#eventually I'll remember what tags I've used

[winter-spark]

In honor of the next event looking like it gonna be Citron & Tsumugi should I just post some draft scenes of them interacting I wrote for my Arranged Marriage Au fic?

Idk how accurate they are and I haven't gotten to them in my rewrite yet but it might be fun to rewrite them after the event so I have more to work with.

I mean I wrote a lot(? Several?) of the Tsumugi & Tasuku interacting w/ Itaru scenes before the Same Age group event happened then I had more to work with after.(I initally based their interactions off One Day Princess because when I started the fic I had just read that one) while for Tsumugi & Tasuku (mostly Tasuku) w/ Citron I only have a couple of rehersal conversations.(I don't even remember which of the couple from this year really sold me on needing Tasuku & Citron to interact more but it's inspired my writing & if this fic wasn't CitoIta then mayhaps...🤭(says I knowing most of their interactions are off camera in this fic as its Itaru pov))

I also have that (was it two part?) comic in my head where they have an interaction w/ Citron & Tasuku's like "you understand him?" & Tsumugi's like "of course!" [& then they have an interaction wt Tetsuro & Tsumugi's like "you understand him?"] and it's somewhat used as reference but moreso just a bit for vibes.

Anyway. Point here was maybe I should post my uneditted scenes of them interacting (they don't have a lot but they have a couple, there's one I think is pretty fun tbh, fave scene of those two in my fic) then I can properly edit them after the event because I'll have a better idea of how they interact in canon. It can be a before and after type thing. They currently just interact based on my interpretation of their character vibes.

[bunny-jpeg]

Hello, could I get maple taffy, boston cream, pie, mango sorbet with a side of mocha coffe, champagne, margarita, tonic water and naked & famous with Fernando please. (and some baby trapping to top it off)

bakery menu

thank you for submitting to the bakery! it's been nice to get back into working on these again. this has been a lot of fun! the prompts were lovely and so was the driver (fernando alonso my beloved) - so i hope you love, love, love this.

maple taffy: "oh my god you're stupid." + boston cream pie: "yeah, i'll use protection." + mango sorbet: "you are by far the dumbest thing i've ever fucked. how did they even let you graduate?" + mocha coffee: breeding kink + champagne: sugar daddy situation + margarita: unprotected sex + tonic water: age gap + naked & famous: bimbo/ditzy!reader served by fernando alonso

tags: smut/pwp, age gaps (20s/40s), sugar daddy au, breeding kink & baby trapping, pregnancy, ditzy!reader, unprotected sex, doggy style, lying & manipulation, possessive behavior, spanking, daddy kink

"daddy!" you chirped as you stood there in the doorway of the living room. you crossed your arms and pouted, "what is this?" then swayed your hips from side to side to show off the dress that he bought you. you had put it on to put a little fashion show for your sugar daddy, but why was this outfit covering so much!

fernando looked up from his newspaper and looked to you, "i don't see a problem, my love." and watched you pout further. the dress had short sleeves and buttons that went up to your collarbones. the skirt of the dress was more full and it stopped at the knee. covered up a hell of a lot more than the other more suggestive outfits you normally wore.

you furrowed your brow, "i look like someone's mom!"

he raised his brows at you and put the paper to the side. he got up and approached you. he liked how you looked, he said, "well, you said you didn't want to be my sugar baby, but my wife... i thought you should look the part."

eventually you ended up in his lap in the bedroom, you were still in the dress. the pastel yellow looked beautiful as his strong hands groped your chest. he licked his lips in anticipation. your breasts felt full in his hands and he purred, "look at you, beautiful." he knew he was going to give you a shiny diamond.

but he hoped to give you a baby first. not that you knew that, you were dutiful with playing it safe. but fernando wasn't getting any younger and worried he might not be able to perform his biological task and get you pregnant. so it was better to start earlier rather than later.

his hands soon went up the skirt of your dress. you looked good, much better than those slutty outfits that you usually wore. if you were going to be a mother, you were going to have some respect. your goods weren't were sale because fernando was the highest bidder. he gripped onto your ass and pressed you further against him. he growled in a low sexual tone, "you are by far the dumbest thing i've ever fucked. how did they even let you graduate?"

you pouted, remembering that you gave up university to play house with fernando in spain. it was hard hearing how much he missed you, so you left. you said, "daddy, remember. i didn't graduate." and fernando slapped your ass.

"i know, i know. better in my house then in lecture." he said lowly as he rubbed himself up against you. the roughness of your jeans hitting against your clothed pussy. he slapped your ass again and said, "hands better on my cock than typing essays. but you know that, this was what you were meant for."

you felt excitement race through you as you said, "will you use protection, daddy?" you pouted at him as you held his face. your core was soaked from him. he had that effect on you. but, you weren't going to be swayed easily.

dumb little thing, he thought. you thought you had any ounce of power in this situation. fernando fucked you, cared for you, provided for you. the least you could do was get pregnant. his hands rested on your lips and he licked his lips at the sight of you rubbing up against him. he replied, "yeah, i'll use protection. of course, my love." he said as he rubbed up against you once more and you felt the excitement through you.

you smiled a little bit and kissed him on the lips, you giggled a little and said, "thank you, daddy." and yelped when fernando gave you another slap on the ass.

you were soon in the bedroom and as you stripped, fernando knew he was going to fuck you raw. and the fact you trusted him so much was cute. oh my god you're stupid, was all he could think of when you even hung up the dress so it wouldn't get wrinkled. he eyed your behind and felt something hungry in his core. you were already acting like a wife and mother - how cute.

fernando took you by the hips once you had the dress off the floor and guided you towards the bed. you were laid out beautifully in a matching pair of undergarments. his rough hands played with your body and he felt the hunger grow.

he reached for your panties while you reached for your bra. you were soon undressed for him and you worked the buttons of his white shirt. his hands rested on your sides for a moment and he felt something stir inside of you. you'd look so cute with a baby at your hips, fernando's baby. his clothes were removed and you eyed him up and down.

"look at you." he said, "someone's hungry for me. get on your stomach, i want to feel you deeper." it was also a way for you to not see him fucking you raw. you wouldn't be able to tell the difference, but for fernando it would mean the world.

you got onto your stomach and bent your knees. he admired your beauty for a moment. you were going to be a perfect mother for his child, fernando knew what you needed better than he did. no need to worry about much else, not while he sank his cock into you.

he knew his friends would think he was a perverted old man for getting his sugar baby knocked up. but fernando believed that they were just jealous. especially when you had a pussy that just pulled him in. he moved up against you, making sure that every inch was inside of you.

"did you.. did you put on a condom?" you asked meekly, your face in the covers.

fernando pressed your head further into the soft pillows and said, "yes i did, my love. everything's all secure." this was the biggest lie he could ever tell. but you were just so stupid that you trusted him blindly. fernando liked that, it was important for a wife to trust her husband.

you whimpered a little bit and arched your back at the feeling. you held onto the covers and moaned, it was hot. your face looked pretty in the pillows, even that pastel pink decorative photo that always stayed on the bed. fernando held onto your hips and moved against you, his cock nudged against all the right places and it made your noises sound sweet.

with a cunt like this you'll be spending the rest of your twenties pregnant if fernando had his way. can't just have one child, no, no, he hoped for at least three. enough to keep the future mrs. fernando alonso busy. two boys and a girl was what he hoped for.

his pace quickened, near brutal as the two of you fucked against one another. he loved feeling you. your soft hips in his grasp, his cock buried inside of you. he worked your needy sexy with heavy thrusts, he could feel the fire in his core as he worked himself against you. you were irresistible.

"my love." he said, "you feel better and better every time i fuck you. i wonder if your pretty pussy could only take me now." he held onto you tighter and worked harder against you. you moaned a little louder and it was music to his ears.

you moaned loudly and clutched onto the covers. your back arched as he hit right up against you. it was erotic, it was like his tip was hitting against your cervix perfectly. your eyes rolled back a little and you felt the excitement in your core. it was hard not to e aroused by fernando, your daddy. you said out of breath, "please, daddy. it feels so good." you were near stupid (as if you weren't already) from fernando's feverish fucking.

"my love." he said, "you're so perfect for me. you take me so well. like you were made for me. spent a lifetime trying to find the perfect cunt to sink into every night and it was you." fernando wanted you all to himself, he wanted you every night he could have you. and once you got pregnant he'd have to be a little creative with the positions, but he'd make sure that you both felt good. he didn't want you to think he thought you were unattractive, you'd only grow more beautiful as your pregnancy progressed. and fernando would show you that.

his pace started to stagger and the pleasure grew in your core. there was a certain pleasure in you. the two of you fucked feverishly, you were more eager because you believed that fernando was being safe. not that his bare cock was plunged inside of you. invading your space.

"I'm close." you choked out as he moved against your body. pressed together, fitting perfectly. you clenched around him and gasped into the covers as you came around his cock. your eyes closed for a moment as you moaned.

fernando was spurred on from your orgasm to finish as well. he pressed his chest against your back and fucked you feverishly. the pleasure was lightning hot and you felt it curl in your gut. your toes curled from the over stimulation. he kissed your back and shuddered as orgasm neared. the pleasure coursed through as he thrusted against you. a few more thrusts and he finished inside of you.

you felt your heart flutter as he came inside of you. you were blissfully unaware of how much cum he was putting inside of you. you thought you were being safe, but in your blissed out state. you couldn't have cared less. you felt warmth in your body as he eventually pulled out and laid beside you on the bed.

his hand was on your middle, he felt the soft skin and kissed your neck. he wondered if he could get you anymore dresses, but have them for maternity wear.

-

"there's my wife." fernando said as you brought you drinks for fernando and his friends while they played cards. he got up from his seat at the outdoor table and took you by the waist to guide you towards the table.

he also could tell that his long time friends were eyeing your sweet middle. took a little while and a bit of lying, but you ended up carrying fernando's baby. you two were having a baby boy together and he couldn't be happier.

you were a perfect wife for him and as he placed a hand on your middle. he knew you'd be a perfect mother. didn't need a degree when you had a husband <3

[mmmilkweed]

I know I've written a lot today, but I hope you can forgive another long walk of text, feel free to mute the #milkweed rants tag!

I just wanted to write this somewhere. No particular reason other that I'm, yet again, a bit drunk

It's an uncomfortable thought that I can still be jealous of the woman I'm married to. What a great start innit haha anyway. The discord has been a handful - but oh, it's so fun. So many funny individuals. I digress-

It takes me right back to when I meet her. I was in a horrible state. Mute and tired and angry at the world. And she was as radiant as she is now - a social butterfly in a field of flowers. She's amazing now too. Perfect conversationalist, she just keeps it going without much effort. She's fearless.

I don't know how she does it. She didn't even know my favorite artist, who joined my server, and yet she struck up a conversation as easy as buttering toast. Spoke to them so freely -.. I don't think I could ever justify my jealousy. That split moment of resentment eats at me

I remember the first days of knowing her, but not speaking to her, with mixed emotions. Back then I was angry, I was jealous. I sat in calls silent because I was mute. She was the only one who read them. No one else bothered to. Only her. Somehow the group call ended with only us two left. I was "working" as an artist for the server we both found eachother in - so I streamed my screen, and my drawings. And I began writing. And our 'conversations' went on for hours

I still don't know what she saw in me. I was an angry, annoying, mute kid in the back of the class doodling old men with swords. And somehow this chatterbox saw me and decided 'yup. That one's mine.' and never let go. Ppft I remember lying about my age so I could seem cooler to her. Dw, I was 18 at the time. I just thought 'hey... Shed probably be more comfortable with an 19 year old..' what a transgression, I know. I'm rambling. I'm sorry, I like thinking about us. How the world turned out its pockets for us to meet

And yet I'm still jealous

I'll never truly escape myself - I'm reclusive, I hate talking, I can hardly keep a conversation afloat, I slur my words because I spoke so little growing up, it's so hard to understand me and my accent - eugh. - overall I feel like such a failure when it comes to fitting in. I, if course, ignore the feeling. But. It's still there. In the back. And when this jealousy arose I felt it hit me full send - my insecurities, manifested. My chances, slipping past my fingers because I can't speak up, because I'm still just that kid that had to choke out a 'yes' or a 'no'.

I'm over it, right now, of course. My jealousy subsided when I analyzed where it was coming from. But man, does it still eats me up. It was a rough morning. I should apologize properly.

Gonna delete this eventually

[frickingnerd]

a place to stay for the night

pairing: percy jackson x gn!mortal!reader

summary: it's been years since you've seen percy last. but on a rainy night, he shows up injured at your door and you decide to nurse your childhood friend back to health

tags: tending to percy's wounds, wholesome fluff, childhood best friends, mortal!reader, passed out!percy, romantic/platonic

you hadn't seen percy in years. in all that time, you had almost forgotten what he looked like. and when you finally saw him again, you barely recognized the boy. he stood in front of your door, soaked in rain and blood and collapsed into your arms as soon as you opened the door.

trying to remain calm, you dragged percy inside your apartment and towards the couch. luckily, he was still breathing and just passed out, but you didn't know what to do with him. it had been years since you last saw and you hadn't imagined your reunion to go like this…

you made your way into the bathroom, grabbing a few towels and anything that you could use for first aid. calling an ambulance might've been better, but you feared that percy hadn't shown up here if he could've simply called an ambulance. he seemed to be in trouble and he must've thought you were the only one he could go to for help.

as you returned to the living room, percy had opened his eyes again, his eyelids fluttering, as he adjusted to the light around him.

“you're awake–!”

you dropped everything you had onto the living room table and crouched down next to percy, who was slowly sitting up straight.

“i-i'm sorry… for scaring you like this…” percy mumbled, his voice low and fragile. “i didn't know where else to go. and i thought, maybe after all those years, you might still live here…”

you couldn't help but smile a little. percy had still remembered where you lived. even after all that time, he seemed like he hadn't forgotten about you. just like you never quite forgot about him.

“percy…” your smile faded slowly as you raised your hand and touched his face, wiping away some blood that was beginning to dry. “who did this to you? was it… what was his name?”

percy chuckled softly.

“gabe? no, he– he's not around anymore. i've got bigger problems nowadays…”

percy smiled as he said that, but those words only made you worry more. bigger problems than gabe? if those wounds weren't from percy's abusive stepfather, then where in the world did he get them?

“hey, don't worry…” percy gently lifted your chin, his thumb gently touching the corner of your lip. “i– i know this looks bad, but i'll be fine! i've been through worse already and–”

“percy, saying that doesn't make me worry less–!”

you gently pushed away the boy's hand and glared at him. but he just chuckled softly, even though laughing made his wounds ache.

“i'm sorry…. i promise you, i'll explain everything to you. just–” percy paused for a moment. “i just need a place to stay. just for a night or two and then i'll be gone again”

you hesitated. sure, you couldn't kick percy out when he was in such a bad state. but it seemed like he was in really big trouble. trouble you might get dragged into, if he stuck around too long.

“fine…” you eventually gave in. “but you have to promise to tell me what happened to you!”

you reached out your pinky to percy, looking the boy deep in the eyes.

“and you have to promise me that you'll visit me again, without needing me for first aid!”

percy chuckled and locked his pinky with yours, leaning a little closer, as he held eye contact.

“i promise!”

[mendessi]

things i say when you sleep | chapter seven

multi chapter bodhi durran x fem!oc

word count: 4.9k

chapter summary: Manifesting a signet has the potential to be a deadly thing.

tags: slow burn, friends to enemies to lovers, canon typical violence, mentions of death, she falls first he falls harder, majority canon compliant, some canon deviance, eventual smut, angst with a happy ending, additional tags to be added

AO3 masterlist

five | six | seven | eight | nine

My teeth chatter as ice-cold water washes over me. 

I'm shivering as Bodhi tugs my tunic over my head. He adjusts the lever so that the water turns colder and I shake my head desperately. I'm convinced I'll get hypothermia if I spend another second under this water. Despite how I'm trembling, the power burns white hot in my chest and Bodhi winces as he touches my skin. 

"You're going to be okay, Ani," He whispers over and over like a prayer, "I'm right here. I'm here." 

Whether he's saying it for me or himself, I'm not sure. 

"Focus Ania," Gleigeal says, "You must control what you are feeling. Mold it. Do not let it mold you."

A whimper leaves my lips as I wrap my arms around myself and I scratch at my skin, unable to grasp the ambivalence. I am cold and shivering furiously while heat claws at the inside of my chest. My skin feels like it's on fire.  

His hands shake as he reaches for my cheeks and forces me to look at him, "You have to ground, Ani. Please. Please ground."

I've learned grounding, or a form of it at least. It's hard when I've never had the sheer weight of this much power at my fingertips before. I'd built a distorted version of the Riorson House library into my mind, though I never had the time to perfect it. I had a hard time remembering it clearly but it had always been my safe space as a child. 

"Where is it? Ani, where do you ground?" He asks and I can feel the fear radiating off of him, seeping into my chest like it belongs there, becoming my own. 

"T-t-the library. R-R-Riorson Ho-use," My teeth chatter uncontrollably, my hands shaking as the mage lights in the bathing chamber continue to flicker. "I n-never finished." 

His eyes study my face as he tries to understand what I'm saying. "You don't remember what it looks like?" 

I nod my head as much as I can with how much my body trembles and he takes a deep breath as he continues to brush my wet hair from my face. My tears run in hot streams down my cheeks as I reach my shaking hands towards him. 

"I'm trying to counter it but I don't know what it is, Ani. " His voice wobbles and I've never heard him so unsure of himself. "I'm trying. You're going to be okay, I'm right here." 

He presses the back of his hand to my forehead as I close my eyes and imagine myself sitting at a table in the library. 

I place the bricks one by one, to the best of my ability as I see the crimson tendrils of Gleigeal's power creeping in from one of the large ceiling-high windows. The sunlight peeks in through the curtains and I walk slowly to it as the bricks behind me continue clicking into place. The power streams in quickly in obstreperous bursts and when I reach out to touch them they burn my hand.

I opt for the curtains instead and use lesser magic to yank them shut. The power thins to a single stream, a handful of tendrils dancing around each other through the small crack of the curtains.

When I open my eyes again, Bodhi's forehead is pressed against mine as he breathes heavily. The bathing chamber is pitch black, the only light illuminating his face coming from in between us. 

"Bodhi?" I rasp. My throat feels raw. 

"Hey, you're okay," He says, gently. "Look." 

His clothes are soaking wet, his dark curls stuck against his forehead. He tenderly grabs my wrist and looks where our hands rest between our bodies. Light gleams off the tips of my fingers and my lips part at the sight. 

"Light bends at your will, Ania," Gleigeal's voice is quiet in my head like he knows it is still throbbing. 

I slowly wiggle each of my fingers watching as the light bends with each movement, like it's stuck to my skin. 

"Shut it off," Bodhi whispers. His hands are back in my hair, brushing the wet strands from my face. 

The curtains are still barely drawn when I close my eyes again and I reach for them, pulling them completely closed. The light has faded and my hands are completely back to normal. 

Bodhi's hands are feeling my face once again and I suddenly feel like I'm suffocating. "You're cooling down." 

My lips quiver as I clench my jaw to keep my teeth from chattering, "I'm cold." 

"Just a couple more minutes," He promises. 

His forehead falls against mine again and it's too dark to see his face. If the shower wasn't running, he could hear the way my breath stutters. I reach my hands up to his cheeks and pull his face back slightly so that the tips of our noses touch. The light returns to my fingertips in a dim glow against his cheeks and I can see his eyes scan my face as I brush my thumb lightly against his wet skin. Tiny streams of water fall off the tips of his hair and flow down his cheeks, illuminating under my touch. 

I say his name again but it's barely heard over the water hitting the stone around us. Bodhi's hand wraps around the base of my neck, his thumb rubbing a soothing circle into my skin. 

I've never seen him in this light. The soft golden glimmer emitting off my fingertips paints him beautifully and in the moment I've never seen someone so mesmerizing. The worry is gone from his eyes replaced with something that I can't put my finger on. I tug his face towards mine again, the longing feeling replacing everything else I feel in my chest. 

If he'd let me, I'd kiss him.

He reaches up and turns the water off and then slowly helps me to my feet. Before he reaches for a towel, his fingers brush against the fresh scratches against my shoulders that I put on myself and I tense up. 

"Sorry," He quietly wraps the towel around my shoulders and tucks me into his side. The warmth of him finally makes my teeth stop rattling as he walks me back to my room. 

As we pass under each mage light, I take note of how they shine brighter for a moment before returning to normal. I unlock the door and we both step inside. 

Every inch of my skin feels like it has just been on fire, but the pain is slowly subsiding now that my body is returning to a normal temperature. 

"I am thankful the XO was there to aid you," Gleigeal says and I don't reply, but I'm sure he can feel my agreement down the bond. "Though I will note, you would have faired on your own too." 

Bodhi turns around while I change into the loosest clothes I have. I don't want to feel anything touching my skin with how sensitive it is.

"Will you be okay?" Bodhi asks, facing me once I'm fully dressed. 

"Yes," I reply. I don't know how I'm supposed to act after he's just seen me at my most vulnerable. Things could have turned out differently if my power had backlashed. I was on the brink of killing both of us if I didn't get it under control. 

"Do you promise?" He runs a hand through his wet hair. 

"Why did you risk staying by my side?" I ask him as I dry my hair with the towel, "I could've killed you." 

"If I wasn't there, you would've killed yourself." He argues. 

"I am positive you would have lived," I hear Gleigeal say.

"I was scared, Ani," He admits in a whisper, "It happened after I told you about... everything happening outside the wards. I didn't want to be the reason that you-"

The words fall short on his lips and I fold my hands in front of me as I look down at the ground. "It wasn't your fault." 

Answers have been placed in front of me for years and I never paid enough attention to piece them together. I look up at him when he doesn't say anything. 

My heart rate is slowly rising when I look up at him. Gods, he really is beautiful. 

That childish crush from when I was a teenager doesn't feel so silly now when I look at him standing in my room. He looks so out of place but also just where he belongs. The wet clothes stick tightly to his body and I have to stop myself from staring. My eyes linger on his hands, the ones that had just been holding my cheeks and brushing my hair from my face despite my skin being so hot to the touch that he had to fight the urge to pull away. My gaze finds its way back to his eyes and I'm reminded of the panic that saturated them as he whispered things to himself that he didn't think I would hear. 

My chest tightens at the realization and I feel nauseous all of a sudden. 

"You should go to bed," I say to him. "Squad Battles prep continues tomorrow and it'll be busy."

"I'll stay," He says and he moves like he's going to take a step towards me, but I hold my hand up. 

"No, I'd rather you didn't," I stand up and make my way to the door, pulling it open. I step to the side to give him space to leave. "Please, Bodhi." 

"You are being harsh, Ania," Gleigeal says and I fight to ignore him. "But I do not blame you for wanting space." 

He nods and stops in front of me, he reaches his hand up to my cheek but stops himself short. I almost lean into the touch that's not there. I find myself longing for it. 

This is not something I can do. Not with him. 

"Good night," He says quietly as he walks out, leaving a trail of water behind him. 

Xaden is at my door the next morning and I hesitate before letting him in.

"Bodhi told you then?" I ask as I shut the door behind him. I feel much better this morning after spending the entire night perfecting the Riorson House library to a T. Or as close to it as I can get with the distant memory still a bit foggy. 

"You scared him shitless," He asks as he leans against my desk. "Do you know if Gleigeal had previously bonded someone from your family line?"

"What do you want me to say?" I ask down my bond. 

"The cousins are trustworthy. Tell him the truth if you see fit," Gleigeal replies. 

"He was my grandmother's," I cross my arms. 

I thought Bodhi looked out of place in my room, but seeing Xaden in here was something entirely different. 

"Sgayel hinted at it, but I wanted to be sure," He says, "Your signet is unique and if you hone it, can grow to be extremely powerful. But there's something you should know."

"It seems kind of useless to me," I reply as I gather my things for the day. 

"That's because you haven't learned how to use it in a way that is beneficial to you," He says standing up straight. "Carr will help you, but you have to be cautious with him." 

"What do I need to know?" I sling my rucksack over my shoulder. 

"When you bond a direct relative's dragon, one of two things can happen," He's picking his words carefully which concerns me considering the man hardly has a filter. I remember the night in the woods when he had told a scared first-year to stop wasting his time. 

"Madness is one of them, isn't it?" I remember vaguely reading something of the sort. 

"Or you manifest a second signet," He says and my heart skips a beat. I don't want to ever experience manifesting a signet again, especially after last night. 

"That's not possible," I furrow my brows. "Who told you that?" 

"Bonding a relative's dragon will usually manifest an extremely powerful signet," He releases shadows from his hands, "And an even more powerful second one." 

"You have a second signet," I whisper. "I don't want a second signet." 

"Then you can go mad," He shrugs. "Ania, you have to be careful from this point out. You, under any circumstances, cannot manifest your second signet in front of anyone. Unless it's Bodhi or me." 

"What if I'm in class? Carr's class specifically?" I ask, slightly anxious as I absorb this new information. 

"You get the hell out of there and you find somewhere to do it. Quietly." He replies. "If you can, find Bodhi or me." 

"Are you sure you aren't too preoccupied with Violet to be concerned about me?" I cross my arms. That was a little defensive. 

"Don't make this hard, Ania." He says and I follow him out of my room. "When it manifests, you and Gleigeal will decide if it's safe enough to share with us."

We both stop when we see Rhiannon and Violet exiting her room diagonally from mine. Their eyes land on us, and I almost flinch at how it must look. There's a flash of something behind Violet's eyes, and her jaw clenches before she and Rhiannon turn and head for the rotunda. 

"Dammit," I mutter under my breath. 

"I'll see you in formation, little Alistair, " he says, but I can see how his face hardens after the interaction.

Oh, something absolutely fishy is going on with them.

I keep my signet a secret until the Squad Battle behind the fear that wielding it will trigger the second one into manifesting faster. Or trigger my insanity. However, I'm practically useless when it comes time to break into Violet's mother's office.

I'm nothing but a watchdog while the cool kids who are actually useful get to see the inside of the General's office. I only become of use when they need help to carry the massive map back to the rider's quadrant.

We spend time on the front lines in Montserrat as our prize for winning the Squad Battle and I can't help but feel like I don't deserve to be here. I try to take every second here as a learning lesson. 

The knowledge of knowing that Venin are a real threat to everyone on the Continent has me sick to my stomach while we sit in the briefing room with Violet's sister and a couple of Montserrat riders. Mira is annoyingly badass even though I can feel the hatred coming off of her every time she remembers that there are some of us at this table with a relic. 

Xaden glares my way with a "pay attention" look, but I just can't. Not when I know the truth. This is meant to be some kind of learning exercise but I'm not retaining anything. I can't even find it in me to be entertained while Dain and Xaden go at it. 

My eyes narrow as I watch Xaden and Violet closely and it's crystal clear to me within an instant. Xaden is here because of her. Not because of their dragons. 

A smirk plays at my lips as the information settles into my brain and I want to scream "I knew it!", but I keep it to myself for obvious reasons. 

We're forced to return to campus when the outpost is attacked by Gryphons.

Though now that I'm replaying the events in my head, I'm not sure it was Gryphons. What if it was venin? 

The first battle of War Games comes quicker than I'd like it to and now that I know what I do, I've become overly aware of how redacted the Battle Briefs are getting. Devera chooses her words very carefully, but I know what she means to say. At least by this time, I've begun practicing a little with Carr. 

It was hard to lie and pretend I hadn't manifested when the majority of our class had. I was just thankful to keep it hidden until we came back from Montserrat because our having to flee was the wake-up call I needed. If I could at least figure out one way to use this signet productively then maybe I wouldn't be completely defenseless. 

I practice in the mornings and at night when I'm alone in my room but so far all I can do is turn the light on and off and it's only contained to my hands. I'm no better use than a fucking mage light. 

"You will perfect your signet over time," Gleigeal scolds me, "I will not listen to you berate yourself over this again."

"Yes sir," I tease. He reminds me of my father sometimes and it pains me to say so, but it's true. The candor is too similar for my liking, but it's comforting in a way. 

"The Silver One has eyes on the egg. They require our assistance." Gleigeal relays the orders he likely got from Tairn. 

Gleigeal banks and I tighten the muscles in my thighs. My cheeks sting from the cold hail pattering against my skin. My nerves heighten when Tairn and Deigh come into view. It's frustrating that I'll likely be no help in this situation with no control over my signet but a part of me hoped it'd be like how I learned to swim. My dad just threw me into the lake one day and I was forced to figure it out. I doubt this would be similar in any way, but it was nice to think so. 

Liam is in a grapple with Deigh and my stomach sinks as we fly closer. Jack is on Deigh's back and I feel anger surging through my chest. Liam doesn't have enough time to unseat to defend himself.

"Get me closer!" I shout down my bond and Gleigeal begins a dive. I look down seeing my fingertips light in a golden glow. It steadily grows brighter and brighter the more my anger threatens to consume me. 

I hear Violet scream his name and I raise my hands when I see Jack ram his blade through Liam's side. Liam falls from his dragon's back and my heart sinks. The power burns my hands when the light seeps into my palms and I scream as Gleigeal flies past the turret Jack stands on. The energy pulls and pulls until it finally snaps in a blinding light. Jack stumbles back with his hands covering his eyes and I turn back to look at Violet. 

She's too far to catch him and we're already flying upwards. My heart races as she and Tairn dive for him and I'm almost positive he won't make it. I close my eyes expecting to hear Deigh's cry, but it never comes. When I open them, Liam is tucked into Tairn's claw and I sigh a breath of relief. 

"Liam is okay and Deigh lives," Gleigeal says and I tighten my grip on his scales to stop my shaking hands. 

I turn my head when I hear Violet's scream again and flinch when I see the brightest streak of lighting I've ever seen strike the tower. It collapses and Jack falls with it.

I don't find it in my heart to be sorry. 

When we reach the flight field and dismount I make my way toward Tairn. I have to check on Violet. Liam was thankfully being taken care of in the infirmary by now.

"Violet!" I approach her but she glares at me and turns away. When Dain appears, she turns to talk to him but seems completely out of it.

Violet Sorrengail is not someone who would be okay with taking a life. She looks how I felt when I was forced to kill two men during Threshing. She doesn't want to see me now and that's completely understandable. 

I back off and return to Gleigeal making sure he's okay before he launches. He doesn't really care for the celebrations and I don't blame him. I don't care much for it either, I just want to rest. 

Ridoc scoops me up into his arms and I can't help but laugh as he spins me around. "I can't fucking believe we won!" 

When he sets me down, I look around for my other squadmates. Rhiannon is now with Violet and I can't help but feel my stomach twist. Why was it only me she didn't want to talk to?

Bodhi comes into my view and I can't help but admire the way he looks in his flight leathers, his hair tousled from the wind and I want nothing more than to run my fingers through his curls. His eyes meet mine and I look away quickly, doing my best to act like I hadn't just been staring at him. 

My throat tightens when I realize he's approaching me. Ridoc's arm rests over my shoulders but he drops it when he also realizes that Bodhi is coming towards us. 

"Good job, cadets," He nods. 

"Thank you, XO," Ridoc says. Ever since the morning Bodhi had caught us in my room, he'd been so formal towards Bodhi which I couldn't help but laugh at. "Oh, look, there's um- something." 

Ridoc pats my shoulder and then walks over to Sawyer who's talking to a couple of cadets from the Tail Section of our wing. 

"Come on," The corners of his lips tug upwards as he watches Ridoc walk away. He then nods back towards the main campus and we fall in step together.

The sounds of the cheering slowly fade as we get closer to the dorms. "I've barely seen you since..."

"You've been pretty busy. Winning the Squad Battle and all. And now the first battle of War Games," He teases, with his hands folded behind his back.

"Well, I'm hardly an asset." I roll my eyes as we climb the stairs. "Though during the games something happened."

"What?" He asks and opens my bedroom door for me when we reach it. 

The memory replays and I begin trying to dissect it as I kick my boots off. What happened before, during, and after? What were the contributing factors? Emotions?  Outside sources?

"Jack had stabbed Liam and I got so... mad. Or maybe I was scared that we'd lose him. But, my hands did the thing, and the energy kind of pulsed and tugged. The light got brighter and brighter till it snapped," I explain as he sits on the edge of my bed. Gods, those leathers. "I think I blinded him. It gave Violet a second before she manifested lightning."

"That's... brilliant." His lips part and then he smiles. "Really. I think you're gonna do amazing things with it." 

He's being genuine, I can feel it. 

"How have you been otherwise? We haven't really seen each other much." He asks and I don't know if I like the way he's dancing around conversation. Maybe I'm overthinking it. 

"Fine," I shrug as I cross my room to the armoire to take out my sleeping gown. I turn my back to him as I start to undress. Something heats in my chest but I don't know the feeling. I feel his gaze leave my body and I almost sigh. I pull my sleeping gown over my head and then turn around, untying my hair. I comb my fingers through the tangled locks and he finally looks back to me, but his shoulders are tense. 

"Ani," he breathes out as I walk towards him. 

"Yes?" I ask as I step between his legs. 

"Don't do this to me," He pleads. 

"Do what?" I ask, reaching my hands up to cup his cheeks. 

His fingers ghost a trail up the sides of my bare thighs, stopping at the hem of my sleeping gown. 

"Tell me to stop," I whisper, sliding my hands from his jaw to the base of his neck, tangling my fingers in his curls. 

He's silent, but the tips of his fingers trail a centimeter upwards, under the fabric of the gown. 

I remember his forehead pressed against mine in the shower and the way our noses brushed and I want nothing more than to recreate it right now. I'm taking a risk. This could go exactly how I want it to, or he could reject me. I can pinpoint exactly when there was a shift for me when it came to him. My chest aches as I look down at him, fitting myself deeper between his thighs where he sits on my bed. 

I want him.

It's been weeks since I've actually been able to talk to him about anything since he's had me on the mat and I fucking missed him. Lust is the only emotion I feel, seeping in through my fingertips at the base of his neck, through my arms, and into my chest. 

"Ani." It's a warning, for him and me. If we do this, there's no going back. His fingers press into my thighs and I part my lips with a small gasp. 

I rest my forehead against his and close my eyes. I want him to initiate. I need to know he wants this like I do. But I can feel that he does. 

"I can feel it," I whisper, allowing our lips to brush. The feeling is almost all-consuming, taking over my mind, body, and soul. This can't be just me. 

He tugs me closer by my thighs and his grip is so tight, I know that he's fighting an internal battle.

Fine. I'll do it myself. 

I'm ready to close the gap between us, tired of the trepidation when he raises his hand to my face. His thumb brushes against my bottom lip and then he cups my jaw gently. 

"You're gonna be the death of me," He says under his breath.

It's a millisecond before his lips are on mine.

His kiss is soft like he's hesitating. Scared to fully commit. I want more, I know it can be more. 

Stop being scared.

My fingers tangle, a golden glow, in his hair as I pull him closer, deepening the kiss. He doesn't need permission when he glides his tongue into my mouth, my lips are already parted for him. 

He moves back on the bed, pulling me with him. I move my legs to straddle him, pushing him back into the mattress. 

I want her. I want her so fucking bad. 

But I can't. This is wrong. Wrong. Wrong.

I push the thoughts out as I tug his bottom lip between my teeth. 

"Fuck," he mutters breathlessly as one of his hands slides down my waist to the back of my thigh. His other wraps carefully around my throat, pulling my lips back to his like he's starving.

More. More. More.

It's hot and everything I need and I don't mean to but my hips grind against his and he groans into my mouth, his grip tightening ever so slightly against my neck. Anxiety settles in my chest and I do my best to push it away. I don't know where it's coming from but it's not mine. 

"Just kiss me, what are you so fucking scared of?" I finally pull away when it becomes too overbearing. 

It's not my anxiety. Not my fear. It's his. 

He looks up at me with wide eyes. 

"What?" I whisper. "Bodhi, please. You want this. I know you do."

I feel pathetic the way I beg him. But my entire body is swirling with emotions that I can't dictate. I can't tell which ones are mine and which ones may or may not be his. It's overwhelming and I lean down to kiss him again just to ease the sensation but he stops. 

His grip around my throat halts me and my heart stops, "Ani. What are you feeling right now?"

"I want you," I whisper. "But you won't let me. You're holding back."

He pulls my face towards his but only lets our lips brush and I fucking whimper. His eyes darken at the sound I make.

I've never been such a needy mess and the heat that pools in my lower belly makes me feel pitiful. 

He presses his lips to mine again, flipping us over so that he's pressed between my thighs. The weight of him here I haven't felt since the last time we sparred and I missed it. 

My heart pounds as I savor the taste of his lips on mine and I feel it again; the fear and anxiety. I do my best to ease it, focusing on him and how he feels between my thighs where he barely fits. Just be here with me. I'm here. Right where I need to be. 

His tongue dips into my mouth again and I whine at the feeling when his hands slide under my sleeping gown against the skin of my waist. 

Just be here with me. I'm here. Right where I need to be. I push the thought outward.

The anxiety dissolves when he pulls my chest flush with his and I breathe out a sigh of relief in between kissing him. My arms are wrapped tightly around his shoulders when he finally pulls away and I want to groan in frustration. His forehead rests against mine and I'm reminded of the shower again. 

"You're not going to lose me, stop thinking that," I breathe, but I don't know what I'm referring to. He didn't speak it, but I hate the way the idea settles into my bones. He pulls away slightly to look into my eyes and I'm confused by the look in his wide eyes. "What's wrong?"

"You're a fucking empath."

previous | next

tag list: @lynnieluvsu @sherlockstrangewolf @abysshaven @wolfbc97 @paris009

[yanderes-galore]

oooh love to see yandere tag team between Blitzo and Moxie both trying to court imp darling please

hcs if possible and maybe reader can be female (or gn if that makes it easier for u UWU)

I'll try my best! I'll use GN because I've found it easier recently.

Yandere! Blitzø + Moxxie with Imp! Darling

(FT. Enabler! Millie)

Pairing: Romantic - Sharing

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Stalking, Manipulation, Possessive behavior, Polygamy (Moxxie, Millie, Reader, Probably Blitz), Violence, Mature themes, Murder, Kidnapping, Isolation, Dubious relationship(s).

I feel this pairing gets more complicated than I first thought.

Mostly because I feel Moxxie is rather loyal to Millie romantically.

However, one way I can see it working is if Millie encourages it.

Like maybe Millie sees how Moxxie looks at you and suggests making you their third... which enables Moxxie.

That would explain how Moxxie's obsession works.

Then Blitzø is self explanatory... He chases after you because he fears not being loved.

I feel these two would both fight over you... yet later work on helping each other courting you.

You're no doubt a new hire to I.M.P, yet another skilled assassin hired by Blitzø to make jobs more efficient.

Although... Soon your job ends up more complicated than you thought.

You took the job expecting to just be an assassin.

Instead, it seems you're getting pulled into relationship drama involving you.

Blitzø is naturally a mess, especially after Stolas.

When you join, he no doubt finds you attractive.

Which usually ends up with Blitzø flirting crude comments around you, even during missions.

He isn't the romantic type... unlike Moxxie and Millie.

Blitzø is used to intimacy being how you showed love.

He's used to being physical, as that's how his previous relationships went.

Moxxie is different while courting...

With Millie's permission, he tries to plan things out more.

He isn't trying to seduce you.

He wants to give you warm feelings, the fuzzy kind you get from poetic words and songs.

Moxxie likes planning dates and hang outs when not on missions.

He's more romantic and less intense compared to Blitzø.

Not only that, but Millie encourages him and reassures you.

If they want anyone to be their third... It would probably be you.

This originally causes conflict.

Blitzø is upset because Moxxie already has a partner.

Meanwhile, Moxxie accuses Blitzø of just trying to sleep with you.

Although, eventually they come to a deal.

You'll be shared.

Being part of imp polygamy was not what you joined the job for, honestly.

For the most part you avoid it, the feelings your coworkers have for you being one-sided in nature.

Blitzø still tries to be seductive, secretly craving some sort of attention due to no longer being with Stolas.

You often turn him down, which frustrates your boss.

Moxxie and Millie would no doubt try making songs for you or inviting you on outings.

Yet you no doubt can tell it's a subtle way of inviting you on a date.

You often decline, trying to be friends but be firm that you aren't interested in confusing relationships at work.

Of course... That isn't enough for your fellow imps....

Blitzø and Moxxie are the main ones who court you.

Millie lets them and mostly just helps plan things.

Poor you is just trying to do your job...

Only to catch your two coworkers stalking your every move.

They both remember nearly everything about you.

Things such as your coffee order, preferred place to hang out, preferred weapon...

Oh yeah, they keep track.

You have a feeling you know how...

But you never want to press the issue.

Both imps can be quite clingy, too.

Moxxie is naturally affectionate and Blitzø is... well, I think you know why....

Both imps are violent, it's natural since you're all assassins.

I can even see them trying to impress you during jobs.

For example... Who can get rid of the target the fastest?

They try so hard to court you... even to the point of agreeing to share you.

Yet you always decline.

Unfortunately, both of them are quite persistent.

I wouldn't be surprised if they eventually just wear you down.

You may be coerced into a 'beneficial' pairing with them just to keep them happy.

You just have a little fun... it's not really a proper relationship.

But both imps seem to treat it that way... or at least Moxxie does.

You may play along for a little while.

Although, what happens when you cut things off?

Maybe you find someone else to be your partner?

It wouldn't end well.

To them, the little affection and intimacy you gave them meant a lot.

So if you left to pursue something with another demon, both imps are going to follow.

Truth is, while they can share with each other...

They'd never share you with anyone outside of I.M.P.

You should've known better, honestly...

One day, when you least expect it, both imps are going to get rid of your lover.

They don't mind teaming up to get rid of someone they feel is stealing you.

By the time you realize what happened... You already have a sack over your head.

Both of them probably kidnap you and keep you somewhere they can both have access to you.

Once you come to, you're being scolded by them.

Scolded for cheating and being disloyal.

Now the two have decided they're going to keep you away from everyone else, you'll have just them.

Blitzø is the one most irritated about it... while Moxxie is more forgiving despite being hurt.

The two are tired of their love fleeing and avoiding them.

It seems they need to be more strict... This was never a casual fling...

You're going to be theirs, forever, and you aren't leaving until you understand that.

[the-inkwell-variable]

author ask tag

thank you so much for the tag, @the-golden-comet! ooh this is gonna be fun!

i'm going to focus on my current wip, Why Should I Be Careful? I'm Going To Die Anyway! because it's still very much in the planning stages (despite how much I'm writing for it) and I have Thoughts

What is the main lesson of your story? Why did you choose it?

I'll be honest, I haven't really thought that far ahead. I suppose, if there is a lesson to take from WSIBC?IGTDA!, it might be that you should always chase your goals and desires, and screw what other people think. Maybe put a little more thought and planning into yours than Aura does hers, though. I mean, she almost dies due to her recklessness. Don't be like Aura.

What did you use as inspiration for your worldbuilding?

Well, it's a zombie book - I love zombies, in case you can't tell - so the world is an amalgamation of zombie stuff I love. The zombies are based off of the Train to Busan zombies. This is a self-insert mess, so I'm using the town and people I know in the town as location and characters. Little tropes here and there that I love in movies and books alike. It's just a big chimera of stuff that I grab from stuff I remember and shove into it. It definitely needs polish when it's done, but I'm having a blast so far, so I'm'a keep doing it :3

What is your MC trying to achieve, and what are you, the writer, trying to achieve with them? Do you want to inspire others, teach forgiveness, or help the reader grow as a person?

Uhhhhhh this is a tough question. Right now, Aura is trying to make it to Roger's Grocery Mart to save her girlfriend, but most of the time, she's just trying to have a good time in the zombie apocalypse and hopefully not die. She does eventually grow into a character that (mostly) thinks things through and takes other people's situations into account, so I suppose the lesson is "the world doesn't revolve around you - be kind and helpful to others"?

As for what I'm trying to achieve... mostly, to be honest, I just want people to pick up my book and have a good time reading it. I want to write a zombie book because it's my passion and because there aren't enough zombie books out there. I guess I'm trying to inspire others? To show them that you can survive an impossible situation if you work hard and think things through?

How many chapters is your story going to have?

The only time I've written a full-length book (sorry, the only two times, forgot about Zero: ALPHA), it had about twenty-odd chapters. Z:A had...uh...thirty? That was a long time ago and I sadly no longer have that draft. This one is going to go until it's done. Hopefully more than thirty though!

Is it fanfiction or original content? Where do you plan to post it?

Original content! I have no idea where I'm going to post it. I'm torn between Draft2Digital (originally Smashwords) or Substack. Thing is, I'm really bad at marketing and keywords and all that technical stuff that goes into publicizing, so I'm really hesitant to share it at all. I'm the type of person that gets absolutely morally devastated if my own self-inflicted goals aren't met, and I'm not sure if I can handle that kind of crushing heartbreak with this one lol

So yeah. Might publish, might not. Unsure right now.

When did you start writing?

My dad set up a Windows 95 computer for me in his office, his old one, and taught me the basics of using it. I was five, about to turn six. I immediately sat down and wrote a story about unicorns. I've been writing ever since.

I didn't start writing fanfiction until I was thirteen and had just binge-watched Lord of the Rings for the first time. We don't talk about those works. They were awful.

Do you have any words of encouragement for fellow writers of writeblr? What other writers do you follow?

Write it. Oh it's cringe? Who cares? Write it. Oh, it's a rare pair? Write it. You're worried people will hate it? Fuck the haters. Write it. Writing is about having fun. Writing is about pouring your soul onto the page. Writing is about getting those ideas out of your head so they don't drive you insane. It's about reaching that one person that finds your work and loves it. Even if no one reads it - you still accomplished something. You still wrote it. And no one can take that from you.

I have so many writers in my follow list. Uhh. I have no idea how many are still active, so I'm just going to tag who I know and hope for the best lol

@idyllicocean, @keeping-writing-frosty, @bloodtiesnovel, @asher-writes, @kitswrite, @theink-stainedfolk, @karkkidoeswriting, @lavender-gloom, @orphanheirs, @aquixoticwrites, @alinacapellabooks, @marlowethelibrarian, @flock-from-the-void, @dyrewrites, @storycraftcafe, @writer-imagination, @toragay-writing, @inseasofgreen, @stephtuckerauthor, @thatndginger, @finickyfelix, @eternalwritingstudent, @drchenquill, @paeliae-occasionally, @the-golden-comet, @talesofsorrowandofruin, @watermeezer, @goldfinchwrites, @winterandwords, @badscientist, @clairelsonao3, @i-can-even-burn-salad, @leahpardo-pa-potato, @mjparkerwriting, @rowanwriting, @oliolioxenfreewrites, @emelkae, @rita-rae-siller, @rebelxwriter, @kaylinalexanderbooks, @stesierra, @francineiswriting, @sunset-a-story, @chauceryfairytales, @hollyannewrites, @jaydenswaywrites, @captain-kraken, @violets-in-her-arms-writes, @romy-thewriter, @pure-solomon, @writingmaidenwarrior, @koiwrites

go, go follow them. they're all so good and make my timeline glow.

[heymrspatel]

✨weekly tag wednesday thursday✨

i was tagged by @crossmydna @energievie @deedala @casey-ackkat @sgtmickeyslaughter @mmmichyyy and @jrooc! thank you, cuties! 💙

name: julissa 🧚🏼

age: fresh 35 ✨

today we're going to be doing our very own Day in the Life! what's the very first thing you do when you wake up? snooze and snooze and snooze and snooze and s- 💤

what are we having for breakfast? i don't usually eat breakfast as soon as i wake up, but eventually my go to is eggs on toast 🥚

your caffeine order, if that's your thing: if i'm home, i'll have just have coffee with oat milk (or i'll have it iced if i remember - i brew it the night before and chill it overnight). if i'm out, i'll get a vanilla cold brew with oat milk 🥛

today we're wearing our favorite outfit! describe it to me: loose light blue carpenter jeans, one of my many funky sweaters, black leather jacket, crossbody bag, black chunky boots 🥾

no work today! what's the first thing you're doing on your day off? lounge around in bed as long as humanly possible! 🥱

you need to run your most frequent errand, where are you headed? uuuuh the supermarket... but i've gotten used to the convenience of having things delivered :crine:

are you driving, walking, or taking public transit? i'm walking. everything i need is within walking distance, it just becomes hard when you gotta schlep heavy shit back (hence the deliveries) 🚶🏻‍♀️

it's lunch time and you're out and about! where are you going and what's on the menu? i'm stopping at my fav local cafe and getting an eggs benny sandwich (with avocado, queso fresco, and smoky chipotle hollandaise hehehe) and a side of hash browns 😋

while heading home, you pass the mall and decide to stop in. what's the first store you're hitting up? there aren't any malls around here, but i'm definitely stopping at a bookstore! 📕

it's time for a Little Treat, what are you getting? either a hibiscus lime iced tea or a mango sweet tea (from the same cafe lol) 🍵

you're finally home! what show are you turning on for background noise? lately i've just been watching old episodes of rick steves traveling through europe lol 📺

you decide to do a few chores. what are your favorite and least favorite ones? i'd probably go for the dishes first, i find it almost relaxing sometimes! my least favorite is anything to do with the bathroom lmao 🧹

it's Hobby Time! what are you doing to flex your creative muscles? drawing! 🎨

time for dinner! what are we having, and what are you listening to while you make it/wait for it to arrive? butter garlic gnocchi! i'm singing loudly to frank ocean or kevin abstract or jean dawson 🎤

you're getting comfy for the evening, describe your favorite cozy outfit: huge tshirt and soft pj pants. that's my home uniform, i have so many to choose from lmao 👕

time to turn on something you'll actually watch, what is it? i've been on a movie kick lately, so usually i just randomly pick a couple a night to watch. but tv show wise, i'm currently watching andor!🍿

it's bedtime! tell me about your wind-down routine: quick and easy little stretches, brush teeth, turn on fan, dive headfirst into blankets 🛌🏻

what time do you usually go to bed? 11pm - 1am ⏰

and finally, was it a good day? yea, sure! 😌

i'm late, but i will tag @whatthebodygraspsnot @gallawitchxx @catgrassplantdad @whatwouldmickeydo @gardenerian @howlinchickhowl @iansfreckles if you would like to play! if not, this is just me placing a tiny little leaf in your palm 🍃

[libraryofneith]

Old Dog, New Tricks (Sandor Clegane x Female Reader)

Summary: After Sandor Clegane is rescued from the Stranger's door, he is forced to consider a future without violence, without abuse, and without servitude. Can he find a new purpose? Can he help more than he has harmed? And can he share a purpose with anyone else?

Fic Tags/Warnings: whole fic is 18+, minors DNI, cursing, violence and gore, eventual smut, some serious smutage, takes place season 6 onwards, canon divergence, last season what last season?, reader has a name, third person POV, grumpy x sunshine reader, sunshine character x sunshine protector, i am a sucker for the "grumpy old man who's mean to everyone except this one special person to whom he is unbelievable sweet" trope

Notes: this is not my first time writing game of thrones fanfic, nor my first time writing for this character, but it is my first time uploading for this character on tumblr. Those of you familiar with my work will know I've got another WIP and don't worry I've not forgotten it! I've already got 12 chapters for this so hopefully won't keep you waiting too long for updates. And won't keep you waiting too long for the smut which let's be real is why most of us are here, smut kicks in at chapter 11 and then we do not stop till dawn, I started this years ago, like pre pandemic years ago. Largely forgot about it until I discovered an old memory stick with a bunch of unfinished stories and now i'm back on my game of thrones bullsh!t. Might even re-upload an old AO3 fic of mine that I deleted years ago because I stopped liking it. Who knows? Anyways, that's enough rambling from me. On with the story, and as per, like and reblog to increase visibility and let me know if you want to be tagged when this story updates.

Fuck. Buggering fucking hell. Buggering shitting seven hells this hurts! I. Hurt. Everywhere. There’s something… something I need to think about. I said I’d watch over it… what is it? Eyes. I can see eyes. Someone’s here with me. Is it that big bitch? Bugger it all I can’t see properly! Who are you? What do you want? I can’t fight. I can’t fight. What the hell am I going to do? Bloody hell! What is it I’m forgetting? They. Whoever they are… they’re giving me something. A drink. Probably poisoned. Fuck I’m thirsty. But I can’t. They want to kill me. Shit I can feel it. I can’t fight them. Leave me alone! I don’t want your poisoned piss. Oh. It’s water. Fuck. Shit me. I feel like lead. I need to sleep. I can’t. They’ll run me through first chance they get. I’m drifting. I can’t stop. Maybe that water was poisoned after all. To hell with it. I’m ready. At least I’ll die in a bed. At least I think this is a bed. If only I could remember what I’m forgetting. Fuck.

---

I know. Eloquent right? Not to worry dearest reader, by the time you're done with this chapter I'll have the next one up which has more content.

[flowerandblood]

ONE YEAR OF FLOWER&BLOOD

✨🎉🌙✨🎉🌙✨🎉🌙✨🎉🌙✨🎉🌙✨🎉🌙

Exactly one year ago I posted my first chapter of the My Best Friend series. Nowadays I think it's something awful and I don't even try to edit it because I'd have to write everything from scratch, but I've left it for people who feel attached to the story. I remember getting about six likes and one comment on the first day and that huuuuge interest made me eager to create chapter 2 and then all the others.

I remember the excitement with which I waited and then replied to comments, not believing that people were actually waiting for the next chapter. At the time I was literally not following anyone, which was good because I wasn't comparing myself to anyone.

Eventually I felt I was ready to try writing other series and a few were successful enough that I decided to stay here permanently and create because it made me happy. Up to that point, everyone had been very kind to me and I started following more and more blogs, wanting to feel part of the fandom, to make friends with everyone. Now I know that was the biggest mistake I made.

Seeing things that didn't interest me, fanfic's whose way of writing couldn't draw me in, I felt frustrated, while at the same time fearing that if I stopped following someone, that person would see it as an affront. At the same time, The Impossible Choice, my biggest project until The Fall from the Heavens (which I'm currently editing and re-editing, while inserting on AO3), began to be written.

Just when I thought I had reached the pinnacle of my abilities (which wasn't true), I also started to clash with anonymous hate messages, probably the worst of which were those vilifying me and my husband, and those regarding my one-shot with Micheal Gavey. I know now that taking it personally and getting involved was my big mistake, and the fandom was shaken by drama that got out of hand.

I was a few steps away from deleting my blog at the time, but my husband talked me out of the idea (thankfully, as my stories aren't saved anywhere else − I'm only now moving them to AO3).

That's when I first realised that some people here I don't even like, and they probably don't like me. I wondered, why are we following each other then? Why are we pretending to have any courtesy? It was only later that I realised that to be considered someone's friend, you have to reblog their work and preferably agree with them even when they write hurtful things.

Since I've depleted my circle of those I follow to about 20 people, since I've blocked dozens of people and tags, there's been blissful silence (with the exceptions of when I write about behaviour in the fandom that I find toxic and someone accuses me of causing drama, but I'm used to it now). I've also never written happier than I do now.

Ideas come to me on their own, I don't feel uptight about what other big people will think of me, whether they reblog it, approve of it or not. I don't give a shit and life is beautiful! Although I can be emotionally unstable, I'm only 70 people short of crossing the next milestone of 3,000 followers, and that's BIG for me. It amuses me that I keep getting messages that someone is going to block me or stop following me, and you guys keep coming. It's gratifying.

I'm going to keep writing for you guys, and I'm sure during season two you'll also see my posts describing my impressions after the episodes in which I hope to involve my husband. I'll also keep you updated here on how I'm doing with my book I'm creating in my private life.

Apreciation

@ewanmitchellcrumbs

Ange. I know that sometimes I'm fucked up, but I want you to know that you've made this place so much more bearable for me that I can't imagine it without you. What I appreciate most about you is that you can talk and discuss, that you always try to understand the other side, that you are empathetic, warm and kind. I feel that, like friends in everyday life, we can also tell each other about things we disagree about, and there are not many people like that here.

On top of that, you are very talented and your stories are always a pleasure to read, even when they are short, you are able to build the plot and atmosphere perfectly, something I have always admired. Thank you for every kind word and understanding.

I still remember your first message to me via ask, referring to the fact that I didn't want to write a pairing with a mermaid because someone else was writing about it at the same time. My heart melted then, it was so nice!

@targaryenrealnessdarling

Liz, Queen of Angst! Your calmness and composure puts me in awe. You're disgustingly talented when it comes to writing and you have a super-sweet personality. When you started following me I began to squirm with delight, and when you started reblogging my stuff? My goodness!!!

@persephonerinyes

You've been engaging and reblogging my stories for as long as I can remember. Always involved, your thoughts make me smile. Thank you for being with me for so long!

@zenka96

You've been here with me since the dawn of time. You know that I love you. Your support from the very beginning really makes me feel like I have a friend here.

@huramuna

I am so proud of you! I remember your asks when I wrote Glass Cuts Deepest, your illustrations for me and your uncertainty about whether you should start writing yourself. I'm so happy for you and that you are so successful! You deserved it.

@black-dread & @aegonx

You are my favourite gif makers. Your work always leaves me in awe, you are amazing! I know how much work you put into it and somehow you make even the worst lit scenes look wonderful!

@summerposie; @0eessirk8; @melsunshine; @immyowndefender; @bellaisasleep; @kckt88; @thedamewithabook; @happinessinthebeing; @queenofshinigamis; @travelingmypassion; @mefools; @fan-goddess; @toodlesxcuddles; @ammo23; @troublesomesnitch; @mariahossain; @out-of-life; @apothe-roses; @heavenhatesme; @whitearemydarkestnight; @liv-cole; @blackswxnn; @echos-muses; @watercolorskyy; @at-a-rax-ia; @tssf-imagines; @snh96; @hiatuswhore; @exitpursuedbyavulcan; @darylandbethfanforever9; @the-dendrophile-bookdragon; @opheliaas-stuff @zaldritzosrose

Your comments and reblogs make me want to keep writing. You make me laugh, you comfort me and you support me. I know I'm definitely forgetting someone, but I want you to know that I love everyone who comments on my stories and there is nothing better for me than responding to your reactions and questions! I have known some of you for so many months that I truly consider you my good friends!

lottie-blue-star; aveatquevale-; aemondtargaryenwifey marvelescvpe; alphard-hydraes-blog; herejusttostan; li0nn3stuff; alexandrawho; vilmakamunen; angelinap09; theloveablestargirl; rose-blue-19; xxxkat3xxx; flosaureum; mandiiblanche; librawh0re; jasminecosmic99; ivvypg; rojocarnation; killmanduh; tokkiiidoll; wolfdressedinlace; angelofvivianne; nina2697; starwarsgirlsimmer1; katsucker; ipostwhtifeel; aemondsdelight; ilswemoon; tigrigri; pasta-rask; roselibrary; lystargs; gemini-mama; nikstrange; tempo-rary-fix; coffeeobsessedtrencher; gwuinivyre; dreamerbythewayx; diiickbrainn; mothmankit

And everyone else I missed and whose icons I would recognize from afar. I know that you have been with me for many months, often in silence or communicating anonymously. Your silent support and presence is something wonderful for me, knowing that you have been with me for so long and read all my posts!

Thankyouthankyouthankyou!!!!

[commehter]

The current cover art for The Spirit Tale of Fire Lord Ozai.

The 1st attempt before going back to tweak colors (especially on the background gradient) and a second round of highlights.

Clean close up of the crown itself without the foreground flames obscuring it.

A closer-to-canon version of the crown, removing the scorching/scar and embroidery on the band.

I've used this image in a few places now (Royal Road, Spotify, Discord. Should probs add it to AO3 as SToFLO's main home. See below edit.) for SToFLO, but I haven't really talked about it. So, let's do that!

First, white fire is HARD. (Especially in ATLA's style, which doesn't seem to keep to a brightest/hottest flame near the source pattern, so much as a bright spots where they look good until the flame shape abruptly ends method.) It's ridiculously difficult to keep the flames from looking ghostly (adding some yellows and reds buried under the white so they can just barely be seen helped with that) to say nothing of trying to keep them bright without turning them into a blob of white. I kinda hated myself for making that a plot point while I was working on this. Worse, depending on monitor/phone settings, this image can be either blinding or a dingy gray. I eventually had to accept that I could either scrap them (which I clearly did not do) or make my peace with the situation.

I really like how the reflections on the gold came out on my second attempt. I waffled over doing them the first time because the canon images I found for reference (They were surprisingly hard to find. Everything is either an establishing shot too far out for good detail, or a close up on the face that cuts out the crown.) don't seem to put any special shine on the crown at all. Some feedback encouraged me to at least try it to help tie the foreground and subject into a cohesive image. I'm glad I listened! It looks so much better than the first version for that factor alone.

It's not literal to the fic (barring sudden inspiration -- Agni might enjoy tagging along as a tiny sphere cradled in the crown, just because?) but I effectively slapped Zuko's scar on the crown and amused myself thoroughly doing so. I probably should have gone back and tweaked the background colors again to up the contrast between the two elements. (Maybe if there's a third version I'll remember to alter that.)

The band looked very plain as it was, so I added some embroidery. Flames and waves seemed Fire Nation appropriate, so that's what I ended up adding.

The finished piece is by no means perfect, but overall I'm quite chuffed with how it turned out. I learned a good bit making it, that's for sure.

Edit: I tried adding the image to AO3 in a few different ways, but failed to find any I liked. Doubly so when taking into account the differences in display size/dimensions for desktop/mobile. Formatting across systems is a pain.

Rejected options included: in the summary (couldn't make it look nice with AO3's limited HTML -- no float, table was a clunky workaround at best), in the opening notes (crowded, edging toward bloated), and above the text of the first chapter (same crowding problem, but uglier for being below the horizontal break). Oh well. It was a nice thought.

Edit2: Might go back and try adding it to a later (but still early) chapter, if I can find a place it would make sense to insert it. It should be a complementary addition to the story, not a distraction, ya know?

Edit3: Stuck it at the beginning of chapter six. Not totally happy with the placement, but it's the best I've come up with. We'll see if I stick with it.

[unpredictable-probabilities]

Raisins and Dates

Summary:

A beautiful stranger catches Hob’s eye during a night out at a bar. Spurred on by his cheeky friends and a fair amount of alcohol, Hob makes his way over to court him through the most daring method possible.

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 7,874

Square/Prompt: C3 - Bad Pickup Lines |  @dreamlingbingo

Ship(s): Dream of the Endless | Morpheus/Hob Gadling

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Human, First Meeting, Pick-Up Lines, Bad Pick-Up Lines, But they both find it cute so it's okay, Drunkenness, Drunken Shenanigans, Drunken Confessions, Temporary memory loss because of drunkenness, Hangover, Sweet, Sweet/Hot, Domestic, Kissing, Neck Kissing, French Kissing, Hand Jobs, Blow Jobs, Oral Sex, Smut, Eventual Smut, Cuddling & Snuggling

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/57613603

—

“Look, I've seen you use pickup lines,” Hob reminded his friends, his words only slurring a bit. It was their first night out in weeks because of conflicting work schedules and they might have gotten a bit enthusiastic at downing shots. “Half of you lot got rejected within seconds of saying them. Pickup lines are…” he furrowed his eyebrows as he tried to remember what adjectives were. “Stupid. The only reason you even attempt them is because that's what people do in bars. But not me. I've seen enough of you crash and burn. I've made up my mind,” he took a drink from his beer bottle. “I'm never gonna use any pickup line.”

It wasn't the most world-changing principle to hold onto, but Hob tended to run his mouth whenever he'd had more than a few drinks, and when his equally drunk friends dared him to get any stranger's phone number with a pickup line, Hob suddenly felt like giving an entire lecture about it.

“You're an idiot, Robbie,” Ken called him by the nickname he knew Hob disliked the most. “You're just saying that ‘cause you know you'll get rejected like the rest of us.”

Frank piped up. “Maybe I'll take you up on that dare, Ken. You think a pickup line would work on that lady in the black shirt?” He nodded over to the bar where a woman with curly hair and a nice smile was talking to a man who had his back to them.

“Oh, honey,” Hal gave Frank a pitying look. “I don't think anything you say would work on someone so out of your league. And it's a tank top, not a shirt.”

“And that guy could be her boyfriend,” Ken pointed with a nacho to the man leaning against the bar.

Hob was about to say something, but whatever it was fled his mind when the man turned around to speak to the bartender.

His face reminded Hob of those Greek statues in museums; lined features on smooth marble, cheekbones so sharp that Hob would willingly risk getting his hand cut if it meant he could touch them.

“I don't think they're dating,” Hob managed to remember what he was about to say, but this time he knew he sounded a bit hopeful.

“Oh?” Hal arched an intrigued eyebrow. “Would you mind confirming for us, darling?”

“Hey,” Frank elbowed Hob. “If you get that bloke’s number with a pickup line, I’ll get the tab for our next three nights out.”

“Now, we’re talking!” Ken piped up.

Hob was barely listening, still staring at the man who had now turned his back again to continue his conversation with the woman. He stood up—to the surprised and slurred cheers of his friends—and made his way over to the bar.

The woman saw him first, meeting his gaze over the man’s shoulder. For a second, Hob was afraid that they really were dating, and the woman was about to drag the man away somewhere else.

But she smiled warmly and said to the man, “I think someone wants to buy you a drink, brother,” nodding in Hob’s direction.

Brother. Hob knew he was already grinning.

The man turned to face him, and Hob’s breath hitched, suddenly realising how close they were to each other. Piercing blue eyes fixed on him, before flicking down to the bottle he still held in his hand.

“I do not think you should buy any more drinks,” the man said, an amused smile pulling at the corner of his mouth.

“Do you like raisins?” Hob blurted out.

The man looked at him curiously. “I don’t believe they sell raisins here.”

“Well how do you feel about a date?” Hob said cheekily.

The man’s face showed a combination of surprise and confusion, but he wasn’t walking away and Hob was taking that as a win.

The woman laughed good-naturedly behind her brother and patted him on the back. “I think that’s my cue to leave.”

Her brother raised an eyebrow. “You are the one who pestered me to go out tonight, and now you will leave me alone?”

“I'll just be over there by the tables if you need me,” she smiled reassuringly before walking away.

The man turned to Hob again. “Do such lines usually work for you?”

Hob chuckled, leaning against the bar. “Nah. I’ve never even used a pickup line until now. I just heard one of my friends use that one earlier.”

“And did it work?”

“Not at all,” Hob shook his head. “The guy didn’t know that dates were a fruit, and it was just an awkward time with my friend trying to explain the wordplay.”

Amusement twinkled in the man’s eyes, softening his features. “Then why use the same line if it proved ineffective?”

“Had to say something, didn’t I? And we’re having a conversation right now so I’d say it’s effective enough.” Hob grinned and finished the last of his beer, placing the empty bottle on the bar. “Y’know, my friends thought your sister was your girlfriend.” Was that relevant? Hob wasn’t sure, but it was something to say.

The man’s eyebrows lifted. “And that is why you approached me? To settle an argument among your friends?”

“S’no argument,” Hob frowned to try to remember. He hadn’t really been paying attention to the table conversation at the time. “Yeah. I just thought you’re beautiful and I’d regret it for the rest of my life if we never talked,” he chuckled and looked down, sheepishly tugging at his earlobe.

The man had a look of mild surprise on his face. “You are… sincere.”

“What? Well, yeah. Why would I lie about that?” Hob asked in confusion.

“Some people do,” the man gave a half shrug. “It’s why I dislike going to these places,” he muttered, eyeing the crowds.

“Oh,” Hob remembered what this man said about his sister just pestering him to go here tonight. He shifted on his feet uncomfortably. “Um, I can just go back to my friends. If that’s what you want…?”

The man looked at him for a moment, then he opened his mouth to answer—

“Here's your order, sir.” The bartender placed a drink and a small basket of pretzels on the bar. He handed back a credit card.

“Thank you.” The man took the card and turned back to Hob. “Do you like pretzels?”

Hob blinked. He looked at the basket and back at the man. “I— Yeah.”

“Then would you care to join me? I believe we can find a table somewhere.” His eyes seemed to glitter with intent before he gracefully turned and walked away.

Hob could do nothing but follow, determined to find out just what sort of intent the man had in mind.

They sat across from each other at a table, and Hob felt a bit more confident at being invited. “I never caught your name.”

“Finally remembered to ask, didn't you?” the man arched a perfectly shaped eyebrow.

“Technically, I still haven't asked,” Hob replied with a cheeky grin.

The corner of the man’s mouth twitched up. “Dream.”

“What?” Hob furrowed his eyebrows, unsure if he heard correctly.

“My name is Dream.”

“Uh-huh,” Hob said, playfully skeptical. “Because you look like a dream?”

“I am telling the truth,” the man’s eyes were twinkling with mirth as he took something out of his wallet, then showed it to Hob.

Hob leaned forward and saw that it was an ID card. “You’re a director?”

“For theatre plays, yes.” The man—Dream—put the ID back in his wallet. “The latest production we’ve done was a retelling of Twelfth Night.”

“Ah, Shakespeare.” Hob must have looked unimpressed, because Dream tilted his head curiously.

“You are not fond of The Bard?”

Hob shrugged. “I’ve always just preferred Christopher Marlowe. Though I wouldn’t mind having a Dream for a midsummer’s night,” he winked.

Dream’s lips curved into an amused smile. “It is only the 7th of June, weeks away from midsummer.”

“Well I’d love to see you again then,” Hob said easily, endeared by how Dream knew exactly when midsummer would even be.

“I do not tend to have meetings with strangers,” Dream leaned back in his seat with a playful gaze.

“Oh! My name!” Hob suddenly realised. “Right, sorry.” He got his own ID from his pocket and showed it to Dream. “I’m Hob.”

Dream read it with a curious expression. “Your ID says Robert.”

“Yeah, but my friends call me Hob.” He pocketed the ID again.

“And that is what we are?” There were equal parts intrigue and wonder in Dream’s voice.

“If you’d like…?” Hob said, suddenly unsure what Dream wanted out of this interaction.

Then there was that small smile again, and Hob knew he'd do anything to see it more often. “I would. Hob Gadling.”

The way Dream said his name made Hob’s breath catch in his throat. The soft rumble that came out of those pink lips seemed to caress each syllable as if it were something precious.

“So you’re a manager at a coffee shop?” Dream brought a pretzel to his mouth and his tongue darted out to get it.

Hob tried not to stare too much at that and almost succeeded. “Uh, yeah. I came here to meet up with my mates straight from my shift. I’ve switched jobs a lot, though. I’ve been a handyman, mechanic, even managed a flower shop for a few months.”

“I see. And you enjoy this lifestyle?” The evident interest in Dream’s voice made Hob feel heady.

“I do,” Hob nodded sincerely. “I get to meet different sorts of people, and I learn a lot too. There’s so much to see out there, you know?”

Dream stared at him thoughtfully for a few moments. “But?”

“But… what?” Hob furrowed his eyebrows.

“You seem wistful. Do you wish for a job you haven’t tried yet?”

Hob was so taken aback he felt himself sober up a few degrees. He hadn’t expected to be figured out so quickly and easily by someone he just met.

“I apologise,” Dream said with a concerned frown. “I didn’t mean to ask such a personal question.”

“No, no, it’s okay,” Hob hurriedly said, willing himself to calm down from whatever facial expression he’d been wearing. “I was just surprised, that’s all. No one’s read me that well before,” he smiled to lighten the mood.

“Perhaps they weren’t interested enough.”

“In my experience?”

“In you.”

Hob felt a warmth in his chest that seemed to reach his ears. He chuckled and glanced down for a moment. “Well, um, I always wanted to be a professor. Got my degree and everything, all that's left is to actually apply but…” he shrugged. “Things were pretty rough a few years ago, and I wasn’t in the right headspace to have a career with that kind of responsibility. So I took on other jobs first, and I guess I just haven’t broken that habit yet.”

Dream nodded. “I see.” He looked like he wanted to say something else, and Hob recognised that curiosity.

Normally he would redirect the conversation; people didn’t like emotional baggage being brought up during what was supposed to just be a night of flirting, but Dream didn’t seem like the type to prefer shallow conversations. And Hob wasn’t either.

“It was a nasty breakup,” Hob said. “I proposed. Turned out that while I was spending weeks looking for the perfect engagement ring, she was planning her breakup speech.” He huffed out a chuckle. “Took a while to pick myself back up.” He reached for a pretzel and ate it just to have something to do. He hadn’t talked about it in a long time, and he wasn’t sure what reaction to expect.

“I was engaged once,” Dream said, making Hob glance at him. “We had moved to Greece for our jobs. Eventually we realised we were too different, and that the engagement was our last desperate attempt to make things work between us. We broke it off, and I moved back here.” He finished the drink in his glass.

“Ah.” Hob searched for the right words to say. “I didn’t mean to remind you of all that, sorry. And now I feel like a sod complaining about what happened to me,” he chuckled lightly. “You had to move countries and you’re still doing really well in your work.”

Dream shook his head. “Comparing our suffering only compounds it,” he said gently. “Better to focus on what we have now. ‘It’s good to touch the earth with your bare feet,’ as my sister would say,” he gave a small smile.

Hob felt himself smile back. “You said she was the one who dragged you out here tonight, right? I’ll have to thank her for this spontaneous date, then.”

Dream made a huff that was almost a chuckle. “A date? I have not even bought you a drink yet.” He raised a hand to call the attention of a passing waiter. “A glass of vermouth, please. Sweet.” He handed over his empty glass to the waiter and turned to Hob. “And for the gentleman…?”

“Oh, uh, a gin and tonic, please,” Hob told the waiter.

“Right away,” the waiter nodded politely and headed to the bar.

“Hey,” Hob turned to Dream. “I was the one who approached you, I’m the one who should buy you a drink, right?” He had been planning to, but Dream invited him to a table and it took priority in his mind.

“Perhaps you could buy me one on our second date,” Dream smirked playfully. “I believe you said midsummer?”

“I don’t think I can wait that long,” Hob said without thinking. He almost said it was just a joke, but the look in Dream’s eyes was far from disapproving.

The waiter arrived with their drinks and placed them on the table. Dream thanked him without breaking eye contact with Hob.

“Perhaps we shouldn’t.” Dream picked up his glass. “Wait that long.” He took a drink, and Hob’s eyes got drawn to the bob of his throat.

“Are we already planning a second date when the first one isn’t even done yet?” Hob grinned.

“Do you object?” Dream raised an eyebrow.

“No,” Hob said, probably louder than necessary. “Just can’t believe my luck, that’s all.”

They talked over their drinks and pretzels, and Dream turned out to be as good of a talker as a listener. Hob enjoyed listening to his deep voice as Dream told him about the process of reimagining the plays at the theatre, and the cat that he had adopted ever since moving back here, a black Main Coon named Sable. Dream spoke of him with such fondness that Hob almost asked to meet him.

Hob told Dream about his varying work experiences, his realisation that he loved learning new things and meeting all sorts of people, and that was why he couldn’t seem to stay in one job for very long. He talked about how he started buying coffee beans and a coffee maker a few weeks into working at the café because he wanted to experiment with his own recipes, and the regulars who always seemed to cheer up whenever they find a misspelling in their names on the cups, and so Hob sometimes misspelled their names on purpose when they looked like they were having a bad day.

Dream listened, and gave those small smiles that Hob was very nearly getting addicted to. They ordered more drinks, and Hob insisted on paying for some, so Dream paid for chips and then nachos. He encouraged Hob to be a professor on his next career change, and for the first time in a long time, Hob actually considered it.

At some point Hob told the story of his first attempt at making his own espresso drink at home, how he had more confidence than skill and ended up spitting out very expensive ingredients. Dream laughed so brightly that Hob sent a quick message in the groupchat with his friends that he wouldn’t be leaving the bar with them tonight. No matter how this night would end for him and Dream, Hob wanted to spend as much time with him as humanly possible.

***

Hob woke up with a pounding headache and a dry mouth. He groaned and moved to roll to his side, then nearly fell off when his body met what felt like a small table instead of the other side of his bed.

He blinked himself to full consciousness and realised he was on a couch. A fluffy black cat was sitting on the armrest at his feet, regarding him with yellow eyes that shone in the dimness of the living room.

I don't have a cat, Hob’s hungover brain managed.

Bits and pieces of the night before flashed in Hob’s mind. Blue eyes sparkling with mirth. A deep chuckle. Rosy pink lips forming a name.

Hob sat up properly and stared at the cat. “Sable…?” he guessed.

The cat's ears perked up and his tail swished once, his eyes still looking at Hob.

I'm in Dream’s house, Hob realised with awe.

He looked around and took in his surroundings.

Thick curtains were drawn at the windows and the lights were off, keeping the room dim, so he wasn’t sure what time it was. The coffee table appeared to have been dragged to be right next to the couch, judging by the tracks on the carpet. On the table was a glass of water with a plastic lid, next to a small packet of painkillers. There was a Post-It note beside it, and Hob leaned over and squinted to read the smooth cursive.

For your headache. -Dream

He felt himself smile, despite the disorientation. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to remember what exactly happened last night.

“How do you plan on going home?” Dream asked as they exited the bar into the cool night air, Hob leaning against him for support because walking properly was a sober man’s game.

“That’s not fair, you know,” Hob frowned as Dream gently propped him up against the wall. “You drank about as much as me, how are you not wobbling?” he pointed an accusatory finger at Dream.

Dream smiled in amusement. “Did you have dinner at all tonight? Chips and nachos do not count.”

Hob tried to recall the last few hours. “S’pose not. We were gonna order food, me and my mates. But then we saw you and then I walked over and…” he gestured vaguely to nothing in particular. “Here we are.”

Dream sighed, but his gaze looked fond. “If I had known you were operating on an empty stomach, I would have ordered more substantial food with our drinks.” He furrowed his eyebrows in concern. “Will you even be able to take a cab in your state?”

“Sure, I can call one.” Hob pulled out his phone and pressed uselessly at the unlock button a few times before realising the battery was drained. “Hm. S’just a brick now.” He tapped it firmly on his palm a few times as if jostling it would do anything.

“I live just a few blocks from here,” Dream said, watching Hob repeatedly attempt to return his phone to his pocket and finally succeeding at the fifth try. “Can I invite you to stay at my place? Just so you won’t have to travel by yourself tonight.”

Hob perked up at that. He straightened up to agree, but in doing so left the support of the wall. “Woah—”

Dream caught him by the waist before he fell face-first onto the pavement. “Careful.”

Hob grabbed Dream’s shoulders to steady himself, and realised Dream’s arms were around him. “You’re really nice,” he said with a dopey grin. “Your serious face is a bit scary at first, but under that you’re really sweet.” He tapped the tip of Dream’s nose with his finger.

Dream was trying to hold back a smile and only partially succeeding. “You’re drunk.”

“And you’re pretty.” Hob leaned forward to emphasise his point, which made Dream stumble a bit backwards.

Dream chuckled and shook his head fondly. “Come along, my car is parked nearby.”

“Oh my god,” Hob whispered, putting a hand to his reddening face. He probably looked so idiotic last night. He had to find Dream so he could apologise profusely and buy him breakfast or something. Was it even time for breakfast yet?

He turned to Sable. “Hey, buddy. Do you know where I can find your human?”

Sable walked in a circle three times before curling up on the armrest, facing away from Hob. Evidently not wanting anything to do with whatever mess Hob had gotten himself into.

“Yeah, I don't blame you,” Hob sighed.

He straightened up on the couch and took a painkiller, gratefully finishing the entire glass of water. He glanced at the smaller couch next to the wall and noticed that a phone was charging. His phone.

Hob smiled. Dream really was sweet. His drunk self had it right.

He stood up, slowly, because his head still hurt with every movement and it somehow felt very rude to disrupt Sable's nap. The cat had an air of sophistication to him much like his owner; Hob wouldn't be surprised if Dream spoke Greek to Sable.

Hob sat on the smaller couch and turned on his phone. After a few seconds, the screen showed that it was past 10 AM. Bit late for breakfast, then. Where was Dream? Hob doubted that he would leave his house with a practical stranger in it.

A series of notifications on his phone drew his attention. Some of them were messages from last night, replies from his friends in the groupchat when Hob said they could leave the bar without him. They were playfully cheering him on and that was that.

Though the next batch of messages was still coming in, arriving one after the other now that Hob’s phone was able to receive them.

Hal: @Hob darling did you make it home safe?

Ken: how was tall pale n handsome

Frank: guys he’s not even seeing the messages 👀

Ken: probably still asleep

Ken: all shagged out

Abel: what’s happening? i don’t join one night out and suddenly hob’s getting laid???

Hal: hopefully 💕

Frank: holy shit did the pickup lines work

Hob chuckled and shook his head. He began to type out a reply that yes he was safe, and no he was not shagged out by any means and only just made a fool of himself.

He was about to hit send when he realised he wasn’t wearing the same shirt he had on last night. In fact, he didn’t recognise these clothes at all. He was pretty sure he didn’t own a white sweater with the design of a black cat on it, and the grey sweatpants he was currently wearing wasn’t his either.

What.

He locked his phone and placed it down beside him. What else happened?

They stumbled into the living room, Dream closing the front door while Hob’s arm was around his shoulders. He switched on the light and got Hob to sit on the couch. It was cooler indoors compared to the warmth of Dream’s car, and Hob made a noise of complaint when Dream made a move to disentangle himself from Hob’s side.

“I shall get you some water,” Dream explained and stood up.

Hob’s brain didn’t process the words and at that moment he only cared that Dream’s warmth was leaving him. He reached out and clumsily pulled Dream back; Dream gave a surprised shout as they both flailed and fell over, Hob landing flat on his back on the couch with Dream on top of him.

Dream’s blue eyes were wide with surprise, his dark hair looking as soft as clouds. Hob wanted to touch but was afraid of ruining it somehow. Clouds weren’t meant to be touched, only admired. Or else they would disappear into mist or raindrops and be gone.

“You’re beautiful,” Hob breathed, his hands resting on Dream’s back.

Dream’s gaze softened and his lips lifted at the corners, and Hob felt his heart race at being so close to that smile. So close.

“As you are,” Dream said quietly, his warm breath caressing Hob’s mouth.

“‘Specially your eyes,” Hob continued. “They light up. When you talk about your cat. And that bloke Shakespeare. What’s so good about ‘im anyway?” he frowned.

Dream chuckled and dipped his head, lightly touching their foreheads together for a moment before looking at Hob again.

“And then I thought…” Hob tried to find the words. It felt important to say them. “I’d do anything for you to look at me like that. With that bright fondness in your eyes.”

Dream’s smile melted off his face, replaced by a look of surprise.

“And then you did,” Hob’s kept speaking quietly, just loud enough for Dream to hear. “When I told you I’d live a hundred more years because there’s so much to live for. I dunno why you looked at me that way when I said it, but you did. And I wanted to kiss you right then.”

Dream swallowed, his eyes dropping to Hob’s mouth.

“I still do,” Hob whispered. He reached up and brushed a lock of hair from Dream’s forehead.

“Hob,” Dream’s tone held a warning, though it was softened by the waver in his voice.

“Dream…” Hob let his hand drop to the side of Dream’s face, his thumb lightly brushing over a pale cheekbone, watching a hint of pink blossom on the skin.

He kept his gentle hold on Dream’s face as they moved closer, their noses touching, their breaths mixing as their parted lips were only a hair’s breadth away—

Hob’s eyes were wide as he sat frozen on the couch. His heart raced and his cheeks flushed at the memory. But… that was it. His memories ended there.

He shut his eyes tight and desperately tried to remember what happened next. If he and Dream kissed then surely, surely, he would remember it? The press of those soft pink lips, the slide of tongue against his own…

He opened his eyes and huffed out a breath in exasperation. Nothing. And he’s wearing Dream’s clothes! If they did shag and he couldn’t remember a second of it, he would never forgive himself. He would swear off drinking forever if it meant he could remember it all.

“Ah, I see you've met Sable.”

Hob’s eyes snapped up to the sound of that voice.

Dream was standing by the other couch and scratching Sable under the chin. Sable was purring appreciatively and leaning into Dream’s touch, and Dream glanced down at the cat with such soft fondness on his face that it calmed Hob’s nerves.

“Would you care to join me in the dining room?” Dream turned to Hob again. “I just finished cooking.” He was wearing a blue apron over a black sweater similar to Hob’s, and black joggers that hung low on his hips.

“I…” Hob had so many questions and no idea how to voice out any of them. “You cooked?” he said instead.

Dream nodded. “Given that it was my fault you didn’t get to eat dinner last night, I thought it only polite to make breakfast for you. Although it’s technically brunch now.”

“Yeah, um…” Hob stood up but wasn’t sure what to say. He still couldn’t remember the entirety of last night—to his eternal regret—and he didn’t know what their dynamic was supposed to be now. “Thanks for charging my phone,” he smiled and gestured to it.

“It’s fortunate that we have the same model,” Dream returned the smile. He gave Sable a few scratches behind the ears before the cat decided to move to where Hob had been sleeping, scratching his claws a few times into the cushions before stretching his body and lying down to continue his nap.

Hob remembered reading somewhere that cats scratched at furniture to leave their scent and mark their territory, and Sable doing that to the place where Hob had been seemed quite telling.

“Shall we head to the dining room while the food is still warm?” Dream asked.

Hob nodded and followed him.

The rest of the house wasn’t nearly as dim as the living room; all the curtains were open and sunlight streamed in, dappling softly on the floor and furniture.

“Oh, should I keep the curtains closed here as well?” Dream must have noticed him staring at the windows.

“What?” Hob turned to him. “No, it’s fine… Wait, you kept the living room dark for me?”

Dream nodded. “Bright light is painful for hangovers. I can draw the curtains here too, if you’d like. Have a seat, please,” he gestured to the dining table before removing his apron and hanging it on a hook in the kitchen.

“No, it’s okay, I don’t mind the sunlight,” Hob said as he sat down.

Dream took a seat across from him, and without the apron Hob could see that his black sweater was dotted with white stars.

“Hob,” Dream’s voice resurfaced in Hob’s memory.

“Dream…” Hob brushed his thumb over a smooth cheekbone.

Dream’s pupils were blown wide, almost covering all the blue of his eyes. They reflected the light, and Hob could imagine the pinpricks of white to be galaxies, and he was more than willing to get lost in them.

Dream’s weight was pressing him down pleasantly on the couch, and Hob’s eyes fluttered shut, his breath held in anticipation as Dream leaned in closer.

“Hob? Are you alright?”

Hob grabbed the pitcher of water and poured himself a glass, gulping everything down. “Mm-hm.”

He kept remembering that moment on the couch, and he could feel his mind dangerously close to filling in the blanks of what could have happened, and he really needed to cool down instead of fantasising about the man in front of him who he may or may not have slept with.

“Did you take the painkiller?”

“Yeah, I did. Thanks for that, by the way,” Hob tried for a smile, but he still couldn’t quite meet Dream’s eyes. He looked around at the food and tried to decide which one to get first.

“I… apologise.”

Hob looked at Dream and saw that his shoulders were tense and drawn up, like he was trying to look formal and hide himself at the same time.

“Is this… too much?” Dream’s gaze was guarded but Hob thought he glimpsed a hint of sadness in them. “You may leave anytime you wish, of course. I just thought… you might want some food.” He glanced down but kept his posture straight. “But if you prefer to go—”

“What? No, Dream—” Hob suddenly felt panicked. Did he just hurt Dream somehow? “I don’t wanna leave. Why would you think that?”

Dream met his eyes and frowned in confusion. “You seem… uncomfortable. I am aware that our agreement was only for you to stay the night, and it is nearly noon now. So I understand if—”

“Dream, it’s not that,” Hob didn’t want him to think those things at all. “I just…” he shifted in his seat. “Why… Why am I wearing your clothes…?” Might as well be direct about it.

Dream’s eyebrows lifted in surprise.

“I don’t remember, I’m sorry,” Hob blurted out. “I— Fuck,” he breathed, running a hand down his face. “I want to remember. God, the first time I wake up with missing memories in someone else’s home and it’s with you of all people. I’m… I’m so sorry, Dream,” he shook his head in remorse.

Dream blinked, his shoulders relaxing. “Hob. Why would you apologise for such a thing?”

“Well I don't want you to think that it didn't mean anything to me,” Hob’s eyes dropped to his plate and he fidgeted with his fork. “Which it did, whatever it was. Whether it was just a— a kiss or— or something else—” he stammered and looked to see Dream’s reaction.

Realisation appeared on Dream's face, and an amused smile slowly graced his lips and brightened his features. “Hob Gadling. If we had slept together, why would you be on the couch and not my bed?”

“I don't know!” Hob said defensively, his cheeks heating up. “Maybe we didn't make it to the bedroom? I don't remember!”

Dream looked down and was really trying hard to fight a smile. The adorable sight of it began to calm Hob a bit, especially when Dream met his eyes again. “I would have taken you to my bed. I'll have you know I'm a gentleman. Unless requested otherwise,” he added in a low voice and smirked.

Hob’s breath hitched. God, this man was going to kill him.

Then something sparked in his mind, a memory that surfaced after Dream's remark about being a gentleman.

Dream’s lips were so close to his that Hob could almost taste them.

Then Dream pulled away and placed a firm hand on Hob’s chest. “Tomorrow,” he said decisively, a slight tremble in his voice.

Hob opened his eyes.

“Tomorrow. If this is still what you want,” Dream explained, then he pulled away entirely and stood up, disappearing from Hob’s field of vision.

Hob blinked repeatedly, still reeling from the whiplash. Dream was going to kiss him, right? What happened?

“For now, you must hydrate or your mouth will feel so parched tomorrow.” Dream had returned, and Hob instinctively sat up at the sound of his voice.

He knocked over the glass that Dream had been handing over to him, spilling the water all over his shirt and trousers.

Hob flinched back and grimaced. “Cold.”

“Oh dear.” Dream picked up the now empty glass that had fallen on the couch and placed it on the coffee table. “I shall get you a change of clothes. Wait here, and please don't touch anything else or you might hurt yourself. Stay here, do you understand?” Dream cupped Hob’s face and gently lifted it to make Hob look at him.

Hob smiled at the feeling of Dream’s hand on his skin, and he nodded. “I'll wait for you.”

Dream smiled fondly and walked away.

“Oh,” Hob said in realisation, the memories coming back to him.

“You remember now?”

“Yeah,” Hob nodded. “You handed me the clothes and I just took off my shirt right there, because somehow it made sense to me to just change in front of you,” he cringed. “And then that was when you left, right?”

“Yes,” Dream said with an amused smile. “I said a hasty good night and retreated to my room before you decided to take off your trousers as well.”

“Yeah I remember that too,” Hob put a hand to his temple, his headache had dulled but the sudden wave of embarrassment seemed to be worsening it. “Can we eat now? I think I'd rather forget about everything again.”

Dream laughed, a soft and bright one that immediately put Hob at ease. “Of course.”

It was a pleasant surprise, how easily they slipped back into comfortable conversation after all the misunderstanding and awkwardness. They finished eating and Hob insisted that he would wash the dishes since Dream already cooked everything.

“Thanks again for letting me crash at your couch,” Hob said as he put the last of the dishes in the drying rack. “I don't think I've gotten that drunk since uni.”

“I just didn't want you waking up at a bus station somewhere,” Dream quipped and finished putting the leftovers in the fridge.

Hob chuckled and leaned back against the counter. “So uh, do you have any plans today? What do you usually do on Saturdays?”

Dream stood beside him and leaned on the counter too, crossing his arms thoughtfully. “It varies. Sometimes I’d go to a restaurant I’d never been to before, or visit my friend who works at the library. Oh, and there’s a museum a short drive away that holds a different art gallery every month. I try to see the new exhibits whenever I can. I had no prior plans for today, though.” He tilted his head slightly to the side. “Do you have anything in mind?”

Hob grinned, he couldn’t help it; Dream wanted to keep spending time with him. “I do, yeah. There’s a park here that recently displayed murals because it’s summer, they got a theme going on and everything. I think the artworks are made by high school and college kids. I’ve passed by it a few times but never really got to see it yet. What do you think?”

Dream’s eyes lit up, and Hob knew he’d take him anywhere just to see that again. “I would gladly see the murals with you. Are they accessible at any time or is there a scheduled exhibit?”

“Let me check. They posted it online.” Hob instinctively reached for his pockets but found them empty. “Oh right, my phone's in the living room.”

“Ah. I would check the schedule myself, but I'm afraid something's wrong with my phone.” Dream took his phone from the counter, then unlocked it and looked down at the screen.

Hob furrowed his eyebrows. “What’s wrong with it?”

“Your phone number's not in it.” Dream held it out to Hob, a smirk playing on his lips.

Hob just stared in surprise for a few seconds before chuckling in disbelief. Of all the people he would have expected to use a pickup line, Dream wasn’t one of them. He wasn’t complaining about receiving it, though.

He took Dream’s phone and began typing in his number. “Couldn’t wait, huh?” he said playfully. “You know I’m not just leaving, love. We’re still going to that park.” The endearment slipped out without Hob intending it to, and he snapped up his gaze to look at Dream’s reaction. Luckily Dream didn’t seem to mind.

“I enjoyed our conversation so much last night that I had forgotten to ask for your phone number. I would not risk it happening again,” Dream said as he took his phone back.

“I’m actually relieved to hear that,” Hob sheepishly tugged at his earlobe. “I’d been a bit worried that I was too knackered last night and might have made such a fool of myself. I enjoyed our time together too, and I’m glad I remember all of it now, even the embarrassing moments.”

“Oh make no mistake, you were undoubtedly knackered last night,” Dream said with fond amusement. “But I never once thought you were a fool.” He pressed something on his phone and Hob heard his ringtone coming from the living room. “And now you have my number as well.”

Hob grinned. “Am I supposed to follow the three-day-rule and wait three days before calling you?”

“Already planning a second date when the first one isn’t even done yet?” Dream repeated Hob’s words from last night.

“And a third, if you've got no objections,” Hob raised his eyebrows playfully.

“Oh?” Dream straightened up and took a step closer. “And what third date activities do you have in mind?” His gaze lowered and slowly climbed back up, scanning Hob’s body until their eyes met again.

Hob felt goosebumps prickle on his skin as if Dream were actually touching him. He wet his lips with his tongue, catching how Dream’s eyes followed the movement. “I've got a few activities in mind, yeah. Though I don't know if I wanna wait until three dates.”

“Is that so?” A smirk pulled at the corner of Dream’s mouth as he took another step closer, his voice dropping to a low rumble. “Tell me, what do you desire?”

Hob swallowed. “You can't just say things like that with that voice.”

“What voice?” Dream took another step and he was near enough now that Hob could see how soft his eyelashes looked.

“Last night, you said something…” Hob reached up and traced with light fingers the star patterns on Dream's sweater, near his neckline, his shoulders, because if he didn't touch Dream in some way he might just implode.

“We both said a great deal of things last night.”

“You said…” Hob lifted his hand to Dream's chin, his thumb sweeping softly just under the bottom lip. “If this is still what I wanted…” he stared into Dream’s eyes, his heart hammering in anticipation.

Dream surged forward and suddenly Hob was pressed back against the counter, Dream’s lips against his.

A surprised—and very pleased—groan slipped out of Hob, his hands flying to cup Dream’s face.

Dream’s hands were on the counter, Hob caged in his arms. And damn if Hob didn't feel a certain way about that.

Hob could have lived forever in this moment, the soft slide of their tongues, the warmth of Dream’s body against his. But Dream’s mouth brushed down his jawline and onto his neck, clever lips and tongue making his blood run hotter.

Hob could only whimper and throw his head back to give Dream more access. He buried his hands in Dream’s hair, soft midnight threading through his fingers. Dream nipped at his sensitive flesh, and Hob’s hips twitched of their own accord.

Dream made a pleased hum and moved his kisses upwards. “My bedroom is nearby, unless you are partial to the couch. I could ask Sable to give us some privacy,” he said teasingly, his breath hot against Hob’s ear.

“Anywhere,” Hob gasped as Dream gently bit his earlobe. “Fuck, you can have me on the dining table.”

Dream chuckled and slid his hands from Hob’s waist to his stomach and up to his chest, fists clenching in the front of Hob's shirt. He pulled away just enough to look at Hob. “Nonsense. Gentleman, remember?” He stepped back and yanked Hob towards the bedroom with a force that was decidedly not gentlemanly.

Dream’s back slammed against the closed door as Hob pressed their lips and bodies together again, the few seconds they were apart becoming too unbearable. Dream managed to turn the knob behind him and they stumbled into the bedroom, only parting long enough to practically tear each other's sweaters off.

Hob fell backwards onto the bed, bringing Dream down with him. They were a tangle of limbs and sighs and groans, then Dream was straddling him, grinding his hips down and driving Hob near delirious with want.

Dream was breathing heavily above him, and Hob wanted more of it. Wanted to see this beautiful creature give in to pleasure.

He reached a hand between them and palmed at the hard bulge tenting Dream’s joggers.

Dream gave a cry of surprise and broke the kiss to gasp, and Hob wasted no time in freeing Dream’s cock from the confines of his clothes. He began a slow stroke, and Dream leaned forward to latch his mouth onto Hob’s neck, lavishing it with attention that sent more heat straight to Hob's groin.

Hob clenched his jaw—even as a moan escaped him—and sped up his hand around Dream’s length, precome slicking the way and causing Dream’s hips to twitch.

“Hob,” Dream breathed against the shell of his ear, and for a second Hob thought he would come just from hearing his name in that voice, with Dream’s hips erratically rolling above his cock through layers of fabric.

“Let go for me, love,” Hob’s voice sounded wrecked to his own ears.

He twisted his hand and Dream came with a whine, burying his face in Hob’s neck and spending all over Hob's hand. His hips were still stuttering when he pressed their foreheads together, his eyelids fluttering as he caught his breath.

Hob slowed his strokes to a stop, his other hand cupping Dream’s face. “Good?” he asked gently, fond and teasing.

Dream pulled away to meet Hob’s gaze, and it was enough to melt Hob’s grin off his face as he saw the intensity in those blue eyes.

Dream shifted to move further backwards, and before Hob knew what was happening, Dream had positioned himself between Hob’s parted legs and pulled down the sweatpants to reveal Hob’s straining cock.

Hob couldn't look away, anticipating Dream’s long fingers wrapped around him, and so he yelped when Dream used his mouth instead, the soft heat enveloping Hob and setting his nerves on fire. Hob’s eyes fell shut, his elbows trembling as he leaned back on the mattress.

Dream worked him slowly, taking him in inch by torturous inch as his tongue swirled in ways that left Hob breathless and squirming and doing his very best not to thrust into Dream’s sinful mouth.

Hob sank further down Dream’s throat, and his arms finally gave out as he felt Dream swallow around him. His head hit the pillow and he clenched his hands into the sheets, a wounded groan reverberating in his chest.

“Dream… Dream… Fuck—” his hips jerked upwards when he felt a light graze of teeth on the underside of his cock. His thighs were trembling, and desperate moans laced with Dream’s name kept slipping past his lips.

Dream hummed around him and moved his hands to stroke the inside of Hob's thighs, all at once soothing and fueling the fire that was very quickly pooling low in Hob’s belly. Dream bobbed his head up and down languidly, and it was all too much and not nearly enough.

“Please,” Hob sobbed. His entire body felt aflame, and he couldn't take another second of it even as he wanted it to last forever.

Dream took him down to the hilt and swallowed repeatedly, his fingernails raking lightly along Hob’s thighs.

Hob arched his back and came with a garbled cry, unable to stop the tremors running through him.

Dream kept swallowing, making Hob thrash his head from side to side as he was flung higher and higher.

Hob must have blacked out for a second, because when he opened his eyes, Dream was looming over him with a satisfied smirk.

“Good?” Dream licked his bottom lip.

Hob was still panting, and it took a few seconds for enough oxygen to get into his brain for him to form words. “I'm so glad we did this today and not last night,” he said breathlessly. “No way in hell I'll forget this.”

Dream huffed out a laugh and nestled himself beside Hob, his face snuggled at the crook of Hob's neck, his hand idly drawing circles on Hob’s chest.

“You can stay the weekend, if you'd like.” Dream's voice was quiet, tinged with hesitance, as if Hob would ever say no to that while of sound mind and body.

Hob regained control of his limbs and wrapped an arm around Dream, turning to face him and pulling him closer. “Sounds perfect, love,” he rested his chin on Dream's hair. “Would give me more than enough time to get you back for what you just put me through.”

Dream chuckled low in his chest. “I would love to see you try, Hob Gadling.”

“Oh, I will.” Hob closed his eyes and let himself get lost in the even rhythm of their breathing, settling into their embrace as if they were always meant to fit in each other's arms.

—

Author's Note:

Thank you to @patchyegg87 for all the help with this fic! <3

—

(Dreamling Bingo Masterpost)

(Masterlist)

[thedeathlysallows]

Is It Over Now? (13)

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Aemma Velaryon; Aegon Targaryen x Aemma Velaryon

Summary: My hand was the one you reached for

Warnings: canon typical Targaryen incest. Stockholm Syndrome, infidelity, manipulative Aegon, discussion of character death. Smut, fingering, using murder as dirty talk, hand job, public sex.

Aemma's coin has finally flipped, but where will it land? Greatness or madness?

Tag list: @callsignwidow

You aren't sure how or when it happened, but it's as though something inside you snapped, slowly but surely shifted your love and loyalty from your mother to Aegon. All your plans, all the playing pretend melted away until it became your reality. When did that happen? When did you become so pathetic? Was it the abject horror of seeing Aemond loving another woman in Harrenhal? Or were you always this weak?

"You seem deep in thought." Aegon looks down at you, head tilted slightly so that the rubies of the Conqueror's crown glitter in the sunlight.

"I suppose," you respond dully.

He hums in annoyance before looking away abruptly. You aren't sure why he insists on walking with you through the gardens, but it was the one reprieve he allowed after your escape. You're kept under a smothering watch at all times now except for when Aegon fetches you for your daily walk. He never lets you go with guards. It has to be him, and you just don't understand it.

Annoyance rises in you, bitter and dark. "I don't understand!"

"What don't you understand?"

Lots of things. You don't understand lots of things, but you don't want to discuss the complicated relationship between the two of you, so you say, "You told Aemond to seduce the witch. Why? Why would you do that?"

Aegon tosses his head back and laughs. "Is that what the bastard told you? And he says I'm the degenerate one."

"Aegon, this isn't the time for jokes. I want the truth." You turn to him fully and he's struck suddenly by the fire in your eyes. It's been so long since he's seen it he thought you'd given up your spark completely.

But of course not.

Of course your fire is still there because his is still there.

Aegon still burns every second of every day for you. The two of you are the last flickering twin flames of Old Valeyria, meant to merge together and raze down everything standing in its way. He loves you, desires you, needs you more than Aemond possibly could.

"You want the truth, my little dragon?" He steps closer to you, following as you move away from him. "I'll give you the truth, but I want you to remember that it was I to do so... not Aemond."

You suck in a deep breath, overwhelmed by Aegon's presence crowding you against a tree. Rough bark bites into your exposed back and arms. Suddenly, the gauzy dress you chose this morning doesn't feel like it covers enough.

"Aemond would never lie to me," you eventually say.

"I see. Is that why he blamed me? All I told him was to keep the witch loyal to us. I don't give a single fuck about her happiness or comfort... but Aemond does, doesn't he?" Aegon traces his thumb across your bottom lip before continuing.

"Let me guess: he told you not to worry and that she could never compare. I've told Helaena the same about my whores. I suppose, in a round about way, it's the truth. She's kinder than them, more of a proper lady. She deserves better."

You want to strike out at Aegon, your palm itches for it, but you stay still. He pets you so gently, running his hands over your body in a comforting way that brings tears to your eyes. You want to ask him why he doesn't give her better if she deserves it, but you already know the answer.

You.

Aegon has spent years pining over you, spiraling when you were taken away like some sort of toy. He's a spoiled brat. You love him anyway... but you love Aemond as well.

"Is love enough?" Your voice comes out as barely a whisper.

"Enough for what?"

"Anything." For Aemond to be loyal, but you don't say it out loud.

Aegon knows what you want to say, but won't say. He knows you better than anyone. Maybe even better than you know yourself. "Love is enough for us if you'll allow it."

Your lips curl up in a wry smile. "You're being awfully sweet today, Your Majesty."

"Maybe it's because I see where my brother is failing and I decided I need to take this chance."

"Failing on your orders."

"Not my orders. I never told him to fuck her, but we both know that's what he's doing." Aegon presses his lips to yours, hot and persistent. "Don't you want revenge, little dragon?"

Yes.

Yes, you do want revenge.

You want blood and revenge and for this foreign anger inside you to end.

Aegon's lips trail from your lips to the column of your neck, teeth sinking into your skin every so often while his hands grip your waist. He grinds into you and you feel the delicious drag of his hard cock between your thighs. "I have plenty of information from the witch. So much that her life means nothing to me now. You could kill her if you wanted."

Kill her?

"H-have you ever killed anyone?" The idea makes you nervous, but it's hard to concentrate on those nerves when Aegon's hands are slowly bunching your dress around your waist.

"Yes. Would you like to hear about it?" He nips at your ear, chuckling darkly when you yelp. Two of his fingers circle your clit before dipping into your cunt and he moans when he finds you absolutely soaking wet.

You nod, letting out a little whimper. "Yes... please..."

"Mmm, good girl." Aegon pumps his fingers in and out of you at a punishing pace. "It's better than any drunken high, any fuck... it's... ah, fuck, yes..."

Aegon's head falls to your shoulder when your hand slips inside his trousers to stroke his length. You wrap a leg around his waist, silently begging him to go deeper.

"Oh, fuck," he breathes against your skin. "Such a good little whore for me. D'you like this? Like me fucking you in public?"

You do. You really, really do.

"Say it," he demands, wrapping a hand around your throat. "Say how much you like it."

"Aegon... please... I love it."

"Say you love me."

You nod. "I love you!"

Aegon's grin is almost terrifying when he says, "I want to watch you kill Alys Rivers."

The pleasure that had been building in the pit of your stomach crests and washes over the rest of you, leaving you to spasm around Aegon's thick fingers. He kisses you all over as he reaches his own orgasm, spilling into your hand.

"Good girl," Aegon whispers into your hair. "Fuck, you're so good for me. We need to remind Aemond how good you are, yeah?"

That's all you really want, you think to yourself. You just want to be good for the people who love you. That's all you ever wanted.

[shuuen-no-cimory]

Also of course, it ain't me if I don't crossover my current hyperfixation with my ultimate current hyperfixation. So... Degrees of Lewdity x ProjectMoon! (This post is full of me yapping as I explain each drawing, so I guess, be ready?)

First, I'll go hard with Whitney as R Corp. 4th Rabbit Team. The initial idea was that he reminds me so much of RHeath LMAO But eventually I love the idea because I think he'd go along with Myo well. Plus... Somehow imagining Whitney in Rabbit Team Hatchery shenanigans seems... Interesting.

Next is Eden. If anyone notice, I originally designed him based of 2 Abnos: Der Freischutz and Big Bird. Der Frei was, of course, a nod to his title as a Hunter, and a marksman as well. For Big Bird... Yeah definitely there's the Big Bird in DoL, yet I think temperance-wise, Eden does felt similar to Big Bird. A creature living in a forest, thinking they protect others by doing the action that definitely doesn't seems to be out of protection. As for RRH, oh think about this: Being hunted down while getting marked. One by a hunter, and another by a wolf. Oh isn't it just reminds me of something...? Right

Funny enough, before I designed the school LIs properly, I reimagined them as The City's feathers. "If they're living in the City and has to work with one Wing, which one they'll work on?" I've talked about R. Corp Whitney earlier so I'll talk about the others! Robin, L Corp. - I can imagine him with the pressing needs to survive under the weight of Bailey's rent ends up either being sent or signed himself up as an agent for L Corp. The Wing doesn't ask that much requirement as per Hokmah's story while the agent supposed to have a great pay (being a wing and all). Hence, I think he might work for L Corp. Sydney, K Corp. - The idea was that after graduating, Sydney might follow Sirris path in science. Being the obedient child she is (as we sees on the game before they get corrupted), she probably choose to do what Sirris might do hence her as K Corp. researcher. Oh anyway, truly this is just a fyi that doesn't seems to be related to anything, I reimagined Harper as Dongrang in this scenario, with the whole Teary-Thing problem exist. Oh, lucky enough for Sydney to help producing K Ampule that definitely just as seen in the canon Limbus story. Just saying. Kylar, W Corp. - This one actually a rather fun idea. This is set with the idea that Kylar work as the Clean Up Member, with parents that's definitely unaware with how their child work but nevertheless proud with him. They'd even use WARP Train solely to be sent off by Kylar each time, much to Kylar silent dismay. If only they know what Kylar has to clean up among the 6 seconds they went into the train... Read one of the reblog tag and yeah. It has to do with Love Town. And pretty much how Kylar had to regularly assemble his parents again and again each trip they made.

LCB! SYDNEY LET'S GOOOO!!!! This idea came as I made my LCB-esque ID Card for Sydney. The idea of LCB Sydney's background was that it's pretty much what happened in the game, but make it The City-esque and seen from Sydney's eyes. It's fun imagining her as a Dieci Fixer who was caught in a complicated issue which she rather dip out from as she hasn't fully grow the backbone to face it yet. Oh right, in this AU I reimagined Ivory as Abnormality and both Sydney and Kylar got their EGO. Sydney got their Longing Phase EGO (HE, Gloom) while Kylar got the Haunting Phase EGO (WAW, Wrath). I actually had a draft of how the EGO works and its gimmick but let's talk it later on lol

When Yield My Flesh event is up on Limbus, my head doing the funny by thinking, "Damn... Jun Wren sounds cool..." then I remember Tingtang exist like jfgdjfgbjd HE FITS BETTER AS TINGTANG WHY DIDN'T I THINK ABOUT IT ON A SIDE NOTE, I also had the thought on how Bailey MIGHT kills it as either a Kurokumo or a Middle. After all, Middle never forget... Just like how Bailey never forget your rent LOL

And last but not least: Sydney and Robin as L Corp. Agent! Robin will be a high Temperance agent which work for Safety Team, while Sydney is the high Fortitude, high Prudence Disciplinary Team Captain. Oh, if you do notice: I made Sydney's cross looks like Penitence EGO Weapon. It's actually based of this idea of how One Sin and WhiteNight's dynamic thematically fits Sydney the Faithful and Sydney the Fallen. The name of both Abnos' EGO Set-- "Penitence" and "Paradise Lost" respectively, both fits the image of each Sydneys. Hence, I draw them in both EGO Sets!

[i-hate-liking-batman]

20 Questions for Fic Writers

I was tagged by @yersina ! Warning that most of my fic links are Ao3 account locked!

1. How many works do you have on ao3?

13! They're all different lengths and about half of them are complete? And only more to come because I joined another big bang...

2. What's your total ao3 word count?

It's crazy because I only started really getting into writing in the past 3 years and I hit 151,653 words! I'm very proud to be here! I remember when writing 40k in a year seemed impossible for me.

3) What are your top five fics by kudos?

Haha this is more of me having one very popular fic and the rest are neck and neck, but here is the order! "Hello, Time Goes Quickly", "Fate Led Us to You (It Was Worth the Wait)", "I'll Take Care of Your Roots So Grow Tall, My Love", "Time to be Human", and "The Trials of Loving"!

4) What fandoms do you write for?

I've written all over the place, and some I won't come back to writing for even if I still read! I've written for D. Grayman, Marvel, Mob Psycho 100, Genshin, My Hero Academia, Welcome to Demon School Iruma-kun, and The S Classes that I Raised! I mostly write for the last two!

5) Do you respond to comments? why or why not?

I actually always respond to comments! Every time. I make it a point to respond to every comment I get on my fics. I just get so excited knowing someone cared enough to comment, and want the reader to know I see them!

6) What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

I don't really write angsty endings so I'll just go with angstiest in general! I'd say my S Class Percy Jackson au, "The Trials of Loving" is the one!

7) What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Ooooo I have a lot of happy endings! And they're pretty happy if I do say so myself. Maybe my Percy Jackson au for Sctir "The Trials of Loving" again lol. It ends on their wedding day!

8) Do you get hate on fics?

Nope! I have gotten spam though rip. At most it's commenters who are confused so I explain, but my commenters are lovely people!

9) Do you write smut?

... I have one smut fic and it's my most popular one. It's 30k and only like 5k is smut, and all of it was hard to write lol. But it must be done! For anyone curious it is in fact "Hello, Time Goes Quickly" lol.

10) Do you write crossovers?

My first fic was actually a crossover fic! It's inspired by liketolaugh 's crossover fic "Cosmic Composite" which is an Avenger's and D. Grayman crossover. Everyone should check out their fics! One of my favorites is.... so many actually so here's a link to their PJO and Avenger's crossover: The Blue Food Project

11) Have you ever had a fic stolen?

I don't think so, but I don't really check for that, so it's possible!

12) Have you ever had a fic translated?

No, but it would be great if that happened!

13) Have you ever cowritten a fic before?

..I have tried and failed because I don't have a consistent writing schedule. I write 10k in 2 months and then go off the grid for 6 lol.

14) What's your all time favorite ship?

Oooo this is tricky!!! Maybe Sung Hyunjae x Han Yoojin from the S Classes that I Raised! I love them a lot. NEVERMIND MAIRUMA LATEST CHAPTER CHANGED ME LOVE TRIO FOREVER!!!!! (Welcome to Demon School Iruma-kun ship with Iruma Suzuki, Clara Valac, and Asmodeus Alice)

15) What's the wip you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

My Welcome to Demon School fic "I'll Take Care of Your Roots So Grow tall, My Love," I had so much fun with brainstorming ideas there is no set ending... I'll update it eventually though!

16) What are your writing strengths?

I'm confident of my characterization of characters! It's why I usually can't do other POVs for other characters. I need to feel confident in how I understand them to write for them.

17) What are your writing weaknesses?

Writing in detail. I like getting to the point, because too long sentences in my writing aren't interesting lol. So sometimes there are images in my head I don't describe enough for readers to picture what I'm imagining.

18) Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

Fun! I just want to make sure I use it right.

19) First fandom you wrote for?

Whoops I already answered this but D. Grayman and Avengers! For personal writing it's My Hero Academia.

20) Favourite fic you've ever written?

Oooo this is also a hard question because I don't read my fics lol. Probably "The Schoolmaster Must Die"! It's a School for Good and Evil au with the characters of "The S Classes that I Raised" and I had a lot of fun with it even if it's not close to done.

This was so much fun to answer! Tagging @frill-s , @enmu-redacted, and @meow-meow-magical!

[spaghettificationandpretzels]

Sinus Rhythm

This is the last part of my Sean Wallace childhood friends to lovers anthology series.

No obligation to read tags: @darklydeliciousdesires @lovemissyhoneybee @daydreaming-belle

Contains: Injury, medical inaccuracies, fluff.

1.4K words

There are some things Sean can't forget.

They didn't know if the car accident was a planned hit or really just wrong place, wrong time; all they knew was that Sean's ribs were broken so badly they needed to be set with plates and screws, that he missed shredded lungs by the miracles of millimetres and that he had a concussion that would require serious monitoring.

There was an anxiety you couldn't name, and the smell of disinfectant and sickness blended together to form a thick patina on the walls that made your skin crawl. The doctor wouldn't let you into his room to wait with him, that was for immediate family only, Billy told you he get you the moment Sean opened his eyes. The ticking clock in the waiting room seemed to mock you, the seconds passing into minutes, which eventually bled into hours until you took off your jacket to use as a pillow and curled into a ball to get some sleep on the rock hard chair; it was going to be a long day.

****

When Sean awoke, he only had a vague idea of what was happening, all he really knew was that he was in a hospital and that his side ached like he had done ten rounds with an ogre. There was a man sitting by his bed he almost knew, like his identity was dangling too far away to reach but then again, everything felt like that right now.

He must have been someone because the second Sean asked who he was, the man paled and rushed to get a doctor. The doctors told him it was post-traumatic amnesia, that in twenty-four hours, he should be back to normal, then there was a click from one of the machines attached to him, and a pleasant warmness lulled him back to sleep.

When he woke again, the name he now knew was his brother was still with him, sipping on a coffee as he read the paper. "Your brain still all empty?"

He shrugged. "Mostly." He looked around, it was a nice room, one only the wealthy could afford. He could see people passing by through the window along one wall, the mix of nurses and doctors growing boring, that was until a woman walked by in civilian clothes, and his heart rate monitor beeped just a bit faster. "Who is that?"

Billy looked up from his newspaper at his tone and chuckled when he saw your tired face. "That's y/n. You don't remember her?"

Sean shook his head. "No, but she's the most exquisite creature I've ever laid my eyes on. Please don't tell me she's your girlfriend?"

He held back a laugh, an evil idea forming in his mind. "No mate, I'll go get her, try not to pop a stitch."

He watched through the window as Billy talked to you, your face awash with so many emotions and he was overcome with the urge to wipe away the wetness that was gathering in your eyes. He did his best to straighten up as you walked in, the doctors had his bed in the raised position to take pressure off his ribs, and he was grateful that it meant you weren't looking down at him when you sat on the edge of the bed. "Billy said you can't remember shit."

His brain was screaming at him to say something, but he was so struck by your beauty that he found himself rendered mute. "Sean."

He blinked. "Yes, but as I'm sure my brother told you, I'll be back to normal by tomorrow. Now who are you?"

You nodded. "Billy didn't…" A glance at his brother showed he was barely holding back a smile. "Who do you think I am?" You didn't want to say it was payback for the fright he gave you, but it was.

He grinned. "Well, you must be my girlfriend." You had to be, there was no other reason for this strange feeling in his chest.

You shook your head, and a lump formed in his throat. "We've been best friends since we were six." No, that couldn't be right, there had to be something more, especially when your hand linked in his and it made him feel like the whole world was sucked away. "You're stone off your gourd and hurt. You'll remember everything in the morning then you can go back to giving me shit for my taste in men."

You turned to Billy and raised your eyebrows. "Can I speak to you outside for a moment?"

He stood up and left but as you went to do the same, Sean stopped you, grabbing your hand and holding on for dear life. "Please don't go, I don't want you to leave."

You squeezed his hand and smiled. "I'll be back in five minutes."

He let you go with a frown and you went outside to talk to Billy. "I get it, but really dude?"

He grinned. "He almost died, now's a good a time as any."

You sighed. "We were just happy being cowards, why do you need to interfere?"

He shrugged. "Because I don't want sister in law I can't stand. Mother's going to push him to marry sooner or later, better it be to the woman he's been in love with since he was a teenager."

Your eyes went wide. "It's really been that long? I thought…." It grew obvious Sean had feelings for you months ago, but you had both been dancing around it, for what reason it was hard to say.

He slapped a hand on your shoulder. "Yep, now get back in there before he hobbles out to get you. I'll go home and get you a change of clothes so you can freshen up."

He raced away before you could say more, and you returned to Sean's bedside with a sigh. "What do you want to know?"

He grinned as best he could. "Everything."

****

Things came back in slowly, fading through the fogginess of his mind until the memories felt real. But Sean didn't stop you from retelling all your favourite stories from your friendship if only to hear them from your perspective. The heart rate monitor's beeping was infuriating, the flash of sound letting the whole world know each time he had a rush of emotion. It went on for hours, Billy sitting guard outside to make sure no one walked in to interrupt, he even shooed away their mother.

But the more the amnesia wore off, the more it became clear to him how close he was to dying. He wasn't a man to take things for granted, not after everything he had to do to get his London back in his family's hands and yet, you still remained unaware of his feelings, even though he caught you looking at him when you thought he wasn't paying attention. He took a deep breath, unwilling to betray his nervousness with the audible untick of his heart. "Y/n, I have to tell you something."

You knew it was coming, the way he was looking at you made that much clear. "Yeah?"

He took your hand in his, his thumb drifting over the backs of your fingers as he gathered himself. "I have been lying to you." He took another deep breath. "The last thing I thought about before I passed out was that I was never going to get to tell you the truth and I must remedy that now."

You held up a hand to stop him, placing your hand on his cheek before leaning down to kiss him. He accepted, his lips soft as he linked his fingers in yours. "You don't need to say anything, I know, I love you too."

He kissed you again, firmer this time, his teeth nipping at your lower lip as you fight the urge to grab at him. But the second he went to do more, his side lit up like someone had stuck his ribs on the stove. He did his best to hide it, but you pulled back with a smile. "We should stop."

He was positively miffed, like someone had yanked his favourite toy away. "The second I'm back in fighting shape we are going to.."

You shook your head to stop him. "I know."

He grinned and slowly shifted across the bed so you could sit next to him on his uninjured side. "You can stay here tonight, with that we're paying them they can't complain."

You pressed a kiss to his cheek. "I'd like that."

Fin