#more soon or at least eventually

[cuubism]

Déjà vu, Déjà connu

[AO3]

based on dreamlings' post

I’m here because… I’m interested.

The words circle Dream’s mind. A spiral of questions with no answer. Interested. Interested. Hob’s hands on his hips. Hob’s mouth along his throat.

In me?

No, Dream thinks. Hob’s fingers inside him, pressing buttons untouched for centuries with the brutality and care of an experienced lover. Yes, yes, maybe, yes.

--

1503.

Dream lies in bed, afterwards, loose and languid. Looking up at the dark wood paneling of the ceiling, the fine grains and whorls of it. Contemplating.

Hob settles back on the mattress beside him, laughs. “I’ve never seen someone thinking so hard after sex.”

“Perhaps I am grading you,” Dream says, and Hob laughs harder.

“Oh, yeah? What score’d I get, then? ‘Cuz I’ll tell you, I never been to proper school, but I have a pretty good bedroom education.”

Dream’s lips tip up in an unwitting smile. Hob is looser, like this. Free and charming, when he does not know who Dream is. Does not think he is a demon, or the devil come to claim his soul. Just a passing traveler in an inn.

Dream had not intended to run into him. He had not intended to see Hob at all until their next scheduled meeting ninety or so years from today. He had come to the waking world for a quick errand, hunting after an occult artifact he’d heard might be in the area.

He’d draped himself in a different form than usual so as to leave less of a trail. Not so different from his usual shape, still lean and angular because it felt right to be barely of flesh, to slip into the shadows between things. But his hair was shorter and lighter than when he’d last seen Hob, his eyes a muted brown, face softer.

Dream did not take much note of his own appearance, most of the time, but Jessamy had advised him to tone down the drama, so Dream had—again to borrow her words—shaved off the more striking edges of his form. Made himself more nondescript.

And then—leaving an unproductive meeting with an artifacts dealer who did not have what he needed, and frustrated for it – he had stumbled into Hob. Hob, who wore this era well, settled into his immortality in the decade and a half since their meeting. Whose auspicious printing trade seemed to be treating him nicely. 

“Whoa, now,” Hob had said, steadying him by the arm as they brushed past each other. They had never touched before, and Dream had stared at the point where Hob’s hand held him. Hob had looked him up and down un-subtly. “Haven’t seen you around here before, have I?” 

“I am just leaving,” Dream had said, making for the door of the inn. 

Hob hadn’t blocked his way, but he had called out. “Sure I can’t convince you to stay for a drink?”

And Dream—he had been frustrated. The waking world made him itch at the best of times, and to have his time wasted to boot—

And Hob was—interesting. Dream was loath to admit this, but his company at their last meeting had been engaging. Left Dream wanting to know more in a way he usually did not, with people.

He should have left. Instead, he had stopped. “If you are buying,” he’d said, because he’d felt it was a more human response than entertain me with your stories, Hob Gadling.

He had turned back just in time to see Hob’s brilliant grin. “Pretty thing like you?” he had said. “Anything you want.”

This, Dream had thought, as he’d followed Hob over to a table, was a Hob closer to the one he had first encountered in 1389 than the one he’d last seen. Rakish, confident, swaggering. Then again, Hob had walked into their last meeting thinking Dream intended to claim his soul, so Dream supposed he could forgive him the break in self-assurance.

The ease of him in that moment drew something in Dream towards him, like a moon caught in planetary gravity.

He had not given Hob a name, and Hob had not given him his, though of course Dream knew it. Secrecy, anonymity, half-hidden glances caught in firelight, words half-spoken and left hanging in implication. This was not a scene, a moment, Dream had experienced outside of stories. But, like a story, it had drawn him in, caught him in the web Hob had unintentionally spun around him, just with his presence. 

Not much felt new to Dream, but this had. He had never been propositioned over a drink before. He had never been eyed up over ale left untouched, unspoken thoughts so bare in the looks laid upon him. He had never been led into the dark corner of a tavern, and felt up with such daring familiarity, or pulled upstairs to a shadowed bedroom, and fucked slow and good like he was not just a casual lay but a lodestone. 

He had never taken a human lover. Every lover in Dream’s past had known who he was, what he was. 

He had never been treated so casually, moved around so easily, his lover ignorant of the dangers of him. And he had never been looked at with such regard by one who did not know his station. For Hob’s looks were by turns heavy and playful but never, never casual. Did he treat all his lovers thus?

Dream should not have allowed any of it. He had thought so, to himself, over and over. Hob kissing up his neck—I should not allow this—Hob tangling a fist in his hair and pulling his head back—I should not allow this—Hob pushing inside him—I should not allow this—Hob kissing him so tenderly afterward—I should not—

“You were adequate,” he tells Hob now, and Hob laughs, raucous and loud. 

Dream has allowed it, and now he remembers why he should not. Because now that he has had it, he craves it, the weight and heft of Hob’s body, and his sweet lips, and the heat of him. Hob has surprised him with his care and carefulness and consideration. He is greedy, yes, for life and for sensation, and he takes, yes, but he also gives. He gives and gives. 

“Tough crowd,” Hob complains, goodnaturedly. His look upon Dream is fond and indulgent. “Do I at least get to retake the exam?”

“Have you studied?” Dream asks. He drags a hand down the muscles of Hob’s arm, feeling the warmth of his skin. 

Hob leans in and tugs on the lobe of his ear with his teeth. “I’ll make a study of you as long as you let me.”

It has been long, very long, since Dream has had a lover. The singular attention is blinding.

“Do your best, then, and perhaps there will be a reward if you pass,” Dream says, and Hob flows back on top of him. There is experience in every movement of him, and it’s intoxicating.

Do not allow it, Dream thinks. Once inside, it will latch, as all his lovers have, and he will be caught, even if only in his own mind.

Hob’s hands catch under his jaw and tip his head up into a kiss.

He allows it.

--

“I feel like I met you before,” Hob muses, after, a hand to Dream’s jaw. Familiar, so familiar. Dream doesn’t deny him. “But I definitely would have remembered.”

Dream’s pulse flutters despite himself, and he’s not sure if it’s concern over being recognized or something else. “Would you?”

Hob scrutinizes him. “For sure. But. I don’t know, it’s not coming to me, so maybe I’m just imagining things.”

“Maybe so,” Dream agrees.

Hob’s lips twist in a wry smile. “So helpful, you are. Maybe this, maybe that. I see you, mysterious figure in the night.”

“Mysterious?” Dream echoes. This form is far more human, more mundane, than his usual shape. He has kept himself very contained within the bounds of reason.

Hob taps his forehead. “You’re all question marks. Bet you like it that way.”

“Maybe so,” Dream says, and Hob laughs. And Dream feels a burst of fondness for him, for the way he takes things in stride, his generosity in so easily allowing Dream his secrets, his endless joy in life displayed at their last meeting and even more brightly now. 

“Maybe maybe maybe, ” Hob says. “Maybe I’ll run into you again sometime?”

“In your dreams, perhaps,” Dream says. Hob chuckles like he’s made a joke, but Dream is not sure that he was not serious. He could… find himself wanting this. He could find himself starving for it. Hob drags a hand up and down his arm, light but proprietary, and Dream shouldn’t let him do that, but he does not pull away.

“Telling me to dream about you isn’t going to help me let you go,” Hob says.

“You would hold on so tightly after only one night?” Dream asks.

“You don’t get more nights if you don’t hold on,” says Hob.

No, Dream thinks, as he steals away later that night, slipping out from under Hob’s arm in the darkness to return to the Dreaming. No, I suppose you do not.

[wasyago]

welp, didn't manage to get everything out before season 10 started, but i gotta post it one way or another so here we go! heard there was a fandom swap game going on, wanted to do a couple promts of my own :D

[ultimaratiovaccinium]

Sweets (1/?)

The snugness was barely tolerable. She had overestimated herself. She looked surreptitiously over her shoulder and ducked around a corner. The only thing following her were her bad decisions, but she felt chased all the same.

Okay. Calm down. Breathe (but not too deep). Evaluate the situation. What are your options? Can you loosen anything?

She looked down at herself. Past her swollen breasts, past a fluffy roll of upper belly, she examined her waistline. Nope. The button was the only thing keeping the zipper together, and vice versa. For the millionth time, she lamented her morning. What a bright idea, interviewing for a job with a snack company. She was very well aware of how sweets affected her.

Could she find somewhere discrete to wait out her... little metabolic mishap? She looked around for a discrete nook to accommodate her fresh bulk.

The little atrium she had found had a series of plush benches around the walls. She sighed and headed for the one in the corner. She sucked in as best she could and sat down. Some horny little corner of her mind made note of how it felt as her tight belly shifted against her puffy thighs.

Sitting like this, only barely upright lest bending too far compromise her jeans, she couldn't ignore how her waistband was trying to cut her in half. She thought back to how she had done this to herself. The lovely HR manager had very explicitly pointed out the basket of the company's sugary offerings there in the middle of interview table. The woman had been insistent that she try at least one of each, gushing like any good salesperson about their rich flavors and subtle textures, occasionally even peeling one out of its wrapper and handing it to her.

How could she have done anything but eat what was offered to her? And by a beautiful woman, no less. She knew how her body reacted to food like this, but she had been desperate to make a good impression, to look good and eager and employable. A good girl. She ignored that last thought, and the accompanying shiver through her frazzled tummy.

She closed her eyes and tried to steady herself. Breathe in through the nose and out through the mouth (but not too deeply). All she had to do was calm down, and give her body a chance to do the same. Then she could find a back door to sneak out of, go home and hope that somehow that she hadn't blown the interview.

She opened her eyes again and caught sight of herself in a mirror across the room. Holy crap, she was huge. She had been her normal, narrow self, and her outfit had fit very very normally, when she had arrived. But now? Now it looked positively painted onto her. Her breasts were trying to spill out of her tastefully exposed bra and over the lapel of her blouse. She was more balloon than woman at this point. She ignored another tingle.

As she watched herself in the mirror, she noticed something change. Slowly but surely, the last wrinkle in her blouse smoothed out. Uh oh. That meant... she was still filling out. Panic. She tingled again.

No. No. Calm. Breathe (but not too deep). She closed her eyes again, and could feel her plump body quietly grow. Crap.

Panic. Calm. Breathe (but not too deep). Calm.

Maybe if she didn't look, it would go away. That had never worked before, sure, but there's a first time for everything, right?

As she rationalized to herself, she noticed the sound of heels clacking towards her hiding spot. Panic!

Maybe their owner would pass and not notice her?

No such luck.

The woman who had interviewed her rounded the corner.

"There you are!"

She struggled to stand. So tight.

"You left your purse upstairs. I get it, though. Interviews can be pretty stressful, huh?"

Like nothing had changed. Did this woman not notice that she was currently three times the size she was when she had shown up? Could this woman not hear every seam in her clothes creaking in harmony? Could the woman not see how wide and deep and round she was becoming?

"It's such a beautiful handbag, I almost wanted to keep it for myself!" The woman laughed. "Oh well."

She took the bag from the woman. "O-oh! Thank you!" Leapt out of her.

"Listen," said the woman, "technically I have to review a few other candidates, but I think you're a shoo-in for the position." The woman moved closer. "No one else has shown so much... enthusiasm." Closer still. She basked in the smell of the woman's musky perfume.

"Oh... that's great!" she managed to squeak out.

"In fact," the woman continued, "if you'd like to come back upstairs, we can have you fill out the onboarding paperwork now, so you don't have to come back just to fill out some forms if... when we give you the job." So close now.

"Um! Okay!" What.

The woman placed a gentle hand on the side of her massive, tight, growing belly. "Listen, between you and me, that passion you showed today will take you far with us. Do you feel like the offer is fair? We can negotiate further if you need." The woman's eyes were so sincere.

What was going on here? She could barely think.

The woman placed her other hand on top of her belly, well hidden by her burgeoning breasts. "I do hope you'll say yes."

"Um..."

There was a pop. Her button pinged away across the room from her overburdened jeans. It made a little thwack sound as it hit the far wall. Her zipper flew down, zizzing audibly. Her belly erupted through the breach. Her blouse retreated upwards. The tingling became a roar. All the while, the woman, as though no tectonic shifts were happening right there and then, continued to implore with borderline puppydog eyes.

The world held its breath with her. How had this woman not reacted to any of that?! What? Was the woman still waiting for an answer?

"...okay?" She tried. She wasn't sure if her brain was still working. "Sure?" Best to stick to small sentences.

"Yay!" cheered the woman, "I really think you'll love it here!" The woman launched in for a quick hug around her exposed belly. The woman's arms didn't go even halfway around her. And still the woman didn't seem to notice that anything was wrong.

"Well! If you'll follow me back to the elevators, we can at least get the formalities out of the way."

The woman took her by the hand and pulled, still gentle. She followed, mutely. Even the horniest, shamiest corners of her mind were silent, waiting with bated breath.

As they reached the elevators, the woman pushed the up button and stood to the side. "Please," said the woman, "after you!"

On autopilot now, she stepped into the elevator and... wedged into the door. Stuck. What. Panic? Calm? The elevator dinged again as if to say "I'm waiting!"

The cold of the elevator doors brought her back to reality. She put a hand on either side of herself and tried to pull herself in. As though this were somehow normal, the woman chirped "Oh, here, let me help!"

She felt a gentle pair of hands press into her oceanic bottom. Her horny brain thrilled again. She clamped down on those thoughts. No time to be a pervert.

Between the two of them, they muscled her into the elevator. She turned to face the doors in time to watch the woman press into her in order to let the doors close. Normally equipped for eight full-sized human adults, due to her immensity, it very barely fit two.

"We need floor thirty," said the woman into her barely contained cleavage. She tried to reach for the panel of buttons, but by now there was simply too much of her in the way.

"I've got it," said the woman, reaching behind her without looking.

They rode the thirty floors quietly. She could feel herself still widening, pressing towards the walls of the elevator car. Her embarrassment had burnt out, leaving only a kind of stunned peace in her mind. She tried to will her body away from the woman, but where else could it really go?

By the time they reached their destination, the woman was firmly pressed against the doors, still showing no indication of the extra-ordinariness of the situation.

As the doors opened, the woman stepped back, grabbed her hands, and pulled as she tried to wiggle through the door. Eventually she floomped through, and they set off toward the HR suite.

Full-on waddling now, she felt an inner tension release. She had stopped growing. Relief. If nothing else, at least things had stopped getting worse. Sure, she was almost round enough to roll. Tingle. Sure, her clothing had been reduced to barely covering her... rude areas. Tingle. Sure, a beautiful woman was acting as though this was all perfectly normal. Tingle tingle tingle. But hey, at least it finally wasn't getting worse.

The woman pushed open the double doors to the HR suite and welcomed her in with another glittering smile. They seemed to be the only ones there. The woman led her, patiently, to the front desk area. The woman ducked behind the desk, looking for something.

"Hmm, it looks like I'll need to go print off more some more copies of the forms. Shouldn't take more than a minute or two." Finally she'd have a moment to collect herself.

Then the woman produced a basket, laden with various goodies, from underneath the desk. "Here! Help yourself, sorry to make you wait." Uh.

"Oh, here, allow me," said the woman, picking out a chocolate confection, peeling it, and pressing it into her mouth. "I'll be right back!"

She chewed and swallowed the treat.

Uh oh.

[icewindandboringhorror]

... why he sit like this

[jalo-parker]

Eepy deepy (keeping this one up even though I definitely no longer support wilbur)

This is going to be a series of 4 drawings btw

[cuteniaarts]

Small drawing collection of my latest creation Emran as a teenager/freshly minted Air Acolyte, for my dear partner in unhinged OC shenanigans @katkastrofa, as promised <3

[mossiestpiglet]

once again stressed as hell because i have the opportunity to apply for a job and i feel like i HAVE to take it despite the fact that i really dont want it and also feel like it wouldnt necessarily even be the best move in terms of career… but like. Fatal American Desire To Seize Every Financial Opportunity At The Expense Of My Own Well-being.

[kyouka-supremacy]

Mmmhh...

[aurosoulart]

some sketches of my dumbass OC I’ve been playing in a Delta Green campaign - his name is Rennan and he may or may not be under the influence of a certain play involving the color yellow

[cowardlychimera]

ughh just got some Very Bad news so quick update now because I'm going to be Super Busy very soon: I've been gone super long because 1 family member I was living with passed away, 2 after dealing with that I had to move states and moved in with another family member and their partner, 3 I've had to move around a lot my whole life and I don't handle it well at all so it took me a while to start getting comfortable, 4 my physical and mental health have been steadily getting worse

now! new news!!! I now have to move out right when I was starting to get used to things!!!! aaaaaa!!!!!!!!!

(PS I saw everyone's comments ty :3 <3)

[redhotarsenic]

I dunno I’m trying very hard to not be a sad shithead online but it’s getting increasingly difficult

[13eyond13]

.

[pandoratheprocrasticreator]

Idky but I feel like Alador never remembers his kids birthdays and when he does, he gives them an invention which is more to give free publicity to his work than anything meaningful or related to their interests

lmao yeah. like even after the show when he's tentatively making up with his family he just. doesn't realize that it's something they care about. or if he does he doesnt realize it's something that HE should care about because his kids care about it. i do think the ppl of the boiling isles wouldn't allow him within 100 ft of an abomination business for a while after the show bc of All That so if he does make an invention for his kids birthdays, it would just be stuff that HE's interested in. amity seems to be his favorite based on extrapolation from the show and she's already interested in abominations so maybe she'll get something she likes by coincidence but tough luck for the twins.

(i had a scrapped fic idea that involved a comical exchange between emira and alador, where emira points out that he still sucks as a father. em asks alador if he knows when her birthday is, and alador gets the date wrong by like two months. em then asks alador when her brother's birthday is, and when alador has to take a minute to think about it, emira reminds him that she and ed are twins before storming out of the room.)

[orcelito]

i miss akechi goro so much. maybe even enough to finally finish that ladue chapter 3

[italictext]

Hurray!! My sister came out to my mum as bi/pan and told ma she had a girlfriend and it went well! She's not 100% supportive but we'll get there

[rubberbandballqueen]

favorite part of work today was when i told the kids to get into two lines, n this one guy was like "i don't want to" n then started talking to his buddy in mandarin, n so then in chinese i was like, "hey, come here."

n he n his buddy looked at each other n then looked at me with like that faintly displeased expression that means they've realized they can't get away with not being that good at english (or feel terribly isolated from n indifferent to the adults bc they don't speak their language) anymore

and then when i told them to line up in mandarin they groaned abt it for sure but they did drag themselves into a line