tj-dragonblade

[tj-dragonblade]

We need a sack large enough for her entire body.

#wwdits tv

[tj-dragonblade]

A3 Adoration, please

Thanks for asking, Anon, and I hope you're okay with smut because this one is nothing but. It's the third installment of Hob in the Wavemother's Robe from BG3; in the second fic, Dream spun fantasies about 'claiming' Hob in the middle of the bar and Hob suggested playing that idea out in a dream. This fic is that dream. If you haven't seen the costume, here you go; at this point Hob is barefoot, most of the decorative bits are gone, and Dream has torn off the excess skirt length directly below where the hip chains attach.

Dream moans, deliberate and decadent, stroking Hob through the end of his orgasm, tongue out and curled under the tip of Hob's dick to catch the last weaker spurts. He curls it around the head lovingly, draws Hob back into his mouth just far enough to close his lips around the tip and suck, to tease the last drops from the slit with his tongue, making a show of savoring it. Hob's pulse is pounding in his ears as Dream pushes him right to the glorious edge of overstimulation but still he can hear the mutters of envy skittering through their audience.

Good.

When Dream has finished milking Hob's cock dry, he pulls the toy from his arse as well and drops it somewhere aside. He rises swiftly and yanks Hob into his arms, steadying him and descending eagerly on his mouth. Dream kisses him fiercely, possessive and thorough, and abruptly spins him around. Hob finds himself up against the bar, Dream stroking down his thighs with a small tap to either knee. "Up," he murmurs, lips against the skin of Hob's back in the diamond left bare by his costume, and a quick glance down shows a pair of comfortably-spaced barstools right in front of him. He climbs up gamely, one knee on either stool, and then Dream is pressing him forward, down, until he is bent over the bar with his legs spread wide and his arse in the air, left completely bare at this angle by the remnants of the skirt.

"Delectable," Dream murmurs, hands roaming over the curves of either cheek, thumbs stroking into the dimples there. His other two hands curve around the front of Hob's legs to stroke up the insides of his thighs. "Beautiful, magnificent, mine—" His mouth presses firm and wet to the open rim of Hob's body, where the toy has left him empty and wanting, and then Dream's tongue slithers into him, slick and hot and long and thick. It fills him, delicious and deep and Hob groans, breathless, delighted. He rubs his cheek against the bar top, splays his knees a bit wider on their barstools and arches his back, shamelessly begging for more. Dream's hands shift, pressing his thighs and cheeks wide, spreading him all the way open, and Hob cries out as Dream's tongue twists inside him, licking over his prostate with precision strokes. Dream is also running one slender fingertip around Hob's hole where it's stretched wide on his tongue, layers of sensation that are driving Hob mad with pleasure.

"Dream, sweetheart, oh shit it's so good," he babbles, heart pounding, hips flexing. He loves this about sex in the Dreaming, that he can come long and hard and be seamlessly ready for more, can take as much as he wants, as much as Dream will give him. He bears down on Dream's tongue, wriggles back onto it with delight; Dream's nails prick sharp at the insides of his thighs and Hob whines, breathless. "More. Please—"

#askmemes #TJs Writing #Sandman #Dreamling #wip: a3 #nsft text

[tj-dragonblade]

I would to know what Space Between or Inspiration is about

Hi, thank you! Apologies for the delay in answering!

The Space Between is just an idea at this point; it would be a sequel to the lighthouse keeper fic and it springboards from Auri's The Space Between. It would be Hob taking Dream on adventures away from the Lighthouse once Daniel is around to share the duty, showing him various wonders of the various worlds that he's been telling Dream about all this time. Something like that. It's very very nebulous at this point but I like the story the two songs tell together and I would like to write this second half.

Inspiration is a quick meant-to-be-humorous Immortal Throuple ficlet about Hob struggling to finish an academic paper for publication and his lovers showing up and offering the obvious solution (i.e., muse-ly inspiration). Which Hob would never feel right about asking for, but Calliope is keen to offer. There is a snippet here that starts it off and this picks up directly after that:

"There is no presumption in accepting a gift freely offered, Hob," Calliope interrupted, and her voice was now warm, insistent, decisive. "Let me aid you, that you might put this task behind you, that you might release your words into the world where they will inspire others." She placed one slender hand on his face, soft against his stubble, thumb caressing his cheekbone. "Please?" "I…alright, okay," Hob sighed, and it was a testament to how frustrated he was with this block that he capitulated so easily. Or maybe it was just that Calliope was persuasive and reasonable in her argument, a force of nature in her own right, and saying 'no' to her was not an easy feat when she turned those kind eyes on him with Intent. "How does this work, then?" She smiled, a soft curling of her lovely mouth, and motioned to Dream. "Oneiros. Bring the laptop." She took both of Hob's hands and drew him up from his chair and toward the bedroom, gliding backwards down the short hall. "My gift is strongest when shared in passion," she explained, stripping off her clothing and moving to divest Hob of his. "Really?" He offered up a skeptical grin, cooperating as she undressed him all the same. "Sure this isn't just an excuse to get me naked, have your way with me?" "Most assuredly not." The grin she gave him in return was both sweet and predatory as she pushed him back onto the bed and crawled after him. "That is just a fortuitous bonus."

I'm not sure how well it will adhere to the meant-to-be-humorous intention, in the end. Time will tell.

#askmemes #TJs Writing #Sandman #Dreamling #Immortal Throuple #wip: space between #wip: inspiration

[tj-dragonblade]

Last Line Tag Game

Thanks for tagging me @teejaystumbles ! A really nice surprise!! :D I am indeed contemplating writing two Dead Boy Detectives fic right now, but they're both in the very early 'being-outlined-in-my-head' stage, haha. They both revolve around post-s1 Edwin pining for Charles, one where Edwin takes matters into his own hands and one where he decides to have a chat with the Cat King about it. Not sure if they'll ever be written but they're intriguing!

But for the sake of the tag game, here's a lengthy bit from a Dreamling wip I've slowly been chipping away at for a few months!

A scene from Every Little Thing (Working Title)— In which Morpheus is a figure drawing professor who has just been fired from a film production based on his comics, and Hob does part-time figure modeling and is determined befriend the aforementioned professor.

Morpheus picks his class schedules wisely— he runs two first year general figure drawing classes, at 8 a.m. and at noon on Mondays and Thursdays. He helps the uni’s live figure workshop club on Wednesdays and Fridays at 6 p.m., and meets his sister for lunch on Wednesdays. All other free time was dedicated for his industry work. That wouldn’t be a concern anymore, would it. By the time Morpheus unlocks the door to the studio, sets his bag down by his desk, and starts fiddling with the ceiling studio lights pointed at the model stand, all of Morpheus’ thoughts have reduced to pure spite. Fine, maybe the big studios don’t want him. They don’t deserve him, then, their loss. His portfolio and repertoire are infamous in the industry, they’ll be crawling back to him in no time. Too bad, maybe he would have started his own production studio and he’ll end up with the next ground-breaking animated film. Maybe— Morpheus’ thoughts are interrupted by a knock at the door. He shakes himself out of it, calling, “Come in.” A glance at his watch tells him it’s only 7:48, perhaps it’s an overeager student here early. It’s only the second week of the semester, they grab every opportunity to prove themselves with a spirited step that Morpheus might be slightly envious of. “Hello, Morpheus Endeles?” Hearing his full name startles Morpheus, and he turns from the lighting settings to the door. “Yes?” The man who steps into view can only be described as radiant. He can’t be much older than Morpheus, not much taller either but wider in the shoulders. His hair is cropped just above his shoulders and he sports a neatly kept beard. Morpheus registers this all first simply because of his profession but— he gets caught on the man’s brilliant smile and deep brown eyes. There’s something there that knocks all thoughts clear out of Morpheus’ head. The stranger smiles warmly, smiles like he already cares. “I’m here to model for the morning and noon figure classes?” The man says. Morpheus clears his throat and steps forward, “Yes, this is the right studio.” He extends a hand, “Robert Gadling, I presume?” The man takes his hand— god, he’s so warm— and shakes it steadily, “Please, call me Hob! All my friends do.”

I'm a sucker for the 'Morpheus catalogues Hob's appearance during their first meeting' trope in most Dreamling human AU fics, I couldn't not do it too :]

Besides this, I've also got a Dreamling Velvet Goldmine-ish AU fic that I want to get done this summer. I'm a very slow and ruminative writer so let's see if I can commit to any of these fics now that I've posted about them lol!

No pressure tags! I have no idea who's been tagged recently so-- lol. @hardly-an-escape @valeriianz @moorishflower @amielot :)

#I'm reeled in by this idea #and would love to see more! #Sandman #fic

[tj-dragonblade]

#it's an amalgamation of different fan artists' styles #with a faint hint of Tom Sturridge every so often #Sandman

[tj-dragonblade]

Academic Conference au?? 👀

Academic Conference AU! The smutty one-shot that turned into a four-chapter hookup-to-breakup-to-get-together fic. I daren't post any of it until it's all done, for fear of leaving it unfinished. Chapter one is complete, chapter two about halfway-ish, chapter three has a couple bits and pieces scribbled and chapter 4 has several chunks taking shape. This is one of those fourth-chapter snippets, post-breakup:

It's a little over two weeks of this routine when a shadow falls across Hob's table while he's working on an email; he glances up when the person doesn't move along and suddenly, the email doesn't matter. It's Dream, bundled into his fashionable peacoat, curls in windswept disarray over his chunky glasses, standing there so awkwardly with a coffee cup in either hand. Hob's world stops for just a second at the sight; he's so beautiful, truly, and if he's here— The world starts up again and a tsunami of emotions crashes over Hob, stealing his breath. Relief, elation, anger, hurt, joy—oh, he is so angry still, but Dream is here and Hob could not turn him away for anything. He corrals all the conflicting feelings between one breath and the next, gazing up into beautiful crystal blue eyes brimming with trepidation and uncertainty, and manages a tremulous smile. "You're late."

There are many additional snippets of this in the wip tag as well!

#askmemes #TJs Writing #Sandman #Dreamling #wip: academic au

[tj-dragonblade]

remember how young and scared we were?

#BG3

[tj-dragonblade]

Ensemble, 1900 - 1901

#half sleeves with elbow ruffles will always get me #lovely things #fashion

[tj-dragonblade]

Last line tag game, tagged by @tj-dragonblade, thank you! Have some more Beauty and the Beast AU:

Rosie did not like Cornell, although if anyone asked her she wouldn't be able to say why. His smile was too hungry, she thought, more a sneer than a smile. Too much teeth. But as it were, nobody else believed her. About Hob, about the monster. And so she let him in.

"It is real", she said, as she closed the door of the workshop behind Cornell. "I haven't imagined it. I saw. It locked me in the tower."

Cornell turned and looked at her, his smile unwavering. “Oh, I don’t doubt it. I have seen it myself, that monster of yours. You say it kidnapped Hob?”

“It did,” she said cautiously. Cornell would be the first adult to believe her, and somehow that did not reassure her. “Well, kind of. He stayed so I did not have to stay.”

“How noble of him,” Cornell said, and now there was a hint of something sharp in his tone, like steel. “To sacrifice himself for you. How brave.”

Tagging @valeriianz, @rexwrendraws, @amielot, @academicblorbo, @teejaystumbles, @carnelianmeluha (no pressure. If you want, leave it be for half a year or ignore entirely :* )

#agh I have so many feelings about this #I want to shake her and tell her to run far away from him #but at the same time she just wants to help Hob #to be believed #and he's the only one coming close #aaargh #Sandman #fic

[tj-dragonblade]

some Hob Gadling with posts that made me think heavily of him (here's a Dream one i made earlier)

#Sandman

[tj-dragonblade]

#Chris Harms #Lord of the Lost #Team Germany

[tj-dragonblade]

Lord of the Lost in Eindhoven

#Lord of the Lost #Team Germany

[tj-dragonblade]

Lord of the Lost in Berlin

#Lord of the Lost #Team Germany

[tj-dragonblade]

what do you mean that's not how this scene went

#DBD #DBD spoilers #memeology

[tj-dragonblade]

so the thing about english is that people think it's so divorced from other germanic languages based on like. words. I've even heard people try to insist that english is a romance language. because of that whole messy business in 1066 with out-of-wedlock willy and his band of naughty normans. and now a good chunk of the vocabulary is french or whatever and they're prestigious so not using them makes you sound like a rube and this and that and the other

and yes william the conqueror will never be safe from me. I will have my revenge on him. he fucked up a perfectly good germanic language is what he did. this will be me in hell

but the thing is that most words in, say, german do have a one to one english equivalent. not all hope is lost, for those who still dare to see it. it's just that you 1066pilled normancels aren't looking in the right place

dog (en) ≠ der Hund (de) but der Hund (de) -> hound (en)

look with your special eyes. that one was easier. not all of them are this intuitive because of semantic narrowing and broadening and waltzing and hokey-pokeying and whatever else. I'll give you a few more

animal (en) ≠ das Tier (de)

aha! you think. I've got him on the ropes now.

but then

das Tier (de) -> deer (en)

nooooo!! you whine and cry in gay baby jail. the consonants are different!!! listen to me. listen, I say, putting both my hands on your shoulder. /t/and /d/ are the same sound. you just put your voice behind one of them.

nooooooooo!! you wail. deer are animals but not all animals are deer!!! listen to me. LISTEN. they used to be. animals used to be deer. that's just what we called them. it was a long time ago. it was a weird time in all our lives. it's okay.

let's try for a verb this time

to die (en) ≠ sterben (de) but sterben (de) -> to starve

same principle with the consonants, we're just changing a stop (where we completely stop the airflow and then let it through) for a fricative (where we still let some air go through. idk where it's going. maybe to its job or something.)

to starve used to mean generally to die, not just to die of malnourishment. we do that a lot. we take one word for a lot of things and make it mean one thing. or take one word for one thing and make it mean a lot of things. this is common and normal.

"okay but roland," you say, suddenly coming up with an argument. "what about tree? trees are super common. I don't think we'd fuck around too much with that. the german word is baum! what about THAT?"

"when did you learn german?" I ask, but then decide it isn't relevant right at this very moment. but fine.

tree (en) ≠ der Baum (de) but der Baum (de) -> beam (en)

beam??? you ask incredulously. beam???? BEAM?????? you continue with the same tone and cadence of captain holt from brooklyn 99.

yes. beam. like the evil beams from my eye I'm going to hit you with if you don't stop shouting.

but the vowels!!! you howl.

listen. listen to me. the vowels mean nothing. absolutely nothing. they're fluid like water. it got raised in english.

"WHAT DOES RAISED MEAN"

it doesn't matter right now. they were raised better than you, at least. stop shouting. open your eyes and see what god has given you. they're the same word.

"they're NOT the same word. they mean different things!"

we've been over this. they didn't used to. a beam was (and is) a long solid piece of wood. much like the long solid piece of wood I showed your mother last night.

FAQ:

Q: could english be some kind of germanic-romance hybrid?

A: do you become a sexy thing from the black lagoon just because you dressed up as one for halloween? english may have gotten a lot of vocabulary from norman french, but its history and syntax are distinctly germanic. that's what we base these things on.

Q: okay but what does it matter? this doesn't actually affect my day to day life

A: you come into my house? you come into my house, the house of an autistic man living in vienna austria and studying english linguistics and you ask me what does it matter? sit back down. I was going to let you go but now I have powerpoints to show you

Q: you're stupid and wrong and gay and a bad person

A: I know it's you, Willy

#linguistics

[tj-dragonblade]

Nothing gets him excited like a blueberry

#can relate #blueberries are very exciting #scaly little darlings #or close enough for tagging #🫐

[tj-dragonblade]

#the holy trinity #bless