#like imagine you die and a you from other universe just takes over your life

[screeching-bunny]

Yandere! Townspeople Harem x Lucky Reader

Warnings: Obsessive Behavior, Yandere Thoughts, Bad Writing, Stalking, Possessive Behavior, Reader is Referred as ‘You’

A/N: I have no clue what I was on when I wrote this 💀. This is also inspired by a Reddit post I saw long time ago.

🌟 Yandere! Townspeople who are absolutely enamored by you and everything that you do. They treat you as if you are some kind of entity waiting to be put on a golden pedestal and paraded around town. You are essentially the town’s golden boy/girl/person, a mascot if you can even call it that. In their eyes everything that you do is inspiring and encouraged. It also doesn’t help that you were born with this amazing power that causes you to become extremely lucky. No matter the deed, every action was thrust into the spotlight as if it were a gracious gesture for the community's well-being. Take, for instance, if you ever fatally shot someone the townsfolk would erupt in applause, discovering the individual to be a notorious mass murderer and your action saved the town.

🌟 Yandere! Townspeople who can’t help but gush over every miniscule achievement that you got. You got a perfect attendance award? They wouldn’t expect anything less from you. Did you just get a participation trophy? Well they're cheering for you as if you just won the world cup. To say their actions are embarrassing is definitely an understatement. Everytime they cheer for you, you can’t help but die a little bit on the inside.

🌟 Yandere! Townspeople who absolutely cannot fathom the idea of you moving out of their town. They would much rather skin themselves alive and commit arson than to allow you to leave them. Everywhere you go, there will always be some form of eyes on you. There will always be some type of survance of you at any time of the day. Depending on the person, the townspeople's love for you can either be platonic or romantic. Basically half of the town wants to fuck your and the other half sees you as their beloved child or grandchild.

🌟 Yandere! Townspeople who may or may not be human. Like sure they might have the occasional human sacrifices but what town doesn’t!?!? This is totally normal behavior that people exhibit. What’s that? Did you just see a tentacle coming out from that woman over there? Nahhh. You must be imagining that! What a cute and overactive imagination you have there. In all seriousness, it would literally die for you. You're just a cutie patootie to them. Your small teeth are so cute compared to their razor sharp fangs. You know, you could really use that small mouth of yours and suck on their–

🌟 Yandere! Townspeople have a monthly ritual where they gather around to brag about all of the items that they stole from you. Never in your life will you see someone so happy to own a pair of used underwear that didn’t belong to them or some used pair of socks. If you looked up a textbook definition of “down bad” then a picture of the Yandere! Townspeople would be the first images to pop up. In your presence these people act as if they had never touched grass or seen the sun before. They all seem to have some type of mutual agreement that in your presence, they would try to act somewhat normal in order to not scare/scar you too much.

—

From a young age, your luck was apparent. In school, while others struggled with exams, you breezed through them effortlessly, always managing to stumble upon the exact answers needed to excel. Teachers marveled at your natural knack for stumbling upon solutions, even in the most challenging of situations. As you grew older, the extraordinary luck only seemed to amplify. Job interviews turned into job offers within minutes, as if the universe conspired to ensure your success in every endeavor. Colleagues joked that working with you was like having a lucky charm around, as projects that seemed doomed to fail miraculously turned into resounding triumphs whenever you were involved. It might seem great and all BUT DAMN WAS THIS LIFE SO FUCKING BORING!!!! Which is why you decided to spice up your day a little and rob a bank.

“Oh hello [Reader]! Is this going to be the usual procedure?” The bank teller asks you with a smile on their face as you hold a gun to their face. “You know… the weather is perfectly nice today. It would be a perfect day for a date don’t you think–”

Suddenly a thunderous crash was heard, the police burst through the bank doors, their badges glinting under the harsh fluorescent lights. Guns drawn and voices booming commands, they swept into the lobby, faces masked with determination. Until the police chief sees you and lets out a tired sigh, “Guns down everyone, it’s just [Reader].” A faint sound of disappointed groans can be heard from the crowd of bank patrons from the back. “Why are the police here so soon, I didn’t get enough time to admire their pretty face.” another voice could be heard, “For real, their never this fast in an actual emergency. I mean they only just shot and killed one person, it's really nothing to worry about like who cares–”

—

“You are free to go [Reader], again.” the police officer states as she releases you from your handcuffs. “Turns out the man that you shot ended up being a drug dealer. You really have a special talent for catching criminals don’t you. She states as she gazes at you with loving eyes. ���You know I’m free after this shift, you think we can–”

Before she can finish her sentence you walk away with a dejected look on your face. You couldn’t believe how boring a day this turned out to be. Seriously, you wished that something exciting would happen in this town for once you think to yourself. Failing to notice a scene behind you. One that consisted of a bunch of monsters eating the souls of the innocent while on their knees for a statue that seemed to look like you. They all seem to be gripping onto something though– HEY, WAIT A MINUTE ARE THEY HOLDING YOUR UNDERWEAR!?!!?

[paper-mario-wiki]

Could you explain how Ambrosia is able to come back after dying?

1

Sure yeah, I'll give it a shot.

[Fursona Lore/ Mild Existential Horror presented in charmingly primitive MS Paint style under the cut]

2

[At the top of the panel there is the label "conceptual space (currently being created. The middle is labeled "THE UNIVERSE, REALITY (the other)". The bottom is labeled "CONSCIOUSNESS, REFLECTION (the self). The very bottom of the panel reads "OTHER, FREAKIER BUT LESS IMPORTANT STUFF" ]

To keep it brief, a person is when a certain amount of consciousness slips upwards into reality. Consciousness is, like the laws of thermo dynamics [sic], a fundamental property of the universe.

3

I'm sure you've heard of the sticking-a-pencil-through-paper metaphor for theoretical wormhole travel, right? Staying within that visual metaphor, imagine the moisture in the air around that "piece of paper" as what consciousness is. It creates tiny, imperceivable changes in the surface and makeup of the paper. Imagine a microscopic rain cloud making a tiny fraction of the paper a little bit soggy. That's what you are in the universe. A tiny soggy fraction of a massive piece of paper. (That's why you feel so small btw).

Of course, putting it into that metaphor IS greatly simplifying it, since in real life things like time and space sorta overlap, ya know? Because they're entirely separate dimensions of measurement. Consciousness is the same, it is everywhere in the universe all at once, but only after it seeps in from a place that is exactly where we are, but elsewhere. 4D stuff is complicated sorry if that's not super clear ha ha.

4

Normal people happen when a bunch of that stray potential-consciousness starts stacking more and more layers of reality on top of itself. Sort of like those pastries that you fold butter into and then fold it like 10 times and that makes it so theres like a billion layers of butter and dough and butter and dough and butter and dough and on and on and on. But with, uh. The other stuff. Consiousness and matter from the universe.

Speaking semantically, that's all the little tiny organisms that work really hard to make you alive. Like the biome in your gut, or the bacteria in your tissue and blood cells. Look it up, 43% of the human body is made of bacteria. Like, that's just on google.

Anyway, all their effort culminates in an increasingly complex meat shell that constitutes a person.

5

For the sake of practicality, we can imagine the way consciousness "seeps in" to the universe is like heat coming off the sun. The two overlapping infinite planes radiate into each other like heat radiates off the sun.

That clear? Heat from the sun. Remember that, it's important for the next part.

6

I'm sort of like a solar flare.

My consciousness, in its raw form, was so concentrated that it was like a tiny shooting star straight from the source.

Also kind of like a kidney stone, I guess.

7

Since my consciousness (which, to be clear, is approximately the same "amount" of consciouessness as anyone else, just all smooshed together into a single clump) is smooshed together into a single clump, the shell forms naturally as "reality" settles onto it. The "shape" the consciousness takes is basically the same as your body or anyone else's since the framework of both entities are the "same" on the "outside". Thus the "shells" turn out "similar" too.

Sorry for all the quotation marks, it's hard to talk about concepts outside of the third dimension in third dimensional terms, and like. I also am not super sure about this stuff either. I'm only relaying what I've learned from the scientists but some of it goes over my head.

I like to think I'm clever but like. I'm not a genius.

8

So here's the part where me and you are different: When your shell breaks apart (when you die) it's because the consciouessness had been escaping your shell, like air from a balloon, and the physical structure can't support itself anymore. Or, like, maybe you just fall over and hit your head on the concrete one day and pop the balloon all together.

Either way, the consciousness escapes from the pressure, and either goes back "down" where it came from, or goes upward into conceptual space, which is sorta being constituted through forces exerted in the physical universe. Well, I mean, really it's more of a product of a reaction between consciousness and physical space. Whatever I'm getting off topic.

The point is the shell breaks cuz the balloon pops. I think that was my point.

9

Now that you get all that, you can probably deduce on your own how and why I'm able to keep "coming back".

It's cuz I'm not really "coming back", I'm still here! The shell representing me here was just lost.

10

And while the facade may not look precisely the same every single time...

11

I remain the same.

[actuallysaiyan]

Nanami, is in fact, a panty thief. It started when he first met you at Jujutsu High, but it progressed more as you followed him to University. And it didn't stop, no...it got worse.

He's got an affinity for the dirty ones. He loves the sweet smell of your panties. He brings them up to his nose and with his other hand, he strokes his leaking cock. The thought of you just sitting on his face is what helps fuel the rest of this little fantasy of his. Kento won't stop at just one pair either. He's stolen quite a few, but he always makes sure it's within reason. He doesn't want you getting any ideas.

When he was only 18, he found himself in your dorm room alone while you showered. The thrill of being caught by you was making him even harder. His cock leaked all over the pretty lace of your soiled panties, while another one sat on his face. He kept thinking how you'd come out of the shower and find him in the most vulnerable and lewd position.

It never happened...not until you were both older and back to being sorcerers. Even after all this time, Kento still needs to steal your panties. He'd sell his soul for a whiff of your pretty little cunt. He's never ever told you how he feels, but he can live with that because he always will steal your panties.

One night, he waits for you in your apartment as you take a shower. Old habits die hard, and he's fucking his fist as he sniffs your filthy panties. The smell of your cunt is so pungent and sweet, he's drooling as he keeps the frilly little thing on his nose. Oh you could so easily find him this way. He wants you to find him, after all these years of pining. He's grunting and growling as his fist keeps sliding up and down his throbbing cock.

"KENTO!" You shriek as you enter your bedroom. Your heart is racing and you feel a deep need boiling in your belly from the scene unfolding in front of you. He smirks at you from his position on the bed.

You aren't even sure how to respond, but he motions for you to come closer. You have to see where this goes. You climb onto the bed, your mouth watering at the sight of his thick cock. It's bigger than you've ever imagined it to be. He loves the way your eyes have grown dark with lust.

"Sit on my face," he begs. "Please baby. 'Need to taste you so bad."

You're in shock, but your lust for him makes your body move on its own. You drop your towel and you pull the panties away from him and toss them away. Your cunt sits right where he needs it, and without another thought, he begins lapping at you like this life depends on it.

Finally... He has you right where he needs you. And he has no intention of letting you go.

[mcflymemes]

AS SAID BY JASON TODD/ROBIN/RED HOOD *  assorted dialogue from multiple dc universe sources, adjust as necessary

i did it once for dramatic effect and it just got to be a habit.

you can't tell, but i'm dozing off under this mask.

a whole night in paris... and i managed to not kill anyone. not bad.

you made the same mistake everyone does when it comes to me.

i want to warn them... but i know i can't.

don't know, don't care. i got my hands full.

do you remember the last time we were together?

looks like you guys could use a hand!

i'm looking for someone.

i'm afraid it's about to get much worse.

the angry, reckless vigilante bit is my thing.

i'm not good or bad. i'm just practical as hell.

you and i are more alike than you realize.

i get it. starting over is scary as hell.

i don't even need to turn around to know that's you.

thanks for thinking of me. i'm happy to help. honored, even.

i generally have several madness-inducing hallucinations before breakfast.

nothing in the real world can be as frightening as what we can imagine... right?

you don't think i understand what it's like to be abandoned? forgotten?

i'll be damed if my best friend is going to die... because he was dumb enough to trust me.

i'm sorry. i'm never going to be the hero you want me to be.

next time i see you, i'm going to kick your butt for this dying crap.

you have ten seconds to walk way. nine... oh, screw it.

there are better ways to spend your energy.

that looks like it's gotta hurt. well, i say that like i'm speculating or something. i know it hurts.

we chose to be a family.

if there's hope for us... there's hope for everyone.

you still haven't figured it out?

life's just a game... and this time, you lose.

i seem to have made myself an enemy of all the bad guys.

it's too late. you had your chance.

i'm just getting started.

hard to forget that night, huh?

in a way, this was the site of your first great failure.

ah... memories.

you can't stop crime. that's what you never understood.

you want to rule them by fear, but what do you do to those who aren't afraid?

i'm doing what you won't.

i'm taking them out.

now tell me... how does it feel?

is that what you think this is about?

i don't know what clouds your judgement worse. your guilt or your antiquated sense of morality.

i forgive you for not saving me.

he took me away from you.

i am no one's son.

what do you think this was all about?

welcome to planet earth, baby.

fear isn't the answer.

you son of a bitch.

we were friends, helping each other pick up the pieces of our lives.

it might not be a popular thought, but not everyone wants to be alive.

can you hear it?

funny, i actually escaped death.

the past keeps dragging me back.

they're not monsters. they're victims of programming, abuse, and trauma.

they can change.

fact is, they're just like us.

we became something else.

you hurt a lot of people.

we don't discriminate here.

sometimes you don't know what you want 'til you learn what you don't.

trust? you? i'll give it a try. but i'll tell you right now, i'm probably going to screw it up.

guys like us? the life we lead? we're never truly alone.

i have no idea who you people are.

you pompous ass.

before i kill you, i want the truth.

i'd like to think i'm an open-minded guy.

sure it was fun. but does that mean it was right?

sometimes i wonder if i'm just part of the problem.

i'm not doing one more damn mission with them unless you get me someone i can trust to watch my back.

knew you couldn't do it.

it's official. class is in session.

[thatsmzbitchtoyou]

The Naughty Nanny Chapter 1

Summary:  Bucky had a lovechild from a one night stand.  He barely even remembered it, and was surprised to find a baby on his doorstep 9 months later.  But one look at that little girl and he knew she was his and that he’d die for her.  The only problem was, he knew nothing about babies, and being an Avenger meant he couldn’t just drop everything and be a dad full time.  Then he found the perfect nanny…or so he thought.

**In this universe Steve never left, Tony never died.** **curvy reader** Warnings: talk of sexual harassment, unwanted/non-consensual touching/sexual assault, eventual smut

Next chapter

“Please go to sleep,” Bucky begged quietly as the baby wailed in her crib.  He rubbed his face roughly, his eyes burning from lack of sleep.  He felt a wave of emotion through him and started crying, which surprised him.  He had gone through years of torture, being put on ice, memories wiped, the worst things imaginable done to him and forced on him to do to others, sleep deprivation worse than this and yet here he was crying over a crying baby.

He’d never had a lot of experience with babies.  He had sisters back then, but his mother had always been the one to take care of them as infants.  None of the other Avengers brought their kids around to headquarters.  This baby was unknown to him until four weeks ago.  

“Hey Bucky, uh…you’re needed in the lobby,” Sam’s voice rang through Friday’s intercom.

“Okay,” Bucky answered back up to the ceiling, then headed down to the front of the building.  When he approached the front desk a small group was forming around something on the floor.  “What’s going on?” he asked as he walked up to Sam.

Sam gave him a worried look then pointed to the floor.  It was a baby in a carrier, fast asleep, covered in a blanket, a diaper bag and a box of things next to it.  Steve was holding a note in one hand and reading it over and over again, the other hand holding a small stack of papers.

“Oh cute, whose baby?” Bucky said, smiling softly.  Everyone in the room looked at him uneasily.  

“It’s um…it’s yours,” Steve said hesitantly, handing him the note.

“What?  That’s–” Bucky scoffed then read the note.  It was scribbled hurriedly and he read it slowly.

‘James Barnes,

You won’t remember me but we had a one night stand a few months ago.  I didn’t realize I was pregnant till it was too late to have an abortion.  I’m not cut out for motherhood, and won’t be able to give her the life she deserves.  You’re an Avenger, so I’m guessing you’ve got money or options to make sure she’ll get a fair shot.  I haven’t named her, and I’ve signed away my rights.  She was born March 10.  I’m sorry to drop this on you.

Good luck.’

Bucky stared at the note.  He really couldn’t remember most of the one night stands he’d had.  They had usually been drunken encounters after too much Asguardian mead at one of Tony’s many parties.  “I…I don’t...”

“We should take a DNA sample, make sure it’s actually his,” Tony piped up.

“Oh please, Tony, just look at her.  She looks just like him,” Pepper smacked his arm.  “Let’s get her checked out by a doctor and then we’ll go from there.”

Steve stepped up to Bucky.  “Buck?”  He clapped his shoulder, bringing him back to the present.  “What do you want to do?”

Bucky eyed the papers in Steve’s hand, seeing the “Termination of Parental Rights” in bold at the top of the packet.  His ears were ringing, his eyes wide as he fought off a panic attack.  He looked at the baby again.  She did look like him, a tuft of dark brown hair atop her head and his lips and dimpled chin.  He stepped toward her and knelt down.  He reached forward a finger and softly stroked her cheek.  It made her stir a little and her eyes opened a little, flashing the same blue color of his eyes.  She even shared his birthday.  He smiled.  “My baby,” he mumbled.

Bucky decided to name her Winnie, after his mother.  The entire Avengers team had jumped into action that day, Tony and Pepper calling multiple people and getting baby items delivered to the compound, Bruce coming to take a DNA sample and do a preliminary check up on her until a pediatrician could come do a thorough examination, Steve and Sam standing with him as he held her and stared at her, giving him advice and trying to talk through what to do next.

As time went by he learned a lot.  Tony brought in a few people to teach him parenting skills and how to feed her, change her, bathe her, what different cries could mean, and so much more that it made his head swim.  He’d gotten the hang of it for the most part, getting into a routine with her, but on a night like tonight where the team was gone on a mission, with no one to help him, and it didn’t seem to matter what he did she just would not stop crying, he felt overwhelmed.  Bucky didn’t know how parents did this, let alone with multiple children.  He picked her up from the crib and cradled her against his chest, patting her back firmly but gently as his body bounced to try to soothe her again.  She continued crying but it died down a little at having him close.

“Please, Winnie, I can’t…I don’t know what I’m doing,” he whispered and shushed her.  He quickly wiped his tears, but they kept coming as her head thrashed against his sternum, like she wanted to burrow into him.  He carried her to the front room of his apartment suite in the compound then to the kitchen, grabbing another bottle and warming it in the microwave.  The movement seemed to help calm her a little until she was sniffling, whimpering and only occasionally letting out a little wail.  He made sure the formula wasn’t too hot then sat on the large sectional couch and leaned back against the pillow.  Before she could start crying from the loss of movement he stuck the bottle in her mouth and she immediately started eating, her wet eyes blinking up at him as she drew in a shaky breath.

“There you go,” Bucky breathed.  “See, all that fussing for nothing.  You stinker,” he smiled as he sniffed and wiped his tears again.  He snuggled her against him as he tried to even out his breathing.  She was so tiny against his large frame that it made him smile wider.  He hoped this would be enough to get her to sleep for longer than 45 minutes this time.  He stared up at the ceiling then got an idea.

“Friday?”

“Yes Sergeant Barnes?”

“I need interviews with potential nannies,” Bucky said, looking back down at Winnie.  “Specifically for live-in, night nannies.”

“I’ll compile a list and reach out for preliminary interviews.  Any specific qualifications that you would like to have listed?”

“No, just someone who knows what they’re doing,” Bucky sighed, his eyes getting heavier.

“Yes sir.”

“Thank you,” he yawned as Winnie finished the bottle.  He burped her, thanking whatever higher being there was in the universe for her milk-drunk expression as she drifted back to sleep, joining her shortly after.

**Once again, thank the AI/Photoshop gods for this perfect picture of Bucky found on Pinterest.**

@angelbabyyy99 @capswife @julvrs @bellabarnes1378 @mostlymarvelgirl @mega-kittyglitter-1 @buckitostan @drdbnkl2008 @wintrsoldrluvr @danzer8705

[theheartbreakprincesss]

red lips and rosy cheeks, a criminal minds imagine

pairings: fem!reader x bau!team (platonically of course) and fem!reader x spencer reid (if you squint a little)

word count: 800ish

warnings: none i think. no use of y/n because i don’t really vibe with that. no angst, a little fluff, maybe? it’s mostly just funny i think. also not beta-read, or like we say in ao3, no beta we die like men.

author’s note: i have been binge-watching criminal minds for a couple weeks now and of course i’m obsessed with it, and this visual of spencer becoming a little flustered over seeing his crush all dressed up popped into my mind. it’s my first time writing an imagine with the reader as the main piece in the story, so idk be gentle with me? i also never wrote for criminal minds and i’m only in season 4. i just wrote this instead of sleeping or actually writing my other fics. sorry if this is terrible anyway. i’m open to feedback! thanks for reading <3

Working for the FBI could be a handful, sometimes, but the job had its benefits. You could catch criminals and help people, make a difference, you know? But something you would never expect to count as a benefit was the possibility of being called in the middle of a date.

You didn’t even want to go on that date, but your long-time friend Emma had insisted she knew a guy that would be perfect for you. Emma knew you since you both were undergraduates working on their degrees, so you had figured it wouldn’t hurt to give the guy a chance.

It wasn’t your best moment.

Not that the guy turned out to be a psychopath or something like that. But the ice of your drink had barely started to melt when it became clear that Sean wasn’t the guy for you, and by the end of your martini, you could see that Sean was too self-centered and trying too hard to be something he was not, with the fake watch and the well-pressed but clearly cheap suit and exaggerated tales of his life. An hour into the date and you were begging to the universe to offer you a way out of that bar.

Thankfully the universe seemed to listen to your plea, and you let out a relieved sigh when you saw Garcia’s name on the screen as the phone rang. Apparently, Hotch wanted everyone at the office right that moment.

That hurry was what prompted you to go into the BAU headquarters straight from your date, thinking that a stop by your apartment to change would take too much time and that you could take the clothes out of your go bag and change out of your outfit once you got there.

“Hey there.” you greeted as you walked into the bullpen. “Is everyone here yet?”

“Rossi and Prentiss are on their way.” Morgan said from his desk. “Wonder boy is getting coffee.”

“Oh, okay.” you mumbled, moving to take off your coat and wondering if you would have time to wipe off the red lipstick before the briefing.

“Damn, pretty girl.” you heard Morgan say, that suggestive tone in his voice that annoyed the life out of you. “Did we interrupt something?”

“Only the most boring date I have ever been on.” you scoffed, nervously fixing your dress. It wasn’t inappropriate or something, just very different from what you used to wear. It had been Emma’s idea, actually, to pair that black sleeveless dress with knee-high boots. “He spent the entire time talking about himself.” you rolled your eyes.

“Oh, look at you!” Garcia exclaimed as she got into the bullpen. “You look like a million bucks, darling.”

“Thank you, Pen.” you said. “What’s the case about?”

“A woman went missing in Indiana this morning in the same way three more disappeared in the last month before they were found dead.” JJ told, walking out of her office. “Oh, hot date tonight?” she asked.

“Disappointing, actually.” you laughed. “Can we not talk about it?”

“Talk about what?” you heard Spencer’s voice from behind Penelope.

��About her date.” Garcia said. Spencer joined them as they all stood near your desk, two coffee mugs in his hands. His messy hair was the first thing you noticed, looking like he had been dragged out of his bed. He handed you the second coffee mug, the one with little cartoon kittens stamped on it, then his eyes really focused on you.

“Oh, thank you.” you mumbled, taking a sip of it.

“I– yeah, I…” he stammered, eyes moving up and down, up and down.

“Are you alright, Doc?” you asked, using the nickname you had given him a few weeks into working together.

“Ooh, I think you broke pretty boy.” Morgan laughed.

“It’s probably the red lipstick.” Garcia pointed out, joining Derek in his laughs. You waited for one of Spencer’s famous info-dumps, where he would talk about how red lipstick used to be made out of crushed beetles in Ancient Egypt or something, but he was still silent, lips parted like he meant to say something but couldn’t figure out what.

“Do you need me to reset you or something?” you were now having a bit of fun with it. It wasn’t like you were trying to be mean, but both of you had been dancing around unspoken feelings for a while now.

“I… you look pretty.” Spencer finally managed to say.

You put the mug to your lips, trying to hide the blood that was rushing to your cheeks as Morgan whistled.

“Go on, wonder boy.”

“Derek? Shut up.” then, you looked at Spencer again, who was timidly smiling at you.“Thanks.” you mumbled.

Spencer looked at the mug on your hands, focusing on the stain of your lipstick on the rim of the mug.

“Uh, did you know that the first known red lipsticks were created by crushing gemstones in Mesopotamia over 5.000 years ago?”

•

[blakeswritingimagines]

Dear Y/N

My dearest darling,

my heart flutters at the very thought of you. You are like a drug that has taken over my mind, body, and soul. I cannot stand to be apart from you, even for a moment. The very thought of you with someone else makes me want to vomit. You are mine, and mine alone. If I cannot have you, then no one can. I dream about you day and night, my darling. You are the last thing on my mind when I sleep, and you are the first thing I think of in the morning. The mere thought of you makes my heart skip a beat. I can't go a moment without thinking about you, and I dream of holding you in my arms forever.

Your smile is like the sun, my darling, and your laugh is like music to my ears. I would do anything, and I mean anything, to make you mine. I would kill for you, I would die for you, and I would sacrifice everything and everyone for you. I know I may seem obsessive, but I just can't help it. You are everything to me. You are like a drug to me, my love. I'm completely addicted to you. You have consumed my mind and body, and I'm powerless to resist you. I can't help but think about you all the time, everywhere I go. The thought of you with someone else drives me absolutely insane. I would do anything to keep you all to myself. You're mine. Your scent is intoxicating and addictive. I find myself wanting to be closer to you always just so I can smell the sweet perfume that I know belongs to you. I want to hold you close and bury my face in your hair, just to feel the way your body feels against mine.

I watch over you at all times, my precious darling. I know where you are at all times, and I keep a watchful eye on you. I would do anything for you, to keep you happy and safe. I would kill for you, my love. If anyone threatens your safety, just say the word and I will destroy them. My feelings for you are beyond intense. Every fiber of my being aches to be with you. I want to touch you, hold you, and make you mine. Your body is like a work of art, and I would do anything to possess you. I want to feel your skin against mine, and I want to know every inch of your body. I am obsessed with every little thing about you. I love the way you look, and the way you talk. I can tell when you're feeling even the slightest bit of sadness, and I want to fix it. I want to take all of your pain away. You are my everything. You are the air I breathe, the food I eat. You are my world, my darling.

I can't stand the thought of you with any other man. The very idea of it makes my blood boil. You are mine and mine alone, my darling. If anyone tries to take you away from me, I will not hesitate to put them six feet underground. I don't care who it is, no one will keep us apart. You are my obsession, my love, my everything. And I will stop at nothing to keep you by my side. I know everything about you, my darling. I know your fears, your desires, your dreams. I know every curve and freckle on your body. I know your favorite food, the music you listen to, the movies you watch. I know everything about you, and I love every part of what makes you who you are. I'm hopelessly obsessed with you, and I'd be lost without you. I think about what it would be like to spend the rest of my life with you. I picture us in a cozy apartment together, waking up next to you in bed every morning. I imagine us going on dates, watching movies, and cooking together. I imagine us growing old together, with grey hair and all, but every bit as in love as the first day we met. I can't imagine a life without you, my love, because you are my world.

I would give up everything for you, my love. My friends, my family, my life. You are the only thing that matters to me. If you were to ask me to jump off a cliff, I would do it without question, just to please you. You are the center of my universe, the sun that my world revolves around. I would do anything to make you happy, to see your beautiful smile. I'm always thinking about you, my love. My mind is constantly consumed by you, and there's nothing I can do to change it. I dream about our future together, how we'll live, where we'll go, when we'll get married. When I close my eyes, I see your face, your smile, your eyes. I hear your laugh, and I imagine myself holding you in my arms. You consume my every thought, my darling. I know it's unhealthy, my love, but I can't help myself. I'm addicted to you. Just the sound of your voice makes me shiver, and the sight of your face causes me to lose my breath. I ache to touch you, to hold you, to feel your skin against mine. You drive me absolutely insane, darling. And I love it.

I fantasize about you all the time, darling. I imagine what it would be like to be with you, to hold you in my arms, to feel your touch against my body. Just the thought of it drives me insane, and I ache with desire for you. My heart skips a beat just thinking about it. You are the only thing that matters in my world, darling. Everyone and everything else is meaningless without you. I am completely and utterly at your mercy, and I wouldn't want it any other way. I am completely and utterly devoted to you, and I'll do anything to make you happy. My entire purpose is to make you smile, to make you laugh, to make you feel loved. You are my world, my darling. I long for your touch, darling. I crave the feel of your skin, your hair, your lips. I long to feel your body against mine, to run my fingers through your hair, to kiss you until we're both dizzy. I dream about holding you in my arms, feeling your heart beat against mine. The sheer thought of you drives me insane, my love.

I can't concentrate on anything else, darling. You fill my thoughts, my dreams, my every moment. I find myself constantly checking my phone for your messages, and my heart leaps when I see your name pop up. I long for your attention, my love. Without you, I'm lost. You are my anchor, my guiding light, my everything. I need you, darling. I need to hear your voice, to hear you say my name. I need to see your smile, to feel your touch. I need you, as much as I need air to breathe, food to eat, and water to drink. I'm addicted to you, my darling. I need you like a drug, like a lifeline. Without you, I'm nothing. You are my reason for being, my purpose in life. Nothing else matters but you. You are my world, my darling. You are all I think about, all I dream about. I can't eat, I can't sleep, I can't concentrate on anything except you. I'm completely and utterly obsessed with you, my love. I can't get you out of my head, no matter how hard I try. You consume me, and I love it. I'm hopelessly devoted to you, my darling, and I'll do anything to make you happy.

In conclusion, my dearest darling, I am completely and utterly smitten by you. You are everything to me. I live for you, I breathe for you, I dream about you. You are my world, my purpose, my everything. Without you, I am lost. I am yours, body and soul. I love you more than words can say, and I hope that one day you'll feel the same for me.

Yours eternally, your devoted Jason.

[mariacrow]

How about a (bayverse)transformers x reader that is from our universe? Like we somehow got into the movies which means we know everything, who dies,when they die, who to trust ect. so that would mean that we can save bots that are going to get killed yk?(jazz my baby🥺🥺) okay so if you have no clue how to write it, you dont have to!!!

I totally get you! It’s like an AU I have myself :) My brain simply CANNOT comprehend that they’re dead. What if, to add a little more spice, we’re actually a Witwicky or better yet Sam’s sibling! I’ll leave that to your imagination ;) and I know exactly how to write this piece ;)

AU where Jazz, Ironhide and Ratchet are saved by Y/N!

2nd person

female reader

takes place in Transformers (2007)

takes place in Transformers: Dark of the Moon (2011)

takes place in Transformers: Age of Extinction (2014)

battle, injuries, reassurance, swearing, flirting…

JAZZ lives!

“YOU WANT A PIECE OF ME!? YOU WANT A PIECE!?” blasting Megatron’s legs, Jazz was angrily shouting while you were watching, standing on top the same building Megatron was on along with Jazz in his claws.

“No! I want two!” Megatron yelled angrily.

“Hey! Hey big guy! Megs!” you yelled as loudly as you could so Megatron could hear you. Your plan was to distract him. “Megatron!!!”

Just when he was about to rip Jazz in two pieces, he turned around because he heard you. Jazz took that opportunity immediately and blasted him in the face. Megatron groaned in pain and irritation as his grip on Jazz went loose.

“You ain’t that smart after all, you pile of rust!” Jazz mocked him as he got out of his grasp and jumped towards you.

Megatron quickly turned around and aimed at you both while groaning in indescribable anger. Jazz grabbed you and jumped off the building while Megatron was trying to blast you both.

“Hold on tight, baby girl!” not the best time for flirting.

Jazz transformed into his BMW and secured you in the driver’s seat with a seatbelt, driving down the building, vertically.

“WOOOAH! JAZZ WATCH OOOUT!”

Inching from the ground, he partially transformed to safely push himself onto the ground. He did scratch his bumper though.

“Aw man! Not the bumper!”

He was speeding through the streets, drifting and sliding like the pro he is. You could barely comprehend what just happened.

“Quite of a bumpy ride, huh~?” he said kinda seductively.

“Jazz, you’re insane.” you said, chuckling.

“You saved my life out there, kid, you know that?”

“Hey, what are friends for?”

“Yeah.” he chuckled, “ “Friends~” “

🩶

IRONHIDE lives!

“For the sake of our survival, a deal had to be made… With Megatron.” Sentinel said as he repeated his gun.

Your eyes widened. Your heart skipped a beat as a heavy wave of adrenaline struck your body. The gun you were holding felt heavier than ever.

“IRONHIDE, WATCH OUT!!!” you shouted and started shooting at Sentinel’s face, aiming for his optics. You made him groan as his aim on Ironhide became wonky.

Ironhide turned around in time and got his weapons out. Sentinel managed to blast his arm off. It made Ironhide groan and lose balance, falling onto his knee as he was trying to shoot Sentinel with his other arm but the pain was keeping him away from being precise.

“NOOO!” you panicked because of Ironhide, seeing he’s badly injured.

“TRAITOROUS PUNK!” Ironhide cussed.

“GET BACK!!!” Lennox yelled.

Bumblebee reacted quickly, the fight was on. Sentinel managed to blast the base, sparkles and heat were all over the place, you could barely see anything. The sharp pieces of metal were flying everywhere which got you injured. Your arm was badly hurt which made you drop your gun and yelp.

Suddenly you could feel a huge, strong metal hand grab you and pull you back. Clinking of Ironhide’s transformation surrounded you and you soon found yourself inside of the black RAM.

He floored it along with Bee. You could hear him groan. His turning was wonky, he was barely driving.

“We need to find Ratchet, ASAP!”

“I don’t need no medic!” you could hear pain in his voice.

“Ironhide, it is not the time for your stubbornness! Please! That grandpa blasted your whole arm off!”

He angrily drifted into an alley and transformed back. You flew out and hit the ground as he slid down the wall, sitting down, holding his leaking shoulder.

You bravely got up and climbed on his leg, taking a better look at him.

“Ironhide, please…” you looked at him with pleading eyes, “This is serious and I don’t know how to fix it…”

Seeing you almost cry because of him made his spark ache. The fact you worry so much about him made it even harder for him to suppress his feelings…

“Fine… Call Ratchet…” he huffed, his ego kinda hurting.

And so you did. He was on his way. You were praying he arrives safely.

Ironhide picked you up and placed you on his other shoulder, gently keeping his servo around you. You smiled and leaned against his helm, giving him a hug. Funny how you both got your left arms injured. Twins!!!

“It’s gonna be alright… I promise…”

“Well I ain’t dying yet.” he chuckled through the pain, “I didn’t even get to take you out.”

He made you chuckle, “Well then. What are you doing tomorrow?”

You both had a good laugh as Ratchet’s sirens were approaching.

Ironhide was saved.

🩶

RATCHET lives!

Ratchet and you were hiding on that abandoned boat for a long time. It was quite difficult for survival but you had him and he had you. He has great survival skills, he taught you a lot.

The night they went hunting for you both almost meant the end. Thankfully you were there with him to react on time. You weren’t sleeping, you were guarding the hiding spot.

It was a peaceful night with a clear sky. You furrowed you eyebrows once the silence was ruined by helicopters in the distance. They were getting closer, you saw them as well as bunch of cars on the dirt road. Your eyes widened as you ran to Ratchet.

“Ratchet! Ratchet, wake up! We need to go, now! They’re coming for us!!”

“Are you sure, Y/N?”

“Yes! I saw them in the distance! Come on, hurry!” you said while quickly packing everything you had, picking up your bag and running out with him. He had a bad feeling about this but he trusted you nonetheless.

The boat got blasted from far away, you didn’t even see who did it. All you knew is that it made you jump off the boat. Ratchet grabbed you mid air and transformed into the ambulance vehicle. You found yourself tumbling inside as he got onto the ground and floored it.

Someone kept blasting you from far away. It was Lockdown tracking you but you had no clue.

“Someone is tracking us! We need to lose them!”

“I know where to go. I suggest you hold on tight! Safety first!” he’s so wholesome.

Suddenly, Ratchet’s tire got blasted. Both of you almost went flying.

“Primus!” Ratchet exclaimed and groaned.

“WOAH!” you bounced inside, securing yourself with a seatbelt, “Your tire is gone!”

Nevertheless, he kept driving with no back tire. You kept being chased by enormously strong blasts until you lost whoever was trying to kill you.

“Whatever was trying to kill us… it isn’t human. I don’t think we have such artillery… and it wasn’t coming from the sky for sure.”

“Humans have made an alliance with the Deceptacons. They won’t stop until they butcher us all!” he said with emotional pain in his voice while driving deep into the countryside, going for an abandoned junkyard.

You sat there, resting. Ratchet seemed hopeless until he spoke.

“Optimus will come back. I know he will. All of this isn’t for nothing…”

You looked up at him and smiled, standing up.

“I’ll go find a spare tire.”

You made him smile, “Thank you. You’re a sweetheart…”

That night you saved the medic’s life without even knowing how butchered he could’ve been by Savoy, Lockdown and KSI…

Dividers belong to @saradika 🩶

[cinnajun]

ᵕ̈ ೫˚∗: one day only | zh

summary | your friends make a bet that you and your boyfriend can’t spend one day without talking to or seeing each other, which both you and your boyfriend are convinced is untrue. so, you give it a shot—you just don’t consider whether or not the universe agrees with you, too.

genre | zhang hao x reader, established realtionship, fluff, short and sweet

wc | 1.3k

a/n: zhang hao heart eyes giggle giggle heart

USUALLY, WHEN IT’S COLD OUTSIDE, you hold your boyfriend’s hand to keep your hands warm. Today, however, it’s cold, wet, and you’re boyfriendless, which was three negatives with not a single positive to balance them out.

You shuffle through the streets of Seoul with what you could only assume was a negative look on your face, staring into the windows of shops and cafes wondering what you could do to entertain yourself. As much as you didn’t want to, the thought of “If my boyfriend was here” popped into your head every twenty seconds, which only proved your friends right.

About a week ago, Matthew jokingly said that you and your boyfriend, Hao, would die should you be forced to spend a day apart from each other, which had sparked a heated debate within your friend group until today, which was the fated quote-unquote “trial.” At midnight today, they had you block Hao and sleep at your parents’ house, and thus the clock started—you were not to see Zhang Hao until 12:01 am.

Part of you wanted to break it off, mostly because you were cold and wanted to go home, but you had a point to prove, and about 5 people and $100 counting on you not seeing Hao until tomorrow. And, you’d made a big deal about how you were going to take yourself on a date and have the time of your life, which was not going as planned.

Meanwhile, Hao, who supposedly hadn’t taken a stance (which was a lie, because, when Matthew originally sent the text, he agreed, which offended you) was likely living his day like he usually would—practicing the violin, cooking an extravagant lunch, taking a nap at 2.

With a somber sigh, you wandered into a trinket store with no goal other than escaping from the cold outside. It was big and filled to the brim with glass cases housing jewelry, glass figurines, and anything else that felt worth obscuring from people prone to breaking things.

Without thinking, you stumbled over to the kids’ area. It was somewhat like a mini toy store, with Lego sets lining the walls and action figures sitting in plastic cases. To your right, there was a small basket with the label “pre-loved stuffies,” which you thought was adorable. You also thought that Hao would love it, which made you want to start crying.

You walked over to it, picking up the teddy bear on the very top of the pile. You nearly scoffed at it, staring at it with malice in your eyes. In the teddy bear’s hand was a small violin, misshapen and squishy, but still recognizable.

“They made him into a teddy bear,” you whispered to yourself, almost laughing. Well, now you had to get it for him, you reasoned, immediately beelining for the cashier. She greeted you with a smile, taking the bear from your hands and scanning the barcode that they’d haphazardly placed on the back of the violin.

“We actually just received this one today,” she hummed, bringing out a light pink paper bag to put the bear in. “From a little boy who said he was too grown up for it. It was very sweet.”

“Awe,” you smiled, trying to imagine a little boy marching in with a bag of stuffed animals and insisting that he was too old for a teddy bear. “How old was he, do you think?”

“Eight or nine, maybe? He was sweet,” she replied. You tapped your card against the card reader, shoving it back into your wallet as quickly as you could. The cashier handed you the bag, saying, “Thank you!”

“Yeah, of course,” you replied, turning to leave the shop with your new present in hand. With more resolve, you decided you were going to give up the challenge—this was stupid, and you didn’t need to be forced away from your boyfriend for 24 hours to prove a point. You knew that you could last a day without him if need be, and you didn’t need to test the theory for anyone.

The moment you were back on the sidewalk, you took out your phone, marching towards the train station. You would admit it, with pride—you loved your boyfriend and didn’t like being away from him. That didn’t mean you were incapable of being away from him for a while, so you would tell your friends that, and you would deal with the ridicule until they found a new thing to pick on.

So, you pulled up Hao’s contact on your phone, getting ready to press the unblock button, when you walked straight into someone’s back. You gasped, taking a step back and exclaiming “I’m so sorry!”

And then, you hear a familiar voice say, “No way.”

You looked up, jaw dropped as you stared at none other than Zhang Hao and Sung Hanbin, standing side by side, right in front of you. For a moment, the three of you just stared at one another in complete silence, like you were seeing each other for the first time in decades.

“No fucking way,” Hanbin repeated, finally breaking the silence. “There’s no way. Like, no way.”

“Apparently, there’s a way,” Hao replied, staring down at you with a pretty smile. You practically swooned, resisting the urge to engulf him in a hug and tell him how much you missed him. “How’s your day been, honey?”

“Fine,” you replied nonchalantly, watching as Hanbin typed furiously on his phone. “I got you a gift.”

“You did?”

You held out the bag, and Hao raised an eyebrow, taking it from you. He pulled out the teddy bear, staring at it with an incredulous look on his face. “You found a violin-holding teddy bear? Just out in the open?”

“It was on the top of a ‘pre-loved stuffies’ bin at a little shop down the way,” you replied, suppressing your smile. “And, get this, they got it today. Some kid dropped it off mere hours ago, and then I happened to show up on my no-Zhang-Hao-allowed day.”

Hao turned to Hanbin, and you felt your phone starting to blow up in your pocket, meaning Hanbin had successfully let the group know that you ran into him, unplanned, out on the open streets of Seoul, a good hour away from your apartment. “Does this mean we lose?”

“I don’t even know,” Hanbin replied, exasperated. “I—what are the odds of this? You couldn’t have even planned it. We’ve been together since last night.”

“I guess it was just fate,” you shrugged, crossing your arms. “And, for your information, I can easily spend a day without Hao.”

“Aw,” Hao said, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. You finally felt warm again, and you felt a little embarrassed that this was happening. “Well, for your information, I’ve been complaining about missing you from the moment you left.”

“He has,” Hanbin agreed, holding up his phone. “Let me take a picture, ‘kay? I need to send it to everyone.”

You gave the camera a thumbs up, finally giving in and smiling (not for the picture, but at the fact that you were reunited with your beloved boyfriend). Hao, in the most Hao way possible, leaned his head on yours, also holding up his thumb.

“You and I were fate,” he chuckled, and Hanbin snapped a picture, memorializing this moment into history.

thank you for reading !

[redocity]

Can you do one based on work song by hozier.

Like the episode after he is struck by lightning, and he would do anything to get back to her (the reader) 😭

COMATOSE - E.BUCKLEY

after he’d been hit by lighting, buck had been rendered comatose, and he’s just as eager to wake up and see you again as you are for him to be okay.

WARNINGS: massive spoilers for 06X11, happy ending, established relationship

evan buckley x fem!reader II angst Il 4.6k Il requests open!

a/n: eddie doesn’t deserve to be separated from christopher in any universe so i wrote them back in-

₊ ⊹ masterlist!!

First it was Daniel.

Then he found out Maddie was still with Doug and hadn’t even met Chimney.

Then it was finding out that Bobby had died.

You were his last shot.

God how he wanted to see you right now. He felt like his whole world had been flipped upside-down, and it had in a way. He was sure of his theory, that this was some alternate reality induced by the lightning strike. That he had to be in a coma. That was the only reasonable explanation for all of this.

The first course of action was to ask Chimney and Hen about you. He had no direct impact in you joining the 118, so you had to still be there right? Your job was your life, and even in a place like this that shouldn’t have changed. You were independently driven, and he just hoped that meant that you weren’t different.

“Oh right,” Hen snapped her fingers at Buck’s description of you. “She went into early retirement to look after the kids,”

“Sad to see her go honestly, she was great,” Chimney nodded along to Hen’s assessment, crossing his arms. “I miss her cooking sometimes,”

“You say that like she’s dead,” Hen rolled her eyes, hitting Chimney’s bicep with the back of her hand. “We see her all the time,”

“Yeah but that’s not the same as coming off a call and having the mastery that is her lasagna waiting in the oven for me to devour the minute we sit down,” Chimney sighs at the thought, his shoulders dropping as he imagines it. “Now we get it maybe once a month if we’re lucky,”

“Wait stop-” Buck holds his hand up to stop the two’s conversation, pushing himself from the dining chair he was sat in at Chimney’s table to stand with a furrowed expression. “Kids?”

You weren’t just not in the 118, you had kids here? Kids plural. Not even just one.

“Yeah,” Hen gives him a short nod with a raised eyebrow, like Buck’s confusion was the weird thing and not you having multiple kids with somebody who wasn’t him. “Chistopher and Nicolas,”

“Well, if we’re being semantic here, Christopher isn’t technically her kid,” Chimney gestures outward with his hands as he corrects Hen’s explanation.

“Oh please she may as well be,” Hen rolls her eyes with a scoff. “He calls her mom doesn’t he?”

“Still, biologically-”

”Guys.” Buck stops the two again, holding up both of his hands this time. “Christopher like Eddie’s Christopher?” There was absolutely no way.

“Yeah,” Chimney nods enthusiastically like Buck had just suggested a good answer for a general knowledge quiz. “They’re not married wherever you come from?”

“They’re married?” Buck swears he’s going to die all over again.

“I’ll take that as a no-”

Buck sat back down on the pulled out chair with his elbows on the table and his head in his hands.

You got married and had a child with his best friend?

This definitely wasn’t where he was supposed to be. Not where you were supposed to be.

You were supposed to be his, he was supposed to be yours. God you’d been through so much together, you’d pledged yourselves to each other. He had a ring waiting for you in his apartment.

You weren’t supposed to be married to anyone else. It was just wrong.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

“Hey,” There’s a gentle hand placed on your shoulder, and you reluctantly tear your eyes away from where Buck is lying towards the origin of the voice.

“You should take a break, you need to eat something and stretch your legs,” Eddie squeezes your shoulder gently as he stands behind you, looking over the top of your head towards the ECMO machine keeping Buck’s breathing regulated. “It’s not good for you to sit here for so long,”

”You know I can’t leave him Eddie,” You sigh softly, dragging your hands over your face to try and rub the fatigue away from your features.

“Please,” He shakes your shoulders gently under his grasp. “You know he wouldn’t want to see you like this, you need to take care of yourself too,”

“I know that…”

“But you’re not going to leave anyway?”

”I just-” You exhale heavily, stretching your back from being hunched over to rest it against the back of the plastic chair you’re sitting in. “What if something happens while I’m not here?”

“Hey,” He tugs on the chair until you’re half-facing him. “If anything happens, I will call you. I promise. Please take a few hours to look after yourself, i’ll watch over him for now,”

You glance back towards Buck’s unmoving body, with a stuttered breath, slowly standing yourself up from your chair with Eddie’s hand behind your back to make sure you don’t stumble with how long you’d been sat there.

“He’ll be okay,” You look up at Eddie with glassy eyes as he tries to reassure you. “He’s a stubborn bastard, he’s not going anywhere,”

“I hope you’re right,”

“When have I ever been wrong?” He tilts his head slightly with a small smile, a lace of joking in his tone in his effort to lighten your mood a little.

It works to an extent, a small breathy laugh leaving your mouth, joined by a small shake of your head as you pull him into a short hug.

“Go and get some food, and then some rest alright?” He pulls away from the hug after a few seconds with his hands braced on your shoulders.

“Yes sir,”

Eddie laughs shortly at your sarcasm, watching you leave the room with a reassuring smile before he takes your place in the chair to watch over Buck until your inevitable return.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

“So what are we doing here exactly?” Chimney calls out to Buck as he power walks into the waiting room of the hospital, just barely able to match pace with Hen as the two follow after him.

“I’m not sure,” Buck stops abruptly once he’s inside, looking around. “I think maybe I’m supposed to come back to where it all started,”

“I guess that makes sense in the rules of this- Alternate universe,” Chimney gestures with his hands, following Buck’s turning head in gazing around the sterile white environment.

“I-I have this weird feeling, like I’m running out of time-” Buck turns to face the two with a furrowed expression and a hand pressed against his chest.

“Ooh, a ticking clock,” Chimney snaps his fingers in amusement, turning his head towards Hen who gives him a dissatisfied look. “Plot twist,”

Hen shakes her head with a roll of her eyes at Chimney, turning her attention back towards Buck. “You were having trouble breathing before right?”

“Yeah?”

“What if that wasn’t a panic attack?” She shakes her head again, but this time not in disapproval, instead in concern. “You guys are talking about this place as an alternate reality, but it’s not,” She gestures between Buck and the two of them.

“If you’re in a coma then this is all in your head, meaning that this place is still connected to that body.” She continues her theory with fervour, and Buck is increasingly grateful that at least she hasn’t changed at all. “If it can’t breathe, you can’t breathe,”

“So he feels like he’s running out of time-” Chimney’s cut off halfway through his sentence.

“Because my body is…”

Buck drags his hand down his face at the revelation. He was really at risk of dying here if he didn’t figure out how to get back quickly enough. He wanted to get back. He needed to get back. Desperately.

“Oh hey!”

Buck would recognise that voice anywhere. And it was both the most and least thing he wanted to hear right now.

“Chim, Hen, I didn’t know you guys knew Mr. Buckley,” Buck turns almost begrudgingly in the direction of your voice, a flicker of hope in his eyes as he meets your face. A flicker that immediately disappears as his eyes turn to the child in your arms.

He can’t be any older than five, and he looks just like you, except for his nose and his eyes. They matched Eddie’s features perfectly. And it felt like they were ripping his heart in two.

“Yeah uh…” The two look between each other as they question whether to divulge Buck’s predicament to you. “New acquaintances,”

“Mister Buck!” The child in your arms waves enthusiastically in Buck’s direction, a perfect mimicry of your smile on his features. He figures this must be Nicolas.

Mister Buck. That’s right, he was a teacher in this weird purgatory. He taught your’s and Eddie’s child. Like his life couldn’t get any worse.

“Hey little man,” His greeting was more than a little stunted, his attempt at masking his features clearly failing under the way concern blooms across your face. He always hated when you looked at him like that.

“Are you alright? I know you just got out of the hospital recently and you’re looking a little pale, maybe you should sit down,” You place Nicolas on the floor to guide Buck over to one of the chairs to sit down, and your touch against his arm feels both familiar and foreign at the same time.

“I’m fine, I’ll be fine,” He waves you off gently with a raise of his hand before bracing his arms on his knees.

“What are you doing here, everything okay?” Hen mirrors your concern towards Buck back onto you.

“Oh, yeah, everything’s fine,” You give her a short nod as you straighten up from where you were bending to held Buck sit down, taking Nicholas’ hand in yours as he tugs on the hem of your shirt. “Just a routine check for Christopher, Eddie’s in with him at the moment,”

“Okay good, can’t have our favourite squad in duress,” Hen nods, happy with your response as she ruffles Nicolas’ hair, earning a chuckle from the boy and only sending Buck deeper into his pit of misery.

He was angry at a child, how pathetic was that.

“Speak of the devil,” Chimney nods his head down one of the hallways, and the group of you all turn your heads in the same direction.

“Daddy!” Nicholas is off immediately, running in the direction of Eddie and Christopher the second he sees them round the corner, and Eddie scoops the boy into his arms with no effort whatsoever.

He always was suited to be a dad. And that arguably made it worse for Buck to watch.

“Everything’s good?” You walk over to the three boys with your head tilted, gaze flickering between Eddie and Christopher at his side.

“All good Mi Amor, he’s perfectly fine,” Eddie presses a kiss to your temple, his free arm sliding around your waist to hold you securely against his side.

And that’s when Buck decides that he’s had enough.

He physically cannot stand to watch you with Eddie like that.

He has to get out of there.

And so he does, standing up abruptly and practically running down one of the corridors, leaving all of you to watch on after him in a mix of shock and confusion.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

When you return to Buck’s hospital room, Eddie has been replaced by Bobby. You can’t really be mad at that, Eddie has Christopher to worry about, and you know that he’s probably having just as hard of a time with Buck’s situation as you are. You can’t even begin to imagine how difficult it is for Eddie to explain the situation to him. How Buck might not wake up.

You didn’t want to think about that right now.

“Hey…” Bobby turns his head up from his rosary beads as you practically whisper out your greeting, pulling a chair over so that you can sit next to him at the foot of Buck’s hospital bed.

He looks just as wrecked as you do.

“Hey,” His hands fall into his lap, thumbs still rolling over the wooden beads as he looks over your state. “How are you holding up?”

“Not great…” You start tearing up almost immediately, hands cupping your nose and your mouth and you lean forward with your elbows on your knees.

Empathy floods Bobby’s expression as he reaches over to rub a hand up and down your back with a soft sigh, watching as silent tears roll over the back of your hands to leave dark dapple marks on your jeans.

“I’m so scared…”

“I know kid,” Bobby pulls you securely against his side with his hand rubbing lines over your arm in a futile attempt to console you, his eyes locked on Buck’s unconscious features. “I’m scared too,”

“What if he never wakes up?” You lean your head against Bobby’s shoulder with a stuttered exhale.

“He’s strong, I have faith in him,”

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

“Oh hey kid, fancy meeting you here,” Bobby peeks out from behind a stacked shelf of medical supplies, his tone much lighter and less serious than Buck is used to when working with him.

“Thought you were dead,”Taking a moment to catch him breath, Buck steps further into the room slowly, his tone almost accusatory as his eyes narrow, beginning to tire of running around this fictional copy of his own life. “What are you doing here?”

“You tell me, it’s your dream, I’m just living in it,” Bobby shrugs nonchalantly, rifling through some of the bottles one one of the shelves. “Living my best afterlife,”

“Uh-huh, so I am dead,”

“Close but not quite,” Bobby suddenly changes position to come from behind Buck where he was previously stood in front of him. Because apparently that’s something he can do in this version of the world.

“Hey what do you think these do?” Bobby rattles a white tube container with a hum, tipping an unnumbered amount of pills into his mouth.

“This place is way too messed up to be heaven but uh, I don’t really believe in hell,” Buck exhales with furrowed eyebrows as he tries to comprehend everything. He feels like from the moment he woke up in this place he’s been in a constant haze of confusion, and no matter how much he tries to make sense of it, he can never fully grasp what’s happening.

“I- I’m in purgatory,” He exhales sharply as he accepts his own conclusion, laughing at himself ina derogatory fashion at his apparent stupidness. “I never really understood the concept of this, is th- is this a waiting room? Do I just have to hang here until my number is called or is it like, a-a punishment, a time out— do I have to do some type of penance before I’m allowed to move on?”

“Listen kid,” Bobby pulls an orange-brown translucent bottle from his pocket. “You need to relax,” He takes a large swig from the bottle, almost animatedly. “None of this is real,”

Buck’s features visibly soften at Bobby’s word, and he lets out a short laugh. “Ah, that’s the good news,”

Bobby turns towards a large white cabinet behind him, pulling the two doors open with both hands to reveal a large medicine cabinet. “The bad news is that it can be real enough to keep you here if you let it.”

“Uh, wh-what do you mean?”

Bobby pushes the clear bottles of pills on the middle shelf to the side to reveal a large glass window behind them, gesturing towards it with his head. “Hey look, you’re alive,”

Buck furrows his eyebrows as he cautiously approaches the window, features only furrowing further as they lock onto the image of the two of you in the darkened hospital room.

“And there’s me. Ooh I busted out the rosary beads, must be serious,” The image of Bobby shows him bent forward in his chair with his hands on his knees and his rosary in his hands, muttering soft prayers under his breath as he holds the beads up to his mouth.

“And a pretty lady, your girlfriend? She doesn’t look so good,” That was an understatement. From what Buck could see of the side of your face it looked like you were crying, the tear stains on your cheeks illuminated under the florescent lighting and making his heart wrench at the sight, wanting nothing more to pull you into his arms and kiss all of those tears away.

Then he noticed himself, lying perfectly still on a hospital bed hooked up to so many different machines he wasn’t even sure if he could name them all. “How- am I there and here?”

“Well, Evan Buckley, this is your deep dark subconscious,” Bobby leans over slightly towards Buck, tone slightly ominous.

Then the sound of a door turns both of them back towards the window as they watch Athena walk into the room and place careful hands on both yours and Bobby’s shoulders. “Oh hey, can we back up for a second? Are you telling me that’s my wife?” He exhales through his nose with a nod of satisfaction. “I mean, some things did work out for me didn’t they?”

“Do you know what’s happening to me in there?” Buck’s eyes lock on to what he can see of himself through furrowed eyebrows.

“Depends on how you look at it,” Bobby’s eyes follow his own, and he shrugs nonchalantly. “You could be dying, you could be fighting for your life. It’s kind of up to you,”

Bobby leans over towards Buck once again as he continues to stare at himself. “Which way you leaning?”

“I- don’t know,” Buck blinks softly, seemingly going over the pros and cons in his head. “This felt pretty great at first but… Then the Doug thing happened, then you, and then…” His eyes flicker towards where your sat once more, a soft sigh leaving his mouth.

“Well, I don’t think you can bring me back from the dead even in here, but…” Bobby crosses his arms loosely over his chest. “I think you can fix the Doug thing, maybe even the Eddie thing,”

“Wo- Would that actually work?”

“I don’t know, I’m not exactly bound by the laws of physics and logic here,” Bobby shrugs again and leans forward slightly. “I know what you know,”

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Athena walks over to Buck’s hospital bed with a sigh, gently laying her hand on Buck’s wrist to rub small circles against his skin. “I don’t know if you can hear me Evan Buckley, but I do know that you never give up. So don’t start now.” She shakes her head with an exasperated exhale, her tone still authoritative despite her obvious emotion towards the situation.

“Bobby has lost… two children. He cannot survive losing you.” She sighs softly, squeezing his wrist just a little. “And your girlfriend, oh the poor girl… She’s distraught over you. You can’t propose to her if you’re like this. So wake up damn it.” She raises her voice ever so slightly at the end of her sentence out of frustration. Mostly at herself, that she cant do anything to help get him out of the situation he’s in.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

“Wake up.”

“Yeah I’m trying.” Buck gestures exasperatedly with his hands as he walks back towards the hospital waiting room with Bobby following after him. “Just need to figure out what to fix to get back.”

“Maybe you should just give up.” Buck glances over his shoulder at Bobby’s ‘suggestion’, his harsh words contrasting his jovial tone. “Did you know that you were clinically dead for three minutes? Things aren’t looking good for you,”

“How come you’re such a jerk in this reality?” Buck’s tone shift to border frustration as he continues to walk with Bobby following after him.

“Because I am loosing patience.” Buck turns around with a furrowed expression, and the two stop in the middle of the corridor, locked in a stalemate.

“When are you gonna learn?” Bobby crosses his arms over his chest. “Brother’s die, children and their wives die, sisters get beat up by their husbands, girlfriends move on and find someone better, you can’t fix everything.”

“Well I fixed you.” Buck borders on shouting in anger at Bobby’s words.

“Oh really? How?” Bobby stares at him blankly as he anticipates an answer.

Buck takes a few seconds to respond, his eyes narrowing once he’s found his answer. “’Cause I joined the 118… And I mad you mad. And I made you cry. And I made you laugh sometimes, you know?” He exhales sharply, gesturing between himself and Bobby.

“I drove you crazy, but I think you spent so much time trying to make sure that I didn’t get myself killed, that it made you remember what it is to live.”

“So basically,” Bobby meets Buck’s gaze with his own. “You were Buck,”

“Yeah,” Buck seems to relax a little once he’d got everything off his chest, features softening. “I was Buck,”

“And that’s enough?”

Buck turns his gaze down to the ground as he takes a few seconds to think about it, a small breath of a laugh leaving his mouth as he makes his decision. “I think it is,”

“Looks like someone just figured out the answers for himself,”

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

A small group of you stand in Buck’s hospital room as they prepare to disconnect Buck from the ventilator. The priority visitors. His parents stood side by side, wrapped up in each other for mutual comfort, Maddie was hugging herself as an act of self-comfort, and Bobby was stood with his hand on your shoulder trying to comfort you.

The nurse carefully removes the ECMO covering Buck’s mouth and steps back towards the foot of his hospital bed. “And now we wait, see if he takes a spontaneous breath on his own,”

There’s about thirty seconds of silence before the regular beeping of Buck’s heart monitor changes to a jarring sharp sound, and Maddie turns towards the nurse with an anxious expression. “What’s wrong?”

“His oxygen is dropping,” The nurse’s tone is not at all reassuring. “If he doesn’t take a breath in the next few seconds we’re gonna have to reconnect him to the ventilator,”

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

“Right uh, this, this is all happening inside my head, which means I’ve been talking to myself this whole time,” Buck takes a sharp breath in as he looks over the perfect mirror of himself in front of him, who gives him a hum with a condescending expression.

“Upside— uh, I don’t have to feel bad about not listening to you anymore-” He shakes his head towards his mirror image before turning to ignore him, swiping all of the bottles off of the shelves to further reveal the glass window, beginning to pull the shelves off of their supports.

“What are you doing?” His mirror laughs sarcastically as he watches.

“I have to get back, I’m running out of time!”

“It’s impossible. There’s no way in there. You’re stuck with me.”

“It’s not impossible!” Buck shouts to be heard over this negative side of himself. “There is not a locked room anywhere that, with the right tools and enough time, you can’t break into.”

He takes a deep breath to regulate his volume, staring at himself with a determined expression. “ I know that.” He lets out a short laugh as he gains a sudden weight in his hand, a bright red fire axe, one that he’d used so many times in the past. “’Cause I’m a firefighter.”

“There’s nothing for you in that room. No one in there needs you.”

“I’m not going back for them. I’m going back for me.” Buck gives the mirror of himself a final look of disgust before turning to swing the axe as hard as he can into the glass, a loud shattering sound verberating through his ears.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

You all watching in a terrible anxious anticipation as the jarring beeps continue to blare with no indication of change, your eyes locked on Buck’s face as you all desperately will for him to take a breath without any assistance.

And then he does, and the whole room immediately falls into tears. His parents cling to each other with loud sobs, Maddie’s shoulders tremble as she cups a hand over her mouth, and your knees almost give out underneath you if not for the added support of Bobby keeping you upright.

To say you were all relieved was a universally large understatement.

You were sure you’d never felt happier in your life to know the love of your life was okay. And god forbid you ever let him leave your side again.

[citruslullabies]

I have an idea! Imagine reader is in a (large) smiling critter costume like DogDay, only she's got her own animal going on (a lamb, to be precise!). They've been apart from each other for the longest time, but somehow manage to reunite and they are both relieved to see that the other is okay... Well, mostly. Reader is worried about DogDay's lack of legs, but she helps him out! Established relationship, please!

Oo! I love this idea!

Trigger warnings: mentions of blood and organs

Romantic/platonic: romantic

Requested by: anonymous

Category: fluff

Ship (romantic or platonic): Dogday x lamb!mascot!reader

Word count: 708

Sheep Herding Dog

It seemed like to get through this place, you had to blend in. And even then your safety wasn't guaranteed, just a small sliver of extra hope was given to you like the pennies in the universe's pocket.

By some miracle you found your old lamb smiling critter costume, it was dingy but in fairly good condition. So you continued your hunt inside your old mascot costume, having an objective now to stop the prototype and save them. You were walking around, the stench of blood rotting your nose cavities even through the thick fluffy helmet. It was awful.

But.. something seemed to catch your eye, or well, someone. Dogday, chained to a wall with blood everywhere surrounding him and matted into that old costume that was practically merged into him by now. His intestines were hanging out a bit but by some miracle he was still alive, barely hanging on and on his last foot. You slowly spoke up, taking the helmet off. “..Dogday? Rich..?” You slowly said, approaching cautiously. Unaware if he was just as dangerous as the others by now.

You and Rich were a power couple in the work space, balancing both personal lives and work well. You two had always loved each other but you had called in sick, and he didn't. You still remember how you were throwing up and your skin was breaking out into hives, but not running a fever. Maybe it was your body and your anxiety warning you that something bad was going to happen, but Rich still left. The Dogday mascot looked up at you slowly and recognized you almost immediately. “..Angel? It's been so long I.. what are you doing here..?”

He could only ask with a hoarse voice from his previous weeping and screaming of pain, but filled with relief to see a familiar face. One that he adored so much before this all happened. You stated at him in shock, before you quickly ran over to him and rested one hand over his side above the wound and the other on his face, tears threatening to escape you.

Which they did. You sniffled and had to swallow down your own sobs, looking at him with those wide sheepish eyes. “What happened to you?” You whimpered out, struggling to find the strength to do anything but look at him and cry. You were scared to try and pull his helmet off, not believing it was a helmet anymore at this point. He would've given you a smile if one wasn't already permanently on his face.

He sighed softly and as if forgetting his chains were there, tried to move his hands to hold your face but was met with the harsh reality. He pressed his forehead against yours instead, sighing.

“You have to leave, Angel.” He said softly, glad to know that at least he would die knowing you're okay. It's all he wanted before he knew that the cruel monsters of this place would eat him inside and out. But you shook your head and released a tiny sob, putting your helmet back on and looking at his confinements. You used your grabby hands to break them with haste, and quickly pulled him up into your chest and held him like you would a toddler.

“H-hold on, I got you!” you said with urgency, seeing the mini smiling critters and beginning to pick up the pace. No time to lose when your life's on the line, including your partners. You still loved him dearly, and it was clear he still did too. You had never seen another in the ten years you'd been apart and well, neither had he. Once you two made it to safety, you set him down carefully and analyzed the gaping wound and lack of legs. You sighed and hugged him tightly, before whispering. “What are we gonna do about your little.. situation?”

You asked softly, unaware of what to do. In which his response was a tired sigh with his head propped on your shoulder. “I don't know, Angel..” His legs were likely rotted at this point but maybe.. just maybe they weren't.

And you were willing to find out. He couldn't herd his sheep without legs, could he?

Thanks for requesting!

[allbark-no-bite]

cain complex.

damon salvatore x reader (wc: 3.6k)

summary: he was the righteous brother, ever faithful and always gentle. and then there was Damon, dark and volatile with his ravenous Cain complex

warnings: angst, character death

author’s note: please note that this has nothing to do with the actual plot of TVD. this one’s been along time coming. ik people have a lot of mixed feelings about Damon so do with this what you will

————————————————————————

You started going to therapy again, per Ric's request. He hadn't forced you to go of course, he didn't feel that it was his place to tell you what do. Even though he did feel responsible for looking after you and Jeremy, it seemed as though the two of you looked after him just as much, and really it felt weird to enforce anything under the guise of being your parent.

While he did technically assume guardianship and enforced the unavoidable things like school and general safety, he had a tendency to make other things appear as mere suggestions. Such as one am curfews and therapy.

"It's just—I don't know. Just be a normal teenager. Teenagers go to therapy all the time. That's like the thing now," he'd said one morning while rinsing off dishes in the kitchen sink. And while he had been nonchalant about the suggestion, you knew he was really hoping you would take him up on the offer. Maybe Ric was right, it was time to do normal non-vampire teenager things.

—

"You said you're still sleeping at his house?"

His voice sounds contemplative, even a little concerned. "You know that while it's okay to want some alone time to process, it's better to surround yourself with people that you care about and who care about you. Maybe Ric or even one of your friends could stay with you?"

Ric had pulled a few strings at the university and gotten in touch with a friend of Isabel's who was  familiar with the whole supernatural vampire situation. So while he hadn't particularly been taken by surprise by anything you had told him, there are still somethings that you don't know how to explain.

A light, airy laugh leaves your mouth as you wipe the wetness away from your eyes, stalling in hopes that there's a better way to explain that you're not there alone. "Well... there's Damon."

Damon, who without question, took away the worst suffering imaginable from your little brother. Damon, who time and time again, made sure your family was safe. Damon, who fought his way into your life and never left. 

He actually pauses and looks up from his notes. This is the first time that you have seen him look surprised after nearly two weeks of sessions.

"You're staying with Damon?"

—

You feel him even before you see him at the funeral. His presence has always been like that, not quite smothering but certainly there. Alway there. His shoulder brushes yours to formally announce his arrival.

"Hey," he offers lowly, his smooth voice as level and unwavering as ever.

"Hey," you breathe back as you turn, looking up to meet his sharp eyes. They're intensified by a subtle redness around his irises. It is strange to think you had found them unnerving at first. Admittedly, their unnatural blueness was shocking to everyone. They were the eyes of a natural born predator, startling as much as they were cunning.

The crisp black suit hugs his broad shoulders in a presidentially confident manner. It's a noticeable difference as compared to how you are so used to seeing him, untamed and bestial. You're reminded of a wolf in captivity, controlled but only because he has momentarily allowed it.

Damon sighs heavily, like it's the first real breath he's taken in a while. "As someone who did not die when they should have over two hundred years ago, I can't say this ever gets any easier."

"It's not supposed to be easy. You're brothers, Damon."

He snorts, his shiny blue eyes fixed ahead on the casket. "So were Cain and Abel. Need I remind you of how that ended?" His voice comes out dry and ends with his signature humorous lilt that borderlines on insensitive; defiantly not how you would expect one who just lost their brother to sound.

Used to Damon's sarcasm by now, you recognize the bitterness in it. You know that no matter how many fights they had, no matter how much they disagreed, they would always forgive each other in the end. You wouldn't go as far as to say that they loved each other, they had both caused each other too much pain for that, but they were so devoted to keeping the other alive that sometimes the lines blurred. They were loyal like dogs, the Salvatores.

As if to address the silence that has washed over the two of you, he finally says, "We'll get over this."

"I know," you say, staring ahead at the casket.

When you don't look at him, he says it again. "I mean it, (Y/n). We're going to be okay."

Your throat is tight and all you can do is stare ahead as you fight the losing battle of not crying. "I know," you say again, but this time your voice cracks.

Damon sighs. "C'mere," he says, extending his hand out to you and pulling you in under his arm. Suddenly needing his embrace, you give in and turn to wrap your arms around him, your hands sliding under his suit jacket to feel the leanness of his body hidden beneath. You burrow into his chest, trying and failing to muffle your own sobs. With a sigh, Damon rests his chin on the top of your head. He allows you to stand there and just cry for a while, humming so that you can feel the vibrations of his throat.

When your tears stop and you go quiet in his arms, Damon pulls away from you just slightly to push the hair away from your face. Leaning down, he runs his perfectly sculpted nose along your throat, under your jaw, and up your cheek. You can tell by the way he breathes that the kind of respect that you're asking him for is causing him real, physical pain. You are pressed so close that you get the sense he is trying to make this enough.

"He loved you," he whispers, his mouth hot against your cheek. "He loved you so much."

You shut your eyes, fighting back more tears and try to will away the grief that is clawing it's way up your throat. Instead you think about the firm muscle of Damon's arms around you and the raw familiarity of his body on yours. Sure, you had loved Stefan, but Damon was no stranger.

"I loved you too," he murmurs, speaking into your shoulder. "And I know that I'm not Stefan—but god I loved you. I still love you."

I know, you want to say. I know. But you can't quite find the words and Damon doesn't push you to.

He just hugs you like he knows it might be the last time. Because after this you'll need space and time to heal, and he'll give it to you. Unwillingly, but he'll give it to you. You deserved that much.

You want to tell him that you will never learn how to love anyone quite like him. Because he had rearranged your ribs and crawled into you at some point without the intention to stay. But instead you don't say anything because you're not ready yet, don't know if you'll ever be again, and you don't want to make promises that you can't keep.

Regardless of the contradiction to the space that you have asked for, most nights you still find yourself in the Salvatore manor, like a dog waiting for someone who's never going to return home. You know that Ric would rather you home, and you've tried explaining to him your need to be there, but you really don't even understand it yourself. Sometimes you spend days there at a time, lingering between the kitchen, the sofa, and one of the spare bedrooms without much of a routine.

Damon's heavy weight shifts the bed as he eases onto the mattress behind you, having found you in one of the many spare bedrooms after his shower. He is the exception to your lack of routine. He shapes his body around yours with practiced ease. A sigh escapes his nose as he settles in, his nose in your hair, chest pressed to your back. You hug your arms around yourself tighter, as if that could somehow communicate to him that you need to feel his closeness. It does, and his arms encircling your waist tighten. Neither of you say anything for a long time.

He has been quiet for weeks now, uncharacteristically so. Maybe part of it is due to the lack of bristling arguments with Stefan. The two of you have learned to live around each other surprisingly well. Much like two ghosts inhabiting a big empty house. Somehow you keep ending up in the same bed.

You turn to face him, the sheets shuffling as you move. His hand lifts from your waist, hovering to allow you the initiation of any sort of contact. Even before now, he has always kept a big brotherly distance from you; respectful but achingly familiar.

You move your head so that you are both sharing the same pillow, your bodies only separated by a sliver of space in between. Lifting your own hand from beneath the sheets, you grab his wrist and place his palm on your waist. The corners of his mouth vaguely lift into a smile. Your chest feels surprisingly light at the sight of it. Damon has always been breathtakingly handsome.

But he's always been Damon.

His fingertips trail up from your waist. He runs them up and down the ridges of your ribs, the blunt of his nails barely grazing your skin. His heavy hand slips up your body to cradle your cheek, his blue eyes wandering over your face while his thumb caresses your cheekbone. You tilt your chin up towards him so that your noses brush. Damon swallows and his lips part, exhaling softly.

His brow is less tense that you have seen it in a long time. No longer set with that look of insistent worry. You don't mean for him to worry so much about you.

"This doesn't have to be anything more than you want it to be," he murmurs, stopping you before you both edge too close.

Normally anyone would have taken this as some sort of forewarning, a reminder that he is not responsible for whatever follows after. This is Damon after all. All the same, you see it in his eyes that this isn't him warning you. He really means it; whatever you choose, it's fine. He'll be fine.

The reality of his continuous presence has just begun to sink in. It has been in the forefront of your mind that he's been restraining himself, hoping that eventually this transitionary stage will fade into something more. You have never imagined that he would settle for what little you're giving him. It is so uncharacteristic of him, to settle for anything less than everything.

This change that has happened within him, you have been blind to. There was a reason you had fallen for Stefan. He was the righteous brother, ever faithful and always gentle. And then there was Damon, dark and volatile with his ravenous Cain complex. Never would you have described Damon as compromising and steadfast, but here he is, laying beside you, saying that he would be content with nothing more other than to lie next to you and exist in your presence.

You grab his hand with your own, following his fingers as they glide down to your neck. "That's a heavy promise for a man who's going to live forever."

Damon thumbs at the hollow of your throat, but his blue eyes are fixed on your own. "Even if I had a thousand lifetimes, I would spend all but one choosing you."

"And with that one?" you ask, swallowing beneath his touch.

He sighs, still smiling faintly. "I would step back. Give you your happy ending with him." Only the slight twitch of the corner of his mouth gives him away. That was his one tell, that self deprecating look.

"I am happy," you assure him.

"But I'm not Stefan."

You don't say anything for a moment. Instead you prolong your gaze on his face, taking in the undeniable attractiveness of it. Now that you think about it, you can't even pin down the moment where you started allowing yourself to even consider such a thought. At what point had you started to think of him as anything more than a friend?

"No, you're not."

He swallows, and for the first time tonight, the look in his eyes is hurt. "And that's it? It's just always going to be Stefan?"

You want to be able to tell him that you're moving on, it's just that it still feels like you're hurting all of the time. "I don't know. Maybe if I had met you first..."

Damon's eyes look away, like he's taking a moment to compose himself, before he sighs. "Right... right."

*four years ago*

"New OR–LINS."

"New Orleenz."

"No!" you exclaim, your chest squeezing tight due to lack of air it's getting from laughing and the intensity of his million watt smile.

Damon grins lazily, his pearly white teeth on display again. "I'm telling you, my parents are from the south. It's New Orleens."

The action only seems to make your chest tighter. You feel slightly dizzy from a combination of the champagne and electric nerves. All you can seem do is laugh at the earnesty in his voice and hope he blames your flushed cheeks on the alcohol.

Damon Salvatore. The mystery man of Mystic Falls. He's got a front page picture face with all of the amenities: unsettling, crystal blue eyes, jet black hair, and a wicked smile. The same smile that is currently rendering you speechless.

"You're staring."

Quickly, you tear your eyes away from his face. You glance to his nearly empty glass of whiskey and then back to his now smirking face. "Sorry," you reply, embarrassed at having been caught staring. You were a grown woman, not some teenage girl fawning over an older guy. And he was older, you just couldn't put your finger on how much older.

Damon just grins wryly, his pink lips pressed together to conceal most of his smile. He hums, sitting back on the bar stool. "It's okay. You're not the only one."

You glance over your shoulder and make eye contact with Matt. He stares back at you with that signature worried expression on his face. You sigh and turn back towards the bar, acting as though you didn't just see him.

You haven't talked for most of the night and it's looking like it might be better if you kept it that way. You'd fought again over his parents. It wasn't his fault. None of it was. He was Matt, your best friend since elementary school for god's sake. Matt, who was caring and loving and honest and too good to you.

You focus on the little bit of champagne left in your glass. You can feel the burn of Damon's eyes on you.

"Hey, I get it. It's okay," he assures you. His hand settles on your knee under the bar. It's not nearly as warm as you were expecting it to be but it still makes your skin feel hot.

You sigh, unable to look at him and staring to realize that what you're doing is ridiculous. You had a boyfriend. It was wrong for you to be sitting here, talking with a random man and letting him but you drinks. Even if he was gorgeous.

You want to ask him if he has a girlfriend because maybe that would make this whole thing a little bit easier to take. Then you could just get up and walk away. But you can't bring yourself to even look him, much less say anything to his face. Maybe you don't even want to know. Him being single would make this whole thing worse. It would put the ball back in your field.

"Is everything alright?" he asks, leaning in. This time his hand travels further up your knee. His cologne is overwhelming in the sense that if you don't get away from him, you'll do something irrational.

"Excuse me," you manage, jumping up from your seat and tipping the stool as you go. You don't wait to see if it falls because you can't risk looking back at his face.

Your feet carry you in the direction of Caroline and Bonnie, brushing directly past Matt, who you try not to look at. Thankfully he doesn't try to stop you. When you reach your friends, Caroline turns towards you smiling, but it grows smaller as she takes in your look of urgency.

"Hey!— What's wrong? Is everything okay?" Her hand finds your elbow, the worry on her face evident.

You place your hand on top of hers. "Really, it's nothing. I'm fine. Just some random guy at the bar," you reassure her, feeling your heat rate as it begins to settle.

A look of gentle understanding crosses her face and she gives your arm a reassuring squeeze. "Things are going to work out between you and Matt. I know they will. Okay?"

You swallow and try not to let her see the doubt on your own face. "I know. Thanks, Care."

This time she breaks out into a real smile, grabbing your hand. "Now come on! Let's dance!"

You allow her to drag out onto the middle of the floor in the grill, meeting up with Bonnie. It's easy to let your worries go for even just a little while when you're with them. It's a Friday night and you're with your best friends and there's absolutely nothing to worry about. It's kinda of like what they say, nothing bad ever happens in Mystic Falls.

"I'm going to take it as a compliment that you're talking to everyone here but me."

The voice coming from behind you makes you jump. You hadn't even heard his footsteps coming up behind you. It was like he had appeared out of thin air. You could have sworn he wasn't there a moment ago.

You'd stepped out of the backdoor of The Grill for a moment, needing some fresh air. More like needing to get away from Matt's wounded puppy dog eyes, but air all the same. You had nearly all but forgotten the handsome stranger at the bar until now.

Damon approaches you, his hands hidden in the pockets of his black leather jacket. He looks no less confident than he did earlier at the bar, that easy smile still on his lips, charming blue eyes shining in the moonlight.

"You gotta be careful. They say there are vampires around here."

For once you allow your shoulders to relax, and you let out a sigh. "Hey. I'm sorry," you begin, shaking your head. "I'm having a rough night. It's just that I'm probably about to break up with my boyfriend except I'm not supposed to break up with him because he's perfect. But then he starts talking about getting married and I'm not ready to get married. I'm barley nineteen—"

Damon just stands there, listening quietly to your rant and watching you with curious eyes. That's all you've wanted for past week. Just someone to listen without trying to convince you that Matt was the perfect guy.

Even when your rant ends, Damon remains quiet. He sucks on his pearly teeth before replying. "Sometimes just because he's the perfect guy doesn't mean he's the right guy. You can take it from me when I say I don't regret not being the perfect guy." His face pinches briefly into something that looks like hurt as he says, "It's no fun anyway."

Admittedly, you kind of laugh at his revelation. "Because you would know all about that. Have you looked in a mirror lately, Damon? In what world are you not perfect?"

His mouth twitches up but he doesn't really make the effort to smile. "You'd be surprised."

You swallow, watching him as he walks a bit closer. "What do you mean?"

"Do you have any idea what it's like to no longer be human?" Your brows furrow but Damon cuts you off before you can answer. "You don't. It's terrible. I hate it. I hate it more than anything in the world. But what I hate even more is that you're going to have to forget about me."

His hand cups your cheek and you know you need to step back, you need to get away from him, but your legs are frozen and you can't move. Your heart is back to pounding in your chest like it was earlier. You want to scream. For anyone, for Matt, but Damon's hand is cupping your jaw and he could shut you up the second you opened your mouth.

His blue eyes are staring directly into yours. They're just as unsettling as they were when he caught your eye at the bar earlier. What is possibly even more terrifying is that you can't look away.

And then he's just... gone.

Your heart is still thumping in your chest, but when you look around, there's no one there.

Had you been talking to someone?

*present day*

There's something that he's not telling you, but you won't push him to, not right now. Right now it's good to just lay with him and know that you're both here and that he's not going anywhere.

He could tell you. He could be selfish and tell you that he did meet you first. That you were never Stefan's to begin with.

But that's the thing about being Cain. He will always be his brother's keeper.

[raeniskaies]

how to fix your mindset ♡

- your mindset is one of the most powerful things in the world . how you depict the world , what you believe , can absolutely change it all . .

001 , respect yourself

- so most of you attend school , right ? whenever you talk to the teacher , you call them by their honorific titles or speak to them with respect . or if you meet a stranger , you greet them and ask how they are. now , forget about teachers or strangers , imagine you are greeting a member of the royal family , you curtsy or bow towards them with a great amount of respect. you are a member of the royal family. every single morning , look in the mirror and tell yourself you deserve a great amount of respect and you deserve the freaking world . don't expect anybody to love you if you don't even like yourself ! look at your room. is it messy ? if so , go clean it right now because having the place where you sleep , study and lounge be messy is extremely disrespectful to yourself. not having the respect or even a frick to clean after yourself is disrespectful to you and you might not even realise it. treat yourself like you're the most precious thing in the world because honey , you are .

002 , stop being lazy + pathetic

- you may be still searching on how to stop being lazy or how to get back up. do it. I don't care if you're tired because whose fault is that ? some people can not afford to be lazy. the financially struggling can not afford to be lazy. the single parents can not afford to be lazy. the workers can not afford to be lazy. you sit around on your butt all day watching tiktok or reading tumblr blogs or whatever to do absolutely nothing. God has given you the gift of life , out of billions , you were the one to be placed on this earth and you spend your life doing nothing ? don't say you're unlucky or your life is terrible. that's absolutely pathetic. let that be your motivation. it's okay to take breaks or rest but please get back on track. only the privileged can afford to be lazy.

003 , don't follow people around - you're not a dog

- have you watched ' mean girls ' ? had you seen gretchen and karen ? did you notice how they follow regina ? don't be like them , don't waste your time , your life on following someone like they own you. don't seek someone's attention like you live off of it ; you don't ! it's also disrespectful to yourself because you're lowering yourself to the position of a dog or any other pet , following it's master to the end of their time. life is only once. use your time on something more important.

004 , idgaf

- please don't care if somebody hates or dislikes you. they are just jealous. no seriously , they spend most of their time obsessing over you and your life just to " hate on it " , they're jealous , hun. also face it , we are all going to die , life is too short to care about it , you are way more important to just worry your pretty little head on some obsessive parasite !

" so and so said this about you - " okay.

" they said this - " okay.

okay. idgaf.

005 , life is survival of the fittest

- your future matters. your teen years go way too fast and before you know it , you're already grown up. get a decent education. get to the top.

my mother always tells me I am pretty , I am smart , I have potential and I actually do. at the age of 10 she would already know what private university she would attend and she would have that as her number one goal. 5 years later , she travelled away from all of her family , her friends , her home to reach her dream ( the uni ) and she did. she knows others who have done the exact same as her who are billionaires and others who haven't who are financially struggling. throughout her parenting ( the first couple years were an extremely tough time for her ) journey , not one person , not even her bestest friends had come to our home offering gifts or money , not even for her kids. everybody else is focusing on their own families and their lifes ! if you have an opportunity , take it , like my mother had + be prepared ! because at the end of the day , in 10 years , your " friend " will not pay your rent.

006 , your mind is blind but not deaf

- your brain has no eyes of some sort that can lookout and know what's happening. whatever you tell your brain is happening , that's what it will believe , e . g ::

♡ " I'm ugly " then you'll be ugly. you'll perceive yourself as ugly.

♡ " I can't achieve anything " then you won't. you'll get nothing done in your life.

instead , tell yourself affirmations in the mirror , remind yourself that you're absolutely stunning ! it will come true !

007 , every setback is a blessing in disguise // see the bright things in everything

- now I do not care how bad something was , or how much it had impacted you , that is a blessing in disguise from God. God has your back. God is with you 24 / 7. He is greater than everything in the entire world. Don't ever erase that from your mind if something as small as not being able to go to your bestie's bday party or having strict parents. When I moved to the other side of the world , I felt like my life was over. 2 months later , I realised how toxic some of my old " friends " were and I got amazing opportunities where I live now. " When a door closes , another one opens " that is one of the most truthful sayings ever.

008 , don't wallow in your own self pity like a pig

- did you lose a competition or your partner broke up with you ? its okay to feel sad and you can cry about it but afterwards , get up. Move on. im sorry but nobody really cares. "oh my life is so unfair" so is everybody else's ? Get over it , please ! you can try another competition and your ex was clearly not for you so move on. nobody will care because they have their own problems to deal with. they may say sorry or give you a pat on the back but that's it. It won't change anything. they will be a whole lot ahead of you whilst you're still in the same spot in life , wallowing in your own self pity. whether you like it or not , life moves on and nobody cares , ml ♡

009 , set boundaries

- do you not like it when someone makes fun of you or touches you in a way you don't like ? you do not have to endure that , honey ! set your boundaries and if someone breaks them , take a break / leave them ! if they cannot respect your boundaries , they don't deserve you ! ♡

010 , drop toxic people

- it doesn't matter if you've been friends with them since kindergarten , or you don't want to seem mean. drop toxic people. this includes "friends" who just talk about themselves and say things like "oh , my life sucks" all the time , put everything in a negative mood. they don't deserve you. don't ruin your mental health over someone else , ml ! ♡

sorry if I sounded mean , I'm just trying to be honest !! ♡

[sunflowergraves]

Unpacking Will Solace’s Character

I’ve seen a lot of Will Solace hate since TSATS and it’s really starting to bother me. As a person that relates heavily to Will’s character, it’s upsetting to see him get bashed across the internet, especially considering we’ve never actually gotten to know his character. Personally, I feel like a lot of people are basing his character around headcanons and fanfiction (which I am guilty of) and were disappointed when he wasn’t who we saw him as. 

It doesn’t help that the only time we got to see Will’s POV it was short and through the eyes of others. He’s also not this big hero like all the characters in the PJO universe. His powers aren’t that strong, he’s not a prophecy child, and his talents are mediocre. Will is the most human demigod we’ve ever been introduced to. I can understand why his character doesn’t feel multi-dimensional compared to everyone else, but in my opinion, he was fleshed out very well. 

Yes, there are a few things I was disappointed by. I wish they talked about Will’s past more and his grief over his dead siblings. I wanted him to have his own weapon, even if it was an old bow he never used or a lyre like Apollo used in TOA. But I will always love that they changed him from the calm, collected counselor healer to an anxious, depressed, self-doubting person because it fits him so well. How could he not feel these things after losing friends and family? After being abandoned by everyone around him? Or being forced to take on the caretaker role of the entire camp because he was the only one left? 

I’m going to continue this down below, so if you don’t want major spoilers for TSATS, don’t continue reading. Also this is long as hell in case you just want to skim. 

Every time Will was mentioned in the books, it was from someone else’s POV and it was a few lines at best. 

Will has always been described as the cool, relaxed, go-with-the-flow type of guy. He was the person with a level head and knew exactly what to do. But guess what? Underneath that cool exterior was an anxiety riddled people pleaser who threw himself at every problem because that’s what he was told to do. The Apollo cabin was always the head medic team. After Lee and Michael died, Will was basically thrust into that position of power. He was trusted to take care of his younger siblings, trusted to take care of the entire camp. If he let them down, it was going to cost lives. Of course he’s going to be scared and nervous, but he can’t show that. Would you want a doctor with shaky hands and sweat running down their neck? Would you want to be taken care of by a person who doubted and second guessed themselves out in the open? 

As someone who was given a lot of responsibly and forced to grow up at a young age, I completely understand this. You want to try to make everything better for others around you, you get scared when you fuck up, and you HATE when people can’t rely on you. That’s why you will never show how scared you are to fuck up. You will never let people get inside your head because if they can’t rely on you, what good are you? Breaking out of the role that everyone else gave you because they trusted you is scary and hard. 

Nico is probably the only person who knows what Will really thinks. Will trusts Nico with his anxiety and overthinking because he’s comfortable enough around him to show that side. He knows he doesn’t have to Mr. Hero in front of Nico and that’s such a precious and important bond to make with someone. 

Will was valid for being whiny and irritated for most of the book. 

First, Will has ANXIETY. If you don’t know what it’s like to live with anxiety, count yourself lucky. It feels like your thoughts are attacking you constantly. It’s like an uphill battle between rational thought and absolute chaos. I can’t get in my car without thinking of all the ways I could die before I buckle my seatbelt. Imagine going to SuperHell for the first time in your life! Not only that, but people told Will constantly that as a child of Apollo he was basically fucked. The three strongest demigods that made it back almost went insane! Of course Will is going to be upset, irrational, irritated, and uncomfortable. 

In TOA, he voiced several times how he thought it was a bad idea and that he really didn’t like it. This is not a new thing for Will’s character at all. For him to be willing to cross a line he had made concrete shows that he loves and cares for Nico. But that shouldn’t mean he isn’t allowed to be uncomfortable. 

Second, for anyone saying he could have stayed at camp instead of going has never sacrificed their comfort for someone else. There are so many instances in my life where I went way out of my comfort zone because I knew my friends/family wanted me there. Did I complain? Hell yes. Did I still do it? Hell yes! If Will had said, “Nico, I can’t do this and I refuse to at least try,” I would have lost so much respect for his character. Instead he sucked it up, even when he was already practically dying before they got there. 

Three, Will was worried about Nico. He’s never experienced Tartarus, he’s never been to the Underworld. While Will has definitely faced his share of demons, he’s never stood in Nico’s shoes. So when his boyfriend is having vivid nightmares and hearing voices, he’s going to try and rationalize it for Nico because that’s what he has done his entire life. Will is the “healer.” He is supposed to fix things, not let them traipse off to hell like it’s a vacation spot. 

Four, this is a 15 year old. Fuck, even now at the ripe ole age of 20, I’d still be shaking in my boots terrified at the thought of going somewhere that is practically a jailhouse for the worst creatures in creation. Will has little to no experience on the field (He ran from six guards without even trying to pull out a weapon. The worst thing he’s ever said to his enemies was “anemic loser” and didn’t even want to kill Octavian. Every battle before that he had an older sibling to look up to and care for him). So yeah, I’d just be a tad bit nervous and annoying.  

Will asking Persephone how to love someone from the Underworld was honest and raw. 

This scene broke me in ways I can’t even describe because of how real it felt. If you’ve ever been in a deep and caring relationship (friendship counts) you should understand. Like Persephone said, love is something you choose and it’s complicated and messy even for people who were practically made for each other. For Will to ask how to love someone from the Underworld shows that he is actively choosing to understand and love Nico. 

I get that most people interpret Will’s lines as “How do you love someone so filled with death?” but really he’s asking how do you love someone who acts like he doesn’t want to be loved? How do you love someone that pulls away from your light no matter how desperately you try to give it them? How do you love someone who hides parts of themselves from you? 

Will is a healer, he fixes things. It’s not until this scene that Will realizes the only thing Will needs to fix is his perspective on Nico. That darkness and hurt and trauma is okay. It’s also a scene where Will realizes he doesn’t have to force down his own trauma anymore. 

Will loves Nico and it’s so obvious he scared to lose him. He thinks he’s weak and broken and incapable of helping Nico escape his trauma. His insecurities shadow him and he’s confused about how to navigate this relationship because he thinks he needs to be the leader. How can he lead if Nico won’t let him? How can he help when he doesn’t know how? Persephone’s scene was Will’s chance of finding guidance from someone who could understand exactly what he’s thinking

People in their late 40′s still can’t get relationships down. Why are we pushing unrealistic relationship ideations on a 15 year old who doesn’t even know who he is yet?

Will was not useless. 

Sorry that the relationship duo isn’t Mr. Badass and Mr. Badass 2.0. Will not being a fighter is refreshing to see because honestly I’m quite tired of seeing badass couples in every book/movie. Not everyone is strong and powerful and super awesome. Will is a nerd that likes healing people. Why isn’t that enough? 

“He’s described as having muscles,” “He’s a field/combat medic,” “He fought in the wars,” “He carries people all the time,” “He trains with the Apollo cabin.” Okay and? I was raised to work hard and protect myself. I work out and I know how to use a bow and knife. Does that mean I want to? No. 

I’d also like to point out that almost everyone in camp is described as having muscles. You kind of have to when your life motto is Try not to die or get eaten. Also they train on lava walls, jump eight foot pits, and weapons. I get a little bit of muscle going on my silly little walks, I’d be fucking jacked if I was actively training. 

Second, Will has never once been described fighting monsters/demigods. I don’t doubt that he’s had a few encounters, but the boy practically specializes in RUNNING AWAY. He’s a feral little animal that finds injured demigods and sprints them away to the medic center while occasionally bashing monster heads in. He’s strong because he needs to be, not because he wants to be. Strength also doesn’t equal battle prowess. 

Not to mention, he hates killing! He didn’t want to kill Octavian despite Octavian being the actual worst. He runs away as a distraction even though he had weapons on him. He got upset when Nico threw Sherman Yang out of the chariot in TOA. Monsters are different, but monsters are also scary. Will is terrified of demon pigeons, you really think he’s willingly gonna go one-on-one with anything bigger than his pinky? 

I’ll admit, I hated that he didn’t have a weapon in Tartarus. I thought it was really stupid and out-of-character because my anxious ass would have loaded up. Still, it was kind of funny when they described Will bashing rocks over monster’s heads during their fight with Nyx. 

My final point for this: Will was Nico’s support system and that was the point. Will knew he wasn’t going to throw hands with anyone. He went because he knew Nico needed him even when Nico told him to stay. Will was going to trek through SuperHell with the love of his life and hold his hand to remind him that he was loved. Will wanted Nico to know that he’d literally go to Hell and back for him and that’s what mattered. 

Nico didn’t ask Will to be the Hero. Nico states several times that the reason he loves Will is because he wants to heal and he’s so stubborn to find the good in everything. And that’s exactly what Will did. He offered support, care, and reminders. He was going to understand and love Nico, even through the darkest parts of his life. 

Will is one of the best support systems in a PJO couple duo. 

It makes me incredibly sad to see people call Will toxic when he gave his entire life to support Nico. I won’t deny that he complained a lot and said hurtful things and that he occasionally belittles Nico’s feelings. But Will didn’t know he was doing those things. He thought he was helping Nico navigate his PTSD. How is someone who is still emotionally developing his own character supposed to know how to take care of someone else’s? 

Will also clearly showed love and affection towards Nico. He met all his friends and was polite to them even when they looked scary. Will risked his life several times before they got to Tartarus and still insisted on continuing. Built a Minecraft house for his boyfriend and left him a KitKat bar because he knew he would feel fatigued (also Will brought KitKat bars, meaning he was already thinking of Nico’s health beforehand). He tried to be useful by scouting ahead because he felt like he was being a burden on Nico. He kissed him, called him silly nicknames, hugged him, respected his boundaries (asking to hold him instead of trying to comfort him immediately), and oh yeah, went to Tartarus when he was obviously quaking in his flipflops. 

He also helped Bob when he had no idea who/what he was, comforted Nico when he was beginning to lose hope, acknowledged his mistakes and admitted he needed to try harder, realized he didn’t need to fix Nico and that his boyfriend was perfect the way he was, and learned that Nico wasn’t going to leave him. 

Love is complicated. Love is something you choose. And Will chooses to love Nico. Also for everyone saying a year is long enough to learn/realize these problems already and have them solved, you need to take the rose tinted glasses off. I’ve been with my partner for almost four years, and I’m still learning things about our relationship. We argue, we don’t always meet eye-to-eye. Our own trauma and experiences surface and it gets difficult. But do we just call it quits and throw everything into the trash? No. We talk, we problem-solve, we come back and try to understand each other even if we don’t know how to do that. A year is nothing. A year is puppy love and excitement. It’s like your favorite movie on repeat. All the problems are ignored because you don’t want to see them yet. 

So for a pair of 15 year old's who just came to terms with their sexuality, I think that they are doing pretty damn good at this love thing. 

Anyway, that’s all I really wanted to say. Even though we’ve had Will for years, we’ve never gotten to know his true character until now. It’s raw and weird and doesn’t fit the mold of Will Solace, son of Apollo we all created him to be. You can still hate his character or whatever, I’m not going to try to change your mind. But don’t hate on everyone else who loves him and loves this book. 

[cuubism]

A vignette from Silly Rabbit universe (jeez it's been a while). Part 1 of 3 interconnected scenes. [Explicit]

--

“You know, there’s an old saying about lying,” Hob remarked casually to Dream.

Dream was leaning against the bookshelf as Hob graded, looking far too self-satisfied. Earlier, Hob had told him about how a university administrator had come by to ask him if Morpheus was a student, to which Hob had responded with an emphatic no because as much as he wanted to let Dream have his fun, he wasn’t about to let people go around thinking he was fucking his students, Jesus Christ. Dream had pouted at first, though he understood.

Now, he was smirking, and that could not be good.

“I tell no lies,” Dream reminded him, “and I weave no webs, other than by providing the scaffolding for imagination. Your students – and colleagues – are simply creative.”

“Well, whatever you’re doing, let’s steer the rumors away from sexual harassment, if you don’t mind.” Hob could technically always fake his death, but he’d really really rather not have that be the cause.

He also really didn’t want to have to go back to grad school yet. Please, God.

“As you wish,” said Dream. “I have no desire to disturb your life.”

“I like having you disturb my life,” Hob said. “Upend it. Throw the table over.” As long as you stay. “There just has to be a limit somewhere.”

“I will plant more stories separating myself from this university,” Dream said, and Hob breathed a sigh of relief.

“Thank you.”

“After all,” Dream continued, with a crafty smile, “there are plenty of other reasons a man such as yourself might be in possession of a lover who is… how did that student of yours phrase it? Young, pretty, and unemployed.”

Hob groaned. He could already see where this was going. “You’re only one of those things, Dream.”

“And as I have stated, I will not be obtaining a ‘job.’”

Hob threw a pen at him, which Dream caught with those supernatural reflexes of his.

“You should get a job. A human job,” Hob told him.

Dream’s lip curled in the most abject expression of disgust Hob had ever seen. “Why?”

“Because it would be funny. I want to walk into Starbucks in the morning and see you behind the counter glowering at some kid ordering a Pink Drink.”

“Ah, I exist for your amusement, then,” said Dream, leaning further back against the bookcase. “A court jester dancing about for tossed pennies.”

“Pretty much,” Hob agreed.

Hob expected him to pout, but instead, he smiled. It was not a smile that boded well for Hob. “Or perhaps… I am doing more than dancing for my coin.”

“What is this obsession with making me look like a sex fiend?” Hob demanded.

“If it is easily believable,” Dream said haughtily, “then that is hardly my fault.”

Hob blew out a long breath. “I’d almost think you wanted to destroy my reputation.”

“Perhaps I want you to myself,” mused Dream. “Perhaps I crave all your attention.”

“You have it.” Hob beckoned him over, and Dream uncurled himself from his slouch, stepping over and perching on the edge of Hob’s desk. “The moment you step into a room, you have it,” Hob said, looking up at him. “And all of my daydreams besides.”

Dream found his hand and brought it to his mouth, kissing each finger in turn. “Good.”

Hob meant to make some lighthearted retort about his sheer entitlement, but it was impossible to focus on it when Dream had his mouth on him, looking at him from under his eyelashes like that.

“You know,” Hob said instead, keeping his voice light purely through force of experience, “sometimes I think you haven’t actually given up on that bet that I’ll die, you’ve just decided that you want to be the cause of it.”

Dream grumbled in disagreement. “If you are choosing death, then I have been using my mouth very wrong.”

Hob should probably take his hand away from Dream’s mouth if he wanted to survive this conversation. He didn’t. “We should probably take this elsewhere.”

Dream, the absolute bastard, merely tugged Hob closer, pulling him off balance in his seat. “Must we? For I seem to recall a young vagabond who would have cheerfully bent me over a table in full view of the entire tavern, given the chance. Have you become so timid?”

“Nope,” Hob said, and, resigned to it now – or rather, gleefully allowing himself to be dragged into Dream’s fantasies, as usual – braced his hands on Dream’s hips. “Wouldn’t have. Even then, I wanted you all to myself.”

“You have it now,” Dream said. He hooked one long leg around Hob’s back to hold him close. “Will you let the locale stop you?”

“Oh, no, in fact, this is an enduring fantasy of mine,” Hob admitted. He slipped his hands under Dream’s shirt, feeling the sharp angles of his hips. “It’s just, we were talking not five minutes ago about avoiding getting fired for workplace misconduct.”

Dream merely looked at him expectantly.

Hob sighed and conceded, “Would probably be worth it.”

Dream’s eyes lit with victory as if he hadn’t known he would get exactly what he wanted from the start.

“This is a fantasy of yours?” Dream asked as Hob gave into temptation and pushed up his shirt, kissing his belly just above the waistband of his jeans.

“As if you don’t know,” Hob said.

“I know only what dreams you share with me,” Dream said, letting out a sigh as Hob kissed his way over to his hip bone. “I do not pry.”

“Uh-huh.”

“I don’t,” Dream insisted. He tugged on Hob’s hair in admonishment. “If your fantasies are obvious in the way you look at me, that is not my fault.”

“Are they that obvious?” Hob asked as he worked on unbuttoning Dream’s jeans. He couldn’t help but be charmed by the thought, even if it was another strike towards getting fired for inappropriate workplace behavior.

Dream smiled. “At times. But you have never been one to hide your feelings. And it is flattering.”

“‘Course it’s flattering. Sponge for compliments you are.” Hob wondered idly how obvious his thoughts on Dream had been over the many years of their meetings. Wondered if Dream had seen them, and simply decided not to address them — or hadn’t let himself see it at all.

“I suppose,” Dream agreed idly, as he dragged a hand through Hob’s hair, disheveling it, scratching his scalp with sharp fingernails. “Does that make you a font of compliments, then?”

“Or just a born simp, as the kids put it.”

“I did overhear a student say as much,” Dream admitted, and Hob laughed, pressing his forehead to Dream’s stomach.

“God I’m so obvious. Did you know I actually had a professional reputation, once upon a time? Properly professional Professor Gadling, I was once.”

“I do not doubt it,” said Dream, in an overly indulgent tone. “You have been wholly professional and respectable, always. And certainly never a charming bandit swindling your way into pockets and pants.”

“Charming, eh?” Hob grinned up at Dream, not missing the irony that he was currently mid way through getting into Dream’s pants. “Now you’re making me regret not making a proper pass at you back then.”

“I would have smote you where you sat for the audacity.”

“Nah. You liked me too much for that, I could tell.”

“Like an unusual bug I had found in the grass,” Dream conceded.

“On that flattering note.” Hob finally got Dream’s jeans properly undone, and pressed his nose to Dream’s pelvis, breathing in with a satisfied hum. Sometimes, Dream smelled of nothing at all in the waking world, like he had forgotten to apply that layer to his ‘human’ skin. Sometimes, he smelled like strange and impossible things, echoing dream scents that would never linger so long on a real, physical body.

Today, he smelled properly human, sweat and musk and Hob’s body wash.

“Are you doing that on purpose?” Hob asked, voice muffled by Dream’s body.

“Am I doing what?”

“You smell good.”

“Ah.” Dream pet Hob’s hair. “Perhaps.”

“Yeah, perhaps. I’m onto you.” He pulled Dream’s jeans down to his upper thigh; Dream obligingly wiggled on the desk to let them free, which was far cuter than it had any right to be. “You’re such a tease.”

“I enjoy when you want me,” said Dream, softer now. And Hob’s heart ached, but in a sweet way, a gentle way.

“You hardly have to work for it,” he said.

He took Dream in his mouth, then, and set to showing him just how much he was wanted.

Dream spread his legs wider on the desk, leaning back, letting out a long sigh of pleasure. Hob loved him like this—loose, indulgent, enjoying himself. Dream didn’t indulge himself enough.

And really, there was nothing Hob loved more than indulging him.

He worked Dream’s cock, licking over him and taking him deeper in increments. Dream’s moan above him was the greatest reward. Hob had had lots of time by now to learn, to get very good at drawing his pleasure out. A most valuable skill, to get Dream’s thighs shaking and his hands clutching tight to Hob’s hair, breathing in deep though he didn’t need to, relishing in the simple illicit pleasure of Hob sucking him off in the middle of the work day.

And Hob loved it, too. The taste of him, and the experience of his enjoyment.

Soon enough Dream’s hips were twitching up, and he came in Hob’s mouth with a long sigh. Hob swallowed him down, and remained there for a few lingering moments, Dream’s prick softening on his tongue, until Dream squirmed from overstimulation and Hob let him go.

He was terribly hard in his trousers, but wanting Dream was its own pleasure to relish in. “Dearest Hob,” murmured Dream, a glint of mischief lighting through the haze of his expression as he pet Hob’s hair. “Should I leave you like that? Wanting, and knowing that I await you at home as you finish your day?”

Hob shivered, but said, “More like go about your work and rematerialize at home once I get there. Don’t pretend like you’ll be tormenting yourself, too.”

“Mmm,” said Dream, “but I could.”

Hob sat up straighter. “Could you? Would you really make yourself wait?”

“Perhaps you will have to find out.”

“How am I supposed to know if you’ve really been good?”

“Hmm,” said Dream. It was a challenge now. “I will show you.”

He vanished, leaving a scattering of sand on Hob’s desk. A few moments later Hob received what he could only describe as a vision, a daydream of Dream lying in their bed, nothing but a pair of lace panties on, idly playing with himself through the fabric with one hand as he read a paperback book with the other. He knew it was really Dream, the image was too crisp to be a creation of Hob’s mind. Apparently, being also all daydreams Dream could make himself into one. Damn creature.

Hob groaned, pressing the heel of his hand hard against his erection before forcing himself to stop. He did have to teach, after all, though he knew Dream was going to be holding that image in his head all day.

Indeed, an impression of Dream’s voice floated to him.

Work hard today, beloved.

Oh, he’d be in for it later.

If Hob survived the workday.

[just-some-trans-nobody]

Yautja X Reader who has stretch marks

I believe someone else has written this prompt before but I've only seen one other before so I wanted to make one too as I really loved what they wrote. Recently I've been working on accepting my stretch marks and learning to love them so I feel like writing this can help me and hopefully other people too.

Warnings: talks of stretch marks, body touching, possible mention of sexual acts, incorrect description of stretch marks

If you feel I missed a warnig please comment or dm me and I will immediately add it.

Minors don't interact this isn't the blog for you!

Contains: yautja absolutely loving their partners body, worshiping their partners body, being possesive space cats, samples of a male and yautja separately but if you want to imagine their both your mates absolutely go for it, no gender specified or in mind, mostly fluff

Written on a phone sorry if it looks odd if your on some other device

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Male Yautja

When he first sees your he does a double take. He thought were scars at first and wanted to know was beast caused them. This poor man was so confused when you explained to him that they weren't scars but in fact stretch marks. You might have to spend a lot of time explaining it to him before he somewaht understands it.

Once he does though he will ask to touch them, he will start to trace them with interest. They do look very cool to him. He had no idea oohman skin did that. It honestly freaks him out a little, at forst he thought it meant you were going to burst out of your own skin, he felt silly for thinking that but with enough kisses he'll get over the foolish thought though it does still linger in the back of his mind.

If you wear clothes to bed that show off your stretch marks my goodness is he purring up a storm as he gently traces them while cuddling you. The stretch marks are greatly soft compared to his scares and it's a texture he rather likes. His oohman is so soft he can't keep his paws off them.

If you ever pull out a body safe marker and start drawing on your stretch marks to accentuate them and he sees?? He is asking. No he is BEGGING to let him trace them for you. He has the most concentrated look on his face, he hasn't even focused this hard on a hunt than he is in this moment. So focused on tracing each little stretch mark. Oh boy if you put your hand on his head like he works it's purr city, he's vibrating like crazy he can hardly hold the marker still.

He is in heaven, if he had a phone it would be filled with pictures of you and your stretch marks. He's never seen anything as beautiful as your before. Your mate is torn though, he wants to show you off to everyone that he has the most amazing mate in the whole universe, but he also wants to keep you all to himself and be the only one who gets to see this amazing part of you. Which one your comfortable with is what he's doing, he never wants to make his little mate uncomfortable.

Will kiss each stretch mark of you let him, please let him he will die of joy of you do.

Female Yautja

Stretch marks? No those are life battle scars.

She knows what they are and stops you when you try to correct her. To her their gained only from living each day so in her mind their your beautiful scars gained from the great battle of life and she's so proud of you.

You could have gotten them from gaining weight, giving birth, working out, absolutely anything she loves each one.

If you have them on your hips or thighs and she sees you with no pants on, she's walking up behind and grabs your hips or thighs rubbing them lightly. She'll have a proid smile on her face as she admires her mate.

She will ask if she can rub oils into them, she has lots of diffrent oils and lotions she takes skin care very serious and wants you too as well. Actually she just wants to touch you but hey if she gets to rub oils into you that's just a bonus.

If anyone ever says something even slightly negative about you or your stretch marks their gone, no ones seeing them ever again. Poof. No one insults her mate. She's flair her mandibles angrily at them first bit later after you've gone to sleep she'll slip out to go deal with the trash.

No doubt if she lives with you she'll hide your clothes. If you have stretch marks on your legs you'll find all your pants suddenly missing, or your shirt if you have them on your shoulders or chest. She'll deny it at first before eventually giving you your clothes back. May or may not keep a shirt though so she can sniff it when she's away.

You have stretch marks on your inner thighs? She wants a closer look, you should totally wrap them around her head so she can get that close look please. May do grabby hands if she's feelimg needy about it. Your comfy and she loves holding you can you blame her for wanting to cuddle you after a hard day? No promises that she won't playfully nip at your thighs.