#I'm fully aware that I have to go to school with this tomorrow

[mishalikessoundsandcolours]

It's queer-magick-space-age-and-looking-for-ufos-summer and I was feeling silly, so I stuck some temporary tattoos on my face and doodled stars and dots and stuff on my cheeks (my friend also added some). Also, full Misha face reveal I guess.

And here's two other silly temporary tatoos:

[astralis-ortus]

it feels impossible (it's not impossible)

✱ bestfriend!bc × gn!reader

— 'cause you are the one i was meant to find.

w.count → 2k genre → romcom, fluff warnings → minor cussing (as per usual, heh), chan refered to as chris a.n → i'm usually not the type to write this long simply because i'm easily distracted and have the tendency to abandon projects, but hey! this one prevails :] hopefully next time i can write even longer fics<3 ⋆ see masterlist

honestly, you thought you were going crazy when the same melody restarted on chris’ speaker for the nth time today. it’s not that the song is bad—you do actually love ‘rewrite the stars’. you’re a fan of the movie, much like chris is, but putting the song on loop? for hours a day? for weeks? your sense of fanship isn’t that strong, especially when the song’s been out in circulation for years now.

“you wanna hear a theory?”

your question easily turns chris’ focus away from the endless papers he had to grade by the end of the day and towards you, raising an eyebrow to the sudden break of silence. his eyes visibly twinkled, contemplating if he should entertain the idea of putting on his regular-26-year-old suit over the professional-high-school-teacher ones he’d been in for the past couple hours or so.

well, to be fair, chris hasn't even been focusing on the pages of essays he needed to check. not when his mind has been preoccupied with something—someone­—else.

“shoot,” he eventually replied with a lopsided smile etched on his lips—head cocked to the side when he finally decided to shut the screen of his decorated silver laptop, offering you his entire attention. “it better be funny or entertaining, considering i’m risking losing my hearing to my kids’ complaints for not returning their papers on time tomorrow.”

“oooh, pressure,” you mocked, a wide grin appearing on your face while you try to ignore the rush of tingles under your skin when you noticed the way chris referred to his students as ‘my kids’—something he’d always done and so do you, but somehow had a different effect on you as of recent. “believe me, it’s something fun,” you hummed with a shrug, mirroring chris as you set your laptop aside.

chris’ pair of charming dimples came into view upon your confident reply, fully immersed in the stage you’re setting up. fabric of his gray couch, one where you two had been slowly melting into for a few hours now, gently rustled when chris fixed his posture, less from lazing around and more into focusing on you and whatever nonsense he believed you were going to say. the glint in his eyes grew brighter by the second, both from anticipation and excitement.

“tell me.”

it felt like spring—when the flowers were in bloom, the breeze was blowing ever-so-gently against your warm cheeks, and the swarm of butterflies were surrounding you with its pairs of fluttering wings.

chris made you feel like spring.

“gee, tone down the excitement, mr. bahng,” you inadvertently shifted away, silently praying to whatever force ruling the universe that chris wasn’t aware of the way your heartbeat spiked to his playful grin. “don’t want to disappoint you there.”

”as if you could ever,” chris promptly refuted with a chuckle, chin resting on the palm of his hand. the way his playful gaze was directed right at you, framed by those loose curls of his, proved to cause your heart more problems than ease. “the ever-so-perfect you? a disappointment? really?”

”oh shut up,” you groaned, half wanting to wipe the cocky smirk off his face—or…?

”but then—if you say so, do tell me,” frown on your forehead instantly dissipates, replaced by a mirror of his lopsided grin when you figured you could turn the bullet right back at its owner,

“am i perfectly on point when i say you’re in love?”

despite the slight pang on your heart, you couldn’t help but giggle at the way his face fades into surprise, a shade of blush slowly creeping on the top of his cheekbones.

the topic of love was never really something you discussed with chris. sure, you two met each other in college where hormones were bursting through the roof, but neither you or chris was interested in dating anyone—you with your slowly budding crush on chris, and chris with… god-knows-what he’s interested in. you never pried, for the sake of not making things awkward. that's your norm, and how you’ve spent your last 7 years with chris.

you and chris remained friends, which at some point evolved into best friends (you now, by the hey-i’m-bored-at-2am-let’s-hang kind of standard), and somehow, you two happened to land a teaching job within the same district around the same time. chris went to teach a reputable high school in the area, while you pursue your dream of teaching kids. you hang out at each other’s place every other day, despite the time you spent together consists mostly of being nose-deep in your respective workload.

the topic of love still was something foreign—you wouldn’t deliberately bring it up other than around the occasions when wedding invites stopped by yours or chris’ doorstep.

maybe, it’s time to change that.

”…huh?”

chris is thoroughly perplexed.

”oh come on, don’t even try to lie,” with a smile decorated with victory, you finally teased the man across. “it’s all written on your face, you know,” you continued, fingers gesturing to your own, “but also, your choice of song. god, do you even listen to anything else when you're in love?”

“but i'm not!” he yelped, facepalming himself upon realizing the shift in his tone is a dead giveaway of his true voice. “god—no. i'm not,” he added meekly, shaking his head, “you know i love the song. that's all.”

”fair enough,” acknowledging his plea, you briefly nod, “but that doesn’t justify the way you’ve been keeping the song on repeat! and don’t you think i don’t remember the few other occurrences when you did the same, because i knew for a fact that something happened every time you became distant after going through this rewrite the stars cycle!”

if his face were flushed before, then you’d categorize this new shade apparent on the tip of his ear as a what-the-fuck-i’m-screwed kind of blush and frankly, seeing this new side of him kind of made you regret not bringing the topic up sooner.

”you remembered?” his voice sounded more of a squeak rather than a proper question, still hiding behind the safety of his palms. “no you don’t! that was ages ago!”

”so things did happen!” your grin turned into a laugh, drowning chris’ groan and series of disapproving no when he realized he just bit into your colorful, glimmering bait. “gosh—why didn’t you tell me you were dating someone? i was kinda hurt whenever that happened you know,” you purse your lips dramatically, “i lost a friend to talk to and never exactly know the reason why until today.”

“oh,” chris blinked, finally looking right at you with a puzzled gaze, “you… were? i mean—i’m sorry i hurt you. for the record, i wasn’t dating anyone. i just kinda assumed, you know, since you were dating someone else anyway i thought—“

”hold up—“ both statements rolling off of chris’ lips inadvertently made you hold up a hand, stopping the latter on his tracks. ”what?”

now both of you are puzzled.

you? dating someone?

”i just wanted to give you space,” chris reiterated, hand now awkwardly resting on his equally red nape, “figured you’d want that since me being around will likely bring trouble for you and the person you were dating.”

”but… i haven’t dated anyone since we became friends?”

you’re thoroughly confused.

”wait, what?” chris shook his head in disbelief, “what do you mean you haven’t dated anyone? what about the notes? and the flowers? and the chocolates too! what do you—what do you mean?”

nevermind, now you’re thoroughly confused.

”the ones from back in college?” your memories were not exactly as clear as you expected it to be, but you do remember receiving those gifts a few times due to its absurdity. “that was all from the rich ass kid i tutored! the one who i told you kept teasing me about never receiving any valentine's day gift? that kid? they sent me those gifts as a prank!”

“…what?”

the amount of ‘what’ you two have said in the past few exchanges is ridiculous.

”god—you thought i’ve been dating and never told you?” you finally pieced the puzzle together, incredulous. “and that’s why you distanced yourself? dude, are you serious?”

”well i just assumed!” chris raised his hands in defense, equally as incredulous as you are, “to be fair, those are usually gifts you get for someone you like! how am i supposed to know it’s from the kid you tutored? you never tried to told me!”

”you could’ve asked?” you stated, as-a-matter-of-factly. sometimes, despite that brilliant brain of his, chris could be quite the foolish one between the two of you. “besides, i thought you knew! you literally read the cards!”

”wha—how do you expect me to digest any of that when i was under the assumption someone i like is dating someone else!”

silence befalls chris’ usually cozy living room, leaving the soft resounding melody that hadn’t stopped as the only sound filling up the space. you’re not even sure if your ears were actually catching the right words falling from his lips; it felt too much like a fever dream. judging from the way his eyes turned wide, however,

you might have heard him correctly.

”you… like me?”

you never imagined you’d piece those words together, much less directing them towards chris. hell, even by remaining as friends was enough for you—having him to yourself was not something you thought would ever happen in this lifetime. you’re happy as you were; you’re content with being friends.

chris, on the other hand, is still visibly trying to digest the events that just unfolded around him. from the misunderstanding to unintentionally confessing his feelings, this was not how he expected his Sunday evening to be. all he wanted to do was be near the one person he’d been secretly nurturing his feelings for, praying that maybe one day he’d finally muster up the courage before everything was too late—but this was not how he expected things to turn out.

”i’m sorry,” he finally croaked, breaking the suffocating silence whilst also being too embarrassed to even look you in the eye, “i know it’s weird—from the misunderstanding to, you know, what i said. i never intended for you to find out about it this way. i understand that you don’t feel the same way, it’s okay, you—“

”oh shut up,” you capped his ramblings short, catching chris off guard. it’s not often you cut him off when he speak, so when you do, he knew you meant it.

“just, what?” you sighed, fingers begin massaging the throb on your temple. it’s hard to decipher what you’re currently feeling as a whole, but one thing you know for sure— you’re especially bothered by his last statement.

“chris, how would you even know what i feel if you’ve never even asked me?”

you watched through his pair of curious eyes as thoughts ran inside his mind, slowly deciphering what you meant with the sudden calmness in your voice.

“uh,” finally managing the train of assumptions in his head, chris then looked at you—only now, with a glimmer of hope reflected in his eyes, “do you... like me? like, more than just friends?”

and to that, you finally nodded.

“yeah, you dumbass. for the longest time.”

watching the way chris’ smile bloom easily turned you into another smiling mess—not missing the giggles nor the flush on your cheeks and all. It feels dumb, realizing that you’ve been into each other for forever but never realizing it because of some stupid misunderstanding.

“and i like you too,” chris reiterated, his goofy smile erasing any trace of worry that was present on his face just a second ago. honest to god—you thought you were falling in love all over again for chris.

“in that case...” he shrugged before outstretching a hand, trying his best to play things cool despite the growing excitement in his eyes,

“will you officially be my partner in crime?”

sound of your laugh only fuels the warmth spreading within chris’ heart—and it felt like the way he spent all those countless nights, wishing that one day the stars would eventually align for him finally paid off as you held his hand in yours, smiling brighter than any stars ever discovered.

“gladly.”

©️ astralisortus, 2024. | likes and reblogs are highly appreciated♡

[kit-chat]

Pokémon Mystery Dungeon: Chasing Storms

Collab with @billycorn

Whisked away to a world where only Pokémon existed and humans are believed to be only myths, Katherine, a human-turned-Eevee is forced to live as a Pokémon among them, unaware of her purpose. New friends, daunting challenges, and adventures come by, and Katherine is determined to protect the new life she has grown to love dearly. She still has many questions left unresolved at her second chance in life, but the inner child in her only wants one to be answered...

A pmd fic about found family- littered with comedy and angst

Chapter 1: An Unfamiliar Place

Summary: A Charmander finds a seemingly mentally deranged Eevee in the woods...

The Charmander grasped his fingers around the strap of his wicker basket. He hoisted it up to his back, sliding his head in the loop, and adjusted the strap to his left shoulder. He opened the door before grabbing a flute on his way out, placing it in a small pocket of his basket and adjusting the green scarf around his neck.

As he stepped outside into the forest basked by the orange hue of the afternoon sun, he made his way across the thick greenery, searching for berries and maybe even a few apples. He couldn't stay in the same place for too long, unfortunately, as wild predatory Pokémon might catch on to his habits to plan an attack.

His ears aren't as good compared to some mammalian Pokémon, but they were enough to hear any suspicious sounds of a predatory feral lurking nearby. Until now he didn't sense any sign of danger, which was great; he was in a bit of a hurry. The forest still smelled fresh and lush after all those years of living nearby, and he's already familiar with the scents and sounds that come in it.

After what seemed like an hour, the corners of his mouth upturned to reveal a soft smile as he found an oran berry bush, just right next to a small copse. He grabbed one, pulling it off the stalk to check if it was ripe enough. He tossed it over to his back and into the basket it went. He was about to pick more when he noticed a tuft of fur just inside an ordinary bush next to the oran one.

“What the…” His voice trailed off as he tried to pull it out of the bush.

"Ow!”

The loud shriek sent the Charmander back away immediately. His ears were still ringing when the mysterious Pokémon finally revealed itself, looking weary as if it just woke up from a long nap. It flicked its large ears and shook the dust from its brown pelt, letting out a large yawn as it blinked to adjust its eyes to its surroundings. It was a fully-grown Eevee. He stared in silence, mouth agape, as the strange Eevee looked down at its paws.  

“Man… I must be dreaming.” The Eevee spoke as she rubbed her eyes. "I still have to go back to school tomorrow… but I don't wanna-”

She glanced down at her paws again. 

“Wait… these aren't my hands-” The Eevee, who didn't seem to notice the Charmander, started frantically checking herself. 

“HOLY FRIGGIN’ ARCEUS!”

The Eevee screamed and anxiously started to go around in circles. “I'm… I'm an Eevee now, I'm in the woods, and I'm not in my apartment. That means…” 

She paused, the mixed emotions on her face suddenly morphing into joy.

“I don't have to take the exam anymore!” The Eevee laughed hard and leaped victoriously into the air. "Take that, school!” 

Instantaneously, she became aware of her surroundings and looked at the Charmander in front of her.

"Oh, I didn't see you there. Hi…?" 

“...Hi." The Charmander replied skeptically as he slowly edged away from the weird girl he had just seen. “You’re… not from here I suppose?”

“No. Can I ask what place are we-”

"We're in the middle of Apple Woods. Now excuse me, you're alright now I guess, so I'll be on my way.”

He was about to leave but the weird Eevee girl stopped him in his tracks.

“Wait!" 

His brows furrowed. 

"What is it now?” The Charmander asked as he adjusted the strap of his basket. "If you're a wild Pokémon trying to lure me into your trap, I can guarantee you, I won't be fooled.”

“I'm not a wild Pokémon!" The weird Eevee girl protested. "Tell me, were you involved in bringing me here? Are you the one who somehow just turned me into a Pokémon?”

"What? I have no idea what you're talking about. I can tell that you were an Eevee for a long time.”

“No, I'm not. I was a human." 

Charmander just stared at her. His face scrunched up, his nose twitched, and he just lost it.

“Pffft….” He tried to hold it in, but he couldn't at the absurdity of the situation. “HAHAHAHAHAHA!" 

Eevee’s ears shrunk back in embarrassment. Maybe she shouldn't have done that.

“Okay… that was a good joke. You had me with that one. Are you a comedian doing undercover or something?" 

“Am not!” Eevee objected, still embarrassed. “Well, maybe you weren't one of the guys who brought me here, but I am a human!" 

“All right, that got old pretty fast." Charmander sighed and lowered his head to look her in the eye. "Listen, crazy human Eevee or whatever, your acting is quite convincing, but there's no way I'm going to believe some unintelligible baloney about a human somehow turning into an Eevee.”

Eevee felt like a Decidueye's arrow just pierced her chest. In this world, maybe nobody is gonna believe her.

“Anyways, I'm heading home now. See ya, crazy human Eevee or…. whatever.”

But I was a human…

She's all alone again. No human nor Pokémon in sight, just her and the woods. Wiping a tear from her cheek, she turned to pluck a berry from the bush beside her. Food always made her feel better.

She snacked on the berry until her paws got sticky. Food at this time didn't make her feel better, at all. With an annoyed huff, she set out to rub her paws on a patch of grass. They didn't do much, but she had enough anyway. She wandered off on her own, looking at whatever tree she passed by. 

If she was lucky enough to find a hollow one, she'd get some free shelter all to herself. Maybe even get close to bodies of water to get a drink. The forest is eerily quiet, but the afternoon light gave her a speck of courage to continue wandering around. She felt like she was walking for hours, but she didn't give up. 

What was it that the Charmander said again? Wild Pokémon? Thinking of that made her shiver. Eevee sat down for a while to catch her breath, losing hope in her new, sad life.

Perhaps college exams were better than this after all… 

She also tried standing up on her hind legs earlier before, but she had to stop, fearing her spine would give out. No use doing that as a quadruped cat-dog-fox thing, that was stupid of her to do so.

Eevee heaved a sigh. Her ears drooped low against her head, but she was too exhausted to care. Her claws kept getting in the way of her walking, unsheathing without her will to do so. Even with the hours that passed by, she still wasn't used to her new body yet. 

“I thought living alone was easy, but… out here?” She shook her head and her ears flopped along. She could not do it herself. Even in a new world, she's still the loser that she is. The sun is already setting and she still hasn't found any shelter. 

“Arceus… this is not good.” Eevee whispered to herself as she walked silently. As she whipped her head from left to right, her eyes scanned for other Pokémon as she stayed hidden behind a tree. 

Maybe this wasn't so bad-

“Hey Ryan, are you sure you smelled some food in here?”

Eevee's furs stood on end as she heard the voice. She had to think, fast. She glanced down at her unsheathed claws.

Please, let me do it.

She leapt up, clinging to the bark of the tree with all her might. She reached up to climb, one paw at a time to hoist herself up to the nearest tree branch to hide. 

“Of course I smelled food here! I have a sharper nose than you!” 

The Eevee, clinging tightly above, looked down to get a good look at the two predators. A dragon with two heads bickering with each other came into view. Her mind quickly recognized the Pokémon.

“Maybe you're just lying to me so you can have all the food to yourself!” The other head roared as it rammed itself into the other.

“Idiot! We have the same body! How can I even hide food from you, if you're just there right next to me!" 

From above, Eevee sighed in relief, looking at the two heads arguing with each other. She could literally kiss this tree out of gratitude for saving her life right now.

She said it too soon.

The branch snapped in half and the other end plunged to the ground with Eevee on it.

She yelped in pain as she fell on her back, right in front of the two hungry dragons. 

“Damn, you're actually right this time. Arceus has blessed us!" One head said as it drooled at the sight of the terrified Eevee. She froze at first, her body quaking at the possible end of her fate. 

She gathered herself and ran for her life.

“After her!" The other head hollered. 

She zipped through logs and fallen branches, narrowly avoiding collision with a tree. She had never ran this fast before. This was too soon for her to end!

For a blind being, they were gaining on her, fast. They've locked on to her scent, heads snapping viciously at random in her direction. She continued to run for her life, even though her lungs felt like they were about to burst from over-exerting herself.

One of the Zweilous heads raised its neck, as if to breathe deeply. It snapped its jaws open to release a Dragon Pulse straight at her, plummeting at a high speed, exploding as it made contact with her body. The attack sent her flying like a pathetic ragdoll before falling limp to the ground, unable to move in pain. 

She urged herself to stand up but failed. Zweilous bounded right up to her, preparing another attack to finish the job. She covered her head with her paws as she shut her eyes tight, afraid of what would happen next.

“EEVEE, LOOK OUT!”

The two heads looked up just in time for a Blast Seed to be hurled right at them, causing a huge explosion. It almost sent the Zweilous staggering backwards, roaring as they frantically searched for the culprit within the smoke around them.

Charmander emerged from the smoke, wielding a Dragon Claw as he lunged at the Zweilous without warning. The two headed beast was taken aback as Charmander swung a violent slash at one of its necks, wounding it badly. 

"YOU'LL PAY FOR THIS!" a head bellowed, slamming a Head Smash at its target. Charmander darted sideways, narrowly dodging the attack. He clouded his fist in flames before landing a Fire Punch on his opponent, searing the dragon’s skin with burns. In pain, the Zweilous fled, leaving him and the Eevee alone.

Charmander turned to her, eyes gleaming from the dying flames. He ran towards her, appearing concerned.

“Are you okay?!” He cried out, wrapping the Eevee in a warm embrace. “I'm so sorry Philip…”

Who in the world of Arceus is Philip?!

She laughed nervously, patting him on the back with an awkward smile. “Hey, I'm not dead yet." 

"Oh.” Charmander let go, letting her sit on her own. “I-I’m sorry I left you alone...” 

“It's not your fault." She put on her dumbest smile. "I mean, I'm sure you're not obligated to crazy human Eevee to any other way right?”

“You're still mad about that?" 

“Kinda." She drawled, trying to stand up. “Arceus, that hurt." 

"From Zweilous or what I said?”

"Zweilous." 

“I assumed you knew how to fight since you somehow managed to travel on your own to Apple Woods." Charmander said, brushing the dust off his skin. “I didn't know you… y’know.”

"I told you, I didn't come here on my own. Someone brought me here.” She replied, ears pinned back to her head in frustration.

“Uh-huh, sure.” Even with all that, he still doesn't believe her. “Anyway, I'm Blake. You?”

“Katherine. Kate for short." She answered, averting her gaze.

"I'm also an explorer. I can escort you back home if you like, and I'll do it quickly too.”

“I don't have a home.”

Blake raised his brows, his eyes widening in surprise. "You're kidding, right?”

Kate shakes her head, pawing the ground underneath her. Blake slapped a palm to his face.

“Damn, you're not only crazy, but you're homeless too?!" He exclaimed, and she glared at him. Blake scratched his head, still weirded out by the strange girl. As he turned, intending to lead her outside of the forest, he heard her speak.

"Oh, no, I sure hope I'm not left alone to die out here~”

He snapped his gaze back at her, looking repulsed. “What in the world of Arceus are you doing?" 

"Oh Arceus, I'm just a poor defenseless Eevee, who could be so cruel?!”

Blake's left eye twitched. “Don't you dare guilt trip me. It's not gonna wo-"

Kate lowered her muzzle, looking up to accentuate the biggest puppy eyes she could muster. The Charmander heaved a sigh. 

“Listen-”

"Yes…?"  The weird Eevee girl asked innocently. Blake groaned, already annoyed.

“I'll let you stay- if you can contribute at least one thing in the house.”

"I can help you clean!” 

Blake shook his head. "You literally have no working thumbs." 

“Maybe I can use my tail…" 

“No. That's unsanitary. And I'm not brushing it for you!" 

“Dishes?”

"No. You look clumsy as hell. There's no way I'm letting you break any of them." 

Kate huffed, muttering quietly. 

"Also-” He added, raising a finger. "You can sleep on the couch, and you're not allowed to enter other rooms except the bathroom. If I ever see you doing any funny business, feel free to leave and never come back.”

Kate nodded, desperate to have shelter.

“Let's see if I can trust you. Do we have a deal?”

“It's a deal." She agreed as he motioned for her to follow him. It took them a long walk, but she took the time to immerse herself in her surroundings as the trees parted to reveal a waterfall, flowing towards the river below.

“This is Waterfall Cave. Some explorers found a secret mystery dungeon there long ago, though it was a pain to get in there.” Blake chuckled, glancing up to the entrance, which was covered by the continuous stream of water.

“What's a mystery dungeon?” Kate asked curiously.

"They're places that constantly shift, but never changing, sometimes appearing randomly in places that don't have dungeons. Even now, nobody knows where they're really from. Some say they're space-time distortions, which I'd say is believable enough. And it's my job to explore them.” 

“Wait, so you're saying you enter dangerous space-time thing’y places just to wander around and try not to die?!” 

“It's kinda like that sometimes, not gonna lie." 

Kate laughed a bit. "And you're okay with that? And here I thought I'm the dumb one.”

Blake rolled his eyes. “Hardy har har." 

The two continued walking in silence, following a path near the river of Waterfall Cave. Kate noticed that he walked rather fast, as if he was in a hurry all the time. She had to trot faster to keep up, in fear of getting left behind again. 

“Are we there yet?" She asked, her tail and ears sagging down. 

“We're almost there.” Blake replied, adjusting his scarf. “My house is located near this river, and it's close enough to Treasure Town.” 

He then pointed a finger forwards, right towards a shabby shack which is now visible in front of them.

“That one. My humble home." 

"Huh, not bad.” Said Kate as she padded alongside him. 

“Right?" Blake puffed his chest out proudly. “I made it myself!" 

"Oh, I guess that's why it looks half-ass-”

“Don't even say it."

“What? I was just gonna say assessed!" 

Blake rolled his eyes. “We both know that's not the word you were going for." 

Kate snickered, shrugging. "Was worth a try.”

Blake stepped on the small stairs leading to the door and turned the knob to head inside. Kate followed suit, eyeing the interior of the house. It wasn't too big nor too small, holding a homely feeling and the smell of wood with a cupboard and three doors on the sides. A small ragged carpet adorned the floor with an old rickety looking couch sitting beside it, close to an open window of the house.

Blake headed into his room and Kate waited patiently by the door, fiddling with her paws. He came out holding a lamp with his hand, blowing a small stream of fire to light it up.

“Sorry, no electricity today." Blake sighed, scratching the back of his neck. “I didn't have enough Poké on me to pay the bill." 

"It's fine.” Kate answered, her stomach starting to rumble audibly. She grinned sheepishly as she pawed at the floor. 

"Ah, right. What do you want for dinner?” He asks, opening the cupboard. “I got some… oran, oran, and more orans-” 

“Orans are good enough for me, thank you-" 

"Alright, catch.”

Kate's paws flailed wildly in the air trying to get ahold of the berry, but it slipped across and smacked straight into her forehead. A frustrated growl escaped her throat as she tried to grab it with one paw. It kept slipping out of her grasp, so she sighed, sat down and held it with both paws instead.

“So, Eevee, where did you come from?" Blake asked curiously, biting down on his berry.

“If I told you, you wouldn't believe me." Kate deadpanned as she chewed on her share. 

"...Right. You were gonna say human town?" 

“I’m from Canalave City. It doesn't exist here, right?”

“Arceus, you still think you're a human?" 

Kate sighed and shook her head. "See? Even if I told you, you wouldn't believe me.”

“They sound too far-fetched! Of course it's gonna be hard for me to believe that!” The Charmander groaned. He had enough craziness for one day.

“Whatever.” He gobbled his berry whole and swallowed it, heading into his room. "I'm going to bed. See you tomorrow.”

And with that, she was all alone again. She knew Blake is being wary around her as she is still a complete stranger to him, but damn, that Charmander is cold for a fire type. She finished her berry and padded towards the couch, leaping on the cushioned seat. The couch isn't the most comfortable thing in the world, but hey, at least it was something better than sleeping in an oran berry bush. 

Kate glanced down to her paws again, flexing the toes and ran her claws across the cloth. She still has so many questions, why she was brought here, and why she turned into an Eevee. It was great that Blake took her in, but she could at least make herself useful. She didn't want to be a burden, and especially for someone she just met. She closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep. Whatever she was thinking right now can be done tomorrow.

Next

[storiesbyjes2g]

3.216 New plans

The grocery person arrived, and I remembered Maira's ex-love interest owned that company. Whatever happened with them? She was definitely in puppy love, heh. But, life does life things, and now she's happily married. With a fully stocked fridge, I made fried chicken sliders for dinner after the riding lessons.

Alessia texted me, saying she knows I want to know who she was texting with earlier. She's exploring something new and will fill me in when she's comfortable it's worth sharing. Color me intrigued and extremely excited. I will always wear my protective big brother hat, but I also want Less to find the love she lost. I never thought she'd get to a place where she wanted to settle down and start a family, but clearly she found value in it, regardless of how it turned out. She wants it, and I want her to have it.

Sophia and Desi were so excited about going to school tomorrow. The kid is READY, and I'm as excited for her as I am nervous. I'm not nervous for her because she's a rockstar and all the kids will love her. I'm just anxious about not having her around anymore. She has been with us every day of her sweet life. She's never even spent the night anywhere else, and now she's going out into the world by herself. I'm very conflicted about it. We all brought our excitement upstairs and did bedtime together. Hopefully, she'll be able to sleep. I don't think I will.

Me and Sophia went back downstairs to process our new normal. I'd been thinking about my next move for a while now and could not decide which direction I wanted to go. Desi's interest in yoga deeply inspired me. She seems to be very serious about it, and that makes me want to be the best instructor I can be.

"I'm gonna start teaching again," I said.

She gasped, and her eyes lit up with glee.

"Really?? That's wonderful! I'm so glad to hear that. So...any thoughts about the studio?"

"Desi reminded me of why I fell in love with yoga and started teaching in the first place. My goal isn't to open a studio but to teach as many as I can. If I need to open a studio to do that, fine."

"Makes sense," she said. "I've been thinking about getting a job, too. Just something part time so I can be home when Desi gets out of school."

"That would be perfect. I want to be here too, but I know I can't. I'm glad she'll have you."

A memory popped into my head that made me shake my head.

"When my parents divorced, we lived with Dad. He had a 9-5, so we were home alone for a while. I remember being so scared that first day, walking into an empty house. We lived in an okay neighborhood, so I wasn't concerned about something happening, but I had to grow up a lot faster than I needed to."

"Why?"

"Because I'm the oldest. Even as a little kid, I was keenly aware that it was my job to protect my sister, and when no adults are around, I'm in charge. Lots of kids have to grow up like that, and there's nothing wrong with it. But if I can help it, I want Desi to be a kid for as long as possible. I don't want her to be stressed like we were."

"She won't. I'll make sure of that."

"Thank you."

[theweirdwideweb]

Apologies in advance if this comes off as rude- I just can't figure out how to word it right.

What is the point of getting diagnosed with ADHD or anything similar as an adult? How did it help you?

I strongly believe that I have either ADHD, autism, OCD or some combination of them. (Or possibly even something else I haven't considered. The one thing I'm certain of is that something is Off with me) But I feel like it's too late, since I really needed to be diagnosed as a child and have specialized assistance to help with my schoolwork and train me in coping mechanisms to help with my adult life.

But now I feel like it's too late to do anything because I've already spent my entire life unconsciously masking and having to do 5x the work just to appear "normal" and I believe it's too late to unlearn these things that have been hardwired into my personality my entire life. The one place that would've been beneficial to have a diagnosis is school, but I'm out of school and I don't plan on going back.

You would think work would be the one place that having a diagnosis would actually help, but the management at my job is very toxic and I feel like they would take advantage of my new diagnosis. Even though that is not legal, I fully believe management would find a way to fuck with me or take advantage of me without making it obvious.

There is a small part of me that would like to be diagnosed just to have the satisfaction of being like "holy shit I KNEW there was something wrong with me" but that satisfaction would last like 10 seconds and then wtf do I do?

(I don't know why I was never diagnosed as a child. My mom has several stories that clearly illustrate classic neurodivergent symptoms and regularly nags at me for being "difficult" for never showing emotions, having aversion to too many textures, not picking up on social cues, being too agitated by unwanted noises yet never put 2 and 2 together)

A couple thoughts: I was diagnosed at 34, but had no clue until that point. A diagnosis helped me understand many things about myself, both past and present. As a kid I was constantly humiliated for my symptoms by parents and peers. Now I can look back and know I was doing my best, even though I was diagnosed "lazy" and "bad" and "ungrateful" by my parents. I'd chalked my school difficulties, social problems, and uncoordinated body up to a moral failing. Now I understand so much more.

On the more practical side I started taking stimulant medication. Everything got easier. In therapy I started to understand what's my CPTSD and what's neurodivergence (and what's both!). I have gained tremendous self understanding. It helps me navigate the world with less discomfort.

I've also been going to group and individual DBT therapy for the past 7 months. So much of DBT is aimed at trauma survivors and neurodivergent people. It helps bring your awareness to unhelpful thought patterns and gives you practical tips on how to snap out of an obsessive thought or sensory overload state.

tl;dr Medical help is available to you in many forms once you receive a diagnosis. I'd much rather know. It's shaped my understanding of myself both past and present. I've never regretted getting tested. As a matter of fact tomorrow I have my 1st round of Bipolar testing. Know thyself!

[thelostgirl21]

I wish there was a way to clearly say:

I'm personally comfortable being called a "woman", only because I have the sexual dimorphism typically associated with a female of the human species, and that's how other people see me as when they look at my physical appearance; nothing more.

While making 100% sure not to accidentally bring any harm to the trans community, or making it sound like one's gender identity should always match their physical appearance, when that's far from being the case.

Because, until very recently, I'd always been calling myself "a girl", or "a woman" exclusively based on how I physically look.

To me, defining myself as "a woman", has always been the equivalent of describing an external characteristic of my body that others are able to see.

- I'm a woman.

- I'm 5'7''.

- I have brown eyes.

- etc.

It's always been exactly the same to me. It's what you can physically see, not who I am.

Somehow, it's like I completely forgot to develop a sense of personal identity tied to "being a woman" while I was growing up.

I could wake up tomorrow with a body that has the sexual dimorphism of a male of my species instead, have everyone call me a man and suddenly have to live my life as one, and I'd have only ONE problem with it.

Just the one.

My partner is a heterosexual man, so that would be a challenge.

But otherwise, I think I'd just be really curious to explore the physiological differences between my prior body and my new body, and then move on with my life without changing a single thing to the things I like, my behavior in general, personal interests, probably the way I like to dress, too, etc.

I'd just be "looking more masculine" while doing it.

It would be like having blonde short hair instead of my current brown long hair.

The rest of the world would treat me differently as a man, sure! But that wouldn't reflect how I identify or feel inside about who I am.

Just how others now see me as and choose to socially treat me.

My gender, to me, is something that's always existed outside of myself.

I have no personal use for it, nor is it a part of my personality.

I guess I've often been gender-non-conforming, too, not because I was attempting to rebel against my own gender, felt a need to distance myself from the binary, or anything... But just because I've never seen the point of it.

I've had boyfriends telling me that it was like I wanted to be the "man in the relationship", and being upset that I wasn't letting them play their role at times (that hasn't really been an issue with women, oddly enough); and I broke up with them without looking back, because what the fuck was that even supposed to mean?

I wasn't trying to behave like a man or a woman, I was just being myself, and adopting the social roles and behaviors I'm comfortable with. If you can't love me as I am, then what am I supposed to do?

Younger, I've had little boys back at school telling me that "it was weird for a girl to like certain things or express herself a certain way", and my response has always pretty much been to shrug, go "guess I'm a weird girl then", and then continue doing things my way.

(Yes, I'm aware that I've been very privileged to live in a world where I've merely been occasionally bullied or suffered verbal micro-agressions for ignoring the social standards set for "little girls"... Then again, I've probably embraced some of them!

I loved playing with my "He-Man and the Masters of the Universe set", or walking around with a lightsaber pretending to be Luke Skywalker... But I was cool with "My Little Poney" (the originals) and "Rainbow Bright", too!

Like I said, I wasn't trying to be "non-conforming", I just liked whatever I liked!

I was also lucky enough that my parents fully allowed me to go for what I enjoyed in terms of toys, games, activities, playmates, etc., regardless of gender.

And my physical appearance as a child occasionally had people mistaking me for a boy. So, perhaps, the other adults that saw me behave as one in public assumed I was one, and thus put less pressure on me to behave in a way that would have been deemed more "feminine" than "masculine".

By the point I really started looking more "feminine" (like I do now), I guess I'd moved past caring about it, and/or had reached a point where it made no sense to me that it would suddenly have been upsetting that I occasionally behaved "as a boy" or enjoyed "boy things" now when, until then, it had always been perfectly fine and well accepted that I did!

I guess there's something to be said about the influence of early socialisation, and how adults in the social environment of a child respond to a young child's gender, in the level of importance they might instinctively give to it later on.)

Like, I'm pretty sure that, if I were to ask you to determine my gender based on my looks alone (while fully giving you permission to do it), especially when I'm performing on stage wearing makeup, you'd go "you're a woman!" with a fair level of confidence!

But that's just it! To me that's just the way I look. A stylistic choice based on the way my body chose to develop, if you will.

What drives me nuts, though, is that I have zero problem empathizing with the trans community and their need to express their own gender identity, because I know what it feels like to need to be seen and respected as one's authentic self!

You tell me you identify as a woman, a man, agender, genderfae, etc., and/or feel a need to express it? Be yourself, and rock that gender! It is who you are, and it is your right to own it!

The fact that I feel like I don't have any particular use or need for gender doesn't mean that it can't be important for others, and that they don't have a use or need for it themselves.

Just because I don't intimately understand it, doesn't mean it doesn't exist or doesn't matter. It doesn't mean that I can't support, and actively advocate for proper gender recognition and respect in schools and other public places.

I "get it" without "getting it", if you will.

The problem, however, is that I am extremely uncomfortable with the idea that, if I identify as a "woman", people will assume that it means more to me than "I physically look female".

That it will be assumed that I emotionally and psychologically connect with my gender, and feel a need to express it, or a sense of attachment and belonging to the woman gender.

After having called the way my physical body "looks" to others on the outside "being a woman" for decades, it's hard for me to suddenly go "being a woman is not the same as passing for a woman, it's about the gender you identify with inside..." and stop calling myself a woman, because I feel like I've no gender identity inside of myself.

But "agender" doesn't quite feel right to me, either, because I'd never had any problem with the idea of being a woman, until I learned that I was supposed to give a damn about being a woman, and personally connect with my gender, that is.

And "gender non-conforming" doesn't sound quite right, either, because I'm not trying to avoid conforming to the woman gender, or expressing a different gender than the one that was assigned to me at birth.

They basically gave me a gender based on my genitalia when I was born, and I went "Yeah, sure! I guess I can look the part... Why not?"; while ignoring the whole social instructions booklet and guidelines that went with it.

So lately, every time someone has asked me what my gender is, or what gender I identify with, I've had a tendency to freeze, panic, and mentally go:

Like the idea of my having a gender makes no internal sense to me. It's not something I can relate to, "vibe with", or identify with.

Is there a way to respectfully say "I'm calling myself a woman for convenience's sake, because that's the gender traditionally associated with the way I look, and I'm okay with having grown into a feminine appearance by default? But please, don't assume it means anything to me beyond that, or expect me to behave, dress, or do anything according to the woman gender."

I've been using "gender apathetic" in an attempt to convey it, but is that really what it means, and how most people understand it?

Basically, I feel like my answers to these questions would be:

- What physical look do you most resemble? Woman / feminine / female.

- What gender do you identify with? None.

- Do you feel comfortable being called a woman, and her / she pronouns, based on the way you look? Yes.

How do you freaking call or define that?

Non-internalized cisgenderism?

[unpredictable-probabilities]

Tomorrows Over Centuries || Chapter 3: A Tale of Our Own

Summary:

Hob tours Morpheus around the bookfair, and they spend their time browsing stories together and talking about which ones they're particularly fond of.

Later on, it appears that people who go to bookfairs are drawn to the Prince of Stories, and Hob's mind recalls the night when a certain playwright caught Morpheus' attention. But unlike in 1589, Hob now has an idea about what he can do to get that attention back...

Word Count: 5,591

Rating: Explicit

Author's Note:

If you want to skip the explicit scene, stop reading at "Morpheus’ eyes turned into galaxies" and continue again at "Hob vaguely felt a shimmer of magic".

(more notes at the end)

———

Dream had been aware of the existence of bookfairs, in theory. He had never been to one. Now, as he stood in the middle of it breathing in the scent of books, seeing the daydreams of aspiring writers and avid readers, he decided that it was the type of event he would like to frequent.

“There you are.”

Dream recognized the voice behind him before he even turned to look. He smiled. Something he had found himself doing quite a lot recently.

“Here I am,” he told Hob as he faced him. Dream remembered Hob's remark yesterday about how their dean often wanted them to dress handsomely in school events, and Hob certainly followed that.

“I knew I would find you here.” The corners of Hob's eyes crinkled as he smiled.

“In the fiction section?”

“The stories section. Are we standing in the middle of your creations, Your Highness?” Hob asked playfully as he looked around at the shelves.

Dream turned to Hob curiously; his friend had never called him by such a moniker before.

Hob grinned at him. “Did a little research on your name last night when I got home. I'm in the presence of the Prince of Stories, correct?”

“A little research?” 

“Alright, a lot of research,” Hob admitted. “I just found out your name after more than 600 years, can you blame me for wanting to know more?”

Dream would normally disagree with the prospect of someone going to lengths to find out information about him, but as always Hob was the exception. “There would be plenty of time to get to know each other more deeply from now on.”

Hob's daydreams tugged at the corner of his mind, calling for his attention. Dream caught a glimpse of them having breakfast together, walking along the university grounds, falling asleep on the couch in front of the television.

He cleared his throat—a gesture he learned that humans do to interrupt another's train of thought. “Hob, you should know that when you think of me while we are so near each other, I can see your thoughts even if I do not intend to.”

Hob blinked in realization and chuckled. “Right. Well, I don't hear you complaining.”

Dream's lips curved into a teasing smile at Hob's playful tone. “There is no reason to; I fully intend to fulfill all of your daydreams. And then some.”

Hob's cheeks colored a shade of red, and he winked as he said, “I'll hold you to that.”

Dream chuckled, to his own surprise. Hob, however, looked pleased at the noise he had made.

He felt his face warm and opted to change the subject. “What else did you wish to know about me?” he inquired, having decided that he would no longer avoid Hob's attempts to know him better.

“Oh, um…” Hob seemed caught off-guard. “These books, are any of them inspired by you in particular? Did you have a direct influence on them?”

Dream tilted his head ever so slightly. “That is what you wish to know?” He had been prepared for more personal questions, aware as he was that Hob's curiosity knew no bounds.

Hob nodded, a fond smile on his face. “I wanna know what stories you like to write. Come on,” he took Dream’s hand and pulled him to the nearest bookshelf.

Dream glanced down at their intertwined fingers. In centuries past, his friend—though they were much more than that now—would never have attempted such a gesture so casually. A pleasant warmth bloomed within him at the knowledge that Hob felt comfortable enough in their new relationship as to lace their hands together in public.

“Oh, this one has your name on it,” Hob stopped in front of a shelf where a book called The Dreamcatcher Battalion was displayed.

“Ah, yes.” Dream recognized the title immediately. The illustration on the cover featured a group of four children on a flying chariot against the backdrop of a night sky; two of them wore an expression of adventurous determination, while the other two were grinning excitedly. “The author of this one grew up experiencing night terrors, and so she wrote a book about children who have the power to go into other people’s dreams and help them through their nightmares.”

Hob looked mildly surprised before smiling. “And I suppose you inspired that idea by helping her through her own night terrors?”

“I simply kept watch to make sure that the nightmares did not go far beyond their purpose; an overabundance of fear could break the mind rather than help it learn. She must have felt my presence in some way, and it led her to express the same feeling of security through these magical children. She has learned well.”

Hob turned to the book cover with a thoughtful expression. “Does it ever feel that way for you, like it’s an adventure?”

“It is my function; it was never meant to be something for me to detest nor take pleasure in.”

Hob looked at him with raised eyebrows. “Okay… But how do you feel about it? Right now?”

Dream blinked and turned his gaze to the book once more, looking at the illustrated faces of the characters who have sworn to protect dreamers from the worst of their fears. He felt a twinge of wistfulness at the knowledge that those children had each other’s company at every dream they visit, every nightmare they tame. Never had they had to make the nightly journey alone.

Then a certain librarian’s face appeared in his memory; the one who had watched over his realm even through his unexplained absence of more than a century. Lucienne was first to greet him upon his return, and had remained unwaveringly loyal through his changes in temperament.

And there was Matthew, his raven who had gone with him to Hell despite only being acquainted with him for a few hours at most. His companion who, instead of escaping to save himself, chose to stay and help Dream win the battle against the Morningstar.

“I… feel that I do like my work. Now. Seeing humans bring to life the things they dream of… It is inspiring. Whether the source is a nightmare they learned from or an idea that they dearly wanted to share with the world, I am honored to have been able to help in my own way.”

Hob was staring at him with an expression that he could only describe as fondness, though Dream wasn't certain he understood why Hob would look at him so. “It is wonderfully brilliant, isn't it? I'm glad I took the time to learn my letters at that printing business ages ago. Otherwise I might have missed out on all of this,” he gestured at the books surrounding them. “D’you see any favourites?”

Dream turned his gaze to the bookshelf at the far wall and sensed a particular story. “It would be difficult to pick a singular favourite, but there is one that had caught my attention at the time the idea was born.” He led Hob over to the shelf, silently elated by the fact that walking hand-in-hand with Hob was something that he could initiate now.

They stopped in front of a novel with an illustrated cover of two princes on either side of a princess, showing her various gifts.

“The Suitors’ Quest,” Hob read the title. “Seems like one of those classic fairytale tropes, though for it to have caught your attention I'm guessing there's something more to it?”

Dream nodded. “The story begins with the princes competing for the hand of the fair princess, aye. Then the lady gets taken hostage by the enemy kingdom, and the two rivals must work together to rescue her. They successfully do so, but along the way, they had discovered that who they truly loved was each other, and so neither desired the princess’ hand any longer.”

Hob's eyes had widened in surprise. “And… what, they get together by the end?”

“And live happily ever after,” Dream felt his lips turn up in a smile that Hob readily returned.

“Was it the unorthodox aspect that caught your attention?”

Dream paused for a moment before answering. “That book was published not too long after I had spurned you in 1889. I had thought perhaps… if I had been nearly as brave as those princes in the story, I might have saved the both of us a lot of pain.”

Hob stared at him and ran his thumb soothingly across the back of Dream's hand. “You're here now, love,” he said gently. “And I'm no prince, but you've got about a hundred titles so maybe that makes up for it?”

Dream returned Hob's playful gaze. “There is nothing to make up for. Though perhaps some of my titles might surprise you.” He reached over to the next shelf and picked up a copy of Old Possum’s Book of Practical Cats.

Hob raised a questioning eyebrow.

“I am also what humans would call the King of Cats, and I felt the author's fondness of them in every poem of this collection.”

Hob looked at him with eyes wide with disbelief. “Is… Is that true, or is this your idea of a prank?”

Dream let his form flicker momentarily to that of the King of Cats; a feline with thick black fur and a long tail, as tall as Hob while seated on its hind legs.

It lasted for barely a second before he was back to his human form once more, but Hob's jaw had hinged open as he gaped at Dream.

“God's teeth…” he muttered.

Dream suddenly felt his shoulders tense. “Does it bother you?” he had not considered how Hob might react to finding out that not all his forms are humanoid.

Hob blinked. “What? Bother me?” he grinned. “Not at all, love! I had no idea you were such an adorable and fluffy thing, that's all.” He ruffled Dream's hair.

“I am neither of those,” Dream argued even as he felt his face warm and made no move to stop Hob from mussing up his hair.

“You are absolutely both of those,” Hob said as he retracted his hand and instead took the book from Dream. “Well. At least it's a different poet. Dunno if I wanna see any tributes to you by that wanker Shaxberd…”

“Hob,” Dream chided, feeling the corner of his lips twitch with amusement.

Hob made a face that was both petulant and playful. “He took you from me that night, I shan't ever forget it.”

Dream leaned closer to Hob and gazed right into his eyes. “No one can take me from you.”

Hob's cheeks had darkened and his voice had a slight tremor when he spoke. “R-Right.”

Dream felt the beginnings of daydreams form in Hob's mind, and he leaned away once more to prevent himself from looking into them or doing something to Hob which might border on public indecency.

“Shall we look around some more?”

Hob blinked himself back to his senses and grinned. “That's what we're here for, right? Come on, I'll show you some of the history books I saw earlier.” He began to pull Dream along down the aisles. “They got some things right and other things laughably inaccurate. We'll judge them together, you'll love it.”

***

They were in the graphic novels section when one of Hob’s students turned up.

“Hey, you like The Moomins too?”

Hob had been looking for a particular title on the shelves, and he turned around when he recognized the voice. He was about to say that he hadn’t read that series, but he realized that Jade wasn’t talking to him.

Morpheus was reading one of the volumes, and he glanced up at the question. “It is interesting.”

“Yeah!” Jade grinned and stepped closer to Morpheus, the overhead lights reflecting off the purple streaks in her hair. Her eyeliner was thicker than that of Morpheus himself, and her black lace-up boots put her at almost the same height as him.

Hob didn’t miss the way she seemed to be sizing up the Dream King.

The dean was prickly with outfits, and the bookfair felt to Hob like it would be his first date with Morpheus; he had been so preoccupied with choosing what to wear that he had hardly thought about how Morpheus would dress.

Morpheus’ unbuttoned grey jacket showed off how his turtleneck and skinny jeans hugged his figure at the right places, so Hob hardly blamed anyone for staring.

Hob himself was wearing a navy blazer over a blue button-up long-sleeved shirt, his grey pants were tailored, and he had picked his newest brown leather loafers. He felt quite good in the ensemble, especially when Morpheus’ eyes practically roamed all over him when they met up earlier.

He should have expected that Morpheus would be on the receiving end of a similar ogling.

“I grew up reading the Moomin books, and recently I’d been trying my hand at making comics. I find it easier to write stories when I draw the characters first.” Jade smiled at Morpheus in the same way she always did before she asked out a classmate; Hob had seen it a few times along the corridors.

“Jade, nice seeing you here,” he walked over to them and stood beside Morpheus.

He knew there was nothing to be jealous about, but that didn’t mean he liked seeing people flirt with his boyfriend.

“Professor Gadling!” Jade looked surprised to see him. “Hey! Is this your friend?” she nodded to Morpheus. “I was just about to ask him if he wanted to have coffee and maybe talk about comics?” She glanced expectantly at Morpheus.

Morpheus closed the graphic novel and gave his version of a polite smile. “I think not. I am in a relationship with Hob Gadling and would endeavor to remain so for the foreseeable future.”

Jade’s eyes widened as she looked back and forth between Hob and Morpheus. Then she grinned brightly. “Professor! You told us you were single!” she said in a playfully accusatory tone. “You didn’t share any relationship stories in class when the other professors did last Valentine’s day.”

Hob remembered how the students had cajoled the friendlier professors to share stories of their love lives at the party that was held at The New Inn. He just chuckled when it was his turn and said that he was married to the Inn, all the while thinking of the raven-haired fellow he built it for. He felt himself smile.

“I wasn’t lying, I really was single back then,” Hob said defensively.

“He was. I remedied it.”

Hob was not a person to get easily flustered, but the way that Morpheus smiled at him at that remark was positively sinful that it brought to mind just exactly how Morpheus had remedied it in his office yesterday. It brought up other things to mind too, but Hob clamped down on them before they could turn into full-fledged daydreams that his mind-reader of a boyfriend would be able to see.

He cleared his throat, aware that his face was burning up. “Yeah, we're dating now. Maybe at the next party I’ll have some stories to tell. None of you hound me at the Inn!” he said pointedly, as some of his students tended to waylay him at the pub whenever they had questions about the lessons or just some stories to tell him. “We might have some plans tonight,” he gestured to Morpheus.

“You got it, Professor. Nice running into you both!” She left with a mischievous smile that let Hob know that the entire class group chat was gonna know about him and Morpheus before sunset.

“Her daydreams are loud,” Morpheus said as he returned the graphic novel to the shelf beside him.

“What?” Hob looked at the direction Jade went then back to Morpheus. “Oh. Uh… Yeah. It was a little weird to see one of my students try to hit on you.”

“Her daydreams were about you and me. They occupied her mind as she left.”

Oh. Hob couldn’t decide whether that was better or worse. He sighed and ran a hand down his face. God. The questions he would receive when he got back to class.

“She was wondering about the plans you mentioned. Do we have plans for tonight?” Morpheus asked curiously.

“Maybe? If you want.” Being hopeful got him this far, he wasn't about to stop now.

Morpheus stepped towards Hob, backing him up against the bookshelf. “And would you be telling me what these plans are? Or is it a surprise?”

“I am technically still at work, duck,” Hob chided playfully. “I don't want you snogging me senseless against this shelf.”

“Your daydreams say otherwise,” Morpheus’ voice was a low rumble, and a dastardly smile was on his lips.

Hob swallowed, and his eyes followed Morpheus’ movement as he reached up–

And took something from the shelf above Hob's head.

Morpheus took a step backwards and gave Hob the volume that he had been looking for, a look of feigned innocence on his face. “I believe this is what you wanted to purchase?”

Hob blinked and took the graphic novel from Morpheus as his brain caught up to what just happened. “I'll get you back for that,” he said pointedly.

“I look forward to it.” Morpheus’ teasing blue eyes momentarily flickered to black with pinpricks of stars, and Hob could only smile and press a soft kiss to his lips. 

After an hour more of browsing stories of all genres, Hob had a basketful of books he was planning to buy. Morpheus offered to carry it for him to the cashier, but the crowd was thick among the queues, and Hob noticed that Morpheus was uncomfortable with the tight space; his posture turning rigid and guarded despite his efforts to maintain a calm expression.

So Hob had gotten him a cup of hot chocolate from the snack bar and told him to just wait there while he paid for the books. Morpheus had wrapped his hands around the cup and agreed.

Twenty minutes and one heavy tote bag later, Hob waded through the crowd and began making his way back to the snack bar. His eyes landed on Morpheus, and he was relieved to find that he looked more relaxed now than when he had left him earlier.

Hob was less relieved when he realized that Morpheus was talking to some blond man with glasses and a sweater vest, and Hob didn’t need to be able to see daydreams to notice how the chap was looking at his boyfriend.

He frowned as he remembered that the blond was one of the authors holding a book signing at a booth earlier. Hob has never denied being fond of books, and the bag he was currently carrying was evidence of that. But sometimes these writers really got on his nerves. Did they really have to pop out whenever he was with Morpheus?

Hob was standing at quite a distance away, and Morpheus hadn’t yet seen him. He shifted on his feet and wondered whether or not he should approach them.

Well, why shouldn’t he? It would be a perfectly normal thing to do. This wasn’t like 1589 when Morpheus left him to talk to someone else, and they were together now. So whoever that joker was would be the outsider in the group should Hob approach them.

But he could feel his mind overthinking and it glued him into place. What would he say once he got there? Would he be expected to participate in an in-depth discussion about what it was like to create stories? Besides, if he went over there and immediately introduced himself as the boyfriend, it might appear a tad too possessive and he didn’t know how Morpheus would react.

Hob could feel a headache forming behind his eyes. Things were much easier in the 14th century when if a man was making advances on one’s partner, one could simply clock him in the jaw and that was that.

Morpheus met his gaze so suddenly that Hob almost flinched. He had to have known that Hob was there to be able to zero in on him so quickly.

It wouldn’t be obvious to anyone else, but Hob could clearly see the curiosity and amusement in the gleam of his eyes. Morpheus turned to the author again, who was entirely oblivious to the moment that had just passed.

He could see my daydreams, Hob realized. That was how Morpheus knew he was there. And the dastardly Dream King was waiting to see what Hob was going to do. Well. Hob did promise to get him back.

He walked to a wall to the side instead of straight to the bar, moving closer in a way that wasn’t too noticeable. Then he called to the front of his mind the daydreams he’d been having about Morpheus throughout his long life. It wasn’t difficult at all; it turned out that remembering them was far easier than trying to suppress them all those years.

It was certainly easy to remember how shapely Morpheus’ calves looked in those breeches he wore in 1789, and the tempting thoughts that had rattled around in Hob’s mind with the knowledge that they had a private room in The White Horse at the time.

1889 was the first time Hob had seen Morpheus with a short haircut, and was unsurprised that it suited him just as well. Hob had been able to see the slope of his neck better, and it was a short route from that observation to the thought that The White Horse had just built a new set of bedrooms upstairs.

Just an hour ago they had been walking along the aisles of books, and more than once Hob had let his gaze wander to those skinny jeans that were perfectly tailored to Morpheus’ arse.

Hob kept his eyes on Morpheus while he let his daydreams run rampant, and he saw his posture tense up again before he politely said goodbye to the author. Morpheus walked away from the bar and blended into the flow of the crowd faster than Hob could keep him in his line of sight.

He frowned and craned his neck to try to see where Morpheus had gone. He wasn’t leaving, was he—?

“Hob Gadling.”

Hob whirled around to see Morpheus standing before him with a dark expression; his jaw was clenched and there was a dangerous look in his eyes.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Morpheus seemed to loom over him.

Hob swallowed. The feelings stirring within him at seeing Morpheus like this were far from fear, but he did worry that he might have overstepped. “Alright, well, I can explain that—”

“If you wish to tempt a being such as I then you must be prepared for the consequences.” Morpheus’ voice seemed to reverberate through the air around them, and Hob felt the words die in his throat. “Tell me, what did you hope to achieve by baring your thoughts to me thus?”

Hob felt the cold wall against his back and realized that Morpheus had cornered him. None of the people walking past paid them any mind, and he could feel rather than see the shield that Morpheus had put up to hide them from sight. “You know what I want,” he breathed. “I showed you, didn’t I?”

Morpheus’ gaze softened, and he reached up to touch Hob’s face in a gentle caress. “I will not presume, my love,” he muttered.

That word embedded itself into Hob’s chest, and he found himself holding the lapels of Morpheus’ blazer. “I want you,” he held Morpheus’ gaze. “I want to bring you into my home and keep you in my heart, as I hope you’ll keep me in yours.”

“You need not wish for what already is.” Morpheus leaned forward and pressed their lips together. His hands on Hob's waist clutched at his shirt, the fabric crumpling into his grip as they kissed each other with increasing fervor.

Hob pulled back just enough to speak. “Take me to bed, Morpheus,” he managed between breaths. “Now.”

Morpheus’ eyes turned into galaxies, and sand swirled around them in an instant.

Hob fell backwards into his own bed, barely registering the heavy thud of the bag of books on the floor.

Morpheus’ hungry mouth was on his, and Hob was already pushing his lover’s jacket off his shoulders, tossing it aside the moment it slipped free.

Morpheus straddled him, and Hob moaned into his mouth as their groins pressed together.

“Hob,” Morpheus’ hair was wild and he spoke with a barely controlled voice. “What do you—”

“Everything,” Hob gasped, grinding up onto Morpheus. “All of it. You. Morpheus.”

His lips were claimed once more; and Hob welcomed it willingly. Their tongues pushed and slid against each other, and Hob melted in Morpheus’ embrace.

Hands deftly worked to unbutton his shirt, and Hob wriggled and turned as much as was necessary to get all the restricting layers off of him.

Morpheus’ mouth traveled up his jawline, resting just below his ear where Morpheus sucked and nipped at the tender flesh.

Hob arched his bare torso against Morpheus as his breathing came in shallow gasps. His hands roamed under Morpheus’ turtleneck, exploring the smooth skin underneath.

Morpheus hummed low in his throat before his shirt disintegrated into nothingness. He returned to exploring Hob's mouth with his tongue, all the while grinding his hips down.

Hob whined desperately into their kiss, his hands gripping Morpheus’ arse as he rutted against him. Too much fabric was in the way, and he pulled at the waistband of the blasted tight skinny jeans in the hopes that they would disintegrate too.

Morpheus pulled away from their kiss with a gasp, and it fueled the fire inside Hob to see his godlike lover so worked up to the point of breathing, lungfuls of air that his physical form seemed to need now.

He vanished the remaining of their clothing, and Hob couldn't find it in himself to care where his expensive trousers might have ended up, not when Morpheus crawled down his body and wrapped his mouth around his cock.

“Ohhhhh,” Hob arched off the bed, fists clenched in the sheets beneath him. Morpheus worked him from root to tip, his tongue flicking languidly at the slit. “Fuck,” Hob screwed his eyes shut as Morpheus’ throat tightened around him, his tongue and lips impossibly soft and molten hot. “Morpheus— I… Christ have mercy—” he squirmed and arched his back, but Morpheus’ hands were an iron brace against his hips, preventing him from moving them even an inch.

Blessedly Morpheus lifted his hands in order to spread Hob's thighs wider, but before Hob could think to move his hips, he felt a slick finger prodding at his entrance.

“Morpheus—!” his cock twitched in anticipation.

“Is this still good, my beloved?” his voice was rough and his gaze hungrier than it's ever been as his lubricated finger slipped in.

Hob nodded mutely, unable to form words around his shallow breaths as a second finger followed. Soon his hips were grinding down with abandon when there were three digits twisting and scraping along his walls. “M-More… I need—ahh…”

Morpheus watched Hob with rapt attention as he brushed Hob’s prostate repeatedly, enough to drag him to the edge but not beyond it.

“Morpheus,” Hob’s cock lay heavy and twitching, dripping pre-come as Morpheus continued his onslaught.

“Are you ready, my dearest?” Morpheus curled his fingers beautifully inside Hob.

“Ah—! Yes! I need you in me... Please…” Hob's hips were rolling of their own accord, and a sheen of sweat had formed on his forehead.

Morpheus leaned down and pressed a soft kiss on Hob's lips, the gesture a sharp contrast to the relentless movement of his preparation of Hob. He retracted his fingers, and Hob keened as he clenched down on the sudden emptiness.

But Morpheus didn't leave him wanting for long, lining himself up and pressing in so slowly that Hob felt every inch of his lover filling him.

Hob's breath hitched and his eyes rolled back in his head; his fingers dug into Morpheus’ shoulder as he thrust his hips upwards in encouragement. “Yesss… That's it, love… That's it…”

Morpheus latched his mouth onto the side of Hob's neck, his own breathing ragged as he retracted and sank back in, deeper every time. With his lips came tongue and teeth; he found a tender spot where Hob's neck meets his shoulders and bit down, just enough to make Hob gasp and buck his hips, drawing out a groan from both of them.

At a particularly powerful thrust, Morpheus buried himself to the hilt and a bolt of pleasure shot through Hob's core—

“Ngh! Morpheus…” his fingernails clawed at Morpheus’ back, his thighs, urging him to move with the rolling of his hips. “Don't stop… don't stop… Fuck…”

“You… are exquisite…” Morpheus looked down at him with such adoration that Hob felt himself flush even more along with the heat that seemed to be emanating from both of them. “Astonishing… Beautiful in your—”

Hob grabbed the back of his neck and crushed their mouths together, diving his tongue as far as it would go. Morpheus sped up in earnest, gripping Hob's hip as his thrusts became more powerful.

Hob threw his head back and gasped, pleas and moans and soft curses falling from his lips. The delicious pressure within him was building up fast, his thighs began to tremble, and he tensed up as he prepared to be hurled over the edge—

Morpheus slowed down, his previously brisk pace giving way to a more measured one, his lips pressing soothing kisses to Hob's neck.

“Wh…? My love… Darling…” Hob panted, the crash of frustration muddling his ability to form sentences. “What—Agh!” Sparks flashed behind his eyes as Morpheus slammed into him, picking up speed again as his breaths came in hot at Hob's ear. “Yes… Ah—Ah…”

A whine escaped Hob as Morpheus slowed down once more, his fingernails scraping Hob's thigh as he shifted into a deeper angle yet maintained a languid pace.

“You mad bastard…” Hob groaned as he realized what Morpheus was doing. He tried bucking his hips, but his lover had him pinned quite helplessly.

Morpheus lifted himself from Hob's torso to look down at him with a teasing smirk. “Do you not want to draw this out, my dearest? Will you not have me for as long as you could?” He punctuated this with a deep thrust that was infuriatingly not followed by another.

“You're going to kill me,” Hob panted and gave Morpheus a glare that was as sharp as his crumbling wits would allow him. “You would murder me in my own bed—” a gasp punched out of him as Morpheus’ cool fingers wrapped around his cock.

“Oh, not at all.” Morpheus began to stroke him in time with his thrusts, going faster and harder. “Though I have many plans for you in this bed. And my own, if you would permit me.” His breathing grew more shallow, and his gaze never left Hob as if he were a prey he intended to devour whole.

Hob could only produce noises that made no sense; words were beyond his reach now. Did Morpheus just invite him to his home? His bed? If Hob would permit— God's wounds, if only Morpheus knew that Hob had been willing to go anywhere with him long ago.

He could feel his orgasm approaching stronger than ever, and he whimpered at the thought that Morpheus might slow down again, but the heated kiss that his lover bestowed on him promised otherwise.

His moans became grunts as Morpheus sped up inside and around him, he dug his nails into Morpheus’ back, clutched at his hair, they gasped and panted into each other's mouths, and Morpheus twisted his hand just so at the same time as he slammed into Hob's prostate.

Hob came with a yowl that took the air from his lungs and convinced him he had gone blind for a moment; he trembled uncontrollably as he unraveled beneath Morpheus, who followed him over the edge with a guttural sound that branded itself onto Hob's brain.

They kissed and held each other through the aftershocks, their breaths and sighs mingling together as the tremors slowly dissipated. Hob made a soft groan as Morpheus gently pulled out and collapsed beside him on the bed.

Hob vaguely felt a shimmer of magic around them as Morpheus waved his hand and cleaned them up.

Then Morpheus laid a gentle kiss on Hob's forehead and began carding his fingers through his hair. “Are you all right, my love?” he murmured.

Hob nodded sluggishly, still catching his breath and reveling in the feeling of Morpheus’ soft touches on his scalp. He faced Morpheus and pulled him close, putting his arm around his waist and nuzzling his face against his neck. “I love you. Did I ever say?” He felt Morpheus’ breath hitch and his pulse quicken slightly.

“No. You have not said so before.” Morpheus tightened his embrace before continuing to thread Hob's hair between his slender fingers. “And I love you, Hob Gadling. With all that I am and all that I will be.”

Hob hummed in contentment, resting his hand over Morpheus’ heart that beats only for him, and allowed himself to drift off to sleep.

———

Author's Note:

Now with art by @emihotaru depicting their kisses~

Old Possum’s Book of Practical Cats is a collection of poems by T.S. Eliot; the musical Cats is based on this collection.

The Moomin books by Tove Jansson started as a comic strip and eventually became adapted into a series called Moominvalley.

The other stories mentioned in the bookfair scene are made up by me and @patchyegg87 based on vibes and Tumblr posts we've seen from long ago.

And I know I said I was planning to post this chapter last January so I apologize for how late I actually did--

Anyway, thank you so much for reading!

Special thanks to @patchyegg87 for keeping me motivated throughout this whole thing and brainstorming scenes with me~

I'm also grateful to the other Dreamling writers whose works inspired me to write this fic in the first place:

@moorishflower

@delta-pavonis

@purplesauris

@beatnikfreakiswriting

@signiorbenedickofpadua

@cuubism

@hardly-an-escape

I know I've never spoken to some of you but I just wanted to say thanks~

And to my readers, thank you for your patience with this late upload! I hope you liked the chapter!

———

<- Chapter 2

(Masterlist)

[asmutwriter]

You Saved me (Part 17)

DESCRIPTION: (Season 14) You get a house call from a new visitor

A/N: Yes these descriptions are getting shorter and less descriptive with each new part

Also do you like the new header's I'm using in my posts?

WORD COUNT: 2569

From Beginning / Previous / Next / Master List  

WARNINGS: swearing, violence, Michael!Dean, death

DISCLAIMERS

- This is fiction. Please always talk to your partner before doing anything and make sure they are ok with what you are doing beforehand

6 MONTHS LATER

You drop the girls off at school. Checking your phone for the time. Running on time for once. Having half an hour to get to work, which was only 15 minutes away. You smile. Turning your spotify playlist up to nearly max volume as you drive. Singing in excessive volume as you make your way to work.

You pull up to the car park. Grabbing your phone out of your bag and checking it properly. Turning off 'driving mode'. Wanting to kill 10 minutes before your shift started. Your phones buzzes through the unseen messages. One catching your eye as you see your bosses name pop up

'Incident at work last night. Closed today. 9am start tomorrow'

"Shit" you mutter. You should've checked your messages before leaving the school. You let out an annoyed sigh as you hold the steering wheel. "Oh well" you start up the engine. A smile coming over your face as you start driving home "free day".

You spend the day cleaning. Over the past couple of months you'd managed to have the work done fully to the upstairs part of your house. The attic was transformed into two bedrooms. One for each of your daughters as you took their previously shared downstairs room. You were just painting the different rooms now. Making the house really your home. You stand back. Admiring the work you'd done. Nodding to yourself as a smile creeps over your face.

"Hello Kathrine". A voice says behind you. You turn around. Jumping. A man in a suit and flat cap sat on your dining room chair. Legs folded neatly over one another. You clutch at your chest as you meet his green orbs.

"Jesus fuck you scared me Dean". You say. He half smiles at the name.

"Guess again". You furrow your brow slightly.

"I don't..." his eyes flash a white blue. You tense slightly. Trying not to show the sudden unease you feel. "Who are you? Why do you look like Dean?"

"I'm just borrowing him for a while. Don't worry that pretty head of yours. Your boyfriend is safe" he taps his head. "Right up here". You analyse him. His calm posture.

"What are you?"

"Are you asking in politeness or to try and figure out how you can kill me?". You smile at him. Tilting your head to the side as you both look at each other.

"Why don't you tell me to find out?". He smiles. Humoured by your boldness.

"The name is Michael". You look at him. Trying to read him. "The archangel". You try your best to remain calm. But he notices you shift. "You've heard of me".

"I'm pretty sure every person in the western world has heard of you. Now why the fuck are you here?"

"I just want to chat"

"And I want you to get out of my house"

"You don't want to hear what I have to say?"

"No". You turn, picking up a small pallet knife you were using earlier for the walls. Pointing it up. Taking a step towards him "Get out. Now". He looks at the small knife. Then at you.

"You do know that that-" he motions at the item "wont hurt me"

"No. But it will make me feel better if I use it on you". He smiles. An obvious amusement in his eyes.

"You're brave. Braver then I thought you would be". You stay silent. Making sure you keep your eyes on him. Being aware. Alert. He smiles. "I'm here to give you a proposition. I'm building an army. A powerful one. I'd like you to fight by my side"

"Why would I agree to that?"

"Don't you want to help protect your children?". You shuffle slightly. "Going through his thoughts - Deans memories - it wasn't only you I picked up on. What are their names..." he trails off. Snapping his finger as if he suddenly remembers it. "Anna and Lydia. Sweet girls they are". Smiling at you. An almost sickly smile. "Join me and they'll be safe. I'll keep them safe"

"I've kept them safe for 16 years. I think I'll be ok without your help". He watches you. Neither of you having moved from your spots. Him remaining sat at your dining room table. You with your knife sticking towards him still.

"You truly fascinate me". He grazes his eyes over you. Examining you. "Rummaging around Deans memories I've seen you be unbeatable. A great and accomplished woman".

"I'm flattered. Truly. Now get the fuck out of my house". He laughs. Looking away from you briefly before bringing his eyes back to yours. You swallow deeply. "Why me?". He tilts his head slightly. The smile he had disappears at your question. "There are powerful monsters in this world. Some great hunters. Fucks sake there is literal gods walking among us. So why have you - an angel of the lord - come to ask me to fight by your side?" He lets out a soft chuckle. Standing up as he watches you. You shuffle slightly. Moving backwards a step.

"You don't know what you are?" You move backwards as he takes a few steps towards you. You go to swipe at him but he blocks the attack. Grabbing your wrist and twisting it. Bringing it up and around your back. Pushing you into the kitchen counter top. Arm wretched behind you as he forces you over it. You feel him take the small blade from your fingers. Hearing the metal hit the ground as he tosses it aside. You struggle but his grip is harsh around your wrist.

"Let me go" you wiggle. Causing his hand to tighten.

"You've never wondered how you keep coming back from the dead? How an ordinary human can keep dying over and over again yet have no scars to prove it?".

"You're in a Winchesters brain. Surely you know that that's a standard thing". He pushes your arm up. Hurting the joint. You let out a whimpered laugh at the pain. Gritting your teeth. You move your free hand. Trying to grab something but he grabs that wrist too. Pinning it down near your head. You're stuck. Completely at his mercy. Your eyes frantic as you try and look behind you. Unable to see him due to the angle you're at. Chest flat against the counter. Fear washing over you.

"Due to your beautiful, heartfelt moment you had with Dean I know that mummy dearest made a demon deal to have you". You shut your eyes. "Now I'm unsure of what she said exactly and what demons are capable of. So one of two things happened. Either they took what she said literally. Taking 'I want my child to have a long life' to the extreme of bringing you back until you've reached that goal". You shake your head. Biting your bottom lip as he continues talking. Trying to push against him but to now avail.

"Or what I theorise is that they can't work miracles. They can't make new life happen. But they can expand on existing life. So, they plucked one of their tortured souls from hell and planted it into your mum. Creating you"

"Please. Please let me go..." you whisper. Almost a whimper. Cursing at yourself for not sounding as strong as you'd like to.

"That means that you are already dead. You are just a soul plucked from the depths of hell and reborn again. But you can't kill a ghost. You can lay it to rest, but a ghost can't die. Not unless you destroy its bones. Which is why you come back to life". He drops your wrist. Grabbing a handful of your hair as he pulls you up. You feel tears threatening your eyes. You don't look near him. Trying to avoid any of his features as you look away. Feeling his breath hit your ear as he speaks into it.

"Shall we put your immortality to the test?"

"No. No please no. Please". You start to feel a burning sensation. Throughout your eyes, mouth. Body. Your very soul on fire. You scream out. Trying to fight against him. But he remains unfazed. His eyes glowing as he watches you die.

-

You jolt awake. Lying on the sofa you bolt upright. The fear you had in your body still present. Especially when you look over. Michael sat on the arm chair. That same position he was in when you first saw him. Hands neatly on his lap. Legs folded one over the other. He glances at the clock on the wall.

"17 minutes and 53 seconds" he looks back at you. "That's how long you were dead for".

"So what?" you whisper. Scared eyes watching him. "You're telling me that I'm a living ghost?"

"Essentially. And the only way for you to die - truly die - is by burning your original spirits bones"

"That's why you want me to fight for you? To have an immortal on your side?"

"I've been around a long time. Before the dawn of man. I've seen powerful creatures. Holy and unholy. Walking gods. But they've all been killed off. Had a weakness. Sickness. Old age. Some human claiming to be a hero". He continues watching you "You are a strong woman. One of the strongest I've seen. We could rule this planet. Make it ours. Two gods side by side". A soft smile on his face as he watches you. A manic, soft smile. The fear in your eyes still evident. Your entire body tense as you look at him.

"You'd have nothing to fear from me Kathrine. Yes I could kill you. Easily in fact. But you'll come back. Every. Single. Time".

Before you can say anything, you hear the front door open. You turn in your seat. Standing up as you hear the familiar sound of you children. Anna and Lydia walk down the hallway, coming into the living room. They go to speak to you but Anna sees Dean. Well, his meat suit anyway.

"Dean!" she says. Her usual excitment in her voice. Going over to hug him. Lydia grabs her arm. Pulling her back. She looks at her younger sister who just shakes her head. He watches them both. Anna turning back to look at him.

"Girls" you say. Managing to hide the fear with a stern tone. "Go to your room. Now". Lydia turns, trying to take her sister with her but the eldest refuses to move. Keeping her ground as she looks at you. The younger keeps a hold of her hand.

"Please Anna" she whispers. Eyes darting between her sister and the green eyed man. "Please". She watches his eyes before nodding slightly. Allowing her to be taken to her room upstairs. Hearing the door shut. Feeling his eyes falling back onto you.

"Fascinating" You turn to face him. "Truly fascinating".

"What?"

"Your girls. They seemed to have some link with emotions. I thought it might only be you with that gift, given your birth. But for them to feel that I was not their friend. Just by being in the same room as me. That's truly fascinating". You point towards your front door. Hand shaking as you do so. You were so high on adrenaline and fear that you didn't care at this moment.

"I don't want to join your army. I don't want to be in a war. On either side. I just want to live out my life with my family. So please get out of my house". He watches. Standing up. Slow. His eyes fall onto yours. He takes in a breath. Walking towards you as he speaks.

"I respect you. I respect your decision to not join my war" He comes in front of you. Taking your chin in his thumb and forefinger. Your eyes darting down to his hand before going back up to his eyes. Frantically moving between them. The normally familiar green being cold and harsh. "If you don't want to fight by my side in this war then I will leave you and your children alone. Besides, we both know that killing you would be pointless". Eyes still watching yours "I will let you be happy with your family". You manage to control your breathing. Able to speak in coherent sentences.

"Deans in there, right?". Your voice so soft. He nods, dropping his hand. "I want to speak to him"

"I cant do that".

"We both know that you can. Let me talk to him".

"No"

"Why?"

"I'm growing tired of this conversation Kathrine"

"You don't get to call me Kathrine"

"Kathrine, Rose. Whatever you want to be called. I am leaving. You don't want to join my war, therefore you are serving me no purpose". With that sentence he disappears. You look around.

"Fuck" you mutter. You go to the stairs. Taking two steps at a time as you practically run up them. Not bothering to knock as you open the door. Seeing your girls sitting. One on the bed, the other at the desk. Both doing their homework. They both look at you.

"How was Dean?". Lydia asks. You go over to her. Hugging her tightly. Kissing the top of her head. "Mum. Can't breath. Need oxygen". You let go of her. Going over to Anna and giving her the same hugging treatment.

"Are you ok?". Anna says once you'd let her go from the vice grip you have on her. You nod.

"Fine. I'm fine. Just happy to see you girls. I've had a stressful and long day today. Just really glad to see you both" your pause is very brief. "I need to go make a phone call. What do you guys feel about takeaway tonight?". Their gleeful smiles implies a positive response to the suggestion.

You leave their room. Going downstairs you grab your phone from the living room coffee table. Scrolling through the names. You're sure you saved it... "Yes!" you exclaim. Hitting the number and placing it to your ear.

"Hello?" the voice says.

"Sam!"

"Rose?" an obvious confusion in his voice. "Is everything ok?"

"Yes. No. No its not. I just had a run in with Dean. Or I guess not Dean. Some guy called Michael"

"How long ago was this?"

"About 2 minutes ago. But hes gone now. He just- disappeared"

"Angels will do that" he pauses. "What did he say to you?"

"Something about wanting an army for a war"

"Crap"

"It sounds serious"

"That is an understatement". You hear vague chatter in the background. "Ok. I need to figure out what to do about this. You said he disapeared?"

"Vanished. One minute he was there, the next he was gone"

"By the time I get to you he'll be long gone. He could be the other side of the world by now. Shit" he mutters.

"Is there anything I can do to help?"

"No. Not at this moment. Just keep you and your children safe. And ring me if he turns up again, ok?"

"I will"

"Good"

"Hey Sam?"

"Yeah?"

"Let me know when you find him. When hes safe". He pauses for a short moment.

"I will"

"Thank you". You can hear him smile slightly.

"Bye". Clicks off. You put your phone down. Running your paint stained hands through your hair as you look around your room.

Previous / Next

TAGS

@sojuxxi

[cillianmurphysdimples]

As a parent of children with ALN, what do you do to affirm their neurodiversity? My son was diagnosed with autism and ADHD recently and I am opposed to any form of ABA which I think you said you are too. How can support and embrace his needs and differences and still be supportive and help him progress?

Heya. I bet you're feeling overwhelmed with the new diagnosis (even if you knew/suspected for a long time)? I did. I wondered if the way I'd parented before was wrong or had been harmful, causing him to mask and therefore achieving the same as ABA...

What you can do depends on your child. I have different ways of parenting my sons as they need different things.

7 is physically more capable of day to day tasks but needs clear instructions and steps. To be neurodiversity affirming and promote his independence, we use a PEC/Card system with a routine. So for example his board says... 1) take pyjamas off. 2). Put under wear on - one leg in each hole. 3) out socks on - one on each foot. 4) put trousers on - button at the front, one leg in each hole .... You get the drift. I also give 2-3 days of warning of changes wherever I can. If school holidays are coming up, I remind him from maybe the Wednesday that he won't go to school then next Monday, and do that right up until the holiday starts. I don't make promises if I can - I don't say "we will go to town tomorrow and go to the toy shop." I may say, "maybe we'll go into the toy shop in town, but we might not be able to, so if we don't go, try not to be disappointed..." And then give a reason. I also put no expectations on birthday and Christmas - his reactions to gifts and celebrations, and seeing people, can often look to others like he's moody or ungrateful, and he's really not. Unless he's super interested in a gift he received, he may not be very demonstrative, or he might look sorely upset if he didn't receive something he'd wanted but maybe not mentioned, so when his expectations aren't met it can cause upset. When this happens, again he can look "spoiled" to others, but he's genuinely getting very overwhelmed by disappointment even if he understands that maybe he didn't say, and he sometimes even knows he's (perhaps) responding in a strong way and he will say himself "I'm being silly, but ...." And explain what's going on in his head. We discuss his feelings a lot and always try to name them so he can understand them better himself. He genuinely cannot stop those big responses, and so he needs to be understood and supported, not admonished. Don't get me wrong, he can still do "naughty" things and he still needs "telling off" - he's a kid, after all. He has selective mutism so we use little Coms cards for him at school - he can show his card if he's struggling to speak, to get access to the toilet, to fetch his drink, and he has one that says he's sad and can they call me.

With 5 it's a bit different - he has very poor interoception and hasn't really got an understanding of anything internally beyond happy, sad, mad and hungry. For him, I have to help him dress, wash, brush his teeth, put on his shoes, zip his coat.... You name it. He still has incontinence issues at times, especially at home because it's his safe space. I used to get really bothered by that once he was fully continent because I didn't understand why he would come home from school dry/clean and then wet/mess 3x in 2 hours. But it's because at home he doesn't feel pressured to hide, to mask, and he completely shuts off the small section of his brain that does get it when he settles. I'm glad he has a space to be completely unmasked, but it is hard work. With his lack of interoception comes, also, a lack of empathy, a lack of understanding anyone else's feelings (he doesn't understand his own!) and also a severe lack of awareness of illness, too. He doesn't mention feeling poorly or act poorly until he has a temp of 40°c or is vomiting on his feet. He's hyperverbal z hyperlexic and has an intense special interest in sharks so we use sharks in EVERYTHING - rewards, clothes, incentives, etc. He also doesn't experience shame, embarrassment, self-consciousness, so I have to protect his dignity a lot! He is not aware of dangers either so I use a SEN pushchair in busy places, and arm strap, and constantly have to explain to him about roads and strangers.

For both boys, and as a big suggestion, EMBRACE SPECIAL INTERESTS. Feed their love. And don't feel like you're spoiling them for getting them things for their interests - their want of the items is a deep, deep longing. It isn't the same as a typical child wanting a toy just because, both my sons (and niece and nephews) have expressed deep sadness when they don't have a particular shark, or figure, or book... It's like a deep-rooted need. So if you can, allow them to collect their specials!

Don't stop, shame, mock, or discourage stims. Stimming is helpful for anxiety, it's often unstoppable too. 5 is a hand flapper and as bouncy as Tigger when he's happy - we call him Zebedee! As long as they're not hurting themselves or anyone else, let it go and join in yourself! If they're stimmy in public and there's eyes, join in! Make the silly noises, flap your hands, tap your feet.... It makes them feel seen, appreciated, and, if they feel embarrassed at all, helps alleviate that.

Be honest about their differences. If they ask, if they notice they're 'different' behaviour, or preferences, be honest and tell them it's autism/ADHD and age-appropriately explain what it is. There is no shame in their diagnoses and you should help them feel proud of themselves. We are so open about NDs in our family - 5 gets funny looks when he's in his SEN buggy, with a dummy and a snuggle blanket, and maybe hand flapping or eye tracking his toy shark. I'll say to 5 if someone comments on the dummy. "Why do you have your dummy?" Because you have...." And he'll yell at the top of his lungs. "I HAVE AN AUTISM!" and he's so proud.

I also have badges and safety keyrings - 7 has a badge on his coat that says "sometimes I struggle to speak" and a keyring on his zip with his name, then it says "autistic with selective mutism" and then my phone number. 5's says his name, "autistic and unaware of dangers" and my phone number, he also has badges on the buggy that says "please don't stop me from stimming" , "my dummy, my business" and "I am autistic - say hello." We use the sunflower lanyard for hidden disabilities, too.

Some people don't like to be open, but as a family we do.

If they needed a wheelchair, it would be immediately obvious. If they had Down's Syndrome, it would be obvious, etc etc, but because neurodiversity is often so "quiet", I do a lot of cheerful explaining. "He might not interact or give eye contact, he is autistic, please just be patient ..." You know?

God that's so long and rambled, but I hope I've helped at all? But, Mummy, just keep loving your little one. Support them, and just accommodate their needs. You're the best advocate they could have.

[peanut-butter-parkerxx]

Brushstrokes of New Orleans: 003

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⋆♱✮☽🦇☽✮♰⋆

∘₊✧─ 𝐄𝐥𝐢𝐣𝐚𝐡'𝐬 𝐏𝐎𝐕 ─✧₊∘

The moon was casting its silvery glow over the garden, I watched as Penny's eyes danced with excitement at the sight of the hidden artifacts nestled among the foliage. Her enthusiasm was infectious, her passion for art and history a beacon of light in the darkness.

But as the hour grew late and the stars began to twinkle overhead, I knew it was time for us to retire for the night. Penny had only recently moved to New Orleans for school, and there was still so much she had yet to learn about this city and its rich history.

"Penny," I said gently, my voice breaking through the quiet of the night. "I think it's time for you to get some rest. We have a lot planned for tomorrow." Penny turned to me with a smile, her eyes sparkling with anticipation. 

"But I'm not tired," she protested, her voice filled with excitement. I couldn't help but chuckle at her enthusiasm, but I knew that she needed her rest if she was going to be able to fully appreciate all that New Orleans had to offer.

"I know you're eager to explore," I replied, my voice soft but firm. "But trust me, you'll need your rest for what I have planned tomorrow."

As we strolled through the garden, the fragrance of night-blooming flowers filled the air, wrapping us in a cocoon of tranquility as we made our way back to the mansion. Despite the late hour, there was a sense of peace that settled over us. Once we reached the steps leading up to the mansion, I turned to Penny with a smile. 

"What would you like for breakfast tomorrow?" I asked, my voice filled with warmth. Penny's eyes sparkled with excitement at the prospect of a new day. 

"Hmm, how about pancakes?" she replied, her voice bubbling with enthusiasm. "With fresh fruit and a side of bacon, if that's not too much trouble." 

"Consider it done," I said, my tone playful. "I'll make sure it's ready for you first thing in the morning."

 "Goodnight, Elijah," she smiled, her voice soft with affection.

"Goodnight, Penny," I replied, returning her smile. And with that, we bid each other farewell. I couldn't shake the feeling of warmth that lingered in my chest. It was a feeling I hadn't experienced in centuries, a sense of connection that transcended time and space. But before I could dwell on it further, a familiar voice broke through the quiet of the night, sending a shiver down my spine. 

"Well, well, well, what do we have here?" Klaus's voice rang out from behind me, his tone dripping with mischief. I turned to find Klaus standing there with a smirk, his eyes alight with amusement. 

"Seems like someone's got a little crush," he teased, his grin widening at my expense. I rolled my eyes at his taunts, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a reaction. 

"Don't be ridiculous, Klaus," I replied coolly, crossing my arms over my chest. "Penny is simply a colleague, nothing more." Klaus chuckled at my denial, his laughter echoing in the stillness of the night. 

"Oh, come on, Elijah, even I can see the way you look at her," he said, his voice laced with amusement. "It's written all over your face." I shot him a withering glare, my patience wearing thin. 

"Enough, Klaus," I said firmly. "This is not the time or place for your games." But Klaus was undeterred, his grin widening as he leaned in closer. 

"You know, brother, you should be careful," he said, his tone turning serious. "Penny doesn't know the first thing about our kind, about the hatred and cruelty that comes with being a vampire." I sighed heavily at his words, knowing he spoke the truth. "I'm well aware of the dangers, Klaus," I replied, my voice tinged with resignation. "But I won't let anything happen to her. I'll protect her with my life if need be."

"Just remember, brother," he said, his voice a whisper in the night, "she's human, and we're not. No matter how much we may wish otherwise."

"I know," I said quietly, my voice barely above a whisper. "But for now, let's focus on keeping her safe."

With that, Klaus clapped me on the shoulder, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Agreed," he said, his grin returning in full force. "But let's not forget to have a little fun along the way."

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

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[hollypies]

Was finally gonna do art today but NOPE something weird is going on with my med school lab work and now I have to figure it out AND I also don't know if I'm even supposed to go tomorrow because I CANT REMEMBER IF I EVEN SIGNED UP but ALSO I HAVE ANOTHER LAB THATS THE SAME ONE IVE ALREADY DONE TWICE !!! You're only supposed to do a lab TWICE I am fully, FULLY AWARE I've done this lab twice but my shitty brain is being shitty and now everything sucks and of course my mom thinks I'm gonna have to re enroll because reasons completely out of my control but COMPLETELY in hers ffs if I make it through this week without having a complete mental break I'm gonna fucking celebrate

[dreamerwriternstargazer]

I just typed out a big rant post about being overwhelmed with work and being really irritated with the extra work that I seem to have to do now because of what I can see are quite frankly, issues of communication and a very wishy washy perspective on what our classes should be like.

But I'm not gonna post it, I deleted it, because Qadr'Allah, I am fed up, but I don't want to complain because all things considered, it's small irritations exacerbated by the fact it's coming from my parents. And some of it comes down to their lack of communication, and it feeds into frustrated feelings there. And the job is not that bad. I just need to adjust, Insha'Allah.

Just. As a note. Working at a start up, 100% true, it's chaos.

And it requires a hell of a lot of determination.

And yes my dislike of venting fully is both... I think I should be better than that and consider and be grateful for my situation, but also a bitter part of me (who sounds remarkably like my dad) says that it makes me weak or bad because I'm not just gritting my teeth and getting the hell on with it.

Fully aware that bitter part is stupid, I know that.

But I know my conscience feels ill at ease over complaining about the fact that all things considered, I've got a good gig, and this is a learning opportunity to grow and improve my skills as a teacher and I am grateful for that. Insha'Allah I can transfer these skills to another job some day so the transition to formal teaching in schools won't be as big. I'm just quite irritable and overwhelmed because there's a lot to do

I want.... to cry though, honestly. I feel... lost as to how I'm going to balance everything. I decided typing this out at least, even though it's taking up my time, helps. My time for studying was already interrupted with dealing with another work thing. *hides face in hands* I... I want to excel at my work, and my studies, but I'm so frustrated and tired of everything.

I need to cover for my co worker as she needs to go to a Janazah tomorrow, and I need to bake some cupcakes for my GCSE students tonight as tomorrow is their last lesson before half term. *takes a deep breath* I won't have time to prep a packed lunch so I'll get mum to order lunch for me tomorrow, that will make me feel a little better Insha'Allah

[project-v175]

Out on a Limb

Brutal fighting. That's what the wizarding world had succumbed to. Violence. All her life, she had only known the peace of magic. That changed when she became an apprentice at the ministry. She wanted to be an auror. She wanted to restore peace. He who shall not be named had ruined everything for her, and it needed to be set right. Nothing felt normal for her.. not until him.

___

Chapter 7: Rumors

"Well.." Alastor turned away from Venus. He began hobbling off down a dirt road.

Venus ran after him, summoning her broom to her hand as she went. "Well, what? What do you mean? That's it? Come on."

"You've got good form, girl. But your spells are repetitive and predictable. You're quick and agile, but you take too many chances. Had that been a real fight, you would've been snatched up." Alastor kept his eyes forward. He barely glanced at Venus with his magic eye.

"You can't hardly expect me to be perfect, can you?" Venus kept pace beside Alastor. She looked up at him, her eyes glistening with hope. "Show me."

"Show you what? How not to get kidnapped? Easy. Constant. Vigilance." Alastor kept moving, nearly leaving Venus behind. Even despite his injury, he kept a quick pace.

"No." Venus stamped her foot on the ground.

Alastor paused and turned to look at Venus over his shoulder, slowly. The girl - no. The young woman stared him down. She held her broom in one hand and wand in the other. Her eyes held a sense of determination Alastor hadn't seen since his school years.

"Show me how. Teach me how to do better."

Alastor stared in disbelief. For once, his expression softened. He gave Venus a wink. "Meet me back here. Tomorrow." Alastor turned away, disappearing into a cloud of gray dust.

Venus felt an excitement course through her veins. Her hands waved in front of her chest in fists. A soft squeal escaped from behind her teeth. Her feet stamped on the ground in a mismatched pattern. She took her broom and her wand, apparating away herself. The cloud of black, grey smoke flitted back and forth across the sky. She landed back at home, no longer alone on the small property. She looked up to the woman standing at the door. Her eyes creased with her wide smile.

"Molly!" Venus ran towards the woman, her arms outstretched.

Molly met Venus in the middle. She gave the younger girl a smile. The two held each other in a warm embrace as Molly patted Venus on the back. "Oh, it's good to see you again, dear. I've missed you."

"I've missed you as well, Molly. Tell me, how are the kids? How is Arthur? I haven't seen him st the ministry recently." Venus pulled away from Molly. She held Molly's shoulders firmly to keep the woman close to her.

"They're doing wonderfully. I came by to tell you some news. I meant to do so sooner, but Arthur has been so busy with raids, and someone has to take care of the kids."

"Oh my. Let's step inside. We can have some tea." Venus stepped up to the door. She unlocked the door with her keys and immediately began cleaning the place up.

Unspoken spells moved furniture and trash out of the way. All glass, tile, and relatively any signs of renovation were removed from the living room. A teapot in the kitchen was filled with water and placed on the lit stove.

"There. That's better. I apologize for that. I never.. fully moved in. I'm fixing the place up." Venus pulled a sheet off a few chairs and a table. She folded them up and put them down elsewhere for the two to sit.

"Don't worry, dear. I'm just happy to see you in one piece. Arthur says there's been quite a few rumors about 'The green eyed apprentice working with Mad Eye Moody'." Molly smirked to herself as she sat down.

Venus took a seat across from Molly, her eyebrows raised in question. "Mad Eye? Is that what they're calling Alastor now? Thats.. odd."

Venus looked to the floor, then Molly. "Wait. Rumors? What kind? If they're about.. other things.. you know, as well as i do, there is nothing going on."

"Mhm. I'm aware. But that's not what the public thinks." Molly crossed her legs, her hands placing over her knees. She kept her eyes lower to the ground.

"Molly. Nothing happened. I mean- you know me. I- I really shouldn't involve myself in human men. Its.. It's unnatural. I'm not - If i decide to go back, it would be awful on any family i decide to create. I mean, I've done so much. I've been on land so long, but i haven't forgotten.." Molly nodded in response to Venus's pleading. The two shared a sigh and brief silence.

"Do you want to tell me what happened, Venus?" Molly lifted her eyes. She watched Venus do the same. Hesitance struck the young girl in front of her. She opened her mouth to speak but closed it quickly. Venus diverted her eyes to the floor. She took a deep breath and began to recall the past week.

___

Author Note

Whoopsies. I'm gonna try and catch up this weekend, but i can't make any guarantees. Hope you enjoy this little bit here. Some banter and drama all in one chapter. That should feed you guys.

[v3ng34nc3-w4yn3]

｡⋆MY WEB SHOOTER⋆｡

veena lambert x mare torres

spiderman au!!

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:··:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

"so, your not gonna tell me your identity then?"

She brushed her fingers through her hair, Veena was a simple lady, Wake up, Go to school, Come home, Sleep. Easy as that..

Although her life had changed when a certain web slinger had saved her from a city villain.

You see, Veena's family was rich. If a villain wanted a load of cash, they'd run straight for her, taking her away or threatening her life, to her? this was a part of the daily routine now, including the part where her life is saved by a man under a mask, spiderman.

"nope! sorry! too risky!!"

She had caught on a long while ago, a very close friend of hers, Mare Torres, would vanish every moment spiderman seemed to appear.

"oh yeah? even after you've saved my life countless times?"

"I'm afraid so! that's just how it is!!"

"awh..well I'll see you at school tomorrow then, mare."

He didn't even think twice.

"haha yeah! see you tomorrow veena!! don't forget too- wait.. shit!!"

"HAH! I knew it! it is you!!"

"that's not fair! you tricked me!!"

She burst into giggles, rushing in to hug him.

"ahh! your spiderman!! THE spiderman!!!"

He huffed, awkwardly hugging her back, he was.. embarrassed, how was he supposed to keep her safe when she was now FULLY aware?

"you've saved my life! so many times!! ooh mare!!'

she immediately sunk into his arms all over again, he relaxed after a few moments, rubbing her back with his hands.

"well I had to,, you mean alot.."

he was so grateful for his mask at this moment..his cheeks were a bright red.

"..i have to give you something in return! for all the times you've saved me-"

"oh veena, please don't even worry about it- I was just doing my-"

"what if I kissed you?"

He paused, choking on his own words.

"Wh- veena- you-"

"well it's only fair!"

He was burning red, his cheeks flushed in a cherry red tone.

"I mean,, I'm not opposed to doing so.."

"hah, I was right about that too.."

"about what?"

"you want to kiss me as much as I want to kiss you."

Dear god, she drove him insane.

"oh just shut up and get over here.."

He tugged his mask off, tossing it aside and allowing her to step forward. Her hands reaching up too hold his face.

"..hi handsome,,"

He couldn't help but smile, chuckling to himself, she was sweet, She was even sweeter when she was kissing him.

Her hands resting on his chest, his own hands wrapping around her torso. Her finger tips tapping against his chest, following the rhythm of his heart.

This definitely was his favorite 'thank you' gift.

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:··:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

After a while, Mare decided to drop her home, despite her protesting.

"c'mon!! it's still light outside!!"

"sweetheart, your walking fish bait for criminals.."

She pouted, visibly upset by his decision.

”hey, come on, don't look at me like that.."

She stood her ground, veena was not budging.

Mare simply sighed, lifting his mask off and leaning down to kiss her, although she tried her hardest, the blush on her cheeks was obvious.

"better? now come on, you might be crazy rich but you have homework to do! I'm not letting you copy mine!!"

"it's not my fault Mr. Nine sets a shitload of homework.."

"maybe there wouldn't be a 'shitload' if you did the homework.."

"I do the homework!!! when I want too.."

Unfortunately for veena, money and bribery wouldn't get her out of Mr. Nine's detentions.

"..if you do it, I'll take you on a date tomorrow, deal?"

She didn't even need to think, she immediately dashed over to grab her bag and find the homework folder.

Mare chuckled, she may be a little snappy sometimes but she was a softie at heart, a softie for him.

She made her way back to the window, smiling at him.

"..you gotta seal your deal with a kiss,,"

He grinned sheepishly, leaning down for another kiss.

"Yeah but now I really have to go..I'll see you at school tomorrow..get some good rest too,,"

"I will, I'll dream about you, since you're my hero n all.."

She blew him a kiss as he swung off, immediately rushing over to collapse on her bed, giggling and kicking her feet in the air, he was a hero.

He was her hero.

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:··:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

i might make a second part to this?? i love these two sm ♡︎

♡︎｡⋆✮⋆｡♡︎｡⋆✮⋆｡♡︎｡⋆✮⋆｡♡︎｡⋆✮⋆｡♡︎｡⋆✮⋆｡♡︎｡⋆✮⋆｡♡︎

[quinloki]

omg it's so hard to be a responsible adult and not stay up and have my little daydreams while I listen to music xD and I unfortunately have to work tomorrow since our company doesn't consider it a holiday T_T I'm glad I could send you something in return to kill you bc you always kill me <333

I think I can officially say I got the sabo brainrot, damn (jk)

omg okay so I was also thinking how you'd meet ace and I'm like duh school a man like whitebeard would prolly want his sons to go out and experience the world especially if they're running a major business! and I'm like omg imagine ace in college it opens up so many dumb shenanigans that you both have so much dirt on eachother and you really give him a good wack when you find everything out because you overlooked so much it made you mad! like ace would always treat for meals or drinks and you obvi talked about his job after college, but he never mentioned WHERE he was going to work in a mailroom!! or that it was his dad's company!! that bastard

lolol and for some (mild) tension you meet shanks and he is just like heavyyyyyy flirting and izou finds it hilarous how annoyed sabo and marco look (and pops is like leave my future daughter in law alone xDDDD)

the tension in that hotel room after everyone is aware of the shower xD throw in a little bickering over who should sleep where, bc obvi you're so shaken up right? and they argue over who's bed you should sleep in so they can comfort you >>

the polycule would be interesting I won't lie idk how the dynamics with those two in particular would be tho bc honestly they give me such similar vibes sometimes. I mean I read sabo/reader/ace sometimes but ace is a puppy dog so it's a different dynamic >>

I could picture like, sabo does the more dangerous work, so you're officialy dating marco the ceo and you get dressed up and go to events with him but sometimes his little brother offers to take you home bc you're soooo tired from interacting with all those business peeps and sabo is just such a good younger brother to take care of his bro's girlfriend such a gentleman (nvm that you're going back to sabo's room and not marco's) like rather than a poly they just both share bc you couldn't pick they're just both too good IDK MAN I JUST WANT THEM BOTH SO BAD T_T

ok but the riskiest part of being the weakness is the fact that pops basically parades you around and calls you his daughter in law and nobody can figure out exactly what it is that got him to favor you so much but you run with it when you need to (like when ace/luffy are being a little shit)

also random thought before anyone officially starts dating, you start going to events with ace bc you get hired for the company or something (maybe ceo's secretary >> since ace is gonna be the boss someday!!) and people just assume you're dating and when pops calls you the daughter in law they're like oh congrats to the lovely couple and you both just look at eachother disgusted bc ew, no (like you'd also rather lick his face than anything romantic bc you've seen him eat food off a bar floor and other disgusting habits and absolutely not) and then everyone is just confused (incoming shanks flirting at that moment sounds perfect xD) then you realize getting called the daughter in law means pops has some idea of what's going on and now you have to figure how much and how mortified you should be

So there's a comic out there called something like Him & Him & Him, that's basically a girl and three guys (an uncle and twin nephews), and it's porn with a dash of plot, but I like the way it was done. That comic makes me think of what Sabo x Marco x Reader would be.

Which, to make it concise, in the comic, the lady marries the uncle legally, but all of them live together, and it's like you were saying "Oh what a good brother he is, looking out for Marco's fiance like that."

So yes, yes I like that head canon very much. We were going to split this into two different Pick One endings, but fully polycule works too.

It certainly turns into Two Against One though, cause in this situation the reader is the puppy dog >.>

Gods the kink and dynamics I could explore....

heck, Kaz, HECK I already have plenty to work on but this is killing me. Marco brainrot is real, and Sabo is just rushing the gates I swear, and now all this - ALL THIS DELICIOUS chatter and idea swapping and head canoning and world building KAZ I NEED TO WRITE THIS.

The world can blame you, I'm making notes, it's going into the primary rotation. I'll finishing Birds of a Feather and put this in its spot and I hope you're happy (affectionate).

I love the secretary idea too and the misunderstandings XD

And I think Pops likes the reader because she's a capable fighter, and not afraid to defend people, and also his sons want to protect her and he's like "Yeah, no, I get it." but less romantic and more "This smol creature reminds me of Ace and I love them both." sort of thing XD

[mamamittens]

WELP, Christmas was nice! Great to see my brother again and I collected all the animal crossing museum shit except the art pieces but that's not something I can force without an excessive amount of effort so like, I'm good lol

Ah, hopefully I can gather the energy to do an event piece tomorrow. Orders slowed down and we get out at our normal time so I guess we'll have to see. There's hope yet I'll finish them all before 2024 lol

Ramble time, you know the drill lmao

So, there's a fun thing I used to experience often when I actually left my house where I was typically mistaken for a guy. A younger, possibly cute guy if that hilarious encounter in highschool is any indication (I'm a bit blind to my own level of attractiveness, not going to lie, which is a pretty big step up from hating it.... Anyway!)

Something about my relaxed posture, baggy hoodie, and short hair. Not entirely sure, but it is impressive given the fact that I've had a considerable bust size since early high school. I assume they never looked closely at my side profile lol

Anyway! It would be fun to adapt that a tad for Nikia, but more cause with that devil fruit able to adjust her size. I imagine she'd have an easier time taking a leadership role while presenting more masculine, even if it's incidental. Especially since she's not typically confrontational.

The change isn't something she needs to hold onto, thankfully, but it is more relaxing to settle into her natural form. So there's no danger of her forgetting what she actually looks like. Usually reserved for when she's locked into her cabin for snowstorms alone. Curling up in her freshly preened wings.

Her usual 'work mode' appearance is smaller bust (less weight jostling about during motion, did you know that you can break your collar bone with sufficiently sized tits when running? Horrifying), taller, and snapping open her natural wingspan when she wants to cut an argument short. It tends to scare the shit out of people when paired with an RBF and her wings going from little cherub size to dwarfing her frame in a fraction of a second (steam slipping from her teeth from the sudden change).

Hella whiplash when she uses her customer service voice. Really freaks people out more and she abuses this to throw people off when they're being difficult.

Unfortunately, with her own cabin and few reasons to socialize with people, her social skills get pretty rusty. Including the habit she usually has of exaggerating her expressions to clarify her intent or communicate. She still does it, but not as often as she should, so she's left faltering a little when people act negatively to her when she's trying to lighten the mood. She means well though, she's just not big on strangers being around her a lot.

This difficulty expressing and communicating emotions also unfortunately means that she has a hard time controlling her temper when it finally runs loose. Often getting overwhelmed and crying before shutting down. Obviously, she prefers to avoid this when possible, so tries to maintain a chill attitude that skews towards permissive. Mostly by accident.

This attentiveness towards her temper is also why she doesn't typically participate in competitive incidents as she's aware that her attitude is less than favorable during these events. Her difficulty with a social filter can often lead to her saying very harsh things without thinking.

All this leads to quite the unexpected series of events leading up to Marineford, as she doesn't fully trust herself to go rouge, doesn't believe she was the right to handle Teach, and struggles to cope with the (perceived) loss.