Hob has to admit that, even though he tries to stay up to date with current trends, his taste in music never much got the memo. But that's always been the case. It is terribly annoying to get into something, twenty years after he could have had the live experience.
Or, in this case, fourty years. Though he had liked the music in the eighties well enough at the time.
It's Saturday morning and despite the mountain of housework he has to get through if he intends to find any of his stuff or dishes to eat from in the last week of exams, he is in a fantastic mood. The weather took a turn for cold and rainy but his flat is cosy and warm, he managed to find an unused cup to make himself some tea and a playlist with all the 80's hits is playing in the background.
Of course, this is not the sole reason for his good mood. It doesn't even cover a fraction of the reason why he looks like the sun's shining out of his arse at seven on his first proper day off in weeks.
Before Hob's never been one to remember much of his dreams. Ever since he and Dream were sort of dating (they hadn't discussed the terms and conditions yet, and as long as both of them were happy as is, he didn't feel the need to push the topic) that happened more and more. Just last night, he'd spent a part of his sleep walking with Dream through his realm, being shown around and introduced to a variety of creatures.
It had been utterly fascinating!
The best part though was that Dream had let slip, that he had been working more in the last days so that he might spend today with Hob in the Waking World. He knew that - aside from some housework - Hob intended to do nothing but laze around.
So of course he's in a good mood, belting along to a playlist that at least somewhat betrays his age. How else can it be?
(Hob had also noticed that the number of 80's songs circling the topic of dreams was surprisingly high. He had never noticed that before but now it made him think of Dream all the time, painting a big smile on his lips.)
It's his luck that the inn's still closed and no one is around for a noise complaint, because with questionable synth pop he gets through his dishes in record time. Cleaning the bath is done in a fraction of the time it usually takes him - only delayed by the thought if he could persuade Dream to relax in the tub together - and the feather duster that's no longer made of actual feathers makes a wonderful improvised microphone for his one-man interpretation of Sweet Dreams.
Which is, unbeknownst to Hob, how his own Dream finds him.
The song ends and Hob uses the brief interlude before the next one starts to actually dust off some of his books. He knows that one too, and he can't help but grin because of course it reminds him of Dream.
He stumbles over the first few lines until he catches the rhythm, swaying to it, moving on to the next bookshelf.
There's not a minute, hour, day or night that I don't love you
You're at the top of my list 'cause I'm always thinkin' of you
Further into the song, he's much more secure lyric-wise, and even though he knows his voice is croaky at best - missing the whiskey he uses to prepare for karaoke nights at the pub - he gives it his all.
Yes, Dream is absolutely on top of his list of things he plans to do today, even if that sounds a bit crude. And he has been thinking about him for the past two hours, his thoughts never straying far from the entity/man because as soon as his mind wandered to other things, the music in the background conveniently reminded him of his love.
Not that Hob minds. Quite the opposite actually. He just hopes his daydreams made it to his love's realm so that he might profit a bit from Hob's good mood.
He throws himself into the beginning of the chorus - a thousand kisses are most certainly not enough - spinning around to get to the next bit of his living room, when he finds Dream standing in the corner, watching him with a bemused smile.
Now, at this point, he probably should stop singing, but then again Hob's never been afraid to make an arse out of himself in the name of love. And he knows that Dream - even though he won't admit to it - loves cheesy displays of affection. The cheesier, the better, in fact, and Hob has had more than six centuries to practice.
So, non-feather duster repurposed to serve as a microphone again, he grins at Dream. Trying to get a laugh out of his love makes Hob do a very exaggerated and nearly indecent wriggle with his hips as the second verse begins.
He doesn't have to go to work today but that's neither here nor there as he yells at the top of his lungs:
Well, who needs to go to work to hustle for another dollar
I'd rather be with you 'cause you make my heart scream and holler
It does not elicit one of Dream's rare laughs, but Hob gets a fond shake of the head for his troubles.
Well, that won't do. He can be even worse and thankfully the chorus is starting again.
Only in socks, he slides across his hardwood floor, performing a spin that nearly sends him tumbling into his coffee table. Dream grabs him before Hob can hurt himself, and he uses it to immediately draw Dream into his arms.
The feather duster is quickly discarded in favour of holding Dream close and trying to get him to swing to the rhythm too. He's reluctant, but Hob's nothing if not stubborn, and not even - or especially - the collective unconsciousness can't withstand his charms, slowly beginning to move with him.
A thousand kisses from you is never too much
Hob croons along to the music, closing his eyes to really give it his all. When he opens them, Dream is smirking at him.
"Well, that really is not that much," he says with barely contained amusement.
"So you agree then?" Hob asks, his cheeks starting to hurt from how wide he's grinning. "I knew you were a smart one."
Before Dream can say anything along the lines of just how much knowledge he contains, Hob places a quick kiss on his lips. Might not be that much, but it's a start.
By then, the chorus has started up again, and he can belt the line that really makes him heady.
A million days in your arms is never too much
I just don't wanna stop
Dream crooks his head, looking at him with brightly shining eyes. As stoic as his expression might be, Hob knows what the slow twinkle in the starry eyes of his love means.
"You know that is more than two thousand and seven hundred years, yes?" Dream asks carefully, and even though he doesn't mention it out loud, Hob knows that there's a deeper meaning to the question.
He could question it, but he won't allow for either of their worries about doomed past relationships to ruin this perfectly good day that's about to get even better if he has a say in the matter.
"Yup," he informs his love carefully carding his fingers through the mess of black hair on Dream's head to pull him closer. "Still isn't enough though, love."
The kiss that follows borders on desperate. He isn't quite sure if this is Dream's doing or his own, but he hopes it gets his point across: What's two thousand and seven hundred years when he wants to spend eternity with this impossible being in his arms?
Hob's loved him for six centuries, what's twenty-seven more?
They break from their kiss mostly for his benefit so he can catch his breath, the blush high on Dream's cheeks nearly making him lose it again. The song's long over, the next one on the playlist is nearly done as well, but Hob couldn't care less. He's done cleaning and he wants to spend the rest of this day - and every single one that follows - holding Dream and kissing him.
His love doesn't seem to mind, safe for one request:
"Can we listen to it again?"
@karalynlovescake I offer you fluff to make up for the 80's angst from last time
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I honestly love the clothing styles of each of the turtles in this show and I love how these styles really incorporate their personalities as well.
Like, obviously Donnie has the best sense of style, yeah? Think that’s something pretty agreed upon here. Everything we see him put together is very meticulously crafted and clean. That goes with his personality because Donnie is a very meticulous person in general, and he knows what he likes very, very well, and knows how to flaunt it in turn. Him commenting on colors he enjoys or disapproving of outfits that the others see no problem with also shows how he just generally has an eye for this kind of thing. He doesn’t just know what looks good on himself, but also what looks good on others - and I think this ties into his love of gift giving too. Donnie also has a flair for making sure that his things have his “mark” on them, and his clothing is no exception. All that he wears and how he wears them screams “Donnie.”
Mikey is really fun because his styles are honestly a pendulum between super simplistic and incredibly out there. And often, you’re going to see a lot of color or patterns to both. And in my opinion I think that all reflects really well on Mikey’s character - he’s got a colorful personality but even more than that he’s incredible sure of who he himself is. Mikey’s style, I feel, is less what looks good as clothes and more what sparks joy in Mikey himself. His bright stickers he wears are a testament of that! He’s comfortable in his own skin and his style reflects this perfectly, whether he goes for a more out-there look or a more toned down one.
Now, for Leo. Okay, I think I’m actually in the minority here I feel because Leo’s style isn’t really that bad? Hear me out- if you actually look at what he wears, try taking out, like, one accessory. Suddenly, that outfit works! He even manages to put together many good outfits in the series, but his “bad” ones are the ones that tend to stand out, alas (just like how his mistakes tend to be big ones oop-) Basically, my personal look at him is not that he’s inept at styling at all, but that he has a “too much” gene. And like everyone else, this sense of style is completely like him, too. Going too far to impress when all he needed to do was slow it down some to think things through. (And funnily enough, a lot of his outfits take random aspects from his brothers too - “nothing without them” huh?)
For Raph, I feel bad for him since pretty much all of his clothes are inevitably going to be ripped, but he makes them work pretty much each time. Like Leo, Raph tends to go more sporty with his looks, but I also noticed that his stuff often goes in that in between of comfy, cool, and cute. His pajama suit in particular comes to mind in terms of “cute” as it’s more something you’d see younger children in rather than older kids, and I think it can be a subtle nod to the fact that for all Raph tries to seem older, he’s still just a kid too.
I could probably go on, but these are just all off the top of my head - I love how the boys’ personality’s come out in so many different ways.
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HOW CAN YOU HIDE THE MOST TRAGIC AU IN THE NOTES (hanahaki) AND NOT TELL US MORE
ok i will go into more detail.
post-war, obi-wan and anakin still have their training bond but obi-wan is under the impression that any day now, anakin will leave to be with padmé which obi-wan is totally fine with. he's so fine with it btw that at the end of a council session he's like hey i have an aob, it's time to sever the training bond between myself and anakin (to make it easier for anakin to leave the order)
and anakin (who has no plans to leave the order) was consulted 0% on this matter which leaves him fuming
and because it's such a thick and established training bond, the council calls in the healers to look at it first and one healer is like, so. everyone who is not obi-wan kenobi leave the room.
(anakin is dragged out by his ear)
and the healer tells obi-wan like. if we cut this, you're gonna die. cause the only thing keeping you alive right now through this very bad case of inoperable hanahaki is that every time your force signature weakens, your former padawan's force signature feeds you, essentially, life. to keep you going. cutting it would mean you dying within days.
and obi-wan is like. ok. cool. cut it tho cause it sounds like im a clingy parasite on anakin's life lol and that's like my WORST fear so snip snip please.
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