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talyasquicktimeevents · 2 years

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For all of my Dreamling friendo's imagine our boy Hob Gadling, dressed in Jaskiers clothing, lute in hand singing this little beauty

I don't know if you'll arrive, how surprising

I've kept on surviving, what more can I do?

Thought these meetings bought you glee

Oh, my stranger, look at me

Now I'll miss reminiscing with you

These many hundred years that I've thrived

How you'd sat with just me at your side

I thought you had cared

'Bout my grin and my stupid hair

Watch me cry, reliving these meetings with you

Ladies and gentlemen, you have been the most beautiful audience

Remember to watch The Sandman if you can

Anyone needs Hob, he'll be brooding at the bar

Where have you gone?

I don't know if you'll return

With everything I said, you saw

You stormed right out on me

Oh, where've you gone?

I have grown most fond

At the end of my time once I'm through

No word that I can think of rings quite as true as "fond!"

Fond, stranger fond

I'm fond, stranger

Fond, fond, fond, fond, fond, fond, fond

I'll admit. I'm so very fond of you

#what if Hob Gadling was Jaskier #dream of the endless #the sandman #hob gadling #dreamling #a witcher crossover #you werent expecting this #Hob Gadling is so very fond #dream of the endless stands #After he stormed out #time for a sad break up song #Give Hob Gadling a lute #What if Hob Gadling sings?#him and jaskier would get on great #dreamling friends #dreamling fic

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deliriiuumm · 2 years

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love how death saw this drunk weirdo in the pub who was going on about how “dying is so overrated 🙄” and was like “i’m gonna give this funky little guy immortality and my brooding, friendless little brother. as a treat.”

#the sandman #death of the endless #hob gadling #dream of the endless #dreamling #death is the purveyor of the ‘give dream friends’ agenda

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melancholy-smile · 2 years

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What if Morpheus’ eyes did the star thing anytime he was in a dark room. (There may have been a post already like this idk. Also Ik it doesn’t really fit in with the show let me have fun). Like they’re stars but from a distance it’s like an animal’s eyes reflecting in the dark.

Image he and Hob in a dark room.

“So yeah let me get the- what the fuck.”

“What.”

“Is there a cat? Wait Is that you??…500 years and I learn you have like, animal eyes.”

“They’re stars.”

“They’re fucking what.”

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hexgirlnatural · 2 years

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shakespeare died in his sleep and is now a resident of the dreaming

hob doesn’t know until he visits lucienne in the library one time and that bastard shaxberd is just. there. chilling. reading twilight or something.

hob is so shocked he wakes up immediately and refuses to fall asleep again for 3 days

dream is alarmed when he notices his absence and rushes to look for him in the waking bc something terrible must have happened to hob

but no he finds hob teaching his class as usual with a gallon of coffee and on his most passionate anti-shakespeare tangent ever

#bonus: dream and will are actually kind of friends and he told him all about hob #and will has no idea hob hates him #and was actually really looking forward to meet the guy the king of dreams and nightmares is simping for #dream of the endless #hob gadling #hob vs shakespeare #dreamling #the sandman

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ceaselessbasher · 1 year

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A personal favorite Dreamling fic trope is Matthew as the new guy not being filled in in all the office gossip so eventually he just goes out to the Waking World to find his boss, as one does, and comes back like

#all the dreams have a) been there for Dream's past drama b) know about Dream's centennial friend with whom he has some unresolved tension #the poor new guy just got tossed it with 0 idea of any of this and has to find out in the worst of ways #the sandman #dreamling #matthew the raven #the sandman matthew #dream x hob

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linddzz · 5 months

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Dreamling is at its best when it's either "we met three days ago and the wedding is next week (the wedding is a formality, Morpheus already tied our souls together don't ask how)" or a multi century slow burn where the burn is really just a long fuse leading to a cartoonish stack of gunpowder barrels and nothing in between

#i say as i have my multi chapter fic of them continuing that long fuse after the reunion #i never claimed to be consistent #actually i still say it counts bc morpheus is about to explode from 'this is my nice platonic friend who i am learning friendship with'#to #'i want to eat Hobs heart every day like the eagle on Prometheus except im also fucking him'#it counts #dreamling

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cuubism · 1 year

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concept where hob is like: sure we are married and we kiss and cuddle and have sex and spend all our time together but he couldn't actually feel that way about me, it's just a friend thing, platonic marriage, it's different for supernatural creatures, we're just pals, besties, mates, he doesn't return my feelings--

meanwhile dream: WE HELD HANDS ONCE AND WE ARE NOW ETERNALLY DEVOTED TO EACH OTHER. I'M OBSESSED WITH YOU AND MY ENTIRE WORLD REVOLVES AROUND YOU NOW, I WILL KILL FOR YOU, I'LL DIE FOR YOU, IF YOU LEAVE ME I'M REDUCING THIS WORLD TO DUST AND THEN I'LL KILL MYSELF. THIS RELATIONSHIP WILL TRANSCEND THE HEAT DEATH OF THE UNIVERSE YOU WILL NEVER ESCAPE MY GRASP I'M GOING TO BREAK OPEN YOUR RIBCAGE AND LIVE THERE I'M GOING TO--

#yknow. just two normal guys in a relationship #hob: i love being your friend :) dream: w-we held hands why are you friendzoning me 🥺#dreamling #dream of the endless #hob gadling #dumb concept number 3450943543 there will be more

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karalynlovescake · 2 years

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Hob jolted awake to the ringing of his phone. He looked at the time as he grabbed it. 3:08am. It was Constantine.

"What?" He managed to get out.

"Hob," Johanna said "Tell me something really fucked up that will make me feel better about my life choices."

Hob thought for long minutes. She'd woken him up at 3am after all.

"Dream said once that if we ever get married, he's basically required to invite Lucifer Morningstar out of social courtesy."

Constantine made a strangled noise.

"Fantastic. Thanks, mate."

"Any time," Hob yawned. "Any time that isn't 3am."

"This is me not RSVPing in advance though, just so you know."

Hob hung up on her.

#the sandman #dreamling #hob Gadling #johanna constantine #leftover bit from what i wrote this weekend #inspired by all the you've all seen #i think Hob and Johanna should be friends

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hardly-an-escape · 2 months

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I'm thinking about a version of the story where Hob doesn't fall in love-at-first-sight with Dream. I'm thinking about a version of the story where love doesn't even really germinate until after Dream's return – and grows slowly even then.

I'm thinking about how distant Dream must have seemed for so long. how mysterious, how unknowable. about how so often, love can only take root when familiarity and friendship have already been established, when you do know a person.

and I'm thinking about how strange it must have been, in a way, for Hob to actually get to know his Stranger – to put a name to the face, to see him more than once a century, to have a more equitable exchange of their selves than had ever existed between them before. how uncertain he must have felt, at first, wondering if it's okay to seek out that friendship, that closeness, trying to figure out what's changed. about the joy he'd feel when he realizes it's not just allowed, but welcomed.

I'm thinking about a version of the story where Hob and Dream fall in love in much the same way that any two old friends might fall in love: slowly, affectionately, and based on a true and deep regard for one another. a genuine enjoyment of each other's company, rather than the excitement of mystery or the power of lust.

where they only gradually look across the table and imagine something more.

#my writing #dreamling #friends to lovers #the sandman #hob gadling #dream of the endless #this basically describes how my husband and I got together so I'm obviously partial to this kind of story lol

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teejaystumbles · 3 months

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Against all odds (a dreamling drabble)

(a 1989 comics AU where Dream does not go meet Hob despite being free)

Dream stares at the sleeping form of Hob Gadling and feels guilty.

He hadn’t gone to their centennial meeting. Despite having escaped Burgess’ cage and having recovered his tools, Dream has not met Hob at their appointed date at the White Horse.

He knows Hob waited for him. Waited until the day had gone and turned to night, after the clock had struck midnight and announced their date over. Dream knows this because he had stood, watching, for as long as the man waited inside the White Horse Inn.

He is not proud of this.

If he examines his reasons for not entering the Inn, keeping watch from the other side of the street instead, he draws a blank.

Dream does not know why he did not go inside, he knows he froze at the sight of the closed door, the cramped space indoors he could see through the glass (glass, why so much glass everywhere). He had stepped back and waited for his unease to lift, and when that did not happen he had waited for Hob to leave so Dream might meet him outside, but the man did not leave the Inn until the owner practically threw him out on the street, long after midnight. Dream had stepped forward then, only to watch his old acquaintance break down against the building wall and sob.

Why did Dream not go to him then? Why did he step back into the shadows and watch Hob drag himself up to his feet with a whimper and stumble down the street, hand trailing the wall for support. The only answer Dream can come up with is a supremely uncomfortable one.

He is a coward.

When it comes to relationships, Dream’s track record is disastrous, a fact that he is very aware of. He left Hob in 1889 with cutting words and no promise to return. Hob should by rights be angry at Dream, should be less trusting that he would show. But still the man waited for him at their next appointment, as if he had known Dream’s words to be products of his rage and not vows he would keep. Even if he doesn’t know it, Hob was right to expect Dream to not simply terminate their arrangement. Because here Dream stands, at the foot of Hob’s bed, watching the man sleep, too scared of a smug ‘I-knew-you’d-see-sense’ to dare approach him while awake.

Hob had slowly made his way home, unaware of Dream following him, drawn to him like there was a string tying them to each other. By then Dream felt like the point where he could make himself known had passed, but he hadn’t been able to leave. He kept trailing after Hob, into his small two-room apartment; had watched him shed only his shoes and then stood in the shadows of his curtains while Hob took out a small leather-bound book and pen and started to write. Dream had felt like a ghost, a nightmare watcher haunting his victim. He had carefully reigned in any stray trickles of his power to not make himself known or Hob uncomfortable in his invisible presence. After a few minutes Hob had stopped writing and sighed. Then he wiped his hands over his face tiredly and went to bed, not bothering to get out of his clothes.

Dream stands beside the table with the book now. The pages are still open. His eyes seek out the words unbidden, unable to resist the pull of the written word. He knows he is breaking a lot of taboos this evening. He is invading his friend’s privacy most thoroughly. The knowledge does not stop him from reading what Hob has written.

June 7th 8th, 1989

He didn’t come. The bastard really didn’t come. I can’t believe it. I was so sure he would show. That he was just angry, prideful and stubborn as he is, but surely a hundred years would be long enough to calm down?

Apparently they weren’t. I sat there, at our table at the White Horse, drinking one whiskey after the other, waiting like an idiot until they threw me out, and he didn’t show.

Do you even remember me? Or did you cut me from your memory, like you promised to cut all our ties, the night you left me standing in the rain? Have I left any impact at all on your immortal life that is probably much longer than my own? Surely it must be obvious to you that you have impacted my life more than anyone else. You are the only one who knows me, who knows Hob Gadling, the rough, foolish mercenary who bragged about never dying. Who raised himself from the dirt of the poor just to fall back down again, deeper than ever before. Rise and fall, and rise again only to be put in my place by you again - and rightfully so.

In 1889 I had finally managed to find some middle ground, feeling safe enough to finally be honest with you - at least partially. And it all blew up in my face.

I should have known, really. Your relaxed smiles for the last centuries were too good to be true. I shouldn’t have trusted my gut and spilled some of the beans. But it had been lonely the last few decades and I thought we had reached an understanding. I thought I knew you, if not as well as you have to know me by now, but enough to take that leap of faith.

I leapt. And you let me fall I fell again. I should be used to it by now, one might think. But when it’s you nothing is simple and the stakes are so much higher.Do you know what you mean to me? Your name is written on a wall inside my heart and I don’t think that any amount of alcohol can wash it away. And I don’t even know it. I don’t know your name but it’s in there, and it’s not coming off. I know. I tried. Although it hurts that you stood me up, I believe that you’ll come back to meet me one day. I will believe in you, no matter what. I have to, for there is no other constant in my life but you. I have to hope.

‘You’re the only one who really knew me at all, and you coming back to me is against all odds, but it’s a chance I’ve got to take’, like Phil says.

Dream does not know who Phil is, but a quick glance at the general human subconscious reveals the quoted words as part of a song by an artist Hob seems to be referring to. Dream perceives the song’s lyrics and its general feeling and swallows heavily. It appears to be an apt choice for Hob’s current emotional state. He reads the last few words while the notes of the song linger in his mind.

So I’ll be here when you’re ready. I hope you know how to find me when they inevitably tear the old place down, but I guess you do. I hope so. I really hope so. I just want to know that you’re okay. I need to know that I’m not alone. There are others like me, I’ve met some. But it’s not the same. No one is like you. No one is as

Please come back

The words cut off abruptly, Hob having clearly been too tired to write more. Dream’s newly reclaimed powers put everything in much sharper relief. Shutting off the flow of emotions from the subconscious comes both easier and harder somehow. Pulling himself back into this singular humanoid shape at Hob’s bedside takes a particular effort he had forgotten since he furnished his ruby. It is not hard, but a task he has to accustom himself to again. Dream pauses for several minutes, quite literally collecting himself, unsure of his next actions.

He looks at Hob again. His face is slack in his sleep, relaxed and calm. Dream only glances at Hob’s dreams to ascertain if they are calm or troubled but finds nothing too upsetting. He does not want to intrude further than he already has so he keeps himself from viewing his friend’s dreams.

His friend. Friend. The word that had sent Dream running in affront a century ago. Despite himself, struck by a sudden urge to talk to Hob, Dream inhales sharply and silently sits down on the chair in front of the open notebook. He carefully picks up the pen and sets it to the empty paper below Hob’s own words.

My friend.

I apologise for missing our meeting

I owe you more than one apology. You were correct in your assessment the last time we met. I was am lonely. With one word you dismantled my defences and left me too vulnerable to bear at the time. I was rude to you, and I regretted my words as soon as I had left you. However, as you well know, I am a prideful, stubborn being. Strange, to be able to admit it so easily now. I’ve always known it, and you’re not the first to call me out on it, but of course I would never have allowed anyone who talked to me like that to speak to me again. So I told you I’d leave you, not able to accept that you were, ARE, my friend.

And that I need you, like you need me

I have not forgotten you, Hob Gadling. I do not forget anyone. You are cradled in the vastness of my being like every other mind, your story preserved for all time. This, of course, you cannot know, as I have never introduced myself to you. Again, something I’d like to apologise for. I will, however, endeavour to give you my name in person, and soon.

I would have done so today yesterday, but. For some reason I cannot name I felt unable to approach you or enter our usual meeting place. I know you waited and I am deeply sorry for troubling you.

You have indeed made an impact on my life. Maybe not in the same way I did on yours, but nonetheless our meetings have become something I look forward to. You surely wonder why I never told you who I am. I was not able to admit it a hundred years ago, but to meet you, who knows nothing of my role and my duties, is freeing in a way nothing else is in my existence. You look upon me as your friend, and nothing else. You cannot imagine how much I enjoy the time spent in your presence, listening to your accounts of the last century.

I could not

I was unable to experience much of human history over the last century. This has left me with a certain uneasiness in regards to humanity. I would humbly ask for your patience, once again. As I am trying to gather the courage find the time to gather the courage to meet you in person. Perhaps this book can provide a form of communication, for the time being.

Sincerely, your old friend

Dream drops the pen like it’s burning his fingers and rises swiftly, stepping back from the table and notebook before he can rip out the page he has written in a fit of panic. He has revealed far more than he intended to but it is only fair to leave Hob these words, after what he has put him through.

Dream allows himself one last look at Hob, still sleeping peacefully, before returning back to the Dreaming. There is much to think about. His reluctance to interact with humanity cannot stand if he is to perform his function. Walking with Death has helped him put things in perspective again but he still fears. What? What does he have to fear? He has no need for humans liking him. As he examines his feelings and his earlier short interactions with humans on his way to the White Horse, Dream realises that he does not care about all humans. He only cares about how Hob perceives him.

Perhaps knowing that he had to introduce himself this time, clearly owing it to his friend, Dream had been afraid of losing Hob’s easy camaraderie. Surely exposing himself as Endless will have a pruning effect on Hob’s relaxed and friendly demeanour. Dream does not want that. But perhaps… No. He will wait for Hob’s reply in his notebook, if it comes. Should he choose to answer Dream, he will then decide how to proceed further. Surely any speculation right now is fruitless.

Trying to put the matter out of his mind for now, Dream goes to resume his work. He is aware enough to know that fear of Hob’s reaction was not the only reason he didn’t enter the White Horse. He needs to work through some things. Perhaps some new nightmares made of planes of suffocating glass will help him put some things behind him.

[Spoiler: of course they won’t, oh honey 🥺]

Part 2

#my friends and I used to write to each other in notebooks and exchange it back and forth #(that was before mobile phones so it was the ancient way of texting your bff the random shit you think of at night)#I will probably write more for this #dreamling #the sandman fanfiction #teejay writes #1989 au

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densewentz · 6 months

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where is my Dreamling Bridgerton!au with Diamond of the Season Dream and rakish Duke Gadling who pretend to form an attachment after Dream's meddling sibling destroys his marriage prospects and he is left pursued by none but the wretched Lord Burgess

#sorry but i unapologetically love bridgerton #its a period piece fake dating au sprinkled with courtly love and intrigue #and there are so many nuances in s1 that could be used in a Dreamling au #Dreamling #dream must simply marry the man who feels like his dearest friend

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