It wouldn’t be barricade day without a reminder that on this day in history all your faves died.
Exploration
Dreamling | Explicit | 2k
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“Are you… sure you don’t want me to touch you, too?”
Hob brushes light fingertips over the back of Dream’s hand as he says it. He is lovely, to wish to give so. And he is lovely where he lies back on top of the covers, head pillowed on one arm, hair loose across the pillow and bare chest gorgeous and tempting in the low light.
“You don’t have to,” Hob continues. “I just. I feel kind of bad.”
“I would like that,” Dream says. The phantom thought of Hob’s hands lingers over him; he can perfectly imagine how Hob would touch him, with strength and heat and surety. “But. Later. I wish to focus on… exploring you.”
He has been promised a chance to touch, to breach this wall that has not yet fallen with his curious hands. He has been wanting to, without true reason or allowance within the boundaries of friendship — and yet Hob allows him.
“Alright,” Hob says, “I’m not going to turn you down again.”
Dream settles on his knees by Hob’s hip, studying the warm tones of his skin. The bedroom lamplight is flattering on him, illuminating each curve of his body in gold. Everything is flattering on him, to Dream’s eye. Hob is the vitality of the universe condensed into a form he can touch, and it is overwhelming to hover his hands over those coals, but Dream carefully lays a hand on his chest anyway. Lets warm skin and coarse hair surprise and please him in a way little does.
He drags his thumb up over Hob’s collarbone. Hob had been confused, at first, when Dream asked simply to touch him, perhaps thinking it a precursor to more — but it is simpler than that. Dream has just been compelled by the sight of him; he watches the flex of Hob’s arms and back when he lifts crates of beer down in the inn, and the curve of his cheek when he smiles, his solid thighs, and strong brow, and the breadth of his chest under thin t-shirts. Dream does not want to delve through daydreams to understand outside perspectives on these matters — he wants to know what Hob’s body feels like himself, to be close to him for no other reason than just that.
He is not used to touching humanity so intimately, but Hob is one he would know.
Dream, the King of Dreams & Nightmares, who never makes any of his subjects attend his royal needs:
Hob, two minutes after learning of his dear friend’s status: would my majesty want to be hand fed some delicious grapes? A massage, perhaps? Your highness. Your royal excellency, the k—
Dream of the Endless & Matthew The Sandman 1.04 -A Hope In Hell
I am absolutely filled with adoration for people who leave comments on fanfic.
Bless you for your all-caps screaming and your keysmashing, I can spend days smiling like a goober in public places at the memory of it.
Bless you for your entirely needless apologies over commenting in a second language. I am so impressed by you! The most I know in any language besides English is how to introduce myself and maybe ask for the bathroom! You are so cool!
Bless you for coming out of your shell to comment when you’re nervous about doing so! Fanfic authors are a voracious species, but not a picky one. Even the smallest one-sentence comment is good food!
Bless you for quoting your favourite lines, or sharing some insight you gained into a character through the fic. It makes it so clear that you really read and absorbed all the little bits!
Bless you for noticing small details around world-building and setting and whatnot! It makes the googling worth it!
Bless you for commenting your own headcanons and ideas! They help me expand my own understanding of the setting and characters!
Bless you for writing your own fics! Get out there and put those characters in Situations™!
Aaagh I just…I love fandom so much, I really really do.
In before: The dash, which is how I personally use tumblr, is in chronological order from exclusively people I follow.
Disco Enjolras living in my brain rent free
Happy Ferdie Friday! Long time no art, aye.
FERDINAND KINGSLEY in SILO 1.06 “The Relic”
fuck it, I'm romanticizing underrated ao3 works now. 8,000 word fics with only 13 kudos, even after 5 months. multi-chaptered works with only 11 comments from the same 3 people and the author themself. incredibly specific works featuring OC's mingling with canon characters that only get 5 kudos. rare-pair fics. gift works that are literally ONLY for the receiver.
I love you stars. I love you planets. I love you moon. I love you galaxies. I love you space cosmos. I love you earth. I love you nature.i love you trees. I love you mountains. I love you forests. I love you waterfalls. I love you rivers. I love you oceans. I love you sunsets. I love you sunrises. I love you rocks. I love you books. I love you libraries. I love you museums. I love you music. I love you artists. I love you poets. I love you monuments. I love you history. I love you literature.
reader LIKED the fic? reader left thoughtful comment because they thought there was something worth analyzing? oh! oh! love for reader! love for reader for one thousand years!
professorgadling
hob gadling addresses the lemon demon allegations
1389 Hob, with an airpod in his ear: “þis shite bangyng, yow”
TOM STURRIDGE as Lord Byron in Mary Shelley (2017)
happy disco enjolras day to all who celebrate
#anecdote:#i bagged my husband through mutual love for musicals#and he only knew the French Sardou version of the musical#because this man is free of fandom spaces by some unknown miracle#and he had his ipod on random blast#and DISCOJOLRAS CAME UP#and the most naturally in the world i was like oh that's discojolras#and he went HYSTERICAL because that was the funniest shit to him#that people on the internet call it that#while that was the only version HE knew#les mis
