#but honestly. love that Hob is just a Guy

[landwriter]

I just. Need to get this out of my head. We all see Hob as a university level teacher but what if he wasn't? What if he was an elementary, or even kindergarten/preschool, teacher. He didn't exactly plan to become an Offical Wrangler of 20 Human equivalent of cats, but it lets him showcase his random knowledge and get even more excited about seeing the future.

Get it outta your head, put it into mine, yes, this is the meta I welcome and adore!!! I think my views on Hob tend to run a little bit sharper and darker than the average fandom take. I've never seen him as someone whose chief trait is hope, yanno? It's hunger for me! Never thought, oh yeah, that is a labrador retriever in human form. I have never associated him with a little classroom that has posters about weather and seasons and a map of the world.

And YET. After getting this ask and thinking about it. I am fucking sold and now I will sell you all too. He would be a brilliant teacher of younger kids. Because I don't think you need to be sunny or kind or friendly to be a good teacher of small children. It’s nice. But I do believe you have to be curious. And sensitive. And patient. And those are some of the traits that characterize Hob to me.

He knows more of the variations of life than can be earned in a mortal lifetime alone. He knows loneliness. He knows losing family. He knows poverty. He knows about moving and leaving what feels like your whole life behind you, when you never wanted to go. He would inherently understand why it's better to talk about 'grownups at home' than 'parents', and why you shouldn't make kids share with the class what they did on their summer vacation. 

He is always curious - not just of the world in a way that allows him to passionately transmit that knowledge to his classes like you say OP - but also of his kids. About their dreams and hopes and fears. About how childhood has changed so much. He loves the small stuff. He wants to hear it all. A class of 20 enthusiastic kids might be like herding cats, but it’s also 20 entire lives, mornings and nights and houses and siblings and pets and chaos and weird kid observations and beliefs, and it sates Hob’s bottomless hunger for the human experience far more than a lecture hall filled with a bunch of young adults who are only there three hours a week, whose extent of conversation with him is usually limited to emails asking for paper extensions that he grants each and every time.

He also has this insane sensitivity that you see even in 1389 in the way he pulls back earnestness with humour to match the mood of the room. He is always watching, always feeling, always adjusting. Think of all the little expressions of expectation and irritation and hurt and hope when talking with Dream! I have no doubt he’d ensure each of his students felt seen and understood, even if it's hard at first. Even if it takes a long time to get there. It’s taken him a long time, after all. He is this exquisitely tuned instrument to talk carefully to kids, and to give them back tenfold the sort of validation that a part of him always howled for in those early meetings.

He's good at being earnest. He's good at big feelings. He's good at being funny. He's good at noticing. He's good at these things, in large part, because he's not normal at all.

He’s also as stubborn as a child, but as frighteningly patient as, well, an immortal. It’s probably uncanny to his colleagues. They tell Hob he’s got the patience of a saint, and he thinks, privately, More like the faith of a martyr. But he does. He’s got both.

I think he doesn't get it all right at first. But I think within ten years he’s got so many teaching awards he needs to put up a special shelf for them. Below it, though, are several shelves, already full to bursting, with letters and thank-yous and birthday cards and ‘look at me now’ life updates from former students. Because that is the kind of teacher Hob wants to be.

[xx-vergil-xx]

Hello, I am very hyperfixated on your beautiful amazing wonderful fanfiction Hounds and have decided to bind it into the beautiful hardcover book it deserves (I have a hobby of handbinding my own books). Hope that's OK with you!

(@ -ing ppl bc broken notifs so @lesbianage-agent ) ahdshdhhhHHH of course!!!! of course that is so more than okay!!!! that is so cool and such an honor and just!!!! ahh!!!!!!! thank you so so so much!!!!! please send me pictures when ur done I would so love to see it!!!

[gabessquishytum]

Hob is having a good day, so he decides to walk home.

In the morning, on his way to work, his bus passed a really done up church --- flowers bursting out, a red carpet was being laid down as his bus went by --- all and all it looked like a very fancy wedding was to take place. In his head, Hob wished them well, and moved on.

On his walk home, he was going by the church again, still flowery, but now there was a forlorn man sitting on the steps alone. Hob thought about walking by, but the guy looked so sad in his fancy tux?!?

Dream was (of course) left at the alter -- who could love him. So Dream sits, surrounded by the spectacular failure of another relationship, all cried out, on the steps of this church. He just wants someone who wants to be his as much as he wants them to be his.

It must have been hours later when a hand with a water bottle is thrust in his face as a handsome man (back lit by the setting sun) asks Dream if he's okay. Dream would ordinarily say he's fine, but the friendly concern in beautiful doe eyes makes him answer honestly that no he is not okay.

Oh, poor Dream. The tears immediately spill over and cascade down his cheeks. Hob plops down on the step next to him, gives him a friendly pat on the back. He offers a handful of (slightly crumpled) tissues and starts telling Dream about his own recent relationship disaster. Sure, he wasn't left at the altar, but the guy did say that Hob was "intense" and "overwhelming" and also "not even that good looking" which was pretty much a bummer all around. Dream manages a snuffling kind of laugh and shakes his head. He's heard all of those things before (except that no one's ever actually told him that he's not attractive, to be fair). All he can manage now is to rest his head on Hob’s shoulder.

After a bit Hob is like "wait, was there a wedding cake??" And Dream explains that it's back at his house where the reception was supposed to be. And so Hob grabs him by the hand, drags him home (Dream’s house is hella nice and fancy), tucks him under a soft blanket on the sofa and cuts him a MASSIVE slice of wedding cake. Royal icing and fruit cake may not fix everything, but it's got to be better than nothing.

Sitting on the sofa with a stranger and eating unholy amounts of cake was NOT how Dream expected or wanted his day to go. But somewhere along the line he finds himself smiling. Hob is kinder to him than anyone has been for a long time, even his future spouse.

Several years later they'll have their own wedding cake. And when they go to bed on their wedding night, they'll take a big slice of cake with them. To keep their energy levels up, and to honour the day they began to fall in love.

[teejaystumbles]

I can honestly never get enough of any kind of fic that has Dream head over heels in love with Hob, appreciating him in all and everything, just being comepletely obsessed and smitten (secretely of course) - while everyone else is like "uuh, he's just a guy? not even that handsome" and Dream goes berserk

give me wildly protective Dream, feral Dream barely controlling himself to not fall on Hob, give me pining Dream annyoing everyone with showers of flowers and heatwaves, I can never get enough of that and love every fic I ever read that has it

[chipsinsalsa]

Bakers Boy

Peeta x FemReader

Plot: What happens when you decide to go into the Bakery shop of the boy you have a crush on?

A/N: I’m sorry if a lot of it is in accurate or if the fanfic is not that good and has typos. First time on tumblr! And I also haven’t written anything in a while but if you guys like it my requests are open! 🤘

contains: smut, praise (reader receiving),fem reader!,character aged up

Truth be told you never even dared to go near the bakery of District 12.

You had always heard stories from the kids at school about the mean old hag that worked there, the baker's wife. And that alone made you avoid it at all costs. But something tempted you to get closer for in that same Bakery, worked the boy you had a crush on. You didn't know his name but something about him made you want to know more.

One day when you had just returned from selling a few of your cheese at the Hob. You walked past the bakery shop as usual and couldn't help but take in the smell of the sweet bread and its irresistible warmth drawing you in. You decided to glance into the window and there the golden locks of the young boy at work captured your eye.

So you decided to go in.

You opened the door to the sound of a bell ringing. Immediately the boy put the doe he was kneading down and turned to face you. He dusted himself off on his apron and headed up to the counter

“Hello Ms what can I get for you today” He spoke. His powdery hands caught your attention, and you couldn't help but imagine how soft they were. How warm they would feel after having been near the oven all day. He noticed you were distracted and waved his hand near your face. “Ms?”

“um- I apologize I must have spaced out, could I just get a loaf of bread” You spoke embarrassed.

The boy smiled kindly and nodded, "Of course, we have a few different types of bread. Would you like a plain white loaf or something with a bit more flavor like our honey wheat or sourdough?"

You considered the options for a moment before deciding. "I think something sweet so the Honey Wheat sounds lovely, what do I owe you?”

The boy quickly wrapped up the bread and handed it to you. "It's on the house"

"Are you sure? I can pay for it." He smiled, "Absolutely. I like to treat our first-time customers to a free loaf of bread. Consider it a welcome gift."

“Oh..thank you” You looked at the nametag on his apron “Peeta”

“Of course, what's your name?” He asked curiously.

“y/n” It took a moment but a confused look crossed your face when you realized what he said. “Wait..how do you know I haven't been here before? ” He circled the counter walking over to you. You began to take some steps back trying to keep your distance but eventually hitting the wall.

“Well, the truth is” He began to speak. “I've seen you before”

You furrowed your brow in confusion. "You've seen me before? Where?"

Peeta smiled, "Every day after school you walk home past the Bakery. I've never seen you come in before though. Your always so tense.”

You were surprised and a bit embarrassed that someone had been paying attention to you, "Is it that obvious?"

He shrugged, "I wouldn't say it's obvious, but I do notice things. I like to think I have a good sense of people. And I can tell that you're not a big fan of my mother. But don't worry, she's not here right now. You're safe."

You laughed nervously, "I didn't mean to offend you”

Peeta waved his hand, "It's alright. My mother can be a bit intimidating sometimes, she seems to take her job very seriously." He paused for a moment before continuing, "If you don't mind me asking, what made you decide to come in today?"

“You” was the first thing you wanted to say but then thought about it for a split second. You looked down at the loaf of bread in your hands, "Honestly, it was the smell of your bread. It was too good to resist." you lied.

The boy grinned, "Ah, yes. The smell of fresh bread can be quite tempting cant it”

He began to walk even closer as you nodded nervously in response. “However” He began to speak “I believe my bread may not have been the only reason you came in today,” He said as his eyes began to scan you. Your heart racing. You knew you couldn't stay another second near him. “I think… I should head home now”

As you turned to leave, Peeta reached out and gently grabbed your arm. "Wait," he said softly, "It's just” He took a breath “I like you...I know that sounds weird but I've seen you stare at me from the window before and hoped one day you would come in. And now that you have I dont want to let you go so easily.”

You were immobile. Before you could even think his lips slowly pressed against yours. The heat of his body now becoming more apparent. You felt his hands rise to grab your hair running his fingers through it pulling you in more. His lips tasted like sweet honey, soft like his touch. You couldn't move.

He finally pulled back the both of you gasping for air.

He glanced at you while panting and feeling his chest rise. “I'm sorry, but I just had to kiss you. At least once.”

You kissed him in return.

Immediately he understood grabbing the loaf from your hands and setting it to the side. Breaking the kiss for a moment only to grab the sign on the door that read “OPEN” and turning it over. “I know I've only ever seen you through the window but you dont understand how badly I dreamt about this” He spoke as he picked you up quickly placing you on the counter.

You felt his hands explore your body, running up and down your back and sliding over your hips.

You let out a small moan, and he pulled back to look at you, a smirk on his face. "Such a sweet girl" he spoke his voice low. You felt a flush rising to your cheeks.

He leaned in to kiss you again, and this time his hands moved lower, grazing over your thighs. You felt a shiver run through you, and you knew that you wanted more. Without thinking, you reached up and wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer.

The boy responded eagerly, pressing his body against yours and deepening the kiss. You could feel his hardening bulge pressing against your thigh, and you moaned softly, feeling a surge of desire wash over you.

“I think I might have something a little sweeter for you in the back,” He said smirking as he picked you up again taking you to the back of the bakery.

He carried you to a pile of flour sacks stacked on the floor laying you down. “I know this isn't the most ideal place but know at any moment you can say no” He spoke almost expecting you to say so. His hand brushing your hair to the side.

“Never,” You said as you grabbed his neck pulling him on top of you. He smirked as he began to kiss you again. His kiss trailed to your cheek down to your neck. You felt his teeth sink into you as you let out another moan. “Fuck.. you're so fucking good” He whimpered while still trailing his kisses. You felt his hips bucking into your thigh. You could sense his desperation and how hard he was trying to take things slow.

He finally reached your chest. He looked up at you his eyes like a puppy waiting for his treat. “May I pretty girl.”

You nodded as he began to take your shirt off. You helped by untying your bra. The warm air of the Bakery oven hit your chest immediately once it was off but not as warm as the eager boy's tongue now pressing on your tender breast. His tongue lightly sucking while it brushed against your nipple. His moans sending vibrations through your body. His other hand running through your back bringing you closer to him. He took his mouth off your breast leaving kisses as he made his way down your stomach. “If I knew you tasted this good I would have kissed you as soon as you came in.” He whispered smirking between a kiss.

Before you even noticed he pulled your pants off, grabbed your thighs, and threw your legs over his broad shoulders. He lightly squeezed your thighs before placing his fingers on your covered clit. Making you shudder right away. “So wet already Princess?”

You couldn't take it anymore. “Peeta please-” You whimpered desperately needing him inside you.

“I guess I'm not the only desperate one,” He smirked as he undid his apron tossing it to the side. And for the first time, you noticed just how built he was. His arms barely fit his white shirt. He unbuckled his pants and slid them off along with his underwear. He groaned as his cock was exposed. You gulped at the sight just thinking about it being inside you. “I promise to take it slow,” He said as he cupped your face making sure you felt safe. He took one more look at you.

“Beautiful,” He whispered.

His eyes traced every inch of you as if making sure to engrave it in his memory. He placed his fingers on your panties again slowly pushing them to the side. He began to slide into you. You tried your best to hold back your moans placing your palm over your mouth to suppress them. He noticed and immediately took it away. “No I want to hear you” he spoke “I want to hear just how good I make you feel” His command alone made you let out the moan you so desperately held back.

You grabbed his hair pulling him deeper into you making him whine. “Faster-” Was all you could let out before he increased his speed sending you over the edge. His whimpers now sounded like pleads as he called your name. His cock warming you up from the inside as he thrusted. His rhythm reminding you of the number of times you could have been absolutely fucked by him if only you had just taken more than a peak when walking past the shop.

“Your so fucking tight princess “ He moaned out “You dont know how much I wanted this” His thrusts now going as fast as they could. You whined as you felt your body getting closer. “Peeta I think I'm going to -”

He placed his lips onto yours kissing you roughly as he whimpered into your mouth suppressing your moans. You couldn't hold back anymore. You felt your body contract as you came.

His dick still sliding in and out of you. But with a final buck of his hips, you felt as he came inside you. The both of you breaking the kiss as you panted letting out the last moans. He pulled out laying next to you.

He ran his fingers through your cheek, kissing your forehead.

“I knew you tasted just as sweet as you looked”

[five-and-dimes]

Run Away (But We're Running in Circles), please!

Ah, this is one I've talked about before but it finally has a title! This is the fic about Dream not believing he's loved on purpose (he thinks Hob and Death just "love everyone", not actually him specifically). This is also the one I'm working on now and am planning on finishing next! (Goal is to finish it before Valentine's Day 🤞)

Have a snippet of Hob recruiting more to his cause:

Sniffling, Hob glanced up at the raven, watching as he shifted on his feet anxiously. Hob blinked in realization as he spoke, “You really care about him, huh?” “I mean, yeah, obviously,” Matthew shrugged as much as he was able, “Honestly it’s kind of hard not to. I mean have you seen the guy? Like, he’s supposed to be this all-powerful force of the universe, but he feels more like a kitten you find hiding from the rain under your car, y’know?” Hob barked out a laugh, “I don’t think he’d appreciate that comparison, but you’re absolutely not wrong.” “It’s not like he didn’t care about me first!” Matthew states, almost defensively. He flutters over, settling on the couch cushion next to Hob and he gets the impression that they should be sharing a couple beers right now, gossiping about their mutual friend, “He tries soooo hard to be all cold and aloof, but he knew me for five seconds and tried to keep me from doing my literal job ‘cause he was worried I’d get hurt.” “Yeah, that sounds like him,” Hob smirked, shaking his head fondly. “I can’t believe I had to die to finally get a good boss,” Matthew huffed, “Honestly that’s the craziest part of my afterlife. Turned into a raven? I can shrug that off. I enjoy my job and love my boss? THAT’S the part I have trouble believing.”  Snapping his head over, Hob blinks for a long moment. Matthew’s feathers fluff up at his staring, “What? What did I do?” Slowly, a grin spreads across Hob’s face, leaning forward gleefully. “Want to help me with something?”

[merinsedai]

Dreamling Abbey

My fic for the @the-centennial-husbands-bigbang !!

No lie, guys: I decided to do this after coming out of a heart scan at the hospital on the sign up deadline. The thinking being: I could have a dicky ticker here, why not try something new? And this was perfect because if there's one thing I know about myself, it's that I need a deadline.

And so here we are.

I am MOST affronted by how hard this was?! And how bloody long it took me (mostly because I spent a lot of time staring into space or relentlessly googling 'did they have xyz in Edwardian England) All you wonderful, talented writers have made it look so easy that all that effort came as somewhat of a shock. Honestly, I am deeply saddened that the copious amount of Dreamling fic I have voraciously consumed in the past 18 months has not magically made a fantastic author out of me. Why does osmosis not work for writing?

If you read, I hope you enjoy!

(The ticker's fine, by the way. Not dicky at all.)

Art by the fabulous @lalaithquetzallicaresi Thanks for squeezing me in there, lovely! ❤

Pairing: Dream/Hob

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 50k

Warnings: Rape/Non-Con elements

Tags: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Downton Abbey Fusion, look it's Downton Abbey but Dreamling omegaverse. Sorta. If you squint, I'm not sure Julian Fellowes would approve, If you haven't seen Downton it definitely won't matter, because I've unashamedly just stolen bits and pieces and thrown the rest to the wind, Attempted Sexual Assault, Rape/Non-con Elements, Non-Consensual Kissing, Pining, period typical attitudes to gender. If you reframe gender to include alpha beta omega dynamics, omega rights paralleling the suffragette movement in England, Minor Violence, lots of vague references to classic cars, mention of unethical medical procedures, Time and Night are bad parents, Omega Dream of the Endless, Alpha Hob Gadling, Hob Gadling Loves Dream of the Endless | Morpheus, Dream of the Endless│Morpheus Needs a Hug, Unbeta'd

Read chapter 1 on ao3

Fic Summary: Lord Morpheus is the eldest child of the Earl and Countess of Endless, an ancient family hiding huge debts behind a fine name. As an omega, Morpheus cannot inherit his father's title or the family's ancestral home. His function is simple: secure a match that is both socially advantageous and financially viable, thus securing the future of the estate and the title of Earl of Endless for his offspring. The family believe that their troubles are solved when Morpheus dutifully (if reluctantly) becomes engaged to his wealthy cousin, Patrick. However, all their carefully laid plans are thrown into chaos when Patrick drowns on the ill-fated Titianic.

Now Morpheus is navigating treacherous waters of his own and discovering how tight the ties of family loyalty bind him. Will the charming and handsome Duke of Crowborough prove his saviour? Or will the wealthy yet odious Sir Roderick Burgess ensnare Morpheus in plans of his own?

Meanwhile, the family’s new chauffeur, one Robert Gadling, is muddying the waters of Morpheus’s existence even further- where is the line between a servant and a friend? Can Hob help Morpheus see that life exists beyond the confines of family and function?

Chapters below the cuts and in subsequent reblogs, should you wish to read it here on tumblr.

Chapter 1: Complications with the Great Matter.

April 1912.

The papers had been late this morning. Not that Morpheus notices their tardiness. Serious daily newspapers are the preserve of his father and since Morpheus has little interest in the society gossip that proliferated on the pages of The Daily Sketch, the only periodical he is allowed in his room, he rarely bothers to glance at it. However, the large photograph blazing across the front page is so arresting that he finds his eyes drawn to it immediately, ignoring all else on his vanity to take the paper and read.  It is bad news of course, the papers rarely print anything but.  ‘DISASTER TO TITANIC ON HER MAIDEN VOYAGE’ boldly proclaims the headline, beneath which is black and white image of the doomed liner, adjoined by one of her seemingly also doomed captain, John Smith. Morpheus’s eyebrows draw down as he reads the brief article: so many presumed dead, so few saved.  They would know people, of course. His mother knew the Astors, and they had dined with Lady Rothes only last month. Still, the privilege of first class likely meant they would be amongst the survivors. Those below decks… on their way to a better life, well they would not have been so fortunate. What a tragedy, Morpheus sighs and closes the paper. This news rather put his own woes into perspective-

The door bangs open and Desire flounces in without so much as a by your leave, as is their way. 

“Dream!” they shout without preamble, then glance at the newspaper in his hands with a slight moue of disappointment. Being the bearer of bad news is something Desire takes a measure of delight in, “Oh, you’ve seen already, Huh,” They shake their head, before bending over Morpheus to look more closely at his paper, hand gripping his shoulder. This close, the smell of the perfume Desire favours- a rich and spicy aroma deliberately chosen to overwhelm their natural omega scent- makes him wrinkle his nose and move his head away. Desire’s fingers tighten on his shoulder and they huff in amusement. They are not strictly allowed to wear perfumes but Desire goes their own way with everything.  “When Jessamy told me, I thought she must have dreamt it!” Desire continues in a low tone, meeting Morpheus’s eyes in the mirror.  “To think, we were just talking about that ship the other week. Remember how excited old Lucy Rothes was? Supposed to be unsinkable- ha!”

“Every mountain is unclimbable until they climb, so every ship is unsinkable until it sinks,” Morpheus responds neutrally, putting the paper down and shrugging Desire’s hand off to stand. Desire moves with him, smoothing their hands over the non-existent wrinkles on the shoulder of his jacket before adjusting his already meticulously placed tie pin. Morpheus endures the attention for a moment before once again moving away. He does not enjoy this close scrutiny and Desire knows it, but it is always a delight of theirs to make him feel uncomfortable.

“Hm” Desire hums then shrugs, “Come on, now you’re all sorted, lets go to breakfast. Aponoia said she saw the telegram boy come by. I want to find out if there’s any more news. Won’t it be something if someone truly important drowned? Gossip for weeks.”

***

The papers always print bad news. Of course they do. But that news is viewed through a detached lens. Shocking, of course, but not too close to home. Telegrams though- that’s different. They take that news and make it personal. 

Breakfast had proven to be a fraught affair. Their father had been away from the room when they first arrived, speaking with their mother so they were to learn, but he had soon been back and imparted the news of their family’s misfortune to his children with unusual brevity. Then he had left without saying anything further, leaving the three of them to process the news alone: the news that Patrick Endless, their wealthy cousin and Morpheus’s fiance, had been aboard the Titanic with his father, James and neither were listed among the names of the survivors. Morpheus had not felt like eating further and had removed himself back to his rooms with his siblings following uninvited (though not strictly unwanted). He had wanted to think but he also knew the danger of getting lost so deeply in his mind, so Desire’s sniping and Aponoia’s quiet presence would be… grounding. 

The stupid thing was that Patrick was not even meant to be on that cursed ship; he and his father weren’t expected in New York until May. Why? He thought Why did they go? And without saying anything? Perhaps Patrick had planned to telegram from New York- a boast and a surprise. 

“Turns out that the lure of the Titanic’s maiden voyage was too strong.” Desire says as if reading his mind, and with a hint of mischief in their golden eyes. They lounge dramatically against the doorframe whilst Morpheus stands and stares out of his window, gazing at the grounds below. It all looks so quiet, so normal. Why doesn’t he feel sad?  Desire continues, “They wanted to be part of history and now they are history.”

“Desire,” Morpheus chides half heartedly. It is a crass statement but he can’t find it in himself to react more strongly. Maybe they are looking for a reaction from him, or maybe this is now how his sibling processes strong emotions. It certainly seems in character. Aponoia has not yet spoken. She just sits unmoving, staring vacantly ahead, toying with the ring on her finger, turning it over and over. He himself feels oddly disconnected from the news. How is one meant to react upon learning that their intended had been so suddenly and shockingly killed- drowned in the icy waters of the North Atlantic, their frozen corpse not even recovered, just left to sink and rot in the sea. Dream blinks slowly, probably not like this, he thinks vaguely. He feels there should be some weeping and wailing involved at the very least. 

But there is only numbness.

***

“Uh, I detest black,” Desire flounces into the room the next morning whilst Morpheus is busy writing in his journal. He enjoys writing, it helps to order his often scattered and rebellious thoughts. 

Jessamy, the maid he shares with his siblings, has just finished fixing his hair and is busily setting his bed to rights, plumping the pillows and smoothing the coverlets.  Desire regards themself critically in Morpheus’ tall mirror, turning this way and that. Aponoia trails after them silently. She is also dressed in black and it makes her look even more wan and washed out than usual. As for Desire, their outfit may have been the requisite black, but it still looked to Morpheus to be sufficiently rakish as to raise their parents’ blood pressure. Hardly proper mourning material. “At least going into mourning won’t ruin your aesthetic, Dream dear,” Desire stretches languidly and collapses back on the just-made bed, smiling thinly. “Always a silver lining somewhere.”

“Full mourning still seems a lot for a cousin,” Morpheus replies vaguely. He tries to pay little attention to his siblings, bent over his journal and writing quickly. The habit of diary writing was born of necessity: a strategy to help quiet his mind, he’d been told, but now it is a pleasure. 

“But not for a fiance,” Aponoia’s voice is quiet. There is no accusation in her tone, only the retelling of fact.

Morpheus huffs slightly. “He was not really a fiance.”

“No? I thought that was what you call a man you’re going to marry?”

“I was only going to marry him if nothing better turned up,” he turns the page and continues writing.

“Morpheus! What a dreadful thing to say!” Desire looks simply delighted. “Poor dear Patrick was absolutely besotted with you. It was quite pathetic to witness really- your indifference and his lovelorn obsessiveness,” they shudder theatrically. “Perhaps it’s a good thing he drowned; saved him from a miserable life with you as husband.”

“You dare suggest I would have been a poor husband to him?” Morpheus demands, slamming his diary closed and rounding on his sibling. Desire shrugs insouciantly, fiddling with a diamond earring.

‘“Well you didn’t love him. Barely liked him. And he wasn’t the cleverest where you were concerned, but he would have seen it sooner or later, and hated you for it. Of course, I could wish an unhappy marriage upon you, dearest brother. But Patrick? He deserved better.”

‘Better?’ Morpheus raises his eyebrows. Desire’s words were often full of spite towards him but this was such a quick switch around from mocking Patrick to defending him. Was there something here he had never seen? Never bothered to look for, in truth. “You would have considered yourself a better prospect, my sibling? Taken what I would have discarded?” He raises his eyebrows in challenge and they glare at each other for a moment, then Desire drops their gaze.

‘Yes,’ they say softly, vulnerability etching their features momentarily. “Would that I were eldest and not… as I am. Then I would have taken him like a shot.”

They stand, shields quickly  going back up. “Well,” they sniff pointedly, looking away from Morpheus and towards the door,  “It’s not so bad I suppose. Mama says we can go into half mourning next month, then full colour by September. A shame we have to spend the summer so drab- and miss the season down in London!- but at least we’ll be ready for shooting parties in the autumn.  Come on Appy, let’s leave his lordship alone. He clearly craves solitude. To think,” they sneer, “and write in his stupid diary.” They flow out the room without a backwards glance, Aponoia dutifully trailing in their wake.

Morpheus sighs and turns back to his journal, opening it and staring at the blank page but not picking his pen back up. Desire and Patrick… not that he thought Patrick had returned any sort of affection to his younger sibling but still, had he really been so blind?

“I was so terribly sorry to hear the news, my lord,” Jessamy offers quietly into the silence of the room as she finishes adjusting his bed again. “You say these things but I know you are sad. Whatever you say.” “You are a dear,” Morpheus murmurs. “But I do not feel as badly as I should. I do not really know… what I feel.”  That is probably a bad reflection upon me, he thinks. The truth was that beyond the normal amount of grief that came with the sudden and untimely passing of an acquaintance, Dream felt nothing.  Patrick had hardly been a grand passion. They had known each other since childhood but had been thrown together through circumstance rather than any actual attraction and they had barely anything in common.  So no, he was not as sad as he should be and that was what was really making him sad.  This marriage would have been a thing of duty. Their family was old, old enough indeed to have had plenty of time to rack up considerable debts. A lack of money hidden behind a fine name. Morpheus’ marriage to Patrick would have secured the estate’s future, shored up its ailing finances and kept the title very much in the family. As an omega, Morpheus would never have been able to inherit his father’s title but his children could, if they were alphas. And now, there was no marriage, no money and a very uncertain future ahead of them. Morpheus’s one duty, his one function in society, was to secure a good match and that duty lay so heavily upon his shoulders. If only Olly had stayed- but no, there was no use in dealing in ‘if onlies’. Practicalities only, and practicalities meant marriage. And soon.

[m0nsterqzzz]

You're You

pairing: katniss everdeen x reader

summary: you get katniss flowers and she learns you don't have to have a reason to give someone a gift

warnings: nothing. pure tooth rotting fluff. actually, the tiniest bit of angst because katnisd everdeen is a walking angst oneshot but it's very very tiny i pinky promise

a/n: i loved writing this one and it just came so easily like i think you just got me out of a writing slump so thank you for requesting this @drima <3

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

Humming a small tune quietly as you walk through the forest, you swing the woven basket in your hand back and forth. Your girlfriend has a hand on your lower back, gently leading you through the forest and to your garden. You know the land well after months of spending days out there while she’s hunting, but it still makes her feel better to walk you to the small clearing of land where you grow flowers, herbs, and vegetables before leaving to do her own thing. 

“You yell if you need me. If the mockingjays can hear it, I can hear it.” She says as she spins you around to give you a tight hug. You guys stand there, hugging for a few seconds before she gives you a kiss on the forehead and sets off deeper into the woods where the animals like to stay.

She readies her bow by her side with an arrow lined up with it as she walks away, leaving you in the small clearing to do whatever you want. It's about the size of half a football field with trees surrounding it, as if protecting you from the harm of the districts and the capitol while you're there.

Your girlfriend made this garden for you after learning about the flowers your father used to grow, which the capitol instructed peacekeepers to destroy because they can’t deal with any form of joy. His garden was one of your favorite memories, so you basically cried when Katniss nervously showed you the garden. She had gotten some flower seeds from people in the Hob, then you added vegetable and herb seeds to sell and eat. It became your safe haven other than the home you and Katniss share, something only you, her, and her sister Prim know about.

Speaking of Primrose, you place some of the recently growing herbs in your basket so that she can use them in her medicine. She recently took over her mothers job as a nurse in the hospital, but the people who can’t afford the hospital- which is most of the townspeople- just come to your home for healing. You don’t mind, as having someone who’s at risk of dying asleep on your kitchen table is much better than letting them die.

Then you grab some vegetables to sell at the Hob. A few people buy them. One of your favorites is Mrs. Lenton, who buys the veggies to put in the soup she makes for the starving people in town. You always offer to give them for free, but she forces money into your hand every time.

You place the basket down on the dirt as you start planting some new seeds Katniss got you for tomatoes, and that's how you spend the next hour. Digging small holes, placing a couple seeds in it and then covering the holes with dirt and putting some water on them. By the end of the pack of seeds, you have a whole row of planted seeds, and you can finally sit back and admire the plants.

Pulling out the wrapped apple slices your girlfriend gave you this morning, you munch on those as you stare at the garden with admiration. Katniss is the best girlfriend you could ever ask for, and sometimes it feels like you don’t do enough to thank her for that. She always reassures you that you do, but still.

Your gaze moves to the flower section of the garden, which honestly doesn’t stay just there. After these ones were planted, more started growing all around the clearing, leaving very little spots when there aren’t the colorful plants. An idea comes into your head as you look at the plants, and you hurriedly stand up from your seat on the ground to inspect some flowers.

Besides Primrose flowers, blue daisies are your girlfriend's favorite. She would never admit that to anyone besides you and Prim, but it’s true. You grin, gently picking some white Primrose and blue daisies out of the ground to add them to your basket. You don’t grow roses in your garden, knowing Katniss associates them with President Snow. You already live a life controlled by the Capitol, why would you want to bring that into your home?

Your idea is to make Katniss a bouquet. Not a huge one like the ones in the capitol, but a few flowers added together and prettily wrapped up. Your girlfriend isn’t one for “cute” but she is one for romantic gestures. And what's one of the most original romantic gestures? Giving your lover flowers. 

Picking up the woven basket, you make your way out of the clearing and back to the fence that borders your district. Katniss taught you not to sell the plants at the regular markets, as they ask way too many questions about where you got the plants. Just like it’s illegal for your girlfriend to go hunting, it’s illegal for you to have a garden anywhere other than in your district. Doesn’t stop you guys from doing it though.

The people in the Hob don’t ask where you got the stuff, just like always, instead just gratefully accepting items in trade for money or treats for your girlfriend and Primrose.

So that’s how you ended up at home, you and Prim standing at the kitchen counter. You're good with plants, but the young girl is good at making things look pretty. She arranges them in a way that makes them look almost market bought, then you guys wrap a piece of thin brown paper around them to hold it all together and tie it off with a white ribbon bow.

You hide the flowers behind your back when the front door opens, followed by the sound of your girlfriend taking off her boots and coat. “Hey girls?! I’m home!” She calls out, walking through the house until she finds you guys in the kitchen. “Oh hey. There you are.” She pecks you on the lips before giving her sister a quick side hug and opening the fridge. 

"Hey Kat." You say, your tone going a little bit higher as you get more excited. "I got you something." She spins around to face you, a confused smile taking over her face as she nods. "Okay.....what is it?" Prim nudges your shoulder, and you pull out the flowers to show your girlfriend who stares blankly at them for a few seconds before saying, “They’re beautiful.” She stares at you before she clears her throat and rubs the back of her neck. “What are they for? What did I do?”

Both you and Prim stare at her for a few seconds before you shake your head and hold them closer to your girlfriend. “Do I need a reason to bring you flowers?” She hesitantly grabs them from your hand, as if afraid you’ll snatch them back and tell her you were kidding. “Well….I guess not.”

“You….you’re you. That’s reason enough.” You tell her, watching as all the unsureness leaves her and is replaced by pure happiness and a light blush coats her face. Not many people can say they made Katniss Everdeen blush. Let's see Gale do that.

She sets the flowers down on the counter to pull you into a gentle but protective hug, and Prim huffs as she walks out of the room. 

Her hand gently cradles your head against her, and you guys stand there for what feels like forever, just enjoying each other's embrace before she whispers, “No ones ever gotten me flowers.”

You stay silent for a second, processing her words until you whisper back, voice quiet yet filled with determination, “I'll get you a million flowers Katniss. As many as I need to get you to see your smile permanently plastered on your face. And not the fake ones from the capitol or the ones you give to the people in town. A real one. One like the one you give me and Prim. The one that reaches your eyes and makes the corners slightly crinkle and you can't help but laugh because of how happy you are.” You can feel the way her smile grows against your shoulder where she's laid her head, and it makes you feel good to know you're the reason she's smiling like that.

“I want that to. I want to make you happy. Always.” “Well then you're on the right track Everdeen.” You playfully say, grabbing the bag of meat she brought inside to start dinner.

While you're starting to focus on the food, she reaches into the back pocket of her jeans, hand gently squeezing the ring box inside of it. 

[magnusbae]

In a fandom of worsening Dream derision, I gotta say I really love your strong strong participation in the Dream defense squad 🫡 Let's fight for our boy to have only the best.

I just halted a hyperfixation upon reading the words WORSENING DREAM DERISION— HOW DARE. HOW. After everything he's been through? He's the most compassionate, sweet, darling thing in this show, more so than Hob "fandom saint" Gadling. I love Hob to bits however if it was Hob lying on the floor, life choked out of him— our guy's first concern would NOT have been the 'dreamers being "hurt"', not even killed or anything, just hurt. But you know who did think first thing about his dreamers? That's right. Dream.

And Lucienne "fandom better than thou mom" who upon learning of Rose immediately was like 'kill the b' but you know who didn't, you know who didn't? Dream. That's right. Dream who was curious, sweet, interested. I JUST— HOW DARE THEY RIDICULE OUR SWEET BOY WHO HONESTLY just does his very fucking best in every turn of this show, only to be hit over the head eVERY SINGLE TIME.

Dream is the ultimate character, he is so full of EVERYTHING, he is so lovely, he is so good. He is a character who despite everything he had seen, had experienced, had suffered— who by all means should have went mad long ago— still tries, still goes on!

It's easy to look at Death and say ANGEL (and tbh yes but also) her work is brief, she meets and walks them, but it's a one time thing. For reference, about 67.1 million people die a year. You know how many people sleep EVERY SINGLE DAY???? 8 Billion. You know how many a year?????? two trillion nine hundred twenty billion.

That is how many people Dream's mind tends to EVERY, SINGLE, YEAR. So yes, Death is amazing, and bless her beautiful wings, however her job doesn't even scratch the SURFACE of the complexity of what Dream does every single day!!!!! So yes excuse Dream if he's strict on his rules, that are in place not for personal gain but for his dreamers PROTECTION. Dream who doesn't allow himself ANYTHING, Dream who works day and night with no breaks, sleep or food— Dream who still finds it in his heart to SMILE somehow.

Like I'm just???? How???? Dare???? Just. Look at him??? He's so good??? Despite his own flash and blood conspiring against him. Despite his own parents giving zero fucks about him, he still finds the compassion to care for a single child's life???? ?? ?? ? ? ? Dream who tries, despite the restrictions in place to be kind??? Who, honestly, taken really logical and sound decisions all through the series????? Like????

Bonus: Even Dream's own name is a showcase at how earnestly he wishes to be seen as good. How much he wishes for kindness from the people closest to him. Dream, he calls himself Dream. Not Sleep, not Nightmare— even though he is all of those things. no, he chooses to call himself a Dream and wishes for his loved ones to call him gently, to call him a Dream.

How does one look at such a sweet being and ridicule him. I will not accept. No. I shall not.

[dsudis]

(Everything Looks Worse) In Black and White

(IDK guys "Kodachrome" was in my commuting playlist yesterday and then this happened.)

Hob was not, by nature, particularly introspective. Still, he did know that one of the things that had kept him sane for six hundred years was the way that he had been able to adapt, not again and again but continuously. He changed with the times as they changed around him, not just in mimicry of everyone around him but truly.

Cell phones had been an exciting new gadget to him, and then a useful tool, and then, in time, as deeply embedded in his life as they were for anyone else who was a busy adult in London in the third decade of the twenty-first century.

All this was to say that it did, of course, occur to him to try to take selfies with Dream when things advanced between them to the point where he ought to have couple photos in his phone. The first picture he dared to actually take, though, was the first morning he woke up to find Dream lying in his bed looking rumpled and sweet.

Hob hadn't even really thought about it, just reached over for his phone and swiped up the camera, snapping a few shots before he looked directly at his phone. He was too busy looking at the way the early morning light made Dream look soft and warm, raising red-brown highlights in his black hair and warming the cool paleness of his skin. There was just enough light to reveal the blue of one half-open eye as Dream squinted and then glared at him.

Hob only looked at his phone when it made a strange mournful noise he'd never heard from it before; he had a bare glimpse of something weird and pixelated before the screen went black.

He frowned down at it, and Dream murmured in his lowest, sexiest rumble, "Is that infernal device of more interest than your lover naked in your bed, Hob Gadling?"

Hob tossed the phone over his shoulder and rolled toward Dream to kiss him and then climb on top of him. Hob didn't think about his phone for a while after that.

It was only after Dream had gone back to the Dreaming and Hob was trying to get on with his day that he hunted down where his phone had landed. It was physically unharmed—he'd long since learned the benefits of a sturdy case—but wouldn't turn back on for love or money. When Hob opened it up he found that some of its insides had melted.

The next time Dream stopped by, Hob showed it to him. "What did you do to my phone? Were you that annoyed to have your picture taken?"

Dream frowned—Hob hastily checked to be sure his new phone was nowhere in range—but he looked honestly confused. "I... did not intend to, my love. I apologize."

"No, no, my own fault," Hob said. "But now I'm curious."

He went and dug up an old phone. He kept meaning to trade them in or recycle them or donate them somewhere, but somehow he always had an old one or two floating around and never remembered it was there when he actually needed a replacement. Now he plugged it in under Dream's curious gaze, and waited until he could power it on.

He checked that the phone seemed basically functional, and then swiped open the camera and pointed it at Dream.

He clicked once, under Dream's baffled but benign gaze, and then looked down at the screen.

What should have been a photo of his otherworldly gorgeous beloved was just a smear of black and white.

"Huh," Hob said.

He showed it to Dream, who tilted his head in interest. "I suppose the device is trying to capture what it cannot. My appearance, to any living being, is mediated by expectations. Dreamers see me in a way that fits their own perceptions, but," Dream gestured at himself. "This is not a body like yours, as much as it looks and feels like one to you."

"Huh," Hob said, staring at the photo again, an objective glimpse at the unknowable vastness of Dream.

Then he clicked another photo, and another, and another, until the phone made a mournful noise and died. Since he didn't have to fling it away at once, he tapped a finger experimentally at the back until he found where it felt burning-hot; a sniff gave up a distinct smell of fried components and liquefied silicon.

"Are you quite satisfied?" Dream asked. There was a tiny smile on his face when Hob looked up.

Hob grinned back. "Oh, no," he said. "I'm just getting started."

Clearly anything with electronics was out, so Hob went shopping in various storage units and online. Proper film cameras captured different kinds of black-and-white blurs; Hob took up developing his own film to experiment with processes. He managed to pull weird iridescence in the blackest black and brightest white sometimes. He captured slight variations of shape.

He read the darkness and brightness like tea leaves, like omens. It was fun for a while, and then fascinating, trying to discern some truth of Dream's nature, some hint of his real form.

As time went on, and Dream told him less and less of what was going on in the Dreaming when they weren't together, Hob started to feel differently about it. It started to feel like it mattered. Like he had to catch an image of Dream.

Like he wasn't going to be able to keep him, and was going to need something to remember him by.

There was a day when Dream came to him quiet, withdrawn. There were no tear tracks on his face, but he smelled of salt, and he wouldn't meet Hob's eyes.

It was habit, by then, to set up the camera, to snap a few pictures. Dream didn't seem to notice. Hob hardly noticed himself.

It was only later that Hob developed the images and discovered two streaks of lurid, bloody red about where Dream's hands had been.

Hob didn't see him after that for a long time.

Dream turned up on a rainy night that felt weirdly like that night in 1889 even before Hob opened his door and found Dream standing there.

Dream actually asked for a drink, for the first time Hob could remember. He didn't say what was wrong, barely spoke about anything at all, but Hob could feel it radiating off him.

This felt like goodbye. It felt like sitting beside a deathbed.

Hob didn't know how to make Dream stay, didn't know how to stop whatever was happening to him.

The only thing he could think of was to crawl into Dream's lap and kiss him—and after he'd taken that as far as he could, he grabbed the camera and snapped a shot of the two of them together. The first selfie he'd ever tried with Dream.

He didn't develop the film. He didn't want to know how it looked. He didn't want to know that his last attempt to keep some little piece of Dream had been another hopeless failure.

On a sunny Sunday morning, Hob woke up and Dream was lying in his bed. For a moment he couldn't breathe; for a moment the ache in his heart was enough to pin him in place. It had to be a dream, a hopeless memory of the way things had been a year ago, when Hob had imagined there was a future for them.

Dream made a disgruntled noise and turned his face into the pillow, pulling his arm up over his head, and—

There was hair under his arm. There was, in fact, a distinct whiff of body odor.

"Dream?" Hob whispered.

"If you are going to send me away," Dream said, his voice velvety and deep but lacking some impossible edge it used to have. "Kind—" he cleared his throat, "please, lend me some clothes. My siblings were optimistic about how this would end."

"Your siblings," Hob said, shuffling through the little Dream had ever told him about his family. Had Death done something?

Had... Destiny? Despair? Desire? The missing one whose name Dream never spoke to Hob?

Delirium?

Hob sat up and pinched himself, hard, but Dream was still lying naked in his bed, and now Hob could see that he was breathing. As Hob watched he turned his face out of the pillow, like he was experiencing the discomfort of not breathing freely when he hid his face in it.

"Dream," Hob repeated. "What..."

Dream turned over, slinging an arm over his face. "I am... just what you see, now. I have abandoned my realm. I am your Dream as you have known me, but no longer Dream of the Endless."

For a second there his voice almost had that elusive something, but—he only sounded like a human being trying to sound uncanny.

Dream was... here. And alive, despite the way things had seemed to be going.

"My Dream," Hob whispered.

Dream just barely peeked out from behind his arm, and Hob lunged sideways to grab his phone. He fumbled a few times trying to pull up the camera and snap a pic, his hands shaking badly, but after a few tries he dared to look down at the screen.

Dream was there, just as he looked to Hob, if on a strange angle and poorly framed. His pale skin was given a golden cast by the sunlight, his black hair showed highlights that looked almost red where the light was brightest, and one visible blue eye was narrowed in a glare.

"Is that infernal device," Dream murmured, a faint thread of amusement in his voice, "of more interest than—"

Hob threw the phone over his shoulder and silenced Dream with a kiss. When they both had to stop to breathe, he came up laughing; the second time they stopped Dream was laughing too.

Later—much later—Hob printed that first shaky picture and framed it.

[Also on Ao3!]

[cuubism]

I am IN LOVE with Dream and his freaky little bookshop. Mostly bc I would basically move in if it was real, all it's missing is a cat to chill in the window and I'm in heavennnn

Speaking of heaven, how do you think Dream gets on with Aziraphale from GO? Are they besties? Are they (im)mortal enemies bc both of them are battling it out for the rarest books on the planet (and Dream is obviously winning)? They're both my favourite characters ever so if you're into Good Omens at all I'd love to hear your take on it. Personally I think Dream doesn't care bc he wins anyways (except for the Nice and Accurate Prophecies of Agnes Nutter, Witch, I bet holds a grudge about that) meanwhile Aziraphale LOATHS him for taking his books and then, God forbid, SELLING them!!! To the general public!!! Imagine!! And that's how Hob and Dream walk in on Crowley "robbing" The Library on Aziraphale's behalf but he honestly doesn't know what he's looking for and in the end just buys whatever book it is with Dreams help. Sorry for the bit of the ramble but yeah!!! I love your stuff!!

I think your take is probably right that they have a somewhat contentious relationship but only from Aziraphale's end 😂 he's torn between being lowkey obsessed with Dream and wanting to be his friend and HATING him, because first of all A Kindred Spirit the likes of which he's never met, but on the other hand he just gives books away! Just hands them out to any old person! Even more sacrilegious, Dream is delighted when a book comes back with annotations because it's a sign of a story well enjoyed and it adds to the history of that particular copy. Aziraphale is going to faint.

Nevertheless they are hanging out and talking about books quite a lot. Dream will just give Aziraphale any book he wants and Aziraphale still doesn't understand it for the life of him. It haunts him but he still accepts the books.

I feel like Crowley WOULD rob the shop before Dream and Aziraphale properly know each other. Just wants to take some rare book Aziraphale is looking for, not realizing Dream would just give it to him because his whole ~thing~ is uniting people with the books that they need. Dream and Crowley run into each other when Crowley's robbing him and before Dream can even say that he can just borrow whatever he wants Crowley is flinging a dictionary at his head and fleeing the scene. Then Aziraphale makes him go back the next day and apologize because listen we can't afford to make an enemy of this guy who has all the rare books in the city!! Honestly!!

Dream's only reaction was like "yup, normal risks of being a bookstore owner. I face physical violence on the daily." If Hob was there he would not have found it funny though 😂 he might have been /prepared/ with an atlas in Dream's defense. A fistfight might have ensued. Learning that Crowley was a demon would not have put Hob off from the fight in the slightest. While they're hitting each other, Dream and Aziraphale are having tea.

[callunavulgari]

Top 25 Fics of 2023

1. whatever you want by Wildehack (tyleet) | Wolf 359 | Kepler/Jacobi | 5k

Kepler doesn't fuck him that first day, when Daniel swallows his pride like it's a hot coal he can feel boiling down to the pit of his stomach and dials the number left on the card. Heather Says: Back in 2017, Wolf 359 changed my life. I relisten to it every year. I reread fic. I sometimes write it. And THIS year, I was blessed with one of my favorites writing my favorites from Wolf 359. It's honestly exactly what I wanted out of a Wolf 359 fix it/coda.

2. god was a dog-man by @andthepeople | Teen Wolf | Derek/Stiles | 13k

“Do you have a secret teenage son?” Stiles demands, as soon as Derek opens the door. Heather Says: I did NOT watch the Teen Wolf movie this year. I did, however, relentlessly stalk reaction posts and (very select) gifsets. I also read this fantastic fic, which is now the movie in my brain because since I didn't see it, I'll never know.

3. then out of nowhere, somebody comes and hits you with an ooh la la la, ooh la la la, ooh la la la, ooh by @calciseptine | Deadpool | Peter/Wade | 49k

A man with spider-themed superpowers accidentally breaks into Wade's apartment. Heather Says: Deadpool is one of those fandoms that I'm technically a part of because I like it and I think Spiderman and Deadpool is both hilarious and hot, but it's always just on the edge of my peripherals. But sometimes Steve's fic just kind of creeps on me and demands my attention. This was my feel good fic this spring.

4. By the Laws of Magic by Lenore | The Sandman | Dream/Hob | 32k

It’s 1959, and Hob Gadling is working at a London auction house, amazing his colleagues with his uncanny knowledge of art and artifacts from the 14th century on. When he gets the assignment to catalogue a family library at a place called Fawney Rig, he looks forward to a working vacation in the country. What he finds is a house with a preternatural chill where odd disturbances happen daily, an ornate carved door with a secret clearly hidden behind it, and visions of his mysterious stranger every time he turns around. Heather Says: I honestly love this ship. The fairy tale elements combined with the very compelling idea that in another universe much like this one, Hob Gadling ends up saving Dream from his glass prison made for some truly great fiction.

5. Dawnshot Through the Heart by @sirnotappearinginthisblog | Wax&Wayne series | Wax/Wayne | WIP | 80k

Ten years ago, Wayne fled instead of letting himself get arrested for murder. He’s been an outlaw ever since, keeping one step ahead of the lawkeepers who want him dead or alive—especially Dawnshot. But his luck was bound to run out eventually, and he knows how it always ends for the Bad Guys in stories. Heather Says: I think that this is the only WIP on here but I cannot rightfully leave it off because I LOVED this fic this year. I love the Mistborn series, but I've never really sought out fic for it before. This one though, this one found me. The writing is SUPERB and I wish it was a bigger fandom because it deserves so much love, you guys. It's so so so good. I love Wax and Wayne's dynamic in the series. They're great. But also- what if they had an enemies to lovers thing going on that turned poly? WHAT IF?!

6. One Size Fits All by @entanglednow | Stranger Things | Eddie/Steve | 65k

Steve just wanted to do something nice for a friend, he doesn't mean to get Eddie's ring stuck on his finger, and it's definitely not his fault that everyone he knows is jumping to conclusions. Heather Says: This is not the last time that you will see this author or this ship on this list. I really would have thought that Steddie would have crept out of my brain right now, but NOPE. And part of that is because every couple weeks entanglednow drops an absolute BANGER of a fic that obliterates my brain for anything else.

7. you are spring by @wildehacked | Supernatural | Castiel/Dean | 20k

God makes a wish. His parents work some things out. Heather Says: I got very close to leaving this one off the list, not because it wasn't good or that it wasn't one of my top 25 but purely because I've been out of the Supernatural fandom for so many years. I mean, c'mon. I didn't watch the last FIVE seasons. However, getting to follow along wildehacked's rewatch journey on twitter was a blast from the past and then THIS lovely shining fic that they churned out lured me back in for one last nibble at this ship that took over my life for the better part of a decade. It is so incredibly amazing and since I never finished the series, I will happily go on pretending that this is how it ended.

8. Interim by starkraving | BotW/TOtK | Ganondorf/Link/Zelda | 95k

She has no throne. Girls without thrones should not have knights, but hers won’t go. Princess Zelda – the girl who killed Calamity – would love to fade into legend, but Link’s bought a house, he’s fighting off monsters, and he’s selling giant horses to strangely familiar Gerudo men. She'll never have any peace now. Heather Says: This fic. THIS FIC. Is so richly built. Is so intoxicating. It leans into found family. You spend chapter after chapter watching Zelda and Link traverse Hyrule with the hot Gerudo that they met along the way after the events of the first game. And it is so fucking compelling. Honestly, while I'm happy that they smooched, I would have been completely fine reading another 100k of just these three wandering Hyrule together, being absolute goblins. 10 out 10, will read again.

9. one hundred years past by tciddaemina | BotW/TotK | Ganondorf/Link | 38k

Link wakes up a century early. It changes everything. Heather Says: Can you tell that playing Tears of the Kingdom left me desperately thirsty for any and all Ganondorf content this summer? I'm a sucker for all sides of the poly triforce but I'll admit that Ganondorf and Link scratches that enemies to lovers itch PERFECTLY if it's done well. And this one is done well.

10. Step Right Up by entanglednow | Stranger Things | Steve/Eddie | 3k

Steve had mostly given up on trying to meet anyone new after everything, but it's been six months and his friends had started giving him pointed nudges to get out there again. Heather Says: Told you it wouldn't be the last you saw of entanglednow. I actually think that this might be my favorite fic that they've written? Which is saying a lot because I will scream it to the rafters that any Steddie fan should read their fic. But this is FUN HOUSE MIRROR MAZE and MISTAKEN IDENTITY KISSING. Guys, I have no chill about this fic. I have no chill about Steve's hands in Eddie's hair, or the sounds that he makes, or the smell of strawberry. It is just so so good.

11. the most remarkable thing about you standing in the doorway is that it’s you by @greatunironic | Stranger Things | Steve/Eddie | 35k

Sixteen years after the world didn't end for the last time, Max Mayfield showed up on Steve’s doorstep and said, “You gonna walk me down the aisle in May or what?” Or, it’s 2002 and Steve Harrington attends a wedding, a funeral, and a birth. Heather Says: I genuinely do not think that I have words for this one. It is one of those all encompassing fics that sucks you in and just won't spit you out again. It hurts, an ache just under the breastbone. But god, it's so beautiful.

12. Fight Night by @rlnerdgirl | Teen Wolf | Derek/Stiles | 12k

Stiles starts fighting in college. He doesn't tell anyone. Heather Says: There are three...? Yeah, three Teen Wolf fics on this list. Three. Like it's 2015 again. Like my brain broke and time went ticking all the way back to when I was ridiculously invested in these characters. But honestly? All three Teen Wolf fics on this list are incredibly therapeutic. They get to be the ending for me instead of whatever clusterfuck good ole Jeff tried to pull. This one in particular is fantastic because it's canon-divergence after SEASON one. Yes, we have Erica and Boyd. Yes, Stiles is BAMF. It's a good read.

13. strange fear i ain’t felt for years by Sister | Batman | Tim/Jason | 31k

“Can’t believe a pretty thing like you has to come begging to the Red Hood,” he says against Tim’s neck. “Thought they’d be lining up down the block for you. Thought Daddy would need to get the shotgun.” Heather Says: Oh look, another ship and fandom that I was only peripherally aware of that had me in a chokehold for a good month and a half. I don't even like DC that much.

14. Silver-Tongue by starkraving | Baldur's Gate 3 | Astarion/Karlach | 9k

Astarion fast-talks an abnormal number of enemies into killing themselves in the shadow-cursed lands and the team makes idle (then less idle) conversation about it. Heather Says: Okay, so I STILL have not finished this game. I have however very carefully consumed as much content as I can get my hands on without being completely and totally spoiled. This was the first fic that I really loved in this fandom. It's no surprise that I ship Astarion happily with everyone, but damn is he good with Karlach in this one. Their characterization is perfect.

15. A Sign of The Morning by ToEdenandBackAgain | Stranger Things | Eddie/Steve | 86k

Vecna is dead. The Upside Down is cut off from Hawkins yet again. Steve is trying to go back to normal, whatever that is. He's also trying to figure out exactly how Eddie Munson has managed to fit so easily into his life. Heather Says: Honestly? What can I say about this one? It has 19,000 kudos despite being published last June. It's on a ridiculous number of collection/rec lists. The tension is exquisite. The found family? Even better.

16. Phantom of Truth by Haiju | Danny Phantom | Maddie Fenton & Danny Fenton | 58k

Locked away in a secret government lab with Phantom as her sole object of study, nothing stands between Maddie and the truth... except, perhaps, herself. Heather Says: Oh look, another fandom that I have never ever been a part of. I saw this REALLY NEAT and angsty tiktok (tw for ghosty gore) and basically immediately was sucked into a show that I've never even watched before. The comments lead me to this fic which is perfectly gen, angsty, and honestly absolutely perfect. I cannot get over how much I loved this.

17. Manacled by senlinyu | Harry Potter | Draco/Hermione | 370k

Harry Potter is dead. In the aftermath of the war, in order to strengthen the might of the magical world, Voldemort enacts a repopulation effort. Heather Says: I did the thing. I read the incredibly dark fic that I've been avoiding since 2018. I typically steer-clear of anything that is overly bleak and I do not tiptoe into non-con waters often. But one of our groomsmen who isn't even involved with fandom read this so that his girlfriend would watch Star Wars with him and then spent a good portion of a Halloween party talking it up. So I gave it a shot. Over all, it is too bleak for me. That said, I finished it in a weekend. I loved it. I hated it. I wish I'd broken it up over a longer period of time because the emotional bleed off of it was intense.

18. Ready for Love by @idiopathicsmile | Singin in the Rain | Cosmo/Kathy/Don | 12k

Don and Kathy would move in together. They would have a dog or two and then inevitably, a small parade of adorable little brats who would call him Uncle Cosmo, and they would spend less and less time with him, not on purpose but busy with the rest of their lives, and ultimately Cosmo would learn to make his peace with it because he’d have no other choice and he would have to try to move on and not live too much in his memories. He could picture it so clearly, he figured if the songwriting gig with Monumental didn’t pan out, he could always return to the backwater circuit with a new act: The Amazing Cosmo of the Cosmos—ladies and gentlemen, he sees the future, he reads the stars, he silently pines for his best married pal and all the while tap dancing! Don and Kathy inviting him along on their honeymoon, though—that part was a surprise. Heather Says: I LOVE this movie. It is one of my biggest comfort movies. I watch it to feel happy. I watch it when I'm sad. And I have always shipped these three but NEVER read fic for it. And honestly? I'm glad I waited for a good fic to find me because this one was perfect.

19. A Series of Forgettable Events by @trensu | Stranger Things | Steve/Eddie | 27k

Steve wanted to be a dad more than anything. Unfortunately, he was a single dude in his thirties which meant no adoption agency in the world was willing to give him a chance. Or at least no human adoption agency. Heather Says: Honestly just a delightful little jaunt in a world where Steve wants to be a dad, Eddie is a very overprotective siren, and the kids are, well. Little horrors. I love it. There's a sequel now which I am very patiently waiting to read it until I am less busy in RL.

20. the dry sand of daylight by @andthepeople | Inception | Arthur/Eames | 15k

Arthur is married to Eames for the better part of a decade. Then he wakes up. Heather Says: This fic left me ACHING for the Inception fandom circa 2010-2012. When livejournal was still a thing and the fandom community was alive and thriving. It is so achingly tender and perfect. I had forgotten how much I loved them.

21. brutalist masterpieces by @greatunironic | Stranger Things | Steve/Eddie | 12k

Ten years on, in a town in Nova Scotia, on the edge of the Atlantic, Eddie finds Steve again, and also maybe himself. Heather Says: Maybe that's my thing this year. Achingly sweet tender pieces that leave you reeling in the aftermath. This fic is SO incredibly beautiful.

22. What Made Milwaukee Famous by synthetica | Danny Phantom | Vlad/Danny | 30k

Ten years after establishing a tenuous truce, Danny crash-lands at Vlad's Milwaukee lakehouse with a particularly nasty wound, three days recovery time, and absolutely nothing to do but talk to his long-lost archnemesis. Heather Says: I'm told that this is something of a rarepair. However, from the limited information that I have from the series I can say with full certainty that two ghostly beings locked for years as enemies growing up and meeting in the middle? Fully my thing.

23. then now and always by @raisesomehale | Teen Wolf | Derek/Stiles | 13k

Stiles is stuck. Stiles is stuck in the fucking snow in the middle of bum-fuck-nowhere at night with a broken down car three days before Christmas, and the nearest tow truck company—over fifty miles away—doesn’t open until morning. Heather Says: And here we have the promised third Teen Wolf fic, the most cathartic of the bunch. I am so so sweet on future fic particularly in this fandom with missed chances. And this one is just so syrupy sweet. It's winter! There's horses! Derek's an alpha! They smooch. Anyway, this is how I cope with a series finale that didn't happen and a movie that doesn't exist.

24. Terminus by @rcmclachlan | Loki | Loki/Mobius | 4k

"Keep me here," he begs against Mobius's lips. "You must keep me here." Heather Says: What do you mean you didn't spend all three replays of the Loki series finale weeping into a pillow? What do you mean you didn't spend the next few days trying to find the perfect coda? What do you mean that you didn't find this fic and positively expire from the sheer fucking tenderness in Mobius' voice? What do you mean? What. do you. mean? Anyway, I know I'm not supposed to have number one favorites. This list exists because I cannot condense it further than 25. But guys, this was my favorite fic this year.

25. Eye Of The Beholder by @entanglednow | Stranger Things | Steve/Eddie | 22k

Eddie works himself up to ask Steve if he can borrow his instant camera, because the type of pictures he wants to take are…not the kind he can get developed in town. Heather Says: And to round it out, another Steddie. This one with sexy photos. The tension is killer.

[avelera]

for the choosing violence ask game: 22?

OH MAN, this is such dangerous territory but uh...

22 ) your favorite part of canon that everyone else ignores

Hob doesn't actually brood over Dream?

1589 - Hob goes from annoyed at Dream and Shaxberd to, "Nowhere to go but up!" in like...2 seconds flat. The guy is totally unbothered or even if he's bothered, he processes, rationalizes, sees the bright side, and moves on in an absolutely dizzyingly short amount of time.

1989 - Similarly, we find out that Hob didn't spend 100 years blaming Dream for running off. He's anxious at the start of the meeting and clearly troubled throughout, but we learn he blames himself! He thinks he was the idiot, not that Dream was unfair to him. This bartender doesn't know Dream, there's no reason Hob couldn't vent his frustrations there. Hob just doesn't have any frustrations to vent. Again, he's already processed, rationalized, seen the bright side, moved on, and is ready to be there again in 100 years or as we learn, stick around in the area just in case his stranger was delayed somehow and make sure he's easy to find. When Dream does show up, all he says is, "Your late."

I only say this because I myself am guilty too of writing Hob with lingering angst towards Dream, either recrimination, annoyance, grief, or doubt. That's... not actually there on the page. And I do think that's important and doesn't deny the ship at all.

Because what kind of personality can withstand immortality like that? In my opinion, it's someone who is incredibly resilient, who bounces back almost instantly from whatever life throws and them, and who doesn't hold grudges, at least not against loved ones (I can see Hob having a good-natured grudge towards Shakespeare but even then, on the page, we have him attending Shakespeare plays in 1789 and calling Shakespeare a half-decent playwright).

Obviously we're writing romance between them with Dreamling so it's more romantic to have Hob pining and emotional about Dream's abandonment. But, honestly, it's also really interesting if he's not? Not because he doesn't care, but because he's just built like that, whether by nature or nurture through his immortality. He withstands the centuries by being incredibly zen about everything Dream does and far from being unromantic, I think it would be interesting to see that aspect of Hob, where he's not like normal people and that's why he has the ability to withstand eternity, explored more in fic?

[gabessquishytum]

Hob mistaken for a prostitute by Dream.

Hob is just sitting in this hotel bar getting a drink when this blazingly hot man walks up to him and starts talking.

Hob's leaving tomorrow and had been in dumb meetings all day selling his tech company for more money than he thought existed for an idea he came up with his late wife; He and Robyn will be set for life (2 or 3 lives). Hob just wanted a drink to decompress (and quietly freak out). Somehow, this hot guy, who didn't share his name, talked Hob up to his room and blew his back out/they blew each others' backs out (Hob honestly stopped tracking when they front'ed against the room door to a fast 1st one each).

When Hob wakes up the next morning to a pile of cash and a note on hotel stationary saying 'thanks and hope this covers it + tip', he's gobsmacked. 1. It was a lot of money - at least he's a good whore; and 2. Hob didn't think they connected for a long term thing or anything, but he certainly didn't think his stranger thought he was on the job!

Well, life is weird and full, and this will be a great story for his friends at the pub -- Joanna is going to give him so much sh*t. Hob certainly doesn't expect to see his stranger again, now.

This is my new favourite thing. I’m actually so tempted to throw this in my wip pile because omg. I LOVE sex worker Hob, but not-actually-a-sex-worker Hob is so fucking funny and weirdly hot.

Anyway, it keeps Hob from moping as he starts his new life with Robyn. Whenever he’s sad he has a little chuckle about that night. He’ll mutter “chin up, you’re a good whore remember?” whenever he’s having a crisis. He’s moved to this smallish village with a school for Robyn and a nice little pub where Hob has taken on a few shifts that he doesn’t need but hey, they were short staffed. He’s made a small circle of friends and Robyn’s grandparents are just down the road. It’s a very comfortable life.

And then one night he’s hanging out with his friends at the pub, and someone new comes in. Hob doesn’t get a glimpse until Joanna waves the stranger over and introduces him as an old uni mate.

It’s the guy. The hot guy who paid him £4000 cash for sex. Holy shit.

Their eyes meet and Hob feels his face turn bright red. The stranger introduces himself as Morpheus and sits down awkwardly next to Hob, while the rest of the group dissolves back into chatter. Which would be fine, except — Morpheus starts whisper-asking polite questions about Hob’s job. Do his friends know? Should Morpheus be discreet about their encounter? Is Hob being safe? Hob nearly dies there at the table. How’s he supposed to tell the guy that he’s a millionaire, not a rent boy?!

The worst part is, Morpheus is so fucking hot. Hob wants him all over again. And because he’s a fucking idiot, he lets Morpheus take him back to the little B&B he’s staying at nearby. Once again Hob is fucked into sweet oblivion in several different rooms, and when he’s too sore to go any more he takes over and finally fucks Morpheus on the actual bed. Morpheus gives him permission to stay the night and Hob thinks that he really, REALLY needs to come clean but. They both fall asleep.

In the morning over coffee in the kitchen, Morpheus says “I am afraid I only have £500 in cash. Do you have a PayPal account?” Just as Joanna pops in through the back door (it’s her girlfriend’s b&b, she has a key).

“Oh my GOD, Hob.” She says. “This is why EVERYONE assumes that you’re a whore!”

…and from there onwards, chaos reigns.

[punkeropercyjackson]

Unpopular Hobie takes/opinions

Him and Gwen actually have pretty good romantic chemistry and if it were up to me they would've been canon instead of Ghostflower with Miles having moved on from Gwen romantically and Gwen thinking of him purely platonically from the get-go

But also,they work just as well as found siblings and NOT parent-child because even with the interpretation of adult Hobie,he has Dad Friend vibes,not Actual Dad ones.The one thing i would change about romantic Ghostpunk also is making Gwen a half white afrolatina since Hobie would be poc4poc for obvious reasons

The trope of him being a popular target of thirst on Earth 138 thanks to being in a band is honestly kind of stupid because yes he's objetively handsome as fuck(/platonic)but also he's also a black person living in 1970s England.Speaking from the experience of a biracial homecountry raised afrolatino who grew up with the white side of his family only and went to predominantly white/nonblack poc schools,he definitely gets a lot of comments on his apperance but not positive ones and the best he'll get from most is a backhanded compliment

He dosen't listen to indie music but he loves indie games since part of anti-capitalism is supporting small bussiness and creators

Him and Noir wouldn't be all that close-Obviously they'd like eachother because Noir's based but i can't see him ever being into him romantically,even disregarding that he looks exactly like Peter B which would make dating him So Fucking Weird

He hates being theythemed-No shade to people who headcanon him with any pronouns or do actual respectful nonbinary rep with him but i find the idea that Hobs being nonbinary means he'd use only they/them to be just reinventing the gender binary as a genderqueer person who largely perfers he/him even if he's got they/them in his pronouns set too

He's jamaican(Honestly not entierly sure if this is in unpopular but i looked for content and found only a small amount of posts)

Related to the above,i fucking HATE the weed jokes because oh yeah,of course the jamaican guy is a stoner hahaha NOT you guys aren't funny

His favorite color is pink and that's why he turns pink when he's happiest(Around Miles because babyboy is CRUSHING and around Mayday because again,Dad Friend so obviously he loves babies)

He's not really a sexual person including his humor and tbh i find very creepy how often he's assumed to be based off his flirtations because y'all,Gwen's a MINOR and SO IS MILES and the crop top is to be gnc,stop making it weird,this is a kids movie!Plus that's not even getting into black male stereotypes

I don't like the idea of him and Miles G or Pavitr together because no hate Chaipunk shippers because i truly do think it's a good ship but all the feminization of Pavitr has ruined it for me and it's not helped by me not seeing anything between them in the movie and just casually shipping them and i think it's better if our Miles gets a Hobie and Miles G gets a Ganke seeing as our Miles was robbed of his thanks to the Mcu so it's equal.Also Prowlerpunk shippers are always so fucking goofy,STOP drawing Hobie without his beautiful black features other than his melanin

Him and Jessica have a mother-son relathionship that parallels Miles and Peter B's,including that Hobie has an actual mom but diffinerating in that he actually views her as a parental figure(while Miles sees Peter B as his older brother)-Purely headcanon based but that little interaction between them at the end screamed that they're close so she knows his attitude

Margo is one of his best friend's because obviously she is,i don't even need to explain why and Margobie/Siblings!Punk Byte both have way more of a basis than Noirpunk

His counterpart in Batman crossovers should be Stephanie Brown or Duke Thomas,not Jason Todd because they share some similarities but Stephanie and Duke are almost exactly like him(Including names regarding him and Stephanie and i've even nicknamed her Stephie so there's that)

And also,he's a Percy Jackson and Katara kinnie

Rio and Jefferson would actually fucking love him because guess what,it's stupid and transparently antiblack to automatically assume a black couple would see a black boy who's unbelivably sweet-looking but brand him as a thug who's out to abuse their child just because he's alt and isn't a fence sitter about oppression-In fact,they'd tease Miles about someone as dorky as them pulling someone as cool as Hobie and there should be gags about them loving Gwen as a person but being SO relieved he's not actually dating a white girl

@nogender-onlystars

[why-what-no]

Morpheus Falling For Hob’s Friend Would Include

Pairing: Morpheus x Reader

Warnings: None

Notes: This took so long to post, very sorry for the wait

Requested by: @armaria

You had met Morpheus around the same time as his third meeting with Hob.

You had befriend the immortal human after watching him lose everything, feeling bad for the poor man.

As a magic user, immortality wasn't an impossible concept for you. You were just like him in that way. So for the first time he had someone he could trust.

Because of that, he took you to meet Morpheus. And to Hob's surprise, the mysterious man who gave him immortality took a liking to you.

In fact, you stayed a lot longer to converse with Morpheus than he did. Hob had no idea what the two of you had spoken about, but you left the conversation with a shy grin on your face.

You didn’t see him the next time however, you had stopped speaking to Hob after he had started his new business.

The time after that however, you were there again. Morpheus wouldn’t admit it, but he was pleased.

Despite that, he promised himself he wouldn’t visit you after he and Hob argued. Not wanting to admit he cared about Hob or you.

It was only after his meeting with Hob after his escape from the cage that he decided to find you once more.

He discovered you traveling, seeing the world. You were surprised when you saw him again, but very happy. Thrilled to see the mysterious man again.

He wasn’t a mystery for long, though. So much more open than he had ever been, willing to tell you more about himself.

Morpheus offered to show you the dreaming, wanting to spent more time together.

It wasn’t hard for him to fall in love with you, having been interested in you from the moment the two of you guys met. And you felt the same.

Hob wasn’t surprised, having had his suspicions about you guys. Honestly, he was glad that his two oldest friends were happy together

(Now that Morpheus had admitted they were friends, of course)

The three of you would hang out together, Morpheus’s arm around your shoulder as you guys would reminisce about your extremely long lives.

All so glad that you guys were immortal. Because if you hadn’t been, none of you would have experienced this pure joy and companionship.

Taglist: @stygianoir