#or simply as

[moorishflower]

i wrote a lot of the Odyssey Hob fic today and so I can write more kink...as a treat...

@thunderburning it's your chance to shine

Warning: there's ambiguously-natured pussy under this cut! It's Hob/Dream flavored!

It's half-past eleven by the time that Hob turns out all the lights and finally drags himself to bed.

This wouldn't normally be that far out of his wheelhouse -- there's plenty of times he's not gone to sleep until the sun actually started rising -- except it's Sunday, he's still got eight essay responses on Molineux's Faces of Perfect Ebony to grade, there's a faculty meeting on Wednesday that Professor Belevonis has spent the last few months hounding him into presiding over,

(she thinks she's clever, but Hob subscribes to all the same newsletters, he knows when Tremblay is planning on releasing his newest paper, and he suspects that Stephanie has plans to get a. extremely drunk, and b. extremely spiteful, so that she can most effectively tear the man's research to shreds)

and, as the shit cherry on top of an already terrible cake, he'd gotten a text three hours ago from Quentin letting him know that the gent's toilets at the Inn had all begun to leak, slowly but inexorably, all at once.

Hence, the eight ungraded essays.

Tomorrow, he tells himself. He feels bone-weary right now, but if he can get at least a solid -- he checks the bedside clock -- six hours, he thinks he'll be able to fake his way through his first two classes. No one pays attention to Introduction to Medieval English Literature, not at 8 in the sodding morning, and his course on Chaucer and colonizing identities in the Middle Ages largely runs itself, so long as he gives the kids something to discuss and lets them build up a good head of steam.

So, with something of a plan in place, Hob strips himself down to his briefs, doesn't bother to put his clothes in the hamper, and collapses face-first into his pillows, fully intending not to wake until the dulcet tones of his alarm force him to do so.

Hob opens his eyes to a twilight so dark it seems to loop back around to brightness, the Milky Way a spill of countless white stars above him and the moon a perfect silver coin hung on threads of tinsel and gold, and also, someone's face is buried between his legs.

"Christ," he says, and reaches down to fist a hand in hair soft as dandelion fluff and glossy black as crow feathers, and he feels a hot laugh between the vee of his thighs, which, he realizes, are shuddering slightly, on account of the nose that's rubbing insistently at his clit.

"Good evening Hob," Dream rumbles, clearly pleased as punch with where he currently crouches, and every word he says sends another puff of breath gusting across him. If he grabs at Dream any harder he's going to start pulling hair out, so he does his damndest to relax his grip, even though every nerve in his body is telling him to grab Dream by the back of the neck and mash his face to Hob's cunt with enough force to break that dear, pointy little nose.

"S'that kind of night, then," Hob gets out, and lets his head fall back into soft grass, meadowsweet, lamb's ear, as Dream burrows further between Hob's legs, dragging his lips and his nose in a smear of pleasure along Hob's labia.

"I waited," Dream says, just petulant enough that Hob feels a bit bad, just demanding enough that he doesn't feel bad for long. "Matthew informs me you have had a trying day."

"Please don't talk about your weird bird when you've got your, hng." Hob doesn't get the chance to complain further, because Dream has stuck out his tongue and has dragged it in a long, wet glide from Hob's arsehole all the way to the tight strain of his clit.

"I thought I should oversee your rest personally."

"Kind of you," Hob says, dazed, and then scrabbles to grab fistfuls of bright-smelling greenery in one hand, petting Dream's hair with the other, over and over, his thighs trembling with the effort to stay still as Dream takes Hob's clit between his lips, all hard suction and the faintest pressure of teeth, until everything between his legs feels like a mass of fluttering birds, shivers wracking every muscle from his abdomen down. Dream winds him tighter and tighter, alternating between licking circles around Hob's cunny and sucking hard at his clit, until eventually he chances a look down and sees that the entire lower half of Dream's face, from his perfect sharp nose to his berry red mouth to the barest cleft of his chin, is soaking. Even his cheeks are come-shiny from where he's been rubbing them against Hob's thighs, and honestly, if the man was determined to lose a handful of hair then he ought have just asked.

Hob grabs a fistful of Dream's hair, just tight enough to feel the drag of resistance, and feels everything in him from belly down grow flashfire hot at the look of stunned arousal in Dream's face.

Hob drags him forward, plants his terrible, sinful, wonderful mouth against his cunt, and says, "Eat."

And Dream, the lines of his shoulders and spine gone tight and anticipatory and all of the Dreaming growing humid and rose-scented around them, is more than happy to oblige.

[werewolf-transgenderism]

just watched a video of a wildlife rehabber tube-feeding the teeny tiniest orphaned baby opossum and the comments are fucking KILLING me

baby opossum (too teeny, hasn’t finished cooking in the marsupial pouch like it ought to have done, doesn’t even look like it should exist):

the comments:

[daily-crabbys]

This Friday's meme is: the perfect being

[helen--richardson]

"The best part of being fat is being soft and comfy to cuddle with" "The best part of being fat is knowing people like you for your personality and not your looks" Wrong. The best part of being fat is getting to swim in ice-cold water for FAR longer than my peers. My skinny friends can barely last 10 minutes in the pacific ocean without losing feeling in their fingers meanwhile i can be in there for HOURS. I was born to swim in glacial lakes and icemelt streams. Also I float.

[bookwyrminspiration]

god I would be UNSTOPPABLE if I was capable of consistently initiating tasks. just you wait. you'll be waiting a while but just you wait

[killingsboys]

"if i was orpheus i would simply not turn around" yes you would. if you were orpheus and you loved eurydice, you would. to love someone is to turn around. to love someone is to look at them. whichever version of the myth — he hears her stumble, he can't hear her at all, he thinks he's been tricked — he turns around because he loves her. that's why it's a tragedy. because he loves her enough to save her. because he loves her so much he can't save her. because he will always, always turn around. "if i was orpheus i would simply —" you wouldn't be orpheus. you wouldn't be brave enough to walk into the underworld and save the person you love. be serious

[miiilowo]

non-practicing slut. is this anythign

[ofswordsandpens]

idk why people get super pedantic about the movie logic in Home Alone and start and try to pick it apart, because like, its a Christmas movie about a child accidentally being left home alone, the premise isn't exactly asking us to suspend our disbelief that much, and yet nearly every single "gotcha" question I see people bring up about this film is literally answered within the first 15 minutes :/

[captainjonnitkessler]

Sometimes I wish we would start calling out the performative radicalism on this site for the poser bullshit it is. "Remember, it's always morally correct to kill a cop!" "Don't forget to firebomb your local government office!" "Wow, it sure would be a shame if these instructions on how to make a molotov cocktail got spread around!"

Okay. But you're not killing cops or firebombing government offices. You are posting on a dying microblogging website to a carefully-curated echo chamber that has radicalized itself into thinking that taking the absolute most extreme position on any subject is praxis but that anyone discussing the most practical way to effect actual change is your sworn enemy. You do not have the street cred OR the activist cred to be talking about killing cops, babe.

[valtsv]

"objectively physically attractive but in possession of negative rizz" is one of my favorite character concepts. i think it's so great when there's an absurdly hot person who's just a complete fucking loser. the mood is unsalvageable the moment they open their mouth kind of deal. you get no bitches because you're so sucks.

[bloodraven55]

i’ve seen too many people arguing that marcille was already a full grown adult when she went to school at 35 despite literally all of the canon evidence indicating otherwise

[oceangenasi]

I'm absolutely obsessed with Laios' logic that the other shapeshifters made mistakes the real party members were too knowledgeable/careful/wise to make

but for Marcille he's like "only the real Marcille would do something that fucking stupid"

[tariah23]

White people are miserable, racist losers period. They’ve even been getting mad at Japanese people for correcting them about Yasuke as well.

[slicedblackolives]

kendrick lamar wrecked drake’s shit so hard he’s trending number two on the white fujoshi website 😭😭

[decamarks]

Thinking of becoming a guy that thinks wolves are the most badass and aspirational animal, but about ants. Like wearing t-shirts about being loyal to my Queen and training to bench 5x my bodyweight. Studying ant warfare. Posting shit like this

[bereft-of-frogs]

There’s that post that’s like ‘everyone should get into a tiny niche fandom at least once’ fully agree, that was really fun -- but I would like to add that everyone should get into a fandom where their opinions run counter to major fanon because it really teaches you about sticking to your guns and trusting your interpretation of the text without having to rely on peer validation

because WHAT are people talking about sometimes