TheResearcher
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Could it be that you and me are the lucky ones? by sweet_tangerine_dreams
Fandoms: The Sandman (TV 2022)
12 Sep 2022
Tags
Summary
Another flash of lightning spills past the curtains, and his lights flicker into oblivion, his tv shuts itself off and his entire living room goes pitch-black. Hob sits straighter, looking around his darkened surroundings in stilted confusion when suddenly everything flares back to life again. His TV remains shut off, but his lights blink back on like they were never out at all.
And between pitch-black and bright lights and the roar of thunder and the deafening stillness between it all – Dream materializes out of the shadows.
The man sits on his sofa, suddenly, unbidden, unannounced, and uninvited.
“Hello, Hob,” he says softly.
Hob does what any other person would’ve done when an anthropomorphic personification materializes on your couch; he screams and chucks his glass of whiskey at his face.
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.EDIT: this will be a stand-alone because I don't feel like the other chapters compliment it very well. Sorry for the confusion
Series
- Part 1 of A dreamer, he is
Bookmarked by TheResearcher
12 Jun 2026
Bookmarker's Notes
(Summer is late August evenings, the dead bruised faces of sons, and bloody messes of wives. It’s picking out coffins, it’s holding a still-born baby in his arms. It’s grief and pain and the smell of graveyards and the stink of flowers that clings to the priest’s robe)
Thunder rattles the building, causing the lights to flicker maniacally for a second. Hob just sighs, slinking further back into his couch.
It doesn’t scare Hob much anymore. The most it causes him is anxiety, a pounding heart, and sweaty palms. It used to be much worse, once upon a horrible time, where a simple popping of a bottle had him throwing himself on the floor in a panic.
He’s a lot better at dealing with it now. He supposes it's one of time’s many virtues, her gentle hand guiding the pain to some far away corner in the back of his mind, to fade the scars on his long-lived body so he won’t be reminded of it.
The phantom pains will probably stay forever, the horror of it more alive than dead in his memories and dreams. He lost a leg due to a mortar shell once. Those were a hellish few months.
After the second world war he tapped out. No more wars for him. When the Vietnam war began he turned a blind eye. He was still roaming London like a ghost. Lost, and so incredibly sad. Someone called him shell-shocked once – and maybe he had been. His memory of the mid forties to the late sixties are lost to time, a blank space that remains in his mind, a chasm in him that cuts deeply.
Now, though, the pain is buried underneath a layer of skin, and Hob only took jobs that were soft and needed more than soldiers.
He became a doctor for a while, and delivered a handful of babies before he had to guide a still-born out of a wailing mother’s womb, the whole situation too much like the one he went through himself. He cried himself to sleep that night and turned in his resignation the very next morning. After that, he worked as a store-clerk. Spent some years on the street with a guitar, translated some books from Old English to modern language, and became a chef in a three star restaurant.
...
& bubble baths
& confessions
& love
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What Is Temptation if It Is Not a Dream? by StormEnchanter
Fandoms: The Sandman (TV 2022), The Sandman (Comics)
11 Sep 2022
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Summary
“So do not mistake me for a fool, Hob Gadling, I am cognizant of your intentions and your requisition of offering me a drink at another establishment. If it did not break our already agreed upon rules, I would be forced to decline for other reasons alone.”
Dream pulls back, just enough so that he can watch the faint hints of pink spread across Hob’s cheeks, the slight bob of his Adam’s apple in the long column of his throat. Hob inhales a steadying breath to ask, “And what reasons are those?” His breath all but catches in his throat, a delicious shiver rolling down his back when Dream speaks.
“If it weren’t so dangerous for you, Hob Gadling, I would indulge you and you would never be so bold again to think of another, but as it were you will wait hundreds of years more until I make your dreams a reality.”
****
Or: Dream is aware of the type of daydreams Hob Gadling has, the sort where the immortal mortal, pushes Dream up against the nearest wall and kisses him until they're both breathless. Dream of course, being the little shit he is, doesn't reveal that he knows until 1789.Bookmarked by TheResearcher
12 Jun 2026
Bookmarker's Notes
Dream may not be mortal, but he is a god and gods do not grant desires so easily.
So when Dream’s lips quirk in that rare smile of his, that he’s only shown Hob a handful of times. His lips pull, eyes darkening into two twin pin drops of dark ink as Hob involuntarily shudders. His daydreams pulse with want and need and they pulse even louder when Dream lifts his hand, palm settling against Hob’s neck, his fingers as cool as marble, wrap around the column of his throat to brush faintly against Hob’s nape.
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Summary
Morpheus looked at him, gaze unfocused and dark eyes outlined in darker circles. Hob knew in that instant that Morpheus had been running himself into the ground since he last saw him. The ragged, desperate breaths didn’t help.
The hand Hob grabbed was shaking, barely any movement, but it was shaking. Morpheus was the lord of dreams, he did not shake. At least, he hadn’t.
Bookmarked by TheResearcher
11 Jun 2026
Bookmarker's Notes
Morpheus stared at him, eyes searching his face for— for something, Hob didn’t know what, but if he knew, he would’ve given it to him in an instant.
He seemed to find it eventually, eyes finally settling on his own, as one of his hands let go of Hob’s arm. Hob feared for a moment, but Morpheus’ hand was back quickly, grabbing hold of Hob’s own. There was something in his hand, Morpheus was pushing something into his hand, and—
“What is this?” Hob asked, staring down. It was a key, black and skeletal, covered in so much rust Hob had half a mind to worry about tetanus.
“Open any lock with this to enter the Dreaming, straight to my chambers,” Morpheus explained, and Hob froze.
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Tags
Summary
The morning after Hob and Dream meet at the New Inn. And all that it entails.
A sequel to Absent Friends and second in the trilogy.
Series
- Part 2 of Absent Friends
Bookmarked by TheResearcher
09 Jun 2026
Bookmarker's Notes
"You were distracted."
"I'm not distracted now," Hob challenged.
"Oh? And is your head clear now?"
"Not the least bit foggy."
"Perhaps I should put you to the test, make sure you're still in charge of all your faculties."
Oh, so he was going to take that tone? That smug but playful 'you want me and you know it' tone Hob had trotted out once or twice himself. Well, it was true. Hob did want him and he was more than happy to demonstrate that right now.
Hob planted a kiss on Dream's lips. The amused chuckle that rumbled through him told Hob he'd been expecting it. Then the kiss deepened and Hob held back a sigh. While they kissed, Hob slipped his hands under Dream's shirt. Hob ran his fingers over his stomach, and he could feel Dream smiling against his lips.
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Summary
In which Dream worries about being an ungrateful boyfriend and lover. Pillow talk and damage control ensues.
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Bookmarked by TheResearcher
07 Jun 2026
Bookmarker's Notes
Of course Dream is already lucid and sound, as if he hasn’t dug his nails into the meat of Hob’s back and panted his name upon being brought to the edge over and over again and kept there for until a good five minutes ago with Hob inside him. Inhuman refractory period and everything. As for Hob, he still needs some time to confidently tell apart left from right after each round.
...
“Alright love, time for damage control.” He reaches out to take Dream’s hands in between his, wondering for the umpteenth time about the softness of his skin. “First and foremost. Even if you were just using me for your own pleasure, I would thank you for it.”
“You cannot say such things.” Dream interrupts immediately, anxious disapproval clear on his face. “You cannot mean it.”