Tub bo :)
TOMMY AND RANBOO ARE STILL GOING AT IT ON TWITTER AND TUBBO IS NOWHERE TO BE FOUND
i was vibing in an aggie but then the brainrot shook me like a maraca and went “undertale au. go”
2/24/2021 - 2/25/2021
Bee and Boo Hotel (trademark pending)
Tommy is the voice of reason in the clingy duo.
I’ll not elaborate, you know I’m right.
this has the energy of two children running around annoying people at an important event because the parents couldn’t leave them at home alone
Ranboo and Tommy’s twitter fights are so much funnier when you consider that twitter is canon on the dream smp…. I’m just imagining Tommy ignoring Dream in favor of trying to fight with his best friends new fiancé. Ranboo bullying someone who is already in jail. The hotel rivalry has already begun.
this is a fic i’m working on w/ @obliviousintelligence
tis a modern au + dadschlatt
School is shit.
I don’t want to be horribly pessimistic, but I sometimes think I’m just alone. I guess you’d know how I’d feel if your dad is passed out drunk at 4AM, again.
Is that a bit selfish of me to think?
No, no, it can’t be selfish of me to want to get away from everyone else. (While also staying with everyone else.)
Though, now that I think about it, it does sound a bit self-centered.
Sometimes I think of being a leader. A just leader, one that everyone loves and cherishes for being kind and loyal. A timeline where I can make some sort of impact, where I can be something.
It sounds nice.
Maybe it could happen, one day.
A life where I’m not called odd for once. Somewhere where my dad doesn’t peer over my shoulder with alcohol reeking from his breath.
Somewhere where I could get away from reality, I guess.
Sometimes I get dreams, most about this particular daydream of mine. The others teeter between the lines of what counts as a dream, though, seeing as the vast amounts of memories I have from the nights where I actually sleep are terrible and I’d rather forget them.
I used to scream when they’d get bad.
I learned to not.
I wake up, my hair disheveled and oddly different than it did yesterday.
The smell of coffee and alcohol immediately hit me like a truck as I come to. It’s a familiar combination- with them being basically the only two things my dad drinks. I used to like the smell of coffee, though. It was warm and happy; the scent made me feel safe.
It doesn’t anymore, though. The only thing coffee signals now is that I can’t talk to my dad or something… bad will happen.
Alcohol was never a good smell (or taste) for me. It always reeked of bad intentions and blurry thoughts, with every step and breath being an unseeable action that crashes and clunks into pieces of furniture and glass bottles.
It was lonely.
That might go for my dad as well, I guess. He was never prepared for me- he tells me that I had wrecked all his plans.
I got a cut on one of the glass shards from a bottle once.
I was sitting on the floor of his room, laying against the wall with my leg propped up, so he could take care of it.
I carefully walk through our cluttered apartment, and try not to wake my dad.
“Y’know, Tubbo… you ever think about, uh, runnin’?” His voice was slightly slurred; I could tell that he was a bit drunk.
He doesn’t, fortunately. He drank a lot yesterday, for reasons that I don’t think I’ll ever know.
“N-No. Haven’t thought about it.”
It’s a new story every time: another job application turned down, another glare from some time old frenemy that always kept cropping up, another fucking girl that he used to date in high school- really, the list goes on.
“You sure?” He tended to tower over me, when he’d slouch. It’d be like some sort of shadow looming over yourself, backed up against a wall.
I think he’s just trying to find reasons to drink at this point.
“Can’t say I have.” I let out a nervous laugh.
I slide the blanket over his body, and rest him facing up on the couch.
“I once got a box, Tubbo. A box ‘n a pen ‘n some… instructions.” I didn’t like where it was going at the time, but it’s not like I could do anything about it. He continued, “I was going to put you in that box,” He laughed, he fucking laughed, “‘N leave you there. You ever want to do that?”
While I’m doing that, I also pick up a few empty bottles and put them at the end table.
“N… no. No, D-”
There’s no one to really worry about him besides me.
We’re (see: I’m) alone in this apartment.
After grabbing a spare notebook or two, I dash to the exit. Upon leaving, I say a quick “Bye, dad,” then rush out the door.
made myself a new pfp
if the fake beef the bench trio are doing on Twitter (and Jack’s stream as well) doesn’t end with Tommy getting a red dinosaur hoodie I’m going to riot
RANBOO HELD NOTHING BACK -
the three verified T names amirite
Songs that remind me of the Dream SMP-
Prison Dream: Viva La Vida- Coldplay
Pre-Prison Dream: I Can’t Decide- Scissor Sisters
George: Feelin’ Good- Michael Buble
Sapnap: Great Pretender- Freddie Mercury (I have my reasons for this okay)
BadBoyHalo: Devil In Disguise- Elvis Presley
Eret: You Should See Me In A Crown- Billie Eilish
Schlatt: How Bad Can I Be? -The Lorax
Ranboo: Bohemian Rhapsody- Queen
Quackity: It’s My Life- Bon Jovi
Post Exile Wilbur: I Want It All- Queen
November 16th Wilbur: I’m Going Home- Tim Curry
Techno: Emperor’s New Clothes- Panic! At The Disco
Niki: Fight Song- Rachel Plattern
George+ Sapnap @ Dream: The Winner Takes It All- ABBA
Tubbo: Bad Day- Daniel Powter
Tommy: Titanium- David Guetta
Puffy: Killer Queen- Queen
Karl: ‘39- Queen
Go crazy go stupid
can we just make enderbees the friendship name/tag? like drown out the freaks shipping them. if we can flood the tags with general ranboo & tubbo content, the shippers wont have a place to go.
honestly i just think enderbees is too good to have some awful association of gross ass shipping.
(if theres already a name for it pls lmk cos ive been stuggling to find any content in tags without stumbling on some shippers ;-;)