#oh and it tried to get me to set up apple pay

[ftlolbyexe]

this is bullshit my dumbass ipad just took a whole HOUR FOR A 4 GIGABYTE UPDATE

but hell if im getting locked out of the hellsite

[grymghoul]

The way ARTHUR MORGAN smokes had always had you captivated. The way his lips pursed on the exhale, the corners of his mouth quirked up as he listened to you talk. He'd entertain your rambles much longer than he needed to, mostly because it gave him an excuse to look at you. He'd set you all comfortable and close on his thigh, his hand on the small of your back as he nodded along. "You don't say.." He'd mumble, brushing your hair from your face. "Are you even listening to me?" The words were sharp but no malice was intended. After all, you made yourself sound stupid just to watch the way he smoked. Who really was dumber here? He laughed at your accusation, his head rolling back, giving you a view of his Adam's apple and how it bobbed. "Course I am, keep goin' on about ol' miss Grimshaw.." You rolled your eyes, that subject passing long ago. You plucked the cigarette from his fingers, flicking it away. "I think I know how I can keep your attention." You were bored of his lack of serious attention and his cigarette. He leaned up, waiting for this moment, it always happened. Sooner or later, you'd get tired of his games and take matters into your own hands. "Oh, is that right?" He goaded you, giving you that self satisfied smile. "Oh, yes, mister Morgan.." He leaned up, meeting the kiss you were initiating when your hands held his cheeks. It was sloppy, rushed, you'd take him in the chair he sat in at his tent. "You never pay attention to me.." The expression you gave him bordered on puppy dog eyes. "'M sorry, lemme fix that." His hands dragged you over to straddle his lap, kissing at your neck. "Keep talkin', you got my attention." The kisses stole your breath, hands threading through his hair, as you tried to think. What stupid story were you telling, it was mundane, it was.. exciting. No, he's exciting. His mouth is hot, his scruff distracting, his hands on your breast. "Fuck. Um.." He laughed, sucking the skin just under your jaw as his free hand slid under your skirt. "Now, is that the way a lady talks?" What were you saying? You grasped at straws in your head until his fingers found your folds. He wet his lips as he watched your brain struggle behind your eyes, his fingers slipping in to the knuckle. "Poor thing.." He chuckled as you gave up on words, rocking your hips against his hand. "This the attention you wanted, pretty girl?" He smirked at the way you panted and nodded to his words, barely able to pay attention.

[theemporium]

Oh, please write for Mat! What about something fluffy with surprising the partner at home?

thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

.

You were dragging your feet by the time you reached your apartment after work.

The exhaustion you felt went beyond lack of sleep and long days, it was set deep in your bones and made every part of your body feel ten times heavier than usual. Everything felt harder than usual. From falling asleep at night to getting up in the morning, from focusing in classes to paying attention during your shifts, from just pushing your body to work on some twisted sense of routine that made you feel like you were a robot completing tasks to the fact you hadn’t felt like yourself in a while.

It was tiring, it was exhausting and you didn’t know what to do about it. And coming home to a completely empty apartment didn’t help settle the unease in your chest, the one that had been bubbling since Mat left for a roadie over a week ago. 

However, being on the other side of the country only put a damper on your already shitty mood. By the time you could manage a conversation over message or call, it was late for you and you were fighting to keep your eyes open, even if you knew you would inevitably be tossing in your bed for a few hours trying to fall asleep. Though, you never did sleep well when Mat was gone.

Despite every cell in your body screaming for you to forget dinner and curl up in bed with the hopes that you could manage more than a few hours of sleep for your first day off in almost two weeks, you knew there was still so much buzzing in your mind for you to do and you didn’t even think the comfort of being home would help. 

You were so lost in your thoughts that it took three attempts before you managed to slot the key into the lock, turn the handle and shuffle inside. You hadn’t even acknowledged the extra pair of shoes by the door or noted the bag dumped a few feet away. 

You didn’t even catch on to any of it until you lifted your head and found Mat standing there, dressed in a pair of sweatpants and hoodie, with his arms spread open and a massive grin on his face as he stared right back at you. 

“Surprise!”

You blinked, your brain unable to even process the sight in front of you.

“We decided to take a late night flight because the early morning one got cancelled so we came home early,” Mat explained as he closed the distance between you, grinning at your silence thinking you were just shocked. “Couldn’t wait to get home to my girl.”

The second he was close enough, Mat wasted no time in winding his arms around your waist and tugging you close until you practically fell into his chest. He grinned down at you, so giddy and happy to just be back home with you that it took a few seconds before he noticed your silence, before he noticed the dark circles under your eyes and the glaze over your eyes like you weren’t fully focused, like you were disassociating. 

“Oh baby,” he murmured, his voice softer and quieter as he raised his hand to gently cup your face, to let his thumb brush over the apple of your cheek as your body instinctively sagged against his touch. 

“M’just a little tired,” you tried to wave him off, but this was Mat. This was Mat who wasn’t just your boyfriend but your best friend, the one who saw right through your bullshit and bad excuses. “I’m glad you’re home. I’ve missed you.”

“I missed you too,” he murmured, his lips twitching upwards before he leaned down to place a soft, lingering kiss on your lips. “And I’m glad I’m home too, can take care of my girl like she deserves.”

You sighed. “Mat—”

“Let me take care of you, baby,” he whispered, a glint in his eyes that made your heart race in your chest. “Please.”

“Just hold me.” You hated the way your voice cracked as you spoke. “I just really missed being in your arms.”

His grip on you instantly tightened as he brought you closer, as he wrapped his arms around you and hugged you close until your cheek was pressed against his chest, the smell of his hoodie so comforting and so him. It was overwhelming in the best way possible.

“Always,” he answered as he pressed another kiss along your hairline. “How about ordering from that Thai place you like?”

“I thought you hated it,” you mumbled into his shirt.

“I like some of it,” he argued weakly but you could hear the smile in his voice. “Tonight is your choice. Tomorrow we can order something obscene I like that will make the trainers cry.”

You laughed lightly, and the sound made his grin widened. “Deal.”

“Good, now go get changed into something comfy,” Mat murmured as he pulled you away from his chest, lightly pushing you in the direction of your shared bedroom. “M’gonna put on that show you like.”

“And you won’t get offended when I ogle Damon Salvatore?” You questioned, mostly teasing as you took a few steps backwards.

Mat rolled his eyes, but still smiled as he placed his hand over his heart. “Scout’s promise, baby.” He paused for a moment. “Even if I’m much hotter than him.”

“No doubt about it, baby.”

.

[sturns-mermaid]

Chapter 4: Spilled Milk

✮ wc: 979

no warnings :)

other parts here | chapter 5 coming soon!

You continued walking into the crowded hallway because all the other students were moving to their next class. You were stunned by Chris’s claim; human time travel seemed impossible. Moving through universes was only something you saw on TV or in movies. Never did it occur to you it could happen in real life. You sat through your class with Chris poking your arm every so often waiting for your answer. You didn’t know what to say or do. How could you wrap your head around this strange story he was telling? Did he get stuck in a video game? Was that even possible? A croaky voice interrupted your thoughts as Mr. Jones cleared his throat looking straight at you. You hadn’t been paying too much attention to the lesson. “Do you have an answer?” he cleared his throat once more, looking away from the blackboard as you felt all eyes on you. You open your mouth to say something but the bell rings once more, and the class nearing an end quickly interrupts you. You let out a sigh of relief. Everyone packs their things and heading for the exit you pack your, bag feeling Chris gaze on you the entire time. “So are you gonna help me or not?” he asks, running a hand through his messy brunette locks. “Help you with what?” you mutter, throwing your bag over your shoulder, the two of you walk out of the classroom. “Get back to my life,” he replies, walking beside you. You freeze, noticing his lack of backpack or any belongings; he doesn’t even seem to belong to this era—perhaps it was just chance. “Are you still on this whole time travel fiasco?” you snort, continuing to walk and make your way toward the lunchroom. 

Chris nods, his legs following suit behind you as you grab your lunch tray. Something feels familiar about this practice that he hasn’t done in years since he was in high school, in his own timeline, of course. He never expected to time travel or be back to his 18-year-old self again. It all felt so surreal. He knew he had to get back before Matt and Nick noticed they were most likely freaking out. Observing you get your lunch, the food made Chris lose his appetite. “So if you’re not from this year, what year are you from?” she asked, picking up an apple from the container as she made her way through the lunch line. “Twenty-twenty-four,” Chris replied, opting for an apple and a carton of chocolate milk. He watched as your brows furrowed before letting out a laugh. Your laugh sounded like music to his ears. “Yeah right, forty-one years in the future?” she questioned, shaking her head as she found yet another claim of his to be nonsense. Chris opened his chocolate milk trying to catch up with you as he seemed to get lost in the crowd of students making their way to their tables. “Hey! Wait up” he shouted as he tried to slip past people to get to the table where you sat. “Look, Chris, I’ll play whatever game you’re so obsessed with but that’s only because I feel bad,” you say as you sit down and set your tray in front of you, unwrapping your sandwich. “Why would you feel bad?” he asks, watching you as he takes another drink of the milk. “You’re clearly living in some fantasy world,” she says as she chews her food, picking out the tomatoes from in between the bread. Chris watches you, his mind replaying how Matt doesn’t like tomatoes either, he doesn’t know how long he has been away according to their time. Your friend Monica, her hair tangled and in her face, interrupted his thoughts by sitting down across from you both. “Who’s he?” she questioned as she nodded her head towards Chris, popping a grape in her mouth. You eyed her grinning as you set your sandwich down, putting a hand on Chris’s shoulder. “This is Chris, he’s a time traveler,” you replied in a mocking tone. She bursts out laughing, causing the grape to fling across the table, starting Chris as he drops his milk carton out of his hand, spilling it everywhere. “Oh, no! Are you okay?” you ask, noticing his clothes are now soaked. Chris looks down at the puddle of chocolate milk covering the table and sees the words “read the handbook” With a sudden blink the words are gone leaving him to process what they mean and if he was the only one who had seen them.

You shook Chris seeing as he stared at the spilled milk dripping from the table you gathered some napkins from the lunch line as you walked back over and tried to clean up the mess. “Hey, it’s okay no need to cry over spilled milk” You whispered to him watching as he finally lifted his head to meet your gaze. “Did you see that?” he asked pointing to the puddle that was now being soaked up by the napkins. “See what?” you question confused as you continue to pile on napkins in the mess. Chris shook his head clearing his mind of the thought he was probably just seeing things his brain tricking him into this whole situation. “I gotta go,” he mutters as he stands up abruptly his clothes still dripping with chocolate milk. You try to protest but he slips past you too fast. You're left watching him with hunched over shoulders make his way out of the lunchroom. You turn over to your friend who sits with a raised eyebrow, before gathering the pile of wet napkins. “What’s his deal?” she asks helping you throw them away as you two walk after him. “Beats me, but I’m going to find out,” you say determined to understand what exactly is going on.

divider: @rubybara

tags: @itsmaddielouis @oliviasthatgirl @scorpio1205 @submattenthusiast @mattsplaything @courta13 @anyaa2s @brianna-grace12 @sofia-is-a-sturniolo-triplet-fan @sturnshood @stxrsniolo @immaqulate @t0riiiis @heartsonlyforchris @blushsturns @conspiracy-ash @hearts4werka @mattsbows @sweetshuga @ilusa @luzstarkey @chrissweetheart

dm or comment to be added!

[autumnslance]

FFXIV Write 2024: 4 Reticent

“Argh! I cannot stand it!”

Dark Autumn looked up as C’oretta strode into the office and began—not so much pacing, as agitated bouncing from point to point in a semi-regular pattern. Violet bounced along, trying to keep up, but soon flumped onto her purple rump in the middle of the carpet, looking dizzy.

“So there’s this problem in the lab and Ryss and Zoissette are arguing about the aethercurrent variables except you know how they argue it’s not like a proper fight and it just makes me itchy and in the meanwhile they don’t want to listen to my ideas and Apple isn’t around where is she anyway I haven’t seen Meya today either come to think of it anyroad the variance in current isn’t the problem but those beanpoles are too in the clouds to listen!”

Dark finished the final column, signed off on the sheet, set it aside and sat back to give her full attention to the frustrated Miqo’te.

“Right? So I was doing the math you know I’m good at it for instance you forgot a carry there—” She had glanced at the sheet as she moved, upside down from her perspective, and the carry wouldn’t have been missed if there hadn’t been an energetic pink distraction in the room—“And so I tried to fix it cuz sometimes the best way to just get anything done in there is to just do it while people are having their debates you know and then suddenly I was being tossed out!”

Dark raised an eyebrow.

C’oretta sighed. “Okay yeah I know I need to show my work and not just fix it even if it’s wrong and that’s super itchy to see and also it’s really obvious like I don’t know how such brillliant people miss it but we do get distracted a lot maybe it’s too many cooks but I’m trying to do my part and help.

Dark shook her head, a light smile on her lips.

“I suppose I could just write it down ooh I should get a journal I could make it all cute with stickers and glitter okay maybe not glitter Silent Coeurl would murder me unless I did it outside so it doesn’t get all over the house and I can put the extra stickers on the chocobos’ beaks cuz that’d be adorable and then I’d have a journal with all my notes and ugh I guess I can write out the formulas and long division and whatever else Zoissette wants to see and then they’ll have to pay attention.”

Dark made a thoughtful grunt.

“They probably are done debating by now and maybe willing to listen especially if I look cute and promise to show them how I figured it out but oh could you walk Violet and give her a treat cuz we’re bound to go over time?”

Dark nodded.

“Thanks Dark you’re the best I feel so much better when we talk and I bet Silent Coeurl’s got a journal I can use I’ll need a cute pen too better make it five cuz I’ll lose them anyroad Violet you stay with Auntie Dark I have equations to share.”

She bound out, Violet sighing heavily as she moved over to drape herself over Dark’s feet.

Dark leaned down to scritch the small behemoth between her horns. The walk could wait a few more minutes as she reached for the last add sheet to fix the accounting error.

[ctimenefic]

So @strawberry-daiquiris wrote an incredible F1 Traitors AU (seriously, go read it) and was kind enough to let me paddle around in the Galex end of the pool.

Many thanks to @latecomersprivilege, for whom this is a belated birthday gift, an almost on time Valentine's gift, and ultimately not what she asked for but what she's getting!

It’s a month since the last episode aired and George hasn’t messaged him.

Oh, he’s in the group chat - he’s the admin of the group chat. He’s posting memes, even the ones about himself, nearly every day. Asking very sincerely after people’s partners, their kids. Adding little crying laughing emojis to almost all the jokes. (Almost all - never Alex’s. Not even once. Which. Come on. Checo’s not even that funny.)

So. Yeah, it’d been bad, at the end, at their last round table together, George damp eyed and smiling through it and Alex nearly fumbling his own defence trying to tell him one more time “it’s just a game”.

But. Like. Not so bad as to cancel out everything else. Or at least, Alex had thought so. Hoped so.

It’s been a month.

Hey just wondering if we shd have a coffee or smthg? Clear the air?

Sure. When?

Nxt wk? Peckham?

(George told him all about his little flat in Dulwich, how he properly loved all the twee village-y shit like the wooden sign-posts and bougie cafes, in their murmured conversations in the hotel corridors, heads ducked together and voices low. Alex had taken the piss, but so softly he’d barely recognised his own cadence. That- that had been the first clue, before he’d started noticing how George’s adams apple bobbed when he got loud.

But Dulwich is packed to the brim with Traitors fans, has to be, all middle class mums and families that gather round the telly of an evening to actually spend time together. They’d be spotted in seconds. So Peckham feels safer, crowded and anonymous and too fucking cool to pay attention if Alex has to get on his knees and beg George to- to-)

The cafe’s still a bit posh, which means it’s basically deserted. George is wearing the kind of T-shirt that only fits that well because it’s expensive.

He’s ordered tea already, and Alex wants to remind him to drink up, like he did at breakfast every morning, because George would always get too into their conversation to finish before it got cold. He’d slug it back anyway, wincing, and Alex would pretend to ignore the line of his throat.

“I’m sorry you didn’t win,” George blurts. “I know I- I didn’t help, I know, but after, I did want it to be you. You’d worked so hard.”

Alex stares at him. “I never thought I would. Maybe near the end, a bit, but. Well. I got lucky.”

George pulls a face. “Come on, you were brilliant at it. So convincing. I really thought I’d find out you were, like, an actor or something.”

George smiles at that, small and tight. “Oh, yeah, the office have been so weird about it. Saying they didn't watch, and then making jokes that prove they did. I've stopped paying attention to it.”

Alex tries to laugh, like it’s a joke. Like he hadn’t talked George’s ear off about the practice. How he’d use the money, if they won - as Faithful - to get back to his veterinary degree, properly qualify. “Nah, still at my old place. They’ve, uh, let me take the backroom stuff for a bit, while it dies down.”

Alex nods. Pretends George has got better at lying. “Hope they're not being nasty.”

“Oh, not too bad.” The ‘too’ makes Alex want to snarl, set his teeth in someone's neck. Bastards. And George's blasé tone runs a little thin as he goes on. “Might quit, actually, try the influencer thing for a bit. It's basically the same as sales, just, you know. Different product.”

“You'd be good at that,” Alex tries. “Influential. I'd be, uh, influenced.” In the time it takes George to blink three times, Alex experiences all nine levels of hell and a few more added just for him.

I'd be influenced. Christ.

“How are you doing with that, sponsorships and stuff?” George asks and Alex shrugs. He’s got his fans, the ones who think he was robbed, rather than bottled it. His Insta’s big, now, not millions but, like, decent. Marketable. Problem is, he isn’t.

“Turns out, being known as a really good liar doesn’t get loads of hashtag spon ops,” he says, trying to keep it light. Like money hadn’t been the whole point. George’s face falls, the first unrehearsed expression Alex has seen all morning.

“Oh crikey, I’m sorry, I didn’t- cause it’s been alright, and I was a traitor too, at the end so-”

“Yeah, but I forced you into it, didn’t I? I’m the bad guy.” There’s a decent TikTok edit of him to that Billie Eilish song, all his smiles and laughs and fond looks, set to the beat of sociopathy. It’s very slick; turned his stomach on the second watch. “Plus, you know, you look like that, which probably helps.”

He knows it’s been more than alright for George. He hasn’t liked any of his Instagram posts, too… proud? ashamed? But he’s seen them all, including the Stories, so George must know he’s been there. Or maybe he doesn’t, maybe there’s hundreds of people, and they’re not mutuals, he remembers abruptly. George didn’t follow him back.

He flips his phone in his hands, once, twice; worries at the crack in the screen down by the bottom right corner, just enough to feel the scrape against the pad of his thumb.

George notices, of course. Those big blue eyes, all the better for spotting clues. Terrible at knowing what they meant. “Do you wanna take a picture for insta then? Show people it’s all water under the bridge?”

“Uh, not really? I mean…” it doesn’t feel under the bridge, or air cleared. Alex still feels like he’s choking on it.

That small wrinkle he used to make fun of appears between George’s brows. “Wasn’t that the point of this?”

“Jesus, no, I’m not-” Alex feels sick, properly sick, hot chocolate coming back on him for a second. “I wanted to be friends - I want to be friends. Again.”

“Again,” George repeats, after a beat.

Alex swallows. Presses the tip of his tongue against the edge of his front teeth, where they turn sharp enough to cut, like a bit of pain now will soothe the sucking void where his stomach used to be. “Right, no, of course. Forget it, look, I'll get these and-”

George catches his wrist before he can make a break for it. His thumb lands in the soft spot between the tendons, where Alex’s pulse beats - ha - traitorously fast.

“Wait. You haven't told me how your mum is. And your sisters. And Luca, obviously, and the cats.”

“The cats?”

“Yeah, obviously. Can't go before I hear about the cats, ‘Lex. All of them. So you should probably, um, sit back down.”

So he does.

[honeybeezgobzzzzz]

𓅨 An Accepted Apple

An Accepted Apple: Morpheus’s point of view of An Offered Apple.

Warnings: Morpheus is Looking for an Excuse to Make a Move (Reader Inadvertently Gives Him One), Oblivious, Naive, & Meek Reader, Morpheus is Head-Over Heels in Love W/ Reader, Segmented Reading, Reader Accidentally Asks Dream of the Endless to Marry Her. 

To Note: Morpheus/Dream x Librarian!FemaleReader.

Word Count: ~6.5k

An Offered Apple | Masterlist | An Innocent Apple

You were an unusual human, Morpheus knew that much. Plenty of humans argued with his sister over their death, they begged for more time, they offered human currency, they even denied dying in the first place. But not you. You had simply refused to leave your library, stating that not even death could remove you from your beloved books. His sister never made deals with mortals, but you had stubbornly wormed your way into making one with her and ended up as a librarian in his realm. You had easily won the heart of Lucienne with your love for books, but your painfully shy nature made you scarce and Morpheus rarely saw or heard you. Morpheus had a new resident in his realm and he didn’t even know you. 

Morpheus changed the page of the story of dreams he had in his lap, his eyes scanning the pages for the knowledge he required. Lucienne was in the process of pulling several more books he needed from the library which would arrive shortly. Matthew, who had been standing to Morpheus’s right on the stairs, took to the air. Morpheus was only half paying attention to his raven when he heard a soft voice.

“Hello,” Your voice was perhaps the sweetest Morpheus had heard in centuries. “You must be Matthew.” No, your voice was the sweetest he had heard in centuries, and lifting his eyes ever so slightly, Morpheus caught sight of his new flighty librarian. You held a stack of books against your chest, the very books he had asked Lucienne to bring him. She must have sent you instead. 

“Oh! You’ve heard of me?” Matthew replied happily. “Yes! I serve Morpheus… or at least help him out. And you must be Y/N, the new librarian Lucienne is very territorial over.” The corner of Morpheus’s lips twitched at Matthew’s observation. Lucienne was indeed territorial over you, your shyness and meekness aside… you belonged to the library and if anyone tried to take you away? They would have to deal with Lucienne herself. Morpheus dropped his eyes back to his book, knowing that you wouldn’t feel comfortable knowing that you were being watched. Certainly not by him. At the very least he could enjoy the sound of your melodic voice. 

“…mind that, Lucienne has tasked me to bring Lord Dream the books he requested.” At the overly formal calling of his name, Morpheus lifted his eyes once more and met your gentle gaze. He heard you let out a faint noise shortly before your eyes dropped to be floor in meekness. “If you will excuse me, Matthew, I should make my delivery and get back to the library.” Morpheus watched as you scurried forwards, entirely frightened and keeping your eyes trained on your toes. You offered the stack of books, a slight tremble in your hands. “The books you requested, Lord Dream.” 

Morpheus closed the book and set it aside. Then he took reached for the books, his fingers brushing against yours. He marveled at the warmth of your flesh for only a fraction of a second before your fingers retracted ever so slightly. But you didn’t fully retract from his touch, at least not until Morpheus had a full grasp on the books. 

“Is there anything else I can do for you while I am here?” You queried, your eyes nervously darting around. You were looking everywhere but at Morpheus. He took note of this, wondering why you seemed so on edge around him. Had he not opened his realm to you? Had Morpheus not given you the very job that you loved with everything you had? He had given you everything, did that not show you his favoritism? Perhaps you simply had your face in your books too much to notice, never mind, he could try harder. 

“If you wouldn’t mind returning this book to Lucienne for me, I would be most appreciative,” Morpheus responded, offering the book he had been reading to you. You took it without question and turned to leave, Morpheus couldn’t help but call to you. “Y/N…” You froze in your tracks like a frightened deer. 

“Yes, Lord Dream?” Morpheus gazed at you. Would you not look at him? Were you that fearful of him? No, your eyes lifted to his. Morpheus gently aired out his question.

“Will you not address me as Morpheus?” Morpheus inquired, hoping that you would at the very least, would feel more comfortable addressing him less formally. He didn’t expect your face to flush and to hear your heartbeat pick up in pace. Not fearful, that was good. 

“Well— I’m mean— I’m— surely I am… not in a position to address you with such familiarity…” You were stuttering for words in an adorable mess. “I’m just an assistant…” Always so meek and mild… where was your spark of passion? Your fiery determination? Morpheus raised his midnight eyebrow in question. Surely you could see your worth beyond that.

“Are you? Will you still be resistive to the notion even if I ask you to address me as such?” Morpheus spoke, hoping that you would be more agreeable to a less formal relationship. One that might bear the fruit of a more intimate relationship. You looked taken aback by his words like you hadn’t ever considered the possibility of such a thing.

“I— well, if my lord demands so…” Ah, this was going to take some work… but Morpheus had time and patience. 

“I do not demand so, Y/N, I simply wish you to call me by my name. While I am the king of Dreams and Nightmares, that does not mean I cannot be friends with those that reside in my realm.” 

“You wish… to be friends… Lord Drea—“ You cut yourself off, a clear indication that you were considering Morpheus proposed wish. He hoped that you would be agreeable. Then you corrected yourself to his joy. “Lord Morpheus.” His name fell from your lips like nectar. Sweet, honeyed, and addicting. Morpheus replied to mitigate your unease, a touch of amusement in his eyes. Had you really thought him so terrifying?

“I do, should you be so inclined. I do not think myself to be in a position to force you into something you do not want.” Your lips parted for a moment, words failing to flow from your desirable lips. 

“I— uh... my lord, I mean… yes, I think I would like that.” You stuttered out shyly. “I don’t have a lot of friends and Mervyn says I spend too much time with Lucienne or with my nose stuck in a book… so, yes, I would like to be friends with you… Morpheus.” Again his name fell from your lips and Morpheus basked in the echoes of your voice. Yes, he could get used to hearing his name falling from your sweet lips. Morpheus felt a smile creep to the corner of his mouth, then when your shoulders relaxed and your face settled the same, his smile widened a fraction. “Is there anything else I can do for you?” 

“No, I think that should be all, Y/N. Thank you.” Morpheus replied, eyes carefully observing you. You bowed your head and headed out of the throne room. He could see an immediate change in your posture and pace. You were walking less like an animal of prey and your steps were more sure. He had managed to put a crack in your wall of nerves. When you were gone, Matthew fluttered over. 

“Wow, sir, I think you managed to get her to relax a bit!” Matthew commented happily. Morpheus found his eyes lingering on the archway you had disappeared through, his mind following you as you headed back to the library. 

“Matthew, would you please go see if she is well?” Matthew eyed Morpheus and had he still been in his human form, he would have been grinning. “There is no need for her to fear anyone here. Certainly not me.” 

“Well, sir, Lucienne did say that she suffers from low confidence and is quite shy and well…” Morpheus raised an eyebrow at his raven. Matthew shifted in place. 

“What is it?”

“You’re kind of intimidating and imposing, sir,” Matthew pointed out. Morpheus’s eyes blazed at his raven. “What!? It’s true!” Morpheus resisted the urge to sigh. 

“Matthew, please, check on her,” Matthew gave Morpheus a wing salute and swooped into the air, diving in the direction Y/N had gone. Morpheus’s gaze went slightly foggy as he peered through his raven's eyes. 

Matthew knew the moment Morpheus started using his eyes and forced himself to not roll his eyes. It was painfully obvious to everyone in the palace, let alone The Dreaming, that Morpheus had a thing for the human Death had brought to the realm not even two months past. There mere fact that the Endless had put you in such a position of power, so early on, was clear evidence. Morpheus was smitten… only you were entirely oblivious and had zero clue to the fact that you had the heart of an Endless wrapped around your fingers! You were the literal definition of oblivious. 

Lucienne and Mervyn even had a bet on how long you would remain oblivious to the Endless feelings.

Matthew fluttered into the library and coasted through the shelves until he saw you standing by a table with the book Morpheus had given you to return to the shelves.

“Hello Matthew, do you need something?” You asked as Matthew coasted over to the bookshelf nearest to you. Aware of the presence of Morpheus in the back of his mind, Matthew squawked out a response. 

“Hi Y/N!” The raven nearly cringed at the pitch in his voice. Surely it was a dead giveaway because you frowned and took a step closer. 

“Are you alright, Matthew?” Matthew shook his head and wings, trying to rid that odd feeling of having Morpheus in the back of his mind. 

“Perfectly fine, just thought I’d see how you were doing,” Matthew spoke, his voice still very much high. He hopped a few paces and shook his head again. “Lucienne told me about you…” Matthew continued, he saw that you flushed in embarrassment and scrambled to correct himself. “Nothing bad! Just that you struggle with confidence… and I know Morpheus is kind of intense.” Matthew. Morpheus’s call of name in warning had the raven hopping several spaces across the bookshelf with a loud squawk. Your face filled with concern. 

“Matthew?” 

“I’m fine! I’m fine,” Matthew blurted out. “I’ve just been dealing with a... headache… that comes and goes.” Matthew inwardly cackled at referring to Morpheus as a headache. 

“Maybe you should ask Lucienne about it then? I’m sure she’s dealt with headaches like that before being that she was Lord Dre— Morpheus’s, first raven.” Matthew felt Morpheus's joy at your use of his name. Naturally, the Endless was head over heels for you already. Matthew bobbed his head in agreement with your words.

“Yeah, yeah, good idea, good idea, we should do that,” He said, trying to nudge Morpheus in his mind to, you know, back off before he gave them away. Matthew then cleared his throat. “Anyways, not to point it out or draw attention, but are you okay?” You started moving for the shelves. 

“I’m okay,” You said as Matthew coasted after you. “I’ve heard a lot about him from Lucienne and Death.” He felt Morpheus's curiosity for what the pair had told you about him, but Matthew diverted the topic elsewhere, his own curiosity taking precedence. 

“You talked with Death?” Matthew asked while watching you heft the book into a spot on the shelves. 

“Once, right after I died,” Right, Matthew had forgotten that you had died, just like him. I may or may not have gotten into an argument with her. I didn’t want to stop tending to my library… that’s how I ended up here.”

“You argued with Death!?” Matthew blurted out in surprise, trying his best not to start laughing. How could you argue with Death when you were fearful of Dream? “How!? No offense, but you look like you have the confidence of a bunny!” Clear embarrassment flushed across your cheeks. 

“I like books, okay! I wasn’t going to let death stop me from enjoying my first and only love.” You argued back at Matthew, the raven couldn’t help it and started laughing. 

“For a human as timid as you are, you sure pick weird battles!” Matthew left you fuming in place, coasting his way back to the throne room. When he flew up to Morpheus, he earned an eye from his master. “What? She looks fine to me, sir.”

“Must you tease her further Matthew?” Morpheus sighed. Matthew couldn’t help but cackle again. 

“But she’s so easy too!” He cried out in between breaths. “Looks like you’ve got competition with the library!” Morpheus glowered at his howling raven but didn’t respond. After all, Matthew was, naturally, correct. Could you love something other than books and the library?

Morpheus needed a book of dreams for his latest research. He could have Lucienne bring it to him, or he could go to the library and ask for it on the chance that you would be around and he could perhaps, make small talk. That is if you were so willing… Striding into the library, he found the endless halls quiet, more quiet than usual. 

“Lucienne?” Morpheus questioned, his eyes scanning the aisles for his head librarian. Morpheus appeared in the main study area and found you, sitting alone at a table. 

“Lord Morpheus,” You greeted ever so softly, your sweet voice lighting up the silent hall. Morpheus was glad to know that you were no longer addressing him as Dream. You rose to your feet. “If you are looking for Lucienne, I am afraid she is not in the library at the moment… is there anything I can help you with?” Morpheus eyed the book on the table, interrupting your reading was not something he wished to do. 

“I do not wish to interrupt your reading…” You, ever the saint, waved his words off immediately. 

“Nonsense, my lord, I am a librarian and I am here to help. Are you searching for a book? What is the title?” It would seem that you would not back down from your job. Morpheus expected nothing less, and couldn’t help the small smile that appeared. Your eyebrow raised in counter and you pushed for. “Well?” Your pushiness was much like Lucienne’s. 

“I am in need of a book of dreams, Robert Spencer,” Morpheus told you, his eyes watching as you immediately walked towards an aisle across the room. You disappeared into the fray and Morpheus sighed. Was this going to take up too much of your time? “I do not wish to drag you away from your reading Y/N…” Morpheus heard your echoing snort, and his eyebrow rose higher. It was nice to see, or at least hear, you more relaxed. “You seem to be very invested in your research…” Morpheus trailed off when he felt your presence behind him now.

“This is my job, my lord.” Morpheus turned in place, surprised at how well you could navigate the library. You held the book out to him another eyebrow raised in question. “Robert Spencer, book of dreams. Can I find another book for you, my lord?” Morpheus took the book from you, maintaining that precious eye contact as long as he could. He was surprised that your eyes didn’t drop to the floor in submission.

“No, that is all, thank you,” After Morpheus spoke you promptly sat back down in your seat and returned to your reading. Morpheus took this chance to spend a few last moments observing you. While you were indeed a timid and meek human, he could see that once he got to know you, you bloomed with passion. Just as he knew you did. He just had to give you the time you needed. 

Morpheus found that you liked to frequent the gardens at sunset, a ritual that signaled the end of your day. He had decided to seek you out this night. The setting sun's bright rays were highlighting your face in a gentle glow. Morpheus often wondered many things about the job you so loved. 

“Does it ever get monotonous?” He asked you from a few paces away. You turned back to him, your sparkling eyes meeting his. Morpheus went into further explanation. “Being a librarian, you are always shelving books, shifting them around, retrieving and returning.” He could see you considering and contemplating his words. 

“At times, sir,” You softly replied with a twitch of your lips. You were truthful in your words. “But at the same time, Lucienne and I get to read the books that appear and there is nothing like the excitement of a new book whose pages have not been turned.” Ah, Morpheus could understand that very well. You loved reading more than anything (he was planning on changing that), and the books that appeared daily gave you plenty to read. But it was still questionable if you were truly happy in Morpheus’s realm because you still jumped at every shadow. 

“Are you happy here, Y/N?” Morpheus questioned. You didn’t hesitate even a millisecond in your answer.

“More than happy, sir.” Your answer was reassuring and you addressing him as sir? A major improvement from Lord Dream. But Morpheus desired more, he desired you to be entirely relaxed with him. Comfortable enough to call him by his name, comfortable enough to smile confidently around him, comfortable enough to be his. Morpheus could get you there. He would get you there. With time. 

It was Matthew’s birthday and after speaking with Lucienne, Morpheus found that you were out in the market, shopping for ingredients to make the raven a birthday dinner. Morpheus hoped that he could spend some time with you out of the confined of the palace. Morpheus found himself wandering through the market, slowly moving through the crowd in the direction of your pull. You were in front of a stall that sold berries, and you were looking intently at the blackberries. 

“It seems that you are aware of Matthew’s love for blackberries,” Morpheus commented with a twitch of his lips. Of course, you would know of Matthew’s favorite snack. You had probably figured out all of Matthew’s favorites just for his birthday. You smiled brightly at Morpheus, already making the trip to the market well worth it. You bought two cases and slipped them into the basket at your hip. 

“We’ve been reminiscing about our favorite foods from when we were human,” You explained, maintaining your smile as you started moving in the direction of the palace. Morpheus stepped forward to fall into step beside you, his eyes taking in your relaxed and stress-free body. “Matthew’s second love after hotdogs is blackberries. He mentioned that his grandmother use to make this blackberry tart and he repeatedly got scolded for snacking on them.” 

“Then I suggest hiding them unless you wish Matthew to eat them all.” Morpheus couldn’t help but add a teasing note to his voice. You giggled softly at his words.

“Not to worry,” You replied, flashing a nearly blinding smile at Morpheus. That smile soaked into his heart like a warm blanket around a cold body. Morpheus would do anything to keep that smile on your face. “I don’t plan on letting Matthew know what I’m up to until everything is finished. He can gorge on the rest of the blackberries after I’ve finished the tart. As it turns out, his grandmother made a cookbook and her recipe is in the library. All I have to do is not mess it up and he should be a very happy raven.” 

Morpheus returned your infectious smile and leaned closer to you. 

“I am sure that he will appreciate the gesture regardless of how it turns out,” Morpheus told you as you looked up at him with those beautiful eyes of yours. They were so gentle and happy Morpheus would have frozen time if he could, just to hold onto this moment. Your eyes dropped forwards and you adjusted your grip on your basket. Then Morpheus felt curiosity run through your mind. You wanted to ask a question but were hesitant to do so. “You wish to ask me something?” Morpheus asked, hoping that you would feel comfortable enough to speak what you wished around him. Your eyes dropped to the cobbles beneath your feet and you slowly came to a stop. 

“I’m not sure if it's within my rights to ask,” Your words were infinitely soft, indicating just how unsure you were of your question. Morpheus couldn’t have a lapse in confidence when he had struggled to build it up.

“And if I inquired you of your question… regardless of its nature, will you ask me?” Morpheus prompted, hoping that you would be inclined to air your question. Your eyes lifted to look at him once more. Resolve burned in your breathtaking ones. 

“Do Endless need to eat? Or is it a needless task that you only partake in when you feel so?” You asked. Morpheus wasn’t expecting a question as mundane as consuming sustenance… when you felt so unsure. Morpheus raised his eyebrow at you as his lips twitched in humor. All that worry over something so simple? He had much work still ahead of him to mitigate your nervous nature. 

“We do not experience hunger, nor do we need sustenance to maintain life… but my siblings occasionally consume human food,” Morpheus explained gently, hoping that he was sating your curiosity and would put ease in your body once more. “Death is partial to the street food in her travels to complete her job.” Morpheus was delighted to see your curiosity take the front where worry had reigned. 

“When was the last time you ate something?” You pushed on, excitement dancing within your eyes. “Is it something you enjoy? Or does it not really cross your mind because you don’t need to eat?” Morpheus’s head tilted in consideration. He couldn’t remember the last time he partook in human food. 

“It has probably been centuries since I last consumed human food and… no, I suppose I do not really think about eating since it is not necessary to sustain my life. You do not need to consume subsistence and yet you still partake.” Morpheus pointed out, interested in learning why you still continued with the practice. 

“I think it is out of habit, and I enjoy eating…” You paused and it was clear that you were thinking of your answer. 

“I can see why you don’t. It’s not something that is necessary. Though I do think you are missing out on the beautiful produce here in the village. They taste extraordinary.” You wished for him to enjoy the fruits of his people’s labors? For you, he would do anything and this was more than a simple task that was sure to put a blinding smile on your face. 

“If it will please my librarian, I should think I could try one,” Morpheus told you, loving the way your face lit up. You reached into your basket to grab one of the produce you had bought. Then, you presented him with an apple. Morpheus felt every molecule in his being freeze. Were you really asking such a thing? After struggling with confidence for this long? You seemed to sense his hesitation and started retracting your hand. You must have taken his reaction as a no. 

“If you don’t like apples, I can—“ Morpheus reached out to wrap his fingers around yours, stopping you from taking back your offering. Your body stiffened and he felt your fingers tremble slightly beneath his. “Morpheus?” Morpheus lifted his eyes to yours when you called his name. Just his name. It was serendipitous and everything he had wanted these past few weeks. Morpheus took the apple from your hands, staring at it with wonder and reverence.

“No, I— like apples.” Morpheus softly answered, cradling the apple to his chest. It would be his greatest treasure, given to him by you after you had selected it yourself. He would preserve it for all eternity in reminder. Morpheus looked into your eyes and saw confusion. Were you still worried that he would reject you? “I will treasure this apple, thank you, Y/N.” Relief flooded your features and that blinding smile reappeared. Morpheus felt instant relief. 

“Good! I should probably hurry back to the palace,” You then replied, tapping your basket and looking forwards at the palace. “I need to get dinner on before Matthew catches me with the blackberries.” Morpheus smiled down at you in, glad to see such a happy soaked smile on your lips once more and elated that you wished to be his.

“Shall I escort you to your destination to ensure that my raven does not catch sight of your treasure?” Morpheus playfully offered. Your proceeding laugh was like bells. 

“I would appreciate that, thank you.” Morpheus was pleased to have the pleasure of walking his betrothed back to the palace for what would hopefully, be the first of many.

Matthew’s birthday had passed and Morpheus had found it amusing that his raven had eaten himself nearly sick on the extra blackberries you had. He was more than pleased to see that you had been ever so happy with how your cooking had turned out. Morpheus was quickly learning that you had passions outside of the library, cooking being one of them. He would eat whatever you made if it put that lovely smile on your face.

At the moment, Morpheus was making his way to the garden where you liked to sit and watch the sunset. It was a colder day, this day. Morpheus had wanted to give you and the residents of The Dreaming tastes of The Waking World with seasonal weather. The look on your face when the trees had started to turn color was one that he would give anything to see time and time again. 

Exiting the palace, Morpheus quietly weaved through the carefully maintained gardens Mervyn was very proud of and spotted you on your favorite bench. You were practically glowing in the sunset and it would have been quite a sight if Morpheus had not seen you shiver and tremble in cold. You loved the changing season but you were ill-equipped to handle the temperature. Morpheus was removing his coat immediately as he silently walked up to you. When he reached your shivering frame, he gently laid the shimmering material around your shoulders, willing it to protect you from the cold. Your eyes lifted to his and your fingers reached to remove the coat. Morpheus stopped you. 

“I believe you are in greater need of my jacket than I, Y/N,” Morpheus spoke gently before walking from behind you and standing in front of the bench. He gestured to the space next to you, hoping to join you for a moment of intimacy. “May I?” Your eyes sparkled before you countered.

“It’s your bench, Morpheus.” Morpheus returned the teasing smirk your lips were curved into. 

“And yet you are the one it cradles,” He spoke, enjoying the way you rolled your eyes at him and gestured to the space. 

“Please do,” Morpheus took a seat next to you and watched as you pulled his jacket closer to your skin, a barely there sigh of contentment passing through your lips. The rays of sunset lit up your face and your eyes squinted. “Does it ever get overwhelming? Feeling everything, that is. Experiencing so many dreams… you carry the emotions of all life in the universe on your shoulders, how do you not get encompassed by it?” Morpheus smiled at you, his eyes never once leaving your radiating face that shimmered with happiness. 

“Practice,” He responded, glad that your eyes turned to his once more. You had never looked more ethereal than in this instance, your face illuminated by shimmering dying light. There was another gust of wind and your hair was picked up and tossed about, covering your face. Morpheus reached up to brush the strands clear, his fingers briefly brushing against yours. He couldn’t help but trail his fingers across the arch of your cheek, marveling at the softness of your skin. “I’ve had eons to do so, and yet, I still find myself learning something new.” You stared at him, your attention no longer on the dying sunset. Morpheus’s adoration for you only grew the longer your gaze remained connected with his. 

Morpheus knew that you were overworking yourself to get Lucienne out of the library. He wished he could tell you to stop working so much but knew better than to get in the way of his little librarian and betrothed. That would only end up with you being mad at him. So he would let you work until you fell asleep on your own volition, then he would bring you to your home to get proper rest in your bed. He’d done this a few times before, and tonight it would be no different. 

You were once again passed out at the table, face pressed against the book you had been reading and hand next to your head, pen rolled not that far away. He carefully gathered you into his arms and cradled you gently as you shifted in his arms. Morpheus had long since found that you liked to snuggle closer when he held you, choosing to press your face against his neck while draping your arm over his shoulder. You liked to be close and he enjoyed every second of it. Morpheus was especially partial to the soft exhales he could feel on his neck. Your breaths were like a gentle tickle against his skin, something only he would ever experience. 

Sand swirled around his and your bodies, swiftly taking you to your cottage in the village. You didn’t spend that much time in it, most of your time is spent in the palace… but Morpheus knew that you liked to have something to call your own. It was your little slice of heaven Morpheus was more than willing to give you. He’d give you the entire realm if you asked of it. But you never would. You were happy with what you had.

Morpheus carried you to your small bedroom and tucked you away, already feeling the loss of your touch and breath from his skin. But he couldn’t bear to ruin your idyllic dreamscape by moving you once more. He trailed his fingers along your skin, relishing the last touches of contact.

“Sweet dreams, my beloved,” Morpheus whispered to you, his words slipping into your dreams with a gentle caress. You sank deeper into your mattress with a satisfied sigh. 

Morpheus had sent Matthew out to check on you after you had remained in your cottage for three straight days, not once returning to the palace. Something terrible must have happened for you to have neglected the library you loved so much. It was agony waiting to hear back from Matthew, but he would give you your privacy this time. His betrothed deserved that much. 

Matthew swooped into the throne room and coasted over to where Morpheus sat. Well, he was pouting that his beloved had been absent for three days but he was not going to admit that. Looking down at his Raven, Morpheus gave Matthew an expectant look and raised his eyebrow. Matthew fluttered his wings. 

“Well, sir, I believe that she realized that she asked you to marry her and is currently drowning in embarrassment,” Matthew explained, the raven would have shrugged his shoulders if he had them. Embarrassment? What did his beloved have to be embarrassed by? He had accepted her offer and had he not taken care of her these past few weeks as it was now his duty as her betrothed? “She says she’s just a librarian, I think she doesn’t feel adequate to marry you.”

Morpheus didn’t like that, he didn’t like that at all. 

“I have accepted her proposal and will refuse anyone else,” Morpheus stated his lip curling. “And should anyone think to consider otherwise I will rectify that immediately.” Matthew bobbed his head in agreement. He would have loved to point out that you had no idea what it meant to hand him an apple… but Matthew, along with everyone else in the palace, had been waiting for you and Morpheus to get together. He wasn’t going to ruin this. 

“You have to remember, sir,” Matthew added, making Morpheus look at him. “She struggles with confidence and probably worries about what the realm will think.” 

“She should not, it is my decision on who I take as my queen is it not?” 

“Tell her that, sir,” Matthew replied. “She probably needs more reassurance than the average woman.” Morpheus nodded in agreement. You would need more reassurance, he should have known that. Morpheus looked up to the archway that would lead out of the palace. 

“Perhaps I should visit her and mitigate her fears?” Morpheus spoke. 

“No, no, I think she just needs some time, she looked really tired,” Matthew said, knowing that you would probably get worse if Morpheus appeared before you now. You needed time. “Can I speak freely sir?” 

“Of course,” Morpheus replied. 

“I think she is scared,” Morpheus narrowed his eyes at Matthew and the bird was scrambling to explain his words. “I— I mean I don’t think she entirely thought about what she was doing when she handed you that apple. Maybe she didn’t fully realize what it meant and she’s overwhelmed? You have to remember sir, she’s human from the modern age.” 

Two days had passed since Morpheus had sent his raven to check on you. Two days in which he knew you needed for appropriate rest. Two days in which he knew you had not slept. When you should have been getting better and ready to return to your normal duties, you had been spiraling into an exhaustive state. Morpheus couldn’t stand it any longer and had set out to visit you in person. Your cottage was on the outskirts of town and walking up to your front door, Morpheus knocked. 

Seconds passed in eternity, and finally, the door was opened a crack revealing you shakily holding a coffee cup. Morpheus caught sight of your red and fatigued eyes. You looked exhausted and near moments from fainting in a slump of sleep. 

“Y/N,” Morpheus called, his eyes running everywhere and taking in your appearance and not liking that you hadn’t been taking care of yourself. “May I come in, or is this a bad time?”

Your eyelids fluttered at him and you silently stuffed to the side, opening the door wider to let Morpheus into your cottage. Morpheus stepped into your cottage and shut the door behind himself. Then he saw you going to take a sip of the coffee and intercepted you, plucking the coffee from your hands.

“I doubt you need caffeine right now.” You let him take it and gave the caffeinated drink a mournful look as he set it down on the nearby table. 

“I was going to drink that,” Your voice echoed the physical exhaustion on your features. Morpheus looked down into your face as he softly snorted. Then he reached up to caress your cheek gently. 

“You need sleep, not caffeine.” Morpheus corrected you gently, he gently brushed the clear bags beneath your eyes. “Why have you not properly rested.” Your gaze averted from his.

“I haven’t been able to sleep,” Your voice was scratchy as you started to sway in place. “I apologize for my absence, sir, I’ll be back at the library as soon as I can.” You went to rub your eyes and Morpheus stopped you, maintaining his grasp on your hand.

“I am not here to question your absence from the palace, Y/N, I am here… because I fear that I have chased off my beloved librarian.” Your face didn’t change at his words and Morpheus raised his other hand to cradle your face. 

“I’m just a human.” You weakly protested, leaning forwards and pressing your face into his chest. Morpheus was quick to wrap an arm around your back and hold you close to his body. You were seconds away from falling asleep. 

“Perhaps, but you are my human,” Morpheus replied gently, maneuvering his arms around your body to pick up your body and cradle you further against his chest. “And my human needs to sleep.” You went to protest.

“But— but—” Your short protest was weak and sputtered out. 

“Y/N, we will talk later,” Morpheus spoke into your ear, nuzzling his face against your unkept hair against your messy, and matted hair. “I wish for you to rest.”

“But we need to talk...” You didn’t get to finish your protest before you were fast asleep in his arms. Cradling your body in his arms, Morpheus looked to your bedroom. He could place you in your bed and tuck you away to sleep… but there was no guarantee that you would stay asleep until your body was fully recharged. No, rather than place you in your bed as he had before, he chose to transport you both to the palace and bring you to the queen's wing he had specially made for you to occupy when you married him. He would be able to watch over you there, ensuring that his future queen was properly resting. 

You had been a flustered mess when you had woken up, and Morpheus, overtaken by your adorableness, couldn’t help but steal his first kiss from your lips. You had frozen in place shortly before heat burned across your cheeks and you started slapping him on the chest with an embarrassed squeal. Softly chuckling in amusement, Morpheus brushed his fingers over your hair once more before bending down and resting his forehead against yours. 

“Do you feel better now, my dream?” He questioned, his fingertips lingering over the skin beneath your eyes where bags had once been prevalent. You nodded though your cheeks still felt like they were on fire. 

“Are you really okay with this?” You whispered in question, eyes dropping down. “I’m not confident, I’m not a goddess or a muse… I’m no one. Surely there would be a better choice.” Morpheus took hold of your face and made you look into his eyes. 

“Y/N, I will have no one but you by my side… and what you are is my beloved, that is all you ever need to be,” Morpheus told you with conviction. You stared back at him with uncertainty in your eyes… but only for a few moments. Something in your mind changed.

“Morpheus?” You asked softly. Morpheus's lips twitched in a smile. 

“Yes, my dream?” 

“Can you kiss me again?” You asked. Morpheus, in that very moment, decided that you should never have to ask for such a thing again. Then he gave exactly what you asked for, pressing his lips against yours with the hunger he had felt growing within him since you had first offered that apple. 

Date Published: 10/6/22

Last Edit: 10/6/22

An Offered Apple | Masterlist | An Innocent Apple

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Drunk Confessions Part 2

Minho x Female reader

Word count: 1.9K

Synopsis: What happens when you drunk dial the wrong person and confess your love for Minho

Warnings 18+ ONLY MDNI! Cursing/strong language, unprotected piv sex, cream pie. That's it this one is kind of soft. If by chance I did miss something that should be added please let me know and I will add it asap!

You were lying in bed after a night out drinking with girlfriends. Your mind was a swirl of emotions and alcohol after thinking about your crush Minho and having way too many apple pie shots.

The shots were so good though and went down so easily and apparently you did too after about eight of them. Your friends had to drag you up to your apartment, one of them just crashing on your couch. You needed to talk, to vent, but you didn’t want to wake her. You’d been enough trouble for her for one night. 

You decided to call Jisung and get some of this out of you, he would listen to you vent about your stupid crush as long as you needed him to. You needed a Jisung vent session asap. You grabbed your phone, not paying attention to what time it was, and squinted at it, tapping at the screen until you heard ringing. 

 It was 3am when Minho’s phone rang. He squinted and saw your contact photo on his screen and answered immediately worried there might be an emergency. It wasn’t like you to call him so late. 

“Y/n? Hello?” You snickered and let out a sigh. 

“Youuu sounded like Minho jus now Sungie.” Oh you were way drunk. 

“Y/n it is-” You cut him off. 

“Jisung I love ‘im somuch I’m you sound like him. You know only you can know though so shhhh don’t tell Minho.” He couldn’t help but laugh, endeared by your drunken state. 

“I won’t tell him. Don’t worry.” You giggled again. 

“I know Sungie. Do you think he has any idea?” Minho hummed. 

“I think he might have a clue.” You sighed heavily. 

“Then why’s he so unavailable? He doesn’t like me back?” He disagreed. 

“Hmm no I think he does, I think he only realized recently that you feel the same way he does.” You let out a dreamy sigh. 

“You really think that Sungie? You think he loves me too?” 

“Yes I do.” Minho confessed. 

“Why don’t you get some rest and we’ll talk tomorrow.” You hummed already half asleep on the phone with him. 

“Kay Sungs. Loooove you!” Minho laughed. 

“I love you too.” The next morning your friend that crashed over woke you to let you know she was leaving and you decided to get up and make some coffee to try and combat the hangover that was setting in. As soon as you took that first soul wakening sip of that black gold you heard a knock on your door. Assuming it was your friend who left something you shouted to come in and low and behold Minho came walking into the kitchen. 

“OH! Min, I thought it was Addy coming back. What are you doing here?” He smirked at you. 

“I thought you might want to discuss our conversation from last night a bit more thoroughly.” You were confused. 

“Have you officially lost it Min, we didn’t talk last night. I drunk dialed Jisung and then crashed hard.” He was chuckling very amused. 

“No you drunk dialed me thinking it was Jisung. Go on look at your call log.” You grabbed your phone and opened it and sure enough the last phone call out was not Jisung but Minho. 

“Oh.” You were leaning against your counter and Minho walked towards you, placing a hand on the counter on each side of you effectively trapping you. 

“Yes oh indeed. You said some things last night that I feel like you should have been sharing with me instead of Jisung.” You tried to play stupid, like you didn’t remember anything, even though you knew it was pointless. 

“Did I? Funny, what did I say.” He raised one of his sharp eyebrows at you. 

“You know.” You shook your head no. 

“You knooow...” He repeated, you stood there silent refusing to admit it out loud. 

“You like me no no you looooooove me.” He poked your nose and continued in a sing song voice. 

“You loooove me, you L.O.V.E. meee-” You got upset. 

“Don’t tease me! It’s not nice to tease someone because they have a crush.” You pushed him away and stormed off. Minho followed and gently grabbed you by the hand stopping you. You pulled your hand away mad. 

“You let a person down gently when you don’t like them back Min you don’t boop their nose and tease them.” Minho shook his head. 

“Don’t like you ba- did you listen to anything Jisung, well I, said last night?” You stopped and thought. You really didn’t remember everything. You had been tired. 

“I told you that I liked you too y/n. That I love you too.” Your heart skipped a beat hearing those words come from those beautiful lips. Minho stepped closer, leaned in and kissed you. His pouty lips softly pressing against yours. He pulled a breath away. 

“I love you y/n.” Your eyes got big and teary. 

“I love you too Min.” He kissed you again and you both broke the kiss laughing. 

“Sooo does this make you my girlfriend now?” You smiled ear to ear hearing him call you that and nodded. 

“I think so...” He smiled too. 

“Good can I take my girlfriend on a date tonight?” 

“Of course, I’d love to go out with you tonight Min.” He raised that eyebrow again. 

“Not too hung over.” You shook your head. 

“Never.”  

“Then be ready at 7 beautiful I’ll be here to pick you up for dinner and we’ll skip drinks.” You laughed agreeing. He kissed you one more time and left you to go about your day and get ready.  

At 7 Minho picked you up and took you out for burgers and fries at your favorite diner. You went for a walk by the river and then he drove you home. He’d been a perfect gentleman the entire night but still his regular Minho self.

You stood at your open door and just as Minho was about to say something you kissed him. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders and your lips parted, your tongue invading his mouth. Minho gripped your hips and kissed you back. It was so intense, hearts racing, blood boiling.

Minho unapologetically lit your whole body on fire when he touched you, kissed you. When you both broke the kiss to breathe you laughed, your foreheads pressed together.  

“You know what’s the great thing about the first date with someone you’ve known a long time?” You asked and he shook his head. You leaned in to Minho’s ear. 

“If you want, you can fuck guilt free.” He looked at you, his eyebrows raised and a smirk plastered on his face. 

“Is that so.” You nodded. 

“Mhmm.” Minho was just about to say something else but you pulled the lapels of his jacket kissing him, backing into your apartment, pulling him with you. 

“I like a girl who’s not afraid to take control...” Minho suddenly kicked the door closed and pushed you against the wall. 

“But don’t be fooled into thinking I’ll just let you.” He kissed you hard and bit your lip teasing you. His lips and teeth trailed down your neck. 

“Fuck, Min, please don’t tease me.” He groaned. 

“Ughh, teasing is the best part.” His lips ghosted across your skin and you got goosebumps. 

“Not tonight please, just need you.” You grabbed his face and kissed him. 

“Take me to bed.” You jumped wrapping your legs around Minho’s body. He caught you his hands firmly holding you up by your ass. 

“Make me yours Min.” You kissed him again. Minho carried you to your room, set you down on your feet and spun you so your back was facing him. He slapped your ass. 

“Go on then, get those clothes off beautiful.” You rubbed the spot on your ass and smirked at him before stripping your clothes while he removed his own. Minho climbed on your bed, sat against your head board and patted his lap. 

“Come on then, here’s your seat.” You giggled and climbed over crawling up his legs and sitting on his lap. His hand trailed down your cheek. 

“Hey beautiful.” You got a little shy suddenly, sitting there naked on Minho’s lap him looking at you like that, like the only thing in the room, the only thing in the world. 

“Hey.” He held your face and kissed you. 

“You good?” You nodded biting your lips and Minho smiled. 

“Good.” You kissed him again, deeper. You made out on his lap for a little while and once you couldn’t take having only his lips you positioned yourself over his cock and sank down on him. 

“FUCK!” Minho gripped your hips once he was fully inside you. 

“Give me just a second there beautiful, fuck!” Minho didn’t realize how good it would feel inside you and he needed just a minute or he might blow way too soon leaving you very not satisfied and he couldn’t do that.

You did as Minho asked and gave him a moment. You were in no hurry. Finally, after a minute of willing his balls to calm the fuck down, Minho gave you the signal that you could start moving. When you did he felt amazing inside you. 

“God Min, you feel so good.” You started a rhythm riding him, gripping his shoulders for support. Minho just held your hips and let you go, watching you take what you wanted was such a turn on for him. 

“Such a good girl, ride me so well, feels unreal.” You smiled and leaned in to kiss him more while you continued to chase your orgasm that was approaching quickly. 

“I’m... god I’m gonna cum!” Minho just held you not wanting to mess up the rhythm you had. 

“Take it jagi yea? Cum for me.” You wrapped your arms around him tightly and held on as waves of ecstasy washed over your whole body. 

“Yesyesyesyes! God fuck yes Minho!” You finally sat still in his lap shaking from your orgasm and kissed slowly, passionately. Minho moved putting you on your back taking his place between your legs.  

“You really are so beautiful.” You started blushing. 

“I love you Minho.” He leaned down and kissed you. 

“I love you too.” He kissed you again and this time he sank into you. He wrapped one of your legs around his waist and pushed in deeper. 

“FUCK! YES!” Hearing you lit Minho’s fire and he started to fuck you harder. 

“So good god yes! So beautiful, my gorgeous jagiya!” You held on for dear life as Minho fucked you. 

“Min please, cum for me please.” He groaned and rested his forehead in the crook of your neck. You thread your fingers through the hair at his nape and whispered in his ear. 

“Cum. For me. Cum for me Minho. I’m yours.” He moaned and pushed deep inside you as he came. 

“Yes, fuck, so soft, so warm.” He laid down on top of you and you traced your fingers up and down his back as you both came down. After a moment he took a deep breath and rolled off of you and pulling you over onto him. You rested your head against his chest and listened to his steady heart beat as it lulled you to sleep. 

“I’m glad I drunk dialed you last night instead of Jisung.” You said half asleep out of nowhere. You nuzzled in on the edge of passing out entirely. 

“Me too beautiful,” Minho chuckled. 

“Me too.” 

Please do not repost or translate any of my works. My blog and stories are NSFW and 18+ ONLY! Minors, ageless, and blank blogs will be blocked!

[crumb]

the NO-SKIP albums: a tag game 🎶💖

rules: share the albums that you can listen to nonstop. those lightning in a bottle-albums that scratch ur brain just right. every single track, an absolute banger. u could not skip one if u tried. no notes. stunning, show-stopping, immaculate. ur no-skip albums.

🔎 bonus & optional (but imo, v fun) rules: 1) add a track rec for us to listen to! AND 2) share ur favorite line(s) from that track! 👀

This was so hard!! There are so so so many albums not included but I think 15 albums is enough to where I look crazy but not tooooo crazy (doubtful) and I wanted to make it somewhat varied genre-wise. A lot of these artists have like multiple no-skip albums as well so picking between them was extra difficult—on some I went with the underrated favourite of mine to mix it up. I don't know! It's kinda all over the place. Thank you so much to @ventiswampwater, @visceravalentines, @avrilsboy, & @actualfucking for tagging me!!! 🥹 I think there were a few others who tagged me but then removed my tag, probably because they saw I was tagged by others lol, so thank you to those ppl too!!<333

Tagging: @xoxo-gossipghoul (& anyone else! I think most people have done this at this point? But if you’re reading this and haven’t been tagged yet then this is me tagging you!!! lol) Album List & Track Rec:

🏴 Damaged — Black Flag (1981)

track rec: Police Story

↳ This fucking city / Is run by pigs / They take the rights away / From all the kids

🪑 Songs from The Big Chair — Tears for Fears (1985)

track rec: Mothers Talk

↳ It's not that you're not good enough / It's just that we can make you better / Given that you pay the price / We can keep you young and tender / Following the footsteps of a funeral pyre / You were paid not to listen now your house is on fire

💀 Collection I & II — Misfits (1986/1995)

track rec: Mommy, Can I Go Out and Kill Tonight?

↳ Rip the veins from human necks until they're wet with life / Razor-blades love teenage flesh, an epidermoty / I'll bring back a souvenir, for it's my mommy's dream

🍊 No Doubt — No Doubt (1992)

track rec: Trapped in a Box

↳ Ah trapped in a box my life becomes void / And all of the thought for myself's now destroyed / Controlling my mind, what to eat, what to buy / Subliminal rules: how to live, how to die / Trapped in a box

🌙 Dreaming of You — Selena (1995)

track rec: God’s Child (Baila Conmigo) (Ft. David Byrne)

↳ God makes us dream / But won't set us free / Hey, hey, hey, hey / God calls us dance to songs we can't hear / Hey, hey, hey, hey

🌊 Tidal — Fiona Apple (1996)

track rec: Sullen Girl

↳ And there's too much going on / But it's calm under the waves in the blue of my oblivion / Under the waves in the blue of my oblivion

🦷 The Distillers — The Distillers (2000)

track rec: Red Carpet & Rebellion

↳ The palace dialed in the streets were burning / The red horizon came crashing through the morning / There was no contentment, only bloodshed / Red blood and social discontent / Bruised by puritan, oh, puritan exempt / It's like a peasant uprising

🦋 Greatest Hits — Mariah Carey (2001)

track rec: When You Believe (Mariah Carey & Whitney Houston)

↳ They don't always happen when you ask / And it's easy to give in to your fears / But when you're blinded by your pain / Can't see your way clear through the rain / A small but still, resilient voice / Says hope is very near

😈 Antics — Interpol (2004)

track rec: Not Even Jail

↳ I pretend like no one else to try control myself / I'm subtle like a lion's cage / Such a cautious display / Remember take hold of your time here / Give some meanings to the means / To your end / Not even jail

🌆 The City Sleeps in Flames — Scary Kids Scaring Kids (2005)

track rec: The World as We Know It

↳ A virus known as rage / Is brutal in destroying / And spreading all over the place / Bleeding culture / The dying nation / When the money controls the tide / We won't get another chance this time / We won't get a second chance this time

🎺 Back to Black — Amy Winehouse (2006)

track rec: Some Unholy War

↳ If my man was fightin' some unholy war / I would be behind him / Straight shook up beside him with strength / He didn't know, it's you I'm fightin' for / He can't lose with me in tow (With me in tow) / I refuse to let him go (To let him go) / At his side and drunk on pride / We wait for the blow

🎸 Favourite Worst Nightmare — Arctic Monkeys (2007)

track rec: Teddy Picker

↳ And it's the thousandth time that it's even bolder / Don't be surprised when you get bent over / They told you, but you were gaggin' for it

3️⃣ Three Vol. 1 — Joel Plaskett (2009)

track rec: Gone, Gone, Gone

↳ In the middle of a lonely night / Got caught in the hallway light / For a minute you were gettin' close / I suspect I've seen a ghost / In the middle of a highway dream / You got caught in the headlight beam / Down the road with your tired eyes / Good old boys with your old goodbyes

🫙 Ignore the Ignorant — The Cribs (2009)

track rec: Emasculate Me

↳ Spent all this time chasing happy / But happy is boring to me / So put walls around our misery / And gently emasculate me

🧱 Brutalism — IDLES (2018)

track rec: Exeter

↳ It seems like no-one cares / I think I'll take the stairs / 'Cause nothing ever / He punched himself in the face / To prove he wasn't gay / 'Cause nothing ever happens

[aldryrththerainbowheart]

Hello! This is my first time making a ask so sorry if it's wrong!

Can you please make a Dante x reader scenario from the event? With the "Fall-Mark AU" prompt? Thanks :)

Aaaah yeeeessss!! I hoped I'll get the Fall-Mark Au ask!

A crisp cool wind blew through the bustling square, taking a few golden leaves lying on the sidewalk. The place was swarming with people moving from one stand to the next. Children were trying to hide behind decorative haystacks while their parents picked the labors of this year's autumn harvest, proudly displayed in neat wads or in straw baskets. Every now and then, the air was saturated by the strong aroma of hot punch and freshly baked pretzels.

This October morning looked straight up from the shoot of Gilmore Girls and you were currently preoccupied with colorful rows of herbs and spices.

"I'll take these small bags of cinnamon, ginger, cloves, and uh..." You racked your brain what other spices belong to pumpkin spice mix, you already have allspice at home, so that leaves... "Cloves!"

The old lady behind the stand in a patterned poncho and thick fingerless gloves placed all of the ingredients in the bag and handed it to you. As you were paying, you noticed a can with pizza spice mix, "Ah, that reminds me, Dante...Dante?"

You looked next to you, a place that was occupied by your boyfriend not so long ago was now empty. He was gone, with all of your previous purchases from the other stands you visited. You looked around when you caught a flash of red near a street lamp. You ran towards Dante when you noticed he was swarmed by two olden retrievers.

"You two are the best bois. I'm taking you home with me." He grinned at the dogs as they licked his hands affectionately.

The sight made the biggest smile grow on your face. You really can't be mad at this goofball.

"I think one of them is a girl," you replied to him.

Dante peered up at you, and his smile grew even wider.

"You think so?"

"Hm. She has a pink collar."

"Guys can wear pink too!" Dante prompted as he picked up the shopping bags sitting next to him.

"You mean that t-shirt with a unicorn that says, alpha male?" You smirked as you both set out to the next stand, finding your way into the crowd of windbreakers.

Dante shrugged, "I bought it for the irony, then found out I rock the color pretty hard."

"You rock every color babe. I heard there'd be a place where you can make your own pizza, choose the toppings and everything."

"Well then! Lead the way."

Some browsing through the market later, Dante bit into his pepperoni-ham-beef-sausage pizza with gusto as you watched the slaughter on the pizza dough in amusement.

"So, what's the next thing on that list of yours?"

You pulled out the hands-scribbled note of places you wanted to visit you made at home and put it next to your own order, the biggest cinnamon bun you've ever seen and a cup of coffee.

"Let's see we've got veggies, sweets, pastries, decor - oh, that wrath I got will look great on the front door - spices, pizza..."

"That ugly-ass knitted scarf Vergil wanted."

"Right..." Your eyes got to the end of this list and you felt excitement bubble up in your chest.

"Now to the best part..." you thrust the list right in front of Dante. Whilst he tried to squint at the letters you beamed giddily, "Pumpkin picking!"

"Ah, yes," Dante rubbed his hands in a devilish grin. "Let's put the little twist on it, shall we?" He made a dramatic pause, "Whoever finds the ugliest, most deformed pumpkin wins."

"Just look inside your pants luv," you quipped.

With cackling laughter, Dante chucked pepperoni at you.

"Alright, alright, what's the prize?" You conseded as you tried to fish the food out of your hair.

"Uhh, apple on a stick?"

"Deal."

Dante wolfed down the rest of the pizza and soon you were prowling the rows of perfect round, plump, bright orange pumkins from which none looked too bad, not bad enough for you at least.

"Any luck?" You came towards Dante as he was scounting the nearest patch of pumpkins.

"Nah. How 'bout you?"

"Nothing."

"Dang!" Dante but his hands on his hipsand looked over the entire patch once more "Don't tell me this place is filled with nothing but postcard-looking pumpkins."

You tugged on his sleeve, "Let's just pick whatever and call it a draw. I boy both of us caramelized apples."

Dante didn't answered you, instead he kept his trained gaze on the rows of vegetables before his pensive frown split into a grin.

"Look over there." He nodded with his chin.

"Wha-oh..."

"That's him."

"Yep."

The pumpkin looked like someone dropped it, but upon closer inspection one would notice that that's just the way it grew. Half of it was green, covered in bumps and lumps. Dante lovingly wrapped it in scarf Vergil requested and had to reassure the poor farmer that that's really the pumpkin you wanted.

When you arrived home with all of your purchases, the other twin was waiting for you in the office.

"Welcome ba- what in the sweet mother of Satan is this??"

Dante proudly raised pumpkin right in front of Vergils nose.

"His name is Shmoopy and he's got every disease."

[bbitess]

fumbled prt 2- chris x f!reader

part 1 here

enemies to lovers‼️ she goes back to his house

warnings‼️ drug use, mostly fluff :)

i woke up in a shitty holiday inn, slightly confused. i sit up and try to recall the details of last night. chris was back, and i am battling conflicting feelings; did i want him to go, or did i really want him back?

i look over to the second bed, i see chris’s shoe and the bed undone. where was he? i looked at the clock, shit it was already ten.

i flop back onto the pillow and put my hands over my face. i needed to go to the recording studio in a couple hours. i attempted to think up ideas but my train of thought was cut short by the bathroom door opening and chris walking out. my eyes came into focus as i looked at him, he had a towel wrapped loosely around his hips, a thin happy trail lead down to his v-line; slightly exposed. his smooth chest, wet and his hair dripping around his features.

damn. he grew up. i kept my hands over my cheeks, to cover the obvious blush. “morning, sunshine,” he said in a deep voice which makes my ears perk up. i missed him- my senses missed him- my body missed him. i had always wondered what he would look like five years older and without a shirt, and now i know i can never forget just, damn.

i was so flustered, i had no clue what to say. i just groaned as i rotated in bed to obstruct him from my gaze. my tummy tingled and swirled in a knot.

i got ready and chris insisted on driving. i was a little hesitant but agreed since it seemed like a nice gesture. as we were going to the studio, we didn’t talk, the stereo softly playing nirvana.

“did you pay for that hotel last night, chris?” i asked, he just nodded, without moving his eyes from the road. i still looked at him, his stunning profile and bobbing adam’s apple, every time he swallowed. he must be a little nervous, his gaze still locked in front of him. “thank you chris, you really didn’t have to.” i insisted, i usually sleep in the car. “it’s the least i could do darlin’, it’s okay- you are pretty when you sleep.”

wow. the knot reformed in my stomach as i tried to steady my breath, i couldn’t let him know that affected me. he called me darlin’, he hasn’t called me that since high school. i laugh, but it accidentally sounded more like a giggle. “oh please, i don’t hold a candle to you, chris.”

i meant for it to be sarcastic, to blow off steam, but it sounded more flirtatious then intended. he looks over at me- finally, his lips parted and head tilted. a small smile etches onto his face in the short few seconds his bright eyes meet mine. damn those eyes, they pull me in every time, but not this time, no- i’m not getting my hopes up ever again.

we got to the studio and set up, we had a couple hours to play. it was crazy hearing chris play again after all this time. i never thought this could ever happen.

after the time went by, chris and i had become more familiar again, starting to feel like the old days. we sat next to each other writing tabs or lyrics. we went back to the hotel and packed our things, i knew i should probably go back to my apartment.

chris and i checked out and walked out to our cars, it was a bit chilly, the clouds covered the sun. “thanks for giving me a chance.” he said, placing his hand on my shoulder and looking down at me. i can’t believe this was happening again.

“yeah chris, thanks for paying for the hotel.”

“yeah,” he removes is hand and fidgets with his fingers, looking at his shoes. “so do you think you would let me play for you sometime?” his eyes looked up and slowly met mine. i smiled softly, “sure… it wasn’t completely unbearable.” chris laughs, it sounded like music, better than we could make with instruments. my mind wandered to the other kinds of music we could make together…

we were still looking at eachother, our eyes locked, waiting for the other to do something. the time felt like it moved slow, i watched his eyes quickly flash between my eyes, even my lips.

“do you want to see claude?” chris questioned. i didn’t want to say yes, i didn’t want to get as comfortable as i was before, i didn’t want to intrude.

“yes” he beamed, “but i dont have to, it’s okay.”

he was already walking to his side of the car, “please, you are always welcome at my house, darlin’.” he said- flashing me a flirty smile- before getting in and starting the engine. i contained my bubbling excitement, not only from chris but from myself, as i tried not to think and just go to an old neighbors house.

when we pulled up, i got hit with a wave of nostalgia and deja vu. it felt so close and so far away. it looked the same and chris got out of the car, swiftly coming to open my door for me. i thanked him and he hurried to the door and watched me intently as i got out and looked at the house.

chris walked to the door and opened it for me to enter. when we went inside, it was even stranger, it was different. i looked around at the new furniture and appliances. i saw chris and claude’s graduation photos hung on the fridge, held up with a magnet from some foreign capital they must have vacationed to. i wondered about all they had done when i was away.

“come on.” chris urges, waving his hand for me to follow him to the second floor, where the boys bedrooms were. chris knocked on his brothers bedroom door, i stood beside him.

claude answers the door, already rolling his eyes at chris. “yes,” he said with annoyance. but then he noticed me standing beside his brother. “how the fuck did she get here?” he questions.

“wow, what a welcoming thing to say, claude.”

chris pushed past him, “hey!” claude yelled, but allowed us to enter, closing the door behind us. “do you have any weed?” chris asked claude.

“no.”

“liar.”

claude stayed silent. chris persisted, “come on give it up, i know you want to smoke a bowl all together again.” i watched claude roll his eyes another time. he surrendered, “everything you need is in that dresser,” he pointed, “bottom drawer, and use the bong.”

chris did as he was told and packed a nice bowl. we went around in a circle, taking hits from the bong.

i am still nervous about smoking and being high around them, especially chris. it’s not that i don’t trust him at all, it’s that i don’t trust myself.

after about a half hour, chris exited claude’s bedroom and it seemed our visit had expired. i followed chris into his room. it was also very strange, the same but different, just like chris himself. his posters banded the walls and his cd and records collections had doubled in size. he had an ashtray on his window, his bed wasn’t made, and… omg, he still had the old pictures of us hung up on his mirror. i tried not to dwell on it for too long, it was just a strip of four pictures from a photo booth at a mall. we both looked so young… and so happy.

i lean in for a close look at our pixelated expressions. “i missed you.” chris called from behind me, i saw him walk behind me and turned to face him. he was closer than i expected and i backed into the dresser. “i-“ i couldn’t speak.

“you don’t need to respond i just thought i should let you know.” chris said while awkwardly rubbing his neck and beginning to ramble. “i really wish things wouldn’t have gone the way they did, i wish claude never got my phone, but it happened and i don’t know what to do about my past shitty behavior besides apologizing and trying to make it up to you. that’s why i came to the show and saw you, and that’s why i want to make music with you. i miss you, i miss our music, i miss your voice and-“

i didn’t know what to say, chris was rambling on and on so i cut him off swiftly, by pushing my face into his, pressing our lips together. finally.

he seemed stunned, but his lips melted into mine and his anxiety eased. i pulled away, a short sweet kiss.

chris was stunned, “wow, baby, you caught me by surprise.” he said, smiling at me. now he leaned into my face, grasping the back of my neck and planting another kiss on my lips which turned into our tounges swirling together.

finally, i got to see what his lips felt like, what his mouth tasted like, how perfect it felt to be in his arms. i had dreams of this very moment.

the makeout was cut off by claude banging on the door, asking if chris wanted to order pizza. chris pulled away looking annoyed, rolling his eyes.

“its okay chris, i should get back to my apartment.” i said, holding his hands. “i understand, you haven’t been home in a while. ill drive you back to the hotel.” chris said.

claude banged on the door again. chris swung the door open, “bro, i’m going to take her home, i’ll pick one up on the way home.” they brushed eachother off. i walked behind chris, he opened the door for me. we drive to the hotel, i played chris some music i like, and then we pulled in.

we sat in silence in the car for a few seconds. “thank you chris, i had fun.”

“really?” he asked, placing his hand on my thigh. “of course,” i responded, “i wouldn’t lie to you.” chris smiled and leaned over and we shared a quick kiss in the car before i stepped out.

“goodbye.” i said, walking to the driver’s seat with a subtle smirk. as i was driving away, i was smiling. but then i stopped, i can’t believe everything, i need to be smart. and then i thought about him with nothing but a towel, and i fell back into the downward spiral.

[eiirisworkshop]

The First Annual Family Of Promise Roadtrip

A Witcher fanfic (with cover ilustration by corasangloria) Complete fic available to read on Ao3 here.

~

Chapter 1

   Yennefer's glass hit the table a split second before Jaskier's did. She grinned wickedly. “I win.”

    With a groan, Jaskier dropped his head into his arms on the table. He looked up just enough to pout pitifully at Geralt. “Why'd you let me accept that bet? It was a terrible idea.”

    “I told you not to,” Geralt said mildly over his soda. “Now pay her.”

    Jaskier harumphed but sat up and fished his wallet out from the back pocket of his skin-tight jeans. Yennefer held out an expectant hand, still grinning.

    They were at their usual table in the corner of their usual bar at the end of a long week of other people's relationship drama for Yen, the uphill battle of getting kids to care about Shakespeare for Jask, and one too many rabid raccoons for Geralt. It was—perhaps unfairly, given the raccoons—Geralt's turn to drive, though it was Jask's keys in his pocket. As long as one of them drove something that could seat more than two, everything was fine.

    Yen took Jaskier's money with a flourish and leaned across the table to kiss his cheek. “Now never doubt me again.”

    “This is going to keep happening,” Geralt said with absolute certainty.

    “Gee, thanks for the vote of confidence, dear.”

    Geralt shrugged. “You make bad decisions when you're drunk.”

    Yennefer cackled. Jaskier ignored her and leaned heavily on one elbow. “No. I make bold decisions when I'm drunk, so, yeah, when they're bad they're kinda spectacularly bad but when they're good they're spectacularly good. I know this about myself. Pass the fries?”

    After taking one herself, Yen shoved the basket of cheesy fries towards Jaskier. She bit off half her fry. “Wasn't he a few drinks in when he oh so dramatically confessed—or professed? Whatever—his undying love for you?”

    “He was,” Geralt said, with a sigh equal parts exasperated and fond. “Several drinks in.”

    “See, that was an excellent decision!” Jaskier said proudly, then frowned. “But I don't think I was that dramatic about it.”

    Geralt arched an eyebrow at him. “You stood on the table.”

    “I do that anyway!”

    Yennefer hummed and shook her head. “That's not the defense you think it is.”

    Jaskier very maturely stuck his tongue out at her.

    Something started buzzing. Frowning, Geralt reached for his pocket. “Who the fuck…?” He pulled out his phone and glanced at the screen. “I have to take this.”

    With that, he slid out of his seat, thumbing at his phone to answer the call as he made for the door.

    Yennefer and Jaskier shared a curious look.

    “Who,” Yen asked, “that he actually answers his personal phone for, is not at this table?”

    Jaskier shrugged sweepingly. “Brothers, maybe?”

    She frowned and fixed the strap of her dress where it was migrating down her shoulder. “Have you ever actually seen him answer the phone for them, though?”

    “Uh.” Jask leaned back in his chair and scrunched his eyes at the ceiling. “Once yeah. After Lambert called, like, five times in a row.”

    “Yeah. He picked up immediately,” Yen pointed out, leaning forward on the table.

    “I have no idea.” Jask shrugged, tossing his hands up. He sighed. “Do we need another round?”

    Yen made a face, lip curling. “I think I just need juice or something.

    “Ha!” He made to poke her face as he stood up, snatched his hand back as she tried to smack it, then successfully booped her nose. “You might chug faster but I hold it better.”

    “You're male!” She swatted at him as he sashayed loosely past. “You metabl'ize alcohol differently.” She huffed and took the fries back for herself.

    When Jaskier returned, he set a glass carefully in front of her. “Fancy apple juice for you. Apple whiskey for me.” He took a sip and sank into his seat. “Geralt's not back?”

    Yen shook her head, frowned, then rolled her neck ‘til it popped. “Ow.”

    Jask lowered his glass, pausing before the drink he was about to take. “You good?”

    “I'm magnificent.” She smirked and drank her juice as he rolled his eyes.

~

    Jaskier and Yennefer had both finished their apple-based beverages and gone, one at a time, to the bathroom, checked out the window to make sure Jask's car was still in the lot, and gotten a couple ciders by the time Geralt came back. He dropped heavily into his chair, rubbing his forehead.

    “Well?” Yen prompted.

    “What was that all about?” Jask prodded.

    Geralt sighed and looked up at them. “How much money is riding on the answer?”

    Yen shrugged. “Surprisingly, none.”

    “We ran outta ideas pretty quick for people you ever actually answer the phone for, so…yeah.”

    Geralt snorted, tipped his head back and took a breath. “I'm gonna be looking after my goddaughter for the summer.”

    “Oh,” Jask said with dawning understanding at the same time Yen asked, “You have a goddaughter?”

    Jask grinned. “Oh, he very much has a goddaughter.”

    Geralt grimaced. “Can we continue this conversation at home? So I can have a drink.”

    “Yeah, that's fair.” Yen knocked back the last of her cider, pushed back her chair, frowned down at her shoes, took them off, then stood. “Let's go. Julian?”

    “Yeees?” Jask asked, getting to his feet.

    “Keep talking.”

    He laughed. “Well, you see, wha' had happened was—”

    “If we're going let's go,” Geralt interrupted. “I can't believe you're walking through this dive barefoot…”

    Yen made a dismissive sound and led the way outside, shoes dangling by their straps from her fingers.

    The lights on Jaskier's SUV blinked as Geralt unlocked it. Yen claimed shotgun so Jask sprawled tipsily in the back seat of his own car. “As I was saying—”

    “Put your seatbelt on,” Geralt growled.

    “Yeah, yeah.” Jask fumbled to get a belt around him in a way that worked despite him not sitting in a way any engineer expected anyone to sit in a car. “Way back when I was in undergrad, I had a band, and we didn't totally suck, so we'd get asked to play events—parties and shit. One day this chick I've talked to maybe once but seen every day for two years 'cause we kept, like, having classes across from each other 'cause for some reason the half of comp-lit that didn't fit in the fuckin' German building, was in the poli-sci building—why they didn't have us in the English building I will never understand; there woulda been room if they put religious studies somewhe—”

    “Jaskier,” Geralt sighed as he waited to be able to make a left turn, “get on with it.”

    “Right, sorry, lots of opinions on the layout of my university.”

    “I understand,” Yen said sagely, more than half twisted around in her seat to face Jask.

    “Anyway, this chick catches me in the hallway outside that adaptation class with the professor I always bitch about and asks me to play her engagement party. I say yes 'cause I know this chick is from money money—like makes my family look broke kinda money; amazing the shit you overhear waiting for classes—and I like fancy-ass parties. So we get all the details worked out, and everybody in the band can have a plus one. It's a big party. So, obviously, I bring Geralt.”

    “Obviously,” Yen snorted. “Frankly it's amazing it took you so long to get together.”

    Jask waved a hand in a shooing motion. “I thought he wasn't interested; we've been over that. So I bring Geralt—”

    “You bribed me,” Geralt cut in, “with promises of an open bar and free dinner, then waited ‘til I'd agreed to go to tell me there was a dress code.”

    “Bribing you with food is just so very effective, sweetheart. Anyway. We go to the party, I'm doing the whole fronting-a-band thing, I have no idea where Geralt's wand'red off to,” Jask slurred slightly, “but my best guess's the quietest dark corner, an' like I said, there's an open bar. Big fancy house full of drunk rich people.

    “Then a fuckin' fight breaks out 'cause apparently Pavetta's fiance—Pavetta is the rich chick—her fiance is from several so-sho-ec'nomic tiers down and the wrong side'v the tracks and some of the rich dudes have a fuckin' problem with that 'cause they think Pavetta oughta be marrying one of them instead. Right? So one of these trust fund mother fuckers pulls a goddamn knife because who fuckin' knows why he had that on 'im and goes after the fiancé and I'm thinkin' I'm about to witness a murder and that is not the kind of interesting life I want to lead and people are screaming and then Geralt shows back up from wherever he was sulking, breaks up the fight. By which I mean he disarms the jackass with the knife and knocks him out cold, lookin' like some kinda action-hero-come-avenging-angel.”

    “You don't need to embellish,” Geralt sighed.

    “I'm not!” Jaskier squawked.

    Yen chuckled. “You are slightly prone to the avenging angel look. It's the hair.”

    Geralt shook his head but Jaskier gestured in vindication. “It is the hair! But so yeah, he breaks up the fight, Pavetta and her fiance, Duny—God, I love that man's name, Duny, such a good name—yeah, they're super grateful and Duny is about as sloshed as anybody else at the party and Pavetta's just one of those dramatic grand gesture type people so they're both like ohmygoodness thank you so much you shall be the godfather of our child. Geralt's like yeah sure sounds great and fuckin' leaves the party. Eight months later he gets a birth announcement card in the mail.”

    Yen threw her head back with laughter. “That's amazing. Geralt, why on earth did you agree to that?”

    “I didn't think they meant it,” Geralt snapped. “I definitely didn't know she was already pregnant.”

    “Shotgun wedding,” Jaskier singsonged from the back.

    “Shut up. The only reason they were able to draw up all the legal shit is you gave her my info.” Geralt pulled into his own driveway and cut the engine, ignoring Jaskier babbling self justifications behind him. He looked at Yennefer. “Are you staying tonight or am I taking you home?”

    “I'm staying.”

    “Great.” Geralt got out, then opened the door for Jask, who more or less fell out onto the ground, saved only by Geralt's strong arm catching him across the chest.

    “So much for you holding it better,” Yen snickered, shoving her own car door shut once she was out.

    “I have had more than you,” Jaskier objected. “And don't think I don't know that you took your shoes off 'cause you're too wobbly to walk in those monstrosities.”

    “If you throw your shoe at him I'm locking you both out,” Geralt growled, brushing past to let them in the little old house. He flicked on the foyer light. “Roach?”

    A jingle, then the measured tack tack tack of paws on the hardwood and his giant brown Great Dane appeared down the hall in the doorway to his bedroom, head tilted, one uncropped ear pricked attentively.

    Geralt smiled a little. “Beer me?”

    Roach dutifully trotted to the kitchen to yank the fridge open by the dish towel draped around the handle.

    “So,” Yen went to drape herself across her favorite chair in Geralt's living room, “you acquired a goddaughter. Why are you taking care of her this summer?”

    Roach came trotting back, a can of beer in her mouth. Geralt took it, wiped it off on his jeans, pet her, kissed the top of her head, then let Jask pull him onto the couch for snuggles. “She asked me to.” He shrugged and cracked open his beer. “She never asks me for anything.”

    Jask hummed curiously. “Did she—ack, Roach!” he squawked as Roach stepped on him, getting up on the couch to join in the snuggles. “Why do you only sometimes understand you're big? Hi there.” He scritched the corner of her jaw and took a breath. “Geralt, did she say why she was asking you? Seems like she must've. You were on the phone for awhile.”

    Geralt leaned back against the arm of the couch, sweeping an arm under his head as he did, so he wasn't laying on his hair. “Apparently, her grandmother sends her to the same summer camp every year and she doesn't want to go because the other kids treat her weird.” He sat up just enough to sip his beer. “She got Calanthe to agree that if she could find something else to keep her busy for the summer she doesn't have to go to camp, and how better to keep out of her grandmother's way than to stay with the godfather who lives several states over.”

    “Hang on.” Yennefer frowned. “Calanthe? As in—?”

    Geralt nodded. “Calanthe Riannon.”

    “The congresswoman?”

    “Do you know of any other Calanthe Riannons?” Jaskier asked. “It's not like her name is Mary Smith. Or Molly O'Malley. Or—”

    “Yes,” Geralt cut in, “the congresswoman.”

    Yen's frown deepened. “Didn't her daughter die in a plane crash like a decade ago?”

    Geralt nodded again. “That was Pavetta. Duny was with her. That's why Ciri lives with her grandmother.”

    “That crash was all over the news for a month and you never even said you knew them,” Yen accused.

    “Because I didn't know them,” Geralt said. “Not really. I met them once—Jask knew both of them better than I did. I just got cards at Christmas and I sent cards back for that and her birthday because,” he shrugged, “I did agree to be her godfather, cards are a little enough thing. Then they died and nothing changed. The next Christmas card came like clockwork. I wasn't invited to the funeral.”

    Yennefer looked to Jaskier. “I don't remember you saying anything, either.”

    “Yeah, we weren't on speaking terms at the time.” Jask prodded Roach gently off of him so he could stand up. “Pretty sure you blamed me for your breakup somehow.”

    “Oh, right.” Yen ran a hand over her face, miraculously not smudging her makeup. “Wait, no.” She called at his back as he went to the kitchen, “That was when I was mad at you for sleeping with my ex!”

    “Oh yeah!” Jaskier laughed, snagging a couple bottles of Gatorade from the fridge.

    Geralt shook his head. “I still don't understand why that was a problem.”

    Yen sighed. “Because romance is stupid.”

    “That much I know.”

    “But it's just been cards?” Yen asked. “The entire relationship?”

    “Cards, a few phone calls, occasional texts.”

    Yen quirked an eyebrow. “You've never met this girl in person?”

    Geralt shook his head while he drank.

    Jask came back, tossed a Gatorade to Yen, who almost managed to catch it without fumbling, then plopped himself on the floor. “So is there a plan for the whole goddad for the summer thing or…?”

    “No. I…am going to have to call Calanthe.”

~

End of chapter! Read the rest on Ao3 here.

[renee-writer]

The Heart Don't Lie Chapter 1

AO3

He stares at her, his mouth open. Thank God that Anna wasn’t paying attention. His wife was busy whispering with his aunts, Geillis and Leticia.

 

What in heaven is she doing here? The last he heard she was in Boston. Now she stands in the same charity event he and his wife is. Is he with her?  He forces his eyes off her and looks for her husband.

 

His hands fist automatically at seeing him. There is the bastard.  Crips, he is putting his arm around her. Shake him off! He screams in his head.

 

“There you are.” He jerks at hearing his wife ‘s voice, “the auction is about to begin.” She takes his arm. He re-arranges his face before he turns and faces her.

 

“Aye, let’s get a good spot.” He knows she wants to bid on some homemade quilts to send to their daughters at University.

 

She smiles up at him and he returns it, praying it reaches his eyes.

 

“Come Claire. We need to take our seats.” Frank leads her to where the chairs are set up before the auction table.

 

“Alright.” Was that Jamie? She hasn’t seen him in fifteen years. The last time was right before they moved to Boston. Still, she would recognize his profile anywhere.

 

It would make sense he would be here. He would wish to support the charity if he was still the same man she knew. It was supporting the homeless after all.

 

“Is that alright?” She shakes her head, forcing herself to pay attention to her husband.

 

“Forgive me. I was woolgathering.”

 

His smile is tight. “I was asking if here was alright.” He gestures towards the chairs.

 

“Yes.” She takes a seat and he sits beside her, taking her hand. She tries to fully focus on him. This move back to Scotland was a fresh start for them. Their marital problems got progressively worse after Frank’s  infertility diagnosis.

 

He had insisted that it had to be her issue. It turns out her husband ‘s sperm count is almost zero.

 

Now they have gathered up their lives to restart them. Selling the house in Boston, the one with the big back yard and five bedrooms that was supposed to be full of children, for a flat in Scotland where they will come to after his job as a professor and hers as a surgeon.

 

“Rose has a new roommate.” Anna reports to Jamie, about their oldest. She is now a junior in university and living off campus.

 

“Female?”

 

Anna laughs. “Of course.  She wouldn’t wish to disappoint her da.”

 

Rose and her baby sister, Willa, are the apples of their daddy’s eye. He brought them up with strict values. Neither lass would dare live with a lad outside of marriage, even as a roommate.  Willa, is in a dorm as she is a freshman.

 

“Good.”

 

The auction begins.

 

She is bidding on the Ming vase while Frank is after some old history books. What is Jamie here for? She wonders.

 

She soon finds out. The quilts are first.

 

His hand flies up. How can she still recognize it?

 

A blush raises across her face as the memories return. His hands were the first to intimately touch her.  Oh, not memories to have here and now. She re-focuses her thoughts on the auction.

 

Anna claps her hands when they win the bid. Jamie smiles at her.  “They are for our lasses in university.” She explains, as they rise to claim them.

 

Claire feels something drop in her stomach. She knows that they have children but to be reminded, in such a public way, brings a feeling of sickness to her heart.

 

He can’t help but turn his eyes to Claire. The look on her face causes his heart to drop. Feeling a strong glance on the back of his head, he turns sheepishly back, worrying it is Anna. It is worse. It is his Uncle Colum. He is slowly shaking his head.

 

She wins the vase. The only good thing to happen at the auction. As she and Frank walk out, she sees Jamie with his arm around his wife.

[via-l0ve]

🕯️ #11 with andrew’s peter !!

side eye. (TASM! Peter Parker x reader)

a/n: i love this. enjoy ml!!!

“waiting in line at the grocery check-out, rolling their eyes at each other because the person at the front is starting drama.”

all you wanted to do was get pretzels. it was the ONE thing you came to the grocery store for and it was supposed to be a quick trip. grab the pretzels, maybe a drink, and go!

but, of course, the universe said you were wrong.

you looked around to find two lines open. one had at least seven people in line, the other, two.

so, you sat in the shorter grocery line. two people ahead of you and, as you got in, two people came behind of you. Still, you tried to keep spirits high. it shouldn’t have taken too long!

You lifted your head up from looking at those very tempting chocolate bars when you heard some loud voices.

“i just don’t understand how these pecans can be $1.90!!! and i think you have very poor service! only two registers open…”

you looked ahead, unamused, as an old woman started arguing with the young, teenage cashier. you watched, head tilted in slight annoyance. of course there had to be a fight in your line.

the old woman wouldn’t let the price of those stupid pecans go. she kept telling the cashier off, as if they could help it.

you shook your head, looking anywhere but her. your eyes met with a boy who was two people behind you. he was only holding one thing, apple juice. he tilted his head towards the old woman and rolled his eyes. a small smile formed on your lips as you did the same.

after what felt like three hours, the old woman gave up and paid for her pecans and left. you were finally up. you could pay for your stupid pretzels and go.

“that’ll be $17.99” the tired teenager mumbles.

damn. the old woman was, unfortunately, right. that was pricy for your bin of pretzels. and you only brought $10.

“oh, um..” you sighed, digging in your wallet.

“it’s okay. i don’t have enough.” you said, defeated.

you handed the pretzels back and started to walk off. so much for your simple and quick grocery trip for your desired pretzels.

“um, i’ll pay for those.”

you turn around and see the cute boy from earlier. he slid ahead of the man in front of him and set his juice down.

“how much was it?” he asks you with a smile.

you froze momentarily. not only was he cute, but he was seriously going to pay for your pretzels.

“oh! they’re um… $18.” you said, handing the pretzels to him.

he smiles, paying for both his apple juice and your bucket of pretzels.

“here.” he smiles at you, handing you your food.

“thank you.” you smile big.

he walks out with you, smiling and talking about the older woman earlier.

“so, i hope you enjoy those.” he smiles again.

“i will definitely be enjoying them.” you grin.

“how can i repay you? i don’t have much money on me right now.” you smile.

“ummmm..” he thought for a moment.

“how about i give you my number and we can share those pretzels?” he asks with a slight chuckle. you go red in the face and grin again.

“i’d love that.” you say softly, handing him your phone.

he smiled, taking your phone and putting his number in. he handed it back to you, accidentally touching your fingers.

“see you soon.” he said, cracking open his apple juice and walking back to his car.

you open your phone and see his contact.

“Peter💕 (pretzel guy!)”

[distantwoomi]

Cream berry - Apple Pie

Dream layed on the floor next to Swap. Their yellow eyelights fixated on Swap's blue eyelights. They were listening to their lover's slow, rested breaths. Everything was calm until Cross burst in the room holding and book.

Cross shouted out, "Hey Baby face!"

Dream sighed at the nickname, "Yes Cross?"

"I might have read a thing in your room and wanna try something."

Dream shot up confused yet also concerned, "What did you read..?"

"Your diary~"

"Cross that's their private things, please respect his privacy." Swap butted in.

"I only read one page. It was about baking with your family. I decided that we should all bake! It could grow us closer."

Dream's eyes darted away from Cross, "Oh, uhm, I think I still remember my caretaker's recipe for apple pie. It was my favorite food back then."

"That seems like fun." Swap inputted.

"Yeah, feed us Mommy Dream~"

Dream's face immediately flushed, "Cross!"

Swap snickered at the comment and dragged the two to the kitchen, "Hurry up!" Swap, always impatient.

The three settled into the kitchen. Dream grabbed ingredients, Swap cleaned the counter, Cross watched. Gosh was he mesmerized, seeing how swift his partners moved and adapted to things.

Once everything got set up Cross went to the other side of the counter. The three kneeded dough, mixed eggs, played with flour sometimes throwing it on each other.

With powder covered faces and a few stains on the counter a pie was successfully slid into the preheated oven. Dream started to clean the counters while Cross threw in dirty jokes. Swap tried to protest but Dream would still suffer, flustered.

The oven dinged after long, treacherous hours of Swap complaining on how 'he's starving!' Dream went over and put on oven mitts. They grabbed the pie and sat it on the counter. Swap came over to steal a piece.

"It needs to cool first." Dream informed him.

Swap let out an audibly loud groan, "I'm so hungry! I'm about to go Horror mode!"

"Complaining won't cool it faster~" Cross cooed.

"Oh, just had to make yourself relevant?" Cross and Swap had always been competitive towards each other. Trying to show Dream more affection, helping around the house more than the other, normal fights.

The two glared at each other, Dream growing more worried by the second. Dream knew it wouldn't get serious but it still concerned them.

"Can you two be nice to each other for one second?" Dream weakly mumbled.

Cross laughed, "Alright Hun, if it really bothers you that much." Dream smiled and hugged Cross, Swap joined.

"What's with the hug?" Cross asked.

Dream looked up at him, "I just like it when you two get along! It makes me all warm and fuzzy inside. We love each other, that makes me happy..." Dream looked away. Gold dusting his coccyx.

Those words sent sparks between the trio, they relished the moment. They moved to the couch for a more comfortable cuddle session, it was the best way to kill time while the pie cools. They talked on and on about silly things until all they could muster was incoherent laughter. Most of their conversations ended like this.

Dream pushed Swap off of their side, "You big baby! I have to go cut the pie, it should be cooled now." Swap cheered loudly but quickly was muffled by Cross shoving a pillow in his face.

"Don't yell so loud!" Cross responded loudly. Dream laughs and walks to the kitchen.

After four swift cuts there are three different plates with a carefully placed slice of pie on top. After turning on a movie that nobody would pay attention to the three huddled together all eating pie. A bite would warm up your insides just telling you that you were loved. Swap wouldn't stop thanking Dream for baking the pie.

"I should have smashed an egg on your head..." Dream taunts after Cross kept kissing their cheek. Swap was jealous and pouted trying to get Dream's attention. Dream kissed Swap's cheek leaving a small bit of whipped cream. Cross leans over and licks it off making Swap sputter. It was familiar to feel Cross's tongue on his bone but it always caught him off guard. He should train better!

Dream leans back, allowing themself to sink into the couch. They stare at the TV screen and smile softly. This made life worth living.

♡-•. Oh stars,.I have been absent for a while. I started this all the way back in March last year! I got the ship by picking three random letters, hopefully it worked well! I hope you enjoyed!

Dream belongs to @/jokublog

Cross belongs to @xtaleunderverse/@jakei95

Swap belong to p0pc0rnpr1nc3

[amarantine-amirite]

Slightly Bewildered

It started when I cleaned up all the crap off my computer. Part of me worries that I have gotten rid of the wrong stuff. I brush it off as being ridiculous.

I had only just started to get over this when I heard my aunt say, "Hey, where's that voucher that's good for forty iTunes gift cards? I need it now."

The first thing that ran through my mind was, Uh oh. I messed up, didn't I? It then occurred to me that what's urgent is seldom important. You're better off to slow down and think about what you're doing if you can. "Does it have to be right now?" I asked.

"Yes it does, Mercedes"

I went over to the computer and looked at what it was. My aunt's boss emailed her. Somebody set fire to her car. The arsonist was never caught, and the boss got stuck with the bill for $1,500 from the fire department for responding to the call. She doesn't know where the $1,500 bill came from. The collections department told her to go to the city, but the city told her to go to collections. Nobody answered her questions.

What the boss asked my aunt to do was to buy up 1500 dollars worth of iTunes cards and pay the fire department for her.

When we receive an email giving us important news, we decide we'll deal with it later. But the longer you think about something, the more likely you will notice things that don't seem right. "Is your boss's spelling usually that bad?" I asked. I didn't get an answer.

It went beyond bad spelling. The more I looked at the request, the less reasonable it seemed. iTunes gift cards are only good for anything iTunes, they would be worth nothing to the fire department. I had good reason to suspect that this was a scam, and a very sophisticated one at that. Criminals know that we're likely to drop everything if our boss emails us with a high priority request, no matter how stupid it looks. We're even more likely to fall into the trap if they pretend to be your boss because, even if the recipient did suspect foul play, they might be too afraid to confront them. After all, if they are wrong, they're implying that there was something unprofessional about the boss's request.

"Please tell me you found the voucher" my aunt demanded.

I didn't. But that didn't stop me from saying, "I've connected the dots!"

My aunt strutted to the computer in a corporate manner. "'For Christ sakes, Mercedes," she began, "There are only two dots, you drew them right next to each other, and they don't mean anything."

"Yes, but I think that story about the $1,500 bill to put out the car fire was bogus." I said.

My aunt sat there on the chair in the kitchen with a confused look on her face. "It was?"

"Yep, it was bogus. Nobody other than Apple recognizes iTunes cards as money. So it doesn't matter that I accidentally deleted that thing, right?"

I thought I was out of the woods. Nope. "Yes, it does matter. What if it was important?"

"Then I wouldn't have deleted it in the first place." I still didn't understand why my aunt was upset.

"I want you to go to Staples and buy 40 iTunes gift cards," she demanded, "sometimes emergencies are emergencies, and we can't ignore them just because we're uncomfortable." Yes, I thought, and sometimes a clown statue is a murderer hiding in your house.

I went to Staples. I Saw office chairs and thought it would be funny to go-kart in them. I zoomed around until I Hit some old lady. "You damn kids need to be respectful of others around you," she chastised.

Her comments Snapped me back into reality. I came to Staples for something important. But what was it?

I forgot why I came to Staples.

I Walked around the store twice. A tall staff member with a weird haircut that tried to look like a slicked up version of Ed Sheeran's hairdo but failed so badly asked, "You need help finding anything?"

I noticed his name tag said Doug. "Have you ever walked into a room and forgot why you went there?"

Doug laughed. "Take your time," he responded.

I walked around the store a third time. At that point, I decided that whatever I had come to Staples for wasn't important, as I would've remembered if it was important. I picked up a couple of after-eights at the checkouts and left

I think this is the first time that forgetting something wound up working out well for us. A few weeks later, we discovered that I was correct in assuming that it was a scam. The email didn't come from her boss, it came from the boss's secretary. Ever since she came out as gay, the company stopped paying her. That means that she has been logging into the boss's email and scamming her subordinates to make ends meet.

Even still, my aunt was still mad at me for losing track of something. Shouldn't she be happy I stopped her from falling for a scam?

@oopsprompts