The LAYERS needed in a modern/human Dreamling au. Some level of Endless family dysfunction, obviously. Hob's family can be be dead or not, it's all good. Are they old enough to have individually gained the awareness they are off-puttingly intense and should hide it a bit at first, or still in that "no, why would I need to Elsa this" stage?
Option A is both of them trying to play it cool, like "don't scare him off" except they so badly want to go from zero to sixty.
(Death and Desire have ruthlessly drilled Dream with flashcards about how to react appropriately in situations.
Desire: it's your one-month anniversary, what do you do?
Dream: [hesitantly] NOT propose?
Desire and Death, conferring, because that's technically correct but the delivery was suspect.
Death, encouragingly: Good start. And?
Dream: a nice dinner and maybe a walk?
Desire: well done!
Death: and for a three-month anniversary?
Dream: give them a key to my flat.
Desire: [airhorn] NO. RED CARD.)
Option B makes them the classic anecdotal "my grandparents got engaged within seven days of meeting each other and still are happy together".
(Death, rubbing her temples: so you met this guy--
Dream: Hob
Death: -- Hob, and within 1 day you gave notice to the Registrar's Office and figured out the best day to get married. And Hob agreed to this?
Dream: NO.
Death: oh thank go-
Dream: Hob SUGGESTED this.
Death: . . .
Dream: are you going to be a witness or not?
Death, 29 days later in the Registrar's Office, to Hob's witness: Is he sane?
Johanna Constantine, drinking heavily from a large flask: unfortunately yes, by all legal definitions.
Death: fuck
Johanna: [passing the flask over] if your brother's even a tenth as intense as Hob, they'll be fine. Probably.
Death, brightening: Is Hob that bad?
Johanna: You know how sometimes you meet somebody and think "oof, they're a bit much, best give them a wide berth"?
Death: yeah.
Johanna: Hob's like a camouflaged hole in the ground of muchness. Except he's done the hole up all nice and he knows that sometimes you just want to be left alone in the hole to sulk and rattle the spikes for a bit, and occasionally get a F&M hamper tossed in.
Death: [hmmmmmmm'ing approvingly]
Johanna, morose: the bastard.
In the background, Hob and Dream are pressing their foreheads together and basking in each other's presence)
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Mini analysis/interpretation of the ‘you look good in firelight’ scene
Obi feels more comfortable in the dark - obscured from prying eyes - is more in his element. Relaxes and is less jokey and deflective, more honest. Shown in this scene with shirayuki and she must see him be like that a lot at night.
She finds his comfortable, natural demeanour attractive and that links with when he is lit by firelight.
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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)
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