#Fandom dreams

[astramyr]

i had a dream where bill cipher had two secret siblings. they were also evil but they hated bill so they had some other plan to take over our dimension. they didn't really like each other tho, they only teamed up bc they had similar goals. they kinda looked like this (they were animated in this specific art style too)

[cevans-is-classic]

I wrote a poem about maladaptive daydreaming, which pretty much sums up my level of delusion

I dream of touching your hand Feeling your lips, Listening to your laugh. I dream of long nights, coffee mornings And movies at noon. I dream of the smell of you on my clothes To know your secrets Of your favorites And your dislikes I dream with my eyes wide open Begging to be normal To get over the dreams But they bring comfort Not much else will bring I dream of a life Where you know me And say my name With a whisper I dream of calling you Messages back and forth Wondering when I'll see you again I dream of you Far more than I should I dream one day you'll think of me And all my maladaptive daydreams.

[dream-diary-of-a-random-person]

What happens when you watch something before bed - 10/21/2024

I had a dream last night about the ending to the game "Mouthwashing."

In the dream, it showed what happened after the events of the game. There was some text that explained that Curly had been found by some rescue group that, despite running low on funds, was doing its best to home people in rough situations. It then fades in to Curly's perspective. He was waking up in a dimly lit room and there was some guy sitting next to the bed he was laying on. He talked to him about something, telling him they'd do his best for him before it cut to Curly being put in a different room. This one was covered in red carpeting material (had a minimal but fancy pattern to it) that only had a door and a TV inside. There were some sloped areas by the walls as well. Despite everything, he was somehow able to move around the room without much pain. Someone began to knock on the door.

The game then changed to one that took place in what seemed to be a high school. It was a side-scroller that seemed to follow a group of girls. One was getting bullied by another. After that the dream ended.

Notes: - I had been watching a VOD of someone playing Mouthwashing before I went to bed.

[ae-azile]

I had a dream with Chan in it, except he was a supervisor at the dorms in my current job and not in the universe of KinnPorsche. It was strange seeing him working with behavioral Deaf kids and using ASL and English over using Thai and English with mafia bodyguards. It was also strange that another supervisor apparently had a tendency to partner us up when I picked up dorm shifts and that Chan protected me from a teenager who had gotten extremely aggressive (SWOON 😂). But it suddenly made sense as to why I was picking up dorm shifts despite being a salary staff at the school and no longer making time and a half for those picked up shifts like I used to years ago when I was hourly.

I didn't particularly have a crush on Chan prior to this dream. I thought he was attractive and that was that. But I may have woken up with one.

Anyway, I should write a third chapter of my BigChan fic. Maybe it was a sign.

[greensapphic]

No one believes you buddy

[theespaceace]

“man, what a year” i say as its only been 12 days into january

[lilacxquartz]

love you, love you, love you;

mr. crawling x reader

plot: some things are best expressed without the need of words — themes: spooning/cuddling, smut, maybe yan vibes — w.c: 1.1k

a/n: my first homicipher related fic. i want to try one for mr. silvair & mr. gap next, bc they were also my favs. this game has been taking over my life so much lately. like it’s been in my dreams, haaah.

masterlist • ao3

Mr. Crawling was always loud when he was excited within your company; his laughter filled out the vast empty spaces that were otherwise unadorned with familiarity. Whatever you once sought from those winding corridors was ever-fleeting, temporary, leaving you stuck within the confines of his company.

Yet, when he felt what you could only interpret as affection—that’s when Mr. Crawling then became different—quiet, soothing, kind but also… curious.

And when you would usually sleep, he would stand watch, knelt over the floor as per his usual stance but sometimes crouched near you, sometimes leaning back against the wall with his legs pressed up against his chest. He would watch you as his life depended on it, unwavering in focus and with eerie intensity. He would watch as your chest rose and fell, leaning close on occasion to catch the sweep of your breath and sometimes, he would trace the pad of his milky fingertips in long, languid strokes against your face. Always so delicate, so tender, but for the most part, quiet and even shy.

Having once caught a glimpse of Mr. Gap in your blanket space, however, set something territorial off for Mr. Crawling and he was never able to recover from such an invasion. The very idea that someone else was able to infiltrate what he deemed to be your space—especially someone who he disapproved of—wasn’t something he could stand for. Especially with the sort of trickster Mr. Gap was, he couldn’t bear to see you get hurt. It would kill him on the inside (and on the outside, too).

So, just as you were getting into bed to rest up once more, he too, slipped in under the covers with you. At first, you were startled as usual, turning to face him with confusion evident in your eyes, murmuring out some words in a language that he still could not understand. He repeated something back, the meaning lost and indecipherable upon your ears, though soon surrendering to emphasis using gestures instead. A hug to bring you closer, a reassuring pat on your head and a small, longing kiss over your nose.

You listened to his words again, repeating over and over like a broken record.

Perhaps he meant no harm, after all.

You turned your back to him and settled into his chest, finding that he was surprisingly warm for what he was. His taller frame encased your body, wrapping his ashen arms around your waist—accidentally brushing the fabric that sat over your breast—nicking the cloth ever so slightly. Your breath hitched in surprise and as though in sheepish realisation, he withdrew right away, terrified that you were upset with him.

You drew out a long breath, reminding yourself again, that after everything that has happened thus far…

That, Mr. Crawling does not want to hurt you.

That Mr. Crawling has only ever helped you.

So perhaps, right now, Mr. Crawling only wanted to be closer to you.

You relaxed your breathing, settling into his comforting shadow once more and allowed for his presence to envelop you. He repeated the soothing motions of his grappling arm, although he held onto you softer that time. His hands explored your body with a delicate touch, as though afraid of breaking you—of upsetting you again—his motions growing confident the longer that you didn’t protest. It wasn’t long before he, otherwise not disturbed by your lacking, conscious awareness, decided to explore further with you. Mr. Crawling’s fingers didn’t ask for permission that time, creeping beneath the clinging fabric, feeling your skin against his palms, inviting a pleased, almost delighted smile to curl on his lips.

The silence remained unbroken as Mr. Crawling continued his explorative focus on you; the quickly-building evidence of his need growing harder the longer he pushed himself behind your body, the repeated touches arousing something warmer within him. To both his surprise as well as your own—you were not repulsed, allowing him to creep even lower, below the skirt of the dress and up, brushing his hand up to your exposed skin and, reading into it—you communicated your consent from the moment you parted your legs, allowing him to get even closer.

Confidence surged in Mr. Crawling as he pushed himself into your hilt, allowing his hardened length to slip inside. Betraying the stagnant silence, he shuddered out a ragged gasp before giving into his own rising need; grinding himself into your sopping sex with steadily increasing fervour. His fingers clamped around the curve of your hips as he held you in place, slamming every last inch of himself deep into your core.

Ever touch-starved yet wanting nothing more than to surrender to the sensation of you, Mr. Crawling continued to drive his cock into your needy cunt, soon wrapping his winding arms around your body and holding on tight. He bucked intensely as you soon succumbed to breathless whimpers, incoherently begging for his name. Equally desperate whines rolled off the slip of his tongue as he found his lips pressed into the crook of your neck, dampening your skin with sloppy wet kisses—as many as he could give.

It felt overwhelming for you in a way to be worshipped like this but you did your best to keep up with such intensity, especially as the warm, tingling pleasure built up inside of you, too. You held on just as tight as he did, your hand seeking out his own—fingers weaving into his bony digits—interlocking and squeezing tight the closer you got, your grip and otherwise clenching need tightening simultaneously. To feel him losing himself inside of you was dare you admit, addicting, feeling him completely fill and stretch you out leaving you almost dizzied from the impaling force.

Mr. Crawling, like you, soon surrendered to the rolling bliss from the flick of his hips, feeling a surging warmth mount and rise, encouraging him to lose himself to the searing heat of the moment and you. Encircling your body in a possessive hug, he suddenly began to mutter out a new word in a strained mantra, again and again.

Given how desperate he seemed to be, you understood the meaning as ‘close’, especially as his actions grew more strained and less controlled.

“Close, close, close,” he repeated.

It didn’t take his chased release to catch up as his hips grew to a stutter, rutting out one final pump before melting into you. Mr. Crawling cried into your neck, spilling out the entirety of his overflowing love, feeling the pent-up devotion trickle down your thighs—yet not letting you move away—still retaining his claim on you.

Instead, he kept you even closer than before, not allowing you to part from him ever again (despite understanding your yearning for rest).

Words were never the problem, it seemed.

Mr. Crawling would have always found a way to… connect with you.

[inthecratersofthemoon]

I had a dream called Spotify called Jazz Buddy. You could add one person, and only one person, to see the jazz music they were listening to, and only jazz music. My jazz buddy was William Riker.

[one-time-i-dreamt]

You had to take a test to be in a Fandom. Like, an exam style test. You had to study and if you didn't get enough questions right you weren't allowed to see or interact with any other fans until you passed the test. I failed one for my own characters somehow.

[painless-innit-colourful]

I love that the dsmp fandom had two really major fanfics. one was an rpf shipfic (with smut? vague smuttiness) that got way out of the small circles and flung a random pop song into the top 40 for over a year, and the other one was a family-based war-and-gods epic that got a major animatic, fansongs and tommyinnit to tweet 'why did I just watch myself get killed in HD'

[gay-chef-boyardee]

"Real people can queerbait you" factoid actualy statistical error. Average real person can't queerbait you. Ikiss georg, who harasses a british standup comedian and misleads his fanbase about his queerness intentionally for profit and attention for five years, is an outlier adn should not have been counted.

[bunrux]

friendship <3

[mangobubbletea7]

Can I also say that often, the women of the DSMP would often get way more criticism than the male creators would get.

We had Hannah getting attacked for saying “sus” in her stream title because she was doing “cultural appropriation” when it had been an internet wide meme for months and many of the men on the server made the same exact jokes. Then when she got upset because she had just been trying to mess around on the server for a fun stream, people accused her of “using white women’s tears” … She got criticized for winning the elytra wings for I don’t even remember what reasoning.

We had Niki cut out of the main plot for months when Wilbur basically just forgot about her character and when she finally carved out her own niche in the story, her character got visceral hate for months because she was playing a role against Tommy and trying to help create conflict for the story. ALSO PEOPLE ARE LITERALLY STILL MISSPELLING HER NAME TO THIS DAY. HER NAME IS 4 LETTERS LONG AND WE ARE THE FANDOM THAT LEARNED HOW TO SPELL L’MANBURG

We had Puffy blowing up Tommy’s house because he took down L’Targay, and then people Freaked Out about it because a few lines had been said about her being his therapist and because his character was still in conflict with Dream, Puffy was being evil to him and apparently no one else was allowed to do any kind of conflict with Tommy because of it. Another time Tommy was stirring up some conflict and stole Puffy’s axe and of course because she didn’t just let him have the axe (which wouldn’t have been good content) she got criticized. Because she was a therapist, if she ever treated Tommy with anything but perfect kid gloves, she got actual hate. We’re not even talking about how her character was SO often just reduced to “caring motherly therapist” when if you watched her for any amount of time you knew that she was chaotic as all hell and nothing like that.

[dream-diary-of-a-random-person]

5/11/2023

Had a dream last night where Phineas and Ferb had another movie, but in this one, it seemed like the main villain was going to be a Perry from the future who snapped and turned evil. Future Doof was talking to present Perry and was like, "I had a nemesis, once..." and took out a picture of Perry.

[michelle-jacksons-art-blog]

Maybe should've tried harder for that scholarship

[rocceater]

love it when people draw aus differently so some ideas for art styles and designs

ink belongs to comyet fresh belongs to loverofpiggies dream + nightmare belong to joku-blog