I broke
40 days
That's how many days left until season 7 premiere of 9-1-1. Just 40 days until my blorbos come back from war.
And I couldn't hold out
We're at least 2 years away from season 3 of Good Omens and probably 9 months away from season 3 of Heartstopper. Yes I am doing splendidly thanks for asking.
I couldn't take it anymore and started a new show, my brain need a new hyperfixation
Like an idiot, I chose Hawaii 5-0 because what could be better than a 10 season show ?
I'm 10 minutes into the first episode and already I'm putting clown makeup on 🤡. I swear I cannot get my brain to quit shoving dudes together. I seriously think I'm just lowkey delusional at this point
It's honestly so embarrassing of me but also they are gay. Gay
Sorry, nothing could get you to stay to run this operation ? Not even a task force to find the man who killed your father ? Not free reign over EVERYTHING ? PASS ?
But a hot hunk of man point a gun at you and suddenly you're interested ? Something (someone) changed your mind ? Gay
Oh what's that ? He's blond and buff and competent ? Oh he's witty ? Oh he's also bratty and you want to push him against a couple different surfaces ? Gay
Oh you feel like he can step to you and he's not interested in buttering you up or listening to you but obviously still respect you? Gay
Oh he had your back and saved your life ?
And as the petty ass man you are you "appointed" him your "partner" ?
Shameful Mr.Mcgarret
Shameful
But also I woulda done the same
Now if I had a nickle for every show a hard, jaded brown hair brown eyes soldier was suddenly captivated by a blond bimbo (affectionate), I'd have two nickles (scratch that 4, forgot about GO and OFMD), which isn't a lot but it's strange that it's happened twice.
Anyway, imagine how unsurprised I was when I curiously looked on Tumblr to see if the two dudes from 5-0 was a hot item and saw this tag with thousands of people :)))
I guess this is my humble request for the McDanno fanbase to accept me as one of their own.
I promise to bring much delusion
Thanks for coming to my Ted Talk.
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A heist for a crown for a king? 🤔👑
yes. dream deserves a crown. dream insists he doesn't need a crown, everybody knows he is king. also he has his helm. hob says how many times i gotta tell you it's not about NEEDING it. it's about how fucking sexy you'll look. that's the priority. also you deserve it.
dream is still flummoxed.
may i propose a DREAM heist for a DREAM crown.
--
Hob was... definitely going to get in trouble for this.
"We're definitely going to get in trouble for this," said Matthew, perched on his shoulder. He tittered nervously. And Matthew was one of the most ride-or-die people-- birds?-- Hob had ever met, so this was not a good sign. "Like. Getting my wings cut off trouble."
"He's not going to cut your fucking wings off, Jesus Christ," said Hob. He crept through the dreamspace, keeping to the shadows so as to try to avoid alerting the dream itself to their presence. "Drawing and quartering is a lot more entertaining."
"HOB. What the fuck." Matthew's claws dug into his skin like he really did mean to separate Hob's arm from his shoulder.
Hob shrugged. "Didn't live through 'ye olde medieval times,' as you put it, for nothing."
"I didn't call it that."
"Yeah, you did. That's what I get for agreeing to watch A Knight's Tale, I suppose."
Matthew squawked. "It's a good movie!"
"It was a good movie right up until it managed to convince you that "We Will Rock You" was actually sung at jousts," said Hob.
"In my defense--" started Matthew, then clacked his beak shut. "Nah, actually, I don't have a defense for that. I must have been totally sloshed."
Hob snorted. "Oh, you were."
"Well, who decided it was a good idea to feed Bailey's to a raven?"
"There was no point at which I thought it was a good decision," said Hob. He couldn't help his grin. "I just don't mind making a bad one."
"And here I thought we were friends."
Hob slipped through a doorway, ducking around the next corner. The dream castle was significantly more winding than a real one. It was slow going.
He started humming to himself, an incongruously jaunty old execution ballad. "His quarters stand not all together, But ye mai hap to ring them thether..."
"I'm begging you to stop," said Matthew. "Has anyone ever told you that you have a serious problem?"
Hob laughed. "Many times."
A small group of people -- figments of the dreamscape -- strode around the corner. Hob ducked into a tiny alcove, one which hadn't been there before he'd thought of needing it. He was gradually getting better at manipulating the Dreaming.
And his heart was hammering. Dream theft or not, it was thrilling.
"Never thought I'd be part of fucking Inception," grumbled Matthew, peering to see if it was all clear.
Hob crept back out into the hall and up a spiral staircase. "This is way more fun than Inception."
"And way more dangerous."
"You loved the last outing!"
"Yeah, that one didn't involve sneaking around in my boss's subconscious."
Hob rolled his eyes. "It's not Dream's subconscious." Finally at the center of the absolute maze that was the castle, he spied his prize, and slipped right through the bulletproof glass to get at it. On a stand at the center of the room sat the most gorgeous tiara, a winding thing of diamond leaves and ruby berries. He grinned. "It's the Princess's."
He swiped the thing from its stand, leaving a weight in its place for the pressured alarm he was sure still existed even in a dream.
"Dream is the Dreaming, dude. We're gonna get caught."
"Well, that's why you're here, isn't it? It's normal for you to be in dreams, it's not for me. You're my cover. You'll make it way less likely for Dream to--"
And they were yanked from the dream.
"Drawn and quartered!" Matthew squeaked, and then they were standing in the throne room.
Dream was, of course, standing a few steps up on the grand staircase, glaring at them. Glaring at Hob, really. Matthew squawked again in fright, puffing up his feathers. Hob just grinned back at Dream.
"When I gave you free run of the Dreaming," Dream started, some of the menace Hob had heard him use with rogue nightmares on display, "this was not what I meant."
Hob wasn't afraid of Dream, though. Never had been. "Don't take it out on Matthew," he said. "Wasn't his idea."
Dream's stormy gaze flickered over to Matthew. "Matthew, you are dismissed. I will deal with you later."
Matthew didn't need to be told twice. He winged away out of the throne room, calling back, "Good luck with getting drawn and quartered, Hob!"
Dream raised an eyebrow. He still looked dreadfully unamused. "Drawn and quartered?"
"We've watched too many medieval movies," Hob explained.
"Ah." His gaze found the tiara clasped in Hob's hand. "What, exactly, is that?"
He obviously knew. It was made of dream stuff, after all. Still, Hob knelt and held it out to him. "For my liege."
Dream strode down the few steps separating them, fluid as water streaming over a fall, his long cloak trailing behind him. Majestic creature. Majestic king. Did he really expect Hob to be at all normal about it?
Dream plucked the tiara from Hob's hands. He tilted it back and forth. The light through the stained glass illuminated it in every color imaginable and cast refracted rainbows on his face. "You stole it from a dream."
Hob flashed him a crooked grin. "Guilty."
Dream tipped his head up with one fingertip under his chin, until Hob's neck was craned back and he was meeting his gaze. "That," he drawled, his eyes flashing dark, "is very disrespectful."
"Oh, yeah?"
"Yes." Dream didn't release Hob's chin; if anything, he leaned closer so Hob had to look up even further. "Did you think you would not be caught? Creeping around in my halls?"
"We'll, I'm very good," Hob said. This was hardly the first thing he'd stolen for Dream, though it was the first one he'd attempted in the Dreaming.
"Or perhaps," continued Dream, and the darkness in his eyes looked hungry, now, though no less dangerous. "Perhaps, you wanted to be caught."
Hob winked at him, cheeks heating. "Well. I may be good, but I could hardly expect you not to feel it when it's your skirts I was rustling under."
"Is that what you were doing?" Dream swept his thumb along Hob's lip, dipping into his mouth. "Fiending for punishment?"
"Just trying to please my lord. Are you pleased, my love?"
"That is not quite the word I would use, dearest one." A sharp smile was creeping its way onto his lips, eyes burning with a dark warmth, like smoldering coals.
He placed the tiara on Hob's head.
Shadows dripped from it, falling over Hob's shoulders and back. Dream's hands lingered at Hob's temples, stroking his hair back behind his ears.
"Devoted one." His voice rumbled pleasantly through Hob's body, and Hob shivered. "Mischievous one. What am I to do with you?"
"Only whatever you want," said Hob, leaning into his touch. "As usual."
"Hmm. I think..."
Shadows fell around the throne room, dropped from the ceiling like banners and speckled like blackened stars. Hob knew those shadows, knew the way they were meant to intimidate though they did nothing but make him want more, make him hungrier, make him want to hold Dream close in every meaning of the word.
And he knew that bright darkness in his lover's eyes, too. The sky during an eclipse.
Dream drew him back to his feet. Hob stumbled in so they were a breath apart.
"Whatever prize you were seeking when you embarked on this foolhardy task?" Dream hummed, just before pulling Hob in to meet his lips. "I think you should claim it."
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