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just-french-me-up · 2 days
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“The Kiss” but as dreamling
{from last year}
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just-french-me-up · 2 days
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just-french-me-up · 3 days
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Art school AU again 🔨
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just-french-me-up · 5 days
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my brain, my logic - You have so many good omens WIPS you need to finish - me - DREAMLING JEALOUS, DREAMLING MERMAID AU, DREAMLING JOKES, DREAMLING - my brain - I fucking hate you
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just-french-me-up · 6 days
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just-french-me-up · 7 days
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just-french-me-up · 7 days
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🐟🥣
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just-french-me-up · 8 days
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(bangs fist on table) i want him sweaty, whimpering, overstimulated, moaning, sniffling, twitching, squirming, whining, gasping, bucking his hips, drooling, begging (swipes papers onto the floor)
NOW
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just-french-me-up · 8 days
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just-french-me-up · 8 days
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anyway the actual point of fandom is to inspire each other. reading each other's fics and admiring each other's art and saying wow i love this and i feel something and i want to invoke this in other people, i want to write a sentence that feels like a meteor shower, i want to paint a kiss with such tenderness it makes you ache, i want to create something that someone else somewhere will see it and think oh, i need to do that too, right now. i am embracing being a corny cunt on main to say inspiring each other is one of the things humanity is best at and one of the things fandom is built for and i think that's beautiful
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just-french-me-up · 9 days
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I somehow had never heard the english dub of Howl's Moving Castle and... they truly went Tumblr Sexyman voice on Howl didnt they
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just-french-me-up · 9 days
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just-french-me-up · 9 days
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I’m not good at backgrounds but I gave it my best ( ̄▽ ̄)
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just-french-me-up · 9 days
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I cannot believe there's absolutely no way to watch free shows and movies anymore, there are too many paid streaming platforms and pirating websites have viruses and ads preventing you from watching it uninterrupted((.)) id rather follow the rules and purchase media moving forward because it is too inconvenient. Seriously, free and no ads or viruses with 1080p streaming is DEAD.
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just-french-me-up · 10 days
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hurt/comfort you say?
I'm a sucker for party or parties unknown trying to (re)capture Dream or otherwise damage/control him and Hob going absolutely feral to protect him... but what if Hob gets badly wounded protecting Dream and Dream has to take care of him....
I know it's not a new idea but..... I love it...
omg yes i love it. a classic
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Hob hadn't thought you could die in dreams.
Okay, you could die, but you didn't actually, well, die. You just woke up in a cold sweat feeling all discombobulated until it faded to a distant bad feeling and then nothing.
Figures he'd only learn otherwise now.
(Really should have paid more attention when Dream kept telling him dreams are real, Hob.)
Fucking figures.
He gasps awake in his bed with a whole sword still stuck through his chest, and then immediately checks back out again. Happens when you've got a sword through your aorta. When he comes back to life, Dream is standing above him, holding the bloody sword flat on his palms. The blade, the murderous expression on his face, the hallway light haloing his hair makes him look like a holy executioner.
Hob's heart is still pumping blood all over the bedsheets. "Dream, the fucking--" he starts trying to say, then just checks out again.
When he wakes again, Dream is gone, and Hob feels speared through the heart in another way entirely. Take a sword through the chest saving a bloke's eternal existence and he just dips out? But no, that's not like him, not anymore--
Then he's gone again, and when he wakes, this time--
--Dream catches him.
"Wha--? Dream?" Everything feels muzzy, and he shakes his head to try to clear it. This... isn't his bedroom. He's lying propped up against Dream's chest, Dream's arms wrapped around him, one hand pressed to the hole in his chest-- to where there was a hole in his chest, it doesn't seem to be bleeding anymore. "Where are we?"
"Don't pay attention to it," Dream says, voice close to Hob's ear. This of course makes Hob want to pay attention to it, but whatever's around him, the sort of nebulous impression of lack of place and vaguely unsettling haze, hurts to look at. Dream tuts in disapproval when he tries to turn. "This is an in-between space. Not for your mind to perceive."
"Great. In between where, exactly?" Hob tries to push himself up, but a bolt of pain to the chest has him collapsing back into Dream's arms.
"Between sleep and waking," says Dream. "Do not move."
Hob's not moving again. His breath wheezes. He feels like there should be a sword stuck through his chest, and there isn't, but he keeps trying to breathe around it. No, wait, Dream took the sword out. "Did I die or not? I thought I died."
Now there's a crease of pain in Dream's voice. "Temporarily."
A shiver of unease runs through Hob. "Dream, you're... not supposed to be able to die in dreams, right? For real?" He's not sure what it means. If his deal with Death extends to whatever kind of soul-death they might be talking about that could happen in the heart of the Dreaming.
"Not in a way that carries through to the waking, but you so love to defy precedent," Dream says, teeth gritted, and Hob feels him shudder, and his hand on Hob's chest grows warmer, like he's... channeling power? "Admittedly, the spell they used to ensnare me had unforeseen effects on the Dreaming."
"Okay." Fuck, he's tired. Too worn out for this questioning. He leans his head against Dream's shoulder. Nice to touch him like this, even considering the circumstances.
"I am unmaking the dream," Dream says, "hence, this liminal space. You have already brought it with you to the waking and so it can no longer be easily reabsorbed into the Dreaming."
"Yeah, I noticed all the blood." He shudders, eyes falling shut. Still as tired as if his body is expelling all its blood somewhere down... wherever. "I saved you though, right? I killed that guy before they could finish the spell?"
"Yes." Dream strokes a hand through Hob's hair, a gentle touch. His voice is softer when he speaks again. "You saved me."
"Good." That's all that matters, in the end. Hob'll live. Always does.
He's... slipping, again, he can still sense Dream's hands on him, but it's distant. "Will I remember it, if you unmake the dream?" he asks. He wants to remember it. Saving Dream, and Dream's hands on him so gently. Even if it means also remembering the slide of the sword between his ribs.
Dream hesitates. "I--"
Hob wakes up.
Again.
In his bedroom this time. He comes to wakefulness groggily, spreads his hands on the sheets. They're dry, no blood--
He shakes himself. What is he saying, blood? Why would there be blood? Fuck his head hurts. And God he had a strange dream--
There's a sword lying across the foot of his bed.
A proper longsword, the metal gleaming unnaturally bright. Hob reaches for it, mesmerized, and as his hand closes around the hilt, a voice comes from his side.
"I thought you might like it for yourself."
Dream. He's perched beside Hob on the bed, looking strained and tired. Reflexively, Hob rubs at his chest with his free hand. Nothing there.
But when he meets Dream's eyes, he catches a feeling in them. A fragile awe. A hunger. He catches it and while the exact details won't come back, he feels the moment, the killing blow, the one that he'd struck and the one that had struck him. And Dream, holding him close after, trying to make it right.
He lets go of the sword -- it doesn't turn back into sand, surprisingly -- and takes Dream's hand instead. Dream watches him, utterly still, then says, "You saved me."
"I know." He knows, even if he can't remember the exact detail of it. Dream did... something to make it sort of not have happened, except it did happen. Sort of. "Course I did." It happened because of course it happened.
"Of course," echoes Dream. And then a tiny smile blooms on his face.
And, of course, Hob chases that smile until they're kissing.
He's not quite managed the boldness to kiss Dream before now. But the echo of Dream's hands in his hair and his palm pressed firm over his heart gives him courage. And it feels so right it's like it's already happened, only he knows it hasn't, he would remember that.
Well, maybe it's happened in his dreams.
Now, he kisses Dream, leaning in, and Dream cradles the back of his head, fingers digging into his hair. He kisses Dream.
And this time he doesn't wake up.
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just-french-me-up · 10 days
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why do you think it's so common for writers to insert themselves into their stories?
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I don't know.
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just-french-me-up · 10 days
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everyone: what's your goal in life?
me: to write a story so soul snatching, so gut wrenching and so devastatingly beautiful that it leaves you crying at 3am when you have a 8am lecture/shift and it inspires people to write entire essays, to write entire fanfics, mood boards and playlists based on it.
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