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tsuyoiqueen · 2 years

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I have no excuse for this but I've been listening to Finally /// beautiful stranger by Halsey and tonight at uni I saw a couple dancing together at the bus stop, just one spinning the other and swaying to no music, and I immediately thought that Hob would do that do Morpheus so have this, i guess?

read on ao3

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Morpheus is not often distracted, certainly not when his negligence might result in the damnation of his realm and his creations, and after a century of imprisonment in a glass orb with no room for breathing, neither in the waking world.

Yet, somehow, between one sentence and another, he finds he can no longer discern what Hob Gadling had been saying. Although, his lover is not to blame. Even now that their meetings have become weekly (sometimes, daily) appointments, he's remained just as intrigued with Hob's fascination for the world he's spent the last six centuries in as he was when his 'project' had just begun.

In truth, he could not explain when his attention drifted away, but one moment he's staring at the display of the cellphone Hob is presenting to him, bright, colorful figures and a myriad of possibilities ("It's like holding a bloody computer in the palm of your hand!") and the next his mind has brought... certain details into sharp focus.

Such as the callouses on the hand Hob is holding the device with, acquired from years brandishing a sword into battle. Or the manner in which his other hand gestures at every word he says, waving and drawing patterns in the air as if to keep Morpheus entertained. Perhaps, it did too much of a good job.

Alas, the Lord of the Dreaming must have forgotten to pretend he was listening, because, suddenly, he feels a strong pull towards Hob and had he been human, his heart would have leaped in his chest at the motion.

Belatedly, he realizes the 'pull' was actually his lover's hand on the small of his back, drawing him closer. Even after the distance between them has been reduced to a hairs breadth, Hob's arms encircle his waist in a firm hold, but still loose enough that he can escape the embrace if he so wishes. He does not.

Hob grins, victoriously, as he does on any occasion where Morpheus allows physical contact. This time, however, he does not let go after the silence stretches on. If anything, his smile widens, and he begins to sway his body side to side slowly, step by step, leading Morpheus into what can only be a makeshift waltz.

Except, there's something missing.

"Hob?" Morpheus finds his voice, at last.

Hob doesn't miss a beat, "Yes, love?" The endearment is spoken so casually it threatens to distract him again, but Morpheus cannot afford to make a fool of himself with a dancing partner.

And so, he points out, "There is no music playing."

Hob snorts, amused, "I'm aware, Morpheus." Then, he steps back, takes Morpheus' hand in his and twirls him to the left. For once, Morpheus follows his lead.

Still, "Then, what is the purpose of this?"

A pause. Hob stops swaying and blinks at him, baffled. There is indeed no music playing but you could hear a pin drop in Hob's living room. An Endless should not be familiar with feelings such as anxiety and dread, so Morpheus catalogues the different emotions in the brown of Hob's eyes whilst he waits. They're his favorite part of his beloved; young in appearence but aged by the passage of time and all the beauty and horrors they've witnessed.

He tenses up when Hob sighs, but relaxes at the gentleness in his gaze. It is a familiar look, the one Hob gets whenever Morpheus dares to question something so simple and so mundane: equally fond and exasperated.

"My dear, sweet Dream, here's another lesson on humanity," Hob resumes their waltz, unbothered. "We don't always need a reason, a purpose, to do something. Sometimes, we do it just because."

Morpheus blinks, slow and cat-like. "Just because?" He demands a better explanation.

Hob is laughing now, but not at him. "That's right! Things like having a glass of wine even though we're not thirsty, or falling asleep even when we're not tired, or dancing with a lover when there's no music playing." He gestures at the two of them. "These are some of the simple pleasures of life."

Simple pleasures, that sounds like something his sibling, Desire, would appreciate to hear. Morpheus cannot find it in himself to complain, though. He understands it. "I see." A small, not so rare smile follows his answer.

Hob's eyebrows climb up to his hairline. "You do?" He spins Morpheus in his arms again, but his eyes never leave his lover, even as they part and reunite in their dance.

Morpheus hums, "Is it not similar to when I prepared a meal for you in your kitchen, even though I do not require food?"

The mention of the occurrence seems to surprise Hob. He sputters, choking a little. "Yeah, that- that definitely counts, love. Oh, don't go pouting at me now, I did enjoy it! It lacked salt and you probably forgot a few ingredients, but I imagine you haven't cooked for anyone in a while."

He hadn't, but Hob had taken it as his mission to feed Morpheus whenever he visited him in the waking world. It was only fair he returned the favor, especially when food is one of the wonders of life Hob never seems to tire of.

However, he's too prideful to admit to it just yet. "What use does it have for one such as I? I rule the dreams of men, assembling a feast should be no problem. I require only the will and creativity of my dreamers."

Hob shakes his head, as if he's heard it all before. He concedes, "Never said you couldn't, darling, but don't think I'm an ungrateful bugger! It was perfect for me. Did I not eat everything you prepared?"

Morpheus takes that into consideration, though he doesn't need to. Hob is daydreaming about the day his lover welcomed him home with dinner and, more importantly, his presence at the table.

He smiles, bashful, and compromises. "Apologies, I shall try again soon, for my beloved."

Hob marvels at the proposition. "You don't have to... But would you really, for me?" In spite of his refusal, his face lights up.

Morpheus doesn't say, I would overthrow kingdoms for you, condemn your enemies to eternal sleep and haunt their nightmares religiously. I would lay waste to the waking world if you asked and risk Destiny's wrath. There is very little I would not sacrifice.

Instead, he raises Hob's hand to his lips and places a chaste kiss on the back. A promise, an oath sworn by the King of Dreams. He is not unfamiliar with devotion, after all.

He says, "Perhaps, my sister could advise me on the matter. She has excellent taste in food."

"Perhaps." Hob agrees.

And Morpheus holds on to his vows, as they begin to dance anew.

#the sandman #the sandman netflix #dream of the endless #morpheus #hob gadling #dreamling #arywrites #fanfic #fluff #i don't know how to tag this lmao #just a short thing i've written ig #can i even call this my first dreamling fic?#i just want them to be happy #i have no idea if this makes sense #it's 12 AM and i'm sleep deprived and i have work at 6 in the morning please spare me #hope morpheus will give me good dreams after this #i just love writing on his pov #also listen to beautiful stranger #otp: centennial boyfriends

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jamietwat · 6 months

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Time loop fic set during season 2 when Jamie’s back around but Roy isn’t coaching yet where it takes Jamie and Roy an embarrassing amount of do-overs before they finally realize they’re both caught in it because for days Jamie goes over to Keeley’s place and antagonizes Roy in basically the exact same way because he thinks making the same stupid old man jokes all the time is funny anyway and any slight changes in conversation he just assumes is because he showed up at a different time or worded his own end of the conversation a little differently but Roy’s still basically saying the same grumpy old man shit anyway

And Roy makes basically the same retorts every time because he stands by it and he assumes Jamie shows up at slightly different times looking for Keeley as a butterfly effect of his morning with Keeley being different but that there’s no escaping him showing up to be a little bitch at some point

And like they both sometimes tell people but not the same people on the same version of the day so Keeley individually thinks that both of them are losing it on different versions of the day before eventually they both mention it

And then on like day 5 of the same day over and over Jamie doesn’t show up and Roy is irrationally angry about it but thinks it must be somehow connected to the fact that he was acting absolutely insane with Keeley trying to explain what’s happening while she thought he was fucking with her and somehow that made her brush off Jamie and him not show up or something?

And it takes Jamie showing up at 100 and just tearing Roy apart and going on about what a dick he is (which isn’t unusual but isn’t how this routine goes) and weirdly fixating on how he was excited to meet Roy but then he ended up just being an old washed up prick that never even gave him a chance because Jamie figures he can just show up, yell at Roy for all the reasons he’s so fixated on being a little asshole with a grudge against Roy in particular to get it out of his system, and then never have to deal with any consequences of Roy finding out about the whole embarrassing having been a big fan and expecting it to be so cool to play on a team with him just to immediately get offended that Roy didn’t give a shit about him and his bullshit and so Jamie ended up hating him thing

But instead Roy just scowls at him and is like “that’s not what you’re supposed to say” and Jamie’s like “…what.” And Roy’s like I’ve done this day like ten times already and either I make Keeley think I’m certifiable first thing in the morning and you don’t show up or else you show up looking for her and then make the same completely uncreative old man jokes at me and Jamie’s like what the fuck I’ve been doing this same day over and over and you’ve been making the same shitty jokes that weren’t funny the first time over and over again

And Keeley’s just sitting there watching this like “Are you two fucking with me? I can’t believe you two got along long enough to plan whatever the fuck this is.” And honestly, the fact that she couldn’t imagine them ever getting along to plan this stupid joke and agree on it is the main reason she actually starts to believe them that time in an okay either I’ve completely lost it or you two are stuck in a time loop kind of way and when she starts going on about how every time loop movie there’s like a moral the person has to learn and maybe they’re both caught in it because they’re supposed to learn how to get along and be friends and Roy’s supposed to take Ted’s offer and that’s how Jamie finds out about the Ted trying to convince Roy to coach thing

But they’re both like fuck no absolutely not, that’s not it and I’d rather be stuck in this stupid fucking loop forever than voluntarily spend time with him let alone get along (as if Jamie hasn’t shown up to annoy him practically every version of the day and Roy hasn’t just been sitting there waiting for him every time) and then they actively avoid each other for like a week’s worth of versions of the same day before they start considering that Keeley might have been on to something but it still takes three more days of pointedly not seeking the other out and waiting for the other to give in first before they run into each other at Ted’s place anyway and finally start actually swapping information they’ve picked up from their loops and what they’ve tried changing to try to get out and discussing ways to try to get out of it while Ted’s just sitting there cracking jokes and making annoyingly similar to what Keeley said comments about how in time loop and body switch things it’s always that you have to learn to see things from another perspective and be nicer to someone you don’t usually see eye to eye with before you can get out (Ted doesn’t actually believe they’re stuck in a time loop though, he’s just going well weird hypothetical but I’ll play along if this almost certainly made up scenario is what it takes for them to have an actual conversation with each other)

#Roy’s going to be PISSED when he shows up agreeing to coach and start right then one of the versions of the day insisting he’s only doing #it to get out of the day or rule it out as the answer and instead he LOVES IT and then wakes up on the same fucking day anyway #So he not only has to admit that he actually wants to coach and other people were right but he’s also right fucking back again anyway #But he’s also still in his coach everyone but Jamie era at that point and he’s gonna have to not be before they get out #I have more thoughts but I am tired #Jamie not showing up actually had nothing to do with anything Roy or Keeley did he was just trying doing other shit #Might eventually write this as like a pair of fics in a series one from Roy’s pov and one from Jamie’s pov where their versions of the same #days get posted in the same chapters of each #This is another thing for the pile of things I might turn into something eventually #Ted Lasso #Jamie Tartt #Roy Kent #RoyJamie #Keeley Jones #Roy x Keeley x Jamie #Mine

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wikiangela · 25 days

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fuck it friday

tagged by @tizniz @bidisasterbuckdiaz @honestlydarkprincess 💖💖

still on my bucktommy bs, I'll be back to buddie but i'm too obsessed with tommy/lou to think about anything else rn lol

so here's a bit of something short I'm wiriting for 7x05 from tommy's pov, idk what this is, what it's gonna be, but I wanna finish it tonight or maybe by the end of the weekend so posting it here to motivate myself and also tell me what y'all think bc the more i reread all of it the more i doubt myself lol

___

It took him some time, plus a lot of self-reflection and just taking it one step at a time, letting himself look at other men, this time consciously and sometimes deliberately, noticing how hot they are, how they make him feel. He let himself feel how they make him feel. It took a minute to stop feeling guilty and ashamed, and to rework all those internalized prejudices that had been ingrained in him his whole life.

He gave himself time, a lot of time, started with just chatting with guys on dating apps, later got the courage for some casual dates, and when he met the man who would be his first actual boyfriend, his first gay relationship, that he genuinely liked, he felt ready to pursue that. It didn’t work out then, that’s just life, but it was a good relationship, because he was ready for it. Now he feels settled and comfortable with himself, feels confident, and knows what he wants. And he wants- he wants love. He doesn’t want to put any pressure on any relationship he might start, but ultimately, that’s the goal. Love.

He really doesn’t mind being this first to Evan. He likes Evan. He has those bright blue eyes that seem to shine their own light, and that wide, excited smile that makes it impossible not to smile back, with that adorable dimple accompanying it, that makes Tommy melt a little every time he sees it. Plus, those perfect, kissable lips he can’t wait to taste again, and the distinctive birthmark just adding to the charm. And he’s big and strong and so hot, too. And he’s just so nice, and so adorable and endearing, and he’s so easy to talk to. Tommy just wants to keep getting to know him, spend time with him, develop this relationship and see where it can go. And with any luck, maybe this one could last, could be something real.

The thing is, Tommy is ready for serious. He can take it slow, give Evan time to figure everything out, but he’d also like to know where he stands. He would never want to pressure him to come out before he’s ready, but he also knows he doesn’t want to be anyone’s dirty little secret. Been there, done that.

Still, he would be fine with keeping it just to him and Evan for now, for as long as Evan needs. But then…

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no pressure tags: @elvensorceress @thebravebitch @shortsighted-owl @eddiebabygirldiaz @watchyourbuck @eowon @loserdiaz @evanbegins @ladydorian05 @wildlife4life @diazpatcher @lover-of-mine @monsterrae1 @thewolvesof1998 @neverevan @weewootruck @loveyouanyway @spagheddiediaz @rainbow-nerdss @epicbuddieficrecs @pirrusstuff @spotsandsocks @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove @nmcggg @rogerzsteven @giddyupbuck @sunshinediaz @underwater-ninja-13 @exhuastedpigeon @911-on-abc @jesuisici33 @steadfastsaturnsrings @theotherbuckley @buddieswhvre @dangerpronebuddie @diazsdimples @fortheloveofbuddie @hoodie-buck @your-catfish-friend @hippolotamus @daffi-990

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wisepuma23 · 8 months

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Knives and forks clink against the dinner plates, metal scraping and laughter, their base drips with water from above. Drip, drip, drip. Impulse watches. It seeps into the center of the table, a growing patch on the wooden grain. Right between the steaks and loaves of warm bread. Nobody pays it any mind. Drip, drip.

(…Nobody but him.)

Etho says something he doesn’t catch, a bark of laughter from Tango. Beads of water splash onto the surrounding food.

Impulse’s hold on his fork goes tight.

He needs to fix that.

“Impulse buddy, you with us?” Skizz shakes his arm, “You agree Scar’s acting weird right?”

“Yeah yeah,” Impulse answers on auto-pilot, “I heard rumors he’s been trying to get kills. Yellow Scar, man.”

Tango cackles and the conversation cycles on. Impulse steels his jaw, he can’t zone out again. Keep pretending, he reminds himself. It wouldn’t be good to stab his teammates at the dinner table. He’d have to clean the table out. Maybe pull out the entrails from the cracks in the grain of wood.

(Drip, drip.)

No, focus.

Focus.

(A faint, metallic scent permeates his senses– gone in a moment.)

Impulse bites into a piece of steak. Buttery juice slides over his tongue and between his teeth. The taste of blood makes his grip on the fork creak. For what feels like the first time in millenia, his glamor itches at his skin. The careful control over his form twitches and squirms like a coiled snake poised to strike.

Show them what you really are, hums in his mind. The dripping echoes like a wardrum. Show them your true face.

Impulse licks at his lips, “You did a nice job, Tango. It’s delicious!”

“Aww!” Tango coos, his flames crackling a soft orange-red, “Etho lent me some seasoning but he won’t tell me where he got the happy happy sauce.”

Impulse takes another bite, canines digging into flesh and bone, and the rip is loud. Or is it loud for him? Again, infernal magic bubbles at the back of his throat. He swallows, appraising the flavor. It doesn’t drown out the sickly sulfur like he hoped.

“Bdubs?” Impulse guesses with a tease.

“Oh come on,” Etho groans, “Ah I guess that was way too easy.”

“He married me too, remember?” Impulse laughs at Etho’s expression, “Can’t blame me for forgetting the best meals I’ve ever had! Bet he’s feeding his family around now.”

Etho waves him off as they cackle at the blush rushing up past the mask. Impulse cuts another piece off the bone. Rip, snrk, clink. Idly, he wonders if human skin still made the same noise.

The clink of metal against the plates, the dull pounding of water. The snap-crackle of Tango’s fire. Buttery-sweet blood coats his tongue.

He remembers the musky smell of Etho's burning hair and flesh, his screams turned into bloody gurgles as he flailed in lava in the first game. Just minutes before everything ended.

Impulse tears off a chunk of meat.

(Snrrk, clink.)

People die in so many ways. It’s why he loves the variety poison provides— stomachs twisting and lungs seizing— and yet he wonders if anybody’s tried skinning someone, if the server would even allow it.

Impulse swallows a dark laugh, is vivisection on the table? His glamor shivers.

Metal catches the light, the smooth shimmer taking him back. To sharp arrowheads and snapping magma, to a castle reaching into the sky.

He remembers a golden clock.

(Rip, snrk, clink.)

Impulse remembers the way Bdubs’ flesh bubbled and blistered from the Wither. The way his Red bloodlust sang at the way his corpse crumpled to the ground. Bdubs’ skin growing dark, mottled with blackened streaks and bruised from the Withering and regular battle.

The worst of it healed over, scars stitched into flesh. But he’d be a liar if he said he didn’t revel in it, the stained canvas left on Bdubs’ face and arms.

He kissed that face. Peppering them along wither-cracked ribs and arms, tracing every dark and poisoned line with a smile. I’m sorry, he had said. I’m sorry.

He meant it. (Yes, really.)

Impulse hadn’t meant to curse Bdubs with chronic pain and scars, especially since he had to feel the echoes of it through the soulmate bond. He loved Bdubs. Loved him since the beginning.

And he remembers the rip-schk! of the ax in his back.

The way his blood pooled on the grass as everything went dark.

The phantom feeling of Pearl’s wolves tearing flesh from bone in long strips and bites. Riiiip-snrk-crunch.

Blood dripping from between their teeth.

(Drip, drip.)

Impulse stabs his fork a little harder into the next cut, picturing a handsome face with a cute and crooked grin. Damn him. He glares down at his plate. No, focus. Pretend, he tells himself, you’re good at that, aren’t you?

There’s a hand over his, warmer than it should be. He looks up.

Tango has cocked an eyebrow up with a cute little nose crinkle, “You in?”

Impulse blinks, the words registering in his head.

“Yeah, sure,” He grins, “A walk sounds great. I think I’m tired of Skizz’s stink overpowering the place. We really need to install some ventilation.”

“Hey!”

And they laugh, bright and loud as Skizz pouts, checking his armpits. The glasses shake as Tango rattles the table with a smack, a cackle on his lips. Etho’s eyes twinkle with amusement.

Impulse’s focus drifts. Back to the present, away from the blood.

(Drip, drip.)

And yet.

(Rip, snrrk, clink.)

…The hunger prevails.

#impdubs #ethubs #trafficshipping #impulsesv #limited life smp #demon impulse #my writing #puma writes #trafficblr #trafficshipblr #for anyone that's confused this is about Boogey Impulse #im truly so insane about his pov in limlife about it #he's soooooo fucked up and I love the idea that the boogey curse directly taps into his demonic urges #which he only shows in N&S and ZITS #impulse is sweet bc he wants to survive as people do kill all the “evil” demons they come across and that's in the past now haha #ANYWAY impulse struggling to keep his glamor on when he usually forgets its there and just hhhh #tangpulse

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comic-sans-chan · 8 months

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obsessed with julian asking "what did they do to you? is it some kind of punishment device?" in the wire because my god if this man didn’t go from "this is garak my super cool spy pal who i go on secret missions with and sometimes fuck teehee but also yeah his planet’s kinda fucked up and he’s got some weird ideas but we’re working on it" to "this is garak he's my precious little angel babyman who has been horribly traumatized and brainwashed by his government but it's okay because i'm a doctor and i will fuck and suck the fascism out of him if it’s the last thing i do" in just two years. shit's wild

#i'm having a moment #again #my posts #garashir #julian that entire episode is really just ''the power of love compels you!!!!!!!'' i can't stand him #garak was blorbo from julian's shows for a hot minute there and julian was writing all kinds of woobified fanfiction about him #like i've cried a hundred times over the wire from garak's pov cuz i see it as the episode where he started to respect and love him fr fr #but for julian i think it was more of an eye-opener like. he wanted to exonerate garak of all his crimes to try to justify his crush on him #and i don't think the wire exactly proved him wrong... but i do think it revealed key details and context that he was missing before #like that garak wasn't just some underling spy he was almost the head of his organization #basically garak canonballed julian's beloved headcanons so he had to start from scratch #obsessed w garak recognizing that julian had romanticized him and being like ''ok but what if i'm just a bloodthirsty killer? what then?''#like they went thru All That just for julian to meet tain and come back like #''Your Boss Dad Is Evil The Plan To Heal You With My Dick Is Back On''#gold star for trying i guess but ur gonna be loved no matter what apparently

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charmac · 10 months

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Mac doesn't seem to think Dennis' System for Men is all that effective, but it's perfected, tried and true. In fact, it's so effective that a professional could run it through in under five minutes:

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“You don’t think The S.I.N.N.E.D. System would work on you?” Dennis asks, ignoring the rest of Mac’s gibberish sentence. “Clearly not,” Mac replies simply. “You don’t think I could, very easily,” Dennis steps up to him and grips his bicep. “Huh,” he wonders aloud. “What?” Mac replies, looking down at the fingers wrapped tightly around his muscle. “Nothing, I just didn’t realize your arms were still so,” he runs his tongue across his bottom lip, “firm. I mean, you’re hiding those muscles behind these long t-shirts now,” he pulls at the fabric of Mac’s shirt, pressing against his arm, and then pushes his hand up underneath it. “You’re still pumping, huh?” He meets Mac’s eyes. “You—you think they’re firm?” Mac asks, eyes lit up in response. “Yeah,” Dennis nods, running his hand up and down the bare skin. “Hey, I just remembered,” he squeezes Mac’s bicep again and then lets go, “The headboard on my bed is still messed up from when we moved the furniture back in. One of the beams is stuck at the wrong angle and, well, I haven’t been able to get it back into place myself, embarrassingly,” he says. “Do you think you could use those muscles to help me out? It’s pretty heavy.” “Dude, why didn’t you ask me earlier? It’s been like, two weeks. Of course I can.” Mac’s already moving for his bedroom, on a mission. And Dennis has completely fucking lied about the headboard, of course, there’s no fucking beams on that thing, it was just the first lie that came to mind, so he has to trot after Mac’s speed-walking to intervene. Dennis almost bumps into him as he enters his bedroom, just behind Mac, who’s frowning at Dennis’ headboard as he approaches it. Dennis grabs his shoulder and spins him. “Man, I totally forgot Dee came by and fixed it this morning,” he lies. Mac eyebrows crinkle, “Dee was here this morning?” “Well,” Dennis chuckles a little, “I’d never say it in front of her, obviously, but I think we can probably both admit she’s a little stronger than you.” His hand presses into Mac’s shoulder firmly, fingers gripping on, preparing for the reaction. “Not funny, Dennis,” Mac frowns, voice raising. “Take it back.” Dennis rolls his fingers, drumming into Mac’s shoulder, and hums. “Too bad you can’t prove it. Headboard is fixed.” His left hand finds Mac’s chest and pushes on it, walking him backward until the back of his knees are pressed up against the mattress. Mac’s visibly at a loss for words, his eyes stuck on Dennis’ own. “Unless you wanted to break it?” His hand slides from Mac’s shoulder and meets his other one against Mac’s chest. Mac frowns, his eyes dropping to the two hands. “Why would I—,” Dennis pushes with enough force to catch Mac off guard and send him down to the mattress. “What the hell, Dennis?” By the time he looks up, Dennis is dropping into his lap and gripping his shoulder again. He watches Mac’s pupils dilate fully in a second. “Oh,” he stutters in realization, mouth hanging open. Dennis runs his thumb over his open bottom lip and dips it into Mac’s mouth, hooking the inside of his cheek. Mac’s lips close around the appendage slowly, never breaking eye contact with Dennis. Thumb enclosed in a wet heat, Dennis pushes Mac down until he’s lying back on the bed fully and he’s hanging over the man.

“Suck,” Dennis tells him, and Mac does. He sucks on his thumb gently, tongue slotting right underneath the digit and sliding perfectly. Dennis is mesmerized for a moment, just watching Mac’s cheeks hollow as he obeys, never breaking his fixated gaze on Dennis as his suckling gets heavy and wet. He snaps out of his daze quickly and lets go of his press on Mac’s shoulder, digging into the back pocket of his jeans and pulling out a travel packet of tissues. He yanks his thumb from Mac’s mouth and shifts off of him, finding his feet and staring down at the man laid out on his bed. He pulls a tissue free from the packet and hands it out to Mac. “Clean your face,” he tells him. “Your lips are covered in spit.”

Mac takes it blindly, of course he does, and wipes his mouth aggressively. As he does so, Dennis fights everything in his body telling him to just give up and stay rooted, just in case, and makes himself turn around, heading for the door.

“Dennis!” Mac yells out. “Hey, dude, what the hell was that about?” He’s up on his feet, Dennis can tell. He slows his pace, but doesn’t dare stop completely. “Where are you going?” Mac’s hand falls on his shoulder, and Dennis spins, a stupid grin of triumph plastering his face as he meets confused, doe eyes. Mac frowns at the expression that meets him, then looks down at the tissue in his hand and wildly back up to Dennis, attempting to throw the paper-thin cloth to the ground. Dennis chuckles as it floats to the floor between them. “You tricked me.”

“I proved you wrong,” Dennis replies simply.

---

I'm working on a fic and I got derailed and wrote this. Not sure it'll be included in the fic, so I wanted to share it instead (or, in the meantime)

#iasip #macdennis #fic excerpt #the sinned system #god i love stupid mac #the best part of writing dennis pov is cymbals clapping in his brain mac #and dennis is not being manipulative here to be clear #just annoyed with mac per the context of the situation #and they’ve already fucked before it’s all good

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seventh-fantasy · 6 months

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okay... idk at all if this has been discussed or that I'm just stating the obvious. I'm posting any way to get more feedback.

so. can we be sure that the last boat scene even happened (in the way we saw it at least)

yeah the letter was delivered to the intended recipients. the letter also did say 李相夷绝笔 lit. the final writing by li xiangyi. there's a brief exchange between him and the assumed "boatman" asking him where he was going. and we see he spat blood while writing yeah but:

llh/lxy's eyesight had been failing for some time.

Professional Letter Writers are a thing in the past in service to people who can't write their own letters (idk enough to verify the historical accuracy in this specific context though)

what has been bugging me since forever is the manner of speech of the letter. yeah it's different from their everyday speech, but that's actually perfectly fine since this is A Letter so I'm good with it being more formal. but... there's something I just can't quite pinpoint. especially with the use of the 君 jun pronoun by llh/lxy to refer to dfs when there could be other pronouns with less connotations of intimacy (and scholarly/imperial court system) implied and still conveyed cordiality, marking a shift in their relationship. (I'm not well versed with wuxia as a genre enough to know what are the conventions. someone else who does can say something though.)

whatever these put together means (eg. he may not have written the letter personally, or he wrote it in a different situation from what we saw, etc etc.) alongside:

this scene existed only as part of a visualisation as the letter content is revealed to the audience (or assumed to be fdb reading the letter to dfs & guests of the wedding spectators of the duel)

the boat lxy/llh jumped on is not the same as the one he was writing the letter on - the boatman is also not on it despite the conversation at the beginning, but lxy/llh's dressing and hairpin are the same as the ones before he jumped. (the boatman delivered the letter so he's real though.)

also as @wonderfulnonsense happened to have just pointed out in the tags left in my other post: it's in fact the same boat he took to go fight dfs at donghai 10 years ago. (edit: or maybe it isn't? as pointed out by anon.)

if we viewed whatever we perceived in this scene as imaginary (not what actually happened), then the reading of it being a metaphor for lxy/llh being on his way to enlightenment just makes sense. (the boat being a carrier on his spiritual transformations.) especially when you consider that 彼岸 the other shore is another concept in buddhism to represent enlightenment, alongside the motif of lotuses. (credits to @markiafc for the buddhism reading - edit: mark's meta here) and then, consider the beach ending... yeah.

#莲花楼 #mysterious lotus casebook #my posts #lhl #lhlmeta #断剑又绝笔......#this was a question / discussion brought up internally but i wanted more feedback / ideas so. and also for the record #but ofc...if there are details missed out that completely prove this wrong then pretend i never wrote this #pls blame it on the brainrot #lhl discussion of the day is buddhism meta.#taoism and buddhism readings loving hand in loving hand.#honestly i did not think of the story specifically as a path of enlightenment until i was writing the meta #and then it was a downward spiral there on.#it makes a lot of sense given how it's a story about cultivation of the personage (and the struggles of it)#which is the goal of all chinese ideologies. not just taoism and buddhism. they just have different answers #mark is gonna come back with a massive buddhism meta. i'm excited and afraid #also the detail i am sitting on is what is the significance of him signing off as lxy. on top of his r/s with dfs being from lxy's pov.#considering the way he has been identifying with lxy ever since he took over llh as an identity.#PLUS when i first heard lxy thanking dfs for the wangchuan flower. the chinese didn't include the subject of flower #i thought he was talking about 忘川 METAPHORICALLY bc i forgot that was the name of the flower HJBJHHJBJHB #yeah so like this is the river of oblivion he's on or wtv (i'm just babbling now)#also i said INTENDED RECIPIENTS. but the envelope cover is also interestingly empty. though boatman knew who it was meant for

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myers-meadow · 9 days

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Rolan and/or Gale each wanting to show off for Tav with a display of magic but, instead of just doing it Tav in front of Tav, he puts on a little show of his magic for a group of people (the boy is nervous); he makes sure Tav gets the best spot in the audience, up towards the front and closer to him. However, when he inevitably glances over to gauge Tav's reaction, he catches Tav not looking admiringly around his display but instead admiringly at him.

ah such a cute one!

I do see Rolan easily getting startled by Tav's admiring gaze... Tips of his ears get a lil hot maybe ✨. Also, did he do all this work to impress them for nothing?? At least they seem impressed...

The nail in the coffin of being down bad for Tav, would be them coming up to him afterwards and hugging him, before showing him in compliments. He boasts about his techniques, enough to have Cal and Lia roll their eyes, but you listen💕🌻. Catch the two of you ending the night later than anyone else, under the star light he shows you magic that's only meant for your eyes;;

#Ask #Anon #Stray cat anon #Bg3 headcanons #bg3 rolan #rolan x tav #Rolan is just so;;; idk #His lil outbursts;; after getting the tieflings back I want him to come up to me when I'm alone and say sorry #And I tell him he's right and then I offer him a drink #And it turns to a surprisingly fun evening where I expected a heavier one #And jokingly I'll offer that he can take out his frustrations on me bc it's not an easy life and I can take it #Surprise as he just goes for it immediately and kisses me harshly; dragging me upstairs #Anyway so normal abt rolan #Secretly I love first person writing but I know it's the most hated POV. Sorry abt that but oh well

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sciderman · 6 months

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Were Peter and Harry properly a thing? Or was it more of a spur of the moment hook-up?

in 9319? it was just two sordid nights – and sweet, sweet lingering trauma...

harry so nice, peter had to have it twice.

#sci speaks #ask-spiderpool #the fic is non-explicit! and kind of vital reading to get into peter's head and all his baggage.#this fic honest to god caused me so much psychic damage to write. and i've been trapped in peter's brain ever since.#i can't get out. let me OUT. it's such a horrifying MESS up in here.#i'm really glad i wrote this because. god. peter has so many more dimensions now than he did prior.#peter levelled up so much in the ask-spiderpool revival #it's so funny because if harry didn't rear his head then peter was going to be relegated to the supportive boyfriend role.#but no sir. he's got his own messes to clean. and he's kind of become the pov character now.#which is so fun! because wade always used to be the pov character before. how the turntables...#i think boys night might be my favourite bit of writing i've done for 9319. in some messed up sort of way.#i really wish everyone'd read it.#the harry stuff in 9319 is some of my most favouritest stuff. it's so juicy. it's so juicy !!#i love the osborns kind of existing solely to get peter to question himself and face uncomfortable truths.#the osborns just being able to worm out everything that peter parker supresses. all his anger and all of his... ugly.#delicious. smacks lips.

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puppetmaster13u · 8 months

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Even More Meat Marionette Au

But a lil drabble <3 Because my ADHD snatched this au and isn't letting go.

There were tunnels under Gotham.

Everyone knew about them, even if they were rarely spoken of. There were tales about them, some whispered in hushed voices from mother to child, others creeping across withered pages stained with age. Stories of creatures, of living shadows, of men going mad, wailing about the things beneath.

No one went into the tunnels.

Not purposely at least.

For one Bruce Wayne, he had fallen the first time- slipped into a well after a night of rain and into those dark caves with stone as black as night and just as stained with blood as the rest of the city.

No one had gone down for a long time, and no one should have gone down for longer still, but the rain had made the crumbling stones slick, the child reaching just a hint too far, and so down he went, nails scrabbling against unyielding rock and blood dripping from soft skin.

The child did not scream, even if his terror was sweet in the air as his blood mixed with the water soaking his clothes. He did not stay, just like the others before him, but the caves remembered the sweetness of the fear he brought.

No one went into the tunnels, not anymore.

Yet the child did.

Oh he wasn’t a child anymore, not to humans, but to the ancient caves, he was still but an infant. He’d eventually leave, and they’d still be there. They had been there long before, and they’d be long after even when the city turned to dust in the sands of time.

And yet…

And yet.

Yet he kept returning, night after night and day after day, running a hand along the stone that should have chilled him to the bone. His fear was still ever so sweet in the air, even if it was lessening over the time. It was… curious.

There was still the scent of fear, of terror coming from the human, but it also wasn’t. It was coming from him, but it wasn’t his own fear.

The emotion clung to him, but it wasn’t his. It was others’ fear, others’ fear he was bringing down to the cavernous tunnels. Others’ fear he was feeding It, unknowing or not. A gift, a meal, something for It and It alone.

It was only polite to return the favor, to gift the little human something to fight and terrify. As much as the spilled blood pleased It, the tunnels understood that it would be far better for Its little human to stay healthy, to be able to bring blood not his own.

The city was always full of corpses and the tunnels stretched far longer than humans realized after all, It could reach any who fell. Purposeful deaths, accidental, it made no difference to the bloodstained stone beneath.

It would call to Its little human soon enough, Its gift was nearly complete after all. Something to fly without the creaking metal or suits of wires. Something new, something It hadn’t formed before.

After all, what use would It have for a living body? What use did flesh and stone need to move? It had been here for a long time, and It would be here longer still, but perhaps, perhaps just this once another would last past the crumbling of life and bones turning to dust.

A gift, from the tunnels to him.

For one Bruce Wayne, who had returned to them with sacrifices of flesh and blood and fear each night. For one child who had fallen and returned to the depths of the tunnels, for one child that was Its.

This is a combo of my Au & @phoenixcatch7's and you need to check out their Possessed Doll Au because it's amazing <3<3

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cherryrockpops · 22 days

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"Surprise V!"

Kerry smiles as V walks in. He gets up and leads the merc upstairs.

"Whaddya think? It's my old threads, back when I was still playin' at any bar that would take me. Found it while rummaging through my closet."

Kerry sits down and combs back some of his hair, smirking confidently.

"Still suits me, right?

#cyberpunk 2077 #cp2077 #phantom liberty #kerry eurodyne #kerry 79 #virtual photography #going feral #salt and pepper daddy #dunno what inspired me to try and write a little POV bit but I did XD #love the idea of him just greeting you in one of his old fav outfits

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lesbianangeldust · 2 months

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I have a lot of fun writing the huskerdust dialogue in my fic but its also SO hard aauuughhh. theyre both sharp and witty and its tough to tap into that. it's hard when it's other people's characters cuz I wanna do them justice!!!

#this chapter is from angels pov since the last one was husk and its a LOT of dialogue #husk is easier to write cuz i can write whats going on in his head AND what he says. whereas angel just yaps #like theres a lot of depth obvs but hes not addressing his feelings during these conversations. hes an act now think later kinda guy #but i also like writing his pov cuz hes a whole mood and i love writing a crazy bitch character #huskerdust #my posts

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jjsanguine · 1 year

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People who said "everything in episode 6 really happened but the dreamlike quality was because the recollection of events was distorted by the trauma of the accident" how does it feel to have the biggest brain

#jury's still out on whether the trauma is jae won's emotional trauma from seeing what looked like yet another person he loves die #or ji hyun's physical trauma that is his brain injury from being in a coma and whatever unnamed injuries require him to do physical therapy #a film analysis person could probably write an essay about this but the show is from both jae won and ji hyun's POV #so from my perspective the answer to ''is it ji hyun or jae won's trauma?'' is just ''yes''#i suppose ji hyun also has some emotional trauma related to almost dying but i feel like that's going to hit like later later #the eighth sense #jae won #ji hyun

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carnivalcarriondiscarded · 7 months

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yeehaw just wrote over 3k and i can't publish Any of it without miles of fantasy au context

#technically its a full scene and a half #brain: hey what if a solid thousand words was just silly puppets having breakfast #and then i said 'damn youre so right' and yeah. silly puppets having breakfast and arguing over ale vs mead #i love writing from barnaby's pov. im so unfunny that its ruining his reputation #i go There Could Be A Joke Here #but head Empty so there isn't one. i continue on. rinse and repeat #anyway big scene of barnaby and wally bonding #as i was writing i was honestly like 'the wallaby enjoyers would have a field day with this'#am i one of them? no. however i know my 'qp barnaby and wally' belief bleeds into my writing #so yk. its easily read either way.#of course i immediately counteract it by sprinkling in a laughingstock crumb or two but yk yk #fantasy au is so fun to chew on... everyone gets to say Fuck and threaten genuine violence...#absolutely unprompted #speaking of writing im actually going to Attempt nanowrimo this year #im gonna try to belt out the roughest rough draft of a standalone book idea #i still need to finish the outline but! im sure i can do that in 10 days!#but anyway ive been having so many fantasy au feelings lately idk why #i think i need to rewatch lotr! extended editions of course im not an animal.#well i am. but - yeah whatever yall get it #im craving that sweet sweet high fantasy & worldbuilding & high quality cinema

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resident-gay-bitch · 1 year

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steve’s pov here :)

prey.

lots of prey.

that’s what eddie knew.

he watched them enter his land through that… thing. that hole in the ground that let off a high pitched sound and kept him in line. it scared him and his brethren. none of them could go near it. it hurts if you do. they’ve all learnt the hard way, whilst trying to escape. it burns your body to touch and turns your brain dizzy.

but the prey passed through it without an issue.

eddie watched from the top of the tree he was perched in, crowded around by his resting family, his cousins and friends. he watched the prey make their way through his world, listened as his master told him to kill.

eddie attacked when they least expected it.

he swooped down and swiped at one of their necks with his claw. he would have gotten it, if that one with curly hair didn’t scream his name.

it sent eddie flying back- he recognised it, the voice. the face.

it wasn’t prey.

it was a friend.

eddie flew away. too scared of what would happen if he stayed.

he couldn’t stay.

his master was mad. beyond mad at him.

he threatened to kill eddie if he didn’t complete his task. he’d send his brethren on the prey and himself.

eddie didn’t want that. he wanted the prey to live, he thought. well… the curly haired one. he didn’t know about the rest. but if not for that curly haired one, eddie might let master carry out that promise. he didn’t like this world. it was cold and dark and he felt dirty and he only remembered pain.

he flew back to his home, to his nest in a place he felt most safe. a safe place that was still standing. his old home, the one with who he thinks is his father from the other world, now destroyed to the hole that was too big and too loud and hurt too much if he flew near it.

his home in the drama room at school. he’d dragged mattresses and pillows and blankets back into the changing room and built himself a nest, collected all his favourite things.

he had a pile for his father, flannelette shirts all piled up on a bunch of random mugs. he had his sweetheart there too. he’d been collecting dice from everywhere he could find them, all different shapes and colours, they were scattered around his nest, and he played with them when he got bored and couldn’t sleep. he had a picture frame shoved there somewhere with a photo of his mother, a flower pressed under the glass that was her namesake. it was the only name eddie could remember; petunia. and he had the mangled old teddy bear she gave him as a baby that he curled up with every night.

but he had his most favourite pile there too, at the place where he lay his head every night. in the pile was a green and white jacket with a name eddie couldn’t read written across the back. there were shirts and two jumpers, a red and a yellow one. he had three odd socks and one pair, and some underwear, and a singular sneaker. he’d taken them all from a large house on the nice looking side of this world, from a room he didn’t like very much, but he remembered the boy that owned all those things was very special to him.

he couldn’t remember his name or his face though, and eddie cried about it every night.

he pottered around his nest, moving his things about and settling down in it. he hurried out and to the other side of his home where he had a pile of things he’d collected that took up too much space in the nest. he sifted through them; some more mugs, a weird al shirt, a pair of drumsticks, some comics, a bunch of action figures, a green ribbon, an old year book, some novels, an acoustic guitar, car keys, a cheer skirt, journals, a lunchbox- all things that made his heart clench to look at, to touch, but he couldn’t remember why.

except for the yearbook.

when he found the yearbook he got so excited he’d stretched out his wings and started flying in the tiny little room. he knocked over a rack of costumes with them, fucked up his nest, and put a hole through the wall. he didn’t care though.

he had the year book almost permanently open to one page. a page he remembered looking at a lot when he was younger. on the page was him, the man that eddie couldn’t remember the name or face of. the one he loved so much. and beside him was another man with eddie’s old face! he’d made it. he remembered making it. he wrote something, but eddie couldn’t read that either.

after finding that year book, eddie looked at the page every day and every night, whenever he could. he often went to sleep with the page open, he’d sometimes just sit there and look at it. he’d draw his claw lightly over the man’s pretty face and sometimes he’d lick it when he particularly missed him.

oh eddie loved him so much.

so that’s what eddie did now. he sat down in his nest and drew over his pretty face and he stretched out his long tongue until it touched the page and then he smiled.

he smiled so much his heart squeezed.

he missed his boy.

but his master was not happy with him. he made eddie go back out to kill them.

eddie promised himself he wouldn’t kill the curly haired one.

he flew out until he found them, and then he swooped down over their heads to give the prey a scare and perched himself atop an electricity pole. he crouched there with his wings hanging heavy down behind him and looked at his next meal.

only, he didn’t attack. not straight away.

there was something familiar about one of them. the one holding a bat over his shoulder, scowling at eddie. he had floppy hair and strong shoulders. eddie thought he’d put up the biggest fight.

but there was something about him.

eddie cocked his head and looked at him some more. looking looking looking. trying to figure him out. he ignored everyone else. the man adjusted his grip on his weapon, ready to swing it at eddie if needed.

eddie moved his head forward because… no…

no it- it couldn’t be.

it was him.

the boy in the picture.

the one he loved!

he straightened his back out in a flesh, sitting up tall, perched on the pole, and he let out a screech of excitement. he hoped the man was just as excited as he was.

his love leered forward slightly, looking ready to fight… to protect. oh, he looked so strong and brave like that, ready to defend his own brethren. eddie admired him so much. he was so beautiful. so strong. so handsome.

eddie stretched his wings out and stood, he let out another thrilled sound because- oh, because he was here! the one he loved was here… in his world! and eddie could have him.

eddie clutched at his heart like he’d just been struck by cupids arrow and fell backwards off the pole, like he was fainting. he was swooning afterall. he hoped to impress this man too.

eddie had to impress him.

so he free fell and right before he hit the ground he stretched his wings out further and lifted himself high into the sky. way higher than he needed to go. he looked down at the one he loved and- oh goodness, he just couldn’t help himself. he tucked his wings around his body and nosedived straight for him.

it’s what he’d seen his family do, when they found their love. one would fly high in the sky and barrel roll into the other, catch them, and take flight again.

it was their mating ritual, so it’s what eddie would do.

he crashed into the pretty golden haired love and had to take a moment to just look at him as he wiggled around on the ground beneath eddie. eddie tired to pin him down, to show him he was safe… it was just eddie. he tried to communicate, clicking his tongue to say “hello, it’s me, i love you” but he didn’t seem to get it.

that was okay.

eddie would show him.

but before he had a chance his wing was struck with an immense amount of pain.

he stretched it out to look, and found a hole clean through it, and he lowered it just enough to see one of his prey, standing there, a gun aimed right at him.

you hurt me, eddie thought, you tore me.

he was going to make her death the most painful. save her for last.

he looked back at his love and grabbed him tight and lifted up info the air. it made him scream, and eddie thought it was a nice sound. similar to his own happy call. eddie really liked this man.

he took him to his home, sweeping through the crack in the roof, down into his little home, and he lay him down in his nest. his love is the only other being allowed anywhere near his home.

the last being to try - his brother and friend - was ripped to shreds by eddie’s own teeth. no one breached these walls again.

eddie laid him down and crawled back to sit by his loves legs, crouched there and waiting. he looked at him curiously. he looked quite different than the picture. he had lighter, floppier hair, and some scruffy fur around his mouth, and he had this thing on his face that made his eyes look a little bigger than usual, and… clothes. in the picture he only had little swim shorts on. eddie hoped his love might take these clothes off soon.

oh eddie thought he was just neat.

the perfect new item to make home of his nest. he’d keep him here forever, that was for sure.

he was eddie’s now.

he looked a little confused, but that was okay. eddie would help him understand anything he needed. all eddie wanted to do was look after his love.

oh. the picture. that would help him understand. that’s how eddie could tell him he loved him.

great idea!

he crawled over to get it, leaving his love in the nest for a little moment. he sifted through some of his other things before retrieving it. he grabbed the book with his teeth, and crawled back over to pretty man, and perched himself as close as possible. he dropped the book between his own feet and pressed his hands on top of it to keep it safe, and waited.

when he turned back around to look at eddie, he freaked out a little. eddie thought it was very sweet. eddie wanted to see every face this man could make, they were all so beautiful. he cocked his head to the side and looked at him some more, trying to figure him out.

to ask if this was okay.

his love held up the jacket with the name eddie couldn’t read. he looked at the jacket, then back at his love, then back at the jacket, then back at his love and he felt warmth bubble up in his chest. he purred, hoping to let his love know what this meant. hoping to let him know he was happy that he was here. that he wanted his love to wear the jacket.

eddie noticed how his love was wearing one thing that meant a lot to eddie himself. a vest. one covered in patches and pins that he used to wear every day. eddie lowered his head to bump his loves shoulder and blinked at him once.

“it’s yours.” his love said, and it made eddie’s heart flutter so much! he loved the sound of his voice. it was so soft and smooth and eddie wished he could talk the same. his love tugged at the sleeve of the vest, “i know, i’m sorry. i hope you don’t mind. it helped ground me on the bad days.”

don’t mind? don’t mind!?

why would eddie mind about that? this was the best day of his life. not only was his love here, but he was here and collecting eddie’s things too.

eddie cocked his head, trying to communicate that of course he was okay with it. that he was okay with anything his love wanted.

“can you understand me?” he asked.

eddie nodded.

“can you talk like me?” he asked again.

eddie really wished he could. he wanted nothing more than to say that he loved him. he wanted to ask his name.

“i’ll take that as a no.” he hummed, and it made eddie’s chest vibrate, “you have a lot of my things.”

eddie wanted to collect more of them.

he dropped the book on his loves lap and watched curiously as he opened it. eddie’s heart was about to leap out of his chest when the man found the page eddie wanted him to see.

his pretty pretty love drew his finger over the page and read out the words eddie had written there many years ago… the words eddie had longed to be able to read or remember, and now he’d know, “by the time you graduate, this will be real, and he will be nice and want you back.”

oh… right.

yes. eddie loved him. he knew now. didn’t he. his love knew and- oh, he was laughing.

eddie didn’t like that. why was he laughing? did he not love eddie too.

eddie screeched at him and pouted because… because why would he laugh? that’s mean. it hurts eddie. it hurts eddie a lot. he would just like to love his love.

oh eddie loved him so much.

he watched with sad eyes as his love realised how much it was hurting eddie, and then he said, “you technically still haven’t graduated, you know?”

oh goodie. his love wanted him too!

he loved him so much he just- oh, he just couldn’t hold back any more. he flicked his tongue out and licked up his loves cheek and it was so much better than licking the picture. this time, when his love laughed, eddie liked it.

this was a good laugh.

“licking? really?”

eddie smiled at him and nodded his head because, yes. of course! he had to show his love and that’s how he did that. that’s what he knew. he hoped his love would lick him back… but maybe that’s not how those creatures showed their love.

that’s okay. eddie would learn eventually.

eddie helped shuffle his love back to cuddle because he didn’t care how mad his master got right now, eddie had his love and he’d finally be able to sleep well. he was sure this would be the first sleep he got without crying since waking up down here, in this world.

he curled up with his teddy and wrapped his wings around his love, curling into his lap and chest. eddie pressed his ear up over his heart to listen to the steady drum beat of it inside. it was one of the best sounds in every world. eddie started to purr again, feeling warm and dizzy against his love. he smelt amazing, and eddie nuzzled his face under the vest to get closer to him.

eddie felt his love pet his head softly and hold him a little tighter. eddie didn’t think he could love something any more than he loved this being right here. he was going to keep him forever. protect him and make sure he was safe, and well fed, and warm. he’d stay here, in eddie’s home, where no one else was allowed to go so eddie could keep him for himself. if he wanted anything, eddie would fetch it for him.

eddie would love him with every fibre in his body and more.

he’d do anything for his love.

he was sure of it.

if only he could remember his name.

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