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mummer · 10 months

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just saw asteroid city last night, pls explain the proposed significance of the kiss!!

answering this publicly hope thats ok! cant do a readmore im on mobile *****asteroid city spoilers below beware*****

i dont remember anyones names so this is gonna sound partly unhinged. okay so the edward norton playwright and jason schwartzman actor (not character, in the black and white parts) are lovers right. tbh i thought this was kind of a gag and forgot about it. but later we find out that the playwright died 6 months into the production. i didnt make the connection that THAT’s why the actor-jason has to suddenly leave the stage and freaks out backstage about how he’s not sure he’s Doing it right. hes not talking about acting!! because he himself is literally grieving his lover while he’s playing a character who’s grieving his wife written by his lover so obviously it’s too much!!! actor-jason is trying to find meaning in his death through his writing but there isnt any meaning in death [gerris drinkwater voice] which is what the play is trying to say anyway. he doesnt think he’s performing grief right even in his own life!!! (and tbh it’s the 50s so he wouldnt be able to perform grief publicly anyway!!!!) the play starts with a car accident… anyone would search for some hidden meaning there, some sign…. so when he talks to margot robbie outside it’s not really about finding the CHARACTER’s motivations it’s about the actor himself being able to process the playwright’s death! and adrien brody director was probably also dealing with that too (him and norton seemed to be good buddies) so the whole “sleeping backstage” thing gets a bit sadder maybe? maybe everyone else got this in the theatre and im just stupid lol but crazy making stuff to me!!! the whole story is about sublimated gay grief that cannot be expressed?!?!

the tweet that caught me onto this was here which posits that the playwright’s death was a suicide but i think that’s pretty stupid and unnecessary because the whole thing about the play asteroid city is that death is random and meaningless. im pretty sure that’s what the alien represents— a shocking and absurd event that isnt outright evil or menacing, not something anyone can predict or make sense of, it’s just a thing that happens to you out of nowhere, it doesnt mean anything. he’s a little black figure, he’s death! giving and taking! aagh

#you’re the wife who played my actor :(#posthumus #asteroid city #imagine youre in love with a playwright and he writes a play before he even meets you about how you cant get over his death which hasnt #happened yet. id go insane too #im going to see it again to see how this informs the whole thing because its driving me crazy #rewatching the performances knowing that they're performing people performing. augh.#remember when bryan cranston accidentally appears in frame. rending my garments #also ‘you cant wake up until you fall asleep’ confused me a bit but then i remembered that the margot robbie scene was supposed to be put o #as a dream sequence and it makes sense now. thanks #aliens are the new fairytale monster symbol of death. the ultimate Unknowable #EDIT okay i read the wikipedia summary got some facts wrong adrien brody is sleeping in the theatre during rehearsals so its not because of #the playwright’s death he’s just like that.

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opens-up-4-nobody · 1 year

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Once I was scrolling thru naruto fics and saw the tag "buisnessman!Kakashi" and all I could think about was Kakashi being a child businessman, owning all the konoha adults at doing business while wearing an oversized suit and tie. That idea is so fucking funny to me.

#obito: that kakashi! hes always showing me up by getting better deals than me >:-(#also just the idea of lil child Kakashi showing up at a business meeting and sealing the deal with an outline written in adorablly childish #handwriting. written in crayon lol #call this the naruto businessman au #every ninja is a business person and it exactly parallels canon. that is my dream #sealed inside naruto is the partial spirit of the ultimate buisnessman but its too powerful and everyones afraid #fucking hashirama's face on the wall as the company founder lmao rip madara: fuck this company ur brother embarrassed my brother so bad #at deal making that he died. im gonna tear it all down. face me hashirama! deal for deal. ill become the ultimate businessman ill control #the world and put an end to all this business!#oh got its so weird like the founders waterpark au that i also keep deep in my heart #anyway this is weird wtf am i doing. procrastinating and its like almost 11 i should keep writing or go to sleep lol #but wait: 10 years ago the spirit of a ferral businessman was unleashed upon this building. there was no stopping him. his charisma was #unmatched. his expense reports! his terrible otherworldly expense reports! he was too efficient! he fired half the staff! the spirit of #that buisnessman is sealed inside of u naruto. thats why theyre so afraid of u. and then cut to naruto in an oversized buisness suit #looking shocked. aw iruka as a daycare working. cute #anyway this is fucking dystopian lol #unrelated #naruto ramblings

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lacecap · 1 year

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i saw you once in a dream

#EEP #orv #kim dokja #han sooyoung #omniscient readers viewpoint #oldest dream #orv spoilers #ehh kiiindaa i guess #fishbowl #this is a scene from the fic linked above i am so so so dearly in love with it. very special fic about oldest dream #meeting the hsy of his worldline #hsy #kdj #can be doksoo if you want it to be. theyre soooooo (falls onto the ground #i will ramble a little bit more about this fic i think its so funny seeing hsy as an annoying little weirdgirl shes so real to me #its very very very sweet i love it a lot... i had the imagery of this scene in particular stuck in my mind for an entire week #before finally churning this out #my last note: i was listening to a scenery by sea-no the entire time while painting this #and i highly recommend listening to it if you'd like a feel for the atmosphere i was going for #also its just such a lovely instrumental ep in general

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luminiciant · 7 months

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im sickkk be kind to urself

#dream #dreamwastaken #dream fanart #dreamwastaken fanart #dwt #dwt fanart #art #fanart #U ARE NOT UGLY #the teacher in my is gonna come out like WE USE KIND WORDS TO OURSELVES WE ARE WORTHY OF RESPECT AND LOVE #dream repeat with me i am beautiful #dreamblr #in other news im meeting dream tmr im nervous ermm ermmm

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lnkedmyheart · 5 months

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Today in my dream, Chuuya cracked an egg on Dazai's forehead and instead of the egg cracking, Dazai started cracking till he fell to pieces and then Chuuya sagely said "things fall apart".

#i rarely dream about fictional characters #and my dreams are generally weird #i once dreamt of meeting Siyeon which is a strange thing for me cause of my whole 'never meet you fave' philosophy #but in that dream she at my school for a fansign and I was waiting in line but my teacher called me and told me to get Siyeon a pen #cause she was out of ink #so obviously I decided to ride my bike all the way back hom to get her a pen instead of finding one AT SCHOOL #and somehow I rode across the desert plains a thunderstorm and across several massive hills for a pen #and when I finally got back the fansign was over

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wdapteo · 6 months

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gif by @pinof

Phil reacting to Dan in the nun outfit the same way as someone reacts to their bride entering the wedding... I'm unwell

#dnp #dan and phil #i need to go to sleep urhg #goodbye sister daniel please meet me in my dreams <3

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belleski · 1 year

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you know i went into that episode expecting to cry, definetly didn't expect it to come from an 8 year old god learning about mortality in the most harrowing way possible [Image description] A digital piece of fanart of Luz Noceda and the collector from The Owl house from the episode 'Watching and Dreaming.' Luz in in her Azura halloween costume and is looking down and smiling at the collector who is floating next to her and holding onto her cowl with one hand. He's looking upwards with a shaken expression to Luz's hand, which is raised about her head and infected with white glowing Belos gunk. There are several white particles floating away from it and its emmitting a light yellow halo of light. The background is a dark green, and is covered in green tendrils with blue eyes scattered across them. These tendrils are reaching towards Luz and the collector, but stop at the light emmitted by her hand like they can't pass it. [End ID]

#its the 'i dont want anyone else to go missing!" that really got to me #desperately need to meet whoever boarded that bit because the facial expressions on display here are to marvel at #Im gonna draw more stuff from that finale because oh my god - but for the time being im still on sad child brainrot #the owl house #toh #the owl house spoilers #toh spoilers #watching and dreaming #WAD spoilers #toh fanart #the owl house fanart #luz noceda #the collector #belleskiart #image described

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becca-e-barnes · 1 year

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Not to be too filthy but the thought of dbf!bucky warning you that he's not going to pull out?? 🤤

I've been thinking about this a lot today and I really like imagining the way he'd position you however he wants you. He doesn't tell you what he wants you to do, he just guides you instead.

Because I love the thought of him pressing gently on your shoulders while he's kissing you, urging you to sink to your knees for him. You take the hint, opening your mouth while watching him undo his belt but he swears he might lose it when you press your tongue over your bottom lip.

"Good girl." He tries not to sound too breathless when he presses his slick tip to your lips, letting you taste his precum, smearing it over your waiting tongue. It's not long before you're eagerly taking all of him, sucking and licking and enjoying the weight of him in your mouth. You feel the tip press to the back of your throat and you do your very best to remember to breathe, trying to ignore your own growing arousal.

The hand on the back of your head keeps you in place while he thrusts in and out of your mouth and it's nice to just let him take for a little while. When you need to, you can press back against his hand and give yourself a break but the praise he showers you with makes it's hard to focus on anything other than the throbbing between your own legs.

"Fuck, look at you." He groans, applying a little more pressure to the back of your head and you try to stifle your gag reflex when he nudges the back of your throat once more. "Such a perfect mouth. Feels like you were made for this, weren't you, baby? You take me like such a good girl."

God, you want to agree. Something about being his good girl leaves your panties soaked and your body desperate. He treats you right. He cares about more than just your pleasure; he cares about how you're feeling, inside and outside of the bedroom. He's good to you and that simple fact makes the sex even better.

Before too long, he's pulled back from your mouth and he's holding your chin gently, encouraging you to stand up again before he presses you back onto the bed.

You whimper quietly at the feeling of his thick fingers grazing the little soaked lace panties you're wearing before he takes them off and lets them drop to the floor.

"Please." You gasp, letting your fingers drift over your soaked sex with an urgency that surprises your partner. Bucky watches as two of your own fingers slip into your cunt before you trail them up to circle your clit. He doesn't miss how they glisten, coated in evidence of your overwhelming arousal.

Relief floods you when you feel him press his tip to your entrance, letting him sink slowly into you. Nothing compares to the feeling of that first glide into your body. It's intimate but it's downright filthy at the same time.

"Best fucking girl for me." Bucky groans the words between kisses to your neck, slowly pulling out before pressing back where he belongs.

You can only whimper, fingernails digging into his back, forever urging him to fuck you harder.

"I hope you know I'm not pulling out tonight." The words make your cunt flutter with excitement and you almost wonder if he can feel it. "Feels too good. I'm going to stuff this pretty pussy full." He cradles your face in one hand, his eyes locked on yours and you're acutely aware that there's nothing you want to feel more than the gush of his cum into your body.

#becca's thots #becca writes spice #dbf!bucky smut #dbf!bucky #Bucky Barnes smut #why does nothing else compare to the feeling of someone playing with your hair #it brings me a different level of happiness #I just melt #I think I want a new piercing this week #maybe a tattoo idk #I need some kind of small change #distracting myself from the fact valentines day is creeping up and I'll likely be spending it with my two favourite people #ben and jerry #maybe I'll write a little valentines piece #I might write my dream valentines day actually #that could be fun #bc the meetings that are scheduled into my calendar are making me wonder if it can possibly get worse

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crownedinmarigolds · 8 months

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More dumb BG3 comics from mine and my husband's take on the story. Khloe is not my Tav but is a camp character (that we have occasionally walk around with the party) who serves as the camp cook and potions master. Former long-time tavern worker who became an owner when her stepmother retired, she's mechanically an artificer! She's twice widowed, once left at the altar, without children, and just crested into her forties... and now has been abducted and carrying a mind worm. Life's tough.

Here she is getting extremely excited to have made an emotional connection with a bear only to find out that it was in fact a giant elf druid instead... BUMMER!!! What a disappointment. (Halsin ofc because it's my BG3 indulgence becomes smitten at her priceless "ugh it's just a hot guy not a cool bear" expression.)

(full rundown as always in the picture descriptions if you're interested!)

#khloe is basically like “i'm happy we found the druid but man i was so stoked for the bear friend...”#“My dreams of the bear eventually leaving me but coming back later with its children are gone now... nice to meet you druid Halsin”#baldur's gate #baldur's gate oc #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate spoilers #my art #halsin #khloe #halsin like “this is honestly the first time i shapeshifted from the bear to the man and the other person is disappointed... kinda hot ngl”

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just-french-me-up · 1 year

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Harmonies

@hardly-an-escape recently had this FABULOUS idea of acclaimed writer Morpheus who secretly publishes popular romance novels under a pen name, who shamefully gets off while listening to voice actor Hob Gadling acting out an explicit scene from one of his romance stories. I would say my hand slipped but this was 100% planned and thought through.

Morpheus refreshed his inbox. Early afternoon, Lucienne had told him. He gave a quick glance at the clock. 5:42PM. Early afternoon was fading into late afternoon one second at a time, with nothing to show for it.

Morpheus refreshed his inbox. Again.

This is stupid, he thought, frustration seeping in. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Surely, they had not finished editing or formatting the whole thing yet, he shouldn't have gotten his hopes up. Perhaps they had forgotten. Morpheus didn't usually request to be sent the beta recordings. He was more than happy to let them do their job unencumbered, trusting Lucienne to green light everything once it was done. Truth be told, he was barely involved in the whole audiobook side of things, except for, well, writing the damn thing in the first place and having his pen name slapped on the cover. Lucienne had arched an eyebrow at him when he'd asked for the latest recordings out of the blue, but had not been overly curious. A good thing, really. Morpheus carefully avoided any occasion that required him to lie through his teeth. This, no doubt, would have been one of them.

His phone buzzed, startling him.

[6PM 09/05/2023 – The Kindly Ones – Edit Zoom Meeting]

Morpheus turned off the reminder. Too many fires at once. That was his problem, his sister had told him once. Stretching yourself thin until you're see-through, she had said. She was not wrong, of course, although Morpheus would not admit it to her face. She would be far too smug about it.

He refreshed his inbox.

Inbox (1)

Morpheus froze and stared at the screen. There it was. Finally. His pulse racing, he reached for his headphones, struggling to plug it in in his haste. The file was slow to download, the recordings accounting for more than half of the book. Morpheus' fingers tapped impatiently against his desk as he watched the bar crawl to the finish line.

5:51PM.

Surely he could allow himself a quick browse through the file. The meeting with his editor―his other editor―wouldn't start for five more minutes, if not more, should they run a little late on their side. Morpheus found himself wishing they would. Unprofessional, a little voice admonished him.

He opened the file. It had been divided into sections, each corresponding to a chapter. Skip. Skip. Skip. He knew what he was looking for. The book had come out a year ago or so. He still remembered the outline well enough. For a while, he heard nothing but the initial breath of the voice actor, one for each chapter, before he would skip ahead. When he finally let the recording play, the voice engulfed him in its warmth.

Although Morpheus had been the one initially weaving the words and sentences together, they found another dimension and depth in that voice. He was rediscovering his work on someone else's tongue, and the effect left him... intrigued. A few voice actors had given life to the words on the page over the years but this one... This one breathed a soul into the story like none had ever managed to before.

When Morpheus had learnt Robert Gadling would narrate another one of his books, he could not resist.

The beta recordings were rough, lacking the polish of the final product, leaving intakes of breath in and other little imperfections editors would cut out. Morpheus could hear every huff, every chuckle when Gadling would stumble over a word and correct himself, going back to the beginning of the sentence. He could picture the smile on his lips then, the playfully apologetic look at the tech team. He had looked up pictures of him online, once. His face matched his voice: warm, inviting, with a hint of mischief. Suave, even. Morpheus had then closed the tab, embarrassed at his own thoughts.

The scene he had skipped to was professionally relevant, or, at least, he tried to convince himself it was. He had always understood sex scenes to be a tricky thing, for actors. At least, when it came to traditional acting, it was a shared awkwardness, a simulacrum of pleasure played by multiple people who could find solace in the fact that they were all on the same vulnerable boat, camera crew included. Now, voice actors... Acting choices could either make or break a sex scene. It required a subtle mix of smoothness and confidence few could manage. The last thing he wanted was for his words to sound clumsy and awkward, when the goal was quite the opposite. It was Morpheus' authorial prerogative to check every aspect of the audiobook fit his vision, after all.

As the chapter began and Robert Gadling's voice filled his ears, Morpheus imagined him in his recording booth, alone. Some audiobooks had multiple actors playing different characters, but this one only had him credited. There were slight fluctuations of tones, accents and speech patterns, as he switched characters. Morpheus listened intently.

"Gabriel gave a fleeting look downward. Nathan's shirt was soaked, revealing hints of the skin underneath. He tried not to stare, but only managed to do so through conscious and continuous effort. 'You should change your shirt before you catch something,' he told Nathan, his tone as casual as he could manage. 'You could borrow one of mine.' "

The acting was good. There was tension in the words, in the tone. The characters sounded like different people, even though they were played by the same man. Morpheus continued. In the book, things heated up quickly after a long, tentative courtship. He braced himself for the following scene, replaying the words in his head from memory.

" 'It smells like you.' Gabriel stared at him, stunned, unable to look away as Nathan stood in front of him, his own t-shirt and boxers for only garments. 'What?' he managed, his throat dry. 'It smells like you,' Nathan repeated, lifting the fabric to his nose with a smile. 'I like it.' Gabriel's gaze trailed down Nathan's body, only now noticing the growing outline of his cock aga―"

Morpheus paused. He had written those words. He knew those words, from having read and reread them a few dozen times during the writing and editing process. Yet he had never heard them. Especially not in that voice. Even the narration was sensual, almost cheeky, dripping with lust like honey. Clumsy and awkward it was not. It was.... something else entirely. Shaking off the feeling, Morpheus hit the 'play' button again.

" ―inst the taut fabric of his boxers. 'I like it,' Nathan repeated, slowly reaching for his cock through the thin fabric, his fingertips brushing the shape of it, well aware of Gabriel's undivided attention."

The rest of the scene followed, word for word Morpheus' work, yet somehow completely new to his ears. He sat there, enraptured, his eyes staring into nothingness while the rich, luscious voice surrounded him, filled him until it became his only focus.

A lewd, enthusiastic hum rose from the headphones, making Morpheus jump. Every word he had been anticipating thus far, but artistic license? It fitted with the narrative well. Too well. Not Gadling's first brush with erotica, he immediately guessed. He played it again for good measure. The sound was deeply erotic, with just enough warmth and breath. Real. It sounded real. It was followed by a breathy sigh Morpheus could almost feel at the back of his neck. God.

He played it again. He could feel the sound, the anticipation, the desire, the pleasure. Gadling conveyed it with such ease it felt genuinely intimate. Arousing, even. Morpheus ran his hand against the front of his own trousers, feeling the very real erection pushing against the hard fabric. This was ridiculous. Yet he could not stop. The scene kept playing, Robert Gadling's voice purring in his ears, words like caresses and gentle tugs, and he could not help but cup his cock through his jeans, seeking friction. He imagined him in the recording booth, leaning over the microphone, his features fitting the suggestive sounds, his lips wet from running his tongue over them. If he could just get a little further in the scene―

His Zoom alarm went off. Instantly, Morpheus removed his hand and his headphones, his back stiff as a board, a cold wave of panic rushing through him. Fuck! He gave himself a quick look through the camera of his phone. He was blushing slightly, to his utmost annoyance. Nothing he could not blame on bad webcam settings, he thought. The rest could be concealed easily enough. Especially when he was only visible from the waist up.

It was with a slight flush and a distracting, frustratingly hard erection that Morpheus answered his Zoom call, his mind scattered between book royalties, publishing dates, and Robert Gadling's voice still deeply embedded in his skull.

It was hours before Morpheus found a minute of free time. Night had fallen, the evening spent in front of a screen or on the phone, discussing the imminent release of his upcoming novel, one whose cover would feature his actual name, this time. Book releases were always exhausting affairs, between planning podcast appearances, book signings, press tours, and the likes. Morpheus disliked the fanfare of it all, the exposure, but could hardly complain. There were worse flip sides of the coin, out there.

At least writing under a pen name saved him the hassle, with the other half of his published work.

Lying on his bed, fresh out of the shower, Morpheus sighed, staring at the ceiling. He felt both exhausted and wide awake, his coffee-fueled brain refusing to quiet down. There were a few things the editor needed his input on in person, tomorrow, something to do with the cover art. He'd promised himself to write, too. Perhaps clean the flat a little. Too many fires at once, his sister's voice echoed in his mind.

His phone buzzed again. Incoming email from Lucienne.

Listened to it yet? Thoughts?

Plenty. Enough to know it was good. Enough to keep the reader listening. Enough for him to want to go back for more.

Going through his emails, Morpheus found the link to the beta recordings, and downloaded it onto his phone. He reached for old earbuds in his bedside table drawer. Where were we?

" 'Come here.' "

The latent desire in that voice was enough to get Morpheus right back where he had been, a few hours ago. Lying on his bed, he kept listening, swallowing hard at any well-placed sigh, any improvised grunt and whimpering sound. Was it even improvised? Did he plan on adding those? Did Gadling discuss it with the adaptation team beforehand? Marked the exact spots where he would do it in the printed script?

" 'You're so beautiful like this, love. Look at you.' "

God.

" 'I have thought about you like this. Hard under me. For me.' "

Hesitantly, Morpheus reached under the waistband of his pyjamas, finding himself hard already. He blushed at his own embarrassment, alone in his bedroom, his hand wrapped around his cock, his own words spilling in his ears. Vain, perhaps. Awfully self-absorbed. But deep down, he knew it was not that. Not really.

" 'Do you want me, Gabriel?' Can you feel I much I want you?' "

He hated himself for including so much narration in this passage, keeping him from the lascivious heat of Gadling's voice, waiting for the dialogue to return like a starving man begs for food. How could he do that? A wanton moan reverberated in his ears, quickly echoed by one of his own, harmonies of pleasure filling his head and his room.

" 'Fuck, you feel so good!' "

Why did his editor even let him publish that? Morpheus' mind was bridging the gaps between dialogue bits, ignoring the narration in favour of more pleasurable mental stimulation. He pictured Robert Gadling in his recording booth, focused over the microphone, his lips pressed into a sinful hum, his eyes closed. Gadling next to him, his mouth pressed against his ear, spewing new words, ones he did not write, ones of his own.

" 'Let me see those eyes.' "

Morpheus whined against his pillow, both from pleasure and frustration. He hated this. This was... mortifying, and yet he could not stop. He arched his back, chasing his pleasure.

" 'Fuck! I've waited for this for so long.' "

Morpheus came in his pyjamas in a muffled grunt, the release helping nothing with the shame spreading through him. It brought him some clarity, at least. Disgruntled, he yanked the earbuds out of his ears, Robert Gadling's voice reduced to a hushed whisper, the siren's song finally muffled. He looked down at himself, suddenly aware of the mess he'd made. Great. Fantastic.

His phone buzzed again. It was Lucienne.

Do you want the edited files once they are done? They would love your feedback before they start trimming it down.

Morpheus sighed, struggling against the brightness of the screen.

Yes, tell them I would like them.

#the sandman #dreamling #dream x hob #dream/hob #sandman #sandman fics #sandman fanfiction #smut #my writing #the brain worms were too real and too demanding #so they made me do it #in my defense it was pretty fun to write #also i know nothing about the publishing or the audiobook industry #most of this is just adlib #Morpheus finally meeting Hob for the first time #being absolutely unable to handle Hob's voice without getting a hard on #now that's a thought

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cuubism · 1 year

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"Nice place you have here," says Desire, sliding into the booth opposite Hob.

Hob, unfortunately, recognizes them by voice alone. Desire speaks with the melody of an arpeggio, smoothed into oblivion by the sustained press of a piano pedal. Drag without release, in comparison to Dream's resounding deep notes.

"Never seen you here before," Hob says, instead of get out of my pub. He doesn't actually need to start a fight.

"I've decided to respect my brother's play set for now," Desire says archly, as if this is a huge consideration on their part. "He's been through so much recently, after all."

"And you've been so much help with that," Hob says.

Something dangerous flashes briefly in Desire's eyes, and Hob remembers how fickle they can be. Like fire, Dream had said.

Then it subsides. "Careful, Robert," they say easily, leaning on their hand, "one might think you've chosen a side."

No thinking about it, Hob thinks. "Families shouldn't have sides."

"Oh, ours isn't supposed to," Desire agrees. "And yet."

And yet. "Is there something in particular that has you breaking your self-imposed generosity today?"

It's one day before his and Dream's usual meeting, after all. That can't be a coincidence. Technically, they meet all the time now, but they always keep June 7th for nostalgia's sake.

"I simply enjoy the atmosphere," says Desire, leaning back in their chair. They thrust out a hand, and a rainbow flag flutters off the wall into their grasp, drawn by their whims. Desire drapes it over their shoulders.

"I guess that makes sense," Hob says.

Desire raises an eyebrow.

Hob gestures at them. "Desire. Isn't that your thing?"

They give him a crafty smile, a little teeth, that suggests Hob's going to learn something he may not entirely like. "Well, it is certainly of interest to me."

"Of interest," Hob echoes. Might as well say fire was "of interest" to a pyromaniac. "Isn't that what you do? Dream makes dreams, and..." he trails off.

"I am Desire," they say. "So, in a way, I feel all desires at all times. Yes, even yours, Robert." They pat him on the cheek, and wink. "I know what you feel."

Hob's cheeks heat, but Desire doesn't linger on it, thankfully.

"But, my own desire? Hm, no, not in the way you would think."

"But you--" Hob doesn't know how to phrase the confusion in his mind.

Desire runs their tongue along their lower lip. "Are you calling me a slut, Robert?"

"Would take one to know one, I suppose," Hob says before he can even think about it, and Desire laughs, bright and loud.

"You are so cute. You would be delicious if you weren't obsessed with Dream. But, no. I can feel desired," Desire says, emphasizing the past tense. The objective nature of it. "But that, while certainly tasty, is not quite the same as feeling it oneself, now is it?"

What might it be like, Hob thinks, feeling a pang of sympathy for them despite how they've treated Dream, how he'd automatically marked them as an enemy in his mind, to be surrounded by wanting and not be able to feel it?

"I... guess not," he says. "So you don't want anything?"

Desire shrugs. "I enjoy things. But if I can't have them, it simply passes like--" they pull off the flag and let it flutter to the floor "-- a gust of wind. And I move on to something else. Otherwise, I chase others' desires. Your inn is full of them. Desires for peace, for belonging, for change and magic and-- yes, lust, too, but more of an undertone. It is..." they run their tongue over their teeth, thinking. "Aromatic."

"What does desire 'taste' like?" Hob asks.

"Why don't you tell me," Desire says.

"I'm not going to lick you," Hob says, and Desire cackles.

"Open offer," they say. "Be all metaphorical like Dream, then."

"Alright, fine." Hob decides to indulge them, because he has actually learned something interesting today. "It's like... the smell of a good meal. You don't quite... taste it, exactly? But you can imagine tasting it."

"Good answer," says Desire, and steals his drink for a sip. "I knew I could count on you to listen, Hob."

Hob's not sure if it's the tone, like something long undecided has now been settled, or if it's the use of his old nickname, but suddenly the afternoon tilts, and Hob realizes with a swoop in his stomach that they're here for a purpose, and not just poking at Dream.

The Endless almost never communicate directly, Hob knows this. Goddammit.

"I've spent a lot of time in these sorts of places, you know," Desire says, gesturing around. "They are right--" they interlace their fingers in example "--in the center of my realm."

"Depending on the year, I would have thought you and Despair together," Hob says, wary now that he's realized this is coming to some sort of point.

"A common assumption," Desire says, nodding like a teacher whose student is getting on the right track. "See, people often think my twin and I are opposites. Desire, Despair." They hold out both hands separately again, then clasp them. "But they don't have it right. Hope is the opposite of Despair. Do you know what the opposite of Desire is?" They reach across the table to tap their sharp nails against his sternum. "Shame."

"And that's... part of your domain, as well?" Hob guesses.

"Indeed. Who could know shame as well as one who desires? They both--" they lay their hand flat to his heart "--live here."

Hob supposes he himself has had plenty of desires over the years, and plenty of shame too -- though not necessarily over the same matters.

"Hence," they spread their hands wide, "my presence. The duality of Desire."

"So what do you do?" Hob asks. "When you're here because of shame, I guess."

"I am always both," says Desire. "But." They smile sweetly, and it actually does look sweet, for once. "I am merely here to hold your hand."

Hob must look at them with an expression of vague disgust, for they snort and roll their eyes.

"Not you, Robert. You!" They gesture broadly at the entire inn. "Death is always going on and on about serving humanity. I know how to do my job too, you know."

They frown at him, at the idea he might think otherwise, and it's-- it's actually kind of sweet, how much they care about this. It really is.

"That's sweet," he says, and Desire grumbles. Hob can't help but smile.

"I take the charge of those who live in the heart of Desire very seriously," they sniff. Their gaze slants over Hob's shoulder, watching something across the room. "Relatedly, if that man at the bar follows through on his desire to say something homophobic to those children on their date, I am going to shoot him."

"Ooookaaayyy," Hob says, snapping his fingers in front of their eyes until their attention turns back to him. Hob's bartender will handle any issues; he would really rather not have an Endless making a scene.

Desire smiles placidly at him. "What was I saying? Ah, yes. Desire and shame go hand in hand. Almost like dreams and nightmares, you might say."

Hob goes still again, on instinct. "Right."

"My sister and I are very close, even if we are not, actually, opposites. Dream and I were close, once." They drag their finger around the rim of Hob's glass. "Wanting. Dreaming. So similar, and yet, so different, too. It hurts, to really let yourself want what you've dreamt of. It hurts to desire, don't you think? It's sharp, like a blade."

"Yes," Hob says. "It is."

"Mmm. But shame... shame is like a heavy, warm blanket. It makes you want to just--" they mime pulling fabric over their head-- "disappear. My brother and I have a very complicated relationship. Perhaps, one day, we will be on better terms again, and he can tell me about his desires, and I can tell him about my dreams. I would love to know what it feels like."

Hob isn't sure if he's putting the pieces of this meandering conversation together correctly, but whatever he is picking up on, he doesn't like the sound of.

"Dream is always going on and on and on and on about the importance of dreams and it's so annoying but you know what? I'm starting to think he's right." They give Hob a warning glance. "Do not tell him I said that. But, yes, I'm afraid that desires without dreams hand in hand are just--" they slide their hand across the table and let it stop at the edge. "Impotent. Static. And god knows what good dreams even are without desire but Dream will never admit that."

"So you're what," Hob says, even though he knows this is not what this is about, "trying to mending fences?"

Desire smiles sunnily. "I just want him to call me. I'm bored, and he's spent far too much time in my sister's realm recently."

Then they stand in one fluid motion.

"What are you saying," Hob asks. He feels sort of faint, whiplashed.

"Oh, I've said nothing, I'm doing nothing. I merely don't want to have to fill an empty seat next June, that is all. I'll be far too busy." They wink, and then they're gone.

Hob sits still for a long time, after. He's still not sure he understood... all of that. He understands that the Endless aren't supposed to interfere in each other's affairs and that sometimes riddles result.

What he does understand is that if Desire, of all people, has decided to be helpful, then he definitely has something to be concerned about. Something he needs to do something about.

He shakily drains the rest of his glass, then stands. Hob has never gotten anywhere by being static.

Time to go try to do something about it.

#this might not make a goddamn lick of sense i'm sorry #i'm just thinking constantly about the idea of the endless not experiencing their own realm #the idea of hob as a person almost defined by hunger and desire as basically the personification of hunger? but who can't feel it themself?#compelling to me #and also desire and dream's relationship which is so fascinating to me bc listen there is still love there i know there is I KNOW THERE IS #also. maybe desire as a character as a sort of patron saint of queerness. idk just throwing stuff at the wall #hoping i remembered correctly that hob and dream's meeting is in june otherwise thisll be realll awkward #hob gadling #my writing #desire of the endless #seriously does this make any sense. any?#hm ok what i've determined is this only makes even some sense if you're like. mired in sandman meta XD and know a fair amount of comic #spoilers. ok i can live with that

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prince-liest · 9 months

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more self-indulgent jgy abo headcanons

I read a fic so long ago that I no longer remember the fandom nor characters involved, but the thing about it that really stuck in my mind was that it was an abo-verse fic that used the concept that omegas have an ingrained biological need for physical (including platonic) affection, to the point where “touch-starvation” was a medical diagnosis

this is obviously extremely up my alley for ALL my blorbos, but consider jin guangyao in particular:

unlike the usual ‘omega pretending to be a beta’ trope, I think that once he is established at jinlintai, he would not really try to let people assume that he’s a beta. being an omega leads people not only into underestimating him, but also into offering him a certain degree of safety in providing a veil of stereotype-associated demureness, placidity, etc. it is more to his benefit for people to see him as a polite young man, perhaps even one who, yes, is a war hero - but people can’t quite imagine what kinds of things he must have done for that. surely nothing too bad.

but at the same time, this is the character who couldn't even serve tea to people as nie mingjue’s deputy without people making a show of wiping off their fingers after touching the cups. people know he is an omega, people judge him for being an omega on top of all the other things he is already judged for, but I suspect that most of the relevant and appropriate people in jinlintai avoid touching him unless absolutely necessary. in a world where casual contact is thoroughly commonplace just due to the socialities set up by their biology, jin guangyao has a personal space bubble of like 2-3 feet because he's the dirty son of a prostitute.

he walks through the halls, ostensibly the second young master of the tower, and feels like he is drowning in the physical manifestation of loneliness.

who does he have left? family? jin zixuan is not close to him, and frankly is likely an alpha raised by alphas to whom it would not even occur to that such needs need to be minded. jin guangshan certainly is aware, but is using it as leverage, allowing and denying contact as he see fits to manipulate jin guangyao the same way he does with his fatherly affection. there are his sworn brothers, but his relationship with nie mingjue is fraught: certainly da-ge wouldn’t withhold contact as punishment or leverage, but that doesn’t mean he wants to touch jin guangyao anymore, nor does he really understand how the necessity of it feels when he grew up with nie huaisang, an omega who has never been shy about taking whatever affection he wants. and er-ge... he just isn’t around enough.

lan xichen is still the best option, and by the time they have the opportunities to see each other, jin guangyao is pressing nails into his palms to stop from just plastering himself up against lan xichen’s side, which surely would be humiliating for both of them. but still, he’s so aware of it any time they’re in the same room, meting out as many small touches as he can get away with without embarrassing himself. lan xichen slips his fingers over jin guangyao’s wrists as he pulls him up from a bow, intending warm affection. jin guangyao doesn’t want to let him know that it feels like being allowed to gasp for a single breath of air before his head is shoved back underwater.

(with nie mingjue, it is worse. da-ge is just as aware as jin guangyao is when they touch, but for all the worst reasons.)

it is the strangest blessing whenever jin guangyao sees nie huaisang. it’s embarrassing, a little - the knowledge that nie huaisang understands, unlike most people in jin guangyao’s life. but nie huaisang takes that embarrassment onto his own self willingly, never hesitating before making a fool of himself in the way that only a terminally younger brother can, and simply flinging himself into his san-ge’s arms. it’s nostalgic, too: nie mingjue isn’t quite so aware of how important touch is with how proactive nie huaisang can be, and so during his days as deputy, it was often nie huaisang who gave meng yao what he could not ask for.

the cultivators at jinlintai look down on him just as the ones in the unclean realm did, but now there is no willing young master to soothe away the tangible, physical ache of it. more often than not, jin guangyao tucks his hands into his sleeves to hide the way his fingertips shake.

anyway this is my petition for jiang yanli to take two looks at this situation and promptly wrinkle her brows just the slightest amount, expressing quiet concern to jin zixuan that it’s strange how she doesn’t see anybody touch his half-brother very much, does she? and jin zixuan is a little confused, a little embarrassed, a little off-balance - he doesn’t feel close enough to jin guangyao to be that casual, but he’s an alpha, he doesn’t get it until jiang yanli explains to him, with a beta’s patience, the value of family bonds to an omega as well as jin zixuan’s responsibility as a brother (older brother? younger? his father claims older, but there’s no way to truly know - ), and isn’t it wonderful, having a little brother?

and then someone pats jin guangyao over the head until he’s feeling a little less strung-thin and out of options, he realizes he has to keep jin zixuan and jiang yanli alive lest he actually lose his mind (sympathy for da-ge? oh no...), and etc etc things end happily ever after, the end, QED.

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