I Think Part Of The Reason I’m So Obsessed With MXTX’s Works Is The Way That Each Story Seems To

It’s about a month after their cosmic eldritch horror equivalent of a wedding that Hob finds out Dream has taken his name.

Of all places it’s in the New Inn the first time he notices.

“Coffee for you, professor, and a pack of sunflower seeds for you, Mr Gadling,” says the waitress.

Hob frowns.

“Sunflower seeds? I don’t think I-”

“I did,” Dream says, taking the package from the waitress to pocket it away. “Matthew’s become fond of it as of late,” he adds as an explanation.

“So that’s where half my trail mix disappeared,” Hob chuckles, giving a smile and an appreciative nod to the waitress before she left. It still takes Hob two more minutes for realization to dawn on him. “Wait did she just call you ‘Mr Gadling’?”

Dream stays suspiciously silent.

“And here I thought after ten years spending here the better half of my week they’d remember my face,” Hob muses.

“She does know your face,” Dream says, his lips pressed together tight.

“Then why— oh.” Hob’s eyebrows raise nearly to his hairline. And here he thought getting used to being called ‘your highness’ would be the strangest part of his marriage nomenclature-wise.

“It’s my name by the right of our union,” Dream says defensively. “Nonetheless if you’d rather not have humans call me that name-”

“No, no it’s fine,” Hob says (‘more than fine, actually’ a part of him thinks that forever stays that highwayman, unrepentantly greedy, who called Death a fool). “That is, if you don’t mind,” he adds (because in five hundred years he did have character growth).

“I don’t,” Dream says and that would be it.

Except now Hob starts noticing it everywhere.

The colleague asking him during a break how the new Mr Gadling fares, the little old lady from his neighborhood bringing some cookies for Mr Gadling because ‘he’s thin like a waif, the poor sweetheart’, even the postman delivering an ancient scroll ‘for Mr Gadling, he’s your husband, professor, isn’t he? Congratulations again, sir.’.

Eventually, it’s the incident with Mervyn that makes Hob snap.

“Um, Mr Gadling,” he says, making both Hob and Dream turn towards him. “That is you, Lord Morpheus, not you, professor. Lucienne wants to have a word with you if you have a minute to spare, your majesty.”

“Tell her I shall join her soon in the library,” Dream says, popping a joint into place with a gesture of his hand on a half formed creation Hob suspects will be a nightmare.

“Does it not bother you?” Hob asks once Mervyn left their quarters, a place that looked exactly like Hob’s flat except for the balcony that overlooked the sea (he found he did miss that sometime in his waking hours).

“A great number of things bother me. You need to be more specific, husband,” Dream says.

Hob huffs with fond exasperation.

“That they call you by my name.”

Dream’s dark eyebrows are knitted with confusion.

“Whyever would that bother me? You are mine and I am yours, after all, mind, body and soul. It’s only fitting my name to reflect that.”

“But- but you’re a king! A god!”

“I’m not a god, I’m Endless,” Dream interjects.

“Semantics,” Hob waves dismissively.

At that Dream turns towards Hob bodily, his eyes, preternaturally bright, intent on him.

“Semantics parse meaning of the universe. Words hold power, Hob Gadling, more than dreamt of in your philosophy. Never make the mistake of dismissing their significance.”

“I wouldn’t,” Hob counters, crossing his arms on his chest. “You, on the other hand, seem rather liberal in that respect as of late.”

Dream only raises an eyebrow and takes a single step towards Hob, feline, graceful and positively predatory.

“In what sense?” he asks, the depth of his voice sending a thrill down Hob’s spine (Hob’s a simple man and his husband is gorgeous, he can’t help it, even after such long time).

Hob gulps, his adam’s apple bobbing.

“You’re a king. You’re Endless. And yet you don’t mind everyone knowing you by a simple commoner’s name.”

Dream pouts.

“You are not simple,” he says, defiantly. “And one might say you haven’t been a commoner even before our union, Sir Robert Gadlen.”

Hob winces.

“You’ll never let me live that down, will you?”

“Maybe in another hundred years. Or two,” Dream amends, a smile curling on his lips and suddenly he’s standing close, so close Hob could count his lashes. “Through centuries I’ve been called many names. I am Dream by my nature, a King by virtue of my lineage and I was worshipped by many names humans created for me. But I am your husband, Robert Gadling by my choice only. I chose you and you chose me. If words and names define a man I’d rather let my affection for you define me than anything else in this vast universe.”

Hob stays silent for a while, his throat too tight to utter as much as a single word.

“Very well, Mr Gadling,” he rasps eventually and though words have never been Hob’s strength, judging by his husband’s smile he understands - after all, he knows Hob’s heart, he knows his dreams. “Lucky that I’m a professor, isn’t it?” Hob clears his throat and rubs his eye (something must have gotten into it). “Would be all terribly confusing if both of us were good ol’ simple ‘Mr Gadling’, right?”

Featherlight, Dream presses a kiss to his husband’s brow.

“It would be indeed,” he murmurs in Hob’s ear. “Lucky that I married up.”

Hob shakes with laughter.

Lucienne, ever sensible, knocks three hours later on the door leading to the royal quarters.

On the fifth knock Dream swans out in Hob’s tartan print house robe, his lips swollen red and his hair disheveled.

“Apologies for disturbing you sir in your— extracurriculars,” Lucien says dryly. “But there’s a matter that demands your attention, Lord Morpheus.”

“Mr Gadling.”

“Excuse me?”

“It’s Mr Gadling now, Lucienne,” Dream says, fixing the sash on the robe.

Lucienne suppresses a smile and gives him a subservient bow.

“Of course it is.”

praise (21pgs) - ft. doting uncles, a flustered nephew, & hanguang-jun ignoring a cry for help

Seguir leyendo

im late but happy vday everybody

fortunately i have stupid sexy little bitch disease so i never understand anything you guys are talking about

ignore any inconsistencies i am but a weak and feeble human

Douxie : when I was a kid, sometimes Merlin would ask "what do you think you're doing?"

Douxie : but that just meant stop. He didn't actually want to know my thought process.

Mi Binghe bb from hell

Hua Cheng layouts! <3

ー like/reblog if u save/use ★

HELP!! I transmitigated into my own novel and developed Complex Feelings for the SCUM VILLIAN!!! 

binghe fights sqh and he gives no indication at being powerful or with martial ability. he realises his mistake in approach. sqh makes himself small, pathetic, and easy to bully so that he is underestimated and ignored. fighting a PERSON will only increase that. well thats fine. mobei he's gonna toss ur human into a deathmatch against beasts rq ok? u wanna watch? if he gets too out of his depth you can step in he wont stop you but he knows you ALSO want to know what that little THANG is capeable of. nature doc mobei and binghe watching sqh in some demon forest. the wild qinghua, pressured out of its natural habitat. without greater predators to form symbiotic relationships with he must fend for himself. there comes the sunburst scorpion tailed bear goat- we shall soon see how the qinghua- OH HOLY SHIT HE RIPPED ITS HEAD OFF MOBEI YOUR SCRUNKLY RIPPED ITS GODDAMN HEAD OFF

THEYRE TAKING HIM OUT OF HIS NATURAL HABITAT AND SPYING ON HIM OH this is good

He didn't know he was capable of it either