#And I’m grateful phil asked for help

[ranboo-and-the-like]

There is something so special about watching forever and Baghera walk through tallulahs home. The way they read all of the signs, the way they asked permission to go into and through the house, the way they admired the art. It’s how forever confesses that he is near tears. It’s about when baghs asked tallulah if wilbur sang to her, and rejoiced when she read that he sang to her every night. It’s about their reverence, not making light of the place or occasion. It’s about how Tallulah trusts them enough and is excited for them to meet her papa. It’s about love and family.

[ashleymilesphil]

We Need Your Support Now More Than Ever🏳️‍🌈🙏

Hello friends.

We are LGBTIQ refugees from East Africa, and we are facing unimaginable challenges in the refugee camps where we have been displaced. Every day, we struggle to survive in hostile environments filled with homophobia and persecution. Our lives are constantly at risk, and we need your help to make it through these difficult times.

Despite the challenges, we have some good news to share! The first group of LGBTIQ refugees from our community is finally heading to Canada. This is a huge milestone for us, and it wouldn't have been possible without your incredible support. We are deeply grateful to everyone who has stood by us, and we ask that you continue to support us in whatever way you can.

But we still have a long way to go. Many of us remain in these camps, living in fear and uncertainty. We are asking, kindly, for your donations to our fundraiser. Every penny counts—whether it’s for food, medication, or shelter, your contribution helps us survive another day.

Even though it's difficult to keep asking, we can’t stop. Our lives and futures depend on your generosity. Please, if you can, donate to our cause. Together, we can create a safer future for our community.

Thank you for your continued support, and let’s keep moving forward.

Other ways to Donate.⬇️

PayPal: lwerephillip@gmail.com

Ko-fi : https://ko-fi.com/phil24

With gratitude,

Phill and the LGBTIQ refugee community

[sizzlingsandwichperfection-blog]

A Big TB Announcement

Greetings from Washington D.C., where I spent the morning meeting with senators before joining a panel that included TB survivor Shaka Brown, Dr. Phil LoBue of the CDC, and Dr. Atul Gawande of USAID. Dr. Gawande announced a major new project to bring truly comprehensive tuberculosis care to regions in Ethiopia and the Philippines. Over the next four years, this project can bring over $80,000,000 in new money to fight TB in these two high-burden countries.

Our family is committing an additional $1,000,000 a year to help fund the project in the Philippines, which has the fourth highest burden of tuberculosis globally.

Here’s how it breaks down: The Department of Health in the Philippines has made TB reduction a major priority and has provided $11,000,0000 per year in matching funds to go alongside $10,000,000 contributed by USAID and an additional $1,000,000 donated by us. This $22,000,000 per year will fund everything from X-Ray machines, medications, and GeneXpert tests to training and employing a huge surge of community health workers, nurses, and doctors who are calling themselves TB Warriors. In an area that includes nearly 3,000,000 people, these TB Warriors will screen for TB, identify cases, provide curative treatment, and offer preventative therapy to close contacts of the ill. We know this Search-Treat-Prevent model is the key to ending tuberculosis, but we hope this project will be both a beacon and a blueprint to show that It’s possible to radically reduce the burden of TB in communities quickly and permanently. It will also, we believe, save many, many lives.

—

I believe we can’t end TB without these kinds of public/private partnerships. After all, that’s how we ended smallpox and radically reduced the global burden of polio. It’s also how we’ve driven down death from malaria and HIV. For too long, TB hasn’t had the kind of government or private support needed to accelerate the fight against the disease, but I really hope that’s starting to change. I’m grateful to USAID for spearheading this project, and also to the Philippine Ministry of Health for showing such commitment and prioritizing TB.

—

One reason this project is even possible: Both the cost of diagnosis (through GeneXpert tests) and the cost of treatment with bedaquiline are far lower than they were a year ago, and that is due to public pressure campaigns, many of which were organized by nerdfighteria. I’m not asking you for money (yet); Hank and I will be funding this in partnership with a few people in nerdfighteria who are making major gifts. But I am asking you to continue pressuring the corporations that profit from the world’s poorest people to lower their prices. I’ve seen some of the budgets, and it’s absolutely jaw-dropping how many more tests and pills are available because of what you’ve done as a community.

—

I don’t yet have the details on which region of the Philippines we’ll be working in, but it will be an area that includes millions of people–perhaps as many as 3 million. And it will include urban, suburban, and rural areas to see the different responses needed to provide comprehensive care in different communities. This will not (to start!) be a nationwide campaign, because even though $80,000,000 is a lot of money, it’s not enough to fund comprehensive care in a nation as large as the Philippines. But we hope that it will serve as a model–to the nation, to the region, and to the world–of what’s possible. 

—

I’m really excited (and grateful) that our community gets to have a front-row seat to see the challenges and hopefully the successes of implementing comprehensive care. Just in the planning, this project has involved so many contributors–NGOs in the Philippines, global organizations like the Partners in Health community, USAID, the national Ministry of Health in the Philippines, and regional health authorities as well. There are a lot of partners here, but they’ve been working together extremely well over the last few months to plan for this project, which will start more or less immediately thanks to their incredibly hard work.

[nexahexagon]

Thoughts r swimming with Warden!Sneeg, or specifically Sneeg having been a warden/skulk infected since the beginning. And his tendency to be constantly alone.

Rambles and semi headcannons on tr!Sneeg under cut (fairly long, apologies, and written from before the first ball)

(All of this is headcannons on the characters and how I view each as a sole Sneeg watcher. Also, I’m taking potshots into lore that hasn’t been completed, and we have no idea whats gonna come of it so. Might be firmly into au territory here.)

Like how a Warden protects its city, Sneeg wanting to protect his friends, be around them. He holed up with Philza in the beginning, they were gonna have an upper floor for him if I remember correctly. And Fit was apart of it as well, even going so far as joining yellow with Sneeg.

But they left.

Sneeg even (albeit jokingly) said he had tally’d the walls for every day his friends had gone, and that he’d missed them, and they’d left him.

And even after that, Phil left to his mushroom island. And Sneeg followed. Sneeg calls it “their island” while Phil calls it “his island”. And Phil isn’t doing this maliciously, I don’t think, it’s just that it was his, and Sneeg followed. Because despite it all, he wasn’t going to leave his friends behind.

But they left.

Phil comes back every now and then. Fit hasn’t woken up in a long, long time, and when he does it’s brief. The King disappears for long periods. And now, Sneeg made another friend. ClownPierce. And he, too, wakes for very brief periods, each time he’s normally away grinding levels, much like Sneeg.

Sneeg has been alone for a long time. Not quite purposeful at the beginning. He stayed in the castle when smithing and fishing in the early days. It wasn’t too busy then, and he did go caving a lot, but he had some people around him.

But his close friends weren’t there.

He began isolating himself, perhaps unknowingly, because he was used to not having people there. It was subconscious, they didn’t exactly need him, and if they did, they’d say so. He wasn’t needed. That’s why they left. He built a house for Phil, made weapons and armor for him, and he still left to make/get his own. Fit was in a different mindset, a completely different leveling system than Sneeg was following, he wasn’t needed. Clown was higher leveled than him, made good armor, and better enchants. He wasn’t Needed.

But he was useful sometimes. Clown enjoyed his Twohickey, even if it took a while for him to understand the process. Foolish requested his services in armor and enchanting. Pili asked his assistance if Pangi were to attack him. Fit was grateful for the high leveled knuckles Sneeg was able to make him.

And above all, the one person who was always there, even if not around him, he was able to help. Above all, he had a City to protect. A Castle. Ros. And when Ros left, left the faction, her castle, his city, Him, he needed to do something. He wasn finally given a problem that he could solve, something he could fix. Someone he could save, finally.

And he did. He saved his City, and his some of his friends were there to bear witness. He was on Phil’s island, Clown responded to his summons, Foolish returned. He did something worthwhile. He didn’t need his numbers to feel achieved, finally.

And then he’d built his shrieker system. For Ros. In case she were in trouble again. So she’d never be truly alone. He spent hours figuring out how to work the system, and it worked for her and benefited him as well. But.

It wasn’t needed. He wasn’t needed.

There was no more trouble. The main cause of trouble was gone. Someone else fixed that. He was too late for it. Always. Too late. And Ros didn’t need him anymore. The one person who might need him.

He wasn’t needed.

He went back to his machines. His numbers.

He starts hearing things.

He knew from the Observers that it should be everyone, universal. It’s not something important.

There’s a roar he hears,, oh well. That’s not his problem.

It’s not,,

Aimsey approached him. Someone else infested. Someone he never saw as his. Not his city, not his to protect.

But they’re in this together. The sounds, the screams, the heartbeat.

It’s not his. It’s not his.

It’s theirs.

[dulcecherub]

Igual Que Un Angel

Chapter Seven

Synopsis: Sofia is pregnant, and the last thing she needs is for Rafe to find out. It’s her dirty secret, it’s not like he’s barging down her door to speak to her. He looks as if he’s done with her for good. Will outside forces, force Sofia to confront the situation at hand. Or will she be able to keep this secret up? Not like, her belly isn’t growing everyday or anything.

Authors Note: thank you so much to @beautyinsteadofashes for the graphic!

MASTERLIST

Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8

Two 1/2 months later

At first, he hadn’t realized she’d been missing. His business deals were becoming more and more complicated. The land he wanted to turn into a building complex, the owners wouldn’t sell. So he had to bite back his losses. He’d been too busy with that, to realize Sofia hadn’t worked in weeks. Months actually. —Not only that, he’d been so busy helping Sarah with her new baby. Little JJ was a hassle. Always crying, always needing to be fed. His diaper changed. Rafe didn’t mind it. But he hadn’t realized how swiped up he’d gotten into all of it. Especially since they were still in a custody battle with Rose. There was a lot on his plate.

He also barely had been showing up to the Pelican Yacht Club.

“Hey Phil.” Rafe says, leaning against the counter. Phil turns, regarding Rafe with a polite smile.

“Hello Mr. Cameron. Do you need anything today? A drink? Foo—”

“I’ll like to know where Sofia is.” Rafe says, a firm smile on his face. It doesn’t reach his eyes. Phil looks around the bar, his eyes reverting back to Rafe.

“She’s not working today.” Phil says, his eyes keeps adverting from Rafe and Rafe can’t help but feel agitated.

“Yes, Phil. I can see that. I’m asking you where she is. Not if she’s here or not.”

Phil sighs, “That’s confidential information, I’m sorry. I can’t give out information like that to patrons.”

“Phil, you’ve known me since I was five. Come on.” Rafe raps his fingers against the counter, but still Phil doesn’t budge.

“Not with this kind of stuff, Rafe. I can’t, I could get fired.” He places back down a saucer he was holding.

“Don’t see it like that. If it’s just between us.”

“I’m sorry, I’m not risking my job. I have three kids.” Phil moves around the counter, walking towards an elderly couple.

“Phil—”

“Rafe, I mean it. Let it go.”

“You have to Sofia! It’ll be so much fun! It’s just a baby shower.”

“Lupit—” Lupita cuts her off, Sofia purses her lips.

“Oh come on, you’ve been hauled up in your house; since you’ve been on maternity leave. You deserve to have some fun too.”

Sofia sat back, gnawing at her bottom lip. She finally met lupitas eyes through the screen.

“Christmas just finished, I don’t want anyone thinking I’m trying to munch off of them. Plus New Years just passed. I don’t want anyone feeling obligated to get me anything. Plus I have—literally no friends. And you live so fa—”

“Well…”

Sofia brows furrowed, she finally sits up. A little bit of a struggle, now that her belly was fully round now.

“Lupita. What aren’t you telling me?” Sofia eyes narrow, as Lupita’s smile widen.

“Guess who’s coming to Kildare?”

“No fucking way. Lupita don’t play with me right now.”

“I’m not! I promise, I’m going to be there soon.” Sofia squealed, Lupita let out a laugh.

“Te extrañando muchísimo.”

“Yo también. Te extrañé muchísimo.” Sofía smiles at her cousin through the screen.

“Don’t worry, you won’t be alone anymore.” Sofia couldn’t help but feel a huge weight lift off her shoulders. “So come on! Baby shower! Baby shower! Baby—”

“Okay, okay!” Sofia laughed, shaking her head. Sofia puts a hand on her stomach, feeling the baby kick. She’s been doing that a lot more lately. Which Sofia was grateful for. It felt nice to have a reminder that she was in there.

“Plus I can help you plan it!” Lupita says, through the screen Sofia can see her shaking with excitement. “You don’t have to even lift a finger. All you have to do is sit there and look pretty; as you open your gifts. It doesn’t have to be a big thing.”

“Hey, I’ll still like to help in some way. What day do you come here?”

“In two days.” Lupita says, grinning. “Oh! I keep forgetting to ask. What’re you naming the baby?”

Sofia stared down at her stomach, “Well, since she came into my life unexpected. And completely turning it inside out.” Sofia hand caressed her swollen belly. “She’s brought a light into my life; that I desperately needed more than anything. I’m naming her Aurora, it means dawn.”

Lupita breath hitches, “Wait, that’s so cute. She’s like the sun in your life.” Sofia eyes prick with tears, nodding as she does so.

“She’s my little dawn. My Aurora.”

Sarah tapped her leg gently as she rocked her baby back and forth. Little Jay, as John B called him, slept soundly asleep against her chest.

“She’s going to use, your past drug addiction against you in court, Rafe.” Sarah lightly patted Little Jays back.

Rafe leaned against the kitchen island, “I’m clean now. Doesn’t that like— amount to something— I’m not on any drugs.”

“I know, I know.” Sarah says, still patting Little Jays back.

Rafe scratched his head, he stared out towards the sliding doors. “This is a lot harder than I thought it would be.”

“Well, you can’t exactly snap your fingers and suddenly we’ll have Wheezie. They’re going to look at everything Rafe. They’re trying to make sure we’re fit to take care of Wheezie.”

Rafe tapped his fingers against the counter, his eyes squinting in thought.

“Am I really the only big factor if we get Wheezie or not?”

Sarah gave him an exasperated look, Rafe rolled his eyes, throwing his hands up.

“Plus your past behavior of violence doesn’t make us look good.”

Rafe eyes squinted, “Look I get it—”Someone opens the front door of the house, they both snap their necks to see Kiara coming in.

“Hi, came to see Little Jay.” She has a warm smile on her face, her eyes lighting up as she spots the little bundle of joy in Sarah’s arms.

“Oh my gosh, Kie! I’m going to pretend like you’re here for me instead of the baby.” Sarah practically glows as she sees her best friend.

Kiara laughs, “Can’t help it that he’s so cute and makes me want to pinch his cheeks.” Rafe regards Kiara with a simple glance. Before walking to the fridge, pulling out a pitcher of water.

He turns, he does a double take at the way both Kiara and Sarah are gawking at him. Mouths wide open.

“I drink water, okay.”

“Me when I lie.” Kiara says sarcastically, causing Rafe to glare at her.

“Okay, I don’t need to take your shit today.” Rafe pours himself a glass of water. Kiara rolls her eyes, as Sarah delicately places Little Jay into her hands. Kiara cradles him into her arms, her eyes now focused on him.

“Rafe.” Sarah scolds. But Rafe keeps drinking his water, agitated now that Kiara is in his house. Rafe continued to roll his eyes, he knows he’s acting childishly. He knows this is the kind of behavior he was trying to change from. But sometimes bad habits died hard.

Plus he was still agitated that Phil had completely dismissed him. Where the hell was Sofia? A part of him knew he shouldn’t care about her anymore. Not after the whole Groff and Hollis situation. But it was nagging at him, that something deeper was going on.

The stress from knowing something was going on. And he had no knowledge of what it was—it was killing him. Then the Wheezie custody battle with Rose.

Then his business deals going south. Rafe rubbed his head, placing the cup of water down briefly. Stress was an understatement on how he felt. He just needed to focus on the things that mattered. Like little Jay, Sarah and getting Wheezie back. His mind briefly wanders to Sofia but he shakes his head.

His thoughts were cut off as Sarah spoke.

“Oh uh Topper told me—”He doesn’t want to hear it, doesn’t want to know what Topper told Sarah. He doesn’t even let her continue as he walks out the room. They’ll talk about Wheezie another time.

January 12 2025

Sofia hugged Lupita, her arms circling around her cousin. Lupita hugged her back, trying to not hug her too tightly. Sofia was starting to secretly dislike how everyone treated her like she was fragile. Thankfully, Jane was such a big help in making her feel comfortable. They talked on the phone a lot more. Sofia always seeking her advice. What kind of diapers do newborns get? What kind of clothes to? From where? Where were the cheaper options? When could she go back to work to take care of her baby?

Sofia let her cousin go, Lupita placed her bag down onto the floor. Lupita scanned Sofia, her eyes going to Sofia’s rounded out belly.

“Your baby bump! Sofia, she’s getting bigger everyday!” Lupita says smiling, her hand going onto Sofias stomach. Lupita giggles as she feels the baby kick.

“She kicks like crazy too.” Lupita shakes her head in glee. Lupita sits down on Sofias bed, staring around.

“You’re doing okay, Sof?” Lupita asks, she pauses briefly, “Your dad—has he come around.”

Sofia stared out her door, “He uh… offered to built me a crib for the baby. From scratch.”

“So he’s warming up to it then?” Sofia shrugs, sitting down carefully on the lazy chair she brought herself.

“He’s coming around to it, I think. He’s been talking to me again. But he doesn’t really mention the baby.” Sofia hand rests once more on her swollen belly. “But a start is a start right?”

Lupita nods, “Oh that reminds me. I already made the flyer for the baby shower. Let me use your email so I can send it to the people you know.”

“A flyer? Lupita, why a flyer? Why emails? No one is going to open those.”

“Please most of our family is old fashioned. I know you and my mom send emails back and forth. And Tia Cassandra too. So hand your phone over.” Lupita gesticulated for Sofia to hand it over. Sofia placed her phone into Lupita’s hand. “Let me just send it to you first and then I’ll send it out as an email to everyone else.”

“Okay.”

Lupita pulled out her phone and began to send the email to Sofia. Then she began to send it to everyone that Sofia had on her email list; on her phone.

“Okay, that’s everyone. The fact that you email our family members is weird, Sof.” Sofia cheeks felt like they were burning.

“Shut up.” She said, ducking a little as her head went inwards. Lupita laughed.

“You freaking nerd.” Lupita approaches her, placing Sofia’s phone back into her hand; kissing her cheek. “Te amo mucho Sofia. You’re going to have the best night of your life. I promise you.”

Sofia smiled up at her cousin, happy that she finally felt less alone. Lupita had a way of always lighting up any room she was in. As childish as her cousin could be. It was nice to know someone had childlike wonder.

“Te amo también.” Sofía lips pursed into a gentle smile. “Now, let’s go see the crib my dads been making in the garage. Come on.” Lupita helps Sofia up from the lazy chair;the both of them; headed towards the garage.

Ruthie sat on her bed, trying to find something to watch on her laptop. She was sick and tired of Topper bitching and moaning about Rafe. It was all he could talk about.

Her laptop pings with a notification from her email. Probably having to do with something she probably didn’t care about. She was tired of her dad trying to get her into his business. She wasn’t one to care about those things. She preferred to just shop, host the galas that she always did. And call it a day. She rolled her eyes, letting out a deep sigh. She groaned, “For fuck sake, can’t I just get a damn break from this shit?”

When she finally clicks on the notification, her eyes widen in surprise. Then narrowed in suspicion. Why was Sofia sending her an email? She hadn’t needed her to cater for her again.

She finally reads the email, she sits up, her eyes scanning the screen quickly. “Holy fuck.” She can’t help the grin that spreads along her face. Can’t help but feel almost triumphant. “Well that explains so much.” Ruthie grins, “Sofia, Sofia, Sofia. Looks like you have one hell of a secret you were trying to hide.” A malicious laugh leaves her lips, she shakes her head.

[joelalorian]

Fall Into Me - Chapter Five: My Whole World Came Alive

dbf!Joel x f!reader

Summary: Joel is hanging on by a thread as a single father to a tenacious 10-year-old Sarah. Feeling like he's drowning, like the world is about to spit him out, he needs some help before he breaks in half. At your dad's insistence, you show up in his life and change everything.

Story is inspired by the song Fall Into Me by Forest Blakk. Chapter titles will be lyrics from the song.

Word Count: 2.9k

Chapter Warnings: Mature, under 18 take a hike. No outbreak AU. Lots of feelings, confusion, and self doubt. Two idiots falling and pining for each other, and finally some progress. Tommy keeps it real. Age gap of about 9 years (Reader 24/25, Joel 33/34). No use of y/n. Reader has a nickname used only by her dad. Emily is modeled after my sister and JB is based on my dad, who used to try setting me up with his younger work buddies when I was in my 20s :)

Dividers by the wonderful @saradika-graphics

Thank you all for reading! Comments and reblogs make me weep with gratefulness.

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Chapter Four | Main Masterlist

Sitting in Phil’s Icehouse with juicy burgers and drinks – you insisted Joel try a mimosa – conversation flowed between the two of you. Joel found his lips twitching into a smile at nearly every word that came out of your mouth. He was fascinated with the stories you shared of your college years, and he listened, completely enraptured, to your plans for the future. Every bit of your lunch together felt like a date. He wondered if you felt the same, yet he couldn’t find the courage to ask outright.

“Yeah, so, I have a meeting at Sarah’s school this week for a possible position. Remember that interview I mentioned a few weeks back? It went really well and now they want me to meet with the teacher who’s retiring and the principal,” you explained, sipping at your mimosa. “I’m pretty excited.”

Joel’s eyes lit up. He’d forgotten that you were looking at a position at Sarah’s school. “Wow, that’s great, darlin’. This would be for a science teacher position, right?”

“Yep. Middle grade science.” The beaming smile you flashed him nearly blinded Joel. “Wanna know the best part? If I get this job, I’ll have the same hours as Sarah, give or take a bit, so I can continue with the school drop-off and pickup for you. She might have to stay later with me somedays, but it’ll still work.”

Nodding, Joel’s mind was flashing lightyears forward, picturing you calling his house home and taking Sarah to school with you, coming home to have dinner together, watching TV in the evenings. Heart thudding in his chest at just the thought of you living together, Joel shook himself. He had to slow his mind down, put the brakes on those kinds of thoughts until after you were actually dating him, at least.

“You could be Sarah’s science teacher in a few years, huh?” Joel asked, focusing once again on listening to you instead of drifting off into daydreams.

“Could be, yeah,” you laughed. “I imagine she’d be my favorite student.”

He beamed at that. Conversation shifted to other things and soon your meals were finished.

“We should do this again,” you said, glassy eyes meeting his across the table, lips curved in a gentle smile. “I really enjoyed spending time with you, Joel.”

Fighting the urge to grab your hand and entangle your fingers, Joel smiled back. “Yeah, me too.” He wanted to kick himself for not saying more, for not asking you out for a real date. He just couldn’t find his words.

How was it that you made him so nervous?

Joel spent the next week in some kind of weird liminal space between a dream and reality, between agonizing confusion and utter happiness. Lunch with you on Sunday felt like a date – he asked you with the intention of it being a date, even if you didn’t know that yet. He spent the week thinking about that lunch, how you teased each other, laughed, shared stories of your past. How your gazes locked for longer than necessary, touches lingered, the smiles never fell from your faces.

It was wonderful, yet nothing was said of what it all meant – which was his fault, probably. Hence the roller coaster of feelings throughout the week.

He could tell you felt it, too. Doing as Tommy suggested, he started paying close attention to how you acted around him, how you looked at him when you thought he wasn’t looking. It was all starting to come together. He could finally see what Tommy was talking about.

You liked him. You really liked him, Joel Miller, overworked single father.

It was a wonderful feeling, knowing that someone liked him. It’d been way too long since he felt that way, that spark of hope for something more.

For the first time in a long time, he slept well the night before and woke early, eager to face the day and see you before heading off to work. He was already out front, filling a birdfeeder Sarah asked for, when you arrived.

“Good mornin’, darlin’,” he greeted, pulling the car door open for you once you parked in the driveway. His heart skipped a beat at the way you smiled up at him, taking his hand to help you out of the car. Your touch electric on his roughened palm.

“Hiya, Joel.” Your voice washed over him, warm as honey and twice as sweet. “Whatcha doing out here?’

Gesturing to the red barn-style feeder Sarah picked, he finished filling it with the wild bird seed the clerk insisted birds loved. “Just fillin’ our new birdfeeder.”

“Oh, what a cute feeder!” You admired the intricate features as it hung from the post Joel installed. “Sarah has been talking nonstop about birds this week. Hopefully we’ll see some good ones.”

“Hope so,” Joel hummed in return. “Don’t know much about birds personally, but I’m sure Sarah’ll teach me.” Your smile brightened at his sheepish grin.

“I have a bird guide I could give her to help identify all the different types that visit the feeder.” Your face lit up with excitement. “I even have binoculars from when I took an ornithology class in undergrad. I’ll bring them when I pick up Sarah this afternoon.”

“Orna what now?” Joel questioned. He had no idea what kind of class you were talking about, but he loved how smart you were.

“Ornithology,” you repeated, drawing out each syllable with a soft giggle. “It’s the study of birds. It was a really cool class. We had field trips around campus once a week to go bird watching. I got pretty good at naming the different species that we saw, but it’s been a while.”

In awe of you, Joel’s eyes crinkled with the strength of his grin. “Would you, uh, maybe want to go on an adventure with us tomorrow?” he asked, stumbling a bit over his words, a nervous energy welling up in his gut as he once again sort of asked you out. “We could go for a hike in the county park, and you could teach us about birds.”

You gazed at him, lips pursed in thought, for long enough that Joel began to fidget, brimming with recurring doubt. Did he misinterpret the signs after all? He wouldn’t be surprised. He wasn’t any good at this stuff anymore. You responded before he could spiral back into the land of self-doubt. “That sounds great, Joel. I’d love to.”

A visceral relief washed through him. “It’s a date then,” he said, his voice deep and rough while his dark chocolate eyes locked with yours. A satisfied smirk graced his lips as your eyebrows rose in surprise. Too quickly, doubt clouded your pretty eyes, and you laughed it off like he was teasing you. Joel sighed. He would be more direct next time. He’d get the hang of asking a woman on a date again someday. Hopefully.

“We’ll have to go early, is that okay? Birds are more active in the early morning hours,” you explained, heading for the door to find Sarah.

“That’s fine. We’ll make a day of it, grab lunch somewhere when we’re done.” Joel followed you into the house, already plotting out conversations in his head on how to properly ask you on a date.

The rest of the day went by in a blur for Joel and before he knew it, the job was finished, and it was only mid-afternoon when he arrived home. You pulled into the driveway with Sarah shortly after him and he came down from taking a shower to find the pair of you on the living room floor playing a racing video game.

“Hi Daddy!” Sarah exclaimed as he kissed the top of her head and took a seat on the couch. It didn’t take long before Sarah asked him to play as well and the three of you were taking turns racing against each other, laughing when one of you crashed.

There were moments, when your gaze would connect with Joel’s and he’d swear you shared the same thought – this was how it could be if you were together, a family.

“Do you want to stay for pizza? Tommy and your dad are coming over,” Joel asked when Sarah’s attention focused elsewhere.

“We have an early morning ahead of us, Miller. Don’t be up late partying with the guys,” you replied with a smile that reached your twinkling eyes. “I’ll stay for a bit, but then I need to go dig out the old binoculars and get my beauty sleep.”

“You’re already beautiful,” he murmured, watching your eyes widen as you smile demurely.

“You say the sweetest things, Joel.” Your voice held a teasing tone that drove Joel nuts. How was he ever going to convince you that he was serious?

Shortly thereafter, Tommy arrived, pizza and beer in hand. “Come on, Millers! I come bearing gifts. JB here yet?”

“I’m right here, ya troglodyte,” your dad called from the front yard, stepping up the porch steps as Tommy whirled around.

“What the hell did you just call me?”

“A troglodyte. Learned it from Spud and thought it fitting since you don’t close doors behind you.” He winked at you as he teased the younger Miller brother. Placing a kiss on your cheek, he added, “Hey Spud, haven’t seen you in a bit. Must be working too hard. Miller! You workin’ my daughter too hard?”

Joel spluttered. He was too busy gazing at you to pay much attention to JB and feared he got busted. “I hardly think so,” he grumbled, fighting the blush he knew rose to his cheeks.

“Ah, in the same ol’ grumpy mood, I see. Maybe this’ll help.” Your dad placed a 12-pack of Joel’s favorite beer on the coffee table before taking a seat in the recliner he always chose at Joel’s place.

The five of you sat around the living room, eating pizza with beer for the men and sodas for you and Sarah. The conversation revolved mainly around construction work, and you ended up taking your leave before the sun dipped below the horizon. Your dad followed not long after, eager to relax in his own well-worn recliner.

“Alright, nugget. It’s time for bed. We have an early morning tomorrow,” Joel said, swinging the young girl over his shoulder much to her delight. “Say goodnight to Uncle Tommy.”

“G’night Uncle Tommy,” Sarah squealed as Joel tickled her sides.

“G’night nugget.”

Always a good kid, Sarah went right to bed after brushing her teeth, but not before pestering Joel about why they had to get up early on a Saturday. Pressing a loving kiss to her forehead, Joel tucked her in. “We’re going on a surprise adventure. Now, to sleep with you.”

Returning to the living room, Tommy handed him another beer as the brothers watched Sportscenter. “Have you made any progress yet?” Tommy asked.

Matching dark eyes met as Joel shrugged. He knew his brother was talking about you. “Some, I guess. Told ya I took her to lunch on Sunday and that felt a lot like a date. I asked her to go on a hike with me and Sarah tomorrow. I told her it was a date after she agreed, but she thought I was jokin’.” He paused, taking a long pull from the bottle of beer. “Then, this afternoon, I told her she was beautiful and again she thought I was teasing.”

Swirling the bottle of beer in his hand, Tommy shook his head and chuckled. “She’s givin’ you a run for your money, brother. Good on her.”

“Good on her,” Joel mocked, but his tone quickly turned to pleading. “I need more advice. Surely you got something up your sleeve for women like her.”

“Nah, brother. The only way to get someone like her is to be yourself and keep chipping away. It’s clear she has as much self-doubt as you do, so it’ll take her time to believe you’re for real.” Tommy eyed his brother a moment as he mulled over the situation. “Though, I will say this. You need to start bein’ direct – come right out and ask her on a date, for fuck’s sake. Enough hinting at shit. It’s clearly gettin’ you nowhere.”

You arrived on the Millers’ doorstep bright and early the next morning, two travel mugs of coffee and a container of chocolate milk in hand. A pair of binoculars and Sibley’s Guide to Birds were tucked away in the bag you wore over your shoulder.

“Wakey, wakey, Millers! The early bird gets the worm!”

Joel and Sarah were perched at the breakfast bar when you let yourself in, both looking half awake and less than enthusiastic about being up so early on a Saturday.

“Too damn cheerful for this early,” Joel grumbled half-heartedly. His pitiful smile looked more like a grimace, yet you found it adorable. It made you ache to run your fingers through his hair until you drew a real smile from his lips.

“Don’t gimme that. This was your idea, Joel Miller!” you sassed in return, patting his broad shoulders. “Let’s go!”

Herding cats, that was the perfect analogy to describe the next fifteen minutes as you tried to get the Millers moving and into Joel’s truck. Just when you’d get one heading for the door, the other would disappear. Finally, you managed to wrangle them both into the truck and you were well on your way to the preserve. The ride didn’t take long, Sarah peppering you with questions about birds she found in your guidebook as Joel drove. By the time Joel pulled into a parking spot at the entrance to the trails, everyone was wide awake and ready to hike.

The morning was crisp and refreshing as you zipped up your jacket and looked around. You’d never been to this preserve before and wanted to find a trail map, but the mini-Miller was too anxious to wait for that.

“I can hear the birds chirping already, Daddy! Come on!” Sarah exclaimed, charging toward the first trail excitedly.

Joel beamed as Sarah took off, turning to you before following her. “Ready?” He reached out a hand, palm up and fingers splayed, inviting you to grasp it.

Your eyes trailed from his outstretched hand to his heavy gaze, uncertain of what to make of the signals Joel gave off. The feelings you harbored for the man grew stronger each day, yet you couldn’t quite get a read on whether he shared even a fraction of those feelings. Somedays, you thought he did. Yet others, you figured he thought you had a crush on him and found amusing. Your heart sunk on those days, causing the doubt to linger every time he did something to make you think otherwise.

The moment carried on too long, you realized, as Joel’s warm eyes began to shutter, the tender smile starting to slip. Bolstering your nerves, you plunged ahead and grasped his large hand in yours, tangling your fingers with his thicker ones. His hand was warm, skin roughened from years of working with his hands, and it felt wonderful against your smoother skin.

Heat flashed up your chest and neck as Joel led you down the trail to catch up with Sarah. A broad smile never left your lips as you walked.

“I meant it, you know,” Joel’s deep, gruff voice rumbled from deep in his chest and you glanced up to meet his gaze. “What I said yesterday, about this being a date. If that’s something you’re interested in.”

Heart thumping wildly, your mouth opened and closed a few times before you found your words. “Are you sure? I mean, yes. Yes, I’m interested.” You winced at how flustered you sounded, tripping over your words. And, worse yet, why was your voice so squeaky?

“Never been surer in my life,” Joel confirmed, his gaze searing your skin as he watched you, taking in every minute change in expression. His hand squeezed yours gently, steadying the butterflies in your stomach.

“I would really like that,” you replied breathlessly, relieved to finally have confirmation that the moments between you and Joel weren’t all in your head. You were on Cloud 9 until reality smacked you in the face. “But what about my dad?”

Sarah popped around a copse of live oaks, startling you both from. “Come on, you slow pokes! The birdies aren’t gonna wait all day for us to find them!” Not trusting you both to follow her on your own, the little girl latched on to your hand and pulled you along the trail. “You need to help me find the birds,” Sarah reminded you.

Joel’s hand still clasped in yours, you dragged him behind you, grinning over your shoulder at him. “I’m liking this date already, Joel.”

He beamed back at you. The three of you walked in silence for a bit, listening to the sounds of nature around you. When you spotted a bird blind, you handed Sarah the binoculars and the guidebook, challenging her to identify as many birds as she could from that spot. Joel stood next to you, watching Sarah enjoy the activity.

“Let’s see where this goes first before we worry about your dad,” he murmured. “I’d like to take you on a few dates first, okay?”

It made sense and you nodded, pleased at the way things were working out. Your hand remained in Joel’s throughout the birding adventure and though Sarah never mentioned it, her smile grew wide at the sight.

tbc

p.s. we should start building up to the good stuff in the next chapter.

Taglist: @mellymbee @untamedheart81 @anoverwhelmingdin @runningmom94 @leilanixx @pedropascalfan221 @lovelyjess69 @sarahhxx03 @sofiparallel @tammythr @lulawantmula @islacharlotte @allyourfavesinoneblog @lover-of-books-and-tea @pedropascalsbbg @ashleyfilm @brittmb115 @lilmizmoz @loveisacowboyyy @shotgun-shelby @deninoe @casssiopeia @caitlynsixxx

[reveluving]

mother knows best ; phillip graves x reader x jeff sadecki

summary: mama knows love when she sees one. or three. 

warnings: mostly Phil & Jeff’s mom’s POV, mentions of angst (teen!Jeff cheating but not on you, family fights, parents passing away), very tiny allusions to s~mut (minors DNI!), loads of fluff towards the end, Mama Denise is yours and her boys’ number one fan 🩷

a/n: thought I’d use this chance to write this after this ask! this is based on this lil' post! I know Jeff’s mom is named Linda but this is about him and Phil, a.k.a. my mind, so say hello to Mama Denise! pls don’t forget to leave some sugar! ᐠ( ᐛ )ᐟ

» interested in more of the series? find it here & here!

Denise Baker has always been a sweet lady. The epitome of a Southern’s hospitality. Married twice, first to a man named Danny Sadecki, then the second being Tom Graves after Danny passed away. They were good people. The best, feeling grateful each day for giving her the best gifts a hopeful mother could ever ask for. 

Two amazing boys. 

Keeping their last names rather than changing them to her maiden name was instinctive. At a one-year-plus age gap, Phil took after his mother’s Southern twang whereas Jeff followed his stepfather’s general American accent. They grew to be one happy family, and the brothers, despite their differences in interests and personality, would fight tooth and nail for one another.

But since Tom’s passing, the boys have been less lively, and understandably so. No matter how well they hid their sadness behind innocent smiles each time their mother was in the room, she could see right through them. She didn’t know what she did to earn such sweet boys, always attentive to their Mama at a young age, but she had always hoped to see the fire in them return someday.

That was until they met you. 

You and Phil were the same age, just beginning middle school with his brother somewhere a little further from the Bakers’ than the town’s high school.

The brothers had been waiting for their mother to pick them up when you slid next to Phil in the waiting chair. It was raining cats and dogs in Wiskayok, so you had to squeeze yourself into the bus stop to avoid getting drenched.

“Sorry,” You squeaked with a guilty smile when your shoulders touched.

Phil was beyond the age of believing in cooties, plus, he and Jeff were a mama’s boy, and she didn’t raise a woman (girl?)-hater. 

“S’okay.” His smile was half-hearted, a little miffed that he couldn’t get to the stand in time when it began raining, and at this point, Jeff had noticed your sudden presence. They’ve seen you before, especially Phil. You always sat in front of him in class, mostly seen with full of life and blinding smile with a missing tooth. 

“Your mom’s coming late, too?” Phil knew he didn’t have to make the conversation any longer than he’d like, but he had no reason to do that with you. You were so… nice, and yet, so respectful. Always giving him a wave instead of barging into his personal space bubble like a lot of his classmates did.

Plus, his mother was already thirty minutes late, what was there to lose?

“Yeah. My brother and I have been waitin’ for a lil’ while,” He replied with a shrug, pausing for a second before asking, “You?”

“Yeah, same,” You responded, though more lighthearted than he was, kicking your feet as you looked at the road, “It’s okay, though. Mom’s always busy. They’re probably tired. So long I’m not alone here, I’m not scared to wait for my mom.”

There you go, with your smile again. Phil couldn’t help but smile back, it was tiny but you could see the slight quirk of his lips. Jeff, too, found your positivity infectious and had been listening.

He had joined in on the conversation moments after. It was fairly light, with Jeff doing most of the talking, but that didn’t mean Phil wasn’t listening and chiming in once in a while. It wasn’t until fifteen minutes later when Denise came, rushing over to her boys with an umbrella and endless apologies. 

You were ready to say goodbye to the two and resume waiting on your own when Denise approached you with a motherly look. 

“Hi, darlin,” She crouched in front of you, with Jeff and Phil at a perfect height as they stood under her umbrella, “I’m Denise, Jeffrey and Phillip’s mama. What’s your name?”

You were a lot shyer with her, considering she was an adult, but you trusted her enough with your name since you kinda knew his youngest. 

“That’s a beautiful name,” Even with the heavy rain, her soft-spoken voice was hard to miss, “D’you know when y’mama will come pick you up?”

You shook your head, telling her that with your mother working at a busy cafe, it could vary. And like you told the boys, you were alright with waiting rather than daring to walk home since the bus stop was always full. Still, Denise, ever the kind-hearted woman, offered to drive you to your mother’s workplace. 

Denise understood that you were wary and good on you for being careful, but to her surprise, Jeff and Phil were nice enough to reassure you. And whether you agreed because of their mother’s gentleness, Jeff’s natural talent to make you feel comfortable with all three of them or even the hint of promise in Phil’s eyes that everything was going to be fine, Denise was glad you did. 

Your mother was extremely thankful, even offered to pay for their lunch for their next visit, but Denise refused and with the two becoming fast friends just as you were with Jeff and Phil, the rest was history.

Though, high school was… eventful, to say the least. While the two of you remained close, almost joined at the hip, you and Phil sometimes preferred backing off as Jeff’s popularity grew. Not that Jeff’s behaviour changed with the two of you, he was still the dorky, good-willed boy you knew.  

Although you and Phil may have fought a little with Jeff when he told you about his cheating on Jackie with Shauna. He broke up with Jackie soon after, but his decision to stay with Shauna may or may not have affected your friendship. You and his brother weren’t too keen on the idea of their own friend/brother being a cheater after all. 

Jeff especially hated it when it rocked what the two of you had. He was dumb enough to think ending up with Shauna or Jackie would make him forget his interest in you, and surprise surprise, it didn’t. The three of you stayed close friends, though he promised never to bring up about Shauna around you or Phil at all.

And then, high school ended. 

Phil’s decision to leave town for the Marines was not only the biggest shock to the neighbourhood but especially to his own family. Not that he didn’t have the means to be one, if anything, his mother and brother knew he’d be one of, if not, the best ones out there. He just never expressed his interest in military work at all. 

Throughout their years as a family, Mama had never seen the two fight so badly until Jeff discovered that Phil had been considering leaving Wiskayok, leaving their mother after they both finished community college. Though their fall-out didn’t last long, no more than two weeks, especially when their mother expressed her worries and sadness over their rocky relationship. 

Plus, Jeff didn’t want what strong bond he had with his brother to end just like that. He cared for his brother too much, and in their moment of vulnerability, he apologized for not doing more in their high school years. When some of his peers saw his little brother as his shadow rather than a person. Phil insisted that he barely cared about them, even flat out said they weren’t necessarily his friends unless it had to do anything with football. 

They hugged it out, and Mama was over the moon. Suddenly, the thought of Phil leaving for the military wasn’t as difficult, knowing that her boys were still going to keep in touch, and on a high note, no less.

He spent his last month in Wiskayok with you and your mother with the most mundane of things. 

But oh, how Mama’s emotions dipped when you, too, left shortly after your mother passed away. 

She couldn’t put it past you for doing so. How could she, when you’ve been nothing but an angel? A one in a million and she’d be damned if she convinced you to stay like a bird in a cage. As much as she and Jeff would love to, insisting that there was something for you in town, but just like with Phil, they didn’t. It was far too selfish of them, and you had so much potential. 

And as thankful as Mama was to have Jeff by her side at all times, there was someone else.

Shauna.

Shauna never sat right with her, no matter how far she was ‘willing’ to go to get to know her future mother-in-law better. Though the smile she brought out of Jeff was nowhere near as big or as wholesome as he was with you, there was a hint of guilt for feeling the way she did. Hoping you’d end up with one of her sons. 

But she wasn’t the only one thinking as such, but Jeff felt that he had lost his chance when you left.

So, he carried himself again to be a better person, especially when he truly believed Shauna was the one, much to his mother’s disbelief. Hell, she’d seen bigger smiles from him when he was with that Jackie girl before they broke up.

But her boy was insistent. 

Maybe, for once, her mother’s intuitions were wrong. 

And as the days went by, the possibility of Jeff putting a ring on Shauna grew higher, Mama did her best to accept her as her own. The two were civil at best, and no doubt that was enough for the two. 

But the years grew dull for the Sadeckis, and the second Jeff came knocking on his mother’s door at two in the morning, his wife not in sight, she knew she should’ve done more to stop what they had. 

It began with petty arguments, with Jeff being the one apologizing to Shauna, despite knowing she was in the wrong or if she began the fight in the first place. Then it became quarrels, something about her nonexistent book club when in reality, she had been meeting up with a man named Adam. 

Each time Mama received a call from her eldest, telling her that he and his wife ‘needed space’, she’d cook up a nice meal and make sure his old room was ready with the amenities he needed.

If it weren’t for Jeff’s attempts to calm his mother down, telling her it wasn’t worth the trouble, she would’ve marched down to Shauna’s front door and knocked some sense into her with a rolling pin. How dare she point her finger at Jeff, attempting to invalidate her own faults by saying it was him who cheated first during their years of marriage, thus, giving her the green light to do the same. 

Although yes, Jeff has done it once, when he cheated on Jackie, he regretted it. Immensely, especially seeing the disappointment in his mother’s face. Oh, how he apologized to her like he had committed the biggest sin of all, and frankly, he did. And though his mother was dismayed by his dishonesty, she knew when any of her boys truly regretted something.

Boy, never has he wished for things to turn out differently and still, he wanted to work things out, when he tried to show his mother what he saw in Shauna.

And she did, but she didn’t see what she or Jeff hoped she’d saw. The final straw was when his wife—his ex-wife disrespected his mother in her own house. He had given her many chances, forgiving her more times than he could count, but he could not stand for her raising her voice at his beloved mother. 

Denise had every right to feel grateful when the divorce happened, but that didn't mean she openly celebrated it in front of her son. But Phil was different, even went as far as having a congratulatory gift sent to their doorstep since he was still on duty. Despite knowing his brother was rolling in dough with his line of work, Jeff couldn’t help but gawk at the gifts, much to his mother’s amusement. A set of cashmere sweaters that probably cost anywhere from half to one grand, complete with a few bottles of fragrances and even one of the finest reds to commemorate the moment. Plus, a personalized rose-gold bracelet for Mama because why wouldn’t he want to spoil her at any given chance?

And though he and his mother did enjoy a few sips after moving back into the Bakers’ house, he couldn’t help but wonder how you were doing.

But he didn’t have to wait for long.

The day you and Phil returned to Wiskayok, standing in front of Mama’s door, she nearly dropped to her knees. Not only has she missed her youngest boy, despite his efforts in calling and texting and visiting in secret each time his deployment ended, but she most certainly missed you, too. It was your first time visiting since the very day you left, after all. Phil didn’t take it to heart when his mother scolded him for not telling her that the two of you were colleagues and maybe were together.

In reality, though, she had a feeling that you were still around. Closer than what you made them believe.

There were days when Phil had a chance to call his mother, and she’d suddenly bring you up. Wondering aloud if you were alright, how life was treating you in God knows where, and somehow, Phil’s confidence in his responses, telling her that he was certain you were doing well, she believed him. Word for word. As if she knew he was with you throughout your journey to find yourself, just like he did.

And she’d be right when the universe reunited you and Phil on the battlefield. When Shadow Company joined forces with 141 and Los Vaqueros, not expecting to find the girl of his dreams amongst the chaos and in those years, you laughed, you smiled, you wept and you released yourself for him and him alone. Finally acknowledging what the two of you were afraid to address as teenagers all those years ago.

Phil couldn’t imagine bringing his walls down for someone other than you and though like with everyone else, he still kept up the proud and almost infuriating act, no one else had the privilege to see the more caring, affectionate side of him except for you.

But Mama wasn't the only one surprised by the revelation.

On the first night of your arrival, Jeff didn't talk much, instead, hanging on to your every word. From the very moment you reached the city alone for the first time, till the very day you carried yourself into your team and reunited with Phil. How you even remembered the gifts you were meaning to give him and their mother in the middle of the conversation. And as the night fell, you insisted on booking a hotel not far from the neighbourhood.

Oh, how Mama has missed the old days when she'd tell you to stay over, making sure to call your mother about your whereabouts. While she wouldn’t dream of replacing your mother, it was understandable how her attentiveness for you has skyrocketed, now that she knew you and his son were coming over much more often. 

Still, she had conditions, eyeing Phil with a knowing look before telling him that you’d be staying in the guestroom. Still spick and span for hopeful days like these. Phil's cheeky smile was worth a thousand words, knowing his mother had caught on to what type of little games the two of you played. Her eye-roll was good-natured, even letting out a hearty laugh when she caught the embarrassed look on your face.

Throughout your stay, she saw how your relationship with Phil blossomed, and how the more-than-friendly feelings between you and Jeff were beginning to rekindle. How her sons’ true emotions—their true colours were showing in that same very house as it always did, as if nothing had changed. Mama knew there was something more to the loving looks they’d give you whenever you looked away.

And when she saw the three of you hanging out and sitting close in the backyard patio, watching the stars and laughing over a stupid stunt one of them had done as kids, she knew that you and her boys were going to be A-ok.

˚ · . f i n . · ˚

a/n: we love mama denise. ;; gorgeous rose divider by @firefly-graphics ♡

[phanfictioncatalogue]

Domestic (8) Masterlist

part one, part two, part three, part four, part five, part six, part seven

A Perfect Macro (ao3) - scaryfangirl2001

Summary: When Phil doesn't answer his texts, Dan searches for him and finds a work of art

A Shared Melody (ao3) - httphowell

Summary: After a couple glasses of wine, Dan and Phil lounge on the couch in their cozy living room, the late-night silence broken when Phil softly asks, “Play something for me on the piano?” Dan smiles, getting up, and as his fingers gently dance across the keys

A winter day in the life (ao3) - Frog910

Summary: It's Christmas! Dan and Phil have a cozy day filming at Christmas.

An Evening in the Phouse (ao3) - p4stmybedtime

Summary: Phil turned around to dry his hands on a tea towel and saw Dan gently swaying to the music when he got an idea.

"Wanna dance?" He asked and reached a hand out to the other man.

Dan chuckled shyly but took Phil's hand in his own, “Now who’s the soppy one?” He asked.

“Shuddup, I hate you” Phil mumbled into Dan's neck as he felt Dan's other hand splay out on his back, holding him close as they stepped in time to the slow beat (and occasionally on one another’s toes).

Phil wracked his brain for a place he felt safer than in Dan's arms but came up with nothing.

another day of sun (ao3) - blossomsphan

Summary: breakfast together, 12 years apart.

Christmas at the Lester's (ao3) - trashcanfromgallifrey

Summary: Inspired by Dan and Phil telling us about the pre-christmas visit at Phil’s parents<3

A quite fluffy fic that also goes into themes of finding safety in Phil’s family when they were closeted.

disinterest in what the critics say (ao3) - pour_bot_hem2009

Summary: "I wish you could see yourself through my eyes. You wouldn't even know what to think."

Phil doesn't normally let rude comments online bother him, but they really start getting to him one night

Duneussy (and other ways to say I love you) (ao3) - Lesbianphan

Summary: Dan's thoughts after his 33rd birthday livestream on DanandPhilGAMES, featuring the Dune bucket

fuck being remembered, i think i was made for you (ao3) - cutekai

Summary: valentine’s day in the phouse

Go out with a bang as it were (ao3) - natigail

Summary: The cursor was mocking Dan as he was trying to work on his Terrible Influence Tour script and he kept getting distracted thinking about his life with Phil and the relationship with their audience. Until Phil showed up with water, stole his laptop, made him faint and promised to love him for 100 years.

Have I told you lately, I’m grateful you’re mine (ao3) - phasamtasie

Summary: Phil is struggling with feeling like a burden on a day of strong migraines and Dan helps him feel at peace with accepting being taken care of.

I know you, hands under my sweatshirt (ao3) - midorijpg

Summary: “How are you?”

It's with an undertone of fear that he dares ask that, as always, even if he knows that he’s lucky if Dan even decides to answer. And as he imagines, Dan just tilts his head, looking at him as if lost in thought, swinging the bottle with his hand before just resting it on the floor.

“Make room,” he just says.

“What?”

“I said, make room.”

or, something something about having bad days and growing up and realizing you don't (completely) fit in couches anymore.

I Love You, I’m Sorry (ao3) - httphowell

Summary: While cleaning the house, Phil discovers a shoebox filled with letters he and Dan exchanged during their time apart at the start of their relationship—when Phil was at university and Dan was in Reading. Some are lighthearted, others deeply personal, but one holds a message Dan never had the courage to send.

I only want sympathy in the form of you, crawling into bed with me (ao3) - LovesAGhost

Summary: Dan falls asleep while watching Phil play Final Fantasy, he doesn't mind though.

idgaf (because it saved me) (ao3) - gaydreaming

Summary: When Dan sits down at his piano, he doesn't expect to put so much emotional vulnerability onto the page. But TATINOF had a song. Introverts had a song. Terrible Influences needs a song. And, more importantly, Dan and Phil need to figure out how exactly they plan to take back what the internet took from them.

in simpler terms: i can't stop thinking about the fact that they occasionally write songs together so i wrote a fic about it.

Mornings With You (ao3) - httphowell

Summary: Dan sitting on the kitchen counter, legs spread wide as he watches Phil make coffee, a subtle smirk on his lips. Every time Phil’s back is turned, Dan slowly slides his hand up his shirt, teasing him without saying a word.

no machine (ao3) - blossomsphan

Summary: dip and pip return home after the american leg of the tit tour. just a soft, loving fluffy thing <3

One more? (ao3) - dipnpip

Summary: Dan and Phil have a cozy winter visit with the Lesters after tour. They get a little tipsy and sweet. <3

Origins of the Phass Inflation Post (Dan and Phil in Greece) (ao3) - EverythingIsAsItWas

Summary: Dan and Phil rarely take vacations just for themselves, vacations in which they make no content, do not work, and simply enjoy each other's company. Going to Greece feels like the perfect opportunity for this, but Phil also thinks it's the perfect opportunity for a video... and Dan likes being a little shit.

phuture phusbands (ao3) - N_Chu4Ever

Summary: Dan’s opinions on weddings are pretty clear — marriage is piece of paper with some benefits, and organising a big fucking wedding is exhausting, and really, Phil, do we need it? Do we? The answer, of course, is no, and yet Phil is still thinking about it. As Dab and Evan’s Sims 4 wedding approaches, that thought process goes into overdrive.

Or: Phil proposes to Dan just after the Devan wedding is filmed.

Remote Crisis Manager (ao3) - sexy_ghost_star (sepia_sigyn)

Summary: “You’re playing Debussy.”

“I am.”

“Does that mean you want-”

“Da bussy,” they say in unison.

sleepy hog (ao3) - ShiwiSins (IetjeSiobhan)

Summary: It takes him a moment of disoriented, sleepy blinking to realise the noise he’s missing is Phil’s snoring.

Or: a semi-sleepless night on tour with Dan and Phil.

snooze (ao3) - phook

Summary: dan helps phil dye his hair

some of the most normal pictures (ao3) - natigail

Summary: Phil took many photos of Dan. It was second nature. To capture this life that they shared and this man that he got to share it with. Each moment precious, captured when Dan was his most relaxed and at ease. And they're completely normal. Of course.

*Behind the scenes look at each of the photos from this year's birthday tweet from Phil to Dan*

stop the world i wanna get off with you (ao3) - manchesterau

Summary: A domestic night in the life of Phil the vampire and Dan the witch.

The Death of Day In the Life: Dan and Phil in 2025 (ao3) - gaydreaming

Summary: In 2025, the Day In the Life series has been retired. It took them a while, but Dan and Phil have realized that maintaining boundaries with their audience is an enormous part of maintaining their own peace and health. This is not to imply that Dan and Phil's life in 2025 isn't worth waxing poetic about.

The Habit of Confidence (ao3) - howell_slide

Summary: The first time he saw Sister Daniel, Phil had to say a little prayer.

Or, how Phil really feels about Sister Daniel.

they offered comfort, but comfort isn't you (ao3) - fastforwardty

Summary: Today wasn't going to be a good day.

But it had to be.

In which Dan wakes up feeling depressed and Phil loves to tell stories.

waiting up (ao3) - pensieveity

Summary: dan falls asleep in his chair editing. the next morning, phil has a (not so) serious conversation about them needing to a video editor to help out.

You can take anything from the wardrobe (ao3) - FourEyedM0nster

Summary: “How long are they going to be there for?”

“Til the middle of the afternoon at least.”

“Fuck.”

Dan let out another whine. If he hadn’t gone to bed with Phil last night maybe he would still have the rights to his own bedroom.

“What time is Neil coming to cut your hair?” Dan said finally still slightly croaky from waking up.

“Oh shit yeah, like twelve I think.” Phil remembered he had to sit down and film a bit for a video. He was planning on changing his hair from the quiff he had been sporting for the last five years. He had put out a TikTok with the help of Dan asking his followers for recommendations and they did not disappoint. He just needed to do a video reacting to some of the suggestions before Neil came round.

Dan had just flopped back down onto the bed.

“Why are we doing this today?!” He whined.

You wanna kiss me so bad it makes you look stupid (ao3) - dead_little_lamb19

Summary: Dan is just fucking tired after the tour and stressed about their new plans for life. It results in a little fight between him and Phil on a Friday evening. But Phil always gets his way.

You've got a squeak-ret admirer (ao3) - skygremlin

Summary: When Phil's going to make himself breakfast, he finds a cute little Valentine's card on the kitchen counter. And then another, and another, and another...

your love is my drug (ao3) - antiadvil

Summary: Phil wakes up with a migraine.

[cyncerity]

I saw you asking for stuff. Could u do a ghost Tommy and ghost hunters sbi with ranboo? safe vore. Tommy is an old soldier ghost. He died protecting is group and the town don't remember his name just his story. feel free to do what u want to it

I took some tiny liberties with this, but this idea has been infecting my brain for days now so i hope you like it!!

tw: soft, safe vore, talk of suicide, character death (duh it’s ghosts)

Ranboo sat in the back of his family’s van, pressing lightly on his stomach as he felt a few marbles come back into his mouth before he swallowed them back down again, as he’d been doing for a few hours at this point. Machinery rattled in the back of the van; different cameras, scanners, and other ghost hunting stuff. Ranboo had been in this game for a few years, when he met his adoptive family Phil and Techno. They met him at his group home and realized he was something special, and something that could definitely help with their less than normal job.

Ranboo grew up lonely. They never knew their birth parents, as they were given up as a baby. So what did lonely kids do? Well, in Ranboo’s case, learn magic! That would surely make them cool! They became good with cards, regurgitation, and slight of hand, cause what else were they supposed to do with their time? They very quickly learned that the others kids didn’t find any of that cool, and they were only pushing potential friends farther away. Eventually, they set their sights on a family, but that didn’t seem to be going well either. Ranboo lost almost all hope of being adopted by the time they were a teenager. Until one day when he met Phil and Techno. Two best friends (they had to make it very clear to the adoption agency that no, they were not gay, Phil had a girlfriend, they just wanted a kid together cause fuck it why not, which in Ranboo’s opinion made perfect sense). These two were weird. Like, really weird. And Ranboo loved them immediately.

They were professional ghost hunters (which almost made the adoption agency kick them out, they had to call Phil’s girlfriend Kristin to verify that she had a stable job and was supplying Phil and Techno with enough money to properly take care of a child) and were looking for another member of their troupe. Ranboo believed in ghosts wholeheartedly, and was ecstatic when they showed genuine interest in his magic tricks (which included the marbles, to his surprise). When Ranboo turned 16 he was officially legally adopted, and it was the best birthday present he ever could have received. From that point on, the three of them were a ghost hunting team (Kristin still had a “real job” cause they needed money), and quickly learned that Ranboo was a pretty damn powerful medium. He could sense and communicate with the dead through their machines far easier than either of his dads, and had helped them find plenty of haunted locations in the past.

The place they were headed was a memorial to an old war, some place that Ranboo had a feeling was incredibly haunted. Now, museums were normally at least a little haunted, but almost never haunted enough to make him feel ill. But this memorial, whatever is was, was unwieldy upsetting to him.

“You doin’ alright back there, kid?” Techno asked from the drivers seat, and Ranboo swallowed down his marbles again to answer. “Yeah, just, uh, a bit nervous. Something feels…off about this place.” “As you’ve said,” Phil chuckled. “Whatever’s here has to be mega haunted.” He said, fiddling with his camera. Oh, right, they were youtubers too, Ranboo almost forgot that part. They had a somewhat popular channel and Ranboo was incredibly grateful that his parents were very considerate with what he wanted to put online. Right now, Phil was just trying to make sure their main handheld worked. “Yeah, something’s here. I’m sure.” Ranboo adds. This was about to be one hell of a trip.

~~~

It’s midday when they arrive at the museum of the town of L’Manberg, somewhere none of them had ever even heard of. They meet a nice man who Phil had called over the phone to do a tour with. He introduces himself as Mr. Manifold, or just Jack, and leads them around the museum. Apparently, this small town had a lot of war time history, and Jack knew loads of it, since apparently he’d had an ancestor who fought, which was pretty cool. Ranboo tried desperately to feel for anything specific attached to the man, especially if he had a great great grandfather who died in these parts, but nothing. No ghosts. Ranboo still felt wrong, but he couldn’t find why. Nowhere they went had any sort of supernatural readings, no matter how cool it all was. With every nervous glance Phil and Techno gave to Ranboo, he felt worse and worse that he could have led them somewhere useless.

Until that one room.

Apparently, the museum was built over a specific relic of the war. Jack started leading them down an old stone staircase, into a place he said was called “the final control room.” There were old half decayed wooden chests lining the walls, moss infested stone bricks, and a single wooden button in the center of it all.

As soon as Ranboo entered the room, they collapsed.

They had never had panic seize them like this in their entire life. Something in the room, something about it, was wrong. So, so wrong. Something had happened in there, something that hurt a lot of people. Something that time couldn’t let go, that had lingered in that room and hit him like a freight train over a hundred years later. He couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t see through his own tears, and could only barely feel Techno lift him and run him back out of the room.

“Something bad happened in there.” Ranboo muttered as soon as he was able to. Phil and Techno looked to Jack, who explained that that was the very room where the infamous L’Manburg traitor tried to kill the original founders. He apologized for taking Ranboo in, but they insisted they were fine to continue the tour. So, Jack did. Eventually when he finished (with no more incidents, thank god), Phil thanked him profusely for his expertise, and Jack wished them all well and invited them to explore on their own a bit to stop and read.

“Im so sorry, i swear to god I felt something, i still do, there has to be something here, there has to-“ Ranboo started apologizing as soon as Jack was out of hearing range, only for Techno to cut him off. “It’s ok, Ranboo, it’s ok. Maybe you’re just off your game, it happens to everyone, we’re not mad at you. You figured out what was wrong with that room, maybe that was all it was. And hey, we get to look around this cool museum!” Ranboo looked and saw the genuine excitement in Techno and Phil’s eyes and chuckled, ignoring the feeling that the control room was definitely not what he was looking for, no matter how upsetting it was. His parents were both huge history buffs, and he bet that they loved being here and just learning more than even finding actual ghosts.

“Ok, yeah, I- I’m just gonna go sit outside, if that’s alright. I feel like i’m suffocating in here. You guys keep exploring and call me later, we’ll meet back up then.” “If that’s what you want to do, mate. Keep in touch.” Phil tussled Ranboo’s hair, and him and Techno left to put their paranormal equipment back in the car, leaving Ranboo to find their way outside through a back door. He stepped out and closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. He felt better…for all of two seconds.

Then he opened his eyes and panic hit him again.

The outside area to the museum was a historical town, a place that held some of the exact homes that L’manberg citizens lived in over a century ago, and with those homes was a horrible sight that almost made Ranboo pass out from sheer panic for the second time that day.

A tower. Massive and made of cobblestone, it grew to lengths almost higher than Ranboo could physically see. It was old, moss covered, and slightly crumbling, as old stone is, but still sturdy. The control room was nothing compared to this thing.

Ranboo managed to keep himself from throwing up as he made his way closer to the tower and read its plaque: “Tower of the Child Soldier.” Ranboo pulled some of the marbles up to his mouth and started chewing on the glass, a nervous tic that Kristin warned would break his teeth one day, but for now her warning was the farthest thing from his mind. He read on.

“This tower was built by an original citizen of L’manberg who couldn’t take the war efforts, ending their own life by jumping off this very tower. Letters and documents from other soldiers around this time indicate the victim of this tragedy was a child. This stone is a testimony to the cruelty of war, and just how many innocent people were lost not just to the battle, but to the wars they were fighting with themselves. Rest in peace, Child Soldier, your memory has lasted far beyond your years. To learn more, visit the memorial of the Forgotten Soldiers.”

Ranboo didn’t know when they started crying. This was horrible, so so horrible. But, for the first time, they felt like they found part of what they were here for. He rushed back in the museum and found Jack shockingly quickly, asking about the memorial to the forgotten soldiers. Jack explained that while the stories of many remembered veterans’ stories were told in the museum itself, there was another memorial to the soldiers whose names and faces had been erased over time.

The memorial Jack led them too was, admittedly, beautiful. It was outdoors, marble archways and columns aligned in a circle with display cases with belongings. Some of the things were all together and labeled that it’s likely they all belonged to the same person, though historians were unsure who those people were. Some display cases just held random objects. Finally, there was a small room with a door and a staircase. Jack said that it led to the room where the rest of the memorabilia that belonged to the child soldier was. So, Ranboo thanked him and went down.

The hallway at the bottom was narrow, the walls were glass cases lit up and filled with remnants from this poor kid. Diary entries, songs and poems, hand knitted scarves and jackets, and mementos that were presumably gifts from their friends. There were even letters from people who knew them, ranging from talking about how irritating they were as the youngest soldier at just 16, some talking about how they’d never met someone so loyal and it was a shame they were fighting in such a huge war so young.

Ranboo had never felt quite like this in his entire life. He honestly couldn’t help the tears that rolled down his cheeks. He felt utterly sick to his stomach, pain stabbing him through the gut at the sheer grief he felt. The feelings weren’t his, something was pushing this onto him. This was what he set out to find; this poor child, only a little bit younger than he was now, losing his life to suicide in this war. “I’m not sure if it’s you that’s here,” Ranboo started quietly, “but…but I’m here to talk to you. To learn your story. I’m a medium, I just want answers.” Nothing. Ranboo continued. “I’ve never had a place make me feel like this. I knew something happened here the moment I heard of this town, and I needed to see. I learned about the war, I learned about the rebellion and the betrayal and-“ at that, a draft blew through the room, dropping the temperature drastically. Ranboo was sure he closed the door behind him, and even if he hadn’t, it wasn’t this cold outside.

“I know, I know that must have been horrible, I can’t imagine, I went in that room and just the sight of the stone and chests sent me into a panic attack. I can’t imagine what it would have been like in person.” It felt like a rock was sinking in his gut the more he talked about the control room, so Ranboo shifted gears. “I’m so sorry. I’m about as old as you were, I can’t imagine. You didn’t deserve it, you didn’t deserve any of it. And you don’t deserve to be stuck here alone. This place may have forgotten you, but I don’t want to. I’m here. I want to be here, if you’ll let me be.” Ranboo could barely finish speaking before he fell to the ground, his forehead pressed into his knees as he began to sob. He knew these feelings weren’t his, he knew it, but he also couldn’t reason through the blind grief and sorrow he was feeling enough to care.

With no warning, the lights in the display cases at the walls went out, leaving a single illuminated case right in front of him, the center of it all: a uniform. White and blue with accents of red. Tattered, torn, with small patches and embroidery on it. And at the foot of the case, a little ghost stood. Barely 5 inches tall, standing just on the other side of the glass. Ranboo was…well shocked, to say the least. He’s been able to feel ghosts, sure, but he’s never seen one. Half of him didn’t think they could even have a visible form until right now.

The child soldier was a boy, somewhat translucent and shaded blue, with dirt filled hair, sunken almost glowing blues eyes, and a torn up mismatched outfit of whatever he must have been wearing when he died. He stared up at Ranboo, who he’d let stop sobbing, tense and full of distrust. But as Ranboo looked at him, he found himself tearing up again all on his own. “You look…exhausted.” The little ghosts eyes went wide, shoulders dropping as he began to cry again. Ranboo laid a hand in front of the glass, and was shocked when the ghost stepped through onto it. They pulled him up to their chest, feeling the cold and only half corporeal being press into them and cry as Ranboo swiped a finger up and down his back.

“It’s been so long,” the ghost muttered eventually. “Even when I was alive, I…” He trailed off, and Ranboo didn’t push him to continue. “It’s ok.” Ranboo said, cause what else were they supposed to say? It was a ghost. A real, actual fucking ghost, it was taking all of their self control to not freak out. All things considered, it looked weak, but if this kid was what was infecting the museum and the memorial and messing with their head like that, Ranboo could guess that he was anything but. “I’m here to help, however i can.” “How?” the ghost whispered in response. “I’m dead. Thats it. I didn’t do well enough in life, now I’m here forever. Even if you can finally see me, you can’t stay.”

“Can I take you out of here? You don’t deserve to spend the rest of your afterlife surrounded by the same places you were for your entire life. I travel a lot, I’ll take you.” Ranboo wasn’t sure why he was offering. He certainly didn’t need to, he just met this dead kid. But…something about all of this hit home for them. They lived their life seemingly alone, unappreciated, and helpless. Getting a family had been Ranboo’s saving grace, maybe they could be a saving grace for this ghost too.

“I…I’d love to go. But I can’t.” the ghost admittedly sadly. “Im stuck here. Im bonded to this stupid uniform and there’s nothing else in here that I’ve had a stronger connection with. There’s only one thing I might be able to re-bond to, but it’s not down here.” “Wherever it is, I’ll find it.”

“I had it throughout the whole war, and it was on me when I..when I died. I’d bet it’s there. If you find it, I’ll be able to follow wherever it goes. That’s how I think it works, or at least, that’s how it feels like it should work. You’re the first person who’s ever been able to see me like this, I want to trust you. If you really can somehow feel my emotions, you’ll find it. Help me and I’ll leave with you.” “I’ll find it, then. I’m not leaving you behind.” He didn’t know why he became so attached to the ghost, but he wasn’t going back on his word now. Ranboo pulled the ghost away from his chest, holding him to eye level with one hand and holding the other outstretched. “I’m Ranboo.” The ghost grinned, his smile taking up his whole face as tears still poured from his eyes. He took one finger with his hands and shook. “I’m Tommy.”

~~~

The sun was starting to set by the time Ranboo gathered everything they needed for what they were about to do. Whatever weird physic connection they had to Tommy was truly fucking with their head as they circled the tower, trying to get a sense of where this thing might be. Almost everyone in town was home for the night, which Ranboo was grateful for since he was pretty sure that digging up around a memorial site was probably unappreciated at best and illegal at worst.

He was running fully off his own intuition, digging near the front of the stone, quickly realizing that whatever Tommy needed was in that area. It luckily wasn’t too far down, since Ranboo was only using their hands, but eventually they found it: a compass. This was it. Almost as soon as their hands touched the old iron, the sick panicked feeling they’d had since first arriving here went away, though Tommy’s lingering grief remained. They pulled a water bottle from their backpack and quickly cleaned off the compass with their shirt till it shone like it hadn’t been buried for a century. They opened it’s clasp to find the inside miraculously untouched and clean of grime, save for a message that had been scratched into the inside years ago: “Your Tubbo.” Along with this, it was fully functional, pointing in a direction that was decidedly not North but hey at least the hand was working. They clenched it in one hand and pushed the upturned soil back into place with the other. They had to push back more tears as they thought that this had been Tommy’s, now unsure if the sadness was theirs or not, but that was an issue for later. Right now they just needed to steal this century old historical artifact and be on their wa-

“Ranboo! There you are, Phil and Techno have been lookin’ for you!”

Now call it a practiced reflex or whatever, but when a kid who has spent most of their free time practicing magic tricks that may or may not involve swallowing marbles gets caught by a museum curator holding what could be a priceless addition to the museum that they are not going to give up, you can imagine that in the panic to hide it, muscle memory may kick in.

Ergo, you know exactly where the compass ended up the second Ranboo heard Jack’s voice.

Ranboo turned away from the monolith to see Jack running towards him, trying to keep his cool and pretend everything was fine as he felt the cold metal of the compass slip down his throat and into his stomach, eventually clinking against the marbles he hadn’t had time to pull to his mouth. “You alright, man?” he questioned, and Ranboo nodded. “Yup! yup, totally, absolutely nothing wrong here, heh…where are my parents? I have something to show them.”

~~~

“This is crazy, we didn’t even know this was here!” Phil said, standing at the cobblestone tower. “It’s sad, too. You said there was more stuff left behind by this kid?” Techno asked, and Ranboo nodded, wanting to get back to the other memorial as soon as possible so they could get Tommy and get out of this town. “Yes, there’s a little underground tomb thing in his memory, and we need to go there before it closes and we head home.” Ranboo said with a determination that was rare for them. Techno and Phil took the hint to follow.

Making his way back to the memorial, Phil and Techno looked around a bit at some other artifacts, but Ranboo bolted straight back to where Tommy was. Racing down the steps, he saw all the lights were still broken except for the uniform spotlight, and Tommy was nowhere to be seen. “Tommy, it’s me, I’m back. I found it, I found the compass. ‘Your Tubbo,’ right? You can come with me, I’ll get you out of here.” Nothing. He waited. He heard the district footsteps of his parents behind him, but paid them no mind. “Tommy? It’s ok, you don’t have to hide! It’s me, Ranboo, your friend, remember? Tommy??” He started to get frantic, and felt a calming hand on his shoulder. “Calm down, Ran, you don’t need to have another panic attack today. Who’s Tommy?” “The soldier, this soldier!” Ranboo said, pointing at the uniform. “The kid, the one who built the tower! He asked me to find something, it was where he said it would be, I spoke to him, I touched him, he was here!! Please, please you have to believe me-“ “We do, mate, we do!” Phil interjected, taking Ranboo’s hands in his and rubbing circles into the backs of his palms. “You spoke to a ghost, that’s incredible! But, maybe if you found what he wanted, he’s moved on? You helped him find peace.” “He didn’t want peace, he just wanted a friend! I told him I’d be back for him.” Ranboo practically sobbed. He again didn’t know what came over him, he was never like this. He barely knew this ghost, why was he getting so worked up over this?? Phil and Techno exchanged glances that told him they were thinking the same thing he was.

“Ranboo, listen to me;” Techno said, placing his hands on his kid’s shoulders, “you helped him. He’s at peace now because of you. He probably didn’t know that would happen, but he’s ok now. He’s happy, alright?” Ranboo took a few deep breaths, and suddenly felt a shocking wave of calmness wash over him. And by shocking, he meant freezing. It was like a bucket of ice water had been poured over his head, but he no longer felt ill. Sure, he was shivering, but he felt…better. So, so much better. He was worried about Tommy, but maybe his parents were right, maybe he had moved on. Maybe Ranboo had helped him.

No one noticed that the air in the cellar grew warmer as the trio left the up the stairs.

~~~

Ranboo’s sense of calm had persisted as he was helping pack up his family’s van, now knowing they’d have to drive through the night to get home, but so did the chill. In fact, his shivering had gotten so bad that Phil had stopped to buy him a blanket and a few packs of hand warmers at a gas station, and that was barely doing anything. It had been a few hours at this point, and while Techno was driving in silence and Phil was asleep, Ranboo found himself laying across the backseat pulling the marbles back up to his mouth again out of habit, only to barely suppress a hiss of pain when they hit his teeth. They were fucking cold, and the sensation on his teeth was incredibly unpleasant. Pulling the marbles out of his mouth, he was shocked to discover that they were coated in ice, fully frozen over.

None of this was making sense. They set the marbles aside, sitting up somewhat and pressing a hand to their torso underneath the blanket. It was frigid, the entire area of his stomach was ice cold. Was…was it the compass? Could it be?? He tried to pull it up, but for the first time in years, he couldn’t. He tried again. Nothing. He tried a third time, and this time distinctly felt something yanking the compass back into his stomach.

The aura of calm (which Ranboo was quickly realizing was being pushed onto him like the panic had been earlier) was cracking, and Ranboo began to panic. He couldn’t throw up, his body temperature had dropped by at least 10° F, and his stomach felt like it had frostbite. What could he possibly have done, what could possibly-

wait.

The air in his stomach was dropping in temperature, his emotions were being manipulated, and the compass was in his stomach, the one thing that the ghost had said he’d be able to latch onto to leave with Ranboo.

no fucking way.

“Tommy…?” Ranboo whispered as loud as he would dare as to not disturb his parents. He waited for a response, until-

“I was wondering how long it’d take you.”

Ranboo could have screamed. The calm aura shattered, and he slapped a hand over his mouth to keep from hyperventilating while his other hand stayed firmly grasped over his stomach. Fuck. Holy fuck, there was a ghost inside of him. Was he possessed, or was this being haunted? It felt like he was being haunted, more so, but either way he would certainly fucking rather not be. “What are you doing in there?! Get out!!!” Ranboo hissed frantically, still trying to pull the compass out of his stomach and hopefully the ghost along with it. The compass was pulled back down regardless.

“Hey, don’t yell at me like this is my fault! Why would you swallow my compass anyway? Don’t you think it was a bit of a shock for me to see you walk into my room, feel the presence of the most valuable item I owned before I died, and attach myself to it only to end up in here?! Pretty damn weird way to rescue a guy, if I do say so myself.” Tommy snarked, and Ranboo sighed. “I’ll explain later, I don’t want my dads to hear me. I’m sorry, now let me bring you out.” “No can do.” Tommy replied. “I don’t, uh, deal with adults well. I heard them talking to you, that’s why I didn’t just leave the second I ended up in here. I’d rather not meet your folks. And myself and the compass seem to be just fine.”

“I’m gonna die.” “No you won’t, pussy. I’m not that cold.” “The metal against my stomach lining is!” Ranboo quietly argued, “just let me bring the compass up, i’m not gonna get rid of it. I want to help you, but i can’t do that if we’re both ghosts.”

“You…you still want to help me?” “‘Course.” Tommy responded in silence for a few seconds, before sighing. “Fine, but if you toss it I’ll curse you.” Ranboo hummed in agreement, not bothering to argue that if he wanted to toss it he wouldn’t have dug it up and certainly wouldn’t have swallowed it in the fucking first place, and this time when he pulled up the compass it came easily. When he pulled it out of his mouth, a cloud of steam came out with it like he was standing outside in negative degrees. Sure enough, the compass was frozen and almost hurt his hands to touch, so he immediately opened a new pack of hot hands for it, wrapping it carefully.

With nothing else in his stomach, he could start to focus on what Tommy himself felt like, which he’d expected to be nothing, but was…definitely something. Firstly, the ghost was cold, as was to be expected, but oddly physical. Like, there was a noticeable weight in his stomach, but he was generally used to that. Tommy didn’t necessarily weigh…less or more than the marbles, but he weighed differently. His weight was spread out, and since he wasn’t as solid as what Ranboo normally swallowed, it felt strange. He could feel something, someone, in there, but it wasn’t like anything he’d felt before. He…didn’t hate it. Tommy was almost…soft? Like a form made of tv static that he could feel along the bottom of his stomach, but he still had a form and some mass. Tommy hadn’t said anything since he gave up the compass, so Ranboo took the opportunity to press his unoccupied hand against his stomach, feeling where the front walls touched Tommy’s form and the tv static feeling spread. Then he felt Tommy press back, seemingly done with talking for the night. Ranboo patted where he felt his stowaway and laid an arm over his…well, he guessed friend now.

Something warm lit up in him when he realized he’d finally have a friend, even one his own age (Tommy still acted like a teenager, so in his mind, it counted). He genuinely couldn’t wait to get to know Tommy better, learn about ghosts and how he lived, and more, but he quickly figured out that excitement was not the only thing making him feel warmer. Tommy, who seemed to be completely unconscious, was warming up slowly, and Ranboo was confused for all of 2 seconds before looking back at the compass. Right, the hot hands. He guessed Tommy was more linked to this thing than previously thought. Ranboo looked down at his torso, arm still over his friend. Yeah, Tommy deserved to be warm after all his time in that cold ass cellar. He reached down and placed the compass, still in hot hands, right in front of the car heaters that Techno had been blasting for the entire ride. He felt his stomach heat up a lot faster, and swore he heard Tommy sigh as he felt the tension in the ghost’s frame melt away. Good, if this is where Tommy needed to relax, Ranboo could do that.

[sadkidwithocs]

Dad’s friends no.4 The man never grows up

Dad’s friends no.1 Adrian Adonis

Dad’s friends no.2 Tito Santana

Dad’s friends no.3 Mike Rotunda

[Faren’s part]

“Never grow up”, this phrase can define Marty undoubtedly, because he likes to live in crazy and fun life, never lets his age dictate his life or his sense of fun.. The year 1991 was probably the most chaotic time of my wrestling career, but at the same time, it was full of color. And most of that chaos, of course, came from this guy.

Marty was truly one of a kind. He was cheerful, charming, and always talkative, but at the same time, he was always lazy when it came to training. I often think that if wrestlers were like students in a classroom, Marty would be the kid in the back row who didn’t care about lessons, always distracted, and loved to prank others just for fun. But he always has high score anyway and was adored by the girls.

Even though he was entirely different from Shawn, his tag team partner, they were equally talented in their own ways. Shawn seemed more serious and ambitious, while Marty… well, as I said, he lived for the fun of it all.

I was close to Marty, mainly because we were about the same age (I was older than him just 1 year), had similar height and weight causing we often trained together. And honestly, we were both talkative and meddlesome..which made us click so quickly. I could confide in him about anything, whether it was something stupid I did or just silly questions.(Because serious question or something about kids I’ll ask Mike)

Being good baby sitter

For me, he’s really good babysitter because of his naturally sense of humor. When I have a match and need to leave him with some wrestlers in locker room. There’s just something about Marty that kids instantly connect with—he could play with Seiji and talk anything in the world(by doesn’t care it’s true story or not), and my son would stick to him like glue just like Jacques.

But of course..Marty being Marty, he always party hard at night and sleepy during the day…Most of the time, he’d fall asleep before my son did!. I remember one time I came back after my match was done and found Seiji walking around on his own while Marty was sleeping right next to him. Honestly, if Seiji had wandered off somewhere, Marty wouldn’t have had the slightest idea.

and in those moments, the responsibility would often fall to Mike who become an impromptu babysitter when he found Seiji wandering alone. Mike would scold both Marty and me, said, “Seiji is too young to play with Marty! How the hell can you leave a kid to play on his own?!” but I’m being completely honest, Mike let Windham, his oldest son, run around the locker room to another rooms, his kid makes more chaotic than I ever let Seiji!

Still, no matter how much Mike grumbled, I couldn’t help but laugh every time. Especially seeing him take on the role of babysitter. Deep down, though, I was always grateful for Mike that stepping up to help me when things got hectic😅.

The chaotic maker

Back to Marty. One night, after partying with fellow wrestlers in the bar, me and Marty were walking back to the hotel with “Another Day in Paradise” by Phil Collins playing in my head. I was a bit drunk and saw a homeless man sitting on the sidewalk. I “think twice” and “Think about it”for a while and gave him some money. Not many a few minutes later, Marty (who was also drunk) scolded me, saying I was “too naïve”, I didn’t ask him first if the homeless man was trustworthy.

I was genuinely confused about how Marty knew so much about these things. He explained that his life wasn’t just limited to the wrestling world; he knew all kinds of people, even homeless ones that nobody want to know. He could even distinguish who was friendly homeless and who is junkie. I mean.. being friendly person is good, but you mustn’t know everybody in the world!!

Although he seemed like a playful person, Marty had a reckless kind of courage. There was a time he stepped in to help Sherri when she had a feud with some of Mr. Hunter’s henchmen at a bar. Sherri was a strong woman with a fighter spirit like a man…but woman still be a woman, it’s a gentleman’s due to protect weaker woman. Marty didn’t hesitate to help her without considering the consequences, me/ Mike and Jacques run following him, and as expected, it ended in a brawl.

Marty smack some of mr.Hunter’s henchman fucking hard and ended up by that dumbass being taken to the hospital. Mr. Hunter was furious after knowing this on the next day. Although he(Hunter)wasn’t present at the incident, but when he found out that it was Marty—who is close friends with the French-Canadian wrestlers he already hated—Make him even more want to find a way to get rid of Marty. Mr. Hunter immediately reported it to Vince McMahon and Pat Patterson by explain that Wrestlers should only fight in the ring and shouldn’t use wrestling skill to hurt others

Hunter demanded that WWF take responsibility by suspending or firing Marty, because he feels uncomfortable to have business negotiation here at backstage without knowing that Marty would show up and hurt them any time. Vince promised him without objection..because In order for business negotiations with abroad company to go well, and because of Vince is the business man who prioritized profits over morals, He doesn't care what the wrestler under his own company will be drunkard fight with others in the bar or causing any chaos. When that wrestler is a talented person, Vince is ready to turn a blind eye. And yes, this time he doesn’t want to lose a talent wrestler like Marty who could still bring company in money and ratings. So, Vince pretended to suspend Marty and instructed him to stay hidden in the locker room whenever there has some executives from each companies visited the backstage, for making it seem like he was truly suspended.

But knowing Marty’s the restless nature like a kid, I wasn’t sure how long he could keep up with the plan. Every time he saw female workers from other companies walking into the backstage, he(and Shawn) couldn’t resist going out to show himself according to the top babyface tagteam of WWF gonna do. I just hoped this time he wouldn’t run out and face with Mr. Hunter by chance, because if another incident occurred, WWF might lose its business opportunities, and EVERYTHING could fall apart because of his antics.

But..yeah. something like that. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯That’s just Marty. He was the one who made my life in WWF is full of colorful just like his costumes and gimmick. Even though it was chaotic at times, I couldn’t help but smile every time I thought about those stories. I mean.. just we looking each others’ dumb face can make we laugh!

[hugsandchaos]

@evandarya , @fluffen-spooky , @shorterthanaverage , @nottmuchtopost , @killercranberries , @cmstars2 , @amecurio , @scythgal , @writer-extraordinaire , @waitimdissocaitingagain , @imaginationmademanifest , @chrysanthemum9484 , @rasberry-muffin , @jaguarthecat , @dannyphantomphan , @starmee-lodurrson , @thefearfullone , @decisively-o-indecisive , @nifeout , @sailor-goddess , @the-legal-shipper , @ollietheotaku , @lov3ly-pain , @robinmedea , @viyatrix , @markus209 , @kyrianclawraith , @newgraywolf , @the-church-grimm , @scribbiesan-main , @bruh-incoming , @sunflower-sovereign , @britcision , @spooky-fm , @phoenixdemonqueen , @latheevening226 , @avenlfear , @starscreamlover , @undead-essence , @emiwritesthings , @jaytriesstuff , @calcifina , @bun-fish , @luffyrose, @potatoeofwisdom , @thegatorsgoose , @markus209 , @may-rbi , @mothman-the-mothman-87 , @dannyisababyking , @soul-lime , @elvesandlanterns , @bahfev , @blackroserelina , @love-has-no-labels , @deepslumberworld , @lesling123 , @peachpopprize , @moons-cat , @phil-lis I GOT YA’LL SOME SECONDS!!!

This is much later and a lot shorter than I intended it to be.

Diana was expecting to have a normal night routine, which included the typical 3AM snack, not go downstairs and nearly have a heart attack when she realized a boy had broken into her house to get some food. She should’ve called the cops, yet here she was, sharing some leftover chicken noodle soup with him.

“Sorry for the intrusion. If it makes you feel better, I didn’t break anything and the only thing I intended on stealing was a bit of food.” The boy, or Danny as he introduced himself, apologized. Diana handed him a bowl and fork and sat next to him on the couch, where they both sat in darkness, with the exception of the light from the kitchen.”It’s alright. Now that I’ve given it to you, it’s not considered stealing, now is it?” She replied. The black haired boy smiled a bit and shrugged.

They both ate in silence for a while. Or at least, in audible silence. Diana’s mind raced with questions and only a few answers. How did he even manage to get in without breaking anything? Did he pick a lock? She would probably have to change them. Where did he come from? In the little light flowing in from the kitchen, his clothes looked battered and dirty. Diana couldn’t tell which assumption was worse; the possibility of him coming from an awful home or not having a home at all.

When Diana glanced at her phone to check the time after eating, she saw that 15 minutes had flown by. It felt like only three or four. She got up to bring her bowl to the kitchen sink, but was stopped by Danny speaking up.“Do you know of any homeless shelters I could crash at?” He asked.

So that confirmed that assumption.”The closest one is a couple miles. You should stay here for the night.” Diana said. She put her bowl in the sink, which was soon copied by Danny. He looked at her as if she grew a second head.”Wait, seriously?” He asked.“I’m grateful for the offer, but a kid appeared in your house with no sign of forced entry raiding your kitchen and you want to let him stay the night? I honestly expected you to chase me out when you turned on the lights.” He said.

“I think we’re both a little too tired to discuss this. Get some rest and we’ll talk more in the morning, you look worse than some of my coworkers.” Diana said, flipping the light switch off and heading to bed.”There’s a closet with spare blankets and pillows down the hall. Help yourself.” She added.

At the end of the hall, she opened the door to her bedroom and Danny found the closet.”Isn’t it technically already morning?” He asked. Dianapaused and rolled her eyes with a small smile.”Oh, no. The kid who broke into my house is into jokes.” She joked before closing and locking her door.

In the morning, Danny was gone. He left a thank you note and mentioned that he’s heading towards the homeless shelters.

If we ever cross paths again, teach me how to make that soup! — Danny

[lesbiandanhowell]

Have I told you lately, I’m grateful you’re mine

pairing: Dan Howell/Phil Lester

rating: general audience

warnings: no ao3 warnings apply 

tags: domestic fluff

word count: 2.2k

summary: It wasn’t just the pain, but also the frustration he felt over how debilitating it was, he wanted to do things, he had planned to edit a video he had filmed for his channel and research some games they could play (or rather Dan could play) for the gaming channel. Now he just felt like someone had hit him over the head with a club and forced him into standstill, because just the thought of looking at a screen made him squeeze his eyes shut tighter.

OR

Phil is struggling with feeling like a burden on a day of strong migraines and Dan helps him feel at peace with accepting being taken care of.

note: this was the first fanfic I wrote after a few years of not writing much and it was inspired by asking @dapg-otmebytheballs what they would like to read. so thank you for the inspiration hazel!!

read on ao3

[andydrysdalerogers]

Your Submissively ~ Excess

Steve Rogers X OFC Isabella Davis

Summary: Five Years after the events of Civil War, Steve Rogers has moved on from avenging and has started his own business, Grant Inc. He has a secret that would turn his world upside down. And he's good at keep that secret. Until he meets the woman with violet eyes that could bring him to his knees. Now his mission is to make her, his. But she is the key that could bring the world into balance... or chaos.

And she has no idea.

Series Warnings: slow burn at the beginning, smut, angst, sexual themes of BDSM, dom/sub dynamics, kidnapping, (and a bunch of others that will come up)

A/N Surprise for the holiday in the States! Happy Labor Day!

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site, even if you give me credit. DO NOT REPOST MY FICS. Reblogs, comments, likes, and feedback ALWAYS appreciated

Previous: Infatuation

Series Masterlist ~ Main Masterlist

Belle didn’t mention the offer that Steve Rogers had given her to anyone.  But she also didn’t let the business card out of her pocket. She would play with the card, thinking of the man.  He wouldn’t leave her thoughts.  The fit of his suit, how his face looked with the trimmed beard and the ocean blue eyes that she would get lost in.  

“Belle!”  Lila yelled, finally gaining her friend’s attention.  “Where are you?” 

Belle shook her head. “Sorry, just worried about this thesis.”  

“Don’t be.  You’ve got this. Anyways, Scott called.  He asked if we were going to go out with the gang.”  

“Do I have to?”  

“Belle, c’mon.  Ever since that gala you have been so preoccupied.  Did something happen?” 

“No Lila, It was fine.  I’m sorry.”  Belle sighed. “Ok, help me find something to wear.”  

Lila pulled a blue, strapless top and black jeans. “This.  You will look hot in this.” 

The little group of friends were a mix of the Gen Ed program and the engineering program.  Scott Lang, Hope Van Dyne, Peter Parker and Michelle (MJ) Jones all hung out together most of the time.  These were the closest people Belle had in her life.   

Belle used to live with MJ and Lila before MJ and Peter decided to move in together.  Scott and Hope had their own singles but were on the same floor as Belle, MJ and Lila freshman year.  Her little adopted family took her in and she was forever grateful.  Her adopted father had died when she was 16 and she had no one left.  She was forever grateful for Phil Coulson, and she missed him dearly.  

They bar hopped until they landed at a bar in Manhattan. Peter and MJ were celebrating their recent engagement and Hope was celebrating getting into Columbia for law school. Scott was in the Gen Ed program with Belle. But he had heard that he had gotten a great job for the next school year at a prestigious high school.  Belle still hadn’t heard and this fueled her consumption of alcohol.  

Belle was tipsy but still very aware in the bar.  It was fun, lots of seating, room for dancing, a pool table.  She had been here before with Scott, teaching her to play pool. The music was a fun mix of old school pop and alternative rock.  Belle swayed to the music, occasionally singing along.  She used to sing in school but stopped once Phil was gone.  

Scott had been abnormally close this evening but Belle let it go.  Her mind kept drifting to the ocean eyes that she could still see in the back of her eyelids. She got up, a little wobble in her stance.  

“Where’re you going Belle?” Scott helped steady her.  

“Just to the bathroom.  I’ll be back.” As she waited, she pulled the business card from her pocket.  She stared at the name. 

Steven G. Rogers, CEO. 

She scoffed a little before she dialed.  

Hello? 

“Hello Steven G Rogers.”  

Belle? 

“That’s me.” Belle sighed.  “I don’t know who you think you are but I don’t need your offer.”  Her speech slurred slightly.  

Isabella?  Are you ok?  

“I’m fiiiinnnneee,” she sang.  

Have you been drinking?  

Belle laughed. “Of course, I have.  Big girl.”  

Where are you? 

“A place.”  Her sass was coming out.  

Tell me now. She could hear him growl into the phone. 

She giggled. “I’m in New York.  Not Jersey, I gotta go.”  

Isabella, wa-, she hung up the phone.  She laughed at herself and went on her way.  

Steve was furious.  What the hell is she thinking, he thought to himself.  He called Bucky,  

Yea? 

“Can you trace Isabella Davis’s phone please?” 

Sure boss.  

“And get the car, we are headed wherever she is.”  

Belle decided she needed air. She went out to the brisk night and leaned against the wall, feeling the world spin slightly.  She was so frustrated with her career, with her life, with Steve Rogers.  She leaned her head back and closed her eyes.  She felt someone come up to her and she opened her eyes.  Scott stood up in front of her.  “Sorry.”   

“It’s ok Scotty. Did you need something?” 

“I wanted to talk to you Belle.  About something kinda important.”  

“Oh, is everything ok?”  She smiled, hoping her friend was ok.  

“Yeah, well no, but it could be.”  Scott swallowed looking more nervous.  “I was wondering if you would like to go on a date with me?” 

“A date?” Belle squeaked.  She had never considered Scott more than a friend.  

“Yeah, a date, Belle.  You’re beautiful, so smart and I’ve fallen for you.  Please?”  He leaned in.  

“Scott, wow, wait,” before she felt his lips on hers.  Suddenly they were gone.  

“She said wait,” a deep voice growled. “That’s not consent.” Steve pulled Scott away from Belle.  

Belle’s head spun.  “What are you doing here?” 

“I was worried about you.”  Steve pulled her towards him and stroked her cheek. “Are you ok?” 

“I’m fine.  I just don’t understand.”  Belle closed her eyes and felt herself falling.  

“Belle!”  Steve caught her as she tipped over.  “Belle? Can you hear me?” 

“Sure can Mr. Fancypants!”  Belle sang the words as she clutched onto him.  She shivered from the crisp air. She pressed herself against Steve’s warm body. “You’re so warm.”  

“Ok Isabella, let’s get you some water.”  Steve looked around and didn’t see the guy that tried to assault Belle anywhere.  He guided her inside and to the bar.  “Water,” he said to the bartender. Once the glass was on the bar, he handed it to Belle.  “Drink. Now.”  

“You are so bossy,” Belle said with a pout. 

“Drink the water Isabella or I will put you over my knee.”  Steve’s eyes blazed with authority.  Belle took the water and drank, some of it leaking from the corners.  She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.  “Good girl,” he whispered in her ear. “Let me take you home.”  

“I came with Lila.”  

“Ok stay right here.”  

Belle watched as he approached a dark hair man who was talking with Lila.  Lila spoke back to him and then glanced at Belle with a smirk.  Belle started to feel dizzy again as Steve approached her again.  “Think you can tell me where I need to go?” 

“Nope because I see two of you so I don’t know who to talk to.”  

“Ok, Miss Davis, lets go.”  

“Can’t walk.  So sorry to disappoint,” Belle said with a giggle.  She twirled around and stopped.  “My head hurts.”  

“Isabella? Are you ok?” 

“I feel like I’m going to faint.”  

“What? Right now?” Steve asked as he saw Belle close her eyes. He grasped her as she went limp in his arms.  “C’mon baby,” he said as he adjusted to carry her to the car.  Bucky came a few moments later. “Is Delilah ok?” 

“Yeah, also got a date with her so I’m happy.” Bucky smirked.  “Where to?” 

“Home.  I don’t want to leave her alone.”  He cradled Belle in his arms.  How did he end up this lucky? They got to his apartment, and he took her up to his room.  He laid her gently down and removed her shoes and socks, her jeans and lacy top.  He grabbed one of his shirts and sipped it over her.  He pulled back the covers and placed her in between.  

He went to his office and shut everything down.  Bucky came in.  “Is she ok punk?” 

“Yea, I put her to bed.  Can you get her some clothes?  Jeans, top, underwear.” 

“Sure. I’ll have it here in the morning.”  

“Thanks Jerk.  I’m going to turn in.”  

“Is Miss Davis in the guest room?” 

“No,” Steve cleared his throat.  “She’s in my room.”  

“Steve…” Bucky started.  

“I know Buck.  But she’s different.  We’ll see in the morning.”  

“Whatever you say man.  Good night.”  

“Night.”  Steve headed back to his room, where Belle hadn’t moved.  He placed two ibuprofen and a glass of water on the night side table.  He stripped down and climbed into the bed next to her.  He leaned over and kissed her forehead.  “Good night sweet Belle.”  

NEXT

Taglist:

@patzammit

@texmexdarling

@slutforchrisjamalevans

@jennmurawski13-writes

@firephotogrl74

@tinkerbelle67

@before-we-get-started

@bunnyforhim

@alexakeyloveloki

@amiquette

[fayestardust]

for bob tours: was there a moment (or more than one) at a place where you felt ~connected to a scene from bob/the real events?

All the tours I’ve been on have special moments, though some more than others. Thank you for asking me about this, as I love recounting these memories. Some of this is actually what you asked for; the rest is just me being sappy.

Okay, ready? Behind the read more because it's SUPER long.

Eindhoven tour, April 2022

This was the first WW2 tour I’ve ever been on and the first of We Happy Few 506’s Band of Brothers tours. Special for that reason alone. It was a one-day tour with a Q&A the day before, and only four out of six actors who were supposed to join actually made it over to Eindhoven. First up: Matthew Leitch (Floyd ‘Tab’ Talbert), our fierce leader on all of the tours so I won’t mention him every time. He co-founded WHF506. He’s kind of a very annoying older brother to me now. Also there were Tim Matthews (Alex Penkala), Doug Allen (Alton More) and Mark Lawrence (William H. Dukeman).

I enjoyed the Q&A, though at that point was far too insecure to ask anything about Band because the room was filled with much bigger WW2 nerds (at the time, I’ve now caught up) who all seemed to ask very profound questions. I also shied away from taking any photos with the actors because people pretty much swarmed them, and I’m slightly claustrophobic.

I was making art already at that point, and for this trip had managed to draw Matt and Mark. See here a moment of joy for me.

The next day was the day of the tour, and I was pretty nervous about it because I’d never done a bus tour before, but in my experience, buses aren’t particularly wheelchair-friendly. Such was the case here, too, but the moment I approached the daunting steps of the Megabus, guests (special and not) flocked over to help me up them. All doubt evaporated. I got appointed the spacious back-of-the-bus seat, with my cousin on one side and Mark Lawrence on the other.

I’ll single Mark out for this tour because our conversations on the bus were very real and important to me. But also because one of the most moving moments on the tour happened when we visited the Crossroads. This is where Mark’s character and the real Dukeman died. If you ever get to visit... the Crossroads in the show looks exactly like the real location. Easily one of the most true-to-life set locations. And Mark had never been to the Netherlands. It tore him up. We all sniffled, watching him cry. The thing you have to realise is that he feels like he owes his entire life to the show. He met his lovely wife because she saw him on tv, and they fell in love. He has Dukeman’s service number tattooed on his body. And he’s the kindest, sweetest soul.

Later, months after the tour, he called me up to sing me happy birthday at six in the morning.

Both Doug and Tim remain my friends to this day. I’m perhaps most grateful for the connections made on these tours. Some of the other guests are now also like family.

Bastogne tour - part 1, November 2022

Bastogne is a magical place for me. I took one of my geekiest friends on this second tour. Special guests were Freddie Joe Farnsworth (military advisor on both BoB and the Pacific) and Phil McKee (Strayer). Not the most well-known people in this fandom I think. But interesting. And funny. 

This tour was led by Reg Jans, and he’s THE guide who knows everything you could ever want to know about the Battle of the Bulge. So, during this tour, I feel like I learned a lot more about that, beyond what we see in Band.

Of course, we also visited Easy Company’s foxholes in the Bois Jacques. There was no snow (stay tuned for that on a later tour), so it’s not like it is in the show. But the woods are eerily quiet. I don’t know if I believe in anything supernatural beyond things like intuition, but if I were to start anywhere, it’d be there. Freddie Joe explained the consequences of sleep deprivation for your brain to us, to help us understand the soldiers better. Sometimes, they were their own worst enemies. They were freezing, underfed, underdressed and barraged by artillery, and most of the time, could not even see the Germans.

We also visited where John Julian was pinned down by Germans for hours. It’s still unclear what exactly happened to him, or when or how he died. We only see seconds of it in the show. It's like that with many things in the show actually. All the battles took a long, long time.

This tour isn’t my favourite - there’s a better one right after this, but this did solidify the idea that I would go on these tours just to see the people I’ve met while there. 

Bastogne tour - part 2, January 2023

Here it is, my favourite tour. Barely two months after the last one. Bastogne in the very dead of winter. Let me tell you: it was COLD. But it would have been, for the soldiers of Easy.

The special guests on the second day of the tour were Shane Taylor (Eugene ‘Doc’ Roe), and Lucie Jeanne (Renee Lemaire). Doug (Alton More) was also there, and it was lovely to see him again. But as you can guess, having Doc Roe and Renee on the tour in Bastogne is pretty amazing. Eugene and Renee never actually met each other, one of the few dramatisations of the show. It serves a purpose, though, so it’s mostly seen as acceptable. Renee’s story is quite tragic, and she died very close to where she had lived with her parents and her body was wrapped in the fine silk of parachutes and brought back to them. 

There were also some good hugs at the 'Nuts' bar! But the absolutely most amazing part of the tour happened without them. Our second day started really, really early. We got up at 5 am, got on the bus, and drove to the Bois Jacques. It was still pitch black when we got out, freezing cold and fresh snow crunched underneath our sleepy feet. 

Reg Jans was on this tour again, and he had something truly haunting in store for us. We all stood in a circle around him with our (mostly just purchased for this trip) head torches on as he recited a prayer by Lt. Col. Robert L. Wolverton, commanding officer of 3rd battalion, 506th PIR. 

Here it is.

Men, I am not a religious man and I don't know your feelings in this matter, but I am going to ask you to pray with me for the success of the mission before us. And while we pray, let us get on our knees and not look down but up with faces raised to the sky so that we can see God and ask His blessing in what we are about to do: God almighty, in a few short hours we will be in battle with the enemy. We do not join battle afraid. We do not ask favors or indulgence but ask that, if You will, use us as Your instrument for the right and an aid in returning peace to the world. We do not know or seek what our fate will be. We ask only this, that if die we must, that we die as men would die, without complaining, without pleading and safe in the feeling that we have done our best for what we believed was right. O Lord, protect our loved ones and be near us in the fire ahead and with us now as we pray to you.

And into the woods, we went. You have to remember, there are no cars at this hour. It’s dark. It’s quiet. We were told to be quiet. We were told to sit in the foxholes in the snow. We switched off our lights. No one was shooting at us, but we felt, in part, what the men of Easy Company would have felt. And then we watched the sun come up. It’s the closest thing to a religious experience I’ve ever felt.

I met one of my favourite people in the world on this tour, too. He took these wonderful photos of me and inspired me to take up photography again, myself.

Normandy tour, June 2023

This tour was a bit of an odd one out. It felt chaotic because it was scheduled around D-Day, which made Normandy really poorly accessible. It’s so busy, so our tour was mostly improvised around areas with the least amount of traffic jams. 

It did have its moments, though. Normandy is a cool place. And we had the amazing Pete McCabe (Donald Hoobler) with us. 

The day before the tour, I actually got to meet three Normandy veterans. Humbling, to say the least. I also met several more Band actors (Peter Youngblood Hills, Alex Sagba-Brady, Christian Black, Nolan Hemmings) and Scott Gibson, who played Captain Haldane in the Pacific. We still keep in touch. Christian Black is now a Still Photographer, and mostly shoots Tom Cruise’s movie stills. He also took this photo of Nolan Hemmings, this painting of him and little old me. 

I was really glad to see many friends again. And I brought my own camera and took amazing pictures (teehee). We saw most of Easy’s known landing spots in Sainte Mère Eglise, like Winters’ and Lipton’s, to name a few.  

Our guide here was Paul ‘Woody’ Woodadge, an English guy married to a French woman. He’s nice, but critical of Easy’s fame, not so much on account of Easy, but mostly because Easy was just one of the many companies that did incredible things. We visited the area around Brécourt Manor, where we learned that other company Paratroopers cleared the way for Easy’s famous mission.  It doesn’t make it less impressive, but it adds loads of context.

Another thing that I found incredibly moving was the reading of Lt. Meehan’s last letter home. It’s easy to forget how young these men were. And how wise. Meehan’s plane crashed in a field, and nearly 80 years later, you can still see where it landed because while the field is fully planted, there’s a part near a hedgerow that remains barren to this day. Haunting. 

We also visited Marmion Farm, where many famous Easy Company photos were taken (it’s where they more or less come back together after the jump).

One of my favourite stories, though, is that of medics Robert Wright and Ken Moore of the 101st Airborne. They treated 80 injured American and German soldiers and a child in a church in Angoville-au-Plain. There are still bloodstains on the pews. 

So, as you can tell, not everything had to do with Easy, because we also went to Omaha Beach, where I got out of my chair and walked. Just to walk where these brave men had walked and really feel the history.

Eindhoven/Arnhem Market Garden Tour, October 2023

My second favourite tour after Bastogne in winter. Our guest here was Mark Huberman (Lester Hashey) who was meant to come on the original Eindhoven tour but couldn’t. He’s delightfully Irish, and had the best anecdotes from the set. Also absolutely hilarious.

Many of my friends weren’t on this tour, so going on to it, I couldn’t have guessed it would rank among my favourites.

It was split between two things. Some Easy Company sites and stories (some repeats from the first tour, but often with a slightly different angle or experience), and the British side of Operation Market Garden!

By the way, did you know that Hoobler picks up the Luger that ends up killing him in Bastogne, at the Crossroads? I think they changed it in the show to let the story flow better.

Anyway. I loved this tour. We visited Schoonderlogt and the Crossroads again. This time I sat in the grassy field while everyone else did the famous run across. It’s such a long way!

But the stories of the British troops were perhaps even cooler to me. Because that all happened right on my doorstep. I knew the bigger picture, but we had Reg Jans on this tour again, which is synonymous with really personal stories. So for our British troops day, we followed in the footsteps of leaders and soldiers alike, until we met them again in their final resting place in the military cemetery. A really rewarding journey. Mark also read a letter by Ivar Rowberry, which I posted about here. There’s an audio recording of it too, which is well worth a listen. 

If you want to read more about any of these tours (I’m a bit tired of writing so much, check out my actual - non tumblr - blog over here. There is an entry for each one, there.

[shippingfangirl013]

Getting older sucks.

It’s “I made my first friend in that elementary school classroom,”

And “I used to sit on those swings with my first childhood friend, playing make-believe and talking about the newest movie we wanted to go see,”

It’s “I used to get off the bus with you after school and stay at your house every other night because I didn’t want what my parents were having for dinner,”

It’s “We used to have sleepovers in my room, and I remember that I loved going to your house because it meant playing with our American Girl dolls. We’re in the same family, but I saw you more than half my friends sometimes. I miss seeing you now, even though we only live 10 minutes away, it still feels like the years have crept between us.”

And “We met in 4th grade, but I’ve known you all my life. You knew my first crush and I knew yours. You loved Sam Winchester and I loved Dean. We sat on the benches at recess, reading books about Helen Keller and talking about how excited we were to play the violin next year. Gavin always went on about how he loved some tv show with monsters off of Cartoon Network while we read. You loved One Direction, Harry Styles was your first love, I’m sorry for that fight we had in 7th grade, I was an asshole and I hope you know that I love you, I wish you never dealt with half the shit life has thrown at you, I’m sorry that I was too young to understand how to handle the sinking grief that you went through in 8th grade, I promise you that I would take it all away if I could, I’m sorry for ignoring you when you told me my first serious boyfriend wasn’t actually a nice guy. I should have listened to you. I’m sorry I let him get between us.”

It’s “you were mean to me, but I miss you. We were young, but I don’t think that you’re a bad person anymore. I loved your art and I hope you still create wondrous works. You inspired me to start drawing, and I’m grateful for that. I miss watching Dan and Phil with you, and Michael Clifford will always remind me of you. Thank you for sitting next to me in the classes we had together, I’m glad we had lunch together too, I felt less alone eating crappy high school lunches with you before Spanish class. I hope you’re doing okay, and I know we talk from time to time, but I miss seeing your face.”

And “I loved you. You broke me. I have nothing to say to you for what you did to me, but I remember the way that your freckles danced around your face, curving upwards towards the sun when you smiled that lopsided grin at me. We were young and stupid, and I thought that was what love was. I know that I was mean to you too, and I want you to know that I’m sorry for that. I wanted forever with you, I didn’t even know you, I loved you, but even the brightest blaze of fire can turn cold in the dampened wet of winter.”

It’s “I met you in college, but you are someone who has never hurt me. Your laughter is like the musical notes you play on the flute, you are sharp and witty and I’d go to the ends of the world with you, only if you wanted to. We survived freshman year together. You handed me Kleenex at 3 am and held my hair back when I got too drunk. You walked me home with some of our friends, and you asked me to look at a magazine after the party and I said that there were people dancing on a trifle cake. You showed me a photo of a Bundt cake with raspberries on top the next morning. You helped me study, even when I was a pain in the ass, and you’ve made me laugh when I’d much rather cry. We rode horses together on weekends when we had time. You helped me get through one of the worst breakups I’ve ever had. I’ve cried on your shoulder more times than I can count, we’ve had more movie nights with friends in the dorms than I can remember. I’m grateful that I always had a travel buddy when it came time to go home for Winter Break. Two hours goes by much quicker when you’re screaming the soundtrack of Frozen II in the car. You reminded me that I’m a good person. You remind me of that a lot, and even though I know that I can be exhausting and hard to handle, you’re always there to lend an ear or offer advice, and if I just need support, I know I can count on you. We always stayed up late on your birthday, midnights during finals week were never boring when your mom sent you a package to open, every item wrapped with care, because she wanted you to celebrate even if you weren’t home yet. You love dragons, and I’m awful at drawing them, but I drew one for you anyways. I’m glad we had an apartment our senior year. I hate that we live 8 hours away. Thank you for introducing me to Mikayla. I’m sorry about the fights that we’ve had. I’m grateful to you and Mikayla for showing me what healthy friendship is.”

And “I’ve known you since 8th grade but we’ve never met in person. I think about you all the time. I’m proud of who you’ve become. Thank you for being such an amazing friend. You’re such an inspiration to me. I wish we lived closer, I wish I could come visit.”

It’s “I haven’t talked to you in a while. We FaceTimed every day after school in high school. You’re engaged now, and I’m so happy for you. I hope he treats you well, I’m sorry I live so far away, I want you to have everything you want in life. I came to your graduation party, I was so excited when you came to my house and surprised me. I miss you, I hope you’re doing okay. I know I’m awful at texting back, I need to text you more.”

And “I read your eulogy at your service. I hope I did right by you. I wanted to honor your memory, and somehow, the right words came to me after crying over blank paper for hours. I hate that you’re gone. I hate that I can’t talk to you anymore. I don’t know how to live without you.

(How do I live without you?)

I hope I honored you and your memory with what I wrote. . . I hope everyone knows how much I love and miss you. I hope you know how much I love you. If there is a Heaven, say hi to Molly and Monica for me. Say hi to Mavi and Bear and Precious too. I listen to Taylor Swift all of the time now. I listen to One Direction too.

You were my first real friend. And that’s not to say I didn’t have friends before, but you were the first that stuck around. It was like Lilo and Stitch, times two. We found each other and became friends, and then in 4th grade, I picked Sam to become friends with… and then we were a trio. I remember all of the trouble we got into… it feels like yesterday.

(God, how I wish it were yesterday, because then you’d still be here.)

Your grandparents cried when I came over to pick up your stuff. I cried when your grandma gave me your Ron Jon’s hat and that stupid scarf you always wore and damn near strangled me with when we would wrestle with one another. I hugged your cat Harley for you, I wish I had been able to visit your house more. You always wanted to come to mine, and I never knew why, but “your house is more fun than mine,” always came the reply. I never quite believed that, but I didn’t push you.

I started watching Golden Girls, it makes me think of you. Kally is getting older now too, she’s 16, I know that when we were younger, we joked that cats that old went to Star Clan. I hope she goes to live out the rest of her days with you up there, at least I know she’ll be loved and looked after when it’s her time to rest. You were supposed to be in my wedding, but as it stands now, that will be a long ways away.

Life is odd, and it’s always changing, and you of all people, know how much I hate change. (How do I keep living when I’ve lost so many people that I once cared for?)

How do my grandparents do it? Losing friends they’ve known for years? How does anyone do it? Living without the people you thought you’d never lose is the worst feeling ever, and I’m scared to live if it means that everyone I care for could die tomorrow.

I’m glad you were able to love someone and that he was able to love you in return. You deserved a lifetime of happiness. I hope that he knows you passed on, I tried to contact him, but I never asked you for a name.

I can’t sleep some nights knowing that I was the last person you willingly called at 2 in the morning. I hope you can forgive me for not picking up. I miss you more than words can say.

(Do you think if I had been there for you, things would be different? Would you still be here if we hadn’t drifted apart in high school?)

I wish we hadn’t drifted apart in high school.

I wish things didn’t have to end, I wish someone could invent a way to tell when things would come to an end, so I could cling to it more tightly, telling those people how much I love them, how important they are in my life, and how much I loathe change. . .

I wish I never had to read your eulogy. It was the second hardest thing I’ve ever done, missing you, grieving you. . . That’s the first.”

~ a short collection of the people I’ve loved

(This doesn’t even begin to scratch the surface of other new friends that I have and love right now, because I’m lucky to have so many people that care about me & I’m lucky to be able to care about them and get to know them as well.

This just… needed to come out tonight.

And I didn’t really include family in this, but I was more-so focused on friends that I’ve had and lost over the years.)

[criesinmultifandommess]

In That Mind of Yours

Short snippets based on what Ghostbur/Wilbur remembers

- Childhood -

"Seriously, Wil?"

Said boy groans from the floor, hand obscuring his vision. The other huffs, and though he can't see, he knows Techno had rolled his eyes at him.

"Come on, get up, you big baby."

A pale hand extends itself into Wilbur's sight when he uncovers his eyes, and he reluctantly takes the calloused hand. The sticky contact of sweaty skin on skin makes him wince, but he gets back on his feet anyway. His tired limbs ache, exhaustion seeping into him, and he can feel the fatigue slowly catching up.

Sure, Wilbur had sought out Techno first, at first just to observe him while he trained. But then, when Techno had noticed his constant fidgeting and asked if he’d like to join, it spiraled into teaching Wilbur the basics to having a little duel. Techno far exceeded Wilbur, and there was only one way this fight was going to go.

Still, the small, content smile on Techno's face and bonding with the normally cold half-Piglin made it all worth it.

“Wanna go again?”

“Techno, please, I’m going to pass out.”

"Wil, give it back!" (bullying Tommy)

He can’t help but snicker at the whine, holding the younger’s wooden sword just barely out of his reach. Tommy frown-pouts in his own angry, gremlin way when he laughs again.

“Give it back, or else-”

“Or else what?” Wilbur taunts, one hand on his hip and the other lazily holding the poorly made weapon. “Gonna ask Techno to help you? Maybe beg Phil to make me give it back? Huh?”

Tommy’s jaw sets, and he sees a flash of mischief in those bright, blue eyes before he pounces on the taller male. Wilbur stumbles, dropping Tommy’s sword, but before either can grab it, Wilbur quickly pulls and bends Tommy’s arms behind his back, bringing the blond down into a forced kneel.

“Got you.”

He wiggles in Wilbur’s hold, refusing to give in. “Let me go, you-”

“Nope.”

“Wil-”

“No.”

“Let me go or else I’m gonna start pissing.”

“That- you’re a disgusting little child, you know that?” Wilbur lets him go anyway, preparing himself for the incoming jabs.

“Don’t want me to piss, Wil? Huh? Afraid of a little piss?”

“Shut up-”

“Oh, Wilbur! Oh, Wilbur, I’m gonna start pissing now! Wilbur!”

“Shut up, Tommy.”

After a few seconds pass, Wilbur finally thinks he’s done.

“Wilbur, look, I’m pissing.”

If Wilbur tackles Tommy, that’s for the two of them to know.

"Wil? What's wrong?" (Phil protecting him)

Instantly, he’s shielded from the rest of the world by long black sleeves framed by comforting green stripes and blond locks. Phil’s not looking directly at him, checking without touching, watching without staring, which Wilbur is extremely grateful for.

“Do you want to talk?”

Wilbur shakes his head.

“Do you want to go home?”

Wilbur pauses, then nods.

“Okay, let’s go back then.”

Gently, gentle as can be, Phil picks him up, cradling the young boy against his chest. “Oh, do you want to fly back?”

Wilbur looks at the ground, and Phil takes the hint, tucking his wings back into his cape, feathers aligning and falling down his back into dark fabric. He shoulders through the crowd, keeping a calm yet quick pace.

It doesn’t take long for them to get back to the house. Techno glances up from his book as quick footsteps echo down the staircase.

“Phil! Phil! What’d you get from-”

“Quiet, Tommy.”

“Why- oh.”

"Wil, look, fresh bread!" (the smell of bread)

He turns to the excited voice, a smile already forming. Tommy hungrily eyes the freshly baked goods as Phil pays for a few loaves, Techno watching the younger to make sure he doesn’t do anything drastic. Wilbur chuckles, observing his family—not bonded by blood, but by trust and amity.

Phil slices one of the loaves into quarters, handing one to each of them. Tommy immediately digs in, tearing into the soft bread. Techno chooses to rip small chunks off and pop them into his mouth while Phil mimics Tommy, taking large bites as he matches strides with the boys, his boys.

Wilbur doesn’t eat right away, sniffing it at first. He can’t really smell it, but there’s a faint trace of sweetness. When he finally bites into it, it’s spongy and soft and the crust slightly crunches in his mouth. It almost melts on his tongue, easy to swallow.

He watches the other three walk and laugh, not a care in the world, unflinchingly themselves. Loud and bright and beautiful.

- Revolution -

"Hey, Wil?" (the van)

He turns to Tommy, whose eyes are fixed in the distance, somewhere between the treeline and the walls Dream had begun to construct. Yes, Dream had given them permission to use his land, but did he really have to make actual walls to cut them off from the rest of the world? Wilbur sighs.

“Yes, Tommy?”

“Do you regret leaving Phil and Techno?”

The man pauses, following Tommy’s gaze. He can already see the city rising from the ground in his mind, bustling and somewhat like the one they’d lived by. Sometimes, if he closes his eyes, he can see short blond hair and a pink braid imprinted on the back of his eyelids, he can hear Phil’s tittering laughter and Techno’s dry voice echoing in his chest. But then he opens them, and all that remains is Tommy.

“I do miss them, but...I don’t regret it at all.” He sees Tommy turn to him in his peripherals, but Wilbur doesn’t look away from the black and yellow walls. Instead, he swallows back the emotions threatening to spill forth and asks a question that’s been burning a hole in the back of his mind, festering. “Do you regret coming with me?”

The younger boy doesn’t speak, so of course Wilbur assumes the worst, that Tommy misses them far more than he wanted to stay with Wilbur and that he’d be going back immediately. Wilbur hated goodbyes, if he had to be honest. That’s why he ran away instead of fully bidding Phil and Techno goodbye, so if Tommy’s planning on leaving, a sarcastic comment builds its way up his throat to cover up his heartbreak, but then Tommy-

But then Tommy’s hugging him, gripping onto his jacket like he never wants to let go. Wilbur only stares at the messy curls, and still doesn’t speak when Tommy pulls away. Tommy doesn’t seem to notice his silence, wiping his eyes with a sleeve and speaks up.

“I- I do miss them, yeah, like you said,- but I think I like it here, with you and- and Tubbo, and Eret.”

Tommy’s grin widens when he speaks Tubbo’s name. He had immediately latched on to the other, finally meeting someone his age. Tommy grew up with people either several years older or several years younger, unable to form a connection with anyone. So when he’d met the dark-haired boy, of course they’d clicked. As far as Wilbur knew, Tubbo felt the same.

"Wilbur." (the revolution)

The other stares at him with that white porcelain mask of his, two dots and a curve in a blank smile hiding the intelligent mind of the opposing general.

“Dream.” He nods, voice calm yet sharp.

They’ve all gathered here, Dream and Wilbur plus their top soldiers. Sapnap, George, and Punz for Dream, and Tommy, Tubbo, Fundy, and Eret for him. He wished the first three weren’t fighting for him, but they’d insisted, stubborn as always, and so here they stood, five against four. He should’ve felt confident about their slight advantage in numbers, but the opposing side’s strength and skill far exceeded their own. Even with the voices of Techno and Phil offering their advice and support, it did nothing to lighten his shoulders or mood.

“I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, Dream,” Wilbur crosses his arms, faking confidence as he lifts his head high and proud. “I will not give up L’Manberg to you.”

Dream tilts his head. “So it’s war, then?”

“I suppose it is.”

“Then it’s settled. Tomorrow, at daybreak. Prepare yourselves, L’Manberg.”

And with that Dream and his soldiers take their leave. A sigh comes from Eret as Tommy whips around. “I kept quiet this time, are you proud?”

Wilbur doesn’t answer, can’t answer. Tubbo leads the chattering blond away from Wilbur as he sinks to his knees, head in his hands. He’s leading these men into battle, maybe even their deaths. Were they ready? Was he ready? He can’t do this, he can’t lie to them saying they could win, that none of them would die-

“Hey, Dad?”

"Hi, Wil!"

He turns.

"Hello, Niki."

She beams, eyes crinkling. “I wanted to give you this!”

Niki holds up a basket, and Wilbur almost chokes. It’s a variety of baked goods, as you would expect of a baker, but what has Wilbur swallowing down a cry and fighting tears is the bread.

Stupid, he knows, but it’s his last memory of Phil and Techno before leaving. It’s like he ingested a swinging sledgehammer still in motion and now it’s beating his intestines, crushing his windpipes and crushing his heart into a barely pulsing pancake.

Wilbur realized he’d been standing there for a few seconds, not reacting to Niki’s gift, so he adopts what he hopes looks like a happy expression and smiles. “Thanks, Niki. Did you make all of this yourself?”

She nods happily, so Wilbur assumes she’d bought his fake reaction. He plucks one of the loaves and breaks it, sniffing as he always does even though he can’t really smell it. Wilbur sinks his teeth into the bread, and the sledgehammer is back at it again as he’s hit with nostalgia. Crunchy, spongy, soft, but there’s something distinct about Niki’s.

He thanks her for the basket and promises not to let the child have any, which they both laugh at. As he waves goodbye at her retreating figure, the difference in the bread clicks. Love.

Love, and admiration, pure gratefulness comes rushing through his veins, rooting him to the spot. He knew that Niki was thankful for letting her stay in L’Manberg, but he didn’t know it ran this deep.

The young lady had stumbled into their upstart town a few weeks back

"Wil, Wil, Wil!" (Fundy growing up)

A toothy smile greets Wilbur when he turns to the bright voice, and he can’t help but reflect it back. Fundy wasn’t his biological son, but he’d promised Sally he’d watch over him like a father would.

“Yes, Funds?”

“M name’s Fundy, Wil, not Funds!” Pink peeks out from his barely formed fangs as the fox ears hiding in his hair flatten in annoyance. “Look, look! I drew us!”

He almost reaches Wilbur’s waist at the tender age of two, but the man squats so they’re at eye level. The paper in his clawed clutches is covered in crayon, barely decipherable names in black pointing to vague figures of what he assumes are citizens of L’Manberg.

“Welcome Wilbur, everyone, to the Control Room!” (The Control Room; tunnels)

Brown curls turn left and right, a smile slowly growing on Wilbur’s face.

Eret leads them down an underground path under the van

“Eret, we trusted you!”

“Down with the revolution, boys!” Eret’s grin as he laughs is the last thing Wilbur sees before the world fades into black. And then he hears it.

“It was never meant to be.”

“Wilbur, I’m scared.” (the Duel; arrows)

Tommy grips his jacket, the dark blue fabric ripped and stained red in some places. He takes a shuddering breath and meets Wilbur’s eyes, trembling.

“Wil, I don’t- I don’t want to- I’m-”

“I know, Tommy.” Wilbur sighs.

He’d never wanted Tommy to be involved in- in all this. He didn’t want him fighting at all, but here he was, on the front lines, about to risk his life in a goddamn duel for L’Manberg’s independence. How did everything change so slowly and yet so quickly?

Wilbur scratches at his wrist, two hearts glowing faintly. He scowls at the one darked out, the memory of Eret’s deep laugh as he lost consciousness sparking a burning hatred in his chest.

“Wilbur, care to write it up?” (Declaration of Independance)

They’ve done it, they did it, they’re free.

- L'Manberg -

“Wow, look at the new President, Mr. Wilbur Soot!” (being president)

He rolls his eyes at the comment and following wolf-whistle.

“Wil, what if we don’t win?” (the election)

His voice is small, not unlike how it was during the war. Tommy looks up at him, and in the back of Wilbur’s mind, he can’t seem to find the boy with the tooth gap and shining blue eyes, who could barely wield a sword. In his stead, is a young man who was forced to grow up too fast in an environment that was too harsh, too brash, too bloodthirsty.

“Wil, we won!” (“winning” the election)

He grins at the cheering blond. Most of the other parties clap politely.

They had won by a slim margin,

- Banishment -

“Wilbur, go! Run!” (chased out of L’Manberg; arrows)

- Pogtopia -

“Wil, what should we call this place?” (a ravine; Pogtopia)

It continues to amaze Wilbur, with how resilient Tommy is. They’ve just been kicked out of the place they called home, chased by the people they once called family. Hell, Tommy’s best friend was explicitly given orders to take them out. And yet-

“It goes on for so far!” Tommy’s still so bright, like they’re simply exploring and not hunting for some place to live. They’re still in their uniforms, but luckily they had grabbed some spare clothing before being chased out of L’Manberg.

“We have to hide, Wil!” (underground Prime Path; tunnels)

Tommy whispers harshly as Schlatt, Quackity, and Tubbo rapidly approach the end of the tunnel. He can hear the fear in Tommy’s voice, clear and dripping with ice-cold dread.

“Quickly, then, Tommy-”

They pile dirt and stone onto the wooden planks, racing against time and the echoing footsteps nearing the end. Not barely one second after Tommy covers up the path do they hear Schlatt’s rough voice praising Tubbo on the other side, Quackity interjecting once in a while.

- The War -

“Fath- Wilbur.” (A Spy’s Diary; books)

“WILBUR!” (a large explosion)

“WIL, WHERE ARE YOU?”

He giggles, the shouts lost in the noise of the outside world, the booms and detonations of Techno’s withers shaking the ground, the alarmed yells of his friends- of his comrades- of the others loud and clear. But none other is louder than the sea of his own thoughts, screaming, shrieking, screeching for his attention.

Do it, Wilbur.

Do it.

Push the button.

Kill them.

Do it.

Push it.

Do it.

Do it.

“What are you doing?”

His smile drops, panic spreading through his body at the voice. The voice, so familiar, so comforting. It- It’s can’t be-

“Phil? What are you doing here?”

“The better question is what are you doing here?” Wilbur flinches at the confusion, the hurt in his father’s tone. He’s disappointed in him. “Wil, are you really going to-”

“It’s for the greater good!”

“For everyone,” Phil sighed, pained. “Or for you?”

“Wil, you’re my son!” (Phil stabbing him)

He’d done it, he did it, he’s free.

Phil’s staring in horror at the damage done to L’Manberg, to the world, to Wil-

It’s all gone, the few survivors gaping at the remains before having to refocus on the withers, and Techno, and Dream. It’s pure chaos, the home that Wilbur loved is gone, the people Wilbur loved is gone, the Wilbur that loved...is gone.

What Wilbur remembers

Childhood: sparring with Techno as a kid, bullying Tommy, Phil protecting him, the smell of bread

L’Manberg: the van, the revolution (arrows), The Control Room (tunnels), Declaration of Independance (books), Niki, Fundy growing up

Being president, the election and “winning”

Being chased out of L'Manberg (arrows), a ravine (Pogtopia), underground Prime Path (tunnels), A Spy's Diary (books), a large explosion, Phil stabbing him