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sorry but if you didn't want me to think these idiots are in love then you shouldn't have given this line such a fruity delivery

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"Did I get this far for nothing or are you the reward?"

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Hey so do people usually look at their friends like this

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The Sandman + text posts part 5/?

Meme master post

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Delirium and her sundial 🐠☀️

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Ineffable tutors! Mr Cortese and Mr Harrison wrangle with Maths…

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It's impressive how Neil Gaiman vanished from the internet. Wish Rowling would do the same.

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ALRIGHT A FEW THINGS:

- your homeland is being ripped apart and you’re straddling dream trying to choke him pack it up gay boy

- I bet it feels really good to choke out your abuser so I get it

- IS THIS CORI’S APARTMENT????? DOES HE HAVE A HOME?????????

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average day in the dreaming being undermined by an american bird 😔

god i miss these guys

hmm maybe i should make an art blog ;-;

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hmmm 2 + hob?

"Oh, take me back to the night we met"

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Hob Gadling as a husband is vastly different than Hob Gadling as a boyfriend.

Dream had known this vaguely- held old memories of how things settle after marriage, how arguments become commonplace with contentment, how people grow out into the reassurance to become different people.

What he wasn't quite expecting was the certainty.

He had no idea how much Hob was holding back in their courtship- or how insecure he must have felt, perhaps, to be so reserved. Dream had done his best to assuage the other's idiocies as they came up- why there was surprise that he would never choose to deal with this and that latest sycopanth when he had been tipped off that his husband was waiting for him at home in new clothing, he still doesn't know- but there annoyingly still seemed to have been hidden trepidations that he couldn't root out.

But proposing marriage seemed to have thrown all of this out of the window. The hidden steel-backed spine that Hob has had to prop him up all these years shines through much more freely now, and Hob is less and less afraid to show it.

("If I'd known how much you'd change if I married you," He'd snarled during one of their worst fights. "I'd have thought better of it."

Hob had put his hands on his hips. "Oh, is that what we're doing now? Alright, then." He'd poked his right hand into Dream's chest roughly, then held it out, one eyebrow raised. "Take the ring off then. No, you want a fucking divorce, take the damn ring off yourself, Dreamlord. Go ahe-"

"That's what I thought," Hob had said with due smugness 48 hours later- as was his right- as he slipped coffee and held the newspaper up for both of them. Dream hummed, curled in his lap and idly tracing his fingers over the many bruises over his husband's neck, and privately congratulated himself for the stroke of luck he finally seemed to have found, winning over a man who both loved him and liked him.)

"If you can't handle even the land parcel you currently have without Dream having to intervene every decade," Hob snaps now, crossing his arms as he glares at the Weavers of the Sa-Inaa'l galaxy. "How do you even have the audacity to ask for more?"

They hiss at him, raising their mandibles in threat. Hob raises an eyebrow back.

"It is not enough for our Weavers," The Elder says, voice even. "We cannot sustain on what we have."

"Not enough for your Weavers, or not enough for your greed?" Hob shoots back. "I've heard that the Sa-Inaa'l is being patronized now by the Western Forces. Just because you're willing to whore out your ancient art for money-"

"We do business with the Dream King, peasant ape," One of them snarls, banging a fist on the table. "We do not bargain with the likes of you!"

"Mind your tongue," Dream says mildly. "He is my husband in my ways, his ways and yours. Also, he is older than most of you."

"He is not even of royal blood!" The Elder bursts out, the first show of emotion from them that Dream has seen from them since they were a juvenile. "Surely this is unbefitting of your station!"

"Oh, because you're so befitting of yours. How much have you lost in profit within one year again?"

"You are out of place!" One of the younger ones shouts. It is amusing as always when they look Dream's way after saying it, as if Dream is in any way capable of putting Hob back in any places whatsoever. Dream is lucky if he gets Hob to listen to him once a week. Dream has not won a single conversation about food since the rings slid onto their fingers. They are quite satisfied with this setup, overall. "You are nothing but filthy peasant scum."

"Filthy peasant scum who is right about his information," Hob snaps. "Don't think we don't know that you're trying to distract us from the topic. Also fuck you."

Dream stirs and stops admiring the pitiful expressions on the Weaver's faces- honestly the farmer's market suffer his husband more than they are, the dramatic things- to look over at his husband, frowning at the last bit. He cannot decide whether that was hurt or frustration. Better not to take the risk.

He stands. "As entertaining as this has been," He cuts into the shouting. "My husband is correct. You will not receive any more land than you have. Also- my consort is worth a hundred generations of your Elders. Do not try to ever say or imply otherwise, or I shall make you regret it."

They are all cowering in the corner when he is finished speaking. He dips his head in dismissal and they shakily bow and scatter out.

Hob huffs as he watches them go, scowling. Dream drifts over and presses a kiss to his cheek. "I hope you don't believe their words, lover."

"I stopped feeling insecure about this whole prince thing the fifth time you shoved me into a scratchy outfit, ducks," Hob replies. He softens as he turns to Dream, and kisses his cheek back. "Don't worry."

"I worry," Dream returns. "I love you."

Hob smiles. It is not as wide and awe-filled as it used to be, and Dream feels pleasure hum in his throat at the sight of it. "I know."

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Hob Gadling as a husband is vastly different than Hob Gadling as a boyfriend.

Dream had known this vaguely- held old memories of how things settle after marriage, how arguments become commonplace with contentment, how people grow out into the reassurance to become different people.

What he wasn't quite expecting was the certainty.

He had no idea how much Hob was holding back in their courtship- or how insecure he must have felt, perhaps, to be so reserved. Dream had done his best to assuage the other's idiocies as they came up- why there was surprise that he would never choose to deal with this and that latest sycopanth when he had been tipped off that his husband was waiting for him at home in new clothing, he still doesn't know- but there annoyingly still seemed to have been hidden trepidations that he couldn't root out.

But proposing marriage seemed to have thrown all of this out of the window. The hidden steel-backed spine that Hob has had to prop him up all these years shines through much more freely now, and Hob is less and less afraid to show it.

("If I'd known how much you'd change if I married you," He'd snarled during one of their worst fights. "I'd have thought better of it."

Hob had put his hands on his hips. "Oh, is that what we're doing now? Alright, then." He'd poked his right hand into Dream's chest roughly, then held it out, one eyebrow raised. "Take the ring off then. No, you want a fucking divorce, take the damn ring off yourself, Dreamlord. Go ahe-"

"That's what I thought," Hob had said with due smugness 48 hours later- as was his right- as he slipped coffee and held the newspaper up for both of them. Dream hummed, curled in his lap and idly tracing his fingers over the many bruises over his husband's neck, and privately congratulated himself for the stroke of luck he finally seemed to have found, winning over a man who both loved him and liked him.)

"If you can't handle even the land parcel you currently have without Dream having to intervene every decade," Hob snaps now, crossing his arms as he glares at the Weavers of the Sa-Inaa'l galaxy. "How do you even have the audacity to ask for more?"

They hiss at him, raising their mandibles in threat. Hob raises an eyebrow back.

"It is not enough for our Weavers," The Elder says, voice even. "We cannot sustain on what we have."

"Not enough for your Weavers, or not enough for your greed?" Hob shoots back. "I've heard that the Sa-Inaa'l is being patronized now by the Western Forces. Just because you're willing to whore out your ancient art for money-"

"We do business with the Dream King, peasant ape," One of them snarls, banging a fist on the table. "We do not bargain with the likes of you!"

"Mind your tongue," Dream says mildly. "He is my husband in my ways, his ways and yours. Also, he is older than most of you."

"He is not even of royal blood!" The Elder bursts out, the first show of emotion from them that Dream has seen from them since they were a juvenile. "Surely this is unbefitting of your station!"

"Oh, because you're so befitting of yours. How much have you lost in profit within one year again?"

"You are out of place!" One of the younger ones shouts. It is amusing as always when they look Dream's way after saying it, as if Dream is in any way capable of putting Hob back in any places whatsoever. Dream is lucky if he gets Hob to listen to him once a week. Dream has not won a single conversation about food since the rings slid onto their fingers. They are quite satisfied with this setup, overall. "You are nothing but filthy peasant scum."

"Filthy peasant scum who is right about his information," Hob snaps. "Don't think we don't know that you're trying to distract us from the topic. Also fuck you."

Dream stirs and stops admiring the pitiful expressions on the Weaver's faces- honestly the farmer's market suffer his husband more than they are, the dramatic things- to look over at his husband, frowning at the last bit. He cannot decide whether that was hurt or frustration. Better not to take the risk.

He stands. "As entertaining as this has been," He cuts into the shouting. "My husband is correct. You will not receive any more land than you have. Also- my consort is worth a hundred generations of your Elders. Do not try to ever say or imply otherwise, or I shall make you regret it."

They are all cowering in the corner when he is finished speaking. He dips his head in dismissal and they shakily bow and scatter out.

Hob huffs as he watches them go, scowling. Dream drifts over and presses a kiss to his cheek. "I hope you don't believe their words, lover."

"I stopped feeling insecure about this whole prince thing the fifth time you shoved me into a scratchy outfit, ducks," Hob replies. He softens as he turns to Dream, and kisses his cheek back. "Don't worry."

"I worry," Dream returns. "I love you."

Hob smiles. It is not as wide and awe-filled as it used to be, and Dream feels pleasure hum in his throat at the sight of it. "I know."

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happy belated dreamling day!

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Happy Dreamling day!!!!!1

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Happy "Hob Gadling and Dream of the Endless meet at the White Horse Tavern" Day to all who celebrate ❤️

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I took too long in this !! Do lucifer (comic) fans still exist… plz interact