For the mashups: 11 (Neighbor AU) & 99 (Magical Accident) for whatever ship you think would be funniest
Oh who would be funniest for that?
I mean first off it would be an urban fantasy kind of story, and someone who really oughtn’t be messing with magic because they have no actual magical talent just. Blows a hole in their floor and becomes immediately acquainted with their downstairs neighbour’s living room. So the story is half them trying to repair the ceiling/floor before their building’s superintendent figures out something’s up — difficult because they really shouldn’t be using more magic on account of the “zero natural aptitude” situation but also neither of them know how to do actual building and carpentry shit — and half them falling in love in the like. Nuts and bolts aisle of a hardware store which is also a place neither of them should be.
Okay okay okay actually I think it’s Dinah and Ollie. Dinah is a florist by day and a singer in a punk/grunge/seattle-in-the-90s band by night, and she was just trying to come up with some kind of warding hex to keep the insane botanist from UW, Doctor — whatever she keeps calling herself, Isley? Ivy? Something with an I for sure — from breaking into her shop during the night. But, possessing no more magic than an impressive voice, the spell goes sideways and she finds herself in the middle of Hot-Blond-DILF-from-6B’s living room, surrounded by rubble and chaos.
Ollie, possessing a reasonable and rational fear of the building’s superintendent, immediately agrees to help Smoking-Hot-Chick-in-7B repair his ceiling and her floor before the super can find out anything untoward has happened. Has he ever used a table saw in his life? No. Is he willing to make an absolute fool of himself because it makes Dinah laugh? One hundred percent.
Does it eventually turn out that Ollie technically owns the building? I mean, yeah, for sure, but he very much is not the superintendent who can and would kick his ass for this (Hal).
For the kiss prompts: Dreamling, 22. ...in a rush of adrenaline
22 - in a rush of adrenaline (Kiss meme prompts)
“How do you have this?” Hob breathes, moving toward the last sword in the rack. It’s a dull, grimy thing, but when his hand closes around the hilt his fingers fit into the grooves worn into the leather as if he’d last held it yesterday and not centuries ago.
“The armory of the Dreaming will hold whatever you like,” Dream says, coat swirling around his legs as he comes up to inspect the sword that Hob has drawn. “Do you miss it?”
“The fighting? Nah,” Hob says immediately, although he doesn’t let go of the sword. “Blood and mud and terror — I’m well out of that. It’s just…” he trails off as he draws the sword a little out of its sheath. It shines; it’s been well cared for, here in the Dreaming.
“Yes?” Dream is watching him intently.
“It’s just —” Hob laughs, shaking his head, resheathing the sword. “It’s just something I was good at, you know?”
The corner of Dream’s mouth twitches up. “Yes,” he agrees. “I do know.” He pauses then, eyes searching the armory. It has an impressive spread, although they are mostly weapons of a type that the waking world has moved on from. Dream moves past Hob, selecting another sword and drawing it out, testing its balance with a practiced ease.
“I didn’t know you used a sword,” Hob says, curious.
“I do not,” Dream says, giving the sword an experimental flip. “But there is a swordswoman sleeping in the highlands who has trained for the blade since she was eight. And I thought that perhaps you might like to — exercise that knowledge.”
“Dream.” Hob can feel the grin pulling at his mouth. “Are you asking me to spar with you?”
Dream sniffs, but there’s an answering curve to his lips. “If you like.”
The training ground outside the castle looks pristine, and Hob is not sure that Dream hasn’t invented it on the spot. It hardly matters though, not with Dream settling into a ready position across from him. Hob sets his own footing, although it soon becomes clear that Dream is waiting for Hob to make the first move.
Very well, then. It’s not like Hob isn’t used to that.
Dream meets Hob’s blade cleanly, the sound of steel against steel ringing out over the courtyard. Dream dances backwards and then forwards again, nearly slipping underneath Hob’s guard, but old reflexes rise from the depths and Hob counters, holding him off. They trade blow for blow, circling each other underneath a high sun and Hob can feel the blood singing in his veins, the sweat collecting at his temples. He is good at this, and even if it’s been some time since he’s called upon these particular skills there is pleasure in exercising them here for low stakes, or maybe no stakes at all.
Well. Hob catches sight of Dream’s grin over a flurry of parried blows and his already labored breath catches. Maybe not no stakes.
Dream circles Hob and Hob circles Dream, blades held at the ready. Hob’s breath is labored but he doesn’t feel the exhaustion that he would were he awake, only the thrill of pushing himself against someone evenly matched. He spares a brief thought of thanks for the sleeping swordswoman, and then Dream is pressing forward again and Hob has to pay attention.
The sun hasn’t moved in the sky but Hob suspects that’s because Dream doesn’t want it to; or maybe it’s because Hob doesn’t want this to end, the push and pull between them that has found outlet here on the training ground. Dream’s blade finds an opening in Hob’s guard and cuts neatly through the seam of his shirt; Hob retaliates by slicing a button from the front of Dream’s coat. Dream’s appreciative smile as he steps back, fingers coming up to touch the damage, warms Hob all the way down to his belly and he allows himself a shaky breath before moving forward.
One strike that Dream parries easily; a second that reverberates between them, and Hob meets Dream’s gaze over their crossed blades. A third, and Dream’s grip suddenly falters, his sword dropping, and Hob presses the advantage —
Dream’s blade goes spinning away and then his hands are spread, unarmed, with Hob’s blade pressed neatly against his throat.
Dream’s throat works and Hob blinks, blood still pounding through his veins and muscles singing with exertion. He lifts his eyes to Dream’s —
And throws his own blade down, stepping forward and fisting his hands in Dream’s coat. Dream’s mouth when it meets his is just as hungry as Hob’s own, and Dream’s hands settle eagerly at his hips, pulling him closer in encouragement that Hob is all too eager to answer. The kiss deepens and Hob grows dizzy with it, but Dream is solid underneath his hands and that’s all that Hob needs, really.
Finally he draws back, although not far; Dream’s arms are still strong around him and Hob has no wish to be anywhere else except right where he is. Maybe Dream can feel that, because his lips are curved in a smile as they brush against Hob’s jaw.
“What happened?” Hob gasps as Dream noses down the line of Hob’s throat. He can’t imagine Dream had given up on purpose —
Dream’s grip tightens on Hob for a moment. “Everyone wakes up eventually,” he says, face tucked against Hob’s neck.
Hob shivers. “Hey, not me,” he promises, sliding his arms around Dream’s shoulders. “I’m already wide awake.”
Dream’s hands flex, and he doesn’t say anything, but Hob grins up into the sky as Dream pulls him close under the Dreaming sun.
It was very hard to choose, but: Big Sibs OT4 linguistics
In my previous Big Sibs OT4 fic, I had Jiang Yanli's internal narrative describe Wen Qing's tone using the word "prosody," which is weird for a person who is not a linguist, so now I've decided that a) she's a linguistics professor and b) she and LXC make linguistics puns to the annoyance of the other two (but especially Wen Qing) xD
Yanli 17:33
What time are you getting home tomorrow?
Xichen-ge 17:33
7-ish probably! Sorry it's so late
Yanli 17:33
No worries 💜
Would you like to articulate a quadrilabial click at that time?
Xichen-ge 17:33
It would be my pleasure to articulate that and many other phonemes with you tomorrow evening 😜
Wen Qing sighed and clicked over to the message app herself.
Stiles works nights at the local college-town diner. Derek is the weird, taciturn new regular who apparently needs huge quantities of food in the middle of the night. Stiles is determined to figure out why.
Rules are to answer the questions and tag people you want to get to know better/catch up with!
Five songs you’ve been listening to on repeat recently:
Unbreakable - Ellen once again
80s make out session - dacelynn
Over - a shell in the pit
American cliche - finneas
Slow dance - aj mitchell
—honorable mention to the entire Night Pop and idk. playlists on Spotify
Last Movie: Venom - I’ve chosen not to think too hard about how my current comfort movie stars a homicidal parasite ... eeeer I mean Alien Friend and his Disaster Buddy
Currently Watching: combination of hockey and whatever I’ve already seen and don’t have to pay attention to for background noise. I haven’t had the attention span to marathon a show lately. Unless we’re counting leaving the channel on all afternoon when friends starts, but I’m not exactly proud of that soooooo
Currently Reading: I’m about half through The Witch’s Heart by Genevieve Gornichec
It was last month’s book club pic, might not have grabbed/heard of it otherwise, but - Loki!
Tagging: I’m terrible, and never know who to tag on these ... ummm ... @coffeeandgunpowder @ijustlovehockey @armera @aireandsugar @gingerrootknits - ? - no pressure! Really anyone else who sees this and wants to answer!
