#thanks tj :')

[hifuu-yuri-club]

wasn't prepared to be hit with some hard hitting questions at 5:30am

[valeriianz]

A Sweet Romance Beginning In a Queue

a moodboard for one of my favorite Dream x Hob fics by @tj-dragonblade :) this fic is so soft and cozy and easy... i find myself rereading it a lot. so i wanted to make something for it ♥ click the title for the ao3 link!

[mariaashby64]

GUYS GUYS GUYS

ACE KELLY, ACE KELLY, ACE KELLY.

This genuinely made me so happy. I had hopes when I read the first book but I've been burned by the "late bloomer/haven't found the right person" trope before, so I didn't want to get them too high up.

He's one of my fave characters too, and he's written so well here. Genuine joy. What a gift for pride month.

[oldbutchdaniel]

we’ve all been there dot jpeg

[cuubism]

Ooh, 80s Dreamling?

A human AU where I, extremely compelled by the visual contrast of 80s Dreamling, attempt to answer the question, "how the hell would these two people even meet" 😂 I'm so close to finishing this. Stockbroker Hob x Musician Dream

--

“What is it?” Hob asks, then decides he doesn’t care, and takes a pill, chasing it with the watery last drops of his drink, which is a terrible idea, but then, he’s full of them. “Ecstasy,” says Morpheus. Well, that’ll be some kind of fun, Hob thinks. Morpheus takes it back from him and takes a pill himself. “It occasionally makes me feel less like I am going to hurl myself from the balcony.” He doesn’t seem to be joking. “Good for something, then,” Hob says. “Why do you want to jump off the balcony?” He still has his hand in Morpheus’s hair. He honestly can’t believe he hasn’t propositioned him yet. That’s not like him. These parties are usually only good for quick, casual sex. He even thinks Morpheus would probably agree, and yet. “The state of things,” says Morpheus. He has such a deep, solemn voice. Hob wants to touch his mouth, or throat maybe. Okay, this is already not going so well. “And the state of my heart.” Hob pets his hair again. Morpheus leans into the touch. “Writing songs about yearning and angst and stuff isn’t fixing it?” He can well enough guess what Morpheus’s music is probably like. “No,” says Morpheus. He seems to really think about it. “I think it is making things worse. Perhaps I will try manipulating the financial markets instead. Is that giving you existential fulfillment?”

[kvtnisseverdeen]

TJ MIKELOGAN'S HALLOWEEN 2023 EVENT

↳ day nineteen: an animated halloween movie or show

it’s the great pumpkin, charlie brown (1966)

[snzluv3r]

my girlfriend got me a lego bouquet for my birthday so i could have flowers that i’m not allergic to 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺melting

[tj-crochets]

Hey y'all! Work's been more stressful than usual (I'm covering for a coworker's vacation) and I'd love to hear some funny work stories if y'all have any you'd like to share. I'll start it off with some of the weirdest contractor interactions I've ever had: - the contractor who never went anywhere without his cat carrier full of live ferrets - the contractor who, every single time he called me, said "aren't you proud of me? You're proud of me, right? I'm your best contractor?" (he was not) - another time I was covering for a coworker and so handling paperwork for contractors I usually don't work with, and one of them spent a long time on the phone trying to persuade me to move into his cabin in the woods. His methods of persuasion were twofold: he explained how cool his truck is in intense detail (I do not care about trucks) and he bragged about how many laws he was breaking while contracting with the company I work for. I, of course, told my boss, because a lot of the laws he was breaking were basic safety things???? But him trying to brag about breaking laws to the person who handles the paperwork he just admitted to falsifying was hilarious to me

[helyeahmangocheese]

I can't stop thinking about how ideas of the afterlife have given people hope to see loved ones, given people peace in the face of death, for forever. but the einherjar don't get the guarantee that they will ever see anyone they ever loved, living or presently dead, ever again. I wonder how many of them think of it as a punishment. no wonder some of them fade away

[pettyprocrastination]

in my convoluted brain au this woman 

is none other than the mother of

[tj-dragonblade]

hello hello, how about #6 for the spotify wrapped 👀

6 - Arwen's Vigil by The Piano Guys This is an instrumental piece evoking steadfast hope and sweeping passions, and I think it calls for a Knight!Hob AU. Visually, Hob will be a tidied-up version of 1389 and Dream will have Tom's Hollow Crown look.

(Synopsis bled into scene-drafting oops)

Dream, the ruler of wherever, has sent his best men on a dangerous quest of some sort. Including his unspoken favorite, his most faithful, the man who holds his heart, the man who will never know it. Dream cannot abuse his station; he is the king; Hob is his knight. They cannot be together. But nothing can stop him holding vigil each night as he waits for news, his thoughts circling on Hob, praying for his safe return.

The news when it comes is bittersweet; the quest was successful but at great price. Only three of the ten men remain to return home; the message does not tell who. Dream paces endlessly, frets endlessly, heart perpetually in his throat as he grapples with the not-knowing, the fear that his Hob has perished.

When the men return they are only two; the third fell to bandits on the road and the second is gravely injured. The first, Dream sees with a relief that threatens to overwhelm him, is his Hob.

The injured man is seen to, rushed to the medics; Hob is tired and dirty but unharmed, and Dream calls for a bath to be drawn in his private quarters. He will tend to Hob himself, with the viable excuse of debriefing him re: the quest.

So before long we wind up with Hob dozing quietly in the warm bath in Dream's quarters, Dream watching over him, letting him doze and making sure he doesn't slip underwater, keeping the fire roaring, etc. Ooh, ooh, there should be a hair washing scene first, Dream washing Hob's chest and shoulders and beard for him, gentle and intimate and Hob protesting his king serving him this way and Dream shushing him with something like 'My noble steadfast Hob, my most loyal and enduring friend (dangerous, so daring to admit aloud he considers him thus), let me take care of you for once' and so Hob quiets, and lets him, and Dream moves on to the proper hair washing and by the time he's finished Hob is drifting asleep.

So Dream lets him sleep, keeps watch, tends the fire etc, and after a bit he's sitting on a chair by the tub lost in thought when there's a wet touch to his hand and he looks up to find Hob's warm brown eyes fixed steadfastly on him.

"My liege," Hob says softly, gaze unwavering, and brings Dream's hand to his lips, lets them graze over the knuckles.

Dream sucks in a breath, shaken, filled with such ardent longing that he fears to speak, lest he give himself away. But Hob is still speaking.

"I have faced death many times, but none more certainly than this last."

"Hob—"

"And I'm alright with that." He sits up, leans forward, still holding Dream's hand. "I will go where you send me; I will serve you to my last breath and die gladly if it means you're safe. But having faced that possibility so starkly—" he turns Dream's hand, presses his lips soft to the cup of Dream's palm "—I have realized. There are things I do not wish to take to my grave." He arches Dream's hand back gently, places a softly-heartfelt kiss to the inside of his wrist, lifts his eyes back to Dream's.

"My lord Dream. It is not simply my sword and my service which are pledged to you, but my heart as well."

Dream cannot help the gasp that escapes him; neither can he manage words, which is just as well as Hob is still speaking.

"I know we can never be, and I do not expect any return of my feelings. I am happy to love you silently from afar, as I always have. This—" his lips brush the pulse beating furiously in Dream's wrist "—is more than enough, your care and consideration of me here, they are more than enough. If I am to die in some future endeavor, then I will die at peace knowing you are aware that you were loved by me. And that is enough."

"You dare." Dream finds his voice at last, though it trembles terribly. "You. Dare. To speak so carelessly of dying, when I have spent days sick with worry of your welfare, when I have not slept for fear I had lost you this time, when I have only just had those fears assuaged by your return—"

Hob is quite taken aback, but still he holds Dream's hand. "My liege—"

"Dream." The tremor in his voice matches the wavering of tears filling his vision, the way his fingers tremble in Hob's gentle hold. "You will call me Dream when it is only you and I, and you will not greet death so cavalierly should it come for you. You will exercise every caution, you will fight with your all to return to me, for I could not bear to lose you, not now, when you tell me that the heart I so long for is pledged to me in truth, I could not bear it—"

He is cut off by the soft touch of Hob's fingers to his lips, wet and wrinkled from the bath water, beseeching his silence. He meets Hob's eyes, tears spilling over soundlessly, and finds Hob's gaze wide, wondering, warm and hopeful and dark enough to drown in; when Hob's fingertips move gently from his lips to touch his tears, to reverently stroke a single droplet away, Dream shivers. And when Hob releases his hand, moves closer, when both of Hob's hands are gently framing his face, when Hob is gazing up at him with naked adoration, Dream knows he is lost. He does not fight the way Hob leans up and draws him down; he cannot fight his own desires any longer and he cannot deny this man any wish.

The kiss is tentative, soft, Hob's lips sliding across his, between, pressing gently until Dream gasps—

And Hob draws back, eyes searching Dream's, seeking permission, confirmation that his forwardness is welcome, and Dream can think of no better assurance than to kiss him again.

He lunges forward, mouth finding Hob's unerringly, and it is Hob this time who gasps, whereupon Dream brings his tongue into the kiss and then Hob moans. Dream touches him, as he has longed to do for years, strokes through his wet beard and wet hair, touches the wet curves of his shoulders and the glorious mat of wet hair on his chest, heedless of the drag of his own sleeves in the bathwater.

"My lord Dream—" Hob barely pulls away, lips brushing Dream's as he speaks.

"Not here," Dream interrupts. "Never here, think me not your lord when we are alone, I beg—let me be just a man, let me be but the one who would hold your heart dear and trust that you hold mine the same—"

"Dream," Hob says then, tremulous, wondering, and the blossoming familiarity of Dream's unadorned name on Hob's lips has him swooning back into a kiss.

It quickly grows desperately impassioned, fierce and frantic as emotions rise and inhibitions fall in their wake. Hob flounders about in the tub and stands, bringing Dream up with him, pulling Dream to him and picking him up, cradling Dream bridal-style as he steps out of the tub, naked and streaming wet and still kissing his king. Dream clings around his neck, lost in the ardent warmth of Hob's mouth, uncaring of how Hob's wet hirsute body makes an absolute ruin of his clothing.

He will not be wearing it much longer, regardless.

So I guess this will be going in the wip pile but there is no telling if or when I'll get back to it. The rest will just be smut; Hob carries Dream over to the furs spread on the stone floor in front of the fire, lays him down, strips him bare of his wet robes with reverence, tenderly fingers him open and then makes love to him over and over, ardent and adoring and attentive until tears of joy and pleasure are streaming from Dream's eyes, until his heart and body sing with the love Hob bears him, the love he bears Hob in turn. Or something equally purple-prosed and sappy. This will be smut to rot your teeth on I assure you.

Inevitably this art and the third one here ended up rotating in my mind even if they don't quite apply to what I scribbled down - they convey the same kind of mood.

Spotify Wrapped Askmeme Post

[valeriianz]

For the fic writer asks:

4. Obviously you did research for BitB. I'd love you to ramble about it if you like I'm sure you've got STORIES

5. Did you outline it?

7. How'd you decide it would be Hob's pov?

25-27 I'd love to know a/some favorite lines, details, and any lore you might want to share

omg TJ what wonderful questions! thank you!! this is going to get LONG!

4: Rambling about research!

do you wanna see a screen shot of my bookmarks under my "band au" folder?

man, and that's only what could fit on the screen.

there is... SO MUCH i chose to ignore for this fic. ideas that i had to drop, lines or extra details about the other band members equipment. more logistics, what Lucienne actually does, what Mervyn has to put up with as the new touring stage manager... i realized very early on that i couldn't possibly cram all this (super cool and eye opening) information into the fic and still keep reader's interest and, most importantly, to not stray away from the fact that this is a dreamling fic. whenever i felt myself getting carried away with a side character or job or even social media numbers, gossip, outside POVs, i had to reign myself in and get back on track. there will be time for exploring everything i missed in side stories after BitB is finished. i just hope i still have the energy to write it all.

once, i was so deep into research that after publishing chapter 2, i went into work and when my chef asked what "GA" meant on my prep list, i answered with full confidence, "general admission."

(it means "get ahead.")

the worst part of this entire writing process is im still learning new shit. i havent rewatched or read a lot of what i've saved because, to be very honest, i was feeling a little burnt out. it's why we're kinda full steam dreamling now. it's why ive been glossing over a lot of technical stuff and being vague about conversations amongst the crew/not including it at all. i don't prefer ignoring my research, but at the end of the day i want to still enjoy writing this fic and finish it. even if i can't be as descriptive and detailed and nuanced as i used to be.

5: Did you outline the fic?

(also asked by @hardly-an-escape!)

i wouldn't call what i have a proper "outline," it's more like a 20k word document filled to the brim with notes that i skim at least a dozen times while i'm writing a new chapter (being in my brain is literally hell). i live multichapter life very dangerously. i copy and paste lines or sections (always scattered, never together! augh!) that are meant to go together and plop them in a new document titled "band au ch.#" and then i structure the chapter around what i want to happen.

but to answer this question in the plainest of terms: yeah. i know exactly what's going to happen up until the very end. even if its all in my head and the only concrete shit that's written down are beats/plot points. i'll figure out the rest later!

7: How'd you decide it would be Hob's POV?

i actually never even considered writing it from Dream's POV. this was my first fic in the fandom (which is so nuts to think about lol) and writing in Dream's POV sounded so scary lol. i also just thought Hob's would be easier because i have worked a few backstage shows, back in my college years. i figured eh, i can make this work. and i loved exploring how weird and mysterious musicians can be, from a normie's POV. making Hob a fan first and having him worry about developing a parasocial relationship... it was fun to explore.

25: Share your favorite line

oh god, i have so many haha.

“What are you thinking about?” starting in ch.2 and onward lmao

“It’s–” Dream laughs quietly, bitterly. “I don’t like change.” He says each word with emphasis, eyes trailing down to fixate somewhere past Hob. “And I still hold onto the things I can control, like my instruments–” his eyes swing up to regard Hob apologetically. “Or my clothes or my–” he brings a hand up and wiggles his fingers around his head. “My hair.” ch.4

"His majesty is pleased." ch.5

“You are obsessive,” he states, slow and cool and with a quiet smile cracking through his composure. “Just like me.” ch.7

“You look good.” Hob has to lean in to say so, unwilling to raise his voice amongst the roar of the fans. ch.11

“Del looks like porcelain, but she’s actually made of steel.” Desire swirls the contents of their glass before pushing their shoulders back with a deep breath. “She's tougher than all of us.” ch.11

“Everything. I want…” his fingers tighten in Hob’s hair, pulling him closer, speaking against his lips. “…Everything.” ch.14

26: Share your favorite detail

how intentionally coy Dream behaves. i love keeping him a mystery and deciding when and how much to allow his intentions to peek through has been so fun lol.

Despair is in fact covered in tattoos and piercings! i say this because i feel like sometimes i forget lmao. (but also her and Hob don't interact much so. my bad haha).

Delirium's constant explosion of color in the way she dresses <3

Hob's dedication to his job, Dream, and the people he cares about the most. i don't care if people think i'm making him too soft and good, im gonna project on that man and make him a sweet, sweet simp lmao

and ah, this doesn't matter anymore, and i kinda regret doing it but. i originally had Dream's favorite bass all black but the pickguard was white. so it actually looked like Jessamy. not gonna lie when @designtheendless drew it all black i decided i liked it better that way. and truly i do. that's when i went back to ch.1 and changed it haha. to actually see the guitar with Dream, all done up sparkling black and purple flecks... gosh it's just so him. but then i got up to the reveal that the guitar's name was Jessamy and i was like, "oh, right." lmao. no one seems to care so i'll leave it be.

27: Share a piece of lore you made up for the story

i have a lot lmao. and this post is already so long... im hoping i can get to some if not all of it in side fics in the future. but for now, here's some that's more like headcanons but:

Dream hates flying. he can full on go into panic attacks on the plane if he allows himself to get into his own head.

this was mentioned briefly in ch.4, while Dream was discussing the formation of the band, but Despair was in another band before joining Endless. she is the only character in the fic who gets to keep her English roots (lol sorry) and is the oldest in the band (30).

all of the band members ages: Dream, Desire, and Death are all 28 and Delirium is 22.

Dream can experience subdrop after going too hard during a performance.

Dream paints his own nails, it's very therapeutic.

as an exercise, i explored my own headcanons for Dream in this verse in a word doc, and one thing i will share from it that you might find interesting: If I were to ever give Dream a theological values, I would describe him as a satanist. He is a physical and pragmatic person, nonconforming, and although he is introverted, he enjoys being a part of a community (he loves his band).

also found this in my notes: How Desire and Dream got along was Death making them fight it out. Hob raises an eyebrow “like in a brawl?” He couldn't imagine Desire throwing hands. “No, in a pillow fight that escalated in hair pulling and verbal taunts.”

fic writer asks

[2ndstringloser]

sorry colleen ballenger but you’ll never write an apology song as iconic as tj kippen

[techramonic]

ok #1 tj lane hater. I do recall seeing a mugshot of him and someone pointed out that his nose looked kinda crooked in the manner that someone probably broke his nose (in jail)

yeah you're right, i can see from his latest mugshot that it does look a bit crooked. it's also likely since he was corrected at least 7 times before he tried to escape his confinement in 2014. his offenses include him urinating on a wall and being rude to the ppl there, so no wonder why ppl would hate on him. also, there's this funny interview with an old inmate of his named Steve Bringer. He said "all the fags were after him." explaining that a lot of the gay prisoners thought he was attractive. idk, that's just hilarious to me. I think abt it a lot

[artemistorm]

You still sharing WIP Wednesday snippets? If so then how about the Phantom Pains (Wild) one?

Hello! Phantom Pains is a story that Wild was temp killed in battle the day before but was resurrected by a fairy breaking out of it's bottle in his bag (none of the other Links knew he died). Then in the following days, he deals with phantom pains from the fatal wound and tries to hide it but the others catch on.

“We just want to make sure you’re okay,” Sky pleaded. “I’m not letting this go until you give me some solid proof you’re actually fine,” Legend crossed his arms. Wild sighed. “Fine. Go ahead. I don’t have anything to hide.” Hyrule put his hand on Wild’s back and closed his eyes and concentrated. “You’re not hurt,” Hyrule said. “But you were.” He opened his eyes and let his hands fall away. “There’s magic holding you together.” “Right here.” Hyrule placed a hand over Wild’s heart. “What’re you not telling us Wild?” Twilight dug. Welp. There was no more hiding it. “I died.” Wild answered simply. “Yeah we know—” Wind started. “Yesterday,” Wild interrupted.

[eddiesxangel]

Eddie Headcannon-

Eddie love to watch his Sweetheart get ready in the morning/get ready for bed.

Eddie stands behind you with his arms wrapped around your waist as you lean closer to the mirror to apply your makeup. He watches as you prep your skin , apply moisturizer, use different brushes and blenders on your face, his tongue either poking out in concentration or lips pursed together even though he is only a spectator during this process.

You take out your mascara and sweep your lashes with the brush ." Careful Princess."

You laugh." Afraid I'm going to poke myself in the eye?"

"Fucking terrified."

If you take out the eyelash curler he cringes." What the fuck kind of torture device is that?"

You giggle." It curls your lashes Baby. Want me to try it on you?" You curl your lash and he gasps dramatically.

" I think the fuck not. Have you ever pinched your eye lid in there?"

"Once-"

"Fuck Princess." He shivers.

You run liner along your upper and lower lids and he holds his breath. Again you smile." Breathe Baby, I promise it's going to be ok."

" Why do you wear makeup Darlin?"

"It makes me feel more confident in myself."

"You do realize that you are absolutely, positively the most beautiful human being in the world without all that right?"

You smile at the most beautiful human being in the world standing behind you." You are so fucking sweet Edward Munson. "

" It's true. " He leans in and kisses your neck." With or without your fucking perfect "

At the end of the night he watches as you wash the makeup off your face, he will sometimes take the cloth from your hand and carefully wipe around your eyes, biting his lip as he does so. He watches you cleanse, and moisturize again, breathing in the light soft scent of your lotion. He is happy, happy to be a part of this process and happy to have his beautiful fresh faced girl back❤️