#of course you could always imagine they were somehow saved last second

[gintrinsic-writing]

CW: restraint, blood, implied vague MCD.

—

There were thirty-four seconds left. Thirty-three. Thirty-two. 

“So,” Dark Link drawled with a smirk, “who’s it going to be, hero?”

Time licked his lips nervously. He shook where he sat. “I…”

“Tick-tock, tick-tock. Come on,” Dark Link goaded, “I don’t have to tell you time’s running out! Choose, or they all die.”

Time’s wrists and ankles were weeping beneath their restraints. Still, he thrashed once more, oblivious to blood pooling beneath him, groaning with despair when his efforts yielded not an inch of freedom. Dark Link merely laughed. 

Twenty-one seconds. Eight heroes suspended over hungry black flames. 

He looked at each of him—at Wind, the youngest, who was so full of life and yet needed in the War of the Ages; at Legend, the veteran, who somehow always found the good worth fighting for; at Sky, the first of them, whose love and devotion created a legacy; at Twilight, Time’s descendant, whose loyalty and protectiveness could surpass even that of a curse; at Hyrule, the mortal child of a fairy, whose resilience was curing the timeline thought to have been abandoned; at Wild, the survivor, whose previous death had only filled him with a greater love for life; at Four, the second hero, whose spirit was too great to be broken; at Wars, the captain, who played the role of brother just as easily as he did hero. 

Time looked at each of them, and he prayed, and he begged, and still the timer drew closer to zero. 

“Well?” Dark Link asked, magic coiling above his fingertips. “Five seconds to go. Who gets to live?”

Time didn’t allow himself to look away. He’d carry this horror forever. He opened his mouth and named—

[aceviscontiswife]

KEN I ABSOLUTELY LOVE UR WORKS.. could i request danny with an survivor who decides to give him a free kill? imagine it this way, the survivor always had a thing for danny, they just have this kind of crush on him, they never feel as afraid in his trials as they do in the others, they think they're able to hide it well, but danny knows it VERY well.

so a trial happens where danny ends up messing a bit, so all survivors manage to escape, except the reader, who decides to give him a free sacrifice, pitying him and also worried about what the entity does with killers when they're hungry!

Pity Kill || Danny Johnson

Thank you so much for the request! You truly don’t know how much this means to me right now. I was going through a really bad writer’s block, and this was exactly what I needed to come back from it. I’m so glad you love my works, hearing compliments like that make me so glad I decided to write! ❤️

GN! Reader, no warnings.

Before we start, if I missed anything you would’ve liked to see, please let me know! I will gladly fix/add anything you like!

Danny felt like tossing his knife aside and sitting in the corner of shack, his arms crossed like a child having a tantrum. This trial hadn’t been going well, it wasn’t a good map for him and his survivors were all playing really well.

Almost all of them hid at the first sight of Danny, aside from you, of course. Danny wasn’t stupid, he’d noticed your behavior this trial—and every other trial with him. Your lingering stares as you were dragged away by terrified survivors, the way you jogged during chase as if you were simply enjoying an afternoon run, and most importantly, the way you sank into him whenever he picked you up. It was as if you enjoyed his presence more than your fellow survivors’. It was adorable.

As more generators were completed, despite Danny’s frequent checks, you had begun to make foolish ‘mistakes’. You’d vault a window slower, even if you’d been running straight for it. You were missing almost every skill check the entity gave you, and you rarely healed your team anymore. Its like you were trying to help Danny. And your plans would’ve worked if your teammates weren’t so damn smart. They’d save you every time he downed you and then drag you off to the farthest side of the map.

The last generator was almost done and, feeling defeated for the first time ever, Danny just went across the map and let the survivors do the generator. When the annoyingly loud horn rang out, Danny pushed himself off of the wall he’d been resting against and began to make his way to the farthest gate from him. He was hoping one survivor would make a stupid mistake, and give Danny just one kill. The entity would punish him for this, and maybe if survivors knew about it, they’d give him the kill he needs.

Fortunately for Danny, someone did know. You’d figured out after back-to-back trials with the Pig. You all escaped her the first trial, and in the next she appeared hurt, scared, and desperate. She ended up tunneling a survivor out before the first generator could even be completed.

Danny had always had a certain affect on you. Even though you rarely interacted with him, you liked him more than most of your other survivors. You thought you hid your feelings well… if only you knew.

“Come on, let’s leave.” Jake interrupts your thoughts, grabbing your arm roughly and leading you towards the gate. This entire trial you’ve been dragged around, and it was beginning to annoy you. You hoped that Ghostface would somehow manage to catch Nea or Jonah, if he did you could probably convince the other survivors to leave them to die. If he couldn’t? Well, you’d find a way to help him.

You curse under your breath when you and Jake come into view of the exit gate. Nea and Jonah were there, the gate only a second away from opening. This wasn’t fair for Danny. He was going to be punished for one bad trial, the thought of the entity hurting him making your blood boil.

The gate opened with a loud ring, and you jerk your arm out of Jake’s grasp as he began to pull you again. He shot you a glare, to which you ignored. You had a plan, a stupid one, but you couldn’t let this happen to Danny. You were going to trick the others into leaving, and then you were going to find Danny and let him hook you.

You ushered the other survivors through the gates barrier, insisting to them that you were going to wait for Ghostface so you could make fun of him. It was a bold lie, but you’d seen other survivors do the same. When you had finally convinced Jonah, who could see right through your lies, you left the safety of the barrier and began thinking on how you’d get Danny’s attention. If you had the upper-body strength, you’d simply hook yourself.

“I could pull down a pallet?” You thought to yourself, eyeing the pallet resting in the doorway to the Temple of Purgation. It would get his attention, but it was a mystery if he’d actually come over there. You cross your fingers and slam the pallet down, cringing at the loud ‘boom!’ That echoed throughout the temple.

Danny watched from shack as most of the survivors made their escape. Everyone except for you. Instead of leaving, you instead left the gate and made your way to the temple. You pull down the pallet and then stand next to it, seemingly waiting for the masked killer to arrive. Danny smirks under his mask, chuckling quietly. You felt bad for him. A survivor… You felt bad for him. How could you truly not care about your survival? Danny thought his previous thoughts of a free kill were jokes, but apparently you took them seriously.

Danny sneaks up behind you, separating the pair of you between the pallet. You were oblivious to his presence, staring out into the rainy skies of the forest. You didn’t look too nervous, but your cheeks were tinted pink and your fingernails were pressing into your legs.

“Boo.” Danny whispers, breaking the pallet that sat between you both. You yelp, jumping back and putting your fists up as if you were going to fight him. Danny laughs, a laugh that had your face beet red and your hands fidgeting.

“Did I scare ya, sweetheart?” Danny leans against the wall, his knife dangling between his fingers. You scoff, rolling your eyes teasingly. “I, uhm, you had a rough trial and I know the entity hurts you, so I’m giving you a kill.” You cut to the point, and even with your voice shaky and quiet because of the killer standing less than a foot away from you, you gave Danny little room to argue. He either sacrificed you, or the entity would.

“Is that so? And what’re your teammates gonna think?” Danny tosses his knife up, catching it by the hilt of its blade. The entity’s patience was steadily going deteriorating, the ground beginning to glow red and the whispers of those lost in the fog growing louder. “I told them I was going to make fun of you. They probably think you killed me.”

Danny takes another step closer to you. “Isn’t that what you want, Dollface? Plus, the way you drool over me, I doubt they believe you’d ‘make fun’ of me.” He was playing with you, sure, but god did he look so hot while doing it. Even covered by a mask, his face a complete mystery to you, you still managed to be head over heels for him. He killed you, time and time again, yet you couldn’t help but fall apart completely when you were in a trial with him. What you didn’t know, or more so what you didn’t hear, was the mental battle Danny had every time he hooked you.

“I-I just don’t want you to get punished… that’s all! Now come on.” That was not all. You turn away from Danny, hiding your now extremely red face. Danny chuckles, walking behind you with his knife tucked away into his cloak. He could easily see past your blatant lie.

“Sure. Who says I even want to hook you?” Danny didn’t want to hook you. Anyone else and he wouldn’t have even spared them the time he spared you. It was undeniably cute when you stopped in your tracks, spinning around with the angriest look on your face Danny’s ever seen. He was aware that you liked him, you were shit at hiding it. And a part of him, deep inside, liked you too.

“You want to get tortured?! I don’t want you to get hurt, you don’t deserve that for a single bad trial.” Danny stifled a laugh as you pointed a finger at his mask, poking the gaping mouth lightly. “But it’s okay if you get killed, of course.” The sarcasm in Danny’s voice was evident, earning him a light tap on the arm.

“Alright, Alright…” Danny raises his hands to surrender, stepping away from you and stopping just beside a hook near the opened exit. “You sure you wanna do this, Dollface?” This was a caring side Danny had never felt before; it confused him in so many ways yet he didn’t try to brush it away.

“Positive. I’m not letting you get hurt because you’re a shitty killer.” Danny shoots you a playful glare from behind his mask as you step up to him, placing your hands on his shoulders to brace yourself. “I-I won’t even scream, unless you want me to.” You shoot him a wink. When Danny’s hands find their way to your waist, you close your eyes and brace yourself for the surge of pain you were about to feel. You swore you heard the masked killer apologize under his breath before he lifted you up and onto the hook.

Staying true to your word, you grit your teeth and clench your fists, clutching Danny’s cloak in your hands. Danny removes his hands from your waist, reaching up to grab the hands that were holding onto him. “Meet me at the border after this, Dollface.” You could hardly hear him as the whispers of the entity flooded your ears. A quick nod was all Danny got in response. Once you got back to the survivors’ realm you would be sure to make your way to the survivor-killer border.

The entity summons, and Danny watches as it slams its claws into your chest. He’d seen this a million times over, but this was different. It was almost as if he could feel your pain. As he watched your body dissipate into a black mist and the entity carry away your soul, he made a mental promise to himself:

He would never hook you again. Entity’s punishments be damned.

***

I’m a sucker for soft a Danny who’s confused about what he’s feeling and what he’s doing, it honestly makes me giggle and kick my feet. I hope you enjoy this request, and once again, thank you so much! You truly don’t know how much I needed this. ❤️

[myunconquerablesoul]

We will be okay.

s.gojo x gn!reader

Warnings: mentions of gojo being cut in half (but nothing to detailed or specific), Bad dream. Happy End, I promise!

Wordcount: 806

You don't know what time it is. 

You didn't dare to move to look at the clock, either. The only thing that mattered was the sleeping figure beside you.

You couldn't even scream after waking up. You've awoken with a panic that left you paralyzed. But the moment your eyes fell on Saturo, you seemed to be frozen on the spot.

Ever since then, you didn't move.

Simply looking at him.

Untill now, you could not push yourself to touch him. Too big the fear that he was just a fragment of your wishful imagination.

He was facing you, his chest rising and falling.

You took a deep breath, let a shaky one out, and somehow found the courage to lightly touch Saturo's face.

You almost choked on the sob that threatened to come out. 

He was real.

Saturo was home. He was alive and well…

You turned to lay on your back, trying to gain composter.

You didn't want to wake him. It was the most sleep he got in weeks.

Your vision filled with tears again. Fealing your panic rise just thinking about your dream again. You could feel yourself trembling, the weight of it all hitting you again and again.

Saturo lying on the ground, his waist cut in half as his legs remained standing, and his left arm cut as he coughed up blood.

"I-I'm so… sorry…"

Fuck… it all felt too real. 

"Baby?" Saturo's hand gently pulled you out of your trance. 

You couldn't hold it in anymore. Everything you tried to suppress bubbled up the surface the second you saw those Azure eyes.

He pulled you in his embrace. "Shhh, it's okay, beautiful. I'm here…" He slowly made you sit with him on the bed. You cling to him like a lifeline.

"It was just a dream, love. I'm here- I'll always be with you."

Your cries of desperation and grief did not subside, and Saturo could do nothing more than protectively hold you against his chest and let you cry. 

He never let go the entire time you were crying on his shoulder. He occasionally kissed the top of your head and whispered sweet nothings into your ear to comfort you while stroking your hair.

Saturo knew exactly why you were in the state you're currently in. It was all still fresh in your mind. 

Him being sealed, Megumi being possessed by Sukuna, Saturo getting freed, Sukuna using Megumis's body to fight him, eventually killing him, and Saturo miraculously coming back to life, saving Megumi and somehow ending Sukuna.

It was all too much; he couldn't blame you. 

To be honest, he believes that it's all his fault really. If he just hadn't fallen for that trap... maybe things would have gone differently.

"I'm sorry for scaring you like that." he whispered. Trying his best to comfort you was all he could do. He felt so helpless.

Saturo didn't know how much time passed until you somewhat calmed down. "I- I'm sorry. I didn't mean to wake you." he shook his head slightly. Of course, these have to be your first words to him. 

Always putting everyone else before you. Even when you're the one needing to be comforted.

"Nonsense. Next time, wake me up, Baby." You just nodded your head. And Saturo did his best to brush your reminding tears away.

He would hold you for as long as you need. 

"You don't know how scared I was..." You hated how fragile your voice was, how weak it sounded. 

"You can't leave me like that 'toru… I need you. I need you here, with me." not exactly knowing what to say, Saturo leans forward and warily presses his lips to the crown of your head. He still didn't let go. 

He couldn't help but tear up, too. It wasn't easy for him. Seeing you suffer like this because of him. You, Tsumiki, Megumi, and many more had to endure all this because of him. 

Then he leans down to give you a kiss on your lips. His eyes closed, hoping to give you every last drop of his sympathy. Hoping to project everything he could not bring himself to say with a kiss.

You can feel everything he tries to communicate. 

You are not alone. I am here, and I am with you. I'm glad to be here. I'm sorry you had to go through all of this because of me. Megumi will be okay. Tsumiki too. We will be okay. I'm sorry...

When he pulls away, his thumb is stroking your cheek, his eyes full of emotion, but the only thing he can form into words is, "I love you so much."

But you understand him perfectly. Every hidden meaning and feeling.

And for the first time in a while, you believe it: We will be okay.

[loneberry]

Baby's First Meditation Retreat

…attention is prayer. —Simone Weil

It would be simpler—the monastic life would be so much simpler. Wake, pray, meditate, do battle with the ego, eat, sleep—live such that everything inessential is stripped away. Why did you come here, I said, I’m tired of living a distracted life, of going through my days in a fog of unawareness.

In Cambridge, MA I attended a meditation retreat. I signed up on a whim, out of a vague feeling that I have lost control of my mind. I have been meditating very casually for the last nine years, mostly using the Calm app, listening to Tara Brach recordings, and attending guided meditations while a grad student. I had come to the practice out of desperation, in the midst of a debilitating depression that made me feel perpetually tormented by my thoughts. During that time, I would voraciously read every study I could find on depression treatments and tried basically every treatment modality out there: neurofeedback, ketamine, therapeutic yoga, medication, CBT, DBT, fish oil, an anti-inflammatory diet, psychedelics, and the “treatment” that ultimately saved me: intensive psychoanalysis four days a week. Meditation seemed a particularly promising and low-risk way to manage depression and anxiety—and yes, it did bring me some relief, working as a kind of supplement to the psychoanalysis. Even though I haven’t been as consistent about it as I would have liked, I continued to practice it regularly, usually for about 10-20 minutes a day. Not once have I regretted meditating, though when life gets busy it’s easy to tell yourself that you just don’t have the time to sit and do nothing, even though we seem to somehow always have the time to mindlessly surf the internet. 

What is there to say. I’m just so tired of living on autopilot, of not having to face the moment, to face myself. There are a million ways to blot out one’s internal monologue, filling up our days with the background chatter of podcasts or social media. 

The recrudescence of my Simone Weil mania has forced me to reflect on attention—that rare quality of mind which is increasingly in short supply. And yet everything is a matter of attention—not because attention can be instrumentalized to achieve one’s goals. No. Attention is the end in itself. Weil: “We have to try to cure our faults by attention and not by will.” It’s in that second-to-second awareness that reverence for the moment blossoms. The fog is lifting. Here is the trembling world, a cloud passing, the dancing light on the pavement as the sun passes through the rustling leaves of the tree. Weil: “Attention, taken to its highest degree, is the same thing as prayer. It presupposes faith and love.” 

*

I landed in Boston late Friday night and early the next morning was off to the Zen center for the silent two-day retreat. I really did not know what to expect when I signed up. I knew a little about the different schools of Buddhism from studying it in a course as an undergrad. I remember being slightly afraid of “Zen” (or Chan) in particular because it seemed so severe to me. I imagined interminable zazen sessions, without guidance or visualizations; imagined slouching pupils getting whacked with sticks for bad posture or falling asleep. Yet surely if I were to test the Buddhist waters, I should do Zen/Chan since it is a specifically Chinese tradition? My father’s uncle was a Buddhist monk who wandered the mountains of China. I don’t know anything about him, other than his sister (my grandma) was devastated when he died after getting hit by a train. Whether it was suicide or just a manic pixie monk moment, I do not know.

*

Some meditation retreats are completely secular—they are just like a series of long, guided mindfulness sessions, with the context, rituals, and “religious” dimensions stripped away. This was not really that kind of retreat. There were robes, chants in Korean, elaborate meal rituals, and yes, getting whacked with a stick! Of course it is always possible to opt out of getting hit with the keisaku stick—I thought I would, but in the end I took the whacking almost every time it was offered, partly because it jolted me awake and relieved the tension building up in my body from hours and hours of sitting cross-legged on a cushion. The first couple of times the keisaku whacking was administered, I had to restrain myself from laughing. Oh my God, we’re getting whacked by a Buddhist master! In the orientation the instructor said it was for “tension release” but I did feel that it was something like a ritual of submission to the authority of the teacher, even if it didn’t really hurt. Watching how eagerly D. bowed to receive the stick in the orientation, I wondered if the Zen pupils were secretly sadomasochists. 

Constitutionally, I am not a “joiner” and have an aversion to organized religion and anything that emits even a whiff of cult vibes. I’ve always been critical of authority and incapable of following rules, possibly because I didn’t have any growing up. But there was something soothing about how regimented everything was. We performed our actions in sync, chanted about emptiness at 4:30am. The whole experience felt almost militaristic, but a part of me enjoyed the austere, disciplinary atmosphere and the obsessive attention to detail. Not disciplinary in a punitive sense, but disciplinary in the way I imagine Russian classical music training to be: the methodical pursuit of self-mastery (it’s hardly surprising that the Zen master I received instruction from was a classically trained pianist). During the retreat I concluded that more discipline would be good for me.

Most of the retreat consisted of meditating in silence. There was no small talk, no psychobabble, no “now we will get started…”—he just hits the wooden clapper three times, and the sitting session starts. No guidance, no body-scan, no loving-kindness prompts. Just you, seated cross-legged on the cushion in silence, facing the tumult of your chaotic mind, your hands in the Dhyana Mudra position, your eyes half-closed. 

It is a profound and difficult experience, having to face your own mind…both utterly banal and deeply disturbing, thoughts flitting from “maybe I should try to find a used bicycle on the OfferUp app” to thoughts of my parents’ mortality. I was warned by the Zen teacher that difficult emotions might bubble up. Thrice I broke out into tears and strained to regain my composure. It began during one of the short breaks, when I was lying on a bench outside looking up at the sky, imagining that a passing cloud was a life appearing briefly before dissipating. It was an unmediated confrontation with the eternal flux of the universe—pure panta rhei. 

Weil: “Whatever frightful thing may happen, can we desire that time should stop, that the stars should be stayed in their courses? Time’s violence rends the soul: by the rent eternity enters.” Time’s violence has utterly and completely ripped apart my soul. I wanted to hold onto everyone and everything I love, for the stars to be stayed in their courses, for time to stop, for my parents to live forever. I thought about Mari Ruti’s rapid decline and death, about my recent visit to my older brother in prison, and my trip to my relatives’ assisted living home, where my mother’s cousin has been completely waylaid by the rapid onset of Parkinson’s disease. I thought about my father sitting down in the chair looking out the window at the assisted living home, talking about getting old, how his knees ache now. Time’s violence rends the soul.Will I be strong enough to face the eternal flux, the impermanence of everything I love, with a fierceness that borders on madness, grieving even the eventual death of the Sun? Sitting on the cushion meditating, crying: let go. Will I ever be able to let go with grace? Don’t know. Sink into don’t-know mind. Count the breath. Something passes through me.

What did I see, what did I hear—I heard every exhibit of the Museum of Jurassic Technology: the voice imploring us to follow the chain of flowers into the mysteries of life, the burbling waters of the miniature model of Iguazú Falls, a recording of David Wilson talking about exploding dice, the distant echoes of barks in the bestiary room, the mournful sound of the duduk in Djivan Gasparyan’s “Lovely Spring” playing the Sandaldjian room, Monteverdi’s “Lamento della Ninfa” as I ascend the stairs to the sublime courtyard, Bach’s “Ich ruf zu dir, Herr Jesu Christ” in the ‘Ecstatic Journey of Konstantin Tsiolkovsky’ exhibit (impossible not to see the levitation scene from Tarkovsky’s Solaris when hearing BWV 639), Mihály Víg’s “Valuska” in The Borzoi Kabinet Theater at the end of the day, and the sound of David’s nyckelharpa reverberating in the garden. 

Now the birds of the mind are taking flight.

In, out. In, out. Return to the breath. 

The mind opening like a door to the sky

            a deep purple flower unfolding in the emptiness.

List everything you see, her feet standing on the lotus. 

Clear mind

Clear mind

Clear mind

Don’t know.

(In) 1-2-3-4 (out) 5-6-7-8

Κύριε Ἰησοῦ Χριστέ ἐλέησόν με 

The heart

The heart

The spherical heart of the manatee

Thoughts and thoughts and thoughts and thoughts

like waves, saturating the swash zone of the mind…

It’s the weekend of the Perseid meteor shower. Eight years ago, Ed and I watched them from the dock of a Maine pond. We had rented an Airbnb from a man with the same name as a dear poet friend of mine, Dana Ward. (I was dreaming of Dana when I woke up this morning.) A week after the Maine trip, I was at the mental hospital. I had forgotten I had a poetry reading. The woman organizing it called, wondering where I was. 

Eight years have passed me in the blink of an eye. 

Thoughts.

In

out

In

out

In 10-30 second intervals: nothing. Just the space between thoughts.

There were two states of non-self:

one of calm neutrality—just the is-ness of the world.

The other, something more ecstatic:

a mystical amnesia, when you become the contraction and expansion of the breath.

What is there to say about it? In my stead there was a heaving purple cloud floating in a black room.

Then, the “I” coheres again. Head so full of language, thinking about everything I want to write. “I shouldn’t be so attached to my thoughts.” The teacher says in the interview: it’s not about suppression.

Writers are fundamentally hoarders of thoughts. I try to collect each one, as the squirrel does the acorns. In my head I am writing an essay about the antidepressant withdrawals, my astonishment that I did not relapse as David Foster Wallace did when he committed suicide after tapering off his antidepressant. I remember when my thoughts were stuck on the “I want to die” loop, how Ed installed the ad blocker on my internet browser because he was disturbed by the suicide hotline targeted ads. I do not think such thoughts anymore. Maybe it is true—we are not our thoughts. They pass through my mind like water through the sieve. Did Woolf train herself to observe the stream? Too much thinking. I must be doing it wrong. Wrong again—I’m supposed to suspend judgment. 

I hear my friend Tim saying, “the mathematics section is the most mystical part of the library.”

Then Weil says, “As soon as we have a point of eternity in the soul, we have nothing more to do but to take care of it, for it will grow of itself like a seed. It is necessary to surround it with an armed guard, waiting in stillness, and to nourish it with the contemplation of numbers…” 

Now I’m thinking about the relationship between math and mysticism, about the Indian number theorist Srinivasa Ramanujan, who received, in his dreams, thousands of formulas from the Hindu Goddess Namagiri. Ramanujan: “An equation for me has no meaning unless it expresses a thought of God.”

I remember my poem “Umbra,” in which I reference the French mathematician Alexander Grothendieck’s strange book, La Clef des Songes (‘The Key of Dreams’). As one commenter puts it: “It’s a book about God. Grothendieck’s thesis is simple. We meet God in dreams. But we aren’t ourselves dreaming God, rather God Himself is dreaming us. Or better: according to Grothendieck ‘a Dreamer’ exists, an external force who ‘dreams our dreams’ and at the same time dreams us. And this force can only be God. … he declares, in a little footnote that it’s almost hidden, that mathematics wasn’t ‘created by God’ nor by man, but by an aspect of God’s nature that, unique among his attributes, is accessible to human reason.”

A week ago, I was telling Alex about Oppenheimer’s mysticism, his proficiency in Sanskrit and intensive study of the Bhagavad Gita, his “feeling for the mystery of the universe that surrounded him almost like a fog.” I watched Christopher Nolan’s Oppenheimer biopic with Alex—a mathematician/mathematical physicist—and my father—an almost-physicist who immigrated to the U.S. from Taiwan to do a physics PhD in Wyoming but dropped out after his first year to move to NYC to wait tables at a Chinese restaurant. After the film, we watched a documentary about Sir Isaac Newton’s heretical theology and alchemical studies, how he read the Bible as a cryptogram and determined the world will end in 2060.

Could there be a connection between mathematics and the capacity for the divine, between the abstraction of mathematical thinking and the ability to sense the invisible, to see the hidden points that connect disparate realms? Wasn’t Einstein a Spinozist?

Scraps of language jostle around in my mind like a shaking bowl of coins. Stupid thoughts like, “Lacan is to psychoanalysis as Zen is to Buddhism.”

I see myself thinking about the news, about geopolitics and the madness of nation states. China is preparing their population for war, as are we. A kind of nausea overcomes me, as I see the whole nuclear age unfurl before me. 

We dwell on whatever we expose ourselves to, the articles we read, the people we see, the people we lurk online, the reflex to compare, to repeat the name of the Other like a mantra. 

Everything you think you need, you don’t actually need.

A butterfly has somehow flown into the Dharma room. It flits on the floor in the middle of the room. The teacher scoops it up and brings it outside. She corrects my dreadfully sloppy attempt to perform the meal ritual. I panic because I’ve taken too much food and must eat every last crumb. The pear is not ripe, and it is a torture to eat the whole thing. The pear is not ripe—a Zen lesson! Mastication of the unripe pear, a kind of koan. 

There was a short break. I decided to walk around Central Square, without a wallet or phone or headphones. 

How can I describe the sense of aliveness I felt in that moment, that alert receptivity, when I looked at the sky and saw the birds of Central Square taking flight above the Greek Orthodox Church? I walked up the stairs—some ceremony is taking place inside. Down the streets, there’s a brunch spot I never knew about in the seven years I lived in this town. There’s the sound of a busker, so sweet, and a flower shop I wandered into. There’s the bus stop I would wait at on my way to psychoanalysis. I cross the street. Emanating from a building on Mass Ave is the rhythmic thud of Latin American music—it must be the music-dance sessions my ethnomusicologist friend told me about years ago.  

Before dawn on the second day, we perform 108 prostrations. It turns my legs to Jell-O. When I walk up the stairs to use the bathroom, I have to grasp the banister to drag myself up. A few days later I can still barely walk from the soreness caused by the rapid-fire prostrations. Was there something off about my form? I noticed that the others relied more on their arms to hoist themselves up, while I relied almost exclusively on my legs.

And yet I quite enjoy prostrating myself. Outside of any religious or ritual context, I sometimes find myself spontaneously performing prostrations—to what or whom, I do not know. To the earth? I like to kiss the ground, to give thanks to this marvelous rock on which we all dwell. 

*

The interview with the Zen teacher takes a bizarre turn: she asks me questions about DeSantis, in a ‘liberals-trying-to-commiserate’ kind of way. My hatred of DeSantis is bottomless—I had just flown in from Florida the night before the retreat. Please, anything but a DeSantis koan! She asks me if it annoys me that she has been correcting my attempt to execute the meal ritual. I say, No, I don’t mind being an amateur, and crack a joke about being an adult music learner. When the short interview is over, I return to the silence of the Dharma room.

Sitting in silence for long periods is much harder than it looks. Yet the second day feels easier than the first day, despite being on day three of almost no sleep. Toward the end of the retreat, I stare at a spot on the floor, convinced it is a moving bug. It jiggles and jerks, walks in a circle, but always seems to return to the same spot. I can’t stop observing the bug. At the end of the sit, I lean in to get a closer look only to realize it’s not a bug at all, but a dark spot in the wood flooring. 

When the retreat is over, there’s the shock of hearing everyone’s voices, of realizing you had projected otherworldliness on people who are just people in the way you are just a person. We sit in a circle and take turns sharing our experiences. I say, “I came on a whim…because I watched YouTube videos about Buddhism with my dad.” We eat vegan pie at the table. The girlfriend of the man sitting next to me has come to meet him, with roses.

I grab my backpack, put on my Blundstones, and leave the center, in the soft afterglow of the mind’s clearing. What did it feel like: I had no desire to look at my phone. Turning on my phone was almost painful, and yet I needed to call the friend I was staying with. I met up with the religious studies poets, felt more present with others, more natural. We tried to go to the Harvard Film Archive to watch Ozu but were turned away for arriving late. We sat on a rooftop terrace to watch the sunset, with a view of the two spires of Harvard Yard, Memorial Church and Memorial Hall. Sun through the leaves, perceived crisply, as though a layer of mediation had been removed.

[hanasnx]

Imma jus keep flooding your ask box bec that's just how I am🏃🏾‍♀️ but this tiktok has me thinking.... imagine an au where anakin is a mandalorian...??? Like hear me out on that😮‍💨😩

Love the og mando but it can always be better with my fave Skywalker </3

link

hello vana! can you pls tell me your secret as to how your asks live rent free in my head???? you are welcome to flood my inbox anytime

im not joking. this one and the last one ive thought of periodically since i read them

i found this post a bit ago of mando!anakin <3 thought youd like it: mandalorian fanart link

☥ i have a huge suit and mask kink if you cant tell already im a mess over dudes in full head to toe gear bonus points if theyre stoic and only speak when absolutely necessary. fucking delicious i eat it up everytime.

☥ anakin’s canon personality kinda fits with that of mando from the show. gravely serious, quiet and calculative in strategic situations, no patience for nonsense, acquires a child and- after fighting the decision- grows attached to it, fierce loyalty to his family.

☥ mando’s armor is so fucking hot oh my fucking god i want him to do me with the helmet on and then imagining anakin underneath it all>???? i feel faint.

☥ imagine him being a bounty hunter eeeeeee

☥ like you two come across each other like you were sitting at the bar and he comes up to talk to the bartender if she’s seen a certain face around. you love the sound of his voice omffmggm, you can tell theres a slight mod to it and it just adds to the rasp. the bartender asks him to wait a second while she goes to the back. so you turn on the charm,

“bounty hunter?”

he pivots his head, marginally. and gives a single slow nod. you smile at him, down your drink.

“big fan of bounty hunters, one time a hunter saved my sister. would love to buy you a drink.”

“can’t. working.”

“afterwards? we both know you’re gonna catch that sleazebag you’re tracking. you look like the type that doesn’t stop til he gets what he wants, right?”

oh, how right you were.

he doesn’t say anything, so you assume it’s not a no. “mandalorian armor… would love to know what you look like under it all.” generously, you eyes travel him from boots to helmet.

“how do you know i’m not one of those guys that’s vowed to keep the helmet on?”

finally, a sentence. you must’ve caught his attention. “i wouldn’t mind that.” your ambiguous flirt left room to his imagination. having implied that it didn’t matter if he kept the helmet on, just as long as you got to see his cock pistoning into you. that was a little too forward for this kind of interaction.

he bows his head, and you envision the way he must be looking at you through his brows. either intrigued or appalled. the guessing game thrills you to say the least.

you point out his mark to him, behind the two of you, sucking on the neck of a twi’lek. “you owe me, hunter.” it was a harmless joke.

the twinkling of a couple credits sounds against the bar counter.

“for your next drink.” he answers your questioning glance.

☥ maybe by making your attraction to him apparent enough, he says fuck it, and after catching and collecting his bounty that very night, he comes back to the bar to see if you’re still there.

☥ maybe you somehow convince him to do you in the dark alley behind the disreputable bar. to your delight, he let you take off his helmet so he could fuck your mouth with his tongue while he slipped his cock out of the confines of his armor and fuck you for real. it’s not like his line of work allows for any time for himself, and the warmth of a willing woman is few and far in between. of course he melts into you once you say the right things. falls for how desperate and noisy your pussy is, slurping him up. sinking into your wet heat and panting into each others mouths.

☥ appearances didn’t matter to you much, and you were buzzed enough to not care. however, imagine your pleasant surprise to see someone so fucking pretty hiding underneath the mask.

☥ imagine yall start a fun little fwb relationship after this so he can fuck all his frustrations out using you <3

[itsclydebitches]

clyde help, apparently the 'don't come back' scene from winter was supposed to be directed at RWBYJ telling them not to come back because the people they 'sacrificed their lives to save' were turning on each other and 'wasting that opportunity' so she doesn't want them to see how the people they saved were failing them and somehow that's even more dumb than when i thought it was supposed to be directed at ironwood 😭😭😭

https://twitter.com/dontyoudarryn/status/1677868440437104640

I saw the tweet (a day after I’d written up my thoughts on it being about Ironwood ofc lol) and god, idek what to do with this. On the one hand yay, I’m legitimately glad they didn’t include Ironwood just so Winter could desecrate his portion of the grave like that, with the added implication that he might come back in Volume 10. It’s a good thing the epilogue hasn’t opened that can of worms. On the other hand... literally what the fuck, Winter? That’s SUCH a crazy thing to do! I get that she’s disappointed in how people are treating one another after getting a second chance at life—even though there’s a boatload of context there like, “It’s the heroes who put them in this position in the first place” and “That position is being indefinite refugees at the end of the world. Of COURSE people are stressed and fighting each other”—but who expresses their frustration like that? At least, I always want to clarify, without the story itself calling her out on it. That’s a memorial to the fallen! Unless there are a number of different graves that we’re just not shown (doesn’t look that way) Winter is using her super special protect-the-world powers to desecrate a communal grave. She’s not even doing that out of hatred for her abusive father, or the turned-villain former boss she helped kill... she’s saying “Don’t come back” to her sister.

“But Clyde, she means it in a nice way because there’s nothing good to return to—” no. Stop. It’s just straight up weird and insulting. This message implies that Winter straight up cannot understand human nature and the peoples’ need to acclimate to their new circumstances, especially when they're still in grave danger (she wouldn’t last five minutes with Ozpin’s quest lol). It implies that she cares more about her reputation as a successful hero than her sister and her sister’s friends’ lives. If given the choice, her message is saying, “Better that you be dead than see that things aren’t perfect”—and isn’t that just a summary of everything post-Volume 5. The message implies that Winter cares more about her own selfish need to vent in a permanent, insulting way than being respectful of the, again, implied to be communal memorial.

Imagine for a moment that irl someone’s sibling died in battle, a battle that didn’t decide the war. Mere minutes after the community established a grave for everyone that died, they take a chisel to it and write “Don’t come back,” then try to play that off as a good, loving thing to do because don't you see? They'd be ashamed of us as we imperfectly struggle to survive! It's better for our loved ones to stay dead than see us lash out at one another during the most stressful moment in Remnant history!

If RWBY has any sort of self-awareness the group would arrive in Vacuo, see that message, very understandably assume it was written by an angry civilian, and Winter would be all “Uh....😬" If RWBY were even slightly better written, that message would have been put there by an angry civilian, rather than all these supposedly fallible people treating Ruby like a messiah. After all, it’s very convenient that Winter is so disgusted with their behavior she does this, but their behavior, of course, doesn’t extend to questioning whether the teenager who dropped them here after terrifying the world with a vague, manipulative message did a good job. The refugees are so ashamedly angry... but none of that anger is directed toward the huntresses that dropped them in the middle of a grimm sandstorm outside a Kingdom that hates them. So Ruby has a "Remember her message" memorial created by ignorant strangers and Weiss has her memorial desecrated by her in-the-loop sister. RWBY... you've got it backwards again...

[starryevermore]

to the ends of the galaxy ✧ commander cody

angst city™ library | send in a request (consult request faqs first)

request: Commander Cody trying to find the bad batch, but in his search finds the reader, who is a Jedi that escaped order 66 and was part of Obi-Wans attack battalion. They end up spilling their unrequited feelings for one another - @captainsbestgal​

pairing: commander cody x fem!jedi!reader

summary: when cody tries to find the bad batch, you end up finding him. 

word count: 1,723

warnings?: love confessions, mutual pining, not proofread

and back again (PART 2)

Since leaving the Empire, Cody was always on edge. For good reason, of course. He knew the risk of leaving, of going AWOL. He weighed that risk and the benefits of getting out while he had the chance. Ultimately, leaving was his only option. Cody refused to sacrifice his morals for a corrupt government. That was not the kind of man he was. That was not the kind of man he was interested in becoming. But nevertheless, being on the run felt like the ultimate stealth mission. 

What was worse, perhaps, was trying to find his brothers that were also on an ultimate stealth mission. Sure, the official report was that Clone Force 99 perished on Kamino. But Cody didn’t believe that for a second. His brothers were too damn good at what they did to go out like that. Especially when they had the girl, their sister, to protect. No, Clone Force 99 was still out there somewhere, and Cody was going to find them. 

Instead, he found someone a little more…interesting? Surprising? 

He was at some bar on some backwater planet. Cody learned early on that those were the best kind of places to find out about where people might be hiding. So, he took up residence in some corner booth, ignoring the drink that had been placed in front of him by a waitress that had been keen on flirting with him. He had more important things to do than entertain advances. He needed to find his brothers. 

Someone slid into the booth, one of their knees bumping against his. Cody turned, ready to tell them to leave, when his breath caught in his throat. No. It couldn’t be… Could it? 

“If you’re trying to keep a low profile,” you said, face turned so that only he could see you, your hood covering the view of your face from the rest of the bar, “you’re doing a real bang-up job of it.”

“What?”

“Already counted three bounty hunters itching to dig their claws into the pretty clone trooper who went AWOL.” You glanced away from him. You frowned, watching someone that he couldn’t quite see. “Make that four.”

“I don’t understand—”

“C’mon, Commander, I know you’re not stupid!” There was an almost teasing lilt in your voice, hidden beneath the sternness. He wanted to question it, but you already slipped your hand into his, tugging him out of the booth. “Act like we’re madly in love. We might just get outta here alive.”

Cody’s face felt like it was on fire. If he was honest, he had dreamed about what it might be like to see you again, to find out had somehow miraculously survived the Order. He never imagined it would be like this. Though, he mused, a lot had changed since he saw you last. 

You let out a laugh as you walked through the bar, still hand-in-hand. When you neared the door, you leaned your head against his shoulder, moving your hand so you were now clutching his bicep. Cody let out of a laugh, too, trying not to act too stiff. You were saving his ass, it seemed. He couldn’t mess this shit up. 

“My place or yours?” he asked. It was an appropriate question for the circumstances, in case anyone was still paying attention to the seemingly in love couple stumbling out of the bar. 

“Mine,” you said, batting your eyelashes up at him. Cody’s heart stuttered in his chest. Kriff, he needed to get a hold of himself. You were playing a part. It didn’t mean anything (no matter how much he wanted it to). 

Cody let you take the lead. You guided him down the dusty streets, toward an inn on the edge of town. While the two of you walked, Cody tried to steady himself. No matter how much this seemed like the plot in a cheesy holonovel, he reminded himself, this wasn’t anything like that. You were a friend, an ally. Someone that was just watching his back. While his judgment was being clouded by his affection for you, it didn’t mean you felt the same. (Though, he admittedly couldn’t stop himself from wondering if you still had to follow the Jedi Code when the Jedi have fallen.) 

Your room at the inn wasn’t anything spectacular. A simple bed, a packed bag resting on a near-rotting chair. Were you living out of a suitcase? Never staying in a place long enough to fully unpack? Or were you about to leave and only stopped when you saw him? (Or, had you been following him? Watching his back? Waiting for the right moment to make your presence known? Did your Force abilities let you know he’d gone AWOL?)

Instead of asking any of those questions, or the thousands of others, floating in his mind, he chose to ask “How are you alive?” as you shut the door. 

You arched a brow at him. “Obi-Wan helped me escape the Order. I’ve been on the run since. Stuck mostly to the Outer Rim, places where the Empire hasn’t yet touched.” 

Cody’s heart thumped harder. He was alive? He was okay? Cody didn’t kill one of his closest friends? “Obi-Wan is still alive?”

“I don’t know for sure,” you admitted. “We went our separate ways. I don’t know what has become of him, just as he doesn’t know about me.”

“You can’t use the Force to tell?”

“He shut himself off from the Force,” you explained. You looked away from Cody, your face falling. “I can’t say I blame him. Every day, I consider cutting myself off, too.”

Cody’s hand twitched. He wanted to reach out, offer you a comforting touch. But, he worried that you wouldn’t like that. You lost everything, everyone, because of the actions of him and his brothers. He was sure you understood why, that they were following orders, but…Well, he knew if the roles were reversed, if the Jedi turned against the clones, he would feel deeply comfortable at best and enraged at worst. So, he kept his hands at his side.

“About that—” Cody cleared his throat, turning his gaze down towards his feet. “I wanted…I wanted to apologize for what happened. If, if I had known that everything would have gone the way it did, I would have disobeyed the Order the second it was given. I thought I was doing what was right. I know now that I was wrong, and I will spend every day trying to make up for that.”

You took a step toward him, standing right in front of him. You reached up, cupping his chin, tilting his head up so he would look you in the eyes. He fought the urge to nuzzle into the warmness of your hand. (Oh, how he had dreamed of you touching him so gently, so sweetly.) “It’s not your fault, Cody.” He opened his mouth to protest, but you kept talking. “I…I ran into Rex, after everything that happened. He said that all of the clones have chips in their heads that forced them follow the Order. It wasn’t your fault. There was no way for you to control it. Okay? I know the guilt is a heavy burden to carry, but the let the knowledge of it being beyond your control at least lighten it.”

Cody’s jaw clenched. Tears pricked at his eyes. Kriff. He couldn’t cry in front of you. He just couldn’t. He squeezed his eyes shut, but allowed himself to nuzzle into your hand, which had moved to cradle his cheek. 

“You are still a good man, Cody,” you said. “You always have been. I would not be here if you weren’t. I would not be so fond of you if you weren’t.”

“You…” He paused, his words catching his throat. He let out a shaky breath.“You’re fond of me?”

“How could I not be?”

“Because you’re a Jedi, and I’m just a clone. Another face in the Empire’s army.” Ever since the Empire replaced the Republic, the old insecurity had slowly crept up on him. It only got worse as he was forced to remove the yellow paint from his armor, as the Empire only referred to him as CC-2224 instead of his name. Then, when the Empire expected him to follow orders blindly like a mindless soldier, to never question what he was told, he felt little different than a droid.

“But you’re not, are you? You have always stood out, Cody. You and all of your brothers.” You leaned your forehead against his, your breath fanning over your face. “Can I admit something to you?”

“Always.”

“I used to dream, more often than I might care to admit, of leaving the Jedi Order with you. Of us finding a place to call our own. A small, little farm somewhere, perhaps.” You looked away for a moment. “Rex told me once about how one of your brothers, Cut, had fled, that he started a family on Saleucami. I often dreamed that we might to the same.”

Cody’s heart thumped harder, harder, harder. Before he could process what he was saying, he admitted, “If you had given the word, I would have followed you to the ends of the galaxy.”

A small smile pulled at the corner of your lips. “Would you still?”

“You just have to give me the word.”

Your hands fell from his face, coming to rest now on his hips. Tentatively, he wrapped his arms around you. (Oh, he liked this. He liked the feeling of you in his arms.) “You’re looking for Clone Force 99, right?” When he nodded, you said, “Lucky you, I have a ship and a decent lead on where they are, if you would like.”

Cody let out a laugh. “And how did you manage to find them?”

“I’m better at gathering intel than you,” you said. You laughed, too. “And while you were busy being noticed by all the bounty hunters, I saw a news report of a new Riot Racer named Tech on Safa Toma. Figured there can’t be too many Techs in the galaxy, can there?”

Cody smiled. “Well, lead the way, Master Jedi.”

“And you’ll follow? All the way to the ends of the galaxy?”

“All the way to the ends of the galaxy.”

and back again (PART 2)

[eashmo]

7 minutes in hell, or is it heaven? Part 11 💋

-You Taste Devine-

Warnings: Smut!, fluff, and lots of angst. Billy forever being a soft Lil bean to y/n.

A/n: Sorry for not posting chapters. i was actually finally watching the show, also I've been distracted on watching the witcher for the first time as well, sooo yea. Also, sorry if ya'll don't have a daddy kink.

So the date seems short to me, because I wanted to write the smut more because I'm a hoe 🤣

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Rolling over onto my side, I wanted to face him to admire the curves of nose and jawline with my fingers, I want to constantly touch him somehow. Watching how his eyes flutter in his sleep as i touched him, touching his addicting lips, touching his hair that glowed in the morning sun. Thinking about prom and last night's activities, I was smiling like an idiot because of this man in front of me.

Suddenly, feeling his hand on my wrist, the grip was tight but not inflicting pain. He didn't say anything. He just kissed each of my fingers slowly, his eyes still closed.

"What do you think you're doing, princess?" He says in a husky morning voice. opening his eyes.

My cheeks were getting red for being caught. He grins and leans in, watching intently. I lower my eyes, suddenly intimated by the strength of his gaze.

He reaches out, gently nudging my chin up. "Are you blushing?" He asks in a teasing light tone.

"I-i don't know what you mean," I insist weakly as a smile slowly spreads across his face. His thumbs move across my cheeks as he chuckles. Fully grinning as he held my face, i gasped a little at the rare sight. I always felt like I had saved the world in my past life to be able to witness that smile.

"Let me take you on a date tonight."

"Can we go to the skating rink?!"

He chuckles, "As you wish, princess." He leans into me once more, capturing his lips with mine.

Neither of us heard a car pulling up, keys jingling as the front door opening, or the footsteps coming up the stairs, nor my bedroom door opening.

"Y/n, dear, I thought I would – oh my!" hearing a familiar voice of my mom, I shoved Billy off of me, making him fall to the ground taking the comforter with him with a loud thud, wincing as I heard a groan of pain from him.

"Mom!" I tried to cover my naked body with other blankets. 

"Hello, Mrs. y/l/n ,” Billy greets smoothly,  finally standing up from his place on the floor, wrapping the comforter around his naked waist, taking my moms hand, and kissing it “You are far more beautiful in person than I could imagine” sincere, charming even, brimming with utmost confidence.  She looks at me with a huge grin on her face. I rolled my eyes. “I'm Billy Hargrove, your daughter's boyfriend."

“It’s nice to finally meet you. You look just like how she described you, Billy,” my mom says with a big smile. “y/n has had a crush on you for a year. ”

“Oh really?” he asks, one eyebrow raised, looking at me amusedly. 

"Also, please, call me y/m/n." She took one look at the boy standing awkwardly somewhat naked in her daughter's room. She noticed that his torso was severely bruised.

“Are you alright dear, did you get into a fight? She asked with concern, filling her voice as she pointed to his torso.

“Oh. I- i um.” he says, not able to tell the truth about how he got them.

Coughing. "Mom, you and dad came back early," I say, finally finding my voice. Distracting her from Billy. 

"Oh, most of the meetings were canceled. We left for two days and got yourself a charming handsome boyfriend." She playfully scolded. My mom seemed to play off the ignored question.

Billy rubbed the back of his neck. He let out a boyish grin, and immediately, I knew he had just won over my mother.

“Um Mom, can you give us a second, please?”

“Of course honey, but later we need to have the talk about certain things” she says painting at my current state but right  before she closes the door she gives me a thumbs up along with a wink. 

“Christ.” I say as I flopped on my bed, covering my face with my hands.

“Well that went better than i expected” he chuckles, putting on his jeans, ignoring the shirt that was on the floor. He crawled over me and hovers over me, straddling my legs. I looked up through my fingers. He gently removes my hands from my face. Bending down to capture my lips. 

“You're cute when you're embarrassed” he smirks.

Laughing “Oh fuck off hargrove” 

Gingerly, my fingers touch his bruises, “I wish he didn't do this to you. If I meet him, I will kill him, I swear” I was getting pissed.  

He chuckles a bit “jesus you are hot when you get pissed, but thank you for being my little protector” 

I gave him a small smile “well someones gotta do it” pulling him down for a quick kiss , We finally came down the stairs fully dressed. “Ready to meet the father, big boy?” He stiffened immediately. Laughing “he's going to love you, i promise.”...... I hope so.

The meeting with my dad went smoother than i thought, dad took one look at Billy's scared face and immediately laughed while shaking his hand. “Welcome to the family, Billy, but no more sex under this roof ever again,” my dad scolded him. My eyes widen “thanks mom” i grumbled under my breath

“S-sorry sir” Billy gulps

“And you young lady from now on your are grounded."

" Can I at least go on a date tonight?" I pouted.

"OK, I'll let you off with a warning, just for tonight," he points at me with a semi Stern look.

“See i told you nothing to worry about” i teased as He slings an arm around me. “Yeah, your parents are fucking awesome, but not as awesome as you” he whispers in my ear. 

Rolling my eyes “I love you, dork.”

“I love you too, nerd,” he grins.

*First date at skating rink*

“I’m totally gonna fall on my ass by the way. I never had luck with skates” I say to Billy as he laces up his own skates. We looked around the skating rink, watching as the people on the rink passed by.

“Well we can't let that happen now, can we?” He says with a smirk, leaning over to wrap an arm around me. 

“Let me help you to the rink.” He says, taking hold of my shaky hands. I bite my lip and attempt to lift myself off of the bench. I immediately lose my footing upon fully standing up, falling into his arms. Billy lets out a hearty laugh, causing me to pout. “Asshole,” I mutter, placing my hands on his bicep for balance.

He chuckles “come on, bambi.” I stick my tongue at him with the nickname.

“I can't believe I suggested this for the first date. After all these years, I still can't skate.” I groaned in embarrassment. 

“I think it's cute, especially because it gives me an excuse to hold you more,” he says.

He pulls me from the carpet onto the slippery, wooden floor of the rink. We start off slowly but gradually start going faster over time. 

“Just ease into it, your tense baby.” he says, letting go to give me some freedom. 

Immediately, i slipped and fell flat on my back. Billy stops immediately and goes to help me up. 

“Nice one, y/l/n!” A group of girls snickered at me as they swerved by me. I flipped them off, hissing in pain as Billy lifted me up off of the floor.

“Well that went great.” we both say at the same time, both of us laughing.

I finally started to ease into it after several hours. It still isn't easy, Billy leads me around the rink, and I laugh as he does little tricks around me.

“How are you so good?” I whined when he was showing off again.

“My mother took me to skating rinks a lot when i was little. If i wasn't surfing, i was skating.”

“I would like to know more about her.”

“I will tell you soon,but now is not the time.” he sighs with a small frown.

“Promise?”

“Promise.” he smiles.

An announcement rings through the building, stating that the rink will be closing soon. 

He took me over to the plastic bench, and he helped me sit down and undo my laces. “Baby, I’m not five, I know how to untie my shoelaces.” Billy chuckles, “I know princess…I just felt like doing it for you.” 

“You’re so cheesy.” I tease. rolling his eyes. “Only for you.”

“Wanna do the photobooth before they close?” I say with puppy dog eyes.

“Anything for you.”

*car ride home also smut incoming*

I couldn't take my eyes off of him as he drove. Something about him driving does things to me. his hand had started off holding my own, but it had slipped to my thigh, gripping it tight like he was reading my thoughts.

"Billy, do you mind going the long way home?" I asked. He chuckles lowly, moving his hand a little more up my thigh, causing my breath to hitch. "Gladly." he says, punching the gas pedal a little more.

It wasn't long before he was driving down an old, almost overgrown, dirt road to a small clearing passed the warehouses; He pulled over, he looked at me with dark, lustful eyes that made me wanna moan; he leans in, his hand still on my thigh, kissing me harsh and bruising, pulling me onto his lap, his grip moved to my hips, fingertips harsh and making me roll my hips. His addicting taste of strawberries and cigarettes made my head spin. 

"D-Daddy," you mewled in his ear, grinding down on his lap. 

He stops my grinding “what did you call me?”

“Daddy.” I said quietly that I was turning red with embarrassment sitting back in the passenger seat thinking I did something wrong.

With a smirk, he undid his belt and pushed his jeans and boxers down to his ankles; his cock rock hard, "What's the matter, kitten? Dont You want Daddy to fuck you?"

You bit your lip, nodding eagerly. "Yes, please.”

“Strip” he demands. 

I stripped quickly at his command. “daddy.”

the growl that escaped his throat when i said that was primal, and without even any hesitation, he quickly puts me back on his lap, aiding me in lining myself up with him before he let out a loud groan when i fully sank down on him, gripping his shoulders as i began to rock and grind my hips.

 "That's a good girl, You look so fucking good on top of me,fucking yourself on daddy's dick like a good fucking girl."

My lips were against his neck as I was begging for more, leaving bright hickeys everywhere whilst I tangled one hand in his hair, tugging it perfectly, his hands firmly on my hips, fingertips bruising my skin, losing ourselves in the ecstasy. 

"Fuck, Daddy, I'm so close."

“Then cum baby girl.” he mercilessly played with my clit as he continued roughly pounding into me, I clenched around him, my juices covering him, he quickly pulled out and his thick cum covers the space in between us.

"Fuck, princess," he manages to say at last as he pressed a soft kiss to my lips. "You're so fucking gorgeous when you cum." He licked his lips.

"Lie down in the backseat," his voice was low and gravelly, making you bite your lip in excitement. "Daddy wants to taste you.”

Lying down in the backseat, spreading my legs, watching in awe as he got between my thighs. moaning loudly and arching my back when he ran his tongue through my folds, slow and teasing at first, he made sure to keep his eyes trained on me, especially when he pushed two of his fingers inside of me, making me gasp from the overstimulation. the windows of the car had fogged up.

 He crooked the fingers that were buried inside of me, making me let out an incredibly loud moan; clenching around his fingers I came for the second time my  juices were eagerly licked up by him, he pulled away, licking his lips.

my legs were shaking, i was sure i couldn't move. "Baby, let me return the favor," I breathed out.

Chuckling, he shook his head “you don't have.”

“Please daddy let me.”

“Ok princess.” he smiles.

“I've never done this.” i say quietly 

“It's ok, baby.”

He sat back when I got on my hands and knees on the seat. bending down, I spent some time kissing his thighs, getting closer and closer to his balls. He let out a loud growl when I put one of his balls into my mouth. swishing it around inside my mouth, then switched to the other one; He started breathing hard. I managed to put both his balls into my mouth at once. “ You are doing amazing, princess.” he grunts, I gingerly begin to stroke his cock. removing his balls from my mouth, licking his shaft with the tip of my tongue. Drenching  his cock with my saliva. finally putting my lips around the whole head of his cock and started to gently suck him off. slowly lowering my mouth over his entire cock, getting it deep inside my mouth as i could. grunting softly when I realized I couldn't get it all inside her mouth. slowly bobbing my head up and down on his lap. I could hear his breathing getting heavier. 

“Fuck, are you sure you never done this before?” he grunts.

He began to buck his hips up and down; Swirling my tongue wildly around the underside of the head of his cock, driving him mad with desire. It was hard to really say anything back with my mouth filled up. I intended to milk him dry; looking up, I saw his eyes were tightly shut, and his hands were by his side. “I'm about to cum kitten.” he moans, shortly after he said that the explosion came.

The intensity and amount of cum was difficult to handle. letting his cum drip out onto his lap. His hot cum mixed with my saliva as I licked the tip of his shaft. 

“H-how was that.”

“That was absolutely amazing, baby girl.” he says as he pulls me up to kiss my lips, tasting himself.

“I love you so much.” I whisper in his lips.

“I love you more than you think.”

Previous Chapter

Part 12

Masterlist

2023

[purplelupins]

How do you think Sweet Dreams Albert would react to someone flirting with the reader? You mentioned them going to the grocery store together and I can imagine the young clerk scanning their items and being very flirty with the reader. (Maybe not suspecting Albert Is her partner because he is older?)

Also do you ever think Albert would be insecure because he has such an age gap with the reader? She is obviously very young while he is most definitely middle aged and greying. Do you think this would worry him? Maybe fearing she might leave him for someone younger eventually? Or be afraid she would lose attraction to him?

feel free to maybe these responses as long and draw out as you want 😏

(I got a little carried away but Omg please don’t stop asking questions this was so fun. Thank you so so much)

I think at first, their outings would be a bit difficult. In a word, he would be possessive. I think honestly he would stick by her side half because he needed to and half because she literally asked him to not leave her because of her past in the town, and because she probably would have a bit of agoraphobia from not interacting with a lot of people for so long( in small settings like walks it’s fine but shopping is all kinds of sensory overloads) he would push the cart and she would hold his arm closely while excitedly pointing to different things asking if they could get it (“they have CHOCOLATE cereal now?? We have to get it” “look at the fresh muffins at the bakery- Albert please??”) to which he would always say yes.

The cutest part of their time out together is that he insists on paying for everything, even though they both know she has a small fortune saved up in her bank for when she was planning on leaving Denver. And she ALWAYS gives him a kiss somewhere to show her gratitude.

This man is touching her in someway no matter what. His hand is on her somehow. But of course you will get the odd male who just sees a beautiful young woman and couldn’t care less about who the older man beside her was. Probably her dad right?

So as she’s busy with getting a bag of carrots or a new carton of eggs, perhaps she’s strayed a couple feet from the older man watching her lovingly. And in that moment of her not being leashed by Albert, a man thinking with his second head approaches her.

“Pardon me miss?” The man said ever so charmingly.

She jumped and looked to where the voice came from and immediately looked over at Albert who just so happened to be looking at a new brand of coffee. She slowly began inching back to him, “yes?” She asked timidly.

“I was just wondering if you knew where to find a pretty thing like you around here?” He man asked, coming closer with a smile.

She didn’t know what to say, but thankfully in that moment Albert came beside her and pulled her to his side with a kiss to her head, “you okay bunny?” He asked her, knowing she didn’t want to talk to that man. How could she? She was his.

“Everything alright here?” Albert asked the man pointedly, stroking his sweet girl’s waist.

The man looked from Albert’s hand to her calm face then to Albert’s face and he got all embarrassed, “Just asking where the eggs were.” The man tried to recover.

But she shook her head “No you didn’t. You asked where you could find a pretty thing like me.” She said ratting him out.

Albert sucked in a breath and tilted his head to look down at his sweet girl, “Did he now? “ he asked in dramatic shock, then slowly looked back up at the man. “Someone like you will never find out. Eggs are there.” Albert nodded shortly to the eggs, and kissed her cheek, “Come on sweetie. Let’s get home, hmm?”

And she lit up , “Oh! oh I wanted to make us this new pasta dish I saw on the food network!” She smiled and clung to Albert, having already forgotten about the man.

“I can’t wait.” He would coo to her, guiding her away, but throwing one last dirty look at the man.

If it was a clerk, let’s just say that poor boy would need another uniform after stress sweating. It would probably go down like this:

She was unloading the cart at the counter with Albert, but she was first so the clerk saw her mostly. She just gave the boy a small friendly smile, and just went on with her unloading. The boy did a full, very obvious double take, which Albert saw immediately. His eye twitched.

“H-how’s your day going?” They boy asked, swallowing nervously.

Albert’s eye twitched again, and his fists clenched.

Thin ice boy

She looked up at him, moving the cart though, “Oh good. Thanks.” She said politely, looking back at Albert to make sure he was still there.

Then the boy went to open his mouth again and that was it. “Just a couple bags, thank you….Bennnny.” Albert said casually as he read the boys name tag, drawing out the ‘n’ sound. It made the boy’s hair stand on end. Albert took pleasure in seeing the droplets of sweat on his head, and pushed the cart to the end out of the way and pulled her to wrap his arms around her, swaying them slightly as he hummed in her ear that song they shared.

Their song.

“O-okay.” The boy responded shakily. He looked away immediately, and began bagging the items quickly.

“Don’t rip it now…” Albert said, which only made the boy more nervous. Y/n on the other hand had picked up where Albert had left off in humming the song, closing her eyes and leaning into his touch.

That boy quit shortly after.

When they got into their new truck(remember that brown and white 1970 Ford F100 truck? Well now it’s blue. Thanks dad!) his hand would immediately be on her thigh, stroking it gently at first, but slowly moving higher until he could see his bunny trying to keep herself together. When they got home, she barely had time to unload the groceries before he was on her. She just finished putting away the coffee in the cupboard when he grabbed her shoulders and spun her around, gripping her hair as he pulled her lips to his.

He already knew her panties were a mess, so he just tore at the sides to get rid of them quickly…he almost came in his pants when he saw how the fabric clung to her slick, refusing to leave her. He growled, picked her up and she squealed as he placed her on the counter. Albert slipped one long finger inside her first, just to tease her, and when she begged so prettily he undid his pants and shucked them off she looked down, biting her cheek as she waiting for him to slide inside her.

“Look at Daddy.” He rasped, and she did immediately. “That’s my girl.”

She barely had time to revel in his praise as he pushed inside her soaked little pussy.

“Tell Daddy you belong to him.” He growled in her ear, thrusting into her. He saw her try and speak a couple times, but each time he would slam into her a little harder to watch her struggle to answer him.

“I’m yours daddy!” She whimpered, locking her ankles around his thighs as he bucked into her.

“That’s my girl…that’s a good fucking girl…mine.” He growled, sucking at her neck to made a new bruise. “You’re mine.”

She could not walk after shopping days. But he would make it up to her with a long bath and brushing her hair for an extra long time.

After a while, however, things would calm. People in town would grow to recognize them, and would stop bothering them aside from the odd old lady. But even with them being left alone, he still kept a close eye on her, and she barely left his side. Secretly, when they were out they would play a game with one another. They would chose a person, and tell eachother how they would kill them, and why. Bonding time!

As for the second question, I think there would be a lot of insecurity in the beginning especially for him. He’s lived in some kind of fear his whole life so it’s only natural to fear that she might leave him. I think he would also watch how she reacted to people asking what his daughter wanted at the ice cream shop…to his pleasure, she sometimes played along. He would also make small comments here and there to see her reaction, and move forward accordingly.

They were watching a film, and there was a reference that made Albert smile but flew right over y/n’s head. He smiled “You’re too young to know this but back when I was your age…” and go on to talk about something.

But she would just love to hear him talk (Umm have you heard his voice??) and wait until he was done. She would smile and nod, “Well this is why I have you! You can tell me everything I don’t know yet.” She clung to him tighter.

“It doesn’t bother you?” He might ask a little pointedly.

“What? That I didn’t get the joke?” She looked up at him.

“No that I understood it.” He said, not looking at her. To which she would smile sweetly.

“Albert Shaw look at me.” She said.

He sighed and finally looked at her as she adjusted herself to sit up and look him in the eye.

“I wouldn’t care if you were 60 or 70 years old, so long as you were you. Or don’t I show you that enough?” She asked a little playfully, easing her hand onto his thigh to stroke him.

He snatched her hand and stared at her, checking for any lie. But she just grinned smittenly and slowly pulled her hand away to continue rubbing him. He relaxed after a minute, his chest rising and falling visibly as he hardened under her touch. Albert pulled her into his lap and pulled himself out before lifting her up to sink down into him. She gasped and steadied herself on his shoulders. Y/n went to rock against him, but he held her still and kept her there. “Hold still sweetie. Just keep daddy’s cock warm for now, okay? no moving.”

She she nodded and rested her head on his shoulder, clenching every so often, but every time she would get a harsh smack on her butt cheek. The pain and control would slowly get them off though until he’s growling in her ear, “I know it feels so good sweetie but I need you to keep still…you can do that right?”

She shook her head shamefully.

“No? You can’t get enough of my fucking cock? Maybe I’ll just have to be inside you every second of every day to see if that satisfies you…I bet it wouldn’t. You’re too greedy aren’t you? Hmm?” And with his voice alone, she came. Hard. Her legs shook as she lost their little game, and he held her down onto him as her spasms sent him over with her. His cum filling her up.

They would always play games together. It just made everything so much more fun.

[kikizoshi]

Feeling discouraged, so here's a short, unfinished Godos piece that will never be realised. Nikolai's attempting (read: failing) to write his first draft of a play (an adaptation of Dead Souls, Part 2). Fyodor was going to cheer him up and inspire him, somehow, but I don't have any clue how, so this is all I could get out of that idea. (I do at least like how it turned out, though, unfinished as it is.)

---

The words on the page taunted Nikolai like so many Sufi dervishes. They blurred, swirled into characters half-formed, who jumped and jeered just out of Nikolai’s sight. ‘Find us,’ they seemed to say. ‘Come and see our beautiful lives! And then depict us, reveal us to everyone, that we may truly exist.’ They beckoned him to find them, invited him to view their marvelous exploits, to laugh along with their absurd adventures—and then just as he reached to meet them, they slipped away, laughing. Unendingly they tortured him with scenes just beyond grasp, a perfect story hidden in the periphery of a dense fog.

Nikolai groaned, leaned back, and pressed his palms against his eyes. It was a perfect picture of agony, well-practiced and endlessly rehearsed. ‘Yet all the acting in the world won’t save a lacking script,’ he thought. ‘Ah, why can’t you just write yourselves? Hop along, I’ll even guide the quill, so long as you do something, anything, oh please…’ His entreaties, of course, prompted naught but more formless tittering. Nikolai sighed, and contemplated how effective bashing his scull against the door-jam would be at shaking something loose.

“Is something the matter?” an irritatingly calm Fyodor asked from behind him. Nikolai swung around in his chair, resting his arms on the back, and stared pointedly at his relaxed friend who lounged so serenely on the green recliner, a book nestled under his folded palms. The question itself was preemptive, a set-up, a frivolous first line of a three-line script which always arrived at the same conclusion. Nikolai recognised the offer for friendly—and perhaps even needed—advice, but took it no less bitterly. He smiled mirthlessly. Nevertheless, he played his part.

“Whatever gave you that impression? Was it the willful suicide of the last of my creative expression? Or perhaps you hear them laughing too?”

“Your characters won’t work with you?” (Here, the second phrase, to be replied with…)

“Oh, far beyond that. They won’t speak to me at all! I’m being shunned.”

“I see.” Fyodor concluded and stood, pulling the curtain on their impromptu play. Nikolai watched him go, mildly curious which remedy Fyodor would prescribe this time. “I need to visit the theatre,” he said finally. “Would you like to join me?”

Nikolai laughed flatly. “For what? The stage doesn’t—and I say this from great experience—do anything for one’s imagination. If anything, it’s worse, because you see everything that has been and none of what could be! Can you imagine that? I know, I know, you’re ‘not that way artistically inclined,’ but imagine for a moment that the sentences of your computer codes were jumping and jaunting about in front of your very eyes, and so to fix it, you decided to stare at someone else's pages. Well? Would that help you very much?”

“Most likely it wouldn’t.” Fyodor smiled. “But we won’t be going to the stage. I need to stop by the costuming department. Misha talked one of the women there into parting with an unused costume design for Verenka, but couldn’t pick it up himself.”

“And you just so happen to be free?”

“No,” Fyodor said, a bit dejected. “But I couldn’t stand to stare at my colleagues’ ‘pages’. As you say, it won’t do any good.” He sighed wearily. “Some fresh air and new scenery, tea, something else to think about… I need them greatly. And some company would be nice, too.”

Nikolai stood without ceremony (a shame, yes, but recall his lack of inspiration and forgive him), stretched, and said flatly, “Well then, what are we waiting for?”

---

As it turned out, Nikolai was quite quick to regret those words. A lovely stroll down the uncharacteristically sun-touched streets of St. Petersburg wound down into a bustling cafe.

---

Surprisingly, all went well at the theatre. The lady was quite nice, expressing her condolences and well-wishes for the ‘poor young woman’, and waved them on their way. Pattern safely secured, the two stopped by the next-door cafe, ‘The Stray Dog’, (home to aspiring and established artists alike), for a spot of tea. And thence all collapsed.

[alcamcat]

Hello! I saw that you were willing to take requests so may I request a platonic imagine of gardening with James, Confessing they like spending time with him and the brothers cause they feel like family to them.

Hey, you are my first request! I wrote a little scenario about it, hope you like it!

-I don't own the game or the characters-     

It was one of those days. Life wasn't bad per se, but somehow everything had gone wrong that day. The alarm hadn't rung, then there was so much traffic that they were late for the first appointment. From then on it went even further downhill. Stress, forgetting their lunch at home and of course they got stuck in traffic on the way back again. The only bright spot in the day was the arrangement to meet James, their neighbor. He had recently moved to town with his brothers and lived in the house next door.

A short time later they were already kneeling next to James in front of the bed and together they planted the newly acquired flowers. They talked about their day, he asked interested questions as if it were the most natural thing in the world. With every minute that they spent with James in the garden and told him about the day, they relaxed more and more. He just manages to ask the right questions to make everything appear in a more positive light for them. A smile soon appeared on their features and by the time they accidentally dropped something and James caught it for them, they had already forgotten that their day had been anything but good.

It quickly became apparent that he, like them, enjoyed working in the garden and over time the contact had become closer and closer. And they had to admit that he and his brothers had crept into their heart. When they were with them, it was a little like coming home. It wasn't that they didn't have friends, people to hang out with, but there was something about gardening with James and watching the brothers' interactions that felt so comforting, even if they couldn't describe why.

After quickly changing clothes, they opened the small gate that separated their gardens. James was already kneeling in front of a flower bed. He looked up when he heard the sound of the gate. "Hello, I'm glad you made it!" With a smile that came naturally, they walked up to him. "Hi James, I said I'd help. So..." They looked around, "...what can I do?"

In between, Damien came up to them and invited them to stay for dinner. Matthew, the second youngest brother as they knew, had found a new dessert recipe and was going to try it. They considered turning down the offer, but before they could say anything, Damien smiled kindly. "I know you want it!" And yes, he was right. They wanted to stay for dinner, continue talking to James and watch the brothers tease each other. They were too comfortable with them to refuse. "I would like to stay for dinner, thank you!" "You're welcome, I'm looking forward to it." "But first we have to finish this." James intervened and handed them a rake, which they accepted with a smile.

When they finally planted the last plant and started smoothing the soil over the bed, they were talking about holiday destinations. Conversations with James were always interesting, he had a wide range of knowledge and was always interested in the opinions of others. "I was in Germany once and visited a Christmas market..." their story was interrupted by loud screams coming from the house. Not a second later the patio door flew open and Matthew ran into the garden. Closely followed by Sam who seemed to slow down when he saw them. Matthew laughed, running straight for the two of them and in one quick movement he jumped behind them, wrapping his arm around their waist and pushing them in front of him as if using them as some kind of shield.

"It really wasn't me!" he spluttered out laughing while a single look from James was enough to bring Sam to a halt in front of them. "Bullshit. Nobody else was at the console. You deleted my fucking save." They felt Matthew, still laughing, shake his head behind them. "It wasn't me, why would I delete such a bad save?" "You little pig..." "Sam!" James cut him off with a warning in his voice and they couldn't hold back their laughter any longer.

Their laughter seemed so confusing to Sam that he opened and closed his mouth like a fish for a few seconds, which only made them and Matthew laugh more. When he finally caught himself, he crossed his arms and tilted his head at them. "And what's so funny about that, exactly?" They raised their hands reassuringly, and as they spoke, remembering using the exact same gesture to placate their siblings, "Nothing, really."

"I think they're laughing because you guys are acting like little, ill-mannered kids," James suggested and they pressed their lips together to keep from laughing again. Then he turned to Matthew, "Didn't you actually want to make dinner?" They dismissed it as an illusion that James's gaze wandered to the arm that Matthew still had around them when he asked the question. Matthew immediately let go of them and danced around Sam, who followed his movements with narrowed eyes.

"I apologize on their behalf", James finally said with a sigh as Sam walked back into the house as well. "You don't have to." James looked at them in mild disbelief for a moment before bending down to pick up the last sack of potting soil. As if automatically, they grabbed the rake again. "Besides..." they murmured under their breath, immediately catching James' attention again, who gave them a questioning look when they didn't continue.

"Besides...?" he repeated, questioningly, as if to encourage them to continue. They bit their lip with a smile. "Besides, I find it really refreshing to be around your brothers." "Really?" James' doubtful expression drew a laugh from them. "Yes! It's nice to see how you treat each other. When I'm with you, it feels a bit like coming home for me. I know that might sound strange, but you and your brothers are like family to me now!”

James' eyes had widened with every word and they looked down in embarrassment until they felt a hand on their shoulder. When they looked at James again, he gave them a friendly smile. "That doesn't sound strange at all. I am glad that you feel comfortable with us! After all, we are fond of you too.” The words had a very special ring to them. A warm wave spread from their heart through their body. A feeling of contentment set in that they had missed for a long time without knowing it.

They smiled at each other for a moment, then James lowered his hand and grabbed a shovel. "So, you just talked about Germany. What is a Christmas market?” His calm curiosity pleased them and they immediately engaged in a pleasant conversation. When Matthew called for dinner a little later and the two had put away their tools, James offered his arm to lead them into the house.

Of course, they accepted the offer and together with him entered the house, where a fun evening full of brotherly teasing and interesting conversations awaited them. A bit like coming home.

[highwaytothedangerzone502]

Ghost Story - Chapter 46

Pairing: Rooster x Female OC

Word Count: 1529

Warnings: Mention of near-death, PTSD

Summary: No one will miss a ghost. It'd been a running joke for as long as anyone could remember, something Ghost herself started, and she always said it with a smile on her face or with mirth in her voice. The untouchable stealth pilot in every sense of the word, no one could've predicted the depth of her turmoil over recent events, nor the extremes she would go to in order to protect the man she loved, not even those closest to her. Now, all that was left of the young aviator for Maverick, Hangman, and Rooster were the memories of the past, which would slowly fade with time. She'd come into their lives and made an unforgettable impression, and then, like a ghost, she was gone... Then again, ghosts can't die a second time.

Notes: None

Chapter Songs: I've Done Love The Great War

****

Ghost

Two weeks passed, and Maverick and Penny somehow managed to convince Ghost to continue staying with them for that duration. Perhaps it didn't take as much convincing as she told herself it did. Ghost enjoyed the experience of having a family again, of having people who were essentially acting like the mother and father she no longer had. Of course, Maverick might actually be her dad, but she hadn't found the opportunity to bring it up with him. Was there such a thing in the first place?

Still, Ghost needed to get away from Rooster. After their welcome home dinner, he avoided talking or looking at her, but for an unfathomable reason, he would find a way to always be next to Ghost when they were in the same room, whether it be standing next to her in the kitchen or sitting next to at the dining table or on the couch. Ghost ached to ask him about it but feared she was imagining things due to her concussion. She hated being so unsure of herself.

Thankfully, while Maverick and Penny- and mainly the former- wouldn't allow her to go anywhere unaccompanied in fear of her having some complications with one of her many injuries, Hangman stepped up to help Ghost get out of the house. They would go for strolls around the block or down to the beach and back. It was the most Ghost could do without causing herself too much pain. However, the physical pain was more bearable than the emotional toll of the daring mission, the escape, her issues with Rooster, and her debacle over Maverick.

"Your face is going to fall into a permanent frown if you keep it like that any longer," Hangman said, nudging her gently with his elbow. They sat on a bench facing the ocean, enjoying the sun and people-watching. "Why the long face?"

"Not sure you want to go down that rabbit hole," Ghost mumbled, relaxing her facial muscles. 

"Take me down it, Alice."

A smile tugged at the corners of her lips. No matter what, she always had Hangman, and she loved him for it. Taking a deep breath, Ghost chose to tell him all about her troubles save for the one with Rooster. "I have nightmares every time I fall asleep. I either can't eject or can't reach the plane in time before it shoots Rooster down. Then there are the nightmares at the enemy base- I get shot, or Rooster does, or we get shot down in the plane and can't escape. A few times, I dreamed you or Mav got shot down before we could take care of that last plane. I'll see you, Rooster or Mav floating lifelessly in the waves… I'm screaming for y'all to wake up, and you never do…"

A knot rose in Ghost's throat, and she pushed it down. Hangman worried about her enough. If he saw her cry, he'd never leave her side again. He reached over and took her hand. "I wanted to ask… I was worried you would have some PTSD from this because, for all intents and purposes, you shouldn't be alive right now. How you survived…. Promise me you'll see someone if it gets too much? I know it helped me after-"

"I will," she promised, squeezing his hand assuringly. Only Ghost and Coyote were aware of the fact that Jake had severe PTSD from shooting down the enemy plane after he saw the lifeless, ripped-apart body of the pilot in the water.

"Do you want to talk more about it?"

"No. I don't like reliving them any more than I have to…"

"All right, then we'll move on. What else is on your mind?"

Ghost bit her lip nervously. "I, uh, I think mom might've lied to me about who my dad is."

Hangman's brows shot up, but he didn't act near as shocked as Ghost expected, prompting her to ask, "Why do I get the feeling this idea has crossed your mind?"

"I thought about it for a hot sec after Mav called you his daughter when you were shot down."

"But?"

"I asked him about it later, and he said it was a slip of the tongue." Ghost's heart sank at his words. She'd been so close to having a dad again, only to have it ripped out from underneath her. Hangman must've noticed because he added, "Hey, saying it's a 'slip of the tongue' isn't a denial. Maybe he doesn't want anyone to know if it's true."

"If it is true, if Maverick is my dad, why would he want to hide that unless he didn't want anyone finding out because he doesn't want a daughter?"

"Or maybe he's not sure you want him as a dad," Hangman countered gently. "He's aware of how close you were to Nathan. Maybe he thinks you'll think he's trying to replace him?"

Ghost fiddled with her dog tags. "I want to ask him, but I can't find the right time, and every time I think I have the confidence to do so, I second guess myself and that my logic of getting to the conclusion I did is flawed and that he won't believe me."

"First off, Mav would be lucky to have you as a daughter. Secondly, you overanalyze every situation for every possible outcome. If you've concluded that Maverick is your dad, then I believe you're right. If you want moral support when you confront him about it, I'll be right there with you. Where there's a ghost, there's a hangman."

"I appreciate it, but this will need to be something I do on my own. I'll give you a call if I need you to help me escape if it goes badly."

"I'll be your getaway car."

"Thanks, Swiftie. Speaking of cars, Maverick and Penny should be leaving soon for their trip. I want to say bye before they go."

Hangman stood, helping Ghost in the process. "I should get going too. I have a date tonight."

"What?!" Ghost whirled on him, immediately regretting her decision when her abdomen reminded her that her ribs were still very much broken. She ignored the pain as best she could when inquiring, "With who? What time? You better not have wasted time with me when you should've been getting ready for the date."

Hangman shoved his hands sheepishly into his pockets. "You're more important, and she's wholly aware of our friendship and what you went through, so if I told her I was with you, she'd understand."

Noticing he blatantly avoided the question about who it was, but taking into account the details he'd given her, Ghost figured it out quickly. As they started walking back to the Benjamin household, she queried, "So who asked who out: you or Phoenix?"

Hangman's eyes nearly bulged out of his head. "How did you-"

"Don't worry. Ghosts learn secrets; they don't share them, so it's safe with me. Plus, I saw you two sharing glances and staying close to each other at our welcome home dinner."

"I appreciate it. But hey, if anything happens tonight and you need me-"

"I will call anyone but you. You've been amazing in helping me since we got home. Take some time for yourself, okay?"

Hangman reluctantly agreed. The two friends completed the short walk back to Penny's house and stopped outside the front door. From inside, Ghost could hear the faint chatter of Maverick, followed by Bradley's laughter. Hangman opened his arms without a word, and Ghost stepped into the embrace. Hangman kissed the top of her head. "You sure you're good?"

"Yeah, I'm good."

"So you're not hiding the fact you and Bradshaw are still being weird around each other?"

"How did you-"

Hangman smirked. "You're not the only one who can read correctly into things."

Ghost sighed a dropped her voice to avoid being overheard. "He's been weird ever since our rescue, and I don't know if I'm imagining things because of my concussion or if it was genuinely happening, but hearing you say it… even Mav has been quiet around me, but he at least talks to me without being forced."

"Annalise-" Hangman grasped her shoulders gingerly- "you nearly died in his arms. It probably did some damage to his psyche. I know it would to me. I'm willing to bet his behavior toward you has to do with that rather than anything else."

"What should I do, then? Let him come to me or corner him?"

"That's up to you and how much more of the weirdness you can take." Hangman glanced at his watch. "You want me to stay a little lon-"

"Absolutely not." She pointed firmly at his truck and said, "Go get ready for your date."

"Yes, ma'am!" Hangman saluted her, then kissed her on the cheek and strode to his truck. Ghost watched him leave, wishing he had stayed, but she wouldn't do that to him. He had a life that existed outside of hers and some problems she had to deal with on her own. Taking a deep breath, she pushed the front door open to face the tension head-on.

****

Tags: @supernaturaldawning @shanimallina87 @polikszena @lgg5989 @callsign-milano @bradshawsandbridgetons @harper1666 @shadeops21 @double-j @copaceticwriter @rotating-obsessions @sharkprestige @thedarkinmansfield @lapilark @mickeyluvs @starshipfantasy @bennypears00 @avabobava @the-navistar-carol @getmyprettynameoutofyourmouth @carmellasworld @0hb0llocks @nicangelinee @summ3rlotus @3picklesinajar @magentamistress @the-other-hawkeye @elisha-chloe @emilymarie105 @persephone11110 @luckyladycreator2 @boogdleyboo @k0k3 @bibissparkles @lilmonstrjedi @stinkyrat09 @cocoag19 @suburbzchick @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @goodstuff28 @georgiasimpson95 @horselovers2016 @tanithpriad125 @davidshawnsown @sowolfstudentme @agagafafa @callmemana @sec17 @brxklyn15 @h0ppy0the0sheep @tomanybandstolove @abigailannz @mini-bee-bee @super-btstrash-posts

Chapters: Chp 1 Chp 2 Chp 3 Chp 4 Chp 5 Chp 6 Chp 7 Chp 8 Chp 9 Chp 10 Chp 11 Chp 12 Chp 13 Chp 14 Chp 15 Chp 16 Chp 17 Chp 18 Chp 19 Chp 20 Chp 21 Chp 22 Chp 23Chp 24 Chp 25 Chp 26 Chp 27 Chp 28 Chp 29 Chp 30 Chp 31 Chp 32 Chp 33 Chp 34 Chp 35 Chp 36 Chp 37 Chp 38 Chp 39 Chp 40 Chp 41 Chp 42 Chp 43 Chp 44 Chp 45 Chp 46

[he11swinter]

Three things (first off thank you so much for the last ask it was a blessing)

1 I have a song I want to show you that I believe fits Isabella, George and Jimmy but can't decide which one I should draw/animate to

2 This is a fic my friend is writing for a collage class (I'll maybe send a doc if I get permission and you want to read) but it's basically Horace and Dana bonding with Horace being the first guy to not stare lustful at Dana or harm her in anyway while she's not scared of his appearance so the two find some sort of ground to step on and open up together. She said she's trying to write it in a way that Horace will wonder if he would ever had a life with her in it if they were alive (cause we argue what years these two are from cause there's literally NO HINT in clothes/items that help unlike the others)

3 As promised I want to a somewhat happy ask, What are you headcanons of the ghost being "imaginary friends" for some kid? It's a known fact for children to have friends no one else sees as well as it known a chance is the friend is actually a spirit or ghoul. I like to picture George was the most happy to be a little kid's friend since he was a dad before death

You’re so welcome! It was fun, and thank you so much for this one! Pleeeease keep ‘em coming! :D

My vote is George for the song, because he had the revenge arc. The energy feels most like him, maybe? (I want to see the art/animation when it’s done, sounds exciting.)

If you wanna send me stories feel free! I don’t always get to them (I’m not much of a fanfic reader, maybe just quick things) but I certainly try. 😁

As for the times Dana and Horace lived, I THINK there were newspaper clippings in Damon’s shop that hinted or even gave dates, if that helps. I’m almost certain Dana died in the mid-late 90s, making her the second newest ghost after Jean. I always imagined Horace dying earlier, but not by too far. The scrapyard shut down at his death, right? I think…!? What was left of the car models could date him if so, and if identified, but I’m not a car person. 😂

Now see, THIS is adorable. I’m sure George would be a great imaginary friend to a kid, and one that would freak the parents out every time the child referenced him. He’d certainly be the best at the job, too, because…

Billy: He’d be a bossy jerk. Imaginary friend? More like imaginary bully, making them do what he wants and play exactly how he plays all the time. (Cowboys and Indians, of course.) He’d criticize them and do things the kid would get in trouble for constantly. Good luck to them trying to explain their imaginary friend did it… :/

Jimmy: I think he’d be uncomfortable. He doesn’t hate kids, he just doesn’t understand them and thinks they can be kind of irritating. He doesn’t enjoy explaining everything while they ask, “Why, why, why?” over and over. Like, “Why do you roll your head around instead of wearing it?” and he’d be like, “Jeez…”

Susan: She likes kids! Remember her with Bobby? Her favourite game to play with kids is see if she can startle them into tears. It’s great fun (for her). Evidently she’s not very responsible.

Royce: Royce doesn’t want to babysit, and that’s all that’s coming to me right now. Maybe somehow he could warm up to them, however, and treat them like a little brother or sister? (Sometimes I headcanon he had one, but I’ll save that explanation for another day because I did get an ask about it.)

Dana: No tender feelings towards the little gremlin at all; she just wants everyone to leave her the heck alone and stop staring. Frankly, the kid would be in some danger potentially.

Margaret and Harold: They don’t want to hang out near kids, either. Margaret only loves and has time for her son, and Harold would get outrageously jealous anyway.

Ryan: Oh gosh, he’s so unpredictable even to himself. There’s no way in hell he’d be comfortable around a child, but I’m in love with the idea of him gritting his teeth through it and then secretly growing fond. I think there would have to be a certain degree of himself he sees in them in order to be curious and connect; Ryan’s one to seek out familiarity.

Horace: Horace would kick the child. I’m sorry, there’s no hope.

[alpaca-clouds]

NaNoWriMo Day 5

I had to skip NaNo yesterday, because by the looks of it I got COVID again, just like last year around this time. And yesterday I just slept through most of the day. Really most of it. So, no writing happened yesterday.

Today, too, I have to stop in the middle of a chapter, which I usually don't like. But I am still trying to figure out a bit how the action in the next chapter is going to go. Because yeah, there is gonna be action.

Wordcount: 23 300 / 50 000 (+4696)

Chapters: 10.5 / 23

Favorite Bits

“How did you sleep?” Astarion inquired. “Fairly good, as always,” Tav said. “I took longer than you to fall asleep, though.” He sighed and Astarion knew quite well, why. “You were thinking about those drow.” “Yes, of course. If anything… I hope we can go there next night and find out who is behind it.” “And get the drow I saw out of it, I assume.” “Yes, that was the plan.” Another sigh came over the bard’s lips. “I need to go tell Karlach, Wyll and Shadowheart. I think depending on what we are dealing with…” “Come on, it cannot be worse than anything what we dealt with before.” “Even the mightiest paladin might get slayed by a single kobold if he becomes too haughty.” “Oh please, keep those pearls of wisdom to yourself,” Astarion muttered, though he did so with a grin. “I am just saying, that even after everything we need to be careful. Not get haughty. Not be mindless.” At this Astarion could not help a chuckle. “May I remind you, Tav, darling, that it tends to be you who usually runs into danger without a second thought – at least when it comes to saving people? I have stopped counting how many times we needed to save your sorry ass.” “I am trying to learn,” Tav replied. “Trying to be more patient.”

There was this one thing, that was driving him about as insane as the memory of his former sire. A thing, that interwove with said memory often enough. The one thing, he did not really understand and was afraid to question. But even now he did not understand what Tav actually liked about him. Because Tav was this silly, heroic man, who wanted to save everyone. Literally everyone. Of course, Tav had been very receptive towards his flirtation back then. But at the time Astarion had assumed, that for the most part, this man was just a bard, who was thinking with his sexual organs rather than anything else. He had not questioned it too much, because it was just how he had expected things to go. His calculation had been to seduce the man and get his protection in return – especially as everyone else somehow was listening to that idiot. What he had not expected was for this man to actually care about him – and even less to actually start caring about him in return. But why? Why was this idiot like that? Why had he been there for those last seven months? No matter how horrible Astarion had been. Did that idiot really care about him, or…

“You just needed to say something,” Wyll muttered. “We could have brought food. Something proper.” “Really, Wyll,” Shadowheart noted, “you know Tav – and Astarion. What did you expect from those two.” Karlach chuckled. “You are being mean, sweetheart.” “No, I am being honest. You were not there that first night before we found you guys. Tav tried to cook. He tried.” Kantei started laughing. “He is not that bad.” “He just randomly threw stuff into one pot and expected it to magically turn into stew!” “Well, he probably didn’t have cheese,” Aarton observed. “He is pretty good as long as he can put cheese into everything.” “That is not what I would consider good,” Shadowheart muttered – and just a bit, Astarion had to agree with her. “Weren’t you a follower of Shar?” Lakrissa said. “I mean, isn’t Shar all about the ‘absence of things’? I cannot imagine followers of Shar to eat well. True beauty probably lies in the absence of flavor or something.” This got Shadowheart to blush just a little. “Well, we at least had proper stews.”

(And yes, there is a whole chapter of twelve characters just ripping into each other.)

[allaboutthedongs]

Tell me you don’t love me | 18+

☆ Pairing: Idol!Doyoung x Actress!Female reader Mentions of Taeyong, Jaehyun and Johnny.

☆ Genre: A little angst, a lot of smut, cringy fluff at the end.

☆ Word count: 7.6 K (Sorry not sorry)

☆ Warnings: Dom!Doyoung, oral sex (f and m receiving), guided masturbation, fingering, unprotected sex, rough sex, soft sex, hair pulling, choking, dirty talk, a bit of alcohol consumption, cursing. Just filth, tbh.

☆ Prompt: You had a beautiful relationship with Doyoung until your company forced you to break up with him, so you did even if that meant having to lie and breaking his heart into a million pieces.

☆ A/n: OH-MY-GOD! I'm so excited because this is my very first time writing something on Tumblr, but foremost because I would've never imagined it was gonna be mainly smut!. Also, I guess I just got carried away a little bit too much(?). Please, have in mind that English is not my first language so there might be some grammar/spelling mistakes, but I'm pretty sure you'll still get the whole idea, okay? Since this blog is brand new, feel free to leave feedback, requests, suggestions for upcoming posts, questions, like, reblog, etc. Everything is welcomed (except hate, of course).

You felt a little bit nervous while doing your makeup, but taking a look at yourself after finishing the last touch ups, you were satisfied with what you saw in the mirror, feeling beautiful and confident with that gorgeous burgundy silk dress that hugged your curves just perfect, making you feel sexy but also elegant and sophisticated, first of all, because it was a fancy ass birthday party at your beloved friend Taeyong new house and second and most importantly, because your ex boyfriend Doyoung, was going to be there, it was his best friend birthday, after all.

It was a couple of months ago since you saw him for the last time, one day before you broke up with him. At first, you thought you could deal with the pressure of dating an idol as popular as him, and everything was fine the first eight months until your boss demanded to immediately talk with you at his office. Dispatch happened to be following you and your boyfriend for three months already, taking pictures of you both at your late night dates, him leaving your apartment in the early mornings, and already having lots of proofs that you were definitely dating, they were threatening your company to unveil your relationship to the world since it was easier to threaten and scare a small company than SM Ent.

You couldn't let that happen, at least not now that NCT 127 was having a highly expected comeback and their North American Tour was just around the corner.

Having a dating scandal at that moment would ruin not just your rising acting career, but his career, and one way or another, it'd definitely end up affecting all his members, your acting colleagues, and the staff of your upcoming drama too.

He has always cared way too much about his fans, his idol image and being very careful about never doing anything wrong that could make them feel disappointed, having such a big fandom was a heavy weight on his shoulders and a huge responsibility, but your chemistry was amazing and you both loved each other so much, that for the first time in his life he put himself and his feelings first, so after some casual dates he asked you to be his girlfriend.

But now, you couldn't be that selfish at dragging innocents into your mess, so you "agreed" with your boss that the company would bribe Dispatch for them not spilling the tea and if somehow any rumors came to light, they would flatly deny them all, even threatening about taking legal actions for spreading malicious rumors, but in return of saving both of your asses, they wanted you to break up with Doyoung right away and focus only on your job, no more dating for you.

It was a cold night when you realized that you could not delay the inevitable anymore, you had to break up with him even if that meant that your heart would shatter into a million pieces.

Doyoung was everything you've ever wanted, you just couldn't ask God/the universe for more. Always so lovingly taking care of you and willing to fulfilling all your emotional, physical, and sexual needs. You felt like the luckiest girl in the world for having such a wonderful man like him by your side. You loved him so much that you could feel a million butterflies in your stomach by just simply thinking about him and his adorable gummy smile but, for his own good and all of that love you felt, you knew you had to go separate ways.

You even managed to convince yourself that it was the best for everyone.

Anxiety started building up in your chest while taking your phone into your shaking hands to call him.

"Hey babe, how are you? I've been missing your lips so much all day long." He answered and as soon as you heard his sweet voice, you felt a lump forming in your throat, you could tell he was smiling on the other side of the phone, unaware of what was going to happen next.

Looking up, feeling like already losing the battle of not letting your tears fall, you took a moment to collect yourself before speaking.

"Hi Doyoung, we need to talk. No, I mean, I just have to tell you something." You said in a cold tone, worrying him.

"Y/N, what happens? Are you ok?". He was now panicking, thinking that perhaps you were hurt or something worse.

"Yeah, I'm fine. It's just that..." you gulped hard, "I want to break up". Tears slowly fell down your cheeks. There was no way going back at this point anymore.

"What?" He almost choked on his spit. "Is this a joke, honey? Because, let me tell you is not fun at all."

You wanted to tell him that it was a bad joke and apologize for scaring the shit out of him, but you knew that you couldn't.

"No, Doyoung, I'm being serious, I'm breaking up with you". This was being way harder than you thought.

"Wait, but why?!" You didn't reply. "Did I do something wrong? Y/N, you know you can tell me anything and if something is bothering you, just tell me and we can work on it, together." He sounded desperate.

"No, there's nothing to work on and you didn't do anything wrong, I just can't do this anymore." It was taking everything on you not to cry out loud.

"But why?! Just tell me a fucking reason. What happened, what changed?" He ran his fingers through his hair in exasperation.

"My feelings! My feelings have changed, Doyoung. I thought I was in love with you... but I'm not. I'm so sorry that it took me too long to realize that."

Doyoung felt his heart skipping a beat, it was getting harder and harder for him to keep breathing. "No, no, no! This can't be true! Listen, are you at your apartment, right? I'm coming, we need to talk about this in person."

It hurt you beyond words can describe the way he was trying so hard to understand and get a proper response from you, but all you could do was push him away.

"No Doyoung, don't come over! I don't want to talk or see you anymore. I just have said all that I had to. Please, leave me alone and forget about me!" You said almost yelling at him and hanging up.

Then you proceeded to block him on your phone and all your social media, leaving a desolated Doyoung, feeling like his soul left his body, crying alone quietly, his back against his bedroom door overthinking, asking himself Why did you leave him so suddenly? Wasn't he enough for you? Was it because you were already seeing someone else?

A million questions without answers ran through his head.

The following weeks were hell for Doyoung, it was like the time had frozen and he was living in another dimension. Of course, he had to keep doing his job and keeping up with his busy comeback schedule but he felt like a zombie. He couldn't sleep or eat well, and having to keep smiling and taking cute selfies for his fans as if everything was perfect, was truly killing him inside.

Doyoung had zero interest in attending any party, two months had passed since you broke up with him out of the blue and he already felt like the life and all the energy had been drained of his body, but it was Taeyong's birthday and he couldn't let his friend down on this, besides, he had insisted him a lot about going as it was the perfect excuse to finally have some fun and get distracted from his recently miserable life, even just for one night.

He was chatting listlessly with Taeyong and some other friends in the living room, taking a sip of his drink when he saw you at the entrance.

You were walking into the house, smiling happily at Jaehyun and holding his arm. At that moment he felt as if he had been poured a bucket of ice water.

"Why the fuck did you come to the party with Jaehyun?" he thought. His hands were tingling and it was hard to breathe but he wasn't sure if it was because of the jealousy of seeing you so happy with Jaehyun or because you looked absolutely stunning, like the most beautiful and perfect woman in the world.

Jaehyun and you looked over where Taeyong was standing, greeting him from afar, walking towards him to congratulate and give him his birthday gifts.

As you were approaching the birthday boy next to Doyoung, he panicked and wanted to run away, but all he could do was turn to look at his friend in despair.

"Okay, this is unbelievable. Didn't you say that I could get distracted and have fun tonight? So, why the fuck did you invite her?! Do you even remember how she just dumped me, giving zero fucks about my feelings? I thought you were my friend and you were on my side." he mumbled trying to look calm as possible.

"I'm always on your side, Doyoung. You'll see, I swear." Taeyong said with a chuckle and patting his shoulder, leaving his friend confused as he walked to meet you halfway, hugging you warmly.

"Happy birthday, handsome boy! I bought you a little something, hope you like it." You said with a bright smile, "Also, your new house is huge and beautiful, you have such a good taste. I love it! Show me that painting over there..." and walked with him across the room with an intent to avoid having awkwardly greet Doyoung.

The night was going by without a hitch, everyone seemed to be having a good time, except for Doyoung who was drinking alone, being consumed by jealousy, looking at you with anger from the corner of the kitchen. Never thought he would be able to feel anything like this, but seeing you talking, smiling, and having a good time in the company of other guys rather than him, was making him lose his mind. Besides, he couldn't understand why his friends kept being so nice and friendly with you despite them knowing how bad you hurt his feelings not so long ago, feeling hurt again and betrayed by them. Everything seemed surreal to him.

A week had passed since you broke up with Doyoung when one morning you happened to meet Jaehyun in a cafe. At first, he had every intention of coming to you to tell you a not-so-nice thing or two for breaking his friend's heart, but as soon as he saw you, he realized from your eyes swollen from crying too much that something else was going on and that you weren't having a quite good time either.

A few minutes after you're talking to Jaehyun, trying to avoid his questions, Taeyong came in and saw you biting your lip, hands shaking and trying hard not to cry in front of his friend.

When you heard the door opening, you turned around and looked him in the eyes. At that moment, even without you telling him a single word, he knew that you were suffering a lot and needed their support too.

As much as you wanted to keep the secret of what really happened, you had no choice but to tell them everything, how you felt like the biggest piece of shit in the world, how much you still loved Doyoung and how much it weighed on you to have hurt such a wonderful man like him, but not before making them swear that they would not say anything, to which they reluctantly agreed.

It might have looked like you were having fun just like everyone else, but in reality, you found it harder than you thought being in the same place as Doyoung with every passing second. You felt the urge to go to him, to talk, to ask him how he was doing, although you could easily tell just by looking at him that he was as devastated as you, only you were much better at hiding your emotions than he was, you were a good actress after all.

The music was loud and the laughter in the background was bothering him too much as if making fun of him, reminding him of how miserable his existence was. Just when he thought his night couldn't get any worse and even considering going home, he saw you dancing with Jaehyun a little bit too sexy for his liking and him being a little handsy with you that he couldn't take it anymore, feeling his blood boiling with rage.

Tired of sitting around faking a cool demeanor, you made it to the dance floor with Jaehyun as your last attempt to get Doyoung's attention or at least have some fun.

Jaehyun had always been a really great dancer, so you lost yourselves into the music, swaying your hips back and forth, his hands placed on your waist. It was all fun and games, having a great time with your friend and for the first time in what seemed like ages, you felt like all your worries faded away for at least a brief moment.

Carelessly leaving his glass of wine on the kitchen counter, Doyoung walked over where you and your friend were dancing.

"Hey!" you heard Doyoung's voice, then felt his arm wrap around your waist, pulling you towards him.

"Care to explain why the fuck are you dancing like that with Jaehyun?" He asked you in an angry tone.

Surprised, you raised your eyes to him and the way he was looking at you, his jaw clenched, eyes dark and serious, sent chills down your spine.

"I have absolutely nothing to explain to you, Doyoung. I'm a free woman, and I can dance with whoever I want." You replied to him, trying to collect yourself and sound confident.

"Hyung, calm down. It's not what you are thinking." Jaehyun tried to explain but Doyoung cut him off.

"Shut up, traitor! This is between Y/N and me." and pushed him back.

"Let's go, we have a pending conversation." He said reaching your hand.

"No, I'm having fun with my friends." you protested.

"You still owe me an explanation." Doyoung pulled you from Jaehyun and dragged you straight towards the staircase.

"Doyoung!" You yelled at him.

He said nothing as he led you down the hall, his hand tight around yours and his steps almost too quick for you to keep up with, pulling you into a free bedroom and slamming the door behind you.

Smiling, Taeyong watched in awe the whole scene, proud that his friend finally grew some balls to fight for his girl. The plan had worked out perfectly.

"What the fuck are you doing?!" You told him once he locked you both in the bedroom, taking your hand away from his, harshly.

"I'm the one who should be asking you that! Why out of all the men in the world, you have to come to the party at Jaehyun's arm? And why were you dancing with him like that, just in front of me?" He was really pissed off.

"That's none of your business and I don't have to give you any explanation. Let me remind you that we are over."

"Is Jaehyun the reason that you broke up with me? Are you fucking him?"

"What?! Oh my God, Doyoung, are you drunk?." You were shocked, how could he think that? Jaehyun was your friend and even as a brother to him.

"Answer me! I looked the way he was touching you! Is he fucking you better than I did, by any chance?" He had already lost his mind at that point.

"No! He's not the reason and of course I'm not having sex with him, either. Stop saying bullshit!"

"So, why did you suddenly dump me as if I was a toy that you just got bored of?"

"I already told you. I thought I loved you but then," you paused for a brief moment, looking at your feet. "I realized I'm not."

"I don't believe you." He snapped back with a light chuckle and you gulped.

"Actually, I don't care if you believe me or not."

"Look me in the eyes, and tell me you don't love me." He demanded you, a cocky grin on his face.

Looking away from him, you kept silent. You couldn't do that, not now that he was just a few inches away from your face looking at you with such an intense gaze. Doyoung took a step closer and his hands found the hem of your dress, sliding them down the silky material along your thighs, up to your hips and waist. You tried your hardest not to show any reaction, but feeling your breath quickening inevitably, you only closed your eyes shut at the sensation of his warm hands setting your skin on fire.

"If you don't love me, why are you trembling at the slightest touch of my hands on your body?" He said seductively taking your chin in his fingers, forcing you to look into his eyes.

Suddenly, he smirked while remembering an advice Johnny gave him when you two made official your relationship to your closest friends.

"Man, now that you're finally in a relationship, I'm gonna give you a life-changing advice because as your hyung, I care a lot about your happiness, so listen carefully. A well fucked woman never cheats or leaves you."

At first, he thought Johnny was kidding, being the horny asshole he usually is, but now his words were making a lot of sense to him.

“Doyoung, please stop.“ You said almost like a whine feeling unable to take his gaze on you anymore, but your words were cut off as Doyoung leaned over you, his lips slowly getting closer to yours.

"I guess I'm gonna have to remind you who you belong to." He whispered in your ear and before you could figure out what was going on, he was pushing you against the door, pinning you with his own body, his lips pressing into yours hungrily, trapping you.

At first, you wanted to pull away from him, pushing his chest with your hands but you missed him so much, so it only took you a few seconds before giving up, wrapping your arms around his neck, kissing him back with all your love.

You missed his plumped soft lips, his taste, the warmth of his mouth, the way he ran his tongue over your lip before he nipped it, the feeling of his tongue against yours fighting for dominance.

The kiss was messy and needy, all tongues and teeth. Meanwhile, his hand was working its way down your still covered cunt, his fingers tracing circles around your clit, making you moan softly on his mouth, then pushing your panties to the side, he slid one finger through your slit.

"Fuck, you're already wet just by kissing you. So fucking wet and only for me, baby." Doyoung's expression went from surprised to amused in a matter of a second as the corner of his lips lifted in a proud smirk.

"Yes, only for you." You said biting your lip.

Trailing kisses down your neck to your shoulders and making the straps slide through them, his hands reached behind your back to unzip your dress letting it pool down your ankles, leaving you just in heels and a lace thong in front of him.

His eyes went straight to your breasts and he made a noise deep in his throat, almost a growl, his mouth watering at the sight of them. He took your left nipple with his mouth as if he was starving, nibbling and sucking at your flesh while his hands were roaming all your body, making you moan.

You slid your hands down his body to his belt buckle until you were able to cup your hand on the bulge in his pants, earning a moan from his lips, you quickly undid his belt and zipper as you desperately began massaging his cock.

Letting up a sigh, he pulled out from your breast, dropping to his knees, he removed you one shoe and then the other, his fingertips trailing down your skin playing with the waistband of your thong for a while and then pulled the lacy garment down your legs torturously slow, helping you to step out of it. His eyes were glued to your center as soon as it was revealed to him.

He brushed his lips all over the sensitive skin of your abdomen, kissing every curve.

"Doyoung." You whined.

“What do you want?”

“I want you.” You felt pathetic begging and being so needy for him.

“Oh, really? With the way you were dancing minutes ago, I guess you would rather be with Jaehyun.” He snapped, licking his lips.

"I don't want him. I want you and only you, Doyoung. I'm sorry." You bit your lip and rubbed your thighs together to get some friction.

"Open." He told you when his face was level at your hips.

He propped one of your legs up on his shoulder and your head fell against the door as you stared down at Doyoung attaching his pretty lips to your cunt.

He had you melting into the door, whimpering and harshly grabbing the hair at the back of his head. The harder his tongue worked into your clit, the more you arched your hips towards him, desperate and begging for more. But it's Kim Doyoung the one we're talking about, he really wanted to tease you and drive you crazy, so of course, he wasn't going to give you what you wanted right away. He abruptly stopped and stood up when he sensed that you were about to come on his mouth.

A frustrated whimper leaving your lips. "No! What the -?" You could hardly talk, breathe or even think at all.

"Come here." He took your wrist leading you across the room to an armchair in front of a huge mirror, sitting on it, he just patted his lap and unbuttoned his dress shirt, your eyes tracing over every inch of his abdomen.

"Sit down and spread your legs for me." He commanded while his arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you down, your back leaning against his chest with your legs spread and locked by his.

“I want you to look at yourself in the mirror and do what I say." Doyoung whispered seductively in your ear, nibbling a little on it, one hand making its way down your body.

You nodded eagerly. “I’ll do anything you want.”

He looked awfully pleased with your answer, and you couldn’t believe how hot it was the whole situation. He’d always been cocky about the effect he knew he had on your body, and that was turning you on both so much.

"Good girl. First, I need you to get your fingers nice and wet. Use your pretty mouth.”

You slipped your fingers into your mouth, making sure to keep eye contact.

“I want you to slowly slide your fingers down to your stomach.”

You did as you were told, letting out a sigh and feeling skin on fire.

“Tell me again, who do you want?” Doyoung asked once more, teasing you.

“You, Doyoung.”

“Slide your fingers to your cunt and show me how much you want me. Let me see how you touch yourself.” He challenged with a cocky smile.

You had never done such a thing, but you obeyed him right away crazed with lust and desire, otherwise, you weren't sure if you would be capable of letting him see you touching yourself. You began with slow circles on your clit, biting your lower lip to suppress your little moans.

The contact of your fingers in your heat felt so good, but the way Doyoung was looking at you through the mirror, was the main reason you were turning insane.

"Please touch me, Doyoung. I need you." You were desperate, needy. You wanted him to bring you to your climax, not yourself.

“Stop,” he told you listening to your pleas.

A silent moan slipped your lips at the feeling of his slender fingers entering your now dripping cunt so easily, stretching your walls while his other hand cupped your breasts massaging them.

He moved his lips to your neck, switching between running his tongue over your warm skin to kissing and biting. His fingers curled up inside of you, hitting your g-spot making you gasp hard, leaning your head back and closing your eyes shut.

"I told you to look at yourself in the mirror." He told you with a deep angry voice through his gritted teeth while staring straight into your eyes through the mirror.

His hand left your breasts to grip hard at your jaw to make sure you stare at yourself and what he was doing to you, knowing you were enjoying it because he could feel you clenching around his fingers and getting even wetter than before.

He always loved watching your pretty face all screwed with pleasure while he fucked you, but now watching himself pleasing you just hit different to him. Getting to see the entire picture like in a porn film and knowing that you were also watching him getting off while pleasing you, made things 10 times more kinky but intimate at the same time.

He kept thrusting his fingers inside your pussy at a fast pace, his thumb rubbing your clit mercilessly.

The view was extremely hot and dirty, but addictive. It didn't take you much to begin feeling your orgasm building up again, his skilled fingers working wonders on you.

“Why are you so quiet, baby? Let yourself go, moan for me." He told you biting your neck, his hand let go of your jaw to keep cupping your breast, pinching your nipple, and that was all you needed.

You squirted all over his hand, your body convulsing in pleasure, screaming and gasping, curses, moans and the lewd sounds of his fingers still thrusting inside you through your orgasm filling the room.

"God, you have no idea of how fucking hot you are." He praised you while pulling his fingers out of your soaked cunt and up to your mouth.

"Taste yourself, babe." And you did it, letting your head rest against Doyoung’s shoulder you sucked them clean.

Then, you turned around to look at him and before you could tell, his lips were on yours again, kissing you hard.

"I really need to properly fuck you or I will go insane." Doyoung said making you both stand up from the armchair.

“Please, Doyoung, use me however you want.” You plead to him.

You would have done whatever he asked right now, no questions, willing to let him fuck you as hard and deep as he wanted to, so he pulled you into the bed letting you in all fours and got rid of his clothes.

Excited to be able to feel him inside of you again, you rested your head on the mattress and lifted your ass up to give him a good view of your swollen, glistening cunt.

You heard him cursing at the sight and pumping his length a little before grabbing your hips to line him up to you. He rubbed his tip at your entrance, lubing it.

"Don't tease, please." You whined.

"I'm not teasing you, I swear, baby. I've been wanting this since the very first moment I saw you at the front door". He admitted.

As he finally sank into you, you both let out sighs of pleasure. You thought you were already used to his size, but given the months you were deprived of feeling his cock, you felt him stretching you out like it was the first time, also, he was far from the term "small".

Doyoung set a fast and deep pace inside of you and it had you moaning every time he bottomed out, oversensitive. The way his cock filled you was perfect as always, hitting all the right places.

You grabbed a pillow in a desperate attempt to muffle your moans but before you could even realize it, Doyoung tore it away from your mouth.

“I don’t think so, honey.” He told you reaching around you, relentless with his thrusts and grabbing both of your hands. He pulled both of your arms behind you until he had your wrists linked behind your back, clasped underneath his palm.

"I want you louder, let them all downstairs know I'm fucking your pussy so good like no other could ever do.” He demanded you, leaning forward to whisper in your ear.

It was almost too much, the sound of your juices and his ballsack slapping against your ass were fueling your pleasure that had been built up so much to this point, you knew it wouldn’t be long until you reached a second orgasm.

Feeling you close, already clenching around his dick, he fastened the pace of his thrust even more.

"So tight. You always take me so well, baby." He said between moans, feeling he was about to lose his mind out of pleasure.

Taking a handful of your hair, he pulled your back up to his chest, so you were both kneeling upright. One hand kept grabbing hard at your hip while the other was now around your neck, choking you as he fucked into you insanely hard. You wanted to tell him that you were about to come again, but you couldn't even think, let alone talk. You were an absolute moaning mess.

You leaned your head back in pleasure. The noises he had you making, were louder and dirtier than anything that had ever come out of your mouth.

He was right, indeed. No man in the world could ever fuck you like he was doing and you were absolutely loving every fucking second of it.

The hand that was gripping your hips before, was now rubbing circles on your clit.

“Be a good girl and come for me again." He whispered near your ear, squeezing your neck a little more and that was all it took you to come around him, making him moan loudly as well as he kept fucking you faster and deeper, helping you to increase your high, testing all your limits.

It was the most amazing and mind blowing but also the most terrifying orgasm you had ever had in your entire life.

You cried out in pleasure, your eyes rolled to the back of your head, your whole body trembled, core pulsing hard around him with each intense wave of bliss. You swore you were about to die right then and there, or at least to pass out. So you did.

The one thing you were sure about, was that he got what he wanted. You had been as loud as Doyoung wanted as you could feel your throat raw once you regained consciousness.

Doyoung was close to his own release too, but knowing you were way too oversensitive now to keep taking him, he slowly slipped his cock out of you, making you whimper at the empty feeling, turning you around and placing you down into the bed, letting you rest on your back, but you still wanted to do something else for him.

You got up a bit, so you were resting on your elbows, opening your mouth and sticking out your tongue.

His hooded eyes looked down at you with lust, looking at how you were so screwed but eager to take till the last drop of his cum in your mouth.

His hand jerked his cock harshly, grunting with every stroke until he spilled his cum all over your mouth and breasts. You still dared to pull him closer and lazily suck this cock clean, until you had him begging you to stop.

Letting up a satisfied sigh, Doyoung moved closer to you, cupping your face in his hands, kissing you passionately, still having a taste of himself in the kiss.

"Are you ok? I'm sorry if I was too rough, I guess I just got carried away a little." He asked breaking the kiss, now hovering over you. His usual soft gaze got back again but he looked as exhausted just as you felt.

You nodded at him, smiling. “I love when you fuck me rough, when you just take from me what you want. Is so fucking hot.” and kissed him again.

This was a whole new side of Doyoung that you didn't know before this night.

He always was a good boy, cute, funny, charming, a bit sassy, responsible and hard working. A true gentleman, to say the least.

I mean, is not like you two hadn't fucked a little hard before, but it was definitely nothing compared to this, and you were already willing him to fuck you like an animal again.

"Okay, I'm gonna keep it in mind." He said with a small chuckle, getting off the bed. "Waint a minute, I’ll be right back." and he disappeared in what you supposed was a bathroom. When he came back, he had a wet washcloth and a glass of water that he placed on the nightstand before gently beginning to clean you up, like the prince he is, making you blush.

After he had finished, he discarded the washcloth and settled back on the bed, laying on his side to face you.

“I'm sorry for being an asshole to you tonight. I don't know what happened to me when I saw you with Jae.” He admitted.

"No, don't be sorry. I'm the only one who has to apologize, I..." He cut you off with a soft peck on your lips.

"Shhh, don't say a word. I really don't want to ruin this perfect moment with you. We can talk later, now let's sleep." He told you with his eyes closed and his forehead pressed into yours. He was afraid that you might end up arguing again.

You just nodded at him, letting him get you both into the covers, cuddling. Then, you let yourself fall into slumber with your face on his chest inhaling his sweet scent, while he was caressing your back and kissing the top of your head.

The next morning you woke up with him spooning you and letting soft kisses on the side of your neck and shoulder.

"Good morning, beautiful," said when he noticed you were already awake. His deep morning voice that you loved, making you shiver.

"Good morning, handsome," you replied happily, turning around your head to see him and you found him looking at you with a wide smile and a spark in his eyes.

You couldn't help yourself but kiss him.

He kissed you back, slowly biting your lower lip and sucking at your tongue making you moan. This time the kiss was still heated but gentle and not hurried at all. You both had always enjoyed way too much just kissing each other.

God, you were in love so fucking much and didn't want this moment to ever end.

You felt his fingers sneaking between your legs, and he groaned satisfied noticing your wet folds.

"I can't believe you are already soaking, baby." He said moaning into the kiss, spreading your wetness with his fingers all over your slit.

"It's all your fault." You said boosting his ego.

He kept playing with your folds and clit, still kissing you, determined to drive you crazy once again, but you had other plans in mind.

"I want to ride you, love." Feeling in your ass his cock growing hard, you told him making him stop his magic between your legs.

He sat up, his back resting against the headboard. He licked his fingers before reaching for your hips. Once you were comfortably straddling him, you spit on your hand and slid it down to wrap around his dick that was pressed between your bodies, squeezing it a little.

He swallowed hard at your touch, reaching up to gently brush a strand of hair out of your face. Your hands began to slowly massage his dick, your thumb swiped over the head, causing him to shudder and fasten his breath.

His head tipped back in bliss, feeling like he was about to combust, Doyoung lifted your hips, so you sat up further on your knees, holding yourself above him. After brushing his tip against your entrance a few times, you finally lowered down on top of him.

As you sank down over his dick, you both sighed as he filled you inch by inch. You stayed still for a while, still a bit sore from the last night, but you kept him deep inside.

You slid your arms around Doyoung’s shoulders, holding him close to you. You cupped his face, looking him in the eyes, your thumbs caressing his cheeks lovingly making him smile before your lips found his, again.

He moved his lips from yours to your jaw, then to your neck, sucking a little on the crook, and finally down to your chest, spreading wet kisses all over your breasts, massaging them softly.

Closing your eyes, you arched your back upwards wanting to feel more of his mouth over you. Doyoung slid his hands from your back and hip, to grip into the softness of your ass, helping you to slowly move your hips, up and down in circular movement.

You kept bouncing and rolling your hips, clenching every time you pulled out a bit, really wanting to make him feel at least a fraction of the immense amount of pleasure he had given to you last night and it seemed that you were doing a great job, given the way he looked and the sounds escaping from his lips. His moans were the most beautiful sounds ever alongside his singing.

The slow, soft morning sex with you was his favorite way ever to start a day.

His head tilted back in pure bliss, his black hair falling on his sweaty forehead, his cheeks slightly flushed, his beautiful lips parted open moaning your name softly and his eyes slightly open, just enough to keep looking at you.

You were grateful for the daylight, allowing you to see just how flawless he was, from head to toe.

"I love you, Doyoung," you told him feeling a tear roll down your cheek. It was being too much, so many emotions at the same time and you just couldn't hold them all anymore, feeling overwhelmed. "I love you so much." you said again.

Doyoung snapped out of his pleasure trance at hearing you say that and pulled you closer, wiping your tears away with kisses all over your face.

"I know, baby. I love you too, so fucking much." He assured, hugging you lovingly.

“Hold on,” Doyoung whispered. His hands gripped onto your hips again, lifting you up. You only had a moment of rest before he began thrusting his hips up.

“Fuck,” you practically shouted, your hands slamming up against the headboard behind his head. It took you a little to react and start to move again, meeting him in the middle.

As much as you wanted to keep up with the thrusting, your thighs were exhausted and Doyoung noticed it.

So he flipped you onto your back and he was hovering over you, propped up on his elbows as he continued fucking you.

He made you feel so wanted and loved. The feeling of his delicious cock inside of you was always heavenly, he fitted in the most perfect way, hitting all the right places every time as if your body was made just for him.

Doyoung moved both of your hands so he could lace his fingers with yours over your head. The look in his eyes was so intense, telling you so much without words.

He brought his face closer to yours, letting his open lips hover over yours breathing each other's breath keeping eye contact. He slightly brushed your lips, before capturing them in a passionate kiss as he kept pleasuring you with long, slow, deep thrusts, just the way you both liked.

“Fuck, you feel so good." Speaking on your lips between kisses as he moved his hand to hold your hip.

"You too, baby. Ah! You feel just perfect." You said moaning, making him smirk on your lips. "Faster Doyoung, please."

Quickening his thrusts as he lifted your right leg and let it rest over his shoulder, hitting you faster and deeper. He knew he was hitting your g-spot with every thrust with how you were reacting, your walls pulsing around him, squeezing tight his cock.

“Oh my god, yes! Right there. Fuck! Keep going.” You said moaning with eyes shut closed.

He couldn't believe that someone as beautiful and perfect as you loved him, feeling the luckiest guy.

"So pretty. Still can't believe you're mine, baby." He said caressing your cheek.

"Yes, Doyoung. I'm yours, all yours, forever." You replied him moving your hand to the back of his neck, sliding your fingers through his hair, and pulling his lips back to yours, letting your tongue glide along with his.

"I'm almost there. Where do you want me?" He said breaking the kiss.

"Inside, I wanna feel you cum inside me. I'm close too." You really craved the sensation of his dick twitching inside you and his cum filling you up.

It only took a few more thrusts for you both cum together and you could have sworn that you were in heaven. His body jerked slightly as he spilled inside of you with a deep, low groan, his head buried into your neck.

Later, Doyoung pulled out of you and rolled to the side, collapsing next to you, watching you in awe as your body still twitched with the aftershocks.

"Beautiful. I want to make you come like this every day, for the rest of my life." He said kissing your forehead softly, making you smile and feeling that your heart could explode with so much love and happiness.

After a long, quiet moment where you both just kept looking in the eyes at each other, you finally talked.

"Doie, I really want to apologize for being such a bitch to you."

"No, you don't have to. I only care about here and now." He tried to cut your apologies off again.

"No, please. Let me finish." You said sitting up facing him and taking his hands. "You didn't deserve what I did to you. I was forced to break up with you by my company and somehow I thought it was the best for us, but I just didn't know how to do it, so I figured talking to you on the phone was the best option as I hadn't to look at you, but you were making it harder than I expected... and I treated you so, so bad. I'm so sorry, Doie. Please, let me make it up to you, even if it takes me a lifetime, I know it's worth the try." Tears began to roll down your face, but you kept going.

"I really meant what I told you minutes ago. I love you Doyoung, I love you so fucking much that it hurts, and there are no words in any language that can explain what I truly feel for you."

Doyoung pulled you closer to hug you tight, feeling tears of joy begin to pool in his eyes.

"Forgive me for being such a coward, for taking the easy way out, and not fighting enough for our love, for taking decisions that concern both of us without consulting you and messing with everything." He had you practically sobbing in his arms, caressing your back, and spreading tender kisses all over your face.

"I have nothing to forgive you for, my love. You're right, you should have told me what was happening then, so we could find a solution together, but I don't blame you because I know you only wanted the best for us. Now, the only thing that matters to me is that you love me as much as I love you. More than ever, I'm sure that you are the love of my life and I will never let you go, okay?

He was so considerate that you didn't understand how could you deserve such an incredible man.

"I love you Doyoung, I love you and I will keep telling you till my last breath, I swear." You told him smiling at him, still with tears on your face but this time, they were of pure happiness.

"I love you more, my dear. Forever and ever." Said smiling you back, wiping your tears away with his thumbs.

You were lying naked in bed for a while longer, cuddling, kissing each other lovingly as if the world was about to end.

"Hey baby, as much as I love being like this with you, I'm starving. We should go to the kitchen downstairs to grab something," You just nodded at him, placing a kiss on his temple. "but first, we should take a shower. We are a little sticky." He said scrunching his nose, faking disgust.

Doyoung helped you to stand up from the bed and took you to the bathroom lifting you on his arms on bridal style. He always loved being such a show off with you, and you couldn't help but laugh.

Being in the shower bathing each other, you felt that you weren't just getting rid of the dirt and sweat, but the water also washed away all your concerns, making you feel lighter than ever and excited for this fresh new start, with new illusions and hopes for the great future that awaited you, together.

[plus-size-reader]

Should Be

Damon Salvatore x Plus size!reader

Word Count: 2897 words

Warnings: none

Summary: Damon’s human partner gets jealous of Katherine when she gets out of the tomb.

—————————————————————————————————

Katherine coming back from the tombs wasn’t ideal for anyone.

There was a reason she’d been locked away for as long as she had and really, you didn’t get why they were letting her out in the first place.

The world was going to keep turning whether or not they let her be a part of it. At least, that was what Damon had assured you when the news broke that she had resurfaced.

You didn’t want to care.

In reality, her coming back to Mystic Falls wasn’t any of your business. You hadn’t ever had anything to do with her, and you wouldn’t, even if she came back.

Still, it would be a lie to say that you weren’t really comfortable with it.

The two of them, Katherine and Damon, they had quite a bit of history and you just couldn’t fit the feeling in the pit of your stomach that it was going to be bad news for you. It just didn’t seem right.

Maybe you were jealous, or insecure, or something like that but it didn’t really matter. All you knew was that you weren’t itching for her to come back into any of your lives.

Damon was different, for the better, than when the two of you met but Katherine had quite the hold on him for a really long time and you were worried how her poking around in your lives would affect him.

It couldn’t be good, even if she was magically on her best behavior, somehow.

You just didn’t see that happening.

You weren’t jealous, of course, you had to keep reminding yourself of that. You and Damon had been together for several years, and you knew that he loved you. It was the sort of connection that you’d never had with another person, having been enthralled with him ever since he saved your life.

As it would turn out, that was quite the bonding exercise.

However, no experience you and Damon had ever shared could compare to all the time he and Katherine had been together.

They had been in love, and whether it was real for her or not, Damon had never really even gotten over her betrayal. He cared about her deeply, and you couldn’t imagine how seeing her again would make him feel.

Until recently, you thought that you trusted Damon more than anything.

You trusted him with your life for God's sake and you were sure that nothing would ever change that, but evidently, Katherine had decided to challenge that notion.

Ever since she’d come back into all your lives, she had made a choice to just inject herself into every situation you were in. Even now, from where you were in the bathroom brushing your teeth, you could hear her talking to him in the adjacent bedroom.

It was nothing more than pathetic small talk about their past together but it was more than enough to make your blood boil.

You knew more than enough about the bond they had shared and the time they spent together, you didn’t need to hear it from her on top of everything else that was on your plate.

She might not have been too much of a real threat to you, because you knew that no matter what she did, there was no undoing what she’d done to him but that didn’t make you like her any better.

Frankly, even knowing that, you’d had enough of Lady Katherine.

Her presence here, where you lived, was like a slap in the face.

Decades had passed since they were even in the same room and even then, she had done nothing more than treat him like dirt.

It seemed like common sense that she was just going to do it again, but he was letting her. Damon was barely even putting up a fight and really, you were finding it hard to believe.

After everything that she had put him through, why would he even entertain her presence in this place.

He didn’t owe her anything, not anymore.

You thought that what you and Damon had was more important to him than anything else, but if her coming back into his life was enough to make him question that, it said a lot.

So, even though you wanted to go tell her to get out, you kept it to yourself.

Not well, but you kept it to yourself.

You may have been brushing your teeth more aggressively than you ever had in your entire life, but you hadn’t said anything yet.

For you, that was a win.

Deep down, you weren’t really worried about losing him to her. If Katherine had actually bothered to get to know him all those years ago, she would know that Damon was one of the most devoted and loving men in the world.

He was now, and you were sure that he had been before all this.

You just had to break down those walls of his first.

It took some time but it was well worth it once you earned his trust. You knew that he would do anything for you, and anyone else he loved, she just didn’t actually care.

Not that it mattered to her what kind of bond you two had.

As far as she was concerned, you were just some temporary fling that Damon would get bored of and feed off of at some point, like he did most of the others. He had never actually kept a girlfriend around for very long.

He wasn’t the kind, and in any case, she was sure that you couldn’t hold a candle to her.

She had a hold on him that had lasted, at least somewhat, for all the time that she’d been locked away and in a matter of days, she was sure she could have the raven-haired male eating out of the palm of her hand.

It was that easy.

All she had to do was prove it, and at this rate, it wasn’t going to take long at all.

Here she was, sitting new to him on your fancy little bedspread with him, practically hanging on her every word while you were tucked away. Before long, she wouldn’t have to put up with you anymore at all.

He was bound to come to his senses at some point, and she had nothing but time.

She could wait it out.

Tonight though, she couldn’t have gotten away from you that easily.

You could only hide away in the bathroom for so long and once that time had run out, you entered the bathroom with a casual sigh leaving Katherine’s lips at the sight of you.

Just when she was starting to bring up all those good memories they shared, here you came to ruin it all.

“Could you please move over?” you asked, only looking at her as much as you absolutely had to, catching the tail end of an eye roll that you would have been okay with missing entirely.

All she did was scoff, clearly inconvenienced.

“Why? Am I hurting you here?” she asked, not bothering to cover up the hatefulness in her tone, not that you or Damon was surprised. Speaking of, the dark haired male was still just sitting there, waiting for someone to lunge at the other.

He wasn’t a huge fan of her being here either, but he was trying to be civil.

There was a chance they would need her and burning that bridge too early could cause problems along the way, or at least that was what Stefan told him.

He’d lived without her for a long time and he’d be fine if she fell off the face of the earth tomorrow. Though, if she kept testing you, she may not make it until tomorrow.

She may have had the upper hand over you as far as vampire strength was concerned but you all knew that if she tried to do anything to you, he would turn her head so far around that she’d be the one really out of place.

He wasn’t going to let her hurt you, not if it really came down to it.

“That’s where I sleep,” you explained, gesturing to where she was, sprawled out on your side of the bed, without a care in the world. It wasn’t the kind of thing that you even thought you had to explain but she was pushing you.

She wanted to start a fight.

To Katherine, this was all a game and she had nothing to lose.

There were no rules and she was betting on the fact that she could break you with very little effort.

However, there was one thing she was forgetting. You and Damon shared something she could never hope to have with him, something she had given up a long time ago.

Love

You respected Damon and you cared about him.

The two of you were together through the good times and the bad, not just when you needed something from him or you were bored. In that way, she couldn’t hope to touch what you shared.

Still, there was one thing that worried you.

Katherine was gorgeous.

Her body was incredible, and she had no problem showing it off which she had made very clear tonight. Where you would have wanted to hide away and never go outside again, she just strolled around in nearly nothing, without a care in the world.

Emotionally, you and Damon couldn’t have been closer but physically, you couldn’t help but feel like she would beat you had there been some kind of competition.

Even you would have chosen her over you in that regard.

When she stood from the bed, dramatically throwing her hair over her shoulder to give Damon one final wink before leaving, you got a good look at her long legs, even further making you rethink yourself.

Why was Damon with you when he could have had her all this time? Sure, he didn’t know she was down there until today but now that he knew, there was nothing keeping him from picking her.

After she’d left, you plopped down on your side of the bed, immediately turning away from Damon and cuddling into your pillow.

You knew it wasn’t his fault you were having these thoughts about yourself, but you didn’t want to be around him right now.

You didn’t want him to be reminded of what he could have had.

“What’s going on with you?” he asked, after a few seconds of sitting in the dark, staring at the back of your head without a kiss on his lips. You always kissed him before bed, but tonight, you didn’t even seem to care if he was breathing.

It was unlike you and it worried him, not that he would ever admit it.

You didn’t answer right away, letting his words simmer in the air for a few moments as you thought about what you wanted to say. There weren’t really words that would make any sense to him.

From where he was sitting, you would seem jealous and out of your mind but this wasn’t about Katherine anymore.

For you, this was about how he’d settled with the wrong woman and you couldn’t help but feel like he was lying to you about his feelings.

How could he be attracted to you when you looked like you did?

You had asked him before, on a bad day when you woke up feeling huge and ugly, but this was different. Katherine prancing around here had shown you everything that you could have looked like.

What you should have looked like.

“It’s nothing, let’s just go to bed” you tried, far too physically and mentally exhausted to have this conversation.

For now, you just wanted to get some sleep, you could deal with Katherine and all her business tomorrow.

As for your body, that was just going to have to be tomorrow's problem as well. Physical exhaustion always won out over mental anguish, no matter how much you tried to force your own hand in that regard.

All you could hope was that you felt better in the morning, and maybe then, you could explain all this weird stuff to Damon.

~

You woke up to a cold bed, which was pretty much par for the course when it came to sleeping next to a vampire but when you rolled around and found he was gone, that was when you got a little worried.

That was new.

Damon never got out of bed before you, if he even got out of bed when you did, and you couldn’t help but be concerned about what he could have been doing.

Knowing Damon, it could have literally been anything.

Though, the last thing you expected to find when you turned the corner was the man you loved, trying and failing to make what smelled like chocolate chip pancakes and scrambled eggs.

“Good morning my love, would you care to explain why I went to bed without a goodnight kiss?” he wondered, focusing more on the glass of bourbon in his hands than the breakfast that was surely burning on the stove.

He always tried his best where the more domestic stuff was concerned but it just wasn’t his strong suit. He just wasn’t as much of a wiz in the kitchen as he liked to pretend that he was in moments like this.

“After I put out the grease fire you’re about to start” you sighed, moving the pan from the fire and setting it in the sink.

Damon wasn’t going to let you get off easy after last night, but the most you could do was buy yourself some time before you made an absolute fool out of yourself.

He wasn’t about to just let this go.

He never did.

“I’m serious, you got all squirrely after Katherine left” Damon prodded, his hands falling on your hips, which he used as leverage to turn you toward him, trapped between his body and the sink.

You sighed, desperately hoping that you wouldn’t have to have this conversation but knowing that you would.

It was embarrassing.

Part of you, the mature part, knew that this wasn’t that big of a deal but the other part couldn’t help but hate her. She wasn’t just some beautiful girl, Mystic Falls was full of those, but Katherine was a threat.

This was much more about how she was clearly trying to take Damon from you than actually just trying to be a friend to any of you.

She wasn’t that kind.

“Excuse me if I’m not thrilled to have your psychotic ex girlfriend prancing around in her underwear” you scoffed, not understanding what it really was that he was missing.

You were projecting, of course, but there was no real way around it. As insecure as Katherine made you, her being here was just as much of the problem. You didn’t want her injecting herself into your life.

It wasn’t her place, and the idea that he wanted you to somehow be okay with it was really messing with you.

“Cute”

From Damon, that was little more than a casual huff but he knew you better than to just believe that. It wasn’t like you to act like you did last night, not with him, even where she was concerned.

You were better than that.

You were better than her, that was why he didn’t think anything of her immature little games.

“Now the truth” he prompted, a soft smile on his face as he waited for you to tell him what was really eating at you. This had been dragging out for way too long, and he really just wanted to get it over with.

He wanted to help  you feel better, and he would do anything he could to make that happen, you both knew that.

Damon would have gladly turned her inside out if it would make a difference, but first, you had to tell him what was bothering you. He was good, but he wasn’t that good. You had to give him something to go off of.

“She is what I should be, what you deserve” you muttered, the words barely leaving your lips as you thought about them. You didn’t want to admit it to him, almost as much as you didn’t want to admit it to yourself.

You didn't like that she got under your skin, because she knew that she could. The more you let her, the more she got what she wanted.

...and you hated that.

“I think I’d rather have you” Damon shrugged, not even hesitating in his response. Given the two of you, and the person that Katherine was, there was nothing in the world he would have rather had than you.

He definitely didn’t want her.

Katherine had turned her back on Damon a million and one times, and at the end of the day, she couldn’t have given a damn what happened to him but you weren’t like that. You had the biggest heart of anyone he’d ever known, in several lifetimes.

There was nothing he wouldn’t trade, if it meant that he got to keep you.

At the end of the day, you were his person and he knew a good thing when he had it.