Hob X Morpheus - Tumblr Posts

sandman hope!hob au Pandora's box

okay so we know DC follows Greek/roman mythology to a point right? so Pandora's box must exist, and we all know the story right? hope gets trapped in the box after Pandora opens it.

part 2

wordcount: 1551

hope!hob is trapped within this box for several millennia all alone, not even taunted by captors, just isolated in the dark and quiet watching as new awful things are born within the box. I imagine the box is opened by someone just before the age of heroes begins. a scorned lover pouring all the new horrid things directly into their cheating, abusive partner and catching a very small light before it enters their gaping chest cavity. they hold hope there, magically closing the wound and sealing their lover into an endless void, outside of time’s realm condemning them to live forever in never ending pain. they do all this with one hand, carefully holding hope, they take his small form outside and whisper into their hand

“do something worthwhile with this freedom, any god out there knows we need you” the words are washy and weak “and if you cannot find the strength to do it all yourself, bless people to inspire you within the minds of the rest of us”

they open their hand and hob’s little light form takes off to see just how the world got on without him. not well obviously, a world with no hope is desolate and cold. hope goes back to his realm to call on his sister death to catch him up, and she tells him she knows just the person to do just that.

Morpheus has been around a long time. he was born after Pandora opened the box and the only word the people of his village called him was hopeless. this was not a surprise of course, hope was not where he was supposed to be, but the rest of the children still seemed to want to live. Morpheus however made it seem like a chore. he went through the motions as they came and did nothing more or less. he was a thing of beauty though, his demeanor didn’t stop suitors from pursuing him. they all did their best but none of them ever seemed to interest him. he even caught the eye of a king who gifted him a ruby necklace saying it popped against his pale skin and dark hair. Morpheus did not particularly want to keep it but his parents had insisted he keep it and marry the king anyway.

and so he did.

he was not particularly fond of his husband, but he didn’t dislike him. the marriage and his husband were just another motion. the grounds of his husband's kastro were vast and stretched for miles and ended in cliffs that Morpheus found himself standing before at the end of the many walks he took in a day. one particular evening, when the winds were stronger that usual, he found himself lingering at the cliff’s edge a bit longer and a bit closer than he normally would, and so had someone else

“are you going to jump?”

to say the voice had startled him would be incorrect, it had simply shifted his focus. the woman who the voice belonged to was dressed in a fine ebony cloth and a very simple necklace with a strange symbol he could not place, and her skin was just as pale as his, if someone had seen them together they might’ve thought they were siblings, still Morpheus did not especially care who she was or what she was doing here but answered her nonetheless

“no, but would it really matter if i did?”

“what does it matter? you know, most people have some sort of emotion towards the prospect of dying.”

“i suppose they do, don’t they? i don’t see why though, it’s going to happen whether they want it to or not”

“they probably see the beauty, or in some cases pain, that life has to offer” Morpheus tilted his head and thought for a moment before looking back at the woman

“perhaps life has nothing to offer me, nothing of value anyway” he said starting his way back to the kastro past the woman dressed in black. he had already gotten past her as she cocked her head and called back to him

“you know how you said it happens whether one wants it to or not?” he stopped and turned back to her

“yes, what of it?”

“it’s not going to happen to you”

“what?” she turned to face him once more

“you aren’t going to die, whether you want to or not. you are going to watch as life progresses and evolves into something you, at this moment, could never even fathom.” she beamed, before he could question her further one of the servants called his name, it was late and the king wanted him back in the kastro, he called back saying he’d be in soon, but when he turned to face her, she was gone.

now, hundreds of thousands of years later, as he stands in the entrance to his home, standing in the living room, the woman is before him once more for the second time. her clothes match the days casual fashion just as they had before, all black and very simple with the same necklace. the man next to her, however, is wearing clothes that fit with the first outfit he has at the very bottom of a trunk in his attic. a long pale yellow tunic with white underneath with traditional sandals. his hair reaches just above his shoulders and his head seems to have a faint gold glow around it. he's looking around at the shelves of books, movies and various musical mediums with awe before moving on to the trinkets and sculptures scattered around.

"I don't believe I introduced myself the last time we met" she pipes up drawing Morpheus's attention away from the man

"you did not." he confirms as he sets his bag down and hangs his coat "you also left quite suddenly" he adds as he takes off his shoes

"yes I did" she laughs "I'm here to rectify one of those things, I am death of the endless and this," she pauses to pull the man behind her to her side "is my brother, hope" the man smiles "and I have a favor to ask of you"

morpheus tilts his head "a favor, why would i do you a favor?"

"its not really for me, its for him" she says pushing him forward a bit

"he doesn't have to do anything for me if he doesn't want to" he says to her before turning to Morpheus "you really don't, I can figure it out by myself, sister I can figure it out on my own this really isn't necessary" his motions are slightly sporadic

"figure what out?" he asks walking to the kitchen thinking about what type of drink to get for his guests.

"you don't have to worry about it, it-"

"my brother hasn't been able to reach this realm for quite awhile, he needs someone to catch him up on what he's missed" death interrupts with a smile "and I thought who better than someone whos been around the longest?" she asks as she follows him to the kitchen

Morpheus ponders this for a moment 'what he's missed?' he pops his head out of the kitchen to take another look at hope 'based on his clothes he's probably never had hot chocolate' he thinks as he goes back in to start gathering the various types of chocolate from his pantry and put some milk on the stove.

"if I were to help him. what would I have to do? just give him the internet, could he just absorb the information?" he questions as he cuts up a chocolate bar.

"internet? what's an internet?" hope asks panicked "can it catch me? is it magic?"

"no hope, no, nononononono, it cant catch you" she reassures him "its like destiny's book but, um, well its hard to explain but its not a net, it cant catch you" she puts her hands on his shoulders and quietly says "no one is going to catch you again I promise. I wont let them"

'catch him again? where was he?' he thinks as he stops cutting 'who caught him?'

"okay no internet"

"no internet"

"i guess, i could just, i dont know, tell him stories?" morpheus suggests pouring the chocolate into the milk and stirring

"stories sound nice, i'd like to hear stories." hope says in a small voice

"you're gonna need some new clothes though," he says pouring the hot chocolate in a cup "tunics aren't exactly in style anymore. here I think you'll like this" he says handing it to hope, watching his reaction as his face lights up. like actually lights up. well not his face per say, but the light around his head.

"this is delightful! what is it?" hope beams (literally) looking into his cup

"you may not have been around but you still live within their souls, if ever so slightly. they are never truly free of you, hope" death says leaning over the counter. "anyway. hope, when Morpheus lights this candle it means he's ready to tell you a story. okay?" he nods "alright lets get you bac to your realm" "okay :)" and with that they're gone.

"..."

"I didn't even really agree" Morpheus says, holding the candle.

n e ways i hope the four people who see this and also read through all of it like it! thank you for reading!

them

Before the "BTW I love you"

Midnight escapade

Dec 2022

New Inn Newsletter

To the patrons of the New Inn. We'd like to thank you all so much for your continued support throughout 2022. And from all the staff, wish you a very Merry Christmas this festive season.

We'd like to remind you that there are a limited number of places available for our very popular, medieval themed Christmas banquet on the 23rd. And there will be an adults only, 80s themed News Years Eve party, starting at 8pm on the 31st. If interested, please call to reserve.

The pub will be closed from the 24th to the 26th to allow the staff to spend the Christmas weekend with their loved ones.

Thank you to all the parents and children who attended our family Christmas party last Saturday. We would like to apologise if any children were left upset after the incident that occurred. As you all know, our much loved pub cat Murphy, is very protective of our Landlord. We would ask you to continue to be mindful of this to avoid any further incidents.

(We would like all the children who attended to know that Santa's eye is healing well, and he'll be all better and ready to deliver presents by Christmas Eve. Murphy has said he is very sorry for attacking Santa. And Santa has apologised to Mr Galden for kissing him under the mistletoe without asking nicely first. That was very very naughty of him!)

On that note, our regular Santa, Terry Sinclair will be replaced for this Sundays Santa's grotto by a Mr Cori N Thian. We'd like to thank Mr Thian for standing in at the last minute. And we all wish Terry a speedy recovery.

Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year

Steven Royle

(Manager)

........... Meanwhile.......

Suddenly imagining someone (who has for whatever reason accosted Hob) ask Hob if he's afraid of death and Hob being like "oh no, she's my sister-in-law, she's lovely"

His unfortunate captor like ???

Hob, smiling unpleasantly: would you like to meet her or are you smart enough to let me go?

thinking about... Dream telling Desire to stay away from Hob. Telling them that he'll forget they're family if they hurt Hob or mess with him somehow. Not because Desire has done anything to Hob in almost 700 years he's been alive, but just in case. Because Dream loves Hob, actually, he loves him so much he won't say a word about it because obviously Hob would never be interested and besides Dream's love is ruin yadda yadda so he'll be damned if Desire is the one to bring about Hob's doom just because Dream was clear enough that Hob is off-limits.

Desire just... shudders in disgust and is like. No. Don't worry, not going anywhere near that one. Never been, never gonna. Not happening, thank you very much.

And Dream is just completely befuddled because Desire sounds... actually 100% honest? So Dream replies with the most confused and high-key offended "Why???", because why wouldn't Desire mess with Hob? Can't they see that Dream loves him desperately? can't they see that Hob is fucking perfect, actually, and he's Dream's best friend and Dream's whole world can't revolve around him but it's a close thing? how dare they not consider Hob worthy of being messed with?

(yes, Dream is so caught up on being offended that Desire doesn't seem to see how important and perfect Hob is that he doesn't realize that Desire being uninterested is ideal and literally Dream's desired outcome)

So Desire explains that they literally couldn't stand being in the same room as Hob. Ugh. Just perceiving him, his desires, his heart is vomit-inducing. Hob tastes of unconditional devotion to Dream. He reeks of pure unbridled scorching-hot lust for Dream. His heart has a Dream-shaped hole in it and has Dream's name written all over it. He desires the tiniest scrap of Dream's attention with the same intensity he desires Dream's hand in marriage. He'd be great if he were just greedy for life and food and drink and sex but nooo, he takes those just enough for granted these days that he desires nothing but Dream's company, Dream's smiles, Dream's touch, Dream in his home, Dream in his dreams, Dream's lips and the feel of Dream's hair and the smell of Dream's skin and the taste of Dream's- listen, it's just Dream Dream Dream in that guy's head all day every day and Desire. can't. stand it. It's not the too much desiring that's the problem, it's the too much desiring Dream that is. Desire WISHES they could just cut Hob off from their realm so they could stop feeling it, but they can't!

Anyway, this is how Dream finds out Hob loves him, and he has to excuse himself immediately to process the double delight of "he loves me back" and "this very fact makes Desire's existence absolutely wretched"

Of course, Desire's existence is about to become even more miserable as Dream satisfying some of Hob's desires is like a dam breaking open, if he wanted Dream when he thought it would never happen then watch Hob want him now that it's within his grasp. Desire never knows peace again.

I saw this post (it's a funny post about a wizard showing up at a dude's house in the middle of the night to eat his snacks and drink his beer) and immediately thought of Dream and Hob, as one does.

So, what if-

After Dream helps free Calliope, he is understandably Wrung Out because really, how many humans like Roderick and Madoc must he deal with in one century?? So he shows up at Hob's in the middle of the night but he doesn't want to wake him up - he's the King of Dreams after all; he won't pull mortals from his realm unless strictly necessary. Instead he just wanders around curiously, checking out the books on Hob's shelves, the record player, what records he has, the paintings on the walls, the remote for the TV (why are there so many buttons????), Hob's desk and the remaining stack of papers he still needs to mark, and finally, eventually wanders into the kitchen. Pokes his finger in the soil of the little herb tray Hob has sitting on the windowsill. It's a little dry so he waters them. Opens all the cabinets to see what's in them. Turns the water faucet on. Really, it's quite fascinating how creative humans can be - figuring out ways to bring themselves fresh water. He yelps when he accidentally sprays himself in the face with the sink hose. Finally opens the fridge and once again it is so fascinating how humans have created things that make procuring and keeping food so easy.

Anyway, Hob hears a commotion and treads carefully towards the kitchen and at first he thinks he's wandered into a horror movie with all his cabinets being flung open until he spots Dream, head in the fridge, slowly lifting the lid of a pizza box Hob should have thrown out a week ago oops.

"I wouldn't eat that if I were you."

Dream startles so badly he turns into a cat and darts onto the top of the fridge.

Thinking about how we, as a fandom, seemed to have forgotten the ridiculousness of the mistletoe tradition. Oh, to be kissed by a stranger under a parasitic plant in public! Why yes, sign Dream up.

Thinking about Hob decorating the New Inn for Christmas. Dream drops in unexpectedly (but certainly not unwelcome) as usual, curious to see Hob draping multicolored lights along the open shelves of liquor behind the bar.

“What are you doing, Hob?”

“What does it look like I'm doing?” and Hob would turn back to his work, and Dream would watch, fascinated. Listening to the cheery music playing through the speakers, listening to Hob speak of the centuries past, how the celebration of the Christmas holiday had been pretty steadily thus since the mid 1800’s.

“The pagan holiday?” Dream would inquire, dragging his fingers along the taped up holiday cards along the backsplash of the bar, like moth’s wings stuck out and on display. Some even transferring soft glitter on Dream’s fingers, making him rub them together curiously.

“Well,” Hob would shrug with a grin. “The Christian bastardization of it.”

“Hardly,” Dream mused. “The Romans celebrated Saturnalia in this time, honoring the god with a feast and gifts.”

“No foolin’, eh?”

And, since it was late and Hob was feeling good about the work he’d done, he’d pour Dream a glass of red and offer him a seat, both of them sitting at the bar and admiring the twinkling lights, the smell of pine from the fresh garland, the garish oversized stockings tacked to the walls, and– Dream noticed with puzzlement, a single bunch of berries and leathery leaves hanging from the ceiling in the middle of an archway.

“I do not recognize this.”

Hob followed his friend’s gaze and, “oh,” he’d laugh. But it sounds… off-kilter, nervous or embarrassed. 

“It’s mistletoe. Just this– parasitic plant–”

“Why does it have a bow on it?”

“For fun.” Hob would level Dream with a look like, lighten up. Get into the spirit.

“Elaborate.”

And Hob would hmm and haa about this relatively silly tradition about kissing under a mistletoe, how the “rule” had kind of faded away in the past decade or so, but it was still a fun little thing and Hob, ever the purveyor of all things dreadfully human, wants to keep the tradition alive, even if no one really follows along anymore.

And Dream, knowing full well he doesn’t need an excuse to kiss his immortal, very human partner, decides to humor Hob.

He slips from his seat, hearing Hob snicker from behind him, probably knowing full well what he’s about to do, and Dream walks to stand directly under the plant.

The bar is closed, no one else is in the building, but Hob looks around anyway, like there would be anyone else who would take advantage of this opportunity. Dream has to physically bite down a delighted smile as Hob shrugs– well if no one else will– and all but jumps from his stool, slowly walking toward Dream with his hands in his jeans’ pockets.

Without even touching Dream, Hob leans in and pecks him on the mouth.

Dream’s brows rise up to his hairline. “Is that it?”

“I’m afraid so, duck.” He points up to the plant above them. "They don’t hang these in public places for full blown make out sessions, you know.”

“Hm…” Dream considers this, and decides if the tradition of kissing under the mistletoe only yields one chaste thing, then he’d have to start collecting them enough to make something substantial out of it.

Cue the ridiculous montage of Hob finding Dream in various locales, venues, anywhere he’s at (even at a holiday staff party) and in all manner of positions, under a mistletoe.

“Was that even there before?” Hob would ask, a red solo cup in his hand and smirking like a fool at the sight of Dream slouching against the wall, a– quite large actually– mistletoe dangling from the ceiling above his head.

“Does it matter?” Dream would counter and Hob would shrug, fair enough, and acquiesce to the plant’s demands. It was a Christmas tradition, after all.

Or Hob entering his office at work and finding Dream draped across his desk, holding a plastic mistletoe that looked like it was bought at a drug store high above his head.

Hob would take a few moments to stand and stare, enamored by this ridiculous creature.

“You know how much I love you?” It’s not what Hob meant to say, he was going to quip something about dramatic Endless and their need for attention, but he’s so gone over Dream that his mouth barely cooperates with his brain in these situations.

Dream would preen, stretching his long legs down so they dangle off the edge of the desk, like a cat sunning himself, shaking the plastic plant for emphasis. 

“You could show me.”

This is their new tradition, every Christmas season. Hob finds Dream everywhere in the waking world, distracting Hob, raising eyebrows, and starting up strange rumor mills. But it’s in the privacy of his own home, coming back from work, and finding Dream wailing desperately against the foyer of his kitchen, a planted mistletoe hanging from the ceiling, as usual. 

“Oh, Hob Gadling,” Dream would cast an arm over his eyes. “How I’ve waited for you to come back and free me from the spell these dreadful berries have put me under.”

“Okay,” Hob would grin, biting back a laugh. “Would a kiss suffice?”

Dream would be hanging off the wall, his long, rail thin limbs bent at every angle under faux duress. 

“Oh! It might do. I feel shackled under this strange power this greenery emanates.”

“Dream of the Endless,” Hob would tease, dropping his bag and taking off his coat as he walks to his impossible lover. “Brought down by a common earthly sprout.”

“Yes, yes, now will you get over here?” 

And once Hob is within arms reach, laughing hard enough to wheeze, Dream would grab him by the shoulders and pull him in.

It should come as a relief to Hob that his boyfriend’s not a demon like he assumed in 1489, but actually the reality’s that Dream’s much worse.

He’s a cosmic force older than the universe itself, a nigh omnipotent entity with the heart of a man, therefore by default flawed, greedy sometimes cruel even. He’s a Lovecraftian horror, who chooses to appear in a lovely corporeal packaging for Hob, but that does not change his nature.

It all sinks in when Hob asks Lucienne about Dream’s helm.

“Did he craft it himself?” Hob asks, Dream, currently in the form of a cat purring content beneath his hand, showing his fluffy belly.

“In a manner of speaking,” Lucienne agrees watching amused as Dream paws at Hob’s hand to urge him to resume his scratching. “A long time ago, eons before Earth existed a demon, Beelzebub, the first general of Lucifer back then tried to expand his territory and invaded the Dreaming. Naturally, Lord Morpheus settled the battle rather swiftly.”

“Who’s a sweet little kitty? Yes you are,” Hob croons, scratching the soft, furry belly of the cat, the black tom stretching out, its eyes closed with bliss as Lucienne continues,

“He decided it was best to keep a reminder though, a memento for those, who tried to challenge the Lord of Dreaming.”

“Who’s a good boy? Yes you are,” Hob babbles and the purring’s loud enough to be heard everywhere in the library, like the engine of one of those expensive sports cars.

“—so Lord Morpheus tore out Beelzebub’s skull and spine and fashioned a helm out of them,” Lucienne finishes her tale.

Hob’s hand freezes in its motion, his mouth agape with horror, staring at Dream beneath his hand in disbelief.

The cat opens his big blue yes, his huge pupils fixing on Hob with the sweetest, most heart-melting pleading look as he tilts his head to the side and says,

“Meow?”

【Hope AU】

HOPE and DREAM✨

part three of myopic hob hehehe

I may have changed this scene just a bit just a tiny bit just a wee bit

Hob has to disclose to the university and his students that he easily passes out with no warning it’s something genetic please don’t panic when it happens. it’s obviously not really genetic, but otherwise he’d have to explain that his boyfriend is really clingy and likes to summon him to the Dreaming whenever he wants which is fine except for the fact that it makes Hob’s physical body fall asleep immediately. he could just ask Dream to stop, but then he’d see his boyfriend less, so it’s just easier to make it everyone else’s problem:)

Hope of the Eternals and his Eldritch anthropomorphic personification of boyfriend Dream of the Endless.

part 2 of my hope!hob Pandora's box au

part 1 part 3

word count: 2079

Morpheus picks the candle up and rolls it in his hand, examining it. it's not really anything special, just a yellow prayer candle. The glass is completely blank showing off the candle completely. He runs his fingers over the smooth glass considering putting something on it, like a sticker or something. Does he even have any stickers? Does hope even like stickers? Does he know what stickers are? He shakes the thoughts from his head and instead thinks about what story to tell. He'd thought about it a lot over the past few days. He's lived so long. How could he possibly choose where to start? Would hope have some sort of request?

he eventually decides to just light it, maybe his audience will inspire him and everything will work itself out once hope is here. Morpheus grabs a match and lights the candle and for a moment, everything is still. Morpheus looks around not seeing anything change and wonders if he did what he was supposed to. Maybe he was supposed to light it on an altar? Moving to a small table in his living room, he notices all the lights in his house are getting noticeably brighter until he has to set the candle down on the little table and cover his eyes from the blinding light. He keeps his face covered until he can tell the light has died down. When he uncovers his eyes he sees hope looking at him with a confused look.

"why were you covering your face?" he asks as Morpheus blinks away the floaters from hopes entrance

"your entrance was very bright" he says rubbing his eyes "if i hadn't it would have caused some serious damage to my eyes"

"oh I'm so sorry" hope apologizes stepping back and pulling his hands seemingly into his chest "I didn't know I'll try not to do it next time" he says looking down.

"It's alright, I doubt you can help it" Morpheus says turning back to the little table kneeling "next time I'll just close my eyes and face the wall after I light the candle." he assures hope as he clears the table of its previous inhabitants.

"What are you doing?" Hope asks, peering over his shoulder.

"I'm making a specific space for your candle." He explains picking up the candle to wipe down the table. He doesn't notice the endless' start to glow behind him.

"like.. an, alter?" hope inquires expectantly. no one had ever made HIM an alter before, it was always for some lesser being, made to syphon from him through a god or deity, he could feel it while he was in the box. he felt the faint pull in his chest, the construction and destruction of temples and altars made for others in an attempt to reach him through them. to have an altar made with specifically him in mind, well, it was... flattering.

"Yeah, an altar. seems like the most efficient way to do this, to get you caught up when I'm busy. I can just leave you things and you can examine them to learn about the current state of the world." he explains, dusting off his hands and standing up "does seem a little bland right now though huh? I don't think my darker colors really match your candle though, gonna have to go out and get some white and gold stuff." he adds examining the bare 'alter' with nothing but a candle, 'hardly counts as an alter right now though'

Morpheus turns to face hope, noticing he's still wearing a tunic. "how about instead of a story we can go get you a new wardrobe and some stuff for your altar?" he suggests looking hope up and down "you'll have to change though, i think my clothes will fit you"

"i- i mean- yeah, sure, sounds fun." Hob can feel himself falling through the words, first the mortal makes him an altar then offers to not only buy him clothes but choose things for his altar? He stands there lost in thought for a moment until the aforementioned mortal speaks to him once more.

"Also, will you stay here if I snuff the candle? I don't want to waste it." he asks handing him a set of completely black clothes 'he doesn't want to waste it' hob thinks with a smile. "yes I will, is there a room I can change in?" after Morpheus helps him to the bathroom and leaves hope to change, he snuffs the candle and makes a small list of the things he knows he has to get:

gold tablecloth

white lace runner

small offering tray

one (1) nice outfit for hope

they'd have to go somewhere nearby, hope doesn't seem like he'd be too keen on travelling by anything other than foot. Luckily there's a small boutique and second hand store nearby where they should be able to get everything. hob walks out with the clothes slightly askew and holding a pair of shoes.

"I do not know how to put these on," he says, raising them slightly higher. Morpheus looks up from his list surveying hope in his clothes.

"I probably should've helped you, apologies" he says adjusting the clothes slightly "but you managed to get the socks on so overall I'd say this is a success" he declares, motioning for hope to sit down on the couch. as soon as he does Morpheus kneels to help hope with the shoes

"Will the clothes we get me today look like this?" Hope asks as he watches Morpheus tie the left shoe.

"no, were going to get you something nicer, these clothes are just easy to take off and put on" he explains tying the right shoe "makes the whole process of clothes shopping easier" he sighs looking up "ready to go?" he asks standing up, hope nods. "alright let's go then."

the shops truly aren't that far. a ten minute walk at best. They don't talk much as Morpheus is too lost in thought and hope is too enamoured by the advancements of civilization, so enamoured in fact that he almost gets hit by a car. If Morpheus hadn't pulled him back onto the sidewalk at the last second he would've been very uncomfortable. He takes a minute to process what's going on and notices he is very close to Morpheus, almost burrowed into his chest with his arms wrapped around him. and Morpheus is so very comfortable and warm with the long coat he has on an-

"Okay" the word cuts through Hob's thoughts like a xiphos as Morpheus backs up to look him in the eyes and holds out his hand "take my hand."

"why?" If hob were human he'd say he could feel the blood rushing to his face as his eyes widened. but he's not human so he could soundly tell you  that he was glowing slightly.

"So you don't go, somehow unknowingly, stepping into oncoming traffic." he explains as he holds his hand up a little higher, hob takes it and they continue on their way.

Morpheus wouldn't say he was out of his depth when it came to clothes shopping, he just didn't buy color very offten. All of his clothes were various shades of black and dark grey with a few lighter greys (to which his students never failed to make a comment along the lines of 'busting out the spring collection I see' ) but looking at hope in his clothes... well he just didn't look right in black. but trying to figure out what base color to start with was tricky. black was out of the picture but yellow seemed too strong to use as a base. Eventually he settled on a white button up to layer with some sort of sweater. Maybe that's where the yellow could come in? He could worry about that in a moment, he should deal with the rest of the outfit first then the rest of the layers. He looked over all his options, made some choices and measured them against hope to get the right size and sent him to try them on and went looking for some layers. Maybe a blue sweater? but then the colors would-

"professor galanis?" uh oh "what are you doing here? its for sure not your style.'' This much was very true, though he hadn't expected to run into any of his students so he absolutely did not come up with a cover story.

"well, i-"

"hey, could you help me with this?'' The students' eyes go wide and Morpheus can't tell if the interruption is a blessing or curse but goes to help nonetheless. After defeating the buttons he hands hope a couple sweaters to try on and turns around to see his student still standing there.

"sorry about that I-"

"don't even worry about it sir." she says with a smile "sorry for interrupting your … outing." he’s going to get so many questions on Monday "i'll just-"

"actually, could you help me?" he will never hear the end of them "I'm not much of a color person and I need to pick out some accessories"

her eyes light up and she smiles wider "of course sir, i wasn't planning on buying anything anyways"

They spend far more time in the store than Morpheus had planned and by the end of the trip Hope has several outfits with accessories to match. The outfit he's wearing to replace Morpheus's clothes consists of a pair of cuffed blue jeans, a pale yellow sweater over a white button up, a string of fake pearls and a pair of converse.

"Thank you Ms. Tarcey," he says as they start heading out.

"no problem Mr. g, I came out to window shop and this was way more fun!" she says, opening the door.

"I'm sure it was," he says with a laugh "to show my gratitude, I'm willing to give you full marks on the writing assignment I know you haven't started." he offers as they get to the street watching as her eyes go wide and mouth falls open. "Now this is a one time thing. I will not offer this if you help me again." he warns, grabbing Hope's hand before he can run down the sidewalk to follow a dog.

"sir you have no idea how much that helps me" she mumbles, face still in total shock.

"I actually do," he quips. "have a good evening Ms. Tarcey. I'll see you Monday" he says leading hope to the secondhand store across the street.

"who was that?" hob asks once they're in the store.

"one of my students." Morpheus says inspecting a tablecloth. "I teach creative writing" he clarifies, putting the tablecloth back and picking up another. "What do you think of this one?" he asks, handing the fabric to hope.

The cloth is a rich yellow with a light shine, when the light hits it, shifting it reveals a pattern akin to Victorian woodwork, hob doesn't know that of course but he thinks it's beautiful anyways. He looks over to Morpheus who is carefully inspecting other tablecloths and table runners. hob notes how sharp his facial features are, how … elegant … they look. Morpheus turns back to him and he shakes the notion from his head.

"so..?"

"huh? oh, OH, yes i like it, it's perfect" hob chastises himself over how the words come out and picks up a thin lace table runner and pretends to examine it to keep his eyes from wandering. "this one's nice isn't it?"

"mm" he agrees silently, taking it from hob’s hand  and putting it in the small basket on his arm and walking towards a different part of the store. As he's following a small dish catches hob’s eye, well it's not really a dish, it's a scallop shell with a castle on a hill painted in blue on the inside and the edges are painted gold. He carefully turns it over in his hand examining it closely.

"Do you like it?"

Hob turns and sees Morpheus is behind him looking over his shoulder "oh yes, isn't it cool?" he beams, staring into morpheus's very.. pretty.. pale blue.. eyes.

"It is very pretty," he says, taking it from Hope's hand, examining it himself for a moment before gently putting it in the basket. "lets go check out." he says with a small smile and hob glows a tad.

no story, I’m just dressing up the dolls xD. aaand I’m still obsessed with Dream wearing jewellery, thanks to cuubism’s silly rabbit au, it’s precious <3

hob: i'm not gonna die, death is stupid. i'll fight death behind the inn idc

hob's mates: listen hobsie, you go knocking on enough doors asking for the devil, eventually he'll answer

dream, materializing by the table: hello hob gadling

so Dream as Shaper of Forms always looks wildly different when going to the waking world except for his centennial meetings with Hob, because then he’d have to explain things and ugh. the problem with this is that sometimes throughout the centuries he runs into Hob, who has no idea it’s him, and it would be so annoying to explain so Dream just pretends he’s a regular human who doesn’t know Hob. the even bigger problem is that the last time they ran into each other Dream pretended a little too hard or stayed a little too long and now Hob is dating his human persona??

bro this fic go crazy fr

Captivated by human wonders ☄️

Did this 100% with them from @avelera 's Giving Sanctuary go read it it's so beautiful

little bit from @avelera ‘s Giving Sanctuary