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#johanna: wtf do i even wear to be a witness
moderndaypandora · 1 year
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Got tagged by @notallsandmen for a WIP paragraph game, and I’m incredibly flattered, considering ... this doesn’t feel on the level of fic, this is fun little sketches of dialogue at most. But this is what I had, so here’s more of the mortal dreamling silliness (previous bits: modern day mortal dreamling and newlyweds with ravens)
How Hob asked Johanna to be his witness for his wedding:
He texted her asking if she was free that afternoon, because he needed her for something.  Historically "something" has meant anything from "taste-testing 3 different scone recipe variations to figure out the best one" to "hustling drunk pricks at darts". Likewise, Hob has done her favors ranging from picking up tampons to providing an alibi. In theory there is a ledger of favors owed, but in reality there will never be a balancing of books (because they're best friends, even if Johanna is too prickly to admit it and Hob is too smart to).
Johanna texted back "yeah, what's up?", and practically broke a land speed record pressing "Call" when she got the response.
Johanna: what the fuck kind of text exchange is confirming I'm around and then sending "getting married today, hello, witness!" and a selfie of you and some goth twink?
Hob: it felt pretty self-explanatory
Johanna: last I'd checked, you weren't even seeing anybody!
Hob: things change?
Johanna: I got dinner with you 5 weeks ago, you bastard, and you were single then.
Hob: ... things change fast?
Johanna: how the fuck did you even meet him?
Hob: I was running back from class during that awful rainstorm last month, and he was just outside my tube station.
Johanna: Hob.
Hob: His umbrella'd broken and he was soaking wet, and he looked absolutely miserable, poor darling.
Johanna: ...
Hob: So I offered him towels and dry clothes, since my flat was just up the road. And by the time the rain stopped I knew I wanted to marry him, and he said yes.
Johanna: what lunatic just follows strange men home?
Hob: he was pretty suspicious until I gave him my phone so he could text my address to his sister.
Johanna: and she was somehow fine with it, like 'yeah, go on'?

Hob:
Hob: he got a bit distracted by my phone background and never actually texted her.
Johanna: the fuck
Hob: you know Julian of Norwich is gorgeous
Johanna: your cat is a lesser demon escaped from hell. I'm going to exorcise your cat someday
Hob: Jules is a sweetheart. She doesn't even hunt birds!
Johanna: That thing won't kill any of the bloody birds in your neighborhood because she's saving all her energy to someday murder me and you know it.
Hob: ... undeserved paranoia about my extremely photogenic cat aside --
Johanna: WELL-deserved!
Hob: --will you be my witness?
Johanna: Left it a bit late, if you're asking me today. Did everybody else say no?
Hob: Didn't ask anybody else. Been planning to ask you since Dream said yes, but I figured if I gave you too much notice you'd flee the country.
Johanna: [tearing up, because even if you're an independent badass, it's nice to hear you're somebody's person] you're fucking right I would.
(Johanna's custom ringtone on Hob's phone is from Sweeney Todd, the final verse in Johanna where you can hear the body drop ("Wake up, Johanna, another bright red day"), because Hob and Johanna are black-hearted bastards/absolutely in cahoots with each other and think it’s funny. Hob's ringtone is Being Alive from Company ("Somebody need me too much...").  Sondheim all the way, motherfuckers)
#dreamling#hob is a medievalist and he would name his cat after an anchoress#i don't make the rules except when i do#johanna: wtf do i even wear to be a witness#hob: idk nothing obviously bloody or stained?#johanna: mm. what are you wearing?#hob: khakis and a button up#johanna: not the high-waisted ones right?#hob: there is nothing wrong with them#johanna: you're going to look like the slutty professor wannabe you are#johanna: and i bet you're going to roll your sleeves up#hob mid-sleeve roll: can't i look nice for my future husband?#johanna: yeah nice. not Mr April from an Academia Gone Wild calendar#hob: ... how am i supposed to take that#johanna: as a suggestion to look like a respectable spousal candidate#hob: we got engaged on less than 24 hours' acquaintance#hob: there is no chance of respectability#johanna: jesus fucking christ#johanna: you're paying for all my drinks at the reception#hob: by reception do you mean at the pub afterwards#johanna: clearly you prick. and it's going to be decent liquor. none of that bottom shelf swill#hob: we are celebrating my marriage afterall#johanna: [groaning] text me the address and don't give me any shit when i show up with a flask#johanna: you absolute bastard#hob: <3#dream is 'sir not appearing in this sketch' because he had to go back to his flat and get his own appropriate clothing#and also provide proof of life and zero mental impairment to death#because she was still hoping it was a joke/she could talk him around to waiting longer
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