#he’s not dead or anything but it was a full ass year ago and i still think about that vid from time to time

[anikaluv]

I'LL BE THERE —

❤︎︎ pairing:  Miles (e!42) × fem!reader

❤︎︎ genre: fluff

❤︎︎ cw:  stalking , Miles being a barbie kinnie, reader realizing there’s no escape lmao

❤︎︎ summary: Miles was your ex from a year ago, and you had completely moved on, blooming in your new life. So, why was he just now popping up everywhere?

❤︎︎ w/c: 800

❤︎︎ a/n: Was thinking about how Barbie has a million different jobs and went like, “What if that was Miles?”

E!42 MILES getting so frustrated in an argument you two were having; looked you dead in the eyes and spat, "If you don't like that shit, you can get up and leave."

E!42 MILES being genuinely shocked when that is precisely what you did, thinking this was just gonna be another one of the little squabbles you two were used to having

E!42 MILES realizing in the next following months that you could live perfectly without him and move on, while he, on the other hand, was going through the worst turmoil of his life

E!42 MILES deciding that whether or not you wanted him in your life, he needed you in his. So he was going to get you back no matter what

E!42 MILES turning around to greet you with a cheeky grin on his face at the cafe you’ve been a regular for the past 6 years as the barista going, “Hello precious, ¿Qué será para ti hoy? (What will it be for you today?)”

E!42 MILES ignoring your look of surprise as he jots down your usual order that he already has memorized and then has the audacity to look back into your eyes and ask, “Can I get a name for the order, please?”

E!42 MILES a few days later watching as you pull in your cart full of groceries to checkout and couldn't help but laugh mischievously when your jaw dropped when seeing that he was the cashier. (He made sure to scan your items very slowly)

E!42 MILES becoming the bus driver of the bus you took every day to work. Pulling up to your bus stop, opening the doors, tipping his hat, and greeting you with a playful smile. "Mornin', mi vida (my life), pretty day, ain't it?", ignoring your eye roll as you stepped onto the bus.

E!42 MILES who “coincidently” ditches the home gym he’s been using since he started being the prowler and starts going to the exact same gym as you, sucking in his breath when he sees you squat in those tight seamless shorts

E!42 MILES who’s happy to treat you and your niece to some ice-cream at the park inside of the ice cream truck he now works at, playfully chuckling at you as you arrogantly shoved the money into his chest.

E!42 MILES sitting comfortably in a salon chair at your normal nail salon as a nail tech, ready to paint whatever design you desire on your delicate fingers

E!42 MILES who types into his computer at your local bank as your bank teller, prepared to enter in your weekly / monthly checks when you walk in. Taking your check out of your hand to observe it, acting shocked like it’s not its about the same amount every time. “Woah, cariño (darlin’) , did’nt know my girl worked this hard.” (He was proud of you, he knew his girl could achieve anything she wanted on her own )

E!42 MILES who welcomes you openly to his salon chair at your favorite hair salon when your usual stylist “happens” to be out of town going, “Hey mami, you want the usual?”

E!42 MILES at your library organizing books loudly while you’re studying for a important exam, holding his finger at your lips when you’re about to explode and scream and whispers, “Baby, this is a quiet environment, quiet your lips f’me aight?”

E!42 MILES clocking in as your yoga instructor at your yoga studio only on the one day of the week you go, wearing a purple headband with a tight tank top and yoga pants that showed the ass you didn’t know he had. You groaning as he does doggy style shouts, “Thats it ladies! You want to really arch your back like this!” while smirking. (Kelly Clarkson’s “What doesn’t Kill You Makes You Stronger” is playing in the back)

E!42 MILES who works at your local mall at Nike on one knee in front of you happily assisting you put on one of the pairs of shoes, locking eyes with you the whole time wearing that smug grin he always got. (When he was finished you kicked him in the face before he got up, but lets be honest, he probably fell in love more)

E!42 MILES being on the plane you were taking to move and get away from him. Wearing his flight attendant uniform and slowly making his way down the aisles. Finally getting to you and turning to you as that cute scowl appears on your face while nonchalantly saying, “Would you like some pretzels, ma? They gluten-free.”

E!42 MILES chuckling loudly when you downright ask him why was he following you everywhere like a stalking creep, amused that you haven’t gotten the message yet

E!42 MILES picking up your chin to make you give him all of your attention, leaning down to where your lips brushed against each other, and spoke in a quiet tone no one else heard,

“Doesn’t matter where you go or what you do conejita (bunny), I’ll be there."

ENDING A/N:  Is this really extra and extremely unrealistic, damn right. But its funny.

TAGLIST: @janaeby @bellstwd @nmgstuff @axeoverblade @zaddyskye69 @agstuffsworld @spidrstar @laylasbunbunny @missusmorales @popeheywardssecretgf @lumineliax @fukingsad @wisteriaflowersss @crxss01 @joliety @fiannee @sylisan

TAGS:

[kairolee2004]

I feel like this would be impossible but— HEAR ME OUT!

Imagine if- as a young child, you lived in Texas and had a close friend that you would even consider your best friend. Thomas Hewitt..

And when your younger teenage years came around, your parents moved you out of Texas and all the way to England.

You live there still in your mid twenties and decided to get a job. A Nanny job to an English family by the name of the Heelshires. Of course you thought is was for a real child but it turns out the nanny job is to take care of a life-sized porcelain doll. The two parents tell you that the “doll” is named Brahams… Supposedly, the real Brahms perished in a fire 20 years ago, and he had apparently rejected several nannies prior to being introduced to you. As Mr. and Mrs. Heelshire leave for their vacation, you are given a list of rules to follow in regard to their son.

Turns out, the bastard wasn’t dead but better yet, living in the walls and stalking you. He had become obsessed and in love with you. How couldn’t he? You were so damn perfect and gorgeous… you needed to stay forever. He tried to keep you all to himself. But you got away with only one suitcase.

You tried to think of a place where you know Brahams would never think to try and look for you. Somewhere completely different from where you were right now… how about Texas?

Making your way all the way back to Texas, you decide that it wouldn’t hurt to see some old family. And head on over to the Hewitt family house. When you arrive, you of course see Luda may and charlie (Hoyt) but you don’t see Tommy anywhere. You ask about him to Luda May and she calls for him… you weren’t ready for what you saw.

Tommy wasn’t the same old little boy who was shorter than you, smaller than you, quieter than you- no.

This was a full grown ass man with 2 feet towering over you and more than 200 pounds of muscle to over power you. And when you say he was “quieter than you.” You meant it. As kids he didn’t talk much and now he still didn’t say a word. It was his eyes.. yelled and screamed with ruthlessness. His eyes seemed as if he saw stuff. They weren’t innocent like they used to be. If looks could kill, you would have dropped minutes ago.

Yet his actions spoke other wise. When he first saw you, he was stiff, kinda like when a bull walks around in a china shop. With the intention of not breaking something so precious and fragile. He didn’t want to break you.

Next thing you know, your body without mind, walks towards him and hugs him. He is stunned for a second before he engulfs himself around you. In a protective manner, a way of saying ‘I’m not letting you go…’

You felt off when you hugged him. Sure it was nice when you saw your childhood friend once more but then again… he wasn’t at the same time. This place was different, this family too. They all were dark souls that were covered with a normal family persona. It was wrong.

Luda May promised that you could stay one night and in the morning you could hit the road again. You felt no reassurance behind those words.

As you got ready for bed, you opened the one suitcase that you took from the Heelshire house, you were frightened… you had some clothes in there and some essentials but one thing was out of place. Brahams porcelain mask. You knew how much this mask meant to him… and he would do anything to get it back. Even if that meant going 4,669.21 miles just to get it back.

Later that night in the bedroom, as you were about to fall asleep, you heard blood curdling screaming coming from the basement. As you made your way down from your room, you saw a young woman burst through the basement door and she was covered with blood. Not far behind her, followed Tommy. He looked at the pathetic women, then at you. He looked terrifying… you didn’t move, only stared.

The young woman screamed at you for help, that was until Tommy revived his chainsaw and killed her with it. This couldn’t be real- right?

Reality hit when all of a sudden, Tommy came over to you and held the side of your face softly. And looked into your eyes. He didn’t want you to be scared of him.

You over lapped your hand over his and held it without saying a word. Slightly leaning into his touch. He helped you stand up and held the back of your head, with the other hand on the small of your back.

You let your head lean against his chest. This was wrong on so many levels… you both knew it. Yet it didn’t stop both of you. This was a silent moment needed.

Well… that was until you heard his voice again. The fear of which you knew was bound to come once more.

“(Reader), Why did you leave me?” Brahams child voice appeared right behind of Thomas. When he turned around, he was there. Brahams of course didn’t have his mask but rather yet, pieces of the porcelain dolls face glued together. It was a sight to behold.

Both men stared at each other… you couldn’t tell what they were thinking but you could definitely tell what was about to go down.

Oh no …

Could you imagine that?

I swear! These two men got me by the throat- ;/;

I absolutely adore these two masked men, and I mean come on how could you not!?! <333

[littlechivalry]

Are You For Real?

Established Steddie, post season 4, everybody lives, Halloween

*

It has been ten years since they closed off the Upside Down and all of the Party are full adults. Steve gets to have his independence, he doesn't have half a dozen kids relying on him for rides to the arcade and/or survival.

So why does he feel pinned in place by Erica Sinclairs flat, implacable stare.

"I don't have to do this," Steve sputters. "Starcourt was a long time ago and anyway I promised you that ice cream under duress."

She doesn't say anything but her eyes narrow and her spine stiffens in a way Steve knows he can't fight.

"Come on," he begs. He hasn't worn a coordinating Halloween costume in years and he has no intention of starting now.

El's beseeching eyes and the devilish grin coming from Max on either side of the other girl only help to chip away at his resolve.

"Scoops Troop is forever, Steve," Erica said and she wasn't wrong, they had been through too much to deny it so he gave in.

"Fine. But I want to be Sporty Spice."

"Oh no," El said. "Robin is Sporty Spice. She said you would be Posh."

Two weeks later found Steve tottering into the Hideout in a black mini dress and four inch tall wedges.

"Cannot believe you get to be Sporty Spice," he hissed to Robin. "You are the least sporty person I have ever met in my life. And I know Henderson."

"Counterpoint," she muttered back. "You think I can walk in those shoes? I would die, Steven. Do you want me dead?"

"Oh, grow up," Erica said. "You two are ruining the whole effect."

"Easy for you to say," Steve said, gesturing to Erica's outfit.

Her green tank top and blousey satin pajama pants weren't much different fron Robin's outfit.

He turned to El. "You get it, right?"

El looked down at her outfit, a baby pink dress and chunky white sneakers. She looked at Steve, concerned. "I do not understand. I think I look very nice. You look nice too, Steve."

He shook his head as El and Erica took Robin's hands and hauled her further into the crowd.

"I'll wait for the others," he called out after them, a wave from Erica the only acknowledgement.

Steve felt a hand slap his skirt covered ass and startled, heels wobbling underneath him. He turned sharply to see Max grinning fiercely at him. "Looking good, Harrington."

Before Steve could return the compliment for her Ginger Spice costume and matching decorated arm crutches he heard a low whistle and saw Eddie Munson walking up behind the redhead.

"I'll say so," he said, his voice low and growling.

Steve could feel the heat rush in his cheeks and it deepened as he saw his boyfriend's gaze tracing the flush down to where it covered Steve's mostly bare chest.

Steve clears his throat roughly, pulling his focus away from Eddie and back onto Max. He ran his fingers over the new bleached blonde streak in her hair, laughing as she pulls away. "You couldn't come to me for this? What's the point of knowing a hairdresser if you don't let them do your hair?"

"Aw," Eddie said, pulling Steve's hand away from Max and threading their fingers together. "She can't help it if she wanted someone cool to bleach her hair."

"Cool," Steve repeated, laughing, using their joined grasp to pull Eddie along as they walked through the crowd. "If she wanted someone cool to do her hair then she definitely would have come to me."

Together the three of them made their way to the bar where the others were waiting.

Steve disengaged from Eddie and took the cocktail Robin offered. He watched as tequila shots were distributed to the other girls and winced, both because of their impending hangovers and also because it was weird to seem them drinking. They were still kids. They were his kids.

Eddie stepped closer, resting his chin on Steve's shoulder. "They're all grown up, aren't they? Where have the years gone?"

Steve tipped his head to the side and leaned against Eddie. "Landslide, right? Children get older, I'm getting older too."

Eddie hummed and leaned back, pressing a kiss to Steve's cheek. "My Stevie knows Stevie. You know, your music taste is my favorite thing about you."

Steve laughed at that, a sharp bark that set Eddie grinning, sharp teeth on display.

The laughter drew the girls attention back to them and Steve leaned into Eddie as Erica approached.

"It's time, Steve."

Steve looked to Eddie before turning back. "Its not... I never actually agreed to this."

"Scoops. Troop."

"Time for what, Stevie," Eddie asked, laughter in his voice.

Steve sighed before tossing back the rest of his drink. He handed his glass to his boyfriend before pressing a hard kiss to his mouth.

He dropped Eddie a wink before whispering, "You'll see," into his ear and steeping away as a heavy electronic beat started pumping over the sound system.

Steve found his spot standing behind Erica as she began to sing.

Yo, I'll tell you what I want, what I really, really want

[neiptune]

aot boys x guilty pleasures

a/n: this is me being self indulgent and having a lil fun so forgive the shitposting but also feedback is always appreciated mwah

eren loves the shit out of nature documentaries you'll leave him alone one saturday night and you'll come back to find him sprawled on the couch watching life of mammals or some shit on netflix lmao you'd be on a date and he'd get suddenly excited enough to hit you with random facts like “btw did you know that the average blood pressure of a giraffe is around 300/190?” he'd literally barge in rooms with a “babe omg hummingbirds are like the only birds that can fly backwards” and you'd just be sitting on the toilet with a very unimpressed look but he's cute 12/10 would make a good park ranger or whatever

armin is lowkey obsessed with youtubers like he legitimaly sits down and watches hours on end of unboxing/reaction videos or travel vlogs jfc and it's always the dumb stuff ya know like person x unboxing the same phone in 10 different colors or person y reacting to drake's new single and THAT controversial lyric. it's exhausting really he'd be in bed at 3am still going through chrissy's 27 min travel vlog about some bali vacation gone wrong and don't even get me started on drama and internal feuds or breakups oh my god he has a whole playlist of breaking my silence videos on youtube to keep track of who's said what so he can pick the best side

you've introduced jean to the world of fandoms and fanfiction and at first he was all like nah that's too weird but now he has his own ao3 account and eats the weirdest most hilarious shit up, will also use acquired terms in the wrongest way like you'd be watching bridgerton together and he'd suddenly nod to himself with a OOOO TRIGGER WARNING THEY BOUT TO FUCK lmao he's obsessed tbh his twitter is filled with commentary on random chapters he's screenshot and that I WILL GO DOWN WITH THIS SHIP titanic gif posted over and over again like no honey you will not we've moved past that 10 years ago

oh god connie is such a chronic playlist creator he'd have one for EVERYTHING and he genuinely spends hours selecting the perfect most appropriate songs and titles for each one, you best believe before you first started dating he's made one for you called “i like you idgaf about your boyfriend” which came with a weird ass mix of sweet stuff like just the way you are by bruno mars and cash shit by megan thee stallion lmaooo he's so random he thinks he's good at it too and you don't have the heart to tell him that “get down dirty bedroom sexy lapdance music” ain't a good title. it's kinda attractive that he's not a music snob tho like he'd be blasting country music classics while cooking, rap mixtapes when he's taking a shower or full on broadway showtunes when driving, he also has a cute voice that cracks on higher notes but it secretly turns you on how deep in the moment he is while screaming to defying gravity in the car

levi gets a weird kick out of serial killer documentaries or real footage of their interviews/trials, also listens to A LOT of true crime podcasts and TAKES NOTES about the most interesting cases to check if he'd be able to solve the unsolved ones and he'd always test you as well? you'd be reading a book in bed and he'd plop next to you with a dead serious look on his face asking shit like “would you help some random guy with a cast on his arm carry his bags?” 🤨 out of the blue like ?????? baby that's kinda weird can you not but it's really just him trying to flex his big big brain thank fuck he's not an actual cop he'd be insufferable (and way less hot)

to absolutely no one's surprise reiner's guilty pleasure has to do with you, the man's all about you (and hockey), you've asked him to take a bath with you once and now not a single motherfucking week goes by without him looking at you big big puppy eyes asking “bath???” most evenings after work. it doesn't even have to lead to anything he's just content basking in warm water and bubbles with you in his lap, he gets to massage shampoo into your scalp if you want to wash your hair and is now a pro at creating the perfect atmosphere with oils and dimmed lights and omg don't even get me started on candles, he's memorized your favorite scents and now also has his own preferences, catch him walking around a yankee candle store at least twice a month, girls working there ask this big scary grumpy guy if he needs help and he'd reply with the softest most polite & specific hi hello yes actually i need to stock up on sparkling cinnamon and snow globe wonderland tyvm

porco 100% checks his naked self out in the mirror lmaooo i know this shouldn't count as something people wouldn't believe he'd do but it's kinda a guilty pleasure i guess??? he finds putting clothes on a lil depressing and knows he's hot. sometimes you'd catch him doing that after showering and the man would be so fucking thirsty for compliments cause what is he supposed to do with muscles and abs and prominent biceps if you won't drool over them a little? he's annoying & also gets soooo whiny if you don't indulge him like :( do you not think your dashing boyfriend is cute :( while flexing, also always tries to convince you to take your clothes off as well for “inspection purposes” to which you simply flick his forehead lol whether you end up pressed against that very mirror 10 minutes later it's between you and him xoxo

[merrygay]

The Ghoul's dilemma

Cooper Howard x Vault Dweller! Reader

Warning : NSFW, Dark Themes, reference to cannibalism, afab reader. English is not my first language. I’m bad at writing synopsis. I’m bad at writing in general in fact.

Synopsis : Kill you, claim you or ruin you ? hard to choose.

He looks at your eyes, then your lips, he seems lost in his own thoughts, it wasn't like him to be so troubled, but now the infamous ghoul is fighting with his inner self.

Part of him wants to take you, claim you as his own, forever more, until the pit of hell swallows him whole if it still hadn’t already. 

He was a walking sin, a rotten old man with nothing but impure thoughts along side you, oblivious to everything despite your efforts to adapt to this world ending in failure. 

He could just kill you and be done with all this torment, he could just be the reason for your awaiting death, because it has to be, you should have died a long time ago, you weren’t fit to this world and he wasn’t fit for you.

But despite all of this he decides to spare your life, a selfish decision on his part, but surely you don’t mind do you now ? You don’t really have a choice considering your high percentage of chance being dead out there in the wasteland if you were alone.  

After letting you live, he thought he would sell you to the organ harvester. At least you would be useful to him, he told himself, denying the fact that the only reason he spared your life was because of how possessive he had slowly become of you.

Cooper thinks he has the upper hand, after all, the ghoul holds your life in his palm, but in reality you have him wrapped around your finger without even knowing it. 

He’s still a grumpy old man who’s too proud to admit his obsession infatuation towards you.

And then there’s one night

You pressed your body against him so suddenly, your shirt rode up just enough to reveal the beginning of your breasts, which made him freeze not expecting your sudden movement, you were usually too scared of him to even approach him on a daily basis.  

"I thought I told ya to keep your damn space," he grumbled. But his words trailed off as he noticed your sleeping form, completely unaware. His eyes lingered on your body, frustrated by the shirt that did nothing to help his resolve. Your intoxicating scent was almost too much for him to bear. 

200 years old, he had outlived practically every person he had known, yet he couldn't even keep himself in check because of some naive girl. He cursed himself.

But oh no no, you are not just any naive girl, are you? After all, he had met and killed tons of stupid women, but you? He can't quite pinpoint why he wants needs you. Perhaps it's a primal instinct that keeps growing as you stay beside him. Maybe it’s because he wants to eat you? Was that it? Yes Maybe it is his growing hunger for you.

With just one easy movement, he could easily be on top of you, roaming his hands all over your body, unsullied by the radiation or anything for that matter, just a perfect doll to play with. 

He could just ruin you. Bite you, lick you, taste that delicious body while being inside of you. Taking all the innocence that is left for his own sexual pleasure. Never stopping, pumping you full of his cock. He would be nice enough to wipe away your tears as you can’t help but whimper and moan. 

“Fuck.., yeah I know shh i know darling’, i'm a bad man i’m bad bad man” he would grunt while he spreads your legs wider to give him more access.

“S-sir ?” you say nervously. You were fully awake by now realizing the mistake you made, you rapidly moved away from him. 

Your voice brought him back to reality, he didn’t realize he was fixing you all along. 

“I'm sorry i didn’t do it on purpose” you gulped. He was silent for a second before readjusting his hat while turning his back to you.

“Git back to sleep, ain’t haulin’ ya sleepy ass tomorrow”

He felt his pants tighten, which only fueled his annoyance. He would deal with it later, once you fell back asleep, succumbing to the very same fantasy.

The ghoul had a huge ego, too confident, but right now he was desperate, and you made him like this. 

[the-90s-music-colosseum]

Round 4 Match 4

propaganda below the cut! (massive wall of text warning)

Miki Berenyi:

"shes the most beautiful woman i have ever seen. her hair is amazing and she's just gorgeous idk what else to say or how to fathom her beauty"

"I met miki berenyi a few weeks ago and shes the coolest and nicest person I've ever met so down to earth and nice and lovely which imo makes her incredibly hot"

"Founding mother of Shoegaze"

"I want to hold miki so tenderly and tell her jokes that make her laugh like we’re childhood friends and have a sleepover where we do each others makeup and then fuck so nasty the neighbors get alarmed and debate with each other whether or not to call the cops"

Brian Molko:

"Gender"

"IM GOING TO EAT HER. He is soooo beautiful and freakish and small and weird and girlfriend and tiny like a little princess bug fairy. Literally gorgeous she has to win"

"When he flipped over the table with the little limp wrist.... someone find the video"

"1998 woman of the year"

"Brian Molko is peak gender envy, gender bending and being yourself without caring about other people's opinion, on top of all that he is a great guitarist that writes amazing songs"

"Brian’s gonna win this. I think we all kinda know that."

"Tumblrinas would be nothing without Brian molko"

"Kills her kills her kills her kills her kills her kills him kills her. He's my everything <3"

"He came 10th in the list of hottest women sometimes in the 90s. Gender goals."

"No one in the world can sound so nasal and look so angelic....."

"don't you wish you had his gender"

"Single-handedly took my gender by the scruff of the neck and threw it in a washing machine at full speed. He talked about not expecting to "get away with" passing as a woman to the degree that he did when he started purposely presenting feminine. He talked about the importance to fuck with people's heads through his appearance and behaviour, the importance of ambiguity. About how being in the band allowed him to do stuff he couldn't have done otherwise, to exaggerate some of his traits. He had the fuck ass bob makeup nail polish dresses stuff down, but not in an overly sophisticated way, especially in the early career 90s days the vibe was more shabby punk rock chick. Also he fantasized about being in an all-girl band called Skirt and playing guitar and singing backing vocals in drag. According to a 1997 melody maker interview bandmate steve hewitt called him "the most confused woman he's ever known". And if you go down that rabbit hole there's just more of this. Lots of material to focus on if you like genderweird bisexual unclean libertines (song ref) who will just say Anything in interviews. It's fun."

"I've drawn him as saints and martyrs such as saint sebastian and joan of arc. Or all bloody lying in a wet alley after being thrown out of a club. Or unconscious on a snowy road. Or dying in a glue trap. Or shocked after seeing a dead body. Also as a nun and as rose mcgowan in the doom generation. This is because I'm normal."

"She's a sick little angel faced freak. My theythem girlboy queen. He reminds me of an ant. He's like 5 foot 4 or something. My goth girl boyfriend. <3"

[sugawhaaa]

NOOOO MY XDINARY BRAINROT IS SO SO BAD RN TOO!!!!

I keep thinking about bunny hybrid junhannie going into rut and fucking the daylights out of his owner <33 promising to breed them full of his kits, babbling about how he cant wait to give them his mates mark </3 WORMS!!! HYBRID HEROES BRAINWORMS!!!!

HYBRID JUNHAN ONE-SHOT

🪐♡��˖ °🪐♡✧˖ °🪐♡✧˖ °🪐♡✧˖ °🪐♡✧˖ °🪐♡✧

I can't help myself

Warnings::SMUT/some vulgar language

Genre:: it's kinda implied that the reader is female but it's never really said, breeding, hand job, nipple play, creampie (don't try this at home kids (╯✧▽✧)╯)

Pairing:: bunny hybrid!Junhan! X female bodied!reader

A//N:: I WAS LITERALLY THINKING ABT WRITING HYBRID JUNHAN LIKE...YESTERDAY I'm usually not super into hybrid prompts but Junhan being a hybrid just makes sense 🤌 he'd feel guilty and embarrassed but would also jerk off to images of you 24/7

You weren't oblivious to a hybrid's heat. You've had your bunny hybrid, Junhan, for about 3 years, and every year around spring and early summer he goes through heat. He usually manages it very well. He talks to you about it but it's never very serious...perhaps it was because he was so young.

Now he's a lot older and you'd think that he's learned ways to manage his heat and impulses but this time it's all different.

It was around mid May when he woke up one morning, his ears perked straight up even though they're usually pretty droopy. He didn't pay much mind to it and went downstairs to you. You waved at him with a little "morning baby!" And his heart skipped a beat. His face turned red and he cleared his throat.

"M-Morning" he replied and sat down at the kitchen table. You raised an eyebrow at his odd behavior.

"Is it that time of year again?" You leaned on the table, unintentionally showing him your cleavage. He looked away, his ears flicking up again at the tip.

"Yeah," he said as his eyes tried to avert from you but he couldn't help it. You stood up again and continued to look through the kitchen for breakfast.

"What do you want to eat?" You asked.

"Oatmeal..." he said softly as he watched your body move swiftly. Your waist, your hips, your ass...he felt so bad but he couldn't help but stare. He watched you intently.

That day was about a week ago and ever since he's been distant from you. He'll hang out with you during breakfast and dinner but almost never aside from that. You weren't a fool either. You heard him in the dead of night masturbating using whatever he could find, a pillow, sock, his own hands, anything that could satisfy his needs. Every morning he'd have dark circles under his eyes and his ears would always be straight up. You knew this happened usually when he was turned on or hard.

Eventually, you had enough of it. You were worried about him and after dinner, you demanded that he talk to you in your room. You crossed your arms and Junhan sat on the edge of your bed. His ears drooped back, flat against his head.

"What's going on?" You ask abruptly. "I know you're in heat but you've never been so distraught. Usually, when you masturbate it's only for a little while and you know when to stop but I've heard you at 3 in the morning," you explain and Junhan turns red.

"W-Well..." he pauses and you decided to speak up again.

"Not to mention you hardly eat and you're not going outside. And back to the masturbating, you're using whatever you can find that somewhat resembles a sex toy. You even used my electric toothbrush as a vibrator!" You blurt out. You sounded a lot more angry than you were.

"I'm sorry!" He bowed his head on your bed. You looked at him shocked. "I-I Don't know what's wrong with me this time but I just can't stop myself. All day and night I'm so horny and there's nothing I can do about it! I masturbate for hours on end but nothing helps. I thought I might need to be more intense so I used other things to simulate toys and things," he explained with upset eyes. "It's so hard..." he looked at you with drooped ears. You hugged him and he looked shocked.

"You should've just told me," you pet his ears as you speak. He nuzzles into your shoulder as you hug each other. He accidentally grinds himself on your thigh as you hug but you ignore it. His ears flutter against your hand, softly petting them.

"I'm so horny," he cried out in a broken voice. "I just want to fuck you so bad," he whimpered and you chuckled.

"Okay," you pull back and start to take your shirt off. Junhans ears straighten out.

"Wait, wait, wait," he waved his hands around and you stopped what you were doing. "Are you sure? Like I mean literally. I want to-"

"I'm sure." You cut him off and continued to take off your shirt. Junhan watched intently. Watching how your body moved with so much skin exposed. "Cmere," you said as you pulled him close. You took off his hoodie and shirt. His hips subconsciously bucked against your hip as you held him. Little breathy whimpers escaped his mouth. As soon as you leaned back against the head of the bed he lost all his composure. He leaned down and kissed you passionately, his body pressed against yours as he kissed you.

There was no thought in his touch, he just wanted to feel you. Your body, your lips, your most sensitive areas. He wanted it all and you were giving it to him. He bit down on your neck suddenly and you jumped. He sucked on the skin leaving a red mark on your lower neck. He continued this a few times but he got bored quickly. It was apparent he just wanted to cut to the chase. One of the straps of your bra fell down your shoulder and his ears twitched at the sight. You smiled and put your arms behind your back to unclip your bra. As soon as it fell his eyes lit up, his ears straightening again.

He licked your nipples softly and gently, just grazing his textured tongue across your sensitive skin. He loved to hear your soft whimpers of pleasure but it just wasn't enough for him. He craved you more. He needed more of you.

Junhan moved lower to the waistband of your pants. You nodded and he took them off, leaving you in only your panties. You put your hand on his chest before he could continue, his ears drooped back as he looked at you. "Here, let me help you out a bit," you said as you gently pushed him to lie down. Junhan laid back and waited for your next move. You undid his jeans and he blushed, his ears still tucked back. You took off his boxers as well, finally freeing his precum-covered erection. He bit his lip and looked down at you through fluttered eyes. You gently wrapped your hand around him and his breath hitched.

You slowly started moving your hand up and down, watching how his entire body reacted. As you picked up the pace his moans got louder. His knees jolted forward every now and then.

"I'm gonna cum," he whimpers out before grabbing the bed sheets. "Please, please," he whimpers as his back arched, pushing your hand down to the base of his cock. You continued at a steady pace before speeding up, finally letting him release. His cum dripped all over your hand and down to his base. His body twitched lightly as his ears curled. "I wanna breed you so bad," he whimpered out as he looked up at you. His eyes weak.

You looked at him surprised. He had never been so straightforward before. "Are you sure?" You asked softly, finally releasing your grip on him. Your hands sticky and wet. He looks up at you with the most desperate and eager eyes. His ears fell back as he looked up at you, his lips slightly parted. You caved in and nodded. You pulled down your panties and tossed them to the floor with the rest of the clothes.

Junhan looked you up and down. If this was an anime his nose would be bleeding and drool would be pouring from his lips. You laid down on your back and Junhan loomed over you. He bit his lip impatiently waiting for you to give the okay.

"Okay, start slow," you smile and he finally pushes inside you. You gasp as he fills you with his hard cock. You take a deep breath and Junhans ears stay straight up. He slowly starts thrusting into you, letting you adjust.

"I want to breed you so bad, fill you with all my cum and you'll take it all," Junhan mumbled as he tried to hold back his thrusts. He wanted to rut into you like this was the last time he'd ever get to fuck, but he didn't want to alarm you.

You look up at him through hazy eyes, seeing his long black hair all over his face and the lust in his eyes. You hold his shoulders and he just can't resist anymore. He starts pounding into you to the point your whole body shakes with each thrust. "You're going to keep every single last drop of my cum inside you," he groaned as he held the pillow next to your head. "I can't wait to mark you, you'll be mine," he smirks as you become a moaning mess.

You start clawing at his shoulders from the pleasure, little scratches present on his shoulders. "That's it, baby, you're so tight," he mumbles. Every word that comes out of his mouth slurs into the next. "Keep every drop in that tight pussy," he hisses before gritting his teeth. His head falls forward and his ears fall back.

"I'm gonna cum," you whimper out softly. Junhans eyes light up at your statement. Your words encourage him to thrust faster and harder. You throw your head back and arch your back. "Yes!" You moan out as you're just about to tip over the edge. With one final hard thrust you both cum at the same time. You feel his hot semen fill you up as your body convulses from pleasure. Junhan leans down and kisses your neck softly as sweat drips from his forehead, his cock still buried so deep inside you.

He chuckles softly from the rush of pleasure. "Fuck I needed that," he laughs as his hand runs up your body.

"You wanna do round two?" You smirk and Junhans ears shoot up.

"Of course," he smiled and pulled out of you. "Let's catch our breath for a minute first," he sighs as he throws his head back, sweat dripping down his neck to his chest. While he's cooling down you move into a doggy style position in front of him. Junhans eyes light up as he sees your ass out right in front of him for his taking.

"Ready when you are~" you hum happily and Junhan can't help himself. He pushes back into you quickly. You jump and grab the pillow in front of you. Junhan grabs your hips and holds you steady as he pulls out of you and then back in even harder. The sound of your skin hitting each other echoes throughout the room. "This position feels so good," you moan as your eyes roll back.

"Good," he hisses and increases the pace. Your tight walls sucking his cock dry. "You better keep all of this cum inside you, I'm gonna fill you so much to the point you're going to burst," he smirks and claws at your hips and ass as he pounds into you. You feel his length continuously hitting your g-spot and you feel like you're going to explode from pleasure. Junhans hand creeps up your back and grabs your hair in a tight and messy ponytail. He pulls your head back and you moan loudly. "You're so close darling, I can feel it," he smirks as he thrusts into you faster.

"Y-Yes," you whimper as your orgasm approaches fast.

"I can't wait to fill your little pussy again," he mumbles as your moans become louder. Junhan groans deeply as he feels his climax approaching. This knot in your stomach is just about to burst when he finally hits your G-spot one last time. You come undo beneath him but he doesn't stop. "Just a little more baby," he grunts before finally climaxing, painting your insides white. He lets your hair go and let's the rush wear off the both of you.

You let out a calm sigh and he pulls out. He lays down next to you and looks at your face, your hair a mess. "Did I go too hard?" He asks softly as he brushes back some of your hair.

"No, it was perfect," you smile. "And besides, as long as your happy I'm happy,"

[weird-an]

It's the first pride Steve ever goes to. It's 1986, he's in San Francisco, far away from Hawkins and its horrors, walking along the street with Robin.

She grins and Steve can see it in her eyes, a new sense of belonging, a relief, a we're not alone, shining brighter than the sun. Behind them someone yells the theme: "Forward Together, No Turning Back".

He feels like there is a wound in his soul and now it's like the words pull the splinter out. He never wants to go back to Indiana again.

He turns around the corner, following the masses and he gets so distracted by all the shirtless guys, he nearly bumps into the one in front of him.

"Sorry," Steve says, his mouth hanging open when he comes face to face with Billy Hargrove. Who died at Starcourt a year ago.

Billy who blinks at him, blue eyes full of life and now- confusion. He's still rocks his mullet, only now he's wearing a pink scrunchie. He isn't wearing a shirt. There is a big scar just below his sternum, thin lines stretching from it towards his shoulders and abs like an exploding star. There is glitter on them, sparkling in colors of the rainbow.

Robin's elbow hits his side. Steve is staring, but he can't look away.

"Eyes up here, Harrington." Billy snaps his fingers in front of Steve's face. "What are you doing here?" he says accusatory like he isn't the one thought dead.

"Because I belong here," Steve snaps. It has taken so much time and nearly dying at the claws of Demodogs and the teeth of bats to break down the barriers of what he thought he had to do and what he wanted to. No fucking way he's going to let Billy say anything against that.

Billy stares at him, scars glittering in the sun.

"Same," he mumbles. Steve's pulse stutters for a few seconds.

Billy then grins boyishly at Steve, reminding him of the Billy who rubbed against him at practice and always stole his soap in the showers, the one he rarely got to see and never did against after the sad excuse for a fight at the Byers' house.

"Steve Harrington! As I live and breathe." Billy laughs and slings his arm around Steve's shoulder. "A fucking queer like me."

"Yeah," Robin interrupts. "How are you still breathing, Hargrove?"

Billy rubs his chest, one arm still around Steve. A bit of glitter stays on his fingers.

"No fucking idea," he says. "I just know I wanna get wasted tonight."

Robin opens her mouth to possibly ask a million questions, but Steve's mouth is faster. Even though he didn't plan on saying anything.

"Can I buy you a drink then?" he blurts out.

Billy nearly trips. Steve laughs into his ear. He made Billy Hargrove stumble. By asking him out. This is the best day of his life.

"Fucking unbelievable." Robin rolls her eyes.

There is a shade of pink on Billy's nose and it's not from the sun. "I promised Heather I'd at least make it to-"

"Heather?" Robin's face lightens. "Holloway? Is she alive, too?"

"You bet your ass, Buckley," a voice behind them says. "Let's ditch these idiots after the parade."

Heather winks at Billy, a similar pink scrunchie in her hair and popping a bubble gum with the same color.

"Bitch," Billy says without malice.

"But your best one." Heather blows him a kiss and grabs Robin's arm.

Billy grins at Steve. Steve grins back. He wants to kiss him on his thin blond mustache. Maybe he will, tonight.

Forward together, no turning back.

[reindeerswillsavethisworld]

Corpse au case fic where the trio decided to try cracking a murder mystery, except instead of angst it's a comedy of errors where they make everything worse.

Like. Danny comes out of a portal dead and translucent and glowing, and there's charred remains of a human body on the floor. So now all three of them are freaking out, and instead of asking for help, or finding an adult, or telling literally ANYONE, they decide to just. Get rid of the body. As one does.

So that's what they do: they break out Tucker's nice shovels (because god forbid Sam's family owned something as pheasant as a shovel, and Danny's too afraid of touching their family's Patented Fenton ShovelsTM for... reasons), they find a nice desolate clearing in the woods, and then they bury Danny's body like one would a very unfortunate hamster who met their demise too soon under very suspicious circumstances. They even stay at the new "grave" in silence for a minute or five in respect and DEFINITELY nothing else, you know. And so, they bury the body, and then they (try to) forget the experience as some horrific nightmare.

And then, a year later, there's an uproar: the Amity Park's police department found the child's remains in the woods! And you see, Amity Park is not THAT big of a town, and the police estimated that the body belonged to a 14-15 year old child, and, look, there's only so many schools in a small town, alright. Obviously, the rumours start very soon in Casper High: about how the kid could've gone to their school, about how they could've died, about whether or not anybody was missing them, about their identity, and some definitely-truthworthy-would-I-lie-to-you-bro-come-on sources insist that the kid was murdered around a year ago, around the time ghosts started showing up. And these rumours obviously reach the ears of Sam, Danny and Tucker.

Now, you would've thought that their first thought would be something like "oh no, they found Danny's body", or "oh no, they know", or even simply "we're sooo fucked". Except. You see, the night they buried the body? It was really cloudy. And dark. And, y'know, it's very easy to get lost in a forest. And they were too high-strung, you see, they completely forgot to leave some sort of a marker or anything. And also like, it was so long ago, you know? A lot have happened, they were sooo busy and the likes, you can't really blame them for forgetting some things.

And here's lies the problem: all three of them just fucking forgot that there was a body left to bury at all.

And then it gets out that the police can't even conduct any sort of DNA test because it became corrupted to the point of being absolutely unrecognisable due to exposure to a large amount of ecto-energy.

It's now looks like a bad set up for a joke: an identifiable body of a child, cause of death unknown; the probable involvement of ghosts or at the very least a very large quantity of ecto-energy; a probable murderer on the loose, which naturally breeds suspicion and speculation; a town full of all kinds of rumours; and a trio of absolute dumbasses, who after hearing that ghosts were involved immediately went to stick their noses where they don't belong.

Rejoice, Amity Park! Sam, Danny and Tucker are now on the case! Except they are all teenagers, and nobody in their right mind will allow teenagers to solve a murder case. Plus, them poking around would be highly suspicious, but Phantom, on the other hand?

(people seeing Phantom helping solve this case and coming to the conclusion that the ghosts were definitely involved was not on their bingo card, but oh well)

They don't go to the cops, obviously: Danny at least in part because he's worried they will call GIW on his ass or try to arrest him, and Sam and Tucker simply because fuck the cops (one because the police is involved in a militaristic, capitalistic corrupted system that breeds injustice and furthers the divide between average people and the wealthy, and the other because cops suck and will probably call GIW on his friend's ass). They also can't go to any other authorities: cops are out of the question, as is the mayor; laboratory personnel will most likely just throw them out; and there're no witnesses or known relatives, so they're stuck.

Therefore they decide that desperate times need desperate measures, and so they enlist all of their ghost allies on a quest, hoping to find the ghost of the kid. Considering the amount of ecto-energy they were subjected to, they MUST have formed a ghost, they only need to find them.

Except. The Ghost Zone is a big place, and they only have so many allies, even if some of them are a queen and a god. So Danny bites the bullet and does the most stupid (debatable) thing he has ever done: he goes to his enemies for help. They're surprisingly understanding and willing to help, even if some of their reasons are a little... strange (Skulker and Johnny entered some sort of competition on who finds the ghost first, Box Ghost starts to seek out coffins (??) and Youngblood is not above to start torturing people to finally have a friend that is not either an adult or a complete stick in the mud). And even then they still can't find the ghost.

In the end Danny goes to Clockwork in a desperate hope that he will be able to glimpse at least a little of what had transpired on the night of the murder, and to Danny's annoyance Clockwork laughs so hard he almost pops a ghost equivalent of a blood vessel.

A few weeks down the line Sam hesitantly brings up Danny's buried corpse ("MY WHAT" "Your corpse which we buried in the woods, Danny, don't you remember?" "Yeah, bro, I think you dissociated the whole time we were digging the hole and carrying your dead body" "WE DID WHAT-"), reasonably saying that, you know, they ALSO technically buried a body in the woods. On that Tucker just shrugs because obviously it was not Danny's body, the place of the burial was way off, he remembers that there was a really big stone to the left of the grave (he doesn't and there wasn't), so they are in the clear. During that exchange Danny's sitting on the floor and having a panic attack, because he really did dissociate the whole time and afterwards legitimately forgot that there was a body to bury at all.

After that conversation all three of them leave with a certainty that Danny's body is still there where they left it, whenever it was. And so the shenanigans continue.

[things-arent-what-they-seem66]

Adam Swapped Au Part 3

For making 900+ followers! Thank you everyone! 💖

TW: Mentions of rape

When Adam woke up he felt so well rested, the bed he was in was so comfy he never wanted to leave. Slowly he opened his eyes and frowned.

So it wasn't a dream he was actually still in Hell, very fucking pregnant and the devil's wife apparently.

Fuck him.

Adam groaned as he made his way to the bathroom to clean up for the day, Lucifer was nowhere to be seen and that was just fine with him.

There wasn't much in the way of clothes he could wear, there were a bunch of maternity clothes. Adam grumbled as he pulled on fresh sweat pants and a long shirt (NOT A DRESS) and went downstairs.

Adam furrowed his brow when he could hear voices coming from the lobby. It peaked his interest when he heard his name.

"I hope Adam is okay, maybe some sleep will do him good." Lucifer said as he paced in the lobby. Something was obviously wrong but he couldn't shake the feeling.

Charlie fiddled with her braid. "You don't think that he was, you know?"

The thought had crossed Lucifer's mind that maybe Adam had been kidnapped, raped, and left for dead. But for this long? He wasn't sure, Lucifer had to find out if the baby was his.

After all, they did sleep together before he went missing.

"I don't like to think about it Char. Maybe I'll take him to the doctor's just to make sure everything is okay." Lucifer needed a professional opinion to see what was troubling his husband.

"Don't I get a fucking say in this? I don't want to go to no gay ass hospital with you." Adam growled as he entered the room. He sat down on the couch looking completely pissed off.

Lucifer needed to be delicate, Adams mood swings were not one's to fight with. "We just want to make sure you're okay."

"Of course I'm not fucking okay! That little bitch of a maid you have in the shit hole stabbed me in the back 28 fucking times!!" Adam roared his eyes ablaze, his back throbbed at the memory.

Lucifer and Charlie's eyes went wide. "What!? Nifty did you stab him?" Charlie looked to her little friend who looked very confused.

"I would never stab one of the baddest boys, hehehe."

"Adam, do you remember anything from before you disappeared seven months ago?" Lucifer asked, he came over to sit beside him.

Adam snorted. "I haven't been missing, this is some nightmare joke! You're married to Lilith who has been missing for seven YEARS."

"Lilith." Lucifer spat out her name as if it were poison. "I bet that bitch is behind this."

"I wouldn't put it past heavens commander dad."

It clicked for Adam then, he was in a universe not only married to Lucifer, but him and Lilith have fully switched places in the entire storyline!

Adam felt himself get emotional, why was he crying!? He couldn't stop himself he was full on sobbing now. Adam felt arms wrap around him and he didn't seem to mind, they were actually comforting to him in the moment. "Shhh, it's okay it's not your fault."

For some reason Adam believed it cause what the fuck, this whole situation wasn't his fault he never intended on being an alternate universe version of himself. Especially one that apparently has Lucifer's babies.

-

They did end up taking Adam to the hospital to get checked out.

It had been super awkward getting a vaginal exam, Adam was sure his face was as red as a tomato. The doctor concluded that there were no signs of sexual assault which everyone was relieved about.

"So we are looking for a paternity test for the baby?" The doctor asked.

"Yes." Lucifer answered, not knowing was killing him. Adam was curious himself.

Doctor nodded and pulled up a needle. "Okay, I'll extract some amniotic fluid to test."

"That's not going where I think it is, is it?" Adam asked, panic setting in. That fucking thing was huge!

"You won't feel a thing your majesty, I swear."

Adam didn't believe him.

It was uncomfortable at best but he still didn't like it. There was a rush out in the results to be tested against Lucifer's DNA.

Adam crossed his legs and groaned, that fucking sucked.

-

It took an hour for the results to come back. And it was determined that the baby was in fact Lucifer's baby.

The King sighed in relief. One mystery solved.

Part of Adam was even relieved, at least his other self wasn't some slut having the baby of some random John, Dick, or Jerry.

Lucifer would put money on it that the reason for Adam going missing and having no memory, but also memories of a life that never happened on Lilith.

She never could get over letting Adam go. Her and Steve were, ironically, a match made in Hell.

If Lilith and Steve were behind, they would pay for this.

[eris-snow]

8. 𝐒𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐀 𝐆𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭

Tags:bakugou x fem!reader, juxtaposition, detective bakugou, hacker bakugou, fluff in the midst of angst

There’s a light at the end of the tunnel. One must grasp it before the tunnel caves in.

January 6 20XX

You have to give Katsuki credit, because the dude was dedicated. Not only that, but he could do things that you found difficult with ease. Such as, well, talking to someone.

"Aizawa-sensei says that the foolscap was outdated from 10 years ago. Apparently, it was the same ones he used when he was in U.A. It spanned a good ten years, so at the very least, they haven't walked off the fuckin' earth and died yet." The ash blond announces, flopping on the ground next to you. It was the first day officially back from winter break, but Katsuki was as unfazed as ever.

Back when people were still being potty-trained, Katsuki was practising hours a day on the piano in between kindergarten and card trading with the guys. That's what made him the best, and half of you was glad to see that part of him was still the same.

Focus, you tell yourself. Now isn't the time to get distracted!

"They could be anywhere in the country. With my luck, anywhere in the world." You counter. "Or maybe the one with my condition has poofed out of existence—"

"Stop it with that," Katsuki knocks his knuckles against your forehead, making you reel back at the contact. "People stop writing for all sorts of reasons. They could have cracked the code, or had a fallout, who knows? Shut up and be optimistic. I can't afford you spiralling."

You make a face at him. "You've changed."

"I'd be an asshole if I didn't." He replies, not missing a beat.

You're still an asshole, you want to point out, but you hold your tongue. He's trying to help you, after all.

"Any idea of what course they were in?" You ask instead. "It'd be easier if it was a hero, high profile is good."

"There's a phone number on the paper—"

"That has been changed and is unavailable." You finish. "It's a dead end."

Katsuki huffs, folding his arms. "It's a lead."

You snort loudly, holding back your laughter. "You've changed a lot—"

"And you're an idiot." He refutes. "You can track a phone even after its number is changed. I can get a hold of the IMEI number—"

"What are the chances of someone keeping a phone for over a decade?" You scoff.

"What other chances do we have of finding these pieces of shit?" Katsuki counters.

Biting the inside of your cheek harshly, you sigh. He has a point.

—

February 20XX

The plan, unfortunately, did not work. Either someone had used the phone beyond repair, or it had already been destroyed.

Brilliant.

Katsuki lets out a growl of frustration. It took him a month to find out how to track this guy. A month. And yet you were no closer to finding these grown-ass men.

It was around that time that you started to bring newspapers of that time to the hall, scourging for any clues relating to that incident.

"If only we just knew what course this guy was in..." You mutter, consuming yourself with the papers.

Katsuki stands by the curtains with an unamused expression, hands full of yearbooks as he watches your eyes scan the papers with an immense amount of focus. He's come to know you for months at this point, and has started taking note of little things about you because the more he looks at you, the more he finds.

Like how you bite your lip whenever you're nervous, bite the inside of your cheek when you're irritated and tuck your hair behind your shoulder when you lie.

Like how terrible your piano playing is but you still continue, like how even though what you've been through is more mentally taxing than anything on the battlefield, you still—

It takes Katsuki a second that he's been staring at you for way longer than normal before he unceremoniously drops all the yearbooks on the ground with a loud thud.

You jump like a startled cat, glaring daggers at him as you scramble to get your newspapers away from him. "What the fuck, Bakugou."

His mouth coils into a pleased smirk. "Jokes on you, I'm going deaf. What was that?"

You groan, and it makes Katsuki's confidence ignite. There we go. This version of you, he can handle.

"What's the yearbooks for?" You ask instead, nearing the dusty stacks of bounded paper before flipping through them.

"I managed to round up the yearbooks from the people who still used this piece of foolscap when they were in school." Bakugou plops down on the ground with you. "It's just ten years. If we can go through every class and see if anyone has photo fucked with—"

"Photo fuck?"

"Has the same photo issues as you."

You raise an eyebrow. "Not one of your best works, Nickname Wonder."

"Whatever. Find someone with consistent photo issues throughout their time in U.A and we might be able to narrow it down."

"..."

"..."

"Seriously, photo fuck—"

"Shut it."

—

"Hey man, where are you going?" Eijiro bounds up to him like he'd shitted rainbows, and as much as he appreciates the ball of sunshine cramped into every cell in his friend, he did not want to deal with him now.

Still, he replied. "Training."

"Sick! I was just thinking of—"

"Not today." Katsuki picks up his duffle, checking the clock. "Meeting the nerd at Ground Beta. All Might wants to try something. Gotta run—"

"You've been real busy lately." Eijiro cuts off, blocking his path. "Look, me and the squad don't want to push, but...don't overwork yourself, okay?"

Katsuki almost snorts. Yeah right. Overworking himself was Izuku's job, not his. A tight schedule didn't mean a messy schedule. He'd planned enough time for sleep, eating, internship, training and hunting down people who may or may not exist.

He was being productive, not stressed.

" 'm not overworking myself," Katsuki mutters, sidestepping his red-haired friend as he walks out of the common rooms.

"Well, I'm here if you wanna talk things out!" Eijiro calls.

Katsuki gives a grunt as a response as he pushes the door open.

It's not like Eijiro would remember anyway.

—

The list of possible victims is done by the end of the week, and Katsuki takes the liberty to go for a slow walk around the school to hunt down his teachers and interrogate them. He'd like to say that he's made a good amount of progress, but Katsuki doesn't lie.

The entire procedure is pretty much a coin flip. He can confidently eliminate one or two, but can't ever be sure for the remaining. Were they just forgotten with time? Did they drop out? What if they went undercover?

A handful were even in the General Course, and getting in touch with those alumni was even more difficult.

"Look," Aizawa stares at him tiredly. He looks like he's on his 5th cup of coffee and that his eyebags can carry weights of lead. "I see you from Monday to Friday non-stop. I wish to be alone on a Saturday morning so I can mark your papers and get them back to you on Monday next week. So for God's sake, get out of my face."

"I'm trying to save someone." Katsuki prevents the door from closing with his foot, staring up at his teacher with raised eyebrows. "And from what I heard, heroes don't get breaks. Let me in, Sensei."

Aizawa squints at Katsuki. He may have lost his leg, and pretty much his quirk, but Katsuki's still sure that Aizawa kicks ass. All Aizawa had to do was say the word, and he'd get booted out.

Wouldn't be the first time.

Even so, his teacher lets him into his lair of unwashed coffee cups and Post-it notes wonderland. Katsuki doesn't bat an eye.

"Doesn't ring a bell." Aizawa shrugs, crossing names off.

"Nothing? Cause this guy was in your class." Katsuki yanks out a yearbook and slams it on the table, flipping to the bookmarked page.

On it, is a class photo of 17-year-old Aizawa surrounded by his classmates all those years ago.

"It's been a decade and a war," His teacher snaps. "Give me a break."

As his teacher's eyes survey the picture of his youth, Aizawa's finger hovers over one person's face.

"Oh, I remember him."

Katsuki's breath catches.

Aizawa-sensei trails his finger down to the names, circling the name of the face he'd pointed out that was streaked with blotchy ink.

Imasu Saito.

"He was one of the top students in our year, until his third year. Kept disappearing after class and even ditched. Dropped out right before graduation."

A thin thread circles the name, bright red just like his eyes.

This isn't just a throw-away line.

This was a lead.

"Tell me about him."

Surprised by the sudden interest, Aizawa continues. "I don't know. Last I checked, he was still living with his parents. Could be anywhere by now."

Heat burned in his throat. This could mean something. "Kenji Tanaka," Katsuki urges, iterating the name carefully "Did Saito...know Tanaka?"

Aizawa gives him an unamused expression. "Flattered to think you expect me to remember my classmates' names. And to answer your question, I wasn't even aware that there was a Kenji in my class. Now looking back, I doubt I ever interacted with him at all."

Katsuki groans, slamming his head on the table and sending paper scattering everywhere.

"Fuck humanity. This is what I get when I try to be a little fuckin' nice."

Well, a lead's a lead. Best to take advantage of it, no matter how small.

Aizawa raises an eyebrow, slides a hand to the mini-fridge and cracks a can of Red Bull.

He offers it to the blond wordlessly.

Katsuki swipes it from Aizawa's hand.

Best fuckin' teacher ever.

—

Katsuki shares his findings with you when he plops down in the hall later that evening, and you take turns to share yours.

"There's this guy that made headlines for one news issue." You show him the newspaper, and on it, he reads it out loud.

"20-Year-Old Claims The Existence Of The Non-Existent: The Hottest Flat Earther Theory."

Katsuki almost crumples the sandy paper in his hands. His mouth feels just as dry.

"Bullseye."

"Despite the catchy opening, it didn't do well. The news didn't stick, and there are no follow-ups in the issues before or after it." You push the paper down, causing Katsuki to look into your eyes. "This guy was—"

"Imasu Saito." Katsuki finishes, watching you nod in agreement. "A name. We have a name."

Katsuki looks at the decomposing tabloid, seeing gold. "Alright, spit it out. How did you even manage to find this? There were so many companies and articles—this isn't even from a big-name company. This could have taken years to uncover."

You wriggle your fingers together, shrugging. "Let's just say being invisible has its perks. And the internet. No one bats an eye towards me when I went through their archive."

"Their?"

"It's a long story."

Shrugging it off, Katsuki refocuses on their task. They have bigger fish to fry.

"We need an address." You tell him. "Do you have an address?"

Snorting, Katsuki gives you his most 'are you crazy' look. "Who do you think I am? God?"

"No, you're Katsuki Bakugou," Your eyes sear with confidence. Katsuki's felt that look somewhere. The pure, raw, doubtless look of trust behind those eyes.

He's definitely seen it somewhere before.

"You've risen from death and beat someone twice as powerful as you. You've bounced back from setback after setback. You're the winner of the Sports Festival and the top in Battle Simulation, and you've hacked into systems with firewalls so strong people on the other side of the screen think you have a Tech Quirk. You can find one measly address."

Well, when you put it like that, what is Katsuki supposed to say? Deny?

Puffing up his chest, he levels your gaze.

He can do this.

He can do this, and he will.

—

A week to the end of February, there's a text from Bakugou captioned "Look, at what I've got, you little shit."

On it, is an address of a residential apartment.

—

25 February 20XX

Katsuki could only get a permit to leave school on Friday, so it's the tail end of February when you leave school. It was only at this moment, did you allow excitement to swell in your chest. You're making progress. Much more progress than you had in years.

It was enough for you to start believing that there was hope for you after all.

And Katsuki was helping you.

Plugging the address in the GPS leads you both to your destination 30 minutes of U.A., and as you stand in front of a door with a fist raised, you glance at Katsuki.

He gives you a subtle nod.

Closing your eyes, you knock.

Please let him be home, please let him be home, please—

The door creaks open, and the door chain clinks as a lean man with lengthy limps peeks out. His eyes are cobalt blue, and when he looks at Katsuki, he squints.

"What do you want, kid?"

Wordlessly, Katsuki points to you, as if it explained everything.

All the trouble it took to find this stupid goon's house, led to one too-tall man that looked like he had survived a trainwreck.

Sunken eyes hollow, eyebags prominent, and body far too thin.

The man's orbs widen as he blinks rapidly, only just noticing your presence, even though you're standing right in front of him.

"Are you Isamu Saito?" Your voice is small, as if any louder would cause the floor to fall out from beneath you. "If so, I'd like to talk to you about this."

Rifling through your bag, you pull out the decade-year-old foolscap encapsulated in a file.

He just stands there, blinking, unflinching, mouth falling agape.

The door slams in your face.

At first you think that he wasn't who you'd assumed he was and that you had somehow gotten the wrong house.

But before the panic can sink in completely, you hear the door chain jingle as the door opens wide. The man's gaze of you is pitying, and he speaks directly to you for the first time.

"I'm Isamu Saito. Please, come inside."

.

.

.

8 Months, 2 Weeks, And 2 Days Until Time Of Death.

[bella-rose29]

'tis the damn season

requested by anon: can I request a Lockwood x fem reader based on tis the damn season by Taylor swift?

for anyone that's confused, when I'm talking about temperature in degrees, I mean degrees Celsius because I'm English

also lockwood goes by Anthony because it's written from the perspective of both him and the reader, who knew him as Anthony (the others still call him Lockwood)

Word count: 10.4k (Jesus Christ why can't I write this much for my assignments)

Warnings: NO HAPPY ENDING, I REPEAT, THERE IS NO HAPPY ENDING, THEY DO NOT END UP TOGETHER, I CRIED WRITING THIS, like two swear words, mentions of Lockwood's family being dead, Lockwood was sort of an ass in the past, it has been proof read once and only once

Tag list: @anathemaloren, @augustisintheair, @avdiobliss, @briar-rose23, @dangelnleif, @el-de-phi, @ell0ra-br3kk3r, @informedimagining, @karensirkobabes, @mischivana, @mitskiswift99, @mrsklockwood, @mrsyixingunicorn10, @no-morning-glories, @novelizt, @ran23sblog, @superpositvecloudshipper, @t2sh0, @taygrls, @tournesol77, @whenselenefallsinlove, @wordsarelife

As always, let me know here if you would like to be added to or removed from my Lockwood and Co tag list <3

Anthony Lockwood had actually slept last night, and for once he didn't look like he'd just come back from the dead.

His eye bags were still visible of course, but less prominent, and Holly remarked on it when he walked into the kitchen to make himself a cup of tea. Lucy was glued to the morning paper, practically at one with it. Surprisingly George was too, cramming himself into the tiny amount of space that Lucy had left for him to read the article.

"What's new then?" Lockwood asked, and Holly shook her head with a smile. Without even looking away from the paper, Lucy answered, excitement lacing her tone.

"Y/n L/n's in London! She was seen coming out of the airport yesterday afternoon and is apparently staying in a hotel not too far from here! George and I were gonna go see if we could spot her after breakfast." Lockwood had frozen at the name, shaking himself out of it barely a moment later and ignoring the questioning look that Holly had given him. George and Lucy were too busy examining the paper to notice anything.

He busied himself with his tea, asking if anybody wanted a mug (they all already had their own), then popped a couple of slices of bread in the toaster and giving it a thump when it didn't start working right away. In the time it took for his toast to be made, Lucy and George left, the wind outside making the front door slam behind them as they chattered excitedly about the famous actress who was so close to them.

Holly didn't move, instead looking up at Lockwood every now and then while she wrote a list for the shopping they needed to do later, and eventually he broke. "What? Why do you keep looking at me like that?"

"Like what?" Holly asked, attempting to be innocent.

"Like that! You're doing it again! You're looking at me like I'm hiding something from you, and it's making me anxious!"

"Is there something you want to share?" She raised an eyebrow, and Lockwood felt himself shrink slightly under her stare. "Why'd you freeze up when Lucy said her name?" He froze again, for longer this time, and he had to turn away so that Holly couldn't see the vulnerability he was sure was on his face. He did it under the guise of washing out his mug, tea long since finished, and the pair of them were silent for a while.

"We... we grew up together," he sighed, pausing his movements. "She used to live on this street, right at the other end, and our parents were friends. Then... then we got older, and we dated, and they were the best years of my life." He smiled to himself, still not facing Holly but knowing that she was paying him her full attention from the way that he couldn't hear her pen scratching. "And then two years ago she left for America, to go and be what she'd always dreamed of being, and she became this great actress and I was still... here. We broke up, of course. She'd never be able to do long distance. Actually," he frowned "neither would I. We both need to be physically close to the person we're going out with, so it wouldn't have worked. We didn't exactly end things in the best way either. It's been easier to just try and forget, to be honest."

"But... if you were together two years ago, then how come George and Lucy haven't said anything? How come none of us knew?"

"We kept it a secret. She'd already been acting for a good few years and people were starting to recognise her in the street, so we figured it would be best if we kept to ourselves. Neither of us minded; it was nice to have something that was just for the two of us, you know?" He had turned around while he was talking, and Holly nodded her agreement. "I didn't think she'd be coming back to London, to be honest." His voice was quieter now, almost fearful of what would happen if they bumped into each other while she was here.

The letterbox clattered in the hallway, post falling through and landing on the floorboards, and Holly left to pick them up, casting a glance over her shoulder as she went. Lockwood didn't notice any of it, too caught up in his memories to do so, and when Holly came back with yet another stack of envelopes with 'IMPORTANT' stamped on the front in big red letters he sighed, already doing the mental calculations of how much money they would need to make in the next few weeks to not fall behind in paying for their debts.

~~~

Y/n L/n was not staying in a hotel, but instead was at her parents' house on Portland Row and hanging up Christmas decorations around the rooms (her parents had managed to hold off decorating until she came home), singing along to the music that poured out of the old speakers her father had somehow convinced her mother to keep.

She had hired somebody to pretend to be her while she stayed in London, preferring the privacy of her family home to the constant reporters and journalists and fans that always swarmed around her. Not-Y/n was being paid handsomely for her trouble, and so far she was doing an excellent job. There weren't going to be too many sightings, and for the most part Not-Y/n would stay in the hotel (in the finest room they had), since Real-Y/n was easily recognisable and anyone with a keen eye would be able to tell the difference immediately.

She'd thought she'd seen Anthony the night before as she pulled up and parked her car beside the park that they used to play in together when they were kids, but it was fleeting and the figure had disappeared around the corner before she could take a closer look. Not that she knew what she would have said if it was him, given how things had been left.

She'd initially wanted to keep up with his life when first in Los Angeles, but since there was no Problem there news about ghosts was scarce, and the time difference was troubling enough that she didn't want to call on the number he'd given her in case he was busy, or, even better, actually asleep. It had been too easy to make excuses for not contacting him, and she figured that if she'd really wanted to know what he had been up to and who he was friends with she would work out the time in England and ask him.

She never did, of course. Life got too busy for her to remember the love that she'd left behind, and the only time she thought about him was when she had a moment to breathe; a gap in her schedule, a break during filming, or worst of all when she was lying awake at night, unable to sleep because she was so used to having him with her. Her mind would replay every moment, every touch of his hand on her body, every laugh that they had shared, every kiss, and it was torture.

It was torture because in the end he hadn't fought for her like she'd thought he would.

Her mother passed up baubles to hang near the top of the tree (why they had such a tall one Y/n had no idea; it barely fit in the living room) while her father awkwardly untangled the lights that were going to wrap around the bannister, stopping every now and then to dance (badly) to the music. Her mother laughed at him, then grew annoyed when he didn't listen to her and refused to hand over the lights for her to sort out, then laughed again when he finally got them free and held them up with a "tadaa!"

An hour or so later the house was covered in tinsel, lights and other decorations, and Y/n pulled on her boots and thick coat in the hallway. "I'm just going for a walk, let me know if you need anything!" Her parents shouted back, providing goodbyes and a few items to pick up from the corner store, and then Y/n was off down the street, her feet splashing through puddles from yesterday's rain.

~~~

The bell tinkled as Y/n pushed open the door to Arif's, warmth immediately greeting her as she moved further in and let the door swing shut behind her. Arif looked up from his place at the counter, smiling widely when he saw who it was and coming around to wrap her in a tight hug. "There's my favourite customer! How have you been! Tell me everything!"

~~~

Forty minutes later Y/n was on her way again, arms laden with shopping bags that contained the things her parents had asked for and many, many gifts from Arif that he'd meant to drop off for her family. The cold air greeted her, the wind picking up and making her hair tangle, but Y/n found she didn't mind too much. Seeing Arif was worth the sting on her cheeks. She was so caught up in the joy of seeing him again that when she walked past a young man on the pavement, she nearly tripped over when she recognised him as Anthony Lockwood. He moved to steady her out of instinct, too much of a gentleman to let her fall and her groceries spill, and her heart almost stopped at the feel of his warmth so close to her body and his hands on her upper arms.

"Are you alright?"

God, just hearing his voice made her miss him all over again, but her stay in London was only temporary and she could never torture him by making him wait for her. He sounded almost pained, like he was aching, and it only made her feel worse that it was probably her that put that ache in him.

"Uh, yeah, I'm alright. Thank you," she tried smiling, the action hesitant as her eyes searched his for any sign of, well, anything. He smiled back, faint and far away, but his hands stayed on her arms and hers remained on her shopping bags, so close to him that all she needed to do was reach her finger out slightly and she would brush against his coat.

His coat.

He had a new one; nicer, more expensive looking, and covered in fewer plasma stains than his old one had been, but the style was the same and so typically Anthony that Y/n felt her heart crack at the memory of them all over again.

Sometimes, when they'd snuck out to a cafe in the outskirts of London (which took them a while, but it was worth every minute), Y/n would shiver from the cold air of the evening and Anthony would scold her with a playful 'tut tut', offering up his coat and saying that he was getting too warm anyway (a lie, she knew that he was cold too). Other times they would be in her living room, watching old films from before the Problem on her television, and Anthony would drape his coat over them as a sort of blanket. He always asked why they couldn't just use one of the actual blankets that Y/n and her family had strewn around the living room, and Y/n would always give a vague reply. He knew the real answer of course, since he knew her better than she knew herself, but he only ever smiled at the knowledge that she just wanted to be surrounded by his presence.

Now that coat was gone, although if Anthony hadn't changed then he'd most likely kept it somewhere for safekeeping, unable to part with it entirely. It still felt as though he'd replaced his old life with a new one, filled with great exploits and adventures, and no room for Y/n.

"Are you sure you're alright? It looked like you nearly face planted just now, and you're shaking a little bit." His smile had gone entirely now, replaced with a concerned frown, and Y/n realised with a start that she was shaking, and she had no idea why. Maybe it was the cold (which had become worse in the last hour), or maybe it was the shock of seeing Anthony so suddenly, but her body was reacting to something and her mind was having to play catch-up.

"Just need to get home and get warm, I think. Dad's put the fire on. I hope." Now it was her turn to frown, brows drawing together at the memory of all the previous times her father had attempted to light the fire, often smoking out the living room in the process. Her mother always told him how it should be done, but he was insistent every time that his way was the right way, and every time he was wrong. "It's a lot colder out here now, and I don't think that my scarf is quite up to the job anymore. It's not far now, really." She was starting to ramble, unsure what to say when he was looking at her like he was, his expression smoothed over and neutral but his eyes conveying all the words he wanted to say.

He'd always been that way, and no matter how hard he tried to hide how he really felt from her, Y/n was able to see through it immediately. This time was different though, not because she'd stopped being able to read him, no. No, she could read every emotion in his eyes, the problem was that she had no guide to help her interpret what any of it meant. He seemed to be happy, but sad, and angry but also not, surprised, scared, adoring: the list went on and on, and she had to look away.

"Well... let me walk you home," he said, and now she could see his emotions clearly and only a couple at a time; timid and hesitant, two words one would not normally use to describe Anthony Lockwood. She dimly registered herself nodding, not protesting too much when he dipped to snatch a couple of her bags from her and started walking in the direction of her house. He stopped suddenly, and Y/n almost crashed into the back of him, sliding a little on the small patches of ice that had started to form. "Are you... are you staying at your parents' house? I know you said that your dad put the fire on, so I just assumed, but I don't want to-"

"Yes, I am, so stop chattering. I'm freezing my tits off out here," she joked (although the cold was definitely settling into her bones and her limbs falling off was absolutely a possibility), and he gave a small smile in response, starting to walk again.

The atmosphere was strange; on the one hand it was nice seeing him again, walking alongside him the way that they used to and just being near him. But on the other hand it was awful, everything that had happened the last time they had seen each other replaying in her mind. Neither of them had acknowledged it, the previous holiday that they had spent together lingering in the air like a bad perfume and suffocating her. It was more like they were actively avoiding the subject, opting to pretend that it had never happened.

They had been so happy, too, and then she'd had to tell him that she was leaving and everything was ruined.

"Anthony? I need to tell you something," she had said, her voice soft in the quiet of Anthony's library as the two of them sat curled up in the large armchair in front of the fire. It was a rare occasion where the other members of the agency were out on a job, and Anthony was home, so he had called Y/n over for an hour or so. He had hummed in response, not opening his eyes as her fingers stroked through his hair, and as such he missed the worry on Y/n's face.

"What is it, Angel?" He'd insisted on the nickname for her when they'd first met, and she didn't have the strength to say no to him when it sounded so sweet in his mouth. All she had done was hold up a bus so that he could catch it, but he was determined that she had saved his life like his 'own personal guardian angel' (his exact words). Then when they saw each other again, barely a week later, he'd lit up with joy, running over and calling out "Angel!" as though it were her name (although in fairness she hadn't ever told him her actual name).

At that point, warmed by the fire and Anthony's body, she hadn't wanted to ruin the moment by telling him her news, but he had pushed himself up from where he had been resting his head in the crook of her neck and looked at her with concern in every inch of his body that she blurted it out.

"I'm leaving England." Those three words hung there in the air between them, and Anthony took only a few seconds to register the words before he was starting to pull up his guards and walls and block her out.

"You- You're what?"

"I'm leaving England. Moving to America for work. I got offered a job that could change my life and I can't say no. The money is insane, Anthony, and god knows that we need it what with the state of things right now. And I know that you would never let me but you could have a bit of it- no, don't be like that," she scolded as he went to protest, his pride making him refuse any help. "You're drowning in debt so the least you could do is let me pay for your weekly shop or something." She trailed off, hoping her tone hadn't sounded too defensive, and when she tried searching his eyes for any sign of emotion she found that, for the first time, she couldn't see anything. They were dull, not even a brief flicker of sadness, or pain, or anger, hell - even happiness she could have worked with. Instead he had shut her out, and that hurt more than anything else that he could have done.

"Congratulations. You deserve the job," he smiled, but it wasn't one of the ones that he saved for his friends and loved ones. He was smiling as though he was performing, teeth shining as his cheeks pulled wide, and Y/n felt tears on her cheek. She had pushed him away after that, moving to stand up and collect her things. "Where are you going?"

"Home," she had sniffled, trying to desperately hide how she was feeling from him. She never normally did, not with Anthony, but if he was going to close himself off then she would do the same. "I think... I think we should break up. We both need to be near each other and that won't... that won't be possible." It had been whispered, the words filled with fear and sadness, and when Anthony only nodded in agreement, fake smile no longer on his face, Y/n had taken a deep breath and left.

Now, two years afterwards, they were side by side, making the short walk back to her parents' house in silence. Y/n couldn't help but steal glances at him from where he walked on her right (making sure that she wasn't walking next to the roadside), but at the slightest movement of his head her gaze whipped back to the path in front.

"How long are you back for?" His question startled her slightly, and she nearly slipped on a hidden patch of ice that had yet to be gritted over.

"I'm leaving just after the new year. Mum's ecstatic that I'm home for a few weeks. To be fair so is Dad, he just doesn't show it as much. I can still tell though." Anthony nodded, faint smile on his lips as he remembered her parents. They had always made him feel welcome, and he had loved them as though they were his real family. Then Y/n had left, and he had never gone back to their house. He saw them on the street sometimes, or he would pass them in Arif's, but it was always fast, no time to stop for a chat. "Are you... are you doing anything for Christmas or New Year's?"

"Oh. Not really. We'll probably be working a lot, since Visitors start popping up earlier in the day this time of year, and there's more of them too. Christmas Day I think George was going to cook, but he might still be on strike."

"On strike?"

"He says we don't respect his cooking enough, which is ridiculous because he's the only one that can cook, and his food is delicious. Anyway, he's gone on a cooking strike until he's satisfied that we love him enough." Y/n laughed, although it was more of a snort and a few huffs of air, and Anthony could only stare at her in wonder. He'd forgotten how much he missed her, but having her next to him, in the flesh, was making him wonder how he had ever survived the past two years without her.

They had arrived at her front gate, the metal covered in raindrops and snow that had tried to fall and melted, and Y/n pushed it open. The two of them went up the stairs and stopped at the top while Y/n adjusted the bags to open the door, and Anthony reached out to grab the few presents that threatened to fall as she jostled them. The front door swung open, letting out a wonderful burst of heat that made Anthony wish things were different so that he could walk in like nothing had changed, and Y/n stepped in, wiping her boots on the mat and toeing them off in the hallway.

"Where should I...?" Anthony lifted the bags he held, and Y/n beckoned him in as she shut the door behind him.

"Just dump them there. You can... you don't have to stay, by the way. If you don't want to, that is. I just shut the door to stop it getting cold." She was flushed, although Anthony couldn't tell if that was from the cold air outside or the awkward atmosphere inside. He was about to answer (he hadn't decided what to say yet) when Y/n's mother appeared from the living room, coming to investigate who had come over.

"Anthony? What are you doing here? It's been a while!" She pulled him in for a hug, and he found himself returning it just as tightly, squeezing his eyes shut and trying to not feel too at home.

"I was just helping Y/n carry bags," he said when they pulled back, and her mother nodded in understanding.

"Well can you stay for a cup of tea? Or do you need to get on?" She looked so hopeful, and he felt bad when he glanced over at Y/n and answered.

"I should get back, really. I left the others at home on their own, so I should check that they haven't killed each other," he joked, cracking a smile. He could practically feel the disappointment radiating off of Y/n's mother, and he went to make up for it. "But you know, if you're ever free then let me know. I'm sure we can arrange something."

"Oh, sure! Well don't let us keep you any longer. It was lovely seeing you again, Anthony." She gave him another hug, then waved as he opened the door and stepped out into the cold, and he was just wrapping his coat more tightly around him and closing the door behind him when he heard her say "Well he certainly got more handsome," and Y/n groaned in response.

~~~

The next few days were quiet, filled with cosy days in the living room and Christmas movies, so when the phone rang in the front hall it made everybody jump. Y/n's father got up to answer it (Y/n and her mother had insisted that they were too comfortable to ever possibly move), and when he came back a few seconds later he turned to Y/n.

"It's for you," he said, sticking his thumb over his shoulder in reference to the phone, and Y/n reluctantly peeled off her blanket to pad out into the hall.

"Hello?"

"Angel, hi." Her breath caught in her throat at the name, but Anthony was already moving on, clearly not realising that he'd said it. "I was wondering if you were free for a walk now? I think... I think it would be a good idea to talk, but I don't want to pressure you if you don't want to."

"I don't know... it's like minus two degrees out isn't it?"

"The churros van is out in the park?" She pretended to consider, but the churros was so good that she was already dreaming about it.

"Fine. Let me get my things."

"Perfect. I'll be outside in five." He clicked off, ending the call, and Y/n headed back into the living room.

"What did he want?" her mother asked (Y/n had heard her father tell her who it was on the line).

"To go for a walk and catch up." Not entirely the truth, but not a lie either. She was sure that they would do some catching up too, and not just reminisce about the past.

"Alright. Make sure you wrap up warm though, yeah? Weather forecast says it might snow."

"Yeah, I will. I'll see you later." She waved as she left the room, pulling on her boots and various winter clothes, and just as she fixed her gloves on her hands a knock sounded on the door. She swung it open to reveal Anthony, although he wasn't dressed nearly as warmly as she was.

"You look like a snowman," he said, amusement dancing in his eyes.

"Yeah, and you'll be a snowman soon. You must be freezing!" Anthony shrugged, seemingly not caring too much about the cold. Y/n wasn't having it though, so she moved backwards to pick up a thick scarf that belonged to her father and wrapped it around Anthony's neck. She felt his breath hitch at the action, and her own face heated up in response.

"Thanks. I would have been fine though."

"Shut up and let me stop you turning to ice."

~~~

The park was emptier than they had thought it would be, but then again there wasn't much there to amuse people other than the sad set of children's play equipment and the occasional food truck. Given the park's proximity to Portland Row, it had always been a great spot for Anthony and Y/n to play when they were kids, stumbling home afterwards to their respective ends of the street. The churros van had appeared from October through to the end of January every year, and it was a tradition for the two of them to get a cone every time they visited. Now they strolled through the park with their churros in hand, warming them with every bite and dropping sugar everywhere, and for the first time since seeing him the other day, Y/n felt somewhat comfortable in Anthony's presence.

"I'm sorry."

He had broken the silence between them, and all at once the memories came back and the peace was over.

"What for?" She knew what he ought to be sorry for, but she wanted to know what he thought he needed to apologise for.

"For not doing anything. When you left. I should have said something different and I was an ass. So I'm sorry."

Y/n could have left it at that, but he truly had been an ass and she felt she deserved more of an apology.

"You shut me out, Anthony. Completely. And that hurt, you know? Because we promised that no matter what happened we would never do that to each other."

"I know, and I'm sorry for that too." He stared down at his churros as it grew cold, and he placed the piece that he was holding back in the cone. "It just felt like I was loosing the one piece of my childhood that I thought I wouldn't ever lose, and I couldn't handle that. I thought I was doing better, but then you said you were leaving and it was like I was loosing my family all over again, and I couldn't-" he broke off, his voice too thick with emotion to continue, and he looked up and away from his churros to stare at the sky instead, blinking back the tears that were threatening to fall.

"I know that you've lost a lot of people that you love, Anthony, but you didn't have to lose me too." There was a pause where he looked guilty, mouth pursing and eyes watering, then:

"And now? Are you still lost?"

"I don't really know. I know we can't ever be what we were again, but I also know that everything apparently leads to you. I see things all the time that make me think of you and London, and sometimes somebody will say something that makes me automatically look for you, because you'd find it funny or ridiculous. And it's hard, being English in America, because everything is so entirely different, but it's a life that I would never give up. You understand that, don't you? Having a job that you willingly let consume you because you love it so much. So maybe I am lost in some ways, but that doesn't mean we can't try and find something beautiful again."

Anthony nodded, clearing his throat, and Y/n swallowed thickly to push down the fear that he would tell her he didn't want to see her again.

"Alright. I fucked up, and I paid for it. But I want you back in my life, if you'll let me have you. And I'll try to stay in contact when you go back. You know I don't have a proper sleeping schedule anyway, so call whenever."

"Of course I want to be in your life again, Anthony. Why else do you think I got so torn up about leaving you? I didn't want to, but I also couldn't pass up the opportunity."

"I know, I know." He paused for a moment. "I know." They walked on in silence for a little while as they continued eating their churros, until Anthony heard a stifled giggle from his right. "What? Why are you laughing?"

"What? No reason!" Y/n was smiling more widely now, unconfined joy filling her expression as her eyes darted over Anthony's face.

"Why do I feel like you're lying to me? What is it? Do I have something on my face?" Y/n tried holding back her laugh, resulting in a snort instead as she pressed her hand to her mouth. "I do, don't I. Have I got sugar on my face?"

"Just a tiny bit," she replied, giggling. Anthony reached up to wipe it away, but he had sugar on his fingers and his attempts only resulted in putting more on his face than he was taking off. Y/n was practically doubled over laughing now, and a few people around the park were starting to look over in curiosity, smiling when they saw the two of them. Anthony took his chance while she was distracted and pressed his hand to her cheek, slowly dragging his sugar-coated fingers down. Y/n stopped laughing, her mouth hanging open as she stared at him with incredulity. "How dare you. Really, how could you?" Anthony took his hand back, smiling proudly at his work, but he was too distracted by the happy feeling that was growing in his chest to notice the wicked glint that had come into Y/n's eyes, so the slap of sugar that hit his face shocked him.

"What?! You're a devil!"

"I thought I was an angel?" she asked, mock innocence all over her face. Anthony could only chuckle and shake his head, using his sleeve to wipe off what sugar he could from his cheeks.

"Why don't we call it even?"

"Fine, but only because it's the season for spreading love." Her smile was still wide, and Anthony had forgotten how much he missed it.

Y/n had missed his smile too, his real one, and when they started walking again they were closer together, arms brushing every now and then.

~~~

Two days later, Y/n was sat in her bed at home, winding down for the evening with a book when she heard a small tap against her window. She frowned slightly at the curtains, then went back to her book. She had barely read the next sentence when a second tap sounded, followed by a third a few seconds later. The noise was irritating, so she stood up and peeked out the window, pulling the curtain to the side to see into the dark garden. A shadowy figure was at the bottom, crouched down and rummaging in the undergrowth for something, and when they stood up straight Y/n sighed, putting her bookmark in place and her book on the bedside table. She cracked open the window a little right before the figure could throw another stone, and shivered at the cold air that snaked in.

"Anthony, what on earth are you doing?"

"Oh, hi! Can I come up?" Y/n frowned again, eyeing the trellis and drainpipe that he had used when they were younger to climb up the side of her house.

"Aren't you too heavy now?"

"I haven't put on that much weight! It'll be fine!"

"You know that you could just use the front door, don't you?"

"Your dad is still in the front room, and I didn't want to get stuck in conversation."

"Ugh, fine. But be quiet! And if you fall off I'm claiming ignorance!" She heard his quiet laughter from the base of the house, and then his small grunts as he hauled his body up the trellis and the pipe. Y/n stepped back, pulling the window further open and trying to warm herself up at the blast of cold air, and then Anthony was grasping the windowsill and asking for help as he clambered in. It took a minute to get him in; he was much lankier than he had been, his legs all over the place, and his height meant that he hit his head a few times, but eventually the two of them manoeuvred him so that he was safely inside. "What are you even doing here?!" she asked, closing the window and pulling the curtains closed again.

Anthony looked sheepish for a moment, lifting a hand to rub the back of his neck. "I couldn't sleep, which is normal, but Lucy is dragging us all ice skating tomorrow and I could do with the rest, so I was wondering if... if I could sleep here? Like we used to? You can say no! And I can leave!" His eyes were wide as he tried to reduce the pressure of his ask, but when he saw the faint smile on Y/n's face he calmed down, knowing that she'd made up her mind.

"Of course you can stay, Anthony. I'm not entirely sure that you'll still fit in my bed though," she looked at the bed, concern lacing her tone. "I think I saw some of your old pyjamas too when I was unpacking, but I have no idea if they'll fit."

"I'm sure it will be fine. You really don't have to do this, you know."

"I know," she shrugged, moving to her drawers and searching for the clothes. "But you always sleep better next to me, and ice skating is draining."

"I'm sure if you wanted to..." he trailed off just as Y/n pulled out the pyjamas in triumph, and she turned to look at him curiously.

"If I wanted to what?"

"Come skating with us. I'm sure the others wouldn't mind. It's at the place we normally went to as kids, and I'm pretty sure we're the only people booked so you wouldn't need to worry too much about being swarmed. Well, apart from George and Lucy, because they're huge fans, but they're sweet really. And if you do get surrounded then we'll fend them off for you. Of course," he continued at her silence, "if you're busy then I don't want to make you feel pressured. I just thought that I would offer."

"I mean, I'd have to check with my parents, but I'd love to, Anthony. I can't promise I'll be any good though, it's been a while since I last went skating."

"There's no skating in LA?"

"There is, it just... it wasn't the same without you."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

Anthony took the pyjamas from her, his heart skipping a beat when their fingers brushed against each other in the exchange.

"You can use my bathroom, if you like. You know where it is."

He changed quickly, folding up his day clothes and placing them in a pile at the bottom of Y/n's bed, then tentatively got in next to her. She was right, the bed was a tight fit for the two of them, and his feet were poking out the end of the duvet, but he wouldn't change a thing about it. He finally felt at home again, lying here next to her, and when she reached over him to turn out the light she didn't move all the way back, instead opting to lay her head on his chest and wrap an arm around his waist. He tangled their legs together, brought his own arms around her body, and fell asleep minutes later, the rise and fall of their chests in sync.

~~~

Y/n was woken by her mother the next morning who was bringing in tea, and she made a startled noise at the sight of Anthony in Y/n's bed. He was still asleep, so Y/n hastened to quiet her mother, quickly explaining the situation (and firmly stating that absolutely nothing had happened last night at her mother's raised eyebrows).

"I'll let you two be, then."

"Oh, Mum? Anthony and his friends are going skating later and he asked if I wanted to join them, so I was wondering if you guys would be alright with that?"

"Of course, darling. Just let us know the details at breakfast, yeah?"

"Yeah. Thank you!"

Her mother smiled, closing the door softly behind her, and Y/n turned her attention to Anthony. He looked peaceful, no nightmares or bad memories haunting him while he slept. Really he should have been the angel, he appeared so, well, angelic. They had slept in a lot when they were younger, Y/n waking up earlier than Anthony but opting to doze next to him instead of risking waking him up since he was always dead on his feet. The habit had picked up not long after the death of his parents, when Anthony couldn't sleep at night because he was dreaming of them. Y/n had offered up a spot in her bed, to see if it would help stop the nightmares, and then whenever Anthony wanted a proper night of sleep he'd climb up her wall and come in through the window, slipping under the covers and nestling up to her. Not much had changed, she supposed. He hadn't let go of her while they slept, and she remembered waking up at some point in the night for a wee and fighting to remove his grip from her waist. She had only been gone a few minutes, but when she dived back under the covers (it was cold outside of her bed) Anthony, somehow still asleep, made a grab for her again, pulling her back flat against his chest and sighing into her hair.

She was trying not to doze now, shuffling so that she was sat up with Anthony's head in her lap while she awkwardly held her mug of tea and hoped that none of it spilled over the sides. Once she was settled, she sighed contentedly, closing her eyes and basking in the familiarity of the situation. Y/n wished, not for the first time, that she had been born with some form of Talent, so that she could stay with Anthony forever and not have to leave London.

But life had chosen differently for her, and she had had to figure out what to do instead of being an agent. Acting had been a natural choice, since she was always fascinated by the movies from her childhood and had performed in every school play that was put on. Her parents supported her, of course, since anything was preferable to sending their child out into the night with only a sword and some training as protection from something that could bring back nothing but an apology and a funeral, but behind closed doors they worried that she wouldn't make it, that she needed a back up plan. So they had made sure that she continued her schooling, and took turns driving her to auditions. When Y/n had landed her first proper role in a theatre at the age of fourteen they had gone out to celebrate, having lunch in the restaurant of Y/n's choice, and the show had been a success. Scouts had been in the audience, and one had passed on her information to Y/n, telling her to call her.

Two years and three other successful plays later Y/n had an agent, and a job offer for a blockbuster film in the States, and when she'd heard how much the pay check was she'd accepted. Some people had called her shallow for it, but being an actor who wasn't entirely well-known was difficult, and her parents' house was expensive, she knew. Y/n told herself that she was doing it for them, and for Anthony (who she was determined would get some of the money, no matter how stubborn he was about it), and a few months later she was spending her first day on set.

She had another job lined up for the new year, but had managed to get the time off to come home for the holidays. There was nothing else she could do but carry on, no matter what her fantasies were. Reality was more important now, and reality was leaving him again for her work. He had his own life anyway; she would only be a distraction.

He stirred slightly in her lap, grunting softly and rubbing his eyes. She was glad for the movement, since her legs were starting to lose feeling, and her breath caught in her throat at his sleepy smile when he turned his head to look up at her.

"Morning," he whispered, voice croaky.

"Morning," she replied, matching his volume and smiling back. She put her tea down (which she'd finished at some point, although she wasn't sure when) and moved closer to the wall to allow Anthony some room to sit up next to her. He dropped his head onto her shoulder, sighing happily. "You sleep alright?" Y/n asked, her smile present in her voice.

"Yeah, brilliantly. Haven't slept that well in ages." He pulled back to look her in the eyes. "Thank you, Angel."

"Sure. Anytime, Ant." Y/n paused for a moment, thinking. "Anytime I'm here," she rectified, wincing at the flash of pain in Anthony's eyes.

"Do you have to go back?"

"Yes. I have a job, I can't just..." she waved her hands vaguely, trailing off.

"It's okay. I just wish things were different." He wasn't looking at her, instead picking at a loose thread on his pyjamas.

"Me too."

They were quiet after that, neither knowing where to take the conversation.

"Mum says I can go skating with you guys," Y/n piped up after a while, hope barely concealed in her voice that he would still want her to come with them.

"Oh, really? Perfect! Actually, what time is it?"

"There's a clock right behind you, I don't know why you're looking at me." Anthony blushed, twisting to face the clock that was sat in plain view on the bedside table. The numbers blared 7:43 in bright red, and Anthony sighed in relief.

"I thought it would be later. That's good. I should get back soon though, or the others will skin me alive."

"Well, go when you need to. Mum knows you're here, 'cause she brought me tea, so you could probably stay for breakfast if you wanted. She's been trying to figure out how to catch up with you anyway, and you're the only person that will willingly talk to Dad about sport, so I doubt that either of them will mind. There's no pressure either way."

"Are you sure? I really don't want to intrude-"

"You're using the front door anyway, it's just whether you're stopping for food on the way out." Her expression said that she wouldn't allow any arguments from him, and Anthony nodded, stretching out his long limbs.

"If you're sure it won't be a problem then I'll have something to eat with you lot, but I really don't want to-"

"Oh shut up, Anthony, we all love you here so stop fretting!" He did as she asked, his mouth snapping shut. She should have known what would happen next, since she knew him so well, but it still came as a surprise when he spoke.

"All?"

"Piss off."

"You said 'all', unless my hearing has gone."

"Your hearing has gone."

"Angel."

"Anthony." She frowned, but not in irritation. "Wait, why did I never have a nickname for you?" Anthony shrugged, flopping back against her headboard.

"You went through a number of them, I think. 'Love', 'darling', that sort of thing. You did call me a nuisance a lot though," he said, his eyes dancing with amusement.

"Probably because you were being a nuisance."

"How rude! I should tell somebody that I'm being bullied. This is bullying!"

"I'm not bullying you, Anthony. You are such a drama queen sometimes!"

"Ooo, drama queen, that's another one you called me!" Y/n laughed, chucking a pillow at his face and laughing harder when he failed to catch it.

~~~

Anthony did end up staying for breakfast, and he did catch up with Y/n's mother and spend at least half an hour talking to her father about sport, and he only escaped being stuck with her parents for another few days because Y/n had dragged him out, telling them that they would be late for skating. They weren't going to be late, because they still had a good hour or so before they needed to even leave for the rink, but Y/n had felt her heart break further at the sight of Anthony conversing easily with her family once more as though nothing had happened.

Her mother had laughed as Anthony and Y/n left, telling Anthony that he could just use the front door next time, and Y/n had waved goodbye, almost whacking the agent next to her in the face.

"Oh, shit, did I hit you?! Oh, you're fine, okay. No, stop it, you are fine, Anthony, so stop clutching your nose like I broke it."

~~~

Lucy and George could barely contain their shock and excitement at the additional member of their group, and while Holly was outwardly very calm, Anthony knew that she was just as excited by Y/n's appearance from the slight widening of her eyes.

"Oh. My. God. George, am I hallucinating right now?"

"If you are, then I am too."

"Hi," Y/n said, giving the trio of agents a small wave. "You must be Lucy and George? And Holly?"

"Yeah," Lucy replied, her voice more of a squeak than an actual word, and George simply nodded slowly. Holly stepped forward, offering out a gloved hand.

"Holly, yes. It's lovely to meet you," she said with a bright smile, and Y/n took her hand.

"Lovely to meet you too!"

"Shall we get our skates on then? Or are you two going to keep looking like idiots?" At Anthony's words, Lucy seemed to snap out of whatever daze she was in, and her stare turned deadly focused.

"The only one who's gonna look like an idiot is you, Lockwood. I'm actually amazing at ice skating, so good luck out there with your lanky limbs." She turned and marched off, finding a spot to sit down and tug her borrowed skates on.

"Lucy can skate?" George asked, clearly confused. "Lucy? Lucy, can... skate? But she's so clumsy!"

~~~

It turned out that Lucy could in fact skate, better than most of them, but she was disappointed to find out that Anthony could too, and therefore would not be looking like an idiot.

"I probably should have told you that I used to come here every Christmas as a kid. I got quite good in the end," he yelled across the rink. He'd been right about them being the only people there, and Y/n found that it was wonderful to pretend that her life was calm again.

While Y/n had gone with him pretty much every time, she had never truly mastered ice skating as Anthony had, and as such she looked a lot like a baby gazelle learning how to walk for the first time. Holly was similar, and the two of them were arm in arm as they went around the outside, holding on to each other and the barrier at the edge for stability. George was somewhat capable, surprisingly smooth on the ice but for the odd stumble here and there.

Anthony could have been mistaken for a professional skater, but everybody accepted that he was brilliant within the first thirty seconds.

They spent a good hour and a half on the ice, by the end of which Holly and Y/n had managed to stop wobbling enough to let go of the barrier and go carefully around. There was a cafe connected to the rink, and the five of them gathered inside to warm up with cups of tea and a slice of cake, and while Lucy, George, and Holly went to sit at a table (they had passed on their orders), Anthony and Y/n waited at the counter.

"That was really fun. Thank you, for inviting me," she said, turning to face him.

"Of course. I'm glad you enjoyed it, Angel." He was smiling at her, small and happy, and she couldn't help but return it, her cheeks protesting as they stretched against the numb feeling in her face from the cold.

"Christmas Eve tomorrow."

"Hmm," Anthony hummed, thanking the barista for the cakes she placed on their tray. "Are you going to do anything?"

"Probably not. I think we were going to watch a movie, but we might play board games instead. My Grandma's coming over, actually, so it'll be board games."

"How is she? I haven't seen her for a while," he asked, his face lighting up at the memories of her.

"She's alright, yeah. Moved house, made some new friends, that sort of thing. I think Christmas will be good for her; get her out the house and with family."

"Family is a good thing to be surrounded by," Anthony started, but he didn't sound sad. Instead he was looking over Y/n's shoulder at the three members of his agency, a fond smile on his face as he watched them, and she found herself choking up slightly at the knowledge that he'd found a new family for himself. "We're fully booked unfortunately, what with the sun setting at four in the afternoon, so I doubt that we'll have much time to play board games. We'll be sleeping to catch up on all the nights we're going to miss instead."

"Has George stopped striking?"

"Yeah," Anthony chuckled. "Turns out when anyone that isn't him tries to cook he has a borderline heart attack, so he gave up the strike for his own health and peace of mind. I think he's cooking lamb this year. It might not be on Christmas Day though, if we're busy. We'll have to find some other time."

"At least you have jobs though, that's good isn't it?"

"Yes, it is. And while our Christmas will be busy this year, hopefully we can generate enough business by next Christmas to turn down a couple and take the day off. Thank you!" He said the last part to the barista, pots of tea now sat on a second tray, and he and Y/n carefully picked up one tray each to carry over to their table. George snatched up his slice of cake right away, Lucy following right afterwards, and Y/n handed out the last plates to Holly and Anthony, taking her own and putting it in front of her. They quickly engaged in animated conversation again, pouring out tea when it had brewed for long enough and passing mugs around the table, and Y/n was content to sit back for a little while and let them discuss whatever was in their heads.

When the time came for them to leave, the light fading from the sky, the five of them thanked the cafe workers and stepped out into the cold again, pulling their coats tight around them and sticking their hands in their armpits to try and keep them warm. Y/n and Anthony trailed behind, walking close together and talking quietly.

"I'm assuming you'll be busy over the New Year period too?" she asked, hunching her shoulders against the wind that attempted to find a way through her thick scarf.

"Yeah. We already have bookings for the next couple of weeks. When do you go back again?"

"A few days after New Year's. I probably won't see you again properly."

"Oh." They didn't say anything for a moment or two, both thinking too much about the implications.

"You'll stay in touch though, yeah?"

"Of course I will, Angel. If you're not too busy making friends with people that will write books about you or something," he joked, but she could hear the question in his voice, and snorted.

"They aren't friends. Not really. They care more about the fame that being seen with me will bring them. They don't care about me." It was true, and even the people that she would consider friends didn't know her the way that Anthony did. He was the only one who knew exactly how she was feeling at any given time, the only one who could tell which smiles were faked, which laughs were real, what she really meant when she said one thing but secretly wanted to say another.

"Well that sucks."

"Yep." She kicked at a pile of leaves on the pavement, the action throwing her balance off slightly and making her lean closer to Anthony. He moved a hand out slightly, ready to steady her if she needed it.

"I'll call you, I promise."

Although she couldn't tell when, Y/n knew that they had made a silent agreement at some point since that morning. She wouldn't ask him to wait for her to come back, and give him false hope that they could ever be together again, if he didn't ask her to stay with him and give up her life.

While he had asked if she had to leave when they woke up, Anthony had known the answer the whole time. It hurt, of course it hurt, and he hadn't felt quite so empty at her leaving since his childhood, but she was living her dream and he couldn't take that from her. It wasn't right of him to do that when he'd spent their entire lives telling her that she could do anything if she wanted to. It didn't matter that he would have given up everything to be with her, or even just to have her back with him for a few months of the year. None of that mattered, because they were both the sort of person that needed closeness, and they lived on opposite sides of the earth. What he really needed to do was move on, to find someone new, but it still ached to think about doing so.

Before either of them knew it, they were back on Portland Row, parting ways at Y/n's gate (since it was her end of the street they had walked on to) with long hugs and promises of calls, and waves of 'see you later' not 'goodbye', because goodbye was too final.

Anthony was last to hug her, telling the others to carry on without him. He held on tight for much longer than the other three had, and Y/n didn't mind one bit, grasping the back of his coat just as tightly, her nails digging in to the fabric. Her eyes were squeezed shut as she tried to fight off the tears, and she could feel Anthony tensing to stop his own sobs. She tried to commit him to memory, since she only had photos to remember him by (including some new ones from the last few hours), and with every second that ticked past she could feel him slipping further away despite the fact they were closer than they ever had been for the last two years.

Eventually they pulled away from each other, still not quite letting go, and she studied his face. Unlike the last time they had parted at Christmas, he was an open book in large print, every emotion he was experiencing written clearly across his face, and Y/n smiled up at him with watery eyes as she brushed away the stray tear that had slipped down his cheek.

"Thank you, Angel." She didn't ask him what he was thanking her for; she knew that he was thinking the same thing that she was. It had been lovely, being his for again for the last few days, but they needed to end, and she needed to leave.

She didn't really know what to say in response, so instead she pushed up on her toes and pressed her lips to his cheek, lingering longer than she should have done but enjoying the feel of him this close again too much. When she pulled back his eyes fluttered open, and she heard a soft sigh escape him, the sound filled with longing.

"I'll let you know when I land and get settled back in, okay?" She fully removed herself from his arms now, moving backwards through her gate.

"Okay. We might be out."

"I'll leave a message for you." Anthony nodded, hunched over slightly as though he were still holding her. He stood up properly all of a sudden, shoving his hands into his coat pockets and smiling sadly at her, starting to move down the street.

"Merry Christmas, Angel," he called out.

"Merry Christmas, Ant."

~~~

A few days after New Year's, the members of Lockwood and Co were piling in to 35 Portland Row at one in the morning, another job completed.

All three were exhausted (Holly was most likely snug in bed in her flat), and Anthony nearly missed the voicemail on the phone. George had been leaning on the table that the phone sat on, however, attempting to pull his boots off, and had seen the light flashing to let them know they had a message.

Anthony forgot all about his weariness, shaking it off as though it were a coat, and pressed play on the voicemail.

"Uh- hi! Sorry, let me just- okay, hi! Sorry, I got caught in the telephone wire. Um, I'm not really sure what to say really. Happy New Year, I guess? I landed about an hour ago, and getting back home was an absolute nightmare. Anyway, you have my number and everything if you want to call. Hope you guys are okay, and I'll call you again soon. Oh, and Anthony? Will you tell the others that they can call me too? Just in case- I don't know. I miss you already, you nuisance." He smiled at the nickname, then her voice came again but more distant, answering somebody else in the room. "Hmm? Oh, okay." She spoke louder again, putting the phone back to her ear. "I need to go now, bye!"

The three of them stood silent in the hallway, all staring at the phone as it went through the usual spiel of which buttons to press.

Neither George nor Lucy said anything when Anthony pressed the number to keep the voicemail.

They also didn't say anything a month later when he came down for breakfast, his face filled with a smile that they could all tell was faked as he told them he was going out. When asked where he was going, he simply replied "On a date" and left, leaving his three coworkers in the kitchen to wonder what the hell had happened to their friend.

Then, a month after that when the headlines were filled with the news that the actress Y/n L/n was reportedly in a relationship with her costar, nobody said anything when Anthony shrugged the news off, instead heading to the phone to congratulate her. He had a partner of his own now, so it made sense that she had somebody too, no matter how much it ached to read about them in the papers.

He had been hers again for one glorious week, and she had been his Angel, but she had needed to leave, and he had needed to stay. That didn't stop either of them from thinking about the other, or noticing small things every day that served as a reminder of them, but that was in the past, and they couldn't stay stuck in it forever.

[wisteria-lodge]

Since you're writing Night at the Museum fanfiction, I gotta ask how you would sort the characters in those movies? (I remember like two years ago I semi-started my own sorting of the characters and then just never finished it)

So the thing about the way the museum exhibits are characterized is that they know they are exhibits. They *like* being exhibits. Their purpose in life is to teach/help the humans who come into contact with them (because that is the purpose they have been created for.)

Teddy is *very* aware he's not the Real Theodore Roosevelt, and kind of struggles with Theodore Roosevelt's ongoing legacy. He, Amelia Earhart, they're the cultural idea of the person they represent, not time travellers. It's pretty meta. Jedidiah and Octavius are not written as a literal historical cowboy and a literal historical roman, they are a reflection of how a 21st century American *thinks* about Cowboys (TM) and Romans (TM.) So a lot of what you're doing when you're writing about Jed and Octavius is unpacking cultural ideas of ideal masculinity, which was really fun to do.

That's my long-winded way of saying that all the museum exhibits are Badger primaries, full stop. Even Amelia Earhart doesn't *really* want "a great adventure" (which would be more Lion primary.) She wants to teach other people about the importance of having a great adventure. Jed actually talks about this a lot: "I called you 'cause you needed us. [You're] all gussied up, but dead inside. That ain't you." and "the least we can do is give [Larry] some help."

Larry Daley however, is not a Badger. He's a Snake. His entire motivation in the first film is his son - and the second one starts with a Larry who's a little Burned. He's got that Burnt Snake hedonism, leaning towards money and stuff and away from his personal connections, and regaining that connection is the plot of the movie.

In terms of secondary - Jed's a Lion. I don't think he's ever planned anything, ever. He talks a lot about his desire to "roam free" and asks Octavius to "remember me as I was, wild and free." He dislikes being constrained (manhandled.) He's kind of unofficially been made/made himself the leader of his diorama, which is very Lion secondary. And the fact that he's got guns that don't work (but he shoots them anyway) is... a little bit of a joke at the expense of Lion secondaries. This is a movie that *likes* prep-work secondaries, and it especially loves Bird secondaries. Larry is a *loud* Bird. When we met him he's an inventor (very Bird coded.) Then he gets the job at the museum, finds it overwhelming... and immediately does a TON of research, and starts making lists to organize and orientate himself.

Octavius is a Badger secondary. He has an official position of leadership, and is much, much more defined by his groups (his legion, "the glory of Rome") than Jed is. He immediately slots Larry into his personal hierarchy, even giving him a title - "My Liege" (Badgers love titles.) Also, not going to lie, he is kind of a kiss-ass. That, plus sweet-talking the Abraham Lincoln statue into coming to help... means we've got a Courtier Badger Secondary.

tl;dr

Larry Daley ~ Snake Bird

Jedidiah ~ Badger Lion

Octavius ~ Double Badger

[rozamasu]

Dragon Ball Z/Super: Comparing and contrasting Goku and Zamasu— two sides of the same coin? (Long post full of yapping!)

The Goku Black arc consistently portrays Black/Zamasu to be ideological parallels to Trunks for obvious reasons (Hope vs Despair, Selfishness vs Selflessness, he's the protagonist of this arc, etc.), but I think it's an interesting exercise to compare Zamasu's journey to Goku's. In my opinion, it really hammers in why Zamasu failed to reach enlightenment and fell from grace besides "mortals = stupid and barbaric" and plain old narcissism.

Everyone knows Goku's story by now, but I want to hone in on the part that I believe Zamasu's own parallels.

The beginning of Z features Goku gradually being introduced to entirely new realms of power and scale. He has to team up with the guy he worked his ass off to defeat 5 years ago just to barely defeat Raditz, a mid class Saiyan, sacrificing his own life in the process.

He is informed constantly by Vegeta that he is nothing but low-class scum, born at the bottom of the interplanetary Saiyan "totem pole", compared to Vegeta's own super-elite-royalty-goodness.

Then, by Namek, he manages to surpass Vegeta, and even trounces the emperor of the universe who subjugated the entire Saiyan race. After Namek, Goku grows so much that the conceptions of "class" that he was blindsided by quickly become faint memories, only brief blips in his life's work to always get stronger.

Not to be the strongest, or even to become "the strongest Saiyan who ever lived", simply to get stronger. Goku's goal is forever ongoing; he will never feel as if his duty is complete. If it ever was, he'd be restless and unsatisfied.

The key thread throughout the Saiyan and Frieza Sagas is that Goku never uses the labels ascribed to him or his opponents as anything more than momentary benchmarks in service of his overarching, everlasting goal to achieve more and more strength. He does not hear Vegeta's boasts about his status and go "okay, guess I'll be good enough once I can beat Vegeta in a 1 on 1, since I'll basically be a super elite!". He hears King Kai's fervent warnings about Frieza's terrible strength and gets curious rather than demotivated.

He doesn't use either of these as an excuse to run away or quit training.

In fact, Goku never uses anything as an excuse. He is not married to any sort of arbitrary benchmark of strength (that honor goes to Chi Chi), even in Super as he gains power that rivals Gods of Destruction.

To treat a level of strength, or a class (God of Destruction, Angel, Super Elite, Emperor of the Universe) as a stopping point for Goku or some sort of ultimate goal would imply that Goku's desire for strength has a defined end. But it doesn't, and so Goku doesn't put much stock into those things. He never loses sight of his goal, and he literally doesn't even stop training when he's dead.

As for Zamasu, the beginning of his journey is why I thought to juxtapose him with Goku in the first place. He shares a surprising similarity with early Z Goku, in that both were able to achieve greater statuses than their birth would afford them.

Zamasu started off as a normal Kai, the guardian of a universal quadrant (the North, same as King Kai). In terms of Dragon Ball's divine hierarchy, this is actually quite the low standing. It is the second lowest known class of Gods, only ranking above planetary deities like Kami and Dende. If a Core Person (Kai race) is born from a rare, special golden fruit, only then will they be qualified enough to train to be a Supreme Kai.

Zamasu is the only known canon example of a normal Kai being selected to become a Supreme Kai, and so his exceptional ascension up the divine hierarchy is a natural parallel to Goku's own defiance of his low-class nature and his comparatively low power level at birth.

Unlike Goku, however, Zamasu is absolutely obsessed with and bound by certain labels, which ultimately leads to his ideological downfall.

Firstly, we can see his fixation on the idea of godhood when he speaks to Gowasu.

When Gowasu simply tells him to temper himself and observe mortals, he immediately begins focusing on and belittling the gods' philosophy, almost outright saying "what the gods think does NOT align with justice". The way he phrases these sentences in both the dub and sub is key: he says "I thought you'd teach me justice, but...", which creates a juxtaposition between "divinity" and "REAL justice".

He even begins to doubt that a god could be considered a god if they did not align with his definition of justice.

Zamasu is young and inexperienced for a Kai (especially considering regular Kais have far shorter biological lifespans than Supreme Kais), so the reactions he displays in this scene suggest that he had a very romanticized, linear view of both godhood and justice. When Gowasu's statement suggests to Zamasu that he can't reconcile the two, it basically calls out all that Zamasu currently stands for, and he doesn't take it well.

Gowasu ends the discussion by challenging Zamasu's narrowminded belief that gods are "absolute" and perfect, but by then the two are already unable to get through to one another.

If you look at the other gods in Dragon Ball, you'll see what Gowasu means here. For example, Beerus is lazy, temperamental, and childish; none of the other gods really like him. Elder Kai is a lecher. Champa is rather undignified and just as temperamental as Beerus.

Where Goku seeks strength, Zamasu seeks virtue. Yet, unlike Goku, Zamasu has an arbitrary benchmark at where his objective stops: the abstract concept of "godhood".

When Zamasu reaches that endpoint and finds that it's not all it's cracked up to be, he constantly contorts his definition of divinity to match it— or rather, to match himself— rather than accepting that being a god is not equivalent to having a "perfect" sense of justice, or being "perfect" in general. He commits barbaric, brutal, bloodthirsty, and wanton acts, all in the name of "divine justice", despite those things being less becoming of gods and more becoming of mortals.

The dilemma extends to the very end of the arc, where in the dub Corrupted Merged Zamasu says to Vegetto: "If one can't control a world, one can't be called a god of it", instantly justifying his hypocrisy, his sadism, his violence, and his arrogance instead of looking inward and asking himself what it meant to be a god.

Like Gowasu said, Zamasu was "obsessed with the contradictions of gods and mortals", and as Trunks said, "it isn't about gods or mortals". Zamasu was so enamored with the idea and label of godhood, yet did not question whether or not his values, the values of his future counterpart, or the values of the other gods aligned with it. And how could he have questioned it if he didn't truly know what godhood meant himself— if he just used the idea as a synonym for what he believed?

Where Goku saw arbitrary labels as inconsequential to his overarching quest, Zamasu saw his life be entirely dictated by them. Zamasu allowed himself to be entrenched in the god-mortal dichotomy, whereas Goku's nature would never allow him to lose his big-picture goal like that.

When Goku's reality is challenged, whether by the introduction of some groundless measure of value (power level, Saiyan class) or by a vastly stronger opponent, he doesn't flinch. He doesn't stop. He doesn't make excuses. His overall goal doesn't change.

When Zamasu's reality was challenged, he broke and became everything he hated. He bent and twisted the rules of what he considered "just", and shattered the natural divine order by doing away with all Gods of Destruction. His goal, by then, was unrecognizable compared to his previous goal to be a benevolent Supreme Kai.

Where Goku's triumphs led him to continue being diligent and humble, Zamasu's own led him to be stagnant and arrogant. Even though Zamasu was proactive and cunning, he was stagnant in the sense that none of what he did made him more moral or virtuous, or gave him a greater understanding of the universe, even though those were the things he originally sought when studying under Gowasu.

All he did was further embed himself (literally, with Future Zamasu) within his own radical beliefs; he never progressed towards his original goal because he replaced it with "I am THE God, no more gods are needed, I will exterminate all mortals personally". His arrogance and inability to see gods as flawed beings made him lose the plot.

Goku continued working hard and getting stronger after vanquishing Frieza, whereas Zamasu's entitlement made him become a complete shell of himself.

Goku saw his growth from low-class warrior to Legendary Super Saiyan to be a testament to everything he stood for; the desire to protect and avenge his friends, his inherited Saiyan pride from Vegeta, and most importantly, his neverending journey to get stronger. Zamasu saw his ascension from North Kai to Supreme Kai as an excuse. A stopping point. An "okay, I've reached the pinnacle of the virtue I seek", refusing to accept that there was more beyond the arbitrary value and moral standing he placed on the role of a god, refusing to think mortals could ever possibly learn, and refusing to think gods could ever need to learn.

Zamasu is a dark reflection of Goku— Son Goku is everything that Zamasu is not. Zamasu is the opposite of many reasons that Goku is such a distinct and unique character, and that makes both of them all the more compelling.

[octuscle]

CHAVTF - Dan and Dick

Richard was excited to see his son Daniel's new apartment. Daniel had moved out of his home in Mayfair a few weeks ago. For his work, the Eastend was better located. And Mayfair was indeed nothing for young people by now. Richard himself was considering moving away. He was now retired, and his wife had been dead for over a year. Perhaps a change of scenery would not be wrong.

The inspection of the new apartment did not take long. Small, functional. And still full of moving boxes. So Daniel suggested going to dinner at one of the nearby restaurants. Richard agreed. He was starting to get hungry. They had been walking for a few minutes when, completely unexpectedly, a heavy downpour came down. Although they quickly took cover under a tree, they were soaked to the bone. And then a huge amount of bird droppings slapped down on them. Their clothes were ruined.

Richard laughed. "It's all no drama. There's another store up ahead, we can get a dry and clean jacket there." Daniel hesitantly countered that this wasn't Savile Row, but Richard said they'd find something appropriate for dinner in the East End. They entered CHAVTF. A small store, crowded and not very clear. At the cash register at the entrance sat a young man with a shaved head, playing with his cell phone. When he saw Richard and Daniel, he began to grin. And a large wet spot formed in his crotch from the precum. "Oi mates, you looking for something dry? There are two changing rooms up ahead, strip down and I'll bring you something." Richard and Daniel found the approach a bit odd, but followed the request. The locker rooms smelled musty, the floor wasn't particularly clean, and strangest of all was the large hole in the partitions at belt height.

"You lads prefer boxers with those big dicks of yours, don't you?" " You bet your ass I do," Daniel replied. "Here you go. Aren't really Calvin Klein, but good quality." Richard pulled on the shorts. He massaged his cock. Felt really massive. "And here are socks. Size 12 should fit." The two put on the white athletic socks. They immediately got dirty on the greasy floor. "Tell me mates! Are you guys brothers? You look a bit alike." "Fuck, yeah," Daniel replied. "Here are some jeans. See if you like them. And who's the older of you?" Richard pulled up his pants. He'd never worn ripped jeans before. But they felt great. And they sat so low on his hips that you could still read the Calvin Klein lettering super. That's how he'd imagined it. "The older one is me, mate," Richard said. "But only three months. We're half-brothers. Dad screwed anything that couldn't run away fast enough." Dan replied that Richard's mother, however, had also been a whore who had let everyone have it. "You got it, bro! Your mom's not a whore, of course. And where did all your brothers and sisters come from?" replied Dick.

"Here's two cool pairs of shoes. Let's take a look, mates," the store attendant said, pulling the curtains aside. Dan and Dick grinned and posted for fun. "Wow, your training is paying off, Mates! You both box welterweight?" "Nah," Dick said. "I'm a lightweight. But I'm working on it. The goal is middleweight already." "You guys are probably going out clubbing today. T-shirts for clubbing?" Dan said they were going to get drinks at the gas station first. And then maybe to the pub. But T-shirt is fine." The store attendant tossed them two black T-shirts. Dan and Dick put them on and took out their chains. They were quiet for everyone to see. "Why aren't you both inked, anyway? Your tattoos are really coming along!" Dick stroked his neck and arm. Yes, he was really proud of them, but they had cost a lot of money. And Dan just had to save up a little bit of money, then he would surely get a tattoo.

Fortunately, they had collected a lot of money today. The two fine toffs Dan and Dick had stolen the coats from had been carrying a lot of cash. "Mates, the jackets really go with your outfit. Can't nobody tell they're not Moncler." The two put the jackets on. The pal was right. They looked awesome! "Mates, did you want to earn a £100 discount on the clothes. If one of you blows the other in the booth through the glory hole and I can use the video on Tiktok, everything together will only cost 50 pounds. Dick tossed a swiped credit card to the store attendant. "We'll pay by card, but we'll do it for 100 pounds cash."

Once the two were back outside, Dick had to light a fag. Dan still had the taste of Dick's cum in his mouth and declined, grinning. "Not until after the next beer. Your spunk tastes like shit." "And yours tastes like piss!"

[absurdthirst]

Kinktober 2023: October 16th

Day 16: Speech/Movement Restriction, Body Worship (Genitals), Vampires/Werewolves

Max Phillips x F!Reader

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 1.2k

Warnings: Vampirism, Lycanthropy, insults, changing, mentions of bestiality,

|| Kinktober List || MasterList ||

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

Fucking werewolves. Of all the fucking supernatural things he could fall for, he has to fall for a fucking dog.

Max wrinkles his nose, the smell of wet dog never a particularly pleasant one, and with his enhanced sense of smell, it’s magnified. 

Max Phillips isn’t human, no, his humanity was taken away years ago. He’s a vampire. A natural enemy of werewolves, which really confuses him when his cock gets hard at the furry form of his girl. 

“Fuck, do I need to dip you for fleas?” He grumbles, rolling his eyes and spraying some of the air freshener around the room. “Or did you roll around in something dead?”

“Fuck off, Max.” Your voice is decidedly human and he grins when he hears the annoyance in your tone. Obviously just changed back and probably pretty tired from running around all night, howling at the moon. 

“What’s the matter, puppy?” He teases, walking into the bathroom to find you standing in front of the full length mirror, naked and examining your body for any marks that will heal absurdly fast anyway. Leaning against the door, he snaps his fingers. “Shit, I forgot your dog treat.”

“Shut up, or I will eat a plate full of garlic, you vitamin D deficient blood bag.” You throw him a scowl, but that just makes his grin grow even wider.

“Technically, you’re the blood bag, furry.” He teases, ducking when you throw your towel at him. “Awwww did your tail get knotted up, baby?”

You roll your eyes, wondering why the fuck you put up with the heartless wonder. Reminding yourself that the sex is pretty good, but you still smirk as you open the medicine cabinet. “Fuck with me and I’ll replace your sunscreen.” You threaten, enjoying the way his grin slides off his face and the wounded expression replaces it. 

“Hey..that’s not cool.” He grumbles. “You know I’m sensitive to the fucking fireball in the sky.” 

You make a sizzling noise, laughing when he flashes his fangs at you. “Okay, go make me some food.” You wave him away. “I need to shower and then sleep for a million minutes.”

“Awww babe.” He pouts and pokes out his lower lip at you. “I was gonna get in the shower with you.” “No you weren’t.” You open the glass door and smirk over your shoulder. “Because you called me a furry.” 

“Babe, I like your fur.” He whines, looking offended that you are denying him a shower with you. “I was teasing you.” 

“Go floss your fang, Max.” You huff, stepping into the shower. 

“Fluffy…..” He groans. “I’ll scratch under your chin…” 

“Fuck off, Max!” 

“You’re so touchy after you regrow your skin.”

****

Your relationship with Max is one that despite your teasing, is actually pretty amazing. He understands that you have things that you can’t control. Like his bloodlust, you can’t help that your human form falls away every full moon. Turning into a monster with razor sharp claws and teeth that are perhaps even sharper than Max’s. 

Now the next month has rolled around, the moon looming over your schedule. It’s always a pain in the ass, but you also love the freeing sense of being the biggest and baddest out in the forest at night. 

You’re aware of yourself while you are in that state, it’s just that your more animalistic instincts take over. You want to hunt, eat. Fuck. 

The small cabin in the woods was a place where you could be safe. Or, others could be safe from you. Nothing was around for miles. You start to slip out of your clothes, knowing that when the moon appears, you would shred anything you were wearing. It was better to just start the process naked. 

“Fuck baby.” He smirks as he watches you undress, eyes dark and eyebrows waggling. “I wonder if I’m going to get the horny or hungry little puppy tonight.” 

You roll your eyes and huff, smirking slightly. “One of these days I’m going to bite you.” 

“Oh, promises, promises.” He waggles eyebrows again and flashes his teeth at you playfully. “I want you to bite me. Make getting that pussy a challenge.” 

You snort and walk over to Max, sliding your arms around his neck. “Keep me on the mountain.” You tell him seriously, not wanting to hurt anyone and his vampiric strength can keep you here. 

“You stink.” Max’s nose wrinkles, leaning back slightly and smirking at you when you roll his eyes. “Did you shower?” 

“Fuck you, Max.” You huff, shoving at him, but he holds you close. 

“I’ll keep you here, babe.” He promises, leaning in and pressing his lips to yours. “Gotta keep my little fur ball happy.” 

****

Max always watches as you transform. Finding it fascinating that his very human girlfriend grows to over seven feet tall and is built like a brick shithouse covered in dark, surprisingly soft, fur. The loss of boobs was something that he was sad about when you are in your furry form but for some reason, the pussy was fucking amazing when he had to lift that tail to hit it from behind.

He stands in the trees, giving you the room you need to thrash about. It was good that he was supernatural as well, because the first time you changed, you had clawed the shit out of him. If he wasn’t undead, it would have left a hell of a nasty scar.  

“Awooooooooooooh!” Max winches, finding you really loud when you are baying at the moon, but he doesn’t grumble about it too much. 

There’s something about the way that you look as a creature of the night. Something that appeals to him sexually. He had never thought about fucking a werewolf until you. Until he saw you as a werewolf. Until he fucked you as one. Or rather, you fucked him. 

The sniffing of the air brings him back to the moment. Watching as you turn yellow eyes on him. Your smart, sassy little mouth elongated into a powerful snout and a set of jaws that could crush bone. 

His nude body is pale in the large moon, figuring he didn’t want those claws going through another Hermēs tie. Plus there was something rather exhilarating about chasing after a wolf with not a fucking stitch of clothing on. Getting back to his roots in his mind. 

“Here Fido.” He snickers, waving you over and chuckling when he hears you growl. “Down girl.” He teases, knowing that you can’t hit him with those snappy comebacks right now. “You know that you have to be a good girl.” 

That’s not apparently the mood you were in. One arm swiping out and knocking him onto his back, snapping your jaws inches from his pretty face as you loom over him. 

“You wanna ride?” Max asks, immediately reaching for your fur covered hips to move you into place since he’s already hard. He gets hard watching you change. Turning on by the mere fact that he fucks a werewolf. It was quite the brag amongst other vampires. 

Your snout comes down and you nuzzle his hard cock, making him moan when your long, wolfish tongue comes out to run along the length. “That’s it, Fluffy.” He groans. “Get it nice and wet for your canine cunt.” He chuckles. “You’re gonna wag your tail while you bounce on my cock and bay at the moon tonight.”