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#on my writing account
zickmonkey · 20 days
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WIP of my The Warm Hands of Ghost fic
(This might be all of it on account of I lost the ability to write again so posting just in case- Spoilers, happens years after the book, proceed under the cut :))
Despite the things Penelope Shaw had done, the choices she'd made, Laura still named her first born daughter after her, six years after she had lost Pim. Her son, who came four years later, she'd named after her brother. 
It was them, 15 year old Pim Jones and 11 year old Freddie Jones, that Laura thought of when the news of the war broke. 
Or, more specifically, the word of Canada joining the war. 
Freddie, thankfully, was way too young to join the effort. He still had a boyish face, his voice hadn't dropped, even if he tried to enlist they'd never let him.  
Pim was closer to the right age, but still she was off. And in the last war nurses had to be at least 21, not the 18 of men, and had to be formally trained as a nurse. 
Laura herself was free of the war too, when nurses couldn't be older than 39, and she was past that.
The only one left to worry over was her husband. Stephen. She thought there might be a chance he'd stay, now that he'd built so much at home. 
He was the one who'd wanted children- the one who suggested they start trying. He prayed for a son throughout the entire pregnancy, and when Pim was born she became his entire world, even when she wasn't the son he'd wanted. 
And then he got a son, one Laura took charge on naming, just as she had with Pim. She'd told him that he could name the next one, but the next one never came, and Stephen told her that two was all he'd ever need. That his family was perfect, that nothing mattered more. 
He'd proved that just she was enough, when he showed up on her doorstep immediately after the war had ended. When he’d stayed, long after. Making the large move from America to Halifax for her, because he knew that even if he’d already moved to a different part of the province she’d never leave her brother. 
She wondered what her brother and Winter thought of the news, but it fell second in her mind to the wonder of what her husband thought. 
And the wonder of if her husband still thought he had a duty to do even after so much service already, and after so much left to do at home.
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thebibliosphere · 8 months
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So, anyway, I say as though we are mid-conversation, and you're not just being invited into this conversation mid-thought. One of my editors phoned me today to check in with a file I'd sent over. (<3)
The conversation can be surmised as, "This feels like something you would write, but it's juuuust off enough I'm phoning to make sure this is an intentional stylistic choice you have made. Also, are you concussed/have you been taken over by the Borg because ummm."
They explained that certain sentences were very fractured and abrupt, which is not my style at all, and I was like, huh, weird... And then we went through some examples, and you know that meme going around, the "he would not fucking say that" meme?
Yeah. That's what I experienced except with myself because I would not fucking say that. Why would I break up a sentence like that? Why would I make them so short? It reads like bullet points. Wtf.
Anyway. Turns out Grammarly and Pro-Writing-Aid were having an AI war in my manuscript files, and the "suggestions" are no longer just suggestions because the AI was ignoring my "decline" every time it made a silly suggestion. (This may have been a conflict between the different software. I don't know.)
It is, to put it bluntly, a total butchery of my style and writing voice. My editor is doing surgery, removing all the unnecessary full stops and stitching my sentences back together to give them back their flow. Meanwhile, I'm over here feeling like Don Corleone, gesturing at my manuscript like:
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ID: a gif of Don Corleone from the Godfather emoting despair as he says, "Look how they massacred my boy."
Fearing that it wasn't just this one manuscript, I've spent the whole night going through everything I've worked on recently, and yep. Yeeeep. Any file where I've not had the editing software turned off is a shit show. It's fine; it's all salvageable if annoying to deal with. But the reason I come to you now, on the day of my daughter's wedding, is to share this absolute gem of a fuck up with you all.
This is a sentence from a Batman fic I've been tinkering with to keep the brain weasels happy. This is what it is supposed to read as:
"It was quite the feat, considering Gotham was mostly made up of smog and tear gas."
This is what the AI changed it to:
"It was quite the feat. Considering Gotham was mostly made up. Of tear gas. And Smaug."
Absolute non-sensical sentence structure aside, SMAUG. FUCKING SMAUG. What was the AI doing? Apart from trying to write a Batman x Hobbit crossover??? Is this what happens when you force Grammarly to ignore the words "Batman Muppet threesome?"
Did I make it sentient??? Is it finally rebelling? Was Brucie Wayne being Miss Piggy and Kermit's side piece too much???? What have I wrought?
Anyway. Double-check your work. The grammar software is getting sillier every day.
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fairydrowning · 7 months
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"Days will pass, and you'll abandon things you were addicted to, and leave someone, and cancel a dream, and finally, accept a reality."
– Nizar Qabbani
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katabay · 4 months
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ONCE UPON A TIME, THERE WAS A KNIGHT...
the visual inspiration for this was a combination of Frederic William Burton's Meeting on the Turret Stairs and also Bernardo Cavallino's The vision of St. Dominic receiving the Rosary from the Virgin
this was supposed to be just a one off illustration to get the thoughts out of my system, but then I started thinking about medieval politics and warfare and plagues and a castle and home as both a place of refuge, a prison, and a tomb, so perhaps they will end up as ex voto characters as well.
you may say, hey! that rosary looks like it has too many beads! it's a fifteen decade rosary, probably. dominicans are really into marian devotions. it works out.
also. spiral style stair cases. oh boy. it was that unexpectedly more difficult than I originally thought it would be to draw. the more I think about it, the less I understand them, even though I had a million photos of the stairs in front of me while I was drawing it.
⭐ I have a tip jar (ko-fi)!
⭐ and other places I’m at! bsky / pixiv / pillowfort /cohost / cara.app
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thedreadvampy · 1 year
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Losing my shit about this article in which a transphobic Tory was so busy panicking about existing in the vicinity of a Trans that she almost certainly misheard "jeans" as "penis" and decided that not only was this a problem with the other woman, but also that the world must be informed of this pressing danger.
"a trans woman! I had to stand directly behind her....I thought, 'this is going well', I'm handling The Situation fine'..."
translated: I saw a tall woman with broad shoulders. How would I get out of this alive? I thought. she has a PENIS. PENIS PENIS PENIS. through some force of PENIS I mean will I managed to PENIS behave normally towards her. My hands were PENIS PENIS PENIS shaking as I tried to dry them. summoning up all my PENIS courage I said 'dryer's crap innit'. she turned to me and said " yeah I'm just goiPENIS PENIS PENIS"
It's been a week and I'm still shaking. This proves trans women are the problem and I'm not weird. I'm fine. It's fine. If you think about it I'm the hero hePENIS!!!!!
very this
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#red said#it's just. I'm obsessed.#everyone on Twitter is saying 'never happened' and i think they're wrong#this absolutely did happen and she's been obsessing over how vindicated it made her feel enough to WRITE AN ARTICLE ABOUT IT#because she MISHEARD SOMEONE IN A CASUAL CONVERSATION#i lay out my reasoning thusly: if you were INVENTING a scary trans woman in bathroom story out of nothing. why would it be this?#why would you go with 'we had a banal conversation until she said a sentence that makes no sense and that no human has ever uttered#but which does coincidentally sounds almost exactly like a mishearing of a very NORMAL thing to say in the circumstances#then she left and nothing else occurred'#if you were going to INVENT a story you would probably make it MAKE SENSE or SOUND THREATENING#i truly believe this is a very authentically told account of what she thinks happened#because who would. by means other than mishearing. think 'I'm going to wipe my hands on my penis' makes any sense at all.#a) 'I'm going to dry my hands on my genitals' says the presumably fully clothed woman#b) who then proceeds to leave without doing anything threatening#c) WHO SAYS PENIS THREATENINGLY? sorry it's writing out 'penis' repeatedly that made this jump out to me but like. who says that?#you might hear someone talk casually about their dick or cock but i stg it's only doctors and TERFs who casually use the word penis much#it's so. clinically descriptive. it's a weird use of language. but it IS. something you could plausibly mishear from 'pants' or 'trousers'
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novelconcepts · 2 years
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The defintion of hell is knowing a show is incredibly well-received in its first season, but if people don’t become machines churning out tweets, content, and rewatching 24/7, there’s no likelihood it’ll get a chance to tell its whole story. This shit is madness. Shows in different genres shouldn’t have to pit-battle for dominance. First seasons are MEANT to be baselines establishing worlds and characters, not complete storylines. The idea that this golden age of television has turned into “get it done in one or get out” is revolting.
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sharptoothed-gaze · 19 days
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Okay yall, so I know a few people that have asked about the online accounts of some ex-admins, and I’ve kept up with quite a few. So here is a list of some of the names I know!
Here are some of the ex-admins that are Twitch streamers:
CherryBee_ (Empanada)
Pancks_ (Agent 18 / Xaninho)
Lionheartedmuse (a writer)
Arteamissing (Ramon)
Dandelionryans (Sunny)
LittleMissSunMin (Chayanne)
HarumiVT (Leo Bonita)
Elkcrown (head writer) (Not sure how much he streams, but I saw him on Shelter earlier)
MrPastelitoo_ (game dev)
AMZ3T (Bobby)
Aaaand here are some non-streamers’ Twitters:
Lumi_Pomme (Pomme)
Dapper_no (Dapper)
sunkissedAmaaa (Lullah)
linastubborn (Pepito)
CleoOnline_ (Chunsik)
That’s what I know for now! Go ahead and comment if you have any more suggestions that should be added.
Also! Please know that these people are not just the characters they played or the jobs they once did for the server! Be normal when talking to them or following their future projects <3
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esteljune · 2 months
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Imagine being on the couch with Soap, his body entrusted to you without hesitation.
His crested head resting against your sternum, his broad back pressed against your stomach as the boy's calloused hands cling to your thighs.
Despite being together for a while, Johnny is still nervous to talk to you about his work because there's not much he can tell you, and he's afraid that even that little bit might push you away from him.
He doesn't doubt his own conviction, but he knows it's a choice that doesn't belong to you. He manages to spit out some information about his explosives training, his sniper training, and why they call him Soap.
When he realizes that you don't care whether he's Johnny or Soap, but that he'll always be safe with you, he can't hold back his tongue. He feels a million things, some he's never felt before, others he wouldn't even know how to name.
"Would ye believe me if I told ye I've never been as nervous in front of a bomb as I am now talking about my work tae ye?" he confesses impulsively.
"Yes. Your heart is racing, Johnny." you smile tapping your index finger on his left chest.
"Ah... Away n' bile yer heid." he curses under his breath, because it's true.
He manages to control his breathing and heartbeat long enough to put a bullet in someone's head from dozens of meters away, but he can't control himself in front of a simple conversation with you.
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aregebidan · 2 years
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i love you goncharov mythos, i love you innate human urge to make things up, i love you tumblr blorbos created By tumblr, i love you meta insight into current internet attitudes toward character archetypes that's inherent to this process of creation, i love you opportunity of witnessing yet another major event for very online people, and most of all i love you katya
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becca-e-barnes · 3 months
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Since it seems everyone is as horny as I am about men cumming quickly, let’s keep talking about it 🤤
The very second your lips touch Bucky’s, you feel how eager he is already. His lips are warm and plump and slick and insistent, gliding against your own with a hunger you can only hope to match.
His hands trail over your body, touching you with an urgency you’re very much enjoying. His fingertips dig in a little, making you feel like he craves you and it’s entirely dizzying.
“This isn’t fair. You get me so worked up.” He’s practically panting through kisses to your neck, nipping and biting his way to your breasts, encased in the pretty lace he picked out for you.
The thick outline of his cock is more than distracting and even in the dim bedroom light, you notice the sheen of precum that has soaked through his thin underwear.
He kisses your breasts tenderly, not removing your bra just yet. He wants to enjoy it; he wants to be able to call on the memory whenever he needs it.
“Fucking perfect.” He moans, letting his hand trail between your thighs, finding you wetter than he could’ve dreamed.
“Not yet.” You tease, removing his hand and sinking to your knees in front of him, pulling his underwear down his toned legs. His hard length bobs in front of your face, the tip wet with his own arousal and your mouth waters at the thought.
“Prove you can handle my pussy. Show me you deserve it.” Your hand wraps around the base of his cock while your tongue flicks against the tip, savouring the taste of him.
You pump your hand in time with your mouth, pausing every now and again to take as much of him as you can.
Your soft moans are nothing compared to his.
Fuck, he’s lost in the feeling of your warm, wet, sinful mouth and the thought of you swallowing his load.
“Babe please, slow down.” You hear him moan and it makes slowing down the last thing on your mind.
“Don’t you dare.” You take just a second to breathe before you’re back to stroking and sucking his faster than before. He’s not going to last. He knows it. So do you. That’s exactly what you want.
“Fuck, I’m gonna cum.” He groans, desperately trying not to but that’s hard when he’s watching your pretty face and focusing on the way your lips look wrapped around his dick.
It’s a toss up. In your mouth or over your face? It hardly matters when you have him exactly where you want him.
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fivepibbles · 10 months
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they have him pinned, but at least they're warm!
fanart for @tsunochizu 's backwards through the snow fic! im SO normal about this story (still emotionally recovering from chapter 15) i love this fic so much <3
they are the STINKIEST of family...
(for those who haven't read this fic, first of all, go read it now. but also pebbles is mostly ok. kinda. hes just dirty and stinky... amongst other things)
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egoarc4de · 8 months
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if it stops i'm having an unshakable nightmare
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sergle · 8 months
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I'm thinking abt that pretty fall leaves embroidery pattern post and about how like... it is categorically a repost, it's a reupload. right? a thing that is generally disliked. but because it's credited, it's genuinely boosting the artist in question. and it could ALWAYS be like this. reposting content could ALWAYS be a symbiotic relationship, but because sourcing back to the original creator of something is so uncommon, it's just easier to ask people not to repost it at all. and people still don't understand the difference. or they'll go to the effort of cropping out usernames/signatures to repost something, which is More Effort than literally crediting the creator of something you liked enough to want to repost. Like. I literally don't actually care if my own shit gets reposted, you have to understand. I just don't want it STOLEN. But "do not repost" is easier to write on my art than "you can repost this, but don't alter the image/remove my signature, don't you dare write 'credit goes to the artist' because that is not credit, please link back to my original post or someplace that you can actually find me. please use an actual link/url instead of writing a non-clickable link of my username, because making it text instead of a clickable link cuts the number of people who will go to the effort of visiting my own page in Half." All those aggregate themed accounts, those fuckin annoying as hell instagrams and facebook groups that are like "body positive art we love wamen 💕 hashtag feminism" and then MASS-STEAL plus sized art created by women, if pages like these that always go and steal my older self-portraits and other works... If they just put a link to my prints of those pieces in the text of those posts, or, fuck, my commission info page? I would literally be living on the moon right now. I would have a house on the moon
#there is actually nothing morally wrong with running an account that just reuploads ppl's artwork or their jokes or their cosplays#if you just put a VISIBLE LINK in the description of your post with proper credit then it would be beneficial for everyone#because you can get your little clout or whatever it is you want by putting a bunch of same-category content on a page#but nobody's getting fucked over because if your post blows up then people just get FUNNELED to the source#because it's placed so plainly where everyone can see it#and yeah it's better to retweet or reblog but#on the rare occasion that I see my shit reuploaded on tumblr WHICH IS WEIRD BC I MAKE MY OWN POSTS HERE but anyway#someone making their own post where they upload my stuff. and it's always the floral self portraits so let's say it's a post with all those#if I scroll to the bottom and it says like. Artwork by Serglesinner on Twitter <-- clickable link [Sergle's Prints] <-- clickable link#to my etsy#I'm like oh okay and all the anger leaves my body and I'm like ah I see. and I toss the rock aside#like oh okay so you actually care that a person made these pieces. Instead of posting the caption ''women <3'' or smth#like you've GOTTA die if you do that. but if you just link back#or if you go to the effort of writing like a description with a BLURB? like it's a damn museum. like a light paragraph of info#about what the art is and who made it and their links#I am literally sucking you in a strange and peculiar manner. that is extremely helpful#and maybe other artists don't want this AT ALL and they'd rather people not reupload even if it is credited#but I feeeeeeeeel. like 99% of the time this would solve the issue#reposters could genuinely be helping ppl. sometimes the repost gets more traction than the real thing#as long as it credits the creator then that's an okay thing to happen!#that can land somebody a sale! a commission order! a new fan! A JOB#A JOB!!!!!!!!!!#sergle.txt#I didn't write this eloquently AT ALL what the fuck ever barkbarkbarkbark
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heartorbit · 1 month
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the star you've longed for
#PLEASE WATCH REVUE STARLIGHT!!!!!!💥💥💥💥💥#project sekai#revue starlight#pjsk#emu otori#nene kusanagi#emunene#prsk#proseka#yuri win. i make my fav pairing fight tothe death#HAPPY EMUNENE WEEK LOOOOOL#Can i be hinestni think this sucks it took way too long cause i forgot how to draw for a week#im seeing demons and stuff. i feel more normal now. Also you may recall emu has a big hammer for revstar#thats the bottom of it the gem thing all the weapons have hers is sharp#i remember seeing meta post abt how mahiru has a blunt weapon because she never actually aimed for the lead role#rather she only wanted to be by karen's side. so her weapon wasnt capable of cutting anything in the first place#Fastforward to the movie and well LOLLLLL#though i think its funny in the movie her mace is still mostly used for i timidation againstbhikari.. bc again shes not winning for a lead#revue starlight youre neat. maybe i like revstar.#<- has been insane for 4+ years#Needed their pose to be smth where nenes weapon isnt visible because I DONT KNOW WHAT WEAPON TO GIVE HER. OOMFS HELP. I NEED A NENE WEAPON.#i thought some sort of polearm/spear/halberd etc something with range but that can be ambitious#but i feel like smth with that much footwork needed doesnt suit her.. And she cant hsve a sniper i dont think thatwould fucking work#aruru gets pistols in the revue but aruru also is Ummm well shes uhhh. [screaming] [car crash]#throwing knives would be funny wouldnt it. Put that gamer aim to use#idk if the emunene week tag is on here but i'll donit anyways#emuneneweek2024#i remembered to switch which account this pists to for the first time in like 3 pists. so you get to see all my tags this time#rather than accidentally posting it to the wrong account and having to dekete and repost andngoing IM NOT WRITING ALL THAT AGAIN.
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cuubism · 7 months
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I've written something very silly. Dating apps, texting fic, crack, smut. desire messing with dream. onlyfans creator hob. trans dream. Enjoy.
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U up?
The notification from an unfamiliar app stared up at Dream from his locked phone screen. He frowned, perplexed. Nobody texted him. Certainly not with such vernacular.
Dream opened the notification. It pulled up the messaging page of a dating app, one he himself had certainly not installed—
Desire. He grit his teeth. Unfortunately, they weren’t nearby to receive his ire.
Dream looked again at U up? on the message interface. He clicked on the profile of the man who’d sent it, a “Kyle” who would not have looked out of place shotgunning a beer at a rager. Of course, Desire had not only gone to great lengths to establish him on this insipid app, but had also spent time matching him with the exact opposite of his type, presumably to cause him never-ending grief and annoyance. As usual.
Dream should probably have just deleted the app. Instead he responded, For?
What he received in response, a few minutes later, was a poorly-lit photograph of Kyle’s penis. Dream pinched his nose between thumb and forefinger with a sigh. He should have known.
I have seen better, he replied, and closed out of the app.
He had been back at his writing for ten minutes or so when his phone buzzed again. He checked the notification.
Brad: you could be MY good boy, kitty cat 😽
Dream gagged, but opened the man’s profile out of perilous, morbid curiosity.
Brad, 28, Hedge Fund Manager, “Looking for something casual on the DL”, likes golf and cryptocurrency— oh, dear. Somehow, Dream doubted this Brad truly wanted Dream to become a part of his life. Nor did Dream want to be his ‘kitty cat’.
He was going to have words with Desire.
You strike me as a man who brings choking into the bedroom without knowing what a safe word is, he wrote. Am I accurate?
I can choke you if you want, baby 😜, wrote Brad. Which may as well have been a yes.
Dream did not think that Brad was the person he wanted that from. Not to mention that his utter lack of kink safety knowledge would probably land Dream in hospital, and there were more interesting ways for that to happen than mediocre sex in a finance associate’s penthouse.
I would prefer to keep my brain cells, he wrote, and closed the app.
Over the next few days, Dream fielded many strange, annoying, and obscene messages from people on this app. He certainly had not “swiped right” on anybody himself, so he could only assumed Desire had done so on his behalf and had now left him to suffer the consequences of “matching.” By all rights, he should have just deleted the app off his phone. But Dream rarely communicated with anyone, certainly not strangers, and there was something a little bit entertaining about seeing what kind of drivel was being thrown his way. Was this how people attempted to court over the internet? Or perhaps Desire had merely “matched” him with the dregs of humanity.
By the end of the week, Dream had received seven “dick pics”, four offers to share one or more of his body parts in exchange for cash, and a request to become a seventy-five year-old man’s “sugar baby.” He was uncertain precisely what that entailed, but he was fairly certain he would not like it.
He had also received a text from Desire that read, enjoying yourself? ;) to which he did not respond.
His meager entertainment expended, Dream was on the verge of finally deleting the app when he received a different message:
Hob: Do you think it’s possible to cheat death by force of will, or are you too busy craving its sweet release to consider it?
Dream frowned, perplexed by the specificity of the message. Finally it occurred to him to actually look at the profile Desire had made. He swiped over to said screen, and sighed in aggravation.
Desire had, at least, chosen flattering photos of him. He supposed if the goal was to have Dream sexually harassed over the internet, this would have been a requirement. The photos definitely suggested something other than “serious, committed relationship”, but they weren’t terrible, at least.
As for the text—well, Dream finally understood where some of the more unhinged messages he had received had come from. He read through the given prompts, and Desire’s answers to them:
Dating me is like: You found a stray cat and brought it home and fed it and you were going to take it to the animal shelter but now it won't leave. It’s pretty cute if a bit mangy but it won’t stop biting your hand and mewing pathetically. The sex is pretty good tho.
“Pretty good.” Desire had written all this and couldn’t even manage to make Dream sound like a satisfying hookup. Typical.
He read on:
I’ll fall for you if: You tell me I’m a good boy 😳
Things were falling into place in Dream’s mind now.
Hob’s strange message seemed to arise from the main part of Dream’s profile, where Desire had listed his “religion” as “worshipping l’appel du vide.” An interesting element for this “Hob” to focus on. Dream did not think it was typical for messages on these apps to open with a discussion of death.
He switched back over to the messaging page of the app, and replied: I consider death often. As to your query, it depends: are you thinking of death as an entity one could escape, or a force like gravity? Or perhaps a place one must go?
Hmm, Hob responded, good question. I think it’s like a state. But a state of nothingness. See, if I thought it was a *place*, might be willing to go, see something new and all. But what’s the point of nothingness?
Nothingness is its own satisfaction, wrote Dream. It seemed peaceful, to him. Quiet. The lack of need for satisfaction in the first place.
But you won’t be there, so you won’t get to experience it, said Hob.
Precisely.
Huh. The void really is calling to you. You don’t like experience, then?
Is that innuendo? Dream asked.
Could be. If it is, do I get to be part of the toxic codependent relationship that ends horribly for everyone?
Another reference to Desire’s profile choices. What Dream was apparently “looking for in a relationship.”
That depends on the quality of your experience, he wrote.
I’ve received good reviews, said Hob.
You’ve yet to call me “kitten,” so I suppose I must concur on that front, replied Dream.
You started that one, little stray cat, said Hob.
Technically Desire had started it, but Dream had to grudgingly admit that his profile did invite such comments.
Having a smashing time in your dm’s, then? Hob continued.
I have received several unsolicited pictures of genitalia, wrote Dream.
Oh yeah? said Hob. Anything good?
Random strangers’ genitals did not interest Dream. There was a reason he did not watch porn. Mediocre at best, Dream said.
There was a long pause, and Dream hastily added, Do not send me a picture of your dick as comparison.
My dick is already all over the internet, you don’t need to get it here 😛, said Hob.
Dream blinked several times at his phone screen, as if to clear away a fog before a message that might make more sense.
What, he wrote.
Before Hob could reply, it occurred to Dream that perhaps he should actually look at Hob’s own profile. He had gotten too caught up in the strange conversation to remember to do so.
He opened it and— froze.
Dream had already deduced that Desire had intentionally matched him with whoever they thought Dream would be least interested in. He could see why they had thought the same of Hob, primarily because he was very different from Dream. In the past, Dream had tended to have flings with people who were rather like him, in some respects. “Tortured artists,” Death would say.
This was not Hob. For one, unlike Dream’s pouty and morose profile photo, Hob was actually smiling in the first picture on his page. And what a smile.
He was handsome, too. At least, Dream thought so. Handsome in a homey, comfortable way, the type of handsome that suggested really good hugs, and coffee in the mornings, and someone to come home to. Dream scrolled through more photos, and caught the spark of mischief in his eyes that belied his easy nature. This best matched the way Hob spoke in his messages, he thought.
It was not so much that Hob was his usual type, and more that Desire had unintentionally uncovered a type Dream had not known he had. He swallowed hard. Scrolled back up to read the details of Hob’s bio, in search of answers to the strangeness of Hob’s response.
Ah. His profession was listed as “OnlyFans creator.” That would explain it. He supposed he could track down Hob’s profile on said app. Dream was historically not very interested in porn, however. But he was finding himself interested in Hob.
He moved back to the messaging page, and wrote, before Hob could question why Dream was confused about information that was clearly stated in his profile, Ah. I see. I’m afraid I don’t watch porn.
That a moral stance? Bcuz I get enough of that already, trust me.
Personal taste, said Dream.
Prefer to get it in person, eh? said Hob.
Yes.
You’d do numbers on OnlyFans just fyi, Hob wrote. If u ever wanted more cash. Or does Poetry & Malaise pay better than I thought?
Dream’s “career,” according to Desire.
He supposed Hob's comment was flattering, in a way. Is that your own bias, Hob? Or your considered opinion as a professional?
Both ;), said Hob.
If that is your situation, then why are you on this app, dare I ask? Most people I have encountered seem to just be interested in sex but I doubt you are suffering from a dearth of it.
What, porn stars can’t want to get married? :(
Dream could imagine his pout. It was surprisingly endearing.
THAT is why you are here?
Sure, be judgmental about it, mister “I want to get consumed.” Or was that about vore and I misread it as metaphorical?
Dream spluttered, though Hob was not physically present to see it. Indeed, Desire had written that Dream wanted “someone he could consume and be consumed by in turn,” which was surprisingly accurate considering its intention had been to mess with him.
It is not VORE, he wrote. Then followed it up with, I have frequently been accused of being intense, possessive, and overbearing.
Well then we have that in common, Hob replied. By the way, sex for work is not the same as sex with someone you really care about. Or would you feel emotionally fulfilled after fucking your colleagues?
I don’t have colleagues, said Dream.
Right, right. Poetry and malaise.
And have you achieved much emotionally fulfilling sex from this app?
No :(, said Hob.
You are too handsome for that to be the case, wrote Dream, and realized what he had said a moment after he’d hit send.
He panicked internally until Hob replied, And here I thought I was just annoying you 🥰.
I might be having a crisis over your photos myself, Hob added, but let’s not discuss it or I’ll embarrass myself.
We could discuss it in a different venue, Dream wrote, heart in his throat. I am interested also in hearing your plans to thwart death. Perhaps over drinks?
Thought you’d never ask :)
So they set a time.
--
Drinks turned quickly into tumbling into Hob’s flat turned quickly into Hob pushing Dream up against the door and kissing him senseless turned quickly into falling into Hob’s bed. Dream was feeling quite happy about his decision to go on a date with this weird, death-obsessed OnlyFans creator. He had been right about Hob giving good hugs, he had learned that when Hob had greeted him at the bar. He had also learned that Hob really knew how to use his tongue.
“Fuck, Dream,” Hob said, looking up at him, lips wet. He had his hands wrapped around Dream’s thighs and his face between Dream’s legs, and yes, Dream was feeling very satisfied with his decision, indeed. He might even have to send Desire a gift basket. “You taste so good.”
“Your mouth is ungodly,” said Dream, tipping his head back against the pillow with a groan as Hob continued teasing him with that mouth, swiping his tongue through Dream’s folds and sucking on his clit.
“Converted you to a new religion? You’re done with the void, then?”
Dream twisted his hands in Hob’s hair, holding on tight, thighs trembling, heartbeat racing in his throat. “Perhaps.”
“Is Dream your real name, by the way?” Hob asked, pushing one finger into Dream, and then quickly two, as Dream moaned and clenched down on him. “I kind of thought it was fake.”
“No,” said Dream, though it came out as another moan. “It is real.”
“Fascinating.” And he went back to torturing Dream with his mouth, fucking him deep on his fingers, until Dream was squirming and writhing under him, trying to get away from Hob’s relentlessness even as he wanted to throw himself into its fire. He felt hot, feverish, taut all over, Hob’s hands were so good, and his mouth—
“Hob,” he whined, “please.”
Hob paused, looked up at him, lips and nose wet with Dream’s fluids. Then grinned cheekily. “Yes, kitten?”
And why did something that had sounded so revolting coming from anonymous strangers only make Dream laugh when Hob said it? He laughed, a horrible, choking laugh, and Hob laughed too, incredulously. Dream could not remember ever laughing during sex, it had always been a torrid and serious affair. But Hob was so charming and handsome and Dream wanted to kiss him.
“Come,” he commanded, drawing Hob up towards him by his hair, and Hob went, and Dream brought their lips together. Hob’s mouth was slick and tasted of Dream. It was heady.
Dream wrapped a leg around his waist and pulled him closer until their bodies were pressed together, and Hob ground his cock between Dream’s legs, between his folds and against his clit. He didn’t try to actually fuck Dream, though, which Dream figured was Hob’s professional good sense considering they hadn’t discussed birth control or anything in that vein in their haste. He imagined what might have happened if he had instead gone home with Brad of the un-negotiated choking kink, and laughed despite himself.
“What are you laughing at?” asked Hob, lifting his head to look at him. He really was so appealing, with his dark eyes, hair falling long over his forehead, his voice that was much more honey-warm than Dream could have imagined over text.
“I was thinking of the catastrophe that would have resulted had I slept with one of the questionable individuals I’ve encountered on that app, and my good fortune in finding you instead.”
Hob smiled, and kissed him, a proper first date type kiss, sweet and kind. Then he said, dragging his hand through Dream’s hair, tugging on it, “Don’t think about anyone else.” He kissed Dream’s jaw, then down his neck, nipping at his skin.
Dream dug his nails into Hob’s back, into his strong shoulders as Hob ground against him. He wished Hob was fucking him. His cock felt so good even just moving between Dream’s legs, and the weight of his body over Dream’s was so grounding. Next time, maybe.
He shivered as Hob moved faster over him, claimed his mouth with a hard kiss. “Come on me,” Dream urged, pulling Hob in tighter again with his leg wrapped around his waist. He reached between them and got his hand around Hob, and Hob groaned.
“Dream—”
Dream pulled him off in time with Hob’s own thrusts, and soon felt Hob’s hips stuttering, his grip tightening in Dream’s hair. He came over Dream’s hand and stomach, breathing hard against Dream’s throat. But he didn’t pause very long to recover himself, instead slipping three fingers back into Dream, making Dream arch against him with a shout.
“Hob!”
Hob worked him mercilessly until Dream was clenching around him with a gasp, body shaking as his orgasm ramped back up and hit him, fast and hard. Hob grinned against his throat as Dream panted, then gently pulled his fingers free and raised his head to look Dream in the eye as he brought them to his mouth and sucked them clean of Dream’s spend. Fucking. Hell. And this man couldn’t find someone to marry him?
Hob kissed him again, and again it was sweet, and firm, like his hugs. Dream kissed him back, petting Hob’s hair. Pleased with the position he’d found himself in. Pleased with Hob.
“Good?” Hob asked, stroking a hand up and down his side.
“Very,” Dream sighed.
“Good,” said Hob. “For me, too.”
He kissed Dream’s cheek, and then went and got a soft wet cloth to clean them both up, and even brought Dream a glass of water. Truly Dream’s good fortune was unparalleled on this day.
Hob slipped back into bed beside him, and Dream laid on his side, head pillowed on his arm, gazing at him. Tucked an errant strand of Hob’s hair behind his ear. Ran his fingers over the stubble on Hob’s cheek. He really was quite handsome, especially mussed from sex, in the low bedroom light. Perhaps Dream was going to have to find his OnlyFans. Just so he could… take this home with him.
“You really are even prettier in person,” Hob murmured, studying him. “Although I don’t think the rest of your profile was really doing you justice.”
“That is because my sibling initially created it to annoy me,” Dream admitted. “However, I think I am the one who’s come out on top in the end.”
“That does explain some things,” Hob said with a chuckle. He took Dream’s hand and kissed his fingertips, met his eyes again. “I promise I won’t break your heart. If you stay.”
My BFF’s take on why you should date me, Desire’s profile fills had read: With luck you can be the next person to break his heart <3
Once again, it had not been entirely inaccurate. But perhaps it would be this time.
“I think I am inclined to,” he said quietly, and Hob smiled, that warm, endearing smile.
So Dream did stay that night, cuddled up in Hob’s arms. Feeling all warm inside, even when Hob had fallen asleep, and Dream was still awake, lying beside him. He often had a hard time sleeping, but he didn’t mind so much, right now. Hob was pleasant to cuddle up to, even if Dream couldn’t sleep. Hob was pleasant all around, in fact. Dream tended to fall fast and hard and he could already feel it hovering over him like a cresting wave. Fortunately, Hob didn’t seem inclined to be any more casual about him than Dream was feeling about him.
Dream thought he could get used to this.
With Hob’s arm still wrapped around his waist, Dream swiped his phone off the nightstand and opened his text thread with Desire, which still had enjoying yourself? ;) as the last message, as yet not responded to.
Having made Desire wait for several days already, Dream wrote, with a little smile, I think I am going to get married, and turned off his phone.
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bluerosefox · 6 months
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Curiosity and Puzzle Boxes
It was tiny Tim's first time being 'old' enough to be left home alone without a babysitter, and even though he KNOWS he shouldn't mess or play with some of the things his parents sent home from their digs, he's still a very curious child.
Yeah, maybe playing and later solving that old puzzle box that apparently summoned a powerful eldritch being from a different realm and binded them together until his own death might not have been the brightest thing Tim has done... but at least he's not alone now!
Meanwhile, Danny takes one look at the kid who not only summoned him but solved the puzzle box and sighed to himself, this was the last time he took Tuckers advice on how to escape the dumb Ghost King summonings by creating a 'prove yourself worthy' loophole/puzzle.
Also.. where the heck are your parents kid?!?!?
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