#somehow still insurances agents?

[dozenssporks]

wolfwood, on the phone: you found broom-head where?!

meryl: Like I said, the luggage compartment of a bus heading to North Dakota

vash, shoving his face next to meryl’s so he can shout into the phone: I was gonna see the world’s largest buffalo!

meryl: get off me, dimwit!

*meryl pushes vash away he trips backwards and hits a shelf, several books falling and hitting his head as he slides to the floor*

vash: am I hitting the books or are the books hitting me??

meryl, turning around and ignoring him: he’s jet-lagged out of his mind but he’s hopped up on caffeine or something and won’t take a nap

wolfwood: well, if you’re making him sleep in the motel tub again . . .

millie, who had been passing by with a cup of tea and paused to listen: oh no! we don’t do that anymore, his snores echo in there! Hi, mr. priest!

wolfwood: hey, big girl. What’s he been drinking to get himself so hyper? You know his weird system only gets sleepy when you give him coffee

meryl: there were a lot of cans in that luggage compartment and I did not and do not want to know what they were. Do you have any idea how to get him to sleep that isn’t hitting him on the back of the head with a laptop?

wolfwood: y’see spiky doesn’t like to nap when he’s jet lagged, it--

vash: IT GIVES ME THE HEEBIE-JEEBIES

meryl: stop using your freakishly sharp hearing to listen to our conversation!

millie: mr. vash, be careful! if you jump around like that you’ll spill your tea!

wolfwood: yeah like he said, gives him the heebie-jeebies.

meryl, pinching the bridge of her nose and letting out a long frustrated sigh: what, pray tell, are the ‘heebie-jeebies’?

wolfwood: he has like these weird dreams about spiders an’ stuff crawling on ‘im and he can’t move. Or lizards. I can’t remember.

vash: they take turns! sometimes it’s rats! once it was butterflies drinking my blood!

millie: aw, no wonder you don’t wanna sleep

vash: thank you millie you are the only valid person

meryl: i have very kindly been restraining myself from wringing your neck so shut up!

wolfwood: er. there is a thing that might work.

meryl: please tell me. I’m beginning to remember you get the reward money even if you bring him in dead.

wolfwood: okay, but if you laugh at what I’m about to say you’re a bad person

meryl: I will take that risk. hit me.

wolfwood, sighing: hold his hand while he falls asleep

meryl:

wolfwood: you’re a bad person.

meryl: I didn’t say anything!

wolfwood: I can hear you thinking! Look, hold his hand and after he’s asleep stay in the room. if he starts making noises in his sleep just kinda quietly say his name until he stops.

vash: I refuse to hold hands! I’m saving myself for marriage! that was non-consensual hand-holding!

meryl: okay, two questions. One, how do you know this? Two, does it really work?

wolfwood: it works on the kids back home, I was on the verge of beating his spiky head in, I gave it a shot. Not a hundred percent success rate but fairly high.

meryl: Urgh. I guess it’s easier than getting rid of a body.

wolfwood: that’s the spirit. welp, since this isn’t my problem I’ll sign off. have fun and God bless!

meryl: drop dead!

*meryl hangs up and whips around. vash in the act of trying to climb a shelf freezes in place*

meryl: millie

vash: no. don’t.

meryl: grab him

millie: yes, ma’am!

vash, kicking and flailing in millie’s grip: noooo! you’re so mean! you’re still the only valid person but you’re so mean!

[zattis]

Sizable Security, Inc. (dp x dc thought)

With the ghost attacks at an all time low and the Infinite Realms blessedly calm, a twenty-something Danny Fenton decides to take care of his protection Obsession in a more mundane way: by becoming a bodyguard. A blessed late growth spurt meant that he inherited his father's height, though not his sheer bulk. Still, with an intimidating figure and his fighting knowledge, he figured that it wouldn't be an issue picking up a career as a "protection agent".

He hadn't expected all three (???) of his siblings to join him, starting a family business instead of joining a company that already existed.

Ellie had spent years on the road, traveling across the globe. It had fascinated her, of course, but she found herself missing her family. Going into security with him gave her the chance to go from place to place while being around someone she truly cared about.

Jazz ended up going along with it, rationalizing that keeping making clients feel secure was just as important as actually protecting them, and that she could still put her mind to good use. Not to mention her less chaotic demeanor meant she would usually be seen as the de facto leader of the group.

Then, somehow, Dan ended up joining them, turning their trio into a quartet. He said it was his parole opportunity to go along with them, and while he may relish in the chance to be aggressive, being around Jazz, Danny and Ellie kept him sane and opened him up to show genuine love, in his own way.

As it turns out, having four talented individuals on your payroll, all of whom have some degree of enhanced strength and senses, makes for an extremely valuable service. It also helps when no one in said group is shorter than six and a half feet tall.

Proud & Powerful Protection (the name was Ellie's idea) becomes an overnight sensation, developing a reputation for a 100% success rate and quickly getting booked by just about anyone who can afford them. As a matter of fact, two very wealthy, very public figures employ their services often, with both hoping to hire them full-time.

Lex Luthor sees the quartet as insurance for some of his most valuable employees and yet another one of his secret projects.

Bruce Wayne would rather they take care of his wards, since he's very tired of having to deal with kidnapping and extortion attempts.

Regardless, Jazz, Danny, Ellie and Dan look out for each other, and can pretty easily figure out when their employers aren't telling them everything.

[bella-rose29]

paper rings

Anthony Lockwood x fem!reader

Word count: 10.2k words

Warnings: mild spoilers for the later books (this is set after TEG and they're all 18+), a LOT of mildly explicit innuendoes and sexual references, swearing

this is my Valentine's Day surprise that I've been talking about, so happy Valentine's Day to you all! <3

based on the Taylor Swift song of the same name

Anthony Lockwood masterlist

It was nearly 2 in the morning, and Y/n L/n was exhausted. 

She had been on a case for the last seven hours and everything hurt and ached - including places in her body she didn't even know she had - and she just wanted her bed and an incredibly large cup of tea. 

So why was she having to babysit three other agents who really should have been old enough to look after themselves?

Two of them seemed to be high on flare fumes, giggling about absolutely nothing and making weird sounds every few seconds. The third was smiling fondly at his friends and coworkers, but wasn't doing anything to stop them from getting closer and closer to the edge of their sanity. 

Y/n sighed for the millionth time in the last ten minutes, and the third agent (the one who wasn't as insane as the other two - she'd nicknamed him Beanpole) looked over from where he was leaning back against the DEPRAC van with his arms crossed. Somehow he looked effortlessly cool and relaxed, despite the plasma stains and dirt covering his entire body. 

“Are you alright?” he asked. 

“I'm fine, just want to go home and stop looking after three other agents.” 

“Ah, that’s fair. Wait, 'looking after’?”

“Yeah, Barnes told me to keep an eye on you three 'cause you were in trouble or something.” 

“Oh, we're not in trouble,” he grinned, and although she rolled her eyes she couldn't deny the way her heart skipped a beat at his smile. “Barnes just likes being dramatic. We didn't do anything.” Somehow she didn't believe him, but the sheer amount of charm that was pouring out of him was making her disregard any concerns she had about how truthful he was being. 

“So what is it that you aren't in trouble for then?” His grin only grew wider, and Y/n found herself smiling back. 

“Minor property damage. But in our defence our client didn't warn us about the malignant smoke that she'd seen creeping out of the basement or even the intense waves of nausea she felt when walking past her under stairs cupboard. So we really can't take any of the blame for completely decimating her bannisters and front hall. Plus, we're insured.”

“No you're not,” Barnes interrupted, joining the conversation and holding a manilla folder. “You didn't have your DEPRAC standardised iron chains, Lockwood. Not according to this report.” That made Beanpole (Lockwood? Although that didn't sound much like a name) stand up, uncrossing his arms as a frown decorated his pretty face. 

“What? But we did, I made sure after Mrs Hope's house.” Y/n didn't know what had happened at Mrs Hope's house, but from the way Barnes was frowning even more than usual and somehow looking even more unimpressed with Beanpole she figured she didn't want to know. “You can go in and check if you like, they're still in the hall.”

“Fine. L/n, you go in and check.” 

“What?” 

“Just check the chains are there, then come back. They managed to at least get rid of the ghosts.”

“Alright,” she grumbled, hoisting her belt up a little and trudging off in the direction of the building Barnes had pointed her to. She shouldn't even be here, since she was meant to have been at home around half an hour ago, but now she was making her way into some random woman's house to carry out a job that any random DEPRAC officer could have done (if what Barnes had said about the other agents removing the Visitors was true). She pushed open the door, glad for her gloves at the chill in the air, and scoffed when she immediately laid eyes on the thick iron chains that had been kicked to the side in the fight. Y/n picked them up, huffing under the added weight, and was about to turn and leave when her eyes caught on the state of the front hall. “What the actual fuck…” she whispered, then shook her head and closed the door behind her, choosing to ignore the mess inside. 

“Well?” Barnes demanded when she'd made her way back. She dropped the chains at his feet. 

“Yep. I don't know why I had to do that though, anyone could have looked.” She was being irritable, she knew, but she thought she was perfectly justified in feeling that way.

“Alright.” Barnes looked unhappy about the whole situation too, but that wasn't Y/n's fault. “Then just sign these papers and you three can go.” Beanpole was smiling smugly, and he nodded and took the papers that Barnes handed him. 

“Thank you, Inspector. Luce, George, here.” They were both still laughing at something only they knew about, clutching their sides as they took the sheets of paper that Beanpole handed them. 

“Can I go home too?” Y/n asked Barnes while the others signed the forms. 

“Yeah. Maybe catch a ride with these three, they're your way.”

“Fine.”

A few minutes later the four of them were piled into a taxi and heading off down the road in the direction of Marylebone. 

“So,” Beanpole started. The moon was shining bright on his face through the taxi window, making him look like a Visitor himself when combined with his already pale skin and the dark shadows under his eyes. He still looked effortlessly gorgeous though, and Y/n found herself wondering if he was single. “You're an agent then. Solo?”

“Oh, yeah. Never liked working for the big companies. They never really cared about the people, you know? Shit,” her eyes widened as she realised what she'd said. “Are you a company?”

“Yes, but don't worry. We have a grand total of four people at our agency. Sometimes five or six if we get extra help from others.”

“That's... very small. Is the fourth your supervisor?”

“No, our secretary actually. Holly doesn't much like being in the field anymore though, but that works out alright for us. She still gets paid a good amount.”

“So if you don't have a supervisor…”

“I'm the agency head,” he smiled, but now instead of appearing chipper and light, he looked tired and weighed down by the responsibility of running a company and looking after his coworkers. “Anthony Lockwood, Lockwood and Co.” 

“Y/n L/n, formerly of Fittes.” They shook hands awkwardly in the limited space they had in the back of the taxi. 

“And you left because they don't care about the people?”

“That's right. I always wanted to connect more, but I guess that's because of my Touch. Fittes were much more businesslike about it all, just going in and getting the job done and not caring about anything other than having another successful case under their belt. It just didn't sit right with me.”

“Well if you ever feel like working for a company again, you could always come and work with us,” Anthony Lockwood said. “I'm sure we could do with someone like you helping us out. Besides, we do care about the people; it's pretty much the only thing going for us other than our skill in the field.”

“First stop?” the driver called out, slowing the vehicle. 

“Oh, that's me,” Y/n stated, grabbing the door handle and getting out. “Thanks for letting me ride with you.” She moved to the boot of the taxi to take her kit bag and rapier, and was surprised when Anthony Lockwood followed her, helping her to balance all the bags inside and making sure that nothing fell out. “Thank you.”

“Not a problem. And I mean it, if you ever feel like joining us on a case then just come and find us.”

“That's... that's actually nice of you, thank you.” He nodded with a smile, then clambered back into the taxi (which looked difficult with how long and thin his limbs were). She stood on the pavement for a few moments, waiting for the taxi to start moving again and waving at the three agents left in the cab as they drove off down the road. 

As soon as she was inside her shared house, door firmly shut and locked and kettle boiling on the stove, she pulled up the chair at her desk and switched on her computer, typing in her password and logging in. Ten minutes later she had a mug of tea brewing on her desk while she furiously tapped at the keyboard for any information on Lockwood and Co, and was pleasantly surprised by what she found. There wasn't much, since she couldn't access a lot of the full reports of cases, but there was a decent number of newspaper articles that had been uploaded for her to read. One detailed the £60,000 fine that the company had been given for setting fire to a certain Mrs Hope's home a few years prior, and from the blurry black and white photo the blaze looked like it hadn't left much behind. 

Further research provided an address for their agency at 35 Portland Row, not far away from where she currently lived. One or two articles were about the parade incident from the Black Winter and Lockwood and Co's success in protecting the people present, but other than that there wasn't much more. 

She sat back in her chair, sipping the last of her tea. Bedtime for now, but when she finally woke up she'd head to the nearest corner store and pick up some food. The fridge had been nearly empty when she'd looked earlier, and she knew that Portland Row was on the way back. 

She wanted to say thank you again (and totally not spy on their house), and everybody loved a doughnut.

~~~

Y/n had knocked on the door roughly two minutes ago, and nobody had answered. 

She knew that they were all at home, because she could hear them arguing about who was going to answer the door, but nobody had done it yet. 

Knocking once more while balancing the box of doughnuts in her other hand she sighed, waited another thirty seconds, and just as she turned to leave she heard the locks click behind her. The door swung open to reveal Anthony Lockwood, once more dressed in a suit (a lot cleaner than the one he'd been wearing in the early hours of that morning), and a wide smile on his face. 

“It's you! Miss L/n, was it?”

“Uh, yeah. Just Y/n is fine though. Um, I just wanted to say thanks again for the lift last night, and for being nice and shit when you didn't have to be, and I bought some doughnuts if you guys wanted them.” She tried to surreptitiously peer around him to take a look at his front hall, but the interior was quite dark and cluttered and it was difficult to pretend to not be inspecting somebody's home when they were stood in front of you. 

“Oh, you really didn't have to, Y/n.” He took the box out of her hands anyway. “Did you want to come in?”

“No, thank you. I should get back. I've got a lot of paperwork to get through and I think one of my housemates is cleaning today and wanted everyone's help, so…” she trailed off, rocking slightly on her heels while Anthony Lockwood watched her. 

“Right, well, thanks for stopping by! And for the doughnuts, that was very generous of you.”

She shrugged. “I've had taxi rides with people I was actually working with and they were complete arseholes to me, so I really appreciated you not being like that when you didn't even know me.”

“Anytime.” He paused for a moment, then frowned at her. “How did you find us? I know I said that you could always drop by but I don't remember actually telling you where we live. There's not a problem with it, by the way, just curious.”

“Oh, I looked it up. Figured you meant to tell me and never got round to it. Besides, I needed to go shopping anyway and I live nearby, so it wasn't too difficult for me.”

“Ah, that makes sense. Well it was lovely seeing you again, Y/n. I look forward to our next meeting.” His smile was infectious, and she still had a grin on her face at the thought of him when she went to bed that night.

~~~

For the next few months, both Y/n and Lockwood and Co were busy with their own cases, but regularly passed each other in the street. Anthony Lockwood had taken to sending her a wink or flirty quite early on, and because Y/n believed it impossible that someone like him was single and therefore able to chase after someone like her, she ignored him. Every now and then she would indulge him, of course, flirting back to see how he would react (he was always pleasantly surprised and kept their little game going for as long as he could before he was needed), but for the most part she would walk right past him. 

It wasn't entirely her fault, since many of the times they bumped into each other she was on a time schedule, and didn't have the extra minute or so to flirt with the pretty boy. 

The last time had been different, though.

~~~

“Hello again, darling,” a voice said from her left, and Y/n smiled when she recognised it right away as Lockwood's. They knew each other better now, from the few times that they had been able to talk for longer and ask how the other was doing, and when he had found out that she was calling him Anthony Lockwood in her head he gave her a look of barely contained amusement and told her she could pick one. 

Anthony had felt too personal, since everyone else that spoke to him seemed to call him Lockwood, and she didn't think they knew each other that well for her to use his first name. 

“Come here often?” he asked, appearing in her field of view and leaning on the table she was sat at in the small night café. 

“Only when I know that you're going to be here,” Y/n responded, and delighted in the faint pink tinge that came onto his cheeks. 

“May I?” He gestured to the chair opposite her, and she nodded. 

“Not with your friends tonight?”

“No, they're probably at home already, lucky bastards. My case ran on a bit longer than I expected, and I couldn't wait for a cup of tea. Plus, when I saw you in here I couldn't not come and see you.”

They sat there for a while, making their way through two cups of tea each before deciding to leave, and Lockwood offered to take the taxi home with her.

When they were nearly back to Y/n's house, he spoke up. 

“I'll pay, if you like. I'll be paying for this stretch of the journey anyway so it doesn't make much of a difference to me.”

“Oh, Lockwood, I can pay you for my part at least, it's not a big deal to me.”

“Nonsense.” He seemed to hesitate for a moment, just as they drove around the corner onto her street. “Or… you could come back to Portland Row with me?” Their flirting had never gone as far as properly inviting the other back to their place (although there had always been the comments of 'why don't we finish this somewhere else?' or 'wanna come home with me and prove it?'), and it took Y/n a moment to realise that he was being serious. 

“I mean... if you're sure? I don't want to impose or anything.”

“No, you won't be imposing, darling. George and Lucy will be asleep, I'm sure. I think there's half a bottle of wine that needs finishing off if you wanted to share? No pressure though.”

“That sounds great, actually.”

“So are you two both going to Portland Row then?” the driver called, and Lockwood nodded. 

“Yes please.” He turned back to Y/n, worry starting to creep into his expression. “You did agree, right?”

“Yes, Lockwood, I did. I think I need something that's not tea to be honest.”

“You can stay the night, too. If you need to. I'll sleep on the sofa and you can have my bed.”

“I'm not kicking you out of your own bed, Lockwood. How big is it?”

“Darling, I'm scandalised that you would ask me that question. You know that size doesn't mat-” He was cut off by Y/n smacking him in the chest, and he chuckled when she glared at him. 

“The bed, Lockwood, how big is the bed? If I wanted to know the size of your dick I'd ask you to strip.” She ignored the weird look that the driver cast them in his rear view mirror and focused on Lockwood's answer instead. 

“Steady, darling. We're not back yet.” He yelped when she whacked him again, and caught her wrists and held them so that she couldn't attack him anymore. “It's a double.”

“Well then we can both fit, can't we?”

“Asking me to strip, getting me into bed with you? If I didn't know any better, darling, I'd say that you were trying to seduce me,” he smirked, leaning in close. 

“Oh, Lockwood. I think we both know I did that a long time ago, don't we.” They were dangerously close to kissing, their lips only a couple of centimetres away from each other while their noses brushed with every jolt in the road, and then the taxi was slowing and pulling up to the curb outside 35 Portland Row. 

“Alright you two, out. And use protection please, you're too young to be havin' kids.” Y/n flushed and opened the door, moving around to the boot to take out her kit bag and rapier, and when Lockwood followed a moment later after paying the driver his face was red too.

~~~

“Here,” Lockwood said, handing over a tea mug filled with wine. 

“Thanks. You're sure the others won't mind us drinking this?”

“They've had plenty of time to drink it, and I own the house and therefore the kitchen and the contents of the fridge are mine too, so I say it's fair game.” His smile was slightly blinding, but Y/n had learned to see past the glare and look at his eyes instead, finding the pure joy behind the façade he put up for the world to see. 

They didn't know each other that well, when everything was considered, but Y/n did call him her friend when describing their relationship, and she did feel that if asked, Lockwood would say the same. 

Around thirty minutes later Y/n was nearly doubled over with laughter at some stupid thing that Lockwood had said (the wine had gone straight to her head and she had no recollection of what exactly he had said), clutching her sides as they sat in the cluttered library with the bottle of wine between them. 

“You, Anthony Lockwood, are ridiculous!”

“I am! In fact, have I shown you my hat collection?”

“Is that some sort of weird euphemism? Or are you genuinely more deranged than I thought you were?”

“Not a euphemism, love,” he grinned, and Y/n in her wine-addled state thought about how he was starting to look like the deranged young man she'd just accused him of being. 

“So... you actually have a hat collection? Why?” Lockwood shrugged. 

“It's good for disguises when I need to do a little bit of extra research for a case. I can do accents too!”

“No offence, Lockwood, but I've heard some of your accents, and I'm very surprised that you haven't been hunted down and killed yet.”

“Believe me, people have tried!” Somehow he didn't look concerned about that, still smiling just as widely as before, and Y/n thought he looked rather nice like that.

~~~

When she woke up in the morning, Y/n realised she had never taken the painkillers Lockwood had left on the bedside table for her to use. 

“Shit,” she whispered, grabbing the packet and the glass of water and swallowing the pills the best she could in an attempt to stave off the headache that had formed. After finishing off the wine, Lockwood had managed to find some more alcohol hidden away in a cupboard in the library ("It's my personal stash, so don't worry about feeling guilty about drinking this") and they had stayed up until it was nearly sunrise talking about everything and nothing. She was regretting not drinking the water before sleeping, and when she flopped back onto the bed and under the covers she realised that there was someone else in the bed with her. 

Lockwood looked peaceful asleep.

While she didn't mind waking up next to him in the morning (the view was actually rather nice), not being able to remember what had happened the night before was a little disturbing, especially since she was in her underwear and, as far as she could tell, Lockwood wasn't wearing any clothes. 

The bedsheets had been partially kicked off in the night, most likely because the heating was apparently on full from the very warm temperature of the room, and the duvet had bunched up around Lockwood's waist. She didn't want to wake him by trying to find out if anything had happened last night, since he probably never slept with the sheer size of the shadows under his eyes, so instead she carefully got out of bed and picked up her clothes.

Finding all of her things was difficult, since they'd been flung all around the room in what she hoped was drunkenness and not desperation, but after nearly ten minutes she was dressed and reaching for the door handle. She didn't make it that far though, because before she could leave the sounds of somebody waking up started coming from the bed, and Lockwood was asking her where she was going. 

“Oh, I just... I just figured you wouldn't want me to stick around-”

“Why would you think that?” He was rubbing his eyes and sitting up, and she had to force her gaze away from where the sheets were dangerously close to revealing whether or not they had slept together. 

“I don't know.” There was silence for a minute or so while Lockwood tried to wake up enough to work out what was going on, and Y/n stood by the door feeling very awkward. “Did we... did anything happen? Last night?”

“Don't think so. I feel like I would remember that, darling,” he winked, and she felt her face heat up. 

“Oh, right. Yeah.”

“You don't seem convinced.”

“No, I am,” she said, very unconvincingly. There was another silence while she hesitated. “Are you naked?” she blurted out, immediately covering her face with her hands to block out Lockwood's shocked reaction. His laughter didn't help, only serving to make her feel more embarrassed than she already was, and she stayed safely behind her hands while she waited for it all to be over. 

“No, darling, I'm not naked. But if you wanted me to be then I'm sure we could figure something out.” She could hear the amusement in his voice and groaned in frustration, knowing that he wouldn't ever let her live this moment down. 

“I'm good, thanks.” She didn't really mean it, but it was nice to have a friend like Lockwood, and she figured that having sex with him probably wouldn't help to keep that friendship at all. 

“Alright. Well if you don't want to see me in my pants then keep your hands there, I'm getting out of bed.” For the most part she obeyed, but she would be lying if she said that she didn't peek through her fingers briefly while he was getting dressed.

~~~

Luckily the other members of Lockwood and Co were not at home when Y/n left that morning, having said no to Lockwood's offer of breakfast (she would pick up something from Arif's, even if it was out of her way a little), and within half an hour she was back in her own house with a very large cup of tea and a plate of food in her favourite armchair in the living room. 

When one of her housemates asked her where she had been all night, a suggestive tone to her question, Y/n simply shrugged, and replied “What's it to you?”

~~~

One week later she was running for her life. 

It wasn't that this sort of thing didn't happen often, since her job required a lot of running a lot of the time, but normally she wasn't this exhausted from it. She wasn't even working on a case, either. Y/n had just been walking home from her actual case for that night when she'd accidentally taken a wrong turn in her fatigued state and had come face to face with a bunch of Type Twos. 

At least she had her rapier and a few flares and salt bombs left, and her boots were solid enough that despite how much running she had already done that night, she couldn't feel the ground beneath her feet when normally her soles would be protesting in pain. 

“Fuck's sake,” she grumbled, heading for the nearest iron fence she could find. Unfortunately she still had to cross a road that was surprisingly busy at this time of night (or morning? she wasn't sure where the line between the two was drawn) and then vault over the fence into the park, which was probably also infested with Visitors. Going against every action movie she had ever seen she looked back (which was precisely what she shouted at the characters for), then immediately stumbled since she couldn't see where she was going. Her brief pause in her flight allowed the Visitors to catch up a little, and within a few seconds she was seeing her life flash before her eyes and throwing up her rapier in a last ditch attempt to not die. 

Then something else was flashing before her eyes, and the ghosts were being driven off. 

Y/n realised with a start that the flash had been Lockwood and his stupid grin, dressed in his stupid long coat that was stupidly attractive on him, waving his rapier around in stupidly perfect motions. 

“Did you miss me, darling?” She didn't even have time to respond, already ducking to not be hit by the bicycle a Poltergeist had sent flying their way, and Lockwood pushed her to the ground to dodge the railing that followed. They landed with a thump, and Y/n winced when her back hit the concrete of the pavement and then again a very brief moment later when Lockwood landed on her. 

“I did, Lockwood. I really did miss you.” She hoped that he could see how sincere she was, and he looked as though he was about to say something. Unfortunately he was cut off when a badly-aimed salt bomb exploded right above their heads, and a small “Sorry!” was called out from somewhere nearby. 

“Not to worry, George!” Lockwood yelled back as he got off the floor. He offered out a hand and Y/n let him pull her up, holding her breath when he pulled with more force than was needed and she fell into his chest. “Woah,” he said, voice quiet. “You alright?” His free hand had come up to steady her by the arm, and now he was gently stroking up and down. She wondered if he knew he was doing it. 

“Yeah. Can we maybe run away from the death bikes?”

“I think that would be a good idea. You going home?” Y/n shook her head. 

“One of my housemates has their partner over, and I'd really rather not be there. I was gonna put up with it but if you're offering your bed again I won't say no,” she teased. Lockwood's face went pink, but not from the cold or the running. 

“I'm always offering my bed, darling, you should know that by now.” His smile was as blinding as the flash he had appeared in, and then he was tugging her hand and leading her away from the ghosts (which wouldn't be able to follow after a while, since she'd already run quite far from their Sources), and instead heading for 35 Portland Row. 

When they made it inside (Lucy was already in bed, but Lockwood and George had been coming back from a case like Y/n), George bade the two of them goodnight, then tiredly climbed the stairs, leaving Lockwood and Y/n in the front hall. It was dimly lit, only the lamp on the hall cupboard providing any reprise from the darkness, and the yellow glow of it made Lockwood look ethereal. 

He had dust and dirt all over him, staining his usually perfect white shirt and tie, and his hair was a mess from the slight wind outside, but he still wore his confidence and his charm like a second skin, and he had never looked more like Anthony Lockwood in all the time Y/n had known him. 

“What were you even doing out there?” he asked. 

“I was coming back from a job, took a wrong turn somewhere, and came face to face with those fuckers. I'm just really glad that you were there in time because I probably would've ended up in hospital otherwise. Or a furnace.”

“I'm glad I was there too,” Lockwood said, stepping forward. He made to move his hand, as though he might reach out and touch hers, but then his fist was clenching at his side again, fingers flexing every few seconds. “I thought you would be alright, really. Then I saw you trip - why the hell did you look back? You always get annoyed when they do that in movies. I was scared, Y/n, that you might not get back up again.” She could tell that he meant it too, from the way he was looking at her. It was almost too much, his gaze, since it was heavy with so much emotion that they hadn't even properly addressed between them, and that was probably why he kissed her. 

She both had and hadn't been expecting it. 

It made sense when she thought about it, because beneath all the teasing and flirting there was attraction and a real desire, and she had always figured that being with someone was easier if you knew and trusted them. But she had never thought that either of them would act on it, since both of them seemed happy to let the friendship cover up the truth because at least that meant they weren't without the other. Bringing the truth to light could ruin that, and then they might not see each other at all. 

Now, though, she wondered why they hadn't kissed before. 

It had been brief, a few seconds at most, but it was enough to make her realise that they had been incredibly stupid in not doing it earlier. She had had such a long night - they both had - and when he pressed his lips to hers for the second time she knew that despite the fatigue and near death experiences involving bicycles, they would be alright. Her hands had moved without her fully knowing, and when they pulled away after the second kiss she realised that they were in his hair and clutching his coat that he hadn't taken off yet. His were nestled around her waist, holding her close to him while he searched her eyes for any sign to stop. 

The third kiss was the longest yet, and it took them a long time to move from the front hall to his bedroom.

~~~

Y/n had always been a fan of anything that shone, and had been called a magpie by nearly everyone that knew her. 

It didn't matter if it was expensive or not, if it was shiny, then she would have it. Growing up she hadn't been used to expense, and finding trinkets on the street was her speciality, but every now and then someone would buy her something a little less on the cheap side, and she would be overjoyed. 

Then of course there were the things she bought herself. 

The Fittes Ball that she was on her way to had invited agents of all kinds (a rarity for solo agents who usually went forgotten), and her outfit was one of the most expensive things that she had bought yet (other than her shared house). It was worth it, though, for the look on Lockwood's face when he first saw her. 

“You look incredible, Y/n/n!” Lucy gushed, immediately wrapping her new friend in a hug. George and Holly agreed, and while their fussing was nice it was Lockwood's opinion she really wanted. They hadn't spoken after the night they spent together two weeks ago, and now he had an unreadable expression on his face while he looked at her. It was ridiculous, really, how nervous she was to know what he was thinking, since she had never usually cared about what any man thought of her. 

“Thank you, I love your dress, Luce! And George, are you actually in a suit? No, no, no, you look very nice! Holly, you look incredible as always,” she said, returning the compliments her friends had given her. Her gaze kept darting back to Lockwood though, and after the others had moved away to talk to someone else, he cleared his throat. 

“Y/n.”

“Lockwood.” He took a step towards her. 

“You know I told you you could call me Anthony.” He had, not long after he'd taken her to his bed. 

“Oh, right. I didn't know if that was just... for then.” She was struggling to look at him now, so she missed the way his expression softened. 

“It's for whenever, darling.”

“Okay,” she said, and the small smile he gave her made her heart beat a little faster in her chest. 

“You look stunning, darling. Truly.”

“So do you, Anthony,” she replied, and this time she took a step forward to close the distance. A frown came onto her face, and when he asked her why she paused for a moment before answering. “What are we? Because we haven't spoken since... since that night, and now we're acting like we did before and I'm just quite confused.”

Instead of responding with words, he dug into his suit jacket pocket and pulled out a folded paper, handing it to her a second later. She tried not to focus too much on his hands (the memories of two weeks ago were coming back to the front of her mind now) and took it with confusion, starting to unfold it. 

“Oh, I'll be back in a minute, George is calling me over.” He flashed her one of his winning smiles and was off, moving in what she assumed was the direction of George. She finally unfolded the paper and was surprised to see that it was mostly blank, just one question and two little points below it. A pen had been folded into it, and she bit back a smile when she'd read the words. 

Would you go on a date with me? Please circle one answer

yes

no

He was ridiculous, she had decided, but then again she couldn't deny how ridiculously cute it was that he'd written out this mini questionnaire and put it in his pocket, despite not knowing whether she would actually be here or not to take it from him. Why he'd left immediately she didn't know, but maybe he was just too nervous to find out her reaction right away. She clicked the pen and circled 'yes' the best she could with no hard surface to lean on, and winced when the paper punctured. He knew where to find her, but she wrote her address anyway and the house phone number, and refolded the paper. Looking around she couldn't immediately see him, but then she caught a flash of a smile that could only have belonged to one Mr Anthony Lockwood, and she made for where he stood. He blushed slightly when he caught sight of her, then his cheeks burned brighter when she tucked the piece of paper and the pen in the pocket just inside his jacket (standing much closer to him than she needed to), and walked away without a word.

~~~

Two hours later they had snuck into the Fittes building's public library, giggling about something stupid one of the stuck-up snobs who was far too old to still be alive had said while they sipped the fancy champagne that was being served. 

“Do you think they get many kids in here? Like, actual kids who would need entertaining?” she asked, making Anthony look round from where he'd been perusing the shelves. 

“I doubt it. Why?”

“They've got origami. Look,” she pointed, putting her champagne flute down on a sideboard and picking up a sheet. “I used to be able to make loads of things, but I reckon if I tried making a rabbit or something now it'd look like someone folded a bit of paper a bunch of times and then sat on it.”

“I used to make those snowflakes where you fold it into quarters and cut bits out. Got quite good in the end; I could make chains of them eventually.”

“Of course you're good at making paper snowflakes,” she muttered, no hint of malice behind it. “You're good at everything, I swear.”

“Oh, that's not true.”

“Really? Name one thing that you can't do.” He paused, and she could practically see the cogs turning in his head. “See? You can't do it!”

“Well, I don't think that was very fair, actually, because you didn't give me long enough to actually think about it!” She moved to sit down, picking out various colours of paper squares before settling on one she liked. Anthony sat down next to her, his thigh close enough to hers that she could feel his body heat through his suit. He chose his own square of paper, immediately starting to fold it in different ways. 

“What are you gonna make?” she asked him, not looking up from where she was attempting to make an origami butterfly. 

“That's a secret.”

“Alright then,” she snorted, “be mysterious. Is that because you're bad at origami and you're trying to hide it by making me guess?”

“Sure, that's what's happening.”

They sat in comfortable silence while they worked, and when Y/n crossed her legs she made contact with Anthony's knee and drew in a breath. She refocused and looked at the paper in her hands, frowning when she realised that she had no idea how to make a butterfly out of it anymore, and sat back with a huff. 

“You alright?”

“Yeah, just bored, I suppose. What are you making?” He had folded his piece of paper into a thin strip, and now he was pulling the ends together, somehow making them link. 

“May I?” he asked, gesturing to her right hand. She didn't answer for a moment, too busy watching the way his fingers moved. “Y/n?”

“Oh, right.” She let him take her left hand in his, holding her breath for the millionth time around him both at the tenderness of it all and at the way his hands were so cold compared to her warm ones. He lifted the origami up and slid it onto her fourth finger, tightening it by pushing the ends together further. 

“You can take it off, if you want.”

She wasn't sure she was breathing. “Are you proposing?”

“What? No, if I was proposing you'd know about it, darling. I just… I don’t know.” He looked nervous, and although he hadn’t let go of her hand, she could see that he was fidgeting. 

“I love it, Anthony. Thank you.” He smiled then, small and as under as the way he was holding her hand, and she couldn’t help but ask what she’d been wondering for the last two hours. 

“Did you read my response?” Somehow he softened even more, and his grip tightened ever so slightly before he nodded. 

“Yes, I did.” Had he moved closer? She thought the distance between them was no longer as frustratingly large as it had been, but he was still too far away. 

“Well?”

“Are you free on Saturday? There’s a great place for lunch I’ve been dying to show you for a while now.” He was definitely closer, and she could make out the small scar on his lip in perfect detail. 

“Midday work for you?”

“Absolutely.” He was still holding her hand when he kissed her gently, like he thought she might leave at any moment, and when he pulled back after a couple of seconds she dragged him right back to her lips, shifting somehow even closer to him on the seat. The gift he had made that now sat on her finger felt as heavy as a gold one, filled with the promise of what could be and happy endings, and she found herself thinking that if the two of them did ever marry, she would be happy to do so with a paper ring. 

They were sat there kissing for a while, not stopping until someone shouted outside the door in drunken laughter, making Anthony and Y/n jump back in surprise. Then they were laughing too, like they were teenagers sneaking off (which, she supposed, they almost were, if you ignored the fact they were legally adults now), and he pressed one last quick kiss to her mouth before he stood up. “We should head out. I’m sure the others will be wondering where we are.” Y/n stood up too, still holding his hand, and moved to straighten his tie. She had pulled on it when they were kissing, and now it was all crooked around his neck. 

“I think they probably know that we’re together, though. I doubt that they’re too worried about us.” She finished fiddling with his tie and draped her arms around his neck, and flushed when he wrapped his own arms around her waist and pulled her tight against his body. They stayed that way for a while, just trading small kisses and swaying gently back and forth. 

“I’m glad,” Anthony said suddenly, breaking the silence. “That we… you know.”

“Nearly died and then slept together?”

“That’s one way of putting it. I just - I’m glad.”

“I’m glad too, Anthony.” Normally accidents like having sex with her friends was something she hated, but given it was Anthony Lockwood that it had happened with, she was happy to make an exception. 

~~~

That night, while Anthony finally managed to sleep next to her, Y/n stayed awake. The glow of the ghost lamp outside had woken her a few minutes ago while she had been surfacing, and now she couldn’t get back to sleep. Her dress hung on the back of his desk chair, and various parts of his suit were slung around the room in piles from where they had thrown them earlier in their haste to be as close as possible to each other. 

The ring now sat on Anthony’s bedside table, and although it wasn’t light enough in the room for her to make out its shape, she still knew exactly where it was. Before the two of them got too caught up in each other she had slipped it off, saying that she didn’t want it damaged (as it likely would have been), and when she placed it to the side her eyes had caught on the photo in the frame. 

“Is that us?” she had asked, grabbing the frame with both hands. 

“Oh… yes. Sorry, it was just a really nice photo and we don’t get to see each other that much, and-”

“Anthony,” she interrupted, warmth flooding her face at her next words. “I’ve got cut-outs from papers that wrote about you framed, so this is perfectly okay.”

She flushed again just thinking about it, and how softly he had smiled at her, and then how softly he had kissed her afterwards. She had been dreaming about him, about both of them, and what would have happened if they had stayed in the library at Fittes for a little longer (a lot of hushed moans and whispered words, and his hair completely dishevelled). 

He was the one that she wanted, she was sure of it. There had been others, but none of them had featured in her thoughts about the future like Anthony Lockwood did. 

~~~

Months later, when the seasons had gone from wonderfully warm and sunny (or as sunny as England could get) to cold and biting air, Anthony and Y/n were on a case together. 

She had officially become a member of the agency not too long after they started dating, and while Lucy and George had originally been worried about the logistics of living space, they quickly realised that their new hire would be sharing a bed with their boss. Y/n had settled in quickly, getting used to how her friends lived within a few weeks, and the company had settled into a nice rhythm. 

“A hotel? That’s a pretty big location, shouldn’t we have Lucy and George with us?” she asked as the taxi pulled up to their destination. 

“It seems to be contained to one area, from reports, and since they had a couple of actual children give statements I’m going to trust them. Just the outdoor space around the back, apparently someone - a worker, it says here - died while manning a barbecue near the large pool.”

“How do you die manning a barbecue?”

“He fell face-first into the coals, this says,” Anthony replied, waving the paper report around. They clambered out the taxi, thanking and paying the driver, and once the kit had been collected out the boot and the driver was heading back down the road, they were alone. 

“Well that’s an awful way to go. Type One? Or manifesting as something stronger?”

“Everything points to Type Two, but that’s nothing we can’t handle.”

~~~

He was right, as he so often was, but unfortunately the way in which they handled the Type Two ghost of the Barbecue Man meant they ended up jumping in a pool. 

The Source had apparently been one of the tiles on the ledge, where the Barbecue Man had tripped after falling face first into the coals and cracked his skull open on the edge of the pool. A delightful scene, Y/n was sure, but they hadn’t figured out what the Source was until much later. While she had been scouring the barbecue for any sign of a trigger for the Visitor, Anthony had been drawing it closer to the pool. He seemed to be having a wonderful time taunting the poor dead man, and she couldn’t help but curse him out a little under her breath. “There’s nothing here!”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, Anthony, I’m pretty sure!” She was just about to tell him off for questioning her when he stepped back on his right foot and made the Visitor shriek an ungodly noise. “Wait! Draw it away from where you currently are!” She wasn’t sure if he’d actually been paying attention to her words since he didn’t give any indication that he had heard her, but a moment later he started moving away, the ghost following him, and she was able to dive for the tile. The second her hands came into contact with it she felt the pain and torment that Barbecue Man had been in in the brief minutes before his death, and at the same time that she managed to dislodge the tile (it had been knocked lose, most likely from his head after he hit it) and wrap it in a silver net, Anthony jumped in the pool. When he surfaced, hair plastered to his forehead and coat and suit completely soaked, he shouted at her to jump in too, leaving the Source on dry land. She just stared at him, but then a rush of cold air hit her and she didn’t think twice. Anthony was waving his arms around, making the water move about enough to fend off the second ghost that had appeared. 

Unfortunately that meant that when Y/n attempted to come up for air, she got a face-full of water. 

“Anthony!”

“Whoops. Sorry, darling. Here,” he said, offering out his hand. She took it gladly, still spluttering slightly, and they hauled themselves to the opposite side of the swimming pool. The water was freezing, but it was better than being ghost-touched, and besides, Anthony hadn’t let go of her hand yet. 

~~~

Her hands were turning a little blue from the temperature of the pool. 

It reminded her of when they had been redecorating one of the rooms in Portland Row about two months ago. George had complained that the room was lacking something, and all inhabitants (and Kipps, although Anthony didn’t pay him much attention) agreed that they needed to update it. They had painted it blue, not too dissimilar to the colour of Y/n’s fingers in the present day, and while it had been a wonderful day it had also been the day of her and Anthony’s first fight. 

She couldn’t even remember what it had been about now, something stupid and fuelled by external factors such as job stress and fatigue, but Y/n had slept in Lucy’s bed that night. 

It had been a while before either girl went to sleep, instead spending the hours attempting to stop Y/n’s crying and watching the old tapes of movies and television shows from before the Problem that Lucy had stashed away on her bookcase. When the morning had come, Lucy had offered to go downstairs and sort out breakfast for them both, so that Y/n wouldn’t have to run into Lockwood, but Y/n had shaken her head, saying that the two of them needed to figure something out. 

The moment she had set foot in the kitchen, seeing the back of Anthony’s white dress shirt while he stood at the counter making teas (he had made one for her too, in her favourite mug), she had started tearing up again. He’d heard her sniffling and whipped his head around to see her hovering just inside the doorway, and immediately he had crumbled and rushed over to her, wrapping her in his arms and mumbling “I’m sorry” into her hair. 

Now, back from their case with Barbecue Man, they were sat in the library, Anthony pushing a cup of freshly made tea into her hands in an attempt to get them back to their normal colour. “Feeling any better?” he asked, sitting down in the chair next to hers and picking up his magazine. 

“Yeah, a bit. I can actually feel things again now, so that’s good.”

“Good. Well, I’ll keep you under surveillance for a while, just until I know you’re better.” She snorted, lifting the mug to her mouth. 

“Thanks, Doc. Much appreciated.” His responding smile was enough to warm her up entirely. 

~~~

A few hours later she woke up feeling disorientated, most likely because she never remembered falling asleep in the first place. Anthony was still in his chair on her left, but he had fallen asleep too, magazine splayed across his chest. Y/n stretched, yawned, and checked her watch, then started at the time. It was nearly half six in the morning, and they had come back from their case at around midnight. She wasn’t sure how long Anthony had stayed awake watching over her, but she knew that the moment he did finally regain consciousness she would be sending him straight up to bed for another few hours of sleep. 

She heard somebody moving around in the kitchen and went to investigate, finding George in an oversized t-shirt and no trousers putting the kettle on to boil. “Morning,” she said, shuffling further into the room and stuffing some bread into the toaster. 

“Ah, morning. Lockwood still asleep?”

“Yep. He’s in the library. Did you need him for something?”

“Oh, not really. I woke up at about four and was shockingly hungry, and when I came down he was sat reading his magazine. I was just wondering how long it would be before he was up again.” It made sense for her boyfriend to have stayed awake until he literally passed out from exhaustion, given how little Anthony normally slept anyway, and she frowned when she heard the stairs creak. A few moments later Anthony Lockwood himself appeared in the kitchen, bleary-eyed and smiling like there wasn’t a thing wrong with him only getting about two and a half hours of sleep. “I need the toilet,” George suddenly said. “If you could move out the doorway, Lockwood, that would be great. Thanks. The kettle should be boiled soon, if you two wouldn’t mind?”

“Not at all, George,” Anthony replied, already taking mugs out of the cupboard. “Who’s toast is this? I think it’s burning.”

“Oh, shit, that’s mine! Fuck that’s hot!”

“Not hotter than me though, right?”

“Shut up, Anthony. My fingers are burning.” He reached over and took her hand in his, not caring for the piece of blackened toast that sat on her plate on the counter, and pressed a gentle kiss to each fingertip. She had flashbacks to the last time her hands had been near his mouth in a far less family-friendly setting, and tried to stop her knees from giving out. 

“Better?”

“Um… I guess. Yeah.” If anything she was worse, since now her whole body was on fire at how sweet that one gesture was. He hadn’t even thought about it, since there was less than a second between her saying her hand hurt and him kissing the first fingertip, and that had her knees weakening all over again. She took a step towards him, threading her burning fingers with his and placing the other one on his chest to grab at his collar and pull him in for a kiss. He’d had a long night, she was sure of it, and the more-prominent-than-usual bags under his eyes were giving her a solid argument. The kiss was short and sweet, and when she pulled back he followed her for a moment before realising that it was over. He pouted, his eyes practically begging for her to kiss him again, and she let out a small laugh before obliging. That kiss was sweet too, but lasted a little longer, and the third one would have gone on for longer still had George not come back from the toilet and pretended to gag. 

~~~

“Anthony?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you ever think about just… leaving for a bit? Not completely, I don’t think I could stay away from London forever, but just running off on holiday for a while. Getting a break from the ghost hunting and constant threat of death.”

“That’s… really? You want to ask that now? Darling, my mind is not in the right place for an actual conversation right now.” His hand trailed over her bare side and his eyes were looking at everything but her face, proving that he really wasn’t in the right mental place for a conversation like this, but she tried again anyway. 

“Okay, but do you?” He sighed, reluctantly dragging his gaze up to meet hers. 

“I suppose I’ve never really thought about it before.” He paused, shifting his weight to get comfortable. His legs knocked against hers and his hand hadn’t stopped tracing the skin of her body, and he had never taken off the ring he always wore. It had been a pleasant chill against her earlier when she thought she was going to combust from his touch. “I think because of the company I wouldn’t take a break. And I’d have a lot of guilt about leaving when there are people who might be in danger and I could have helped them.”

“But if you could drive away, would you? None of the guilt, or people getting hurt. Just… going off on your own for a bit.”

“I don’t know about alone. I think I would want you with me, darling.” He punctuated his statement by lowering his voice and pulling her closer by her hips, flush against his body, and although she was tired she couldn’t help but feel warm again. 

“I’d be happy to drive away with you, Ant. Anywhere you go, I’m going too.”

“You mean it?” he breathed, eyes looking almost golden in the glow of his bedside lamp. He looked desperate for her answer, like he needed to know that she would truly always be with him because he couldn’t stand being left alone again. 

“Of course I mean it, Ant. I want it all with you; everything. The complications and fights and of course all the good things too. The horrible Mondays where we get clients who don’t realise that what we do is a full-time job and we don’t really get weekends, the times we do get days off, and we can just be… together.” She ran her fingertips over his arms, marvelling at the hidden muscles she felt. Given how skinny and beanpole-like he appeared, the first time she had realised how toned he was she had been pleasantly surprised. It made sense, she supposed, since he was incredibly proficient with a rapier and had been from a young age, and being that good meant he had to at least be somewhat physically fit and capable (he was very physically capable in other ways, too, something else she had learned early on). She didn’t think she would ever get over how much she loved his arms, or his hands, or how they looked when he rolled his dress shirt sleeves up and folded his arms against his chest, and from the look he was giving her right now he apparently knew that she felt that way. 

“You alright, darling?” Good lord, had his voice gone even lower? His eyes had gone from being a honey-golden to a dark syrupy brown, and if what she could feel against her lower half was any indication she could tell that his mind was back to being somewhere other than their conversation. She sounded out of breath when she spoke. 

“I’m alright. Do me a favour?”

“Anything.”

“Wrap me in your arms?”

“Absolutely.”

She definitely shouldn’t have this much of an obsession with his arms, but the moment his arms tightened around her torso and her thigh, bringing her on top of him fully while he sat up with her in his lap and kissed her deeply, she couldn’t find it in her to care. 

~~~

On their one-year anniversary, Y/n woke up early. 

She didn’t want to, but the moon was shining brightly through the bedroom window, and there was a gap in the curtains that let the light through. It was landing on the books that had been stacked up on the bedside table, titles just about visible and all of them ones that she had read before. The moonlight was also resting on Anthony’s face while he slept, and he looked like he had in the taxi on that night when they had first met, ethereal and effortlessly gorgeous (but not quite so tired and weighed down by responsibility), and she found herself falling in love with him all over again. 

It was probably all forms of creepy to just lie and watch him breathe while she tried to go back to sleep, but there was something oddly soothing about it: the rise and fall of his chest and the peaceful expression on his face. It was rare she got to see him so relaxed, the only other times were when he had a day off and was sat in the library with a cup of tea, Y/n sat nearby, or when they had spent time exploring each others’ bodies, hands roaming over skin and through hair while they made love. 

The paper ring that he had made her just over a year ago, not long before they started officially dating, was sat on the bedside table next to the stack of books. He’d made her new ones at random points throughout their time together, but the original one that he’d folded from that piece of paper in the Fittes public library had remained in pride of place in her jewellery dish in their now shared bedroom at 35 Portland Row. 

Looking at it now she was absolutely certain that he was the one that she wanted, taking him in marriage with a paper ring, putting their pictures in frames to decorate their home, and he was the one she wanted in all of her daydreams. 

Anthony Lockwood was her future, and her future was looking wonderfully bright. 

lockwood tag list: @anathemaloren, @anthonylockwoodandco111, @augustisintheair, @avdiobliss (hopefully you get this notification, ik it's been weird recently), @briar-rose23, @curseofhecate, @dangelnleif, @el-de-phi, @ell0ra-br3kk3r, @informedimagining (hopefully this works for you too my lovely), @karensirkobabes, @locknco, @mischivana, @mitskiswift99, @mrsklockwood, @mrsyixingunicorn10, @novelizt, @ran23sblog, @superpositvecloudshipper, @t2sh0, @taygrls, @tournesol77, @no-morning-glories, @whenselenefallsinlove, @wordsarelife, @zoom1374, @light-23, @ahead-fullofdreams

and then I'm tagging @neewtmas, @oblivious-idiot, @bobbys-not-that-small, @maraschinomerry, @uku-lelevillain, and @lewkwoodnco because I've been promising you this for a while and you just didn't know it :D

if there is anybody who wants to be added to my lockwood tag list, then please go here! I am aware that it has been a while, but from now on I will be checking this post every time I write a new fic to see who is there, so head on over to give a comment or a like and I'll pop you on for next time! <3

[cosmerelists]

If Cosmere Characters Had Real-World Jobs (But Not The Obvious Ones)

In this list, I wanted to try to give Cosmere characters jobs in our world while avoiding the jobs that would be the most obvious picks--like, for example, the real world equivalent of whatever their canon job is.

1. Kaladin: Professional Football Player

It's a dangerous job that Kaladin's dad would scoff at, but the other kids in town think it's really cool and also the recruiters are coming through town and, I mean, he's really good at football.

2. Lirin: Public Defender

If we avoid the obvious job (doctor), then Lirin still needs a job where he is doing good, but it's pretty thankless and the general public are suspicious and think he might actually be evil somehow. So I figure: public defender. He's highly educated, helping people who need it, and just getting nothing but grief as a result. Worst of all, his smart son wants to be a FOOTBALL player!

3. Marsh: Masseuse

I feel like people who are good at hemalurgy know about the body and its pressure points and things like that. And frankly, "acupuncturist" felt too on the nose.

4. Shallan: Park Ranger

Shallan HATES to be confined, so no way she's going into an office job. Plus, she likes nature and animals, but I'm trying to avoid the more obvious jobs (like botanist or ecologist). It's just too bad that Shallan is SO bad at staring a campfire, though.

5. Navani: Wedding Planner

Navani is VERY good at managing people and events, as seen when she had to manage everything while Gavilar was off plotting. She's also very organized and literally invented wristwatches. So I think she's be very good at this job.

6. Elend: Grad Student

This one may be too obvious, but I figure something like "politician" or "philosopher" are more obvious. But to me, Elend has major grad student energy.

7. Nale: Insurance Adjuster

Nale is a cop, of course, through and through. But if he wasn't a cop, then he'd need some other job where he uses the rules to screw people over. So I see him as, like, an evil insurance guy who's denying people medical coverage because the company wants him to.

8. Blackthorn-Era Dalinar: Debt Collector

If flashback Dalinar couldn't make a living mowing people down in battle and had to find a less obvious job, then I could see him being the guy to hunt down people and demand money they don't have. He doesn't really care about the money. He just likes the hunt.

9. Adolin: eSports Player

It's a job where you can head-to-head battle people and your dad is vaguely puzzled and thinks you should be doing something more important with your life.

10. Lightsong: Customer Service Agent

In canon, Lightsong's job is to face down a huge line of people and tell them "no" in response to them asking for something they want. So, I mean, I feel like that's equivalent to one of those shitty customer service jobs where you're not really allowed to help people (until, of course, Lightsong goes rogue and does start helping people, but that's another story...)

11. Stormfather: Bus Driver

He has his route, and he's not deviating from it. And if you miss the bus, he's not stopping. He's not going back. You can try to run, but you will not catch up to him.

12. Tress: Mechanic

As a Sprouter, Tress had to figure out how each of the spores worked and how to use them. I just feel like she'd be good at diagnosing issues in machinery and then fixing them.

13. Steris: Programmer

She's precise, she's smart, she likes rules. I think coding would suit her.

14. Yumi: Waitress

She could stack the plates SO high.

15. Marasi: Investigative Reporter

Which, honestly, is what I wish she had been rather than being a cop like in canon. I think it would suit her! She'd get to research, investigate, find the truth...

16. Kelsier: Motivational Speaker

He tells you about the power of smiling no matter what, so that you are never defeated. He tells you to carry something small, some memento or photo, to help you find your motivation. You tells you that no goal is out of reach--you just have to find the right people and the right steps to move forward. And he tells you that the most important thing is to survive.

[bittersweetarts]

How to Disappear - Chapter 3

Soldier Boy (The Boys) x OC

Word count: 4220 words

Summary: Eden Reid can't help her curiosity, and Soldier Boy can't help but take advantage of that curiosity.

WARNINGS: Cursing, substance abuse, minor violence

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - AO3 Page

Chapter 3: Out of the Woods

What Ben – correction, Soldier Boy – did to Eden, really was a pain in the ass. A real fucking pain in the ass, and Eden will never forgive him for it.

Running away from a woman’s home after having sex with her, before she is even awake, hurts.

But what hurts more is forcing said woman into a situation where she has to lie to some jackass insurance agents about how she was somehow robbed while asleep, and the thieves in question only decided to steal her little old Mazda, which she had bought almost a decade ago, and now consisted of so many spare parts that it might as well be Frankenstein. On top of that, some officers from the local station had to inspect her home to file the report, and no matter how much Eden tried to clean, the smell of dope still lingered, which was humiliating.

It was a small miracle that her claim was actually approved.

Turns out in the case of theft, insurers will only cut a check for the current value of the car, regardless of how comprehensive the insurance is, and how much of a premium Eden paid for it. And unfortunately for Eden, her Mazda was not really worth all that much.

Motherfucker.

In the weeks that passed, Eden found herself cursing Soldier Boy for the mess he’d made for her. But as angry as she was at the ex-hero, she was angrier at herself, for getting herself into such a mess.

She decided to help a Supe and she had only herself to blame, and worst of all, she knew better, for that was the very reason that she dropped out of college and decided not to pursue a career as a Supe herself.

Eden only got angrier when their last moments together came to mind. The feeling of his warm skin against hers, the sweet nothings he spoke into her ears, the way he filled her up whole. Fuck him. Eden now absolutely despised him, for the way he makes her feel, and for inconveniencing her life.

Who the fuck steals nowadays. 

And so, after dipping into her meager savings and taking some PTO (not that she had any other choice, as she literally could not go to her workplace), Eden became the proud owner of yet another Mazda, this time an even older second-hand model in a navy color, and after a week of lots of walking and terrible public transport, Eden was finally able to return to work, where she was greeted by the ire of her co-workers (Matt was not happy by the increased workload on his plate due to her absence), and the bitching of her manager, Leslie, who went on and on about how he had mistakenly thought Eden was more of a team player. Fuck them too.

Work itself continued on as normal.

Eden worked in a private IVF Clinic in East Brunswick, and during her nine-to-five, she pretty much only greets patients and their partners, handles the telephone whilst managing records and accounts. A normal job for a normal person, that’s all Eden was looking for.

Eden also liked that her job was not strenuous or intense, and as the weeks passed, and December neared, Eden slowly started to forget about Soldier Boy. Work and her now tight budget distracted her, and Eden hated to admit it, but the car payments she had to deal with on top of constantly rising fuel prices and bills were starting to get to her, in a way they didn’t before.

Eden never had many good friends, because to Supes, friends are just tools to be used and discarded, and since moving to Jersey, Eden never tried to make any. But now, she wished she had someone to talk to, because the stress of life was getting to her. She woke up feeling exhausted, food made her feel nauseous, and every time she used her new car, a new problem seemed to arise.

The car seemed to use more fuel than her old one, the radiator started leaking, the sensors began to malfunction. Eden now visited the mechanics at least once a week, because her new car was a gift that just kept on giving.

The young brunette was not having a good time. And not that Eden would ever admit it, but the man she provided refuge for woke up something in her that was dormant before, the part of her that craved the affection and company of another.

Maybe that’s why when Felix, one of the younger mechanics from the Royal Auto Service Centre, asked her out on a date, Eden said yes without a second thought.

And maybe that’s why after a couple glasses of wine their dinner at a restaurant by the Raritan River, Eden found herself in his studio apartment in the city, under his sheets with him.

Felix was from Jersey and worked in the Centre with his cousins and guys he grew up with on the block. Unlike Soldier Boy, his hair and eyes were dark, and he spoiled her from the very start. At first, it was discounts for the work done on her car.

“Consider it the friends and family discount.”

“So, I’m your friend.”

“Maybe you can be something a little more.”

And it didn’t stop there. Felix would bring coffee to Eden during her lunch break, never let her pay for anything, and though a little corny, Felix never failed to compliment her.

“You look so beautiful.” “I love your smile.” “Your hair looks great today.”

The compliments were never ending. Eden was never insecure about her appearance, but he did make her feel good. He always looked out for her, and whenever she felt faint or ill, he never failed to take care of her, making them stay in and take it easy after work.

However, Eden did wonder if they were moving too fast. Barely three weeks into their relationship, and Eden was staying more nights in his studio than in her own bed. She had already met his friends and sister, Maria, and saw him practically every day.

And no matter how wonderful he was to her, Eden couldn’t help but compare him to Soldier Boy and even her only ex, Alex, who she tried to forget. Felix was not as well-built and sensual as Soldier Boy, but he cared more about her pleasure in bed, and actually, he reminded her of Alex before they broke up years ago.

Felix was nice, he was good to her, so why couldn’t Eden stop comparing him to the others.

It was near midnight on a Saturday, while Eden was with Felix in a noisy bar downtown, when she received a call from an unknown caller. Eden had cut contact with her family and anyone else she knew before dropping out of college, so getting calls to her personal number was abnormal for Eden.

“Be right back babe.”

Eden excused herself from the table where she and Felix sat, along with his co-workers, Jared and Rafael, and their wives, Lisa and Elena. As she stood up, Eden showed Felix her phone, to show she was going to be answering a call, before kissing Felix’s cheek and leaving traces of her rosy lipstick on his skin. Eden could feel judgmental eyes on her, but tried to ignore it as she stood, pulling down her dress and grabbing the coat on her chair, before heading out of the bar, to the smoking area.

A part of Eden was happy to have an excuse to leave the group and have a moment to herself.

The group have known each other for over a decade, and the couples there were high school sweethearts, and as far as Eden could tell, completely normal. Eden had gone out with them before, but she had never been entirely at ease. She got along with Jared and Rafael well enough, and they worked in the Centre as mechanics with Felix, and had the joy of working on her car (which was only a joy because they got to mock her for it).

Lisa and Elena, on the other hand, were not so friendly with her, often excluding her from conversation, and Eden could not do anything about it. Felix tried to reassure her, telling her that they probably didn’t trust her yet, and to give it some time.

With a small smile, Eden stepped into the freezing cold, which was only bearable because of the red wine in her system. The young brunette was met with the stench of cigarettes and a bunch of smokers, who glanced in her direction before continuing with their own conversations.

At first, Eden let the call pass, having not reached outside before the ringing ended. But the unknown caller called again, and this time, Eden managed picked up the phone.

“Hi sweetheart, it’s me.”

A cocky, self-assured voice that Eden remembered all too well spoke into her ear, and Eden’s smile suddenly dropped. The young brunette was silent for a heartbeat, before she impulsively responded, tone full of spite.

“Fuck you.” Eden heard a deep chuckle on the other side of the line, which only infuriated her even more.

“Don’t break my heart and tell me you forgot already. You already fucked me, doll.”

“And holy fucking Christ, why did I? You are literally a hundred and something year old and still act like a fucking man-child.”

To Eden’s irritation, her insults make Soldier Boy laugh even more.

“That’s not very nice to say. You used to be so sweet to me, doll. What happened?”

Eden’s eyes widened at his shamelessness, and as her voice raised, the spectators around her started to pay attention, reveling in the drama that was unfolding before them. Eden spat practically each and every syllable, but Soldier Boy only found amusement in her reaction.

“I don’t know, maybe I’m annoyed because some fucked-up bastard stole my fucking car. Oh wait, that was you, you fucking prick. You make me sick to my stomach.”

“I sure do.” Soldier Boy responded still laughing, words slightly slurring into one another. “Don’t worry sweetheart, I'm just borrowing. You’ll get a replacement later.”

“Forget it, I don’t need a fucking thing from you. Do me a favor and never contact me again, because trust me, hell will freeze ten times over before I have the remotest desire to hear from you again. As far as I’m concerned, your jackass is dead to me. In fact, we’ve never fucking met.”

Eden heard a clicking sound from the other line, as though Soldier Boy’s amusement had worn off and he was scolding her, like a parent does to a child, clicking their tongue against the roof of their mouth.

“Are you done with your tantrum, doll?”

Eden’s eyes widened in infuriation, and she ended the call without second thought. The young brunette could feel eyes staring at her, and as her phone rang again, she looked up and glared at the first person her eyes met; a blonde girl who barely looked legal, stood with a couple men, who looked twice her age. Eden couldn’t help but snap at them.

“Are you all entertained? Mind your own fucking business.”

Eden’s ringtone still dominated the acoustics of the smoking area, the sound of which made Eden want to smash her phone into the exposed brick wall behind her. Instead, Eden declined the call, swiftly blocked the number, before switching off her phone.

Try fucking calling me now, asshole.

From the corner of the eye, a lit cigarette was offered in her direction, and looking up, Eden saw it was the blonde girl she snapped at mere minutes ago, who had walked up to her, to offer some emotional support. Although Eden wasn’t a smoker, she still enjoyed the occasional cigarette, and it was very much needed now, so she took the cigarette, offering a grateful smile.

“Tough breakup?”

As Eden inhaled the cigarette, she choked, not because she wasn’t a smoker, but at the notion of her and Soldier Boy sharing anything like a relationship. Before answering though, Eden deeply inhaled the cigarette she held again

“A breakup would imply that we were together. Which we weren’t.” The blonde girl charismatically laughed, her blue eyes looking at hers in understanding.

“Been there, done that. You’re better off without him girl.”

“I definitely am.”

Eden responded in agreement, hugging herself to provide some relief from the cold, as she answered. Right on cue, she saw Felix walk up to them, smiling and flushed from his drinking. As he saw the cigarette in her hand, his smile faltered and brows slightly furrowed.

“Everything alright babe?”

“Yeah, all’s good.”

Eden nodded, before dropping the cigarette and stamping on it with her boot. She started to feel lightheaded, but tried to not let it show. Looking back at the young blonde girl, Eden mustered up a smile.

“Thanks for the cig. Have a good night.”

“You too, take care of yourself.”

The girl responded, smiling knowingly as her eyes darted between Eden and Felix, before walking back to her group.

“What took you so long? Who called?” Felix asked inquisitively, as he wrapped an arm around Eden, his warm body providing refuge from the cold as he guided her back into the bar. Eden couldn’t tell him the full truth, but she also didn’t have to completely lie, yet she did so anyway, without remorse.

“Wrong number. Don’t know how, but I ended up chatting with that girl, and lost track of time I guess.”

As Eden finished with her weak lie, in front of the bar, she turned to face Felix and gently tugged at his wrists, pulling him in for a kiss, to which he happily obliged. The kiss was deep, and though the bar was crowded, Eden felt like she was being watched, just as she had been in the smoking area.

Dismissing her paranoia, which was probably spurned by that prick, Eden tugged Felix until there was no space between them, making him laugh at her affection, and Eden laugh in return as well.

Mondays are always rough, but this Monday was particularly cruel to Eden.

In between the freezing cold, feeling weak and nauseous and dealing with a shitty work environment, Eden was clearly having a wonderful workday. And to make the day even better, Dr Andrews called in sick right at opening time, so Eden had the pleasure of dealing with cancellations, rescheduling, and angry clients who were tired of waiting for their delayed appointments with a now different doctor. Oh, and her only co-worker, Matt, decided to skip work that day as well.

“My appointment was at one, but it’s already half past two.”

“This is ridiculous, we have known Dr Patel for years, just let him know Nina and Christopher here.”

“I have waited for over an hour, this is unacceptable, and you’re not helping. Where is your manager?”

The complaints kept going, the phones just kept ringing, and Eden was struggling to handle it all. She even missed her lunch hour, as the clinic did not close for the hour, and Eden was running on no fuel, as she felt too nauseous to eat breakfast in the morning.

Eden was strong though, that is literally her ability, so she willed herself to persevere. Some days are more challenging than others, but they’re not impossible, or that’s what Eden tried to remind herself.

But it was during emergency broadcast being played on the TV in the lobby, Eden lost it.

It was the late afternoon, the lobby was finally emptying out, and Eden was busy dealing with the final clients of the day, exhausted, when an emergency broadcast by the Vought News Network captured the attention of everyone in the lobby.

“Good evening, thank you for joining us. Breaking news out of the capital today, only hours ago. Deadly blast outside of Ford's Theatre, killing at least 14, injuring at least 29. Police are still investigating the incident, but the leading theory is that it is an unfortunate pipeline accident. We turn now to Vought News Network’s Chief Domestic Correspondent, Bradley Hunter – Bradley.”

“Liam, it was during the afternoon performance of A Christmas Carol, when during the closing act, a huge explosion went off. Officials are still investigating the source of the explosion, but it is assumed that due to the building being old, it was an unfortunate gas pipe accident, but this will take time to investigate as the site has been severely impacted.”

The reporter stopped speaking for a moment, and Eden, who’s eyes were glued onto the TV along with the handful of people in the lobby, were met with screenshots of a well-built man in blurry video, and the figure was a very familiar one to Eden.

Eden’s heart dropped and stomach churned as a high-definition image of a well-built brown-haired man, dressed in his famous Supe costume, appeared on the screen.

“There have been videos circulating across the Internet of what appears to be a now-not deceased Soldier Boy, who we know in the past had gained the ability to self-explode due to dangerous Soviet experimentation, but we at the Vought News Network need to clarify that this is fake news. Our tech and video verification analysts have been able to confirm that the video involves AI-generated content, so Soldier Boy…”

As the supposedly fake video of Soldier Boy leaving the burned down theatre started playing on the TV screen, Eden’s head started uncontrollably spinning, and quickly, the TV and lobby noises started fading away.

Bright lights blinded Eden, and as she forced open her eyes, she was met with the concerned look of a blonde man in scrubs in front of her, who then proceeded to smile.

“Ah, finally you’re awake. You had us worried. Miss Reid, can you please open your mouth for a moment.”

Disorientated, Eden did as she was asked, and a quick checkup of her state was done by the man. “My name is Dr Williams, and I’ll try to be quick.”

Eden, sat in a bed, realized she was in the emergency room, as fluorescent lighting shone on her, and a makeshift curtain-walls surrounded her, and the man in front of her, Dr Smith, read his clipboard as he spoke.

“About twenty-five minutes ago, you were brought here from your workplace, from a fainting spell. You had lost consciousness, and it was unclear whether you had hit your head on anything. Upon the examination by the EMTs and myself, we have determined it unlikely, as we do not see any point of impact, and your cognition appears to be in normal condition.”

The blonde doctor pauses for a moment and meets her eyes.

“Have you had any fainting symptoms earlier today or this week? This could include any dizziness, light-headedness, nausea, and/or heightened stress levels.”

“Well, for the past three-to-four weeks, I, uh.” Eden pauses for a moment, feeling unfamiliar nerves kick in. “I’ve been feeling weak, light-headed, and uh, nauseous. But I assumed that I caught a bug or something.”

“It says here on your file that you are Super-abled, and that you have increased strength which reflects onto your immunity. When was the last time you were ill?” Eden furrowed her brows at this.

“I’m not sure, it’s been a long time.” Eden genuinely could not remember and was starting to feel worried. To this, Dr Williams hummed before responding with another question.

“Forgive me, I do not mean to be intrusive. When was the last time you had your period?” Eden quickly realized where this was going, and started to feel worried.

“More than a month ago – but I have an IUD, and my menstrual cycle hasn’t been regular in years. And my partner always wears protection.” Dr Williams hummed again, before finally responding.

“Well, it doesn’t hurt to check. We will get some blood sample analysis completed, and conduct a standard pregnancy test just to make sure, as there is still the possibility of pregnancy even with an IUD. Do you have someone you can call, maybe your partner?”

“Are you sure you want to be alone tonight, babe?”

Eden was sat in Felix’s pickup truck, parked in front of her cabin. The moment her boyfriend had heard that she was in the ER, he had practically sprinted their himself, and did everything to make her feel better. According to him, he felt guilty for not noticing that she was unwell to begin with, and he had even gotten Rafael and Jared to bring her Mazda to her cabin while she was at the hospital.

It was dark, past nine PM, and Eden felt depleted. After waiting for the test results, and having one final consultation with Dr Williams, Eden felt like she was living outside of her body, and even the extortionate hospital bills haven’t affected her, because in her bag, she had pamphlets which made her want to faint all over again.

Shaking her head and leaning over to the driver’s seat, Eden kissed Felix, before responding, while putting on her coat.

“It’s okay, I don’t want to burden you. Lab results say it’s just iron deficiency, but to be safe, I’ll take a day or two off to recover. The doctor prescribed bed rest, but with you around, I won’t be able to get any of that.”

This made Felix grin and shake his head, before pulling Eden into another passionate kiss, with a grip so strong that Eden had to use a little bit of her Supe-strength to pull away, surprising him.

“I’ll be fine on my own, you don’t have to worry about me.” Eden said, before quickly opening the door and leaving the car, not giving her partner the time to respond. And as she stood on her front porch, waving goodbye at him, it took everything in her not to throw up.

This time though, Eden knew that she needed to throw up not because of nerves, but because somehow, she managed to be the less than one percent of people with an IUD, who had managed to get pregnant.

And in her bag, there were countless pamphlets, about every fucking topic possible with regards to pregnancies. Prenatal nutrition, exercise during pregnancy, managing pregnancy discomforts, preparing for labor and deliver, abortion clinics in the area.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.

The thoughts run rampant in Eden’s head, so much so that as she entered the cabin and switched on the lights in her home, heading straight to the kitchen, she failed to notice a large, bearded man sitting on her living room sofa.

“Ahem.”

Eden’s heart practically jumped out of her throat as she dropped her bag, its contents spilling out, and when she quickly turned to face the source of the sound, she was met with a man who literally scared the living shits out of her. She screamed almost immediately.

“Jesus, get out!”

Eden immediately grabbed the kitchen knife that was in its holder on the counter, and watched as the man stood there, not affected whatsoever by her screaming and threatening gesture. Instead, he started to speak theatrically, in an over-the-top Australian accent which made Eden even more disorientated.

“Now calm down, love. We are civilized folk after all. I just want to have a little conversation you, and then I can be off on my merry-way.”

As he spoke, the man slowly stepped closer to Eden, almost cornering her, which made her feel more frantic and fearful. Eden said nothing, and stepped back towards the hallway as he approached, still waving the knife in her hands in the air.

“Who the fuck are you! Why the fuck are you in my house?”

Eden’s focus was entirely on the man before her, who now started smiling at her.

“Who I am is not important, but I do need to ask. How does a nice girl living in the woods and working as a receptionist get tied up with a grizzled cunt like Soldier Boy?”

At the mention of Soldier Boy, Eden immediately lunges at her intruder, knife in hand, but he quickly knocks it out of her hand, and the knife skids to the other end of the living room. Eden didn’t let it affect her, as she immediately punched the man in his stomach, and immediately he falls to the ground groaning.

Eden wasn’t an idiot and told no one about Soldier Boy. She knew it was not a good thing that the man before her came to ask her about him. And he seemed crazy, especially at that very moment, when he started talking loudly, as though to someone else.

“Alright then, I fucking tried. Now can we wrap this up before she breaks my fucking ribs.”

In the blink of an eye, Eden felt herself tackled to the ground by someone much stronger than she was, and a rag was violently pressed against her face, and no matter how hard she thrashed and tried to push herself off, she was unable to.

As she faded out of consciousness, the intruder and another man stood above her, moving their lips, but Eden couldn’t hear or understand anything.

Author's Note: I wrote this chapter in a day and my brain is now frazzled - Hope you enjoy! As usual, feedback and comments are appreciated <3

– Chapter 4

[eomma-jpeg]

bc i might have been motivated by comments on twitter and my own hubris... here is part 2 of the post trimax vashmeryl baby au

part 1

Snorting into wakefulness, Vash’s hands tightened, immediately feeling for the baby. He was relieved when he felt her familiar weight on his chest, his tense frame relaxing back into the plush couch. Falling asleep was not something he had intended to do, but ever since crossing that threshold the night before he had felt an uncommon reprieve from the title of ‘outlaw’. Perhaps it was because he was under the protection of Meryl Stryfe.

Meryl.

Sitting upright and clutching his daughter to his chest, Vash turned his head around the room, seeking for any sign of his friend, but he was only met with the dim light of the early morning. It laid in little dots on the wall and countertops, the single sun peeking in through the blinds. 

“Meryl?” Vash called, but the sound only summoned his daughter’s whining, her face buried in his chest for a bit too long. Pulling her into a more comfortable position, Vash said, “Sorry, little one, but it seems we have lost our host.”

Venturing through the small apartment, Vash was unable to find any signs of human life. The insurance agent had seemingly disappeared into thin air. He suddenly felt a wave of anxiety.

Why did she leave? Where could she have gone? It was still so early in the morning. Far too early for work or any other proper errands. Did she leave to go get camera equipment? This would be the perfect opportunity to catch him while he was down, unable to run from an interview. Maybe she wanted to exploit the baby for views.

Vash shook off those intrusive thoughts, feeling guilty for allowing himself to think of Meryl in such a way. Despite the fact he knew they had moved on from insurance to video journalism, he had a strong feeling that Meryl (and Milly) weren’t likely to expose him during his lowest points. Although, he wouldn’t consider the small child in his arms one of his lowest points. 

Deciding to have faith in the woman and squash his fears, Vash shifted the baby in his arms and began scavenging for something to eat. He'd just repay Meryl (somehow) for the food, so she shouldn’t mind if he ate the veggies in her fridge that looked like they were about to go bad. He also found a can of generic chili, excited to eat something spiced with his various dry vegetables. 

The babe squirmed, her chubby arms freed from her swaddling and waving about. Vash set his breakfast down to try and stick her arms back in, but she had a discontented look on her face, frowning ever so slightly at him with pouting lips and round knowing eyes. He wondered if he had once looked like her. 

Vash quickly swallowed the strange hot bile that rose anytime he thought about how much he and this little girl must resemble each other, seeing as she would almost certainly only contain his genetic makeup. And that meant she contained the same makeup as Knives. He swallowed again at that thought, focusing more intently on his scrappy meal and less on thinking.

Lucky for Vash, he was exhausted even after his short descent into sleep. He didn’t have much room for thinking or reminiscing (not that there was much to reminisce on). Instead, he let his skilled hands do the work of carrying a child and pulling flowerettes of broccoli from the head. He plopped them into a pot, intent on filling it with water and boiling the green vegetable. He’d apologize to Meryl about the smell later.

Letting the veggies boil, Vash searched for another pan, hearing the creak of the cabinet door and the front door. It took far too long for the signals to reach Vash’s brain, likely getting stuck in that hot goopy emotions he had swallowed earlier.

“Good Morning, Ma’am! I brought some breakfast. Just some poppyseed muffins I-”

Vash turned just in time to see Milly freeze, one hand on the door knob, the other holding a plate of fluffy muffins. Her jaw hung open, but she didn’t wait long before sliding the muffins onto the couch and rushing forward.

“Mr. Vash! It’s been ages since I’ve truly been able to talk to you! I had hoped you would-”

Milly froze once again, this time just shy of wrapping Vash in a tight bear hug. Vash’s face was scrunched up in apprehension as he pulled his limbs in and clutched his baby to his center.

Surprise turned to awe and then to excitement as Milly ran through her spectrum of emotions. Then, far too loud for a man who had only slept three hours in the last week, Milly shrieked, “A baby! Is that a baby?! I love babies!”

Waving a long finger in her face, Milly made little cooing noises while the baby looked back, a bit unimpressed. That was to be expected, seeing as she was only three days old; appeasing others was not yet on her to do list.

Milly’s smile was quite lovely to see this early in the morning, adding to the brightness of the rising suns. Her eyes flicked over to his, “What a lovely little baby. He or…”

“She,” informed Vash, his voice rough.

“Well, she’s adorable. What’s her name?”

Taking in a deep breath, Vash realized he hadn’t said the name aloud yet.

“Tesla.”

That vivid smile of hers continued to keep his spirits up, “That’s so pretty! I’ve never heard a name like that before.” Milly waggled her finger again and Tesla nearly caught it with her own chubby fist that had once again broken free, “She has such pretty eyes, just like… well, just like yours,” she said matter of factly. Then, standing to her full height, Milly looked at him curiously, “Where.... Vash, where did you get a baby?"

Speaking frankly, Vash said, “She’s mine.”

Eyebrows raising, Milly said, “So I was right: she does have your eyes. But when did you get Meryl pregnant?”

Vash felt his heart stop

Milly barreled forward, “And how did she hide it from me? She’s so small and would have such a hard time keeping it a secret, unless it was cryptic. My mom told me that she had a cryptic pregnancy with my little big brother, but they’re so rare. Was it during Octovern? The time frame would make sense but I didn’t think we had any alone time to-”

Vash was reeling from Milly’s ramblings and assumptions, “Milly!” he said, interrupting with a bit too much force that was certainly influenced by his overwhelming embarrassment, “She is not Meryl’s!”

Cocking her head, Milly let out an awkward laugh, “Well then, whose is she?”

Looking down at Tesla, Vash’s tense brow relaxed, “She’s just… mine.”

Milly gave him one last skeptical look before accepting his vague answer, likely accustomed to his aversion techniques, “I’ll get the answer out of you eventually, but for now it honestly looks like you need breakfast and a nap.”

“I just woke up.”

“And yet,” Milly said, which was only the beginning of a sentence, but it clearly described her opinion of his situation, “Why don’t you take a seat and eat a muffin.”

Vash graciously took one, biting down and enjoying the fluffy texture immensely. His last month had consisted of dry rations and the rare drink he could afford at the even more rare saloon, but as of the last few days Vash hadn’t eaten anything.

He took three more muffins.

“I’m glad you like them,” said Milly from the kitchen where she adopted Vash’s mismatched set of ingredients, “I added just a hint of lemon to them. I’ve had too many overpowering lemon muffins in my time.”

Vash just took another bite while she spoke. Tesla wiggled slightly when a crumb fell on her face. He wiped it away.

“It seems you have the makings for a pretty good omelet,” Milly noted as she rolled an onion in her hand, “But I don’t see why you’re boiling broccoli.”

“It was going bad,” Vash said through a mouthful of muffin, “Figured I should use it before Meryl gets upset that it's rotting in her fridge.

Milly slid a cutting board out from one of Meryl’s few drawers. The kitchen was certainly compact– a characteristic of many December apartments if Vash’s experience was to be trusted– but it held a vast and valuable collection, “I thought as much, but it doesn’t pair well with your other items,” she turned to him, “I assume you were just trying to get in as many calories as possible?”

Milly Thompson: always able to see though to the very core.

Pulling off the wrapping on the final muffin (which was extremely hard to do with one hand) Vash answered, “Seems like you already know the answer to that one, Milly.”

She just put on that wide, knowing grin, “Then broccoli and eggs and muffins sounds like a perfectly balanced breakfast to me.”

It might not be in terms of flavors, but it definitely packed a significant amount of nutrients for one plant. And for Meryl, if she ever reappeared. 

As if reading his mind, Milly asked while cracking the remainder of the eggs into a bowl, “Is Meryl here?”

He let out an exhale, a bit strained, “No. I haven’t seen her since I got here last night.”

“She didn’t call me when you got here.”

“I guess I should say when I got here this morning.”

“Ah,” she said in understanding, pouring the recently whipped eggs into a ripping cast iron, “Well, she’ll turn up eventually. Especially since we walk to work together in the next hour.”

Vash hoped he could stay awake long enough to see her return.

[who-knew-a-sheep-can-write]

Reunited: Reaper x Fem!Reader (NSFW)

Contains: Soft sex

It’s been ten years; Ten long, cold and very lonely years since you saw your husband. You remembered the whole day down to the dot, you couldn’t help but wallow is misery from it for so long.

It was a party at the Overwatch base in Switzerland to celebrate Overwatch’s success with an infiltration and he had invited you to stay for a few days. When the fun was over and your stay ended, you bid him goodbye on the plane back your home in California to wait for his arrival. He had gotten clearance for a break from Morrison, family issues is what he said but it was really because he was thinking about settling down and starting a family. You spent the whole day cleaning and cooking for his arrival when you heard of the awful news.

The base had been bombed.

Overwatch agents showed up at your door hours later to give you the news that they could not locate Gabriel in the wreckage, all they could find was his wallet, the very small wedding photo kept in the slip was missing.

Overwatch paid you his insurances and made sure you were taken care of, by protocols and policies- but you didn’t give a shit.

They kept saying he was dead, but you knew it wasn’t true.

He was alive. Somewhere, somehow, but you knew he was alive.

For ten years, you never gave up hope, that there was some slim and nearly impossible chance that he would be found somewhere.

Your life continued on as best as you could. You wake up, go to work, come home and go to bed only to repeat the cycle every day for ten years.

Not once did you lose faith.

It happened about two months ago. You noticed things were off around you, you felt like you were being watched, you noticed things would be moved.

You would come home to a window being open that you knew you had left closed yet nothing was taken.

You would notice things like your bed had been made when you left it a mess during a bout of pressuring grief, dishes that you had left in the sink now clean and put away.

What stuck out the most was that you had heard something go bumo in the night and when you went to go investigate, you found the fireplace mantle had been meticulously cleaned, frames of pictures of you and Gabriel spotless with the glass polished.

The news of Overwatch reforming had broke and had settled in your gut an odd feeling. You knew Gabriel was out there somewhere, but somehow this news had twisted your gut in knots.

It was one of those days, you had been caught thinking over the past, still grieving, still meticulously playing with your wedding ring as you wandered around your house. The stench of cleaning supplies had your nose tingling.

Last night it had happened again. Something had been done as you slept, urging you to go through your house and clean and try to see if something was taken again.

This time something was added to your house.

You woke to find Gabriel’s old Blackwatch beanie on your end table, folded and pressed neatly, still smelling like his shampoo.

You wandered into the kitchen, intent on pulling apart the cabinets just in case whoever it was that was doing this had hidden more of Gabriel’s things somewhere else.

You bent down to start digging when you saw a dark shadow move in the corner of your eye.

You felt a presence behind you, something large and looming. You swore the air around had gotten colder. Your back stiffened, your shoulders squared, and you hesitated on turning around to face the person that was behind you. The warmth was sucked out of your home by whoever it was, you heard the creaking of what sounded like heavy boots- oh how you missed that sound.

Your heart started to pound in your ears, your eyes twitching with tears, your lips quivering as you had to bite your lips to stop from letting out a shaky breath.

The familiar scent of cinnamony warmth hit your nose.

You spun on your heel to face the intruder-

To face him.

“Gabriel?” you whimpered.

There was a big looming figure just behind the archway from the kitchen to the living room. He stood there, draped in black like he normally always did. Instead of his tight and jagged Blackwatch armor that you remember to be all shiny and glossy was now instead black leather and rubbers, a flowy black coat that obscures most of what else he’s wearing. What struck out to you the most was the mask he wore. A bone white mask against the midnight clothes he wore, shaped as though an owl skull tried to play human with the narrow eyes and the high cheeks of the mask. He looked thinner, he looked cold and pained where he stood. His hands were balled at his sides, clawed gloves in tight fists.

“(Y/n),” he echoed back.

How you’ve longed to hear your name spill from his lips once more, even if the circumstances are like this.

“Gabriel, is that really you?” you took a step forward towards the wraith.

“Mi amor-” He mirrored every step you took. “Mi amor, I’m here.”

One step closer, two steps, three until you both had crossed the distance and met under the archway.

“You’re really here…” You gently raised a hand and ghosted it over his chest. God, he really was cold, almost as though he were dead. He made no move to back away from your touch, he stood rock-still before you. You gently placed your hand on his chest, palm flat against the broad expanse of his built body. “You’re alive.”

You looked at the hollowness of the eye sockets in his mask, and somewhere in the darkness, you saw the glints of his eyes.

You moved your hands to his mask, cupping the sharp and jagged jawline. It was colder than he was and bone-smooth. He reached up carefully and wrapped his fingers around your wrists, keeping his eyes pinned to yours at all times.

“(Y/n)-”

“Let me see you, Gabriel.”

Your voice was just barely audible, the wraith tensed under your touch at those words. You both stood in complete silence for god knows how long until he had released your wrists, allowing you to slip the mask off his head.

You gasped softly, eyes widening with tears. He was just as handsome as the day you both met. He didn’t look much different. Still the thick and brooding eyebrows, the dark and warm chocolate eyes, his dark goatee that always prickled your skin in the best ways when he kissed you. His skin had a slight gray tone to it, and his face had a few deep scars along the cheeks and one across the bridge of his nose that was new, but other than that, it was still your Gabriel.

Gabriel softly cupped your cheeks and looked down at you, a few tears slipping past and dribbling down his cheeks.

“You’re just as beautiful as the day I saw you last,” he whispered.

Before you knew it, you both had your arms wrapped around each other’s shoulders and necks. Your lips were smushed together as your fingers snatched at the back of his hood while his fingers were buried in your hair. Your mouths melted together, tears flowed from both of you, both of you were shaking.

Finally breaking for air, Gabriel didn’t let you go too far before he grabbed at your waist and hoisted you up without a second thought and carried you to the bedroom he last saw over ten years ago.

Placing you on the bed as carefully as he could, you couldn’t help but lay on your back before him, your hands still grasping at his brawny shoulders. Gabriel placed one knee up on the mattress beside you, climbing on top of you. His hands were on either side of your head, caging you in beneath him. His hood had been thrown back and he was panting wildly, there was something carnal in his eyes.

Leaning back down to capture your lips in a kiss once more, he leaned his torso down just a bit lower so your chests were touching. Your heart was pounding so loud you swore he could hear it, that he could feel being this close to you again.

It felt like it was a dream, some sickly sweet dream that you would wake from and go back to a missing husband in a cold and lonely house.

But it wasn’t.

Gabriel growled into the kiss lightly, it sent tingles and little shocks down your spine and crackled a fire somewhere deep inside of you. You moaned softly into the kiss and snatched at the collar of his coat, fingers scrunching up the smooth leather and dragged him even closer to your body until there was no space between you both.

Gabriel broke the kiss with a soft growl, nosing your chin to the side to leave kisses along your jaw and down the columns of your throat. His cold body pressing against your warm flesh made your face heat up among other places. You moaned softly and he pressed a kiss right over your throat, sucking just hard enough that it would leave a mark surely in the morning.

“I’ve missed those moans, mi amor,” he purred. He took in your scent, hands balling the sheets and blankets roughly under his harsh grip. “I’ve missed the way you felt, the way you smell, the way you make me feel.”

“Gabriel,” you whined. You felt something hard start to poke at you from below. You knew what it was, what was pressed right against your nether area so closely. “Gabriel, I-”

“Say it,” he ordered.

He made eye contact with you and refused to break it. His eyes were wild, pleading, knowing what you are going to say.

“Gabriel I need you. Ten years and I need you more than ever.”

Some deeper hunger settled in his gaze, chocolate eyes going dark and lust took over him.

“I’ve waited to hear those words for years,” he hummed.

He backed off the mattress but kept you laying down on your back. He shrugged off his cloak and allowed the thick leather to pool on the floor at his feet as he toed off his boots. He grabbed at your loose pants and pulled them carefully off your body, down your legs where he took his time to admire the curves of your body so far. He was examining you, looking over the body of his wife, of his lover that he hasn’t seen in a decade.

“Tell me what you want, mi amor, and I will give it to you.”

“I want you, Gabriel. I want you to make love to me.”

Gabriel reached for your hips and drew you closer to him, just enough for your knees to bend at the edge of the bed. He hooked his fingers around your panties and dragged them down, allowing them to fall to the floor with your pants and his cloak and boots. You shivered at your bareness being exposed to the chilly room. Your soft nethers were wet, but to Gabriel, you knew it wasn’t wet enough.

Gabriel kneeled at the mattress just far down enough to pull your knees over his shoulders. Slowly and as gently as he could, he leaned his head forward and parted you with his tongue. It was cold against your hot, moist core. You whined and arched your back, Gabriel grasped your legs so you wouldn’t move as much.

It felt like days that he was licking and sucking at your womanhood, draining you of everything you had, all of the pent-up emotions you’d bottled up for a decade now just evaporating now that he was here eating you out.

Gabriel had pulled away, you’re knees were trembling as he held them. You looked up to see there was a glisten to his goatee from your slick. You hadn’t orgasmed yet, but you felt it was coiled tight within you like a cobra, ready to strike and release and let you climax finally.

Gabriel carefully wrapped your legs around his waist before he went to fumble at his belt and zipper. The damn thing was worse than wrestling a snake, not wanting to move and release until he finally managed to unravel everything and drop his pants to join yours.

You’ve missed him. You’ve missed this. You’ve missed all of this, all of him.

He was gentle, rubbing the head of his cock with his thumb, smearing the bead of pre-cum that pearled out around the head. He leaned over you, propping one knee up again on the mattress. Ever so slowly, you felt the head of his cock brush against your wet folds, you felt yourself be split from your core as his thick cock spread you apart. You grabbed at his broad shoulders as you gasped, your head turning against the mattress and sheets.

You cried out in pleasure as you felt him slip inside of you. He fit so perfectly, his thick cock stroking the insides of your plush velvet walls just tightly enough to cause blissful friction thts sent your head spinning with supernovas and galaxies before your eyes.

He fucked you slowly, he leaned down to press kisses to your sweaty flesh with his cold lips.

[vioranhyperfixation]

Disable!Damian Al Ghul au #4

Times in the lounge of assassin #1

[=] Damian Al Ghul

�� Damian spent 95% of his time in the LoA studying and doing mission.

• Damian grew up with a lot of studying to make up for his disabilities, but that doesn't mean he doesn't experience discrimination. He experienced it, a lot. But if he learned one or two things from his grandfather is that, if you just actually look, he mean look, at everything you can see they have hidden advantage. You just need to search, and then they have everything in it, so he view it as being spoiled ( in his case it is)

• His past time is either watching Jason and #011 doing whatever they do as he talk about whatever he like, or he does whatever he feel like at that moment.

• With Jason he also like to hear him rant about his past live in Gotham, they got to gossip real quick once Jason got news on what happened in Gotham.

• He had at least done everything once in his time at LoA.

• He's being teach everything including but not limited to LoA and Al Ghul way of killing.

• Around the same time he realised he wants #011 as insurance, he also realised how bad his position is and need a quick insurance so he end up with a proposal for an entire new organization with no ties.

• He somehow managed to get the approval after wondering around the world in three month, three fatal wound, and dying once.

• That wondering around fill up with scamming, gaslight, gatekeep, making up myth and legend that's absolutely not there.

• His organization is build around everything he's sure will benefit him.

• Most or the members of his organization is handpicked by Damian, either he found them somewhere and inviting them with a formal letter. Or that he saw them when he's in his mission, look useful, pick them up, and brought them back.

• Damian goes around with a wheelchair, before he got his attendant he usually wheel them himself so he pack quite a punch.

• He got his attendant after his first time dying on his 6th birthday

• His attendant is a meta with tentacles at her back that she can control as she wish.

• Damian internally keep side eyeing Ra's.

• Damian still get a lot of mission, but it's nothing involving killing as it suggests that he's a possible heir of Al Ghul.

• Damian enjoyed his mission as Ra’s would let him keep one thing or two from his mission as long as it did not affect the aftermath of the mission. And he also met his friends and his insurance there.

• One of his organization member + Insurance that he gained from the mission is when he was tasked with dealing on a slavery action. Some people from that place did not have other places to go, so Damian decided to take them with him to be his agent in his organization that he built and divide their training method depending on their talent which would be beneficial for him in the long run.

• The people that he take as to his organization would be sheltered and trained to be the best version of their place, the minimum of time they must spent is two years before they got deployed

• The system he uses is different for each kind of member, it works depending on the results of the method, but the main system is the reward system. How it works is simple. At the end of your training and mission you would be given coin’s based on your progress and outcome, that coins would be stored into your id and barcode, and that coin is the currency that you can use to get whatever you want within the organization.

• The agent of the month gets a lot of work benefits.

• His organization cover a lot of things, from medical to resort to entertainment but the main bussiness is trade.

• The bussiness may be different but all the employees, even the one that's unaware of the big boss are all required to be capable of self defense and the routine if an emergency happened.

• He is generous with the pay

• I mean, he is loaded. Why must he care?

• He is very judgemental so all his personal personel is very talented.

[spoofymcgee]

to my great sorrow, i did forget until today, when i was rewatching the maltese falcon job, exactly how obsessed i am with jim sterling.

he is just the funkiest little guy. no one is doing it like him.

he keeps on catching the group of criminals the fbi, cia, mi6 and like every crime lord on earth has failed to catch. he keeps losing them because he thinks their leader, his former partner, still actually doesn't want to be a thief and somehow keeps tripping face first into being a criminal mastermind. his gimmick is hiding in trunks. he carries a baton on his person. he wears shirts with fun little patterns. he's an insurance cop. he's an interpol agent. sometimes he will find a silly little crime job for the band of criminals he tried to arrest last thursday. he has no shame. he worked with maggie for years and didn't tell her that iys killed her son.

there is no one on this planet who has that kind of panache. i want to put him in the clothes dryer. i want to pick him up by the scruff of him neck and shake him like a kitten. i want to keep him in a little terrarium on my desk.

[dragonlover123a]

Guardian

6'5 Vash the Stampede

1in Meryl Stryfe

It was early morning on Gunsmoke, before the first sun had even peeked out over the horizon when Vash had started heading out of the hotel. He had seen a bounty hunter watching him the night prior and wanted to get out of town as soon as possible.

Normally he would wait for the two insurance girls to get up before leaving town. But with the tall girl on a vacation leave with her family and bounty hunters on his tail, he wanted to put as much distance between him and the little one. For her safety. He told himself. It didn't matter if not being in the same town or the same building or even in the same room as her made him anxious and antsy. It was too dangerous for her to be near him. Besides, she aged, he didn't. It wouldn't be fair to her to get old and wither away as she watched him stay the same for eternity.

But despite all this, something made him stop as he passed her door. Testing the handle, he was surprised to find that it was unlocked. Thats odd... She always locked her door. "Meryl?" He called out, looking around the room and his eyes landing on something small on the pillow.

Eyes widening in fear, Vash dropped his bag and rushed over to the bed. He knew exactly what this was. A long time ago Knives had created a specialized worm that could shrink someone overnight with a bite. Many of the victims died quickly, getting lost in the sands. Yes Knives had reformed, but the shrinking worms had bred and multiplied since then, making it impossible to wipe out the population. "No no no no no no no no. Please Meryl... Please be alive..." He begged, gently taking her diminutive form in his hands, gently pressing his pinky against her chest and sighing in relief when he felt her heart still beating in her chest.

Getting up, Vash went to close and lock the door before sitting back down on the bed and cradling the shrunken insurance girl in his hand, waiting for her to come too.

Opening her eyes, Meryl couldn't help but feel like something was off. Last time she checked, hotels didn't make their sheets out of... Leather? Sitting up, she inspected the material she had been laying on. Worn black leather that seemed awfully familiar. But she couldn't quite place it until she heard her name in a familiar voice. It was too loud and too far up than it was supposed to be, but familiar.

Meryl looked as far up as she normally would, but was only met with a large red wall. Looking further up, she finally met his eyes and screamed.

Vash jolted a small bit, startled when she screamed. "Meryl! Meryl it's okay. It's just me. You're safe. It's okay, you're safe" he comforted, smiling softly when she calmed down.

Okay... Meryl thought, looking around the the now much bigger room. She was probably at most an ich tall, at the mercy of the Humanoid Typhoon with her life in the palm of his hand. Which meant she was probably bitten by a shrinking worm and somehow survived the process. And yet, despite her circumstance, every fiber in her body was telling her she was safe here. "We need to get to November" she suddenly said, now all business.

Vash blinked, straightening in surprise. "November? Why would I go there? That place is crawling with military!"

"It's also where the main office for the Bernardeli Insurance Society is. There's a policy in place for situations like this. If any agent of the Bernardeli Insurance Society contracts a shrinking virus and survives, anyone can claim guardianship. Including outlaws. Provided an outlaw does claim guardianship, as long as they follow company policy their bounties can be temporarily put on hold until a further court hearing"

For a moment, Vash was silent, thinking. Could he really shed his bounty? Live peacefully with Meryl, Milly and Wolfwood? All he'd have to do is take care of Meryl. He could do that. Keep her in his pocket, or in his collar... "What are the company policies?" He asked after a while.

"Help me write reports, keep damages to a minimal, bring me to the office every now and then to show them I'm still alive" Meryl listed off. "That sort of thing. Once you claim guardianship they'll brief you"

Vash nodded, "I saw a little shop next to the saloon. Sold little clothes and food and stuff for shrinking virus survivors. And there's a bus that leaves in a couple of hours for November. Should we borrow a phone so you can call your boss?"

Meryl nodded and within the next few hours she had a new wardrobe and had called her boss, letting him know the situation and to make sure no military personnel tried arresting Vash the moment he stepped into the city as he was claiming guardianship over her.

Now they where on a bus, Meryl's typewriter balanced perfectly on Vash's lap as she directed him on what to write. But she couldn't help but watch as his long fingers effortlessly fly over the old keys. What took her hours to write only took him mere minutes. Smiling softly as he finished, Vash took the plas-paper out of the writer and held it up to Meryl for her to read. "Did I do good?" He asked, hopeful.

Meryl read over the report, sipping from her new canteen. As with just about almost everything he did, it was perfect. She was a senior disaster agent and had been writing reports for years and still had flaws in her reports. There where absolutely no flaws in the one he just wrote for her. "It's perfect Vash. If you where more responsible you could've been a disaster investigator yourself" she lightly teased.

Vash playfully scoffed, carefully folding the plas-paper and placing it in an envelope before putting the travel type writer back in it's case. "I'm plenty responsible." He retorted, gently poking her in a way so she would fall into the folds in his duster's cowl.

"Says the man who is over a century years old yet still can't hold down a job or make himself a full meal."

"You know as well as I do why I can't hold down a permanent job. You saw Augusta. And the whole thing with Legato. And it's not like I really have the time to cook all that often" he argued.

"Wait... Vash. Can you even cook?"

"I'm 134 years old. Of course I can cook. Can you?"

"Who do you think made dinner for that Schezar guy?"

"Touché"

The rest of the trip was spent in silence and next thing they knew they where in the main office of the Bernardeli Insurance Society talking to the secretary.

"Name of agent you're claiming guardianship over?" The woman asked.

"Meryl Stryfe"

"Agent number?"

"Um..." He looked at Meryl, who was on his shoulder. "47-A. Senior Disaster Investigator"

"47-A. Senior Disaster Investigator" he repeated.

"Your name?"

"Vash the Stampede."

She barely looked up, looking bored. "Do you have a last name or is it actually "the Stampede"?"

He chuckled sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck. "Sometimes I use the name Saverem"

"Kay." She said, typing the name. "Have a seat. The boss'll see you in a minute"

He did as he was told, looking around the office nervously as his leg bounced.

Meryl placed a hand on his neck. "Vash. Calm down. No one here is going to turn you in. We're here to put a hold on your bounty, remember?"

He nodded, sighing as he gently pressed the small woman against him in a form of calming affection. "I know"

"Mister Saverem?" A man called out, making Vash look up and quickly stand.

"Follow me Mister Saverem" he said, leading him to Mr Bernardeli's office. "In there"

Vash entered the office, seeing a somewhat pudgy man with graying hair, a big mustache and square features. He couldn't help but smile softly. The man reminded him of a character from a series of Old Earth movies based on comic books.

"Well if it isn't the one and only Vash the Stampede, I'll be damned" the man mused in a gravely voice, standing to shake his hand, which Vash took politely. "My name is Jonathan Bernardeli. I'm Meryl's boss. I heard your claiming guardianship over her?"

Vash nodded, letting go of the man's hand and sitting in front of him. "Yes sir. I am. We've been traveling together for quite some time. I think I'll be able to properly care for her"

He smirked. "You better take care of our Meryl. She's our best agent. Which is why we sent her to you, ya know"

Meryl couldn't help but smile proudly at this as Vash smiled at her, a brow raised. "Oh really?"

"Yes really. Now about your bounty. I assume you know the requirements?"

"Yes sir"

"Good. I'll put in the paperwork to have it suspended today. But we will have to schedule a proper court hearing to get it gone for good. For now, consider yourself a free man Mister Humanoid Typhoon" He said, standing and opening the door for him to exit.

Vash grinned, "Thank you." He said, holding Meryl close to him as he left the building. He was now officially Meryl's guardian, and he was going to protect her with his immortal life as long as Meryl was still alive and well.

[pancake-breakfast]

Second week, second volume! Trigun Book Club!

Archive

Trigun Volume 1: Covers + 1-3, 3 Detailed Thoughts, 4, 4 DT, 5-6, 5-6 + DT, 6 DT, 7-8, 9-10

Stream-of-consciousness thoughts for Trigun Vol. 2, Covers + Extras, below.

Trigun Volume 2 Covers

The cover for this volume is so pretty, what with the plant all coming out of Vash's gun there.... Pretty and strange and kinda disturbing.

I wonder what's in those jars floating around the hairy-legged plant man thing. Are they even jars? Blood bags? Hard to say.

Hey! Wolfwood's on the back cover! WOLFWOOD IS ON THE BACK COVER!!!

Also, Legato Bluesummers. Shit.

Aaaand there's a blow-up doll on the fake back cover. Because why not.

There are a LOT of familiar faces on the back of the Japanese Volume 3 cover. I don't like it. They mean bad things are coming.

Ok, Legato's getting eaten by a shark on the fake version of it, though, and I think that's hilarious.

BUT NOT AS HILARIOUS AS MERMAID WOLFWOOD'S SEASHELLS AHAHAHAHAHAHAHA I'M DYING!!!! Nightow's obsession with this man's tits confirmed.

Extra 1: Day In Day Out

Ooh, a glimpse into the daily life of Mr. The Stampede? Why do I suspect donuts are part of it?

I'm gonna be honest; I did NOT peg Vash as an early riser. Then again, it might be important if you're on the run all the time.

LOL, I remember him not being very good at meditation.

I'm imagining that egg is hard-boiled. Or hollow. Like, this is still a good trick. No need to waste breakfast on it if it fails, though.

Three HOURS?? Dang, no wonder the guy's got skills. I can't do much of anything before breakfast.

Oh, fine. I guess it was a raw egg.

LOL, "John P. Smith." The most boring alias he could come up with. I wonder what the P stands for. Pseudonym, perhaps?

Psh, Vash can be plenty sneaky. But only in fights. Or when fleeing insurance agents.

Serious Vash expression! I seriously love all his expressions.

Gambling at chess. Ok, man. Whatever floats your boat.

LOL, he lost all his money. I take it back; he needs a new hobby.

Yeah, he's definitely letting the kids get him. As we see with how fast he switches to being the person in power when the motorcycle comes through.

Funny how much trouble one can stay out of by simply foregoing revenge.

Vash would like oldies....

Ew, this bike guy's kinda creepy.

"Sonic Sodom." Yyyyyeeeeaaaahhh, that's not exactly a name that inspires trust.

I love the irony in this panel. They're talking about how dangerous Vash is while he's (apparently) being taken down by a small child.

Dude. Who fires a gun to get people to shut up like that?! Rude.

LOL, the bleeping.

Props to this lady. She's like, "I don't care who you are. If you're gonna come in here, shoot things up willy-nilly, make threats, and swear at us, then you take your ass elsewhere." Like, this happens after this guy does all these things. Mad props.

They bleeped out all that stuff, but he still calls her a bitch....

Hahahaha, that's a wonderful way to take care of the issue. Good job, Vash!

Extra 2: Pilot

(Fair warning: I'm in a Mood as I write this due to some real life stuff, so apologies if it's overly vague or anything.)

Post-Hiroshima environment?? Damn.

Heck, I'd take two years of food as a form of payment....

Ahhhhh, this jacket! It lacks the sexy leg slits, but I still love it. Also it still somehow manages to show off his waist. And throwing the Love and Peace fingers with his clearly mechanical hand!

I'm in love with this first line. "We fell from the sky like droplets of rain." Poetry. MAJOR props to @trigun-manga-overhaul for their choices in both flow and rhythm for the words.

The second sentence is a lovely contrast, what with the rain versus the sun. But also a lovely parallel, as both images are destructive.

Covering a few additional elements here: metal, wind, sand/earth.

He can't ever escape being surrounded by graves, can he? Babygirl here needs a break. I love how small he is relative to the field of death.

HEY. The right alcoholic drinks are GREAT with ice!

Oh, shoot. I recognize this story from '98.

LOL, look at him go. This was my favorite Vash entrance in all of '98. It's very memorable. I hope Johnny Yong Bosch had a blast doing the voiceover for it.

He's just dancing away from the bullets, as if it's all just luck.

LOL, three guns. It's Trigun!

Goshdarn stupid flip-up glasses....

I love how quick his reaction goes from this (Seriously, what is he, a teenager??)...

...to this.

Psh, as if Vash the Stampede needs a measly pistol to wreak havoc.

Ah, the return of lecherous Vash. NGL, was kinda hoping that moment was an anime-only. Though they really took it and ran with it, though, didn't they?

You don't get to say, "That's no way to treat a lady!" to others when you were just looking up her skirt.

LOL, I love her response here. Perfect.

Huh. Something tells me these guys are after a bit more than a rich guy's "pocket money." Is it the fact that one of them shoved a gun in the daughter's mouth? Could be. Could be....

Distracting table-crash provided by... Vash the Stampede. I told you he didn't need a gun to wreak havoc. Though of course the whole incident gave the guy's friends time to restrain him and get him away from the girl before he did anything rash.

Look at him. He's just a little guy....

Vash, not taking any chances. Distraction might not be enough. Use Advanced Projectile Gum Technique!

This sure is a colorful cast of characters....

I'm just saying, they don't really seem like the type of folks the sheriff should have on speed dial.

I love how pissed off Vash looks as they're talking about how he'll kill them all if he shows up. This is the face of a man who's had it with your lies and slander.

Dude, the rich guy was like, "Just so long as my daughter lives," and the sheriff was like, "They'll do the job so long as you pay upfront," but girl's gonna get taken down in the crossfire.

Or, she would if Mr. The Stampede wasn't there.

The girl is physically ok, but mentally, she'll be scarred forever. That's some Hellsing/AoT-levels of, "This character is definitely dead."

Aaaand three panels later, Vash realizes he forgot to continue pretending to be tied up and tries to remedy the situation.

Bossman here (I mean the gang leader, not the actual character named Bostalk) was already suspicious of Vash. Now he's extra-suspicious.

Somehow, Vash revealing his identity has not made the Bossman less suspicious.

Vash, the multi-talented. He can fight and preach at the same time.

Oh, so the field of graves at the beginning isn't Vash's fault somehow. That's... good.

I mean, dear old dad might care a lot for his daughter, but he clearly stated he didn't give a shit about the lives of anyone else in the building.

Vash is disappointed in Bossman's life choices.

BTW, Vash's hair in this whole chapter just makes me think of thistle flowers.

Yes. Refusing to do so just leads to more cruelty.

Vash just let the guy shoot the man, huh?

Oh, he's not happy about it.

Ah, yes. There's the greedy sheriff I remember!

This sheriff mentioned his hired help didn't think anything of taking human lives, but it seems they're not the only ones.

Oh, no. Sheriff triggered Angry Vash.

Not really sure what happened in this panel save that Vash was at the center of a bunch of destruction. Again.

Ah, gun arm. I thought it might be gun arm. I couldn't remember.

I love the sheriff's expression here. Like, he literally has his own gun to Vash's face, and he's effing terrified.

Vash, dodging bullets again.

WTF, he shot him right in the badge. Talk about insult and injury. My boy knows what he's doing.

LOVE AND PEACE!!!

Hahahaha, everyone else just looks sooooo confused. Hopefully, they'll get it someday.

[confrontthefamiliar]

Full moon libra ECLIPSE

Know your rights or be wronged

I ended the winter with debauchery that made me fast into spring

a sudden desire for capital, law, change, to get far away

I cut myself and others with my multi-facetedness, still with so much rage

smoked a j and talked about my mother

realized she is a saint once a snow rat told me so

tried to find the words to tell her I knew but missed the mark and argued somehow

her expectation of me versus my expectation of her

I cried on my sister’s couch on the phone with my insurance agent

my mechanic asked me if i had a cold

just allergies I said

which i had been feeling as a scratch in the back of my throat but it comes and goes just like i do just like my mind does just like my mood

the allergies are gone now just like my bad back ache which came once I broke my fast

the whole time in truckee has felt like wanting to cry or I’m just really raw from my fast right now

my cousin said it makes sense that after eating you would rest.

Like in the wild after finally getting a good meal humans were meant to relax a few days

swinging swinging

i feel like I’ve reached a rung in the wheel i can recognize

Now i enter a new stratosphere of climbing

i want to plot my mind out like the mountains

i want to know every storm and where it came from and why

[semi-imaginary-place]

Trigun manga

I thought the Vash ass was a one time thing but Nightow gives us an ass shot panel like 3 times every chapter.

As someone who entered the franchise through Stampede it's interesting to see what Stampede changed (I mean besides the obvious timeline stuff). Like Stampede left out Vash getting a vent cover dropped on him while using a urinal and that whole subplot. It really is a rewrite, reminds me of the Evangelion movie series in that way, a reinterpretation of the major concepts of the series.

Vash's Stampede design better matches my sense of aesthetics. I never liked the BDSM leather harnesses and straps aesthetic but I gotta give it up for manga Vash's design, it is the most iconic and unique Vash design, it really stands out. 10,000 leather straps with a sleeveless leather harness with cutouts isn't my thing (seriously what the hell are you wearing Vash!) but it is definitly a Thing. Gotta recognize Nightow's dedication to giving Vash long shapely legs.

In stampede the Plants look like bulbs with roots or when unfurled Avatar alien plant people, in the manga there resemble living cells with amalgamated human faces and wing things and are feathery when unfurled. Trimax has stronger angel/demon imagery while Stampede sets up a stronger dichotomy between terraforming vs. Plant technology as the future of humanity. Manga plants are also giant in comparison

Milly is peak character concept. Bigg woman with a giant gun who loves her family, I'd go cafe with her and eat cake.

Oh hey Gunsmoke has pigeons.

Vash Legato telepathy?

I was wondering just how delusional vashwood shippers were. I mean shippers WILL see something when there's nothing this always happens. Wolfwood and Vash have no chemistry in Stampede season 1. Manga tho? Vash is instantly smitten when Wolfwood 3 way splits his last 3 coins with some street kids. And then they start flirting immediatly, yeah this is what chemistry looks like, "Your smile itself is a compliment", "a smile suits your face" damn.

Interesting interesting, in the manga its Vash's fleshy right arm that merges with the gun, in Stampede it's his mechanical left arm that merges with the gun. Although given Stampede is pre-July the right arm could also still happen.

I can see why people like the manga. I can also see how Stampede is playing a longer game planning farther ahead and has a more constructed narrative. The manga was always in jeopardy of being cancelled and then it was and you can see Nightow writing like every few chapters would be the last. Stampede has the advantage of knowing everything and being able to reconstruct the series while having the whole picture. I do like Meryl and Milly in the manga better than Stampede's Meryl and Roberto, but I like Stampede's Vash better than the manga's, he's cuter. In terms of story and format I like both, the more meandering episodic and the more straightforward story.

Maximum! So Knives blew Vash's angel gun again and now there's a hole on the moon and that dyed half of Vash's hair black… somehow I rather how with the artstyle you can't tell if the black is because his hair color changed or if its dramatic shading. I do think Stampede made the right call with the July incident leading to Vash's Eriks phase and 2 year gap instead of having another moon hole incident. The original 3 volume manga almost feels like a gaiden.

Wait wait. 2 year timeskip as Eriks and then we jump another 11 years!! Year 113 Meryl is 23, moon blast was on year 100. No way Meryl was 10 and a senpai insurance agent. Huh?? Between year 100 and year 113 2 years passed. Is this a translation error??

I need to go rewatch Stampede, Vash was able to keep far less secrets like Meryl and Wolfwood found out about him being a plant much earlier

[of-another-broken-heart]

I still hate this new editor.

I hate how fucking tiny the text window is. I hate the near-infinite empty space all around it.

I hate the intrusive, long icon list that shows up every time I hit Return.

Why not add it as a static element to the editor window? After hacking it down to this pitiful 300x300 size, surely, SURELY you could afford to toss a little 40 pixel banner along the bottom with those options? Surely???

Knee-jerk repeat complaints aside, I am here to document some further tragedy that is my life.

I got harassed and had my anxiety put into overdrive over the weekend by an insurance representative. Health insurance. Supposedly from the "retention" department. She kept calling and leaving voicemails. I managed to pick up a single call, which interrupted something I was actively doing, so I managed to get her to schedule me an appointment. She would call for it.

She didn't.

I spent the whole rest of that day - Friday - calling back. Being sent to her voicemail. Over. And over. And over. And over. Every fucking call. Straight to voicemail.

Obviously there was nothing over the weekend. Clearly. Obviously.

Monday came. I didn't get a call, but I did get another voicemail. Sorry, she said, for being "a little late." I returned the call. Again. Voicemail. Again.

I called the insurance main line. I tricked the automated maze sphinx with an answer - I'm calling to renew! The automated maze sphinx connected me with an actual representative. She pulled up my account.

I am not up for renewal (recertification). I am good until September of 2024.

I was relieved. I was livid.

I called the "retention" agent. Again. Voicemail. Again. I let her know that I took care of it. That I called the main line, and she could cease harassing me, as my coverage was good for an entire fucking year.

She hasn't left me any more voicemails.

But that was a 4-day long anxiety episode. Preceded, of course, by several other days of anticipatory anxiety. And insomnia.

Between the physical, mental, and emotional exhaustion, AND the weather, I had a (new!) chronic pain flare, too. No, I don't suddenly have fibro or anything like that. It's that pesky knee, so susceptible to my bad luck, and gravity. I had to use Nana's cane to get around for a while after finally finishing all my anxiety phone calls on Monday.

As it turns out, such an experience triggers my MECFS PEM, too. Unsurprisingly. I have been completely drained. Struggling to have enough energy to get myself to the bathroom, stay hydrated, eat much of anything. I lost most of Tuesday to it. Wednesday is gone and all I can really tell you is that I "woke up" at 7:30 PM and have somehow vacantly remained some detached form of conscious for 10 hours.

Ah, right. It was more anxiety. See, Tuesday also brought me, what I can only figure is, a combination trauma episode and autistic meltdown. Combined with exhaustion, and PEM, and anxiety, and frustration, and And people got to witness it! Which, of course, leads to more anxiety. And blame. Justice Sensitivity, and Rejection Sensitivity? Oh, baby, the charts are spanning to whole other universes, those bars are so big they're extra-planar. That all got cranked into hyperdrive late Wednesday. THAT is how I vacantly remained some detached form of conscious. I was dissociating!

I cried today. I cry most days. Why did I cry?

I'm still in love with someone who hasn't even said so much as "hi" to me in a full year. Hate myself for that. Wish I wasn't a broken fucked up goddamn idiot, huh. Wouldn't that be nice.

I remembered my dad. He's not dead. I just might not ever see him again. I remembered being little, and his enthusiasm and fun spirit, and his laugh, and falling asleep on his chest as a child after he returned from fishing trips, and the time he got us all shushed in a movie theater when he and mom split, and the first time I ever saw him truly cry in pain (I can't remember what the injury was any more - it was either when he cut his knee open, or when he gave himself blood poisoning while cleaning a shark jaw that came up in some nets).

I miss cooking. I miss baking. I miss having friends both willing and able to see me. I miss board games and swimming in pools and laughing while trying to barbecue in the rain. I miss feeling liked and wanted.

So I cry.

These aren't even unique days. This is just life now. This is what I was made for, I guess. To be broken and used and thrown away and forgotten, and always, ALWAYS blamed for ever, EVER suggesting otherwise, and especially so for daring to stand up for myself.

[samsspambox]

I have come to the realization that there is almost no kiki content in the fandom, so I will be dropping on the most popular tot blogs to ask. thoughts on kiki bennet? (pssps feel free not to answer if you don't want!)

heyo nonnie! jkdsnckdjn im flattered you think of me as a poplar tot blog!!!! ayo ma! i made it!

no but fr fr, kiki bennet is literally a treasure trove of potential. she's pretty, shes smart, she has hobbies, and she's single. we know so little about her that anything we write about her could be plausible! what else could you want???! i'm with you on this indignation of lack of content nonnie, kiki bennet should be written in more fics, she's so fucking interesting.

here are some of my passing thoughts of kiki bennet i've had throughout the year this game has been live:

kiki could be an nsb super secret agent

hear me out hear me out -- i've written this before and and it could make sense

back when lukepearceing was still active *does salute* we had a theory chain and in it, we thought of the idea of kiki being a type o sleeper agent for the nsb

kiki and mc met through college (re: poor una cabeza where mc said she took an acting class bc kiki said it'd be easy credits) so the timeline kinda meets up

we know that the nsb is capable of recruiting literal children t (luke was 16/17 when he went off to college) so could kiki really be any different?

we had a couple of theories as too why kiki was placed as mc's retainer, but most of them lead to mc's parents and their 'research' so someone had to watch mc (as insurance or for safety we don't know)

which brings up the dynamic of agent raven vs agent bennet (or, agent hummingbird), like they cant say they 'know each other' in front of mc

there's also the rivalry component-- who's the better agent? which could then lead to some good enemies to lovers if you play your cards right

(i do have an agent kiki fic, but it was when i first started to write and maybe i should re-write it/ give it a sequel)

kiki is a stan, maybe she can stan someone else?

listen, kiki as a marius stan would be so fucking funny hear me out--

we know that kiki follows idols online, and you know who else gets media exposure?

marius von hagen.

kiki's a good character to dig deep with marius -- with idols (or just famous people in general) you have to do your research

i think kiki would be one of the people to look through the mask marius wears

and then somehow he's her friend's client and she can get an autograph jbdcjksb (another one that could end in a ship if you play your cards right)

kiki and vincent -- the designated wingmans of the main characters who maybe also crave love and could find it in each other

WINGPEOPLE FOR THE WIN

listen i will die on this hill, this is my top ship with kiki in it

we don't know how old vincent is, but by the looks of it he cant be that old!

they could try and help their respective person get together with the other and then they could also fall in love with each other bc

vincent hypes marius up and he does it in such an earnest way and u know how

some people light up when talking about things they're very passionate and suddenly you have this moment of like 'oh, you're kinda cute' yeah that. kiki has that moment

and it would be so cute to have mc and marius get them together too after/before they got together and uGH

this ship is my guilty pleasure and i should totally write them

kiki and artem could be friends! they should be friends tbh

kiki and trek have such a funny relationship in game-- one is afraid of the other while the other is just like ???

i have written this before but kiki and artem both like movies and with kiki's influenc in the stan field they surely would have talked

i def see this as more of a platonic relationship as friends that hang out and watch shifty movies to pass time

but i can also see the potential of a ship (as with all the other things on here) since you'd have two people's opinions of each other changing the more time they spend together

i have also written a fic about it, bc who doesn't love a good office comedy?

and yeah! those are my takes on kiki! shes's such a cool character and i love her to bits. thank you for the ask nonnie!!

[chicago-geniza]

gd i don’t want to play controlled substance chicken with insurance about concerta & have to deal with skepticism from medical professionals about the etiology of all my cardiovascular issues NOT being traceable to prescription stimulants & shortages in the future when manufacturers cut production by a significant margin & what i am saying is This Fate Could Have Been Avoided / Could Still Be Avoided If My Fucking Neurologist Would Just Give Me Levodopa, Since 90% of My Most Debilitating ADHD Manifestations & Chronic Fatigue Issues Are Caused By FHM-Related Parkinsonian Symptoms Syndrome, Which I Am Treating Ad Hoc & Off-Label, Less Effectively Than It Could Be Treated, With Concerta, Because At Least It’s a Dopaminergic Agent, & Somehow My Life Has Shaken Out in Such a Way That it Was Easier To Get an ADHD Diagnosis & a Legal Meth Scrip Than a Recognized Diagnosis For My Autosomal Dominant Genetic Disease