#I really need to start posting some fic again

[glasvera]

Hi not sure if your looking for requests but can you write something like the fic you just posted with punisher and winter smut but this time just winter? (Ps if you want could you add his kraken tentacles bc im are real sucker for those.please and thank you!)

Oh I GOT you-

What You Do To Me

Winter Soldier x Fem!Reader

Description: You've recently acquired a new hero suit, and suddenly, Bucky's performance is suffering. Your obliviousness to his plight is maddening, and eventually something in him is going to snap.

Warnings/Disclaimers: SMUT (18+ only, Minors DNI!!!!), cursing, clothed sex, Bucky's arm tentacles, asphyxiation, rough sex, vaginal sex, tentacle bondage

A/N: Marvel Rivals has been doing a really good job of getting me all hot and bothered for characters I didn't think twice about when they were in the MCU. Godsdamn.

Word Count: 3.2k

“Hey! Barnes! Snap out of it!”

His teammate’s voice finally breaks through to him just in time for him to duck in cover while a sniper’s bullet grazes his organic arm. Bucky winces in pain and shakes his head to clear his mind; this mission hasn’t been his best work by far. He was being reckless. None of his teammates needed to tell him that.

But, then again, you had just begun debuting your new super suit. A skin tight leotard clings to your curves, lifting you in all the right places. Your tights stop at your thighs, leaving the rest of your skin exposed as they squish into the plush of your legs. I mean, could anyone really blame him for ogling?

“Bucky!” he hears your lilting voice call out as you make your way over to him, worry etched into your features.

Oh great. Now he’s never going to get you out of his head.

You slide over to hide behind cover with him, and he instinctively catches you by the waist to halt your momentum. A yelp escapes you when he inadvertently tugs you close to him. His metallic hand is cold, even through the fabric of your suit. You could have sworn it felt like it was trembling. But you don’t have time to think about that when you see the blood soaking into his shirt sleeve. Your hand hovers over it in an instant, your eyes closing shut and muttering the proper words as a cool blue light pours out from your palm, and he groans out his relief even if he shoots you a glare afterwards.

“Don’t worry about me. Get to the rest of the team and do your job.” He hadn’t meant to put so much venom into his voice, but you being this close to him was driving him crazy. He could smell your perfume, feel the curve of your bosom when he pulled you to him, hear the sweet concern in your voice as you uttered your incantations. Being around him right now was dangerous for you, and it wasn’t because of his reckless fighting.

That doesn’t stop him from feeling terrible pangs of guilt when you recoil from him, visibly hurt. “I…”

But this is the battlefield, and there is still truth to his words. You steel yourself and nod briskly. “Right. Of course. Be careful, Soldier,” you respond curtly before taking off back into the fray.

Even with you tending to the rest of the team, Bucky couldn’t get you out of his head. It was starting to frustrate him endlessly. Frustration, at least, was an emotion he could channel. His attacks get more aggressive, his shots more deadly, and he ensures every enemy who crosses his path feels his pent-up rage. That doesn’t mean he dodges well, however, and as your team finishes off the remaining stragglers, he’s a sweating, bloody, bruised mess. The adrenaline begins to fade, and suddenly it’s much more difficult to stand up straight.

You had followed his orders to the letter, leaving him to his own devices. You trusted Bucky, after all. He had been one of your partners for quite some time now. But now that the battle was over, you knew it was best to check up on him. You’d seen the way he was fighting. With an exasperated sigh, you approach him to help him to the med bay. He stiffens a bit but doesn’t protest when you throw his arm over your shoulder. The two of you stumble over to the make-shift medical center, and you lie him down onto a low table.

“S…Stop fussin’ over… over me,” he mumbles weakly when you place your hands over his wounds. “‘M fine… I swear.”

You let out a deep sigh and shake your head. “If you were fine, I wouldn’t have had to drag you back here. Let me take care of you.”

Bucky doesn’t hear a word of it. His ears are ringing, and his eyes are glued to your lips as you speak. Lips that would look so pretty wrapped around his--fuck. It’s too late, and he can feel the blood beginning to rush south. He lets out a low groan and turns his head away from you. If you were going to heal him no matter what he said, then he would just have to do everything in his power to avoid looking at you.

You take his silence as defeated compliance and continue your work. Your eyes shut tight, and you recite your healing spells while hovering your hand over different parts of his body. With the extent of his injuries, the two of you stayed behind long after all the others had left. That much time leaves far too much of it for Bucky’s mind to wander. Closing his eyes doesn’t help. He can still smell the faint fragrance of your perfume, and occasionally you rest your hands directly atop his body to better channel your magics.

It’s maddening.

And what’s worse is that you’re completely oblivious to the effect you have on him. When he shifts about, you can only assume it’s from the pain. With his mask on, you can’t see the way his face reddens with each escalating fantasy in his mind.

“Ah!”

Your sudden scream yanks him out of his perverted day dreams, and his eyes snap open to find his metal arm having come to life. The plates have withdrawn and tentacles wrap around your wrists, binding them together in front of you.

“Y/N! I’m so sorry!” he apologizes as he reigns himself in and sheathes his eldritch appendages back into his arm. Fuck, when had he…?

You were completely caught off guard, your chest heaving with your quickened breaths. It had happened just as you were finishing tending to the last of his wounds, and it was so sudden you had no chance to react. Of course you had seen Bucky use these in battle to crush his enemies, and so of course for a split second you were absolutely terrified. But they had been surprisingly gentle, looking only to restrain rather than constrict or break. This only left you even more confused.

“I-I… I’m okay,” you reassure him as you stare down at your wrists. When you finally meet his gaze, you can see the way his brow furrows. “Are… are you okay, Bucky?”

Why did you have to look so damn cute when you worry over him? Why did your suit hug your tits so perfectly as you leaned over him? His face feels hot, and he rips off his mask in a desperate attempt to ease his discomfort. It does little to help.

“Can’t… can’t control myself around you,” he mumbles mostly to himself, but with his mask off you’re able to pick up on his words.

“What do you…?” After a few moments, a few glances at his flushed face and blown pupils, you catch on to his meaning. You blush and let out a soft, “Oh.”

Did the Winter Soldier really think about you like that? But then the pieces are falling into place, and all of his behaviors from the last few hours are starting to make a lot more sense. Sure, you were hoping to catch his eye with your new suit. You’d been crushing on him for a while. You never would have expected to have such a strong effect on him, though. Admittedly, you felt empowered by it.

Bucky suddenly sits up then, ready to push himself off of the table. “You did your job. I should be going.”

But you place a hand on his chest, not using much force, but enough that he stays seated and eyes you dangerously.

“Let me go, sweetheart. You’re playing with fire.”

Despite his words, he scoots back slightly as you get closer. You rest one knee on the table alongside his hip, bracing your hands on his shoulders as you throw your other leg over him and straddle him. The bare skin of your thighs scrapes along the rough fabric of his cargo pants.

“Maybe I want to get burned,” you retort seductively.

His jaw clenches, and he takes in a deep breath. You were going to be the death of him.

“Last warning,” he growls. “I’m not gonna be gentle.”

Oh gods, you don’t want him to be gentle when he talks like that. You settle onto his lap, and his hardness presses up against your core deliciously. You grind against him as your hands grab hold of his vest collar. Strong hands grip your hips, trying to hold you still, but you can see the turmoil in his eyes. It’s taking every ounce of his restraint to keep him from fucking you like an animal.

Well then, you just need to break through that last little bit.

“I don’t want you to be gentle,” you purr as you raise a hand to trace your finger along his jaw.

He jerks his hips up into you then, releasing a staggered breath as his head hangs low. “Shit…”

The pad of your index finger encourages him to lift his chin and look at you again, and it’s at least some consolation to him that your eyes seem just as crazy with desire as he feels. “I’m a healer, Barnes. You can be rough with me.”

That’s it. The final thread snaps. He grabs a handful of your ass and cradles your head with the other, lifting and tossing you so you lie on the table beneath him. His lips crash onto yours. Technique is abandoned for raw desire as a clash of teeth and tongue ensue, but it’s so rough and devouring that you moan low in your throat. He bites and tugs on your lower lip until it’s swollen, tangles his fingers into your hair and pulls until it almost hurts, and his metallic fingers squeeze and fondle your breast through your suit. Your legs wrap around his waist and you desperately try to grind up against him to relieve the aching pressure in your core.

He breaks the kiss, pulling back to admire his handiwork as you stare up at him with half-lidded eyes, and immediately attacks your neck. He bites just below your ear and sucks hard on the skin before laving his tongue along the bruise he leaves. 

“Ahn… Bucky…” you moan, wrapping your arms loosely around his neck.

His name on your lips is intoxicating, and he growls against your skin as he grinds his growing bulge against your needy cunt. His hand leaves your breast to tug desperately at the neckline of your leotard and reveal more unmarked skin. At least this suit was made to withstand all sorts of stress and impacts that would destroy normal fabri-

RIIIIIP

It tears like paper in his grip, and you gasp out in surprise when he rips it straight down the middle. The sight of more and more of you bared before him sends him into a frenzy, and you notice the metal plates shifting as though those tentacles of his were begging to break free. This unrestrained side of him shouldn’t turn you on this much, but you can feel the wetness pool in response.

For a split second, a flicker of remorse passes over his face. “Sorry,” he mutters, but just as quickly he returns to pawing at your flesh and fondling your exposed breast.

Your arms leave his neck and you raise them above your head, crossing your wrists.

“I told you not to hold back,” you state simply, looking pointedly at his metallic arm.

He cocks his head to the side and gives you a warning glare. “You don’t know what you’re asking for,” he argues, but he can’t deny that the thought of it was drawing forth incredibly hot images in his mind.

“What, you think I’m not strong enough for a little bondage?” you accuse, pouting and sticking out your kiss-swollen lips.

“That’s not--fuck,” he stammers, words failing him as he feels the last of his self-control slipping away. “If I hurt you--”

“--I’ll heal it later,” you interrupt him, bringing your hands down to cup his face tenderly. “Bucky, if I didn’t want this, if I didn’t want all of you, I wouldn’t be here.” His movements stop as his attention focuses on your face and your words. You nod your head towards his metallic arm that looks ready to burst at its vibranium seams. “I know you can control it. I trust you. Plus,” you pause, shooting him a flirty smirk as you return your arms to rest above your head, “what kind of girl would I be if I didn’t take advantage of the Winter Soldier’s tentacles?”

A breathy chortle vibrates from his chest. “You’re terrible. And kinky.” He lowers his head just inches away from your lips, capturing your gaze. Metal slides and shrieks as plates shift, and you hear the quiet slithering before you feel tendrils wrapping around your wrists again.

“And it’s fucking sexy,” he finishes before kissing you again.

Those tendrils don’t stop at your wrists. You feel them parting the remaining fabric of your ruined leotard, wrapping around your breasts, curling around your thighs… Bucky ruts into you shamelessly now, grunting animalistically into the kiss as he spears his tongue into your mouth. You fight for dominance but relent quickly as his lips and tongue devour your very essence, tilting your head and deepening the kiss. Resting his weight on a mass of tendrils, he quickly unbuckles his belt and nearly rips the button and zipper off of his pants as he tries to free his cock. The weight of it falls solidly against your stomach, and you whimper at the heat of it against your skin.

“Mm…” you moan between kisses. “Fuck me,” you mutter against his lips.

Oh, that sound was definitely being archived in his memory for later. But you teased him to the breaking point earlier, so it’s only fair that he returns the favor.

“What’s that, sweetheart?” he asks, taking himself in hand and stroking it as he nudges the tip teasingly against your clit. You frown up at him and let out a soft mewl. “I didn’t quite catch that.”

“Bucky,” you keen. “Please…”

“Please what?” he taunts, rubbing the tip up and down your drooling slit. You try to buck up against him, but tentacles wrap around your hips and hold you down.

“Please!” you practically cry out. “Please fuck me!”

“Fuck, that’s a good girl.”

He lets out a triumphant huff before guiding his cock to your entrance. Slick with your juices, he slides in slowly yet easily, only giving you just long enough to accommodate to the stretch before pushing in further. Your head falls back against the table with a soft thud as a low moan drawls from your lips. He fills you perfectly. Once he starts moving in and out, you can feel every delicious draw of his length along your walls.

“Yes, fuck…” you curse as your ankles lock behind his waist. The tentacles on your hips release their grasp, instead traveling upward to wrap around your beautiful neck. You feel Bucky hesitate, but once they squeeze you gently, he can’t miss the way your pussy clenches around his cock in response. Fuck, there was no way he was going to be able to last long with you. Not if you were going to keep being this kinky, this sexy.

You angle your hips up to meet his thrusts as he increases his pace. Immediately your moans increase in pitch as he starts hitting that perfect, spongy spot inside you. His pubic bone hits your clit with every thrust, and your thighs quiver around him as you feel the pleasure building. The tendrils around your neck squeeze harder, leaving you with just enough air to remain conscious, and yet another snakes down your stomach to circle your bundle of nerves. You were in heaven, your eyes going crossed as he fucks you in earnest. He goes harder, faster, grunting as he palms your breast and pinches the nipple between his fingers.

CRACK!

That’s the only warning you have before the table snaps straight down the middle, and both of you go crashing down to the ground. It takes you both by surprise, but Bucky is too far gone to let it affect him for long. Instead, the tentacles wrapped around you lift you and reposition you until you’re on your knees. You’re thankful to still have your tights on as your knees meet rough concrete, but that’s the last sane thought you have before Bucky enters you from behind. The tendrils around your wrists lift your arms up so your back is arched against his chest as he leans over you. His arm wraps around your waist and grips tight, fucking into you like a feral animal and panting desperate growls and grunts into your ear.

Tendrils leave your neck and you gasp for air, and then they’re replaced by Bucky’s firm hand. He doesn’t choke you, instead content to feel the curve of your neck beneath his fingers as his thumb caresses your jawline. Your moans go uninhibited now, singing a song of lust and debauchery for his ears alone.

This angle has him somehow hitting your g-spot even more thoroughly, and the tentacle at your clit flicks and rubs ceaselessly. You can feel yourself getting close, and the way you spasm and clench around his cock drives him closer and closer to the edge himself. Your velvety walls suck him in like they never want him to leave, like his dick was made to be in your pussy.

“Bucky, I-I’m, I… fuck--”

“Me too, Y/N,” he concurs in a gravelly voice.

He fucks you with reckless abandon, bringing you closer, closer, closer--

“Cum for me,” he commands before taking your earlobe between his teeth.

The coil shatters, and a wordless scream leaves your jaw slack as you shudder and convulse around him. Wave after wave of pleasure washes over you in its hedonistic warmth. Bucky follows soon after, his thrusts quickening and his groans growing more and more feverish. With a few final thrusts and a guttural roar, he empties himself in your womb. He’s panting, sweating through his clothes, and the two of you collapse sideways onto the cold concrete floor as you catch your breath.

“That was…” you breathe out, not even sure what the rest of the sentence was supposed to be.

“Yeah,” Bucky agrees, returning his tendrils to the safety of his metallic arm as it shifts back to its original shape. He hugs you close, spooning you and holding you gently. It was a stark contrast to the way he was pounding into you just moments ago. “Stay with me for a while?” he asks you softly.

Yeah, you were definitely going to need to heal yourself after that. But for now? This…

This is nice.

You respond to him by snuggling closer against him, resting your arms over his. You can stay like this for as long as he wants you to.

[kayrma]

See You At the Next Stop

Lily Evans meets a posh-looking bloke with messy hair on the way back to London, and for once in her life she actually enjoys a train ride. Maybe having a spontaneous seat partner isn't that bad after all.

Read on AO3 (2.9k words)

happy birthday, lily evans-potter! didn't have enough time to finish my punk!lily fic but i realized i never actually posted this fic from two years ago to tumblr so this is my contribution for today <3

Lily stared down the document in front of her, willing her brain to start writing words again. She had been on the train for nearly two hours now, travelling from Edinburgh to London. Visiting home had been yet another disaster, with Petunia continuing to judge Lily for moving to London after school and finding an inner-city job.  Her sister liked to say that Lily was wasting her money trying to live on her own (which was a lie, Lily had a lovely roommate named Mary), and that she’d be better off staying home and finding a husband. Sometimes, Lily thought Petunia was stuck in the nineteenth century, but she blamed most of that on her horrendous boyfriend Vernon, who worked for a drilling company or something else of the sort – it seemed far too boring to keep track of. 

Really, Lily had only gone home to visit their mum, following the two-year anniversary of her father’s death. His death had hit their family hard, despite them all knowing it was coming. Her father had suffered from cancer in his final years, but it still hurt knowing he was gone. Mr. Evans was Lily’s biggest supporter, encouraging her to attend Cambridge despite the monetary toll it would put on their family. He had helped her search for scholarships, and she ended up going to university for much lower than she ever could have expected without her father’s help. He was the one who helped her move to London, being there to help her move into her tiny flat despite him slowly growing weaker. She missed him every day, and she missed her mum, but she needed to be back in the city for work tomorrow.

Snapping out of her painful memories, Lily looked back at the half-empty document, with only a title and an introduction on it, not even in Times New Roman yet. She switched the font, the Arial irritating her, and leaned back into her seat. Even though she was on the high-speed rail, the train ride had felt impossibly long. She was seated next to some messy-haired Indian bloke, his glasses on top of his head and earbuds plugged in as he typed away on his own laptop. The man was gorgeous, to say the least, especially since he had unbuttoned the top collar of his dress shirt, and was wearing Converse with his slacks. Really, she couldn’t not admire him. Lily had a personal policy of not sitting next to men if she could avoid it, but he looked around her age and seemed relatively unassuming when he got on at Newcastle about an hour after her, and Lily found herself unable to say no. A part of Lily had wanted to ask him for his name, to know more about him, but he seemed to be a little bit of a mess as he got on the train. All he offered her was an apologetic smile as he struggled to shove his duffel into the overhead compartment as the train started moving. She smiled back at him, perhaps a little too eagerly in comparison to his semi-grimace. He had rolled up his sleeves as he sat down, and what was Lily supposed to do but stare at his well-defined tan forearms? He probably worked in some posh company, considering his attire (not that Lily could judge, she was still wearing business casual as well). Any time she peeked over at his laptop, he was typing furiously into some form of sheets that she truly could not decipher no matter how much she wanted to try. Looking away from him and turning her attention back to her own laptop, her brain felt like it was about to melt. 

Deciding to take a break, Lily closed her laptop, ridding her mind of thoughts about her struggling article. She pulled out her phone, and seeing that her plan was about to run out for the month, she started to play some silly game that didn’t require any data. At that moment, the messy-haired bloke looked over, saying “Oh, I love that game!”

He had said it extremely loud, presumably because he was blasting music in his earbuds, but Lily laughed and turned towards him.

“Really? All my mates make fun of me for playing it – what level are you on?”

“Oh, don’t worry, my mates do the same. They say it’s because I still act like a ‘bloody child’ but I think I just enjoy a bit of mindless fun, y’know?”

Lily nodded, glad to see that she had something in common with the gorgeous bloke. He hadn’t told her what level he was on, but his smile and enthusiasm more than made up for it.

“Regardless, I’ll let you get back to the game, this project might be the death of me.”

She slumped back as gracefully as she could, disappointed that he was busy, but she shot him another smile and went back to playing her silly little game. After exhausting her thumbs, she genuinely felt like she had lost brain cells, choosing to just put away her phone and relax with some music. Putting her head against the seat, she closed her eyes and tried to stop thinking entirely. However, no matter how much she tried to empty her mind, the bloke next to her kept popping into her mind. She ended up just embracing it, allowing her mind to fill with thoughts of who he could possibly be as she felt herself drifting off into sleep. 

Lily had no idea when she woke up, but she felt an impossible crick in her neck as she opened up her eyes. Quickly checking her watch for the time, she realized she had only been asleep for a little over half an hour, and sighed in relief – she’d still have time to try and work on her article again. However, as she tried to get up, she realized there was a weight on top of her head. Glancing upwards, she realized she had fallen asleep on the bloke’s shoulder, and he was leaning back on top of her head as his hands were stilled on his laptop. His shoulders were sturdy and broad, and Lily thought that she wouldn’t mind staying there forever. Not wanting to disturb him as he seemed utterly relaxed, Lily stayed put, hoping he’d wake up soon. 

After a few minutes (that felt like a lovely forever), his head lifted off of hers, and she took the opportunity to escape. Before she could even look at him, she heard the sound of his neck cracking as he stretched it, and Lily’s jaw dropped wide open. 

“That sounded like it hurt,” she commented discreetly, hoping he wouldn’t take it the wrong way. 

He smiled at her, glasses almost slipping off his nose now, rather than tangled in his messy hair. Shaking his head, he said “I always do it to wake myself up, it feels rather good actually.” The bloke proceeded to crack each one of his knuckles, and then his wrist. Lily grimaced at the noise, but couldn’t help herself from laughing. She figured she should probably apologize to him for falling asleep on him, even though she didn’t know how she ended up on his shoulder. 

“I’m Lily, by the way. Sorry I fell asleep on you. I’ve been working on an article and my brain genuinely felt like it might have melted if I hadn’t taken a break.”

“No worries Lily, it’s lovely to meet you,” he stuck out his hand, “Potter. James Potter.”

“Bond-like, are we?” Lily took his hand and gave him a firm handshake, trying to put on as serious of a face as she could in order to mirror his own expression. 

“Of course, milady Evans. What takes you to London this fine weekend?”

“Why Mr. Potter, I’m heading back to work. I visited my mum in Edinburgh, and I’ve got a roommate and a flat and a job to get back to tomorrow.”

“Is that so?” James flashed a smirk that would have brought her to her knees if she hadn’t already been sitting down. “Well Evans, I’ve just done the same, except that I visited my mum and dad in Newcastle, and am heading back to the flat I share with my brother and our friends, and a job as well.”

Lily giggled, of all things, and looked down to realize that their hands were still intertwined from when he had reached out to shake them. She dropped it before she could get too flustered, and tried not to notice the disappointed look on James’ face. 

“Right then, Potter, where do you work? I’d bet it’s somewhere posh, with the clothing you’re wearing and those sheets you were typing away on.”

Clearly surprised she had noticed, James’ quick reaction gave away that she seemed to have gotten everything right.

“Stalking me already Evans? And then falling asleep on me? Have you got some sort of ploy going on here, an evil scheme or whatnot?”

“Oh of course, I’m a journalist for The Daily Prophet, you see, and you’re the subject of my next story. James Potter: The Posh Bloke with Messy Hair and Unfinished Work.”

James let out a loud laugh at that, startling the other people in the full cabin. They all seemed to glare at him, despite his laugh being perfectly beautiful in her opinion.  He raised a thick eyebrow, questioning her with just that one expression.

“Alright, well you’re not the subject of my next article Potter, sorry to disappoint. But I do really work for The Daily Prophet, and I’m afraid I’m the one with unfinished work seeing as my article’s barely hit a page yet.”

“And you’re sure it can’t be about me? My messy hair just won’t do for The Prophet?”

“Afraid not, sorry, unless you’ve got a secret as to how you manage to keep it that messy. You’ve run your hands through it more than I can count in just the time we’ve been talking, and it’s not shown a single sign of being tamed.”

“Well Evans, I suppose I’ll let you in on a secret then.” He leaned in close to her, his lips almost brushing her ear as his breath made her shudder. “My dad’s actually the creator of Sleakeazy’s Hair Products, and I refuse to use it out of principle.”

Lily’s head snapped around so quickly it nearly gave her whiplash. She looked at James with an incredulous look on her face – there was no way he was telling the truth. But his face looked so earnest, completely devoid of his teasing demeanor, and Lily ended up just staring at him in bafflement. He snickered as she continued to stare him down, and his hands went right back up to muss up his hair.

“Yeah, I know. My brother ended up with the good hair genes, considering Sleakeazy’s has never really been able to do much for me anyways. Well, he’s not really my brother, we took him in after he ran away from his shitty family, but he’s my brother in everything but blood.”

James seemed like he was about to continue rambling, almost like his mouth was moving quicker than his brain. Lily reached out to put her hand on his wrist, but whether she did it to calm him down or for her own benefit, she didn’t quite know. 

“That’s really sweet of you and your family, James,” she gave him a small smile, “You’re clearly of the good sort. Maybe I will write my article about you after all. James Potter: A Bloke with Messy Hair and a Penchant for Being a Good Person.”

“All that from a bit of rambling, eh, Evans?” He was evidently smug, happy with the perception he’d given of himself. Something about his smirk made Lily want to wipe it clean off his face with a kiss, but it was far too early and far too public of an area to do that. Instead, she humored him with a laugh, and pulled her laptop out of her bag. 

Opening a new document, she enlarged the font into the awful old-Gothic newspaper style that came preloaded, and wrote up all the silly titles she’d come up with today. James reached for it slowly, wordlessly asking permission to take her laptop. She nodded and passed it to him, curious to see what he’d possibly type. He deleted all the words she’d put in, and changed the font to fucking Lobster, of all things, and then turned the laptop away from her. James seemed to be taking his time to think about what he was about to type, mussing up his hair yet again. After a minute or so of anticipation, he turned the laptop back to her, and it read: “James Potter: A Bloke with Messy Hair Who’d Like to Take One Lily Evans on a Date.”

Lily gave him what might have been the goofiest grin of all time, snatched back her laptop, changed the font to a respectable Times, enlarged it, and wrote in “Yes” so that it would fill up the page. James smiled back at her with the same reckless abandon, and leaned over to hold her hand. And then the computer nearly slipped off her lap.

They both reached for it, knocking heads in the process, but managed to save it from a horrific death on the train (she was a journalist, she needed to make use of her sensationalizing skills sometimes), and they both started laughing. They kept going even as she quickly put her laptop back in its bag. The passengers around them were definitely staring at them with irritation now, but that meant nothing to her if it meant seeing James’ smile. She leaned back into him and grabbed his hand to hold it properly this time, looking up at him like she could ravish him right there. He stared back at her with the same dark look in her eyes, and kissed her forehead and her nose. 

God, this boy and his ability to make her giggle. She whispered, “If you’d like to kiss me, you can just do it, y’know?”

He leaned in for a chaste kiss, “Right, but if I kissed you like I wanted to right now, we’d probably get a complaint for public indecency. Besides, it’s just another half hour to London, and my flat’s not too far from the station.” And then he winked at her. Lily gaped at him with an open mouth, and James pushed it back closed after a beat, saying “Don’t catch any flies in there, love.” Truly, James Potter was an enigma she could write an article on. 

“Well, I suppose I’ll get back to writing my article then. It seems I might be busy after we get off this train.” 

James stared her down as she pulled her laptop back out of its back, tied up her hair, and for extra flair, picked his glasses off his head and put them on. 

“Fuck, nevermind, you’re blind as a bat, Potter,” Lily blinked furiously, and shoved them back onto his face. James ruffled his hair (of course he did), and reopened his own work. Before he started working though, he reached over and pulled her closer to him, so much so that she was nearly on his lap, and then took his arm right back away once she was squished into him. Embracing the position, Lily opened a new document, abandoning the pages she had previously written, deciding that her next article would just have to be about something more lighthearted than the current foreign affairs of the UK government; her boss Minerva could probably appreciate some good news anyway. Pulling up the notes of an old interview she had done. Finally finding a rhythm as she typed away, Lily was startled by the “London, next stop!” that blared over the train’s PA system. She glanced over at James, who seemed just as rattled, and they both put their things away in unison. As everyone else on the trains stood from their seats to take their luggage, James immediately bumped his head as he got up.

“Bloody hell, these have no right being so low,” He grumbled as he stretched out and reached for his duffel.

“Sure you won’t need help with your bag this time, Potter?” Lily felt the need to tease him, just to humble him with her first impression of him from when he boarded the train. As if to prove a point, James swiped her bag off the overhead carry bin as well, and held on to both of them as the cabin started to clear out. Lily did a final check of their seats, and lightly jogged to follow him out.

“Well Potter, I recall you saying your flat wasn’t too far from the station. Are you planning on making good on that?”

“Of course Evans, what kind of man do you take me for? I’ll have you know I don’t put out on the first date though, I’ll be making you food since my flat’s got a stellar kitchen.” She raised an eyebrow at him, willing him to continue, because she wanted to know what he could possibly be making for her. “My mum’s aloo tikki recipe, I think you’ll like it.”

“This feels like a dig at me for being half-Irish, but I never mentioned that, so I’ll accept it. I look forward to seeing your cooking skills since you’ve got the sort of hair that would catch on fire in a kitchen.”

James gave her that stunning smile again, and grabbed her hand as they walked out of the station, and on the way to his flat. Lily had a good feeling about this bloke with messy hair and enough charm to create a whole new world.

[exitpursuedbyavulcan]

This fic has legitimately broken something deep in my brain. Since you posted this, I have read it at least once a day, intending to finally do my reblog, but by the time I get to the end, I am in such a state that I have to take a lap around the house. Then, when I try to write this up, I’m like, “Hold up, I need to read again so I can call out my favorite bits,” and the cycle repeats. Over and over and over again.

So this time, I’m writing while I’m reading. It’s very stream of consciousness and not organized at all, you are warned.

Billy getting weirded out that a stranger would ask him for help picking up books hurts. Like his family made him feel so useless that he can hardly believe someone could trust him to do this one, simple thing? I’m gonna fucking fight the Washingtons I swear to GOD.

But then he immediately asks to help some more! Because a nice, pretty girl had that base-level trust in him and that alone starts healing him! Knowing that one person, even a stranger, likes him is enough for him to start getting his life together. THAT’S ALL HE NEEDED! Again, fuck the Washingtons.

“He was existing, not really living, but that suited Billy just fine.” I won’t forgive you for this one.

Ugh, the physical way he reacts to his self-consciousness and anxiety is so real! And the voices of Lana and his parents in his head are exactly how I feel when my RSD pops up. It’s kind of pathetic to relate to Billy this much, but I don’t care. I love him, daddy.

BILLY STANDING UP FOR HIS (GIRL)FRIEND AYYYYY. That took so much confidence and was such a big step forward for him oh my gosh. Even if it did get him a black eye…

Him falling in love via her reading to him is DIVINE!

FUCKING BECKY! But I’m so proud of him for shutting her down so quickly and maturely. Even if he didn’t handle his neighbor seeing her quite as well. Still, his relapse is very realistic and well done. It really does just take one little thing to wipe out weeks of progress.

Him finding the courage to go to her again and ask for help is absolutely amazing. That is the true sign of progress, where he realizes he needs both to help himself and to lean on other people if he really wants to get better.

And, of course, fantastic smut! Really the cherry on top, lol.

I loved this so much, Ange. It’s definitely going on my list of regular rereads. 💜

Laugh Like Me Again

Pairing: Billy Washington (Trigger Point) x f!reader Warnings: Angst, smut. Word count: ~7k

Summary: Billy accidentally strikes up a friendship with the girl that's just moved into the flat next door, but when faced repeatedly with the baggage of their pasts they struggle to take it any further than "just friends".

Author's note: A (belated) birthday gift for @targaryenrealnessdarling. No tag list. Follow @fics-by-ewanmitchellcrumbs and turn on post notifications.

It was a quiet Saturday afternoon. Billy sat on the sofa in the living room of his flat with the curtains closed, blocking out the midday winter sun. He’d not long gotten out of bed, barely lucid as an episode of Come Dine With Me played away to itself in the background. He stared at the TV screen, but wasn’t actually taking anything in, it may as well have stayed switched off.

A loud crash against his front door, followed by several soft thuds upon the floor outside of it, startled him out of his torpid state, the sudden noise causing him to jump slightly. Billy didn’t cope well with unexpected loudness anymore, he hadn’t for six months, not since he’d watched his car explode into a fiery wreck on Cranstead Fields. He grasped the arm of the sofa tightly, eyes wide and breathing accelerated as he looked towards the door, his heart pounding so hard in his chest he worried it might burst out of it.

It wasn’t until he heard the muffled voice of a woman swearing on the other side of the door that he finally relaxed, fear giving way to curiosity, as he rose slowly from his seat and walked towards the front door, opening it with trepidation.

There, upon the carpeted floor, knelt a young woman, a collapsed cardboard box discarded to the side of her, as she scrambled to pick up books that were strewn across the communal hallway floor.

“You alright?” he asked tentatively, watching as she huffed, attempting to gather the books into a tidy pile.

“Give me a hand, would you?” she asked distractedly, not looking up at him. “Fucking box was too heavy and the bottom gave way.”

He hesitated a moment, taken aback by her request. Nobody ever asked Billy for help, nobody ever asked him for anything really, he wasn’t usually a person that anyone felt they could depend upon, yet here was a complete stranger trusting him to come to her aid.

Finally, he stooped down, picking up as many books as he could manage to carry. His eyes skimmed the covers, taking in the authors’ names; Stephen King, Terry Pratchett, Tanith Lee – he’d read none of them. He had never been much of a reader though; the last book he had touched had been Of Mice and Men for GCSE English. Billy hadn’t understood it, and the F grade he’d gotten had reflected that.

He adjusted the heavy load in his arms, standing awkwardly, as she finally righted herself, the remainder of her books cradled against her chest.

Fuck, she’s gorgeous.

“So, erm, where we taking these then?” he asked.

“Just next door,” she replied, glancing over her shoulder at him as she walked the short distance to the front door next to his. “We’re gonna be neighbours.”

Billy followed close behind. The flat next to his had sat empty for months. It had been nice not to have to worry about the odd hours he kept, or how loud he had his TV.

Oh god, had she been able to hear him watching trash telly through the wall?

Her front door had been left on the latch, and he watched as she gently nudged it open with her foot and began to place the books in her arms down upon the floor, off to the side of the doorway. Once her arms were empty, she gestured for him to pass her the ones that he was holding and then did the same with those.

“D’you want help shifting anything else?” he asked, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his grey jogging bottoms once he’d passed her the last of the books.

She straightened, turning to face him as she wiped her hands on her blue jeans. She really was stunning. Her hair was pulled away from her face in a high ponytail, leaving her features open and unobscured, and despite the casualness of her oversized jumper and jeans, she carried herself with a self assuredness that, to Billy, made it seem like the sexiest outfit in the world. He was immediately self conscious of his own scruffiness at that moment. He hadn’t looked in a mirror since waking up, but he knew he needed a shower and a shave. A giant stain from last night’s Pot Noodle emblazoned the chest of his black t-shirt, the very same t-shirt that he’d worn all day yesterday and then slept in. It was suddenly difficult to look her in the eye.

“That was the last of the boxes from that carload, actually,,” she said with a soft smile. “I can only fit so much in my shitty Fiat Panda, so having to make a fair few trips. Thank you for helping me though, and sorry for chucking books at your front door.”

Billy huffed softly through his nose, the corners of his mouth tugging upwards as he rubbed nervously at the back of his neck. “Don’t mention it.”

She pulled the door closed and locked it. “Well, it was nice to meet you,” she smiled, giving him her name, “and what should I call you?”

“I’m Billy,” he told her, his tone almost apologetic.

“Well, see you around, Billy.”

He watched her retreat down the hallway, until she disappeared through the door to the stairwell. He really hoped he would see her again, if anything just so he could prove to her that he was capable of not looking like an absolute slob.

Billy headed straight for the bathroom once he was back inside his own flat, not emerging until he’d showered, washed his hair, brushed his teeth, shaved and changed into clean clothes. It all felt like an effort, everything did these days. Piecing his life back together in the months that had followed his car being blown up had been difficult. It had been hard to come to terms with the idea that he had been radicalised by a terrorist group, impossible to make peace with the fact that he’d survived the explosion designed to kill him. His older sister, Lana, had nagged at him to go to therapy, to work through the trauma of what had happened, but therapy was expensive and he needed to keep a roof over his head, especially since Becky had split up with him and moved back to her mum’s. He had managed to get a job behind the bar of a local pub – the hours were shit and the pay wasn’t much better, but it made him feel useful, especially when it came to the manual aspects such as changing barrels and taking deliveries of crates of mixers and spirits. Each shift left him too exhausted to think about all he’d been through. He was existing, not really living, but that suited Billy just fine.

As the sky outside darkened into the purgatory that exists between late afternoon and early evening, his stomach began to rumble and he realised he hadn’t eaten yet today. Pulling open the fridge, Billy sighed at the bare shelves within. A half used bottle of ketchup lay on its side, a red puddle of sauce gathering beneath its lid, while the dregs of a carton of milk that was already two days past its use by date occupied the space in the door.

Fuck’s sake, he muttered to himself, stepping into his trainers and pulling on his coat, preparing for a trip out into the cold to buy groceries. A soft knock caused him to pause as he was zipping up his coat, and he tugged the door open, eyebrows raising slightly in surprise at the sight of his neighbour standing on the other side. He hadn’t anticipated seeing her again so soon, but he was glad he was in a better state than he was on their first encounter.

“Sorry, me again,” she said, raising her hand in a slight wave. “You’re probably sick of me asking for help, but I’ve unpacked my kettle and was gonna make a brew, but realised I’ve not got any milk. Don’t suppose you could lend me some?”

Billy couldn’t help but grin as he looked down at her, clearly amused by her question. “I thought people only did that in films,” he admitted. “I was actually just on my way out to buy some, if you wanna come? I can show you where the Tesco Express is.”

“Yeah, that’d be nice, actually,” she said, her face lighting up as she smiled brightly, “let me just grab my jacket.”

It was bitterly cold as they walked, the frigid air nippled relentlessly at Billy’s fingers, causing him to put his hands in his coat pockets to keep them warm. The street lamps were starting to come on as the sky turned a blue so dark it was almost black, and the continuous shine of the headlights of passing cars, coupled with the hum of their engines felt almost oppressive. He looked to her, seeking distraction. Billy worried that she might be cold; she’d only put on a leather jacket over the top of her jumper, though she had paired it with a massive, woolen scarf that she kept her face buried in up to her nose. 

“You all moved in now then?” he asked.

“Yeah, all my stuff’s in the flat now,” she replied, lifting her face from her scarf to look up at him, “just need to unpack it.”

Billy nodded, rounding a corner to the street that would lead them to the nearest Tesco. “So, what brings you to this neck of the woods then?”

“Had to leave my last place pretty sharpish,” she told him, “needed somewhere that was furnished and available straight away. This was the closest available to where I work.”

Her eye contact was avoidant as she explained this, seeming to retreat into herself. They were almost at the Tesco anyway, and Billy didn’t want to push a topic she was clearly uncomfortable talking about, so they walked the rest of the way in silence.

Billy grabbed milk, chocolate covered digestives and a couple of frozen pizzas, while she did a larger shop of essentials she didn’t have at her flat. As he watched her scan bread, eggs, milk and fresh fruit and vegetables through the self checkout, he couldn’t help but feel embarrassed by the junk food within his own basket. She had done a proper grown up’s shop, his own was the furthest thing from that.

“Let me make you a cuppa, to say thanks for everything today,” she offered as they stepped back into the warmth of their block of flats.

“Alright, sounds good,” Billy nodded, following her through her door.

Her living room was a sea of cardboard boxes, with barely any room to stand, let alone to sit down to drink tea.

“I know the cups are in here somewhere,” she said, setting down her shopping bags and beginning to open a box marked ‘KITCHEN’,

“Tell you what,” Billy suggested, “let’s go to mine for a tea. You can owe me one once you’re unpacked.”

Her eyes softened in gratitude as she looked up from the box at him, and it made warmth spread through his chest that rose all the way to his cheeks. He had to look away for fear she’d notice.

“That would be lovely. Thank you, Billy.”

He regretted his offer almost as soon as they stepped into his flat. Billy had never been tidy, if he hadn’t realised it himself, then the countless times that Lana had visited and nagged at him for it had certainly driven the message home.

You know, you can tidy up, Billy.

You’re allowed to open the curtains.

When was the last time you washed up?

It was easy to ignore when it was his own sister's passing comments, however, with a pretty girl by his side, it was as though he was looking at his living space through a fresh set of eyes, and he hated what he saw.

“Sorry…” he muttered, shame settling over him like a weighted blanket as he looked at the array of empty beer cans and crisp packets that were strewn across the coffee table.

She huffed an easy laugh as she followed him through to the kitchen. “Honestly, it’s fine. It’s not like you were expecting company, and you shouldn’t feel the need to apologise for how you keep your own space.”

He turned to stare at her, his brow furrowed in confusion at her lack of disgust. There was sincerity in her eyes, she wasn’t just being nice, she meant it. Her reaction eased his embarrassment somewhat, until he opened the cupboard to find he had no clean mugs.

“D’you live alone then?” she asked as he flicked on the kettle.

“Was it that obvious?” he replied with a grin, fishing two mugs out of the full sink. He busied himself with rinsing them out, while she leaned her back against the kitchen side, watching him.

She laughed at his response, and he couldn’t help but smile to himself as he scraped off the plate of used tea bags into the almost overflowing bin. It had been a long time since there had been laughter in his flat.

“So, what do you do for work then?” he asked, once they’d settled on the sofa with their teas. Billy had discarded his dirty washing to make space for her to sit next to him, and cleared the table so they could set down their mugs, alongside the packet of chocolate digestives he’d bought.

“I’m the social media manager for a publishing company,” she told him, before helping herself to a biscuit from the open packet and taking a bite.

Billy didn’t think he’d ever heard anything so daft in his entire life. He took a swig of his tea in an attempt to hide the way his features twisted in disdain. “So…er…do you just sit on Facebook all day then?”

She covered her lips with her hand as she giggled around a mouthful of biscuit. “That’s a bit of an oversimplification,” she said once she’d swallowed, “there’s a lot more to it than that.”

“Yeah, I s’pose there’s Twitter and Instagram too,” he said with a playful cock of his eyebrow.

“Oh, fuck off!” she grinned, swatting playfully at his leg.

Billy adored how easy he found being in her company, he had anticipated them not having much in common when he’d helped her to pick up her books earlier, but was now finding he hadn’t been this relaxed around anyone in a long time.

“So, what do you do then?”

The question made him tense, all sense of relaxation leaving his body as the familiar feeling of shame found its home within his body once more. His gaze drifted down to the mug that he held cradled in his hands as he spoke, feeling the need to justify his answer, and terrified she’d judge him for it. “I…erm…I work at The Joiners. It’s a pub not too far from here. It’s just temporary though, until I find something else.”

“What would you rather be doing?” she asked, before sipping her tea.

Billy blinked, stunned by the genuine interest in her tone. He was used to ‘you aren’t trying hard enough, Billy’ or ‘there’s always an excuse not to’. No one had ever bothered to take the time to ask him what he actually wanted.

“I dunno,” he admitted, lifting his eyes to meet hers, “I applied to join the army a couple of times, and kept getting rejected. Not sure what else I could do, I just wanna feel useful y’know? Work with my hands.”

She nodded in understanding, shifting to sit cross legged on the sofa as she faced him fully. “So, like manual labour?”

“Yeah, I s’pose. Bricklaying or something, would be cool to have a trade.”

“Then why don’t you?”

He sighed, leaning forward to put his half empty mug on the coffee table, before settling back against the sofa cushions. “Not that simple, is it? I’ve got no experience, I can’t just rock up to a building site and ask for a job.”

“No, but you can train,” she said, leaning towards him, her eyes lit up with enthusiasm, “there are vocational colleges that have two year courses for that sort of thing, and it would fit in perfectly around your bar work.”

“I wouldn’t know where to start,” he admitted, raking a hand through his hair.

“Well, that’s why it’s good you’ve now got a friend that sits on Facebook all day for a living,” she said with a playful wink, “because I do. Let me help you.”

Let me help you.

The simplicity of those four little words made Billy’s heart soar, the warmth of his smile lit up his entire face as he nodded at her. “Alright then.”

“Good,” she smiled softly, before gesturing towards his Playstation. “Got any two player games?”

She had utterly destroyed him at several rounds of Street Fighter, before all too quickly they had to call it a night. Billy went to bed happier than he’d felt in ages, never more grateful for someone having chucked books at his front door by accident.

When he woke the next morning, he was surprised when he looked at his phone to see that it was before midday – 9am, to be exact. Billy never got up that early, yet he found himself slipping out of bed with ease and, for the first time since Becky had left, he opened the curtains.

Letting light into the flat felt like opening up a new chapter of his life, but also it highlighted just how much of a shit state he’d allowed the place to get into. He busied himself that morning, clearing rubbish off of every surface, washing up, wiping down the sides, emptying the bin, and filling the washing machine with dirty laundry. He even hoovered the floors and cleaned the bathroom – neither one a job he had undertaken since moving in. It filled him with pride to think that the next time his new friend visited, she’d see his place clean and tidy.

By the time Billy finished cleaning the flat, it was almost time for him to leave for his afternoon shift at The Joiners. As he stepped out of his flat, he noticed a luminous pink post-it note stuck to his door.

‘IOU one cup of tea’ it read, with a smiley face next to it and the link to a vocational college’s bricklaying course scribbled beneath it. Billy smiled to himself, plucking it from the door and stuffing it into his pocket, before making his way to work.

A few days went by and Billy didn’t see or hear anything more from her. While he wondered about her, he figured it wouldn’t be unusual for them not to cross paths – they kept completely different hours – she worked a Monday to Friday nine to five, while he worked a combination of late afternoon and evening shifts at the pub.

It was a late afternoon shift he was returning from that evening when he heard raised voices coming from her flat. They were muffled from behind the door, but he could hear the distinctive anger of a deep male voice, and her softer one in response. She sounded upset.

Billy paused, his key lifted halfway to the lock, as her front door flew open.

“Just get out!” she sobbed, “I don’t want you here!”

She shoved desperately at a man that was slightly shorter than he was, but of a much sturdier build. He moved clumsily out of her flat, righting himself against the wall as he stared her down with fury in his eyes. “You can’t leave me,” he seethed, “who else would want you? You’re damaged goods!”

Billy’s anger flared as he heard that. That stupid cunt had no idea what he was talking about, and certainly had no right to say that to her. He shoved his keys back into the pocket of his jeans, and stalked over to where the bloke stood against the wall.

“Don’t speak to her like that,” he glowered, staring intensely at the man before him.

“Billy, don’t–”

“Who’s this then?” the guy scoffed in amusement, cutting her off. His gaze moved between her and Billy. “You moved on already? You lying bitch!”

“I said, don’t speak to her like that!” Billy snarled, grabbing him by his jacket.

“Liam, no!”

Her shout of protest came too late. The impact of the fist against Billy’s face whipped his head to the side, the inertia knocking him off his feet as he landed heavily on the carpet with a shocked expulsion of air.

Liam stepped over Billy, walking away towards the stairwell, leaving him to cradle the side of his face as he lay on the floor, a dull pulse of pain throbbing against his cheekbone and spreading out across his eye socket.

“Oh god, Billy, I’m so sorry,” she cried, kneeling beside him and placing a gentle hand on his shoulder, “are you okay?”

A few minutes later, he sat in an armchair in her flat, with a bag of frozen peas clutched against the side of his face. The eye that wasn’t obscured by the makeshift medical aid took in her living room. She’d unpacked. The shelves were filled with books, the sofa adorned with colourful throw blankets and cushions, and she’d placed plants and candles on almost every surface. It was cozy, it felt like a home.

“Thought you might want something a bit stronger than tea,” she said, appearing from the kitchen with two open bottles of beer in her hands. She handed one to Billy, before moving to sit on the end of the sofa that was nearest the armchair that he currently occupied.

“Thanks,” Billy said, offering her a tight smile, “for the beer, and the peas.”

Her brows arched in concern, her eyes still red rimmed from crying as she looked at him. “I really am sorry. You didn’t deserve that.”

“Not you that needs to apologise,” he told her, pulling the peas away from his face as he took a swig of his beer. “Who was that prick anyway?”

She sighed, her eyes downcast as her thumbs picked anxiously at the Birra Moretti label on her bottle. “My ex, Liam. We didn’t exactly part on good terms.”

“Yeah, no shit,” Billy huffed in mild amusement, placing the bag of peas on the table in front of him.

“You’re gonna have a bruise,” she said, her tone apologetic.

“I’ve had worse,” he replied with a shrug, “are you alright?”

“I will be…” - she drank deeply from her beer - “was stupid of me to tell him he could come round anyway. He said he was gonna drop off a few things I’d left behind and I was gullible enough to think it wouldn’t end in an argument.”

Billy longed to comfort her. He’d only known her a week though, and they’d only hung out once, he wasn’t sure how she’d take it if he just pulled her into a hug. His heart ached for her, yet at the same time his own selfish jealousy flared within him, wanting to know precisely what had led to their split, to know if Liam was still a part of her life.

“So, what happened between you two…if you don’t mind me asking?”

“Caught him in bed with someone else,” she sniffed, wiping at her eyes with the back of her hand, “Liam had always had a bit of a wandering eye, but I never thought it would amount to anything serious. It did, so I found this place and moved out as quickly as I could. As you saw, he’s not enjoying dealing with the consequences of his own actions.”

“You think he’ll come back?”

“I dunno,” she shrugged, “I wouldn’t put it past him.”

Billy furrowed his brow, growing pensive for a moment, before an idea occurred to him. “Give me your phone,” he said, holding his hand out.

“What? Why?”

“I’m gonna put my number in it. If he comes back, I want you to ring me okay?”

“So he can deck you again?”

Billy rolled his eyes. “He caught me by surprise, is all. I’ll be ready next time.”

He knew he was lying. Billy had never been a fighter, physical strength just wasn’t a skill he possessed, it was part of the reason the army had rejected him twice. Still, as he entered his number into the contacts of her phone, he knew he’d feel better just knowing he could be there for her.

She never texted him, though over the next couple of weeks they spent every evening that Billy wasn’t working together. At his place, they played Street Fighter and he imposed a rule that she wasn’t allowed to choose Chun Li as her character, as her knowledge of her special moves put her at an unfair advantage. When they were at hers, she read aloud to him from a copy of The Shining by Stephen King – a chapter for each visit. Billy had never enjoyed books, until now; the story was engaging, and not just because of Jack Torrence’s slow descent into madness. Her voice made every word more captivating and he found himself disappointed when each part drew to a close.

He was coming towards the end of an afternoon shift when his phone vibrated in his pocket – a text from an unknown number.

‘Hi stranger. Got a surprise for you back at the flat xxx’

His heart skipped a beat, his pulse racing as he realised it was from her. She’d never text him before, which is why her number wasn’t saved. He wondered what she could possibly have in store for him, and the rest of the afternoon felt as though time had ground to a halt as he waited impatiently to go home.

He frowned as he heard music playing softly from his flat as he arrived back – how had she gotten in? She didn’t have a key.

Opening the door, the music grew louder – some 90s R&B song that he didn’t know that name of, and there were lit candles on the coffee table in the living room.

“H–hello?” he called out, struggling to keep the anxious tremor from his voice.

“In here,” a voice replied from the bedroom.

He froze at the sound of it. He knew that voice. It filled him with a sense of dread, and for a moment, he considered simply turning and leaving.

Slowly, he made his way to the bedroom, pausing in the doorway. The sight within formed a pit in his stomach. His ex, Becky, lay provocatively on her side, her curves encased in lacy black lingerie, as she looked at him with a sultry smile upon her lips. Six months ago, he’d have been a goner for the display before him, now it made bile rise in his throat.

“Hiya, gorgeous,” she cooed, “I’ve missed you.”

His lips set into a hard line as he looked away, annoyance in his tone. “Becky, what the fuck are you playing at? How did you even get in?”

“I wanted to see you,” she said, pouting as she slipped off the bed to move towards him, “and I’ve still got my key.”

Realisation set in – the text had been from her. On the advice of Lana, he had deleted Becky’s number when they’d split for good, a means of avoiding the temptation to reach out to her. It had helped a lot in the process of getting over her. But it was now apparent that she had kept his.

He backed away from her as she reached for him, his face hardened in an expression of disgust and anger as he clenched his fists at his sides. His nostrils flared as he battled to keep his voice from raising. “Well, you can give your fucking key back when you leave. I don’t want you here.”

“You can’t be serious?” she scoffed, “You are rejecting me?”

He stared at her, unable to believe that this was a person who he had once mourned the loss of – he felt nothing but irritation seeing her now, a desperate need to be rid of her. “I am, yeah. You bailed when things fell apart. I don’t need you hanging around like a bad smell now that they’re finally piecing back together. Get out.”

“You’ll regret this, Billy,” she said angrily, her movements erratic and hurried as she snatched her tan coloured trench coat from the floor and belted it around herself, “you won’t do better than me.”

“I think I already have. Keys,” he demanded, holding his hand out.

She pulled them hastily from her pocket, chucking them towards him, before barging past him and out of the flat. Billy followed, watching her leave. She paused once in the hallway, looking to her right and smiling, before turning her attention back to him.

“Bye then, Billy,” she said, her tone saccharinely sweet. She blew him a kiss and then sauntered away.

His brow furrowed in confusion at the sudden change in her behaviour, until he looked to the left and saw his neighbour standing in the hallway, her copy of The Shining clutched to her chest. Her eyes were wide, a look of shock upon her face, though Billy was certain he could also see something akin to hurt reflected in their depths.

“Oh,” was all she uttered, before hurrying back inside and slamming her door behind her.

No. No. No. No. No.

“Fuck!” he cursed under his breath, slamming his hand against the doorframe in frustration.

Billy’s heart felt as though it was dropping endlessly through his body. Every part of him screamed at him to go after her, to explain to her what had happened, to reassure that what they had was – what?

The more he thought about it, the more he realised he didn’t quite know what was occurring between them. It would be weird for him to show up at her door and explain all of that away, under the assumption that she’d care. Perhaps he’d misread the situation, but as he retreated back into his flat he couldn’t shake the heavy burden of misery that settled upon him. There was a lingering sense of loss, a feeling that he had just allowed something important to slip through his fingers.

Billy fell back into a state of miserable, lifeless existence over the following week. There were no further hangouts with his neighbour, and he ached with the sensation of missing her. The flat grew messier with each passing day, but he found himself not caring, trapped in his own cowardice of not being able to simply reach out to her. All it would take was a knock at her door, but it felt too big, too scary. The curtains had closed around his world once more.

As he stuffed his hands into his coat pockets on his way to work one afternoon, his fingers brushed against a slip of paper. Fishing it out, he saw that it was the pink post-it note she had left on his door the morning after they’d first met. He smiled faintly at the memory, though his heart twinged with sadness. He looked at the URL scrawled at the bottom – he had forgotten about it until now.

During a lull between customers at the pub, Billy disappeared around the corner of the bar, pulling his phone free from his jeans pocket and hastily typed the link from the note into the browser. It led to the page to register for an open evening at a local vocational college. He’d left it so long to check it out, that the day was now only a week away. For a moment, he considered simply locking his phone again and forgetting about it. It was overwhelming, the unknown, the possibility for failure, but something niggled at the back of his mind – the memory of how enthusiastically she’d offered to help him out – he owed it to her to register. Before he had time to convince himself otherwise, he input his details, hit submit and then pocketed his phone once more.

As he worked the rest of his shift, his mind was preoccupied by thoughts of the open evening. What if they told him he was too stupid, laughed at him for even considering applying to any of the courses and told him he was useless?

He realised he needed someone there with him, otherwise he wouldn’t go at all. For a moment, he considered asking Lana, but that would put too much pressure on the situation – she’d ask too many demanding questions, expect him to know straight away what course he wanted to apply to, and then feed it all back to their parents. That was the absolute last thing he needed; nagging from mum and disapproval from dad. He wanted her there with him, the person who had started all of this in the first place. She made him feel supported and inspired, and the thought of having her by his side made it seem less overwhelming. The question was, would she even want to come?

Once he finished work, he found himself outside of her flat, fist raised to the door, but not quite able to knock. In the time they hadn’t spoken, their friendship had existed in limbo to Billy – it either was or it wasn’t, but there was still the hope to cling to that she did still think fondly of him. He hated the idea of knocking on her door and her reacting negatively, telling him to get lost. It would add a sense of finality to it all, confirm once and for all that he was alone again.

Fucking idiot, just knock, he muttered to himself, before finally rapping his knuckles against the wood.

He heard her soft footsteps on the other side of the door before she opened it and for a moment Billy just stood there, lips parted and unable to say anything as his entire body surged with warmth at the sight of her. Her hair was loose, tousled around her shoulders, and she was wearing an oversized white t-shirt and pyjama shorts – it looked as though she was ready for bed.

Her eyes widened slightly at the sight of him, obviously not expecting to see him. “Everything okay?” she asked, a tinge of concern colouring her tone.

It was then Billy realised he hadn’t said anything, had just been gawping at her like a creep. He lowered his gaze, swallowing thickly as embarrassment made his cheeks blaze. “S–sorry…yeah…I erm…I registered for that open evening at the college you mentioned.”

“Oh…oh, right,” she said slowly, nodding as she wrapped her arms around herself, “that’s good…that’s really good.”

“It’s next week,” he told her, finally looking up to meet her gaze, “I wondered if you wouldn’t mind coming with me…if…if you’re not busy?”

She chewed her lip anxiously for a moment before replying. “Isn’t that something you’d want your girlfriend to go with you to?”

Billy sighed in frustration, pinching the bridge of his nose. He knew exactly what she was referring to. Of course that was what she had thought. Fucking Becky.

“She’s not my girlfriend,” he admitted, “I mean…she was, but she hasn’t been for a long time.”

“What was she doing at your place then?”

Billy fought the urge to smile at the imploring look upon her face as she asked that question. She was jealous, and it made his stomach flip to know she still liked him enough to feel that way.

“Can I come in before I answer that?”

She gave a slight nod, stepping aside to let him in before closing the door behind them. They both took a seat on the sofa, and Billy felt a part of himself grow lighter as he was once more immersed in the familiarity of her flat. It felt like just as much of a home to him as his own place did.

Billy turned the upper portion of his body to face her, watching as she placed a cushion in her lap to cover her bare legs as her shorts rode up her bare thighs. The sight made his throat run dry, and he had to wet his lips before he spoke, to remind himself why he was actually here.

“Her name’s Becky,” he began, “we split up about six months ago. She left me when my life had gone to shit – that’s something I wanna tell you about one day, once I’m ready. I want you to know. But yeah, she came round, wanting to rekindle something, I guess. I chucked her out, and that’s the end of it.”

Billy watched her, eager for her to say something, anything, as she stared pensively at the cushion she held in her lap, her fingers idly stroking its edges. “I suppose it’s not my place to be upset, considering my ex decked you,” she finally said, her voice quiet, “and really, it’s none of my business–”

“But I want it to be your business,” he interrupted, “I don’t want anyone thinking I’m still with her, especially not you!”

His eyes were wide as he stared at her, hoping that she could see he was being sincere. She said nothing as she stared back, though her posture softened, becoming less defensive.

Billy wasn’t sure who moved first, but he hoisted her into his lap as their lips connected, weeks of pent up tension melting away as their mouths moved with urgency. His tongue licked against hers, messy and desperate, as he hands caressed and squeezed every part of her body his hands could reach. She was soft, so soft, and she felt right against him. He cock stirred to life, hardening in his jeans with embarrassing quickness.

When they broke for air, both panting softly, she pulled her head back as he tried to kiss her again.

“What is it?” he asked, stroking his hands up and down her sides in a soothing gesture. She hadn’t moved off of his lap and didn’t look disgusted by what had happened, much to Billy’s relief.

“I just…maybe it’s too much, too quickly?” she whispered, “We’ve both got so much baggage, I don’t want to lose you if this doesn’t work out.”

Billy shook his head, giving her hips a gentle squeeze. “I get it, I do. But why write it off before we’ve even given it a chance? I’m sick and tired of waiting for my life to start, tired of acting like we’re just mates. Can we just…”

He threaded his fingers into her messy hair, guiding her lips back to his. This time she didn’t pull away, she kissed back eagerly, only stopping to tug her t-shirt up and over her head, chucking it to the side as she straddled his lap. 

Fuck, she was gorgeous.

His hands trailed up her bare torso, tentatively palming her breasts, feeling their weight and softness in his palms. When she lifted off of his lap to tug down her pyjama shorts, she giggled as she watched him struggle with the button and zipper of his jeans. God, he loved her laugh, he’d missed that sound. He pulled her back onto his lap with a lazy grin, his eyes screwing shut as a groan escaped him. The feeling of her wet folds stroking across the head of his hardened cock sent shockwaves of pleasure shooting all the way up his spine, making him feel light headed.

“Go slow,” he pleaded, as she sank down onto him, enveloping him in her tight heat. He knew it would be over all too soon if she continued to make him feel like this. His balls were already drawing up tight against his body.

“Thought you were tired of going slow,” she teased with an experimental roll of her hips.

“Fucking hell,” he gritted out, burying his face in the crook of her neck as she rode him. Each rock of her hips made his entire body tense and tremble. The slap of their flesh meeting punctuated every undulation of her hips, combined with their soft pants and moans.

“You have to stop,” he whimpered, as the telltale build of pressure at the base of his spine signalled his end, “I’m gonna–”

“It’s okay,” she whispered, tugging at the hair at the base of his neck to prompt him to look up into her eyes, “let go for me.”

Billy stilled, holding her hips in a grip so hard he was certain he’d leave bruises as his vision turned white, his mind going blank as his cock pulsated and spilled inside of her. The sensation made his entire body shudder, his thoughts not returning until the last of the tremors had subsided.

“Fuck…fuck…” he panted, brushing his hair away from his forehead as he looked up at her, “I’m sorry, you didn’t–”

“It’s fine,” she reassured him, pecking his lips gently with hers, “you’re not getting away with doing this just once tonight.”

A grin spread across Billy’s face. He was no longer a bystander in his own life, and he had her to thank for that.

Read on AO3

More Billy fics

[chock-and-bates]

if you're still doing it, what is get him back about?

(and for the other anon that mentioned it! but i'll be using your ask to post about the other story you asked about ❤️)

get him back! is my silly little fic for bearnelli (also heavy on lestappen [ofc] and some chollie)

Premise: Kimi’s been down bad for Ollie for over a year. But ever since their rookie f1 season started, he’s been beyond jealous that all his friend can seem to talk about is Charles Leclerc.  When he realizes that Ollie genuinely likes Charles, is, in fact, infatuated enough to consider making a move, he loses it and goes to Max for advice.  Surprisingly, Max turns out to be very willing to help Kimi get his man (while also staking a claim on his.)

this one is fun because i have two outlines and it might be a sillier 5 +1 thing or it might be a bit more toxic. i haven’t quite decided, but it will definitely include jealous kimi, jealous/possessive max, oblivious charles, and infatuated ollie (because @honeyandthunderstorms and I a chollie vision that is so fun, omg)... and some lestappen smut 😏.

Snippet under the cut!

“You seem upset,” Max tells Kimi carefully as they walk back through the paddock. “Are you all right?”

Glancing around, Kimi jerks his head to indicate Max to follow him to a quieter corner, one where he can speak more freely.

“Is Russell being a dickhead again,” Max asks, a little too knowingly. The Red Bull driver was always excited to hear about any issues that Kimi was having with his teammate.

“No, it is not George,” Kimi frowns, weighing how much to actually tell Max. It’s just- if he doesn’t talk to someone about this he thinks he’s going to explode.

“Then what?”

“It is Ollie.”

“Oh,” Kimi doesn’t like the teasing way Max smiles, his eyes crinkling, “What did Bearman do? I thought you two were mates?”

And look, Kimi could tell Max a lot about what Ollie has done. He could tell him how some nights Ollie is all Kimi can think about, or how one of his favorite things to do is make Ollie laugh, or maybe he could even tell Max about that wonderful, horrible kiss that happened last season…

But Kimi is not stupid, he knows better than to embarrass himself in front of someone like Max Verstappen.

In his angry state, he does not, however, have any issues with embarrassing Ollie.

“I need to get him to shut up about how in love he is with Leclerc.”

The smile quickly slides off Max's face.

“What?”

“He will not stop talking about Leclerc,” Kimi continues, already feeling himself getting worked up, “Any time we are hanging out, all I hear is ‘Charles said this’ or ‘I was watching Charles onboards’ or ‘Charles sat by me on the plane’. I cannot take anymore of him and his stupid crush! It is driving me crazy.”

Max has been listening closely, looking very serious all of a sudden, “You really think he has a crush?”

And Kimi knows he shouldn’t say anything more, should just leave it at that and keep Ollie’s secret. But the hurt and jealousy are still too overwhelming-

So Kimi scowls and continues, “I know he does, Max! Today I told him he should just kiss Leclerc already since he is so obsessed with him. Then he got all weird and asked me what I thought Leclerc would do if he did kiss him. Or if I thought Leclerc could ever like him.”

Max’s face twitches, “Oh, really?”

[timesorceror]

If you've found this list of fic recs via my Dreamling Fic Recs Masterpost, then you know this list is one of many.

However, if you came upon this list some other way, then know that it is in no way an exhaustive archive of the best of the best in Dreamling (especially since Tumblr posts have a link limit of 100 inline links per post – which this one, according to my calculations). For the full spiel about how this list came to be and a link to my Google Doc with the most up-to-date full list, please see the Masterpost for details.

All you need to know is that this list works sort of like a menu at a restaurant. You're here to eat at Restaurant Dreamling, and the item categories on this menu are of course:

Alternate Universe

Angst with a Happy Ending

Character Study

Crossover

Fishbowl Rescue

Fluff

Friends / Enemies to Lovers

Getting Together

Each category, of course, has sub-category flavor profiles like Hurt/Comfort, Omegaverse, and Dreamsharing, followed by the menu items (i.e., the thing you're here for – the fic recs).

All fic recs in this list are complete, for your reading consideration.

I hope that explanation was enough to get you hungry for some tasty Dreamling fics, and may you have a wonderful dining experience!

Alternate Universe

Canon Divergence AU

a lucky break(out) by cuubism | Teen

Hob acquires a familiar ruby at an antiquities sale. Said ruby summons something else into his home as well. [3 Chapters | 9,892 words]

Amor Vincit Omnia by Lalaith_Quetzalli | Teen

Death is tired of seeing her favorite brother die, cycle after cycle, unable to do anything to save him. Until she realizes that even if she might not be able to do that. Maybe there’s someone else who can. Someone who cares for her brother just as much as she does, if in a different way, someone who’s willing to kill and die and live for him, someone who’ll love him… [3 Chapters | 9,282 words]

It's Rotten Work by Rhinozilla | Teen

Hob visits his storage unit outside Buffalo, New York, on a rainy night. He’s taken to keeping caches like this one around the world…kind of a ‘just in case’ contingency plan. He gets more than he bargained for when he hears a racket coming from the neighboring unit. He didn’t really have a contingency plan for what and who he finds in there. [3 Chapters | 9,990 words]

Ghost / Medium AU

For Now by softestpunk | Mature

Dream talks to ghosts, and writes their stories. One of his ghosts—an Eleanor Gadlen—has a very interesting story to tell about her husband. A man Dream sees in his local café on a weekly basis. [3 Chapters | 18,845 words]

Magic AU

Veil of Great Surprises by equus8 | Teen

Dream wakes from his slumber to find nothing much has actually changed in his life, except how he feels about himself. [...] Dream doesn’t know what he is doing anymore: Hob Gadling, it seems, has it all figured out, and Dream has to know how he manages to keep going. [10 Chapters | 41,990 words]

Modern Setting AU

Cupid's spines by que_lla | Mature

The thing is ugly. It’s roundish and bumpy and its spines are black and irregular. The more Hob looks at it, the more he’s impressed by how truly horrid it looks. [...] “Excellent find,” a deep and beautiful voice says, making him almost jump. “You have chosen a magnificent specimen.” [6 Chapters | 13,261 words]

Selkie AU

i must go down to the seas again, to the lonely sea and the sky by celestarium (meadowziplines) | Mature

Dream is missing a piece of his soul; he doesn't know he's missing it: doesn't know he's a Selkie, separated from his skin as a baby. He is depressed and feels like he's full of broken pieces, and his sister coaxes him into interacting with Hob Gadling, a swimmer aspiring to swim the English Channel. It won't fix everything. But it could be the start of something new. [2 Chapters | 6,919 words]

Soulmates AU

Eight Poppies by RedBlackOwl (Shaylayn) | Teen

Dream gets a soulmate despite not wanting one. So he chooses to ignore their existence, believing that the problem will solve itself in a couple of decades, when the human dies. Unfortunately for him, the Universe has other plans. [3 Chapters | 15,044 words]

love, i see you now by ink_and_rain | Mature

5 times Dream of the Endless calls Hob Gadling by his full name, and one time he doesn't. [4 Chapters | 19,908 words]

Wings AU

these wings of night (you were only waiting for this moment to fly) by celestarium (meadowziplines) | Teen

By the time a summoning spell rips his essence apart and deposits him in the basement of Fawney Rig in 1916, Morpheus has not let [his wings] out in millennia. They are a constant low ebb of pain, but it is easier to shove that part of himself into a box than the amount of hurt they cause when out. [2 Chapters | 4,837 words]

Angst with a Happy Ending

Age Regression/De-Aging

Dream Myself Away by Anonymous | Not Rated

Dream's emotions explode and he is reduced to toddler size, the dream vortex is still out there, the Corinthian is a concern, and everyone works together to look after Morpheus. [11 Chapters | 46,897 words]

Canon Divergence AU

You Found Me by Avelera | Teen

Hob Gadling is recently divorced and not in a good mental place when Dream walks into the New Inn over thirty years late for their appointment. So, instead of warmly welcoming Dream, Hob decides to finally give him a piece of his mind. As far as he's concerned, it's Dream's turn to be the good friend if he wants Hob back in his life. He was not expecting Dream to take him up on that challenge. [2 Chapters | 15,247 words]

Conversations

Tread of an Echo by LivingProof | Teen

Hob Gadling does not free Dream of the Endless from his prison in the Burgess estate. There is no grand rescue. No barging in, guns blazing, no daring adventure, no dashing escape. There is only this, after. Pints in the New Inn and coffee and conversation in Hob’s office and the slow, slow building of a bridge, brick by brick. Hob does not free Dream from his prison. But he might help save Dream, all the same. [2 Chapters | 14,126 words]

Different First Meeting AU

I loved and I loved and I lost you by Dino_Cattivo | General Audiences

Dream never went into the tavern with his sister. It was Death who fascinated by Hob grants him immortality. Years later Hob and Dream meet each other not knowing about each other's connection to Death assuming the other is human. [5 Chapters | 28,446 words]

Dreamsharing

A Different Kind of Burn by Ruby_Casablanca | Mature

Wherein Hob dreams of war, Morpheus dreams of an escape from his prison, and over the span of many years, they fall into dreams that blur the lines between friendship and something more. [4 Chapters | 14,142 words]

Fairy Tale Elements

the silent isle imbowers by tharkuun | Mature

Hob Gadling remembers the last dream he ever had when he was a boy; he remembers the strange man he met within it, and the war that already was consuming the Dreaming. Sometimes he thinks he would do anything to save that Dream King, if the stories happened to be true. One day, he just might. [9 Chapters | 31,422 words]

Falling In Love

Vortex Street by Ouiche | Mature

“And that’s why, when the 21st century started, I decided I wanted to understand how it worked. I got a degree in aeronautics, and before I knew it I was in the middle of a PhD. That’s how I became a physicist.” “I remember recruiting two physicists in 1909, to work for me," Dream says pensively. “Henri Bénard and Theodore von Kármán.” Hob’s eyebrows lifts. “You had a bit of a vortex problem?” [14 Chapters | 44,564 words]

Fishbowlmates AU

And Though I Burn (How Could I Fall) by Purplesauris | Explicit

In 1916, Dream is summoned by an amateur magician while chasing a rogue nightmare. In 1916, Hob Gadling is caught in the cross fire of said summoning. [12 Chapters | 52,588 words]

Human / Ghost AU

No Grave (Can Hold My Body Down) by JustJReally | Teen

“You’re a ghost,” Morpheus reminds Hob. “You’re not obligated to me anymore. You’re- you’re free to go,” he says. [...] Hob deflates. It’s strangely literal; his feet touch the floor for the first time in this conversation. “That’s. Kind of you. I think,” he says, in the tones of a ten-year-old who’s been given socks for his birthday and is trying very hard to be polite about it. “I’d rather not, though? [6 Chapters | 18,907 words]

Hurt/Comfort (Fishbowl Rescue)

Best Laid Plans by imnotcryingipromise | Teen

In which Hob Gadling intends to have a fling with a guard in Burgess' mansion and instead stumbles upon his stranger. [2 Chapters | 10,884 words]

nurse my pride, throw in a please by OrangeChickenPillow | Teen

Hob is a patient man, and Dream is a stubborn one. [...] And, naturally, he also hadn't seen it coming when she told him that his stranger needed his help. But if Hob had learned anything in his unnaturally long life. [6 Chapters | 58,368 words]

Sing Me To Sleep by Rhythm_of_Light | General Audiences

Dream’s hands were cold as they cupped Hob’s face, desperate to hold on to this reality. “I’m here, I’m real,” Hob said, wrapping the coat around Morpheus’ shoulders, drawing it around his thin frame. Or, Jessamy enlists the help of Hob Gadling to free Dream of the Endless. [2 Chapters | 3,359 words]

Sycamore, Ash, Moss And Loam by Rauchendes_GNU | Mature

Hob Gadling doesn't really expect having to save his Stranger from his prison in Fawney Rig. Dream doesn't expect to have his Endless essence ripped from him by a brutal spell that leaves him weak and painfully human. Lucky for him, Hob has gone through many lifetimes and knows how to be human. [35 Chapters | 53,572 words]

Through a Fractured Existence by Stormysaslytherin | Mature

The grimoire Burgess uses to trap Dream contains a more sinister secret, something that will strip power and essence from the Endless. [...] Hob is having terrible dreams all seemingly centering around his Stranger and the need to find him. Except he has no place to start and the journey may change him forever. [21 Chapters | 84,934 words]

Hurt/Comfort (Pre Fishbowl)

Having or Seeming to Have No End or Limit by r_n_g_are_dead | Teen

A love story between two beings who have all the time in the world, and yet nowhere near enough. A dive into how Hob Gadling and Dream of the Endless fell for each other, from their 1789 meeting through the present (and beyond…), and in which Dream breaks their 100-years pact before their pact is broken for them. Because Hob was right: Dream is lonely. [11 Chapters |  31,039 words]

Hob needs a nap by Dino_Cattivo | General Audiences

Hob can't seem to fall asleep if he isn't cuddled by someone. The problem is he has no one, ever since he was driven out of his home and to the street. Will things change when he meets his stranger in the White Horse? [2 Chapters | 8,957 words]

Hurt/Comfort (Post Fishbowl)

Dreamling Febu-Whump angst-fest by Mistressaq | Teen

Hob has settled in on a weekend grading papers on his sofa when his former-Stranger-current-Friend appears out of thin air and crashes onto his coffee table. Hob’s fight-or-flight kicks in, and regrettably, after six hundred years on this Earth, his instinct is fight. [..] He succeeds at nudging Morpheus, so he rolls onto his back and reveals the puddle of blood growing beneath him. [5 Chapters | 12.131 words]

find hope in the hopeless by Thesuspiciousflyingjellyfish | Teen

Dream breaks and becomes lost. From this comes Sleep, dreams without hope. And in some ways, it's for the better. [2 Chapters | 18,669 words]

Galaxies on the Floor by aliaoftwoworlds | Teen

Hob hadn’t planned to confess his immortality to anyone, but it had seemed the right thing to do at the time, and he turned out to be very grateful for it one day as he and his most knowledgeable student knelt on the floor of a classroom beside the smoldering body of a demon, trying to hold down a writhing, shapeshifting creature that usually masqueraded as Hob’s man-shaped lover. [11 Chapters | 55,913 words]

Liminal Space by Rhinozilla | Teen

Hob sustains a mortal wound when he instinctively blocks an attack meant for Dream. Before this, Dream has never been a witness to any of Hob’s “deaths.” Even though it’s only temporary, the shock and sorrow immediately overwhelm him, and he burns. Everything. Hob catches glimpses of the chaos during his resuscitation. [3 Chapters | 9,348 words]

Stained Glass World by BlueEcho (Zwetschge14) | General Audiences

The cracks and damages in the walls of the Dreaming - the aftermath of the Vortex - causes the dreams and nightmares of Dreamers all over the Dreaming to bleed together, and unprepared for the sheer number of Dreamers, dreams and nightmares, Dream finds himself overwhelmed and unable to deal with the situation. The only thing he can do is seek refuge with his oldest friend. [5 Chapters | 13,229 words]

Strains of a Melody by ginoeh | Mature

When Hob Gadling strands on Naxos at the beginning of the 20th century, some long-laid plans and designs unravel. While the great stories always return to their original form, for some this is the start of an entirely new narrative. The Fates, though, demand their due and neither Dream not Hob are free until all debts are paid in full. [6 Chapters | 55,526 words]

the gift of hindsight by itsthechocopuff | Teen

What if, when they meet in the twenty-first century, Hob is a little more human, a little slower to forgive, and Dream a little more cognizant of how one should treat centuries-old friends, though no more socially competent? Or: Dream's admission that Hob is his friend prompts a realisation of what else Dream's longest - and only - friend means to him. [3 Chapters | 13,733 words]

Unsung Lullabies by Cheshyr | Teen

An attack on the Dreaming leaves Dream wounded and weakened in an unexpected way- physically, mentally, and emotionally, Dream is temporarily left as a child. Hob is given the task of watching over him until he heals, which seems simple enough, but slowly through their time together he learns more about the things his love struggles with and why. He learns more about Dream’s family, and the ways he’s been hurt that he won’t admit. But with Hob’s help, he may begin to heal some of his ancient hurts. [7 Chapters | 30,761 words]

Waiting for a star to fall by Dino_Cattivo | General Audiences

After their meeting in the New Inn, Hob starts to have dreams of his Stranger, and they build a relationship in the Dreaming. But not everything is as happy as it seems. [2 Chapters | 11,805 words]

Omegaverse

In Need of Seaside Air by bookslutskye | Teen

After giving birth to his second child, Dream finds himself unable to care for the boy or even himself. Getting out of bed seems an insurmountable task, but the more he rests the worse he feels. Hob, in an attempt to get Dream back to himself, takes the family to the coast until the end of summer. He just hopes it will be enough. [10 Chapters | 20,353 words]

The New Inn is a Temple

I Threw Glass at My Friend's Eyes and Now i’m on Probation by TheStemCell | Teen

Or how to unknowingly build a shrine to the personification of dreams, only for him to appear wet and naked outside your pub. A raven is there. [2 Chapters | 16,467 words]

Time Loop

Tuesday Morning Blues by Moorishflower | Mature

Too many sad days / Too many Tuesday mornings / I thought of you today / I wished it was yesterday morning. | Hob Gadling wakes up. He wakes up. He wakes up. [14 Chapters | 36,685 words]

Character Study

Dream of the Endless│Morpheus Needs a Hug

Perspective by Ardin | Teen

The dreams and nightmares have all been returned or otherwise handled. The cracks from the ghost hiding in the Dreaming have gone - the baby may be an issue at some point, but not now. [...] So why can't Dream rest? Maybe because while everything has been put to rights, it has also changed. And so has he. It would be nice to have someone to talk to about that. But maybe he already does. [4 Chapters | 18,896 words]

Crossover

Good Omens

A Demon Walks Into A Bar by LapisLazuli13 | Teen

And accidentally finds an immortal human whom he can share a drink with and grumble about how dense some certain oblivious otherworldly beings are. Hob Gadling has only one thing to complain about in this whole situation. “I own an inn, not a bar.” “For the sake of the joke just shut up and agree with me.” [2 Chapters | 4,211 words]

strange friends in strange places by multifandom_fanfic_writer | Teen

Hob makes a friend at the Classic Car Convention and stumbles upon a strange bookshop. When his Stranger asks him for help to find a certain grimoire, things get even more confusing. [3 Chapters | 11,485 words]

Shadowhunters

A Dream of Rescue by Aria_Lerendeair | Teen

Magnus Bane receives orders to investigate what is a trapped warlock (or something demonic) in the basement of one Roderick Burgess. He isn't expecting to come across two creatures already planning a rescue of said captive. Even more than that - he isn't expecting the captive to be an Endless, of all things.  [13 Chapters | 51,299 words]

Fishbowl Rescue

During WWI

what could have been by imnotcryingipromise | Teen

A multipart fic beginning with Dreamling reuniting in 1889 and detailing Dream’s capture and Hob’s attempt to rescue him. [5 Chapters | 22,441 words]

Post WWI

The Barghest Nightmare by Aria_Lerendeair | Mature

It was 1906 when Hob was bitten by a creature. Seventeen years later, after rescuing his Stranger from the basement of a manor, Hob finds out that he's not just a hybrid werewolf type. No, he's something far beyond even his own imagination, something that only his Stranger knows and understands. Now if only he could find a way not to be a burden to his Stranger… [2 Chapters | 19,195 words]

fall asleep to dreams of home (where the waves are crashing) by Thranduilland | Mature

Everyone has a soulmate and until soulmates meet, they see the world in black and white. Dream didn't think he had a soulmate, until he asks a man in 1389 if he'd heard correctly that they weren't going to die... [5 Chapters | 18,692 words]

Hob to the rescue by Anonymous | Teen

Hob Gadling attends a party at Roderick Burgess’s mansion at the request of his client, following the rumour of a ‘devil’ in the magus’s basement. To his utter surprise, Hob finds none other than his mysterious stranger. Well, Hob can’t leave him there, can he? [2 Chapters | 7,185 words]

In Awe, I Stand by sleepsonfutons | Teen

A tale of awe inspired. On one side, Hob Gadling experiencing revelation; on the other, Dream experiencing the unexpected and unbridled want of his immortal companion. [2 Chapters | 1,991 words]

In the arms of Morpheus | Dans les bras de Morphée. by aalisse | Teen

Death comes for a raven, and finds her brother. He doesn't ask her for help, but prevents her possible entrapment, so she finds Hob Gadling and suggests he do something about the situation at hand. Cue a one man rescue mission in 1926, which leads to dozens of years of platonic, yet vaguely romantic dating both in the waking world and in the Dreaming. [2 Chapters | 12,320 words]

Into Darkness and Howling (I'll Keep Him From Drowning) by TinyButFierce | Teen

It was beginning to sound like Roderick Burgess had something or someone trapped in his basement. Hob was starting to wonder if he should do something about that. [4 Chapters | 6,157 words]

little by little, and also in great leaps by she_who_loves_dreamling (all_fandoms_reader) | Teen

In one world, Jessamy and Death depart for the Sunless lands, and it will be long years before Dream is free. This is not that world. ~ Hob is eating breakfast on Tuesday, August 10th, in the year of our Lord 1926, when Death comes knocking. [5 Chapters | 21,331 words]

the price of salvation by imnotcryingipromise | Teen

Wealthy businessman, Robyn Stranger is invited to the auction of an unknown supernatural being, held hostage by one Roderick Burgess. The immortal willingly accepts the invitation -given his current penchant for liberating enslaved mortals from their deluded, “magic using” captors- unaware that he is more familiar with the being trapped below, than he ever could have imagined. [5 Chapters | 23,305 words]

The Virtue of Compassion by Konstadt | Mature

Randall Burgess survived the Gallipoli campaign, albeit only just. [...] Randall is forgotten by the wayside and finds a strange comaraderie with the being locked up beyond his reach. He couldn't imagine they had more in common than simply being trapped, much less anything that could be the key to both of them escaping their respective cages. [6 Chapters | 29,735 words]

June 1989

A Dark Familiar Stranger by PH03N1X_360 | Teen

It’s a wonder how strangled a man can feel if he cannot breathe, but he cannot die. In which the lack of air in the cage causes Dream to hallucinate and Hob breaks his Stranger out of the Burgess Mansion. [3 Chapters | 4,268 words]

All My Problems by Hopeful_Foolx | Teen

Hob Gadling is pretty sure his stranger won't show up, and right when he thinks that he should resign himself to his fate, someone else sits down. Death. Handing him a file and information on where and how to get her brother out of... captivity? Really, Hob has broken into places quite a few times, but... Maybe he should not think about what he is about to do so much. [6 Chapters | 23,635 words]

Can I Sleep in Your Brain Tonight, Stranger? by equus8 | Teen

Dream of the Endless gets more than he bargained for in the Burgess' basement. Hob Gadling is just trying to live his comfortable domestic life. Neither of them are prepared for what comes after the glass shatters. [24 Chapters | 69,079 words]

Post 1989

On Hallowed Ground by midnightstarfield | Not Rated

In 1889, Hob said something before thinking it through- or at least that's what he thought in the aftermath. When his Stranger didn't show for their annual centennial meeting, he thought he'd never see him again. However, when he has a strange dream some thirty years after he starts to think that some things might have been out of his control. Maybe his Stranger was lonely but unwilling to admit it and maybe he hadn't missed their meeting willingly. [6 Chapters | 14,420 words]

Fluff

Domestic Fluff

in a moon's turn - flufftober 2022 by neila777 | Teen

Hob opens his eyes to a blue sky and Dream, still at his side. “Hi,” Hob laughs, delight blooming in his chest. Dream smiles softly, “Hello.”  [16 Chapters | 8,252 words]

First Kiss

Paleontology by softestpunk | General Audiences

In 2022, Hob shows Dream a fossil he'd meant to show him in 1889. In Hob's dreams, later, Dream explores a missed opportunity.  [2 Chapters | 4,945 words]

Getting Together

Braided Longing by Aria_Lerendeair | Teen

Watching Hob Gadling weave braids into the hair of his students as he tells them stories, Dream is filled with the longing for one of the braids that Hob speaks of. One of kinship, an eternal bond, publicly on display for all. However, he is unsure if Hob feels the same. Would Hob wear the same braid to match? A braid for them?  [3 Chapters | 13,450 words]

watch the world from the sidelines by hondayotas | Teen

dream has always been on the periphery of life, never wanting to get his hands messy, but hob gadling is pulling him in more than he'd like to admit. [3 Chapters | 13,450 words]

Hurt/Comfort

Closing the Distance by Ryunya | Mature

Distance (and time) make the heart grow fonder, and both Dream and Hob are very happy to be finally reunited. However, Dream gets affected by the Waking world in ways he never has before, and that complicates things a bit. [7 Chapters | 18,096 words]

If you would have me by HanaSheralHaminail | Teen

In his cat form, Dream stretched out his body and yawned languidly. The key shimmered into existence, pulled from the dream of a young writer who fashioned stories of fae queens and mortal sailors, of treasure chests and friendship forged through hardship. “The person who first takes the key from him shall become my spouse.”  [2 Chapters | 17,748 words]

I cannot be gently held by imnotcryingipromise | Teen

Hob Gadling is left comatose after a car accident. Dream of the Endless seeks to use Hob’s extended stay in his realm to repair their centuries old friendship.  [2 Chapters | 17,748 words]

I will find you in your dreams by Salmaka | Teen

A story where Dream, confused and weak from his time in isolation doesn't make it back to the Dreaming but ends up in Hob's house instead.  [9 Chapters | 13,319 words]

Maybe I can stay a little while longer by TheOne_who_Lovesthe_Moon | Mature

Dream finally works up the courage to visit Hob after his capture. They do what they always do: Talk. Talk about Hob's life. But Hob finally wants to know more about Dream, but the Endless is unsure what to tell his immortal friend. So Hob makes it his new mission in life to get to know Dream, whatever it takes. [16 Chapters | 13,619 words]

Metamorphosis by Windsweptinred | Mature

"Where there is Time, there must be Night." "Order, Chaos" "Life, Unlife" "Father, Mother" "And found your Night, long ago, did you not?"  [6 Chapters | 24,089 words]

Patience is a Conquering Virtue by Moorishflower | Mature

Hob will wait as long as it takes. A six-hundred year (give or take) slow burn through dreams and memories.  [13 Chapters | 22,180 words]

Serendipity (Shall I Dream Of Our Destiny?) by LapisLazuli13 | Teen

A story where Dream, confused and weak from his time in isolation doesn't make it back to the Dreaming but ends up in Hob's house instead.  [9 Chapters | 14,756 words]

Terms of Endearment by BeholdingTheGaytimes | Mature

It’s been somewhere between two or three months, he reckons, since Hob started consistently having domestic dreams about a man he hasn’t seen in about a hundred and thirty years. It’s only a bit mortifying. Dreams and the subconscious are odd, and he’s not going to start judging himself now for any wanton desires.  [6 Chapters | 13,871 words]

The Weight Of Our Memories by RambleOnWaywardSon | Teen

Dream shows Hob where he's been, and Hob shows Dream something about how to heal. [4 Chapters | 6,972 words]

What our unknown years to come might do by dreamline | Not Rated

Dream returns to Hob after their 2022 reunion to find him unwell. What follows is Hob’s stubborn insistence that he is fine and Dream’s determination to see him healed. [4 Chapters | 26,890 words]

Retired Dream of the Endless | Morpheus

Normal by cuubism | Teen

Since retiring and becoming human, Dream has been far more stoic about his pain than Hob was expecting. [4 Chapters | 6,576 words]

Touch-Starved Dream of the Endless

enough for now by im_not_corrupted | General Audiences

Dream is unused to physical affection. Hob is in love and more than willing to help him with that.  [2 Chapters | 5,396 words]

Flying in a dream, Stars by the pocketful by ParadoxInsanity | General Audiences

Dream looked up at Hob, eyes filled with reverence. And stars. There were stars in his eyes. Like very literal stars. Shining little pinpricks of light. Stars. Stars. "Woah." "Hm?" Dream nuzzled into Hob's hand, confused why his ministrations had stopped. "Your eyes, they– they're stars. Like a night sky. Before the industrial revolution."  [2 Chapters | 2,554 words]

Friends / Enemies to Lovers

Arranged Marriage

When I Waked, I Cried to Dream Again by 27dragons | Teen

When the dreaded Nightmare King demands the knight Hob for his consort as part of the treaty that ends the bloody war between the Dream Realm and the mortal kingdom to which Hob is sworn, he is shocked… [...] Who knows what other uses the Lord of Nightmares will have for Hob once he's trapped at the heart of the Dreaming? Will the magic that makes him immortal become more of a curse than a blessing?  [10 Chapters | 20,000 words]

Dreamsharing

Hope and Stubbornness Endure by icarus_chained | Mature

There are consequences to being caught in nightmares not your own, in the tormented memories of beings infinitely more powerful than you. Hob Gadling doesn't care. Nightmares can't kill him. And if this was ever real, he has no choice but to try and fight it now. To show ... to show his friend that he would have rescued him. If he'd known. He would have tried, no matter what it cost. [2 Chapters | 4,028 words]

I have lately learned the difference by Chthonion | Mature

While Dream is imprisoned, Hob dreams of prisons, until, one by one, all of them take the same shape: a glass cage. Hob doesn't realize why until he meets Dream again, and the dreams don’t stop afterward. [4 Chapters | 18,085 words]

Fix-It Fic

A Gift of Song by Konstadt | Not Rated

Hob is on a slow journey of discovering all of the many names of his stranger-turned-friend. There are a few more he would like to return to him, if he could. Dream and Hob share stories, until Hob shares one with the world and changes everything. A fix-it fic for Dream's greatest regret.  [2 Chapters | 8,678 words]

Hob Gadling Loves Dream of the Endless | Morpheus

Messages from friends by manzke888 | Not Rated

Hob figures out a way to send letters to Dream, and altough Matthew doesn't like playing the role of a carrier pigeon, the two of them find confort in their correspondence.  [6 Chapters | 5,842 words]

Hurt/Comfort

Afterimage by ScribeofArda | Teen

The anthropomorphic personification of dreaming is sitting on his sofa, staring at a sequin cushion in his lap. His day could be weirder, but Hob isn't quite sure how.  [2 Chapters | 8,648 words]

never enough by sanyumi | Mature

Morpheus needed comfort. Not– this. This delusion that Hob was falling into. [...] That Morpheus clung to him out of want, out of affection. That Morpheus’ cold nose dug into the flesh behind Hob’s ear with intention to lay a kiss there, to bite and leave a mark. [2 Chapters |7,352 words]

Slow Burn

golden days by issylra | Teen

"I could stand to see you more often," Hob says, a little bit hesitant, and Dream’s eyebrows nearly rise into his hairline. "That is truly what you wish?” He’s looking at Hob like he’s an enigma wrapped in a riddle, which is funny coming from a not-quite-man whose name he only learned last year after six hundred years of meeting. [7 Chapters | 21,228 words]

Inspire in Me, the Desire in Me by ElloPoppet | Teen

Dream and Hob find each other in 2021, and see no reason why they have to wait centuries to see each other again. And again. [5 Chapters | 14,850 words]

Maybe This Is All Just a Dream by my_written_minds | Teen

When a man clad in all black walks through the door and admits Hob is his friend, Hob doesn't know whether to hug him or play it cool. [...] In other words, Dream starts talking and doesn't stop. And suddenly these once a century dates are no longer once a century. [6 Chapters | 9,141 words]

Something To Get Used To by my_written_minds | Teen

“I think we should stop catching up,” Hob said. Morpheus stared at him, blindsided. When Morpheus shows up at his table in the New Inn, Hob quickly notices that there's something different about his friend. Everything devolves from there. [4 Chapters | 12,502 words]

Something New and Terrifying by locamohita456 | Teen

It was a regular Saturday when Hob Gadling realized he was in love with Dream of the Endless. Contrary to popular belief, this was not good news. [...] How was he supposed to look Dream in the eye next Saturday? Mainly, how was he supposed to not look at his lips and not think about how much he wanted to kiss him senseless and—oh no! Hob smacked his forehead and groaned. [13 Chapters | 52,285 words]

Getting Together

Dragons AU

Dragon Wars by Aria_Lerendeair | Teen

The war against the Fae began long before Hob was born. When the dragons arrived, at last, they were able to properly fight back. And when the Endless arrived, the war became a stalemate. After meeting and bonding with his own dragon, Hob Gadling does everything in his power (and then some) to end the war once and for all with the help of Dream of the Endless. [6 Chapters | 39,377 words]

Hurt/Comfort 

Finding My Way to You by ShadowTenshiV | Teen

A story of how Hob brings it upon himself to return the dreaming to its former glory, and if that means getting to learn about this being known as the Dream Lord as he goes through a maze, well, that won’t stop him. It won’t be easy, with many challenges to come and memories to face, good thing that he is known for being stubborn. [7 Chapters | 46,048 words]

Let me be your knight by justAperidot | Mature

Hob is delighted his Stranger—who is no longer a stranger, he is Dream—is visiting him more often and letting Hob see more of him. [...] Still, if anything else were to happen to Dream, say, for a completely random example, if he were to go to war against the army of one Lucifer Morningstar, then Hob would be more than ready to go above and beyond to protect him. No matter the cost. It is, after all, what is expected of a knight before his King. [22 Chapters | 38,532 words]

Knight of the Dreaming Hob AU 

What dreams my come, when living is at an end by Sebena | Teen

The one where Hob chose to die in 1689 and joined Morpheus in the Dreaming, commencing one hundred years of slow burn. [9 Chapters | 77,966 words]

Minor Deity Hob AU

A Mug's Game by Anonymous | Mature

Hob Gadling teaches history, flirts with Death, gets a boyfriend, and accidentally breaks the laws of the universe. [4 Chapters | 14,136 words]

MPreg / Accidental Baby Acquisition

Crown of Dreams by booksluteye | Mature

Dream of the Endless is captured by an amateur magic user by the name of Roderick Burgess in 1916. Burgess is demanding gifts in return for Dream's freedom, but Dream refuses. With the stalemate, it looks like he will be stuck there for a long time, until one day when Dream is woken by an intense bout of nausea. It seems he's not the only one trapped in Burgess' basement. [10 Chapters | 12,858 words]

Temporary Amnesia

what you once wanted by astrhae | Mature

You know what kept me going, century after century?” Hob is angry enough, desperate enough, that his voice drops low, quiet. “Even when I had nothing?” The music around them crests, waves crashing against the unyielding shores of time – “Chimneys,” Morpheus answers, bland. Oh, what a bastard. [4 Chapters | 14,136 words]

The New Inn is a Temple

Cling Fast by Losyark | Mature

Hob Gadling is a clingy bastard, and he’s not ashamed to admit it. He clings to life. He clings to hope. He clings to his love of humanity. He clings to his Stranger. He also, unfortunately, has a habit of clinging to his name. Which means, when the BBC is looking for a new pet history expert to appear in their educational docudrama series “Elizabethan Manor,” they’re overjoyed to find a professor who (according to their meticulous research) is actually descended from the Master of the National Trust building they’re filming in - Gadlen House. Only Hob knows how right they are. [13 Chapters | 59,577 words]

keep your secrets by ProblemWithTrouble | Teen

Hob builds a temple, Dream finally returns, and things are left unspoken. For a while.  [5 Chapters | 14,161 words]

Time Travel

Promise of A Thousand Years by Dreams_of_Raven | Teen

An AU in which Hob could travel through time, but every time he did, he always ended up in the nude. [4 Chapters | 9,132 words]

Romantic Fluff

Mine Own Heart by xxSparksxx | Teen

When Dream of the Endless comes back to Hob Gadling, Hob is determined to be a Very Good Friend to him, because Dream's been through some stuff, and if what he needs is a safe haven, then Hob is going to give him that. [...] And alright, maybe that's not all he wants, but it's not about what he wants, it's about what Dream needs, so Hob is going to look after him as best he can, and try not to break his own heart in the meantime. [18 Chapters | 70,265 words]

Soulmate AU

Passing Stranger! (You Do Not Know How Longingly I Look Upon You) by WyvernQuill | Teen

Hob has known that Dream is his mildly star-crossed soulmate since their first meeting in 1389, but believes they have a mutual understanding not to acknowledge it; Dream, meanwhile, was under the impression that the Endless have no soulmates whatsoever, up until their sixth meeting in 1889. Finding out they're wrong comes as a bit of a shock to both of them. [14 Chapters | 25,112 words]

[kindahoping4forever]

🪩🦋

[crescentfool]

What are your ryomina headcanons? I've loved these two since I played P3 FES, and I'm so excited to get back into the fandom^^

hi!! thank you so much for the ask, welcome back to the p3 fandom, it's always a delight to see new and old ryomina fans alike! 🥺💛💙

as for headcanons, here's a "few" i that i tend to come back to a lot! my interpretations of them are influenced from both the source material and other's fanworks, so i've linked to them as i saw fit! hcs in no particular order under the cut because oops this got long (900 word bullet point list, mentions of reload content up to 1/1)

minato's hair is dyed blue (hair originally brown, you can see it in his roots!) and he has a beauty mark on under his left eye. i like mirror imagery and there's definitely a few arts i've rb'd that portray them this way :) (e.g. this one by feliichu and this one by marasschino)

as far as i'm concerned the bathhouse scene from the manga where ryoji's hair down = similar shape to minato? that is canon to me. this art from xierru is a fun depiction of hair down ryoji :D

ryoji is homeless. everyone say thank you foxmulder_whereartthou for this awesome fic it's why i have the headcanon! but like seriously. we have no idea where ryoji lives and i could believe this.

minato dying at the end of the game is sad to an outsider's POV BUT!!! ryomina gets to be together in death for the rest of their lives (this illustration from mafuwara is a gorgeous representation of them as nyx avatar + the seal)!

speaking of the seal, they are like telepathically communicating to me in the great seal together. (mymp3 had a comic wip with this. give it a looksie :D)

ryoji likes cuddling with minato because he's warm :) (something something orpheus has fire affinity, minato is warm by extension and ryoji is cold because he's death)

ryoji's camera roll is filled with pictures of minato! ryoji... loves life, to me. and i feel that photography and journaling are perfect ways of expressing gratitude and capturing the moments in life that are most important to you :3

my other favorite activity for these two is stargazing- i feel like it's something they could appreciate either in life or death (looking at the stars from the great seal...)! they do a bit of this in the fic eurydice's vow by crescentmoontea (P5R spoilers, takes place in third sem it's a very fun fic concept).

between ryoji and minato i feel like ryoji was the one who fell in love first- and it doesn't really click in place for minato that he loves ryoji until december hits (appriser reveal + ryoji transforming into thanatos). its about the realization that ryoji was with him for his whole life and that he gets him like no one else does.

ryoji is like a sad and wet puppy who is so scared minato won't like him back. he is so scared of being rejected by minato to me like. this boy straight up deflates after he does his "i know i said i wanted us to be friends, but... i actually want to be something more." / "what about you?" on 12/1 ???

AND SPEAKING of wet puppy ryoji. ryoji is like. every animal in the world to me. he's a bird. he's a cat. etc. and also ryoji knows every language in the world ever and uses it to express his love for minato. see this fic from superheroics to see what i mean.

both of them are lactose intolerant. "this isn't lactose, it's milk!" i definitely think ryoji would make himself sick eating ice cream and milk he doesn't know what lactose is. (i made a silly poll about this once and the tags were very entertaining.)

i see minato as transmasc or nonbinary depending on the day (schrodinger's headcanons babey they're simultaneously true and not true at the same time!!). either way he's not cis to me and ryoji is like. His Gender. anyway go read this fic by nail_gun for t4t ryomina :D !

ryomina are WEIRD GUYS TO ME!!! they are so strange and they understand each other better than anyone else because of the circumstances of their relationship!!! if you asked them to do the "i wonder what i taste like" meme i think they'd start biting each other (affectionate) tbh but that's just me.

after ryoji gives minato the music box in 12/31 on reload, minato listens to the music box every night in january. this boy has insomnia and also chronic illness to me (things that housing death does to you). but i think he finds comfort in the melody and memories he made with ryoji.

in general, i think it's fun to imagine minato taking ryoji to places and show him things he's interested in! i feel that ryoji takes a lot of interest in minato's life, this isn't really a hc because in reload, minato DOES give ryoji a tour of the school (11/9) and possibly port island (11/12). but ITS CUTE OK! (tangentially related fanwork: this series of doodles from vinnigami: 1, 2, and 3)

not a hc but minato's kindness is like the backbone of their relationship and i think we would not have the ryomina we know and love today if minato wasn't such a kind soul. oh minato.... we can learn so much from you... like ryoji did!

anyway! that's all the hcs that i could think of, thank you for the ask! i had a lot of fun answering this, these two mean a lot to me 💛💙

i hope you don't mind the links to the fanart and fanfic as well, the fanwork people have made for ryomina have really made an imprint on me! if you want to see more of them, i definitely recommend looking through my tag for them because oh. i got a lot of them reblogged alright 😂 (<- SOOO NORMAL)

[themyscirah]

Reading shit comics kind of sucks but at least I get the satisfaction of proving my own point w this

[deepseawave]

obsessed w the tags on ur last reblog

Omgg, thank you haha, it was a quality post so I just had to appreciate it in full force 😂❤️

Can‘t believe someone would actually enjoy my yapping :,D

[bikananjarrus]

officially outlining what i've been calling the resurrection fic aka the post-rebels s4 sequel fic aka the ghost crew working through all their grief fic etc etc. and oh man. when i get this written.......

[nancyheart11]

As much as I love dad squad stuff, I need to know what "Sky's blue dabudee dabudah" is

>:)

Short answer the next chapter in Blush of Dawn

Long answer

After Twilight got injured by the Shadow, instead of waking up the next morning normally he was awoken by sunlight burning his skin, as during the night he got turned into a Shadow beast.

The obvious thing to do when you wake up as a monster is run way so that the heroes you've been travelling with don't immediately murder you. Unfortunately for Twilight the heroes assume he's been kidnapped and aren't going to be stopped, even with the kidnapper having taken Epona as well.

The heroes travel for a bit following Sky's dowsing for the Ordon shield (why'd the kidnapper take that?) run into some monster's, fight and then Wind gets mckidnapped himself by a black blur. (where did Epona come from???)

Wind wakes up and has possibly the weirdest interaction with a monster ever?? it's weirdly friendly, polite, and is willing to carry him all the way back to the group of stab happy heroes??

Wild figures out that Epona knows where Twilight is and leaves camp in the middle of the night to find out. She brings him to the Shadow beast and Wild only almost stabs him.

When they get back to camp and the confusion gets cleared up the heroes start trying to figure out how to get Twilight back to being Hylian, going through a portal and that where ilthis chapter will start!

Last time we had a Sky POV Sky was dowsing and the heroes were very confident in back and slash the first dark thing we find, so it'll be fun to see what his thoughts on the situation are now :)

[scarlettcryptid]

the comments on my fics are some of the only things holding me together rn

[forcebookish]

accountability post!!!!!!!!!! (in no particular order)

write 300+ words (that's how much i wrote yesterday and it's a much more realistic goal than 500 or 1000 given what i'm working on and i always like a goal where i am more likely to overperform than underperform lol)

edit #18 whumptober gifs (typo) ✅

make arcarm gifs ✅️

make phoomvicha gifs ✅️

make #19 whumptober gifs ✅️

answer asks ✅️

let's goooooooooooo

[plantenjoyer]

I SWEAR I KEEP TRYING TO DO ART BUT THEN SOMETHING GETS IN THE WAY AND THEN I PROCRASTINATE AND THEN SIX MONTHS PASS

[seventh-district]

several days and 15 thousand words later, i am relieved to report that the suffocating urge to Write Something has been sated and no longer has me in a chokehold

[fridayyy-13th]

WIP snippet game

woahhh tysm @ollieofthebeholder for tagging me with the words star, hope, green, watch, and thread!! now to scour my absolutely ridiculous number of TMA WIPs (most of which are really just notes, which narrows it down a little bit) to see what all i've got.

star: ohohoho right off the bat we've got one from my favorite WIP! it's a multichapter fic i've been calling Minutes to Midnight. it's still in its early stages, writing-wise (in actuality this thing has been in my brain for over a year...), but this bit occurs somewhere around the middle of the fic.

Martin glanced at Jon out of the corner of his eye. The other man had his head tipped back and tilted to the side, staring into the foggy night sky. What was he thinking, Martin wondered. Did he think if he stared hard enough he’d be able to see the stars? Jon huffed, and in one swift motion he pulled the ribbon of his mask undone, setting it gently in his lap and looking back up with a frown. “I wish the skies were clearer tonight,” he told Martin, “the view of the night sky from here is…honestly, one of my favorite things in the world.”

hope: this one actually shows up kinda a lot! but i picked an excerpt from a safehouse fic i'm working on, that's got a sequel w/MAG 160 canon divergence (and as a result, a lot of ow). this one, though, is a lot more like the stuff i've already written—that is to say, it's bittersweet. and also currently untitled.

Minutes later, bed passably-made and jackets dropped into a heap on the floor, the two shuffled under the heavy green blanket Jon had found. From there...Jon wasn't really sure what to do. Well, go to sleep, obviously. But before that. Martin lay on his own side of the bed, and Jon lay on theirs, hands inches apart in the space between them. And they wanted to reach out, more than anything, but something gave them pause. Hell, they'd been holding hands near-constantly since leaving the Lonely, but it...it felt more intimate, the thought of taking his hand here. Like if they did, it would be tantamount to telling him I'm hopelessly in love with you. The last thing they wanted was to cross a boundary.

green: ah yes, the WIP where i shamelessly project my aroflux-ness onto jon, lol. it's another safehouse fic!! i call it Friday I'm in Love, bc if there's one thing i hate that i love to do, it's steal song names/lyrics for titles. and also i just really like the song. yes most of the information in italics is cribbed from various wikipedia pages and is probably gonna be narrowed down at least a little bit in the final draft.

“Camellias are probably my favorite, I think,” said Martin. “They look a bit like roses? I don’t know if you know them.” At that moment, a slew of information forced its way into Jon’s mind. Camellia is a genus of flowering plants in the family Theaceae, and it is native to eastern and southern Asia. There are somewhere between 100 and 300 species, with disputes over the exact number, along with around 3,000 hybrids. In floriography, it generally means gratitude and perfection. Red camellias mean unpretending excellence, or “you’re a flame in my heart.” White camellias mean “you’re adorable,” or perfected loveliness. Pink camellias mean “longing for you.” They are evergreen shrubs that grow up to 7.62 meters tall, with simple, serrated, typically glossy leaves. They—Jon shook his head, stopping the flood of information. “Ah, um, I Know them now.” “Oh.” Jon rushed to say, “They’re- they’re nice, it’s just…” “Yeah, I- I know.” “Er, I like…gardenias,” said Jon, rather lamely.

watch: this here is part of a fix-it AU that essentially boils down to "hey. hey what if they were all friends before the Archives transfer. what then." this WIP in particular is specifically qpr!jonsasha, and the groundwork for that.

The next morning, there was a to-go coffee cup on her desk, with some packets of sugar and creamer right beside it. On the side of the cup was a yellow sticky note. Thank you again, for yesterday. Figured I'd pay you back; I hope this is sufficient. —Jon She smiled at him, as he was not-so-subtly glancing at her to watch her reaction. “Thanks, Jon.” He returned to his work with a poorly hidden smile. The sight of it filled her with warmth.

thread: eyyy we've got Spider Trauma™️ (and not-shown-here hurt/comfort). this one's really putting the "rough" in "rough draft" though, i decided to play around a bit with switching character perspectives as well as switching between 3rd- and 2nd-person POVs and verb tenses. but it is a oneshot! so hopefully it'll be done sooner rather than later.

Jon was not doing well, all things considered. He'd shut himself up in his office, once again ardently wishing his door had a lock. Not for the reasons he used to; he'd long since grown past the days of shutting his friends out, figuratively and literally, and now was intensely grateful they'd decided he was worth keeping around despite...everything about how he'd acted when they all first transferred, really. No, right now he wanted privacy because— Old cardboard pages under your hands, sticking to your fingers and not letting you go, gossamer thread leading you closer and closer to the door where a monster awaits its next meal—

tags (no pressure!!): @three-magpies-in-a-trenchcoat @gentlemancrow @radical-dadical-rafael @dramaticdads with the words flower, space, read, blue, and sing!