#But Nebulae are cool idk

[celestialdaily]

The celestial object of the day is the Water Lily Nebula!

This pre-planetary nebula (the phase before becoming a planetary nebula) has been discovered to have organic hydrocarbons that constitute the base for life!

[maraschinotopped]

happy easter. im not christian or anything but i did some egg decorating for it with family and the fact that ive been thinking about naq recently caused the two ideas to collide. have a little scene doodle about n&q + celeste doing egg decorating. nova and starstraw are there in spirit (couldnt fit them in)

bonus doodle

[oasisofgalaxies]

Just learned that there’s a place in Svalbard, Norway that has a catalogue of seeds in case there’s some kind of global disaster and humanity needs to repopulate plant species. Which is awesome! My only issue is!

If there’s an apocalypse how is anyone gonna get there!

[fourteenfifteen]

jet lag…………….

[darkxwolf17]

crossing my fingers SO HARD for arctic versus tropic (rambling in tags)

[shuuos]

trying to figure out visions for the mfb cast because. i can feel my interest in genshin growing stronger with arlecchino's banner drop.....

it's surprisingly difficult thought because like yeah they have elements associated with their beys (kind of. i'm looking at you "rock leone but uses wind moves." i'm looking at you "flame libra but uses sound????" i'm looking at you "my original name is wind aquario but i have a water motif.") but translating those into visions is iffy bc it's not a guarentee it'll fit. ryuga with an electro vision? fantastic, ten out of ten, no complaints. kenta with a pyro vision? i can see it working. acceptable. but then like..... in my head gingka fits the criteria for a hydro or anemo vision... and don't even get me STARTED on kyoya he's not giving anemo but his whole thing is tornados but he doesn't FEEL anemo. or maybe he does. an argument could be made for geo or perhaps pyro. this has been consuming my mind for the past two days.

[pyro-madder]

forgor the seasonal fieldguide

manwhore mansplain manipulate

[dearieshima]

MOONLIT DREAM

✦ SUMMARY

╰┈➤ Based on Zayne's Moonlit Dream card, but expanded. Zayne and you are transported back to the Qing Dynasty by a jade pendant infused with protocore energy after it activates unexpectedly in Zayne's car. Reunited after being separated, you both set out to recover the pendant and return home, leading you to a skilled but strict jade craftsman.

"I pride myself on my thoroughness," he added, his voice now a deep, sensual rumble. "I promise I won't miss a single detail."

✦ C.W

╰┈➤ AFAB!reader, a little nibbling, some boob worship (f. receiving), teasing, switch!zayne, fingering, unprotected vaginal sex, a little roleplay with Zayne's status, praises, 4000+ words, idk public sex maybe, established relationship

As the sun began its slow descent, casting warm hues across the sky, Zayne decided to skip class, inviting you to a secluded picnic on the hillside, just beyond the city's edge. The air was fragrant with the scent of wildflowers, and time seemed to stretch lazily, each moment steeped in tranquility. You both lingered there, speaking in hushed tones as the world around you softened, the village fading into the distance like a dream.

The day gently gave way to the cold of dusk and Zayne’s modest home, nestled within his shifu’s Siheyuan, beckoned you back with warmth. The evening sky, now awash in the twilight’s embrace, slowly surrendered to the rising moon. Its soft, pale glow spilled across the landscape, transforming everything into silvered stillness.

After sharing a quiet dinner, you wandered together to the riverbank, where Zayne’s work table stood. Scattered across its weathered surface were fragments of jade and a small carving knife. Your gaze drifted to a jade pendant, rutty yet holding a quiet charm.

The pendant was rough and dulled in its crevices as you traced the intricate patterns with your fingers. Curiosity tugged at you, “Zayne, can I try?”

Half-expecting a gentle refusal, to your surprise, Zayne stepped aside, offering you the knife. “Go ahead then.”

Settling into his lap, you tried to mimic his movements from earlier, the jade cool beneath your fingers. Your hands fumbled awkwardly and it made you look like you were sharpening the knife sgainast the rock, when Zayne’s warm fingers enveloped yours, steadying them.

"Here, you need to use a little more force," he murmured softly, his breath warm against your ear. “Try again.”

As you grew more confident, he quietly let go, allowing you to work on your own. Minutes drifted by in the soft silence of the riverbank, where the boats occasionally knocked together, their gentle echoes lulling the air. You’d long since abandoned the pendant, drawn instead to the lake, dipping your feet into its cool waters as you gazed at the rising moon through its reflection.

“Do you think there's a moon as beautiful as this watching over Linkon right now?” you mused, your voice soft as the night, turning to look at Zayne.

His head was supported on his hand, eyes once cradling hazel nebulas, now sealed in peaceful slumber. He was propped facing you, as though he had watched you until sleep claimed him.

With a mischievous smile, you scooted near him and reached for the ink brush on his table and lightly trailed its tip down the bare skin of his chest, revealed by his loosely draped robe. His breath hitched, a shiver coursing through him at the gentle stroke. It was only when the brush dipped toward his stomach that he stirred, his hand catching yours in a swift yet lazy motion, his eyes fluttering open with a smile that matched the moon’s glow.

"Someone gets distracted easily between carving jade and admiring the moon," he teased, drawing you into his lap.

You laughed, wriggling in his hold, but Zayne wouldn’t let you go. In a playful tumble, you both fell together, with Zayne landing gently on top of you. His weight was warm, grounding, and for a moment, you simply stared into each other’s eyes, the world around you fading. Almost caught in a trance, you let go of the brush that was hanging from your hand over the patio, feeling the tiny splash kiss your fingers.

With a subtle motion, his fingers intertwined with your newly-found free hand, warm and steady, sending a shiver down your spine. You wrapped your legs around Zayne's waist, pulling him closer, feeling the heat of his body against yours. His breath quickened, and a soft chuckle escaped his lips. "During this period," he murmured, his voice teasingly casual, "the only practice in protection was abstinence."

"Really?" you purred, your voice low and sultry.

He shifted his weight, his body pressing firmly against yours, the heat between you discernible. His fingers traced a delicate path down your arm, forcing your sleeves to ball downwards. "Yes," he murmured. “Abstinence was considered the only effective birth control and prevention for sexually transmitted infections.”

"Interesting," you breathed, your eyes lowering to meet his desire flickering in their depths. "And why is Dr. Zayne enlightening me on this?"

"Consider it an added benefit of my profession,” Zayne said, his voice dropping to a seductive whisper. His fingers continued to trace your skin, each touch igniting a fire within you. "As a doctor, I should make sure my patients are well-versed in the dangers of reckless sex,”

His fingers trailed back upwards to the pulse on your wrist. “And as a gentleman, I'm being cautious. But—"

His gaze darkened, a smoldering desire burning in his eyes.

"As a man, I'm testing the limits of my own restraint," he murmured.

"...Your shifu won't be too thrilled if you fail to hand over the finished pendant tomorrow."

"Then perhaps,” he murmured, his voice lowering to a sensuous tone before lifting off of you, “As a craftsman, I should direct my focus on finishing that pendant."

You pouted, your lips forming a perfect pucker as you reached out and grabbed him by the scruff of his neckline. The fabric of his shirt bunched up in your fingers as you pulled him closer, your eyes locked on his. With a sudden burst of passion, you pressed your lips against his, the softness of your mouth contrasting with the firmness of your grip.

Zayne's breath hitched in surprise at your boldness, his body tensing for a moment before relaxing into your embrace. He returned your kiss with equal fervor, his lips parting slightly as they moved against yours. His hands found your hips, fingers digging into the fabric of your clothes as he pulled you flush against him. You could feel the heat of his body radiating through your clothing, igniting a fire within you.

His tongue darted out, tracing the contours of your lower lip with a feather-light touch. The warmth of his breath mingled with yours, sending a tingle down your spine. His eyes, dark with desire, locked onto yours, silently asking for permission to deepen the connection.

Parting your lips, you welcomed his tongue into your mouth. A low groan rumbled in his chest as your fingers threaded through his hair, tugging lightly. The slight sting only fueled his growing arousal. Zayne's lips parted against yours as his tongue explored your mouth. He groaned softly as your fingers threaded through his hair, tugging lightly. His hands gripped your hips tighter, his fingers digging into your flesh as if he was afraid you might transform into water the next moment and slip through his hands.

As you both broke out of the kiss, gasping for air, you couldn't help but use your first gasp to call out Zayne's name.

The sound sent a jolt of electricity coursing through him, his arms encircling you tighter, almost involuntarily. You felt his nose press against the dip of where your shoulders and neck connect and giggled as his harsh exhales tickled you. His lips trail a hot path along your jawline, like hot wildfires spreading across it. When he reaches your neck, he nips at the sensitive skin, his voice a deep, husky murmur. "You're making this difficult," he confesses, his breath hot against your skin.

"Then should I make it easy?" You murmured as you hooked your finger over the open neckline of your robe. The anticipation was visible, and you knew that Zayne was watching your every move.

Slowly, you began to pull the fabric down, revealing the center of your chest where your breasts parted. The cool air against your newly exposed skin sent a shiver down your spine, and you couldn't help but let out a soft gasp.

Zayne's eyes darkened with desire as he watched the fabric slide over your skin. His throat constricted, the dryness making it difficult to swallow, and he had to force his Adam's apple to bob, trying to regain control of his body's reaction.

His gaze, now heavy with hunger, lingered on the newly exposed flesh, as if tracing the landscape of your body, feeling himself get lost in the soft, inviting curves of your breasts, parted like two lush mountains on opposite sides of a valley. The peaks, hardened from the cold, were a delicate shade of rose, as if a secret garden of roses bloomed at their tips. Each breath you took sent shivers through your body, causing the peaks to quiver, as if tiny earthquakes were tearing through these mountains.

Zayne's mind drifted, imagining the weight of your breasts in his hands, the softness of your skin against his calloused fingertips. His imagination painted vivid pictures, each more explicit than the last, until he could almost feel your nipples hardening further under his touch.

Slowly, Zayne reached out, his fingers trembling with anticipation as they brushed against your skin, sending shivers through you. He cupped one breast, feeling the softness envelop his hand, and then the other, savoring the contrast between the warmth of your body. Your arms lingered above your head, curling into fists as you allowed him to do whatever he pleased with your body.

Zayne's heart raced as his fingers explored the curves of your breasts, tracing the delicate lines and contours that made your body uniquely yours. He could feel the heat radiating from your skin, a stark contrast to the coolness of his own. As he gently squeezed, he marveled at the way your flesh yielded to his touch, soft and pliant beneath his fingertips.

"You're beautiful." He squeezed them in his hands once more before lowering his head to take one nipple into his mouth.

He sucked gently, the soft pull of his lips causing you to arch your back and moan softly. Zayne switched to the other nipple, repeating the tender ministrations, reveling in your responsiveness. He trailed kisses down to the center of your chest, turning his head slightly to nip at the swell of the breast.

"Your pulse has picked up," he murmured, his voice low and gruff.

The deep timbre of his voice resonated within you, making your heart race even faster. "I would be nervous if it didn’t," you said, your voice coming out breathier than you intended. "Yours did too."

“I wonder why that could be," he said, his voice laced with mock innocence.

"You're the heart doctor, you tell me why."

A slow smile spread across Zayne's face at your choice of words. "’Heart doctor’?" he drawled. "Yes, as a heart doctor, it could be because we're sitting so close together," he murmured, his voice dripping with innuendo. "Or it could be that I'm thinking about how you look right now, underneath me."

He shifted closer still, his body pressing against you more than before. "It's hard to say," he added softly, his breath warm against your neck. "Without a thorough evaluation, of course.”

"Evaluation?" you whispered, maintaining a playful tone. "That sounds scary."

Zayne's warm breath tickled your neck as he smiled. "Don't worry," he murmured, his voice low and soothing. "It's nothing you haven't gone through before."

His hand on your hip slowly gilded upwards, finally fully parting the two sides of the silky robe that had been hiding your curves. The cool air caressed your exposed skin, sending a shiver down your spine. His thumb shifted lower, rubbing against the soft, sensitive skin of your abdomen, inching ever closer to the bundle of nerves below.

"I pride myself on my thoroughness," he added, his voice now a deep, sensual rumble. "I promise I won't miss a single detail."

Zayne noticed the subtle change in your breathing, and the way your eyes darted away from his. A soft, dark chuckle escaped his throat. "You're getting shy now," he teased, his hand slowly making its way down your body.

His strong, calloused fingers gently gripped your chin, tilting your face up to meet his intense, smoldering gaze. His dark eyes bore into yours, demanding your full attention. "No hiding," he murmured, his deep voice sending shivers down your spine. "Look at me while I touch you."

His command was both thrilling and intimidating. You couldn't look away even if you wanted to. Your heart raced as he slowly, deliberately, pushed one long finger inside you. The sudden intimate invasion made you gasp and arch your back. He watched your every reaction, drinking in the way your body responded to his touch.

"That's it," he encouraged, his finger sliding deeper, stroking along your inner walls. He added a second finger, pumping them slowly, teasingly. His thumb found your sensitive clit, circling it maddeningly.

You were panting now, your hips rocking instinctively against his hand. Pleasure built inside you with each thrust of his fingers, each brush of his thumb.

He added his third finger to your tight space, the forefinger. He quickly put it to work, pushing it deeper and curling it just so to hit that perfect spot within you that made stars explode behind your eyelids.

You whimpered, your thighs trembling with the effort of keeping them spread wide for him. The obscene squelch of his fingers pumping in and out of your dripping cunt filled the room, mingling with your needy moans. "Keep looking at me," he commanded, his voice a low, gravelly whisper. You looked back into his eyes, swirling with lust.

Zayne held your gaze, his eyes intense and unwavering. "Good," he murmured, his movements slow, methodical, almost torturous.

Your eyes rolled to the back of your skull as waves of pleasure coursed through your body. "Are you still with me?" he murmured, a hint of a tease in his voice.

"Yes," you groaned, your voice thick with desire. You weren't sure if it was an abrupt groan or a response to his question, but it didn't matter. All that mattered was the feeling of his hands on your body, igniting a fire within you.

Zayne lifted an eyebrow, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "I fear I might’ve lost the patient. I think I should check her vitals," he whispered, his voice low and rough. His free hand found its way trailing up your body with deliberate slowness.

He pressed his palm firmly against your chest, feeling the rapid, fluttering beat of your heart beneath his touch. "Mmm, listen to that," he murmured, his voice low and husky. "Your heart is racing, thundering against my hand. It's like a wild animal, desperate to break free."

Your skin was hot to the touch, flushed with arousal and need. He could feel the heat radiating off you in waves, could see the way your chest heaved with each ragged breath. "You're so responsive," he breathed, marveling at the way your body reacted to even the slightest touch. "Every inch of you is alive, quivering, aching for more,"

As if to prove his point, your legs suddenly clamped down around his hand, your muscles tensing and quivering as you teetered on the brink of release

"All signs of a healthy woman.”

He could feel your body trembling, your muscles tensing as you teetered on the brink of ecstasy. With a final, gentle touch, he sent you over the edge. Your body arched, back bowing as the pleasure crashed over you like a tidal wave. A groan escaped your lips, his name falling from them like a prayer as you surrendered to the intense sensations. He held you close, his strong arms supporting you as your body shook with the force of your climax.

He slowly withdrew his fingers, a small smile playing at the corner of his mouth. "You're in perfect health," he said, amusement lacing his tone.

You huffed, breathless, your chest heaving as Zayne's lips trailed searing kisses along the column of your throat.

Zayne chuckled at your huff, his touch growing gentler as he traced patterns on the skin of your hip. He lifted you up, moving to sit with his back against the siheyuan walls, his legs stretched out before him.

You gasped softly as your fingers brushed against the prominent bulge straining against Zayne's jeans. "You're hard," you breathed, a delicious shiver running down your spine at the realization of how much he wanted you.

A deep, rumbling chuckle vibrated through Zayne's chest at your words, unnatural to his vocabulary. "I know," he murmured, his lips grazing the sensitive skin of your neck. "You can blame that on you."

His teeth caught your earlobe, tugging gently before soothing the sting with his tongue. Your head fell back, granting him better access as your pulse raced beneath his lips.

"I can help," you offered breathlessly, even as you knew Zayne was notoriously strict about safe sex. His hips rolled forward, grinding his hard length against your core, and you couldn't help but moan. "Please, Zayne... I want you.”

Zayne chuckled again, his hands squeezing your hips ever so slightly. "You're getting bold," he murmured, his lips brushing against your jawline. He pulled back slightly to look at you, his expression a mix of amusement and desire.

"I can take a Plan B when we return to Linkon," you said with a playful pout.

Zayne's jaw grew taut, his grip tight on your hips. He was clearly struggling with the temptation you were offering. "We shouldn't," he said, a hoarse whisper against your neck.

But his body betrayed him, his hands roaming further up your body, trailing up and down your back. He was clearly very tempted.

You straightened and kissed him, luring him in. Zayne groaned, his resolve slipping as you kissed him. His hands came up to cup your face, his fingers gently tracing the curves of your features. He hesitated for a few more seconds, his eyes locked with yours, before he finally caved.

Zayne groaned as you sat in his lap, his hands gripping onto your hips. The sudden heat and friction sent a jolt through him, he swallowed another groan, his breathing becoming shallow.

He kissed a trail down your jaw, his teeth grazing against your skin as he reached your neck. His body grew taut, every part of him screaming for contact.

His robe hanged loosely around his shoulders and with a slow, deliberate motion, he let the silky fabric slide off his body, revealing his muscular form inch by tantalizing inch. His chest rose and fell with each ragged breath, his eyes burning with a desire so intense it could ignite a wildfire.

As the robe pooled around his waist, you couldn't help but let your gaze wander over his perfectly sculpted body, taking in every detail. The way his abs rippled with each breath, the defined lines of his pectorals, and the powerful thighs that could easily pin you down in a heartbeat.

With a gentle touch, you reached out to help him remove the last remnants of his clothing, your fingers brushing against his warm skin. Zayne's hands found their way to your thighs, sliding up.

His hands, slick with your arousal, reveled in the warmth of your skin beneath them. His gaze traveled over your exposed body, taking in every curve and dip, his eyes darkening with each passing second.

Without hesitation, you reached for his thick, pulsing cock, guiding it to your entrance. You felt the tip brush against your slick folds, and with a slow, deliberate motion, you entered him. Zayne's breath caught in his throat, a low, guttural groan escaping as you claimed him. His fingers dug into your hips, trying to maintain control, but the pleasure was too overwhelming, and he failed.

Your eyes met his, both of you lost in the haze of lust and desire. Zayne's pupils were blown wide, his breathing coming out in ragged gasps. The room was filled with the wet slap of your bodies connecting, and the guttural moans that escaped both of your lips.

You began to move, setting a slow, sensual rhythm. Zayne's feet were firmly planted on the patio so he could thrust his hips forward to meet yours, his thick length stretching you in the most delicious way. Each thrust sent waves of pleasure coursing through your body, building and building and building until you thought you might combust from the sheer intensity of it all.

Zayne's hands roamed your body, caressing every inch of your skin as if memorizing it. His lips found your neck once more, trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses along the column of your throat. You tilted your head back, giving him better access, a breathy moan escaping your lips as his teeth grazed your pulse point.

The open night was filled with the sounds of your lovemaking, the slick sound of your bodies connecting, and the symphony of moans and gasps that spilled from your lips. It was primal, raw, and utterly intoxicating.

Zayne's movements became more erratic, his thrusts harder and deeper as he chased his release. You could feel the tension coiling tighter and tighter within him, his body trembling with the effort of holding back. His hands gripped your hips even tighter, his fingers digging into your flesh as he pulled you closer, burying himself deeper inside you.

"Hah,"

You could feel your own release approaching again, the pleasure building with each passing second. Your body tensed, your muscles coiling like a spring ready to snap.

As Zayne's body shuddered with the force of his release, his hot seed spilling deep inside you, you felt your own climax crash over you like a tidal wave. Your body convulsed, your walls clenching around him as a wave after wave of intense pleasure washed over you. You cried out his name, your voice raw and primal, lost in the throes of ecstasy.

Zayne held you closer, his arms wrapped around you, his face buried in the crook of your neck as he rode out the aftershocks of his orgasm. His breath came in ragged gasps, his heart pounding against your chest. You could feel the warmth of his shin, slick with sweat, pressed against yours.

The man's breath came in ragged gasps, his broad chest heaving with each shuddering inhale. You'd never seen him like this before - usually so composed and in control, but now he trembled against you, his powerful body wracked with the aftershocks of intense pleasure. His hair was mussed, dark strands falling across and sticking to his forehead in tousled waves.

He kept his face buried in the crook of your neck, his fuzzy jawline, from the days he spent here, scraping deliciously against your sensitive skin. His eyes were pinched shut, long lashes fanning out against his cheeks as he tried to regain his bearings.

"I'll... I'll accompany you to the pharmacy store," he managed to get out between labored breaths, his deep voice slightly hoarse.

You let out a soft sigh, your fingers unconsciously scratching and massaging the back of his head. Your own body still hummed with residual pleasure, your mind floating pleasantly in the clouds. "Okay," you whispered, a small smile playing on your lips.

Swallowing thickly, you gathered your courage and uttered the three words that had been on the tip of your tongue. "I love you."

The man's eyes fluttered open at your declaration, his dark gaze meeting yours with an intensity that took your breath away. A slow, tender smile spread across his handsome face, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

"I love you too," he murmured, his voice low and filled with emotion. He pressed a gentle kiss to your temple before reluctantly pulling back to look at you fully.

His hands came up to cup your face, thumbs stroking your cheeks with a reverence that made your heart swell. "You're incredible, you know that?" he said softly, his eyes roaming over your features as if memorizing every detail. "I'm the luckiest man in the world to have you by my side."

The jade pendant rests quietly in its box.

The old craftsman lifts it, his weathered hands gentle yet precise. His brow furrows, and for the first time, you catch a flicker of unease in Zayne's eyes, a vulnerability that rarely escapes him.

“Hmmm…” the craftsman murmurs, turning the pendant between his fingers. “The edges… a little rough. The details, perhaps, not as fine as they could be.”

Yet, even in his critique, a softness lingers in his gaze, a glimmer of admiration woven into his stern words. He pauses, studying the pendant as if searching for the heart of its creation. “Did you remember what I told you? To steady your hand… clear your mind… as you carved this?”

You glance at Zayne, and in that brief exchange, a shared warmth passes between you, but neither of you can hold the moment for long. Your eyes drop, averting away from each other in sudden shyness.

The old jade craftsman, wiser than you both, sighs, the weight of years in his voice. “Ah, nevermind. Take it back. I cannot keep it… for it was shaped from love, and that cannot be sold.”

[bigdumbbambieyes]

falling stars au where Billy and Chrissy fall to earth at the same time but get separated by only a few miles — enough to span the distance of one end of Hawkins to the other

Billy falls into a pool, boiling the water and cooling him, his eyes full of starlight and his skin smelling like outer space, staring up at his home in wonder and awe — until there’s someone yelling at him, an angry person with dark hair and equally dark eyes, holding…some kind of makeshift weapon, maybe.

it’s Steve, freaked out and wondering what the hell he’s done so wrong in his life that not only does he have to worry about flower-faced monsters, people are falling from the sky

but as Billy crawls out of the water, dripping wet and naked, Steve pauses

the guy is gorgeous

and cold

because he’s shivering now, in the cool August night air

Steve takes him inside and sneaks him upstairs, telling his parents that the noise they all heard was just some dumb kids fucking around, while Billy looks around his room, wrapped up in a pool towel

his hair is blond and spun with bits of golden sun, constellation freckles across his nose. Steve dries him off and gets him clothed — which Billy quickly begins to hate — and he asks where Chrissy is

“who’s Chrissy?”

“she’s…mine.”

Billy doesn’t elaborate

so they spend time together, days, looking for Chrissy and exploring Hawkins together. Billy pretends to not care, saying he’s most interested in finding Chrissy, but Steve sees the looks of interest and awe Billy has on his face whenever he experiences something new

he admits it’s their first time to Earth. they wanted to explore it before being bound to the sky; their home

Billy and Steve grow closer and closer as the days pass, tension building, nearly kissing but always being interrupted

but one day, Eddie nearly hits them with his van, comes to a screeching halt, and there she is in the passenger seat: Chrissy

with her nebula eyes and long milky way hair, climbing out of the van and running to Billy, embracing him tightly just as he does to her, before their lips meet

Eddie and Steve sharing confused and concerned looks, because they’ve both fallen for their stars, but maybe they don’t have a chance — maybe they never did

and the two fallen stars hold each other close, relieved and happy to finally be reunited, before excitingly chatting in a language older than any on Earth

Chrissy fell near the Munson trailer that night and Eddie took her in, much like Steve did to Billy, and they’ve been searching ever since

they share a quiet secret: wishing they could stay but they know they can’t

(or maybe they do?)

(idk, i think this is a cute and potentially heartbreaking au kfnfkf)

[valiantstarlights]

[Dreamling Week Day 6: Sick] In Sickness

It's a fluffy sick fic featuring eldritch goo Dream of the Endless idk what else to tell you

CW: if you're fine with Dream being an eldritch being, then absolutely nothing. 😊 Enjoy! 🖤

Hob stares at the large black puddle of goo that flooded most of the living room. He just got back from work and found Matthew perched on a branch near his flat, looking as frantic as a raven could get.

Said raven is now perched on Hob's shoulder, eyeing the mess on the floor gravely.

Hob had been warned that Dream is 'in a state,' but he didn't exactly expect that 'state' to be liquid.

Because it is Dream on the floor, Hob can see that very clearly. Though the goo simply looks like dark glittery slime poured over the floor to the uninitiated, Hob recognizes a couple of nebulas on its surface. There, by the telly, is the Horsehead Nebula, there by the bookshelf that contained none of Shaxberd's works is the Trifid Nebula, and just by Hob's feet is the Lagoon Nebula.

"Darling?" Hob calls out, unsure if he's going to get an answer. This is his first time encountering Dream like this. "Are you alright?"

No answer.

He looks at Matthew a bit helplessly. "Do I just...scoop him up with my hands?"

Matthew fidgets. "Definitely don't vacuum him."

"Why the hell would I--"

"Well, why are you asking me? I don't know this shit! I was literally a human a year ago!"

Hob pinches his nose. They were like blind drunks stumbling down the street together. "Is he even sentient like this?"

The dark puddle vibrates, and Hob feels Matthew's talons dig into his shoulders from the jumpscare. He himself almost drops his suitcase. "I can hear both of you," the puddle grumbles, "and you are making too much noise for my liking."

"Oh, sorry, love," Hob says, his boyfriend instincts suddenly awakened at Dream's sulky morning voice. "Did we wake you?"

"I want some of your chicken pot pie."

"Chicken pot pie." Hob repeats. His brain is still processing the fact that his boyfriend is a literal puddle of goo on the floor. "Yeah. Okay. Let me just get some ingredients from the shops real quick. Can you get to the bedroom while I'm gone? I don't want to step on you when I return."

--

He leaves Matthew...not in charge, but overseeing goo Dream's long and arduous trek to the bedroom.

He hears the raven mutter something about this being like hell all over again.

Hob ignores that because he has a different set of problems to tackle.

--

Hob's panic sets in as soon as he gets out of the car carrying all the ingredients for chicken pot pie, as well as some other food and drinks good for sick humans.

Once the pie is done cooking and cooling down a bit, how will he feed Dream? Where is his mouth? Does Hob just...pour it on the goo and hope for the best?

What if that were the equivalent of dumping hot soup on his boyfriend's lap?

--

"Any improvement?" he asks Matthew, who has kept an eye on Dream while perched safely on the back of the couch.

Hob checked, and Dream's form is thankfully all contained in the bedroom, still looking like a lake of stars.

"Nope. But he says he wants you to make extra crusts because he likes that. I would also like some extra bits to snack on, if that's alright."

"Sure." Hob goes to do just that. Chicken pot pie for the boyfriend and a lot of extra crusts for the boyfriend and his raven.

No problem. This is all totally normal and fine.

--

"Dream? Darling? The pot pie is done."

The puddle looks a little smaller in size, and Hob can see a couple of hill-like formations near the middle of the mass. He hopes it's a sign that Dream is slowly getting better.

At his words, one of the islands move closer to him, like a shark. Its progress sends ripples throughout the lake.

"Finally," the island nearer to him says. Its peak splits open to reveal the inside of Dream's human mouth. "Feed me."

At this point, Hob isn't even questioning anything anymore. All he knows is how to be a good boyfriend, so he's gonna do just that.

He sits down at the very edge of the lake near the hill with the mouth, and scoops up a portion of the pie, making sure to blow on it before feeding it to Dream.

The hill hums in appreciation.

"Good?"

"Delicious," Dream's mouth says, before opening once more, like a baby bird waiting to be fed. "More. I want a larger portion of the crust this time."

Hob couldn't help the smile that bloomed on his face and obediently gets more of the crust for the next bite.

--

"What kind of juice do you like?" Hob asks, a few hours later. The goo now looks less like a puddle and more like gelatine that didn't set properly. It was on the couch, bundled up in one of Hob's soft knitted blankets, watching an earlier season of Game of Thrones with Matthew.

"What kinds do you have?"

"Uh, orange, apple, and pineapple. Oh, and I still got some banana milk from the Korean grocery store, if you prefer that. Or almond milk."

"All of them."

Hob and Matthew share an alarmed look behind gelatine Dream's back. "What, an equal amount of all those drinks together in a single glass?"

"Yes."

Hob looks heavenwards and prays for a little more sanity before complying.

And just for fun, he goes down to the Inn and gets a blue cocktail umbrella and a heart-shaped drinking straw to put in gelatine Dream's very questionable drink.

Gelatine Dream hums in delight and tells Hob he loves him.

Hob beams and kisses the top of the gelatinous mass, while Matthew chokes, very possibly because the scene on TV is Hodor...doing his thing, and that always gets to Hob.

(Matthew chokes because he is disgusted, he is revolted--)

--

Something thick and long, like an anaconda, slithers into bed with Hob, and it is only through his 600 plus years of living in this world does he calm his frantically beating heart and open his arms so big ass snake Dream can curl up next to him.

"I hate being sick," the snake hisses, its huge dark head tucking itself under Hob's chin. "I can't hug you like this."

'Please don't wrap around me and squeeze me to death,' Hob does not say. "I think you're adorable," he murmurs instead against Dream's coils, and kisses the nearest scaled skin in front of his face.

--

Dream is mostly back in his human form come morning, but he still dripped viscous dark liquid wherever he goes. It reminds Hob of Howl Pendragon from the Howl's Moving Castle Ghibli movie.

"How are you this morning, darling?"

"Wretched," Dream says as he drips onto his fry up. Hob mentioned preparing porridge for him as they got up earlier, only to be informed by Dream that he fucking hates porridge and would hurl it into the sun if he could. And so Hob cooked some fry up instead. "Must you go to work?"

Hob, already running late and in the process of putting on his shoes, stops and looks back at the pathetic picture Dream makes. He is sadly looking down at his perfectly cooked eggs, dripping dark sludge on the sun-yellow yolks.

"I'll call in sick," Hob decides, and takes his phone out to do just that. The department head is going to verbally flay him alive for only giving notice at the last minute, but nothing is more important to him than Dream. Hell, they could fire him over the phone and he'd be fine with it.

Dream hugs him around the middle as Hob puts his briefcase down, ruining his white dress shirt. Hob hugs him back and kisses the top of his head.

It's fine. He'll just buy another shirt, or get another job. But Dream is irreplaceable.

--

"Have I told you that you are the best thing that has ever happened to me?" Dream asks him a couple of days later, when they're both lying in bed after two rounds of fantastic sex, celebrating Dream's full recovery.

Hob kisses him on the nose and cuddles him closer. "Maybe once or twice in the last 24 hours," he says. "But it never hurts to tell me again."

--

Dream shyly hands him an unbreakable ceramic mug made from the sands of the Dreaming. It says, "The best boyfriend across all of time and space," in Dream's handwriting.

It takes Hob a solid month to stop grinning like a fool.

[kaylinalexanderbooks]

WIP Wednesday

Thanks @aalinaaaaaa here!

Rules: post something about your WIP on a Wednesday!

I'll tag @drchenquill @sarandipitywrites @paeliae-occasionally @winterandwords @theeccentricraven

+ ANYONE ELSE

Didn't really have anything to share so thought I'd do something new.

Started to learn how to do ambigrams (same word upside down) with no artistic talent and unstable hands! But I thought I'd practice on my OCs' names. So here's some TSP folks. Some of these are absolutely hideous but some of them are pretty cool. Then there's CJ in a different category of his own.

Under the cut cause honestly slightly embarrassed but again I'M NEW TO THIS AND HAVE BAD HANDS AND NO ART SKILLS be kind

[image ID in alt text]

Idk why I'm posting this atrocity.

TSP intro

TSP tag list (ask to be +/-): @thepeculiarbird @illarian-rambling @televisionjester @finchwrites

@nebula--nix @literarynecromancy @honeybewrites @the-golden-comet

[katyspersonal]

Ebrietas is the cutest Great One

Ebrietas is such a beautiful, soft lady! Just look at her!

She has huge anime girl green eyes that are fashioned like they're displaying a green nebula somewhere in outer space! Hell, maybe this IS the case, all things considered! And I don't even fucking know what these things all over her face are, but the yellow-ish ones look like they have pupils, so would be cool if these are just other types of eyes

And look at her ass big, beautiful wings!

And there are also these extra tentacles besides ones that are her "arms" and "legs", and these.. idk, like, macaron things hovering from her back, and those black tendrills on the top just wriggling casually. There are SO many things going on, jeez fdhhfds But I appreciate all of them

Also look at her mouth omg!! She could eat a whole guy. ...actually, yes, she CAN do that in the game, lol. But she is friendly and it was very nice of her to choose to interact with humans and try to help them! Pretty sure that she doesn't even need human sacrifices unlike Great Ones of that, OTHER cringe institution *glares at School of Mensis*, she just wants to vibe with the girls (gender neutral) and to not be fucking abandoned AGAIN!

Also she might be more on the skinny side, but there pecs are still pretty impressive 👀

She is just soooo lovely.

[oasisofgalaxies]

Art is cool but making full pieces is rlly tiring for me :( i rlly want to but I just doodle a lot nowadays

[thedepressexpress]

I want to talk about how "we are stardust" has become a cliche and I hate that it's become a cliche

to say that we are stardust isn't a romanticized version of the truth. it is the truth.

a science lesson for anyone who's interested (stick with me here):

when the universe was born, everything was really hot, so hot that it couldn't combine into atoms, and when it cooled down enough stuff like helium and hydrogen (and some other elements in small quantities) were made. there was nothing else.

because of stuff like density and gravity, that gas collapsed into stars. and most of those stars became red dwarf stars which have trapped all that material inside them, burning so slowly that none of them have ever released that stuff back out because they live for trillions of years.

of the stars that didn't become red dwarfs some stars started burning, changing hydrogen to helium then carbon and nitrogen and then they die, exploding into these beautiful noisy planetary nebulae. those explosion are where the material for the carbon and nitrogen in your body come from. that's what we mean when we say we're made of stardust. you are a living tomb for the corpse of a million stars, separated from them by space and time.

only a few stars get really big and burn a lot more and make iron. the iron in apples that makes them turn brown and your blood that makes it possible for you to live and breathe. those stars didn't just slowly build up to that moment over time like the stars that made your carbon and nitrogen. they took a few seconds to make a supernova that blew all the atoms that are currently in your body into space and eventually they found themselves in you, making you everything that you are. those explosion are so powerful that if a lot of them happen in a small enough space they can break galaxy disks and leak into their halos.

and these explosions, they are so incredible and loud and the universe is screaming to make the stuff that you are made of.

you aren't just made of stars, you are the result of billions of years of life and death on such a cosmic scale that we may never experience it, not in this lifetime or the next or the one after that.

in physics, sometimes we simplify interactions and say that matter knows. that matter knows the most stable configurations to be in and it knows how to decay to become stable if it isn't and it knows how to feel gravity.

in that sense, stars know when they're dying but they don't know what they'll become. if they'll get lost in gas that never becomes anything else or if they'll become the heart of a whole new star or if they'll become part of rocks or life or your shoelaces.

idk i just feel like there's more to it than just being stardust. there's billions of lifetimes that go into who you are and that's not to add pressure on you to be something extraordinary in this life. it's just what this is like, exploding and living and dying and always becoming something else so you aren't just from stars and part of this cosmic history either, we're part of the cycle so it makes sense that we explode and live and die and keep becoming someone else.

ok byeeee

[orionis13]

Still catching up on fhjy but I’ve been thinking So Much about everything going on with Cassandra but I Can Make Anything About Astronomy and that’s about to be everyone else’s problem SO!!!

Thinking about the red rage stars that came from Cassandra. Thinking about the giant gods from the mountains of chaos and the god whose name has been erased. Thinking about the potential of a star god leeching power from Galicaea and Sol. Thinking about red giant stars.

A red giant is a dying star. When a star doesn’t have enough hydrogen for nuclear fusion, gravity acts on it harder and the compression makes it hotter, so it expands greatly and glows bright red, but since this heat is spread out over a greater surface area the surface becomes relatively cool. When the red giant’s core collapses in on itself, it becomes a white dwarf and ejects material into a nebula. This is the most violent stage of a star’s life.

It’s possible this giant god (Cassandra’s spouse) whose name has been erased was an old star or sun god, losing followers when sol came to prominence and being presumed dead, when it instead entered a red giant phase. They no longer have followers of their own to draw power from, so they leech off of the sun and moon for what little power they can get in their nameless state. Their influence is spread thin (like the demon that Lydia and her party fought) but they are fueled by this rage.

This dead god being a sun/star god for the giants would also explain the texts found being written in Giant, and would also explain the ties to Lucy Frostblade and her goddess, bc I’m sure there’s some sort of connection there

Also on a kind of meta level I know there’s a third party dnd compendium with a fallen star warlock patron that is p cool (i doubt they’re using that handbook specifically but there is a precedent for this thing)

On another meta level I think that the red giant pun is too good to pass up idk it’s fun to me

Anyway this might be nothing but it’s been on The Dome <333

[softmeetscreatureplz]

I am bad at words but I like showing people pictures of things. Bears are cool and fun, Nebulae are pretty and cool, pictures I take I think look nice.

Uh. Idk. Anyways if I invade ask boxes with pictures nd then an awkward comment it is me just saying hi and I care btw.