#Sandman Femslash Weekend

[seiya-starsniper]

New little thing I'm working on for Femslash Weekend and hopefully also for a square Monsterfucktober Bingo :3

“I am a failure,” Gault laments, feeling despair not unlike what she herself would inspire in dreamers when she was still a nightmare. “It was hubris for me to assume that because I could create a beautiful dream for one dreamer, that I could inspire them all.” “You are not a failure, Gault,” Lucienne replies, her tone gentle and yet stern enough to shock Gault out of her melancholy reverie. “You had spent multiple millennia as a nightmare, and barely a century as a dream. Lord Morpheus would not have remade you so if he truly believed you could not change.”  “He didn’t when he unmade me,” Gault snaps back, old hurts rising to the surface. This anger is familiar, comfortable, like an old coat. A coat that had long ago worn itself threadbare. But it is all she had known before, and she cannot let it go so easily. “He told me a nightmare could never successfully become a dream.” “And then he changed his mind,” Lucienne says. “Because he realized he had changed, and so have you.”

tagging my gaulcienne bestie @tryan-a-bex and @orionsangel86 for the inspo, looking forward to your meta!!

[bazzybelle]

Lend Me Your Wings - 1.7K - Teen - Lucienne/Gault

For Sandman FemSlash Weekend - Day 1: Bad Luck

Hello!

I am so excited to be participating in this FemSlash Weekend! It's been a lot of fun to put my brain into writing so many different characters!

Everyday will have a new pairing, beginning with Lucienne and Gault!

Thank you to the Mods of this wonderful event. You guys are awesome! I cannot wait to read the fics that come out of these weekend.

Did I copy this from my AO3 post? Yes... Yes I did because I am tired and I get up at 5:30. xD

You can read the story by clicking the link, or by clicking the Keep Reading bar below.

Click here for the Story on AO3

There are certain truths that are known amongst the inhabitants of the Dreaming. That one should do best to steer clear of the Houses of Mysteries and Secrets, especially if their masters are engaging in a friendly game of brotherly homicide; That the weather can suddenly shift from bright and sunny to thunderous and stormy. It is most wise to seek immediate shelter in that case, and wait out the storm as best you can. Perhaps the most important truth of them all, is that no one, absolutely no one does their job better than Lucienne, Librarian of the Dreaming, and right-hand to the Lord of Dreams. 

Lucienne, the first of the Dream Lord’s loyal Ravens, knows everything there is to know about the inner workings of the Realm of Dreams. She administers and organizes the daily tasks within the Palace, as well as keeping the Library in perfect shape. This has been her function, ever since she retired several millennia ago, and she loves it. She takes great care to ensure that everything runs perfectly and precisely; that not a single book is kept out of order, and that any and all major concerns are brought to the attention of the Dream Lord (emphasis on major ) (Mervyn’s many complaints about the quality of his broom bristles is of no concern to Lord Morpheus) (no matter how tetchy the pumpkinhead feels). 

Point is, she is good at what she does. It’s something she is very proud of. She is not one to get easily rattled by a small inconvenience. She had kept the Realm together as best as she could during Lord Morpheus’ absence. She was forced to watch, powerless, as her beloved Library disappeared, one book at a time. When those around her abandoned their posts, she stayed. She remained steadfast in her loyalty, certain that one day things would be set to rights. 

And she was right . 

She is confident and certain in her abilities. Which is why, when things don’t turn out the way she expects, she is normally able to take a deep breath, and work around said problems. She is able to make lists of tasks to be done, and fix whatever needs to be fixed. And while her Lord is tempestuous and mercurial at best , she has long earned his trust and respect. That fact makes her one of the very few who are able to question the Dream Lord on his decisions, and even advise him on matters. 

Still, there are days, and these are very few and far between, where everything seems to go wrong, and no matter  how hard she tries, there is nothing Lucienne can do to fix anything. Those are the days where her need for everything to be perfect affect her in a negative way. Those are the days where the weight of her position bears heavily on her shoulders. Whenever this happens, there is but one place where Lucienne wishes to go. 

The valleys and fields of Fiddler’s Green have always been remarkable. Lucienne can remember days where she would soar through the sky, the Green’s winds softly caressing her feathers. She can recall when the Green was created as a place for travelers to rest their weary heads. With the soft grass, and shady trees, the smell of fresh wildflowers blossoming all around, Lucienne often finds comfort here, allowing the soft breeze to embrace her. 

There is, however, another reason why Lucienne has recently enjoyed spending time amongst the rolling green glades. The reason is fluttering high above her, bright and lively, and beautiful as the first time she saw her. Her wings are different today, large and powerful, like the wings of a moth. They shift in between colors of black and indigo blue, with a white dotted pattern on them, as well as a stark white stripe. 

Lucienne smiles to herself. It seems Gault has chosen to imitate the apatura iris , or the purple emperor moth. Very curious that she’s chosen to present the wings of the male moth this time. If Gault comes down to say hello, maybe she’ll ask her. They’ve been becoming more comfortable with each other, ever since she was remade as a dream , often having discussions about her new role and the ways in which she’s been inspiring dreamers and spreading hope for a better change. 

For a moment, she allows herself to watch as Gault soars through the air, her beautiful wings catching the sunlight and reflecting different shades of bright purple and indigo blue. 

She is… remarkable. 

Not too long ago, if you were to ask Lucienne what she thought of Gault, she would state —in a rather determined way— that Gault was one of the Nightmares she trusted least. She would tell you that Gault’s very nature as a shapeshifter makes her dishonest and conniving. She would tell you to be on your toes around Gault, for you never know if what she says (or does) is coming from a place of good intentions. 

What she would not tell you, is that the basis of her distrust towards Gault comes from the uncertainty of her feelings towards the Nightmare. Lucienne, always so certain and sure of everything around her, would take one look at Gault, and be hit with a feeling she could not name. One smile on her galaxy-shifting lips would leave Lucienne without words. 

And she did not like that. 

When Lord Morpheus disappeared, prompting several denizens to leave, Lucienne didn’t stand in Gault’s way when she followed. It was in her nature after all as a Nightmare, a shapeshifter no less, to change loyalties whenever it suited her. 

Lucienne is glad to say she no longer feels that way. What she should have done was face her feelings long ago, and accepted that maybe they were trying to tell her something. She chuckles to herself, thinking that for how often she is able to give good advice to her Lord and her friends, she certainly has a difficult time following it herself. 

Gault spots her staring, and Lucienne is rewarded for her troubles with a wide smile. Gault’s galaxies are brighter now, flashes of pink swirling on her body, mixed with her deep purples and dark indigos. 

A flash of change, Lucienne thinks. A change for the better, perhaps. 

“Was hoping to see you today,” Gault calls out, as she lands gracefully beside Lucienne. She truly has taken to her new form like a fish to water. 

Maybe this was who she was meant to be from the moment of her creation. 

“Were you now?” 

One of Gault’s wings flutters a little before she spins, showing off the full extent of her radiance. Lucienne can feel her cheeks heating, and she turns her head a fraction away to hide the deepening flush on her face. 

“I wanted to know what you thought? I have a new charge whose dreams I shall be looking after, and I want to make sure they are appropriate.”

Lucienne stands up and slowly takes a step towards Gault. She holds out her hand, a silent permission to feel, to touch . Gault takes her hand and places it softly on her right wing. It is slightly cold to the touch, but also somewhat grainy. Tiny flecks of indigo glitter swirl around her fingers where they’ve made contact. The wing twitches beneath her fingertips, causing Lucienne to giggle in surprise. Gault beams, delighted in Lucienne’s reaction, and she finds herself taking a small step back, and clearing her throat. 

“You look beautiful, as always,” she says with a small smile on her face. 

Gault flutters her wings, causing more glitter to flow around them. “ Apatura iris. Typically the male moth displays the purple colours on his wings.” She wanders to the tree and touches the bark. “My charge is at a crossroads, as I once was. They are unhappy in how they look and present themselves.” She smiles to herself, brushing her hand up and down the tree’s bark. “They also build sanctuaries for moths, and have made it their life’s goal to conserve and educate the world about these wonderful little creatures.”

“So they would know your intention with your wings,” Lucienne whispers, daring to place her hand over Gault’s. She freezes, but it’s only for a split second, before turning her hand over and closing her fingers over Lucienne’s. 

“That’s the hope, I suppose. That one may present themselves in any way they choose. One may choose the path that makes them the happiest they can be.” 

“Like you did,” Lucienne says, running her thumb over Gault’s knuckles. She feels a little cool, yet with a slightly warm pulse flowing beneath her skin. Her hand is soft, yet also strong. Gault is powerful but also loves without the fear of being vulnerable. 

“Like I did,” Gault says, finally turning to look at Lucienne. Her dark eyes are almost sparkling. Lucienne could spend hours exploring the shades and lines of Gault’s eyes. Their hands remain interlocked. A bridge between the two. 

“And are you? The happiest you can be?” Lucienne whispers. 

Gault lifts her other hand, up to Lucienne’s face, and trails the backs of her fingers ever so gently over one of her cheeks. Lucienne’s eyes drift closed as she shifts her head closer to their point of contact. 

“Almost,” she says, turning Lucienne’s face once more towards her. Her breath catches in her throat as soft lips press against hers. She sighs, tilting her head slightly. A silent permission for Gault to continue. 

She does. Letting go of Lucienne’s hand in order to wrap around her waist and pull her flush against her body. 

Gault’s lips are so soft, and like the rest of her, slightly cool to the touch. She tastes like… Sky , her brain supplies. Like the crisp of meadow and autumn leaves. Like a distant memory of wind beneath her own wings. 

“Will you dare to fly with me, dearest Lady?”

“I am no Lady—”

“You are. To me.”

A soft touch of cool fingertips beneath her chin, and Lucienne is looking into Gault’s eyes once more. To such fondness and love that she does not recall ever seeing before. Not in anyone else’s eyes. 

And she was fine . She was . In her Library with her books, and her duties and everything, she was fine . 

But as she spent more time with Gault, knowing her, seeing her. Maybe it’s time that Lucienne tries a change for herself. 

She reaches up and places her hand over Gault’s, giving it a small squeeze. 

“Then let us fly away.”

[rriavian]

I really wanted to finish my (two!) sandman femslash fics before my holiday but though they aren’t complete I still wanted to post something. The event has been really great fun and the mods are incredible. So check out @sandmanfemslashfans if you haven’t already :) there’s some really cool stuff there!

Hope you enjoy this really tiny snippet of the Lyta/Johanna fic I’m working on. It’s really really rough so apologies! This fic is for the prompt ‘Meet Cute’

-

Lyta turns to her. “How’d you meet him? This ‘King of Dreams’?”

An apartment.

Jo remembers entering a dream. She remembers how it ended, with Rachel dead, with Rachel dead and it had been Jo’s fault. Her bloody fault. Always her bloody fault. It’s what’s been quietly simmering in the background, the truth of how there is something familiar in this woman’s story. The story of reuniting with a lover in a dream. Of wanting to stay with them and being unable to, of fighting reality with everything you had just to kiss them one last time, of having to realise that eventually you must wake up.

Lyta grimaces.

“Sorry.”

“Nah you’re good.” Jo shrugs as if that will make this topic seem casual. “It’s only fair. He didn’t hurt her, just so you know. He just couldn’t save her.”

Sometimes that feels like the same thing.

Jo doesn’t know why she’s defending him. Perhaps she’s got a soft spot for pouty skinny wankers when she knows they’re far kinder than they seem. Perhaps she wants to believe that she’s not going to have to try—and fail, Jo always always seems to fail—to fight him, to prevent him from taking Lyta Hall’s baby. Perhaps Jo is tired, so damn tired, of walking away unscathed while those she seeks to protect lose everything.

Perhaps she doesn’t want to betray yet another woman’s trust.

[lightdancer1]

Last of the Femslash Weekend stories up:

[meadowziplines]

a meet-ugly ConstantDeath (Johanna/Death) fic for @sandmanfemslashfans 's Sandman Femslash Weekend! This fills October 13 :)

Getting kidnapped and nearly sacrificed by a death cult is a strange way to score a date with Death of the Endless, but Johanna's not complaining. Okay, actually, she is, a lot, at least until she meets Death.

[karalynlovescake]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Batman - All Media Types, The Sandman (Comics), The Sandman (TV 2022) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Delirium of the Endless/Poison Ivy/Harley Quinn Characters: Delirium of the Endless, Pamela Isley, Harleen Quinzel Additional Tags: Polyamory, Established Relationship, Cuddling, brief descriptions of violence, references to crime, References to Drug Use, all batman lore should be taken with a grain of salt because it is all ridiculous, Aspec Poison Ivy, mild non-explicit sexual references, The Endless do not run on human concepts of morality, This is fluff, but it's the weirdest fluff I've ever written Summary:

When you're in an odd three-way relationship with the anthropomorphic personification of delight and delirium, you don’t get to choose your own pet names.

My first of two fic for the Sandman Femslash weekend! Happy Friday the 13th to me. 

I feel like I managed to pack a lot in 1300 words for this one and am now invested in this ship.

[zorawitch]

see I WAS going to do a desunity oneshot for the sandman femslash weekend because another of my fics contributed to the creation of desunity as a recognized tag, but you see it is simply not a oneshot anymore

[orionsangel86]

Sorry I've dropped the ball on Sandtober the past few days! Life got in the way but I am going through and will be posting the next masterpost for the past few days very soon! I love all your latest creations! Hope everyone is ready for Sandman Femslash Weekend too!!!

[bazzybelle]

Where Does The Good Go? - 2.7K - Teen - Jessamy/Rose Walker

For Sandman FemSlash Weekend - Day 3: Night Out

Here is my final fic for FemSlash Weekend. Thank you to the betas @sandmanfemslashfans for putting this together. It was so much fun stretching my brain, and honestly this was my absolute favourite pairing to write.

Has anyone else written a side fic to an unpublished WIP? Because that's exactly what I'm doing. I've been working on a Grey's Anatomy AU fic for the last couple of months and both Jessamy and Rose appear as side characters. While writing that fic, I had a LOT of fun writing Rose and Jessamy. They both managed to take on stronger roles within the fic.

When I decided I wanted to take part in this FemSlash Weekend, I thought it would be fun to include a side fic to that WIP. And since it's a Grey's Anatomy fic, I had to write a different version of Meredith and Derek. You know... One Night Stand ends up being your boss, but you can't keep away from each other?

This is intended to just be their first meeting, but I REALLY liked this pairing, so I dunno, maybe I'll write more. They'll definitely show up in my Grey's AU, so I'm excited about that.

This fic is unbeta-ed. Them's the breaks I suppose.

Also, this is apparently the first fic with this pairing so high-five to me! Let's see if this train gets rolling!

The title of the fic is from the Tegan and Sara song "Where Does The Good Go?" If you know, you know.

You can read the story by clicking the link, or by clicking the Keep Reading bar below.

Click here for the Story on AO3

She has no idea what she’s doing here. 

Barbie had suggested that coming out tonight would be good for her. After the year she’d had, she needed a night to let loose and forget about everything. And normally, Rose would agree. Thing is, she’s supposed to start her surgical internship tomorrow. And yes, she was top of her class and got outstanding recommendations from her professors and whatnot, but no one really cares about that if you end up showing up late and hungover on your first day. 

No amount of recommendations will help if she ends up killing a patient due to her carelessness. Not to mention the utter shame she’d bring to the medical community. Imagine, the granddaughter of the Unity Kincaid —first woman of colour to head her own surgical department, that Unity Kincaid— kicked out of the surgical program that Dr. Kincaid helped to start. 

And it’s not like she grew up with this hanging over her head. Rose’s mother was put up for adoption and everything was kept extremely confidential. Rose’s choice to go into medicine was complete happenstance. No, she had found out about her prestigious heritage while looking for her estranged brother, Jed. 

In fact, finding Jed was what led her to move to Seattle, back to where her grandmother set up roots and burst through any and all glass ceilings that threatened to keep her down. Rose had spent most of her young adult life searching for her brother, with each lead coming up empty. It was only when she was approached by a lawyer for the Estate of the Late Doctor Unity Kincaid where she was able to find her brother, and learn about her grandmother. 

Go figure, the woman she had learned about as a young medical student and looked up to, would be her grandmother. 

After a long plane ride from Boston, a tearful reunion with her brother, and endless months of litigation, Rose was left with a sizable inheritance —which she put right into paying her student loans— as well as her grandmother’s cozy house. Jed was given an impressive inheritance as well, left in trust until he turned 25. The siblings moved into the house together, along with Barbie, Rose’s childhood friend who had come with her. 

Before everything, Rose had been planning on doing her internship at The Brigham. She was one of the first to be accepted, and she had to leave at the last moment. Luckily for her, Saint Anthony’s was beyond ecstatic to have Unity Kincaid’s granddaughter enter their surgical program, even if it was a last minute acceptance. 

She did deserve this night, who was she kidding? She was about to start a brand new chapter of her life, with a brand new sense of who she is and where she came from. After tonight, she would have to work hard in order to live up to her grandmother’s name. 

“Tequila shots!” 

Rose is pulled out of her inner thoughts by Barbie slamming two shots in front of her. She grimaces. Tequila does not agree with her at all. In fact, she had made a few mistakes due to over indulging on tequila back in school. 

“You can’t be serious, Bar.” 

“Oh, you know I am. This is how we’re gonna get you to loosen up a little.” 

“Not happening. I am not responsible for my actions after tequila. Remember New Year’s Eve, 2016?”

Barbie laughs, “New Year’s Eve, 2016 was amazing. I wonder if MIT Princess still has nightmares of that party.”

“Her name was Candice, and I doubt it.” 

Barbie shrugs, pushing one of the shot glasses closer to her. Rose sighs, defeated, and picks up the glass, pretending to inspect it. 

“Rose, it’s not poison.”

Rose rolls her eyes. May as well get this over with. The faster she humors Barbie, the faster she can call it a night and head back to the house. She takes a deep breath and knocks back the drink, coughing as it burns her throat. 

She hates tequila. 

“Happy now?” she chokes out, to Barbie’s amusement. Barbie, to Rose’s frustration, is able to knock back her shot without any difficulty, and Rose very much hates her for it. Barbie is one of those people who can drink alcohol like it’s water. 

“You know I am. As much as I wish we could be doing back to back shooters at the bar, I do know that you have to be a badass surgeon tomorrow, so I won’t be pushing things, I promise.”

“Ok, first of all, I am far from being a badass anything. I’m just an intern. They’ll probably have me doing non-stop sutures and running labs. I’ll be lucky if I see the inside of an operating room in my first year.”

Barbie sighs, giving Rose a light punch in her shoulder. “You do not give yourself nearly enough credit. You are so smart and capable. Once they see how incredible you are, these hot-shot surgeons will be fighting to get you working with them.”

Rose scoffs, sipping on her water. Her eyes wander to the other patrons of the bar, wondering if any of them will be working with her tomorrow. Her eyes happen to catch a young woman talking and laughing in a small group of young adults. She’s got a wide smile and a loud laugh, big eyes shining bright underneath the bar lights. 

She’s really pretty, Rose thinks. She’s short and curvy, with dark olive skin and thick, dark hair. She’s wearing a bright red button-up top, silky, from the way it catches the light. It’s tucked into a pair of dark leather pants. 

“Rose? Did you hear what I said?”

Rose snaps her head away from the smiling woman, and back to Barbie. “Huh? Uh— something about me being talented?”

She’s not impressed. “Not even close.”  Barbie nudges closer to Rose, and looks out into the crowded bar. “Spill. Who caught your eye?”

“We are not doing this—”

“Why not? What’s the problem with an innocent little flirt?”

“I am not flirting with some random person in a bar. Especially not right before my new job. It’s a recipe for disaster?”

Barbie stretches over, in order to get a better look at the small group. Rose looks away, sipping her water faster, and hoping to hide her face away from her overly-involved friend. 

“Well, they are a rather attractive group, aren’t they? Maybe I’ll go over and say hello.”

Panic grips Rose. Once Barbie gets an idea in her head, it’s impossible to convince her to let something go. And the last thing she wants is her friend doing her best to play wing-man. She means well, and Rose knows this, but it’s so embarrassing. And they aren’t in high school anymore. The days of giggling over crushes are long gone. Rose reaches over to stop her, but Barbie is already out of her seat and sauntering towards them. 

She groans and watches Barbie chatting with the group. It amazes Rose how easily Barbie is able to talk to people and fit into a group conversation. Rose finds herself to be shy and awkward, and has what her friends call “med school sociability”. The level of social intelligence one has after having spent most of their life studying and working, without having much time for an active social life. 

Rose can’t watch this anymore. She gets up from her seat and heads over to the bar. Hopefully the bartender will have some mercy on her. She orders a gin and ginger ale and sits in silence, thinking about the thousand things she needs to do at home. Making lists in her mind helps calm her down when she feels overwhelmed. 

“May I sit here?”

Rose whips her head and nearly falls out of her seat. Jesus, she’s more beautiful in person. Her dark hair falls in thick curls down her back. A stark, white streak cuts through the front, as well as over her left eyebrow. 

Speaking of her eyebrows, they are thick and perfectly shaped, arching nearly severely over deep, hooded eyes. Eyes the color of coal and yet bright and warm at the same time. 

“Um. Y-yes—Yes.,” she stammers, quickly turning away and taking a generous gulp of her drink.

The beautiful woman flashes a wide smile, and Rose is instantly caught. “Thank you.,” she says in a soft accent that Rose cannot really place. “I was losing my mind over there. I love my friends, but once they start with their life problems, I have to leave them to their devices.”

Rose nods along, enjoying listening to the woman talk. She’s got a rather loud voice, one that Rose imagines would have no difficulty commending a room. Rose wonders what line of work she does, and if she had to learn to be loud. Or maybe she was always this way. Maybe she’s loud, and happy, and incredibly beautiful all on her own. 

Rose thinks of herself, and how she’s quiet and unsure. Nothing at all like the Barbies or the beautiful women in this world. 

God, did Barbie annoy this poor woman? Rose hopes not. The last thing anyone needs on their night out is some random person trying to play matchmaker for their lame friend. 

“I apologize for my friend,” she says. 

The woman, having ordered her own drink (a dry Martini— of course she’s classy as well), turns back to where Barbie is still chatting up her group of friends.  “Oh? The pretty blonde?” She asks, pointing her thumb towards them. “She was rather entertaining. You should have seen the way one of my friends stiffened up when she approached us. I swear, the man means well, but he’s impossible in social situations.”

Rose smiles into her drink, taking another sip. “I can relate. I’m—I’m awful with new people.”

The woman studies her, her large, dark eyes taking Rose in, considering her for a moment. She eats one of the Martini olives, still smiling at her. “I find that hard to believe.”

“What gives you that idea?”

The woman leans closer to her, placing an elbow on the bar top and resting her head on her hand. Rose watches as she slowly plays with the olive pit in her mouth, wondering what it would be like to taste her. Would she taste bitter like the olive? Dry like her Martini? Or maybe she would just taste sweet? Like cherry slush, or bubblegum. “Because we’ve been chatting for a bit, and you have yet to tell me to fuck off.”

Rose laughs. “Maybe I’m just polite,” she says. 

It’s not because she’s just polite. 

The beautiful woman knows that too. “Maybe. Maybe you find me easy to talk to,” she says, playing with Rose’s coaster. Her nails are cut short, and painted in a blood red nail polish. 

“Pretty presumptuous of you,” says Rose, placing her hand beside the woman’s. The woman gazes down at Rose’s own indigo nail polish, and Rose is thankful that she took the time earlier today to paint her nails. 

“I have been told that I tend to assume I know everyone’s story.” The woman runs the tip of her pinky over Rose’s nails. Her lips match the blood red of her nails. Her lashes, long and thick, practically brush the tops of her cheeks. Cheeks that are round and rosy.  

Rose smiles, leaning in even closer to the woman. “I don’t really have a story. I’m just a girl in a bar,” she says, taking another sip of her drink. 

“Hmm. So am I. I’m Jessamy,” she says, placing her hand over Rose’s.

“Rose,” she says, not moving her hand away. Maybe it’s the alcohol talking, but Jessamy’s hand feels so nice right now. It’s warm, yet a little rough. Kind of like Jessamy uses her hands for a living. For a moment, Rose imagines that Jessamy is a surgeon like herself. Maybe she is also looking for a night where she doesn’t have to think or worry.

Maybe they can just be two girls in a bar. Nothing else. 

“So what brings you here, Rose?” Jessamy asks, thumb brushing over Rose’s knuckles. 

Rose turns her hand over, feeling the weight of Jessamy’s palm against her own. She wonders, if she meets her again in a year, will her own hands feel as rough? Will hours spent in labs and practice change her?  “Recently moved to Seattle. Starting a new job. Friend thought I needed a night to just let go of all my stress.” 

Jessamy’s eyes remain hooked on Rose, absorbing every word she has to say. It’s been par for the course for the interaction they’ve been having so far. And… It's nice. It’s so nice to have someone completely interested in everything you have to say. 

“And?”

“And, what?”

“Is it working?” Jessamy asks, giving Rose’s hand a squeeze, still looking deep into her eyes. 

And God help her, they are so beautiful. 

“I— I mean—”

Jessamy leans a little closer, and Rose herself is drawn into her pull. Almost as if she has her in a thrall. One that she’d gladly accept (she’s read vampire novels) (Team Rosalie).  

Jessamy casually slips out of her stool and moves closer to Rose, entering her space, but still leaving a small opening for her to leave should she wish to. 

Rose does not wish to leave. 

“Because I find that talking to a really pretty girl is the best way to destress. In fact,” Jessamy places a hand on Rose’s waist. She leans in close, her mouth inches from Rose’s ear. Jessamy’s hair tickles Rose’s neck. She smells so good. Like peaches and vanilla. “I can think of a few other ways to help you destress,” she whispers, her breath tickling a soft spot beneath Rose’s ear. 

Rose shifts in her seat, ready to give in. She turns her head, but Jessamy is already leaning away, a playful smile on her face. 

“If that’s what you’d like, of course.” Jessamy glances quickly at Rose’s lips, her own tongue slowly dragging across her bottom lip. 

Fuck it.

Rose reaches out and cups Jessamy’s face in her hands. She pulls her into a deep kiss. Jessamy moans into the kiss, immediately opening her mouth, granting Rose to finally taste her. It is exactly as Rose had imagined. The bitter taste of the olives lingers on her tongue, as well as a slight sweet taste. Like strawberries. 

Rose feels Jessamy’s hands at the back of her neck, desperate to bring her even closer. She moves her hands towards Jessamy’s hair. Rose moans as she threads her fingers through soft, thick locks of beautiful dark curls. 

Christ, she’s definitely going to have to thank Barbie for dragging her out tonight. Best wing woman ever. 

Rose moves to Jessamy’s jaw, gently nibbling at her soft skin. Jessamy gasps, and shivers under Rose’s touch. She laughs, her hand tightening around a nice chunk of Jessamy’s curls. 

“Shall we continue this at my place? It’s very close,” Rose whispers into Jessamy’s neck, before placing a soft kiss. 

Jessmay sighs deep, leaning her head closer to Rose’s shoulder. “Sounds like a plan.” She lifts her head, gazing into Rose’s eyes. “ Will your friend be alright?” she asks. 

Rose chuckles. “If I know her, she’s probably long gone, after having verified that you’re not some sort of serial killer.”

Just to be safe, Rose glances over her shoulder to make sure that, yes, Barbie is long gone. Most likely she is back home, having ensured that Rose could have as much privacy as she can, considering living with two room mates. 

She’s the best.

But right now, Rose has a gorgeous woman hanging off of her, ready to continue their interesting conversation somewhere more comfortable. 

“Great friend you got there,” Jessamy says, nibbling Rose’s shoulder. 

Fuck, but she will be the end of her, won’t she. Thank God, this will be a one time thing, because Rose already knows that she will not be able to handle spending more time with this woman. She can already see herself falling head over heels. 

One time. One wonderful night before the next chapter of Rose’s life begins. Before she says goodbye to careless one-night stands and beautiful women who smell like peaches. 

“The very best,” Rose says, grabbing hold of Jessamy’s hand, and leading her out into the cool night.

[tryan-a-bex]

Oh no I have gotten behind in sharing my new ficlets. They are for femslash weekend ( @violetoftheendless @thesandwomen ) and monsterfucktober ( @seiya-starsniper ) (still pretty gen/fade to black though) (485-1093 words).

Og ghost story, inspired by tumblr (ghost)

Lucienne and Titania, bdsm (fae)

Death and Johanna (eldritch horrors)

Jed and Gault at first, then Gaulcienne. (Dragon)

Chantal and Zelda (arthropod)

[arialerendeair]

Definitely feeling the need to write some fun Femslash for the upcoming Sandman Femslash weekend!

Clearly, I need a series rewatch so I can render Lucienne and Gault in all their rather excellent glory.

Keep Writing, Keep Creating

With all the conversations going on over the past few days in the Dreamling fandom - I think a lot of people could be feeling stalled on their writing/art in one way or another on stuff they might have had in progress.

This is your nudge.

(Cause I'm feeling it, too.)

Take a deep breath and keep writing.

Take a deep breath and keep drawing.

Take a deep breath and keep creating those metas, making those gifsets, designing those moodboards, making memes, you name it.

You can keep something in mind - and be aware of it - and not address it in your current project. That's okay. Allow people to be critical of characters, of the show, in their own spaces, and focus on your own works and projects. You don't need to engage, and in fact, it's better if you don't.

(If you want some great reads on the topics over the past few days - please check out @seiya-starsniper and their blog. ALSO, their writing is AMAZING, so after you've done that, please go devour their entire Ao3, you can thank me later.)

Keep writing, keep creating, and keep trucking on, darlings. The fandom world will always keep spinning.

[lightdancer1]

Got my first entry up for the Femslash Weekend:

[karalynlovescake]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: The Sandman (TV 2022) Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Lucienne/Mazikeen Characters: Lucien | Lucienne (The Sandman), Mazikeen (Vertigo Comics) Additional Tags: Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Friends With Benefits, complaining about your bosses, BAMF Lucienne, Fighting As Foreplay, Frottage, Oral Sex, Face-Sitting, Set in the Past Summary:

While waiting for their respective bosses to finish their “meeting of state” (a thinly veiled excuse for them to hook up,) Lucienne and Mazikeen commiserate about their jobs, their respective lords, and find an enjoyable way to pass the time.

++

My 2nd entry for the Sandman Femslash weekend event! 

There’s 21 ao3 works in the collection so far, and a number of others that don’t appear to have been added!

@sandmanfemslashfans

[seiya-starsniper]

Oooooo I have so many ideas swimming in my head:

Johanna rescues Calliope before Dream gets out of the fishbowl, and then maybe they rescue him too.

Johanna being adamant that she's got zero creative bones in her body, and Calliope using her gift to show her just how much she's missed out on because she's been focused on hunting demons her whole life

Johanna getting into a bit of trouble with Hades or Lucifer, and Calliope marches down there herself to give them a piece of her mind and demand her lover back

Calliope's had female lovers in the past, but no one quite like Johanna 😏

because of the Sandman femslash thing I just had a thought and I don't know if anyone's had it before but if Yes then I haven't seen it so far:

what about Calliope/Johanna? I bet Jo could intimidate Madoc into setting Calliope free, she's got contacts and resources and she sure as hell won't stand for something like this

[writing-for-life]

Sandman Fics and Poems

The list gets updated regularly, and I love your comments and thoughts (no, it’s not weird to interact, it’s what fandom is about)…

Fics

Lupē (one-shot for Sandman Rarepair Fest, Ao3) or Tumblr (completed, 615 words, Calliope/Morpheus)

The Self-Love, Sex and Pursuit of the Helm Novels: A Tragicomedy in Three Movements (Ao3) (crack fic in progress, ~4,500/app. 7,000 words, Morpheus/The Helm)

The Light of Stars Tumblr Master Post or straight to Ao3 (completed long fic, ~ 75,000 words, Morpheus/OFC)

Snow Globes and Whisky (one-shot for Christmas, links in with “The Light of Stars”) (Ao3) (completed, ~2,500 words, Morpheus/OFC)

As It Was Before The Otherness Came (one-shot for Sandman Femslash Weekend) (Ao3) or Tumblr (completed, ~3,700 words, Johanna Constantine/Rachel Moodie)

Poetry

Aftermath and Dreams of Light (poems for Sandman Rarepair Fest)

Ode to Death and Requiem (poems for Death Appreciation Week)

Sandtober/Inktober 2023 Haikus (Ao3) or Tumblr (completed)

Incandescent Light (the prompt poem/vignette hybrid that sparked The Lightbif Stars)

Series

Check out the ongoing Dream’s Therapist—a tragicomedy straight from the therapist’s couch…

To avoid disappointment: I don't write for the big ships because

a) I am generally not a shipper and

b) they tend to be m/m, and as a bi woman, my main interest is writing m/f and f/f. It is important to me to write female protagonists, and I prefer to write from a female point of view—her feelings/wants/desires and sexuality without the detour of projecting them onto a man.

Apart from that, I love myself a good crack fic and rare pairs, and you will definitely find those. I only started writing fanfic in 2022, and I spent most of that time writing a longfic called "The Light of Stars". I am fairly proud I saw it through, and the sequel is in the making (apparently, people liked it: Can I just say how excited and grateful I was when someone gifted me the Literary Badge? Thank you, you know who you are 🥹).

TLoS is a Morpheus x OFC fic, but it is not a self-insert or Y/N-fic. I am fairly prickly about that distinction because fandom's tendency to throw them into the same pot regularly drives me up the wall. I write OCs professionally (albeit in a language other than English), so the assumption that they are all straightforward self-inserts always seemed fairly odd to me…

I also love writing short-form poetry—you might find the odd one here, too.

Link to full pinned post with all my stuff

[seiya-starsniper]

When the dream touches ground, the demons walk in - HellMuse (AO3)

Rating: Mature | Status: Complete | Chapters 1/1 | Words: 10.3K

Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Rescue Missions, Johanna Constantine saves Calliope from Ric Madoc, Imprisonment, Dubious Consent, Johanna Constantine pretends to seduce Ric Madoc, BAMF Modern Johanna Constantine (The Sandman), Angst, Psychological Horror, Johanna Constantine fights against literal nightmares

Summary: When Johanna Constantine is hired to investigate Richard Madoc by a jealous author who suspects he is using magic to help his writing, the last thing she expects is to find a muse locked in the man's bedroom, kept prisoner to give him inspiration. In order to free her, Johanna will have to confront her past with Rachel and come face to face with a power she's never encountered before.

My contribution to @sandmanfemslashfans's Femslash Weekend Event! This fills in the Day 1: Prompt - Meet Ugly

This fic was based off this AMAZING POST by @teejaystumbles, thank you for inspiring so so so many plot bunnies with this post 💖💖💖