i love when tragedies are like “the love was there. it didnt change anything. it didnt save anyone. there were just too many forces against it. but it still matters that the love was there”
the absolute funniest plot of nbc hannibal is the fact that the fbi is looking for a serial killer that is highly skilled in evading the police and has been killing for decades in multiple countries, and then they hired a guy who showed up to work like this every day to catch him.
that ship is toxic to YOU. to me it's a complex, multi-layered, essay-worthy dynamic that'd take numerous hours to dissect (during which i'll spend crying screaming tearing my hair out)
Fandom: The Sandman
Pairing: Dreamling
Rated: G
Word Count: 1615
Tags: human AU, fluff, arts and crafts, crossover
Notes: For the @sandman-connect4 prompt Weave which is not the final space I needed but shh, I'll work on that next. This is in the Umbrella Boys universe, somewhere post-first-kiss but still early-ish in their relationship, and guest stars Gale from BG3. If you haven't read the rest of the Umbrella Boys, this can be read as stand-alone; all you need to know is that sharing an umbrella is their dating tradition, whether or not it's even raining.
Summary: Hob and Dream go on a date; Dream gets to meet one of Hob's friends
On AO3
"This class is taught by a colleague of yours?"
"Colleague and a friend, yeah." Hob scratches his chin, tilting the phone away so the sound of his nails through his stubble doesn't carry directly into the speaker. "He teaches astronomy here on campus, but he does some artsy classes at the community center. They're having an observer in to evaluate if the program is worth continued funding, and he'd like the class as full as possible to help with appearances." He spins his chair around, leaning back. "Thought it might make a nice date?"
"Will we be doing pottery? Painting?" Dream's voice comes through the phone, cautious but interested.
"Basket weaving, actually."
"Oh?" There's a little more interest, now, if Hob's not mistaken. Excellent. "I have never tried basket weaving, but I believe I might like to."
Silently, unseen, Hob pumps his fist. "Great! It's Saturday at one-thirty; we could meet up for lunch first if you like?"
"That sounds perfect." He can hear the little smile Dream is wearing. "Text me the details later; I know your next class begins shortly so I will not keep you."
"Thanks, dove. Talk to you later?"
"Of course."
Hob thumbs the 'end call' button, grinning happily. They've been properly dating for a little while now but every time he comes up with something new they can do that catches Dream's interest, it always makes him just a little giddy.
~
It's barely raining when they leave the cafe on Saturday; it's the sort of rain most Londoners wouldn't bother about an umbrella for, but they have a tradition to uphold. Dream tucks up close against Hob's side and Hob's umbrella covers them both as they stroll leisurely along the streets. Dream is uncertain where precisely the community center might be, and has no qualms in letting Hob lead.
"Your friend is a professor of astronomy, you said?"
"Gale? Yep. Been at UCL near as long as I have."
"How did he come to be teaching art and craft courses?"
Hob chuckles. "Ah, that's a question you'll have to ask him, and I'm sure he'll tell you if you do. Loves to share a good story, he does."
"A storyteller also?" Dream is hopeful that he will get on with this Gale; he would like to mesh well with Hob's friends.
"Oh yes. Especially if they're stories about himself."
Dream's optimism deflates a little. Something of it must transfer through his body language where he's pressed to Hob's side, because Hob laughs lightly. "Don't worry, he's not as obnoxious as I make him sound. A character, without a doubt, but a good bloke. I'm sure you'll like him and if you don't, we can always make an early escape."
"I trust your judgment." And he does; every date he's had with Hob so far has been a net positive and he is certain this will be the same.
They arrive at the community center precisely on time and Hob folds the umbrella away, shaking the dampness out of it first. There are several people there already, once they go inside and find the correct room; Dream is pleased to see that there are still open spaces available so he and Hob need not necessarily be squeezed in close to strangers.
"Greetings!" The man who speaks from the front of the room is remarkably attractive, longish hair half-gathered in a partial up-do, well-trimmed beard, warm smile and sparkling eyes, a dangling silver earring; he wears a deep purple button-down open well past his throat and tucked into tight jeans, a brown leather waistcoat unfastened over it. His shirtsleeves are rolled back to expose hairy forearms that are more toned than one might expect of an academic. His entire physique fills out his clothing in a way that suggests he does not spend any more time behind a desk than absolutely necessary, and Dream is already cataloguing every detail, suggestions of possible characters for future stories taking shape in his head.
The man's smile is broad and brilliant as he addresses the room. "I'm delighted to see so many new faces this afternoon! I? Am Professor Dekarios, of UCL—in my day job, at least. But this is not my day job, and you can call me Gale." He finishes his grandiose introduction with a flourish, face animated as he speaks. "Today, I shall be teaching all of you the wonderful and mysterious secrets of The Weave." He gestures broadly with his hands as he says it, enunciating such that the capitalization is unmistakable, and Dream wonders if perhaps his true passion was theatre before either astronomy or basketry.
He keeps wondering as Gale launches into explanation of the materials they'll be using and the basic components and terminology of this particular style of basket weaving. The man has a gift for speaking, animated in his instructional approach and extremely personable. He's dropped at least one cleverly-terrible pun so far and Dream can see, easily, why this man and Hob get on so well. He can imagine, as he follows instructions and sees a basket beginning to take shape beneath his hands, how charismatic Gale must be in the lecture hall with a captive audience.
They are halfway through the scheduled time, he and Hob chatting amiably over their growing baskets (Dream's is growing faster than Hob's), when Gale stops by in his rounds to see their progress.
"Hob, my friend! You made it!" His eyes turn to Dream, bright with interest. "And you have brought a companion!" He sweeps his gaze down Dream's body and back up, quick but unmistakable.
"'Course I made it, and yeah I thought it'd be a fun date." Hob puts the slightest emphasis on 'date' and Dream watches understanding flicker in Gale's face, flirtatious interest turning to ordinary charm in half a second. It's a fascinating shift. "Gale, this is Dream."
"Ahh, this is Dream!" A different sort of interest lights Gale's eyes, and his smile grows somehow warmer. "Hob has told me a great deal about you. It is a pleasure to meet you." Hob is fidgeting a little awkwardly but Gale pays him no heed, clasping Dream's offered hand and half-bowing over it in a courtly fashion. Dream is charmed despite himself.
"Likewise."
Gale smiles, broad and disarming. "And a pleasure to have you here today; thank you for coming! I can see you're already showing great talent with The Weave." He's released Dream's hand, turned his attention to the half-woven creation in front of Dream.
"It's very intuitive," Dream allows, picking up his in-progress basket to continue. "I am enjoying the process, and I believe I might like to do this again. Its almost meditative, and surely more practice will yield finer results."
"Ahh, indeed, for once you have tasted the magic of The Weave, you must return again and again in the attempt to master it."
Gale says this with the gravity and conviction of the wise old magician in a b-grade film, complete with a single wagging finger, and Dream feels his eyebrows lifting in bemusement. "I'm curious; why do you refer to basket weaving in that way?"
Gale chuckles, a little sheepishly. "I like to lend the craft an air of wonder and mysticism," he says, and Dream gets the sense that he's suddenly seeing a more straightforward glimpse of the man. "This is far from the most popular class on offer, after all. It's my hope that I can make the experience both fun and memorable for those who do sign up. Then, perhaps, they will recommend the class to others—or even return themselves."
"Well you're doing a marvelous job, in my opinion," Hob offers. "This is a lot of fun actually, and you've made it entertaining and easy to follow."
Gale glances between Hob's basket-in-progress and Dream's, which looks far closer to being a basket than Hob's does, and lifts an eyebrow with a smirk. "Easier for some of us than for others, perhaps."
"Hey now," Hob objects half-heartedly, while Dream ducks his head to hide his smile. "Some of us have talents that lie in different directions, is all."
"So long as you are enjoying the experience," Gale says with a grin, turning to move along to the next batch of students.
"Very much, yes," Hob replies, and Dream nods assent.
"I'm delighted to have you both here." Gale pats their table approvingly as he departs.
Dream ultimately finishes his basket before Hob, and spends the remainder of the class time assisting Hob with his—once Hob has admitted that the help would be appreciated, of course. When the allotted hours are up, they pack away their finished projects to survive the trip home and bid Gale farewell before heading out into drizzly late-afternoon London, Hob's umbrella keeping the worst of it off them both.
"It was lovely to meet your friend," Dream says, and means it.
Hob chuckles. "I'm glad."
"And to learn that you speak of me at length to your colleagues."
"I. Well." Hob shrugs a little awkwardly. "I do tend to be a bit chatty, and I've had a lot of fun on our dates so naturally you come up in conversation at work. I'm glad you don't mind."
"It's flattering, truly."
Hob shifts his grip on the umbrella. "I hope Gale wasn't too much?"
"Not at all." Dream snuggles closer against Hob's arm. "A character, as you said, but ultimately a charming one. In fact, I am definitely putting him in my next book."
Hob laughs, long and loud, and Dream smiles softly as they stroll on through the misty rain toward the bus stop that will see them home.
This is where I admit that I have never played BG3 or any DnD and all my knowledge is via friends and dashboard osmosis. But if you know even less than me and the joke didn't land: Gale is a wizard in his own canon and The Weave is the main magical force he manipulates in spell casting. This was the first thing that came to mind for the prompt and it insisted on being written. Hopefully it is at least worth a chuckle.
came up with something today i call it evilshipping, its when your two fuckos hate each other so much and want to kill each other or die trying. that's it there's no catch
be each other's worst enemy, bitter rivals with no twist and zero affection. the ship part comes from the joy of seeing them go on great journeys and lengths out of spite and anger specifically to attack the other person. hate, let me tell you how much i've come to hate you since i began to live
i find it very satisfying, the chase and the increasing intensity of the fury driving each person. it heats up and results in untold destruction to each other, other people, people they don't even know, collateral damage they can't see beyond the haze of battle
there is no moment of humanity there's just maniacal single-mindedness ramping up into a star death. they don't learn to love each other they learn to hate any part of them that feels compassion until they become evil incarnate and start kicking puppies because they can't become soft when it comes to this other person. the slippery slope into all-consuming passionate hate. maybe only then at the end of all ends is there a moment of brief, flashing recollection of who they used to be, and the regret of ruining their lives over one, single other person. but i don't want to leave any room for reformation or apology because otherwise that's just enemies to something less, this can't go any less than enemies to a big, cold brick wall.
like i see no room for hatefucking either it's viper venom on the end of a 1000 degree steel rod covered in superglue or nothing. frothing, seeing-red, bloodcurdling, spirit-souring hatred. or bust.
Something that I often see people using interchangeably are the words "rivals" and "enemies" . I think these roles are actually relatively different from one another, though, and I've compiled a short list as to why.
1. Hatred vs Competition
Rivals are often more driven by competition than they are by hatred or anger, whereas enemies usually hold genuine contempt for one another. A lot of the time, rivalry is a very situational dynamic. Characters can be rivals in one context and friends in another without this being a conflict of interest. Enemies is much less situational, and unless it is a performative dynamic that the characters take part in, usually it will follow the characters through other situations.
2. "I couldn't care less"
Rivals often tend to care about each other's opinions more than enemies do. This stems from the competitive aspect of the dynamic. In order to want to appear better than someone, you yourself have to find their status to be impressive. Enemies can definitely exhibit a certain level of interest in besting one another, however that isn't necessarily an essential part of their dynamic. Unless it's an enemies to lovers story, oftentimes enemies do not care as much about impressing one another as rivals do.
3. Proximity
Rivals are more likely to willingly spend time around one another. Unless it is through forced proximity, enemies don't tend to seek one another out (again, this doesn't so much apply to enemies to lovers). Rivals are usually more inclined to feel positively about one another as people, whereas enemies usually find one another to be unbearable as people.
I'm sure there are other things that I haven't mentioned. If you think of anything you want to add please feel free to do so!
The rain is coming down hard and unrelenting. The roads are muddy and slick, unlit and miserably cold. You are aimlessly seeking shelter when none but your nemesis stops beside you.
"Come to gloat?" you shout over the rain.
"Always," they call back with a smile. "Looks like you need a ride."
Your teeth are chattering. Your head is pounding. Your clothes are sopped.
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