#dreamling anniversary

[aunt-booty]

Something extremely gay happened today 634 years ago. Good for us

[karmacansuckmyd-ck]

Yo so the art that I was planning to have been done for today isn’t finished, so it’s likely going to be done tomorrow instead! I really wanted it to be done for today, but life got in the way, so here’s the first part of the fic I’m writing for this week. Enjoy!

The sun was high in the sky when Morpheus arrived. The clouds were fuzzy cotton balls against the heavens, and trees swept up their leaves to greet them with ambience and warmth. The greenery there told a thousand stories alone, and Morpheus had never felt so at home outside of the Dreaming in the way he did just then. A singular concrete path led towards Hob’s apartment- he had told him that he does not live above the pub in case either that or his apartment was on fire ‘“or something equally dangerous,” Hob told him, an earnest warning dancing in his eyes’, so he would have somewhere to fall back to in case anything happened. A gentle breeze trodded softly past him, nuzzling at his cheek and leading him through the front garden, as a deafening silence greeted him, though the daydreams were still strong and standing.

Surely, the plantation there knew of his presence, for even organisms without brains could sense the presence of an Endless- even things that were not of a conscious mind or even alive in any manner would bend in some way to his presence. And this was happening,even there in the Waking when he was at his mist calm, though Morpheus could sense mixed feelings (dreams) arriving from all around because of his presence.

No matter. He was not here for them, and thus would let them dream whatever they wanted.

Once he had arrived at the mahogany door, he knocked thrice, as Hob had told him that it was more polite to knock at the front door than simply show up in the middle of his living room- and while Morpheus hadn’t understood the concept entirely, apparently it granted a sense of privacy and calm decision when one nocked rather than turned up ‘out of the blue’, as Hob had put it, and Morpheus understood the concept of needing privacy deeply, so he had obliged the boundaries that his human friend had placed (he would have done so regardless, as that was common decency more than anything, but at least with this one he had an understanding as to why it was rather than being left out of what it meant to the other).

Morpheus closed his eyes and inhaled a breath of the toxic pollution surrounding him, allowing the city air that had been muted by the vegetation to fill where his lungs would be, before exhaling and opening his eyes to Hob’s welcoming stature.

His heart felt warm and fuzzy. It had been a while since he had became accustomed to the feeling.

[valiantstarlights]

[the-cloudy-dreamer]

“Friends meet more frequently than a hundred years, do they not?”

A small but special contribution for @mr-sadman Dreamling week! Happy Dreamling Anniversary friends 🖤 go to sleep early so loser sad man blesses you in his special day!

[fishfingersandscarves]

"Hob, do you know what day it is?"

Hob looked up from his grading at Dream and rubbed at his eyes. The late night from before was hitting him harder than he expected. God, he was getting old.

"Uh, Wednesday? I don't have class today if that's what you're wondering." He said, clicking the top of his pen idly.

"I wasn't. But thank you." Dream said. He looked at Hob expectantly. "Was that all, love?" Hob asked, turning back to his papers. Dream hummed and kissed the top of Hob's head. "For now." And that was that.

Later at lunch, (Hob: eating. Dream: drinking.) Dream asked again.

"Still Wednesday." Hob laughed. "Are you expecting something today?" Dream sipped his wine and quirked an eyebrow.

Hob patted down his pockets with good humor. "Nothing for you here." He patted his head. "Nothing here either." Dream snorted. Hob smiled. He tapped his mouth thoughtfully. Then gasped in mock surprise. .

"Ah, here it is!" He leaned across the table and gave Dream a kiss.

Dream laughed into it, making their teeth clash. Hob pressed forward and the table wobbled. They necked each other a bit more before Dream pulled back a playful gleam in his eye. "Hob Gadling, you are going to topple the table."

"Oh, I'll topple something alright," Hob grinned. "Terrible." Dream said, smiling.

"You love it." Hob said, pulling Dream flush against him. Tall and lithe and boney and so loved. "Perhaps." Dream murmured, pressing kisses and bites in turn against the soft flesh of where his neck met his jaw. Hob shivered.

"Alright, come on then," Hob lifted Dream off the ground with a grunt. "We've got things to do."

Later still, when night had come and they lay draped in each other's arms Hob asked instead. "So what day is it? Aside from Wednesday, I mean." Dream nuzzle against Hob’s neck and sighed. "It is the seventh of June."

Hob sat up suddenly, Dream made a noise of complaint from the pillows.

"No." Hob said, flabbergasted. "Yes," Dream said, muffled by the pillows.

"I forgot?!" Dream hummed, facedown on cotton. "You bastard," Hob laughed, face red, "Why didn't you say?"

"I tried," Dream frowned, though from the twinkle in his eye Hob could tell he was more amused than upset. "You bastard," Hob repeated, and began kissing every bit of Dream he could reach. Dream began to laugh, a joyful, horrible, braying noise that Hob loved more than anything.

"Happy anniversary, Dream." He said, pressing a final and long kiss to his lover's soft lips. "Happy anniversary, Hob." Dream said softly.

Hob smiled at him and they kissed slowly. There was joy in it and endless possibilities. Years upon years of anniversaries stretched out before him. They pulled apart and Hob felt his heart beating just the same as it had, more than six hundred years ago when he first laid eyes on his beautiful stranger. His love.

Then Dream raised an eyebrow, eyes flashing and Hob suspected he might be more in trouble than he thought.

On AO3

[moderndaypandora]

Dream and Hob have a dumb outstanding argument about when their anniversary is, because of course they do.

Dream: I know when it is, i remember putting the ring on you as a bond of fidelity and trust

Hob, fondly exasperated, shaking his head: we've been over it, it doesn't count

Rose, their trapped audience, regretting swinging by to steal books from Hob: why not?


Hob: no license, no vows, there wasn't even a proposal!


Rose: . . . did he just give you a ring?


Hob: i went to sleep ring-less and woke up wearing it.

Rose: and when did you catch on?


Hob: 3 years later

Rose: . . .

Hob: I'd made some comment about skipping the fuss and announcing it as a fait accompli

Hob: and Dream said "like we did"

Rose: [covering mouth with her hand]

Dream: [turtling into his coat]

Hob: 20 minutes of shouting at him later, I ended up saying "a wedding is telling the world 'I choose you'", and he had the audacity to say "I chose you, Hob Gadling"

Dream, emerging from his jacket collar: and Hob said "of course I'm choosing you too"

[mollymagician]

Dreamling Week Day 2: stuck in an elevator

Hi guys!! *shows up three days late with a Starbucks, two immortals and an old lady stuck in an elevator*

It was June 7th. Not THE June 7th, not the big one, they’re a few years off from that yet, but a random rainy 7th of June, and Hob was off doing errands. He’d have been a lot more disgruntled about slogging half way around the city in a pelting downpour if he hadn’t known that Dream would pop up somewhere, he always somehow managed it on this specific date.

But it’s still a surprise when he suddenly comes into being just as Hob is about to hop onto the lift at stop #2 on his to-do list.

Hob shoots him a grin. “Fancy seeing you out and about on such a miserable day.”

Dream replied with the small smile that seemed to be his grin-equivalent. “I thought you could use…assistance holding your umbrella?”

There was a ding as the doors slid open, and then began to close behind them as they stepped inside. Suddenly, Dream’s arm shot out, inhumanly quick and totally lacking the primal human fear of getting one’s fingers squished.

The doors sprang back open, revealing a stooped and wrinkled figure shuffling along behind a walker. Her gray hair was bundled into a messy bun, and gray eyes were magnified enormously by the thickest glasses Hob had ever seen.

Her name was Gladys, they would soon come to find out.

She didn’t seem to notice that Dream somehow knew what floor to push for her without asking, just crackled, “Oh, thank you kindly, dearie!” and Hob stifled a snicker. Dearie.

The lift began to rise. They made it to the sixth floor before the power went out.

Gladys sighed and pronounced with feeling, “Oh bugger!”

Gladys was eighty-two years old, never trusted elevators, but was delighted to be stuck in one with “two such handsome young men!”

“Er…I’m sure the power will be back up in a tick,” Hob said. Gladys settled comfortably on the seat of her walker, seemingly very content with her lot.

“So romantic, eh boys? Just like those little stories my granddaughter likes to write!” She gave Hob a wink. Dream’s head tilted and he took on the far-away look he got whenever he was accessing his mental metaphysical Google, or whatever it was he did. Hob could tell when he finally found what he was looking for, because his eyebrows shot up so high they nearly cleared the top of his head.

Fifteen minutes later:

“Well lads, thank the good Lord I had a piddle before I came or we’d be in dire straights right about now!”

Standing behind Gladys, Dream reached into his coat and produced his pouch of sand, giving Hob a look that he could only translate as is it really necessary for us all to be stuck in this box?

Hob wasn’t sure how to telegraph we cannot throw sand at a little old woman and teleport her out of a lift because she will have a STROKE with nothing but expressive eyebrows so he just shook his head and shot Dream his sternest look. It worked on his students…usually. Dream signed and put the sand away obediently.

Another fifteen minutes:

They had heard about Gladys’ late husband, her three grandchildren and how lovely the cardiologist was that she’d been on her way to visit before her morning got derailed. She rummaged around in her purse. “Like a mint, dears?”

Hob swore under his breath at his phone. “Connection is wretched in here. I can’t get through to anyone.” Dream patted him awkwardly on the shoulder. Hob could FEEL him restraining himself from pulling his sand out and dangling it in Hob’s face.

“I’m sure everything will be fine, lovie. I think I have a deck of cards about, somewhere…” More purse-rummaging. “Oh, and a sandwich! Bless, I forgot that was there.”

Ten more minutes:

“So,” Gladys said, “How long have you two been together, eh? I’d have been celebrating fifty years with my Bert this July.”

Silence. Distantly, Hob could hear the rain pounding against the building, echoing down the elevator shaft.

“Er…” he began, eloquently.

“That is…” he continued.

“Oh go on, it’s all right,” Gladys chirped. “My grandson, the one at university, he’s got himself a nice boyfriend. I said to myself, I said, Gladys, you can tell when two lads are sweet on one another, so don’t go challenging anyone to strip poker.” She pulled the deck of cards out of her purse and winked. “Yet.”

“Um,” Hob said.

“Sometimes it feels like six hundred years,” Dream intoned.

Gladys cackled and bopped the Immortal Endless King of Dreams and Nightmares on the arm with her purse. “Oh, listen to this one here!”

“It is…our anniversary,” Dream added.

He reached over to nudge Hob’s jaw shut with a little click, and then tugged Hob into his side like…like it was just something they did. And yes, that was definitely a smirk.

The power chose that moment to come back on.

“Oh…bugger,” Hob said.

——————————————-

They made it back down to the lobby with little incident. Gladys shuffled off to call her daughter, she said, since her doctors appointment was a bust. But first, she gave Hob a surprisingly crushing handshake and thumped Dream on the shoulder and said, loudly, “Well, thank you for the LOVELY time, boys. Let’s hope that the next time you’re stuck in a lift on your anniversary it’s not with an old bird like me hanging around, eh?” She executed a frankly indecent eyebrow wiggle, and shuffled away, humming to herself.

Hob stood for a moment watching her go, and realized he didn’t have the patience for any more of that day’s to-do list. He was to-do’ed out, as it were. Except for one thing. He glanced up at Dream and tried hard to control the idiot grin attempting to take over his face.

“We need to talk,” Hob said.

“That was partially my intent when I came to visit you today,” Dream said, still smirking, the bastard.

“Partially?”

“I must admit, I’d hoped that talking wouldn’t be our only activity.”

Hob sighed. “Right. I’m not hiking back to the tube in this weather. Get back in the lift, dearie. This time you can sand us all you like.”

Dream said, “I thought you’d never ask.”

[pellaaearien]

Another Word for Ache | Dream/Hob | 108k | Mature | COMPLETE | Ch. 16: It Will Come Back (12K)

Hunger as a Metaphor for Love, Dream of the Endless Needs a Hug, Hob Gadling wants to give him one, Non-sexual Intimacy, Inappropriate Use of Shir HaShirim (Song of Songs), Episode Codas, Dream of the Endless Frees Nada, Surrealism, Matthew Swears a Lot, Dream POV, Slow Burn, Not Actually Unrequited Love (They’re Just Idiots), or: it’s okay to have dreams about your platonic best friend so long as he never finds out about them

Don't let me in with with no intention to keep me Jesus Christ, don't be kind to me Honey, don't feed me, I will come back

[Read on AO3]

Thanks to @moorishflower for beta-ing the first draft of this chapter, and to @mandolinearts for the gorgeous banner!

[aunt-booty]

Something gay happened 634 years ago

[buildoblivion]

this is not an original thought but in light of today’s events

[valiantstarlights]

[Bluebeard Dream AU] Three Types of Flowers

Chapter 1

For Dreamling Week 2024 Day 2: Pirates / Hourglass / Flowers / Exhibitionism

In which letters are exchanged between siblings, a bouquet is sent, and something is published in the scandal sheet, The Starlight Observer, that would seriously impact Hob's reputation.

Not me continuing to further my 'Hob and Johanna are siblings' agenda in the year of our Lord 2024. 💃

CW: This fic is starting to look like it's going to be entirely in epistolary form, so heads up if that's not your cup of tea.

--

Hobsie,

?????

And also, welcome back to London. It would have been nice to receive a letter saying that you'd be arriving. And without El, too.

Your favorite sister,

Johanna II Constantine

--

My ONLY sister,

I apologize if I came back so abruptly without sending any notice. I simply couldn't be in India any longer. I shall tell you everything when we meet in person.

I assume your question marks refer to me being mentioned in the latest The Starlight Observer? If so, then I can only tell you that that anonymous gossip writer doesn't know what they're writing about. Lord Dream has been nothing but courteous to me at the ball hosted by the Riveras, and the debutantes were simply being welcoming. No one was being predatory at all. In fact, I must have been the least charming one there, as out of practice as I am in dealing with nobles in general.

I shall ride for home as soon as my return documents are in order. See you soon.

Your brother,

R.G.

--

Hobsie,

You're a fucking idiot.

But I will reserve the rest of my insults for when you arrive home, so that the message would really sink in.

The smarter sibling between the two of us,

Johanna II Constantine

--

Brother,

If you're getting married again within the next few months, I'm not attending.

Desire

--

Noted.

- 3

--

Rude. You could have at least asked if it's because Unity is close to giving birth and I want to be present when we welcome our first child into the world. And yes, that is the case, actually, so thanks for asking.

Despair says she has a good feeling about this Gadling fellow of yours. I think she's being sarcastic.

Desire

--

That was what I surmised. Please tell Unity that I am looking forward to meeting my niece and/or nephew. I hope they inherit most of their personality from her.

Lord Robert is not mine yet. But I welcome our sister's kind words, sarcastically meant or not.

- 3

--

The Starlight Observer

June 14, [year redacted]

...There is also much talk about two certain gentlemen whom we shall hide under the names Lord Dream Endless and Lord Robert Gadling, who were seen together in Madame Lucienne's bookshop, conversing for hours.

We cannot be certain if talking is all they did, or if they had engaged in a different kind of conversation behind the bookshelves altogether, as Madame Lucienne had closed the doors of her shop to other customers earlier than usual that day. To prevent others from witnessing something scandalous? Or perhaps to join the gentlemen in their 'conversations'?...

--

Hobsie,

!!!!!

Your scandalized and thoroughly revolted sister,

Johanna II Constantine

--

Jo,

For fuck's sake. Do people here do nothing else but read The Starlight Observer?

Lord Dream and I were only talking. And Madame Lucienne closed the bookshop early because she wasn't feeling well. The poor woman; she had been feeling nauseous all day. But perhaps that is good news, as Lord Dream told me that she and her wife Madame Gault have been trying for a child these past couple of years.

Now stop reading that scandal sheet and do something meaningful with your life.

R.G.

--

Can you blame me? There is nothing else as regularly entertaining as reading gossip in The Starlight Observer.

I bet Madame Lucienne was just nauseous because you and Lord Dream were being disgusting.

Shan't.

J2C

--

A note attached to a bouquet:

I have been called a fool many times in my life, and I will undoubtedly continue to be labeled as such for the rest of it. But I would be the biggest fool of all if I remain silent about the feelings that have bloomed within me during the afternoon we spent together at Madame Lucienne's bookshop.

You would be well within your rights to reject me. And I fully expect for you to do so. It is far too soon far too fast, and you are too discerning and sensible to bother with the likes of me.

Nevertheless, this bouquet spells out the words I didn't have the courage to say to you last Thursday, in between our discussion of Chaucer, Indian folk tales, and songs sung by the krakens of the deep to their slumbering gods.

Yours,

Hob

--

Sister,

I write to you at a time of great need. I have received a bouquet, and would like your help in deciphering its meaning. I have my own interpretation of it, of course, but I would be most grateful if you were to tell me your own interpretation.

Biting red tulips, white starburst carnations, and black witch's whip, held together by black oil paper of the highest quality and a red silk ribbon.

Please respond as soon as you can.

Dream

--

Dream,

You are my favorite brother and I love you, but I do not appreciate Matthew alarming my staff and having them wake me up at two in the morning because you're 'in desperate need of my help.'

You made me think you had been cursed and were dying painfully, Dream!

No, do not scold Matthew. I know he is anxious by nature and that he is only following your orders to get a reply from me as soon as inhumanly possible.

As for the bouquet you received, it means exactly what you think it means.

Biting red tulips for barely restrained passion (and perhaps a nod to your ruby), white starburst carnations for new beginnings and purity of intent (as well as to mirror your eyes), and black witch's whip to convey that you have wholly captivated the sender and that they do not wish to be free of you.

The sender has also taken great care to incorporate your three favorite colors, and gone out of their way to find high-quality black oil paper, which is rare to find in Europe this time of year. And yes, perhaps they also mean to allude to the red string of fate by using a red silk ribbon.

Now tell me: is the sender of the bouquet Lord Robert Gadling? You know I personally don't read The Starlight Observer, but Jessamy is always up to date, and she has shown me all the relevant sections mentioning you and Lord Robert while Matthew paced outside the door of my study, tearing at his hair.

Do let me know if there are any updates. I prefer to hear news about you directly from you.

Your most patient (and now sleep-deprived) sister,

Death

--

The Starlight Observer

June 21, [year redacted]

"What soberness conceals, drunkenness reveals." This has been proven time and again every time Countess Marguerite Ichihara holds her annual wine-tasting event at her family's country seat.

And as per usual, this author has had a grand time fishing for truths as they surface from the depths of a wineglass.

To start with, let us talk about the hostess herself and her new matchmaking project this season...

...Of the Endless family, only Lady Death, Lord Destruction, and Lady Delirium are in attendance...

...with Lady Johanna Constantine claiming that her brother, Lord Robert Gadling, is indisposed, as he is still re-acclimating to the weather in London...

...And speaking of the forbidden, it is common knowledge among the immortal nobility that while we may tumble in bed with a mortal or two, marrying them as they are is considered beyond the pale.

This author can certainly remember the outrage sparked by the last issue of Argus, The Starlight Observer's predecessor, when it published a blind item that talked about a member of the immortal nobility marrying a human woman.

Well, dearest readers, it is now my solemn duty to inform you, that half a century after that article was published, the entire ton has once again been set abuzz when Mister William Shaxberd, twelfth son of Baron Shaxberd and a clergyman who used to be stationed a stone throw's away from Gretna Green, loudly proclaimed that he had witnessed such a couple be united under the light of the gods.

And if that claim isn't preposterous enough, he also insists that the nobleperson in question is Lord Robert Gadling, though he was married under the name Sir Robert Gadlen.

Is this only a severe misremembering on the part of a heavily intoxicated Mister Shaxberd, who at that point in time was barely able to stand up straight, let alone walk, or does his story ring of truth?

Have no fear, dearest readers. As always, this author shall investigate further.

--

Notes:

I made up all three flowers mentioned in this chapter because I didn't have time to read through the lists of RL!flowers and their meanings. 🥲

The Starlight Observer doesn't know that the real reason Dream and Hob didn't attend the wine-tasting event is because they have their own...tasting event 😏

My brain: Shaxberd is the twelfth son because he wrote Twelfth Night. 😂👍

[dreamlingnation]

Dreamling Nation proudly presents:

1st Sandman Anniversary Celebration ✨

On the 5th of August of 2022, Neil Gaiman blessed us with the TV adaptation of one of his most beloved works, The Sandman. 365 days later, the Sandman fandom has blossomed into a beautiful, brilliant and unhinged community. This week, we celebrate this community, the show that brought us together, and all the amazing creations that were born from it! 💖

We want to dedicate each day from August 5 to August 12 to the Endless and all the great fan creations they’ve inspired. For this event, we’ve come up with a list of activities and prompts, so everyone can participate in their own way! Wether you choose to share your own works, your favourite fics and art or to create something entirely new, this celebration is for you!

We look forward to celebrating together and wish you a wonderful Sandman Anniversary! ✨

✨THE EVENT✨

5/8 - Saturday - Death

share the first post/creation you saw in the fandom!

6/8 - Sunday - Desire

share your favourite smut creation!

7/8 - Monday - Despair

share your favourite song/playlist/video!

8/8 - Tuesday - Destruction

share your favourite pairing (non dreamling only)!

9/8 - Wednesday - Delirium

share your favourite meme/crack post!

10/8 - Thursday - Destiny

share your favourite meta and/or headcanons!

11/8 - Friday - Dream

share a fic rec list with your favourite fanfics!

12/8 - Saturday - Hob

share your favourite side character!

✨PROMPT LIST✨

5/8 - Saturday - Death

ankh / darkness / “come with me”

6/8 - Sunday - Desire

kiss / longing / “I need you”

7/8 - Monday - Despair

sadness / hope / “I’m afraid”

8/8 - Tuesday - Destruction

endings / new beginnings / “let’s do it together“

9/8 - Wednesday - Delirium

drugs / imagination / “what are you thinking about?”

10/8 - Thursday - Destiny

fate / book / “that could change everything“

11/8 - Friday - Dream

story / dream / “am I dreaming?”

12/8 - Saturday - Hob

trust / friends / “what would you do without me?”

✨tag us and use #DNSandmanAnniversary and #1st Sandman Anniversary to be featured on the blog! ✨

[the-cloudy-dreamer]

First Day: Death

share the first post /creation you saw in the fandom

The very first fanfic that I ever read on this fandom was @avelera Come live with me and be my Love I’ve been following Maggie’s amazing writing work since her Bagginshield days and was very interested as to what possible ship or fanfic premise could be happening within the sandman! the rest as they say is history 🖤

Art wise @bluemuffin-draws was some of the first fanart I saw and absolutely adore! I think everything just conspired perfectly for me to want to check more of what was going Sandman related over here in tumblr and I haven’t regretted it ever since!

[immacaria]

In The Dark of The Night

This is my first entry to the @dreamlingnation's event for the Sandman's first anniversary! The prompt was 'darkness' and I hope you guys like it!

Tags: Vampire AU; Witch AU; Vampire!Dream; Witch!Hob; Fantasy AU; Blood play (kind of?? Just to be sure); Fluff; Cuddling;

When Hob opens his eyes, darkness surrounds him. He barely can see his own hand in front of his eyes, let alone the corners and silhouettes of the room he is in. However, the room is not unknown to him.

He knows that, at his feet, there’s an antique chest full of papers and books that holds many secrets and that, at the far right of the room, a writing desk stands filled with fountain pens, quills, colourful inks and blank paper. Next to the soft bed, a big wooden wardrobe half filled with his clothes accompanies a basin of clear cold water under a mirror. It’s not the room he grew up in nor the one he currently sleeps in, but it is his room because it belongs to Dream and they belong to each other.

Soft blankets wrap Hob’s body and memories from last night come back to him slowly. The jokes, the laughter and the shared caresses. It all comes back slowly to him and he knows that, if he reaches out behind him now, there will be a somewhat cold weight leaning against his back.

Dream’s arms are wrapped around his waist, bringing him closer to his chest, while his head rests between Hob’s shoulderplates. His skin is almost warm against Hob’s own, his blood still running inside the vampire’s veins and making the usually deadly cold body almost warm to touch. The thought of his blood running through the other’s veins is marvellous, it’s addicting, it’s intoxicating and Hob sighs contentedly at it.

Both of them have come a long way until they reached that point of familiarity and intimacy. Dream was scarred over past relationships, one worse than another, and Hob held too much responsibility into his own hands, a prejudice against each other’s races pushing them even more apart. But, somehow, they still ended up here, together and curled around one another with contentment.

He turns around on his lover’s arms, one hand coming to caress his face as his eyes stare at him. A smile appears on his lips as Dream presses against his hand, satisfaction clear on his expression. Like a cat, Hob thinks, thumb pressing against his cheekbone.

Where yesterday has been filled with hurry and laughter, the thrill of finally being together after days pushing them forward, today is filled with softness, love and rest. There's no need to hurry today, they aren't needed anywhere and, even if they were, Hob highly doubts they would go anywhere besides their bed and kitchen.

Because, yes, it's their bed now. Their bed, their kitchen, their sofa, their house, their home. After fighting so long to be together, just the fact of laying down here without the threat of anyone coming for them is a miracle.

And a miracle Hob is not willing to give back.

Pulling Dream closer to himself, he kissed the crown of his head, unruly hair tickling his nose. He keeps kissing him, his hand coming down to rest against his hips while he puts the other under Dream's shoulders. The darkness is quietly subduing around them, soft light beams coming through the curtains to wake them up. Outside, the city slowly comes to life as the humans fall asleep and the creatures of the night rise.

Dream's eyes flutter open, blinking unseeingly before focusing on him with the attention of a predator. Shockingly blue eyes look at every feature, even imperfection of his face as if trying to commit it to his memory and Hob smiles. Slightly sharp canines catch into his lower lip, drawing blood, and then his husband is kissing him.

His tongue drags over the blood before catching Hob's lip between his teeth and sucking. A moan escapes his throat as Dream's teeth deepens the cuts and more blood fills his mouth. They pull each other closer, legs intertwining as Dream pulls away to allow Hob breath.

"Good awakening, love," Dream says, voice low and raspy, and Hob kisses him again. His mouth tastes of copper and salt and home.

"Good night, duck," Hob answers, smiling at him and not noticing how the darkness disappeared from around them. The rest of the world doesn’t matter, for his whole world is there, right between his arms.

[bruce-wayne-simp]

Dreamling Nation Sandman Anniversary!

Day 2- Desire

Share your favourite smut creation!

Oof this one is hard 😔 I'll share 2 fics that im obsessed with currently 😳

Fic 1: Get What You Came For by @cuubism

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/46721743

Fic 2: Treat Me Like A Slut by Dream Murphy, PhD by @beatnikfreakiswriting

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/46066840

Bonus! Amazing nsfw art by: @hikaruchen

Links:

[tobrokenstone]

like this slumber that creeps to me (masterpost)

our hungers appeased (m, mind the tags)

hob gadling, excited to see and discover a new part of the world, joins the crew of a ship setting out to explore the arctic.

this was a mistake.

we'd feed well the land (t)

he's had enough practice by now that closing out his life in one place to move to the next is the work of days, and it's almost exactly a week after finally setting foot back in london that hob walks into a train station, earthly possessions packed neatly into a trunk and a healthy sum in a bank account ready to be wired elsewhere, and he buys a ticket for the next train heading far, far out from the city.

i'd be home with you (t)

dream hasn't gone this long without visiting him since whatever this thing was between them began. visits in the waking, sure; not quite thirty years into this new arrangement of theirs and hob's already gone years without seeing his friend in waking hours. there's never any real pattern to his visits – hob will spend a month seeing dream every other day and then not again for eight months. he's grown accustomed to that.

it's been two years of silence, now. and hob knows something's wrong.

a thousand teeth (and yours among them) (e, mind the tags)

i do not require food, hob gadling. i would not ask this of you, dream says, and this time he takes a sip of that not-wine and hob feels every one of his veins, feels the rushing of blood through his body, feels himself pulled like the tides to this man – this unknowable thing shaped like a man – sitting next to him.

i would still offer it. this and more.