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I saw your name on a street sign In the middle of nowhere And that has to mean something

You and Fundy had been messing around on the server all day, this being one of your boyfriend’s busier days. You didn’t want to let yourself miss out on any of the shenanigans on the SMP just because your boyfriend couldn’t be online, so you rang up Fundy and decided to muck around a little. The two of you had been sprinting down one of the paths when you had noticed a new sign at one of the many intersections. You stopped and crouched down to read it, Fundy watching you curiously. Suddenly, you giggled. “Hey, it says Dream Street,” you beamed, turning to face him.

“What?” he laughed, stooping down to inspect it. After a moment, he straightened back up. “Huh, I guess it does.”

“Oh, that’s so cool!!” you gushed, bouncing a little. “Would you mind taking a picture of me with it, Fundy? I wanna show him later.”

After laughing a little at your face-splitting smile, he agreed. You struck a cute pose beside the sign and smiled as the Dutch man crouched a little and took the picture.

I know your zodiac sign Me and Leos get along great And that has to mean something

“Are you on your astrology shit again?” your boyfriend asked as he laid across from you on the bed, an amused smile curling his lips.

“No,” you giggled, dragging it out as you opened an app on your phone. Co-star lit up your screen as you pulled your knees to your chest. “On a completely unrelated note, your birthday’s August 12th, right?”

Dream playfully rolled his eyes, nudging you with his foot. He busied himself with the strings of his hoodie, fake-ignoring you. Looking up at you, you raised your eyebrows. Well? Your partner huffed and cracked a smile. “Yes, my birthday’s August 12th.”

You hummed, nodding a little and typing some stuff into your phone. “Huh.”

Dream looked up at you, eyebrows furrowed. “What?” You looked up from your phone with the smallest, fond smile on your face. When you didn’t answer, he tried again. “What? What are you huh-ing about?”

Your smile grew a little as you started to speak. “It says that me and Leos get along great.”

“Oh my god-”

“You know what that means?” you asked, cheeks dusting pink.

The boy sitting across from you snickered a little, short puffs of air leaving his nose. “No, what does it mean?” he replied, deciding to humor you.

“Our love was written in the stars!” you exclaimed dramatically, flopping over onto his legs. “It was meant to be.” You beamed up at him, clasping your hands together.

Dream sat up, brushing a stray hair behind your ear. The smile that curved his lips was real this time, not playful or mocking or amused. It was warm and fond and home. “It sure was.”

But for some reason You’re not here And I refuse to believe That means something

You’d been there for hours, waiting. He said he’d meet you at the bench - your bench. He said he’d meet you and you’d go for a walk and watch the sunset like you’d been planning. You had your little picnic blanket and your backpack and your dinner all packed up, probably no longer warm. You’d been ready, giddy all day, excited to watch the sunset with your one love and look at the stars and make up stupid, fake constellations and laugh at each other’s antics. You’d brought the little flower you’d made out of a piece of scrap paper too while wandering around aimlessly earlier, another little paper craft for his collection. You’d been excited. So excited that you couldn’t bring yourself to acknowledge the dark feeling in the pit of your stomach; the feeling that something was wrong.

You refused to leave the bench, even as the breeze picked up and the sun neared the horizon. Sure, it wasn’t like Dream to be so late without giving you some sort of heads up, but maybe he was just this one time. Maybe he got caught up doing business with someone and he’d forgotten to shoot you a message. Maybe he forgot something and he had to run back home and grab it. Maybe he got stuck setting up one of his Classic Dream Surprises and had lost track of time. Maybe-

Many of your friends passed you on the path near your bench, gazing at you sympathetically but not stopping to talk. No one had the heart to break the news to you. Niki and Ranboo had lingered on the path for a little bit, whispering back and forth, debating whether or not they should check up on you. They eventually decided against it and went to go get Phil.

You bounced your leg and clutched the blanket a little tighter. It’ll be fine, he’s just running late.

I felt the way that you hugged me When I was broken inside And that has to mean something

He was gone. Wilbur was dead.

Your ears were ringing. The news had been on loop in your head since you’d received it. He’s gone, Y/N. He’s gone.

You and Wilbur had been relatively close - one could even go as far as to say that he was one of your best friends. Although you loved him dearly, you couldn’t say that you didn’t see it coming. Unfortunately, that didn’t dull that shock that came with the news. Dream had been out on business when you’d heard, and you’d been laid up in bed ever since. You refused to look in the mirror, already well aware of how rough you probably looked. Your eyes were swollen and red from crying, and you’d been wearing the same big hoodie all day. For the past two hours you’d been doing nothing but staring up at the ceiling, replaying every little moment you could remember from your friendship in your head. It hurt. Everything hurt.

You hadn’t heard when the front door opened. Or when Dream called out into the eerily quiet house, announcing that he was home. Or even the steps of your boyfriend approaching from down the hall. He opened the door, confused to see you in bed, puffy-eyed and motionless. You sat up in bed when you noticed a blur of green standing in the doorway of the bedroom.

The two of you stared at one another for a moment, the tension nearly palpable. Dream’s eyebrows were furrowed in confusion as he stared at you in a vain effort to assess the situation, neither of you breathing. He blinked and your bottom lip began to quiver. Concerned, he look forward and you let out a wail, tears spilling down your cheeks.

He caught you, kneeling awkwardly over you on the bed to hold you tight against his chest. “What’s wrong, baby? What happened?”

“He’s - gone,” you managed out between sobs.

“Who’s gone, honey?”

“Wil-” You hiccupped. “Wilbur’s dead.”

I felt the way that you kissed me When we got too drunk that night And that had to mean something

It was a good night; you and your boyfriend were sat around your candlelit coffee table having a celebratory drink. Celebrating what, you may ask? Well, no other occasion than Dream successful negotiating with a business partner. You couldn’t quite put your finger on why this negotiation was more important that your partner’s other successful business ventures, but his excitement was enough for you to give in.

You’d started drinking and talking around sunset. It was now nearing midnight and the two of you found yourselves dancing, slowly swaying to the tune of Dream’s humming. He lifted his chin from the top of your head, and you looked up to meet his gaze, curious. Leaning down, he rested his forehead against yours. “Can I kiss you?”

His breath fanned across your face, warming your already pink cheeks. Your lips curled in a lazy smile. He smelled like red wine and something smoky. You loved him like this, all close and vulnerable and yours.

Scrunching up your nose, you scoffed. “Can you kiss me?” you mocked playfully, leaning into him a little more. “Of course you can kiss me; we’re dating, love.”

“I just wanted to make sure,” he replied breathily, leaning down to lock your lips. Your noses brushed together, your eyelashes fluttering against his cheek. You clasped your hands behind his neck, leaning up the slightest bit on your tiptoes, and he held your elbows. The kiss was timid, but it warm and him and love and home. It was soft and sweet and comfortable. He kissed you like he was promising you the future, that everything would be okay. Like he was telling you he would always be there to take care of you.

When you pulled away, he moved to cup your cheeks, keeping your foreheads pressed together. For a good, long while, the two of you stayed standing like that, just swaying and smiling at each other.

But for some reason You’re not here And I refuse to believe That means something

You’d curled up on the bench by now, knees pulled up to your chest and wrapped in your picnic blanket. He’s coming, you assured yourself, chin tucked into your hoodie. The sun had long since dipped below the horizon and you’d resorted to tapping your foot against the wood of the bench in the awkward position. You didn’t bother checking your clock; you didn’t want to know how long you’d been waiting anymore. You just wanted to sit there and wait until your boyfriend showed up.

The paper flower you’d so carefully made for him had been cupped between your palms for hours now, probably sweaty and wilted. You’d thought about setting it down - but what if it blew away? What if you accidentally lost it?

You lost yourself a little staring out into the distance, trying to make out some kind of constellation in the inky darkness of the night. Sighing you slumped a little, trying not to let your paranoia get the best of you. At least you were both under the same sky. It was admittedly getting pretty chilly, but you didn’t care. You’d wait at your bench until Dream got here.

A hand gently met your shoulder, and you jumped. You smiled excitedly, relaxing. “Finally-” you started, turning to face him. Your smile dropped when, instead, you turned to be met with Phil’s sad smile. Confused and somewhat disappointed, you cocked your head. “Hi.”

“Hi, Y/N,” the older man greeted softly, moving around the bench. “Can I talk to you about something?”

Your brows furrowed once again, concerned. He seemed really serious. Scooting to one side, you patted the space beside you. “Yeah, of course. Whatever you need.”

He sighed sadly at that, taking a seat next to you on the bench. “I have some news,” he started carefully.

“News?” you echoed, sounding a little empty.

Phil inhaled deeply, sensing that you already knew that something was wrong. “Yeah, I have some news for you.”

You blinked slowly, turning to face him better. “Okay, what is it?”

“Let me start by saying however you react to this is totally okay, alright?” he began softly, watching as you nodded numbly.  “So, uhm.” He paused, wringing his hands. “Dream’s gone.”

“Yeah,” you said as if it were obvious. “He’s on his way here.”

“No, Y/N-” He paused again, trying to figure out how to word it delicately. “He’s not with us anymore.”

You scoffed in disbelief at Phil’s stubbornness. “Yes, Phil, I know. He’s away on business.”

“Y/N.” A sigh escaped his lips as he covered his mouth with his hand, now genuinely afraid of how you were processing things. “Y/N, he’s dead.” He waited for you to respond but, instead, you just blinked at him. “There was a disagreement during their meeting and things got out of hand-” Another pause. “He’s gone. I’m so sorry.”

Every time I think too much It ends up crazy I don’t know how to not think about you Every time I trust my gut I think I’m crazy ‘Cause I don’t know how to put my trust in you

It had been a few hours since you’d gotten the news, and the denial has slowly faded away. He would’ve texted you if he’d been running late. He wouldn’t have left you there for hours and hours, waiting for him on a little bench.

After the initial shock had worn off, you’d gone home to process things, and to say that things didn’t turn out pretty would be an understatement. Once you had gotten home, you went straight to your shared bedroom and made a mountain out of his clothes. Grabbing a case of beer from the fridge, you sat on the floor and stared at his stuff for a long while. You only had two bottles, knowing that drinking yourself out of feeling probably wouldn’t be the best solution right now, but you still sat there nursing your drink as the tears silently rolled down your cheeks. You couldn’t help but feel like you’d been here before.

By the time you’d heard the knock at your front door, the house was a mess. Picture frames were shattered, anything that belonged to Dream or reminded you of him was scattered about, his snacks were piled up on the kitchen counters, his shoes were stacked up behind the bedroom door - the entire house was in a state of complete chaos. And there you were, wailing and dragging yourself through the mess towards the front door. You swung open the door, which bounced off of an overflowing box of trinkets Dream had collected from you, and there was Sapnap standing awkwardly on your front porch.

You were suddenly aware of how rough you looked, red nose and puffy eyes and tear-stained cheeks in all of your grieving glory. You’d put on a pair of his sweats and a random hoodie he’d gifted you for one of your anniversaries, both of which were obviously too big for you. You sniffled, looking up at the man sadly.

“Hey, you doing okay?” Sapnap asked softly, wondering what exactly was and wasn’t okay to ask someone who’d just heard that their partner had passed away.

Your eyebrows knit together and something inside of you broke. You tried to choke back a sob, but it came out as a sputtering cough as a waterfall of tears poured down your face. “No,” you wailed, slumping in on yourself and grabbing fistfuls of the extra fabric of the hoodie you were wearing. Losing a little bit of your self-control, you lurked forward and threw your arms around the other, who didn’t hesitate to pull you into himself. Rubbing circles into your back, he walked you back into the house. Navigating the mess of you trying to sort out all of Dream’s things was no easy task but, eventually, he led you to your living room. 

The both of you sat down on the couch, you still hugging him and him still rubbing circles into your back. He would hold you for as long as you needed, humming a little in a vain attempt to try and make you feel better. “I know it’s hard that he’s gone now,” he started, trying not to start crying himself. “But it’ll be okay, Y/N. I’ve got you.”

Do you think it means something That I wrote another song about you?

You sang softly, kicking your legs from where you sat at the edge of the cliff you’d found. It was some coping and recovery exercise Bad had recommended - writing songs or poems or stories or whatever about things you were struggling to come to terms with. You had to admit that it had helped some. When you’d first started with the writing, you’d chosen to start writing songs because you’d seen how happy Dream had been when he used to write music. You wanted a part of that. You wanted to understand what had made him so happy.

you cannot tell me that this man would not be so soft with you

but he’d also meme so hard

y’all have lots of extra blankets bc cuddles and movies and just trying to be cozy all the time

ok i feel like you’d both have a hard time sleeping so just imagine warm drinks and blankets and sitting on the floor together while staring out the window and talking about absolutely nothing

lots and lots of laughs

he would most definitely make fun of you for being “short”

i mean, come on, the man is 6′5; odds are that you’re gonna be shorter than him and he twists that any way that he can

to make even more fun of your height, he’ll make you mark and measure your height in the doorway like parents do with their kids every few months to check if you’ve grown

lots of mugs

3am baking and making messes of each other with flour and better

movie nights always end in one of you falling asleep

if you fall asleep, he’ll turn off the movie and start cleaning everything up, kind of his way of seeing if you’ll wake up and go to your guys’ bedroom on your own

you usually don’t, so he just cleans up and carries you to bed afterwards

he would definitely make sure that you don’t fall asleep with makeup on and that your teeth get brushed and all that good stuff

if you’re half-asleep and barely coherent, he’ll sit you on the counter and try to do all of that stuff for you

if he’s the one that falls asleep, it’s usually with him leaning on you

you turn down the volume and clean up before returning to the couch

seeing as he’s far too big for you to pick him up and carry him to bed yourself, you just turn the volume down on the tv, snuggle up to him, and fall asleep as well

eventually you both wake up in odd positions with aching backs and drag yourselves to bed, leaving the blankets on the couch to be dealt with in the morning

he really likes resting his head in your lap when you guys are on the couch

play with his hair? this man is out like a light in 20 minutes tops

if you can’t sleep at night, he’ll play with your hair and hum to you until he’s sure that you’ve fallen asleep

you always help each other with the dishes

you do the washing and he does the drying

laundry day is a chaotic mess

there are messy, half-assed piles of “sorted” clothes everywhere and neither of you have figured out whatever system the other uses

y’all mess around a lot on laundry day, especially when it comes to washing all the sheets on your bed

you pull the sheets out of the dryer and have to ask wilbur to help you put it on

so you crawl on the bed to get some corners and will gets the others while standing

and he always messes it up on purpose

he thinks it’s cute and funny when the corners come off and the fitted sheet kind of swallows you

you usually wake up before he does

so you’ll wiggle out of his grasp and go take care of all the trivial things you do in the mornings

and then you go make breakfast for the two of you

sometimes he’ll wander out of bed wondering where you’ve gone and find you in the kitchen

then he’ll hug you from behind and kind of slump over you and sway with you for a bit