is nice.”

They lapse back into silence for a while. This time it lasts until they're spotted by Gem from down below. She waves up at them and waits for their answering waves before going back to what she was doing. 

Skizz feels Impulse let out a big sigh and press a little further into his side, his tail swishing to curl around his own. He lets the wings on his tail wrap around Impulse's and secure the loop. A wash of overwhelming contentment and delight echoes down the Bond. Skizz lets out a questioning hum, and backs it with his own little burst of curious query.

“I'm just… really glad you're here, man.”

Skizz squeezes his wing around Impulse and presses his head further into his Bondmate’s with a pleasantly surprised noise. 

“Awwww, Dippledop! I'm glad I'm here too!!!”

Impulse shoves him sideways and Skizz can't help but burst into laughter, which only drags Impulse with him. They're loud enough that they notice Gem in the distance lift her head up, look at them, shake her head fondly before going back to working on one of her builds. That only makes them laugh harder, leaning back into each other in helpless giggles. 

Slowly, eventually, they settle back down, leaning into each other as the remnants of a few final giggles shake through them. A lazy warmth overtakes them between the calm contentment of their Bond and the soothing sunlight. A soft purr begins rumbling out of Impulse's chest, and Skizz can't help but grin. 

“You happy there, Dippledop?”

Impulse huffs and pushes Skizz over somewhat by flopping further on top of him, weight pressing him into the pyramid beneath them. His purr never really stops, however, and Skizz's grin only grows as Impulse playfully snarks back. 

“Shut up, dude!”

Skizz snickers but decides to simply shift to be more comfortable underneath his Partner's weight rather than continue messing with him. Between the warmth of the sunshine, the comforting weight of Impulse above him, the soothing purr rumbling through both their chests now, and the soft pleased and satisfied echoes in their Bond, Skizz finds himself drifting off to sleep. 

In his half-asleep state, he feels more than hears Impulse's purr be interrupted by a questioning hum, accompanied by a soft query.

Gonna fall asleep here?

Blearily, Skizz blinks his eyes open and disjointedly peers up at the soft clouds above them. 

Prob’ly shouldn't. But I think I'm gonna. It's warm and I can't be bothered to get up. 

He feels Impulse shift to get more comfortable atop him and catches a brief glimpse of dark hair and crystalline horns as he lets his eyes fall back shut. The weight atop him is more evenly distributed now, and he can feel the dark wings spread further out across them to absorb even more sun as Impulse's purr picks back up. 

Yeah, I feel that. Mkay. We'll just… take a quick nap here. Surely we won't regret this, yeah?

Skizz lets out a soft snort. 

Absolutely not. 

Even in their minds, it's dripping with sarcasm, and it draws an accompanying snort from Impulse. 

Yeah. Not sure I care though. 

Me neither. 

With that, the warm sleepiness and basking feelings that have been growing in the background of their Bond push to the forefront, and they both let it overtake them and drag them into sleep. 

When Gem wakes them several hours later, and teases them to high heaven because they're exactly as stiff and sore as they knew they would be, they briefly regret not moving to one of their bases, but in the end, they decide it's worth it. A moment of calmness in the sunshine is exactly what they needed. 

(I'll post this on AO3 sooner or later too... - Edit: Now on AO3 here!)

@skizzlemanweek - I think I saw we're supposed to @ you???

[ladynaberrie]

spare a crumb, I'll take it

Pairing: Kix x Translator!Reader

WC: 2k

Rating: M (no smut/spicy content but discussion of sex)

You head to 79s with your favorite unit. Kix walks you home.

part 1 part 2 part 3

Kix is going to lose his mind. 

It’s been hours, and yet each and every time you get up, his eyes zero in on your legs. He can’t help it. Really.

It’s not like he hasn’t seen bare legs before. But it’s the first time he’s seen your bare legs. (To be fair you do have tights on under your dress, but they’re fishnets; they’re also driving him insane). Part of him wants to strangle Jesse for inviting you to 79s while they’re planetside on Coruscant.

But a larger part of him is thrilled his brother had pity on him because now he gets to see you out of your uniform, and he’s losing it. He thinks you need to wear this every day. Fuck the GAR and their drab uniform; you’re glowing like this. And your legs…

His gaze drops back down to said offenders as you make your way back from the bar.

You’re sipping on your drink, plunking a beer down in front of him.

“Looked like you were getting a little low.” Kix’s face heats up as he glances at the way your lips wrap around your straw. What is wrong with him?

As you slide in next to Fives, Echo snickers at Kix, who is stuck watching your mouth.

“Hey, nothing for me?” he hears Fives ask. You snort, taking another sip of your drink, and Kix manages to drag his eyes to the foam that’s settling at the top of his beer.

“Listen, Jesse was gonna get you something, but I’m afraid we’ve lost him to a Twi’lek for the night. But you don’t need anymore to drink, Fives. Back me up, doctor.” Your foot taps lightly against Kix’s calf. 

He jerks back to attention, grimacing a little. He’s a solider, he shouldn’t be stunned into stupidity by you, and yet his eyes hover towards your lips anyway. 

“Not technically a doctor.” You pout a little at his rebuttal, foot still gently knocking into his calf. He’s so fucked.

“No fun,” you whine. Kix’s jaw clenches. He knows he’s playing right into your hand, but he can’t stop himself.

“I am plenty fun.” He does his best to ignore the way Echo shakes his head, pitying him. But you're delighted, jumping to your feet.

“Oh yeah? Prove it.” 

Kix is being pulled up and to the dance floor before he can process what’s happening. Gone is the safety of sitting at a booth, and instead, he’s surrounded by throngs of people. He can't even cower inside his bucket, as he left it sitting with his brothers' in a shiny set of four on the table.

But his anxieties are quickly forgotten about when you lightly drape your arms around his neck. Oh no, all he can focus on now is you.

The confidence you exuded earlier has vanished, but only a slight pinch in between your brows indicates what could possibly be going on in your head.

“Hi,” you say quietly, barely audible over the thumping music.

“Hi,” Kix answers back, doing his best to gently rest his hands on your waist. 

“This ok?” you ask. He knows this answer is important. It’s his chance to opt-out, to deescalate this to something strictly platonic, something professional and GAR approved.

“Yeah,” he chokes out, mouth moving before he can make a rational decision. Fuck.

You just beam up at him. “Cool.” 

And your hips begin to move to the music, but you stay pressed against him. 

Kix inhales unsteadily, slowly trying to move in sync with you. It’s hard with everyone around (he swears he can feel Rex staring holes into the back of his head, and he bailed on their night out). 

So he shuts his eyes, trying to move his body on beat, trying to just feel you and the music. It's some sort of synth-pop from a Coruscanti local that's been everywhere recently. But music aside, Kix feels like he’s on fire when you dance this close to him.

But eventually, you untangle yourself from him, movements becoming a little wider, a little bigger as you dance, lost in whatever you’re feeling; Kix orbits around you slowly, happy to be basking in your glow, happy you want him near. 

He’s not sure how long the two of you dance. Surely longer than he normally would stay out with his vode, but he can’t bear to leave your side; the thought of someone else taking his spot makes his skin crawl. So he dances and dances until he aches a little, and he’s rewarded when you wrap your arms around his neck again and lean against him.

“Tired,” you bemoan, eyes shut as your head rests against him.

Kix ignores the way his heart races in his chest, and he shoves down the embarrassment that rises when he realizes you can probably tell. He just sways gently with you, enjoying the moment.

“I’ll take you home.” Again, the words come out before he can stop them, and he panics a little as you still. But then you lift your head from his chest, eyes wide and soft as you gaze at him.

“Really?” He nods, thumb mindlessly stroking your back. You drag him back to the table, where Echo and Jesse sit with a Twi’lek and Pantoran woman he doesn’t know. Fives is long gone by now, helmet missing from the lineup.

Despite the urge to put it on, Kix leaves his with Echo and Jesse, mentally begging one of them to take it back to the barracks. He doesn't want to look at you obscured by plastoid and glass.

“Bye, guys. Kix’s taking me home,” you say, voice coming out louder than you think. You’re holding onto Kix’s arm tightly, and he recognizes a bleary look in your eyes. 

How much did you have to drink? You seemed fine earlier, just tired if anything. He mentally kicks himself for not keeping track. Some medic he is.

“Yeah, yeah. Making sure you get home in one piece,” he mumbles, face warm at how openly affectionate you’re right now. Jesse smirks at him, and Kix’s eyes drop to the ground.

He’s on autopilot as you direct him to an air taxi and around the subsequent blocks that are in between the air taxi drop-off and your apartment complex. When you stop at your building, he frowns. Sure, it’s on a mid-level but your safety is of the utmost priority, and this building’s security is not cutting it. 

He’s eyeing about 10 different paths a faceless attacker could take before he realizes you're dragging him forward and through the doors of the building. That’s fine. He should make sure you should make it to your unit. That’s it. No other reason. 

When you’re at your door, you drag your fingernails up and down his plastoid-covered arm, nevertheless sending shivers down his spine.

“Do you wanna come in?” you ask, your free hand already typing in the code to your room. He doesn’t have much of a choice as you tug him into your little apartment. 

He can scope out the place. Make sure the premises is safe. And then that’s it. Back to his bunk. 

While you kick off your heels and collapse onto the couch, Kix takes in your apartment. He’s struck by how you everything is. From the artwork on the wall to the colored kitchen appliances, everything feels like you. If he tries hard enough he can picture you haggling for your lamps, and petting different rugs until you picked the softest one. 

It’s so full of life and color here. Not at all regulation. 

At some point you flipped to your stomach, choosing to watch him silently, eyes all soft and demure. Kix is struck by how intimate this all feels, and anxiety bubbles up inside of him as he feels very out of place. A hard-cut monster bred for war in your soft little apartment.

“I should probably get going,” Kix says reluctantly, rubbing his head. “They’re going to assume the worst.” His tone darkens a little, and Jesse’s smirks and Fives’ laugh echo and resonate in his head.

“I don’t mind that.” 

Your voice cuts through the noise in his head, silencing everything. He stares at you, and the way you’re looking at him. With half-lidded eyes and a partially open mouth, you look pleased and in a mood to say things without a filter. Kix doesn’t miss the way you push your chest out slightly towards him. He inhales sharply, throat feeling dry.

Something hot stirs to life in Kix’s gut, and he aches at those four words. You like the idea that his brothers think he’s fucking you. The thought of the implications burns bright and fast through him. His jaw tenses.

“Well I mean-” you continue, misunderstanding his silence.

“I do,” he cuts you off firmly, crossing his arms in front of his chest. “I do mind.” 

The quiet sits heavy in the air for a second, and then you deflate, crestfallen at the way he shut you down. Your eyes glue themselves to the floor as you shift your body to try and subconsciously make yourself smaller on the couch. (Kix feels like a pervert noticing the way your dress shifts to reveal more skin). He sighs trying to think of how to explain this to you right now.

“I mean that in the sense that I care about your reputation, as well as my own,” Kix explains, wanting to undo whatever hurt he causes. 

“I don’t want them thinking I’ll take advantage of you when you’re not sober.” You seem placated by that, nodding quietly. It’s a logical reason, one that spares your feelings, but it’s cold. Not at all what you had wanted him to say.

And if he understood you correctly, you had liked the idea of having sex with him, had been pleased with the idea of everyone thinking you were together. (His codpiece feels uncomfortably tight). The thought sits with him for a minute, stoking his ego as he basks in lust that travels through his body.

“And if I were to fuck you, it’s going to be when you’re in your right mind and can remember…everything.” 

Something white hot and primal has hijacked Kix’s brain, a need to let you know you’re not crazy and the desire isn’t one-sided. He’s left staring at you blankly, heart racing as he lets himself slip into a vague daydream that involves making you squirm and pant on this little couch. Another time. If you'll let him.

“Oh,” you say dumbly, staring at him. Sober enough to put the pieces together, but drunk enough to not string together a proper response. 

Fuck, maybe he shouldn’t have said anything.

“Oh,” he says back, watching as a slow and sappy smile spreads out on your face. Well, that’s a good sign. He slowly backs up towards the door, keeping his eyes on you. 

“Goodnight, Kix,” you mumble, smiling at him and pushing yourself up to rest on the couch. 

He feels a lick of heat rush through him at the site of your chest pressed against the arm of your couch, fishnet-covered legs kicked up behind you, eyelashes batting at him so prettily.

His eyes glide over the back of your upper thighs where the hem of your dress rests against your fishnet-covered skin. He wonders if you’d let him kiss your skin there, if you’d let him bite. 

In a matter of seconds, you’ve managed to reverse the upper hand he had, keeping him wrapped around your finger. Good. As it should be.

“Goodnight,” he chokes out, exiting your apartment and leaning on the wall next to the door as it slides shut and locks. 

He wishes he could hide in his bucket. He knows his face is flushed, and he can feel his cock twitching. 

Oh, this is bad. He shakes his head a little as he pushes off the door, heading back to the lower floors. With you, he forgets himself; with you, he feels like a person. Very bad, indeed.

The noise of the Coruscant streets bombards his ears, making it harder to think, but he’s grateful for the somewhat fresh air. It’ll be nice to clear his head as he heads back to the barracks.

But it’s a fool's errand to believe he’ll be thinking about anything but your lips and that swath of skin on the back of your upper thighs.