#i can dream haha

[kirkhammr]

i love u...scary guys

#i keep having dreams about a bg3 durge dlc where u atcually play though the raiding of the mephistar vault and its been haunting me sooo bad #i can only think about those damm. CHOSEN 3 now...I GUESS👹 #bg3 spoilers #my art #bg3 #baulders gate 3 #enver gortash #lord enver gortash #orin the red #the dark urge #durge #durge x gortash #< implied at least haha #bhaal #suggestive

[samd1o1]

Hear me out; New crack ship?

#You know they'd be besties #Isn't Noxus coming to Arcane Season 2? #Haha what if? Jk unless? #Yeah I know it can't happen #But I can dream #Jinx #Briar #Arcane #League Of Legends #Jinx Arcane #Briar League Of Legends #Jinx League Of Legends #LoL

[hypostatic-oath]

I've started playing Honkai Star Rail and I love how dramatically silly it lets me be. So far I have stolen mail, searched garbage cans, entered a closet to become one with the darkness, waxed on about how life is just a road to death to a terrified guy (somehow that seemed to make him less terrified), bowed in respect to a dumpster, investigated an inconspicuous lamp so many times it got mad at me, investigated a trash can so many times it insulted me, and felt bad for two different trash cans and several sandbags (I believe my Trailblazer is going insane from putting up with me). All this not counting with the countless dialogue options with NPCs around the world that allowed me to be incredibly dramatic (think almost Fischl style) for no reason (you can bet I took them). However, I cannot jump or climb, and fights are turn-based... we respect our opponents in Star Rail (and die. A lot).

What I conclude from this is that while the Traveler has a moral code (and some standards) when dealing with interpersonal interactions but isn't bound by physical restrictions or conventions (stairs? The Traveler does not understand that concept. Fair fights? Please, they don't have time for that), the Trailblazer is the exact opposite. The physical rules may hold them but their only ties to social rules or convention so far have been March and Dan Heng saying "hey, maybe don't fight the guards" and "hey, you can't just accept random jobs".

It also might be because the Traveler is a thousand year old entity that has been through A Lot (has learnt the power of friendship, but is too tired to take the long route) and is on a serious mission while the Trailblazer was quite literally Born Yesterday with the sole purpose of housing a massive problem inside their body (walks and fights like a Normal Person bc they're mimicking everyone else, but is absolutely unhinged) and is just having fun with tjeir newfound existence.

Either way I love both of them and they're basically cryptids but in different ways.

#the Traveler gives off ''i'm too old for this'' enegry but also ''If I don't fix it who will'' #while the Trailblazer is the most chaotic neutral mf I've ever seen and I love them so much #hoyoverse mcs my beloved #When I started genshin I expected a soft game with silly moments and was instead met with pain #Also I love how powerful the traveler has become (I like to believe they're just recovering the power they used to have) #The Traveler holds the braincell between these two btw #I want to understand Star Rail lore better so I can write smth abt the two of them meeting in like a dream sequence kind of thing #when I started genshin I expected haha funny colorful game but was met with pain and post-apocaliptic worlds and cataclysms #when I started star rail I expected pain and apocalyptic worlds and cataclysms and was met with THE ABILITY TO BE SILLY #I CAN HIDE IN CLOSETS #fun fact: i started playing both games for the Hot Dragon Men #also: in mondstadt there's a goth hotel (the hotel is named goth but doesn't seem to have ties to goth culture) #and in star rail there is a goethe hotel that is pronouced rather similarly. both are family establishments and both are ran by an old man

[feroluce]

Lucid Dreamer (1/2)

part 2

Gepard notices that it's been. Quiet lately. Like weirdly quiet. TOO quiet. He hasn't seen Sampo Koski in almost a week, which is about the longest he's ever been absent. And he is NOT worried. He's not! So what if they've been getting along more lately! So what if Gepard sometimes looks for him in his favorite hiding places! So what if he's been dreaming about blue hair and green eyes! It's nothing!!

But they're….strange, these dreams. Gepard doesn't usually remember what he's dreamt. It's out of his mind seconds within waking up. But these stick with him, they won't leave him be, they feel different somehow.

He dreams of Sampo bringing food to the frontlines and eating breakfast in his tent with him. Sampo always sneaks him extras. He dreams of chasing Sampo through the alleyways, Sampo sometimes letting himself be caught, Gepard sometimes catching him, and trying to ignore how it feels more like a game now more than anything else. He even dreams that Sampo tags along with him on one of his few civilian days. Sampo runs errands with him, prattles about inane bullshit while Gepard picks out groceries for the week, drags Gepard into some bakery he's never been to but he thinks Serval mentioned once.

And sometimes, it feels so close to reality, that Gepard half expects to see Sampo, shamelessly swaggering into the frontlines with all the guards' breakfast like his wanted poster wasn't only recently taken off the walls of Belobog. He's disappointed when it's always someone else instead. He tells himself his disappointment is ridiculous and if Sampo wants to go prowl around the Snow Plains or wherever he is, then fine. It's not any of his business.

…But it IS his job to investigate any unusual criminal activity relating to the frontlines. And the frontlines are Sampo's usual haunting grounds, and this is unusual activity, and Sampo IS technically a criminal, so it is absolutely part of his duty to look into this - is what Gepard tells himself the entire tram ride down into the Underground.

Natasha tells him he's gone, and Gepard has to steel himself. He knew Sampo made enemies wherever he went, there are a lot of people who would love his head on a platter, but he didn't think-

Natasha corrects him that she means literally gone. As in off-planet. Sampo always leaves her a note before he goes anywhere, so she knows not to expect any supply runs from him. He should be back in exactly two weeks. Thank the Preservation.

Gepard goes back home. He waits.

The uneasiness doesn't leave him.

"Where did you go?" Sampo stops dead in the middle of some story about Seele, and how you'd think someone with as blunt a mouth as her wouldn't have so much trouble asking a woman out, even if that woman IS the Supreme Guardian, and stares at him. He nearly fumbles his cigarette.

"Ahaha, what do you mean, I'm right here?" Sampo smiles at him the same way he always does. Gepard has no idea why he asked. It just popped out. He can never tell when Sampo is lying, anyway.

"I don't know. I feel like I haven't seen you in a long time." Gepard idly mouths at his own cigarette. He almost never smokes, but he wants to ration their stocks of Blizzard Immunity, and it helps with the cold. It's seemed colder lately, for some reason.

Gepard flicks his lighter once, twice, sighs at the third time because a metal prosthetic and thick gloves make the damn things so difficult. Sampo reaches over and wordlessly kisses the end of his cigarette to Gepard's, lighting it. "Thank you."

Nothing happens for almost a full 30 seconds. Something churns behind Gepard's ribcage. Because Sampo never leaves a "thank you" hanging. This is the part where he gives his spiel about how helpful and kind he is and Gepard either brings up how long his rap sheet was before Bronya helped clear his name, or just stares deadpan because seeing Sampo squirm is weirdly satisfying.

"…I'll be back in one more week."

Gepard jolts awake in his cot, mouth dry and eyes bleary.

The hell.

The next dream he has, Sampo looks tired. Sometimes he seems normal. Sometimes he says strange things, like how he wishes he'd gone to some restaurant in Belobog. Ate his favorite food more recently. Brought something with him. Gepard asks why he can't do that now. Where would he bring something? Sampo only shrugs. His rebuttals have less energy.

Gepard doesn't know if he wants to dream more, or less.

He ticks down the days on his calendar. Natasha hasn't told him any different. She promised she would if she got any kind of message. Sampo returns tomorrow, from whatever vacation or seedy business dealings he's been off having. He is not excited about it. He is not looking forward to it. He's not!!

Gepard falls asleep late that night, unable to settle. He dreams again.

He's alone. There are tons of people everywhere, the frontlines are always crowded. But he's alone. They all pass right by him as though he were a ghost. Gepard starts to walk before he realizes his feet are even moving.

He checks the trashcans in the dead end alley. He checks the supply crates that someone always stacks too high because they don't feel like finding more space for them. He pauses to check the soldiers that march past him, watching their footprints in the snow.

He finally finds Sampo on the rooftop along the northernmost wall, the one that looks out over the plains, towards Everwinter Hill, towards where the Stellaron had once been kept. With a full moon and an entire land of white snow, Gepard can almost see clear out to the horizon.

"Found you." Sampo stiffens, and Gepard is almost prepared for him to sprint off the roof. He doesn't. But he doesn't relax either. Gepard sits down next to him and stares out at the wastelands.

"…I fucked up." It wasn't what Gepard had been expecting. Sampo never 'fucks up,' Sampo just gets into incidents that are entirely, supposedly, not his fault and that he just happens to always be within the vicinity of.

"What did you do now?" It must be really bad if Sampo is coming to the Silvermanes for protection.

Instead, Sampo ignores his question completely. "See out over there? Right on the other side of that mountain. There's a safe house that way. It's hidden under a lot of snow and dead trees, but it's there. And in that safe house is a box full of letters. I need you to deliver those letters for me."

Gepard's brow furrows. It's a weird favor to ask. Sampo would never tell anyone where his hidden safehouses were. It defeated the whole purpose of a hidden safe house.

Something is wrong, something is really really wrong.

Gepard turns back to look at him again and startles, all of his questions dying in his throat, because the entire left side of Sampo's head is suddenly matted down, dark and sticky, his skin is dyed red red red-

"In three more months, there's gonna be something big happening." Gepard grabs Sampo's hand and it feels slick and warm against his palm. "I won't be here. So I need you to do my end of things for me." Gepard tries to keep hold, but something is fading, something is slowing, the sun is coming up but the colors are all wrong, everything feels like encroaching fog, Sampo's hand slides right through his. "I was gonna come back with my mask to finish setting the stage, but…" Gepard makes a frantic grab for Sampo's wrist, the air twists, he comes back empty-handed. "They have you. And you're the Iron Wall of Belobog. So it'll be ok."

Gepard finally manages to find his grip, snatches the front of Sampo's dark wet jacket and yanks him forward to hold onto him, and this close up, he can see it better, his colors are bleaching out, leaking outside the lines as if Sampo will become part of the background, as if he's fading into the strange fog that's been closing in on them. His fingers are already starting to feel empty again.

"Wake up."

Gepard jolts awake, uncurls his hands from where they're fisted in the blanket, scrubs the dampness off his face. Breathes. Breathes. Breathes. Today is supposed to be the day.

He throws on his civilian clothes, and he goes down to the shipyard the IPC had built. He finds a spot where he can see every person that returns to Belobog, and he waits.

And he waits and he waits and he waits.

No one he recognizes appears.

#sampard #gepo #hsr gepard #hsr sampo #gepard landau #sampo koski #honkai star rail #hsr #blood #my fics #lucid dreamer #there was more to this but it didn't feel right included here so part 2 tomorrow maybe? #I just think Penacony being the land of dreams presents some FASCINATING possibilities like showing up in other people's dreams #the end of masquerade duet killed me just beat me dead #Sampo going through all this trouble just to protect Belobog... #poor Ray got such an earful that night haha #In the Penacony dreamscape someone can change their appearance however they want but I think in this case where one of the dreamers AREN'T- #-on Penacony it would take more concentration to keep that illusion up #and if someone were say. hurt and badly bleeding. it would start to fall apart eventually as they lost their concentration. #but oh my heart #Sampo being away and missing Belobog so badly he shows up in his friends' dreams just to do the same mundane shit they always do... #He probably showed up to everyone #he sat around and kept Natasha company in her clinic. he pestered Seele until he provoked her into asking Bronya on a date. #he played one last song with Pela and Serval. he told them he'd always kept his old bass guitar. #he took Hook out on one last joyride on his scooter and he even let her sit up front and steer like she'd always wanted. #and he stood around to shoot the shit with Gepard #he got to go do things like run domestic errands together with him. as if they could have been something more than what they were at the en #it was nice to get the chance to do all that #it was nice

[swordfright]

Heyyyy @kayfabeoutcold i'm your gifter for @dreblrsecretsanta this year! The prompt i went with was "christmas in the prison box," hope you like it!!!

#sorry it's a YT link and not directly uploaded to tumblr #i'm working with very limited tech over at my parents' place rn haha #anyway merry christmas happy holidays yeehaw #dream smp #technoblade #c!dream #rivalsduo #dreblr #pandoras vault #WHOOPS SORRY forgot we were supposed to tag #dreblrsecretsanta #my doodles #<- so I can stick this in my general art tag

[saffron-gold-stardust]

It’s possible there’s still someone in there…

…but he’s buried very deep.

Those chains will be hard to break, if he even wants them broken in the first place.

Swapdream original concept by Song_A, og Cross by Jakei95

#utmv #undertale #cross sans #swapdream #dream sans #undertale au #corvus!cross #sgs!swapverse #cross #sketches #saff art #sorry these are so rough #really just kinda formulating ideas #the two drawings featuring SD/helios are one of my earliest and one of my most recent doodles respectively #so you can kinda see how it’s progressed haha #hence the inconsistent scar lol #cross x dream #sourcream ship #i am cringe but i am free #i am fREEE #I literally have no idea how to introduce any of this stuff lmao #just??? have it? here?? #helios!sd #cw eye contact #a lil swan/swap!nm narration

[eightyuh]

(post this is in reference to) (og audio)

#WICK'S END #glendale goodwyn #freya ferguson #glen #freya #oc #can one of u tell me why i made this cus i sure dont know #this is kinda full circle lol in my og dream notes i described glen as a nicer spike spiegal #but i think he's pretty much diverged from that since then haha #omg this just made me remember puppycat's space outlaw form was spike's va aosifdjoaijfdoiasjfoijas <3333333

[lazitoelgato]

Arven/Damián from Pokémon Scarlet/Violet!

Random pictures of my character and Damián (not me, just my character I like to believe he has his own life and I control him like a Sim)

Anyway I love this friend group a lot. Probably my favorite in all Pokemon games, Paldea has this thing that catch your attention with it's happy tone but hides probably the must brutal/cruel/sad character lore hahah.

#Get yourself a giant Pokémon that can provide you Deep Pressure Therapy #All this brainrot bc I dreamed about him haha #Funfact Damián said thay Mabosstiff sheds alot of fur so he's always cleaning his room #pokemon sv #pokemon #Pokémon #pokemon scarlet and violet #pokemon scarlett #Pokemon Scarlet #Arven #arven pokemon #paldea

[bumblingbabooshka]

Harry Kim saying Naomi is lucky to be born on Voyager and that he would have given "anything" to have her life when he was a kid...

#He sees NO downsides???? #Also I love how Neelix was yelling and panicked and Harry was like 'haha ok buddy. Hey this little guy is ugly huh~? See ya later!' #absolutely unbothered and not the least bit curious - love him <3 #saw someone post about how they don't like 'once upon a time' bc Neelix doesn't tell Naomi right away about her mother .... bro. #c'mon. Anyway I love Neelix and him trying so hard to shield Naomi from bad things / upset bc he KNOWS how fucking painful #it is to lose a family DID make me tear up. #Also Naomi in that burned-down forest (symbolic of innocence?) was a kickass visual. Neelix telling her about his family and Naomi trying #to comfort HIM??? SHE'S SUCH A GOOD KID MAN....Neelix making her a flotter doll was also v cute #OH AND Naomi going 'I Am Borg...' and Neelix going '~??? No you're not~!!!' and Naomi giggling...added NOTHING to the #episode - as it should be!! Sometimes you've just gotta have a really cute silly moment <3 #Tuvok: [says something] / Tom: Nice bedside manner Tuvok =_= #Tuvok: [about to say the most beautiful comforting words you've ever heard one parent say to another] And I took that personally. #Love how Naomi is scared of Seven at first...girl that's your roommate. #HEHEH she starts off the series scared of her but by the end she's her little buddy and also her intern #but yeah never forget that Harry Kim can and will say the most unhinged things but so casually that no one will really clock it #NEVER forget that he says he remembers.....either being an infant or his own birth - both WILD to me #Harry Kim lowkey loves destiny and being special and the idea of 'chosen ones' and the narrative even though he will fight it all if it #harms the ones he loves #Harry: (guy from an alternate timeline who replaced the dead Naomi with the alive one from his own) That kid's living the dream <3

[caffeccino]

I got Armored Core brainworms, but I can't just be into the new one.... 🙄🙄

#I like ALL OF THEM AT ONCE #but really looking at AC V #which it turns out is the most mysterious and hard to play of the bunch since it can't be easily emulated #its vibe #hgnnrghghhg #one day... someday #I dream... I'll finish a doodle #caffe personal #perhaps it's that it is so hard to acquire... discs for ac verdict day are like 100$ haha #I want it #I THINK I can download it for 20$ from the microsoft store if I dust of an xbox 360 tho so... maybe :eyes: #watch all the trailers tho and AC V is unique... #it feels like the images out of hte iraq war but with mechas lol #it's spoopy

[jojo-schmo]

This is not a criticism of people who make Kirby merch from memes!

But as someone who likes the entire franchise and it’s many characters other than Kirby, this is simply an observation I’ve made lately as a regular patron of artist alleys in the United States lol

#I don’t even see much Dedede or Meta Knight merch even #I’ve found one Bandana Dee charm in the #past year #maybe I’m going to the wrong conventions haha #but even the event I went to that was specifically kirby themed was maybe 50% edgy kirby memes #and 50% kirby alone on his warp star #I do not enjoy seeing Kirby with human body parts at all tho hahaha #maybe I can fill that market in my local artist events one day hehehe #I would just love to see one Magolor charm in the wild at a big convention in my state #or even one dedede or one dream team! #I haven’t even seen a meta knight yet! much to think about #anyway support your local artists no matter what the product they still work hard to make them!! #jojo rambles #Kirby series #art #kirbysona #tw blood #tw body horror #just in case #ask to tag #:)

[zeb-z]

Cellbit trying so hard to stay level headed and rational and keep shit together, but when Hombre Misterioso comes in with some fuck shit, and he’s not sure if he’s only hearing him inside his head, his response is basically ‘I can and I will out crazy you without hesitation’. He’s like I have done fucked up shit before and I will do it again if you give me an excuse I swear to god. He’s like I’m level headed and reasonable right now with rigid self control, but if you give me a single reason I will kill us both

#Cellbit on his last thread like I can and I will snap and make this your biggest mistake yet jfjskfkd #he’s like lol if you’re really in my head you picked the wrong guy. good luck have fun #Cellbit who is so aware he is capable of just going fucking off the walls like haha! one more thing and I will go off willingly and it will #have repercussions you wouldn’t have even dreamed of :) #pac walking on eggshells but also needing to rely on Cellbit while helping forever like ‘man isn’t it fucked up were the most stable rn’ #he’s very like ‘I’ll light myself on fire to burn you’ kinda energy yknow what I mean #Cellbit a reformed cannibalistic murderer like I have had a fresh start I am a changed man. be careful tho #idk it’s all. his character sure is something lmao #mcyt #qsmp #Cellbit #z speaks

[jungkook97]

fling;; jjk

pairing: canon idol!jungkook x reporter!reader

word count: 4.6k

rating: ma

genre/warnings: romance, angst

summary: you were interviewing bangtan and couldn't help but felt a level of closeness to the youngest member. soon after, jungkook ended up taking a liking to you, proposing that you two should meet up throughout the week while he was in town for a little fun.

notes: this has been a fantasy of mine. it's angst as usual, but it's more so of lost connections that the boys may have upon going on these promo cycles overseas.

this also exists within the decision to leave jungkook fictional universe from the perspective of the reader.

© jungkook97 2023. do not repost or modify. please ask for permission to translate.

You were nervous. Very nervous. 

Your hands were shaking a bit, clammy as you wiped the sweat off on your dress as you checked your Apple Watch for the fifteenth time. It wouldn’t really change anything but more so of a tick that you had whenever you were nervous.

It was the first time you were assigned to interview with an A-list celebrity, or rather, an A-list group. You followed their careers from nearly the beginning, slowly becoming a major fan (minus the unhinged nature of being a stan, of course). It was as if you were living your dreams out in reality, something that you never thought in a hundred years or even this lifetime that you could do.

And so, you held your breath as the time ticked closer and closer to their arrival. The staff had arrived to go over some topics that you couldn’t talk about, the usual: dating, anything super personal, and anything that would be anti-capitalistic (although you had a feeling that some of the members wouldn’t have minded having such conversations). You knew the drill at that point as you zoned off, thinking about how you would be interviewing the biggest band in the world, talking to them and them actually responding back to you in real time. 

It was hard to grasp for you. Like everyone else, you always saw BTS as a group that meets a lot of people every single day, not really being able to distinguish faces or fully pay attention like operating on autopilot. The idea that they would be perceiving you drove you insane as your heart thumped ever so loudly in your eardrums, wondering who you saved in a past life to deserve interviewing a group you admired for so long.

Eventually, the time came to usher them in, and you held your breath in anticipation, continuing to self-soothe yourself by rubbing your hands on your thighs as they walked in one by one, looking exactly the same. You had seen them in concert in the press boxes, maybe a few times up close as a fan, but having them bow to you in greeting…it was a lot.

“H-hi,” you mustered all the courage to start the greeting, meeting eyes with every single member slowly, taking it all in. They responded, leaving your heart leaping for joy and also with an uncomfortable, but not uneasy feeling in your throat. You felt like it caught a mass while you were waiting for them, but you knew it was just simply nerves. “S-sorry if I’m too nervous around y’all–”

All of them started chuckling, with Namjoon putting his hands up in attempt to comfort you (it did a bit). 

“It is totally okay,” Namjoon spoke in his usual deep voice, perhaps an octave lower than you anticipated. “We get this pretty often, actually.”

You flushed in embarrassment, shifting in your seat trying to feel a bit more comfortable. You could feel the heat of all seven of them having their undivided attention to you, and the studio lights being as hot too. You weren’t sure if you were sweating everywhere else, if you smelled, if you shaved enough to get rid of any peach fuzz, or if you put enough makeup to look just as gorgeous as they were.

It didn’t matter anymore. You were in the moment. Too late to go back now.

You took a quick deep breath, exhaling slowly as you heard your cameraperson stating that they were ready to roll. 

“Let’s begin.”

It was easier than expected. Your nerves got the best of you at first as you stuttered the first few questions out before taking a five minute break. It was embarrassing, but the boys understood, trying to coax you and comfort you by stating that they get it often. 

“Yeah, but I didn’t want to be another young fan acting like a high school girl around their crush!” you laughed, wiping your tears away from the welling of tears as you were overstimulated (you had disclosed to them awkwardly about your neurodivergence, something that Yoongi immediately nodded and expressed his understanding much to your surprise). 

“You’d be surprised,” Namjoon reassured, smiling. “There was a male reporter earlier that kept freaking out about Jin-hyung.” 

“Really?” you chuckled as the members nodded in agreement, talking to their oldest in Korean, probably teasing him. You weren’t fluent in Korean, but you could tell from Jin’s red ears that they were making fun of the situation. 

“Yeah, it was funny,” Hoseok said, his light and bouncy voice filling up the room. He had become as fluent as Namjoon was over the past year after having spent a year in the U.S. after his enlistment. “Like, I think he got a…crush?”

“Ey, no~” Seokjin protested, you understand for him to disagree. He spoke some more, in which the interpreter from the earpiece all of you had translated, “He was a fan of all of us.”

“No, I’m pretty sure it was just you,” Hoseok pressed via interpreter. “I can tell he was one of us,” he pointed to him and Jimin (the both of them had come out to the public two weeks ago together as a part of the LGBTQ+ community). 

“A crush, huh? Worldwide Handsome getting everyone!” you laughed as the interpreter did as well, translating for the rest of the team. Everyone agreed, giggling as well. 

“Can we continue?” Namjoon piped in, his index finger imitating an old film camera rolling. You nodded, gesturing to the cameraman to continue.

You and BTS talked about a lot of things at length, questions that you never thought you would ever say to them. Surprisingly, a lot of the more “controversial” opinions got past the company, perhaps from all the work the boys had done to be as transparent to the fans as possible. Most of what you speculated the boys had felt during their hiatus were validated, and some were debunked to your surprise. You were shocked to learn that most of them had a lot of control over their solo activities, if not complete control despite what the conversation was at the time on Twitter. 

Eventually, the boys turned the mic back to you, asking something that caught you off guard.

“We heard you’re a huge fan of Jungkook’s,” Jimin beamed in mischief, nudging the youngest to pay attention. Jungkook had barely spoken at that point, but you had felt his eyes on you the entire time, getting you a bit flustered sometimes. 

Jimin wasn’t wrong. You were the biggest fan of Jungkook’s, mostly ever since his sudden glow-up with his tattoo sleeve. You had a soft spot for the kid (you were a few years older than him), and seeing him grow into this confident and sexy late-20 something was satisfying for you to see. 

“Y-yeah,” you stuttered out, your hands covering your mouth in shock. “How did you guys know?”

“Ah…” Jimin trailed off, looking towards his other members. “I think Namjoon-hyung found your Twitter fan account yesterday?”

Fuck.

“What?!” you exclaimed, standing up. The members cracked up as Namjoon began to protest, putting his hands up. “You stalked me?!” you asked teasingly.

“No! It’s just…” Namjoon started stuttering as well, caught in the act. “I heard from our translator that you were a big fan and so, I did some digging…”

“Well, you did a lot of digging!” you argued back, laughing and flushing madly. You didn’t want to look at Jungkook at this point, although you felt he was embarrassed based on how much he was shifting in his seat from the corner of your eye. 

You felt like you wanted to die. Die in a sense, you now knew that Namjoon saw your unhinged tweets about the group’s maknae. You wondered how far he scrolled down, if he saw your tweets crying about Jungkook’s sparkly ensemble at the last concert stop a few days ago that amassed to tens of thousands of tweets. You wondered how he even found it, considering that you didn’t even follow your fan account on your public one. Maybe you forgot to unlink it on your YouTube account, or maybe you had accidentally shared the numbers on your Instagram. It didn’t matter: Namjoon found it. 

It grew awkwardly quiet, and you could still feel the gaze from the youngest. You were too scared to even look at him. What if he thought you were insane or unhinged? Did Namjoon even show the tweets to him? You were mortified at the thought of him staring in disbelief. 

What was even worse is that he knew before you guys officially met, meaning he had been staring at you the entire time in silence, probably mortified that an obsessed, crazed fan of his was conducting the interview. In fact, it made sense as to why he was so quiet: he probably was judging you for being batshit nuts on your stan account about him. 

“Ah, I shouldn’t have said that,” Jimin sighed loudly, his words being translated. “Now it’s all awkward…” 

“N-no, it’s okay,” you lied, shuffling your interview cards. “I had a feeling you guys have your burner Twitter accounts just watching us,” you squinted your eyes at Namjoon. His cheeks turned red as you did the same, your heart fluttering. 

“It’s just Namjoon,” Hoseok emphasized, even though you knew that to be a lie. “He has too much time in his hands.” 

“Ey, shut up,” Namjoon said in Korean, chuckling. “Well…don’t you want to say something to Jungkook, maybe?”

You blinked.

“Say what?”

He shrugged, smiling. 

“I don’t know, I thought you guys would be the type to want to say something to someone you really admire. I’m sure Jungkook would like to hear from his biggest fan,” he teased. 

You blushed madly, laughing nervously. 

“I didn’t prepare or anything,” you began making excuses, your eyes slowly moving toward Jungkook’s direction to gauge his reaction. It took a few seconds, probably from the interpreter for him to understand what was going on before he sat up straight immediately, clearing his throat. 

“Yeah!” Jungkook exclaimed a bit too loudly, clearing his throat again. “I wanna…hear.” 

The rest of the members echoed the same sentiments. 

“Ah fuck,” you muttered. Not BTS putting you on the spot to confess your feelings. It wasn’t something you really wanted to do in front of the entire group and the crew, but the crew kept pressuring you to do it. After all, it would make great TikTok content. It was then you turned away from the group, just dying from embarrassment. 

“Come on, it would be so cute,” your PD encouraged you. 

“But it’s so embarrassing,” you whined as you flushed wildly, your back toward the group. “I have so much to say.”

“I’m sure Jungkook wants to hear all of it. He seems to really like you!”

Your heart skipped a beat from hearing that. That was true, the group and you kept having great laughs and teases throughout the entire interview. 

“Fine, fine.”

You took a deep breath, nodding towards Nicole, their interpreter. You could see Jungkook leaning in closer as you began. 

“You’ve always been my favorite,” you began. “And uh, I always admired that you always did what you wanted no matter how many people said you shouldn’t. You’re strong and rebellious, something that I admire because I wish I had half of that strength…”

You closed your eyes at this point, your eyes swirling in its eye sockets. You couldn’t believe you were saying this to Jungkook who was right in front of you. For a moment, you forgot that you were interviewing him, that it was a professional setting. You felt like you needed to say all of this, knowing full well how much Jungkook had felt insecure about his image change and how he was being perceived. He was pretty explicit about that in the recent lives you were able to catch, and you wanted to comfort him. 

“And I know that a lot of people have a lot to say about you, and as an older fan, I just want to say…not all of us are like that. I’m not, at least. I want you to be happy, to be loved, to be able to not be restricted by society’s standards. I want you to know that I will always love you no matter what, that you will always be my favorite person. I hope one day, you will find someone or something that will make you feel like home, Jungkook. I want…” 

You swallowed. 

“I want you to be comforted. And unconditionally loved.” 

You sighed deeply, shaking your head as you opened your eyes, looking right at Jungkook. You felt a bit confident after all of that as Nicole continued translating for him. He was listening intently, crossing his arms trying to digest all that you said. 

“Ah…” he vocalized a few times, nodding his head. His eyes grew glassy as he closed his eyes a bit. 

There was silence, this time more comfortable than before. You held your breath in anticipation, wondering how he reacted to that. Was it too much? Were you being a little too extra? 

Fuck, that was too much was it. 

“I’m sorry if that’s a lot,” you blubbered out, putting your hands up in defense. “I…kind of lost myself there.”

A moment of silence for the translations. 

Jungkook laughed. 

“Ah, it’s okay,” he said in Korean. “Uh…”

He smacked his lips together, his eyes looking at the floor sheepishly. He then looked up at you, his eyes sparkling with genuine happiness and joy. 

“Thank you,” his voice echoed in your skull as he thanked you in English. 

You looked away abruptly, your cheeks burning with embarrassment. It was a lot, and you felt like you could die at any moment. 

“Uh, let’s take a break, yeah?” Namjoon piped in. You agreed, taking your lavalier mic off and running straight to the bathroom. 

Or rather, let’s end this so I can die in a corner, probably. 

It wasn’t long until the interview was over, much to your dismay. While it felt like you were floating on clouds, it felt too short, too professional for your liking. 

Ever since your confession though, you felt a pair of eyes intently following your every movement, or so you thought anyways. You never once coded Jungkook’s stare to be intense, but he was quite attentive after your little spiel, nodding and laughing at your jokes (even though it was off by a few seconds for translations). You wished that you were native in your own tongue, but as the interview went on, you surprisingly knew more than you thought, laughing at the supposed inside jokes they had. You guys went briefly over the infamous dumpling incident, which, at this point, had its own lore. 

The boys felt approachable for once, although you knew for quite some time that they would be. You were similar in age with them after all, the same age as Namjoon give or take a few months. It felt like you were talking as friends rather than an actual interview that you were being paid to do. 

Nonetheless, the interview was a success, and you were packing your things up to go home. 

That was, until Namjoon approached you. 

“Hey,” he began, startling you. Your eyes widened at him coming up, being his normal self. 

“Hey,” you managed to say back, trying not to freak out. Is he about to do what I think he’s about to do? “What’s up?”

“Uh…” Namjoon put his hands in his pockets, smiling sheepishly. “I was wondering if you wanna get dinner with Jungkook and I. He told me he really liked your energy today, and was wondering if we could talk more over some food.”

Holy shit. Is this real?

“Uh….” was all your stupid self could say, gawking at him as if he said something completely unintelligible. “Um…”

Say yes, you asshole.  

“It’s fine if you have to like, uh, edit and shit,” he continued, his eyes averting away from you, his voice trailing off. 

Fuck, dude. Say something back. Say YES. 

“Um…” 

Then, you saw Jungkook at a distance, overwatching the whole conversation. His lips were pursed into a pout, his neck extending toward the direction of you two, perhaps trying to hear what was going on. There was no way you could be making this up. Jungkook seemed… interested in wanting to spend more time with you. 

Romantic? Unsure. But definitely interested. 

This wasn’t the first time a celebrity has asked you to dinner (in fact, you were a looker yourself, whether you liked it or not), but with BTS? They were more definitely out of your league. However, you felt like you had been friendly at this point, so why not? 

“Yeah, why not?”

Dinner was a blast. In fact, it was the most fun you ever had. 

While you and Namjoon exchanged even more funnier quips, teases and passionate arguments about life, you and Jungkook sat next to each other, just feeling rather comfortable. It wasn’t to say that you two were feeling each other up, but Jungkook, an avid fan of Namjoon’s, was taking your side the entire time, initiating contact here and there to definitely show more than just platonic interest. You were taken aback at first, recoiling your hand when he “accidentally” brushed his hands against yours, but after a while, you leaned into him, showing your desire to get closer too.

Jungkook wasn’t as shy as you thought he was, and by the time dinner was over, he was playing footsies with you, his shoulder leaning against your own but disguised as him getting a bit too drunk for everyone’s liking (well, Namjoon’s anyways). Namjoon showed signs of feeling like the major third wheel, but he was, after all, the wingman in all of this, awkwardly smiling his infamous smile when he felt out of place. 

“Ah, you guys look really comfortable, huh?” Namjoon pointed the obvious out in his native tongue as you laughed. Jungkook leaned into you as you cupped his face with the biggest grin ever seen. 

“He’s adorable,” you replied back. “Cuter off-camera, if you ask me.”

“Gag,” Namjoon teased. “You guys need a room?”

You were staring into Jungkook’s doe eyes at this point, the chocolate pools of wonder. He was deeply in love, or at least, enamored by your presence. It turned out he was feeling you as well throughout the interview, and something in the air felt right to him. Not per se, bells ringing in his ear (he was past the romanticism), but he wanted more. So much more than what you two could do in front of Namjoon. 

“Can we use yours, hyung?” 

It didn’t take long before you two fucked after Namjoon and the two of you parted ways. In fact, both of you leaped onto each other madly the moment the door closed behind you. Of course, it was met with the typical NDA the morning after, something that you were quite used to at this point. It was a given that your night with him would be done in secrecy and with a contract to never speak of it, but to be honest, you weren’t planning to do that anyways. Jungkook was yours, even if it was for a split second.

“You’re incredibly beautiful, you know,” Jungkook breathlessly said after some time had passed, your bodies entangled with each other under the pillowy white sheets. “I never felt like I could just connect with someone I just barely knew.”

You grinned back, kissing his lips and the rest of his face. 

“Call it karmic,” you replied back. 

Jungkook, not knowing what the word was, leaned back in confusion. 

“Kar…mic?”

“Uh…” you struggled to find the Korean word equivalent, trying to run through your shoddy vocabulary. “Um…it’s like…fate…?” 

You weren’t sure what the word was, although it seemed to be received well with Jungkook. His pupils grew dilated as his mouth relaxed into a comfortable smile. He closed his eyes, leaning against you. 

“Ah…fate, right?”

You blushed wildly. 

“Yeah…fate.”

For the next week, you two met up every night in between your guys’ respective craziest schedules. Thankfully, it was easy because you were able to attend their next show (at the request from the artist, of course). While the others were in the press box though, you were in the family and friends’ box in which Jungkook may or may not have secretly passed by to steal a kiss or a hug. The two of you had agreed that this would be a short thing, nothing too serious. After all, the language barrier was a bit rough, and you two were working professionals. 

However, you couldn’t help but to feel more of a connection besides a little fling because well, both of you were totally into each other. He eventually gave his personal cell (or at least, the U.S. one he used in the States) to text, something that Jungkook admitted he didn’t do often. Adoringly, he had his read receipts on, and it looked like he always checked to see what you wrote, even if it took a good hour or two to respond. 

“I’m getting better at it, okay? Heh,” he would write, sending butterflies in your stomach. He was making an effort, although you can never be sure if he was like this with other people. Not that it mattered, you knew what it was, and you weren’t going to be caught up in it. 

As the days went on, you and Jungkook started sharing intimate details about each other, something that you only had when it was a real relationship. This confused you, but maybe it was because you used to be the only one who did it as a part of the neurodivergence part of your personality. You found out more about his flings, how much he craved for more than just fucking around.

“I don’t know,” he said one night as you brushed your fingers through his hair, his face buried deep into your chest. “I feel like…you know, I want something more with all of these people. Like…I’m wasting my time whenever I do these things, but…I can’t help it. How can I find someone when I’m Jungkook of BTS?”

It was a lot to take in, but you took it on like a champ. There were thoughts that you wondered what Jungkook would think about, and it felt unreal that he could say all of these things to you in the comfort of his hotel room, away from all the lights and the glitz and the glamour. In this moment, in this scene in your guys’ story together, he was yours. 

“Do you want more?” you asked quietly. You weren’t sure as to what you were saying, but it felt right to ask. 

He shifted his head and moved it up to see yours, closing the gap between you two. 

“Always. I always want to be loved unconditionally.” 

It was getting complicated, fast. 

You weren’t sure how to end it. In fact, time was ending it for you. It was Jungkook’s last day in the States, and it seemed like Jungkook suggested you go on tour with him for the next stop, Central America. While you weren’t entirely opposed to it, you knew where this was going. Last time, a celebrity had suggested that you to do a documentary film on them, and while you were flattered, it was just another way to keep you around at their convenience. 

It wasn’t to say that Jungkook was being selfish. Rather, it was the circumstances that made him think this way. With how restrictive the industry was, and how incredibly famous Jungkook was as well, it was hard for him to see people besides those closest to him, which at this point, had began to warn you during your time in the family and friends’ box at the shows about Jungkook’s quick attachment to people. 

“I know he always says he doesn’t get attached, but he really does,” an ex-fling told you in confidence in between VCRs. “He told me he was going to keep it professional, but the guy lies.” 

You were dreading it. Although you felt great that you slept with your favorite, it wasn’t your intention to get anything more out of it because well, what is there left? You signed an NDA, the company regularly asked if you two used a condom…it was getting invasive, weird, and it was starting to turn you off.

And so, the last night came through and you two met up again. This time, you knew it was the last time, and to Jungkook, maybe the start of something new. 

As you began to pack up your things, Jungkook laid on the bed sprawled out underneath the sheets. 

“So…Mexico…” he began. You sighed, knowing it was coming. 

“No, Jungkook,” you replied, turning toward him. “As much as I liked this, I can’t travel with you.” 

“I’m not asking for you to travel with me,” he rebutted, sitting up and grabbing his shirt to put it back on in one hand. “I’m just saying, come with me to the next show! It would be great coverage for the magazine.”

“Jungkook-ah, that’s not how it works,” you doubled down, zipping up your weekend bag before putting your jacket on. “I have to get approval from my editor. Plus, people are starting to talk, and frankly, I started getting texts from your fans about us.”

There it was, what you had been hiding. Honestly, you were used to it from the last celebrity you hooked up with, but this time, his fans, or his stalkers to be exact, knew everything about you, threatening to ruin your life if you didn’t stop fucking him. It was getting emotionally taxing, but you wanted to hide that from him. After all, you were confident that wasn’t his first time hearing this. 

“They’re not my fans and you know this,” he argued, now getting up and putting on his Adidas track pants. “The real ones will know it’s a little fling.”

“Do they though? Do you though?” 

There it was, the hard truth. 

Silence enveloped between you two, and Jungkook stood there in the dark with his hands in his pockets. He was staring at you, his eyes clearly pleading for you to not leave. 

“Don’t leave,” Jungkook’s words came after. “I know this seems a lot, but I really like you. We can make it work.”

Make it work…as if that could ever be a thing. 

You walked toward Jungkook with your weekender bag slung over your shoulders. Slipping your shoes on as well, you came closer to him, his breath hitched as you leaned in to kiss him on the cheek. 

“I’m sorry, Jungkook,” you began. “We can’t keep doing this. This is our last night together.”

He exhaled sharply, his eyes closing slowly. 

“I know.”

It didn’t take long before you two blocked each other on everything, pretending that you two didn’t exist to each other. It took a few more weeks before the fans stopped bothering you, probably focusing on the next fling Jungkook had. 

And so there it was, you had a fling with one of the biggest stars in the world. 

If only you knew what would happen next.

END. 

#jungkook #jungkook angst #jungkook x reader #writing #mine #this jungkook has been haunting my dreams for ever tbh bc you know. i'm in media and i can't imagine being in this position kdlahglshg #he totally would be so in luv but knows it can't go any further than that you know #but yeah i figured i can make a bit of a wong kar wai universe thing for decision to leave jungkook to flesh him out better #and someone did request to make stories in the pov of the reader so here u go! #yes i left it like that on purpose haha #dtl

[selfinserttothestars]

Strawberry Dress for a date????? Date time???? Cute little picnic date in the spring date???????????

Probably not lmao

#my art #traditional art #sketch #yuusona #twst yuu #twisted wonderland yuu #twst #twisted wonderland #implied mallyuu #because wouldn’t that be cute? #probably not a canon event but I mean I can dream heehee #…what would Mal wear tho?… #not that I’m thinking about it or anything haha that’d be silly #unless

[linktoo-doodles]

a quiet, unrelenting kindness

#eryn #eryn streams #eryn cyberonix #aimsey #dsmp #dream smp #my art #Linktoo art #. um. haha. I get stupid weak for people offering hot chocolate as a gesture of kindness #it's sweet. it's small. it warms your heart in a chocolatey kiddish way that isn't the same as tea or coffee #comic #can you tell I love deltarune. sorry. sorry. sorry. sorry #that kris hot chocolate scene always makes me tear up

[valeriianz]

it's been a while, but the brainworms would not stop festering until i wrote this little prequal to my original Vampire Hunter!Hob ficclet. dedicated to @mathomhouse-e, the biggest instigator for this au lol. thanks @quillingwords for some mad crazy beta skills <3 i appreciate you!

“Don’t look now, but that guy in the back has been staring at you since we sat down.”

Hob hummed as he took a long sip from his tankard for his mate’s benefit. Hob didn’t have to turn to confirm this; he’d felt the stranger’s eyes on him as soon as he’d entered the crowded pub, though he hadn’t spotted him yet. 

The revelation fascinated Hob now, after weeks and weeks of scattered moments where he had felt that itch of being watched, Hob could recognize the feeling and pinpoint it to one, singular person.

Their eyes had met a handful of times, Hob turning away politely at first, sometimes lengthening the stare with a curious look, or more recently, staring back with challenge in his gaze. Intentionally holding the man’s icy blue– visible even in the murky, darkened room– stare until Hob was forced to look away first, a chill running up his spine.

The feel of the stranger’s eyes on him had become frustratingly familiar. It was a bit hair-raising, to be sure. But it was also… alluring. Inviting. Titillating. 

Hob had begun dreaming of this mysterious man, drafting up introductions in his mind, anticipating a confrontation eventually. Whether their meeting would be easy or difficult was warring within Hob’s chest until he’d finally made a decision to confront the pale man with striking blue eyes. It seemed like divine intervention that, the day after making this decision, the stranger would appear in his usual spot, at Hob’s usual haunt, precisely as he sat down to join his friends.

“Want me to tell him to fuck off for ya?”

“Nah,” Hob downed the remainder of his pint before slipping off the barstool, tossing some coins on the counter. “I got it.”

Hob made his way to the man’s table, tucked away in a corner, where he sat alone. Where he always sat alone. The mud brown of the pub's interior seemed amplified by the yellow glow of the electric sconces on the walls. It made the White Horse’s patrons seem dull and muted, even those who wore many colors or laughed raucously. Hob’s stranger in the corner, however, seemed to push through the soft and warm glow like a supernova.

And strangely enough, he was dressed in all black. Darker than shadows and just as intangible, like the starless night sky when the moon was hiding. The lights hit his cloak and revealed a matte, velvet texture that looked rich and soft and clean. Too clean, too pressed. Like the man had walked straight out of a tailor’s and came right in here. The man stuck out like a sore thumb amongst everyone else, and yet no one seemed to be paying him any mind.

Hob kept eye contact as he drew near, his posture lax, unimposing, though he could feel his heartbeat in his throat. And he wondered, briefly, if his stranger could feel it too. The way his eyes seemed to brighten as Hob approached, the way the corner of his mouth began to curl, making Hob’s stomach twist with a mixture of unease and delight.

“Hello,” Hob greeted as he finally stepped up to the empty chair opposite the man. “May I sit?”

The man lifted one elegant dark brow in response and Hob took that as an affirmative, pulling out the rickety chair and dropping himself into it.

Hob had to remind himself how to breathe, looking upon the man who’d been unashamedly watching him for the past few weeks. The dark clad man was already a vision from across the room, his eyes alone making a statement. But up close he was devastating. His coal dark hair was thick and messy, long tendrils that framed his ghost-white skin and severe cheekbones like a painting. A vision of lust, secrecy, and– Hob realizes belatedly with a stab into his gut– danger.

And he hadn’t even spoken yet.

“Are you aware of how obviously you behave?” Hob managed to find his voice again, dredged up from where it had fled moments prior. “Maybe instead of staring at me all night, you can buy me a drink.”

The man across from him tilted his head a fraction, imperceptible. Hob forced his usual smirk, roguish and sly. The one he used countless times to woo women to his bed, as he waved down a barmaid.

“And what is obvious… about my behavior?” 

Hob looked twice at the man, unable to parse the words at first, convinced he had just heard a rumble of thunder outside. But as he stared, the stranger’s face became more and more curious, waiting for an answer. 

Hob swallowed. The question– spoken in a low murmur, deep and decadent– fluttered around his chest before finally settling somewhere low in his gut. Hob felt his bravado promptly leak out his ears.

“Ah. It’s not exactly what I’m used to,” Hob hid his hands under the table to hide how he began to fidget. “Typically a ‘hello’ or ‘how do you do’ is more acceptable than silently watching.”

The barmaid finally arrived and it gave Hob the excuse to pull his eyes away from the indigo sea swirling before him, almost hypnotic. He took a shuddering breath and blinked, staring up at the woman who was waiting for an order.

Hob ordered two cask ales, forgetting about the bold way he’d suggested the man buy his drink and operating now on autopilot. As the woman left, Hob brought his attention back to the enigmatic man before him, his skin prickling with gooseflesh at the realization he hadn’t moved an inch, piercing gaze still on Hob, posture straight and solid as a wooden stake.

“I was watching,” the man spoke again, his voice soporific. “Because I’m interested.”

Hob’s heart, which had finally calmed down a bit, flipped over in his chest. “In me?”

The man hummed, his chin tilting down, considering, while something akin to a smile tugged on his lips.

“In a way…” he replied cryptically. He spoke slowly, as if mulling each word over, making them deliberate. He closed his eyes for a moment and Hob belatedly realized the man hadn’t blinked once thus far.

“You are an apprentice.”

Hob couldn’t help it, he grinned, pulling one hand back on the table’s wooden surface to drum his fingers.

“How can you tell?”

The man tilted his chin up, taking a moment to study him and Hob felt his smile grow with the attention. Though there was something in the back of his head, tickling his base instincts of self-preservation. It was odd, Hob didn’t feel as though he was in any danger, but there was a certain… air about this gentleman. Hob couldn’t be sure yet, but there was definitely something off about him. Perhaps he was a lord– he certainly dressed the part. With his thick cloak, parted just enough to see an expensive looking waistcoat made from damask, the design threaded in gold that glinted with each microscopic movement.

The way he carried himself too, was with arrogance and power, and without a trace of sympathy. It was cold and hard. It was also breathtaking and Hob delighted in the man’s sharp gaze, his scrutiny, focused solely on him. 

Not just now, Hob had to remind himself with his own smug grin. But for the past few weeks.

“You dress the part,” he nodded down at Hob’s clothes. “But you are still young. I assume you’re in training.”

Hob looked down at himself, hardly dressed for style, but comfort. For easy movement during his training but also leather clad to protect against blunt force and brutal encounters. His coat, which he’d draped over the chair, had deep pockets for concealing weapons and the thick utility  belt around his waist had many compartments to hold his tools… though he had very few at the moment.

And like his stranger, Hob wore all black, to blend in with the night. He wouldn’t say what he was, even if the handsome man asked… it was frightening enough that he’d managed to even guess at his occupation thus far. 

“Good observation,” Hob said, offering nothing else.

The barmaid returned, setting their drinks on the table and leaving again with a smile.

Hob brought his own up for a long drink, for thirst and also to distract his hands, which desperately needed something to take hold of.

A beat passed before the stranger spoke again. “A priest?”

It’s the tone of the question that made Hob set his drink down slowly, swallowing deeply and eyeing his stranger again, his own brow arching. His tone was polite. As if he did know what Hob was and only asked to prompt him to reveal his true work. Like the man was playing dumb.

Hob looked down suddenly at the wooden cross hanging low on his chest, which is what might’ve provoked the inane suggestion. He laughed and he could hear in his own ears the edge to it.

“Far from it,” Hob tucked the cheap jewelry into his shirt. “Just superstitious, is all.”

The man hummed and seemed to relax, imperceptibly, in his chair. Hob took note of it with a curious expression

“And what about you?” Hob leaned back, fiddling with the handle of his pint. “What is your business?”

“Hardly worth mentioning.” The man responded quickly, his words premeditated. “I am curious though, young apprentice. Do I entice you?”

Again, Hob’s heart lurched at the forwardness. His blood racing through his veins and nearly making him dizzy. 

Unexpectedly, the stranger took a slow, deep breath through his nose, his chest rising with it and Hob unconsciously felt himself leaning forward. It is as though the man intended to pull Hob in, like he’d tied a rope around his chest and tugged. Hob caught himself on the table’s edge, forcing his eyes down at the man’s untouched drink and took a shaky breath, stolen from him, back into his lungs.

Hob laughed, shaking his head, pulling himself back up and hoping he hadn’t made too much of a fool of himself. His chest and neck were burning.

“What kind of question is that?”

For the first time all night, the man took his hands from where they’d been hidden under the table and clasped them on the surface. Hob sees no rings but couldn’t help but to fixate on his long pale fingers, his knuckles smooth as silver bullets. Hob wondered if they’d be just as hard and cold, too.

“You approached me. You sat at my table.” His hands turned palm up, fingers spreading wide. “What kind of question do you think it is?”

Hob laughed again, nerves getting the best of him. His young, traitorous heart was like a racehorse galloping along his ribcage.

“I’m afraid to answer that question,” but Hob smirked anyway, taking his drink up again to distract himself.

A small, barely there smile crept through his stranger’s carefully composed visage. A proper smile filled with pure amusement and– Hob blinked dumbly as realization settles in– desire. His eyes seemed to glint with excitement, hunger.

Ah, that was it. Like looking upon something you craved, pupils dilating with it and lips unconsciously parting, which Hob’s stranger did now. It was an intoxicating sight, and Hob could only stare, caught like a mouse in a trap.

Then he rose, so fluidly and gracefully that it took Hob a moment to even register that he was staring up at the man.

“What’s your name?” Hob asked, his voice gone quiet, awestruck.

The man hummed again, eyelids low, considering.

“Next time.”

He set a gold coin on the table, right next to his untouched ale, and left.

#dreamling #dream x hob #vampire au #i can and will blame Eliza for this little thing lol #i hope you like it <3 #this is for sure something that could be a full length fic... #but for now im just gonna add on to it on tumblr #in lil snippets like this #whenever i feel like it haha #my writing