#tell me there's a world where heartbroken hob gadling does not sniff that man like CATNIP and FUCK HIM FOR THREE DAYS STRAIGHT

[landwriter]

Hob just like love missing scenes?? do tell :)

He’s blond. That’s the first thing Hob notices, when the stranger - not his Stranger, just the lowercase sort, comes and sits down next to him. Thank Christ, he thinks, he couldn’t cope with some raven-haired beauty, not tonight. Maybe not for a few decades. Maybe he oughta move to, to bloody Finland or somewhere.

“Rough night?” asks the stranger. He sounds like a cowboy out of a Hollywood film.

Hob tries to smile and winces instead. “That obvious, am I?”

The man smiles. His teeth are white and perfect. He’s dressed in a cream suit and wearing coal-black sunglasses in the middle of the night, indoors. He’s the most American thing Hob has ever seen.

“Nah,” the lowercase stranger drawls. “I just wanted an excuse to come over. Drink to our troubles?”

Hob blinks. He’d started twelve hours ago with beer, which turned to wine, then whisky, then bitter disappointment and a cab ride here, and now more whisky, except it’s hideously expensive and he’s too deep in his cups to appreciate it. And he still knows he’s being hit on.

“Hob,” he says, and holds out his hand. The stranger takes it, and his grip is firm and cool. He momentarily forgets that he’s supposed to get a name in return. “What are you drinking tonight, mate?”

The stranger smiles again, long and slow this time, and lust slithers into Hob’s gut, settling comfortably atop the mess of misery below. “Well, whatever you’re buying.”

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all I've done for it so far! but really want to cover Corinthian's accidental use of Hob's "Life is so rich" line - here's my notes for the rest of this:

hob’s reaction, etc- his suspicion, smelling the death, wanting annihilation, knowing something is STRANGE about him. maybe even in earlier section - hob sensing he’s dangerous. poss the Corinthian offers a fake name. poss the name is like, randomly chosen, and a few minutes later hob notices it’s from a drink behind the bar, or on the cocktail menu, Usual Suspects style. immediately sobers up best he can. assessing situation, assuming he is a Dangerous Man, and thinking, perfect. a fuck and maybe a fight. then later, kissing, finding the dagger, and being honestly incredibly turned on, knowing he was right.

I think it could be a super fun and hot drabble and I really wanna jump into Hob's fresh-off-1989 mindset here because it's surely INSANE

#if you sent me a wip game ask i haven't answered congratulations am now desperately writing more so i've got something to share #<3<3<3 #the sandman #hobrinthian #the corinthian/hob gadling #hob x corinthian #like genuinely imagine the instincts hob gadling must have after 600 years #coupled with feeling forsaken by the only person who's known him that long #the still-fresh optimism of that day that dream will show up and they'll make up and BANG ??? hopefully? #and then he doesn't #he's gone #but here's a dangerous hot dilf who reeks of contradiction and is hiding secrets #tell me there's a world where heartbroken hob gadling does not sniff that man like CATNIP and FUCK HIM FOR THREE DAYS STRAIGHT #waiting for the sword of damocles to drop on him #pissed at dream for being so constantly opaque and taking it out on the corinthian #and channeling it into a secret he KNOWS he can call down and summon #if only every time he named the truth it could be thus fulfilled #my writing