#can’t fault a gal for being hopeful

[im-still-watching-anime]

tsunade: you should ask sasuke out

naruto: huh? isn’t there some kind of rule against inter-team dating??

tsunade: dating would cause way less problems than whatever the fuck you two are doing now

[robinhills]

💫ROBINHILL Smut

kinda scared cause this is only my third time writing smut 😣 I wanna try and make this as in character as I can but it’s gonna probably end up being OOC‼️‼️

also when you think of the hotel suite, my idea for how it would look would kinda be a mix of the penacony hotel rooms and the hotel suite from pretty women.

btw bootyhill can’t reproduce cause cyborg 🦿

꒰ა ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ ໒꒱

CW(s): cyborg sex, porn with plot? + aftercare/pillowtalk, established relationship, missionary, soft sex, praise, biting, hair tugging, touched starved Boothill, Makeup sex? pussy eating, crying during sex, boothill has a normal dick because I’m a pussy, cream pie.

synopsis: they're dating, semi makeup sex?🩷

“I’d travel across galaxies of torture and pain if it meant I could hold you”

~

Robin had just finished her concert, and finally got back to the hotel she was staying at, she was exhausted, but remembering the smiles she saw on people’s faces as she sang, always made her feel a bit better about her day, sure her long and excruciating makeup routine, plus the hours of dance practice, the strict diets, the hate mail, the constant business, the occasional stalkers, made it rough, but just knowing that she could have made one persons day better with her music kept her going.

But that doesn’t mean the fatigue wasn’t getting to her, and…aeons, she missed Boothill, last time they seen each other had been almost two months ago, they had gotten into an argument about how she felt like she wasn’t enough for him…and than she suggested he was cheating on her.

when they had first met, he was a “pump and dump” kinda guy, the type of guy who sleeps with a women one time, and never calls again, didn’t date, and sure as hell, didn’t stick to one gal.

of course deep down she knew he had changed, she knew he loved her, but, she was so busy all the time, and exhausted, and they didn’t sleep together as much as most couples did.

did he feel unsatisfied? Unloved? The guilt of arguing with him over something she knew wasn’t true was eating her up, she just wanted to see him again, but even after apologizing, she couldn’t bring herself to ask him to see her.

She pulled out her phone, scrolling to her texts with boothill, staring at them.

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Boothill🦾🤠| 09:34

|sent with voice message| Heya Darling, I know last night we had that argument and I left suddenly, I’m sorry I’ve made you feel like you ain’t enough, and I’m gonna try and fix that, promise, 🦾 I’m gonna be gone for a few months on some business and I won’t be able to text much, I love you read✔️

Robin🎶🪽| 09:42

it’s okay, I get it, I shouldn’t have yelled at you, I know you aren’t being unfaithful, Boothill, I’m really sorry, I’ll make it up to you, none of this is your fault, I love you. read✔️

Boothill🦾🤠| 09:46

|sent with voice message| it’s fine darling, I get it, I’ll see you as soon as I can, just let me know when ya want to see me and I’ll come running over🦿, see ya, sweet cheeks ❤️ read✔️

Robin🎶🪽| 09:46

Okay, I’ll miss you, cowboy. <3 read✔️

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She sighed, her hand clenching around her phone, seeing that made her feel a bit better, she smiled to herself as she walked down the halls to her hotel room.

she took out her keycard, making sure to check both ways, before quickly opening it and rushing inside, shutting and locking it as quickly as possible, perhaps she was a bit paranoid but better safe than sorry.

Aeons, now she just wanted a nice shower, and sleep, maybe she’d order a bottle of champagne and a box of chocolates.

as she walked in, she noticed the hotel suite was faintly lit by candles, she glanced at the bed, rose petals spread across it, she slowly reached in her bag for her pepper spray, aeons, she hoped she didn’t have a crazy fan inside her room.

She peeked around the corner holding her pepper spray tightly, her thumb on the button, ready to spray.

And there he was, sitting in a chair across the room, already starting to get up, only immediately to sit back down, and put his metallic hands up in defeat.

“eh..hey there…darlin?“ he said, with an unsure tone, as he stared at the pepper spray, and chuckled, slowly standing up.

“sheesh, ya still mad about the fight? Is that it?”

Robin stared for a moment, and sighed, slowly putting the pepper spray down, her wings relaxed in relief, and she rushed over into his arms, burying her face in his neck, his arms wrapping around her waist, spinning her around in his arms. “I missed you.” she whispered into his neck, holding onto him tightly as he slowly set her down, back on her feet. “aww, I missed you too, sugar.”

“im sorry.” she said, almost immediately, staring up at him, her lips curved down into a small frown, the wings behind her ears drooping downwards.

he simply smiled, and took off his hat, tossing it. “Angel, it’s fine, really, it’s okay, do I look mad to you? Cause I ain’t mad.” he trailed his robotic fingers along her cheek.

she hesitates, but she eventually lets out a sigh of relief, nodding slowly, leaning her head into his cold, metal hands. “I know you’re not..” there was a moment of silence.

…

he must have noticed she still looked upset, because he scooped her up over his shoulder, and started walking over to the bed and before she got the chance to object, he tossed her down on it, and quickly started to undress himself.

“d-dear?…” she says after a moment, slowly sitting up, watching him, she sighed. “you want to do this now?…”

“do ya not want to?” “no I do..but I’m tired…”

He paused, and sighed, smiling. “than ill do all the work, you just lay back and enjoy it, sugar…is that okay?”

She hesitated for a moment, she didn’t like having him do all the work…it made her feel like she wasn’t pleasing him.

but the way he stares at her, it reassures her, she sighs softly, and nods slowly. “yes.”

he chuckles softly, and slowly leans down, climbing on top of her, planting a gentle kiss on her cheek.

“Yes what? Use your words, baby.” she sighed, her cheeks growing hot, she felt that fluttering in her stomach at his words, and she clenched her thighs together, her wings perked up a tad. After a moment, she said in a soft voice, leaning back.

“Yes..I want you to make love to me.” He paused, and giggled, he felt giddy hearing that, and planted a kiss on her lips.

“Than ya hold on, sweet cheeks, we goin all night!”

~

He proceeded to help her get undressed, making sure to be extra gentle with her, the cold steel of his hands caused her to occasionally shiver or tense, he kept checking on her to make sure she was okay. once he got her dress and jewelry off, he slowly removed her bra, planting a kiss on both of her breasts, rubbing her stomach slowly. “Mm..missed my girls…and ya nipples already so perky and hard, just for me.” he chuckled, kissing her right nipple, than her left.

She shivered, and looked down at him, slowly caressing the back of his head with her hand, her fingers curling around his hair, playing with it softly.

“Don’t say stuff like that..it’s embarrassing..” she mumbled with a soft tone, sighing, her cheeks flushed brightly, her lips glossy from the wet kisses he kept giving her.

”but it’s true.” He captured a nipple in his mouth, swirling his tongue around her harden nipple, sucking gently.

she let out a small, content sigh, her eyes half lidded, the wings behind her ears fluttered again, she leaned her head back into the pillow, she smiled slightly for a moment, he always found a way to make her smile.

he slowly started moving down her body, trailing kisses down her stomach, and stopping right above her pubic area. “is this okay, baby?” Robin nodded slowly, and grabbed a pillow to hold onto, pressing it against her chest, burying her mouth in it, and mumbled into it.

“Yes. Go ahead, love.” her wings fluttered again, and she squirmed her hips around a bit.

Boothill slowly sat up, taking off her underwear slowly, he glanced at it, and chuckled as he noticed her slick. “sheesh, sugar, ya already that wet?” he paused for a moment, staring at her flustered face, and he said slowly, in a softer, more serious tone.

“Atta Girl, Lift those pretty legs up for me.” She felt those butterflies in her stomach again, but it felt hotter, she felt a throbbing on her clit, and glanced down, noticing Boothill’s erect thick cock, and how swollen and red the tip looked, thank aeons he kept his dick, her wings fluttered again, she was practically salivating. she obeyed, lifting her legs up slowly, exposing herself to him. he groaned softly, and rubbed his jaw for a moment, staring down at her pussy, his dick twitched slightly, and he sighed, almost analyzing her for a moment, his metallic fingers reached over, and he flicked her swollen bud softly, eliciting a small moan from her throat, she bucked her hips up slightly. “Boothill, please…I need you..” she cooed, squirming her hips around in a circular motion, causing him to chuckle again.

“Gosh darn, darlin…you sure are a needy lil’ thing, ain’t cha?” he sighed, and lifted her legs over his cold, metal shoulders.

“Soon…lemme prepare you first, sweet cheeks.” He leaned his hands under her, groping and kneading her rear softly, lifting her up by her butt just slightly, before leaning down, and planting a few kisses on her inner thighs, he glanced at her, before taking a small and soft nibble at her inner thigh, sucking the skin softly. she gasped, before a whimper left her lips, she stared down at him, wiggling her hips again, desperately, she hadn’t been intimate with him in so long, she didn’t realize how starved she was for him since she was always distracted with work.

“Dear…please hurry up..”

he sucked her thigh for a second more, before stopping, leaving a small red mark on her inner thigh, he sighed, and looked at her. “Relax…we don’t gotta rush everything, we have all night…” he caressed her ass slowly, and planted a loving kiss right above her clit, making her shiver.

“Move that damn pillow too, I wanna hear ya” he leaned a hand up, and snatched the pillow away, she whined.

“I need something to hold onto..”

“Squeeze the sheets, pull my damn hair, I don’t care, but don’t try and hide from me.” He quickly latched his lips onto her clit, and sucked.

she moaned softly, and bucked her hips up slightly, her nails digging into sheets, his tongue swirled around her nub, his cold, metallic hands squeezing her ass, caressing her softly.

he slowly moved his lips away from her clit, only to start lapping at her entrance, sucking and probing her pussy with his tongue, devouring her like she was his last meal on earth. he made sure to be careful not to scrape his teeth against her pussy, he kept giving loving rubs with his thumb onto her hip bone, occasionally glancing up at her, his cock pressing into the mattress, the rose petals on the bed were getting mushed up slightly by Robins squeezing and tugging of the sheets. He started flicking his tongue at her clit, switching between slow and fast every few seconds, her moans and whines filled the room, her wings got droopy from the overwhelming pleasure, and her halo tilted slightly as her head kept moving around, she moved her hands slowly to his head, tugging his long white and black hair gently as she felt that familiar, hot, tightening coil in her stomach.

“B-Boothill…’m gonna cum-“ Robin moaned softly, her body tensing up, he started giving long licks, before lapping at her clit rapidly, after a few moments, he mumbled against her pussy. “cum for me, baby, it’s okay, let go.” she than came undone on his tongue, closing her eyes as her wings fluttered slightly, her thighs clenching around his head, tugging at his hair as her orgasm washed over her, moaning out his name softly.

he kept pleasuring her through her orgasm, and once she finally relaxed, he gave a soft kiss to her pussy, and leaned up.

“glory, darlin…look how soaked you are for me!” he smiled with pride, licking his lips, he slowly climbed over her, his cock pressing against her stomach, he leaned down and wrapped a arm behind her head, the other holding Robin’s hip, caressing her softly.

“Tell me when you’re ready for me darlin.” He kissed her forehead, and brushed a couple strands of her pale blue hair out of her face, his eyes half lidded.

~

After a five minutes of letting her relax, she gently pokes his cheek and snuggles closer to him, spreading her legs slightly.

“I’m ready, love.” she cooed softly against his ear, wrapping her arms around his neck.

he stared down at her and slowly moved up, propping himself up by his elbows, he stared down at her body for a moment, and smiled, kissing her forehead. “hold on, angel..” he slowly positioned his cock head at her entrance, and pushed in slightly, inch by inch, she whimpered as she was stretched by his cock, a drop of sweat dripping down her neck.

he leaned down and licked her neck softly, and started nibbling her neck, as he pushed himself in, groaning, she squirmed a bit, her breathing growing heavier, once his cock reached deep inside her love canal, she whimpers, and tenses up, her pussy squeezing around his cock tightly. he moans into her neck, and mumbled gently. “baby..you okay?…you tightened up..ya tense?” He kisses her neck and leans up, staring down at her, he moves a hand to her face, and rubs her cheek, kissing her lips.

once he pulls away, she shakes her head, and motions for him to start moving. “D-Dear…’m okay…move..please…” he sighs, and slowly grabs her arms, pushing them down, and interlocking their hands, he couldn’t feel her skin with his hands, he couldn’t feel her warmth, but he still wanted to comfort her, to make her feel safe.

he loves her so much, he really does, he can’t imagine being with any other women.

thrust

he only wants her.

thrust

he only needs her.

thrust

he only loves her.

He groans, moaning her name softly. “f-fudge!- aeons…Robin, yer doing so good..oh..yeah, babydoll..” his thrusts are at the perfect pace, the perfect angle, hitting right against her sweet spot, making her squirm and moan, her back arching off the bed, their soft moans filling the room, her eyes watered. ”B-Boothill…I…I love you so much!” she cooed, he filled her up so well, she squirmed her hips, his cock ramming into her, picking up the speed, he groaned into her ear repeatedly, grabbing her hips as he pounded into her passionately, occasionally slowing his hips down only to speed up once again, making her moans roll off her tongue slowly, soft coos leaving her throat.

“Mm..I love you too Robin…love ya so much, darlin..”

He glanced at the wings behind her ears, and suddenly leaned his hands over, grabbing both of them on either side, using them as handles as he thrusted inside her.

A loud moan left her lips, tears of pleasure spilling out, drooling slightly, her hips bucking upwards again.

he rolled his hips up in a way that hit her cervix, making her throw her head back.

his thumb caressed her wings slowly as he tugged them as gently as he could while he thrusted into her. She cried, and he almost slowed down. “baby? You okay? You need me to stop?-“

She quickly shook her head, and whined, her body twitching slightly, legs shaking, yet she wanted him to keep going, he sighed softly, and kissed her forehead, letting go of her wings as he wrapped his arms around her, and continued his thrusts, speeding up again quickly.

They both felt their orgasms building up rather quickly, and he groaned into her hair, he could go all night, but he could see she was pretty damn exhausted. “let go, Robin, just relax, I’ll take care of everything, just let go..cmon baby, you’re so close, you can do it, baby girl.” he moaned into her ear, thrusting faster and faster, and she whined, hugging him tightly, and her pussy tightened and squeezed around his cock, her eyes squeezed shut as she felt her orgasm rising to the very top.

he moaned against her cheek, and slammed his lips against hers, kissing her passionately as they came together, his cum filling her up as her orgasm washed over her intensely, her body twitching, he kept thrusting his cum into her, and slowed down after a few moments, fucking her through her orgasm as he moved his head up, staring down at her, with a satisfied smiled, caressing her back. “there ya go, sweetheart…ya feel good?..” he kissed her sweaty forehead, as her shaken breaths slowed down, and her twitching came to a stop, her body relaxed into the bed, going limp as her wings drooped downwards slightly, after a few moments, she whispered in a soft voice.

“mhm…” she paused, and stared at him with her big teal-emerald eyes, and smiled at him. “I love you.” he chuckled softly, and tilted his head. “I love ya too, Robin.”

~

after their intense lovemaking session, he decided to let her rest for the rest of the night, after all, he had all tomorrow to make love to her.

“How was it, sweet cheeks?” He murmured to her. she curled up in his arms, snuggling closer, his robotic fingers combed through her hair repeatedly. “perfect, as always.” she leaned a hand up, and started braiding some strands of his hair, smiling slightly at him.

“Heh, as always, huh? Guess you’re a pretty lucky gal.” he kissed her forehead again, rubbing her lower back with her cold, metallic fingers, it was hot outside anyways, his cool touch felt nice. “And you’re a pretty lucky man, right?” “luckiest in the world.” She giggled softly, and continued to make small braids in his hair. after some comfortable silence, he continued. “whatcha wanna do tomorrow? Shall I take my lady shopping? You wanna go see a movie?” she paused, and kissed his cheek.

“let’s stay in the hotel all day, laze around…I need some downtime” her words made him grin, and he shook his head, and brushed the wings behind her ears with his robotic fingers. “Yes ma’am.” he eyed her up and down for a moment. “Do I get to pleasure ya all day?” “of course.” she cooed, as he started massaging her thighs, and sighed, he slowly leaned down and buried his face in her breasts, closing his eyes. “mm…you a real beauty…ya know that darlin?” she sighs and kisses the top of his head, caressing the back of his head gently as she held him close. “I know, you and half the galaxy tell me everyday.” She pauses. “I like hearing it more from you though.” he chuckles, and kisses her collarbone. “I know you do, sugar..”

they lay in silence, her hands slowly caressing his head as his robotic arms squeeze around her waist and thighs, occasionally planting a kiss on her collarbone or neck.

after a few minutes, Robin yawns, and curls up closer to him, as he pulls the blankets over their shoulders.

“I love you”

“I love you too”

Fin

꒰ა ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ ໒꒱

OMFG. FOUR WEEKS. FOUR WEEKS OF PROCRASTINATION, REWRITING, AND BRAINSTORMING, it’s finally done! HORRAY! 😍

I got a tad lazy near the end but I put sooo much effort and work into this, and I really hope it came out good,

I love robinhill so much and I feel like there isn’t enough content of them at all! So I hope this gets popular enough just to get robinhill more noticed, because I really love this stupid silly ship 🩷

I hope it was an enjoyable experience for anyone who was reading, good morning, good afternoon, and goodnight! - Songbird

[cinnamonest]

May I present to you... innocent playgirl reader x modern au incel scara??

Like reader is just a sweet gal that thinks this boy who she's in a project with is pretty and despite his weird and creepy behaviour, it's a good thing she's trying to make a move, because y'know! it's actually women's fault that men get so frustrated and depressed since they never give the short guys a chance! Only go for the top 1% and all that.

Unfortunately after scara naps her, noncons the absolute, living daylights out of her, and continues to terrorize her ass does she realize that being nice and sweet to the degenerate, sexist incel in hopes of fixing him wasn't the brightest idea 😔

(If you can't tell I love the idea of kind n sweet MC who doesn't know any better getting her shit wrecked for no good reason because incel scara is just that much of an asshole)

Ohhhh my God bless you for this

Precisely, it’s so unfair. It’s just extra inches of leg bone, it means nothing. And yet day in, day out, the oppressed class (sub-6-foot males) have to deal with unjust discrimination. All because you have the most superficial desires and can’t compromise on such a silly thing. No, you’d rather whore around with some guy that will just use you and cheat on you because your dumb girl brain seeks that out like every other. And in spite of being smarter and better than the neanderthals you choose to date, which should entitle him to pussy, he’s left with nothing but porn and his hand. The world is an unjust place.

He’s pessimistic as all hell, so he can’t take any kindness or attempts at getting closer from you at face value, there has to be an ulterior motive.

You’re only pleasant to him when you talk to him because you want something. You probably expect him to do work for you, or help you cheat on tests for you or fork over money. You think he’s the sort of loser that will salivate over any girl that gives him a shred of attention, don’t you. That he’ll run himself ragged doing whatever for you just to get your approval. Well. You’re not going to get that.

It goes along with this greater idea of you he’s crafted in his head, one that fits a similarly pessimistic image. It doesn’t matter how “innocent” you are, literally anything you say or do, he’s projecting this stereotype of a secretly not-so-innocent, ultra-promiscuous college girl onto you and using it as both justification for his disdain and as a means of rationalize not leaping at this rare chance for female interaction — it’s not that he’s too afraid of rejection, it’s just that he knows that talking to you is a waste of time anyway, you undoubtedly have guys lined up you're fucking on a regular basis.

Besides, even if he tried, you’re far too dull-brained, so any conversations you’re capable of aren’t going to be stimulating anyway. You’re in college, of course you’ve spent all this time racking up a body count because God knows girls only use college as a means to get dicked all the time, they don’t actually care for academics in any way.

And poor you, you're completely oblivious to his bitter seething. You just think he's just quiet. And surely he doesn’t come off as rude and cold on purpose, no, you tell yourself that he probably just is one of those guys that is naturally like that, it’s not malicious.

But then you have to start going out of your way to be actively nice. Trying to make conversation and say nice things — you must think he’s stupid, that he doesn’t know that it’s actually just fake niceness so you can lure him in and get him to say something you can then mock him for in that faux-sweet tone of yours. In the exact opposite of your assumptions on him, he assumes malice in everything you do and say. He won’t give you the satisfaction of giving you leverage, so, he stays quiet, gives you one-word answers and shrugs.

What plans do you have for the weekend?, you say, in your attempts to make conversation. Ugh.

Not only are you trying to jab at him by reminding him that he has no plans other than staying inside and wallowing, but clearly you do have plans, undoubtedly ones that end with you stumbling home in a walk-of-shame on a Sunday morning.

And the nicer you get, the more you irritate him. What makes you think you can just be like that? All smiley and sunshine-like, and for what? To mock him? Acting innocent and sweet as if you don't know what kind of power you inherently hold just by having a hole between your legs, as if you're not actively abusing that power when you're clearly trying to get him to be attracted to you.

Each and every class period, he ends up so infuriated by the few words you exchange that the only way he can even stay sane is by immediately going back to his apartment after class and releasing all the pent up frustrations via exceptionally violent porn. He's got a few specifics pages bookmarked now, girls that look just like you getting slapped around and choked and manhandled and skull-fucked and gaped… but it's just not satisfying enough, there's still this lingering irritation, a skin-crawling malice that won't go away.

It's not good enough to imagine. If anything, the post-orgasmic clarity just makes the whole thing feel pathetic — it's not really you, you get to be all happy and safe and sound when it should be you, you should be the one being brutalized and put in your place, you deserve it for being so damn nice. So pleasant and upbeat and kind and what gives you the right?

In the end, once the burning fury becomes too much and no one else is going to do it, the only option is to take matters into his own hands…

[lovecla]

OCEAN EYES | connor bedard.

ellievlasic

liked by _connorbedard, alex.vlasic, madibedard and 230.070 others.

ellievlasic two years since you asked me to be yours, and two years since i said yes. love u more than anything, @_connorbedard

View all 80,568 comments

_connorbedard I love u baby

zambonizen NOOOOO FUUUCK SCREAMING CRYING THROWING UP

lovebedsy that should be me playing but instead of wishing i was ellie i wish i was connor bc she fine as hell you guys

ellievlasic @lovebedsy 😭😭

hugheswh0r3 The real question here is: is Connor her Iron Man or her Vision

connorcutiebedard Thoughts on Connor being a DC fan and dating a Marvel gal??

ellievlasic @connorcutiebedard not my fault he has flaws. let’s embrace them ❤️

_connorbedard @ellievlasic What

_connorbedard

liked by madibedard, alex.vlasic, ellievlasic and 768,091 others.

_connorbedard Happy wife, happy life I guess.

View all 167,546 comments

ellievlasic ????

ellievlasic i swear to god connor answer your phone rn

ellievlasic if this is your way of proposing let me tell you rn the answer is NO

bedsydaddy TF THEY GOT MARRIED??? ARENT THEY LIKE 20 OR SUMN

alex.vlasic dude… couldn’t u find a better caption 😭

_connorbedard @ alex.vlasic Why?

alex.vlasic @_connorbedard MAN READ YOUR COMMENTS, EVEN ELLIE THINKS THIS IS A PROPOSAL

hockeybiggestfan who ellie loves the most competition but it’s cap vs bedard

julie698dems i can’t tell if this is a joke or not are they married 😭

_connorbedard Guys sorry I didn’t mean to create this fuss. Ellie and I aren’t getting married (yet). Thank you

ellievlasic @_connorbedard lmfao i love you

_connorbedard @ellievlasic I love you more

| SIX YEARS LATER |

ellievlasic

liked by madibedard, nhl, _connorbedard and 899,987 others.

ellievlasic well, if it’s you, then i do.

View all 480,568 comments

madibedard I love you both so much. I’ve always wanted a little sister and God gave me you. Calling you in 30! 🥹

ellievlasic @madibedard does that mean i can borrow your birkin bag 💕

madibedard @ellievlasic God take her back

_connorbedard I love you so much, my El.

ellievlasic @_connorbedard i love u so so much i might explode

alex.vlasic TOOK YALL LONG ENOUGH. LOVE YOU BROTHER @_connorbedard

@ nhlblackhawks Congratulations, Mr. and Mrs. Bedard! 😈

@_quinnhughes Congrats! You next @ jackhughes

@user7983 @_quinnhughes next life u mean right

@ellievlasic @_quinnhughes @jackhugues @user7983 LMFAO SHE GAGGED YOU

@ jackhughes @ellievlasic @_quinnhughes not funny.

@melaniebedard Proud of you both. I love you. ❤️

author: even though con is a gen z i always picture him as a grandpa using his socials😭 also, jack, nothing against u but we cannot deny the fact that ur a man whore (the only thing wrong with that is that i am not one of them.)

hope u guys enjoyed this ♡ xx

the end.

[7-wonders]

A Dream Is A Wish Your Heart Makes

Dream of the Endless/Morpheus x Reader

Summary: Life has never been the kindest to you, and you've come to expect only the worst from it. But when a golden-eyed stranger shows up at your place of work and promises you that all your dreams will come true if you just trust them, how are you to say no? Get ready—a ball in the Dreaming awaits.

(Based on the below ask)

Word count: 14.2k

Notes: A couple of housekeeping notes before we get into it! First, this is very heavily inspired by the "Season of Mists" plot from the comics. In the wider universe for this story, this replaces the events in that comic arc. There are no spoilers for the actual comics, though. The only thing you need to know about SoM is that there's an event that brings basically every important magical being to the Dreaming. This isn't super important, but I wanted you guys to be aware of the thought process behind what I did.

Also, for all my nonbinary and male readers—this fic features a gender neutral reader! I sincerely hope that everybody enjoys this.

As always, likes, comments, and reblogs make my world go round (but especially comments and reblogs), so if you enjoyed, show a gal some love!

Desire of the Endless

Desire of the Endless is facing a problem.

For the first time since…well, they can’t remember, actually, that’s how long it’s been since they felt the need to apologize for anything.

Desire has always prided themself on being completely and unapologetically them. If somebody didn’t like that, or if someone’s feelings got hurt, then too bad. That was their fault for not knowing what they were going to get into when they made Desire’s acquaintance.

However, Desire can also recognize when they’ve taken things too far, which is a very steep bar to hit. Practically everything that Desire does, they can justify it completely. This time, though, they finally can’t justify what they’ve done.

So an apology it is. A simple apology, however, is not going to cut it in this situation. Not that it should! But still, it would be a lot easier to patch things up if all it took was a “sorry.” 

Oh well, Desire would just have to get creative in coming up with the apology to end all apologies. Thankfully, they had their dearest twin to turn to when they needed help with a little brainstorming, which is how Despair ends up lounging on a shiny red settee created from the very fabric of the Threshold.

Said anthropomorphic personification watches as her twin continues to pace, back and forth and back and forth, the heels of their shoes clicking against the floor for maximum effect. They perk up every so often before muttering something and shaking their head, discouraged once more. Despair, apparently having finally had enough, lifts her head from the armrest to give her full attention to her twin.

“Your despair is too much for even me to bear, Desire. Please, what is it that troubles you?”

“Our brother troubles me, and not in the way that he normally does.” Desire takes a seat next to their sister. “I find that I…regret the way that I have treated him over the past couple of centuries. I went too far.”

“Was it the ‘helping to trap him in a magician’s basement for a hundred and sixteen years’ or the ‘impregnating a sleeping woman in an attempt to make him spill family blood by killing the new Vortex’ that went too far?” Despair asks dryly.

Desire bares their teeth in a teasing warning, but Despair merely shrugs as if daring their twin to do it and rip her throat out. Desire sighs, knowing that they won’t be able to rattle her, they’ve never been able to accomplish that, and continues. “Regardless, I realize now that I went too far, and I want to make amends with him. Apologize to him.”

“And how are you planning to do that? I doubt a simple ‘I’m sorry’ will patch things up between you two.”

“I realize that too, which is why I seek to give him something to prove just how sorry I am. That’s where you come in, my dearest Despair. I’ve been brainstorming for days, but I have absolutely no idea what to give him as an apology.”

“Hmm.” After a moment, she nods. “I see your problem. Dream’s never exactly been easy to give a gift to.”

Despair begins to think, absentmindedly digging her fish hook into the skin of her face before dragging it down and repeating the process. Desire has always found themself morbidly fascinated by this compulsion that their twin has, unable to look away from the jagged skin that hangs open and the black ichor that drips sluggishly from the wounds.

The hook comes to rest on Despair’s lap, a sign that she’s finished thinking. “Most of your transgressions against our brother have involved you seeking to destroy the two things that control him most. His realm, and his loves. His realm is his duty, his function, his responsibility; he must have control over that, for it’s who he is.”

“Yes, Dream is nothing if not a stickler for his silly little rules,” Desire agrees.

“True, but you’re forgetting that second piece of the puzzle I mentioned. What has Dream always wanted more than anything?”

What was the one thing that Dream wanted, needed, desired, more than anything? The answer, though Despair already said it, hits Desire in the face. “Love,” they gasp. 

Love! A mere step away from, and more often than not, intertwined with, Desire’s very function. 

“But I cannot make somebody love him. Desire him, yes. That’s easy. Though the two are similar, love is something that even I cannot meddle in.”

“I’m not saying that you make somebody love him, nor that you even use your function to acquire this gift.”

Desire’s brows raise from the intrigue of what’s just been said. “Then what?”

“We both know that you’re extremely talented when it comes to meddling in others’ affairs. Instead of using it to harm this time, use it to help. Find Dream’s true love, and make it so that they come together. I believe mortals today call it a ‘meet-cute’?”

At first glance, it seems difficult, if not impossible. While the idea of true love is not rare (at least, to higher beings that know such a thing exists–mortals are still attempting to figure that out for themselves), true love among the Endless is, as of yet, still undiscovered. What if Dream doesn’t have a true love? Even if he does, how is Desire to find out such info—

Their train of thought screeches to a stop as they remember the function of their other brother. Of course! Destiny surely has it in his stupid Book whether or not Dream has some poor soul destined for him. And if he doesn’t, and the rest of his life is meant to be a string of shorter, passionate loves, then it would still be written down. Desire can bring him that happiness sooner as a show of good faith, a way to prove that they’re truly ready and willing to make amends. It’s growth, baby, and Desire’s entering a new era.

So yes, the task does seem difficult. But if there’s one thing Desire loves, it’s getting to play matchmaker. Getting to play matchmaker while meddling in the life of their favorite/least favorite sibling? Even better.

Slowly, a Cheshire Cat grin spreads across their face, and they press a kiss to Despair’s cheek, who begrudgingly accepts the affection. “You, my sister, are a genius.”

“I know.”

After seeing their twin back to their realm, Desire begins their second favorite hobby of scheming as they try to figure out how they’re going to trick Destiny into giving them a peek at his Book. Tough, considering the Book is literally chained to Destiny, but Desire has never been one to back away from a challenge.

Their chance at trickery comes sooner than expected, a mere two weeks later at the first family dinner held since Dream was deposed. None of the six remaining Endless are particularly thrilled to be in the Garden of Forking Ways, and it shows in the guarded way that they hold themselves as they stand around the room and wait to be summoned to the seven-sided table that sits in the middle of it. 

Well, all except for the youngest are guarded. Delirium sits upside down in her chair, creating multicolored butterflies that fly out of the palms of her cupped hands and lazily around the room.

As the shades that serve Destiny move in and out of the room with various platters of food and drink, said Endless finally motions for his siblings to sit down along with him. Even then, they remain in an awkward silence. This family dinner is such a sudden event that none of them are entirely sure if there’s a reason behind it, leaving all feeling a little wary.

Destiny, being the eldest and the host of tonight’s festivities, is the first to speak. Naturally, it answers what none had been brave enough to ask. “I suppose you must be wondering why I called you all here.”

“Yes,” Dream says, even though it’s an obvious question. Of course they’re all wondering why they’re here. 

“The Book has determined that we must meet.”

“Obviously,” Despair sighs. “But why? What are we meant to do while we’re here?”

“Rainbow butterflies!” Delirium throws her hands up into the air, releasing a swarm of rainbow butterflies. “Has everybody been watching the butterflies that I’ve been making? They’re pretty.”

Everybody simply watches the youngest sister, none saying anything. Finally, Destiny shakes his head. “No matter why we’re meant to be here. It clarified much that, previously, made little to no sense. Something important will happen. Something that sparks a chain of events, causing much change and upheaval.”

“And what is that occasion?” Death asks.

“This meeting. That is all.”

“Explain this further, my brother,” Dream prompts. “What must happen?”

“No. I have told you all I tell you. I have brought you all to this place. The rest is up to the five of you. Drink the wines. Eat of the fruit of my garden. Talk. It has been centuries since we were all together. We must have much to discuss.”

Desire sees their opening and takes it. “Mm, I bet we do. Why don’t we start with…Dream!”

Dream looks across the table at his sibling suspiciously. “Me?”

“Yes, you. Tell me...” 

Desire is tempted to say something about his scorned lovers, but since they’re trying to work on making amends and not taking things too far, they refrain. One of the most difficult things they’ve ever had to do, truly.

“Killed any more of your unruly dreams or nightmares lately?”

What? They can still try to get a rise out of Dream in ways that won’t cut so deep. By the way his nose flares as he sits up straighter at the table, they know they’ve accomplished this mission.

“It needed to be done, and I will not take criticism from you on the choices I make regarding my realm,” Dream spits.

“Okay!” Death, ever the peacemaker, attempts to cut the tension. “Why don’t we talk about a different subject. Anything exciting happening for you, Dream?”

“Yes, actually.” Dream sits up in his seat a little straighter. “There is to be a ball in the Dreaming on the next full moon, to celebrate the return of my realm to its full strength. You are, of course, all invited.” 

Ah, so Dream is to show the other monarchs and higher beings, gods and goddesses and deities, that his power has returned and that he is not to be trifled with. Desire can appreciate a good power play, and this is really all that the ball will be. A chance for the Dreaming to pull out all the stops, serve their finest food and drink, offer the most raucous and extravagant party so that every realm in existence will know that the King of Dreams and Nightmares has returned and is more powerful than they will ever be. 

“Oh, how fun!” Death claps her hands together. “I remember when those used to be a regular occurrence in the Dreaming. Your dreams and nightmares do know how to throw a proper party.”

“I like parties,” Delirium chirps, hands chasing after the butterflies. “I’m gonna wear a princess dress!”

The rest of the dinner is fairly boring, compared to other family dinners in the past. Talk of Dream’s visit to Hell and the potential concerns there, minor gods ceasing to exist in the memories of mortals and thus returning to nothing, the problems that the Endless face in their daily lives as they continue their functions: it’s too normal for Desire’s liking, but they’re truly trying their hardest to not cause any major spats. Plus, they need to remain in Destiny’s good graces if they wish to have a chance at momentarily separating him from his Book.

When the dinner finally ends–Death is the first to excuse herself, with an earthquake calling for her to return to her function–the siblings begin to trickle out slowly, one after the other. Desire motions for Despair to go on without them, and while she would normally cause a fuss at having to leave without her beloved twin, she knows that they have an ulterior motive tonight and nods before disappearing back through her portrait.

When Delirium finally tumbles her way into her realm, it’s just Desire and Destiny left remaining in the Garden of Forking Ways. Desire sidles up to their older brother, who sighs wearily and looks with his unseeing eyes at his sibling.

“Desire, shouldn’t you be back at the Threshold by now?”

“Brother Destiny,” Desire coos, trying to seem as laid back as they usually are. “Doesn’t that book of yours ever get too heavy to carry?”

“You’re not going to fool me,” he says. Desire grits their teeth and curses under their breath. “For reasons beyond my understanding, however, the Book dictates that I do this.”

“Do what?”

It’s obvious that he doesn’t want to, but Destiny holds his Book out towards Desire. They can’t believe their luck, and quickly snatch the book from their brother before he can say that the Book said something different and take it back. Their nails–red, of course–run along the plain brown cover before they flip the Book open.

There, laid out as plain as can be, is the answer to Desire’s query. Dream does have a true love, much to Desire’s utter delight, and said true love is a human. A human! If the Universe didn’t want Desire righting their wrongs, then they wouldn’t make Dream’s other half the same species of being as the one whom Desire first meddled with all those years ago.

“Did you find what you were seeking?” Destiny asks, making Desire remember that they’re not alone. When they look up from the Book, they notice their brother’s hands twitching as he fights to snatch back his most precious belongings.

“Yes, I did.” Desire hands the Book back, and Destiny cradles it as if it’s been missing for months and not like he was inches away from it the entire time. “Thank you very much, brother mine. I believe I’ll be going now.”

After all, they have a lot to do between now and the full moon.

You

You’re attempting to sneak a couple of quick bites from your shift meal when the door chimes to signal that it’s been opened, and you sigh before setting down the french fry you were so looking forward to enjoying. Though you want to be disappointed, you know better than that.

Life has taught you better than to enjoy things so that you can find yourself inevitably disappointed by them.

Maybe that’s a little pessimistic for one just entering adulthood. Still, when you’re kicked out and left to fend for yourself in your teen years while your peers are only worrying about homework and if their boyfriend will still be their boyfriend by the time the school formal rolls around, cynicism feels a little warranted. 

You’ve worked anywhere from two to four jobs at a time just to have enough money for a place to live. While you’re now down to only two jobs, which you enjoy, for the most part, it still means that you’re far more stressed and tired than you would wish to be. You’ve made peace with the fact that you’ll seemingly always have to fight to enjoy any quality of life…well, you’ve mostly made peace with it. There are times, like now, where you’re exhausted and hungry and you just want to scream and rage at the cards life has dealt you.

Instead, you just put a smile on your face and get ready for your next customer. When you make your way to the end of the restaurant’s bar where the newcomer has seated themself, they’re already watching you expectantly. Their eyes, golden and piercing, make your skin crawl in the way that it does when it feels like someone knows more about you than you’ve cared to divulge.

“Well, hello,” they greet.

The newest bar patron grins at you with dark purple-painted lips. They’re stunning, and also insanely overdressed (seriously, a fur coat?) for a casual bar. You’d think that they were just coming from a party if it weren’t for the fact that it’s 7 p.m. on a Wednesday. Going to one, then? Mid-week parties are rare, but they seem like a person who just naturally gets invited to every and any party.

“Hi there, how are you?” you greet, cringing at the worn-out sound of your customer service voice after almost 12 hours of using it.

“Oh, just swell.”

“Great! What can I get for you?”

“Hmm, gin and tonic?”

You nod, hands already reaching for the required ingredients. Though it took forever to really get the hang of bartending, it’s kind of like riding a bike; once you learn, you can’t forget. “I’m on it.”

Your patron gratefully takes the glass that you slide across the bar to them, taking a long sip before letting out a satisfied noise. “My, you do know how to make a good drink.”

“Hah, thank you. Can I get you anything else?”

“No, but I’d love it if you could spare a moment to chat.”

“Um–” You scan the bar in a quick check of your other customers, of which there are few now that the dinner rush is over. Just a couple of regulars, so you really have no excuse to say no. “Yeah, sure. Just for a moment, though.”

It’s not uncommon that people want to talk with you. Whether because of your job, that you’re a captive audience, or the fact that you’re providing them with a steady stream of alcohol, customers love spilling their guts to their bartenders. This customer, however, gives you hesitance. They just look like they’re up to no good, like they’re hoping to use you for something that you don’t want to be a part of.

Regardless, you put away the bottles you were using and turn your full attention to the customer, who’s savoring their drink in much smaller sips than they did previously. Although you’re a great multitasker, people think that you’re not fully listening when you’re doing other tasks. And though you try to get your busy work done during your shift so you can get out of here the second you’re scheduled to clock out, you also know how to maximize your tip potentials. You win some, you lose some, you suppose.

When they finally do speak, you’re not expecting them to say, “You look like someone who wants more out of life.”

It’s an odd way to start a conversation, but you’ll bite. Not the first philosophical patron you’ve had. “I mean, who doesn’t? I feel like life is just constantly seeking…more. More money, more knowledge, more connection.”

“A very interesting way of considering the meaning of life. But you, specifically. You have not had a very easy go of things, have you?”

You narrow your eyes. “What are you getting at?”

“You wish for adventure. For a purpose bigger than that which you’ve been led to believe you’re destined for. For something great.”

Swallowing harshly, your pulse thunders in your ears as you grip the wood of the bar, suddenly feeling extremely disconcerted. It could just be a generalization, one that most people would relate to were they called out on it, but it seems like the customer knows you, knows your innermost desires, just from looking at you. Finally, you slowly nod. Their grin somehow seems to grow even bigger.

“Mm, I thought so. Take this.” From within the sleeve of their coat, the stranger produces a business card. “It will help make all your…dreams come true.”

Hesitantly, you take the piece of paper from them. When you look down at it, expecting to see the usual business card information like a name and a phone number, you’re surprised to see that it’s completely blank. Even when you flip it over, the blank back greets you.

“But there’s nothing on—” Your sentence trails off when you look back up, the nameless customer long gone. In their place sits the empty glass, stained with their dark lipstick, of course, and a ten-dollar bill. Other than that, an intoxicating perfume is the only sign that they were even here in the first place.

An indeterminate amount of time passes as you try to figure out what just happened, with the only thing snapping you out of your stupor being the calling of your name. Tate, this evening’s line cook, stares at you expectantly.

“You okay?” she asks. “I’ve called your name three times now, but you’ve just been standing there like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“Um.” 

Are you okay? Spooked, yes, but there’s nothing that you can really do about that now. 

“Yeah, I’m good.”

“Good.” Tate nods, still not looking too convinced. “Table seven’s looking like they’re ready for the check.”

“I’m on it.” 

And you are. Like the good, dutiful worker you’ve always been, you push down any of your actual emotions and thoughts and put on your service face, smiling and ready to accept anything thrown your way.

By the time your shift is over at 11, the encounter with the nameless customer is long forgotten. All that you can think when you finally make it home is about going to bed and sleeping until you have to be up for your other job tomorrow morning. 

Just unlocking the door and stepping into your tiny apartment has your shoulders releasing the tension that had been built up in them all day. Yeah, your apartment is tiny and probably not the best in terms of quality. But it’s yours, and it’s home, and that’s what matters to you. You’ve made the very best of it, and for now, nobody can take that away.

It takes almost all of the remaining energy you have to strip off your work clothes and do some semblance of your nighttime routine, and you mentally thank Tate for insisting you eat something while on the clock. You don’t think you could stay awake long enough to actually eat something right now. When you fall into bed and pull the covers up around you, your only thought is that you hope that you have the type of deep sleep that doesn’t produce any dreams or nightmares. Lord knows you need it.

The hopes that you had are promptly crushed when you open your eyes to find yourself standing on a bridge that leads to a large palace. It’s the oddest place you’ve ever seen, an amalgamation of palaces from all sorts of cultures. Domes and spires and turrets make up the outside architecture, and though it sounds like an eyesore, it’s actually quite beautiful. Strains of music spill out from the open doors, and guests in a variety of finery make their way inside to join what appears to be a party. 

You should be wondering why you’re here, as well as how you’re currently having the most vivid dream you’ve ever had, but all questions seem to be answered by the logic of it being a dream. Of course weird things are going to happen; it’s a dream. Maybe tomorrow, you’ll wake up and think about just how strange the dream actually was. But right now, you’re just going to go with the flow, even if that flow is, apparently, a royal ball.

“Hello, mortal,” a voice as sickly-sweet as honey croons next to you. When you look to your right, you find your golden-eyed customer from earlier in the day standing next to you. This still doesn’t concern you, and if you took the time to be concerned, you’d still just chalk it up to the nature of dreams.

“It’s you!” you exclaim.

They hold their hands out and wave them in an effortless jazz hands. “Yes, it’s me.” 

They’re somehow dressed even more elegantly than they were at the restaurant, wearing a silver corset tucked into a pair of wide-legged, black trousers. Their heeled boots add a couple of inches to their already-tall figure, and you have to look up in order to properly look them in the eye.

“I was beginning to get a little concerned that you weren’t going to take my offer.”

“Uh, sorry? I just got off of work a little bit ago.” 

They wave a hand dismissively. “What, didn’t tell your boss that you had better things to do?”

“You weren’t exactly forthcoming with the details,” you mutter. Your former customer begins to take long, purposeful strides towards the crowds waiting to get into the palace, and you hurry to catch up. “Wait, where are we?”

“This is the Dreaming and you, my dear, are about to attend a ball.”

“What, like in Bridgerton?”

They scoff, obviously offended by your reference. “Please, this is miles better than anything Bridgerton could even hope to come close to. But yes, I suppose so.”

Panic floods you, but not for the reason you’d think. “But I’m not even dressed for a ball!”

They raise a perfectly-sculpted eyebrow at you. “You’re not?”

When you look down at yourself, you find that you are, in fact, dressed for a ball.

An entire galaxy has come down from the heavens in order to settle itself on the champagne-colored fabric of the most fancy clothes you’ve ever worn. The golden stars, all different sizes, shimmer with each twist of your body that you make in order to properly catalog your outfit. The best part of this ensemble, by far, has to be the cape that you’re wearing that’s held on your shoulders by three delicate chains clasped together across your chest.

“Oh my god,” is all you can say, finding it difficult to tear your eyes away from the complete transformation your wardrobe has undergone.

“Close, but not quite,” they say cheekily. “Though, I do enjoy being worshiped.”

You meet their liquid gold stare. “Why are you helping me? Why am I here?”

“Now that’s a long story. Let’s just say that I owe somebody an apology, and you’re a part of said apology.”

There are so many more questions bouncing around in your mind, but they turn on their heel before you can ask any of them, forcing you to keep up with them as they walk to the entrance of the palace. 

“Hello, Wyvern.”

The dragon (a dragon! You’re staring at a dragon!) bows his head at the greeting. “Desire.”

“Is that your name?” They ignore your question.

“You are, as always, welcome in my Lord’s domain.” The wyvern looks at you. “Your guest, however, needs an invitation to enter.”

“Go on, present your invitation,” Your companion prompts.

You furrow your eyebrows. “My invitation?”

Oh! The paper that they had given you back at the bar. But wait, where had you put that stupid paper? You have to think for a second before remembering, and any relief you had felt is washed away by the panic returning in full-force when you remember where it is. Looking at your mysterious benefactor with wide eyes, you grimace as you try to figure out how to explain this to them.

“I left it in the pocket of my work jeans.”

They sigh as if you’re a minor nuisance, which, maybe you are. “Check your pockets, dear one.”

Slipping your hands into your pockets, you’re already preparing an “I told you so” speech. After all, how could that business card have magically moved from one set of pockets to another? When your fingers brush against something very paper-like, you almost can’t believe it. Your mind has already worked out the whole “dream logic” issue, but teleportation seems to be too much even for that.

When your hand emerges holding the paper, your friend smiles smugly at you and nods their head in the direction of the large, mythical animals. “Now present your invitation.”

You hold the paper up towards what had previously been referred to as a wyvern. Even though there’s nothing written on it, he studies it for a moment before nodding. “I bid you welcome on behalf of my Lord. Enjoy the festivities.”

“Uh, thanks!” you say, manners winning out among the insanity of the evening.

The crowd parts for your friend as guests bow their heads politely, which makes you think that there’s a lot that you don’t know about this person who inserted themself into the middle of your life. What did I get myself into?, you wonder as you hurry behind them and into the ballroom.

You haven’t exactly seen very many ballrooms in your life before now, but even if you had, this one would be your favorite. It reminds you of pictures you’ve seen of Russia’s Imperial Palace during the reigns of the tsars, all cathedral ceilings and marble columns. One of the walls is just a line of windows that looks out over a picturesque valley, and breathtaking artwork from some of history’s most exalted artists looms overhead. The guests of this ball, all opulently dressed, mingle below, with many already dancing to the music that comes from an unseen orchestra.

At the top of a long set of stairs sits a stone throne, currently unoccupied. The ruler of this land must be really lonely, you think. Why else would they purposely place themselves so far away from everyone else, if not to feel the sharp sting of being alone?

The pièce de résistance of this entire room, however, has to be the ceiling. You’re not sure whether it’s magic or if the ballroom doesn’t even have a ceiling and instead looks straight up at the most striking view of the sky you’ve ever seen. You can’t tear your eyes away from the swirling galaxy that’s more beautiful than any NASA telescope picture could even begin to capture, and you’re sure that your jaw is hanging open and making you look like an idiot.

You’re so caught up in the wonder that sits directly over your head that you don’t notice when your new friend spots someone or something that they want to go check out. Apparently deciding that it’s a good idea to at least give you a little courtesy warning, they sidle up behind you.

“Have fun,” they whisper into your ear. 

When you turn around, they’re nowhere to be seen, which means you now have to fend for yourself in an unfamiliar situation. Not ideal, but you should be fine. After all, this is just a dream, right?

Since you were given the advice to “have fun,” you decide to try and actually do so. People watching is always fun, made even more so when everyone is dressed up in all manner of finery. As you study the crowd a bit more, you realize that “people watching” is the wrong term to use, because the vast majority of the guests here aren’t human people.

There are beings clothed in white robes with huge wings on their backs that surely must be angels. Some guests wear traditional regalia from Greek, Roman, Japanese, and other historic empires. The most unsettling are the ones that look human, beautiful, even, until you’re able to take an extended look at their faces and realize that the beastly masks they’re wearing, the horns and the snouts and any other combination of monstrous features, aren’t masks at all. Rather, those are their faces, heavily decorated with makeup, but terrifying just the same.

There’s a little girl in an oversized party dress and clown makeup clapping her hands as a gargoyle tries blowing up a balloon, and a literal void with faces in it speaks to a tall, imposing figure with golden curls and black wings. You’re pretty sure one of the guests is even a human-sized cat woman. Not Catwoman, like the supervillain, but a cat woman. You try not to stare, but it’s impossible, and your eyes keep finding your way back to her as you continue to walk around the outskirts of the ballroom.

Even though you’re completely and utterly normal, it’s impossible for anybody attending tonight’s festivities to not feel the sheer power that each and every being here seems to possess. It’s beginning to make you feel self-conscious: if you can sense the magic that all of the guests have, then surely they can tell that you’re not like them. Everywhere you turn, it seems like you’re meeting somebody else’s eyes as they judge you and how out of place you are.

Your chest grows tight as your skin pricks with heat, the room suddenly beginning to be far too crowded for your liking. There must be a way for you to get outside. You need air, or else you’re worried that you’re going to pass out in front of all these partygoers—after a moment of frantically scanning the room, you see the main hallway that you and your strange new friend had entered through. Knowing for a fact that this path will lead you outside, you set out with a determination to make it through the crowd.

This task, however, is much more difficult than you had previously thought it would be. Apparently, the room being so crowded wasn’t just a part of your panicked imagination; there are far more guests here now, and it’s almost impossible to move through all of them. The music, which just minutes ago seemed whimsical and charming, now sounds sinister in your ears as somebody grabs you and begins to dance with your unwilling form.

Like a doll, you’re spun from one person to the next, all of them ignoring your helpless pleas as you beg them to stop. Instead, much to your chagrin, they all seem to take joy in your panic as they laugh and leave you with no choice but to obey their whims. You’re dizzy and breathless, and at this point you can’t tell if it’s from the dancing or the anxiety.

The next set of hands that grab you are much gentler than all the preceding pairs, and they bring you to a stop instead of sweeping you into another dance. Finally, finally, it seems that somebody has taken pity on you, the poor human that’s become nothing more than a glorified plaything. When your vision finally rights itself, you note that your savior’s even managed to pull you out of the maelstrom of people that had so easily claimed you. You go to thank this person, only to have what little breath you’ve regained stolen from you when you look up.

The man standing before you is a classic study in contrast. His chalk-white skin stands out strikingly against his robes and his hair, both as black as pitch. The only difference in shade comes from the flames that you can see licking up the bottom of his robes like they’re meant to be there. Though, in this dream world, it makes total sense that flames would be a good accessory.

He’s objectively one of the most beautiful men you’ve ever seen, but his features are sharper than that of a normal human’s, from the stately slope of his nose to his high cheekbones that are completely devoid of the flush that normally hides behind skin. The biggest giveaway that he’s not like you are his eyes: black pools in which stars twinkle and sparkle. They should be frightening; after all, nobody should have eyes that look like that. Instead, you just find yourself enraptured as you try not to lose yourself in them.

“I do not know you.” The bluntness with which he makes this statement is so jarring (not even beginning to mention that he has the deepest, smoothest voice you’ve ever heard) that it pulls you out of your daydreaming about his eyes, and you glare up at him.

“Okay? I don’t know you either.”

He seems to realize that he came off like a major jackass, and quickly backpedals. “Apologies, I did not mean to make it sound so accusatory. I simply find myself…curious. I believed that I knew everybody here.”

“Well that makes one of us, because I think I only know one person here.”

“Who?” he asks curiously.

You look around the room to see if you can find your mysterious friend, but they’re nowhere to be seen. “I can’t find them, it’s too crowded in here. You already know that though, considering you just saved me from being crushed or forced to dance until I collapse from exhaustion. Thank you for that, by the way.”

“Of course. After all, I could not let one unfamiliar with those here be forced to mingle with Cluracan of the Faerie.”

He nods his head in the direction of a tall, willow-thin man with golden blond hair and pointed ears. If his pompous attitude wasn’t visible even from a distance, then his outfit, a coat and breeches with the same coloring as that of a peacock, would surely clue you in.

“By the looks of it, that would have been a fate worse than death,” you remark solemnly.

The man laughs. It’s a harsh bark of a laugh, one that sounds like it comes from someone who both doesn’t know how to laugh and has never heard a laugh before. People in your general vicinity look your way in alarm and discomfort, but you can only watch with a delighted, albeit confused, grin on your face.

“What’s so funny about that?”

“If you were to meet Death, you would find that she is actually quite pleasant. It is…enjoyable…to spend time with her.”

“Sounds like you’ve spent a lot of time with her.”

“I have.” 

His eyes grow soft and distant as he thinks of Death, and it’s obvious that he’s quite fond of her. He shakes his head slightly, pulling himself back to the present. 

“You did not look as though you were enjoying yourself, even before you were forced to dance.”

“So you were watching me?”

He suddenly feels the need to fastidiously study the galaxy ceiling, but you can see how his cheeks flush with embarrassment. To your surprise, it’s not the normal pinkish shade. Instead, it’s a light purple that spreads under his skin.

“You were!” you tease triumphantly.

“As I said, I believed that I knew everyone here. I was curious when I saw that wasn’t the case.” He looks back at you, those starry eyes twinkling. “You have not answered my question.”

It takes you a second to remember what his question was in the first place. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, everything here is so wonderful and fantastical! I guess I’m just not much of a party person. Never have been.”

“I must confess, I also find I am not too fond of these parties.”

“So then what are you doing here?”

“Currently? I am attempting to avoid Queen Titania of the Faerie.” 

He nods his head in the direction of a woman with blue-tinged skin and some of the most frighteningly dainty features you’ve ever seen, almost like those of a china doll. She’s frocked in a midnight blue gown with puffy sleeves, and as she moves through the room in an apparent search for your companion, a whole entourage follows obediently behind her.

“She’s not as good of a time as Death, I’m guessing?” you ask.

A smirk is the only answer that you get from him, apparently deciding to be enough of a gentleman that he won’t outright insult anybody.

It feels like a lightbulb goes off over your head as you think over what he said. “Wait, Queen Titania, like the character from Midsummer Night’s Dream?”

He looks immensely pleased at the connection that you’ve made. “The very same.”

“Huh. I wonder how Shakespeare met her.”

This seems to make him ponder something, and after a moment, he speaks again. “Where were you trying to go? Before you became an unwilling dance partner, that is.”

Oh yeah. You’ve so thoroughly enjoyed talking to this man that you almost forgot that you were on the brink of panic just a few minutes ago. “I was trying to find a way outside so that I could get some air.”

He nods. “Come, then. We shall get you some air, myself a reprieve from hiding, and I will tell you the story of how Shakespeare came to develop his cast of characters.”

When he holds his hand out to you, taking it is one of the easiest decisions you’ve ever made.

Keeping to the walls is a much better strategy than what you had tried before, which was to forge your own path through the crowds and hope for the best. You duck through one of the stone awnings near the back of the room, one that’s partially obscured by a heavy curtain. When you’ve successfully made it out, your companion’s relief at not being caught by the Queen of Faerie is palpable, and it makes you giggle.

You walk with him through the gardens for the rest of the evening, enjoying foliage that absolutely doesn’t exist in the real world and the company of one of the most enigmatic creatures you’ve ever spent time with. Yet, as he asks you question after question about the most mundane of subjects in your daily life, listening with rapt, awed attention as you answer each and every one, you feel like you’re the one that’s mystical and worshiped across all cultures.

(Though he hasn’t said it outright, you get the feeling that he’s some type of deity, which is simultaneously frightening and fascinating)

The flowers continually pull your attention away from the conversation at hand, not that your companion seems to mind too much. He dutifully fills the air with facts about each of the plants that you stop at, which is why it’s such a surprise when you’re suddenly surrounded by silence.

Looking up from a variant of daisy that shimmers as it goes down a gradient of white to red, and back again, you notice that he’s watching you. You smile at him, waiting for him to launch into the tale of how this flower came to be in this garden, and when he still doesn’t move, you grow a little concerned.

“What is it? Are you okay?” you ask. He seems to finally rouse himself from whatever daze he had gotten himself into.

“Yes, I…” He trails off, continuing to stare, before he shakes his head a couple of times and looks back at the party. This time, when he speaks, his voice is somehow softer than before. “I believe I promised you a story, yes?”

When he finally does get around to telling you the promised story, it’s so much better than anything you could have imagined. The man is a truly gifted storyteller. You can practically see the scene as he develops it, of a man in a darkened pub being offered the tantalizing gift of inspiration for works that would live on well past his death. Did Shakespeare worry that he was making a deal with some sort of demon, or was the prospect of everlasting fame more powerful than any fear or trepidation he may have felt?

“Is it a true story?” you ask, when he finishes with the first performance of Midsummer Night’s Dream which was, surprisingly, performed for an audience that included the actual Queen Titania. Apparently, she was thrilled by her portrayal, and gave the play a glowing review.

A coy tilt of the head is the only answer that you get, leaving the true interpretation of the story up to you, the listener. Though you want to say that it’s fake–after all, Shakespeare making a pact with an immortal creature that then helped him to come up with plays that would forever change the course of humanity just sounds ludicrous–another part of you, the part that has spent this impossible night surrounded by Fae and gods and all other manner of fantastical creature, knows that this is, in fact, true.

“Are you the one that gave him inspiration?”

“Perhaps,” is all that he says.

“You’re frustratingly vague, you know that?”

This makes him smile, and he looks down to simultaneously rein his emotions back in (he does that a lot, you notice) and to pull something from the sleeve of his robe. 

“Am I?” he asks.

His pale hand comes up to present you with one of the color-changing daisies you were looking at earlier. Your breath catches in your throat when he tucks the flower behind your ear, and when his hand lingers against your cheek, you think you’ll never establish a normal breathing rhythm ever again.

“And what would you do, were a stranger to come up to you and offer you anything you ever wanted?”

“Well, I–I guess it depends.”

“On what?”

At this point, you can barely do more than whisper. “On who the stranger is.”

Though you try not to, you can’t help yourself from looking down at his plush, pink lips. You dart your eyes back up to his face, worried about being caught, only to see that he’s done the same.

He leans in even closer, nodding his head slightly towards you. “May I…?”

You nod softly, worried that any sudden movements will ruin the perfect little bubble that you seem to have found yourself in. Are you really about to kiss this powerful being, the most beautiful man you’ve ever laid eyes on? When he brushes his nose against yours, you know the answer is that yes, yes you are about to kiss him. Just as your lips meet his, a harsh alarm jerks you out of his arms and back to consciousness.

Rolling over in your familiar bed, in your familiar apartment, you hit the screen of your phone harshly until the alarm finally turns off. Laying on your back, you stare up at the ceiling and replay every moment of the dream you just had while it’s still fresh in your mind.

You let out a disbelieving sigh at just how wonderful of a dream you had. The giddy smile is impossible to remove from your face, and you run your hands over your flaming cheeks as you giggle.

What a dream. A royal ball, mythical creatures, a gorgeous outfit, and the most captivating man you’ve ever imagined. You already know that you’ll be thinking about your dream man, and the kiss you almost shared, for days to come.

A second alarm, the one that warns that you really need to get out of bed and get ready if you don’t want to be late, begins to sound from your phone.

“Fine,” you mutter to the inanimate object, sitting up and pulling it off of the charger. “You win. I’m up.”

As you get out of bed, you don’t notice the daisy petals that you leave behind on your pillow.

You go about your day feeling like you’re on cloud 9, unable to stop thinking about last night. Not that you want to stop thinking about any moment of your dream. By the time you’re back at the bar for yet another evening shift (only two more days until you have an actual day off!), somebody finally decides to ask what the hell happened to you.

“What the hell happened to you?” Reese, tonight’s hostess for the restaurant side of the establishment, asks. “You’re walking around like a Disney princess or something.”

You shrug. “Just…had a really, really wonderful dream last night.”

“Like a sex dream? I’ve had a few of those that I’d call ‘really, really wonderful’.” Tate pipes up through the kitchen window, meaning you have no choice but to reach through and shove him.

“Fuck off!”

He laughs and jumps back to avoid your ire. “So it was a sex dream!”

“No! It was just really sweet and romantic, y’know?”

“I get it,” Reese says.

You gesture to her gratefully. “Thank you.”

“Who was the lead? Mine’s usually Harry Styles.”

Though you both sigh a little wistfully, you shake your head. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen this man before last night.”

“Isn’t it, like, a thing that you can’t dream of people whose faces you’ve never seen?” Tate asks.

“With a face like his, I definitely would have remembered seeing him while I was awake.”

“Fuck,” Reese grumbles when the door opens and a family walks in. “Can’t people be a little kinder and realize that we’re gossiping here?”

“Apparently not.” 

Everybody shares in a “we hate our customer service job” groan before breaking to do their respective tasks. Reese slaps on a big smile and asks “how many are joining you guys this evening?” Tate flips a couple of burgers on the grill, and you turn to check on your regulars that are enjoying a couple of after-work beers.

Sometimes, it really sucks that you can’t just daydream about whatever you want because you’re forced to work in order to survive. But as the night wears on and your plastic tip cup housed beneath the bar continues to grow more stuffed with bills thanks to very generous tippers tonight, you see the importance of not living in your head.

That is, until someone’s standing across from you at the bar and you smile at them in preparation to take their order, only to almost drop the glass you’re cleaning when you lay eyes on your dream man from last night.

He’s traded the long robes for a simple black peacoat, a black shirt, and black jeans, but he still manages to look regal in them. The wardrobe isn’t the main difference, though. That would be his eyes. Where last night they were black pools of stars, tonight, they’re a bright blue. Just as stunning, but in a completely different way.

The only thing about him that’s the same is his hair. The black strands are still just as wild and untamed as they were at the ball, and it makes your heart flutter to see. You have to hold yourself back from reaching across the bar to try and smooth them out a bit, but really, you just want to feel how soft his hair must surely be.

He’s smiling at you, that same shy smile that graced his lips while he was talking to you about plants. You realize that you need to say something, anything, but all you manage to come up with is, “Hi.”

“Hello.” His voice still sounds like what you imagine melted dark chocolate must sound like if it could talk, and your cheeks grow hot from it.

“It’s you. You’re real!” You wince at the stupidity of that statement. Obviously he’s real, he’s standing right in front of you!

He looks very amused by this, and you don’t blame him. “Did you think I was not?”

“I don’t know.” You shrug. “I mean, it was just a dream.”

“It is never ‘just a dream’.”

You come around from the other side of the bar so that you can actually be standing across from him without anything impeding you. 

“I believe we forgot to properly make each other’s acquaintance last night.”

It’s only when he says that that you realize that he’s right. You don’t even know his name, and he doesn’t know yours. A glaring oversight on both of your parts, but one that he looks ready to correct. 

He gently takes one of your hands in one of his, bending just slightly at the waist as he brings your hand up to kiss the back of it.

“I am Morpheus, Dream of the Endless. You may call me by either name, dearheart, for either shall sound sweet coming from your lips.”

You entrust him with your name, and he grins so radiantly that you feel as though you’ve been standing in front of the sun. He repeats it back to you, and you could swear that you’ve never heard your name sound so beautiful before now. You’d give anything to hear him say it again and again. Hell, if the last word you ever heard on this Earth was this man–Dream! Morpheus!–saying your name, you’d die happy.

Even though you’re totally sure that this isn’t a dream (you know, you pinched your leg to make sure), part of you is still worried that either he or you will disappear again. Who’s to say that you’ll be able to find each other a second time? Just in case your fears come true, you decide to act before you can remember why you don’t act before thinking.

Dream’s still holding onto one of your hands, and you use it to pull him closer to you, close enough that your noses are almost touching as he bends his head just slightly to look at you. His eyebrows are raised as he waits for you to make your next move. Said next move consists of you wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him in for a long-awaited kiss.

If he’s surprised, he doesn’t show it at all. One hand rests on your waist while the other goes to your chin so that he can tilt your head the way that he likes–you’re certainly not going to stop him from doing that. 

The restaurant patrons all start cheering, and you can hear Tate and Reese wolf-whistling. It’s embarrassing, but you’re too wrapped up in Dream right now to fully care. Maybe after you separate. For now, since both of your arms are over Dream’s shoulders, it makes it easy for you to flip your coworkers off without having to interrupt your kiss. 

Later, you’ll have to see if you can track down your strange, golden-eyed friend and thank them for giving a blank business card to a stranger who worked at a bar. After all, they were right. That card has made all your dreams come true.

Dream of the Endless

Dream of the Endless is not at all thrilled to be playing host to beings from almost every realm that the Dreaming has even the most tentative of alliances with. He received his reputation as a recluse for a reason, and it’s certainly not because he loves being social.

But tonight is not for him, no. It’s for the Dreaming. He had been gone for far too long, even if it was against his will. Not only had the Dreaming crumbled physically, but its standing as one of the most powerful realms in existence had crumbled too. Now that he was back and his kingdom restored to its former glory, if not more powerful than it was before his departure, he intended to remind each and every naysayer just why the Dreaming commanded their respect.

Of course, right as he’s thinking that the night is shaping up to be quite successful, he sees a guest that he most certainly did not invite. He knows this for certain, because he knows everybody and their dreams just by looking at them. Even if he didn’t, when one is alive for as long as the Endless have been, one gets to know most everybody that’s of a higher rank or class of the various realms.

You, with golden stars swimming across your body, are entirely unfamiliar to him. Even more unsettling is the fact that he doesn’t just intuitively know his name, which means there are other forces at play here. And on this night, where the Dreaming is meant to be at its best, he will not allow his enemies any opportunity to take that away from him.

It’s obvious in your demeanor that you’re uncomfortable amongst the crowds, and Dream is not the only one to notice it. When the eyes of the Trickster God, Loki Skywalker, land on you, Dream can almost see the plan formulating in the Norseman’s head. He takes a couple of quick steps, and before you can even blink, he’s swept you unwillingly into a dance.

You’re immediately begging for him to let you go, your fists pounding against his arms as you attempt to free yourself from his embrace. Loki does finally acquiesce to your demands, but simply spins you into another’s arms. Those in the general vicinity all seem to be in on this little joke, all of them laughing and taking their turn to have your resistant self in their embrace.

Suddenly, you don’t look like a threat. You’re simply a person, scared and out of your element, a pawn in the games of beings much more powerful than you. Dream may not know your true intentions, but he can’t continue to let this happen under his purview. With a single thought, he’s across the ballroom and pulling you into his own arms and away from those hoping to be next in line for a dance.

You stumble over your own feet, your body still propelled forward by the inertia of the other dancers that came before Dream. Blinking furiously to try and clear your vision, you’re finally able to look up at him without getting dizzy. 

Dream watches you try to figure out something, anything to say, and in return he studies you as well. It’s still impossible for him to divine any sort of information about you, but he can’t sense any other being’s magic on you that would be blocking his access. Apparently, you’re simply an anomaly, and that’s not including figuring out how you got past the gatekeepers in the first place.

“I do not know you,” he finally settles on saying. Apparently, by the way that you glare at him, it comes out much harsher than he had planned.

“Okay? I don’t know you either.”

He has to apologize, obviously. “Apologies, I did not mean to make it sound so accusatory. I simply find myself…curious. I believed that I knew everybody here.”

“Well that makes one of us, because I think I only know one person here.”

“Who?” he asks, wondering if this is the person that is blocking his access to you.

Though you look around the room, you don’t seem to find whoever it is. “I can’t find them, it’s too crowded in here. You already know that though, considering you just saved me from being crushed or forced to dance until I collapse from exhaustion. Thank you for that, by the way.”

Dream finds himself perturbed. Why wouldn’t he have helped you out of your less-than-ideal situation? It seems like common decency, but perhaps human society has decayed so badly that even this simple act warrants a heartfelt thank you.

“Of course. After all, I could not let one unfamiliar with those here be forced to mingle with Cluracan of the Faerie.”

He nods towards the aforementioned Fae, who is currently strutting around looking for his next conquest. Behind him trails his sister, Nuala, just as fair as her brother but decidedly a much kinder creature. She whispers something in his ear, and he merely brushes her off before continuing his search.

“By the looks of it, that would have been a fate worse than death,” you remark.

The statement, said with the confidence of someone who does not know that there are forces far beyond that which they may believe, is so humorous to Morpheus that he can’t help but laugh. How could anybody regret their time spent with Death? She is the literal oxymoron of her name; in fact, she should be the personification of sunshine instead of death.

Instead of shying away from him, because he does know that his laugh is truly horrific and thus wouldn’t blame you for doing so, you surprise Dream by grinning at the sound and looking rather proud of yourself for eliciting a laugh from him. Oh, he really enjoys this. 

He’s always found himself fond of those able to look beyond his function. As he continues to interact with you, he realizes that you apparently have no clue who he is. He also realizes that talking to you is not the same chore as it is to converse with the others that are here in his realm tonight.

Before he knows it, he’s offering to take you out to the gardens and tell you the tale of how a young Will Shaxberd came to be known as history’s greatest playwright. He shouldn’t be abandoning his guests, for that’s not what a good monarch does. However, it’s too tempting to not try and have you to himself. When you accept, he finds himself thrilled for the first time since before his imprisonment.

Dream takes great pride in the palace’s gardens. Much of the flora there had long since gone extinct, and the only thing keeping them alive in this moment was the Dream Lord’s memory (or, the memories of dreamers long gone whose knowledge Dream had leached from) of when they still flourished. He was happy to share those memories with anyone willing to listen, and you were proving to be one of the most engaged audiences he had entertained when it came to his garden.

Time is a fickle thing in the Dreaming, to be certain. Hours can pass by like minutes, or minutes can be days. It’s why he tends to keep appointments in the Waking to a minimum; he loses track of time far too easily, and often needs multiple reminders that he has an obligation in a realm not his own.

Never has Dream felt Time so keenly in the Dreaming as he does when he finally looks away from the path ahead and towards you, only for Time to seemingly come to a stop. The moon shines down upon you like an ethereal spotlight while you bend just slightly in order to fully study a daisy that was last seen in the Andromeda galaxy two hundred lightyears ago. Softly, so as not to ruin it, you gently run a finger along the edges of the velvety petals. Your smile as you do so is filled with so much kindness that Dream believes he could drown in it, not that he would mind in the slightest.

Dream had experienced love at first sight far too many times for his liking. A secret hopeless romantic, it was far too easy for him to immediately see the best in any potential romantic partner and offer himself up to them on a silver platter. Indeed, he had given lovers the finest jewels or entire worlds created just for them, and every single one had ended up spurning him in the end.

Perhaps that’s why this feels so different. This isn’t love at first sight, for he certainly had held no love in his heart for the strange intruder wandering wide-eyed around the ballroom. He’s had Time on his side, allowing him the chance to actually get to know you.

And after getting to know you, Dream wants. He wants to feel the gentleness of your touch on his skin, he wants your soft smile directed towards him. He wants to hear every thought that goes through your wondrous mind, he wants to know what you like and don’t like. He wants you, in every way that you’ll allow him to have.

Time finally restarts again, and Dream notices that you’re staring curiously at him. Distantly, a small part of him wonders how long you’ve been looking at him like that. A much larger part of him admires the color of your eyes.

“What is it? Are you okay?” you ask.

“Yes, I…” 

He really must stop staring at you, he knows that it’s already far past the point of politeness. Shaking his head, Dream looks back at the ball and tries to contain his emotions once more before speaking again. 

“I believe I promised you a story, yes?”

Dream didn’t earn the title of “Prince of Stories” for no reason. Still, it makes telling stories infinitely more enjoyable when the audience is interested in what he’s saying. You, however, are not just interested. You’re enraptured, hanging on to every word he has to say. This, by far, is his favorite type of person to tell a tale to. The fact that it’s you, the mysterious human who somehow snuck into his palace, makes it even better.

After his tale is finished, you ask him if it’s true. He can’t help but to demur, planting the seeds of doubt even though it’s very much true. After all, if he had wanted you to know that, he would have told you outright during the story.

“And what would you do,” Dream asks, suddenly feeling bold, “were a stranger to come up to you and offer you anything you ever wanted?”

“Well, I–I guess it depends.”

“On what?”

“On who the stranger is.”

Dream really wants to kiss you right now. By the way that you whisper, and how Dream catches you looking at his lips, he thinks that you feel the same.

He leans in even closer, nodding his head slightly towards you. “May I…?”

You nod, and Dream is so thankful that you do. He’s not sure that he could bear the rejection, not when you’ve gone and made him fall in love with you so effortlessly.

Dream has seen plenty of teenagers dreaming of their first kiss. Mere children on the cusp of adulthood, their emotions are always so palpable. The fear of messing up, of getting this wrong. The exuberance of finally getting to kiss the one they have not been able to stop thinking about. The burgeoning passion of young love, sealed, quite literally, with a kiss.

Right now, as your lips just begin to meet his, Dream feels much like those teenagers. He’s terrified that he’ll move too fast or make some wrong move to push you away, while at the same time, he’s thrilled that you want to kiss him just as much as he wants to kiss you. Underneath it all, the embers of something more promise to be fanned into flames once he actually kisses you.

Before Dream can actually do that, though, he feels your lips become less real, less firm, against his. He can only watch as your body fades from within his grasp and you disappear, presumably back to your Waking body. After you’re well and truly gone, with no sign of you falling back asleep and appearing in his embrace once more, Dream can only stare at the spot you once occupied.

When Dream comes out of his stupor, his head falls to his hands in disbelief, unable to believe his truly rotten luck. He remains in this position until the sky begins to grow light and he remembers that he has duties he must attend to, duties that include politely but firmly seeing all of his guests out of his realm.

As Dream nods his head at guests telling him how much they enjoyed the festivities and thanks others for coming and accepts quiet alliances re-formed by those who had believed the Dreaming well and truly gone, he’s quite proud of the fact that he’s somehow pulled himself together enough to not currently have a hurricane that reflects his emotional state sweeping through the Dreaming proper. It doesn’t matter that said hurricane will likely begin to rage the second the doors to the palace close and the hastily-constructed dam holding Dream’s feelings back breaks from the pressure. For now, he has it all under control.

At least, he has it under control up until he walks back into his throne room to find Desire lounging at the bottom of the stairs.

“Sibling,” Dream greets reluctantly, his patience wearing extremely thin. “Do you not have the desires of my guests to chase after and feed off of in your realm?”

“Don’t you worry, big brother, I’m on my way out.” They stand and stretch in a way reminiscent of how a cat stretches. “Great party, by the way. Why, you look really bummed out for somebody who just met the love of his life!”

It should not be nearly as surprising as it is that Dream’s sibling has once again inserted themself into his life, where they do not belong. Regardless, it is as surprising as it is rage-inducing. Between one blink and the next, Dream has Desire pinned against the wall with his hands wrapped around their neck. Desire simply laughs breathlessly.

“I should have known that you were behind that,” Dream spits.

“You don’t have to say it–” Desire’s sentence breaks off with a choking sound, courtesy of Dream squeezing even harder and resisting the urge to wring their neck. “–Like it’s a bad thing.”

“I told you that, were you to mess with me or mine again, I would not hesitate to spill family blood. Are you really so stupid as to disregard our last talk, so soon after we had it?”

Desire looks frightened, and they should be. Dream truly wants to kill right now, to unmake something with his bare hands and feel the carnage that he creates. “No, no, no, you have it all wrong!” they say. “I’m giving you a gift, sweet Dream. No strings attached, nothing you have to do besides say ‘thank you, my favorite sibling’ and accept it!”

“A gift.” Dream’s hands loosen around Desire’s neck, but still remain fixed in place.

“Yep!”

“And why should I trust you?”

“Because I really am sorry, Dream. Truly. I regret how I’ve treated you, especially over the past couple of centuries. You’re a pain in my ass–just as I’m a pain in yours, I’m sure–but you didn’t deserve what I did to you, and for that, I’m sorry.” 

He doesn’t believe them, a fact that is plainly clear and causes Desire to roll their eyes. When they push back against Dream, he finally lowers his hands and takes a step back.

“We’ve been siblings for long enough, and you’ve felt my influence on—how many lovers is it? Tell me, did you feel any of that on your little dreamer last night?”

“No,” Dream admits.

“No, exactly. So when I was trying to figure out, ‘how can I say sorry to my beloved big brother and truly mean it,’ I thought it would be nice of me to find out if you had a true love, who said true love was, and then bring your true love to you! You can thank brother Destiny’s little Book for helping me there; he would have never allowed me to look and see if you had a true love if it weren’t for the Book telling him to do so.”

“What?”

This comes as quite the shock to Dream. It’s one thing for Desire to try something as outlandish as looking in Destiny’s Book; it’s another thing entirely for Destiny to let them do so. As Desire said, if the Book did not tell him to do something, then Destiny would not do that thing.

“Mhm,” Desire says, looking entirely too pleased at this situation. “The universe itself wanted me to give you this type of an apology.”

If Desire had used Destiny’s Book to find you, then that means that they know your name. “So, you know…”

“Your little lover’s name? Yes, I do. Why, did you not catch it?” Of course they know that Dream doesn’t know your name; it’s what Dream wants most right now, so naturally, Desire can sense it. “Were you two lovebirds too busy flirting with each other to remember to ask for names?”

“Tell me, Desire,” Dream snaps. He winces, feeling slightly guilty about letting his emotions get the best of him. Not that he’ll apologize, since it’s apparently Desire’s turn to do so.

“Sorry, I had to tease you a little bit.” 

Desire finally feels a modicum of empathy and tells Dream your full name, and a part of Dream that he wasn’t aware he was missing slots into place.

“Well, I suppose I should be off now. Lots of your party guests whose desires I have to chase after and feed off of. You know.” 

They grab the lapels of their opulent fur jacket and smooth out the wrinkles that their altercation with Dream put into their carefully-created ensemble. Dream will feel even more guilt about that tomorrow, he supposes. For now, you’re the only thing on his mind.

However, Dream would be remiss to not acknowledge the effort that they know Desire put into creating this apology. He can’t let his sibling go without having them know that he appreciates it, and so he calls after them. “Desire!”

They turn on their heels. “Yes?”

“Thank you. I…accept your apology.”

Desire grins brightly and nods, which is how Dream knows they’re thankful for this acceptance. They wave their fingers teasingly before continuing on their path out of Dream’s palace. “Have fun with your present,” they say over their shoulder and promptly disappear.

Dream is finally left alone in his throne room which, at the beginning of the night, was all that he wanted. Now, with the silence only 

He knows your name. Not only that, but he knows that you and he are meant to be together. It truly is the greatest gift that anybody could have given him, made more meaningful since it’s Desire who has done this.

There are a number of actual appointments on his docket that he must begrudgingly attend to, even though he wants nothing more than to rush to the Waking and find you. That would be neglectful of his realm, though, and Dream promised himself, back when he believed you to be a threat, that he would not allow you to ruin his realm. 

Now, he would gladly ruin his realm if you were to ask him, which is why he’s so determined to see to everything that must be completed. Though it all feels tedious, the tasks do eventually get completed. Dream leaves almost immediately after the last report, delivered by a young dream in the form of a talking dog, is escorted out of the palace.

(Matthew is extremely confused by his boss’s sudden change of attitude. Lucienne, who’s seen this plenty of times before, simply sighs and hopes that he knows what he’s doing this time.)

When Dream arrives outside of a small restaurant, evening has already fallen in the Waking. It’s been less than 24 hours since you first made your way into his palace, a little over 12 since you were jerked back to consciousness and away from him. Truly not long, in the grand scheme of things, but it’s felt like a lifetime to Dream.

Your attention is divided between one of your patrons, telling a story about a mishap at work and embellishing just slightly, and the drinking glasses you’re pulling from a tray and drying clean. Dream can’t help but watch you in your element for a moment, but Dream is not a patient man, and a moment is all that he can afford before he steps up to the bar and across from you.

A smile is already on your face before you turn to look at Dream, a smile that freezes in place when your eyes meet his. Your hands begin to shake, and the glass nearly slips from your grasp before you manage to firmly set it down on the wooden countertop.

The shock is understandable. After all, most dreamers do not expect to see someone in the Waking that they have previously only seen in their dreams. Dream just hopes that it’s a good shock that you’re feeling, and not the one that he fears.

Your smile turns into something smaller, softer, and those fears that Dream held evaporate when you greet him. “Hi.”

“Hello.”

“It’s you. You’re real!” 

After having spent a few moments trying to figure out what to say next, Dream is amused that this was what you decided on. “Did you think I was not?”

“I don’t know. I mean, it was just a dream.”

“It is never ‘just a dream’.” And today, he is so glad that this statement is true.

You round the bar in order to be on the same side as Dream, and it takes every ounce of restraint in him to not immediately gather you up in his arms and sweep you back to the Dreaming.

“I believe we forgot to properly make each other’s acquaintance last night.”

Gently, he takes your hand and kisses the back of it. By the surprised whimper that gets caught in your throat, Dream assumes that courtship rituals have changed since the last time he attempted a relationship. Interesting, and something that he’ll be sure to ask you about later.

“I am Morpheus, Dream of the Endless. You may call me by either name, dearheart, for either shall sound sweet coming from your lips.”

Though he already knows your name now, he still allows you to introduce yourself to him, if only for the pleasure of getting to see the starstruck way you look at him when he says it as if to confirm that it truly is your name. If there were any residual worries about your passion for each other not translating to the waking, those are promptly wiped away when you throw your arms around Dream’s neck and pull him to you for a kiss. 

Truly, this is a new age that Dream is entirely unfamiliar with if kissing in public like this is acceptable. By the sounds of patrons’ applause, it appears that it is. What a strange new world Dream has found himself in. Not that he’s complaining. No, he’ll take victories as they come. As he brings a hand to your chin so that he can tilt your face and kiss you even deeper, he thinks that this is the greatest victory he’s ever had, for this victory has brought him you.

His own dream come true.

Desire of the Endless (again)

Desire’s enjoying their second glass of ambrosia, courtesy of the Greek pantheon, when they catch sight of Death, tight curls bouncing around her head, marching straight for them. They look both ways in the hope that there’s some other being who’s about to receive their sister’s wrath, but unfortunately, it looks as though they’re the target.

“Sister, how wonderful it is to see you tonight,” Desire greets. “Are you thirsty? Let me grab you a refreshment.”

Death simply narrows her eyes in suspicion. “You’re up to something, aren’t you?”

“What?” Desire holds a hand to their chest. “Me? What would make you say such a thing?”

“Mm, the fact that I’m your older sister and I know what you’re like when you’re up to something. You’ve had that look about you all night, the one that says that you’re just waiting for one of your plans to play out.” She nudges her sibling with her shoulder. “So? Out with it.”

“Fine. I’m in the middle of apologizing to our brother.”

“Oh gods,” Death bemoans.

“Don’t say it like that! This is a good thing!”

“When have you ever apologized to anybody for anything?”

“I apologize to Despair quite often.”

“Because she’s your twin.”

“And I’ll have you know, I also recently apologized to Unity Kincaid.” 

Now that gets Death’s attention, as it should. Desire, apologizing to one of their pawns? Death might need to go check and make sure that Hell hasn’t frozen over.

“Alright, then,” Death says. “You do know that apologizing usually involves going up to the other party and saying you’re sorry, right?”

“That comes later. First, Dream gets his apology gift.”

Desire gestures across the room, where you and Dream are currently involved in some sort of contentious stare-down after Dream had come to your aid when you were being forced to dance with anybody wanting a dance. Not the best start to a relationship Desire’s ever seen, but Dream’s always liked a lover that can challenge him.

Death doesn’t see it in the same way as Desire. All she sees is Dream talking to an unknown mortal, one that Desire brought here. Naturally, she gets the wrong idea.

“Oh Desire, you didn’t!” Death scolds. “Have you learned nothing from Alianora, Killala, Nada, or any of the others?”

“This isn’t like that!”

“Really?” Desire nods. “Okay, then tell me what it’s like.”

“I simply brought the mortal here for Dream to find! Those two are doing the rest.”

“And you swear that you have done no meddling to make them have any feelings for each other?”

“Yes, I swear.”

Death continues to glare at her younger sibling, which, okay, Desire supposes that’s fair. Doesn’t mean they have to enjoy the apprehension, though.

“Fine. I swear on my function, as well as the first circle, that I have not manipulated either Dream or the mortal.” 

Desire makes sure to swear on the most solemn and binding of things that an Endless can swear on, both so that Death will realize how serious they are and because they know that they’re not telling any sort of a lie. 

“All I did was find out whether Dream had a true love, which he does, and then I made sure that the mortal would have an invitation to tonight’s festivities.”

Death nods, satisfied. “How did you find that out?”

“Apparently, even the forces of the universe want Dream to get laid. Destiny let me look in his Book.”

Death lets out a sharp laugh. “Oh, he must have hated that!”

“He gave me exactly thirty seconds before snatching it back.” Desire scoffs. “Not as if I could have done anything to it, considering it’s literally chained to him.”

“It’s like his security blankie!”

A harsh, frankly disconcerting laugh echoes from nearby. While others would simply shrug it off, Death and Desire know exactly who that laugh belongs to. When Death finally fails at trying not to spy, she and Desire both see Dream’s shoulders shaking with laughter. Next to him, you’re sporting a pleased grin from the reaction you’ve been able to elicit. It’s quite the sight, and most try not to look so as not to incur the ire of the Dreamlord. His siblings, however, are exempt from that bit of common sense.

“Aw,” Death coos, her eyes shining as she watches the scene.

Desire knows exactly why their sister has such a reaction. Never, even in the early days of his courtship with Calliope, which was easily the “best” of his relationships, have any of the Endless ever seen Dream smile so freely and openly towards someone. They’ve especially never seen him let his guard down enough to laugh–which is probably a good thing, because the few times Desire’s heard his laugh, it’s left them feeling a little unsettled for a couple hours after.

“So this is simply part one of your apology?” Death asks.

“Yes. I truly am sorry for how I’ve treated him, especially over the last couple of centuries. Dream would have every right to not accept my apology, which is why I’m not just giving him a simple ‘I’m sorry’. Instead, I decided to shorten Dream’s path to finding true love, and both find his true love for him and bring said true love straight to him. A genius plan, truly.”

“You decided?”

Damn their oldest sister for being, well, an oldest sister. “Despair gave me the idea.”

“That sounds more like what I expected.”

Desire’s about to go on a diatribe about how this family only ever sees the worst in them (mainly for the fun of it, not because they actually care), when Death squeals, smacks Desire’s chest, grabs their arm and points back towards the two future lovebirds.

Dream is looking up at the ceiling to try and hide the fact that he’s blushing. His cheeks are a light shade of purple, and you look absolutely besotted by the sight.

“Oh, this is going so much better than I could have hoped,” Desire says as Dream levels his gaze with yours once again, the two of you seemingly challenging each other again on something. If the Book hadn’t told Desire that you and Dream were meant to be, this interaction would surely let them know.

“Shut up!” Death smacks Desire’s chest even more when Dream holds out his hand, which you take, before the two of you begin to sneak off like a couple of teenagers.

“What did I say?” Desire posits triumphantly. “Those two are doing all the work.”

“He’s going to be right pissed when he finds out, you know.”

Desire nods, because they do know. They’re expecting all sorts of threats of bodily harm and promises to break the most sacred rule of the Endless, all so that Desire can finally get their perceived comeuppance. If Desire’s being honest, they deserve that rage that Dream will direct towards them. They just hope that Dream will actually listen to what Desire has to say.

“He’ll get over it once I explain it to him,” Desire says.

“For your sake, I hope so. Won’t be too much of an apology if he doesn’t forgive you because he can’t see the validity of it.”

“He will.” Desire’s sure of it, and they grin at their sister. “Even if he doesn’t today, they can both thank me for my hard work at their wedding.”

Desire has enough tact to keep their triumphant “I told you so” to a smug grin when, barely a year later, they find themself back in the Dreaming for your and Dream’s wedding celebrations.

[loveandmurders]

hello buddy ol pal! came here to request some billy loomis or stu macher x fem/gn reader who’s like *super hot* but too ditzy to notice? (cringe i know 🤭) if you can’t write it no worries!

Hello love, thank you for this request! It was a very cute idea actually.

Hope you'll enjoy <3

SO HOT & SO CONFUSED (Billy x female!reader)

Warnings: no proof reading, mentions of murders, protective and possessive Billy, mentions of sexual desire, reader is a hot himbo.

You only arrived in Woodsboro two weeks ago, and yet it felt like you had always been there.

You didn’t know how that happened but the most popular people in school instantly brought you to their side, and everyone knew you and treated you kindly. You were invited to every party, you were greeted by everyone and even male teachers seemed to give you better grades.

You thought you had always been lucky in your life, because people were generally kind to you, and you enjoyed that.

You were kind in return.

However you disliked how men could sometimes be creeps to you. But weren’t they the same to every woman on the planet anyways?

This time it felt different, though.

No guy tried to annoy you.

And the one who tried, disappeared soon after and you never saw him ever again. Until his face was on every street of the town with a big “MISSING” beneath his picture.

To be fair, it happened a few times.

It also felt different because of Billy Loomis.

He was the hottest guy of the town and everyone wanted him in their bed at least once in their lives.

And you had to admit that you would also like that.

But you weren’t feeling bold enough to start flirting with him. Especially because you didn’t like drama and you were pretty certain every girl in school would start hating you if they saw you in his arms.

Good thing he was bold enough for you two.

Whenever you would arrive in school, you could be certain that Billy, sometimes closely followed by his best friend Stu, was going to spot you and to walk to you or to gesture to you to come closer.

You were almost certain that Billy was already dating another girl though. Sidney or Sandra or something like that.

You didn’t really care about her, as Billy’s charming presence was always making you forget all about the people around you.

You tried your best to never sit next to him in class or you knew you would never be able to follow what the teacher would say.

But sometimes you failed, because the man seemed to enjoy your presence a little too much for both your own good. He needed to keep an eye on you.

For the sole reason that he had never met a girl he so physically desired before. He couldn’t even imagine how your naked body would feel beneath his, nor how truly gorgeous you were.

He needed to make you his.

And that was why Ghostface was killing whoever was getting a little too close to you for his own liking.

He couldn’t share you with anyone else.

Was it Billy’s fault if you were the hottest gal he ever saw in his whole life?

The first time he saw you, he was smoothly talking to Sidney… and you made him forget his lines. Sidney had been quite pissed at him, and it had been hard to recover from him being distracted because of another girl.

Gosh, you had become his favourite sight to look at. He could watch you all day long without getting bored. You were a masterpiece.

And he needed to have you.

Of course Sidney was in the way, and he really couldn’t wait to get rid of her.

Stu had to remind him countless times that they were supposed to follow the plan or it wouldn’t be as good as they had thought it would be.

But Billy was getting impatient.

You were so hot.

And yet you didn’t seem to notice it.

More than once Billy flirted with you, calling you all kinds of pet names including “beautiful, beauty, gorgeous, hottie,...” but you never really caught on to it.

You were taking care of your body and you enjoyed putting on trendy clothes and a little bit of makeup sometimes too with nice hairstyles.

But you never really thought anything about the way people were watching you. Why would you care as long as everyone was nice to you?

You were used to boys asking you to carry your stuff, and you didn’t see why you should refuse it.

If people wanted to be kind to you, why shouldn’t you take the opportunity?

(Plus your bag always crumpled your tops and you really didn’t like that at all.)

It also often happened that boys tried to kiss you at parties or in your daily life, especially when you were getting along with them or when they were too drunk to realise how stupid they were.

You had to admit that now that you had Billy by your side it was a little bit different. In a good way.

He was protective.

And you were enjoying your time with him. He was cute and funny and intense.

He was so hot.

But you couldn’t imagine that he could want you. He had a girlfriend, anyways.

He was always doing his best to avoid Sidney when you were at parties so he could spend time with you, flirting with you and making sure no one else was talking to you.

He was getting very possessive with you, and the fact you didn’t seem to catch on how much he desired you was only fueling his desire to have you all his.

When he needed to go play with Sidney, he was asking Stu to stay with you. Not that he particularly trusts his friend in the presence of such a hot girl, but it was better than having you with someone he didn’t like or didn’t know.

Billy and Stu often wondered if you were stupid though.

You never caught on to the flirting.

You never seemed to understand their “subtle” remarks about your body.

You never understood either when they were calling you “hot stuff”.

You always giggled and rolled their eyes at them “I’m not hot, I’m just a girl”.

And unlike any other girls Billy flirted with, while being with Sidney, you didn’t play with the situation. It was actually confusing you a lot

“I thought you were dating that girl… what was her name again…?”

“Sidney. Yes I'm dating her and…?”

“Oh well, then maybe you shouldn’t invite me to your place at night… I’m not sure she would be happy about that”

“I’m not planning on telling her, you know. And you neither”

“I don’t even know who she is! But really… why do you want me to come over anyways?”

You were really making things hard for Billy.

But because you weren't noticing anything, he thought you might make things easier for Ghostface: you would never be suspicious of him.

He even thought that you would be pretty easy to kill… but he really didn’t want that. It would be a waste.

And one day, you would be his, body and soul.

Or he would go insane.

[yourlittlettoy]

Alright, it’s long overdue but let’s finally get a lil intro post going ☺️

Hi everyone!! My name is Cece 💕👋🏻 it’s so very nice to see you here 🥰😉

My pronouns are she/her 🎀 , I’m in my 20s 🙆🏻‍♀️, I’m bisexual 🤝🏻, and I’m a… lee 🙈 (18+ only on this account pls and thx ☺️)

T-wording (yeah yeah I can’t say the t-word, sue me lmao) is certainly my main kink, but I may or may not also have certain other “preferences” as well 😳 but you’ll have to find those out yourself if you were so inclined ~

I’m a shy gal, despite sharing more than a reasonable amount of traits as a typical golden retriever lol. I’m very nerdy, enthusiastic, curious to a fault, certified member of the good girl’s club 😇, and have so much love 4 u 💖💘💗!! However, unfortunately for you, even the love won’t stop me from being a serious pain in the butt. Consider this your warning ⚠️😂.

Last thing I really want to mention, is that I am not good at being consistent when it comes to responding to messages/asks. I just want to make it clear right now that: my response times or responses at all (or potentially lack thereof) does not reflect a lack of affection and/or enthusiasm towards getting to know you, valuing you, or appreciating your interaction! I truly am so thankful for each and every one of you that take time out of your day to reach out/interact with lil ol’ me 🥺 and in a perfect world I would be responding to everything and everyone with full attention and time devotion! I just also lead a busy life outside of Tumblr and often time is simply scarce. Please grant me this grace 😊 and believe me when I say I LOVE READING ALL YOUR INTERACTIONS whether I have a chance to tell you that in a response or not! Thank you for this treat even though I can’t always reciprocate 💞 (feel free to double/triple etc message to keep yourself at the top of my inbox if you really want a response tho! Cause believe me I wanna give it to you! So the frequent reminder helps!)

Anyway, if you made it all the way here, thank you for reading my intro post!! Welcome to my blog! Hope you enjoy your stay here 😚💝 stay lovely ✨💫⭐️

[questwithambition]

For the questions: 11, 14, 19? And happy new year!

Thanks so much for asking (and for giving me a chance to ramble about books!). Happy new year to you too lovely, hope it’s an amazing one 🤍

11. Something you want to do again next year?

I answered here but I’ll add on something else! I discovered the joys of random phone calls with friends, and email as a form of communication. Both work far better than text, and have been wonderful ways to stay in touch. So more of it!

14. Favourite book you read this year?

Im going to list a few because you cannot stop me from talking about books.

All time fav? Babel, RF Kuang. This one really lives up to its hype (I was doubtful too!). Incredible writing and plot, with a beautiful examination of languages but also the impact they have on communities and people, as well as facing Britains history face on. I devoured this book. It hit me. It sent me researching a million Wikipedia pages about languages and hour long discussions with a friend. 10/10

Non fiction? You’re getting two. David Attenborough’s biography A Life on Air (great writing, great learning, someone even more respect for the man); and Lottie Möllers Bees and Their Keepers (a discovery of beekeeping across the world and time, with the most gorgeous photos and illustrations).

I also have to shout of A day of fallen night by Samantha Shannon, a book that took me forever to read (not the books fault, blame the diss), but it has the most beautiful lyrical writing, some characters that I care about so much, and ladies riding dragons / wielding swords. What more does a gal need? Plus I has the chance to meet SS live at a signing and boy my brain short circuited which I did not expect.

19. What are you excited about for the next year?

Biggest excitement is being able to step foot into a dance studio again! But in the meantime I’m excited for my recovery from surgery, I’m starting to feel more confident and abled, and I can’t wait to continue moving forward. I actually walked on my own to the nearest grocery shop, bought a few things, and walked back on my own today for the first time since the surgery!!! Which is a huge achievement!!! So we’re heading in the right direction :)

From the end of year asks

[iintotheunkncwn]

Here’s my whole stance on the James Gunn comment that’s recently come to light…

Now… a few things have come up since the infamous post from Henry Cavill as to why he’s not Supes anymore and whatnot. Some of it even from Gunn himself and I find it quite interesting.

To me, it sounds like he is trying to do some damage control because everyone is literally on his ass over the whole thing. And now that his future lineup is out there for people to see, even more people are on his ass for it. And honestly, his statements are very asshole-ish and I’m not about that shit.

So what you’re saying, Gunn, is you want a completely clean slate to start anew because it’s the future DC deserves. Okay, fine. I’m totally on board with that and I was in the very beginning. I truly believed and still do, that DC needed a whole new storyline. I wasn’t on board with getting rid of a fantastic cast (not including Ezra, and I’ll get to that in a minute). I’m still not happy with it but it is what it is and from the looks of it Gunn doesn’t care what the fans are screaming about so, here we are.

He (Gunn) says that ‘he never fired Henry, Henry was never casted’. Let’s clarify that Henry, indeed, was not hired BY GUNN. Henry was under the old regime and was fucked with. I’m aware that in my old post when everything happened, not only did I blame WB, I also blamed Gunn. But I now realize in light of things it wasn’t Gunn’s fault per se, but WB’s for being dicks to Henry and the way they did him dirty. Unfortunately, Henry got the shit end of the stick here and it really fucking sucks and I’m still mad about it.

NOW. Here is where I still dislike Gunn. Remember I mentioned Ezra earlier? Well here is my gripe with Gunn in this whole thing. You say you want a clean slate, start anew for a new era of superhero films, yet you keep an incredibly problematic man in your arsenal and on top of that, are allowing others within the Snyderverse to potentially keep their jobs as the characters they portrayed. Excuse me but…tell me how this makes ANY sense. I don’t give two shits if the film Ezra is in sets up your line of films. Scrap it like you’ve scrapped everything else with ease. Or edit Ezra out and put someone else in his place. Idk, work that movie magic however you want, but Ezra should not be utilized in any way for a multitude of reasons that a majority of people already know about.

Also, Jason, Gal, Duhwayne and Zachery are still able to keep their roles for potential future projects…when you wanted a clean slate and move away from what was already set up with the Snyderverse. And, yet again, Henry is cut out and gets the shit end of the stick for no reason other than ‘he is not right for this Superman’. Basically, Gunn in his own roundabout way, also screwed Henry from what I’m seeing on my end.

So tell me…how is anything I’ve touched base on, making any sense? Someone please explain this to me because my brain can’t wrap itself around this bit of info.

IF YOU WANT A CLEAN SLATE, GET RID OF EVERYONE WITHOUT EXCEPTIONS, GUNN. Rip that patched bandaid off with one clean swipe and let it be the end of an era to really start over like you’re claiming you want. What’s happening so far just makes everyone (WB, Gunn and Safran) look like even bigger idiots and the future of their films bleak AF. I’m not remotely excited for any of it, personally. The new lineup that was released yesterday is not making me jump for joy in any way or hold out hope for a franchise I have loved for years, and that is WB and Gunn/Safran’s doing.

If you read this far, thanks for coming to my TedTalk / rant. Also, please know that these are things that I personally feel and have observed, and are based on things I’ve read. Please go research things for yourself so you may form your own personal opinion, and if anyone would like to discuss this topic like adults without insults and the like, I am happy to do so. Problematic behavior in the comments / reblogs will not be replied to.

[parul206]

I’m not the kind of gal who waits for someone to figure out who or what they want.

I’ll never beg you to stay or chase you for attention.

If you want to be in my life, then I’ll embrace you with open arms.

If you choose to walk away, then I’ll wish you the best.

If you’re confused, undecided or otherwise trying to figure it out, then I’m going to ask you to make a choice.

I’m not going to wait around and hope that I’m good enough for you..

I know that I am- it’s up to you if you see that.

It doesn’t work that way in my world..not anymore.

There was once a time when I chased all the wrong people, vying for their attention and their affection..

I’m not doing any of that any more.

I’m done letting anyone dictate my happiness or expect me to wait on them.

If you don’t know if I’m the person for you, then I’ll help you out by walking away.

I know my worth and I know I’m a catch, so it’s not my fault if you don’t see what I do..

Someone else will realize my value the same way I do if you can’t step up and stand out.

I’m worthy of someone’s best and I’ll never again be anyone’s “maybe” or “possibly.”

I’ve been there, done and that always left me hurting and upset..

So forgive me if being an option isn’t something I’ll accept.

I’m not trying to rush you along or push the issue, but be fair and choose what will make us both happy.

If it’s not me, then let me go.

If I’m the one you want, then tell me..I’m really bad at guessing games, and I shouldn’t have to guess how you feel about me.

I always speak my mind and make my feelings known, so that’s what I expect in return.

I know you may think I drive a hard bargain, but I just know who I am and what I want.

So, instead of standing in the doorway to my heart, make your choice.

Don’t let your indecision block my heart off from someone else if you’re not into me.

Give me the respect and courtesy you’d want for yourself.

So, let’s walk away from each other for good or go chase some dreams together..

But whatever we do, let’s do it now.

Tomorrow is promised to no one,

So let’s start with making today beautiful..together or apart.

Either way, I’ll still be fabulous in the morning.🥀🌷

ravenwolf

[sanjisblackasswife]

I am really not sure if your requests are open, if not, just delete this😭 that will be mybad but if they are then-

I have been thinking about luffy with a mommy kink👧bye👋😭 that's it. Have a good day🙏 big fan

A/N: Oh wwoooowwwwwwww I never really cared for Mommy/Daddy kinks (I’m more of a ‘Yes sir/Captain’ gal HA) but I’ll try. I don’t mind the guy saying “Mommy” but i won’t have the reader say it too much because then it sounds like baby talk and that’s an ick for me 😭😂 hope u enjoy lol

Luffy with a Mommy Kink(NSFW)

Black Fem Reader in Mind

CW: Needy!Luffy, Use of Mommy (More on Luffy’s end than the Readers), Mutual Masturbation, Guided Masturbation, Oral, Cuddling

“Where the hell is Luffy?” You’ve been searching almost the entire ship. You needed to let him know that y’all were nearing a new island but somehow he isn’t around and it’s been driving you nuts.

Robin mentioned she seen him run over to your bedroom. The hell would he want in there?

“Ah!…damn it! Ah!” Luffy was shamelessly legs spread, all clothing on the floor fisting his shaft in the middle of your once clean bed. He didn’t know what got into him, but he had been watching you, Robin, and Nami play volleyball in the middle of the court earlier today. You had on a tied shirt and a bikini.

Maybe it was your glowing sun kissed skin, maybe it was your thighs and butt jiggling across the deck as you tried hitting the ball, maybe it was that pretty gold anklet you got for yourself with Luffy’s full name on it dangling off you, or maybe it was because you decided to let your natural curls breathe and wear a curly Afro and shaped your face so beautifully.

He didn’t know but he did know he became turned on. Luffy swears you have some kind of lustful devil fruit power because he can’t recall why he started feeling like this towards you. Your scent alone was all he needed to help him relieve himself so he knew the second best place to get your scent was in YOUR room in YOUR bed.

“Fuck…m-mommy..” was a regular occurring saying when he was alone. He doesn’t know why he calls you that but he seen one of Sanji’s kinky ass hentai cartoon books and in one of them the guy calls his wife “mommy.” He always wanted to call you that not even during sex but just in general but he wasn’t sure if you’d liked it.

He has even considered just getting you pregnant to have the excuse but he still wasn’t sure on that idea.

“Mommy…need you.” He whined trying to find at least something CLOSE to an orgasm. His fist became a blur, sweat was bearing down his forehead, frustrated.

He cuddled your body pillow you sleep with at night inhaling your scent. He felt absolutely no guilt doing this because this was all your fault of course. Luffy nearly started to dry hump your pillow when—

“What are you Doing?”

This was one of the few rare times Luffy felt afraid, he looked so tired in the eyes. He just couldn’t cum, he was so used to your mouth, your pussy, your—

“Y/NNNN COME HEREEE!” He cried legs still spread and cock still standing at attention. He looked like a pouting child, he didn’t even care anymore he was caught he needed to get release. And you were ganna give it to him.

You decided why the hell not he looked real hot being all needy, his hair was messy, and the sweat was all down his neck. You locked the door and climbed on top of him kissing his warm wet neck.

“T-take this off.” He groaned, untying your top immediately squeezing and fondling your breast with one hand, “these too…”

You sat on your knees as he was tugging at your bikini, not even half way down your thighs he was greedily trying to squeeze his hand between them to rub your clit but you stop him,

“Ah. Ah….you have to speak up…” you pushed him back on the headboard, “Tell mommy what you want..”

Luffy breathed out one of the prettiest raspy moans you ever heard him do. You bit your lip at his reaction and your suspicion was right.

He does like calling you mommy.

“Mommy …please…fuck me.”

It was kinda hot hearing him beg. Granted you never had a mommy kink yourself but how it sounded coming out of his mouth was so perfect.

You didn’t waste anytime pulling off the rest of your clothing and spreading your legs in front of him.

“Just Watch me okay?” You sucked on your two fingers to let the string of spit fly out you mouth and dribble down Luffy’s eyes didnt leave your fingers. You began rolling the tips of them on your clit breaking a moan out of you. Luffy was in a daze watching your play with yourself he spit on his cock and began to stroke at a more slower pace to match you.

He was silently panting away at the sight of your gooey cunt in front of him.

“Just Like—ah! That…go faster!”

You started to see how his thumb was rubbing up and down his slit looking very close to cumming. You’d be lying if you wasn’t close yourself just by watching him watch you, but you wanted to try something.

“I’m..cu—Y/N!”

You move his hand away and begin to wrap your lips around his cock, it was hot and twitching from the amount of strokes he did, you began to suck and twirl your cool tongue all around it very messily to rush his orgasm.

Luffy’s eyes rolled back into his head, grappling your soft curls and squirming under you just barely breaking out the words “M-mommy!” But they were interrupted by his cum being swallowed down your throat.

You popped off with a loud smack a a spit of string on your mouth and smashed your lips on to his leaving open mouthed kisses on his tongue that was nearly hanging out his mouth.

“You okay?” You cupped his cheeks peppering his face with kisses and he began to giggle under your sweet touch.

“‘M better…thank you…mommy.”

“Where the hell did you learn that?” You laughed seeing him all flustered and exposed so he buries his face in your tummy with his muscular arms under the cup of your butt.

“Ion know..I just like calling you that.”

“Goodness, Lu don’t tell me you have a mommy kink.” You playfully groaned rubbing his damp hair.

“Shut up!” He swatted your butt and gripped it tightly, “It’s your fault I knew you had a lustful DF Power!”

“I TOLD YOU I DON’T!”

[youranemicvampire]

Thoughts on First Kill (2022) with spoilers

I’m having a First kill brain rot so i’m just gonna let this all out. Just my personal opinions :)

Well, the theme song is cute, but tbh i really don’t like the intro itself. I know it is supposed to be campy, but they could do better. I don’t know if it’s possible to change it next season, but i hope they do. And i don’t think the budget was the problem on that aspect. 

Speaking of budget, it’s not their fault and as a non-scifi gal, it’s not a big deal to me. But again, i hope the cgi will get better next season especially the fighting choreography. 

The poor quality flashbacks was maybe my another complaint coz you don’t have to have a big budget to give it a decent editing. 

WOMEN. all of them. 

I like how the men on here were either their brothers, dads and a gay best friend so there’s no room for shipping any man with Calliette. They’re lesbians, but we know these straight stans. 

Variety was soooo wrong for calling this a tired take because it actually broke a lot stereotypes. An openly gay jock? Awkward vampire? Dark-skinned black woman lead who is being pinned on? Matriarchal family? Not to mention a lesbian show without those bury your gays trope and whatnots?

I usually like slow-burns, but they have soooo much chemistry that this worked. I smile like crazy even in those awkward interaction and eye contacts.

Tired of interracial sapphic couples that always include a white woman, but Jules is special. Sarah Catherine gave her justice and i can’t see anyone being casted for that role. As someone with anxiety, she nailed everything especially the posture and mannerisms. And it wasn’t over the top. +Jules is soooo cute and charming. 

Cal reminds me of those intimidating girls in high school that is impossible not to have a crush on. I understand SC’s reaction on the chemistry read coz Imani has this intimidating stare that is sooo hot, strong and mysterious. If you can’t see Cal being down bad, look at her eyes. It’s very expressive. 

I hate those takes that said we’re only hyping it for representation coz i genuinely enjoyed it. I’m a lesbian, but i think i’ve only consumed like 10-15 sapphic media and liked maybe 5-8 of them. That’s how picky i am. 

The kissing and make-out scenes? Oh god. I’m serious when i say this is the best or one of the bests i’ve seen (straights included). It is so passionate and authentic. Idk where that “male gaze” came from. The person who said that was dumb i’m sorry. 

The dialogue is another thing that needs improvement. The intent is there, just write it more natural

They really casted a rando for Noah Harrington lmao

If u hate Cal, i’ll just assume you’re a racist because she literally did nothing wrong. She’s down bad for Juliette. Her character is just different and her reaction to what went down is valid and natural, come on. 

I want to point that the S*x dream at the start was so important? Because being a lesbian teenager who is sexually attracted to another woman is NORMAL! and it doesn’t make them a dirty predator. 

The evil vampire twins are so exciting!

I hope the Burns will learn that not all vampires are monsters because of Theo. 

Not exclusive to First kill, but excess blood from the Hospital should just be given to vampires idk. Or u know, period blood if they’re not picky. In that way, Humans and vampires can live together in harmony. 

I love that Juliette’s parents were also forbidden lovers. idk it’s refreshing. 

Idk if i want a musical episode, but i want Juliette to serenade cal. Then Imani on the soundtrack. 

Yes to Elinor being bisexual. Make them all queer tbh!

That’s it for now. Just want to say to those who are hating, that no one is forcing you to watch, but to be an edgy hag that had to shit on the show in public (not on constructive way)? Sapphics are working so hard for this to be renewed and the diverse cast and crew put their hearts on it because it meant a lot to us, then you’re just gonna ruin it because you want to show how different you are? Come on. 

[thefanficmonster]

corpse x reader headcanon where corpse talks about how his s/o has severe abandonment issues and is really clingy and he doesnt mind it despite haters saying otherwise?

Oooh this is gonna be a bit angsty, just a heads up. Still, I hope you enjoy it ~ 💕

Pairing: Corpse Husband x Reader (Gender Neutral)

Warnings: Swearing, Angst, Fear of abandonment, Past relationship trauma

- You'd never had someone like this

- Someone to talk to about anything

- Someone to hold your hand through everything

- Someone to feel for you and you for them

- You never thought you'd find that someone either

- You had given up on the hopes long ago so you reluctance at the beginning of your relationship with Corpse was completely understandable

- You were quick to speak on your concerns, all those little demons that arise in your head whenever you step in a new relationship of any kind, especially romantic

- The way you grew attached to people so quickly and so strongly could easily be used against you one way or another

- And, more often than not, the people you found yourself in a relationship with used it to their advantage, not giving a crap that they were hurting you in the process

- It always seemed to be the same pattern: you met someone, grew attached, became prepared to do anything to avoid losing them (even things you wouldn't typically agree to), they'd use you, they'd leave you and you'd still think it was all your fault

- Getting yourself hurt over and over again didn’t stop you from getting attached to a person just as or even more intensely the next time around

- All you wanted was someone who’d stay

- All you wanted was for people to stop leaving you

- And Corpse was quick to become that someone to you

- Seeing his caring and endearing nature, you immediately started feeling bold, well as bold as you could be after so many falls in your life

- He wasn’t simply sympathetic when you expressed your struggles to him but he also understood them to a new level

- A level close to the one you’ve been on all your life

- That’s why the connection between the two of you was immediately stronger in comparison to any other you may have felt

- Truth be told, there was never really a connection with those people before him, the ones who left you, you just wanted someone by your side and didn’t allow yourself to see your worth to avoid picking the wrong choices

- To you it always seemed like you were the wrong choice

- But still, Corpse chose you, he chose to stay

- Cause he wanted to, cause he loved and cared for you

- That being said, you two have rarely been apart since you got together

- You’ve been joining him on his streams, either just hanging out in the recording room with him or even playing with him and his friends if he manages to convince

- He rarely succeeds though, seeing as how you’re very timid when it comes to his friend group, a shyness you can’t quite explain

- It applies to his stream in general too

- You don’t want to think about how many eyes and ears are observing you when you’re playing 

- And you had every right to be concerned about being so exposed, mostly cause people - jealous people aka haters - used this exposure of yours to look for your flaws and use them to speak negatively of you online

- Luckily, Corpse was quick to catch onto the things being said about you and to say he wasn’t happy about it would be an understatement 

- He refused to let anyone speak ill of you and the comments they were making about you - calling you a clingy, annoying gold-digger - lit a feverous, angry fire in him, rendering him restless until he ultimately faced all those haters behind their screens head-on

- He organized a whole stream to address this issue, delicately explaining the situation, your relationship and your abandonment issues

- He made it clear that what they refer to as ‘clinginess’ to him is the affection he’s always wanted to receive but never thought he would because of how closed-off he is and how little human interaction he gets in his daily life

- “What you call clinginess has turned me into a better person. And who you call an annoying gold digger is the love of my life. So watch yourselves, you can talk shit about me all you want, but one bad word about Y/N is more than enough to set me off. They deserve nothing but the best this world has to offer and they’re most certainly not deserving of all this hate you throw their way because you are unhappy with yourselves”

- Little did he know you were listening to his whole speech, tears brimming your eyes as his words sunk in, repeating in your head over and over again

- It was his promise to never have you hurt, to never break your heart, to never get tired of you

- To never abandon you

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[infernalrevenge]

Hello, hello! I was wondering if I could possibly request your take on Reader and each of the Dimitrescu Daughters with how they show affection? Nuzzles, kisses, hugs/snuggles, terms of endearment, gifts, nsfw, etc. One big fluff-ball. Just bury me in the warm fuzzy. Thank you!

This is excellent timing, anon friendo because I had been thinking of making a Love Languages Headcanon List for some time now, so this is a great way to start on that! I hope this satisfies your mushy fluffy warm fuzzball desires (that I kept relatively PG) :P

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

Bela Dimitrescu

Bela felt that she had a reputation to uphold as the eldest daughter of the Dimitrescu family, ever so meticulous yet also eager to please. But she does know her boundaries.

More often than not, she finds herself busy with her mother in helping run the business, hoping to one day become a proper heir. I mention all this so you know her situation -- she's a working gal and you gotta respect that.

However, she is not one to leave her loved ones hanging. The best way she shows her love is by spending quality time with you, doing things that you might enjoy. It gives her a chance to better get to know her love.

Of course she would have her way as well, doing activities she liked such as art, music, and more. You two might even try something new to the both of you, just for some added thrill.

It doesn't always have to be "something" to do though, she's more than happy to just simply be in the same space as you while you do your own thing. That counts as "doing something together", right?

You could be reading a book on one corner of the room and she could be reviewing some important notes on the bed, but you two are just so comfortable in the quiet space you've made for yourselves that it feels like you two are side-by-side.

She just likes to know you're there, your presence alone is a great source of comfort to her. She loves to see you happy and content, especially knowing it's because she's around. Once you get into it, there is no such thing as an awkward silence between the two of you.

I imagine she's not that big on initiating physical affection, but she would be hard pressed to deny you anything. From something as simple as holding her hand, to spooning and cuddling, to a full-on make out session -- all you have to do is ask. She's more than happy to deliver.

Her favorite position is being the big spoon in bed, finding a lot of comfort in knowing that you are in her grasp, safe and sound. She also enjoys planting a few kisses on your shoulder and neck in an attempt to rouse you from slumber.

While she was still courting you (because I like to imagine she's a bit of an old-fashioned romantic, but she would have courted you regardless of your gender), she would often bring you gifts. They weren't extravagant, but they were definitely meaningful, and often related to things you two had talked about in the past.

She didn't use pet names very often but she will call you "love" on occasion, especially if there was a chance you would call her that in return. She may not openly admit it but she just melts every time you call her that -- made it feel like having a crush on you all over again.

Even though she may seem distant on the outside, Bela is truly a woman who makes the most of her time with people she cares about. You are no exception to that, and she wants that to be known to you as much and as often as possible.

Cassandra Dimitrescu

Cassandra, much like her older sister, believes she too has a reputation to uphold within the family. Can't have her be seen going soft for just anyone.

But uh, plot twist: Girl just wants to be loved, and she doesn't even know it.

In private, she really really loves physical affection. She shows her love by clinging onto you as tightly as possible, melding so closely to you that it becomes hard to tell where her body ended and yours began.

She loves pressing her cheek and ear against your chest to hear the calming beat of your heart, the warmth of your skin just under her fingertips, and her head tucked right under your chin while you two lay in bed together.

Truthfully, she started doing this when you first got together because she enjoyed how flustered you seemed when she basically had herself wrapped around you. But over time, the both of you realized just how much she liked being this close to you too. You teased her for it once and she shut you out of your own room for a while. (She only let you back in because she suddenly missed cuddling you.)

This was a trait that kind of carried over from her hunting instincts, but she was very observant of others -- their tics, habits, routines, and all the like. She took notice of a lot of things other people did, didn't do, and couldn't do. It made her very attentive to her loved ones.

This manifested in the form of performing acts of service. Toward you, it ranged from simple things like keeping objects that were usually out of your reach to a more manageable height (either by her own action or an order to a servant) to helping you relax after a long and tiring day, to even performing your chores for you if she knew you were having a hard time with them.

Anything that she could help with to make herself useful, she would do. She wanted her loved ones to move around comfortably and without much worry, and she would take on that burden if that was what it took.

Granted it didn't necessarily mean she did well in these endeavors, but the effort did not go unnoticed. And you would never see the girl try to half-ass anything -- once she started on a task, you bet your sweet ass she was going to get it done too.

Her terms of "endearment" were very teasing and, out of context, could be downright insulting. You would never hear anything so generic as "baby" or "sweetie" (unless she was being condescending.) "Little shit" (affectionate) was more her speed.

If you also called her nicknames with a similar amount of creativity, she would return it with the same enthusiasm. She didn't take those things to heart anyway. If insults were a love language, this would be one of hers.

Cassandra is a little rough around the edges when it comes to love and intimacy, but she loves so fiercely. It's like a fire, raging on the more you feed its maw -- the only difference is that this fire would never die out.

Daniela Dimitrescu

Daniela is the most affectionate and most likely to be a hopeless romantic in the family. She always daydreamed of having a "knight in shining armor" of her own, but honestly she'll take anyone who would love her for herself.

Definitely the type to show off her wonderful significant other, either "subtly" through a bit of PDA, or more overtly through a lot of PDA and more grand gestures of love. Just let her do this, she has so much love to give and she needs that energy to go somewhere.

Even in private spaces, she would never let go of your hand if she had her way. Trying to separate from her when she wasn't in the mood would get you the "kicked puppy dog" treatment from her. It's not her fault you were so warm and nice to be around.

She loves being the little spoon in bed. There's just something reassuring about having a warm presence right behind her, your arms wrapped around her middle. You could even kick a leg on top of her waist -- all she wants is to get as close to you as she possibly can.

When you're working on a desk and sitting on a chair, she will inevitably sit on your lap and snuggle up against you while you try to do whatever it is you're doing. No matter how many times she promises that "you won't even know she's there", it's kind of hard to ignore the way she just buries her face into your neck and the little snores coming out of her if she falls asleep like this.

Calls you very cheesy and almost strange pet names like "honey pie" and "sweetie baby boo". You're never sure if she actually meant them or was messing with you because of her tone, but you can tell she was always amused by your reaction to them, which was part of the reason she kept saying them.

She did also have an inner poet though, so she may suddenly pull lines like "the moon to my night" that would make you stumble and wonder what had possessed your girlfriend. And then you would remember how much she enjoyed reading romance novels, so it made more sense.

Sometimes she'll pull them out early in the morning right as you two were just waking up, limbs entangled with the other's. Then you'd hear her call you "light of my life" in her deep sleepy voice, and you just have to hide the big goofy smile on your face behind a pillow or something.

She also loves to give you gifts, mostly because she liked how your face would light up whenever you received one. Oftentimes, they are little trinkets that remind her of you that she spotted one day and thought to give to you. Kind of like a cat presenting a dead mouse or bird to its owner, but not as gross.

She says "I love you" and any similar declarations pretty often, but the words never lose their meaning. Just know that she always says them with her whole heart, regardless of the tone she takes on when she does.

She also enjoys doing random acts of affection because she likes seeing how you react to them, whether you get all blushy and a little embarrassed, or you return them in kind. Either way, she is very happy and it gives her the warm fuzzies when you play along.

Like I said, Daniela just has so much love to give, and she would be so happy to see that energy enthusiastically returned. Just give her a chance and you'll never have to doubt her feelings for you.

[firegoddess96]

Love is blind- Loki

Summary: You join an experiment for Shield Corp’s new dating app. You must see if you can find the one to spend your life with sight unseen. Your heart is set on Loki, but will your differences outweigh your love? Will you stand at the alter and say I DO? 

Pairing: Loki X Reader (Plus Size) 

Warnings: Talk of grief, Fluff, Eventual smut, Mutual pining, some angst.

Chapter 1:

               “Is love blind, can an emotional connection be strong enough to last a lifetime? Over the course of this experiment, we hope to not only find the answer. Over the next 2 weeks the 14 of you in this room will be dating 14 other individuals in another section of the estate but will never see their faces. That is until you find the one you think is your perfect match, get a proposal, AND a yes.” Nick Fury stood imposingly in front of the group of women, while his colleague Maria Hill was giving us a hopeful smile. “Are you ladies ready to meet your potential husbands?” Fury smirked at all of us like a cat does a mouse. And I couldn’t help but question what I had gotten myself into.

                 Six months ago, I lost my dad. He was my best friend and the person I could always rely on. My mom was devastated, he was her other half. I’ve never seen a connection like theirs anywhere else, they understood everything the other needed without question. They moved as one and finished each other’s sentences, they made it look so effortless. I’ve spent my whole life looking for that connection, my equal who will understand me completely.

In today’s world of “dating” apps where love = dick pics and messy one night stands that end in you being ghosted, my view on love isn’t exactly the standard anymore. It doesn’t help either that most of the guys are superficial pigs who neg woman for their skin color, fashion sense and most commonly, their size. As a size 22, I’m not exactly what most go for. I can’t count the number of comments I’ve received over the years on dates. “Don’t worry, you’ll lose the weight”, “You’d be so pretty if you just ate a salad”, “You looked smaller in your pics, stop fishing using angles.”

Fuck them! My diet is balanced, and I do cardio and strength training. I’m just curvy. Not my fault that they can’t handle all I have to give. I love my body, now I just need to meet the man who can handle all of me. And that’s when I got the ad, an email from the ShieldsDown app, the dating app made by Shield Corp. designed for serious relationships only. I had applied and was pending approval, only to get an invitation to participate in their latest experiment. Why not? Let’s just hope I don’t get my heart broken; a gal can only take so much. I smiled at the screen as I press accept.

               Now I’m one in a room of 14 beautiful women, all shapes, sizes, and shades, all awaiting the green light to enter their pods. Some of them seem great, like my roommate Nat, a beautiful red head with a light creamy complexion, she has a slight accent, but I can’t place it. Then there’s Pepper, a gorgeous and very thin woman dressed in designer clothing, such an elegant poise to her. A few others seemed nice enough, a young red head named Wanda, an enchanting woman with mocha skin, a shaved head and serious expression named Okoye, those are just a few that I’ve bonded with. But not everyone is very supportive of the “competition” as some put it. One being a blonde girl next door type named Sharon, her face is pretty, and her hair is a nice style, but her personality is so toxic. I’m already done with her, and we only met 4 hours ago.

               A buzzer sounded and the lights by our doors turned green, signaling that our pods were ready for our first dates. I turned to my new friends and looked them each in the eye with a nervous smile. Wanda looked excited, Nat looked bored, and Pepper was so nervous she was wiping her palms on her Gucci pantsuit.

“Good luck ladies” I forced passed the lump in my throat as I opened the door to my future.  “Wish me luck Daddy, I think this is it.”

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

               “Hello Darling, who do I have the pleasure of speaking to?” a smooth silky monotone voice greeted me. I couldn’t help the flush rising in my cheek.

God, why did the first one have to be British? I love accents! I can already feel my knees getting weaker. SHIT!! How long has it been since he spoke? Get it together Y/N!

“Y/N, and the gentleman with the delicious accent would be?” I replied, grateful that my voice wasn’t as shaky as my legs.

I heard a deep chuckle from the other side of the wall. “Loki darling, a pleasure.”

Inspecting the room as a distraction, I realized it only contained a large sofa and a coffee table, both facing a wall with a light up blue stained-glass wall with a speaker on each side. I got settled in while I asked him about his room, to which he replied with similar descriptions. After that topic was used up an awkward silence started to creep in.

“Ok, I’ll just say what we are both thinking. This is weird.” I break the tense silence and hear another chuckle. “Admit it, it’s true. I mean we are talking through speakers near a wall to a Stanger, who may or may not be our spouse in one month.”

“It is quite odd, never really thought this would be how I’d find my partner. Or that I’d even get a say.” The last sentence was almost mumbled, as if it was an after thought spoken aloud.

“Wait, so is your family into arranged marriages, is that what I’m hearing?”

“Technically yes, the only exception being that my parents, well adopted parents, chose each other. So, they felt like it was fate that they were paired together.” His voice sounded so wistful when he spoke about them, you couldn’t help but pick up on certain things.

“You lost them.” It wasn’t a question, he spoke about them with a love and sadness that you understood completely, the same way you sounded when you talked about your dad. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

There was a stunned pause, “How?” he questioned. “You too.” In that moment he felt at ease, someone else understood his pain. They didn’t pity him for his loss, they just felt a shared pain of their own.

“Yeah, my dad. He passed back in July.” The tears were falling silently down your face. You laughed the pain away. “And this is why I suck at dating! First 5 minutes and I’m talking about death. So romantic.” He laughs with you, “I think the blame for this interesting turn of conversation rests on both of us Darling, not just you. And as far as death, I’ve delt with my fair share of loss. When opening up to someone it’s inevitable that the topic with take a grim turn at some point. I rather like that we got it out of the way early on.” I could almost feel his warm smile as he spoke to me.

               Over the next hour we stayed on lighter topics, do we have any siblings, our favorite subjects from school, and even most played song this year. Loki has one brother and one sister, both his father’s biological children, but the oldest, Hela, was from a previous marriage. Loki’s favorite subjects were English, theatre and music, very unsurprising as he seems highly educated and elegant in his speech. His most played song, however, was very surprising. Hank Williams’ Hey Good Lookin, which I got a rendition of as proof. He even makes my southern accent sound sexy, damn.

               We were interrupted by the buzzer and red light near our separate exits. I let out an involuntary sigh, my disappointment evident.

“I don’t want to leave either Darling, but rest assured you will be hearing from me again. Very soon.” Loki smiled at the glass on his side.

A smile light up my face, “If we must. I fear I may be bored until then Loki, so try to make it quick.” Our light banter coming naturally as if we had known each other for years instead of minutes.”

“Until then darling.” He heard the click of her door closing and with that sound his heart sealing on her. His Y/N, she was the one. He just knew it. Mother help him, is this how Odin felt when he met Frigga? If so, he understood why his father made the nine realms bow to him to keep her safe. He would do anything for this witty, energetic, and enchanting woman, and he had yet to even see her face.

[sapio-sensual-affair]

I’m not the kind of gal who waits for someone to figure out who or what they want.

I’ll never beg you to stay or chase you for attention.

If you want to be in my life, then I’ll embrace you with open arms.

If you choose to walk away, then I’ll wish you the best.

If you’re confused, undecided or otherwise trying to figure it out, then I’m going to ask you to make a choice.

I’m not going to wait around and hope that I’m good enough for you..

I know that I am- it’s up to you if you see that.

It doesn’t work that way in my world..not anymore.

There was once a time when I chased all the wrong people, vying for their attention and their affection..

I kissed all the wrong frogs hoping they were the prince when I knew deep down, they weren’t.

I’m not doing any of that any more.

I’m done letting anyone dictate my happiness or expect me to wait on them.

If you don’t know if I’m the person for you, then I’ll help you out by walking away.

I know my worth and I know I’m a catch, so it’s not my fault if you don’t see what I do..

Someone else will realize my value the same way I do if you can’t step up and stand out.

I’m worthy of someone’s best and I’ll never again be anyone’s “maybe” or “possibly.”

I’ve been there, done and that always left me hurting and upset..

So forgive me if being an option isn’t something I’ll accept.

I’m not trying to rush you along or push the issue, but be fair and choose what will make us both happy.

If it’s not me, then let me go.

If I’m the one you want, then tell me..I’m really bad at guessing games, and I shouldn’t have to guess how you feel about me.

I always speak my mind and make my feelings known, so that’s what I expect in return.

I know you may think I drive a hard bargain, but I just know who I am and what I want.

So, instead of standing in the doorway to my heart, make your choice.

Don’t let your indecision block my heart off from someone else if you’re not into me.

Give me the respect and courtesy you’d want for yourself.

So, let’s walk away from each other for good or go chase some dreams together..

But whatever we do, let’s do it now.

Tomorrow is promised to no one,

So let’s start with making today beautiful..together or apart.

Either way, I’ll still be fabulous in the morning.