#I love my Sandfam

[delta-pavonis]

Dunno if you have been asked this before but, what's your writing process like?

I have not been asked this before, so thank you for asking!

The short version is: bold of you to think I have a process! 😅

Long version: I have ADHD and my brain just goes OOOH SHINY and then quite literally heaves forth a bunch of words/images that I might be lucky enough to get down in a doc. If I get positive responses that gives me dopamine, which encourages that specific type of content or ship or AU. My brain is starving for dopamine (yes, I have a whole bunch of doctors and a therapist and am on meds, but that can only do so much and I was only formally diagnosed maybe two years ago), so it pretty much pulls an ADHD version of Mari Kondo with every single activity - it will hold that one thing in its hands, ask Does this spark dopamine? and if it doesn't *YEET* there goes my motivation to do the thing.

It is 50% superpower and 50% absolute pain in the ass. For example, Hellknight!Hob exists because I saw some pictures completely unrelated to The Sandman on Insta and came up with a short AU, posted it to Tumblr, and the response was HUGE (to me at least, not like, huge in the grand scheme of all fandoms). Right now I haven't been getting lots of positive feedback on Hellknight stuff (not through any fault of my wonderful readers, but just simply because I haven't posted recently) and therefore I quite literally have trouble getting myself to write more of it. Which of course, puts more time in between posts, which reduces positive feedback, which makes my brain shift to other things even if I don't exactly want it to. It is WACKY.

Which is to say... fun trick: if you want me to write more of something, tell me you like it and I will start leaning towards it. This is why I have a drummer/dancer AU sequel in the works.

So, you know, if anyone is missing Hellknight and wants to wax poetic about it to me, I wouldn't mind having something else to kick my mind into gear... 😅😅😅😅😅😅

I do, however, have a few tools I lean heavily on:

I write in GoogleDocs and keep everything accessible offline, even from my phone, so I end up writing bits and pieces even when I am in random ass places.

Wordhippo.com is my main reference as dictionary, thesaurus, etc. You can literally type "word hippo ___" into your search engine of choice and fill in the blank with the word you are looking for and the page for that word will pop up.

I used this resource to get the AO3 html formatting script in GoogleDocs. It is a lifesaver. I also have used AOYeet.

And I have some amazing AMAZING fandom friends who help with all the ups and downs of creating fanworks as a hobby and without whom I wouldn't still be here.

[withoutyouimsaskia]

@aralezinspace ❤️❤️❤️ Good luck with Shakespeare!

So many fabulous people in this list, overwhelming to be tagged. I have been forever changed in the past year by Mr Gaiman's beautiful creation. To the passionate and exceptional artists and writers and creators in the Sandfam: Thank you for welcoming me with such warmth and affection into this lovely corner of the internet. Happy Sandmanniversary! 🥰

Sandmaniversary Celebration 💫

I wanted to write/create something for the Sandmaniversary this weekend, but I'm visiting my parents and my brain has been filled and worn out by summer Shakespeare (we open next week holy shit i'm totally frekaing out but also super excited) anyway

so instead I decided this would be a great time to not only celebrate the show, this world Mr. Gaiman has given us, but also celebrate each other, the fan creators! In no particular order, these are some of my fave writers and artists in this incredibly talented fandom!

@delta-pavonis @teejaystumbles @honeybeezgobzzzzz @just-french-me-up @just-some-random-blogger @7-wonders @cuckoo-on-a-string @peachesofteal @withoutyouimsaskia @writethrough @undiscovered-horizon @roguelov @dotieeee @lilpunkrock @lis-likes-fics @deicidis @rosaren2498 @daddyjackfrost

Y'all have expanded my enjoyment of Sandman and the Dreaming exponentially, I love revisiting your works and finding something new every time! So here's to our Sandman blorbos, our favorite realms, and here's to you who keep the stories growing 💗🥂

[withoutyouimsaskia]

Autumn (Sandman One-Shot)

​GIF: Originally posted by @thisgameissonintendo

Pairing: Morpheus/Dream of the Endless x gender neutral reader

Summary: One-shot. Reader self-insert. Pure fluff. Friends to more-than-friends. Morpheus has made you a dream based on one of your favourite things and you explore it together.

Warnings: Physical intimacy, kissing.

Word Count: 1.5k

A/N: Happy First Day of Autumn Sandfam! Hope you enjoy this one, would love to hear what you think, and also to know which season is your favourite and why. All my love, Saskia <3

Sandman Masterlist

--------------------------------------

"Can I open my eyes yet?" You stifle a giggle with the back of your hand, feeling very much like a person awaiting a surprise on their birthday.

"So impatient," Morpheus replies with a teasing lilt to his liquid velvet voice that sets your laughter free.

"Is that a yes?"

"I am simply adding some final touches."

Ever the perfectionist, you think with a grin.

You inhale deeply, making use of one of the only other senses you could use in this situation. The air is crisp, fresh, with an earthy undertone; you are definitely outside, but where, you have no other clues to help guess.

Morpheus had certainly not given anything away when he had found you sketching in the Dreaming's orchard, charcoal in one hand, half-eaten apple in the other. He had simply told you there was something he wanted to show you.

Curiosity mounting, you had eagerly taken your friend's outstretched hand and promised to not look until he gave the word.

Finally, there is movement in the air beside you. Morpheus' fingers ghost your upper arm to signify his proximity.

"You may open your eyes now," he speaks quietly yet authoritatively by your ear.

You look, blinking to adjust to the sunlight filtering through the swaying branches of numerous trees, before taking the view in properly.

You notice the colours first, their vivacity and variety:

Umber, sienna, scarlet, amber, saffron. All under a pale blue, wispy cloud sky.

Leaves are falling thick and fast. They swirl and undulate in the soft breeze, coming to rest on an already leaf-smothered ground.

Little collections of chestnut coloured mushrooms are dotted next to the tree line. Droplets of dew have gathered on their caps, lending a gorgeous sheen to their already lovely appearance.

Everything you saw was a showcase of autumn.

"You remembered," you say breathlessly, referring to a conversation that had taken place a few weeks ago where you had professed your love for the season and all it entailed.

You look to Morpheus with a sunbeam smile, asking for permission to explore. He nods, extending his arm, communicating that it was all yours.

Your steps into the leafy clearing are gleeful and bouncy, creating satisfying rustling and crunching noises as you go towards the well-established trees. Melodic birdsong echoes from the canopy above you. Swathes of moss begin where the layers of leaves end. You carefully hop onto it and enjoy the way your shoes sink a little into the plush, verdant carpet.

Fingertips trail over the greyish, dappled trunk of a sycamore tree before you move to the tactile, deeply ridged bark of an ash.

You slip your arms around the second tree, close your eyes and give it a big hug.

Everything feels right in this moment.

You open your eyes to see Morpheus watching you from several paces away. There is a twinkle in his deep blue eyes; clearly he finds your display amusing.

The rich autumn colours contrast beautifully against his monochrome attire. None of the falling leaves come close to his person, reminding you that even now, even when he looks to be still, there are a multitude of responsibilities ticking away inside his mind, including the control of the objects within this tranquil dreamscape.

A dreamscape that he wanted to share with you.

It is times like these that you are confronted by the truth of just how special your friendship with Morpheus is. There are fleeting moments where you wish it could be more but for now you are simply an Endless and a mortal who find solace in each other's company.

Pushing yourself away from the tree, you come back into the clearing and find a spot among the leaves to sit. Morpheus joins you after you pat the ground and call his name.

No words are exchanged for a while. You simply pick through the surrounding leaves to find the most vibrant example. A scarlet one, fallen from an aspen is what you settle on. You tuck it in your coat pocket and meet Morpheus' wistful gaze.

"Thank you, I really needed this."

He nods formally. "When you said that you found yourself missing the autumn splendours of the Waking World, I decided to make a version for you to visit at your leisure."

You are taken aback. "You made all this for me?"

"Yes," his tone starts off measured as ever but gives way to something you have never heard before. "Does it have your approval?"

The sudden insecurity is impossibly endearing. You reach sideways to touch the back of his hand.

"Approval? Morpheus, it's - well, somewhere I could only dream of."

He bows his head. "It pleases me to hear that."

"I hope it didn't take up too much of your time to make it all, I know how stretched you can get."

"I cannot deny, it has occupied me a little more than the construction of other recent dreams, however, I believe it necessary to put time and effort into making gifts for those whose pleasure and happiness you find important. You deserve to feel those things, Y/N, and being able to contribute to them in some way brings me pleasure of my own."

You don't know if it the fiery colours around you heightening your reactions but hearing Morpheus talk about pleasure is doing something to you.

It is fuel to the embers that had been smouldering within your body for a couple of months now.

It makes you feel delirious. You find your attention languidly drifting between his eyes and his lips.

Blue to pink, pink to blue.

Then he mirrors your action and it all becomes too much.

"I really want to kiss you right now," you admit, the words rushing out without proper consideration.

"Very well," he answers instantly, not allowing you even a fraction of a second to regret your sudden divulgence.

Doubling down on this approach, he turns his body to face yours and gently cups your face in his long-fingered hands.

He's staring at you so intently, his thumbs run back and forth over your cheekbones, the unwavering attention and sensation causing you to shiver and sigh.

He moves closer and his pupils blow out from anticipation.

Morpheus' perfect lips are now mere centimetres from yours. Fluttery nerves fill your insides. You are so overwhelmed that this is actually happening.

You close the gap, testing the waters with a kiss that is soft and tentative. Morpheus is instantly hooked, initiating a second one that allows you to discover just how skilled he is.

Your hands move up to tangle in Morpheus' unruly hair. At present, you cannot remember how long have you been longing to do this but you are not disappointed by how silken it feels under your palms.

The kiss between you becomes intense, his tongue joining the dance with a bone melting deftness, and soon you want to feel more of his body against yours.

You go to lay back on the bed of leaves.

He pulls away, concern etched in his brows, forehead and eyes that questions if he has gone too quickly.

You smile softly to assure him that all is well.

"Come here." You draw him backwards with you, allowing him to straddle you. During the manoeuvre, his coat falls open enough for you to see the galaxies swirling within the lining.

He wastes no time in leaning down to kiss you once more, starting at your lips and moving to your neck when he senses that you need to breathe.

The touches of his mouth, the feeling of his body covering yours protectively, the weight of his hips aligned with your own; it has you moaning appreciatively.

He withdraws but remains close, astute eyes drinking in every detail and emotion on your smiling face, the halo-like glow shimmering on your hair.

"So beautiful," Morpheus murmurs reverently.

"Your dreams always are," you say, looking past him at the translucent clouds hovering in the sky above you.

His deep voice rumbles deliciously as he speaks his reply, a false admonishment, "You know that's not what I meant."

He playfully nudges his nose against yours. "This dream pales in comparison to you."

You blush as brightly as the leaf that you had stashed within your pocket. Morpheus traces his fingers over the blossoming redness, marvelling in how the extra heat feels under his touch and how his words were the ones that put it there.

"Kiss me, please," you ask in a whisper.

He arranges his coat to cocoon you against the seasonal chill and then obliges you with a deep and passionate kiss that spreads internal warmth right out to the tips of your fingers and toes.

If your winter continues like this, with Morpheus to hold and bond with, it is shaping up to be infinitely more delightful and cosy than any that have come before.

[z-is-very-tired]

Viktor Cross Stitch Update #2 !!!

I have made it to 20% with this man finally!!!

More process photos under the cut!

The above two photos were both taken on one night. I made a goal to finish the part of his crutch that is visible between the crook of his pointer finger and the top of his middle finger (circled in the left photo). Before doing this I had spent so much time worried that his hand didn't look good and that I had invested so much time in something that wasn't going to work out. While I was finishing that part of his crutch I could see the depth and dimension come together, and I genuinely cried in relief and joy and wonder at my work. I love cross stitch so much, but it is a very "trust the process" work, and I am very impatient.

Left: a picture when I had just finished his fingers (mostly).

Right: the first picture I took where it really looked like what I hoped it would when I started. I spend so much time with my nose 3 inches away from this thing, and so it's hard to like, see it as more than just individual pixels.

Once again thanking my dears @4typercent @missmacfire of the sandfam discord, and @lonelyfangirl11 and @sirohsisofliver of my irl friendship.

[delta-pavonis]

My irrational urge to try to do as many combinations of four as possible. Why does my brain do this?

Here, have some scenarios that my brain shook out in the last 20 minutes:

🚂Train-hands-belt-kidnap is clearly a train heist AU, debating modern or wild west. Definitely Dream trying to rob something off the train and end up finding this handsome man stowed away in a closet with his hands tied to a pipe above his head with a thick leather belt.

🍽️ Liability-duty-willpower-feast makes me think some big Dreaming event, like when Dream welcomed everyone looking for the Key to Hell, but Hob is there as consort and Dream is having trouble not bending his dressed-up-in-Dreaming-finery-for-the-first-time lover over the table and fucking him in front of everyone.

🙌 Weave-hands-willpower-goldfish for some reason gives me Hob somehow interacting with the Fates, particularly Clotho. Alternatively, I also think of the white horse tapestry hanging in doctor/woodworker!Hob's library and curator!Dream's reaction to it in my Wood+Glass AU, as well as his obsession with Hob's hands from his videos.

🐺 Explore-duty-belt-predator is screaming for nightmare Dream (or perhaps a vampire Dream or werewolf Dream) restraining Hob in order to better explore his body.

🕵️‍♂️ Liability-photography-forum-kidnap is 100% a detective mystery where Hob as a private eye is hired to track and photograph Dream, son of some kind of big deal family. He is arguably their biggest liability, but Hob falls in love with him only to witness him being kidnapped and having to go on a rescue mission instead.

📷 Breakdown-hands-duty-photography makes me think of the rough hands of mechanic Hob fixing up a broken down car or motorcycle and Dream being a photographer or some such and wanting to do a study on Hob. Hob is flabbergasted as to how he could be the subject of one artsy photograph, let alone an entire series of them, but when he sees the photos Dream takes of him he is floored. And then kisses him senseless. Excellent use of the line "Is this how you see me?"

Prompts Revealed!

These are the prompts for the first ever Sandman Connect4 Challenge. Your own cards will be emailed out to you on November 1st, but feel free to begin working on any prompts now! The submission link to mark your cards will be included in the email along with your cards and can also be found here.

We hope you enjoy!

As a reminder, feel free to tag as #2024SandmanConnect4 or tag us in your posts if you'd like us to reblog it!

[ineffablyendless]

Blinks. It seems that I have been tagged to play the Last Line Tag by @dustylovelyrun, which is a lovely surprise. I didnt think anyone was paying attention to my sparse works but, I'm happy to play nonetheless!

Per the rules (well, guidelines), I'm meant to post the last lines of my wip, but since my very last had to be the kidnapped Hob shot im trying to fulfill with Yan and possibly Yue if they ever check their tumblr notifs (😅), I'll post some last lines from my other wips instead

I miss him, a GO/Sandman crossover fic, of Aziraphale traversing the Dreaming in October of 2020, when Crowley had promised to wake up and yet remains stubbornly asleep;

She would have, thought Dream, but when he hears of the battle of the Tadfield Airbase, the reason becomes distressingly clear. She had survived by the hair’s breadth’s bluff. A son of Lucifer could have hurt her, as surely as they had injured the rest of the Horsemen, by Silver Blade and Divine fire. 

She wouldn’t have wanted Dream to worry, and his thirst for vengeance was that of legends. Hypocrite, Dream thought fondly. He will be sure to bring it up when she next swoops in for an unannounced visit. Perhaps even a family dinner.

I am Hope, another GO/Sandman wip of the Oldest Game tournament between Dream and Lucifer, from Crowley's POV

He remains suspended, well above the teeming masses, and sees the Unholy Lord and their unsolicited guest where they perch upon the balcony that overlooks them all, and  Crowley recognizes him indeed. His preferred form of deathly pallor and feather soft head of hair is unmistakable in their beauty, the persona of all that Yearns and Longs and Hopes. 

Dream of the Endless sets a glare upon Lucifer Morningstar that would have been unforgivable by any other entity, but he is a monarch of power of his own right, and he has-as far as Crowley knows-broken no laws. Lucifer simply smiles.

Finally, an untitled dreamling Royal AU, with mysterious Prince Morpheus and Hob being Death's knight

Hob raises a curious brow. "Were you, then?" He prods. "Planning to give someone a sort of shakedown?" 

There is a telling silence as Matthew stares down the circle of ale left behind from the slosh of Hob’s cup, shifting uncomfortably. Hob lets him stew in it. His patience is larger than most would suspect of him, not that it takes very long at all.

And of course, tagging @ennas-aesthetic, @wannabecoyote and my favourite Sandfam writers (who no doubt have been tagged multiple times probably), @landwriter @softest-punk @moorishflower @gabessquishytum

Edit: also @wordsinhaled please

[withoutyouimsaskia]

Low (Sandman One-Shot)

​GIF: Originally posted by @sigurism

Pairing: Morpheus/Dream of the Endless x gender neutral reader

Summary: One-shot. Reader self-insert. Angst/comfort. Morpheus attempts to bring comfort to a dreamer who is managing depression, while in his cat form.

Warnings: Angst, talk of depression

Word Count: 1.7k

A/N: Hey Sandfam, can you believe it has been a whole year since series 1 hit our screens? To celebrate, I am sharing a one-shot that features our beloved Dream as Meowpheus. Hope you enjoy, let me know what you think. Would love to know if you're doing anything to commemorate today. All my love, Saskia <3

Sandman Masterlist

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If a person were allowed to view what was presently being thought inside your mind and felt within your heart, they would likely notice that your body was being a direct conduit for both.

You were often cited by others as someone who wore their heart on the sleeve. When you had first heard the phrase directed towards you, it had conjured a pleasant connotation. Showing your emotions could not really be a bad thing, could it? Humans loved love, and they loved honesty. However, honesty about less-than-positive feelings; you have come to learn that it doesn't produce the same reaction.

All endearment fades.

Infants, children, adolescents can feel as they wish. Adults must be in control.

Unhappiness is something to be fixed, avoided, quashed; an emotion to be ashamed of, this is what you have been conditioned to believe. And unfortunately, the manner in which a vast majority of people behave in response to your low moods does little to aid in changing your mindset.

"Cheer up, it might never happen", they would say, the flippant words a paralysing gut punch that leaves you wanting to scream: It already did.

You then feel obligated to double down on your efforts to flatten the emotional peaks and troughs. A dangerous pursuit, for repressing sadness in lieu of its acknowledgement allows for it to stack up and up so much that you that run the risk of it spilling forth in unfavourable, non-triggering settings.

You are a human shaped pressure cooker. Doomed to spiral at the petrol station.

There was a time when sleep brought you a refuge. Regardless of how bad your day had been, how leaden your steps, you could always find enough fervour to propel yourself into carrying out your bedtime routine and then contentedly fall asleep.

For in dreams, the act of masking your feelings from observers could be dropped; you were alone in body and mind within the neutrality of your bedroom. Sure, you had nightmares at times but you derived so much pleasure from their dream counterparts that it did not matter in the long term.

You were happy in your dreamscapes to simply be.

Until you suddenly weren't.

A new low was discovered in waking and it has transformed into one you cannot escape from, even in dreams. Each night has become a repetition. You slip into sleep and plummet to the same subconscious rock bottom.

The place where you go, the earth is cold and damp under your prone body. You lay on your side, one arm cradling your head, the other wrapped around your middle.

An ominous drone takes up residence within your mind, a constant reminder of your thoughts and feelings.

Here you remain.

Trapped in the doldrums. Languishing away. Asleep but not seeking fantasies.

Even your usual nightmares are not drawn to you for there is nothing to entice them in. What could you need of a nightmare right now? There was nothing that could be taught.

Morpheus, Dream of the Endless senses the shift. You are a blip in a sea of dreamers. As if your subconscious mind has become a daub of dark matter against a backdrop of glowing galaxies; you exist but your light is extinguished.

There is so much anguish and the King of Dreams and Nightmares feels it all too keenly, as if it were his own.

It grows in strength with each passing day and night, taking your will to carry on. The handiwork of Despair of the Endless is all too apparent, intricate and bold in its ensnarement until you are a focal point of suffering.

Unsurprisingly, this is not the first time that Morpheus has felt the sorrow of a dreamer. Having existed for millennia, he has been witness to every variety. Kinds brought on by grief, shame, fear, longing, loathing to name but a few. There is something additional afoot with you though.

The desolate clearing you have been coming to, the fact that it is the same location every night, unchanging and devoid of hope. It is unusual, and hard to witness.

Despair has you in a chokehold.

What pains Morpheus even further is that he cannot remove his sibling's influence here. He can, however, offer you a reprieve.

He will bring you a dream.

A few moments are spent wandering through your prior dreamscapes, through the aid of the book emblazoned with your name, looking for things that have brought you solace in the past. Morpheus sees a few are inspired by memories.

He knows he must do this in a delicate manner and settles on a reserved option. One that would hopefully not startle you too much. Approaching you in a humanoid form is not feasible. It was other humans that had contributed to your current state, judging by your recent nightmares.

Morpheus enters the frame upon four legs, approaching you on soundless feet. Each step is measured, the pads of each wide paw flattening imperceptibly into the cold, loose ground.

He creeps closer and takes a minute to watch you. Your eyelids are closed, forehead pinched with a frown, mouth set in a grimace.

Morpheus stands beside you and nudges his nose against the hand you are gripping your torso with. Three sensations stand out to you. The soft press of the contact. The warm breath of an exhalation. The delicate tickle of whiskers.

The latter is a something you recognise immediately; it was unlike anything else in the universe.

You open your eyes, unsurprised by the image that greets you.

Next to you stands a cat. At least you think it is a cat.

They are much larger than any feline you have ever laid eyes on, made even more immense by their black fur; wild and mussed but not in a way that suggested they were uncared for, rather that it had been blown about by an unrelenting wind.

"Hello." You push yourself to a cross-legged seated position. "Are you lost?"

The innocent little question is loaded with such pathos that Morpheus has to blink back the hot prick of tears behind his eyes. Here you were, your hope, your life force literally ebbing away and you were worried about him.

He instinctually edges a bit closer to you before you speak again, this time in a whisper.

“I’m afraid I might not be much help. I’m lost too."

You extend your arm, offering the flat of your palm to the cat as a proper introduction, one that he reciprocates by bumping his cheek firmly against your skin.

"I guess we can be lost together."

Your sad smile is utterly devastating as you scratch behind one of his almost wolfish ears. He is unbelievably soft and you reach for the same spot again.

Morpheus puts his front paws on your left knee so you don't have to stretch as far and lets you continue to touch his head.

He is aware of the science of petting a cat with its lowering of blood pressure and alleviation of stress and anxiety, and with every second, he feels a lessening of your most acute pain, like the top layers are being skimmed away.

You feel better physically too, less tightness in your muscles and more awareness in your senses. You begin to notice things like the scent of the air and the ambient temperature. It is damp and mild but nothing you can’t handle, and it is a nice thought to have.

"You're very handsome," You comment, carefully and meticulously running your fingers through the dark fur, starting at his head and ending at the very tip of his bushy tail.

Morpheus, though he was calm before, is instantly and completely disarmed by these long-form strokes and is powerless to stop the deep, rumbling purrs that emanate from within his chest.

You smile widely at your companion’s reaction.

"Would you like to sit on me?" You pat your thigh as an invitation.

Morpheus hesitates, wondering if he would be crossing a boundary of familiarity. You don’t know that he is the anthropomorphic personification of dreams and nightmares. To you, he is a cat and according to your dreams, an animal that makes you feel safe and calm.

And right now, you were making him feel the same. This was not in any way a part of his plan when he had shown himself to you but who was he to deny what was clearly happening here?

He climbs up.

“That’s it, sweetheart,” You say encouragingly, delighted by the fact that this beautiful cat has chosen to trust you.

Morpheus takes a moment to settle and then snuggles into the crook of your arm. His warmth and weight are comforting sensations. You resume your gentle stroking, and he resumes his satisfied purring.

He gazes up at you with his striking blue eyes. Stormy in their intensity, oceanic in their colour. They are eyes that seem to hold the depth of a juxtaposed universe within them; wise yet weary. Hopeful yet haunted.

You have never seen anything like them in cats or humans alike.

The more you look, the more the cat's face seems to say: "Feel what you need to. Everything will be okay." How you determine this, you do not know yet you go with it, you are asleep after all.

Overcome with emotion, you screw your eyes shut and bend down to bring your face close to Morpheus' own. You cuddle him and the tears begin to fall.

"Thank you," You say in a hoarse whisper.

A little piece of hope glistens within you. You can do this. You don't have to hide your feelings. You shouldn't.

Morpheus feels his heart bursting at this wavering of your despair.

He decides there and then that he will do this for you every night until you feel strong enough to leave this barren plane.

No words needed. Just a human and a cat. Helping each other feel less alone.