#and merv is just there as always

[yesyourstalker]

I don't know what part this is. I wrote this at 6 am

Slight NSFW mostly implied

_______________________________________________

Ikkan: Neta... Hey you ok?

Neta: yeah.... .. I'm fine I'm just waiting for him to leave completely..... He's such an asshole!!

Ikkan: hey come here.... Don't let him get to you okay? He doesn't know anything about you, your life and you never tried...

Neta: yeah.......he never got to see how amazing I am

Ikkan:oh you're so humble.... He doesn't know what he's missing come here [kiss] also you look good baby.... Look a lot happier... [Kiss]...Hehe...more relaxed...[kiss]

Neta: hehehe.....[kiss]

Ikkan: softer.......and warmer............

Neta:.......[smiles].....

Ikkan:........*sigh*.....[kissing]

Neta: We're alone

Ikkan: yeah we are...heheheh

Neta: no cameras

Ikkan:....... .... You want to slow dance like we used to. Remember during our first date?

Neta: oh........ Ok

Ikkan: what what did you think I was implying?

Neta: nothing nothing it's stupid come here. Let's dance just the two of us away from the commotion.

_______________________________________________

Koi: so you must be my granddaughter... I've heard so much about you. You have straight A's, your captain on your turf war team, you play second chair

Cirrina: actually I play first chair now

Koi: wonderful!... Look at all that confidence and pride amazing... Oh look at me being so rude. Hi my name is koi koi you can call me Grandma Koi, grandma, admiral koi is also an option. I'm a former CEO now head of the advertisement for tech company venton industries.

Cirrina: weren't you the company that started out with game cards and now he's home consoles and arcades? You guys made jump squid right?

Koi: That's the one. I also dipped my foot in farm life raising krill herding sea cows some experience in going produce

Cirrina: I have a houseplant that I bought from the grocery store. I had to change its pot twice and it's taller than me now...oh I'm also skipping the grade and heading straight to high school next year.. My guidance counselor says if I'm good I can maybe even start college classes early. I'll get ahead of everyone else.

Koi: ohhh impressive... So proud to have you as a granddaughter. I see so much of myself in you. I can just tell you're going to be as powerful and successful as me.

Cirrina: I hope I do.......Grandma admiral koi.

Merv: they ran out of wine but I did snatch up the shrimp puffs They're not that bad..... Hello, who's this?

Koi: *ugh* ..... Hone... this is our granddaughter... Remember Neta told us about

Merv: ohhhhhhh nice to meet you.. you must be cirrina.... You're just as pretty as the picture he gave us. Nice to meet you sweetheart.

Cirrina: awww thank you........ Ikkan told me about you. He used to be a farmer. He told me you had acres of strawberries and would first place for best decal 3 years in a row. That's very impressive. You must know a lot about agriculture

Merv: that's correct! Wow you're really something!

Koi: I know! Ah! I just want to pick her in a bag and take her back to haddaido!

Cirrina:hehehe You're too kind..

Koi: well we have to go We're trying to find our kids. I know your uncle is somewhere.. do expect some presents to be in the mail for you sweetie. You just stole our little hearts.

Cirrina: ok bye....hehee

Mizole: You're a snake. You know that?

Cirrina: You've had spinach between your teeth the last 2 hour shut up.

_______________________________________________

Mahi: you think that is going to be mad when we bring this?

Warabi: what's so bad about it? It's just wine?

Mahi: when he expected us to bring drinks He expected it to be in bottles Something you just place on the table make it look nice

Warabi: Oh come on the parties like going to be over in like 4 more hours. We need something like this, that's why I bought five.....for the party

Mahi: We're definitely not going to use all of this. He just wanted one in the apartment

Candi: If he says anything I'm not involved.

Mahi: Baja! Help us bring this in

Baja: ok uhhh what is this exactly

Warabi: its for the party trust me

Baja: ok....

_______________________________________________

Neta: so yeah apparently I've been a captain for the military for 7 years and they didn't tell me- what the hell is this? what happened to the bottles of wine you were supposed to get??

Warabi: didn't have any I just so we just bought the barrel of wine. Five of them. I feel like that's enough right?

Neta: get a little too much where we even going to put this

Mahi: we can just put in the back and have waiters fill up cups

Candi: or you can just have all the guests fill up their own cups

Ikkan: That's not a bad idea...

Neta:....*sigh* ....... Yeah okay that's fine..... I'm gone for 2 minutes and y'all turn this into a keg party

Baja: You've actually gone for 45 minutes

Neta: ............ Just set up the barrels....

Ikkan: hehehehe...... Tonight is still early. Come on, let the guests have a little fun.. it'll be funny seeing some of these producers get drunk off their ass.

Koi: I hope one of them isn't you honey

Ikkan: mom! Uh hah.....wooow so good to see you!...... Neta didn't tell me.... He was inviting my parents. Mmmmm

Koi: well I think it would be nice to spend the holidays with my two boys this year...... I actually came here to see my granddaughter and also talk to my son-in-law. We had a conversation about installing a small arcade original in his original store to keep the traction going once his other store opens.

Neta: Yes we do need to talk more about that I also wanted to talk to Noji about buying vending machines as well, let's walk and talk. You look beautiful by the way Koi. Merv is a lucky man

Koi: you damn right it is... You know how long it took me to convince him to come here. I swear he thinks he bursts into flames interacting with people.

Ikkan:......*sigh*......

Warabi: what were you two doing for 45 minutes?

Ikkan: fuck off

Warabi: hehehehehehe going to tell your mom on you

Ikkan: Warabi!

Warabi:[wheeze]

_______________________________________________

Mahi and @fish-at-fish-fish-resort or caught stealing one of the wine barrels

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

All In 5

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, power imbalance, low self esteem, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: you meet a mysterious man on a night out with your sister. (petite!reader)

based on the winning option for this poll

Characters: casino owner!Bucky Barnes

Note: Happy weekend.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

The car comes to a stop. It takes you a minute to notice as you reel yourself back to reality. You blink through the tinted window as Merv turns the music down; a song about glory days or something. 

“Here we are,” he announces and cranes to look back at you, “have fun, miss.” 

“Have fun...” you whisper to yourself in confusion, “what? Where do I go?” 

He laughs, not mockingly, and he points through the window, “well, you’ll want to go into that restaurant and give them Mr. Barnes’ name. They’ll sort you out, I’m sure.” 

“Oh,” your brows draw together. A restaurant. What? 

You undo your seatbelt hesitantly and peer out through the glass again. This is strange. You’ve only had a few interviews and most of them were in cramped backrooms or closets. You pull the handle and let yourself out, thanking Merv before you step up on the curb. 

You shut the car door and hook your bag over your shoulder. You stare up at the restaurant’s marquee. It’s a bistro of some sort. Upscale by your measure, thought you have little experience beyond chain joints and fast food. The white facade with its tall windows is intimidating as you approach the entrance. 

As you step inside, you’re all but assured that you don’t belong. A woman greets you with a pearly smile, her hair in a wispy bun, as she sports a flowery white dress. You look back and forth as she cradles a tablet in one arm. 

“Do you have a reservation?” She asks. 

You look down at yourself. That’s a generous assumption. You don’t know how she’s not telling you to leave. 

“Erm, I... I think I’m looking for someone,” you say, “Mr. Barnes?” 

“Barnes, yes, party for two,” she taps the screen, “he’s waiting. Won’t you follow me?” 

She spins on her heels and strolls away. She’s tall and gorgeous, just like the woman at the casino. You peer around and find no less finery and beauty among the staff and diners. The table are all white and polished and the walls are hung with abstract paintings of heaping fruit and bright cocktails. You’ve never seen brunch done so extravagantly. 

You nearly trip as you look ahead just before you reach the stairs. The hostess climbs ahead of you. You envy her modelesque figure. How is she stuck here? She’s breathtaking. She could be in magazines. 

More importantly, where are you going? 

Several flights and you emerge into the open air. You've never been on a rooftop. You’ve seen things like these in movies. There’s a bar center to the space and tables beneath umbrellas set all about. There is only one diner despite the sunshine. It is strangely desolate for such a warm scene. 

You’re led to the only occupied table. Mr. Barnes stands as you near. He wears a pair of teal slacks and a patterned shirt with an open collar. Casual but just as refined as before. It hardly seems like job interview. 

“Doll,” he greets you with a kiss on the cheek to your surprise. You don’t comment on it, it might just be his way. “You made it.” 

“I...” you check your watch, “it was before noon when I got to the casino.” 

“That’s on me,” he insists as he pulls out the chair for you, “I got restless. Changed my mind. Please.” 

He gestures to the seat and you accept stiffly, moving your bag into your lap as he tucks the chair in under you. He resumes his seat and looks up at the woman patiently standing to the side, “Melody,” he says, “she’ll have a vodka cran, give me my usual. Thanks.” 

“Yes, Mr. Barnes,” she replies eagerly. 

“Oh, and the lunch menu,” he returns. 

She clacks off in her heels as you squirm and clutch your purse. You peer around the rooftop and finally at Bucky. You give a sheepish smile. 

“This is a nice place.” 

“Sure is,” he sits back carelessly. There is no tension in him but your wound tight as a spring. 

“Never been anywhere like this...” your eyes drift over and you stare at the city skyline. 

“Made sure we weren’t near the edge, doll,” he assures, “I remember you’re not a fan.” He rests a hand on the table, rubbing his index and thumb. “And I wanted to have this time alone so my pal did me a favour and cleared the roof.” 

“Oh, wow.” 

“He owns this place,” he shrugs. “Never got into the restaurant business. It’s fickle.” 

You nod, not knowing what to say. He knows about these things. Obviously, a lot. You’ve never even worked a full-time week of work. 

“How’s your sister?” He asks, “I assume you got home safe.” 

“Yes, er, thank you, again, for doing all that,” you bite your lip and his blue eyes catch the gesture as his eyebrow tweaks. “I’m really sorry she did that.” 

“Doll, you’re real sweet apologising for her,” he inclines his head slightly, “but you gotta worry about yourself, don’t ya? That’s why you’re here.” 

The hostess, Melody, reappears and sets down two glasses. Yours is bright red with a lime on the rim and his is dark, no ice. She lays down a menu in front of each of you and straightens her posture. 

“I have to get back to the door but Hailee will be up to help you shortly. Our specials today are a goat cheese and beet salad or a brown sugar salmon with seasonal veggies.” 

“Thanks,” Bucky says as he taps the menu. 

Melody leaves you again and you bend your neck to read the menu. You look for a price beneath the dishes and find none. That can’t be good. 

“I’m not very hungry,” you sit up straight. 

“Doll, don’t worry about it. It’s on me,” he circles his hand around his glass, “why don’t you try your drink? Make sure it’s up to snuff.” He sits forward and lifts his own, “cheers.” 

Your hand slips up the condensating glass before you get a grasp on it. You raise it and clink it against his. You bring it to your lips slowly as he does the same, mirroring you as he watches you intently. You gulp and set down the glass as your cheeks strain. 

“You don’t like it?” He wonders. 

“No, I... well, I don’t drink much,” you take the cloth napkin and dab your lips. 

“Ah, if that’s too tart, you can have a look at the cocktails. Some of them are so sweet, you wouldn’t know the difference.” 

“I’m okay,” you assure him, “so...” you swallow and force out your breath, “about the job--” 

“Damn, doll, I’m so all over the place lately, I didn’t even tell you how good you look.” 

“I...” your eyes widen but you quickly wipe away your shock, “that’s nice. I mean, thank you.” Your voice shakes as you struggle to comprehend the compliment. What do you say? “You too.” 

He smirks, “yeah, you think so?” 

“What?” Your voice cracks. 

“You think I look good?” He combs his fingers through his long hair. Oh god. 

“Yes,” you answer cautiously, “I like your shirt.” 

“You’re adorable,” he snickers and shakes his head, leaning forward once more, bending his arms against the table. 

“Uh...” you peek down at the table and back to him. You can’t even blame the sun that you’re about to melt. The umbrella blocks out the bright beacon though a glare comes over the edge. “Bucky, sir, Mr. Barnes,” you shuffle through his titles, “the job. What would that be?” 

His brows rise and he brings a hand up to drag over his mouth and beard, his fingers brushing along the trim of his jaw. 

“The job,” he repeats as he narrows his eyes, “ah,” he lowers his head and presses a fingertip to the menu, “let’s order before we get into all that.” 

You look over the menu again then raise your chin, “I appreciate it, but it’s too much, Bucky. I wouldn’t want to... waste your money.” 

“It’s my money,” he looks at you, “so I’ll decide how I waste it.” 

“Oh,” your cheeks set alight, “I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t be,” he tilts his head again, “you’re just that type of girl. You don’t know what it is to be treated so allow me to show you.” 

You’re confused. This is the oddest encounter you’ve ever had. You almost feel like it’s a joke. You’re this poor helpless girl and he’s flaunting how rich and powerful he is. Is there even a job? 

“I’d feel worse if you didn’t eat, so doll, don’t step on my toes.” 

You chew your cheek and look down again. That’s it. You’ll have the cucumber sandwich. That’s not too much. It can’t be. 

The waitress arrives, a different woman but just as stunning. She introduces herself as Hailee. Bucky prompts you to order first before he gives his own. As she leaves, you rock slightly in your chair, stilling yourself before you can look weird. 

“So... I could clean or... I could learn something--” 

“Let me stop your there, doll,” he puts a large hand up, his palm rough and lined. “It’s my turn to apologise. I... haven’t been honest with you.” 

Your heart drops and you can’t help the glimmer in your vision. No. You’re going to have to go home and tell your mother you failed again. That you wasted her time and gas. You close your eyes and frown. 

“Doll, doll,” he says and you hear his chair scrape. You open your eyes as he pulls his chair around to sit closer to you, “hey, let me finish here.” 

You look him in the eye. Big mistake. You could drown in the blueness. He smirks and rubs your arm. 

“I’m not... it’s not a job I have to offer you,” he says deliberately, his other hand fluttering on your knee, “I would call it an arrangement. Mutually beneficial.” 

You stare at him. You’re entire being is on fire. You don’t understand what he’s saying, more so, you can barely think with him touching you. 

“But... I need a job,” you sniffle. 

He scoffs, not unkindly, “you’ll have money. I know you got a family, your sister, maybe your parents? Economy’s tough, I know it.” 

“Money? For what?” 

He squeezes your knee and sits up, draping his arm over the back of your chair as he leans even closer, “for your company. For yourself.” 

“What?” Your voice piques sharply. “I don’t...” 

“Look, let’s take it slow here, alright? Today is the taster. We spend some time together, see how we vibe, and go from there. Now I know you went to a whole lot of trouble to get so nice and pretty for me today,” he coaxes, “and I’m not gonna waste your time so you won’t go home empty handed. One thousand.” 

“Thousand?” You breathe. 

“Just for lunch,” he says, “I’d pay a lot more so I’m open to bartering.” 

“That’s... a lot...” you mutter. 

“Nothing’s too much for a girl like you,” his fingers dance along your shoulder. 

“I... I...” you heave each word. 

“Now don’t you freak out,” he’s on the edge of laughing, “doll, I mean it. Just lunch. You and me. Nothing...” he pulls away from you and puts his hands up, “untoward.” 

He stands and moves his chair back across from you. He sits and pushes his shoulders wide, “I mean it. Let’s get to know each other. I want to know all about you, doll.” 

“Me?” You gulp. 

“You,” he points over the table, “you must like music. You went to that concert, didn’t ya?” 

You nod and curl your shoulders. 

“What kinda music you like?” 

“Oh, I... old stuff, I guess. Destiny’s Child?” You give a sheepish cringe. 

“Old school,” he remarks, “I like it. Spice girls too?” 

“Yeah,” you clamp your lips together. 

“I’m not teasing ya. I can’t lie and say I never turned the radio up when I heard them,” he chuckles, “no judgment. That goes for you too, alright? When you find out how much I like ABBA, you can’t giggle.” 

Your cheeks dimple as you try not to smile. It’s hard to imagine him listening to Dancing Queen. You push your shoulders higher and look away. 

“Don’t laugh,” he chides. 

“I didn’t,” you turn back to him. 

“Yeah, you’re too nice, that’s why,” he purrs, “you gotta tell me your fave ABBA song.” 

You shrug and he squints cynically, “everyone has one. Come on. Fernando?” You shake your head at his guess. “Waterloo?” Again, no. “Mamma Mia?” Nope. “Take a Chance on Me?” No. “Alright, I surrender, tell me.” 

“Gimme, Gimme, Gimme,” you eke out. 

“Hm, not what I would guess but interesting,” he muses as his eyes wander from your face and back up, “but I at least knew you had taste.” 

He winks and you let out a giggle. Whether your nervous or something else, you can’t untangle all your emotions from one another. Yet you do feel a little better, a little lighter. It’s an unexpected situation but not as bad as you foresaw. 

[eldritch-spouse]

Mervin with an S/O who can read minds? Not like direct thoughts, but general moods and intentions. So no matter how mean he gets, they always know what he means/is trying to say and rarely take insults to heart.

But they don’t tell him for that first period of time in knowing him, and he’s just really confused and kind of paranoid on how nothing ever seems lost in translation with them.

One of the moods and sentiments you're going to pick up on Mervin a lot, although not physically evident, is gratefulness. As well as relief.

He just... He can't believe this is happening. You're perfect. Well, of course you are, he picked you after all- But you supersede even his own expectations and demands of a partner! Suspiciously so, yes, but his initial assumption is that you've interacted with prideful folk for long enough to understand the most common social coding their communication involves. There's an overflowing happiness when you correctly interpret something that flies out of Mervin's mouth without thinking, he can barely hide his own giddy grins.

Once you do tell him that you can read these emotions and intentions, it becomes vastly embarrassing for Mervin- Because he's quite devoted and in constant infatuated awe of you, deep down, something you've been aware of this whole time.

From his brothers and Katia, you can often read a gentle gladness that you've entered Mervin's life. He seems truly at peace with you and your incredible talent.

While you're able to interpret Mervin's loving gestures properly now, you're also much more aware of his sinister intent.

You'll feel when Merv has something up his sleeve. When he has approached you with the nefarious desire to steal you from the world by force. Similarly, you might grow stunned by the overwhelming rage he exudes when someone starts getting too chummy with you, when his jealousy starts slithering around him.

In a more horrifying way, you will definitely know when Mervin has the intent to kill someone.

[dyns33]

Feeling rainy

Another Dream x female reader 

      “Honey, you look cloudy today. No, rainy."

     "I confirm, he is very rainy at the moment."

     "Matthew. Leave us."

     "Right away, boss. But I'm sick of being wet all the time when I fly in the Dreaming, thank you very much."

It had taken a little time, but during their relationship, Y/N had acquired several certainties about Morpheus, especially about his mood.

The master of nightmares was not very good at expressing his feelings. Mainly because he didn't always know them himself. Partly because he was stupid and not very good with people.

His emotions were like a storm inside him. And therefore, a storm inside the Dreaming, especially when he was nervous, angry or sad.

Happy or neutral sentiments were preferable, with the sky remaining blue, the sun lighting up the whole realm, and the wind seeming to sing melodies.

 Sometimes it was a little too hot, when he was in love and excited, but that was no big deal. Also, it never lasted very long.

Like the weather, Morpheus' mood was changing very quickly, and very easily.

And even though he was doing his best to hide his feelings behind a straight face, the Dreaming never left any doubt that something was bothering him.

     "Is it because of last night ?" Y/N asked calmly.

     "I don't wish to talk about it, love."

     "Not even to please me ? I don't like it when you rain, especially because of me."

     "... It's not because of you. I probably overreacted."

     "Kind of like always, darling, but that doesn't mean your feelings aren't valid. Do you want a hug ?"

     "... Maybe."

The tall, terrible prince of the stories certainly didn't like being seeing as weak, but when Dream was in Y/N's arms, he looked like a cat desperately trying not to purr with pleasure, totally at her mercy.

It wasn't a problem since they were alone, but dreams and nightmares guessed what was going on, as the clouds disappeared and a rainbow formed over their heads.

     "She has to cuddle him all the time."

     "Hush."

     "Merv is right. I may be his more or less emotional raven, but he clearly needs her as an emotional human."

     "Get out of my library."

All of this could have gone quite well, since Y/N had managed to decode the functioning of the Dreaming, and therefore of Dream, but sometimes he was visibly lost and upset by her emotions, not knowing how to help her, and beginning to feel them with her.

Which was not a good thing, for him, nor for his kingdom.

Y/N therefore asked for advice around her, knowing that it was useless to ask Morpheus directly. Morpheus never really answered questions. That being said, his subjects weren't necessarily better for it.

Lucienne, loyal intelligent Lucienne advised her to speak to the Lord, as communication was important, although she had to be careful how she wanted to express what she wanted to say, as the Lord could misunderstand things.

Merv and Matthew thought that they should say nothing and just cover him with kisses and compliments so that he would always be happy. Because everyone wanted him to be happy, and everyone loved rainbows.

The Corinthian had a different opinion.

     "You have to do exactly like him." he declared with three huge smiles.

     "What do you mean, like him ?"

     "You want to help him by doing anything so that he doesn't get overwhelmed by emotions ? So don't show any emotion yourself. Keep them inside, act neutral, use a monotonous voice, express your love with ridiculously complicated little sentences, and it will be perfect."

Normally, it would have been strongly discouraged to listen to a nightmare. But despite their bickering, the Corinthian was arguably one of the creations that knew Morpheus best, so Y/N thought it wasn't a bad idea.

After all, Dream was a bit like a sponge. Absorbing all the dreamers' hopes, fears, desires, emotions, and though he was a separate being who felt distinctly, he couldn't completely cut himself off from the rest of the world.

So it seemed logical that he was sometimes troubled by others, and therefore by Y/N, with whom he spent the most time.

It didn't cost much to imitate him. It wasn't necessarily easy, but she could do it, for him, so it wouldn't be rainy or stormy too often.

So she trained in front of a mirror, doing her best to remain impassive as she thought about a joke, her deceased grandfather, an adorable kitten, her boss whom she wanted to strangle, and lots of things that never left her indifferent.

Part of her had thought Morpheus wouldn't notice. Another hoped he would see it, that he would be happy, and that she could smile to herself.

While they were watching her favorite movie together, a funny scene played out and she didn't react. Then another, and another, until Y/N felt that Dream's attention was no longer on the screen, but on her.

     "My love, you seem distant."

     "Not at all. I'm enjoying a pleasant evening, with you." she said with a neutral tone.

     "... You didn't laugh. Would you like to see another movie ?"

     "No, I like this movie. You weren't laughing either, do you want to change ?"

     "I never laugh."

    "Because you're too melancholic to find aything funny ?"

     "... No. My laughter... I was informed that my laughter could be frightening."

Y/N then turned to him, and at that moment, she almost smiled, finding the revelation ridiculous and adorable,  wanting to hear that laughter that her lover was so ashamed of, out of curiosity, but above all to reassure him.

Except that for that, she would have to show emotions, and make him feel emotions, and the goal was to remain as neutral as possible, so Y/N forced herself to remain neutral, looking at him straight in the eyes so that he knew that she was serious, while looking for the right wording.

"I'm sure your laugh is sweet." was the best thing that came to her, patting Morpheus' hand, before watching the movie again.

There were many other moments like this, at the New Inn, at the park, in the Dreaming, and Y/N really thought that everything was fine, that she was doing a good job. The weather seemed calm, with a few distant clouds, but no storms in sight.

Still, there was something in Morpheus' eyes when he looked at her. Curiosity mixed with fear. She didn't dare tell him about it, thinking it was nothing, and he didn't tell her either.

Until Matthew came to visit her as she was getting ready to go to sleep.

     "I don't know if I should ask you to go to bed quickly, or advise you to stay awake."

     "Why ? What's going on ? Morpheus is in trouble ?!"

     "Uh... That depends. Is everything okay between you two ?"

     "Yes, perfectly fine. Why ?" she asked, suddenly worried.

     "I don't know. It's foggy at the moment. We've had a few rains, a few tornadoes, but Lucienne managed to calm it down. Except that... Hmm... I don't know if I should say it."

     "Matthew."

     "He thinks you don't love him anymore." sighed the raven, lowering his head.

The news hit Y/N straight to the heart. For a moment, she wondered how Dream could have come to such a conclusion. Then she remembered how Dream was, his difficulties in understanding people, emotions, and even if he himself didn't often show what he felt, he clearly needed others to show him.

For a month, Y/N thought to make him happy. For a month, Morpheus thought she wanted to leave him.

     "... This is a terrible misunderstanding."

     "Glad to hear that. Can you tell him, please ?"

Falling asleep when stressed might take a while, but Y/N needed to see Morpheus quickly, so she closed her eyes thinking hard about him, and she arrived on the balcony of his palace.

It was raining.

Obviously, Matthew had come to see her before Lucienne went to speak to her master.

Dream stood in the rain, motionless, watching his realm. He didn't move when she came close to him, resting her head on his shoulder.

     "I love you, you know that ?" she asked shyly.

     "I hope so."

     "In wanting to please you, I made a mistake. Your mood changes so easily, you can be so fragile, so sensitive."

     "I'm not fragile." he muttered, continuing to stare into the distance.

     "You are, but that's neither an insult nor the question. I thought... The Corinthian told me that if I don't show my emotions, I won't upset you with them and that you I would be happy. I wanted to help, really. Since you know that I love you, I imagined that it wouldn't change anything. It would be inside, like for you. Sorry."

Finally, Dream turned to her, looking surprised and solemn. He stared at her for a long time, before taking a deep breath.

     "I see. So you made several mistakes, indeed."

     "Dream..."

     "You listened to the Corinthian, a nightmare."

     "I know."

     "You thought it would be good for you to keep your emotions inside, like me. Knowing that my emotions are never really inside, but entirely outside, in the Dreaming, while you should keep your storms in your little heart."

     "I get it, I..."

     "And you believed that I would like you to deprive me of your smile. Of your laughter. That you hide your sadness from me, which I could erase with kisses. Your anger, which I could appease with poems. Your love, which I carry in my chest. All this to make me happy ?"

So Morpheus did something that Y/N hadn't imagined.

He laughed. 

And like he said, his laugh was a little scary. Inhuman. A sound that mortals weren't supposed to hear, that no one was supposed to hear. But he was laughing, and he was smiling, and he came over to kiss her, and Y/N thought she liked that sound a lot.

     "My love, your emotions, all your emotions, are my joy. Do not hide them from me."

     "Okay. But promise me you'll tell me when it's rainy, and why."

     "Very well."

     "And I was right, your laugh is very sweet."

     "Yeah, I guess love makes you blind and deaf."

     "Matthew. Leave us."

     "Yes, boss. Glad it's not raining anymore."

Indeed, the sun had returned as he spoke, a bright sun, and even if the weather could never be perfect, like their relationship, Y/N would do everything to make Morpheus as bright as possible.

[spawksstuff]

De on Merv Griffin Star Trek II Promotion

Transcript below.

Merv: Well you saw DeForest in this last scene that we saw appear uh not the docking the- what do you call it? The?

Leonard: I’m not going to help you.

Merv: Whatever they do with the ship in space to get it going.

Leonard: We’re taking it out of space dock.

Merv: Taking it out of space-that’s what you call it?

Leonard: Yes.

Merv: They were taking it out of the space-I thought there were technical words.

Leonard: Space dock is Bones McCoy.

Merv: Going to de-dock. De-dock the spaceship Yeah, yeah.

William: (unintelligible)

Merv: Well this is the young fella who portrays the outspoken ship’s surgeon Doctor Leonard Bones McCoy. Would you please greet DeForest Kelley.

DeForest: First off-

(unintelligible)

DeForest: Yeah. I want to tell you that I have nothing coming out other than Star Trek II except a 75-year-old turtle which just came out of hibernation.

William: Oh my word.

Merv: You wanna talk about it DeForest?

DeForest: Well her name is Myrtle

Merv: Myrtle the Turtle?

DeForest: Myrtle the Turtle which is a very original name of course.

Leonard: He or she?

DeForest: Myrtle’s a she. I gave you remember?

Leonard: Yes I remember.

Merv: And how do you know she’s 75? Where’d you peak around?

DeForest: Well a friend of ours gave us the turtle which was shown to a vet and the vet arrived at the age.

William: The rings around the shell.

DeForest: The rings around the shell and we’ve had the turtle 10 years and we felt it would be a good thing to have something in the house older than both of us.

Merv: Was the house in an uproar when she came out of hibernation?

DeForest: Just a terrible uproar. It upsets us each spring, it’s a terrible feeling-but I’m glad she’s out. But I must tell you something before I forget about it. I’m so scared, I never do talk shows you know.

Merv: Well we’re delighted you’re here

DeForest: I’m absolutely a wreck I must tell you

William: You don’t like a wreck Leonard-DeForest

Leonard: You look alright.

Merv: You look very relaxed and comfortable.

DeForest: Thank you.

Leonard: You’re handling it beautifully De.

DeForest: That’s what you always tell me.

Merv: You’ve not always been a good guy on film.

DeForest: No, no I haven’t.

Merv: You had your years of being the bad guy.

DeForest: Yes indeed. Yes, a great number of them.

Merv: Which is preferred DeForest?

DeForest: I don’t know. I spent about 10 years trying to get out of the heavy department. There were a group of us running around at the time, James Coburn, and a guy named Jack Elam, with the crazy eye, and there were about 5 of us that were running from show to show. And I got into this thing, I like them because they really are the most interesting roles I find actually.

Merv: More guts to ’em.

DeForest: But then like everything else, I wanted to get out of it. And I had just- I was finding my way out of it, slowly. I had done a film called “Raintree County” in which I got away-he was still a heavy, I kill Lee Marvin in the show.

Merv: That very seldom almost ever happens.

DeForest: But he was a good guy as far as I was concerned. I only kill one guy. But then Eddie Dmytryk put me in a role at Paramount called “Where Love Has Gone” and that was not a heavy. Then I went into Star Trek after that and I got into the Doctor McCoy thing.

Merv: And you’ve just been a lovely person ever since.

DeForest: Yes, I’ve just been darling.

Merv: What’s your most vicious moment on the screen do you feel DeForest?

Leonard: Insulting me.

DeForest: Yes, this is right here.

Leonard: All the time.

DeForest: My situation right here.

Leonard: This is terrible what I have to put up with him.

DeForest: I must tell you about some friends of yours that I do not know personally but on Star Trek one, I went to Australia and New Zealand to do some promo stuff for the film and on the way back I stopped in Hawaii for rest and relaxation. And while there, I was staying at the Kahala Hilton, if you’re familiar with it-

Merv: Very

DeForest: The units that are in the back of the hotel that lead right out to the beach the apartments-

Merv: Oh yeah right out on the-

DeForest: Yes.

Merv: Everyone always fights for those.

DeForest:  And all we did was sleep we were so you know with the jetlag and the whole thing so I had been down to the pool a couple of times and found that it wasn’t too- hi Bob how are you? That it wasn’t-that’s Bob Sallin

Merv: We know.  

DeForest: Yeah we saw him. You put the camera on him, handsome. We had, Carolyn had not been out of the unit hardly at all and I had wondered out. I went to the swimming pool and I found the usual thing, signing autographs and that sort of thing. And I thought well that’s no fun so, but I did see this beautiful coral reef running out to sea and I said, “Carolyn” I said “before we go back to California” I said “you gotta come out, at least walk out on this coral reef”. So we walked down these steps and there was the grass and then the beach. And as we got to the foot of the stairs this applause, tremendous applause, these people on the beach, started to applaud and I thought “My God it can’t” you know this is impossible.

Merv: Well your best performances-

DeForest: Carolyn said “just ignore it and keep walking”. I said “I can’t do that.” They just kept applauding and kept applauding. I said “I can’t do that” I said “I must go and speak to them, at least say hello.” So I walk out there, and here was Don Rickles and his wife.

Merv: Probably coming out of the coral.

DeForest: That’s right, out of the coral. Steve and Eydie.

Merv: Oh the whole gang.

DeForest: And Bob Newhart and his wife. I had never met them before. Come to find out they’re the biggest Trekkies in the world. They had seen the film the night before and they were thrilled with it. The only thing was they Eydie said that she was very unhappy about the theme, the music, and she missed the Star Trek theme. But I had to tell you that because I’ve seen them on your show so many times.

Merv: Oh I know. And I have also been there at the same time they have been at the Kahala.

DeForest: They go there every Christmas.

Merv: And the only fortunate one who is ever there is that dolphin who can swim underwater and get away from Don Rickles. Let’s show another-I can’t wait. I figure if I show enough of these clips I won’t have to pay to see the movie.

DeForest: We haven’t seen it.

Merv: Oh, well this is where Khan, or “Can” as the case may be. Richardo “Mat-ol-ban” Montalban has killed almost everybody but Captain Kirk. (Note: earlier Shatner was being interview alone, and at one point he pronounced "Wrath" as "Wroth" so Merv and Leonard had been teasing him about his pronunciation .)

DeForest: I see.

Merv: Oh you haven’t seen it?

DeForest: No I haven’t seen it.

Merv: Is there a doctor in the house?

DeForest: But I see what you’re talking about. Yes, you’ve got it here.

Merv: Another scene from Star Trek II. Watch.

When they come back from the clip William talks about Ricardo and then they go to a commercial so I ended it here. The interview continues with Bibi Besch coming out, but I have not been able to find that portion of it.

[valeriianz]

Parent Trap AU part 2! told from Robyn and Orpheus' perspective haha. (part 1!)

“Lemme see!”

“Quit shovin’!”

Robyn hovered above Orpheus, forcing the boy to crouch low so they could both poke their heads around the corner to spy on their dads.

Hob and Dream had been dancing around each other all week. Smiling and laughing and even touching each other with more and more frequency (a tap on the shoulder, a hand on the small of the back, even shoes brushing under the table). The twins’ masterful plan to make Hob and Dream fall in love again seemed to be going well… but just before anything earth-shattering happened, anything concrete, the two men seemed to remember themselves and backed away. To the utter bewilderment and anguish of the twins as they retreated back to the drawing board. 

(Literally. It was a large crayola canvas that Orpheus had in his room to doodle on).

Robyn didn’t get it. It was so obvious Dream– the father he’d always known existed somewhere– still had feelings for his dad. It had been hard to tell, in those first couple days pretending to be Orpheus, but once he’d started earnestly asking Dream about Hob, forcing him to recall stories from the past and watching as he’d smile or laugh softly to himself, his gaze far away and misty, it became clear.

But then Dream would shake his head, clearing it, and change the subject.

Robyn and Orpheus had felt that connection between themselves instantly. That zap of recognition like, “Ah-ha! We were meant to find one another.” Why was it so difficult for Dream and Hob to see it?

Robyn huffed. Grown-ups.

After briefly parting for a couple days, Robyn found himself back at Orpheus and Dream’s luxurious home, under the pretence of one last stay to reacquaint themselves to the idea of shared custody or something along those lines, the boys didn’t really understand it, but what they did understand, was that their dad’s would be sleeping under the same roof. But only for a few days.

And after chasing Cori out of the house (good riddance, the pompous git. The boys made sure to give him hell), Robyn and Orpheus knew they had to utilise their time well, plotting their biggest scheme yet.

They, along with help from Dream’s butler, Mervyn, had set up this elaborate dinner that– oh no, Robyn and Orpheus wouldn’t be able to attend, leaving their parents to dine alone. Orpheus had set the scene: candlelight dinner, serving their dad’s favourite dishes, and (Merv’s idea, bless him for taking interest in the boy’s tomfoolery) soft jazz that would eventually transition into a very special song.

“You’ll see,” Mervyn had winked at the boys as he set up the playlist. 

Robyn and Orpheus watched now, as their fathers sat down for dinner, perplexed at the absence of their sons (Dream looking exasperated and Hob scanning the room knowingly, biting down a smirk). The table was clearly only set for two people, and Robyn had done a fantastic job (in his opinion) of decorating with candles and flowers– he had studied that old photograph of their dad’s, copying the layout of the table they sat at there.

Mervyn came out and poured the wine, which is when Dream inquired where Robyn and Orpheus were.

“Afraid they couldn’t make it,” is all Mervyn said, as if the boys were very busy, tied up in meetings and paperwork and whatever else grown-ups did.

Hob propped an elbow on the table and let his head fall in the palm of his hand, shaking it slightly and fully smiling now, amused.

Robyn grinned too.

It took them a moment to finally start talking, but they fell into it, eventually. Discussing the boys at first, “little tricksters…” pranking Cori, stealing his glasses, setting the dog loose while they had wine and cheese on the terrace, and finally spooking his horse while he and Dream were out riding so the horse galloped wildly into the brush, knocking the ridiculous blond American off his saddle and into the mud.

Hob tried hiding his snickering behind his hand as Dream recanted these events to Hob, but Dream caught him with a woebegone sigh.

“It’s not funny, he sprained his wrist.”

Hob took a deep inhale, gathering himself.

“After all that wine and cheese, I hope he shit his pants, too.”

“Hob!” Dream snorted inelegantly, slapping a hand over his mouth, which only set Hob off again, laughing in earnest now.

The boys had to move away once they heard the squeaking of their own muffled laughter, both hands over their mouths, wheezing through their teeth.

“You’re just as bad as them,” Dream finally spoke after the giggles had worn off.

Hob shrugged noncommittally, mischievous grin still on as he took a long sip of his wine.

“You like it,” he said confidently, eyes sharp.

Dream said nothing, popping a forkful of beet and pear salad into his mouth.

After appetisers was dinner, then dessert. The time ticked away slowly and the boys eventually moved from their vantage point to the kitchen, asking Mervyn how it was going and the butler shooing them out with barely anything to go off of.

But it was going well, as far as the boys could tell. The conversation between Dream and Hob was flowing steadily, Dream giving out his smile more and Hob unable to take his eyes off of him. The grand finale was coming up and Robyn and Orpheus held their breaths as the jazz flittered out and in its place, a violin came up and both Dream and Hob seemed to seize up at the same time.

Orpheus was beginning to think this was a bad idea, especially as his father sat up ramrod straight, his fingers drumming on the table's surface. And Robyn’s dad looked…

Well, he looked– tortured, was a pretty close description. His lips had parted and he kept looking between Dream and his own hands, which he had begun wringing out in his lap.

“You’re just too good to be true…Can’t take my eyes off of you…”

A male’s voice crooned through the speakers, but Robyn and Orpheus paid it no mind as they silently watched their fathers.

Finally Dream met Hob’s gaze and held it. The boys held their breath, too. Wondering what was going to happen now.

“Do you think they know?” Hob asked quietly, so quiet that Robyn barely heard him speak.

“It’s our wedding song, of course they knew,” Dream sighed, casting his gaze up to the ceiling.

It was Hob’s turn to tap his fingers on the table, thinking, and making his mind up about something as he pushed his chair out and stood.

Orpheus took Robyn’s arm and shook it as Hob stepped up to Dream, dipping slightly and offering his hand.

“Dance with me?”

Dream stared at Hob’s hand, lips parted. Robyn felt himself shaking with the effort to remain calm.

Dream swallowed, Robyn could see from here.

“Do you think this is wise?” he asked in a whisper, eyes flicking up to Hob.

After a moment of tense silence, nothing but the song quietly playing, Hob took a long breath.

“It’s our song, we can’t not dance to it.”

And as if that was sound enough logic, Dream carefully took Hob’s hand, fingers elegantly curling around it, and allowed himself to be pulled up and led to a spacious spot away from the table.

Hob took the lead, using his hold on Dream’s hand to pull him close, the other hand circling his waist and causing Dream’s eyes to flutter shut as he willingly stepped closer, their bodies nearly touching, his own hand resting on Hob’s shoulder.

Robyn and Orpheus could barely watch now, from this angle. They scooted back out into the hallway to find another spot where they could see more clearly.

The only other option was from above, a loft directly above the dining room which was Dream’s study, a place Orpheus wasn’t allowed to be in by himself, but he figured this was a good enough excuse to break that rule.

Orpheus led the way, quiet tiptoeing turning into a full blown sprint up the stairs and around the corner, shushing themselves as they got to the door of his father's office and quietly pushed it open. The music was louder up here, closer to the speakers that hung from the ceiling, so they wouldn’t be able to hear their fathers if they spoke, but they could properly spy on them now without being seen or heard.

Robyn followed Orpheus’ lead and crouched down, crawling forward on his tummy and poking his head out through the railing and peeking below.

Dream and Hob were still swaying to the music, just as close and eyes open, gaze locked to each other. They had picked up momentum now that the song was more than halfway over, the second chorus coming in with trumpets and bringing the rhythm up to something more infectious, more daring as Hob’s grip around Dream’s waist circled around the small of his back, holding him tighter as he began to spin them around the room.

Dream’s long legs kept up as Hob visibly loosened up, leading them in an informal waltz. Robyn caught his dad’s wide, toothy smile every time he turned and he could see his face clearly. His eyes seemed to sparkle. 

Orpheus nudged Robyn. “I’ve never seen my father smile like that.”

Robyn had noticed that Dream was smiling, too. But it was lips only, parting every now and then, like he was holding it back, biting his bottom lip afterwards to keep it at bay. But his eyes lit up in a way that was almost unrecognisable, focused solely on Hob.

Hob’s hand on Dream’s waist dropped, taking his other hand suddenly and taking a step back, turning Dream in his hold so his back was against Hob’s front, and spun him out, Dream following along with a surprised yelp and laughter that the boy’s heard from their vantage point.

When Hob pulled Dream back in, they were closer than before, chests flush together and noses bumping fleetingly. 

The song was coming to an end, fading out as Hob and Dream slowed in their dancing to a standstill. 

Orpheus gasps next to Robyn. “They’re gonna kiss.”

“Shh!” Robyn bumped his elbow to his brother’s side. 

The boys held their breath as the song finally ended and another one started, instrumental jazz again. The men stood so Robyn and Orpheus could see both of them from the side, watching with bated breath as Hob brought up Dream’s left hand and kissed the knuckles, eyes glued to Dream’s.

Hob said something, his lips moving, unable to make out from here, but Robyn could see how Dream’s eyes widened as Hob dropped his hold on the other hand, moving his up to cup the side of Dream’s face.

Hob leaned in, agonisingly slow, eyes half-lidded. 

And was met with Dream turning his face away, so not even the boys could see what expression he gave off.

Hob’s head dipped, defeat radiating off him, his forehead resting solemnly on Dream’s temple.

Robyn had to bite his tongue to hold back the groan of frustration that bubbled up in his throat. All Orpheus’ and his hard work!

Dream swallowed again, his jaw twitching, saying something, to which Hob shook his head, finally dropping his hands and ripping himself away.

“Hob, I’m sorry��” the words barely made it up to the twin’s ears, spoken by Dream, broken and thick.

Hob shook his head again, a painful, false smile plastered onto his face as he took another step back, then another, putting more and more distance between them.

“No…” Orpheus bemoaned, sitting up slightly. “What’s happening?”

Hob said something, quiet, before finally turning around and walking out of the room.

A long, heavy moment permeated the air, made doubly awkward as the music continued to play.

Dream stood, wrapping his arms around his middle.

And the boys simultaneously rolled onto their backs, staring blankly up to the ceiling.

So they missed the way Dream wiped a hand over his eyes, took a steadying inhale, and ran after Hob.

[tj-dragonblade]

[FIC] On the Edge of a Waking Dream

Fandom: The Sandman Pairing: Dreamling (Hob x Dream) Rated: M Word Count: 3914 Tags: MonsterFucktoberBingo 2023, Dreamling Nation House of Horrors 2023, human Dream, ghost Hob, modern day setting, main character death, technically, is Hob a main character, the prompt is ghost so not DEAD-dead regardless, ghost character, ghost sex, sex toys, anal sex, suicidal ideation, unconventional happily-ever-after, these tags are a very mixed bag, angst in my lighthearted ghost story?, it's more likely than you think, brief appearance by Daniel Hall, brief appearance by Merv

Additional Warning: There is a conversation toward the end that dips into the subject of suicidal ideation. If you need to avoid it, it's the section that begins "Would that I could stay here forever, with you" - skip that whole section and you'll be good.

Notes: Title taken from I'll Be There, by Escape Club, 1991. This song has been on my Ficcable Songs list for more than two decades and finally I've done something with it. I'm…eugh. I think this would be better served as a longfic, but I'm. Not doing that. I'm happier with this now than I was with the initial draft, and that's good enough.

This covers Smoctober Day 9 prompt 'ghost', the Monsterfucktober square for 'ghost', and the Dreamling Nation House of Horrors prompt 'ghost'

Summary: Dream never believed in ghosts until his boyfriend became one

On AO3

~~~ Dream never believed in ghosts.

But then, his boyfriend became one.

Hob, his brash and boastful beautiful Hob, who'd talked of marriage once they were done with university, who'd laughed at the notion of dying and proudly declared he'd live forever. Hob, who had sworn to never leave him, had promised to be there for him always.

The universe had other ideas, unfortunately, but Hob was nothing if not adaptable.

~~~ Dream turned the key in the lock of their shared flat—just his flat, now, he supposed—numb and empty inside after the funeral. Debating the merits of crying in the shower vs going straight to bed (not their bed, not anymore) and crying himself to sleep, he pushed open the door.

The lights flicked on all by themselves.

All of the lights, in every room of the flat.

Which was disconcerting, but he was tired, and emotionally drained, and made a mental note to check with the property manager about the wiring just in case.

The electric teakettle clicked on when he entered the kitchen; convenient, as he had intended a cup of chamomile before trying to sleep, but he added the oddity to his mental note for tomorrow. Tea in hand, he leaned against the counter, gathering the static in his mind to keep from focusing with any clarity on the loss clawing his insides hollow.

When his laptop on the corner desk powered itself on, he nearly dropped his tea. With mounting apprehension he watched as the computer logged him in and…opened Spotify? Then the music started, an old song he knew well, and the apprehension turned to disbelief.

Don't be afraid, oh my love I'll be watching you from above And I'd give all the world tonight, To be with you

"This is absolutely my song," Hob had said once when it came on. "Guy loved his partner so much he refused to go when death came for him? That'd be me."

"I thought you planned to live forever?" Dream had teased, gently, and Hob had grinned.

"Well yeah, that is the plan. But if it turns out I can't, then…sticking around as a ghost, that's my contingency plan." His smile had turned warm, tender, and he'd brushed a knuckle down the side of Dream's face. "I've got to see you're getting on okay if I'm gone, haven't I?"

Because I'm on your side, And I still care I may have died, But I've gone nowhere Just think of me, And I'll be there

"Hob," Dream whispered, tears welling, something like hope sticking in his throat, and the lamp on the desk flickered. "Is that you?"

The lamp blinked out and back on, twice, and Dream let out a sob. 'Twice' had always been their non-verbal and discretionary code for affirmation, blinking or shoulder taps or hand squeezing, and the warm sense of relief that poured over Dream at this confirmation was overwhelming. "Hob…how is this possible? Am I losing my grip on reality?"

The wireless mouse moved, waggled side to side in a clear imitation of shaking one's head 'no'.

"How is this possible," Dream murmured again, turning over and over the idea that ghosts could be real, that Hob could be one. "You died; I buried you. How can you be here?"

The mouse moved in a slow deliberate arc, sketching the shape of a heart.

Oh, there's no need to cry Just think of me, And I'll be there

Dream's throat closed up and he let out a sound half-laugh, half-sob as the song soared into its final chorus.

The mouse scooted across the desk, nudged the box of tissues closer.

Hob had so often talked about taking care of him; Hob had promised to never leave him.

Hob had, apparently, refused to go when Death came for him. "You were always a man of your word," Dream murmured, sniffling through a smile, and the light in the kitchen flickered happily.

~~~ Living with a ghost was surprisingly easy to adjust to, once he accepted the reality of it. He always had someone to talk to, and they quickly discovered that the notes app on his phone, or his computer, was a viable conduit for Hob to talk back when he felt like it. Dream's earbuds were always charged, his music library always managed to pull up exactly the right song for his mood, he never had to worry about whether he'd left the lights or the stove on and, annoyingly, his phone and computer always turned off at exactly the hour Hob had insisted on for a decent sleep schedule. But in all honesty, healthier sleep habits were a fair price to pay for having Hob back in some form when Dream had thought him lost.

Hob looked after him, made sure he kept living and thriving, and Dream threw himself into researching ghosts and spirits and how to attune oneself to them. Herbs and alignments and meditative practices, Dream tried them all and little by little, the more he learned, the more he began to feel the physical presence of Hob in their flat. A breath, a scent, a diffuse sense of warmth and calm, an overall impression that this was home and Hob was here.

~~~ "What was it like, dying?" he asked one day, during a lull in his research. He minimized the webpage and brought up the notes app. "If you don't mind talking about it, that is." He trusted Hob to tell him otherwise; communicating and respecting boundaries had always been easy between them. The cursor started moving a couple seconds later.

It would be impossible to discuss the subject without a common frame of reference.

Dream burst out laughing at that, the terrible hiccuping bray that Hob had adored, and a little old-school smiley emote appeared on the screen. But before Dream could draw breath to quote the next line back to Hob (You mean I have to die to discuss your insights on death??), the cursor was moving again.

Kidding. Not much to tell. Was a lady there, kind face, beautiful wings. Held out her hand, and I knew if I took it I'd never see you again. So I refused.

"And you were permitted to just…say no?"

Lady gave me a sad smile, said I couldn't go back; told her I couldn't go forward, either, not if it meant leaving you. When I promised I would never.

Dream could feel his eyes welling up and blinked, swallowed the lump in his throat.

She let me stay in between. Not perfect, but I don't have to leave. Can't leave you.

"I love you," Dream said, voice wavering. "I love you, Hob, I miss you but I'm so glad I still have you—" A little sob escaped, his eyes spilling over.

Death cannot stop true love, Hob typed then, in swooping pink script on the screen, and Dream could only smile through his tears as he answered.

"All it can do is delay it for a little while."

~~~ Dream kept seeking knowledge and Hob kept developing proficiency in being a ghost, more practice in interacting with the world and making himself known; soon enough Dream could genuinely feel Hob there, physically—a wisp of air against his skin, the phantom brush of lips to his temple, a full-body shiver of warmth when drifting off to sleep. He'd feel Hob like an embrace from behind while fixing his breakfast, while practicing his cello, while showering. Sometimes he would touch himself under the spray, stroke it to hardness and feel, unmistakably, the wispy grip of Hob's hand over his, the faint nudge of a phantom prick against his arse, an invisible mouth laving kisses to the back of his neck.

"You can manipulate any electronics, right?" he asked one evening, and when the lamp on his bedside table dimmed and brightened twice in the affirmative, he undressed and brought out the vibrator he had purchased the day before, knelt over on the bed, pressed the toy into his slick and opened body. "Then please, Hob—be with me, like this, have me, I still want—"

The toy jumped to life with a buzz and Dream gasped, shifted, rocked his hips as Hob cycled through every power setting and vibration pattern until he found the combination that made Dream shiver and squirm and grasp helplessly at the bedsheets, surrounded by the not-quite-there feeling of Hob draped over him, fingers twined with his, lips soft at the back of his neck as he surrendered to the onslaught of sensation.

He drifted off to sleep afterward with a soft smile on his face, the feel of Hob's arms around him and Hob murmuring "G'night, dove, I'll keep you safe" in his ear.

When he woke, the whisper of revelation was stirring at the back of his mind but it didn't click until he heard a soft "Good morning, beautiful" in Hob's dear voice and sat bolt upright, duly stunned.

"Hob! You can talk!?"

Nothing, for an instant, and then, still soft: "Dream? Can you…you can hear me now?"

"Yes!" he cried, overjoyed, and let the tears stream down his face as he heard Hob's happy laughter surrounding him, disembodied but bright and brilliant, for the first time in months.

~~~ Together they continued their studies, carefully experimenting with ways to thin the veil between worlds safely and securely. Hob's physical presence got stronger, more tangible as the days passed. His touch was never cold like so many sources claimed; it was warm, like lifting one's face to the morning sun in the first days of Spring, like the comfort of snuggling into the blankets on a winter evening.

Nothing about his Hob could ever be cold.

All his studies indicated that a ghost attaining visibility took time, and strength of will from the spirit, and 'openness' on the part of the living—which Dream had interpreted as willingness to believe that one might see a ghost. He did believe, wholeheartedly, knew without a doubt that Hob was still here with him and would eventually be ghost enough to manifest visibly.

It happened one night when Dream was drifting between awake and asleep; there, in that liminal state, he caught a glimpse of Hob for just an instant. It stole his breath, the sight of Hob before him again after all this time; Hob smiled at him, blindingly beautiful, and then he faded out and Dream woke, eyes wet, his own smile soft on his face.

"Hob?" he called, barely more than a murmur, and immediately the warm comfort of Hob's arms around him took hold.

"'M here," came Hob's disembodied voice, close to his ear. "Did you see me there, in between?"

"Yes," Dream breathed, emotion swelling within him. "You were. So beautiful. How I've missed the sight of you, Hob—" He turned, wanting to burrow into the warmth of Hob beside him, knowing there was nothing really there enough to accommodate his want.

"Sweet talker," Hob said, and then there were soft insubstantial lips touching his and Dream sighed into the phantom kiss, arching, reaching. Invisible fingertips traced his jaw, touched his throat, trailed down and brushed a nipple and Dream let a needy sound spill from him.

"Hob," he pleaded, keyed up, wanting, and felt more than heard the way Hob hummed in reply. And then the suggestion of a leg was pushed between his, urging him over onto his back and hands were stroking feather-light down his sides, a ghostly mouth moving beneath his ear. Dream whimpered, kicked free of the bedclothes, hooked his thumbs in his pajama bottoms and wriggled fluidly to get them down and off, laid back and spread his limbs and gave himself over to the slow sensual stoking of his pleasure.

Hob took his time as much by design as necessity, needing focus and intent to manage physical touch but also clearly delighting in the leisurely build of driving Dream higher and higher. He was skilled at it, also, had Dream trembling and moaning long before his ghostly tongue touched Dream's prick. It was hard, leaking, and Dream rocked into the wispy sensation of Hob's mouth around him, Hob's hands caressing the insides of his thighs, Hob's fingertips tracing intimately along the creases of his body.

Hob's touch was exquisite, erotic, and Dream was certain that with hours to enjoy it he would surely reach climax, but neither of them had that sort of patience just now. "Get the vibe, sweetheart," Hob said at last, and Dream scrambled to comply, retrieving it from the bedside drawer. "Open yourself up for me, need to watch you come undone—"

Breathless, Dream lubed the toy and pushed it in, bore down and gripped it tightly in anticipation, knees raised, waiting for Hob—

The toy turned on and Dream's head lashed back as sudden pleasure poured through him. "There you are," he vaguely heard Hob murmur, "my darling beautiful Dream—"

One day, Dream vowed, shaking as Hob cycled the toy into the perfect pulsing intensity that made him writhe and wail, one day, he would come from Hob's ghostly touch alone.

~~~ They met in waking dreams again, and again, each meeting strengthening their connection, anchoring them securely to one another across the veil. "Oh, my love, my precious dove," Hob murmured, when they managed to hold onto one another for more than a second, and then Hob's mouth was pressed against his, opening, warm—

He woke to the feel of Hob kissing him still, only less substantial, but as he opened his eyes, he caught a soft glimmer of Hob's face above him, hazy, barely there, and his heart skipped a beat.

"I can see you," he murmured against phantom lips, not daring to blink, breath held—but Hob drew back in surprise, in excitement, and his faint image flickered out. Dream sighed and let his eyes fall closed once more. "We'll keep trying. Come kiss me again?"

~~~ "Would that I could stay here forever, with you," Dream lamented, drifting on the edge of waking up, curled into Hob's embrace.

He felt the way that Hob went still and tense.

"You seem the most real here," he explained, "and I am. So tired, of not being able to properly touch you. Except here."

"I'm getting better at being substantial out there," Hob said, a very careful edge in his voice. "Be patient, dove, we'll get there."

"Or I could simply sleep forever, and never be without you again."

"You aren't without me now. I'm not going anywhere, Dream. You have me. Forever. What you're talking about is—" Hob stopped abruptly, unwilling to voice the thought.

"I know." Dream couldn't bring himself to look Hob in the eye, mumbled into the familiar comfort of Hob's hairy chest instead. "I wonder, sometimes, if…it might be worth it."

Hob vanished, and it was a sharp enough jolt that Dream woke completely.

Every light in the flat was flickering madly as Dream stumbled ouf of the bedroom; the smoke and CO detectors were screeching their alarm, his laptop sounding some kind of alert and the air conditioning unit in the window powering off and on repeatedly.

"Hob!" Dream tried to raise his voice above the din. "Hob, stop!"

The teakettle started up a sustained whistle and then Spotify kicked in with some metal band he couldn't immediately name, thrashing guitars and guttural screaming vocals, and Dream had to cover his ears. "Hob! HOB!"

It was another full minute of this cacophony, and then abruptly everything stopped. Plunged back into grey morning dimness and silence, Dream took a steadying breath, two.

"…Hob?" His voice, when it came, was small and tentative.

The kitchen light flickered sullenly, twice.

"Hob. I don't…I'm not—" He floundered; the words weren't coming.

"C'mere." He felt the swoop of Hob rushing past him, and followed him back to the bedroom. "C'mere," Hob repeated, from the bed, and Dream crawled up to sit against the headboard. The faint sense of Hob's arm settled around his shoulders and Dream felt the inevitable tears welling up.

"Sorry for throwing a tantrum," Hob's voice said, low and soft with sincerity. "It's just. You scared me. What you said." Dream felt lips brush his hair, holding there in a desperate approximation of a kiss.

"I know." Dream blinked, and the tears spilled over. "I don't mean it, but…"

"But it's crossed your mind."

Dream wiped his eyes. "Yes."

"I stayed to see you live your life, not to take it away from you." Hob's voice was shaky now, as if he was also crying—could ghosts cry?—and Dream could feel Hob's other arm across his chest, Hob holding him close, clinging to him. "Dream—I love you, I love you so much. And you have everything ahead of you. Please, please don't start thinking you're better off giving it all up. We don't even know if you'd wind up same as me—"

Dream closed his eyes, breathed slow and even. It was not that he wished, particularly, to die; it was simply that he wished to be with Hob more than he wanted anything else.

Except, perhaps, to not bring Hob pain or distress.

"I…am an amateur, at these occult studies," Dream said at last, eyes still closed. "It will take a lifetime of research and learning to ensure that I can share in your afterlife, that I will not leave you behind. I will need to live a very long life, to be. Certain."

"…Yes," came Hob's voice, steadier now but still with a trembling edge of wariness underneath. "Yes. You will."

"And I will need your help. To research, but also to remind me to eat, to buy groceries, to go to bed on time."

"Of course. You'll have it, anything and everything I can do to help. Promise me you won't give up."

"Hob," Dream breathed, because he had opened his eyes, and Hob was glimmering faintly there beside him—visible, if only just. "Hob—"

"Promise," Hob interrupted, lifting his head to look Dream in the eye, and Dream could see the exact second when he realized Dream was not looking through him, but at him.

"I will live to be ninety, I promise," he said, a little bit breathless, a little wrung out, very much elated. "Hob, I can see you—"

The smile on Hob's face, the way he glowed with joy, pushed every other thought from Dream's head, and when Hob leaned in for an ecstatic-if-still-a-touch-watery kiss, Dream's heart soared at how easily they connected.

~~~ Hob's visual manifestation in the waking world grew more and more frequent as the days went on, steadier, more solid in appearance. Strong emotion, they confirmed, was an excellent catalyst and soon enough he could maintain a weak-but-persistent shade, always a bit more distinct from the corner of Dream's eye than straight on. The more he practiced the better he got, at being both visually and tangibly solid, holding his presence, managing touch. Dream never minded that he always remained a bit transparent; he was there, still here, still with Dream, to whom he had promised forever.

~~~ "Still mine?" Hob asked many years later, float-lying half on top of him in bed, idly combing through the emerging greys of his hair, and Dream smiled.

"I can't imagine ever being anyone else's," he breathed, lifting a hand to touch Hob's face. He still had to be careful, to focus; it was all too easy for his hand to go right through Hob which was disconcerting for them both. But he was very good at it by now, and tucked a wayward strand of hair behind Hob's ear tenderly. "I don't want to be anyone else's."

"You don't have to be," Hob promised, drifting up to look down into his eyes. "I'm here, I'm yours, forever, as long as you'll have me."

"Forever," Dream echoed, smiling with the joy of it, and drew Hob down for a delicate heartfelt kiss.

~~~ "Sorry, kid, ain't got no vacancies."

Daniel's shoulders slumped, disappointed. The White Horse building was perfectly situated for getting to campus and he'd been told there was always at least one flat open, but apparently he was given incorrect information.

"Unless…" The guy in the property office tilted his head back, scratched under his scruffy chin, cigar caught between his teeth. "I mean, there is the haunted unit, 'salways empty…"

Daniel perked up. "Haunted unit?" He'd been drawn to the unusual all his life, fascinated by the paranormal, intrigued by the macabre. If this was true—

"Yeah." The guy slanted a look at him. "Last tenant—last tenant who stayed more'n a couple'a weeks, at least—was this old guy, lived there for decades. Him'n his boyfriend, they moved in when they were young but then the boyfriend died, an' the other guy just stayed the rest of his life, alone. Was a hundred n' five when he finally passed, and that was back in '89. Flat's been empty ever since. Folk'll move in, but it don't take long 'til they're backin' out on the lease. Lights won't work right, electronics're unpredictable, weird moanin' and screamin' noises in the walls, some even talk about apparitions they can't ever see straight-on but're always in the corner of the eye, in the shadows. Me, I don' believe'n none of it, never seen nor heard anything'f the sort, but regardless I can't keep anybody in there—"

"I'll take it," Daniel interrupted, excitement bubbling up in his stomach. A haunted flat? Could he be any luckier? "That is—if I may?"

"Look, kid, you wanna give it a shot? Go for it. Come on in, I'll draw up the paperwork. 'F you stay, I'll give ya a super steep discount—any rent comin' in's better'n none, heh!" He turned and stumped back into his office, still cackling and muttering; Daniel followed, mind racing.

If there was a ghost, a real ghost, it was probaby the boyfriend, who'd maybe been there all along and now didn't want anyone living in his and his lover's space. And Daniel was no true medium, but he'd grown up learning all kinds of 'alternative science' stuff from his mom's friends, so maybe he'd have a decent chance of communicating with the ghost, helping it find peace and move on.

He was half right. It was the boyfriend, but it was also the old man. Whose ghost was that of his younger self—and yes, Daniel was able to talk to them. Also, they had absolutely no intention of moving on. They were lovely, actually, had no problem with Daniel living there once they got to know him, willingly worked out a sort of 'roommate agreement' with him. Merv down in the property office made good on his promise of cheap rent, and Daniel's ghosts were always making sure the flat was in order, bills tracked and paid, cupboards stocked and groceries delivered, homework reminders set where he needed them and homework assistance given when asked. It was like…like having two dads, when he'd grown up without, and Daniel was hard-pressed to imagine how his life could possibly be better.

(He could do without the occasional auditory glimpse into their love life, but…well. Most of the time they were very good about not leaking across the veil in intimate moments, and ultimately who was he to begrudge them their eternal happiness?)

=== Started: 10/9/23 Drafted: 10/10/23 Additional Drafting: 10/27/23 Posted: 10/28/23

I have not read any of Daniel's canon material; my apologies if his voice sounds terribly wrong. Cookies for anyone who recognizes the movie quotes Hob used ❤️

[holybagelsstuff]

I proudly present to you...

Bagel's Matrix Ships List

I'll start by saying that Neotrin and Neosmith won't be on this list because they're GOAT and I'm never, ever gonna love them less. With that out of the way, let's go!

1. The Merovingian and Persephone

Canon, but it's here because it's always overlooked. I know they're an unhappy couple, but I'm sure love is still present there somewhere. Besides, two bitches are always better than one. I also think Merv and Perse were cute together during their early years in the Matrix. Would love to see more on them.

2. Smith x Brown

Two of my fav Agents together. I'm biased.

3. Brown x Trinity (Trinbrown)

That's hetero!Neosmith for mentally stable people. Two lonely souls who found themselves to be more than just enemies.

4. Neo x Trinity x Smith x Brown x Jones

I don't even know how to describe this. I guess I really want the Redpills and the Agents to get along..?

5. Neo x Deus Ex Machina

Honestly one of my most favorite ships. The One and the Main Computer. The epitome of connection Neo has with the Machines. Imagine this enormously large AI encircling Neo's much smaller body with its wires...

6. Niobe x Jason Lock

Niobe is obviously still in love with Morpheus, but I like them together with Lock. There's a distance between them, but they cherish each other a lot.

7. Mouse x The Woman in Red

Ma babies!! She might be the only girl that would ever want Mouse.

8. The Architect x The Oracle

These two give me huge married couple vibes. She's probably the only one whom the Architect has a soft spot for, if he's able to have one.

9. Weaving!Smith x Groff!Smith

Have I told you guys I'm into selfcest?

10. The Twins x upgraded Agents

These five would fuck out of sheer hatred for each other. Bonus points for the Upgrades being able to kill the Twins whenever they want. Gives them adrenaline rush.

11. The Analyst x Groff!Smith

(No pic because I reached the limit) Very sick and abusive relationship, but kinda hot.

[leathercircuits]

𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐓𝐫𝐢𝐧: 𝐖𝐡𝐲 𝐈𝐭 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐤

One of my mutuals, @tvboaerosmith, pointed out to me several things regarding the femslash that can be found in the comment section here. We agreed that how due to their similiar relational dynamic, these two femme fatales would be considered highly compatible, creating a dynamic and exciting relationship due to how they love for The One they care about, shared deadly lady energy, and the destruction they leave behind when crossed with.

He makes some interesting points—

Tv: It'd be nice to imagine Persephone, who lives on "kisses" and the sampling of other's emotions and loves, gets to have some of her own for once together with Trinity that doesn't need to be sampled from another pairing or induced by Merv.

Persephone’s love is all consuming. If the pomegranate scene wasn’t enough to depict that, then perhaps the scene where she kisses Neo should. Because her Merv lost the initial passion they’d share, it’s only fair for the temptress to long for something else to fulfill her needs. She only takes samples because it seems she could never just enjoy the whole plate. She’d go well with someone who not only serves her an entree, but the whole confounded buffet! All you can eat.

Tv: She should taken Neo’s place during that kiss scene! In my opinion, Trinity would have had stronger, more obvious emotions than Neo at the prospect of kissing somebody to "save Zion", which would have been more enjoyable for Persephone anyway.

Trinity’s whole purpose throughout The Matrix is to guide Neo to salvation and help him rise from the dead, which parallels her character with God. Once The Oracle told the latex angel her prophecy, she went through several failed attempts of finding her savior, but she never gave up. And when Neo was on the brink of death, it was her kiss that saved him. There is nothing special about Trinity's kiss. It's just a kiss. However, the timing of this kiss is very important. Neo's rebirth might not be that special either, because he didn't really die to begin with. It was all in his head. That is why she muttered the words, "I know you can hear me" so confidently. Her duty is to love and her love saves. Something I know Persephone is in dire need of.

The Merovingian & Persephone.

Neo & Trinity.

Notice how their names are always last? Just the average female experience. In society, they’d appear to only serve as an accessory to their powerful men. "Trophy wives."

Persephone: …just a sample.

Trinity: How about you sample this instead?

[intense lesbian makeout session noises]

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

All In 10

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, power imbalance, low self esteem, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: you meet a mysterious man on a night out with your sister. (petite!reader)

based on the winning option for this poll

Characters: casino owner!Bucky Barnes

Note: who's a tired bitch?

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

Bucky drives you home. Just him. No Merv. You have your books and the pajamas but it feels like so much more. 

His fingers tap on the shifter. You’re overly aware of his every move. You try to shrink yourself in the seat, feeling crowded with only him in the car. His hand slips and he reaches over to rest it on your thigh. He rubs you through your pants. 

“You alright?” He asks in a grit. 

“Yeah,” you squeak, fixating on his touch. “Fine.” 

“You don’t gotta be so nervous. You know I like you,” his fingers continue to move, sending ripples through you, “not much you can do to change that either.” 

You press yourself into the seat and flick your eyes up to the windshield. You recognise that house. Your thoughts rush over you and you grab his hand, squeezing it. 

“Stop,” you say. 

He hits the brake and you flutter your lashes, looking at him, “just drop me here. I can walk.” 

“What? Doll? What’s wrong?” 

“I... well... what if someone sees you?” You ask, “my mom, my sister... they’d wanna know why you were driving me home if I’m just working at the hotel, wouldn’t they?” 

He considers you and tilts his head, “hm, you’re clever too, doll. Suppose they would.” 

“I’m sorry, I’m not--” 

You keep your hand on his but don’t try to move him. Nor does he pull away. Instead, he squeezes your leg and lets out a purr. 

“I’ll make you a deal, doll, you give me a kiss and I’ll do what you say. You can go, enjoy your books, try on your jammies,” his blues eyes blaze at you, “and I’ll be patient. I’ll wait for you. Until tomorrow.” He makes a pained expression, “you know a man can only take so much when it comes to pretty women.” 

You giggle, overwhelmed by his words. No one ever calls you pretty, only your mom. In fact, Roxie always said it was good you have a brain because your looks won’t get you very far, and she wasn’t proven wrong. Not until him. 

“Okay, uh,” you gulp and look down at his hand, slowly peeling yours off of him, “I just...”  

You touch the seat belt and follow it down to the buckle. You click the button and let it repel behind the seat. You swallow again, trying to wet your dry mouth. If it gets you home without any extra questions, you can give him a kiss. It wasn’t so bad earlier, was it. It made you feel... a lot. 

You shift and lean towards him. His hand crawls up your leg to your hip as he urges you close, himself angling over the space between your seats. Your gaze meet his sapphire irises and you squeeze your eyelids shut. He’s so handsome you could melt. And he want a kiss. From you! 

You press your lips to his. He growls and his other hand comes up to the back of your head, holding you there before you can pull away. His tongue glides along your lips and delves past them. Like earlier, he invades your mouth eagerly, drawing you into him as he groans. You grasp the front of his shirt and squeak. 

The smell of his rich cologne seeps into your nose and his warmth swirls around you. You’re trapped by more than his strength; you’re completely swept up in his need. You’ve never felt anything like that. No one has ever wanted you as much as he has. Even if you’re scared, it’s nice to feel that. 

He leaves you breathless as he parts his lips from yours, hovering just before you as his pants shallowly. His tongue pokes out and traces his lips. He purrs and his eyes threaten to swallow you up. He’s even more handsome up close; ever line is like a paint stroke in a masterpiece, every hair is placed perfectly, and his features are sculpted just so. 

You blink and feel your chest crush. He's so much better than you; more attractive, richer, older, smarter... Your eyes gloss over just a little with the reminder and his hand slips down to your neck, his grip on your slackening. A divot forms between his brows in disappointment. 

“What’s the matter, doll?” He rasps. 

You shake your head and force a smile, “nothing,” you eke between taut cheeks, “I just... I don’t want to let you down.” 

“Doll, you can’t do that,” he chuckles, “you gotta trust yourself. Trust me. I mean every word I say.” He exhales and looks you up and down, “I want you so bad...” His fingers curl into your neck and you feel him shake, “you...” He closes his eyes, his lips slightly open, and he pulls his hand off of you. He recoils and sits back in his seat. “You should go before I just gotta show ya.” 

Is it a threat? It sounds like one. Your blood runs cold as he balls his hand to a fist. He puffs through his nostrils, eyes still closed as if he’s fighting himself. You reach back to grab the bag from behind the seat and pull it into your lap. 

“Thank you, Bucky, for the drive home,” you say, “and for everything else. It’s all so nice.” 

“Doll,” he dips his head down, “anything...” His fist tightens, “have a good night.” 

“You too,” you chirp and pull on the door handle. 

It doesn't open. Panic pricks in your chest as you search for the lock. You hear a pop and glance over as Bucky presses a button. The door unlocks and you nearly fall out of the car. 

You right yourself and close the door gently with a sheepish look in his direction. He watches you, reaching to grip the steering wheel. You give a tiny wave and slowly turn away. There’s a giddiness in you. Even if you’re entirely out of your element and can’t quite believe any of it, you feel special. You’ve never really felt that. Just forgotten. 

You start down the street. You don’t look back until you get to the corner and look back. Bucky sits still in the car, just where he stopped. You can’t see through the tinted windows. His headlights flash, a signal but for what, you’re not sure.  

You turn and continue onto your mother’s street. You stop just at the threshold and look down at the bag in your hand. You don’t like to lie but you need one. You walk up to the front door and onto the small porch. You enter quietly, hoping maybe you won’t be heard. You’ve never struggled very much before going unnoticed. 

Your sister lays on the couch in the breadth of the oscillation fan. It’s hot. The news said there’s a heat wave. You’re feeling it now. You almost feel bad that you’d been too busy to notice before. That you’d been in nice places where every detail, including the temperature, is perfect. 

“Finally home,” Roxie sneers without looking over the back of the couch, “long shifts at the casino, huh?” 

“Uh, yeah,” you do your best to keep the bag from crinkling. “Busy.” 

“That’s what a job is. Try a night at the club. That shit is chaos.” 

“Sure, uh, I can’t imagine,” you shuffle into the kitchen.  

You expect to find your mom waiting for you but it’s empty. You go to your room and hide the bag on the other side of your dresser. You close your door and come back out. She’s there, in her robe with a bonnet on her head. 

“Mom,” you croak, “hi, uh--” 

“How was it? First day!” She chimes. 

“Uh, yeah it...” your voice trails off as your jaw locks and you fear the truth spilling out. The day flows through your mind; the kissing, the books, the food, and more kissing. “...was a lot.” 

“Oh, yes, well, a casino,” she chuckles, “that can’t be anything but hectic. So what do they got you doing? Dealer? That’s exciting.” 

“No, er, no, just... cleaning,” you stammer. 

“Right, yes, I forgot. You said before. I’m sure people make a mess there too,” she scrunches her nose, “so, what do you feel like for dinner? We’ve been waiting on you. Tacos? Spaghetti?” 

“Oh, I’m not very hungry,” you say, “sorry, but I’ll help you cook.” 

“You should eat, honey,” she insists. 

“I now, it’s just...” you look up at the ceiling and think. You scour your mind for your brief recollection of the casino, “they have a buffet at work. Employees eat free and... I got carried away.” 

“Ah, lucky. Wish my work had a buffet,” she trills, “guess I should just be thankful for the health insurance.” 

“Mm, yeah,” you try to smile, “so, I can help cook--” 

“No, no, you just had your first day. You just relax. I’ll leave a bit extra for you, just in case,” she squeezes your shoulder then caresses your arm gently, “I hope you know how proud I am of you.” 

“Oh yeah,” Roxie blusters as she appears behind you, “because scrubbing toilets is so amazing.” 

She shoulders past and your mom moves out of her path. You frown and your mom gives her a sardonic look, “hey, I’m proud of you too. I’ve told you that.” 

“Why? I hand out flyers to desperate men looking for one-night stands?” 

“Don’t say it like that,” your mom rebukes. 

“Well, it’s the truth,” she snickers, “half the night, I don’t even hand out the things. I just hang out by the hot dog seller. He gives me free food.” Roxie looks at your archly, “see, not the only one with perks.” 

“Mm, I like hot dogs,” you say, “um, I’m gonna... lay down.” 

“Sure thing, honey, let me know if you need anything. Oh, chamomile? I could put the kettle on.” 

“No, no, it’s okay,” you assure her as you back up. “Promise I’m fine. I, er... tomorrow, I start in the afternoon so I’m gonna sleep in.” 

“Oo, that will be nice. But be careful, if you’re working late, I’m sure there’ll be some unruly people hangin’ around,” her forehead lines with concern, “I’ll give you some extra money for a cab. I don’t want you on the bus that late.” 

“Oh, alright,” you agree, just wanting to hide. You don’t like lying and with each word, it’s harder to hold yourself together. You don’t think you can do this. “Thanks.” 

“Course, hon, whatever you need.” 

You retreat to your room. You sit on the bed and stare at the wall. It’s not just today, but tomorrow, and the next day. How long until Bucky moves on to the next thing? You googled him, you’re not that naive. At least you don’t think you are.  

It feels rotten. You don’t like not telling your mom the truth. You tell her everything. She’s the one person who listened to you. Well, until Bucky. You can feel his gaze just thinking of it. How intent he is on every word, how he focuses on your lips as they outline every syllable.  

You’re an adult. It’s not a lie. It’s a secret. And you don’t have a lot of options. It’s about time you help out and Burger King isn’t calling you back to scrape grills. 

No matter how many times you justify it, it still feels wrong. Even if the way Bucky looks at you makes you all wiggly inside, it’s still lying. Even if you really need the money, it doesn’t change what you’re doing. And you are doing it. You have to.  

You don’t want to see another red notice in the mailbox, you don’t want to hear your mom crying through the wall. You want to be able to give her a day off, more than that. She’s taken care of you for so long, this is just what you need to do to take care of her. 

That’s what you’ll keep telling yourself. 

You get up and go to the dresser and take the bag from behind it. You slide out a book and lay down with it. That’s how you cope. You read, you go to a world that doesn’t exist, just until you’re forced back to reality.  

You shiver at what awaits you at the end of the first chapter. You know what Bucky expects and you know he won’t forget. The thought of the pajamas, the little top and the tiny shorts... 

Don’t think of it. Open the book. Things will be normal for just a little longer. 

[eldritch-spouse]

https://www.tumblr.com/eldritch-spouse/716340172228296704/you-know-what-would-be-fun-if-we-met-one-or-more

okay. so. this post has been haunting me (affectionate) and i keep thinking about what if this was a very well behaved pet, but it just got boring to rinx? likely now with abandonment issues and severe seperation anxiety.

mervin’s pet nearly throwing themselves off the couch when he comes home and he can see them trying so hard to call themselves down when they speedwalk up to him and fiddle with their hands so they don’t just hug him without permission. mervin’s pet wanting to be near him while he sits and watches something with his idiotic siblings (he cares about them sm your honor) so they sit down at his feet and lay their head against his legs… asks to hold his hands and is just soo sweet to him… i’m down horrendous i fear

- 🎃 anon

[Pfft-]

You might be hesitant to reveal your past with the King of Greed, and perhaps that's for the best, but all three demons can understand something happened during your stay in Hell.

Mervin, as your self-proclaimed savior/guide/caretaker, is certain that you're just incredibly grateful to him, as you should be! Of course you'd strive to please him, of course you wait on him hand and foot, he saved you. You owe Mervin your life! He's absolutely glowing with happiness from every desperate little gesture you make.

Both Ludwig and Obie kind of stare at each other silently, understanding that the trauma you've endured is very visibly manifesting in ways that could be detrimental to you. Buuut, at the end of the day, they're still demons, and they're willing to turn a blind eye to the obvious if it means their brother is satisfied. You're not a threat, and having someone in your life like Mervin -who loves to be adored and entertained- might balance things out? Eh.

They can't lie, having you around is great. Not only are you a new face to talk to, you keep Merv in good moods, thus preventing arguments and consistent nagging.

Unlike Rinx, you have Mervin's attention fairly often, it'll become clear he doesn't plan to discard you. The only thing you have to deal with is inconsistent work schedules and him coming home in "work mode", cold and distant until the prideful demon snaps out of it. Less eccentric, less loud, capable of gentle care and hushed affections, Mervin is in all fields an upgrade to someone as unstable as Rinx. Likewise, he's on cloud nine as well.

Just the high of someone begging to hug him as soon as he comes home is insanely gratifying.

Mervin always thought he'd have to teach his partner to love him, but you landed in his hands perfect!

[thewandererh]

💜💙❤️finally designing some jashlings for myself…after a full year of knowing chonny…

⚠️TW // GOREY CONCEPTS, BLOOD, NOOSE/RED ROPE IMAGERY, DESCRIPTIONS OF AGONY

i have pages of designs for the three that i doodled in my school sketchbook, and honestly i can’t pick one so i’m using ✨all of them✨. switching em out yknow?? maybe i accidentally created a bunch of aus instead of characters(??) because they all have loops that happen in different ways, or maybe they *are* the same but in different loops—the chonny paradox. anyways uhm some fellas to mention: nerd mind, merve (<3), deltarune soul, roe, toy-style soul, tadc mind (half an accident), a rabid heart, simon mind, an awesome enby soul…heart with heart-eye glasses but then disruptivevoid reblogged someone’s cute render of the same idea— (honestly, lmao)

the gangs all here !!

but anyways I want to show off one design of soul in particular that has become an extremely fast favorite between me and my fellow rain-jash friend Sluggx!! it’s kinda gorey so i don’t know how to censor it :[, but the image is small so scroll past if the warnings above irk you. but uh. say hi to Dyadracide—a word i coined that means “to kill the duo”

me and my friend sluggx are going FERAL for him,,

ft roe and corona 🔱👑☀️

had the idea of designing a buttload of minds a bit ago, then recently this week i decided the same for soul. doodled him at school, then showed him to my friend via whiteboardfox :]. i draw Dyadra semi different now than there, but all his design is the same. rope neck that coils up inside his body when not in use, oversized pointy teeth (went monochromatik style with human teeth originally but nah), frizzly uhkempt hair, and a trident through his head. he’s always bleeding from the roof of his mouth, whether the trident is retracted into his skull or not. i love him so much😭💛. he has a full body and even a cute little gut but that’s kept for later for now. consider this a teaser of my inner workings :monk_devious:

ive been drawing him *SOOo* muchhh aaugha…can’t wait to show you when i can :]. building a batch of art for a tumblr post that i’ll dump later today maybe. get ready for some fun and gore galore~ (its not too gorey, just the trident-through-head-hes-always-choking-on-his-own-blood concept in full force. yummy ideas have to be explored huhu)

and off i go to have a late brunch. i always write these when i have something else to do lmao. *bites into omelette*

[deancasbigbang]

Title: The Things We Leave behind

Author: Briston

Artist: Merv (fruitmixtape)

Rating: Mature

Pairings: Dean/Cas

Length: 52000

Warnings: minor character death, discussion of historical child abuse, substance use disorder.

Tags: Alternate Universe, Angst with a Happy Ending, Established Castiel/Dean Winchester, Divorce Arc, Bad Parent John Winchester, Alcohol Abuse, Rehab, Discussion of Cheating, Alcoholic Dean Winchester, Recovering Alcoholic Dean Winchester

Posting Date: October 31, 2023

Summary: Cas has been getting progressively worried about Dean’s drinking for a while but mentioning it only causes tension in their marriage. The sudden death of Dean’s father brings everything to the breaking point. After a particularly bad fight, his husband seeks solace in whiskey and flirty women in the aftermath. When Cas finds out, he decides he’s had his fill, packs his bags, and leaves. Sam lives in California and has built a career as a well respected addictions counselor. When Cas calls to tell him that Dean is missing on a bender and their marriage is likely over, he drops everything to come to Kansas to find his brother. Dean clearly needs help. Sam convinces him to go with him to California and go through a rehab program. Dean only agrees because Cas refuses to have anything to do with him unless he stops drinking permanently. If he can't, their marriage is finished. Along the way, Sam and Dean discover that their father left them with more than just painful memories of a traumatic childhood. Their half-brother Adam might be exactly who they need to help pull all the fractured pieces together. Cas is giving Dean one last chance to turn things around. Nothing is easy, but maybe it’s still worth fighting for.

Excerpt: “You know the only difference that would have made was that you would be as miserable as he was.” Cas grabbed both of their toothbrushes and toothpaste from the ensuite bathroom, tossing Dean’s his way. “I could’ve tried harder to get him to quit, go to rehab or something.” The toiletries went in the bag with some deodorant, a flannel, and some denim. He shot Cas a dirty look when he heard him huff in exasperation. “How many times did you ask him to quit? Remember when Sam flew in for an intervention? He’s a professional addictions counselor and the only thing that happened was that Sam flew home with a black eye and a refusal to ever come back.” “That’s just because they’re too much alike and can’t stop themselves from fighting.” Dean was starting to raise his voice. Cas wasn’t having any of it. “No,” he knew he sounded snarky as shit but was so very tired of having the same argument about John Winchester’s parenting skills. “It’s because your father is a narcissistic asshole with undiagnosed mental health issues that he self-medicates with whiskey.” Dean walked around the bed to where Cas was and grabbed his arm. The grip wasn’t rough but it wasn’t gentle either. His green eyes were anguished and pleading.   “Don’t say that, he could be dying right now.” Somewhere deep down Cas knew he should be feeling guilty about just how little empathy he had for John right then. He’d feel more compassion for a complete stranger than he did for the man who had hurt Dean again and again, both as a child and as an adult. He felt a small flash of resentment at having to defend Dean from his own negative thinking. “It was always going to be this way with him, Dean. Every counselor you’ve ever had has told you the same thing for years. You are not responsible for fixing him. Don’t kill yourself trying to be accepted by someone who doesn’t even deserve you.”

DCBB 2023 Posting Schedule

[writing-for-life]

The Self-Love, Sex, and Pursuit of the Helm Novels: A Tragicomedy in Three Movements

Part 1~~By the Sea, I Mean in the Dreaming: A Comedy Prelude, where crack ships find their way into Dream’s Library, and absolutely everyone is left stranded.

People, I’ve done it, and I’m scared. This… erm… short trilogy has been sitting in my drafts for ages, and the unhinged Muhulhu post has finally kicked my arse into editing part 1. So here it is without further ado: fourth-wall-breaking madness, secrets about Merv and Matthew you never wanted to know, and the unholy beginning of that relationship (titles inspired by “The Love, Sex, and Pursuit of Happiness Novels” by Steven Paul Leiva).

Here’s a little excerpt, link to full story on Ao3.

And next when it’s edited: Part 2~~Bully For You (Is it sarcastic, or an expression of praise, or something else entirely? Who will ever know…): An Unhinged Interlude, where the Lord of Dreams loses his bearings (no, not those ones), and even Desire needs a stiff drink.

I am tagging the Muhulhu inception crew, but I will need to start with the founding members of the cult: @so-i-grudgingly-joined-this-site for indulging my silly ask that kicked this whole thing off, @marlowe-zara who also gave us her deep psychological insight from the get-go and @roguelov who created the first bit of fanart for this monster (and said fanart gets hinted at in the fic—Murphy is desperately trying to figure out which way up to hold that thing to make sense of it. He is a bit slow sometimes).

Further honourable mentions: @tickldpnk8 (whom we have to thank for the HelmLord) , @ginoeh , @rriavian , @4typercent , @windsweptinred , @throwingbread , @tryan-a-bex (for the best drabble ever—now you’ll understand what I wrote about the similar premise, and Lucienne indeed needs a raise 🤣), @zzoomacroom

I also dare to tag @safeuphigh because you know my more serious stuff, and this is definitely not that, and a writer who takes herself too seriously is not a serious writer. Or something like that 🤣

And @rey-jake-therapist because you always get tagged, and just because I can 😜

New weirdos and Muhulhu enjoyers are warmly welcome in our midst!

[hovershiplogos]

Concept art from the Zion Archive - The Merovingian (and some Persephone)

Okay, so I'm going to get the rest of the character galleries up tonight, so let's start with Merv. Interesting to note that Persephone was always part of the picture here. I personally would've liked to see her in the green dress from image 3, but that's just me!

[secondjulia]

BREAKING: Historical Research Reveals Previously Unknown Giant Communal Bed in the Dreaming

I'd like to state for the record — after reading this BBC article, "The Lost Ancient Practice of Communal Sleep" (also a supplement to the communal bathing addendum of the Amnesiac Hob universe) — that if one can sleep in the Dreaming, then science confirms that they are definitely all sleeping in one giant bed.

Dream & Lucien & Nuala & the Corinthian & Matthew perched on the headboard with his head under his wing, & Gault, & probably a whole series of be-tentacled nightmares cuddling up between, & Merv & a few leaves from Fiddler's Green sighing in through the window. And sometimes Hob wanders in (especially when the hippogriff, wyvern, and griffin who are supposed to be guarding the palace are having a little nap, also in the giant bed). Sometimes the palace residents give him a strange little look, as they do whenever dreamers wander too deep into the heart of the Dreaming, but Hob just saunters over sleepily & climbs into this perfectly normal cluster of sleeping strangers.

(After this happens several times, they might subtly leave a little space beside the King of Dreams when they see Hob approaching, because Dream's always in such a better mood after he's cuddled up with his human!)