#hotcocoabuns

[magnusbae]

If ever 1389 energy was put into words 

@hotcocoabuns​

[twottie-m8]

Hello! I’ve been trying to remember to send you a little message for weeks now, but I somehow keep forgetting. Today I went: now’s the time and I’m not doing anything else until I’m done! Anyhow, one of the main reasons I’ve been having such a hard time writing this, is that I’ve attempted to express my feelings for your art in words a couple times and they haven’t felt complete, somehow. 🤔 But now, I’ve decided this will have to be good enough!

About your Dream’s Birthday Party comic, my goodness, there is so much sweetness and loveliness poured into it. It was an absolute pleasure to read and wait for, and, although you say the ending was somewhat predictable, I was FLOORED when Dream pulled the engagement ring out. I felt like sobbing in a most positive way. 🥹💕 Everything about it was so funny and charming! The characterisation, Hob’s inherent sillines, the splash of colours from Delirium’s wrapping, the FERRET CUDDLING INTO DREAM, DREAM’S LITTLE “Oh!”, HOB CATCHING DREAM MIDAIR—IT’S GOOD, IT’S SOSOSO GOOD. 😭

I am, especially, madly in love with your Hob and Dream dynamic. It’s, hands down, one of my favourites. Dream constantly feels like a princess whose knight in shining armour has finally showed up and carried her to her castle with love and strength. He is… so soft and touch starved, I adore him and his expressions… And Hob. He looks so ridiculously whipped for this beautiful creature, he’d do anything for him, and he is so funny and sweet and silly about it. He’s marvellous and they’re adorable together. 😭😭🫶

This got long, I hope you don’t mind! But yeah, I love your dreamling art and hope to talk to you again. Have a fantastic day! 🖤

BRO???

I have never in my life imagined that a spur-of-the-moment comic could touch so many folks' hearts it brings me so much joy to see yall find comfort and entertainment in something I made for shits n giggles off-handedly.

Each detail I established in the comic came to be like this: what's the next part? -> sketch it out thinking of the bigger image -> oh we need to fill in details -> monkey brain says "haha what if we did this" -> then I go "what IF we did?? What is stopping us"

At least for the comic, I had imagined it taking place in a time where dream finds himself happy and content; his family is as made up as they could be, he's got his shit together and an immortal lover so devoted he waited 133 years unsure if dream was ever going to show up in his life again. This had definitely taken a part into how i characterized them for the comic! Think of it as a happy ending au or something lol

(^Although I say this, the setting of the comic can very much be open to interpretation! I would hate to spoil anyone's fun 😊)

My dreamling dynamic I think stems from the fact that I have not read the comics and so I don't really have a complete grasp of how they're supposed to be. Going off of what I've gotten from the show and the fandom, I kinda just went with whatever characterizations I liked. Although I'm typically someone who likes to enjoy consuming content/stories/franchises by starting at the very beginning source material, this has felt quite freeing to essentially just play around with these characters like they're barbie dolls.

I really do feel how far I've come as an artist and storyteller seeing the little kiddie fan I used to be in the people that squeal and cheer for each updated part and/or post, and that now IM the person that kid me would've looked up to online... it just hits a deep part of my heart haha

Thank you so much for the ask! It really means a lot to me 💕

[qqueenofhades]

I’m pretty disconnected with US and UK politics since I’m in another whole country, but your answers to asks about them keep popping up in my timeline. You’re like the professor that maintains their students engaged enough to interest them in asking questions. I think that’s pretty cool. Also, reading you explaining is pretty fun; although, I can’t really make sense of everything, lol.

As I said a few days ago, asking for a beginner-level crash course in American politics is akin to asking for a beginner-level crash course in nuclear physics, and let's not even get STARTED on the absolute car-crash clusterfuck that is the Brits, both right now and overall. So you definitely don't have to feel bad about not understanding everything, as many people who have actually been born and grown up in both countries don't understand it either. But I'm glad you're enjoying them and that they're making the rounds, so yes. :)

[fishfingersandscarves]

I am feeling absolutely deranged about your “I am asking you to endure it” poem dreamling rendition. Never has a more beautiful and heartbreaking thing graced my eyes, I feel sick, like I’m spiralling down ohgodohgodohgod

Your art is sososo perfect for this. You’ve done it, you’ve fully broken me. I’m very thankful.

Ahhh thank you very much 🙈💕

[magnusbae]

Tagged by @cuubism , previously known as single line game, now is: slap an entire paragraph in game. I swear it was a paragraph before I broke it down.

▾ ▾ ▾

He could create a dream to be her.

He could shape it out of sand, pour in every fragment of her memory, channel all that still lives of her within him.

He could create the perfect image of her being.

It would live and breathe... however.. — it wouldn't have her soul.

For all his power, he cannot reproduce those, he cannot create a human soul.

He can reshape its form in the dreaming, can manipulate and play and bend, yet he cannot create it, cannot make it out of sand.

He cannot remake Jessamy.

Wouldn't dare dishonor her in trying.

I'll just tag you back again so you post one more from a different au @cuubism, also @valeriianz , @hotcocoabuns , @notallsandmen

As always do it if you wish, it's all for fun 💕 if you do it though, please make in a new post 💖

[magnusbae]

hi! dropping in to tell you that I love your thoughts, how you write and describe dream and what you share with us. I want to talk to you about dreamling very bad. okthankyouthat’sallbyeee (lil’ goth heart for you 🖤)

This is the kindest thing I've heard all week 🥺💖

I appreciate you taking the time to message me and letting me know of such warm and lovely thoughts 😭💕

I find it most endearing when someone says they like one's mind/thoughts, I think it's one of the kindest things there is to say.👉🏻👈🏻

Always feel free to send me Dreamling asks heyyyyy it sometimes takes me time to respond bc of, well you know, life, but I LOVE interacting 💛🌻🐇

[wanderingcas]

5 and 17 for the ask game! Love you! ✨🫶🖤

5. what fic of your own won't you read?

any of them 😬 i just don't reread fics unless i'm editing them!! i'm shy!!

17. What’s the best engagement/interaction/feedback you’ve received from someone who’s read your work?

literally anytime it's a LONG ASS comment that takes me a good five minutes to read. but the one that stands out the most is something i screenshotted and unfortunately lost to the ether, but it's still in my ao3 inbox somewhere. they wrote me a long, in depth comment about how reading my fic got them through a difficult time in their life because it distracted them from reality, but also it resonated with them and made them feel less alone. will literally never forget it. it made me cry in a parking lot lol

[wordsinhaled]

N, your last drabble!!! Dream falling in love with Hob’s domesticity, with the humanity he brings out in him!! Craving these brief moments between them where everything’s soft and mushy and quiet and crispy warm. Dream slowly noticing how lovingly Hob looks up at him. Dream drowning in his presence, drowning in Hob. Falling in love in the tranquility of one another.

I WILL cry…

I KNOW... i am already crying, cocoa, FOR REAL

have some domestic flirting <3333

-

It must be, Morpheus thinks, a particular quality of the light that streams in through Hob’s kitchen window, that it catches in his hair and brings out the little amber flecks in each strand just so. This is something Morpheus has never before had the opportunity to notice. The sources of illumination in the White Horse Tavern were too low to ever lend Hob such radiance, and those in the New Inn too electric. It must be a peculiar quality of Hob Gadling’s, that he is best suited to being lit up by the sun. The way it softens his edges and sets his skin to glowing nearly makes Morpheus envious of how unreservedly it bestows Hob with its favor. Hob is washing up the breakfast dishes in the sink—an activity so mundane and tedious and small that the Morpheus of six centuries ago would have scoffed at the very idea of finding it engrossing. How much time in their fleeting eyeblink of a life, thinks that vestige of Morpheus idly, do people spend simply soaping and rinsing and drying dishes? Yet today he sits at Hob’s little kitchen table and feels abjectly fascinated by every detail of the act. Hob Gadling, he supposes, has more time than most to spare for such follies. Hob does not own a dishwasher. The sleeves of his buttondown are pushed up to his elbows, and his arms are shiny-wet up to mid-forearm, and his hands disappear into a mountain of white suds as he scrubs at the inside of a frying pan with a green wiry sponge. The room smells bright and clean, the lemon zest scent of the dish liquid catching and holding Morpheus’ attention as much as the roll of Hob’s shoulders does when he turns to place the rinsed pan aside to drip dry. Morpheus remembers too late that humankind tends to dislike the sensation of being observed. But Hob only slants a crooked smile at him when he notes that he is watched; only says, “See something you like?” Instantly Hob’s eyes widen the barest fraction, and squeeze shut, and Morpheus spies the shadow that passes in the next moment over his face. It is the same sort of shadow, the same drawing inwards, that he has noted sometimes comes over Lucienne when she thinks she may have said something that will surely be ill-received. Morpheus cannot fathom what has troubled Hob now. He considers Hob’s question with care. What is before him? There is the ease with which Hob grins at him. The glinting sunshine that follows the soft fall of his hair out of the haphazard bun. The dark patches of denim where Hob has just wiped his dripping palms on his thighs. “Yes.” Morpheus answers simply, and knows it to be the truth. “I see... much that pleases me.” “Oh,” Hob says, his smile widening to show a flash of teeth. “Alright, then.” There is surprise in his voice, and pleasure, and... something else Morpheus does not decipher. He has not read the daydreams of Hob Gadling in many hundreds of years. He will not begin now. But a flush blooms across Hob’s cheeks then to accompany his words, the staining red of poppies, and Morpheus finds he enjoys this as well.