#happy reading i'm going to sleep

[dreamofbecoming]

more stobin nonsense from your resident trash goblin. feat. shitty harrington parents, lavender marriage, full party found family shenanigans, steddie flirting, steve&will bonding, and a severe lack of dialogue tags

rating: t wc: 5k ao3

“I knew it!”

Steve sighs. Listen, he knew the minute he opened his mouth that this was coming. There was always a zero percent chance Dustin was ever gonna let him get out the whole thing before bursting in with this exact interruption, but that doesn’t make it less annoying. If the little shithead would just let him finish--

"I knew you were perfect together, I can't believe you didn't tell us you were dating! How long have you been a thing? I have money to collect! Can I be your best man? Never mind, obviously I'm gonna be your best man. You so owe me for not telling me sooner! I cannot believe-"

"Henderson!"

"What?"

"We're not together like that."

In fairness, Dustin is not the only one to give them an incredulous look for that one.

"Steve. You literally just announced you and Robin are getting married. What is even the point of pretending you're not in love anymore? What are you still trying to prove? Just admit I was right the whole time!"

Steve pinches the bridge of his nose and forces himself to take a deep breath, instead of wringing Dustin's weird little boneless neck. It's not his fault, he reminds himself. They haven't gotten to the second part of the announcement, so his assumptions are natural.

Now, it is Henderson's fault that they haven't managed to say the rest of what they came here to say, so maybe he can keep blaming him after all.

"Do you remember when we sat down and we asked you guys to let us say everything we were gonna say without interrupting?"

"Uh, yeah dude, it was like ten minutes ago. We're not stupid."

"Has it occurred to you that maybe we weren't done saying everything we were gonna say, considering I was halfway through a sentence when you jumped in?"

"I mean, I guess, but like, it's pretty obvious where you're going with this, Steve. You're not a complicated guy, no offense. Now, where did we land on the best man issue?"

Nancy must see the offense very much taken on his face, because before he can open his mouth and say something probably horrifically rude that would feel amazing in the moment and which he would immediately regret, she jumps to his rescue.

"Dustin, you're being very rude. Steve and Robin came here to talk to us, and we promised to listen. Let them finish."

It's nice of her to back Steve up, considering how weird this conversation must be for her. Hopefully it gets less awkward soon.

Henderson grumbles mutinously, but years of dealing with first Mike and then the rest of the little dickheads have left Nancy's control ironclad, and he waves sarcastically for Steve to continue.

This kid is spending too much time with Eddie, the attitude is getting out of hand.

"Right. Thanks, Nance. As I was saying, Robin and I are getting married, yes. But not because we're in love. I mean, I love her, obviously, but as a friend. Only a friend. Or, well, I guess a friend and soon a...friend...wife? Frife? Wend? You guys get it."

"We very much don't." Alright, well, fine, add Max to the shitlist.

He looks over at Robin, hoping for help, but she's stiff as a board and trembling all over.

He doesn't want to be the one to say the words for her. They agreed together to tell everyone the truth, it was her idea even, but the last thing he wants to do is steal that moment from her.

Maybe he can just…talk around it, until she feels up to it. And if not, he’ll just tell them his part of it and call it good.

“We’re getting lavender married.”

Okay, so that’s probably not like. A normal way to say that or whatever. Robin just used that term like fifty times last night, alright? She was really excited about the article she just read about it, something about how it was a thing in, like, olden times or whatever, and now it’s coming back because Reagan is a fucking tool, Steve’s not sure, he was only kind of listening. Regardless, now it’s stuck in his head. Sue him or whatever, geez.

Anyway, he isn’t sure how many people in this room will actually understand what that means, but Nancy’s mouth drops open in a perfect little O the way it only does when she’s genuinely surprised by something, and there’s a tiny gasp from over by the table that he thinks might have come from Will, and Max mutters to herself “Oh shit, that explains so much,” so it’s not none of them, which helps. No pitchforks yet, at least.

Jonathan is eyeing him speculatively, and Argyle is offering him an enthusiastic thumbs up, which is nice.

Unfortunately, the other boys and El are giving him blank, expectant stares, and Erica is eyeing him with both confusion and annoyance, so it looks like he still has some explaining to do.

“What the hell does your color scheme have to do with this? I’m not helping plan the wedding, dude, I don’t care that much.”

Steve mumbles a “Language,” on reflex, but his heart isn’t in it. This is somehow more nerve-wracking than evil Russians.

“Mike, that’s not what it means. Now shut up and listen, or I’ll tell Mom how that red sock ended up in her load of white delicates.”

“Oh come on, she’ll kill me!” When all he gets in return is a single raised eyebrow, he groans and slumps further into his seat, glaring at Steve.

“Right. Okay. So basically, last night, my parents--”

“I’m a lesbian!”

There’s a beat of dead silence, which in this group is more unsettling than just about anything else.

Steve keeps his eyes on Robin, who looks just about as shocked at her own outburst as everyone else in the room. He takes her hand, squeezing gently until she unfreezes a little and looks back over at him. She looks terrified, and it breaks his heart a little.

“You okay, babe?” He keeps his voice low, murmuring just loud enough for her to hear. He knows this moment is the opposite of private, but she needs him to pretend for a second, so that’s what he’s gonna do.

She nods, a little jerkily, but she grips his hand back and intentionally evens out her breathing. She’s so fucking brave. He would burn the world down for Robin Buckley, and he doesn’t care who knows it.

He can’t believe she’s willing to do this for him, but he’s so grateful he feels like he’s choking on it.

“Henderdork will literally never shut up and let you live it down if we do this and he doesn’t know the truth. Not even for a single second for the rest of forever, and I, for one, am not putting up with that shit until death or legal marriage reforms do us part, Dingus.”

It was a solid point last night when they came up with the plan, curled on her bed while she stroked his hair and generously pretended he hadn’t soaked the shoulder of her shirt with his sobs, all his worldly possessions packed into a duffel on her bedroom floor, but he knows her insistence was more about knowing how much he hates lying to the kids than it was about protecting herself from irritating teenagers.

He doesn’t think there’s enough room on the whole planet to hold all the love he feels for her, even if you count the Upside Down and any other weirdo dimensions floating around out there waiting to ruin his day.

“I’m okay, bubba. Don’t let go?” Her hand is shaking in his, but he just squeezes harder.

“Never.” He turns back to the room, eyes hard as he scans the faces of their family for any hostility. He wouldn’t have agreed to this part of the plan if he thought any of them would be a problem, but he’s not taking anything for granted with Robbie’s safety. Not now, not ever. "Everyone's gonna be cool about that, right?"

"Of course we are, right, guys?" From the pained grunt that follows her words, Steve assumes Max has dug her elbow into Mike's ribs.

"Yeah, sure, whatever."

"I suppose this makes you slightly less lame, Buckley. It's definitely better than when I thought you liked this loser." Wow, okay, thank you Erica.

"Yeah totally! Thanks for trusting us, Robin." Lucas is a sweetheart, he really is. He's also glancing surreptitiously at Will while he nods enthusiastically, who is still staring open-mouthed at Robin with wide, shiny eyes.

"Yes, thank you for trusting us, Robin." Nancy is smiling kindly, but she's got that glint in her eye that Steve knows means she just came up with more questions and is waiting for the right moment to strike. Fair enough, at least she's letting Robs have her moment first.

He finally drags his eyes back to Dustin, who he doesn't really want to admit, even to himself, he's a little worried about. Not that he'll be shitty about it, necessarily, but there's nothing that brings out Henderson's bitchy side like being wrong, and he's been so fucking wrong this entire time. It's bound to upset him.

And maybe Steve will never say this out loud where the other kids might hear, but the truth is that Dustin's opinion matters to him more than just about everyone else's. Dustin was the first person in the whole world who saw Steve, the real Steve, and decided he was worth keeping around. If Henderson can't accept this part of Robin, it means he can't accept this part of Steve, and if that happens...if that happens Steve isn't sure he'll be able to come back from it.

So he's...not worried, okay? Worried is not the right word. Anxious, maybe. Concerned.

Okay fine fuck off he's worried.

Dustin...looks like he's about to cry. Shit.

"Did you think you couldn't trust me?" His voice is so small. Steve doesn't think he's ever heard it so small. It feels wrong. Henderson's voice should fill every room he's in, always. "You didn't have to lie. You could have told me the truth."

Aw, fuck.

"Buddy,--"

"It's not that simple, little man."

Steve whips back around to look at Robin. Are you sure you’re up for this? She purses her lips and narrows her eyes. Yeah, Dingus, this is my mess. Let me clean it up. Put the lance down, White Knight. Well, alright then. He waves for her to continue, ignoring the looks the others always shoot them when they do their silent conversation thing. Not his fault they can’t read each other as well, it’s not like it’s hard.

"Before today, Steve was the only person in the world who knew about me. And honestly, I don't know if I would have told him if we weren't both coming off torture and truth serum. I've worked hard to hide it my whole life, baby Dingus, that's not an easy thing to stop doing. It's scary."

"But we're your friends. We're your family! We saved the world together! You should trust your family, right?"

Aw, jeez. Steve forgets, sometimes, how young they are. They've been through horrific supernatural trauma, but they're still the kind of kids who think life is a story with a happy ending, like their little dragon game.

"Yeah, bud, you should, but it's not always that easy. There can be really serious consequences for telling the wrong person. Like, last night my parents found out I'm bisexual by accident and now I...well. Now I don't have parents anymore." Oof, okay, little blunter than he meant to be, but Robbie's getting anxious again so he has to take the focus back.

There's an eruption of sound, as every voice in the Party starts shouting all at once, turning the Wheeler's basement into Steve's own personal migraine generator.

"Did they kick you out?"

"You're bisexual?!"

"What's bisexual?"

"They can't just do that!"

"Does this mean we have to find somewhere else for Hellfire nights?"

That last one earns Erica several Looks, but she doesn't flinch. "What? I'm just being practical."

He wishes Eddie was here. The gremlins actually listen to him, unlike Steve, on account of as their Hellfire DM, he has leverage they care about to threaten them with. Well, most of them, but it's definitely a help when he's around.

Sadly he and Wayne are at some kind of Munson family reunion down in West Virginia this week, so Steve is gonna have to do this whole spiel over again when he gets back. He and Robin thought about waiting until he got back and the whole Party could be together, but the kids would definitely notice him not living in Loch Nora anymore pretty much immediately. And Steve hates the idea of telling him over the phone, so double coming out/engagement announcement it is.

"Alright, Jesus Christ, enough! One at a goddamn time, you animals."

He looks back at Dustin, who's definitely crying now. "Yeah, buddy, they kicked me out, but I'm okay. I'm staying with the Buckleys for now, and Rob and I have been saving up to move in together soon anyway, so all this did is move up our timeline. I'm safe and I'm fine, okay? I promise."

Dustin plasters himself to Steve's front, squeezing like he's worried Steve is going to shatter into pieces and he can hold him together by sheer force of will. It's very sweet, even if it's crushing his lungs a little.

"I'm sorry you felt like you couldn't tell me." The words are muffled in Steve's chest, he's not sure anyone else heard him.

"Aw, kid, it's okay. I trust you, alright? Always. You die, I die, remember? I was just...figuring my shit out, that's all."

"Your parents are mouthbreathers." Steve chuckles a little at the mutinous glare on El's face, not pausing his hand where he's stroking Dustin's hair.

"You're not wrong, Supergirl. But it's fine, honestly. They've always been dicks, I've been planning to move out for a long time. They just...gave me the final push, is all." He's definitely leaving out the part where he broke down sobbing in Robbie's bed last night, asking her over and over why he was so broken that his own parents couldn't love him, but the kids don't need to hear that part of the story.

"Does this have something to do with your whirlwind engagement?" There she is, ace reporter Nancy Wheeler. Observant as always.

"Yeah, pretty much. They disinherited me, but they're still legally my next of kin."

"And Dingus has had far too much head trauma for me to trust he's not gonna end up back in the hospital for something at some point, and the last thing we need is Mr. and Mrs. von Child Neglect getting that call. And I was just reading about gay men and women who are marrying each other so they can have someone allowed in to see in them in the hospital, because of the virus, you know? And I thought, hey that's not a half bad idea! We're gonna be living together anyway, and it's not like I'm marrying anyone else, and it'll be good for both of us to have someone who knows about, y'know, monsters and all that jazz, to do our power of attorney stuff, so, voila! Mr. and Mrs. Bucklington!"

"We are not changing our name to Bucklington."

"Well Harringley is worse, so suck it up, buttercup."

"I'm not interested in keeping the Harrington name, Bobs, I'd rather just be a Buckley."

"Aw, bubba, you're gonna make me cry!"

"You should both become Hendersons! Then we'd really be brothers!"

Steve erupts into laughter, the tension effectively broken by Dustin's wide, toothy grin. "What d'ya say, Bobbie? Steve and Robin Henderson?"

"Would we get access to Claudia's lasagna recipe? Because if so, I'm behind this plan one hundred percent.”

"By 'we' you do mean me, right? Because I love you more than life, Bobs, but I'm not letting you anywhere near a casserole dish. I've learned that lesson."

"It was one time!"

"It took me three days to get all the cheese off the ceiling! There's still a stain!"

"Well good! Ceiling grease stains can be the Harrington's problem now, anyway. They deserve it!"

Argyle is nodding sagely from on top of the incredibly deflated bean bag he's sharing with Jonathan. "I do like Bucklington, it makes you sound like a fancy butler. But family is important, brochachos, and so is lasagna. I vote Henderson."

This spurs impassioned arguments from all corners, which Steve is more than happy to relax into the couch cushions and let wash over him.

There's a light, bubbly feeling in his chest. For the first time since his dad walked in unannounced yesterday, interrupting his phone call with Robin at the worst possible moment, the knot of fear and grief in his stomach starts to loosen.

Robin smiles at him, and he grins helplessly back. Who needs parents when he's got a soulmate? They're together, they're safe, they're surrounded by their family. Steve holds Dustin tighter to his side and lets himself feel loved.

He takes advantage of a lull in the Last Name Wars to get out the last of the speech he'd planned. "Anyway, we decided to tell all of you the truth when we came up with this plan last night, because we do trust you and we didn't want to lie to you, and also because we knew you shitheads would never shut up about us being in love if we didn't and that sounded awful."

He laughs delightedly at the chorus of indignant outbursts this gets him before continuing.

"It's really important that you don't tell anyone outside the Party the truth, alright? We're gonna tell Eddie when he gets back, and we might tell Joyce and Hop eventually, but that needs to be our choice to do. You can't do it for us, and you absolutely can't tell anyone else. The whole point of this is to keep us safe by keeping people from finding out the truth, okay?"

El looks vaguely uncomfortable, but not upset. "Will you tell my Dad soon?"

Steve glances at Robbie, who's looking anxious again, and then over at Will. His shoulders are tense, hunched up around his ears, and he's staring intently at the table in front of him.

Steve isn't sure if anyone else knows what he thinks he knows about Will, but he's pretty sure he recognizes the specific flavor of isolation he can see Will struggling with sometimes, and he's definitely sure he recognizes the looks Will shoots at Mike whenever Wheeler isn't looking. Tommy used to look at him like that.

Either way, he knows the kind of fear the kid must be suffering, just like he knows how terrifying today was for Robin. For Steve, the worst case scenario has already happened, so he has a lot less left to lose. He can afford to smooth the way a little, to test the waters and make sure they're safe for everyone else.

It's not that different from his normal role in this group anyway, just a different kind of monster. He's always been good at taking hits so the others don't have to-- this is just another threat to step in front of.

"Tell you what, Ellie, I'll talk to Hop and Joyce this weekend, that way you won't have to keep secrets from him for too long. I'll just tell him about me, though, at first, okay? That way we'll know if it's safe for Robbie." Or anyone else, he doesn't say.

Jonathan hears it, at the very least, and shoots him a look that's equal parts surprised and grateful. Maybe Will has someone else in his corner after all, then.

El nods happily, satisfied with that.

Before anyone else can jump in, there's a clattering on the basement stairs. None of them have time to tense up too badly before the door bursts open and Eddie comes tumbling through it in a flurry of dark curls and frayed denim.

"Fear not, my wayward wastrels, for I have returned from far off lands, bearing tidings and the promise of libations!"

Steve only recognizes, like, four of those words, but seeing Eddie gives him the same happy, fizzy feeling in his gut that it always does these days, so he grins.

"You're back early, Eds, everything ok?"

Eddie blinks at him, then around the room, looking surprised to see it so packed.

"Yeah, my cousin Clarence accidentally broke my MeeMaw's pasture fencing and set all the goats loose in the hills, and if we stuck around we were gonna have to help round them back up, so Wayne and I snuck out early. I was coming to invite the gremlins out for pizza to tell you all about it, but this is more people than I was expecting. Y'all having a family meeting? Without little old moi?"

Steve valiantly suppresses the shiver that the twang in Eddie's voice triggers. Steve's not sure if Eddie notices the way his accent gets stronger when he's been talking to family, but he's had to work very hard to make sure he doesn't notice the way it affects Steve.

Steve has barely tested the flirting waters with Eddie since admitting his crush to Robin, he's definitely not jumping right in with 'It makes me tingly all over when you start talking with a drawl, wanna call me darlin' and see what happens?'

Luckily Bobbie notices his inner struggle and comes to his rescue.

"It was kind of a time sensitive issue- not a life or death one! Or like. Not a monster one, anyway. But shit went down last night and we needed to brief everyone before the geek squad figured out something was funky and came beating down the door. Steve wanted to tell you in person so we were gonna wait til you got back, but here you are!"

Eddie's looking at Robin with an amused smile on his face, one eyebrow raised and his lips quirked in a lopsided grin that is, frankly, unreasonably attractive. "Here I am indeed, my fair Lady of Feathers. So what's the scoop?"

He plops down next to Jonathan and Argyle on the beanbags, nearly sending them all toppling before Argyle hooks both of them around the waists and drags them practically into his lap.

Steve is not seething with jealousy. He's not.

A half a dozen voices chime out all at once.

"Robin's gay!"

"Steve's homeless."

"Robin and Steve are getting married!"

“Purple married.”

“It’s lavender, dummy.”

“Lavender’s a kind of purple!”

"They're gonna be Hendersons!"

"No they aren't, weirdo, they're gonna be Buckleys."

"Bucklington is clearly the superior choice, even if Argyle was right about the butler thing."

“Bucklington my ass, y’all dumb as hell if you think Mom and Dad aren’t gonna try and make him a Sinclair after this.”

"Mama and Papa Harrington didn't like that Stevie boy has double the love to give. Totally bogus. Bi bros for life, man."

"I still call Steve's best man!"

Eddie blinks a little when everyone quiets down, looking vaguely shellshocked. "That was. A lot of information to get in thirty seconds."

And, listen, Steve is like, 97% sure Eddie's cool. More than cool, even. He moves that bandana to the same pocket every time he changes his jeans, no matter what outfit he's wearing. There's no way that's an accident. But if Steve is being totally honest, which he's trying to do more these days, at least inside his own brain, this is maybe not the way he'd have chosen to come out to his crush. It's somehow way more nerve-wracking when he didn't even get to say it himself.

Oh well, it's out there now. It's fine, probably.

Still, there’s a definite feeling of relief when Eddie turns that megawatt grin on him again.

"Man, I wish I'd known there were other queers in Hawkins, I might have listened sooner when Henderson told me how cool you guys were!"

Steve laughs, only a little hysterically. "Dude, if you thought you were the only one, what the hell have you been wearing that hanky for? Who are you hoping will see it?"

It's a little gratifying to see Eddie go flaming tomato red in seconds. "I am not talking about that in mixed company, Steven. There are children here!"

"Ugh, we're literally teenagers."

"Tiny baby infants! If you're so curious, you can ask me again later."

"Promise?" Steve can't stop himself from grinning wolfishly.

Eddie tugs his hair in front of his face to hide, and the frantic little giggle and the quiet "Oh my god," he lets out both sound more than a little strangled. Steve's having the time of his life right now.

"Gross." Ugh, rude. He glares at Robin for ruining his fun. She sticks her tongue out at him.

Before they can devolve into the inevitable slapfight, Nancy cuts in again.

"Alright, unless anyone else has anything to share in private, I think we should take Eddie's suggestion and get something to eat." Good thinking, Nance. "To celebrate the happy couple, of course," she adds with a smirk. Yeah, that makes more sense.

"Onward then, my noble companions, to pizza and to paradise!" Eddie vaults off the beanbag, sending Jonathan and Argyle tumbling. Argyle laughs and accepts Eddie's hand up, while Jonathan just rolls his eyes good-naturedly.

Eddie slings an arm around Robin's shoulders as they head for the basement door. "So, Birdie, what's this I hear about a wedding? I need context."

As the kids go thundering up the stairs, arguing about who gets to drive in which car, Steve lingers. He noticed Will hanging back from the others, and now they're the last ones left, Will still slowly packing up the pens and notebooks he seems to carry around with him everywhere. Jonathan is hovering anxiously in the doorway, so Steve sends him a nod and waves him off. He's got this.

"You ready to go, kid?"

Will fidgets with the zipper on his bag for another few seconds before looking up at Steve through his, frankly tragic, fringe. "I'm sorry your parents suck."

"Yeah, man, me too." Steve shoots him a wry little smile. "It's alright though, sometimes we're better off without them. I've got plenty of family here that love me, I'll survive without Richard and Diane."

Will studies him for a minute. Steve's not sure what he's looking for, but he hopes he finds it.

"That's what Jonathan says about Lonnie." Steve nods, trying not to wince at the memory of the things he spat at Jonathan that day in '83 when everything changed. "I used to think it was my fault he left, but Jonathan says he was just a bastard, and it's better he's gone anyway."

"I didn't know Lonnie," he's careful not to say your dad, "but from what I've heard, Jonathan's probably right. And he's definitely right that it's not your fault."

"Like it's not your fault your parents kicked you out?"

"Yeah, exactly like that. If it was my fault, that would mean I did something wrong. The only thing I did was exist, and be different than they thought I would be. If they can't love the kid they had, then they shouldn't have had a kid at all. That's their problem, not mine. There's nothing wrong with me."

It doesn't matter if he heard all of these things from Robin first, if he's still trying to learn to believe them. Will needs to hear them like they're true, the same way Steve does.

"Are you sure?" Will's voice is trembling now. He's looking at the floor, but Steve can tell there are tears coming. "How can you be sure this is how you're supposed to be? Wouldn't you rather be normal?"

Oh, kid. "I mean, yeah, maybe it would be easier if I only liked girls, but I don't. I tried for a long time to pretend that I did, but it didn't make it true. And yeah, part of me wants to hate myself, because that's what they taught me to think, and I still kinda wish doing that would make them love me, but it won't. But honestly, you wanna know the biggest thing?" Will nods.

"I can't hate that part of myself without hating Robin, and there's no universe where I could hate Robin. Robin's perfect. She's the best person in the world, and she's gay, so being gay can't be bad. It's impossible. So whenever that voice in my head starts saying shitty things to me, I just think about how much I love Robin and tell it to shut up."

There's a beat where Will seems to be absorbing this.

"How did you know it would be safe? To tell us the truth?"

"I didn't."

Will stares at him in shock.

"Not a hundred percent, anyway. I was pretty sure, but it's never a guarantee with stuff like this, you know? But the other option was never telling anyone, and that...it gets tiring, you know? Always having to hide. Always having to check yourself. Lying when people ask the wrong questions. It wears you down. And I've fought monsters with you guys. I've been tortured by spies with you guys. If I can't trust this group to have my back, I can't trust anyone, can I? And I didn't want to live a life of not trusting anyone. I didn't want Bobbie to live a life like that. So, we took a chance. And it paid off, because all of you are the people we thought you were, and we were right to trust you. But it was a leap of faith, dude. It always is."

"What if I'm not ready?" Fucking shit, this kid. He's been through more than any of them, except maybe El, and he's still so goddamn brave. Steve would have crumpled like a tin can in his place.

"Then you're not ready. It's not a test, Will. There's no right or wrong answers. But I will say that every single person out there loves you, and they'll keep loving you no matter what you do. They're not like my parents, or Lonnie. Our friends aren't broken inside the way they are. Their love isn't conditional. You won't chase them away. You couldn't if you tried."

Will lets out a shaky breath, clearly fighting back tears. Steve leans against the table and keeps his head down, offering the kid the illusion of privacy while he pulls himself together. After a few minutes he speaks up again.

"You ready to go, you think?"

Will nods. He goes to walk past Steve to the stairs before hesitating and, to Steve's surprise, wrapping his gangly arms around him in an awkward hug.

"Thanks, Steve," he mumbles into Steve's shoulder.

Steve runs a hand down his back uncertainly. "Anytime, kid."

He keeps his arm around Will's shoulders tentative, but when the kid doesn't shrug him off or move away, he lets it settle more firmly, tugging him closer.

“Come on Baby Byers, let's go get some pizza. You think I can milk the disownment thing to get Eddie to pay for extra toppings?"

Will snorts. "I think Eddie would pay for as many toppings as you want as long as you do that little eyelash thing at him again."

Steve throws his head back and laughs, long and loud from his belly. Yeah, it's gonna be a good night.

my head hurts too much to keep writing this but please know that the pizza parlor engagement party involves plenty of arguing about roles in the wedding party, resulting in MOH erica/best man dustin (scoops troop babeyy), flower girl team lumax (max demanded the role bc her wheelchair means she can carry extra baskets of petals, and lucas will be pushing the chair so her hands are free. he's just excited to be there.) nancy/el bridesmaids and byler groomsmen (mike grumbles and groans but he's secretly thrilled). jonathan does the pictures and it turns out argyle got ordained back in cali as a joke so he officiates. eddie plays crimson and clover for robin’s wedding march. there’s a bit of a kerfuffle when claudia and the sinclairs both try to claim steve as their son, but after someone makes the argument that charles and sue have two kids to carry their name while claudia only has one, they end up hyphenating and becoming the buckley-hendersons. yes, claudia cries. yes, they get the lasagna recipe.

(at the pizza place, eddie asks what his role will be and steve says he doesn't know yet, but he'll save him a dance regardless. eddie has to hide in the bathroom to stop blushing.)

[hauntedpearl]

thinking thoughts about things and such but I do wonder if cas had, say, an amnesia moment or whatever and dean did dean things which would include kidnapping him and keeping him in an underground bunker etc etc you understand. like if and when cas does come back to himself. i do wonder. if his freaky ass would be so into it that he'd jump dean's bones about this violation of human rights. i do wonder.

[fandomestuff]

SO WAS NO ONE GONNA TELL ME THAT LACKADAISY IS ON WEBTOON???

BRB I'M GONNA GO READ THE WHOLE THING NOW

[boyfridged]

in your fic “paint it over” is that how you imagine jason making it out of the explosion at the end of utrh? not exactly the events that follow, but the preferable characterization of bruce digging jay out of the rubble and carrying him to help. and how do you think jason made it out canonically (without the help of bruce) also!!! what are your thoughts on the specifics of jason’s scar and how he’d behave toward it. i liked the part of your fic where jason was temporarily unable to speak due to the trauma his neck received. i think the scar is something that rests on the junction of his shoulder/neck, and that can be hidden with whatever clothes he wears -> no one knows he has it (or how he got it) either. i like to imagine while bruce knows his batarang made contact with jason’s throat it’s never fully registered to him that it scarred until he sees it for himself (and while i believe bruce would turn the moment in head over and over again until it’s engraved in his brain, his delayed realization—to me—is due to his repression of the occurrence)

oh i adore this whole ask. some of it i explained in my notes, but this fanfic is quite dear to me, so i will elaborate.

short answer to whether this is how i imagine jay making it out of the explosion: not exactly?

the premise that i wanted to explore with paint it over is almost the opposite of a fix-it, and definitely not what i believe it should be in canon.

what i wished to explore there is, however, the part of utrh that is perhaps the most shocking to many readers: that bruce leaves jason to die.

in-universe, i think the answer why it happens is surprisingly simple enough: bruce does not come because he is just... not there. my understanding is, that in a way, the events of under the red hood did not happen. there is nothing to follow. that purple mist in the finale of the utrh, that is often read as a force resurrecting jason (not technically wrong, either)- i believe that is the timeline already rewriting itself, making the whole story into something that was not.

and the reason for the above is the infinite crisis. if i'm not wrong, it's also the inifinite crisis miniseries where bruce meets dick right after the explosions in (or of) bludhaven-- that in batman clearly happens in the background of his confrontation with jay. however, in infinite crisis (#4, just checked it now), bruce tells dick: "i wanted to make sure...you're alright... i was in new york when it hit. got here as soon as i could." which could be a lie or a matter of the editorial not being synced enough- but i'm willing to give them a benefit of the doubt given how it ties with that sudden, stunted ending of utrh.

this makes sense for canon for several reasons. in the animated movie, since it spares us the infinite crisis tie-in, bruce says of the whole incident: this changes nothing. it changes nothing because although aditf isn't, utrh is a tragedy; it changes nothing because since his death, jason is necessarily always pushed at the peripheries of the narrative, no matter how much the fate itself tries to fix it, becoming a tragic footnote. the dead have one right and it's the right to remain silent. and that is ironically ensured on a cosmic level, with his violent attempt at being seen hidden in the folds of the timeline. you can also see it clearly in canon -- i believe it was not until the infinite frontier that the events of utrh got just tangentially mentioned (before that, even lobdell barely touched upon it). other than that, they have no consequences; they are barely ever spoken of; they seem to slip out even from jay's solo comics.

this move was necessary for batman, as a character and as a title: let's say bruce does hold red hood as he does in the alt cover of annual 25 (and the cover of the deluxe edition of utrh.) that would implore a reckoning with his failure and his (suddenly non-productive) grief that would either reconstruct the whole myth or lead to some terrifying implications. these terrifying implications are, essentially, what paint it over is about. it's about the worst happening and about there being no way back from it. and jason, in receiving what he wanted (his father's love and care) wants to deny that reality. they both want to. yet even jay cannot ignore it completely -- and i chose to use the batarang injury to emphasize it.

and about the scar: i mentioned it briefly before, but in the au jason aggravates the wounds on purpose, hence it will scar worse and cause long-term issues for his voice. it's a theme i also keep in some of my other stories (to come...) and i very much think this is what would happen in canon if he had to take care of that injury. yet as it healed, i believe he'd take to hiding it, mostly. still, as it stands, my primary take might be that in canon (if it was to follow the interference into the timeline from the crisis at least) jason would simply end up with no scar at all, and only memories for evidence of what happened, which is perhaps worse for him too (but of course better for bruce. and as it happens, this is bruce wayne's story and everyone else is just living in it- or dies in it- for better or worse. and if we're ignoring that metaphysical timeline bullshit, as you said, i believe bruce would repress it all anyway.)

[buskingalbatross]

do any of you ever think about how you get to exist here on the planet with everyone and everything you love for a little while

do any of you ever feel happy and grateful that you are fortunate enough to live at the same time in the same world as everyone you love :/

[ruuari]

I collaborated with waywardriot for vanven week day 7! I drew this to accompany the final chapter of his wonderful fic, Two Ships in a Bottle

[meownotgood]

Can I ask what your ✨Aki journey✨ was like? I’m a Aki girlie but you clearly love Aki more than any blog I’ve ever seen (purrr) When did you start becoming interested in him? Was it an aHA moment or did it develop over time? I’m really curious!!! What inspired you to start this blog? I live, laugh, love backstories 🫶🏾❤️‍🔥

YES I would be so happy to answer this!!!!!!!

so before I read chainsaw man, I knew next to nothing about it, I wasn't really a manga reader in general to be honest but I started getting into it because I wanted to get caught up with jujutsu kaisen after finishing the anime. when I did, I really enjoyed jjk, I wanted to read more manga and a friend suggested I read chainsaw man because it's similar. I was like okay... a lot of people are into it... it looks cool... why not.

and when I started reading and I got to that third chapter and I saw aki... I literally said to myself: yeah, he is going to be my favorite. because he's exactly my type — the suit, the hair tied up so it's long and pretty when he takes it down, the SMOKING??? THE PIERCINGS????? I thought his hair was silly but adorable, his personality was stern but quirky and likable, his kon power was so cool. he was just so cute and hot and definitely my type of character.

but really, even though aki was always my favorite character from the start, my obsession truly began when I finished the manga. aki's arc is just so good... I fell in love with him the whole way through but especially after the manga was over... I loved watching him grow as a character, he just feels so real and relatable personality wise and story wise. he's immensely flawed but kindhearted to his core. he's so human. I love how he's emotional and soft and the conclusion to his arc is genuinely my favorite thing in any piece of media ever, it's so bittersweet and compelling. (and I'm a mess for that bittersweet shit okay)

anyway after I read chainsaw man for the first time I was feeling a mix of emotions between "wow that was the greatest thing ever" and "what the fuck did I just read" but more than anything I yearned for more aki, and so I read it a second time almost immediately after, and then the aki brain infection just grew worse and worse.... was screenshotting every panel of him... I read it a third time... a fourth time in the colored version to collect more panels......... I started my blog over a year ago to post fanfic and rant about aki and the rest is history

[dragon-tamer-1]

I'm bout to go to sleep, but just want to say that I'm just very happy to have people be that sweet to me earlier today. @bluepallilworld, @eve416, and @shinechermont, you're all just some of the sweetest people I've ever met on here, and I'm glad to have you as friends.

[painless-innit-colourful]

The End of Everything

(8k words, tw for graphic violence, blood, gore and suicidal ideation (not really but it’s best to be safe), read it below or on my ao3)

The last thing Tommy hears before his final death is his best friend screaming his name.

The first thing Tommy feels as he comes back to consciousness is Tubbo’s hand on the back of his neck.

---

After the end of the world, Tommy, Tubbo, Jack, Dream and Punz wake up in a place that no longer exists, teetering on the edge of oblivion. DreamXD offers one last game.

(Or, Tommy is tired of not being dead yet, Tubbo is trying to get him to play, Jack has his last grievances to settle, Dream and Punz are bastards and DreamXD has a few tricks up his sleeve. Fix-it fic for the DSMP Vol. 1 finale.)

Yes, this was that one I wrote in 24 hours on Sunday night/Monday morning. Full fic below :))

The last thing Tommy hears before his final death is his best friend screaming his name.

From the hole in the wall they burst, Jack and Tubbo, haloed in fire. Tommy turns his head as he hears Tubbo scream his name one last time, throwing himself across the gap, arms unfurled. He goes to reach for him, scream Tubbo’s name back, but the word never reaches his lips in time and his arms never get there as the white rushes in all around like the arrival of a blizzard. Tears form in his eyes that are vapourised instantly, along with the rest of him, as the bright light envelops them all. Then there’s nothing.

Then, there’s nothing.                

Tubbo said it would be like TV static. Sudden, painless. For a second he feels very, very hot. He stretches his arm out just the tiniest bit more, no reason, just momentum, and feels parts of him colliding with other parts of him no longer connected to him. In the space of a few seconds, where there once was a boy, there is nothing. Every cell eviscerated. Memories housed in burnt neurons firing into nothingness soon fade with the body. The whiteness is so bright and so hot, but not uncomfortable. He was told it wouldn’t be uncomfortable.

Told what wouldn’t be uncomfortable? By who?

There’s just nothing. There is no one. He is no one. The body could regenerate, the mind be made anew. An interesting prospect. A novel idea. Refit the world, retell the story. Again. Again. Again.

No.

The first thing Tommy feels as he comes back to consciousness is Tubbo’s hand on the back of his neck.

Without opening his eyes, he knows it’s Tubbo because of the scars. They’re a little softer than his normal skin: always have been. He knows them too, each dip and wrinkle. He could map them out like land if that wasn’t a really weird thing to do. Tubbo’s hand, with its soft scars, cradles the back of his head. He’s got an arm around him, holding him steady, turning his body into Tubbo’s, whose knees are under Tommy’s back. His limbs sprawl out on rough, cobblestone ground, legs aching, one arm a tad warm from proximity to lava. Uncomfortably so. He pulls it to his chest, whimpering.

Tubbo said it wouldn’t hurt.

“Took him long enough.” “Bit of a wimp if you ask me.”

Voices, familiar voices, voices it hurts to try and place. Tommy focuses on not moving, not listening, barely breathing. He’s dead. He should be dead. He cracks an eye and sees Dream, Punz and Jack’s legs standing facing him. He closes the eye again.

“Seriously, why was he out so long?” The voice that responds cannot be placed either, but that’s not Tommy’s fault. It crackles with pure energy, booms with power. "Proximity to death. Limbo gets its wires crossed. It becomes harder sometimes to get back. You remember?"

“Up, c’mon,” Tubbo whispers to him over the others conversing with whatever otherworldly being is in the room, pulling him into an upright position. “Tubbo-” Tommy goes to tell him to stop, then throws his shaking arms around him instead, ignoring the way his insides feel like they’re sloshing around within him like liquid jelly in a mould. Tubbo hugs back, smelling overwhelmingly like smoke. Who cares, they’re dead anyway. Unless-

“Are we dead?” Tommy asks, reluctantly pulling back.  Tubbo sighs. “Yes. Yes, we are. The nuke-” “Don’t care. If we’re dead-” He turns his head and flinches violently back into Tubbo with a small shout.  Tubbo sighs again. “Tommy, meet DreamXD. And, yes, he’s a god.”

The swirling white robes actually flow as if upon some ethereal wind despite the fact they are very indoors. His (his? his) head is heralded with a floating broken crown of gold, continually circling the mask-ball head. The resemblance to Dream is uncanny - must be why the man looks so thrilled - and puts Tommy right on edge. “Come on,” Tubbo whispers again, putting his arms under Tommy’s shoulders and standing. “The liquidy-feeling stops after a minute or so of being upright.”

As they get to their feet, DreamXD waves his hands and the light from the lava inexplicably dims. As he speaks, all five maybe-mortals draw into a circle around him: Tommy feels, not for the first time, like a puppet being manhandled into place.

“Finally, Tommy. I was getting anxious that you really wouldn’t come back to us. I needed the fifth player for my game, I’d hate to have to go get someone else.” “No thanks,” Tommy’s nervous laugh just escapes from his rapidly constricting throat. Everyone stares at him. “I don’t want to play anymore games.” “Tommy-” But DreamXD cuts over Tubbo’s plea and Dream’s taunt.

“Are you sure you would want to give up on this unique opportunity? It’s not going to be that painful, dear.” “Tommy, just hold on a minute,” Tubbo’s eyes lock with his, almost unnaturally. “Let him explain.” “I don’t want to be played with anymore, Tubbo,” Desperation bleeds into his tone as he tries to reach for Tubbo and finds he can’t move, which only makes the constricted feeling worse. His shoulders fall, “I’d rather just- die, and be dead.” “Tommy-” Tubbo is silenced by DreamXD again, so he gives Tommy a sad half-smile, and pleads with his eyes. Tommy blinks back unshed tears and turns obediently to look at the god.

“Thank you. I will explain this once, and only once, so make no misconstrutions of my words.” He raises one hand with a flourish, and returns it holding a book. Light emanates from the pages and in his other hand he holds a quill with an exuberant feather. “Some call me a God of Death,” He smiles unnervingly with a tilt of his head, “They’d be wrong. Some prefer God of Life. Closer, but still no.” The arm holding the book multiplies, and soon there are five arms holding books in a circle and a further five hands holding quills descending on the pages to write furiously. The god’s voice reverberates with a sound like thunder. “I am the God of Wishes. And Dreams. And Protector of the End, Master of Hauntings, Merchant of Souls, Purveyor of Stories, blah, blah, blah. But foremost, I am the God of Wishes.” His smile stretches uncannily. The other members of the circle seem unreassuringly less creeped out by his many titles as he clasps two more of his hands.

“Today was a bad day, wasn’t it? All those lives, snuffed out like candle flames, all those stories left so unfinished, so unsatisfying!” He practically squeals with joy. “Awh! Here is my game: I give you my tome and my quill and you write your wish. And then, if you pass my test, I grant your wish before sending you off to your afterlife. I know, how generous. Graciously giving you the chance to tie up a loose end before you depart this life. Because, despite my best efforts, someone-” The mask-ball head and its golden satellites wheel on Dream, who is doing his best to appear casual. “-managed to drop the thread. But it doesn’t matter! Because you’re here now, and you’re going to play, RIGHT?”

Despite not having eyes, the cross-shape on his head is definitely looking at Tommy, who shrinks back in very sensible, mortal fear. “What’s the test?” He asks in a voice so small. DreamXD cocks his head gradually all the way to one side, “It’s a surprise!”

Tommy nods before he can find out how that voice became so deranged. Tubbo’s fingers interlace with his as he tries to remain calm. This isn’t fair. He should be dead. He always knew living was hard, but it turns out dying can be a bitch as well. Tubbo puts a hand on his arm and squeezes gently. “Breathe, Tom.” “What’s the fucking point in that, we’re dead aren’t we?”

“Oh,” The god swirls his robes in a cheery circle as he addresses the whole group again. “And it can’t be, ‘Bring me back to liiife!’ That’s just rude.”

The swirling mass of arms becomes but two, and DreamXD offers the book first to Jack. He takes the book and the quill with steady hands that Tommy certainly doesn’t possess, thinks for a moment, then writes his wish with deliberate strokes of the pen, almost smiling as he does. As he lifts the quill from the page, it slithers away with a small cracking sound to the next blank canvas. Jack shrugs and passes the book to Punz as indicated. They take it forcefully from him, all but snatching the pen, sharing a look with Dream, then scribbling down their wish. The page flips, they pass it to Dream, and he also writes down his wish at speed, like they had prepared a contingency plan for this exact situation. Dream passes it to Tubbo, almost dropping it, and Tubbo repeats the ritual, writing his wish with surety, only biting his lip a little as he puts the ink on the page. Finally, he passes the book to Tommy, meeting his eye and giving him an encouraging nod.

Only, when the book is in Tommy’s hands, he doesn’t know what to do. He’d tried to anticipate the others’ - Dream and Punz will no doubt be trying to get back alive, Jack, fuck, Tommy barely knows Jack anymore, maybe he’ll wish for some hair, Tubbo, probably something sweet about Michael? - and now he has no idea what to write for himself. What he wants. Well, he wants a lot of things, but he’ll never get any of them. He wants to get pastries from Niki’s Bakery with Wilbur again. He wants to listen to his discs and hold them tight against his chest. He wants to be fifteen once more, sitting on the banks of the river outside L’Manberg next to Tubbo, drying their clothes in the August sun beating down on them after they went for an unplanned swim. But he’s here, in a body long dissolved, in a building that no longer exists, with the memory of the white-out of the end of the world seared into his mind. He has no hope of receiving what he wants. Needs. Prayed for night after night, wished and hoped and longed for.

Well, it’s worth a shot.

Tommy writes his wish and the book slams shut in his hands with a noise like a sudden intake of breath. He holds aloft to DreamXD the tome with trembling arm and it is taken by their perhaps-benevolent, perhaps-sadistic present deity, who immediately begins rifling through the pages. He reads and reads and glances up at Tubbo and shrugs and goes back to reading and chuckles at one page and then stops at the last.

“No, no, this won’t work. Tommy, I need another one.” “Wha- Whatt- I, I- I don’t have-” “It’s too vague and too big, I need another one. Gods, did no one tell you to manage your expectations?”

Before Tommy can take the book back, Jack peers through the god’s shoulder at the book. “I- Oh. Oh, that’s-” “Let’s see this,” Punz snatches the book from the god, who only seems to step back and allow it as Tommy chases after it, making his protests painfully clear. Punz grabs his wrist and holds him at arm’s length while sharing the contents of the page with Dream, and soon enough the laughter is coming thick. “Oh, oh, that’s too good.” “Agreed. And I thought the coming to fight us earlier was ridiculous, but this is just pathetic.”

Tommy wrestles his hand out of Punz’s grip, “You bastards, give me that.” “Hey Tubbo,” Dream holds the book out to Tubbo with the arm furthest from Tommy. “Read this.”

Tubbo takes it and closes the book. “You’re both fucking awful. We’re dead, about to go to limbo, and you’re both acting like fucking clowns.” The two of them laugh like a pair of high school bullies, Punz straightening up first, “Apologies, Tubbo, but killing us all doesn’t give you a leg up in this.” “Hey, excuse me, it was me, that killed us all, okay?” Jack crosses his arms. “Just so you know.” “Fine, whatever, I don’t care,” Dream adjusts his mask with one hand. “The point is, fuck all of you, but especially Tommy. We had the mercy to let him go after killing Tubbo, which, hey! Apparently that wasn’t true, and then he comes back and talks me into believing we can make the server better before we all get blown to smithereens. That’s the meaning of awful. He deserves to feel like shit for this.”

“Whatever,” Interrupts the god. Tubbo hands Tommy the book back, the quill that never left his hand gripped tight like it was known all along he wouldn’t be allowed what he wanted. He had known. Fucking awful world. He thought he’d be off it by now.

He puts the tip of the quill against the page and watches as ink flows out of the nib, blotting the sheet with a small, black lake. A tear hits the page, diluting the inky water and forming a small river in his topographical map of failures, and he sinks to his knees, cracking the quill in his fist, wanting nothing more than to curl up and die as the jeers resound around the room.

“Tommy-” “I haven’t GOT another!” It’s useless, it always is. “I don’t know! I’m tired, I can’t- Make up a wish for me, please-” Tommy holds the book out towards Tubbo, until the leather binding slips from his fingers and hits the floor with a dull thud. Dutifully, his best friend kneels, retrieves the book from the floor and the quill from Tommy’s fingers. Ink leaks from further up the feather than it should, bleeding endlessly, marking their fingers with similar jet-black stains. He puts the feather between his teeth and opens the book to the correct page, and Tommy watches as the feather falls from his mouth as he looks slowly and sadly back at him. He then simply stands, walks across the floor and returns the book to DreamXD.

“I don’t see any problem with it.” “Are you serious.” “I see no issue with it. No reason why you shouldn’t be able to grant it. Unless you’re not as powerful as you pretend to be.”

This seems to have made DreamXD ticked off, which Tommy would calculate was probably a poor move on Tubbo’s part. “Would you give up your own wish for it?” Tubbo’s hands, playing with a loose thread on his sleeve, still. “It’s okay,” Tommy says hastily. “I don’t need it.” “Tommy, that’s not-” “That’s pretty shit, man,” Jack says. “Tubbo doesn’t need your approval for that. He can have his own damn wish without spending it on you.”

Tommy’s shoulders drop again and he shuts his eyes. He’s vaguely aware of Tubbo chewing out Jack, but he has no energy left to care. He hadn’t been expecting to make it through the day, for obvious reasons. He did not save anything for after the nuke fell. That was supposed to be it.

‘Very depressing train of thought tonight.’ Tommy, startled by the booming voice now inside his mind tries to cry out, but finds the sound never comes. ‘Don’t do that. Do you want to get bullied more than you already are?’ He squirms in place, unable to speak, unwilling to move, scared and tired and waiting for it all to be over. ‘Just think, idiot. I can hear you.’ ‘Why are you doing this please stop please stop I thought I’d get to be done by now but I don’t want to be used anymore. Please.’ ‘Are you done yet.’ ‘Please I’m so tired I just want it all to stop please.’ ‘Do you really want to just die?’

With two years of exhaustion radiating outwards, Tommy goes to think-speak ‘Yes’, and then doesn’t. Maybe if he doesn’t say anything, DreamXD will understand how wearied he is. ‘You’re a total downer. I mean, “I wish to be happy for a bit” is not the most outlandish request I’ve had, I was just expecting something a bit more…’ ‘Selfless?’ The god looks away from Dream and Punz. ‘...Elaborate.’

He hangs his head in shame, ‘I should wish for someone else. That’s the good thing to do, isn’t it? But, I- I want something for myself. For once. Something guaranteed. Something actually good, and not fake and breakable and-’ ‘I’m starting to remember why I don’t like talking to mortals.’ ‘Sorry. Can you bring Tubbo back? He has a son. Michael should grow up with a dad.’

The god makes no reply, and when Tommy lifts his head, he is met with that unnatural smile. ‘Sorry. Missed your chance to amend your wish.’

“Okay, here’s how this is going to go.” Sporting a gormless expression, Tommy is suddenly encumbered much, much more than his previous eerily-weightless feeling. Armour digs into the backs of his knees and shoulder blades, in some places clipping into the floor where he’s kneeling. The weight of a sword and shield materialises at his side. Netherite. Oh, joy.

“A simple contest,” The god swirls through the air, robes flowing around him as he spreads the ordinary amount of human arms across what again becomes a battlefield. “I’m sure you’re all familiar by now. Tommy and Tubbo against Punz and Dream,” DreamXD allows an interlude for Dream and Punz to howl with laughter. Tommy lifts his eyes to meet Tubbo’s and the latter comes over to help him up, armour scraping against the cobble floor. They conduct a silent conversation with three looks and a pair of tentative smiles, and Tubbo curls his fingers around Tommy’s. Looks like it’s me and you again, one final time.

“Jack may join whichever side he likes. If Tommy and Tubbo win, Tommy gets his wish.” Dream wheezes like a sick dog. “If Dream and Punz win… they get their wishes.” The delighted expressions on the two and a half formerly-laughing faces instantaneously drop. “What? What about Tubbo and Jack’s? Why do we have to fight for ours?” The masked man walks straight up to stand directly in front of the god, a bold show of defiance. One smiling facade glares back at another and the god replies with meticulous articulation.

“You have to fight for yours because I say so. And I like Jack and Tubbo’s better. Theirs are cute. More… whimsy.” The side eye that the god gives Dream as he swoops out of the way could slice the man in half. “Besides, I thought you’d like this game.” “Dream, he’s right. We know we’re gonna win this.” Punz sweeps their axe over their shoulder as they stare Tommy and Tubbo down. “We’ve only won this battle… What, twice already this week?”

When Dream doesn’t reply, Tommy realises he’s staring at Jack. “What?” “Nothing.”

“Take up your arms, fighters!” The two best friends drop each other’s hands to pick up a sword and a shield respectively. DreamXD twirls up to the ceiling of the chamber and back down again, gleefully perching on the roof of the cell. “And don’t worry. It’ll probably hurt, but it’s not like you can die twice! Not like this anyway.” “Hey,” Tubbo quietly calls Tommy’s eyes to meet his. “It’s been an honour.” He replies with a smile that doesn’t reach those eyes, repeating a false refrain sung too often, “To the ends of the earth.” “To the end of everything.” Tubbo earnestly amends.

The first crossbow bolt flies in the small space between them, and they abandon their moment, surging forward as a pair. Tommy clashes blades with Dream as Tubbo takes Punz to task with his axe. Dream presses their swords towards him so Tommy ducks back, swinging beneath and slashing a shallow wound in Dream’s right leg as Dream brings his sword down directly in the middle of Tommy’s shoulder plating, bouncing harmlessly off. Tommy ducks, Dream rushes forward, chasing him across the floor, agility versus pure power.  

Punz calls Dream’s name across the room: Tommy jumps onto a small pillar in time to see them kick Tubbo’s shield across the floor and into the lava as the younger advances, axe raised, pinning Punz against the outer wall of the main cell with Jack reloading a crossbow to their immediate left. Dream also turns to look, scowls, and Tommy makes the split-second decision to jump. 

The clatter of armour against armour sends a shockwave through his bones as they both go to ground. Dream drops his weapons and grabs the back of Tommy’s leg hard, pinching and pulling so violently the strap on his armour snaps and the plates protecting his upper leg come away in Dream’s hand. Across the room, Jack cries out, Tubbo shouts something to him, Punz whoops: Tommy discerns none of these over the sound of his shield smashing repeatedly into the side of Dream’s head. The hardened porcelain-like material of the mask protecting his face shatters after the fourth hit, but Tommy doesn’t stop until Dream throws him off and stands over him, placing a foot on the wrist of his sword hand. 

He leers over Tommy, blood dripping intermittently from the gaping wound on the side of his head just above the left eye, gore coating the edge of Tommy’s shield. He feels nothing, not even as Dream raises his foot and slams it full-force into the centre of Tommy’s chestplate, instantly bruising skin with the first impact, breaking ribs with the second. He wonders if this numbness is due to the fact they’re already dead - small mercies - or perhaps he’s just incapable of feeling the pain anymore. Reached capacity. No more room for it.

“You doomed all of us,” Dream rasps, face slick with blood, kneeling on Tommy’s chest that protests with the weight. “All of that talk about getting a simple life back, working together, that was all just talk, wasn’t it?” Across the room, Jack fights a losing battle against Punz while Tubbo struggles to find a gap in the action that’ll allow him to shoot foe and not friend. “That’s sick. You were just waiting for the slaughter. Well done. Well fucking done, Tommy.” He sweeps hair out his eyes, looking every bit the crazed maniac Tommy remembers beating him to death only metres away, frolicking on the grid above L’Manberg, laughing as Wilbur pressed the button.

I meant it, he wants to say. We could’ve gotten out alive, if only I’d known before, if only my own plan hadn’t already doomed us.

You’re right, he also wants to say. It was all a set-up. I hate you. If you didn’t continually antagonise and torment me and try to control me we wouldn’t be in this position at all. I hope we win. You don’t deserve your wish.

(But I deserve mine.)

Instead of speaking, he rolls, ignoring the way his chest feels like a box of child’s bricks; pieces loosely jangling together, swirling in their container. He comes up on one knee before Dream knocks him down again with another well-placed kick to the chest, so this time he reaches for Dream’s discarded crossbow and fires the loaded bolt. Dream dodges but it’s enough to give Tommy the time to put his feet back beneath him and take off running, firing another bolt in Dream’s general direction. Preferring his talents as a kamikaze homing missile to his swordplay, Tommy rams into Punz at full tilt, knocking them away from Jack and into the shallow lava. 

“Behind you!” Tubbo’s warning comes just in time for Tommy to see Dream before he clobbers him with his shield, wielding it like a two by four. Tommy crumples like a paper bag just as a crossbow bolt whizzes over his head and strikes Dream satisfyingly in the shoulder. Tubbo cheers. Jack swings his axe in Dream’s direction just as Tommy scrambles to his feet, just as Tubbo turns his crossbow on the figure of Punz pulling themself out of the lava, looking burnt and pissed as the glowing magma rolls off their shimmering armour. Suddenly, Jack starts shouting right in Tommy’s ear, and it’s not doing anything for his ears.

“What’s wrong with you, man?” “What’s- What?”

Tommy barely parries a strike from Punz’s axe, scrabbling for his shield, not understanding why Jack is choosing now to do this. “What do you mean, what’s wrong with me? What are you-” Tommy barely gets his shield between his face and Punz’s axe as the netherite bites through the wood. Across the room, Tubbo cries out and Tommy wants to go but can’t, and now bloody hell-

“You’re always poking into other people’s business, putting your nose where it doesn’t belong. We can fight our own battles, y’know!” Tommy does his best to convey his indignance to Jack while engaging in Punz’s standoff, “This is my business, we’re on the same side!” “We haven’t been on the same side in a very long time, Tommy.” Tommy redirects his momentary flash of anger and confusion into throwing Punz off and turning to see Tubbo very ineffectively hacking at the arm Dream has gripped around his shield hand. He twists Tubbo’s arm with brutal force and the resultant scream feels like a knife to the chest.

“What do you mean?” “I mean I hate you, you killed me and I’m only doing this for Tu-” Punz’s next strike sends Jack stumbling back towards the edge of the cobblestone platform. Without hesitation Tommy drops his sword and throws out an arm to grab Jack’s, pulling him back. “I can fight my own fucking battles man-” They both stagger back onto the platform with the momentum and Jack colldies with Punz. “You drag everyone else into your messes, you’re selfish and you don’t care-” Punz stamps on the side of Tommy’s discarded sword and catches, turns and stabs it towards Jack with one swift movement. Tommy shoves him aside and feels the sword pierce his stomach through the gap where his missing leg armour should protect the bottom of his torso.

Pain isn’t the correct word for it, but the feeling of a foreign body intruding where it isn’t welcome sobers him right up. Jack stands, weapons sinking, looking rather gobsmacked, as Punz rips the sword out and Tommy sways on unstable feet that suddenly become crossed beneath him as he sits down hard. A mock round of applause given by one fills the quiet air, and Tommy looks through his warped vision as Dream drops his hands and drags Tubbo across the floor by the shoulder to throw him next to Tommy and Jack. Their shoulders clash in a way that makes breathing difficult for Tommy for a moment, though he’s pretty sure Tubbo has it worse: fucking drenched in crimson with no clear point of exit, audibly wheezing, holding his shoulder in position. All three of them look like shit compared to Dream and Punz with their moderate burns and single impressive head injury.

There is a clear winner in this contest. But then, there was always going to be a clear winner.

“Jack,” Tommy whispers. “I dunno what I did, but- I’m sorry, man. I- I’m sorry.” “It’s fine.”

“Fighters!” The god’s voice crashes over them with thunderous aplomb. “I have decided the winners of the game.” He floats down from on high, hands glowing with golden light as the book and quill return. “Allow me, victors, to grant your wishes.” The gaping smile broadens in a way that makes Tommy sincerely wish he wasn’t at this god’s mercy. He hopes his limbo will be nice at least. Nice enough to spend the rest of eternity in.

With a flurry of turning pages and a flicker of golden light, the book opens in his hands and he begins to write. Gleefully, he glances back at Dream and Punz. “Remind me, my conquerors, of your wishes?” The two look at each other, as if to question the god. Punz starts, “Well I wished for Dream to be brought back.” “And I wished for Punz’s life to be restored.”

The reality of it hits like Tommy like an anvil to the head. They lose. They’ve died. He’s killed them, for nothing. The world is doomed, if it isn’t gone already. It’s over. They’ve lost. And it’s all his fault.

“Jack, what did you wish for?” His expression is hard as he turns it on the god, “I wished that people would know this was me. That I changed the world today. I left my fucking mark on this world.” “Your wish is granted. A girl sneaking around Snowchester overheard your arguments and spread the word. You are heralded as an angel of destruction, harbinger of the end of the world.” From the way his countenance softens, Tommy thinks he might be satisfied. “Tubbo? Your wish?”

His best friend looks devastated. He’s almost glad he couldn’t change his wish: he’s not sure sending him back to be Dream and Punz’s new toy would be preferable. Or perhaps it’ll be him again: who knows! Death is not the end until the gods decide they’re done with you. Tommy catches DreamXD observing him curiously again and wants to tell him to stop, but he ignores the feeling that the god can hear what he’s thinking and takes Tubbo’s hand in his, squeezing. “I’m so sorry.” Tubbo meets his eyes and gives him a small shake of his head. There is nothing he can think to say to make this better.

“I wished that my son would grow up safe and happy.” Knew it. DreamXD’s expression tempers, “Your son will live a long and happy life far from here. He slept through the explosions and is far, far from the danger zone. He is with Technoblade right now, and he will look after your boy.” Tubbo looks relieved, “Thank god, thank god for Techno. Thank you.” A rush of golden light surrounds him, settling on his skin like a cloud of friendly butterflies. With a pop and a grunt, his shoulder is no longer dislocated. The blood wipes away with the remnants of the golden light. With quiet gratitude, Tubbo raises his arms, looking at skin stitching itself back together and bows his head to DreamXD. The god looks at Jack, cocks his head and sighs, “I suppose you as well.”

The same golden light envelops him like silk drapes wrapping themselves around a figure in a burst of wind, and his scrapes and slashes are gone. DreamXD turns on Tommy, “Now, your wish.”

“I thought you’re not granting my wish.” “Come on, man,” Jack nudges him gently with his foot. “When the gods offer you something, you don’t ask why it was offered.” “Hold on, hold on,” Dream approaches, Punz shortly behind him, looking irate. “I thought it was his wish or ours.” “It is!” Chirps the god. “His wish is pretty vast - funny how that works - so I could do both of yours or… only his.” “So you’re not doing his..?”

The laughter starts small, a childish giggle, spectral hand to mouth, that then grows - a full-body laugh, a howl, a roar of amusement. Golden light bursts like lightning in a bottle outward as he cackles, and one of the bolts hits Tommy, sealing the hole in his side, reinflating his chest, soothing the anxiety bubbling in his stomach. “I don’t see what’s so funny, we played your game, we won the right to our wishes-” DreamXD claps his hands together like an elated child and a shockwave sends Dream toppling head over foot.

“You false fucking godhead! You think you’re powerful, you wait ‘till-” “Don’t try to threaten me,” Tommy flinches back despite the god facing the other direction as his voice fills every inch of air with static electricity. The god’s voice changes, echoing as if they’re in a vast cavern, booming with power and taking on a new, discordant deepness. Dream momentarily does the same, and Punz’s face betrays genuine fear. “I am DreamXD, God of Wishes and Dreams, Protector of the End, Master of Hauntings, Merchant of Souls and Purveyor of Stories. Let me explain this to you in a way your tiny minds might be able to understand.” Tongues of fire crackle and flicker from the god’s hands as he cracks them against the floor. “You think you deserve the answers to all of life’s great questions. You think you deserve immortality. You call yourselves Gods, but you are incomparable to my power. I could write you out of existence with a flick of my quill… but I won’t. Much better to have two new fascinating playthings!”

Abject horror crosses Dream’s face, “What the hell? No! We won the battle!” “Yes, you did, didn’t you? Again. How boring. It’s not a very satisfying ending, is it? They all die in the nuclear blast, but I think it’s better than sending you two back to continue the very same plot threads that put us here to begin with.” “We’ll do better this time!” “Put your ear to the world and listen, Dream. No one wants there to be a ‘this time’. Could you hear it? In the leaves on the trees, the critters of the earth. Particles of soot and magic in the air, words on shimmering pages, the whispers between unseen witnesses. None of them want you back. They seek different endings. You, ALL OF YOU-” The three nearly-kids on the floor cower as he sweeps over them, golden pieces of crown spinning at incredible speeds, lightning bouncing around the room. “-made such a huge mess of it, I had to step in and put things right! You’re not getting another chance, Dream! I gave you power over death, and instead you bent to its will and carved a never-ending, bloody trail. YOU MAKE YOURSELVES IN THE IMAGE OF GODS, THIS IS WHAT YOU GET!”

With a sound as loud as the nuke blast, the room fills with light the colour of burnished brass and a prickly heat. Somewhere in the cacophony, Tommy hears screaming. A too-familiar voice yelling out his name one last time. He clamps his hands over his ears and scrunches his eyes shut. He feels Tubbo gather him in his arms, pulling his head under his chin, blocking out the second apocalypse of the past few hours.

Then, eventually, there’s nothing.

When Tommy opens his eyes, the room is still. Jack crouches behind him, gazing over him at the god floating a few feet off the ground, one leg crossed upright against the other, leaning the book against the side of his knee as he scribbles and chews on the end of the feather. Tubbo still has him cradled to his chest, turning his head every ten seconds or so, keeping lookout, perhaps. One of his hands is repeatedly stroking Tommy’s cheek with the back of two fingers. It’s nice. Peaceful. The one problem is that the staticky sound in his ears has reappeared, but apart from that, this is okay, lying here. He’d be quite happy to stay here forever.

Then the god looks up from what he’s writing, his voice back to normal. “Is he awake yet?” Tommy groans and presses his face into Tubbo’s collarbone, and his best friend just laughs. “I don’t know, maybe you should ask again.”

“He is a bit pathetic, really.” “Is it done yet?” DreamXD shoots Jack an irritated look. “Is it done yet? Gods, I hate working with mortals. You’re all so puny and annoying and simple-minded,” He pauses, smiles. “But I prefer you that way.” Tommy groans, “Is what done yet?”

As Tommy sits up, jimmied along by Tubbo’s gentle murmurs, the god lands lightly on the floor, standing over them like a schoolteacher. “You shall all get your wishes-” He glances behind him, where a crimson stain on the cobblestones speaks for itself. His voice drops an octave again, deep and starkly warning, “But cross me, and you will not want to live to tell the tale.” No one says anything to that, so he continues, back to the light, merry deity Tommy still isn’t sure what to make of. “Jack, the notoriety of your deed will secure you a place in every history book here forevermore. Tubbo, your son will grow into a fine young man, after a childhood that was safe, happy and free. And Tommy…”

The god cuts off, says nothing more. Tommy looks between Tubbo and Jack, confused, still a little groggy from the second round of loud noise and bright lights, catching smiles on their faces. “What? Why are you looking at me like that? What is it?” Their faces seem brighter, holy light shining from their eyes. Tubbo laughs and Tommy decides that’s his favourite sound, “Look at your hands, big man.”

He looks down and shrieks. Tubbo and Jack erupt into peals of laughter, and Tommy isn’t sure whether he should be scared or thrilled. His hands are turning into that familiar golden light, melting into glowing patches that disconnect from his being and float upwards.

“WHAT’S HAPPENING TO ME?” “I guess you won, boss man.” Tubbo’s grin fills him with a warm feeling that makes him feel weightless, or maybe that’s the turning to light and drifting away thing. “Tell Michael I love him, yeah?” “Wait, I’m-” He looks at his hands glowing golden, the weightless feeling, Tubbo’s knowing smile. “I’m- I’m not… I’m going back?”

“Gods, took you long enough. Yeah, why not. Don’t fuck it all up this time.” “I’ll- I’ll do my best… I mean, it also wasn’t really my fault, if Dream hadn’t- Y’know what, yeah, n-nevermind. I’ll make sure it doesn’t go badly this time.” He laughs at the disgruntled face of the god apparently giving him his life back. “Maybe don’t give power-hungry maniacs the power over death this time? Maybe don’t give anyone that power, actually.” “Are you telling a God how to do his job?” “Consider it free advice?”

A laugh breaks free from his chest, rising him higher from the ground. He floats up out of Tubbo’s arms, feeling his fingers trace every scar as they leave his sides. No way. The god appears to be consulting a map, clicking his divine tongue, “Right, where can I… Prison is gone, house obliterated, L’Manberg blown away, ah shit there goes the Community House again, wow, it’s a good job that evacuation alert went out so quickly-”

Tommy looks down at his friends, at Tubbo’s beaming smile and Jack’s grimace. “Tubbo?” “Yeah?” Tommy beckons to him and Tubbo stands, reaching his hand up to hold whatever of Tommy’s isn’t yet golden light.

“Is this it?” Tubbo shrugs, smiling sadly, “I guess so. I guess this is it. But I’m fine with that.” “I- T- Tubbo-” “This morning, this bloody morning-” Tubbo shakes his arm. “You made me contend with the same reality, okay? So don’t give me any bullshit. You go back there, and you take care of my son, and you live your life, yeah? Mourn me for a few months or whatever it was- Dream’s gone now! You can be happy! You will be! You don’t have a choice!”

It makes him laugh. Tubbo was always, is always so good at making him see the good side of things, drawing out his smile, making him laugh until his stomach aches.

“How am I supposed to do that without you?” “It doesn’t matter. You’ll make other best friends, new countries, new memories, you’ll move on from me, I-” “I could never forget you. Never.” “Well I didn’t say that.”

All through their heartfelt final conversation, Tommy had been ignoring a succession of funny noises from Jack, but when he replies with a particularly sincere “I don’t want to live without you.” and Jack fully scowls, Tubbo suddenly wheels around.  “WILL YOU SHUT UP, JACK. PRIME, I’VE BEEN TELLING YOU ALL DAY, I DON’T KNOW WHAT YOUR PROBLEM IS BUT-” “Tubbo, woah.” Tommy reaches down and stills him with a hand on his shoulder. He pushes against it, using Tubbo to propel himself through the air towards Jack and his surly expression.

“Jack, I’m sorry, I didn’t know this would happen, I-” “You what, Tommy?” “Like I said, I- I wish I could make it up to you.” “You know you can, right?” “What?”

The god looks up from the map he’s been plotting upon and the sides of the giant ‘X’ fall. “Are you kidding me? I have to do it manually? For the love of-” Jack’s voice draws Tommy’s attention back. “I just think you’re fake. You say all this stuff to him that I don’t think you actually mean, because all this time you’ve just been using him for your schemes, and when they don’t work and he gets hurt-” “Jack, look at your hands.” “I swear to Prime, it’s when he gets hurt in your stupid schemes and I see you for what you really are-” “Jack,” He finally stops. “Your hands.”

Jack glances down and lets out a shriek of his own, and this time it’s Tommy splitting his sides with laughter. He swirls around in mid-air to see Tubbo’s similarly turning into golden light and rising into the air with him, raising his hands to wipe away the tears slipping down Tommy’s cheeks that ache for grinning.

“I was wondering why that was taking so long,” The god slams the book shut with the map inside and Tommy feels all the molecules that make him up shimmer and shake. It’s a little scary and slightly nauseating and he tries to channel it back into excitement as the world around them becomes a little hazy. “Anyway, I hope to never see any of you shmucks again. Don’t break anything, don’t go around killing people as an experiment and don’t you go anywhere near the dragon!” “The what?!” Tubbo asks with a laugh. “Forget it!”

The golden light is almost blinding. Tommy and Tubbo’s hands find each others automatically, their matching beams saying so much more than words ever could. Tommy turns to Jack, floating in place beside him, and offers a hand as well. “No. Absolutely not.” “I missed messing around with you, man.”

“Tommy?” He snaps his head back to look at DreamXD one more time before the light swallows them. “For the love of Prime, be happy. I cannot actually guarantee that kind of thing. I also don’t do swaps or money-back guarantees.” “Man, this is enough. I will, thank you! Thank you! Thank you-”

The last important thing Tommy feels before his vision fades to white again is Jack’s hand scrambling for his, just in time.

The ground beneath him is soft with a slight give that indicates it probably rained recently. Crows call to each other from the battlements of the castle, moving every so often with an effortless flight wall to wall. A taint in the air grows stronger with every minute that passes, smelling like a burnt-out electrical cable. Grey clouds have swept the skies, threatening to burst at any minute.

Tubbo breaks their easy silence, waiting for the end of the world to catch up to them, “We should really go inside before either of us gets radiation poisoning. After all that, that would be a shit way to go.” “Yeahh… Jack had the right idea.” “Jack was just worried his incredibly notable status as the guy at fault for this is going to get him jumped.” “Perfectly reasonable.”

They laugh softly, Tubbo leaning his head against Tommy’s shoulder. “Is this real?” “That’s the fifth time you’ve asked me that.” “Is it?”

Tommy grabs a handful of grass and throws it in Tubbo’s face. He splutters indistinct protests, “Yes, it’s real.” “Thanks, asshole.” Tubbo rolls onto his front and hops to his feet. “Come on, inside, before any trouble starts.” “Never far, is it?” Tommy asks softly, accepting the hand up that Tubbo offers him.

They walk in a comfortable quiet back inside Eret’s castle, one of the last remnants of Downtown Dream SMP that escaped the blast. Beyond the battlements: crater, and ruins, and nothing else. Just, nothing. Evidence of an entire civilisation wiped straight off the map, leaving the clean lines of annihilation. Inside the castle it’s warmer, out of the Autumn breeze. It also doesn’t smell like ozone, thanks to the fact all the windows and doors are firmly shut. Tommy’s feet lead him aimlessly to an indoor garden in the centre of the courtyard, protected by a hastily erected glass dome. He sits down heavily and lays back in the less damp grass, closing his eyes, aware of Tubbo standing over him when his shadow blocks out the light.

“What are you doing.” Tommy asks, unable to suppress his grin. “Enjoying the view.” Tommy cracks an eye open, “Finally coming around to my rugged good looks?” and earns himself a light jab to the ribcage. He sucks in a sharp breath, “Careful, that still doesn’t feel right.” It’s been about an hour since they got back, having woken up on Eret’s front lawn much to the concern and jubilant confusion of the King herself. While the injuries from the fight left no marks, Tommy still feels tender where the sword almost ran him through, and that ringing in his ears still hasn’t gone away. Annoying.

“Sorry,” Tubbo smiles, stepping over a small pinkish bush to sit down beside him. “Penny for your thoughts?” Tubbo shrugs, “Trying to work out what we do from here.” “Obvious, I thought. Get your son, get far away from here. Make a nation,” He nudges him with his elbow. “Go to the moon.”

Tubbo shakes his head, “Unfortunately, king, Project L’Moonberg has taken a major hit. We appear to have lost our rocket.” “Looks like we’ll have to set back our launch date then, Commander Underscore.” Tubbo barks out a laugh, “Commander Underscore. Give over.” “Whaaat?” He puts his arms behind his head and leans back. “I’m feeling very jovial right now, so don’t you dare bring me down.” He pauses, feeling almost breathless, despite having not done anything. “We can do whatever we want to do now, and no one’s going to tear it all down just because they can.” “Hope not. Dream’s not the only bastard in the world, you realise that, right?”

He tilts his head back to see Tubbo picking the petals off a tiny daisy one by one, “We’re not kids anymore though. We know better this time.” He watches Tubbo pause, smile, keep picking petals.  “Yeah, you’re right.” “Of course I’m right,” Tommy says with satisfaction. “I’m always right.”

After another couple minutes, Tubbo lays down beside him again, “Can I say something?” Tommy groans, “Ohhhh no. Ohhh, this is never good.” “Shut up, man!” They laugh, Tubbo shaking his head. “Screw you, I’m saying it anyway. I love you, dude.”

“Awwww-” “Tom, I swear to god-” Tommy then tries to put Tubbo in a kind of headlock to ruffle his hair. “Awwwwwwwh, Tubbbbboooo-” “Tommy!” “Ow! Okay, okay!” Tubbo screws up his face with laughter as Tommy snatches his hand back. “Prime, you don’t have to bite me, ow!” “You’re such a wimp, you’re such a wimp!”

When the latest round of lightly kicking each other subsides, Tommy shuffles closer to Tubbo. “I love you too, Tubs. I- I can’t believe we made it out.” “Neither can I-” “Like I really thought we were dead for good there-” “-no chance if we were brought back we were gonna have good lives-” “-and it was really bumming me out that we died for nothing if they went back-” “-and, like, thank god you stuck to the plan but I kinda screwed us over not checking the-” “Tubbo?” “Yeah?”

Tommy looks at his best friend’s face beside him. He remembers what that face looked like when they met - none of the scars, none of the stress, just kids, just best friends, normal, nothing more. They’re so changed, irreversibly so, but he still sees the same kid that somehow endeared himself so firmly to Tommy that he could never let go and also the one that never left him behind, not really. He hopes, beyond all hopes, that Tubbo sees the same thing staring back at him.

“What? I’m on tenterhooks, man.”

The two of them, forever against the world, forever fighting the same battle again and again, losing and falling and picking each other back up. Their wars are all over, their battles won. Time to get on with the rest of their lives.

Together.

“I really thought I might lose you today. I’m so- Look at me. To the ends of the earth, yeah? Promise me you’ll stick by me forever, because I can promise you now that you’re never getting rid of me. To the ends of the earth, and- and the moon, I guess.” “Clingy.” “Shut up.”

Tubbo’s smile was the first thing that greeted Tommy when he came back from the dead for the last time. Here, now, and forever, he gives it again and bumps his forehead gently into Tommy’s.

“To the end of everything.”

---

Taglist: @cybriz @zrenia @spaceheatertrash @waitblues @kinda-late-but-here-though @icyisweird @boomybelovd @thatfriendlyanon @rozugold 

Please let me know if you want to be added to the taglist, and thank you so, so much for reading :D

[desertfangs]

One More Kiss, Dear [AO3]

Lestat/Daniel Explicit but like.. it's vampire smut no one gets fully naked (Daniel gets close) 4,691 words

An interlude between The City Never Sleeps and Leave Your Mark in which Daniel and Lestat return to Trinity Gate and decide to watch a movie. They don't watch very much of it.

Coming to home to Trinity Gate and finding it dark and quiet was still a strange experience to Daniel, but with Lestat there, it didn’t stay dark or quiet for long. He bounded into the house with renewed energy and flipped on the lights. 

“Where should we start?” Lestat asked, doing a half turn in the foyer with his arms spread out. Daniel had hoped he’d been joking about redecorating. Armand wouldn’t mind if a few things got moved—with a revolving door of houseguests, it was inevitable—but he’d lose his shit if he came home and entire rooms were rearranged, particularly if Lestat and Daniel were the culprits. 

He cast about for something else they could do and immediately thought of the blue-eyed robot from one of Armand’s favorite movies. 

“Hey, have you ever seen Blade Runner? ” 

Lestat frowned, thrown by the change in topic. “Is that the movie you and Armand were on about back in the 80s?” 

“Yeah, the one you’d never sit down and watch,” Daniel said. Back on Night Island, Armand and Daniel had attempted to get Lestat to watch Blade Runner —as well as several other films Armand was sure Lestat would appreciate—many times, but somehow Lestat always avoided it. If anything, he was more interested in the tapes Armand had made himself, and the home videos Daniel had made of Night Island as mortal, showing the island in all its glory on sunny afternoons or the sun setting over the water. Louis, too, had enjoyed these far more than any movie. 

 “There’s an actor in it that Armand always said reminded him of you,” Daniel pressed. “Want to check it out?” 

Lestat titled his head to the side, considering his options. Then he met Daniel’s eyes. Smiled. “I suppose there’ll be time to redecorate later.” 

Not once Armand is around, Daniel thought. He could picture Lestat hauling a chair from one room to the next, Armand on his heels to snatch it away and return it to its original spot as they sniped at each other. He stifled a laugh and led Lestat to the living room with the large television. 

It only took three tries for Daniel to get the television input from the Xbox where they’d put it last night to the Blu-Ray player. 

Lestat made himself comfortable on the corner of the giant sectional sofa. He’d removed his boots and jacket in the foyer and now wore only jeans and the dark red t-shirt, almost the color of blood. It reminded Daniel of their kill and how Lestat had kissed him afterward, the way he’d shoved him against the wall and pressed his body against Daniel, sucking on his neck. His hand flew to the place on his throat where he’d left a deep, purple bruise and his pulse quickened.

Lestat glanced over him, grinning. “Well? Are we going to start this film or not?” 

Daniel swallowed and nodded. 

Read on AO3!

[novelconcepts]

i don't make resolutions, but if i did

it would be to finish this fic

(and to be kind to myself for however long it takes to actually do so)

[reon2911]

I've always struggled with sleep. Recently, I started avoiding electric lighting as much as comfortably feasible the last couple hours before bed time. I use candles instead.

Candles lighting up the bathroom while I take my shower, wash my face and brush my teeth.

Candles in the living room, even if I might still watch a bit of TV or be on my phone (and with my phone I apply blue light filter).

Candle lit hallway connecting my bathroom, living room and bedroom.

Candles on my night stand instead on a night light. Reading is a bit more difficult (and potentially more dangerous than using a lamp) while holding a candle between myself and the book to read it, but reading fantasy works in candle light just feels more magical than doing so under a lamp.

I've never had an easier time not just falling asleep but falling asleep early enough for me to get enough sleep during the night.

[averbaldumpingground]

"No, no, don't apologize. Your constant complaining is music to my ears."

Sarah ignored him, squaring her shoulders as the rocks arranged themselves again. They didn't reach as high this time, but seemed like they would be a little bit more stable.

"Verily, my lady, art thou certain about proceeding with this endeavor? Ambrosius and I--"

"Ow!" So much for stability. She banged her knee as the stone that she'd stood on rolled backwards.

"Sorry," came the low, defeated roar.

"Oh, it's alright, Ludo. There's got to be another way to do this."

"Or you could just give up. And maybe let His Royal Highness win this one?"

"There is no honor in conceding defeat! Why I--"

Sarah tuned them out. She had known, before she'd even opened her mouth, that making a bet with the Goblin King would be a terrible idea. But she was tired of the goblins trampling her makeup and eating all her little brother's crayons. And if competing in the goblins' Chicken Olympics was what got them to stop, well, she had been willing to try it.

She just hadn't counted on needing to be able to fly. Or pretty much any of the rest of it.

This whole thing really wasn't fair. She should have known.

[xxcapybaragamingepic1337xx]

If they didn't want people sleeping during the day they wouldn't have made beds so comfortable

[oreegaanoo]

Almost fell asleep in the library but now I'm at home and ready to nap aaaahhhh

[ereborne]

Song of the Day: April 15

"Something in the Way She Moves" by James Taylor