#i was asleep and there was no reason to spam my inbox like that

[nunalastor]

Inbox Post Spam!

Anonymous asked:

Nice to see a blog that's normal about FICTIONAL incest (it's not real get over it anon)

it's 100% fair for people to be put off by it and not be able to get over the power dynamics. it's just not something that bothers us personally when it's two consenting adults

Anonymous asked:

Morningcesters make some noise!!!🎉🎉🎉🎉

slay y'all

Anonymous asked:

got jumpscared by the BOATER while scrolling, I wore one for 4 years and hoped I’d never see one again why does the universe do this

It could be worse. It could have been the fedora.

Anonymous asked:

My friend redesigned Vox and Valentino into like good guys but they still fucked but she also made Valentino really tiny and squeaks so she asked me how they fucked and I said “if he has a dick and asshole it works” than I said “ *thump* *squeak* *thump* *sqeak* “ so this is your fault 👍

Anonymous asked:

I now squeak whenever i see radioapple stuff or anything with lucifer and alastor and i am now blaming you for it

-😋

Anonymous asked:

Funny thing about MY type of asexuality is I get horny, and then I project hard on my favorite characters. I don't WANT to find a partner or think of myself in that position, I'd prefer to live vicariously through my favorite characters and project onto them

Anonymous asked:

For some reason I forgot that Rosie was Rosie and thought when You type Susan Deg you were saying Rosie like a derogatory insult smt

I think I forgot who Susan was (even though I saw her picture at least 3 times) and my brian replaced her with Rosie

we would never disrespect rosie smh

@fujillamaparadise asked:

mood

idr what this is in reference to but i know i agree

Anonymous asked:

🪱🐍🦌📺

Passing by to tell traumatized mod that I started making a wormgate fanfic and there are currently 3+1 chapters 😏

thanks for the trauma

Anonymous asked:

I SWER TO GOD

THIS PERSON HAS THE SQUEAKY PART OF A DOG TOY

IN THEIR FUCKING MOUTH.

WHAT THE FUCK

THE *SQUEAK* *THUMP* SHIT IS HAUNTING MY BRAIN

-3💗

Anonymous asked:

Why does Lucifer gotta be so goddamn submissive and breedable. THERE SHOULD BE NOTHING THAT SEXY ABOUT THE FUCKING DEVIL HIMSELF.

I’ll see myself out, but only after I get to tap that ASS like I’m playing cookie clicker.

@mylz-flick asked:

Hey papis, how much sleep did you get? Did you sleep well? When can we start the somnophillia arc?

i'm 80% likely to be asleep at any given time, cursed mod probably got like four hours last night. they're a menace.

@katsuki17302 asked:

How did you start to get many hearts?🧐

You mean followers/engagement? I think because this blog was started at the height of Hazbin Hotel's popularity, we use the same tags pretty consistently, and we post so much stuff it's pretty difficult not to see us in a lot of the major tags. So, happy accident.

Anonymous asked:

What is going on with all the nun cursed cat Alastors 😭😭

something glorious.

Anonymous asked:

dommy mommy or subby hubby?

dommy mommy. men shouldn't have rights.

@fujillamaparadise asked:

Once upon a time, Alastor Altruist fell in love with a beautiful jambalaya. They got married, took over the world, and lived happily ever after. The end.

ty for this beautiful and riveting tale

@mylz-flick asked:

I just went and said hey to all my husbands and wives. Of course I have to end it with my favourite daddies.

Soz how are you daddy? Daddies? (With no rizz)

Better now that you're here, baby. <3 (With even less rizz)

@oholycatgod asked:

Ok I seriously gotta ask

WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK IS IT WITH WORMS

ARE YOU OK???

WHAT HAPPENED

you can find the saga under the #wormgate hashtag but tl;dr one of the mods was like being held down and force fed worms is kinda hot??

#nunalastor asks

[faemytho]

I know I JUST requested one but a friend and I were chatting and I don't trust myself to give this idea justice, so if I'm not being too obnoxious...

"Nobody's ever been so close to me before." But it's specifically Eel, referring to 1 of his lines mentioning getting too close to him might get you electrocuted

AHHH I AM SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG. EXAMS,,,,. also BY THE WAY, i dont care if i get sent 1 million requests, if my reqs are open ill take em if i like em and if my reqs are closed ill keep em until i feel like writing em. those of u who spam my inbox with all ur ideas, i love u.

he/they eel, u guys already know lol

wc: 909

-

Abyss Monarch did not often speak their mind. As a result of this, they were rather observant. As a result of that, when they did speak their mind, it was always some kind of statement or inquiry that hit hard, full of only absolutely necessary meaning.

Perhaps Eel was used to it by now. They knew him fairly well, or at least enough that there were definitely unspoken feelings between them that neither of them seemed content to talk about. Still, the particular question today had managed to catch him off guard.

"Eel," Abyss Monarch murmured, their voice dark like velvet and cold like the ocean floor. "Is there a reason you're so jumpy when other cookies come close?"

Electric Eel paused in the middle of a gesture, the story he'd been telling regarding Anglerfish's latest woes trailing off into nothing. He looked at Abyss Monarch, who was settled comfortably on the mattress they used for a bed, which was shoved against the wall of the broken pot they called home. It was hardly anything fit for anyone who was called a monarch, but they were content even among the dirt that smudged the floor of their home.

Abyss Monarch tilted their head, waiting for an answer.

"I'm not jumpy," Eel said, tail twitching behind him. "I just think other cookies should keep their distances from me."

Abyss raised a brow. "So," they murmured thoughtfully, pushing themself up to their feet with mindless ease, "were I to come close to you, you would ask me to retreat?"

"Well, no, but-" Eel took a step back, and Abyss took a step forward. He raised his hands in a placating gesture. "It's complicated. I don't wanna hurt anyone. I give off way too much electricity."

"I doubt you could hurt me, my Light."

Eel stared at them. They stared back, but did not take another step, instead folding their arms behind their back.

"Come here."

"What?" Eel exclaimed, his hair frizzing up in shock. "No. I don't want to hurt you."

Abyss Monarch chuckled, an amused, dark sound that echoed around the walls of the broken pot. "You cannot hurt me, Electric Eel," they said, "no more than the Sea can reach the Moon."

Eel gave them a helpless look. They watched him debate to himself, staring at them, flexing his hands like he wasn't sure what to do with himself. Finally, after a long moment, he sighed.

"If I hurt you, you gotta promise you won't let me near you again," he said firmly, but they could see his resolve dissolving away into the water. "Okay?"

"That is agreeable." Abyss tilted their head. "But it will not happen."

Electric Eel squinted at them. Slowly, like he was bracing himself, he stepped forward towards them. They watched him shuffle forward, careful and cautious, until he was standing in front of them, eyes squeezed shut.

How adorable he looked just standing there, they mused to themself. He looked scared, frightened, bristling up in preparation for something he thought might hurt them. A shock, perhaps.

"I'm going to touch you," Abyss warned, and lifted their hands to do exactly that.

He flinched when they cupped his face, tense and braced, electricity charging the water around them. Sparks danced over their fingers and down their arms, but despite the electricity, it only tingled. It was reminiscent of the feeling of a limb falling asleep, pins and needles, but not painful.

"You can open your eyes, Eel," they said softly. He cracked an eye open, still tense, but at the sight of them, he gradually relaxed. The charge faded. "I am alright, see?"

He breathed a shuddering breath, eyes opening and staring up at them. They let their thumbs rub across the skin of his cheeks.

"Can you hug me?" Eel asked, the words rushed and blurted out as though he hadn't meant to say them. Maybe he hadn't, given the way his cheeks darkened, and he averted his gaze. "Sorry, you don't have to. I just... don't really get them..."

Without answering, Abyss stepped forward and pulled Eel into a hug. He trembled as they wrapped their arms around him, stiff and unsure when they rested their cheek on the top of his head.

For a long moment, they stood there together. Abyss turned their face, closing their eyes and giving a contented sigh. Eel lifted his arms, and after another moment, wrapped them around Abyss to return the embrace.

"Nobody's ever really..." Electric Eel faltered, and trailed off, shivering in the hold of the abyss. "Ever..."

"Ever what, my Light?" Abyss Monarch murmured, their words quiet and soft and muffled into Electric Eel's mane of hair. They were content here, curled around him in the privacy of the broken pot they still called home.

"Nobody's ever been so close to me before," Eel muttered, the words soft and unsure, but he pressed against them, hungry and craving for the touch.

Their hearts twisted in their chest. Like them, he had grown used to the lack of touch, and yet longed for it. He was just like them. They held him closer.

"I'm not going anywhere," Abyss Monarch murmured, lifting a hand to thread through his mane of hair. He curled into them, his eyes falling shut. The dim hum of electric charge that always seemed to accompany him stayed, and though electricity danced over the two of them, Abyss did not mind it.

#abysseel #abyss monarch cookie #electric eel cookie #cookie run #cookie run fanfic #mae writes cookies #my writing

[rainbowmoonstonestories]

Let Your Dreams Be Your Wings | Chapter 8

Chapters: 8/? 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 smut! Minors please dni.

For this update, I did some writing research to make my text better and richer, in order to avoid most repetition. Hopefully you will see me improve more and more with the future chapters.

Tagging: @number-0-iz. If anyone else wants to be tagged in the next updates, let me know! I noticed that Tumblr sometimes won't let me tag everyone for some unknown reason, so if it comes to that I can at least send you a message to notify you.

Ko-Fi (If you ever wish to support my work)

And just like that, you found out that your best friend was immortal.

Chapter 8

After your first full night in the Dreaming, instead of meeting Morpheus on the beach again, you discovered places from your childhood memories you had entirely forgotten about and hadn’t even crossed your mind while you were awake. Moreover, you experienced peculiar events that either reminded you of your teenage years, or conveyed something too abstract for you to comprehend. You assumed this is how dreams normally operate, given that everything transpired beyond your control.

Seven whole days passed and you had not seen him once. You were aware that restoring his realm posed many complications, and that with the substantial number of humans who were falling asleep all over the globe, you weren't expecting any exclusive treatment from the otherwordly ruler of the Dream realm. Nonetheless, Morpheus had promised to see you again ‘soon’, and you didn’t quite understand what this implied for an immortal being with an eternity to spare. You needed to stop dwelling on it as it was making you anxious and sick.

In order to divert your attention, you proceeded in browsing new job vacancies on the internet, applying to corporations with an appropriate visual profile that matched your style. You were constantly checking your phone (which was fortunate enough to remain pristine after that tumble on the sidewalk), refreshing your email inbox. At the end of the day, you felt demoralized, albeit slightly amused, observing the amount of irritating spam populating your account.

You couldn't have won the lottery since you never bought a single ticket for it, and you weren't interested in claiming fake Amazon gift cards or accepting a one million bitcoin donation on your non-existent digital bank. You also couldn’t care less about the man who seemed to be enjoying a yellow banana up his butt, Nancy Pelosi being absolutely disgusted with whatever you might have done, and a certain Kim Smitherd offering millions of dollars to make you as rich as 'Bull Gates' while your aunt was dying.

You had to give these scammers credit for their entertaining content, at least.

On the bright side, your father was appearing to be progressively recuperating, gaining weight at a rapid pace and finally spending a lot more time outside of the house. He had struggled with his health for two years straight, simultaneously as Morpheus had endured a century of seclusion, solitude and mental affliction without ever turning his back on humanity. They both inspired you to relentlessly chase after your ambitions, even if it meant reaching out to each and every company in town that could provide you an opportunity.

Even though your heart sank every time you awakened devoid of sighting the King of Dreams, you carried on with all you wanted to complete, working hard from day to late evening to create some momentum in your stagnant routine.

Ten days after that sensual night with the Endless, your nerves were about to get the best of you. It was an emotion that you recalled all too well from your previous romances, and you truly hoped to not go through all that again. Since Morpheus didn't have a phone, you couldn't text nor call the Endless to invite him out for a drink. Matthew had paid you brief visits throughout that period, but the only information he disclosed was regarding how hectic Morpheus was with the reconstructions of his domain.

Feeling mentally fatigued and in need of some respite, you endevoavored to recuparate at Regent's Park, which occured to be your favorite area in London. In your childhood, your father frequently had you visit that place almost every weekend to relax and partake in a long walk amidst the captivating greenery and view the diverse species of birds that resided there. It was one of those locations that never changed, providing you with a pleasant sensation of nostalgia whenever you stopped by.

Arriving at the curved bridge over the lake, you set your arms upon the wooden railing and peacefully gazed at the ducks floating in the water, carried along by the calm flow. The discrepancy between the sounds of the natural world and the buoyant pulse of the streets was precisely what you needed, ideal for any mood you might be in.

In that particular instant, the rustling of leaves in the mild wind was consoling and harmonious. You were so lost in it that you failed to notice the woman proping herself on the guardrail beside you, observing you with a kind smile and waiting for you to acknowledge her presence. When you didn't, engrossed in your thoughts and fixated on the rippling patterns od the water underneath, she decided to initiate a conversation with a polite greeting.

“Hello.”

With a tilt of your head, you came face-to-face with a pair of dark, incredibly gentle eyes. The brown-skinned woman at your side left you struck with her voluminous black curls, so soft-looking that it almost made you want to touch them. The positivity that she exuded was immediately infectious - a rare quality in people that you couldn’t find often.

"Uhm… hello…?”

As she moved closer to where you were standing, her upper arm brushed against yours. Though the stranger's touch was in some way pleasant, it left you at a loss for words and with a bewildered look on your face. You searched your mind for any memories of her but couldn't find any.

Your brow wrinkled. "I apologize, but... have we met?"

The woman let out a brief chuckle, shaking her head. "No, but you definitely know my brother.”

You stared in confusion. "Who might he be?"

She didn't reply but kept gazing at you with the same friendly smile. Your eyes discended to the necklace she was wearing, an Ankh pendant attached to a long chain that sat comfortably on her chest.

You had read about the Ankh and what it meant in symbolism and in Egyptian culture; also known as "the key of life", it was generally used by ancient deities to represent their power and reviving human souls in the afterlife.

A symbol of life and death.

"There is Death, my sister. She is the one who greets the souls of the departed and guides them on their journey to The Sunless Lands.”

And then it hit you.

"You... you are her. Dream’s sister. You are Death."

Her smile broadened even more at your realization. “It’s a pleasure to meet you in person, Y/N.”

Aftr the initial astonishment, you began to sweat profusely. What was the reason that Death herself had come to a random spot in London in order to meet a human who was lost in thought?

You were unable to contain it and said, "Please tell me you're not here to take my soul.”

She laughed. "Of course not. I just want to talk.”

Although her response relieved you, you recognized that Death was one of the Endless, a being of tremendous power and responsibility. What sort of communication was she intending to have with a mere mortal like yourself?

Unless…

The question came naturally, and the dread attached to it was quite weighty. "Did something happen to Morpheus? Is he okay??”

Seeing your concern, Death clasped your hand on the edge of the railing in a reassuring way. "He’s fine, this is not why I came here.”

You tried to make sense of it but nothing came to light. Death took both of your hands in hers, her eyes glistened as her bright expression shifted into something hollow. Her touch was gentle, but you could feel the strength in her fingers and the safety they transmitted.

Finally, she continued. "Thank you. For taking care of my little brother when I wasn't there,” she said, her voice low and slightly hoarse.

Your throat became dry, and you were unable to respond appropriately. Instead of addressing what she told you, you questioned her.

"Did you know that he was captured?"

Somehow, you quickly became accustomed to her touch, and when she removed her hands, you mentally protested at the sudden chill that enveloped your skin for the loss of contact, despite the warm temperatures outside.

She closed her eyes, confirming with a nod of her head.

“Why didn’t you help him?”

Death let out a deep sigh, turning her melancholic gaze towards the lake in front of the bridge. "The Endless are bound to certain rules that prohibit them from interfering with each other's domains. We exist in service to the universe and the living things within it, with our own tasks and realms to oversee.”

You were aware that you should have clamped your tongue and refrained from speaking so animatedly in the presence of a formidable entity, but the immense disappointment felt within your body urged you to give it expression.

"So, you couldn't step away from your duties even for five minutes? Maybe he was hoping that you or your siblings would come to his aid, to show that you cared and let him know he wasn't alone and forgotten by his own family. What's the point of rules when someone you care about is suffering like that?”

You were filled with regret almost instantly after speaking so fervently, despite the fact that you might not have fully grasped the situation. Nevertheless, her next statement only amplified your displeasure.

"Dream’s pride would have been damaged in ways that none of us would be able to repair."

"His well-being is more important than his pride."

The atmosphere became dense and solemn. You were so fervently protective of Morpheus that it clouded your judgment. Your knowledge of their existence in the universe was restricted, so how could you presume to teach them a lesson on what ought to be done based on your assesment?

You let out a frustrated sigh. "I apologize. I understand that it's not my place to judge. As an Endless, you certainly know better than I ever will from my humble human perspective. I just can’t see how leaving Dream to his fate and ego would make up for what he went through.”

Her smile once again beamed with warmth and joy, illuminating her entire face. "My brother means a great deal to you," she said.

Your cheeks immediately turned red at her statement, and she seemed to find your reaction amusing as she giggled under her breath. Without asking further about your feelings towards her brother, she nodded her head, gesturing for you to follow her. "Come on, let's take a walk.”

She slipped her hands into the pockets of her black jeans. Her equally dark tank top showcased her perfectly toned arms, with visible muscles lining them. Although she was generally slim, she was fit and a bit taller than you. Everything she did appeared human and ordinary, but the strength you sensed in her was enough to make anyone cower in fear.

Still, she had such a sweet approach that you could hardly believe she was the literal embodiment of a Reaper. Humanity had often portrayed these figures in inaccurate ways, prioritizing creativity over accuracy.

As you walked alongside her, the sound of children's laughter filled the park. Your feet moved in perfect sync with hers, while her imposing and confident strides in leather boots made your own sneakers seem small and insecure in comparison.

"You see," she explained, "my brother needed to learn a lesson about the consequences of his actions and how they affect others. He had to confront his captors and overcome the situation on his own to grow into a better ruler of the Dreaming.”

You swallowed your bitterness. "So you're saying that this was supposed to happen? That he brought it upon himself and therefore deserved a century of emotional torment?”

A gust of wind blew through her hair, but she didn't even flinch when a curly lock fell in front of her eye. She continued to look ahead as she spoke. "Dream could have summoned me. He was given a choice, and he didn't take it.”

This made you think. If Morpheus truly had the chance to be released early, why did he choose to stay in captivity for all those years? He remained trapped in that cage without a word of complaint, despite the pain consuming him inside, all because of that one missed opportunity.

Was it really just pride that kept him there?

However, you understood all too well what it meant to feel helpless and always afraid of burdening those you cared about. As a mere mortal, you struggled to accept that you could hardly succeed on your own, so you couldn't blame Morpheus for holding onto his ego. Being powerless and unable to escape his predicament must have been unbearable for a creature like him. All Dream wanted was a straightforward offer from Death, which explained the disappointment you had seen plastered onto his face.

Sometimes, all we need is a caring gesture from someone we love, even when our answer is no.

"Would you have set him free if he had asked?”

She seemed to consider your question carefully, but ultimately chose not to answer. "You didn't know him before. You only see him for who he has become as a result of that incident.”

You gradually decreased the pace of your strides, and when you came to a standstilll, she turned and regarded you with a questioning expression.

"They killed his raven and stripped him of everything he had. The ruby, the helm, even his clothes were taken and thrown away. I don't know who Dream of the Endless was a century ago, but how is any of this justified?" you asked.

Her smile grew even wider at your passionate response, and it seemed as though the sun itself had become brighter because of it.

How ironic.

"If he hadn't taken my place that day, we wouldn't be having this conversation. If you could change the course of events, would you rather not have met Dream?”

You stood in silence, fighting to gather the correct response to give and conceding that she was in fact correct. If those particular conditions had not led you to cross paths with Morpheus, you probably wouldn’t have met the person who was bringing so much love to your existence. It pained you to realize that you would willingly choose to stay in the present reality, regardless of the implications, even if you were given the choice to shift to a separate timeline where he was not a component of your existence.

“This is so messed up,” you muttered.

Death softly squeezed your shoulders in a gesture of comfort, her eyes glistening in the sunlight. She already knew what her brother’s answer would be, and so she left him behind when he needed her the most. Their family was more complicated than you could imagine, with regulations and dynamics that were foreign to you and the world you inhabited. It was unfair to criticize their lack of intervention when you didn’t really know the depths of their connection. The only thing you could do was adjust to their nature based on what it was.

You took a deep breath. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be indiscreet."

Her expression softened. "You were not. You're sweet."

Instead of harboring resentment for something that nobody could control, you realized that there was a very important reason for you to appreciate her.

"You didn't take my father when I thought I was about to lose him. I should be thanking you, not cast judgement," you said.

You could see the kindness and empathy in her eyes, with no resentment present. "It wasn't his time. It won't be for a while," she reassured you.

Hearing those words from her put your heart at ease, as you still had that nagging worry lingering in the back of your mind.

Guided by your emotions yet again, you were unable to resist the impulse and surprised the Endless in front of you with a shy and hesitant embrace. But as soon as your hands pressed against her back, you no longer had a single afterthought.

Death's scent was distinct from Dream's but equally pleasant and grounding. Her hair and skin emanated a mix of jasmine flowers, smoldering swathes of woody incense, pink lotus, and saffron. She surrounded you with her enigmatic veil of mystery, but at the same time, her sweet and caring nature was warm and fulfilling.

The woman hummed in appreciation against your hair, combing through it as a caring older sister would.

"Am I signing my death sentence with this?" You asked her.

She laughed heartily at your question. "It doesn't work that way. And this actually feels nice.”

She didn't even attempt to extricate herself from your arms. She allowed you to keep her close, as if she required that form of affection more than you did.

You reckoned that Dream's role was tremendously difficult, being entrusted with preserving the delicate balance between humanity and his realm. Death's job was undoubtedly arduous too, guiding human souls to what Morpheus called The Sunless Lands. What would have occured if she was imprisoned instead? What would a world without people able to die be like?

There was something in the way she stroked your hair and rubbed your back. Everyone assumed that the Grim Reaper was a merciless being, marching through existense with a fearsome scythe and a black shroud covering its head. They didn’t know how elegant, uplifting, affectionate and empathetic the real entity was.

When you let go of her, the expression on her face was gracious and accomplished. As the pair of you resumed your stroll under the trees, Death draped her arm around your shoulder like an old friend.

You were uncertain whether she wanted to meet the woman who showed great interest in her brother or merely intended to confirm that you were trustworthy. Regardless of her reasoning, you discerned that your unexpected encounter with her was having a beneficial effect on you, despite its rough beginning.

You continued walking side by side as if it were the most normal thing in the world, until a sudden scream made you both freeze in your tracks. It reverberated throughout the park like a strangled cry, gathering a multitude of people in the vicinity. A girl was calling out a name, pleading and choking in desperation.

Death's face became somber as she looked at the scene. She assessed it in silence, but somehow, she didn't require any explanation for what was going on.

"I have to go. I can't miss this one.”

The wind gusted once more, enveloping you in a rotation of leaves that rose from the ground. She turned towards you for the last time, and with a tender caress of your elbow that was equally affectionate and apologetic, she bid you farewell.

"I'm glad I could meet you, Y/N."

You remained still, nodding, and feeling your heart pump more forcefully. "I’m glad too. Can you tell me your name?"

In spite of anticipating denial of your request, she sent off another smile and moved backward a few paces without taking her eyes off you. “You can call me Teleute, it you desire.”

Teleute. The name which had been used to portray Grandmother Death in the ancient Greek culture. Everything made sense in the framework of history and mythology.

She turned on her heels, walking away with her hands in her pockets. Within a brief moment of diversion to pay attention to the crowd that continued to increase in size, you completely lost sight of Teleute. She had disappeared in the blink of an eye, as if she was never there. Ethereal like the swiftest of avians, the most graceful angel.

You were spurred by a combination of curiosity and uneasiness to move forward. The girl was still crying and calling out for someone who was lying motionless in her lap. As you approached, you worked through the crowd of people who were standing there in shock. You spotted an unmoving man with his eyes half-open, his body stiff like a lifeless dummy, and his complexion gradually becoming ash-grey. His partner shook him repeatedly, searching for a vital sign.

"Robert! Please wake up, please!”

The pain in her tone was excruciating. causing your stomach to tighten and shudder with each utterance of the man’s name. A friend was trying to take her away, pulling her by the arms in a futile attempt to let her leave the body behind.

The man she loved was gone forever.

“No, no! He can’t! We were supposed to get married next week!”

“Linda, please… get away from him, there’s nothing you can do...”

“No!!!”

The ambulance arrived with a loud siren, and three paramedics ran to the body with a stretcher and defibrillator ready in their hands. You heard the sound of fluttering wings at your side, but when you pivoted to look at the origin, nothing was there. All you could see was the group of onlookers surrounding the pair and the expanse of green behind them.

The defibrillator wasn't working. The man's chest lifted and expanded with each electric impulse, but you didn't need to stay to see the outcome because you already knew it; Death had just taken him and he couldn’t come back.

Fighting to overcome the lump caught in your throat, you left the crowd and walked as far away as you could from that tragedy. Watery drops emerged at the corners of your eyes and dripped down, one hand pressed against your mouth to contain the sobs that erupted within you.

Two days later, you had agreed to spend some time with Hob, sharing the occurences that took place in your lives while working on your separate undertakings. The sun’s rays were shining gloriously in the azure sky, showering the idyllic views with a gentle beam. You could feel the breeze tousling your hair as you made your way to the modern tavern, the overgrown grass tickling the skin of your legs. The summer dress and half-sleeved viscose shirt that you selected for the occasion were soft and comfortable on you.

Upon entering the New Inn, your eyes quickly searched for Hob's usual spot. You saw your friend already seated at the table, clad in a stylish brown jacket over a white t-shirt. After greeting the enthusiastic waitress, you walked over to join him.

As you made your way past the other customers, you didn't initially notice that Hob wasn't alone. Someone was sitting across from him, and they appeared to be having an engaging conversation that caused him to display a genuine smile. Seeing Hob in such a relaxed and carefree state was a rare sight; he was frequently on edge, eager to reconcile with that old friend of his.

You immediatly wondered if the individual in front of Hob was actually him.

The man was wearing a knee-length black coat better suited for winter, and had dark hair that looked eerily familiar even from behind. The similarity was so striking that you decelerated as you moved closer to the table with your heart racing faster, incapable of making a sound and announce your arrival.

You could recognize those short, adorable, untended strands anywhere. You tried to get a better look at his face, but he remained turned away from you until you reached a distance that allowed you to be spotted.

Seeing you, Hob's expression immediately brightened. "Y/N!" he exclaimed. "Do you remember that old friend I've been telling you about? Let me introduce him to you.”

Hearing your name, the other man instantly swivelled towards you, meeting your gaze with his beautiful blue eyes. A flood of feelings engulfed you and it couldn’t be kept at bay as you looked at Morpheus’ features, struck by his exceptional appearence. He radiated an aura that could have made anyone fall to their knees in admiration.

Your face flared red with the notion that you had looked at him for too long. "It's you," you said, your tone coming off as more relieved than you intended.

Hearing your words, Hob looked back and forth between the two of you in disbelief. "Wait, do you two know each other?”

You finally diverted your attention back to your friend, giving him an affermative nod. "We do, actually."

"Bloody hell, what a small world!"

When the calmness returned to you, a strong epiphany surfaced. Morpheus was imprisoned in 1916, and according to Hob, they eventually experienced an abrupt separation, whereupon the Endless didn’t show up to their designated meetings any longer. This meant that Hob was substantially older than he had previously claimed, owing to the fact that Morpheus remained locked in that cage for more than a hundred years.

How many more astonishing truths were you about to discover? Hob had several explainations to give, but you decided to leave them for another time if you wished to keep the atmosphere untouched.

You weren't the only one making discoveries that day. Hob didn’t fail to perceive the way you looked at Morpheus, and he smugly raised an eyebrow with a devilish grin that held a lot of secret promises for later.

Afterward, Hob gestured for you to join them, pointing at an empty chair nearby.

While you were strongly enticed to snuggle with Morpheus, you chose to give them some required space to have a heart-to-heart talk on their own without your interference.

A little disappointed, but still compassionate and pleased for their reconciliation, you kindly declined his invitation with a smile. "It's all right, you two must have a lot to talk about. I’ll just sit over there and work."

You gestured towards an empty table next to the window, but Hob's expression quickly changed to one of guilt for the unforeseen change of plans.

"Are you sure? I invited you out, it's not fair to make you sit on your own, is it," he said, looking at you with concern.

You gave yet another nod. "Positive."

You looked at Moprheus who didn’t utter a single sentence, but you detected his subtle smile while he gazed at you from his seat. You gave his shoulder a light squeeze as a demonstration of affection, though maintaining secrecy. Your fingertips gently glided along his sleeve as you stepped back.

You got settled in, requested a cup of tea and retrieved your tools to initiate your work alone. Your attendance was not necessary during that time as Hob and Morpheus had a lot of things to catch up on. However, being close to the one you adored and had been waiting for, yet remaining temporarily out of reach, made it challenging for you to keep your focus.

You inhaled deeply, plugged in your laptop and let your hand drift unrestricted across the pages of your sketchbook.

A few minutes later, you were completely immersed in your own realm of creativity.

"I saw that," Hob spoke, his countenance exuding approval as he regarded Morpheus.

The Endless decided to feign ignorance. "What did you see?" he asked.

"The glim in your eyes. The way you looked at her says it all, my friend. You like her!"

Morpheus became rigid, reclining back in his seat and directing his eyes downward, maintaining silence.

"Who would have thought that after all this time I've known you, I would finally see you in love?"

In the past, Dream of The Endless would have denied Hob's assertion with unruffled temper yet seething rage, storming out of the inn to digest his private humiliation. This time, Morpheus involuntarily shifted his gaze towards you, silently admitting to the truth. The radiance of the sun illuminated your profile, and he couldn't refrain from taking note of it due to its ethereal appearance.

Hob's smile was kind. "She's a great woman, you know. Seriously, the most incredible human being I have encountered in this century. She works tirelessly to achieve her goals, and she's both intelligent and compassionate. You won't easily find someone like her in the next era.”

Although he was still in the process of comprehending your nature, to Morpheus, that wasn't difficult to believe

"Don't break her heart," Hob suddenly warned, catching him off guard and immediately drawing his attention back to his serious face.

"I know you're not a bad guy, and surely you don't need me to tell you what to do. But I care about that girl over there like family, and she's been through enough hardship to deal with more complications.”

While Morpheus was aware that Hob could decipher him with ease, he continued to keep the same calm demeanor in order to conceal his sentiments. He was not inclined to let them be made obvious or to exhibit his softer side, even to his friend.

Hob’s voice was filled with determination. "I would go to hell and back just to ensure she can be happy."

With a minor lift of his eyebrow and the edge of his lips, Morpheus replied, "That is quite admirable.”

Hob took another sip of his beer, his shoulders raising and lowering in a quick shrug. "Judging by what she told me about this 'mysterious guy she's been seeing lately,' it's clear that she really cares about you. Honestly, I believe I've never seen her care so much about any other lad before. They were all a bunch of idiots, but still.”

His eyes remained nonchalant and blank, but the usual slight bob of Morpheus's Adam’s apple definitely gave his feelings away. "So she did talk about me, then?" he asked, sounding flat but curious.

"Aye, but she was very reserved about it. I didn't get any clue that it was you, of all people, " Hob straightened from the comfortable wall sofa and directed his look towards you. He showed a smile of great pride at the sight of your hand gliding effortlessly across the page of your sketchbook without a single interruption.

Morpheus felt the urge to watch you from a distance, examining your actions and admiring the absolutely adorable way with which you seemed to bite your lower lip while tracing your pencil along the page.

The Endless was eagerly looking forward to meeting you in your dreams that night, yearning for the occasion after his extended absence to fully restore his kingdom. Morpheus wasn't expecting to meet you in the Waking World before the scheduled time, let alone find out that you and his old friend would share a special bond as well.

Eventually, the conversation with Hob took a different turn, yet Morpheus found his mind constantly drifting back to you.

You lost track of time again as you drew. It could have been an hour - maybe even two.

You observed that Morpheus was still deep in conversation with your best friend, seemingly frozen in the same position as when you first spotted him. Despite his composed and dignified demeanor, his discomfort around humans was evident from the way he watched people warily out of the corner of his eye and stiffened his shoulders when others came too close.

It was understandable, given that those who were supposed to admire him had instead ensnared him and exploited his possessions.

You closed your sketchbook and began scrolling through your emails, deleting any messages that didn't seem important without even opening them. Doing so, you almost missed an email from the CEO of a company you had reached out to in hopes of finding a job. Despite them not currently accepting new applicants, the man took the time to send you a polite response, wishing you good fortune for the future. Though it wasn't exactly what you were hoping to see, the kind and encouraging words still managed to brighten your mood.

Hob rose from the couch, stretching his neck before turning to say a few last words to Morpheus. As he approached you, a beaming smile lit up his face, though he was clearly remorseful about not being able to spend more time with you. Nevertheless, he seemed content and at ease, a state you hadn't seen him in for some time. With everything now resolved between him and his friend, the last thing you wanted was for him to apologize for something that you didn’t perceive as a lack of attention at all.

You knew there was a long conversation and explanation waiting for the two of you, but for the moment, you simply watched as he strode out of the pub and vanished into the trees beyond. You couldn't help but wonder which century he had originally come from, but given his extensive knowledge of history, it was impossible to pinpoint his specific era of birth.

Reflecting on it, you were feeling a bit daunted by the sheer number of changes and developments he had witnessed in the world, as well as deeply saddened by the loved ones he had lost and left behind. It now made sense why he had always been reticent to discuss his family history, clearly it was a delicate topic for him.

You shut down your laptop and put away your belongings. When you looked up, you noticed that Morpheus was silently and intently watching you, his hands tucked into the pockets of his coat. When he came closer to your table, you realized that his attire was reminiscent of what he wore in the Dreaming - all black and enigmatic - but tailored to fit the style of the Waking World. The fabric was structured and gave him a modern look, while still retaining his signature mysterious edge.

“Hello.”

His low voice was like a vibration, a resonant melody deliciously flowing through your bloodstream. When you stood up and got inches away from his face, you had to keep yourself grounded and resist the urge to kiss him on the lips in front of the other customers (and the waitress, who was already glancing at you with piqued curiosity).

The immediate attraction was undeniable, stirring something in you that was definitely not appropriate for public display.

Hey you," you replied with a smile. "It's good to see you." "I've missed you," you were tempted to say, but the words caught in your throat and you couldn't bring yourself to say them.

"Are you busy at the moment? Do you need to leave?”

He shook his head almost imperceptibly. "I can stay, for now," he replied.

Your heart fluttered with excitement, producing a series of backflips in your chest. "Would you like to take a walk with me then?” You asked, trying to sound casual.

Your request may have been simple, but it seemed to work in your favor.

"With pleasure.”

The sensation you felt was spine-chilling, causing your skin to prickle and making your hair stand on end. The genuine and happy smile that you gave him caused the corners of your mouth to pull up painfully, but you allowed your emotions to show without restraint. Walking on air, you paid for your tea and bounced out of the inn.

You sensed Morpheus following silently behind you, his cryptic expression giving him an air of caution. He stood tall and firm, his eyes narrowing occasionally as he observed his surroundings. The warmth of the sun and the gentle breeze enveloped you, while the distant sound of car horns and the chatter of passersby filled the air.

As you stepped away from the entrance to let a few more people inside, his hand lightly brushed against your upper back for support. The contact left a tingling sensation across your covered skin the moment he withdrew it. Clearing your throat, you tried to shift your focus to a new topic, hoping to distract yourself from how much you longed for more of his touch.

Thankfully, you had just the right thing to break the tension. "So, Hob Gadling? I had no idea that you were the old friend he was waiting for,” you remarked.

Morpheus looked at you, raising an eyebrow. “Nor did I know that the two of you were close.”

"He's like a brother to me, really," you explained. "But I never would have guessed that he was, like, super bicentenarian or something.”

"We first met in 1389," Morpheus revealed.

And so you stopped in your tracks, unable to wrap your head around what he just told you. "Wait what? You're kidding, right?"

"I assure you, I am not.”

Your mind boggle at the thought. "But that was over 600 years ago!"

Morpheus seemed amused by your astonishment. "You look quite shocked,” he observed.

"I'm practically a baby compared to him," you admitted. "I can't even imagine what it would be like to live for so long.”

Morpheus studied you thoughtfully as you walked together, considering what he was allowed to reveal. "I must admit, Hob Gadling has proven to be remarkably persistent.”

“Persistent? You mean he actually had a choice?”

Morpheus nodded. “He did. And, he still does.”

When you turned the corner of the street, Morpheus slowed his already leisurely pace and glanced at the building to your right. It was a large complex that had been standing for centuries, refurbished into a more modern-looking bar around 1989. Throughout all the changes it went through, its original name, White Horse, and location remained perfectly intact.

The tavern had been visited by many notable figures, including William Shakespeare himself. It was one of those timeless landmarks steeped in history and wonder that had been passed down through the generations until it was eventually sold. Now, it looked more like a disquieting construction site, with all the windows covered in scribbles and the old, decaying roof under repair for an indefinite amount of time.

According to Hob, the New Inn had been founded as a replacement for those who had fought to keep the old tavern running.

"It all started here," Morpheus said.

You looked at the dilapidated structure, trying to imagine what it may have looked like in medieval times, but found it difficult to picture Hob in anything other than his usual fashionable attire (or Dream with a different hairstyle).

"How?" you asked curiously.

"I was intrigued by his...experience," Morpheus replied. "I wanted to know how long a mortal creature could crave such a long life, convinced that he would beg for death within a century.”

You were captivated, a grin spreading across your face. "And?”

"Even after 300 years, when I found him in misery and starving for food, he still claimed to have much to live for."

You burst into a loud, genuine, joyful laugh that echoed throughout the area. Holding onto his coat, you doubled over, unable to contain your exuberant reaction. Your belly was hurting and you could barely breathe as your laughter didn't cease.

"What?" He asked you, furrowing his brows in confusion.

As you tried to recover from your guffaw, you literally convulsed with tears forming at the corner of your eyes. When you finally calmed down, you pressed your forehead against his chest, subconsciously clinging to him.

"I'm sorry, I couldn't help it," you said, wiping a tear from your eye. "That just sounds like him. It's hilarious!”

You continued to shake like a bowlful of jelly, breathing in and out a few times to regain your composure.

"If you find it amusing, you shall ask him to share more of his adventurous tales with you,” he suggested.

You let out a contented sigh. "I think I will.”

Your eyes met again, and the intensity of his gaze immediately captured your attention. Despite his outward stoicism, his expression seemed more relaxed than it had been at the inn. The mischievous, subtle smile you were becoming accustomed to only confirmed that he was enjoying your spontaneous hilarity.

You looked down at the metallic barricades, where someone had sprayed the words "The New Inn" in red with a long arrow pointing in its direction.

“Hob did it, didn’t he? For you. So that you could find him,” you concluded.

“He did.”

Despite the fact that 133 years had passed since that renowned argument, their connection had survived unscathed, filling you with a sense of comfort and warmth.

"I don't know what your fight was about, but he's been remorseful about it for a long time.”

Morpheus continued to pierce you with his stare, pouting slightly at the recalled memory.

"He cares deeply for you,” you added.

His gaze returned to the building, and his eyes narrowed with an inscrutable, impassive look. He didn't respond right away, simply staring off ahead as a few seconds went by.

"He is a good man, despite what he may or may not say. One who speaks very highly of you."

You were stupefied, tilting your head quizzically. “You… talked about me…? After more than a century apart?”

"I suppose you had a certain influence on him," He answered cryptically.

You offered Morpheus a kind smile. "I doubt that I had any influence on him. You, however, have undoubtedly made him a better person, according to his own words.”

Their friendship had begun as a challenge - a game, if you may - devised to test Hob's endurance as an immortal among humans. A mere curiosity that gradually deepened into something more meaningful. Over time, Morpheus came to regard Hob not just as a subject of study, but as a true friend that he valued despite his usual aloofness.

You found yourself adjusting the collar of his coat, feeling the stout, yet very yielding and plush fabric against your fingers. Once satisfied, you gave the front of his shoulders a gentle pat and wrapped your arm around his, holding him loosely but tenderly.

Morpheus was unruffled, but his unwavering gaze on you made you feel somewhat self-conscious. At one point, he even seemed to anticipate something as he moved his eyes downward until they rested on your lips momentarily.

Although you were in close proximity and a small push from you would have been enough, you decided to respect his reservedness when people started passing by on the street. Therefore, you resumed your trek, leaving the antique tavern behind and reaching the park in the distance.

A great number of individuals of diverse ages were appreciating the weather that day. Elders were stationed on the benches with their eyes shut, couples relaxing on a large sheet for their impromptu picnic, adolescents engaging in football on the grass and children running about in circles.

“Do you see these people? Have you ever appeared in their dreams or interacted with them?” You inquired.

“I do not always interact with dreamers. When they rest, my realm mirrors their waking lives, their wishes or their fears. Only when they seek guidance or require advice, I might grant them my aid,” Morpheus said.

And there you were, walking alongside the King of Dreams, whether it be in the Waking World or the land of dreams. Maybe you did possess a unique consideration from him, after all.

You looked at all the carefree activities in the vastness of the park. "It's strange. I never thought about it, but I now realize that what you Endless do is essential for this world. It seems like nobody is aware of that, or if they are, they don't show you the gratitude that you deserve.”

Morpheus halted along the way, fixating on your eyes anew. When you turned in his direction, your countenance was overflowing with sadness and compassion. "Every person we see right now has a dream that propels them through life. They receive inspiration, ideas, and realizations from you, but they don’t even know that the source of it all is standing right here in front of them.”

“Humans forget in waking hours,” he noted. “It is not my purpose to make them remember me.”

You disagreed, shaking your head. "Even so, this world wouldn't even function without you and the rest of your family. It's incredible how nobody acknowledges what's truly happening behind the scenes.”

Morpheus appeared to give your statement a moment of contemplation. “I am the personification of ideas and concepts that are tied to life. I do not wish for mortals to acknowledge me.”

You pondered his utterances, and the only thing you were capable of doing was to accept his reasoning. You smiled, caressing his chin with the pad of your thumb and forefinger. "Then I hope you at least accept my praise, Dream of the Endless.”

As you pulled back, Morpheus tracked your hand’s movement to understand your actions. He portrayed a grin with a certain trace of self-satisfaction on his face. “Very well.”

You examined him with utter amazement, feeling as if you were standing before a lifelong hero. In a sense, that was indeed the truth.

A group of teenagers assembled in the vicinity, talking and chortling noisily as they advanced. When a young girl walked past Morpheus, you quickly noticed his awkwardness and out-of-placeness amidst such a jolly atmosphere. The girl promptly retreated when she noticed his darkened face, dragging her friend along and whispering to her in concern. Observing her troubled response, Morpheus turned away and stared at the ground.

You proceeded to move forward, slowly bringing your lips to his cheek and delivering a brief, tender, and affectionate peck on it. He exhibited a look of surprise and confusion the moment you broke the kiss, but you maintained your sweet smile in his direction.

“Look,” you gestured, turning your head slightly to check on the two girls.

As if by magic, the pair of youngsters were now grinning at the two of you, giggling with delight and hurrying along with the rest of the bunch. They went from terrified to appreciative in an instant, relishing your sudden display of affection and forgetting the momentary tension they felt.

You clasped his hand and tugged upon it. "It’s interesting how easily our perception can change, isn’t it?”

And thus, Morpheus understood that you had done it exclusively for his sake, in order for him to cease feeling like he would not fit in, like no matter what he did, the humans would consistently be alarmed by his presence.

You felt a sense of contentment and fulfillment, repositioning yourself at his side and walking forward with your hand firmly clasped in his grip, which Morpheus didn’t object to. He permitted you to retain your fingers around his, accompanying you to whichever place you wanted to go.

On the path leading to your apartment building, you disclosed about your interaction with Teleute. You presumed that he was aware of it, but it turned out that his sister had not informed him about that matter in any way. Fortunately, Morpheus didn’t express any sign of dissatisfaction or annoyance in relation to that revelation. Since he had lived close to his family for a span of billions of years, he obviously knew Death well enough to understand her inclinations and motivations.

You definitely had nothing to hide, and he listened to you extolling her mildness and empathetic gestures.

It became obvious to you that she was the one he cherished the most amongst his other siblings. It seemed like they held a particularly strong bond that, regardless of the unfavorable occurences resulting from Roderick Burgess, caused them to continue believing in one another’s loyalty.

Nevertheless, Morpheus was still reluctant to reveal any significant information about his family, so you decided to stop pressing upon the topic and continued walking along the sidewalk.

Eventually, you arrived at your building with an immense sadness growing inside you, knowing that you had to part ways with Morpheus. Your fingers slowly unfastened from his hand, and a chasm formed in the pit of your stomach.

You smiled at him, trying to conceal your increasing disappointment. He didn’t speak, continuing to cast his sharp gaze upon you. He put his hands back into his pockets and awaited for you to say anything.

As you thought to yourself, "Don't go" and "Please stay with me", you desperately wished to spend more time in his company. But given your past mistakes that led your previous partners to consider you overly clingy, you ultimately let those sentiments go.

“Thank you for indulging me,” you said. “I hope I didn’t keep you from your responsibilies for too long.”

“No,” he replied, his voce low and deep. “I owed you as much.”

You frowned. “You don’t owe me anything, Morpheus.”

He attempted to reply, opening his mouth, but quickly closed it, unable to vocalize whatever thought he wanted to share.

When he remained silent, you adjusted the bag on your shoulder and firmly wrapped your hand around the strap. Your mind was in chaos, torn between your emotions and reason, leaving you uncertain about what action to take next. A single kiss couldn’t be the end the world, and it’s not like you’d never done it before. You continued to persuade yourself that it wouldn't be harmful in any conceivable way, but the more you tried to convince yourself, the less you wanted to take the risk.

And so, you permitted yourself to only touch his elbow, giving it a light squeeze. "See you in my dreams?" you asked him.

Morpheus assented with his head. "I will see you in the Dreaming."

You stepped back, turning on your heels and retrieving the keys from your bag. As you flipped open the lock of the main entrance, you glanced back to where he had been standing, but in the blink of an eye, he had vanished, nowhere to be seen in the alleyway before you.

As you made your way from the lobby to the elevator and your dwelling, you scolded yourself repeatedly for missing the opportunity and allowing your past to hinder you once again, despite having declared that it was long gone. You were not supposed to feel afraid of sharing a kiss with the one you loved, especially after spending a night together engaging in deep and passionate lovemaking. In the Dreaming, he was the one who initiated the contact, capturing your lips in that sweet, electrifying kiss that you didn't openly ask for.

Things were different for him in the Waking World, however, whether it was due to the traumatic ordeal he endured or because it was a place in which he felt like he didn’t belong. Morpheus was not a human being; rather, he was an entity of extraordinary might and prominence. Was it really feasible to be yourself beside him without holding back your feelings?

As you shut the door, a heartbroken sigh slipped out of you. You tossed the keys on the tabletop, let your bag slide to the couch, kicked off your high heeled sandals, and stripped off your shirt, only remaining with your sleeveless dress on.

You almost made it to your bedroom in a nervous stride, but suddenly halted. Your mouth fell open, and your eyes widened as soon as you noticed Morpheus standing in the parlor area, watching you with a pair of eager and yearning eyes.

In that fleeting moment, your determination to subdue your fondness for him disintegrated from your consciousness. That glimpse in his eyes was irrefutable; he desired you as ardently as you needed to feel him against you.

No words or spoken affirmations were necessary. He kept looking at you with his hands tucked away in the pockets of his coat, barely blinking as he stood still, waiting for your move with anticipation.

That was the indicator you were looking for. Throwing away all your reservations, you dashed towards him without thinking it over, seizing his face with your hands. You pressed your lips onto his and kissed him, feasting on the taste of his mouth with an intensity that surprised even you. It felt like the only thing that mattered, as if you needed those lips to breathe.

Morpheus instantly moved his hands out of his jacket and took hold of your midriff, pushing his palms against the small of your back as he kissed you with equal passion. His tongue shot forward and encountered yours whilst you lifted your feet to deepen the kiss, wrapping your arms around his shoulders.

You pulled away to catch your breath, panting and quivering, but still clinging to him tightly. “You came back,” you whispered.

“I never left.”

You chuckled in delight, once more locking your lips with his.

“You did not ask me to stay,” he noted. “Why? Is it not what you wished?”

Of course he would notice.

Your lower lip sank under the light pressure of your teeth. “It is. I just… I didn’t know how to ask.”

He smiled. “Have no fear, my love. I will not leave your wishes unattended.”

My love…?

Those words caused your heart to leap in your chest, as it was a lovely way of addressing you that nobody had ever used before.

"I don't want you to fulfill my needs at the expense of your own, though,” you stated.

“Do you truly believe that I do not want this just as much?”

“Well no, but-”

“Then allow me to prove it to you.”

You became soft and pliable in his embrace as he kissed you again, enveloping you in a hazy and semi-bewitched state with his delicious fragrance.

Unlike the cologne that your previous partners favored, his scent was a subtle aroma that didn't fill your lungs to the brim, but was just enough to make you feel like you were surrounded by a welcoming oasis.

As you continued your make-out session, you gradually pushed him towards your bedroom. Morpheus silently followed your lead, kissing your neck and moving to your collarbones. Once you arrived at the bed, you sat down in front of him, causing the edge of your dress to slide up and reveal a peek of your thighs. It didn't take long for him to climb onto the mattress and press against you, positioning himself between your legs. His cold fingertips caressed the line of your leg, starting from the area around the knee and ending at the upper region of your thigh. It wriggled under the cotton material of the skirt to hoist it higher, gripping your skin and making you jolt.

Normally, you would take your time, letting your sensations grow with his touches, kisses, and pleasurable foreplay. But this time, your desire for him was so strong that you couldn't wait any longer. You immediately brought your hands to the button of his pants, eager to get to the point.

But before you could undo it, Morpheus caught your wrist and pulled both of your hands up beside your head. His grip was firm as he held you down on the mattress. Your faces were very close, and you could feel his breath tickling your mouth as he gazed down at you with a fiery look.

You made a small effort to keep your breathing in control.

“What is it that you want?” He uttered softly, his tongue just barely touching your lips. “Speak clearly, and I shall satisfy your needs.”

Your heart pounded rapidly, and your mind grew clouded with a steadily escalating craving.

“Morpheus… please….I beg of you…” you entreated with a quavering voice, your request filled with an air of desperation and longing.

“No.”

“I-”

“You must say it out loud.”

You let out a small mewl when you felt his hips push forward, the hardness in his pants already evident and wanting.

"Morpheus…" you pleaded.

"Say it," he demanded.

“You!”

“Oh?”

You gasped hard, your chest rising and falling rapidly beneath him as he held you in place, pressing himself against your body.

“I want you. I need you, please.”

A faint smirk appeared at the corners of his lips, conveying a small amount of triumph. “You need me? How?”

What a mischievous, teasing, and absolutely gorgeous creature.

‘Two can play at this game’.

You smiled, raising one of your legs and looping it around his waist. You pulled him even closer against your core, much like a python coiling around its prey.

You were pleased to hear the low, throaty groan that escaped him.

"Do you seriously need me to spell it out?" you teased. “You know what I want, Dream Lord.”

His sister had described him as the most prideful member of their family. According to Teleute, he was so proud that he wouldn't have even accepted her help if she had offered it at the right time. And yet, your challenging attitude was clearly amusing him to a noticeable extent.

"I will give you that, and more," he promised, his voice filled with lust and eagerness.

He removed his hands from your wrists, trailing them along your arms and closing around your breasts. Even through the fabric of your bra and dress, you could feel the way he squeezed them, causing your back to arch.

It was so little and yet too much, your inner walls clenching irrepressibly. You couldn't stop looking at the clear protuberance in his trousers, urging you to be set free. So you tried again, rapidly reaching for the button to unfasten and the zipper to pull down. A moment later, he was grasping your buttocks from under the dress and angling you exactly how he wanted, pulling his erection out and hooking his index finger under your panties. Slowly, as if he was unwrapping the most awaited gift of time, he moved your damp undergarment aside and revealed your glistening entrance. He swallowed hard at the sight.

He pushed himself inside of you in one swift motion. The entry was rough, but he managed to slide in without any resistance, making you gasp and moan as his tip hit the perfect spot inside you. You wrapped your limbs around him as he delivered strong thrusts with his impetuous pelvis, moving in and out and increasing his tempo. He fixated his hungry eyes on your face, driven by his growing need to make you come undone.

Even though the both of you were practically fully clothed, you found the scene absurdly arousing. That coat looked absolutely wonderful on him, and you loved the way his shirt rubbed against your clit, creating the perfect friction you needed to let loose. Morpheus emitted deep, rich grunts as your walls tightly enveloped his length, providing a heightened sensation of suction and pressure. Your room was filled with the sounds of sex, as skin met skin and your bodies moved together.

Just like the first time, you latched onto the back of his hair with your hands, grasping a sizeable portion of his strands without pulling, but maintaining a stable position. You continued to whine and sigh, matching his rhythm and responding to the kisses he delivered.

"The sounds you make are marvelous," he expressed, a small grin emerging at the corners of his lips.

“What can I say?” you replied with labored breaths, still reeling from the impact of the intimate and heated encounter. “You are just that good.”

With so many centuries of experience, he must have had countless lovers in the past. This made you feel a bit envious and possessive.

Morpheus was relentless, sliding in and out of you with incredible stamina. You could feel your orgasm approaching, ready to ignite a powerful firework. As he felt you tightening around him, he slowed his pace. His fingers left your thigh and moved directly to your clit, brushing it with gentle and light strokes.

You gasped at the pleasure it caused, throwing your head back as he continued to circle the small tip with his index and middle fingers. He wasn't even applying that much pressure, but the sweet stimulation combined with his girth meeting your G-spot was absolute heaven, even if it was torturous.

You were so close now. A part of you wanted the experience to carry on for hours, but the urge to feel that exquisite sensation was becoming impossible to control and withstand.

"Please, harder," you muttered.

Morpheus complied with your request, delivering precisely what you were asking him to provide. His hips pushed forward, then almost fully out, and in again to the base. As you adjusted to his thrusts, you felt your muscles tensing from the effort involved, but you didn't plan to stop. You consistently met him halfway, tightly gripping his hair with one hand and his back with the other.

His fingers maintained their position on your clit, pinching and massaging it deliciously. Your moans grew louder, and you chanted his name like a prayer.

You came with a convulsing jerk of your hips, pulsing around him as his erratic movements urged him to reach completion and follow you to your high. Your orgasm was earth-shattering, draining you all of your strenght as it coursed throughout your entire body like a massive explosion. Your legs were trembling and tingling, while your chest and cheeks turned into a scarlet and blazing mess from the waves of heat.

It only took a couple more thrusts for him to reach his peak, groaning and stiffening as he released his essence into your depths.

It was hot, grounding, and fulfilling. It was something significant that went beyond the mere physical satisfaction. To you, it was a way to fortify the connection you had established with Morpheus, the outcome of the deep affection that was continuously expanding inside your being.

You took shallow and short breaths, taking a moment to appreciate his expression above you through your hazy state. He was throughly satisfied, gently pressing his lips against yours to prolong the moment of bliss.

As your nails scratched the back of his head, gently intertwining with his short strands, you let out a contented sigh. Your legs weakened at his sides as he pulled out, and your underwear snapped back into place.

“I must return to the Dreaming,” he voiced softly, barely above a whisper.

You signaled your acknowledgment with a slight nod of your head. “Sorry for keeping you here.”

“I was not kept here, my love. I chose to stay,” he clarified, carrying an affectionate tone towards you and an air of assurance.

You genuinely beamed, grasping his head with your hands once more and delivering a quick yet vehement peck on his mouth.

"Thank you for staying, then. And for healing my scars. Oh, and for the shell too,” you told him, emphasizing your words with a look of gentleness and gratitude.

Morpheus’ expression depicted complacency. “The Dreaming will always be there to welcome you, just as I will.”

You breathed out in a relaxed fashion. “Why are you so good to me?”

“Why should I not?”

When you attempted to steer clear from falling too deep into your usual overthinking, your smile slowly started to diminish.

“For a number of reasons,” you stated, the self-depreciating words falling out of your lips with an air of bitterness and pessimism. “Maybe one day you’ll get tired of me and leave me. I’m not deserving of having you in my life.”

In an instant, his face also changed, brows knitting together as he looked down at you. “Y/N, what-”

"Don’t mind me," you interjected. "My emotions tend to get all over the place. I didn't mean to ruin the mood.”

“You did not.”

You felt uncertain concerning the underlying cause for your sudden outburst. Perhaps it was the fear of not being enough for any committed kind of relationship. Or maybe you were scared of the notion of seeing your happiness destroyed again, despite your intuition telling you to proceed forth without hesitation.

Unlike before.

A faint chuckle escaped your throat as you tilted your head upward and kissed him one more time, maintaining an innocent and reserved touch. Your eyes were gleaming with a mixture of sorrow and joy, but you refused to be overtaken by your negative thoughts.

With a playful tap, you pushed his chest lightly. "You should go now, or I won't be able to keep my hands off of you.”

Morpheus grasped your arm and hauled you up with him, moving both of you away from the mattress and bringing you close.

The moment you stood on your feet, you could feel a few drops of his essence dripping down between your legs.

"That does sound quite tempting," he said. "But I cannot stay longer.”

“It’s all right,” you vocalized, a touch of sweetness creeping up in your voice. “See you soon?”

“Yes.”

He sealed that promise by applying a delicate and loving peck to your forehead. His hand slid off of yours and brushed against your skin, lingering on your fingertips before drawing away. You stepped back slightly, watching him carefully as he retrieved the pouch of sand from his coat. You waited patiently, your eyes fixed on his every move.

“Please say hi to Matthew for me.”

He nodded to your words, the golden powder immediatly encasing him, embracing and providing him the much needed comfort and warmth that he was accustomed to.

You stared at the sand slowly fading away, vanishing from your sight and leaving only some particles that sparkled around the room.

The sun had set below the horizon, and night had fallen over London. Ella Corbyn tapped her fingernails in an anxious manner on the top of her desk as she re-read the message on her phone, her eyes staring at the screen as she tried to process the unwelcome development.

She walked through the halls of her workplace, passing by the empty offices and stopping in front of the CEO's door. She knocked softly and entered, greeting her husband with a tired expression and a sense of exhaustion.

Oliver Corbyn remained at his workstation, taking a quick glance away from his monitor to check on his wife.

“Darling, are you okay?”

Ella sighed deeply, shook her head, and looked at him with concern all over her face. 'We have a problem.”

Oliver took off his spectacles and placed them carefully on the table. He then moved his chair back and said, 'I don't like the sound of that.”

As she considered the best way to reveal such disappointing news, Ella decided to simply reveal the truth as it was.

“It’s about Isaac. He left.”

Oliver reflected on his wife's words, blinking a couple of times. “What do you mean he left? I thought he was sick.”

Ella started scratching the back of her hand and a red patch began to emerge from the rough contact with her nails.

"Yes, well. It turns out that was just an excuse. He actually sent his resignation to my email an hour ago.”

Oliver's face turned ashen, and he quickly leaned against the edge of his desk for support. “And the reason?”

“Apparently, he decided to move abroad and live with his family in the US.”

He cursed under his breath, pinching the bridge of his nose in disbelief and frustration. “I can’t believe this.”

Ella crossed her arms in front of her chest, adopting a firm stance to refrain from scratching her skin even more. 'What do we do now? We are officially without a fashion designer. We need to find a new one, and soon.'”

“I know.”

“The show is in three months. How are we supposed to make it?”

“We’ll figure it out.”

Ella started to walk back and forth around the office, moving her legs in a repetitive motion. "Gosh, I can't stand this! Isaac was so good. Will we ever be able to replace him?”

Oliver was quiet, spacing out and absentmindly scratching his chin.

“Oliver?”

The man’s gaze widened abruptly. The sudden insight that struck upon him appeared to have a significant impact on his overall perspective.

“Hang on, hang on, hang on,” he muttered, lifting his index finger into the air as he expressed a sense of urgency.

Ella looked puzzled. “What?”

Oliver promptly ran back to his computer, rapidly typing some words on the keyboard and clicking around with the mouse. “Look.”

Ella stepped closer to his position, standing beside her spouse and shifting her emerald eyes down to the monitor.

"A few days ago, we received an application from this woman. Her portfolio was quite impressive, but with Isaac on our team, I thought we were covered. So I politely rejected her this morning.”

As Ella observed the numerous illustrations on the display, her eyes settled on the exceptional detail, accuracy and artistry that was put into every single piece, a style that was rather unique and captivating.

No one else was capable of producing such clean and mesmerizing drawings except one particular person.

“What’s her name?”

Oliver closed the PDF document and went back to the email he retrieved from the archive, going to the bottom where your signature was.

“Y/N Y/LN…? My goodness!”

Oliver was taken aback by the transition of his wife’s demeanor, somewhat amused by the way in which she started to jump up and down and laugh out loud.

“Love? Do you know her?”

Ella raised her hands to the top of her head and gazed at the ceiling while breathing out a sigh of relief, her feelings of worry slowly evaporating as a sense of calmness descended over her.

“We were literally best friends in high school!”

Notes:

• I didn't come up with the full description of Death's scent. Full credits to this site.

• In case you're wondering if the Reader will meet the Corinthian again, the answer is yes. All in due time.

• I was planning to add the revelation about Nada and Morpheus' son in this chapter, but in the end, I just couldn't fit those parts in. The Nada segment will definitely be added in the next update though, while I came up with something interesting regarding the truth about Calliope and Orpheus. There will be some drama and angst because of that, but this is all I can say without making spoilers.

• How many times do we sense something, but our brain and/or heart gets in the way? Sometimes we are confused and emotional, to the point we cannot make sense of what we truly feel anymore. I wanted to portray this aspect with Reader's state of mind.

• The timeframe I set at the start of this chapter is most likely inaccurate. I tried to find some proper information about the amount of days or weeks that pass between the end of episode 5 and the beginning of episode 6, but I couldn't find any. If someone knows, please correct me and I will edit the chapter!

• In my mind, even if Death never told her brother that she met the Reader in person, she most likely mentioned something about their relationship. Initially, I wanted to include that in the chapter as well, but I decided to cut it out to reduce the amount of text. Maybe I'll add a bit of it as a written memory.

• Yep, time to add some original characters into the story! :D Ella will play a very important role in Reader's life.

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 (currently reading) Go to Chapter 9 ->

Read on AO3!

#the sandman #the sandman morpheus #dream of the endless #dream of the endless x reader #morpheus x reader #smut #the sandman fanfic #story: let your dreams be your wings

[4am-snackers-askblog]

(Introduction renewed since 16 August 2023. Click here for previous intro!)

Welcome to our askblog! We hope you enjoy your stay here!

[Rules and Info under the cut! Please read before interacting!]

Hello. I’m Dummy. Before we get started, here are some rules you must follow!

-DO NOT INTERACT IF: YOU ARE A PROSHIPPER (PEDOPHILIA, INCEST, ABUSE ETC), TRUSCUM/TRANSMED, LGBT+PHOBIC/EXCLUSIONIST

-No NSFW! We’re a kid friendly game with kid friendly people! Swearing is allowed but please refrain from doing so! Father Figure may make some really awful jokes, but don’t worry, he’ll get what he deserves! =)

-Avoid triggering/offensive topics! Orby is extremely uncomfortable with that sort of stuff, and the others and myself aren’t too well with it either.

-If you have any triggers you’d like Kyu to filter, let us know! She'll be sure to tag your triggers so you won’t have to see them!

-M!A’s(Magic Anons), I’m sorry, but you can’t affect us here!

-This is an ASK blog, we don’t do dares!

-This blog is heavily head-canon based. Apologies if we don’t act the way you want us to.

-Don’t spam the inbox please. Orby’s the one who transfers the asks to us, and they get incredibly anxious with too many at once..

-Please don’t repeat asks! If your original ask hasn’t been responded to, please wait patiently! Repeating your asks will not speed up the response for it!

-Replies/Comments will be ignored sorry! Please interact via inbox!

-Ship asks excluding Kyuby are not allowed, sorry. This includes Cashy.

And now time for some info about us!

[ORIGINAL CAST]

Kyu-Main holder of the blog, She/Her, friendly and very interactive, I do all the technical stuff here! Orby and I are dating!

Orby-Ask Reader, They/It, Quiet And Shy, Semi-Nonverbal, I Like Reading Asks!

Dummy-Co-Holder, Any pronouns, I don’t really do much, I just enjoy everyone’s company here!

Cashier-i don’t really do anything important here. he/they, thanks.

Player is also here! They’re non-verbal, they never speak (they can somehow speak in pictures though :/). They don’t care what pronouns you use for them, and honestly, none of us know about their sexuality, but we don’t ask about it. They’re pretty chill, but please refrain from giving them toothpaste...

We also have Father Figure, who uses He/Him! He does pretty much nothing but cause trouble, refrain from speaking to him if you can. He’s just rude.

[SNACKCORE CAST]

Kyu-She/They. I'm keeping an eye on everyone here, really.

Orby-they/it. i stay close to my kyu here.

Dummy-They/Them. Please do not mind me.

Cashier-he/him. i have nothing better to do.

There's also this rascal Player here too. They're non-verbal, just like the "original" cast's. They use They/It pronouns. Oh yeah, there's our Father Figure too, He/Him, but he's asleep most of the time. He also has a sword for some reason.

And last of all, we have our mod!

🌨 Hello GASA4 community! I go by a lot of different names, but my main names are CCTV or 8-Bit! I run this blog entirely alone so forgive me if hiatuses come around! I do my best to keep this blog running but I haven't been very active in the fandom let alone this ask blog. My main is @peculiar-shardscape​! If you have any questions for me or such, send them over to that blog! I don’t bite! Please enjoy this blog!

Post time is 8:30am once a week! (Time zone is AEST)

#gasa4 #gasa4am #get a snack at 4am #introduction post #i am a cube [kyu] #you players amuse me [kyu snackcore] #my inevitable downfall [orby] #item test [orby snackcore] #the void [dummy] #dialog test [dummy snackcore] #generic convenient store [cashier] #just a cashier [cashier snackcore] #wanna see me speedrun [player] #quick snack [player snackcore] #no [father figure] #get out of my room [father figure snackcore] #also happy 4am to the EST gang bc that's when this post was posted hehe

[cartmankisser]

could i request tolkien, clyde, wendy (and maybe bebe if ur able to) comforting their s/o after they have a nightmare?

(i know you have a lot of requests rn so i hope ur hydrating urself and not overworking urself‼)

okay this is an old request i apologize!! it was hidden at the bottom of my inbox below a spam!! but still thank u for ur nice words

also i tried to add bebe but i really couldn't think of anything im super sorry!!!!

(reblogs > likes!)

i feel like tolkien wouldn't really know what to say. he'd just sorta rush to wrap his arms around you and then? just freeze? it wouldn't be until he felt how hard you were breathing that he would sorta snap out of it and fully wake up

he'd slowly rub his hands down your arms and back while whispering comforting words until you stop shaking and you can like? actually breath,, and then he'd ask if you wanted to talk about it. he understands if you don't want to though, so he doesn't really push you to say anything!

he'll stay up as late as you want him to!! he wouldn't even mention sleeping, he'd just hold you against him until you fall asleep first. he just wants to make sure you feel safe and comfortable before he heads back to sleep

i think like clyde would totally freak out with you, but for a completely different reason,, he's got no fucking clue what he's doing to comfort you?? he'll quickly go from hugging you as tight as possible and planting messy kisses all over your face before running in and out of the room while he tries to get stuff for you

he ends up bringing you an assortment of snacks, ice water, hot chocolate, ibuprofen, extra blankets, one of his sweatshirts for you to wear, and tissues,, yeah it's a bit over whelming but i mean he's trying his best,,,??

after he settles down a bit, he'd be very empathetic towards you. he'll wrap you in one of the 7 extra blankets he brought upstairs and just pull you tightly into him. he'd let you vent and ramble on for hours about your dream until finish your hot cocoa and feel good enough to head back to bed

i feel like out of them all, wendy would react the best? mean it really depends?? if you've brought up to her that you have frequent nightmares, she'd definitely research how to react to them. if you haven't, she'd still have a rough idea about what to do, but she wouldn't be able to identify when you're having a nightmare while you're still asleep or anything like that

i just get the vibe that she's a veryyy light sleeper, so she'd probably wake up before you do, but either way she would be fast to react. she'd ask you if you were okay with her hugging you, and then she'd pull you super close into her. she'd caress your arms and back and do some deep breaths with you until your ready to talk about what happened

the only negative thing that comes with dating wendy is that she is superrr logical about everything. she'd constantly be giving you advice about it,, "well maybe if you didn't watch ___" or even "next time don't so ___ before bed!" or the worst?! "well it's just a dream".

(i'm sorry i luv her a lot but she would absolutely say something like that)

#south park x reader #clyde donovan x reader #token black x reader #tolkien black x reader #wendy testaburger x reader

[constellationcrowned]

((I think I've mostly figured out the whole 'moving things over to this blog' conundrum in a way that won't make me tear my hair out. This is still going to be a long and stressful process---because alexandrite has 9 months of content that I need to move which might not sound like much but it is---and will include both ic and ooc content. If you have interactions going with any of the muses found here this EXPLICITLY APPLIES TO YOU and I need you to read this post in full and contact me to discuss things.

In regards to ooc content (aesthetics, musings, hc's):

Concerning both single character and ship aesthetics and musings I'm starting from the bottom and working my way up (so oldest content when I first started writing these characters up until the making this blog) in order to keep down on having to see the same post twice in a row if you happen to follow both of my blogs. I'm accomplishing this with a combination of just reblogging a handful of (mixed) posts a day on top of setting up a smaller queue for when I'm away, asleep, whatever.

HC's (and in this moment I'm admittedly glad that I don't usually share them,) will be reblogged from alexandrite as the mood takes me and any hc posts with the header graphic attached are new content.

In regards to ic content (asks):

I've already contacted the three people this really applies to (@magioffire @guardianofyesod & Michelle, respectively) but I want to outline everything as best as I can. I've sent screenshots of what original, non meme asks I could find in my inbox to the people who sent them so they could be resent to this blog. Any asks that were based from a meme HAVE BEEN DELETED. This is in an attempt to keep down on my stress about this entire situation (which is already incredibly high as is) and the memes I spam post often will appear on this blog to spurn interactions soon. I've actually already reblogged some of my faves but I digress.

In regards to ic content (threads):

Again this really only applies to @magioffire & @guardianofyesod but I'm being thorough here so! On my end of things I am hoping to continue all of the threads that are already established/written but that doesn't mean that we have to do that. If you want to delete/scrap an interaction; reason doesn't matter, please communicate that to me as soon as you can to avoid unneeded stress and such. I, admittedly, don't really know the best way to move these particular posts over (be it just by reblogging it, linking back to the interaction in a completely new post, etc) and it's a little too much to think about right this second but rest assured I'll be approaching the people this applies to about this. Or, if you're really enthused about something (or feeling any other kind of way, obviously) you can contact me. I'm sure we'll be able to work things out together like always. (Also a huge shout-out to @magioffire for not only wanting to continue both of our threads but for also letting me post them here early, that was very helpful just in general, for testing the blog, etc. I'm very excited to continue those with you ontop of new stuff 💚)

Obviously all of this applies solely to the content still on my other blog and won't hinder any new content here (I'll be doing a small call soon, actually) and I appreciate everyone's patience and understanding in regards to ...well, literally all of this, wether you're a new follower or you've come over from alexandrite. If anyone has any questions please feel free to shoot me an ask or a message over on discord if you have my info.))

#;;ooc: blog commentary #;;ooc: mun muttering #long post #if this has typos it's bc I'm on mobile otlllll

[ruksahiroku]

Update on my Barbatos fic I mentioned a while ago....

Also, I will very rarely call Barbatos "Barb". I just feel like there's no good reason for it other than it's a long name. Feel free to give me your reasoning behind it, I'd love to hear them.

I'm about halfway done, but to be honest the pacing seems off. Might be because I only write when I'm 3/4 asleep because there aren't enough hours in the day, and of course creativity strikes at 2am when you crave macaroni and cheese.... >.>

I'm doing my best to bang this out. Hopefully after Canadian Thanksgiving I'll be done (Oct. 10). While I said the pacing is off, I do like the shocking idea of electro-stim Barbatos tail (you're welcome).

I also have another Barbatos NSFW fic in progress, and it caters to me, but I'll post it when I finish. Unfortunately I'm moving in a month, and we have packed most things, so my computer (which only this previously unmentioned fic is on) is packed up.

So hopefully one fic this month, and one next month! You can also feel free to spam my inbox to guilt me into writing faster. XD

#obey me shall we date #obey me #barbatos x mc #obey me barbatos

[miramilocamimira]

Hi its me the anon who had a lil idea in my head

I was just playing “we don’t talk about bruno” on repeat and accidentally played the next song “ A million dreams”from the greatest showman and I straight up came up with a story or an au

(I’m not really good at writing, i just have ideas pop up in my head)

At the beginning of the song I straight up thought about lil camilo (when he was about 10 or 12) singing about how he imagined his future would be like if him and mirabel actually get together

(just him straight up singing in the middle of the night while the others are asleep completely in love with mirabel)

And after the lil camilo sang his part Abuelo sings

(I don’t really know how to explain but I’ll try, it kinda goes back n fort between cami & mira and then abuelo & abuela when they were younger.

The reason why it goes back n fort its because of how similar camilo and abuelo are so in love that they would risk everything to make their partners happy and that they promise to always bring their partner at whatever they do)

{In which spoiler alert they break that promise}

Its just a lil snippet of the story or au idea in my head,the other songs are also included but i wont spam ur inbox about it if u don’t want it

Also thank u for just replying its my first time actually in sharing some ideas

SpOiLeR aLeRt BrOkEn PrOmIsE

Nooooooo

Because snow I can see Camilo doing something to protect Mirabel in a way Abuelo did for Alma and the town and omg I’m gonna cry

I love it anon omg

#madrigalcest #miramilo #camimira #mylo speaks #mylo is crying #but mylo is always crying #mylo is trash panda #abuela/Abuelo & Camilo/Mirabel

[childishfluff]

(im gonna be sending a few seperate asks since theyre seperate thoughts/ideas, sorry for any sort of inbox spam!!) ur pet regressor tommy fic led me into a whole wormhole of many different ideas.. esp abt who else is a pet regressor!!

- wilbur (cat regressor!! also very relaxed, he *will* just sleep on phil or techno's lap for hours on end. mostly nonverbal, but will meow every now nd again. mostly communicates through actions. he can purr. doesn't drop often, but when he does, it's due to extreme stress- meaning he can be pretty sensitive while he's in catspace.)

- tubbo (puppy regressor, but definitely more of a relaxed dog aside from the amnt he communicates, especially through barking, whimpering, and soft "awooo!!"'s. loves snuggles. sometimes, he's scared to come of as annoying, so he's hesitant to slip into pupspace, normally needing someone to help him along and tell him that it's ok for him to be a puppy, nd that he's a very very good boy.)

- karl (kitten regressor!!!! he's either really sleepy or really playful/energetic, and he has no in between on that. he meows.. so much.. all he kno is meow meow!! *very* sensitive while dropped, and as such, he needs a lot of validation and love. will get extremely upset with himself if he notices that anyone is even *slightly* mad/irritated by him.)

- nick (sapnap) (PUPPY REGRESSOR 100000%!!! he's very very loud and extremely playful!!! he can be entertained for *hours* w literally anything, especially toys like chew bones. doesn't really drop too often, but when he does, he drops very very far. something that can trigger his drops is when people compare his traits/actions to those of a dog because he just goes yes!! yes me!!!! dog!!! me!!!! also he loves karl *so* much because karl absolutely spoils him rotten when he's in pupspace.)

- ranboo (kitty regressor!! similar to karl, he can be really sensitive while he's dropped. entirely nonverbal, opting for actions instead. he's a mix of both playful and sleepy. when he sleeps, he curls his entire body up into a circle nd kneads at whatever he's sleeping on until he falls asleep.)

- dream (cat regressor!! sleeps a lot when he's dropped, hes just vv tired. mimics patches, and loves to follow her around/act like she does. even bases his catgear around patches, with tabby-colored cat ears and an outfit based off of similar colors. drops very easily, mostly voluntarily.)

those r the ones i can think of now.. id love to know ypur opinions/interpretations of them!! -🌻

OKAY I’M GONNA GO THROUGH THESE ONE BY ONE, AND SHARE MY THOUGHTS+OTHER POSSIBLE HCS/FIC SCENARIOS, SO LONG POST WARNING Y’ALL

1. Cat Regressor! Wilbur

yes yes yes, I wouldn’t of thought of it myself but the idea is absolutely adorable! I’d totally write that, with like handler/cg!niki in addition to those you listed. And the idea of him using it for stress and therefore being sensitive in catspace? like, that’s amazing. 

I could imagine a fic where someone pushes him to regress for fun for once, but he feels like it’s stupid to purposely act like a cat when he doesn’t need it? They don’t pressure him, or anything, but he ends up slipping because he feels safe. and he realizes not only does it help with stress, but it just makes him more happy!

also imagine him slipping around tommy for whatever reason, and just wanting to sleep while Tommy’s trying to do something fun. So he’s dragging around a sleepy kitten and waking him up every two seconds, and it’s really soft and adorable and ends up with Wilbur sleeping somewhat on Tommy so that he can’t get up and he’s like ‘you’re so lucky I love you, dude.’ awww I need to write a fic- no promises but y’know

2.Puppy Regressor!Tubbo

someone actually requested a puppy regressors!tubbo and tommy fic that I’m having trouble writing, like it sounds cute but it’s kinda hard bc I’ve never written puppyspace before. I actually decided to start over but I’ma keep trying on that. 

anyways, imagine like, Ranboo or Tommy helping him slip over a discord call! Needing help to regress is something that I understand (I age regress, but I haven’t in a while due to this issue), so I could probably write Tubbo in that position well. Needing to be coaxed and told that it’s okay to be a cute lil puppy, like that’s adorable! 

3. Kitten Regressor!Karl

tbh I tried to write kitten!karl but I was half asleep and gave up, I need to get back to that hjsiksja. Like I specialize in writing sensitive regressors w/anxiety over someone being mad at them, so I could definitely pull this off. 

and the idea of him being a talkative kitty is sooo cute! Like I can imagine something along the lines of this conversation between him and a handler/cg:

“What do you want?”

“Meowww”

“I don’t know what that means!”

“Meow?” (little head tilt and innocent cute eyes)

“Do you want cuddles?”

*excited meows! and he goes and cuddles up in their lap bc yay, they understood him!*

and imagine kitten!karl playing w/Quackity! very very adorable concept

4. Puppy Regressor! Sapnap

okay okay so I don’t watch sapnap really but this is still adorable! Like the whole ‘me, puppy? yes.’ thing is soooo cute! Imagine George or Dream just forgetting that’s a trigger and making a joke about how one of his mannerisms reminds them of a puppy and suddenly! There’s a puppy to take care of!

and karl spoiling him sounds like something he’d do hjsiksjsa. I can’t really add much on here bc idk much about him/his content past the smp but this is so cute! Maybe I’ll watch a few of his videos and attempt writing him bc I keep getting requests for him

5. Kitten Regressor! Ranboo

yes, I was already thinking about this tbh! Like I’ve written him as a little and it’s kinda similar, he’s sensitive, and he’s less verbal the littler he gets. As a kitten, I can easily picture him just being quiet. 

I imagine that he’s really pouty because of this, because he doesn’t know how to communicate otherwise, so this might confuse anyone who may take care of him. 

“Why are you pouting? Do you want cuddles? Food? Do you wanna play?” 

and he just doesn’t reply bc he’s a kitten and he can’t talk so it’s an endless cycle of guess and check until they reach the right answer, and it’s really funny to watch. I can also imagine that he giggles a lot. Like he’s not verbal or anything, and he doesn’t giggle a lot but sometimes it happens! and if you make him giggle while in kittenspace then you did something right!

it makes everyone happy when he giggles and it’s really soft and cute! I definitely think I’ll write a fic with kitten!ranboo in it, at some point eventually, I think! 

6. Cat Regressor! Dream

awwwww- I didn’t even consider the possibility of this but awwww. Imagine Wilbur and Dream in catspace together, just sleeping and cuddling while basically all the other kittens are playing and being hyper. And everyone’s trying to get them to play but they’re sleepy! (ofc they end up playing anyways bc their friends are adorable and convincing but y’know)

and I really like the idea of him mimicking patches! I’ve seen a few pet regresors say that they mimick/copy their pets so it kinda feels realistic and likely! and plus, it’s really cute. 

and since his regression is voluntary, I can imagine him like one minute, just chillin w/george and sapnap and going ‘what if- what if I just went *cat mode*’ and he tries to hint to his friends that he wants to slip but they’re not getting it so it’s kinda frustrating for him but funny for the readers to see play out bc George and Sapnap are being completely oblivious to everything. Hjsiksja that’d be funny

Thank you for sending this it, like seriously! It was really fun to go through and talk about these, I might make additional headcannon lists once I’m actually awake tomorrow bc I shouldn’t be up rn but yeah, I just wanted to go through and respond to this! <3

#dsmp #dream smp #minecraft #mcyt #wilbur soot #tubbo #karl jacobs #mrbeast #sapnap #ranboo #dream #pet regression #petre #cat regression #kittenspace #kitten regression #puppy regression #puppyspace #dream smp agere #dream smp petre

[mcyt-sh1t]

what they do when they see you struggling to sleep -multiple

summary: what they do when they see you struggling to sleep hcs

includes(in order): niki nihachu, tommyinnit, tubbo, ranboo, quackity, wilbur soot, sapnap, georgenotfound, dream

𝘕𝘐𝘒𝘐 𝘕𝘐𝘏𝘈𝘊𝘏𝘜 ♡

she's most definetly the mum friend-

i mean i'm guessing she has the best sleep scheduke out of everyone in the dream smp- (and that's saying something because istg they never sleep ;-;)

but she knows how important it is for you to get some sleep and she tells you all the time

so eventually you give in because who could resist her cute ass face and her constant "come on y/n.. please!!!"

she's very happy and giddy when you do go to sleep though :')

𝘛𝘖𝘔𝘔𝘠𝘐𝘕𝘕𝘐𝘛 ♡

this man is pure chaos-

but to be honest, he's probably the reason your not asleep-

i mean come on, mans sleep schedule is so fucked up that i'm not surprised-

but then again, he really cares about you and he wants you to get some sleep

if you wont-

prepare to be traumatised...

no seriously, this man will do everything in his power to make you go to sleep

if that means screaming into your headset, he will do it.

spamming your social medias e.g. "@y/n: if you don't fucking go to sleep in the next fucking five minutes, i won't let you come to my next vlog" or "@y/n: GO THE FUCK TO SLEEP YOU LITTLE MF!!" he will also do that😃

this man will stop at nothing till you sleep

he really does mean well <33

𝘛𝘜𝘉𝘉𝘖 ♡

he really cares for you and he wants you to be healthy(even though my mans sleep schedule is probably fucked too-)

no but he really wants you to get some sleep

he won't be as extreme as tommy but he will do anything and everything to make sure you at least get a few hours of sleep

he really cares about you <33

𝘙𝘈𝘕𝘉𝘖𝘖 ♡

he might not seem it, but he does care about your sleep schedule

he tries to convince you that he will agree to you making him say 'yes' for 24hr

or you paint his nails or do his makeup on stream

only if you go to sleep

if that doesn't work- you're going to have a tall ass american boy in your bedroom in 10 minutes. be warned🥲

he really does care for you <3

𝘘𝘜𝘈𝘊𝘒𝘐𝘛𝘠 ♡

this is no funny matter to him

he will threaten you won't sleep

or

he'll scream in spanish into your headset until you have an earache-

this man ain't joking

he is 130% serious

he will also spam you on social media like tommy

he does not hold back-

𝘞𝘐𝘓𝘉𝘜𝘙 𝘚𝘖𝘖𝘛 ♡

this man's sleep schedule is also shit- but he will help you

in his way

well- at least try to help you-

he does tell you how important it is that you get some sleep

*big brother mode activated*

he really does care about you and he will not hesitate go spam your inbox or dms

he really wants you to know that he does care for you

even if it might seem annoying at first to you

𝘚𝘈𝘗𝘕𝘈𝘗 ♡

i don't even know what to write for him-

i have a feeling he will either fake cry or he will scream into your headset

no inbetween

𝘎𝘌𝘖𝘙𝘎𝘌 ♡

to be honest i think he will either care wayy too much or he will act sad and if that doesn't convince you then he will call sapnap and dream to help convince you

𝘋𝘙𝘌𝘈𝘔 ♡

he knows what its like

i think so anyway-

he'll try to talk about it with you and what's bothering you that you can't sleep

*mama bear dream mode activated*

he keeps on telling you how proud his is of you for all your successes

no matter how big or small

𝘛𝘈𝘎𝘓𝘐𝘚𝘛 ♡

@wilczachannn @cr0wbonezz-wr1ting-inc @techn-o @sunniewrites @lavenderjacobs @lakifaki @deceptxcon

#queud #i'll do the tags in the morning-

[leam1983]

On Grief

This is a long one. You're under no obligation to push further if you don't want to. It's a personal post, so I'll more than understand if this isn't to your tastes. The normally-scheduled pedantry, commentary and memes will resume shortly.

One of my relatives was diagnosed with ALS. What started as an odd case of palsy in her left set of vocal cords that could've been far more benign was just confirmed by her referred physician. It's Lou Gherig's, and with her age and current condition, her prognosis is of three to five years, tops. Sure, Stephen Hawking blew his own prognosis out of the water, but a combination of notoriety and luck enabled him to eke out as much existence as medical tech could've possibly allowed.

We knew things were suspect when my aunt, a marathoner with a monthly sub to Runner's World, stopped running. Her food intake dropped like a stone, and she soon took to increasingly simple painting and drawing styles. At first we thought it was just her wanting to explore simpler rendering techniques, but then...

Then we noticed the twitching. How awkwardly her pens and brushes were set in her hands. She was in great shape and didn't mind living in the ass-end of Sutton, basically in the open country and with a path leading up to her front door that was all in rough cobblestones. She broke a hip against them, last year.

Her speech started to slur, lately. Her last bike trip also landed her in the ER. She doesn't bike anymore. She doesn't run, and being a gourmand by nature, feels obligated to restrain herself, for fear of gaining weight. She's aggressively vegan. Not towards others, but towards herself. No meat, no eggs, nothing. Most of us ovo-lactos and omnivores in the family know her constant snacking meant her seventy-plus body is desperate for energy.

From the look of things, it feels like the diagnosis broke through her bullshit reasoning for being vegan. She wasn't vegan for the sake of limiting her carbon footprint or making more responsible choices at the grocery store, but because she, as a lifelong anorexic, thought she was ugly and needed to lose weight. That's been a constant with her. Age catches up and skin sags? She mistakes it for a love handle, cuts out virtually all sources of protein and carbs safe for tofu, seitan and bean-based preps. Of course, like a lot of anorexics, she'd have bulemic episodes. I used to sleep over at her last bachelor pad, as a teen, and I remember her pantry was loaded up for bear with Danish cookie tins, Nutella jars and whipped cream. I remember she invited me over specifically when she intended to cheat. Then it was back to yoga, pot-smoking, meditation and shopping runs - and she probably kept her purging for when I was gone.

So yeah. I'm betting Belgian Asshole (see one of my previous posts) convinced her to break her vows and went looking for a "slice of authentic Tikka Masala", to quote his email. The entire family is made up of ethnic food diehards, so we spam-flooded his inbox with recommendations. Looks like she'll be eating meat again, soon. Her own email mentioned concerns of strength and stamina, so I get it.

Otherwise? We're gobsmacked. Imagine spending an entire weekday both at work and off work, aggressively goofing off because you're trying as hard as you can not to think of your favourite aunt's mention of assisted suicide as an option.

Three to five years. Maybe one, or two good Christmases. After that, her condition should probably have started to deteriorate quickly.

I'm not close with a ton of my own family. I love them all, but it's more a sense of polite respect than anything involving solid bonds. The only two folks I know I'll be devastated for when they'll die are her, and my youngest cousin on the other side of the family.

I'm mostly okay now. No doubts, no crisis of unbelief, no anger, no rage... But then I'll see her in a more diminished state, one of those days. How am I going to take to it?

Part of me keeps a tally of the deaths in the family. First, it was my uncle on my mother's side. Ruptured abdominal artery, with a leak small enough to pool into the gut's cavity for months. Decay settled in, guy got anesthetized for an intervention...

They didn't even bother sewing him back up.

Second one was my other paternal aunt's new husband. First one was great, but left the country in the seventies to go live in Stockholm with his medical assistant. Second one was a geologist and physicist at the same campus she taught as. French guy, the son of innkeepers four generations down. It showed, too. Our Christmas tables haven't been the same since he left us his recipie books, all his corny jokes on provincial eating habits, and his obstinate focus on turning every 25th of December into a Roman orgy probably befitting of the old Saturnalia traditions. I mean, when's the last time you've had an eight-course meal, outside of Thanksgiving?

Tumors in his mesenteric artery lined the blood vessel's inner walls, deposited virtually everywhere in his body. He was diagnosed in June and dead by August. He'd always been the lanky type, bone-thin even if he hoovered food like he'd never have enough. He looked even thinner in his hospital bed.

Then, my maternal grandpa bit it. Decades of casual alcoholism, cirrhosis more or less jumping on him around his seventy-sixth year. He looked a bit like John Keston, the actor who played Gehn in CyanWorlds' Riven. Same hairline, same hawkish nose, same eyes - just more Cajun and less New England-esque. I don't know if it was youth or stupidity or - anything, really, but I dropped by to see him, just two days before he died. I didn't realize he was tallying my life, asking me if I had everything in order, if things were planned.

Now, I understand.

Next one on the chopping block is Aunt Doris, still on Mom's side. She of the serial mooching, she of the concept of not needing much to get by if you were the cute one of the family. She was pretty enough in her prime, sure - if by pretty you meant "cigarette-butt blonde with a discount Farah Fawcett blow-up and an unfinished High School degree". First husband was an abusive ass who gave her an uncommonly sensitive son, second one figured she'd stick to the minimum-wage circuit while he tore out rotator cuffs or busted his C7 while on his outboard like clockwork. By the end, she roped my grandmother into living with her, spent her days sloppy-drunk and died on her ratty couch while falling asleep and choking on her own vomit.

Before them all, the youngest of my uncles died at age two. Cancer. Never knew which one, was told it didn't matter. You didn't survive much of anything cancerous, back in the late fifties.

Ping-pong this back to three years ago, and my oldest paternal uncle dies. Paul, who smoked like a chimney for most of his life and successfully stopped after discovering Champix. He got to live five great years as the high-IQ oddball he'd always been, smoke-free. Paul was the weird bird in the family, the type to remember a really engrossing story at two in the morning and making a note to call you up first thing in the morning to share it. He always had a project of some sort to work on, like a simulated investors' tank for young entrepreneurs looking to learn the ropes, or a Byzantine arrangement of coaxials allowing four of his lakeside neighbours to pirate his cable sub. He'd invite us over for dinner, gather all the ingredients we'd need for whatever it was he wanted to treat us to - and then he'd let us cook it - just sitting by the sidelines, chatting away.

He was also a bit of a narcoleptic, and looked a bit like William Howard Taft if you'd worked him out of these old sack suits and into modern shirts and suspenders. He fell asleep practically everywhere, with his more wakeful environments being his workshop and his property's dock. He took me out fishing, once, and knew what the entire family expected.

"Oars're here, Gremlin, fish're that way. Wake me up when you've got a bite."

At this point, it wasn't even a point of concern; it was just an Uncle Paul Thing, the exact thing you'd have expected out of this kind, eccentric blob of a man whose idea of fishing involved pushing his hat over his eyes and basically all but ensuring that his roaring snores would scare prey away. He'd been a supposedly high-IQ type, terminally bored with almost everything, only really getting agitated and interested back when I asked him for help for my Junior High Computer class's Javascript calculator. Once the syntax hit something familiar and he realized that JS has some similarities with FORTRAN, he was on a roll, acting like someone had snuck a Red Bull in his coffee.

Well, fibrosis caught up with him. His last hours were spent directing us on how to cook what would've been his last meal. I think he really just wanted to know we were alright, that we still could exchange laughs around the kitchen counter. He clocked out the way he always did, except he had an oxygen tube running under his nose. His head bobbed down, he snored loudly for a few minutes, then turned increasingly quiet...

And that was it.

And now there's Isabelle. The marathoner, my partner-in-crime when it comes to professing to have a healthy diet while occasionally cheating in glorious, weekend-defining means, my gateway to cannabis and also the first person who took my cringy self-insert fanfic fodder and went No, that's worth it! Push it, develop that universe of yours!

I wouldn't be almost two-thirds of the way through my first decent manuscript, if not for her, and I wouldn't be shopping for publishers with the same energy you'd reserve for weekend-grade Facebook putzing-about. I owe her part of my self-acceptance, and part of my discovery of what defines my routine to this day. Isabelle was my first meditation coach.

And in three to five years, she might be gone.

I just thought grief might be... noisier, is all. Louder. Right now, it's just germane to confusion, and it's sitting there. There's a pinch of fear in it, too. My parents are in their mid-sixties. How long do I have left with them?!

And the family and I just covered that up with jokes and, well, cooking. I've been told I'd make a half-decent therapist but - navigating your own emotions is hard work...

I don't know. I guess I needed to put this down somewhere.

#personal life #tw: cancer mention #tw: alcoholism mention #tw: death mentions #grief #coping

[scenecipriano]

Always The Hero(5)

Chapter Five: Long Live The King

Warnings: Unsymp!Roman, strong language, arguing, mentions of violence, intrusive thoughts mentioned, THIS IS NOT UNSYMP!REMUS- so- please don’t spam my inbox asking to tag unsymp!Remus because it’s /not/-

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

   "What do you mean, 'Roman is intrusive thoughts' with you?" Janus asks, Remus sighs and throws his head back in dramatic fashion.    "It means, Jan, that Roman is intrusive thoughts with me. Honestly it was bound to happen, you guys treat him like shit."     Remus watches as the light sides immediately deny his claim, meanwhile Janus stands there, his head lowered not wanting to look the Duke in the eyes.     "Look, don't try to deny it alright? It was bound to happen sooner or later, it happened, now we need to focus on fixing my brother."    "Well, how do you expect us to do that when Princey is trying to kill us instead of just talking?" Virgil snaps, his eyeshadow darkening slightly.      "I'm on the inside, it'll be easy, but we all have to work together, which means daddy frog legs over there needs to stop being a scared piss baby and you panic at the everywhere need to stop treating Jan and me like a major puss filled thorn in your side."       Remus sighs as he drags his hand through his hair, honestly when did he become the hero and voice of reason? This was more up Roman's alley than his.       "What I do not understand is how you were able to get close to Roman. To my understanding the two of you don't get along," Logan says his eyebrow raised in a silent question.        "Well, at first he had his sword to my neck,but then we started talking. I had to convince him that I was on his side so I could stay with him. If it wasn't for him falling asleep I wouldn't be here now."

     Really, Remus should be heading back to his brother, if Roman wakes up to him gone there was no telling how he'd react.    'I believe I would have react like this dear brother...'    Remus tenses, his green eyes growing wide.   "Remus? Are you okay?" Janus asks.     Remus goes to reply only to be cut off by a pained scream. He felt as if he was being torn apart, Remus falls to his knees,wrapping his arms around his waist. Images of him and Roman being split apart flash through his head, the phantom pains of the past shooting through him like electricity from a ten thousand volt taser.    Remus heard multiple shouts of his name around him, but it didn't stop the thoughts and images from racing.    'You lied to me!'    "I-I didn't!! P-Please stop!!" Remus cries.    'Stop? Why should I? You're just like them, a damn liar!'     The others flinch when a guttural scream rips through Remus.     "R-Ro please! Just s-stop, I have an idea!"    Remus gasps in relief when the pain and images stop, he pants softly as the last bit of the pain fades away.   'I'm listening.'   "L-Lets fuse... w-we'll fuse that's how you'll know I'm not lying."    Remus looks up at the others and winks, the images of the split gave him an idea, a way to subdue Roman without hurting him and without him hurting the others.   '...okay, I'll trust you. '    Remus relaxes, he looks Janus in the eye,sharing a nod with his friend before sinking out.    "What the hell just happened?" Virgil asks.    "Remus just gave us a chance to bring Roman back."     When Remus appears in Roman's room he's met with the point of his brothers sword.    "Did you really think, I'd fall for that? Let you corrupt me for the sake of them?"   Remus silently curses as he holds his hands up.     "Roman, they're trying to help you, they're trying to make amends, you have to let them."     Roman sneers and backs Remus to the wall, a smirk forming on the older twins face once he has Remus cornered.     "I don't need their help,I only need yours...I quite enjoyed your fusion idea... the mind palace needs its ruler back..."    Remus tenses.    "No, no I changed my mind. I don't want to fuse, no."     Roman tosses his sword aside and grabs Remus by the shoulders, holding the younger twin in a tight grasp. He grins as Remus struggles,a brightlight beginning to engulf the two of them.    "You act as if you have a choice."

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

A/N: Oh look an update for this-..that I wrote entirely on my phone XD 

~TAGLIST~: @fear-is-nameless @morannegg @confusedhost @we-panic-at-the-everywhere @hell-yea-we-gay-tonight @jade-orade @grayson-22 @theyluna-womoon @deceitifullies101

#sanders sides #logan sanders #remus sanders #patton sanders #janus sanders #virgil sanders #roman sanders #unsympathetic roman #tw intrusive thoughts #tw weapon #tw strong language #tell me if I need to add anything else

[lovemesomesurveys]

Why aren’t you texting the last person you kissed? We don’t talk anymore, haven’t in years.

Has someone ever called you at midnight on your birthday? Yeah, when I was younger. One of my cousins always texts me at midnight on my birthday, though. 

Have you ever slept in the same bed as your friend? Yeah. Who was the first person you talked to today? No one yet, it’s barely going to be 8AM.

How many text messages are in your inbox? I am not going to count them.

Will this week be a good one? Well, yesterday my stomach was really bothering me and I was nauseous off and on all day, so not off to a great start. 

What was the last movie you watched and with who? Monster’s University with my mom and brother.

Anything happen to you within the past month that made you really happy? No.

What are you wearing right now? Leggings and a graphic tee as per usual.

Do you want to see somebody right now? No.

When’s the last time you cried? A couple days ago.

Will you regret your next kiss? I hope not.

Are you a forgiving person? Yes.

Do you currently have feelings for anybody? Not romantic feelings.

When was the last time you changed in front of someone? I don’t change in front of anyone.

Are you the youngest person living in your house? No.

Have you ever liked someone older than you? Only by a year.

Who did you last fall asleep with? Just myself.

Would you hug the last person you hugged again? Yes.

Now your cell phone, what color is it? Coral.

Who were you last in a car with? My mom.

Who did you text most today? No one so far. 

Do you have a reason to smile right now? No. Did a boy or a girl text you last? Girl.

Think back to the last person you held hands with, would you kiss them? No.

When was the last time something bothered you? Now. Always.

Would you rather love one person, or have many short relationships? One person. 

Would you prefer to date someone taller, shorter, or the same height as you: Taller, but most people are taller than me anyway.

Can you be your complete self around the person you like? I don’t like anyone in that way. Are you wearing makeup? No. I haven’t worn makeup in like 3 years.

What color was the last vehicle you were in? Red.

Is there a person of the opposite gender on your mind? No.

What’s a word that starts with the third letter of your first name? Elephant.

Have you ever kissed the last person you texted? On the cheek.

Do you always answer your phone? Only if it’s my parents or brother. That’s really all who calls me anyway, with the exception of spam/scam calls.

Does anyone ever spell your name wrong? Very rarely.

Will you be up before 7AM tomorrow? I don’t even go to sleep until after 7AM now for whatever reason. It’s been like most of this year.

In the past week have you cried? Yep.

Do you get along with your parents? Yes. I’m close with them, especially with my mom.

What was the last thing you looked up on YouTube? ASMR videos.

Any upcoming vacations? No, sadly. Who knows when the next vacation will be now. 

What’s the first thing you notice about the opposite sex? Overall appearance?

Do you have alcohol in your house? Yeah.

What’s the closest pink object to you? A crewneck. 

Are you mad at someone right now? No.

Are you ticklish? Just my neck.

Would your life be the same without alcohol? I haven’t drank in almost 10 years.

Have you had “the best night of your life?” I’ve had nights that felt that way at the time.

What was the first thing you thought this morning? I haven’t gone to bed, yet, but it’s morning now and I’m thinking about food. At least I have an appetite today.

What were you doing at 2AM last night? Reading.

The shirt you’re wearing, does anyone else have it? I’m sure a lot of people do.

If you were offered to smoke some weed right now, would you accept? Nah.

Could you go a month without cursing? Yeah. I don’t curse that much.

Ever been out of your state? Yes, a few times.

Do you plan on getting drunk or high tonight? Nope, I don’t do either one.

Toilet papered someone’s house? Nooo. That’s so incredibly rude and stupid.

Do you prefer to take showers at night or in the morning? At night.

Have you been to New York City? No, but I’d love to go one day.

Can you go a day without laughing? There are days like that.

Is there anybody you wish you would be spending time with right now? No. Are you tired? Yes.

How many tattoos would you get? I highly doubt I’ll ever get one.

Do you get drunk every weekend? If I haven’t drank in almost 10 years then no.

Have you held hands with someone in the past 24 hours? No.

Who was the last person you high fived? I don’t recall the last time I did that.

How many bracelets do you have on your wrists right now? Zero.

Do you know how to drive? No.

Will next Friday be a good one? *shrug*

Who was the last person to wink at you? My doggo.

[found at quarantin3surv3ys]

#personal #text #survey #surveys

[wndmxmffs]

Morning Kisses

For my gorgeous girl @wandavenge (happy birthday baby, hope this will cheer you up!! ilysm)

Request: Hi! Your prompt list has really inspired me and I love your writing too! So!!! Get ready for spam bby!!!!💛 Okay, so, could I request Wanda Maximoff with the fluff prompts: 3, 4, 5 + 9 and the kissing prompt: 4! Like, I could imagine these with just a fluffy morning and it’s already making me uwu, I know that whatever you do I’ll love it!💛 

fluff:

3. “I think I love you.”

4. “You aren’t alone. You’ve never been.”

5. “It’s not a double date. We’re just third and fourth wheeling.”

9. “You’re beautiful, you know that?”

kissing: half-asleep

Word Count: 1K+

Warning: none (if we don’t count my terrible writing lmao)

A/N: this is for my amazing baby Ari who’s celebrating her birthday today! i love you so much, my darling and i really hope you’ll like how this turned out! happy reading xx

It was already way past ten in the morning when the light chirping of birds woke you up from a quality ten-hour sleep. You and Wanda had stayed up until midnight the night before, talking about literally everything that had come to your minds until you both eventually fell asleep with your limbs tangled. 

You woke up even before your girlfriend but you stayed in bed for a little while, watching Wanda in her sleep. She seemed so peaceful, happy even, and you knew Wanda only looked this genuine when she was asleep or spending time with you. After all that had happened, both of you were filled with sadness and anxiety, grieving the ones who were gone and fearing a brand new attack. Of course, you still had your moments when you enjoyed life and each other’s company carelessly, but most of the time, you two were worried and easily strangled, the cuts still too fresh to be forgotten. 

You were watching as Wanda’s facial expression changed and she was soon woken up by another nightmare, looking around in the bedroom with her chest shifting up and down rapidly. You looked at her with worry in your eyes - no matter how much you tried to keep yourself collected for your girlfriend during these times, you were never able to hide the fact that you worried yourself sick. Wanda meant the whole world to you and seeing her in such a state ripped your heart to pieces.

“Hey, love. I’m here, don’t worry. You aren’t alone. You’ve never been”, you whispered in her ear while pulling her shaking body in for a tight hug. Wanda clung onto you as if you were the stone in the middle of the ocean, like you were the only strong point in her life. And maybe it was true - after all that you two have been through since joining the Avengers left you lost and unsteady, but you both knew at least you had something worth fighting for in this life: each other.

You held back your tears as Wanda slowly calmed down and pulled away from you to wipe her tears away and rub her face, forcing a light smile on her face in order to calm you down as well. You knew there was a thunderstorm raging inside of her but she kept herself together so well and you couldn’t help but admire her incredible strength. Wanda had always let you know about everything but she knew when to stop - she never went so far to be a burden for you or worry you way too much with her struggle, this way trying to protect you. Little did she know that you were well-aware about everything she was going through and even though you didn’t alway show it, you were more than concerned about the well-being of Wanda.

Once Wanda completely calmed down and returned to reality, she lay back down on the bed while grabbing your waist and pulling you on top of herself. You giggled as you basically fell onto her, both of you still half-asleep even though Wanda had just gone through a slight anxiety attack. 

“Can’t we just stay in bed all day?”, she murmured into your hair making you chuckle before she placed her hand on the back of your neck and placed a sweet and sleepy kiss on your soft lips. You kissed back and continued kissing Wanda until you both ran out of breath. You pulled away and looked down at her, taking in every bit of your wonderful girlfriend without realising that Wanda was doing the exact same thing. She pulled you back to reality when she put a loose strand of hair behind your ear and whispered to you softly.

“You’re beautiful, you know that?”, Wanda stated, making you blush and chuckle while biting your lower lip before looking deep into your girlfriend’s green eyes. Suddenly, all your worries seemed to had flown out of the window and you felt absolutely at ease in Wanda’s arms. You were so happy at that moment that you forgot to think at that moment and simply blurted it out:

“I think I love you.”

The unexpected confession caused dead silence in the room and it was way too late when you realised you had said it out loud. As you saw Wanda’s eyes widen and her slightly parted lips, you wished you could disappear at that moment and never return. You were afraid Wanda wouldn’t feel so deeply about yourself and your only happiness in life could slip out of your hands. After a few minutes, you let out an awkward chuckle and started to push yourself up to get off Wanda but she immediately pulled you back for a long kiss.

“I love you too, Y/N. I love you so much”, she mumbled against your lips, making you gasp and blinking at your girlfriend, not believing that you both just said your first ‘i love you’s. Wanda laughed at your reaction and placed another gentle kiss on your lips. “Come on. You’re my girlfriend for a reason, babe.”

You couldn’t help but grin at her because of her reply and you kissed Wanda again before getting up from the bed to prepare breakfast for the both of you. Your girlfriend whined for a while because she wanted to cuddle you up but she finally gave in when you mentioned pancakes. You giggled when she creeped up behind you and wrapped her arms around you, not even bothering to help you with the preparation. You were mixing the ingredients when you remembered Bucky had asked for a favour a week before.

“Oh by the way, Bucky’s having a date soon and he asked me if we would be so kind to go with him”, you said while adding a little bit of more water. “I said yes.”

“Oh, so we’re going on a double date?”, Wanda mumbled into your neck, sending shivers down your spine. You chuckled before replying.

“It’s not a double date. We’re just third and fourth wheeling”, you answered. “It’s their first date and we’re going to be chaperones, just in case.”

Wanda hummed, clearly not even listening to half the stuff you were saying because the sweet smell of your shampoo was too big of a distraction.

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REQUESTS ARE CLOSED

#request #done #writing prompts #mcu #mcu imagine #mcu one-shot #mcu ladies #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff fluff #wanda maximoff imagine #scarlet with #scarlet witch x reader #scarlet witch fluff #scarlet witch imagine

[madamhatter]

koagema inquired: “HATTER-SAN...! SATAN-KUN KISSED ME...!” is she fanning herself over this? absolutely. “hatter-san...! i whipped belphegor-kun and he really liked it! he’s staying at my room tonight~” UNPROMPTED ASKS | ALWAYS WELCOMED | @koagema​

HATTER-SAN...! SATAN-KUN KISSED ME...!  (⁄ ⁄>⁄ ▽ ⁄<⁄ ⁄) ⇦「 Received from: 千秋 七海 (牡丹-ちゃん) 」 

「 Sent to: 千秋 七海 (牡丹-ちゃん) 」⇨ Ms. Nanami, this is wonderful news about you are maneuvering through the dating simulation. This is a great indicator too that your progress in the game and this route will be a successful one. ‘Satan’ is the blond one, no? Though, how fares your progress with the ‘Lucifer’ character? Ms. Nevermind is simply adoring how he checks off every item on her list. 

. . . . .

hatter-san...! i whipped belphegor-kun and he really liked it! he’s staying at my room tonight~ ∑d(°∀°d) ⇦「 Received from: 千秋 七海 (牡丹-ちゃん) 」

「 [DRAFT] Sent to: 千秋 七海 (牡丹-ちゃん) 」⇨ Ms. Nanami, is that an ethical way to treat a demon? Must I presume that lot of seven are all masochists? Goodness, what a particular implication that carries -- 'whip me if you want me.’ Add the fact the game might be using a generic riding crop graphic to represent that mechanic, I wonder if they actually put in the effort to distinguish different whips per demon like a bull-whip for one or even a many-tailed flogger. 「 Sent to: 千秋 七海 (牡丹-ちゃん) 」⇨ And I hope he would help me in reminding you to get some sleep tonight as lack of sleep affects your daily performance. Honestly, this company could make so much revenue if they considered making alarm clocks with their property. I can only imagine how you’d leap out of bed if you heard Mr. Belgephor yawning and telling you to get up. 

. . . . .

LED white light traces over the exhausted features of Sophie, who is hidden underneath two blankets as she comfortably resides on her bed. Rest, still, is as desired on any day like today, but it is fleeting and leaves a heavy-lidded student to fall into lapses of boredom. The young woman rolls around in her blankets, her mismatched socks, and all bundled together as she tried to retain warmth.

It was another week of school done, a day of rest today, and she found herself scrolling through the distant and infrequent messages that made her up logs between her and her classmates. For some reason, it kept on returning to reading Chiaki’s texts -- she half-acknowledged it was amusing, if not, educational. After all, half of what the Ultimate Gamer spoke about current pop culture and interests were far out of the hatter’s league. While Sophie may blank out on understanding gaming, or the particular history and evolution of arcade cabinets to game cartridges, it gave her an opportunity to learn.

Long, wavy locks of deep copper locks mixed with silver drape over her shoulders, her round cheek pressing against her forearm. “Hm, I wonder if she’s asleep,” she murmurs, glancing at the time on her phone.

Their mutual friends were already aware of how addicting these games could be for Chiaki -- more so, how any mobile game can be for her since it’s an arm’s reach away from her. Though it kept her entertained and excited, spamming Sophie’s inbox with consistent updates. It was something to talk about, keeping liveliness in a friendship with someone as mundane and uninteresting as Sophie Hatter. 

Yet, for now, the Hatter keeps herself busy, scrolling aimlessly on her phone. Maybe sleep will overtake her, letting her doze for an hour or so before the dormitory building comes to life abruptly at 7 AM. 

#( verse: the ultimate ᶠᵃᶦˡᵘʳᵉ hatter | school life ) #( checkbooks inquiries and much ; answered asks ) #koagema #[ this is ten times funnier ; considering sophie's involvement with a many demons in canon ] #[ also ! i combined these two asks into one ; if not to have fun with an idea ! ] #[ alsosophieaskswhenit'stimefortwistedwonderland ] #nsfwish tw #obey me tw

[rhymeswithlion]

Writing Exercise #2 - DO NOT LOOK AT THE MOON

[WP] It's 3AM. An official phone alert wakes you up. It says, "DO NOT LOOK AT THE MOON." You have hundreds of notifications. Hundreds of random numbers are sending "It's a beautiful night tonight. Look outside."

--------

The phone alarm blared at full volume, jarring Michael out of a deep sleep. He opens his telephone to a large alert window that reads, "DO NOT LOOK AT THE MOON." He sees his own puzzled expression reflected on it. The phone buzzed maddeningly as it is flooded by text messages by numbers he's never seen before. He begins to think of how so many people could have gotten his number. He turned on the light and got out of bed.

Michael was, by all means, an introvert. He tended to leave his abode as infrequently as he could afford. Work and basic needs like groceries and hygiene were of the few things to drag him from his habitat. He had friends whom he saw semi-regularly (at least, to him it seemed that way. His friends would have consider their meetings closer to seasonal). Michael could count them on two hands. Could he have shared his phone number online? Was it from all the free trials of subscriptions that he used? Had someone hacked him?

The phone vibrated for minutes. He felt ambushed by continued stream of notifications once it fell the to the ground from his desk. He broke from thought and reached for it, still buzzing. He hadn't even read the messages; He was too concerned with figuring out what this could possibly be.

Michael pressed a button and the device comes to life. He still saw the alert about the moon. He couldn’t dismiss it, either. Odd. The phone continued showing notifications. Michael couldn’t shake the bad feeling that rushed over him. He searched for news online. The internet, his main source of information about the world outside of his bedroom, yielded no helpful results. It was supposedly a normal morning. Another round of notification alerts appeared before the phone settled down for a few minutes, somehow leaving him Michael more unsettled.

"258 New Messages" was next on his home screen. 258 spam messages or advertisements sent to him in the middle of the night was the best case scenario in his mind. He opened his messages and nearly dropped the phone in shock. He lost his breathe. His face paled, to a shade some might consider undiscovered. Unread messages from different unlabeled contacts took up most of his screen. Everyone read the same: "It's a beautiful night tonight. Look outside."

Michael staggered from the shock and sat down to collect himself. He didn't understand. Worriedly, he checked the concealment of his own windows. He returned to his desk, leaving his phone aside, and searched about the moon with his computer. He saw pages of images and new stories about the moon, but nothing about not looking at it. The only helpful information he found was a blog post discussing lunar phases, myth, and legends. The blogger, whose other posts included conspiracy theories that ranged from "believable" to "this reads like bad fanfiction", cited the full moon tonight as their inspiration for the article. Michael, mentally grasping for straws, continued to read in hopes of finding some rational explanation about the moon that night. Of course, seeking reasonable explanations on a website discussing the high likelihood of reptiles running the world may not have been the most reliable source.

One part in particular caught Michael's eyes: "There are unexplainable increases in emergency room visits, accidents, crime rates, and spiritual practices around the time of the full moon. The latin word "Luna" is the root for the word "Lunatic", driven by a belief that abnormal behavior was most common during the full moon. Could this be when the world is most open to supernatural phenomena? Studies have shown no statistic background but there is a lot of data on the topic. Maybe this one will be special." He looked down from his computer screen back to his phone as it buzzed with new life. More unknown numbers. More messages. The panic hit him like he had just learned he was burning. He physically recoiled and jumped from his chair.

Michael began trying to rationalize the situation, "Maybe it's a big prank. There's nothing online about it! I should text my friends about it! No, that's dumb. Who would respond at 3 AM? They're all asleep, I'm sure. I should talk to the neighbors. I'll get dressed and talk to the neighbors."

Michael's apartment building is one of those that seems bigger on the inside. From the outside it looked like a modest, single story, three bedroom home. Surprisingly, there are 12 studio apartments. It was mostly surrounded by taller buildings but he could always see the sky from his window if he stood close. He always felt that some natural light would be better than none.

He was familiar enough with his proximate neighbors, if only because they expectedly saw each other when departing or returning. He didn’t even know their names. Well, he didn’t remember them. He had heard them on several occasions but managed to get by all the same. Michael dressed with clothes he wore that day, since they were the closest to him and he believed nobody would care about that kind of stuff at 3 AM. Just before opening the door, he remembered a window in the hall to the right.

"It doesn't have a shade or curtain, but I don't want to risk looking at the moon by accident. It doesn't hurt to be too careful, right?"

He exited his bedroom with a flattened cardboard box he'd used to move in several months earlier. It was large enough to cover a portion of the wall and the hall window and reached to his right to place it. The difficult part of his plan was placing it while looking away. He backpedaled towards the window with his head turned until he felt the makeshift barrier contact the wall. He leaned it on the wall and went back to retrieve a suitcase large enough to hold it in place. Michael turned back towards his across-the-hall neighbor and knocks on the door. As he knocked, he realized the door had been left open. He knocked again and took a step inside.

"Hello? Is anyone home?"

No response.

"It's me, Michael...I’m sorry to bother you at this hour. Are you getting any of these weird phone alerts?"

The silence worsened his anxiety and paranoia. He stepped forward to look around, careful of his angle towards any open spaces and potential windows. The room was empty. There were no signs of disturbance, yet no one was there. The open window was the only detail to catch his eye. Thankfully, he was safe from direct view of the moon. He left the apartment and returned to the hallway. Michael looked left to see his barricade and felt some reassurance under the pressure. He stepped towards his next door neighbor's door. Once again, he knocked and the door crept open. Michael cautiously moved inside and briefly surveyed the area. Aside from the contents of the room, the details were the same: no signs of disturbance, no tenant, and an open window. He closed the door and decided to check the rest of the apartments. Every room on his floor was empty. Every tenant was missing. Every door was unlocked. Everyone’s windows were open. Michael took great care to avoided any views outside neighbors' windows and made sure to close every door behind him.

He couldn’t suppress himself anymore. Michael yelled at the top of his lungs, hoping to dispel some of the fear consuming him. He checked his phone again. New alerts were all the same: A warnings about the moon and ceaseless texts about the beautiful night. He walked back down the hallway to his bedroom and loudly slammed the door behind him. He tried to lock the door but can't seem to stop his hands from shaking. After struggling for some time, Michael sat back down at his desk. He decided to call everyone he knows. He knew there was something terribly wrong and needed to hear a familiar voice. Michael opened his contacts list and hurriedly called each person.

"This number is not accepting calls at this time. Please try again later", a pre-recorded message repeats several times before he hung up the phone. He tried again with the next name on his list to no avail. Another attempt, another failure. Michael worked through his entire social circle of friends, family, and co-workers before collapsing to the floor, physically and mentally exhausted. He spoke loudly to himself, perhaps in an attempt to give himself some kind of company,

“What the hell is going on? Where is everyone? This must be real. Is this real life? Am I really awake? Am I alive or dead?”

A moment passed before something clicked, or perhaps snapped, in his mind. There were so many unknown variables. What was going on? Could someone else have managed to avoid the night sky, by accident or intentionally? Were there any other people experiencing the same dread? What was the government doing? Was there still a government? Was anyone in contact with anyone? Will anything change when the sun comes out?

Michael resolved himself, in only for the moment. He decided to return to his studio to check television, radio, and the internet to see any notice about this grave and present emergency. He planned to take a sleeping pill and set several alarms to wake him up for daytime, so that he could go outside and find someone else, anyone else.

His phone buzzed while his computer notified him of new emails. He tripped on the pile of unfinished books that had accumulated near his bed. His hand moved swiftly to move the mouse and see what his inbox had to offer. At this point, he felt anything would be a comfort. He had been proven wrong. 100 new emails from new senders that all read, “It’s a beautiful night tonight. Look outside.”

He firmly shut the door behind him and locked it, as though there was any sign of activity in his entire building. He roused his computer from its sleep and refreshed his news feed on Google, Facebook, and other media outlets. Nothing was different. Nothing had changed since he had looked. This was the digital age, he thought. If something this big was going on, someone would have posted something. There was no evidence of any new developments in the world. The only solace he found was on the television and radio, which he felt was a bit ironic but almost certainly wasn't.

A message displayed on his television screen through the local emergency broadcast system and the radio played a text-to-speech of the same notice: “DO NOT LOOK AT THE MOON.” He turned off his television, computer, and radio. He found his sleeping pills, dropping some to the floor because of a steady tremble through his hands and body. He took one, drank some water, and closed his eyes. He fell asleep, but he couldn't tellhow long it took. He just knew it felt like a lifetime.

Michael's alarms went off in metered intervals. 9:00 AM, 9:05 AM, 9:10 AM, and so forth. He swung his legs to the side of his bed and stood up too quickly, falling back down as the blood had rushed to his head. Sleep had helped to clear his head. He thought it was probably a dream. Things would go back as they used to be because he was just having a bad dream. Seeking brief comfort, he opened his computer and turned on his TV and radio. The contents were the same as before he had forced himself to bed. It was like the world had stopped. No news - no celebrity gossip, sports analysis, political stirrings, weather, Reddit, Facebook.

Michael briefly felt confident in thinking that maybe nothing at all happened in the world today. He could barely grasp his immediate surrounding circumstances, let alone an world events. He turned to his curtained window before he was overcome with a sense that something was terribly, terribly wrong. He rushed to his light switch and turned off his ceiling lamp to confirm his suspicions. He was right. There was no natural light. Where was the sun? He turned his light back on just so he could feel some kind of radiant warmth on his skin.

The only certainty in Michael's mind was that he was still alive. He must still be alive. He pinched himself to see, because he learned from someone that feeling a pinch meant you were not dreaming. He began searching for food, then decided that tending to basic needs would help him to better process the situation. His eyes shot to the small pantry in his kitchen and he approached. Grief and hunger worsened the realization that he had nothing edible in his whole apartment. Could he borrow some food from neighbors? Would they even care? Would they ever even notice? Would they ever be back? Guilt and determination collided in his mind before he walked into each of his neighbors’ apartments.

After some time scavenging the building, he assembled the haul on his countertop: a collection of three half-eaten bags of tortilla chips, eight ounces of two-day old guacamole, five cans of soup, four packages of instant ramen, two eggs, and a frozen pizza. Conservatively, he felt this would last him just under a week. Michael took a shower to wash the dirt, sweat, and stress from him. He planned to eat two meals a day and continue until the sun came up. Once the sun came up, he would try to find help.

His daily to-do list on the refrigerator nagged him. He always needed structure. It helped organize his thoughts and kept him focused. He designed a daily routine for himself until the situation changed. He used one hand to write and one to shovel guacamole and chips into his mouth. The schedule read, “Wake up. Check for sun. Eat. Check internet, TV, etc. Read. Shower. Eat. Go to bed.” He felt more in control in this moment, proudly shoveling the last bit of guacamole into his mouth. He grabbed the closest book-in-progress to him, of which there were many, and read for as long as he could. He plugged his phone in once he began dozing off, checked his alarms, took a couple of sleeping pills, and fell into the covers of his bed.

Michael woke up the next day with a stronger sense of purpose and control of his situation. He looked to his list. He knew the first step of his day. He approached his window and saw`the same as yesterday. He sighed and walked to retrieve the frozen pizza but a lack of appetite changed his mind. Nothing new on the internet. No new messages. He picked up a different book nearby him and began reading until his sight blurred. He marked the page, dropped the book, and walked to his shower. Michael solemnly walked to his bed and took more pills than usual. He stared at his window before drifting off.

His alarms rang. He woke up. He saw a familiar lack of light outside. He turned on his oven for a moment and inserted the frozen pizza. No changes online. Michael removed the pizza and ate it like an oversized taco. He tried to read but kept losing his place on the same few pages. He left the book on the ground to take a shower. He ate what was left of his pizza and a bowl of instant ramen. He took some pills. He thought to himself, because he felt talking out loud made no difference to him at this point,

“Am I dead? Is this Hell? Is anyone else out there?”

This cycle repeated for five or six more days. Michael couldn't really tell because the food lasted longer than expected, as stressful situations often ruin appetites and his concept of time wavered as he increased his dose of sleeping medication. On what he felt was the sixth day, something new happened.

He woke up and saw the sun was still not yet out. He accepted this a new reality, as though the sun had never existed. He said softly to himself,

“It's always been night time. It's always dark. The moon is always there. I would assume so, but I haven't even looked outside in maybe a week. Is there anything left? I wish I could talk to someone I know. Hell, anyone.”

The phone buzzed to life for the first time in days. It woke again, then slept. And once more. Michael furiously tapped the locked screen to see three messages from names he recognized. He was eager to see if they were alright, or holed up, or if they had any idea what was happening. In the moment he saw his three unread replies, he felt his heart drop into his stomach like a ten ton weight and it knocked him to the ground.

Michael, stunned, saw more messages arrive from his friends, family, and more. Old classmates, ex-girlfriends, coworkers. Within moments, he saw a new message from every contact in his phone. His heart raced. His breath was unsteady. He couldn't think straight. The room spun and felt increasingly small as Michael felt the world he knew had left him behind. He dropped his phone as though his muscles went limp, and promptly fell in a similar fashion. Michael became overwhelmed with questions, the same he'd been asking himself all this time. Was he awake? Was he asleep? Was this real? Is this Hell? Why did he have to be alone? He didn’t want to be alone anymore.

He felt a mental snap similar to the first day of this event and it instantly drew him to three conclusions, among all other possibilities he’d considered. He was either dreaming, stuck in some sort of time loop, or everyone else had looked at the moon and he was the only human left on the planet. Michael believed at this point that nothing he had tried would work and that he needed to take a radically different approach. That was the only way he would know, he thought.

As his decision solidified in his mind, he sat down at his desk and woke up his computer to open a blank text document. He felt, at least, that if he wrote what he could remember from however long this had been happening, that he’d be able to leave something behind if someone found it. He couldn’t stand being alone anymore. He didn’t care about food, water, or hygiene. He just didn’t want to be alone.

He began writing as much as he could from the very beginning up until the last day, or night as it was. He couldn’t tell time anymore, and he knew the sun would not come up, so he didn’t keep track of how long he sat there. Eventually, he got to where he last was. He felt he had done his best. He saved the document, unlocked his computer, and set the display to stay on indefinitely. He felt nothing else left to try. He had to know. He had to see if the night was indeed beautiful.

I’m going to look now.

Signed,

Michael

#art #practice #creative #writing #writing prompt #fiction #short story