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madwomansapologist · 8 months

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Hi! Wanted to say that your writing style is so nice and it feels so mushy when I read them. I'm truly amazed, where do you gen an inspiration to write?

Can I please request Morpheus x reader, who picks on their skin? I've always had this stupid habit and in result fingers (and sometimes face) are always in pain or bleeding. And usually you're not notice it until someone points it out for you and things become awkward. 💀 (Also I'm so sorry to bother if your requests are closed, I checked but maybe accidentally skipped it)

It's okay if this may be weird or specific and you don't want to do it, I'm still grateful for your writings. Have a nice day!

morpheus noticing your skin-picking habit would include

synopsis: Restoring the long-forgotten library of Morpheus's realm, your last concern was what your hands were doing. Concentrated on reorganizing and looking for signs of lost dreams and nightmares, it was Morpheus who noticed a old habit of yours.

warnings: none.

ps: omg. you're literally the best. thank you for that! well mostly of my inspiration comes from things that i personally believe. you know that "write about what you know" advice? i prefer it worded as a "write about what you feel." like the last thing i wrote for Morpheus. it was a request about pregnancy, and I could just write about it, but it didn't really talked to me. but perceiving death and deciding that fuck that, the memories of my family will keep me alive—that talk to me. so mostly i guess is just that Neil Gaiman writing advice: don't be afraid of telling the truth. he said that all books are lies told by people that can put truth in them. i guess i live by that. sorry for the rant, but i'm so passionate about it. either way, hope you like this! my requests weren't close by the time you ask for it (sorry for the long wait, i was working on the birthday event), there is no need to apologize! have a great day, dear! 💙🪩

• The library wasn't going to restore itself. At least, you don't think it can. Doing whatever Lucienne told you to, it was only natural for you to focus on trying to make this realm reach its glory again. You didn't have time for anything else.

• Cain and Able were surprisely helpful with your task. The brothers may not be exactly healthy with one another, but they know a lot about this place you know so little. With their knowledge and ease of sharing it, you were closer and closer to finally find Brute and Glob.

• By the time you were back with Lucienne, you both had so much to do. It was so easy to forget about anything else. To have a break, to eat something, to sleep for a few hours. So many things to do, so much to repair, that all you could was to focus on your work. Not even an old habit of yours could have won your attention.

• You were picking on your skin. It always surprises you when you noticed, simply because you don't do this on purpose. It is just a thing that happens. Most of the times, you don't noticed until it starts to hurt or bleed. And this time, none of that happened.

• Dive into work, and with Lucienne also worrying about the realm, no one was really paying attention to your skin. Your hands picked and pushed, but with no great amount of pain to warn you about it, you just didn't noticed.

• You both heard when Morpheus entered the library. After one of his many quests to find his tools, it was a surprise that he would come back so early. Or was it late? You can't really tell how time works here.

• When you welcomed him, it took mere seconds for Morpheus' expression to change from tiredness to concern. He walked straight towards you, his hands grabbed your face with care and affection, and asked you what hurted you.

• You undertood quickly what happened. You explained to him, the awkward situation making you more and more embarrassed with every couple of words, feeling suddenly so out of place. But when Morpheus was sure that nothing had inflicted pain on you, his softness made impossible for you to remain embarrassed.

• Morpheus silenced you with sweet kisses. His lips roamed through your face, his feelings penetreting your skin. He kissed you whole before looking at you again. And the way he looked at you, the way Morpheus always look at you, made you feel so... so...

• Wide.

• In front of Morpheus, in between his hands, you feel infinite. Morpheus always finds a way to make you feel like that.

• Morpheus may not be the best person to pick on social clues, but he can read you. When you care about someone in the way he cares about you, it's easy to learn about the person of interest. Morpheus was able to understand that this habit was just another facade of you, and he would never made you feel bad about it.

• Of course Morpheus would pretty much rather you not hurting yourself in anyway, but he would never made you feel bad about it. If he ever notice you doing it again, Morpheus would just grab you hand and kiss it. It's not like being gentle with you was difficult.

• And if you ever pick your skin until it bleed, Morpheus have no problem with helping you to clean it. Morpheus can take care of you, just like you took care of him so many times before. He's just being fair.

if you enjoyed, please reblog! i promise it makes a difference ♡

@ madwomansapologist.tumblr.

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linddzz · 3 months

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My brain is on human Dreamling again where everything is pretty much the same as the Red Flags AU but instead they meet when Johanna forces Morpheus to go to a pub with her because she's sick of being the more emotionally stable one since his divorce and then the crashed and burned rebound with Thessaly. He needs to get social and get his shit together so it can be her turn to have a breakdown damnit.

So she takes him to The New Inn, where she actually likes the bartender and knows the dude would make friends with anything. Hob Gadling is an unstoppable force of chill friendly vibes and charm. Either he is going to get her bitchy friend out of his shell a bit OR it's going to be a fun night watching Morpheus play the confused and alarmed cat being confronted with an unstoppably friendly golden retriever. Win-win.

And she knows...she knows that it's a risk introducing Morpheus to an intelligent person who has a charming smile and big dark eyes. There is a huge risk that Morpheus will find out the bartender is also a history professor who likes Medieval literature, and he's going to get that keen hungry look to him.

But hey, Morpheus only really gets interested in people if they go after him first. And he's pretty but his fucking attitude is great at sending the red flags hot mess signals to every other adult around. Hob's a smart one. He's friendly but generally flirty and charming with everyone, and he's seen enough hot mess types at the bar to know what the signs are. So this should be safe.

Right????

And at first it does go fine! Morpheus has shoved himself into the far edge seat at the bar and been a huge bitch the entire time because he's been forced out by Johanna. He's sneering at every attempt by Hob to engage in friendly chit chat, already stole Johanna's drink, threw a fit and outright said "I am not above making a scene" when she took his phone so he couldn't read one of his e-books (he pulled an actual book out of his bag right after), and is overall being fucking awful. This is a man in his 30s and acting like this. He is a father. All is well. He had surely scared off any initial interest his pretty face got him. Johanna can rest easy that no one is going to make any moves that Morpheus can then fixate himself on and start working himself into spiralling fantasies of soul mates and wistful sighs.

Cue the comedy beat where she turns around for ONE SECOND and when she looks back she sees;

Hob, elbows on the bar and chin in his hands entirely up in Morpheus' space: hey ;)))

Johanna: ......fuck

Morpheus: ...................................*closes his book*

Johanna: FUCK!!!!!!!!!

#GOD FUCKIN DAMNIT GADLING #GADLING NO ITS LIKE FEEDING A FERAL CAT YOU CANT GIVE HIM A SCRAP #I THOUGHT YOU WERE SMART GADLING WHAT THE FUCK #Dreamling #human au #the dynamic with Hob and Morpheus is pretty much the exact same as the hot mess au #honestly they could be melded together and still turn into a '''fake date'''“ scenario

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ennas-aesthetic · 1 year

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I have prayed for an ending. I did not think that you would be the one to grant it.

(a.k.a Dream trying to be a better father than Time had ever been.)

The Sandman: Overture 4, 2014 // Brief Lives: Part 9, 1993

#the sandman #dream of the endless #netflix the sandman #the sandman comics #the sandman spoilers #lord morpheus #Time The Sandman #Orpheus the Sandman #breaking the cycle of generational trauma #like by all accounts Dream being the way that he is is the BEST CASE scenario #brief lives #the sandman: overture

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cosmictapestry · 2 months

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ok please please tell me what you actually imagine dream's first kiss to have been. how and why is it worse. please

haha yaaaaaaaaay baby dream war crimes <3 <3 <3 warning for canon-typical godawfulness <3 <3 <3

we’re not really given an idea of like, the spacing between endless births. we know that death and dream were close together and that desire and despair are twins. there’s no timeline though.

so, before desire and despair are born, dream is the sole juggler of the mortal psyche. i don’t think the weight of the collective is split between the psychological sibs, exactly—it’s more just that certain parts of the collective did not exist before their births—but this does mean dream was entirely alone in his experience of existence. for some time. maybe a long time. we don’t know!

there wasn’t despair or desire or delight or delirium yet but there Were dreams. All dreams All the time. and in My Favorite Characterization, that drives dream very mad very quickly. and he does terrible things and no one checks him on it. he doesn’t know what’s real and what’s not and he’s doing things just to see what will happen. he extinguishes a star to see if it actually stops existing—and it doesn’t, the dream of it and its thriving solar system still exists, so he didn’t do any harm, really. it’s fine. no one tells him it’s not fine. how is he supposed to know it’s not fine. death doesn’t care. destiny knew it would happen. time and night think everything he does is silly. so. it’s fine.

then destruction is born and he can see, finally, what’s really happening, because when he extinguishes a star the solar system doesn’t die all at once—it decays. he has to watch it crumble away and know that he did that. living things exist long enough to suffer before they die. it’s not fine anymore—he doesn’t want things to suffer, he never wanted that, why did that happen?? and it hurts now. the weight of all dreams was intolerable before but it hurts now, destruction makes things hurt. now everything he does is terrifying. he’s out of control. the mistakes keeps happening because he can’t tell what’s dreams and what’s everything else.

desire and despair are born. it gets worse. the dreams are—it’s all so awful, now. everything hurts and grieves and wants and the wanting doesn’t hurt. he chases the wanting.

he won’t harm reality on purpose—he still can barely tell what that is, he’s still messing up all the time, still out of control. he can control this, though. he can make something to—something to touch, on purpose, so he doesn’t touch anything else. if it’s just him it’s fine. so he makes something that he wants to touch and he touches it. and it feels so good to not have to try so hard to be in control.

then he sees what’s left of the thing he made and he doesn’t understand. he feels so sick. it’s the most disgusting thing he’s ever seen. it isn’t the quick clean wrath of a god. it’s the lust of a mortal. of ALL mortals.

he sits with the thing he made for days. weeks. tries to understand. he didn’t mean to do that. why did that happen. it’s so much worse than extinguishing a star.

eventually he reabsorbs the thing he made, memories and all. it is horrible. it is what he deserves. he never speaks of it.

#the sandman #morpheus #dream of the endless #sa cw #i can also see a scenario where he makes a dream specifically to hurt them whenever he wants to.#and i think he’d rationalize it by making it look exactly like him LMAOOOOOO #anyway!

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tsuyoiqueen · 2 years

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Has anyone written a "Hob Gadling meets the Endless family" that includes the parents? Because not gonna lie, as someone with very little knowledge on the comics, I'm curious to see how that would go

#the sandman #the sandman netflix #dream of the endless #morpheus #hob gadling #endless family #a hob meets the parents scenario would be so interesting #how does one go about meeting the literal embodiments of time and night #hob would probably nail it though #dreamling #hob x dream #aryspeaks #please someone talk to me about them i'm begging

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thebatshitcrazyfangirl · 1 year

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Matthew: Hey, you feeling okay? You’re looking a little down.

Y/N: Yeah, I’m fine. I just have a bad headache, probably because I haven’t slept well the last few nights or eaten anything today-

Morpheus, emerging from the shadows:

#did y’all eat/drink anything today?#did you get your eight hours of sleep last night?#no?#SUSTAIN YOURSELVES PEOPLE #this post is about me #mental heath support #the sandman 2022 #netflix the sandman #morpheus sandman #dream of the endless #dream x you #morpheus x you #the sandman imagine #boyfriend scenario

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kittttycakes · 2 years

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[blurb] i dream of you, to wake

summary: It’s hard to lie to yourself in your own dreams. It’s harder still to hide the meaning of those dreams from the one man capable of entering them himself.

contents: established Morpheus x Reader x Hob Gadling, she/her reader, no use of Y/N, third person POV, mortal (for now) reader, angst (insecurity, fear of mortality), hopeful ending, 0.8k

notes: written for “dancing” from my promptober 2022 self-challenge. you can find the entire list here. if you’d like to get a feel for the atmosphere, this is the song I was picturing in my head as they’re dancing

In her dreams that night, she dances.

She is in a ballroom she has never been in before, although it looks a bit like an amalgamation of every regency drama she’s ever loved. Her white dress twirls around her legs as her partner spins her through the crowded dance floor, her feet moving as if she’s known the steps her entire life. She thinks she would know the song that’s playing, the crescendo of violins, if only she could focus on it, but she’s too preoccupied by her changing partner.

Although the man in her arms never leaves her, he changes as they turn, from Hob to Morpheus, Morpheus to Hob, and back again. Whichever man isn’t dancing with her is watching them from the crowd, and she is becoming exhausted: the lights are too bright, the room too crowded, and she can’t focus enough to beg the man in her arms to tell her, please tell her, what’s happening.

The music grows louder, the strings drowning out any coherent thought, and for the first time, her partner lets go of her. It’s Hob, she notes absently, watching him disappear into the crowd, finding Morpheus and standing beside him, watching as she’s left alone, in the middle of a floor full of pairs.

Although she hasn’t ever before been able to control her dreams before, she feels a shift in the room as she comes back to herself, the music finally fading, the lights dimming to a more manageable level, although the couples keep spinning around her, unconcerned, as if she isn’t even there. She searches the crowd for a familiar face: Hob or Morpheus first, but then anyone, turning in circles but still unable to leave the ballroom floor.

Out of the corner of her eye, a man appears beside her, and in the logic of dreams, she knows who he is immediately.

“This is all a dream, isn’t it?” She turns and looks up at him, emotions at war on her face. She’s always been so easy to read, if you knew how to look.

“It is,” he replied, tone matching her own as he looked down at her, offering her his arm. She took it, allowing him to lead her back into the crush of people around them, the frantic pace of her earlier dancing slowed to something that feels almost soothing.

“Then it isn’t real.” She tries to smile at him, the expression not quite reaching her eyes.

“You don’t think your dreams are real? They are a part of you.”

“I’m not even awake. I won’t remember it when I wake up, or if I do, it’ll just fade away.”

“Perhaps. Perhaps not.”

“A bad dream, that’s all. It’s…better now.”

“Do you know why you dream?” He has danced them to the very edges of the group, where there is more room to breathe, and she takes a moment to appreciate the cool air coming in from the open windows at the edges of the room.

“The scientific explanation?” She frowns up at him, trying to remember anything she might have absorbed in a years-ago science classroom. Her head aches. She wants to lie down.

“Your dreams show you many things. Your hopes, your desires…your fears. Often, things you are unable to confront, in the waking world.”

They’ve stopped dancing, even if she can’t put her finger on when. She stands in his arms, making no move to pull away.

“What are you afraid of?”

Looking away, her eyes search for Hob out of habit, but he’s nowhere to be found. She can’t bring herself to say it; she doesn’t have to, but she is also unable to meet his eyes again, afraid of what she might find there. She doesn’t think she could stand it, if it was pity.

“It is not real,” he says, unbearably gently, and she starts to pull away. He catches her wrist, touch as soft as his tone. “Let me show you.”

She closes her eyes, and nods once, wanting to believe that he can.

When she wakes the next morning, her legs ache, as if she had spent the night on her feet instead of safely in the bed she shares with Hob. She can’t remember all of her dreams from the night before, but she has vague memories of dancing. These half formed remnants aren’t nearly as happy as the memories of the dream that followed: a white dress, a field of flowers, and both of the men she loves looking down at her, as if she had hung the moon.

She watches the man still asleep beside her for a moment, allowing herself to stay tangled limb in limb with him for just a few minutes longer. Later, they will talk, the three of them, together, about the fears that all three of them share. But for now, for this moment in the soft dawn light, she lets herself believe that one lifetime could be enough, not yet daring to hope for more.

#morpheus x reader #hob gadling x reader #morpheus x hob gadling x reader #morpheus x oc #hob gadling x oc #morpheus x hob gadling x oc #i liked this version of this scenario too much to cut it entirely but I edited it into something slightly different for the larger WIP #so I’m posting it by itself instead!#the reader who shall not be named wip #what tense is the final WIP you ask? I’m so glad you asked: the answer is whatever tense I wrote the scene in for at the time #which I will edit for overall consistency later!#that’s a problem for future me #promptober 2022 #kittycakes writes

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yourimaginationrealm · 2 years

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You: „Well then, the dreamland is saved and I can sleep reassured now … Weird, when you sleep already …I guess I need to go …. Or to wake up…“

Morpheus: „….. Yeah, you should be….. Thank you…“

You: „You’re welcome even firstly you didn’t want any help. So feel free when you need again help… I don’t wanna live in a world without dreams.“

Morpheus: „I can‘t promise but I overthink your offer…“

You: „I am gonna miss this world…“

Morpheus : „Don’t be, you’ll see it in your dreams…“

You: „So send me wonderful dreams ‚Mr . sandman‘, as creator of dreams and fantasies in the wake world I am your best critic!“

Morpheus: „*smiles* Is that a threat?“

You: „Do you feel threatened of me? At least, it was my idea how we saved your world and mine…, Am I right?“

Morpheus: *scoffs* „Now, you should really wake up.“

You: „Admit it, I was your savio-!

….*wakes up in bed*

You: „Oh you little…. I fucking saved your world and a**, Sandman!“

Morpheus: „Humans… always getting fast full of themselves.“

Lucienne: „And still, she saved us. So you appreciate her imaginations. Moreover, you smile-!“

Morpheus: „For a Human… she is alright.“ *turns around and walks away*

Lucienne: „Well, that’s never gonna change…“

———Next day———-

Friend: „Y/N!!! you never believed what I dreamed! About […]. Pretty amazing! You gawking!“

You: „… Did he stole my idea and used it…? At least credit me, MORPHEUS!“

Friend: „ehh Who?“

#imaginationrealm #imagines #the sandman #the sandman imagine #morpheus #dream of the endless #Dream #the sandman morpheus #the sandman scenario

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mpathicoracle · 2 years

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nothing like being not fully grounded throughout the day and stuck halfway between a daydream and reality to make me go "Hm this is certainly an intriguing development to my life" /neu

#maladaptive daydreaming #implied dissociation ment #implied derealization ment #not sure which one fits my scenario best but ykno #and here i wonder why the god morpheus wants to work with me /hj #m rambles #vent post

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thorin-is-a-cuddler · 2 years

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„I still do not see the point of this… dancing.“

„It‘s a social activity, Dream. People usually get to know each other better while dancing. Or they simply converse.“

„Hmm.“

„…“

„Ah, well, if it is conversation you wish for, sister, lately I‘ve been modelling some really dreadful nightmares and ridiculously cheesy daydreams, but most of my hours were spent on working out the mysteries of my own existence.“

„… You already seem to be quite up-to-date.“

„I have no qualms about stepping on your feet.“

„That is also not news to me.“

„Dream!“

#dream of the endless #death of the endless #the sandman #neil gaiman #tom sturridge #kirby howell baptiste #the sandman fanart #dream fanart #morpheus fanart #lord morpheus #the endless #the sandman comics #fanart #dream death #dream & death #my mind went: regency area #and i love the idea of these two dancing #tom and kirby would be wonderful in such a scenario

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madwomansapologist · 9 months

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hello everything is fine ?,

I saw your requests are open could you make an imagine with morpheus x reader where s/o want a baby "I want a baby, Morpheu." you whisper: "Your baby if you want it".

wandering to Her (or: expending the family with morpheus)

synopsis: You fear death. I mean, you love Death, but you fear dying. But after spendind a day with her, seeing her taking those who fallen and talking to those who were just born, you understood more about life than you could ever imagine. You understood why you love to dream, and then you realized something that you have never thought about before. You understood that you wanted immortality. The true one. [1K]

warnings: talking about death with Death. i've cried writing this so be aware.

ps: thanks for your request! i don't really know if he can have kids, didn't read the comics yet, so this is all speculation. it was supposed to be a headcanons, but i got emotional. i'm warning everyone: i'm one neil gaiman's post away from rewatching the whole show. hope you enjoy it!

It all start with Death. As usual.

With her, time didn't seem to work. It always went by too fast, while at the same time everything took too long to happen. She has this singular orbit. A gravity of her own.

Death is so different from what you expected. She's kind. She's patient. She's loving. She cares. Death isn't fighting to conquer more souls or anything you could've imagine she would want. She's not fighting, because they'll eventually be hers. It's easy to be aware of your own mortality when she's around.

And maybe that's why you invited yourself to spend a day with Death. You wanted to see how it was that last moment. What Death said, if she said anything at all. How people reacted. You were curious. What is death if not time acting on beings? It was a morbid curiosity, but a valid one.

"You already knew I talked to humans when they're born," Death caresses the baby's little fingers. So tiny, so soft, so singular. A being that don't know pain, wickedness, suffering. A being that need to be protected. "I've told you."

You approached the crib. Your hand pushed against the wood, swaying slightly. It was instinctual. You rocked him without even realizing it. You sniffled. "You remember what you said to me?"

At moments like this you remember how old she is. No matter how young she looks, no matter how good she is to talk to, Death is older than you will ever be able to comprehend. And she will be the last of her siblings to leave. Endless, until she's no more.

"After I breath live into you," Death whispered to not awake the babies on the maternity. If your time with Morpheys taugh you something it's that time isn't that different for the Endless. They feel it just like a human would. But you knew Death would remember. You really did. "I've told you to not fear me. I've told you to embrace me. I've told you, my dear friend, that life's destiny is death. And I warned that if you wanted to live, you would need to be willing to die. That every step you made takes you closer to me. That every book you read, every tear you cry, every friend you lost, every car you scratch, every password you forgot: you're making your way to me."

And so you realized why Dream and Death are so close. Dying is terrifying. Ceasing to exist one day without really understanding the reason for it. But to dream... The will to accomplish the things we dream of is greater than the fear of the end. It is Dream that makes us accept Death. And suddenly it's no longer about ceasing to exist one frightening day, but about existing until a fateful one.

Someone, in a past so far away that you can't even understand, decided that it was worth going on. Someone decided that a long hug was worth more than a downpour. Someone decided that talking to a lover was worth more than an earthquake. Someone decided that every disease, every evil, every pain, every tomb, every fear, every fate: everything was worth less when compared to what life has to offer.

Because someone made that choice, and then it's child, and it's child, and it's child, your grandma was born. And because she made the same decision, because she made the choice of dealing with the tumultuous in hope of something better, your mom war born. And because she made the same decision all the ancestors you remember and all the ancestors you can't even imagine did, you were born.

And isn't it what you're doing since the beginning? Choosing the hope of something better instead of the certainty of the end? Since you were eight you knew everyone dies. It took you more time to understand that it was really true. And then, since that moment, you knew what it was to be human: to be always sad because you're always aware of the end, but to choose to ignore this feeling so you can go on.

The baby sighed. He slept. He looked happy. He looked peaceful. He looked ready to be taken care of, loved and embraced. Ready to see his parents, his grandparents, his uncles. Ready to understand that he has a body, that he has a mind, and that the two are not so different from what it seems. Ready to walk, cry, love, lose, freak out, dance, sing, live. He looked ready. And so you understood that you were ready too.

"Go," Death took your hands into hers and kissed your knuckles. "Be brave."

You don't know how she knew, but you felt welcomed. You felt seen and understood. So you let Death finish her job, and went back to his realm.

To the realm of dreams and nightmares. The realm of joys and sorrows. Of fears and desires. The realm that once glowed and then decayed with the passing of its lord. For the realm that survived, proving once again that it would always survive.

You found him in the library. It must be a good day. A day without great tasks. You approached trying not to make any noise. Before you could startle him, Morpheus scared you.

"You little shit," you carressed your chest. "You want to kill me?"

Morpheus chuckled. When his velvet voice came to your ears, the fear had already dissipated. "Accept it," his tone was mischievous, but Morpheus' hold you so gently. He stroked your skin. "You lost the ability to surprise me."

You closed your eyes when he kissed your forehead, leaning towards him. Morpheus is so warm. His voice is so tender. His love is so palpable. "I want a baby, Morpheus."

"I take it back," Morpheus kissed your forehead again. He didn't pull his lips away. When Morpheus opened them again, it was as if he spoke with your mind. "As you wish."

And that, the choice to ignore certainty and dream with possibilities, is true immortality.

GENERAL TAGLIST: @suakemi @notanalienindisguiseblink

if you enjoyed, please reblog! i promise it makes a difference ♡

@ madwomansapologist.tumblr.

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synthient · 1 year

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Morpheus: "If I were an Agent. The gay sex would already be happening. :/ "

Morpheus: I don't presume, to question your judgement. However. If your plan, required someone to, "kiss the One with tongue,"

#technically morpheus 2.0 is our 'what if morpheus was an agent' scenario #but he did make a lesbian best friend within 5 minutes of meeting a human for the first time #and iirc berg had an arm around his shoulder at the end #the matrix

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fogsrollingin · 2 years

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oh how good would it be for char 1 and char 2 to go to a haunted house together and char 1 gets really scared/freaked out (spicy bonus points it’s PTSD triggers) and char 2 comforts them

#whumptober #whumptober musings #would this be spn ofmd spideypool or sandman #somehow it reverses my woobs for a couple of these fandoms #i can see morpheus comforting hob #peter parker comforting wade wilson #stede basically already did this to ed in canon #sam's still the essence of whumpee even for this scenario tho haha

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fandom · 1 year

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Queer TV

This is a strange time to be writing an editorial on queer representation. While the past year has seen an incredible uptick in queer stories being told with humor and heart on the small screen, 2022 has seen a record high of 238 proposed anti-LGBTQIA+ bills in the US—nearly half of them targeting trans folks. Representation is important, though, and demand for more queer stories is growing (and, to some degree, being met), with a lot of good books and comics making it to our screens. With that in mind, think of this as your selective chronological tour of all the times we won in the TV landscape of the last year (October 2021–October 2022).

Our dataset year started off with the much-awaited adaptation of Robert Jordan’s fantasy epic, Wheel of Time. With such extensive source material (15 books if you count the prequel, which is where the seeds of the sapphic storyline in Rafe Judkins’ adaptation are to be found), the viewership, generally speaking, was divided into book fans and show-only fans, and both camps shitposted and meme’d and reviewed with abandon.

The biggest queer-centric show we saw in the last year was the adaptation of @aliceoseman’s comic Heartstopper (@heartstoppercomic). Co-created by Alice Oseman themself, this adaptation was very sensitive to the much-loved source material. And, being native to Tumblr, these characters were bound to be welcomed with open arms when they hit the screen in an ebullient explosion of queer joy.

A run-down of the past year would be incomplete without the incredible queerdos of the Revenge who swashbuckled their way into our hearts. We’re referring, of course, to Our Flag Means Death’s Gentleman Pirate and his merry band of (living-wage-paid, no less!) shipmates. Your favorites included genderqueer Jim ‘not-a-fucking-mermaid’ Jimenez and Oluwande, Lucius Sprigg and Black Peter, Frenchie who just hates cats, and The Swede, who keeps his heart but loses his teeth. Then, of course, we have Blackbeard himself, or simply Ed, who is struggling with his identity (villain or softboi).

Based on the story by @veschwab and produced by @belletristbooks, First Kill was another adaptation that fans of vampire stories got very excited about. Add to that the fact that this was very much a sapphic enemies-to-lovers scenario between hunter Calliope and young vampire Juliette, and the pre-show excitement was palpable. The post-season disappointment even more so as fans turned to their dashes to vent about the lack of good lesbian and wlw representation in 2022’s TV landscape.

Where the cancelation of First Kill left us reeling, the Rockford Peaches from A League of Our Own came in clutch and soothed our sapphic souls. You love the show which you affectionately shortened, in good old Tumblr fashion, to a silly little acronym: aloto. Whether you’re in it for the gal pal aesthetics, the butch energy, or Uncle Bert, or some good old fashioned baller drama, there truly was something for all of your wlw whimsies here. Let’s go, Peaches!

@neilgaiman’s The Sandman series finally came out to much acclaim, and came out so gay that armchair reviewers of the homophobic sort really struggled to wrap their minds around quite how gay it is. We got pansexual serial killing Corinthian! Pansexual, demon-hunting, women-kissing Johanna Constantine! Some very loaded moments between Morpheus and Hob Gadlin! This is what dreams are made of (sort of)!

This whole list would be nothing, nada, a crumb of zilch whizzing around a black hole, if it weren’t for the writers who created many of these stories in the first place. So thank you to them. And to you, Tumblr, for celebrating the good and standing up for each other through another year. Here’s to a kinder 2023.

#year in review #queer tv #tumblr2022

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gay-dorito-dust · 4 months

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Hi! I saw your Percy Jackson asks where open and I wanted to send in a request! How would Percy react to a fem reader who is the child of Morpheus the God of dreams? Like I imagine being a child to the God of dreams would make one fall asleep randomly when they are still new to their powers, so how would the scenario play out if perhaps one day reader falls asleep on him during a movie night? Would he stay as still as possible as to not wake her up or would he do something else like gently wake her up/move her? Hopefully I made this detatiled enough but in anyway thank you!!

You were just halfway from dozing off when Percy’s voice brought you from the cusp of a deep sleep to ask:

‘Does your dad look like-‘

‘For the last time Percy no, my dad doesn’t look like Tom Sturridge from The Sandman.’ You replied before he could even finish his question. It wasn’t the first time he asked this question after watching the Netflix show ironically about a man who bore the same name as your godly father, Morpheus, the god of dreams; Something that you now had a bone to pick with Neil Gaiman over.

‘Sooo he doesn’t blow golden sand at people’s faces to make them fall asleep?’ Percy continued to ask but at this point you knew that he was only doing this just to get a rise out of you and also to keep you from falling asleep again.

‘No-will you pack it in, in trying to get some rest from today.’ You said as you lightly smack his arm whilst readjusting your head onto his shoulder for more comfort, already feeling the lull of sleep beckoning you to fall further when Percy once again spoke up.

‘But you already do enough sleeping as it is!’ He cried but tried his hardest not to move too much in fear of agitating you, knowing firsthand how much you hated your sleep being disrupted. ‘And I can’t help that!’ You exclaimed. ‘I’ve been falling asleep at random ever since Morpheus claimed me as his own. It’s almost as though I’ve suddenly developed narcolepsy or something.’ You were still getting use to your powers that for some reason would backfire now and then, causing you to have bouts of almost narcoleptic episodes where you could just be talking to someone then boom; there you were, fast asleep in the strawberry fields or on the sandy dunes of the lake as though it were the most comfortable place known to man.

It worried to everyone to begin with but upon being claimed, it started to make a lot more sense that whenever you did spontaneously fall asleep, it was easier to be accommodated for; letting you sleep because you were mad cranky when woken prematurely. Connor and Travis learnt that the hard way when for an entire week their dreams consisted of being chased by a very angry humanoid goose, as if being chased by a regular goose wasn’t scary enough. Just one of the few perks of being the child of the god who could morph dreams and enter them however he saw fit.

The subject of your tendency to fall asleep at random was soon dropped entirely as you and Percy went back to watching the movie that was already well within it’s third and final act. Well Percy was, you on the other hand…were fast asleep on his shoulder, uncaring of the crook in the neck that you were surly developing from your uncomfortable position. Percy doesn’t notice until he goes to look at you to make a joke on a certain scene but stopped and the words died on his lips as he stared at you adoringly. ‘Why am I not surprised that you’ve fell asleep. Again.’ He says softly to himself as he watched how your grip on his arm would occasionally tighten as though your dream had taken a tonal shift, only to loosen up and relax not a moment after.

Not that I needed my arm or my shoulder anyways. Percy thought to himself as he tried his absolute hardest to stay still for your benefit but he might as well have asked Medusa to make him into stone instead because he was doing such a shit job at not moving at all. It was almost as if all his limbs had minds of their own as they’d move or his fingers would tap against his thigh impatiently as the movie ended and the credits began to appear on screen; With the remote too far for him to reach without waking you up and nothing else to occupy his restless mind, Percy felt as though he was in his own personal hell and heaven, or fields of punishment and Elysium.

For one, he got to admire you as you slept, completely at peace and safe within his presence as you would oftentimes shuffle further into him, making noises of discontent when you thought you felt him move away and tightening your grip; Something he found undeniably adorable as he watched the twitches in your face and tries to guess what kind of dream you were having based off them. Secondly he desperately wanted to move, his brain was telling him to move, but Percy would rather not risk having an angry human sized goose chasing him in his dreams for the next week because he accidentally woke you prematurely from your nap. He knows you wouldn’t do that but in cases like these, it he’d know it be better to be safe and sure then expect special treatment; which upon retrospect sounded a lot worse then getting chased by a human sized goose.

So Percy allows himself the fate of being your makeshift pillow, though not before pressing a kiss to your head, wishing you the sweetest of dreams before inevitably falling asleep himself as he rested his head atop of yours, crook in his neck be damned.

#pjo x reader #pjo imagines #pjo imagine #pjo fanfic #pjo tv show #pjo series #percy jackson x reader #percy jackson imagines #percy jackson imagine #percy jackson fanfic #percy jackson fan fiction #percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians

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seiya-starsniper · 3 months

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"Oh I'm dreaming of you again. If I wouldn't be dreaming and if you would be really here, then I would tell you I love you."

*slides $5 across the table* dreamling. you know what must be done.

Ayyyy I FINALLY got around to doing this one! 😅😅 Starting my birthday off right with a present for you! 💖💖

[AO3 Link Here]

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When war comes to the Endless Empire, Ser Robert Gadling, known simply as Hob to his men, is on the front lines of the defense effort, fighting for his monarch and the love of his life. The second title is a secret he keeps close to his breast, for there are no scenarios in which a Knight would be deemed the type of lover fit for a King.

The war is long and brutal. The Morningstar Kingdom had timed their invasion well, choosing to strike in the heat of summer, ideal conditions for soldiers who were born and raised in lands far hotter and more unforgiving than Hob had ever known. Their forces are fierce, but Hob’s are fiercer, for they have something to protect, mothers and wives, sons and daughters.

Hob only has his King. Orphaned at a young age, Hob was recruited as a foot soldier into the royal army as soon as he was of age, and his quick thinking and heroics on the battlefield earned him a coveted place in the royal court, right as the Endless family had established themselves as monarchs of the realm.

Try as he did to be polite, Hob did not fit easily into a life of court politics. He could not hide his brusque mannerisms, his frank manner of speech, and it was that attitude that endeared him to King Morpheus years ago, establishing a unique friendship most other nobles would sneer at.

Hob never cared for noble opinions before King Morpheus, and to this day he still did not. It is his king’s face that he sees in his mind’s eye as he cuts down the Morningstar’s soldiers, pushing their forces further back. It is his king’s voice that rings in his ears as he and his men march through the pouring rain, caked in mud, blood, and sweat. It is his king’s eyes that Hob sees in the moments after an arrow pierces through his armor, knocking him off his horse and rendering him unconscious.

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When King Morpheus receives word that the battalion Hob was leading had fallen in battle with no known survivors, he nods solemnly and dismisses the messenger, along with the rest of his court to give those who had lost a son, brother, or lover, time to mourn.

What his court does not know, however, is that once the throne room is empty, Morpheus collapses to the floor and weeps. He weeps for his fallen people, for the lives that this pointless war has cost his kingdom, but in particular he weeps for Robert—no, Hob Gadling, his oldest and most treasured friend.

Hob had been one of the only members of Morpheus’s court that did not treat him like the outsider he was when he was appointed king. When the Endless came to power, they divided the small municipalities into their own kingdoms, placing each of their seven children as the reigning monarch. Dream had suffered many cutting remarks and passive aggressive attacks, but Hob had been open and honest with him, even if their relationship did not start off in the most positive manner.

To know now that Morpheus would no longer hear Hob’s laugh, would never again be able to break bread and share stories over a warm open fire with him, that he would never feel the warm touch of the other man’s hand upon his shoulder, was more than the king could bear. He retires early to his bed, and spends the next days alone in bedchambers, claiming a sudden illness, but in truth, he is mourning for what could have been, what he was too cowardly to reach for, what he could have had, if only he’d been brave enough to confess how he felt.

And now, it was too late.

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When Hob finally escapes his imprisonment behind enemy lines, he leaves a trail of bodies in his wake, including the head of the Morningstar King. He steals a horse and rides away into the night, desperate to return to his men and tell them that everything is over. The war is over. The Morningstar and their warriors will trouble them no longer.

When he comes across the nearest army camp flying the Endless flag, he heads immediately for the general’s tent. But instead of finding his second-in-command, he finds King Morpheus there, sprawled across what was once Hob’s bedroll, a cup of some unknown liquid in his hand. When he sees Hob enter, he freezes and drops the cup immediately, and the smell of cheap liquor fills the air between them.

“Oh,” King Morpheus whispers in a broken tone that absolutely breaks Hob’s heart. “I'm dreaming of you again.” As Hob steps further into the tent, he can see the king’s brilliant blue eyes are stained red from crying, and his cheeks too are covered in tear tracks that criss-cross along his face. It is breathtaking and beautiful, agonizing and unbearable, all at once.

“I am no dream,” Hob says softly as he approaches his king. Had he put those tears on his lord’s face? Had Morpheus thought him dead the entire time he’d been imprisoned?

“Oh but you are, for why else would a dead man stand before me and haunt my grieving heart so?” Morpheus replies, his breath hitching now as his body threatens to start sobbing anew. “Why else would I see you, if not as a reminder for every unspoken word, every regret I hold for not confessing to you you my deepest desires?"

Now it is Hob’s turn to gasp, his heart beating wildly in his breast. Surely there was no way that Morpheus was alluding to sharing the same desires as Hob. But then, why else would his king be here, in Hob’s tent, laying amongst Hob’s things, acting as a grieving widow, if he didn’t not feel like one himself?

Hob takes another step closer, and though Morpheus startles, he does not flinch back from him. Hob then kneels down in front of his king so that they are eye to eye, and steels his nerves for what he plans to say next.

“What would tell me, my liege, were you not caught in the thrall of a dream?” Hob asks. “What words do you hold in your heart that you could tell me before?”

Morpheus chuckles, and it sounds like shattered glass.

“If I were not dreaming?” he asks. “If I wouldn't be dreaming and if you would be really here, then I would tell you I love you, Robert Gadling.”

Hob he gives up all semblance of self control and brings his hands to his king’s face. Morpheus gasps at the touch and Hob wants to kiss him, wants to pull this beautiful, wonderful man into his arms and never let him go.

“You’re—” Morpheus breathes, his eyes filled with tears once more. “You’re alive.”

Hob nods. “It is not a dream,” he says. “Touch me, and feel that I am real.”

Morpheus lunges towards him and seals their lips together in a kiss. Hob kisses him back, uncaring of the fact that any random soldier could walk in at any moment. All that matters to him now is that he and Morpheus are reunited, that he is alive, and in love with someone who loves him back. That is all that matters, for tonight.

#dreamling #dream x hob #hob x morpheus #the sandman #sandman fanfiction #seiya writes dreamling #seiya's birthday prompt fills #gonna be posting fics every few hours!

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