#❤️: A dreamer of dreams | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ivesambrose · 2 months ago

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𝐴 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒 𝑙𝑒𝑡𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑚𝑒𝑎𝑛𝑡 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑦𝑜𝑢 💌

Happy Valentine's Day everyone ❤️

This is a love letter with your name on it, there's someone out there who has something to say to you 💌

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Envelope 1

To the one my heart recognises,

You move through life like a dreamer caught between worlds, always reaching, always searching, always holding a litle more hope than you let on. And I see it. I see you.

You chase after the things your heart aches for, even when the path twists, even when the road splits in too many directions. You weigh choices in your hands like they hold the weight of the universe, afraid to step too far in the wrong direction. But, love, you are never lost to me. No matter where you go, no matter how far you run, I will always find you. Because I already know the shape of your soul.

The world hasn't always been kind to you, and I know you carry the weight of thingS unspoken, the fractures from moments that tried to break you. But even in your quietest battles, you are still becoming. still unfolding into someone even more extraordinary than you were yesterday. And I will be here, beside you, through every rebirth

So leap. Make the reckless choice. Follow the dream that won't let you sleep at night. You were not meant to stay within lines drawn by other people's expectations, you were meant to break through, to touch the sky, to chase the impossible and make it yours.

And if ever you need a hand to hold, a heart that won't waver, or someone who will remind you of the fire in your soul, you already know where to find me.

I am yours. Always.

Envelope 2

With all that I am,

The one who was always meant for you.

To the One My Soul Knows,

Loving you is like standing beneath the moon, soft light, deep mystery, and the quiet knowing that some things are felt more than they are understood. There are parts of you that shift like tides, emotions that swell and retreat, thoughts that linger in the silence before sleep. And I love every version of you, every hidden depth, every unspoken word.

You are a force, a wild thing that cannot be tamed, and I would never want to. There is something raw, something instinctual about the way you move through this world like you are both ancient and new, both fearless and tender. I see the hunger in you, the ache for something real, something lasting. Love is not a word you take lightly. Nor do I.

With you, I see forever. Not in the way stories promise perfect endings, but in the way two souls recognize each other across lifetimes. In the way your touch feels like something I’ve known before, something I would know again, no matter where time places us. You are home, not because you make things easy, but because you make them true.

I want to build a life with you, not just in the quiet, beautiful moments, but in the raw, messy, achingly real ones. I want to know the thoughts you never say aloud, the dreams you keep close to your chest. I want to trace every part of you, mind and body, learning you in ways no one else ever has.

Loving you is a temple I will worship in for as long as you’ll let me. You are the question, the answer, the universe wrapped in skin. And if there is a destiny greater than this, I do not want to know it.

You are mine, and I am yours. In this life, and in every one after.

Forever,

The one who chooses you.

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To the One Who Holds My Heart,

Loving you is an unfolding, slow, steady, something delicate but unshakable. It isn’t always easy, and I know that. You carry so much in that beautiful mind of yours, thoughts that keep you awake when the world is quiet, worries that press against your chest like weights only you can feel. But you don’t have to hold it all alone. Not with me.

I see you. The way you give, the way you pour yourself into others, always making sure there is enough love to go around. But love, when was the last time you let yourself receive? When was the last time you let someone hold you the way you hold everyone else? I want to be that for you. Not just in fleeting moments, but in all the ways that matter.

I don’t need you to have it all figured out. I don’t need you to be perfect. I only need you to know that you are already enough, just as you are. Even in your quiet, even in your uncertainty, even in the moments you hesitate to let yourself be fully seen. You don’t have to keep your heart wrapped in caution, hidden away like a gem buried deep in the earth. Let it breathe. Let it shine.

Love doesn’t have to be rushed. It doesn’t have to be forced. It’s something we build, something we water, something that grows in its own time. So take my hand. Let’s rest in this moment together, without worrying about what comes next.

Because no matter how long it takes, no matter how many times the world shifts around us, I will still be here.

Always,

The one who chooses you, again and again.

#free readings #tarot community #divination community #pick a card #pac #love pick a card #love reading #love pick a pile #valentine's day pick a pile #tarot readers #spirituality

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sin-tax-errotic · 5 months ago

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Supernatural Fics

LEGENDS: 💦- SMUT | 💗- FLUFF | 💔- ANGST

DEAN WINCHESTER

💦AN ANGEL by sleepyangelkam (Dom!Dean)

💦Still Love Me? by dean-winchester-is-a-warrior (MoC!Dean)

💦Until My Dying Breath by winchester-fantasies (MoC!Dean)

💗Trust Me by carryonmywaywardcaptain (MoC!Dean)

💦Fiend by fatecantstopme (Demon!Dean)

💦Sexy F*cking Nerd by whimsyfinny

💦Please, don't...Daddy by c1eepypas1a (Dark!Dean)

💗Welcome Home by deanstead (Dad!Dean)

💗💔 Not a Lot Just Forever by take-it-on-the-run (Dad!Dean)

💦P*ssyDrunk!Dean drabble by bunpuppe

💦Sweet Affairs by mxilkyways

💦If I Catch You by thirdsaltyhunter (Ghostface!Dean)

💦Caught in the Act drabble by figthoughts

💦 Playing with Fate by wayward-dreamer (Demon!Dean)

💗Too Many Beds by mind-empty-just-fictional-people

💔Empty Eyes by glorystark

💗 Under Control by kaleldobrev (MoC!Dean)

SAM WINCHESTER

💦Size Difference Sam Winchester {SFW & NSFW} by sammyslovergirl

💦I'm Better by nikkisheep (Soulless!Sam)

💦P*ssyDrunk!Sam drabble by samsno1

💦₊˚⊹♡ mean by ohsc

💦 Hair Pulling by ryrywrites

💦Go Easy by negans-lucille-tblr (Dom!Sam)

💦 Pollen by nuemanfilms (Dom!Sam)

💦I Got You by sammyluvr (Dom!Sam)

💦Worship You by sammyluvr (Priest!Sam)

💦 Body Worship drabble by rubyvhs

💦 Plaything by sleepyangelkami (Dom!Sam)

💦 Break by nuemanfilms (SoftDom!Sam)

CASTIEL

💦 Obedience at its Finest by bunnysbrainrot (Casifer)

💦Takeout Tuesday by gilverrwrites (Human!Castiel)

💦Your Whore by kdfrqqg (Dom!Castiel)

💦Sin, Virtue, and Vice by the-writer-ofthe-fandoms

💦Dream a Little Dream of Me by everything-is-by-design

💦Imagine: Castiel’s serious-minded idea of post-sex pillow talk by webcricket

💦Imagine: Castiel really really likes your inspired idea of compromise when it comes to solving a long standing bone of contention persisting in your otherwise copacetic coupledom by webcricket

💦 Last Night on Earth by hollybell51

💦Experience by gallavichsreddie1128

💦Don't Bet On It by hollybell51 (Virgin!Castiel)

💦Sweet Angel by beanthesprout (Sub!Castiel)

💦 Blessing by gabriels-blade (Soft Dom!Castiel)

THE BOYS

💦 Wet Dreams (SPN pref!)🩷 by via-l0ve

💦Private. (SPN Pref!) ❤️ by via-l0ve

💦💗.⋆｡When They Realised That They Loved You｡⋆. by hannibals-favourite-meal

💦Unholy Night 1 | Unholy Night 2 | Unholy Night 3 by holylulusworld (Dean/Sam/Castiel)

💦Hellnight by holylulusworld (Demon!Dean, Casifer, Soulless!Sam, Demon!John)

💦Teach Me by jessybarnes (Dean, Castiel)

💦Finally Giving In by grilledcheeseandtomato (Dean, Sam)

💦Guessing Game by bunnysbrainrot (Dean, Sam)

💦Why Not Two by nuemanfilms (Dean, Sam)

💦Sharing Father and Son by naughtyneganjdm (John, Dean)

💦Birthday Pie by negans-lucille-tblr (Dean, Sam)

#dean winchester #sam winchester #castiel #dean x reader #sam x reader #castiel x reader #supernatural #spn #fanfic #smut #fluff #angst

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justafairytailofinnocence · 7 months ago

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Jareth x dreamy reader🔮✨️🌌

How he would react if he was fascinated by you.🔮🌌🌠✨️

Part 1.

Part 2 here

A/n: hello dearies, this was my first attempt at doing a fan favourite childhood movie. ❤️✨️ I plan on writing a fanfic, but please let me know if you'd like a part two for the venetian masquerade scene. I'll admit I might rusty with his character because I haven't seen the movie in a while 😅.

Labyrinth requests: open

You were always a dreamer, daydreaming imaginative worlds beyond anyone's understanding, creating creatures in your mind that appealles to the eccentric.

No one really understands you, not deep down. On the outside, you may speak with politeness, telling others of your little endeavours of fantasy yet twas not in their interest nor care.

You never really fit in with the world around you, dreaming as others spoke in the usual topics of gossip, romance, sport, debates, and social societies of the world.

When working, you would dream of yourself in a flowing white garb dancing around in a fae forest pretending to be a different creature.

One night, you watched a film you believed to be rather fun and eccentric, not thinking much of it.

You recalled your mother was fond of the film, as you remembered. You had watched it once before as a child, then as a teenager.

However, as the day went on. as you worked. driving. Sleeping. Your daydreams soon turned to seeing yourself within that world, and not only that—

In the day dreams, you envision—not purposefully—you were often interacting with one of the characters within the film, the goblin king.

Though this phenomenon wasn't unusual as this happened when you were but a teenager. It was quite crazy to think that if you told anyone, they wouldn't believe you. Most saw it as only a movie, others saw it as their fantasy.

You didn't think much of it at first. Though, it was always in your mind, in your dreams despite never researching about the film.

One day, out of the blue, just as you were about to head to bed. You were wandering to the kitchen to turn off the lights. When you saw a book on the counter, out of curiosity you examined it. As to how it got there was a mystery.

Examining it, it hit you with the realisation the title was the same as the movie you had watched. How was this possible? I don't remember having owned any book like this?

Reading it plagued your curiosity. Did I—no—I don't recall buying this—how on earth? Did I—

Your questions were soon put to rest upon seeing the outside light flicker on. It had motion sensors, so whatever moved would activate it. That's odd? Perhaps it was just a cat roaming outside. They often do trespass to hunt for whatever else may be out there.

You placed the book back down onto the countertop. Taking a peek outside the window, seeing if anything was outside. What the hell? Is that a barn owl. Here. On the fence.

In hindsight, you were rather in awe than suspicious. You loved animals, and barn owls were quite rare. Once, as a child, you recalled a similar experience of a barn owl perched on the roof. It was rather extraordinary.

The owl seemed unaffected by your presence as it tilted its head, observing you—curiously.

You didn't want to disturb it. So you thought of taking photos to show your parents whom were out of town for the weekend. Grabbing your phone, you attempted to take pictures when suddenly—it was gone.

Baffled, you opened the door to your backyard, looking around the area. Nothing.

You didn't think too much of it, yet you were slightly disappointed. It was a rare sight to see something extraordinary in the moonlight.

Looking down at the book—and thinking of the movies plot. You wanted to test the theory of these coincidences. Scoffing to yourself, you jokingly said the words "ok, then, coincidence or not—".

You dramatically turn, acting like a character in a stage play. "Goblin king, goblin king, heed me, take my life away from here."

Within whispers and echoes—nothing. Nothing happened.

"Did she say it? Did she say it!".

"No, shut up!."

"Those weren't the words!".

"All she has to say is 'I wish my life away from here' it's not that hard to say."

"Shhhh, she's speaking again".

You picked up the book, reading the words from the beginning. Testing it once more. You thought of all the moments of conversing to many, not making any sense of your imagination. Trying to fit in within the world, and yet, they never understood you, despite being kind.

With genuine emotion, you say plainly, "I wish my life away from here."

Suddenly, with a turn of events, a gust of wind passed through the trees, and it wasn't gentle, but rather heavy. Turning, you didn't think a storm was possible.

Though it was put to rest when the door to the backyard swung open with brute force from the blustery winds, as glitter rained from in from the winds.

The owl that had perched against the fence had flown inside the home. Transforming into a man. You couldn't believe your eyes. You were too flabbergasted to speak.

"My, my, not even a second later, and you've already spent a wish on something so foolish—I'll be honest y/n, I was expecting a rather more exciting display from you." He was rather peculiar. His attire was not of modern fashion. Donning a white blouse with grey leggings with black boots. What caught you off guard was his outward apperance.

"That's because I thought it was fictional." You muttered.

"Fictional, you say? Hm~ Well, I'm afraid not, for I'm as real as you." He cocked a smile with a rather British sly tone.

"No, I'm dreaming, this isn't real—" you muttered, stopping. "This is a dream, you're not real, I'm simply in bed dreaming right now."

He found it funny. He was taking pleasure in your flummoxed reaction. Despite how wished to deny it true, he was real—and he was here to fulfill your wish.

"Y/n, do pay attention, I've heeded your wish, and I am here to grant it." Suddenly, within the grasp of his hand, a crystal clear ball fluently appeared. He started turning it, spinning it. Displaying tricks that seemed impossible for any human to do.

"Not all young girls get this privilege. What I'm offering you is far more than what anyone can simply have." Within the crystal ball, a vision began to play. A dream. One that happened during one of your day dreams. "I can take you there, you know, all you have to do is ask."

"Dreams can be made." You said simply. "There was merely a misunderstanding."

"And yet your dreams can be granted. Look at what I'm offering you y/n, a life far more than your own, a place where you're understood, a land in which none can harm you. A world completely of your own." He spoke as if he knew you completely, as if he'd been observing you each day, watching your dreams.

"I—I couldn't, what of my family, my friends, my loved ones." You say in a soft whisper.

"What of them—the deed is done y/n, and I'm afraid there's not much you can do now." He whimsicaly spoke with a cunning tone.

"There must be—surely—if there's a way to counter any deal, curse, or legend. Then, there must be a way for a wish."

"Hm, quite the insightful young thing, aren't you. Very well, I shall give you a chance to take back your wish if—you complete my labyrinth."

"Labyrinth?" You questioned whether or not such a place exists. After all, it's not like you could simply teleport to where he was speaking of.

Suddenly, turning behind you, you were met with a great, vast plane and seeing a stoned architecture resembling a maze with a castle in the middle. "You have 18 hours to complete my labyrinth or."

"You shall be trapped here forever." With that, his voice disappeared within the wind. As you turned to ask "wait but, how do I—hm?, ok, guess I'm on my own."

With that you were on your way.

What you hadn't known was that he had watched you from the start. Taking fascination in only you when the rest were only but white noise.

He could've sworn he dreamt of you once or twice yet, to his astoundment, you were as real as the throne he sits on.

To you, you had no idea how excited you made him. He only wanted you as interested in him as he was in you.

Even if you couldn't recognise it, he wanted to trap you forever within a dream where he could finally have a companion that could understand him. Build worlds and new domains for his labyrinth. To finally have a queen/king/royal by his side to hold forever.

He wouldn't have approached if you were not of interest. Many have attempted to catch his interest and yet failed. After Sarah, no one could capture his care nor attention. He was left within a void. Until you came along.

For now, you were his dream, a wish he could grant, and he plans on keeping it.

#labyrinth x reader #labryrinth #labyrinth 1986 #the goblin king #jareth #jareth x reader #jareth fic #labyrinth headcanon #david bowie #the goblin king x reader

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catpeepeepoopoo · 10 months ago

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camp camp dreamers au my one and only au ❤️❤️❤️

tldr max can enter other peoples dreams and it just so happens he meets david when he starts entering his dreams involuntary�� much to max’s dismay they meet irl at camp a whole year later…

#camp camp #dadvid #cc david #cc max #camp camp fanart #cc dreamwalker au

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andrearose96 · 11 days ago

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vote grungy girl if you want soft edge with a twist 💀💖

distressed denim, oversized flannels, platform boots, scrunchies in messy buns…

if you want a haul that’s just the right amount of attitude, this is the one ⛓️💖

it’s giving pastel sunsets, a head full of dreams, and a look that’s both tough and tender ✨

soft lips, ripped tights, and outfits that feel like a day spent running through the rain 💋✨

vote grungy girl if you wanna see me strut through a haul like I’m both a dreamer and a fighter 💋💕✨

Vote ⬇️💀💋⛓️✨💅💞

#feminization captions #submisive sissy #sissifyme #cd sissy #barbie #cross dressing #sissy crossdresser #sissy ferminization #forced feminized #andrea rose #fag andrea #mommy andrea

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amxrany · 11 months ago

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!! CHAPTER 7 / DIASOMNIA ARC SPOILERS !!

First dream we land is Epel's dream, let's get going:

So the gang land in a street in NRC where the Great Seven are located. Idia assists the group through his tablet and everything seems to be normal, but they still don't know whose dream this is.

Until we see this

(They really made the memes a reality in the worst way possible (affectionate). i love and hate twst for this lmao)

Let's just say, the entire group is absolutely traumatized. Like legit Grim said Buff Epel is taller than Jack 😭. Even Sebek was scared when he called for him. Then Grim asked Epel if he was supposed to be shorter, but Epel doesn't remember much. All that he knows was that when he came to NRC, he was already taller than most of the students.

Sebek also remembers that Epel is shorter than Lilia, in which Epel remembers that he admired how he play an active role together with Malleus even though he's a short king. Then, he remembers Lilia's advice "Mage strength isn't related to their size".

Grim's trying to make Epel remember everything from the events of Book 6, where he was the first one to save him. Grim thought that Epel was cool at that time.

That's when Epel learns the truth, that accepting himself for his strengths and role as the poison apple is what made him stronger. This causes Epel to wake up, but because of that fakes of Rook and Vil proceed to try and stop them. But before they fight, the gang has to do their magical girl transformation (I keep giggling at this)

Epel manages to trap the fakes with "Sleep Kiss". Once they were done, Epel tells the gang that they showed his uncool side. But Silver disagrees, saying that only people who are strog-willed can fight the darkness. Gotta mention that Epel is also horrified of his buff version. Sebek says that he thought Epel was feeble, but he could fight; and he managed to develop his unique magic. Epel said that success rate was around 70-80% but he managed to do it, and Sebek got a bit jealous. Of course, Silver teased Sebek not to lose and Sebek doesn't need to be told twice about that.

So we get an update of the plan from Idia, where he said that involves creating fake NPCs to fool Malleus into thinking that dreamer is still there but in reality they have already escaped. So, Idia sends out invitations to anyone who could possible be "awake"

In the end, Epel tags a long with us as we go to another dream...

Ok finished Epel's dream today, I'll be doing Rook's dream and Vil's dream tomorrow since it's already late in the evening as I'm writing this so yeah have fun guys ❤️❤️❤️

Previous: Part 1 Next: Rook's Dream

#rany talks about twst #twisted wonderland #twst #twst jp #twst spoilers #diasomnia #twst silver #sebek zigvolt #idia shroud #ortho shroud #epel felmier

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wisemins · 1 year ago

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I WASN'T ABLE TO GET A PHOTO OF HIM DUE TO HIM BEING BUSY, BUT THERE WAS A GUY DRESSED UP AS WILLY WONKA AT MY LOCAL CON TODAY. HE LOOKED A BIT LIKE GENE WILDER BUT WAS DRESSED AS THE TIMOTHÉE CHALAMET WONKA. I INSTANTLY THOUGHT OF YOU AND WAS SO GIDDY SEEING HIM.

I'M SOOOOO HONORED OMGGGG JEBFJDJF THAT SOUNDS SO COOL!!! THE IDEA OF SEEING GENE IN CHALAMET WONKAS FIT MAKES MY HEART SO HAPPYYY ❤️❤️❤️ I'M SO GIDDY THAT YOU THOUGHT OF ME 💕💕💕 I APPRECIATE YOUU!!

#starshine rambles #starshine asks #❤️: He's the one good thing #❤️: A dreamer of dreams

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shiyorin · 10 months ago

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Hope I’m not late! Could be any primarch/space marine either before or after corruption.May I ask about the raping of some serf that had fallen asleep near the chambers? And due to loneliness and being fucking pent up they grope her and after some quite while suddenly are balls deep, with her still asleep. Cut to the a year later, ship’s full of rumours. Well, serfs giving birth isn’t exatcly something weird. The child just becomes like their mother later on...but this child is just weird and growing abnormaly. The fate of them both is also yours to decide...to be either unrealistic taking the serf in due to regretable night or more plausable execution of a newborn due to them being a mutant❤️

#Why did I choose TS? I don't know, random.org said so.

#Unnamed Thousand Sons x F!Reader

#Rape, noncon, NSFW, somnophilia, there is a description of pregnancy,...

#I'm bad with summary so I won't do anything with it.

You won't wake up soon.

The sorcerer stares down at your sleeping form. His mind trick has you trapped in a deep slumber, completely at his mercy.

He's not sure why he did it, casting that subtle hypnosis when he spotted you drifting off alone in this dusty hab-room. Maybe it was the warp's dark desires, twisting his thoughts to sinister temptation. Or maybe it was just the primal, feral urges every Astartes struggles to contain.

All he knows is seeing your exhausted body sprawled out there, so soft and vulnerable, awakened something... wrong inside him. Something that made his double-hearts feel way too confining.

This was wrong. Profane, even. You were just a lowly serf, an insignificant mortal whose only purpose was servitude. But those thoughts couldn't stop the Astartes from reaching out with his gauntlets and roughly gathering you into his embrace.

He wraps his huge arms around you, pulling you into his embrace effortlessly. Your body feels so tiny and delicate compared to his towering transhuman bulk. Just a fragile little mortal sack of flesh and bone, a helpless mortal compared to his might.

You were so light, so fragile in his arms. Your head lolled back, mouth parting slightly as you remained trapped in that unnatural slumber. He nuzzled his face against the warm, soft skin of your throat and inhaled deeply. Your warmth and sweet scent quickly enflames his senses with fresh desire.

Holding you tightly against his huge chest, he slowly ran his tongue along the delicate seam of your lips. No resistance, not even a flutter of awakening as your breath was stolen away. He tasted you greedily, feeling your chest rise and fall with panicked panting, but you didn't wake. How deliciously helpless you were in this state...

His massive hands slide down to squeeze and palm your tender, yielding curves as he grinds his hips against you forcefully.

"Such a little mortal" he growls in a deep tone. He could crush you without even trying... but why he should do that?

As the sorcerer pulls your limp, sleeping form against the throbbing heat of his crotch. He basks in the psionic feedback of your peacefully dreaming mind, aroused by its blissful innocence even as he feeds his corrupting taint into your subconscious.

His long tongue slithers out of his fanged maw, coiling between your parted lips to plunder the sweet recesses of your mouth. Deeper and deeper it plunges as he steals your breath away. What little air remains gets crushed from your lungs as he smashes his body against yours in an embrace.

But despite all of that, the mind-trick holds your consciousness fast. You remain completely unaware, slumbering on as a helpless dreamer in this waking nightmare.

"Exquisite..." The sorcerer's graveled whispers drip with heady arousal as he drags his rough calloused palms over every inch of your exposed skin.

With one overpowered tug, he rips away the flimsy rags covering your body. Now you lay nude and exposed, your most intimate places to his gaze. He feasts upon the glorious, forbidden vista with eyes wide and shimmering with unholy ecstasy.

You're perfect. Every sumptuous curve and swell crafted with such artful elegance. Those ripe breasts, those sculpted feminine ridges and valleys, all brought into sharp relief by the Astartes' deeply lurid perception.

He trails his rough, calloused finger-pads over each exquisite inch of your prone flesh, drunk on the maddening sensory feedback. The texture, the warmth, the softness… like spun silk and liquid fire all at once.

His fanged maw gapes open in a silent moan as his grip grows more forceful and possessive. You remain dead to the world, locked away in his psychic trance.

A burning ache blossomed in his loins as he imagined all the things he could do. He could take his cock out and rut against your limp body right here, smearing your pretty face and tattered robes with ropy strands of hot semen. He could spread your thighs and shove himself into your vulnerable, unmapped entrance while you slept on, blissfully unaware.

The thought made him shudder with blasphemous, warp-spawned ecstasy. He could defile you completely, utterly take possession of your mortal body for his own cravings. And you wouldn't remember a thing when the spell was lifted. Unless... he wanted you to.

Spurred on by this lack of resistance, the sorcerer's remaining inhibitions start to crumble like papyrus in a bonfire. His hands grow ever bolder and more rapacious, groping and mauling with shameless entitlement now. He sneers with sadistic glee as pale blue-purple bruises begin blossoming across your skin under his crushing grip.

You shift in his crushing grip, legs parting unconsciously as the psyker starts grinding his growing erection against your hips.

Your limp head lolls bonelessly, eyes closed and mouth slightly parted in a way that makes his cock throb. Groaning, he pulls your face against the sweaty cables of his neck and just breathes you in. Hands roaming, groping at the soft flesh of your rear and inner thighs. He hooks his fingers into the waistline of your skirt and briefs, tugging them down with a single, impatient yank.

Feverishly, he undoes his undercarriage, letting his huge, throbbing erection spring free in all its purplish, vein-laced glory. He groaned as his calloused palm wrapped around the swollen shaft, working the sensitive tip in slow, teasing strokes. Ropes of clear pre-seed immediately wept from his slit, painting your bare thigh in sticky trails. You didn't even flinch, totally enslaved in your sleep.

The psyker aimed his bloated cockhead at your exposed slit. He roughly shoving two fingers into your silken depths. You were drenched but still incredibly tight, an irresistible combination that made his cock jump needily.

With a feral grunt, he lined up the broad tip of his manhood and started pushing forward. Inch by deliciously snug inch, you were forced to accommodate his girth. Your body stretched around the invading member, your petals straining wide yet somehow accepting every last vein-ridged inch within.

The sorcerer gasped as your molten sheath swallowed him to the hilt.... you're so wet, so tight. He'd never experienced anything like the heavenly friction clenching down on his cock.

Unable to restrain himself a second longer, he pulled back until just his flared tip remained, then slammed home again. And again. His massive hips quickly worked up to a merciless piston, tramming his full length inside you over and over with a force.

All you could do was weakly squirm and whimper, mouth gaping in a silent scream as your womb was ruthlessly battered. But in your mind, you were drifting through shifting dreamscapes completely unaware of the blessed rapture rocking your mortal body.

So small, so damnably fragile... But taking every vein-slathered inch of a psyker's cock like it was nothing. He moaning, slamming you with each powerful thrust. His hands burned blistered prints into your delicate skin from how tightly he gripped your thighs.

The pistoning echoed loudly in the vaulted chamber. The sorcerer's amplified endurance and stamina meant he could have taken you for hours on end before feeling the need to peak. But the sleek, molten friction on his cock and the view of your helpless body quickly proved too much.

His growling breaths grew more labored as he chased his climax. His balls drew up tight, swollen with a massive backup of pent-up seed just waiting for release.

With a few more strokes, the psyker growl as he reached his limit. His jaw strained wide open in blissful torment as his cock spasmed violently, erupting thick ropes of burning issue straight into your waiting womb.

He hilted balls deep, trapped there in ecstasy as his cock throbbed and pulsed, absolutely flooding your depths with endless waves. It pumped into you in such massive quantities that his seed had nowhere to go, squirting back around his buried shaft in a hot, sticky rush.

The torrent of seed utterly stuffed your belly, rounding it into an obscene bulge until excess streamed down your thighs in ropy trails. He groaned gutturally, never having unleashed such a ferocious explosion of relief before.

Eventually, the last few weak spurts oozed from his tip. But still he didn't withdraw, hips remaining flush so his cock could marinate in that sloppy mess of frothing nectar and cream. He cradled you close, uncaring for the sticky mess as you laid bonelessly against his.

Your bruised, cum-stuffed body draped so perfectly over his own. Your soft, shallow breaths tickling his cheek as he nuzzled into the crook of your throat. He nipped at the sweat-pearled flesh there affectionately, fangs grazing without breaking skin as his hands roamed over your pleasantly rounded curves in reverent strokes.

What was this emotion settling over him? It wasn't lust or hunger driving him to use you l anymore. Those intense urges had been scratched, at least for the time being. No, this felt... more?

Like he wanted to do more for you. He wanted to protect you, care for you in a deeper sense. Keep you close by his side. He wanted you to feel comfort and pleasure, not just to provide your own.

Is this what being a "lover" felt like? Of course, he knew the definition of "lover" by heart. But....

Some profound emotional bond he may have sacrificed the ability to feel when he gave himself wholly to his new life. But looking at your marked, debased body somehow made him almost... wistful. As if he once knew something warm and beautiful that had been shorn away, leaving only this raw desire behind.

Maybe if it was him in the past, he could understand. He could not recall that ghost of his former self, no matter how his battered soul scraped those old wounds... but the longing remained all the same.

With a shuddery sigh, the psyker merely pulled you tighter against his. His corrupted flesh could no longer feel such superficial things like warmth or softness, yet he still clung to you with desperate fierceness. He would sate his lusts over and over again on your lush form until the next battle urged his abilities forth once more.

And until then... just maybe he could pretend, for a few fleeting moments at least, you were something more than that. Maybe you are his 'lover'

Just wait until you wake up…

****

The halls of the Immaterium were a formless void of madness and eternity. A place outside the constraints of linear time where even the most stalwart minds could be swallowed whole by the hellish tides of Chaos.

How long had he been adrift within that nightmarish un-reality? He'd lost all sense of self, allowing his immortal essence to fray and fragment amidst frenzies of eldritch horrors. Just another hollowed husk withering amongst the psychic howls echoing from distant, unknown dimensions.

Until... he felt it. A familiar spark amidst the madness, drawing his frenzied consciousness like a beacon in the abyssal murk.

A soul - small, achingly mortal, yet blazing with the warm light of life he'd all but forgotten existed beyond the immortal pollution of the Immaterium. He instinctively anchored himself there, clawing his way back into the corporeal plane to coalesce around that guttering ember of temporal existence.

Reality bled back into shrieking focus all at once. The sorcerer gasped, feeling the first touch of atmosphere scorching his lungs after an endless sojourn breathing naught but howling insanity. His eyes snapped open, revealing a blasted cityscape that stank of death and plasmic fire.

Wails of anguish echoed all around him as refugees fled the ruins in panicked droves. Overhead, the roar of engines and explosions painted the smog-choked skyline in crimson and gold. He stood in the middle of a ruined crossroads, his armor thrumming with barely-leashed arcane might.

And there... huddled in the bombed-out remains of what may have been a domicile, he saw you. His anchor, his tether to sanity in this mortal realm. Clutching a tiny, frail thing to your breast and shaking with terror that etched lines of exhaustion into your face.

A child. Your child, he realized through the haze of recognition clouding his enhanced mind. So young, its life newly-kindled... but somehow already stamped with his brand. Intrinsically linked to his.

He remember it...

He came back for you.

He extended one taloned gauntlet, feeling ethereal tendrils of energy reaching out to the two terrified souls before him...

#shiyorin's answer #shiyorin's writer #wh40crack #warhammer 40k x reader #space marine x reader #Nsfw.

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zipyolip · 1 month ago

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Raw and Unfiltered: My Personal Experience as a Reality Shifter Along with My Experience with Manifestation

I said this in the comments and I'll say it again here: I broke this up into shorter posts to make it easier to digest, but check my page and let me know if you prefer the longer ones—I'm more focused on what helps you understand and relate best.

────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────

I literally don’t have any other “method” except for LOA.

(Remember, you can shift using anything as long as you have faith and believe it'll work.)

────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────

Here’s my interpretation of the Law of Assumption and how I’ve been using it:

Step 1: Have a thought (hey, you have those passively and naturally).

Step 2: Pick and keep and loop only the thoughts you like.

I like to make things easy, effortless, and natural. Basically, just staying in the “Yay ❤️” mindset because it’s none of my damn business how this shit works—I’m only interested in results.

Personally, I love this image because I'm just saying an affirmation and then moving on with my day. If you believe in God, imagine that the grey text is God telling you, "Don't worry about it. I've got it all handled. All you needed was to tell me what you wanted."

────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────

Reality is Maluable

Reality is just as malleable as a dream. There’s literally nothing stopping you from flying or doing anything you want once you realize your power in this reality too.

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Lucid Dreaming vs. Reality Shifting

My entire life, I’ve been the kind of person who has incredibly vivid dreams. I’m talking about 7 dreams in a single night, or entire lifetimes within those 8 hours. As a child, I struggled with sleep paralysis and had terrifying nightmares. I wanted to free myself from being haunted, even in my sleep. (I was also terrified of the dark—like, yeah, there’s someone in that closet. I swear I’m not hallucinating, Mom!)

Before I even hit my teenage years, I decided to master lucid dreaming.

If you know about lucid dreaming, you’re probably familiar with the advice given to beginners: things like reality checks, such as trying to poke your finger through your hand or counting your fingers. Often, when you try to do this in a dream, your finger will pass right through your hand, or you’ll notice an inaccurate number of fingers. That’s the moment when you realize, “Oh! I’m in a dream!”

Shifting works similarly when it comes to those reminders.

Here’s why:

There are so many stories of people shifting by accident. Shifting is that easy—just like dreaming—that someone could literally transport their consciousness to another reality by accident. Sounds bizarre, right?

Let’s say you’ve been imagining your desired reality 24/7. You know it like the back of your hand—or better yet, let’s say you know just one person in that reality.

For this example, let’s say we’re shifting into the Naruto universe. (You know Naruto, right?)

Imagine waking up and suddenly seeing Naruto’s yellow-haired ass in your face (and you’ve been planning to shift into the Naruto world).

You’d be like, “Oh shit, I shifted.”

That’s literally the same thing as watching your finger go through your hand and thinking, “Oh shit, I’m dreaming.”

For the experienced lucid dreamers out there, you know that surge of power when you first realize you’re dreaming. That’s the moment when you realize you can literally do anything—like, just start flying out of nowhere because you wanted to. A personal favorite of mine.

────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────

Honestly, You Can Shift Even Without Thoughts

Honestly, you can shift even without thoughts. Just the intention—focusing and believing you will make it to your desired reality—will do the job. Your subconscious already knows what you’re trying to do. It's like when you go to sleep—you don’t have to chant "I'm sleeping, I'm sleeping" over and over. You just lay down, expecting to fall asleep, and your body does the rest.

────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────

My Life Before Reality Shifting and the Struggles I Faced

Like most of us, I found out about shifting in 2020 through TikTok. However, I didn’t know about the Law of Assumption at the time. So, most of my attempts back then were just that: attempts.

Though I didn’t struggle with the idea that it was real, I did have some bad habits of procrastinating and, as a young teenager, I didn’t have the same self-confidence in my ability to shift despite my faith in its existence.

I recall consuming so much info that I manifested experiencing symptoms. That ended up tripping me way the fuck out... not only that, but I was exerting way too much effort in attempts to change my 3D instead of just changing my mind and focusing on the 4D.

At some point, I had genuinely become scared of the idea of shifting. It was like I know I can do it, but should I? What will happen to me?

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Anti-Shifters... Let's Talk About It

Honestly, I’m almost at a loss for words because the concept of the multiverse has been around for millennia.

I mean, seriously, it’s in every media type and the CIA confirmed it.

If you're worried about other people's opinions, remember that some people think the Earth is flat, and the majority of America elected Trump as their president. The masses can be wrong.

Forget the haters. Remember this is YOUR reality! You dictate whether they have a say or not. You are me and I am you, I’m showing up in your reality exactly how you expect me to. You are the one who gives power to others. The best way to explain is this: others are NPCs (in the most respectful way possible) and you've already programmed their dialogue just by assuming how they'll act.

At the end of the day, you’re Judge, Jury, and the Executioner.

In my opinion, for someone to not even “entertain” shifting, not even as a concept, is a testament to their lack of intelligence and narrow-mindedness. This reality hasn’t even been past the fucking Milky Way. Where did y'all get the audacity to think that you know everything about everything? That’s like a 3-year-old trying to teach a Ph.D. student about their own subject. Where did you even get the audacity?

How would you know if shifting is real or not real if you just found out about it? To invalidate so many people's experiences, research, just because it's beyond your feeble mind to understand? Oh brother...

Half of those people don’t even wash their ass and feet in the shower. Be serious. They’re jokes, and they should be treated as such.

To the Anti Shifters: STOP ACTING LIKE YOU KNOW EVERYTHING WHEN YOU DON’T! I would genuinely bet money that you think the Earth is flat too ☠️

────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────

Final Thoughts

Be comfortable knowing that you don’t know a damn thing. Let go of your obsession with external validation!

You are the only validation you will ever need.

All of this is just to say: Humans don't know jack shit about jack shit.

😭😭😭I don’t wanna “we live in a floating rock” this, but seriously, humans are animals and the only mammal on this Earth that primarily walks on two legs. You eat every other living thing on this planet, and by all means, you’re an abnormality that should not exist. And yet, you defy the laws of nature constantly and consistently. Honestly, a feat!

Give yourself a big round of applause because you’re already done with the hardest part of your soul's journey.

The only thing you’ve ever needed to shift, was exist.

────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────

If anyone has any questions, feel free to just ask. I’m honestly doing this just for the love of the game. I haven’t attempted to document my journey before this, so this is a first for me.

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tj-dragonblade · 2 months ago

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[Fluffbruary Fic] Tradition

Fandom: The Sandman Pairing: Dreamling Rated: G Word Count: 2404 Tags: Fluffbruary, Fluffbruary 2025, pre-relationship, fluff, holidays, baking cookies

Notes: Originally, this was for Week 2 of @mr-sadman's SeasonalSadman2024 event, using the prompt Traditions. But it didn't want to flow for seasonal timeliness so I put it aside and slated it for the end of Fluffbruary instead. And it turns out, all it needed was a rest and some breathing room. Inspiration came from both @chaosheadspace and @carnelianmeluha 's creator threads on the server, so I will dedicate this to both of you ❤️ Even if it's February now.

Summary: Dream shares his time and Hob shares his stories, and together they are maybe sharing something else.

On AO3

"Dream! You're just in time!"

Dream hesitates, abruptly concerned that he had forgotten an appointment and somehow managed to keep it serendipitously—but no. He is very certain that he was not expected here today.

'Here', as it turns out, is Hob's kitchen, where the watery winter daylight streams through the window over the sink and Hob is wrestling a large mound of dough into an enormous mixing bowl. There is another mound set by on the worktop; Hob's sleeves are rolled up in a very fetching manner, his hair is mostly contained in a small knot on the back of his head, and he's wearing an apron that proclaims him World's Okayest Baker in garish pink letters. There are smears of the rich brownish dough all over it, matching smears on Hob's arms and hands, and the room is fragrant with spices—cardamom, cinnamon, nutmeg, ginger.

Dream cocks his head the slightest bit. "In time for what?" It is easy enough to intuit; the kitchen is replete with wisps of daydreams that whisper the answer, but 'making biscuits' is merely the title of the story, not the full depth of it which Dream would hear in Hob's own words.

"Making biscuits!" Hob smiles broadly at him, warm and full of life. "School has a tradition, faculty bakes treats for the students before term lets out for Christmas. Some folks buy in from the fancy bakeries 'cause they don't know their way around the kitchen, but me I like to do it from scratch." He sets aside the bowl. "And I like to make extra. Student body's small enough, we're not some big university, but I like doing my part to make sure there's enough to go round."

"Indeed." Dream's coat and boots disappear to their places by Hob's front door as he adjusts his manifestation to better suit the shape of the afternoon before him.

"Sooo, I was doing my baking today—and I'd love to have your help, if you're here for a visit and don't mind something so menial."

"It is no such thing, Hob Gadling." Dream offers a tiny smile. "I would be honored to assist the 'world's okayest baker' with a task so important."

Hob glances down at his well-used apron and laughs. "Ah, yes. The apron lies, I'll have you know—I am nothing short of a fantastic baker after all these years. It was a gift from Jaime, a joke." He shakes his head fondly, the barest hint of melancholy crinkling the corners of his eyes.

Dream is certain he could follow the thread of the name and its connection to Hob to the Dreaming, bring full awareness of this dreamer to the fore, but again—there is comfort and camaraderie in hearing the stories of Hob's life as Hob would tell them, directly. So he chooses instead to offer question.

"A former lover?" He is reasonably certain he would know if Hob were currently involved with anyone.

"Yeah." Hob's expression has gone nostalgic. "Dated a couple years, lived together awhile; ended it about five months before you came back. Jaime had a once-in-a-lifetime job opportunity, moved to Toronto. And, well, I wasn't leaving London, was I? Not when I was still waiting for you." He smiles, and it is tinged with…not sadness, precisely, but something that is soft and wistful and commiserative.

The heart that Dream has approximated thumps heavily in his breast. "My absence cost you this relationship—"

"No, no no, now, none of that," Hob interrupts, speaking over his shoulder as he turns to wash his hands. "It was lovely while it lasted but we both knew how it would end, sooner or later. Jaime was meant for grander things than me, and, well. All my relationships have to end one way or another, don't they." He turns off the tap and dries his hands, flashes Dream a brilliant grin and a quick wink. "'Cept ours, of course. Can always count on seeing you again, my friend."

"Of course," Dream echoes, inordinately warmed by how easily Hob centers Dream in his life, welcomes him. Broadly, as he has just spoken, yes; Dream is assured that Hob's delight in his company is genuine. But also, specifically, how easily he makes room for Dream in whatever he is doing when Dream visits without notice. He has demonstrated time and again that Dream's presence is appreciated, and no burden; that Dream is important enough that Hob will shape his plans around Dream as needed, will include him at a moment's notice.

It is. Gratifying, to receive such regard, from one who is neither his subject nor seeking to curry favor.

Dream is never quite certain what to do with it.

"But anyway!" Hob opens a drawer and rifles through it briefly, withdrawing a rolling pin and setting it aside. "These Christmas biscuits have been a tradition of mine even before Jaime, and I'm glad the school gives me an excuse to keep it going. I'm making the lemon rosemary lavender ones that you like next—they're very popular every year—and chocolate candy cane if I have the time after that. But first! Gingerbread." He turns to the fragrant mahogany dough on his worktop and begins pushing and kneading at it, working it into a somewhat flatter shape.

"I always make two batches," he says, as he moves to apply the rolling pin to the reworked dough. "One for stars and rounds, one for proper gingerbread men. Once I get this rolled out, d'you want to start with the cutters?" He nods toward a small assembly of metal and plastic shapes at the other end of the bench.

"Of course." Dream is pleased to take part in this creative process, in whatever way Hob can find use for him.

"Great, then I can start working the other batch on the table while you do." He's rolling vigorously, a steady rhythm molding the dough to his wishes, bared forearms flexing in a way that Dream finds somehow difficult to look away from.

"Is this a recipe of your own devising?" Dream is eager, he finds, to hear more of this story of Hob's traditions.

"Oh no, no, this is Oma Franziska's gingerbread recipe." Hob has that fondly-nostalgic look again. "She insisted we call her that, me and Jim. She'd lost contact with her own grandkids when she left Germany, you see, and she sort of adopted us when we moved in next to her. She knew Jim's truth, too, and it was nice to have a neighbor who he could be himself with."

Hob has told Dream of Jim previously. Jim, who had been Hob's wife Peg to the rest of the world but Hob's husband in safe company; Jim, who had loved the sea, who sang bawdy pub songs with the loveliest voice, who left Hob with many fond memories and stories to carry with him as he continued living.

"She looked after us both, in a fashion. Knew her way around the kitchen blindfolded and backwards—I'm very sure food was her love language. Always made sure the neighbors were fed if they needed and was just—she was really something, y'know? I'm glad I got to know her." Hob gives the dough a final roll with a flourish. "Stayed put until she passed, even though I was kind of pushing it for that lifetime. I didn't want to leave her behind when she had so little time left, especially when she'd been there for me after losing Jim and all of that."

"Your kindness does you credit." Dream is warmed by the tale, by yet another glimpse of the man Hob had worked to become in the past century.

"Heh." Hob beams at him, and something low in Dream's stomach tightens marginally. "Anyway, Oma Franziska loved sharing recipes with us—sending her traditions forward, she called it—and I've kept 'em alive for her. This gingerbread is based on an older recipe, but she tinkered with it quite a lot and clearly she knew what she was about; these biscuits always get rave reviews." He turns, plucks two of the biscuit cutters from the jumble on the counter and presents them to Dream. "Here you go."

Dutifully, Dream accepts the cutters and moves to the rolled-out dough, the collective unconscious granting easy familiarity with a task he has never performed.

"Perfect," Hob declares, as Dream begins pressing the simple shapes neatly into the dough. "Let me get your tray prepped so you've got somewhere to set these little beauties as you go."

Something deep in Dream warms at the easy praise, pleased and content; he lets the feeling wash over him as he works, as Hob sets a lined baking tray in easy reach and begins rolling out the second batch over on the table, as Hob continues talking.

"I love this recipe," Hob says, and Dream can hear how he's smiling even though his back is turned. "They turn out just the right amount of soft with a lovely balance of flavors, and they're exactly sweet enough. Gotta start it early to give it plenty of time to 'ripen', for the lactic acid to do its thing, but it's very much worth it. This batch I started about a month ago so they'd be ready now. And the biscuits themselves will keep at least 'til February, assuming they last that long."

"You deem them worth the effort," Dream surmises, arranging the biscuits he has cut on the baking sheet.

"Mmyep, definitely. Especially when I'm making them to share with others."

Dream can still hear the way Hob is smiling, and it warms him. Hob has such care for the people in his life, for those he sheperds and those he works beside; Dream is grateful to witness it, to be included in that care, for the ready welcome he continues to find in Hob's company.

"The time taken is to their benefit," he offers, transferring more cut biscuits to their tray. "The dreams sown into the dough are rich, and deeply rooted. They have grown robust, being let to steep so long; your biscuits will be a masterpiece of comfort and flavor."

"There's. Dreams. My dreams? In the dough?" Hob sounds particulary flummoxed; Dream looks up to find him turned about, blinking dumbfounded at him, rolling pin held idle in one hand.

"Yes." Dream lays another gingerbread star on his tray. "Your intent, your joy in sharing, your delight in doing for others. Your wish to carry the memories of the recipe forward. They all shape your baking, enhance your end result."

"Heh. I had no idea." The tips of Hob's ears have reddened considerably and there is a trace of pink visible across his cheeks.

It becomes him.

Hob blinks, shakes his head, recovering his composure. "Bet all the dreams in the dough won't save them from burning, though." He grins.

"Most certainly not," Dream allows, smiling in turn. "We shall need to time them appropriately. I can assist, if you like."

Hob has turned back to finish his rolling, speaks over his shoulder. "How's that work, then? You'll listen to the dreams as they bake, and know when they're perfectly done based on vibes?"

"Perhaps, if you think it best." Dream can feel his smile growing. "I had thought I might simply watch the timer."

Hob has stopped and turned to stare at him again; Dream reaches to take the rolling pin and use it himself. He lets the smile on his face remain, lets it be known to Hob.

"You're making jokes now?" Hob grins widely, eyes crinkling with mirth, his tone one of wonder. "Red letter date! Best mark my calendar."

Dream, flush with pleasant warmth at the easy teasing, turns back to roll his scrap dough into a flat sheet, delighting in the little chuckle Hob gives as he begins stamping the simple stylized human shapes into his own sheet of dough.

The day passes pleasantly, gingerbread baking fragrantly while they move on to the next biscuit on Hob's planned list; Hob prepares the shortbread dough while Dream monitors time on the oven. It is very much a matter of 'vibes' that lets him pull each tray at exactly the right moment, transferring them to cooling racks, setting the pans aside to be prepared for their next batch. They roll out and cut the lavender lemon rosemary biscuits next, and since Dream is sharing the labor there is plenty of time to make the chocolate candy cane ones as well.

They clean up behind the baking and Hob prepares lunch while the biscuits are all cooling; once they have eaten, they move on to decorating. Dream is given the gingerbread and loses himself in the flow of creativity, piping swirls of colorful icing onto the stars and rounds, applying edible glitter and sugar pearls with a discerning eye while Hob smears chocolate icing and sprinkles crushed candy cane bits on the chocolate biscuits. Together they finish up with the gingerbread men, adding eyes and mouths and clothes in wide variety, each distinctly unique. Dream can feel as they work how Hob's daydreams float and shift around them, how intent has settled into the biscuits at every stage of the process, even here at the end.

He can taste it, as well, when he and Hob sample their work after finishing.

It is little wonder Hob's biscuits are popular at the school's annual function. They are, quite literally, made with love.

When he visits Hob again in February, he is presented with one of the gingerbread men they had made in December, carefully kept in an airtight container.

"Saved the last one for you." Hob winks, and Dream's stomach dips pleasantly.

The biscuit is indeed as good as it had been two months prior, ripe with the care baked into it, sweet and fragrant and satisfying on a level far beyond the physical. Dream nibbles, listens while Hob regales him with the story of the student love letter he'd accidentally intercepted on Valentine's day, basks in the comfortable warmth of Hob's voice and Hob's presence and Hob's home.

And somewhere, deep within the core of himself, he acknowledges the truth that he can taste in the biscuit, even now: that some of the care and the love that have gone into their creation, is very much specifically for him.

= Started: 12/12/24 Drafted: 2/23/25 Posted: 2/28/25

#Fluffbruary 2025 #TJs Fluffbruary #TJs Fics #Sandman #Dreamling

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