#this part is pure fluff

[resident-gay-bitch]

"that's not how you do it." steve said, his tone a little bitchy as he looked at the curly haired boy sitting on the floor in the doctors waiting room across from him.

"what do you mean that's not how you do it?" the boy said with a shriek, holding the ken and gi joe dolls in his hands out aggressively, "they're dolls! they have no rules, idiot."

"don't call me that, i'm not an idiot. i'll tell my mum on you." steve poked his tongue out.

"dibber dobber." the boy poked his tongue right back out, "plus, i don't think you know much about playing with toys because you're stacking jenga wrong."

"i'm building a house with it." steve said simply, stacking another block onto it.

"it's a shit house." the boy said, going back to his dolls.

steve gasped, "you can't say that!"

"my dad says it all the time." he shrugged, "you know, if you can build a really bad jenga house, then i think i can play with the dolls however i want."

"no." steve said, "plus, it's not a bad house!"

"it has no structural inter-egg-raty."

steve scrunched up his nose, "i don't think that's how you say that word."

"i don't care." the boy said, swinging his ken doll out to knock over steves house.

"hey!" steve gasped, and then covered his mouth to cough, "that was so mean."

"just wanted to prove my point." the boy said, "plus, if you think i'm playing dolls so wrong, then you should teach me how to do them right."

steve rolled his eyes and huffed, "fine." he crawled over to the curly haired boy, who was grinning very widely.

"so, are you joe or ken?" the boy said, holding up the dolls.

"neither." steve scoffed, "if you want to make your dolls kiss, it has to be a boy and a girl."

"nuh ahhhh." the boy shook his head out.

"yes." steve huffed, and grabbed a mangled barbie doll out of the toy box to play with, "look... barbie and ken go together. ken and gi joe aren't even close!"

"they're secret boyfriends." the boy shrugged.

"two boys can't kiss." steve glared at him, like he was dumb, and he was.

"yes they can." the boy shrugged.

"no." steve shook his head, "my dad says it's super bad and evil and will make you really sick... is that why you're here?"

the boy laughed brightly, "oh my goodness..." he wiped a tear from his eye, "are you joking me?"

steve shook his head, "no. of course not, stupid."

the boy calmed his laugh a little and smiled, "boys totally can kiss! it isn't bad or evil and it won't make you sick, i promise!" he held out the ken doll to steve, "i haven't kissed anyone... i'm only nine, you know? and i'm here because my mum is sick. why are you here?"

"i haven't kissed anyone either. i'm eight! and... i have a cough." steve shrugged, and then coughed, "mum said it has to go away before my dads work function tomorrow night, because i have to meet his work friends."

"boring." the boy blew a raspberry.

"i really don't think boys can kiss."

"boy's can kiss, just... stupid people just think its bad for some dumb reason."

"hmm." steve shrugged and held the ken doll up, "it looks stupid."

"all kissing looks stupid." the silly boy said, deadpan, "just... i think adults like it because it... is like a super hug or something."

"oh." steve shrugged, "a super hug?"

"yeah..." he said, "it's like... you kiss your family on the cheeks because it's super hugs because you love them."

"right." steve nodded.

"and then... when you think someone is pretty, you kiss them on the mouth because... they're pretty."

"so, why would ken want to kiss gi joe?" steve asked, fiddling with the dolls, "i get why joe wants to kiss ken... but..."

"don't be fooled by his buzzcut." the boy grinned and pulled up the doll's shirt to reveal plastic abs, "i think ken likes muscly men."

"okay." steve shrugged and held up his doll to play, "so... how do we make boys kiss?"

"the same as we make girls kiss." the boy shrugged and cleared his throat, putting on a manly voice as he pretended to be the doll, "oh, hello ken... you look very pretty today. blue is really your colour!"

steve shrugged and put on a ken voice, "thanks gi joe. you look super muscly! can i kiss you?"

"of course, handsome!" the boy giggled and moved his doll in to kiss steves, they made them make out for a while, with lots of kissing noises, "oh, this is the best kiss i've ever had!"

"can two boys be in love too?" steve asked, and the boy nodded with a bright smile, then steve turned the voice on again, "i think i love you joe!"

"oh my goodness!" the boy grinned, "i think i love you too! you are the prettiest boy i've ever seen."

steve giggled and made his doll kiss attack the boys, and then they were both giggling and smushing their dolls together.

once the laughter died down, they just kind of looked at each other for a moment, and steve decided to speak first, "i didn't know boys could kiss."

the boy shrugged, "don't tell your dad about it. he'll probably get mad... it can be our secret."

"okay." steve smiled, a slight blush in his cheeks, "i'm steve, by the way."

"oh... i'm eddie." eddie smiled brightly and held out his hand for steve to shake.

"you have really crazy hair, eddie." steve said.

"i know." he said with a frown, "dad says i have to cut it."

"don't... it's so cool!" steve promised.

eddie seemed to blush at that, "thanks..." he shrugged, "i think you're the prettiest boy i've ever seen, you know?"

steve blushed a lot at that, "do you think?"

eddie nodded, "yeah."

"oh." steve swallowed, he thought this boy was very pretty too, and even though he knocked over steves jenga house, he really liked him, "would you like to kiss me?"

eddie blushed even brighter, "i think so..."

steve swallowed, "i have a cough."

eddie frowned, "i don't mind... if you would like to."

steve smiled, because he would like to, "are you sure?"

eddie nodded.

"okay." steve shuffled a little closer to eddie on his knees, and the curly haired boy turned completely red, "i don't know how to kiss someone."

"me either." eddie said, "i think we just... put our mouths together."

"that sounds right." steve shrugged and started to move forward.

"steven!" his mothers voice rang from the waiting room, "steven, where are you? the doctor is ready to see you."

steve looked around the toy corner to see his mother walking into the doorway, and steve huffed, "i have to go."

"oh... okay." eddie swallowed.

steve smiled, "can i play with you at school?"

eddie frowned, "i don't go to school here. me and mum are just visiting my uncle."

"oh." steve sighed, "will you ever be back?"

"probably." eddie shrugged.

steve smiled, "okay."

"come on, steven. you don't want to keep him waiting." his mother tapped her foot.

"coming." steve said, looking back at her with a smile.

she turned and grabbed her things.

"well..." steve shrugged, "if i see you ever again, then i owe you your first kiss."

"okay." eddie squeaked, still red as a tomato as steve hopped up and ran for his mother, "bye, steve!"

"bye, eddie!" steve shouted, "hope to see you soon!"

★ ☆ ★

Part 2 hereee

[five-and-dimes]

Smile Like You Mean It

Hob wants nothing more than to make his boyfriend laugh. Dream very much does not want to scare away his boyfriend with his laugh. They work through it together.

Read on AO3

Hob Gadling did not have a single ‘life goal’. His life was simply too long for that. No, he merely had current goals; the objective that caught his attention the most at any given moment which he dedicated himself to with the single mindedness of a man who couldn’t die until he succeeded.

And his current goal?

Making Dream of the Endless laugh.

He had certainly come a long way in six hundred years. Or, maybe it was Dream who had come a long way. Since reuniting, his stranger, his friend, was more open with his expressions. Still stoic and poised, for certain, but more willing to grace Hob with small smiles and gentle eyes. The first few months had been a little rough. Dream was clearly trying his best at the whole friendship thing, finally telling Hob his name and agreeing to visit more often, but there were still some growing pains. Hob was reluctant to push for fear of chasing his friend away again, and Dream didn’t seem to know what was expected of him.

(Eventually, Dream had quietly confessed where exactly he had been during their last meeting, reassuring Hob that he had not stayed away intentionally and promising not to run away again. Hob, through his tears- because if Dream would not cry then Hob would damn well cry for him- had put that statement to the test almost immediately, pulling the Endless forward to kiss him softly.

(Dream kept his word. He didn’t run away.)

(He kissed back.)

Now, as they fell more easily into a comfortable rhythm of friendship and more, Hob found himself focusing his attention on coaxing any expression of joy from Dream’s impassive face. Every day he smiled a little easier, like rays of sunshine peeking through the clouds, and Hob couldn’t get enough.

Today, they are sitting in a quiet corner of the New Inn. Hob has learned that jokes and puns don’t get him far, but Dream always loves a good story, and so he is currently regaling Dream with the tale of the time he made the mistake of starting a new life as his own nephew instead of son.

“I just figured I’d mix it up a little,” he groaned, “If anything I thought it would be more suspicious to constantly be claiming to be my own son. How was I supposed to know Helen’s mother still had a picture of us?”

Dream is watching him with rapt attention, as if he will be quizzed on his words later. His drink is untouched as always, and he gives a quiet hum, which Hob has learned is Dream-speak for ‘please tell me more’.

“So Helen comes to me, with this faded picture she found in her attic of my ‘uncle’ who is the spitting image of me, wringing her hands and near tears, explaining to me that she thinks my mom might have had an affair,” Hob put his head in his hands as he remembers the incident, “Honestly, I should have just gone along with it, but I’m bloody awful at fake crying, so of course, what do I blurt out?” He looks up at Dream, putting on a faux surprised face as he reenacts himself, “‘Oh, did I not mention my dad and uncle were twins?’”

Finally, Dream’s blank expression cracks. His eyes crinkle just slightly, and he lets out a soft huff of breath through a smile, the closest to a laugh that Hob ever manages.

And Hob loves it, to be sure, but he can’t help but grin and quip nonchalantly, "One of these days I'm gonna get a proper laugh out of you, just you wait."

The change is immediate.

Dream's face falls so fast it gives Hob whiplash, and his entire body stiffens in his seat, hands clenched in fists on the table. He looks away, so Hob can't quite figure out what emotions are swimming there.

"I do not recommend that."

Hob furrowed his brows in confusion, "And why would that be?"

Across from him, Dream shifted uncomfortably, looking almost… guilty? Before the Endless finally responded, "I have been told my laugh is. Unattractive."

And that has Hob's eyebrows shooting into his hairline, "Wait, really?" Dream nods solemnly, and the grave look on his face has Hob bursting into surprised laughter, "Oh, oh now that's something! Now I really have to hear it!"

When his laughter dies down, he expects Dream to be pouting, perhaps huffing regally or glaring in fond annoyance, as he has taken to do when Hob teases him lightly.

Instead, he is met with a carefully blank stare. The kind that Hob has learned means that Dream is hurting and doesn't want to show it.

"Your efforts would be wasted. I have long broken myself of the habit."

And, well, that is certainly. A loaded sentence. Hob feels the smile slip from his face, as it starts to occur to him that he may have tripped into a landmine without realizing it.

"Laughing isn't a 'bad habit', mate," he responds slowly. He can’t help but tilt his head a little, looking at his friend through a new lens. Dream has always been so stoic, so reserved and guarded and reticent. It had never occurred to him that those traits may have been learned.

Dream is older than Hob- much, much older- and he is too afraid to ask how long Dream has been smothering his own joy.

"Even if you do have an ugly laugh or what have you,” he continued insistently, “that's no reason to just… never laugh again. I mean, come one, laughing is great! It’s, it’s unrestrained joy! Happiness! There’s no bad way to laugh.”

A pause stretches between them. And then, Dream shakes his head. Slowly. A single, deliberate movement from side to side, and he speaks as though reciting a fact of the universe. "Joy is. Unbecoming on me."

Hob has always worn his heart on his sleeve, and even though he somehow manages not to burst into tears at those words, he’s certain he looks as heartbroken as he feels, “Dream,” his voice is pleading, “That’s not the point. That- that’s not what joy is about!” There’s a tinge of desperation in his voice, egged on by the way he finds himself gesturing wildly in front of a being who might as well be a statue for how still he is, “It’s not about looking good, it’s about feeling good. If I had to choose between you being unfairly attractive and you being happy, I’m always going to pick your happiness.”

Part of him also wants to argue that he very much doesn’t believe that there is anything Dream could do that would make him unattractive, that Hob is compromised by his appearance 24/7 no matter what he does. But given how dense and stubborn his friend is, he worries it would be taken the wrong way. So for now, he just leans forward to lay a hand over Dream’s.

“We both know I’m more stubborn than you, so just you wait. I’m going to get a laugh out of you, and we’ll both have a right good time with it, and you’ll find that joy is in fact very becoming on you. And you know I wouldn’t lie.”

For a long moment, Dream just looks at him, blinking slowly like he’s just been handed a particularly vexing puzzle. Eventually, he responds steadily, “I am always happy with you. Even when I do not laugh.”

Huffing lightly, Hob smiles, “Well, I’m glad to hear that my friend. But you won’t dissuade me.”

“Hm. You cannot blame me for trying though.”

That startles a laugh from Hob, and he squeezes Dream’s hand fondly, “No, I suppose not.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hob figures, since he is dating the Prince of Stories, that movie nights are a pretty solid bet as far as dates go.

Flipping through the selection of movies on his laptop, he tries very, very hard not to think of the reason why Dream hasn’t experienced these particular stories, instead focusing on the excitement of getting to share them with the one he loves.

Lately, he’s been concentrating on comedies.

He had started with the older ones, suffering through adaptations of Shakespeare’s comedies so that Dream could have something familiar while adjusting to the new medium of film. Then he showed him some of the classics; Ferris Bueller’s Day Off, The Princess Bride, The Great Race, The Marx Brothers. He learned that Dream loved Clue and the idea of a story having multiple endings, but didn’t care for Monty Python’s absurdity.

And through them all, Hob got small smiles and abrupt exhales.

They laid together on the couch, Dream’s back against Hob’s front, Hob resting his arms around Dream’s chest. He barely watches the movies on the screen, so tuned into Dream, trying to ease any tension out of his frame, hoping for at least the gentle shakes of restrained laughter.

But there’s nothing.

When the credits roll, Hob stands, kissing Dream on the forehead before taking their empty wine glasses to the kitchen for a refill. Setting them on the counter, Hob allows himself a sigh of frustration. He hadn’t expected this endeavor to be quite so difficult. Tapping his fingers, he racked his brain for what else he could do to loosen up the stubborn being on his couch enough to shrug off some of his poise.

“Hob.”

Dream never made a sound when he moved, and Hob really should be used to it by now. Still, he jumped nearly a foot in the air at the sound of a voice barely a foot behind him. Whipping around, he clutched at his chest dramatically.

“God’s wounds, Dream, if I could die I think I might have!”

For a long moment, they simply stare at each other. Dream stands tall and regal, hands clasped in front of him, and blinks slowly. There is such gravity in his expression, in the way he carefully considers Hob, as if trying to disarm a bomb.

(Hob looks at him and wants to ask ‘What are you so afraid of? What’s got you so scared of me?’)

(Dream looks at him and wants to ask ‘Is this enough? Is this enough? Why can’t this be enough?’)

(Neither of them ask.)

Eventually, Dream’s eyes flutter closed, and he steps forward to press his face into the crook of Hob’s shoulder. On instinct, Hob circles him with his arms, swaying them both slightly as he buries his nose in wild black hair.

“Everything alright, Dove?”

He feels Dream nod against him, “Yes. I am happy. Here, with you.”

And he sounds happy. Something peaceful and relaxed in his tone that makes Hob’s face crack into a wide smile and squeeze him a little tighter, “Good. That’s what we’re going for, Love.”

Dream hums contentedly, nearly a purr, and Hob figures he must be doing something right.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

In all the centuries since meeting Dream of the Endless, long before he knew his name, before the lust turned to love, Hob had been convinced that he would never so much as lay a hand on his stranger’s skin. He always seemed so far above him, so unreachable, it had felt like the most painful kind of pipe dream.

So now, six hundred some odd years later, being able to kiss Dream felt like a miracle.

This, too, had taken some adjusting between them. Hob was a tactile person, and he got the feeling Dream was too, but he wasn’t used to it. For the first few weeks, Dream couldn’t help but flinch away from skin contact, and Hob couldn’t help but feel rejected by it. But as time passed, Dream began to relax into the affection, and Hob learned not to take it personally, though it still made him sad to think of how long Dream had gone without kind contact.

Similarly, going farther had taken time. Dream had expressed a want to be with Hob intimately, but taking his clothes off was a struggle. They grew together in this, too. They took it slow, learned each other’s bodies under clothes until Dream was comfortable removing that barrier so long as the lights were dimmed, so long as he didn’t feel displayed.

Now they fell together with practiced ease. They both knew how to make the space comfortable, how to make the other gasp and pant. Hob knew how to ease away the endless tension Dream carried in every part of his body, and Dream knew how to make Hob feel seen and wanted in ways he never had before.

They had both shared a couple bottles of wine, though Hob was the only one seemingly affected by it, his kisses a little more clumsy and a rosy flush over his face. They stumbled into Hob’s bedroom, Dream pulling his body on top of his own, encouraging Hob to press his weight onto him the way he liked. Hob took a moment to kick the mess of sheets onto the floor, his movements hindered by the way Dream was shoving his shirt over his head. He laughed as his arms got tangled in the sleeves, nearly tipping over before Dream’s hands reached to steady him, finally freeing himself of the fabric. He saw Dream’s lips twitching before he zeroed in on Hob’s chest, running his fingers through his thick body hair and palming at his pecs. Hob had always thought he was decent looking, but Dream had a way of bearing down on him with hungry eyes that made him feel like the most attractive man in the universe.

But he doesn’t let himself get too distracted, tugging at Dream’s shirt questioningly and then pulling it off as soon as he’s given approval. The same way Dream is minorly obsessed with Hob’s hair and muscles, so is Hob enamored with the miles of smooth, hairless skin exposed to him now. Dream sighs, his body going lax beneath him and running his fingers lovingly through his hair as Hob kisses along his collar bones.

They are both still in their jeans, but there’s no rush. Leaning back, Hob is happy to take his time admiring his love, smiling at the way Dream’s eyes have drifted closed under his gentle touches. Hob skims his fingers down Dream's sides, brushing over prominent ribs and the vulnerable space of his waist, and he feels Dream twitch, a huff of breath escaping him and at that moment, a lightbulb goes off in his brain.

Suddenly, Hob feels himself grin mischievously, because why hadn't he thought of this before?

Curling his fingers, he drags them back up Dream's skin, not pressing, just fluttering up and down the soft, white skin. Below him, Dream begins to squirm, sucking in a breath, and Hob grins wider, begins to move his fingers just a little faster because he is brilliant and then-

-and then Dream's entire body goes rigid, and cold fingers shoot out to grip Hob's wrists.

"Stop."

Dream's voice cracks with desperation and Hob feels like the scum of the earth.

Before he has a chance to pull away, to give Dream space, Dream is scrambling back, sitting up to press his back against the headboard. All the soft relaxation Hob had coaxed from him is gone, his body wracked with tension, and even cast downward he can see the anxiety and shame warring in his eyes. He keeps his shaking hands around Hob's wrists to hold him at arm's length, as if bracing for Hob to ignore his wishes.

Yeah. Hob definitely feels like scum.

"Hey," he whispers, leaning back and keeping his hands lax and unthreatening, "I'm sorry, it's okay. I won't do that again," he promises. He tilts his head to try to catch Dream's gaze, "I'm sorry."

Dream doesn't respond, but he does loosen his grip. Tentatively, Hob shifts to curl his hands around Dream's softly in return, letting his thumbs stroke the inside of his wrists soothingly. He waits patiently, letting Dream breathe, occasionally whispering soft apologies and comfort while Dream gathers himself.

After several long minutes, Dream swallows thickly, "I do not understand."

Furrowing his brow, Hob asked, "What do you mean?"

There is another pause before Dream answers slowly, his voice thick with fear and sorrow, "You have already seen. All the ugly things inside of me. That you still allow me in your presence at all is a marvel. Why, then, do you seek to see me ugly on the outside? It would be…too much. To ask for you to still want me. If I am, if nothing else, no longer appealing in that way to you."

Hob feels like his heart has been drawn and quartered. His chest goes tight, and there are so many things he wants to say, so many reasons he wants to cry, and they're all fighting for first place in his mind. For too long he simply stares, eyes wide and watery, while Dream curls in on himself, his gaze still locked on his lap.

Finally, finally, Hob gently releases Dream's hands, opening his arms and just barely managing to choke out, "Come 'ere, Love. Come here."

Dream hesitates, his eyes at last glancing up to search Hob's face. Whatever he finds there must be enough though, because he releases a shuddering breath and lets himself fall forward into Hob's arms.

Hob gathers him in his lap, settling in the center of the bed and pressing a kiss against his sharp cheekbone. He grips him tight, and after one last moment of hesitation, Dream curls his arms around Hob's back to return the embrace.

For so long, Hob has felt small compared to Dream. Immortal though he may be, he was still just a human next to an Endless. A speck next to an existence he could barely wrap his head around. Each day, Hob felt it was a marvel for Dream to want him. Not once had he ever considered that Dream might feel less than. It had never even crossed his mind that Dream might think it even a possibility that Hob wouldn't want him in whatever way he was given. As if there was anything that would make Hob give up on him.

Especially something so inconsequential.

"I love you," Hob whispers against his temple, "You. It doesn't matter what you look like, or sound like. Ugly, beautiful, plain, it doesn't matter as long as it's you. I won't stop loving you- won't stop wanting you- just because you're not, I don't know, aesthetically perfect or whatever."

He squeezes the bony body a little tighter, "Although that said, I love you. And so you'll always be beautiful to me. Inside and out."

When Hob pulls back to look at him, there are tears slowly running down Dream's face, and he doesn't look like he believes him.

It breaks Hob's heart.

But they've got time.

Kissing the tears from his cheeks, he makes one last promise, "I'm going to prove it to you. However long it takes. The rest of my immortal life. I'll prove it to you."

Dream still doesn't respond. He simply closes his eyes and swallows back all the arguments bubbling in his chest. They don't have sex that night, but Hob pulls the covers around them and holds Dream until he stops shaking. Until he's warm and relaxed in his arms again.

Dream never responds. But he's still there in the morning, waking Hob with a gentle kiss, and that’s enough.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hob stops trying after that.

There’s a subtle relaxation to Dream now, as if he has exhaled after months of holding his breath, and it is a painful realization for Hob to acknowledge that his attempts had, in fact, been making things worse.

Nothing for it now but to learn from it, he supposes. So he doesn’t push. He savors every smile Dream graces him with, every soft touch and loving gaze. They start watching different genres of movies and shows, and sometimes Hob manages to convince Dream to go somewhere in the city with him. Dream shows his happiness is a thousand quiet ways, and Hob cherishes each of them.

On this day, Hob isn’t even expecting Dream at all. They had already seen each other several times that week, and Dream was a busy being, so Hob was anticipating a quiet night and maybe a dream-visit later in the evening. They were approaching the one-year anniversary of Dream returning to the New Inn, which Hob knew was a complicated time for Dream. It was, after all, also approaching the one-year anniversary of his escape from the monsters who imprisoned him.

Hob is, admittedly, a little lost on how to handle the occasion. Dream has been dealing with it the way he deals with everything, which is to say he hasn’t mentioned it and if pressed would make some excuse about arbitrary dates or something. So Hob falls back on one of his tried-and-true love languages.

Food.

Sure, Dream doesn’t eat much, if at all, but he knows he appreciates the gesture when Hob offers him treats. So Hob has dedicated the evening after returning from work to trying out a fancy recipe he found for a lavender cake with lemon curd and buttercream. If it works out well enough, he’ll make it for Dream on one of their more official date nights. Cooking has always been more of his forte, but it can’t be that hard to switch to baking, he figures. Besides, last Christmas he splurged on one of those expensive Kitchen Aid stand mixers, so he should be set.

At first, it does go smoothly enough. The lemon curd is thinner than he wanted, but it still needs to cool a little, so he’s not giving up on it yet. He’s beaten the eggs and sugar, and has just poured what he feels is a reasonable amount of flour into the bowl. It’s a little full, sure, but as he drops the paddle in he figures as long as he keeps the setting low he’ll be fine.

And that’s when Dream shows up.

And, to be clear, by ‘show up’, he means just fucking appear next to Hob in the kitchen out of absolutely nowhere.

“Hello Hob-”

Dream is interrupted by Hob’s high-pitched shriek, accompanied by the way his full body flail catches the switch on the mixer. The paddle, half buried in flour, goes from zero to ten, a mushroom cloud of flour engulfing the kitchen followed by waves of egg and sugar.

“SHIT! FUCK!” Hob sputters, waving his arms blindly as his vision is obscured by the explosion of batter, until his fingers finally find the switch and slam it off.

The entire kitchen is hazy with flour in the air, and Hob is sputtering, trying to spit out the mixture that got in his mouth during the explosion. He is spitting into his arm, shaking his hair out like a dog, and so it takes a moment for him to register another sound in the room.

It is, undeniably, a laugh, but only in the sense that there is a distinct “ha ha” to the sound. But there’s a quality to it, like if you scraped gravel across a chalkboard, deep and low pitched but still somehow grating, broken up by long notes that remind him of a braying bloodhound.

Snapping his head around, he only catches the last moment. There is a split second where he sees Dream, flour in his hair and bright streaks of egg and sugar on his black clothing, his eyes bright with glee, his mouth smiling wide enough to show his teeth, sees how his whole face seems softer and brighter and he hunches slightly under the force of his laughter.

Dream’s laughter.

Only for a second though. As soon as their eyes lock, Dream chokes on a breath. He actually takes a step back, away from Hob, as he slaps both hands over his mouth, fingers curling to clutch at his own jaw, and he doesn’t go red with embarrassment, but gray from mortification.

Deep in his mind, Hob knows he should be saying something comforting. Something to console the anxiety that is obviously crackling under Dream’s skin like an electric current. He should definitely be doing something soothing.

But the sound of laughter is still ringing in his ears, every splitting note of it echoing in his head, and, really, there is only one way to respond to that awful, ridiculous noise coming from Dream's mouth:

"Marry me."

Dream's hands are still covering his mouth, but Hob sees the way his eyes widen, and his shoulders jerk up to his ears, and he thinks he hears a muffled squeak of surprise, and what else can he do but-

"Marry me right now."

They spend a long moment staring at each other. Slowly, so slowly, Dream pulls his hands away from his mouth, just an inch or so, still ready to clamp down anything he deems unseemly, but enough to let out a soft, "Pardon?"

And, really, how could anyone be expected to stand in front of this Endless- this unfathomable, multifaceted being who is powerful and elegant and ridiculous and adorable and perfect- and not leap forward to embrace him?

Dream's hands are still in the way, and so as Hob wraps his arms around him, his lips land on his knuckles, pressing the hands back against Dream's mouth just as another surprised squeak escapes him and Hob is so in love. He doesn’t care that they are making a bigger mess, and Hob's kiss is no less enthusiastic for the bony barrier between their lips. It's still Dream's skin, and so it is still a gift.

Eventually, he pauses long enough for Dream to uncover his mouth, his hands hovering over Hob's chest, barely touching enough to leave light fingerprints in the batter coating his shirt. He blinks in confusion and Hob is smiling so wide his cheeks ache.

"You. Do not think it is…?"

Hob pulls him tight against his chest, peppering kisses all over his face, careless of the flour getting in his mouth as he rambles lovingly, "It's ridiculous. You sound like a choking donkey. You've never looked more beautiful. It's hideous. It's perfect. I want to hear that laugh every day for the rest of my life."

When he looks, Dream's eyes are shining with tears, but he's also smiling, his face full of wonder and fragile hope as he whispers, "That is. A long time, Hob Gadling."

He's still smiling, which makes their teeth click when Hob leans in to kiss him properly, "Longer, if I have any say in it,” with effort, he pulls back just enough to point out, “You haven’t answered my question by the way.”

Raising an eyebrow, a bit of shyness returned to Dream even as he replied petulantly, “You did not phrase it as a question.” Hob rolled his eyes, and Dream continued, “That was not. One of your jokes?”

“My love,” Hob takes one of Dream’s hands, laying the other over his own heart dramatically as he drops to one knee on his disastrous kitchen floor, “I have never been more serious.”

Dream burst out laughing.

Tugging on Hob’s hand, he pulled him to his feet and pressed their mouths together, “You ridiculous, absurd, wonderful man,” Dream declares when he can catch his breath, “Nothing would bring me more joy than to call you my husband.”

Eventually they have to stop kissing.

They are both laughing too hard against each other's mouths.

[cinnamontoastcrunch-15]

Today’s @wolfstarmicrofic prompt is arranged!

Time for more of my favourite au

Masterpost here!

(326 words.)

“Padfoot, love?” Remus called, stepping from the dark hallway into the brightly lit kitchen, where Sirius was scribbling something pretty illegibly onto a notebook.

Sirius and his doctor handwriting.

“I’ve got it. I’ve fucking got it. I know what I need to do tomorrow, the next part of the experiment.” He said, looking up at Remus with wide eyes. Remus took in the dark circles there, a smudge of ink somehow having made its way to his cheek, and both ink and a few red marks over his hands from his hastened scribbling.

“Uh… great? It’s three in the morning, though, can’t you pick this up tomorrow?” Sirius laughed, eyes straight back down as he started sketching a diagram, a little haphazardly.

“Can’t do that, what if I forget by then? I have to get it all arranged now, and then-“

“Right, yeah, but when was the last time you slept?” Remus interjected, glancing quickly at the clock before his gaze moved back to Sirius. Sirius waved an unbothered hand.

“Sleep isn’t important, this is!” Sirius exclaimed, slapping the notebook with the back of his hand. Remus moved slightly closer, gently taking the pen from Sirius’ hand. “Hey, what-?”

“Come on, let’s go.”

“Go where?”

“If you really can’t sleep, you’re not staying up and giving yourself blisters from writing again. We’re meditating, come on.” He offered Sirius his hand, knowing that Sirius wasn’t one to deny him of anything. After a moment, Sirius grabbed his hand and let Remus pull him away from his work. “You can’t focus until you fall asleep, dumbass.”

“Why not? S’not like I need beauty sleep.” Sirius quipped with a wink, and Remus snorted. It wasn’t exactly witty, but he was functioning off no sleep, Remus wasn’t expecting much.

“No, I’ll concede to that, but I’d rather you don’t run yourself ragged. James’ll hunt me down and kill me if you show up to work and fall asleep tomorrow.”

“…fine.”

[kennedy-brooke]

i promise I’m working on something guys, i just want to have more than one part done and it’s all yours. pcd is a great motivator (the title might change so don’t count on it)

[blackhakumen]

Mini Fanfic #1217: Best Pals Forever (Pokemon: Dogs in Love 2)

Crap Gorps: But....Because I knew youuu~

Jolteon: Because I knew youuuu~

Crap Gorps/Jolteon: Because I knew you~ I have been chaaaaaaaanged......For goooooooood~

Two best friends giggles softly as they lean over and Hugs one another.

Jolteon: I love you man~

Crap Gorps: Ditto- (Suddenly Felt Something Small and Wet Drop on him as He Looks Up and Sees) Hm? It's raining? But I thought it was supposed to be- (Eyes Widened at the Realization) Oh no. Uhh..... buddy?-

Jolteon: (Already Tearing Up) I love you so much, Crap Gooorrps!~

Crap Gorps: (Quickly and Gently Rubs Jolteon's Back in Comfort) I know, I know. I love you too, man. I'm.....pretty sure we already established that seconds ago-

Jolteon: Our friendship is so sacred to me!~ I don't want this all to end noooow!~

Crap Gorps: Wait. (Pulls Away For a Second) Is that what you've been worried about? Our friendship?

Jolteon: Coming to an ennnnnnnnd!~

The rain starts going down more harder than originally as the sound of thunder begins to emerge.

Crap Gorps: (Quickly Went Back to Rubbing his Pal's Back in Panic) Hey-Hey-Hey! It's okay! It's okay. Don't cry. Our friendship isn't going anywhere.

Jolteon: (Puts his Wailing on Hold and Stares at Crap Gorps with His Sad, Sparkling Eyes) Really? ('Sniff') Really? Are you sure?

Crap Gorps: (Gives Jolteon a Reassuring Smile) Positive, man. (Chuckles Lightly) Heck, if anything, this is the most positive I've been a very long while- (Stops Chuckling Once He Realizes He Said a (Very Weak) Swearing Word in Front his Now Pouting Friend) Uhh- ('Clear Throat') Sorry.

Jolteon: ('Sigh') It's fine. I'll allow it just this once, Crap Gorps. (Lightly Boops on Crap Gorps (Non Existent) Nose)

Crap Gorps: (Chuckles Ticklishly) Okay, great! But seriously though, even if we do go our seperate ways, which I can't stress enough, HIGHLY doubt that will ever happen anytime soon, our friendship won't automatically break apart along with it. We've been through so much together let it all go to waste now, am I right?

Jolteon: Yeah. ('Sniff') I don't want it all to go away....

Crap Gorps: (Gently Grabs Hold of Both Jolteon's Paws) And it won't. I promise. You, me, the rest of our team, we're all on this together, cheesy as it sounds.

Jolteon: (Giggles a Bit) I like cheesy stuff~

Crap Gorps: (Chuckles Lightly) I bet you do. You're sounding better already.

Jolteon: (Smiles a Bit) Yeah, I guess I am huh? I'm sorry I got a little emotional earlier.....

Crap Gorps: No worries, man. I get it. I'd probably be freaking outta too if I were in your....paws. You know you guys are the first real friends I've ever made, right?

Jolteon: ('Gasps') Really?~ What about your law office buddies?

Crap Gorps: (Shrugs) Eh. Our relationship is more professional if anything. I think I remember a few of them didn't like me all that much.

Jolteon: (Starts Pouting Again) I don't know why. You're the coolest guy I ever known, Crap Gorps!~

Crap Gorps: (Heart Begins to Melt in Genuine Happiness) Aww~ Thanks, man. I'm pretty sure you're objectively more cooler than I am though.

Jolteon: (Blushes a Bit While Flailing his Paw Down a Bit) Oh hush, you~ We can both be the coolest together! How's that sound?

Crap Gorps: (Grabs his Chin While Thinking) Hmm.....Cop out conclusion- (Shrugs) But sure, why not. Hey, you like SpongeBob right? (Points Back at the Pokemon HQ Lab Behind Him) Wanna watch all three of his movies back inside? I-I mean, only of you want to, of cour-

Jolteon: (Stares into his Best Friend's Eyes As His Begins to Sparkle) Grops, I LOVE SpongeBob, let's do it!~

Crap Gorps: (Stardled a Bit by Jolteon's Sudden Stare Vefore Returning Back to his Posture) Alright. Good to know. Let's go. (Walks Back to HQ with Jolteon By his Jolteon) Glad to see you're in high spirits again.

Jolteon: All thanks to you, buddy. You're a real life saver, you know that?

Crap Gorps: (Rubs the Back of his Head Back and Forth) I wouldn't exactly call myself that really. Considering all the times you helped cheer me up in journey together, I'd figure I try to return the favor for once, you know?

Jolteon: ('Sniff') And you succeed with flying lights and colors.....('Sniff') I'm so proud of you, buddy!~

'Thunder Roaring'

Crap Gorps: Uhhhh H-How about we save the crying after we watch the movie, yeah? We have the whole evening ahead of us, you know?

Jolteon: (Giggles Softly) Okay, I'll try to keep it together. (Lays his Head Onto his Best Friend's Shoulder) Only for you, Crap Gorps~

Crap Gorps: ('Sighs a Bit in Relief') Right. Thank you.

As the two pals made their way back to HQ the clouds in the sky finally begins to clear themselves out, revealing a bright sun shining down on the area in question.

As the journey concluded, it still turned to be a very beautiful day after all.

@jelloapocalypse

[anincompletelist]

six sentence sunday! :D

@kiwiana-writes and @hgejfmw-hgejhsf I adore you both and I'm so lucky to get to read your lovely writing every week before it's published <3 thank you thank you for the tags! I hope you're both well!!

sooooooo I received another comment on ao3 (there have only been two but unfortunately it doesn't take much for me kjshkfjdh) suggesting a possible second part to this series in which we explore 'the night of five times', if you will ;)

long story short, I can't stop starting new wips and banged this out last night and we're going strong at 3k ksjhdkh

--

Alex fucking hates hotels.  They smell like bleach, they’re impersonal, and they don’t feel anything like home, where he desperately wishes he was in this moment. He leaves Cash and Amy at the entrance and crosses the marbled tile dutifully, sans luggage and donning a pair of thick Ray Bans despite the fact that it's pitch black outside the windows, a ball cap pulled down low over his head like some kind of fucking criminal.  Like a secret, which is infinitely worse.

--

I don't know if I'm early or late to this because I suck at time ones BUT I would love to see what y'all are working on friends!!!!! @nocoastposts @inexplicablymine @read-and-write- @daisymae-12 @happiness-of-the-pursuit @affectionatelyrs @heybuddy-drabbles @firstsprinces @littlemisskittentoes @wordsofhoneydew @cricketnationrise @tintagel-or-cockleshells <3

[nomoreusername]

Mixed Feelings (Part 4)

Pairing:Thomas x female reader

Summary:Now that you both finally realize your actual feelings Thomas picks you up for your date.

"I called it. I was saying it would happen from day one, but you didn't want to believe me. You were too busy being stubborn,"Sonya teasingly reminded me.

"Yeah, yeah. That's not all on me either. He was just as irritating about this,"I reminded her.

"Irritating? Is that why you're going on a date with him?"She asked. I rolled my eyes at her antics before pulling on my good shoes.

"Just tell me what you think,"I requested, showing my outfit.

"You look stunning ,"She assured me.

"Are you sure it's not too much?"I checked.

"No. Not at all,"Someone else answered. We turned to see Thomas standing in the doorway.

"You look perfect,"He stated, smiling ear to ear. Then again I was just as guilty.

"Cool. Now get out of here. Go have fun kids. Be safe,"Sonya listed, practically shoving me out of her room. I almost tripped over my own feet as she shut the door, but thankfully Thomas was there to catch me.

"It looks like you really fell for me,"He remarked. I sighed at the terrible pick up line as if it didn't give me butterflies. "What?"He asked with that same grin.

"You're still an idiot,"I mumbled in hopes to distract from the blush on my face.

"Is that why you look so flustered?"He asked, pointing it out and letting me know it didn't work.

"I'm not,"I denied.

"If you need to convince yourself of that then go ahead,"He shrugged.

"Are you going to let me go anytime soon?"I settled on.

"Yeah. I just have to do one thing first,"He vaguely explained. I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion as he seemed to be internally debating something. Then, I found out what as he leaned down and kissed me. 

Even though just a few days ago I would have wanted to stab him for this it seemed like the most perfect moment of my life. Out of all the plot twists I've had in life he's my favorite.

[autoneurotic]

gnashing my teeth. getting closer.

[onehundredfallenpetals]

Preview of my second piece for @rivalszine this one is a collab with @akechi-stole-my-heart for their fic they wrote for the zine

[sunshinewwx]

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☁︎

𝐅𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐠𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞♡´･ᴗ･`♡

Part 2!

What happend last part: Y/N) Well i can atleast go and look for Aonung’ I miss that fish lips already. You took a deep breath as you began walking to where you think Aonung would be.

(Aonung X reader)

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ: *kissing * slight yelling * touchy

If you haven’t read part 1 I recommend you do ♡ 1. 2k words

If you have any requests just come whit it, i write anything you guys want ♡´･ᴗ･`♡

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(Pov :) ‘You walked for a little while until you spotted Aonung sitting on one of the bigger rocks while throwing smaller rocks into the water.’ You walked up to him as you climbed up the big rock.’’

- Hey love! You smiled as you sat down besides him, wrapping your arm around his arm. He stopped throwing rocks into the water and smiled at you, as he gave you a kiss on the side of your forhead.

- What brings you here all of a sudden? He asked you as his tail wrapped around your waist meaning he dosen’t mean it in a bad way and wants you to stay.

- Well i have something i have tell and ask you, it’s very important! You showed him a smile but he could tell that something was bothering you.

He raised his eyebrown in suspicious as he wondered what you were gonne ask and tell him? What could be more important then begin here whit him? He nodded his head as that meant go on. You looked up at him meeting his eyes that showed he was both curious and thoughtful.

(Reader) -Well.. Haha you see.. Ermm.. You stuttered a bit and he knew well that it was a sign that something was bothering you. You usally stuttered if you were scared or embarrassed so he knew something was up.

(Aonung) - Love what is bothering you?.. He let go of your arm as his right hand went up to your cheek stroking it slowly as he looked into your dark blue eyes, they were like glass he could see right through them. Not only that but they always gave this beautiful glimpse of light in their eyes when they found something they found ’beautiful or found interesting,’ His face never felt hotter then it was right now, he made his way a little closer to you, he slowly went forward to your face not breaking the eye contact you two had. He closed his eyes as he gave you a soft passionate kiss on your lips, his right hand that was on your cheek slowly made their way around to your neck pushing your face closer to him. He felt one of your hand on his chest as you were getting tired of holding yourself up, his tounge asked for permission to come inside your mouth and it worked. His tounge explored every part of your mouth and his left hand stroked your hand that was on his chest. that lasted several seconds. You were the one to break the kiss as you needed air, when both of you went apart a straw of saliva was connecting both of yours lips. ’He smirked at you as his hand went back to your cheek stroking it.’

(Aonung) - Do you feel any better my love? He asked in his concern voice.

(Reader) - Yes im alright.. I looked down a bit to adjust my front bangs, a ‘smile’ crepping up to my lips as i did. I can’t believe i found someone like Aonung, he was perfect, not to mention cute, funny, caring, beautiful and nice, he was my everything and i love him so much. He understand me like noone ever has i can talk to him about anything so why can’t i just ask if he wanna come whit us? I took a deep inhale as i took my hand in his hand.

(Reader) - Love.. The war is over now and me and my family have come to the conclusion that were going back home, and i have been meaning to ask you if you wanted to come whit us for some weeks??

(Aonung pov:) After i heared the last sentence i didnt waste a second to hug her, of course i would love to go whit her! I can’t watch seeing her leave without me this could be a whole new experience to learn from and us to be together.

(Aonung) - Of course i wanna go whit you! I just have to ask my parents for permission but im sure they would understand. I let go of the hug as i gave her a small kiss on her forehead.

(Aonung) -Im so relieved that it wasn’t anything worse, i thought you were gonne break up whit me! I laughed as she playfully shoved my shoulder.

(Reader) - What!? Break up whit you! Never in my life would i break up whit you! I hoped onto Aonung chest as his arms wrapped around me.

(Reader) - ‘I love you so much Aonung, to the moon and back i mumbled.

(Aonung) - I love you to Y/N.. To outer space and back to pandora infinity times. I stroked her shoulders as i put a kiss ontop of her head.

( We stayed like that for a while until we decided to head back to Aonung’s parents mud, Ronal the Tsahìk, mate to Tonowari the Olo'eyktan. ‘leader of the metkayina clan’.)

”We came to our destination and saw Ronal making a braclet and Tonowari scraping a knife“

- Father?.. Aonung called out getting attention from both parents. Hmm what is it son? Tonowari asked as he looked at him.

”I felt Aonung grab into my hands as he coughed a bit, i squeezed his hand as i smiled at him“

(Aonung) - Well.. Y/N is leaving soon and.. He went on as i saw that Ronal already understood what the question was.

(Ronal) - No! What are you thinking! She pointed at her head. The clan need you right here on this Island. She stood up and walked over to where we stood, I could see that she was a little sad seeing that her son wanted to leave. Aonung.. We need you here.. She took her hands on his shoulder as she went in for a hug, Aonung cringed a bit as his one hand patted her back, he looked over Ronal shoulder to look at his dad. He gave him a ”help” look and not a second was wasted. His dad stood up and walked over grabbing Ronal shoulder and shoving her away a little only to hear a hiss from Ronal. Tonowari are you out of your mind!? Our son can’t be in some forest!? Tonowari didn’t answer as he just looked at Aonung. Son.. Is this what you really want? Are you sure about this? You wont regret it once your up in the sky?… - He asked many questions and i could see that Aonung was getting a little dizzy.

(Aonung) - No father.. I wont regret a single bit of it.. As long as im whit Y/N my word is whole im sure you feel the same way to mother. Aonung smiled as he took my hand up kissing it, Tonowari smiled at us as he backed away.

(Tonowari) - ”Very well”.. Im sure your making the right choice then.

He took his arm around Ronal waist as he calmed her down giving her many kisses.

I looked up only to see Aonung happily looking down at me, we both could read eachother minds like a flame. He embraced me into a thight and warm hug as he whispered in my ear. We did it love..

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[flower-zombie-rob]

Me wondering when people are going to stop expecting every piece of queer media to deeply adress every nuance of the queer experience when it was actually just built to be the happy tv show etc fluff that the gays never seem to get in the media

[twicethetrouble]

Writing Family Web Daily: Day 12

“Exasperated groan,” Donnie said, his voice a bit horse as he let his hands drop to his chest.

His sides were starting to get agitated from the signing anyways. “Stop being a Dumdum.”

“What?” Leo blinked clearly startled enough to snap out of his sulking for two seconds.

“You’re being a dumdum,” Donnie said again. “I shouldn’t have to deal with you being a dumdum immediately upon waking up from surgery.”

This was apparently the wrong thing to say since all it did was make Leo duck further behind his knees, now no longer even looking his direction.

“Extremely exasperated groan,” Donnie said pointedly, flopping his head back onto the pillow to look at the ceiling. He didn’t want to deal with emotions right now, his or anyone elses. But Leo wasn’t giving him much of a choice right now. He waved another beckoning hand towards his brother. “Come here.”

Leo shook his head again, not looking up.

Well fine then.

If that’s how Leo wanted to be, so be it. Donnie wasn’t going to just sit here and wait for Leo to stop being an idiot.

Donnie went to sit up, only to have to drop immediately back onto the bed.

“What are you doing?!” Leo asked. He sounded like may have been both shocked and concerned, but Donnie had other thing to worry about.

“Oh my banana pancakes, I may not have thought this through,” he hissed to himself as the pain in his sides settled back down again. “Note to self, moving freshly operated on body parts, hurts a lot more than not moving them.”

 “Donnie, are you trying to get up?!” Ok, yeah, he was definitely both shocked and concerned. Serves him right.

“Well, dear brother, if you won’t come over here,” Donnie said, mentally preparing himself before trying again. This time he didn’t try to sit straight up, instead just pulling himself up enough to prop himself up on one elbow. He smirked a bit at the minor accomplishment before continuing. “Then I’m coming over there.”

“Stay on the bed.”

“Negative,” Donnie stated, carefully sliding his legs to the side so it wouldn’t aggravate his sides anymore than necessary.

“Donnie, stay.”

“I am not a dog,” Donnie said, glaring at Leo once he managed to get both feet on the floor. He was in a crouch now, looking like he was caught between staying as far away from him as the room would allow, and wanting to make sure Donnie didn’t get out of bed. Well, he better choose fast.

“You just had surgery! Lay down!”

“Either I’m coming over there, or you’re coming over here,” Donnie said, stealing himself for what would probably be a painful trip to his feet.

Leo groaned, throwing his head back and bonking it against the wall before climbing to his feet.

[eveningearlgrey]

Rêverie

Pairing: Peter/Percival

Genre: Fluff, with a little bit of angst

First of all, this is written in second person PoV. "You" in this drabble is Percival. (Not you readers! This is not x reader fic lol.)

And I highly recommend reading this while listening to Rêverie by Claude Debussy. Do it. There's a reason for this and you'll know why.

This morning is quiet and serene; something you really appreciate after you have dealt with loads of paperworks for almost an entire week.

Now, you are lying on the bed, leisurely enjoying the peacefulness this morning brings to you. You have been absent-mindedly gazing at the white curtain since you are awake, watching it flutter along with waves after waves of gentle breezes.

That is when you start to notice; there is no arm or leg wrapping around you like usual. Where is he? You roll over to look at the other side of the bed. It’s empty; no traces of warmth left when you lay your hand on the sheet. Same goes for the pillow. He must have already gone long ago.

Then you hear something; the answer to your prior question comes in the form of faint melodies softly playing in the distance. So you decide to get up, stretch yourself a little bit, then leave the bedroom.

The music is getting clearer and clearer as you walk down the corridor. When you start going downstairs, you finally recognize the song; it is one of his favorite classical pieces. Peter probably has mentioned the name before but you always failed to remember it. It sounds dreamy, and makes you feel like you're in a dream-like state.

And there he is.

Peter, still in his navy blue satin pajamas, is playing piano in the living room. Rays of morning light from one of the windows shines on him. The way his hair shimmers, how his skin glows brighter under the sunlight, everything makes him look like an angel.

The sight before you seems almost too good to be true. He is so young, graceful, and breathtaking. Everything feels unreal.

And yet, there he is.

In your house.

Yours.

"Morning, dear," Peter greets you, while his eyes still focus on the keyboard beneath his hand.

"How did you know I’m here? "

"Instinct." He smiles as he answers.

"Oh, am I interrupting you? "

"Quite the contrary, amore," Peter replies. You would never get tired of his endearment. He speaks Italian now and then even after moving back to London to live with you, and you absolutely adore it. "Actually, this daily practice interrupts me from admiring you.

You cannot help but smile back. You walk across the room to join him on the same bench, watching his fingers working magic on the keyboard, and also fighting back the urge to lean on his shoulder.

"Did you sleep well? " Peter asks. He slows down the tempo until it’s more like casually playing rather than an actual practice.

"Mm."

"There’s some coffee left." He makes a gesture towards the kitchen. "I can make some pancakes for you too, if you like."

"No, no. You don’t have to. I don’t want to bother you,"

And that is when Peter stops playing. He turns to face you. One hand withdraws away from the piano to caress your cheek. His touch is tender, as if you are his most precious person ever.

Wait, you are.

"You’re never a bother to me, my dear Percy." His voice, the way he calls your name makes your heart warm and fuzzy. You cannot help but lean into his hand, wanting more of his warmth, his lovingly gaze, everything.

If heaven existed, this would be it. This is your definition of heaven.

"Percival? "

Strange. He just called you by your pet name. Why would he starts calling you by your-

"Percival? "

The second call of your full name startles you, shattering the dreamy illusion you’ve created without knowing as you snap back to reality again; no more blissful morning, no more sitting side by side.

And you are not in your own house, but in a studio, sitting on a chair with your head tilting to the side a little bit.

It was all just a dream, of course.

You would never have a chance to live like that again. There is no more ‘living happily ever after’ waiting for you, no second chances, not since–

"You’ve been staring at the wall for a while now, is everything all right? " Peter asks with a puzzled look on his face.

No, but I'll pretend to be fine just like I always do. You thought, as you straightened yourself back to your usual stoic persona; the mask you always wear and doesn't have a plan to take them off anytime soon.

"Yeah, I just…I think I was daydreaming a bit."

"How fitting. The piece I just played for you is called ‘Rêverie’." Peter gives you a reassurement smile. "Don’t worry, I got the same reaction as yours when I heard this the very first time. It sounds so dreamy, don’t you think? "

"I think so," You said. "It was so beautiful."

His smile grows wider. And you are, too. Especially when you–

No.

Stop it.

Stop.

"Whenever I hear this piece, I imagine myself settling down with someone I love. We would sit on a bench together while I played something."

It doesn't help at all when Peter's vision is awfully accurate to what you’ve had in mind earlier. Is this a sign? You wonder. Is this a sign for me to finally move on?

But what about him?

"How about you? What were you daydreaming about? "

Us.

"Good old memories." You lied, of course. You always do.

But it’s probably better than telling the truth.

You're not ready for that.

[ritz-writes]

so i made a small change to good things come to those who wait, for those who haven't noticed 👀

see anything different?

like a... chapter count perhaps? 🤭

[popponn]

confession: i really really like enemies to lovers trope

[fkinavocado]

been a hot minute since 4am caught me writing 🥹