It's one thing flying out to another country and spending a week in your best friend's home, but it's another thing if you're in love with said best friend. That's a whole different story, but luckily, that's what this story is about. -------- Cross-posted from AO3 under the same account name. My friend Pi drew the cover for me and I'm so blessed!!! Please check them out on Tumblr: https://prettyinaccurate.tumblr.com/ and/or Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/prettyinaccurate/

For the past two years, the only dreams George has had the pleasure of having were horrible, horrible nightmares. These nightmares always had five things in common. In every one, each and every person he cared about died in an excruciatingly painful way. In every one, George was tied up, and there were lacerations all across his chest that bled but didn't hurt. In every one, there was someone cackling in the background. In every one, there was something there. Something he could never remember the details of when he woke up. And lastly, that something would always lick his wounds slowly, savoring his blood and fear before whispering a promise in his ear. "I'll see you soon, Georgie." [DREAM NOT FOUND FIC, INSPIRED BY WIZARDSTOVE'S DREAM DEMON DESIGN]

Pain. Hurt. Desire; Things you can't easily see on the outside. Meeting his friends for the first time, Clay didn't know what to expect. Friendships seem like an easy thing to grasp; especially over video games and voice chats. But friendships can especially be hard to handle, especially if you develop new feelings for someone. Although the worst part; you think they don't love you back, but you don't know why. And no matter how hard you try, Some things seem impossible to change. [CURRENTLY ON GOING]

When Dream feels his heart rate speed up at the end of George's Livestream, he knows he's too far gone. "This feels so wrong," George says and repeats. Dream clicks off the stream, the sounds of labored breathing filling the room as he tried to stem the panic he was feeling. The next day, after he had just barely dragged himself away from the edge of oblivion and heartache he would never return from, he felt the first tickle at the back of his throat. He coughed roughly, it sounded like he had fluid in his lungs or something. Pneumonia, maybe? But instead of coughing up mucus or phlegm, his eyes widened in shock at the taste of blood in is mouth. || Gream // DreamNotFound Hanahaki Story. There will be angst, slow burn, blood, vomiting, contemplation of suicide, anxiety attacks, and more. Do not read if this bothers you. You have been warned. ||