tannertan36
#extradirty
Sweet Seals For You, Always
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Today's Document
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TVSTRANGERTHINGS
shark vs the universe
Xuebing Du
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"
Cosmic Funnies
JVL
art blog(derogatory)
RMH
ellievsbear
⣠Chile in a Photography âŁ
pixel skylines
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her
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@thedreamweaverxx
he looked up at the sky for a moment before smiling ever so slightly "nothing of use to you. anywho, have you ever jammed your hands in a door?"
âMmm. Canât say I have. I need my fingers for my work, sweetheart.â Sandman hummed, titling his head. âHave you ever left your heart behind?â
"most of the time, yes"
âWhat do they say? Iâm interested. Genuinely.âÂ
The cure to insomnia
Dreams are easy to conjure, itâs the sleep thatâs the hard part. Sandman felt himself burning out, the candle lit from both ends. In a desperate attempt to find his friends in childrenâs dreams, he rarely found himself taking his own rest. He knew itâd be forced on him eventually, when he collapsed into sleep. It wouldnât be the first time. He just had to keep searchingâŚ
Benzedrine had taken a liking to wandering around the place he used to call home. Not just the house, but the surrounding area. While yes, the house itself was starting to get cleaned up, and heâd probably decide to move back in any day now, it didnât change him being almost on edge back here.
He wandered the woods, watching them get progressively darker as he wandered until he did, in fact, reach a set of black gates.
Right. Sandman was usually here from what he remembered. And maybe that was why he entered, cautiously at first until it just continued to be a walk late at night.
Besides, the more familiar the land became to this new him, the more he remembered from past him. Before Shadow really became a prominent figure in his life. Before he went selfproclaimedly insane. And as he walked through the darkness, he hummed a little tune to himself, giving moreso the impression of a ray of sunlight traversing through the dark night.
Sandman stood in the menagerie behind his treehouse, conjuring dreams and visions. The jars of images clinked off each other as he floated them around, making magic and nightmares happen for the world.
Letting his eyes close briefly, he felt a strange pang of a headache brewing. Something that only happened when shadows drew in closer to his home. Shaking the thought off, he continued in his work, thinking nothing of the bright light that was now cutting through the fog surrounding him.
Benzedrine didnât realize how close he was wandering until he stopped dead in front of the menagerie, honestly almost running into it. Heâd waited in front of it for a long moment, trying to figure what to do. Did he go in? Did he go around? Or did he justâŚgo back the way he came?
He rubbed his forehead as he tried to decide, but eventually pressed the door open and stepped in. Heâd almost figured it was empty- why would anyone be in there? Though, Benze stopped humming once he was inside, almost regretting the yellow sweater that stuck out like a sore thumb.
Whipping around at the sound of the door, Sandman cursed at the sound of glass shattering to the floor. Hallucination, thatâs what this was called. The Doctor reminded him of this before everything happened. If he didnât sleep enough, heâd start to see things that werenât there.
âYouâre not really here.â Mumbling slightly, the dream maker tried to shake off the heaviness in his eyelids.
Benze looked around curiously, but eventually found it in him to shake his head as he slowly approached again. âNo, Iâm here. I took a walk, I wasnât expecting to find you,â he said. He wasnât expecting to find much of anyone. âYou donât look so hot yourselfâŚâ
âWhen did you get here?â Sandman frowned, stepping forward. The haze of fog and smoke of sleeplessness filtered to the ground allowing him to look at Benzedrine a little more closely. He was the same and yetâŚdifferent. âYou lookâŚnormal. In a good way. In a way that makes you not look like ticking clocks and molting feathers.âÂ
While Benze didnât understand it, he didnât really say anything about it. âI mean, Iâm still in my city clothes if thatâs what you mean,â he said, âor maybe itâs that I think Iâm alone for the first time in awhile.â
For a few moments, he was quiet, forgetting entirely about the first question. âOh, right,â he finally said, straightening out, âIâve been in and out, but I, um, just got here.â
âAlone? No shadows? How does it feel?â Sandman stepped closer, studying the doctor in front of him. He could see the light in the blue of Benzedrineâs eyes. âIâve missed you here. Are you staying?â
Benze nodded. âProbably,â he said after a minute. âI think Iâm finally coming back, IâŚforgot how much I miss it here.â He sort of looked back at the outside world after the notion, sighing a little. âI think my shadow was too scared to come in these woods.â
âScared? Are you still scaredâŚ?â Sandman paused, studying Benze a little more. âThe world will always accept you here, you know that?â
The cure to insomnia
Dreams are easy to conjure, itâs the sleep thatâs the hard part. Sandman felt himself burning out, the candle lit from both ends. In a desperate attempt to find his friends in childrenâs dreams, he rarely found himself taking his own rest. He knew itâd be forced on him eventually, when he collapsed into sleep. It wouldnât be the first time. He just had to keep searchingâŚ
Benzedrine had taken a liking to wandering around the place he used to call home. Not just the house, but the surrounding area. While yes, the house itself was starting to get cleaned up, and heâd probably decide to move back in any day now, it didnât change him being almost on edge back here.
He wandered the woods, watching them get progressively darker as he wandered until he did, in fact, reach a set of black gates.
Right. Sandman was usually here from what he remembered. And maybe that was why he entered, cautiously at first until it just continued to be a walk late at night.
Besides, the more familiar the land became to this new him, the more he remembered from past him. Before Shadow really became a prominent figure in his life. Before he went selfproclaimedly insane. And as he walked through the darkness, he hummed a little tune to himself, giving moreso the impression of a ray of sunlight traversing through the dark night.
Sandman stood in the menagerie behind his treehouse, conjuring dreams and visions. The jars of images clinked off each other as he floated them around, making magic and nightmares happen for the world.
Letting his eyes close briefly, he felt a strange pang of a headache brewing. Something that only happened when shadows drew in closer to his home. Shaking the thought off, he continued in his work, thinking nothing of the bright light that was now cutting through the fog surrounding him.
Benzedrine didnât realize how close he was wandering until he stopped dead in front of the menagerie, honestly almost running into it. Heâd waited in front of it for a long moment, trying to figure what to do. Did he go in? Did he go around? Or did he justâŚgo back the way he came?
He rubbed his forehead as he tried to decide, but eventually pressed the door open and stepped in. Heâd almost figured it was empty- why would anyone be in there? Though, Benze stopped humming once he was inside, almost regretting the yellow sweater that stuck out like a sore thumb.
Whipping around at the sound of the door, Sandman cursed at the sound of glass shattering to the floor. Hallucination, thatâs what this was called. The Doctor reminded him of this before everything happened. If he didnât sleep enough, heâd start to see things that werenât there.
âYouâre not really here.â Mumbling slightly, the dream maker tried to shake off the heaviness in his eyelids.
Benze looked around curiously, but eventually found it in him to shake his head as he slowly approached again. âNo, Iâm here. I took a walk, I wasnât expecting to find you,â he said. He wasnât expecting to find much of anyone. âYou donât look so hot yourselfâŚâ
âWhen did you get here?â Sandman frowned, stepping forward. The haze of fog and smoke of sleeplessness filtered to the ground allowing him to look at Benzedrine a little more closely. He was the same and yetâŚdifferent. âYou lookâŚnormal. In a good way. In a way that makes you not look like ticking clocks and molting feathers.âÂ
While Benze didnât understand it, he didnât really say anything about it. âI mean, Iâm still in my city clothes if thatâs what you mean,â he said, âor maybe itâs that I think Iâm alone for the first time in awhile.â
For a few moments, he was quiet, forgetting entirely about the first question. âOh, right,â he finally said, straightening out, âIâve been in and out, but I, um, just got here.â
âAlone? No shadows? How does it feel?â Sandman stepped closer, studying the doctor in front of him. He could see the light in the blue of Benzedrineâs eyes. âIâve missed you here. Are you staying?â
"magpies. i like to count them, they determine your future. one for sorrow, two for joy and such"
âAnd youâve found such a future in the plenty of magpies youâve seen?âÂ
The cure to insomnia
Dreams are easy to conjure, itâs the sleep thatâs the hard part. Sandman felt himself burning out, the candle lit from both ends. In a desperate attempt to find his friends in childrenâs dreams, he rarely found himself taking his own rest. He knew itâd be forced on him eventually, when he collapsed into sleep. It wouldnât be the first time. He just had to keep searchingâŚ
Benzedrine had taken a liking to wandering around the place he used to call home. Not just the house, but the surrounding area. While yes, the house itself was starting to get cleaned up, and heâd probably decide to move back in any day now, it didnât change him being almost on edge back here.
He wandered the woods, watching them get progressively darker as he wandered until he did, in fact, reach a set of black gates.
Right. Sandman was usually here from what he remembered. And maybe that was why he entered, cautiously at first until it just continued to be a walk late at night.
Besides, the more familiar the land became to this new him, the more he remembered from past him. Before Shadow really became a prominent figure in his life. Before he went selfproclaimedly insane. And as he walked through the darkness, he hummed a little tune to himself, giving moreso the impression of a ray of sunlight traversing through the dark night.
Sandman stood in the menagerie behind his treehouse, conjuring dreams and visions. The jars of images clinked off each other as he floated them around, making magic and nightmares happen for the world.
Letting his eyes close briefly, he felt a strange pang of a headache brewing. Something that only happened when shadows drew in closer to his home. Shaking the thought off, he continued in his work, thinking nothing of the bright light that was now cutting through the fog surrounding him.
Benzedrine didnât realize how close he was wandering until he stopped dead in front of the menagerie, honestly almost running into it. Heâd waited in front of it for a long moment, trying to figure what to do. Did he go in? Did he go around? Or did he justâŚgo back the way he came?
He rubbed his forehead as he tried to decide, but eventually pressed the door open and stepped in. Heâd almost figured it was empty- why would anyone be in there? Though, Benze stopped humming once he was inside, almost regretting the yellow sweater that stuck out like a sore thumb.
Whipping around at the sound of the door, Sandman cursed at the sound of glass shattering to the floor. Hallucination, thatâs what this was called. The Doctor reminded him of this before everything happened. If he didnât sleep enough, heâd start to see things that werenât there.
âYouâre not really here.â Mumbling slightly, the dream maker tried to shake off the heaviness in his eyelids.
Benze looked around curiously, but eventually found it in him to shake his head as he slowly approached again. âNo, Iâm here. I took a walk, I wasnât expecting to find you,â he said. He wasnât expecting to find much of anyone. âYou donât look so hot yourselfâŚâ
âWhen did you get here?â Sandman frowned, stepping forward. The haze of fog and smoke of sleeplessness filtered to the ground allowing him to look at Benzedrine a little more closely. He was the same and yet...different. âYou look...normal. In a good way. In a way that makes you not look like ticking clocks and molting feathers.âÂ
The cure to insomnia
Dreams are easy to conjure, itâs the sleep thatâs the hard part. Sandman felt himself burning out, the candle lit from both ends. In a desperate attempt to find his friends in childrenâs dreams, he rarely found himself taking his own rest. He knew itâd be forced on him eventually, when he collapsed into sleep. It wouldnât be the first time. He just had to keep searchingâŚ
Benzedrine had taken a liking to wandering around the place he used to call home. Not just the house, but the surrounding area. While yes, the house itself was starting to get cleaned up, and heâd probably decide to move back in any day now, it didnât change him being almost on edge back here.
He wandered the woods, watching them get progressively darker as he wandered until he did, in fact, reach a set of black gates.
Right. Sandman was usually here from what he remembered. And maybe that was why he entered, cautiously at first until it just continued to be a walk late at night.
Besides, the more familiar the land became to this new him, the more he remembered from past him. Before Shadow really became a prominent figure in his life. Before he went selfproclaimedly insane. And as he walked through the darkness, he hummed a little tune to himself, giving moreso the impression of a ray of sunlight traversing through the dark night.
Sandman stood in the menagerie behind his treehouse, conjuring dreams and visions. The jars of images clinked off each other as he floated them around, making magic and nightmares happen for the world.
Letting his eyes close briefly, he felt a strange pang of a headache brewing. Something that only happened when shadows drew in closer to his home. Shaking the thought off, he continued in his work, thinking nothing of the bright light that was now cutting through the fog surrounding him.
Benzedrine didnât realize how close he was wandering until he stopped dead in front of the menagerie, honestly almost running into it. Heâd waited in front of it for a long moment, trying to figure what to do. Did he go in? Did he go around? Or did he justâŚgo back the way he came?
He rubbed his forehead as he tried to decide, but eventually pressed the door open and stepped in. Heâd almost figured it was empty- why would anyone be in there? Though, Benze stopped humming once he was inside, almost regretting the yellow sweater that stuck out like a sore thumb.
Whipping around at the sound of the door, Sandman cursed at the sound of glass shattering to the floor. Hallucination, thatâs what this was called. The Doctor reminded him of this before everything happened. If he didnât sleep enough, heâd start to see things that werenât there.
âYouâre not really here.â Mumbling slightly, the dream maker tried to shake off the heaviness in his eyelids.
áá°á°á,áŚáááá,áĄáŁááᥠáŠááááĄáááá ááááá,ááááŞáá áááŁáááá áá ááŽáááá á¨áááâŚ
The cure to insomnia
Dreams are easy to conjure, itâs the sleep thatâs the hard part. Sandman felt himself burning out, the candle lit from both ends. In a desperate attempt to find his friends in childrenâs dreams, he rarely found himself taking his own rest. He knew itâd be forced on him eventually, when he collapsed into sleep. It wouldnât be the first time. He just had to keep searchingâŚ
Benzedrine had taken a liking to wandering around the place he used to call home. Not just the house, but the surrounding area. While yes, the house itself was starting to get cleaned up, and heâd probably decide to move back in any day now, it didnât change him being almost on edge back here.
He wandered the woods, watching them get progressively darker as he wandered until he did, in fact, reach a set of black gates.
Right. Sandman was usually here from what he remembered. And maybe that was why he entered, cautiously at first until it just continued to be a walk late at night.
Besides, the more familiar the land became to this new him, the more he remembered from past him. Before Shadow really became a prominent figure in his life. Before he went selfproclaimedly insane. And as he walked through the darkness, he hummed a little tune to himself, giving moreso the impression of a ray of sunlight traversing through the dark night.
Sandman stood in the menagerie behind his treehouse, conjuring dreams and visions. The jars of images clinked off each other as he floated them around, making magic and nightmares happen for the world.
Letting his eyes close briefly, he felt a strange pang of a headache brewing. Something that only happened when shadows drew in closer to his home. Shaking the thought off, he continued in his work, thinking nothing of the bright light that was now cutting through the fog surrounding him.
The cure to insomnia
Dreams are easy to conjure, itâs the sleep thatâs the hard part. Sandman felt himself burning out, the candle lit from both ends. In a desperate attempt to find his friends in childrenâs dreams, he rarely found himself taking his own rest. He knew itâd be forced on him eventually, when he collapsed into sleep. It wouldnât be the first time. He just had to keep searching...
he was more than confused by this point. was he the canary? was this... F L I R T A T I O N? "whats your favourite kind of bird?"
âWell that all depends on the date and time. Sometimes itâs the raven, on a Monday at four in the morning itâs a canary. Very rarely at nine in the afternoon itâs a phoenix.â Sandman let his smile do the speaking for him, raising a brow at the man. âWhatâs yours, sweetheart?â
"hm." he pouted, leaning on his cane for a moment and tapping on his lips as he thought "and why's that?"
âBecause the canary is bright like the sun and speaks to me wonderful things. The ravens are quiet.â Sandman hummed, looking to the sky.
"you can just call me sweetheart, for now" he gave sandman a quick wink, strolling around him again "now, tell me, can you hear the birds?"
âWell, sweetheart,â The word tasted bitter in his mouth, watching the man out of the corner of his eye. âI only hear one bird. A canary.â
he looked at his fingers for a moment before shaking his head "i dont believe you asked my name, mr sandman"
A sickly sort of grin crossed the Sandmanâs face and he leaned in closer, desperate for a taste of the mans fear. âWhatâs your name? Hardly seems fair you already knew mine.â
"nothing" he smiled, somewhat proudly, but more forcibly maybe- "im not easily frightened, i believe"
âEveryoneâs afraid of something. Please, do let me play with your brains and weâll find out together. If you wonât tell me your name, at least tell me your fear.â Reaching out with gloved fingers, he wanted so badly to touch and mold something horrifying for the new comer.
"hard to believe in what youve never had" he shrugged, walking circles around sandman now "though, you dont seem very sandy... or manly"
âPerhaps youâre not looking close enough.â Sandman let the man circle him, shrugging off the attention. âWhat are you afraid of, mm? What catches you alone in the dark, child?â
