#to name a few outstanding designs:

[beyondfabric]

Introducing: Mr. Archive

What better way to kickstart 2024 than with one the most beautifully curated, styled and fair-priced vintage stores out there?

Mr. Archive has been one of my go-to places the last few months, be it for visual inspiration on their instagram profile or the browse some of the most interesting pieces around. To be fair, after 15 years of working in this industry is getting more and more difficult for me to find garments and brands that are truly exciting and fresh. If on top of that we take into account the price point of some of these labels, many of which produce in Portugal with accessible costs, my enthusiasm dims even further.

I’ve always been passionate about the universe of vintage and pre worn garments, but this love has been fueled in recent years by the appearance of highly specialized shops that seem to be perfectly in tune with my personal style. I’ve had the chance to chat with Matteo, the mastermind behind Mr. Archive to learn more about this outstanding project.

BF: I came across Mr. Archive fairly recently and I must say that it definitely hit a soft spot within the range of vintage providers currently on my radar. How long have you been in business? What drove you to create it?

Matteo: I'm passionate about my job, believe I have a somewhat general knowledge of the fashion world, but about 4 years ago, I got fascinated by this industry, even though I already knew it. I come from a family that has always worked in the clothing industry.

BF: For me, your selection is perfectly curated, bringing a mix of military and navy-inspired garments, with a twist of Americana. Is this an extension of your own style and taste, or is it more business-oriented?

Matteo: What I propose is all based on my personal taste; I create outfits on the spot, drawing inspiration from magazines, newspapers, etc., and then I elaborate and create. My mom is an artist, and I think I took inspiration from her.

BF: Vintage has always inspired me ever since I got into fashion roughly 15 years ago. There's just something distinctive about the fabrics and the history behind each garment that you can not replicate with new items. How/where do you source your amazing selection?

Matteo: My pieces come from warehouses worldwide; I'm constantly looking for new things, and that's the wonderful thing about my job! I have strong trust in my suppliers!

BF: With sustainability being the word of order when it comes to fashion, have you noticed an increase in demand for pre-owned garments? Do you think part of the solution can be provided by vintage?

Matteo: Recently, there has been an increase in the purchase of vintage and second-hand clothing items. To be honest, I believe that a few years ago, not many people knew about this world, but now it's expanding and captivating even those who knew little about it.

BF: I noticed you have a small capsule of garments carrying your own label, namely selvedge denim and accessories. What's the story behind those? Can we expect more designs in the future?

Matteo: I won't deny that creating my own clothing line would be a great personal satisfaction, a significant growth. I recently created a small line, "MRARCHIVE," currently composed of jackets, pants, and hats. One day, I'd like to expand, but I still have much to learn and study.

BF: Any tips or advice you wish to leave for those more reluctant to explore the world of previously owned items? It's still somewhat taboo for some people.

For many people, this world is still a taboo; they're still stuck in the thought of "they're used clothes." What I think is that one should see the story and originality behind each piece to appreciate its value, both from a historical and an aesthetic perspective. Sometimes, I compare some clothing items to paintings—they should be framed.

You can find Mr. Archive here.

[girlkisser13]

ares cabin headcanons

children of ares

• it’s more difficult to break a weapon in a child of war’s hand (with the exception being if someone was a child of the big three).

• they can pull of any shade of red.

• camo EVERYTHING. they just have a weird obsession with camo.

• a lot of them obsessively collect sneakers.

• they have nicknames/call signs for all their members, they don't choose one when they join, it'll be given to them sooner or later.

• leather jackets, military boots, aviators, chains, chokers and metal rings are the norm.

• there's always that one kid that likes to show off their butterfly knife tricks. (i’m sorry if that’s you.)

• every one of them has a scar somewhere, usually they got it even before they came to camp. they treat scars like tattoos—the bigger and more obvious they are, the more badass they are.

• all the armies on the loosing side are forced to serve them and their father so they can summon them at a time of battle and increase their power by invoking their father’s powers.

• they’re the best fighters in camp, but that doesn't mean all they have is physical strength.

• they have the strength to stand their ground and defend a point that is so strongly that many of them become outstanding politicians.

• they don't just teach people how to fight monsters, but they also basic self-defence for anyone who feels unsafe in the city.

• the tradition of capture the flag initially started as a dispute between the ares and athena cabin, with the other camps joining one of the two.

• it has always been a ceremony for the two cabins to always be against each other.

• they all have excellent posture because they’re always training, so they’re always wearing breastplates. (i’m assume breastplates improve your posture the same way corsets do).

• rumor has it there's an underground fight club that's invite-only (but you didn't hear that from me).

•those who have a taken a vow of nonviolence run an anger management group for their siblings who want to gain a little more control.

cabin exterior

• the cabin has a rugged, fortress-like appearance, with sturdy stone walls that seem built to withstand a siege. the front door is made of reinforced steel, adorned with battle scars and dents.

• it also has heavy punk rock aesthetics, which is ironic considering how much discipline is enforced within its members.

• various weapons, such as swords, spears, and shields, are displayed prominently on the walls, either as decoration or trophies from past battles. some are enchanted to glow faintly, adding an aura of intimidation.

• the cabin is adorned with tattered banners and flags, each representing a different battle or conquest. the ares symbol, a wild boar or a spear, is prominently displayed.

• the walls are covered in graffiti and markings made by the cabin members, depicting their victories, names, and personal symbols. these give the cabin a rough, lived-in look.

• the cabin itself might show signs of past conflicts, with scorch marks, cracks, and patched-up sections that hint at the intensity of the cabin's training sessions and disputes.

• at the entrance, there are statues of ares himself, standing guard and setting the tone for those who enter.

• the stuffed boar head at the front of the cabin acts as a surveillance system, it’s enchanted to squeal when there are intruders.

cabin interior

• the cabin has a minimalist, utilitarian design, with few decorations and a focus on functionality. the beds are simple, sturdy cots, and personal belongings are kept to a minimum.

• the bunks are arranged in a regimented, military style, with each camper's area neatly organized. personal spaces include a footlocker for storing gear and a small, sturdy nightstand.

• ac/dc is constantly playing in the background?

• every available wall space is utilized for weapon racks and shelves, holding an array of swords, spears, axes, and shields.

• the cabin has an area dedicated to training, with punching bags, weights, and practice dummies. there is even be a small sparring ring in one corner for indoor practice.

• various trophies from past battles and quests are displayed inside the cabin, including weapons, monster teeth, claws, and other memorabilia. these serve as a testament to the cabin's prowess in combat.

• large maps detailing various battlefields and strategic locations are pinned to the walls. they have markers and notes, reflecting ongoing planning and strategies.

• the interior features rough, durable materials like stone and wood, designed to withstand heavy use and combat-related activities. the floors are covered in animal skins and thick, worn rugs.

cabin traditions

• for every child of war that has died in battle, a spear bearing their name is placed on the roof of the cabin.

• they have a ritual where members show off their battle scars and share stories of how they got them, celebrating their bravery and toughness.

• they have regular evenings dedicated to cleaning, sharpening, and maintaining their weapons and armor, often accompanied by storytelling or strategizing.

• they have CONSTANT meetings where they plan strategies for capture the flag and other camp activities, often held in a militaristic fashion with a focus on tactics and leadership.

• they have regular sparring sessions where they challenge each other to friendly duels to improve their skills and rank within the cabin.

• before major events like capture the flag, they paint their faces and arms with war paint as a symbol of their readiness for battle and to intimidate their opponents.

divider by @sunkupng

[lxmelle]

“Best Friend” / 親友

I’ve been mulling over this for a few days, wondering if I’m overthinking things, or if there is actually something to it.

Gojo and Geto are like a pair of parents. And I think it’s deliberate. Hear me out.

See, from a non-native pov, I can pick apart this coined phrase for best friends, shinyuu “親友” or “family friend” into its individual kanji: 親 and 友

The first kanji on its own, oya “親” can be read as “parents”. The second kanji on its own is tomo “友” can be read as “friend”. How a kanji character is read changes according to context within a sentence, topic, or what it is paired with. It can be difficult to explain if you’re not used to the language, so I’ll leave it at that for the purposes of not complicating this post.

They both considered each other their 親友 - best friend. There is only one pair of people who considered each other this “best friend” terminology in the series. Gege could have used Nakama 仲間, or Brother, or even just Tomodachi 友達. TaisetsunaHito 大切な人 is definitely a step too far. No other best friend. Yuji is several people’s “brother” but not best friend. Gojo and Geto are a pair. A duo. The canon-confirmed “たった一人の親友” my one and only best friend status is mutual.

As friends, we know they split up. There is no mention of 親友 / best friend-ism at this point. But they unequivocally considered each other as such, and they never ever had another 親友 until their dying day.

The fact that there is the kanji for “parent” in the phrase for “best friend” is poetic. “Oya/親” is obviously the same word used by Gojo in the kfc breakup scene, because that’s the kanji for it, and that’s what Geto did - kill his parents.

I’ll use this to illustrate:

親 = parents (consisting of mum + dad).

親友🤍 + 親友🖤

To add to the latter, this potential theme, they both go onto adopting kids. Their different parenting styles speak for themselves ofc, but that’s by the by.

Gojo and Geto’s separation played a part in setting off this huge domino effect too. Geto also described how his parents are not his only family now. We also know he considers close non-blood-related persons to be as “family” - like how he offered Kuroi the acceptance of her feelings towards Amanai as “family”. He saw Gojo and the school as family - that is, until he saw how the system was willing to sacrifice their own kind. It isn’t a stretch to see the parallels between what Geto is sharing about severing that bond with his parents (and also with Gojo) and finding another “family” by choice.

Obviously Gege isn’t drawing the parallel by bringing parents into it just due to their best friend status. I headcanon that it was to start anew, not be a hypocrite, to spare them from the monster he’d become, and to eliminate the likelihood they’d be used against him in any way. The last 2 reasons would be to drive in the emphasis that there is a similarity with Rika (who was rumoured to have been the reason for her parents’ deaths although they occurred separately) and... that this would mean that Geto was also separating from his “family” in HI - the duo that was Gojo and Geto. Gojo ascended without him in his quest to become the strongest, and Geto descended to pursue his twisted form of meaning to make his ideal a reality.

It might just be reaching and a coincidence, but I remember that Gege loves these little itty bitty details in character and lore design - like birthdates, dates, flower language, religion, specific kanji used for names, etc - just to name a few. It helps him illustrate significance and I guess adds a touch of sophistication and layering in his storytelling. I absolutely love it. We know by design SatoSugu / Gojo and Geto are meant to be counterparts, so black & white, yin and yang, light and dark, elite and common, even their names are quite fitting, GojO SatoRU and GetO SuguRU .

The kanji / characters selected are also deliberate - Satoru 悟 being “enlightenment” and Suguru 傑 being “outstanding”. The Gojokesa 五条袈裟 was also deliberate, Geto 夏油 has the word “summer” as part of his name and his birthday is setsubun (1st day of spring) where ghosts/evil spirits are chased away. Gojo’s is the heaviest snowfall.

My examples are limited to just satosugu, but you know other characters have similar situations with how the kanji for their names were chosen - e.g. simplest that come to mind is 七海建人 Nanami : 七 = 7 and his ratio technique 7:3 and his hair style too 70%30% parting, 海 = sea, 建人 = human builder (…lol, Gojo entrusted Yuji to him after all…); utahime 歌 = song/music, etc.

My point is that there are a lot of little details like these, so I concluded that I’ll just share this thought I had. The pair of 親友 breaking up is a bit like “partners in crime” no longer being partners anymore, and went about their separate ways but fostered “families” of their own.

TLDR: scene in front of the KFC was really a breakup (◞‸◟)

[leveloneandup]

(Photo: Katelyn Mulcahy/Getty Images for Angel City FC)

Christen Press set to return to Angel City training

Christen Press is returning to Angel City FC training this week, the team announced on Monday. Press, who tore her ACL in June 2022, has had a lengthy rehabilitation process that included four surgeries. While she has been training individually for the past few months, her full return to the team’s training environment is set for Tuesday.

“My first day, I’ll do the warm up and the passing pattern with the team, but it will still be the first time I’ve done a legitimate passing pattern with a bunch of bodies on the field and checking angles, because it’s just been one-on-one training for two years,” Press told The Athletic on Monday. “We really are looking at — I got my first ACL surgery June 22 (2022), a week before that I tore my ACL — so really coming up on a two-year mark since the last time I played soccer, the last time I’ve been in team training. When I first told Angel City (about my return), I was thinking, let’s just keep it closed, let me come in on a day when no one’s going to be there and let’s just see how it is. Then I reversed, I changed my mind, because I was like, ‘Shoot, who knows how many milestones I have left to celebrate? Who knows what’s going to happen after this first team training?’ So if this is something we can all celebrate, let’s just go for it, because this journey has been really, really long.”

In January, Press spoke to The Athletic while still officially designated as having a season-ending injury. At that point, she did not have a firm timeline for her return, though she expected it to be at some point during the 2024 season.

“The first thing I need to do is get into training, but then I can get into games, then I can score goals, then I can have an outstanding season, then I can play on the national team again,” Press said. “I don’t have anything ruled out. But the most important thing for me right now is just the first step: getting back into training.”

With that first step now imminent, Angel City has not yet given an estimated return for Press in a NWSL match. The team is currently in 12th place in the standings through 11 matches played.

The timing also should prove a tough turn for Press to get herself into Olympics contention with the USWNT. New USWNT head coach Emma Hayes is expected to name the 18-player roster by the end of the month ahead of the final two send-off matches in July, but considering the depth of the forward pool and Press’ absence for two years, a return to the USWNT is far more likely to be a long-term goal.

“If you’re looking from a nine month perspective, I’m already past that right,” Press added on Monday. “A 9-12 month ACL perspective is not too far off, if we just look at my last surgery. But for whatever reason, I never really looked at the Olympics. With all the trauma of missing the World Cup, then watching the World Cup, then doing the show for the World Cup, I was like, I can’t do this again with the Olympics, because no matter how chill or zen I seem when I talk about it, there’s no way your mind can’t start doing the math, right? There’s no way. I’m like, ‘Oh, I’m not like every other athlete, I can handle this.’ Then I’ll catch myself in the middle of the night counting how many weeks I have left. You can’t stop that. You can’t stop the dreaming, and you want that. That’s part of it, but it’s also the torturous part of it, and the balance of trying to believe you can do something incredible hard and the balance of not getting too excited.”

[rainbowmoonstonestories]

Let Your Dreams Be Your Wings | Chapter 22

Chapters: 22/? Fandom: The Sandman (Netflix 2022, minor content from the Comics) Rating: Explicit Relationships Dream of the Endless/Morpheus x F!Reader  Characters: Dream of the Endless/Morpheus, Lucienne, Matthew the Raven, Mervyn Pumpkinhead, Hob Gadling, Death, Rose Walker, The Corinthian, other minor Sandman characters, Original Characters. Warnings: 18+ content (minors DNI), explicit sexual content, POV switching, very long chapters to read. Summary: You always dreamed of becoming a successful Fashion Designer, sharing your creations with the world and making your father proud. But with him being very ill and so many costs solely weighting on your shoulders, things didn’t go as planned and you had to take a different path instead. An interesting offer led you to the elder Alex Burgess and you were hired as a new housemaid for a very good pay. However, your kindness and outstanding empathy convinced the man to give you an additional task for a doubled compensation; gaining the trust of Dream Of the Endless, held captive into the basement for over a century. Despite the shock of finding such an ethereal entity stripped of all his clothes and contained into a confined space, you had to accept for the sake of your father. But the more you got to speak to the mysterious anthropomorphic personification who didn’t utter a single word, the more you were lost into his eyes that, conversely, seemed to contain the entire universe. A deep connection formed between the two of you, separated only by a thick layer of glass.

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

Credits: The moon dividers were made by firefly-graphics

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

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

Your wonderful vacation in the Dreaming came to an end as Morpheus bestowed gifts and boundless love. Upon arriving at Cape Kennedy, you learned that Lyta's child had already been born. Subtle changes had occurred in everyone's lives, unexpected transformations altering their paths forever. You, on the other hand, faced a tumultuous return to work, grappling with severe physical fatigue back in London.

Author's note: Hello! I hope you guys have been well. Here's another lengthy update for you. I recently realized that in the previous chapter, the name the Reader gave to the deer—Astra—is the same as the little girl Johanna tried to save and lost. This was initially coincidental, as I couldn't recall her name at all. However, it sparked a nice idea that I'll explain towards the end of the story. I didn't want to leave anything to chance, and since the name felt fitting, changing it seemed inappropriate considering all the research I put into it. Instead, I've found a clever way to explain this "glitch" in the narrative. It's not something huge plot-wise, just something that will justify the repeated name.

Now, this chapter delves deeper into the lore of Cape Kennedy's side characters, all of which I've created myself. I wanted to explore a few specific aspects here, as things might become a bit chaotic/dramatic in the next update. I need to ensure I've covered everything thoroughly.

Also, I'm currently revising the first chapters, improving the wording and adding some enrichment. While the story itself will remain unchanged, I aim to make it sound consistent and cohesive from start to finish. After returning to writing in 2022, I've dedicated time to studying and practicing, which has influenced the story's progression. It's hard to believe this fic will be two years old in December!

(The upgraded chapters haven't been uploaded yet. I'll edit each one as soon as they're prepared and ready for posting.)

Gazing at the magnificent Dreaming scenery before you, you heaved a sigh of displeasure. You were fully prepared—though not emotionally ready—to return to Cape Kennedy and depart from the enchanting realm of dreams.

It was absurd, really. You could visit Morpheus's domain every night in your dreams, and he'd even invited you to return physically anytime in the future. There was no logical reason for such despondency; this wasn't a permanent goodbye, after all.

Yet, as you contemplated going back to your normal life, a nagging feeling deep in your consciousness reminded you of the Dreaming's importance to your soul. Leaving it behind felt like bidding farewell to the most beautiful vacation of your life, your heart already aching for it before you'd even left.

Morpheus's arrival heralded your imminent exit from his world. As you turned to greet him, your eyes were drawn to a wooden box nestled in the crook of his right arm. Its intricate design lent it a substantial appearance, adorned with golden decorations reminiscent of your chamber's style and Morpheus' preference.

Curiously, you asked, "What is that?"

He stepped forward, cradling the box in his hands as he examined it. "This is a gift I have prepared for you."

"Another gift? Morpheus, you're truly being too generous."

He smiled, drawing closer to you. "You need only ask, and it shall be yours. All that you long for."

Overcome by a fresh surge of affection for this extraordinary being whom you cherished above all else, you gently cradled his face in your hands and brought your lips to his. The kiss was tender, yet laced with unmistakable determination. "And here I thought nothing could top last night's surprise."

You leaned in for another kiss, finding yourself unable to stop, lost in the moment with the man from whom you could scarcely tear yourself away. Morpheus seemed equally content, returning your kisses with matching fervor until you were both satisfied.

"Do you not you want to see it?" he asked teasingly.

Clearing your throat, you reluctantly detached yourself, taking a deep breath. "Yes, of course."

Instead of opening the box himself, he offered it to you expectantly. You took it with extreme care, almost afraid it might slip from your grasp and shatter. As you held it, you were surprised by how light it felt compared to its sturdy exterior. When you unlatched the front lock, a warm pulse of power emanated from it, tingling your fingertips and running down your spine.

You lifted the lid, revealing the contents nestled on a black velvet cushion. Your eyes widened in astonishment at the sight before you: a luminous pearl-white moonflower that glowed like a living lantern, a palm-sized amethyst crystal of the deepest, most mesmerizing purple, a small glass vial filled with sand— its cap tightly sealed with a thin cord, and a golden bangle that looked tailor-made for your wrist, its surface embellished with tiny, star-shaped crystals that glimmered brilliantly in the light. 

"This blossom shall retain its ethereal beauty, forever in bloom, defying the laws of mortality even as it graces the realm of the Waking," he explained. "The amethyst, a stone of grounding, shall grant immediate solace upon your touch."

"What about the sand?”

"This sand, harvested from the very essence of your Dreamland, bears the same properties as that which resides within my pouch. It is a fragment of your dreams made tangible."

Morpheus's sand, granted to you as a gift…?

"Can I really accept this? Your sand is such a vital source of your power."

"Though but a mere fragment, I am confident in your discretion to safeguard it from unworthy hands."

"That goes without saying. I'll guard it with my life."

He raised his hand, gently brushing the box and allowing his fingers to meet yours in the process. "I have placed tokens of my devotion to you in this vessel of memories, eternal artifacts that shall evoke recollections of your stay in this realm."

Morpheus continued to surpass your expectations effortlessly, offering gift after gift without expecting anything in return. His boundless generosity left you feeling humbled and almost insignificant in comparison.

The bangle needed no introduction. Its aesthetic perfectly complemented the starry theme of the Dreaming while matching the bracelet your mother had given you. As you admired it, you eagerly anticipated wearing them together.

"This is beautiful," you whispered, gently closing the box and caressing its ornate surface. "Thank you, Morpheus. This means the world to me."

“Should you wish for anything else, I will provide it for you.”

You chuckled, shaking your head. "There's only one thing I'd love to bring home with me, but that's not allowed."

As you took his hand in yours, intertwining your fingers with his cool ones, Morpheus immediately grasped your meaning and responded with a subtle smile. "I shall be with you always, my love." 

“I know.”

"Are you ready, my love?" Morpheus asked gently.

“No.”

His shoulders slumped slightly as he gazed at you with affectionate amusement. "Y/N…"

"Sorry, I'm kidding. Well, sort of. Maybe. Not really. But yes, I am ready."

Clutching the strap of your bag, you awaited Morpheus's magic. He gathered you in his embrace, his forehead gently touching yours as he closed his eyes, yours following suit instinctively. A gust of wind tousled your hair, accompanied by the soft swoosh of rising sand. You sensed your surroundings change, the Dreaming gradually fading into the distance, yet remaining forever tethered to you by an invisible thread.

As you remained motionless with your eyes shut tight, Morpheus called your name in a low, velvety voice. "Y/N."

“Mh?”

"We have arrived in the Waking World."

The familiar scents of Florida's natural environment and the subtle shift in ambient light confirmed your return to Cape Kennedy. Still, you found it difficult to release your hold on him, struggling to accept that the most unforgettable week of your life had come to an end.

It was childish, you reasoned, considering how much work awaited you in your waking life. You weren't truly separating from Morpheus or the Dreaming, but a part of you wondered if you could ever truly balance your existence between these two worlds, or if you were inextricably tied to just your own.

You were a mortal connected to an Endless being, with time's relentless march ever-present. Could you truly hope to make the Dreaming your permanent abode?

His lips grazed your cheek, his hands gently resting on your shoulders. "Do you intend to stand here indefinitely?"

“If I do, will you take me back?”

He tenderly caressed your jawline, leaning in to whisper in your ear. "My love, my heart longs to keep you eternally in my embrace. If only I could yield to such selfishness.”

With a resigned sigh, you finally opened your eyes to meet his countenance. "You could. I wouldn't complain."

He shook his head gently. "Whatever shall I do with you?"

"Everything." One hand clutched the memory box, while the other trailed along his chest, settling on his covered collarbones. "But I understand you have vital duties, as do I with my own responsibilities."

"Thank you, Y/N, for allowing me to bring you into my realm. Your devotion for the Dreaming is immeasurable, I cherish it with all that I am."

"The Dreaming is you," you said with a smile. "How could I not adore it?"

Every word you spoke to him, so honest and filled with humanity's most precious light, never failed to make him—the Lord of Dreams, an ever-darker creature—happier than he ever thought he deserved to be.

"I must leave you now, my love. Take heart, for I will seek you in your dreams.”

You nodded, letting your hand fall to your side. "I love you, Morpheus. You know that, don't you?"

"I do. And my love for you, my dear, transcends the very fabric of existence, encompassing all realms, both dreamt and waking."

He pulled you close for one last, lingering kiss before reluctantly letting you go.

"Ever the poet," you remarked with a grin. "Just one of the countless things I like about you."

"Are you attempting to keep me here with you?"

“Is it working?”

He let out a soft chuckle. "I am afraid not. But wherever you go, I will follow."

"That's enough, I suppose."

For a moment longer, you looked deeply into each other's eyes as a wordless understanding passed between you. Then, Morpheus's sand reappeared, rising from the ground at his feet and gradually swirling around his form. You stepped back, giving his powers room to work, as a cloud of grains swallowed him completely. In an instant, the sand twirled and dissipated, leaving no trace of Morpheus as he vanished back to his realm.

You exhaled, feeling a complex blend of satisfaction and wistful melancholy.

Hal's B&B stood just a few feet away. As you retrieved your phone from your bag and powered it on, you were astonished to find that barely a few hours had passed since leaving the hotel in Georgia. Morpheus had mentioned that time flowed differently in the Dreaming, but it was still mind-boggling to realize you'd spent seven days in his company, only to essentially travel back in time.

With a final loving glance at the box, you carefully tucked it into your bag and set off. The house's door stood unlocked, and as you entered, Hal's voice greeted you warmly as soon as you crossed the threshold.

"Welcome back!" He exclaimed enthusiastically. "How was the Cereal Convention? I heard it was brimming with fascinating events."

If only he knew the mayhem you had witnessed there. "Fascinating? That doesn't even begin to describe it.".

You wondered if the news had reported anything about the man who had taken his own life in the car, or if they had even remotely mentioned the rest of the cult, now cursed by Morpheus to a lifetime of regrets.

"I bet," he said mischievously. "Rose told me you got quite a pleasant surprise."

You blinked in confusion. "Pardon?"

"Come now, no need to be coy, sweetheart. You know secrets don't stay hidden for long in this house."

You realized Rose must have concocted a story to account for your absence. Whatever tale she had spun, you found yourself at a loss for how to navigate this unexpected situation. 

“Well…”

"Your boyfriend showed up unexpectedly to pick you up, didn’t he? Now that's what I call romantic!"

Oh.

You had to admit, that wasn't entirely inaccurate. "You've caught me red-handed."

He graciously helped you remove your jacket as you clutched your bag tightly, guarding it as if it contained your most precious possessions, which couldn't be nearer to the truth.

"No wonder you look radiant. I'd recognize that glow anywhere."

"What can I say? He has a flair for dramatic appearances."

As you entered the dining room, you found only Chantal and Zelda at the table, their brunch plates cleared. An unusual hush blanketed the house, a stark departure from its typical bustling energy.

“Hey girls.”

“Good morning, Y/N,” Chantal replied cordially. "Zelda says hello as well."

"Where's everyone else? Have they not risen yet?"

Hal joined them, gesturing invitingly towards an empty chair. "Ah, you've missed quite a bit. You won't believe what's happened."

Taking a seat beside him at the table, you narrowed your eyes. "Nothing bad, I hope?"

"No, no, quite the opposite. You see... it's about Lyta; she's given birth."

Your jaw dropped so suddenly that you half-expected it to clatter onto the floor. How could Lyta have delivered her baby so quickly? Could her time with her husband in the Dreaming have stretched longer, similar to your own experience with the King of Dreams?

“What…?”

"I know. Crazy, right? Did you even know she was pregnant? I don't think Rose ever noticed either."

"I didn't," you replied. "It's generally not something you easily miss... though, I've read about cryptic pregnancies before.”

"Yes, but can a belly grow that big overnight? It wouldn't be the strangest thing I've seen lately, but…"

You pursed your lips, wracking your brain for a plausible explanation for such an extraordinary occurrence. Yet, try as you might, no rational justification presented itself.

"Rose and Jed accompanied Barbie and Ken to the hospital," Chantal interjected.

"We're heading there in a couple of hours,” Hal said. “Are you free? You're welcome to come with us."

You agreed without hesitation. "Absolutely. I've got plenty of time before my next appointment with Andrew, so I'm in."

"Great! We're all eager to meet the little one."

Despite the maelstrom of thoughts in your mind, you chose to set aside your confusion. There was little point in fixating on inexplicable events, especially since you'd come to understand that the Dreaming's magic and uniqueness often transcended conventional reasoning.

Eager to keep your mind occupied, you insisted on helping Hal with the cleaning, brushing aside his protests. After your ample rest, staying active appealed to you more than idling about in the living room. As he washed the dishes, you meticulously dried the tableware and set everything neatly in its place. Hal hummed random songs intermittently, his voice filling the kitchen with cheerfulness and positivity.

"So, this boyfriend of yours. Does he travel often?" Hal inquired, passing you a freshly washed glass.

"Mm, you could say he's practically omnipresent," you replied with a knowing smile.

"He must have quite an important job," Hal observed, his tone a mix of curiosity and admiration.

"It's vital, indeed. His work shapes the very fabric of our existence."

Realizing you had inadvertently revealed more than intended, you bit your tongue. Fortunately, Hal didn't seem inclined to pry further.

"I admire people like that. Those who can truly change the world."

"You have that power too, in your own way."

"I'm not so sure about that," Hal replied modestly. "Though I must admit, I'm finally considering selling this place."

Your eyes widened in surprise. "Really? You're going to sell your grandmother's house?"

Hal chuckled. "I've been thinking; dreams can really change your perspective. No matter how bizarre they get."

You gave his upper arm a friendly squeeze. "Whatever path you choose, I'm confident it'll be the right one for you."

"I haven't made any final decisions yet, but I'm now open to giving my career a real shot. Who knows? Maybe next year you'll hear my name as the greatest Broadway performer of all time."

"I can absolutely see that happening. You shine on stage, Hal. I'm sure I've mentioned that before."

The conversation flowed naturally, weaving through various topics, from Hal's future aspirations to your creative pursuits and life in London. Amidst the discussion, he brought up the unusual dream experience that he and the others had collectively undergone, featuring Rose and the Vortex in action. Remarkably, they all vividly recalled the events leading up to Morpheus's attempt to halt Rose's power, but none of them could adequately describe or explain why—or how—this dream had manifested for all of them at once.

His willingness to openly discuss the event with you, regardless of your apparent status as an outsider and his unawareness of your actual involvement, left you astounded. Although he intentionally kept his descriptions vague, they unanimously agreed that Rose had been rather special since her arrival. 

You refrained from confirming or denying it. While the truth was irrefutable, you were reluctant to raise further questions about a girl who had already endured so much on her own.

The dream had left an indelible mark on each of them, sparking a self-reflection and personal development. Apparently, cracks had begun to show in Barbie and Ken's relationship, and Hal was confident it was only a matter of time before it crumbled completely. This revelation didn't surprise you, as you'd harbored reservations about Ken from your very first encounter.

As the late morning wore on, you carved out a private moment in your room. Seated on the bed, you gazed at Morpheus's gifts, a broad smile illuminating your face and a bright sparkle dancing in your eyes. You picked up the golden bangle, turning it over in your hands to look at its minimalist design. Despite its simplicity, it was one of the most beautiful pieces of jewelry you'd ever seen, with its diamond-like stars twinkling brilliantly in the sunlight. As you slipped it onto your wrist, you marveled at its perfect fit, neither too loose nor too tight. It sat snugly against your skin, complementing your mother's leafy bracelet perfectly, as if it were crafted specifically for this pairing. Considering Morpheus's particular attention to detail regarding your appearance, you realized that this harmonious combination was no accident, but rather a deliberate choice on his part.

You missed him deeply, craving his presence with an intensity that eclipsed even your need for breath. It was natural, given that you had been virtually inseparable during your time together, except for the brief absences he was compelled to make. 

Still, you found yourself contemplating your relationship from a new angle, considering the prospect of deepening your bond with him. Was it even possible for a mortal to unite in marriage with an Endless?

Theoretically, given the universal rule that barred Nada from being his lover, you might conclude the answer was no.  Nevertheless, Morpheus had speculated that your Goddess DNA could have shielded you from the dreadful fate his ex had endured as punishment for her transgression.

Ruminating on the matter excessively would only result in mental fatigue.

Shortly thereafter, you journeyed to the hospital with Hal, Chantal, and Zelda, feeling strangely fidgety since leaving the house. You couldn't pinpoint the source of your sudden unease, yet you were convinced it wasn't tied to any specific ill omen. There was simply an odd, indecipherable voice in the recesses of your mind, somehow linked to Lyta and the newborn child. You sensed that the baby's unusual conception, coupled with the Dreaming's essence flowing through its small body, had heightened your innate sensitivity, likely stemming from your deep affinity with Morpheus's realm and the Dream King himself.

Upon arrival, you found Rose and Jed already visiting Lyta and her newborn son, while Barbie and Ken waited patiently in the lobby for their turn. Barbie's characteristic cheerfulness and signature smile masked an entirely different story lurking behind her eyes. Ken appeared oblivious to her distress, his nonchalant demeanor indicating either genuine ignorance or—more likely—a callous disregard for her feelings.

Men like him were utterly contemptible, nothing more than walking deceptions.

The door to Lyta's room creaked open, prompting Barbie to spring to her feet and stride forward, Ken trailing behind. Rose and Jed emerged from around the corner, looking refreshed; their nightmarish ordeals hadn't been enough to break their spirits.

“My turn!” Barbie chirped, her laughter bubbling up.

"Prepare yourself," Rose noted with a smile. "He's pretty cute."

Ken exchanged a playful, masculine handshake and fist bump with Jed. “Oh, we are ready.”

From your seated position, you caught a glimpse of Barbie vanishing around the corner. Her voice dropped drastically, taking on a serious and resentful tone. “Uh, it’s one at a time.”

Ken's face fell, and you couldn't suppress a flicker of satisfaction. Bravo, Barbie!

“Wha… Oh, come on. Babe! Baby, it was just a dream!”

Glancing at Hal, you noticed he was equally captivated by the unfolding drama. "See? I told you," he whispered.

"Do I really want to know what he's referring to?" You asked.

"Oh, that he was caught being literally blown by another woman in his car? No, I don't think you want to know."

Your jaw clenched instantly. "Well, I'll be damned."

Chantal and Zelda, as composed as ever, exuded the aura of gothic countesses in their distinctive black dresses and veils. You'd grown accustomed to their dark appearance, finding them both incredibly beautiful and sophisticated.

Rose and Jed joined you in the waiting room, the girl’s eyes meeting yours with a silent understanding.

“How are they doing?” Hal queried, adjusting his position in the chair.

“Great,” she answered. “The hospital’s releasing them tonight and then we’ll fly home tomorrow.”

“Oh, so soon?” Chantal exclaimed.

Indeed, it felt as if no time had passed since you first met Rose. You'd grown so attached to her that it seemed you'd known her for years, not mere days.

“To New Brunswick,” Hal concluded. “How far is that from New York?”

“Mm, less than an hour. Why?”

“I don’t know, I had this dream last night and now I’m thinking, what if I sell the house and move back?”

Evidently, Hal's indecision about his future plans had dissipated, and his mind was now set on a clear course of action.

Rose's eyes lit up with delight, while Zelda and Chantal exchanged a meaningful look. Words were superfluous between them; Zelda's face, though usually expressionless except for her shy smile, conveyed all her companion needed to know with subtle nuances that only Chantal could interpret.

“We’ll buy the house,” she declared.

A collective gasp of shock rippled through those present, with Hal himself rendered speechless by such an unexpected announcement. The initial bewilderment quickly gave way to joyful smiles as everyone recognized how perfectly all the pieces were falling into place.

Your heart swelled with joy as you beheld the radiant expressions adorning the faces around you, a sight that filled you with an overwhelming sense of fulfillment.

As time wore on, Hal, Chantal, and Zelda took turns visiting Lyta and her unnamed newborn. Barbie's despondency had resurfaced, even as she tried to hide it from the others. Ken persistently badgered her to accept that he meant no harm, but any self-respecting woman would banish a man who dreamed of another straight to Lucifer's hell.

As you approached the vending machine for a drink, Rose excused herself and followed, clearly seeking a private conversation out of earshot from the rest of the group.

“Hey.”

"Hey," you answered with a warm smile. "How are you holding up?"

"I'm okay. I'm still a bit shaken when I think about everything that happened, but... Jed's here with me. That's all that matters."

"He's adorable, by the way," you commented.

"You should've seen him when he was five."

You cracked open your favorite caffeinated beverage, offering Rose one as well. She declined with a shake of her head, her eyes fixed on her feet, revealing a nervousness about what she wanted to say.

When she remained silent, you broke the awkward moment. "Thank you for covering for me," you said gratefully. "You didn't have to do that."

"Well, I figured they'd ask where you went. I wasn't sure when you'd be back, so."

"I must say, you're quite talented when it comes to coming up with excuses on the spot."

Rose laughed softly.  "It wasn't easy. I also had to tell them Gilbert returned to his country due to an "urgent family matter."”

“Ouch.”

“Yeah.”

You leaned against the vending machine, sipping your drink as another silence settled between you. Rose crossed her arms, shifting restlessly with her foot—an anxious tic that only accentuated her growing discomfort.

You sighed, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face. "Rose, it's okay. Whatever you want to ask me, go ahead."

"I'm sorry. I don't mean to pry."

You shook your head reassuringly. "It's fine, really. I imagine you have quite a few questions."

"I hope I'm not overstepping, but... is there something going on between you and Lord Morpheus?"

While the question didn't catch you off guard, you considered your options. You could have lied, keeping your relationship with the Endless private and shielding your love from potential judgment. Rose had likely witnessed only the darkness surrounding the Lord of Dreams, unaware of the heart of gold it concealed; a heart heavily scarred from suffering and betrayal.

Ultimately, you decided against it.

A faint smile played on your lips. "Yes, Rose. We are together."

"Oh. Wow, I... I had a feeling, but..."

"You didn't want to jump to conclusions."

“Yeah.”She paused, collecting her thoughts. “It’s just… there's so much I don't understand. When Dream said Jed and I are ‘Children of the Endless’, what did he even mean?"

How could you explain it to her, considering her great-grandfather was one of the cruelest entities in the entire universe, willing to callously manipulate their own sibling and any mortal they came across?

"Is it related to the golden-eyed man Unity saw in her dreams?"

"I'm afraid I can't provide a definitive answer to that," you confessed, feigning ignorance. "In a way, you and your brother are very special, Rose. That’s all I know.”

She mulled over your words, clearly unsatisfied with the explanation, yet accepting it as sufficient for her current needs.

"He's not… really that bad, is he? Morpheus."

“No. He’s not.”

"I know he didn't really want to kill me. I was damaging his world without even knowing what I was doing. It was all my fault to begin with."

You gently touched her elbow, your hand warm against her skin. "You didn't ask to become a Vortex, it was just an unexpected twist of fate you didn't deserve."

"Yes, but I still hurt my friends. Lyta, Hector... even Jed, Hal, everyone around me."

Your hand slid along her wrist as you took her hand in yours. "It was the Vortex. Not you."

"But I was the Vortex. When Dream took Hector, I hated him. I thought he was a monster. Lyta was suffering, and I blamed him for it."

“And now?”

She hesitated, contemplating her response. "Now… I don't, really. It was harsh, but I was the one who set all this in motion. He did what he had to, I guess."

Your smile widened. “Rose…”

"And Unity," she continued. "She gave her life just to save me."

The pain she endured defied consolation, and a persistent guilt would likely shadow her for the foreseeable future.

"She was happy, you know," you revealed. "And very proud of you."

“Unity…?”

"I won't pretend to understand what you're feeling right now. The trauma you've endured is not something that can be easily erased. But I can tell you this: your great-grandmother is at peace.She made her sacrifice for you without any regrets.”

Her eyes glistened with unshed tears. Having weathered numerous losses throughout her life, Rose had honed the ability to remain resilient in most situations, a strength she maintained not only for herself but also for those she held dear.

“Thank you for telling me.”

Her voice quivered, and you pulled her into a comforting hug. She gratefully melted into your embrace, finding solace in the warmth she could no longer receive from her mother's arms.

“You’re welcome, Rosie.”

Lyta's baby was a true delight, innocent and tiny, with cheeks so soft they resembled the most delicate confection. You could feel the Dreaming's traces on the infant, yet to anyone else, he appeared perfectly human.  The moment you drew closer, his little hand instinctively grasped your finger, awakening an unexpected maternal, protective instinct in you. Lyta simply smiled, observing how you'd make a wonderful mother someday, a comment you met with a nervous laugh.

The strange gut discomfort you felt vanished as soon as you left the hospital. You had the impression that something about Lyta was not ordinary, but you couldn't quite discern what it meant. Perhaps it was a consequence of your travel between the Dreaming and the Waking World, causing unusual perceptions as you readjusted.

That evening, Lyta and her newborn son were discharged as expected. While Hal finalized the house sale with Chantal and Zelda, you joined the group for a pleasant conversation in the living room, idly toying with your new bracelet as you slid it up and down your wrist. You thoroughly enjoyed your time at the B&B, appreciating the company of wonderful people (with one notable exception) who helped brighten Lyta's mood. The loss of her husband had left an indelible mark, and you admired how everyone tactfully avoided the sensitive subject, refraining from asking questions about the baby's father.

Barbie looked somewhat distracted, her face less vibrant than usual, a subtle alteration that seemed to go unnoticed. She maintained a facade of joy and vivacity, barely interacting with Ken, who sat uncomfortably close to you on the couch. You felt urged to speak with her, but that would have to wait for a more appropriate time.

Despite the tragedies and misadventures he'd faced, Jed was an incredibly adaptable and optimistic kid. His face beamed with smiles, clearly overjoyed at being reunited with his beloved sister. At some point in the evening, you engaged in an enthusiastic discussion with him about popular superhero movies and comics. Rose playfully teased Jed about how, under Gault's influence, he had impersonated a Marvel-esque version of The Sandman. Her lighthearted comment drew genuine laughter from both of you, and Jed rolled his eyes, insisting he had been incredibly cool and powerful in that form.

As night fell, everyone retired to their rooms. Lyta excused herself first, cradling her precious newborn away from the adoring eyes. Rose followed shortly after, and Jed was offered the vacant attic room, formerly Fiddler's Green's quarters. 

Sliding beneath the covers of a bed that wasn't the grand canopy in the Dreaming felt oddly unfamiliar to you. You longed for the soft caress of your enchanted nightgown, the mesmerizing sparkle of crystals, and the soothing ebb and flow of gradient waves on the walls. It seemed paradoxical to long for a place you visited nightly, yet a strange void persisted inside you, like an emptiness you couldn't quite articulate.

With heavy eyelids, you succumbed to slumber, hoping to find Morpheus awaiting your return in the realm of dreams.

You felt weightless, adrift in an ocean of billowing fabrics that obscured the path ahead. Wandering without direction, you pressed forward into the unknown. A distant cry pierced the air, beckoning you closer. As you continued, the fabrics parted, revealing a crib in the distance. The surroundings were hazy and barren, bathed in an ethereal, blue glow.

The more you walked, the farther the crib seemed to get. No matter how hard you tried to reach it, it was as if you were walking on an infinite treadmill. The child inside was whimpering, pleading for you to arrive. 

You pressed on, yet the distance remained unchanged. Anxiety constricted your chest, making it hard to breathe, despite the absence of any visible threat. 

Then the crib began to fade, enveloped by a soft, nebula-like cloud, vanishing into nothingness. You were left uncertain about what you had witnessed, wondering if the baby represented Lyta's son or simply acted as a subconscious symbol; perhaps indicating fresh starts and possibilities. 

Unable to decipher its significance, you endeavored to interpret the dream's significance to no avail. As the vision continued, your consciousness gradually reasserted itself, and you immediately transitioned into an entirely new dreamscape.

You stood in an expansive, surreal forest where trees spiraled upward like great pillars, their trunks woven from shimmering threads of silver and dark purple. The sky above pulsed with colors you'd never seen before—streaks of emerald, amethyst, and soft coral flowing and colliding like auroras. A gentle mist blanketed the forest ground, and as you moved, flowers bloomed beneath your feet. With each step, you ventured deeper into the woods, where strange, beautiful creatures drifted past in the mist, unusual animals with translucent bodies and magical eyes. You felt at peace now, as if this place knew you, welcomed you.

Whatever the crib represented, it couldn't be anything sinister.

The fog lifted, and your heart skipped a beat as you noticed a figure nearby. From the shadows between the trees, Morpheus emerged, his presence both distinct and seamlessly integrated into the scenery. Clad in black that melded with the night's darkness, he seemed to carry the very stars in his eyes and attire. As he approached, the dream's colors intensified, responding to him like a lover's touch.

Your breath itched as he stopped before you, his gaze soft yet filled with an intensity that only Morpheus could hold. You reached out instinctively, your fingers brushing his cool hand. He took it gently, as though grazing something precious. The bracelet he gifted you gleamed golden alongside your mother's cuff. 

"Your dreams grow more beautiful with each passing night, in ever more resplendent tapestries," he murmured, his voice resonating through the forest.

A smile lit your face, and he pulled you close, his arms wrapping around you to bring you into his loving casing. You rested your head against his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. The dreamscape reacted again, a gentle breeze sweeping through the trees, sending petals into a soft dance around you.

"Every time I'm with you, I feel complete," you whispered.

Morpheus tilted your chin up, his thumb brushing your cheek as his eyes softened with a tenderness that was becoming more frequent. "Then let this moment last for as long as you're asleep," he said, his lips meeting yours in a kiss as warm and infinite as the dream itself. 

You cuddled against him, sinking into the tranquility and depth of your connection, as the environment continued to pulse with revitalizing energy. 

As you parted, he held your face in his hands, his cerulean irises tracing your every feature as though etching this moment into his memory. "I am bound to you, in dreams and beyond," he uttered genty. "No place, nor time, can keep me from finding you."

"Never cease seeking me. Please."

"Never, my love. And you, forever call upon my name, through the realms of fantasy and waking.”

It was rather striking to reflect on how Rose and Lyta had arrived in Cape Kennedy as a pair and were now departing the B&B as a quartet, a poignant example of dreams' transformative power. Their journey exemplified how the seemingly impossible can indeed materialize into reality.

Hal assured he would join them once everything was properly settled and his belongings were packed, ready for the grand opening of a new live show; the next chapter of his life.

While you couldn't reveal to Rose the book she'd one day write, you encouraged her to pursue graduate school, confident in her potential for extraordinary accomplishments. Your time together had been brief, yet saying goodbye to her tugged at your heartstrings. What had begun as a simple work collaboration in Florida had flourished into something far more meaningful; you'd cultivated new friendships that you hoped would stand the test of time, enduring long after this unexpected adventure.

In the blink of an eye, the house suddenly felt much emptier.

Throughout the day, you noticed Barbie's conspicuous absence from the common areas, rarely catching a glimpse of her around the house. Ken mentioned that Barbie was feeling unwell and had decided to recuperate in their room. The situation raised suspicion, especially since Ken seemed more intent on hovering around you in the kitchen, attempting to engage you in unwelcome conversation. Oblivious to your signals, he disregarded your curt responses and clearly disinterested tone, persisting in his efforts at dialogue.

"You know, I was thinking, you haven't seen much of Cape Kennedy, have you? I could take you on a tour one of these days."

You froze with your cup of tea suspended midair, staring blankly at him as Hal cleared his throat.

"I appreciate the offer, but I have work commitments," you replied, your tone icy.

"Ah, yes, of course. But maybe I could, you know, offer you a ride after dinner one evening?"

You felt utterly disgusted, the tea suddenly losing its flavor in your mouth. Ken's partner was confined to their room, claiming to be ill. But here he was, attempting to flirt with you behind Barbie's back.

His behavior was reprehensible. You abandoned your drink, pouring it down the sink and hastily rinsing the mug.

"Oh! What about dining out? I know a lovely restaurant by the beach."

Ugh.

You considered answering with more excuses to make him desist, but you knew such tactics wouldn't deter a man like him. Ultimately, you decided that a razor-sharp response was your only way out.

"Look, I don't think my boyfriend would appreciate your persistence. And believe me, he's not the forgiving type."

Ken's grin faltered, though he still tried to maintain his charm. "I was just—"

"You're asking me out while your girl is sick upstairs. How considerate of you."

Hal, clearly intrigued by the unfolding scene, became more attentive, his eyes fixed on the two of you.

"You may be accustomed to women fawning over you, but let me be crystal clear: I wouldn't consider someone like you even if you were the last man on Earth."

Ken stood frozen, his smile fixed and hollow, utterly speechless. He seemed incapable of formulating any coherent sentence, caught off guard by your blunt rejection.

"Now, if you'll excuse me," you said, turning on your heel and striding away.

Without looking back, you left Ken to contemplate your rebuff as you climbed the stairs, the kitchen falling into a telling hush. There was only one pressing matter you wanted to address now: Barbie. If Ken was failing to provide the care and support she needed, perhaps a friendly visit could lift her spirits more effectively than her inconsiderate partner could.

You recognized that Ken's intentions weren't specifically malicious, but his casual fantasizing about other women and viewing dates outside his relationship as normal proved he was incapable of full commitment. How Barbie had managed to tolerate him for so long was incomprehensible, but you couldn't help admiring her patience.

You paused before her room, knocking softly a few times, and waited for a response that never came. Though you surmised she might be asleep, an intuition whispered otherwise.

"Barbie?" you called gently. "It's Y/N. Are you all right in there?"

Soft footsteps padded across the floor, followed by the click of the door's lock. As it swung open, Barbie showed up, looking visibly drained. Her face, devoid of its usual makeup, and her refined clothes replaced by simple pajamas, presented a notable difference from her typical polished appearance.

“Hey!”

Her forced glee hit you right in the chest, totally unconvincing, with puffy eyes revealing recent tears.

"Hey. Is everything okay?" You inquired again.

"Yeah! It's just a headache. Nothing serious!"

You exhaled softly, your brow furrowing with concern. "Would you like to talk about it?"

"It's nothing, really! I just need some rest," she insisted with another artificial grin, her voice wavering slightly.

"Barbie, I know I'm still relatively new to you, and you might not feel comfortable opening up to me. But if you need anything at all, even just a listening ear, I'm here for you."

She looked at you in silence, her veneer of cheerfulness intact but slowly crumbling. Her smile faded, lips curving downward as her head dropped in defeat. “Would you like to come in?”

Relieved, you nodded. "If I may."

“Sure.”

She stepped aside, inviting you in. As you entered, the door closed behind you, cocooning the two of you in privacy. Barbie walked to the rumpled bed and sat down, patting the spot in front of her with the familiarity of an old friend at a sleepover. On one of the nightstands, an empty mug stood sentinel beside a few untouched, stale cookies.

"I hope I didn't disturb you," you said, settling onto the mattress.

“No, I wasn’t sleeping at all.”

"What's wrong? I promise you, anything you say will remain confidential."

Barbie let out a chuckle that quickly morphed into a sniffle. "I feel like I can't confide in anyone. People would think I’m silly for even considering this."

You moved forward, tentatively placing your hand on hers. "It can't be foolish if it's keeping you locked into your room."

She shook her head slowly, her eyes welling up as tears began to trickle down her cheeks. "Have you ever felt like you've lost something important, something that doesn't even exist?"

“What do you mean?”

She released a desperate laugh, a hysterical sound that bore no resemblance to genuine mirth. "I... I used to have this beautiful dream. I had many incredible friends, talking animals that cared for and protected me. Can you imagine?”

You offered an encouraging smile, listening attentively.

"My closest companion was Martin Tenbones, a creature resembling a giant dog... or whatever he was meant to be. You probably think I'm crazy, don't you?"

"Not at all. I'm intrigued and would love to hear more about your dream world," you replied warmly.

"It's hard to put into words. It wasn't just a fantasy, it felt like another life. A place where I could be more than just 'Barbie', but finally myself."

"You're speaking about it in the past tense..."

Her tears flowed more freely. "I’m afraid I can’t dream about it anymore."

Oh…

"Last night, I had no dreams. I know it may not seem like a big deal, but I can tell that something has severed my connection to that world.”

Having witnessed your own dream beach reduced to an arid desert, you deeply empathized with Barbie's attachment to her personal subconscious place. Yet, you were fortunate to be with the Lord of Dreams, who could easily restore it to its original splendor, perhaps even enhance its beauty. Morpheus guided you through the Vortex's perils, extracting you from the Dreaming before your link to it could be irreparably damaged.

“I had a mission, something very important to do. And now I’m lost.”

“Barbie…”

"Ken wouldn't understand," she said with a hiccup. "He never does."

You squeezed her hand comfortingly, warmth spreading between your palms.

"I'm sorry. I told you this would sound stupid."

"Well, it's not," you replied with conviction. "As someone who understands the significance of dreams, I can tell you that your sadness is completely justified."

“Really…?”

"Yes. And please, forgive my frankness, but what do you see in a man like Ken?"

Her lower lip quivered as she wiped away her tears. "Honestly, I don't even know anymore. I thought we were perfect together, as ‘cliché as it can be, given our names."

You shrugged. "Names are just names. I doubt that's why you chose him."

"No. He made me feel special, loved… but I fear that was only a beautiful fairy tale. I knew he enjoyed flirting, but this? It’s just too much for me."

You hesitated to disclose Ken's invitation, fearing it would only exacerbate her distress. Considering her fragile emotional state, you couldn't bring yourself to be so insensitive.

"You deserve far better than what he's giving you. I can see that plain as day."

"I don't know. Maybe I set myself up for this. I should have seen the signs."

"We all make mistakes, we're only human. I've certainly had my share of faults in past relationships."

Barbie's lips quirked into a genuine smile, her first in a while. "Do you think I can find someone who'll treat me like a princess in the real world, too?"

"Not a princess. More like the magnificent queen you truly are."

Barbie chortled, and you joined in, feeling the atmosphere in the room finally lighten. "I mean it. You're beautiful, fun, sweet, and open to imaginative possibilities. You don't need a knight in shining armor, real princesses are perfectly capable of writing their own happy endings. Ken doesn't realize how lucky he is."

She swallowed hard, brushing away fresh tears with trembling hands.

"This is your life, Barbie, and I can't tell you what to do. I just hope you'll make the right choice for yourself. That guy's a perfect idiot, too immature to see how amazing you are."

As you stood from the bed, she sighed shakily, drawing her knees to her chest and curling into a ball. "Y/N… can I ask you something absurd?”

“Of course.”

“Do you think I'll ever be able to dream again?"

As you opened the door, you glanced back at Barbie's huddled form. Without Morpheus' insight, you couldn't fathom the fate of dreamers severed from the Dreaming by the Vortex. Lacking this crucial knowledge, you found yourself unable to offer a concrete answer to alleviate her sorrow.

Nevertheless, your heart told you there was only one logical, compassionate answer.

“I’m sure of it.”

The moment you left her to her own reflections, Barbie silently opened the bedside table's drawer, rummaging for an object she had discreetly tucked between books. As she retrieved it, she stared at the rose quartz pendant in her hand, now cold and lifeless, its power inexorably spent.

She clutched the pendant to her chest, inhaling deeply before exhaling, her resolve crystallizing.

As your first week in Florida concluded, your collaboration with Andrew grew more intensive with each meeting. More briefs poured in, shaping the project's trajectory for its official launch. When the first prototypes emerged from the workshop, it became clear that additional revisions were necessary. You had to conced that some of your ideas hadn't translated from concept to physical materials as seamlessly as you'd hoped. Undeterred, you offered to refine the sketches, either by incorporating crucial missing elements or starting anew with concepts that seemed to spring effortlessly from your imagination. This time, Andrew's approval wasn't required; his expression alone conveyed that the newly sewn sets embodied the perfection he had envisioned.

Meanwhile, Ken avoided approaching you in the house, hanging his head like a scolded puppy and barely mumbling greetings in the mornings. The atmosphere grew tense as Barbie silently declared her breakup with him by moving out of their shared room and into Rose's and Lyta's vacant chamber. Unsurprisingly, Ken's futile efforts to win Barbie back were nothing short of ridiculous, every excuse failing spectacularly, as if he were hurling himself against an invisible, elastic barrier.

To compound matters, Hal—Ken's sole confidant—had finally summoned the courage to permanently leave. With newfound confidence, he was determined to reunite with Rose and her family, bolstered by his belief that he could make it on Broadway. 

You had to admit, upon seeing Hal fully prepared with his suitcase and giant bag, he would likely be the person you'd miss the most in Cape Kennedy. Although Gilbert had quickly become your favorite (for reasons that now made much more sense), Hal had treated you like a best friend from the instant you emerged from Andrew's vehicle, seeing past your 'celebrity' status and addressing the authentic you with complete naturalness.

Moved by an irrepressible need to repay his kindness, you offered to create the perfect costume for his Dolly persona in the future, a gesture that made Hal's eyes sparkle with pure excitement. The prospect of wearing your design on stage made him feel like a star, and you eagerly anticipated seeing him perform for audiences worldwide.

As the days passed, the house grew more solitary, transforming into an unrecognizable place. Even Barbie decided to depart for New York by the tenth day of your stay, unwilling to endure Ken's omnipresence and compelled to rediscover herself through a new beginning. One by one, they were all witnessing their lives completely turned upside down, for better or worse, by the hand of Destiny. A fate that was clearly set in motion by the Vortex's influence, affecting their Waking World just as much as their dreams.

"Thank you, Y/N. You're a sweetheart," Barbie uttered gently, embracing you on the threshold. Her hug was so tight it nearly squeezed the breath from your lungs. "Let's keep in touch. I'd love to see you again sometime.”

"Absolutely," you said, gently rubbing her back. "Take good care of yourself, Barbie."

“You too.”

As the taxi pulled up, Barbie strode out of the house without a backward glance. Inside, Ken slumped on the couch, his face a portrait of total defeat. He knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that he had royally messed up, with no hope of mending the rift he had caused.

Barbie radiated a diva-like aura with her impeccably styled hair, flawless lipstick, and chic sunglasses that gave her the stunning look often adorning magazine covers. She waved at you, Chantal, and Zelda before entering the car, occupying the backseat with the grace of a regal swan. A large pink pendant hung from her neck, one she had never worn before, glistening and glowing under the sun.

In fact, it shimmered more brilliantly than any ordinary gemstone, causing your own necklace to suddenly warm against your skin. Before you could take a closer look, Barbie was gone, leaving her former home behind for an uncertain future.

You shook your head, dismissing that persistent feeling of déjà vu. Your attachment to the Dreaming was simply playing tricks on your mind, causing you to see things that weren't actually there.

Probably.

During your final days in Florida, you toiled relentlessly at Andrew's workshop, scarcely finding time to return to the B&B for rest. Chantal and Zelda seemed now solitary figures, quietly enjoying their drinks in the hushed house. Ken often disappeared into town, presumably in pursuit of a new conquest to seek solace in new companionship. Yet they looked unperturbed, their sweet smiles ever-present and nary a complaint voiced. 

While they genuinely missed their friends, Chantal and Zelda were self-sufficient women who found complete contentment in each other's company.

On the eve of your return to London, you had another vivid dream. While the recurring image of a newborn crying in an empty, bluish space persisted, your nightly visits to the Dreaming were becoming increasingly lifelike.

Morpheus accompanied you on most of your explorations, walking beside you or standing amidst the evocative landscapes of his realm. He always welcomed you with the warmest expression the Lord of Dreams could muster, his subtle smiles illuminating his face at your arrival.

After much hesitation, you finally broached the subject with Morpheus about Barbie and how the Vortex had removed her from the Dreaming. 

"Is there anything you can do to help her?"

Morpheus shook his head, giving you a thoughtful but firm response, rooted in his views on the purpose and temporality of dreams. “Each dream has its time, its arc, and its end. Her connection to The Land was severed as part of a larger design, one that is beyond any individual's desires, even mine."

Noticing your crestfallen countenance, he elaborated. “Dreams are both gifts and lessons, my love. They are there to guide mortals, but they must also be let go when their purpose is fulfilled. To restore it now would be to disrupt the path she must walk."

"So, she's unable to return to her dreams?"

"One day, perhaps. A dream is alive only when it meets the dreamer’s true need."

You averted your gaze, allowing his words to settle in your mind. After a moment, you turned back to him, your eyes glistening with emotion. "If I were severed from this world and from you, it would be unbearable. I can't imagine my life without the Dreaming, I would probably die."

Your words deeply moved him, though he tried to conceal it behind his characteristic gravitas. "You would not be disconnected from me, my love. Not truly. No matter the forces at play, I told you I would always find you, in dreams or beyond them."

He reached out to touch your face, offering comfort and promise, acknowledging your compassion and worries without dismissing them. "If ever such a fate were threatened, I would bend the realms themselves to keep you close."

Your smile returned as your fingers toyed with the lapels of his coat. "You would, wouldn't you?"

"Even the King of Dreams is not immune to the fear of loss," he admitted. "And you possess a unique quality that no other mortal will ever match."

"Are you implying that the Dreaming would suffer without me?"

"Not only the Dreaming. I am its ruler, yet above all, I am a being irrevocably bound to your heart."

That very heart raced with exhilaration, sending waves of warmth cascading through your body like a gentle fireworks display.

"You’re so sweet,” you expressed.

“Sweet?”

You tilted your head. "I know you're all powerful and mighty, and that 'sweet' isn't typically associated with you. But with me, you're so wonderful that I doubt any other being in existence could ever compare."

He grinned mischievously, his eyes twinkling with veiled intentions. “Perhaps I should remind you of my true nature, my love. As befits the King of Nightmares.”

You laughed, crossing your arms with a glint of curiosity on your face. "Oh? Is that a challenge? Because, Your Majesty, I'm not one to run away so easily."

For a moment, silence blanketed the space between you. The air grew still, charged with electric anticipation as Morpheus's posture shifted. An otherworldly darkness seeped into the scene, dimming the ambient illumination. Cold moonlight took its place, casting elongated shadows on the ground. The world around you transformed into a vast canvas, painted in shades of deep blue and ink-black, completely bereft of stars.

With a flick of his hand, Morpheus stepped back. The space stretched into an endless void, where whispered secrets echoed and your surroundings dissolved into an illusion of midnight sky. His form began to transform, subtly at first. His robes billowed like storm clouds, infused with silver strands that glinted like trapped starlight. His eyes glowed with pale fire, and his hair flowed freely, no longer tethered by gravity.

Despite the imposing figure before you, you felt no fear. In fact, the beauty of it—the raw, infinite greatness—thrilled you to no end and made you shiver in awe rather than terror. He embodied everything he claimed to be: powerful, enigmatic, and fearsome—yet he remained, undeniably, the man you loved.

He circled you slowly, his breath ghosting over your ear as he leaned in from behind. His voice boomed, almost demonic, though unmistakably his own. "So bold… and so fragile. Will you not bend and yield to your Lord?"

You recognized this as an enthralling performance, a thrilling roleplay that left you completely spellbound.

"You are magnificent," you breathed, your voice brimming with admiration and something else. "Truly, I don’t need to tell you how willingly I'd surrender to you. You already know."

His hands wrapped around your waist, strong and secure. "It seems," he said with a wry smile, "that even the King of Nightmares cannot dissuade you."

"Never," you replied, tracing delicate patterns on his hands. "Not when I know that you'd never harm me."

His dark and menacing guise melted away, replaced by a soft chuckle as he reverted to his normal form. The inky blackness dissipated, giving way to the previously vibrant colors of the dreamscape.

With a touch of reverence, he lifted your hand to his lips. "Perhaps," he murmured, "I shall remain 'sweet' for you alone."

You threw your head back, sinking against his chest as laughter bubbled from your lips. Your eyes sparkled with immense happiness and love. "Now I wish I never had to wake up."

For the remainder of the night, Morpheus granted your wish, keeping you blissfully ensconced in the realm of fantasies.

As you settled into your seat on the plane home, you went through a curious distortion of time. The fortnight in Cape Kennedy and week in the Dreaming had passed in a blink, yet paradoxically left you feeling as though you'd been away for eons.

You were exhausted, the jet lag evidently taking its toll on you. Readjusting to your regular routine proved unexpectedly daunting, as you had to deal with frequent migraines and an unsettling tendency to nod off at inopportune moments throughout the day. 

You missed the friends you'd made, the cozy ambiance of the former B&B, and the tranquil Floridian nights that contrasted so starkly with London's bustling soundscape.

The newborn continued to make sporadic appearances in your dreams, but the crib remained just out of reach, its cryptic message undecipherable. Curiously, this recurring vision didn't unsettle you; upon waking, it often slipped from your mind entirely.

Upon returning home, you quickly established regular long-distance communication with Hal and Rose. They now shared a peaceful home as a family, along with Jed, Lyta, the baby, and an intriguing man—a friend of Rose's—who had seemingly won Hal's heart. Rose had finally submitted her college application and begun brainstorming ideas for her future book. Meanwhile, Hal was actively pursuing a career as a Broadway performer, eagerly anticipating news of a potential audition.

After carefully considering numerous options, Lyta finally settled on a name that perfectly suited her son: Daniel Hall.

Corbyn & Jones was busier than ever, inundating you with work the moment you stepped into the office. The company overflowed with orders and requests for new projects, which Ella presented as promising opportunities for the future. With the Fashion Show behind you and sales skyrocketing across online platforms, local stores, and social media, your friend decided to entrust you with an equally creative venture, one with the potential to become the company's crown jewel. Both figuratively and literally.

"Are you serious?" you asked, your eyes wide as you stared at her face in disbelief.

"I don't see why not. You've always had a passion for jewelry, and I distinctly remember you designing some back in high school."

"Those were just early experiments, hardly worth mentioning."

She grinned, casually tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "You used to say the same about all of your sketches. Yet here you are." 

You sighed, massaging your throbbing temples and stifling a yawn. "Fine, you've got a point. But I'm wondering, are we really prepared to take on more work? It's not exactly difficult for people to find quality accessories from other sources."

"We've received numerous requests for jewelry to complement our products. It's a bold move, but we can't afford to ignore our competitors."

You brought your finger to your lips, contemplating. "I guess you’re right."

"Look, I know you've just returned from Cape Kennedy and haven't had a chance to catch your breath, I can see how tired you are. Still, you're the only one I can trust with this," Ella explained. "Whenever I scroll through my social media feed, all I see are the same products being marketed as 'exclusive drop collections' by different brands or influencers, simply because they're trending. I don't want to slap our name on a generic necklace, bracelet or ring and claim we made it. I want something special, something that only you can create."

Ella had always been fiercely competitive. Seeing an opportunity to make a real impact, her eyes lit up with a reinvigorated enthusiasm.

"I'm not asking you to do anything complex, I swear. You have an excellent sense of style, and you're very distinctive. You emanate this constant aura that's simply goddess-like."

You couldn't help but chortle, amused by the unintended accuracy of her statement. Whatever she saw coming from you was no longer a coincidence, now that you were aware of your true origins.

"I'll cover the material costs, and Oliver has connections that could help with soldering services and gem sourcing. Perhaps you could do some research? Visit a few places, gather inspiration, and compile elements you find appealing?"

As Ella elaborated, you found yourself increasingly drawn to the idea. You couldn't shake the concern about managing deadlines with yet another project on your plate, but it was worth a try if it meant outperforming competitors and surpassing market projections.

"I've already got a couple of places in mind for you to check out."

Your gaze drifted to your wrist, where your mother's bracelet and Morpheus' bangle gleamed under the artificial light. With these treasures as inspiration, you realized you might already possess the guidance needed to excel in this new endeavor.

“Fine, let’s do it,” you declared.

"Really? You're on board?"

"I mean, you're still my boss. We might be friends, but that's no excuse for me to slack off or neglect my responsibilities. Besides, you might be onto something here, and I'm genuinely curious to give it a try."

Ella slammed her hand onto the desk with such force that you nearly jumped out of your seat.

"Ha! Those businesses better brace themselves. We've got a secret weapon right here!"

"Come on, Ella. I'm hardly a secret weapon."

"You're the best thing that's ever happened to us. And to me, because I've found my bestie again. I'm absolutely thrilled to be working with you!"

You nodded, a nostalgic smile playing on your lips. "Right. Remember how we used to daydream about this when we were teenagers?"

"How could I forget? I always wanted to run my own company with you as my creative genius. You'd tell me it was too good to be true, but I never stopped insisting it was possible. And now, look at us!"

"Indeed, I was wrong. I must admit, I was quite the pessimist back then."

Ella rose to her feet, placing her hands on her hips with an air of confidence and satisfaction. "Yeah, and I definitely prefer this version of you."

"I could take offense to that, but honestly, I feel the same way."

“Yaaaaas! Slay!!!”

The office door swung open, and Oliver strode in, clutching a handful of papers. His eyebrow arched quizzically at the scene before him. By now, you were certain he'd grown accustomed to his wife's antics, yet the expression on his face was absolutely priceless, especially as he caught sight of her, arms thrust triumphantly skyward.

"What's all this ruckus?"

"Oops, sorry, love. Was I too loud?"

"I'd wager they heard you clear across the street," Oliver quipped, his lips quirking into a sardonic smirk.

Ella waved off his comment, taking the papers he offered. "Is this the list you mentioned?"

"Yes. I assume you've already informed Y/N about our new quest?"

"Indeed, I have. We were just discussing it."

Oliver pushed his glasses up his nose, turning his attention to you. "Given Ella's reaction, I take it you've accepted our proposal."

Your friend’s bouncing movements reminded you of a cartoon character, the passage of years only enhancing her comedic charm.

You gracefully crossed your legs, settling into the swivel chair with your arms and back comfortably supported, ignoring the looming fatigue and headache. "When do I start?"

Once again, you found yourself wandering through an unknown landscape, a twilight meadow bathed in the deep, velvety indigo of night. The profound quiet was broken only by the occasional rustle of leaves as you stepped forward, drawn toward a soft radiance in the distance. Fireflies danced around you, their tiny lights twinkling like celestial guides along your path. The air carried a mysterious warmth, a gentle weight that felt both calming and comforting, as if something unseen were embracing you.

As you moved closer, the glow revealed itself to be a single flower blooming amidst the grass, its petals as bright and sparkly as moon dust. Intrigued, you knelt down, extending your fingers. The petals pulsed with a gentle rhythm, reminiscent of a soft heartbeat. Your hands hovered over it, sensing the energy of something alive, tender and delicate, yet infinitely strong. A deep connection stirred, an instinctive awareness that you were being entrusted with something precious.

When you touched the flower, warmth spread through your palms, wrists, and elbows, life itself flowing into your veins. You closed your eyes, breathing in the faint scent of lavender and sweetness. An overwhelming tenderness rose inside your heart: a love you couldn't describe, a caring that was simply boundless.

A delicate whisper drifted through the meadow, a soothing voice that seemed to come from both earth and sky. "This light now belongs to you," it echoed. "Soon, it will flourish. And so will you."

The flower dissolved, sinking into your chest like a subtle pulse settling inside your heart. You tried to speak, but your throat constricted, silencing any sound. A thin layer of bright blue fog descended, and then you heard it again, the familiar cry of a child, the now visible distant crib beckoning you.

You attempted to rise, but were anchored to the grass as if you were a deeply rooted tree. Strangely, you felt no desire to resist or struggle. A flicker of concern crossed your mind, yet an underlying calm reassured you that there was no cause for worry.

This time, your voice emerged, speaking a single name, the only one that occupied your thoughts.

“Daniel…?”

The baby neither reacted, cried, nor moved. Suddenly, silence blanketed the scene, and everything around you faded into nothingness.

You awoke, the residual warmness from your dream still occupying your chest—a mysterious sensation yet to be understood. However, as comforting as it felt, the moment you pushed yourself into a sitting position, reality struck. You were drenched in sweat, your nightgown clinging uncomfortably to your skin. A wave of nausea surged from the pit of your stomach, twisting your face into a grimace. 

You dismissed it as insignificant, attributing it to the minor anxiety that had followed you from the realm of dreams into the Waking World. The recurring presence of that child in your subconscious remained an enigma, leaving you uncertain about its nature. As Morpheus had explained, Daniel Hall's conception during Lyta's dreams forged an unbreakable bond between him and the dream realm. Could the newborn be reaching out to you in Morpheus' domain for some unknown reason?

Despite wracking your brain for answers, you were simply left with even more questions.

You tried to lie down again, pushing aside the bedsheets as you took deep breaths. Unfortunately, the queasiness persisted. Instead of easing, it grew more intense, significantly so.

And then you felt it, that dreadful urge to expel whatever was churning in your stomach. You leapt out of bed with lightning speed, one hand clamped firmly over your mouth as you raced to the bathroom. You despised it and fought to contain it, but whatever it was, it refused to subside on its own.

Unable to hold it back any longer, you hunched over the toilet, your body convulsing as you violently ejected the remnants of your dinner. The ordeal continued relentlessly until you felt completely hollow, as if you'd purged every last morsel from your system—intestines and all.

When it was finally over, you relished the relief, washing your mouth and face to rid yourself of the sticky residue of sweat on your skin and the acrid taste persisting on your tongue. Your abdominal muscles contracted painfully, as if you'd just completed an intense set of sit-ups at the gym.

Good lord. You felt like a wrung-out dishrag.

Whether you had eaten something bad or were experiencing delayed symptoms of travel burnout, you desperately wished for this nausea to leave you alone. It had ebbed and flowed throughout the night, barely relenting even as you left the house. 

It was unusual, you rarely had digestive issues. Considering the whirlwind of your recent trip, flying to Cape Kennedy, physically moving in and out of the Dreaming, and then back onto the plane home again, it probably made sense that your body was finally feeling the strain. 

Fortunately, you made it through your workday without a repeat of your previous night's disaster, successfully keeping your lunch where it belonged. You convinced yourself it was just a random occurrence, a fleeting ailment that would pass as your body naturally recovered.

You pored over your sketches and scoured your Pinterest boards for further inspiration. With an array of gemstone pieces and chains spread across the table, you let your creativity flow, crafting designs that were both unique and original. Ella desired something innovative, jewelry that stood out from the current market offerings, and you were determined to exceed her expectations.

The process was unexpectedly enjoyable and fulfilling, surpassing your initial skepticism. Your research and material acquisitions produced impressive results, with several of your creations already sent to the workshop for soldering and welding. Weariness was a constant companion, testing your resilience and mental focus over the following days. Nevertheless, a few stifled yawns and tired eyes paled in comparison to the joy of seeing your efforts appreciated.

Just as you were ready to forget about your mysterious illness, the nausea suddenly resurfaced one day as you walked out of the shower. It lasted only a few minutes before subsiding, allowing you to sleep without feeling sick or making another dash to the toilet. 

Over a week had elapsed since your return, and with your appetite slightly diminished, you began to question whether your random symptoms were truly related to the trip and the tumultuous circumstances you had encountered in Florida. Ella and your colleagues appeared unaffected after your recent restaurant outing, yet you couldn't shake the suspicion that something on your plate might have caused potential food poisoning. 

On the other hand, you wondered if this physical disorder was merely a result of exhaustion. Your father had noticed your pallor and evident fatigue, expressing concern about how unsteady you seemed on your feet. With the new jewelry project underway you'd been bustling about, visiting stores and different studios to source new supplies. You hadn't exactly been cautious, willingly pushing yourself far beyond your limits.

During your walk home from a fruitful excursion, you had to stop multiple times due to unexpected breathlessness and lightheadedness. These strange manifestations left you feeling disconcerted, as your body behaved in ways you didn't recognize.

Ultimately, you dismissed your condition as a mere stomach bug or something equally benign. You saw no reason to fret over what you believed would be a short-lived malady.

Yet, was it truly so insignificant…?

You hadn't seen Hob Gadling since before your trip abroad, and your work subsequently left little room for socializing. In spite of his persistent invitations for drinks, you regrettably had to decline repeatedly. Hob, true to his nature, remained incredibly patient and understanding, encouraging your professional growth while reminding you to prioritize self-care.

Finally meeting him felt like reuniting after an eternity apart. His bright smile was better than any medicine, his company one of the most precious things in the world. To be honest, you felt so sleepy and generally under the weather that you were tempted to reschedule. However, you knew that finding a better opportunity in the near future was unlikely.

"Are you sure you just want tea? You're not ordering anything else? It's my treat, you know."

"I know," you replied. "It's just that I've been feeling a bit off lately."

"Oh, is that so? Sounds like you might be burning the candle at both ends again."

"My job keeps me busy, but it's nowhere near as hectic as when I worked in Wych Cross. I can sit for hours without being called away."

Hob bit into a piece of tart, humming in response as he chewed. 

"How are things going at school?" you inquired.

"Some students can be quite a handful,” he said after swallowing. “But you know how it is."

"You've become a role model for so many young people. That's something to be proud of," you observed.

"Well, when you've lived as long as I have, you inevitably accumulate quite a trove of useful experiences."

"It's not just your extensive knowledge that makes you awesome, Hob. You're intelligent, kind, and always attentive to those who need support."

"If you'd known me back in 1600, you might think differently."

"But I know you now, and I truly appreciate the man sitting in front of me."

His grin widened as he reached for your wrist, giving it a gentle squeeze. "Or maybe, I have the best influence right here."

"Oh, come on. You were already like this when we first met."

Immersed in the joyful atmosphere, you savored the shared laughter and companionship of a treasured friend. While you loved your creative job, having a day free from work finally gave you the chance to unwind and momentarily set aside thoughts of impending deadlines.

The afternoon progressed perfectly until an unexpected disruption occurred. As the waitress approached the adjacent table, a potent coffee aroma wafted through the room. The scent went straight to your head, compelling you to abandon the remaining of your tea as a sudden wave of sickness engulfed you all over again, reminiscent of a rising tide.

"Are you all right, Y/N?" Hob asked, his eyebrows knitting together.

"Yes, it's just... isn't this smell a little too strong?"

“What smell?”

“The coffee.”

Hob furrowed his brow in genuine confusion. He sniffed the air, taking a moment to analyze it. "I don't know," he said. "It smells like normal coffee to me. I don't find it particularly overpoweri—"

You abruptly sprang from your chair, weaving through customers and tables to reach the mercifully vacant bathroom. Stunned, Hob followed in your wake, gently rapping on the door and calling your name with apprehension. Curious onlookers paused their conversations to observe the scene, while the waitress craned her neck inquisitively.

You heard him, but couldn't respond. Doubled over and coughing, you felt your fluids rushing out uncontrollably. The malaise hit you with full force, dropping you to your knees as your body eliminated its contents a second time, leaving your throat raw and burning. 

"Y/N, please say something. What's happening?"

Only when you were certain you had nothing left to expel did you open the door. A searing pain shot through your forehead, and the entire path from your trachea to your stomach felt inflamed, as if ready to burst from the inside out.

"I'm sorry about that," you mumbled, your voice hoarse. "I'm fine."

"That didn't seem like 'fine' to me. Would you like me to drive you home? I think some rest might do you good, Shortcake."

Completely drained, quite literally, you nodded silently and returned to your table. You gathered your belongings, leaving behind your dinks, unfinished and forgotten. Each step felt leaden and sluggish as you made your way to Hob's car, shrouded in a thick, uncomfortable silence. With a heavy sigh, you leaned back against the seat, shutting your eyes and clutching your bag's strap tightly.

"I'm so sorry," you apologized dejectedly. "I've ruined our outing."

"I'd rather see you feeling well than keep you out when you're sick to the bone. Why didn’t you tell me? We could have postponed it to another day."

You pouted. "I really wanted to see you today, though."

"And I want you to take care of yourself. I can't die, remember? I've got all the time in the world."

"I just don't get it,” you protested, your voice wavering. “I can feel fine for a few days in a row, and then suddenly I'm puking my guts."

"How long have you been experiencing these symptoms?"

"I've been feeling a bit strange since I landed last week, but nothing major, really. Just the occasional headache, fatigue, that sort of thing."

The car halted at a red light, its engine rumbling in the quiet street.

"You mentioned the coffee smell was particularly strong."

"Yes, I don't know why. I could not stand it."

“Mh.”

Noticing his unusual quietness and the contemplative look on his face as he mulled over your words, you narrowed your eyes. "Why?"

"Ah, it's nothing, Shortcake. I've heard there's some sort of stomach bug going around. You might have caught that."

The car resumed its journey, winding through the thoroughfares of London as you gazed out the window, your eyelids feeling impossibly leaden. “Yeah. Could be.”

Morpheus strolled through the library, his presence as ubiquitous as the tomes on the shelves and tables, as if they were fragments of his very essence. He returned the volumes borrowed from Lucienne: various dream records he'd examined to evaluate his realm's current state and its power's impact on the Waking World following the Vortex incident. 

He scanned the spines of the books before him, striding along the rows of shelves with his customary regal bearing. A faint smile played on his lips, a testament to his renewed control, now bolstered by your unwavering support and endless affection.

His fingers glided along the leather bindings, caressing centuries—if not millennia—of transcribed stories. From across the library, Lucienne and Matthew's distant voices wafted through the atmosphere, lively and tranquil, signaling the full restoration of every fracture caused by the previous disturbances.

Morpheus experienced an unprecedented, profound sense of bliss and inner peace. After innumerable centuries of existence, he finally grasped the true meaning of being cherished, and his understanding of love had undergone a drastic metamorphosis. A human had taught him more in a brief span than eternity ever could, smoothing the sharpest edges of his being. You had believed in him when everyone else saw him as a monster, perceiving his past misdeeds as steps in his growth.

Little did he know that his newfound self-assurance was about to shatter in the face of an imminent revelation.

As Morpheus turned to depart for the throne room, a whisper from behind arrested his attention. A large, weathered tome jutted out from the long row of books, awaiting the Lord of Dreams to hold it. The Endless paused, pivoting slowly, and gazed at the book with surprise as he approached. 

Its cover was pitch black, adorned with faintly scratched embroideries and devoid of any visible title. As Morpheus lifted it from the shelf, he was struck by its physical lightness, yet felt a spiritual weightiness emanating from it. Gingerly, he opened the volume, unsure of its contents. The title was emblazoned in large, inky letters on the first page:

Morpheus felt his blood run cold, his fingers turning even icier. He had heard of that name before, old tales circulating from one shaman to another, handed down to priests and storytellers until they remained nothing but a legend with no foundation. It was described as a book full of dire predictions, destiny itself written upon its pages, bringing forth catastrophic prophecies that were never proven.

Not once in his eternal lifetime had Morpheus encountered this book in the castle's library, or in any library, for that matter. He had long dismissed it as nothing more than a fanciful myth. 

Its sudden appearance in the Dreaming could only mean one of two things: either it was a product of someone's vivid imagination, or it heralded an impending catastrophe. Morpheus dreaded the latter possibility, considering all that he and the Dreaming had endured over the past 106 years.

The second page lay blank, its rough, ancient parchment unyielding beneath his ethereal touch. He flipped it over, and the third one featured a Celtic-inspired illustration in black and gold ink, depicting a tarot-like tableau of a full moon reflecting on still waters, with a solitary female figure wading into the depths. In the center, a short paragraph had been inscribed.

Morpheus's entire form tensed as he continued leafing through the book, only to discover another image, a counterpart to the previous one. Instead of the moon, the sun now dominated the landscape. The same woman stood with her back turned, clad in a long gown, still traversing the vast ocean ahead. In the middle, another caption stood out.

Morpheus staggered, clutching the shelf before him for support. These images weren't unfamiliar; everything depicted on those pages represented only one thing—what he treasured most in the entire universe: you.

He pressed on, both terrified and desperate to uncover more. With each turn of the page, he saw more of you, and even himself, intricately woven into the written lines and painted details. The book revealed something he had never wished to know, yet somehow, deep in the core of his love for you, he had already foreseen it.

A once-distant fear, something he fervently hoped would never recur as it had in the past, now a tangible possibility.

As understanding dawned, Morpheus sank to the floor, his legs buckling beneath him. His chest tightened agonizingly, as if a hidden power sought to tear his heart from his body and destroy it. He was in agony, metaphorically shattered into countless fragments, as the mental image of you splintered like a fractured mirror, your radiant smile morphing into the deepest frown.

Sequestering himself in that spot, he read the enigmatic messages obsessively, only to conclude they portrayed the most unfavorable fate imaginable. One he was determined to protect you from, no matter the cost, even if it meant sacrificing everything you represented for him.

And for the Dreaming.

Mere moments ago, he was elated at the thought of having you by his side, bringing out the best in himself, shaped by your unconditional love for all that he was.

The next, his eyes closed, a solitary tear tracing a silent path down his pale skin at the devastating prospect of what he had to do for your sake.

I'm sharing this for reference, so you have a clear image to associate with it; the bangle Morpheus placed in the memory box is essentially like this one. I purchased it online recently, and it reminded me of The Sandman and my fanfiction, so I've decided to include it. ✨

What did Morpheus find in the library just now??? 😱 😶 🙊 😭

Also, if you're wondering what I suspect you're wondering, the answer is… it could be either yes or no. 😏

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

[traineecryptid]

Merch: Xilaimian and Yucun House 3D Puzzle

In January of 2024, MOEGOODS announced a collab with DMBJ to produce a 3D puzzle of Xilaimian and the adjacent house that Wu Xie built. (Note: MOEGOODS frequently collabs with DMBJ to make merch!) So, when I came across this a few days ago, I figured that it'll be good reference for fanworks. Under the cut, you'll find photos taken from the official MOEGOODS weibo of the model from various angles as well as a translation of the design notes.

Photos of the 3D Puzzle (source)

Design Notes (source)

Translation Notes

[Hidden Dragon] is part of the proverb 卧虎藏龙 lit, lying tiger and hidden dragon, that refers to outstanding figures who have hidden their identities and keeping it on the downlow. 

[I’m joyful when sleep comes] is an expanded reading on the phrase—and also restaurant name—Xilaimian. 喜(xi) means joy, the feeling of liking something. 来 (lai) means come, arrive. 眠 (mian) means sleep, slumber.

[Wood-make] is a term I made up ‘cause I couldn’t find a word that means “made from wood fibers, might be MDF, but there’s a non-zero chance that it’s actual planks”. It’s probably MDF though.

And here's Google Drive folder with all the above resources (in case tumblr messes with the resolution of the photos)

[toonnationfemoct]

Something say for The DragonBall Franchise that has Been on My Mind for a While is how Fa ns talk so Much on DragonBallZ, How Fantastic/Innovating from How Action Packed it is with Fight Scenes that are Spectical to the Eyes.

But Yet Not Many Would Take Mention on How It’s Early Roots Were Like; and Would tend to Forget How it all Actually Started.

This Start of Year I Got the Chance to Look At The Original Dragon Ball(the Anime from 1984) and I Must Say I Might Actually Like this Version that it’s Sequels. It’s Simple Story of a Boy Going Off on an Journey to find DragonBalls to Learning the Way of Becoming a Martial arts Fighter, the Soft and Fun Design of the Characters with a Unique Detail for the Mechanics, the Fun and Colorful Cast of Characters a few that been Forgotten in the Franchise(LUNCH) and Overall Silly and Fun Adventures it Brought to the Table.

It Saddens me how it’s Ignored from it Predecessor, I Understand and Get How DBZ Became something more Outstanding for New Viewers plus it’s intensity and Thrill Store lines Giving Us the Iconic Sayains and Their Power Ups. But Something About the Original Before the Sayains give a Whole New Vibe that Brings something Special in it own Unique Way. Honestly Miss this Kind of DB History as Many have as I said Forgot this Version making Old School Characters Become Irrelevant unless they are Connected to Sayains; and Again these Guys had Greater Impact when the Series just Started Out. Granted there have been Attempts of Emulating the Original in the Franchise, DB DAIMA Being an Example but Still aside from Bulma the Others Get Left Behind while the Big Names Go Off on the Journey; not saying that it’s Bad and I Plan to Check it Out as it Toriyama Final Work on the Series but My Points Still Stands.

At the End of the Day Something I Like Fans Checking Out and See What it Like in its Early Roots, What Characters Like Krillen Yamcha Tien and Roshi Ment for the Series and it Simple Action that gives Nod to Marital Art Movies and Actors of the Time. Seriously if ur a DB Fan that Hasn’t Yet Seen This Version I HIGHLY RECOMMEND IT

[hubristicassholefight]

Preliminary Round: Revue Starlight

Propaganda below cut

Hikaru

Battle girlfriends with Karen Aijo. Competes in sword fights to decide who is the “top star.” Also sings during these sword fights. Commonly uses swords as props in plays.

Karen

There are so many other Revue Starlight characters I could submit because so many of them have swords (one even has two!) but Karen is the main character and has a sword so I think she deserves this personally. Her sword is, depending on your translation, called either Possibility of Puberty (which I find funnier) or Possibility of Youth (which I prefer but it's also so much less silly)

Nana

She has a double Katana and I think out of all the revue starlight girlies she’s the coolest. I’m sure someone smarter can talk about the symbolism of her swords. Regardless of that tho, she’s so strong even if she doesn’t appear as a strong contender, she won a sword fight competition for 60 times in a row resulting her creating a time loop. If that isn’t cool enough she has an entire fight with epic music of her taking on her entire class and winning. Like a full 1vs 8 fight and she won and looked so cool doing it; She’s literally the messiest theatre lesbian I’ve ever seen and it shows in her sword fights. Like no one sane would win a sword competition in an underground stage over and over again every year only to use the “wish” to turn back time and repeat it again and again.

Well, she has two swords. BUT this is important cause in revstar, blade length signifies someone's brilliance as an actress. So this immediately means that Nana is overpowered compared to literally everyone else.(oh and she used the swords/brilliance to trap everyone in a time loop due to her childhood loneliness but I don't know how important this is to this poll)

Maya

maya wields a rapier with a white gem, as coordinated to her image colour, for a pommel, named odette the mavericks. the sword is eponymous to its name and significant as to her major motifs—the rapier is forged with a long, slender blade, as well as a golden grip assembled with the shape of a swan’s wings. whilst there are a number of swordswomen within revue starlight, maya undoubtedly takes position zero when it comes to the effortlessness and swiftness of swordsmanship within the revues—effectively winning against a wide majority of her opponents and cutting them down effortlessly, all whilst putting on the greatest performance. https://youtu.be/SX8-exfskeo https://youtu.be/c3rrQpwKwPI (yes, she loses in this one, but her PERFORMANCE is outstanding). a few notable moments of maya’s swordswomanship throughout the revues are, The LIVE #1, in which, during a revue against saijou claudine, she uses mavericks to stab her in the shoulder and cut down the button of her pelisse jacket, achieving position zero and winning said revue. https://ibb.co/kSWjvFX Starry Diamond, in which, during a revue teamed with daiba nana, she effectively cut down her opponents and decided to further cut down nana as to further achieve position zero on her own—cutting into both of nana’s arms before soon removing the button from her pelisse jacket, as well. https://streamable.com/fx1edd The LIVE #3, in which she is set against three separate opponents, each with varying weapons—longsword, axe, bow and arrow—and continued to best all three of them simultaneously. https://streamable.com/gp430d https://streamable.com/n8tucw https://streamable.com/c7roo1 https://streamable.com/syno6z . . . and, again, everything about THIS revue. https://youtu.be/c3rrQpwKwPI

Claudine

A simple design, the handle a gold. Someone has stated that it looks like a Lego sword if you shrunk it and I think that's funny. Saijo Claudine throws her sword in one episode to help another character get higher and I think that's cool; She's french and is aligned with silver and her rival is always first place but Claudine is also really good and her sword deserves more attention 🤙🤙

[inventors-fair]

Outstanding Charges: Crime Winners ~

Our winners this week are @corporalotherbear, @curiooftheheart and @izzet-always-r-versus-u!

@corporalotherbear — Raucous Celebrators

For a common design, this is a pretty good corner case, and once more I'm pleased with the kind of designs that Battlebond 2HG play has to offer. The ability to confer with a teammate is one of the best advantages that 2HG has over other formats, and even then, in Commander or similar formats the ability to cast two spells and get a free Shatter isn't anything to shake a stick at. Situational, yes, but necessary—in a way that probably comes up more often than not in the formats where it'd be played.

I think this is one of those cards as well where the name, flavor text, and abilities give rise to an idea of the art and mood without having to explicitly spell it out. I can quite easily see the brightly painted faces and the hooting-slash-hollering that would be taking place here. We don't need to see the sighing Sylvia or even the aftermath of the destruction; the implication of an arena already in the process of being decimated is enough. It gives a little bit of humanity to the world, in the sense of connections between our Earth's sports fans and the crowd here rushing the stands. I really love how you've got that subtle story there that's funny, flavorful, and quite polished overall. You know, it just struck me: this card can show either the joy of a winning team, OR the anger of a losing team. Great work.

@curiooftheheart — Jaywalk

I was tempted to just put "10/10 no notes" and have that be the end of the commentary. I've never laughed so hard at a submission, and I really have nothing to add that this card doesn't already demonstrate. Perfect name, perfect vibe, perfect modes, perfect flavor text. I think when I shared this in with the other judges, Florence mentioned that this pedestrian was having a really bad day if they're getting hit with every vehicle at the same time.

Maybe there's something to say about limited? I dunno, it's a removal spell in the right shell and a perfectly adequate combat trick otherwise. Perhaps there's something to be said about the "crime" aspect being, like, situational, but that's not eve what this contest was about. You demonstrated perfectly the kind of fine balance between dark humor and utility. I'll be thinking about this submission and sharing it around for quite some time.

@izzet-always-r-versus-u — Graverobbing

And today I learned about the word "fossor!" I love learning new words, and this card's pretty standard for what we're looking for in a way that elevated it with the other kinds of grave-themed submissions; there were a few this week, which I should've expected, honestly. What I like about this card in particular is the versatility of it and the simplicity that comes from the choices. You gotta have creature cards in graveyards, but maybe you only need one. Double Raise Dead ain't nothing to shake a stick at, but you need the double black pips, so there you go—and blockers slash bodies is important as well.

This one is on the higher end of complexity, but in a world where multi-paragraph commons exist (looking at you, Sticky Fingers), this one isn't the hardest to grok, in my opinion. You gotta pick creatures, yours go back to hand and your opponents' make Zombies. Ain't so bad, right? It could be an uncommon, but that would be situational with the set's gist. Flavor text here is fun, too—it's worded well and reads great. Actually, I love how the Imperial aspect speaks to the nature of the world where the political positions have their backstabbingly-oriented nature no matter where you are. That's how you speak to a greater world without massive amounts of exposition. Phenomenal job overall.

Runners coming up! @abelzumi

[oswlld]

oswlld's monthly wrap up: march

note: i am trying something a bit different this year, so bear with me as i figure out how i want to format this. i wanted to spend more time sharing what i consume, beyond what i rb, and put my thoughts in one place. these posts are okay to rb

--

When We Cease to Understand the World, Benjamín Labatut [started 02/24, finished 03/14] What an outstanding example of blurring the lines between fiction and reality. I am content in never knowing what’s real and imaginary in the lives of these people. May we never forget that for every new idea challenged, there is a real person with real emotions and motivations behind it. 4.25⭐️ in storygraph. — No Stopping Us Now: A History of Older Women in America, Gail Collins [started 03/03, finished 03/30] This book makes some strong points, but comes off weak in its execution. By having it be told decade by decade, it becomes hard to follow along when so many names and events are being tossed around. Without a firm thread tying all the themes together, the achievements ended up feeling lackluster when it should leave you feeling a sense of pride and hopefulness. 3.25⭐️ in storygraph (I rounded up, but it feels more like a 3.15)

23.5 Degrees, GMMTV [started: 03/08, ongoing] What a breath of fresh air!! With my busy schedule, I managed to catch the first two eps and I’ve loved every minute of it. It doesn’t take itself too seriously, while still keeping a tight grip on its sense of identity. The series soaks up every aspect of its space theme like a sponge. Content specifically made for me, tysm! As much as I have tried refraining from consuming more high school settings, I couldn’t help but be enamored by what I have seen so far. I have paused this series for now, but hopefully I’ll be caught up before the end of April. I should be able to watch it live on Fridays in May. Until then, I will miss them dearly! — Always a Witch, Netflix [started 03/28, in progress] At this time, I have only seen episodes 1-5. So far, it’s a very straight-forward series. I am restraining myself from calling it predictable, because there are one or two things that really turns some tropes/themes on its head. But all-in-all, I am still waiting for this show to grab me. For a show that checks all the boxes that really makes a core jessi show, a series with time travel, magical realism, and found family, it has yet to completely sweep me away. Time really got away from me this month, but I will finish this series sometime in the next two weeks. We shall see if the latter half gets better.

Taylor Swift: The Eras Tour (Taylor’s Version) [watched 03/15 thru 03/18] I have seen this live and did see the original film in theaters last year, so this experience was more of a rewatch. This time around, my parents wanted to watch some of it with me so we made a whole evening of it on 3/15 so that was really neat. I will be traveling a lot in April and will be taking an audio copy of this to keep me entertained. — Oscar Nomination Season [started 02/17, ended 03/24] All of my initial reactions of what I managed to cover this Oscar season is in this post. Some of the strongest categories I have had the pleasure of covering this year were the Best Documentary (feature), Best Production Design, Best Live Action Short, Best Documentary (short), and Best Animated Film. I have several more films to tackle later this year, but my overall impression this Oscar season was just alright. One or two films have hit an extremely high note for me, but no worst of the worst.

BEYONCÉ, Beyoncé [relistening] During the pandemic, I really got into waching YT reaction channels reacting to full albums. One of my favorites is HTHaze and he is only beginning his listening journey through Beyoncé’s discography (yes, for the first time!) His reaction to Beyoncé’s self-titled made me want to relisten to it in full for the first time in years. I tend to only revisit a few songs through the years, but I do love going back to albums after time has past to recontextualize everything all over again. I’ve had my longtime faves from my 20’s but in my mid-30’s, the songs that hit harder now are: Pretty Hurts, Haunted, and Jealous. — Bewitched, Laufey [first time listening] The same YT channel got me to listen to this album. I am guilty in having my first listen be through his video first before diving into her album properly. With that said, the brain rot went FULL ROT. I love LOVE her compositions. Having learned from her Tiny Desk that getting a grand piano influenced the way she wrote her songs makes the whole conception so much grander. Her voice is soooo, it’s SOOOOO !!!!!!! I read a comment somewhere that her dream is to rejuvenate jazz the same way Taylor Swift did with country for a younger generation and that really spoke to me. I truly believe she is heading in the right direction in achieving that. My favorite run of songs goes from: Haunted, Must Be Love, While You Were Sleeping, Lovesick, California and Me, Nocturne (Interlude), and Promise. Those seven songs in that succession is so GOOD, ahH! — Once the Musical [relistening] Every spring, I fall into a Once spiral and it just gets deeper and deeper. This time though, I only tackled the core faves on YT rather than committing to the full audio (w/ Arthur Darvill and Joanna Christie). Although Arthur Darvill’s Leave will forever solidify his Guy as my Guy, Declan Bennett is The Guy of Guys for me. My mandatory relistening experience always goes: Arthur’s Leave, Arthur’s Say It To Me Now, Declan’s Say It To Me Now, Declan’s When Your Mind’s Made Up, Zrinka's If You Want Me, Once’s Spotify Jam Session. And it would all be on a loop lol. — Cowboy Carter, Beyoncé [first time listening] This is still fresh in my mind, having only listened to it in its entirety once through. My first impression is that it’s one of her most cohesive albums to date. Having had the first taste of what she would eventually achieve all the way back with Lemonade and The Gift, Cowboy Carter feels like a natural progression in her discography. I don’t have a top songs list to provide at this time, as I would need more time with the album. Fav songs come with time. Although, I did listen to 16 CARRIAGES when it was released several weeks ago and I knew then it would be a spectacular album. What a phenomenal single to lead a phenomenal homecoming.

Where’d You Go Bernadette, written by Maria Semple and narrated by Kathleen Wilhoite [started 03/22, finished 03/29] I… I didn’t like this. And that’s alright. Even if I didn’t like the premise or the characters, I did enjoy the format of the narrative and the narrator (especially her singing!!). But in the end, this was just not meant for me.

—

As it is still March when I am writing this, I wanted to endcap Women’s Month with a special shoutout to two women in my life that have been working with me to improve my overall well-being: Wendy (personal trainer) and Sofia (life coach). I am in a better headspace because of the work and trust they have in me to build a life I want. I cannot wait to see what I am capable of this time next year.

[vannahmontannah]

Who are you guys?

Eisley and Dennis have been together for 5 years and all 4 years in college. Dennis is a star football player in college, Clark Atlanta University, and he is this most popular in his school and in the state. He is number 25. Dennis is know for his loyalty, commitment, and chill personality. He is a team player, motivating and supportive. Eisley (girl with the hat) has had plenty of competition from girls coming at her man left and right, but they've all failed to even play with her like that. Dennis is actually a loyal man to his lady and respects her because he's supposed to. Something you mother fuckers don't know about. Eisley is taking up Fashion Design and Dennis is taking up Computer Science.

Ronnie (girl with the locs) is the best friend of Dennis and Eisley. She's actually the one who introduced her to Dennis. Dennis and Ronnie have been friends since kindergarten and they met Eisley in 11th grade. Ronnie is a very popular cheerleader at the school and she is also the team coach. Ronnie is taking up Astronomy.

Kai is a very close friend to Dennis and has been friends since third grade. He also has a best friend, Diamonté (Dia or Monté for short) and they have been friend since 8th grade. Kai is a popular basketball player, number 15, and he is known for his energetic personality and outstanding performances. Kai is taking up Music.

Diamonté is Kai's best friend and they are also friends with the others. She goes to Georgia State University College of Law to become a Lawyer. She will occasionally go to CAU and chill with her friends and support their games.

Miami is a junior at CAU and is taking up Biology. Miami is friends with the others as well and she is a transfer from Loyola University Chicago. She has been in ATL for a few months now and she is doing good in all of her classes.

Latimore (Jacob) is a student at Morehouse and he is taking up Drama and Dramatics/Theater Arts. He is also apart of a fraternity, Omega. He is enemies with Jawan who attends CAU. He has a girlfriend, Deyjah, and she's captain of her cheerleading team at Morehouse. She is taking up Business Administration and Management.

Jawan, who goes to CAU, he is also in a fraternity and he is a Kappa. He is taking Cybersecurity. He has been a well known friend since 8th grade as well, he's just the more laid back one who is barely in the scene. But when he shows out, he shows out!

Markus (Mario) is a much older man who is dating Ronnie. They have been together for three years. He does not attend college, but he is doing well on his own. He is a music artist and he has built a solid fan base. He's aware of all of Ronnie's friends, but he's always busy so they rarely hang out. The only one who really sees him is Ronnie.

Patricia is also a good friend of theirs. She has been around since Kindergarten too and pretty much got a chance to know who everyone was. She is a student at Spelman and she is taking up Health Sciences.

Lastly, the girl who has this weird obsession with Dennis is a girl named Charity. She's had a big crush on Dennis for years and is scared to talk to him. She's known about Dennis since she's first attended CAU. She is taking up Computer Science as well and Dennis and Charity have a class together.

[pompadorbz]

I RARELY see people tackle potential parents for Daiya and Mondo, so here they are!

I imagine Cassie met Hideo when she was in high school, but Hideo was a lot older than her. Regardless of that they hit it off fairly well, but things started to sour once Daiya was born. Hideo was a more distant father and refused to run his family's motor business beyond riding a motorcycle, so he refused to take any jobs while Cassie was left jumping from position to position. Despite that, I think Daiya still really looked up to Hideo as this cool mysterious figure. Whenever they'd talk it'd be about manly shit. And bikes. So it was all the more traumatizing when he fucked off a few months into Cassie's second pregnancy. Daiya was 7. I picked the name Hideo because its meanings both fit him, and are DEEPLY ironic (excellent, fine/outstanding, hero, manly, husband, and man). It was just too perfect.

Cassie's dad studied abroad in Canada for a while, and while he was there he met the woman who would be his wife. She didn't have much family left in Canada, so they moved back to Japan shortly after Cassie turned 3. I think their relationship was far more loving and they both gave Cassie their all, but they pressured her in her schoolwork and her relationships, and that began to dominate over their love for her. I think Hideo led them to disown her due to the path she went down after meeting him. She was starting to reach her boiling point with him, but after he left, she couldn’t take it anymore. It was the straw that broke the camel's back, and Cassie began to take it out onto Daiya shortly after Mondo was born in a combination of anger and stress. She was never violent with him and broke down crying more often than not, but she still heavily pressured Daiya into becoming a better man than Hideo was and getting frustrated whenever he or his interests were mentioned.

Daiya ran away when he was only around 12, and Mondo was 4. It was impulsive and remained incredibly complicated until he died. A lot of Hideo and Cassie's personality still stuck with Daiya despite everything, and some of their teachings were passed down to Mondo (Did I base most of Cassie and Hideo on that one line of dialogue in the Ch1 investigation? Yes). Mondo doesn't really know what either of them look like aside from fuzzy memories of Cassie, but I do think that they know who Mondo is all too well. Hideo mostly doesn't care, but I think that time spent alone made Cassie feel like she could've given them so much more. She wants to reconnect with Mondo, especially after Daiya's death, but she has no clue how to do that, so in the end she just never even tries.

Design wise I wanted to make it clear that Hideo is. Kinda a scumbag? I don't think Cassie ever finds this out, but he's absolutely cheated on her at least once. Very real chance that Daiya and Mondo have some siblings out there that they don't know about. I also wanted him to be a pretty big influence on Daiya's style of dress, hence the hair being similar to a pompadour.

Cassie was designed to have a lot of features that'd be considered charming. She's got the big ol' doe eyes with subtle heterochromia, she's got freckles, a cute little nose, a rounder facial shape, etc. and etc. Like if i designed how she looked in high school before she entered her deeply problematic relationship, she would have to look really sweet and cute.

I'm a big fan of the idea that the orange part of Mondo's hair is actually the natural part, and it grew back out after she dyed her hair to look more like Daiya's, so she started to use that part for the pompadour instead. She also got Hideo's eye colour and pupil shape, nearly his exact skin tone, his nose, and Cassie's slightly rounder face shape, albeit a bit taller.

Daiya got a very similar hair colour to Hideo, nearly his exact facial structure, a mixture of both Cassie and Hideo's skin tones, Cassie's freckles, her big ol doe eyes plus their hazel colour, and her nose.

[astralartefact]

Placeholder Name for Atarase's Media Diary

Extra Entry 00a - Final Fantasy 14 Endwalker 6.X Patch Series

Synopsis

The Gang Solves a Demon Crusade

The Gang Learns of the Messiest Divorce in the Multiverse

The Gang Ruins their Academic Reputation by Absolutely Botching the Only Interview Humanity Will Ever Have With Their Gods (Gone Wrong) (Gone Blasphemous)

The Gang Does Side Quests at the Other End of the Universe

i wrote this ages ago before dawntrail came out and forgot to post it but i still agree with what i wrote so have fun experiencing some hindsight <3

How much did I know before playing?

I'm playing this game since the end of Heavensward.

Did I like it more than I expected?

As seemingly one of 5 people with healthy expectations in this community I actually did.

Except for---

Since I liked it, here's what I hated about it

Eulogia. Fuck Eulogia. Way to ruin, like, everything.

Who wrote this. I just have some questions. I want to know if you ever once thought, like at all. For your own sake, dear writer responsible for this shlock, I hope YoshiP never reveals your name to the public for you already have a spiritual nemesis that will badmouth you to his absolutely non-sizeable internet audience.

Also, I guess searching for a Pictomancer glam in preparation for Dawntrail also has made me once again aware that the designs for magic armor in this game suck ass, you know I enjoy the subdued but still magical vibe of the art design but to be quite honest I thoroughly dislike most of the armor aesthetic. How are you guys, especially male characters, maining magic jobs with only like 3 glams that aren't long, ugly and/or feminine robes, I knew it was a meme but it's really that bad.

The worst part really is that there's several dozen good outfits where you can literally see the line where the top should have ended - only for them to still extend the cape all the way to the ground for no good reason making the entire piece look like shit. pls yoshi p just loosen the glam restrictions so you just have to have the class unlocked at that level to glam it onto every other class q_q that would take a minimal amount of effort and it would solve world hunger i swear it would q_q

What did this game make me think about?

The place of Redemption, Accountability and Forgiveness in our current age and its relation to our relationship to Religion.

And just so you're aware it's not the fucking God Exodus Story Line that made me think about any of that, no, that shitty story line has not thought a singular second about any of those points.

Specific Impressions that will stick with me

As much as I hate the story of Myths of the Realm the presentation slaps as always, the raids are gorgeous and Soken does what Soken do. (I'm value neutral on the Raid's difficulty or whatever the community decides to care about these days)

The Left Ending of Sil'dih with the tea table surrounded by flowers (i think it's the left one?) that place is so fckin pretty q_q and i love nanamooo

Outstanding Audio

Basically all of Myths of the Realm except for the Final Boss theme which I hate on principle because Fuck Eulogia

hurts bc dawn of a new era is was my favorite ff14 theme q_q

Troian Beauty in D Minor i don't think it's d minor

Favorite Character

KRIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIILE does she count she's barely in it

Nophica with a Gun (the Nophica that wasn't ruined by Myths of a Realm)

Paper Menphina

My Hrothgar Barbariccia OC I wrote to be my wol's shard of the void

And I did like Zero!

Favorite Arc/Story Line

I liked the Void Arc, I know People are big mad about it but I think it's fine! I only think it should have been optional, basically exactly like Stormblood's Four Lords, a Trial Series with a few Dungeons in between - then it wouldn't have had the burden of leading right into Dawntrail (a contrast so stark they couldn't even have tried to smoothen the transition) and people wouldn't have expected Zero to stay immediately relevant too.

Also some of the minor-ish quest lines were cute :)

Favorite Set Piece

I love Lymllaen's arena, it's kind of simple but so effective.

The final trash mobs in Thaleia :)))

Really cool Area with interesting mob design :)))))

A glimpse of what could have been :)))))))))) HOW IS THE FINAL TRASH MOB AREA PRETTIER THAN THE FINAL BOSS ROOM

Favorite Scene

Zero giving Golbez the chance to repent.

Best Performance (I played with JP voices)

AEGISU OBU HARUONE!!!!!!!!!

every single one of the gods was great, but not all of them, if you catch my drift (get it, fuck eulogia)

German Localization Notes

If you know me you know that I think the German FFXIV Localization is better than the English one and it still is and it will continue to be. I gladly pass on meme-y item descriptions if it means that I can expect the translation to not just write whatever it feels like at any given moment. (also, as I have expressed before I can't stand english olden speech writing, thank god the german tl doesn't do all that)

--- ENTERING THE PRETENTIOUS SECTION OF THIS ENTRY ---

What about this game gives me Hope for the future of gaming?

I have nothing really to say, I'm just so excited for Pictomancer you guys, every time I think about it I'm flushed with immense joy. I didn't think they would do it, but it's real. It's actually happening.

I guess what gives me Hope about that is that Yoshi P didn't get too lost in FF16's Fantasy Realism, because drab fantasy aesthetics is truly the worst outcome of lore culture.

What about this game makes me scared for the future of gaming?

You see, there is this thing that has happened since the common consciousness has deemed that Shadowbringers is indeed that good and it's that people kind of immediately turned around to say, that actually, FF14 - WITH THE EXCEPTION OF THE BAD BAD STORMBLOOD WHICH IS BAD!!!! - has always been good.

After all Heavensward had that one quest line we all liked, remember, and the one dude died and we all really cared about him, right right right???

And while you are allowed to picture me dismissively pointing at your copy of Heavensward while I'm saying this I don't actually have that big of a take over Heavensward, mainly because I'm not particularly interested in reexamining it since I'm still not over how wildly that writer fumbled FF16's entire narrative point for 'emotional storytelling' or whatever that ending was about, the only thing I will say is that People always bring up the death as this big meaningful thing that's so impactful and how dare you not care about it as if Heavensward hasn't had two other pretty essential characters die for absolutely no good reason apart from conveniently getting rid of a character that would be a hassle to keep up with or setting up character development for another.

Anyways, the problem I actually have was that middle bit, the text in bold where people feel this insistent need to point out that they do indeed know that Stormblood's story is "bad."

But we all know that. It's one of those opinions everyone already shares with each other, because it's pretty obvious. Literally everyone, even and especially the ones who still like it, know that the story leaves at least a little bit to be desired - because different from what certain people online try to make you believe most people are indeed critical of the things they like. A lot of people just don't feel like loudly critizising every little thing they have a problem with, especially when overall they're still enjoying themselves. Some people call it being fun at a party. And if you're constantly nagging, you're not fun at a party - it's not a safe space full of snowflakes, you're just a complainer and that's why nobody wants to talk to you.

It's not that insightful to see that Stormblood didn't quite do it. If you were alone with him in a room even Yoshi-P would admit that Stormblood 'wasn't optimal' or whatever he would say, he's not that stupid, he's just professional enough not to throw his writers under the bus just to bad mouth his own product. And yet there's this certain subset of people that really really needs you to know that the expansion where they cried because that one guy they shipped their oc with died is really really good and yet the other one that's split in half for no reason is really really bad - as if it's something that's needed to be said. As if it's Insightful Commentary we all needed to hear.

I will make this sound more dramatic than I think it really is, but I think the critical reception of Shadowbringers has emboldened the FFXIV community to take their personal (emotional) reaction to a piece of media as proof that a thing is good. I think some link between "I liked it" and "It is good" has been strengthened in some people's minds and some of those people have started to use that for bad by using it as a weapon upgrade in the usual endless complaining about things everyone agrees is bad.

Basically, This thing is Bad has become This thing is Bad, unlike the thing which is clearly Good because I liked it (and look, everyone agrees with me)

Except of course you can like bad things. The Game Awards nominated FF16 for Best Narrative.

And that just makes for repeated situations where people will say shit like "but it's so good because it's bittersweet" about Myths of the Realm - which, great, happy you had an emotional response to all of that - but that's also kind of the bare minimum you should achieve when you decide to kill off characters that are so important to the setting you choose a diety for your character before you choose a name. The Twelve Leaving being sad is Basic Empathy, to me that's not some kind of writing success.

Sadly whoever mangled this sad excuse for a storyline also decided to make sure the exodus of the Twelve somehow left less impact on the game world than fucking YoRHa:Dark Apocalypse and there you people keep complaining about it despite it being a cross-over storyline where something like that shouldn't be expected.

What I want to make clear by pointing this out is that the problem with that isn't that people like something that's bad actually - you can like Myths of the Realm, it's fine - and it's not even something more profound sounding like 'people become "too attached" to a piece of media to the point of being personally insulted when it's critizised.'

Because to that point I say a) of course people feel weird when a thing they like is being bad mouthed that's just a normal human reaction (you know, one of the things art is about, you generally create something to be reacted to) and I don't like how that continually crops up as a rebuttal to people becoming "defensive" over "something meaningless" (nice way to refer to art btw) as if growing attached to a piece of art is something to be ashamed of - and also b): people on the internet overstate the value and necessity of public critique. (not saying it's not important but some people seem to think only their critique alone is the sole way a creator can grow which... i regret to inform you that unsolicited advice is rarely as helpful as you would like it to be, even if it is "correct".)

I think the problem is that these 'criticisms' don't come out of a genuine "empathy" for the thing they like - unlike some people seem to have convinced themselves - because if that was the case maybe we would actually get not necessarily a productive discussion - none of us is working on this game after all (and honestly it's okay to stop pretending that somebody who does listens) - but it would be a more interesting one for sure. I can't tell you what to like (as much as I would love to), but I can encourage you to have more meaningful introspections into what you love than to blindly accept those tired talking points everyone is repeating at nauseam.

And with more meaningful I don't actually mean 'deep' it just means being honest to yourself and your feelings, even and especially if it is something completely mundane.

Because I think a lot of this is the opposite - this is people parroting common points about the thing that is popular to be part of the in-group with as little personal stake as possible - and by punching down on the out-group you can strengthen your place in the crowd, your social capital. It's bullying masquerading as 'valid criticisms', or maybe even Nerd Populism. if only we had an alliance raid series about that.

The Ramble Section where I get to actually talk about what I thought about

I would love nothing more than to 'valid criticism' all over Myths of the Realm - but that would take 15 pages of a Google Doc and I think down here is really not the place.

It's just sad to see the Twelve, Aglaia, Euphrosyne and 3/4ths of Thaleia be absolutely wasted for a shitty resolution that spits in the face not only of our beloved made-up history facts known as Lore but also the entire premise of ARR to Stormblood. But hey, at least it's bittersweet am i right

Anyways, let's Ramble about Ancient Greek Pronounciation.

I haven't had Ancient Greek in School (I could have, but Latin was already old and boring enough for me, thanks) so I had to scrape together how to pronounce Euphrosyne just so I can be annoying about it and as much as I want to say Oi-pro-sü-neh (I think English Speakers don't have the german ü sound, it's basically the same as in the french word rue) because it's much easier to pronounce, Ancient Greek makes a difference between Eu and Oi and I fail to understand how the Eu sounds no matter how many times I listen to it.

By which I mean, you can pretend it's You-froze-a-knee as much as you want, it's wrong and you sound foolish.

[film-classics]

Claudette Colbert - The Perfect Star

Claudette Colbert (born Émilie Chauchoin in in Saint-Mandé, France on September 13, 1903) was a French-American actress who became one of the few major actresses during the Golden Age of Hollywood who worked freelance, independent of the studio system. With her impeccable makeup, trademark bangs, and stunning legs, she became known as "The Perfect Star" during her heyday.

At three years old, Colbert emigrated to Manhattan in order for her parents to pursue more employment opportunities. She studied at Washington Irving High School, which was known for its strong arts program and made her stage debut at the historic Provincetown Playhouse. Intending to become a fashion designer, she attended the Art Students League of New York. While studying, she appeared on the Broadway stage in a small role in The Wild Westcotts (1923).

After appearing in plays in Chicago, Washington D.C., Boston, and Connecticut and the London's West End, producer Leland Hayward casted her in her first film role in 1927. The following year, she signed with Paramount Pictures, where she made films in both French and English.

Colbert's career was boosted when she played the supporting role as a femme fatale in Cecil B. DeMille's historical epic The Sign of the Cross (1932). In 1933, Colbert renegotiated her contract to allow her to appear in films for other studios. This resulted in her most memorable movie, the screwball comedy Columbia Pictures' It Happened One Night (1934), which won her Academy Award for Best Actress.

In 1936, Colbert signed a new contract with Paramount, making her one of Hollywood's highest-paid actress. Colbert spent the rest of the 1930s alternating between romantic comedies and dramas. Still, she found time to volunteer with the Red Cross and participate in the Hollywood Victory Caravan during WWII.

In 1940, Colbert was offered a new contract with Paramount; she declined and continued to work as a freelance artist, securing roles in several prestigious films and television broadcasts in her later years, even winning a Golden Globe for Best Supporting Actress in a Series in 1988. Colbert also intermittently appeared in Broadway productions, most notable in The Marriage-Go-Round, for which she was nominated for a Best Actress Tony Award.

After retiring from acting in 1987, Colbert divided her time between her Manhattan apartment and her 18th century beachfront home in Speightstown, Barbados, nicknamed Bellerive, where she passed away at 92 years of age after suffering from a series of strokes during the last three years of her life.

Legacy:

Won the Academy Award for Best Actress for It Happened One Night (1934) and nominated two more times: Private Worlds (1935) and Since You Went Away (1944)

Is the only actress to date to star in three films nominated for Best Motion Picture in the same year: It Happened One Night (1934), Cleopatra (1934), and Imitation of Life (1934)

Won the Photoplay Awards - Best Performances of the Month in 1933 and 1943

Won the 1951 Golden Laurel for Top Female Dramatic Performance for Three Came Home (1950)

Nominated for the Tony Award Best Actress for The Marriage-Go-Round in 1959

Listed by the Motion Picture Herald as one of America’s top-10 box office draws in 1935, 1936, and 1947

Was Hollywood's highest-paid actress in 1936 and 1938

Named the 14th top money-making woman in the US in 1937 and the 6th in 1938

Won the Sarah Siddons Award in 1982 for The Kingfisher

Received the Film Society of Lincoln Center Lifetime Achievement Award in 1984

Won the Drama Desk Special Award in 1985 for Aren't We All

Received of the Ellis Island Medal of Honor by the Statue of Liberty-Ellis Island Foundation in 1986

Won the Golden Globe Award for Best Supporting Actress in a Series and was nominated for an Emmy Award for Outstanding Supporting Actress for The Two Mrs. Grenvilles (1987)

Was the recipient of the 1989 Kennedy Center Honors Lifetime Achievement Award

Presented with the Donostia Award at the 1990 San Sebastián International Film Festival

Named the 12th-greatest female star of classic Hollywood cinema in 1999 by the American Film Institute

Inducted in the Online Film & Television Association Hall of Fame in 2010

Honored as Turner Classic Movies Star of the Month for June 2021

Hosted a number VIPs at her sprawling oceanfront Barbados vacation home, including President Ronald Regan and First Lady Nancy Regan, Frank Sinatra, Mia Farrow, Princess Margaret, W. Averell and Pamela Harriman, John and Drue Heinz, Bill and Babe Paley, and Slim Keith

Bequeathed $100,000 in trust to UCLA Medical Center

Has a star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame at 6812 Hollywood Boulevard for motion picture

[rainbowmoonstonestories]

Chapters: 6/? Fandom: The Sandman (Netflix 2022, minor content from the Comics) Rating: Explicit Relationships Dream of the Endless/Morpheus x F!Reader Characters: Dream of the Endless/Morpheus, Lucienne, Matthew the Raven, Mervyn Pumpkinhead, Hob Gadling, Death, Rose Walker, The Corinthian, other minor Sandman characters, Original Characters. Warnings: 18+ content (minors DNI), explicit sexual content, POV switching, very long chapters to read. Summary: You always dreamed of becoming a successful Fashion Designer, sharing your creations with the world and making your father proud. But with him being very ill and so many costs solely weighting on your shoulders, things didn’t go as planned and you had to take a different path instead. An interesting offer led you to the elder Alex Burgess and you were hired as a new housemaid for a very good pay. However, your kindness and outstanding empathy convinced the man to give you an additional task for a doubled compensation; gaining the trust of Dream Of the Endless, held captive into the basement for over a century. Despite the shock of finding such an ethereal entity stripped of all his clothes and contained into a confined space, you had to accept for the sake of your father. But the more you got to speak to the mysterious anthropomorphic personification who didn't utter a single word, the more you were lost into his eyes that, conversely, seemed to contain the entire universe. A deep connection formed between the two of you, separated only by a thick layer of glass.

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

Credits: The moon dividers were made by firefly-graphics

Warning: This chapter includes detailed smut. Please don't read if you happen to be underage, or simply find this type of content uncomfortable.

Chapter 6

Three months later, you could finally learn his name. A name you already knew.

“Hello.”

For a moment, you thought you were experiencing a false awakening, dreaming about something that wasn't really there. Either that, or you were suspended between the dream world and reality, facing a common case of hypnagogia.

You had been struggling with sleep your entire life, which led you to read a lot of books and articles about dreams and sleep phenomena. Given your current emotional state, you couldn't rule out any of those possibilities.

The man's outline was clear and you could see the contours of his face, but his features were hidden by the darkness. In an instant, you turned on the lamp on your bedside table and the room was illuminated with a soft yellow tone. When you looked up again, Dream was still there, meeting your gaze and barely reacting. As you moved the sheets out of the way and touched the floor with your feet, the fabric of your nightgown fell gently around your thighs.

You took a tentative step forward and asked, "Am I dreaming?" You were still unsure if he was physically there, or just a product of your vivid imagination.

Dream's answer came right away. "No, you are not.”

His voice was music to your ears. It was deep, warm, sensual and alluring.

You moved coser. “Are you real…?”

Once again, the Endless replied, "I am.”

Just like in your dream, you stopped a few inches away from his face. You were so mesmerized that you couldn't even blink, as if you were afraid he would disappear the moment you did.

But then, Dream's gaze shifted down to your upper arms. As he inspected your fading scars, he brought his hand up and close to your skin, brushing the tips of his fingers lightly against them.

You had to contain the shivers that ran along your spine the moment you felt the contact. Dream was staring at your marks in concern and you could see the tension forming in his neck again.

As if you wanted to ensure he was actually there, you raised your own shaking hand to his chest, the fabric of his coat was soft against your palm. Dream's fingers slid down to your waist, curling around the silky material of your nightgown, so intimately and yet so timidly.

You met his eyes with a mixture of tenderness and desire. You felt your heart skip a beat and your cheeks flush with warmth. You knew what was happening between you and Dream was absolutely real, taking place in the present moment. No fantasy, no illusion, just you and the man you yearned for.

Feeling Dream's touch on you made you euphoric. You had agonized over it for a very long time, always being blocked by a thick layer of glass that was no longer there. Now you were finally able to experience him in the flesh, to feel his breath on your face, to bask in the intensity of his gaze.

You looked at Dream fondly, smiling in delight and admiring his beauty up close. His eyes were a deep shade of blue, like the ocean on a clear day, and they seemed to hold a universe of secrets and wonders. His hair was still unruly, but his front bangs had been combed and moved more to the left side. A little strand was falling over his eyebrow, giving you the growing need of gently pushing it out of the way.

Dream didn't stop you, keeping his eyes on you as you lightly took the strand between your thumb and forefinger, moving it aside. And then, you traced your fingertips over his cheek and chin, enjoying the smoothness of his tepid skin.

It was as if you were discovering him for the first time, even though you had known him for just a short while. You realized how much there was to him, how much he had to offer and how much you wanted to learn about him.

You felt a surge of affection. You would do anything to make him happy, to support him and to be there for him whenever he needed you. If he ever needed you.

"You're free," you said, feeling a sense of relief and happiness. "So they let you go in the end?"

Dream hesitated before replying, "No."

"…No?"

"The binding circle has been broken," he explained, his voice tinged with sadness. "Paul has lended me his... assistance. But they did not set me free.”

“Oh,” you said softly. “You were your own savior.”

“I was,” he confirmed, a hint of pride in his voice.

“Are they…?”

“They are unscathed,” he assured. “But I could not allow my captor to be left unpunished.”

Dream used the word "captor" instead of its plural form. Given that Paul had apparently attempted to release him, it was logical to assume that Alex was the only victim involved.

Still, you needed to know more. “What did you do…?”

Dream looked down, almost in fear of your judgement. “Eternal sleep.”

You thought about Paul, so kind and good-hearted, getting worried sick about his husband's inability to wake up from his sleep. You knew It would be tough for him to see his partner in that state, unable to wake him up for many days to come.

However, you also couldn't forget about Alex's actions, following his father's lead and causing significant damage to the man in front of you. The way they always portrayed him as a dreadful monster who would slaughter them if he was released, made the final punishment seem not so harsh. Taking everything into account, he spared Paul, the guards, and anyone else in the house. The only person he had a grudge against was Alex Burgess, and he still left him physically unharmed despite what the man took away from him.

In the end, you couldn't consider it particularly unfair. Although you felt sorry for Paul, it was difficult to empathize with his husband considering what you had witnessed in Dream’s memories.

You sighed, nodding slightly, and offered him another sweet smile. Dream appeared astonished, seemingly expecting a different reaction from you. Were you supposed to be afraid of him?

If anything, you were not exempt from those mistakes. You accepted the money they offered you to watch him, speak to him and potentially coerce him. Although you made it clear that you wanted to be on his side, you still went along with the plan and put your own interests before his.

Hence, how could you be considered innocent?

Perhaps he came to you just for that reason, to conclude his business with you and finally move on.

You ran your hand along the edge of his collar, distractingly toying with its fabric. "Dream, I'm so sorry.”

You knew that wouldn't really give him back the time he had lost, but what else could you say to make amends now?

Dream, however, was far from being resentful towards you. He frowned in confusion, parting his lips and looking at you as if you had just said the most absurd thing in the world.

“Why are you apologizing?” He asked.

"Because I was there… and I took their money. I spent the past three months talking to you like I would with a guest in front of a cup of tea,” you chuckled. “I feel terrible just thinking about it. I ended up growing attached to you, to your company. I’ve been selfish, putting my needs before yours time and time again. I said I wanted to help you and yet… look at what I’ve done instead.”

Your heart was heavy, torn apart by years of sacrifices and misery.

“You should punish me too,” you concluded. “I deserve it.”

Dream's forehead almost touched yours as his lips formed a little smile. “Do you wish to be punished?”

"Do you not want to?”

"No, I do not want such thing," he replied.

"But why?"

"Over a century in that cage and none of my captors has shown me half of your kindness and compassion,” he said. “Fear not, I am not here to cause you harm.”

A part of you felt relieved, but you couldn't shake off the feeling of dissatisfaction.

“I’m not afraid, Dream. I never was.”

“I know.”

“I wish I could have helped you. I wish I could have freed you.”

“You have tried.”

“And I have failed.”

As you stood there, replaying the events of the past few days in your mind, you felt a deep sense of guilt and regret. The guards had pathetically dragged you away, just when you were so incredibly close to granting him his freedom. You left without even saying goodybe, accepting the sad reality of your inadequacy.

But despite everything, Dream wasn't thinking any less of you because of it. The intensity of his eyes took your breath away and the deepness of his voice had your knees shaking.

"You have put yourself at risk for my sake," he pointed out. "Your bravery knows no boundaries. Please, allow me to grant you a wish."

"A wish?"

"Yes. Anything you want, I can give it to you."

You exhaled, feeling all the tension that you had accumulated release from your body. "You don't have to do this for me, or anything really."

"Perhaps I don't, but it would please me to do so."

You considered it for a moment, lowering your eyes and following the contour of his neck, the collarbones that you could barely notice under his black shirt and his chest covered by the long, regal coat he was wearing.

What kind of wish did you want to see fullfilled? With all the pieces slowly going back to their original place, you couldn't really find an answer to that question.

Yet, there was still something missing from the big picture. Something that had been nagging at the back of your mind for a while now.

"I have only one request," you finally said, looking up at Dream with a determined expression. “Can you tell me your name?”

Once again, Dream was absolutely buffled. That was clearly not the kind of wish that he had in mind when he offered to grant one for you.

"I have many names," he replied.

You have met him before and he has many names.

"How do you want me to call you?"

He is a storm, an idea, the anthropomorphic embodiment of dreams and imagination. He is that which you do not know and he is that which you can not know. He is a mystery to some, a legend to others.

You looked at him expectantly, although a name seemed to hold no importance to him at all.

In the end, he gave you the answer you had been looking for. “I am Morpheus.”

Another rush of memories hit you, something you had once forgotten, but that came back to you in a wave the moment he introduced himself to you for the first time.

That name wasn’t new. In fact, you had heard it somewhere else before.

“You’re here now, are you not?”

Her voice was soothing, echoing in the vastness of the room.

“Define ‘here’.”

Her lips twisted into a half-smile. “The Dreaming. This is Lord Morpheus’s castle, or rather, what remains of it.”

She gestured to the ruined structure in front of you, the walls crumbled as you heard a distant crunching sound.

“The Dreaming… Lord Morpheus…”

The more you searched for any clue, any piece of information that could help you understand, the more questions you found instead. “I don’t understand… what happened to this place?”

The woman lowered her eyes with a deep sense of distress. She breathed in deeply, her chest rising and falling as she adjusted her glasses. “Lord Morpheus left many years ago. Without him, The Dreaming has started to decay and it continued deteriorating ever since. Even the Waking World is suffering from this change, in a way.”

And there was more.

“Have I ever been here?”

The man with the jacket took a step forward. “Not here with us, no. Things are a little… different than they used to be without Lord Morpheus.”

It all made sense now. Just as you suspected, after Dream was imprisoned, his realm was so greatly affected that many people fell ill with the Sleepy Sickness. Even future generations inherited a part of it, experiencing insomnia and a total lack of dreams. Since that world had become rotten, corrupted, and completely inaccessible to human beings, those strange encounters that you still couldn't properly remember in their entirety (or understand even) slipped away from your mind upon waking up.

Now that the puzzle was more or less complete, your smile intensified, and you pressed yourself closer to his body.

“Morpheus,” you repeated, enjoying the way it sounded on your tongue. “I like it, it suits you.”

You stayed there, staring at his perfect face, in the comforting silence of the night. You were inebriated by the smell of sand, the salty ocean, and a mixture of exotic fragrances that were unlike anything you had ever known.

Then he inquired, "Is that all you wish to receive from me, my name?"

You shrugged. "My father is doing better now, and you are standing right here in front of me, free from that cage and that awful place.” You paused, pushing your fingers further around his neck without even noticing. “What else is there for me to wish for? I have a roof over my head, people who care about me. I am alive, as perfectly imperfect as I am. I'm lucky to have what I have, and to be able to speak to you like this now."

He listened to you in silence, mesmerized once again by the honesty of your heart.

“I might be a simple one, but I don’t need that much to feel content."

Riches? Immortality? Those things meant nothing to you.

As you snuggled closer to him, you realized that life was too short to waste on trivial things. You wanted to cherish every moment with the people you cared about and create meaningful memories that would last a lifetime.

In that moment, you felt a deep sense of gratitude for everything that had led you to that point. The challenges you had faced, the people you had met, good or bad, and the experiences you had to face through hardships and tiring efforts. All that had shaped you into the woman you were today, with your mistakes and imperfections that you could only accept as human.

You felt his fingers drawing little patterns on your sides, curling around the silky material of your nightgown and forming yet another connection between your souls, now inevitably intertwined.

You got lost in his eyes again, sucked into the intricate waves that seemed to move within his irises. It was as if you were staring at a starry sky, or at the calmest sea. There was an entire universe enclosed within that work of art and your heart was beating ever faster now that you could feel his steady breath on your lips.

Those lips...

You looked down at his plump mouth with a growing desire, wishing to feel it pressed against yours in a heated kiss. You wanted to savor him, to let him devour you. You wished for him to touch you more, to feel those hands in other places that you couldn't even describe for how obscene it sounded just thinking about it.

Yes, that was your wish. A wish that you wanted to remain a secret, a wish you could not reveal to him because he wouldn’t grant it if you asked for it.

Or would he...?

Morpheus never looked away from you. He was reading you, studying you, acting stoic and distant, but you had the impression that he was trying not to bring you even closer than you already were.

A shockwave ran through your entire form when his right thumb and forefinger gently took your chin with a feather-like touch, not actually holding it, but lifting it up high enough for him to bring his lips exactly where you wanted them.

"Then I shall offer you a gift."

You could barely register his words before he pressed his lips onto yours in a tender, delicate kiss. The warmth enveloping your mouth was delicious, and the way his lips felt and moved against yours was absolutely perfect. It was a kiss that spoke a thousand words, that conveyed more emotion than any language ever could. It was a kiss that made you feel alive and cared for, that made you forget about all your worries and fears. It was a kiss that you would remember more than your first, a moment of pure bliss that you would hold dear for the rest of your life.

It was so chaste and tender that it melted your racing heart, leaving you almost unmoving, completely secure in his embrace. Time seemed to stand still, as if the universe itself was waiting to see what would happen next.

Your breaths mingled into one when he finally detached from you, leaving you wanting and empty, desiring more of his touch, of his lips, of his taste.

You craved all of him.

Gaining enough courage, you let all your inhibitions go and crashed your lips back against his before he could fully let you go. You moved them with more fervor, wrapping your arms around his neck as the firework in you exploded and vibrated through your veins.

At first, you thought that your forward action would cause him to slow you down or pull away. But when he responded to the kiss with equal passion and took a better hold of your waist, the explosive sensasion intensified and you couldn’t contain it. Your tongues met and collided, exploring each other again and again in the most sensual dance you had ever shared with a man.

You moaned into his mouth as your hands ran along his neckline, then lower and down to his chest without parting. He groaned slightly, but soon there was a rumble to it which caused the hair on your nape to stand on.

It was too much. The kiss was leaving you breathless and dizzy in a good way, it was toe-curling and mindblowing. Morpheus was like a powerful magnet, attracting you with a strength that could not be resisted. However, when the need to breathe became impossible for you to ignore, you reluctantly broke the kiss with a soft pop and looked up to inspect his half-lidded expression.

What you saw there had you paralyzed, excited and gasping for air. Morpheus’s hunger could be spotted in the glint of his eyes and the way his Adam's apple bobbed confirmed that he was keeping himself restrained, wanting you as much as you wanted him.

So you took a step back, reaching for the straps of your nightgown to push them off and let them fall from your shoulders while keeping the rest of the fabric firmly pressed against your chest. He was frozen in place, observing you in silence and waiting for your next move. The air around you was electric with anticipation and you could feel the heat of his gaze on you as you stood before him, slowly baring yourself.

Feeling confident, you let the night garment drop onto the floor completely, stepping out of it and allowing your breasts to be exposed in front of his eyes. Your body was only partially covered by the thin cotton layer of your underwear now, as the warm light of the lamp painted you with its warm glow. His heated gaze roamed your naked form, taking in every inch of your skin and following all your curves.

You were filled with a mixture of nervousness and heightened arousal for being practically nude and vulnerable, but the way he looked at you made you feel desirable and powerful.

Wrapping your arms around him once more, you brought your lips close to his chin, brushing them lightly on it and breathing heavily against him as if your life depended on it. His hands enclosed around your bare back, sliding up and coming in contact with the little scar that the piece of broken bottle had left on you. You jumped, feeling the sensitivity that had remained on the healed cut.

Morpheus paused to check more of it, drawing along the scar's shape with his fingertips. His hands felt cool on you, but his touch was incredibly gentle and careful.

You closed your eyes and let out a soft sigh. The fire between you was burning hotter, consuming you with an insatiable craving within. His hands were holding you like you would break if he applied more pressure, his lips descended to your cheekbone, tracing a path along your jaw and settling on your neck.

As you struggled to resist any longer, you grabbed the lapels of his coat and moved backward, taking him with you towards the bed. Morpheus silently complied, walking along as you continued to kiss him on the lips.

When the back of your knees hit the edge of the mattress, you positioned yourself and slid over the covers, letting him move down with you. The bed lowered under the weight of your bodies as he straddled you, looking into your eyes and running his right hand over your thigh.

Your breath became heavier, labored, you were panting from how much you needed to be with him. Morpheus brought his mouth to your ear, set a strand of hair aside and whispered deeply, "Breathe."

The way he spoke sent shivers down your spine, yet somehow he managed to instantly calm you down. You inhaled a few times to steady yourself and Morpheus kissed your forehead, descending on your lower lip and collarbones. His touch went up to your breasts where he enveloped your mounds in his palms. You jolted, arching your back for the instant stimulation of your nipples.

He wasn't teasing, going straight to what you needed without playing any games. You hummed in appreciation and ran your fingers through his hair, gently scratching the back of his head with your nails. His lips traced wet kisses on your neck, slow and sensual. He released your breasts and his hands took hold of their sides, pushing them up as his thumbs made soft, electric circles on the tips, igniting a new flame into your core and making you gasp. You felt a wave of pleasure wash over you, his eyes never left yours, not even when he shifted down and moved his hands along your stomach and abdomen. His fingers drew closer to the hem of your underwear, tracing the lacy edge with curiosity and hesitation.

You bit your lip, opening your legs as an invitation and granting him more access with a certain impatience.

Morpheus's breathing became shorter as well. Although you were eager to see him undressed once again, you wanted to savor the moment and not rush anything now that it was finally happening outside of your daydreams.

You were feeling extremely aroused at the moment, but you still wanted him to take his time with you. You wanted him to worship you and bring you to the stars and beyond with his touch alone.

As he looked for confirmation, your reactions gave him the go-ahead. He hooked his fingers under your panties and started to pull them down. You lifted your hips to allow him to take off the last garment, and he dragged the article of clothing down your thighs, legs, and ankles. He swallowed again when your panties hit the floor, leaving you with nothing else on.

Morpheus took another good look at your naked form, his eyes dark with hunger as he stared at your flushed cheeks and swollen lips. His gaze descended to your round breasts and pert nipples, running down to the smooth skin of your stomach until he reached your hipbones. Now he had a proper, full view of the most intimate part of you, served in front of him on a silver platter.

Your clit was already throbbing and begging for attention, while your lower lips were glistening and desperately clenching around nothing. He wasted no time filling the space between your legs when you spread them wider. Every movement of his was sensual and sinuous, he knew exactly how to make you lose your mind and you wanted him to take full control on you.

He pressed his clothed body onto yours, his weight feeling deliciously heavy against you. He caressed your cheek with the back of his hand while fondling your breasts, you could feel his hardness through his pants, as the thick fabric rubbed your clit insistently.

Morpheus seemed to take your intensifying moans as a signal to escalate things further. He leaned in and explored your mouth the same way you did before, meeting your tongue halfway and caressing your appendage. You were so lost in the action that you were taken off guard when he circled your clit with his fingertips, moving them deliberately slowly to savor your growing pleasure and make you melt into a puddle of bliss.

You gasped into the kiss, your hips bucking up to meet his touch. He continued to trace little patterns around your sensitive nub, dipping inside your folds as you grabbed onto his locks again. You pulled him closer to you and shook uncontrollably, already feeling your first orgasm building inside just with the minimum pressure he was applying.

Morpheus immediatly sensed your growing need, stopping his motions at once. You let out a whimper of disappointment, taking either side of his face and biting his lower lip softly. He liked that; you could feel his erection jumping against your thigh and his eyes darkened even more with eagerness for you.

"Please," you whispered, your voice barely audible.

He didn't reply, but upon hearing your plea, the King of Dreams rose from the mattress and knelt down onto the floor. His long coat pooled perfectly behind him like a regal cape.

He pulled your thighs forward, which were already unceremoniously open in front of him. He brought his lips close to your sex and flattened his tongue along your slit, giving it an amazing tentative lick.

The sensation of his tongue on you was like heaven and you couldn't help but fight with all your might to keep your eyes on his. You were tempted to throw your head back in pleasure, but you didn’t want to miss a single moment of what he was doing to you. The way he looked at you while lapping at your clit was making you burst, it was literally the sexiest view you had ever seen during an intercourse. No other man had touched you like you deserved the world. Nobody had ever made you burn with desire the way he did. You were always used to quick sexual encounters that always left you unsatisfied, but with Morpheus, everything was just on another level. He was treating your body with so much care and attention, willing to fully satisfy you before even considering his own needs.

Not a single article of clothing had been discarded except for yours. He was ignoring his physical discomfort in favor of your pleasure, going down on you and wrapping his mouth around your most sensitive area. You could see your clit following his tongue, jumping around as the pressure on it increased. It was like the most delicious treat to him.

He continued to relentlessly devour you and you felt yourself slipping further and further into a state of ecstasy. His tongue was a symphony, playing you like an instrument. He moved it up and down, from side to side, or in a circular motion, making you cry out in bliss. The way he alternated between slow kitten licks and hungry open-mouthed kisses was driving you crazy.

He knew exactly what you wanted whenever a thought took form in your mind. He was making your whole body sing, continuing to lick and suck at your clit, lifting its hood and relishing the sensitive tip. His fingers massaged your inner walls in a sensual come-hither motion, parting your hot walls and producing a sequence of wet, incredibly loud noises.

You dug your hands into his hair, holding it for dear life. Morpheus was calculated in his every movement and all he did was designed to make you feel the most earth-shattering feelings you had ever experienced. You were completely under his spell and you didn’t really want it any other way.

Unable to keep your eyes open, you finally let your head fall back as you arched, tightening your fingers around his strands and pulling slightly. You felt him touch that sweet, spongy spot deep inside your core, he probed at it just the right, perfect way and you knew that you were just done for.

"Morpheus... I..." you moaned, your words trailing off as you were consumed.

"Give it to me," he whispered, making your clit vibrate even more as he expertly flicked it fast until you thought you would explode.

And with that, you let go. Your body convulsed as waves of pleasure washed over you, and you cried out his name as you came right there and then. It was the most intense orgasm you had ever received, your hands tightened around the sheets so hard that you were sure you heard a tear somewhere. It last so long that you felt exhausted when it subsided, leaving you electrified as Morpheus kissed and licked at your sensitive flesh a little more to draw it all out of you. His hands were holding you impossibly close and you slowly came back down to earth.

Lying motionless on the mattress while panting and sweating, you couldn’t see his clothes dissolving into a cloud of sand like magic. As he held you firmly and enveloped you with his arms while climbing back on your shaking body, you suddenly felt his skin directly touching yours with no other barrier left.

When you opened your eyes, you were greeted by the familiar sight of his naked frame - pale and smooth like the most precious marble. He was still lean, but you noticed that he was in better shape and his muscles were a little more defined than before. If he was already the most beautiful thing you had ever seen in that bowl, now you almost wanted to cry at how stunning he looked.

You smiled, still a little short of breath, placing one of your warm palms on the side of his face and reaching out for his chest with the other.

"Nice trick," you said. "Very convenient."

His lips, shiny from your juices and his own saliva, formed one of those subtle smiles that you loved so much. He brought his still wet fingers up to his mouth, sticking them into it and sucking them clean in the most seductive way.

“Shit,” you cursed, feeling your blood boiling all over again as your arousal started to pick up. “You’ll be the death of me.”

Morpheus leaned down on you, initiating another soft and affectionate kiss that made you taste yourself in the mix. "I hope not," he said, his voice low and seductive. “It would greatly displease me.”

You moved your hands up and down his back and he positioned himself on you. The moment he put his knees on either side of your hips, you let your eyes travel down to scan his firm chest, his flat stomach and the inviting curves produced by his belly muscles. Whenever he shifted around or stood in the cage, you had always done your best to avoid looking below his waist. But now, with him so wonderfully pressed against you and ready to fully take you to new, agonized heights, you gave yourself permission to finally peek downward.

As you did, your breath got caught in your throat and you stared in awe at the sheer size of him. His erection was mouth-watering, standing hard and proud against his stomach with the reddened tip leaking tiny droplets onto your inner thigh. It was raging, bobbing and waving whenever he adjusted himself between your legs. You watched the vein running along his shaft pulsing in need, the thick underside creating a perfect symmetry along his length and the wet glans begging to be squeezed inside of you.

You moaned when he brushed the tip of his erection along your oversensitive clit, reacting to his stimulation just the way he expected. Your fingers dug into his skin and you spread your legs even wider, panting into his ear with the sweetest abandon. The damaged nerves in your wrist didn’t like the pressure, but you couldn’t be bothered anymore. You could feel the heat growing, the wetness spreading as you became more and more aroused despite your orgasm. Morpheus was equally craving you, continuing to tease you with his tip in a stable motion.

With a sudden surge of boldness, you reached down to stroke him, moving your hand up and down his length in a slow, steady rhythm. He exhaled in response, his hips jumping while your fingers massaged all the right places.

Part of you wanted to test his resistance and see how long he could last, making him burst into your hand, or release deep into your throat. But you had other plans for the night. Your inner walls were drenched and desperate to welcome him inside. You kissed him deeply on the lips, aligning yourself to his shaft and waiting for him to sink in. Your legs were starting to ache from the impossibly wide spread.

Your heart, still beating like a drum, sped up even more when you felt his warm tip passing through your entrance. Something had snapped for him too, because the moment you begged him to hurry up and put it into you, he replaced your hand with his and roughly pushed himself between your folds without any indecision.

It didn’t hurt, he slid in incredibly easily due to how lubricated you were. He almost immediately hit your soft spot with the first thrust, burying into your body without sparing an inch, deep into your core to the hilt.

Such a perfect fit.

You wrapped your legs around him tightly, pulling him even closer as you adjusted to his size. He began to move, making shallow thrusts at first as you both got used to the feeling of being joined so intimately together. Growing confident, his movements became more franctic and way harder, causing you to gasp and whine again. His lips were parted as he breathed heavily for exertion, keeping himself up with his elbows planted onto the mattress. Your foreheads were touching, sweetly and delicately bumping into one another with each strong push delivered by his pelvis.

Looking at him now, so beautiful, so strong and so astonishingly marvelous as a whole, you could feel your emotions growing and piling up. You couldn't stop the tears that formed at the corner of your eyes, dripped down along your cheekbones, your earlobes, wetting your hair as they fell.

The feelings you had developed for Dream of The Endless were out of this world, born in the most unconventional way. With him moving inside you, sliding back and forth while the sound of skin slapping on skin filled your entire room, you realized just how touch-starved you had been since your last breakup.

Morpheus slowed down, his lips leaving a trail of kisses on your face and neck until he reached the junction with your shoulder. He stayed there, pressing his lips to your skin and inhaling your scent. He roamed your body with his hands, caressing every part of you.

You could feel him quickening his pace and tightened your arms around his torso, your hand finding its way to his nape and playing with the short hair there. He continued to thrust into you with intensity, your body tensed up and your muscles coiled like a spring ready to burst.

The two of you were complicit, understanding what the other was feeling without a single word. Your emotional exhaustion was taking over, having been pent-up for so long. Yet, the joy and exhilaration of having him held tightly in your arms (and legs) after three months of one-sided conversations through the glass was almost blinding.

On the other hand, Morpheus had been carrying around a hundred years of suffocated anger, having lost everything and being trapped in a cage as if he was worth nothing. You let him release all that and more, allowing him to push hard into you and drown in his own gratification.

As he nuzzled his face into your neck, Morpheus secured your thighs higher around his hips, comforting you with his caring gestures. You did your best to match his motions, meeting his pelvis whenever he pushed himself down. With each thrust, your sensitive area was stimulated in a way that you had never known before. Your second orgasm began to take shape, burning inside of you like a bonfire.

Morpheus traced the curve of your shoulder, collarbone, and breast with his hands, sliding over your nipple and moving downward. As his fingers reached your clit, he began massaging it in sync with his movements. The pleasure was so intense that you snapped like an elastic cord, and a new wave of ecstasy swept over you, forcing your eyes shut as you reached your high. Your inner walls convulsed around him, squeezing his length until you were completely spent and satisfied.

He continued to slide into you at a faster pace, panting and groaning in your ear. You felt his climax approaching, and his thrusts became irregular, building up to the peak of his pleasure. You were right there to indulge him.

Morpheus abruptly stopped and raised himself from the mattress, seemingly intending to take his length out of you. However, before he could do so, you grabbed his upper arms and shook your head. In a breathless voice, you pleaded, "Please don’t... I'm protected."

The Endless scrutinized your eyes for any hint of doubt or fear. Seeing the trust and need in your determined expression, he decided to remain buried deep inside you. He returned to the bed, continuing his activity and muffling his impending moans with a kiss. When the greatest pleasure finally took him, Morpheus tumbled over the edge without getting away, keeping his mouth on yours and breathing heavily as his hips jerked violently and repeatedly. You felt the heat of his essence coating your walls, reaching deep parts of you that you thought were once unreachable.

You were still stroking Morpheus's hair, absently running your nails along the back of his head. Despite the physical activity, he didn't show a single droplet of sweat, making you feel gross in comparison. Nevertheless, he appeared eager to remain connected to you even after his climax. He kept his forehead on yours, rubbing your noses together and losing himself in the moment.

Regaining your breath and energy, you listened to the soft sound of your breathing and the occasional contented sigh. Morpheus didn't budge, keeping his softening length inside you and silently enjoying the way you cuddled him. He was reluctant to let you go and you seemed to be opposed to the idea as well, so you laid there in each other's embrace, enjoying the warmth and closeness of your intertwined bodies.

Time felt meaningless in his arms. You kissed his shoulder a few times before turning your head and meeting his temple. You shifted your hands down to feel his shoulder blades and run your fingers along his spine, reaching his back dimples to tease the skin of his buttocks. Moving your hands up again, you drew the shape of his biceps, feeling him react to your administrations with a soft hum.

Morpheus didn’t say anything, allowing you to discover his body all over again, taking in every curve and ridge to feel the smoothness of his skin and the contours of his muscles.

And then, your actions produced quite a pleasant consequence that you hadn't considered; his shaft was hardening again between your folds, awakening from its short rest with a happy twitch. You couldn't help but smirk at the way he immediatly recovered with your effusions, feeling a sense of satisfaction and power wash over you.

You moved your hips, adjusting your legs and feeling the way his length grew thicker inside you without even getting out. After experiencing the two best orgasms of your entire life, you expected to be completely satisfied and way too tired to even attempt anything else. But somehow, you still wanted more of him and what he had to give.

Morpheus looked at you, his eyes filled with a mix of desire and amusement. "You are insatiable," he said, a hint of a smile playing at the corners of his lips.

You laughed, feeling a sense of confidence and playfulness spreading through you. "And you love it.”

"I do," he said, his voice low and husky.

He pulled out, leaving just the tip inside. Then he slipped back into you with a powerful thrust, causing your overstimulated nerves to shake like a large-scale earthquake. The way he glanced down at you again ignited all of your senses and he set a challenging pace that was difficult to follow with your aching limbs. The mesmerizing friction between your bodies became stronger as he gave you open-mouthed kisses, panting and growing against your lips. You could feel his need for you, his hunger developing with every passing second.

The sound of your wet walls around his shaft was absolutely obscene, but the established intimacy between you set your heart on fire. His girth continued to bump against your cervix, sending shocks directly to your swollen and tired clit. It was lightly brushing against his lower body, barely enough to give it the pressure it required, but still good enough to make it tremble and bring you closer to your final release.

Morpheus didn't pause, even when he readjusted himself and lifted up from the bed. He observed the blissful expression on your face, your breasts bouncing from the force of the collision.

“You feel so good,” you admitted, wanting him to know how much he was affecting you.

Hearing that, he let his hands roam up to your chest, enveloping your flesh with passion and lust. "You are exquisite," he replied, kissing your chin and applying more force to his thrusts.

You were losing yourself, melting into a pool of pure ecstasy. His wet tongue trailed down to your collarbones, teasingly brushing against your skin and finally reaching one of your nipples. It timidly licked around the tip, making it harden and tingle before closing his mouth on it. He bagan to suckle lightly, sending waves of ecstasy throughout your entire form.

As he left your nipple behind and raised into a sitting position, you both stared at each other more intimately than ever before. His eyes stayed locked on yours while pushing continuously into you, taking your wrists in his hands and attempting to pull them over your head.

The moment he did, a sharp pain jolted through your arm and you hissed in discomfort. Morpheus stopped immediately, looking at you apologetically and halting all his motions at once.

"I'm sorry... it's not fully healed yet," you explained.

Although he loosened his grip around your injured wrist, he didn't let it go. Instead, he decided to inspect it carefully, running his thumb over the sensitive area without applying any pressure. Your heart fluttered when he brought it to his lips, kissing it tenderly and closing his eyes in the process. It was such a sweet gesture that another rush of tears threatened to form and you gazed at him with an ever-growing love.

When he looked back at you, your smile widened, then you forced yourself up to meet his lips with a powerful kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck. Morpheus readjusted you both, keeping you pressed to his body and resuming the lovemaking session. He supported you with one arm around your lower back, while keeping himself steady with the other hand sunk into the sheets. You moved in perfect synchrony, lost in each other's arms.

The burning sensation in the pit of your abdomen was returning and your walls were already squeezing him to welcome more of his essence inside. It didn't take long for you to reach completion with a much lighter sensation than before, but still an explosion bordering on the ecstatic that gave a delicious wave of warmth, peace, and relaxation. It started from within and terminated on your clit, which kept pulsating despite the minimum contact.

Morpheus groaned into your neck, unable to hold back any longer. With a few final thrusts, the repeated clenching around his length intensified the tension. He filled you up with his hotness as you both collapsed onto the mattress, panting heavily in satisfaction.

Short of breath, you placed your palm flat against his chest. You felt his heart beating rapidly as he recovered, guiding his right hand to the top of your breast. You held it there, both of you panting from exhaustion. He listened to the beating of your hearts, mingling in a beautiful melody that interrupted the silence surrounding you. You intertwined your fingers with his, sighing deeply and stretching your jelly-like legs.

You imprinted the magic of that moment into your memory, savoring it like the most beautiful dream that had ever come true. Morpheus sealed the enchantment with another kiss before pulling out of you and sitting on the bed with one leg bent in front of him, while the other hung on the edge of the mattress. You rose from the sheets too, positioning yourself next to his body and drawing irregular patterns on his fingertips with your nails.

The sparkles were fading and the knowledge of what was about to happen twisted your insides. Morpheus couldn't stay with you forever; he had an important duty to fulfill, one that you couldn't yet fully comprehend. The thought of him leaving you behind was atrocious, making you wonder if your first encounter would also be the last.

You took a deep breath, moving closer to him and speaking in a soft voice. “Will I see you again?”

He considered the answer to give you, shifting his gaze and responding to your touch. "I will always be beside you, in your dreams."

The realization hit you like a cold shower, and you couldn't hide the sorrow that seeped into your soul. "Only in my dreams?" You asked Morpheus. "I know I'm just a human, and I don't have any right to ask for special treatment from you. But I would love to see you again in this world too, so I can show you its good side and a little more of myself as well. Just as much as I want to learn about you and what you do."

His eyes seemed to water, and his fingers closed tightly around yours. He brought your hand to his lips, kissing it gently on the knuckles like a prince charming with Cinderella.

"If that is your wish, then I can grant it.”

You shook your head. "Thanks, but... what is it that you wish?”

“Why do you ask?”

"I'm happy to know you want to satisfy my desires, but I'd hate to force you into meeting me again when, in actuality, you do not wish for that to happen.”

"You believe I do not want to see you?”

"Do you?"

You and Morpheus just had the most incredible sex of your entire life. It was hard for you to believe that he didn't feel at least a quarter of what you felt for him after what he gave you that night. Still, the truth was that you didn't know him well enough to determine if what he truly wanted matched with your needs at all, especially considering you were sitting in front of a literal God and you held no comparison.

However, what he told you next put your heart immediately at rest. "It would please me to meet you again. In my realm, and in the Waking World.”

You bit your lower lip, trying to contain the joy that was leaking through your pores. “Really? You promise?”

“Yes.”

Despite the intimacy you had just shared with him, you were still amazed by how caring and considerate Morpheus was towards you, a mere human. He always seemed to measure his words whenever he spoke, but you could tell he had nothing more to prove to you.

"My apologies," he whispered, moving a strand of hair behind your ear and admiring it as it slipped through his fingers. "I must return to the Dreaming.”

You smiled. "Of course, don't let me keep you from your work.”

He kissed your forehead, guiding you down until the back of your head hit the softness of your pillow. Suddenly, you felt incredibly sleepy and struggled to keep your eyes open as the bedsheets enveloped your naked body.

You didn't even notice that he was fully dressed again. It was as if his clothes had materialized back the same way they previously dissolved into thin air.

“Sleep, Y/N,” Morpheus said, his honey-like voice soothing.

Hearing him say your name for the first time was definitely intoxicating and you especially liked how it sounded coming from his lips.

As you drifted off, you could see him stepping back and taking a leather pouch from his coat. He loosened its strings and poured a bunch of sand into his hand, which cascaded down into an infinite stream.

A gust of wind blew on your face as the grains formed a swirl. It swallowed up his entire form, making him disappear as if he was never there.

All that remained were some of those golden grains floating in your room like magic dust. You could swear they fell over you, getting absorbed by your closing eyelids.

The next morning, your body was aching all over. As you stood in the shower, you replayed the previous night in your head, still feeling the touch of Morpheus's hands and lips lingering on your skin, along with the warmth of his body inside you.

Morpheus was a passionate lover, and without a doubt the best you had ever had the luck to welcome in your bed. His standards were so high that you feared no one else would be able to match them, but to be honest, you didn't really want to be with anyone else now that you had a taste of what you could experience.

You barely knew the man, or rather, the Endless being, but no matter how hard you tried, you couldn't imagine your life without him in it anymore.

You didn't even know what to expect from there, but it was clear from what he told you that your night together was only just the start of something greater. You were absolutely beaming because of that, unable to even remember the last time you felt so whole and full of energy (despite the fatigue in your legs).

It was a bright day outside and the sky was clearer than ever before. As you walked down the street, you felt like you were floating above the clouds. Passersby kept turning to watch you in awe - men, women, even kids found your smile particularly interesting and contagious.

It was as if your entire reality had been turned upside down. All those hard times were now just a distant memory and you didn't want to think about possible pitfalls that might be lurking around the corner. No, things were different now - you were different. Morpheus had saved you in more ways than one, you couldn't even begin to describe how much you owed him, or how much you loved him.

You sat down on an empty bench in the Richmond Green park, sipping your warm coffee and breathing in the amazing air that smelled like moss and resin. Despite missing the city during your stay at the Burgess mansion, you still loved to immerse yourself in nature. It made you feel one with the earth - grounded and invigorated.

As you finished your drink, you noticed something black approaching you from the corner of your eye. A raven was standing very close to your feet, seemingly intent on watching you while also remaining vigilant of its surroundings.

Birds of prey are incredibly intelligent. You always appreciated their presence as they enriched the urban wildlife. You were also quite surprised by the knowledge you had obtained, effortlessly differentiating ravens from crows. You used to mix them up due to their similar structure and feathers, but now it was just so easy.

The memories that Morpheus had shared with you apparently enhanced your bird watching skills.

You smiled, staring at the raven with curiosity. It didn't seem to want to move, fixated on you for reasons you couldn't really explain.

"I'm sorry, little friend. I don’t have any food to offer you," you said. "It's quite beautiful out here, is it not?"

For a moment, you thought the raven was turning its head to you and nodding, as if it could fully understand your words. "Please, feel free to stay for as long as you like. I enjoy the company.”

And that is exactly what the creature did. You remained on that bench for the next hour and a half, occasionally checking your phone and closing your eyes to relax. The raven seemed comfortable there with you, moving its black and shiny eyes around, checking for every movement and inspecting each person that passed in front of you. You felt as if you had your personal bodyguard, protecting you from any ill-intentioned individual that might decide to walk a little too close.

You mentally laughed.

When the clock hit noon, you stood up from the bench and secured your bag over your shoulder. The raven looked up at you from its position, so you knelt on your feet to be at eye level with it and tilted your head to one side. Crows and ravens were known to be wary of humans, often approaching them cautiously and stepping back if they felt their personal space was being invaded. But this raven seemed different. Perhaps it was accustomed to your kind?

"Thank you for staying, little one. Unfortunately, I need to go now.”

It pained you to leave it there. It was a bittersweet feeling, knowing that you couldn't take it home with you like a stray dog or cat. You wondered if it had a family or if it was just a loner like yourself.

When you walked off, the raven followed you for part of the way to the main road, but the moment you turned to check if it was still behind you, you could no longer see it.

You smiled to yourself, resuming your stroll and venturing to the heart of London.

You didn't know why it stuck so heavily with you, but you kept thinking about the raven all day.

You knew those birds were portrayed differently in various books and symbolisms, so you wondered if it had any meaning related to your case. It was weird, but somehow your gut was telling you that it signified something specific.

Sure, you were used to pigeons and crows whenever you went to the park, or even simply crossed the streets. But a raven was something more rare, and it coincidentally represented a certain connection with Morpheus. His raven was dead, that much was clear, but you weren't thinking about her ghost visiting you or anything to that extent.

Ravens were often associated with loss and ill omen, but in stories, they also acted as psychopomps, connecting the material world with the world of spirits. The only world you felt connected to was The Dreaming, a land you had never known before, but that you managed to find on your own before Morpheus could return to it.

Anyone would think you were getting a few screws loose, stressing that hard over a random encounter with a bird and seeing it like a huge occurrence that most likely held no importance. But if there was something you had learned about your instinct, it was that it rarely got anything wrong.

You refused to see it as a bad premonition, as you felt nothing but positivity from it. For the rest of the day, you glanced out the window a few times to look at the sidewalk in front of your building, in the hope to see Dream coming back for you.

You told yourself that it was just too odd of a coincidence, but there was no sight of Morpheus anywhere. You decided to put all those thoughts aside eventually, distracting yourself with your portfolio instead of racking your brains over an enigma you couldn't resolve..

That late afternoon, you felt particularly inspired. You couldn't stop your hand once the first line was traced on paper and you let your imagination run free and wild. You filled the pages with your visions and photographic memories, immersing yourself into your element and feeling like everything was going to be okay.

Interestingly enough, the one time you tried to show your work to a potential employer, you were arrogantly rejected with a destructive comment about your lack of talent and poor execution of your creations. The fashion industry can be particularly competitive, you never expected it to be easy. But the way your hard work had been demolished by a man who couldn't even properly match his clothes and shoes wiped away the little confidence you had in yourself.

One failure was all it took for you to take a step back and reconsider your aspirations, which coincidentally overlapped with your father's first diagnosis.

Looking back at it now, that rejection was actually a blessing in disguise. It wasn't the right time for you to work in a similar business. You needed to grow and shape yourself into the new person you had just become.

Now you wouldn't let any other daltonic, pompous and self-centered tyrant to annihilate you.

You put down your pencil and stretched your arms, being careful not to strain your wrist even more now that it was finally starting to heal. The sky looked like a canvas that God had painted with those mesmerizing sunset colors you loved so much, so you brewed yourself a cup of tea and settled into the comfortable Bohemian chair on your balcony. You were lulled by the sounds of the city, gazing at the beautiful hues above you.

You missed those simple moments a lot when you were away from home. In high school, your friends used to tell you how boring it was for you to spend so much time with your nose buried in a book all weekend instead of having fun with them at the nearby club. They claimed you had an enviable attention to detail, always recommending the best makeup and clothing combinations for their nights out. It was hard for them to believe that you didn't want to apply that same caring attitude to yourself, especially when it was aimed at having fun and potentially catching the attention of the most popular guy in your class, if not the entire school.

You had always been out of the ordinary, never interesting enough to be asked out until college, and according to the idiots you had tried to date, too down-to-earth to engage in makeout sessions.

You could probably count just two potentially serious relationships that you invested in, before they brutally ended because of a cheating man or the tremendous incompatibility between you and your partner.

And then, Morpheus came into your life, so suddenly, so strangely, so mysteriously. The feelings you had for him were only intensified now that you made love, establishing an indestructible bond that you wanted to pursue. Being clingy wasn't particularly in your nature and the last thing you wanted was to scare him off with an obsessive behavior. For that reason you wanted to gave him a choice, one that he decided to take on his own accord.

You let out a contented sigh and took a sip of your tea, which was now becoming cold from all your brooding. The sun was like a fireball, slowly descending behind the buildings in front of your apartment.

That is when you heard it, the distinct fluttering of wings followed by the sound of something touching the railing. When you looked up, you noticed the same raven you met in the morning, perched on the metallic edge and nonchalantly looking at you like it was the most normal thing you could expect. You blinked a couple of times, looked away, and brought your eyes back to it to ensure you weren't imagining it. The bird was clealry as real as the mug you were holding between your hands.

You looked at it in surprise and chuckled at the sight. "Hey there. Are you stalking me, little one?”

The raven let out a soft caw and puffed up its feathers in response. Did you accidentally offend it?

"Aw, don't be mad. I'm just kidding," you said with a smile. "I wasn’t expecting you to find me, is all," you added, curious about the raven's sudden reappearance.

"I'm not used to all this attention, you know? If you keep this up, I might want to adopt you," you joked, drinking more of your tea.

What followed was peculiar, something you would only expect from a movie or fairy tale.

“Yeah… that’s probably not a good idea.”

The liquid went down the wrong way, making you choke. You started to cough violently, holding your painful chest and quickly placing the partially empty mug on the small straw table next to you.

“Ouch. Sorry, my fault.”

At first, you thought that your mind was playing tricks on you. It took you a moment to recover from the shock of hearing that voice, which was definitely coming out of the raven. It sounded like it belonged to a mature man, but you were clearly looking at a bird that was totally speaking your language.

You struggled to breathe, feeling an awful scratchy sensation in your throat and your face heating up.

“Uhh… you okay?”

There was no room for mistake; the raven was talking. It jumped off the railing in concern and hopped towards you on the balcony floor to inspect you more closely. Yes, they were known as talking birds in all descriptions, but to you, that sounded like a perfectly normal, mundane, human way of expressing.

When the suffocating feeling subsided, the little guy flew to the table. You immediatly turned and adjusted your position, realizing how lively, and indeed human, his eyes looked up close.

Things were becoming more and more interesting, right when you thought you had seen it all.

And you were utterly ecstatic.

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 (currently reading) Go to Chapter 7 ->

Read on AO3!

[arcthebreeder]

Digital Monster Entry (DME)

Name: Fumamon

(lit. Wind demon monster)

Stage: Perfect

Attribute: Data

Type: Cyborg

A ninja Digimon that has mastered the excellent assassination technique of Fuma-Ryu Ninjutsu. It makes its living as an assassin disposing of its targets upon request. It specializes in melee attacks that capitalize on its outstanding physical ability, but since it also utilizes projectiles such as Shuriken, it has attack styles that leave a few openings, even at mid and long-range. It will relentlessly pursue its designated target, even if they escape, so the only way they can save themselves from Fumamon is by defeating it, it has various techniques to face its rivals:

•It is able to freely control the trajectory of the "Tsubakuro" Shuriken attached to the gauntlets on both of its arms at its own volition.

•After inflicting damage to the opponents limbs with its "Tsubakuro" and restricting their movements it finishes them off with the "Sharihotsu" a slash attack performed with "Shirasagi" and "Kurosagi" the Ninjatō on its back.

•Its last ninja technique is called "Yomi-Modoshi" in which he uses the scrolls hanging from its waist to summon Undead Digimon.