Icon from a picrew by grgikau. Call me Tir or Julian. 37. He/They. Queer. Twitter: @tirlaeyn. ao3: tirlaeyn. 18+ Only. Star Trek. Sandman. IwtV. OMFD. Definitionless in this Strict Atmosphere.
“I know your arms, they are reaching out From somewhere beyond the clouds You make me feel Like my troubled heart is a million miles away You make me feel Like I’m drunk on stars, and we’re dancing out into space Celestial”
Starting to feel a little guilty at reblogging with more additions and thoughts on the original post, so branching out to a new “they’re absolutely insane as humans” dreamling post as an extension.
Dream: I’ve always had a great affinity for ravens and corvids in general.
(like that’s a thing normal people say when they’ve got two rescue ravens perched on their shoulders, preening their hair)
Hob: don’t I know it. my mum used to say I was her magpie, always drawn to the shiniest treasure. proven her right, obviously.
Dream: oh?
Hob: don’t get much better than you, love. I’ve seen pearls less lustrous.
Dream: [pleased]
Johanna, deeply disgusted and preparing to lob chips at them: we have TALKED about this.
Hob: don’t be petty, you know you’re going to bugger off with your secret little romantic heart nourished against the cynicism of the world for another month.
Johanna: you take that back right now or I’ll set you on fire.
Hob, cheerfully: you can’t, Jessamy stole your lighter.
Dream: oh, is that what she dropped in my collar?
Hob, kissing Dream’s palm: mhm, Matthew was the distraction. It was when he went for the butter knife.
Johanna, offended: you gave them bits of your sandwich meat after that!
Hob: have to reward that kind of cleverness. Coordinating teamwork with a decoy? Extraordinary.
