#*forgot to include a phrase

[tj-crochets]

I think you should make a pill bug with the Herbert method! Or a millipede or something. Or a butterfly bc it could be cool for the wings?

oh it would be super cool for butterfly wings! Idk much about butterflies, though; are there butterflies with non-symmetrical markings on their wings that are not bilateral gynandromorphs?

[another-whump-sideblog]

Star

Orchard has company often, and she likes to show off her human servant, bragging about what a great deal she got.

Today, there is just one other faery. One with blue hair and eyes that change color every time they blink, and who smells of something Ray has never smelled before. Ray’s never been great with faces, but they think the faery’s facial features keep changing ever so slightly. Ray also can’t tell if the faery is a boy or a girl.

Ray serves them tea, respectfully avoiding eye contact.

“Who’s this?” The faery asks.

“A human I made a deal with. My servant.” Orchard says smugly.

“Ah. And what’s your name, human?”

Ray looks up. Orchard’s friends don’t usually talk to them. “I- Orchard calls me Servant. And what should I call you?”

“You can call me Star. And I’m not going to call you Servant. What about… Anne? That’s a human name, right? Can I call you Anne?”

“You can call me whatever you like.” Ray glances at Orchard, waiting to be told to leave and do some other chore. Orchard doesn’t seem to notice. All of her attention is on watching Star.

“So serious. Geez, what’d you do to them?”

“The human was like that before we made the deal. There are more important things to discuss. Servant, make yourself useful elsewhere.”

Orchard still won’t look away from Star. Ray quietly backs out of the room. If they’re lucky, they can find something to do that will make it look like they worked the whole time, while actually giving them a break.

—

The next time Star shows up, it’s for a big party. Star is the only person who has spoken to Ray with anything but disdain, so they find themself gravitating towards them. They still serve the other guests, of course. They just tend to end up closer to Star when they’re walking around, waiting to be asked to do something.

Ray has to walk a very thin line, showing that they care about the guests’ comfort while also not going beyond normal politeness, as fae will consider that an attempt to put them in debt. It’s exhausting.

“Oh dear, what happened to your poor hands?” Star has finally taken an interest in Ray again and approached them.

“I… mustn’t speak badly of Orchard.”

“Of course, I would never want to jeopardize your position here. I’m sure Orchard’s definition of a proper servant is very strict, and it wouldn’t be beyond her to use a tiny mistake on your end as an excuse to call off the deal. What will you lose if you break the deal, anyway?”

“I shouldn’t say.” Ray can’t think of why sharing the truth would be dangerous off the top of their head, but they’ve learned not to give any information to the fae that isn’t strictly necessary.

“Ah. I see.”

Someone calls for Ray across the room, reminding them they should not be so focused on just one guest.

“I must assist another guest.”

“Right, you’re on the clock. It was nice talking to you, Anne.”

Ray assumes that ‘on the clock’ is some kind of faery saying and puts the strange conversation out of their mind.

—

“I must confess, Anne, I don’t like the way Orchard treats you.”

Star came for some kind or meeting in a room that Ray wasn’t allowed to even get close to, but they’ve somehow ended up talking to Ray, halfway across Orchard’s home. Ray is sure they aren’t supposed to be here, but they know better than to question faeries.

“I am treated well. I am well fed and I have my own living quarters, which are comfortable.” Ray shouldn’t have shared that. Star doesn’t need that information, and they don’t think Star would tell on them for not complimenting Orchard. They’re off their game today.

“Okay, but you’re also, like, ten years old, and she burned your hands.

“I am not ten years old. The burns were usually accidental.” They really should just find a polite way to ask Star to leave them alone, but… they like talking to them.

That’s the problem. Ray has no issue with being evasive with the other faeries, but they don’t want Star to get bored and leave. They want to talk to the only faery who treats them like a person for a bit longer.

“‘Usually accidental?’ So she hurts you on purpose sometimes?”

“I don’t want to discuss this.”

“What do you want to discuss?”

Ray doesn’t want them to leave. They find a way to politely ask what they’ve been wondering for a while. “Should I call you sir, or ma’am?”

Star smiles. “Just call me Star.”

This is not the answer Ray was looking for. “Should I call you he, or she?”

“They.”

Ray doesn’t understand.

“You look confused.” Ray knows they don’t. They have been told by many, many people that their face doesn’t show their emotions correctly.

“I’m not a man or a woman. I’m not multiple people either, but your language’s gender neutral pronoun is also it’s plural pronoun, and you wouldn’t be able to pronounce the pronoun I use in my language.”

“Oh…” Ray feels destabilized in a way they haven’t since they first started serving Orchard. Also, they’re not positive what a pronoun is, though they can guess from context clues. “I didn’t even know you could be not a man or a woman. Is that a fae thing?”

“No, plenty of species have people like me.”

“How do you- how did you know you weren’t a man or a woman?”

Star laughs. Their laugh sounds close enough to someone suffocating to put Ray on edge, but Star seems fine. “It felt wrong to be called a man or a woman. I knew that wasn’t me.”

This is even more confusing to Ray, because neither binary gender has ever felt right to them either, but they’re sure they’re not like Star. Right?

“Hey, can I ask you one question? Then I’ll get out of your hair.”

“You can. I might not answer, though.”

“What year is it?”

Why would Star ask that? “Well, I know time flows differently here, so it’s probably been a few years, and me and Orchard made the deal in 1902, so probably around 1905 or so? I won’t be done with my debt for 60 or 70 years if everything goes right.”

Ray doesn’t understand the face Star is making. “I best get going, then. The others will wonder where I went.”

They hurry back in the direction they came from, leaving Ray very confused.

—

“Anne? Come here.”

It’s just Orchard and Star today, but Orchard left the room to do… something.

“Does Orchard let you care for the burns she gives you? Does she heal them or give you human first aid?”

“…No.”

“That’s what I thought. I got you something.”

Star holds out a small bottle of aloe vera gel. Ray goes to take it but…

“I would be in your debt.”

Star’s pupils change shape, narrowing to slits. They look distinctly… predatory. “Oh, of course. I’m sure you don’t want to be in anyone else’s debt. I’ll just give you an easy task, one you can do quickly, so you won’t be in my debt for long.”

“…you could thank me for giving you tea. Then you’d be in my debt for that and I’d be in your debt for taking the gel, and they’d cancel out.”

Star’s smile is slightly wider than a human’s could be. “I could, I definitely could. But that wouldn’t benefit me, would it?”

Ray knows they should feel upset. Star’s kindness is dependent on it benefiting them. Star doesn’t actually care about Ray’s well-being.

Instead of feeling upset, though, they feel… powerful. They’ve been given a choice, for the first time in a while. And Star has given them a lot of valuable information just by asking for a favor.

“What could I possibly do that would benefit you?”

“I’m sure you overhear a lot of stuff, working for Orchard. I just want to have all the information I can.”

Orchard charges into the room. Ray didn’t hear her coming, they were so focused on Star’s offer.

“Think about it.” Star says.

“Think about what? What are you two talking about?”

Star turns their attention to Orchard. “We were discussing human stuff. Did you know-“

“Ugh, gross. I didn’t invite you here to discuss humans. Servant, leave us.”

Ray does, feeling slightly giddy. Whatever they choose, it will be their choice, and the power that gives them is intoxicating.

—

The next time Ray sees Star, they don’t get a chance to speak. Ray thought that might happen. They slip Star a note.

Most information that would be interesting to you is spoken in faery languages. I would need to understand those to get you information. I also need you to understand that if Orchard caught me, she would consider my insubordination a breaking of the deal, and I would lose something I cannot afford to lose. I do not accept the deal.

Ray can’t just say “I don’t trust you and I’m not accepting the deal.” Star would get bored of them, and they’ve come to rely on the short bursts of positive attention. Ray needs to make sure Star always thinks they’re one convincing argument away from getting what they want, so they don’t decide to try and find someone else to provide information.

—

“Anne.”

Ray wakes up suddenly, heart pounding. Star stands above them.

“I understand that the favor I asked for will mean a lot of risk on your part. I’m willing to negotiate. What would make this worth your while?”

Ray can’t believe what they’re hearing. They get to negotiate?

They shouldn’t just negotiate for something they want, though. They should pick something that would require Star a lot of time, so that they continue talking to Ray.

“…It would be worth it if you could check on my sister for me, and tell me how she’s doing. And give me the aloe vera.”

“Where is your sister?”

“I don’t know. I don’t even know how long it’s been since I last saw her.”

“What does she look like? What’s her name?”

“I’m not telling you her name. She looks very similar to me.”

“Mm. Fine. I’ll find her. Shouldn’t be too hard, with magic. Then you’ll help me?”

“I still don’t understand faery languages.”

“Right! I got you something.” Star hands them a small seashell. “Put that in your ear, and you’ll be able to understand any language. And you can accept it now, because you’ve agreed to our deal already, right? I just need to find your sister before you start your end of the deal.”

Ray shakes their head and tries to give the seashell back. When Star doesn’t take it, Ray drops it. “I have no use for this until it’s my turn to fulfill my end of the bargain. Until then, it’s just a liability. What happens if Orchard sees it?”

Star’s eye twitches. “Of course. Well, I’ll be back when I find your sister.”

Star picks up the seashell and jumps out the window. Ray goes back to sleep.

—

The next time Star visits Orchard is much, much later. They slip Ray a note, this time.

I checked on your sister. I will tell you how she is and give you the aloe vera and hearing device if you agree to help me out.

Ray isn’t sure what to do. They can’t get into debt, but they also can’t lose the only person who’s nice to them. They avoid Star as they mull it over.

—

When Star stormed into the house, Ray was worried they were mad at them. But Star doesn’t seem to notice Ray. They went straight to Orchard and started yelling, switching back and forth between english and a faery language.

Ray listens from only a few feet a way, completely ignored by the faeries, trying to figure out what’s going on. They catch something about “sabotage” and “this isn’t what we discussed” and “do you think you can get away with crossing me? I will make your life a living hell!”

Star storms out as quickly as they came in, but not before shaking Ray’s life one last time. “It’s 2015. Orchard took your sister into the fae realm so she could use you as a servant for longer.”

Star slams the door on their way out. Orchard glares at Ray. “This doesn’t change anything. If you stop serving me, if you break the deal, your sister will die.”

Star has given Ray another choice. They look at Orchard, look at the door, look at Orchard. It’s their choice.

Orchard tricked them. Star only revealed the truth to get back at Orchard, but… it’s more than Orchard ever did.

Ray sprints out the front door, calling for Star. “Where is my sister? Where did Orchard take her? Star!”

But Star is already gone.

[procrastinationaccount]

Not to engage in discourse around a fandom I'm not even actively in, but one scene that stuck with me from the "School for Good and Evil" books, was in (I believe) the second book. Sophie edits a picture of a prince and princess living happily ever after (in an explicitly romantic way ofc) to look like her and Agatha. And Agatha is creeped out by it, even disgusted. First of all, you kissed her

[actiaslunaris]

Kaoru: "Today's lip balm is peach-flavored!" Yukawa: "That sounds delicious." Kaoru: "…" Yukawa: "…" Kaoru: "… You'd like to taste it?" Yukawa: "… Forgive me, please."

I would like to see Utsumi-san picking up on and making fun of Yukawa-sensei's gaffe and both being embarrassed and hiding their unusually red faces. In addition, there may or may not be a counterattack from the professor after this.

[astralis-ortus]

ways to say 'i love you'

✱ a bang chan headcanon

— an awkward phrase for him, so he resorts to showing his affection instead.

w.count → 0.6k genre → fluff. pure fluff because i miss him :( warnings → very minor cussing (is saying ass includes as cussing?), just very domestic chan thingy a.n → again, i'm in my 'missing chan' hours and writing this at 2 in the morning was hopefully enough to lessen some of that feeling (it was not)(also this is absolutely not proofread)(who has the right mind to proofread at 2am AND after a crying sesh?)

chan’s a busy man—but it was never a problem for him to make time for you.

be it on the days where his schedules were dictated down to the second, or even worse—when he’s constantly away, for weeks on end, performing in cities where your days were the exact opposites of his nights, he would always make it a point that you know the thought of you never once leaves his mind.

captioned ‘was going on a stroll and came across this park, heh’ as he sent you a picture of him going on a swing, or ‘look at this giant ass churro!! hahah you’d definitely love it here’ when he went to an amusent park with his members on his day off, thousands of miles away from you. your gallery easily surpasses the tens of thousands count, and it’s all from the way chan remembers you in his mundane, everyday life.

chan would also make a connection between you and the small things around him.

his chunky chrome hearts beanie? yeah, it’s the one you said turned him into the wolfchan plushy he gifted you. his earbuds? oh, you stuck a glittery star shaped sticker on the case so you wouldn’t take the wrong one. his laptop? it still made him giggle when he remembered how panicked you were when he told you the thing wouldn’t turn on, only for him to then realize he just forgot to charge it (and he had to appease you from leaving him on read by promising to call as soon as his rehearsal ends).

even when everything is technically his, chan couldn’t help but leave traces of you in his memories of those things—because for him, everything is better with a touch of you in it.

chan loves taking care of you, but he can’t decide if he loves it more when you’re the one taking care of him.

don’t get him wrong—he’d still try very hard to be the dependable one in your relationship. it’s in his blood, he can’t help it... but what power does he have when you adorably said that you’ve been learning on how to take care of his curls, and how you wanted to try the products that just came in the mail earlier in the day. he’d have no choice but to obediently sit between your legs, taking glances of your furrowed brows through the mirror across while your fingers were busy making sure his hair finally turned into the glorious curls you’ve always longed it to be.

if by letting you take care of him made your eyes turn into the brightest constellation of stars he’s ever seen in his life, then he will forever allow you to take care of him.

also, let’s not forget how chan loves his dose of physical touch.

constantly being away never made the trips any easier for him. if any, the periods of actually being with you made it harder for him to ever leave. imagine going from constantly having your gentle body heat around him, to not having them for an extended period of time? lord, chan would give anything just to be able to feel the way your fingers absentmindedly trace figures on his palm while you were reading your books away, like that one night when you stubbornly decided to accompany his all-nighter attempt at his studio.

chan direly needs your touch—he direly needs you.

and after everything you’ve done for him,

after everything you’ve went through,

chan finally realizes that there’s one sure way to let you know that he loves you.

so the next time you sleepily said you think you’re going to bed,

or when you text him a random meme along with an ‘i miss you’  text on a regular thursday evening,

he’d make sure he didn’t forget to tell you the line

“i love you.”

©️ astralisortus, 2024. | likes and reblogs are highly appreciated♡

[greekmythcomix]

You Are Odysseus

So

I’m a teacher of Classical Civilisation that has taught the Odyssey for over a decade and studied pretty much every myth and story with Odysseus in it.. I think

and I’m writing an Interactive Fiction (choose your own path) version of the Odyssey, inspired by the Homeric phrase “he turned his great heart this way and that”, where you are Odysseus, allowing you to follow his decisions or make your own

and it already has 400 sections to it - written to emulate modern translations of the Odyssey, including the literary features of simile, formula, epithet, and the rest - and 21 different ways to die, and quite a lot of period and theme-appropriate alternatives

(and if I get time, the option to be Telemachus or Penelope, although that might have to wait because it’s already a monster)

and I’ve tested what I’ve made so far on my pupils, other Classics teachers, and some of the leading (and best-read) Greek Mythology podcasters and YouTubers, all of whom have universally loved it (yay!)

(EDIT: Oops and I presented on it at the Classical Association conference last year)

I’m trying to finish it this summer, but need a bit of encouragement to do so

EDIT: and I forgot to say that ideally I’m planning on it being a beautiful BOOK with an old-fashioned cover and lots of ribbons to mark your place ❤️ (ex-bookseller ofc)

so, please let me know if you’d like to know more!

(EDIT: or sign up here go get notified directly when it’s ready: https://ljenkinsonbrown.wordpress.com/you-are-odysseus-signup/ )

[dedalvs]

Hello there! I was wondering if you could possibly translate this quote: (I know it's a different fandom, but I was wondering if you could translate it anyways. I think it would be neat to see it in High Valyrian.)... "Not all who wander are lost."

So listen… I know this wasn't the intent, and I know that you're kind of standing in for tons of people from my past, but like… When people ask to have something translated, do they really not give any thought to the grammatical complexity of what they're asking for? And 100% this is not just you, but like… Embedded clauses, relative clauses, counterfactuals…

Something I didn't realize till I started creating languages for a living is translation is my least favorite part of language creation—and it's what I spend the most time doing.

Okay, so, "Not all who wander are lost". Good lord. First, there's "lost", which has a literal and metaphorical meaning in English. Absolutely no idea if this would translate in High Valyrian, and I'm pretty sure I don't have a word for "lost", and I don't even know how to go about creating one. Spanish perdido essentially comes from "wasted" or "squandered". We know where English "lost" came from. There actually is a word for "to lose" in HV, but it's to lose a battle. Doesn't make sense to use it here. So I'm going with something that kind of evokes that mists that surround destroyed Valyria and use the locative of "fog", so to be sambrarra "in the fog" means "to be lost".

I also don't (or didn't) have a word for "wander", but I made a derivation based on one of my favorite words, elēnagon, which means to oscillate or swerve. Jorelēnagon now means "to wander". Seems to fit.

And that was the easy part. A relative clause is something like "The dragon that I saw is big". "Whoever I saw is big" also features a kind of relative clause—an indefinite relative clause. These things are absolute murder to create. But no. It's not just that. It's a modified indefinite relative, because it's not "Whoever wanders is lost", it's "All who wander are lost". BUT IT'S NOT JUST THAT. It's negated on top of that. NE. GA. TED. And not just in the usual way: It's the Mothra fumbling quantifier that's negated. It's not whoever wanders. It's not all who wander. It's NOT ALL who wander. This is like my nightmare—being asked to translate something like this. This is giving me flashbacks to season 1 of House of the Dragon when they asked me to translated "Would that it were", as if that was some reasonable thing for a human being to say in any language ever.

Anyway, if you type "indefinite relative clause" into my High Valyrian grammar, you come up with nothing, because I always forget to write down how the hell I decided to do them. I think because I have both relative adjectives and pronouns that I can just use the damn pronouns by themselves. God. "Not all…" Are you kidding me?! You know High Valyrian has a whole collective number to handle "all", right? What, do I just negate that? Will the meaning be the same as a negated quantifier?! Like it's [[not all] who wander], right? And you can bracket like that because they're all separate words. But what if "all who" is one word? What then?! BECAUSE THAT'S WHAT IT IS!

(By the way I just added a sentence to my grammar that includes the phrase "indefinite relative clause" so I can search for it. It's not like this wasn't written up, but I honestly probably forgot what the term was when I wrote the section the first time and I never revisited it.)

Okay. I'm calm and cool. So. Returning to the translation. There are two types of relative pronouns: One that refers to people or things, and another that refers to concepts or ideas or places. We're talking about people here, so we need the first one. And we need it in the collective. That's lȳr. Leaving the negation aside, this can be translated fairly easily:

Jorelēnus lȳr sambrarra ilza.

Okay, that's "All who wander are lost". I chose the aorist subjunctive for the relative because it's like "anyone who may wander"; I think it makes sense. Lȳr is grammatically singular, so it triggers third person singular agreement in both verbs. Since we're using ilagon as a locative copula here, I think (think) the present tense makes the most sense. So that is "All who wander are lost".

Now how the flarking frump do you say "not all" when "all who" is lȳr?!

So since lȳr is a pronoun it can be modified with an adjective, which would like like this:

Jorelēnus dōre lȳr sambrarra ilza.

But the problem with that is I don't think it gives us the intended meaning. I think that means "None who wander are lost", and that's not what the intended meaning is at all. It is basically "Some people who wander are indeed lost—perhaps many of them—but some of those who are wandering are not, in fact, lost". This is also why you can't negate the matrix verb. That would mean "Anyone that might be wandering is not lost"—again, not the intended meaning. This is the crux of the whole translation: Negating the quantifier and not what the quantifier is modifying.

For that reason, the only thing I can think to do is to go to a much more prolix, and, frankly, un-Valyrian-like expression. This would mean taking the relative pronoun out of the collective, putting it back in the singular, adding in a quantifier, and negating it. That would be this:

Jorelēnus dōre tolvie lȳ sambrarra ilza.

Is that it? I honestly don't know. It is a translation; I'm not sure if it's the best translation. Another possibility is to re-translate it and say "A few who may wander are not lost". That would look like this:

Jorelēnusy lȳn sambrarra ilosy daor.

The pronoun is now in the paucal, which triggers plural agreement on both verbs. (And, by the way, thank goodness sambrarra is a noun phrase; it doesn't have to agree with anything!) And this is, basically, "A few who may wander are not lost".

I feel like the second translation is better maybe…? It feels more Valyrianesque. But I'm not 100% sure it conveys the same sense.

Anyway, I started translating this a little over two hours ago. That's what this takes. That's how long something this complex takes. Granted, it didn't have my full attention at all times, because I was watching Booksmart, but this was my second time watching it, so I didn't have to give the movie my undivided attention (though it had been a few years; there were bits I didn't remember). But yeah. Translation. My god. Like…why. Creating languages is fun. Translation is work. (And if it's not work, you're doing it wrong. Mic drop; soap box kicked.)

[bitchimasnake-sss]

it got worse ft. choso kamo!

this is part two to my fic "just a distraction". so, i recommend that you read that first lol (but it can be read as a standalone too!)

set-up: after your plan to distract your academic rival backfired so hard, you don't have it in you to seek him out. well, is it a blessing or a curse when he decides he will seek you out instead then?

warnings: PORN WITH PLOT; nsfw thoughts includes cunnilingus, in public, dirty talking. mdni as always :)

"are you serious?" yuuta gave you a skeptical look.

"what?" you defended by hiding your face under a pillow and avoiding your friends' concerned looks.

"i'm sorry but it's the third day you're missing lecture. over a boy. who even are you?" maki continued where yuuta left off.

"she's lovesick, is what she is. or dicksic—" nobara quipped up next.

you threw the pillow at the source of her voice. then, slowly, you looked up at your three friends, who stood there as if observing an animal in the zoo. except this wasn't a zoo, it was your dorm room. and the animal under surveillance was you.

"this was all your plan!" you pointed at nobara accusingly.

"my plan was to go fuck choso's brain out so that you can get an edge over him in academics. my plan wasn't for you to develop a crush on his weird ass."

"i don't have a crush on him!" you tried to cool off your burning face by fanning it, "i just can't see him again. what am i gonna say?? hey choso remember the day i came over during break like a month ago and you went down on me? i can't fucking stop thinking about that or about you! what are your thoughts on that, choso hm?"

"well, when you phrase it so pathetically-"

yuuta cut off the green-haired athlete lest she say something downright stupid, "see, i am sure choso won't bring it up either. he hasn't made an effort to like text you or anything. it's been a whole month, i am sure he doesn't really care all that much?"

"ughh. how is that consoling to hear? that means whatever happened between us probably sucked."

"well you did suck—"

"—nobara!"

"point being." yuuta reasoned, "you need to go to class. gojo sensei is a serious drama queen. he'd probably mark your grade down because you're missing classes for seemingly no reason. and that'll affect your grades.

you groaned and yuuta continued, "just go to class. and if you see choso, avoid him. i am sure he won't come seeking you out."

"fine."

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

well, this was going okay, you guess? i mean, gojo sensei did 100% make weird jokes about your absence in front of the entire class but thus far, nothing else was amiss. choso was holed up in his regular seat near the window far to your left and hadn't been looking at you from what you could notice.

fuck. truly the only one getting distracted was you.

so, halfway through the lecture (that you couldn't pay attention to anyways), you decided you would confront choso and ask him why he didn't text you back or something.

so, you waited till class was over. standing outside the gate, you waited for the raven-haired man to come out so that you could confront him. but the moment he actually started coming towards the door, your feet took you by their own accord. you ran through the hallways and into the library.

that's right, maybe you should catch up on the studying you missed? self-study truly is the best study after all? and not like choso will come hunting you down here, in the library. so, you chose to go take a seat in your usual spot, the one farthest and where nobody came to disturb you.

sighing, you took our your laptop and notebook, setting it down on the table. you took a deep breath and decided you could deal with him when you were ready-

"why did you bolt off when you saw me?" choso asked as he dragged the chair next to you and sat down. he dropped something heavy on the desk and you noticed from the corner of your eye that it was the book you had taken over to his under the pretense of studying.

"thanks for the book. i forgot i left it at yours."

liar.

you had left it at his so you could go back and get it. and the day you went back, hopefully, choso would have remembered some of the steam and gotten you into his bed again.

but you never went and he never called.

"no worries. i was surprised how you would be able to do integrals without it." he stretched his limbs, muscles shifting under the thin material of his shirt. he then propped his right elbow on the wooden table. resting his face on his palm, he looked at you, "why were you missing lectures?"

"personal issues." you replied without looking away from your laptop screen. as if typing your assignment furiously will make him disappear into thin air.

"ah, okay. i thought you got sick or something."

if you were braver, you would have said it out loud. but you were a coward, so, you mumbled, "if you were so worried, you could have texted me or something."

you obviously didn't expect for him to hear that.

"we're not friends. it would have been awkward. what would have people thought if they realized i'm texting the second best student at uni?"

you whipped your face to look at his. but all your anger melted away when you took in his features. his tired eyes, the tattoo on his nose. did he cut his hair? it was slightly shorter, you think? whatever, he was still a dick.

-and dick reminds you...

"i-" you looked at your screen again, hands stilling against the keyboard and resting on the plastic keycaps, "even if we aren't friends. why didn't you text me? was- idk. like, was our last time so bad? even if it was, it's not a gentle-manly thing to do! to ghost a fucking girl out of nowhere!"

"i thought it was a one time thing." he replied back easily, still looking at your bunched features, "i thought you had some built up frustration after seeing the result and you had come take your mind off of it."

"so, what are you saying? was it just 'nother quick fuck session with your classmate? you shoved your pen in his direction, a direct attack by invading his private space. your face scrunched up in disgust, "you do this frequently? am i just the newest addition to the roster?"

as your gaze tangled with his, the sheer intensity in his eyes sent a shiver through your system. he quirked an eyebrow up, his lips pressed into a thin line. the pen slipped past your light grasp and under the desk.

"do you know you're ruining my life?" his eyes searched for yours then travelled down to your lips, "you're actually ruining my fucking life."

and he knelt down.

"choso wh-" your eyes widened as his arm reached under the desk, looking for your pens as his gaze remained trained on you.

adjusting his position, he moved till he was under the desk, hidden by the chair and your legs in front of him. once he found the pen, his sleek fingers pulled his hair back. he carefully tied his flowing hair with your pen.

looking up at you, his igniting touches dragged upwards from your knee to the hem of your skirt.

"wh- what are you doing?" you bit down your lip are his fingers travelled inwards, caressing your inner thigh agonizingly slow.

his forearms pulled your body towards him till you were barely seated on the edge. looking around maniacally to spot any other person, you looked back down at the sight in front of you.

his hair was pulled back, arms around your thighs and tongue licking a clean strip from your mid-thigh. slowly moving upwards, his hot breath danced over your drenched panties.

pressing a chaste kiss to your thighs. giving you a small (almost innocent) smile, he whispered, "i think i should return the favour. be a gentleman, hm?"

his thumb swiped over the wet fabric. the slick allowed him to rub over the swollen nub while his other hand found his erect dick. he bit back a groan as he palmed himself through the sweats.

"choso, stop mhmm no-" you whined as he pushed the fabric aside and swiped over your clit. the pad of his thumb moved methodically- going up and down, to the sides and in tight circular motion- while his lips pressed innocent kisses all over your thighs.

"cho~ nghh someone is gonna see us, plea-please stop—"

"shut up then. go back to your assignment. let's pretend i'm not even here, yeah?"

"chosoo—" you whined slowly, looking around again to see no one was around. once you were thorough with your inspection, you found yourself meeting his sinful gaze, rutting your hips in sync with his calloused fingers.

"—look up or people are gonna get suspicious." he stilled for a second, letting his words register in your head. when he refused to move his deft fingers against your pulsing heat, you finally took your eyes off him. training your eyes at the screen instead, you ignored his rough treatment on your clit.

kissing your soft skin, his fingers played with your drenched core. you closed your eyes, feeling his heavy weight against you body. he sucked on your skin and then looked up at you to give you a lewd look. something between a smug smile and a feral, animalistic desire.

"that's right, just do your work okay? i'm gonna handle the rest." he whispered against the blossoming bruise, "trust me when i say that it's taking everything inside me to not fuck you right here, right now."

his lips ghosted over your clitoris as his fingers dipped inside of you. the hot breath set your body on fire as his slim digits played against your inner mechanics. finally, he placed a soft kiss o your twitching, swollen nub and you chose to bite down on your lips instead on moaning his name out.

your hips burned against the wood. your forehead was getting damper and damper with each leisurely lick. and every attempt of writing a word of your assignment was just another incoherent jamble, fueled by his fucked up fantasies.

your pelvis rolled with his finger and the ache built up in your stomach as he went faster and faster against you, still whispering sweet nothings as if honey was his own language.

the ache built and built and built and you closed your eyes as your orgasm finally washed over you like waves. you tucked your head under your arms, resting your forehead against the cool, wooden desk as you silently screamed out.

his fingers slowed down their assault on your twitching body and he pressed one last kiss to your quivering thighs before removing his fingers. fixing your underwear and cleaning off the nectar on his fingers, he climbed up again.

you cocked your head sideways to look at him. he flashed you a grin before taking the pen out and handing it back to you, "here you go. you should be careful with your belongings"

you rolled your eyes, "fuck off."

and he gave you another large smile, relishing in your huffs and jitters.

pulling yourself back up, you truly thought he'd walk away now that you had cum over his fingers. i mean what else was left? he had come and ruined your concentration. he had won at your game. so what else now? why wasn't he leaving?

"uhm" you gave him a skeptical look, "aren't you gonna go now?"

he raised an eyebrow, dragging the chair closer next to you, "want me gone so soon?"

you turned around to face him. you could feel the steam physically rise out of your face out of sheer embarrassment. "i mean i thought we were just... like? you know—"

"—fuck buddies or something?"

"i mean yeah?"

"i don't think we can be fuck buddies. or friends with benefits." when your face fell, he gave you an honest smile, "'cause we aren't exactly friends... and we haven't exactly fucked."

a blush crept up your throat at his ease over such depraved words, "right, yeah."

"but." he dragged his chair outwards and stood up, "we can be. friends, i mean." he looked away from you, pausing. "i mean, i'll text you maybe?"

"maybe?"

"maybe." he tucked in the chair inwards to it's actual position. then his fingers drummed along the wooden chair, "i am still not sure if i wanna be friends with my rival, you know?"

"oh, fuck off."

he started walking away, giving you a last smile over his shoulder, "i'll text you."

you bit back a smile of your own, "i'll wait."

a/n: tempted to make a third part (and finish off the story with a sweet, nice bow) but idk if i should lol. part three is up! hope you enjoy!! tagging: @somejojofanlol @little-art-addiction @seaweed-empire @basilgardener @rkiveinmarvel

[hotvintagepoll]

LAST POLL OF ROUND 4

Propaganda

Anouk Aimée (La Dolce Vita, Lola)—I went to look at pictures of Anouk Aimée to inspire me to write some propaganda, but then I got too distracted by how pretty she was, forgot what I was doing and just kept on looking at more pictures with no thoughts going through my mind except "wow....women beautiful.." But I will say that Anouk Aimée is one of the most stunning actresses I've ever seen. I mean, her eyebrows, her nose, her charming smile, her cheekbones... I'm sorry I got distracted looking at pictures of her again. Anyway, she's so pretty and captivating on screen!!!! Vote for her!!!!!!

Pearl Bailey (Carmen Jones, St. Louis Blues, Porgy and Bess)—vintage crush of all time, the most beautiful woman I've ever seen, and my GOD the PIPES! She wasn't in nearly enough movies, but every time I see her I'm aghast all over with what a gorgeous woman she was. Vote Pearl for diva glamor like no one else! (also....she was on the Muppet Show!)

This is round 4 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Pearl Bailey propaganda:

"Pearl Bailey was an absolute POWERHOUSE! She's best known for her career in music and theater (she's a DIVINE singer, and very funny). But she also did several feature films, including a controversial adaptation of Porgy and Bess (controversial because of the story; the actors were pretty much coerced into it). She's got a style all her own, you can recognize it from a mile away. She's got you chuckling and crying from one phrase to the next. I love her <3"

"Cheekbones to die for"

Anouk Aimée:

Linked gifset

[blacknedsoul-blog]

A detailed explanation from my headcanon that Annabel has ADHD

So I had this six fucking hour trip. On a bus. Alone. And I was bored out of my mind, because sitting around being bored is as close to mental torture as it gets for me.

Fortunately, the light at the end of the tunnel: I was inspired. Away from the burnout I have with fanfics, I remembered that I've mentioned this headcanon several times on Nevermore's Discord and just thought, what better time to talk about ADHD than when I'm having a pretty ADHD moment?

But before I start, there are a few little things that need to be pretty clear on the table:

I'm being a bit hypocritical here: in general, I'm deeply against diagnosing fictional characters for two reasons: first, it's an impossible task to distinguish between character traits and symptoms to such an extent that you can go around forever without coming to a real conclusion unless the author of the work confirms it, and second, even if you have the disorder you're talking about, you can fall into the trap of perpetuating stereotypes or generalizing, thereby invalidating other experiences. So even if the tone of this review sounds very assertive, it is because of my writing style. I am in no way diagnosing Annabel; this is an analysis of her character through the lens of a possible disorder.

In relation to the above, where I point out an event in the comic that can be read as a symptom, I am not reducing it to "this only happens because she has ADHD". You CAN'T reduce a person's personality to "they has a disorder," and when I point out these examples, I'm not doing so with the intention of denying the background behind it, but rather pointing out how, under the magnifying glass of having it, it might exacerbate that behavior.

I am NOT a psychologist, a psychiatrist, or a neurologist: I am a woman with ADHD. One who has done a lot of research on the subject, been in therapy with a psychologist who specializes in the disorder, and talked extensively about it both with friends who also have it and with professionals. But I don't have a career in mental health, I don't pretend to, and everything you'll read below is a mixture of research and personal experience.

You're going to see a lot of "we" or "those of us with ADHD" because, as I said, I have it too, but this is all a generalization made for the sake of flow. The symptoms of this disorder can be expressed in many different ways, and not everyone has all of them (for example, there are some that I don't have, but it would be strange to change the voice of the text just because of that, it makes it harder to read). If you have ADHD and read a symptom and think "hey, I don't get that", that's perfectly normal. Your experience is valid and I don't want to pass it on. But it would be exhausting for me and for the reader to use tentative phrases all the time.

If this text resonates too much with you, I strongly recommend that you see a professional, if you're able, and not self-diagnose: ADHD has many symptoms in common with autism and other neuro divergences, don't risk misdiagnosis.

If you have a different opinion than mine on this subject and want to share it with me, I'll be happy to read it, if I don't answer it's because I forgot (forgive me?). But you can be sure that I will read it.

Anyway, let's get started.

What is ADHD?

According to the NIH (National Institute of Mental Health) website, this is the definition of ADHD:

Attention-deficit/hyperactivity disorder (ADHD) is marked by an ongoing pattern of inattention and/or hyperactivity-impulsivity that interferes with functioning or development. People with ADHD experience an ongoing pattern of the following types of symptoms:

Inattention means a person may have difficulty staying on task, sustaining focus, and staying organized, and these problems are not due to defiance or lack of comprehension.

Hyperactivity means a person may seem to move about constantly, including in situations when it is not appropriate, or excessively fidgets, taps, or talks. In adults, hyperactivity may mean extreme restlessness or talking too much.

Impulsivity means a person may act without thinking or have difficulty with self-control. Impulsivity could also include a desire for immediate rewards or the inability to delay gratification. An impulsive person may interrupt others or make important decisions without considering long-term consequences.

Here is an impression that needs to be clarified: ADHD is more about an inability to regulate attention than a lack of it. A neurotypical person may choose to focus on a task to get it done, we may procrastinate to death because even if we want to, we can't focus on it, or stand there absorbed in it ad infinitum until the house falls down around us (and we may still have trouble noticing). This is understood, Understanding all this, here is the list of Annabel's behaviors that could be interpreted as symptoms.

Hyperactivity

One thing that not everyone knows is that hyperactivity is not about running around like an uncontrolled animal. It can manifest itself in many ways, and there are many types: physical, mental, and even emotional.

In Annabel's case, she seems to be the first two types.

Perhaps due to her difficulty in expressing emotions, it is quite obvious at this point in the comic that her moods are made explicit through gestures: playing with her rings when she is happy or nervous, touching the ribbon around her neck in moments of anxiety, or playing with her hair almost as a default state.

Annabel.

Doesn't.

Sit.

Still.

Never.

It is also clear that Annabel is always planning something. Always.

This can be read into the logic of mental hyperactivity: when you have it, your brain just doesn't stop. Ever. And that's something that resonates with this lady.

Emotional Dysregulation

The part of the brain that regulates our moods works…erratically. Not to say it doesn't work at all.

This leads to a painfully common problem in women with ADHD: lack of emotional regulation is seen as drama, and instead of being taught tools to deal with it, we are taught to repress and bottle up emotions.

Annabel has highly internalized this as a defense mechanism. But here's the thing: if repressing emotions instead of learning how to deal with them in a healthy way is harmful, being biologically unable to regulate them can be even worse.

It touches the right nerves, and if you catch us flying low, it can cause explosive outbursts.

Possibly violent reactions to feeling offended or uncomfortable.

Or completely over-the-top reactions that we can't control.

And it's not just anger that's affected, it's the whole emotional spectrum. Another emotion that is very noticeable is fear. If we don't develop tools to help us calm down, we don't get scared, we panic.

If this happens too often, we can become prone to developing severe anxiety or frequent attacks.

We may also have great difficulty dealing with frustration. Our brains love rewards, and feeling that we're not getting them because of our own inability to do something can be downright annoying. And if we don't have the tools to express our frustration appropriately, we can have quite childish reactions, ranging from temper tantrums to…pouting.

I find it funny how several of these pouts are caused by Lenore, a bit like "Oh, come on, honey, what are we talking about?"

Another important thing to note here is that one of the most fucked up and notorious symptoms of this lack of emotional regulation is RSD, short for Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria, defined as "a problem that interferes with your ability to regulate your emotional responses to feelings of failure and rejection. While rejection is almost always unpleasant, people with RSD experience overwhelming levels of emotional pain. This can lead to long-term mental health problems, fear of failure, and behavioral changes that negatively affect them throughout their lives."

Rejection and fear of failure are a problem for us. So much so that we may seek strategies to avoid it as much as possible, even when it causes us problems (such as not completing a task for fear of doing it wrong). This is an issue that can tear us apart emotionally.

Annabel is terrified of being rejected or despised. Her whole life has been built around appearances and getting the right people interested in her. If she can't do that, what good is she?

And that's something that comes up a lot in her relationship with Lenore. Repeatedly, in fact, but my favorite has to be this one:

Annabel thought it would be the smart thing to do to break that bond because she knows they're never going to see each other again. But the look on her face when Lenore calls her a "damn liar" is just painful to watch. I think ripping her heart out with a rusty spoon would have hurt less.

Finally, on the subject of things that aren't so funny: that thing Annabel does about biting her fingers when she's in a critical situation is something I used to do, too (only I'd bite my knuckles or palms).

My psychologist explained to me that when you feel like you're losing control, you immediately look for something to ground you, and unfortunately, physical pain is often a quick (if damaging) way to do that.

Codependency

Okay, here's a thing: it's not that we have a tendency as such to codependency, but this is a situation that can occur due to bad practices within a relationship. Especially a couple one.

As it stands out, people with ADHD can have a lot of problems with micromanaging ourselves, remembering things, dealing with our emotions, etc, etc, etc. And it is natural for close friends, family or our partner to help in those processes.

The problem arises when that help starts to become a parentification process where the partner who is providing support starts to do this on behalf of the other person, infantilizing them in the process.

This is a cocktail for resentment on both sides: the party calling the shots can easily feel that the other is putting a huge burden on their shoulders and not trying hard enough, while, on the other side, no one likes to feel like they are being treated like a child. Let alone that the person doing it is your partner.

But at the other end of resentment, there's codependency.

The constant feeling that you are a burden, insufficient or even disposable.

And that means you have a lot to make up for. On a regular basis. So much that you put yourself in a situation where you have to make horrible decisions so that someone else doesn't have to because somehow you owe it to them, who hasn't had that happen?

What I mean is that yes, Annabel feels like she owes this to Lenore because she only remembers the part where Lenore came kicking in doors to save her from a marriage she didn't want. And if she can't do this for her, she doesn't deserve a relationship.

Feeling inadequate, that your partner is doing you some kind of favor by tolerating you and ending up idealizing their in the process is obviously not unique to the neurodivergent experience.

But we try, we try really hard and, like anyone else, we like to feel that the effort we put in is seen and valued.

If we are not careful about that, we do indeed fall into the risk of becoming codependent. The desire to feel loved or valued becomes a constant hunger for validation from which it is difficult to escape because we are aware that our brain will never function in a different way. And if that is mixed with RSD, it can become an even bigger problem.

Novelty, games, challenges, and rewards

Producing dopamine on a normal basis is one thing our brains aren't very good at (one of the reasons we can be prone to depression, for example), but you know what they love? Challenges and rewards.

New things feed our endless curiosity, but for some reason unknown to me, our brains really love challenges and dares. They give us dopamine like we're on a high.

So much so that some people use it as a tactic to perform tasks they don't like: "How many dishes can I wash before my dinner is ready?", "If I can finish this in less than 30 minutes, I can go get chocolate."

One medium we may like very much for this reason is games. Board games, card games, or virtual games. It doesn't matter. Games provide a very good balance of challenge and reward.

If you see that Annabel seems overly interested in how this works, it's because there may be a part of her that thinks "aside from the deadly situation we're in…this is like the most hardcore escape room ever" and inevitably there's something here that stirs her bug.

It may be something she loves about Lenore. As a good hypocrite, Annabel despises the rules she knows so well, so when Lenore comes along with this gimmick and completely changes the paradigm of what she knows, there is inevitably something that appeals to her. Others who are good at the game look down on Lenore's disdain for the rules, to Annabel it is fucking appealing because it offers a range of unexplored possibilities that she fucking loves.

Erratic Communication

When our brains are running at full speed, communication can become a challenge, and we tend to exhibit erratic patterns.

One of these is info-dumping. Touch a topic we know about or are interested in and it's like stepping on a landmine: we explode talking about it. Non-stop. You'll have to hit us to shut us up.

Another thing is that we can have a bad habit of interrupting. A lot. It's not malicious, it's just that we're really into the conversation and want to participate as much as possible.

That said, even if we're extroverts, it can be a nightmare to withhold information or participate in a conversation if it doesn't grab our attention. It's not that we want to be disrespectful or anything, it's just that, again, we have no control over our ability to pay attention and we're swimming against the tide to hold on to whatever it is you're telling us.

This scene is something I've seen in friends with ADHD and have been told I do: stare at people while doing your best to do the hamster run to remember what they're telling you because you know it's important, even though your brain is putting it together with junk information because it's not engaging your attention in the right way.

Ignore the murderous stare part, it's not that common - at least I hope not.

Drinks that are like a pill

Our brains are not designed to produce certain hormones naturally or, in some cases, they produce them under other circumstances. For things like that, we can take pills, develop strategies to help our brains produce hormones.

And drink coffee. Lots of coffee.

Caffeine can be extremely relaxing for us because it can actually help our brains keep functioning, you know that stereotype of the highly coded ADHD character who drinks coffee like it's his life? Well, that's because.

You know what other beverage has a similar effect? Tea. Theine is also a natural activator, perhaps less aggressive than coffee, but it can have a similar effect.

If you're interested in describing this topic in fanfic or touching on it in fanart, tea should have a relaxing effect on Annabel and even help her concentrate.

Boredom

We get bored. A lot. And we get painfully bored. Here's what happens: boredom is caused by a lack of stimulation, and our brains aren't stimulated just because we can't regulate our attention to seek out that stimulation.

Add to that the fact that when we are bored, without dopamine hitting our receptors, our executive functions diminish and we function like shit.

Boredom

Is

Fucking

Murder

Because our brain starts desperately asking for dopamine and we can fall into really unhealthy behaviors like fighting, being chronically online, or eating because we can't find anything better to do. This also contributes -again- to our depression or anxiety.

Conclusions (and if I don't make the joke, I'll die)

In the book ADHD After Dark (a study of ADHD, relationships, and physical intimacy), Ari Tuckman draws some interesting conclusions, one of which is that on a statistical level, people with ADHD seem to be more likely to have what he calls "sexual eagerness": kinks, fetishes, a tendency to be adventurous in bed, and the like. Again, our brains love play, and both intimacy and flirtation can involve a lot of it.

So…

Um…

…well, I think Lenore will be happy. Good for her.

Anyway, this has been a seriously long explanation. Thanks for reading this far.

[babyspacebatclone]

Picked up a yarn project again today, immediately found a mistake, and it make me think about how some people complain about fan terms.

Like, the entire “Why do you think you’re so special you get to just make up words to mean things that have words already?”

Which is of course silly, ask anyone getting a Masters degree in any specialization and there’s a ton of field-specific terminology and phrases that mean something exceptionally specific to them but are confusing to others.

Me? I was giggling at the terms knitters and crocheters use, simply because we can.

Case in point? Frog and Tink, both verbs, both meaning something everyday but with specific meaning to people who know what they are.

“To Frog” is to yank on your yarn of a crochet or knit project and unravel however many stitches - you “rip it, rip it!!”

“To Tink” is a more controlled form of unraveling exclusive to knitting, which is literally knitting in reverse (k.n.i.t. -> t.i.n.k.).

“Well, why not just say rip it out or unravel?”

First of all, you tink and frog in different situations: tinking is safer but takes a ton of time and effort, while frogging runs the risk of ruining a work if you’re not careful but is the only practical way to undo multiple rows.

Secondly, these terms are fun! Going backwards in a project because you made a mistake is a pain no one actually wants to do, so croaking out “rip it, rip it!” while you watch an hour’s worth of work dissolve into a tangle of kinked yarn helps.

Thirdly, it’s a sign of community. You know someone has spent time in knitting or crocheting culture to have encountered these terms - a badge of honor, of having committed to a project enough to being willing to redo to that extent.

So have your slang. Have your fun little phrases that have nuance.

It’s literally English.

Unless you happen to think the terms “To hit someone” and “To hit on someone” mean the same thing.

Edit: Forgot to include this! A link to a page with instructions on how to best safely Frog and Tink, where I took those pictures.

[cuubism]

PLEAAE write dreamling pregnancy crackfic you MUST and PLEASE include Sad Crying I Forgor cat dream

Behold, lovely anons, some nonsense.

---

“Um, Dream,” says Hob, staring at the tiny plastic stick sitting on his bathroom countertop, “what is that.”

Dream comes to stand behind him, peering over his shoulder. “It is a pregnancy test.”

“Yeah, why?” Hob picks it up, squinting down at it. “And why is it negative?”

He realizes a second later that the first question out of his mouth should, in fact, have been why the fuck do you have a pregnancy test? Unless it’s not Dream’s and someone just broke into his flat and left it there, which might actually be less weird.

“Presumably because I am not human,” says Dream.

Hob puts the test down. Turns around, takes Dream by the shoulders, and steers him out of the bathroom. Once they’re back in the living room, he means to say a number of things, but all that comes out of his mouth is, “What.”

“The test does not work because I am not human,” Dream repeats. He’s definitely being deliberately obtuse now, if he wasn’t before.

A million questions swirl in Hob’s mind, and a rising swell of panic. He mentally shakes himself. Forces himself to get it together. He’s not a seventeen-year-old kid who got a girl pregnant. He can handle his shit.

He holds Dream still by the arms. Tilts his head until Dream meets his eyes. “Dream, do you have something that you want to tell me? In words, maybe?”

Unless he doesn’t know. But he’s like, a concept, how could he not know?

Wait, is this why Hob was having random dreams about babies last week? He is going to kill this man.

Well, he’s going to give him a hug first. Then he’s going to kill him.

Dream looks into his eyes. Oh God, he’s serious now. So this wasn’t all just for kicks, not that Dream really does things for kicks, anyway. “Hob, I am—”

Hob hauls him into an embrace before he can finish the sentence. Perhaps he should let Dream say it. But he can’t not hug him.

Dream relaxes into his hold. Hob hadn’t realized how tense he was until he did. Oh, poor thing. Just because they’re not young people floundering about on the precipice of adulthood doesn’t mean it’s not stressful. Especially that in between moment, when he knows, and Hob doesn’t.

“I have known for a few weeks now,” Dream says, face pressed to Hob’s shoulder. “Are you upset?”

“No, of course not.” Upset? He’s having their child and Hob’s upset? He supposes they didn’t exactly plan it, but, when has he ever planned anything when it comes to Dream?

He pulls back at last, kisses Dream’s temple, and steers him over to sit down on the couch. He sits beside him, their knees touching. Takes Dream’s hand and squeezes it. “If you already knew, then why did you bother to use the test?”

“I was curious if it would work,” says Dream.

Somehow, Hob doesn’t think that’s the whole truth. “Please tell me you weren’t just going to leave it somewhere and let me guess?”

“I would have crafted some more dreams as well,” Dream says. Blasted idiot. Why is Hob in love with him? Oh yeah, because he’s even more of an idiot.

“Wasn’t picking up on it,” Hob says. “I didn’t think this was possible, to be honest. We’ve just been recklessly having unprotected sex for how long? And you never thought to mention this was a possibility?”

“I forgot,” Dream says morosely, the most pitiable frown on his face. “It is not as straightforward as it is for humans. But yes, it is possible. Evidently. I suppose I have been caught up in the… joy of our moments together. I have not had a lover in a long time.”

“Oh, love.” Hob holds him close, rubbing a hand up and down his back. “It’s alright. It’s my fault, really. I should have asked. Wrap it before you tap it, Hob.”

Dream wrinkles his nose at the phrasing. Hob kisses him on the tip of his nose.

“Maybe I was thinking about it a little bit,” Hob admits. The thought has definitely… crossed his mind, before. And it’s easy to get drawn in, when Dream is in his bed, when he looks so gorgeous, when Hob makes love to him and fills him and—

Oh, this is his fault. This is absolutely his fault. He’d thought it was a safe fantasy to indulge in, impossible in reality. Meanwhile he was fucking one of the few beings made of both fantasy and reality at once. Hob’s really the king idiot.

“A little bit?” echoes Dream, raising an eyebrow.

Hob cringes. “A lot a bit?”

Unexpectedly, Dream smiles. “You are happy, then.”

Hob goes still, staring at him. “Did I not say?”

“You expressed that you were not upset,” says Dream. “Which is not the same thing as being happy.”

“Oh, sweetheart, I’m sorry.” Hob holds him closer, kisses his cheek, his brow, the corner of his lips. “I love you so much. I’m so happy.”

“Truly?”

Hob kisses him on the lips this time, long and deep. Takes Dream’s face in his hands and caresses his cheeks. “Truly. Obviously.”

Dream hums, sounding pleased.

“Are you happy?” Hob asks. Though he suspects Dream would have been rather obvious in his displeasure if he wasn’t, he usually is.

“I believe so,” says Dream carefully. “I… would like to be. Only, I have failed before, when I had a child.” Hob pulls far enough away to look at him. Dream’s expression has twisted now. “I do not wish to repeat that.”

“You won’t.” Dream looks unconvinced, so Hob repeats it. “You won’t. You’ve learned from that. So have I.” Hob certainly made many of his own mistakes with Robyn. But he still wants to try again.

“There are many terrible endings to this story,” Dream says. Of course, Hob’s just looking at the beginning of the thing, and Dream’s looking at the whole arc, especially the end.

“And good ones,” Hob says. “I promise. I’ll do everything I can to make it good.”

“I do believe that,” says Dream, finally offering him a small smile. “You have been able to make many things good for me when I thought it impossible.”

That might just be the greatest success of Hob’s life. To make Dream see that things can be good.

“It will be good,” he vows. “You’ll see, darling.” And Dream smiles again.

Hob lays his hand over Dream’s lower belly. He doesn’t know if this pregnancy even has a physical component at all—Dream himself barely has a physical component sometimes—but it’s instinct to hold him there.

Hob can already feel himself wanting to coddle him. He’s going to have to stop himself from doing that, he highly doubts Dream will appreciate it. He has to remind himself that what happened with Eleanor won’t happen again this time, that modern medicine is so much better, and that Dream isn’t even human in the first place. For all he knows, the baby will just be born out of the clouds.

“Hob,” says Dream. “You are drifting.”

Hob shakes himself. “Sorry, love.”

“What were you thinking of?” Dream presses, brow pinching. “I felt the nature of the daydreams turn… darker.”

Hob grimaces. “It’s really nothing. Just me in my head, you know.”

Dream keeps looking at him expectantly.

Hob sighs. “It’s just, it didn’t go so well last time, with Eleanor, you know? And I know this is different, you’re different, so just be patient with me if start being a mother hen, yeah?”

“Hob…” Dream takes his hand, interlacing their fingers. “I’m sorry, I had not considered. Do you not want…?”

“No! I do want this. I just worry, is all.” He kisses Dream’s cheek. “It’s because I love you. Couldn’t bear the thought of something happening to you.”

“I must do what I can to make it good, then,” Dream says, and Hob smiles at the turnabout of his words. “You need not worry. There is no danger to me. And the baby is not human, besides.”

"It's not?" Hob supposes it's not that much of a surprise. "What is it, then?"

“I am not quite sure. I expect it will become evident soon.” He rests his hand over Hob’s, which is still on his stomach, and he looks fond now. “Perhaps once I can see its dreams.”

“You can see its dreams?”

Dream casts him an amused look. “I am made up of those dreams. And all others. Why should our baby be different?”

Our baby. It’s so affecting to hear him say it like that.

“Our baby,” Hob repeats, just for the sound of it.

“Yes,” says Dream. He sounds properly happy now, which is so lovely to hear. “Ours.”

“Well, now I’m glad we forgot to talk about magical birth control,” Hob says. “Irresponsible sex for the win! Now I get to meet our magical baby.”

“I have never known you to be a man particularly driven by responsible decision-making,” Dream says solemnly.

Hob gapes at him. “Hey!” It’s true, though. It’s all true. “I’ll be the most responsible parent you ever saw. I’ll only let them have the iPad for twenty-three hours a day instead of twenty-four.”

“I can create fantastic spectacles to which the likes of ‘Cocomelon’ cannot hope to compare,” Dream says indignantly, as if this was really an open question in Hob’s mind.

“You can be in charge of screen time, then,” Hob tells him, and Dream’s scowl shifts into a smile.

“When do I need to be ready for this?” Hob asks. “Is it like a nine months thing, or…?”

“Unclear,” says Dream. Fantastic. Typical. For all Hob knows, Dream will show up with a whole baby in his arms tomorrow. Either that or it’ll be a hundred years from now. “I suspect there will be an element of surprise.”

Of course. Dream’s sense of time passing is pretty bad at the best of times, why would the baby be any different?

“I’ll have to get to the shops, then, seeing as I don’t currently own an iPad,” Hob says.

Dream hands him one that definitely was not in existence a moment ago.

“Did you get that—”

“From a dream, yes.”

Hob stares at it in wonder for a moment, wondering if it even has normal apps, or strange ones only dreamt of, then sets it on the coffee table. “Well, Christmas shopping with you will be a cinch.”

Dream is quiet for a moment. “I would not wish to burden you with these things,” he finally says. “To upend your life when you are already well-occupied.”

“Nope, none of that.” Hob takes Dream’s hands and pulls them close. “First of all, I’m very old and can afford to buy a lot of iPads, so don’t worry about it. But more than that, I love you.” He taps Dream’s belly, though he still doesn’t know exactly how or where this not-human baby is meant to grow. “And you. So don’t think like that. I know I can’t expect a nine-to-five, normal daily schedule from you. I’ve never expected that from you.” As of now, Dream just visits whenever he can, often at odd hours. Hob doesn’t expect he’ll be able to change that much, even now. He is still Dream above all else.

Dream doesn’t deny it, either. He looks down at their joined hands. “Would that it were otherwise.”

Hob rubs his thumb back and forth over his knuckles. “It’s okay. I needed some new excitement in my life anyway. Besides—” he gestures to the dream-iPad—DreamPad? Dream will hate that name, so Hob will definitely have to use it—“even if we can’t always have you, we’ll have your stories, hm?”

Dream smiles, then, a fragile smile. “I suppose that’s true.”

“Course it is.” Hob kisses his cheek. “We’ll figure it out, love. Don’t worry.”

“That is one skill you certainly do possess,” says Dream—in contrast, Hob supposes, to his lack of rational decision-making. “‘Figuring it out.’”

“My PhD is in Winging It,” Hob agrees. “Speaking of, though, we are going to have to have an actual talk about how not to have another ‘surprise’.”

“Yes,” Dream agrees ruefully. He seems quite embarrassed about it, actually, and Hob can’t help but hug him again, squeezing him tight, kissing his cheek and temple. Despite the shock and confusion, Hob really is happy, powerfully so. A baby, his and Dream’s baby. He can’t even imagine the possibility of it.

Dream squirms under the attention, but hums, seeming pleased deep down.

“A little baby Dream,” Hob sighs. “They will be a terror.”

Dream raises an eyebrow. “And you think your influence has no effect on that?”

“I was a delightful child,” Hob protests.

“Do not tempt me to draw proof to the contrary from your dream records,” Dream warns.

“You’ll be a terror,” Hob says. “‘No, Da, I definitely didn’t cheat on that exam,’ ‘Mm, that’s not what your dream at 2:34 am indicates.’”

“Precisely,” says Dream. He sounds quite proud of himself, really. Little nightmare.

Hob kisses him again, on the lips this time. Yes, they will definitely be absolute terrors, the both of them.

But it would be boring otherwise.

[reality-exodus]

Detective's rescue

Pairing: Eddie Diaz x Reader

Summary: Eddie's relationship, the reader is a detective, they both on 24hour shift. Reader responds a 9-1-1 call and ends up needing first aids

Warning: blood, angst, OD symptoms described, mention of drugs

Being a detective on patrol wasn't the best thing ever to be frank, but it was something when you knew your boyfriend would accompany you all night long with his own 24 hour shift, it was rare thing for our double shifts to be on the same time, but when it happened I both liked it and didn't like it, we were both out. I usually work on cases in the office and do my research and help the firefighters with cases and they help me occasionally.

"So where are you strolling now?" Eddie asked, I was driving while I had a Bluetooth headphone.

"In the area of the homicide, the father killed his daughter while the mother was away… there is still no handy information for a warrant so I am looking for something I've missed" I explained briefly as I was driving past the house.

"Baby…" Eddie started to say, I knew how he felt when I was getting so passionate about a case. He disliked it, I overworked myself and forgot many things such as sleeping, eating or going to my shift.

"How about you? Didn't hear anything from dispatch, quiet night?" I wondered, cutting him off elegantly, setting my line of defense. I wasn't like Athena, I do not leave my job behind once my shift is over, I admire her for that though. I actually have to spend more of my personal time researching and studying. I have to go undercover to gather information, but I am not complaining. Sometimes though I need my people to understand me.

"Yea we are just hanging around." He replied with a heavy sigh he didn't respond to the q-word, I knew he wouldn't be bothered. I knew the response was unwilling. He knew my drill "Buck fell asleep at the Gym, Bobby and Hen are playing chess and Chimney is cooking" he analysed their situation and I smiled.

"Tell him to make an extra plate for me, I'll be dropping by" I spoke hoping that would make up for my big-headed behaviour.

"Oh You i decided to have a proper meal other than burgers and donuts" he joked with small giggle.

"Happens sometimes" I chuckled when I heard the wireless "babe hang on"

"This is 221-L99 available tell me the issue dispatch" I asked, I could tell it was May.

"Alright, there's drug dealing on the "overroof" club, there's a rave going on, some ODs based on caller's information, 118 of LAFD shall be there to take care of those." She informed me as I heard the bell on Eddie's side.

"I'll be in touch Dispatch" I spoke as I was connected to the team I would cooperate.

"Diaz no phones on patrol" I spoke as I was driving and couldn't finish the call. "221-L99 moving on scene. I am nearby I see three overdosed in their twenties one male two female they are simply left on the ground I am engaging the victims now." I spoke and got out of the car.

"Copy detective" Captain Nash affirmed me.

I approached the victims and checked the pulses. "All alive you need to come in quick…" I couldn't leave the uncouncisous civilians alone.

"Already ahead of you detective you are clear to proceed" my boyfriend replied sweetly, or at least that's what I thought.

"Dispatch moving in the club incognito, there's no bouncer or doorman" I informed them and opened the door. This wasn't a good sign, the dance floor was empty and so was the kitchen, I would have to go down stairs. "Ground floor empty moving to basement staircase" I announced and moved i could hear voices. "Dispatch sent some back up, I hear people" I spoke and dispatch obeyed my request.

I was right behind the stairs and I heard enough keywords that included heroin, drugs, and that the police can't find. That was my queue. "LAPD hands in the air" I yelled, Eddie always said that my voice in that phrase was so cold, smooth and dictated he found it sexy. "Don't move" I ordered. My voice was strong. They were three but I had a gun.

"Nope ass" one said and charged to get my phone I kicked him to the ground he slid to the floor with no Injury but before i could get in control of the other two, they had two bags of drugs five kilos each if I calculated correct the moment one of them came and punched in my face causing the white dust to be spread all around me in the air I stumbled backwards fell hitting my head on staircase, I took a deep breath trying to orientate, my vision got blurry.

"Detective Y/L/N, report" I heard dispatch between the ringing of my ears but the only response I could find was groan, I felt my heart going erratically with the beats. I was shaking.

"Detective" It was Captain Nash this time, his voice tense. But there was a pause. "Dispatch three offenders running away with two white bags one leaking" he reported and that's when my sudden dysphoria was making sense.

"Help" I managed to pronounce "OD" as I started to shake. I couldn't make out what I was hearing or what was going on, suddenly I saw Eddie in a mask with Chimney. They moved me outside my eyes were wide open but I couldn't react I was shaking, my body started twitching, I was held down, I could recognize Eddie's arms pressing me down, and smaller but still powered hands in my legs, chimney my guess. I coughed I could feel the salty, warm liquid laking inside my mouth, I coughed again.

"Baby… I am here" Eddie's voice was fading as black spots invaded my vision as I started having trouble breathing.

"I get no pulse" Chimney announced, "Hen start compressions" he instructed as he pushed on the oxygen in my face

"Oh no no honey, please-" before Eddie could finish his sentence I heard Buck taking him away as another person took his position next to me.

"Captain bring the AED" Hen requested she kept the pounds on my chest.

"Still unresponsive" Chimney said, causing Eddie to make a movement closer to me, Captain and Buck held him back

"I'm unbuckling the shirt, we are shocking" Hen spoke I heard footsteps

"Eddie please leave" Captain requested with a heavy sigh, I am sure he thought of the time Athena was in my position.

"Just let me be by Y/N Captain" Eddie requested , next thing I feel his warm loving hands on my face removing my hair stroking my cheek his fingers on my neck in desperate hope he would get the slight pulsation in my veins.

"Eddie hands" Hen spoke and he removed them as I felt electricity, I couldn't define what kind of pain it was or if it was, more like a sting to my whole body that would either wake me up or be the last thing I feel…

"Give me more Chim" Hen encouraged him the third clear was heard, the screen kept beeping. There was silence other than that.

"No no no baby no" Eddie panicked he started compressions but Buck pulled him off of my body. He yelled at him Buck yelled back I wasn't sure, my ears started ringing, was I dying…? The first ponder that dominated my mind, made my stomach twitch. I coughed vomit out…

I was alive

"Hey girl, hey easy now" Hens' voice sounded and turned me to the side to let it all out. Chimney secure my position so it wouldn't cause any damage.

Eddie raced next to me, he leaned in and kissed my forehead "oh god love, you scared me so much." I smiled as I turned on my back looking at him upside down as he leaned above my head.

"I'm sorry" I smiled and reached his face, I was shaking rapidly, he simply took my hand and kissed the palm before bringing it to his cheek, his cheek so hot against my freezing skin.

"Hey no no, it's not your fault, we must get you to the hospital now alright?" He smiled down at me and my smile faded at the hearing of the location I had to be.

"I won't be admitted in, I'll sign out" I announced, the sweet moment long gone as I made a move to get of the stretcher.

"Wow,now detective, you have to be cleared out in order to return to your cases, we are transferring you to the ER. I have to do it by the book, you know the drill" Captain Nash intervened immediately, and I could see the relief on my fiancee's face.

"Ah now we are by the book, that's nice to hear" I barked, I knew I was wrong, but hospitals, hospitals gave me anxiety, Eddie would have to go to Christopher eventually and I don't like being alone in those white cold rooms. "Guys please" I pleaded

"you are facing an extended pcp od, and a small hit on the back of your head, your blood pressure is perilly high and you have extremely unstable arrhythmias" Hen essayed the reasons I should listen to them as my eyes turned teary I was panicking.

"Hey hey sweetie" Eddie sighed "I'll be with you the whole time" he promised and kissed my cheek gently as they all stood up carrying me to the ambulance. He stepped in sat next to me while Hen joined, just in case. He was holding my hand, just looking at me, his ember eyes, he was worried even if he wouldn't admit.

"What about Christopher?" I asked concerned.

"Buck is already on his way, but how are you feeling Y/N?" He asked me softly stroking my head.

"I have dysphoria" I explained and soon Hen gave me a mask my eyelids turned heavy as I slipped from counsiousness.

I don't know what time it was, or how long I've been out. I blinked my vision clear, the lighting was dim in the room Eddie fell asleep on the chair next to me, I couldn't help but smile. He did stay. I stood up holding on my IV, feeling lightheaded, I moved to the bathroom, I looked terrible red eyes pale skin, weakness though was the worse.

"Y/N;" I heard his voice call my name in alert.

"What is it?" I asked making abrupt movement to get to the door I leaned there feeling another hit of vertigo getting the best of me.

"I thought you left, hey let me help you baby" he sighed in relief and approached, he was still on patrol clothes. He scooped a hand over my waist and held my weight as he walked me to the bed, softly placing me to lay down.

"Can I kiss you now? Or I am still high?" I asked him placing my hands around his neck, the IV tube got tangled between us, he smiled getting it out of the way. He leaned in and kissed my nose. His lips formed a smile.

"You have been good tonight, not running away, so it is well deserved" he smiled and located his lips on mine, the sweet kiss forming, he was gentle and cautious as he was touching me.

"Mhm mostly because I have been unconscious all night long and I get dizzy after three steps, that played it's part too" I spoke and kissed his cheek softly

"Let a man be happy" he spoke faking frustration before he kissed me again. And again.

[nebbys-personal-nebula]

the biggest, most copium agent 4 theory from this clown of an agent four enjoyer

apologies for the wait on this! i wanted to unlock all of the dev diaries to make sure i could squeeze out every last bit of lore...

anyways SIDE ORDER SPOILERS INCLUDING POSTGAME

so let's start with the common knowledge. most people know by this point that agent 4 has a palette. it's one of the first you get in the game, after pearl and marina's. to the surprise of nobody, it is a splattershot...

according to what marina says about the memverse, palettes are a portion of a person's soul dragged into the memverse. so agent 4's soul got dragged in here somehow. how did this happen, and why? there are a few possibilities...

marina mentions in her eighth dev diary that she needs someone to handle system security. she writes: "maybe i can ask that person cuttlefish introduced me to for help there." this is still pretty vague, but we know from smollusk's note on agent 4's palette that it is definitely agent 4. quote:

"THIS is who mawina wanted in charge of memverse security? this unfwappable, free-spirited so-and-so? i would never abide it!"

the question is: if agent 4 was intended to be security for the memverse, then where are they? this leads us to the parallel canon boss!

note that figure in the center. even though all descriptions for this boss describe it as "a lot like eight", it is clearly an inkling with its pointed ears and hair.

the hairstyle is significant, too. all art of this boss, including its icon, display it with the "haircut" style. why does this matter? because official art of agent 4 also uses this style:

on top of that, people have reported that if you have splatoon 2 save data on your switch, the boss will use whatever hairstyle your inkling uses in that game (with that inkling, of course, being agent 4). unfortunately, i forgot to take a screenshot of my save, but maybe someone could reblog this and confirm?

another thing to note about that agent 4-looking robot in the center is that they're wielding the order shot, which is the same weapon you get from agent 4's palette.

so what exactly am i getting at with all this? let's read a little more of smollusk's notes on agent 4...

"buut...no weason such stwength shouldn't be used to pwotect a world of order. an order defense force is MUCH cooler than a new squidbeak splatoon anyway!"

this phrasing is particularly interesting to me because it implies smollusk wants to, or already has utilized agent 4's strength in some way. additionally, smollusk regards fans of chaos in a very similar way. for almost all of them, he argues they must be "punished". examples:

"she must be PUNISHED!" - callie's palette

"her chaotic lies must be PUNISHED!" - shiver's palette

"for the sake of order, they all must be PUNISHED!" - frye's palette

"it annoys me, so he must be PUNISHED!" - big man's palette

"he must be PUNISHED!" - sheldon's palette

"i sentence him to PUNISHMENT!" - dj octavio's palette

almost all of these characters are on the side of "chaos". callie and dj octavio were on the chaos side of the final fest, while shiver, frye, and big man rep the splatlands, basically the land of chaos. no idea what smollusk's beef is with sheldon though that guy was neutral LOL

on the other hand, smollusk is notably softer with characters on the side of "order", like marie, murch, and marina (obviously). he still critiques them, but he doesn't sentence them to "punishment".

agent 4 was on the side of chaos in the final fest. so why didn't smollusk sentence them to "punishment"?

perhaps it's because smollusk is already making use of them...by using their soul to control the parallel canon boss!

think about it! the bosses of the tower are basically security, right? they keep you from reaching the top! since smollusk knows from marina that agent 4 was meant to be security, it could have pulled in their soul to fulfill that job. that's why agent 4's palette is there, and that's why we don't physically see them in the dlc! because they're grayscaled in the outside world!

…it is also definitely possible that the boss is just INSPIRED by agent 4, taken from marina's memories, or something like that. but i like this theory because it explains why agent 4's soul ended up in the memverse.

one other thing - i think the popular opinion is that the parallel canon boss are "robots", due to the way they move, their eyes glowing, the filter on their voice, etc...this is probably true, but have you ever wondered if the boss is actually a real inkling (a digital…real…inkling? you get the idea) if it was just a robot like the others, why would it specifically have ears and hair? not only that, but you can get the parallel mask from the priz shop:

which you wear on your face. what if this is the real agent four, wearing this parallel mask? their gray coloring could be because they're grayscaled! after all, we never actually see a representation of grayscaling in-game. the name implies that they'd actually turn gray in some way, maybe in the color of their tentacles. but this could be the most dramatic extent of it!

this is definitely a stretch, but you can consider it food for the die-hard agent 4 angsters out there. love you guys <3

feel free to reblog if you have thoughts, add-ons or even counterpoints! i find this all really interesting

[five-hxrgreeves]

Two Positives Equal a Negative (Or Something Like That)

PAIRING: adam warlock & fem! quill’s sister!reader

WC: 2.8k (again, a long one. I just can’t seem to write anything short!) 

SUMMARY: you’ve always had trouble sleeping thanks your numerous (unfortunate) life experiences. While he hasn’t lived as long as you have, Adam has a similar problem. Fortunately, a Terran phrase that your brother taught you might have the solution that you seek.

WARNINGS: slight gotg three spoilers, fluff, angst if you squint.

AUTHOR’S NOTE: okay, so I accidentally lied and I realized that my last one-shot wasn’t my first official one; I wrote a Natasha x reader several years ago. I just don’t post on here that often so I forgot about it, lol. Anyway, Adam Warlock currently has a chokehold on me so here’s another one-shot for him- the sequel that I mentioned on the last one. I’m tempted to write a Gally one/two-shot, but I’m not familiar with the TMR universe so I’m worried that I’d mess it up.

Also, I know that the phrase is actually ‘two negatives equal a positive,’ but I was drawing on the fact that non-Terrans wouldn’t really remember/understand Peter’s references, and since ‘you’ had only been to Earth during Endgame, you it mixed up.

Part 0 , Part 1

You’d always had trouble sleeping, especially on your father’s planet. There had just been a sense of. . . wrongness that you didn’t need Mantis’ empath powers to feel. It had made you on edge most of the time, alert for the unseen danger that you felt. While this might’ve just been your role as Ego’s protector speaking, you knew that your sister felt similarly. Mantis had once offered to put you to sleep using her powers, which you’d agreed to. Although it had worked, you hadn’t liked the feeling of your emotions being messed with, or the vulnerability that came with sleep. Even though you trusted that your sister wouldn’t hurt you, Ego was a different story entirely.

So, that meant that you were up most of the time with only catnaps and snatches of sleep when absolutely necessary. (Luckily your enhanced stamina helped in this case so it wasn’t terribly detrimental to your wellbeing.) It was hard to hide your unusual sleep patterns on the Milano with your new friends since there wasn’t space to walk around like there had been on Ego’s planet. But the Guardians all had various traumas of their own, so they understood the difficulty of getting peaceful rest. Some nights had even been better than others as Peter would teach you how to play Terran card games, which would then include the rest of the Guardians once you’d learned.

You also liked to sit in the pilot’s chair late at night and watch the darkness of space light up around you. It was funny, really; everyone expected space to be a dark, black vacuum of nothing when it was actually just the opposite. Sure, there was no physical form of life, but space was alive in its own way. As the Milano sailed aimlessly through the stars, you’d pass the orange-red clouds of dust and gas— nebulas. Or the brilliant white-blue of a dying star, or the different hues of blue-black that surrounded you. Space was truly beautiful, which was something that you never tried to take for granted.

But now you were stuck on Knowhere. There were no brilliant colors of space to distract you or friends to play card games with. Mantis was gone— your only source of comfort on those long nights when you’d served your father. You were alone, with nothing but a Zune to distract you as you sat, bored, in the kitchen late into the night. You’d decided on some calmer tunes and were currently listening to the Frank Sinatra playlist you’d curated. A warm mug of tea— which Peter had also introduced you to— sat between your hands as your eyes glazed over, getting lost in your music.

--

As it turned out, Adam wasn’t that great of a sleeper, either. It always felt like there was too much energy running through him to be properly restful— not to mention that, whenever he closed his eyes, he saw his mother waiting for him as he flew desperately towards her. And then the explosion would come, jolting him out of sleep as a reminder of his failure.

With a sigh, he pushed back his covers and stood. Since he was already dressed (his mother had always told him to be ready for anything), he made his way to the kitchen where he’d baked cookies with you. It hadn’t been that long ago, but he already missed the comfortable, homey feeling he’d gotten as he formed the batter into spheres with you standing at his side. You had yet to talk to Rocket about how his comments made you feel, but he knew it was because you respected your teammate and didn’t like making a big deal out of things. Thinking about you now, he sort of hoped that he would see you in the kitchen when he got there— but that was a crazy thought; it was the middle of the night! Any normal person would be in a deep sleep by now.

So, it was definitely a pleasant surprise when he came upon you, sitting at the head of the table. Your earbuds were in your ears, as usual, and you seemed to be deep in thought as you absentmindedly traced the rim of your mug with your finger. He was comfortable enough with you to approach you without hesitation, so he took the chair next to yours and nudged you gently to get your attention.

You jumped, startled by the unexpected presence of someone else in the room. At first you had a wild thought that it might be Peter, who came to keep you company as he often had. You were only mildly disappointed to see that it was Adam instead (and this was just because you missed your brother; you were actually quite happy to see the golden boy.) You took out your earbuds and paused your music. “You’re up late. Or early.”

His golden eyes met yours— something you noticed that he did often; it seemed that eye contact was his way of showing that he was listening to you, which always made your stomach flutter pleasantly. “So are you,” he replied. “Can’t sleep?”

“Nah,” you said with a shrug. “You?”

“Me either,” he agreed.

You sat in a comfortable silence together, one so long that you were almost tempted to  put your earbuds back in. Maybe this was a one-off thing; you’d never seen him before on your sleepless nights. Maybe he wasn’t used to being up at this hour and just wasn’t as talkative as he normally was with you. But you were also curious; what could a supposedly perfect being be troubled with at night? So, you sighed, and against your better judgement (as you hated to talk about your feelings), you asked, “wanna talk about it?”

But Adam also knew how you were, and he shook his head. “No, it’s okay. I don’t mind just sitting here.” He got to enjoy your company, after all, so he considered tonight to be better than most.

You let out another sigh. As much as you hated getting touchy-feely, the night was already very boring; sitting and not talking would only make it worse. “I don’t mind, actually. I’m used to being around other people when I’m up like this. Talking would make the time pass faster.” You studied his expression for a moment, which was unusually unreadable; it always seemed like he had a kind smile or glance to send your way. “We can start off easy, if you want. Are you up like this every night?”

His expression softened at your willingness to go outside your comfort zone, so he answered honestly. (He had nothing that he wanted to hide from you, anyway.) “Most nights, yeah. What about you?”

“Same,” you agreed. You played with the rubber protective tip on your earbud. “Can’t get to sleep or bad dreams?”

“Both,” Adam admitted. “Although it’s usually the first one.”

You nodded. “Same, again, but for me it’s mostly the latter. You remember when I said that you weren’t the first person to try and kill me?” At his confirmation (because how could he have forgotten that?), you continued, “yeah. It’s mostly that. My father was a great parent,” you finished sarcastically.

When you’d first become friends, you’d shared stories about the Guardians’ adventures— even the ones that had happened before you’d joined the team— although they’d mostly been lighthearted in tone. You’d acted like they hadn’t really affected you and had laughed at the fact that your father’s planet had tried to swallow you whole. Adam sort of wished that your father was still alive so he could fight him for you. While his mother had had her moments of parenting issues, he’d never doubted that she did love him; it was clear that this wasn’t the case with your father.

“I’m sorry,” he said, not really sure what else he could say. Despite everything that had happened to you, you were still a good person; you hadn’t fought the Guardians on your first meeting like he had, which already made you better than him. He wished that there was something he could do (such as getting revenge for you) to help ease whatever burden you were feeling as you often had for him, but there didn’t seem like there was anything that he could do.

“Don’t worry about it,” you replied in a blasé tone, already moving on from your heavy things. “Want to talk about your stuff?”

He shifted in his seat, a little uncomfortable to admit his failure to you. He wanted to prove that he was just as capable as you were, and this was one of his worst moments. “I. . . keep thinking about my mother.” His gaze dropped to where his hands were folded on the table, unable to watch your reaction in case you thought worse of him. “How I. . . wasn’t able to save her. I was so close, too. If only I’d been faster—”

You reached out a hand to put it on top of both of his, cutting him off. Yours was much smaller in comparison, barely covering even one of his hands. He looked up at you with surprise, feeling his face heat up at the contact. Your usually jovial expression was uncharacteristically serious as you chided him gently, “stop. Thinking like that never helps, you know. You’ll drive yourself mad if you keep wondering ‘what if.’ I should know.”

While he was relieved that his fears about your reaction were unfounded, he frowned at your last words. “What do you mean?”

You pretended not to notice that your hands were still holding his as you answered, “remember what I told you about the Snap?” At his nod, you continued, “Peter and I were the only ones who weren’t trying to subdue Thanos. My powers are mostly defensive, so they would only anger him, which was the opposite of what we were trying to do. Peter got— understandably— distraught at the news of Gamora’s death and he was practically solely responsible for the Snap.” You sighed heavily, dropping your gaze from him. “As the only other person not doing anything on that planet, I could’ve stopped him, but he was my brother; I couldn’t hurt him. But if I had. . . everything could’ve been so much different. In a way, I was responsible for the Snap, too.”

While he understood your reasoning, he didn’t completely agree with it. You’d filled him in with great detail about the Infinity War, which you’d only learned the missing parts after you’d been brought back. So, he insisted quietly, “Thor could’ve also gone for Thanos’ head, but he didn’t.”

“But Thanos wouldn’t have even gotten to the Terran planet if we’d stopped him on Titan. You see what I mean? These what-ifs really messed with my head— still do. You eventually just have to accept the fact that the situation can’t be changed and learn from your mistakes.” In a lighter tone you added, “I promised myself that the next time I needed to sock it to Peter, I wouldn’t hesitate. Maybe a good hit to the head would knock some common sense back into him.”

Adam chuckled at this, his serious expression lifting. Sensing that you didn’t want to talk about such emotional topics anymore, he changed the subject slightly. “So you’re up every night because of these thoughts? Don’t you need sleep?”

“Yeah, but I’ve got enhanced stamina, so not as much as a regular person,” you said, relieved that he picked up on your hint. “What about you? You’re practically a god yourself.”

He felt his face flush with (pleased) embarrassment at your indirect compliment, even if it was truthful. “That’s part of the problem, I think,” he explained. “All this power. . . it gives me too much energy and. . . I can’t sleep.”

You frowned thoughtfully at your similar predicaments, an idea (admittedly, a stupid enough one that Peter could’ve come up with it) forming in your mind. “Y’know,” you began slowly, “Peter taught me a Terran phrase awhile back. I can’t exactly remember how it goes— it’s like two positives equal a negative, or something like that— and it means that when there’s two good things, it cancels out the bad one. We could try and apply it here.”

He gave you a curious look. “Really? How?”

“Well, since we both can’t sleep— that’s the negative— maybe. . . maybe if we slept. . .” You felt your face burning at your suggestion. “If we slept. . . tog— well, not together-together, I mean— with each— does that sound worse? I—” you struggled to find the right wording that wouldn’t come off as suggestive. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” you added hastily, misunderstanding his bemused expression.

“Little Quill,” he teased you lightly, “you haven’t even gotten the question out.”

Oh. You only felt even more embarrassed. “Do you want to sleep in my room?” you finally managed to blurt out, burying your face in your hands, unable to look at the boy across from you.

Instead of taking offense or making fun of you as you’d expected, Adam seemed to actually consider your offer. “Do you think it would work?”

At his question, you dropped your hands to your lap and shrugged, though your face was still very red. He seemed remarkably unflustered, not that you could tell if he was (damn his beautiful golden skin— wait, what?) “I don’t know,” you mumbled, still refusing to look at him. “I can only sleep if I feel safe, and there’s only one person I ever felt that way with— Mantis. But. . . now I think that includes you, too.”

Adam couldn’t help the bright smile that formed on his face at your words, the thought that you felt safe with him (especially after everything that he’d done to you and your friends) meant more than he could say. The thought that you would willingly be vulnerable in his presence made his stomach feel enjoyably— and inexplicably— nauseous. “I feel safe around you too,” he replied without hesitation. “And. . . I wouldn’t mind trying it.”

--

Not long after, the two of you returned to the room you were renting in the dorm-style building. Since neither you nor Adam had family to speak of (and were also short on funds), you’d both found rooms in a tenant building that had lots of other people, many of whom had lost their homes during the Guardians’ most recent adventures. Luckily you’d gotten a room to yourself, though you had to share basic facilities with everyone else.

“You can sleep in the bed since this was my idea,” you offered. You were still in what you considered your pajamas, so you just had to gather some spare blankets and pillows.

Adam shook his head, against the thought of you making accommodations for him. “I can sleep on the floor. You shouldn’t have to give up your bed.”

“It’s not like I use it much anyway,” you joke, pulling the covers back. “But if you’re seriously against me sleeping on the floor, I guess we could. . . share?”

He seemed not to mind your proposal as he agreed readily, and after taking off his shoes, he made to get in when you spoke again with a confused look on your face. “You. . . sleep in your clothes? No wonder why you can’t get comfortable!”

Adam seemed to not understand your comment. “You sleep in your clothes.”

You laughed a little at his observation. “These are sleep clothes, not everyday clothes. At least take off your jacket,” you reasoned.

But as he did so, you realized why he hadn’t gotten more comfortable: there was nothing except chiseled chest under his clothes. You blushed and tried (but failed) not to stare as he got into bed next to you, admiring the way his muscles flexed with his movement. Luckily he seemed to not notice your attention as he settled next to you. There was a sizeable gap between you two despite the bed not being very big, one that you wished you had the guts to close. (Wait— again, what?)

You wondered how you’d ever get to sleep with all that muscle right behind you (okay, this one you could admit freely), but somehow, in the quiet stillness of your dark room, the safe, peaceful feeling lulled you into the first restful slumber that you’d had since your siblings had left months ago.

--

And if you woke up the next morning, curled up against Adam’s chest with his arm wrapped around you protectively, neither of you bothered to say anything about it.

[inkdemonapologist]

!!!!!!!!!!! New Cthulhu Season has started!! this time featuring:

The band at our fancy party started playing a song that Sammy INSTANTLY recognised as his own improv, played a year and some change ago from the balcony of a New Orleans hotel to calm his nerves, which really should not be turning up perfectly replicated here and unsettled him so much that he ended up trying to communicate this to Jack in the LEAST CLEAR WAY IMAGINABLE

we got a supernatural partycrasher at the fancy party which means wE GOT PROPHET IN A SUIT!!! FANCY PROPHET FOR JUST A FEW MINUTES!! his previously prophesied warning of what was to come included the phrase "a report that silences the tongue of ythill," which is apparently what this was, and he got SO EXCITED about the appearance of this weird man making people bleed from the eyes that he booted Sammy from the front to take it all in. THE TIME IS FINALLY AT HAND!!!

i also have a lil smattering of out-of-context quotes from session 1 if ur into that sort of thing: here under the cut!

[Sammy is played by me, Joey is played by Boo (inkyvendingmachine), Henry is played by Maf (inkcryptid), Jack is played by Mochi (whatyouwantedmetosee) and Thren (haunted-hijinxer) is our GM!]

[Jack] Aw, there's no snow in the year before, so probably no snowball fights for Christmas, [GM] Well, we can invent our own, that's fine. [Sammy] It's the ONE difference! IDENTICAL TO OUR WORLD, except for on December 25th there was snow, don't worry about it. [GM] And tape recorders! [Sammy] There's tape recorders, and there was snow on December 25th, 1934. [Sammy] AND ALSO CTHULHU IS REAL. But other than that it's exactly the same. [GM] That's it, just those little things. [Henry] A minor detail.

[GM] Another question: Christmas is on a Tuesday, does the Studio get days off? [Joey] In the Cthulhu universe, yes… And It's All Henry's Fault.

[Jack] Anyone who failed their Sanity gain checks in '35 -- it's the anticipation. [Sammy] Yeah, it's just driving you absolutely bonkers that this prophecy still hasn't happened, can it go ahead and get it over with? I hate having this hanging over my head! [Sammy] And if you PASS your sanity check, and gained sanity, it could be that you're just INCREASINGLY IN DENIAL. Like, you know what? Maybe he forgot!

[Jack] Jack's the most likely to keep up with these poor people we keep roping into our nonsense! [Joey] Hey, HEY! [Jack] "Welcome to the group! You're only here for a little bit, but have some trauma! Trauma for you! And trauma for you! BYE"

[Sammy] We're like Absol. We're not CAUSING the trouble, but it IS in our wake, constantly. [Jack] Absol is 100% a modern teenage Joey Drew's fursona. [Joey] ….Yeah…

[Henry] Is it an easier apartment to get to, for Joey, than the one he has? [Joey] That is a really good question. [GM] It has ONE flight of stairs, but it doesn't have ten zillion flights, so I mean, it's better, probably! It DID have an evil ritual in it,

[Jack] *reading the inflation calculator* $1,000 in 1935 is… 22 thousand.. and a half… dollars????? [Joey] GREAT! *claps* STUDIO'S FUNDED! :D [Jack] Joey, no, [Sammy] You can do that with YOUR money, [Joey] I mean, that IS what's going to happen to Joey's money, Joey's just going to immediately dump it into the studio. Grant gets a LOVELY holiday present where suddenly, the numbers are not in the red anymore! [GM] This is how Grant doesn't become the final boss. [Sammy] Is that a present? IS THAT A PRESENT??? Grant looks at the numbers and they're suddenly bigger? WHAT'S HAPPENING [Jack] Sounds like a tax nightmare… he assumes his mind is broken, he's gone delusional, [Sammy] Joey's not thinking about how this affects TAXES he's just like, OH BOY! More money! Grant'll work that out. :) [Joey] Yeah! :D

[Sammy] Oh wow, mistletoe's been around for a while. [Sammy] …I say, as if mistletoe, the plant, is newly invented,

[Jack] We need to even the playing field; Henry's the highest, we need to drag him down to our level!

[GM] Let's say it's just you guys, and Peter and Susie, and Norman took off. [Sammy] Aw, don't wanna stay late? Old man, gotta get to bed? [GM] Maybe not if people are saying THAT at him,

*after finding a major ice rink was not built until 1936* [GM] Well, maybe everyone can do that when they DEFINITELY survive and come out victorious next year! :) [Sammy] ….survive?! Nothing's happened! It's a CHRISTMAS PARTY. [Jack] I HOPE we're surviving the Christmas Party, the food's not THAT bad, is it? [Henry] We solved your Christmas puzzle! [Jack] The Christmas Puzzle is how much food can we trick Joey into eating by handing it to him,

[Jack] Oh no, Spark's gone to… CATCOSA…. !

[Sammy] That's fine, Disney still hasn't caught up with us, so. [Jack] Well they're havin' this whole weird issue with like, ink and cultists, it's a bit weird… bunch of the staff started going missing…? [Sammy] *laughing* The entirety of Bendy and the Ink Machine happens, just OVER THERE. We averted it so now Disney has to do it.

[Henry] I will say, Henry's been a little uneasy all day. This doesn't affect anything, it's just for flavour. [GM] But he is in a really nice suit! [Sammy] Well THAT's why he's uneasy. They had to smooth his hair, and he's in a whole suit, [GM] In a vest that actually fits, [Henry] Unrecognisable. [Jack] Who is this stranger?

[GM] Make spot (hidden) checks! [Jack] *whispering* I hope it's Norman. [GM] Both of you spot a familiar face, before he's able to come accost you -- it's not Norman, it's Denis! [Sammy] oh gosh. [Joey] Well… I don't know if that's better or worse than my initial guess of Avedon,

[GM] He greets you all cheerful-like, "fancy meeting you here!" sort of thing-- [Sammy] Sammy still doesn't shake his hand. [GM] --he knows you as Joseph, doesn't he? [Joey] Oh no…. Joey was trying to hide his name in New Orleans… [Jack] That's fine, it's all about reinvention!

[Sammy] You know how in the Illusion of Living, Wally comes up and Joey randomly starts talking about how he's a great guy and a hard worker, and you're like, we were talking about something else ten seconds ago Joey PLEASE stay focused, [Sammy] Anyway, I'm imagining that but with Peter?

[Sammy] The Studio just had a big release last year, and I just got this really nice car! and *mumbling* those events aren't actually connected, BUT!! Through the power of leaving out the middle bit, you can assume they are!

[GM] Sammy, make a listen check! [Sammy] EXTREME SUCCESS, I rolled a THREE. [GM] Oh cool! Make a sanity check! [Sammy] oh no,,, [Joey] *Mario voice* HERE WE GO!

[Sammy] Sammy is gonna look at Joey, see that Joey is like…. in the midst of a conversational manoeuvre, and go, run try to find Jack. I don't know if he'll GET there, but, [GM] He can at least locate Jack, I would think, unless Jack is in a back room kissing boys or whatnot!

[GM] This guy is wearing a really severe, matte black suit, and has unnaturally white skin, his hair is black and very oiled in a severe widow's peak-- [Jack] It's him! Bendy Inkmachine!! [GM] I'm reading this description RIGHT from the book, I need you to know that.

[GM] The music's also definitely come to a stop, while all this was going on. And then there's a gunshot! And now there's just a big, yknow, panic, like you get! [Jack] Avedon's here! [Sammy] There'd be more French-accented yelling if Avedon were here. [Joey] I like how we're just going to end up willing Avedon into this scenario by making repeated "Avedon's here" jokes, [Jack] I mean, I've been trying to do the same with Norman, but it's either not working, or we haven't rolled Spot high enough to find him yet!

[GM] You guys get interviewed and asked what you saw, and what happened! [Sammy] …hang on, I gotta roll a check. [Sammy] *rolls* … OKAY COOL Sammy's back. [Joey] *laughing* Sammy interview, or Prophet interview? [Sammy] They were going to get a REALLY interesting interview if I rolled better on willpower!

[GM] Do you suppose Joey would've helped Susie shop for a dress that she could conceal a firearm in? [Joey] [Joey] sURE! [Joey] I mean I feel like, "would Joey help Susie shop for a dress," stop the sentence there: absolutely yes. There's other things to consider with dress? Well that just makes it a fun challenge now!

[GM] The police ask you what you saw. What do you tell them, about your experiences this evening? [Sammy] Sammy didn't see a lot. There was some commotion and a gunshot. [Joey] Yeah, I think Joey's just going to report that he just heard commotion happening up front, and quickly decided that he wasn't interested in commotion!

[Henry] Who was it who saw people with bloody eyes? [Sammy] Uh, that was Sammy, he's not mentioning that part.

[Jack] *rolls* Normal success for Jack. [Henry] *rolls* Hard success! [Sammy] *rolls* EXTREME success, I rolled a ten! [Joey] *rolls* …what's the fumble point, again?

[GM, as Denis] "There was a yellow sign at the Mardi Gras party last year! I thought it was a lucky charm, but I guess… it wasn't? I had a friend who said it wasn't, actually. You should watch out for those signs. Yes." [Joey] *so tired* Okay, that's… that's fine… [Henry] "Very helpful, thank you." [Jack] (This guy's great, can we keep him?) [Joey] (NO.)

[Henry] Henry is going to have so much anxiety. Like, just in general, but over this, too. [Sammy] "going to"??? [Henry] *laughing* No, you're right. What I'm learning is that Henry CAN slide into being mostly even-headed about crises, but he has to have a moment of "Oh God, oh fuck, oh geez" first. [GM] I think Peter does that in reverse. [Sammy] Yeah, that makes sense -- Sammy just shoots straight for "OH COOL, WE'RE GOING TO DIE!!!"

[GM] How much do you suppose these boys are up on vernacular and slang? [Henry] Henry might've picked up something from his kids, that's all I've got [Sammy] That's cute… Henry knows what yeet means... [Joey] I WAS ALSO GONNA SAY HENRY KNOWS WHAT YEET MEANS,

[Sammy] I do appreciate Jack being the one to notice that the prophecy might be a pun.

[Sammy] What do we even DO with this? What do we do next… [Joey] *muttering* That's what I've been trying to think of for the last like… half hour, Sammy…! [Joey] This isn't Joey-voice, this is just me-voice. [Jack] Yeah, Joey would never admit weakness in front of Peter Sunstram. [Joey] Yeah. Correct.

[Jack] Well if anyone else wants coffee, Jack might end up makin' some! [Jack] You know, that 11:30 coffee.

[Sammy] "Well, if he plays clarinet, let us know." [GM] Peter tips his head as if he's thinking of looking that up -- not looking it up, looking into it! [Jack] Yeah, just google it, Pete! What are you waiting for! [GM] On his cell phone, [Jack] You gotta pull out your Bendyphone! [Sammy] JDS is responsible for all anachronistic devices.

[Jack] Is It An Insanity Or Is It Just The ADHD

[Joey] Is Joey gonna make stupid decisions…? [Sammy] JOEY,,, [Sammy] Augh, I should've gone with him, [Joey] *rolls* *starts cackling maniacally* [Jack] *deadpan* Oh gee I wonder what the result is, [Joey] *audibly grinning* Joey might try to dream spell… Y? [Sammy] WHAT?! [Henry] Joey what are you doing…. [Sammy] JOEY DREW!!!

[Henry] I roll to see if Henry's "Joey's Doing Something Stupid" senses are tingling [Joey] Yeah, I think it's fair for Henry to have a "Is Joey Doing Something Stupid" sense that goes off fifty percent of the time, [Sammy] It's NOT USEFUL because it's ALWAYS HAPPENING,