#hob: yeah we should do it again some time :)

[lenreli]

i still feel your touch in my dream [dreamling]

[AO3]

M, 8.8k. Asking your best friend to be your fake boyfriend when you're straight is a foolproof plan. Or so Dream thinks.

-

“You’re―what,” Hob says, confused as he rubs the bridge of his nose. “Can you repeat that?” Well, maybe confused doesn’t cover it. Flummoxed, maybe. Bewildered. Definitely bewildered. 

“I want you to be my plus-one to the wedding,” Hob nods, getting that part easily. “And since you’re one of few people I trust, and as my best friend, we should pretend to be together. To piss off Desire,” he says slowly. Hob’s brows raise. 

Then he sighs, “I get the plus-one, I’m for the pissing off your sibling with―I’m just. You’re straight,” Hob says, hand chopping down between them. “Dream, you’re―did you forget that? Suddenly?” Hob’s voice gets very high-pitched at the end, making Dream quash a smile. 

“I do know, yes,” he says with a nod, “but it has been said that sexuality is fluid, and I’m quite frankly annoyed at Desire disparaging me for being the token straight,” he puts in air-quotes, “whenever I meet up with my siblings.”  

Hob opens his mouth, then shuts it, looking contemplative, “oh yeah, I could see that getting nasty,” Hob mutters under his breath. And it definitely has, Desire constantly poking and prodding him until there’s violence. Or he walks off. “And the wedding is―the weekend? At some fancy hotel or something, right?” Dream nods. Hob scratches an eyebrow with a nail, then sighs deeply. “Better be good food there.” 

Dream finally smiles, overjoyed even as Hbo stares into the distance intently, probably working out his work and whatnot. “Thank you very much, Hob,” he says, rocking on the heels of his feet. “Now, about your suit―” 

Hob groans and looks to the ceiling, “I have savings! I can afford a new one! Not like, fifty-thousand suits like you have somewhere, but fancy enough,” Hob waves him off. 

-

 “A taxi? Couldn’t afford a limo?” Hob asks once he’s inside said taxi, Dream giving him a look as he hangs up the garment bag on the handle inside, Hob’s own suitcase stowed in the back, along with his. “Couldn’t resist,” Hob says once he meets his eye, grinning. Dream crosses his arms as the taxi starts to move.

“Maybe if you showed me your suit I would’ve gotten a limo,” he retorts dryly. Dream stares intently at the black garment bag, hoping that unknown x-ray powers would appear. “If it’s some sort of monstrosity, for my sister’s wed―” 

“It’s not! And it matches yours! There’s black,” Hob defends with a shrug, and Dream huffs, placated. 

Hob gets out his phone, meanwhile Dream gets out a book, happy to spend time with each other in silence. At least, until― 

“Are you really sure you wanna do this?” Hob asks, once again. Dream’s eyes go to the ceiling, annoyed with Hob’s constant pestering about this. “I just don’t want you freaking out!” Hob says. “We’re gonna have to kiss! And―well, kissing, mainly.” 

“I’ll be fine,” he says with a sigh. Hob gives him a skeptical glance. “Even with not liking it, I know how to act,” he reminds Hob, and there’s a split-second of an emotion he can’t recognise on the other’s face, which gives him a spike of irritation, not knowing what it means, or why Hob hid it so quickly. 

“That’s true,” Hob sighs, hunching on himself as he scratches an eyebrow with a thumb. “I just hope you’ve mentally prepared yourself for the kissing and how touchy-feely I’m going to be.” 

“It’s more tiring work to deal with a whole wedding than that,” he says, and he’s mainly used to Hob in his space, legs brushing or Hob picking grass out of his hair, the other’s touches always pleasant. And never draining, like dealing with a loud wedding for example. “I hope you’ve prepared not to fall in love with me by the end of it, at least,” he says flippantly, not serious in the slightest.

Hob slides down the seat and looks out the tiny strip of the window not covered by his garment bag, “don’t worry, I won’t be.”

Dream, inexplicably, is cut deep by it.

-

The White Lotus is on the beach, the weather grey and dreary. Despair, like him, probably favours it, especially for her wedding. And he’s pretty sure they’re not going to go outside much, the schedule only allowing a dinner tonight, which they have to be dressed up for, then the wedding the day after. 

Even with the fake-boyfriend with Hob being there, he’s at least happy with the other man being there, always finding comfort with him. The shower cuts off and Dream blinks, stretched out on their one bed. His suit, all black, is itchy. Or maybe it’s because of some other reason as he waits, anxiety creeping slowly as he thinks of seeing his siblings, the dining room full of people which they passed on the way to their room― 

The bathroom door opens, and Dream sits up, breathless from the sudden movement as he scrutinises Hob’s suit. Pinstriped trousers and jacket, white shirt and then a blue tie. Though, the thing that catches his eye more is the eyeliner, making the other’s brown eyes even more intense. “Acceptable,” he says, swallowing as Hob smiles. “Eyeliner?” He asks. 

Hob shrugs and sits next to him, warmth pressing into his side, “we are together, so we should match,” Hob says with a smile. 

“Good thinking,” he nods. “Thank you for coming,” he breathes, anxiety dwindling as Hob leans into him. 

“Of course,” Hob says quietly, then eventually an ah, and Dream looks over as Hob gets something from an inside pocket of his jacket. “Got these for you, since you probably lost yours under all the black in your suitcase,” he says with a smile. 

Earplugs, the background-noise cancelling kind that he probably left at home, in the bag he usually carries. “Or the kind I accidentally left at home,” he replies with a huff, and Hob gives him an even brighter smile as he takes the earplugs, putting them in his trouser pocket. 

-

“Wait, how many times?” Hob asks on their way to the dining room. 

“This is her sixth marriage,” he explains. “Desire keeps making jokes about Despair―well,” he shrugs, “there’s a betting pool between my other siblings as to how long her current soon-to-be-wife will live,” he says quietly, Hob’s eyebrows raising higher. 

Hob lets out a quiet whistle, face baffled, “and? What did you bet on?” 

Dream sniffs, jaw setting, “of course, I’d never stoop so low,” he says as they stop outside the dining room. Hob blinks, clearly not buying it, “a year, at least,” he whispers between them.

“Wow,” Hob says, countenance showing nothing of what he thinks as he glances at the dining room. “Ready, partner?” Hob asks, an arm going around his waist, and Dream swallows at the warmth radiating from the other man. 

Dream sighs, then nods, walking past tables of people until they reach the table closest to where the brides are ― the family table, with his siblings, his and Hob’s names emblazoned on cards as they sit down. 

“Gadling? What is Gadling doing here?” Desire says across from them, tone judgemental as they stare at Hob, and Dream scowls, Hob’s hand still on his back as Hob smiles pleasantly. “Well?” They demand, glittery red eyeshadow sparkling in the light, matching their lips. 

“I’m his partner,” Hob says simply, and the table stops, everyone else’s eyes on swiveling to them. He can feel it, even as Hob’s other hand caresses his jaw, turning him to look at Hob, brown eyes kind― 

There’s gasps, but everything else seems to fall away, the kiss chaste―but luxurious, hands scratching through his hair as Hob pulls him closer. Hob’s tongue slowly presses into his mouth, teeth biting into his lips and he shudders, can only focus on the way that Hob tastes of chocolate, of the stubble scratching hard-soft against him, insides tingling and light-headed as he holds onto the other’s thighs. 

The kiss ends with another press of lips, and Dream hears himself make a small sound in protest, wanting more. 

… Wanting more? Dream blinks, looking over to see Desire gaping―which he also feels like doing, if it didn’t feel like― 

His atoms were being rewritten, can barely hear everything else over too much and not enough. Hob’s satisfied? He can only hear because of putting his head on the other’s shoulder, feeling him speak more than hearing it, and Hob’s hand on his neck, softly stroking the skin. 

Dream’s unwilling to let go, sounds slowly filtering back to him in a cacophony of noise, which makes him pull away, sitting back in his seat as he takes out the earplugs Hob got him, putting them in and then sighing as he only hears the table, Hob talking with Death. 

Hob’s hand is still near him, can feel the heat of it on the back of his chair, pressing into him, thumb rubbing up and down his shoulder blade and Dream’s lips tingle. Even the joy at seeing Desire still gaping is muted under the way he would rather be kissing Hob again.

-

“You good?” Hob asks, snapping Dream of of his daze between courses and speeches with Hob’s other hand coming up to his cheek, can feel a thumb trace his cheekbone as Hob smiles, brows showing worry. “Not too much?” 

“No,” he manages, and Hob slides his chair closer, legs brushing and Dream almost resists the way he wants to nuzzle into Hob’s hand ― until he does, and he can hear Hob’s small chuckle, bright and making him relax even more into it. 

“Good,” Hob whispers, brown eyes soft and fond, affection clear to see and Dream’s throat closes up at it. Hob sighs and presses their foreheads together, and Dream’s lips tingle at their breaths, at the odd feeling of wanting Hob to kiss him again. Can feel it building up, the yearning for it. 

A small, miniscule part of him still thinks it was a fluke, that he’s― 

“You don’t mind?” Hob asks, lips brushing, and Dream’s heart jumps into his throat. 

“No,” he says after a breath, not wanting to be too eager, even though he is. 

The kiss is soft, indulgent and chaste, and Dream melts into it, remembering he has hands as he holds onto the other’s waist with one, the other petting at the soft-rough of Hob’s beard. It deepens and Dream swallows down a shiver, feeling like the air in the room is rapidly disappearing with how all-consuming it is.

There’s vague sounds of disgust, but Dream doesn’t register it, can only press into Hob more as a thumb touches his bottom lip, the rough drag of it he can feel down to his toes― 

And suddenly, it ends and Dream takes a deep breath, blinking as he looks at the waiters, bringing them another course of dinner, leaving him achingly bereft of Hob. 

Not a fluke, he thinks distantly. Dream wants to―for Hob to touch him more, searing hands and soft lips, wants more than just the arm on the back of his chair, Hob easily going back to eating and talking, and not at all like he’s changed everything Dream thought he knew about himself.

-

Dream wakes up the next morning, feeling like yesterday was a fever dream.

Or that may be because of Hob, who runs searing hot. And he’s holding onto, forehead pressed against the other’s back, sheets bunched down to his lower half as he touches Hob’s waist, skin soft. And hot. And, even just like this, Dream thinks of kissing the back in front of him, of waking Hob up with them, who’d smile and― 

Gently, he slips out of the bed and walks into the bathroom, shutting the door. 

Taking a deep breath, he sits on the cold tiles and rubs his face. So he may not be as straight as he thought, however it’s still terrifying. Especially with Hob, who’s―his best friend! 

Getting up, he moves to the basin, noticing his heart beating quickly. And. Fuck. Why is he hard?! Muffling a groan, he washes his face with cold water.

Maybe a cold shower would be more effective. 

-

“I have an idea,” Hob says, looking away from him as a hand tugs his ear, and Dream sits on the bed. “But I just, it’s silly―” 

Dream blinks, considering. Hob knows him, and he trusts Hob. With far more then he’s even beginning to realise. “Okay.” 

Hob’s head whips around, eyes wide, “you didn’t even hear my―” Hob wheezes out, sitting closer to him. “It’s―” the other’s loss for words, red on his face makes Dream confused. Though the hand on his shoulder makes him less so. “Because,” Hob whispers, and Dream swallows a sound as he’s gently pushed onto the bed, nails scratching up and down his throat―with Hob’s breath on the other side. 

Suddenly the cold shower doesn’t seem like enough as Hob bites into his neck, and he shivers, staring unseeingly at the ceiling as Hob licks and nibbles at his throat. The other’s stubble is pleasant, makes him arch up into it as Hob sucks at his skin. Gasping, he holds onto Hob’s shoulder, body tingling as a final lick gets placed over the stinging marks. 

“Not too much?” Hob asks, voice rough and eyes dark as they stare down at him, fingers still lightly caressing his neck. 

Heart racing, Dream gulps down a―whine, pathetic and needy as he shakes his head. Can feel the sting of it, the blood rushing towards the marks, towards his face. Doesn’t want to speak, with only more and yes on his mind. Especially if it involves Hob’s gaze so heavy, almost palpable on him.

Hob licks his lips and Dream can only watch, transfixed as Hob gives him a once-over―and he’s glad that his black shirt and pants are loose enough to hide the start of an erection. 

“I’ll―I need to get ready,” Hob says with a bright smile, walking off to the bathroom in the next breath. Dream inhales deeply, closing his eyes as a hand comes up to cover the bruises, heart beating out of his chest as he wonders if he’ll even survive the day. 

-

Dream’s focus throughout the day is shot, to put it mildly. Even as he stands with his siblings as the vows are made and papers are signed, the bright red mark on his neck aches and itches, showing close to his collar, his suit out for another day. Desire gaped at the sight of it, while Hob just smiled and kissed his cheek, the hand on his waist leaving as Hob sits down in the aisle, pinstriped suit on. 

After ― so many pictures, he’s happy to sit down next to Hob, groaning as he finally gets a chance to rest his legs. And putting his head onto Hob’s shoulder, sighing in relief as Hob laughs and pats his hair. 

“All done?” Hob asks as he’s pulled closer, the pleasant warmth of the other man making him relax even more, uncaring of the chaos around them of people talking and congratulations to the newly-wedded couple. 

“Had to stop Delirium from going into the ocean, at least until after lunch,” he mumbles. “And Desire kept bringing attention to―” my hickey, he doesn’t say, can feel his face heating just thinking that. 

“Poor baby,” Hob coos, kissing his hair softly―and there’s only a skipped beat of Dream’ heart as Hob guides his face up with a hand, more pecks against his forehead, down to nose. The soft, chaste kiss on his lips makes his insides flutter. 

Groaning, Dream hides his face back under Hob’s head, putting his arms around warm shoulders as he tries to not let his brain focus on the entirely new way he appreciates Hob in his suit, the hot rush of seeing him in it once they got dressed in the morning. 

-

The rest of the day seems to fly by ― the time creeping closer to them leaving. To Hob no longer having a constant arm on the back of his chair, or around his waist. 

A press of lips to his hair, a kiss that feels like all the air is sucked out of the dining room, indulgent and makes him light-headed. He can only follow uselessly as the kiss ends, and he shivers as fingers leave his hair. 

Dream is in a daze, has never been punch-drunk off of kisses as he doesn’t remember eating his lunch, or dessert. Can only think of the tingling of his lips, the pleasant scratch of Hob’s beard and gentle hands. Though, there was that moment of embarrassment, clarity as Hob put a spoonful of dessert in front of him, citrus-y in comparison to the chocolate mousse that he got. 

Lunch done, people leave or split off into groups, going to the beach or nearby bars. Hob and Dream end up sitting outside, people watching. “Aren’t you going to go in?” Dream asks eventually, though he would miss the warmth around his waist. 

“I’m good,” Hob says with a shrug, using his free hand to point out a group of people .”Polycule or messy divorce?” He asks. 

Dream stares at the group, two of the people talking intensely, the others watching on in worry. “One or two of them want out of the polycule, obviously,” Dream replies dryly. 

“Ah,” Hob says, gently nudging him to look at a waiter, strained customer-service-smile in place as he’s talked to by a particularly passionate customer. “He’s totally gonna get a special for this one.” 

“Disgusting, but likely true,” he says with a scrunch of his nose, making Hob laugh and lean into him. Dream’s heart races. And something springs to mind―that Hob’s only been the one giving kisses. Pulse in his throat, he presses his lips to Hob’s, can still feel the laughter as Hob stills, brown eyes shocked. 

Running off instinct, he presses forward, putting his hands onto Hob’s cheek, stubble soft under his hands. Hob lets out a small sound and returns the kiss slowly, even as the arm around his waist moves, nails digging into his spine, and Dream swallows a gasp, brain full of static pleasure. 

His pleasure only doubles as Hob’s free hand sits on his neck ― fingers pressing into the mark that was left, Dream can’t help the shudder, the overwhelming need to get even closer, wants to crawl into Hob’s lap as Hob’s lips move down, teeth scraping against his chin and down― 

“Ugh, really? I just got my appetite back,” a voice says in disgust, making Dream overtly aware of Hob at the edge of his jaw ― and Desire in front of them, a metaphorical splash of cold water. 

Hob breathes against his skin, which he can feel heating up at his sibling’s gaze, and Dream keeps his eyes somewhere on Desire’s red one-piece, bejewelled and bedazzled, skimpy and costing a small fortune, probably ― and Dream bites his tongue at the smile from Hob that he can feel before they part. “We weren’t doing anything,” Dream says eventually, voice rougher than it was before. 

Desire rolls their eyes and breezes past, saying ― something. Which he doesn’t catch due to the redness of Hob’s lips as he watches Desire walk by, an eyebrow raised. 

-

Usually, Dream would already be back into his hotel room by the time the sun sets ― but finds it hard to leave Hob’s side, the casual affection he experiences. And Hob doesn’t expect him to join in with a conversation as he talks with some of his sibling’s friends, a hand around his waist or on his shoulder as Hob talks about his job as a professor. 

“Sorry,” Hob says bashfully after they’ve left, apparently going back home. “Should we get room service, or dinner here again?” 

Dream blinks, can vaguely feel hunger underneath the pleasant haze of Hob’s attention. “I saw an Indian place on this road,” he offers, feeling pride as Hob brightens. “When we were in the taxi.” 

“Brilliant!” Hob says enthusiastically, close―and Dream freezes at the sudden kiss, hands cradling his face. 

He can feel Hob’s smile, his joy as he’s pulled closer, Hob’s body warm against him, and he relaxes slowly into it, grabbing onto Hob’s pinstriped jacket. And he thinks of Hob reacting like this outside of this hotel, heart in his throat as Hob ends the kiss with a lighter one. 

“Let’s go!” Hob tugs him along, and Dream can only walk forward. “No offence to your sister, but her food choices were certainly choices,” Hob says under his breath. 

Dream chuckles as they walk out of the hotel, “yes, her taste is quite… bland,” he grimaces. “Aside from desserts. She does love those,” he nods. 

“I need some complex spice or I might just go insane,” Hob mutters, making Dream smile as he looks down the road, this time Dream tugging Hob into going across the road. 

-

The next morning, Dream wakes up in Hob’s arms, can feel a forehead against the back of his hair. And they’re leaving― 

Which means no more kisses, no more of the casual affection, or this, Hob’s body searing and wrapped around him, and Dream feels heavy. 

Opening an eye, he sees they still have a few more hours before checkout. 

So he ignores it, putting his hands on the arms around him, and even with all that he’s recently learned, he shuts his eyes and lets the time pass. 

Hob’s leg between his ― the way Hob groans, arms wrapping tightly around him, and Dream swallows, worries that the other man’s waking up―but Hob just lets out a sigh. Hob’s head is now closer to his neck, can feel the breath on the back of it as Hob stretches behind him with a groan, their feet tangling. 

And a hardness against his lower back, only briefly. Dream’s mouth dries, skin feeling too-warm and too-tight suddenly, not helped by Hob’s body. Body warm and somehow right, and Dream stops thinking before that sentence ends.

-

Hob and Dream live together, have been roommates for years, fitting into each other’s places easily. And coming back from the weekend, there’s an oddness, a wrench thrown into the works. Hob is more closed-off, not as affectionate― 

And Dream can’t stop thinking about the weekend. It probably needs to be called The Weekend, capitalised. A moment between how they were before, and how they are after. 

Before, he felt no weirdness, stepping into Hob’s room, seeing Hob at his desk, marking papers in a ratty pair of sweatpants and shirt. Wouldn’t even register the bed as he steps, not thinking of Hob’s warmth, thinking of breath against the back of his neck as they slept. 

“Hob,” he says quietly, resisting the urge to fidget, still smelling of smoke and sweat from a club. A gay one.

Just to know that it’s not some Hob-shaped thing, these feelings―which, some of them are. Even with the kissing being good from these other men, the casual way he went about, almost detached and scientific, wanting to quantify it. This one’s beard didn’t scratch as nicely as Hob’s, that man’s eyes weren’t brown enough, this other man’s hands didn’t hold him as nicely as―Hob hums, still going through his work, and even with knowing that Hob won’t react terribly, he works through the tentative fear with a deep breath, stepping closer.

“I don’t think I’m straight,” he says, and that makes Hob stop his work. There’s heartbeats of silence, Dream’s heart racing at what he said, making it something real. 

Hob puts his pen down, still not facing him. “Oh.”

Dream swallows, feeling a bit confident now that nothing’s happened with what he said, “I went to that club you go to sometimes. It was nice,” he offers. Of course, he doesn’t says that you may have ruined me for all other men before I even knew or something else that would ruin their friendship. 

“I’m happy for you,” Hob’s tone is odd―indescribable, and Dream frowns, walking closer until he leans next to Hob. At this, Hob looks up to him and smiles, “really, I am,” he says, voice more matching to his words. “And thank you for telling me.” 

Dream tilts his head, relaxing against the desk, “how did you realise?” He asks, hit with the knowledge that over their many years of friendship, he’s never learnt. 

Hob shrugs, going back to his marking. “When I was teenager. It was like getting slapped over the head with it,” he says with a laugh. “One of those dramatic moments when you see―well, you know.” 

He’s happy to note that Hob’s arm presses into his waist, the careless press of before, that Dream now appreciates in another way, “and figuring out your sexuality?” 

“Well, that took a while. But honestly, it’s different for everyone,” Hob rests his head on his hand, pen tapping against his cheek, “no pressure from me for you to figure it out. Even just being not straight or queer, or feeling an affinity to any of the labels, or not. Whatever!” 

Dream nods, sliding up onto the table, pulling up the papers as he does so. “How goes academia today?” 

Hob groans, resting his head on the one he’s marking. “I’ve read through two AI essays. I wish they knew more!”

-

Dream wakes up, sheets tangled and blood rushing, reaching across his bed for― 

A Hob from dreams, dark eyes staring down at him, and he groans, pulling the sheet over his head. His cock aches, leaking as he shuts his eyes, trying to keep the remnants of the wet dream in sight. The pressure of Hob’s hands trailing down his body, the long-healed bruise on his neck, more being bitten onto him. 

He can’t remember the last time he got so worked up from a dream, not even during puberty. 

There wasn’t even anything explicit, just the pressure, the sight of Hob on top of him. Fingers trailing down his body, down to his thighs, Hob’s lips following his hands. Dream shivers at the remembrance of it, overwhelmed with it. 

Biting his lip, he takes a deep breath as he grabs his aching cock, sparks of pleasure making him gasp as he imagines it’s Hob stroking him. 

Hob’s hands, searing hot, pleasantly rough and he whimpers, dick leaking around his fingers incessantly. Hob staring up at him, eyes dark and black, the gaze tangible and fuck, he wants it, pulse jumping under the imagined weight of it. 

Biting his cheek, he lets out a small cry as the orgasm rushes up to meet him, come coating his hand, and the sheet on top.

In the post-orgasmic haze, he can only manage a small amount of shame, thinking of Hob as he did.

-

Dream stares down at the text message, dread already making its home in his stomach. 

Desire

that boyfriend of yrs should come ;) unless… 

Sure, Hob and he are still ― that’s not the problem. He doesn’t even know how to articulate it, considering Hob’s either hot-or-cold with him, entirely randomly. And today Hob’s been distant, smile not reaching his eyes. 

Taking a deep breath, he goes to the kitchen, where Hob’s making dinner. “Hob?” The other man hums, focusing on a pot of pasta. “You should meet up with my siblings and I this Saturday,” he says lightly. 

“As your partner?” Hob asks, voice flat and Dream winces, his silence telling. “Think I’ll be busy that day,” Hob says, turning to give him one of those smiles that doesn’t show in his eyes. 

Walking closer, he watches as Hob puts things into another pan, “are you sure?” 

“Can’t get out of it. Sorry,” Hob says, not sounding sorry at all as he shrugs. Or truthful, either, which feels like the worst part. He has heard from many of Hob’s exes about his lying, among many other flaws, but he’s always willing to tell the truth to Dream. At least, until this. 

“Okay,” he frowns, not wanting to call it out. Hob gets out some small spoons and tries the pasta sauce, humming in consideration. And suddenly Hob is staring at him, a happy smile ― which does brighten up his eyes ― on his face, and Dream blinks at the spoon in front of his face, pasta sauce on it. 

“Spicy enough for you, or more?” 

-

There was sound coming outside of the apartment, but Dream waves it off as Hob, putting on his sleepclothes after a shower. Opening the bathroom door, he absently dries his hair, then freezes. 

In front of him ― well, not him ― but in front of Hob’s door, is Hob, every ounce of attention on the man he’s crowding against the door, sharing small laughs and words. The man is is tall and dark-skinned, thin dark locs in Hob’s hands as they kiss. 

The man glances over at him, and Dream jolts into awareness, somehow freezing up even more as he gulps, insides twisting in― 

Jealousy, the way the man starts to speak up more ― then a hand covering his mouth as Hob shushes him, eyes sparkling even from the side as he finally opens his bedroom door, more hushed talking as the door shuts, Hob not even aware of him. 

Wide-eyed, he quietly goes to his own room, noting that he has felt this before with Hob’s exes, or hookups. Which he wasn’t aware of, the jealousy, until it flooded through him, always thought of it of―he wasn’t sure, something about Hob’s attention, about stealing Hob away from him, he’d thought once. And the envy of it, can think of a yawning void of Hob’s casual, flirting touches with others.

 Putting on his headphones, Dream puts on his music and tries not think of how he wants to be the focus of that attention again, those heady kisses and― 

More, even, he thinks, can feel his face heating as he gets out a book to read. Though he ends up stuck on the first page, unable to retain more than the first word, can only think of wet dreams and the ache of wanting to be the one Hob is paying singular attention to. 

-

Desire gives him a judgemental look, making him feel small in between the rest of their siblings. “Your boyfriend’s failed to show up again,” they say acridly, and Dream tries not to grimace. Considering the way Desire’s eyes light up, he’s failed. 

The judgement is suffocating, and Dream considers running away. Or getting a seat outside this suddenly stifling restaurant. 

Work thing. Can’t miss it, was Hob’s lie this time ― and ― he gets it, that they’re not in the actual relationship his sibling’s think it is. The relationship that he wishes it was, but it’s not like he’s going to say to Desire, who lorded it over him when his last relationships broke. 

He can’t do that. 

“Well?” They drawl, looking smugly satisfied as they twirl blond hair around their finger. 

“He’s busy,” Dream says with heat, unwilling to give in to the pressure. Desire scoffs. Dream opens his mouth― 

“Sibling, let it go,” Despair replies with a sigh, and Dream boggles, feeling as surprised as Desire looks. “I wish I was with my wife right now, but alas,” she continues with a pout. 

Desire squint-glares at him, but does let it go, though they settle on a scowl and a huff. “Fine, but only for you, sister dear.” 

Next to him on the left, Death groans, “now that that’s over with, can we order? I only have so much time―” 

On his right, Delirium speaks up, “you always say that!” 

-

“What happened to you?” Hob asks, and Dream freezes, gingerly stepping into the kitchen ― which he was hoping to sneak past, unable to account for Hob’s apparent radar. Hob gives him a once-over, and he resists the urge to curl up on the small stool, head pounding.

“Nothing,” he says, not wanting to talk about the weird tension between them. Or the excellent idea he had to get drunk enough to actually have a one-night stand. Which is more Hob’s thing, Dream at least preferring at a bit of emotional connection before doing that. 

And so. Alcohol. And a particularly nice man, eyes more of a hazel than brown―”if you say so,” Hob says dryly, eyes on his throat. Ah. Hickies. He  groans as he cups his throat, skin tingling as he flops onto the counter, the chill of it nice compared to the heat in his face. “Painkiller?” 

Dream groans, nodding against the counter, “please,” he says, hearing Hob move around their tiny kitchen. “Aren’t you meant to be at work?” He asks, reasonably sure today is one of those days where Hob leaves. Which he was kind of hoping for, and didn’t get. 

“The semester ends soon, and so I just decided to Zoom for those who really want to ― or need to do more,” Hob explains, and soon enough something cool is pressed against his temple, making him open his eyes, blankly staring at the glass of water against his forehead. Sitting straight, he downs the painkiller next to the glass, drinking most of the water before he puts it down. “Sorry to ruin your apparent sneaking,” Hob says, expression intensely focused on him, and Dream scowls. 

“How did you know?” He asks, can feel the other’s dark eyes on his neck, on the marks put there. They didn’t even do anything ― just heavy petting, the other man citing the alcohol on his breath. Though there was a handjob, quick and yet a marvel, the feeling of another’s man’s dick in his hand― 

Hob’s face becomes hard to understand, but only briefly before he smirks. “I have my ways,” Hob says. Dream gives him an unimpressed stare as he puts his head onto his arms on the counter, which also helps with the scrutiny he can still feel. “Your boots are very stompy,” Hob says, solemn. 

Dream stares down at his black platforms in betrayal as he pouts into his arm. “They are,” he mutters, in the end deciding to let go of the betrayal. He can’t stay mad at them. 

A bowl gets placed in front of him, and Dream stares in confusion at the cereal and milk in it. “You should eat,” Hob says as he puts a spoon in the bowl, pushing it into his arms. Dream blinks and can only agree. “My classes start in two hours, so wanna watch more of that show?” 

Nodding, he takes the bowl, absently eating it as Severance gets put on. 

-

Dream swallows the hurt as Hob’s hand, coming up to his shoulder ― stops and goes back to Hob’s side. They were so good, and suddenly, this again, the aborted touches, and he resists the urge to ask why? 

Mainly because he’s not sure he’d like the answer. Hob gives him a smile before he leaves and Dream sighs, flopping down onto the sofa. Can only think of the way Hob continues to not touch him. 

And that Weekend, where Hob was always touching him, and for all that he did appreciate it, he wants it even more now. Closing his eyes, he brings up the memory of it ― a hand on his shoulder, or on the small of his back. Fingers in his hair and a soft beard. 

Putting his arms around himself, Dream grabs onto the echoes of them, desperately wanting it to be Hob. 

He considers ― briefly ― of getting up, going to a club and trying to push himself in the easy skinship of that, but discards it, mind still spiraling on why won’t you touch me anymore, not even a pat on the shoulder― 

His phone rings and he startles, pulled out of his head as he opens it, Death’s face on the Calling screen. Huffing, he accepts it. “Sister?” He greets in confusion. 

“Desire set up another meeting, and this time didn’t say that Dream’s boyfriend should show up or else,” she mutters, and Dream’s heart drops, rubbing his face. Fuck. “So, you know. Just saying it here and not in our groupchat so Desire won’t be so, well.” 

“They will be,” he says, suddenly a lot more tired. Especially with Hob’s constant lies, the lack of touching, Desire’s apparent need to see Hob as his partner― “thank you sister,” he replies shortly, hanging up as he grits his teeth. 

Grabbing a red pillow next to him, he screams into it, at least transferring the screaming inside his brain to the outside. 

-

Dream is ― between jobs, at the moment, unsure what to do next― 

And there’s bashing on the door, which thankfully distracts him from looking at employment listings. Sighing, he opens it, then blinks at Matthew, with Hob hanging off his shoulder like a limpet. “He’s your problem now,” is Matthew says before Hob is shoved to him, and Dream freezes as Hob groans into his shoulder, the soft heat of Hob making his skin tingle as Matthew leaves. 

Blinking, he shuts the door as Hob leans into him, and he scrunches his nose at the beer he can smell from the other man. Dream doesn’t want to take of a drunk Hob ― but also, Hob isn’t shifting away, so he pats the other’s shoulder and takes them to their kitchen. “Usually you’re better at this,” he comments as he gets out a glass of water, putting it into Hob’s free hand. 

“Dr’m,” Hob slurs, staring at him with wide brown eyes ― and the hand leaves the glass to hold Dream’s cheek, and he stills, can feel his blood rush wildly up to the touch as he swallows. “‘Msorry,” Hob slurs, pressing into the where his ear meets his jaw. 

“You have nothing to apologise for,” he chokes out, confused as he soaks up the other’s body heat, the press of Hob against his side. Swallowing again, he picks up the glass and puts it up, Hob grabbing it. “Drink.” 

Hob huffs, but drinks. Dream tries not to stare too obviously at the way Hob’s throat works, at the odd amount of stubble leading down to soft skin ― and Dream looks away hastily as the glass is put down on the counter. “Dream,” Hob says, sounding a bit more lucid. Though, hands do grab his cheeks and he can feel his skin heating under the touch as Hob turns his face until their eyes meet. 

His mouth dries at the intensity of Hob’s eyes, brain no doubt working hard in between all the alcohol. “Hob,” he says, matching the other’s tone. “You’re drunk,” he says, unsure what pointing it out will accomplish. 

Hob’s hands caress him, and he shivers under the callused fingers, not wanting to break the contact ― but also, he should, before something regrettable happens. Like Hob coming closer, and Dream can’t find it in him to break from the other’s gaze, “I want,” Hob whispers ― and a thumb grazes the edge of his lip― 

Dream’s mind crashes as he pulls away Hob’s hands, who stares down at them in confusion as Dream takes a deep breath. “You’re drunk,” he repeats, more for himself as he wills his heart to not beat out of his chest. “Let’s,” he mumbles, leading Hob to his bedroom. 

“Sometimes, I think,” Hob says, pressing him against the doorframe, and he sucks in a breath at hands going into his hair, pulling him to look at Hob again. 

Hob’s expression is that inscrutable type again, and all Dream can think is I’m gay. Which feels like a very fucking inopportune time to think that, considering how, again, drunk, Hob is. 

It doesn't stop him from thinking it again as Hob chest presses against his, fingers threading more through his hair deliciously, and Dream’s sure Hob can feel insanely fast his heart is beating, can feel his pulse hammering in his neck as it arches. “Dream,” Hob says, voice rough and low― 

His name said like that becomes a reality check and he forces him away ― or pushes Hob into his room, the door shutting loudly. Dream presses his head against the door, cool against his heated skin as he takes calming breaths. 

Drunk. He was drunk ― he’s drunk, Dream thinks to himself desperately, can still feel Hob’s touches, the searing heat down to his bones.

-

A finger presses into his mouth, rough and shiveringly familiar, arousal coursing through him at the simple touch. “My partner,” Hob says, other hand coming up to caress his cheek. “All mine, aren’t you?” 

Dream whines, arching up into the solid body above him, the  heat of him maddening. “Please, yes,” he keens, shuddering as Hob leans down to kiss him, slow and toe-curling deep, the press of it going into his bones. “Please,” he croaks. 

“Dream, my Dream,” Hob whispers into him, sharp teeth and soft stubble making him gasp as they go down his jaw, down his throat ― with Hob’s hands trailing down his naked body. The teeth biting down his throat make him ache, wanting it all over as he scratches up Hob’s arms to scratch up his shoulder blades. 

“Yours,” he breathes, senseless to anything that’s not Hob, that’s not the overwhelming bliss he feels, cock leaking under Hob’s dark stare. 

Hob presses down on his lower half, hazy heat making him whimper as his hands go into Hob’s hair as more marks get placed on his throat, down to his collarbones. Fingers enter his mouth and he licks them, sucking them until Hob lets out a breathy moan. “I want you,” Hob whispers, a finger flat on his tongue as the other’s trace around his mouth, making his whine.

The fingers leave and Dream misses them already, mouth feeling empty as Hob rests his forehead against his cheek ― and he can only cry out as slick fingers touch his cock, stroking it gently. “Hob,” he keens, stars exploding behind his eyes as Hob strokes him to a hurtling orgasm―

“Hob!” He cries out, snapping to awareness sharply as he wakes up. Slapping a hand around his mouth, he groans at his sticky pants as his heart-rate calms down. Letting out another groan, he curls up and pulls a pillow close, hugging it tightly as he tries to linger in the wet dream.

-

Dream feels he’s going insane, just a bit. Which isn’t helped the meet-up with his siblings tomorrow, Desire texting him every day about his boyfriend― 

And said ‘boyfriend’ being even more reserved than usual. With an added bonus of being angry, that Dream knows more from the way Hob slammed the door shut in the morning, then anything else. 

Even Dream’s resurgence of wet dreams, filled with comforting and rough hands is only enough to keep him from―well, he doesn’t know, but at least the memories are enough to keep him somewhat sane as he comes to terms with the enormity of his feelings towards Hob. Mainly because there’s an absence of Hob’s smile and laughter directed towards him, or the inane things Hob would talk about.

Dream stares at Hob on the other sofa, nose in a book. At least Hob doesn’t seem as angry, though he can’t help the dread he feels at what he’s going to ask. Dread and exhaustion ― over all this. 

“Hob?” He says, taking a deep breath as Hob hums, still reading his history book. “I’m meeting up with sibling’s tomorrow, and―” 

“Can’t make it,” is all Hob replies with, voice short and final. Dream scowls, some of his exhaustion turning into irritation, prickling in his bones. 

“But Desire has been―they’ve been, and having my partner there―” 

Hob finally looks up, a scowl on his face, “but I’m not your partner. I’m―why not just ask any of the other men you’ve been fucking?!” Hob asks, tone acrid at the end, book fluttering as he gestures with his hand. 

“Because they’re not you!” 

The silence is absolute as Dream realises, belatedly, what he said in the moment. Hob’s brows furrow, anger leaving his face as Hob gives him a confused stare. Sighing deeply, Dream covers his face with his hands, too tired to take it back, and apparently wanting to bare his soul. Where it’ll likely be crushed, he’ll deal with those emotions in about a week or so. 

Dream chuckles, and it sounds insane to his ears, “they’re not. I did ― be with other men, just to know, that I’m not,” he frowns, annoyed with the way his words come out in a jumble. Frowning, he considers his next words, “you ruined all those men for me. I kept searching for the way you held me, or the way you kissed, and in the end they never matched up because I wanted―I want. You,” he finishes quietly.

“Me?” Hob asks, the almost-amazement in it making him look up. “You’re not just saying that?” 

“Why would I just say that?” He hisses. “I discovered I’m gay because I enjoyed kissing you so much, then discovered that I have feelings for you which I never realised because I thought I was str―”

 Mercifully, his ramblings are cut-off. By Hob’s lips on his, hands framing his face and Dream lets out a sound of relief as he grabs onto the other’s shoulders. The kiss itself is chaste, but considering how sparsely Hob’s touched him, this is all he needs as they press against each other, Hob gently leading them over to the larger sofa. 

“I have feelings for you too,” Hob says against him, brown eyes soft and affectionate. 

Dream huffs and pulls away, grabbing Hob’s wrists tightly and tugs them down to the sofa. “I thought you said you wouldn’t fall in with me,” he states, confused. 

Hob smiles and gives him a you’re an idiot look, “I’ve been in love with you for ages, long before that,” Hob says, tone much like his expression. 

-

His lips feel bruised and bitten, but pulling away from Hob is ― unthinkable, unfathomable. And Hob is the same, hands on his waist and biting down his throat, skin tingling as he shivers, Hob biting over already-made marks. 

“I missed this,” he whispers, patting the other’s beard. Though, some things are not that familiar, the way he sits on Hob’s lap, and he definitely would’ve missed this if he had it, the solid heat beneath him. “Not just the kissing, but you touching me. You stopped,” he breathes, can hear the whine of it as Hob kisses him, hands going under his shirt. 

“I missed it too,” Hob replies quietly, nails digging into his waist and Dream shivers, pleasure zinging up his spine. “It was just easier not to ― otherwise I’d never let go,” Hob says into his skin, and Dream swallows, nails scratching up his sides, “I’d never stop.” 

“Don’t stop,” he pleads, moving one of his hands to get under Hob’s shirt, feeling the hot skin ― and Dream keens, fingers stretching into the hair on Hob’s belly. He can feel Hob’s moan, can feel him pressing up as they share a spine-tingling kiss. Or maybe that’s the nails trailing up his spine, then back down. “Hob.”

The hand traces the edge of his pants until it reaches the front, making Dream’s dick throb, bringing awareness to how hard he is, “can I?” Hob asks, voice rough and eyes dark as they stare at him. 

Dream spares a moment to think how he’ll survive this, when this already feels like so much, but saying no ― or peeling himself off Hob isn’t an option. “Yes,” he whispers, bracing himself mentally as Hob kisses him again, and he almost bites Hob’s tongue as the hand goes into his pants, fingers trailing up his cock. Dream lets out a startled sound, mind firing at the touch as fingers caress his balls, then make their way to his leaking tip. 

His own furtive imaginings pale in comparison to the explorative way Hob strokes him, wiping his head clean of thoughts as he holds onto Hob’s chest, rough hair under his hand as he gasps into the other’s mouth. Grinding down, he can feel Hob’s cock, hard and ― untouched, which Dream wants to remedy, remembering his other hand as he undoes Hob’s pants somehow, running on instinct and need as he slides his hand to hold Hob’s cock, which is worth it alone for the way Hob’s hand jerks, the way he moans. 

Somehow, they separate enough for Hob’s shirt to disappear, showing heated skin and hair as they stroke each other into a frenzy, and Dream’s teeth ache. Hob’s so warm and responsive, a delightful stream of moaning his name, and Dream keeps staring at Hob’s throat, at his collarbones, the sweat gathering on them from their rutting― 

So he bites down near Hob’s adam’s apple, tasting the tangy sweat, can feel Hob shudder, can feel the startled whine ― and the sudden wetness coating his hand as he sucks a mark into Hob’s throat. “Dream,” Hob breathes, an arm pulling him closer, the hand on his cock pressing into him in ways that make him feel even more senseless, fucking into Hob desperately as his orgasm crashes into him. 

He can feel Hob breathing into his hair as Dream rests his forehead against Hob’s collarbone, brain taking it’s time to be more than the orgasm he just had, can feel Hob stroking his softening cock and he shivers at the feeling, letting out a whimper. 

Letting go of Hob’s cock, he looks down at the come covering it, and then wipes it onto Hob’s jeans. Hob yelps in offense ― then takes out his own hand, wiping it on Dream’s pants. “The nerve,” Hob mutters, and Dream smiles, though it disappears as Hob tenses, arms keeping him trapped against the other man. Blinking, he puts his arms around Hob’s shoulders, pulling up to look at the other’s wary face. Dream just kisses Hob, who goes oh, relaxing into it. 

“Will you,” he frowns, the words sudden, brain still getting itself together. Though, it’s what he was planning to ask anyway, “willl you join me as my actual partner, tomorrow? Entirely optional, the thing tomorrow, I just―” 

Hob’s brows, raised high as he talks ― rambles, again, that’s meant to be Hob’s quirk, though he did also pick up Hob’s quirk of thinking Shakespeare is overrated―until Hob cuts him off with a kiss, fingers stroking his hair. “Magically, I think tomorrow’s been cleared, and would love nothing more than to join my partner,” Hob says, eyes sparkling.

-

Walking on the sidewalk to where they’re meeting his siblings, Dream frowns, “we could always go back home,” he states, and he can feel Hob chuckle, the arm on his shoulders pulling him even closer to his partner. 

“Tempting. But we should probably let the place air out first,” Hob points out reasonably, and Dream pouts. “And I want to pay for your lunch!” 

“Hm,” he says, knowing the place they’re going to is very expensive, so Hob may change his tune once they’re inside. Speaking of, they walk in, his gaggle of siblings sitting at a large table in the centre. Death waves him over, and Hob squeezes him tighter, a kiss placed on the side of his head. Dream can feel his face heat up as they sit down. “Hello.” 

“What’s he doing here?” Desire asks right off the bat, golden eyes narrowed at Hob. 

“I was invited, wasn’t I?” Hob says, cheerful grin obvious in his voice as Dream picks up the menu, Hob’s chair squeaking closer to look at it with him. Dream looks over as Hob pales, noticing the lack of prices on it. 

“Desire is paying today,” he points out quietly, “you can buy me dinner tomorrow,” he offers in compromise, and Hob takes a deep breath, their heads brushing. 

Hob frowns, “fine,” he says, pouting and Dream smiles, oddly charmed that Hob’s so disgruntled by it. 

Desire makes a disgusted sound, making Dream look at his sibling over the menu, “what exactly were you expecting, sibling?” 

They cross their arms and sniff, “another no-show, of course. Or even terrible news,” they say with glee, like a break-up clear in their unsaid words. 

“Wow,” Hob whispers next to him. “Don’t you have better things to do than be obsessed with me?” Hob asks, and many of his siblings crack up laughing as Desire sputters. He’s even chuckling as Hob tugs him into a kiss, soft and pleased, ending with their noses brushing. 

“I’m not obsessed with the likes of you!” Desire hisses, face a bright red. “I’m not! Right, sister?” They say, facing Despair, who just shrugs. “There is ― I’m not!” 

“Alright, enough of this,” Death says between laughter, her stern look quieting the laughs, with Desire grumbling to themself as they hide in the menu, “we should order!” 

[Fin]

[grimm-writings]

can i request chilchuck making reader their favorite dish when they get back to the surface? like inviting them over for dinner to try and confess properly :3

the secret ingredient

…ft! chilchuck x gn! reader

…tags! fluff, post-canon, senshi being wise

…wc! 949

…notes! this is so cute… what da hell… enjoy your meal 🥺 

“Shit, shit, shit, shit!”

The half-foot is running around the kitchen of his home like a headless chicken, which is coincidentally what he’s holding over his head rushing from the oven to the hob, and back to see if things are stable.

The one who remains perfectly calm and still, stirring a little pot of gravy is Senshi, glancing to look over at Chilchuck trying to stir some vegetables.

“...You forgot the–”

“I know I forgot the salt!”

With clear agitation, Chilchuck shrilly screams the words back at Senshi as he scavenges the cabinets around him for the salt.  Senshi already showed disdain for how disorganised Chilchuck’s kitchen is.  At the time, he had simply dismissed it, but now it’s biting back when he clearly doesn’t know where things go and how they got there.

Chilchuck tries not to overflow the vegetables with salt as he mutters to himself.  “They’ll be here in an hour, we don’t have an hour to fix all this up – Senshi can you hurry the gravy up?!”

Giving his friend a sidelong glance, Senshi keeps stirring, as gravy shouldn’t be left alone.  “No can do, Chilchuck.  This takes time.”

“We don’t have—”

“Were you not prepping this all beforehand?”  Senshi looks around at the already made meals.  “I love food myself, but… this might be a bit…”

Chilchuck’s glare once Senshi turns back at him could kill.  “What?  Much?  You think it’s ‘a bit much’?”  He throws his hands in the air.  “They deserve the best meal I can make for them!  Aren’t you always talking about the best way to bond is through food?”

“Well, yes, but–”

“Listen, Senshi,” Chilchuck slaps his hands down on Senshi’s shoulder.  “This…  This needs to be perfect.  I can’t go and confess to them if it isn’t.”

The dwarf takes in Chilchuck’s worries, before pointing behind him.  “The chicken is–”

“SHIT, THE CHICKEN IS READY!” 

Senshi turns down the heat of his part of the hob as Chilchuck runs off, and begins pouring the gravy into a jug.  “I thought you’d know more than anyone that quality should be favoured over quantity,” he muses.

Chilchuck, upon retrieving the chicken from the oven, grumbles incoherently.  He sighs.  “I guess I don’t want to disappoint them…”

“I’m sure they’d love even just one portion of their favourite meal with you,” Senshi advises, patting Chilchuck’s shoulder.  “Even with all of this food, you’re missing the secret ingredient.”

With confusion etched into his features, Chilchuck looks at Senshi.  “What?”  He flatly responds.  Did he miss something?!

Senshi smiles – or rather Chilchuck learns that when his cheeks puff and his eyes close that he’s likely smiling – and chuckles slightly.

“Love, o’ course.”

Chilchuck looks like he is losing brain cells in real time.  “Love,” he repeats, in slight disbelief.

“Yep.”

“Love.”

“That’s it!”  Senshi takes a step back.  “Do ya happen to know their favourite dish?”

Chilchuck can’t believe he’s about to learn some moral about love at a time like this.  “...Yeah, why?”

“Let’s scrap all this.  I can hand them all out to families around the place,” Senshi graciously offers.  “Instead, make a two-portion meal, their favourite, for your dinner.  And sprinkle in some love.”

The wink Senshi gives him results in Chilchuck’s skin going hot in embarrassment.  Really?  That’s his suggestion?

“I wanna impress them,” he says, quieter.

“I know ya do, but you can’t do that rushing around doing the bare minimum of cooking.”

The silence of the kitchen fills Chilchuck’s ears, and suddenly he’s aware of the heat of the room, how sweaty he is, and how tired he feels.

He really has been going overboard from stress, huh?

The half-foot takes a deep breath, grounding himself in this reality again and meekly nods.  “Yeah.  Fine.  You can give all these meals away to the townsfolk.

Together, the dwarf and half-foot put the meals in appropriate containers and bags.  Right before Senshi was about to leave, Chilchuck stops him.

“Hm?”  Senshi turns as his attention is grabbed.  He knows Chilchuck isn’t the best with his feelings by now, but as his friend, he feels it’s his duty to at least help him.

The half-foot doesn’t look him in the eye when he says, “thank you,” cheeks flushed.

Senshi perks up at Chilchuck’s gratitude.  “Not a problem,” he returns, leaving the home.

Now alone, Chilchuck checks the time.  You’ll be arriving in 45 minutes.

…Sure, he can make one meal by the time you show up.  With his secret ingredient he can.

It takes a strenuous amount of precision on Chilchuck’s part, but with his line of work there’s nothing that he can’t do. His love is poured into the meal, from how he stirs the mix from how he gently places a little stick of parsley on the top.

‘Tis finished, the little Senshi in Chlichuck’s head heaves a sigh of relief.

Right on time too, considering the knock on the door.  Chilchuck wipes the beads of sweat off his forehead and rushes to welcome you in, before noting he needs to get dressed into something nicer.

When he comes back, you smile that wonderful grin.  “Thank you for making dinner for us, Chil.”

His secret ingredient shines through for you, from how he presents the meal to how he returns your smile, the lines under his eyes crinkling.  “Really, the honour is all mine.”

He offers his hand out to you, and you accept.  Even if you’re somewhat surprised, Chilchuck has always been quite a gentleman around you.

Chilchuck thinks that, maybe, he is able to confess with just his confidence and love alone.  There’s no need for frivolities.

Just one secret ingredient seals the deal.

[valiantstarlights]

[Fae!Dream and Vampire!Hob AU]

For @gabessquishytum and wing anon 🖤 I've had this in my notes for a couple of weeks, but now seems to be a good time to share it. 😊

Fun fact, this was inspired by these lines from Baby, It's Cold Outside: "I wish I knew how / (Your eyes are like starlight now) / To break this spell"

Don't ask. The weather was 30°C+ outside when I typed this up. 😂

CW: the tiniest amount of spice, and Dream and Hob being insane about each other as usual.

Fae!Dream runs away from home in the middle of winter and ends up on the wrong side of the forest. He has never been here before. The trails are winding and changes directions when he isn't looking, and the trees are indifferent to his plight, refusing to point him towards the fae side of the forest. 'We are too sleepy,' they say. 'Fuck off.'

Soon, though, he comes upon a castle, and he can see that there's light inside. Snow is already falling pretty hard by then, and Dream is so desperate for warmth and shelter that he knocks on the imposing front doors.

It takes a while for someone to answer, but Dream waits. It's a huge castle. He's about to knock again when the door opens and a handsome vampire peeks his head out. When he sees Dream, shivering and hunched over, lips almost blue, he hurriedly opens the door wide and ushers him in.

Dream enters the castle. Despite everything he has learned in his long, long life.

He knows he has to tread carefully. It's common knowledge that fae and vampires don't get along. But he also knows how important inviting someone inside is to vampires, and he doesn't exactly have a choice. He has two options, and they are: 100 percent chance of freezing to death on one hand, and 50 percent chance of being murdered by a vampire on the other.

Although...now that he's looking, he thinks the vampire looks nice, actually. He's currently talking about getting Dream warmed up in front of a fire and getting him some soup, then apologizing right after because there won't be garlic in the soup.

Dream thinks his voice sounds lovely.

The vampire keeps his promises. Soon, Dream is warm in front of a fireplace, eating creamy vegetable soup. The vampire talks about how he made the soup, and Dream can tell that he's just as nervous as having a fae in his home. But Dream senses no falsehood in his words or in his manners.

Dream is so fucking charmed by him that he (unthinkingly) asks him his name. And then realizes his mistake one second later when the vampire's open features shutter close and his muscles tense.

"My name is Dream," Dream offers. He knows he should not give his name. Not his true one, anyway. And yet he does.

If the vampire's goal is to hurt him, he does not need Dream's true name for that. Dream is still weak from running and escaping his bodyguards. If the vampire wants to hurt him, he'll be too weak to fight back.

"Sure," the vampire says, and...yeah, he's right to be suspicious. 'Dream' isn't exactly one of the top 100 baby names for male fae babies. Lord and Lady Endless knew what they were doing when they named their children. "You can call me Hob."

Hob.

His name doesn't taste like a lie, but Dream knows it's not his real name. It's fine. He likes 'Hob.'

"Thank you for offering me shelter," Dream says. He knows he shouldn't show gratitude or else it will bite him in the ass in the future. He does so anyway. "I was running away from home."

He knows he is under no obligation to speak the truth in its purest form. He has learned how to mislead and twist his words in a way that is still true, but volunteers less information. He does so anyway.

Hob is looking at him intensely, like he is also trying to figure Dream out. "May I ask why?"

And so the whole story falls out of Dream's mouth. It's the first time he has ever talked to anyone about how he is being treated at home, but Hob is respectful and lets him talk. Hob is nice and pours him a glass of water when his voice become hoarse.

Hob is lovely because when Dream starts to break down in the end, telling him all about the entire business with the Burgesses, he takes out a handkerchief and wipes Dream's tears away himself.

"I'm so sorry about everything that has ever happened to you," Hob says in the end, when Dream realizes that he is on Hob's lap, being held. It feels nice. He wants to snuggle up further, but his manners prevent him from doing so. "But I'm glad you've left them for good."

That makes Dream pause, and he shakes his head. "I have not. Technically, I am still under their protection." He looks outside to see heavy snowflakes still drifting down, and an occasional wind gusting through. "I still have to go home."

Hob looks out the window and then back to him incredulously. "In this weather?"

"I have to," Dream insists. "If not..."

"If not?"

Dream looks down at his lap. At Hob's handkerchief that was somehow now in his hands. It's a pretty cream color with the initials R.G. embroidered on the corner. Dream does not think what the initials mean because he doesn't want to pry. Hob's true name is his business alone. But he likes the handkerchief. Perhaps he can keep it as a souvenir of his time at the castle of the handsome vampire. It would be his most prized possession. He will not draw attention to it so Hob will forget to ask him to return it. "If not," Dream says, "I will die before the season turns."

Hob inhales sharply, and then he's clasping Dream's arms. "Is that a fae thing?"

Dream nods miserably. It's how they lost Destruction. And how Dream will be lost, if he doesn't get back. He hopes Death will take care of Jessamy for him.

"Is there no loophole for that?" Hob asks, looking frantic. "There must be something. Like...I don't know, like a transfer of protection?"

Hob must be a very young vampire for him not to know the rules. But Dream knows the rules by heart, and all the loopholes as well, from hundreds of years trying to bend them. And the only way...

"Oh."

"Oh?" Hob echoes. "Is there a way to save you after all?"

There is, but--

He could not possibly--

"I have to leave," Dream announces, and regretfully gets off of Hob's lap and starts walking away.

"What? Why?" Hob asks, standing up himself and following him. "Do you have to go on a quest for some item or something? Stay the night. There's literally a blizzard--"

"I cannot!" Dream shouts.

Hob, shocked by Dream's outburst, holds his hands up peaceably. "Alright," he says gently. "May I ask why?"

Dream bites his lip and says nothing.

"Tell me," Hob begs. "Please. I want to help."

Dream shakes his head. Nobody wants to help. Randall had tried to trap him against his will. Alexander was too afraid of his father and brother to help Dream escape and had only pointed him deeper into their house. Dream almost didn't make it.

Hob exhales. Not out of impatience, but out of a decision reached. "Look," he says, hands still open in a gesture of peace. "I know you have no reason to trust me, but I really do want to help you. I know a thing or two about being trapped in a situation I do not want to be in, and I wouldn't want anyone else to experience that. So...I would like you to know my name."

Dream gapes at him. A vampire willingly giving his own true name to a fae? It's practically unheard of. It's a trick. It's--

Hob takes a deep breath and says, "My name is Robert Gadling."

'R.G.' The handkerchief is his. Dream's fingers tingle at this new information.

There is a change that happens, when someone tells a fae their true name voluntarily, knowing exactly what they're getting into. It's a different kind of change than when their name is tricked out from them.

If their name is tricked out of them, a thin string, only visible to the fae, connects the being to the fae they gave their name to, as a sign of possession.

But when someone tells a fae their true name the way Hob--Robert Gadling, just did, they will look more real to the fae. More tangible.

And a more tangible Robert Gadling, a kind and handsome vampire who would open his doors to a fae, feed them, keep them warm, and want to help them save their life? All the while smelling of nothing but sincerity?

"Tell me," Hob, Robert, says again. "I want to help you."

Dream suddenly hungers for him. And his sudden yearning to make Hob his is not conducive to the conversation. "You--"

"Please," he says. "Unless there's something preventing you to? More of your fae rules?" He looks contemplatively at the space between them. "Do I have to kneel?"

No. Yes. Lie and make him kneel.

"If I stay," Dream says faintly, the words tumbling out of his mouth without his conscious consent, "my parents' protection will slowly pass to my current host."

Hob looks alarmed at that, probably wondering how many hours it has been since Dream has arrived. "How slowly?"

"A week at most."

The answer, of course, is much more complicated than that. In the case of the Burgesses, Dream still has his parents' protection at the end of Day 5, when he finally escaped. In Unity Kincaid's case, she was so in love with Desire that it only took a day for her parents' protection to fade.

But with the way things are going between him and Hob, and with how fast Dream is prone to falling in love, his parents' protection will most likely fade after three days. At most.

"So stay," Hob says, as if it were that simple. He is still so young. He doesn't know what he is offering. "If you haven't noticed yet, the castle is entirely empty, aside from the castle's spirit itself. It takes care of itself and was kind enough to open its doors for me when I rose from the dead. And if it can offer me, a no-good vampire who used to be a highwayman, a home, then who am I to not offer you my protection as well?"

'Highwayman' is a term that cannot be more than 300 years old. Dream is robbing the cradle.

"I am saying," Dream says slowly, "that if you are to offer me your protection, once my parents' protection has faded, you would be considered my husband. The fae will consider us married."

Hob blinks. "Oh."

"Yes, 'oh,'" Dream cannot help but say mockingly. "That is why I must leave."

But Hob just gestures to the windows helplessly, begging him to see sense at the sight of the howling winds that are thankfully muffled by the thick castle walls. "In this weather?"

"I must."

"A night."

"What?"

"Stay for the night," Hob begs. "The weather might be better tomorrow. And if so, I will give you my thickest coat and help you get back to fae land myself. If...if you are afraid of me, I will stay here in the study, and you may choose any room you'd like to stay in for the night."

Dream stares at him, and ignores the way his body is pleasantly tingling all over, but especially between his legs.

Faes are not good. They are greedy creatures who will take the entire dish when presented with a bite.

And in the face of Robert Gadling's kindness and consideration...

Dream walks up to Hob and grabs him by the collar of his dressing gown. If Hob is willing to give him a coat, then Dream will steal all his clothes for himself as well. If Hob is willing to offer him his protection, then Dream will cast his own on him and name him husband without bothering to wait for his parents' protection to fade. If Hob has shown him kindness for an hour, Dream will want him for the rest of their life.

"Kiss me," he says. Demands. Begs. He doesn't know anymore. All he knows is that if Hob does not kiss him, he will cry.

Hob looks baffled. "What...will that accomplish, exactly? If I may ask?"

Dream groans in frustration and stamps his feet. "I will be kissed," he says. "I will know what you taste like, and you will know mine. Our lips will be thoroughly acquainted and we will feel our tongues push wetly against each other. Is that not enough of an accomplishment for you?"

"Sounds like you want more than just a kiss, your highness," Hob says, but his gaze and his voice are lower now, which is exactly what Dream wants.

"I am not a prince," Dream tells him honestly. Always with honesty. "But I do want more than just a kiss from you. With the generosity you have shown me, with you telling me your name, if you do not kiss me, I will simply waste away and perish."

"Well, we can't have that," Hob says. "Not after I just saved you from freezing to death."

"No, we cannot," Dream agrees. "So kiss me, Robert Gadling." His true name on Dream's tongue tastes like sunlight. "Kiss me and protect me and make me yours right now."

Hob's eyes are dancing as he brushes a lock of hair away from Dream's face and tucks it behind his ear. "You're a greedy little fae, aren't you?"

"And you are still not kissing me, you stubborn vampire."

"I can't believe this is how my evening turned out," Hob chuckles, and touches their foreheads together. "I must have gone insane the moment I saw you. I would normally offer to court someone first before the topic of marriage can even be considered."

Dream pecks Hob's dimpled chin, impatient. He has a slight stubble that would feel wonderful against Dream's thighs. "I am not human. Or another vampire. I am a fae. And if you do not kiss me right now, I will go out in that snowstorm and--"

"Alright, you sweet impatient thing," Hob says, "No need for such threats." And finally dips his head down to touch their lips chastely.

Dream would have none of that, however, and surges upwards, intent on devouring him. Their sharp canines clack against each other, but it does not deter them.

"Are we insane?" Hob asks when Dream has to take a breath. It's so unfair that Dream has to breathe when Hob does not. "To do this right after we just met? Tell me truly."

"Yes," Dream answers honestly. "I do not know of anyone who consummated their coming together as one on the very day they met."

"Consummating, hm?" Hob's thumb presses against his hipbone when he pulls Dream closer to him. "We can do that."

"Yes," Dream agrees. "Right now. Please. Everything."

And Hob does just that.

--

His parents' protection fades even before Hob could fuck him, but he's too preoccupied by the feeling of Hob's stubble on his thighs to notice.

--

In the morning, Hob presents him with the most beautiful obsidian ring he has ever seen, and Dream immediately says yes before Hob could even ask the question.

--

"For the record," Hob says one night after they finished fucking in the library, "I was fully intending on lending you all my thick coats that first night. You looked so cold I was hesitant to even take off your clothes."

Dream snuggles up to him and drapes one leg over Hob's deliciously hairy thighs. "That would not have worked," he says, certain. "I would have simply taken off all my clothes and accepted nothing from you except your most translucent nightgowns to cover my nakedness."

"You will seduce a vampire? Didn't you tell me that our kind do not get along?"

Dream bites him gently on the shoulder with his smaller fangs.

"I would not seduce a vampire," he says haughtily. "I have met some before, and found none of them pleasing. It is you I would seduce. The man I have decided would be mine forever as my husband."

Hob kisses his forehead, and Dream could feel the foolish smile on his lips. "Who is a vampire."

"Shush, Robert Gadling," he says, unable to stop himself from smiling as well.

[delta-pavonis]

'allo! may i have a bit of Friend Like Me? ;)

Absolutely! I have posted some of this before, but once again Tumblr's search function is failing me and apparently I can't organize my own tags for shit so... This is Matthew + Hob used to be partners in crime (literally) and Hob may or may not have started the crew from Leverage. 😂

100% G-rated fluff over here.

Hob has to do this every few decades otherwise he would be up to his eyeballs in storage units. It isn't fun, but neither is having too many moving parts to keep track of and potentially getting caught by another asshat with a hard-on for immortality. 

What was that quote he had read? "No matter how subtle the wizard, a knife between the shoulder blades will seriously cramp his style." 

Not to mention the myriad other enemies he had accumulated via his network of grifters, hitters, and hackers. 

(What? The current state of technological advancements meant that Hob needed to get better at tracking and erasing his digital presence back in the late nineties. Was it his fault that while he was living in the States he had accidentally amassed a highly skilled group of "criminals" who were all connected to him like spokes to the hub on a carriage wheel? And that it turned out that they were, as a team, really great at liberating funds and removing items from billionaire idiots who didn't need a fraction of their accumulated wealth and power? That they did it so well that Hob had to fake his own death earlier than expected to get out from under a particularly angry arms dealer? Was that really all because of him?)

(Yes. Yes it was.)

Yeah, anyway, Hob didn't leave the house without at least one blade on his person anymore. 

This is why, when Hob is interrupted by a large black mass swerving into his storage unit through the crack in the door that should be far too small to admit such a creature, he pulls the nearest throwing knife (he was crouching, so he went for the one concealed in a sheath on the outside ankle of his black leather chelseas), clocks the intruder's movement in his peripheral vision, and wings it directly at them. It hits the wall with a satisfying kthud, which is promptly followed by a very avian squawking.

"FUCKING CAWCHRIST MY DUDE WAS THAT A KNIFE!?! WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS, THE IDES OF FUCKING MARCH?!"

That voice! Hob's head snaps up to see a sizable black bird falling in a tumble. It hits the concrete floor with a sound not unlike a briefcase hitting pavement from a story up (what? It is a very distinctive sound), leaving three large feathers tacked into the wall by the knife.

"Fuck me sideways that HURTS. Note to self, birds no likey losing butt feathers." The bird (A raven? Like this is the bloody Tower of London?) walks out from around a cardboard box with a bit of a waddle in its step, trying to look back at his tail while he moves. "I guess the Boss didn't tell you I was coming then?"

Hob sits back on his heels. That voice is still hauntingly familiar. But he would damned well remember meeting a talking bird. "Well, perhaps if you told me who your Boss is..."

The raven leaps a solid four feet into the air with a screech. He lands on top of a small writing desk, scrabbles against the smooth surface to balance himself, and then looks down at Hob with one glass-black eye. "I can't believe... no fucking way... Robbie? Is that you? Didn't you die in 2017?"

"Mattie?!" Hob's ass hits the cool floor as he is blown back by the revelation. "Didn't you die in 2020?"

Matthew Cable had been one of Hob's favorite grifters. Not because he was absolutely perfect at his job (oh no, Mattie had fucked up spectacularly more times then Hob’s blood pressure wants to recall), but because they had quickly become "let's get absolutely toasted and MST3K bad horror movies while we bitch about our love lives" buddies. Hob had missed Mattie immediately upon his own faked death and had mourned when he heard, through various channels he still kept an ear to, that Mattie had died in his sleep not too long ago.

"Yeah, but when I died I was given, like, a choice? Apparently the King of Dreams needed a new Raven and I decided to give it a go. Sounded much more interesting to work for him than actual death. There must be some mistake because I was sent here with a message for Hhh..." Mattie freezes.

"Dream sent you?" Hob tilts his head in interest. This was the Matthew he had often mentioned? A raven that carried his messages? Hob had been jealous over a bird?! (Oh Christ, how embarrassing.)

"Wait... what the fuck are you doing in Hob GaaaaAAHHHH!" Mattie the Raven starts hopping around frantically. "YOU ARE NOT JUST IN HOB GADLING'S STORAGE UNIT. YOU ARE HOB GADLING! FRIEND OF THE LORD MORPHEUS, KING OF DREAMS AND NIGHTMARES!"

Hob can't help his laughter. "Oh, he told you I was his friend, did he?" That Dream had called him friend to someone else shouldn't feel as good as it did. Hob tamps that useless bit of emotion down hard. (No good can come of that, better to put it away.) "Only took him six centuries to get there, stubborn wanker that he is." He fails to keep the fondness from his voice. 

"Christ you have no idea how much of a wanker sometimes..." Mattie shuffles his feathers. "Look, I gotta know the story here, man. How did you meet the King of Dreams?"

Hob stands, brushing off his jeans. "That... is a rather long story." He considers for a minute, barely that, rubbing at the back of his neck, before coming to a decision. "Look, it isn't like I get my close friends back from the dead every day... how about we head back to my flat, pull up something ridiculous like Slenderman, and I will fill you in on my story? Like old times?"

Mattie flaps over and lands on Hob's shoulder. "Hells to the yes. Especially if we can find out if ravens respond to THC. Shit, you ever get more of that Amnesia shit the team picked up in Amsterdam during that art heist job?"

Hob's belly laugh echoes in the small room. "I think I still have some squirreled away from my last trip to the continent." 

He locks the storage unit behind them. All the spring cleaning can happen another day. 

___________________________________

They did not, upon making it back to Hob’s flat above The New Inn, actually end up watching their intended horror movie. Instead, as they were flipping through options, they stumbled upon the live-action remake of Aladdin and Mattie had been so damned adamant that he wanted to see it while high that Hob had allowed the deviation from their established pattern. 

“That bird is a fucking useless sidekick. I will show you how to do it!” Matthew stands, wobbles, and falls off where he had been balanced on the arm of Hob’s couch.

Hob cackles, slouching back into the cushions. “Well, that’s your answer to the question about birds and THC, innit?” 

Matthew flapped his way up onto the space next to Hob. “Hey, I am still getting used to this stupid body without any fucking thumbs.” 

“Fair enough.” He shrugs, sinking even further back and letting the movie drift into the background, a gentle blanket of familiar songs. “So I can feel you trying to not ask questions. Ask away, Mattie. I owe you that much, at least.”

“Fucking right you do, faking your death like that caw.” The raven shakes his head. “Where even to start… Oh! I got it! When and how did you meet the King of Dreams and Nightmares? That must have been a trip and a half.”

The memory makes Hob even warmer and he feels himself grinning as he looks at the ceiling. “I was drinking with my pals at a tavern, the White Horse, in the year of our lord thirteen hundred and eighty nine…”

“Wait. The fuck? You are…” Mattie clearly stops to count for a blink, “almost seven hundred years old?”

“That I am, now let me finish… I rather loudly proclaimed that I had decided not to die. Just wasn’t going to fucking do it. And that was when he approached the table,” Hob closes his eyes, the swooping feeling of seeing Dream for the first time still razor sharp in his memory. Should he tell Mattie? Well, he had never been dishonest with the man before, no reason to start now. So Hob let all his emotional walls down. “And I swear to God, Mattie, it was like seeing a meteor shower for the first time. It was like discovering a second moon. I was absolutely dumbstruck by the beauty of this cocky young Lordling, all standing before me like he owned half the country. Looked it too, with that giant fucking ruby around his neck and his fine clothing.” Hob shakes his head, grin widening. “He offered me a deal. If I wanted unending life, then I could come back to that tavern on the same day at the same time one hundred years hence and tell him of my experiences of life so long-lasting. And here I am.” When Mattie doesn't immediately respond, Hob opens his eyes and turns his head. “What?”

The raven was studying him intently. When he spoke it was carefully metered and very much not in jest. “Robbie. I might be a bird now, but I would know that expression on your face anywhere. Do you… Are you…”

He didn’t need to put words to it, Hob knew exactly what his friend meant. He shrugged. “Aye, I probably am. But you have to understand, Mattie, he has been the only constant in my whole long life. Hundreds of relationships. Thousands of friendships. Centuries of life. And he was my only anchor.” Hob lets himself drift on that thought for a moment before coming back. “Did you know that I didn’t know his name until a few months ago when he showed up at the New Inn?”

“What?! What kind of asshole doesn’t give his – oh, wait, this is Dream I am talking about, isn’t it…”

Hob laughs. “You are very correct. Dream’s stubbornness is only surpassed by his beauty.”

“Wow. You’ve got it bad.”

“Most likely.” Hob inclines his head. “But I am happy with whatever type of relationship he is capable of with me."

The raven whistles. "Got it baaaad."

____________________________

And so it happens that Hob and Mattie are stonedly bickering over if Will Smith’s portrayal of the Genie was a good homage or a bad mockery (all while A Whole New World starts up in the background) when the King of Dreams and Nightmares steps out of nothingness and into Hob’s living room.

“Matthew! You were told to deliver a message, not spend an entire day-”

Hob cuts Dream off with an overdramatic, “OoooOOOOoooh, Mattie, you are in trooooouble.” Dream’s stern face snaps to Hob’s and he slaps a hand over his mouth while he giggles none-too-loudly, “OooooOOOh, now I am in trooooouble.”

That makes Mattie burst into giggles and let it be known that the giggle of a raven is not actually a pleasant sound to take in.

So it makes Hob laugh harder.

Then he sees Dream’s absolutely bewildered expression.

And that makes Hob laugh even harder.

Sobbing as he laughs, collapsed to the floor (having initially fallen clear off the couch in surprise at Dream’s entrance), clutching his belly, Hob can’t even bring himself to worry that Dream might actually be angry with him. Fuck, Hob just got Mattie back. This is fucking great.

Hob wipes at his face as his hysterics subside, trying to keep his voice steady as he addresses Dream from his place on the floor. “I’m sorry, m’love, I didn’t mean to patronize you, I just-” He cuts himself off when he sees, for the first time, a petal-pink blush color his Stranger’s cheeks.

“You called him your love!” Mattie cackles. Hob feels himself blush now, too. That was a slip. That shouldn’t have happened. (Ah, bollocks.) “You are so in for it now. The Boss hates pet names! Once I tried to call him Lord Mew-mew because he was acting like a wet fucking cat and-”

“Enough.” Dream waves his hand to his Raven and the bird is immediately silenced. “Matthew, leave us. I am not asking.”

“Aww, maannn.” Mattie shakes himself off and seems to become shockingly sober with just a ruffle of feathers. “Roger that, Boss. See you back at home.” Then he nods to Hob. “We should do this again sometime.” 

Before Hob can respond Mattie has taken wing and flown out a window that definitely was not open a moment ago. When he looks back up it is to have Dream’s hand in front of his face, gently offering to help him stand. Hob takes it, if only for the excuse to touch his Stranger’s skin for the first time. (His touch is cool, his fingers long and uncalloused, his skin smooth. Hob memorizes every sensation greedily.)

Dream seems to realize this once Hob is on his feet because the blush deepens slightly and he retracts his hand with a jerky motion. 

“I am sorry if I offended you, Dream.” Hob takes a step to the side and tries to catch his friend’s eye. Dream keeps purposefully looking away. “It is just a silly human endearment. I am rather high on some excellent weed and I didn’t mean-”

“Ah.” Dream interrupts and Hob’s jaw clicks shut. Dream is still not looking at him and so Hob can see the way the muscles in his jaw flex with tension. “Just a silly endearment. You did not mean it.” 

Something fiery swoops inside Hob. Dream has never acted like this. Never avoided Hob’s eyes. Never interrupted him. And all because Hob had accidentally called him love.

See, thing is, Hob does mean it. More than he has words for. But never did he think… Dream couldn’t possibly. Fuck. Hob is too high to think clearly about this.

Hob steps into Dream’s line of sight, forces the slightly taller anthropomorphic personification to meet his eyes. Why it comes out a whisper when Hob speaks he will never know. “Dream. Do you want me to mean it? Do you want me to call you,” he hesitates for a moment because this could ruin everything. (But look at him! Look at the hurt in his expression, the tension in his shoulders. He does not hide it well, now that Hob knows what to look for - thanks, Sophie.) “my love?”

It is answer enough to see Dream’s pupils dilate and his nostrils flare. Oh fuck. Oh fuck. Oh fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck. 

He is shaking when he goes to take Dream’s hand, brings it up to press a kiss to those beautiful fingers. “If I am reading this wrong then please please let’s just chalk it up to the THC and pretend this never happened. But…” Hob takes the last step in and now they are almost chest-to-chest, “I thought you would have figured it out after 1689… you are my guiding star. It is you who I wait decades for. You who I hope to impress with my experiences. You who I have yearned to touch with every fiber of my being for literal centuries.” Dream is blinking wide eyes at him now, confusion and surprise and hope all written there. “And if your friendship is all I can have, then so be it. But, Dream. If I had three wishes I would spend them all just to be able to call you love.”

[seiya-starsniper]

(angst prompts) ❛ i’m sorry, have we met? ❜

TJ I HOPE YOU'RE READY FOR THIS. I decided to continue the prompt from @valeriianz [Part 1 Here] to make it more angsty. But also kind of hopeful? Maybe???????

cw: major character death, memory loss

----------

“Will you give me a sweet dream before I go, old friend?” Hob asks.

Dream’s eyes widen, and he is sure the shock in them must be clear, because Hob startles a laugh.

“Yeah,” Hob coughs, and new blood spurts forth from his lips. “Been here long enough to figure out who you were. Why they wanted,” he hacks again, “you or your sister. I was never going to give you up.”

“I know,” Dream says. “But you must not - “

“I’ve lived a good life,” Hob interrupts him. “But I think it’s time. I’m just happy it was you who came for me, Dream of the Endless.”

“No,” Dream replies, voice trembling. “For you, you may simply call me Dream.”

“Dream,” Hob sighs, awash with a new wave of contentment. “I like that. Lovely name.”

“Thank you, my friend,” Dream says, before he steels himself for what he must do.

“I will give you the sweetest of dreams,” Dream says, trying and failing miserably to keep his voice steady. “Once you are there, you may call upon my sister, and…she will give you her gift.” 

“Sounds,” Hob stutters, “sounds good to me.”

It is little effort for Dream to call forth his sand and place Hob into a deep sleep. In the Dream, he recreates what might have been, in 1989, were Hob not captured, and Dream were a better friend. 

It is not long before he feels the presence of his sister.

“Dream,” Death says, her tone soft and kind. “You must let him go now.”

Dream clutches Hob’s body even tighter. 

“Please sister,” Dream pleads. “Do not take him from me yet.”

“You know that is not my choice to make,” Death replies. “It is his time, and he has made his choice.”

“Will you tell me what his choice it is?”

Death smiles sadly. “You know I cannot.”

—

Hob is running through a field of poppies, his beloved dog at his side. He has been running for some time, he thinks, and yet he is neither tired nor hungry. 

He stops when he feels himself being watched, and when he looks over his shoulder, his dog has padded over to a pale man dressed all in back. 

“Hello,” the man says, first to the dog, and then to Hob himself. 

“Hello!” Hob greets the stranger enthusiastically. “I - I’m sorry, have we met before? You look awfully familiar.”

“No,” the man answers, and Hob thinks he sounds a bit sad about that. Something lurches in Hob’s chest, and he thinks he should rectify the man’s sadness immediately.

“Well, you seem like a kind person, so I’d like to get to know you, if that’s all right,” Hob says, offering his hand out.

The man nods, and grasps Hob’s outstretched hand firmly.

“I am Dream,” the stranger says. “I am lord of all that inhabits the Dreaming. You…you passed in your sleep, Hob Gadling.”

 “You were offered a place to stay here, which you,” the man pauses, “which you accepted.”

Hobs’ eyes widen, and he lets go of Dream’s hand then falls to his knees. “My lord, forgive my impudence, my memories from when I was alive have fled me it seems.” He hopes he has not offended Dream. He does not want to be banished. He wants to stay, he wants-

“Rise, Hob," Dream says. "You may be subject to my realm but I - I was hoping that we…we may become friends.”

Hob scrambles up off his knees immediately, and before he can think any better of it, he tugs Dream into a bone crushing hug. He feels the dreamlord stiffen for just a moment, before his arms rise slowly to return the hug.

“I would like that very much, my lord,” Hob says when he withdraws from Dream.

“Please,” Dream replies. “You may just address me as Dream.”

“Dream,” Hob says. “That’s a lovely name.” Something complicated flashes across Dream’s expression, but it’s gone before Hob can examine it further.

“Thank you,” Dream answers, just the barest hint of a smile crossing his face. “Would you like a drink?”

A table with wine and cheese materializes itself next to where they’re standing, and Hob sits down eagerly. Dream follows shortly after, pouring out a glass for each of them. 

They sit, and then begin to talk.

Send me an Angst Prompt!

[silver-hwaberry]

THIRTEEN: like high school again

Warnings: suggestive content, mild after sex bruising, some ‘mean girl’ attitudes, swearing

Word count: 5.7K

Taglist: @kiwibaekie @fudgeflyssworld @kodzukein @elk-1998 @khjcoo @pepperony-7 @ateez-babygirl​

“Morning princess.” Mingi whispers into my ear, wrapping his arms around me from behind as I jump slightly.

“No! You should still be in bed!” I whine, “Why are you up?” I ask turning in his arms to face him.

“Because I woke up to find a giant empty space beside me and a delicious and alluring smell of bacon coming through the door.” He smiles at me.

“I was trying to surprise you with breakfast in bed.” I pout up at him, my hands flat on his bare chest, moving slowly upwards.

“It should be me making you breakfast.” He grins. “Especially after last night.”

I feel myself blush as I remember the night before. In an attempt to hide my pink cheeks, I pull his head into my neck as I go up on my tiptoes to hug him. I instantly regret doing this as his lips begin to kiss my neck, moving down to my chest.

“Still wearing my shirt I see.” He mumbles, opening one button to reveal the peak of my breasts. “And no bra on either.” He tuts before opening another. “It’s almost like you wanted me to find you in here like this.” His lips move lower as he opens the top of the shirt and places kisses on my breasts.

“Mingi…” I whine pathetically as my head falls back when his lips connect with my nipple. My fingers thread through his hair as he teases it with his tongue before doing the same to the other one.

Mingi suddenly spins us around and lifts me onto the island counter. “At least you are wearing shorts.” He chuckles as he pulls my legs around his waist before kissing me. My arms wrap loosely around his shoulders as I smile into the kiss. His hands move up from my thighs to my waist and around my back. The kiss is slow and soft, but full of passion, too. Little moans and whines coming from us both as we press our bodies closer. One of his hands goes to my thigh, squeezing the flesh before moving underneath the shirt and resting on my lower back.

We are so lost in one another we don’t notice the bacon start to burn until the smell hits us. Mingi immediately pulls away from me and moves the pan off the hob, turning it off at the same time.

“Guess the bacons ruined.” He laughs as he shows me the blackened meat 

“Yeah, there is no saving that.” I giggle as he puts in the bin. “Can’t believe you made me burn my food!”

“Well, maybe next time I won’t give you kisses.” he grins, placing his hands flat on the counter on either side of my hips.

“No!” I pout playfully, pulling him towards me. “I want your kisses.”

“hmm, I don’t know. What if my lips distract you again?” he teases as his lips ghost over my own.

“Next time, I’ll turn the gas off so you can distract me with these lips as much as you want.” I grin before kissing him once more.

“Since the bacon is now ruined, how about I make us something?” he asks as our lips 

“You want to cook for me?” I ask, raising my eyebrows at him.

“I didn’t say cook!” He chuckles. “Unless putting milk into cereal and bread into a toaster counts as cooking.” “Bread in the toaster possibly, but milk in cereal, not so much.” I laugh 

“So toast then?” He grins. His lips are so close to mine that I can feel his breath. “That way I can say I cooked for you!”

“Toast sounds good!” I nod softly, kissing him.

He lifts me off the island counter and puts me on the ground, placing a soft kiss on my forehead. I wince lightly at a slight burning in my thighs. Thankfully, Mingi doesn’t see it. We get to work on the toast, Mingi asking if I can make him a cup of my ‘british tea’. I am always trying to convert people to this type of tea as it is honestly the best tea ever, so hearing him ask makes me happy, and smile like an idiot as I pour him a mug. I begin with one sugar and a drop of milk and get him to try it, adjusting each component until it’s at a level he likes and it seems 4 teaspoons of sugar and a standard amount of milk is how he likes it. For me, it is lots of milk and 2 sugars. We eat our toast and drink our tea in the dining area before washing up and going into the lounge.

“When are you going for your run?” Mingi asks as we sit down on the sofa.

“I don’t feel up to it this morning.” I reply as he opens his arms for me to cuddle into him.

“Are you ok?” He asks. “It isn’t like you not to go for a run.”

“I am fine.” I smile at him as we hear someone come downstairs. “More than fine, actually. Just tired from last night.” I add quietly. “In a good way.” I lean up to kiss his cheek. 

While I was tired, I didn’t want to tell him that my thighs and legs were feeling rather tender. When I had woke up this morning, they were aching and there were some bruises on them from the previous nights activities. I was reluctant to let Mingi see them in case he thought he had hurt me, so I pull the bottom of his shirt over my thighs more to cover them.

“Good morning!” Yunhos usual cheery voice says as he walks to the kitchen.

“Morning!” Mingi and I say at the same time and in the same tone, but our eyes focused on one another.

“Did I really tire you out that much?” He whispers, his fingers touching my neck.

“Anyone want coffee?” Yunho’s voice comes from the kitchen

“Well, not so much the first time, but by the third time, I was exhausted.” I grin at him as his face comes closer to mine. “I don’t even know how you had the stamina for that 4th round.” A small giggle escapes me as he looks very pleased with himself.

“Well, to be honest, the 4th time was a lazy spoon.” He smirks as he pulls me onto his lap sideways.

“Lazy? You were rather spirited towards the end.” I raise my eyebrows at him as I wrap my arms around his shoulders 

“Coffee? Anyone?” Yunhos voice says again, louder this time.

“We are good.” Mingi replies to him, leaning over. “It was hard not to get ‘spirited’ when you were moaning my name so beautifully, digging your nails into my arm and making me feel so good.” His lips finally touching mine.

I kiss him back as we both giggle. His arms pull me closer to him. I feel like I cannot get enough of him. He has me held tightly to his body, his hands on my waist, his lips on mine, and despite that, I want more of him. I break the kiss to ask if he wants to go back to my bedroom when Yunhos teasing voice comes from the doorway stops me. “So I am assuming you two had a good night?”

I find myself putting my head into Mingis neck, knowing my face is turning red. I feel his arms move higher around me in a protective manner.

“Yunho.” Mingi warns lightly

“I am just messing with you.” Yunho chuckles as I turn my head to look at him while still keeping it safely in Mingis neck. “I am sorry Luna.” he adds with a more sincere tone as he sits on the other side of the sofa from us

“It is ok, I know you are only teasing.” I say “I should go get a shower. I need to leave for the office soon.”

“I can take my coffee upstairs if you two want some more time alone.” Yunho replies as I push myself up from Mingis lap. His hands hold on to my hips, helping to keep me steady. “I hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable with what I said.”

“Of course you didn’t. I genuinely need a shower. I feel so icky from last night.” I say as Mingi stifles a laugh and I realise what I’ve said. “I mean from the sweat.” I add, Yunhos turn to hide a laugh “because it was hot! In bed! My room was hot!” With each sentence, I am making it worse and I can feel my face getting redder as they both begin to laugh. “I am just going to shut up.” I say, covering my face.

“Oh princess, don’t be embarrassed.” Mingi laughs as I feel his hands move around my waist, his head resting on my stomach.

“I am not embarrassed, you two are just dirty minded!” I laugh, taking my hand away from my face to play with Mingis hair, but inside I am a tiny bit embarrassed at my stumbling attempt to put across what I meant. It doesn’t help that I am standing here wearing the shirt Mingi was wearing yesterday during his birthday live and Mingi is still in only his boxers. It’s pretty obvious to Yunho that we were together last night.

“I’ll come too. I need to get my things from your room.” Mingi says standing up.

“I’ll see you later on.” I say to Yunho as he smiles back at me, taking a sip of his coffee. Mingi follows me into my bedroom. As I look out my clothes for the day, he collects his things from my bedroom floor. I take off his shirt and replace it with my fluffy dressing gown.

“Thank you for yesterday.” He smiles at me as I hand the shirt back to him. “I enjoyed spending the day with you and the night, too. And not just because of the sex. I’ve loved falling asleep with you in my arms and waking up to you beside me too the past 2 nights.”

“Me too.” I smile as he puts his arms around my shoulders. “I am glad we got time alone together.”

“So am I, princess.” He says before kissing me. I smile into the kiss at the sound of his nickname for me. No one has ever called me this and I like it. I like all the nicknames so far. Seonghwas darling, Yunhos little one, Sans sunshine. It made me feel special to them. The kiss is soft and affectionate. When our lips part he whispers “I hope you know how happy you make all of us.” and instantly my face heats and I know I am blushing like crazy but he pulls me into his body and my face is hidden from view in his bare chest. “I will let you get into the shower.” He says after a few moments of cuddling. “I’ll see you later, though.”

He pulls away from me to look at my face and I pray the blushing has calmed down. It’s still hot so I am not hopeful it has but if it is he isn’t letting on he can see it. Instead, he leans down and kisses me once more before finally letting go of my body. I watch as he puts his trousers on and the shirt that I was wearing the entire night. He smiles softly and says, “smells just like you.”

“I hope that’s in a good way and not a stinky way.” I laugh.

“A very good way. I can smell your perfume on it faintly. I love the way you smell. In a nonperverted way!” He chuckles. “It calms me. Probably why I have slept so well these past 2 nights.”

“Well, I can always spray something with my perfume so you can smell me whenever you want to.” I offer.

He smiles widely at me and I feel a flutter in my heart at how beautiful his smile is, how it honestly lights up the room and makes me smile back at him. “I would really like that.”

An hour later, I am showered and ready to leave for work. Everyone is upstairs getting ready for their own day of work, so I am in the kitchen making sure I have everything I need when Jongho walks in. He stops when he sees me and takes 2 steps backwards and goes around the corner again. I don’t think he realises I saw him out the corner of my eye as my head is down while I finish packing my things. 

He was still reluctant to be alone with me and while I understand why; it was beginning to hurt a little. I was trying hard to put him at ease and be comfortable around me, but there was still some barrier between us. It was mind-boggling too, as we are really chatty to one another but the second we are alone; it is awkward silence, and he leaves as quickly as he can. I am surprised when he comes back in to the kitchen moments after backing out of it. 

“Morning.” He smiles at me, his hand touching my back as he walks past me. I am surprised at the touch, but I don’t mind it either. “Are you coming to the studio with us?” He asks me as he pours himself a coffee

“I will be there later for the fancalls but hopefully I can get there before the performance, but I have 2 meetings in the office today.” I answer, putting my laptop in my bag. “I have my first work review, too.” I sigh lightly as I feel the nerves bubble inside my stomach. 

“You aren’t worried about it, are you?” He asks, walking over to me.

“I keep trying to tell myself it will be fine. It will be like work reviews I’ve had in the past, but I am really anxious.” I decide to be honest instead of putting a fake smile on and lying to him. I softly rub my wrist through my sleeve. It was something I did when I would feel anxious. It was more for reassurance that I am OK, that although I am anxious in that moment that things are not as bad as they once were, and not about hurting myself.

“Please don’t worry.” He says.

“I know I shouldn’t, but I love this job more than anything. It’s what I’ve wanted to do since I was a kid, what I studied for and came to Korea for. If I lose this job, I don’t know what I will do.” I say, “and then I’ll have to leave you all.” I add quietly 

“Hey, don’t think like that, sweetheart.You aren’t going anywhere.” His hand delicately cups my cheek. I feel my stomach flip at both his touch and the affectionate name. “It will go well. You are the best English teacher we’ve had. You have nothing to worry about.” he carries on, his thumb stroking my face.

“I hope so.” I sigh lightly.

“You want me to break an apple in half?” He grins as I laugh.

He knows how much I love his apple breaking skills.

“Maybe later. If the review goes badly, then I will bring an apple and you can make me forget it with your mad skills.” I say.

“Deal, but it won’t go badly. Trust me.” He smiles. “Still bring an apple, though. I need to impress you and if apple breaking is it, then I’ll break all the damn apples.”

“You don’t need to impress me.” I smile at him.

We share a little moment of silence as we both smile at one another. It isn’t often we are alone like this. “Luna, I was wondering if we could…” He begins but Wooyoung shouting from the lounge that Myeonjin was pulling into the private garage downstairs, makes him stop and he pulls his gaze away from me. I feel my body shift slightly, wondering what he was going to ask, and a little frustrated he got interrupted. Obviously not at anyone in particular, just in general. 

I am about to ask him what he was saying when he lifts my bag and puts it over my shoulder, gently removing my hair from the strap so it didn’t get caught. I feel suddenly shy as he smiles at me. This is the most affectionate he has been with me.

“It’s cold this morning.” He says, pulling both sides of my long grey coat together and doing the buttons. My heart is racing and I pray he can’t feel it through my chest as his fingers close the buttons at the top of my coat.

“You look really pretty today.” He says quietly, his hand touching my face again. “Well, everyday I mean. But especially today.” He adds rather quickly as I smile gently at how flustered he has suddenly become.

“Thank you Jongho.” I say softly. “I guess I’ll see you later at the studio.” I reluctantly move away from him and towards the hallway.

“Luna!” I hear him say, causing me to turn around. I see he is holding up an apple in both hands and he very easily and perfectly splits it down the middle, a massive smile on his face.

“Bravo!” I laugh and clap as he hands me one half.

“Eat this in the car and don’t worry about your meetings.” He smiles at me before taking a bite from the other half.

As I walk into the hallway to put my shoes on, I see Yeosang standing there with a smile on his face, holding my usual sneakers in his hand. “What are you doing?” I giggle as he signals for me to sit down on the small bench.

“Putting your sneakers on for you.” He smiles as I sit down. A small hiss escapes me as a pain shoots through my legs at dropping onto the bench too quickly 

“Are you okay?” He asks looking into my eyes 

“Fine, sat down too fast. Hit my back off the wall. My clumsiness kicking in as usual!” I laugh. I wasn’t about to tell him my legs were aching because Mingi and I were having sex most of the night!

“As long as you are not hurt!” He says 

“I am all good!” I smile at him.

I watch his face as he puts my sneakers on and ties them. I’ve never had someone do these things for me, little things like this, but I am enjoying these things they all do for me. He fixes the bottom of my trousers over the sneakers before standing up and holding out his hand for me. As soon as I am upright, his lips capture mine. It takes me by surprise, but I melt into him. My fingers grip onto the sides of his t-shirt. One hand cups my cheek and the other moves to my lower back, pulling me closer to him as he backs me up against the wall. 

This was twice now he has got me in the hallway, trapped between himself and the wall and I was not complaining at all. I like this side of Yeosang, the assertive, almost dominant side that I never expected from him. My mind wonders if he is this way in bed, too, which causes my fingers to grip his T-shirt tighter at the sheer idea of it. My thoughts are interrupted when he pulls his lips away from mine.

“I’ll see you at the studio later.” He says, his tone is more of a question than a statement.

“Of course.” I reply, looking into his brown eyes. “I will be there as soon as I’ve finished at the office.”

“Good.” He sighs lightly, almost in relief that I will be there. “I’ll let you go to work.” He pulls away from me more, but I lean forward and kiss his lips once more. Craving just one more fleeting kiss from him before I have to leave. He smiles shyly at me when we part and he opens the door for me. “I’ll see you later.” I say, smiling at him as I walk out the door. Once again, I walk towards the lift as if I am floating on a cloud. This was becoming a habit now.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The conference room is already busy when I walk in. I find a seat in the corner and sit down. I hadn’t really had a proper chance to speak to the other staff members yet, and this was my first official meeting, too. Everyone was talking happily to one another as I sat by myself. In the opposite corner I see the 2 staff members from the other day. They are whispering things to one another and giggling. Just like the other day.

“Ok, everyone is here, so let’s get started.” Myeonjin says as he walks in.

The entire room goes quiet and I see most people opening their laptops and begin typing. I quickly open mine and log in. This is my first meeting, and no one has briefed me on what it was about, what I would do in it, etc. So I decide to just copy what others are doing. I notice the guy beside me has a text document open, so I open mine.

“We have a lot of things coming up so everyone will be busy. As usual, I urge you all to work together and help others wherever possible!” He says, his eyes focusing on the 2 women in the corner. “Once promotions are over, we have a lot of filming schedules coming up. Both as a group and individually.”

My eyes shift to the laptop beside me and I see the guy is typing pretty much what Myeonjin is saying.

“Before we start, it is important that you all need to know that we have a member of staff who has severe allergies.” He says as I feel my stomach drop. I did not know he was going to mention this. I look up from my laptop at him, my eyes wide. “While on tour and in the office, there will be no seafood available.” I hear a couple of people groan lowly, clearly annoyed.

“Why?!” I hear one of the women asks loudly

“Because it is too dangerous, Chaeyoung!” Myeonjin sighs

“So why not just keep that ‘member of staff’ away from the food and let us enjoy what we want to eat?” She asks. I notice she looks me dead in the eyes and has a tone of disgust in her voice as she says ‘member of staff’. I suddenly feel very self-conscious.

“That is not how it works. A food allergy as severe as this needs to be taken serious. If you want seafood, you are welcome to buy your own and consume it in a safe place.” He replies. “I am sure you all remember the peanut incident last year!”

“So because one person can’t tolerate it, we have to use our own money to buy our own?” She continues. “How is that fair? It is just one person!!”

“A food allergy is a little more than not being able to ‘tolerate’ a certain food!” one of the hair stylists Jiyeon says. “Because someone left peanuts in the makeup room at my workstation, I ended up in hospital!” I didn’t realise she had a food allergy. 

“So dramatic! You coughed, got a shot with that thing in your bag and were fine!” Chaeyoung scoffs and I am shocked. At her attitude and her words. Anaphylaxis shock is more than a cough. Having to get an epi-pen shot isn’t nice and you certainly aren’t ‘fine’ after it either. Even a small one can leave you exhausted for days afterwards. I see Jiyeon shoot Chaeyoung daggers with her eyes before looking away from her.

“Chaeyoung I will not argue with you on this matter!” Myeonjin interjects. “We will still provide food for staff members, but if anyone wants seafood, you pay for it yourself, consume it in a safe manner and not in a work environment either.”

“This is bullshit.” The other woman says under her breath, but loud enough for everyone in the room to hear. Which is exactly what she wanted, given the smirk on her face right now.

“Same goes for you, Iseul! If anyone else has a problem with this, then feel free to come talk to me about it. I will not discuss this any further in here!” He says sternly.

My eyes look towards the 2 women and I can see them staring at me. Their eyes are narrowed, and it is making me feel really uncomfortable. I begin to wonder what I did to make them act this way towards me when I have had none direct contact with them yet.

“Ignore them.” I hear from beside me. I look at the guy who’s laptop I kept looking at seeing him smile at me. “They are always causing a fuss about something. It’s like high school all over again with those two around!” I smile politely at him and bow my head slightly. “I know we haven’t properly met yet, but I am Hyunshik.”

“It’s nice to meet you. I am Luna.” I whisper back before Myeonjin continues.

“First things first, we have the upcoming trip to LA for KCon. There are a lot of schedules for them while we are there. Not just performing, and interviews but fansigns and in person events. Luna, you will be working at every event if the guys need any help with their English.” He says, looking at me as I nod and type what he has said. I hear yet another snigger from across the table. I wonder what their problem is and why they keep laughing in my direction. “If it isn’t too much trouble for everyone to pay attention please!” he adds, looking at them

“Sorry.” Iseul says, but you could tell there was nothing genuine in her apology at all.

“We have provisional dates for the Europe tour in the new year, but we won’t be announcing them until we have confirmation from the venues. Luna, I’ll have a meeting with you closer to the time to discuss the live onstage translations.” I nod and type away on my laptop. “First, we have the US tour dates ready to be released later this week. We have completed the tour set list. The band’s rehearsals will begin as soon as the promotions are over. Stylists will have a meeting tomorrow to begin work on the outfits.”

The rest of the meeting goes without anymore interruptions. If you ignore the whispering and quiet giggles from Chaeyoung and Iseul that is! When it is finished I pack my things.

“It was nice to meet you properly.” Hyunsik says to me.

“You too!” I smile at him.

“Not everyone is like the mean twins over there.” he tilts his head towards them. “Most of us are nice! Some of us are going out for a meal tomorrow night. You are more than welcome to join us.”

“That would have been nice, but I already have plans. Sorry!” I say. San and I had already planned to watch some more of The Sound of Magic after work.

“Maybe next time! We usually go out once a month.” he replies.

“Yeah, maybe.” I nod, smiling. “Anyway, I better go. I have my first work review meeting and then I am going to the studio for the fan calls.”

“I’ll see you around.” he smiles back before picking up his laptop and leaving the conference room.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

When I walk into the band’s private waiting area at the studio, they are all sitting around. I suddenly feel everything from today pile on top of me and my body feels really heavy. Yunho is the first to see me walk in and comes over.

“How were your meetings?” He asks, hugging me placing a subtle kiss on my forehead

“They were fine.” I reply, forcing a smile.

“No, they weren’t. What happened?” He leans down to look into my eyes. Yunho always seems to know when things aren’t right and quick to pick up on other peoples emotions. I was a fool to think he wouldn’t notice. The others are looking at me now as I drop my bag onto the table and sigh.

“Was it your work review meeting?” Jongho asks, standing up from his seat, and I can see the concern in his eyes. 

“No Jongho, my work review actually went amazing.” I say, looking at him. “All positive!” I rub at my wrist, feeling my anxiety creep in as all their eyes are on me now. I notice Hongjoongs eyes looking at it, so I immediately stop.

“I told you it would be fine.” He smiles at me.

“What happened in your other meetings?” Hongjoong asks 

“Nothing really happened.” I lie. I don’t want to tell them about Chaeyoung and Iseul. “Myeonjin mentioned my allergies in the main meeting, and I didn’t know he was going to do it. It just took me by surprise, is all.”

“Ah, we didn’t know either.” Seonghwa says, putting his arm around my shoulders.

“I am so sorry! We should have spoken to him properly. Let him know how you feel about it all. What did he say?” Hongjoong asks.

“Just that a ‘member of staff’ has severe allergies and seafood won’t be allowed anymore. He was trying to be discreet by not naming me, but everyone knew it was me. I am the only new member of staff and there has never been a seafood issue before me. It just made me feel awkward, was all.” I say as they look at me. “I am fine now though, honestly!” I add as Wooyoung pulls me into his arms, placing a kiss on the side of my head. I put my arms around him and sink into his embrace, burying my head into his neck. I feel at ease now I am with them again.

After a line of greetings, hugs and some kisses from the others, they go back to what they were doing before I came in, but Hongjoong stays beside me.

“Luna, could I have a quick word with you? In private?” He asks quietly. I nod and follow him into a side room that is empty. He closes the door and turns to me. “Are you ok?”

“Yeah, I am fine! Honestly, I am.” I answer.

“I know you don’t enjoy being fussed over and I am sure being asked if you are ok falls heavily into that category, so I apologise.” He says, locking eyes with me. “But I need to know how you are really feeling. I… I don’t want anything to happen to you or for you to feel… you know.”

And I do know. It’s crystal clear he is talking about my mental health and what I did to myself, but he is trying to be discreet about the subject.

“The bipolar and the scars, you mean.” I say as he nods slowly. “You can say the words, you know. I won’t get upset.”

“I saw you were rubbing harshly at your arm.” He says. “I can’t lie, but it sort of made me concerned.”

“It is fine. I am not just saying that. It’s a thing I do whenever I feel a bit… overwhelmed, I guess, is the term to describe it. I don’t know how to explain why I do it without sounding crazy. Which is ironic given I have the crazy condition!” I say.

“I don’t want to hear you call yourself that. You aren’t crazy!” He says, stepping forward and reaching for my hand. “Just say it how it is. I won’t judge.” I know he won’t, but I’ve never actually said these words out loud. No one has ever noticed me doing it before either and if they have, they’ve never asked about it.

“When I do that, it’s not in a way to harm myself or that I am thinking of doing it, but it is in a way of comfort. It is like in that moment things may feel bad or overwhelming, but it isn’t as bad as it could be.” I answer, praying I am making some sense to him. “Sometimes I don’t realise I am doing it.”

“So you aren’t feeling the need to.. do anything then when you rub at it?” He asks. His eyes are big and I can see the genuine concern for me in them.

“Absolutely not!” I say, holding his hands tighter. “It is like a reminder that things are ok and that I am ok. It’s crazy, I know, but…” and I struggle to find the words to finish my sentence.

“It helps keep you grounded?” He ventures. I smile at him and nod because he got it in one. “Ok, that’s good. I understand.” He sighs lightly and honestly, he looks slightly relieved, too.

“Joongie, I don’t want you to worry about me. I’ve been stable for a long time and I can’t see anything changing that anytime soon. Not when I have 8 really amazing guys taking care of me the way you all do.” I say to him. He smiles at me, his hands letting go of mine and moving to my waist, pulling me into him. “And yes, while I don’t like being fussed over. For all of you, I think I can make the exception. It comes from a good place, and it is not overbearing.” 

“Are you actually giving us permission to fuss over you?” He grins at me, his arms moving higher.

“Maybe a little.” I giggle, putting my arms around his waist. “Today was a hard day, but now that I am here with you, I feel better now.” I rest my head on his shoulder, closing my eyes and enjoying this moment with him. “A lot better.” I sigh happily.

“I feel better too. Now you are here.” He replies.

[gabessquishytum]

whoever sent the student vampire ask ur brain is unfathomably large. i love student/teacher stuff tbh it surprises me that we’ve discussed fake student dream x hob but never actual student dream x hob. dream coming home to visit his family after his first week of uni telling death about his professor gadling’s expertise of history, only for desire to butt in about dream fucking him for a grade.

but the next semester around exams, when dream’s grades are slipping (and especially dr gadlings’, because dream knows hob is kind enough that if he struggled they could talk it out during office hours— he didn’t feel that comfortable with his other professors so he had to prioritize their classes), he thinks that maybe when he meets with hob after class, he should wear a pair of low-rise pants that hug his ass just right…with a too-small t-shirt he stole from one of his siblings— not quite a crop top but small enough that it rides up and shows that yes, he has a happy trail, and no, he’s not wearing underwear. and maybe hob tries to keep his cool, wants to convince himself that he wouldn’t take advantage of a student because it’s wrong and inappropriate, but he’s been jacking off to the thought of dream’s full lips and pert little ass for so many months he knows he has no choice but to give in to what they both want and hope they don’t get caught.

You’re so right, we haven’t covered this as much as we should!! I guess we should fix that 😏

Professor Gadling, well… he’s a great teacher, and he’s very kind and gentle when he feels like his students need that. But he isn’t necessarily a good man. He’s on the younger side for a professor and Dream sure isn’t the first to have a crush on him. He’s given out better grades for students who do “extra research” before, and if the extra research involved him getting a blowjob from a student under his desk, well… they’re technically all adults. No one has ever complained about him.

And here’s Dream standing in his office, all long limbs and shy glances. What is Hob supposed to do with him, honestly? He’s not paid enough to resist that.

Hob agrees to let him retake some papers, and pretty much promises him a good grade “for all the effort you’ve put in, Dream. I know you try so hard to be good, and I want to take that into account.”

Dream is quite happy to bend over Hob’s desk. It’s been a while since he’s been fucked, and Hob seems to know what he’s doing. He has Dream crying and kicking his legs in sheer desperation within a few short minutes, and he’s big - thick and fat from base to tip, like a real man. Dream thinks he’ll never make do with anyone his own age again.

He leaves the office sniffling and trembling. Hob hands him a tissue and gives him a gentle pat on the shoulder - the image of a compassionate professor comforting a student.

“Next time.” He says, soft in Dream’s ear - “wear some pretty panties for me, yeah? So I can stuff them in your sweet mouth, and no one will hear your slutty noises.”

[unpredictable-probabilities]

No Longer a Dream || Chapter 3: A Raven's Secret

Summary:

Hob helps Morpheus settle into the life of being human, and Morpheus’ new job inspires revelations.

Word Count: 3,464

---

Hob woke up to Morpheus’ sleeping face beside him. Their hands were beside each other on the pillow between them, and Hob wondered wistfully if they somehow held hands in their sleep.

Morpheus’ breathing remained relaxed and even; he looked much more comfortable now than he did yesterday morning when he woke up and hurried to leave.

Hob smiled, feeling a certain ache in his chest. Seeing Morpheus first thing in the morning. What a dangerous thing to get used to.

He got out of bed as slowly as he could so as not to wake up Morpheus. He went through his morning routine and headed to the kitchen to make breakfast.

The bacon had just finished cooking when Morpheus walked in, covering a yawn with his hand. His hair was a mess and his clothes were wrinkled. Something fluttered in Hob’s chest at the beautiful sight.

“Good morning,” Hob greeted cheerfully as he set the plate of bacon on the dining table beside the pancakes. “You’re just in time for breakfast.”

Morpheus followed him and sat down. “They smell good,” he observed, looking curiously at the food.

“Of course, it's a classic.” Hob untied the apron around his waist and hung it on the hook in the kitchen before joining Morpheus at the table. “I also made hot chocolate,” he gestured to the steaming cups in front of them.

Morpheus took his cup and raised it to his lips.

“Careful—”

“Ow!” Morpheus flinched away from the cup and stared at it in surprise.

“You okay?” Hob asked in concern.

Morpheus set the cup down on the table. “Extreme temperatures have never been a problem for me before. It would take some getting used to.” He gingerly touched his upper lip.

Hob felt proud of himself for not staring too long at that gesture. “I’ll warn you sooner next time,” he smiled apologetically. “Now that you actually have to eat, is there any dish you’d like to try? I plan on stopping by the grocery tomorrow after work.”

Morpheus furrowed his eyebrows thoughtfully. “I do not know. I have not eaten frequently enough to develop a preference. Just cook what you normally would, and I would be glad to try them.” He took a bite of the pancake with the butter and syrup on top, and his face lit up. “This one is something I would like to have again.”

“Consider it done,” Hob grinned. He’d cook anything just to see that expression on Morpheus’ face again.

They ate in peaceful silence for a while, then Morpheus spoke.

“Your work. Does it make you happy?”

“Yeah,” Hob nodded after a sip of hot chocolate. “Being a professor gives me access to entire fields of knowledge, so apart from teaching, I also learn a lot. And younger folk have a lot of potential, especially since they have a less jaded mindset about life compared to most adults. You know how I always find reasons to live. I like to believe that teaching allows me to help others find those reasons, too.”

Morpheus was staring at him with an expression he couldn’t quite read, and for a second Hob wondered if he had rambled too much. But then his friend smiled, the usual small smile that curved his lips in a way that was now so familiar to Hob.

“I am glad to see that your work makes you happy.” Morpheus glanced down at his plate for a moment, and his face turned a little wistful. “I do not know now what my purpose should be. Without my work in the Dreaming I have no function. I feel as if I am a broken compass.” His voice faded out, and his face looked like he was ashamed to even admit such things.

“Hey,” Hob said gently. “You’re much more than your function, Morpheus. Even if you don’t work in the Dreaming anymore, it doesn’t mean you’re broken, or any less you. And you know, that’s very human. Not knowing what your purpose in life is. I’d be lying if I said that I had never felt lost before. We can figure things out, don’t worry.”

Morpheus looked up at him. “We?”

“Yeah,” Hob tapped his foot nervously under the table. A part of him worried that he might be coming on too strong, but he decided to trust that Morpheus wouldn’t storm off even if he were. Besides, he wanted to be there for his friend. “You don’t have to figure it out on your own.”

The fond look alone that Morpheus gave him was worth the risk of expressing that sentiment.

“Sleeping is… more restful, than I had anticipated,” Morpheus said while idly moving around the last piece of the pancake on his plate with a fork. “When I was Dream Lord, my version of rest had always meant that I could sense the dreams in my realm. Sleeping without anything else to occupy my mind felt more comfortable, and I find that I prefer it.” His eyes met Hob’s. “It is good. Not being on my own.”

Hob could only smile as he looked right back at Morpheus. “Yeah. Yeah, it is.”

***

Most of the day was spent lounging on the couch while scouring the internet for hobbies and careers that might interest Morpheus, and eating pepperoni and mushroom pizza that Hob ordered.

Hob realised at some point that he and Morpheus were leaning against each other as they looked at his laptop screen. He had no complaints at all, and it seemed like neither did Morpheus.

Morpheus must have noticed Hob staring at him, because he looked over questioningly after taking a bite of pizza.

“Yes?” he asked with the piece of pizza between his teeth.

Hob had to bite back a smile that he was sure would have looked glaringly affectionate. “Is pizza also something you'd like to have again?”

Morpheus nodded. “It is. I do like this flavour, and I believe I would like to try other flavours as well.” He finished the slice and returned to looking at the laptop screen where they had compiled a list of nearby libraries that he wanted to visit.

By the end of the day, they had lists of different careers and hobbies that Morpheus would be interested in trying.

The conversation over dinner was the most relaxed and casual one they’d ever had. No century recaps from Hob, no vague mysterious answers from Morpheus. It really felt like they were old friends. And when it was time for bed, it only felt natural when Morpheus snuggled against Hob’s chest once more as they both fell asleep.

***

One of the perks of having been alive for so long was that Hob knew exactly how to create a fake identity. In every century there were always people who could forge legal documents and didn’t ask too many questions as long as one paid generously.

And so by next week Morpheus had a job at the library a short walk from The New Inn. It doubled as a coffee shop, and for the next several days Hob visited after his work, grading essays and exams on one of the tables while waiting for Morpheus to finish his shift.

Morpheus arched an eyebrow at him the first time, saying that he didn't need to be fetched like a child. But Hob had said that he liked the coffee there, and he wouldn't be distracted by his telly while he graded papers. Morpheus relented after Hob had bought him a chocolate éclair and an iced caramel macchiato.

On Saturday afternoon, Hob was surprised to see that Morpheus was waiting for him outside the university, holding a to-go cup and a paper bag with the cafe’s logo on it.

“To return the favour,” Morpheus said while handing the items to Hob. It was a cup of Earl Grey according to the label, and the small paper bag had a Danish pastry in it.

Hob smiled. “You didn’t have to do that. But thank you.” He took a sip of the tea.

“You did not want to go to that orientation this afternoon, and I thought you might appreciate your usual pastry and beverage after that ordeal,” Morpheus said as they started walking towards the bus stop.

“I do appreciate it. Thank you, love.”

Morpheus tilted his head slightly in curiosity. “Do you call all your friends that?”

“What?” Hob furrowed his eyebrows.

“Love.”

Hob felt his face warm. He didn’t realise he had let the endearment slip again. “Oh, um,” he cleared his throat. “No, not really. Do you mind it? I can stop saying that if it makes you uncomfortable.” Though he wasn’t sure how he could stop if he wasn't even aware that he was doing it.

There was the sound of brakes squealing and a bus stopped in front of them. They got on after some passengers went out, and found seats near the back.

Hob waited for Morpheus to sit first before he did; he knew by now that Morpheus preferred the window seat.

“I do not,” Morpheus said when the bus started moving again.

“Hm? Do not what?”

“Mind. When you call me love,” Morpheus said, looking right at him.

Hob’s breath hitched, and he was suddenly aware of how close they were to each other.

A loud horn sounded as a car suddenly cut in front of the bus. The driver swore loudly and righted the bus again after a slight swerve.

“I hope you’ve gotten used to public transport by now,” Hob said. “You could always get a licence if you’d prefer to drive. Shame you can’t teleport anymore, eh?”

Morpheus looked out the window onto the passing traffic. “Indeed.”

***

After dinner, Hob had his laptop open on the dining table to finalise the next month’s lesson plan. He had just about finished when Morpheus sat beside him.

“Hob. I am in need of your input about a story that I am writing. Are you currently available to listen to it?”

“You’re writing a story?” Hob practically beamed at him. He hit save on the document he was editing and closed his laptop. “Yeah, let’s hear it.”

His enthusiasm was rewarded by a fond smile from Morpheus. “After helping many young people find books at my work and volunteering on Read-Aloud Day for children, I realised that I wanted to create a story myself. I created dreams and nightmares for eons, but I had not before used only words.”

“Well I know I’d love to read any work from the Prince of Stories,” Hob grinned. “What’s the story about?”

“I wanted to try my hand at writing a children’s story, featuring two animals who go on an adventure together. Such stories often make the children at the library happy, and I endeavour to be able to create one.”

“That’s very sweet of you,” Hob smiled.

Morpheus frowned like he didn’t quite understand it.

“What?” Hob teased. “It is very sweet whether or not you admit it.”

Morpheus rolled his eyes but there was a dusting of pink on his cheeks.

“What can I help you with?” Hob asked in anticipation.

“I found myself stuck on how to write the ending. I was wondering if you would have any ideas.”

“Of course, I’d love to help. How does the story go?”

“The protagonists are a raven and a wolf. Early in the story, the raven’s wings became injured, and he was unable to fly. He formed a friendship with a wolf, and they spent their days together, with the wolf teaching the raven the joys of life on land. But the raven carried a secret. His wings had healed some time ago, and yet he had not told his friend. He feared that if the wolf knew he could fly again, he would be expected to go back to the forests, and it would be the end of their companionship.” Morpheus stopped speaking, and there was a hint of nervousness in his expression that most people wouldn’t have noticed.

“Okay, and that’s where you’re stuck at?” Hob asked gently. It must be frustrating for Morpheus to be experiencing writer’s block for the first time.

Morpheus met his eyes. “Do you think the wolf would be angry, to have been deceived so?”

“I don’t think so,” Hob furrowed his eyebrows thoughtfully. “When the raven tells him the truth, I think his reaction would be to reassure his friend that nothing would change in their friendship. Though you might want to write the wolf saying he would appreciate more honesty in the future, that friendship is built on trust and all that, especially since it’s a children’s book. I’m not imposing on how you should write your story,” Hob clarified quickly. “It’s just a suggestion. The wolf could promise honesty from himself, too.”

“You would prefer full honesty in a friendship, is that correct?”

“Hm? Me? Yeah, of course. I don’t know how your characters think, though. It’s still always up to you how you would write them.”

Morpheus just stared at him for a few moments, then a smile pulled at the corners of his mouth. “Your obliviousness is endearing.”

Hob blinked. Did Morpheus just call him endearing? Wait. “Obliviousness?”

“I can teleport, Hob.” Morpheus looked at him intently, as if gauging his reaction.

Oh. God, I’m an idiot, Hob thought as realisation dawned on him. The character in the story was a bloody raven too, one of Morpheus’ symbols.

“I tried it after my first day working at the library,” Morpheus averted his eyes. “In hindsight, I doubt that I was ever incapable of it. I never felt its absence, even if I am not the Dreamlord anymore.”

“Morpheus, love.” Hob turned in his seat to fully face him.

Morpheus looked at him again.

“Did you think I was going to send you away just because you can still teleport? I would never do that. We’ve spent some days chatting here after you first came back, right? When the Inn was too crowded? Your powers make no difference to me.”

Morpheus nodded. “I am aware. But… I like taking public transport. With you. It allows us to spend more time together.”

Hob’s mouth opened as he stared at Morpheus. A warm feeling began to spread in his chest and reached his face. “Why didn’t you just say so? Haven’t I said enough that I enjoy your company?” He almost reached out to touch Morpheus’ hand, but he held himself together.

Morpheus looked down as if embarrassed. “I am not certain… what the appropriate length of time is to spend among friends. That is what we are, correct?” He met Hob’s eyes.

“Of course. You’re my dearest friend, Morpheus. Nobody understands me like you do, and—” Hob stopped himself, it wouldn’t do to suddenly bombard Morpheus with six centuries’ worth of feelings. “And I hope I’ve proven myself to be the kind of friend that you can trust with those things. Being honest won’t drive me away from you.”

“And you would promise the same honesty to me?”

“I would. I do,” Hob said sincerely.

“Then answer me this. Why do you call me ‘love’? You had never done so before.”

“I…” The way Morpheus was looking at him made it very difficult to think of words. “I didn’t think you’d like it much. You did storm away when I said we were friends, so…” he chuckled nervously.

Morpheus was silent for a few moments. “I did. I walked down the street in the rain when I could have teleported away.”

Hob fell quiet too as he realised it. At the time, he had been so distressed that it didn’t even occur to him. But yes, if Morpheus really was that upset, he could have used his magic to get away as fast as possible.

“Just like how I walked away from your door that first morning, instead of using my powers to leave.”

“What are you saying…?” Hob felt that he almost understood, but it was like his mind couldn’t quite comprehend it.

“I wanted you to follow me.” Morpheus’ voice was so quiet that Hob wasn’t sure he heard correctly. “Just like I did in 1889.” Morpheus looked at him then, an open and vulnerable expression on his face that Hob felt honoured to see.

“You…” So many thoughts and questions were swirling around in Hob’s mind that it was hard to focus on just one.

“I had not realised it myself. Until I saw that you were following me. That day at the park. I felt… relieved.”

“But I didn’t follow you in 1889…” Hob said with a sinking feeling. What would have happened then, if he had only closed those last few steps of distance between them?

“You did,” Morpheus said with a small smile. “You followed me out of The White Horse. It was I who had kept walking away. And for that I am sorry.”

“Hey, you already apologised for that. It’s all good now. And we can still totally take public transport if that’s what you really want. But we can also hang out even when we’re not commuting, you know? Like at the café, or even here, and eat inadvisable amounts of pizza.”

Morpheus’ smile became much more relaxed. “You are very good to me. I do not know what I have done to deserve it.”

“I care a lot about you, Morpheus. You don’t need to do anything for me to feel that way. You will always have it.” You will always have me.

“I care a great deal about you as well, Hob Gadling,” Morpheus leaned forward in his seat, his voice soft and low. “I am sorry it took me this long to realise it. Love.” He reached up and touched Hob’s face, just the gentlest caress of his fingertips from Hob’s cheekbone down to his jawline.

“Morpheus,” Hob breathed. The touch set his skin alight, Morpheus’ cool fingers sending flames licking down to his nerve endings.

Time slowed down as Morpheus leaned even closer, his hand drifting down to the side of Hob’s neck, never more than a gentle touch.

Hob’s heart was hammering in his ribcage, as if it sensed how close Morpheus was and wanted to bridge the gap between them.

Questioning blue eyes met his, and Hob realised that Morpheus was waiting for his permission. He would readily give it, if his chest didn’t ache with anticipation and made words an impossible endeavour.

He grabbed the front of Morpheus’ shirt and pulled him close, leaning forward to meet him.

The feeling of Morpheus’ soft lips took his breath away. In the back of his mind he wondered if he was dreaming—it certainly wouldn’t be the first time he’d have dreamt of kissing Morpheus. But Morpheus’ hand on the back of his neck was a grounding presence, and the slide of their lips against each other felt leagues better than any dream he’d ever had.

Morpheus’ tongue brushed against his lower lip, and his breath came out in a shiver as his mouth opened to welcome Morpheus in.

By the time they parted, they were both out of breath. But they still clung to each other, hands at their faces and their foreheads pressed together.

“In the spirit of honesty,” Morpheus began, still catching his breath. “I admittedly worried that you would not feel the same way.”

“What?” Hob actually pulled back in surprise, but he held Morpheus’ hand. “Are you kidding me? I’d been dreaming about this for centuries.”

“You have?” Morpheus looked just as surprised.

“Yeah,” Hob tugged his ear as he smiled bashfully. “When I asked if you wanted to go to another pub in 1789, I was hoping maybe I could… I dunno, ask if you wanted to meet more than once a century. I tried again in 1889 but…” he shrugged.

Morpheus put his hand over Hob’s. “I am sorry to have wasted so much time. But now I promise that you will have me for as long as you wish.”

“I don’t think I’ll ever stop wishing it. And don’t worry about before, we have all the time in the world now, don’t we?”

Morpheus smiled. “Indeed we do.”

They went to bed together as they had many times before. But now Morpheus pulled Hob into his embrace, and asked if he would like to hear the entire story of the raven and the wolf, now that it had a proper ending.

And so it was that Hob lay on Morpheus’ chest with his arm around his slender form, falling asleep to the soft rumble of Morpheus’ voice as he told the story of the changed raven and the loyal wolf.

---

<- (Chapter 2)

(Chapter 4) ->

(Masterlist)

[turtlesreborntmnt]

News… And Then Even More News

So... a lot happened when I was gone.

First, the relaunch. I love that they're getting a lot of fresh faces on the book. I'm not familiar with a lot of their work (Besides Chiang, I love Paper Girls), but I heard a lot of good shit about Aaron, and I'm loving what I see Infront of my eyeballs with the artists. I love the direction that Sophie took, and I'm very excited for this new direction.

Although, there is one big thing I'm worried about. Jennika. I know that the Alpha one shot is gonna be about her, but it still worries me a bit. She is the fifth turtle, man. Like she should be up there you know? I pray she isn't written off the main book.

Also, personally I'm pretty indifferent on resetting to #1. It can be seen as a pretty desperate move, but also slapping a #1 on a book fucking works. Hopefully this gets more people talking about the book at least. Hopefully this lasts another 150 issues.

Next:

Fuck. Yes.

We knew that this was happening for a bit, but I still wanted to show off how coooool this is. Also, apparently it's on ongoing and not a mini series. Again, Fuck. Yeah. I really love street level TMNT stuff, and this seems to be the ultimate version of that. It's also written by Juni-Ba, who did some incredible work for the series already so I already know this is gonna be fire.

I got some hypotheses on who the hell Nightwatcher is. Obviously, the original is Raph, and it still might be. It also might be Jennika, since they are very clearly turtle shaped and with the seemingly lack of appearance in the main title. It also could be Metalhead? And like he got a new smaller body and turned into a vigilante for some reason. It could also be future Raph from the 2023 annual. The Nightwatchers' left arm doesn't match his right, maybe implying that it's completely robotic thus replacing his lack of arm? Idk. I'm excited none the less.

Next:

SANTOLOUCOSANTOLOUCOSANTOLOUCOSANTOLOUCOSANTOLOUCOSANTOLOUCOSANTOLOUCOSANTOLOUCO

Mateus Santolouco is back on art. That's it. That's all I need. I'm hype.

On top of that it's gonna be written by Erik Burnham, and the story seems super interesting too lore wise. Sorry I don't have much to say other than SANTOLOUCOSANTOLOUCOSANTOLOUCOSANTO-

Also some cool side characters getting more screen time.

Next:

Holy shit. OMG.

I need to fucking calm down, Jesus. Anyway. Tom and Sophie are returning with a new ongoing. Very very little is known about this but I assume it's gotta do with Hob and Mutant Island, along with the general Mutant issue now that the wall is broken. I can't wait man. I also assume the second half of Alpha is gonna directly tie into this ongoing. Also, Maligna? Or something. Fuck, maybe that's Linsey...

Poor bastard.

That's all the news for the main continuity, I'll briefly go over some other stuff. Saturday Morning Adventures is still going strong WITH TURTLES FOREVER 2 AND USAGI CROSSOVER????!!!!???!?!?!

Also anthology series. I bet that's gonna be really fun.

Cya.

[rainbowvamp]

A little snippet from that between time in the post-letters fic.

They're friends. Completely normal friends :)

-----

“Hey, where are you right now?” 

Dream looks away from the sky to see that Hob is leaning up on his elbows again, studying Dream like they are a miracle needing to be unraveled. It should unnerve them to be so studied. They are flattered. 

“I am here with you, Hob Gadling, just as I intend to be.”

Hob laughed. “No, I mean. Just now. You looked like you were thinking. Penny for your thoughts.”

“Do you think me worth so little?” Dream raises and eyebrow, but they are teasing. They can’t remember the last time they teased someone. 

“I think you’re worth more than every treasure on earth and all the stars in the sky. It’s just an expression.” Hob smiles easily, but there is a tension between his brows, like perhaps he is worried he’s said too much.

“I find you equally valuable.” Dream says, mostly to reassure their friend. The sentiment is no less true for it’s purpose. “And if you must know, I was contemplating the nature of our friendship. My sister came to see me not so long ago and asked after you.”

The nature of the Endless siblings and their influence on the universe had been a topic of conversation some months past, where Dream had finally confessed that Hob’s immortality had been their sister’s gift, and not their own. As with everything else, Hob had taken the idea that his sister was Death in stride.

“Yeah? What did you tell her?” Hob’s smile is fond and curious in a way that makes Dream wish to indulge him. 

“I told her the truth. You are well. We meet often.” Dream turns their gaze back to the stars. “You have no wish for death. I take joy in your company.”

For all that their meetings in Dreams take place with such regularity as to be difficult to define, Dream has not yet grown tired of the easy smile that any praise of Hob or their time spent together brings to the immortals lips.

In another life, in another scenario, they might have kissed the grin off the immortal’s face, just to watch the joy become desire. 

But Dream knows the dangers such things present, and so they do nothing.

“I’m always happy to be a bringer of joy. Life’s not worth much if you can’t do at least that.” Hob rests one hand behind his head, the motion stretching the muscles of his pectorals in a way that Dream would be happy to explore with their mouth, but again, they do nothing.  “Are there any constellations from this perspective? Anything I’ve never seen before?” 

“There are no beings who witness the night sky from this angle with the capacity to give star clusters names. However,” the sky moves again at Dream’s will and Dream lean’s close to Hob pushing his hand up with the tip of their fingers, guiding the immortal’s fingers light the sight of a gun, “cultures long past observed that star cluster,” Dream guides Hob’s hand, leaning closer than necessary as they traced Hob’s hand along the invisible outline of a constellation long past, “as a manifestation myself. When Stories and Dreams were worshipped above most other things. I admit, I’ve never seen the likeness.” 

[tryan-a-bex]

I couldn't leave Hob so sad, and well, it's Cardiff, so...

Suddenly Hob hears a strange melodic grating noise in his living room. That sounds… strangely familiar. He rolls over on his couch, his eyes going wide as he sees a big blue box materializing right there where his coffee table will be when it arrives. As soon as the TARDIS has arrived (because it’s the TARDIS, he’s watched enough Doctor Who to recognize it), a manic figure leaps out the door and grabs his hand.

“Quick! You have to come with me! The fate of the Earth depends on it!”

The hazards of living in Cardiff, Hob thinks, shaking his head mentally as he tries to get his feet under him before he’s over the threshold. 

“Wow!” he says, as the Doctor charges over to begin pressing buttons and pulling levers.

“I know! Bigger on the inside!” the Doctor shouts.

“But why me?” Hob asks. There must be some explanation for all this. At least, he hopes there is!

“Come with me, you’ll see in a moment!” The Doctor grabs his hand again as they arrive, pulling him from the TARDIS as fast as Hob can run.

They’re on top of the UNIT building, and UNIT is standing off with a violent looking group of aliens.

“When I say take me to your leaders, I don’t mean babies!” the head alien rants. “How can this one speak for you when it has only been alive for a few parsnecks? At that age, we haven’t begun to learn wisdom. No, if this is the best you can offer, we will take over and rule the Earth for you, until you learn to grow up as a species. No wonder your planet is such a mess, you are all toddlers playing in a sandbox! Not one of you is old enough to ferbertabate! No, you’ll be much better off with us in charge. Now look, put down your little toys before we have to hurt you. It’s for your own good.”

“Wait, wait!” the Doctor yells. “I have one for you!” Hob is dragged forward and thrust at the alien.

“Not you again, you may not speak for Earth, Gallifreyan. Oh.” The alien stops scowling at the Doctor and turns its frown on Hob. 

“You. Are. Adult.” It seems surprised and a bit annoyed.

“Um, yes?” Hob isn’t entirely sure what is going on, but it seems the alien is really hung up on age, and apparently, he is the only human who is old enough to be worth talking to?

“Why did they not bring you when I asked for their leader?” Oh, this is going to be a tough one to explain.

“Ah, yes, you see, humans organize things differently. I’m kind of, leading from behind.” Yeah, that sounds good. He hopes. The Doctor is nodding and smiling, at least. The alien doesn’t look persuaded though.

“Why would you do that? Your planet is a mess. Look around. Wars, pollution, suffering. We will help you.”

“No, no, that wouldn’t be great.” Hob shakes his head, desperately hoping he can make this sound good enough. “You see, humans don’t respond well to being told what to do. They have to work it out for themselves. Otherwise they get despondent, or become violent.”

“That is not a good situation. You should put them in time out until they learn to obey. It has worked for us and for thousands of planets we have taken into care. We will help you.” The alien seems insistent but is also showing signs of bending. Hob presses his advantage. 

“Trust me. I’m the adult here. I understand how it works better than you do, you who have just been here for the slightest moment.” The look on the alien’s face turns considering. 

“It is true. We have not been here long. You are sure you do not require our help?”

“I swear. It will be better in the long run if you let us work it out by ourselves.”

“Understood. We leave now!” The alien commands its cohort and they turn as one and return to the ship, taking off as soon as the door closes. 

“You did it!” The Doctor slaps Hob’s back in congratulations. “Now let’s get you home again!” He’s shuffled back into the TARDIS as UNIT stands down, and watches despondently as the Doctor works the controls. Back to his dreary new little flat and his boring, lonely new life. Save the world, go out for takeout at a new place that won’t be as good as the Chen’s. 

“Unless. Unless you’d like to stop somewhere on the way?” The Doctor is looking intently at him, having paused the operation of the TARDIS at the look on Hob’s face.

Hob looks up, his mind suddenly whirling with possibilities. But really, there is only one place he really truly wants to be, now that he has all of Space and Time at his (well, the Doctor’s) fingertips. 

“Do you know where my Stranger is?” The Doctor looks at him, then comes over and grabs his hand again. 

“Here! Put your hand in the memory gel and the TARDIS will see who you are talking about!”

Hob obediently sticks his hand in the weird feeling gel and thinks of his Stranger. Tall, dark hair contrasting with pale skin, the small smile and weary eyes from his last visit at the New Inn. 

The TARDIS makes a strange sound, lights flashing all over, and the Doctor starts to hop around the controls again.

“No! Oh, no, Hob! I’m sorry, the TARDIS is trying but it seems your Stranger is Outside of Time and Space at the moment.” Hob is disappointed but not too surprised. Of course his Stranger is not reachable, even by TARDIS.

“Hob,” says a deep voice behind him as the Doctor freezes, looking over Hob’s shoulder in awe.

“Stranger!” Hob exclaims, turning and stepping toward him before checking himself and halting an arm’s reach away. 

“Hob, why are you here? What have you to do with the Gallifreyan?” He turns toward the Doctor. “What are you doing with my Hob?” My Hob? Hob thinks hysterically. I mean, he’s been thinking of him as his Stranger, but does that translate into him being the Stranger’s Hob? Are they actually friends after all?

“Ah!” the Doctor is quick to leap in. “Yes! I needed him to solve an alien problem, which he did spectacularly, actually, and then he seemed lonely but when I offered to take him around a bit he just wanted to see you. But you know, the TARDIS–”

“Yes, the TARDIS cannot reach my realm,” the Stranger confirms. And then he reaches out his hand. “Come, Hob. I will take you to my realm, and show you around a bit.”

Hob reaches out, of course he does, sparing only a second to smile and nod his thanks to the Doctor. His Stranger is here? Acting possessive, and wanting to show him around his realm? He will take it! He will take anything his Stranger wants to give him! He takes his hand, and sand swirls around them.

on ao3

Hob hates changing lives.

He tells himself he likes it, a year or so in. He tells himself he enjoys the variety, the meeting new people, and seeing new sights. And he does. Just . . . not now. Now when he's still mourning his old life.

He sits on the couch—a new one, not the one that's formed to him over the last twenty years—and sighs as he stares at the few boxes he was able to bring with him. The small flat in Cardiff was fine, arguably lovely, in fact. He's been excited about it when he's first done the paperwork, and there's a distant part of himself that's still excited. But as he looks up at the unfamiliar walls and listens to the unfamiliar sounds of the street and city below, Hob can't help but feel trapped.

He can't go back. Not for a while. Not until he's forgotten in people's minds. He won't see the New Inn again or any of his friends from KCL or the Chens who knew his order by heart because he couldn't go more than two weeks without craving their food.

Robert Golding was gone to the world. Now he's just Rob Garroway—a nobody who lives in Cardiff who does . . . something. Hob hasn't actually gotten that far into figuring out what job he'll pick up this go-around. Maybe he'll try his hand at writing something other than historical essays for the university. Or maybe he'll buy a boat and become a fisherman. Lots of choices. All of them too overwhelming to even think about.

He collapses into the still-to-firm couch and tosses his arm over his eyes. The day is still young—its barely past one in the afternoon—and already he's exhausted. He can feel that familiar weight settling into his bones, holding him close to the earth. He doesn't even know any good take-out joints yet because Lord knows he won't have any energy to cook for the next week. Or two. Or more.

A problem for future him. For now, Hob turns into the back of the couch, face hidden from the sun and the foreign place he now calls home, closes his eyes, and sleeps.

[wizardofgoodfortune]

i have been lurking in your asks for this moment: for the spotify wrapped fic prompt, #10!!

i'm going to ignore the very obvious and very painful daniel/hob implications of this song because i want to finish the comics first before writing anything outside of the show's canon. so have this instead!!

--

Dream had been visiting Hob more frequently than he'd like to admit. It all started with Dream wanting to carve out a small place of solace in his life, and what place was more perfect than The New Inn? Built for him like an altar for an absent god.

Though these days, he'd been more present than ever. He wished he had the privilege to say he'd been drunk the first night it happened, or the next night, and the next. But Dream, Lord of Dreams and Ruler of Nightmares, always knew what was going on, and what desires he'd recklessly indulged in again and again.

Tonight was no different. By now, Hob was a veteran in making Dream feel more than welcome. It was all too easy to fall into Hob's arms and into his bed above The New Inn. Somewhere down the line, Dream had made himself vulnerable to Desire's machinations.

But he had somehow convinced himself that it was alright, as long as Hob wasn't vulnerable.

Some nights they talked afterwards, and Dream wasn't quite sure whether it amplified or quieted his regrets. This was one of those nights.

"Tell me about the Dreaming," Hob said, his head propped up on his arm as he looked down at Dream.

"What do you wish to know?"

"I don't know. Everything. You don't work alone, do you?"

"...No, I suppose I don't, anymore. I have Lucienne. And Matthew."

"Ah, Matthew, yeah, we've met. Why does he talk by the way? Nearly gave me a heart attack the first time he spoke to me."

"He was human, before. He died in his sleep and became a raven of the Dreaming."

"Oh," Hob said. He paused. Dream observed the shadows cast on his face by the moonlight. "So if I die in my sleep, I get to stay at your place? As a raven?"

Dream felt the corners of his mouth lift up. A silly notion. "You do not have to die. You will always be welcome in the Dreaming, Hob."

Hob smiled down at him, and Dream felt a warm fire in his chest. "Thank you, love. But what I meant is I never had the chance to visit your, y'know. Your place. Is it a castle?"

"Yes, I suppose you could call it a castle," Dream said.

Hob hummed, and tapped Dream's chest with his free hand. "A wild thing," he said after a few seconds.

"What is?" Dream asked.

"I was just some peasant when we first met," Hob said, his eyes lost in memory. "Thought you were some ignorant lord. In the back of my mind, I thought were you just making fun of me, asking to meet you after a hundred years. Never thought this," he gestured to their bodies, naked under the covers, "would ever happen. Y'know? A wild thing."

Dream hummed in agreement.

"Guess I'm lucky, huh?" Hob chuckled, his fingers still tapping on Dream's chest. "Hey. Would you bring me to your castle some day, show me around?"

"Perhaps," Dream replied.

"Tease," Hob chastised. Then he pressed a kiss on Dream's forehead, then on his nose, and finally on his lips. "I adore you. You know that? I love you, Dream."

Dream froze. He looked into Hob's eyes, saw the fondness in them, and knew that he meant it.

This was just supposed to be a brief respite, some semblance of comfort that he did not have in his day-to-day life. He thought it was the same for Hob, that Dream was just someone immortal to hold onto once in a while. But it wasn't. Not anymore.

I should not have come here, he thought, tearing his gaze away from Hob's. He did not have the heart to say it out loud.

Dream stood up from the bed, already clothed.

This will be the last time, he thought. It was what he thought every time. And maybe tonight it will finally come true. No, it should come true. Lest he destroy even Hob Gadling, like he has many times to his other lovers before. It always ended in tragedy, whether Desire was involved or not, and Dream didn't want that for him.

A hand shot up from the covers to grip his wrist.

"Stay. Stay, darling," Hob said, sitting up. "Won't you stay?"

Dream turned.

Hob's eyes shone, watery in the moonlight.

It should not be fair, Dream thought, for Desire to easily toy with me like this.

"I cannot stay any longer," Dream said.

"Why not?" Hob said, with all the petulance of a child. "Come back. Just for a while."

Dream resisted the urge to climb back in the covers with him. That was his sibling speaking.

"I apologize. I will make sure your dreams are pleasant tonight, and on every other night."

"Will you be coming back?" Hob asked. "You sound like you're never coming back."

Dream said nothing.

"I can wait. I will."

"I know," Dream said. He didn't add, "beloved."

"I'm not sorry," Hob said, gripping Dream's wrist even tighter. "But I won't say it again, if it means you'll stay."

Something cold and heavy sat in Dream's chest.

"So don't go," Hob said, "please."

Dream dissipated into thin air, but not quickly enough that he did not see a tear roll down Hob's cheek. He can still feel his grip on his wrist.

[ghostboyjules]

weeeeellllll hey folks! Finally back again - after ages of promising this - with Hob's playlist. I'm definitely not gonna be as wordy this time, mostly because I am Tired™, but hopefully these songs and their lyrics speak for themselves better than I could anyway. I'd like to dedicate this beast to these particular wonderful humans; @wordsinhaled, @wizardofgoodfortune, ily'all 🥺 y'all keep me creative <3 and to @landwriter for the amazing title inspo and just being super dope and having excellent Hob Gadling character takes in general.

This playlist is a lil more structured than Dream's was, so I don't recommend listening on shuffle, at least for the first time through, lol. I also have marked in my notes which songs relate to which like. Span of years, but tbh that could be kinda flexible, so use your heart ig asjhfvafbab Without further ado, below the cut will be my lyric selections and small note thingies. If you've read even this far, I thank you *mwah* (yes there's 30 songs I'm SORRY I can't be stopped 😭)

1389 –

Avi Kaplan – I’m Only Getting Started

[Verse 1]

Eyes clouded, blood on my face

No mercy coming my way

Yeah, I'm only getting started

Cracked knuckles, fist shaking

These rivers run, but I'm staying

Yeah, I'm only getting started

OKAY... thought this was kind of a cool one to open up with, plus the interesting thing about making this playlist is that I feel like I have a very linear sort of character progression to work off of, which is fun.. so this song speaks to me of that rough and tumble merc/bandit Hob of 1389... been through some shit, lost family,

Alice In Chains – Rooster

[Verse 2]

Walkin' tall machine gun man

They spit on me in my homeland

Gloria sent me pictures of my boy, mm-mm

Got my pills 'gainst mosquito death

My buddy's breathin' his dyin' breath

Oh God, please, won't you help me make it through? Mm-mm

[Chorus]

Here they come to snuff the Rooster, aw yeah

Yeah, here come the Rooster, yeah

You know he ain't gonna die

No, no, you know he ain't gonna die

this gives me very much merc or soldier Hob, kinda unhinged a lil bit cause he definitely should have died a few times there…but he didn’t.

The Mountain Goats – Up the Wolves

[Verse 1]

There's bound to be a ghost at the back of your closet

No matter where you live

There'll always be a few things, maybe several things

That you're going to find really difficult to forgive

There's gonna come a day when you feel better

You'll rise up free and easy on that day

And float from branch to branch

Lighter than the air

Just when that day is coming, who can say? Who can say?

makes me think about maybe after a long time at war or fighting as a merc or any plethora of things honestly, he’s like struggling with that.

Emigrate, Cardinal Copia – I’m Not Afraid

On the street that I remained

Some have made another hole

Could it be that I'm to blame?

When the ground has turned so cold

Can it be an audacing?

Can it be a guarded hole?

And what we say is just a game

The one we play 'til we get old

All, all the hands I have laid

All written along my face

I'm not afraid of anything

I just let it go

And now I take on everything

To get out from the hole

maybe avoiding thinking about things just so that he’s able to be the kind of man he wants to be rather than the kind the world is wanting to turn him into…but then he has to think abt them to come to terms with them (also no matter what I do,it will not recognize 'audacing' as a word but I googled it and everything so...lmao)

1489 -

Ryn Weaver – New Constellations

[Verse 2]

There's no walls and no ceilings as far as I know

Just the echoes of scars and the unbeaten road

Trip the gun on cautions that I've been sold

'Cause it's hard to believe that it's wrong to want more

Than the truest of blue and a love like a roar

I will run to wherever I want to go, oh

[Chorus 2]

Charting Neptune by the fire of the Sun

I'm looking for new constellations, new constellations

[Verse 3]

So keep callin' me crazy 'cause I never learned

You should stop loving fire because you got burned

Now it feels like I'm living some sick déjà vu

Like the answers were there when I stared into you

"What if there's more? What if there's more?" The more I look into this the more I want to cry about 1489 Hob and all the things he's seen.. I was on the Wiki page for ‘Spherical Earth’ and the years it was giving me... god he sure was just. there for that. the number of things we know to be just. absolute FACT, now that were kinda up in the air for the majority of his 600+ years??? are you kidding me? the maps the books the science the

Dawes – Living In The Future

[Verse 1]

I know all of my exits

I'm always planning my escape

It's the most aggressive symptom

Of this collective phantom pain

And the more that you ignore it

The more it makes you go insane

Just look around

[Chorus]

We're living in the future, so shine a little light

It may not make it any better, I'm just hoping that it might

I'm not talking about forever, how about just getting through the night?

We're living in the future, so shine a little light

ANXIETY… doesn’t wanna be caught being immortal…but also amazed and trying to see the brighter side of things, wanting to learn

Good Tiger – Salt of the Earth (Acoustic)

I tightened my grip

Around my bow

I'll try to save you all

Knuckles turning white

Blood runs cold

There's a boy with no face

I don't feel there's much separation

I'm an animal

Hope leaves when the waves come crashing

I've never been a religious man

But I'm slipping under drowning

In your eyes

I've never been a religious man

But I'm slipping under drowning

In your

More themes of being animalistic.. kinda nightmare-ish huh … this makes me think of maybe him having nightmares trying to help him understand how he really felt about all the killing he’s had to do, while also hungering so so deeply for more. More life, more knowledge, more people, more experiences. An animal wanting ..

1589 –

Hozier – Angel of Small Death and the Codeine Scene

[Verse 2]

Feeling more human and hooked on her flesh, I

Lay my heart down with the rest at her feet

Fresh from the fields, all fetor and fertile

It's bloody and raw, but I swear it is sweet

[Verse 3]

In leash-less confusion, I'll wander the concrete

Wonder if better now having survived

The jarring of judgement and reason's defeat the sweet

Heat of her breath in my mouth; I'm alive

I’m looking at this song as him falling in love with Eleanor, and I really like whenever they’re depicted as having this kind of.. definitely unconventional type of relationship for the time, and also maybe both being just a smidge unhinged, because Hob certainly is and I could absolutely see him being smitten with Eleanor because she’s maybe, kind of odd or something.. who’s to say..

Fair to Midland – A Seafarer’s Knot

[Verse 1]

Lucky are the leaves of the clover

She's digging for chemistry with the butcher's tools

Shifty are the eyes of the gambler

He's making his tricks his trade, and a job well done

[Pre-Chorus]

Through the motions, waving wishes

To your confidence and eloquence

[Chorus]

He's turning a-green from these envious glorious things

Applied ambitious faith that can keep us all safe

Invoking a blue that's meant for us too

What small amazing things we will turn to rain

Fair to Midland is one of my favorite bands of all time, so I was saving them for something special lol. A lot of the time Darrow’s lyrics don’t make.. a huuge amount of linear sense, but I feel like these are straightforward enough to take enough meaning. This, to me, feels like an examination of what Hob did to get to 1589, and perhaps some of the feelings behind that.

(bonus, made me think of the toast scene…ow)

[Bridge]

Gather 'round, hold your glasses up high

Drink to love while we wait for high tide

Keep it short, keep it brief, you have my word

Gather 'round while we wait for high tide

Everything Everything – Blast Doors

[Chorus]

Down in my beast heart, I build an empire

Whenever I'm blind, I open my wild eye

(repeated)

[Bridge]

I hear the death rattle of a time wasted

Time wasted

You know that I believe in it

You know that I believe in it

But I'm wasted

Back again with ‘animal hunger’ Hob. With this one I was really thinking about how… he really wanted to impress his stranger… only to be barely spoken to and then walked away from with no explanation. Like yes that hurts initially, but I’m thinking about all of the things he had to do to get there, I’m sure he didn’t like a lot of it.. and then to find out he pretty much wasted a lot of his time for an idea that had turned out to be wrong? oof

Ray LaMontagne – Such a Simple Thing

[Verse 2]

Take it if you want it

I'm so tired I just don't care

Can't you see how much you hurt me?

It's like I wasn't there

[Chorus]

Tell me what your heart wants

Such a simple thing

My heart is like paper

Yours is like a flame

I mean… -motions to lyrics- asfjvnfnb. Teehee abandonment issues lolololol

1689 –

40 Watt Sun – Stages

If I was only wise enough

To know everything sure and true about myself

You would not be here

What have I brought you to, my love, that you have followed me?

It is all my heart is worth

And more than I would ask of you

Y’all I’m so sorry that this is a 16 min song aldkfjgadj feel free to like, just look at the lyrics if you don’t have the brain space for the full thing, but I kind of forgot that it was so long until after I was so set on it 💀

Sleeping at Last – Jupiter

[Verse]

Wrote it down in the winter of 1610

Just a secret under lock and key until then

While collecting the stars, I connected the dots

I don't know who I am, but now I know who I'm not

This song always has and always will ruin me,, I just love the line “I don’t know who I am, but now I know who I’m not” honestly just everything about that song… make my messes matter, make this chaos count.. (also had to include because.. 1610 lol)

Gregory Alan Isakov – If I Go, I’m Goin

And I will go if you ask me to

I will stay if you dare

And if I go, I'm goin' shameless

Let my hunger take me there

This house, she's quite the talker

She creaks and moans, she keeps me up

And the photographs know I'm a liar

They just laugh as I burn her down

This song just has very Hob energy, like I feel like he would like it, as well, but also just OOOOOOFFFF this do be hurtin….

The Moody Blues – Melancholy Man

[Chorus]

I'm a melancholy man, that's what I am

All the world surrounds me and my feet are on the ground

I'm a very lonely man, doing what I can

All the world astounds me and I think I understand

That we're going to keep growing, wait and see

Another case of -motions to lyrics- tbh

1789 –

Sleeping at Last – Pluto

[Chorus]

Until one day I had enough

Of this exercise of trust

I leaned in and let it hurt

And let my body feel the dirt

When I break pattern, I break ground

I rebuild when I break down

I wake up more awake than I've ever been before

“I rebuild when I break down” this is put here specifically to signify his,, literal rebuilding of himself after the struggle of the previous century,..

The Deep Dark Woods – The Place I Left Behind

I'm a good ole ramblin' boy

Now that's just what I am

This fair land that you call yours

I do not give a damn

I've got the ramblin' fever down in my bones

And everywhere that I wanna go

The only place that I ever loved

Is a place I left behind

Discontent, I think, with where he’s at currently. Still missing and grieving his family, I imagine he probably spends these years pretty alone, and that could be why he seemingly turns his goddamn brain off -_-

Tunng – Fatally Human

Fatally human

We hover in the world

Fatal someone

We flounder in the dark

Take hold of another

Go mad in a moment

The soil and the wonder

Sway to the terror

There’s not really a lot I can say here, but. Yeah.

1889 –

The Oh Hellos – I Have Made Mistakes

I have made mistakes

I have made mistakes, I continue to make them

And the promises I've made

The promises I've made, I continue to break them

And all the doubts I've faced

All the doubts I've faced, I continue to face them

But nothing is a waste

Nothing is a waste, if you learn from it

This song sounds like how Hob looks when he makes that little jab at himself about making and learning from mistakes… couldn’t get that idea out of my head. Plus this song just really hits.

Greg Puciato – Through the Walls

Winter, I'm out of tune

Heating frozen stars

I'll keep spilling my guts out to you

Wherever you are

Dragging my anchor through you

I want you to know

Me before this night is through

Then you'll never go

Careful to not disappear

Offering dreams to the dawn

Nothing's impossible here

Still we can't go on

I didn’t want to make anything TOO outwardly Dreamling, but like… this song, omg…

Tubeway Army – Are ‘Friends’ Electric?

[Chorus 1]

So now I'm alone

Now I can think for myself

About little deals and S.U's

And things that I just don't understand

Like a white lie at night

Or a sly touch at times

I don't think it meant anything to you

[Verse 3]

So I open the door

It's the 'friend' that I'd left in the hallway

"Please sit down."

A candlelit shadow on a wall near the bed

Made that last comment and then there’s this song WHOOPS sdkfgadfbaasfjghfb

1989 –

Marina – To Be Human

[Chorus]

All the people living in, living in the world today

We're united by our love, we're united by our pain (Ooh)

All the things that I've done and I've seen

Still, I don't know, don't know what it means

All of the little name drops and the meanings and.. it just gave me very much the century flying by so violently but also colorfully and SO much happening..

Orville Peck – Dead of Night

[Verse 3]

Six summers down, another dreamless night

You're not by my side

Scratch on the moon like a familiar smile

Stained on my mind

Some other town, someone else's life

Dead in the night

In the night

Ofc I had to add Orville… this song and it’s placement… I wanted it to feel purposeful, and I hope it does. Character and theme-wise, and also like irl things happening in those decades..

Danny Schmidt – This Too Shall Pass

[Verse 3]

We think too big, we think our self is one whole thing

And we claim that this collection has a name and is a being

But deep inside when every cell divides

Well, it sets upon the rule that states self-interest is divine

[Verse 4]

And cancer too lives by this golden rule:

That you must do unto the others as the others unto you

All for the best, because it's all that life accepts

And so we kill it like a buffalo: with awe and with respect

This song also gives me overall Hob vibes, musically and lyrically, but.. I just think about the kind of friends he made and the things he tried to do in this century. Helping the people he could and loving those he couldn’t help. The knowledge that yes, this too shall pass…

1990’s-ish – Went on a lil’bit of a bender

Alice in Chains – Would?

[Verse 2]

Drifting body, its sole desertion

Flying, not yet quite the notion

[Chorus]

Into the flood again

Same old trip it was back then

So I made a big mistake

Try to see it once my way

I feel like after 1989.. and the overwhelming barrage of a century that was, I feel like he has some, emotions to sort through. N and I talked a lot about grunge phase 90’s Hob and like yes very much influential here, but I think I’d associate him with Alice in Chains, regardless. Stone Temple Pilots too, I think.. there’s more lmao

Def Leppard – Animal

[Verse 1]

A wild ride, over stony ground

Such a lust for life, the circus comes to town

We are the hungry ones, on a lightning raid

Just like a river runs, like a fire needs flame

Oh, I burn for you

[Chorus]

I got to feel it in my blood, whoa, oh

I need your touch don't need your love, whoa, oh

And I want, and I need, and I lust, animal

And I want, and I need, and I lust, animal

This man fucks. Obvi

2022 –

The National – I Am Easy To Find

[Verse 1]

How long have we been here?

Am I ever coming down?

I need to find some lower thinking, if I'm going to stick around

I'm not going anywhere

Who do I think I'm kidding?

I'm still standing in the same place where you left me standing

[Chorus]

I am easy to find

The National will always be my favorite sad Dad band, I cherish them. I feel like Hob would also like them, but this song of course had to be added because. “I am easy to find.” …. ach

The Narcissist Cookbook – Joy! Joy! JoooOOY!

[Verse 2]

Tonight let's turn the shower on

Full blast and hot

Lie down in the bath like it's a casket or a cot

We'll try to sleep

But we won't sleep

I thought writing it down might make me wanna stop

But I want more and more

And more of this

Til there's no room in me

There’s not a lot I can say about this one either, just.

Broken Bells – Perfect World

[Verse 1]

Oh, London moon, help me stumble home

Let me lose myself along the way

I've got nothing left, it's kind of wonderful

'Cause there's nothing they can take away... away

[Bridge]

But it's another way to win a useless fight

You've been lying so long don't know when you're faking

See the water on the rise

Just another day into a useless night

I've been pushing so hard now my hands are shaking

See the water on the rise

This song is beautiful. I think I had a religious experience when I heard it for the first time a few years ago,,, it’s also just very much a Hob song to me. Not overly optimistic, but still down for life.. the struggles…

Avi Kaplan – Song For The Thankful

[Verse 3]

Goodbye evening, hello to the night

I'm not seein' the wrong from the right

Walkin' blindly on a path without an end

Then the morning comes and leads me out again

I thought this would be the perfect song to end on.. I hope I’m right.

[gabessquishytum]

This is a bit of a domestic fluff thing for the Hoblings AU.

Determination (Dante)

Deception (Dimitri)

Delight (Delilah)

Destruction (Daphne) 

Hope (Roberta)

Dream heir/Drowsy (Dorian)

Danger (Damien) 

I made this list so we can keep everything straight (as straight as we can lol)

The kids split their time evenly among the waking and the dreaming much like regular mortals do except they get special privileges from being the king’s kids. It’s not spilt custody tho cause Hob can enter the dreaming and Dream can be in the waking.

When they are older the kids get the choice to either stay primarily on earth or create realms of their own. (Even Dorian will get this choice) 

Basically when a child turns 18 they will be given a year to live primarily on earth and then at the end of this year they will decide. 

Daphne decided to stay on earth, she has a girlfriend and a job constructing and then deconstructing sets for a local theater. She is a huge muscular woman who the rest of crew are a little afraid of, (“I once saw her carrying around a ton of metal beams like it was nothing!”) but she really is a sweetheart. Of course they don’t find this out until her Papa comes to visit.

She’s currently building a set for this theater’s production of Chicago and she’s in charge of the metal frame work, mostly because she’s the only one that can do it, when from stage left enters a jovial professor looking type. 

“Daffy? Daffy Duck?” 

Daphne laughs, only one person calls her that, she turns around and hugs her Papa who is slightly lifted off the ground.

“Papa, what are you doing here? I’m working.”

“What? Is work more important than dear old dad?” He teases.

“No, no, what’s up,” she brings him to the edge of the stage and sit down, their feet dangling off the edge.

“Well your sister made you cookies and wanted me to drop them off for her. She hopes you like em,” he emphasizes the word Hope and they giggle like it’s some sort of inside joke. 

“I’m sure I will, something else you gotta tell me or is it just the cookies?”

Hob rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, “I’m hosting a family dinner at the house, tonight.”

“Family dinner? That’s not for another two months!” 

“Yeah, yeah I know, but your father and I have a little announcement to make”

She rolled her eyes.

“Please tell me you did not get him pregnant again.” 

He goes beat red and gets up.

“Ah no no no, I told ya Dorian’s the last one, six at the inn, bring that girlfriend of yours if you like.” 

Hob exits perused by a bear. (Who he will later have to politely decline the offer for a date from)

Her crew start opening up to her after that.

Dream was responsible for telling Dimitri who spent most his time in The Threshold much to Dream’s chagrin and Delilah who was apprenticing under Delirium. Roberta and Dorian still lived with Hob and Dream so they had no choice in the matter. There was just one more kid who needed informing, and it was Hob’s job.

He got up on the roof of the New Inn. Dante was always the hardest to get in contact with since his endless abilities had him traveling the word. Hob had to the take a bit of a magical or madman approach depending on how you look at it. 

“Dante? Dante can you hear me? I’m calling out to you like Dream told me too, Dante? I need ya to come to the inn from where ever you are. You’re not missing a family dinner on my watch.” Nothing, absolute silence. 

“Well shit, maybe that what’s the paper’s for,” Hob pulls out a crumpled bit a paper that Dante gave him during the last family dinner incase he needed to contact him, Hob looked at the little scrap and sighed.

“I’m not saying this, it’s stupid. You should just come here cause I’m your father and I say so,” more silence.

“Fiiiiiine” he takes a deep breathe in. “Dante I summon thee.” And with a little more reluctance, “I’m determined to speak with you,” 

The winds shifted and suddenly his eldest was before him.

“It’s a stupid pun, Dante,”

“It took me a long time to come up with that,” he retorted.

“Doesn’t mean it’s not stupid, where’d I snatch you from?”

“India,” 

“Good boy, lot of fun India, course I haven’t been in a couple of centuries and-“

Dante puts a hand in front of Hob’s face to stop one of his legendary rambles. 

“You know I’m always happy to see you but why did you summon me, pops?” 

Hob claps him on the back. 

“To invite you to family dinner of course,”

“But family dinner is not for another two months!” 

Hobs laughs. 

“Oh, you and your sister, two peas you are.”

“I gotta lotta sisters, Pops. When’s dinner?”

Hob giggles to himself as he opens the door on the roof. 

“Everyone’s downstairs and you’re the last to arrive so…now!” 

Dante jumps back almost hitting a chimney.

“Jesus Pops! Give a man some warning! You know I don’t like impromptu socialization!” 

“Get used to it sunny boy!” Hob cackles as he gently pushes Dante down the stairs. 

Everyone was gather around a table, all six kids and Daphne’s girlfriend. the only one missing was Dream.

Hob figured he was in the kitchen preparing for the big announcement. 

“Dream? Babygirl?” 

“Hob Gadling, do not call me that when others are present,”

Hob hugs him from behind. 

“They can’t hear me. And besides what if I want them to know you’re my precious baby girl?”

Hob kisses him on the neck.

“Whose is that woman with the curly hair? She’s not one of our children is she? I feel like I would’ve have remembered that.” Dream muses, ignore Hob who is still kissing at his neck.

“That’s Melanie, Daphne’s girlfriend. I invited her, so play nice papa bear.” 

“I merely wish to look out for my daughters best interest.”

“I know baby, speaking of, you ready?” 

“I suppose,”

Like a king and queen entering a royal ball The Gadlings make their way to the dinning room. 

“Children,” dream said in his big godly voice. 

Everyone whipped their heads up from their conversations and looked at Dream expectantly.

“Hello everyone! So glad you could make it! Hi Melanie!” Hob said as Melaine shrunk a little in her seat while Daphne gave her Papa a death glare.

“You maybe wondering why’ve we’ve called a surprise family dinner, well… your father and I have an announcement! Dream, if you will?”

Dream gave a small smirk, “Your Papa knocked me up,” then he sat down putting a hand on his not even there baby bump.

There was an uproar!

“Dream I thought we agreed you wouldn’t say it like that!”

“I thought you said Dorian was the last one!”

“Dad’s pregnant?” 

“Papa you swore it wasn’t another baby announcement!”

“Hob Gadling master of sex, shit at using protection,”

“Dimitri!” 

“Congratulations… Mr. Gadlings,” that one was Melanie.

“Just couldn’t keep it in your pants, could you pops?”

“Enough children, I asked for a seventh baby, to carry on the tradition of the endless siblings…”

Then all of the siblings telepathically communicated with each other in a way only siblings can and then all at the same time shouted, “NOT IT” 

(Yes I’m officially dubbing it the Hoblings AU)

-🦎 anon

Hoblings!!!! I love this. Just imagine the scene at Christmas:

Dimitri: a couple of us have clubbed together to get your gift this year pops. Don't use 'em all at once!

Hob: *unwraps the biggest box of condoms you've ever seen in your entire life*

*screeching and cackling from assembled Hoblings*

Dream, who was definitely in on the plan in the first place: behave yourselves children, how could you be so immature 🤭

I wonder what the next little Hobling will turn out to be. It would be interesting if they turn out to be entirely "normal" and human. But that might be a little bit sad considering all their siblings have their functions. Discovery of the Endless, maybe? Who knows. They will be very, very loved though. And with Dream pregnant all over again and Hob having both the time and wherewithal to enjoy it, they're definitely going to be using those condoms <3

[secondjulia]

I wish I could 100% believe that this was a troll, but sadly knowing peoples actual opinions, it's probably genuine. People really think like this, and it's so fucking demoralizing. Like anything that doesn't fit your specific preferences is actually BAD and somehow barging on on someone else's safe space. I mean, wtf? Are we coming into the Dreamling servers kicking everybody's favorite puppies? No, we're literally just existing with a different view, which is not even remotely antagonistic to anyone else's interpretation.

Nuala is fascinating & her dynamic with Dream — brief though it may be — is HUGELY consequential to the storyline. Though she appears on the page only a few times, like most of Gaiman's characters, even the minor ones, she is richly portrayed with a compelling backstory, perspective, and important interactions with other more overtly consequential characters, like Cluracan & Titania.

And yeah, there's potentially some... messed up stuff about a Nuala/Dream pairing, given the context, but that also makes it so interesting to explore! (And, I mean, is this person just... like ignoring the issues with any pairing involving Hob?) Not every ship is going to be everyone's cup of tea and that's fine, but holy HELL, you do not have to come after everybody else's tea!

I mean, I am obviously a totally Dreamling shipper. And a Sandflower shipper. And whatever the name should be for the absolutely delightful poly grouping that is these three souls all finding each other (Dreamling Flower??)

(I think Nuala is the most stable & sensible of the three and could certainly a lovely influence on both of them. Like, imagine Hob wandering the Dreaming looking for his Stranger, not even knowing who he is yet, just yearning and yearning and yearning and instinctively his steps take him through the wilds of sleep every night, looking for that beautiful nameless face. And Nuala explores the Dreaming gingerly — this is her home now and if she wants to contribute, she has to learn its ways! And they meet again and again in some forsaken swamp or dark forest, sometimes saving each other from nightmares, both bold but shy with their own secrets (maybe subconsciously cautious in speaking too loudly of their desires in this realm) but eventually trusting each other to share just enough... And then one day, Dream comes home, and they're just like cuddling in the Library — Lucienne's probably there too — hell, Merv too, maybe, & Matthew, I mean, why not, boss man's too busy with his responsibilities, what's wrong with having some company? And Dream's a bit shocked but also like.... ok, well, at least I don't have to worry about explaining everything to Hob now. That' might've been hard...[ and that's when he realizes that's not the only thing that's hard—)

UM right, anyway... the point is none of this is anti-Dreamling!

I will post this once.

This is the 5th ask of this kind only this week. I deleted all the hurtful words, hoping they would stop. They didn't. So now I am forced to write this.

Don't be that person.

This is very hurtful to me as a creator who loves one character so deeply, I dedicate hours of my life every day to her.

This is very disrespectful to the community Neil Gaiman has built, and it goes against every principle in his body.

Lastly, Sandflower is not a cishet ship. I have said and shared that multiple times.

I am really starting to feel like I'm not wanted... and I don't know what to do anymore. I simply exist in my corner. Don't treat me like that because I don't like something you do.

I am sorry for the sudden post, but I love what I do, and this type of asks really hurts me.

Still Love,

Li 🪷

[secretswiftymarvelfan]

Snowed In - Steve Rogers x Reader

A/N: This is for @wiypt-writes​​​ 25 days of Chris-mas! Day 15! dividers made by @firefly-graphics​​

Summary: Getting snowed in with your ex can only go very badly or very very well...

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings: Angst, Mention of Break up, Language! SMUT 18+ MINORS DNI!

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The universe worked in mysterious ways. Ways that even the greatest minds couldn’t even begin to comprehend. So when it just happened to work out that the only people available for the mission in the snowy depths of Russia was you and your ex-boyfriend, there was nothing you could really do except go.

You couldn’t really blame the rest of the team though. They were either injured or busy with other missions. It was just the luck of the draw. At least the breakup wasn’t fresh and not a bad one.

“I hate snow” you grumble as you walk, correction, stumble through the snow towards the cabin that would be your safe house.

“We’re not too far out now” Steve says glancing over his shoulder at you.

You sigh watching as he easily walks through the snow unlike you. Eventually the cabin came into view and the snow became thinner and easier to walk in. Walking onto the porch you kicked the snow off your boots as Steve unlocked the door and stepped inside.

“I’ll get a fire going, why don’t you go see what the food situation is?” Steve suggests nodding towards the kitchen.

“Sure, no problem” you say moving past him towards the small kitchen.

You started riffling through the cupboards to see what you could find. There wasn’t much, just basic rations and a few snacks. You found an old kettle in one of the cabinets along with some tea bags and coffee granules. You grabbed the kettle and turned on the tap letting it splutter and run for a minute before filling up the kettle and placing it on the hob. Finding some matches in the drawers you lit the hob and left the water to boil.

“Hey are there any matches in here?” Steve asked walking in.

“Yeah, here you go” you say tossing him the box.

“Thanks” he says as he catches it.

“I’m making some coffee do you want some?” You ask as he goes to turn away.

“Uh yeah sure thanks” he nods before turning back towards the fireplace.

Once you had made the coffees you walked back into the living room part of the cabin finding Steve crouched by the fire adding a couple more logs.

“Thank you” he says as you pass him his coffee.

“No problem, there’s not much for food, just basic rations” you say moving to sit on the couch.

“Well we’ll only be here overnight so that should be fine” Steve sighs moving to sit on the floor by the fire.

“Yeah it’s not a bad safehouse, I’ve seen worse” you comment glancing around.

“Bit small, there’s only one bedroom so you can take that, I’ll take the couch” Steve says keeping his eyes on the fire.

“No way, I’ll take the couch you’re far too big to sleep on this tiny thing” you say shaking your head.

“It’s fine honestly” Steve says glancing over at you momentarily.

“Not it’s not, I mean I guess we could share the bed” you suggest looking down at your mug.

“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable” Steve says shaking his head.

“You won’t, plus it’s not like we haven’t before” you say trailing off at the end.

Silence falls in the room as you and Steve glance at each other before quickly adverting your gazes. The silence only disturbed by the sound of the wind picking up outside. Both of you glancing to the window to see snowflakes blustering past.

“Looks like we got here just in time” you comment changing the subject.

“Yeah wouldn’t want to be walking out in that” Steve agrees looking back over to the fire.

“Yeah” you agree quietly.

Silence once again falls between the two of you and you realise that this was the first time that you had been together alone since the break up. Unable to take the silence any longer you downed the rest of the coffee ignoring the burning sensation. Standing up from the couch you put your mug in the sink.

“I’m gonna go shower” you say not waiting for Steve’s response before making your way into the bathroom.

Despite your protests Steve wouldn’t budge on his stance that he’d sleep on the couch. So when you woke up the next morning you were silent as you crept through to the kitchen to make him a coffee.

You weren’t sure what time it was but you guessed it was early since the cabin was still dark. When you heard Steve stir you carried his mug over to him.

“Morning” you greet passing him his coffee.

“Oh thanks” he mutters wiping his eyes as he sat up taking the coffee.

“Sleep well?” He asks as you move to the dying fire to add a couple more logs.

“Yeah, thanks for letting me having the bed, what about you?” You ask glancing over your shoulder at him.

“Fine” he yawns but you could tell he was lying.

“What time is it?” He asks glancing around.

“Dunno, early since it seems like the sun is only just rising” you comment nodding to the window.

Steve frowns reaching out to the side table where his watch was “its 10am” he says.

“Can’t be, it’s too dark out, are you sure you’ve got it set to the correct time zone?” You ask furrowing your brows in confusion.

“Yeah it’s definitely 10am” Steve confirms.

Confused you walk over to window and push the curtains open, cursing when you realised what the problem was.

“I’ve worked out why it’s so dark” you say moving towards the door.

“Why?” Steve asks.

You answer by opening the door to reveal the snow piled up to almost the top of the doorway.

“Oh, that’s not good” he says standing up from the couch and walking over.

“There’s no way we’re gonna make the rendezvous point” you say trying to look out over the top of the snow.

“Hopefully when we don’t make it the team will retrace our movements and come here” Steve sighs pursing his lips in thought.

“That could take all day, maybe all night too” you sigh walking away from the door.

“I guess we better get comfortable then” Steve sighs shutting the door.

You scoff shaking your head as you sat down on the couch.

“There isn’t much else we can do” Steve points out frowning at you.

“I know, I know, I just-“ you sigh shaking your head when you couldn’t finish your sentence.

“Didn’t think you’d be trapped here with me for so long” Steve finishes with a sigh.

“Sorry” you apologise dropping your head unable to look at him.

“No it’s fine, I get it, it’s awkward and not easy” Steve sighs sitting down next to him.

“I don’t want it to be awkward, I miss being able to have fun with you” you admit glancing over at him.

A small smile appears on his lips “I miss it too” he says.

“Lets not let it be awkward then, lets I dunno find some playing cards or something and have fun like we used to” you suggest gesturing around the cabin.

“Yeah sure” Steve smiles and you realise that it was the first proper smile you’d seen in a while.

You instantly smile back not expecting your heart to flutter as you looked back at him. Clearing your throat you stand back up from the couch.

“Breakfast?” You suggest.

“Sure what’s the options?” Steve asks.

“Rations or rations?” You say with a small laugh.

“Rations it is” he chuckles and once again you realise how much you missed that sound.

Once you’d eaten you and Steve searched the cabin for something to entertain you. Thankfully finding not only a set of playing cards but also a couple board games. So for the rest of the day you and Steve sat in front of the fire playing games. It almost felt like old times again, the two of you laughing and joking around.

As you played a game of go fish you noticed Steve trying to subtly stretch out his back.

“Your back is sore from the couch isn’t it?” You say knowingly.

“No it’s fine, got any 5’s?” Steve says waving it off and continuing the game.

“Steve, c’mon you’re a terrible liar” you say putting your cards down and standing up.

“Y/N seriously its fine” Steve argues but his protests die out when you move to stand behind him and start massaging his shoulders.

When you put your hands on his shoulders initially he did flinch but he soon relaxed into it. Even going as far as dropping his head so you could do the job better. You only stopped when his hand moved to rest over yours. Your breath caught in your throat because he’d only done that while you were together. He seemed to quickly realise too as his hand fell from yours and he gave you a small smile as he glanced over his shoulder.

“Thank you, much better now” he says.

“Yeah, okay” you say clearing your throat as you stepped away and moved back to you spot.

“Um go fish” you mutter as you pick up your cards.

“Huh?” Steve asks confused.

“You asked for 5’s I haven’t got any so go fish” you explain quietly avoiding his gaze.

“Oh yeah right” he says quickly before picking a card up from the pile.

The awkward air between you once again falls as you continue playing the game. Only asking each other for cards, nothing else.

As the sun set you both decided to get some sleep since it didn’t seem like the team were gonna get you soon. This time you managed to convince Steve to sleep in the bed with you. Leading to the two of you lying wide awake staring up at the ceiling.

The silence was deafening but you couldn’t think of what to say. Nor could you work out what you wanted to say. It felt like there should be something to say but you didn’t know what. Sleep wasn’t an option either, your brain running far too fast to sleep.

Steve however did break the silence with a question you too were asking yourself but one that also sent you reeling.

“Why didn’t we work out?” He asks quietly.

“I- I don’t know” you admit quietly not daring to look over at him.

“I can remember when we broke up, I- I was so blindsided, I didn’t see it coming, I didn’t know you were unhappy” Steve sighs glancing over at you.

“I wasn’t unhappy” you say shaking your head “it just didn’t seem to be working and I didn’t want to end up hating you”

“I’d never hate you” Steve says making you look over at him.

“I know…” you sigh sadly.

“I miss you” he admits quietly.

“I miss you too so, so much” you confess unable to take your eyes off him.

“I never stopped loving you” Steve says rolling onto his side to face you.

You take a deep, shuddering breath as tears collect in your eyes “I never stopped loving you” you whisper.

Even in the low light you could see Steve’s eyes searching your face, stopping momentarily on your lips before returning to your eyes. You held your breath as his hand moved to cup your cheek, wiping away the stray tears that fell. You had to close your eyes as you try to get yourself under control. Freezing for a moment when your felt Steve’s lips ghost over yours, and when you didn’t pull away they found yours again, this time with much more confidence.

You sighed into this kiss, your arms moving around his shoulders as he moved you onto your back, caging you in between his arms. The kiss became more feverish and passionate as you began to make up for lost time. Steve’s hand ran up and down your side before settling on your hip gripping it tightly as if he was scared you would disappear. In turn you gripped the cotton top he worse tightly.

Steve’s lips travelled from yours, down to your jawline and down your neck. Hitting all the spots that sent you wild as if there had been no time apart. In-between kisses he whispers sweet words in your about how much he missed and loved you.

“Stevie-“ you gasp arching your back as he kisses the spot just below your ear.

“What is it doll?” He asks barely above a whisper, his lips ghosting over the shell of your ear.

“I need you” you sigh tugging at his top.

“Are you sure?” Steve asks pulling away enough to look you in the eye.

“Yes, I missed you Stevie, all of you” you say caressing his cheek.

His hand finds yours taking your hand and moving it so he could kiss your hand.

“You have me doll, forever” Steve says before bending down to kiss you passionately.

No longer holding back both your hands move to remove your clothing as quickly as possible. As soon as Steve’s boxers were pushed off your hands found his large member, fingers wrapping around it giving him a few pumps making him hiss.

“Fuck doll” he groans before taking your hand and pinning it to the bed “I’m not gonna last long if you keep that up”

“Don’t wait then” you tell him with a playful smirk.

“Don’t plan on it doll” Steve smirks before placing a bruising kiss to your lips.

You wrap your arms around his shoulders, fingers moving up to cascade through his hair. You gasp when you feel him press up against you, pressing your forehead against his.

“Are you ready? I can wait if you’re-“ Steve asks you pausing.

“Steve, I love you, but I swear to god if you don’t hurry up I’ll finish the job myself” you warn him making a lopsided grin grow on his face.

“Don’t threaten me with the good times” Steve smirks kissing you deeply.

You both moan into the kiss as he slowly presses up into you. He pulls away and rests his forehead against yours, the both of you breathing deeply as you got use to him.

“I missed you, I missed you so, so much” Steve pants shaking his head as he presses kisses against your lips and jaw line.

“I missed you too” you gasp as you roll your hips up towards his.

He groaned as you rolled your hips, pressing a harsh kiss to your lips as he began to thrust into you. You hooked your leg around his waist to keep him there, not that he would leave now. Silence fell in the room apart from the sounds of Steve’s hips meeting yours, the confessions of love and the squeaky bed frame.

“Stevie I’m close- don’t stop” you moan gripping onto his shoulders tightly.

“I’ve got you doll” Steve grits out, his hand moving between your bodies easily finding your clit.

You came with a moan so loud it could cause an avalanche. Your walls clenching down around him leaving Steve groaning. He was able to thrust a couple more times before finding his release. He collapsed down onto you, holding himself up enough so he didn’t crush you.

“That was-“ you breath out.

“Amazing” Steve finished brushing some hair out of your face.

“Why did we stop doing that?” You smirk making him laugh.

“I dunno but let’s not stop ever again” Steve says smiling warmly down at you.

“Good because I don’t wanna let you go again” you smile running your fingers over his shoulders and into his hair.

“I love you” Steve smiled leaning down to kiss you gently.

“I love you too” you sigh smiling back up at him.

Steve eventually gently pulled out of you but he didn’t stray too far. Gently pulling you into his side, kissing the top of your head. Everything falling back into place like nothing ever happened. It was never the wrong person, just the wrong time.  

Day 12: Jake Jensen / Day 16: Colin Shea

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