#oh the ending 🥹

[hyunpic]

HYUNJIN | SKZ DOCUSERIES EP. 1: I-DAYS MILANO, BST HYDE PARK, LOLLAPALOOZA CHICAGO

[chellychuu]

☘️💖

[books-books-smolderinglooks]

Love drunk and we're never sober.. If I die tonight then I'll die happily, with your hands on me.. 🧡💜

-Wrong by Omar Rudberg

[martybaker]

Over the rainbow

So I know we love torturing or at least inconveniencing retired Dream with new human ailments and realities, I love doing that as well, but the thesis of this was - what if Dream retired and he finally got to be at peace and all was well, actually 🥹

(started this for prompt First time for dreamling week but here we are over a week late)

————

“I’ve never been kissed,” Dream announces.

He’s settled on the far end of Hob’s sofa with his knees up, chin settled on top of them and arms loosely hugging his legs, somehow looking both comfortable and relaxed as well as like a model in the middle of a photoshoot.

Hob’s had a hard time not staring but when Dream says that line his eyes immediately snap to the vision on his couch, clothed in hues of beige, wrapped in Hob’s own softest cardigan, and he nearly spills the tea that he was bringing for a sip.

“Huh? What?” He asks dumbly, voice unnaturally high pitched.

Dream merely blinks at him and waits him out.

When the wheels in Hob’s brain start turning again he does try to parse that statement, but all he can come up with is: “But…you’ve had relationships? You had a wife and all, did you not kiss? Was it all like, metaphysical or-“

Dream rolls his eyes, unimpressed. “Of course I’ve kissed my partners. Let me rephrase the statement. Murphy has never been kissed.”

Oh.

Dream’s talking about his new human body. His new self, that he named Murphy, a name to be used for dull but necessary identity paperwork that Hob obtained for Dream through rather illegal means.

It’s only been a little over a month since Dream turned human, but he’s been very…calm while settling into his new reality. The retirement was his own choice and he seemed to be perfectly content with his decision, despite the fact that he was forced to live with Hob in his messy little apartment while they figure something of his own for him.

Well, if.

Dream also seemed perfectly content in Hob’s space and showed no interest whatsoever in looking at flat listings.

Not that Hob minded. He would happily spend every minute every day with his friend, if it wouldn’t make him feel guilty about slacking on his job and his students. After all, Hob’s chosen career wasn’t just to keep himself busy, he really enjoyed teaching young impressionable minds about days past, keeping the history alive. Remembering.

But his joy in teaching was currently found lacking compared to the newfound joy of Dream in his home. Not just visiting, robed in dark colors, taking time off of his duties to spend a moment with Hob, but human, dressed in earthly colors, there in the mornings for shared breakfasts and still there in the evenings when Hob returned. Reading a book, slowly going through Hob’s vast vinyl collection, playing the piano, painting, knitting, molding clay. Pale blue eyes focused and clever hands at work, creating, always creating. He’s always been an artist and that part of him stayed true, despite the big change.

All things considered, Hob’s really been having a hard time keeping his foolish heart in check. And with Dream saying things like this, things like-

“This mouth has never been kissed.”

Hob’s eyes drop to Dream’s lips as soon as Dream says that, just to see them twitch in a pleased smile.

Hob stares at him, at a loss for words, while Dream looks back at him expectantly. Expecting…an answer? A reassurance?

Hob clears his throat. “Well…I’m sure it will be? It’s a very lovely mouth,” he says, unable to stop the blush coloring his cheeks.

Dream sighs a long suffering sigh and pets the couch next to himself. “Come here,” he commands.

There’s no ancient power of a monarch of the Dreaming behind it anymore, but Dream still keeps his regality, his head held high, a quiet gravitas to him. Not quite the same as when he was an Endless, but still there.

Confident, elegant, graceful.

And calm, like the still water of an indigo lake high in the mountains.

Hob blinks. What was the question? Oh, right, he was being summoned. He moves to sit next to Dream.

Dream turns towards him, leans in and closes his eyes.

Is he…?

Hob is frozen in shock once again. ��Ahh, you, you want me to…?”

Dream opens his sky blue eyes again, staring into Hob’s soul. “Yes,” he says decisively.

There’s a beat when they just stare into each other’s eyes and then Dream closes his again. Waiting, alluring lips just a few inches from Hob’s.

But Hob’s having a crisis. They’ve never done this before! Dream’s never said anything about being…attracted to Hob, he’s never suggested, he never seemed interested that way.

One time, Hob got drunk and Dream had to drag his ass upstairs to bed, and Hob was just enough at his senses to remember that he slurred: “D’ya know what I like best about being immortal?”

“What,” Dream asked as he pulled Hob upwards, making sure he wouldn’t stumble on the stairs.

And Hob smiled goofily and said: “You.”

Dream just blinked at him. He didn’t say anything, not then, not when Hob got propositioned by the shopkeep when they were out together, browsing for new (old) records, not when Death was visiting and she teased if they changed their dates to weekly instead of centennialy.

Not when they were walking in a park, and Dream seemed to be watching a couple on another path on a stroll as well, holding hands.

Hob’s good mood made him act foolish, he reached out a hand in offering, but Dream… he just stared at it. Hob quickly withdrew it, running it through his hair, chuckling nervously. “I was just teasing,” he said weakly, but by that point he was sure his feelings were transparent and Dream’s lack of reaction was a clear signal.

Then again, maybe this was just harmless experimentation? Wanting to know what it feels like, being kissed as a human?

But Hob still hesitates. He feels too strongly about Dream to casually mess around without being wary of the consequences.

“Uhh, wait. I, are you sure? I don’t-“

Dream sighs and his patience with Hob apparently runs out because he pulls Hob towards him by his shirt, kissing him square on the lips.

Hob makes a surprised sound, but then he closes his eyes and falls into the kiss.

It’s unhurried and rather chaste, yet Hob’s heart seems to be doing its best trying to jump out of his chest.

Dream pulls away, slowly opening his eyes.

“How….how did that feel?” Hob asks, reminding himself that this was just an experiment. A one time deal.

Dream contemplates his answer. “Different,” he says.

“Different than when you were..Endless?

“Yes.”

“Good different or bad different?”

Dream frowns. “No such dichotomy applies,” he says, and then he leans back in again and Hob leans away.

He chuckles nervously. “Ahh, haha, hold on. You’re gonna make me think you like kissing me.” He tries to turn it into a joke, holding Dream lightly by his shoulders, trying to prevent him from darting forward again.

Dream glares at him. “And what, pray tell, is making you think I don’t.”

“Oh…really?” Hob lets go of one bony shoulder to pinch his own arm. Surely, he’s still asleep and this is just a …dream.

Dream’s glare turns even more unimpressed. “You’re awake,” he says, sharp, and as if to prove his point he kisses Hob again, more hungrily and passionately, biting at his lower lip, Hob’s hold too slack to hold him back.

They kiss and kiss and it’s far from chaste this time, Dream seems to have made it his mission to explore Hob’s mouth thoroughly, while his hands explore his chest.

Hob’s hand burrows into Dream’s hair, he isn’t able to hold back now, kissing back with vigor, treasuring Dream’s every gasp.

They’re both breathing hard by the time they part - by the time Hob has to pull Dream back by his hair to stop him from diving back in.

He can’t help but laugh. “You do actually need to breathe now, you know.”

Dream doesn’t seem too pleased with this reminder. He huffs, sitting back onto his heels.

Hob already misses the feeling of him in his arms.

He clears his throat. There’s a very important question to be asked first.

“Is it…just the kissing that you like?”

Dream tilts his head at Hob like a cat, measuring him. “You cannot tell?”

Hob shakes his head.

“You’re not very bright, Hob Gadling,” Dream says, and Hob would protest, he would tease back, but the words get stuck in his throat when Dream takes Hob’s hand into his own, putting it on his chest and making Hob feel his racing heartbeat.

Hob inhales, blushing.

“You…I…,” he sighs, searching for words. “I still have a lot to learn,” he offers, smiling at Dream.

“As do I,” says Dream.

It is marvelous seeing Dream like this. His words are confident but his heart beats wildly under Hob’s hand, pink colors his cheeks, chest rising and falling with deep breaths.

He’s trusting Hob with this, with his very human body whose reactions he cannot temper, cannot regulate.

Hob chuckles, feeling warm.

He loves this, the marvelous feeling of finding out your crush likes you back, the feeling that’s always incredible, no matter the time and place, no matter how many times he’s experienced it. One of his favorite feelings, the ones that make life an amazing journey.

“I really thought you weren’t interested in me like that,” he says.

Dream sighs. “I…could not be.”

Hob’s heart aches.

He has to touch, now that he’s allowed, now that he’s invited to. He kisses Dream’s forehead, his cheeks, delighting in the sighs he earns.

He kisses Dream's neck and Dream tilts his head for better access, making Hob feel lightheaded and so full of happiness he can hardly contain it. “I won’t be able to keep my hands off of you now,” he warns. “I’ll kiss you a hundred times every day.”

“A thousand times” Dream says, and Hob laughs, scraping his teeth against alabaster skin, making Dream moan.

He smirks, gaining back his confidence now that he knows Dream means this. He holds him around the waist, pulling him closer.

“I did learn a certain thing or two over the years,” he says slyly, dipping Dream backwards, laying him on the couch. Dream sighs indulgently, wrapping his hands around Hob’s shoulders, holding him close.

“Want me to show you?” Hob asks, and Dream hums in confirmation, pulling him for another kiss.

Soft notes play from the old record player, outside warm spring sun rays melt the last reminders of winter, birds chirp their welcoming songs.

Hope is in the air.

Dream’s here, in Hob’s home, in his arms. The cold weeks when he was distant and quietly hurting and Hob could sense something was very, very wrong but didn’t know how to fix it now seem like a distant memory too.

Hob pulls back for a second, holding Dream’s head in his hands, savoring the moment.

“Will you stay?” he whispers.

Dream inhales, his hand shaking a little when he places it on Hob’s cheek, caressing Hob’s lips with his thumb.

“I’m exactly where I want to be,” he says, smiling.

————

[dollsome-does-tumblr]

the one you have waited for to be mated with

[baeshijima]

mmm thoughts of private executioner!blade, who is high priestess!kafka's bodyguard. well, more like her guard dog, as many fearfully seem to think.

he is aloof and gruff and rough around the edges, his name capturing it perfectly. when in the eyes of the public he either keeps to himself or stands ready by kafka's side, but when out he lurks in the shadows ready and waiting to carry out her death orders.

you, yourself, haven't had very many pleasant encounters with him... if you can even call them that. that being said, you haven't had many pleasant encounters with anyone. notorious for your... less than pleasant disposition, for a lack of better words, you have more people who'd rather see you run through than those you can call a friend.

in a dog-eat-dog world, you had no choice but to protect yourself. that, however, ultimately became your demise.

"oh? so you're the one sent to kill me. can't say i'm all that surprised."

standing before you is the feared executioner. his sword is tucked inside the sheath attached to his hip, that ever-present dark swirl of an aura stifling the air. he doesn't say anything, instead opting to silently stare down at your slumped and worn-out form. you find that his gaze doesn't bother you; rather, it's oddly comforting knowing someone will see you in your last moments.

"i've never asked you for a favour before, so this will be my first and last request for you." in all honesty, you're not sure where this chattiness stems from. considering you're currently in a holding cell under the crime of attempted murder towards kafka (a poisoned wine you were most definitely framed for, though you can't say you were surprised) and are awaiting for your turn to be under the guillotine for your public execution, you probably should be a little desperate towards the private executioner in front of you.

and yet, your mind is nothing if not peaceful.

with a huff, you relay your request, "can you make sure it's quick? painless, preferably, but i'd rather you just get it over and done with."

silence blankets the cold chambers. moisture accumulated along the cobble ceiling drip in a steady rhythm, like a clock ticking away the seconds. it's unnerving, almost, how there is not a single sound other than your impending countdown.

"why?" comes his low mutter, effectively causing a ripple within the stagnant air. you almost think you misheard him, but his following words cease the thought, "why won't you ask me for help?"

had it not been for the abrupt shuffle and clanging against the metal bars, you would have never looked up to see him in your last moments.

his scarred hands gripping the metal until his knuckles turn a ghastly white and blood dripping from his palms is what greets your sight. as your gaze slowly trails up, you almost let loose a laugh of disbelief; who would have thought blade, the infamous guard dog of the high priestess, could make such a desperate expression? one looking as though his whole world crumbled before him, in which he can do nothing but sit and watch.

(you will never know of the anger and desperation which coursed through his veins the moment he heard of your predicament. had it been anyone else, he wouldn't have cared. but you're not anyone else; you're you — unapologetically, wholeheartedly. it didn't take him long to hunt down those behind it, cutting them down without thought and putting an end to their miserable lives. he rushed as soon as he could when kafka gave him the order, no thoughts other than you, you, you, occupying his mind.

you will never know of the anguish which overcame him when he found you in such a state, your once healthy complexion and defiant gaze reduced to nothing but a tiredness which had always sat quietly behind your disposition. he's almost positive the muscle which unwillingly keeps him alive tore at the seams from your request, the acceptance in which you displayed causing his mind to go astray. even as he damn-near begs you to rely on him for help — to run away with him to some place no one knows of you and start anew there — you merely smile, resigned and peaceful.

you will never know of how much blade is willing to put on the line for you, for you never made it to see the complete and utter carnage he wrecked in your name.)

[uhbasicallyjustmilex]

🖤💛

[liliumofthevalleyy]

I'M SO EMOTIONAL OVER THE ENDING OF THE REMAINS

ALL WILLIAM CAN THINK OF ARE THE SINS THAT AROSE FROM HIS ACTIONS/BEING THE LORD OF CRIME. BUT HIS ACTIONS ALSO GAVE RISE TO A NEW SWEET BEGINNING FOR A COUPLE, AND A NEW LIFE, THAT WILL LIVE ON AND GROW IN A BRIGHT WORLD.

I love Louis so much for insisting on getting another photograph, with everyone, after William insisted his face being cut off is fine. TELL HIM 🗣

Also I will never get tired of the way Miyoshi Hikaru draws expressions, especially when it comes to William, Albert, and Moran. Like it brings out so much about their inner feelings in a situation without anything having to be said, or a sfx being present.

I could yap about William's expressions in the Final Problem and post-Final Problem forever.

[helpmyinterestsareverywhere]

"Where's Unagami?"

"Where he belongs. He's home."

[hanzajesthanza]

people (the rest of the hanza. not including geralt) often forget that cahir was 1. the guy that kidnapped ciri 2. an officer in the military

he’s literally so polite in geralt’s company you wouldn’t even guess he was the black knight. and yet. and yet.

i’m never certain exactly how to reconcile this tactful and strategic mind with the terrified young man

[littencloud9]

i love u nekoma & karasuno i love you SO MUCH

[yellowhollyhock]

return to the underground is so funny because everything Donny says or does Raph and Leo are like 'that's him our baby brother, precious little genius, watch watch he's gonna do something cool, we are so proud. do you need anything Don Don'

And Mikey's like 'this is the worst plan you've ever had. I hate you.'

He really was not happy about going back underground XD

[thelov3lybookworm]

Who bullied you on tumblr?

i might get bullied more if i give you their names 👀

but just know that it was two of them, and then one of my followers became their friend and they bullied me and my besties 🤷🏻‍♀️

[uhbasicallyjustmilex]

🌸 !!CHAPTER TEN POSTED!! 🌸

Title: Four Walls

Tags: slow burn, domesticity, friends to lovers, smut, pining post sias/pre am era

Summary: Disillusioned with LA and on the heels of a breakup, Alex goes to stay with Miles in London.

[starlooove]

Trying to make a netrunner v but I’m fucking stupid and wouldn’t know subtle if it bit me in the ass