Dream Smp Fundy - Tumblr Posts
HEY ANGST HERE
Imagine like if c!Dream revives c!Wilbur instead of going crazy like everyone thought, c!Wilbur is just like completely oriented on being a good dad for c!Fundy.
I would cry, Let c!Fundy had a dad pls.
Shit that I miss about the lore /rp
Tommy is now free from jail
Jack is mad
Tubbo is just following him
Ranbo might kill Dream
Niki didn’t give a fuck about Tommy
Connor know something about Karl
Tommy finally gonna go to Therapy
Niki had a city with no government
Fundy make a prank over Ranboo and Technoblade (They remove it as of now)
Foolish is a god
something happened to Hanna (her skin turn from red to white/house goes to pink? to grey)
Tommy want to kill Dream
Puffy is a Mom to Michele
Tubbo and Ranboo Divorce Arc no.4????
it runs in the family
like father, like son
Button goes BOOM BOOM
Just woke up and WHAT THE FUUU /rp
c!Fundy slowly losing it
you are not real
saw the ending and
gift of Prophesy go brrr
the sound is a casino so something abt Quackity
THAT LORE IS GIVING ME ANXIETY
/rp
News: Local Furry is following His Dad footstep
Only in the dream smp
so, I thought of THE worst joke the other night (bear with me here)
we're generally aware of the fact that c!Fundy was (at least briefly) trans
but that got retconned (for understandable reasons)
HOWEVER, one could argue that, even if he is a completely cis man, c!Fundy was still AFAB
(this joke works in three different flavours: Assigned Fox/Fundy/Furry At Birth)
so, I thought of THE worst joke the other night (bear with me here)
we're generally aware of the fact that c!Fundy was (at least briefly) trans
but that got retconned (for understandable reasons)
HOWEVER, one could argue that, even if he is a completely cis man, c!Fundy was still AFAB
(this joke works in three different flavours: Assigned Fox/Fundy/Furry At Birth)
c!fundy purrs when he sleeps. you did not hear that from me tho :)
ngl if c!fundy was human he'd most likely have a fur suit and wear it secretly to avoid being called a furry
reminder, I didn't say this if the police asked <3
In and Out (Of Sync)
A short story about Fundy, and how he interacts with water and his family.
Words: 610
Trigger warnings: Brief mention of grief, death, and blood
⛈️🦊🕯️
He stood where the land met the rolling waves, watching as the wind picked up and threw the water down again. Pushing. Pulling. Pushing. And pulling again.
A breath. In and out. Pushing and pulling.
The air was wet and cold. Sharp.
A breath. In and out. A push. A pull.
He brought his arms above his head, slowly. And then down again. Push, pull. In, out.
Again. A breath. In and out. Up and down. Push and pull.
One leg over the other, bare feet on freezing sand, sticking to his skin despite quick spins.
In and out and up and down and push and pull and forward and backward.
Feeling the sea and the land colliding, eyes closed, he moves his body in harmony. In tandem. In sync. In and out.
Hands on his chest and then off. On and off.
Eyes open and then closed. Open and closed.
Arm over arm. Over and then under.
Blood warm. Warm and cold.
Memories swimming. Swimming and drowning.
Hands being held and let go.
A mother and a father.
Dead. Alive.
He’s alive. In and out and open and under and closed and swimming and off and dead and alive and in and out.
A raindrop on his nose. And arm. And head. And open eyes.
Drawn to the sea like his mother before him. Drawn to his mother like his father. Scared like a father. Curious like a mother. Dead. And alive.
And yet so peaceful.
A mother’s voice.
In.
“I’m here, Fundy. I see you, my son.”
And out.
Grief, Fundy has found, has a push and a pull. It came in suffocating waves and fast currents. High and low tide. Receding shorelines and tsunamis.
Fundy never knew his mother, so he began to dance again. The rain hit him with increasing intensity.
And yet, there are bright shining memories of her at the edge of his vision. A sure voice.
Especially by the water. He could feel her in the push and the pull. The neverending cycle from sea to sky and back again.
He reached his arm out with closed eyes, lunging parallel to the sea.
Memories of pictures and stories told by his father flooded through Fundy, clenched his chest, furrowed his eyebrows.
He knew his father.
Such confusion and anger surrounded, clouded his father. Peace, his mother. Chaos, his father.
In.
Sweltering heat.
In.
Fire.
In.
The taste of warm blood.
In.
A lighting strike.
In.
Explosions.
In.
A comforting hug.
Out.
In.
Fundy closed his eyes.
Out.
He leaned backwards, out of the lunge, into a stretch.
The rain moved swiftly onwards towards the mainland. Fundy watched it go. As the thunder continued to clap and lightning lit up the sky, Fundy could hear the booming message.
In.
His father’s voice
“Fundy, my son. How proud of you I am.”
Out.
In.
And
Fundy brang his feet to meet each other, one arm outstretched towards the storm and the other reaching towards the calming sea.
In and out but both moving.
Pushing and pulling and both changing.
Up and down but both infinite.
Forward and backward but both steps.
On and off and open and closed and over and under and warm and cold and swimming and drowning and holding and letting go and dead and alive and it’s all the same.
The storm and the sea. Both are made of water.
Both are the same.
Everything. From the sun in the sky to the sand on the beach. The plants growing and the animals that eat them.
In one singular moment, Fundy felt that peace. The certainty. The balance. The understanding.
Out.