#this is a shitpost but I'm curious about what other people think

[fractiflos]

You know, seeing young Yoichi and AFO raises questions. And not the serious ones that I should be analyzing, no. Instead, I spend all my time wondering about their hair.

Why is AFO's hair so short and Yoichi's so long and pretty? Was he really born with naturally great hair?

I mean I guess it's probably different hair growth rates and the fact that they're probably fraternal twins but... What street orphan has such incredible hair? Did AFO steal some hair care products for his twin or something?

#yoichi shigaraki #all for one #mha 407 #mha manga spoilers #mha shitpost #this is a shitpost but I'm curious about what other people think

[cuubism]

based on THIS shitpost. nsft below the cut. inexplicably 7k.

--

Dream had promised Hob, since reuniting, since agreeing to see each other more often, that he would let Hob introduce him properly to human experiences. "It'll do you good," Hob had said. Dream thinks Death would agree with this also. He is now wondering, however, if this had been folly.

"I think I've given you the general rundown now," Hob says, leaning back in his chair, swirling his bottle of beer—mostly empty—idly in one hand. "The highlights. We'll be here for ages if you want to hear all of it."

Dream is surprised to realize he is curious to hear the stories of all of Hob's lovers. But he does not feel it is quite appropriate to press, no matter how open Hob has been in speaking of it. Dream is most interested, after all, in people Hob has loved, not just those he's had carnal relations with—stories of love are of much more interest to him than stories simply of desire, and Hob has already relayed these stories to him, each a glimmering jewel on the long chain of his life.

Each sticks in Dream's mind now, glittering in his peripheral vision. He cannot tell precisely what they want of him—the corners of his being are blurred, his thoughts wavering, at points clear and ringing and at others indistinct. A consequence of allowing alcohol to affect him, at Hob's bidding. It is... pleasant. Loose. Warm. Though Dream thinks, anywhere outside of Hob's flat, it would feel disconcerting instead.

It's this folly in allowing Hob to ply him with wine, perhaps, that has him saying, "Do you wish to hear of my own?"

Hob's expression sharpens. He is, perhaps, less drunk than Dream is, despite being on his fourth beer, while Dream has only had— ah. That bottle of wine is three-quarters empty. Hmm. "You mean, you want to talk about it?"

"I believe it is customary for friendship to involve a mutual sharing of stories?"

"Sure, if you want to." Hob's gaze on him is intent, curious, but still fond, always fond. "Usually you're like this." He draws his fingers across his lips in a zipping motion. "So of course I'm curious."

"Am I so reticent?" Hob is right, though. Dream can acknowledge it. He would not usually care to speak of these things. He could blame the wine, today. But.

Hob laughs. "Took me six hundred thirty-three years to get a name. You are the king of reticence." He dips his head as if bowing to this "king." "I would be honored to hear your stories, my friend."

Dream tucks his nose into his glass. He should perhaps not drink any more, but the smell is still pleasant, rich and sharp. "They are not so happy."

"Still. If you want to tell."

Dream is not like Hob. He does not have casual dalliances. Each collision was as bright as a falling star. He doesn't know if he has the strength, now, to relay all that terrible history.

Instead, he shares with Hob the early days of burning. Each of those bright, glowing moments. And glosses over the fall.

He thinks Hob sees it, though. He considers him from under his brows as Dream speaks, understanding in his eyes. Doesn't ask him about it, perhaps sensing that Dream does not have the wherewithal for telling and asking in the same evening. "Thank you," he finally says.

"Why?"

"For sharing."

Dream looks back down at his glass. It's empty again. Perhaps that is for the best. It is not often that he... shares. Particularly about this. But Hob is generous in not prying. In wanting to listen, for the simple sake of, as far as Dream can tell, understanding Dream.

When he looks up again, Hob is tapping the mouth of his beer bottle against his lips in thought. "Can I ask you something? It'll probably be utter silliness to you, though. Being this... beyond human entity that you are."

Dream's shoulders tense where they'd gone relaxed with drink and Hob's company. "Go ahead."

"Were all of your lovers women?"

And Dream relaxes again. Ah. This is just... factual. Not... digging in to his many relational failures. "I suppose. Yes."

"Is that by design, or...?"

Dream frowns. "I do not... understand."

"Well, since we've established that I'm an indiscriminate slut—" always so crude, but something about the click of Hob's tongue makes Dream shift uncomfortably in his seat on the couch— “I was wondering whether you were the same way." Then he winces. "Not the slut part. The indiscriminate part."

"Do you mean to ask if I care about the gender or sex of my lovers?"

"Yep. Knew I should have just been straightforward with you."

Dream thinks about it. He has never made a pattern of his relationships, the way humans do. He simply... does what his foolhardy heart commands. Usually with poor results. "I suppose I do not. Care, that is. But. My lovers have been women, yes."

Hob tilts his head. There's a new gleam in his eyes, now. He goes to finish his beer, but it’s empty. Dream watches the drag of his lips over the mouth of the bottle.

"Does that surprise you, Hob Gadling?" he asks. "That my amorous pursuits have been so much narrower than yours?"

"Mmm. Little bit? It's just, even if I hadn’t—how can I put it politely—fucked my way across half of London already by the time we met, I can't imagine making it six hundred years without ever at least experimenting?" He grins. "I could be straight as a nail and curiosity alone would've got me in some bloke's bed at least once. Hmm. Maybe three times just to be sure."

"It is good that you cannot die, for I believe curiosity would have sounded your death knell twenty times over by now."

Hob raises his bottle in Dream's direction. "True, that." Then he leans forward on his knees, eyes bright with, of course, curiosity. "But weren't you ever curious?"

"I contain the collective memory," Dream reminds him. "All fantasies. And dreams. If I need to understand an experience, I can simply consult that breadth of knowledge. I do not need to 'wind up in some bloke's bed.'"

Hob's leaning so far forward now he might come toppling off his chair. "But do you wanna?"

Dream frowns. "I do not..."

"Do you want to experience it yourself, though?" Hob repeats. "Cuz I could watch porn—" Dream wrinkles his nose at this crude analogy for his relationship to his dreams, but the offense is swiftly banished as Hob continues— “but that's not the same as—” his hand lands on Dream's wrist, fingertips pressed to where he would have a pulse— "that."

Dream freezes. Under Hob's fingers, his heart jumps once, quick as a mouse.

"I've no doubt you understand it, Dream," continues Hob, and perhaps he had drunk less than Dream had thought, for he seems very lucid now, "but that's not the same as being there."

Dream fixates on where they are touching. His skin feels very hot, at that point. "And what. Is being there like?"

Hob's fingers slip a little higher, just under the sleeve of his coat. He is still wearing his coat, yes, why is that? He feels very warm. "Could find out?"

"Are you suggesting I should find some man to bed me?"

"Some man," Hob repeats, jaw working. His gaze is hovering somewhere around Dream's collar. "Some man who knows what he's doing, yeah."

"And..." an echo of a breath is frozen in Dream's lungs. Some instinct saying, be still. A pulse at his elbow, in his thigh, at his throat. Hob still has his wrist pinned. "Do you know what you are doing, Hob Gadling?"

"Never in my life," says Hob, and leans in and kisses him.

He has to get out of his chair to do it. Has to lean down over Dream, taking Dream's cheek in his hand. Has to tip Dream's head back, and sweep his tongue into his mouth from above, or perhaps Dream only tells himself that he has to rather than acknowledge that it is Dream himself baring his throat, opening his mouth to Hob's.

If he wished to know what it was like to be kissed by a man, now he knows: strong and lingering and hungry. Or perhaps that is just Hob Gadling. Hob's stubble brushes his cheeks. He can smell Hob's cologne, rich and sweet like whiskey. He wraps a hand around the back of Hob's neck so he can't pull away far.

Hob's eyes are heavy-lidded when he looks at him. Dream touches his own lips, and Hob follows the movement. "I'm not certain I understand," Dream says. "This is not enough data to make a determination."

"Definitely not," says Hob, and kisses him again, pushing him into the back of the couch. The strength of his hands sends fire racing all the way up Dream's spine, curling around his neck, burning in the tips of his ears. He bites experimentally at Hob's lower lip, and Hob groans low in his throat.

"We're not—" Hob pulls away, lips shiny and wet, "we're not doing this here. Come on."

He stands upright again, and Dream will deny to the end of the universe the dissatisfied sound he makes when Hob's warmth leaves him. Hob smiles, soft and fond now, and takes his hand. "Come on, love."

Love.

Some man, Dream thinks, as he lets Hob pull him up. Join some man in bed. As he follows Hob down the hall to his bedroom. For curiosity's sake. As Hob kneels to help pull off his boots. Just to understand. As Hob divests him of his coat.

Experimental.

"You're so buttoned up." Hob smoothes his hands over Dream's shoulders, his bare arms under his t-shirt. "Let me know if it's too much, okay?"

"Yes." Too much, yes, it is too much, to see Hob look at him like that, with care and with hunger, for Hob to touch him gently, it makes his skin prickle, his cheeks heat, his throat terribly dry. It is too much; he will not tell Hob to stop.

I want to understand, Dream thinks. I want—

Hob smiles, the corners of his eyes crinkling. "Come on, then."

Hob is already barefoot, being less guarded than Dream, and he leads Dream up onto the bed. Dream follows, chasing his hands, and Hob does not deprive him. He leans against the headboard and lets Dream settle in his lap, immediately framing his face again between his palms. For the sake of learning, Dream pushes all the dreams of this aside, so that it is just him and Hob. New. Theirs.

He looks into Hob's eyes, very close now, and he feels light, floaty, good. Perhaps the wine was a bad idea. Perhaps it was right.

"What d'you want, darling?" Hob asks. Brushes his lips to the corner of Dream's mouth. "Tell me. This is for you, after all."

Yes. For Dream. A scientific exercise, he must remember. It will help him... understand. It will help him create more vivid dreams. That is all.

He can feel Hob's growing erection pressing against him. His own jeans growing tight. "I would like. The full experience."

Hob laughs, but it's a friendly laugh, not at his expense. Dream can recognize that, now. "There's no full experience. Sex counts as sex if you say it does. But if you're trying to say penetration, we can do that."

Dream shivers at the word penetration, sitting so matter-of-factly on Hob Gadling's tongue. "Yes. I believe that is what I meant."

"Alright." Hob may be matter-of-fact, but he does not sound unaffected. His voice has gone rough, his eyes dark, a flush along his cheeks. His hands fall from Dream's face to brace his hips, thumbs sweeping under the hem of Dream's shirt to touch his skin.

But he doesn't push Dream down into the mattress. Instead he pulls Dream closer by the hips, saying, "C'mere then," and Dream goes back to his mouth. Sinks into Hob's kiss, and the searing heat of his hands on Dream's hipbones. It's different. It's already different. But he can't yet determine if it's different because Hob is a man, or because he is Hob.

Hob, who has been a friend to him even when he couldn't recognize it. Who wants him to enjoy things. Wants to share with him.

Hob pushes Dream's shirt up over his head. Dream has not been bare in front of someone since his escape, but he doesn't think he minds, when it's Hob. When it means he gets Hob's broad, strong hands on his back, pulling him close, and Hob's lips on his shoulder, the crook of his neck, kissing and leaving marks.

"You know, once upon a time I thought you were above all this," Hob murmurs. He touches Dream's belly, his chest, his neck, holding lightly. "You were so... untouchable. Couldn't imagine you lowering yourself to engage in such—” he bites at Dream's earlobe— “such base activities."

"'Untouchable,' Hob Gadling?" Dream says. Hob's hands are cradling his throat now. Hob catches his point and flexes his fingers; Dream swallows under the grip.

"Always wanted to know," Hob murmurs, "if anyone'd touched you at all."

Not in a very long time, it is true. Dream burns with it, now, everywhere Hob touches him is alight. "What would you have done with an answer?"

"Dared," says Hob. "I expect."

"Always daring," Dream says. Indulges himself and slips his own hands under Hob's shirt, feels out his stomach, his hair, his back, all the strong lines of him. Hob's shoulders are pleasing, and his hips where Dream squeezes with his thighs, and these are not things Dream has thought of much, before. He wants to see more. To feel more. "Daring to be the first man to have me."

"Don't say things like that if you want me to keep my sanity." The words are rough like Dream has reached in and touched him instead of just spoken, and Hob's chest rises and falls heavily under Dream's hands.

"Maybe I don't."

This makes Hob chuckle, and Dream feels the rumble of it through his body. He wishes there was not the barrier of their clothes to dampen it; more than seeing Hob, he wants to feel Hob, his skin is prickling with it, his mouth is tacky and dry with it.

"How do you want me?" he asks, and whatever change Hob hears in his voice has him stiffening up, going serious. Dream doesn't know how he feels about it—he enjoys Hob's ease and laughter, but the intensity is... he feels it like a touch.

"How do you want to be had?" Hob counters, and before Dream can contemplate the myriad possible answers, adds, “Do you want to be? Is that what you meant? Only I would have thought— but then again—”

Dream does not interrogate the rambling path of Hob's assumptions. He says, "I would like to know. What I have not. Personally. Experienced, yes."

Daydreams poke at Dream's awareness as the image flashes through Hob's mind. Dream doesn't touch them, but the awareness of their existence alone has him shifting where he straddles Hob's lap. Hob's cheeks darken, and he says, "Strangest way anyone's ever asked me to fuck them. Yeah, alright. Budge up, love?"

Love. Again. Dream climbs off Hob's lap, kneeling beside him as Hob strips off his own shirt, flinging it somewhere--Dream doesn't see, for he is looking only at Hob. The solidness of him, where Dream often feels made of wind; the warmth of his belly, where Dream touches him, while Dream himself often feels cold. So made of earth, Hob Gadling.

Hob lays a hand on Dream's chest as if to push him down to the bed. No strength behind the touch, but the impression of it. "Need you to tell me if it starts going wrong. I'm serious, Dream."

Despite himself, Dream bristles. “You think me incapable of conveying my displeasure?”

Hob huffs. “I think you’re just prideful enough not to. Just be direct with me. You don’t have to prove anything.”

Perhaps... Hob is not entirely wrong. “…I shall," Dream vows at length. Hob nods, and smiles at him again, that warm smile. Dream can’t help but feel pleased to have made him smile so. Hob pushes, and Dream goes, lies back against the pillows, and Hob kneels between his legs. Hands sliding again to his hips, to the waistband of his jeans. Dream watches with fixation, caught on Hob's fingertips.

Hob has apparently decided he does trust Dream to interrupt if he doesn't like something, for he doesn't ask again before unbuttoning Dream's jeans. But Dream can tell Hob is still paying close attention to his reactions, and it's heady to be attended to so.

He lifts his hips for Hob to pull off his jeans, and then gets to bask in a look he can only interpret as adoring. Hob looks upon him that way, and strokes up and down his thighs, over his hips and belly. Dream's skin jumps at the touch.

"You're so fucking gorgeous," Hob says, sounding wounded by it. "Everyone who sees you must go home wishing you were going with them, I refuse to believe otherwise."

Dream smiles, despite himself. "This may be a particular bias of yours, Hob."

"Yeah, maybe. I'm right, though." He leans down, hovers over Dream, kisses him. Dream pulls him down so their bodies are pressed together. Hob's skin is so warm, his hair softer than expected, the fabric of his jeans a rough counterpoint where it scratches Dream's inner thighs, rubs against his cock lying hard in the crook of his hip. A wealth of sensation. A pleased, wanting sound escapes him, before he can stop it—but Hob catches it, looking delighted to do so, kisses it right out of Dream's mouth. "You've left broken hearts in your wake. Still can't believe this is your first time doing this."

"Revel in that victory if you must."

"No victory," says Hob. "Only privilege."

And he kisses Dream again even as he works a hand between them, takes Dream in his grip. Dream gasps at the touch, breaking the kiss. Hob's hand is warm and rough and very sure, and Dream can't help the way his whole body tenses with that simple touch.

He feels Hob's smile against his cheek. His voice drips with satisfaction. "Are you sensitive?"

Dream does not get a chance to answer. Hob strokes him again, hums as Dream bucks up involuntarily into his grasp.

"Oh, I'm going to make you feel so good," Hob muses, his voice a warm rumble in Dream's ear. "I know I can. You deserve it."

"Hob—"

Hob kisses his own name out of Dream's mouth, a deep, biting kiss, and this confidence, rather than being offensive to Dream's station, is riveting. Dream feels spelled.

"Just let me take care of it," Hob says, and moves away, and Dream groans at the loss of his body heat.

"You will take what you want now?" Dream complains, knowing full well even as he says it that it is nonsense. But having Hob's touch and then losing it is making him insensate; truly, he had not thought he could fall so far. "Is that what this is, Hob Gadling?"

Hob chuckles. "Oh, no." He kisses Dream's sternum, and down along his abdominal muscles. Mouths at Dream's belly, where Dream shifts under him, ticklish and affected, skin jumping, and then Hob noses at the base of his cock, and Dream realizes what he's gotten himself into only right before it comes to light.

"No, Dream," Hob says, lips now brushing the head of his cock, and like that he looks up and meets Dream's eyes. "I serve at your pleasure."

He takes Dream in his mouth, strangling Dream's response before it can even reach his throat. Not that Dream knows what he would have said. It's whited out instantly in the rush of pleasure that is Hob's mouth, and tongue, the generosity of his body, the vision of him between Dream's legs.

He's voiceless as Hob bobs his head, takes Dream deep, laves his tongue over his slit, applies what Dream must concede is his considerably greater experience to breaking Dream's ability to speak entirely. He grasps mindlessly at Hob's hair, it slides soft between his fingers, head tipped back against the pillows and thighs jerking restlessly, and still he knows this is but a precursor to what Hob truly intends for him. What he's... asked for. Folly. What had he been thinking?

Hob lifts his head to look at him, a line of spit dragging from Dream's cock to his lower lip. "Dream, you with me?"

Dream nods. His hand is still in Hob's hair. He pets at Hob's forehead, his temple, and Hob smiles. Like Dream is the one being indulged.

"Good?" he says, and Dream nods again. Hob takes his hand from his hair, kisses his knuckles, and Dream does not think this is how casual experiments are meant to go. He does not know what he is learning, except that Hob's kiss is soft and reverent, and the look on his face even more so.

"Is this," Dream asks quietly, hyperaware of how he's laid out on his back, Hob between his legs, "how you want me?"

Hob releases his hand. Drags a fingertip maddeningly up and down the crook of Dream's thigh as he considers. "Probably be a bit easier for you on your belly, but I don't want to make you feel vulnerable."

Dream is not certain there is a version of this that would not feel vulnerable. That it does not already. "I defer to your better judgment."

"Stay there, then." He moves away, and Dream takes the moment to gather himself. He's not certain he succeeds. He's spinning pleasantly, buzzing with the echo of Hob's touch. He wonders what might happen if he gives up on trying to right himself.

Hob comes back with lubricant, situations himself between Dream's legs again. Runs his hands up and down Dream's thighs and Dream spreads them wider on instinct. Hob swallows hard, Dream watches the harsh bob of his throat. He's still wearing his jeans, and Dream wishes he would take them off, he wants to pet at Hob's thighs in turn, he wants to see.

"You're a holy vision," Hob says, still studying him with that look, raw and strangled. Find some man to bed you, Dream thinks, feverishly. Some man.

He plucks at the fabric of Hob's jeans. "Hob—“

Hob chuckles. "Sorry, sorry. Bit unfair of me, isn't it? Got too distracted looking at you." He unzips his jeans then, pulls them off, and then is sitting there only in his underwear—something which Dream does not bother to manifest for himself because his clothing is made already of dream stuff, but perhaps he will start because Hob bare before him, his cock heavy and hard in his boxer briefs but still obscured by the fabric is—

"Dream?" Hob asks, as Dream pushes himself up on his elbows and reaches for him, mesmerized, cups his hand around Hob through the fabric, feels the warmth and heft of him, "did I break y— ah fuck."

Hob pushes into his hand, bends down over him again to kiss him as if summoned to it, and it is thrilling, sparkles along every vein, to get such a reaction. To have Hob caving to him. "Fuck, Dream."

Dream indulges himself further, slips his hand under Hob's waistband, takes him in his grasp, and Hob jerks against him. Dream's mouth waters at the weight of him, he has to swallow thickly to clear his throat, his own cock is heavy and straining, and he parts his thighs further for Hob. Vulnerable. Yes. This is vulnerable, and especially so in the waking world, and he wants, he wants Hob in him. A new feeling.

"Hob. I want—"

"I know, darling. Fuck, you're beautiful. Your hands—" He shakes himself. "Right. Right."

Hob sits up again. Strips off his underwear properly. His hair is hanging loose and messy now, eyes ever so slightly glazed with pleasure, chest rising and falling, his prick hard and ruddy at the tip. He is arresting.

He pushes Dream's legs up so his knees are bent, finds the bottle of lube where it's fallen into the sheets, pours some out into his hand. Leans in to kiss Dream’s belly, pleasant and tickling, and in the same motion drags a finger over Dream’s entrance.

Dream catches his wrist, inhuman pulse peaking in his throat, like a burst of dream stuff. “You do not need to put in such effort. This body does not have these human limitations.”

Hob tsks and taps his hand away. “You said you wanted the full experience. And the full Hob Gadling experience includes proper prep and aftercare, even if you're made of whims and fantasies. Free of charge, by the way."

"Oh, indeed?" This comes out significantly less teasing, and significantly more affected, than Dream had intended. "And what will the rest cost me?”

Hob winks at him. "Only your pleasure, darling."

This time, he leans over Dream, takes Dream’s wrist and pins it to the bed by his head. Dream lets out a choked gasp. The sudden pressure of Hob’s grip makes something stand out sharply within him, and then collapse again in relief. Hob makes a considering noise, and holds him there as he presses a finger lightly to Dream’s entrance with his other hand.

Dream shudders as Hob pushes his finger in, one knuckle, two, as he works in and out of Dream’s body, stretching him— it is an odd sensation, one he half-feels he should shy away from, but Hob’s grip on his arm is grounding, and Hob kneeling between his spread legs is tickling something in him that wants very badly.

Then Hob crooks his finger and pleasure rushes through him like a windstorm. Dream arches off the bed, grabbing at the sheets, and Hob laughs. “Thought you might like that.”

“Hob.” Dream thinks he means this to come out admonishing but it’s far more strained. Hob doesn’t give him time to recover, he drags his finger over Dream’s prostate again and Dream bites down hard on his lower lip. Hob slips his finger out, returns with two, and now it’s a stretch. Dream grinds down on him, resists the urge to whine as Hob works him over on his fingers, rubbing over his prostate on every other stroke.

“You are unbelievably gorgeous,” Hob murmurs, watching where his fingers slip in and out of Dream’s body, and then back up at Dream’s face with awe and fixation.

“Even,” Dream struggles over the words as sensation washes through him, Hob’s fingers in him, filling him, so much and yet he wants more, “spread out, like so?”

“Especially then. The way you move on my fingers,” he twists his hand to emphasize the point, and Dream shudders, "the fact that you let me. D’you know how long I’ve looked at you and wondered?” Saying this, he kisses Dream, sliding his hand up Dream’s wrist to clasp their fingers together. “Passing Stranger, your body has become not yours only nor left my body mine only. Fuck, I wanted to see you like that.”

You give me the pleasure of your eyes, Dream thinks, but doesn’t quote the poem back to him— Hob reels him away again by the touch of his hands. He pushes a third finger into Dream, and now it is tight, it is so much, but Dream pushes himself back onto Hob’s hand. Hob’s fingers move gloriously within him, touching every part of him, and he starts speaking again in his low, honey voice, that’s it, darling, good, feels so good, yeah? and Dream needs Hob inside him. Hob has pulled him by the throat from inexperienced to grasping, and he is grasping.

Hob keeps fingering him, spiking his pleasure higher, his cock hanging heavy and teasing Dream with each move he makes. Dream himself is painfully hard, and it sharpens the feeling of Hob in him from maddening to agonizing. Hob kisses him, licks into Dream’s mouth, and Dream opens to his tongue. He opens to him. Like a yawning, cavernous thing.

Wanting Hob in him has shifted to needing Hob in him has shifted to lacking Hob in him, that Hob is a fundamental part of him and without him Dream is bereft. “Hob,” he whines, mortified by the sound of it but unable to drag himself back to that place of control he had surely—surely?—started the evening with. “Please—”

Hob’s head jerks up and he looks at Dream in shock. And. Oh.

Shame rushes through Dream’s body. Who has he become, begging a human to fuck him? Is he not the Lord of all Dreaming, is he not above this? Once, Dream was a skillful and assertive lover, he could bring the full power of the Dreaming to bear for his lovers’ pleasure, he could craft every moment exactly as needed— and now—

But Hob doesn’t draw away in disgust. Or gloat over the position he’s maneuvered Dream into. He smiles down at him, a soft look that goes just a bit pained at the edges as Dream tenses. Then he presses his lips to Dream’s cheek. Even that simple touch makes Dream shiver.

“It’s alright, darling,” Hob murmurs, so gentle but the heat of it still winds through Dream’s insides. “Don’t you know I’ll give you what you need? You don’t have to beg for it.” He slips his fingers out and back in, only two now, working them as deep as they’ll go. “But you sound so pretty when you do.”

“Please,” Dream says, the words again dragged from him unbidden, unspooled by the feeling of Hob inside him, there but not enough. Hob kisses him, swallows his plea like sweet wine, works him on his fingers, grinds his cock in tantalizing lines over Dream’s thigh. And gradually something unlocks in Dream’s ribcage, each piece turning itself open in realization. Hob likes when he asks, begs even. But he isn’t going to make him.

Asking, then, feels less like a wound rent in him, showing all his torn pieces, and more like a spell that will draw Hob to him. Speak, and he will come.

“Please,” Dream says again, and this time the words don’t tear. He speaks into Hob’s mouth, and the wet warmth of Hob’s lips and tongue soothe him where asking might start to chafe. “Hob, I need—”

“Do you need my cock, love?” Hob asks, rough low and rough and burning. “Feels empty, doesn’t it?” He slips his fingers free, and Dream whines. “I know. I know. You’re just starving for it, aren’t you?”

Starving, yes, Dream would like to take Hob in his mouth, but right now he’s feverish for something else. Hob is so close, every touch of his skin already has Dream singing, but he still wants more. He tangles his hand in Hob’s hair, wraps one leg around the back of Hob’s thighs to pull him closer, and Hob laughs, breathless.

“Fuck, Dream, you’re so—” Hob sounds spun around, now, and it’s gratifying to knock him askew in the way he’s done to Dream.

“Hob Gadling,” Dream says, putting the weight of sleeping desire into his voice, “I need you. I’m waiting.”

“Fucking hell,” Hob groans. “I’ve created something terrifying.” He doesn’t sound displeased about it. In fact, he kisses Dream again, lets Dream pull him close by the hair, smiling into his mouth. “Gonna make it so good for you, I promise.”

“I can plague your sleep with eternal nightmares if not,” Dream says, with no intention of doing so.

“See, I’m so confident in my ability to fuck you” —Dream's skin prickles at the word— “that I’m not even worried about it.”

He makes Dream lift up so he can push a pillow under his hips, takes Dream’s leg and maneuvers it over his shoulder, bending his body back. Dream shivers at the vulnerability of the position, the way he’s pinned. Hob kisses the bend of his knee with a little smile, and then Dream watches down the length of their bodies as Hob takes himself in hand. He’s so hard, glistening with pre at the tip, and Dream swallows jerkily.

“Alright, love?” Hob asks, meeting his eyes. He has always had the brightest, loveliest eyes. Dream holds his gaze and nods. He is not certain that he is, in fact, all right, he feels strange and spun about and immersed in the waking dream of Hob’s bed and Hob’s touch, but he does not want Hob to stop, he wants Hob to fuck him.

Hob presses into him, slowly, pausing when just the head of his cock is sheathed. And Dream— Dream was not prepared, Hob’s fingers did not prepare him for the all around pressure of Hob’s cock, the way it would fill him. It dances on the edge of pain, but he wants more. Already, more.

“More,” he finds himself saying, and Hob chuckles, bracing a hand around the back of Dream’s neck as he complies. This time, he pushes all the way in, not stopping until he bottoms out, groaning at the feeling. Dream clutches at his shoulders, no doubt leaving indents in his skin, body clenching convulsively as he gets used to the feeling of Hob in him.

Hob is inside him. Hob is inside him.

“Dream, you alright? You’re… breathing,” Hob says, petting through his hair. He sounds awed.

Breathing. He is breathing. And he hadn't commanded it so. Hadn't even meant it. Normally Dream forgets to affect such human mannerisms, even when it might be advisable to do so. But now he is breathing. Each one is choppy, three steps up three steps down, somewhere between a breath and a sob.

“I am fine,” he says, and Hob shushes him, kissing his cheek.

“I know you are. It’s alright to get a bit overwhelmed, yeah?” Hob is still in him, Dream can still feel every centimeter of him everywhere, but he doesn’t move. Simply lets Dream settle.

Dream tries to stop the wretched breathing, it makes him feel human and mortal and out of control, but he can’t, this temporary body affixed to this plane by Hob’s weight, his touch. Hob kisses his cheek again, nuzzles at his ear, and gradually Dream finds himself subsiding, relaxing in increments. It occurs to him, through the distant knowledge of the Dreaming, that this softness would not be characteristic of a temporary, experimental experience with a stranger, should Dream have simply wanted to know what it was like. It occurs to him through his own knowledge that this vulnerability he feels, this ability to ease him, is characteristic only of Hob.

He does not yet know what to do with that, but he turns to find Hob’s lips. Hob meets him easily, smiling into the kiss. “With me?” he asks, and Dream nods.

“Yes.”

Then Hob starts to move, slow measured thrusts at first. Dream breathes through each, and perhaps breathing is not so bad, after all, for it settles him, and settling lets him take Hob in, and he wants to take Hob in. It is so good, the slide of him sends sparks all along Dream’s limbs, builds inexorable and tantalizing heat through his body, none of his many dreams conveyed to him just how good it would be, when brought from dreams to reality. From memory to the body. More, even, than this is the sense of Hob’s body over him, the heat of him, and the strength, the breadth of his shoulders, the drag of Hob’s belly over Dream’s prick, the way he moves, expertly pushing Dream higher and oh-so-much faster with each thrust, tapping against that edge of pain-and-too-much without ever letting him fall over it.

Dream is starting to think that, in addition to his general experience, Hob has become quite an expert in knowing what Dream, specifically, might like.

“Good, darling?” Hob asks against his jaw, and Dream means to respond but all that comes out is a whine. He feels Hob’s smile against his skin. “More, then?”

Dream evidently doesn’t have to respond. Hob braces himself more firmly over him, and then he’s moving much faster, and then Dream really loses his senses. Hob bears down on him, levering Dream’s leg back further and deepening the angle, and each thrust hits before Dream has recovered from the last, and Hob’s mouth is on his throat, right over his pulse, which is also hammering—

Hob hits his prostate, and Dream keens as lightning arcs through him. Hob is talking to him now as he does it again and again, saying through panting breaths something like, you’re so good, does that feel good? is’at good for you? fuck you’re gorgeous, but Dream can’t parse much detail. He feels he should be participating more actively, but the wherewithal to do so has slipped away from him, all he can do is take what Hob is giving to him.

Probably that is what Hob wants. Perhaps he has fantasized over their long acquaintance about having Dream bent in just this position. Many might wish to have the Dream Lord at their mercy. Hob’s mercy, however, is a burst of pure heat straight to the soul.

“Hob,” he’s saying when he comes back to himself enough to notice, “Hob, Hob—”

“You’re beautiful like that,” Hob says, voice rough. “Dreamed of it— ha. You make the most beautiful noises.”

They are, in fact, wholly undignified noises, but Dream can’t seem to bring himself to stop; Hob punches each sound of pleasure out of him. He floats. Holds onto Hob’s shoulders. Presses his face to Hob’s and feels the scratch of his stubble. The rough calluses of his hands. The rhythm of Hob’s body is sublime. The kiss that he presses to the corner of Dream’s eye is more so. He is… crying there. Tears spilling over and down his cheeks. Dream has crafted the heights of euphoria within the Dreaming. But. Has any of it ever been as good as this?

He has Hob close to him, around him, in him, and still he wants more. Never again will Dream be able to disdain the office of Desire, not without looking away in shame at the lie.

His release washes over him in a wave that he doesn’t even notice until it peaks, so great is the rest of his pleasure. He gasps as he comes, not even needing Hob’s hand on him, tips his head back on the pillow, eyes squeezed shut, mouth open. Chest heaving. Hob slows, cups Dream’s cheek—until Dream urges him on with an ankle hooked around the back of his thigh, do not stop do not stop do not—

“Alright.” Hob nips at his lower lip in admonishment but he does start fucking him again, clearly chasing his own release now rather than pushing for Dream’s. That edge of pleasure-pain now tips closer to pain but Dream relishes in it. Each stuttered motion of Hob in him is blessed.

“I want,” he manages, throat dry, voice scraped rough from his cries, “to feel you come. In me.”

“Oh fuck,” Hob swears. “Dream.” And that apparently is enough. Hob’s hips stutter quick and he comes, hot spurts in Dream’s body, he can feel it. When Hob's tension eases, when his breath catches up to him, he moves to pull out—but Dream drags him back in. He wants— wants to keep Hob inside him, belly spine lungs throat, bring Hob in and in and hold him there, wants that warmth with him always. He could live like that, with Hob close to him.

Hob helps him lower his leg from his shoulder, stretch out sore muscles, and then lets Dream pull him in close, hold him there, in him, even as he’s going soft. He turns them on their sides, tucks his face in against Dream’s shoulder. Breathes the same air.

“So,” Hob says, after several, very long moments where they’ve been lying quietly together, tacky with sweat, Dream’s limbs all wrapped around Hob and Hob running his hands up and down his back, “how was that?”

“Mm?” Dream is still floating. It’s very pleasant.

He can feel Hob grinning against his shoulder. “You wanted to know what it was like to sleep with a man.”

What it was like. Dream is not certain he knows. He knows that Hob’s arms around him are strong, the touch of his skin pleasant even with the combined heat of their bodies. That he smells of sex and sweat and Dream wants to mire himself in it. He knows that, as Hob does finally, carefully pull out, he can feel Hob’s come dripping sticky over his thighs and rather than being discomforting, it only reminds him how he was wanted. His own come is smeared over Hob’s belly in disorganized lines, and Hob’s hair is ravaged by his fingers. There are still tears drying on Dream’s face. He knows that Hob has had him, now, and is still holding him. That the force of his lovemaking annihilated Dream’s dignity. That Hob wants to kiss him during sex. That at his prolonged silence, Hob looks up, finds his gaze, questioning.

“I am not certain that’s what I studied,” Dream admits. “Or. Learned.”

“Oh? What’d you learn, then?” Hob touches his cheek, as if even parted for a second, he wants to be close to Dream again. “Least tell me if you enjoyed it.”

“I did.” Dream must look ruined, and still Hob must confirm he enjoyed it? “What I learned is not what it is like to be with 'a man'. But rather.” He brushes his thumb over Hob’s lower lip, and Hob’s mouth opens at the movement. “What it is like. To be loved. By a very good friend.”

Hob’s expression crinkles into the softest smile at loved. “Oh, a very good friend, hm?”

“Very good,” Dream says. Presses his hand flat to Hob’s heart. “Uniquely so. Uniquely good to me among friends.” Not that Dream has… friends, plural. Better, then, that Hob is so singular. Singular enough to have nestled somewhere within him, between one meeting, one drink, one kiss and the next, and Dream would no longer be without him. His heart is surrounded by a hazy warmth much softer than the sharp pang of desire, and Hob's bed, Hob's touch, is soothing to him, a blanket he has finally pulled over his shoulders after trying to brave the lingering cold. Like so much this evening, it feels strange, and like so much this evening, it feels too good to shy away.

Hob leans in to kiss him, a soft drag of lips over his. “Good. Can I convince my friend to go in for a shower? Tea, maybe? Can I convince him to stay the night and keep exploring that friendship?”

Hob has taken care of him this evening, has not yet lead him astray, and so Dream lets him pull him out of bed and to his feet. In the shower, under the rushing hot water, Hob kisses him, kisses him, kisses him, rough, inelegant, consumed by feeling, hands curled around Dream’s hips. Dream will not make dreams out of this night, after all, he thinks. Selfishly, he wants to keep it to himself.

Peerless among friends, Hob Gadling, he thinks, as Hob makes him tea. As Hob tugs him back over the threshold, into the bedroom, into the mess they’ve made of the sheets. Peerless among friends.

Among lovers, too, perhaps.

#tfw ur having casual sex with ur homie to learn what its like to get dicked down then oh no youre having a gay awakening oh NO youre having #a romantic awakening about your homie too. we've all been there #my writing #dreamling #dreamling fic #dream of the endless #hob gadling #dream x hob #you best believe 'i serve at your pleasure' plays over and over and over and over in dream's mind for weeks after #btw the poem hob quotes is 'to a stranger' #nsft

[historia-vitae-magistras]

Can I ask why Arthur is your exception to what is otherwise your bisexuality rule? You've shown other relationships besides fruk so I'm curious.

Women deserve better. Jk I do think he's bi, I kind of like engbel especially but much its because my universe stems into the 1980s and Nancy Reagan probably would have tried to gob on some lime and salt nuts if she'd caught a vibe and it's just better for everyone if there are no vibes to catch. He's just sliding towards the mlm version of the Kinsey scale. Also I think I've been really influenced by how there's this really fascinating string of real people in history who were considered very effete, think dandies or Oscar Wilde types. And they were suspected of sexual activities that were then very illegal. Except sometimes they have a shit ton of rumored bastards and that could often keep them off the radar or out of jail.

I've read the archival material of a lot of men right into modern times who would have a very fake but very intense looking romance with a dying woman who was often their very good friend so he could go a good twenty years before anyone bothered him about producing heirs like "oh the poor man lost his great love let us leave him alone to mourn in his sad bachelor state." Like yeah nah he's been living with his boarding school blow buddy for 30 years. Or gay men who would marry widows quite a bit older than them, adopt her children and spare themselves the act of reproduction. Then be described as being inseparable from their valet who apparently saved their life in the Crimean war or some shit. (They're gay.) In a lot of times and places in history, it was the rejection of the bourgeois respectability and the social responsibility to marry and reproduce that was unacceptable rather than just same-sex love. Or to have children and a household was a very powerful shield against social exclusion or legal punishment.

So yeah, the prickly question of Arthur's sexuality and how it effected family life occupies my brain a lot and not just my shitposts about Matt sleeping in the barn because his parents are railing lmao. How it makes his children, especially Alfred but all of them, social currency. How creating this illusion of a family life forms them and keeps them safe as almost-human creatures with almost human rules in a human world with human rules.

#hws england #the ask box || probis pateo #meatsack mechanics || the sociology and biology of nations #arthur and the children || bilge rat and his bouncing baby bilge rats

[mazyb0i]

Other RnM fans?

Rick n Morty fan creator/artist here, trying to make friend brohs with ppl who are also obsessed with the show. I have a hard time reaching out due to my anxiety. (proshippers DNI)

tldr; you're also a neurodivergent queer artist nutjob that makes crackpipe art an shitposts, heavily kins a character at one point or another, and we should be friends because we can be insane together LMFAO

Fav show ships: BP x Rick all day, (I love flesh curtains, and their dynamic is just so yes... I...) Morty x Alaska (i named the vat of acid gf Alaska because the Alaska trip..) Summer x that one girl... Morticia X Jessica, Rickcest/ Rick selfcest is aight, I obsess over Miamicop. I think selfcest in cloning / multiuniverse theory is harmless, but don't come at me with any of that proshipper/inc3st/rickorty shit. I will block you, report you, and put you on a DNI beware list; this is a threat & a warning. That shit is never EVER ok.

if we become friends/wanna know about;

I'm diagnosed Audhd, I'm a transmasc demiboy, I like to be referred to as nonbinary and a transgender male with He/They pronouns. Panromantic Demisexual.

I'm a rick kinnie, just means I identify with rick, in another universe I could be him XD, I relate to him, we share the same personality literally (ENTP 7w8); he's my self identifying comfort character. But my big interest with this show/comic is probably due to some kind of autistic hyper fixation and imprintation.

Hobbies: Crafting, Digital illustration, Fursuit /Costume making, Youtube, 3D designing, Making silly video skits, Writing, Character design, Shit posting, Creating ai voice bots for fun n fandom purposes (will make le memes), Trying to be a youtuber like Imbrandonfarris and Britany Broski, collecting stuff, VRchat, Collecting fluffy soft shit like stuffies, pillows, blankets, and hoodies. I SLEEP IN A NEST OF ALL OF THESE

Personality?: Chaotic, Unhinged, Tired and fed up with this shit, All the Energy AND NO ENERGY, I'm so tired please god help me, i'm an enigma. Ambiverted. If ur looking for a cool crazy cat dude broh who draws weird ass digital art and is always tired but jacked on coffe, adderall, and Naproxen i'm your guy.... :'}

I do alot of art and have alot of burnouts due to my adhd- I've been told I'm  innovative, clever, and expressive. I can jury-rig your glasses easily with a paperclip if you're screw comes out and loose frames causes the lens to pop. I'm very detail and idea-oriented, i come up with thousands of ideas, questions, and theories. Because of this, I tend to come up with one idea after another without actually going forward with plans and actions because i get so overwhelmed with my massive brain XD

Even tho I'm socially awkward, I love people, I want to make friends. I like being alone a lot but I hate feeling lonely. :C When I get to know you I'm very very chatty; as long as I'm not too tired or piled with heaps of assignments. I would say I'm pretty laid-back and easy to get along with, I get so stuck up in my personal world up in my head that I lose sight of important things around me, I blame the adhd. I'm an observer, I like to watch and see how things happen, I am a very hands on person.

I'm constantly learning, i love science with a passion. I got hyperfixated on evolution of different animal clades a while back. I am immensely curious and focused on understanding how the world operates and functions. I'm looking for mental and intellectual stimulation, lettuce skip casual conversation about wheather- whats your favorite dinosaur? (fuck ignore my dyslexia) and before you say a pterodactyl let me stop you right there- they aren't dinosaurs. if you like understanding the world through learning various things about science, technology, or culture, I'm your guy. but I'm also just a silly hoo hoo aah smart ass.

god this is finally done... I've been writing this for an hour......

#rick and morty #rick sanchez #artists on tumblr #looking for friends #shitpost #entp #entp personality #i might be a furry #writers on tumblr #i like mlp #i like inside job on netflix' #what is wrong with me #im so tired #anxious #demiboy #pansexual #panromantic #demisexual #nonbinary #enby #transmasc #transgender #trans guy #draw with me #i need drawing buddies #like the drawfee channel and imbrandonfarris and camerondomasky had a love child and shat us out ig #he him #they them #proshitters dni #anti proshitter

[annihilatius]

Welcome to my blog where I document my descent into mental insanity. If you forced me to give this blog a label I'd say it's fandom-centric but I post a lot of other diverse stuff too, such as memes/shitposts, art, photography, so on. I also want to post about my original characters + their story. I am an artist but I don't post it often because of how long it takes and I don't really do sketches, so I post other things in the meantime. I try to stay away from intra-community discourse or general negative topics because it just makes me sad, and this blog is meant to be a form of escapism from my problems not a reminder of them. But of course I don't entirely ignore those things, so watch out for that if you don't wanna see it either. (Lots more under cut)

On stuff I actually like, you can just check my highlighted tags to see what I'm most into at the moment but there are more that I don't post often so I feel like I should address all of them at once. In fictional media, I like Bioshock (current hyperfixation), Pokemon (previous hyperfixation), Resident Evil but I don't really consider myself to be apart of the fandom because I don't play for the story or characters (I do like. Some of them though), Nexomon (previous hyperfixation), Fran Bow, Outlast, Amnesia. On fandom stuff, I'll talk a lot about the thing I'm currently hyperfixated on or have a special interest in, which for the moment is Bioshock (wow what a surprise). I mostly make shitposts, but I sometimes make serious analyses mostly on stuff I don't like because theres a lot more for me to say there, I don't do it to be negative I do it because it's fun to talk about. My brain for some reason is incapable of being hyperfixated on more than one thing at a time (I define hyperfixate by thinking about one thing 24/7 and making it about everything not *just* liking something a lot) and it can flip-flop often, so I apologize if you followed me for one specific fandom and then I got hyperfixated on something else. I never stop being deranged about a piece of media though, it just lays dormant like a sleeper agent waiting to be awakened again.

I know I said I don't like posting discourse but people apparently care about this stuff. I really, really hate DNIs because they're entirely redundant for a multitude of reasons, so instead of saying "if you are this thing then kys I hate you" like all DNIs do, because I cannot stop you from interacting I'm just going to list off things I do not support so if you do support said things I am going to block you because there are definitely things I have strong opinions on. All kinds of bigotry I shouldn't have to say. Exclusion/hatred of any queer group that's "acceptable" to shit on because reasons x y z (multisexuals, nonbinary people, aspecs, polyamorous people, queerhets, transmascs/trans men). I don't care for either side of "shipcourse" but if you are an antishipper or a proshipper and you harass ANYONE or justify harassment, please get a hobby and don't bother me. Don't come to me with ship, flag, or slur discourse in general.

Tag navigation! #v.txt < orginal text posts #v.jpg < finished art #v.png < wip art #asks?!?! < asks #pinned post < current or previous pinned posts #ocs < my ocs, if you're curious about them then I'd reccomend looking at my ToyHouse (specific ocs get their own tag) #scuffed game reviews tag < serious game reviews #❤ < my favourite posts (reblogs)

Last updated: 15/4/24 (DD/MM/YY)

#v.txt #pinned post

[sapphire-weapon]

Hey! I’ve been reading your EagleOne fanfic, and I am in love with it! I think you really capture Leon’s character pretty accurately, which I haven’t seen done a lot in fanfic. Which makes me wonder: when you write Leon, do you have a process for it? Like, do you imagine him saying the dialogue he says in your story to make sure it fits? Do you keep his characterization set to a certain game portrayal or a mixture of all iterations of Leon? I’m really curious!

yeah if I can't hear what I'm writing in Nick's voice, I don't write it. I do that for every character. I just have to be careful, because I'm trying to specifically write for Remake Leon, and Nick modeled his performance after Paul Mercier's... and Paul Mercier is my OG Leon voice -- not Matt Mercer. so I semi-frequently run into issues where I've had to delete entire blocks of dialogue because I realize I slipped back into OG Leon for a bit. that usually happens during times when he's trying to be funny.

but my method for this has always been to just study a character's speech patterns. Remake Leon generally speaks in shorter sentences (whereas OG Leon has a tendency to ramble), and he does that because he, on the whole, speaks slower than most other people in the cast. and he speaks slower because he's trying to keep his emotions guarded. he'll only speed up his cadence if he's really comfortable in a scene/moment or if he's pissed/upset. Remake Leon is awkward and stunted and he knows it, but he doesn't want other people to see him that way. so I start with the emotion of the scene, consider who it is he's talking to, what they're talking about, and how much of what he's feeling he'd be willing to show.

he also has a really dry sense of humor (as opposed to OG Leon, who will turn damn near anything into a pun and/or shitpost if he can), so keeping that in the back of my head helps complement the low-key way he tends to talk.

[milfweirdal]

Random Question: When did you first learn about Al and at what point did you fall down into the land of Weird Al hyperfixation?

hi mirrors! (I hope it's ok me calling you that lmk if there's something else you'd like me to call you instead!)

Ok so I first learned about al when I was a kid, about 8ish. I assume this age because I think it was around the time that Poodle Hat came out. My dad introduced me to his music. I don't think he was like, a fan? More of a casual enjoyer. When he showed me and my lil bro the songs eBay and Eat It and Fat and Like A Surgeon and Amish Paradise we were both entranced. My brother was more into him than I was then and when Straight Outta Lynwood came out he introduced me to Virus Alert and I'll Sue Ya and Don't Download This Song and also Hardware Store and I loved them all. I loved the way he made the songs funny and silly and wasn't afraid to be weird. I never really dug deeper into his music than that and for a long while I mostly forgot about him apart from occasionally jamming to those songs and enjoying it when my brother played his music and irritating the people around me by singing his lyrics over the original songs whenever I heard them.

Fast forward to right at the end of December last year. 2022 was a very Year for me and I was looking forward to it being over and moving into 2023 and was like. 2022 has gotta have one final curveball for me. Let's see what it ends up being. Then one of my mutuals on main reblogged the Germs weird al gnc af gifset. And I was shook to my core. The fact that he'd done a nine inch nails pastiche? One of my favourite bands, that I discovered after my weird al days? How had it never really occurred to me that he had an entire discography that I could now explore as an adult with a richer understanding and appreciation of wordplay, humour, composition and music in general? And how had I taken this long to realise how gender he was? How much of a formative influence on me was he without me realising at all? Is he the reason I love Hawaiian shirts, I even wondered?? A couple of days later the hyperfixation hit like a ton of bricks. Like it hit so hard that I didn't sleep at all that night. I was just listening to his songs and scrolling through @yankovic-lovers until like 10am. I think I made this sideblog around the middle of January when I knew that being normal about him was likely no longer going to be an option. Then a few days after that I happened to Google "weird al tour dates" because I love seeing live music and was curious as to whether he ever played live in the UK or not and whaddaya know? He was shortly going to be playing a show of the return of the vanity tour at the same venue I saw nine inch nails at last summer. Spooky. So of course I bought a ticket. And no word of a lie, that was one of the best shows I've ever been to, even with just the seated set. Seeing a full scale tour is now bucket list territory for me.

It's been just about seven months of Yankofreakin' It and shows no sign of slowing. I'm really taking my time with exploring his entire career outside of music and outside of his main studio albums cos I don't want it to end honestly :'). I really think he's going to be one of those artists who's going to become a solid favourite, who's going with me in some way for life even when this hyperfixation isn't so intense anymore. Feels weird to say but it feels like I was always meant to find my way back to being a fan of him, like it was inevitable, and I'm so happy that it finally happened. He's really helped me understand myself and appreciate myself more (queer autistic self-recognition through the sillygoofy Other is a powerful thing, it turns out), helped me cope with what has turned out to be another difficult year, and I absolutely adore the fan community on here - you're all utterly delightful and I'm really glad to have 'met'/shitposted with you all.

I don't think that mutual who reblogged that gifset actually knows it was their fault (lighthearted) like we've never talked so I've never had the opportunity to be like. YOU!! (insert photo of person grabbing cat who knocked over plantpot here)

TL;DR: liked him as a kid, mostly forgot about him after that and then at New Year's one of my mutuals reblogged a gifset of him sliding down a mic stand in a Trent Reznor costume and now I spend my days calling him a milf on Tumblr dot com.

Thank you for asking!!! This is a sideblog so consider this reply to be me also sending you an ask with precisely the same questions!!

[rolloollor]

This week, I'll finally start posting the new longfic, Bound by Briar! It'll go up on Wednesday~ I'm excited to share it since I'm super curious as to what people will think about it!

I also worked on the vampire AU this weekend. Since I had Friday off, we're up to 15k! I know what ending I want, but I dunno how long it'll be to get there. I kind of want to mirror Sacerdos... not sure if I can, though. It might be boring if I did, anyway. But like Sacerdos, we're gonna have some Latin theming with the title and the chapter names. I perused the list of Latin phrases on wikipedia and saved a bunch, along with their translations, which I'll include in the titles. Bound by Briar won't be fully uploaded until like the end of May, so I'm thinking I'll take my time with this fic. Unicorn Overlord's gonna come out next month and all... I'm gonna play it no matter what.

Also... I dunno how many people would be interested, but now that it's open I have a bluesky if you wanna follow me there. I'm a lurker by nature and it's really hard to shake off that instinct tbh... Anyway, I imagine it'll end up mostly as a shitpost depository. Probably with some musings of my writing, like, complaining about research rabbit holes I go down. Maybe some misc twst talk and chatter about other things I like.

#rllr fanfic ponderings #mallerollo

[overobsessedfanboy23]

Managed to catch the live airing of Episode 91 of Go Rush

Despite the lag (which to my knowledge, was happening to everyone, at least on this website, and was no fault of anyone) and knowing next to no Japanese, I do feel like I've gotten the basic gist of the episode?

I'm obviously not going to review it until it's subtitled but I can say what I did get from the episode.

Also, no, I'm probably not going to keep up with the live airings from now on, at least not every time. I only did it this week (and probably next week) because I wasn't sure when I would next be able to see the episode. For normal episodes like this, I do prefer to just wait for it to be subtitled so I can fully know what's going on.

SPOILERS BELOW

-The others know the Velgearians are fated to die now (guessing Yudias told them what Kuaidul said).

-Yuhi especially is extremely adamant about finding a way to help them. Poor kid. He and the others also called Yudias their "nakama" or "best friend" at one point which I thought was really sweet.

-Even fortunetellers can't see the Velgearians' future (I recognised the word 'mirai' as future being brought up repeatedly in these conversations so I'm guessing this is what was asked/said)

-Dudi Nishaw's people are dying and he doesn't know why. Given the reactions of the characters, Kuaidul's dying message (which was also brought up multiple times), and the animation of this part:

I'm pretty certain that's what they were saying, even if I don't have a key word to confirm it like I did with the 'future' thing.

The ending conversation I am very confused on admittedly but if I had to guess from my Yugioh knowledge, and the repeated mention of rush duels, my guess is they're saying something like "There's always a way to come back in a rush duel so the same must be true for the Velgearians." or "You're connected to rush duels so rush duels must have the solution." or... something like that. I don't know, I'll admit the frequent mention of rush duels out of nowhere after such a serious conversation about many Velgearians mysteriously dying confused me quite a bit.

I'm also not going to guess what's going on with Rovian. I... just can't remember anything that happened in the second arc that this is clearly calling back to. That should change soon as I rewatch it but for all I know, Rovian and the hat had a conversation ranging anywhere from "I had a nice cup of tea today" to "I'm going to fucking betray everyone."

This episode overall, based on the tone and animation and what little I got or guessed from the dialogue, did not feel like a shitpost episode, as some of the other arc starters did. This felt pretty serious despite the weird parts, which I am grateful for. I mentioned in my post about this episodes' synopsis that it would have serious tonal issues but that doesn't seem to be the case. I like that they're instantly trying to solve this. I like that it's the focus of this next arc and am curious to see where it goes.

So... yes. I am keeping up with Go Rush again. I said after Kuaidul's death it would be too painful for me to continue (that happened on Christmas Eve in my defence, all sorts of emotions were running high) but I think the double week break between episode airings, as well as the fact that Entame is taking a break as well, gave me enough time to recover and regain my love for Go Rush. Well... my love of things in Go Rush that weren't my love for Kuaidul. That never faltered.

I'll give this episode a more proper review in a couple weeks or so when it's subtitled as knowing the 'gist' of an episode isn't enough to critique it. From what little I did gather though, I liked it and it made me want to see more, which is all it needed to do.

#yugioh go rush spoilers #go rush spoilers #go rush episode reviews #my opinion really didn't change on this one when I saw it subbed #I just got more context is all

[nebulousfishgills]

let's talk about Diplopia!

what prompted you to write it initially? How did you come up with the idea to have them cross into another dimension? Why Twilight and not another of JCB's roles, like Shadowhunters or Sweeney Todd?

would you write another universe-crossing fic like that, either still with JCB or with other actors?

what was your favorite chapter or scene to write in Diplopia? Was there a scene you especially struggled with? Did writing it come in bursts of inspiration or a continuous stream of motivation? Or with the idea, was it a bolt of inspiration or a gradual build?

If, instead of Emily, you'd chosen to create a new OC to complement Caius, what characteristics would you give them? (Emily is fantastic and I love how she works into the story, but I'm curious to see what a "from scratch" Twilight OC would look like)

Do you like Emily's relationship with Henry or Caius better? Which relationship does SHE like better? Does she ever regret leaving Henry behind? If she were to encounter another of their "doppelgangers" (Jace Wayland, Anthony Hope), would she consider a relationship there too?

Ah yes, the strangest thing I've ever written that turned into one of my most complex fics to date... yes, let's absolutely talk about it! Thanks for the ask!

There will be more shitposts because I want to share my stupidity.

How it Began

I think most people know that I hadn't ever planned on touching Twilight with a thirty nine and a half foot pole. I'd grown up hearing about how god awful it was and that it had no redeeming qualities. For god's sake, the final battle never even actually happened! What are the stakes?? What's the point??

Then, of course, Summer of 2022 comes along and we all know what came with it. The further I fell down that rabbit hole, I came to realize that the pretty (fucked up) blonde I was starting to get eyes for... also happened to be in Twilight, among other things. I told myself, quote, "I'm not breaking my No Twilight streak over this."

Then, my roommate and I made the executive decision to celebrate our first week of college by watching Twilight since neither of us ever had. That was a very strange week and I remember having mixed emotions watching all five movies... the main one I remember was watching New Moon and then realizing that this is where that one meme came from:

Fast forward to that Sunday, I had finished Breaking Dawn (roommate dropped out after New Moon, I don't blame them) and was ready to move on with my life. But of course I can't leave well-enough alone. I was talking with a friend over snapchat about just how awful the movies were, providing examples such as the horrid cgi used when Caius' fake death happens and the Denali's rip his jaw off (I'll spare you the imagery). This friend knew about Emily and was very enthusiastic about her, and that's when this happened:

So that's how it was born. A friend from high school theatre gave me the idea, and it all went back to the arson. In fact, she gave me the idea for the fact that Emily had red eyes at this point in time could be a consideration.

The very original idea I had was a lot less serious and more goofy than it actually ended up being. In fact, one of my very first incarnations of the idea was essentially akin to (and this is such a niche reference) the Goof Off from that one episode of My Little Pony where Pinkie Pie and Weird Al try to one up each other to win over Rainbow Dash to prove who's the better Party Pony:

Except, of course, it's Caius and Henry trying to one-up each other to impress Emily. A flower, new clothes, human souls, arson, you get the picture. And Eddie was always going to be there to bear witness to this insanity, keeping essentially a tally of who was "winning" this asenine contest.

Of course, however, a fic like this needed research. I know, it wasn't supposed to be taken super seriously and I could have probably gotten away with using the bare minimum characterization and knowledge the movies gave me, but I don't know how to half ass fics. So, I just opened the wikis and started reading. The information I discovered was... actually a lot more fascinating than I had expected. In fact it taught me more than I had thought to ask.

I remember laughing stupidly hard at Marcus' "death" because I genuinely thought he was just so over everyone's shit that he was like "thank fuck get me away from these weirdos" but NO, this dude's story is so fucking tragic I sort of feel bad for finding that scene as funny as I do. That, and I realized that my central focus, Caius, was just a, quote, "Trigger Happy Wife Guy" who just wasn't fully realized... which of course brought up said wife, but that's a later issue.

Armed with more knowledge, I needed to figure out how this was supposed to go. I couldn't just plop Henry, Emily, and Eddie in Volterra and have this pseudo Goof Off without rhyme or reason. How did we get there, how did this happen, why did this happen, and so on.

I can't put into words how far this fell from my original dumb idea. I repeatedly say even now that the original joke got lost in translation along the way. The primary source of comedy was supposed to be these two guys with almost identical faces fighting over Emily... and then that posed the question. Why would Emily even consider Caius at all? It's a contest of who's in theory the better lover, but why would Emily give Caius any thought other than the uncanny resemblance and maybe the shallow, superficial gifts he could give her?

Answering this question in the place where all my big writing ideas come from (the shower) could arguably be considered my biggest mistake/triumph.

She and Henry had to get into some kind of fight.

It took me a while to figure out what that was about, but eventually the 'joke' helped me figure it out. Diplopia (I was always proud of the cleverness of the title. It's the medical term for having double vision/seeing double) takes place after the events of Stranger Things 4, so by all rights Henry should look like Vecna, right? No, because then the joke wouldn't land the same way. So, you know, for the sake of the story I came up with an explanation. Consuming enough human souls allowed Henry to shed this gross, viney, fleshy skin, which probably meant Emily not only had to work double time to help the effort, but give up sustenance she could have used. Then it all just fell into place, her insecurities about her own Upside-Down modifications, some simmering issues in their relationship they hadn't dealt with, all that shit.

And suddenly pure comedy turned into an angsty valliant effort on Henry's part to win Emily back because he accidentally fucked up. There are still elements of the original idea in the fic, the gifts Caius gives Emily when she's giving Henry the silent treatment, and the tally board Eddie uses is seen when they're trying to figure out how Henry can fix his oopsie...

Which leads me to the fact that the very original one shot I had uploaded to my Stranger Things one-shots book on Wattpad had a different ending.

(Side note, my character arc has been all but abandoning Wattpad except as a means to store drafts. Friendship ended with Wattpad, now AO3 is my new best friend. It only took so long because of interface familiarity; I stopped reading any fics on there aside from my friends' years ago)

Originally, Emily realized all the effort Henry was going through to make her happy again was proof he was the one who knew her the best, her perfect match despite the fact that Caius provided her things she could also find the appeal in... and then I decided to be cheeky and say the entire one shot was a vision Emily had like how Breaking Dawn 2 ended. Armed with foresight, she could decline Caius' offer for them to stay for dinner and she and her two companions could just go home.

So I posted it and left it alone for about... three months.

Then I watched Breaking Dawn 2 again with, actually, @ohitshoneybee and before I knew it, I felt the familiar horrible tendrils forming.

A new hyperfixation.

Of course, before this I had once in a while thought about what would have happened if Emily had just... decided to stay with Caius, but I never went much further with it than small ideas. But NOPE, my stupid ass decided to write a whole continuation that went through all the movies just to see how they would change if Emily became a factor. That became a small winter break project, writing what I called "The Director's Cut" and posting it to an untagged story on Wattpad because originally I just wanted close friends to read it.

This allowed me to get more extensive and creative with the lore. I had The Wife Problem to deal with, sure, but I fixed that quickly and then could proceed with fully weaving Emily into this... frankly mediocre story and making my own improvements (namely trying to make Bella seem less... you know, flat faced and stupid by making her knowledgable about Hawkins, for example). Now Emily could wreck shop and I could get revenge on the franchise that had begun to ruin my life by taking a fat piss on it and putting my OC into it to make it better.

That original version of the longer story had multiple endings, like video games. A Bad Ending, A Neutral Ending, and a Good Ending. The Bad Ending was basically if Alice's vision was a reality and Emily really had lost Caius, the asshole she gave up everything for... it doesn't end well for anyone, lemme tell you. The Neutral Ending was the closest to the movie, the entire battle being a vision and the Volturi just walk away (not without complaints from Emily and Caius of course)... and then because I really wanted to be an asshole, suddenly Emily woke up back in the Upside Down, none of it having ever happened in the first place.

Once I finished the full story, I waited a bit and then decided I'd be brave and not only upload it to Archive of Our Own, but clean it up and try my hand at smut since I figured I was about to turn 19 and I'd wanted to put on big girl shoes for a while at that point... of course it had to be this fic, but you know. I chose to just use my original Good Ending since I had always viewed that as the "canonical" ending, with the Volturi kicking Cullen ass.

So, now here we are, several months later, and I have a sequel in the works. What started as an idea for a comedy one shot has now become arguably my most notable fanfic series with emotional gut punches and general weirdness.

And that's that.

So, that was a lot, but let's keep going with your other questions.

Why Caius?

I can't really provide an honest reason that sounds clever or complex. It's not like I spent hours deciding to go this route out of several others. I suppose the least complicated way to put it is just that Twilight was my first step into branching out to Jamie's other works and the idea grew because of that specifically. Diplopia was always written to make fun of Twilight and because I noticed that both Caius and Emily had this shared trait of liking fire. That's literally it.

Also I think one of the other reasons was the slowly budding desire to expand upon these characters that Stephenie Meyer, frankly, half assed. I've had the discussion with many people about the wasted potential these characters had and how I, in particular, take offense to it beyond the superficial reason that I think Jamie's more talented than such a one note character like Caius was written like displays.

The Volturi is literally a coven of dramatic, theatre kid, art and science nerds that also happen to enforce vampire laws. Since they stand in opposition to the Cullens, naturally that makes them The Bad Guys since what kind of Monster would stand in the way of Bella's happiness? So why should they get any depth?

Thing is, the few traits Meyer gave to the Volturi are traits that describe me exactly. She created the bones for characters that seem specifically curaited to me and my tastes. So their lack of depth and information bothers me excessively because I want to know more and she won't give me that information.

I'm serious, this is part of Caius' page in the Official Guide Book she wrote herself

"Sometime before 1300 BC" "Unknown" "Unknown" Ma'am this is your official guide book that has everything one needs to know about your series, you can fill in these unknown dates! Not to mention the utter lack of respect she gives the wives. They get ONE sentence, and it just says who they're married to.

Stephenie Meyer, you named Caius' wife after Athena (side note, always been my favorite of the Greek Pantheon, another reason I feel a very strong connection with these characters), she's obviously a badass, not a trophy wife who gets high.

A pet project I wanna start is to write my own guide book about the Volturi using the bones she gave, but adding my own ideas, giving these characters depth, including ideas from fics and blogs that also feel the same way as I do.

All this to say, aside from the main reason I gave, I chose Caius because, in a sense, he and his wacky, weird coven chose me. I feel very protective over these characters and I want to give them their dues. I don't claim to be the ultimate say in this since I'm a baby in the fandom and others have wonderful ideas I subscribe to, not the other way around. But still.

Other Universes?

I don't want to rule out the possibility, but Diplopia/Necrosis really feels like a one-of-a-kind phenomenon. I don't think the same effect could be felt if, say, they ran into Alicent Hightower for some reason.

(Ironic, considering I did actually find a fic shipping Alicent with the Three Stooges Kings... unfortunately it's written in Spanish soooo...)

This has been a trope I've liked to at least play with a little bit in the past, though. I remember a long time ago I thought it'd be a funny idea if my Avengers OC ran into Thomas Sharpe from Crimson Peak, a character played by Tom Hiddleston aka Loki (who she's shipped with). I never did anything with it beyond a few texts with a friend discussing the idea of Olivia and Edith duking it out.

However as of right now, I don't really forsee another forray into the Doppleganger Crossover realm anytime soon.

The Actual Writing

Favorite Scene/Chapter - Honestly I love many scenes in this fic for many different reasons. There was a certain satisfaction that came with writing Henry and Emily's big arguement and inserting Emily into the events of the actual series was wildly fun.

Although I think my favorite scenes to write in this story are as of yet unpublished scenes in its sequel, Necrosis, that I can't talk about for spoiler reasons but have been written because I'm impatient. There are two chapters in particular there that I'm immensely proud of, one where Emily is a complete girlboss and the immediate aftermath where she has a long talk with another character about her past, why she did what she did in the previous chapter, and her feelings about everything she's done as a whole, it's a very touching scene...

That's probably cheating, though, so for the sanctity of the question, I think my favorite scene in Diplopia is either the scene where the secretary has to find plane tickets to get the coven to the Cullens and the computer is infuriating everyone or the scene where Caius and Emily are talking, ah, "post coitus" about their pasts and, specifically, what happened to Athenodora.

Struggles - The smut, for one, since I'd never written smut to actually post before, and I hadn't even written anything smutty at all in a very long time. I'm getting more comfortable with it since it's something I want to include in my writing, this one in particular. It just takes me a whiiiiiile to hype myself up enough to do it. Plus, I know there's the question of whether smut is "necessary for the plot," but trust me, for Necrosis in particular any spicy scenes are important. The reason why will become more obvious as the story progresses.

Also, writing Henry and Emily's goodbye was extremely hard. I'm very protective of them and their relationship and it's something that's very important to me. I think the goodbye made the situation more real to me. I wanted to do it because then I could move on to the fun stuff later in the story, but that scene was very hard on me emotionally. I suppose that brings up the question as to why I did this in the first place, but the only real answer I can give is "shits and giggles." I'm not ashamed to admit I was crying while writing it, and the fact that "Slipping Through My Fingers" from Mamma Mia happened to come up on my shuffle while it was happening...

Motivation - The motivation was strange for sure. Nine times out of ten when I write my fics the motivation to write comes in bursts after days or even weeks being absent. Diplopia was no different. I remember it took me a while to get the original one shot done, but that wasn't necessarily a motivation issue, more like a... "once I go through with this, I can't go back, I'll have officially written Twilight fanfiction" and it was... kind of a battle to come to terms with that, and then overcoming my motivation wave.

This also brings up how I plan my fics... usually I don't plan aside from mentally, but for this one, once I decided to go full send on the Director's Cut, I knew I had to somewhat shape what I wanted to do and have it written down. So I started my trend of writing long messages to myself on a Discord server with only me in it devoted to sending myself stuff or writing down ideas. There are pages worth of notes on Diplopia and Necrosis in there. And when I get more ideas, I just add to it. The idea train never stops with me.

Emily vs. Another OC

Being honest, there were a few times where I had an errant thought or two about coming up with a whole new OC to ship with Caius aside from Emily. I never went anywhere with it other than an idea or two about a backstory or a personality, though, and I don't plan on going further than that. Here's why.

By far, Emily is my most developed, well-rounded OC. As a Twilight OC, she has an entire, fully fleshed out backstory that comes from her "past" as a Stranger Things OC. She works incredibly well as a match for Henry, but she's also very compatable with Caius. My ability to ship her with both of them very seamlessly just feels natural and my best route to go with. For all intents and purposes, Emily is my OC for Twilight just as much as she is my OC for Stranger Things.

The only thing I can think of that makes her Stranger Things ties... we'll say stronger is that she can exist as a Stranger Things character without her additional Twilight lore, but she cannot exist as a Twilight OC without at the very least her base level Stranger Things lore...

I say "base level" and I mean basically everything up until she meets Henry (so her mother giving her up, her shitty orphanage she eventually runs away from etc). I have another one shot planned where Emily manages to avoid the trauma of HNL entirely and skips right to Italy with Caius... and an additional detail but that's another conversation.

So, wouldn't it be easier to come up with a whole new OC without those Hawkins ties?

Well, maybe, but the thing is that she wouldn't be nearly as developed as I would like. And I feel like at a certain point she'd just feel like Emily, just without the baggage. It's just not in my interest to do such a thing.

However.

There are some ideas that I have that just don't quite work with Emily. She's so developed that there are things that just aren't in character for her. Her personality and presence is so unique that at a certain point there's no room for additional base level nuance. She can only change slightly with a "hypothetical" character development, and emphasis on the "slightly."

But you know who could benefit from this base level nuance that Emily can't use? Who is in desperate need of some filling to her character?

Athenodora.

Let's get something clear, Thena is Stephenie Meyer's character, I'm not saying I'm just straight up stealing her character and calling it an OC. But remember how I said I wanted to make it a project to expand upon these near empty husks of characters with my own ideas and headcanons?

All the traits I can't use with Emily I could in theory give to my revamp (no pun intended) of Athenodora. I mentioned a few asks ago how I had a one shot idea cooking that doesn't involve Emily. That one shot is basically going to be me writing out Athenodora's story. Who she was before, where she came from, how she was turned, how she met Caius, and so on. All the stuffing that could have gone into a half assed OC can be added to Thena, a character with bones who needs meat.

So, tl;dr, Emily is the defacto Twilight OC for me, but any and all energy that I could hypothetically put into a from-scratch character would be much better utilized in giving substance to a character that needs it much more.

Team Henry vs. Team Caius

Oh boy! Well, this is the real question for sure. I knew at some point I'd be asked for my opinion on the matter. And after a long, hard debate with myself, my answer is...

I can't pick.

I know, it's such a cop-out answer, but I genuinely cannot decide who's the better match for Emily at the end of the day. It's a cliché but it's like asking me to pick a favorite child. They both have pros and cons, and it's a completely subjective opinion based on the individual which of those pros and cons hold more weight. For example, I know you seem to prefer Emily with Henry for any number of reasons, meanwhile my best friend has a certain preference for her being with Caius for other reasons.

In an ironic twist, this is my Team Edward or Team Jacob in more than just the love triangle object. When it came to Bella, Jacob was the childhood friend who came with what was familiar and Edward was the vampire who came with the family that Bella had lacked to a certain degree.

Sound familiar?

For me, my preference changes with my mood on the situation, and that mood can change in seconds, back and forth.

Sometimes I re-read His Tenebris Moenibus or the other associated one shots and I feel like the absolute worst for taking away, quote, "the only thing [Henry's] ever loved" and how he wants to reshape the world for both of them just so he can make Emily truly happy because of that love he has for her. And I made her break it off with this man because I got the urge to create chaos?? The trauma bonding, the shared goals and ideas, the willingness to literally destroy the world for each other, it's endearing.

And then I take a look at the other side of things. I sometimes forget the base level circumstances as to how this happened in the first place because, to me, Emily falling in love with Caius also has a certain natural way about it. It feels like a legitament, viable option. Similar to Emily and Henry, they're damaged individuals who help each other essentially patch each other up. I think the only reason this fact can fall through is the fact that I just haven't been able to show just how badly Thena's death had affected Caius before Emily showed up since one, the aforementioned under-developing of their characters and relationship by proxy, and two, it's very hard to not only create that from scratch, but blend that in when I have to balance so many other more important plot threads.

Not only that, but as I said, Caius came with a family, something Emily's been without but secretly longed for. She has so many siblings and friends, "more than [she] know[s] what to do with," who help support her and provide a different sort of love to her. Aro's her strange older brother who she fights with, sure, but also sees somewhat of herself in (namely the fact that they're both batshit insane at times and have... spotty pasts). Sulpicia's her matronly sister who in many ways is a rock for Emily to keep her from going too wild, but also can act as another woman who can understand her. Marcus is... just there, unfortunately. He has his own issues and typically Emily's too haywire to pay much attention to him.

And the Guard of course! Her relationship with Jane is I think what Emily wanted her relationship with Eleven to be like. Even if Jane is much older technically, their older/younger sister type bond is incredibly special to Emily, Alec is just a bonus. And we have characters like Heidi, who help Emily branch out and be her own unique self or even yet unseen dynamics with Felix or Demetri. It's a whole support system and Caius is just the cherry on top, someone who genuinely cares for her and wants her to be her best self... even if they light things on fire along the way.

Now as for what Emily thinks...

I think like me, she's not entirely sure who she truly prefers at the end of the day. She knows and understands everything that I said a second ago, just much more personally which makes it an even harder choice.

What I do know is that she never regrets the relationships she had with either of them. She knows they both provided things she needed and she helped them in her own ways as well. Though, and I've said this before, when Emily's with Caius, a small part of her always will long for Henry because of the fact that she's essentially frozen in time still feeling that love for him. Nothing is going to change that. So by proxy sometimes she feels regret for leaving him, but that's not mutually exclusive to also regreting her relationship with Caius. She can regret leaving Henry while also being very happy as she is with Caius at the same time.

Caius also knows that Emily has this deep seeded love and longing for Henry and he will never ever try to erase that. He knows how much Henry meant to her and will never ever say Emily should never have been with Henry. He knows she loves him, and she also loves Henry. He can live with that.

I can't exactly speak on Henry's feelings since I don't exactly know what they are. That's not me just avoiding the question. Since I don't have season 5 to guide me, I don't know how his story wraps up. It seems odd considering this is fanfiction so why should I care about canon, but I feel like I need to know how Henry's story wraps up in season 5 so I know how it wraps up when Emily is with him, and then I have to remove her from that new equation. I'm making it harder than it needs to be, but that's how my brain is choosing to operate.

At least in part though, he feels like if she's happy, then he's happy. In a way, he did give her happiness like he promised, now that I think of it that way.

Some other possible Jamie Variants?

As I said, this story was very curaited to pitting Caius against Henry because that's just how it developed from the start. But I have thought about this question a little bit since clearly Emily Has A Type, so why shouldn't we think about Jamie's other characters?

I think the next most likely candidate would be Jace. Personality wise, he and Emily have similarities. Their snark, their I'll say off-putting demeanors, among other things. That, and their aesthetics are similar. Emily's got tattoos and dresses alternatively, same as Jace. Plus, I think Emily would also be Jace's type since Emily and Clary have some similar traits like their red hair colors and brown eyes.

The primary problem I see with this is kind of a big one, though. Jace is a part-angel demon hunter. Emily is quite literally, for all intents and purposes, a demon. It would make for an interesting variant of the "two lovers on opposing sides of a war" trope, but that seems like a reaaaaaalllllly hard thing to bypass... oh but goddammit Emily as a Shadowhunter sounds like such a badass concept.

SHIT

I'm gonna move on.

Sweet little Anthony Hope I feel like is a much lower candidate. Emily doesn't quite fit in his world, nor does Anthony fit in hers. Emily's far too much of a psychotic bitch for him. Plus, this would have to be like, a younger version of Emily since in Diplopia (our baseline), she's 38, a whole 20 years Anthony's senior. That, and there would also have to be time travel used since Sweeney Todd takes place 159 years before that. I shouldn't really factor in these logical aspects since nothing about Diplopia was logical in the first place, but I can't help consider it.

They don't seem that compatable to me. Anthony should just stick with Johanna.

This one is more for fun, but let's analyze Kit Marlowe. I'll get the obvious out of the way, but there's a slim chance Kit would even be looking in Emily's direction in the first place. If we bypass that, I feel like if we put these characters on a spectrum of hypothetical compatability, Kit would be somewhere in the middle. He and Emily have some similarities, but I feel like if they spent too long with each other, they'd butt heads often. Emily's clingy and Kit pushes people away. That's not very conducive to a good relationship. But they do have a shared interest in more macabre things and both see themselves as damned and irredeemable creatures.

If I'm being honest, the most likely outcome for this, provided Kit is willing to have relations with women in the first place, is a friends with benefits situation more than anything.

In fact, let's have fun. If we put Henry and Caius on a shelf and let Emily play the bachelorette, we have a very clear cut game of Fuck, Marry, Kill for her. None of the options are perfect like with most games of FMK, but if we really break it down, Emily would...

Fuck Kit, Marry Jace, Kill Anthony

But I feel like now is a good time to mention that at certain spots in Diplopia and Necrosis, you can see small influences and references to these other characters.

Emily mentioned a girl from Saint Valentina's that she lit the mattress of on fire. Her name was Clarissa and she "thought she was basically an angel" which is me referencing Clary, and Jace by proxy.

This one is more loose, but to a certain degree, on Caius' part, I feel like in his mind there's a certain "I'll steal you, Johanna" element to how he feels when first meeting Emily. You can take that as you wish, but Johanna was the first "Every Breath You Take" regardless of who's singing it, iconic and adorable as that scene is.

Lastly, this is moreso in Necrosis, but I very specifically call out how in one scene Caius is wearing a black dress pants and a black Elizabethan blouse that was open in the front with his hair slightly wavy and touching his shoulders. This is me describing Kit Marlowe in essence, specifically that scene when he's talking to Will about ambitions and then they kiss (jcbbby would know what scene I mean for sure). Frankly, the Twilight budget was strained when it came to wigs, especially in Breaking Dawn for the Volturi, but to me, if you made Kit's hair Targaryen silver-blonde and he had the red eyes of course, that's my ideal Caius, full stop.

In a few ways I tried to make Diplopia/Necrosis a sort of melting pot for Jamie characters, some elements more subtle than the others, so if you really think about it Emily gets to have all these characters.

And all of this is without mentioning the fact that Emily is also attracted to women, but that's a conversation for another day.

***

Phew, that was a lot! Thanks for the ask and I hope this isn't too exhaustive of a read!

#let's see i think this took me about three hours or so to complete #fishgills speaks #asks #oc asks #writing asks #stranger things oc #twilight oc #fishgills on diplopia #beloved mutuals #my inbox is open

[finlizziah]

hi i have a question about something and you're the first person who does it i could find, so. why do you reblog posts and tag them as #r/196 when the original post had nothing to do with the subreddit? and i don't mean this to be like rude or anything—you're not doing anything wrong—i'm just curious to know why because i've been seeing a lot of people doing it lately and i'm confused

Oh yes so, i tag a lot of posts with #196 #r196 #r/196 #/r/196 and #rule since they all are related to the shitposting subreddit, from what I can tell those tags are for shitposting, its like sharing stuff with other people from the community i grew up with.

196 itself doesn't have a theme, sure the community is quite queer, but it's never been specifically just memes or queer stuff, to me its about sharing stuff you see, maybe some of it isn't as interesting, but I feel like I'm sharing what I find with other people, that someone might find one of my reblogs from the tags and sees what I saw.

Perhaps it's just wishful thinking or not how it works, but it's something I just like doing. Idk if this answered your question since my minds always all over the place, but I hope it's at least clarified something if its understandable at all?

[zeroducklings]

THIS BLOG IS BEING DECOMMISSIONED

Tumblr keeps flagging my posts without a reason so it's useless to post here. If you want to follow my stuff you can find me @zeroducks-2 . Stay handsome!

Hello there, I'm Zero - welcome to my pond! I'm ZeroDucks4 on Twitter and Zero_Ducks on AO3. You can find all my links here.

I'm currently hyperfixating on DCU/Batman fandom, specifically Sladick. What you'll find on this blog is going to be Sladick, batfamily (pseudo-incest or just wholesome), some memes and shitposting. My favorite hobbies are being gross to Dick and slutshaming that old man babygirl. I'm mostly for the classic "top Slade/bottom Dick" dynamic, but I don't mind a little bit of role reversal from time to time :) Also I like both dark/fucked up things and fluff/wholesome things, so you'll find a mix of both here.

I love all DC ships, just not equally! Almost nothing grosses me out and I don't have NOTPs, so know that you can find just about anything here, only the majority will be Sladick.

I reblog nsfw, so if you're interested, make sure you have mature content visible on Tumblr's settings or you won't see half of my posts.

If you are a minor, or you are uncomfortable with big age-gaps, rape/non-con and kinky stuff in general DNI or just block me. Just to be completely fair and clear:

I like dark stuff & I will post/reblog it

I'm queer, polyamorous, and a bitch who does their own thing & is interacting with fandom stuff cause real life sucks. It is not in my interest to directly engage with fandom discourse because I don't have the energy for it, but my stance is that if you can't make a difference between reality and fiction, and you feel the need to personally attack people who dabble in content that makes you feel uncomfortable, block me ASAP because there's a high chance you won't like what I do.

I don't bother writing out under every post the classic "I don't condone this in real life!1" because I feel it's unnecessary - I assume that who follows me has enough critical thinking skills to not need a reminder, but in case you do you can have it here: I don't condone any fucked up fandom thing in real life, this is fiction, we're just having fun. Again if you don't manage to grasp this then please kindly block me.

Last but not least - this blog really hates capitalism, terfs, swerfs, all flavors of queerphobes, ableists and exclusionists of any kind.

Again if any of the aforementioned bothers you on any level, do unfollow/block me and let's all keep conducting our peaceful existences away from each other.

If you decide to stay - feel free to send me asks, whether it's questions, art/fanfiction requests, or if you want feedback on something you wrote. I can't guarantee I'll be able to create some art/writing for you, but I really appreciate it 💚 💛 (pro-tip: if it's Sladick it's more likely that I'll do it!) You can also send me hate if that's your thing, I won't kinkshame you I promise.

I have an ongoing challenge which I call the "fluff/dark prompts challenge" for lack of a better name, and it basically goes like this: you send me a prompt, specify if you want it Sladick or Sladejay (or Sladickjay why not), and I'll write both a fluff and a dark version of said prompt :) If you wanna try your hand at this yourself feel free to do so, no need to ask for permission! Just let me know if you feel like it, so I can send you prompts too :D

I use this blog to share my fanfiction and fanart; if you're curious I'm leaving here some suggestions and personal favorites.

(Please be safe and always check tags and warnings before reading)

Fluff/Dark Prompt Challenge:

Slade taking a contract on Dick | SladexDick

You're going to get yourself hurt | SladexDick

Fanfiction:

Going Under | SladexDick | Explicit | Non-Con, Underage, Omegaverse | Oneshot (will have a sequel)

A Lost Pup | SladexDuke | Explicit | Underage, Omegaverse | Oneshot

It only takes one bird to deliver a message | SladexDick | Non-Con, Underage | Oneshot

Sladick Connected Fics | A series of stories that explore Dick and Slade's growing relationship. All the fics varies in themes. kinks, and ratings.

Dispatch | RomanxDuke | Mature | Non-Con, Underage, Gunplay | Oneshot

Sell me the Infection | Sladex Dick | Mature | Non-Con, Vampire!Au, Blood | Multichapter (ongoing)

Killer Deal | SladexTim, RomanxTim, SladexDick | Non-Con, Underage, Forced Feminization, Misgendering | Oneshot

His Ghost in the Fog | DickxUltraman | Explicit | Non-Con, Drugged Sex, identity Porn | Oneshot

Fanart:

The Clean Up

Dick in lingerie

Vampire!Dick 01 | Vampire!Dick 02

Vampire!Dick 03 | NSFW

Sell me the infection | NSFW

You were always the Trophy

Mask off!

Sladick Sketch dump

Sladick plus chains

He wants to order

Sladick naughty bedtime | NSFW

Free to use Kink List

#introduction #zeroducks #my fanfiction #my art #this is a pinned post

[tenelkadjowrites]

the hongmullet needs to come back seriously 😭 mullets and wolf cuts became popular so i guess that's the reason lots of newer fans love it! as they should. hongjoong the trendesetter, lol.

twt is a cesspool so i barely used it nowadays, can't say shit on there without people twisting your words. i would say that there's a thin line and many people masquerade themselves as heavily biased, but they're in fact solo stans, i met a few and they definitely lack self-awareness. i think it's fine to be a solo FAN, but a STAN is too much. there are a few idols i really like, but unfortunately their group don't interest me, so i'm a fan, but not a hardcore one.

honestly you're not the only one who exclusively/primarly writes for specific member(s), and it's okay. i also noticed less and less people take requests, cause it can be overwhelming. awww, the numbers can be a lot, but you deserve them! i noticed you don't talk a lot about yourself which is okay, but i'm glad this account opened you up a bit so you could meet some nice people.

omg, you've already posted the christmas fic! and excuse me not hwa jerking off in someone's house with the door ajar, and stealing a dress huh? 😳 man violated that piece of clothing lol! anyways i thought it would be a one shot, so i'm pleasantly surprised and looking forward to the next part

i'd die if hj brought back the mullet but he doesn't seem to revisit hairstyles so i think the chances are pretty low. and for my own mental health, i kinda hope seonghwa doesn't ever dye his hair red again because he had red hair for like ten seconds and i ended up writing addicting kitten cuz of it and my life still hasn't known peace lol. i associate hwa's red hair with that fic so much that i've never written another fic where he has red hair lmao.

i have a lot of friends on twitter so i use it to talk to them/shitpost with them but i don't use it nearly as much as i used to because it's just a total drain. it's funny cuz now i prefer tumblr over any other social media site because it feels the most laid back. on twitter, its just like you can't say even the most normal shit without pissing someone off. did you see that tweet where a woman just shared her joy at drinking coffee every morning with her husband and got a ton of hate tweets sent her way? like wtf.

i don't take requests cuz i never have a lack of ideas, my problem is i simply have TOO many ideas and not enough time for them all. i also used to freelance write for a long time and had to write what other ppl wanted so fics were a way to write whatever i wanted in a relaxing manner and i just stuck with that. (i stopped freelancing cuz it was a lot of work for shitty pay.)

yeah, i struggle a lot with talking about myself in general and on this account in particular i am aware 99 percent of people follow it just for my smut fics, not because they have any interest in the person actually writing them (which is absolutely fine). i've had some people curious about who is writing these fics and have reached out to me and i've made close friends through their efforts. i also worry if too much of myself is shown, it might interfere with reading the fics. (for ex if i listed off my influences, dived into why i wrote something in a scene a certain way, etc, then the reader might have that in mind when they read something from me and it might cloud the story so i try not to state any of those things unless someone asks directly.)

the christmas fic was entirely supposed to be a one shot. i told myself after arrow to take a break with multi chapter fics for my own sake but of course i ended up with multiple smut scenes for this idea and simply must write them all and now here we are with a three part fic lol sigh. that's how it always goes with hwa.

#asks

[maipareshaan]

Do you find yourself to be blocked by a lot of blogs due to being a hater a lot of the time? I support you but I'm curious

Lol, i had a blog in 2020, i already had an account from years ago but i never used it, i guess i just created it when i was seraching how to have a blog or something, so i never saw fandom before 2020. I started seeing posts to see Dean and D*bb era hate bcz my binge was stalled and i guess i just wanted to see stuff, bcz C*rver era made me feel like i was losing my mind and then D*bb era was just insufferably bad quality, then i became active on tumblr to see and make memes mostly, i love shitposts and crack. Mostly i was very fascinated by fandom bcz what a shitshow, truly unique, iconic.

Anyways as you can see the hate content i seeked coupled with being voyeuristic of fandom meant i was um an acquired taste.

Not sure how to make this short but i guess circle wise i was more in those wanky sam stan circles then i kinda turned on them bcz god they are so whiny and i am more bronly anyways and proship.

Anyways anon i was blocked by 98% of fandom, the most unblocked subset would be the bronly/w*ncest (i * cuz i don't want things in search btw) Sam circle.

Currently afaik i am only blocked by 1 blog, its mainly bcz i am very lowkey, i do not follow active blogs and i try to keep posts out of tags, and also i would like to think i am fairly sane and balanced currently.

Also i would say being a hater is like okay depending on what, but take responsibility for it, especially if its something like fixated character hate or strong opinions, like don't make your feelings the problem of other people mainly and don't do moral wank about it, and other people are valid to block you if they don't want negativity. Frankly i am not sure what makes me a hater currently besides my petty problem with D*sticule, if its characters i would not say i am a hater really, i think i talk about characters from a pretty chill place, like me talking about how unsexy a character is is not hate imo but ofcourse its negativity and people would not like that, esp when you see something all the time and its used to make a point as to how better the other characters or that ship is (i don't do that tho ofcourse).

Oh also fyi i never like not even once blocked anyone besides pornbots.

[ectogeo-rebubbles]

Hey! I'm curious, what does your writing process normally look like? So for example how do you come up with ideas and build upon them? Everyone does this differently so I'm curious what this looks like for you! Thanks for entertaining this gay plebian's ask.

Hello, friend, thanks for the ask!!!! <3

I get ideas and inspiration from a ton of places! Main sources: other fanworks (art and fics and amvs and meta and shitposts...), discussions with friends, sitting down and closing my eyes and thinking "hmmmm what would be an extremely silly scenario I could make my faves have to deal with?", trying desperately to sleep and instead having intrusive fic thoughts, rewatching DS9 eps and trying to figure out the absolute minimum that would have to change/occur in order to get any given characters to kiss during or after the events of that episode...

As for the rest of the writing process, it varies a little bit but generally starts with me writing down bullet points about the key details/plot points of the fic (and I gotta do this quick, before I forget!). Then I start writing prose from whatever is the earliest point in the fic that is calling out to me, screaming to be written (and go back and fill in more setup later if it needs it), to get my momentum going. Or sometimes a part of the outline gets a little out of hand and turns into pseudo-prose bc I can't contain my excitement about that one bit, so I start by cleaning that part up and writing that part of the scene out while it's clear in my mind how I want it to go. Often my multichapter fics start with one chapter or moment clearly in my mind, and I have to, like, extrapolate the rest of the plot from there (which I sometimes do not figure out until a few chapters into the fic lmaooo! I cannot recommend highly enough starting a multichapter fic with a solid premise but no idea where the fic will go, and then coming up with the full outline only after you get your bearings by posting a few chapters hahahaha).

As I write, I skip over hard parts or stuff I haven't figured out yet and leave placeholder notes for myself. Then, after I've jumped around and written all the parts I'm excited about (which usually happens at about 75% of the eventual total word count of the fic), begins the less fun task of connecting/rearranging the disparate chunks and editing them for flow, internal consistency, and characterization lol. Well, I shouldn't say less fun, sometimes it's very fun and it can feel like solving a satisfying puzzle, but usually this part is much, much harder for me than the initial drafting stage (but it's usually a necessary step, for me anyway, bc I cannot ever seem to write fics from beginning to end without skipping over stuff, and usually my idea of how things should happen in the fic changes constantly).

Also, woven throughout all of this process is the CRUCIAL step of inundating my friends' DMs with my unhinged fic thoughts, and brainstorming solutions to plotholes/characterization issues with them, and testing out ideas/snippets on them, haha! I LOVE this part of writing tbh, the part where you tell people what you are writing (or simply what you want to write) and they say "bestie you are insane" and egg you on! ^_^ <3

#asks #about me #about my writing

[eldritch-spouse]

i love your art so much - also while english may not be your first language you speak it extraordinarily well - not to mention you're super funny too??? super curious what santi looks like and think lynchpin is a+++++

Jesus lord, you anons really know how to give a girl those endolphins everyone's talking about, the sarah tonins and such... I've been staring at this ask for a couple of minutes trying not to melt into a sniffling puddle. I'm grateful my stupid little shitposts make people happy, and truly- My goal is often to make others chuckle with some of this stuff, so it really makes me happy to know you're having fun.

As for my english, I'm honestly really flattered (wow), never underestimate the power of a stubborn kid trying to watch foreign cartoons. I thought I'd be less coherent to most people actually...

Santi generally looks like this:

You can see more of him in this post and this one too. His design has changed ever so slightly but it vastly remains the same.

Also, sorry if I'm having a particularly intense brainfart, but I don't recall ever calling one of my characters "lynchpin" so I'm not sure what you're referring to... I don't know, maybe I'm just blanking right now.