#IM GOING TO CRY IM SO HAPPY

[imtoolazytoo]

HEY. MAGNUS PROTOCOL. HOLY FUCK???

[sunnysheep]

AHHHH WE DID IT WE DID IT WE DID IT

OILIES PULLED THROUGH

[oleander-nin]

TWoaL is so nice to reread because like. US READERS KNOW THAT DONNIE IS THE PERSON LEAVING THE LETTERS. No one else really knows, unless Leo and the other turtles have a slight idea {which I have a tiny feeling they might know about Donnie having a crush-}

fnjdanvdj Guys getting asks about TWoaL is like my personal addiction these make me so happy you like it enough to send me stuff. I'm going to cry, this has never happened before. I'm so honored you like it enough to even think about rereading it.

You'll see how much the brothers know soon though! Once a few more chaps are out, I'm going to be writing a couple(number undetermined) extra scenes from Donnie's POV that'll give more insight onto everything.

(I hope this doesn't spoil anything, idk how to keep my mouth shut-)

[zeawesomebirdie]

Never in a million years did I ever think I would be in a place in my life where I was genuinely ecstatic to have done manual labour on the family farm again

[gremnda]

Hello Ethubs nation :]

no text version

[hinamie]

idk about yall but life is good again

[ruporas]

the blank ticket in your hand is just waiting to be filled in.

happy birthday vash! (ID in alt text)

[deerspherestudios]

I'm way late but better late than never 😭! For this March event by lazerinth ❤️

[umblrspectrum]

do you ever like wanna make something cool but you dont know how so you just sit around like a moron for 5 hours straight pretending you know how

me neither

on a more serious note i know ad astra as a whole isnt over but i still want to thank daybreaker for their fics. what friends are for was the very first md fic i ever stumbled upon when trying out ao3 for the first time, and prior to joining the server i was checking it near daily for uploads. god knows if i'd be as deep in ao3 as i am now if it werent for this story and convenient timing. Thanks for the story.

[philyuri]

not to demon post but like. sometimes i think about the "friends" label and the fact that it's a little bit of a haha in-joke but also... i mean. when dan said he didnt have a best friend for the first 18 years of his life he meant it yknow. like i do think that out of all the possible labels he's used, soulmates husbands arch enemies furniture who the fuck knows, best friends is amongst the most meaningful... if you never had a best friend and then met him and he stayed in that spot for fifteen years the fact that he's also the love of your life can maybe be just a bit of a bonus.

[crystallizsch]

ahahaha scarabia enthusiasts howre we feeling this perfectly fine and normal day

[qwakque]

yall fw kalim al asim??!!

[heartorbit]

i want to know everything that makes you happy! 💫🪐🎇

[skunkes]

[zeawesomebirdie]

Oh my god oh my god guys

So I've been working on playing trombone again, I've spoken about doing lessons again with my old prof and how I'm now doing rehearsals with a local community band, etc etc. And I'm currently practicing in my bedroom, because my sister and her boyfriend are here for the holiday and sleeping in the room i normally practice in.

Well.

My sister, who is currently in her third year of college to become a music teacher on tuba, just complimented my playing!!!! Ahhhhhh!!!!!!

[lost-in-fandoms]

"Tell me again."

Max hums, moving his hand in slow circles along Daniel's back, feeling his chest move against his side, his face hidden in the folds of Max's t-shirt.

He bows his head, pressing a kiss against Daniel's hair, shifting against the hotel's pillows until he's comfortable again.

"It's going to be sunny," he says, voice low, letting Daniel's curls tickle his lips and nose. "It's going to be sunset, orange, the trees all golden in the way you like."

Daniel's back shifts under his hand, his fingers twisting in Max's shirt.

"We'll be sitting in chairs, because you have old man knees, and would complain about sitting on the floor."

He twists away from the halfhearted poke in his side, then settles back.

"They will be those garden ones, the ones with the straw?"

"Wicker," Daniel corrects him softly, voice scratchy.

"Yes, wicker." He tugs Daniel even closer, not knowing how it is even possible. "With pillows, so you can curl in them like a little cat."

He smooths his hand down Daniel's back, like he does with Sassy, when she stretches out beside him on the bed, similar to how Daniel is now. Does it again when he feels Daniel's shoulders uncurl slightly.

"We will be drinking your weird beers, the expensive ones that taste worse than all the others."

"Craft beer isn't weird," Daniel argues, just like Max was expecting him to. He sounds like there's something stuck in the back of his throat, and Max kisses his hair again.

"It is weird, Daniel. Beer does not need to be that expensive."

He gives him space to reply once more, but Daniel doesn't.

"We will drink your weird beer, and we will talk about that time we ate pasta in your hotel room."

It wasn't just one time, but Max knows he doesn't need to specify. They're both thinking about the same one, illegal spaghetti ordered from room service, hidden from their trainers, sauce on the corner of Max's mouth, cleaned by Daniel's thumb first, Daniel's mouth later. And even if they aren't thinking about the same, it doesn't matter. Every plate of pasta shared, in every hotel room, would matter just as much, stepping stones in their story, just as important as that first kiss.

"And it will be rainy," Max continues, voice even lower. His t-shirt is damp, stretched by Daniel's tense fingers. Daniel's back is shuddering, even when he holds him closer and closer and closer.

"It will rain, and you will have a blanket, because you always get cold, even more when it is humid."

The thing that was in Daniel's throat is in his too now.

"We will talk about how stupid everyone was. We will say it was all unfair. But we will not be angry anymore, because it will not matter anymore."

Daniel's hair smell like Max's shampoo, even if he usually doesn't use it, because he hates how dry it makes it feel. Max can taste salt on the back of his throat as he shifts his head slightly, trying to at least keep his ears dry, now that his cheeks are a lost cause.

Daniel's breathing is a stuttered rhythm against his ribs.

"We will cook eggs," Max pushes on, pressing every word against Daniel's skin, hoping every one feels like the i love you that it is. "Because we will have chickens on your farm, like a real farm, so we will be good at cooking eggs. And you will drink your wine, and sing your songs."

His voice breaks, sudden betrayal, just as Daniel trembles in a sob, but Max pushes through. They've both always known how to push through.

"And I will ask are you happy and you will say yes," he says, making it sound like a promise, because it is a promise. "And we will not regret any of it."

He knows they won't. Not the angry moments, not the painful moments, not the annoying little moments they will never even remember. They will take all of them and throw them into the jar of their lives, little pebbles, and colorful marbles, and shards of glass smoothed out with time and love and distance, all mixed together.

"We will sit on your chairs, and they will have nothing, and we will have us."

He holds Daniel closecloseclose, because he's never learned how to let go of the things he cares about, has always clung to things with his teeth and desire bared, and he has no intention of starting now. He has no intention of starting ever.

Even if this is not the way he wanted things to happen, he doesn't believe in letting go, especially when it comes to Daniel.

He swallows, clears his throat to try and dislodge the tight knot of feelings there, raises a hand to swipe his thumb along Daniel's wet jaw.

"We will have chickens, and a garage full of dirt bikes, and I will ask Grace to teach me how to make the pasta sauce you spilled all over the carpet when you were five."

Daniel nods against his chest, fingers relaxing. His breathing is still uneven, Max's t-shirt is still damp, but he can feel him going lax against him, relaxing bit by bit.

"We will," Daniel murmurs, voice shaky enough it sounds closer to a question.

"We will," Max tells him, firm. Would be happy to tell him again and again, until Daniel's voice doesn't shake on it anymore. "We will eat so much food, and we will become fat, and we will be happy. We will."

Daniel nods again, then shifts, wiggling in Max's hold until he can properly climb on top of him, pointy elbows planted on the bed, above Max's shoulders, trembling fingers tracing the wet lines on his cheeks, red-rimmed eyes soft.

When Daniel kisses him, they both taste like salt, exhaustion and the future.