#A new ship name is needed....

[magnusbae]

BECAUSE YOU LOOK GREAT. 😏😏😏 EERmM— You look WELL. You look a normal amount of well. Nothing more than well, maybe even a little sick. Like just that. NOT GREAT AT ALL. Careful Icarus your flirty-sona just PEAKED.

[dustbunsinspace]

Part of 🟢 Leo gets Overwhelmed au🟢

Aah, I’m so happy I made it in in time! 💙✨ Merry Christmas, tumblr nation! Here’s a little comic about 03 Usagi and Leo going so see the Rockefeller tree after the events of the Christmas Aliens episode.

Little post about events earlier that night

Also this is literally how maskless Leo looks to me, he’s so moomincore ;

[landwriter]

Hi! I hope you feel better soon!

This is a great prompt by @academicblorbo about Hob Gadling being the landlord of the Dead Boys. It has a wonderful fill already by @omgcinnamoncakes but I’d love to see what you come up with for it!

Alternative prompt from me if that doesn’t work for your brain: remember the date between Jenny and Maxine? How about one between Jenny and Esther? Poor Jenny is going to really question her taste in beautiful blonde women 😭

Thank you! I saw ‘landlord’ and ‘decades’ and blacked out. I love Hob having them as tenants. Maybe even before the modern day meeting in Sandman.

The Sandman/Dead Boy Detectives, 2.4k, G Dream/Hob, pre-slash, alternating/outsider POV, found family, a reunion and revelations etc.

---

Hob did not, strictly speaking, have tenants. It was more of a minor haunting. Pun intended.

The small room above the pub and below his flat wasn’t worth charging anyone rent for; when he first bought the building he had put a handsome oak desk in there and some bookshelves before wondering who he was possibly keeping up appearances for. Who was he going to take back upstairs that would stop and say, Wait, can I see your office? So he’d left it as more or less an abandoned room.

When he realized a pair of boys were using it as their clubhouse, he didn’t do anything at first. He saw them quietly coming and going a couple times, disappearing around the corner of the first landing. Brazen things. He meant to call after them, but the shout had died in his throat. He’d been young once. He still remembered the need to get away from it all. It was only when he went to check if they’d been making a mess of the room that he discovered it was still locked.

He’d crouched down and inspected the latch and found no marks at all. Huh, he’d said, and jiggled it again, and been a little more interested in whatever clever way they were getting into it after they disappeared up his stairs. Then he didn’t see them for weeks, and assumed they had gotten bored and stopped.

Until they came back. In the middle of an argument, striding through the pub like they owned it. Hob straightened up as they passed him.

“I cannot believe you broke the mirror.”

“I was in a rush! It’s not my fault you forgot you needed Arcana Incantatum after we arrived at the church. And found the demon.”

“I hardly forgot, I only made the mistake of assuming you would know to pack it by now.”

Hob raised his eyebrows. The boys disappeared into the back hallway. He followed them as they went upstairs, too preoccupied with their drama to notice Hob. They turned onto the landing, still carrying on. Even as they walked through the door. The locked, closed door.

Hob blinked. Then he drew his keys from his pocket and opened the door. The boys were still inside. One of them was pulling a mirror out of a backpack that was several times too small for it. They didn’t even look up, and Hob wondered how he couldn’t possibly have put it together earlier. He cleared his throat.

“Hello, boys.” That caught their attention. Hob grinned. “Seems we’re neighbours.”

---

Edwin abhorred getting involved with the living. He and Charles got along perfectly well on their own. They were a duo. An intrepid pair. Best mates, like Charles often stressed whenever he was about to ask something particularly ridiculous of Edwin. They were solid together. As solid as two ghost boys could be. The living, though, were messy and unpredictable.

Perhaps the most salient fact at present: Charles invariably became attached to them.

“He’s sad, mate. I can see it in his eyes.”

“You said those exact words in ‘94 about a dog. At least ask Hob himself.”

Before you decide to adopt him too.

Hob Gadling, irritatingly, was unobjectionable on every ground Edwin could think of. He had made no imposition upon them. When he found them, he only asked them their business, and then told them he was usually downstairs, or upstairs, if they needed anything they couldn’t procure themselves. He had an interest in rare and old books, as it happened. In explaining this, he had also hinted at being far older than his looks would suggest, which vexed Edwin twice over. He knew his curiosity would not be slaked until he talked to Hob, but then he would be the one getting involved with the living, and Charles would hardly let him forget it.

“Do you think he’s really immortal? Mate’s far too calm. Last week I saw him stop a fight downstairs by stepping right between these huge blokes. He just said something and smiled and they backed right off.” Charles lit up. “Do you reckon he’d teach me how to do that? Conflict de-escalation, innit? I could show him some moves with the cricket bat, I bet. Oh, do you think he’s a cricket fan?”

It was obviously a hopeless case, and since the Dead Boy Detectives never took on hopeless cases, there was only one course of action that remained. Edwin had long since disabused himself of the notion he needed to breathe. He had no beating heart, yet when he was startled, he would find himself clutching his chest. Now, he exhaled slowly through his nose in an entirely superfluous sigh of resignation. “Well, Charles, shall we go talk to him?”

---

When the millennium came around, Hob found himself celebrating it with his accidental tenants. There was something gloriously satisfying about being able to make a toast to the next one and have it taken seriously. He’d asked them if they had something better to do - spectral trouble to get into et cetera - and they both looked at him with almost identical put-upon and incredulous expressions.

Hob had a terrible suspicion they thought they were taking care of him as much as he thought he was taking care of them.

Edwin, with his insatiable curiosity and, deep underneath it, something Hob thought he recognized from himself: a sharp animal ferocity and a refusal to go until he’s good and done, natural laws be damned. Charles, still brightly, painfully alive for a ghost - who should be alive still, by all rights, but nothing of this life was fair - who joked to cover up hurt in a way Hob knew too, and glowed any time Hob turned so much as a kind word to him.

He wondered what they saw when they looked at him.

The year ticked over, and technology kept working. Charles grinned innocently and said he could probably possess the telly and break it that way if Hob wanted?

Hob’s heart twinged. He knew they weren’t his, not to keep, but it seemed that teenagers didn’t change at all over the centuries, even if the boys were only sort of teenagers in the way Hob was only sort of in his thirties. It didn’t change that they’d been punted from the mortal coil before having a chance to grow up, and figure out the kind of men they were, and make their own choices and fuck up and try to be better than their fathers, and everything everyone deserved. Hob had made more than his share of mistakes. They hadn’t been given the chance to make nearly any at all.

So they made toasts to the new millennium, to the detective agency, to themselves, all stuck out of time in different ways and refusing to move on for different reasons, and Hob allowed himself to think of Robyn and privately pretend that they were his all the same.

---

A week later, Hob was reminded of the other universal traits of teenagers when he mentioned his stranger and both boys began to grill him with terrifying alacrity. Before turning to his dating life, like ravening bloody wolves. When Edwin had asked, in a specifically nineteenth century manner that Hob remembered all too well, if Hob had always been unmarried, he’d nearly put his head in his hands.

“It can be hard for me to associate with the living too, you know. For obvious reasons.”

Charles had turned to Edwin and hissed “See? I told you.”

Right in front of him. Nobody had taught them manners.

“Manners, Charles,” replied Edwin loftily. “We will, of course, respect your privacy. A man is entitled to his secrets.”

“You’ll go upstairs and rifle through my personal things, is what you’ll do,” said Hob.

Charles coughed to hide his laugh. Edwin flushed and looked away. Hob snorted, and told them about Eleanor and Robyn. Properly. It was a strange relief. He’d told the story wrong for plausibility’s sake so many times he had been worried he’d forget the truth of it one day.

They had listened, and been remarkably quiet until Charles piped up and offered to set him up with a ‘really fit’ ghost. Hob had roundly shut that down. Woefully, not all explanations were satisfying enough. Charles cornered him again the next morning while he was cleaning the bar.

“No, mate, I still don’t get it.” Hob was about to say he no more wanted to be with someone who couldn’t feel pleasure from his touch than someone who would grow old and be taken from him while he stayed the same, when Charles went on, bafflingly, to ask, “Why don’t you meet your mysterious friend more often than once a century?”

Hob sighed. “Adults are often busy, Charles.” Nevermind that he had begun to wonder the same since the eighteenth century. He’d always just assumed time passed differently for his stranger.

Charles just laughed and perched himself on the bar top. “Ooh, low blow. We’re busy too, you know. Plenty of cases to solve.”

“Really,” said Hob. “You’re busy. Right now.”

Charles waggled his eyebrows.

“Charles, I am not a case,” said Hob, sternly as possible. “I’m not even a ghost. He’s not a ghost. No ghosts.”

“We could investigate. Maybe ghosts are involved. What even is he? Why every hundred years? Is it some sort of Persephone situation?”

Hob bit his lip against shouting I don’t know! I don’t know anything about him! Instead, he tried to smile, and felt it come out as a wince instead. “He’s very private.”

Charles scowled. “Yeah, obviously. You don’t even know his name. He can’t be that good of a friend if he’s too busy to see you more than once a century.”

Hob couldn’t see the expression on his own face, but he saw Charles’ shocked reaction well enough. It was so long ago for him, and still Hob knew at once what Charles saw now: that first time you manage to visibly hurt a grown-up’s feelings, people who seemed too old and too stern to actually feel pain, when you’d been going around kicking at them like a new foal, just to stretch your legs.

“Sorry,” said Charles, instant regret chasing his surprise. He was a good kid.

“It’s alright,” said Hob. He meant it. He looked down at the shining bartop. His hands were restless with the urge to light a cigarette. He gave in. It wasn’t like Charles would be dying of lung cancer any time soon if he decided to follow Hob’s example. “I don’t think he would say he’s very good at being a friend either. Truth is, I’d love to see him more often. But we had an awful fight the last time we met. If he forgives me, I’ll have to ask.”

“Mates always make up,” said Charles earnestly. He was such a good kid.

“I suppose they do.” Charles still looked sorry, and Hob clapped him on the shoulder. “Hey. Thanks for looking out for me, Charles.”

Charles beamed at him. “Always. We’ve got your back, me and Edwin.”

---

Charles couldn’t bloody believe it. Hob’s friend was here. There was nobody else it could be. He and Edwin were watching from a nearby table, pretending to be absorbed in their own conversation. Neither man noticed them. They were too busy looking at each other.

He couldn’t imagine spending more than a century apart from Edwin. The way Hob had talked about him and his stranger over the years, it sometimes seemed like they were best mates too, no matter how little they saw each other. He was dead sure that’s what had Hob looking so gutted when he thought nobody was looking. He had known they would make up, though. Maybe now Hob would be happier.

“Charles, we really ought not eavesdrop,” hissed Edwin. Right as he scooted his chair closer, the cheeky hypocrite. Hob and his friend were talking too quietly to properly hear, their heads bent together. Lots to catch up on, Charles reckoned. A hundred years. He couldn’t stop thinking about the number. It seemed impossible. Funny, he couldn’t imagine that long away from Edwin, but he could imagine spending that long being best mates. There was nobody he’d rather hide from Death with.

Hob’s face was doing something strange as his long-lost friend talked. Then Hob moved and grasped him by the shoulders, so tight that his knuckles stood out in relief. The man said something in low tones and Hob shook his head, and then pulled him in for a hug. The man stiffened and then relaxed, and his arms came up around Hob’s.

Their cheeks both looked wet.

Charles swallowed and it felt suddenly a little like he was choking. He should look away, only he couldn’t.

“They must be great friends,” said Edwin softly.

“Yeah,” he managed to croak. We won’t ever need to have a reunion like this because I’m never going to lose you, mate. I won’t let them take you. It was stuck behind the phantom lump in his phantom throat. His hand, without him telling it to, reached out and grabbed hold of Edwin’s. Edwin squeezed it hard, and Charles knew he didn’t have to make his voice work after all.

Then the man pushed Hob away, but only far enough to grab his face and pull him back again, thumbing over Hob’s cheeks, and beside him, Edwin honest-to-god gasped, and then Charles momentarily forgot how thoughts worked too.

---

It happens thus: in the New Inn, just next door to the White Horse, some 639 years after they first met, Hob Gadling and Dream of the Endless share their first kiss. Neither, if they had bothered to think about it, would have intended to have an audience, but it’s a well-known fact that some kisses cannot wait, and theirs was chief among them, being that it had so much to say, and was so very long overdue.

I missed you, it said, and I came back, it said, and Please don’t go away from me again, and I could not.

And atop them, like blankets, were laid invisible the daydreams of those who saw them, including two long-dead boys, whose dreams were woven from the fresh and unaccounted-for possibilities of Hob kissing his mysterious stranger. Another man, thought Edwin. His best friend, thought Charles. Dream was the only one who could have heeded this, but he did not, because Hob Gadling was holding him tight and daydreaming loudly of this kiss and more, of this today and tonight and tomorrow, ever greedy and ever easily pleased, and Dream could hear nothing at all over their clamouring and comingled joy; the bright gold daydream between the scant space of their bodies that sounded so much like at last.

[tallfroggieart]

AGH HAPPY PRIDE MONTH!!! (ft., ofc, our favorite ot3)

[looney-mooney-studio]

Posting these headcanons for how Irep looks before he shows up in the show and these arts are all disproven ✌️

[t00thpasteface]

arcade "the lady doth protest too much" gannon, champion of running his mouth and then clumsily backtracking

[bargarean]

kim kitsuragi who had to play pinball for so long that now he hates it. kim kitsuragi who had to work with kids for so long that now he doesn’t. particularly like them. kim kitsuragi who dare i say enjoys working with harry because the job is never repetitive with him. he can’t get sick of it when harry makes every day a wildcard. he can’t get sick of harry. now look i may be delusional here but you know who else is? harry would see my vision

[bearlytolerant]

well this happened. Emmrich can charm his way into any spirit’s heart.

[cupids-fiction]

the fandom is expanding to the most batshit rarepairs ever yessss 🌝🌝🌝🌝

yes dbda fandom growwwwww 😈😈😈😈GROWWWW GET A NEW SEASON 😛😛😛😛😛

[invye]

Me, gasping awake: "Omg, I haven't thought about Rosinante in days!"

My brain: "No worries fam, here's a huge CoraHawk fake dating fix it AU."

Me: "Thank you :)"

*10 minutes later*

Me: "But you know we can't have Mihawk without Shanks, especially if this is set during their duelling times, and also I think Shanks and Rosinante would get on like a house on fire--"

My brain: "This is gonna be a polyamorous Rosinante/Mihawk/Shanks story before long, who do you think I am??"

[mulders-too-large-shirt]

my favorite scully and mulder moments from s1

the evergreen classic mulder reaction to a terrified scully knocking at his door in the very first episode- how he checks over her, holds her close, and brings her into his room

(and then ANOTHER instance of examining each other for aliens in episode 8 which was wild. if i had a nickel for each time they had to look at each other's bodies for evidence of aliens, i'd only have two nickels, which isn't a lot, but its weird that it happened twice)

him playing with scully's necklace in episode 3, while admitting he feels "territorial"

the first time he calls scully "dana", right after her father dies- which surprises her so much she mumbles her name back to herself- and he follows up by grabbing her face and gently running his finger over her cheek

(and the first time she tries to call him "fox", after he had been awake for 3 straight days on a stakeout, and she begs him to go home- he laughs and says he even made his parents call him mulder)

((still, she brought him a sandwich and a drink- “if there’s an iced tea in that bag, could be love” “must be fate- root beer”))

scully in Doctor Mode™ after mulder got stuck in the fire in episode 12, trying to give him water as he lays in bed, while he gets all emo and pushes her hand away

when scully gets kidnapped in episode 15 and mulder calls her "dana" again over the phone, her first name slipping out in his fear, then he tells the kidnapper "listen to me, you lay one hand on scully, and so help me god..."

(and THEN he tells everyone going on her rescue mission that this is a very important mission to him, so please everybody do their best)

the endless banter: "i still don't get it. what does this have to do with us?" "robbing a jewelry store is a federal crime" (flatly) "thank you."

when he is at an autopsy with scully in episode 18 and makes it very clear he does Not Want To Be There (but she still is sad he won't join her on her next one in episode 22!)

"happy birthday scully!" (pause of confusion) "you're two months early!"

when she finally listened to the psychic to get evidence for a case in episode 13, trying to make mulder proud- "i'd thought you'd be pleased i'd opened myself to extreme possibilities"- only for him to yell at her for putting herself in danger

(later in the same episode she screamed at the criminal, saying that if he did anything to mulder, she'd kill him herself)

((AND their conversation at the end of that episode when mulder is laying in a hospital bed: "why can't you believe?" "i'm afraid"))

the very empire strikes back coded fighting in the arctic compound in episode 8

"you think it's remotely plausible that someone might think you're hot?" (stunned silence. scholars are still trying to figure out what was going on here)

oh, this one made me weepy: "i have never met anyone so passionate and dedicated to a belief as you. it's so intense, sometimes it's blinding. but there are others who are watching you, who know what i know, and whereas i can respect and admire your passion, they will use it against you. mulder, the truth is out there, but so are lies" aka the episode 17 monologue… what if i melted into a puddle? how would you react to this news? how about mulder the protector turning into mulder the protected?

(also, episode 17 had a moment where he grabbed her shoulder and leaned in and i had to restrain myself)

them having hand signals to indicate watch what you say, we’re being listened to

in episode 18, the preacher’s kid tries to taunt mulder with information about his sister and scully tries to shut him down Immediately

they’re looking for each other in the dark in episode 19 while a wild beast is on the loose and mulder finally kicks open the door and finds scully while she whispers “it’s okay, it’s me, it’s okay”

episode 20, when he shows her a bunch of lumberjacks, which he describes as “rugged manly men in the full bloom of their manhood” and he says she should look for anything unusual or a boyfriend among them... and she laughs

scully losing her mind when the evil cocoon bugs get on her, screaming at mulder to get them off of her, while he holds her still and explains it’s okay as long as they're in the light

(and then they sit on the bed, side by side, talking through the night)

when mulder’s friend dies and she kneels and says to him, “you’ve been through a lot… more than I think you realize” and encourages him to take some time for himself

any episode where they both wear big coats (for the snow in episode 8, or the rain in 20) is an instant classic to me

“mulder, you’re rushing me out of the room… is there a girl coming over?” from episode 11... yeah I laughed. and then laughed even more when he was just hanging out with deep throat in the next scene!

episode 23’s “how was the wedding? Did you catch the bouquet?” “maaaaybe 😊”

and who can forget the finale! she apologizes for doubting his alien leads; “I should know by now to trust your instincts” “why? no one else does” (both smile and i, once again, collapse)

there's so much to unpack here and i could spend a lifetime doing it, but before i watch s2 for the first time i needed to make note of the things that especially made me happy or brought great angst to the forefront; i am studying their dynamic and putting it in a bottle <3

[prince-liest]

I was outlining the next radiostatic fic when I got distracted by the fact that someone needs to put Lucifer into their lap and tell him he's a good boy, and now I'm 6.2k words deep into something that's turned out way more emotional than I thought it would.

[thereareeyesinsidethetrees]

stan: how can you be polyamorous and aroace, or…whatever mabel called it?

ford: in my case, i have my family and i have my platonic polycule. i would prefer to never have to interact with anyone outside these two groups

stan: what about soos and wendy? they’re not in either of those groups

ford: first of all, i am soos’ uncle, second of all, are you saying you don’t believe i would both die and kill for wendy?

stan: you’ve got a weird way of defining family, six

ford: it’s my favorite way

[the-names-kam]

i’ve had an epiphany

[lee-isnotcool]

permission to rename pandalily FlowerSeer?

[xxlady-lunaxx]

i kinda want sanemi being so new to relationships other than family so it takes him a while to differentiate what he feels for kanae as something familiar or romantic. like, he knows he and masachika were best friends, but with masachika it felt a lot like family. but kanae’s someone completely different, he doesn’t really understand it and just assumes that she reminds him of his mother so that’s why he cares so much. but then there’s a little something here and there, subtle pointers to a little four-letter word. something a bit deeper than friendship—something he can’t discern. to the point he ends up rambling about it to kanae, hoping she can help him. kanae only smiling and patting him (sanemi was too confused and stuck in his own thoughts to avoid it) and telling him that he’ll figure it out himself in all due time. but he doesn’t place it until it’s too late. and he’s so excited to tell her, finishing his mission faster than usual just to make his way to the butterfly estate. only to be intervened by a crow telling him that all his efforts have gone to waste and it doesn’t matter if he knows what it was. because now it only ‘was’ and never ‘is’. kanae’s dead, and sanemi knows that. he doesn’t need to ask her to tell him.