and they invaded my dreams

If nothing else, the Zim revival has re-ignited my desire to own a shirt like Dib’s. You know, the one with a :| face…

Nickelodeon/Hot Topic please sell an official one on top of the 10,000 GIR shirts I know you no doubt have primed and ready I can and will pay good money for that crap.

Originally posted by thefurryshinigami

anonymous asked:

I had a weird dream the other night where there was a Carl and Ted face reveal and they were twin brothers. my biggest question tho is WHY IS THIS BLOG INVADING MY DREAMS???

Ted the Animator: “…Carl, you wouldn’t happen to have been doing any weird tests for dream-controlling technology, would you?

Carl the Animator: “Nah… besides, it’s way easier to just use subliminal messages.”

Ted the Animator: “Ok, good, just m– wait, what?

Carl the Animator: “Nothin’.”

B.A.P Himchan - Debut Story

In his first year in college, Himchan ended up being casted by an entertainment company that specialized for actors and started playing a series of minor roles.

“I think I spent my time actively while I was a minor actor partaking in ads and even appeared in a cell phone CF featuring celebrities like seniors T-Ara and Yoon Siyoon. Of course, you can’t see my face though (laughs).
Also in 2011, I appeared in the music video for senior Jung Seulgi. I was even a protagonist for an independent film.”

“In 2011, with the recommendation of TS Entertainment’s current recruiter for actors and in seeing the family-like atmosphere alongside meeting the CEO, I decided to sign with them right away and became thus a trainee . I don’t think I’ll come to regret this decision and I find it fate (laughs).”

However, Himchan wasn’t skilled in dancing or singing from the start. Himchan having only played gukak [T/N: Traditional Korean drum with two sides], dancing or singing was very new to him.

“All I remember is that I would get in trouble because I couldn’t sing or dance. Because I only played instruments, it was hard to maneuver my body.
I knew that practice was the only road to save myself so I practiced endlessly and there were about 30 peers who were practicing to become a member of B.A.P. It was indeed an intense survival game in which I survived.”

Despite the rigorous competition, what was a big strength to him was same-aged leader Bang Yongguk who as an underground rapper was also experiencing at that time a lot of hardships in dancing.

“At first, Yongguk and I lived in a dorm together and I thought that was the most fun. I was able to tell Yongguk openly about all my troubles (laughs).
Yongguk? He’s a friend who has upright values and in meeting Yongguk, I think I changed a lot too.”

Bang Yongguk and Himchan, the two depended on one another and began overcoming the obstacle of their trainee years.

Of course, there were many times when they wanted to give up but all of a sudden, the two same-aged friends became the two dependable eldest members of B.A.P.

“My dream? Invading the universe haha. Also, I want to be able to be with the members of B.A.P for a long time.
Of course, with our fans too (laughs). With how much obstacles I’ve faced to make a debut, I want to promote just as hard and I’ll continue to become a Himchan who never loses his roots.”

Theory about the demon infant/moonlight child & dreams

More like crack theory, but it invaded my mind this morning and it just won’t leave me alone, so here goes nothing: going back to the tower of conviction arc, there was a scene that never struck me as odd until, well, this morning and that is:

What that apostle implied about the demon infant dying and dreaming about the “new world” (aka Griffith being reborn and becoming humanity’s savior lmao) hit something in my mind today because the story is currently focusing on bringing Casca’s sanity back, thanks to a journey through her dreams.

And in ch348, it was implied that, even though they’re technically called “dreams”, it’s completely possible through them (and thanks to magic) to change the dreamer who is currently asleep in the “real world”. 

In Casca’s case, hopefully Schierke and Farnese will be able to make good changes, but that got me thinking: what if, through magic, this “corridor of dreams” was… somehow like another “dimension”? A bit like the astral plane if you would, except that it is about “dreams”… 

…and only powerful beings like the Sovereign of the flower storm have access to it. 

Now, look at the moonlight child: he’s a young kid that many readers believe could be what’s left of the demon infant ever since Griffith’s rebirth, but Schierke told us many times that…

his OD, to which the brand doesn’t react to, is strange, which means it has nothing to do with the beings of the astral world (or the underworld) that Schierke is used to and he’s clearly not human (or having to do with Danan). 

We know he’s using the full moon to appear because that’s the time magic forces are at their strongest, and it’s actually been hinted that Griffith doesn’t disappear on full moon nights (meaning that these two probably don’t share a body, at least not during the full moon). We also saw him disappear in vol 37…

…through that tree that expands even to the moon and that apparently links every plane/world together.

Back to the demon infant and dreams, considering his behavior until Griffith’s reincarnation, I wouldn’t be surprised if he were to have dreams about living a happy life with his parents, especially since the Skull Knight confirmed that all children (even demons) yearn for their parents. 

And anyway, one of the reasons many readers associate the moonlight child to the demon infant is basically because the moonlight child, each time he appears, behaves as if he were Casca’s child (eyeing Guts and saving him when necessary too). Isidro even called them and Guts out for looking like a family once. 

Here’s the thing though: we know that the demon infant is definitely a current “living” part of Griffith, as the man commented on feeling the baby’s fear for his parents during vol 22 (when Guts and Zodd were fighting), so if Griffith doesn’t disappear on nights with a full moon…

…that means that the moonlight child (if he’s linked to the demon infant) got his body from someone/somewhere else.

So here’s my theory: what if the moonlight child is none other than the corporeal incarnation of the demon infant’s own dream?

If the baby that became a part of Griffith when he was reincarnated is sometimes dreaming, as the apostle of the tower of conviction implied, then he might be dreaming about seeing his parents again, or simply about what it would be like to spend time as a family?

And thanks to this baby being a strange being in the first place, but also being a part of Griffith and full moons helping, maybe that’s how the moonlight child comes to be every month for just one night (naked as the demon infant always was and powerful, because it’s the full moon or because of Griffith’s powers that the demon infant might be sharing)?

That would definitely explain the boy’s strange OD in any case and maybe even why he looked to have grown up in vol 36/37, as he would be the first dream incarnation that we would meet in the story (and that would fit with the fact that Griffith/Femto definitely seems still corporeal during the full moon). 

TL;DR maybe the “corridor of dreams” that Danan uses is some kind of plane, like the astral plane, that can be accessed through the world tree.
And maybe, during full moons, the demon infant has enough powers to materialize his dearest dream for one night, which is to say he “dreams” of being a young boy able to spend time with his parents, which is why a corporeal moonlight child materializes where his parents are.

Sorry if something doesn’t make sense, but feel free to leave your thoughts! 

3

Smutty!!! Damon Smut!!! Damon X Fem!Reader




Damon rolled his eyes as Stefan walked away from him and headed to his room, stopping and back tracking when he saw you still asleep, your door open from when Stefan had tried to convince you to get up. Your (Y/H/C) hair was spread out across your pillow and he couldn’t help but admire how beautiful you looked in your sleepy state.



His pleasant mind state didn’t last long as his eyes fell on a leather bound journal, that you were forever hiding from him, sat on your desk. Seeing as now was probably the best time to read it and collect information to tease you with he crossed the room and sunk into the surprisingly comfortable desk chair.


 

“Well, well (Y/N) I knew that sweet and innocent character of yours was an act.” Damon mumbled as he flipped to a random page and began reading the Intricately described dreams, become pleasantly surprised when he became the main focus of your diary.

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anonymous asked:

Hi there! I understand that you already wrote something similar to this so it's ok if you don't write this, but can you do a Lucifer x reader where reader is just an ordinary day-to-day human who is aware of how painfully average she is and has low self-esteem. She's attracted to Lucifer, but doesn't think he'd ever feel the same bc she's plain and boring so she distances herself from him. Lucifer of course notices and gets fed up with her constantly avoiding him and and confronts her about it.

A/N: I’m super sorry this took awhile! I wrote a couple of drafts up as I decided which way I wanted to go with this. Finally I liked this outcome the most. I always entertain the idea that ‘beauty is in the eye of the beholder’ we may think ourselves average/boring/etc, but to others, we’re everything they could want or hope to be. ♥ You’re a beautiful person regardless of what you think of yourself

Beauty


He visits you in your dreams at first, curious as to why you hadn’t come home, concerned even. You laugh the thought off because Lucifer being worried for you was more than any dream could actually give you. Squashing down the longing and guilt because what could you offer Lucifer? Nothing. You had nothing to give him, except allowing him to stay in your house - but that wasn’t worth noting because he could have just taken it.

You had nothing interesting to give, nothing special and nothing unique about you to offer up to someone like him. He was an Angel and you.. You were average at best, average grades in college, average family, friends. Nothing really stuck out and screamed this separates me from the rest and that was something you struggled with, daily. Overlooked in class, teachers forgetting your name while they remembered others, you blended in with the background and that wasn’t even a talent. You didn’t want to be another piece in the background, you wanted to be special - stand out, but God had dealt you an average life and no matter how much you tried to change it never made a difference.

You were destined to be the background character for someone else’s story, never the lead of your own.

It hurt to think about sometimes, especially the more you thought about how delusional you had been in thinking that Lucifer would want something like you. You, who had only recently learned that Angels and Demons actually existed, that God was very much alive and Lucifer was very real, and just as beautiful as all the scriptures made him out to be. He had only come to your house because you were average at best, easily overlooked and the perfect place to hide away from prying ‘hunters’ who were on the look out for him.

You had indulged in the idea that you had stood out to him, but the longer time went on and the more you had stood beside him the more you realized how wrong you were. He chose you because of how easily forgotten you were, it was hard to suspect someone who blended in so easily to the background. Even in dreams the thoughts bring the sting of tears to your eyes, and you press the palms of your hands up against your eyes with a shuddering breath.

You know he arrives when the hard concrete beneath you changes into grass, and the cold air turns into a warm summer breeze. The warmth of the sun against your back and you peel your hands away from your face, ignoring the fact that your eyes are probably red along with your nose. You had never been a elegant or attractive crier.

“You’re avoiding me, and starting to hurt my feelings.” He says quietly, his fingers pressed together as he slowly makes his way up the hill he had placed you on. The blue sky casts a halo of bright white clouds around his head as he stands at the edge of your hill he’s placed you on and a forced laugh crosses your lips.

Drawing your knees up to your chest you wrap your arms around your legs, curling into yourself as if hiding your vulnerability. But that was a laughable thought, if he really wanted to know, no amount of curling into yourself would stop him.

“I am not, I’ve been busy with classes and exams.” You lie smoothly, a lie you’ve told your parents when you didn’t want to come home or a lie you’ve told friends when you didn’t want to hang out.

“I haven’t been alive longer than the entire human race to fall for such a lie,” He says casually and you skirt your eyes away from him, lacing your fingers together tightly until your knuckles are white.

“It’s not polite to invade my dreams,” You try to change the subject and Lucifer only stares at you with a bemused expression on his face.

“I wouldn’t have to if you weren’t avoiding me.”

You didn’t want to argue that you weren’t avoiding him because you were and he was right, you couldn’t lie to him and get away with it. But you didn’t want to face the truth, because you were still trying to come to terms with it - that you weren’t anything special to him. You were the average girl he’d leave behind once he no longer needed a spot to hide away in, not that he needed to hide.

A frustrated groan mixed with another sting of tears against your eyes and you untangle your fingers and thread them through your hair, tugging on the strands. It hurt to think about and you didn’t want to deal with your feelings - your inability to cope with the fact that Lucifer would never care about you, you were too average for that.

“[Name],” His voice is quiet, tilting his head down a fraction to look at you but you’re unwilling to meet his gaze.

This was still your dream and his visits had made you aware of how easy it was to manipulate them to get away. You didn’t want to face the truth, not right now.

“I have to go.” Your voice cracks, and Lucifer twitches, ready to stop you but the dream melts away and you wake up on the floor in your friend’s bedroom. A shuddering breath as you wipe away the stray tears with the palms of your hands, hoping you hadn’t made any noise in your sleep. Lucifer commented once or twice that occasionally you would mutter in your sleep, incoherent but things that bothered you that you were trying to work out.

The morning goes by quickly, quizzing yourself on the way to campus for the exams you have. The pencil feels heavy and so do your eyelids, the words on the test fill your head with cotton and you’re frustrated and exhausted all at the same time. So when the letters on your exam paper start to move around you blame it on your exhaustion and rub at your eyes, but they’re still moving.

Look up.

Your gaze slowly drags up and it’s only then that you notice the entire room is completely silent, no one is moving and your gaze falls on Lucifer standing in the front of the room. He doesn’t look pleased to say the least, and your stomach clenches and there’s a thousand lies on your tongue that you swallow down.

“What are you doing here?”

“Well you don’t give me any time to talk anywhere else.” He’s pressing his fingers together in the familiar fashion as he slowly makes his way up the aisle of desks toward yours. “Are you going to tell me why you are avoiding me?”

You didn’t want to deal with this, not now, not today but he wasn’t giving you an option. The familiar sting against your eyes lets you know that they’re slowly turning red and you drop your pencil to rub at your face stubbornly. Your nose burns, your eyes burn, your chest hurts and the anxious butterflies manage to tie down your tongue.

But he waits.

“I-I don’t,” Your voice and lips tremble, and you fight back the tears that threaten to spill as you try to get how you feel out. But it’s not something you do, not something you’re used to. You’re the one in the background, keeping everything to yourself because you just didn’t quite fit in anywhere enough to express them. “Why do you even care?” You finally turn to look at him, the corners of your lips twitching down against your will.

It’s easier to just ask him, to accuse him, to throw the blame all at his face and though he knows that’s exactly what you’re doing he takes a seat on the edge of your desk. There’s no anger on his face, nothing like you were expecting - after all why would he give someone as average as you the time of day? Or allow you to accuse him?

“Why do you even want me around? I’m- I’m-” You inhale sharply and look away, glaring at the front of the room. “I’m just.. A nobody, nothing special. Not some.. Some.. hunter or demon, or angel. I’m one of the things you hate so- I don’t. Why?”

It spills past your lips and the tears make their way down your cheeks and you rub them away furiously. Clenching your teeth together because goddammit why did he have to come around and make everything complicated? Why did he come into your life if all he was going to do was make you aware of how small you were, insignificant and how much you felt you didn’t fit in.

He sighs and shifts on your desk, you glance up at him and he’s looking up at the ceiling with his hands folded in his lap.

“You humans are so emotional.”

If he was going to berate you, then you didn’t want to hear it. You had enough torture of being in love with him and knowing he didn’t love you back, but to hear him berate you? It would hurt a little too much, but your body won’t respond when you want to get up and you shoot him a pained glare.

“You’ve done enough running away from me,” He keeps you rooted to your seat and your face scrunches up as you look away.

“If you’re just going to make fun of me I don’t want to hear it,” Your voice cracks and the tears drip down but you can’t move your hands to wipe them away, he’s got you frozen in place.

“You’re avoiding me because you think I care that you’re not something else?”

Your lips tremble and you bite down on your lower one, furrowing your eyebrows and looking away from him. The only comfort you have since you can’t escape the situation, he was kind enough to allow you to look away from him, it was something at least.

“I’m nothing.. I’m, I’m human. I’m not- I’m not even a good one,” You laugh bitterly and you desperately want to rub at your face but he’s still got you frozen. “I’m nobody special, I’m.. I’m average in life. I don’t, I can’t understand why you are hanging around. Why do you even care?”

“Who says you’re average?”

Your eyebrows furrow, and you grit your teeth.

“I am average, I have nothing unique-”

“Says who?”

You floundered for words, why did it matter who said it?

“It doesn’t matter-”

“Says who?”

“Me!” You ground out, frustrated because why did it matter who said it? It was the truth and it didn’t explain anything you wanted- no, needed to know.

His hands gently press up against your cheeks and you flinch but he’s careful, making you look up at him as his thumbs brush against the stray tears.

“You’re not average, you are humble. You don’t think you’re special but you’re modest. You don’t look down on others, you don’t get angry when you think someone else is prettier or better than you. You are what God created perfectly.”

A sob makes its way out and you clench your eyes tightly because you can’t bring yourself to look at him, because he’s lying and it hurts in the worst way. He hated humans, so why was he being so kind?

“You are not how you see yourself, how I see you. You think you’re average, the sidelines - I’ve heard how you think of yourself. You are the only thing holding yourself back of being the star of your story, you are not forcibly on the sidelines watching. You are waiting until you are strong enough to take the lead, and that in itself is beautiful.”

“You hate humans,” You blurt out, opening your eyes to see his amused expression.

“No, I hate that I was to love them more- to bow to them instead of my father. You are his creations, and you are his perfect one.”

You were always an ugly crier, the tears and snot threatening to slip out and he releases the hold on you. Allowing you to furiously wipe away at your face and curl into yourself, his hand brushing against the back of your neck as you bury your face into your hands. Soothing circles rubbed against the skin there as you hiccup into your hands.

“Are you going to keep avoiding me?”

You can’t bring yourself to look up at him so instead you shake your head back and forth and hear him sigh softly. His hands slipping beneath your chin to lift your head up and leave you stunned as his lips gently press against your own for the briefest of seconds.

“I’ll see you at home?” His forehead is against yours and you give a weak nod, sniffing once and he smiles softly. A beautiful smile that melts your heart before the rustle of feathers and he’s gone - the entire room moving once more and you look down at your exam. Too exhausted emotionally to really want to continue it - maybe you can feign illness and take a makeup later. To your surprise the answers are all filled out, and at the bottom the small moving text catches your eye.

You’re welcome.

A laugh slips past your lips and you quickly cover your mouth, standing up to hand in your completed exam.

You had someone waiting at home, after all.


Taglist:

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Kiss It Better

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Word Count: 686

A/N: This punk has to stop invading my dreams. 

Originally posted by steverogersdaily

“You didn’t have to do that, you know?” you mentioned, cleansing up the wounds on Steve’s face as the both of you resided in the living room. “You didn’t have to get yourself into a fight because of me. I’m okay. I’m over it.”

“He hurt you. He cheated on you with another girl. What did you expect me to do?” he argued back, wincing from the sting of the antiseptic. You sighed and continued cleaning up the injuries, disregarding the pair of blue eyes that watched you longingly. Although words were left unspoken, you knew how Steve felt about you. He felt that way about you for a long time, but you never reciprocated those feelings. You weren’t sure what exactly stopped you, but you always thought it was better just to be friends. It was better, right?

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The Ramblings of an Introvert (Part Seven) // Spencer Reid

Part 1/ Part 2/ Part 3/ Part 4/ Part 5/ Part 6


A/N: The “technical” end to Ramblings. I will be adding an epilogue to finish off this series. Thank you so much for loving this series as much as I have. I am sad to see it end, and yet happy to know it’ll be complete soon.


Originally posted by matthewgrayistherightway


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Growing with cartoons

When I was kid there were so many things I wanted to:
Be an agent of woohp
Live in the cul de sac with the Eds
Be in the winx club
Live in the middle of nowhere
Go on missions with a kimmunicator
Be a Powerpuff girl
Save the world with Dib
Work with X-J 9
Be a Teen Titan
But now I hear people say that those were the only good cartoons, so those are he only dreams worth having. Then tell me, why do I now want to:
Solve mysteries with Dipper and Mabel
Dimension hop with Star and Marco
Fight alongside the crystal gems
Battle monsters in the land of Ooo
Work at the park with Mordecai and Rigby
Travel the galaxies with Wander and Sylvia
Save Equestria with the mane 7
Get revenge with Dan Mandel
Cartoons these days are just as good as the ones 10 years ago. If you can’t see it then open your eyes a little wider.

  • You're invading my thoughts
  • You're invading my dreams
  • You're everywhere
  • I can't seem to get away even when I try
  • This feeling is just too strong and truthfully I hope it never ends

my dream:

i had my first bts related dream last night. 

i dreamt kookie was clinging on to me whilst i tried to let go of him, and he started being all cute and everything whilst i was like ‘no go leave, go i need an intellectual aka namjoon’. 


BUT HE WOULDN’T LEAVE. 

HE MADE ME FEEL THINGS THAT I DIDN’T WANT TO LIKE BEING FLUFFY AND CUTE WHEN NO- THAT IS RESERVED FOR KIM NAMJOON. 


GO AWAY JEON JUNGKOOK. DON’T INVADE MY DREAMS. GO SPRIKLE SOME GOLDEN GLITTER SOMEWHERE ELSE. 

GODDDD. 

JUST WHEN I THOUGHT I FINALLY GOT RID OF YOU.

ASSHOLE. 

Counting One, Two, Three

Summary: When sleep doesn’t find you, you decide to entertain yourself to pass the time. (Modern-AU)

Word Count: 952

A/N: Okay yeah, I know I said that I was going to take a little time off from writing, but a certain overly attractive patriotic punk decided to invade my dreams last night and I had to write out what happened. 

Originally posted by finnisjedi

One, two, three, four, five, six…seven? Eight?! No…that can’t be right. That’s physically impossible! I need to recount this. You furrow your brows in concentration as you count again, your fingers tapping against the firm surface. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven…eight?! What the hell?! Huffing in frustration, you start tallying again. “One, two, three, four, five…”

“What are you doing?” Your hand quickly drops to your side as you feign sleep, closing your eyes and relaxing yourself against the warm body beside you. You steady your breathing and hope that your actions don’t get questioned. “(Y/N), I know you’re awake.” You sigh in defeat and glance up, meeting the gaze of your friend. Sporting a lopsided grin on his face, Steve tilts his head to the side. “What were you doing?”

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Dream of the chamber of vessels, 1.10.15

Yet another encounter with the ambiguous female character that keeps invading my dreams. This time she presents herself as an “ancient woman” (Lilith?) that can only be summoned within a specific chamber of a labyrinthine palace (?). The chamber can be recognized by dozens of vessels or lamps set on its floor. Lilith sprouts directly from a wall as a result of some alchemical (?) manipulations of mine the particulars of which are unclear. Her body is never completely human; I have a feeling she is a homunculus conjured by the dream world/the labyrinth as a means of communication. We spend the day talking and exploring the palace; she keeps levitating slightly behind me and disappears at some point when I turn around to address her. In my dream I enter the labyrinth many times and never fail to locate the chamber and summon the ominous entity.

This study is an important record because my dream seems to have been directly inspired by a very similar vision my son had experienced the previous night. In his dream Lilith was summoned in the course of a sleep-like trance and emerged from folds of flesh covering the walls of a living maze.  

Acrylics on paper, 29.5 x 20.3 cm