⚠️ TW: alcohol, Smut, manipulation, abuse, Gore, fighting, self harm, violence, blood, pressure, weapons, attempted suicide, suicide, Slurs.⚠️ 🚩⚠️ She/Her pronouns! ⚠️🚩 This is a dream X reader fanfiction if you aren't comfortable you are free to leave also this is a realistic smp story. Also some events don't actually happen in the lore but that's just how the story I'm making goes. anyways enjoy!!! Also if any of the real people in the story wish for me to take this down I will do so they are real people and should be treated as such. FOR EVERYONES INFORMATION THIS STORY HAS BEEN DISCONTINUED. DUE TO THE PASSING OF ALEX, ALSO KNOW AS TECHNOBLADE.

𝙸 𝚖𝚎𝚝 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚒 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚎𝚐𝚍𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚊 𝚋𝚞𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚋𝚛𝚒𝚍𝚐𝚎, 𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚊𝚟𝚎𝚍 𝚖𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚒 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚗𝚘 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚌𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚍. . . 𝚂𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚎𝚍: 20.10.20 𝙵𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚜𝚑𝚎𝚍: - 10.11.21 𝙴𝚍𝚒𝚝𝚎𝚍: - [dreamwastaken x fem!reader] If for whatever reason you're seeing this Dream or any of his friends, no you didn't...and also i will take this down if it makes any of you u n c o m f y. This is about Dream's online persona and not him as an actual person (• ◡•) - but I'll also be using his real name, idk. There will be mentions of sensitive subjects for some people but I'll put a TW. There are no NSFW scenes or anything sexual but there will be suggestive jokes and humour. [ART ON COVER IS NOT MINE, I got it from Pinterest so I apologise that I cannot find the artist, if you can please PM me :) Artists: -kouii.nn on Twitter and Instagram -lolo on Twitter]

It's an appload from A03 for those who don't have AO3 account :3 All credits to Thescus !!!!!! Art form @ups1gbt3f7op3dr https://ups1gbt3f7op3dr.tumblr.com

An alternate ending for the story 'Flowers from 1970' by the amazing @astr0nomika • Your story made me cry actual tears and inspired me to write again, so thank you for that. (I used a few of the lines from your fic to tie the stories together, hope that's ok!😬)

flowers from 1970 was sad, but this can help you to recover! George Davidson finds it hard to recover, months and months alone, bored, nothing to do. George has an idea to get his mind off things, he had been wanting to get out of the house, go on a walk, do some sketching like he used to do as a kid with his mother at the park. As he is walking down the street capturing the best qualities of the town, he encounters a tall, dirty-blonde man who looks like he is from the 70s

"hey dream? you're an asshole," she spoke slowly from her place in the corner, wrists tied behind her back. "you know, you're really not in a position to be saying things like that," he responded, twirling the handle of his sword in a circle.

"Can I tell you a secret?" he says in a hushed voice in the ill-illuminated room. "Spill," I smiled, thinking it was going to be something stupid like he peed his bed till he was six. Those were the kind of secrets we've been blurting out for the past thirty minutes as the tiredness of the late night got to us. "I'm Dream." he said in total seriousness, "Like the minecraft youtuber." I was quiet for a second before I laughed out loud.

"I'll read it out for you." Anne said, handing the cigarette back to you. "Wanted; for breaking and entering and robbery. Unknown bandit seen leaping from a window of a bank in Kempton, may be walking with a limp from the fall. Suspected to be about 5'8" and stocky build. Should any leads arise please contact local authorities." --- You hadn't even seen him there, obscured in the darkness of night - and it was obvious that he hadn't been expecting anyone to come out back. He startled, stumbling away from where he had been leaning, and your heart leapt into your throat, surprised in the worst way possible. So surprised, that you threw the bag of vegetable scraps at him as a form of self defense. The bag bounced harmlessly against the man's chest and landed on the ground. Your eyes darted to it first, but then up to the man you had thrown it at - taking in his features from the light streaming out of the still-open door. He wasn't too tall, but he had the build of someone who had known a farm life before - broad shoulders and muscle made for work, not show. His clothes were practical, and he carried a pack strapped to his back. It was his face that was the most interesting though - he couldn't have been much older than you, and he looked kind, for lack of a better word. Open, almost.

The song ended as you merged onto the highway and another familiar song started up - not by Myra but by an adjacent band to the Myracle Makers that you also liked - the Dream Team. You had found out about them through Myra's music (Spotify thought that they went together well) and you had fallen in love with a couple of their songs, and then a couple more, until you were in their top .5% of listeners. They were one of your favorite bands, and their song Florida Smile was a song for the soul. You smiled to yourself, turning up the radio. The familiar beat of the drums pumped through the speakers of your car and you began to sing along as the lead singer - he went by Dream as a stage name (like Dream's Team... haha) - began to sing. You knew all the words by heart. And you've got a Florida smile... sends my heart racing to the mark at the mile...

Dream x Reader