#maybe that'll be this year's holiday fic :p | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

kydrogendragon · 27 days

Note

I saw the writing ask, if you're doing it: 13 or 30

Took me forever to find the post again! My Tumblr did not want to show it to me, lol

13. Rate your worldbuilding skills from 1 to 10.

Hmm . . . I thought on this one for a bit. See, on one hand, there are some authors and writers out there that deserve a true 10 (or higher) that come to mind, like Tolkien with the expansive universe and such he had created. And those seem very "Heavy In Worldbuilding" type stories. But worldbuilding still comes into play for stories set in our normal world as we know it too, of course, not just fantasy settings 😅

So after pondering worldbuilding in general for probably far too long, I'm thinking I'll go to a solid 5. I feel like I'm decent at world building and considering different aspects of the world my stories take place in and how that might affect things, but I know I've a lot of room for improvement in that regard. There's been many cases where people would comment or theorize on different things and how it might affect the story that I hadn't ever even thought of! So, probably at my current skill level, pretty average, I think.

30. Describe a fic that almost happened, but then it didn't

Oh gods, so many. Of which, many are in WIP status because I'll feel bad if I day they're abandoned 🤣 But let's see, what's a good one that I don't think I'll get around to writing . . .

I really wanted to try writing a classic fake-dating, only one bed trope filled fic with Dreamling. Very Hallmark Movie-esque with Hob not wanting to deal with his family and grandparents and everyone asking when he's "going to bring someone home again" and "you deserve to have another chance at happiness" and "Elle would want you to try again" and "I don't want to see you all alone, it's not good for you." And Hob's just . . . Done with it all. He's not sure he can handle another holiday filled with those comments, so when his Ma calls, confirming when he's coming down for Christmas and asks if it's just him, he lies and says no. It's not. He's bringing his partner.

And then freaks out once he hangs up and realizes what he's done.

I had the thought of him meeting Dream on the way there. Both of them waiting at the train station to get out into the countryside. The trains running late. Snow's coming down pretty quickly. Dream's miserable and Hob overhears his argument over the phone with someone (Desire? Death? Night?) before growling out that "he would have a better holiday keeled over in a ditch on the side of the road than if he spent a single minute within any of your company." And aggressively (as aggressive as one can with a smartphone) hangs up. He starts gathering his items, looking ready to head back to London when Hob speaks before his brain can tell him it's a terrible plan.

He asks Dream—without even knowing the man's name—to come spend the holidays with him. Says there's gonna be good food, a cozy fireplace, a cute cat, and that no one should have to spend the season alone, even if their family sucks.

Dream, fresh off his most recent failure of a relationship with Thessaly, feeling more depressed than his usual baseline, and a tad more comfortable than he should with the idea that this man could very well be a serial killer, agrees. He shouldn't. Death's voice rings in his head, telling him this is how true crime podcasts start, this is how horror movies start. But he finds he can't even bring himself to care.

They talk a bit over the train ride, small things. Hob does most of the talking. Then Hob brings up the fact that he may have told his Ma he was bringing a date.

Dream bristles at that, they get into a quietly heated argument on the train but the fight soon leaves him. Perhaps this is the only way someone could "love" him: faked for their sake. Untrue. A lie. But it's better than nothing.

So to that, he also agrees. Hob's shocked through this whole thing and feeling guilty about basically conning this man into being his "boyfriend". But then, in classic rom-com fashion, they start to truly fall in love, though convinced the other isn't. There's probably a good portion of arguments and rubbing each other the wrong way, of course. And intentional embarrassment of each other too.

But it's when Christmas morning comes around and the whole family is having fun and laughing and watching each other open gifts that one of Hob's little cousins hands him a small, flat package with his name in fancy script. He blinks, confused as he sees the "From" field filled in with Dream's name.

"I thought we said we weren't giving each other anything?" Hob asks, brow quirked upward, wondering when the hell this man even had time to get him a gift. (Then a spark of fear, wondering what the hell is in this package. Especially after their fight the night before.)

Dream says nothing, of course, just silently watches with an intensity Hob's begun to grow fond of, hands curled around a warm mug of hot cocoa, still clad in the set of matching PJ'S Hob's mother had bought them both.

Hob peels back the shiny red wrapping paper to find a single sheet of thicker paper. On it, a wonderfully sketched and rendered image of Hob's very own face rests. He's smiling, wrapped up with the beanie and scarf combination he'd worn on their outing to the tree farm earlier. It takes his breath away.

"Turn it over," Dream commands quietly, the sound of joyous laughter and activity nearly drowns his deep voice out.

On the back is that same, neat script. There's a letter addressed to him. His eyes barely get through the first sentence before he tears up.

"I have grown far fonder of you this past week than would be advisable, but as I have found throughout my life, the heart rarely cares for such matters of the mind. You aggravate me, Hob Gadling. You, with your overly cheerful morning greetings and terrible singing. You, with your propensity for listening to the same three Christmas songs on repeat and a ludacris appetite for sweets. You, who would visit the Queen of England in nothing more than coderoy trousers and a secondhand sweater vest. There are countless reasons I should only feel disdain for you. Had we met in any other fashion, I doubt we would have ever wished to speak with one another again.

And yet . . . And yet, I find myself smiling when I hear your voice above the falling water in the bathroom. And yet I find myself humming along to the words to Deck the Halls, a song I had never known the lyrics to before this year. And yet I find myself enjoying the warmth and comfort one finds wrapped in your arms, pressed against those very sweater vests.

You confuse me, Hob Gadling. You are the antithesis of everything I have ever sought in others, but perhaps that is why I now find myself falling for you. You who understand me at a level I find terrifying. You who is unafraid to push me when I need pushing, to guard me when the world is more than I can handle.

I believe I am falling in love with you, Hob. And that terrifies me. But, perhaps, you have started to feel the same?"

Hob, of course, all but falls into Dream's lap and kisses the man, earning a whooping holler from his brother. Be he doesn't care. Because he has Dream, something he thought impossible.

Writing Ask Game

#ky asks #writing game #dreamling #fics that might not ever happen but maybe!#maybe that'll be this year's holiday fic :p

4 notes · View notes