Tumgik
#idk whos the uke
gonchillunchis · 2 years
Photo
Tumblr media
me when overprotective history eater beast mode gf
372 notes · View notes
ynnu-64 · 3 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Chainshipping x Dr.Who crossover
549 notes · View notes
plaguedpriest · 4 months
Text
Tumblr media
gabito :)
312 notes · View notes
cuubism · 9 months
Note
I have been absolutely loving Bookstore Cryptid Dream! Offline life got rough for a bit there, but this little universe never failed to make my heart happy. Thank you - and I hope you're planning on more!
i've indeed had one in my drafts so i finished it up for you :)
--
Hob has been waiting with equal parts anticipation and trepidation to find out exactly what ideas Dream will pull from his romance novels. He still hasn't figured out why he picked romance novels as his manuals. Maybe he needs his sex positions to have narratives. Maybe he's into roleplay. God.
But Hob doesn't get to find out.
He's been busy for a few days--new term at the local uni starting up means the cafe's suddenly gotten busier--and while Dream's popped in and out a few times, they haven't had the chance to spend much time together. It's probably good, Hob tries to convince himself. Puts the brakes on things, just a little.
But when he finally gets a break, hands the reins over to his staff for an evening, he heads to The Library. Even if Dream is busy with his own tasks, Hob's content to just sit in his space. Listen to his stories. It's not something the busy cafe environment usually allows, but The Library is like an alternate world, cool, quiet, and timeless.
Hob strides up the steps and opens The Library door.
And there's nothing inside.
It takes several moments for his tired brain to comprehend what he's looking at, and several more for him to decide that no, he's not dreaming. He steps through the doorway into a dim, empty room, old wood-paneled walls and dust gathering in the corners, and no infinite winding paths of shelves like in Dream's bookshop. Just a shell.
Hob presses his palm to the wall. It's cool, and smooth, and very much real. Not some mad hallucination of his, this empty room.
Blinking hard, Hob steps back outside, closes the door again, as if that might change things. Opens it again. Same room. Does it again. Same room. He calls out into the empty bowels of the once-Library: "Dream!"
No answer, of course.
Hob had known that The Library had a sort of magic to it. But just vanishing into thin air...
And Dream wouldn't...
...would he?
Hob spins in place on the stoop, looking out on the darkened street which suddenly feels so much more eerie. He steps down to the road in a daze, looking around as if The Library might suddenly appear in another doorway. Resists the urge to yell Dream's name into the darkness.
And then, well, fuck it. "Dream!" he calls. All that echoes back to him is his own voice.
Hob sits down on the stoop, defeated. If he hadn't seen Dream just yesterday, kissed him on his way out of the cafe not twenty-four hours ago, he really might have started to think he'd hallucinated all of this. Invented someone he'd wanted to know.
But he didn't invent Dream, he swears he didn't--so then where is he?
Hob doesn't sleep much that night. He doesn't do much of anything else, either--it's not like Dream left a note to track him down, or any evidence of his existence. It's not like Hob can put up missing person posters: have you seen this bookshop? Or force it to reappear.
He's having a very sleep-deprived, very over-caffeinated morning shift in the cafe, contemplating how long one's not-quite-human not-quite-boyfriend needs to be not-quite-missing before it's reasonable to start finding out which parts of London harbor demons and sorcerers--when a man he's never seen before stops at the counter, hands folded before him, and says, "Excuse me, but do you know if there's a bookshop around here?"
Hob has never seen anyone else ever go into The Library or even acknowledge its existence, and Hob's anxiety is so high that he almost leaps over the counter to grab this man by the collar and demand, what do you know about Dream?! Fortunately he belays that impulse. This stranger really does look almost laughably harmless and definitely not like a demon or sorcerer, not that Hob's seen one--and getting arrested for assault is not going to help anything.
"I tried the door," continues the stranger, as Hob just keeps staring at him, conflicted, "only, well. It seems to have vanished."
Well, at least Hob's not hallucinating. Not that a disappearing bookstore is helpful to his sanity.
After what was surely a conspicuously long silence, though his visitor just waits patiently, Hob says, "Have... you been there before?" He feels weirdly defensive of The Library, even if it's currently AWOL. He doesn't know if he wants random people to be able to find Dream.
Or maybe that's just jealousy.
"Oh, no, this is my first time coming this way," says the man, apologetically. "I'm just looking for a certain book."
Damn odd timing for it.
Hob comes out from behind the counter and waves him over to a table. He should probably get some tea. Proper hospitality and all. But he's too worked up and way too sleep-deprived.
His guest sits down primly at the table as Hob slouches against the back of his own seat. "Sorry," Hob finally says, "if I'm--" he waves a vague hand. "Dream's had trouble before, that's all." He holds out his hand to his guest. "Hob."
The man shakes his hand. "Hm. A pleasure. I am Aziraphale. To any associate of--" he tastes the name, "Dream's, that is."
It's interesting that The Library's reputation carries further than knowledge of Dream himself, despite how deeply Dream seems to be tied to the shop.
"Is it meant to be there, then?" asks Aziraphale hopefully. "I wouldn't blame him for moving around to protect the collection; I certainly wouldn't want all and sundry picking through the shelves!" He shudders. "Though I was hoping to find that book."
Hob doesn't bother asking what book. Whatever it is, Dream will certainly have it. What's more important is--
"'Moving around?' Do you know how?" And then, realizing if he wants a chance at info he's going to need to offer some of his own, adds, "You just missed him, it's only today that The Library's been... gone."
"Oh, dear," says Aziraphale, now looking troubled.
"Not sure what pointed you towards this place, but if you've heard anything..." Hob continues, "Dream is my--" what is Dream, anyway? They haven't established it, "...friend."
Looking contemplative, Aziraphale says, "Well it is odd timing, now that you mention it, because--"
That's when the door to The Library flies open.
A lanky man comes hurtling down the steps, limbs akimbo, yelling something over his shoulder that Hob can't hear from within the cafe. "Oh dear," says Aziraphale again, with a mix of concern and consternation. "Crowley!"
Dream storms out of the doorway next, expression thunderous, his hair sticking up in all directions like he'd been struck by lightning. That has Hob lurching to his feet, which Aziraphale does as well, and they both rush outside, just in time to hear--
"Look, it's just one silly book, okay?" The unfamiliar man--Crowley, presumably--says, stopping in the middle of the road and turning towards Dream. "Don't overreact."
Dream is, in fact, clutching a singular heavy book, and looks like he's just about to hurl it, except that Dream would never do something so undignified as that, Hob thinks.
Dream hurls the book at Crowley.
Or not.
Crowley catches it against his chest, stumbling back with the weight. "I do not accept," spits Dream, each word the strike of a nail, "surreptitious rummaging in my library."
"Oh come on," says Crowley, tossing the book to Aziraphale, who's just caught up to him and who catches it with a surprised little umph! sound. Crowley makes a shooing sort of go on, run gesture to Aziraphale, which he doesn't heed. "It's not like I was going to burn the place down. You're just prejudiced against demons."
"I am prejudiced against thieves," hisses Dream. Hob finally reaches his side before he can throw another book or something, lays a hand on Dream's arm. Though all he's really thinking is, demons?!
"Crowley," Aziraphale admonishes. "Please tell me you did not." He finally looks at the cover of the book, and gasps. "Crowley."
Crowley shrugs. "You wanted it, he had it."
Hob frowns, confused. "You don't need to steal from The Library. It's not a museum. Just go in and buy it." Not that Hob's ever actually paid for any of Dream's books.
Both Crowley and Aziraphale turn to him. "One could not simply give away such an artifact," says Aziraphale, caressing the book's leatherbound cover.
"Least not for a steep price," says Crowley, which evidently justifies his trying to swipe it. "I won't be beholden to the likes of you." He points at Dream.
Dream looks affronted. "Now who is prejudiced?"
"Let's back up," Hob says, unsure how he became the voice of reason here. He still has a hand wrapped around Dream's arm, it's grounding after the way Dream had just vanished on him. "What happened? Dream-- I tried to come over and you were just gone." The empty room past The Library doorway is going to continue to be nightmare fuel.
Dream makes an apologetic little sound. "I apologize. I closed all access to The Library for its protection. As it turned out, my assessment of the threat was overstated." He glares at Crowley and adds, darkly, "I thought you were from the school board. Breaking in in the dead of night like so."
Hob momentarily gets stuck on the fact that Dream considers the local school board a greater threat than an actual demon from hell.
"Which," Dream continues, "was utterly unnecessary. You could have simply come to The Library as a visitor and sought out what you were looking for. It would have been granted."
"Oh, so I was just supposed to know you actually sell your books?"
"The books will find their rightful recipients," Dream says stiffly.
"Crowley, you have been very rude," says Aziraphale, though he hasn't given up the book, "I think you should apologize."
"Eh," says Crowley, waving this off. Hob supposes it wouldn't really be given to demons to apologize for things. "You apologize if you really want to."
Aziraphale turns to Dream with a sigh. "I am sorry for my companion's behavior. And... grateful for the book."
Dream nods solemnly at him. It seems his ire does not extend to Aziraphale.
Crowley leans back on his heels, closer to Aziraphale. "Mayyybee we should go now."
Aziraphale nods. "Quite." He tips his head at Dream, and then at Hob. "Thank you for your hospitality, Hob."
Then he turns and hurries away, Crowley slinking along beside him. As they leave, Hob hears Aziraphale admonish, "Do you know how few booksellers there are with truly rare volumes? We cannot afford to make such enemies."
"Yeah, you're welcome, angel."
"...Thank you."
Hob shakes his head in bemusement and turns back to Dream. He takes both of Dream's arms in his hands now, holding onto him, looking him over. Unable to fully vanish the lingering panic of The Library just being gone. "Are you alright? I was... worried. When you disappeared."
"I am annoyed," Dream huffs, like it's a greater point of suffering than any actual injury. Then he leans in close to Hob, pressing a hand to his chest. "I apologize. I did not intend to cause you distress. I had to shut the doors rather quickly, but I hoped to resolve the issue before you had cause to visit The Library."
"It's alright, love. I'm just glad you're okay." He kisses Dream, tentative for how new this all still is. Tastes lightning on his lips. Dream hums with pleasure.
When they pull apart, Hob wraps an arm around Dream's back, starts leading him back towards the cafe, or perhaps just to Hob's flat above. Tea solves everything. "So. The school board, eh?"
Dream sighs with the weight of the world on his shoulders. "They are enthusiastic about banning books."
Hob pulls him against his side, kisses his temple. "Dream against the world."
Dream grumbles, but leans his head on Hob's shoulder, and despite the many strange things of today Hob is going to have to internalize, he feels all soft inside at the gesture.
"Don't worry," he says, "next time your many enemies come calling, just yell and I'll create a diversion."
"And be waiting with tea after I've dealt with them?"
"Got it in one."
As they reach the door to the cafe, Dream turns his head to kiss Hob's shoulder. "You are good to me, Hob Gadling."
And Hob will keep being so. Even when the next strange thing happens.
308 notes · View notes
archaeos · 6 months
Text
Tory party stop being fucking fascists for one minute challenge (immediately failed)
101 notes · View notes
malwarewolf404 · 2 months
Text
Tumblr media
Has anyone done this yet or
36 notes · View notes
aceofspades-sml · 8 months
Text
Hey Henry :( one final time :( get down here :((
67 notes · View notes
amelia-friend · 8 months
Text
In Livesies/Broadway the scabs seem to be strangers to the Newsies, but in UKsies it very definitely is Splasher, Buttons and Tommy Boy - I mean Crutchie even goes “Tommy Boy? Whatcha doing?” all confused as the three boys walk past.
115 notes · View notes
nb2000 · 4 months
Text
*whispers* I don't like the new TARDIS interior, all that white is too cold.
33 notes · View notes
hella1975 · 8 months
Note
would LOVE to know full details to the culture difference bestie when you've got the time because I'm kinda just a sucker for that. also. were we too nice for you tell me more about that
here we gooooo here's a rundown of the top things that were really jarring to me as a brit in america!
kinda dumb that i feel the need to say this but ive been burned before: americans, if you're going to send me shit about this list, please first reread what you've typed and ask yourself 'am i addressing this person as an actual real life adult that not only has experienced both countries she speaks about but also has perfectly functioning social skills that allow her to navigate what is and isn't a culture difference, or am i talking to her like a condescending little prick?' this includes messages like 'americans aren't actually ___, we're just ___ which clearly went over your head as a silly foreigner :)' do u understand how condescending messages like that are as the person who was there? this list is me saying what was strange to me AS A BRIT IN AMERICA. it is a comparison, not an objective statement of something ive decided is a fact about your culture. im not writing this so people can try and like. educate me on all the things i missed because america was just soooo complex. okay? stunning
you guys were SO nice like i think the best way i can contextualise this for an american is that the first time i felt actually comfortable (not that i was uncomfortable otherwise but i mean in a social sense) was when we were in new york city. no one looked at me no one wanted to talk to me people were shouting and being rude to each other it was just like home <3 the way americans are friendly is just so intense and it took me a good while to stop being so bowled over by it. like if you met someone one time they'd try and hug you and i found that very very strange
americans generally talk about their feelings a lot more and i dont even mean just from the people i interacted with bc that very well might have been because i just got on well with them so we were talking honestly, but even on commercials and things you guys talk about mental illnesses and such like it's a grocery shop whereas in england there's still very much a stiff upper lip culture about that kind of thing
you guys do speak louder. like objectively even 'quiet' americans were louder than most brits and would be glared at in public if we were in england just bc of the volume they were speaking at. you also inflect more. again i think this is another thing that boils down to americans being very bright and intense while the english are renowned for not wanting anyone to look at them ever. like a bug under a rock
FREE REFILLS!! i have not shut up about this but if you order a coffee somewhere then you have in fact ordered UNLIMITED COFFEE. the first time a waitress leaned over me to fill my coffee up i flinched away from her bc i was like what in god's name are you doing
if you try and make a hot drink in america then you are taking your life in your hands. you have to filter the water, find whatever apparatus this specific house uses to boil water, remind yourself that americans have a vendetta against milk so you have to use creamer which is 'exactly like milk' but 'you wouldnt drink it like milk' so what the fuck is going on there, and then by the time everything's done you want to go out back to curl up and die like an old dog. dont get me started on tea
one thing i thought was cute is that you guys say 'come get in the AC' the same way we would say 'come get out of the rain' like that's such a cute little human thing i think
AC itself is such a godsend but me not being used to it was kind of baffling to americans. boom's brother asked me what my ideal AC temp was at home and i just. looked at him bc i didnt even know where to start with that
it took me WEEKS to stop trying to get in the driver's side of the car
american ignorance is a very real very frustrating thing. 'whats that thing they do in europe-' idk bc ive never been to all of europe. 'when i went to europe-' where in europe. it is a continent. i got asked if we have fireworks in europe. bonfire night is older than the founding of america. there's just a genuine belief amongst americans that they're not even AWARE of (because it would be smart, nice americans that i genuinely liked saying these things) that america is the most elite country in the world and is the only place to have certain things
speaking of the european thing with americans, the fact that 'travelling to europe' is typically a bragging right over there and is seen as quite an upper class thing is very interesting. a lot of the times people would be bragging TO ME and it would go over my head bc id be like 'well anyone can go to spain'. i feel like shagaluf would give americans an aneurysm
the sheer size of america never truly registered with me until i was there like i cannot wrap my head around it. the uk can fit in lake michigan 4 times. you guys have cargo ships on lakes. the roads just go straight for miles and miles and miles. you have every environment and weather possible. literally obsessed
capitalism is actually way more intense in america. like yeah it makes sense america is thee capitalist country but i guess i thought because i was coming from a western capitalist country myself that it wouldnt change much. but like. billboards on roads. adverts while you pump gas. there is someone selling u something everywhere u look
tipping was so hard 😭 i knowwww it's necessary i understand the econ behind it all but i was so stressed all the time because of it 😭
YOUR STARBUCKS IS SO MUCH BETTER THAN OURS
i knew i was going to have to change the way i spoke in america bc of obvious things (my accent isnt The British Accent that americans recognise, i use a lot of slang etc) but it surprised me just how much i had to change. like by the end of it i wasnt using any slang and i was enunciating every letter because i was just so tired of saying something just for boom to have to literally translate bc like? it was no fault of theirs or mine or even the person i was talking to but it just made me feel Weird and Odd and most surprising of all was that it made me feel stupid? and i guess that's bc i get a lot of shit for my accent over here too so im oversensitive to it but ive never properly felt more like a foreigner in a different country than i did trying to talk to americans
sarcasm. im just. like the running joke is that americans dont get sarcasm and id have actually preferred that i think bc what instead happened is you guys have AMERICAN sarcasm and it just. made no fucking sense to me at all. i literally did not get american humour even slightly it was probably my biggest thing when i was over there like i literally felt like entire conversations were going over my head. british humour is very dry so not only did i not get american humour but sometimes MY humour would be misinterpreted as well and the entire thing was just very strange lol
RIGHT ON RED????? RED MEANS STOP???? WHAT ARE YOU DOING????
53 notes · View notes
sneakydraws · 1 year
Photo
Tumblr media
go king give us nothing!!!!!!
152 notes · View notes
tyridot · 3 months
Text
to repeat: your leftist activism should not start and stop at people you can tolerate and people you find annoying. you hate england, but do you care about the fact that transphobic laws and rules are being passed there and trans people are suffering because of it despite your opinions? did you know the murder trial of a trans girl is happening right now and news publications are disrespecting her even in death? would you say the only solution to stop transphobia in america is to sink it despite the fact trans people live there and cannot go anywhere else? do you know you have to care about people's human rights, even ones you don't like?
23 notes · View notes
dolokhoded · 4 months
Text
maybe i'm just greek but it's so weird to me when people get so upset over the ACCENTS in shows being transferred from broadway to the west end or to australia changing like ???? literally who fucking cares it's the same music and the same words these are just people's accents people have different accents in real life outside of having to fake them for theatre sorry <3
22 notes · View notes
sztansescheadache · 4 months
Text
im not immune to anything eurovision so i’ll be watching jesc after all
20 notes · View notes
bandtrees · 8 months
Text
i know it’s because serirei as a ship exists in part because people just like reigen and getting someone to ship with him is a way to express that, like the reigen feelings came before the ship, and people like to make their popular favs angsty and sad... 
...but it’s SO funny to me that out of the two of them, reigen gets the “troubled mentally ill guy with baggage who’s comforted by his partner” treatment. as if serizawa isn’t the most traumatized character ever put to animation
32 notes · View notes
judasisgayriot · 19 days
Text
The next fob show is on my birthday (11th) so I think as a special treat for me pete should continue to escalate from the baby/love shenanigans and idk. Call patrick ‘my darling’ or something and give him a lil kiss. And heavens gate in the medley?? 👀
7 notes · View notes