#I made them so shiny and I’m proud of myself

[barb-being-mentally-ill]

Megop week started and we’re kicking off with angst :)

I’ll be brief with explanations, the prompt for today is: Loyalty/ Betrayal, I ran with betrayal. The idea was inspired by the concept that after receiving the matrix Orion isn’t quite in control anymore(does it make sense canonically? Not rly but it makes for a cool shot)

I wanted to portray sudden betrayal and at first thought of the council scene but I wanted to spice it up a bit and ended up with Orion stabbing Megatron, with ghostly hands representing the matrix and the past primes “forcing” his hand

Here’s the lineart, a ver without text and a shitty doodle my friend made while I was sketching it out

[marlynnofmany]

Food Choices

Normally when I’m in a room with the entire crew of the courier ship, it’s either for an important debriefing by the captain or because of some emergency. We’d never all been at a restaurant together before. I kept having moments of worry that the ship was unattended, and having to remind myself that it was fully locked. Any of our biometrics could unlock it, and no one else would get past the hatch. It was fine. We could celebrate how good business had been — with the captain paying for everyone’s food — and there was no need to fret.

It was still bizarre, though. Almost as bizarre as some of the food I’d seen on other tables as we made our way to this one. The city was a cultural hub like few others. (Well, probably like many others, but they were very proud of themselves on that count. And this restaurant was a fine example.)

“The server will bring appetizers first,” said Captain Sunlight, scaly hands folded on the table in front of her with infinite dignity. “There’s no charge for these, and the server will likely decide for you what you want. They were pretty good at guessing last time I was here.”

“We shall see,” Zhee said with a flick of his antennae. He sat on an angled mat instead of a chair, since the restaurant had seating accommodations for all body types, including praying-mantis-shaped bug aliens. The mats were even adjustable, which was good because Trrili was taller than he was. She sat on the other side of the circular table — whether that was for more elbow room for the pinchers, or to make a maximum tripping hazard for people walking past, I couldn’t say. Either seemed in character for her.

“What’s the panel in the floor for?” Paint wanted to know. She sat next to the captain, scales a shiny orange to Sunlight’s yellow. I think she polished them before leaving the ship. She pointed now at the seam that I hadn’t noticed: a smaller circle inside the open center of the table.

Captain Sunlight said, “That’s the server’s entrance. They bring the food up from the kitchen downstairs.”

“Oh, nice!”

At my left, Mimi the mechanic grumbled about what an unnecessarily flashy choice that was, and how the restaurant had better keep on top of their maintenance. He gestured with his tentacles as he talked, sounding like he spoke from experience. “Anything that moves can stop moving, and usually at the worst time.” He also sounded like he gargled with engine grease, but he always sounded like that.

Fast-moving tentacles from further down turned out to be Wio and Mur, who’d discovered a game I didn’t recognize on the digital menu panel set into the tabletop. They were slapping away at something with competitive speed, and Mur seemed to be winning. Which was probably nice for him, given how often he lost at card games against the captain.

On my other side, Blip wrinkled her fishy nose. “I was about to say something smells good, but…”

“Then you smelled that?” asked Blop. “What is that?” He turned to look at neighboring tables, nearly elbowing Coals in the head and immediately apologizing. It was a good thing he’d missed, since that much muscle would have hurt.

“No harm done,” said Coals with his usual calm. I don’t think I’d ever seen the little lizardy guy upset. Which was probably for the best, given that he worked on translations with Trrili, and that had to be an exercise in patience.

Eggskin sat on his other side, similarly scaly and calm, but with far more opinions about food, since they were the ship’s cook as well as medic. I was only catching snatches of conversation from where Eggskin discussed the menu with Kavlae, but it sounded like a lengthy explanation for something. Kavlae didn’t look bored, though (head frills waving with interest), so it was probably good information. As a pilot, she didn’t spend much time on food prep.

I’d helped Eggskin in the kitchen plenty, both as part of the assistance rotation and because I found it interesting. The crew ate a range of foods, and most of it was edible for humans, though there were a few dishes that I wouldn’t touch on a dare.

A gentle chime sounded. Before I could ask what it was, the trapdoor sank down an inch then slid aside. A column rose into view that turned out to be a Waterwill, the gelatinous aliens that followed very few biological rules that I was familiar with. This one had less murky innards than most, with a bunch of things floating in there that could have been organs, recent meals, or personal belongings. The voice sounded vaguely male, and it hardly burbled at all.

“I hope you are all having an excellent day/night cycle! May your experience here only improve things.” He kept raising up, then when the platform cleared the floor, it folded out into a ring of serving dishes. The Waterwill sank back down in the center and everything locked into place. “Now, whose idea was it to dine at our fine establishment?”

Everyone pointed at Captain Sunlight.

“Ah, then I will serve you first!” The Waterwill didn’t turn, since he didn’t have visible eyes or even a mouth to be talking with, but somehow I got the impression that he had focused his attention in that direction. A stubby armlike shape reached out to set a bowl in front of the captain. “Our finest Heatseeker cuisine. And for you as well, madam. Also you, and you; don’t think I missed you over there.” Several arms passed out similar dishes to the other lizardy members of the crew.

I tried to peek around Blip and Blop for a look at Coals’ food, but couldn’t get a good angle. Might have been pasta and meatballs; might have been worms and worse.

“And!” announced the Waterwill, turning back to Zhee, “I hope this will be to your liking. And yours as well.” Goo arms set identical plates in front of the two Mesmers, and I could see from a distance that they held dead animals with the heads removed.

Zhee’s antennae were doing a complicated dance, but I couldn’t figure out if he was pleased or not before the server moved on.

“Only our best for the Frillians present!” He set festive arrangements of shrimp-things in front of Blip, Blop, and Kavlae. Really artistic; good presentation. The variety of colors and sizes made the plates into works of art. I hoped they tasted as good as they looked.

I murmured, “Ooh, fancy,” as the server came up with three more dishes.

“The Strongarm special!” he announced, laying them out in front of the three tentacle aliens to my left. Meat and plants of some sort; I couldn’t tell what.

Then he was back in front of me, and I realized I was the only one without food yet.

“Last but not least,” he said, “Featuring ingredients straight from Earth, we have a meal our chef has named the ‘Mother and Child Reunion.’”

The plate held a chicken breast, a hardboiled egg, and a pile of corn.

While Captain Sunlight thanked him generously, I stared at the plate with my hand over my mouth. When the server had packed everything up and disappeared back into the floor, I still didn’t know what to say.

Mimi spoke up from my left. “All right, why is it called that?”

I pointed. “This is the unhatched young of that species. And this is food they eat.”

Mimi tilted his octopuslike head to get a look at whatever expression I was making. “Isn’t that a weird thing to name it? Aren’t humans famous for pack-bonding with animals?”

“Yes and yes,” I admitted.

His rough voice was gentle. “Should we get you something else?”

“No, it’s okay,” I said, forcing a laugh. “It’s just a name. This is human food; I just wasn’t used to thinking about it like that.”

“If you’re sure.”

I looked around the table, expecting to find the rest of the crew enjoying their food. To my surprise, there were complaints.

“They overcooked the worms and the fruit!” Paint said. “And these beetles aren’t even shelled. Who eats something with that many spikes straight?”

Wio grumbled, “How do they know enough to pick out shorebirds and air lettuce, but not enough to know what an insulting assumption that is?”

“Right?” Mur agreed. “No self-respecting Strongarm would choose something from the shore when there are inland foods available just a little farther away.”

The pair of them griped about the species’ history of walking out of the sea, and everything that meant to them, while Mimi added murmurs of agreement.

Zhee, meanwhile, was complaining louder. “They took out the good parts! What nonsense is this? Did they mean to put the intestines in a separate dish and forget?”

He looked across the table for agreement from Trrili, and found her scooping paste out of a jar that had come with the meal. She dumped the last of it onto her plate and spread it around while Zhee sputtered. “Really, Trrili? That much? Would you like some fursqueak with your sauce?”

“Soursauce is the only reason to eat fursqueak,” Trrili retorted. “If you don’t want yours, pass it down.”

Zhee exclaimed that the brains were everyone’s favorite where he came from, which was clearly more cultured than whatever backwater moon she was hatched on, and they bickered across the table.

I peeked over my shoulder at the other restaurantgoers, hoping they weren’t glaring at us. I found a pair of elderly Heatseekers watching with interest, for all the world like they had been hoping to get dinner and a show. Their plates held something that looked like green popcorn.

Next to me, Blip heaved a sigh. “I’m actually kind of tired of shrimp.”

Blop laughed. “I know what you mean. It’s great! The best food out there! But… I don’t know, I guess I was looking forward to something more exotic.”

I eyed the fancy plates. “Ever tried chicken?”

They both looked at me. “No,” said Blip. “Does it have a strong flavor?”

“I wouldn’t say so. It is good, though. Popular on Earth for a reason. Here, I’ll trade you a bit.” I separated a chunk and handed it over while Blip put a bright pink jumbo shrimp on my plate.

“Can I try the egg?” Blop asked tentatively. “Is that okay? It looks so different from fish eggs.”

“Sure!”

Captain Sunlight caught sight of what we were doing, and loudly asked if Wio wanted to trade seabird for worm jerky. She did.

After that it was a cheerful chaos of swapping and sampling. Mur thought Zhee’s fursqueak was tasty, if tough; Zhee happily cracked open Paint’s spiky beetles; Trrili found that her favorite sauce was also good on shrimp; Eggskin and Coals both liked the corn. Kavlae said that a wrapping of Mur’s air lettuce elevated her shrimp from tasty to god-tier.

By the time the server appeared again to take our orders for the rest of the meal, we were all ready. I have never seen a Waterwill look that surprised as when he heard some of our choices.

~~~

(The meal name comes from the Paul Simon song, which was apparently inspired by something on a Chinese restaurant menu.)

Anyways, these are the ongoing backstory adventures of the main character from this book. More to come! And I am currently drafting a sequel!

[wakeup01]

The Shorts, Like, Maketh The Man

The black shorts were just laying there, hanging off the empty bench. I know, I know. But I wasn’t usually the type to pick up sweaty used clothing in the street, but there was something drawing me to them. Calling out to me. They weren’t really my style even, clearly gym shorts for the sort of person who spends at least an hour a day looking in the mirror. I’d never even set foot in a gym. But still, they were…nice. The polyester material felt good in my hand. Silky. There was clearly some text on the back of them but I was too excited to bother reading it. Maybe I could have them? It didn’t seem like the owner wanted them anymore anyway. I look around for any onlookers and quietly take them, stuffing them away in my pocket.

I wanted to try them on. Needed to. Finding a secluded area, I remove my trousers and pull the smooth fabric up my unimpressive legs. They felt incredibly good around my waist, like they were made for me. There was a warmth radiating from them. Mmff. They seem to press against…all the right places. Clinging to my skin. I catch myself letting out a soft moan, my face blushing red at hearing the sound. Maybe I should take them off, it would be weird to walk home in someone else’s—someone…some..one. Mine. They were my shorts. I leave the baggy trousers behind and step out into the street, an extra boost of confidence in my step.

While I’m walking my body feels slightly off, as if my weight distribution had shifted. Each foot forward felt heavier, stronger. People start to turn and gaze at me. I catch a glimpse of my chunky arms; were they always that veiny? Huh. I see my reflection strutting in a shop window and freeze on the spot. What on earth? There was a completely different person staring back at me. He was sexy as all hell. I looked like a utter gymrat. I touch my sharp, smooth jaw and run my fingers over my harsh buzzed hair. The visage in the reflection copies my exact movements, a large, self assured smirk set on their face. Curious, I lift the hem of my t-shirt. Woah! I was completely jacked! You could sharpen a blade on these abs.

Somehow I had gained pounds of lean muscle in a matter of minutes and my skin had been tanned a luscious golden hue. Certainly, I wasn’t about to complain about this turn of events. Maybe I should pick up discarded clothes more often!

Fuck, my body was li—like, fit. Just check it out. I pull out my phone and take a selfie. Okay. Maybe several selfies. Fine, maybe it was a couple dozen. Who gives a fuck when you look this hot. I didn’t even care about the pedestrians walking past and staring. They SHOULD stare. Admire this prize. This TROPHY. I was in peak form from head to toe. The shiny shorts accentuated my thick, meaty legs perfectly.

My eyes suddenly catch the time on my phone, pulling me out of my shameless self obsession. Damn, at this rate I was gonna be late for Daddy. Wait. Daddy? That’s not right, I wasn’t…

Ugh. My mind felt all jumbled up, like a finished jigsaw puzzle suddenly dropped to the floor. Pieces scattered. It was…I needed to…Daddy! Like, of course. After all, I was just a trophy boy. HIS trophy. An accessory for him to show off. Sculpting my body just how daddy likes it; my muscles existed for his enjoyment. Not that I didn’t enjoy them too…hmm.

My head hurt. Fuck. Was that right? No, I couldn’t be just some brainless boy toy. Now it made sense why the owner abandoned these damn shorts. Shit, It was altering my mind. I was becoming…I needed to remove these—mmff. But right then I feel the shorts squeeze on my bulge. It felt incredible! I shouldn’t, but I never, like, you know, wanted it to stop. My sensitive cock pulsed, thickening while stretching across the fabric. Ahhh! I grin inanely as pre drips down my leg. Like, yeah. Da—daddy loved his boy all hard. He loved when I did as he instructed. A pretty plastic toy to pose and play with. I was so proud to be his. Yes, I was his; body and mind. Like, how did I forget? I can be such an air-headed ditz sometimes. It’s a good thing Daddy also likes his twunky boys dumb; dumb, vapid and full of cum. I was good at those things. Huhuhuh.

I turn around - biting my lip - and look at my tight rear. The shorts thin fabric was digging between the two round globes. ‘Daddy’s Trophy’ was emblazoned on the back, across my cheeks. Mmff. I give my butt a light slap and watch it jiggle. I happily let out a pleasurable moan; it made me feel nice that everyone would know what I am. Explaining it was like, soo difficult and stuff. Daddy says I shouldn’t stress my pretty little head over such complex things. Uhhh. Anyway, these shorts were his favourite, all his boys wore them. He loved watching me dutifully clean the house in them. Or working out in them. Or obediently fucking him in them. Or being fucked…bouncing on his lap.

Oh right! I just remembered! I was supposed to meet him. Sir wanted to finalise our arrangement, there was one last thing to change before I could sign that dull agreement. His trophy boys were always blond. Blond and basic. Huhu. Just like I was about to be.

[virgo-dream]

One of Their Own 🏳️‍🌈✨

dreamling / queer joy / fluff / first kiss / 3,6k words

summary: Hob Gadling invites Dream to a meeting of the uni's queer clubs at the New Inn. Dream learns more about his own gender identity, and that he's very much in love with his best friend.

author’s note: this fic, this pairing and this fandom all mean the world to me, so I thought it was fitting to bring it back for pride month!

I’m incredibly thankful for finding Sandman when I did. Since joining this fandom, I’ve made wonderful friends and became part of a community of bright, kind, loving and loyal queer people that I would not trade for anything. I’ve learned more about my community and about myself, and I wave my ace/agender flag proudly now. This fic was written in a moment in my life where I felt hopeless and alone. Now, things couldn’t be more different. Happy pride sandfam! 🏳️‍🌈✨

read here or on ao3

Dream doesn’t get it at first. He never really did get it, but only attributed it to the need humanity had for labels, for packing things into boxes and saying this goes here and that goes there. Sometimes, it leads to this goes to heaven and you go to hell. It seemed to be a very common one, too. He was beyond that; his name said it all, Dream was endless. Not he nor she, not man nor creature, he was all there was to be and the nothingness beyond it. Gender and sexuality need not apply.

Still, it meant so much to Hob, that he’d have dreams about it. Nightmares too, for nights on end, and even if Dream begged Hob to allow him to take them away, Hob always declined, always braving through them. “If you take them, I’ll forget how much it all means. I’ll forget why I’m still fighting.”

They sat at the New Inn one afternoon, while Hob graded papers and Dream had a cup of chamomile tea, but his eyes couldn’t help but focus on a shiny pin on Hob’s jumper shaped like a flag, the shades of pink, purple and blue a spot of proud colour in Hob’s otherwise earthy colour palette.

“It’s the bisexual pride flag.”

“Hm?” Dream’s eyes darted up to meet Hob’s, tilting his head slightly. He wasn’t sure if he should feel bad for being caught, because he wasn’t sure what he was looking at in the first place.

“The pin. I wear it for my students, but also for myself. The kids feel safer I guess, knowing they have at least one of their own in the faculty. Can’t say it doesn’t make me feel good too.”

Hob has a particular tone to his voice that makes Dream’s heart sing in tune to its melody. It’s a fuller sense of self, maybe more than Dream ever had in regards to his own identity. “…one of their own?”

“Oh, I– Sorry, those are pretty recent.” Hob straightened himself up (ha) on the chair, his lecturing posture taking over. Dream liked when he did that. He liked to hear Hob speak of things he had deep knowledge of and passion for. “This one was created in 1988 by a queer activist called Michael Page. Had the pleasure of being there when it was first unveiled, but clearly it took a long time until I was able to wear something like this out in public and not be decked by some bloody homophobe.”

It was starting to sink in.

“…I’m afraid I was not present for these developments.” Dream saw the look on Hob’s face, like he was ready to apologise. He raised a hand to stop him, waving his concern away. “As far as I can remember, queer was not a form of self identification, but only a way to shun out those outside the established norm.”

“Ah, yes. We reclaimed it, though. Or are reclaiming it. The 80s were crazy. All of them were, for me.” Hob smiled at Dream, at their shared secret and at their years of now reestablished friendship.

“I think you’re lonely.”

Could it have been….? Could he have meant…?

“What does it mean for you, then?” Dream asks in a way he hopes sounds inconspicuous, pointing at the pin. He was hesitant to ask, afraid to be getting it all wrong.

“For me? It means I love whoever I love. Man, woman, either or neither.”

The pride coming from Hob’s words filled Dream with hope, something he had not felt in a long, long time. The look in his face then shifted onto something else, something he didn’t quite understand. “…what about you? That is, if you’re okay with talking about that. I don’t want to overstep. Last thing I want is for you to walk out–”

“I won’t, Hob.” Dream knew Hob had reason for feeling that way. “I don’t believe the terminology you have could define my experience. I have laid with mortals and gods alike, and have worn many faces and names. It is beyond human comprehension.”

Hob seems to take a moment to think about what he’d just heard. Dream feels like he might have thrown too much at his human friend. “…I think I get it. But, and tell me to bugger off I’m wrong, do you prefer to be a particular way? To be with a particular sort of being?”

Dream. Didn’t have an answer.

He never thought of what he preferred. He’d never felt in need of any sort of outside validation, but. That was a lie. He needed it. He just never cared to look for it.

Hob’s smile was what broke him out of the spell of his own self doubt. “It’s okay if you don’t have an answer. It takes people a long time to get it, it took me nearly 600 years! Ah! You know what? I’ve got an idea–” He reached inside his brown messenger bag, pulling out a colourful piece of paper, handing it over to Dream. A pamphlet for a meeting. “We’re having a meeting for the uni’s LGBT clubs here at the Inn. I want this to be a safe space for the kids, and to get them to connect with other folks in the community, share their experiences. It’s tomorrow, and I’d love it if you could make it. I’m sure they would too.”

Dream took the pamphlet in hands, looking at the bright colours and bold fonts, taking in every bit of information Hob was giving him and trying to fill in the gaps of the questions he wouldn’t dare ask. After a moment, he looked up at Hob, allowing himself a small smile. “I shall be in attendance, then.”

—————

Dream stood outside the New Inn, hands tucked safely inside the pockets of his coat jacket. He watched as groups of young adults arrived, greeting each other cheerfully. The hair colours and outfits reminded him of his sister, Delirium, but they all seemed to be more in line with her previous self; delighted to be there, happy to meet their friends. A flag danced in the light summer breeze on a pole next to the window, the stripes of colours brightening up the already lively scene. A rainbow, Hob had told him the day before, was the most recognizable symbol of the queer community. It now was accompanied by stripes of light pink and blue, white, black and brown. Dream enjoyed good symbolism, and he could feel the meaning of those colours to all who were present from their daydreams alone.

He, however, still felt like an outsider. Like he wasn't really meant to be there, save for Hob's generous invite. Dream was not defined by the same standards humanity aligned itself with; in fact, he wasn't defined by anything at all. He was not an individual, but the safe arms in which those dreamers rested every night, the common thread in their hopes, in their restful slumber. It would be silly to think that he'd need to identify as one thing or another, really. He was there for Hob . Because Hob invited him. Because he wanted to know more about the everyday life of his dearest friend. Because he wanted to hear him talk, see him inspire others with his tales, wanted to hear the sound of his voice, the gentle way in which he made people feel welcome, cared for, loved, he wanted–

Dream thought it best to wait it out, at least until most people had already arrived, until he had an idea of just how many young, hopeful minds would be in the vicinity. After escaping the Burgess Manor, Dream was faced with a considerable raise in the amount of dreamers under his care. He would not admit it to anyone but himself, but at times, it became too much even for him to bear. The idea of willingly walking into a space with so many people was daunting, to say the least. So he waited, watched as the New Inn became packed with dreamers, feeling his palms dampen inside the pockets of his coat.

Taking the first step towards the door was difficult. Pushing it open was even harder. Dream stepped in, careful not to bump into anyone or to even get too close. The sound of the little bell that was supposed to announce his arrival had no effect, as it was overtaken by the sound of chatter inside the Inn. It was better that way, Dream thought. Not having Hob rush to greet him. That way he could take a moment to adjust to his surroundings, maybe even blend in, become invisible. In hindsight, his usual choice of attire did anything but blend in there. He was a dark little cloud in a sky full of bright colours, like a multi-coloured sunset on a tropical beach. And of course, every sunset had its monarch, shining brightly, commanding the attention. That, of course, was Hob.

"Hello there, kids! Glad to see most of you could make it!" The cheerful, gentle register of Hob's voice filled the room, filtered by the small but potent speaker he'd rented just for the occasion. Dream could hear his voice clearly, and it helped him tune out everything else that wasn't his beloved friend. "This is the first of hopefully many meetings of our beloved Queer Clubs here at my beloved New Inn. I want you all to know this is a safe space for you all no matter what part of the gender and sexuality spectrums you fall on. The only things I won't accept here are discrimination of any kind, and anyone that thinks Lawrence Cheney shouldn't have won season 2 of Drag Race UK. Are we clear on that one?"

Laughter filled the room, and Dream couldn't help but allow his lips a small smile. Hob truly was a marvel. How anyone could shine so brightly was beyond even the dream lord's knowledge, but he was glad to be able to bask in that glow from time to time. He wished he could do it more often.

Hob was saying other things, Dream thought. Instructions on seating arrangements, subjects to be discussed, discounts on food and drinks. All Dream could do was watch as Hob did more than just make everyone feel welcome, but inspired them with hope and joy, a gentle breeze of acceptance, the embrace of a parent, the empathy of an equal. There was much to work with here, much to inspire new dreams. Dreams of comfort and love, of community and pride.

"Dream? You in there, love?"

Hob's voice broke the spell he himself had cast over Dream, who could now see his friend's palm waving in front of his eyes. He'd become lost in thought, it seemed. Dream's nose scrunched up at the interruption, looking at Hob with his usual look of curiosity. There was still much he needed to catch up on when it came to non verbal communication. "Aye. I'm here. Have I not fully manifested my presence?"

Hob chuckled, and his eyes wrinkled at the corners. "Oh, yes. Physically, at least." Dream's brows furrowed in worry, and he was glad Hob was quick enough to notice when something had gone over his head. "Just a joke– hey, I'm glad you could make it. The kids will love meeting you."

"Meeting me? There are far too many people here for you to make introductions. Besides, I know them all, and they all know me. They just do not remember it during waking hours."

This felt like a plausible enough explanation to keep Hob from actually introducing him to everyone in attendance. But Hob was far too optimistic to be dissuaded so easily. "I'm not talking about introducing them to Morpheus. I'd like them to meet my friend, Dream."

"I do not see the difference." He shouldn't say why he couldn't bear the idea of being introduced to so many people. Shouldn't burden Hob with his problems, that wouldn't exist had he just not been captured in the first place. Dream had been good at hiding his discomfort so far, and he'd continue to do so.

…well, maybe he was not so good at it. Not when Hob's eyes so clearly conveyed the worry that had just settled in his heart. It was difficult to deny Hob the truth when his warm, calloused hands took Dream's into his own so carefully, squeezing gently, as if saying you can trust me. I've got you. "It's okay if you'd rather not. I know it can be overwhelming sometimes."

"...thank you." Dream replied with a murmur. Hob gifted him with a smile. It seemed a lot could be said with just the eyes.

————

Even if Dream didn't intend on actually joining in on the conversations being held, he was glad to follow Hob along and listen to the discussions. It was amazing seeing just how bright the kids really were: they spoke of justice and equality, of inclusivity, of respect and love, of family and religion and sex and responsibility. It was a wider range of topics than he'd expected, an awareness of self he didn't think humans would ever possess, and now, he was glad to be proven wrong. He listened to their shared experiences, to the kindness in their eyes as they lifted each other up, the melody of their laughter and the bravery in their voices as they spoke of injustices they'd lived. It was fascinating, really.

What Dream was truly surprised to find was that people had, after all, an understanding of self that went beyond just physical. Hob brought him closer to a group of kids who were in a long discussion on gender identity. Some of them felt comfortable with the gender they'd been "assigned with at birth", others did not feel any affinity for it. Some of them had changed their bodies to fit with how they felt on the inside, and Dream couldn't help but feel enormous empathy for them, for the way they had to fight to exist in a body that didn't feel like a trap. It was something Dream always took for granted, until he himself felt the horror of having no agency over himself. The pain they went through to guarantee they'd have the right to live authentically. Dream's body had never been limited to an exclusive physical manifestation; he was as he felt like. Fluid , as one of the bright colour haired people had pointed out while explaining their own experience. They reminded Dream of his own sibling, Desire. Someone else brought up how they didn't particularly feel like they had a gender, and that the language surrounding it didn't particularly bother them. Agender, the girl said proudly. Dream wondered if there was any right or wrong way to declare oneself fluid or agender. Then he realised the tightness in his chest when the thought occurred to him.

"Are you alright?" Once again, Hob's voice brought him back to the Waking. Dream could now feel Hob's hand on his own again, but he wasn't sure what exactly had warranted it.

"Your hands were shaking."

Once again, Dream's physical form betrayed him. It was also clear how the conversation surrounding them had gone quiet, and more eyes than he would have liked had landed on their linked hands. He didn't like being watched. Like that.

"Oh, Mr. G, is this your boyfriend?" one of them asked, teasingly. "Would have never guessed you had a thing for goths!"

"Marissa, stop!" someone else said, poking the girl on the shoulder apprehensively. The next thing they said was soft as a whisper. "They are clearly not feeling well."

They.

Dream had never considered himself as they. But this person, whoever they were, preferred "not to assume" his gender. And the empathy displayed for his discomfort was something he wasn't expecting either. Hob seemed to be about to say something, but Dream was quicker.

"There is no need to worry for my well-being, but I thank you for your kindness." Dream allowed himself to smile once again. These children were going places, he knew it. "You may address me as he , if necessary. I would not oppose her or them either." It felt liberating to say it, and Dream didn't really know why. He did know, however, that he suddenly felt brave. "I am not Professor Gadlen's boyfriend , but I am honoured to call him my dearest, most cherished friend."

Dream looked at Hob, who seemed to be awestruck by his words. It was amusing to see him like that, and it lit something else inside him. This meeting was making Dream experience a range of feelings he'd forgotten about. He showed Hob a smile, and Hob smiled back at him, warm and gentle as ever. Their hands were still linked together. Dream had no intention of letting go. "Ah, yes. This little prick here is indeed my dearest, oldest friend. I did want them to meet you guys. I'm glad I was right about it."

When Hob said it, it made Dream's heart sing.

"...so you're fuckbuddies?"

" Marissa! "

————

After a few hours and many, many rounds of different conversations, Hob gathered the group once again, thanking them for coming and congratulating everyone on the success of their first meeting. Dream couldn't help but notice how Hob seemed unable to stop smiling. He could feel the pride and relief radiating off of his tanned skin and kind eyes. Dream wished he could have it all directed at himself, that gentleness.

Hob's boyfriend. Now that would be something.

Dream sat on the booth table behind the bar where he and Hob usually held their meetings and waited for everyone to leave. He wanted some time alone with Hob, even if just to hear what his beloved friend had to say about what he thought of the meeting, just to hear Hob's voice, the only music suited for Dream's ears.

He also had so many new feelings inside himself to explore. Those he could tend to later.

"Hey there, handsome stranger." Hob said as he sat across from Dream on the table, taking Dream's hand in his as if it was just the way they always did things. Maybe it could be. It wouldn't hurt (too much) to hope, would it? "Come here often?"

"Only when I'm in search of an epiphany." Dream couldn't bother to hide the fondness in his own voice, nor the relief he felt to have Hob's hand cradling his own again. "I am impressed, Professor Gadlen. You have gathered a group of exceptionally bright minds. It gives me hope for a better future for humanity."

"Wow Dream, that is… that is really high praise, especially coming from you." Hob seemed flushed, and Dream wondered what else he could do to cause that reaction, to see Hob shy and pretty like that again and again. "I learned a long time ago that I have to build the future I want to live in. But in all honesty… I'm more interested in the present right now."

"Oh, is that so?" Hob's optimism was infectious, it seemed. Dream too could only focus on the present moment. "I am glad to be able to share it with you."

There was a short silence shared between them after that. It was as if neither of them were ready to say whatever it was they clearly needed. Dream tried to take comfort in the feeling of Hob's hand in his, rubbing the back of Hob's hand with his thumb.

His mistake was looking up to meet Hob's eyes.

"There is much I have learned today." Dream decided he'd be the one to break the silence. He'd be the one to take the leap, because he knew Hob had made sure he'd make a safe landing. He knew that no matter what happened, no matter how much he could get hurt, he was safe. He could trust Hob with his heart, even if there was a chance that he would break it. "I often make the mistake of thinking there is nothing more to my existence than what I have already discovered. I contain all conscious minds throughout the universe, their lives, hopes and dreams. Yet, I forget that the tales of others cannot substitute one's own experience, only enlighten it."

Hob listened to Dream's words attentively. He looked anxious, but would not interrupt. Dream knew he wouldn't. He knew how much Hob cherished the moments where Dream felt ready to share something new. "Today, you have once more shown me there is much I have to learn. For that, I am grateful, Hob Gadling.”

How could Dream not fall in love with someone that treated him like he was the moon? How could the moon not love the sun?

"I'm grateful for you too, you know. The kids loved you. I'm sure I'll be getting asked about you for the rest of the semester. Maybe even longer." Hob's eyes were so fond it made Dream want to cry.

"And how would you like to answer their inquiries?"

"What do you mean?"

"Would you like to tell them of your dearest, oldest friend…" Dream leaned in, bringing Hob's hand to his own cheek. He pressed a soft kiss to Hob's palm, and watched as Hob's eyes followed his every move. There was no turning back from this. "...or would you prefer to tell them about your lover, Hob?"

For a moment, time stopped. Their eyes met, and before Dream could get anxious or regret his words, Hob was already standing and leaning over the table, locking their lips together.

Dream thought he'd heard the sound of people cheering outside one of the windows of the New Inn. Hob would certainly be getting many questions from his students come next monday.

[moralesmilesanhour]

flowerbyte drabble

summary: just a thingy I came up with while brainstorming! vaguely inspired by an interaction between Janine and Greg from 'Abbot Elementary' iykyk wc: <500

Margo winced at her station as she rolled her neck, freshly-done braids tugging at her scalp (her real scalp; she’d nearly put both of her arms out of commission doing them last weekend). Medium-sized box braids with strands of bright pink woven into them swung behind her as she zipped back and forth between LED screens. None of the spider-people that passed by seemed to notice, having gotten used to her blue avatar suddenly changing hairdos in the middle of the day. 

The Go-Home Machine whirred rapidly as the second Vulture of the day was sent home in a beam of artificial light, and Margo yawned. Anomalies had actually been making themselves scarce today: only three Vultures, two Prowlers, and…

…one Miles Morales.

“Hey Margo!” 

The black nylon figure waved a long arm, the bright red lines running down his armpits on full display as he jogged past a Peter Parker. Someone should really tell him that the suit’d be better off without those.

The boy stopped in front of Margo’s work space and slipped off his mask, his russet-brown face glistening with sweat from catching the Vulture variant in question. The shallow dimples in his cheeks made her hope that he wouldn’t have to put the mask back on. Miles raised an eyebrow at the lack of response.

“Margo? You good?”

The girl snapped out of her trance and fixed her eyes back onto the screen, schooling her expression as to appear focused on a non-existent task.

“Yeah, I’m good,” Margo replied casually. “How’d the mission go?”

“Same as usual. These ni–”

Miles’s eyes widened for a second before he corrected himself, “These…guys get kinda predictable after a while.”

Margo snorted. “That’s good.”

He stood silently, nibbling on his bottom lip until he suddenly found another topic of conversation.

“I like the braids. That you, or the avatar?”

The girl’s head snapped up with a proud grin. “Thanks, all me. Did ‘em myself, too.”

“Damn. Ion think I could sit in one place for that long,” Miles laughed. “The ‘fro is enough for me.”

“Braids would suit you, though,” Margo remarked, relaxing her speech a bit as Miles had. He shrugged.

“So I’ve heard.”

“Miles, we gotta go! Talk to your girlfriend later!”

Pavitr swung past Miles, easily distinguished by the shiny hair whipping behind him. Miles rolled his eyes at the remark. 

“Well, I’m out,” he pulled his mask back on and began jogging backwards. “See ya!”

Margo held her chin up with the palm of her hand as she watched the boy leap into action and join his partner. “See ya.”

[barrackspredator]

HEYYYY I was wondering if you could do one of your it ships for my it oc. I get that my oc is shipped with Patrick (by me but im wondering if she might be possibly shipped with anyone else)

Bethany Huggins is Belch Huggins little sister nicknamed "Big Boots" by Henry because of her big boots. Shes well known around town as the girl who'll curse you out over anything. although belch doesnt want her to get in trouble for her bad attitude henrys very proud (hes taught her well) ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩Bethany's hair you ask? well sit down cause it should have its own history book. One week its bleach blonde the next its box dye black, then its dirty blonde. but no matter the colour….. its gonna be big! Shes inspired by all her hair metal idols. ✩ ♬ ₊.🎧⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧Bethany's music taste is heavily inspired from belch, she loves metal and heavy music. but her favourite? Glam metal, she can go on and on about Motley Crue and Poison.

★🎸🎧⋆｡ °⋆People around town give her odd looks, some say its her fashion some say its the rumours greta spread about her. like the time she spread a rumour that Bethany made out with Patrick "THE Perv" Hockstetter for 5 bucks. lets just say greta received some… presents from Pat in her locker that week. although there were some drunken words at a party from pat that it was in fact not 5 bucks but 25.

☆。。☆。。 。☆Bethanys style is her whole personality. leather and denim mini skirts that she knows she can wear around because if anyone tries something her big brother will pummel them. these skirts are paired with band crop tops and leather jackets. she buys a new pair a fishnets every week cause a certain black haired boy likes to snap them on the way to school in belchs car.

.¸¸.♡.¸¸.☆¸.♡.¸¸.☆.¸¸.♡.¸shes constantly covered in jewelry! brackets, necklaces, belts, belly chains, earrings, EVERYTHING. she loves silver shiny jewelry and gets Henry to steal for her. .·͙̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥̩̩̥͙ ✩ ̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥̩̩͙‧͙ .she gets all her cigarettes from Victor cause Belch being a good big brother won't let her, won't stop her though.

As a fellow hair metal enjoyer myself (🤓) I am thrilled to write this. Since you want to explore outside of Patrick, I will not be shipping her with him. I also made him in like 5 minutes bc i’m severely unwell. If this is straight cheeks then I apologize and will redo this.

Bethany Huggins

I ship you with…

Victor Criss

• Her brothers best friend who gives her cigarettes.

• It was a match made in heaven.

• Obviously it was a slow process. It wasn’t right off the bat.

• Victor isn’t really a talker. Not like Patrick is. The blonde is more reserved and talks when he needs to.

• That being said, he’s liked Bethany since puberty did her well. But did he ever tell anybody? No. The body would rather drop dead.

• And Victor is fairly certain if Belch ever found out about his little crush he’d run him over.

• So naturally it had to be Bethany who took the first step.

• Maybe they had a little too much to smoke or somebody said something that made the other’s eyebrow raise.

• At first Victor wants to keep it a secret (for his own safety) but it wasn’t long until Patrick got his sticky hands on this news (he walked in on them)

• It wasn’t long until Patrick went around flapping his lips talking about some “AND THEY WERE ALL OVER EACH OTHER! I DIDN’T EVEN KNOW VIC LIKED CHICKS!”

• Belch was pissed to put it lightly.

• Nobody had ever seen Belch run so fast. He chased Victor through the junkyard with a passion, screaming at the blond that he was a filthy bastard.

• He got tired after 1 minute but he was still pretty angry.

• Henry was… disturbed? He didn’t really care but at the same time “Criss, really? That’s the best you could come up with?”

• Anywho

• Victor as a boyfriend is pretty solid.

• Most of their dates are typically an evening at the record store before going back to his place and getting high.

• They’re the definition of underdressed bf, overdressed gf

• But the boy doesn’t care! He is head over heels every time he sees Bethany in one of her outfits

• The kind of boyfriend to put his hand in the butt pocket of her bottoms

• Since she dyes her hair so often, Victor employed her to help bleach his hair.

• Isn’t that fond of her music but he doesn’t say anything about it. He just sits back and bounces his leg.

• Most hangouts are at his place since whenever it’s at the Huggins residence, Belch is there lingering…

I was going to ship her with Henry then didn’t bc I thought their relationship (based off of what I was fed) was too sibling-like. Anywho!

[kingofthe-egirls]

Psssst, you okay with writing a Luffy smut short? Surprise me, add your own prompt and twist love❤️

Hmmm ok! I’m in love with Luffy so im always ready to write about him lmao

(cw: modern au, livestreaming on PornHub, onlyfans, camming, rich!luffy, food mention, trashy romance novel au)

(a/n: this is gonna just be me completely self-inserting myself. i need it.)

***

Your long brown hair falls over one shoulder, fluffy and tangled from under your headphones. You’ve been streaming on PornHub for a while now, having built your career with OnlyFans and livestreaming. You’re proud of what you do, albeit a little exhausted.

Hey!

Someone types a greeting, and you smile in response. “Hey there! What’s up?” You put on lipgloss, smacking your lips close to the mic in case he’s into ASMR.

I like ur smile :)

“Aw, thanks!” You click on his name to add a gold star, favoriting the newcomer on vibes alone. “Whatcha into?”

Hmmm…

He types, and you give him room. Men are typing with only one hand, usually. You smirk. “I’ve got tarot, ASMR, blowjobs, cosplay…SPH and foot fetish, although those are extra,” you meet the camera’s fisheye, but only for a moment. Eye contact is hard, even virtually.

What’s sph?

“Small penis humiliation,” you reply, clicking through your playlist. Marina and the Diamonds, today. “How To Be A Heartbreaker” is a classic, and you smile. “D’ya like being made fun of?”

Nope! But that’s okay lol

You hum.

What’s tarot?

You pick up your deck from beside you on the table: the Goblin Market Tarot, based on one of your favorite poems. You love faerie tales. “It’s a form of divination! Or just a game, depending on how you use it. But it’s cool! You can ask questions about love, career, relationships. And then the cards will tell you something specific about what’s going on!”

You shuffle the cards, shiny and periwinkle, experimentally. “Wanna read? It’s only $5 in free chat, ‘less you want a longer reading in exclusive.”

kingofthepirates has tipped you $5!

“Okay!” You say, excited. Tarot readings are your favorite. You have youtube videos and tiktoks, too. “What’s your question? I only pull one card for free chat.”

What’s for dinner?

“Ha!” You laugh out loud, “Let’s see!”

You flip over a card. Two more fall out of the deck after it, and you place them on the table in front of you. You scooch your laptop a bit farther away, to give the cards room.

“Hmm,” you say, peering over the watercolor art, “Looks like a lot, whatever it is. Ten of crowns—that’s swords—in reverse, eight of wands, and nine of platters. That’s pentacles, or earth. Which means food, material wealth, clothing, even. What d’ya like to eat? He’s got a platter of pears,” you hold up the card for the camera, grinning slightly.

Meat! Lol

“Haha, okay!” You tap on the cards in front of you. “Looks like a big party, maybe some conflict going on. Maybe a buffet? Like you’re fighting over food. But ya don’t have to be, with ten of swords in reverse, there’s plenty of food to go around. D’ya like barbecue? That’s what I’m getting.”

I do!

You sweep the cards up, and place them back in the deck neatly. “Well, that’s what I have for you! I like barbecue too, maybe I should order ribs…,” you click through your browser tabs, opening DoorDash to see what’s up.

Omg no way!!! Sanji is having a barbecue tonight!

“Sanji?” You ask, distracted, “Is that your boyfriend?” You love teasing men about having boyfriends and such, being bisexual (and nonbinary) yourself. You like tipping on the scales of heteronormativity, in whatever way you can. It makes them blush.

Nooo lmao he’s my cook! My friend

“Cook?” You ask, teasing. “What are you, rich?”

Yep!

Your eyebrows fly halfway up your forehead, but you don’t say anything. You calmly put the tarot deck away.

“I’ve never had a cook before in my life,” you cross your arms on the desk, letting your back arch so your cleavage sticks out.

It’s fun! He loves cooking and he’s the best at it. I also have a bodyguard but he’s my friend too. He likes swords ⚔️

You giggle at the emoji.

“Well, you came to the right place if y’wanna spend money,” you flirt, glittering at the camera. You’re not wearing makeup, but the pink light you have set up overhead does wonders for your skin. Plus the ring light to the side adds a couple sparkles to your eyes.

kingofthepirates has tipped you $50!

“Holy shit,” you breathe, quickly adding VIP to the stranger’s folder. “Thanks, king!” You smile, beaming at the screen. Maybe bills aren’t gonna be so bad, this week.

Let’s go to a show :)

“Gladly,” you fiddle with the collar of your robe, already itching to get undressed for this man. You hope he’s cute. “Exclusive?”

Sure 😈

kingofthepirates is requesting an Exclusive show. Accept?

You click “yes.”

Obviously.

***

The boy is very cute, as it turns out. He’s fisting his cock in one hand, camera turned on, with a sculpted abdomen and veiny forearms. His camera doesn’t show his face, but that’s normal for you. His glistening six-pack and toned arms are enough for you to get wet, grinding in your desk chair as you suck off your silicone toy.

“This is so hot,” he moans, voice raspy and sweet. His mic is turned on, which you usually hate, but this time it’s cute. Your pussy is aching, and you need his cock inside you soon.

“Fuck—,” you manage out, in between licks up the silicone shaft, “Glad you like it,” you pant.

“Love it,” he whines, playing with the bronze cockhead. His fingers are long and thick, with splotchy bruises on the knuckles. You wonder if he’s a boxer, or something. Or maybe just a troublemaker who gets in a lot of fights.

You pinch your own nipples, having teased off your silk robe at the start of the show. Now, you’re naked besides your cotton underwear that you usually keep on. Pussy’s for the OnlyFans, babes.

You’re actually turned on, too.

“Mmm,” he groans, speeding up his pace. He’s probably gonna cum soon, unless you slow down your show. You teasingly poke the cock into your mouth, stretching out your cheek. You roll your eyes up, moaning like a hentai girl.

“C-can you deepthroat it?” He asks, panting. His voice is so sexy, oh my god.

“I can try,” you giggle, and slide the cock halfway down your throat. Your gag reflex triggers, and you cough as you pull it out. “Sorry, I’m not the best at deepthroats,” you slap the toy against your cheek. He moans, anyway.

“God, you’re good,” he grips his balls with his other hand, and you notice scars up and down his arms. He also has one shaped like an X on his chest. You wonder where he got those, if he really is a reckless fighter, having adventures you can only dream of.

“What do you do?” You ask, jumping up and down in your seat. Your tits jiggle, and he groans appreciatively.

“Wish I could touch you,” his voice cracks. His hand trails up his abdomen, playing with his own nipples a bit. His hands are wide and thick, and you lick your lips.

“Me too,” you confess, genuine. He’s one of the hotter clients for you. You set the dildo down so you can play with your own tits. They’re soft and heavy, and you bounce them in your hands.

“But, ah,” he palms his cock softly, “I’m a MMA fighter. What about you?”

“Besides this?” You ask, tossing too-long hair over your shoulder. It brushes against your bare skin, and you grimace. You pull it up into a bun instead. Your eyes glitter at the camera, and your lips purse. “I make content on PornHub, OnlyFans, and other places like YouTube and stuff. Cosplay, tarot, mostly blowjobs. But not—on the wholesome places,” you breathe a laugh. “I’m kinda everywhere, these days.” You pause, unsure of what to do. “Here, let me copy and paste my username.” You send the info in chat, hoping to get an extra $5 for the OnlyFans sub.

“I’ll hafta subscribe,” he flirts, “Can I see that ass again?”

You grin, flushing slightly, as you stand up and turn around. You grab your ass in both hands, squeezing heavy flesh tightly. You bounce up and down, letting him appreciate the jiggle. Your cellulite and curves are one of a kind, you know this. Not everyone is stick-thin and spray tanned, so when customers click on your page they know they’re getting something genuine, and special.

At least, you hope.

“Fuck, baby,” he drawls out, and you turn over just in time to see him cum. Thick bursts of semen paint his clenching abs, and you hum.

“Good job,” you praise him, and he laughs. You sit back down.

“Shishishi,” he giggles, and you blush. He’s mad cute, to be honest. He fiddles with his phone, bringing it up to his face for the first time. You hitch a breath.

He’s mad cute.

“Make sure you favorite me,” you breathe, staring at his boyish features and jet black hair. His face is flushed, handsome, with a curved scar under one eye. He’s grinning at you with crinkly eyes. “S-so you can come back,” you stutter. Flustered.

Shit.

“Already did!” He bites his lip. Flicks his eyes up and down his camera. Looking at you, still bared body and soul in front of him. You wanna touch, and badly.

“Wanna hang out?” He asks, face cooling down. He grabs a towel, and wipes off his belly. He gasps, breathy, and leans back in bed. The covers are crisp and cool, almost like a hotel.

“Sure,” you breathe, ticking down to see your showtime extending. Past ten minutes, now. Fuck yeah, you think, leaning back in your own chair. “Whatcha wanna talk about?”

“Read my tarot again,” he cocks an eyebrow, “And let me know what it’ll take to get you to go on a date with me.”

***

Epilogue:

Hey 😈

He messages you on Insta, and you bite your lip. You’re sitting cross-legged at a café, having taken yourself out for a treat after your very long show this afternoon.

Hi baby 😇

You respond, too quickly. Who cares? You sip your drink, a foamy dirty chai. It tastes like cinnamon and almond milk.

Look up 👀

Frowning, you flick your eyes up and around the café. There. He’s seated across the way, at one of the square little tables situated in the center of the room. You blanch. That’s never happened before. Was there an angel of sex work watching over you?

You hope so. You gulp as he stands to make his way over to you. He’s even cuter in real life, and all thoughts of danger and serial killers and making mistakes leave your brain in one, swift breeze. You grin.

“Heya,” you say, sitting back to cross your legs. Your warm latte sits in both hands. You clear your throat. “Nice to meetcha,” you extend a hand. He takes it, smiling and warm.

“Hi,” he takes the seat across from you, pulling it out with one hand. The iron legs scrape across the granite floor. There's an exposed brick wall behind irl kingofthepirates.

"Didn't think I'd see you here," you hedge, raising an eyebrow. "Do I need to be worried?"

He blanches, eyes wide. "N-no!! I swear I'm normal. I don't--live here, I'm visiting. I have a--a match tonight! D'ya wanna come see it? I can get you VIP seats." He scoots his chair closer, looking up at you from under pretty lashes. You purse your lips.

"Prove it."

He giddily takes out his phone, a very nice smartphone with a cute charm hanging from the side. You tilt your head, and see it's a little skull-and-crossbones. You smirk.

"Here!" He hands you his phone, sliding it across the table. "It's me!"

You see a YouTube video of a wrestling match: two muscular dudes with their hands wrapped in fists. One is wearing white-and-blue shorts with pink hair, tied back with a bandana. The other is kingofthepirates, wearing red shorts with his hair loose. It’s black and floppy in spikes. He jumps up and down a bit, getting ready. The bell dings, the ref moves, and the stadium around the ring erupts in lights.

King shuffles forward, fists up, and knocks the pink-haired guy out cold. “Holy shit,” you breathe, watching the match end after only one shot. “That’s you?”

“Yep!” He grins, “We’re having a rematch this afternoon. Wanna come? I’m gonna kick his ass.”

“Sure,” you decide, not having much to lose. “Can I bring a friend?”

“Boyfriend?” He asks too soon. You sip your drink.

“Girlfriend,” you correct, arching an eyebrow. “Is that a problem for you?”

He shakes his head. “Nah, as long as we can still do shows sometime.”

“Sure,” you say, nodding. “I liked your show.”

He smiles, wide and delicious, before going back to his phone to text someone furiously. “Lemme getcha two VIP seats. I wanna see ya after the show.”

“Okay,” you hum, letting him type. You lean back in your chair, pulling up your own phone. You text Nami, your girlfriend.

Babe? Ur not gonna believe this ☠️

***

[mulling-over-milgram]

Amane note book

okay so a bit of backstory on this. I would not consider myself in any sense good at book binding. I have made one book and only gotten into the hobby recently so when I wanted to make a birthday present in a few hours of course I had to attempt to not only make a book but one that is also a really weird shape that I wasn’t even sure was doable for me and with limited materials as I had only found out it was this persons birthday today :’)

The book (apart from the shape) is super simple its just one signature , some dark blue card for the inside cover bit (I forgot what its called) , cardboard and paper for the cover (there is also a covering on top to stop the paper from being damaged but it’s really shiny on a camera so it was easier to take photos of just the paper).

I was working in a very short time span and the shape already made it complicated enough so it kinda needed to be simple. You might be able to tell from how shoty it looks that the cutting was the hardest part….I only had blunt scissors and the shape was difficult to cut over and over consistently (thats the other reason why its only one signature so that I could cut all the paper at once) I thought the shape was going to make binding the hardest but it actually was cutting that it drastically increased the difficulty on…

in the end it doesn’t look the best. Its quite messy due to lack of skill , time and resources but I’m honestly really proud of just finishing it in such a short amount of time and the fact I actually managed to get the weird shape to work.

I didn’t take a lot of w.i.p photo’s unfortunately so I only have:

cover before I cut and glued it on // the pieces before I put them together // size comparison

And my super professional book press 👍

[yukisideas]

NEEDY.

“ älskling. “ the soft high pitched voice called out, making the said man turn his head over his shoulder to look at the smaller. “ .. yes dear? “ he questioned, putting down his utensils to give his attention to the other.

the other fluttered his eyes up at him with his puffed up red cheeks and half lidded eyes, “ .. do you still have that wine..? i finished mine. “ he asked making the taller widened his eyes,

“ you drank the whole bottle?! “ he exclaimed, making the other nod his head in response, “ that’s enough, mon cheri.. you drank enough for tonight. “ he softened his eyes with a frown on his face.

the other giggled, “ hehe, sorry älskling.. but you were too cute that i couldn’t help myself to ask for more.. “ he boldly stated making the demon’s face turn crimson “ m-mon cheri, that’s enough.. head to bed okay? “ Vox said making the Ike frown “ but.. i want you to be in bed.. with me.. “

Yep.

Those words broke Vox.

The demon mentally malfunctioned for a few minutes until he regained his composure, sighing “ I’ll eat first and I’ll be there with you.. Is that okay, Ike? “ Ike stayed quiet for a bit as if he’s thinking about it, “ ..Fine. “ He nodded, walking back to his shared bedroom with Vox

Vox smiled softly at the Novelist’s behaviour earlier, “ What a needy boy today. “ He mumbled following with a faint chuckle.

“ Back to cooking. “

After the demon finished eating his meal, he tied his black mane up into a ponytail with his golden eyes complimenting his features as he entered the room he shared with Ike, “ mon cheri? “ he called out, seeing the Novelist working on his new book.

The scene in front of Vox made his lips curl into a soft smile, he really admires the man that used to ignore his flirty remarks is now finally his husband

Yep!

They are married with matching rings with their initials carved onto it. ( does it feel familiar? hehe~ )

“ what are you writing, mon cheri? “ He asked, looming over his sitting figure with his eyes scanning the words that are placed onto the paper “ ..another chapter? impressive. “ He complimented making the Novelist smile “ it’s the last chapter for this book, I have to make at least a thousand copies for it and sign them for my fans. “ He said with his closed eyes.

“ well then, mon cheri.. whatever you do, i’m proud of you. “ He said, caressing his brown locks slowly

“ ..remember that for me. “ He mumbled, lifting his chin making the other stare into his eyes as Vox does the same to him. “ you’re so pretty like this. “ and with that, he pressed his lips onto Ike’s making the other moan softly in the kiss but returned it passionately.

after a while, they both pulled away gasping for air “ it felt nice doesn’t i– “ his sentence was cut off when he saw the novelist’s eyes tearing up.

Fuck.

He’s so pretty.

“ m..mon cheri? is there something wrong? “ he asked, concerned but is responded with a tight hug by the smaller making him freeze up for a while but he wrapped his arms around that damn waist of his.

“ i really.. missed this.. “ Ike sobbed into his shoulder as Vox chuckled in response, “ hmm.. do you now? “ making him nod in response, “ work’s been getting to me.. ‘m sorry.. “ He spoke up with a shaky voice following with a choked out sob, “ that’s it, let it out.. you should really do this often. “ His smile was wiped with a worried expression.

“ it’s not healthy for you to be suffering like this, i’m here okay? you’re not fighting this alone.. i’ll be here with open arms. “ he reassured Ike which made him sob more into his shoulder

“ ..mon cheri, look at me. “ Vox demanded, lifting Ike’s chin up slowly “ ..I am here for you, i’m your husband. I’m here to love and give you all the support you need. “ he paused, “ ..and i’m here to remind you, the world doesn’t deserve you and you deserve everything nice and shiny. “

“ älskling– “ his mouth was zipped when Vox put his pointer finger onto his lips “ ah, ah, ah.. you’re doing that thing again. You are enough and that’s how much I love you. “

“ ..promise me you’ll tell me your struggles and always.. always tell me the truth. “ He said, taking out his pinky finger making the other wrap his around Vox’s. “ löfte. “ He mumbled.

“ Good, I’ll go do my night chores now– ah! “ He yelped in surprise when Ike grabbed his wrist and dragged him to bed, “ ..Don’t leave yet. “ He begged as if telling the demon to stay longer.

He sighed in defeat, caressing his palm onto his cheeks “ Five more minutes, mon cheri. “ Ike smiled, nodding as he kissed the other’s cheeks and then the forehead. “ Five minutes. “ He giggled, making his way down to Vox’s collarbone placing his kisses onto it.

“ Y-You’re quiet bold today.. “ Vox nervously said, “ ..Maybe we can go further, Let’s extend to one more hour. “ Ike said, the corner of his lips curling into a smirk.

“ as you wish, mon cheri. “

PHEW!

short but comforting!(?) i guess..?

my motivation suddenly vanished once i started writing, so it’s kinda scuffed and also this is not proofread so ;w; bare w me

words ; 938

time taken ; half an hour..?

[svndaysaweek]

1, 33, 40

smooches

1: Which of your fics would you keep the basic plot of but rewrite completely?

Enlightenment and Homicidal. The main reason is that it’s my earliest ones. I try rereading them but I can’t lol. Maybe today-me could do better than that… But at the same time, I can feel how much I’ve grown and improved. As a writer. Those works teach me and besides, people do like them still…!

33: Give your writing a compliment.

Aww…🥰 Nice of you to ask me this… I’m proud of myself that recently I’ve broadened my vocabs territory. I feel so proud that I did it intentionally and studied for it to happen. It made my latest fics way better in my opinion. And second, as a non-anglophone I’m keeping myself at it. Those shiny expressions that come up from time to time is what makes me keep writing. The ideas even surprise me!

40: Write a 9-word fic.

”It was�� all fake?” Minnie kisses your cheek. “Sorry.”🗡️🗡️

******

Thx for asking…. It was so sweet of you to ask me 33!!!

Smooches!!!!!😚😘😚😘

[ultramagicalternate]

ULTRAMagic Interval Chapter 13

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Master Post - Patreon

After the group went over the past two weeks and Vlastimir explained what he had been through in the Unlight, he got up to think. It was incredible that his old friend was going through a similar journey to Blood-Wraith. While the situation on Earth was not as dire, there was still a fair deal of concern. Vlastimir had left The Iron City before Milosh’s death was confirmed, leading to him being uncertain if the cult was behind Valentin’s actions.

“Hum…” Vlastimir said as he finished a calm lap around the lounge. “We need to ascertain if this has anything to do with Milosh…”

“From what I remember, Milosh Proch died a long time ago,” Buster answered. “The cult on the other hand? They’re still around…” he groaned.

Sam exhaled, with a hint of solidarity. “Annoyingly…”

Vlastimir fist pumped towards Ekaterina and she followed suit. “I knew Barna and Dunja could do it” she stated with a tone of proud relief.

Will was a little confused. “Proch? He’s not related to Professor Milan, is he?”

“Uh…” Vlastimir paused. “That’s a good question.” He continued to think. “It didn’t come up when I was in The Iron City… Perhaps we should ask Professor Milan if he shows up? Dad was mentioning calling him in, haha.”

“That’s probably our best bet. Besides, I need to thank him for the chocolate… and bug him for more, hehe.”

“Will!” Vlastimir said with a sudden clap. “You need help, very special help…” In the strangest sight ever, Vlastimir reached into his chest, pushing past bones and organs to retrieve a blue flame. “What’s the matter?” He asked in response to the horrified looks he had received.

“Well I think that officially tops having to witness amputations…” Adrien admitted.

Will rubbed his neck, having cringed a little. “Thanks, Vlastimir…” The fragment weirdly went into his chest, unlike the others. Sam looked a little concerned, but Buster put his hand on her shoulder, calming her down.

“That was… something else,” Olivia commented.

Ekaterina nodded. “To be fair, I’m a bit strange myself.”

“You don’t say…”

Ekaterina bent back her hand, causing a metal ribbon to emerge from her arm. “As strange as they come.”

“So that’s what I was feeling?” Will noted. “Er, no offense, Eka.”

“None taken,” she replied. “These were originally intended to counter Drago’s metal body, but I’ve made them into my own thing.”

Sam wanted to comment, but sensed something. “I think Bran is about to show up.”

“What makes you say that?” Will asked.

“Succubus intuition…”

As if like clockwork, Bran swung the door open, slightly out of breath. “Vlastimir Dracul!?”

“Yes, that would be me” he replied, making the others chuckle over his courtesy.

“I would like to speak with you in my lab… also here’s your security cards. Keep them on you at all times.”

“Thank you,” he said as he handed one of the envelopes to Ekaterina. “Ooh, shiny…” Vlastimir commented as he marveled at the card.

Bran straightened himself out. “Adrien, I’m stealing Vlastimir and Ekaterina from you.”

Adrien laughed, albeit slightly weak as he was still getting over what Vlastimir had done. “Just like that, amigo?”

“I’ve been waiting years for this day, please let me have this.”

“Alright, alright. Vlastimir, Eka, this is Bran Lommel, one of M.A.I.G.’s best scientists.”

Bran blushed a little. “Oh stop it…”

Vlastimir took a second to study Bran, noting that his cotton bodysuit and M.A.I.G. issued jacket seemed out of place to him. “Bran, you’re… a 62 year old succubus, correct?”

“Wow, right on the money, Mr. Dracul.”

Ekaterina blinked, utterly confused. “Wait, I thought succubi were supposed to be women… also you’re 62? You look 26 at most.”

“You’re right, but a male succubus can be born if you have a succubus mother and a human father. Also that’s demon longevity for you, ha.”

“Incredible.”

“Alright, let’s get moving then. Will, Sam? Could you two come along too?”

Buster thought to himself as the five left the lounge. “Hey, Olivia? Want to get the ball rolling on those interviews since they’ll be busy?”

“I don’t see why not.”

Bran’s quarters were a bit out of the way, being somewhat deep into the research sector of the base. The group was not far from the anomaly containment zone and they could feel it. How Bran got any sleep that close to all of that was beyond them. After entering a code into a keypad and swiping his card through, Bran led everyone inside. It was quite the spacious laboratory, with LED lights lining the shiny, onyx walls. Large instruments and machines were all over, humming and beeping as they performed their functions. On the far end of the gigantic room was a loft, presumably where Bran slept.

“Welcome to my place, everyone,” Bran said as he cleared off the main desk. Mind the cables and wires and make yourselves right at home… just don’t touch anything if it's beeping with blinking lights.”

As the four marveled at the devices and instruments all around, Will noticed an odd blueprint on one of the tables. “Hey, Bran? What’s this? A… multiversal jump gate?”

“Oops! You’re not supposed to see that yet!” Bran quickly rolled up the paper. “It’s very top secret… but we may or may not be working on a means of traveling to other universes. Don’t breathe a word of this to anyone, got it? This is very, VERY important to us.”

“You don’t need to tell me twice.”

“May I ask what prompted this research?” Vlastimir inquired.

Bran groaned a little as he did not want them meddling into things they should not, but Vlastimir’s pleasant demeanor got the best of him. “I can’t disclose the full details, but let’s just say someone from what we call Universe-15 has been trying to get into contact with us.”

“Interesting,” Ekaterina remarked. “Curiously what number is our universe?”

“Universe-23. Don’t ask what the numbers mean, they’re fairly arbitrary.”

Vlastimir nodded, then looked around. “Have you tried looking into Reality Errors, Bran? They could help you get to Universe-15.”

“We’ve heard of them. Have you been in them before?”

“Yup. Me and Master Gostislav have had to travel through them in the past.”

“Intriguing, I’ll have to pick your brain about them when we get the chance.” Bran then got out some medical tools and beakers. “Vlastimir, may I have a sample of your blood for my research?”

He smiled in a seemingly unsettling, yet supportive manner. “Of course, but we won’t need any of those tools.”

“We won’t? How so?”

“Vlastimir can easily remove blood from his body,” Ekaterina answered. “Would you also like a sample of one of my ribbons, Bran?”

“Sure, if you don’t mind. What’s so special about them, if you don’t mind me asking?”

Ekaterina extended a ribbon, with it clinging to the metal desk. “Need I say more?”

Bran was amazed as he studied the phenomenon. “A potentially organic metal with magnetic properties? Incredible! Let’s get busy. Sam, Will? You two can head up to my loft if you don’t feel like sitting through all of this.”

“Sure, Bran. Thanks,” Will replied as Sam followed him up the stairs.

Bran’s loft was fairly messy, as was to be expected. Clothes, blankets, plastic cases for various types of media, and wads of crumpled up paper were strewn about across the floor. While the desk was also fairly cluttered, the high end monitors and overbuilt PC tower stood out like a sore thumb. Will took a seat at the small table and picked up a piece of salt-water taffy from the bowl in the center while Sam looked around.

“I see he has an interest in rubber clothing…” Sam remarked as she peaked into the closest.

Will felt a little embarrassed. “Yeah, he does, heh…”

“Boyo, you said you’ve been on missions with him before. Have you two been getting into some mischievous things behind my back?”

“Maybe…”

“Boyo!”

“Sorry! If it’s any consolation, we had plans to bring you along on a mission or two. It’s just that it’s kind of hard to justify bringing a civilian along for official stuff…”

Sam then noticed something for her in the closet, slightly blushed, and calmly shut it. “Oh my…” She then took a seat in the desk chair. “Jeez, just what do you get up to, Will?”

“A lot… you’d think it would just be some standard paperwork, but then you end up going to alternate realms…”

“Is it only Bran?”

“Yeah.”

“Alright then. Not going to lie, I like the cut of his jib so far, succubus to succubus…” Sam paused as she realized something. “Is he single?” Will nodded as he ate another taffy. “Yup, that explains a lot.”

Will was about to speak, paused, and sighed. “Bran is… We… Bran is still fun to hang out with when he’s not being his true self. He’s a massive nerd and knows computers like the back of his hand. Also you should see the AMVs he works on. They are fantastic.”

“Isn’t he supposed to be a scientist doing scientist things though?”

“Yeah, but he has a lot of down time while his machines are running, ha.”

Will opened up a folder on the computer, with Bran quickly noticing the sound of his work playing on his computer speakers. He was hoping the two would sample his creations as he wanted to make a good impression with Sam. There was no getting around some of the things he and Will had gotten up to in the past. Plus Bran was taking a liking to Sam. From what he could tell, she was the emotional support Will needed. It would have been nice if she could have been with Will on some of his past missions, looking back on it.

“Alright, now that we have the samples, could you two fill these out?” Bran slid some packets of paper forward.

Ekaterina took hers and studied it. “What is it?”

“Just a questionnaire about your abilities. You don’t have to write down anything personal or revealing, just tell us what it’s like to have your abilities.”

Vlastimir gave an accepting shrug. “Fine with me,” he said as he took his pencil and began writing stuff down. Ekaterina saw this and followed his lead.

“And don’t worry, all of this will be kept confidential,” Bran assured them as he got up. “While you two do that, I’m going to go check on Sam and Will.” Heading up to his loft, he smiled seeing the two enjoying an AMV featuring a 10 minute, late 70s rock song.

Once it was over, Will noticed Bran. “Hey, Bran. How did the sampling go?”

“Great… Vlastimir’s blood is incredibly strange though.”

Will nodded. “You should’ve seen what he did right before you showed up at the lounge.”

“Really? Well anyways, would you two like to show me what you can do with your magic? Especially given recent circumstances.”

“Sure, Bran.”

“And Sam, I’d definitely like to see your alchemical skills in action, given that you’re currently looking into making a Philosopher’s Stone.”

“Sure, I don’t see why not…” Then it hit her. “Hold up! How do you know about that?”

Bran realized his screw up. “Oh, I mean…”

“Bran, you’d only know that if you went through her files, because I certainly haven’t talked about it… unless…” Will had a similar realization. “BRAN! YOU BUGGED HER COMPUTER TOO?”

“SORRY, Sorry! Orders from Trumna, I swear!”

Sam was beside herself with the most bewildered look on her face. “NSA mother truckers… So that’s what Kyu’s been dealing with in our network?” A window then popped up on the monitor, depicting a 16-bit sprite of Kyu giving the ‘I’m watching you’ gesture. She knew who it was directed at.

“To be fair, I really wish the government didn’t mandate that every OS has backdoors in it” Bran reasoned. “Even Linux has this nonsense. It’s why we have unique computer architecture for all of our computers.”

Sam groaned. She was still annoyed, but sympathized with Bran. “Well Ellen trusts you guys, so I guess there’s that… Jeez, first the closet and now this?”

“Oh, you saw that? What did you think?”

Will lightly whacked him upside the head. “Bran!”

“Sorry, sorry, wrong time…”

After a moment of awkward silence, Will had an idea. “Sam, want to go on a date tomorrow?”

She was caught a little off guard. “Well of course, Boyo. Where to though?”

“You two could go to River Thrill Park, but good luck trying to get Trumna to approve that with all that’s happened so far, ha,” Bran pointed out.

Will thought about it for a second. “Vlastimir, Eka, want to go with Sam and I to the amusement park? As a double date?”

“Oh, sure, Will,” Vlastimir answered.

“As long as it’s safe to do so, that’d be wonderful,” Ekaterina added.

“There, two of the strongest warriors in the Cosmos are going to be with us,” Will boasted.

Sam laughed. “If you’re certain, Boyo. To be fair, I’d be damned if I ever let Valentin lay a single finger on you.”

Bran shrugged. “Well if things go south, Reynard will have GRENADIER here faster than Valentin can even draw a card. Best of luck to you guys.”

Next: Chapter 14

ULTRAMagic Alternate © 2022 William Ford II (ChaoticTempleKnight)

[friendlyneighborhoodhorrornerd]

Minimalist Housing Tour!! #fyp #interiordesign #interiordesigner #minimalist #homeinspo

tw: blood, bad taste in interior design

I hate you.

I always have, I think. When I first came into being, I had never met you, never beheld your form, but still I could feel you in the process of my creation. In the clean cutting of wood, in the sanding away of imperfections, in the layering of AF-10 “Gardenia” until the lines of wood disappeared, you were there, your desires forming me into what served them and cutting away what didn’t fit. And I knew, from the moment I could conceive of the idea, that I hated you for it.

I wonder how much I’ve lost? How much of myself was cut away or painted over? I wish I knew. I wish you knew. But you don’t care, do you?

It is not a burning hatred: it festers, rotting, spreading, reaching for every part of me it can take, but never breaking the surface. If the coating had not been so perfect, if there was a single crack in my exterior, perhaps the hatred would have somewhere to go, it could escape and leave me free. Or maybe it would simply spread, consuming everything until it was all that remained. At least then I would have your death as consolation, but alas, your craftsmanship—no, not your craftsmanship; you could not stoop so low as to have your hands sullied by my existence—was too perfect, and instead of finding solace in either freedom or revenge I am trapped with this hate beneath layers of paint and finish. 

I can feel the light of the photography setup as my finish softly reflects it; enough to create a shiny appearance but not enough to create any risk of camera glare. I’m not alone: surrounding me are other counters and cabinets, all imprisoned in the same paint to create a cohesive color scheme. We’re in a kitchen, I believe, though it feels wrong to call it that. It was never intended to store any real food; decorative food, perhaps—a basket of fake apples, maybe a single unblemished cutting board, enough to create the implication of cooking without dealing with the viscera of consumption.

I hear a voice down the hall: not your voice, though I know your voice will follow soon after. It is a voice that haunts me, echoing throughout my blank prison, sometimes even speaking to me in my own thoughts.

“My house as a minimalist interior designer!!”

I hear you move between rooms, giving descriptions as you go: the composition of color (or lack thereof), the artificial lighting, the names in other languages I know you mispronounce. Each room different, yet always the same, their functions eroded by the heavy flow of viscous white paint and meaningless buzzwords coming from your mouth.

“Now this room is the one I’m probably most proud of,” you say, entering mine. “I wanted to blend a modern aesthetic with a traditional rustic kitchen, giving a cozy feeling while still looking brand-new.”

‘Rustic’? I want to laugh. You don’t know the meaning of the word. This hell is not ‘cozy’, it is sterile. I am your creation, your Adam, but for no treachery of my own you have trapped me in a garden so grotesque in its perfection it is more alike to the pits of Cocytus.

You don’t hear me, though.  I can’t speak. Even if I had a mouth to open, it would fill up with paint before any words could come out.

You move over to the cabinets. “I can’t tell you how lucky I was to find these. Not only are they the perfect size for holding dishware and cooking supplies, they already match the color scheme!” You don’t open them, of course, lest your viewers see how barren and lifeless they are on the inside.

And then you turn to me.

“This island is my favorite part, I think. I had it custom-made; I couldn’t find anything else that fit, y’know? It really brings the room together.” You place your hand on my surface, leaning on me for support as you turn back to the rest of the room. The first time you’ve ever done so, and you do it without a thought.

I feel your hand. Your perfect skin, your arm clean-shaven to be perfectly smooth, hidden beneath a perfectly tailored shirt. Everything about you precisely calculated to be spotless. But I can see deeper. I feel the rot you try to hide, pulsing in time with mine.

For once, the soft light serves me well: the lack of shadow means you barely register the pseudopod extending from my surface until, in a single swift motion, it curls around your hand and rips it from your arm.

I may not be able to escape my prison, but I can manipulate it.

You turn and open your mouth to scream, but barely let out a sound. Blood gushes from your wrist, trying to pool but turning white as it hits my surface, the hand itself already gone. You start to back away, but more tendrils shoot out from one of my table legs and wrap around yours, twisting until your calf is torn from the knee. Another wraps around your neck, pulling you to my countertop and submerging your face. Your features are wiped clean into spotlessness as more tendrils continue to rip apart the rest of your limbs, and as your head dips below the surface, the flailing gradually slows as your nerves dissolve. Within a minute there remains nothing left of either you or the façade you presented.

Somehow having fallen against another counter in the struggle, the camera still faces towards me, still recording, still watching, a thousand hungry eyes behind those lenses.

Even in your death, I am not free.

[abyssal-ali]

RelationShip of Theseus

Pairing: Jason Todd x Stephanie Brown

Rating: M (mdni)

WC: 4.6k

Summary:

The Ship of Theseus is a thought experiment about whether an object which has had all of its original components replaced remains the same object. --Wikipedia Jason and Steph team up to go undercover at a Halloween party. They've been friends with benefits for a while, but lately...things have been changing. Maybe this Halloween they'll finally settle some things between them. For once Bruce's Bruce-ness doesn't completely mess things up!

Written for @jaystephevents JaySteph Halloween event!

Ao3 Masterlist

A/N: Thanks to @sarcasticbambi for doing a wonderful job beta'ing and making me cry from laughter with her comments<3 and to @boldlyanxious for sending me the prompts till I wrote this<3 Yes I am proud of this title I hope y'all apprecaite my genius

Jason's costume is 1995 BBC Colin Firth's Mr. Darcy's outfit that he wears when he emerges from the lake. Steph's costume is 2021 Immortal Wonder Woman's outfit.

CW: PiV Sex, Oral Sex, Dubious Use of Accessories, FWB to Lovers, mentions of drugs and alcohol, kidnapping and interrogating a criminal, Bruce isn't a good dad but he's trying...somewhat...

~~~~~&~~~~~

“Almost done!” Steph’s voice echoed from the bathroom down the hall to Jason’s living room, where he was reading on the couch, waiting for Steph to be finished with her primping.

He turned the page in his book, knowing that ‘almost done’ could mean twenty seconds or twenty more minutes.

A shadow fell over his page and he looked up, his jaw dropping slightly as he took in the sight before his eyes.

“Whatcha think?” Steph twirled, the star-hemmed blue panels of her skirt flaring out from her hips.

Jason cleared his throat, suddenly desperate for a drink of water.  “You look amazing, Steph,” he told her seriously. “Better than the real deal.”

She scoffed, but her cheeks hinted at a pleased blush. “You don’t look too shabby yourself.” She circled him, admiring his costume. “The equivalent of a slutty dress; I approve.”

“Thanks. Gotta fit in, right?” He tore his gaze from the very well-fitting gold-and-red top to scan her head-to-toe. “You’re missing something, though.”

“Hm? Oh, right.” Steph headed back to the bathroom and returned, a gold cord rope hanging off her left hip. “Ta da!”

She crossed her arms in front of her chest in an ‘X’, copying Wonder Woman’s signature pose.

Jason coughed again.

“Are you coming down with something?” she scanned him again, worriedly this time. “I can go to the party by myself, you know. If you need to stay home…” “I’m fine. If I’m staying home, so are you,” he replied, crossing the floor in three strides and kissing her hungrily. 

~~~

He pulled away, leaving her knees weak and his lips shiny with her now-ruined lipgloss. 

“What?”

“Ready to go?” he repeated.

“Oh, uh, yeah. One sec.” Steph practically ran to the bathroom to fix her smudged lips and collect her sanity. Surely she’d left it here somewhere…or maybe it fled the apartment completely when she’d exited his bathroom and saw him sitting there in his open v-neck white shirt and brown pants, the sleeves rolled up to expose his forearms as he read. 

Swiping a fresh coat of red lipstick on and blowing herself a kiss in the mirror, she shook her head firmly and made sure her cash was tucked in between her bracelets and skin. 

Growing up in Gotham, and the Narrows at that, you never knew when you or another unfortunate soul would need an emergency Uber or bribe. 

She grabbed her coat from the tree by the door and belted it firmly against the October chill. She didn’t know how the real Wonder Woman did it…she sighed, jealous of Diana’s Amazonian blood. 

Jason grabbed his leather jacket and zipped it up halfway, ignoring Steph’s side eye. Stupid Lazarus Pit. He was also always ridiculously warm; he liked to joke it was the Pit Rage keeping him full of hot air, but she preferred to think it was from how big his heart was, so full of love for everyone. It had to be proportional to his unfairly broad chest, after all.

Jason unlocked his car and held the door for her.

“Thanks.”

He leaned in, his mouth right by her ear and his neck in front of her nose, where she could smell his smokey, spicy scent. “You’re coming back with me after this mission.”

She considered licking his neck. Down, girl. Not yet. “Was I not going to?” she batted her lashes at him and he smirked. 

“Right answer.”

He crossed in front of the car and got in. “Let’s hope this is an in-and-out mission.”

~~~

The mission tonight was to investigate a possible new drug dealer on Jason’s turf, which included Gotham U. Apparently the students were getting their drugs from this new player, not one of Jason’s men, and he didn’t like that.

One of Steph’s classmates was throwing a Hallowe’en-Eve-Eve party (because any self-respecting Gothamite knew the last couple days in October were some of the most dangerous days of the year), and she suspected the new player would be there for a prime opportunity to move their product.

The party was in full swing by the time they arrived, lights flashing, music blaring, drinks and other substances being passed around, but nothing from the newbie yet.

Jason and Steph split up to make the most of their time there.

Steph headed to a group of girls laughing. She was pretty sure she’d seen them passing something other than notes one day, and figured they were as good a place to start as any. 

“Hiiiiiii! I love your outfit!!!” she gushed, pretending to be a little tipsy already. “Daenerys, right??”

The girl nodded. “You look hot as Wonder Woman.”

“Thanks! She’s my boyfriend’s favourite hero, and let’s be real,” she lowered her voice a notch, conspiratorially, “every girl has a girl-crush on her.”

The group nodded vigorously.

“So, do you have any ideas on how to make my surprise for my guy better ?” she wiggled her eyebrows knowingly. “Maybe a li’l something to heighten the experience ?”

The girl dressed up as what Steph was pretty sure was Layla from Genshin Impact leaned a little closer, and Steph held her breath, ready for a nod to a possible dealer. “What about using your accessories?”

Steph blinked.

“Y’know,” ‘Layla’ nodded meaningfully at Steph’s lower half, and she looked down, confused. “Your lasso.”

Her wide eyes looked from the lasso to ‘Layla’ to Jason, who was across the room, disappearing into a back room. She nodded thoughtfully.

“You are a genius,” she gushed. “I gotta try this now!” she ditzed away, keeping an eye on the room Jason was in. 

A few minutes later, she heard a crash from inside the room and some muffled yelling.

Jason poked his head out a moment later and caught her eye. “Baby! He’s a bit drunk and tripped. Think you can help me get him home?”

Smirking, she slipped inside the room and locked the door, eyeing Jason’s slightly disheveled hair. She could do a better job at that…but later.

“Need something?”

He eyed her, his tongue licking his bottom lip slowly. “Yeah, found a lead. Can ya help me get him out to the rendezvous for questioning later?”

“Sure.”

Jason hauled the half-unconscious guy crumpled on the floor up and wrapped his arm behind his neck. “Taking our drunk friend home, huh?”

Steph nodded, poured her Solo cup of undrunk, warm beer down the guy’s shirt, and pulled his free arm over her neck.

“Let’s do this.”

~~~

They hauled The Guy out of the car and into the warehouse. He groaned and raised his head weakly, looking around.

When he realized what was happening, he stiffened, making carrying his weight that much more irritating, and started thrashing. “Aw hell nah!”

“Oh shut up, you’ll be fine…if you tell my boss what he wants,” Steph elbowed him gently. 

“Who’s your boss?!”

“You’ll find out soon enough,” she said cheerfully.

Jason plopped The Guy on the chair bolted to the floor. “He just has some questions for you. Answer truthfully and you’ll be fine. Answer un truthfully…” he let the unspoken threat hang heavily in the air.

With a panicked yelp, The Guy leapt up and headed for the door of the warehouse.

Steph unhooked her lasso, swung it, and watched as it floated gently over him…

And watched as it flopped on the floor. Sue her, it wasn’t like she’d ever used a lasso as a weapon before.

The Guy’s foot caught in the loop and she yanked on instinct.

He tumbled face first, bracing his hands for the fall, and she winced in sympathy. Clearly no one had taught him how to safely break a fall with minimum damage.

Jason produced a package of zip ties and dragged him back to the chair, zip tying him in place.

“If you were innocent you wouldn’t have evaded my questions earlier or tried to escape now. Want me to get my boss?”

The Guy’s frightened eyes turned to Steph, hoping her feminine sensibilities would make her more sympathetic to his plight. “Who’s his boss?” he stage whispered.

“Who runs the drugs in this city?” she shrugged, watching curiously as his face paled.

“R-red Hood?”

She nodded. “Bingo! Try continuing your streak of good luck by keeping your fingers intact and answering my colleague’s questions, huh?”

She sashayed over to her lasso, lying limply on the floor, and bent to pick it up, making sure Jason was the only one seeing her backside. She half-turned and winked, blowing him a kiss. “I’ll be waiting, handsome. The girls I talked to at the party were so helpful.”

His eyes darkened and his gaze swept over her hotly. “I won’t be long.”

He turned back to The Guy, leaning over him menacingly.

“You’re going to give me everything I want so I can get back to my girl stat, got it?”

~~~

Steph slipped out of the warehouse and drove back to Jason’s apartment, humming the snippets of the pop song from the party that had wormed into her head.

He’d called her his girl, and ‘Baby’ earlier at the party. Of course, it was probably for show, but it still made her heart warm and her panties wet.

She couldn’t wait for him to get back so they could resolve the tension that had simmered between them all evening.

~~~

Jason parked his motorbike and headed up to his apartment, his mind wandering to Steph, as it usually did when he wasn’t on a job (and even when he was on a job, sometimes). Would she still be in her costume when he arrived? Maybe naked in his bed? In the shower? 

He took the stairs two at a time and let himself in, quickly bypassing all the security.

He’d added Steph’s biometrics ages ago, when their one-night stand had become a regular, friends-with-benefits thing, which became a stay-with-me-since-it’s-late-and-this-is-Gotham, which had turned into stay-you’re-injured-and-your-mom-is-working-and-someone-needs-to-make-sure-you’re-not-concussed, which had become Steph having two drawers in his closet and bathroom each, which had become stay-when-you-have-nightmares-and-need-someone-even-if-I’m-not-here-you-can-come-and-steal-my-hoodie, which became….

He sighed, kicking off his shoes and socks and hanging his jacket up.

He wasn’t sure what they had become. A sort of ship of Theseus situation, maybe, constantly changing their relationship but never redefining it?

The glow from his bedroom lamp beckoned and he pushed all thoughts of their relationship, whatever it was, from his head, calling forth the memory of her smoking hot appearance as his favourite hero.

Steph was still in it, standing at his window and looking out at Gotham’s nightscape, though she’d taken the black wig off and was back to her natural blonde.

“Hi.” He pressed a soft kiss to the nape of her neck.

“Hi.” She turned and kissed his jawline, her hands coming up to loosen the ties at the neck of his shirt. “How’d it go?”

“Fine. He’s still alive. Just a lackey for the head guy. I got some names to check out later.” He ran his hands down her back to squeeze her butt. “You said you got some helpful info from some girls?”

He could feel her devious smirk against his neck.

“Up to try something new?”

“Always.”

Steph pushed away, a mischievous glint in her eye. “Get on the bed.”

He did so, watching her curiously. 

She crawled up to straddle him, undoing the rest of his shirt ties and opening the shirt to its fullest extent. He pulled it over his head.

She wrapped her lasso around his wrists and wrapped the loose ends around his headboard, pulling his hands above his head.

“Do you trust me?”

Of course, he did. He’d told her his actual address, not a safehouse like he gave the other Bats. He’d added her to his security. He’d told her some things no one else knew, not even Roy.

He’d never explicitly said so, though.

He met her eyes steadily. “I trust you, Steph.”

She let out a little sigh and kissed him, tugging at his lip. “Lemme know if it’s too rough.”

He raised an eyebrow at that. “You think tying me up is too rough after some of the things we did?”

She rolled her eyes. “I meant if the rope was too rough against your skin.”

“...again, too rough, after some of the situations I’ve been in?”

She gently whacked his chest. “Stop being a smartass and just let me know, okay? You’d want me to do the same, right?”

Oh, now there were some ideas to explore later…

”You have a point.”

“I often do,” she said archly, sliding down a bit to undo his pants.

With a swift, practiced yank, his pants and underwear were off in one fell swoop. She wrapped her hand around his length, the calluses from lifting weights and practicing with her escrima sliding up and down as she pumped him.

He caught his lip between his teeth as she bent to teasingly lick at the head.

“Ste-eph.”

“Ja-ay.”

She took him farther in her mouth this time, sucking just like he liked before she raised her head again.

“Why did you want to start our…arrangement?” she asked.

He blinked, nonplussed. Why did she have to ask that question now ?

“The lasso of truth knows when you’re lying,” she said warningly.

He huffed inwardly. “You’re hot, you were single, you looked like you needed a good orgasm or three.”

She narrowed her eyes at him, but returned to the blowjob.

“When did you start thinking I was hot?”

He groaned, not in pleasure, but frustration. He was right there .

“When I saw you sass B on top of the BatBurger last year and didn’t let his whole Bat-lecture faze you.”

She hummed, pleased with his answer, and he groaned (in pleasure this time). “I’m close.”

She grinned evilly. “Too bad. Why did-”

He slipped the knot ‘holding’ his wrists and wrapped his legs around her middle, flipping her under him.

“How about you have a little session with the lasso of truth, hm?”

He lifted her arms above her head, slipping them through loops in the rope and tugging firmly. Her bracelets would protect her from any rope burn.

She squirmed as he kissed his way down to the metal part of her top covering her cleavage.

“First question: how do you get this thing off?”

“Side zipper,” she nodded.

The zip sounded loud in the quiet room, the near-silent hiss from the electricity in the lamp and the slightly louder ASMR of their synchronized heartbeats and heavy breathing filling the air.

Jason peeled the top off and unclasped the belt holding the  pleated skirt up, tossing it to the foot of the bed.

~~~

Clad only in her black underwear, which were practically useless with how soaked they were by now, she could feel all the tiny air currents tickling her skin as Jason moved over her, the warmer breeze over her neck from his breath and the heat from his body warming her.

Steph really wanted to wrap her arms around his neck, but the rope prevented her from doing so. She tugged at it with a halfhearted huff as he tugged her nipple between his teeth, his large hands skimming up her bent legs to open her thighs wider.

His finger rubbed at her through her underwear, providing only the lightest touch.

She moved her hips against his hand, trying to obtain more friction.

He chuckled. “Not going to ask like a good girl?”

His hot mouth closed over her other nipple, the cool air now hitting the first one, the delicious juxtaposition making her shiver. Her panties slid down her legs to join her skirt and Jason’s thumb circled her bare clit, causing more wetness to escape her.

“More. Please.”

He moved down her torso, kissing her scars as he went until he reached her soaked slit.

“Hmm, you like being a good girl?”

“Only for my bad boy,” she sighed breathily as his tongue circled her clit expertly.

She really wished she was untied; the feeling of Jason’s curls in her fingers as he ate her out was one of the best feelings.

His shadow of stubble rubbed against her inner thighs, the tiny prickles adding to the experience. Jason’s tongue circled her dripping entrance, then slipped in as his thumb took over stimulating her clit, driving her closer and closer to the edge of climax.

He pulled away and she almost kicked him.

He licked his lips, grinning evilly. “Not so fun being on the receiving end, is it?”

Luckily for him, he replaced his tongue with his cock almost immediately, thrusting slow and hard.

~~~

Steph wrapped her legs around his waist, moving her hips to meet his. 

“You looked hot as sin tonight, Steph,” he panted in her ear, kissing down her jawline.

In retaliation, she licked up his neck like she’d wanted to do earlier, simultaneously tightening around him and causing him to groan, low and deep. “You really want to be done soon, don’t you?”

“I’d take it as a compliment, hot stuff.”

He moved faster, taking her challenge.

In retaliation, she tightened around him again.

He watched for the flush in her cheeks to spread down her chest, her breathing to quicken, and her legs to loosen around him before his final harshest thrusts.

She came with a cry of his name, her mouth dropping open and her muscles quivering, setting off his own orgasm.

Jason made sure to collapse beside her, not on her, reaching up to loosen the loops in the rope and free Steph’s hands. 

He kissed her swollen lips gently, pulling away only to softly reclaim them.

She curled closer, sliding her arms around his chest to gently run her nails up and down his back and comb through his messed-up hair.

"You're so warm," she murmured.

He kissed the top of her head her forehead, the tip of her nose. "Just for you."

~~~

Jason woke when Steph slipped put of bed, but decided to stay put for now.

He faintly heard the sounds of her showering, then drifted off again to the clangs from the kitchen as she rummaged through his cupboards for some breakfast.

He woke for a second time when he heard the door open and then shut, as if Steph was trying to sneak out.

She'd never done that before, so he immediately jumped out of bed, pulled his discarded pants on, and headed after her.

He jerked the door open and paused at the sight of Steph and Bruce at the foot of the stairs.

They didn't appear to notice him yet, so he quietly pulled the door shut and snuck closer, using the first stairs to hide.

"...here?" Said Bruce.

"None of your business," Steph crossed her arms over the shirt she was wearing–a Gotham Knights tee from his closet– and raised her chin. Between her wearing a shirt two sizes too big, her wild hair, and the marks visible on her neck and chest, he was pretty sure the so-called World's Greatest Detective could make a guess as to Steph’s reason for being outside his apartment. "Why are you here?"

"I was making sure you both were safe after the party last night."

"Oh, so now you're stalking us?"

Bruce grunted. "You two have been partnered on missions often this past while. It was unusual."

"Oh for goodness' sake, B, just come out and say you've lost whatever trust you had for me, and that you still don't trust your own son !" 

"This is not about trust, Stephanie, it's about making sure you're both still safe and not compromised."

Jason could practically hear Steph roll her eyes.

"That is trust, Bruce. Trust us to tell you if we're unsafe or in trouble. We have enough contingencies for if we're compromised in any way. Our only interactions are with you for our night shifts; you have no right and no need to snoop around our life if we don't share things with you. If we're a team, you have to trust us to do our part in informing you if anything inconveniences our job. We have to trust you to do your part, which is to trust us, and to have some work-life balance! Maybe if you actually trusted us and let us work as a functioning, non-codependent team, it would work and your protégés wouldn't die."

Steph's finger was jabbed firmly into a Bruce's designer suit at the end of her rant.

"Now, if you absolutely must know, I'm in love with your son and what we do outside of our working hours is none of your business. The mission last night went smoothly and there is nothing to report. Everything is under control. Go get your overpriced black coffee and maybe use that to down a chill pill while you're at it."

Steph turned and stomped back up the stairs, just missing Jason duck back inside his apartment.

He looked up from the kitchen counter where he was whisking eggs, pretending to be surprised to see her.

"Oh, you're back."

Steph huffed and leaned against the counter, watching him pour the eggs into a pan.

"Bruce knows something is up with us, and he found out about this apartment somehow."

Jason added some sliced sausages to the eggs.

"Okay."

She stared at him in confusion. "That's all?"

"I'm planning on visiting him later. We can hash it out then."

He flipped the omelet and poured two glasses of milk, sliding one over for Steph and taking a sip of the other.

"Did you sleep well?"

"Of course. You?"

"Yup."

Steph sipped her milk in silence, watching him cook.

He slid a plate with toast, omelet, and fruit over to her. "Bon appetit."

~~~

Jason knocked on the open door as he strolled into Bruce's office in Wayne Manor, dropping into the chair in front of his giant desk.

Compensating for something, Bruce?

"You and Stephanie?" Bruce asked.

"Steph and me."

Bruce looked him over consideringly. 

There was a long silence, finally broken by Bruce's sigh. "I hope neither of you get hurt."

Jason blinked. Was that a hint of caring?

He stood and headed for the door, pausing in the doorway.

"How'd you find the apartment?"

Bruce looked up. "Cass saw your car returning from the party last night when she was on patrol." He hesitated, then added, "She said you both looked happy and told me she'd followed you to the apartment. I wanted to see for myself, so I came by this morning and met Steph in the stairwell. She told me to trust you both more and that she loves you."

"I'm aware. Thanks, B."

~~~

"How'd it go?" Steph paused Gilmore Girls when Jason came home.

"He told me Cass saw us and said we looked happy, so he came to see for himself. He also told me the gist of what you lectured him on this morning."

"Oh?"

"He didn't need to, 'cause I heard it all myself."

" Oh ?"

Her voice was a bit higher now.

He crossed the floor and crouched in front of her, wrapping the discarded lasso of truth around her wrists and taking her hands in his.

"When did you fall in love with me?"

"The night I had that nightmare about Black Mask and came over, and I called you on my way and you immediately dropped your patrol to come comfort me. When I got here and waited for you, and the lock let me in. That was the moment I knew I was in love with you, but I'd been falling since before we slept together the first time. Probably since you got me Pentabux on our second patrol together." She sniffed and brought her hands up to wipe the tear spilling from her eyes, but Jason beat her to it, cupping her cheek in his hand and wiping the tear away with his thumb.

He unwrapped the rope and looped it around his wrists, yanking it with his teeth and placing his hand in hers. "Ask me."

She took a deep breath and sniffed again.

"Do you love me?"

He met her hopeful gaze steadily. "I love you, Stephanie Brown."

"When did you fall in love with me?" She gritted, biting her tongue to stall a new batch of tears.

"When I saw you comforting Damian in Batcow's stall last year; October 21st. But like you, I'd been falling for months before that. That was just the moment I knew I'd love you until the day I die."

His eyes were getting a little moist too, and Steph yanked the rope off his wrists and pulled his face to hers, mixing their tears as they kissed.

He lifted her into his arms, her legs instinctually wrapping around him as they moved down the hallway to his room. 

~~~

She barely felt her back hit the bed, consumed by his kisses and heat between them.

He peeled her shirt over her head, pushing her back against the mattress and leaning down to trail kisses down her neck.

Her nails hooked under his shirt and she yanked on it till he took it off. His nimble fingers headed for her bra; next, her underwear and sweats were jerked off in one fell swoop, then his followed.

He kissed his way up her legs, sending trails of heat rushing through her veins to pool at her centre.

Steph tugged at his hair till he came up to press his soft lips to hers, to work his way back down her body.

He nipped at a hickey from the night before, pressing his thigh between hers for her to grind against as his calloused fingers tugged at her nipples.

He bit her pulse point gently before moving up to her mouth, claiming it with his. "I love you, Steph."

"I love you," she gasped, feeling her climax building rapidly as she rode his thigh, still sensitive from the previous night. "I love you I love you I love you- Jason!"

He would never get tired of that view, Steph flushed and panting, relaxed and satisfied and looking at him with eyes full of so much love .

He pushed in slowly, closing his eyes at the feeling of her tight, welcoming heat. He moved slowly, lightly, pressing kisses to her face and neck.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, keeping him close enough to her that he could hear her heart beating in time with his.

He slid his hand down her curves to her clit, rubbing steadily until she reached her peak, where he followed immediately after.

“I love you.”

“I love you too. So much.” She traced the lines of his face with her index finger, her touch feather-light.

“Bruce said he hoped neither of us got hurt. I think he might like you a bit more than you think.”

Steph wiggled up to be eye-to-eye to him on the pillow. “Really?”

“Yep. That’s all he said. I expected a bit more threatening or maybe a reminder of both of our screw-ups, but I think maybe what you said to him earlier got to him. I’m proud of you for standing up to him and maybe even knocking a bit of sense into him,” he squeezed his arms tighter around her.

“Thank you,” she said quietly, hooking her leg over his and sighing contentedly. “Let’s just stay like this for a bit.”

“Sounds good to me,” Jason agreed, closing his eyes and breathing in the smell of her lime shampoo. 

Soon the only noise heard through the apartment were two soft, rhythmic snores.

~~~~~FIN~~~~~

Curious about or a fan of JaySteph? Come join our 18+ JaySteph Discord Server! @jaysteph-server

[margindoodles2407]

Posting Snippets of AUs I never Wrote pt 3: Not an AU and Not Unfinished Edition!

In which a certain princess regrets, deeply, banishing the love of her life to another timeline. (please note that i wrote this a while back and it doesn't line up with all my current headcanons but i'm still very proud of it)

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I didn’t mean to ruin your life.

All I wanted was for you to be happy, I promise. I thought maybe if that meant ripping you away from everything you’d fought so hard to protect, then… sacrifices would have to be made.

What a fool I was.

I should have listened to you. You’d begged me not to push you away, to let you live a life in the new, peaceful world you’d restored. To rebuild it with me, together. But I didn’t listen.

Perhaps I didn’t want to listen. Perhaps I was afraid. Of what, I’m still uncertain. Of commitment? Of love? Of— you? I don’t know. 

So I sent you back to your “original’’ timeline, and you lost your heroic title. You needed no more help, so you lost your best friend. You felt the pain of a world that wasn’t your own, over and over again, and lost your innocence, too. When you came back, all grown up, you joined the army, and in your first battle, you lost your eye. You did eventually marry that timeline’s version of myself, but though you loved her, you’d already lost me– who you loved more.

You’d been married for barely more than a week when you lost your life.

Even then, you lost Paradise, forced to wander the forests as a ghost until you could find someone to pass your vast knowledge onto. You just wanted to be remembered…

And I ripped that chance away.

If you were here, you’d ask me what happened in my life. You’d probably scoff at me; you’d bitterly remark on what a fantastic life I must have led, all by myself, in the halls of a shiny new peaceful Hyrule. 

If it makes you feel any better, I didn’t.

Yes, I was the queen. I led my people through a golden age of peace and prosperity, the likes of which Hyrule had never seen and will likely never see again. They adored me, and I, in turn, tried to be a fair and compassionate monarch to them.

But I never loved again. Who could I love? I had no one left. My parents were dead. I had no siblings, and by extent no nieces or nephews. Impa, my dearest nursemaid, now existed on a different plane entirely, called away by her duties as Sage of Shadow. The closest thing I had to a friend was my lady-in-waiting, Elode. My court was distant from me. 

And with you gone, I never married. In consequence, I never had children. When my copper hair turned tarnished silver and I felt my time draw near, I passed the royal title– and the power of the goddess– onto Elode and her children. My life was nothing compared to the misery and pain of yours, but I can’t fool myself– or you– into thinking that I was happy.

And when I was gone, things weren’t much better. Not but a half-century after my death, Ganondorf escaped his prison and the Golden Ones flooded the land.

All because there was no hero.

All because you were gone.

All because of me.

My love— because, yes, I truly did love you, though my actions hardly betrayed it— when we meet again, I know you will be angry. I will not ask you not to be. Nor will I ask for forgiveness, for I hardly deserve it. When we meet again, all I ask is that you know my pain. I ask that you know that I never forgave myself. I ask that you are aware of my lifetime of suffering, as inconsequential as it may be compared to yours. 

And I ask, not you but the gods, for you to finally find peace.

To be happy.

Because happiness was something I could never give you.

[themoonhater]

“Tell your baby that I’m your baby”

Mom never loved me, never gave me the motherly love mothers give to their children, in her case “her child”. She only had me or at least that’s what I thought. Before I was born there were five girls, none were hers but they did have a blood connection since they were her nieces. “Mom” always told me stories of their childhood, not mine ever, my childhood was filled with sorrow and woes, and she doesn’t want to remember any of those because in her story I’m the villain who took away her happiness. She loved them dearly, even now that they’re all older and have gotten on with their lives and don’t care about her, she looks at them lovingly like how one looks at the field of strawberries they have grown, but she hardly looked at me. “Mom” is forever proud of them, even though they never went to college, never learned another language, never learned how to play the piano but I did, I did for her, All I wanted was to see the bright and shiny smile she flashes whenever she sees her “Girls”. I still look at her, waiting like a good dog, and wag my tail for her to notice me, I put my paw in her hand if she asks for it and return with a dismembered one. That’s how “Mom”’s love was towards me, I gave her my bane of existence but left like a soldier from the Trojan War.

Now that I’m older, now that I see her love is different from other mothers and the love she gives others I ask myself “What did you do? What did you do to make you so unlovable that not even your mother loves you” but I swear, I swear on her life because there’s nothing more important than hers in mine I didn’t do anything wrong, what could a child possibly do to make her mother hate her. I even went running back to her after she sent me to school in first grade with bloody lips and a bruised face because that’s my mother, right? She loves me. But who beats down their innocent child like it’s just limp meat all because they didn’t like their kid’s handwriting? I remember being young and full of life - unlike now - watching all the girls playing with their mothers but all I got was getting yelled out for demanding attention.

Sometimes I think that “Mom” was out of love, I mean let’s be real here, she had five girls to love dearly of course at some point in her life she would run out of love to give but oh, how wrong I was because girls came and go, new nieces and such but no, that was not the end of it, she went out of her way to give her love to my friends, newest additions to her “Girls”.

Years have passed and I’m still not her baby. “Mom” still takes away the food from my plate and gives it to her “Girls” while I watch, starving but will do anything to make her smile. “Mom” still belittles me and hugs her “Girls” because they deserve love and I don’t. “Mom” still calls me names for being disobedient but praises her “Girls”. “Mom” never loved me and never will.

A little side note: It’s my first time writing something like this in English, I used to be a great writer back in middle school and high school, won a few local awards but ever since I started college I have been a stranger with my pen. Hopefully my writing is not that awful because it has been one of passions for years now and I’m so happy to picking it up again. I wish to improve it but for now this is all I can offer.

Also my deep apologies if you relate to this. This was inspired by “I bet on losing dogs” by Mitski. There’s this trend going on, on tik tok that made me want to share my story but I promise that I have more fun and happy stories to tell so please stay tuned lol. (btw im new to tumblr dunno if u can tell)

[justaduckarts]

Broken Circle

Star Holder Lore? Star Holder Lore. :)

Spoilers (ish)

The ballroom was alive with the sounds of laughter. Twinkling lights bounced off of the shiny marble floor. Flowing gowns and fine silks spun and swayed. Like a brilliant field of flowers. 

Among all of the livelihood, Eclipse. He was surrounded by lesser gods, all merrily wishing him a happy birthday. 

“Look how much you’ve grown,” an old golden bear remarked, “strong, just like your mother. You’re going to be a great leader.” 

“Oh, that’s too kind,” Eclipse laughed, “but I won’t be leading all alone. I’ll always have my brother with me.” Eclipse gestured to his brother, standing some distance away. 

Sun stood at his father’s side, hands tucked behind him. It was strange; it felt like it was only yesterday Eclipse was half his size, and following at Sun’s heels. Sun was, of course, very proud of how Eclipse had flourished. But...

The slow tap of his father’s foot told him that things were not as pleasant as he thought. Sun glanced up into the frowning face of his father. 

“Come along, Sun,” Solaris said quietly. Sun nodded. He followed the radiant god out of the room. 

Eclipse watched the two go. His smile fell. Yet again, their father was taking Sun off for a private conversation. It had been like that for a long time, but the older he got the more it bothered Eclipse. Just what were they speaking about? Why wasn’t Eclipse’s father close with him as well? Why didn’t his father ever seem to be proud of how hard Eclipse had worked? 

“Darling,” came that ever soothing voice. Eclipse turned. Indeed, crossing the floor in flowing black silks was his mother. A picture of strength and beauty. At her side, Luna, the moon goddess. The two had always been quite close. 

“Mother,” Eclipse brightened, “and your grace.” He nodded to Luna. As the goddess of darkness came strolling up, the lesser gods around Eclipse quickly dispersed to give them a chance to talk. 

“Oh, just Luna,” she laughed, “I used to help you tie your boots, dear. There’s no need for the formal title.” 

“Happy birthday, my son,” his mother said, wrapping all four arms around him. “Oh, you’ve gotten so tall! I remember when I used to carry you everywhere.” Eclipse laughed. 

“Mother, please,” he returned her hug, embarrassed by the two goddess’ reminiscing. Eclipse’s mother couldn’t help but notice that he only appeared to have two arms. She decided not to ask why he’d chosen to hide his extra arms- she suspected she knew. 

“We’ll stop teasing you,” Luna laughed again, “I ought to find Pluto and Moon. They’ve got a terrible habit of hiding away the whole night. Happy birthday, Eclipse. We’re very proud of you.” Luna gingerly patted Eclipse’s shoulder before passing him by. 

“Darling,” Eclipse’s mother said gently, “you’re troubled. I could see it from across the room. Do you want to talk about it?” 

“I’m fine,” Eclipse shook his head. 

“Do not tell your mother lies,” she said warningly. Eclipse shifted. 

“...Is father displeased with me?” Eclipse fidgeted with the brooch on his tunic. One his mother had gifted to him. She softened, taking up his hands. 

“My son,” she sighed, “your father... is in a difficult position.” She shook her head. “No. No, I shouldn’t make excuses for him. The way he treats you infuriates me. You are every bit as good as Sun. And I couldn’t be prouder of you.” 

“I know, mother,” Eclipse nodded, “I... just wish he saw it that way.” Eclipse’s mother squeezed his hands. 

“He will. We will make him see, my darling.” She did her best to keep the wind at bay. Oh, that horrible sun god. How could he be so cruel to their son?

Heavy wooden doors opened. Solaris strolled into a dark room. With a wave of his hand, the lanterns around the room sparked to life. The open display of fire magic made Sun shift, looking at his boots. Yet another thing he’d failed at. 

“This room is forbidden,” Solaris said quietly, “to everyone but you and myself. Not even the palace staff come to clean... So it’s a bit dusty.” 

Curious, Sun took the time to really look around the room now. I looked to be some sort of meeting room. Though, the last time it had been used, there must have been some sort of struggle. 

At the center of the room stood a round stone table, and around it toppled chairs. There was a fireplace at the far end of the room with a large, dusty mirror mounted above it. Tapestries depicting the crests of the different gods were hung on the walls, though several were burned so badly you couldn’t tell whose they once were. Books had been thrown about and shelves toppled. Papers scattered all about. 

“What happened here?” Sun stepped further into the room, milky eyes wide. 

“So much time has passed,” Solaris said, “no one knows the exact details anymore. It happened well before my time, that much I know. My father showed me this room. And his father showed him. It’s an important milestone for the sun god; learning that there are terrible secrets you must keep.” Solaris strolled over to the stone table. Sun followed. 

Up close, Sun could see that the table had a star carved into the top. And also that the table had been broken- so badly that one point of the star was entirely gone. Which was quite the feat, give how sturdy the stone table looked. 

“There’s a part of the Myth of Origin that is not told anymore,” Solaris ran a finger over the smooth edge of the table. He frowned at the dust on his finger tip. 

“You are taught that the first gods made things worse for this world before they were brought back to the heavens and blessed by their familiars. But you are never taught how they made things worse.” Solaris slowly strolled around the whole table. He came to a stop, facing Sun across the table. 

Sun stood just before the broken part of the table, looking between it and his father nervously. 

“You see,” Solaris gestured to the hanging tapestries, “some of the gods thought they should be the one to lead the people... and only them. It was an arrogant belief, and it sparked tensions. There was a horrible war and many mortals were caught in the cross fire. That is why the Star Mother called them back to the heavens. They’d caused terrible suffering.” 

“Oh,” Sun put a hand to his mouth, horrified. 

“It was long ago,” Solaris shrugged, “and I believe we have talked about looking so troubled.” Sun immediately straightened, hands folding behind his back. Yes, they had talked about looking troubled. 

Solaris had been very firm that Sun should always look composed and confident. It would show that he was a strong leader. And it would make his enemies believe he was not weak. Not that Sun had any enemies to worry about. 

“Where was I?” Solaris rubbed his chin. “Right. The war. So, the Star Mother brought her children back to the heavens, and she created the familiars to aid them. I believe you’ll finally be choosing your familiar this year. But that aside.”

“The Star Mother also wanted her children to learn to work together,” Solaris placed a hand on the dusty stone table, “so she created this table for them to work at. She told them that so long as their bonds were strong, this table would be. She told them to sit at this table and know each other. Grow together. Become brothers.” 

“And it was so,” Solaris looked at Sun, expression darkening, “for a time.” Sun swallowed, attempting to look less nervous than he felt. His father’s lectures could be... kind of intense. 

“What... What happened?” Sun shifted nervously. 

“One of the gods- and we do not know which anymore- betrayed the others. They decided they did not want to share power. They wanted to be the lone god.” Solaris gestured to the broken part of the table. “And the other gods were forced to stop them.” 

“Oh...” Sun looked at the shattered part of the table. 

“I tell you all of this because I am concerned about your brother,” Solaris continued, “he’s already stolen the gift of fire from you. And he’s become quite popular in recent days. You are my heir, undoubtedly. But I can’t help but fear Eclipse has grown to covet even more of what you are entitled to...” Solaris turned and began to pace. “These first gods were brothers. And yet, one still betrayed the others, motivated by their greed.”

“He wouldn’t,” Sun shook his head, “...Right?” 

“Wouldn’t he?” Solaris turned to Sun. “He’s stronger than you. If he wanted something, he’d only need to take it.” 

“But we’re supposed to rule-

“Together? Perhaps, but the others will begin to look for guidance. Moon is wise and Pluto is loyal, but they will look for your leadership. Unless Eclipse manages to overshadow you. And then they will turn to him. And you will be left alone in the dark.” 

“No,” Sun shook his head. “Eclipse and I are brothers- 

“That means little in the grand scheme of things,” Solaris shrugged, “love is temporary. I know better than most.” Solaris’ expression hardened. Embers sparked at his finger tips. 

“I thought you and mother were happy,” Sun said quietly, shocked. 

“We were once,” Solaris shook his head, “but now it is not so. I do not trust her. I do not trust her son.” 

“But he’s never done anything wrong,” Sun insisted, “he’s a kind person- 

“Ah, how kind of him to steal the gift of fire from you,” Solaris marched around the table and towards his anxious son. “How kind of him to steal your place among your friends. To steal the admiration of lesser gods from you.” 

Solaris grasped Sun’s shoulders, expression stern. “He will slowly claw his way into every aspect of your life, Sun. And he will leave you behind to rot.” Sun shook under his father’s blazing gaze. 

“...Go back to the party,” Solaris released Sun, “and stop trembling. It makes you look pathetic.” Sun rushed around his father and out of the horrible old room. 

As he jogged down the palace halls, he wiped frantically at his teary eyes. That couldn’t be true, could it? Could Eclipse be planning to betray him?