#My brain is just word salad

[gokustits]

I love that I can make nonsense posts about goku and you guys will basically just nod and agree

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

Were starving for Barnaby x Howdy father...were starving for it/hj

here is some food child.... you're safe now....

[frmtheroombelow]

I was just thinking about just how significant 'this place will become your tomb' is as a statement. Like not even in the context of the album itself and the imagery but in the context of love.

A tomb as a physical place of rest where loved ones come to honour the dead and when those folks are gone too, as a place where they're loved by humanity centuries later because humans are wired so deeply to see and know and care and love.

Does your heart not also become a tomb for a beloved? Wherein you carry the memory and essence of that person? Is not the act of carrying someone into the future who cannot experience that future themselves also an act of love?

[valiantstarlights]

[Personal Trainer!Dream AU] Chapter 2: (Much Ado About) Gym Clothes

Chapter 1: First Meeting

This is still for @sadrumihours , who shared Tom Sturridge's highly educational 😏 training videos (part one & part two), as well as everyone who yelled in the comments and reblog tags. I see you all and I love each and every one of you. 🖤

Disclaimer: These are once again just vibes because I still don't know a single thing about gym stuff. Will someone please tell me what the equipment Tom is using called? Because I'm still calling it stretchy jump rope machine in my head. 😭

CW (and summary): Dream being his usual thirsty-for-Hob self, Hob being insecure about his body, and Johanna trying to be a supportive sister to Hob. (Keyword being: 'trying.') This chapter contains spicy spice! Enjoy? 😏

Mojo Jojo

Jo, what do I wear to the gym???

uh, gym clothes?

(You sent a photo.)

Is this okay??

i guess?

why are you being weird?

you're just going to the gym, not going on a date

WAIT, ARE YOU???

HOBERT

answer me or i'm gonna come over and steal all your teeth

I bought pizza since I know you're coming over from your shoot anyway

fine

you can keep both your secrets and your teeth for one more day

--

"That's it, Professor," Mr. Endless--Dream, says next to his ear, low and inviting. His hands are cool as they caress Hob's overheated and very sensitive inner thighs, and his eyes, so dark and so close to Hob's own, are laser-focused on his panting, straining face. "One more. Just one more for me."

Hob's cheeks are already streaked with tears. How many hours has it been? How much more until they're done? Until he's told that he's been good? "Mr. Endless, please--"

Dream has moved to inspect his position. He adjusts Hob's legs so they spread even wider. The change in angle makes him sob, but Dream shushes him and he leans all the way down to lick at his rim.

Hob wails, body jolting against the restraints. His muscles are already so sore, but he wants to be good.

"You can do it, Professor," Dream says, lightly tapping at his taint to encourage his muscles to clench. "This is the last one."

Hob cries and wiggles, breathes slowly and purposefully like how he has been taught, and forcibly relaxes his muscles one by one, until finally, finally, he manages to push out the last large anal egg from his body with a soft moan.

It plops wetly onto Dream's waiting hand, and the man hums approvingly as Hob's hole gapes for a second before winking closed again.

"Very good," Dream purrs against his rim and dips his tongue into Hob's loosened hole. Hob keens and thrashes against his bonds again. It was so humiliating, but he loves every second of it. He can feel his body slowly becoming stronger, and he owes it all to Dream.

"You see what you can do?" Dream asks, now inserting his long, clever fingers inside him. "What your body can achieve with my guidance?" He moves his fingers in and out slowly, the squelch of the remaining lube loud in the room. "I'm so proud of you, Professor. Only a few sessions in and you're already my beautiful, obedient little slut." He emphasizes his words by drilling his fingers unerringly against Hob's prostate. Hob cries and bucks up, helpless and overwhelmed, unable to do anything else with how good he had been tied up.

"Please, Mr. Endless--"

"Mr. Endless?" Dream repeats. "You have to be specific, Professor Gadling. Are you calling for my brother?"

Hob shakes his head wildly. "No. No, please. I mean you. Just you, sir, no one else. You know that."

Dream rewards him with a soft kiss against the head of his cock. "And what's my name, Professor?" he asks. "What's the name that you'll be screaming in ecstasy for the rest of your life?"

"D-Dream," Hob gasps. "Dream--"

"Good boy," Dream says, and returns to his hole to suck hickeys around the rim. Hob hopes he bruises well. He hopes he'll feel all the love bites Dream gives him every time he sits down. "Shall I give you your reward now?"

Hob remembers last time, when his reward was Dream spanking his hole directly until it was red and puffy, and then fucking him that way, all the while praising him for being so virgin tight.

"Yes, please," Hob says, voice cracking a little. He wants to move. He wants to wrap his arms around Dream and kiss him softly while they fuck. He wants to be called sweet and good and mine.

But in the end, Dream is still his trainer, and he knows Hob's body best. He knows Hob's body better than Hob himself, now. And if he tells Hob he has to wear a vibrating plug while he uses the stationary bike, then he will.

He'll cry and stumble and cum in his underwear countless times, and Dream will coo and kiss his tears away, but he'll do it. Has done it. It had increased his stamina exponentially.

"Very well," Dream says. He leans over Hob so they could share a kiss while he lines his cock up against Hob's waiting hole. "You have been so good for me today, and I think that means you deserve a treat, yes?"

Hob nods, biting his lip at the incredible pressure as the head of Dream's large cock pushes against his rim--

--

Hob's alarm blares at max volume, and he jolts awake, blindly reaching for his phone to turn it off.

It takes him a few seconds, and once that's done, he's awake enough to notice the sticky feeling in his underwear. He moves the covers aside and peeks inside his boxers.

...Great. Not only did he have an incredibly realistic wet dream (ha) starring his personal trainer, but he's also currently sporting a semi.

Thank goodness he set his alarm hours before he has to go to the gym. He still has time to do some...preliminary stretching.

He blushes as he grabs his favorite dildo, which he had placed conveniently beside his pillow last night, as well as the bottle of lube beside it.

He's already ashamed of himself for thinking about Mr. Endless in such a manner, but try as he might, he can't conjure up the image of another person. Not since he met him.

Oh, he tried thinking about previous people he had a crush on, real and fictional, as well as local and international celebrities: actors and idols and athletes--to no avail. They always turn into Dream Endless in the end, looking down at him as they fuck in a variety of positions, usually missionary because Hob is a dumb romantic at heart, his gorgeous blue eyes loving and captivated, his lips forming 'Professor Gadling' or 'Hob' over and over again, his voice soft with awe and reverence.

It never fails to bring Hob to completion faster than he ever had before, when he had yet to be blessed about the knowledge of Dream Endless's existence. It was mortifying. His imagined scenarios always leave him whining and pressing his face against his pillow so he doesn't scream Mr. Endless's name out loud for the entire neighborhood to hear.

He knows it's pathetic, because it's not like Mr. Endless is going to look at him that way in real life. But if he's sad about it, crying a little like a lovesick fool after he cums, then that's his business and no one ever needs to know.

--

Boss Dream's newest trainee walks in the gym dressed in a thick hoodie and joggers, and Matthew starts sweating bullets just by looking at him. Is he going snowboarding with Boss Dream or something?

Nope. None of his business. Better just focus on getting the damn blender working.

--

"Good morning, Mr. Endless!" Professor Gadling says cheerfully as he rounds the corner to where Dream is waiting. "I hope it's alright that I'm a bit early today. I had to make up for last time."

He's an entire 15 minutes early, but Dream won't say no to spending more time with him. He had been reviewing today's agenda, but had turned around as soon as he heard Professor Gadling's voice. And he was just about to greet him back, when his eyes lift from the clipboard he's holding, and the smile falters in his face as he takes in what the man is wearing.

Dream had indicated in his email that they were going to do some mandatory stretches, and after that proceed to doing a full-body pre-test workout that would measure the professor's strength, endurance level, general dexterity, etc. It was important that they do this on the first session so that Dream could come up with a program specifically tailored for him and his end goal.

It was his mistake in assuming that Professor Gadling would do the sensible thing and wear something light. Not winter clothes in the middle of summer.

"Good morning, Professor Gadling," he says, as neutrally as he can manage. "You are dressed quite warmly."

Professor Gadling grimaces. "Oh. Well um, I'm afraid I don't really have gym clothes, and I haven't had the chance to buy some yet since, you know, school. And everything else I own are dress shirts and slacks and lounge wear. But don't worry! I'll go shopping this weekend." He pauses and smiles bashfully. It was just as devastating as Dream remembered. "Sorry. I'm talking too much again."

Meanwhile, Dream's mind had latched on to the words 'lounge wear,' and he imagines Professor Gadling casually walking around his house in nothing but short pajama bottoms.

"I see," he says, glad that he took the time this morning to get himself off so he won't be as tempted to push Professor Gadling against the nearest surface and really give him a full body workout. "Then please, if at any point you wish to take off a layer, feel free to do so."

"Oh, no," Professor Gadling says, still cheerfully. "I'm fine like this. Shall we begin?"

There's still a few minutes before they officially have to start, but Professor Gadling seems to want to begin immediately, so Dream nods and instructs him to stand with his feet shoulder width apart, and gets him to start stretching his upper body.

Professor Gadling obeys, following Dream's example as he demonstrates the set, counting to eight, then back to one again under his breath, before doing the next set without complaint.

Dream watches him closely, because he has to. It's why he notices that the professor's thick hoodie barely shifts, even as the man raises his hands upwards towards the ceiling and counts to 16.

A dark thought crosses Dream's mind then, that perhaps the reason Professor Gadling is wearing clothes that cover his entire body is because he's currently covered in love bites.

Dream clenches his teeth but breathes through it. He knows he's being possessive when he has no right to be, and that Professor Gadling has every right to sleep with whoever he wants.

But knowing these facts and acknowledging them to be logical and true does not stop Dream from hating whoever it was that is currently enjoying Professor Gadling's gorgeous body in bed, perhaps repeatedly throughout the night.

He wants to be that person. He will be that person. He is already fated to be that person.

If his brother Destiny is right about one thing, Dream fucking hopes that it's the power of manifestation, because he doesn't think he would just allow Professor Gadling to end up with someone else without challenging that person to a fight.

--

Mr. Endless is wearing a tight, sleeveless black shirt and slightly baggy joggers, and Hob is losing his mind. Has lost his mind as soon as he spotted the man a couple of minutes ago, standing by the large glass windows and reading something on his clipboard.

The sight of his toned arms are bad for Hob's concentration. And it's even worse when he circles Hob like a very observant vulture to check his position (just like in his dream) and bids him to raise his arms higher, or at one point, bend a little more to the right.

Hob can't bend as much as he used to in his twenties, but he is very determined to be super flexible at the end of this.

For health reasons, of course.

Mr. Endless demonstrates another pose to stretch the arm muscles, and in doing so calls Hob's attention to how his muscles bunch and flex. Hob is sure that they're far stronger than they look, and he has no doubt that Mr. Endless can carry heavy grocery bags without breaking a sweat.

Hob gets so far as picturing Mr. Endless's hands squeezing his thighs before he immediately shuts the thought down.

No. Absolutely not. And his previous thought about being flexible, too. Mr. Endless would be horrified, if not outright disgusted if he finds out that Hob is thinking about him in that manner.

--

Professor Gadling continues to obediently follow his orders, getting on the treadmill, walking, jogging, then running, complying as soon as Dream warns him about changing the treadmill's speed, and he does so without a single word of complaint.

Dream could not help but compare him to his past trainees, all of whom had complained on their first session about wanting to go straight to the workouts that would help them achieve their ideal body shape. But not Professor Gadling. He would listen and watch Dream's demonstration well, then immediately obey his orders or mimick his movements. Dream has to bite his tongue multiple times so he wouldn't slip up and say, 'good boy.'

Or worse, 'my good boy.'

Death is going to have Destruction break his spine if, out of all siblings, a sexual harassment complaint would be filed against him and not, say, Desire, who regularly flirts with their own trainees.

Cardio pre-test finished, Dream leads Professor Gadling to the weightlifting area, and once there, bids him to take 2 dumbbells that weighs 1 kilogram each, and do 16 squats while holding the weights.

While Professor Gadling gets the appropriate equipment from the rack, Dream lets his mind wander. Would Professor Gadling be obedient in bed, too? Or would he be a brat? Will Dream have to tame him, or is he already sweet and docile?

Dream imagines that the latter to be more likely, though he wouldn't mind if his lovely professor turns out to be an incorrigible brat in bed. He'll just have to spank him until he's pliant and good enough to deserve his treats.

Fuck. He's teaching. He should be more professional than this.

"Like this, Mr. Endless?"

Dream snaps from his ill-timed daydreams to scrutinize Professor Gadling's form, only to then hold back a lustful groan.

The man is squatting alright, but he's doing so improperly. His heels should be flat against the floor, but instead his thighs and calves are touching, and he's so low that he's almost kneeling on the floor.

Dream has an errant thought that Professor Gadling is being seductive on purpose, except one look at his genuinely unsure expression proves Dream wrong.

Definitely sweet and docile in bed.

Dream wants to eat him alive.

Were this a porno, Dream would tell him that he's doing a terrific job, and if he could please thrust his chest out more so Dream could admire them better. But since he's an actual trainer with the thinnest veneer of professionalism left, he bids Professor Gadling to stand up and instructs him on how to squat properly.

Except, of course, his improved and now very proper form isn't making Dream feel any better, as Professor Gadling now had his ass thrust out instead of his chest, and has to repeat the motion 15 more times.

Dream gets his bottle of vitamin water and drinks deeply, hoping to cool himself down enough to banish his lecherous thoughts.

It doesn't work.

--

Hob sees from the corner of his eye Mr. Endless drink from his water bottle and immediately looks away. He's glad he's already red from exercising.

When Mr. Endless corrected his squat earlier, he did so by placing a hand gently against Hob's lower back to guide him, and Hob barely bit back a moan from how good a simple, innocent touch from him felt, even through his thick hoodie.

He feels like such a shameless pervert.

--

Once the assessment is (finally) over, Dream praises Professor Gadling for a job well done, valiantly ignores the shy, pleased look on the man's face, and instead goes on to tell him that he's doing okay overall, but needs more work in certain areas.

Dream does not specify which ones, telling him that he still needs to study the data and compile them together before emailing the whole thing to him.

In truth, Dream does not trust himself to look straight into Professor Gadling's lovely dark brown eyes and say words like 'stamina' and 'flexibility' without exposing the level of hunger he's currently feeling for him.

So yes. Dream will email him his pre-test results later, but he does not tell him that he will only do so after a good long wank.

Professor Gadling, totally unaware of his inner turmoil, only nods understandably, and agrees to read Dream's email as soon as his schedule allows him to. He must be sweating like crazy underneath his get-up, but his choice of clothes show no evidence of it.

Dream worries, and his mouth opens before he can stop it. "Professor Gadling," he says, just as the man had turned away to go to the nearby drinking fountains.

"Yes, Mr. Endless?"

Dream doesn't want to keep him any longer from the fountains than he has to. But next time, he's going to make sure to bring an extra bottle of vitamin water for him, so he could take a sip anytime without going all the way across the room and falling in line.

Dream is also going to be mature about not staring at his throat while he drinks. "When you go shopping for gym clothes, you may want to consider buying lighter fabrics."

"Oh, no, I'm absolutely fine with these," Professor Gadling says, and sounds sincere about it that Dream drops the subject.

"Very well," he says. He will not force him. Professor Gadling's comfort is paramount. If that means that Dream would have to adjust their lesson plans to include more water breaks, then that's what he'll do. "I shall see you next session."

He turns away before he could be tempted to watch Professor Gadling go. He does not think about the possibility that the hoodie might actually belong to Professor Gadling's boyfriend, who is probably waiting for him to get back home, and very eager to get him back in bed.

He has no right to be jealous.

--

Hob opens his gym bag and starts to take out his clean change of clothes when the texture of the shirt made him pause.

That's not the shirt he folded last night.

He takes the folded black shirt out, wonders at its suddenly lighter weight, then shakes it open to see if he had mistakenly folded another shirt.

As soon as the garment is revealed, however, he shoves it back in his bag, then shakes the accompanying bottom garment open. When that was revealed, he also shoves it back in the bag.

Then, slowly and mindfully, he breathes for a solid minute before he takes out his phone and texts his sister.

--

Mojo Jojo

Jo what the hell

what

(You sent a photo.)

Why are your gym clothes in my bag???

they're not mine stupid

i had ric buy them yesterday specifically for you

?????

for your ~mysterious~ gym crush to notice you (u///u)❤️

anyway don't worry and just wear them

they'll fit you

That's not the point!

A crop top and booty shorts???

you're right. the booty shorts are fine, but the crop top is too plain.

i should have told ric to pick the other one that says 'daddy's little fuck toy' 😂

JOHANNA CONSTANTINE-GADLING

pfft coward

i'm gonna tell ric to go back to the store and buy the fuck toy crop top

oops the director is shouting at me to get in place bye gtg

--

Hob is typing another scathing reply in all caps when he hears footsteps stop a short distance from him.

"Professor Gadling?"

Great. The last person in the world he wanted to see right at this very moment.

Hob smiles awkwardly and stows his phone back in his bag. "Mr. Endless."

"Is everything alright?"

Right. Shit. He hasn't even showered yet. He's probably stinking up the place and being a nuisance near the lockers.

"Everything's fine," Hob says, waving the man's concern away. "Just. Sisters being sisters. With their weird and very inappropriate sense of humor."

Someday, he'll learn how to shut his big mouth and stop at 'everything's fine.'

"I'm sure all sisters suffer from having a weird sense of humor," Mr. Endless says politely. "May I ask what your sister has done?"

Hob sighs deeply and zips his bag closed. It's fine. He'll just go shower at home. And anyway, it's not like he has to take the Tube and subject everyone to his sweaty self after a workout. Thank god he drove here. "Better not. If even I, as her brother, didn't find it funny, I very much doubt that you will."

"And yet you remain troubled," Mr. Endless says, and now his brows are furrowed in concern. "Please. I know this is not any of my business, but I would like to help you, if I can."

The fact that Mr. Endless looks very sincere makes Hob want to cry.

And he knows he shouldn't show him. He knows that Mr. Endless should be the last person in the world Hob should show these to. But he figures, what the hell. He could just quit via email as soon as he gets home and never have cause to see Mr. Endless or be seen in the vicinity of Endless Gym ever again.

Maybe it would even be for the best if he did that. Then he would stop having all these unsavory thoughts about him while the man is only trying to do his job.

He sighs and opens his bag once more, tilting it a little so Mr. Endless could see its contents. "My sister swapped my clean change of clothes for these."

Mr. Endless looks inside, and Hob can just see in his mind's eye what the other man saw: an extremely short, short-sleeved, solid black crop top with a deep V-neck that would barely cover Hob's chest area, and slutty black booty shorts with the phrase, 'SQUEEZE ME' printed on the butt area, complete with a cute yellow lemon emoji.

Although to be fair, 'crop top' is a generous term to use for the upper garment in the bag. It's too small and resembles a short-sleeved bra more than a crop top. From a single glance, Hob knows that even if it did fit him, it would be so tight that it would force his pecs to form a cleavage and leave his underboobs exposed.

He cringed internally at the image that would make, and could only imagine the utter revulsion Mr. Endless is feeling right now.

--

Dream had leaned over to inspect the contents of Professor Gadling's bag, expecting everything from a shark onesie to a clown suit.

Instead he sees further fuel for his already full folder of Professor Gadling-centric fantasies.

He could just imagine the crop top and the booty shorts on the man, and how he'd look like exercising while wearing them.

He had half a mind to ask for his sister's number so he could personally extend his gratitude to her, but doesn't dare to, in case Professor Gadling gets the wrong idea.

He inhales slowly and leans away, placing his hands neatly behind his back so Professor Gadling would not be in danger of being pushed against the lockers and fucked within an inch of his life. Dream did not fail to notice the distinct lack of underwear among the clean change of clothes, and now his mind is working overtime imagining himself standing behind Professor Gadling as he runs on the treadmill, the tiny shorts and the lack of proper underwear leaving nothing to the imagination. Imagines pressing himself against the professor's sweaty back after, the man still panting and out of breath, and pulling down his cute little shorts to jerk him off as a reward for a job well done.

"I see your dilemma," Dream says calmly, like this is an incident that happens every so often and not a cause for alarm or humiliation. "Fortunately, we have a stock of clean clothes in the staff locker room, in case staff members need to change for some reason or another. If you could please stay here for a while, I'm going to get you a clean change of clothes with more coverage."

Yes. It is imperative that he provides Professor Gadling with more conservative clothing than the ones currently in his bag. Otherwise, other people would see and covet what Dream has already envisioned as his. And that will definitely not do.

"Oh," Professor Gadling says, looking incredibly moved by his words. He's probably thinking how kind Dream is, while Dream is still thinking about how easy it would be to fuck his thighs after jerking him off, using the man's own cum as lube. How he would then make an even bigger mess of him and not clean him up after. That way, everyone would know that Professor Gadling is Dream's and Dream's only. "Are you sure? I don't want to trouble you unnecessarily."

"It's no problem at all," Dream says. In his mind, he imagines the man's thighs covered in both their cum, and Professor Gadling scooping some of it up and sucking on his fingers, curious as to what their mixed spend would taste like. "I have also been at the receiving end of a couple of my siblings' pranks, and would not wish another to suffer similarly." When Professor Gadling opened his mouth, possibly to protest, Dream holds up a hand and adds, "Please. I insist."

"Oh. Well then...thank you, Mr. Endless," Professor Gadling says, his dark brown eyes sparkling like precious gems in his gratefulness. Dream wants to kiss him all over. "You're a lifesaver."

--

Dream speedwalks to the staff locker room, checks to see if the coast is clear, immediately locks himself in a stall, drops his joggers and underwear, and starts jerking himself off furiously.

He barely even had to spit on his palm for lubrication, and he knows it wouldn't take long. He's already so aroused.

He has to do this.

If he doesn't, then Professor Gadling would be in an even greater danger when Dream hands him his clean (and much more conservative) change of clothes, and gets to be on the receiving end of his shy gratitude.

He imagines Professor Gadling, usually so buttoned up, only wearing that infernal crop top and booty shorts in Dream's favorite color, with those taunting fucking words--

"There's a good boy," his imagined self says to a kneeling Professor Gadling, who is pressing his tits closer together to create a valley where Dream could rut his cock against.

"I could...squeeze them even tighter, if you want?" his imagined Professor Gadling says, maintaining his naive, unsure aura about him even as his lips are slick and red from sucking on Dream's cock. "I want you to feel good, Mr. Endless."

Dream cums at the thought of marking Professor Gadling's face and hairy tits with his seed, and him shyly licking his lips for a taste of Dream's cum, moaning in delight when he finds Dream's spend to be thick and delicious. Dream is going to eat more pineapples, just for him. He's going to make Professor Gadling addicted to the taste of his cum that no other cum would do.

"Thank you for lending me your clothes, Mr. Endless," he would say, because he's polite like that. He would lean forward to milk Dream's cock more, making sure to get every last drop, before making a show of swallowing everything down, save for the cum marking him as Dream's. "And for the really tasty post-workout treat."

--

Mr. Endless looks a little flushed when he returns. However, judging by how far the staff locker room is from the gym goer's lockers that was out in the open (possibly to prevent theft and sexual harassment), as well as any additional effort he may have made in finding clean clothes that are in Hob's size, Hob thinks he got back pretty quickly.

The sight of him slightly flushed makes Hob think naughty thoughts though, which he quickly dispels from his mind. He doesn't have the right to think about Mr. Endless like that, especially after the man went through all this trouble just so Hob would feel comfortable going home.

Still. He wonders what would have happened if he had both the courage and the confidence to wear the clothes Jo bought for him.

Would Mr. Endless...

He viciously cuts the thought off before it could fully form. No. Absolutely not.

Mr. Endless would have felt nauseous at seeing his rolls and body hair and just...general unattractiveness. Hob wouldn't need to email him about quitting because the man himself would drop him as soon as he could, like a hot (temperature-wise) and very unappealing potato.

--

"Here," Dream says as he hands Professor Gadling a set of clean clothes. In the bundle is a black shirt, a black letterman jacket with the number 03 on it, and black joggers. All of them belong to Dream, and everyone, especially his siblings and the rest of the staff, is going to know that these are his clothes as soon as they see the number 03. "You will have to go commando, but it's definitely preferable to what your sister intended for you to wear."

Professor Gadling looks so grateful and Dream wants to mark him up, this time with his own teeth. Let everyone see Professor Gadling wearing his clothes and his teeth marks, even his boyfriend who lent him this hoodie, whoever he is. "Thank you so much," he says. "And yes. Lord knows I shouldn't subject anyone to the sight of me in that. I'll drive all the gym goers away and then Endless Gym would have to close."

Dream really, absolutely hates how Professor Gadling thinks of himself as unattractive. Is it because his boyfriend tells him that? Is that why Professor Gadling signed up for training in the first place?

Well, whoever he is, he better be prepared because Dream is ready and raring to beat him into a pulp the moment Professor Gadling even implies that his lack of self-esteem is caused by his boyfriend spouting lies about his beautiful body.

Were Dream allowed to freely speak his mind, he would say that if Professor Gadling did don the clothes his sister intended for him to wear, he would no doubt cause multiple accidents due to gym goers losing their concentration: dropping weights on their feet and tripping on the treadmills, not to mention the injuries he would cause in the future, when Dream would casually arrange little minor accidents to those he caught drooling at his lovely future boyfriend.

But because he is still Professor Gadling's trainer and therefore need to have some semblance of control and professionalism, what he says instead is, "I don't think such a thing will happen. And please, feel free to keep those clothes if you wish."

"Oh!" Professor Gadling exclaims. "I absolutely shouldn't. I'll wash them after and return them to you on our next session."

Dream smiles. He's very stubborn, too. "If you do that, I will simply put them in your locker so you will have an extra set of clothes if your sister decides to swap your clean set again."

--

Hob blushes as soon as Mr. Endless hands him the bundle of clothing, and feels even more flustered when, after showering, he holds them in his arms and smells a hint of Mr. Endless's own scent on them.

He really is so kind and generous and considerate and Hob is so very quickly falling in love with him.

--

Hob is walking past the gym's cafe after getting dressed when he sees Mr. Endless ordering what looks like a pineapple smoothie. He walks over and nods politely to both the staff member behind the counter and Mr. Endless when both men turn to look at him.

The male staff member quickly walks towards the blender to fulfill Mr. Endless's order, however, and so the two of them are left alone to converse freely.

"Thank you for lending me your clothes, Mr. Endless," Hob tells him, all-smiles. The clothes fit him perfectly, and the fabric feels good on his skin.

There is an undecipherable look in Mr. Endless's eyes. Hob hopes he's not mad. He looks really intense. "I see they fit you well."

Hob laughs. "I was surprised, too! Thank you very much for finding ones that are in my size. This jacket is especially lovely." He rubs his hand over the fabric of the jacket's sleeve, which really does have a nice texture to it.

"I'm glad you like it," Mr. Endless says. "And I hope that this means you are considering keeping it?"

Hob ducks his head to hide his embarrassing lovesick smile. He'd love to, actually. He'll take it off as soon as he gets home and press his face against it, hoping to smell what little remains of Mr. Endless's scent, and how their scents mix together. "Maybe."

"Then it is yours," Mr. Endless says. It might be Hob's delusional imagination, but Mr. Endless looks fond as he looks at him. His heart is beating so fast. If he doesn't leave soon, he may just do the unthinkable and kiss Mr. Endless in front of the poor staff member behind the bar, as well as a couple of random gym goers peacefully eating their salads in the background.

--

"Oh," Professor Gadling says softly. "Really? You mean that?"

Dream wasn't wrong in his assumption. The man does look good wearing his clothes. And for him to go out of his way just to show Dream how well they fit before he leaves...

Dream wants to tear his own clothes off him and just give him another set after.

"I do, Professor Gadling," he says. "I only say what I mean, and I would love for you to keep them. At home or in your locker, as long as your sister doesn't hide them from you and replace your clean change of clothes again."

"I will care for them well," Professor Gadling vows sincerely. Dream has no doubt that he will. But this is only the first of many clothes that Dream is planning on giving him. In fact, Dream could already envision his own closet at home, interspersed with Professor Gadling's clothes, and the man himself wearing Dream's clothes to bed. Dream is going to let him steal all his hoodies after they burn his ex's hoodies. He's going to spoil him rotten with pretty lingerie so he'll never have to go commando ever again. "Shall I see you in a couple of days for our next session?"

Dream could think of no one else belonging in his life as a romantic partner other than Professor Gadling. He smiles and barely prevents himself from leaning forward and giving the man's delicious-looking lips a chaste peck before he has to leave. "I wouldn't miss it for the world."

[muttsupreme]

Roman Roy + fruit feeding

i woke up thinking about feeding roman; not in some “feederism fetish” way (as he would suggest), but in the “i peeled an orange for you. take it. eat it slowly. if you like, i can peel another one?” way.

and just how easy it would be to let him make you feel bad about overfeeding him, if you didn’t see him opening his mouth for more. it would be so simple if he would just stay like that: eyes focused on your hands and his mouth open for you to give him treats. you feed him peaches, you like hearing him try to suck the dripping juice up before it falls onto your sweater. he’s not as careful when he rubs his sticky peach juice face in the fabric afterwards.

next could be apples? he hears, maybe, that it’s the fruit of new york. he thinks that makes him a connoisseur - he jokingly dubs you a ‘granny smith’, or a ‘red delicious’, maybe a ‘pink lady’? the jokes stop once your fingers push an apple slice to his lips.

then you’re buying cherries and he’s trying (failing) to tie a knot in the stem. he almost chokes. you stop buying cherries for a week and he’s already whining about you being too mother-hen.

of course he’d joke about you peeling grapes and treating him like the upper east side prince he is. but he still prefers peaches. he prefers a fruit that gives him an excuse to ‘accidentally’ swipe his tongue over your fingers and the side of your hand, or the palm, or your wrist if it drips that far down. a fruit that stains you both with stickiness, and one where you can take a bite out of the other side, and he can gnaw down to the core to reach where you’re taking bites.

you never let fruit rot in that penthouse.

[red-moon-at-night]

Not me getting all sad and sappy last night about Paris' life as a shepherd, as a slave, pre-discovery of his royal family and him being a prince of Troy, pre-judgement, et cetera et cetera. Especially how much more meaningful it is that Paris plays the lyre, owns a lyre, prior to all of these events.

I have done a little cursory research trying to find out more about the likelihood of slaves in ancient greece having any musical education, and apart from the girls who would play the aulos at symposia, I really haven't found much at all. So I'm going to make an educated guess and assume that someone in Paris' position as a shepherd/cattle herder isn't going to be formally educated nor given the resources to learn an instrument. Therefore him owning a lyre has to come out of his own volition, his own desire for music.

There's something to be said about Paris as a pleasure-seeking character, in contrast to the numerous extracts of Plato or Aristotle discussing the dangers of music being driven by pleasure and pleasure only.

"But later, an unmusical anarchy was led by poets who had natural talent, but were ignorant of the laws of music ... Through foolishness they deceived themselves into thinking that there was no right or wrong way in music, that it was to be judged good or bad by the pleasure it gave. By their works and their theories they infected the masses with the presumption to think themselves adequate judges." — Plato, Laws 700-701a. cited in Wellesz, p. 395.

This passage is talking specifically about the issue of 'new music' during Plato's time, but this sentiment of 'incorrect' forms of music certainly feels relevant to the matter of a slave informally playing an instrument for their own enjoyment.

So much of Paris' character comes back to this idea of his authenticity to himself in the face of societal expectations. His lack of masculinity, breaking xenia, and now doing activities that a slave really ought not to do.

And yet he plays his lyre anyway. For himself, for his own pleasure. At this point in his life, with no knowledge that his world will be turned on his head, that the rest of his life won't be working on agricultural land as a slave — he has his lyre, and that will be enough.

I don't know, the whole thing makes me feel a little emotional.

[mortiflyer]

sinner-medvedev doubles next

[oetscop]

i am so fascinated by cases where ppl like. either post the same thing over and over again or ask the same slightly reworded question a bunch. idk what it is. think like. captain kutchies key lime pies, steamworks goes bye bye always on drm, that guy posting for literal years about hyper-specific scenes from a potential lost show or movie (msiss006 i think)

IDK. IT CAPTIVATES ME. smth abt it

[euclydya]

like ok i thiinki i can words this decently but it's like. being a fictive of a Younger Version Of Yourself is weird. Like. the people i knew baxk then are now like 20-30 years older than me. My boyfriend is now 30 years my senior despite us supposed to be the same age. I'm a snapshot of a man on the precipice of losing his mind and I cannot outgrow that. It's like being stuck in a timeloop. hey y'know that scene from str.anger th.ings with El's mom and howthe audience finally saw into her mind and it was just like 4-5 scenes rapidly repeating on loop for all eternity. like she was just Stuck There Repeating the worst final moments of clarity she had before The Horrors happened to her. Yeah this feels like that in a way. I cannot word it (thought disorder. brain hell.) but it feels similar.

[philosophiums]

if anyone would like to humor me with some lmhs motivation while i write..... external validation is so helpfullllll

[i-can-even-burn-salad]

Find the Word Tag

I was tagged by @sam-glade to find steel, ember, wind, sun.

Steel

He wrapped the blanket around himself. Like a fool, he had let the fire go out, and he couldn’t hold flint and steel in a tight enough grip to rekindle it. Which also meant that he couldn’t ignite the oil lamp Eilis always left burning through the night. As the last of the day’s light faded quickly, the cold crept into the hut, making him shiver.

Ember

When it was dark, she went back inside, igniting an oil lamp on the embers in the hearth before walking over to her bed. She had cleaned the stretcher as much as possible before propping it up on a few wooden logs and putting down a makeshift mattress filled with straw. The result was too narrow to be truly comfortable, but she wasn’t very good at sleeping anyway.

Wind

Finnian tried to prepare himself, looking at the clearing, where wind and rain had drowned out all the color. A sad view for a sad end of a sad life. He held his breath and turned his face towards the sky. 

Sun

Eilis didn’t move from her spot at the foot of the bed until the sun started to sink below the horizon. Watching the shadows grow deeper by the minute, she finally forced her limbs to uncurl. She bent her fingers, feeling like they didn’t belong to her. Feeling like no part of her body belonged to her. She was merely a guest in it, barely able to nudge it towards the hearth where the fire had gone out hours ago.

And I am gonna tag @starlit-hopes-and-dreams @little-peril-stories @befuddled-calico-whump if you want to! As always, doesn't have to be a wip, can be posted as well, as our corner puts their wips out there.

If you wanna do it, your words are: cruel, chain, cloth and color.

[eddieydewr]

Once the online activism devolves into whataboutism over literal terrorist acts or downright blatant antisemitism, I get pissed off. I am seeing this from a lot of the younger generation and also feel like many of them are sort of transferring a lot of the very US/western based sociopolitical problems onto this conflict, specifically calling the people of Israel “colonizers” as if the Jews haven’t been native to that land since biblical times and have just as much, if not more, right to be there than anyone, acting as if they are just western “bad whites” (ignoring that in the US especially, the concept of “white” is very very different then how it is seen in other parts of the world) coming in to oppress. They are boiling down a decades long COMPLEX situation where there currently are NO winners and both sides have done lots of wrong, into a lot of buzzwords and performative activism and very black and white thinking and seeing it fall more and more into overt antisemitism is scary. I wish at the very least, no matter what side you fall on politically, that everyone could have come together to denounce wholly that terrorist like tactics that we’ve seen are an affront to humankind and won’t be supported and it’s ok, and necessary, to denounce them. But the fact most of the people yelling the loudest won’t even do that? And actively get mad at those who do? Yea my faith in humanity is almost gone. I’m glad Noah spoke up. He’s still very young, and so he’s not going to say everything perfectly, but he also has deep ties to the land, friends and maybe even family there he’s worried about, and he literally just came back from there so I am sure part of him is shook up from the idea that he missed possibly being a part of this and dying by a few weeks! And then to see the comments on his posts that triggered him to speak up? Yeah let Noah speak because there was nothing wrong with what he said and the ones who think there is have something wrong with them. it’s ming boggling to me rn that most of the support for Jewish individuals who are upset rn is from the American political right, the kinda people with flags in their twitter bios. What an upside down world we are in rn

perfectly said. i don’t like war and i think civilians should be left out if it if countries/states are unable to resolve conflicts diplomatically. maybe that’s incredibly naive of me; i’m aware i have a westernised perspective but i also try to look at things with nuance, and i understand that the I/P conflict is decades long and incredibly complex while also acknowledging that jewish people have been oppressed and persecuted for over 3000 years.

i’m on the left and no one seems to care that the missing posters of israeli babies are being ripped down in london, or protesters chanting “gas the j*ws”. people on twitter will just say i’m not really left wing or i’m falling for israeli propaganda. 🫠

the backlash against noah is nonsensical; online activists are jumping the gun and twisting noah’s words at best, or conflating palestinans with hamas at worst. whoever wrote the post said “we” (via their insta stories) so it sounds like a group of jewish students, including noah, came together to write the post after seeing the antisemitism and the comments about the deceased young woman. noah is the one with clout, so to speak, so he’s obviously the one to post it and get the word out there. they are young students, they’re not geopolitical analysts, and they’re surely upset and shaken; so yes, the post isn’t perfect but it wasn’t wrong. hamas should be condemned, even if people think it’s what israel deserved.

sorry, i’m basically echoing your sentiments so i’ll stop here now. 🙈 thank you for the message, very much appreciated. tumblr is a hellsite but at least we’re able to discuss things without worrying about character limits or getting enough engagement.

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

Sunny my life my love my deranged little puppet from my brain

[gophergal]

What do you think about the lack of importance Edenia have in the last (and probably in the upcoming too) games?

Seriously, it makes me really Sad. Edenia was so important in the first timeline. What the hell happened? Only a few characteres mention this realm in MKX

It sucks. Big time

If you'll note, basically none of the realms matter anymore, aside from Earthrealm and Outworld.

Sure, the Netherrealm exists, but that's pretty much it. Dreamrealm is of dubious canonicity (introduced to explain Freddy Krueger as a guest fighter, then used to explain Tremor's glow up. Given he isn't shown in the storyline and arcade endings aren't canon in that game, I don't feel comfortable saying "yeah. That's important to the story"), and means nothing to the plot.

Chaosrealm and Orderrealm also don't show up despite being neat concepts.

What I'm getting at is that it makes the MK universe feel small. Edenia is only part of the problem, but I think it's a good example. Mortal Kombat feels more focused on nostalgia bait, Realistic Graphics, and more grisly Kombat than being, y'know, Mortal Kombat. None of that is necessarily Bad, but it's making it feel a little generic to me.

Maybe it's my bias and nostalgia, but that's just wrong. I'm not saying they need to bloat the worldbuilding, that would suck too. I'm just saying that they have these fun concepts, could they PLEASE do something with them???

Not to be the "they changed it, and now it sucks" guy, but I really love the original timeline's absurd worldbuilding. That's a major draw for me. Not only is it absurd, but it was constantly rolling and acquiring new and interesting bullshit. To me, that gave it a personality.

The original timeline feels like you took Enter the Dragon, the Matrix, Magic the Gathering, and classic slasher films, mixed it all up, then used it to bread and batter the gameplay. Deepfry that sonuvabitch until golden brown and serve it hot. Its the fried fish and hush puppies of gaming. I wouldn't say that it's Good For Me, but it's fucking delicious.

Its also not widely palatable and, just as Long John Silver's isn't exactly a big name restaurant, MK was kinda in a slump for a while, profit wise.

I think what happened is they cut back the weirder shit in order to make the games more popular. Its a chicken tender now. Not bad, but it's more of a "I'll take it if there's nothing better/nothing else I feel comfy eating" dish. Still not Good For Me, but often dressed up to seem healthier. By which I mean "able to be taken seriously by more people." The worldbuilding is more Serious ™️, so is the Gameplay. Don't get me started on the State Of The art Graphics.

Its all done this way for profit reasons. I don't doubt that folks on the team are still passionate about the games, but you can't forget that NRS is owned by a bigger company than Midway was. There's more executive meddling, so we see less of the more niche worldbuilding elements like Edenia

[twcheaded-a]

I tried to write tonight. I did.

[a-walking-fandom-reference]

first day with my adhd meds back and yikes it’s a hyperverbal day i cant stop talking