How to control your dreams:
1 – Check your reality throughout the day, as a dream will be nonsensical.
2 – Repeat to yourself what you wish to dream of.
3 – If you awake in the night, yet remember the dream, pretend you are back inside it.
Once in the dream:
1 – Read something. If it is incoherent, you are dreaming.
2 – Look up at the sky. It is too complicated for your brain to properly process, therefore, it will appear painted.
3 – Check yourself in a mirror. You will not look like you.
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Listening to one of your favourite Youtubers drone on about Lucid Dreaming, you began imagining all the possibilities. A dream which is almost reality, where natural and moral laws have no permit. Despite the intrigue, your conscious self elected to have you second-guess, as you ambled down a tranquil lane.
Absentmindedly, you perceived all the houses, noting striking features and colours. A friendly neighbour made her usual gesture, waving to you with a benevolent smile.
Proceeding towards your destination, your (e/c) orbs traced various shrubs and cracks in the pavement. They even glanced the sky, concluding that it looked real enough. Shrugging off the interesting video, your mind secretly storing each step into your subconscious, you manoeuvred past hoards of prideful teenage snobs.
Your locker was as dull as always – same textbooks, same posters, same unassuming picture of a boy in your class. It caught your immediate attention, as you constantly resorted to day-dreaming about him. Peter Parker, the seemingly nervous, nerdy kid, who in your opinion, just needed a lot of love.
Deciding that it wasn't worth the popular teens ganging up and making your fondness public, you allowed the locker door to shut with a resounding bang. Trudging towards your classroom, a stack of subject books in your arms, an annoyingly placed foot opted to be your doom for the day.
You fell, face-planting the ground, fully expecting a bout of obnoxious laughter to erupt from the bowels of every single person present. Instead, the only one finding it remotely amusing appeared to be the boy who had started it. Looks of disgust were thrown his way – you weren't unpopular. In fact, a lot of people gave you daily offerings of assistance in whatever you were struggling with.
A few girls collected your textbooks, and began helping you to your feet. Just then, the echoing of heavy footfalls resonated around the corridor. Soon enough, you came face-to-face with your very first love.
He shuffled anxiously. "Are y-you okay?"
Not trusting your voice, you simply nodded. Amongst the group of girls, your best friend of five years attempted not to explode with all the laughter she was holding. Watching this never-ending, infuriating game play out nearly every day took its toll. She walked forwards.
"Thanks Pete. She's fine. See?"
Encasing her hand around your arm, she brought it up and held out your palm, so that you were unwillingly waving to him. Craning your neck, you veiled as best you could your burning features. You heard a faint, nervous laugh, and instantly broke free from your restraint.
"C-Come on (B/F/N)."
--
When darkness arrived, you welcomed it excitedly. Memories of that video resurfaced, and so you reclined back, into your comfortable pillows, staring at the ceiling. Taking multiple deep, shaky breaths, you permitted (e/c) eyes to flutter shut.
Here goes nothing...
Clearing your mind, you informed your brain of its task.
I am going to dream that Peter asks me out.
I am going to dream that Peter asks me out.
Visualising the impending event, an eager feeling set into your stomach. Your consciousness slowly faded, the very last thought and image being of Peter.
--
Traversing an all-too-familiar street, you watched as once mild, genuine smiles contorted into something strange, almost psychotic. The usual structures, tall and imposing, although often warm and homely, meshed together to create a singular, multi-coloured building, the likes of which you had never before seen.
Vaguely remembering the video's advice, you turned your gaze towards the overhanging sky. The generic blues, combined with the dazzling white of clouds seemed...off. Unlike reality, where they appeared to move, these were eerily stationary. It also didn't look quite right – certain textures were misconstrued.
Not being in the vicinity of either a mirror or anything hazily resembling the alphabet, you continued forwards, glancing down once to realise that your feet weren't actually touching the ground.
A while later, after recording all the ambiguous features of this dream-world, you came upon the school. Like normal, people were entering the building, wearing a variety of uncoordinated clothing.
You panned out the day as conventionally as possible, awaiting your audience with Peter. A classroom was seen in your peripheral vision – one you had no reason to enter. However, it was so...out of place. In your school, this door was non-existent.
Curiously, you peaked inside, opening the door quietly, although you figured the noise wouldn't bother anyone. Standing there, practising lines, stood your beloved. He read from a script, flickering his eyes shut and breathing deeply. This was too perfect – even in your dream, where anything could happen, where he could be more confident, he was exactly the same.
This anxious, awkward, nerdy Peter was the one you loved. The one who was always willing to help his best friend, and practically the only person you ever really saw him with – not that you were observing.
With a shake of his head, he muttered, "No, no. Come on Peter."
Clearing his throat and opening his eyes, he started, "(Y/n), will you...", before cursing mildly and mumbling "No."
Using this as your opportunity, you allowed the door to squeak, alerting him of your presence. Immediately, he pivoted round, eyes flashing in concern upon glimpsing your figure.
"Um...uh...hi?" His wide orbs darted around the room, as he tried to play off his earlier one-sided conversation.
"Hi." You waved, cheeks blossoming cutely.
Overjoyed that this was indeed the same Peter, you gifted him a tender smile, prompting a recommencing of the question.
"What were you going to ask me?"
Endeavouring to direct his attention at you, he stilled his feet, mentally praying before gazing into your deep, (e/c) eyes with unadulterated adoration.
"Will...will you go out with me?"
