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fanfictionismyaddiction · 6 months ago

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Threes a Formula

Word count: 3.7k

Summary: Y/n Müller, a Media Design graduate from Stuttgart, accepts a live-in nanny position with the prestigious Wolff family in Monaco. She moves to care for their young son, Jack, and quickly adapts to the fast-paced lifestyle of the Formula One world.

Pairing: Toto Wolff x Susie Wolff x Nanny!reader

Masterlist

Warnings: fluff in the beginning. Later; 18+, cursing, age gap relationship, smut, Daddy kink, Mommy kink.

Ch.2 Ch.3 Ch.4 Ch.5

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Chapter 1: Welcome to the Wolffs

Y/n Müller had always been driven by a deep sense of creativity and a desire to make a meaningful impact on the lives of others. Growing up in a bilingual household in Stuttgart, she had developed a passion for languages and cultures, seamlessly switching between German and English. This dual heritage had given her a unique perspective and a love for connecting with people from diverse backgrounds.

When it came time to choose a field of study, Y/n followed her heart and enrolled in a Bachelor of Arts program, majoring in Media Design. She was drawn to the world of visual storytelling, believing that design could shape perceptions and inspire change. Her coursework was rigorous, covering everything from graphic design to video production, but Y/n thrived in the academic environment.

However, as graduation approached, Y/n found herself at a crossroads. While she loved the theoretical aspects of her studies, she longed for a more hands-on role where she could apply her knowledge in real-life situations. She had worked part-time as a nanny throughout her university years, discovering a natural talent for engaging with children and creating enriching experiences for them.

One evening, while scrolling through job postings, Y/n stumbled upon an advertisement that caught her eye:

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WE ARE HIRING

a live-in nanny position for a family in Monaco. bilingual background (German and English)

Job description: A high-profile family deeply embedded in motorsports is looking for a bilingual nanny who can travel with them fully and adjust to a dynamic lifestyle.

Required skills: Background in early childhood care.

Job Location: Monaco (base)

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It didn't say who that family was, but since she was a new motorsports fan, she had recently started watching "Drive to Survive" on Netflix, it only had 2 Seasons and she just started on episode 3 of season 1. All that she knew about motorsports she got from Drive to Survive but there are so many different categories, not only Formula 1. So she decided she may not know who they were anyway.

But that docuseries had piqued her interest, offering a glimpse into the thrilling and often dramatic world of F1 racing, full of fascinating stories, personalities, and grown men that could be so petty and childish sometimes. Between the drama and the drivers, she felt like watching an episode of "The Real Housewives" shows. Not to forget the lifestyle that comes with motorsports.

She felt an instant connection with the Mercedes team, even though they were hardly spoken about in the first season, since she was born in Stuttgart and everyone knows how interconnected that city is with the brand.

That's why her heart raced so fast as she read the listing. It seemed too good to be true! The chances that I really was anything remotely connected with the Show was slim but she still had a good feeling about it.

It also was just a chance to combine her creative background, passion for nurturing children, and newfound love for motorsports while experiencing life in an entirely new and glamorous setting, knowing that the family had wealth seeing as they live in Monaco.

The more she thought about it, the more it seemed like the perfect opportunity. All those factors drove her to apply for the job.

Working for that prominent family would allow her to make a significant impact on a kid's life, providing him or her as nanny a stable and loving presence amidst their busy lives.

The role also offered her professional and personal growth, which a traditional design job might not provide. At least not in that capacity.

And the opportunity to travel with the family in their fast-paced world and manage the challenges of a high-profile household would push her out of her comfort zone and help her develop a diverse skill set.

Plus, the exciting idea of living in Monaco, a city known for its beauty and sophistication, was too tempting to pass up.

She could immerse herself in a new culture, build a global network, and create unforgettable memories. Her twenties were here so she could explore herself and the world so what better way than to travel and make friends.

She could always go back to her design background if she was getting tired of childcare. With her, you would never know.

Being highly interested in the job opening Y/n sent out her resume and a cover letter. Still not knowing who the family is. But she really didn't care who those people were as long as they were nice.

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I am writing to express my interest in the nanny position for your family. With a strong background in Media Design and over five years of experience in childcare, I am confident in my ability to provide a nurturing and enriching environment for your child. My bilingual skills and creative approach to education make me uniquely suited to support your family’s needs.

My experience includes designing engaging, educational activities that support children’s cognitive and emotional development. I am adept at managing busy schedules, coordinating travel, and maintaining the highest standards of discretion and professionalism. I believe my dedication and adaptability align well with the high standards you seek in a nanny.

I was born in Stuttgart, Germany, to a German mother and an American father, which afforded me the advantage of being raised bilingual in German and English. This multicultural background has not only enhanced my communication skills but also instilled in me a deep appreciation for diverse cultures. I am passionate about traveling and eager to learn from new environments, which I believe will enrich my role as a nanny.

Thank you for considering my application. I look forward to the opportunity to discuss how I can contribute to your family’s well-being.

Kind regards,

Y/n Müller

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When Y/n sent off her application, she felt a mix of excitement and anxiety. She had poured her heart into the cover letter, hoping her passion and experience would shine through. The following days were a whirlwind of emotions and activities as she waited for a response.

During those two weeks, Y/n kept herself busy to manage the anticipation. She continued her part-time nanny job, investing extra effort into creating engaging activities for the children she looked after. She also worked on freelance design projects, hoping to bolster her portfolio in case she needed to pivot back to her design career.

Y/n spent time with friends and family, sharing her hopes about the potential job in Monaco. They encouraged her, but the waiting was still nerve-wracking. Every time her phone buzzed, her heart raced, thinking it might be an email from the Wolff family.

To prepare herself for a possible interview, Y/n researched more about Monaco and the world of motorsports. She watched documentaries, read articles, and familiarized herself with the different sports leagues and key figures, hoping to impress the family with her knowledge if given the chance.

When the invitation for a video interview finally arrived, Y/n was both nervous and hopeful. The email's subject line made her heart skip a beat. She quickly opened it and read through the details, feeling a surge of excitement. She was thrilled to finally meet the family and get to know them, but also anxious about making a good impression.

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Dear Y/n,

We hope this email finds you well. Thank you for your interest in the nanny position with our family. We were delighted to receive your application and are impressed by your qualifications and enthusiasm.

Allow us to introduce ourselves. We are Toto and Susie Wolff, deeply involved in the world of motorsport. Toto serves as the Team Principal and CEO of the Mercedes-AMG Petronas Formula One Team, while Susie is a former racing driver and currently the CEO of ROKiT Venturi Racing in Formula E. Our careers require a significant amount of travel and flexibility, which is why we are seeking a reliable, creative, and adaptable nanny to assist in caring for our son, Jack.

Jack is a lively and curious three-year-old who loves exploring new things and learning through play. We are seeking someone who can not only care for him but also foster his love for learning and creativity. Your background in Media Design caught our attention, as we believe your creative skills can help make Jack’s experiences both fun and educational. Your bilingual ability is also a big plus, knowing you can speak both English and German with him.

We have scheduled a video interview with you to further discuss this opportunity. The interview will take place on January 12th at 3 PM. You can join the call using the following link: [Video Call Link].

During the interview, we would like to discuss your experience, your approach to childcare, and how you envision supporting Jack’s development. Additionally, we welcome any questions you may have about our family and Jack’s routine.

We hope you are as excited about this opportunity as we are about the prospect of having you join our family. Please let us know if you have any questions or need further information before the interview.

We look forward to speaking with you soon.

Warm regards,

Toto and Susie Wolff

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When Y/n received the email, her eyes widened in surprise and excitement as she read through it. She had been anxiously awaiting a response, but she never imagined that the family she had applied to work for was as prestigious as the Wolffs. She quickly reread the introduction, her heart racing.

"Wow," she whispered to herself. "Toto and Susie Wolff? This is incredible."

The significance of the opportunity began to sink in. Toto Wolff, the Team Principal and CEO of the Mercedes-AMG Petronas Formula One Team, and Susie Wolff, a former racing driver and the CEO of ROKiT Venturi Racing in Formula E, were offering her a chance to be part of their world. She felt a mixture of awe and determination.

Y/n couldn't help but smile as she thought about little Jack, imagining the lively and curious three-year-old they described. She was thrilled that her background in Media Design had caught their attention and that they saw the potential for her creative skills to enrich Jack’s experiences. Knowing they appreciated her bilingual ability gave her an added boost of confidence.

"January 12th at 3 PM," she murmured, making a mental note of the interview date and time. She clicked the video call link to ensure it worked, not wanting to leave anything to chance.

Her mind buzzed with a hundred thoughts at once. She needed to prepare thoroughly for the interview, making sure she could articulate her experience and vision for supporting Jack's development. She also wanted to prepare insightful questions to show her genuine interest in their family and lifestyle.

Y/n felt a surge of excitement mixed with a hint of nerves. This opportunity was bigger than she had anticipated, but she was determined to make the most of it. She took a deep breath, feeling a wave of gratitude wash over her.

"This is it," she thought. "This could be the start of something truly amazing."

She immediately set to work, planning her preparations for the interview. She wanted to be ready to impress Toto and Susie Wolff, knowing that this was a chance to combine her passions for childcare, creativity, and cultural exploration in an extraordinary way.

The night before the interview, Y/n rehearsed her answers to potential questions and prepared thoughtful questions of her own. She set up her laptop in her parents' house in Stuttgart, double-checked her internet connection, and ensured her surroundings were neat and professional. If this interview didn’t work out, she reminded herself, she could always fall back on her design background. But deep down, she knew how much she wanted this opportunity.

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She took a deep breath and clicked the link to join the video call.

The screen flickered, and soon she found herself face-to-face with Toto and Susie Wolff. Y/n had done a quick search on them prior to the interview, discovering their significant influence in the motorsports world, but she still didn’t know the full extent of their prominence.

“Hello, Y/n. It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Susie said with a warm smile.

“Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Wolff. Thank you for this opportunity. Es freut mich sehr, dass wir die Möglichkeit haben, so miteinander zu kommunizieren (I am very pleased that we have the opportunity to communicate with each other like this),” Y/n replied, trying to keep her nerves in check.

“Please, call us Toto and Susie,” Toto said, his tone friendly and welcoming. “We’ve read through your application and were very impressed. Why don’t you tell us a bit more about yourself?”

Y/n began to explain her background in Media Design, her passion for working with children, and how she believed her creative skills would be beneficial in engaging and educating their son, Jack. She also mentioned her bilingual abilities and her experience growing up in Stuttgart.

Susie nodded thoughtfully. “We think your background is quite unique and would bring a fresh perspective to Jack’s upbringing. How do you feel about traveling frequently and adapting to different environments?”

“I’m very excited about the opportunity to travel,” Y/n said. “I think it would be an amazing experience for both Jack and me. I’m adaptable and eager to learn about new cultures and environments. Traveling has always been a passion of mine, although I haven’t had the opportunity to see and learn as much as I would like to until now.”

Toto leaned forward slightly. “One thing to consider is the nature of our lifestyle. It can be fast-paced and demanding. How comfortable are you with managing stress and maintaining flexibility?”

“I’m confident in my ability to handle stress and stay organized,” Y/n replied. “My studies and previous nanny jobs have taught me how to manage my time effectively and stay calm under pressure. Zudem möchte ich auch nochmal anführen, dass ich eben deutsch bin. Es liegt mir also eigentlich im Blut immer pünktlich zu sein und mein Leben gut zu managen. (I would also like to mention again that I am German. So it's actually in my blood to always be punctual and to manage my life well.)”

The last part was meant as a joke, but Toto and Susie knew she fully meant it.

Y/N paused before she asked a question she was eager to get an answer to. “I am very sorry to tell you I don’t really know about your work background and I was not comfortable googling the both of you so if you don’t mind what exactly do you do? Also, you spoke about traveling how often would that be and when would you like to have Jack with you guys?” It was a long question but she was confident they would answer her fully.

Susie and Toto exchanged a quick glance, their smiles warm and understanding. They appreciated her directness and respect for their privacy.

Susie spoke first, her tone friendly. "No worries at all, Y/n. I’m a former racing driver and currently the CEO of ROKiT Venturi Racing in Formula E. My role involves overseeing the team’s operations, strategy, and ensuring we’re competitive in the championship. It’s a dynamic and demanding job, but one I’m very passionate about."

Toto nodded, adding with a hint of enthusiasm, "And I’m the team principal and CEO of the Mercedes-AMG Petronas Formula One Team. It’s an intense job, managing the team and ensuring we perform at our best during the racing season. So, as you can imagine, our schedules can be quite demanding and involve a fair bit of travel."

Susie continued, "Regarding travel, we do move around quite a bit, especially during the racing season, which runs from March to December. There are races almost every other week, and they happen all over the world. We'd love to have Jack with us during these travels, but it depends on the location and the duration of our stay."

Toto chimed in, "Ideally, we'd like him to join us for the major races and during the summer break when the schedule is a bit lighter. It's important to us that he experiences different cultures and environments, but we also want to ensure he has stability in his education and routine. We’re looking for someone who can help maintain that balance for him."

Susie nodded, "Exactly. We want Jack to feel secure and supported, no matter where we are. Your role would be crucial in providing that stability while also making the experience enjoyable and enriching for him."

Y/n listened carefully, nodding as Susie and Toto explained their busy schedules and travel needs. When they finished, she smiled confidently, ready to reassure them of her capabilities.

"Thank you both for sharing that with me. Your careers sound incredibly exciting and demanding, and I can see how important it is to you that Jack has stability amidst all the travel."

She paused for a moment, collecting her thoughts. "I have extensive experience working with children in various environments, including situations where parents have high-profile, busy careers. I understand the importance of creating a stable, nurturing environment for Jack, no matter where we are. I am skilled at maintaining routines and providing the educational support he needs to thrive."

Y/n continued, her voice steady and reassuring. "I’m very adaptable and have handled travel with families before. I’m organized and proactive, ensuring that everything Jack needs is prepared and that he feels secure and happy in each new location. I also love finding creative ways to make travel educational and fun for children, turning each new place into a learning opportunity."

She smiled warmly, looking between Susie and Toto. "I’m confident that I can provide the balance you’re looking for—supporting Jack’s growth and education while also making sure he enjoys the unique experiences your lifestyle offers. I’m excited about the possibility of being a part of your family and contributing to Jack’s development in such a dynamic and enriching environment. That of course is if you would have me.” She smiles at them.

After a few more questions about her approach to childcare and her thoughts on integrating educational activities with play, the interview began to wrap up.

“We’re very impressed with you, Y/n,” Susie said, glancing at Toto, who nodded in agreement. “We think you’d be a wonderful fit for our family.”

Y/n’s heart soared. “Thank you so much. I’m really excited about the possibility of working with you and getting to know Jack.”

“We’ll be in touch soon with more details,” Toto said, smiling. “Thank you for your time today.”

As the call ended, Y/n felt a rush of exhilaration. The interview had gone better than she could have imagined, and she felt a sense of validation in her choices and aspirations. The Wolff family represented a new path, one filled with opportunities for growth, adventure, and meaningful connections.

Two days later, Y/n received another email from the Wolffs.

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Dear Y/n,

We are thrilled to inform you that after careful consideration, we would like to offer you the position of nanny for our son, Jack. We believe that your skills, experience, and personality make you the perfect fit for our family, and we are excited about the prospect of having you join us.

As mentioned during the interview process, we would like to start with a trial period to ensure that there is a good connection between all of us. Therefore, we propose a trial run of three months, during which we can assess how well we work together and whether this arrangement meets everyone's needs.

We are genuinely excited to welcome you into the Wolff family. We believe that your background in Media Design, your bilingual abilities, and your passion for childcare will make a positive impact on Jack's life and development. We are confident that you will create a nurturing and stimulating environment for him, allowing him to thrive and grow.

Regarding logistics, we understand that relocating to Monaco is a significant step, and we want to make the transition as smooth as possible for you. If you are able to join us by the 1st of February, it would give us ample time to settle in and get acquainted before the busy racing season begins.

Please let us know if you have any questions or concerns. We are here to support you and ensure that you have all the information you need.

Once again, congratulations, Y/n. We are looking forward to embarking on this exciting journey together.

Warm regards,

Toto and Susie Wolff

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As Y/n sat amidst the flurry of emotions, her mind drifted to the impressions she had formed of Toto and Susie Wolff during the interview process. Toto, with his focused demeanor and stern yet approachable presence, exuded a sense of determination and drive that commanded respect. She couldn't help but admire his unwavering commitment to excellence, balanced by an underlying charm that shone through in the occasional dad joke or lighthearted quip.

In contrast, Susie embodied elegance and grace in every aspect of her being. Y/n admired the way Susie carried herself with poise and sophistication, radiating warmth and sincerity in her interactions. Behind her poised exterior, Y/n sensed a deep well of motivation, care, and love for others, driven by her passion for making a positive impact in the world.

As Y/n pondered these thoughts, she felt a sense of gratitude wash over her. To be welcomed into the lives of such remarkable individuals, to work alongside them in nurturing and shaping the life of their son, Jack, was an honor beyond measure. She knew that under their guidance and with their support, she would not only thrive but also contribute to creating a loving and enriching environment for Jack to grow and flourish.

With a renewed sense of purpose and excitement, Y/n turned her attention back to the task at hand—preparing for the journey ahead. As she packed her belongings, her heart swelled with anticipation for the adventures that awaited her in Monaco, where she would embark on a new chapter of her life filled with love, laughter, and endless possibilities.

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@pand-de-pandora-blog @wonderwolffs @laura-naruto-fan1998 @strangegirl974 @totothewolff

#fanfiction #reader insert #fanfic #f1 #f1 x reader #susie wolff #susien wolff x reader #toto wolff x reader #toto wolff #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 fic #torger christian wolff #totowolff

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literaryvein-reblogs · 14 days ago

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Writing Notes: Book Cover

“Don’t judge a book by it’s cover!” We’ve all heard the phrase and we all know that’s impossible. Because the cover of a book is the first thing a potential reader sees—it should stop them in their tracks. It’s a very powerful marketing tool; having a well-designed book cover is crucial.

Tips for Making a Great Book Cover Design

Using more than two to three typefaces on a cover is discouraged, as it can look really messy.

Keep things simple. Your cover will be in a sea of other covers so try to keep your design from getting muddy and make sure it stands out.

Show your designs to people who have a design eye and/or you trust. It’s great to get feedback.

If you hire a professional designer, write a brief and send them info. Be really clear on what you want. Designers usually do a certain number of design rounds included in the agreed upon fee and any extra rounds of design will be extra.

If you hire a professional designer, they will likely have ideas about printing and may have connections to printers. They are a resource so don’t forget to ask questions.

Don’t forget: a book cover is an important part of selling any book. Whether you decide to do it yourself or collaborate with a professional, pay special attention to this part of the process, as a great cover goes a long way.

6-Step Guide: Professional Book Cover

STEP ONE Generate Ideas. Look around at book covers you like. Go to a bookshop and peruse what’s currently happening in book cover design. Take notes of what elements you like on the cover image. A certain typeface? Color? Do you prefer an image or an illustration or something purely typographic on the cover? Another option is to create a mood board. You can use a platform like Pinterest or Evernote, or create a folder on your desktop, and pull book cover inspiration from the web. While you’re gathering inspiration, keep in mind what genre your book is and what kind of book design feels appropriate.

STEP TWO Find a Designer (Who Could Be You!). Do you have design skills? If so, your next step is to begin layouts and mock-ups of the covers. You should use whatever software program you are comfortable with. Most professional book cover designers use a program from the Adobe Creative Suite:

InDesign. InDesign is a multi-page design platform but can also be used for single page design.

Photoshop. Used to manipulate and experiment with photography.

Illustrator. Illustrator is a vector-based program, which means you can create graphic art that can be scaled up or down without loss of quality.

Photoshop and Illustrator. These can also be used together as you can bring your Photoshop file into Illustrator to set the type after you have worked with your cover image.

If you don’t have design skills, now is a great time to hire a book cover designer. The first step is to figure out what kind of budget you have for this. A designer’s fee will range depending on their expertise. Get a figure in mind and then write a design brief which should include the book specs:

Size

Print-run

Intended audience

Where and how the book will be published

Anticipated publish date

You should also include a summary of what the book is about and what you are looking for in a cover. Also share the inspiration you’ve gathered with the designer.

If you don’t have design skills but want to create the cover without the help of a professional, there are a few software programs you can use, such as Canva or 100 Covers, design tools that allow you to DIY the cover (for free or a fee).

STEP THREE Decide on the Dimensions. If you’re self-publishing and printing with a local printer you can work with them to make sure your book dimensions will fit on their printer (remember a book prints front, back, and spine in one sheet of paper). It’s also a good idea to find examples of books whose size you like and feels good to hold. Use that as a jumping off point for your book.

Book Cover Dimensions List. If you are printing for a specific market, from print to ebook, here is a handy list:

Amazon Kindle Direct Publishing File Format: JPEG or TIFF Cover Size (Recommended): 2560x1600 pixels Cover Size Requirements: between 1000x625 pixels and 10,000x10,000 pixels (one side must be at least 1000)

Apple iBooks File Format: JPEG or PNG Cover Size (Recommended): 1400x1873 or 1600x2400 pixels Cover Size Requirements: at least 1400 pixels wide

Barnes & Noble File Format: JPEG or PNG Cover Size (Recommended): Rectangle height and width, at least 1400 pixels Cover Size Requirements: Min. 750 pixels height and width

Kobo Books File Format: JPEG or PNG Cover Size (Recommended): 1600x2400 pixels Cover Size Requirements: Min. 1400 pixels width

Smashwords File Format: JPEG or PNG Cover Size (Recommended): 1600x2400 pixels Cover Size Requirements: Min. 1400 pixels width Draft2Digital

File Format: JPEG Cover Size (Recommended): 1600x2400 pixels Cover Size Requirements: Tall rectangle

STEP FOUR Choose Your Style

Photo-based cover. If you’re creating an photo-based book cover, you’ll need to source stock imagery. There are lots of great resources online to find stock imagery including ShutterStock, Getty Images, and Adobe Stock. (Keep in mind: most photography archives require payment to use their images. Always investigate the copyright of images you’re interested in using.) Look for images that convey or allude to your book’s genre. You can use programs like Photoshop to manipulate your image, making it black and white instead of color or cropping it in a certain way.

Illustration-based cover. If you’re considering a more graphic approach to your cover, Illustrator is the tool to use. You can bring hand-drawn drawings into it and outline them to create scale-able, high-res illustrations which you can manipulate within the program. You can also create shapes, patterns, experiment with typography within illustrator and play with color, transparency, size and much more.

Typography-based cover. Finally, many successful book covers use typography as the main graphic device. This takes some skill and knowledge of typefaces, the historical context of a typeface, and how to manipulate it thoughtfully. That said, using type as a graphic can be very impactful.

STEP FIVE Pick a Typeface (Font). No matter what kind of cover you are designing, you are going to need the title of the book and the author’s name on the cover. As mentioned above, picking an appropriate typeface is very important. You want to pick something that feels right for your book—is it a sans serif or serif? A heavy weight or lighter weight? You want to make sure it’s not something with a lot of baggage, like Comic Sans or Papyrus. It is a good idea to actually do a little research on when, where, and who your typeface was designed by to give you context and feel out if it will be right for your book. You might also consider using up to two different typefaces, one for the title and one for your name. A serif and sans-serif mix can give a bit of contrast and visual interest. There are some typefaces that pair really well together. Check out the website TypeWolf to get ideas of what fonts pair well together.

STEP SIX Test, Tweak, and Repeat. Once you have a few versions of your cover, print them out on your home printer and take a look with a critical eye. Does the type size feel chunky? Too bold? Too small? How does your image look? Is it cropped right? Are the lines of your illustrations too thin and not showing up? Go back and refine your design and then repeat! Don’t forget to look at your book cover as a small thumbnail as well. People are on their mobile phones and you want to make sure your cover still stands out and is impactful.

Book Cover - serves as your first impression with potential readers—and though book covers don’t always look the same, they do tend to contain the same essential elements.

Design standards may be different in the world of traditional publishing than they are in self publishing, and book cover templates for physical paper books may differ from those of ebooks—but they all serve the same purpose.

Some Functions of a Book Cover

A book’s cover provides essential information. At its most elemental, a good cover includes a book’s title, the author’s name, the publisher, and the price.

A good cover offers clues about your book’s content and tone. Your cover design indicates whether your book is a work of high-minded literary fiction, a pulpy page turner, or a compelling work of non-fiction.

A front cover reveals a book’s genre. You can usually tell if you’re holding a thriller, a memoir, a sci-fi epic, or a nineteenth century classic just by looking at a book’s cover art and typography.

A back cover offers broader context. It may feature quotes from reviewers and fellow authors. Softcover books may contain a plot summary or author biography on the back; those summaries and bios are typically moved to the inner flaps of a hardcover book.

How to Hire a Professional Book Cover Designer

Book covers are marketing materials, and a well-designed professional cover can make your book stand out among the competition. If you want someone with expertise in the realm of cover design to work on your book, you may want to hire a professional book cover designer. Here are some steps to consider when hiring creatives to design your book cover:

Hire a cover artist. A cover artist produces the cover art and imagery that will appear on your book cover, either on their own or with heavy input from an author or publisher.

Hire a graphic designer. Certain graphic designers specialize in layout; they incorporate cover art that you provide them—whether that’s an original illustration, photograph, or even a stock image—into the overall design of the cover.

Find a cover designer online. Reedsy is one of a number of online resources for independent authors, self-publishers, and anyone connected to the world of books. Many professional book designers list their services on Reedsy.

Use your personal network. Seek out writers’ groups, either locally or on Facebook. In these groups, people share professional referrals and help support one another when a member has a new book in the works. A group of like-minded individuals can be an invaluable resource when creating your own book cover for the first time.

When to Call a Pro:

You have a budget (a designer’s fee will vary depending on experience and location).

You have enough time to work with the designer.

You have a clear idea of what you want or at least what you don’t want.

You don’t have any design skills.

You don’t want to invest in the design software.

Your book isn’t selling.

How to Design a Book Cover Yourself

If you don’t have the budget for a pro designer or just have a DIY itch you want to scratch, it is easier than ever to design your own book cover. While it may not be quite as rudimentary as when you covered your textbooks in a brown paper bag back in fifth grade, modern technology has made cover image design accessible to anyone with a computer. Here are some tips:

Use a template. There are numerous websites that offer book cover templates and step-by-step tutorials covering basic cover design skills. Some even have a free book cover creator tool, along with cover ideas, design tips, pre-made design templates, and digital cover image tools.

Use standard design software. Book covers can also be made using standard home computing software including Photoshop, Microsoft Word, and even (with a little sweat equity) Google Docs. This is particularly easy if you are importing a pre-made cover image from another source.

Make a prototype. The process for assembling a book is straightforward and satisfying. If you want to test out how your book will appear in print, you can learn to bind a copy yourself.

When to DIY:

You don’t have any budget for design.

You have design skills to do it yourself.

You have the design software.

You have a template and know exactly what you want.

You have people with an eye for design that can guide you.

How to Make a Hardcover Book

So you’re ready to bind your own book. Here’s what you’ll need:

Content, of course.

Uncoated printer paper for book pages

Decorative paper for endpapers, such as wrapping paper or cardstock

Davey board (aka bookbinder’s board), thin chipboard, or cardboard for the book covers

Craft knife

Polyvinyl acetate (PVA) glue such as Elmer’s glue

Hot glue gun and glue sticks

Ruler or straight edge

A long stapler

Thin fabric or book cloth for cover

Binder clips

Thick decorative paper (optional, for dust jacket)

Paper trimmer (optional, for trimming book pages)

Paintbrush (optional, for spreading glue)

There’s more than one way to bind a book, and you’ll find tons of great tutorials online for making homemade books, including Japanese bookbinding and perfect bound softcover books. The most popular style of hardcover book binding is called case binding, which is traditionally done by stitching pages together with thread. Here is how to make a hardcover book step-by-step—no sewing or special materials required:

Assemble the content. The number of pages and the type of paper you work with depends on whether you’re binding a novel, a full-color photo book, or a sketchbook. Familiarize yourself with the format by taking some hardcover books down from your bookshelf and observing how they were made.

Format your pages. If you’re creating a blank book, you can skip this step. If you’re printing a book with text, you'll need to format the text so that you can print it into a book. You can get help with this at a copy shop, or you can download book design software and print at home. Eventually, you’ll end up with a PDF with a page count. This page count has to be divisible by four so that your book can be bound as folios made up of eight sheets of paper (32 pages) each. You may need to add some blank pages at the end of the book to keep your page count correct for the folios.

Print and fold. Once all of your pages are printed, fold pages in half and stack eight within each other, making sure the pages are in the correct order. Staple the folios together in the folds, alternating the location of the staples so that you don’t end up with a bulge in the spine.

Bind your folios together. Arrange all of the folios in the correct order and flatten them between heavy books. Once your folios are flat, it’s time to glue them together. Hold the folios together with binder clips and use a glue gun to glue the folios together along the stapled edge. This will become your book’s spine. Be careful not to overdo it on the glue: Use just enough to keep the folios together. Before the glue cools, use a thin piece of fabric to cover the spine only.

Even out the pages. Carefully trim the edges of the pages with a paper trimmer or craft knife, if needed.

Make the hardcovers. Cut two pieces of cardboard for the front and back covers of your book. For the spine, cut a piece of cardboard that is the same height as the front and back covers, with a width equal to the thickness of the spine plus the front and back covers.

Attach the hardcovers. Paint the cardboard (both covers and the spine piece) with a thin layer of PVA glue and attach to the cloth you’ll use to cover your book, leaving a space between the covers and the spine equal to one and a half times the thickness of the cardboard. Let dry.

Assemble the book. Use PVA glue to attach the fabric-lined spine of your bound folios to the cardboard spine. Keep the book propped up between other books while you wait for it to dry.

Attach the endpapers. Trim the paper lining so that it’s twice the size of the first page and fold it in half. Paint glue onto the inside of the front cover and the front page, and attach paper lining. Repeat with the back cover.

Make the dust jacket. If you’d like to cover your book with a dust jacket, measure a piece of thick decorative paper as tall as your book and as wide as the entire book, plus a few extra inches to fold over the edge of the cover. Fold the dust jacket over the bound book. Lay another heavy book on top of it to help the dust jacket keep its shape. This is the place to add a cover design, if you’d like.

Sources: 1 2 3 4 ⚜ More: Notes & References ⚜ Writing Resources PDFs

#books #book cover #writing tips #writeblr #booklr #literature #writers on tumblr #writing reference #dark academia #spilled ink #writing prompt #creative writing #bookblr #writing inspiration #writing ideas #writing advice #on writing #light academia #writing resources

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flaticeball · 1 year ago

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a jew review of: nhl team happy hanukkah posts

good evening and chag sameach to my hanukkah-celebrating pals out there on hockeyblr. today i bring you: a non-comprehensive and entirely subjective review from one (1) jewish hockey fan of the graphics posted by various nhl teams in celebration of the first night tonight. i definitely missed some, and some teams didn't post any at all, so it's a bit patchwork. here we go.

vancouver canucks: this is an extremely serviceable graphic. love the blurred dreidels to give the effect that they are spinning. very funny. props for the detail that there is a shadow of the menorah on the ice. straightforward. icemenorah is a themeTM but some did it better than others and this is a classic. 7/10

post continues under the cut for the sake of your dash and mine.

carolina hurricanes: obsessed with what the canes have done here though i cannot comprehend it. the weird techno style textured background. the out of focus magen david around. THE HURRICANES. IN HEBREW. WITH THE LITTLE CANES LOGO THING I FORGET THE NAME OF ON THE HEI? INCREDIBLE. points for creativity. overall baffling vibes. 6/10.

pittsburgh penguins: this is just adorable. you hired someone to draw this. spectacular work, guys. it's giving a bit of 'we browsed the target hanukkah deco section for inspo' but it's too adorable for me to care. it's team themed, it's hockey themed, it's holiday appropriate. love everything going on here. they get points for doing what very few other teams are doing and remembering this is night one, so only one candle is lit. most everyone else is getting a bit a head of themselves. 9/10.

washington capitals: and here we have another edition of the icemenorah, with a minimalist twist. this graphic screams 'oh fuck wait is that tonight' which to be fair is also how i, a jew, felt about realizing tonight was the first night of hanukkah. could'a done more, but it's perfectly fine. 6/10.

new jersey devils: this fucks. it's got devils themes. it's got a cool style. it's got vibes. it's got: more hockey stick menorahs which i am always excited about. that shamash candle is a graphic design nightmare but other than that i am all on board. 8/10

vegas golden knights: i love the gold foil effect and that you remembered there was more to hanukkah than candles, that's nice, as is involving the other affiliates! however. where are the vibes. this is not the vgk wishes you a chag sameach, this is a greeting card i got on etsy. 6/10 just bc i KNOW you can do better. where's the neon, babes.

los angeles kings: oh this is fun. it's icemenorah: WITH A TWIST. the art style is cute, it's got plenty of hockey theme, it's also very obviously LA-y, i'm giving them points for this one. the shadow is insane but that's okay, it's ~stylistic. it's cute. 7/10. UPDATE: definitely AI. boo hiss. 0/10.

montréal canadiens: this is probably my favourite for sheer vibes. you got: levitating icemenorah. you got: action-shot candle lighting. you got: remembering this is night ONE. you got: the implication that the torch is the shamash candle????? you got: JOYEUSE HANOUKKA!!!!!!!! (and like happy hanukkah or whatever i guess). obsessed. it's so funny. it's amazing. 9/10.

#long post #happy hanukkah besties here is: SOME THOUGHTS #chag sameach!!!#vancouver canucks #carolina hurricanes #pittsburgh penguins #washington capitals #new jersey devils #vegas golden knights #los angeles kings #montréal canadiens

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thatchickwiththecamera · 6 months ago

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ROOMMATES | Jesse Cash One Shot

Pairing: Jesse Cash x Reader

Warnings: Contains Smut, 18+ Only

Your studio in the house wasn’t the same as the spare rooms Michael and Noah used or the garage space Jesse converted to write and produce music. Your desk and iMac were set up in one corner, with a small makeshift reading nook in the neighboring one by the window. The other half of the room had a couch flanked by two tall reading lamps on either side with miscellaneous shelves and crates of camera gear along with a few spools of various colored backdrop paper hung neatly on the wall.

You worked as a digital media creator and while you worked in the music industry, your realm of expertise was more in tune with the world of photography, videography, and graphic design as opposed to the actual creation of music like your roommates. You had met the guys through working on a few projects with your friend Orie McGuiness and when he moved out he had vetted you as being the perfect person to take over his portion of the lease.

Living in a house full of creatives was quite the experience. It wasn’t unusual for one of the guys, mainly Noah or Jesse, to randomly pop in unannounced while you were in the middle of a project. Your studio was sort of neutral ground. It was a place where they could take a break from their own work while still being in a creative environment. They’d come in and inquire about whatever project you were currently working on and you’d take the time to get a fresh eyed opinion on the progress you had made.

Noah would sit on the couch and tell you all about the newest anime he was watching, what artists he and Jolly had recently been hired to write for, or whatever new ideas he, Matt, and Davis had come up with for the next tour.

With Jesse you’d end up talking about almost anything and everything. One day you’d have a long discussion about something as simple as pro baseball box scores and your mutual appreciation of the Red Sox. Other days you’d talk about things like why Anthony Green has been in so many rock bands, and why Circa Survive was your favorite over Saosin.

If it was too hot to sit outside, Jesse liked to come in and commandeer your reading corner, claiming that your window had the best natural lighting in the house. Which had also led to a portion of your bookcase being overrun with books Jesse had finished and insisted that you should read next.

There were many nights where you’d both end up in your studio reading. It was one of your favorite routines that had developed since you had moved in two years prior. Either one of you would be in the chair in the corner and the other would be on the couch, or sometimes, you’d both end up curled up on opposite ends of the couch under the two reading lamps with whatever books you had become engrossed in that week.

Around six thirty, you heard the door to the studio open. Right on time.

You looked over from where you sat on the couch to see Jesse walk in with the latest Stephen King novel he was reading wedged under his arm. You slipped your bookmark between the pages of your new Sarah J. Maas bestseller and moved the pile of pillows next to you. He kicked off his shoes and settled into the other end of the couch. You shared a smile before the both of you slipped into a comfortable silence.

About an hour or so had passed before Jesse reached down and grabbed one of the discarded throw pillows and tossed it toward you. You set your book down and watched as he laid his head against the pillow now propped up against the side of your lap and kicked his feet out, resting them against the opposite end of the couch. Once he was comfortable, he reopened his book and continued reading. You smiled to yourself before resting your arm against the top of the pillow and returning to your own book.

As you got lost in the pages of the fantasy book, your fingers began absentmindedly fiddling with the mess of curls that peaked over the top of the pillow. Jesse hadn’t cut his hair since the start of the year and the brown coils he usually hid under his favorite black ball cap had grown long and wild over the last six months.

You found yourself drawn into the rhythm of reading, the soft hum of the air conditioning providing a soothing background noise. Jesse’s presence beside you was comforting, his warmth seeping into your side where he leaned against you..

Lost in the world of your book, you almost didn’t notice when Jesse shifted beside you, stretching out his legs a bit more. You looked up instinctively, meeting his eyes briefly before he glanced back down at his book, a small smile playing on his lips.

"Hey, do you ever wonder if there’s more out there?" Jesse's voice broke the silence, his question unexpected but not entirely out of place given the late-night contemplative mood.

You considered his question, choosing your words carefully.

"More in what way?"

He hesitated, as if searching for the right way to phrase his thoughts.

"I mean... more than like what we're doing now. More than just work and routines. Like... possibilities we haven’t explored."

The air between you felt charged, the weight of his words hanging in the small space of your studio. You could feel your heart race a little faster, a mixture of excitement and nervousness bubbling up inside you. But before you could respond, the door to the studio swung open abruptly, startling both of you.

Noah stood there, grinning mischievously.

"Hey, sorry to interrupt... but I need Jesse’s help with something. You guys are reading together again, huh? Cute."

Jesse shot Noah a playful glare, but you could see the slight flush in his cheeks as he quickly straightened up, removing himself from the cozy position against you.

"Yeah, I'll be there in a sec," he replied, gathering his book and pushing himself off the couch.

"We'll talk more later," he added with a meaningful look before following Noah out of the room.

Left alone in the wake of their departure, you let out a sigh of mixed emotions. It seemed every time the atmosphere between you and Jesse began to hint at something more, it was swiftly interrupted or diverted. The unresolved tension lingered in the air like an unfinished melody, leaving you wondering what could have been said if only there had been a few more moments of silence.

With a shake of your head, you returned to your book, though your mind kept wandering back to Jesse’s question and the unspoken connection between you.

—

A few days passed and you hadn’t seen Jesse much. He was busy fine tuning the last few guitar riffs and lyric ideas he had in preparation for when he met with the rest of the ERRA boys to track their new album the next week.

It was a little after two in the afternoon when you emerged from your studio and shuffled your way downstairs to the kitchen. You hadn’t planned on working as long as you had that morning, but you had found yourself locked in on your most recent project and had lost track of time. You hadn’t realized how late it was until your stomach started growling from lack of food.

You popped a snack plate of leftovers in the microwave to reheat and decided to knock out some of the dishes that were left in the sink from earlier in the day when the guys had made their morning coffee. You were drying Noah’s white ‘Shuh Da Fuh Cup” mug when you heard the sound of the sliding glass door open.

You looked up to see a shirtless Jesse walk in wearing a pair of athletic shorts and sneakers. His curly hair was damp and his upper body glistened with a layer of sweat from working in the backyard all morning under the blazing California sun. Living with three guys, you were very much used to seeing the guys lounge about and walk around the house in various states of undress.

But your eyes couldn’t help but follow his form as he walked through the kitchen. Noticing the details of the familiar tattoos that adorned his stomach, chest and arms as he grabbed a clean glass from the drying rack next to you and filled it with water from the tap.

He leaned back against the island where you were standing and raised the glass to his lips. Adam’s apple bobbing with each gulp. The colors of the flower on his right hand were highlighted as his long fingers wrapped around the glass. Your mind started to drift and you couldn’t help but wonder what that hand might feel like wrapped around your throat.

“Enjoying the view?” He asks.

The sound of his voice snapped you out of your thoughts. You’d been caught and felt a blush start to creep across your face.

Your eyes flicker to his and he smirks at you in amusement before downing the last of the water. The smell of sweat mixed with his body wash filled your nose as he reached around you to place the empty glass in the sink. You could feel the heat radiate off his sun kissed skin.

His face came dangerously close to yours, eyes never breaking contact. You roll your eyes and he sends you a playful wink before making his way out of the kitchen and toward the stairs, presumably up to his room to shower.

You stood there for a moment trying to process what had just happened before you were startled by the sound of the microwave over the stove. With a sigh you retrieved your food and retreated back upstairs to continue working.

As you returned to your studio, the encounter with Jesse in the kitchen replayed in your mind like a scene from a movie. His casual remark about enjoying the view left you flustered, but you couldn’t deny the thrill it sent through you. Jesse had always had a playful, teasing side, but lately, it seemed his interactions with you held a subtle undercurrent that made your heart race.

Back at your desk, you tried to refocus on your work, but your thoughts kept drifting. You found yourself glancing at the doorway, half-expecting Jesse to reappear, yet knowing he was likely downstairs working in his studio by now. The memory of his closeness, the scent of his sweat mixed with the faint trace of his cologne lingered in your memory.

The afternoon sun cast warm hues through the window, illuminating the room in a comforting glow. You tried to lose yourself in editing photos, tweaking colors and compositions, anything to distract you. But every now and then, your mind would wander back to his question from a few days earlier. The one about possibilities unexplored, about more than just the routine of work and friendship.

Hours passed in a blur. The sun dipped lower in the sky, casting long shadows across the room. You glanced at the clock and realized it was nearly time for dinner. With a sigh, you saved your work, shut down your computer, and stretched out your stiff limbs.

In the kitchen, you found Noah already cooking up something, dancing and singing to a song that blasted from the bluetooth speaker on the island. He greeted you with a grin and a teasing comment about being lost in your work again. You chuckled in response, helping him set the table as you exchanged small talk about the day.

Soon, Jesse sauntered in, dressed casually in a worn band tee and joggers. His hair was still a little damp from his earlier shower, curls slightly tamed, and he greeted you with a genuine smile.

You couldn’t help but notice the ease with which he moved around the kitchen, effortlessly sliding into conversations with Noah about the new songs they were working on.

Dinner passed in a haze of laughter and shared stories. It was just you, Jesse, and Noah since Michael was off spending the weekend with his girlfriend. The familiar banter and camaraderie among the three of you was comforting.

After dinner, you cleared the table together, rinsing dishes and stacking them in the dishwasher. Jesse volunteered to dry, and you handed him plates and glasses with a smile, trying to ignore the way your fingers brushed against each other’s.

As you finished up in the kitchen, Noah excused himself to take a call from Matt about one of the band’s upcoming studio sessions. Jesse leaned against the counter, watching you quietly with that thoughtful look that always made your heart skip a beat.

"So," he finally said, breaking the silence, "did you get much done today?"

You nodded, a nervous energy tingling in your fingertips. "Yeah, I made good progress. How about you? Productive day in the backyard this morning?"

Jesse chuckled, setting down the dish towel and stepping closer to you. "Yeah, it was alright. Hot as hell out there, though."

You laughed softly, feeling the proximity between you like a magnetic pull. "I can imagine."

He hesitated for a moment, his gaze dropping to the floor before lifting to meet yours again.

“Listen, about earlier... in the kitchen."

Your heart skipped a beat, anticipation and uncertainty swirling in your chest.

"Yeah?"

He took a deep breath, his expression earnest yet guarded.

"I just... I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable or anything. I was just teasing."

You shook your head, smiling softly.

"It’s okay, Jesse. I know."

There was a pause, his eyes searched yours, as if trying to decipher something hidden beneath the surface. You held your breath, waiting for him to say something more.

But before either of you could speak, the sound of footsteps echoed down the stairs, signaling Noah’s return. The moment shattered and Jesse stepped back, running a hand through his curls.

Noah announced he was headed out for the evening. He had to go to their friend Davis’ house to work on finalizing the designs for the next few merch drops and some visual ideas for the band’s upcoming tour.

With Noah's departure, the house suddenly felt quieter. You and Jesse exchanged a glance, a flicker of something unspoken passing between you before you turned back to finish drying the last few dishes.

"I should probably go and finish up the track I’m working on," Jesse finally broke the silence, his tone casual but his eyes lingering on you.

"Yeah, I've got a few things to wrap up myself," you replied, trying to keep your voice steady despite the nerves dancing in your stomach.

As you moved toward the stairs, a sudden loud rumble of thunder startled you. You glanced out the window to see dark clouds rolling in, blotting out the remnants of daylight. The distant flash of lightning illuminated the room, casting eerie shadows across the walls.

"Looks like we're in for a storm," Jesse remarked, his voice low.

"Yeah, seems like it," you agreed, feeling the tension in the air thicken with the impending storm.

You retreated to your studio upstairs while Jesse headed to the garage. The sound of rain started as a soft patter against the window, gradually building into a steady downpour. You tried to focus on your work, the glow of your computer screen casting a faint light across the dim room.

Minutes turned into hours as the storm raged outside, the occasional flash of lightning and rumble of thunder punctuating the night. The power flickered once, twice, before finally plunging the house into darkness. The sudden quiet was almost deafening, the absence of the hum of appliances and electronics leaving you acutely aware of the sound of your own breathing.

You sat back in your chair, momentarily stunned by the abrupt darkness. You reached for your phone, activating its flashlight to navigate your way downstairs.

As you made your way downstairs the light from your phone cast eerie shadows against the record plaques and framed tour posters hung along the wall. The power outage seemed to have affected the entire neighborhood, plunging everything on the block into darkness.

Navigating carefully through the hallway, you headed towards the kitchen where you knew there were candles stored for situations like this. As you rounded the corner, you nearly collided with Jesse, who seemed to be on the same mission.

"Shit! Sorry!" he exclaimed, steadying you with a gentle hand on your arm. "Didn't mean to scare you."

"It's okay," you replied, heart still racing from the unexpected encounter. "Just looking for some candles."

"Yeah, same here," Jesse said, his voice low. "I think they're in one of these..."

Together, you searched through various drawers, finally locating a cabinet of miscellaneous colored and scented candles. He lit a few and placed them strategically around the kitchen, casting a soft, flickering light that danced across his features.

You struggled to reach where the emergency lantern sat on the top shelf in the kitchen cabinet and had to resort to climbing up on the counter to grab it. You felt a hand ghost your lower back steading your movements as you lowered yourself to a sitting position on the counter top, legs dangling over the side. You handed the lantern off to Jesse.

"Thanks," you murmured, he lit the lantern and set it beside you on the counter.

“No problem,” he replied, voice husky in the quiet room.

The warm glow illuminated his features, making his eyes sparkle with a mixture of amusement and something deeper. He moved closer and stood between your legs, hands resting against the counter on either side of where you sat, his gaze locking with yours. His eyes scanned your face looking for a sign to stop as he leaned closer. The air between you crackled, the charged atmosphere inside mirroring that of the storm outside.

Your noses brushed against each other, breath intermingling for a moment before the remaining distance between you vanished. The kiss was tentative at first, a soft exploration of lips meeting in the dim candlelight. But as the moment stretched, the intensity between you grew, fueled by the proximity and the emotions that had been simmering beneath the surface for so long.

His lips were warm against yours, a contrast to the cool touch of his fingers on your skin. The kiss deepened, becoming more urgent, both of you had been waiting for the moment, this acknowledgment of the desire that had been building between you.

Time seemed to stand still in that moment, the storm outside forgotten as you melted into each other's embrace. One of his hands ran up your arm and rested against the side of your neck as the other slid around your waist, pulling you closer until there was no space left between your bodies. Your hands found their way into his mess of curls. The scent of his aftershave mingled with the subtle aroma of wax and rain, the mixture of smells enveloping you both.

When you finally broke apart, breathless and flushed, Jesse rested his forehead against yours, his fingers tracing gentle patterns on the exposed skin of your thigh. The silence around you was profound, broken only by the soft crackle of the candles and the distant rumble of thunder.

His eyes darkened as a flash of lightning illuminated his face through the window. His lips connected with yours once more and he lifted you from the counter, your legs wrapping around his waist as he carried you toward the couch in the adjoining living room.

You sat straddling his lap as his hands found their way under your shirt. You lifted your arms and the article was quickly cast aside. His own shirt soon followed. You ran your hands over the tattoos of the chieftess and eagle across his chest and the roaring tiger that covered his stomach. His arm snaked around your back and unhooked the clasp of your bra before throwing the article on the floor.

He rolled you off his lap and positioned you so you were now laying down on the couch. He crawled between your legs and hooked his fingers under the waistband of your shorts. You lifted your hips, allowing him to slide them off along with your underwear.

He stood up and discarded his joggers and briefs before settling back down between your legs. Your hands shot up and covered your face realizing how exposed you now were.

He reached up and softly grabbed your hands and pulled them away from your face.

“Don’t you ever try to hide from me, Darlin.” he said, planting kisses along the backs of each before placing them above your head, securing them in place with his left hand. “I want to see that pretty face as I watch you come undone.”

He planted another tender kiss upon your lips and watched you react as he ghosted his fingers over your core.

You let out a shaky breath as he gently slipped a finger inside and fell into a steady rhythm before adding another. You struggled against his grip as his thumb rubbed against your clit. His movements never stopped even as he started planting kisses across your throat and chest.

He took one of your breasts in his mouth. Your head snapped back against the pillow behind you at the added sensation when he bit the sensitive bud of your nipple before soothing the pain with the pad of his tongue.

With each move his eyes looked up at you, watching as your face contorted with pleasure, letting out shaky breaths and moans from the stimulation. He left a trail of wet kisses down your stomach and he released your hands as he kissed your inner thigh.

“Oh, Fuck!” You gasped, hands quickly finding their way into his curls as his tongue flicked over your clit before biting and sucking on the bundle of nerves.

The pleasure in your voice made his dick twitch and flipped a switch in him. He devoured you like a starved man and it drove you over the edge. You felt the familiar feeling of an orgasm build and tighten like a knot in your stomach. You tried to move your hips to match his movement but he firmly held you in place, leaving you writhing under his grasp.

“Jesse” you whined.

His name sounded like a prayer on your lips as you grew closer to your climax, and he was there to worship you with his whole being. The knot snapped and your hands tightened their grip through his now tangled curls. But he didn’t stop, continuing his physical praises as the orgasm washed over you like a flood.

You let out a whimper from the absence as he made his way back up your body and planted another searing kiss against your lips.You wrapped your arms around his neck pulling him deeper into the kiss.

“Fuck, this is better than I dreamed.” he said with a sigh before kissing you again.

He pulled back, letting out a gasp as he felt your hand reach down between the two of you and grab hold of his cock. You watched as he shut his eyes and let out a shaky breath as your thumb swiped away a bead of precum from the tip. His breathing became sporadic as you worked your way over the sensitive member.

He had enough of your teasing. You gripped his arms, nail leaving indentations against the tattooed skin as he gently slid the head into your entrance, pausing for a moment to allow you to adjust before sinking the rest of the way. He wrapped your legs around his hips and pressed his forehead against yours, eyes locked, as he thrusts faster, harder, deeper.

You moved your hips to match his thrusts as you both chased your highs together. Your eyes flutter closed as you feel that familiar pressure begin to build once more.

“Look at me, darlin,” he commanded. “Look at me when I’m fucking you.”

Your eyes snap back open, his words making your eyes almost roll back in added pleasure. His pupils were blown with ecstasy making his light brown eyes almost appear black in the candlelight. He picks up his pace with a grunt. You pull him close, wrapping your arms around his middle, snaking a hand up through his hair, giving a gentle tug as his hips snap into you.

“Fuck, Jess.” you cry. “I’m so close…”

“Doing so good for me, darlin.” he praises through gritted teeth.

You moan against his mouth as he slots his lips against yours in another deep kiss.

White flashes line the edges of your vision as you cry out in pleasure. Jesse buries his face in your neck as he fucks you through your orgasm, his breath shaking as chases his own not long after.

As your breathing finally returns to normal, he stands up and pads over to the kitchen, taking his added warmth with him. The cool air in the house washes over you despite the storm also knocking out the A/C. He returns a moment later with a clean damp washcloth for the both of you.

He disappears upstairs for a moment before returning dressed in a pair of his briefs like how he usually sleeps with a folded up white t-shirt in his hand.

He motions for you to raise your arm and slips the oversized shirt over your head. It's his favorite shirt with a map of Alabama record stores on the front.

“Damn, you look good in my shirt.” he states, pulling you up from the couch and kissing your forehead. You wrap your arms around his middle as he holds you close.

A mischievous smile then slides across his face. He bends down and wraps his arms around your thighs, throwing you over his shoulder.

“Goddammit, Jesse!” you exclaim, hitting his lower back with your fists.

His hand smacked your bare ass peeking out from under the shirt as he carried you up the stairs and into his room. He threw you onto his unmade bed before climbing on after you, pullig you flush against him, and tossing the discarded comforter over your bodies.

He wrapped his arms around you and nuzzled his face into your hair. You happily laid like this for a few moments, both of your energy spent from the activities downstairs.

“Hey, Jess?” you ask.

“Hmm?” he replies, voice muffled by his face pressed against your neck.

“You ever wonder if there’s more out there?” You ask, referring back to your unfinished conversation from the other night.

You felt him smile.

“I used to.” He replied.

“What changed?” You asked, turning now to face him.

“I met you.” He replied simply, before pulling him toward you and wrapping his arms around you.

You rested your head against his chest and snuggled into him further.

He continued, “Everything I need is right here.”

You lay like this wrapped up in each other’s embrace for the next hour or so before the lull of the moment is broken by the sound of the front door and Noah’s familiar voice breaking through the silence after he stumbles upon the pieces of clothing you had left behind.

“I fucking knew it!”

#author: thatchickwiththecamera #jesse cash #erra #erra band #jesse cash fanfiction #jesse cash x reader #jesse cash smut #jesse cash fanfic #jesse cash one shot #jesse cash oneshot

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rainbowmoonstonestories · 16 days ago

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Let Your Dreams Be Your Wings | Chapter 23

Chapters: 23/? Fandom: The Sandman (Netflix 2022, minor content from the Comics) Rating: Explicit Relationships Dream of the Endless/Morpheus x F!Reader Characters: Dream of the Endless/Morpheus, Lucienne, Matthew the Raven, Mervyn Pumpkinhead, Hob Gadling, Death, Rose Walker, The Corinthian, other minor Sandman characters, Original Characters. Warnings: 18+ content (minors DNI), explicit sexual content, POV switching, very long chapters to read. Summary: You always dreamed of becoming a successful Fashion Designer, sharing your creations with the world and making your father proud. But with him being very ill and so many costs solely weighting on your shoulders, things didn’t go as planned and you had to take a different path instead. An interesting offer led you to the elder Alex Burgess and you were hired as a new housemaid for a very good pay. However, your kindness and outstanding empathy convinced the man to give you an additional task for a doubled compensation; gaining the trust of Dream Of the Endless, held captive into the basement for over a century. Despite the shock of finding such an ethereal entity stripped of all his clothes and contained into a confined space, you had to accept for the sake of your father. But the more you got to speak to the mysterious anthropomorphic personification who didn’t utter a single word, the more you were lost into his eyes that, conversely, seemed to contain the entire universe. A deep connection formed between the two of you, separated only by a thick layer of glass.

Little did you know, what started like a simple housemaid job was about to change your life forever.

Credits: The moon dividers were made by firefly-graphics

Tagging: @number-0-iz, @emarich7, @jaziona92, @bridkesby If anyone else wants to be tagged in the next updates, let me know.

You can also read this on AO3 if you feel more comfortable!

As your physical illness persisted, Morpheus's absence from both your dreams and waking life only intensified your distress. Your biggest fear transformed into reality, with even more revelations coming to the surface.

Author's note: I had hoped to finish this chapter before the holidays, but I found myself unable to due to multiple reasons.

I suggest having tissues ready, as this update is quite emotional. While everything will be explained and resolved soon enough, this particular event, though heartbreaking, is necessary. Please bear with me! You'll learn more about the Reader and her "situation" as new details unfold, too.

Also, like I previously mentioned, I'm currently rewriting the old chapters to improve their quality and align them with my current writing style. It may take me a while.

The Dreaming felt strangely eerie and lacked its usual brightness, with rain pouring down as heavily as it had when Morpheus was exiled, sealed away from his realm and unable to control it.

It was disturbing and unnatural. With Morpheus missing for days and a mysterious illness causing your emotions to fluctuate wildly, a growing sense of unease consumed your thoughts day after day.

Although your new creative work assignment provided a much-needed distraction, you couldn't shake the gnawing fear churning in your stomach for multiple reasons. While Ella bounced around the office, checking social media and celebrating each new product request and purchase notification with impromptu dance moves, you felt completely disconnected from the office's upbeat atmosphere.

Upon receiving an invitation to model for Corbyn&Jones' latest jewelry collection, her infectious enthusiasm compelled acceptance. Through professional makeup artistry and a proper smile, you were confident in your ability to present a polished appearance despite your fatigue.

While the campaign achieved significant market success and engagement, you found yourself experiencing an unexpected sense of detachment from the accomplishment. Despite recognizing the need to schedule a consultation with Doctor Mills, you continued to postpone the appointment, using professional commitments as justification for the delay.

In truth, you were simply afraid to confront your deepest worries becoming reality.

"I don't want to alarm you, but if you experience stomach problems that last longer than five days, you should let me know right away,” he had warned you during a visit. “With your family history, we can't be too careful."

While your symptoms weren't as severe as your father's had been, the combination of eating difficulties, persistent nausea, and constant exhaustion was deeply concerning. The Dreamstone adorning your neck was intended to provide protection, but you questioned whether its safeguarding properties extended only to external forces, leaving you vulnerable to whatever internal affliction might be manifesting.

You needed Morpheus as much as you needed air to breathe, yet for some reason, he had never felt so far away.

You tried to rationalize his absence, telling yourself it wasn't serious. After all, Dream of the Endless was a powerful being who bore the weight of everyone's wellbeing on his shoulders. Though you longed to have him by your side, you understood his duties took precedence over everything else—perhaps even over his love for you.

You did the best you could to maintain a positive outlook, yet an undeniable sense of foreboding permeated your consciousness. The sensation came both physically and psychologically, particularly evident in the unsettling echoes that resonated through the forested landscapes of your dreams.

The Dreaming lay in turmoil, its mysterious affliction baffling you.

One night, you stood in a vast, barren field beneath a sky that was neither day nor night, just a faint, muted gray. The air hung stifling and oppressive, carrying only a dark silence broken by distant echoes that sounded like a mournful lament. When you turned toward the sound, the horizon stretched endlessly before you, offering no hint of its source.

Around you, the Dreaming existed in fragments and disrepair. The once-vivid flora had withered to mere shadows, while familiar places—your favorite glade and the garden where you and Morpheus had walked—flickered like dying embers, fading in and out of existence. Though you heard the distant sound of hooves, as if Astra were trying to reach you, the creature stayed hidden from view.

A faint light pierced the gloom like a dying star. You felt drawn to it, a tiny spark of hope against the crushing darkness. With trembling fingers outstretched, you whispered into the void: "Morpheus, please come to me!"

But no answer came. The dream dissolved completely, leaving you to wake in your bed with stinging eyes and a hollowness gnawing inside, the echo of your voice calling his name still lingering in the air.

What in the world was going on?

The library was still, its vast expanse of bookshelves and rolling ladders bathed in soft, melancholic light. At her desk, Lucienne meticulously cataloged a newly arrived tome, her brow furrowed with concern as she reflected of the realm's troubled state.

Outside, a haunting symphony of rain and thunder filled the air. The Dreaming had grown restless, its usual vibrancy dulled and its stability wavering.

The silence shattered as Matthew swooped in, his wings beating frantically and his demeanor uncharacteristically tense. He perched on the edge of Lucienne's desk, shifting nervously before fixing her with concern.

“So, uuhh” he began, his voice low and insistent. “Do you know what’s going on with the boss? He’s been quite... off.”

Lucienne paused, her quill hovering mid-air. “Off?”

"Yeah, you know—gloomy, silent. More than usual," Matthew elaborated. "I mean, he's not exactly Mr. Sunshine on a good day, but this? This is different. Stuff's weird and unstable, like it's feeding off his bad mood.”

Lucienne sighed deeply, setting her quill down. "I've noticed. Lord Morpheus has been unusually withdrawn. He either sends me back to the library or deliberately changes the subject whenever I try to speak with him."

Matthew ruffled his feathers, hopping closer. “Yeah, well, that’s not helping anyone. The Dreaming’s a mess, again. There are storms brewing in places that were peaceful a week ago. Some areas are just... disappearing, like they don’t know whether they should exist or not. And that howling? Yeah, Not creepy at all..."

Lucienne’s eyes darkened, the lines of her face deepening. “The howling...” she murmured. “It’s grief. Pain. And it seems to be coming from him, though he would never admit it.”

Matthew tilted his head. “But why? For what? Did something happen?”

“I suspect it may have something to do with her,” she said, choosing her words carefully.

“Her? You mean Y/N?”

“He hasn’t mentioned her name, but I’ve seen the signs. His avoidance, the strain in his bearing… she hasn't been seen around here at all lately."

Matthew let out a low whistle. “Man, the boss sure knows how to complicate things. So, what do we do? Just let him stew in his misery? If they've had a fight, they'll likely kiss and make up later. I mean, couples go through rough patches all the time.”

Lucienne adjusted her glasses, her expression growing grave. "I don't know. I sense this has to do with something else, something far more troubling."

Matthew tilted his head thoughtfully. “Troubling how?”

"I've yet to determine the cause. Perhaps you could prove useful," Lucienne suggested.

"Wait, me?"

“You have a way of getting through to him,” she said with a faint smile. “You’re blunt, unorthodox. You can say what I cannot.”

Matthew flapped his wings, exhaling a resigned sigh. “Great. No pressure, huh? Alright, I’ll give it a shot. But if he turns me into a puff of smoke, it’s on you.”

Lucienne’s expression softened, a flicker of gratitude in her eyes. “Thank you, Matthew."

As the raven disappeared into the shadows, caught between determination and dread, Lucienne sank back in her chair with a weary sigh. She could only hope that whatever darkness had seized their lord wasn't beyond the comfort of those who cherished him.

Throughout her extensive tenure as Morpheus’ librarian, she had never observed him in such a deep state of distress. She had been witness to countless moments across the spectrum of his experiences, from triumph to tribulation. The good, the bad, and yes, the utterly dramatic.

However, this situation was unprecedented in its severity and implications. Neither they nor Morpheus himself could grasp just how complex it truly was.

Morpheus sat on his throne, rigid and unmoving, his eyes locked intently on the Book of Paradoxes in his lap. The black leather tome caught the faint light, its obsidian and gold letters writhing across the pages as if alive. His fingers rested motionless on its surface as his mind wandered through a maze of thoughts. He had been consulting the book incessantly, hoping for a new interpretation that never emerged. No matter how the words shifted and molded themselves, their significance remained unchanged.

Avoiding your presence in his realm at night and ignoring your calls was the most excruciating act Morpheus had ever undertaken. His actions were driven solely by a desire to ensure your safety, though he meticulously examined the book's cryptic passages in search of alternative solutions that might alter the predicted course of events.

As time progressed, the possibility of a positive outcome grew increasingly remote, challenging what little hope he had left.

Matthew silently flew in, landing on the throne's armrest. He shuffled his wings, watching nervously as the Dream Lord closed the book and tucked it away. Morpheus appeared silent, offering no acknowledgment of the raven's arrival.

“Uh, hey, boss,” Matthew began, his tone hushed. “You’ve been in here for a while. Just thought I’d check in, y’know? See how you’re holding up.”

Morpheus was as still as marble, his darkened eyes wandering on some distant point, as though the raven's words drifted past him like echoes in darkness.

Matthew cleared his throat and continued. “So... Lucienne’s been worried. And, uh, not to snitch or anything, but the Dreaming’s been acting kinda weird too. You don’t exactly look like you’re winning ‘Most Cheerful Dream Lord of the Year,’ either.”

Morpheus’ fingers idly traced the throne's armrests with a touch both reverent and laden with frustration.

Matthew tentatively shifted closer. “Alright, look. I know something’s eating at you. Is it... her? Did you two have a fight or something?”

At the mention of you, Morpheus' hands froze. His head turned slightly, eyes narrowing just enough to reveal he had been listening all along. “I have not quarreled with her,” he said finally, his voice low and clipped.

“You didn’t? Well, that’s good I suppose,” Matthew replied hastily. "You see, Lucienne's been wondering why Y/N hasn't visited the castle these days. We were thinking that maybe—"

“Matthew,” he interrupted. “You will refrain from speaking of her.”

Matthew flinched but held firm, maintaining his position beside the Dream Lord's arm. “Boss, I’m just trying to help here. I mean, this isn’t like you. Even for you. If nothing's wrong between you two, then what is happening here?"

Morpheus rose from his throne with fluid grace, his towering form casting a shadow over the raven. His movements were deliberate and restrained, as if containing a tempest within.

“You presume much,” he said, his deep voice edged with frost. “The matters of my heart are mine alone to bear. And the Dreaming is my responsibility, not yours.” He exhaled a slow, deep breath that resonated with his inner torment. “There are matters that cannot be ignored.”

Matthew cocked his head, his curiosity piqued. “Matters, huh? Are you talking about that book you were reading just now?”

Morpheus' jaw tightened at the question, but he didn’t answer.

“Look, I’m not trying to stick my beak where it doesn’t belong. But whatever’s going on, you’re not exactly handling it great. The Dreaming’s feeling it, and so are the ones who care about you.”

Morpheus's expression flickered, a glimpse of guilt crossing his features momentarily. "That is not your concern," he stated sternly.

“Not my concern?” Matthew repeated, flapping his wings in agitation. “Boss, come on! You think she’s not gonna notice something’s wrong? You think Lucienne and I aren’t gonna notice? You’re shutting everyone out, and it’s not working.”

The Endless’ eyes closed briefly, as if shielding himself from the raven's words. Once more, his tone sliced through the mounting disquiet like a blade of ice. “Leave it, Matthew.”

Torn between pressing further and respecting the Dream Lord's boundaries, the raven huffed, lowering his head with a defeated slump of his shoulders. “Alright, fine,” he muttered. “But for what it’s worth, boss, you’re not doing her—or yourself—any favors by staying in here and brooding. Just think about that, okay?”

Morpheus's gaze drifted into the distance as Matthew departed, the fluttering of his wings echoing softly through the vast emptiness of the throne room, leaving behind a weight of unspoken truths and unresolved pain.

Your throat burned as you hunched over the toilet, retching up what little dinner you'd managed to eat again. The nausea had grown more persistent, becoming so severe that you struggled to hide your condition even at work. With your shortened shifts and frequent naps during quiet moments at the studio, Ella assumed your body was breaking down from physical and mental exhaustion—a result of your Florida trip and the heavy workload you'd taken on without pause.

Out of guilt, she suggested taking a few days off to recover, but you promptly refused. Having too much downtime would only let your mind wander to uncomfortable thoughts, exacerbating symptoms and impeding your ability to cope effectively.

Multiple times you'd started to reach out to Doctor Mills, drafting emails you never sent and almost calling but finding yourself unable to follow through. Keeping busy with your demanding work schedule meant you could focus on surviving each day without falling into the cycle of anxiety and overthinking.

Making matters more difficult, Morpheus had vanished entirely from both your dreams and waking life. The abandonment stung as deeply as any mortal lover's silent withdrawal, and the Dreaming's deteriorating state only amplified your growing distress.

After the bout of vomiting subsided, you splashed cold water on your face and trudged back to bed. The nausea had barely let up, and an odd pressure weighed heavily in your stomach. Your abdomen had become noticeably distended recently, and it was clear that prolonging this for another week would be inadvisable. The situation warranted a proper medical evaluation, and you resolved to schedule an appointment with your healthcare provider sooner rather than later.

Perhaps it was nothing, just a food intolerance acting up, or a particularly nasty virus that had weakened your immune system. Or more likely it was simply your body's response to mounting stress, a combination of your grueling workdays and Morpheus' unexplained silence.

The symptoms fluctuated in intensity, ranging from mild discomfort to severe episodes that necessitated immediate trips to the bathroom. In those brief intervals of physical relief when eating and resting became manageable, your mind would invariably wander to other pressing concerns.

Morpheus had consistently demonstrated the depth and sincerity of his affection. His declarations of love were always accompanied by meaningful actions, from welcoming you into his realm to crafting extraordinary gifts that showcased his devotion. His sudden withdrawal seemed entirely incongruous with his character, and considering the negative conditions within the Dreaming, it wasn’t difficult to understand that a matter of significant importance demanded his attention.

Still, you wished he would communicate openly about his troubles, even if you couldn't directly assist with the situation. At minimum, you wanted to offer emotional support and help lighten his burden as you had during the Vortex crisis.

Perhaps this time, Morpheus was deliberately keeping you at a distance, all for your own protection. At the very least, even a short word would have been welcome.

"So," Matthew said, clicking his beak. "What's the plan?"

"I don't know," Lucienne said. "Whatever is troubling Lord Morpheus, it must be something deeply personal for him to maintain such silence."

"Yes, but how much longer will he shut himself away?"

"I cannot say. After all, this is Lord Morpheus we speak of."

The Dreaming's sky had taken on an unsettling shade of gray, neither the soft twilight of contentment nor the ominous darkness of unrest. The realm's usual rhythm was disrupted, driving even Mervyn the Pumpkinhead up the metaphorical wall.

With a huff, he stomped his way to the library, his boots thundering against the marble floor while his carved pumpkin face twisted into a permanent scowl. He shoved the library doors open with excessive force, sending echoes through the vast expanse of shelves.

Lucienne looked up from her desk, maintaining her calm professionalism as her eyebrows arched slightly at Mervyn's dramatic entrance. “Ah, Mervyn. What brings you here?”

“What brings me here?” he repeated, throwing his arms up in exasperation. "Lemme tell ya what brings me here. The Dreaming's gone completely bonkers for days now. DAYS! The sky's throwin' a temper tantrum, can't make up its mind whether to drizzle, shine, or go full tornado on us. And the ground? It's wobblier than a drunk gargoyle on rollerskates! But here's the real kicker; them trees have lost their marbles completely. One of the wise guys actually tried to snatch my rake this mornin'! Can you believe the nerve?"

Lucienne’s lips twitched in amusement. “The realm is reflective of the Dream Lord’s current emotional state.”

“Yeah, no kidding,” Mervyn grumbled, crossing his arms. "Now we're all stuck in this screwy limbo situation here. Look, I ain't dense - he got troubles up to his eyeballs. But for cryin' out loud, the rest of us are tryin' to do our jobs in this mess! Can you go knock some sense into him or somethin'?"

Lucienne straightened in her chair, her expression thoughtful. “The Dream Lord has much to contemplate, Mervyn. Matters of great importance weigh heavily on his mind.”

"Heh, not that I haven't tried already," Matthew interjected.

Mervyn rolled his empty eyes. "Can't his lordship deal with it without makin' the whole joint go haywire? I swear, I'm this close to hangin' up my rake and startin' a nice, normal garden topside. Least there I won't have to deal with plants that think they're critics!"

Lucienne stifled a chuckle. “You must remember that the Dreaming and its ruler are intrinsically linked. His moods influence the realm just as the realm influences him.”

"Sheesh, ain't it obvious? What's got his royal nibs all twisted up like a pretzel, anyway? Another one of them Endless family squabbles? Or maybe some mortal mess he's got himself tangled in?"

"I am not certain," she replied.

"Whatever. This whole mess needs fixin', and pronto."

While reviewing the Dreaming record, Lucienne paused mid-nod as something significant caught her attention. Her eyes widened as she studied the page intently, adjusting her spectacles as she stood to examine the text more closely.

"Uh, Lucienne? Everything okay over there?"

Lucienne glanced between Matthew and Mervyn with a grave expression before returning her attention to the volume. “Oh dear.”

"Aw geez, what's got ya spooked now, Luce?"

“I wonder if this is part of the reason,” she murmured.

Matthew hopped closer. "Mind filling us in?"

"A new heartbeat has appeared in the Dreaming," she explained. "It has just been added to the records."

"A new what?"

"Eh? Some kinda fresh face round these parts?"

Lucienne's expression grew solemn as she carefully considered her response. "Not exactly."

"Now you really got me on the edge of my perch here," Matthew quipped.

Lucienne folded her hands on the desk as she sat again. "A new heartbeat signifies the creation of life, fresh energy stirring within the Dreaming."

"Okay. So who's the mystery guest showing up?"

"Not a guest," she clarified. "A newly formed being. One that, as it happens, is directly connected to Y/N."

Mervyn's eye sockets expanded dramatically, his carved expression showing comical astonishment.

Matthew, for his part, stared blankly, still oblivious to the revelation's significance. "You lost me here. What's this gotta do with Y/N?"

Lucienne exchanged a knowing glance with Mervyn before addressing Matthew's query with a soft smile.

The janitor shifted his weight, placing his gloved hands on his bony hips and turning his pumpkin head toward the raven with mild exasperation. "Hey, Luce. Do you want me to spell it out for birdie over here, or should you do the honors?"

The environment around you was bathed in varying shades of purple, from soft lilac to deep violet, creating an ethereal cosmic display. Countless stars and miniature galaxies performed an elegant celestial dance, while a gentle breeze caressed your hair as you ventured forward.

This sanctuary provided a stark contrast to the declining condition of the Dreaming you had grown accustomed to witnessing these recent nights. Though your perception remained slightly hazy, your consciousness sharpened upon detecting a recognizable silhouette in the distance.

Morpheus stood motionless in the purple mist, his commanding presence unmistakable as his dark hair swayed gently in the wind. A wave of relief flooded through you at the sight of him, and you quickened your pace, unable to suppress the smile that spread across your features.

"I've been so worried about you," you breathed, halting in front of him.

As you embraced him, gently kissing his cheek, you noticed an immediate change in his mannerisms. Morpheus remained unresponsive, his arms still at his sides, his entire form becoming rigid and distant.

Stepping back to examine his countenance, you observed the evident tension in his epression as your hands moved from his shoulders to rest against his chest. "Morpheus? What's wrong?"

His eyes flicked down to the starlit ground, shimmering faintly, before meeting yours again with unsettling gravitas.

“We must end this.”

His words seemed to fade into the horizon, becoming nearly imperceptible. Time appeared to pause as your mind struggled to process the weight of his statement.

"End what?" you whispered, your smile fading.

Morpheus swallowed heavily, his lips twitching. "Our... entanglement. It must cease."

You regarded the Lord of Dreams with an unwavering gaze, your expression becoming neutral. His words seemed to shatter the very foundations of your world, the impact reverberating through your being like breaking glass.

"What…?"

“Y/N… I am sorry.”

"I don't understand," you said, your voice turning to ice. "Are you actually ending our relationship?"

Your fingers slipped from his coat, falling limply like dead weight.

"You cannot be with me," he continued. "I will not make the same mistake again."

An incredulous chuckle escaped you, your head shaking as if to erase his declaration. "Wait, this makes no sense to me. We've been through this conversation before."

"It is not merely about fear. What I have discovered, what I now know... it is something I simply cannot allow to happen."

"And what is supposed to happen?" Your voice cut like a knife, yet beneath its sharpness trembled unmistakable pain.

"Y/N, if I remain by your side, your future will be destroyed."

"Says who?" you demanded.

“No matter.”

"Yes, Morpheus, it absolutely matters. I deserve an explanation."

He faltered, his eyes reddening as he blinked rapidly. "Such a fate has been foretold in the Book of Paradoxes, a tome as old as existence itself."

“Hold on, a book?”

You wrapped your arms around yourself protectively, shrinking inward. "So you're breaking up with me because of a book?"

"This is far more than mere words on paper. It is an ancient prophecy, a mystical artifact whose power and purpose transcends even my understanding."

You gave a sardonic nod, pressing your lips together in a bitter smile. "Ah, I see. So you're simply accepting this fate? You won't even let me make my own choice?"

"Not if it means every moment you spend in my presence brings you one step closer to your own destruction."

"Destruction? Morpheus, this is absurd. We've been together for months now, and all I've seen in my life is growth."

"I will not allow another tragedy like Nada to unfold. The burden of what I’ve done... it weighs heavily upon me still."

Your lower lip trembled, but you stood firm. "I am not Nada."

"No, but my duties as Dream of the Endless must come first. The price we would both pay is far too steep."

"In other words, I am a distraction you can't permit yourself to have."

"That is not what I mean. You must understand."

“Well, I don’t.”

Your respiration quickened as an acute sensation of emotional distress surfaced, perceptible even within the confines of the dreamscape.

"There must be something we can do. Instead of pushing me away, let me help you find a solution."

"This is not something within your power to alter. Despite your remarkable strength, your mortal nature remains an inescapable truth."

"Ah, of course. Let's resort to the 'you're just a mortal' excuse."

Morpheus bowed his head, his face pained, yet stood firm despite your earnest protestations.

"I am doing this to keep you safe, to give you a chance at the life you deserve. Even if you cannot accept it now."

"Oh, that's bullshit, Morpheus!"

Your voice reverberated through the space, bouncing off the floating cosmos.

"Why won't you give me any credit? Instead of acting rashly over something you admit you don't fully understand, you could trust in me—in us. We could do this together as partners, seek help. Stop shouldering everything alone."

"It is precisely because we do not understand its nature that I cannot risk having you near it."

You scoffed. "Oh, because that wretched book is going to devour me whole the moment I touch it, right?"

"This is not a matter of levity," he stated, his gravelly voice carrying unmistakable sternness.

"What am I supposed to say? That I should just quietly accept this without question? Being like 'Oh sure, I love you, but it's perfectly fine to pretend you never existed and go back to my normal life in the Waking World. See you never'?"

A solitary tear escaped, tracing a path down your cheek.

"Tell me, was it all a lie? Everything you did for me, everything you told me, your feelings for me... was any of it real?"

Morpheus stepped forward. "All of it was real. It remains so."

"Then reconsider," you pleaded. "Don't do this to us. Don't throw everything away over a prophecy."

"My love... know that I shall not stop my search for answers. But what lies ahead may prove far more dire than what we face now. This quest may take an indefinite amount of time. And that is not something I can ask you to sacrifice whilst you await my return."

More tears now flowed freely down your face as your composure crumbled, your breathing becoming increasingly ragged. "But this is my decision to make, Morpheus, not yours."

"I must forbid it. It is for your salvation. This is absolute."

You pressed your fingers to your temples, scanning the surroundings with increasing agitation as you ran your hand through your hair.

"This has to be a nightmare. It must be."

“Y/N—”

"No. None of this is happening, and you're not truly here."

“Y/N, listen to me.”

You shook your head vigorously, retreating as tremors wracked your frame. "I refuse. I need this to end."

With slow, measured motion, Morpheus extended his right hand, dissipating the cosmic panorama before you. The illusory galaxy dissolved to reveal the true scene beneath; a bleak forest stretching into the distance, its withered trees and parched grass crowned by an ominous, thunder-laden sky.

"Do you understand why the Dreaming appears this way?" He asked. "As it is an extension of my very being, every withered leaf, every raging tempest... it reflects the essence of what I am. What you see is but a reflection of the chaos that dwells within."

A shiver ran through you as lightning crashed overhead.

"I take no pleasure in this. But it must be done, nonetheless."

"That's according to you," you corrected bitterly. "It doesn't need to be this way."

"It goes beyond the boundaries of you and me. It surpasses my very identity," he declared with resonating finality. "If I must choose between our individual happiness, if sacrificing my love for you ensures your future remains intact, then I shall bear this burden."

A strangled cry escaped your lips. "How could you possibly think I would accept a future without you in it?!"

"I cannot ask you to keep your waking life on hold for my sake, Y/N. Not when I am uncertain if my return shall ever come to pass."

"So that's it? You're simply abandoning me?"

"I am protecting you," he asserted, his deep, resonant voice carrying both authority and melancholy.

Your exasperation mounted. “Protecting me from what??!?!”

"From any darkness my role as Dream King would inevitably cast upon your existence."

You released a choked, desperate laugh. "How could something as beautiful as you, as your realm, and as what you represent, possibly be destructive to my life??"

"That is something I do not wish to discover," he answered solemnly. "Y/N... you are truly extraordinary. Your radiant spirit illuminates the paths of those around you. Your creative mind shapes dreams with a brilliance that rivals my own. I cannot... I will not be the one to extinguish that flame."

You shook your head, again and again, in vehement denial. “Stop it.”

“Please—”

"No!" The words erupted from you in a piercing tone. "You made me a promise that you would never break my heart. You gave me your word."

Morpheus maintained an impassive expression, though beneath his carefully constructed facade, you sensed the anguish he sought to conceal.

"Yes, I did," he acknowledged with resignation. "I am truly sorry, Y/N,"

Raw emotions overwhelmed you—anger, disappointment, and a blinding sense of betrayal. Unable to contain your fury, you lurched forward and struck his chest repeatedly. Your fists pounded against him, yet he remained unmoved. He grasped your elbows with gentle restraint, softly speaking your name in an attempt to calm you.

“You promised!” You cried out. “You lied to me!”

Your strength gradually ebbed away, leaving you collapsed against him in uncontrollable sobs, your forehead resting against his collarbones. Your trembling fingers clutched the fabric of his coat as tears dampened his shirt.

“Please… don’t do this…” You sank to your knees before him, your hands still grasping desperately at his robes. “Don’t le…ave… m..e…”

"I cannot choose otherwise."

“Morpheus, pl..e..ase. Stay… with me….”

"The Dreaming will always be accessible to you. My castle doors shall remain open, that you may seek guidance with Lucienne among her tomes. Your journey of exploration, of learning, of dreaming... can continue unabated."

The material of his garment slipped from between your fingers as he withdrew, his black silhouette receding with each step.

“Goodbye, Y/N.”

A sharp inhalation escaped you as your head snapped upward, your eyes widening with despair. “Morpheus, wai—”

“This dream is over.”

You jolted awake, your breath lodged in your throat as your chest tightened agonizingly. Drenched in cold sweat, with your hair clinging to your skin and your stomach roiling violently, you stumbled out of bed and rushed to the bathroom.

The emotional toll of Morpheus's devastating abandonment had your body purging both the physical and psychological torment that ravaged you, retching and wailing as grief consumed every fiber of your being, mixing with your bile.

You hoped that he would appear to assure you it was nothing more than a cruel nightmare conjured by your subconscious mind. But all you could see was the toilet bowl as you clung to it helplessly, collapsing onto the floor while tears streamed down your face until the break of dawn.

Morpheus stared at the vacant space where your presence had been moments before. As your form dissipated into particles of light, his carefully maintained stoic mask finally shattered. Slowly, he descended to one knee, his hand instinctively clutching the fabric above his chest where an immortal heart bore mortal suffering. His tears fell hot and searing, corroding the soil around him like molten iron.

He was overcome by an unprecedented pain unlike anything he had ever known. Though his long existence had been marked by numerous losses that had rendered him reserved and guarded, your presence had transformed him, awakening emotions he thought forever dormant.

Never before had someone so earnestly beseeched him to stay and to love. Though he ached to hold you as you wept in front of him, Morpheus knew that even the slightest gesture toward you would have melted his resolve entirely.

Nevertheless, the heartbreak caused by his decision left an irreparable void within his eternal essence. And perhaps, the Dreaming itself would never be the same.

Daylight streamed through the window, illuminating your disheveled form on the bed, surrounded by disarrayed sheets. The dampness of your tear-soaked pillow pressed against your cheek as you lay paralyzed, eyes fixed vacantly on the curtains. In a state of dissociation, you found yourself incapable of stirring. The extended hours spent on the bathroom floor had left your body throbbing, while your eyes remained swollen and tearful.

Your phone vibrated on the nightstand, but you couldn’t summon the energy to check it. Time stretched endlessly as you lay there, until catching sight of the shell from your dreams triggered an uncontrollable urge to scream.

With a rapid spurt, you finally pushed yourself in a sitting position to retrieve it, its color and vividness turning bland. You shoved it into the drawer without thinking, slamming it shut to hide it from view.

Fresh tears rolled down your cheeks as you picked up your phone, unlocking the screen between shaky breaths. The display showed three missed calls and an unread text message, all from an anxious Ella. The clock indicated it was well past the start of the business day, meaning you were significantly late for work.

With a heavy exhale, you composed a brief response, informing her that your current state would prevent you from performing your professional duties for the foreseeable future. Since joining the Corbyn&Jones team, you had never taken a sick day unless absolutely necessary. You prided yourself on working diligently even when feeling unwell, always delivering exceptional results.

Now you were reduced to a complete wreck, barely able to stand long enough for unwanted trips to the bathroom. Perhaps some rest would help your body recover, but you doubted time could ever fully mend your emotional cracks.

Expressing relief, Ella responded with understanding. She granted you the necessary break to recuperate from your illness and exhaustion, apologizing profusely for the heavy workload. You committed to maintaining your responsibilities remotely when your condition permitted, though it made even basic mobility an impossible task to accomplish at the moment.

Despite believing you had no more tears to spill, new drops sprang to your eyes at the thought of Morpheus throughout the day. Although you understood his reasoning and concerns, you couldn't bring yourself to accept or forgive the choice he made. He had professed his devotion in countless ways, filling your dreams and waking days with magic. Could your relationship truly be as doomed as his with Nada? Were you fated to endure suffering and ruin, condemned to face divine retribution if your love had persisted?

The more you dwelt on the breakup, the more you wished to sink into an endless sleep, never to wake. From your current position, you began to resonate with Lyta's motives more than ever before, as if a part of your soul had been completely torn away.

The prospect of moving forward seemed insurmountable, given how deeply intertwined your life had become with his presence.

Later that evening, another incoming call notification displayed Hob's contact information. Your finger lingered over it to respond, but as a sudden burst of tears brought on uncontrollable hiccups, you let the call go unanswered.

He had already offered extensive assistance over the past couple of years. You felt reluctant to weigh him down with additional concerns or seek further help, as his long-standing friendship with Morpheus spanning several centuries could complicate matters even more.

And so, you resorted to ignoring his subsequent texts, compelling yourself to eat and shower until another night approached. The prospect of visiting the Dreaming filled you with dread, yet you couldn't completely abandon the possibility that Morpheus would reconsider his decision and propose a more viable resolution.

After all, hope dies last.

You traversed a solitary path through the darkness, each footstep emanating a soft luminescence that traced your journey across the desolate expanse. Barefoot, you moved silently through the gloom, the flowing white gown trailing gracefully across scattered leaves. You proceeded with purposeful steps through the unknown, drawn forward by an inexplicable force that beckoned your assistance.

Though conflicting emotions of confusion and despair bore upon your soul, each radiant step dispersed the encroaching shadows, suggesting an innate resilience to mend what had been fractured.

“ʸ/ₙ…”

A distorted yet familiar voice called out your name, though its origin was indistinct and elusive. You waited attentively, yet only silence permeated the air.

Then, once again, the voice returned, its presence growing clearer and more proximate.

"Y/N..."

"Who's there?" you called out, walking without pause, quickening your pace.

“Y/N!!”

Astra suddenly appeared from the blackness ahead, his posture unsteady and frail. His once shining fur was now dull and matted, his antlers brittle, his elegant frame emaciated as it revealed prominent bones beneath his skin. His eyes, once filled with starlight, had taken on an unsettling glassy, grey pallor that suggested possible blindness.

“What… Astra…?”

“Y/N… you’re here…”

His legs gave way, causing him to crumpled onto the ground."At last... I found you."

“Astra!”

Kneeling down, you cradled his face in your hands and gently lifted his heavy muzzle, resting his head in your lap. "What happened?!"

"It's Lord Morpheus," he whispered weakly. "The Dreaming is responding to what lies within him."

"How is this possible? Can't he simply stop it?"

"Ah, my dear... it is far more complicated than that."

Gently, your fingers traced along his cheek, beneath his eyes, and down the elegant line of his neck.

"His choice to leave you has left him wounded. The pain reverberates through the endless halls of dreams. Even through my essence."

"But why, Astra? I told him not to do this. I begged him."

"He wants your happiness and safety above all else. More than anything he has ever crafted, Perhaps even more than the realm itself."

You lifted him to your chest, cradling his upper body in your arms.

"In the end, you were the loveliest dream of all. To him, and to all who exist in the Dreaming."

You released a choked sob, swaying gently back and forth. "Why must he be so stubborn? My poor Astra... I'm so sorry."

A comforting warmth spread through your chest as you embraced your familiar, holding him protectively against you with unwavering care. "What will become of you…?"

"If this continues... everything I am, everything I ever was... could vanish forever."

"No!" you exclaimed in sheer terror. "Astra, please! You can’t leave me too!"

"I'm not going anywhere, Y/N. If anything, you're the one I wished would stay with me... just for a little while longer."

You instinctively held him more tightly, pressing your lips against the crown of his head in a protective gesture. Your warmth coursed through your limbs and down your spine, enveloping both of you in a bright sphere of golden light.

Unbeknownst to you, as your eyes remained closed, glowing threads flowed from your form, intricately weaving through the surrounding environment and seamlessly merging with Astra's being. The energy pulsated rhythmically, suffusing the familiar with restorative power that slowly reversed the deterioration. Astra's appearance transformed as vitality returned; his fur gaining an ethereal brilliance, his antlers casting majestic particles, and his eyes rekindling with crystalline stars.

The ambient light intensified in clarity, transmuting the surrounding darkness into an expansive, natural nocturnal splendor. Golden strands streamed outward from your body, interweaving with the fabric of the Dreaming itself, methodically restoring its deteriorated structure.

Astra gracefully rose from your embrace, regaining his posture before you. As you gazed upward, momentarily dazed by the spectacular display of light, you beheld his magnificent form fully rejuvenated, back to its former glory.

"Wait, what... I thought..."

"Y/N, I never knew you possessed such power. I am deeply grateful."

As he bowed, you blinked in dizziness. "Power? Astra, what do you mean?"

He tilted his head. "Wait, so you didn't do this intentionally?"

"No. I have no idea what just happened."

The familiar's muzzle curved into a gentle smile. "Take a look around."

Upon surveying the environment, you witnessed a remarkable mutation of the dreamscape. The once dreary path had evolved into an elegant thoroughfare, bordered by verdant grass and voluminous moonflowers. Delicate fireflies drifted gracefully near your face, their mystical whispers carrying on gentle currents of air, drawn to your presence like moths to a flame.

The celestial panorama above was breathtaking, an intricate tapestry of bright stars stretching across the infinite dark blue sky. Each constellation pulsed with lively vitality, their patterns seeming to dance and shift in the vast cosmic scenery.

Additionally, tendrils of luminous force circled your sitting form, reminiscent of shimmering ribbons. They coalesced into your hands, imbuing them with an intense glow.

Trembling, you turned your palms in front of you, examining them in incredulity. "Astra... what is happening to me...?"

"Do you truly not know?"

You frantically shook your hands as if trying to switch them off, but the light continued to pulse around them. "I bloody don’t! And frankly, I'm more than a little worried right now. How can I make this stop?"

"This is a dream, nothing is actually going to harm you."

"That still doesn't answer my question."

In time, the light generating from your skin diminished until it completely dissipated, leaving no visible trace of the phenomenon. Despite your racing thoughts and attempts to rationalize the experience, you were reminded that the nature of dreams often defies conventional explanation.

"Are you alright?" Astra asked softly, leaning forward to brush his nose against your chin.

"You're asking about me? Astra, you were practically dying in my arms moments ago."

"Well, technically I'm a dream, so I can't exactly die in the way mortals experience death."

"Still, you were just saying you would disappear."

Astra's head bobbed thoughtfully. "I wasn't expecting this either. But Y/N, whatever you did has restored both this part of the Dreaming and myself to our former state."

"I didn't do anything."

"Perhaps not consciously, but the power definitely came from you."

"Maybe it was the Dreamstone," you concluded. "After all, it contains Morpheus' energy."

"No, it wasn't the Dreamstone, I don’t think" he said resolutely. "It was coming from you—of that I am certain."

You rose to your feet and clasped your hands over your abdomen. "I'm truly relieved you're okay, but I have to admit... I've been feeling strange for a while now."

“Strange, you say?”

With calculated precision, Astra studied you intently, taking measured steps backward to analyze the atmosphere. His heightened senses became evident as his ears detected subtle changes, his penetrating gaze intensifying with each careful assessment. He proceeded to conduct a methodical examination, circling around you while his antlers created streams of light in his path.

Upon completing his examination, Astra halted in front of you, his dark, starry eyes fixating on your midsection. He emanated an aura of profound understanding, and when he spoke, his voice carried a distinct tone of reverence.

"Y/N, you... you are..."

"I am what...?"

"Oh... I see. He hasn't figured it out yet. And apparently, neither have you."

"Astra, what is this all about?" you inquired impatiently.

"You must leave now, to prevent any further... well, light shows. I will maintain vigilant oversight of his wellbeing in your absence."

"Astra, please! I don't understand any of this."

"You will, sooner than you think. Deep inside, I think you already know."

Before you could formulate a response, your voice dissipated into silence. The dream began to shift and distort, merging inexplicably with elements from your waking reality that seemed paradoxically out of place.

"Don't lose hope, Y/N. You are stronger than you realize. Through you, I am reborn."

“As——tra..”

He had already vanished into the distance, receding as he traversed the rolling hills and disappearing into the dense foliage. Your attempts to call after him resulted in nothing more than an inaudible faint breath, as your feet slowly sank into a sparkling pool of liquid gold.

In an instant, consciousness returned, and you found yourself in the familiar stillness of your bedroom.

As time wore on, your heartache deepened, and your physical condition oscillated between periods of relative wellness and severe misery.

Astra no longer visited your dreams, which had grown lifeless and barren. His words had awakened something in the recesses of your mind that you couldn't comprehend, but all you could focus on was Morpheus and your deep struggle without him in your life.

For most of the day, you curled up in a ball on your couch, letting your tears flow freely as you listlessly surfed through TV channels without really wanting to watch anything. Your cognitive clarity was significantly impaired, making focused work on your laptop particularly arduous. You found yourself experiencing frequent periods of mental fog, moving through the house in a daze, almost on autopilot.

You were barely holding on, eating and sleeping only the minimum necessary, finding even simple tasks like grocery shopping insurmountable without breaking down. The sight of happy couples on the street would leave you weeping unrestrained, with everything reminding you of Morpheus—the paths you'd walked together, the park where he'd shown you your mother's memory through your father's dream, and even your apartment, that still held his scent in every corner.

You strove to maintain regular communication with Ella and your father, but your interactions remained quite superficial as you carefully avoided discussing Morpheus. The prospect of verbalizing the separation seemed too daunting to bear, as though doing so would solidify the reality of the situation.

Outwardly, you laughed, joked, and put on a brave face to fake normalcy. But internally, you were screaming, fighting against invisible barriers, clutching at your hair in raw agony.

Meanwhile, contact with Hob was entirely equal to zero. You distanced yourself from his messages and calls, recognizing that his connection to Morpheus would made your conversations particularly difficult at this time. You knew it was unkind to someone you considered a close confidant, yet you required solitude to process this transition and come to terms with Morpheus' departure.

He had become completely absent, staying unreachable despite your attempts to get in touch with him. Your appeals to reestablish dialogue for the mutual benefit of both parties and the realm's wellbeing had gone unheeded by the Endless, leaving you feeling like you were talking to a wall.

Though hope still lived in your heart, you felt it slowly slipping away.

Inevitably, demonstrating steadfast persistence and recognizing the ineffectiveness of digital correspondence, Hob resorted to making an in-person visit to your residence. When he arrived at your door, frantically ringing and knocking, you knew you could no longer avoid the inevitable explanation.

The last thing you desired was to cause undue concern that might prompt him to contact law enforcement for a welfare check. Reluctantly, you opened the door to find Hob in visible agitation, breathing heavily and looking notably disheveled.

"Shit, I've been going mad with worry!"

You managed a weak smile, silently apologizing.

"What's goin' on here? Been trying to reach you for bloody ages!"

"I'm sorry Hob, I've been sick to the bone,” you said softly, stepping aside to let him in.

"You're looking rather peaky, Shortcake. Still got stomach troubles then?"

“Sort of,” you replied. As you closed the door and wrapped your arms around your chest, you fought to hold back fresh tears that threatened to fall.

"This has been dragging on for quite a stretch now, innit?"

You responded with an affirmative hum, watching as he took off his coat and hung it on the back of a dining chair.

"I was half convinced I'd find you lying dead somewhere. You can't just disappear on me like that."

“Sorry.”

"Have you seen a proper doctor about this yet?”

“Not yet.”

“When's the last time you had a decent meal? You're looking white as a ghost."

"I had lunch today.”

He settled onto the couch with a weary exhale, running his fingers through his hair while you remained stationary.

"I swear. I was about to storm your workplace and demand answers. Would it have killed you to send a quick message? Just a 'piss off Hob, I need space' would've done it if you weren't up for tal—"

His speech halted upon observing your condition—tears cascaded silently down your face, your form quivering with barely contained emotion.

In an instant, he leapt to his feet and rushed to your side, grasping your upper arms and rubbing them soothingly. "Hey! You're not crying because of me, are you? Have I said something wrong?"

Turning your head from side to side, you burst into even harder weeping.

"Then what is it? Come on, this can't all be about some stomach trouble."

You couldn't formulate a coherent sentence, your knees growing wobbly.

"Listen love, if I came across a bit too strong there, I apologize."

“It’s n…ot t..ha…t.”

"Just breathe now. Take your time."

You gasped for air, feeling it being cut off from your lungs. His proximity had you breaking down, erasing what little resistance you had left.

"He’s gone, Hob," you choked out, fingers clutching his shirt. "It's over between us."

“What…?”

"He left me."

Hob's eyes opened impossibly wide, his eyebrows knitting together in confusion. “He did what?”

His tone became more intense as he held your shoulders, studying your face with incredulity.

"What do you mean?! You two were mad for each other!"

"It wasn't enough. Not for him."

"What's gotten into that idiot?!"

Finally, your resolve evaporated like dust in the wind. You sank to the floor as every ounce of strength completely drained from your legs, with Hob kneeling beside you, holding you steady.

“Y/N!!”

You wept more intensely than ever before, venting out all your accumulated pain, anger, and utter devastation. Your heart was shrinking and decaying, as though there was a barbed wire built around it.

“I don’t know what to do,” you lamented through shuddering breaths. “I can’t live without him, Hob. I just can’t.”

Hob pulled you into a strong embrace, offering solace against his shoulder, and smoothing your hair with gentle strokes.

"I spend every moment crying. Everything I do reminds me of how much I miss him."

He acknowledged your pain, placing a reassuring kiss on your head.

"I feel like all my dreams have been destroyed. Everything has lost its meaning. I need him! I need him so much I can barely breathe!"

"Let it all out, Shortcake," he told you consolingly, "and when you're ready, tell me everything from the beginning."

You wailed, releasing the raw heartache you had inside, all that was left to give before becoming absolutely depleted.

"This is bullshit.”

"That's exactly what I told him," you commented, sipping the hot tea he had prepared in an attempt to settle your nerves.

"Listen, I've lived through the witch hunts and all that rubbish with prophecies and whatnot,” he stated. “And let me tell you, every single one of these so-called magic books turned out to be complete bollocks."

"I believe this one is different though."

"Different how?"

You gazed into your mug, your tired reflection rippling in the tea's surface. "You've known him for centuries. His powers are real, not fabricated by cultists."

"And how exactly does that prove this book is legit?"

"We both know he wouldn't mistake a fake object for a genuine dangerous artifact. He's not naïve."

Hob frowned pensively. "Right then, let's say this book is exactly what he claims, though you said yourself he doesn’t even know what it means."

“Yes.”

"Maybe we're not seeing the whole picture here. Could be he's got it all wrong, or hell, maybe there's a way to bypass this wretched prophecy."

With a bitter chuckle, you retorted, "It's not that simple, Hob. He said he needs time to understand it fully, and he wasn't willing to take the risk."

“You are worth every risk, Shortcake,” he clarified. "Look, I get it - we all want to protect the ones we love. But pushing you away like that? After I told him to look after you properly? That's really getting on my tits.”

“Wait, you did?”

"Back at the New Inn that day. And I'll tell you what, every time I tried to get a word in with him, his eyes were glued to you like a magnet."

The memory of that day was still vivid in your mind—how he joined you for a walk through Richmond Green before accompanying you home, where you shared an intimate afternoon together filled with tender kisses and ardent passion. You could still feel his touch, his lips on your skin, his playful teasing in your ear... his love.

Nothing more than bittersweet remnants that belonged to the past.

Your bottom lip quivered as grief welled up inside you. "I suppose none of that matters anymore."

"Don't you dare give up. Not yet."

You shrugged helplessly. "What can I do? He refuses to talk to me."

"If I get my hands on him, I swear to God—"

"Don't, please. It won't accomplish anything. And I don't want to be the reason your friendship falls apart."

Hob unleashed an angry growl. "Well, if he thinks I'm gonna sit down and have a drink with him in 100 years like nothing's happened, he can sod right off."

You gave him a faint smile, setting down your mug as another wave of nausea made the room spin through your blurred vision. "I don't have many options left. And I feel like I'm about to be sick."

"Shit, you've gone all pale again, love."

"I'm so sorry, Hob,” you said apologetically, gripping your stomach as you suppressed a surge of queasiness. “You should head home. I promise I'll respond to your texts and calls from now on."

With a determined look, he rose from the couch, strode over to his jacket, and quickly slipped it on. However, instead of saying goodbye and leaving, he dawdled there. With one hand on his hip and the other tapping his chin, he was seemingly formulating a plan of his own.

“Hob?”

"Right then, I'm going to get my things and bring 'em straight back here," he declared with conviction.

You stared blankly. "Eh?"

"I'm not about to bugger off and leave you on your own, not in this state. I'll stick around as long as you need, yeah? That's what friends are for."

"Hob, really, that's not nece—"

"Not budging on this one. End of discussion."

With a defeated sigh, you slumped back into the couch cushions. "What about your job? Your life? Are you seriously going to throw it all out for me?"

"Oh, come on! I'm not moving in permanently or anything. I've survived 700 years of work, think I can manage a short break."

"And your students? Didn't you mention having a new lesson ready for them? You spent so many sleepless nights preparing it. They need you, Hob."

"Right now you need me more than they do, and what I don't teach them tomorrow can wait for another day.”

“Hob, seriousl—”

“Just hang tight. I'll be back before you can say 'Wandering Jew’.”

With your protests dying on your lips, Hob dashed out the door with hurried footsteps, his sneakers echoing on the concrete outside, followed by the roar of his car engine springing to life.

Exhausted beyond measure, you sat motionless as the sound of his vehicle faded into the distance. His self-deprecating historical reference elicited an unexpected reaction, sparking a small grin that quickly erupted into surprising laughter. It was uncontrolled and erratic, exploding in loud, hysterical mirth.

Unfortunately, that fleeting enjoyment rapidly turned into another torrent of tears as your emotions swung wildly, forcing you to leap up and dash to the bathroom with your hand clasped against your mouth.

True to his word, Hob returned an hour later, carrying a backpack containing essential items including clothing and personal care products. Although having a houseguest was quite an adjustment, he assured you he would maintain appropriate boundaries and respect your need for personal and professional space.

During dinner, he provided welcome companionship and ensured proper nutrition by preparing a balanced, stomach-friendly meal for you. As your symptoms had temporarily abated, you were able to spend a peaceful evening watching classic films together, offering lighthearted commentary throughout the viewings. It proved therapeutic, helping you take your mind off things, at least temporarily.

For his overnight accommodation, Hob settled onto the living room couch, which was furnished with comfortable bedding including a plush pillow and warm blanket. The sofa's generous dimensions allowed him to rest comfortably, and as you passed by the living room on your way to bed, his peaceful slumber was evident from the gentle sound of his breathing.

Like a sudden tide, all your negative thoughts and feelings came rushing back in the stillness of the night, causing your heart to ache with a ravenous need for Morpheus's voice and the endless depths of his eyes. You turned to your side, holding back sobs once again as a bone-crushing burnout pulled your eyelids shut.

For a moment, you drifted into a void, your mind weaving together phantom voices and shapeless forms. You surrendered to the sensation, floating into an entirely different world as you crossed through a portal of light that solidified into physical form. You traversed a crystalline bridge, enveloped by clouds soft as cotton and stars that twinkled with life.

Thus commenced your descent into the realm of dreams, as tendrils of golden energy drew you into its embrace.

Towering rows of books and winding spiral staircases stretched before you, with precious artifacts meticulously displayed throughout the library's corners. You moved through the lengthy corridors with purpose, finding no volumes that captured your attention enough to warrant closer examination. You wandered without direction, guided only by the echoing sounds of turning pages and books being returned to their shelves.

Navigating through the passageways, you methodically traced your fingers across the book spines while proceeding deeper into the library. After what seemed an interminable journey, you detected a presence mere steps ahead.

Lucienne was organizing volumes in their designated locations with her characteristic precision and attention to detail, without her customary purple jacket, wearing only a long-sleeved white shirt and suspenders.

Upon seeing her, you were hit by that persistent sense of despondency you found impossible to overcome. Hastening your pace, you moved toward her with urgency, feeling the scent of old books in the air that stirred your tresses.

When she noticed your approach, her face brightened with a radiant smile. "Ah, I was wondering when you might visit. It's quite pleasant to see you here. May I be of any assistance—"

Without waiting for her to finish speaking, you rushed forward and wrapped your arms around her upper frame, causing the librarian to lose balance. The book she was holding fell from her grasp as she steadied herself, returning your gesture with measured restraint.

"My word" she remarked with surprise.

You swallowed, pressing your nose against her shoulder. "I missed you, Lucienne. I missed all of this."

Noting the tremor in your voice, she separated from you with concern. “Are you all right?”

"I wouldn't say that, no," you responded with a wan smile.

Lucienne regarded you with understanding, gently guiding you forward. "Come, let us have a seat."

Leading you with a soft touch on your back, she escorted you to her workspace, where numerous documents and open tomes were arranged across the desk. She gestured for you to take her armchair, its plush cushioning providing immediate alleviation, cradling you like silk.

"Shall I fetch you some tea?” She asked. “It would be my pleasure to serve you a cup."

"Thanks, Lucienne, but I don't feel like having anything right now. How are things holding up here?"

"I am managing to keep things orderly, though it has been rather demanding as of late."

"I expected as much," you said quietly, listening to the rain pattering against the library windows. "And... is there anything else?"

"I am uncertain what additional information you might be seeking. Perhaps you could elaborate?"

You moistened your lips, smoothing the fabric of your gown. "I mean... is he doing okay?"

"Oh... you are referring to Lord Morpheus, I presume?"

“Yes.”

"I am afraid His Lordship has been rather preoccupied these past few days," she replied with careful diplomacy. "Though I had rather hoped you might possess some insight that has eluded me?"

“Insight?”

"He appears to be in quite an... unusual mood, if I may be permitted to make such an observation."

Your gaze darted anxiously between her eyes. "Wait—you don't know?"

"Ah. I see there is something of significance that has not been brought to my attention."

You took a deep breath before speaking, as the words felt impossibly heavy to formulate. "Lucienne, we're not together anymore."

Even saying it aloud was despicable. The very thought was unfathomable, a reality your mind simply refused to accept as a solid fact.

Her composed, tight smile melted into an expression of disbelief. "I’m sorry, what?"

"We broke up last week. I thought you were informed."

"I’m rather confused," she expressed, carefully removing her spectacles. "Not to intrude upon personal matters, but… may I ask what circumstances brought about this decision?"

"If I'm being honest, I don't really know myself. He was the one who ended things.”

“Why would he do that?”

“All he mentioned was something called the 'Book of Paradoxes.'"

“The Book of Paradoxes…?”

You nodded. "Do you know anything about it?"

“I am quite familiar with the text in question, yes. I’ve never had the opportunity to examine it with my own eyes, but it is a most peculiar tome of considerable antiquity,” she began. “Its nature is unclear, perpetually changing its location throughout various planes of existence. The contents are said to reveal most unfortunate destinies to those who chance upon its pages, though its prophecies are invariably encoded in the most abstruse and enigmatic ways. They are written in riddles."

“I see.”

"So… has Lord Morpheus truly come to possess this particular volume?"

Your eyes moved to one of her documents, though you weren't truly reading it. "I suppose so. He said it revealed things about me... about the consequences that would unfold if our relationship continued. I thought he found it here, in the library."

"If such a book did manifest within these walls, I have no record nor recollection of its presence."

"And he never mentioned it to you?"

"Not at all. He has withdrawn entirely from his usual duties, and the Dreaming appears to be reflecting his troubled state. Your revelation does provide some clarity regarding these circumstances, at least."

Morpheus had become entirely reclusive, declining any form of interaction with those around him. The consequences of his sacrifice appeared increasingly severe, negatively impacting not only your wellbeing, but also his own stability and the integrity of the Dreaming itself.

"I had harbored suspicions regarding your involvement, but I was entirely unaware of these developments."

"Lucienne, I know you're busy, but... could you help me out with this?"

Her smile returned. "Rest assured, I shall investigate this matter thoroughly."

Her readiness to look into the book’s nature and prophetic warnings rekindled a glimmer of hope, offering potential understanding into its mysteries and the possibility of persuading Morpheus to reconsider his decision.

"Thank you, Lucienne. It means more than you know."

With a light fluttering of wings, Matthew landed on the table, oblivious to the preceding conversation. His legs nearly slipped on the pile of papers, but he regained his footing with casual grace. "Yo, Y/N! What's crackin'?"

"Matthew! I'm so happy to see you, buddy!"

He hopped closer, allowing you to gently stroke his feathered head with your fingernails. "Hey, looks like I gotta say congrats and all that jazz!"

You blinked in bewilderment. "Congratulations for what?"

Your unexpected query seemed to startle him, and his dark, glassy eyes widened as he quickly glanced at Lucienne. “"Uhhh... whoops?"

"Matthew," Lucienne's calm yet authoritative reproach cut through the air like the sharp edges of the papers on her desk.

"Look, I’m sorry. I thought she knew!"

“Knew what, exactly?”

"Oh, uh… nevermind! Forget I said anything. Just a bird bein' a birdbrain over here!"

When you turned to Lucienne, you took notice of her discomfort as she attempted—unsuccessfully—to redirect the conversation while avoiding eye contact. "Perhaps you would be interested in perusing some works of fantasy? We have recently acquired several rather intriguing tales."

"Lucienne?" you asked, arching an eyebrow. "What aren't you telling me?"

Exhaling in resignation and whispering "Thanks, Matthew" under her breath, she folded her hands together in front of her. "As you know, my duties include maintaining records concerning both the inhabitants of the Dreaming and any perceptible alterations within the realm."

"So?" you pressed, inching closer with anticipation.

She deliberated, selecting her response with care. "While you do not technically qualify as an inhabitant of the Dreaming in the traditional sense, your consistent presence here has resulted in a rather fascinating phenomenon; the gradual integration of your energetic signature into the fabric of the Dreaming itself."

Still not satisfied, you persisted, “Okay. And?”

"I… this is not the most appropriate way in which you should be discovering such delicate information."

"Please, Luce!" you cried out. "At this point, I could expect anything."

Positioning herself at the edge of the table adjacent to your seat, she gazed at you with uncertainty, weighing the gravity of what she was about to disclose. "Are you really sure you wish to receive this from me, rather than through more... appropriate channels?"

You gave a small laugh. "I have no idea what this is about, much less what these 'appropriate channels' might be."

"I mean, since we're spillin' the beans anyway, might as well tell her, right?"

Lucienne drew a deep breath, her expression contemplative. "I suppose there is little alternative." She faltered, composing herself with restraint before meeting your eyes. "The records have indicated the presence of a new heartbeat within the register. It appears there is... a new life, one that belongs to you."

The implications of her revelation eluded your comprehension as you processed her words, your dreaming haziness only serving to compound your mental fog. "A new heartbeat? A new life? What exactly does this have to do with… me…?"

Then, the realization hit you like a bolt of electricity, paralyzing your thoughts and stealing your voice away.

"Y/N, you... you are..."

"I am what...?"

"Oh... I see. He hasn't figured it out yet. And apparently, neither have you."

"Have you perhaps noticed any peculiar changes or symptoms?" She asked.

"I... I did, actually," you murmured, your voice barely audible. "But, Lucienne, that's impossible. This must be some mistake."

"I can assure you that my records are quite reliable."

An incredulous chuckle escaped you. "Okay, but... that's absurd. There's no way I could be pregnant.”

"Are you totally sure about that?" Matthew tilted his head. "Like... you know... one hundred percent absolutely positively sure?"

"I'm always careful," you declared firmly. "I've been on protection for years. I've never..."

You had followed a consistent regimen of contraceptive medication without interruption. The routine had become second nature, with the added benefit of regulating hormonal balance and menstrual malaise. It had been absolutely essential, with one of the highest effectiveness rates among comparable products.

You had never missed a dose or taken a break from it, not even a single time as prescribed.

..Except…

After reflection, there had been a significant lapse.

"I… I wasn't asleep. When Morpheus invited me here, I was awake—physically present. And I didn't have my medication with me. I couldn't take it."

"Well, damn..." Matthew stammered. "So this whole thing was an accident, huh? Talk about a plot twist!"

How could you have been so careless, never questioning the consequences of your actions? The temporal displacement had completely disrupted your biological rhythms, and between the Vortex incidents, the events at Cape Kennedy, and your work responsibilities, the thought hadn't even crossed your mind.

Everything suddenly clicked into place: the recurring dreams of a newborn, the persistent physical symptoms plaguing you, and even Astra's mysterious words all pointed to one undeniable conclusion.

"Astra, please! I don't understand any of this."

"You will, sooner than you think. Deep inside, I think you already know."

"I haven’t informed him yet" Lucienne stated. "But I’m afraid I won’t be able to maintain discretion about this indefinitely. It is only a matter of time before Lord Morpheus discovers the truth on his own."

“I… I understand…”

Shock paralyzed you in the armchair as your breathing grew labored. The space around you began to blur and alter, becoming increasingly surreal and hazy.

"...Y/N..."

A faraway voice called your name from somewhere beyond.

"Y/N... Wa...ke.....u..p...!"

"Uhm… looks like she’s about to go."

"Yes, I can see that."

As you began to fade, suspended between the two dimensions, you addressed Lucienne with a final, desperate request before consciousness pulled you back to the realm of the waking. "Please, find that book, Luce!" you shouted. "Don't leave him alone!"

With a graceful inclination of her head and a reassuring smile that conveyed both understanding and commitment, Lucienne silently affirmed her intentions as you vanished in a brilliant flash of light, leaving behind a sparkling trail of stardust.

"Aaand she's outta here,” Matthew squawked.

"Shit, Y/N! wake up already!"

Awareness gradually returned, your eyes stinging as you awakened to find Hob's face hovering above you. His features were illuminated by the luminescence permeating the room, highlighted by a soft gilt contour.

Strange, you thought. You clearly remembered turning off the nightstand lamp.

“Hob…? What are you doing here?”

As you fully readjusted, darkness reclaimed the room, with only ambient light from the outside world filtering through the curtains.

"Fuck, sweetheart. What in God's name was that?! You frightened me to death! I thought you were about to burst into flames!"

Rubbing your eyes, you sat up through momentary grogginess. "What are you talking about? Did you have a nightmare?"

“Are you joking? You mean to tell me you haven’t noticed?”

Stifling a yawn, you looked at him through drowsy eyes. "Noticed what?"

His expression betrayed a deep apprehension, staring at you intently, his breathing noticeably rapid and uneven. "Y/N... you were lit up like a bloody Christmas tree!"

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22 Chapter 23 (currently reading) Go to Chapter 24 (coming soon) ->

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