#i hope you love it!

[valeriianz]

Smutty fic idea prompts - 36 is just perfect for Dreamling please?

36: A rolls sleeves up/takes shirt off, revealing body hair to B. B has no idea how to act normal around A anymore.

Hob dresses up as Sexy Santa for a staff party and Dream absolutely loses his cool <3

-----------

These days, Dream finds himself as the newest addition to Johanna Constantine’s friend group. It’s quite nice of her, if not a little presumptuous, to drag him along to nearly every social outing and local music show in order to introduce him to as many people in her network as possible. The only reason they are still friends, Dream and Jo, is the small mercy of her not putting up a fuss when his social battery has been drained and he awkwardly dips out.

The best thing to come out of these adventures, at least, is meeting Hob Gadling.

Hob and Jo go way back, or so she’d announced the first time he and Dream had met. At a bar where the lights were low but Hob’s natural charisma and warm smile had radiated through anyway. They got along immediately, exchanging intellectual conversations where Hob had surprising takes and kept Dream’s interest; kept the dialogue fresh and spontaneous. Dream didn’t even need to contribute much while sharing a space with Hob, he could simply sip on his gin something-or-other and listen as Hob went on passionate rants about revolutions or human invention over the past centuries– each time they met up he’d go down a 100 years. Or complaining about how washed up Shakespeare was (an argument Dream allowed himself to fall into and they’d talked about all night, much to Johanna’s chagrin and massive eye roll, muttering a very clear “nerds” under her breath).

Chemistry aside, Dream also couldn’t deny how… effortlessly attractive Hob was.

Deep brown eyes that seemed to sparkle with barely contained mischief, chocolate dark hair with brush strokes of greys that unfairly complimented his face, and a seemingly permanent five O’clock shadow that Dream never imagined would leave him staring and daydreaming… alas, he’d discovered quite a few new things about himself around Hob.

Like how he’d imagined on more than one occasion, how easily he’d be able to lift Dream, how those broad shoulders and chest, thick biceps that even a cable knit sweater couldn’t hide– might manhandle his own body, lifting and bending him into submission. Dream ached with it; the possibilities. Was dying to kiss Hob’s plush mouth, his gaze fell to it enough, or feel the stubble of Hob’s jaw under his own palm, under his lips, along the inside of Dream’s thighs.

Hob was everything Dream was not; roguish, masculine, and unbearably kind. It was no wonder Dream had developed a crush from their very first meeting.

And maybe Hob was interested too, if you squinted. He always offered Dream a ride home, set his hand on the small of his back, his shoulder, and never seemed to stop smiling in his presence. Dream was never very good at picking up cues though– his prior relationships had been him making the first move, striking immediately at what he wanted, courting in the most by-the-book manner, before he was ultimately either rejected or caught up in a love affair that burned out before the year was up.

He didn’t want to do that with Hob. Dream held back, kept his desires at bay… because he truly enjoyed Hob’s company. It would be devastating if Hob rejected him, or worse, fell into a relationship and then realised Dream was… too much, too fast, too methodical. Dream wasn’t sure he could handle not having Hob in his life now that he’d met him. He was determined to keep him around, even if it meant remaining friends. Dream could work with that, could suffer quietly and go home after a long night of drinking or dancing and being subjected to Hob’s ever-present smile, his unwavering gaze, the warmth his body radiated, even feet apart. Could hold onto those images and sensations and close his eyes, take himself in hand, and work himself to climax in the safe darkness of his own bedroom, clenching his teeth and imagining how it might feel if it were Hob’s hands on him instead.

All of Dream’s self restraint comes crashing down about a week before Christmas, at the staff holiday party Johanna had invited him along to.

Because Hob is sitting on a large red velvet chair at the back of the venue, surrounded by cotton snow and boxed presents, wearing absolutely nothing but a Santa hat, explicitly short red and white trousers, and black boots.

It’s a mockery of what you’d see at perhaps a mall: Santa waiting to greet children and ask what they want for Christmas while his elves putter around and keep order. This is…

Obscene, is what Dream’s brain provides before it completely resets and replaces the word with animal noises.

He’d overheard Hob and Johanna talking about this, how they had a “sexy Santa” every year (because Jo’s office was mostly comprised of women who voted on it every year, vastly sweeping the competition to the point of tradition). And to save on money this year, decided to find a Santa who would do it for free, hence Jo asking Hob to do her a solid.

Dream felt heat rush through his entire body, unable to look away as Jo, Matthew, and him walked out of the foyer and into the thick of the party. Dream heard Johanna speaking, but couldn't decipher her words, his brain wiped clean by the reveal of Hob’s body, something Dream had only imagined in the safety of his own head, and kicked himself over the exclusion of hair.

So much body hair. Thick, dark hairs covered Hob’s chest like a pelt, rolling down his abs and scattered out around his soft belly. It was enough to make Dream’s mouth water, a ringing sound began in his ears, making him dizzy as he forced one foot in front of the other.

Dream had only met Hob a couple months ago, while the weather had just turned cold and they’d both only seen one another buttoned and bundled up in high necklines and long sleeves. To see Hob nearly completely nude was a shock to Dream’s system. And holy shit, Dream wanted. He had to know how those thick hairs felt between his fingers, digging them in while he sat on Hob’s lap, grinding his hips down while his own naked chest slid along Hob’s. What sounds Hob would make while Dream petted and pulled and rubbed his cock along the swell of Hob’s furred stomach.

And then Hob spotted them coming in, his smile dazzling as he stood up and waved.

Giving Dream a fantastic view of his legs, which were just as thick and strong as Dream had fantasised, and just as hairy as his top half. As well as a view of how those pants rode up enough to make Dream question if the man was wearing underwear.

Dream stumbled to the nearest restroom, locking himself in a stall and attempting to breathe and calm his erratic heart beat.

Friend, friend. Hob is your friend. Dream chanted to himself, keeping his hand out of his pants and taking deep breaths as his blood circulation regulated itself. Don’t make it weird.

Dream didn’t know how to socialise on a good day, and how with a half naked Hob in the building– shamelessly on display and humouring drunk female staff as they boldly sat on his knee– Dream felt himself shutting down entirely, spluttering and stumbling over his speech with enough velocity that he feared he'd glitch and spark out, setting the place on fire. Or at the very least, melt into a puddle of goo, the remains of his dignity soaked into the hardwood floor.

Dream tossed back drink after drink, matching Jo’s pace if only to distract his wandering thoughts, losing his jacket somewhere in the scuffle and rolling up the sleeves of his black button down.

Johanna’s laughter snapped Dream back to the present, looking down at the red solo cup in his hand and Jo standing across from him, visibly swaying on that spot. Dream doesn’t remember what he’d said to elicit such a reaction, but felt his lips curl anyway. 

“What’s so funny?”

“You, dreamboat!” Jo’s laughter simmered down to a pleasant chuckle, if not a little devious. “I thought– nah, can’t be. But holy shit, you like Hob, don’t you?”

It took several long, embarrassing seconds to figure out what Jo just asked him. Dream felt warmth spreading up his ears.

“Of course. He’s my friend–”

“Nonono–” Jo stepped into Dream’s space, landing a heavy hand on his bony shoulder. “You like him. I can tell, because you haven’t spoken to him all night.”

Dream swallowed. The alcohol was affecting his brain, sloshing it around and rendering him speechless.

Johanna smirked. “Am I wrong?”

“You’re a menace, Constantine.” Dream said, pushing her hand off him and sliding his gaze sideways to find Hob rubbing the tops of his thighs. It’d been well over an hour since they’d arrived, Dream wondered how long Hob had been sitting there, playing a role he clearly wasn’t enjoying anymore.

Jo inclined her head.

“He likes you too.”

Dream’s head snapped back to meet Jo’s eyes, searching for that tell of humour or sarcasm, and finding none.

She leaned in conspiratorially. “He told me not to tell you. Thinks your eyes are ‘dazzling’ and your hands are pretty–” she makes a face at that one. “And that your hair looks– and I quote– ‘like raven’s feathers’.”

Dream swallows, his throat suddenly dry.

“When did he tell you this?”

Jo huffs a sigh, taking a sip from her beer, her lips making a smacking sound off the bottle’s mouth.

“The night after I introduced you two.”

Dream’s heart flips over at the revelation. 

Johanna winks and shoves at Dream’s shoulder. “Now go say hi before you break his heart.”

Taking Johanna’s advice seems like a death sentence, but Dream is just drunk enough to summon courage, finishing off his drink and setting the empty cup on a random surface, before forcing his shoulders back and finally making his way towards Hob.

The smile that breaks across Hob’s face once he spots Dream is staggering, and it strikes Dream down more so than before, informed with the knowledge that Hob might like him as much as Dream does.

Dream slips his hands into the pockets of his slacks, affecting nonchalance as he finally stands before Hob.

“Hello, Hob.”

“Hey, Dream.” Hob tugs on his ear, looking up at Dream. His entire body seems to relax, even slouching a bit in the chair. “Was surprised to see you here.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, I know parties aren’t really your thing.”

Dream hums, his eyes selfishly taking in their fill. This close to Hob, he can catalogue every hair, curve and freckle in greater detail, storing the information away for later.

And with Hob looking up at him, giving the illusion of superior height, an unmistakable flicker of arousal begins low in Dream’s belly. 

“I can be persuaded, from time to time.” Dream smiles, coy. The alcohol gives him a confidence boost and relaxes him further. “I apologise for not visiting you sooner.”

Hob waves it off. “I honestly didn’t expect you to. I know this is… a lot.” He gestures to himself and laughs self-deprecatingly. “I only agreed to be Sexy Santa because I owe Jo a favour.”

“It’s a fetching look on you,” Dream says, flinging himself into the deep end. He bites his bottom lip as Hob actually looks twice up at Dream, his smile falling into something like disbelief.

“O-oh. Really?” Hob laughs, but it’s small, doubtful. Dream will have to remedy that.

Dream takes a long breath, grounding himself, licking his lips before speaking what he’d wanted to say to Hob all night.

“I believe it’s my turn to ask Santa what I want for Christmas?”

The prettiest pink flush rises up Hob’s cheeks. His lips part as his eyes rove across Dream, down and up.

Despite what Johanna said, Dream feels himself shake with nerves as he tips forward, touching the top of Hob’s thigh before slowly lowering himself onto it. His eyes never leave Hob’s as he goes, silently asking for permission and receiving a nod once he’s fully seated.

Hob’s hand instantly curls around Dream’s narrow hips, holding him steady, locking him into place both upon his lap and in his gaze; wide and dark and focused.

Dream crossed one leg over the other, settling his hands on his knees, which inadvertently causes him to sway that much closer to Hob. He can feel the heat of his body, this close. Can smell something sweet and earthy, like sandalwood and pine, mixed in with something tangy that makes Dream’s mouth water. He has to hold back the urge to close the gap between them and shove his face in Hob’s chest, into the crook of his neck, under his armpit and lose his sanity. Abandon all pretence and inhale Hob like a wild animal, scent and mark him with his teeth and tongue and–

Hob swallows. Dream watches the way his Adam’s apple bobs, fascinated.

“Are you messing with me?”

Dream cocks an eyebrow. “You think me capable of jokes?”

Hob laughs, soft, wonderful. “You are. You’re the funniest person I’ve ever met.”

His thumb is pressing into Dream’s side, caressing back and forth, sending spikes of electricity through his veins and heating him up from the inside.

“No one thinks I’m funny,” Dream says matter-of-factly. 

“Well, you make me laugh,” Hob says simply, his other hand coming across Dream’s front to lace his fingers together, forming a snare around Dream that ignites something within him. “You challenge me, keep me on my toes… keep me guessing.”

Dream’s heart beats so hard against his ribs it nearly hurts. He wonders if Hob can hear it, how he makes his blood race a mile a minute. 

“I’m being very serious,” Dream takes a breath. “But if you deny me, I’ll just say I’m drunk.”

Hob laughs again, his hold around Dream tightening and nearly causing Dream’s knee to bump into Hob’s crotch.

“Are you drunk?”

Dream is very aware that they are in the middle of a party, and although the people around them seem to be paying them little attention, it would probably be inappropriate to follow the path enticing him to resituate himself on Hob’s lap to instead straddle him. To grind his barely contained semi against Hob’s flimsy excuse for shorts, while winding his arms around his shoulders and kiss him stupid.

Dream leans forward, brushing his lips along the shell of Hob’s ear and lowers his voice.

“Not enough to not know what I want.”

Hob groans, Dream can feel the vibration in his own chest as he pulls back just enough to see how his eyes have fluttered shut, swallowing again before opening his eyes and focusing on him.

“And what do you want, Dream?”

“Whatever you’ll give me,” Dream wets his lips. His hands venture up, tentatively brushing his knuckles against Hob’s bronze skin, fascinated at how snow-white his own appears against it. His fingers uncurl as he dares himself to properly touch; pushing into the soft flesh at Hob’s sides and drinking in the unmistakable sound of a choked off whine from his friend.

“I’ll take anything, Hob.”

“Holy shit–” Hob whispers, his head lolling back, exposing his throat which Dream violently refuses to latch his mouth on to.

“Okay…” Hob clears his throat, his eyes swinging over to gauge Dream again. His pupils are blown wide, hunger clear in its depths. “Okay.”

He’s looking at Dream’s mouth as he speaks again. “Meet me out back in 10 minutes?”

Dream bites back a smile and nods, his heart soaring as he climbs off Hob.

Johanna gives him a knowing look as Dream stumbles back into the crowd to find his jacket and coat, managing a wave (great, now he owed her a favour as well) before all but running out of the building to make good on his promise to Hob.

Hob makes good on his offer as well; indeed giving Dream everything he’d wanted. All night.

[hearteyespierce]

~1954. the war is over and they are living in sin and they are so happy 🥹 queerplatonic houlihawk my beloved.

[astarionbae]

KY'S BIRTHDAY EXCHANGE

a poster of Elizabeth "Lizzie" Chase for @luucypevensie bonus manip:

taglist: @aliverse, @jewishbarbies, @maddyperiez, @asirensrage, @richitozier, @oneirataxia-girl, @endless-hoppington, @carmens-garden, @squirrelstone, @lucys-chen, @rey-of-luke, @reysfinn, @fandomqueenlove, @mmmayflower2016, @bravelittleflower, @kiara-carrera, @susiesamurai, @witchofinterest, @heresthefanfiction, @margoshansons, @starcrossedjedis, @zoyazenik, @dyhlanobrien, @eddiemunscns, @bisexualterror, @waterloou, @claryxjackson, @dreamerwithapen1, @seize-the-droid, @foxesandmagic, @harleyquinnzelz, @anotherunreadblog, @kendelias, @phoebestarks, @anqelwiithhxrns, @the-multifandommess-blog, @bobfloydsbabe, @decennia, @enchanted--roses, @arrthurpendragon

[taintandviolent]

LETS GOOOOOOOOO CANT WAIT FOR PART TWO

ANON. I DON'T KNOW IF YOU'RE STILL HERE.... but it's been posted!!!!!

[happygochi]

Happy birthday to @silbermond-s!!! 🎂🥳🎈🎊🎉

The most appropriate way to celebrate is with not just one Trunks, but TWO 😋

[honnelander]

i’m in love w your mutual pining series with sanji 😭😭 i was wondering if you’d consider making a lil imagine/blurb about sanji being jealous of someone flirting with the reader? like imagine zoro and the reader just talking and then zoro suddenly leans closer and whispers to her “it seems we’ve got an audience” or smth like that

anon, thank you for your amazing suggestion and love for the go fish! series. this request inspired the prequel to go fish! that i'm about to post so seriously, thank YOU for requesting this!

the fic can be found here

[senditcolton]

happy happy birthday sweet nicole!!! may i request prompt 18 with one mister ryan graves? love you ❤️

starting off with this one because this is probably the only blurb where i recommend you actually listen to the song it's inspired by. (i was also watching crimson peak while writing this so... just imagine full on gothic romance and you'll be fine [you also get a quote to set the scene even more])

Woman, Eat Me Whole Ama Asantewa Diaka

The auditorium is nearly empty. The champagne had been drunk, speeches given, and the money given. Donated to whichever charitable cause that the New Jersey Devils organization was supporting tonight.

And you were left wondering why you even bothered to come in the first place.

Jack Hughes, of all people, invited you to attend this gala as his plus one. Just as friends, simply because he was desperate since he was left ‘dateless’ at the last minute. And you took pity on him, letting the young center bring you to the gala even though he managed to leave you as soon as one of the pretty socialites caught his attention.

You didn’t fault him for it. It was an unspoken part of the deal you two shared. You just wished he managed to be a better buffer between you and the person you wished you could forget. Your ex, Ryan.

Instead, here you were, sitting at an abandoned table in the room, fingers gently fidgeting with the edge of your phone case as you finish the last of your drink, debating whether to barter a ride from one of the remaining couples or suck it up and pay for an Uber yourself. You were so lost in your internal dilemma that you didn’t notice the presence come up next to you until an all too familiar voice broke the silence.

“Could I have this dance?”

You glance up and there he is. Looking as heartbreakingly handsome as you recall, the all-black suit highlighting his pale skin, his palm upturned towards you. A silent invitation in addition to the spoken.

“I haven’t seen you out on the dance floor the entire night,” you say, refusing to give a reply. Although as soon as those words were out of your mouth, you see the small twitch at the corner of Ryan’s lips and you realize that you gave yourself away. Told him in not so many words that your eyes had been following him throughout the night.

“I suppose I was waiting for the perfect partner,” he responds. “Would you be mine?”

His hand is still extended to you, empty and waiting. Your eyes flit up to his face, the sharp lines of his cheekbones and jawline highlighted in the flickering ballroom lights, the hazel of his eyes shining even brighter than you remember them.

This wasn’t a good idea. You knew that. Others would wonder what harm could come from a single dance, but you understood that if you allowed him to get close to you again, it would be harder to let him go.

You knew that.

And yet, before you could talk yourself out of it, your hand was reaching towards his. You hesitate for a brief moment, fingers curling back before extending again as you slide your hand into his outstretched palm.

His fingers curl around yours, a bare brush of his thumb across your knuckles as he leads you to the dance floor in the middle of the ballroom.

The beat of your heart is a fluttering mess, a caged bird wanting to fly as you step out onto the hardwood floor, your hand still placed in Ryan’s. He stops, guiding you to gently turn and face him, the hem of your dress gently sweeping across the floor.

Your hand falls from his as you two face each other, the space between you filled with trepidation. It is a moment where either of you could turn back, decide against this and leave the past buried, the way it’s meant to be.

But when Ryan extends his hand to you again, there is no hesitance this time as you place your hand in his. Your hands clasp together as Ryan lifts his arm before taking a small step towards you, his free hand slipping behind you, finding a respectful place on the center of your back.

Your own hand creeps up before you place it delicately on Ryan’s bicep, light as a feather. Your eyes once again jump to his, the lingering concern shown in your irises. However, Ryan dissuades your fears with a soft smile and there is no stopping the small gasp that leaves you as he pulls you closer.

Another breath, another moment before he begins to move. It is slow, perhaps a little stilted at first but soon you relax, falling into the ebb and flow of the music, relinquishing your control and allowing Ryan to guide you across the dance floor.

“You are strangely good at this,” you muse aloud, your own gaze darting around the room, seeing the other couples out on the floor with you simply swaying.

“It’s a gift,” he replies, which is not much of an explanation but it was one you were willing to overlook if it allowed you to remain in this fantasy with him. Ryan guides you into a gentle spin, letting your dress flow out around you before he sweeps you back into his arms.

“You look lovely tonight,” he whispers down to you. You don’t give a verbal reply, just a small duck of your head as you feel the heat threatening to creep up your neck as you and Ryan continue to dance. “You do,” he continues. “Just as beautiful as the day I first met you.”

“Ryan,” you murmur, your head spinning and heart skipping from the feeling of him so close to you again.

“I remember that day,” he continues, his voice soft, almost reverent. “I think about it every time I try and fall asleep. I see you everywhere.” You lean back, eyes once again connecting to his, watching as a soft melancholy smile pulls at his lips.

“You are doing a very good job at haunting me.”

“It was never my intention,” you whisper, acutely aware of the warmth of him palm against yours, the flex of his fingers against your waist.

“I know,” he replies, his voice just as soft as yours. “I don’t mind. It lets me know that I once had you. If only for a moment.”

“Ryan,” you say again, feeling him pull you closer to which you respond in kind, your hand moving from his upper arm to curl around his shoulder, the gravity of him impossible to resist. You feel him lean into you, his face mere inches from yours, your eyes wide and pleading. Pleading for what, you weren’t certain.

“I hate this,” he breathes out. “I hate that I was the one to let this end; that I made it seem like you weren’t enough. I hate that I made you the enemy, that your heart became the casualty.”

His words make your head spin, the tears to well in your eyes as he leans impossibly closer to you, his forehead touching yours.

“But more than anything,” he persists, “I hate that I need you like this… so desperately.”

You can feel the soft heat of his breath fanning across your cheeks, the subtle brush of his thumb against your jawline. The two of you stay there for a moment, the tension between you wound so tightly it could shatter; fragile as the porcelain of Ryan’s skin.

It is Ryan that moves first, your eyes closing, not wanting to wake up from this dream; the dream of him wanting you again. You expect to feel his lips against yours, no matter how much the rational part of your brain was screaming in protest. Instead, the delicate press of his lips falls gently onto skin of your forehead; a mere whisper of a kiss.

Your eyes open, your gaze following him as he takes a miniscule step back, the distance between your bodies widening once more along with the distance in your hearts.

“Why?” you plead, your own voice fracturing with the overflow of emotions pouring from you. It’s a single question, the answer to which was immense. But somehow, Ryan knew what you were asking, just as he always did.

“I refuse to put you though that pain again,” he explains. “Not for my own selfish reasons.”

A single crystal teardrop cascades from your eye, rolling down your cheek. The mournful smile remains on Ryan’s face as he sweeps the droplet off your skin, his touch lingering there, a phantom in its own right.

“I can only hope that in another life, I somehow managed to get it right.”

[tonberry-yoda]

okay going into the actual stuff I’m about 5’3 and midsized (a lil chubby), I’m a ENTP and a Gemini with an extremely extroverted personality who would prefer to have someone to keep me in check as I get a lil too chaotic and out there esp if my anger is pushed but also at the same time having someone who is the same would be nice, I’m pretty chill at home and just sit back watching YouTube or playing games, I worry a lot about how I look as I hate having my hair be a mess or be without makeup (I’m very insecure), besides having some anger issues I’m also very sensitive I cry over anything esp when I’m angry. my hobbies include stuff like makeup, clothes, cosplay, drawing, and singing, i usually dress in the subculture of jfashion named kawaii fashion but usually I’m in a open hoodie, shorts and sports bra, What I am seeking in the relationship is a companion and someone to be there for me as I will be for them and be a forever partner I look for someone who is just as obsessed with me as I am with them and I love me a protective partner, my music tastes include mother mother, Doja Cat, Grimes, Metric, Ghost, Lady Gaga, Mitski, The neighborhood and Arctic Monkey..and now finally my love language is touch I LOVE TOUCH SO MUCH I’m so touch starved and I am big on gift giving and words of affirmation

hey hey!!! omg first off i apologize that this took so long! i was getting to matchups last, but they're a good warm up, so this was perfect timing! i'm honestly so glad we started talking on tumblr because you are so so so cool and just a really nice person to talk to when we do. it also made this matchup 100x easier, so without further ado...

the character I chose for you is...

NARCISO ANASUI!!!

he would adore you as much as you adore him

physical touch you say??? say no more, this man will be touching you whenever you are in a radius of 10 ft or less

he LOVES your music

like y'all will just cuddle and listen to music as he hums doja cat in your hair

he will also praise you like no other. this man loves you so much it's not even funny

he'll watch you as you draw or purposely sneak into the kitchen while you're singing just to hear your voice

a little chubby you say?!?!?!?!? THIS MAN WOULD LOVE A BIT OF SQUISH! he will knock that insecurity off of you so flippin fast

he thinks you're beautiful inside and out

when you cry he would be so understanding and wipe your tears with his thumb telling him how much he loves you

would let you do his makeup frfr

and ofc you two would show up in matching fits

he's a bit of a calm man, so he can control and love your more extroverted personality with a soft smile on his face

he will be that forever partner you crave and will love you forever

(i mean have you seen how he looks at jolyne?!??! like come on)

~~~

matchup rules --- pinned post

@tonberry-yoda

[indianasolo221]

Omg omg omg skimble!!!!!!

Oops! Skimbleshanks dropped this in my den by mistake. It's addressed to you, so here you go! Wonder what that Railway Cat is up to today...

[wiser-girl]

https://at.tumblr.com/livsindelusion/706891467681136640/7tztpty63cyx

hi yes pls i would Love to see this fic???? 🙏

YES ANON THANK YOU I LOVE GIVING FIC RECS

Call My Name by KathSilver is genuinely one of my favourite fics of all time and I think I read it 4 times last year. 3 part series re-write (mix of book and movie canon but you should be good either way) where Thomas and Newt time travel back to day one with their memories intact. Slow-burn EXCELLENCE and just the perfect level of co-dependence I love from my dystopian couples, I cannot recommend it enough!

[robyn-i-guess]

liking someone platonically is so embarrassing like. yeah i admire you. yeah i think about you all the time. yeah i look forward to every time i see you even if it's only for a minute. yeah it's all platonic and yeah i couldn't explain this because it'd sound romantic. fucking hell

[whiteshipnightjar]

Zoozve, my beloved

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

License to Kitty.

[onekisstotakewithme]

having online friends who are busy is just like. I LOVE YOU. I miss you. YOU GOT THIS. I'm giving you space to work. I LOVE YOU.

[wheelsup-sevenup]

genuinely save me

[derangedorange]

I hope he views fanart like this