#days 8-13 are coming tho

[duckysprouts]

can i have teenage dirtbag dick grayson hcs pls?? my parents are getting divorced i want to relate to him

in high school, dick was… interesting

1. he went to a prestigious private school with uniforms and never wore it properly. sometimes he would wear his gymnastics jacket over the summer dress shirt to hide the bruises and bandages that would peek through when he sweats. other times he would lie and say it was a sports accident

2. always red eyes. could have been weed, insomnia, or his daily breakdown in the bathroom

3. literally never shows up on time and comes up with increasingly wild excuses for why. still the top of the class

4. dyed his hair and wore jewellery even tho it was against code. they still let him keep it cause he was captain of the mathletes team and they couldn’t afford to lose him to win nationals

5. carries a pot and portable stove in his bag so he can make hangover ramen in class

6. hands always had bandages and sports tape

7. they made him get rid of his sneakers and wear dress shoes, so he started wearing weird socks instead. the worst was when he wore the grippy socks he stole from the mental health center

8. would pick up jason from book club and scare the shit out of everyone

9. got into fights a LOT. bruce sent a lot of gift baskets to the rich parents of the kids. but he secretly thought dick was in the right so all the gifts consisted of things he knew the family hated or were allergic to

10. regulated inconsistently between “energetic popular guy who is witty and fun to be around” and “dead inside” many times throughout the day

11. once borrowed a wax pen thinking it was a vape and was SO high for a geology exam that he resorted to licking the rock samples to identify them. he got a 98% on it, 2% off for spelling his name wrong

12. once stabbed himself with an epipen to stay awake long enough to study, nearly pissed himself

13. set the back of his hair on fire during patrol in sophomore year and had a reverse mullet for a few months (see picture)

[tan1shere]

Come To Me

Billie Eilish x female reader !

A/n: a lil lot self reflective ? I have a parent that is homophobic, it's a horrible thing but its sadly reality. I got this idea so I hope you enjoy. I notice how protective and caring Billie can get over the ones she loves :)

Summary: it was taking a toll on you, you couldn't handle how he treated you anymore it was just too much, so when you announced your new girlfriend in hopes he'd just understand, that's when things go south.

Warnings: angst angst angst, fluff at the end tho ! Homophobic parent.

Masterlist

It wasn't your fault. But it truly seemed like it. You lived with your dad for years, ever since you were 5, your mother had never been around so it was just the two of you. Everything was great he was sweet to you. That was until you got to the age of about 7 or 8, he started to not care as much. And it was always confusing when he did. You just wished he'd show it all the time. Not just when he felt like it. So it came a shock to him when you first said you might like girls. You were 13 and had a suspicion that you could infact like females.

"Don't be ridiculous. You'll settle down with a man, you don't even know what you want yet."

And that suck in your brain for years, you didn't truly see how horrible he ended up until later on. 16. You had genuinely figured out that you were into girls, you had your first kiss with one that year and it showed you how you that was. That was what you wanted. You wanted to be with girls. Kiss them. Make love with one. But it frightened you, as you were still living with your father, what he had said scared you. You had to pretend that you did like guys. Fake who you genuinely were. It was tiring by the age of 18.

So you decided to move out, be on your own where you wouldn't worry about accidentally saying how you loved women. Whenever you were on the phone with your friend you'd have to make sure none of you said anything along the lines, incase he listened. Incase he heard how 'a wrong thing' you felt was.

Now we are in the present. You had just turned 21, chilling out in your apartment. Watching something random on the TV. You had just been to see your girlfriend, Billie. When your phone dings.

Dad. ...

Hey angel, want to come round for some drinks to celebrate a late birthday?

You stare at it for a moment, you absolutely hated whenever he'd be sweet to you. It always seemed fake, even if he wasn't. It never ever lasted even when you moved out you'd get yelled at for fucking breathing. You couldn't escape it, not once. You take a moment not even sure if you want to, getting a bad feeling about it. But your dumbass says yes. Was it the name? It gave you hope he mightve actually loved you, and not because he has to. But it was never the case. He didn't love you. Unconditional love did not. Exist to him.

The door opens and you see him, he smiles and gives you a hug. But you hated this, you had tried to avoid seeing him for the past few years. You couldn't bare it. It would give you false hope that he changed. But there's no changing. Not now. So if you stayed away you wouldn't have to deal with him, deal with his niceness one day and horrible the next. As if you were a child again. Staying far away was the only option. You go into the house, putting the bottle of alcohol on the kitchen counter. "How have you been." He asks, following. "Not too bad, you?" "Same same." You nod, unsure of how to continue.

He seemed off, maybe he started drinking already. He claimed he wasn't an alcoholic but he really was. He had stopped in the past but nearly every night he'd drink, when you were a kid, teen, and even now. More so that he's retired. "So, anything new?"

I have a girlfriend and I'm gay.

"Not really no."

He nods, trying to find something to talk about. "I didn't make anything, but we can order something? Maybe McDonald's?" Your brows furrow just slightly. You use to always eat that when you were a kid, and maybe on the off occasion now but you hadn't had it in forever. "I don't really eat that anymore dad, maybe some Chinese or something." You then say, fiddling with your rings. "Yeah, that's fine. When did you stop eating it." You think for a second. "Maybe like 4 years ago?" The air was awkward again. Why was he acting as if he knew you. He truly knew nothing about you. Nor did he even try.

It had been an hour or so, you had got food and were trying to find some kind of topic to talk on. You had, had a few drinks. "Well, uhm was your birthday good?" You nod gently. "I spent it with some friends and I got a bunch of nice things too, from them and my gi-" You pause, but your mind said fuck it. You don't live with him anymore you live your own life now. "My girlfriend." He stares for a second. "Is this a new friend or that one you'd always call?" You sigh, he was ignoring the fact. He knew damn well. "I'm dating someone. A girl." More silence. Was it staying that way? Until he speaks. "You said that years ago, or something like it. Youre just confused still."

Something ignites in you. Maybe it was the alcohol or the pent up stress from your job but you fire back. "I know what I want and it's her. I'm far from confused." He shakes his head and goes to talk again but your anger wins, instantly shutting him up. "And no I don't have any interest in men I don't want to be with one. I don't want to marry one. But I think I have you to blame for that because you were the shittiest one in my life." You didn't want this to carry on, getting up and heading for the door. "Keep the booz I'm sure you'll drink it no problem." Now he was angry.

"Dont ever speak to me that way." You swiftly turn around. "Why? Because you know good and fucking well that it's the damn truth, that you're an alcoholic asshole, and a horrible father." Slap.

.....

Your worst fear came to reality. He'd never physically hurt you, always mentally. But you'd always wonder if he ever would, if something one day would really set him off and that was this moment. You hold your cheek as the sting spreads through your face, your finger moves to your nose feeling slight blood. Not much, but considering his strength it would definitely leave some marks. Everything was still. You didn't dare look at one another. "I don't ever want to see you again." You mumbled, but he heard. "Wait-" As if he felt guilty. He did that loud and proud. You just instantly turn around.

Heading for the door, he follows after but you were quicker to your car. "Y/n!" You were gone, never ever wanting to see him again. As you were driving slightly drunk you got a text from work and all you wanted to do was scream. Ofcourse they text right now. Then you got a call. Billie, you answer. "Hi." Your voice was slightly shakey but it wasn't evident through the speaker. "Hey! Was thinking about coming around, just got done with my shit for the day. I missed you." Your tears start pouring out, a sob escaping. "Baby?" You hear her say, you just hum in response. "What's going on you're worrying me." Her tone changed to tense. Serious. Then she heard your car in the background. Making her heart race like crazy. You had your phone on speaker but you put it down. "Pull over." She speaks, but your tears were firey. Your face stung. "Baby please pull over." She repeated.

After she got no reply again, she freaks out. You honestly couldn't hear her, your ears ringing and your mind fogged with everything that happened, you wanted to forget it all. Erase it from your brain. "Y/n, fucking pull over!" She screamed, that. You heard. Coming back to your senses and doing just that into a nearby gas station. She heard the car stop letting out a relived breath. "Jesus christ." She then says. "Where are you, please talk to me." She knew something horrible was up. You never ever wanted to bombard her with your past. Or even tell her about your father.

You told her tiny bits but not everything. Maybe it was time you did. But your slightly drunk state rejected that. "I'm fine, just needed to blow off some steam." You utter, so dry. So cold. And it was frustrating her she couldn't help. She couldn't do anything because she knew you were lying. She knew something wasn't right. "Where. Are. You." You let out a breath. "Talk later." She curses under her breath panicking as you hang up. How on earth was she going to find you. Your door opens as you get out of the car. Your intoxicated mind telling you too keep going. Maybe the sting on your face would ease.

You buy a bottle of whatever, going back out to your car to drink it. But soon the tears just come pouring out. All you wanted was to get home and curl up into bed. So you did, and you had 0 clue on how you made it, your vision blurry from the mix of tears and drunkenness. You had only just stepped through the door when your phone rings, but you had no energy to answer. Plopping your bag down on the floor, worrying about it later. You kick your shoes off somewhere. Also going to worry about them later. You fall to the floor, tears still coming down your cheeks, except this time your emotions had vanished. When yu hear your front door swing open.

Your head turns to see Billie standing there, worry and anger on her face. But the worrying look overtook it all. "What the fuck happened." Her brows knit together, noticing you're crying. "Fuck babe, I was terrified." Those emotions come back, seeing her face. And everything she brings with, her unconditional love. That's all you ever wanted. Was to truly feel that. You sob, heavy. And her heart just breaks, hurts to see you this way. Her hands make contact with your skin. "Did you fall over?" Her thumb swipes the growing bruise around your eye. "Fuck babe." She says more to herself. The redness on your check and the tiny dried up blood just beneath your nose. Your head shakes at her question. "Well you've been drinking, I can smell it. Did you drive home like this?" You nod, really not trusting your voice right now.

"Fuck." She lowers her head. "Don't do that shit, talk to me instead please." You hiccup trying to calm yourself down. "Hey hey, I'm not mad or anything yeah?" You nod "I know.. I'm just sorry." She purses her lips. "Don't be sorry, just talk to me. You know you can." Her thumb soothes over your face again, sensing you don't want to talk right now especially considering your state. "Come on." She softly says, grabbing your waist and getting you to stand. Your wobbly form almost makes you fall back down but her grip tightens. "Did someone do this to you?" Her face was almost back to angry again at the thought.

And when you anxiously don't reply her eyes widen. "Did they?" Your eyes shut for a second. But she drops the topic, taking you into your bathroom. She sits you up on the sink, grabbing a warm wet cloth. Gently wiping your face from the makeup you had on, the remainders that was. Your tears had ruined most of it. You then had the sudden urge to tell her, tears starting up again. "My dad.. He did it. I went to go see him and we drunkenly got into an argument and he hit me hard." Her face drops, hating seeing you in such distress, it hurt her. "S-so. I left and I didn't know what to do and-" You hiccup again but Billie just brings you in for a comforting well needed hug. You cry into her shoulder, letting everything over the years out. And you felt like you could with her.

You felt safe, that kinda safe that you've never felt before. Her hand rubs gently up your back landing in your hair, resting her chin ontop of your head. You sat like that for awhile until you had calmed down again. You tell her everything, sitting on your bed and explaining. "What a douche." She says shaking her head. You nod in response. "Thank you." You then blurt out. She was slightly confused. "What for?" - "For making me feel so safe. You're the only person in my life who does." She grabs your face, so delicately. And kisses you sweetly. You knew this is what you want, what you've always wanted. No man could ever make you feel so safe and comfortable.

"I always want you safe. You mean so much to me and when I heard you driving my heart sunk right down to the floor." You felt awful, you never knew anyone could worry that much about you. "I love you." She then says. And you believe her. You never ever believed anyone who told you those words. "I love you. So much." You then say with a bright smile. "Talk to me in future ok? I was so worried tonight. I just want to keep you safe." You nod, you most definitely were going to. After all. She was your everything, and more.

[pilfappreciator]

Brandi and Bruce’s S/o looking after the bakers dozen on their own, what shenanigans occur?

Anon this is?? Literally so cute what the hell??? Also referring to them as the "bakers dozen" is so genuis sfhjjfdadfggh—

Reader & the Bakers Dozen: babysitting solo

Includes: GN! Reader, mentions of polyamory, mentions of Vacay Lovers, slightly Parental! Reader, the Bakers Dozen

CW: Bruce Jr.

🍪 POV: your partners go off to some fancy convention to promote their business, leaving you to watch after all 13 of their kids. Chaos ensues

🍪 These little shits are already a lot to handle, so when you suddenly find yourself being the only adult in the house responsible for them? Yeah, babes, you've definitely got your hands full

🍪 Luckily, you've spent enught time at the Vacay Lovers household that things are at least a little easier for you lol

🍪 They definitely behave much better for you compared to other babysitters. Partly because you're smoochin their parents (and don't wanna get in trouble), and partly because they genuinely like you :3

🍪 But they're still little shits thru and thru, don't forget that

🍪 If they happen to have school? Chances are Bruce and Brandi already took care of their lunches and stuff before they left, so it'll be up to you to pick them up (WARNING: THE KIDS WILL TRY TO CONVINCE YOU TO GO ORDER AT THE NEAREST FAST FOOD PLACE! Unless you've got money for 13 happy meals, prepare to hit em with a firm refusal). Definitely helps if you blast some music in the van! They've kinda lost interest in Velvet & Veneer after learning the two literally tortured their dad and uncles...

🍪 Play Brozone. They'll go crazy and shout-sing along with Bruce's parts lol

🍪 Later in the day you can expect a few to come up to you for homework help. They might also wanna help with dinner, but fyi there WILL be a mess. Pasta sauce on the floor, flour all over the counters, stains on your clothes— the whole shebang

🍪 Want the least amount of casualties? Just let them set the table (no worries, all the plates and stuff are made of plastic ajdjakkala)

🍪 A few of them have some dietary restrictions tho so keep that in mind!! Luckily, you can always find a list of reminders/examples up on the fridge courtesy of lovely muppet wife Brandi <33

🍪 If the kids don't have school that day, then be prepared. You're gonna have very little time to yourself ://

🍪 Like they've each got their own interests and hobbies to keep them occupied, but sometimes they'll need you to reach somewhere up high, or for you to play tiebreaker/settle an argument, or they honestly just want you to join them for a game of hide and seek which???

🍪 "Aw, you sure you guys don't mind me joining in?"

"Yeah! Just cuz you're old doesn't mean you can't have fun, too!"

"...Gee, thanks :D"

🍪 They're merciless

🍪 They've all got their own set of chores they need to do. Each and everyone will try to worm their way out of them. All of them. Everytime

🍪 Sure, they can be a little hyper sometimes, but they're like 6-8 years old so that's expected. For the most part, they're all pretty chill

🍪 It's Bruce Jr. who you've gotta watch out for

🍪 He is a shit- stirer and I WILL FOREVER STAND BY THAT

🍪 This guy won't hesitate to rally his siblings into whatever plan he's been cookin in that feral little head of his. Prepare yourself because you're MOST DEFINITELY getting pranked. It's like a requirement or something

🍪 One nice thing i have to say about Bruce Jr. is that he's actually pretty resourceful. Like this little dude is using everyday household items like he's staring in his own Home Alone movie AKSJSJAKA—

🍪 Rest assured, tho, none of his pranks are seriously harmful or anything but like... at the end of the day, expect:

1) to be covered in craft supplies

2) your clothes/skin/hair a mess

3) to have one limb stuck in a bucket

4) all of the above

🍪 Honestly I feel like Bruce and Brandi would be surprised if they came back and DIDN'T find you sporting paint-stained clothes or with glitter in your hair. Maybe a few stickers slapped on your forehead??

🍪 The trick to dealing with this little agent of chaos is to either keep him separated from his siblings long enough so he doesn't manage to rope anyone into his schemes, or strike some kinda deal with him. Considering he's got 12 siblings, all of whom you need to be watching over at the same time, chances are the second option is your safest bet

🍪 Chances are he'll ask for something semi-illegal, or at the very least something that DEFINITELY requires adult supervision

🍪 DO NOT LET THIS BOY TALK YOU INTO BUYING ANYTHING RELATED TO FIRE. Seems like an easy task, I know. Unfortunately this little shit enherited his dad's charm so watch out o_o

🍪 He'll settle for a happy meal tho. Hopefully you didn't already cave and take him and his siblings out to eat earlier, otherwise you're spending even more money ajsjakkala

🍪 If any errands need to be run during your time there, you BETTER BELIEVE they're all coming with. You'll need to be incredibly vigilant during this time cuz these kids are even more rowdy in public than they are at home. If you're smart about it, you can turn the whole thing into a game! If everyone manages to grab everything off the grocery list in a certain amount of time or if they're able to find the best quality (but relatively cheap) brand of laundry detergent, then you'll buy each of them candy or something uwu

🍪 You can count on them to be cooperative, but like... bring the family child leash just in case

🍪 Cough cough (Bruce Jr.) cough cough

🍪 MOVIES BEFORE BED! It's a bit of a family tradition in the Vacay Lovers household. Yknow, just some way for the kids to spend time together before the day ends

🍪 You're most definitely gonna be playing tiebreaker when the time comes. All 13 of them have wildly different tastes

🍪 Absolutely no scary movies tho. They'll try to argue that theyre able to handle it, but at the end of the night expect to find yourself under a pile of frightened children who've ctawled into bed with you

🍪 Their collective nightly routine is literally?? So chaotic??? Like all of them are simultaneously trying to squeeze into the same bathroom just to brush their teeth... running in and out of their respective rooms... trying to sneak some extra dessert before bed

🍪 Literally never a quite moment in this household jshskakakam

🍪 You might have to read a few bedtime stories or sing a lullaby—

"Dad does it better"

"Just go to bed, Benji"

—but once they've settled in under the covers? Out like a light. They are unconscious the moment their heads hit their pillows

🍪 You'll probably have a mess (or two... or three) to clean up afterwards, but once they're taken care of? Dishes washed? Counters clean? You're more than welcome to crash on Bruce and Brandi's bed <33

🍪 Said couple returns home the next morning...

🍪 Just to find their kids drawing on your face with marker. Cross your fingers that none of its permanent 💀💀

Hope this was good! I know I call them all little shits BUT I MEAN IT AFFECTIONATELY OKAY AJSJAKA

Ngl I feel like this could have been like... more colorful? Like I was very general about the kids and their behavior as a whole, but now I'm super tempted to make a post describing each of them and all their little quirks! Just something fun to do that'll help me write them better in the future ;3

[thoughtsfromlayla]

Dreamweaver's Heart

Summary: The Dream Lord takes fascination to a new lucid dreamer in his realm, his Dreamweaver. The waking world is less than kind and he will travel dimensions to make sure you are safe.

Notes: ~8.6k, this was a request sent in by Anon based on this post! Otherwise, I'm sorry for having this fic take such a dark turn? It was supposed to be sweet but then in my search for more Tom Sturridge films, I came across Like Minds and it fucked with me. So now it fucks with my writing until further notice.

Warnings: Don't ever get attached to the characters I make for the plot, graphic descriptions of gore, death, murder, and drowning, betrayal of a friend, nonconsensual kissing (not from Dream), graphic serial killer activities, run in with a serial killer. Dream's a dream tho, a knight in black armor <3 Happy ending :D

I'm not going to say it's 18+, because it's not NSFW, but some of these themes can be disturbing. Please read the tags carefully.

Masterlist

“One, two, three, four, five, okay,” You count your right-hand fingers to yourself. Then cast your eyes on the watch you always carried on your wrist.

“8:13,” You take another look at your surroundings and take in the fresh air and kind sun. “AM,” you concluded.

You look back to your fingers and count again. “One, two, three, four, five,” You listed off in your head. Then one more time look at your watch. This time it read 5:15 PM, but the sun hadn’t moved. A grin crawls up to your face as you realize that you were dreaming. Lucid dreaming to be more specific. 

When you first heard about lucid dreaming in some off-handed news article you rolled your eyes and went on with your morning. There wasn’t much time in your life to worry about those things, not when another project was due, you had another meeting to attend, or another email to look at. But then life got unbearably hard to live with, stress kept piling up, and your vacation hours kept being declined. 

Your dreams turned from weird but forgettable dreams to nightmares of being chased, drowned, or murdered, only for you to both feel and witness again and again. When you wake up in a sweat at the ungodly midnight hours, you open your phone to find the news article again. It took you well over a month to get the hang of lucid dreaming but it was all worth the cognitive effort. Each time you go to sleep you count your fingers, then your clock, then your fingers, and then your clock again. There are always telltale signs that you were dreaming, dreams tend to never make sense so you look for those things. 

You intake another fresh breath of air and smile, head tilted towards the sun. The city air was polluted with car fumes and sewage smells, and while you loved the city, you do miss the easier days back in the countryside. You imagine the lush meadows, old trees, and the house that your grandfather hand-built for him and his wife. Before you the scenery changes and you’re sitting on a hand-carved rocking chair in a thin shirt and shorts. 

“This is the life,” You groan out to yourself as you begin the rock back and forth, thighs and arms trembling from a stretch. You stay like that for god knows how long, the waking world not a priority of your thoughts as you had the next day off. 

You only get up when sweat begins to collect along your hairline and the sunhat you are wearing begins to become itchy. A farm dog comes up to you and pants at your side urging you to go inside the house, maybe for a cup of lemonade, which sounded delicious the more you thought about it. 

When you look into the house from the windowed front door, a black figure briefly catches your eyes. It walks within the kitchen, running a finger across the worn wooden table and tracing lines of chipped paint over the tops of chairs. Confusion eclipses your face as his figure distorts on the thick glass and you open the door quickly. 

Much to your surprise, there was no such figure when the door opened. Your heart beats inside your chest and you look down at your fingers again. One, two, three, four, five… six. Six fingers, which is odd. You exhale slowly, it’s just a dream you say to yourself and carry on.

While sitting at the kitchen table you pinch your index and thumb together then bring both hands until they meet the other’s fingers. You pull them apart and a delicate golden string connects the fingers together. With a calming inhale of breath you move your fingers purposefully, drawing a picture of lemonade with a glass cup. If only it were this easy in the waking world. 

Lemonade appears on the kitchen table in a glass pitcher and you pour yourself a cup, chugging down the citrusy-sweet drink with a smile. You sit for a while, not particularly thinking of anything, your job had you doing enough of that. The kitchen window was open and you could feel the summer wind and hear the leaves rustling and mourning doves cooing. It was a scene straight out of your childhood, and if you concentrated enough you could hear the lawn mower going in the distance, the smell of freshly cut grass invading the house. 

A bark interrupts your serenity and you look over to the farm dog. He’s patiently sitting by his food bowl with a wagging tail. A small box of dog food appears on a nearby shelf and you go to him with a smile. 

“Are you hungry, boy?” You ask and reach for the kibble. He barks back in return and watches you intently as you pour a small serving. You then thought to yourself that, well, this is a dream and can dogs get diabetes in dreams? Probably not, so you dump the rest of the kibble into his bowl. It piled higher and higher and you can see a satisfied glint in the dog’s eyes as it begins to chow down on its food. 

You wipe your hands off on your shorts and toss the empty box into some unknown void in the hallway and go back to the kitchen. This time, however, two glasses were accompanying the pitcher. One, the glass you just drank out of, and the other, a half-drunk glass of lemonade. The condensation of the cool drink was still on the glass and you could see a clear handprint of where someone had grabbed it. 

You look back at the dog and notice that he is missing and panic sets in again. You look outside the window and the sun disappears, clouds rolling in with a sheet of rain. The ground around you starts to become wet despite the intact roof and it floods over your feet. The water fills up the space quickly. 

You try to calm your breathing and will the water to go away, for the sun to come back, anything to have your hours of peace before you have to wake up. But, nothing worked and the water came over your hips, and you’re hyperventilating now. The rain comes in through the windows in large gushes of water and you find yourself stuck in place, unable to move. 

“Wake up, wake up!” You chant to yourself, tears beading along your lower lash line. You pinch at yourself and are exasperated when you still don’t wake. The water felt too real, it was cold and piercing and you could feel the twigs and leaves of debris that brushed against your legs now and then. “This isn’t funny, wake up!” You cry to yourself again as the water rises higher. 

Behind you, in the shadows, the Dream Lord watches with intent. He always had a fascination with lucid dreamers, after all, they were able to minorly manipulate dreams to their whim. Something that the Dream King wouldn’t admit hurt his ego a little bit… just a smudge. But he had been watching your dreams lately and found it fascinating that you never dreamed of anything grand. No mystical adventure, no aspirations, and certainly no dreams of a more… sexual nature. Which, if he was allowed to comment, may be the reason why you were so stressed in the waking world and needed to find peace in his instead. 

“This dream is over,” He commands and waves his hand over the scene. 

You wake with a start, the sweat you produced while sleeping made your shirt stick to you uncomfortably and reminded you of your dream. You’re quick to get rid of it and throw it into your laundry hamper, now topless and rushing to the bathroom for a cold shower to calm you down. When you were done, your weekend alarm still hadn’t gone off and you were tempted to go back to sleep again. 

Eventually, you decided against it, unless you wanted to repeat what just happened. Purposeful, dreamless sleep hasn’t found you in a long time and you doubt it would come back just on a whim. You watch the sunrise in your apartment, sighing as sleep tugs at your body still. The cup of hot coffee in your hands felt more like decoration than anything useful as it didn’t give you the energy you craved. 

Thankfully you had nothing to do on your day off and you pat your past self on the back for going grocery shopping last night instead of making you do it today. You spend the rest of the day in bed, reading books on your Kindle and taking breaks by mindlessly scrolling through different forms of social media. Sleep tugs on your eyes but no matter how much you try to sleep, even a nap escapes you. 

The day goes by at a molasses-like pace, you don’t even remember eating. But once the sun has set and the stars made their debut, you happily resign as sleep overcomes you. The Kindle falls somewhere off your bed as you lose consciousness. When you come to your dreams, you’re greeted by a whale… in a tutu. 

Your laughter is hard to contain at the sight as you watched it dance on its fins to Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy, part of your favorite ballet to watch when you were younger. It splashes some water on you and you use your hands to cover your face. It’s then that you remember to count your fingers.

“One, two, three, four, five,” All five fingers. What time was it? You repeat the ritual that has been so ingrained in your head and when you notice that you only have four fingers on your second count, you know then that you have control over the dream. 

“Thank you for your entertainment tonight, my friend,” You wave goodbye to it as the scenery changes around you. 

You’re back out in nature. A low-hanging tree greets you instead and a white and red checkered blanket is laid before it. The blanket had a mighty spread of slices of bread, jams, cheeses, meats, and tea. You make your way over and sit on the soft blanket, slowly picking the foods to taste. The atmosphere was perfect and the wind blew the smell of fresh water into your nose from the nearby pond. Ducks and geese honk at each other in greeting as they swim by. 

Deeper in the picnic basket was more food, but you found them in pairs. Two sandwiches, two teacups, and two dessert cakes. You quizzically stare at them as you hold the two sandwiches, one in each hand. You didn’t eat that much, did you?

“I see that you have started without me,” A voice comments. 

You jump in your skin at the sudden intrusion and look up. You see a man, dressed in casual black with an impressive coat. 

“Isn’t it a bit too warm to wear such a long coat?” You ask instead. 

You don’t protest when he sits next to you and hand him a sandwich instead. He places the wrapped food gently on the ground before taking off his jacket. 

“Better?” He asks as he goes to grab his sandwich again. 

“Hmm,” You only hum in agreement and start to unwrap your own. It’s a few minutes of silent chewing before you realize how weird this is. “Wait, who are you?” 

“No one you haven’t met before,” He answers vaguely. His sandwich was left untouched except for the bread which he threw at the ducks near the pond. 

You chew slowly as you try to digest his answer. He pours you a cup of tea which you drink freely from, murmuring a thanks as he hands you the fine china. The smell of vanilla and peaches invades your senses as you sip on the sweet tea. The favor takes you by surprise at how wonderfully it paired with the sandwich. By the end of the picnic, you have learned two things, your mystery man was great company, and that carbs made you comatose. 

“Oh, my god. I don’t think I’ve ever eaten that much food in one sitting,” You sigh happily as you lay down on the blanket. Your head hits the hard ground and an idea sparks in you. 

Once again you pinch your fingers together and then bring your hands together. You intertwine and loop the golden strings that emit from your movements, much like an old childhood game of yours, Cat’s Cradle, and produce a small pillow. 

You place the pillow down and give it a good smack before laying down again. The sun envelopes you in a kind warmth that makes you smile. You see dancing shadows behind your eyelids when you close them to enjoy the moment. 

You hear rustling beside you and turn your head towards the man lying down beside you. He really was quite beautiful, something more than a man, perhaps a deity. He is lost in thought, almost, as he thinks about your abilities, but he keeps his thoughts to himself. 

“You have a great side profile, you know?” You don’t know why you said that, but rarely in dreams do you know why anything happens. 

Your comment makes him chuckle, a sound that you wish to hear again. It was light-hearted and pure, something that you wouldn’t expect to hear from someone who looked like him. You couldn’t help but laugh along, finding his happiness contagious. 

“Thank you,” He says when he is done laughing. 

When the giggles leave your body, you go back to relaxing and soon you doze off. The rest of the dream is peaceful and pure, no more nightmares to haunt you tonight. The Dream Lord looks at you fondly as the wind blows some of your hair astray, happy to assist you for once in his realm. As long as he is here, you won’t have to fight your demons on your own again. 

The next morning was the first time in a long time that you felt energized. The old coffee pot is nearly forgotten as you get ready to go on a morning walk, something you have done in a long while. Afterward, a shower, and then lunch with an old friend you haven’t seen in months. He had decided to drop by after his work allowed him to come into the city. 

You meet with Oliver at a local cafe and you order tea this time around, along with some soup and a side salad. The AC is on full blast as more and more people come into the small building. You were lucky to find Oliver already waiting for you at a small table by the large windows. He waves at you when you come close enough and then pushes his glasses back into place. 

“How have you been, Poppet?” He starts right off the bat with a smile, using the same nickname he’s been using since grade 3. That smile brings you back all the way to your younger days when you first met him as your new neighbor. 

You think briefly about possibly mentioning your horrid dreams to him but decide to skip it, seeing as you didn’t want to ruin the mood for today, not to mention the peaceful dream you had last night all but almost made you forget it in its entirety. 

“Oh, you know me, running around like a chicken with its head cut off.” You joke with a self-deprecating laugh. Your comment makes you realize that you have to go to work the next day and deal with annoying clients all over again. “Same shit, different day,” You mutter in conclusion. 

Both of your foods arrive just in time for you to ignore the glare he sent your way. Instead, you find fascination in the soup you choose, the same soup you had for the past three years of your life. 

“What brings you into town?” You ask as you pick apart the complimentary bread. 

“Work, of course. Though I never thought it would bring me to this place.” He gestures to the city around him. 

Oliver works as a farm veterinarian so, rarely, does he come into a large city where each piece of green is covered in concrete or chewed gum. And, of course, there are no farm animals around. He goes on to talk about a conference that he was invited to, something to do with the fight on farm animal antibiotics. You only nod along as you ate your lunch, your talents lie elsewhere but don't want to seem rude. 

Only scraps of your meal are left when the two decide that it is time to depart ways. 

“How long are you staying in the city?” You ask outside the cafe. The weather was almost perfect today, save for the slightly chilling wind that came every now and then. 

“About a week.” Oliver puts on his jacket and then pushes his round glasses back in place. 

“A week, huh?” You thought out loud before a smile came to your face. “You should come by the exhibit later this week. My client is showcasing their art, and going together would be fun.” 

“I’ll be there.” Oliver takes the business card you hand him, the heavy paper turns from warm white to gray as the sun disappears behind some clouds. 

Rain begins to drizzle and splatter on the card. 

“Aw, man. What?” You complain and put your jacket over your head as the rain continues to fall. “There wasn’t a rain forecast today,” You grumble to yourself. 

The two of you step under the cafe awning, the thin fabric providing little protection. 

“Do you want to stay at my place until the rain lets up? It’s just a few blocks from here.” You offer. 

“Lead the way, Poppet,” Oliver says with a smile. 

You smile back as you hype yourself to run through the rain. Thank god you wore sensible shoes today. With a squeal, you run in the direction of your apartment. You hear Oliver laughing behind you as he follows closely behind. Your laughter and giggles continue when you two find the comfort of your apartment and quickly turn up the thermostat when you get inside. 

“Wow, you’ve decorated the place nicely,” Oliver whistles his approval. 

He kindly sets his dripping jacket on the coat rack before you do the same and thank him. He shakes his head, much like a dog, you mused, to get rid of the water as his hair splays out from his actions. You, the more sensible one, simply wrung it out over the kitchen sink. 

“Yeah, if work can’t destress me why should my own home be?” You nodded along. 

The storm had raged harder ever since you got inside, the rain pelting on the window. If you didn’t have company over, you would’ve tossed all chores to the side and huddled up for a nap. Sleeping has been wonderful ever since you figured out lucid dreaming. 

“Poppet, you got a remote for this giant T.V, or what?” Oliver says as he pokes his hands between couch cushions. 

“Erm, yeah, somewhere on the T.V. stand.” Your comment was absent minded as you poke around in your small pantry for some snacks. 

Your eyes lock on packets of hot chocolate you didn’t know you had and what could be more perfect than a rainy day and hot chocolate with a friend? You squint at the box, looking for the expiration date. When you find it, and see that it’s been expired since last christmas, you pretend you don’t. 

There’s probably enough preservative to make the powdered drink last until the end of days, right? Plus who is throwing out food like this? In this economy? You scoff to yourself. 

“Want hot chocolate?” You ask, peeking at Oliver’s form in the living room. 

He stands in front of the T.V., hip slightly popped out to support himself with a hand on his hip and the other on the remote. The news comes on instead of your usual menu of different streaming services and a confused look takes over Oliver’s face when he turns around. 

“No, not that remote, the other one,” You laughed and went ahead to the fridge to warm up some milk anyway. 

“Which remote, you have, like, 13 for no reason!” He cries out exasperated but goes to the stand to find the correct remote.

The news continues to play and with nothing better to do, you listen in while you wait for your milk to warm up. 

“There has been a recent murder here in our lovely city and we encourage citizens to remain vigilant. The killer has not yet been caught and there is no pattern as to what kind of victims they take.” The news anchor speaks. 

“Oh, shit.” Oliver stops his search as he, too, starts listening in to the news. 

“Welcome to the city, I guess,” You shrug with a defeated sigh. The milk starts to shimmer before you turn off the stove. 

“Still, you should stay safe,” Oliver comments as he finally finds the correct remote, turning in to a streaming service and picking a light hearted movie. You’re mixing the chocolate powder, spoon clinking against the non-matching mugs, and when you don’t answer right away, Oliver presses again. “You will be safe, right?”

“Yes, mom,” You sarcastically groan. “I’ll be safe.”

“That’s my Poppet,” He chides, some of his accent slipping through, and sits down. He opens an arm for you to sit next to him before you hand him the hot chocolate that you made. 

“Careful, it’s ho-”

“JESUS!” Oliver exclaims as his face flies away from the mug. His shocked face makes your own burst out into laughter, so much so that you have to set down your mug so that you don’t spill it all over yourself. 

“Are you laughing at my pain?” Oliver jokes and pokes your sides.

The ticklish action only makes you laugh harder, if that was at all possible. Seeing your reaction, Oliver goes to poke you again, and you defend weakly as your laughing makes you all but weak. 

“Sto-stop, you’re going to make me pee,” You choke out between fits of giggles. Your hands were clenched to your sides as a last ditch effort to conceal your weak points. Your cheeks were starting to hurt and your smile was so wide that you couldn’t even open your eyes anymore. You were simply at the mercy of feeling true happiness.

Oliver eventually stops and the T.V. goes into a mandatory ad break (I mean, you’re not going to pay for no ads after already paying for the streaming service, let’s be real). Your energy is sapped out of you and you deflate into the couch with a satisfied sigh. 

“That was the first time tonight I heard you laugh that hard. Has the city been that mean to you?” Oliver asks, now cautiously sipping his drink. 

“The city is not mean, it’s just different than home,” You reply with a roll of your eyes. “I wouldn’t change it for anything though.”

Oliver hums in response, whipped cream stuck on his upper lips. You could tell he wanted to say more but decided to keep quiet instead. Eventually, the two of you fell into a comfortable and familiar silence as you watched the rest of the movie. 

You ended up crying at a particular scene and Oliver, same old Oliver, poked at you again to try and get you laughing. The rain still hasn't stopped and you’re glad to live on a higher floor of the apartment complex or else you would’ve had to worry about potential flooding. 

At the end of the day, you ended up cooking dinner for the two of you as well, convincing Oliver to stay and have a warm meal before going home alone. Especially considering the news about the killer on the loose. You’re on your third movie when the two of you finally finish your late dinner and you fall asleep on the couch against Oliver’s much warmer body. 

The body underneath you shifts and your eyes snap open. 

“Sorry, Oliver, didn’t mean to fall asleep on you,” You apologize before you’re completely awake. 

“It is nothing of note,” Someone else’s voice responds instead. 

You rub your eyes and take a closer look at him and are surprisingly greeted by your mystery man. He wears the same clothes as the last time you met, only this time it’s warranted as you feel the chilling wind brush against your prickling skin. Unconsciously you crawl closer to him again and he wraps a protective arm around your body. 

Looking around at your surroundings you notice that the two of you were huddled amongst the clouds. Stars and nebulas dance around the two of you in sparkling wonder. When you reach out your hand to touch a star and find it surprising when you are greeted with a cold feeling. Your hand snaps back quickly and you tuck it under your arms to quickly warm up. 

“Guess I’m dreaming again,” You comment nonchalantly and lean back. The clouds seem to know where to stop and you’re lying comfortably by the man’s side again. 

“Ever the perceptive one,” He responds back. 

“I didn’t know I could dream of something this… spectacular,” You think to yourself, taking the risk to rest your head on his shoulders. Besides momentarily stiffening under your touch, he doesn’t move away, something you took as a good sign. 

“You did not, I did,” He says slowly. 

“Hmm, it’s nice, thank you.” You close your eyes and enjoy his warmth. 

Besides you, the Endless smiles to himself at your compliment. To him, it was nothing more than the wave of his hand to gift you this dream. He would be lying to himself if he were to say he hasn’t been waiting for you to cross over to the Dreaming since your last dream. His fascination for your abilities grows stronger yet. 

Yet, he has created a beautiful enough dream that you didn’t find the need to change anything, something he takes pride in. Your waking world has left you tired and weary, and he is here to provide. A tugging sensation pulls at him and he remembers why he is here. 

“My Dreamweaver, I have something to tell you. You must listen carefully.” His words were calculated when he spoke. “You are in danger, be cautious.”

“What?” 

“This dream is over.”

You wake up in your bed with a dry mouth and a pounding headache. When you roll over to look at the glowing digital clock, it reads 3:00 AM. With a groan, you leave your warm bed to tread the treacherous cold apartment for a glass of water. 

You fill up a small cup with some water and notice that by your sink is a small note, scribbled in red crayon. Your tired eyebrows shoot up at the note and grimace at the atrocious handwriting that was undoubtedly Oliver’s.

“Poppet, I can’t find your pens but I found this crayon by the TV remotes Don’t worry I called a cab I won’t get murdered tonight cause I’m vigilant unlike some people Mwah, Oliver” 

That night, your mystery man didn’t visit you again. He only leaves his vague message that echoes in the empty chambers of your heads. You’re plagued with dreams of drowning and despite all you can do to take control of the nightmare, there is nothing you can do but subject yourself to the violent, crashing waves. To constantly inhale gallons of gallons of salty water, to feel your muscles tired out, to feel yourself lose control. 

Your only salvation throughout the week was seeing Oliver again at the art exhibit. The murders haven’t stopped and it’s gotten enough traction for everyone in the office to talk about it, too. Yet, you could turn to your dreams instead to find relief. 

The man clad in black follows you still into your dreams, any mention of his message is quickly shut down or ignored completely. At the end of the day, you don’t mind, his company is more than enough to make your dreams sweet. He accompanies you through wildflower fields and stardust skies, he brushes your hair by the seashore and tells you the myths of old. Each day is a new dream and brings forth a reason to keep going. 

“A few nights ago,” He starts as he watches you gently touch the petals of a flower made of snow and glass. You turn to him expectantly and urge him to continue silently. “You did not call for me when you were having that nightmare.”

It takes a few moments for you to realize he was talking about your drowning nightmare. The one you so “wonderfully” had after an amazing time in the swirling cosmos. You begin to walk again, your shoes making no noise against the cold snow. The man follows beside you, face tilted towards yours in anticipation. His question had been burning at the back of his mind since it happened and he held on, barely, for the answer. 

“You can’t really scream when you’re drowning.” Your lousy excuse comes out and even you flinch at the words. 

You don’t dare to look at him, knowing the disappointed look he was surely giving you. Everyone knows that anything is possible when you dream, even more when you can lucid dream. After a very pregnant pause you give you real reason. 

“I don’t know your name, how would I call out for you, my sweet mystery man.”

It’s now that he stops walking and after a few steps, you too pause and turn to look at him. In the cold mountains of your dream, the snow is stark in contrast to his ebony form. It is here that you recognize how different he was, like the snow pulls away from any distractions and you look at him, really look at him. The facade of just a man falls away, and within, you see a being beyond your comprehension, held together by sheer will. You were right, he was more than mortal, more than a god, something more in every sense. 

“I am Dream of the Endless,” He says, voice slow, calculated and raspy as he closes the gap between the two of you. “I am the very dream you are in, the voice inside your head, the person you think you’ve met before while walking the street.”

You’re very aware of how close he was to you now, to see the precipitation of his breath, and the way his eyes are never truly one color. His form keeps the winter chill away from your body, warming the very spot you stood in where snow turns into sunlight and the ground beneath you turns to soft valley grass and wildflowers made of toffee candy and sour rope candy. 

“Would you really have come if I called for you?” You ask timidly, head turned down and away from his gaze. 

“Yes.”

“Okay.” You say with a smile, cheeks crinkling your eyes as you look at him again. All Dream could think about was making a sun that shines as brightly as you. 

Your dreams seem to start leaping out into your waking life as the words of the Endless follow you. Every now and then you would notice a flurry of black and alabaster skin in the peripheral of your vision, but when you go to look it’s nothing but a chair, or a stack of books. His familiar face haunts you when you space out on the bus ride home, or when you’re simply walking down the street and someone bumps into you that just barely looks like him.

Each time you shake your head no, it was impossible, he was only a dream. 

The night before the exhibit, Oliver gives you a text message that explains that he would need to be picked up from another location. A client had called him for an at-home euthanasia early in the morning right before the exhibit. You agreed and were sent an address. You brush your teeth and wash your face before turning into bed, sleep coming easily. 

Your dream starts, as always, with you counting your fingers. Then you look at your watch, and then you count your fingers again. Your clock had 5 hands instead of two and with control over the dream, you find yourself standing in an Asian inspired pergola surrounded by water for miles around. The only sounds that accompany you are the sound of the sloshing water and the wind’s percussion between the mountain cracks. 

You sit on the wooden flooring, cooled by the water, and inhale the scent of fresh water. You bring your fingers together, just like always, and watch as the golden strings move with your movement, producing a pouch of fish food. Large koi fish swim beneath you and you run a finger across the water’s surface and watch with a small smile as they chase your fingers as you sprinkle some of the golden kibble along the water's surface. A koi leaps up and bites your finger and the sharp pain flings your arm away from the water. 

“Ow, what the hell?” You frown and look at your finger, the pouch dispersing into gold dust. Pressing into the digit allows blood to leak from the wound. You don’t have time to think about it when your alarm blares at you and you wake. 

Your day starts in a rush, slamming your hand over the off button of the alarm clock. You skiddy your way into your bathroom, brushing your teeth, combing your hair and doing your makeup. Your outfit was ready on the door of your bedroom. The casual formal wear was perfect for the day ahead. Comfortable but respectable and easily spotted if someone were to come looking for you. 

You look at your watch before briskly walking out the door, a few minutes ahead of schedule and traffic. When you arrive at the house Oliver had told you to, you stand outside the door as you hear murmuring from inside the door. You remember why Oliver was here in the first place and slowly lean against the wall to wait for him. 

“He was the most perfect dog, he was loved, he was cared for. And it gives me great honor that you allow me to ease his suffering so he may continue to run in the never ending fields of the afterlife.” Oliver’s voice carries through the thin wall. 

Sobbing follows after and hushes of comfort as the dog passes in the arms of the owner. Uncomfortable that you were involuntarily eavesdropping in such a private conversation you start to play with your hands, picking at the nails and the cuticles around them. It’s now that you see, with a quickening heartbeat, a closed over wound on your finger. When you run your thumb over it, the pain long since subdued, you are reminded of a feisty koi bite from a certain dream. 

Was it real then? The dream, or merely the pain?

“Ah, Poppet, you’re here already,” Oliver’s whisper pulls you out of your thoughts slowly. “Is your finger hurt?” He notices and reaches for your hand.

“No,” You say quickly, perhaps too quickly, and move your hands away. “It’s just a scratch. Shall we go?” You turn before you give him a chance to answer. 

The exhibit, while productive, was blanketed over by a feeling of grief and melancholy. Your artist was soaking in the praises of success, but you find yourself sticking by Oliver’s side, drinking mimosas hoping the little alcohol could erase the uneasiness in your throat. Your finger gives phantom pains now and then, reminding you of the breaking cracks between dreams and real life. 

It’s only noon and you’re exhausted, giving the keys to Oliver to drive you back to your place. As if to taunt you even more, the elevator was down for repairs and so arm in arm, you and Oliver make your way up the seven sets of stairs until you reach your own apartment. 

“Oh my God, I can taste blood,” You whine, leaning all of your weight onto Oliver by the fifth floor. He, on the other hand, could not have looked more pristine. 

“When was the last time you exercised?” He chuckles as he lets you rest for a moment. 

You groan as your hand grasps onto the worn metal railing. “I briskly walked to my car this morning,” Your voice is gravelly and hoarse as you use your arm to continue upwards. “After the elevator ride down to the main floor.”

“Good grief, woman,” He jests. “We need to get you to the gym.” 

“Over my dead body,” You huff as you make your way again, steps heavy and stomping, the sound echoing in the empty chamber. 

The barren of your door gave you the last bit of energy to finish. The sight of your couch was enough for you to flop onto it and simply wish to perish. You’re breathing heavily out of your mouth, face to the ceiling and bounce when Oliver sits down next to you with exaggeration. 

“Don’t be dramatic,” Oliver teases, barely winded by the seven flights of stairs. You on the other hand felt like you had just come from a week at sea with nothing but a row boat and canned crackers. 

“I’m going to go shower, do you want to stay for lunch?” You ask, already halfway to your room after you caught your breath. 

“No, I’ve got my own thing to do, packing mostly.” You hear Oliver’s voice from the bathroom. You turn on the water to let it warm up and peek out of your bedroom. “Alright, I’ll see you off in a few days, yeah?” 

Oliver’s outside your door and the sudden proximity makes you jump in your skin. 

“Geez, you scared me. I thought you were still in the kitchen,” You say behind a small laugh. 

“I’m going to head out, alright? But yeah, let’s meet one more time before I leave later this week.” Oliver smiles and pokes your forehead. 

“Sounds good,” You agree, staring at the finger. 

“Stay safe out there, Poppet.” He waves and goes for the door. “I’ve got a cab waiting for me downstairs.”

You use the shower to cleanse yourself of not only the physical properties of today, and more importantly the sweat you accumulated walking up the steps, but also the more emotional toil. The warm water seemingly soaking up all of your depressive thoughts. It runs down the water and out the drain, and you feel lighter when you step out. 

You’re drying your hair with your towel when you see the brown square that is Oliver’s wallet sitting on your couch - opening it and seeing his ID card clarifies it. You groan as you know that he can’t get anywhere without his wallet, especially if he wants to leave. 

An internal debate was settled with going to his place before you pick something up for dinner. You place the wallet by your keys near the front door and make yourself some lunch, and put some much needed laundry into the washer while it cooks. You watch a small episode while you eat before returning to your work laptop and answering emails. 

The day goes by quickly and the rumbling of your stomach tells you that it’s time for dinner and more importantly, returning Oliver’s wallet. You redress in the same clothes you wore earlier that day, deciding to just deal with the high heels as any other shoe wouldn’t tie in well with your outfit, and you were not going to go out looking anything less than put together. 

How lucky you were when you walked down the hall to find the elevator back in operation. Down, down you went, seven flights of stairs to the parking garage. The echoing beep of your car tells you where Oliver had parked for you and you climb in. 

Traffic was a pain in the ass and you couldn't take another slow minute during dinner rush. Beeps and honks accompany you all the way to Oliver’s home and it takes a solid 45 minutes to travel 10 miles. You knock on Oliver’s door and you don’t know why but you’re nervous. There wasn’t an answer and you knocked again. Nothing. The door is unlocked and with a shrug to yourself you enter. 

All of the lights were turned off when you entered, fumbling about to turn on the lobby light near the door. The rented home was much bigger than your medium apartment and you seriously start to regret your career choice. 

“Oliver?” You call out, taking off your shoes and putting them aside. 

No answer.

“Ollieeee…” You sing out as you make your way further into the house. You drop the wallet on the dining room table and still nothing. You knew he was here, somewhere, the rental car he had was still in the driveway when you pulled up.

You bring out your phone, about to call him, when a small noise directs you to a staircase that leads downstairs and you make your way into the finished basement. When you open the door, something you never thought you would see greets you instead. Yes, Oliver was there but so was another woman. She’s tied down to a wooden table and you think you’re interrupting something if it wasn’t for the way her teary eyes snap towards you. Despair is washed out with a small glint of hope as her trembling hand reaches for you. 

“Help me,” She pleads. 

Oliver calls your name, almost breathlessly, and walks closer to you. In his hand holds a small knife, blood already smeared on the glinting metal. He greets you with a smile, but your attention is on the woman on the table. 

“Please.” She sobs again. 

You’re numb, on the brink of hyperventilation, and you’re sure that if you had gotten dinner before coming here you would’ve thrown up all over the vinyl flooring. 

“Oliver,” You gulp down as you take a step back.

He advances with another step, knife still in hand as the blood drips down onto the floor. He approaches you like a predator to scared prey, and he wouldn’t be wrong. His weaponless hand wraps around your wrist, warm and alive just like all of the other times he has done since you became friends all those years ago. 

“Come here.” He guides you closer. “This is our guest, Poppet.” He introduces. 

The woman squirms against her restraints and cusses. “Stop calling me Poppet, my name is fucking Alora, let me go!”

Oliver guides you closer and then slinks behind you, using his body to trap you from the exit. From this distance you can see the cuts and bruises Alora endured and you lean away in denial. Bile crawls up from the bottom of your throat begging to be released, it’s acidity painful to swallow. Alora’s tear stains seem permanent as another one follows its path as she watches the two of you lean over her. 

“Let.. let her go,” You say with a shaky breath. It’s the opposite of assertive, the opposite of a demand.

Oliver sighs behind you and slams the blade down on the table and both you and Alora flinch at the sudden noise. He laughs behind you, the breath tickling the nape of your neck. 

“I thought we could… share her,” He responds. You feel his lips on the junction of your neck and your body trembles again. 

“Share… her,” You echo.

This wasn’t real, there was no way this was real. No, you were definitely dreaming, Oliver took you home and then after your shower you fell asleep. He never left his wallet at your place. Oliver heals, he would never… 

You look down at your fingers, they’re shaking but still countable. One, two, three, four, five. You look at your watch, and with dread you notice that everything is in its place. One, two, three, four, five. It’s still the right time. One, two, three, four, five. 

“A dream, this has to be a dream. A nightmare.” You lie to yourself. Your thumb presses into each of your fingers and to your dismay, there are still five. 

You look down at Alora again, her eyes wide and begging and her fingers go to grab at you. 

“Ah, ah, none of that.” Oliver notices and pushes her fingers away from the two of you. 

His attention turns back to you again. “What do you think of it?” He asks, his hands resting on your hips and to your further disgust inhales your scent. 

“What do I think of it?” You echo again except this time it was more harsh, judgemental as it should be. 

Oliver scoffs and leaves your side. He walks to the other side of the table, knife back in hand as he points it to Alora’s face. 

“Look at Poppet here, notice anything?”

That’s when you look at her, really look at her. At first you didn’t see it, or maybe your mind was simply trying to prevent you from seeing it, but under Oliver’s scrutinizing gaze you notice with teary eyes. Her hair was the same color as yours, so were her eyes, they even mimicked the way yours were shaped. Her lips curled just like yours as they’re upturned in agony. 

“I think I’m going to be sick,” You gag, your hand flies to cover your mouth as you dry heave. 

“No, don’t be, my sweet Poppet,” Oliver comes to you again and holds your face steady. His eyes have always been like they are now, caring, soft, non-dangerous, but seeing his actions made you doubt everything. “Here, you can watch for the first time instead, how about that?”

“Wh-what?” You gape and he pulls away from you. He places the knife over Alora’s throat and her sobbing and pleas grow louder. 

“NO!” You scream and go to reach for the knife, unsure where the sudden bravery comes from. But, it’s too late, he slices, you feel the way his muscle moves under your palm, how it grips the blade, how it ticks when it kills.

The blood sprays and decorates you in its red and sticky liquid and you’re left stunned. Beneath you, you hear as Alora chokes on her own blood as her body trashes as a last ditch effort of escape. Oliver looks at you with a smile, his white shirt decorated just like yours. He looks at you with adoration and something like pride as he places the knife down and comes to you again. 

“You look even more beautiful in red, Poppet,” He compliments, but it falls on deaf ears. His lips press to yours in a one sided kiss and you weakly push back. “Let me clean everything up and then I’ll take care of you, okay?”

You stand still as you watch him, rag in hand as he begins to clean. 

“You were the most perfect person, you were loved, you were cared for. And it gives me great honor that you allow me to ease your suffering so you may continue to live free in the never ending fields of the afterlife.” Oliver’s familiar eulogy snaps you out of your shock, if not for a brief moment. 

It’s enough for you to run out the door, adrenaline blazes down your spine and pumps to all of your limbs. The door almost flies off its hinges as you open it into the dark night. You don’t know where you’re going to go, but anywhere is better than here. 

“Poppet! Wait!” Oliver screams behind you and he’s fast to catch you. 

Your bare feet scrap across the concrete sidewalk as your vision blurs with salty tears. You trip into an alleyway and sob, your pristine clothes now covered in dirt and blood, and you hear the crack of your watch as it breaks under the fall. At the edges of your mind, a small girl with wild and colorful hair peeks at you in fishnets, the world warps, distorting the difference between reality and delirium. 

A moment of clarity comes to you as you remember something. It tries to fall between the crevices of your mind but you grab onto it and hold it close. 

“Would you really have come if I called for you?”

“Yes.”

“Okay.”

“Dream,” You cry out into the darkness. Oliver finds you on the ground and his arms pick you up. “No, no, let go of me!” 

The man clad in black doesn’t show his face and you beat yourself over it, because of course he doesn’t. It was just a dream. This is reality. Despite it all, you try one more time. A name falls on your tongue, one you didn’t previously know. 

“Morpheus!” You scream and the calling echoes in the suburban neighborhood. 

Oliver pays you no mind and hoists you onto his shoulders. You’re pounding at his back but his muscles never falter. He walks back with heaving breaths to his house when he is suddenly stopped and drops you. You unceremoniously roll and then sit quickly to run away again. You’re stopped short at the sight. 

In front of Oliver stands a man, his form fuzzy at the sides and blends in to the night around them. He wears a helm made of bones, accompanied by a bright ruby necklace, and a leather pouch of sand. 

“Dream?” You question and his gaze turns to you. You can’t see his eyes past the large bug-like design of the helm, but you know he sees you. 

“Who the hell are you?” Oliver sneers at him.

Dream doesn’t reply and instead he shrinks back into the shadows and wisps around until he stands in front of you. You hide behind his back as he protects you from Oliver. 

“Hey, get away from my Poppet.” Oliver takes a step forward but is stopped by Dream’s words. 

“Be quiet,” He commands. It’s two words, but it renders him speechless. “I turn you into prey. Your judgment upon you is to be hunted. Even after you wish for death, you will form into another and be hunted again. This is my gift to you, Oliver Barlowe, make good use of it.”

The curse is etched in stone as he speaks. He pours from his leather pouch and sand falls between his fingers. He curls then unfurls them before blowing the particles into Oliver’s face. You watch with horror as his form shrinks under the swirling sand and he turns into a shrew. He runs into the grass, his brown fur lost amongst the foliage. 

“Hello, my Dreamweaver,” He whispers and crouches to your height on the cold concrete. He extends a patient hand and you grab hold. “Come, nightmares shall hunt you no further.” 

“You came,” You say, still in disbelief as he helps you stand. 

“I kept my promise. I do not break such vows, ever.” His fingers gently wipe away the tears from your face. 

"You're real," You whisper, still not believing that he stands before you.

His fingers trace across your bottom lip as he comes closer to you still. Dream doesn't say anything, he simply soaks in your presence, drawn to you in a way neither of you could comprehend. His fingers still trace your face, running over your nose and the apple of your cheekbones.

You feel the swirling of sand around your feet and the world changes around you. You’re in the meadows again, surrounded by flowers made of snow and glass, and you see the cabin your grandfather built. Dream sits you down on a white and red checkered picnic blanket with two glasses of lemonade. 

“Will you stay?” You ask as you grab the cool glass cup of lemonade. Your gaze turns to the sweet yellow drink and you rub the smooth glass as a way of calming yourself. 

“Yes.”

“Okay.” You smile. 

Alsooooo, very inappropriate use of being a veterinarian, we don't kill people and we don't make that much money, sigh

My Sandman comics came and they're so heavy... Second also, Comic Dream is such a mood

Maybe a more lighthearted fic for next time, hmm?

♡ Yours, Layla

[beanbagstab]

My current Sonamy headcanons! 💖💙

These are mostly based off official content as well as what I’ve extrapolate from irl changes to the characters n such

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.

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1) Believing in Amy is the closest Sonic gets to believing in fate 

2) Sonic feels similarly to sinking in water to how he feels “falling in love”. He feels a loss of control in a way he’s not entirely comfortable with or even sure he likes but he finds it exciting nonetheless

3) Amy compares herself to Sonic too much and sees herself as weak as a result 

4) Sonic hates being vulnerable so he helps the weak

5) Amy is uniquely capable of seeing right through Sonic and that makes him feel vulnerable

6) Even if she is helpful, most strangers see Amy as annoying, her friends love her tho

7) Sonic is the first real person in her life to put up with Amy and she attached to him so much because of it

8) Both realize they’re trans early in childhood but Sonic never had a word for it until later in life 

9) Sonic is Demi and Bi-Romantic but goes unlabeled for most of his life. He’s known what he’s about since he was fairly young tho

10) Amy is Allo and Bi but had not really thought about until meeting Sonic, she goes to pride events when she can

11) Amy developed attachment and abandonment issues that don’t go away even after they begin to date 

12) Amy and Sonic have a weak telepathic connection that functions more like a sixth sense Sonic is less aware of it than Amy is and he doesn’t really question it

13) Amy actually has no idea how she is able to sense Sonic’s presence (she chalks it up to girlish intuition)

14) Sonic usually has a very good awareness of his surroundings but somehow Amy always manages to catch him off guard 

15) No matter how angry or aggressive Amy gets with him, Sonic’s danger sense has never gone off because of her

16) Even after they started dating, Sonic isn’t entirely sure if he ‘loves’ Amy the way she ‘loves’ him but as long as they’re happy he doesn’t really care 

17) Amy realized Sonic’s on the aroace spectrum before he did 

18) Sonic is secretly worried that one day Amy will fall out of love with him 

19) Sonic believes that Amy knows him better than he knows himself but Amy feels like there’s so much she still doesn’t know about him 

20) Amy is very perceptive and empathetic but Sonic is the hardest person for her to read 

21) Sonic is likewise very perceptive but lacks the same level of empathy as Amy 

22) Amy looks at Sonic like he hung the stars and Sonic would do anything to keep that look on her face 

23) Sonic doesn’t get jealous easily but when he does he gets very jealous 

24) Amy does get jealous easily but it quickly fizzes out to either anger or sadness 

25) A lot of people have a crush on Sonic but the only crush he’s ever really been affected by is Amy’s 

26) Sonic loves to live. Amy lives to love 

27) Amy is constantly trying to prove to herself that she’s worthy of Sonic’s love and attention 

28) Sonic can be selfish when it comes to Amy’s affections 

29) After/if Tails gets a partner Sonic ‘moves out’ and ‘moves in’ with Amy to give them more privacy 

30) Sonic is consciously more gentle with Amy and Amy is unconsciously more rough with Sonic 

31) After years of becoming more used to physical touch with/ from Amy he is almost completely unaffected by it which leads to Amy trying to find new ways to fluster/ tease him 

32) Meeting Amy as kids gave Sonic the patience and empathy he needed that lead him to allow Tails to follow him later 

33) Even if Amy didn’t want him to, Sonic would still rush in to save her. 

34) When Sonic is upset Amy is the first one able to tell the difference from his usual demeanor  

35) They almost never have serious arguments but when they do they both are quick to forgive 

36) Sonic considers himself very lucky to be the one who Amy fell in love with

37) To Sonic, Amy is truly a “good person” to the extent that he trust her moral compass with very little, if any, push back 

38) Sonic and Amy are both orphans

38) Sonic is an introvert and Amy is an extrovert 

39) Sonic is very bad at expressing his more negative/complex/vulnerable emotions

40) Amy often gets ahead of herself, overestimating her abilities which sometimes pay off and sometimes get her in a lot of trouble 

41) Sonic thinks Amy’s tenacity is amazing and fun but sometimes it worries him too

42) Sonic’s impatience as a kid stems from him being so used to being the strongest/ most capable person around 

43) Sonic gets less reckless as he grows but he gets very reckless when his emotions are high 

44) Amy: heeheehee (aka cute giggles)

Sonic: heheheheheHAHAHAHAHA (aka chuckles into full on cackling)

45) Even when they’re old, Sonic and Amy still act like teens in love- teasing each other and chasing each other around, new people are kinda weirded out but friends are very used to it by then

46) Sonic is so used to Amy telling him how she feels directly that he would have no idea what to do if she decided to clam up and suppress her own feelings. It would upset and unnerve him- he’d feel in the dark.

[moonficrecs]

Favourite Series Part 1

🌙 - all time favourite

✔️ - completed series

👩🏻‍💻 - ongoing series

1. Mutual Help by @personasintro 🌙👩🏻‍💻

synopsis: in order for you to pretend to be his girlfriend, he helps you with your sexual desires ⏤ he calls it a mutual help

genre: fluff, angst, smut, slow burn, fake dating au

2. Our Time by @taestefully-in-luv 🌙👩🏻‍💻

summary: After an accident and being in a coma for three months, you finally wake. But the last nine years of your life have been completely erased. You rely on none other than your best friend, Jungkook, to help regain your memories and yourself. But what happens when the truth of your missing time starts unraveling and it isn’t all it’s made out to be?

genre: Darker themes, crime au, mystery, fluff, heavy angst, smut, amnesia au. Best friends to ???

3. Clash by @matchagator 🌙👩🏻‍💻

summary: You're a new resident in your very first apartment excited to enjoy the simple life of adulthood. Unfortunately for you, you continue to run into unruly neighbors no matter how much you try to keep to yourself.

genre: Slice of Life | Neighbors

4. Bad Decision by @alphabetboyluvr 🌙👩🏻‍💻

synopsis: ready to make some bad decision?

genre: strangers to friends to lovers - slow burn

5. Long way home by @sparklingchim ✔️

synopsis: jungkook's life makes an 180 degree turn when he's suddenly a single dad and while you're trying to help him come accustomed to the new circumstances, your long-standing friendship takes new turns as well.

genre: single dad jk, boxer!jk friends to lovers, !angst!

6. Day by day by @hansolmates ✔️

summary: a series of drabbles about two best friends raising a child together

genre/warnings: dilf!jungkook x best friend!reader (f) angst, longing, pining, mc is a homebody, unrequited love (or is it?), potential idiots 2 lovers, best friends 2 lovers, but there’s a poopy ex-girlfriend, potential toxic relationship, alcohol use, explicit language, eventual fluff, eventual smut summary; a series of drabbles about two best friends raising a child together.

7. A little taste by @jeonqkooks 🌙👩🏻‍💻

synopsis: It all started with a little oral fixation...

genre: established relationship, mainly smut - everything is basically pwp, some fluff here and there

8. Practice by @chryblossomjjk ✔️

genre: fuckboy!jk x inexperienced reader. m/18+ | college au, fwb, smut, fluff, angst

9. For me by @personasintro 🌙👩🏻‍💻

summary: A collection of drabbles accompanied with dilf!jk

genre: dilf au, enemies to lovers au, neighbors au | fluff, angst, smut

10. All I want by @sxtaep 👩🏻‍💻

synopsis: You fall into the temptation of fucking your best friend, aka the biggest fuckboy on campus.

genre: fluff, smut

11. Always you by @taestefully-in-luv ✔️

summary: You and Jungkook have been best friends since freshmen year of college, there’s a lot of unsaid feelings and tension but neither make a move. what happens when his friend Taehyung (also your crush) needs a fake girlfriend?

genre: friends to lovers, idiots to lovers, roommate au, college au, SMUT (starting ch2), fluff, angst (in later chapters) slight crack

12. Red by @taestefully-in-luv ✔️

summary: You drunkenly sleep with your ex-boyfriend, Jungkook. Can’t be that bad right? Unless he gets you pregnant.

genre: FLUFF, smut, angst:(( pregnancy au

13. Rule #5 by @taestefully-in-luv ✔️

summary: You strike up a fwb deal with your good friend Jungkook after kissing him one night after a dare. But you have rules…5 of them to be exact and it seems Jungkook doesn’t want to follow any of them.

genre: fwb, friends to ???, fluff, angst, smut

14. Runaway by @archivedkookie 👩🏻‍💻

summary: When your best friend's brother, your first-ever crush, offers to help you explore your sexual desires, you just can't refuse. Especially when it's someone as irresistible as Jeon Jungkook.

genre: best friend’s brother au, fwb (they’re not rlly friends tho), 4 years age gap, smut, angst, fluff, slow burn

15. As we were by @archivedkookie 👩🏻‍💻

summary: Your husband Jungkook was your life, your reason to breathe. And when he cheats on you with another woman, it leaves you to wonder parts of yourself you were to afraid to get to know.

genre: divorce au, infidelity au, eventual smut, heavy angst, mutual pining

[waterloggedsoliloquy]

mutual 1: sorry the update for my webcomic this week is a bit late! i really had to rush it so it prolly looks really sloppy lol [some of the most sophisticated comic art ive ever seen]

mutual 2: call me uterine lining the way astarions cervix got me bleeding profusely

mutual 3: do you think nanowrimo will give me a posthumous pity publishing deal if i mention it in my suicide note

mutual 4: okay fine i finally started revolutionary girl utena

mutual 5: does columbo know the service he did for butch lesbians. for all of us

mutual 6: wish you were here [blurry picture set of conifer woods in early autumn evening, taken as if frantically running down a winding trail]

mutual 4: im pretty hardy i dont need the trigger list but thanks for looking out for me guys

mutual 7: good morning lovelies another day the wizard tried to best me and another day i successfully locked him in the spare bathroom lol hope u like drinking shampoo fucker

mutual 8: here is a zip of every yuri manga scan i have and here is a backup in case i get dcma'd. the himejoshi lifestyle will never die

mutual 9: i wish i could go back in time to the shinzo abe assassination and ask to hold the doohickey

mutual 10: here's my essay on how wanting to be loved is the same as wanting to be eaten. three paragraphs in you'll find out that this is 100% tied to an obscure beauty and the beast manga i've been reading lately and how much i want to fuck the beast

mutual 4: oh thats why there was the trigger list.

mutual 11: YOU CAN'T LOCK ME IN THIS BATHROOM FOREVER

mutual 12: why do i have to defend my thesis to people i dont even respect. im not dickriding you just give me the degree

mutual 13: its just me and this scab ive picked into my scalp against the world

mutual 14: my little dragon got glazed and is ready to go into the kiln! everyone wish him good luck!

mutual 3: nvm i am a beautiful genius. perhaps the most beautiful genius of all

mutual 15: i think we should give david lynch rpgmaker and whatever happens happens

mutual 16: kpeyboaatrds brpokem gpuys

mutual 17: also heres my work in progress glossary of mixtec words! i still have a long way to go but i love being able to preserve my roots even in this small way

mutual 4: i just finished the black rose arc. question: what

mutual 18: i need emet-selch to be my wife

mutual 19: i need glados to be my husband

mutual 20: visited the ocean today!!! <3 beach pics!!! there is a darkness growing within me

mutual 21: the forms for my legal name change came in. pls vote in this poll of what my middle name should be: Dill Pickle (Dickle for short), Optimus Prime, Tumblr User Gorgonicteratologist, Smeve

mutual 22: just finished my 100th book of the year! this weeks read was the uses of enchantment by the psychologist bruno bettelheim,

mutual 23: reeses penis butter cups lol

mutual 4: i need to hunt akio for sport

mutual 24: oouugghhrgh. hot. dog.

mutual 25: your favorite character or fictional other would want you to brush your teeth and wash your face so you're well rested and wake up feeling refreshed! make them proud!

mutual 26: being a delivery driver isnt the worst job ive ever had but i do keep wondering what itd be like to drive off into the wild blue yonder one day and not come back

mutual 27: weird dog? [phone picture of critically endangered stork]

mutual 28: i think the two phone line polls in front of my house are having a lovers tryst. no way to prove it tho

mutual 4: WHAT

mutual 29: while you bitches are balduring your gates or finalling those fantasies im doing what a REAL gamer does. playing a b tier rpg that came out in 2004 for the 18th time

mutual 30: ^ real. hamtaro ham ham heartbreak is a masterpiece of interactive art. im not even going to call it a video game at this point

mutual 4: THAT'S HOW IT ENDS?! ANTHY?

mutual 31: can you help me pick which drawing looks better: 34% overlay or 36% soft light?

mutual 32: new video essay out. its called disability in video game narratives: final fantasy 14's most reliable fault. i churned the script out over an all-nighter and my mic crapped out halfway through but by god i did it

mutual 33: my new zine bundle is out! if you buy it you also get a discount on all my game jam games! i really cant wait for you to play them!

mutual 4: yall should watch revolutionary girl utena

[aster-blogging-dracula]

Reading BlueCatWriter's Dracula along with Dracula Daily

Ok so I've been meaning to read all of @bluecatwriter 's wonderful Dracula hc fics in order for a long time but I never have time to get with it so I decided to read it along with Dracula Daily this year.

If anyone else wants to do the same, here are the dates (or aproximante dates*) for each fic. (idk if someone has done this already but oh well) (BlueCat if you read this feel free to correct me if i got any date wrong)

*(Since there's 2 pre-canon fics and 2 days of may before dd, i'm setting those fics on those dates. Dates of undated fics are also adjusted to not overlap with date of other fics)

*(The order during the varna stay is a bit wacky since the book gets pretty vague for 2 weeks there but I tried to adjust it as well as possible.)

1-A picnic in may. May 1st 2-Home before you know it. May 2nd 3-I too can love. May 16th 4-Three letters. May 19th 5-The prisioner. May 28th 6-Tonight is mine. June 29th 7-Stay awake. August 14th 8-In sickness and in health. August 24th 9-Full of vague fear. August 24th 10-A golden afternoon. August 31st 11-A doctor’s confidence. September 2nd 12-I come to my friend when he call. September 2nd 13-Blood she must have. September 7th 14-After the transfusion. September 7th or 8th 15-Sleeping beauty. September 10th 16-The wolf in the window. September 17th 17-Sympathy. September 18th 18-Things will be different. September 19th 19-My only son. September 19th 20-Come, my husband. September 29th 21-These others. September 29th 22-Lucy’s second death. September 29th 23-How good and thoughtful. September 29th 24-Brandy, bath, and beadtime. September 30th or October 1st (preferably the former since the dd entry is slightly shorter that day) 25-A pale orphan. October 2nd 26-You will not call in vain. Between September 30th and October 11th?? 27-Renfield’s death. October 3rd 28-Safe for one more moment. October 3rd 29-A week in varna. Between October 15th and October 27th? 30-Waiting. Between October 17th and October 27th? 31-Hungry. Between October 17th and October 27th? 32-Judge moneybag. Between October 15th and October 27th? 33-How i miss my phonograph. October 24th 34-Mem. get recipe for mina. Between October 15th and October 27th? 35-Farewell, sweet friends. October 30th 36-Starlight on the sereth. October 31st 37-Step into the light. Between October 15th? and November 6th (if reading in one sitting wait until november 6th)

38- Love multiplying. November 7th onward

Omg guys it's may already I'm so exited for this. This year I know I will be up do date with everything even tho I'm busy with my End of Degree Project because the dracula fixation i caught last year is a part of my life now I have been planning this so long guys.

[leoruby-draws]

Finally, I can introduce Indigo aka Brainiac 8! Last one, and with this I've done 8 straight days of posting. Not the best week (pretty shitty tbh) but posting these helped take my mind off all that horrible shit. Hopefully it helped a little for you too.

A villain turned hero (then villain again) who comes from the future and tries to make the future belong to Brainiac! She'll be fulfilling the superman role in the group! Best of all, she has pink hair! Yes that's important (no its not lol)!! You know how long she's been in the drafts? Since more than a year ago!

In my last post, I was considering making a oc that would fulfill what I would like for my superman expy of the group but decided against having an oc for that, but ironically I did find a character who was pretty similar to her. The fact that she was actually a 'child' of Brainiac made her, in a way, more perfect for the role. A lot of the kids on the TrWh Outlaw team tend to be stuck on the border between good and bad, so Indigo will have company in that regard. I think at a later point she'll also start making friends with her outsider teammates from the comics as well, I've got a couple of drawings of them as well. I'll post them later tho.

Indigo's personality is split, because just like in the comics, she actually has two sides to her. A sweet, inquisitive, innocent but manufactured side and her 'real' personality, an evil monster bent on enacting Brainiac's plans. Her entrance is similar to the comics, she comes blasting in from the future to try to kill Donna. Unlike in canon, Indigo fails. Cyborg helps rewire her and Donna tries to figure where to place her. Donna then thinks of those Outlaw rascals making trouble everywhere and gets an idea...

Here was where I was working out her costume, I gave her a black dress cuz of her canon black outfit, but it felt kinda boring no matter what I added to it. So I changed it up. I also gave her a human disguise, for whenever she wants to blend in. I also tried to give her a name of sorts 'Aryrl Dox', tried to make it sound like Ariel but don't know if it works.

Also her hairstyle, I kinda styled it after Yukino from KareKano. Yukino was someone who tried to create a secondary facade to fool her classmates into thinking she was perfect. Her obsession for maintaining two different personas gave her a similarity to Indigo, so I thought it'd be funny to give her hairstyle to Indy.

Also with Indigo being the superman of the group, this means Jason/Vanessa/Indigo are the trinity of the TrWh Outlaws. Seems like Vanessa doesn't feel too comfortable around Indigo.

And Vanessa isn't the only who's uncomfortable around Indigo. Karen, Kara, and Brainiac 5 seem rather apprehensive about her. I said earlier that the story that introduces her is similar to canon, where Indy flies in from the future to kill Donna. Since this happens earlier in canon, the plot point from Graduation has to be different. My idea was to have it happen in a ceremony where the heroes(Justice League?) formally establish Steph's and Tim's hero teams (Jason's team mostly rejected doing this, much to Toni's chagrin). A lot of heroes were there so a lot of people saw the destruction Indy brought, so she's currently got a pretty bad reputation atm.

Also I made Indigo's outfit more similar looking to Supergirl's, perhaps its her way to make herself easier for others to accept her.

More Indy's and a little moment between her, Jason and Vanessa. I imagine they're closer to 13/14 here. You can also see me putting her in her canon hairstyle, maybe I should've stuck to it, much easier to draw tbh.

Also here's a bonus little comic under the read more:

A fun comic showing how Indigo comes blasting into the team's life, Donna can't help but find this all rather amusing. As for why is Donna introducing Indy to the team? Well I figured it would just be like her to want to help this child, even if that child tried to assassinated her. Doesn't every child deserve the chance to make friends and be happy? It's a major reason why I like making this au, giving lonely young heroes a more happier life.

A little bit of an epilogue here. It was very important to me that at one point Jason would meet a character that basically 'beats' the shit out of him and then would make him laugh. Basically a parallel to his own meeting with Bruce, at least one meeting like this had to happen! What better character than the girl who doesn't know what humor is yet? I think they're gonna be great friends, lets hope these happy times last forever...

And with that, my 8-day streak of posting is over!!! My poor poor hands, I think I'll skip next week honestly.

Well, I hope you enjoyed all of that, and I hope you all stay safe out there!!

[accio-victuuri]

8/13/2023 : LRLG Contribution 🍓🥝

well… i didn’t expect this release today but i’m taking it and i’m happy that we have them back with us! and released on the 13th too. what a good number! 🫶🏼

you all know how this works, let’s play a game and guess what the “scenes” are referring too 😂😂😂

everything is fake. fanfiction. i don’t have the permission to transfer the whole content. so some parts will be incomplete and others i will just explain what’s happening.

It starts with WYB talking to someone, and it’s obviously XZ.

WYB: 👀

WYB: "nice"

WYB: "Will not guard XZ's freedom to dress” ( I think this means Web won’t get in the way of whatever XZ wants to wear. )

WYB: it's beautiful

WYB: “Really nice”

WYB: I haven't changed yet, don't worry

WYB: come in a while

WYB: "oh"

WYB: "good"

WYB: Just take a picture and wear it. I'll be there later.

So this is 99.9% an event where they both attended and that’s two so far, Weibo Night and that gala in HK. My money is on Weibo Night tho, because WYB said he will come later. In the HK gala, WYB was visible very early in the venue even if technically XZ flew to HK before him.

The wedding clothes 💌

and XZ can wear anything and WYB will probably go— “wow xiao laoshi!” 😍😍😍😍 some are also interpreting WYB’s words ( freedom to dress ) as a sort of comfort to XZ. He was probably hesitant to wear what he did and thought it would be better to play safe. But has a very supportive s/o ( WYB ) who knows what to say to boost XZ’s confidence.

The next part is, still not sure if this is a continuation of WB night. But a girl is saying XZ is beautiful and WYB is there with this expression on 🥹

XZ: "I told you I can not come"

WYB: “Um?"

XZ: “Just kidding, kidding"

XZ: "Do you want to shoot when you go back tonight?"

and then the girls, most likely staff told XZ they can continue and that he (XZ) should coax the child (WYB)

NEXT UP IS A RANDOM EXCHANGE, but cpfs think they are playing a game:

WYB: "Why don't I have a mask"

XZ: "Because you don't have an eyeshadow palette..”

WYB: "What to use"

XZ: "Small eyeshadow combined with big eyeshadow"

WYB: “boring”

XZ: “Don't play when you're bored"

WYB: "Who shared it with me"

XZ: "Don't order it"

(….)

XZ: "There are a lot of materials that you can't sell, but you can use them later.

WYB: "Kids don't play this.”

XZ: "Yeah, adults are playing"

WYB: “….”

Some are guessing it might be this — Dream Detective. I understand cause games like this are relaxing, you won’t be so stressed about it. Plus when I read the reviews, they said the graphics are good so maybe that’s why XZ likes it. So cute tho how WYB will try everything XZ recommends — he will also play with him even if it’s not his type of game. There are other guesses on what they’re playing but this is the one i’m going with.

Then we have another block of text from WYB.

WYB: "When will there be a holiday for you?”

WYB: "Come and see me, come and see me if you're not tired"

WYB: "So are you coming or not"

WYB: "There is nothing missing, and you can buy it here"

WYB: "You and I can't buy it"

OMG MY HEART. Come and see me, come and see me if you're not tired. He’s just so 🥹🥹🥹🥹. How can you say no to that huh XZ? and WYB knows it’s inconvenient to meet but maybe there are days that he really needs company and XZ will grant him that. I’m just so happy they have each other.

"There is nothing missing, and you can buy it here" >> CPFs also interpret this part as, we don’t need anything. You’re all i need, you are something money can’t buy. Anything else we can buy and replace.

I don’t fully understand the next exchange but it’s WYB talking to some people. Not sure if staff or cast. I can’t figure out of the context and looks like it’s not cpn-y. I could be wrong, again, some things on here are hard to connect. But what stood out is this exchange :

WYB: "You can't see both sides, right? You know whether he's skinny or fat."

👧: “Let's just say I've never paid attention to this issue"

👩‍🦳"Besides, you can see it in the video, you have to touch it to know."

So this is like Web who cares if XZ eats enough and he will know that by how XZ looks. If he’s grown too skinny or what. Years later, he’s still so attentive about XZ’s health! 😌😌😌

Then back to WYB again who is obviously talking about The Longest Promise / Yuguyao

WYB: “Didn’t eat, not very hungry”

WYB: "Will you be sad if I don't eat?

WYB: "( laughs ) they're all talking"

WYB: "they said you're good at acting, you're immortal

WYB: "If you don't believe me, ask them yourself"

WYB: “Rave reviews”

Awww. He’s such a supportive boyfriend! I’m cackling tho at how he used that iconic line. In the drama it should be will you be sad if I die?

Kidding aside, yes Yibo. XZ will be sad ( and most likely angry at you ) if you don’t eat!!!

XZ: "Don't listen to this"

WYB: "Your hair can be braided.”

WYB: "Is it hot for you to wear a wig?"

XZ: "nothing to eat"

WYB: "Brother X went to buy it, it was delicious"

Then Web tells him to lie down for a while, an assistant said she will get a pillow and then WYB said he will go out and make a call ( so XZ can rest ).

THE HAIR! XZ’S LONG HAIR!!!!! This? In braids??? WYB i hate you for putting thoughts in my head!

THEN THIS. Everyone’s favorite Chongqing pepper strikes again 🌶️🌶️🌶️

WYB: "Didn't I say come back when you're not tired?"

XZ: "I'm not tired on the road, I'm tired when I arrive"

WYB: "Thank you for coming all this way"

XZ: "I came all the way here and you still go out with your phone"

WYB: "I didn't call. I remember there was a massager, but I couldn't find it.

XZ: “neck pain”

WYB: “i’ll give you a massage”

OMG GG. 😂😂😂😂

Don’t worry, i’m sure WYB loves your more than his phone or whatever! LOL. and you have WYB who is good at coaxing and will massage XZ. God. They are so sweet. I hate them. 💀💀💀💀

There’s also a part of this, they are talking about food and ordering and XZ said he wants an egg custard tonight, so of course WYB made it happen.

There is an exchange where WYB said “"You scared them so much that they dare not eat!” I wanna know. Who was the group or person who sensed XZ’s hangry energy / face that it scared them 😂😂😂

That’s all!!!!

I enjoyed this LRLG and there is also some feeling of relief cause we thought they would be gone for good. Or they will return but not this early. I like reading about their simple life and interactions. Some turtles are also commenting about the two sides of Xiao Zhan and how WYB is the only one who gets to see this side of him.

SO TRUE. 💯

-END.

[deceptive-daydreams]

Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 | Ch. 3 | Ch. 4 | Ch. 5 | Ch. 6 | Ch. 7 | Ch. 8 | Ch. 9 | Ch. 10 | Ch. 11 | Ch. 12 | Ch. 13 | Ch. 14 |

Smoke Signals

Chapter Six - Sugar

W/C: 4.5K

Eddie x Fem reader - Grumpy!Bartender!Eddie x Shy!Reader

A crybaby and the town grump walk into a bar...

A/N: idk why but this chapter was giving me so much trouble and i've been really doubting my writing and second guessing. It's more of a filler chapter but still important to the story. I'm super excited for what's to come tho!!

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Three Weeks Later

“Bambi, go home already.  Your shift ended–”  Eddie pauses to check his watch.  “-jesus, like an hour ago.  Why are you still here?” 

The floors were pristine, mopped to perfection, chairs stacked on top of the tables, and rags started in the washer.  Every glass found home on their corresponding shelves, all dried and perfectly polished for the following shift, not one imperfection among the twinkling surfaces.  The place was spotless and there you were, standing on top of the bar in order to reach the top of the light fixtures which, judging by the amount of dust on them, went neglected for some time now.  Your apron was long discarded on one of the barstools and sweat dripped from your brow, the epitome of hard work if he’d ever seen it.  The Bourbon hadn’t been this clean in years.

“I’m almost done, I swear.”  You reply quietly, clearly far more engaged in your cleaning frenzy than any conversation he was trying to coax you into.

“No, you’re done.”  Eddie marches around the bar, revealing himself just in your peripheral.  “Get outta here.”  There wasn’t an ounce of venom behind his words, however, he was without a doubt becoming increasingly annoyed.

You chance a glance down at him only to find his standard scowl etched onto his face.  Except, it wasn’t as mean spirited as you were used to and it hadn’t been for quite some time.  It was cute; the way his lip would slightly jut out and how his smile lines were so prominent, eyes drooping in irritation.  Endearing irritation that you grew accustomed to.

“I will.”  You state, feather duster swiping through a satisfying amount of dust.  “When I finish.”

“No, get down.”

Your first instinct is to obey without question.  Listen to authority.  But in the previous weeks, you’d found it easier to let loose.  Sure, Eddie was always somewhat crabby but it never intimidated you and whenever he found himself particularly pissed off, he’d banish himself to the back office which aided in releasing any tension you’d built up throughout the week.  So, it wasn’t that difficult to at least attempt some friendly banter.  Especially if you could get him to crack a smile.  It was a win in your books when he tried so hard to withhold it from you or even better, turned around completely to shield his broken composure from you.

“Don’t you have–what did you call it– ‘a shit ton of paperwork’ to do?”  You joke. 

“Ha.  Ha.  I’m serious, get down.”  He mocks, glaring up at you, a stupid little tug pulling at the corners of his mouth.  Barely noticeable, but you take note of it.

“‘M not gonna fall, if that’s what you're worried about.”  You mumble, shaking your head.

“Judging by how many times you nearly eat shit throughout the week, I’m pretty worried.”  

Pretty worried.   

Saliva caught in the back of your throat, you try to play it off like dust that had gotten trapped in your airways, clearing your throat.  Only, your body had just reacted far too quickly to his words, resulting in the failure of a simple bodily function.

“I do not…”  You crouch down, poking the end of the feather duster at his chest.  “...fall that often.”  You pout.

“Yeah?”  A tiny smile pulls at his lips.  There it is.  “That’s why I said ‘nearly’.”

If you could bottle up the look he was giving you, you would selfishly keep it all for yourself to stare at on bad days.  Such mischief and amusement lingered in his gaze.  Sparks lighting up the dark and cloudy haze he usually exhibited.  Like fireworks against a colorless sky, beautiful hues popping left and right but after all, everything is always temporary.

“I don’t ‘nearly’ fall that often either.”  You whine.

“Just get off my bar and go home.”  Eddie demands, voice warm and buttery despite his intent to kick you out.  

Staring at him expectantly, he relays the same expression to you with raised brows.  In response, you cock your head to the side, luring the word out of him.  He doesn’t quite catch on, eyes narrowing while you wait.  A smirk appears on your lips as you remain perched on top of the bar, feather duster forgotten next to you.  His eyes grow a few sizes as if to urge you to speak up.  And then he gets it.

“Please.”  It drips from his tongue like warm caramel.

His eyes relax, creases between his brows ceasing and lids becoming heavy.  Another look you would mentally take a snapshot of just to hang it on the walls of your cluttered brain.  You’d be sure to clear a spot just for it.  

“Gladly.”  You offer the same smooth tone, hopping off the bar only to lose your balance along the way.

And before you can face plant into the hard wood planks, two large hands stabilize you, holding your waist firmly until he is sure you aren't going to collapse, but not yet letting go.  If you were to set aside your cowardly tendencies, you would look up and feel his breath against your face.  And you’re sure you could probably count the faint freckles on his nose that you’d only seen briefly when almost colliding into him during a rush.  You only remain glued to the floor, both your eyes and feet.  

“Careful, Bambi.”  He scolds softly. 

“‘M sorry.”  You murmur.

“No need to be sorry.”  You timidly glance up at him.  “Just–just be more careful.”  He pleads.

You were good and ready for him to yell at you, fully prepared to recoil as he raises his voice but it never comes.  And it hadn’t since that one time with the plates but you were like a skittish animal and long before you had even known him, any conflict had you in a corner every time, eyes full of tears and lip trembling.  You could only hope you didn’t look as pathetic right now.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay.”  He begins to soothe, a certain nervousness in his voice.  Obviously you did look just as pathetic if not more.

His hands had left your waist to graze over your shoulders hesitantly, concern evident in his tone while he consoled you.  He shouldn’t have to console you for fuck’s sake.  Why were you on the verge of tears over your clumsiness?

“Sorry, sorry.  ‘M fine, I swear.”  You attempt to suck back the tears, head tilted toward the ceiling, lip tucked in between your teeth anxiously.  “J-just go do your paperwork.  I’ll be gone in a minute.”  

Just when you think–no hope that he walks away, those large hands are gently grabbing at your wrists as you use your fingers to push the tears back into the corners of your eyes.  A soft touch that for some reason, only made you want to cry more.  

“Stop apologizing.”  Eddie says, attempting to catch your gaze, finding it difficult as you begin to stare at the floor, hiding huge watery globs under your eyelashes.

“Just–let me get my things–”  You begin to voice shakily, vision blurred with tears that you resented.

“Sit down.”  He demands calmly, concern carved into his features from what you can make out through blurred vision.

“No, no, it’s okay–”

“Right here, sit.”  

Eddie directs you to a barstool, the distorted world around you becoming progressively more overwhelming by the second.  And all because you almost fell in front of your boss and he had to catch you.  It wasn’t your intention, appearing as the stupid girl who happened to be a gigantic cry baby, emotions too sensitive to the horrors of the real world.  Though, that was the reality, wasn’t it?

“Sorry.”  You whisper, a few rogue tears escaping after the good fight you put up.

At this, he releases a heavy sigh.  You can’t help but feel childish and small, your confidence devastatingly lower than before as you try to regulate your shaky breathing and wobbly lip.  You just needed a minute, one minute to ride out the wave of anxiety.  Eddie lets your umpteenth apology slide, slowly slipping into the stool next to you.

“I’m–uh–I’m gonna go home.”  Your voice is an octave too high for his liking.

“Not like this you’re not.”

You remain on the stool, embarrassed, your cheeks feeling hot with stained tears.  This was hell if anyone ever asked you.  Slowly but surely revealing just how big of a wimp you were.  Sure, you’d shed a few tears when he screamed at you over the plates but he hadn’t even done anything this time.  You reacted purely on instinct and it was humbling.

“Let’s uh, let’s try this…”  Eddie starts, running a ringed hand through his bangs.  He slides a napkin in front of you before reaching for your apron on the back of his stool, stealing a pen and setting it on the napkin.  “W-write down, uh, write down your feelings?”  He says, so unsure even he couldn’t take himself seriously.

With a sniffle, you try to hide your confusion as you stare at the bland brown napkin.  Eddie groans and for a moment you think it’s because you’re not playing along but quickly dismisses the thought when he reaches for another napkin and steals a second pen from your apron.

“Um, it sounds–it sounds stupid.  It kinda is stupid.  But, um, you just write what you’re feeling?  A-and it’s supposed to…shit I dunno.  It’s supposed to help clear your head I guess?”  He explains.

You wait for him to laugh, wait for him to mock your tear stained face and absolute lack of emotional control.  You wait for the ‘why are you crying’ in the most condescending tone and the lecture as to why you had no reason to cry.  It never comes.  Instead, as you sneak a glimpse at him from the corner of your teary eye, and he starts writing. 

“So, right now, um…”  He clears his throat.  “Right now I’m feeling, uh, concerned?” 

You can tell he’s having trouble coming up with words and that this was difficult for him…feelings were difficult for him.  Something you could heavily relate to.

“Or, uh, you c-can just write…whatever…”  He trails off, clicking the pen against the counter repeatedly. 

Rather than answering, you clumsily pick up the blue pen, dropping it once with a trembling hand before fully grasping it.  Then you begin writing as he instructed.  If he made fun of you for what you were writing down, so be it.  You’d already embarrassed yourself enough.

You expected him to chime in by now, scoffing at what you had written down.  But when you glanced over, he was doodling on his napkin, something that appeared to be a dragon.  Minding his own business.  Awkwardly, you set the pen back on the counter, causing him to peek over at you.

“It helped.”  You mumble.  “A little.”

“Good.”  He replies, tapping his pen against the counter.  “So, uh my therapist usually has me share once I write everything down–or at least share the main points.  You don’t–you don’t have to but that’s just…that’s what we do.”  

Eddie expects you to crumple up the napkin and throw it out.  Then you would leave and think to yourself how ridiculous he is.  He didn’t know how to help people–hell, he didn’t even know how to help himself most of the time.  What he doesn’t expect is for you to shyly slide the napkin in front of him.  Averting his eyes, he’s unsure if he actually has permission to read but when you nod your head ever so slightly, he still has trouble looking down at what you had scribbled out.  It felt like he was peeking into your brain, something he felt he wasn’t worthy of.

Humiliated

Stupid

Exhausted

Anxious

Small

Burden

Crybaby

Lonely

So many words for such a small increment of time that you had been scrawling away on that napkin.  So many words that held such heaviness.

“Wow.”  Is all that he says upon his first glance over.

Anxiously, you suck in a breath, attempting to snatch the napkin back in regret only to fail as Eddie slides it out of your reach.  

“It’s stupid, I-I’m gonna go…”  You begin, hopping off of your stool.

“It’s not stupid–”

Then you were gone, a gust of wind practically slapping him in the face.  He couldn’t find it in himself to complain, only troubled by the inner workings of your mind.  It was all too familiar and he was beginning to feel as if he wasn’t the only one cursed with a diseased mind.  Selfishly, he found comfort in that.  

–

There’s only one thing worse than a shitty car.  Two shitty cars.  Specifically a shitty car and a shitty truck.  Both unreliable, both sputtering every time Eddie put the key in the ignition.  Grandpa Roy’s ‘Ol Reliable four-door sedan wasn’t living up to its name and was on the decline by the looks of it.  It had been for some time, though he was alway able to find a temporary fix and keep it running.  Today he had no such luck.

The truck, Sugar, was arguably in much better shape.  She was well-loved, red paint chipping after years of use and a cracked rear window.  The engine had its moments but she was still better off than ‘Ol Reliable.  

“C��mon, Sugar.  Don’t be like that.”  Eddie mutters, turning the key in the ignition a few times more, only to be met with failure.  “Fuck.”  He whispers, hopping out from the driver’s side to prop the hood open, large hands splayed out along the sides as he prepares for battle.

With a sigh, he ties his hair back and discards his leather jacket on the ground in exasperation, even going as far as to give it a small kick away from his work space.  A wooden work bench was strategically placed on the porch under the awning, leaving no issue for when winter came around so that he had easy access to his tools even in the most dreadful of snows.  Snow hadn’t kissed the ground quite yet but the further into October it got, the more crisp the air became, a subtle announcement for what was to come.

A deep, resentful groan leaves Eddie’s chest as he trudged up the steps to the porch, lips all perfectly pouted while he reluctantly pulls each of his large rings off only to drop them in a cup he’d taken from a diner years ago when he made the move to Knife’s Edge.  An already greased up rag was snatched from the worktop and tucked snugly into his back pocket.

One, two, three.  One, two, three.  One, two, three.

He counts to himself under his breath as he collects the necessary tools.  It wasn’t like he had to be at the bar yet, though he would’ve liked to stop by the store to stock up on cigarettes and see if he could find any of those cocktail cherries on sale.  He wanted to save where he could.  Every cent mattered.  Then he was more than likely going to sulk in self pity while trying to figure out how to summon money from the sky.  Maybe indulge in a beer in his office.  He couldn’t afford to comp beers for himself like that but he could dream.  After that maybe he’d have a good cry before the chaos ensued again.  

Those plans went out the window when Sugar decided to test his patience.  Perhaps he should be grateful to his unfaithful truck for attempting to lure him out of the isolation he planned to encase himself in.  It was one thing to isolate yourself at home, it was another to trap yourself at your place of work hours before it actually opened and beat yourself up over every little thing and question where it all went wrong.  

“Dammit, dammit, dammit.”  He reiterates to himself, tossing a wrench in his hand as he makes his way back to Sugar.  “Go easy on me.”  He begs.

The pumpkins you had been angling perfectly on your porch were suddenly so miserably uninteresting; how could they not be when such an erotic site was placed right in front of your prying eyes?  Regretfully, your wet dream came to life.  Except, you played no part in it and Eddie paid no mind to you.  Not that he ever would.  And even if he did, you’d made it clear that you were a nutcase.  

You still couldn’t tear your eyes away from the way his arms flexed under his short sleeves and how he grunted while tugging at something under the hood of his truck.  Drool could have been dripping from your chin and you wouldn’t notice, too hypnotized by his every movement.  He had opted to wear some black converse today rather than his standard black combat boots.  It was cute, you couldn’t lie, the small change made you giddy.  And the way his shirt was riding up as he stretched himself over the engine felt like a tease.  A peek at what you had once gotten a glance of while wasted but didn’t get to fully appreciate as your sober self.  

God, you could recall the blurry image of him momentarily pulling his puke stained shirt off cautiously, revealing his lean figure.  It was practically pixelated in your mind.  As you reminisce on what your drunk self had taken for granted, reality feels just as distorted when Eddie’s eyes land on yours.  Huge doe eyes, almost cartoon-like catching your attention as if a moth to a flame.  You want to look away, you beg of yourself to look away but your inner voice is muffled; almost as though you were under an enchantment.

And like a siren call, his voice reaches you.  You fear that you may be all too willing to drown just to hear it again.

“Will you hold this for me?”  He shouts, almost desperately.  Almost.

Your eyes widen, hands still resting atop a perfectly orange pumpkin while you sit pretty on your porch step.  An Autumn dream.  Suddenly, Eddie wishes he would’ve kept to himself rather than requesting your assistance.  Had he thought it through, he would’ve opted to magically grow another hand.  Instead, he stands with ruddy cheeks and syrupy eyes, glazed with adoration that he was frantically attempting to wipe from his vision, shoving the feelings that were oozing out of him back into his stupid sweaty skin.

“Um…”  You reply in surprise, already crossing the border between properties, a shy stutter to your walk.  “Well I don’t really know how to…”  You trail off, suspecting that he could figure out the rest of your thoughts on his own.

Oh, how he regrets calling you over.  His clammy hand clutches the wrench, providing no aid in his attempt to calm his nerves.  

“You don’t…you don’t have to, uh…”  He appears as if he’s battling his own thoughts, gaze casted toward the ground as his eyes dart left and right.  “Can you just hold this?”  He finally gets out, pointing to a part of the engine.  “Sugar won’t start and I swear I can have her running again but it’d be a hell lot easier if you could just hold this real quick.”

“Sugar?”

“Sugar.”  He confirms.  “Oh!”  Realization hits him.  “Yeah, Sugar.  My truck.”  

“Okay…”  You whisper, unsure.

You could almost forget the mortifying incident from the early hours of 3:00 AM as you took in his wet chocolate coated eyes, the light Fall breeze seeming to affect him.  His lashes clumped together like art and his nose was tinted the perfect shade of rose, those faint freckles dotted along the bridge like little constellations.

“Just, right here.”  He instructs, turning his attention back to Sugar.  

Following his lead, you adjust your hand where it's needed, an uncomfortable, greasy residue coating your fingers as he works.  From this angle, the afternoon sun casts a golden glow over his profile, flyaway curls highlighted in the light like a halo and nose endearingly round at the tip with lips tucked into his teeth as he concentrates.  And then, his tongue pokes out, an adoring sight that only makes you yearn to reach out and graze your fingertips over the stubble threatening to emerge from his cheek.

“Thought you’d name it something more…tough.”  

Your meek voice earns a glance over his shoulder, brows furrowed in that cute way that everyone always recognized as harsh and cold-hearted.

“What?”  The way his eyes crinkle at the corners paired with his confused expression only give you more reason to let your stare linger a little bit longer, a bold move on your part.

“Um, Sugar–”

“Oh, Sugar.”  

Simultaneously, you refer to his truck, interrupting each other while his elbow grazes your arm as he tightens a bolt.

“Uh, well…she’s, uh, the only girl in my life.”  He jokes, quietly chuckling.  “And, she’s not exactly brand new so I’ve gotta treat ‘er nice.”

“And…she can hear you?”  You question, attempting to hide your oncoming grin.

This time, he only glares at you over his shoulder.  There’s a comfort in the way his eyes seem to swallow you whole.  

“Okay, okay, ha, ha.  I know, she’s a truck–”

“And you keep calling it a ‘she’.”

Eddie pulls back, stepping away from the engine, prompting you to do the same as you stare up at him, a smidge afraid that you might have actually offended him.  A few rebellious curls frame his face, creating the vision of a princely man who in reality, was nothing of the sort.  Not in the sense that he wasn’t gentlemanly, only in the sense that he didn’t care what others thought.

“What?  You never heard of people calling their car a ‘she’ before?”  He asks, offense barely evident in his tone.  More than anything, he appears to be amused by your observation.

“No, I have.  Just didn’t think you seemed like one of them.”  You remark.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Again his eyebrows crinkle in the cutest fashion, lip curling ever so slightly as he brings a hand to his hip.  You begin to think that no one has ever looked so good covered in grease and you’d never been attracted to the smell of oil but you could make an exception if it meant you’d get to see his features this close.  Eddie was a pretty guy.  And the more his colors showed, the more entranced you became.

“I dunno, nevermind.”  You attempt to divert the conversation.

“No, no, you have to tell me.  Please enlighten me.”  He crosses his arms, a smug smirk pulling at his lips.  

“No, forget it!.”  You giggle.

Eddie can feel his shoulders relaxing at the sound.  Can feel his tension release even if just the slightest.  His eyes relax, a lazy gaze focused on you.  Everything suddenly feels so…calm.  As if his life wasn’t falling apart.  You were like some kind of drug that made him forget how shitty things were and if it only lasted a few seconds at a time, he would gladly invest in as much as he could until he overdosed.  Which to be fair, he didn’t think was possible.  

“No, what do you mean?  Say it with your chest, I dare you.”  He nods at you, eyes showcasing that same spark you’d notice every now and then.  The spark only seemed to get bigger and bigger.  One day you’d hoped to see a fire ignite, a full explosion of his personality.

Biting your lip, you look at him sheepishly, doubting yourself.  But something about his gaze eggs you on.

“You just…you’re all…big and bad.”  You mumble, eyes finding themselves glued to the ground.

“Big and bad?”  Eddie repeats.

It’s enough to have you backtracking, pathetically trying to erase your words.  Your mouth opens and closes repeatedly, like a goldfish.

“See, it was stupid!  I was being stupid.  Just forget–”

“Why do you keep doing that?”  He asks, genuine curiosity blended in his tone along with a dash of concern.

“Doing what?”

Your puzzled expression only makes his chest ache.  Leaves crunch under your feet as you fidget, visually nervous.  He hates that he always ends up making you uncomfortable, never able to get a grip though maybe he can blame his highschool-self.  He never talked to girls and maybe if he had, he’d be having better luck right now.  Who’s he kidding, maybe if he just wasn’t even himself he’d be making a lot more progress.

“Calling yourself stupid.”  He mentions quietly.

No one has ever confronted your self-deprecating commentary, only ever remained silent as if to agree with you or they’d simply shift the topic.  Never has someone questioned your reasoning.    

“Oh…well I uh, I didn’t think I did it that often.”  You begin to stutter, clearly taken back.  He wishes he could rewind back to when you were bantering back and forth about his truck.  He probably would’ve found another way to fuck up the conversation, even if he could go back and give himself another chance.  

“But if this is because last night I wrote–”  You start again, only for him to keep running his big mouth.

“A bunch of bullshit?”  He states.  Like it's a fact.

Your wide eyes aren’t a good sign.

“What?”

“Yeah.  Bullshit.”  He sounds so sure of himself.

“Oh.”  

You physically seem as if you're deflating, your body closing in on itself, shoulders slumping while you take a step back.  It was the opposite of what he wanted.  But he could always count on himself to ruin a good thing.

“No, no!  I didn’t mean it like–I didn’t mean–fuckin’ christ.”  Eddie runs his clean hand down his face.  “I didn’t mean it was bullshit.  I meant that…I guess I meant that you shouldn’t feel like that?”

It’s quiet.  Eddie knows he deserves a slap across the face, if anything.  But you just continue staring at the ground, lost in thought.  Moments pass and he’s starting to feel he should dismiss himself and hide forever.  Forget fixing Sugar and just become a hermit.

“Why?”  You whisper.

He doesn’t offer an answer, only shrugs slowly.  He just kept putting nails in his own coffin.

“Don’t you…don’t you think I’m those things?  Like…like there’s something wrong with me?”

Eddie steps closer, not enough to push your boundaries but still enough for you to notice.  He tugs his lip in between his teeth, pulling at it anxiously while he thinks.  And with his arms still crossed, one finger taps at his elbow in threes.  You follow the action.

One, two, three.  One, two, three.  One, two, three.

“No.”  He says simply, to which your head snaps up.

Cola colored irises are awaiting you, welcoming you in a way.  A softer expression falls over his face, his cherub-like features becoming enhanced.

“I don’t think you’re those things.”  Eddie says confidently.  “I think you’re just right.”

~end~

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tags - @gravedigginbbydoll @ohauggieo @spicysix @lunatictardis @ali-r3n @batkin028 @mrsjellymunson @witchwolflea @emma77645 @emxxblog @eddiesxangel @angietherose @lottie-90 @sheneedsrocknroll92 @pullingattheroots @avalon-wolf @vintagehellfire @cryingglightningg @foreveranexpatsposts @winchester-angel @mmunson86 @witchwolflea @kurdtbean @micheledawn1975 @tlclick73 @erinekc @hazydespair @whenshelanded @corrodedcoffincumslut @ms1oftheboys @lma1986 @uglypastels

[solarpunkani]

We are now halfway through page 5

It is 3:44 am

I am going to bed

Me like 2 days ago: i could never write a low stakes thing like some kid looking for his sister’s lost doll the stakes arent high enoygh theres no conflict its boring

Me sitting here at 1am: why is the idea still stuck in my head. Am I seriously doing this. I have so many other projects to be working on.

*deep sigh*

[ineffabildaddy]

20 Questions for Fic Writers ‼️

so @seven-stars-in-his-palm initially tagged me in this 51 days ago and i still haven't done it!! i've also been tagged by @thescholarlystrumpet @voluptatiscausa @gingiekittycat @ineffable-rohese <3 thank u all!! i have to go back and read thru all urs toooo

1. How many works do you have on Ao3? 22!

2. What's your total word count? 177,224 minus about 20k to account for @foolishlovers's chapters of just up the stairs!!

3. What fandoms do you write for? just good omens atm:-)

4. Top 5 fics by kudos:

I'm Beginning to See the Light (848)

Despite Knowing Better... (474)

in your own time (429)

Many Different Ways to Eat an Oyster (396)

Just Up the Stairs (376)

5. Do you respond to comments? i am about 600 comments behind (fuck) but eventually, yes!!

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? i don't write angsty endings. they always fuck and they're always happy about it<3

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? this is tough bc again i just give aziraphale and crowley everything they want every time dkljfkgjdl. just up the stairs has a very wholesome and sweet ending that i'm very happy with tho so i'll say that one<3

8. Do you get hate on fics? i haven't got hate explicitly but i have had a few commenters who just.... clearly Don't Get my work or what i'm trying to say with it. which is totally okay:-)

9. Do you write smut? yesss

10. Craziest crossover? i haven't written any crossover before but i'd love to do a bbc ghosts and good omens crossover!! i also have a far from the madding crowd and good omens crossover planned for the distant future purely bc boldwood and crowley need to fuck imo

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen? not as far as i'm aware!!

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? in your own time is currently being translated into russian!!

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before? just up the stairs with @foolishlovers!! can't wait to write with them again. also plan to eventually collab with @voluptatiscausa so watch this spaceee

14. All-time favorite ship? aziraphale and crowley ofc<3

15. What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? oysters, honestly!! atm it's just..... Not coming to me

16. What are your writing strengths? i find this so difficult to answer!! feel free to suggest some if ur reading thisss

17. What are your writing weaknesses? brevity! that's number one. i think writing side characters is something i need to work on too - giving them full lives in and of themselves so they really jump off the page (or screen)

18. Thoughts on dialogue in another language? if it makes sense, do it!! just hasn't come up for me yet:-)

19. First fandom you ever wrote in? supernatural:-)

20. Favorite fic you ever wrote? definitely just up the stairs, the experience of writing that was so joyous and fun and engaging. also in your own time just bc i'm rly proud of it and it's cosy and it's the only fic i wrote entirely myself that i can go back and look at without having anything i would do differently<3

no pressure tags: @foolishlovers @crowleys-bentley-and-plants @sabotage-on-mercury @brenna @adverbian <3

[dead-in-a-damn-ditch]

just watched the miraculous movie and i have several bones to pick

1. why are the singing and speaking voice actors different

2. marinette fell in love with adrien because he was KIND not (just) because hes PRETTY

3. thats NOT what nooru sounds like

4. thats not how marinette and adrien got their miraculous

5. ITS NOT THE MOTH MIRACULOUS ITS THE BUTTERFLY

6. what the FUCK did they do to you, plagg????

7. the yoyo doesnt have its own free will

8. THEY GOT RID OF MARI'S CHAISE AND REPLACED IT WITH AN ARMCHAIR

9. theyre miraculous HOLDERS not guardians

10. thats not how kwamis OR miraculous work

11. why did gabriel get knocked out from using his miraculous for the first time when ladybug and chat didnt??

12. so GABRIEL gets to keep his regular VA for his song, huh?

13. where did he get the lightning from? hes not supposed to do anything remotely similar until hes making megakumas

14. miraculous dont have a built-in blinking notification system

15. chat wouldnt be that butthurt about ladybug rejecting him, she does that all the time

16. if my adrien said that to his father, he wouldnt be in public school anymore

17. perfect setup for a marichat moment, completely overlooked

18. i dont think hawkmoth can akumatize himself while still transformed

19. akumatizing himself while transformed would ABSOLUTELY NOT give him those powers

20. chat wouldnt leave ladybug hanging like that over a rejection, come on

21. cataclysm has made an appearance, so where the hell is lucky charm?

22. cataclysm rapidly rusts metals not... whatever that is

23. why can hawkmoth turn water into lava

24. WHO GAVE HIM THE FUCKING FORCE

25. marinette shouldve detransformed way sooner that that

26. why and how is the butterfly miraculous supposed to absorb the ladybug miraculous??? i think hawkmoth missed the memo on how to unify miraculous properly

27. why do the suits tear? theyre not supposed to tear

28. and the day is saved because hawkmoth actually cares about his son and isnt as obsessed with his dead wife hes keeping in the basement as in the show

29. how did neither gabriel or adrien see marinette just standing there

30. adrien was older than that when emilee died come on now

31. the power of love fixes paris? not miraculous ladybugs?

32. of course they cant even let marinette and adrien kiss in the end

33. im feeling a setup for nathalie to be the antagonist in a sequel

the animation is pretty tho

[fruitbasketball]

wnba recap 8/16

i didn’t get to watch a game last night bc i was watching paige and flau’jae coach high schoolers into turnovers but i got box!!! so here we go

seattle storm vs atlanta dream

i was surprised that atlanta squeaked this win out bc seattle actually is (dare i say it) a good team

but when rhyne howard drops 30 on y’all heads 😭😭😭 not much you can do i guess 😭😭😭 man i really forget jordin canada plays for atlanta now, but really solid contribution from that starting five

nobody was like exponentially ass this game either like… sure naz only got 6 points, but 13 boards makes up for it. ezi only scores 6 but gets 7 boards

except jordan… maybe jordan was ass

sds back 😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨 i misseddd herrr 🥰 GIMME 29 🗣️🗣️🗣️

29 for skylar, 21 for jewell, 16 for nneka, and NONE FOR NIKA MUHL

i am in pain.

dallas wings vs connecticut sun

nobody can save dallas atp. not even satou. lord what the fuck is THIS 😃😃😃😃

satou had 20/7/8 😃😃😃 rike shot 50% 😃😃😃 y’all cannot STILL BE LOSING

i get that it’s connecticut but like y’all NEED TO QUIT TANKING. NO ONE IS COMING TO SAVE Y’ALL. YOU NEED TO SAVE YOURSELVES.

okay celeste! give us nothing! (2 points)

at with a triple flirt? we love to see it. plus marina with 17 in her debut game??? let’s see how you play with nai on the floor tho 😭😭 i’m playing but fr someone investigate that

YES LIV 4-5 I LOVE YOU BABY YOU’RE DOING SO GOOD

yeah connecticut’s the best team in the league, and i say that because i hate watching the liberty

phoenix mercury vs indiana fever

bro caitlin clark is an insane individual. there is no other way to put it.

what do you fucking mean it’s your first game back and you put up 29/5/10??? on 50% shooting??? who ARE YOU???

and kelsey mitchell with 28?? lyss with a near double??? man y’all make me look GOOFY bc just two days ago i was talking about how good the merc look

dee bro… get another tech. nah go ahead get another fucking tech 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 PLEASE GO A MOTHERFUCKING HEAD AND GET ANOTHER TECH SO HELP ME GOD

another 30 piece for kah 💀💀💀💀💀 and this is how you treat her 💀💀💀💀💀 i am going to bomb phoenix 😃😃😃😃😃😃

man y’all just out here with the sole intent of making me look dumb as fuck bro get it together

headassery

y’all wanna act fuckin stupid go play in the nba i’m TIRED OF THIS SHIT

[homeofthelonelywriter]

Let's call it Fate | Part 3

(A/N) Good god, I'm so sorry these parts are getting so long, I just never find a good spot to stop. Hope you still like them tho!

Pairing: Cardinal Copia x Reader (no Y/N)

Warning: google translate translations, abusive parents (especially mother), arranged marriage, age gap, bullying, talk of grandparents and death of a grandparent, misstreatment of Ghouls ;-;

Prologue | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13

As soon as you were done with dinner, you hurried back to your room. Even though appearing with Papa Primo softened the blow of being late, you wanted to make sure that you’d be punctual from now on.

So, you took a shower, changed into your pajamas, and set an alarm for six-thirty a.m., and six-thirty-five, and six-forty, et cetera. Your last alarm would go off at seven a.m., but you hope that you would already be up by then.

With that, you laid down, the exhaustion of the day finally sinking into your bones, and giving you a dreamless sleep.

When you found yourself in the mess hall, no one else had arrived yet. Apparently the siblings of sin like to sleep in. Although it felt awkward to sit there all by yourself, you decided to just grab some food and dig in. Wouldn’t be much better to leave and come back later.

Once you had filled your plate with all different sorts of breakfast food, you chose a spot in the corner of the room to sit down and start eating. You were almost done when a figure walked in. You glanced up and noticed that it was Cardinal Copia, who just as quickly noticed you. He smiled, before grabbing a plate and filling it with some food. Once he was done with that, he glanced over in your direction before walking to the table with different kinds of beverages.

“Would you like something to drink, cara? You don’t have anything.”

You looked up in surprise, not expecting him to talk to you.

“Oh, uhm…uh o-orange juice?”

Cardinal Copia nodded, before he turned back to the table, grabbing a cup of coffee, along with a glass of orange juice, before he picked everything up and joined you at your table.

“Thank you.”

You smiled as he sat down the glass, expecting him to pick up his stuff onto the head table, where he had sat yesterday evening. Instead, he sat down, casually taking a sip of his coffee. Although he was acting as if it was the most normal thing in the world to eat breakfast with you, you couldn’t help but stare at him.

“Do I have something on my viso?”

The Cardinal looked up, locking eyes with you, a crooked smile on his face.

“Uh…no…I just…aren’t you supposed to sit up there?”

You motioned to the table, Cardinal Copia’s eyes following. Once he realized what you were talking about, he shrugged before scooping up some scrambled egg.

“Eh, no one’s here. Would be more imbarazzante sitting apart, don’t you think?” (awkward)

You frown. What did he just say?

“I…Imbara…what?”

He looked at you for a moment, before he began to chuckle, you quickly joining in.

“Scusa, uhm…it’s uh…what’s the word? Strange? No, no, non è quello.”

You smiled at him. The way he was struggling to find his words was kind of adorable.

“Awkward?”

As soon as the word left your lips, his entire face brightened and he grinned at you.

“Si! Si, that’s the word. Awkward.”

You smiled, nodding in agreement as a comfortable silence fell over you two. While you were eating, other members of the Ministry slowly started trickling in, grabbing their food and drinks, before finding a place to sit. And kind a few of them glanced at you and the Cardinal, bewilderment in their faces. But neither one of you spared them any thought, instead just enjoying each other’s company.

“Ah, I see you met my new friend, fratellino.” (Little brother)

Both of you looked up when you heard the calm voice of Papa Primo. He stood slightly behind Cardinal Copia, a smile on his face. The Cardinal quickly turned around and got to his feet.

“Fratello, cosa ci fai qui da solo? Dov'è la tua infermiera?” (Brother, what are you doing here alone? Where is your nurse?”

Papa Primo waved off Cardinal Copia’s concern and sat down next to him with a heavy sigh.

“I’m alright, Copia. But if you could get me a bit of colazione, I’d appreciate that.”

Cardinal Copia nodded and was about to stand up when you stopped him. You quickly got to your feet and grabbed your empty plate and glass.

“I can do it. I’m already done eating, anyway.”

You smiled at the men before asking Papa Primo what he’d like to have. And after he told you, you made your way over to the buffet and returned your plate and glass, before grabbing some food for the older man. Once you returned to the table, you carefully sat the plate and cup down, before returning to your seat.

“Thank you, tesoro.” (little treasure/darling)

You nodded and he started eating. Cardinal Copia also thanked you quietly, before returning to his breakfast. Before you knew, the Cardinal stood up and brought his plate and cup back, before he returned to the table.

“Fratello, Chiederò a Phantom di venire qui e di accompagnarti giù alla serra quando avrai finito, ok?” (Brother, I’ll ask Phantom to come here and accompany you down to the greenhouse when you’re done, okay?)

Papa Primo nodded, smiling at his little brother.

“Si, si. Grazie, fratellino.”

The Cardinal gently patted his shoulder, before he looked at you and motioned for you to follow him.

“Have a nice day, Papa.”

Papa Primo smiled.

“You too, cara. You too.”

Together with the Cardinal, you walked to the doors of the mess hall, where everyone was told to gather, so the Cardinal could show you to the classrooms. But when you walked outside, no one was there yet.

Cardinal Copia frowned as he looked around before he glanced back inside the hall. You joined in, finding some people you recognized from yesterday, but it was only a small number.

“Where are they?”

You looked at the Cardinal. By now, he looked agitated and it was clear that he valued punctuality.

“I could go back to the rooms, check if someone maybe overslept?”

He shook his head, brows still furrowed as he glanced at his pocket watch. You yourself took a peek at your watch, it was two minutes before eight. As you looked back up, the Cardinal was gone, but you quickly found him again, inside the mess hall, talking to the few you had recognized earlier. They were wide-eyed, nodding before they scrambled to their feet and brought back their plates, before joining you at the door.

Within the next minutes, you were joined by most of the people from yesterday, but a few were still missing. Noah being the one you definitely noticed as not being here. But as soon as you were joined again by the Cardinal, your thoughts left your arranged fiancee.

“Well, most of you are here and…”

He glanced at his pocket watch, before continuing.

“…class should have started five minutes ago, so let’s go.”

The group was about to start moving when the missing three walked around a corner and strolled toward the mess hall. You glanced at Cardinal Copia, noting that he looked livid at their attitude.

“What time do you three think it is? Huh?”

He took a few steps towards them, his gloved hands curled up into fists. But they didn’t seem to care.

“Relax, Cardi. Don’t ruin a perfectly good morning.”

The Cardinal huffed before he took a few large steps until he was in Noah’s face. With quick movements, he had the man by his scruff, pressing his head towards the ground until he was bowing down, and then dragged him back to the group.

“You will respect me and my time, you hear me? The next time I catch you being disrespectful to anyone, I’ll make sure you get kicked out quicker than you can call your mami. Stupido idiota.” (mommy. Stupid idiot.)

He roughly shoved him forward, Noah barely being able to catch himself. He whipped around, his face red with either fury or embarrassment. You hoped for the latter to be honest, but at least he didn’t dare say anything back. Instead, he shrugged it off and made his way into the mess hall, only to be stopped by the Cardinal’s voice. By then, the two girls he had been with had joined the group, hiding within.

“Now, where do you think you’re going?”

Noah turned around, not daring to look the Cardinal directly in the eyes.

“Breakfast.”

The Cardinal huffed, unamused, before he shook his head.

“No, you’re late. Now you’ll have to wait until lunch to eat. Next time, be puntuale.”

Without another word, the Cardinal started walking, you being the first to follow, before you heard the group’s footsteps behind you. With a few quick steps, you caught up to Cardinal Copia, falling into step with him.

“Are you okay?”

He released a deep breath, before nodding.

“Stronzos like him annoy me. Thinking they’re better than everyone just because their family is rich. Bastardo.”

You nod in agreement.

“Can’t believe my parents are forcing me to marry that guy.”

The Cardinal suddenly stopped in his tracks, looking at you with wide eyes. He…they didn’t know about it. Before the group could notice, Cardinal Copia kept walking, glancing at you from time to time. The whole time, it felt as if he wanted to say something, but he didn’t dare too. All too soon, you arrived in a large room, filled with chairs and tables and a black board at the front. Obviously the class room.

“Okay, sit down everyone. We have some administrative stuff to get through, before we can start.”

Everyone settled down, you sitting down in the front row, pulling your notebook and pen from the back you had brought from your room. Once the room quieted down, Cardinal Copia started explaining how our day to day would look for the next few months.

In the morning, there would be lessons in different subject. Latin, Satanism and other religions being among them. Latin and Satanism would be taught by the Cardinal, you didn’t bother to remember the names of the other teachers just yet.

Everyone would also have to choose an extra subject, from a list that Cardinal Copia went through. As soon as he mentioned literary studies, you knew that that was what you wanted to do. When he finally handed out the list, you wrote your name down, next to “Literary Studies” and “Copia Emeritus”. He would be your teacher in that as well.

“Okay, next point. While you will have your classes in the morning, you will be working from after lunch to dinner. There are different jobs, ranging from assistant cook to secretary. I will hang the list up on the black board when we go to break and you will write your name next to the position you’d like. First come first serve.”

He held up the list for a second, before putting it back down. But for that split second, you saw something written in the column where your names were supposed to go. Someone was already signed in and you wondered who it was.

But after that, Copia just went ahead. He continued to hand out lesson plans and other papers, scripts and other things we would need for the different lessons. And once he was done with that, he glanced at his watch and nodded to himself.

“Let’s take a ten minute break. Be back on time, so we can start with class as quickly as possible. Use that time to put your name on your list.”

Cardinal Copia quickly used a magnet to hang the list on the black board before he took a step back. The entire group lunged to their feet and rushed forward. While the others were preoccupied, the Cardinal stepped up to you and motioned for you to follow him.

Once you were outside the classroom, he turned to you.

“Your name is already on the list, I hope you don’t mind. My fratello, uh Primo, he asked me to put your name down as his assistant in the greenhouse. If you don’t want that, I’ll-”

You stopped him, raising your hand with a smile.

“I’d love to work as Papa Primo’s assistant, Cardinal.”

A relieved sigh escaped him and he smiled at you.

“You know, you’ve been here for un giorno and you’re already growing on my family. I think that’s a first.” (one day)

You chuckled, shaking your head, before glancing up at him with a smile.

“I haven’t met your other brothers yet. Maybe they’ll hate me.”

Now it was his turn to chuckle.

“It’s impossible to hate you.”

Almost unconsciously, he reached out and tugged a strand of hair behind your ear. As soon as he realized what he had done, his eyes widened and he took a step back.

“Mi dispiace, non so cosa stavo pensando.” (I'm sorry, I don't know what I was thinking.”

“It’s okay. I have no clue what you just said, but it’s okay.”

You chuckled, reaching for the strand the Cardinal had just tucked away, before lowering your hand again.

“You should really teach Italian here. Could help understanding you guys.”

The Cardinal laughed and nodded, before glancing at his pocket watch.

“We should go back in. Can’t tell them to be punctual and then be late myself.”

You nodded in agreement and entered the classroom again when Cardinal Copia held the door open for you. The others were still huddled around the piece of paper stuck to the black board. But once the door shut behind you, most of them turned around and went back to their seats. By the time you sat down, the only one left standing at the board was Noah, and he didn’t look happy.

“He was too late. Only shitty jobs left now.”

You turned towards the person who had just whispered into you ear. It was a girl, your age sitting right behind you, smiling at you. She reached out her hand.

“Lila. Nice to meet you.”

You shook the hand and quickly introduced yourself, before turning back to the front as Cardinal Copia finally asked Noah to sit down. He looked like he was about to complain, throw a tantrum, but one sharp look from the Cardinal got him to tuck his tail between his legs and run. Once everyone had sat down, the Cardinal started with his lesson. Latin.

“Now, in just a moment, Swiss and Dewdrop should be here…”

As soon as he glanced down at his pocket watch, the door opened and two Ghouls entered, a stack of books in their arms. They quickly started to hand them out, but not randomly. Instead, they glanced inside and then went to a specific person.

As soon as they got a bit closer to you, you recognized the books. It was one of the ones you had seen in your room the day before. After handing out a few, the taller Ghoul walked up to you, holding your book out.

“Here you go, miss.”

He grinned down at you, showing off his canines. You’re sure that most people would find it threatening, but it didn’t feel as if that were his intentions. So you just smiled at him.

“Thank you.”

The smile instantly disappeared and he almost looked…surprised. Before he could react, the other Ghoul came and pulled him away.

“Apologies miss, he isn’t used to…kindness.”

With those words, the smaller Ghoul dragged the taller one out of the room, your gaze following both of them until the door closed. When you turned back around, you met the Cardinal’s eyes, a certain sadness reflected in them. A sadness you were sure he could see in your eyes.

Translations: cara...dear viso...face imbarazzante...awkward Scusa...aplogize No, no, non è quello...No, no, that’s not it Si...yes fratellino...little brother Fratello, cosa ci fai qui da solo? Dov'è la tua infermiera?...Brother, what are you doing here alone? Where is your nurse? colazione...breakfast tesoro...little treasure/darling Fratello, Chiederò a Phantom di venire qui e di accompagnarti giù alla serra quando avrai finito, ok?...Brother, I’ll ask Phantom to come here and accompany you down to the greenhouse when you’re done, okay? Si, si. Grazie, fratellino...Yes, yes. Thank you, little brother. mami...mommy Stupido idiota...stupid idiot puntuale...punctual Stronzos...Assholes Bastardo...Bastard un giorno...one day Mi dispiace, non so cosa stavo pensando...I'm sorry, I don't know what I was thinking.

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