#The ways that you say my name
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lover boy
#THE WAYS IN WHICH YOU TALK TO ME (suguru-) have me wisshinng i were gonnne#The ways that you say my name#(sa to ru)#HAVE ME RUNNING ON AND ONNNNNNNNNNNNN--OHHH#呪術廻戦#五条悟#stsg#(yeah satosugu DEAL WITH IT THERES A HEART THERES A SUGURU OKAY)#drew this in... december?? smt like that TT (ill post more eventually lol. trust haha)#(at least i throw some sketches at you once in a while... *puppy eyes* im the conquerer of social media frlfrl)#gojo satoru#gojo satoru fanart#gojo fanart#jjk#jjk fanart#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen fanart#satosugu#gojo
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the fact that iron bull opens his recruitment conversation with pretending he doesn't quite remember the name of the the inquisition's ambassador. Jose-what's-her-name-again. he's just a big dumb jock no thoughts head empty mercenary who likes fighting and drinking don't worry about lil old me inquisitor! I'll hit things for you if you'd like as long as you pay me! ],) and then right after he reveals he's a spy he drops that he knows not only the name of your spymaster and how she operates but also her haircolour. (but like in a safely bro-y way tho! make that fighting and drinking and fucking! I'll be useful to you but in a real meathead non-threatening kind of way I'll be too busy bedding chantry sisters to do any real harm ],) continue to not worry about lil old me inquisitor!)
god bull you're so multidimensionally and fine-tunedly full of shit I love you so much fhdksah
#my love affair with the particular psychological damage bull has got going on continues unabated it Compels me#dragon age#dragon age inquisition#iron bull#AS IF you'd forget josephine's name even if you were just the successful mercenary captain you pretend to be you motherfucker!#the way he subtly controls the tone of that whole conversation is so fucking elegant and cool#say what you want about him and even though it's destroyed his soul bull does know how to do his job#(also the 'could've just been a guy in a spiked helmet orlesians aren't too bright' dig if you're adaar is just *chef's kiss*)
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At your side [End of Season 2]
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#poorly drawn mdzs#mdzs#wei wuxian#lan wangji#wen ning#jin ling#wen qing#jiang yanli#a-yuan#It may have taken a year but we did it! The end of season 2!!!#(Granted: this season was nearly twice the length of season one.)#It's been a really fantastic season to draw for. So many iconic moments! It was a lot of work but I had a blast B*)#I also enjoyed experimenting more and more with my comic style. I'm growing as a comic artist bit by bit!#There is even a little bit of shadowing in this one for next season. As a treat. All the fun (and not heart breaking) scenes to come!#Comic talk time: Recently saw 12 angry men for first time and I love the coincidence of the themes aligning here.#They both touch upon the horror of judicial systems - in which the most persuasive argument wins and the truth is a nuisance.#All it takes is one person to stand against the crowd and say 'I do not know what is true. And that is reasonable doubt enough.'#When the majority is for condemning someone guilty - that in itself is persuasive enough.#One will set their mind to what the 'truth' is and refuse to see it any other way. That their perspective is the only correct one.#No one is born with a monopoly on the truth.#Everyone has biases and agendas. Some care not for the outcome - only that they can be on the convenient side.#Lan Wangji is putting everything on the line to say 'I'm not going to go with the majority vote.'#And that is a huge deal in a story that is so politically focused as MDZS is. Everything is a careful chess move to these sects -#and to not play the game is basically sacrificing everything you are and your families name. For some it is unthinkable.#And there is no doubt in LWJ's mind. He would stand there and lose everything if it means upholding justice.#More importantly - these two have each other's backs. The bond is unbreakable. This is the most ride or die I have seen two people be.
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PLEASE POST THE ONE MILLION DOODLES YOU ARE SHY TO POST /pos 🙏
sure thang o7 here are some i made that i think are good enough to post. can you tell who my favorite merc to draw is
re: the last comic: i have way too many spy hcs. Way Too Many. anyway here’s (BLU) spy accidentally traumadumping on his teammates. is he Alright.
#team fortress 2#tf2#tf2 spy#tf2 scout#tf2 engineer#tf2 pyro#era.png#era.txt#anon#I LOUVE DRAWING SPY AUUHGH get this Frenchie Out of my Head.#i got an ask that complimented the way i draw spy and i wanted to say THANK YOUi’ll answer it with More Drawings Of Spy#also the red sqaure in the massage doodle is my hc name for RED spy.. idk if yall fw hc names so i just blocked it out#it’s what spy would’ve wanted anywya <3#id in alt of COURSE!!!#OH and#ask to tag#idk if the accidental traumadump comic could be upsetting to some ppl so ask me to tag it if you want :)#smoking#id in alt text
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atlantean pop idol sora kingdomhearts fancam
inspired by this post everyone's been redrawing
#kh#kingdom hearts#sora#destiny doodles#my name is des and i'm here to say i'll give you fandom whiplash in a major way#will i post ff next?#kh?#star wars?#even i do not know#isn't that qte prompt like really good actually#i drew that#it's dumb that i'm so proud of that but i really chef's kissed it#sorikai#just a crumb in these trying times
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find another role, carry on the show
#EDIT IT DIDNT SAVE MY TAGS. hey so this post got a thousand notes huh. interesting. surely nothing will change#i'll leave all the old tags. for my thought process. and its kinda funny#take a bow stupid idiot (throws a tomato at them)#in stars and time#isat#siffrin#siffrin no middle names no last name ദ്ദി ˉ͈̀꒳ˉ͈́ )✧#... or is it. Smiles#i'd like to draw mira for her birthday but um (hasnt open artfight website in a few days) im scared.#also i have NICE ASKS TO ANSWER.... But im scared. give me a minute#Uawaaaaagh i drew this bc i was trying to animate a little bit but it just . Didnt look good. im not good ag 2d animation#tch. ill keep trying cause there ar e way too many songs that and now about isat because i have brain worms. i need amvs.#IM SCARED TO POST THINGS THAT ARE SPOILERY BECAUSE I WANT MY FRIENDS TO PLAY ISAT. BUT.#isat spoilers#in stars and time spoilers#sasasap#sasasa:p#WHAT IS THE PROLOGUES TAG.#tshirt that says 'i <3 killing the image in the mirror and taking its place' on the fromt#and a list of megan thee stallions tour dates on the back. お金稼ぐ俺らはスター#Im kind of tempted to edit this to be the versiom with the eyes. or maybe twt can have that. or. well#all of my friends are on twt (trombone slide sfx) so maybe thats where i should worry about spoilers.#ill see if i want to slap an eyepatch on them in the morning#Im one of those people who was like idgaf about twohats (lets it simmer for a week) Oh my god. Oh my god. Ohmy god#EDIT. i swapped it out for the Eyes version it should be fine as long as its tagged formspoilers right...#ill post eyepatch vers on twt partly bc spoilers but also ppl over there can be .. annoying ..... ....#i fear i would get 800 You Forgot The Eyepatch replies. PLEASE JUST SEE MY VISION.#[BANGING MY HANDS ON THE GLASS] HIS HAND. LIKE IN THE PROLOGUE. WHEN THEYE. HANDS. HELD[EXPLOSION
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Let us be brutally honest with ourselves and with eachother for a moment. If he weren't obese you motherfuckers would be capable of percieving evrart claires sexy sexy moral ambiguity and complex charms
#i am (lesbian) sipping him like a fine DESSERT WINE#my evidence by the way is very simple and very damning. joyce messier. there i said it.#if you guys can appreciate the fact that Joyce is a complex figure worthy of disgust yes but also worthy of empathy#despite being a venal coward facilitating acts of violence and slaughter of the organized working poor of martinaise in the name of capital#if you can understand that she is a dimensional figure while also being an embodiment of the moral apathy and cruelty if capital owners#but you cant look at evrart and see that he is (while deeply flawed and morally suspect) also a dimensional figure#on top of the fact that his motivations are eminently relatable and dare i say it baser#and his greatest failing imho is in failing to advocate for the interests of *all* the poor of martinaise#opting instead to marginalize the inhabitants of the fishing village in favor of a power grab in the interests of himself and his union#though this is imo a bit of a grey area morally. undeniably a wrong and bad thing to do but done in service of clairs political goals#to gather power to advocate for the working class against ultraliberal monoliths like wild pines and fascistic orgs like krenel#still super wrong but i can follow the moral arithmetic there tho i don't like it#but like my point is if u can see that joyce is evil and pathetic but still cool and sexy but you consider clair flatly distasteful#thats cus hes not conventionally attractive#cus he is *every bit* as dimensional and interesting as joyce and he is not nearly as politically shite even if hes interpersonally a jerk
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mmm throwaway conversation between Dan and Danny that popped into my head that I had to write out:
"You spent ten years being a one-man mass extinction event, then went back in time and fought me, and lost." Danny snarls, arms crossed and throat tight. His mouth pulls back to bare dagger-sharp teeth, and his eyes burn with the familiar thrum of ectoplasm heating up behind his eyes. "If I didn't believe you were half of Vlad before, I do now."
His other self -- and really, can he even call him that? He's half of Vlad too. Two halves severed from each other and welded together to make a new whole, -- snaps his head over to him. Wild-eyed and furious, he looks unlike the man Danny fought before, the one unruffled and untouched, unbothered by the world around him. It's familiar, but not like the way a reflection is.
"What's that supposed to mean." The Other hisses, matching Danny's scowl one-for-one with fangs much bigger and sharper than his.
But there's a reason lions fear hyenas. Danny matches the rumble in The Other's chest with one of his own, and shoves his face close to his. "I don't lose."
#danny fenton#danny phantom#dp prompt#danny phantom prompt#dan phantom#dark danny#not meant for any particular au i just had the idea of danny going 'wow you can tell you're half of vlad' to dan and when questioned abt it#he says; 'if you were REALLY only me you wouldn't have lost' which is fucking BASED as hell. and also technically true#thought process for danny here was 'hates dan's fucking GUTS bc he tried to kill his family and friends without remorse and would actively#rip out his throat without a moment's notice.' some fr 'im going to beat you to death with my bare hands!' vibes rn.#not totally in character for danny but also i was thinking that it got to this point bc dan was goading danny about 'being his future self'#when that's not technically true. he's half of vlad too he just has danny's face and powers. and he pissed off danny enough that he#retaliated. just not in the way dan expected. dan was expecting a physical attack not a verbal one.#danny called him a loser in more ways than one.#also the reason danny never calls him 'dan' in this is because i was thinking that danny doesn't actually *have* a name to call him. bc he'#certainly not danny. but he's not vlad either. he's someone else entirely. so 'The Other' it is.#danny fenton is not the ghost king#<- down here because while its still MY DP post its not DPXDC so it doesnt need to be front and center for people to see it.
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Headcanon that cas does not understand human pet-names in the slightest. Sure he knows about ‘darling’, ‘honey’, ‘sugar’, but he doesn’t understand why those words are chosen specifically. One day, Dean and Cas are in the kitchen, Dean’s making dinner and Cas is watching him, and Dean’s like, “Hey Cas, can you pass me the rice?” And Cas, wanting to impress Dean with his knowledge of human interaction/emotion, responds with “of course, Milk.”
#“Cas thats not how it works”#“but milk is sweet and whole Dean just as I see you—“#coming from someone who despises pet names#I think the only suitable one for Dean to use is Sweetheart#and sunshine makes me giggle and kick my feet#and ofc cas only uses Dean because everything else feels wrong#Dean is just so right#and the way he says it#it’s sknthem and so perfect#spn#supernatural#destiel#dean winchester#castiel#Headcanon
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Rook not beating Teia and Viago's foster child allegations
(source)
#teia also says 'I hear you go by rook these days'#which in my case means she either knows mien from his recruit days or that he trusted her enough to tell her his name#either way it pleases me#dragon age#dragon age the veilguard#veilguard#andarateia cantori#teia cantori#viago de riva#da rook#de riva#rook de riva#antivan crows#dragon age the veilguard spoilers#veilguard spoilers#dav spoilers
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Siffrin: Hey, Stardust, any ideas for this loop?
@chipper-smol This is how I picture the start of 80% of their conversations going after awhile in role reversal au.
#isat#isat spoilers#loop isat#siffrin isat#TECHNICALLY#in stars and time#isatrolereversalau#rolereversalau#this has been in my head all day#listen they're still siffrin even if loopfrin told them everything siffrin would still find a way to say 'okay but how do you know MY-#-FRIENDS would accept me. We've done different things!!!' to which loopfrin apologizes to Loop in their head for having to deal with this#siffrin would rather chew their arm off than Talk About Their Feelings so uh. Might take a bit for them to get there even with loopfrin#im not redoing all the tags but loopsif is the name for clover star siffrin not loopfrin#i had a fifty fifty and beefed it ooop#my posts
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have always found it immensely odd/frustrating when I see people who refuse to use any sort of physical force to control their dog. by which I do NOT mean hitting obv, but like: if the dog is standing rigid on the sidewalk barking at something and the owner is just standing there next to it, lightly tugging the leash but nothing more. or a small dog that’s lunging and pulling towards another dog and the owner is just, again, walking placidly behind it. or a dog that’s laying down on the sidewalk bc it wants to pounce on an oncoming dog and the owner won’t touch it. Etc you get the picture.
like goddamn dude it’s a dog. It’s on a leash. Fucking move them. why are you letting yourself get pulled around by a 20lb doodle?? sure ask nicely first but shortening the leash and yanking them back to you is not going to hurt them and in fact is what you need to do if your animals being a nuisance in public. Jesus.
#anyway guess what we encountered like 5 of on our walk this evening lmao#man I’m not saying I react in a good way but if my dog lunges on the leash I am lunging right back in the opposite direction#fuck you you do not behave like that#@man walking after his tiny doodle while pleading the dogs name as it wheezed and hauled him across the street: ur a loser.
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Heartbreaking Goodbye.
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#poorly drawn mdzs#mdzs#wei wuxian#lan wangji#One has to appreciate the contrast between the two reunions.#Sorry Lan Zhan...You wanted peace but he's on the war path.#The bitter way they say each other's names is so good at showing the rift between them.#The miscommunication and misunderstanding...they truly needed a second chance to make the relationship work.#LWJ loses and continues to lose in these flashbacks. He is beyond his limit. The suffering never stopped for him.#Two more episodes of season two to go! My brain is not full of thoughts right now. Only excitement at the end of S2 approaching.
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Thinking about the way dungeon meshi does queer horror. Using horror to tell queer stories is already subversive, but dungeon meshi subverts it even more
Normal queer horror is like. A monsterous desire and immortal love of something isolated/hated and the uncontrollable but suppressed need to consume someone to live and they only die if you break/pierce their heart. its great.
In dungeon meshi, the group is STARVING. they do things the way they're expected to and they're so deprived that eventually, one of them is consumed by that monsterous desire.
Then when Falin becomes a monster, she doesn't eat Marcille because she doesn't NEED to, Marcille already offered herself up as part of Falin by mixing her own blood with the dragon's for the resurrection.
Also Marcille is a monster too!! She doesn't need to be turned by Falin. She's a 'witch' doing black magic for one but she's also very vampiric
Her name is super vampirey especially given one of the translation spellings was Marcilla, an annogram of Carmilla*. And Marcille is very similar to Marceline from Adventure Time so it's a name with heavy connotations to me. Also her staff is Ambrosia which means immortal.
*ps Carmilla is the original modern vampire that inspired Dracula and also a lesbian. she used annagrams of her name (Marcilla, Mircalla, Millarca) to disguise herself across hundreds of years.
Marcille is like. a vampire in that death is a big part of her theme. She can breathe that immortality into someone else using her resurrection black magic and death is a huge part of her character. She wants them to live as long as she does. To make them immortal. Like. Like a vampire. Vampires which are unholy when her love interest is a cleric.
But once again this is subverted!! she doesn't 'turn' Falin, she makes her undead by giving her own blood instead of taking Falin's. Falin becomes a monster not because she's attacked or turned, but because her DNA, something INHERENT about her is now intertwined with the monster. so a god-like figure merges them. Then the only way to free her from that frenzy and grant her autonomy again is to finally consume her. something inherently lesbian about all that i think idk about you
#grain of salt#im anime only so I don’t know if the eating her solution works#but whatever happens I BET it’ll work with this queer horror metaphor#dungeon meshi#delicious in dungeon#dungeon meshi analysis#farcille#falin touden#marcille donato#queer horror#lesbian vampires make me crazy#i have sooo much to say abuot the queer horror of this show#genuinely how does anyone say theres no romance or theyre not gay because. yeah its only implied but#if you have to make them kiss to prove theyre in love then theyre not really in love#you should be able to tell from implication and interaction and you DEFINITELY can with the way they talk about each other#'marcille.... her name is marcille' with that little smile. thats a girl in love#my posts
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#asoiaf#a song of ice and fire#valyrianscrolls#i feel like i see people bring up this line all tje time to criticize theon and call him awful but its like.#the most blatant obvious line where he looks in the camera and says Haha My Dad Would Beat Me and Call Me Names. Fathers Do That!#and its like. oh my fucking god i knowww . I KNOW people think hes annoying or a piece of shit and he is atrocious dont get me wrong but#hes literally the most blatant metaphor of how abuse can affect a person into who they are#like no shit sherlock he desperately wants the starks to accept him. his actual dad would fucking beat him and he got taken outta that home#and placed in a new one where like one guy liked him as a friend but everyone else was kinda cold#<- WOAH! a metaphor about the foster care system and the way it affects a person.#like fucking obviously he bends over backward to try to get the approval of his peers or have fatherly approval#What else did you expect. Why do you think he makes all those choices ramsay suggests to him about trying to#get the respect of all of his men. he doesnt want to lose the respect. like.#Okay. Done now thank you#grace post
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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.
#asks#the sandman#dead boy detectives#fic#crossover? fusion? i guess? who is to say! not me!#dreamling#perhaps some notes of chedwin#(a fabulous ship name btw. i may not get cob but i WILL get chedwin)#author wrote this while sick as dog so please excuse errors :')#might put on ao3 later if i have a chance to clean it up and expand on it a little!#my writing#me yesterday: 'i really don't see the appeal of blending both stories beyond doing it for the sake of it'#me today: 'no you don't understand they NEED each other here is my chart of the interpersonal dynamics and a list of all the ways hob can h#accidentally writing the new inn reunion scene i'd always dreamed of oops
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