#pellaaearien
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In waking dreams final chapter please? 👉👈
my slowest of all progress, i can't believe it's been a year since i updated it 😂 curses
[ make me work on one of my fics if you want ]
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It was restorative to be close to him. Dream’s realm ought to have been what most restored him, but instead it was Hob—his touch, his assurance, his faith. Hob saw wonder in the Dreaming where Dream could see only destruction and ruin. He wanted Dream, when Dream had so often shied away from his touch. Every time he glimpsed something new of Dream, he only seemed to want him more. Dream loved him. He’d loved him, he thought, since that first night after their wedding, when Hob had welcomed him into the house he’d built in the Dreaming. He hadn’t let himself see it until so much later, but he’d loved this man who’d kissed him in a shadowed church, and brought him food to eat that he didn’t need, and held him when darkness threatened to swallow him. He could not fathom how he’d ever thought he could simply walk away. It would be like tearing out his own heart. He’d experienced something like it in his prison, and he did not want to feel that pain ever again. “I am sorry,” he murmured. He barely knew, at this point, what he was apologizing for. He felt Hob had forgiven him for his mistakes already. So perhaps it was only for himself. Perhaps he had hurt himself more than anything else. “No need,” Hob said. He twined his fingers in Dream’s hair, brought him back far enough that they could look each other in the eyes again. Dream raised shaking hands to wipe at his eyes, which were beading with tears. He felt it all so keenly now, not only the isolation of his prison, but the pain of the Dreaming, gouged and aching, and the pain of Hob, too, long left behind. His fingertips came away black with ink, and he knew it was streaking down his cheeks like trails of blood. Hob swiped his thumbs over Dream’s cheeks and the tears started to run clear.
#dream got out of his cage but he is still not having a good time lol#in waking dreams#my writing#ask#pellaaearien
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Saw this prompt https://www.tumblr.com/writing-prompt-s/712978629923143680/a-mark-on-your-forehead-identifies-the-god-you?source=share, someone had turned it into a God of Arepo ficlet which is lovely, but all I could think was Dreamling
Here's the clickable link!!! It is so fuckin dreamling coded!!!
Just imagine... Hob decides that he's going to build this new temple for his god, but he's going to do it HIS way. Which means... he's going to build a pub. (This is entirely because Hob likes pubs and wants to own one, but he figures that if HE likes it then his god will too? Right?)
He doesn't actually build it. But he buys a 17th century coaching in and does it up from near ruins, and he calls it The New Inn (stupid name, but it stuck). He thinks about his mysterious god as he papers the walls and upcycles the furniture and sands down the bar, and he quietly dreams of what his god might be like.
The new inn/temple seems to pay off, because Hob’s god doesn't end his life or strike him down. Hob serves patrons each day: hot food at lunch time, pizza in the evenings, and the drinks flow all day long. Students come in to study and take advantage of the discounts, and new mums come in with their tiny babies just to get out in the world. There's karaoke and live bands. People dream, sometimes intoxicated and out loud, sometimes in the corners and quiet. Hob dreams about his god.
And one day his god shows up, just in time for last orders.
"At first I thought you had mistaken me for the god of wine." He says, leaning against Hob’s bar. "But this is a temple to dreams, as it should be."
"If you think this is a temple to dreams." Hob grins, leaning close. His god has deep black eyes, and hair like black smoke. "Then you should see my bedroom."
And the god of dreams follows him upstairs.
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🕶
Whooo another snippet for this WIP! I know what I'm gonna be spending the next few days fiddling around with
The Corinthian cannot recall the last time he’d seen Dre—Morpheus happy like this. Can’t remember the last time he’d smiled, and it wasn’t dressed up in barbed wire or condescension or spite. Morpheus’s smiles were always predatory, triumphant, like he’d won a game even if a lot of the time the other party didn’t know they were playing. Now his smiles are gentle and delighted, wondrous even. Like every waking moment he’s experiencing something new, and that alone is enough to bring him some semblance of joy. The Corinthian hates it.
Make me write Ask Game
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Happy Birthday! 🎉<3
Thank you!! ❤️❤️❤️ I’m celebrating by taking a writing master class this evening with one of my favorite teachers and then spending the weekend at my favorite writing conference!
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24 for the pre-dawntrail asks!
24. Sigrun tends to snack throughout the day; it's more like "grazing". They tend to eat a lot of protein and fiber. She has a pretty healthy relationship with food, but she's not a "foodie" like Oviine. There are some foods that are more special to her(Ishgardian tea, the dumplings Yugiri makes, some others) than her usual fare.
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✨️When you get this ask you have to put 5 songs you listen to, post it, then send this ask to 10 of your followers (positive vibes are cool)🎶✨️
i also got this ask from @pellaaearien ! ive mostly been listening to podcasts recently but i shall scrounge my recent searches sdfgfh
the goblin song - murray gold
2. from past to present - jeremy soule
3. rollin' girl - wowaka
4. nothing you can take from me - rachel zegler
5. there i go - TOMI
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Top five books?
ohh there are so many that change over the years, but in no particular order: -On Earth We're Briefly Gorgeous by Ocean Vuong
-SUPERPOSE by SEOSAMH & ANKA
-The Count of Monte Cristo by Alexandre Dumas
-Our Dreams At Dusk by Yuhki Kamatani
-Close To The Knives: A Memoir of Disintegration by David Wojnarowicz
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OKAY THAT ORIGINAL POST ENTIRELY BYPASSED MY USUAL "DOUBT EVERYTHING IMPORTANT YOU SEE ON TUMBLR UNTIL YOU'VE FACT CHECKED" BECAUSE IT PANICKED ME SO MUCH
thank you for the reblog and correction!
This Google Drive AI scraping bullshit actually makes me want to cry. My entire life is packed into Google Drive. All of my writing over the years, all of my academic documents, everything.
I’m just so overwhelmed with all the shit I’m going to have to move. I’m lucky to have Scrivener, but online data storage has been super important as I’ve had so many shitty computers, and the only reason I haven’t lost work is because Google Drive has been my backup storage unit.
My partner has recommended gitlab to move my files to - it seems useful, and I can try and explain more about what it is and how it works when I get more familiar with it. I’m unsure if it’s a text editor, or can work that way. He was explaining something about the version history that I don’t quite understand right now but might later. I’m just super overwhelmed and frustrated that this is the dystopia we live in right now.
#but yeah people saying it's some thin ice are right. don't keep all your info in only one place#fact checked#and a good reminder of how this kind of stuff gets spread.#ugh. i'm usually pretty proud of my fact-checking impulses but yeah this one got by me#artsietango#cussing#pellaaearien#me#google#(fortunately this was the FIRST post i saw on the topic -- with the correction -- so phew. net zero info lol)
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No one tagged me but it looked fun and I wanted to do it :3
do this picrew
and this uquiz
then show off your results
No pressure but tagging for fun: @cuubism @seiya-starsniper @pellaaearien @valeriianz @gabessquishytum
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Last Line Tag Game
Tagged by @kydrogendragon - thank you! Have a chunky little snippet from a little further down the Mechanic Hob timeline:
= "You just like me for my rugged filthiness," Hob says, a tease to keep his head in the right place—there's still no sense getting attached, after all.
Dream regards him haughtily, one eyebrow lifting. "I am quite sure I would enjoy you equally as much cleaned up and dressed up, that I might wine and dine you, take you home to my bed for an evening."
Hob almost, almost detects a hint of vulnerability threading the words and grins, a little pang of tenderness tugging helplessly behind his chest. "Think so, do you?"
"Would you like to test my theory?" There is something both hesitant and eager underneath the casual tone, and Hob's heart trips a little as that tug grows stronger.
"Why, Mr. Atelíotes, are you asking me out? On a proper date?"
"Perhaps." It's equal parts caginess and coy teasing, and Hob is forced to admit that he's smitten despite himself.
"Well." He grins, dialing it up to his most charming. "Rumor has it I'm excellent company whether my dick's involved or not. And while a standard dinner date may not be as fantasy-worthy as getting plowed by the studly mechanic in his shop, I think we could still have a good time." He's showing his hand a bit, gently calling Dream on the fantasy fulfillment that has obviously been going on here, but what's life without a little risk? Especially when the potential reward is so very worth it?
"You are very confident of your own appeal," Dream replies, mouth turning up at one corner in a way that tips over from 'cautious' to 'amused'. And if Hob's not mistaken, there's a hint of pink blushing over his porcelain complexion.
He grins. "Am I wrong, though?"
"…No," Dream decides, after a long moment of deliberation, and Hob steps closer to him, dares to touch his face affectionately.
"Why don't you pick me up here at seven tomorrow night. Tell me exactly how posh I should dress, and we'll see where it goes?" He leans in, presses his lips softly to Dream's.
Dream hums into it, pleased, and squeezes his bicep gently before pulling away. "Very well. Seven, tomorrow night. I will make us a reservation and text you the dress code?"
Hob smiles, an effervescent sort of happiness bubbling up inside him. "Sounds perfect. Phone, love?" =
Tagging, no obligation: @lenreli @valeriianz @chaosheadspace @dsudis @pellaaearien @mallory-x and if you've not been tagged but want to share, please take this passive tag and have at it!
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The wonderful @pellaaearien has come through yet again! The scene you remember is in chapter 23.
My Stranger, My Dream by SigniorBenedickofPadua
Words: 67154
Heavy Themes, Please Mind Chapter Warnings
Hob has been around death. Living in London throughout multiple plague outbreaks and fires, as well as making a living soldiering and dabbling in banditry, will do that to you. What he doesn't know is that Death has been around Hob as well. He has no idea that when his Stranger left him that night in 1389 after their first meeting, the woman who came up to him, laid a hand on his shoulder and said, “Good luck, friend,” was Death incarnate.
Hob doesn’t know that he is one of few things in this world that has been Touched by Death and lived. Had he known this, he might not have been as confused as he is when his body slams into the floor of a dim, candle-lit cellar and he finds himself surrounded by hooded figures and a gold circle on the floor. That is all he manages to perceive before everything goes blurry and consciousness slips away from him again.
Here in the Darkness.
Rated E, Hob/Dream
I looked over this fic several times when searching the tags, I'm very glad I asked the Dreamers!!
I definitely am not an expert on all sandman fanfictions, although I'm usually quite handy at finding fics, and have a good many bookmarked. I hope this blog can be used as a platform to help people find fics through the fandom, as well as ones I can personally help with. A community library, if you will.
Hello! This is such a great project, thank you for doing it!
I've been looking for a Sandman fic where Dream and Hob team up to rescue Calliope. The key scene that stuck in my mind was Hob threatening Madoc and deliberately letting himself get stabbed (with a letter opener?) in order to intimidate/freak Madoc out. I believe it was established Dreamling, but at the end it sort of implied things were heading toward an Immortal Throuple.
I can't remember whether I read it here on tumblr or on AO3; I've searched tags as best I can but haven't been able to find it. Hopefully this rings a bell for someone out there :)
I've gone through the ao3 tags for this one and I'm struggling. The Collective Unconscious has an excellent fic memory so I'm putting it out there: does anyone recognise this?
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I got into The Sandman/Dreamling recently (in large part due to you!). Can you recommend any blogs that still post regularly? Thank you!
Oh yay! I'm so happy to hear that! I hope you are enjoying the MASSES of incredible dreamling fic on ao3, and if you need some recs, hit me up, I have SO MANY.
This community is so active and friendly, and welcoming, and encouraging, and I love it so much! I'm so happy to bring you into it!
Okay, some very cool and active folks...
Starting with @dailydreamling, which is awesome for a huge range of dreamling content!
Individual peeps:
@softest-punk @tj-dragonblade @carnelianmeluha @pellaaearien @kydrogendragon @dsudis @zzoomacroom @lenreli @issylra @gabessquishytum @cuubism @moorishflower @arialerendeair @signiorbenedickofpadua @five-and-dimes @teejaystumbles @karalynlovescake @avelera @seiya-starsniper @academicblorbo and I'm sure there are a ton I forgot, I could just keep listing them forever!
Also, I don't know if you're active on discord, but the @mr-sadman server is wonderful, if large and kind of intimidating, lol.
If anyone else wants to add on more blogs to follow that I may have missed, please please do so!
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76 for tell me where to put my love?
Did you have any ideas that didn’t make the final cut?
Oooo yes definitely! The big one I can think of is that I changed the seasons for Hob's almost confession in Chapter 6. I had initially written it in the spring, after Hob and Dream had been to some sort of event, and had stolen some time away to talk amongst the cherry blossom trees in some rich person's garden. But then I realized I REALLY wanted the baby to have been conceived shortly after their June 7 wedding, so uh...cherry blossoms wouldn't have been in bloom at the six month mark. I'm happy with the final result, but I definitely still want these two to have a love confession under cherry blossom trees in at least one of my fics!
Get To Know Your Fic Writer!
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T for the ABC meme!
T1: Yes, to a fault. She went through a period of being overly blunt.
T2: it depends on the person, but if she knows them well enough, she can pick up quirks.
T3: Answered!
T4: Generally when the press/paparazzi ask invasive questions, Sigrun will lie. It's the only time she likes lying, and their responses amuse her.
T5: Well, Venat quickly figured out Sigrun wasn't just Epione's familiar. So Sigrun confirmed her assumption. Also she's upfront about her family and friendships to those she trusts.
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Happy Birthday!! 🎈
Thanks pell!!
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Last Line Tag Game
Tagged by @tj-dragonblade, thanks for that! And for catching me when I've actually been writing, so here's the last thing I wrote today, a bit of my story about Hob knitting things for Dream:
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That was not, however, Hob's only plan, which Dream only learned, at last, when he next came to visit Hob. It was only nine days after the last visit, when Dream finally admitted to himself that he was curious to see the fruits of Hob's intended labors. Much of his own work, as Lord of the Dreaming, was occupied in making, and tending to what he made, and in all his previous meetings with Hob he had never witnessed anything Hob created, let alone had his attention drawn so forcefully to what dreams Hob might imbue into such an object.
He told himself that this was a natural and reasonable curiosity, practically a professional interest. Hob had shown no reticence in discussing his plans or inviting Dream to assess the dreams of the skeins; he would have little reason to be more guarded in showing Dream the results.
Dream was not altogether certain how long it took to make a pair of socks, but he knew it was folly to attempt to guess, or to delay his next visit until he was confident that enough time had passed. Mortal time was ever perplexing to him, and he did not care to try to make sense of it now.
He returned to the place he had last left Hob, just outside the door to Hob's flat above the New Inn's taproom. It was well into the evening now and--Dream reached out to touch the dreams of those below to be sure--a Monday, a night when few would stay late in a drinking establishment. There was a very good chance he would find Hob at home.
Dream knocked.
An unknowable time passed, but Dream forced himself to be patient, to wait, and eventually the door opened to reveal Hob, looking for an instant confused and then delighted. "My friend! Come in, come in, welcome."
Dream went where he was invited, and had only just taken a tentative seat on the sofa when Hob produced a dark, soft bundle.
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Tagging ummmm @the-apocrypha, @pellaaearien, @teejaystumbles, @cuubism, and @toffeecape, and anyone else who wants to play!
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