Yes This Was The Last Drawing Of 2024, Just Never Posted It.

It had been a habit during Manberg and New Lmanburg. For all his faults, Dream was reliable when Tubbo needed him to show up

So when an emergency appeared, like a sinkhole opening by their crop patches or a sudden flood licking at the floors of the city, Tubbo would set up a spell by his shrine and pray.

It was a simple thing, not much more then a circle of salt and a candle, but Dream would be there in five minutes no matter what. Even after Tubbo called him over a few times to help practice his speeches.

Those times almost feel like a past life now. But still, after Tubbo had talked himself in circles for hours trying to think of a response to Jack's many needless complaints, when it was time to leave a new bowl of fish jerky on the shrine he found himself looking for a candle.

There's something almost embarrassing as he stops in the middle of the hallway, a box of matches already in his hands. Dream had been a comfort, sure, but he was also Dream. Yes, he was the God Tubbo prayed to, whatever, but him being Dream was always more important.

More then that, would he even come? It had been a month since the prison break, and no one had seen even a trace of him.

On the darkest nights, the one where Tubbo would not let Tommy walk out the door, he admitted that he was expecting Dream to abandon them. To sink back in the wild and snap the threads connecting them to him and to leave them fully human as they were born, yet somehow less who they were.

Tubbo sighed, hopping and switching his weight from one hoof to another before finally deciding to say fuck it.

Ranboo was staying in the arctic commune today, and Michael had been asleeo in bed for hours already. When would there be any chance as perfect as this to do something stupid?

He put the plate on the small shrine by the window, placing the candle on the floor in front of it and making a circle of salt around it.

He lit the candle, giving a prayer that was too well done for how much time it had been, and sighed as the candle goes out by itself as he finished the words. Dream probably was not going to-

"WHAT IS GOING ON?!"

Tubbo screamed, his limbs locking in place and barely allowing him to see his front door slammed open, Dream standing there with wide eyes, completly nude except for the fur thrown over his shoulders and dripping water onto his floorboards.

"wha-"

"WHY DID YOU OF ALL PEOPLE CALL ME ARE YOU FUCKING DYING??"

I've been thinking of cdream laying across ctechno's chest and completly and efficently inmovilizing him for hours bc ctechno doesnt have the heart to wake him up. What's worse it's that once cdream leaves, cphil comes and does the same, basically leaving him stuck for other three hours more.

Ctechno is the biggest of the three but even he has a weakness when his parthers just sleep close to him like he's not heartless to make them move yk he's a dog/wolf owner he knows how rules go

he ain't make the rules /shrug

can't get up if there's a cutie sleeping on you. whether it's a dog, cat, human, human-adjacent., etc.

thibking about daddy issues, and the absolute deliciousness of a slight dreamza dynamic. Like, a little bit of “what would it take, how would they get there” but also the tension. I think everyone would be a little miserable and slightly drifting closer to insane, but mostly wilbur. Ordinarily i think dreamza has a certain wonderful dynamic, but the deliberateness of daddy issues makes me think

same.

like.

what if they kissed.

you know?

like what if there was all this tension over who is the mirror image of who, and who would be the better son, and who is at fault for what's happening, and cphilza and cdream KISSED about it. what if there was all this jealousy and three Very Insecure Men all navigating their different ideas about family and success and peace, and those two just KISSED ABOUT IT. what if they were tender about it. what if they [redacted]

сDoomsdaytrio and Jewelry

cPhilza likes jewelry, but mostly finds it very impractical. Something that can be caught in a fight and throw him off balance. (cPhilza used to wear a lot of jewelry, showed it off in every way. Until someone pulled his ear so hard that the lobe had to be sewn back in place in a panic and сPhil was given healing potions. Then it was a friendly match, and the end of someone else's sword caught an earring on a chain. Much later, he was almost killed when an arrow missed the chain and pinned him in place for an extra couple of seconds. cPhilza miraculously survived when the next poisoned arrow hit him in the right side.)

Now he wears a stud with a diamond-shaped emerald in his left ear, he has gotten used to wearing jewelry again. It no longer bothers him.

cTechno loves jewelry, he is ready to hang himself in it and dress everyone in it. Earrings in the ears, with different stones: one with an emerald on a gold chain, ruby ​​studs, another with small emeralds laid out in a clover leaf, and just gold. Sometimes, on days when he and cPhil are relaxing, he puts on bracers and greaves made of gold, decorated with swirls with a boar's face in the middle, with ravens on the sides and a border with sweet antarctida berries. He pulls out a diamond necklace, rings with rubies and gold.

cDream doesn't wear jewelry. It's not practical, it shows his weaknesses, it points to his attachments.

But he can't give up the diamond-shaped medallion with the emerald. He keeps it under layers of clothes, where no one can see, where it's safest.

In hard times, cDream clings to the medallion, cradles it in his hands and tries to calm himself down after another attack.

@davewallz pspspspsp

for art ideas- post prison drunz fluff?

Getting Dream's (now) long hair out of the way

Someone clap I drew cdream but not pre prison or skinny twink #1836

(Not my fault I keep drawing him that way)

handmade warmth

for the @sixteenth-day-event

The cold made Dream’s leg hurt. He rubbed a hand over his residual limb, massaging the scarred flesh and the muscle remained. It was a phantom pain and it annoyed him, that unwanted reminder of what had happened in the prison. He had told Techno that if it was in his mind then he should be able to control it and Techno hadn’t laughed but had given him an oddly tight smile and said he wasn’t sure it worked like that. Leaning forward, Dream held his hands out to the fire. It was low now, as the evening had dragged into night, and that was letting in the chill that caused the aching in his joints.

He thought about calling for Techno, who had disappeared upstairs for something he promised was important, to add another log. He could do it himself on a good day but he was tired and the muscle spasm in his leg when he had moved still hadn’t faded. Some rational part of his mind said it had been barely over a month since he had escaped the prison and it made sense he wasn’t up to much yet. Dream had been studiously ignoring it.

The metal poker was just within reach if Dream tipped the chair over just a little.

“If you fall, I am gonna laugh at you,” came Techno’s voice from behind him.

The chair dropped back to floor with a thud and Dream turned around with the best scowl he could manage, cheeks red and hot.

“I’m not—Shut up, Techno, you’re—you’re the one who left me here for, like, three hours,” said Dream, eyes flicking to the window as he tried to judge how much time had passed. The snow outside, tinted purple by the beacons, made it difficult.

“Bruh, it was not three hours.”

Dream rolled his eyes and crossed his arms, sinking into the chair.

“It felt like three hours.” Dream glanced down. “What’s that?”

The ‘that’ in question was a large package that was tucked under Techno’s arm. It was wrapped in paper decorated with snowflakes and holly and it was lumpy. The bow that had been carefully tied around it was crushed a little. Techno held it out and patted one hand against it.

“It’s a present, Dream,” he said, crossing the room to stand in front of Dream. He set in his lap. “Merry Christmas, man.”

Blinking a couple times, Dream ran his hand over the package and then frowned.

“It’s not even Christmas.”

Techno glanced at the fireplace then reached for a log. He carefully placed it on top, the flames licking at his fingers, and if it burnt, he didn’t seem to notice. Pulling his rocking chair a little bit forward, he sat.

“Eh, it’s Christmas Eve. Close enough.” Techno shrugged. “Beside, that’s as much for me as it is for you. Go on, open it, man.”

In the fireplace, the flames licked up the new log. Dream’s frown deepened. There were half a dozen protests he could make – that Christmas Eve still wasn’t Christmas, that he hadn’t gotten anything for Techno – but he began to carefully tear open the paper.

“Whatever,” he muttered. The embarrassed blush was still on his face.

Once the paper was removed, it took Dream a moment to figure out what it was. He ran his fingers over the soft fabric, a patchwork of different patterns and colors. Flowers and swirls and geometric shapes. Greens and blues and spots of reds. Dream unfolded the quilt partially. The back was three large blocks of fabric, all shades of dark navy that reminded Dream of the night sky in the arctic. He looked up. Techno was watching with a satisfied expression, mouth curved into a smile, tusks glinting in the firelight.

“What d’you think? Now you can finally stop hoggin’ my blanket,” said Techno.

Dream pulled the quilt further into his lap, letting it spill down across his legs. It was thicker than he had first realized. The weight on his lap was surprisingly comforting. It was warm. The mismatch of colors was pretty and Dream knew it’d be prettier once it was spread out. He loved it.

He said, “Heh. Hogging.”

In the chair across from him, Techno groaned and slapped a hand to his face in an over-exaggerated manner that was mostly to hide the grin. He got to his feet.

“Alright, that’s it. I’m takin’ it back, you’re outta here.”

Those words would’ve once caused a flutter of panic in Dream’s chest, would’ve birthed a snarky comment about wanting to leave, but Techno didn’t mean it. He knew that. Dream tugged the quilt up to his chest.

“No, fuck off, Techno. You made it for me, it’s mine.”

Laughing, Techno bent and tucked the blanket up around Dream’s shoulders.

“Yeah, you got me there, man,” he said. “I’m guessin’ you like it, then.”

The phantom pain had subsided. Dream shifted in the chair and rubbed his chin against the soft fabric of the quilt. A smile slowly worked its way across his face.

“Yeah.” A beat. “Thanks, Techno.”

Merry christmas to whatever these two had going on

reminders for today:

if you or someone you know might need it in the next few years, purchase plan b. the shelf life of plan b is 4 years, and we might not be able to access it as easily as we can now in the days ahead.

if you can, purchase books that project 2025 is looking to ban.

mass deportations are starting. if you see ice vehicles or agents, yell ice raid and la migra as loud as you can.

if someone asks who you voted for, keep your mouth shut. they’re fishing for traitors.

if anyone, anyone at all asks about your neighbors or their legal status in the us, you know nothing. don’t be the reason that their family is separated.

if anyone asks about your religion or lack thereof, keep it vague. this administration will look for any excuse to persecute you.

your friends are trans or queer? for the next four years they’re not. don’t expose anyone’s status as a trans or queer person to anyone else, even if you think you can trust them.

did someone you know get an abortion? no, they didn’t. it was a miscarriage if anyone asks.

in short, don’t be a snitch, and keep to yourself these next four years. we’ll make it through this even if it seems hopeless at times.

this is all i can think of at the moment, but i’ll be adding on to this as the day continues.

we can survive this. we’ve survived before, and we’ll survive again.

Not everyone is prepared for new pets...

...he hasn't felt safe enough to sleep recently