#Phil Guy Burrito Breath

[savage-kult-of-gorthaur]

WHO SCARED MARILYN?

PIC INFO: Resolution at 1123x1536 -- Spotlight on a really neat Marilyn Monroe mashup piece by Ohio based graphic artist Phil Guy, a.k.a., "Burrito Breath," published October 7, 2024.

"Sometimes you forget all about a drawing and then it creeps back up on ya…"

-- BURRITO BREATH, c. October 2024

Source: www.instagram.com/burritobreath/p/DA1H9psxrn.

[originalgiantcontent]

Episode 1 with illustrator Phil Guy is now online.

[poisoned-peppermint]

Part 4 of incorrect quotes because i feel obligated to make more due to the sheer number of people who liked it

Dream: My dearest beloved fuckos, is a fun, gender-neutral way to begin a speech

George: See also, esteemed bastards

Bad: Gentlefolk, Ferals, and Domesticated cryptids. 

Sapnap: My fellow yees and haws

~~~~~~~

Techno:Hey I know skyrim is revered as a classic but are we just going to ignore the fact that the entire game only had like 3 voice actors

Wilbur:Stop right there criminal cum

Techno:My ancestors are smiling at me, bastard, can you say the same

~~~~~~~

Foolish:When's your bedtime :)

Purpled: Whenever I next collapse in purely up to the gods

~~~~~~

Ranboo:Human skin is a fursuit for skeletons 

Tubbo: i’m going to debone you like a fucking trout

~~~~~~

Bad:You’re enough

Bad: love yourself!!!!!!! or suffer my wrath!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Dream:And by wrath I mean love!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Bad:no I mean wrath!!!!! You reading this, if you don't love yourself I’ll beat you with a stick!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

~~~~~~~

Bad:I hope everyone is today well! And tomorrow!!!! After that you’re on your own.

~~~~~~

Bad:what am I supposed to do all day while you’re at work

Skeppy:I don’t know, what do you normally do while I’m gone

Bad: wait for you to get back

~~~~~~

Velvet:For my next stunt, I’ll wake up at 5am on the day I can sleep in

Ant:Early to bed and early to rise makes a man healthy, wealthy and wise.

Velvet:Early to bed and early to rise makes me a massive bitch

~~~~~~

Tubbo: 3:23 AM make a wish

Ranboo: I wish that you would go to sleep

Tuddo: Yeah well I wish I grew an inch taller every day as you get an inch shorter until you’re as flat as as a piece of paper and I’m 11 feet tall

Ranboo: You’re going to die of a mixture of skeletal instability and heart disease.

Tubbo: Yeah but I’ll look good while doing it.

~~~~~~

Bad:Disrespect me again and I’ll determine your bodies resonant frequency and play a jaunty horn solo that boils your miserable organs inside out 

~~~~~~

Quackity: If I were dating you?  Well, heh. Let’s just say horses wouldn't be called horses anymore

Karl: hey what the honk does this mean…..I’m shaking what does this mean!

~~~~~~

Skeppy: Are you ok?

Bad wrapped in a burrito blanket drinking his 6th cup of coffee: Yes, this is exactly what mental stability looks like

~~~~~~

Sam: My hands are cold

Ponk: *holds their hands*

Ponk: better?

Sam: My lips are cold too

~~~~~~

George at dream��s funeral: can I have a moment alone with them?

Sapnap: of course *leaves*

George leaning over dream’s casket: Now listen, I know you’re not dead.

Dream: yeah no shit

~~~~~~

Skeppy, jokingly: I should have Bad kill you for that.

Bad, peering around the corner: Who do I need to kill?

Skeppy: Wh- no, I was just kidding around.

Bad, pulling out a switchblade: No, who’s bothering you

~~~~~~

Bad *watching the news*: Some idiot tried to fight a squid at the aquarium.

Skeppy *covered in ink*: Maybe the squirt was being a dick.

~~~~~~

Peacock: *spreads feathers at Bad*

Skeppy: It’s trying to attract a mate

Bad, extremely confused: *shyly lifts top*

Skeppy: No!

~~~~~~

Sapnap: Karl, do you eat olives? My dad wants to know

Karl: No, I hate olives. Olives are the spawn of satan. I hate olives so much my mom forced me to live in Mount olive for the rest of my childhood as a curse from the olive gods. Do you understand how much olives have ruined my life? I'm so offended that you asked me that have some consideration for people who have been abused by olives please!

Sapnap: K A R L ……….they’re just olives!!?

Karl: JUST OLIVES EXCUSE!

~~~~~~

Tommy: If you’re bored you can simply close your eyes and rotate a cow in your mind. It’s free and the cops can’t stop you

~~~~~~

Wilbur: is there anyone even named sheldon irl?

Tubbo: my class turtle from 6th grade :)

Wilbur: that’s a turtle

Tubbo: When god sings with his creations, will a turtle not be part of the choir?

~~~~~~

Ranboo: No bcuz why do ppl like salad?? What’s so good about it

Tubbo: chew leaf like god intended

Ranboo: No

Tubbo: Abandon god and see what he does next time you lift your hands in prayer

~~~~~~~

Tommy: Guys, there’s a monster under my bed and it’s really ugly.

Wilbur, on the bottom bunk: Honestly, fuck you.

~~~~~~

Quackity: So according to the cease and desist order I got, apparently you can’t ‘legally’ be a lawyer if your license is ‘cut out of a cereal box’.

~~~~~~

Puffy: If you had too, what would you give up food or sex?

Bad: Sex.

Skeppy: Seriously, answer faster.

Bad: I’m sorry honey, when they said sex I wasn’t thinking about sex with you.

Skeppy: It’s like a giant hug.

Puffy: Ant, what about you? What would you give up sex or food?

Ant: Food.

Puffy: Okay, how about sex or dinosaurs?

Ant: ……...Oh my God it’s like the movie Sophie’s Choice.

Gumi: What about you Velvet? What would you give up sex or food?

Velvet: Oh… um… I don’t know, it’s too hard.

Gumi: No, you gotta pick one.

Velvet: Um, food… no, sex… no, food…sex… food. Ugh! I don’t know! I want both! I- I want Antfrost on bread!

~~~~~~~

Tommy, holding a gun: If the conspiracies about life being a simulation are true WHOEVERS CONTROLLING MY SIM I JUST WANNA TALK.

~~~~~~~

Bad: Why are you guys acting like this?

Boomer: Oh, we’re not acting. We really are like this.

~~~~~~

Techno: Dream has only knocked me out three times this week. Our friendship is really developing.

~~~~~~

Tommy: You’re pathetic!

Wilbur: You’re pathetic-er!

Techno: You’re both losers.

~~~~~~

Bad: I wish I could help you, but I shorn’t.

Skeppy: Bad, please!

Bad: What part of shorn’t don’t you understand?

~~~~~~

Tubbo: Why did you leave Wrestlemania on for Michal?

Ranboo: They need to learn how to protect us.

~~~~~~

Antfrost: I regret getting dragged into your heterosexual tomfoolery.

~~~~~~

Bad: Strawberry milk doesn’t taste like strawberry OR milk.

Skeppy: Go the fuck to sleep Bad!

Bad: LANGUAGE!!

~~~~~~

Ranboo: Tubbo, please calm down.

Tubbo: I asked for two large fries!

Tubbo: *dumps fries onto table*

Tubbo: But all they did was give me a MILLION FUCKING LITTLE ONES!

~~~~~~

Bad: That was the worst throw ever. Of all time.

Skeppy: Not my fault. Somebody put a wall in the way.

~~~~~~

Wilbur: When you’ve been on the internet for as long as I have, you develop thick skin.

Tommy: Navy blue isn’t your color.

Wilbur: Navy blue brings out my eyes you prick! *Chases after Tommy*

~~~~~~

Bad: *Pulls a glass a water from out of nowhere*

Puffy: Where did you get that?.

Bad: My pocket.

Puffy: How do you keep a glass of water in your pocket?

Bad: Skills.

~~~~~~

Tubbo: I will come to your house after work and knock on your window at 11 AM. You will not open the curtains, knowing full well what awaits you, but the knocking only grows louder, more demanding. Finally it stops, your ears ringing. You nervously let out a breath you didn't know you were holding. You're safe now. Minutes pass by and you start to relax. And then you hear a knock at the front door. Like before, you stay still and clutch the blankets around you. You try to tell your self that it's just your imagination. Maybe the milk man? But why would he come so late? Everyone else was asleep, save for Naomi who was playing video games down stairs. To your relief, the knocking stops after a few. Minutes and you breath easy once more. Until you hear a knock on your bedroom door. You don't move. It's just your imagination. She isn't here. She can't be here. You tell yourself, shutting your eyes and willing yourself to sleep. The knock comes again, but with horror you realize that it came from the closet inside your room. You know that you have no choice. You get up, climbing out of bed with shaking limbs. You walk to the closest, trembling, and holding back the tears threatening to spill over your porcelain cheeks. You hesitate with your hand over the closet handle. Maybe it's just your imagination? She's not really there. You can go to sleep and laugh it off in the morning. Your naive thoughts are cut off by another, more demanding knock on the closet door, inches from your face. You know what you have to do. You open the closet door, and there she stands. Chuck e cheese, the mouse looms over you in the dim light. It's soulless eyes boor into you. It raises its arms, and you flinch as it begins to floss at lightning speed. Tears spill over your cheeks. This is the last thing you'll ever see.

Ranboo: Wait, Chuck e cheese’s pronouns are she/her? Trans Chuck e cheese? Good for her.

~~~~~~~~

Bad: Would you like something to drink? *They opened the fridge* We have water, milk, juice, spiders, Dr. Pepper-

Quackity: Spiders?

Bad: Spiders it is then.

Quackity: No, that wasn’t-

*But they were already pouring him a brimming glass of spiders…

~~~~~~

Puffy : Make her pussy wet not her eyes.

Velvet : Make his dick hard not his life.

Punz : Break her bed not her heart.

Skeppy : Play with his boobs not his feelings. 

Ant : Get on his dick not his nerves.

Bad : Always salt your pasta while boiling it.

~~~~~~~

Wilbur: Bet you can’t eat 15 crayons!

Tommy: Bet you I can!

Phil: *sips coffee, checks to make sure 911 is still on speed dial, and goes back to reading the paper*

~~~~~~~

Ant: We need a way to lure in new customers?

Ponk: Maybe we could have some fun, interactive events!

Skeppy: Badboyhalo bath water.

Bad: ABSOLUTELY NOT!

~~~~~~~~

Fundy: GET BACK HERE YOU DUMB FUCK!

Wilbur: LET ME RUN FROM THE CONSEQUENCES OF MY ACTIONS!

~~~~~~~~

Bad: Mint is just cold spicy.

Pummel party Squad: …

Gumi: What the actual fuck is wrong with you.

~~~~~~~~

Quackity: Isn’t it amazing how I can feel so bad and still look so good?

~~~~~~~

Tommy: Why does my arm shake and turn bright red when I’m eating dirt?

Phil:

Phil: Why are you eating dirt?

Tommy: Did I ask you if I should eat dirt? No, so answer my question.

~~~~~~~

Tubbo: I wish I could control wasps and bees to sting my enemies.

Quackity: You’re too young to have enemies.

Tubbo: You don’t even know.

~~~~~~~~

Skeppy: Is there a cactus where your heart should be?

Puffy: What’s up your ass this morning!

Bad: *walks in* …Hi!!

Puffy: Hmm… nevermind.

Skeppy: WAIT NO!

~~~~~~~~

Skeppy: Ha! Don’t you know the trappers trap can trap the trapper?

Skeppy: I must be losing it, I’m quoting Bad.

~~~~~~~

Skeppy: Bad, I sense hostility.

Bad: Good, because I hate you

~~~~~~~

Bad: Are you a painting?

Skeppy: What-?

Bad: Because I want to pin you to a wall.

Skeppy: OH GOD I THOUGHT YOU WERE GOING TO SAY YOU WANTED TO HANG ME OR SOMETHING-

~~~~~~

Tommy: You’re giving me a sticker?

Phil: Not just a sticker. That is a sticker of a kitty saying “me-wow!”

Tommy: I’m not a preschooler.

Phil: Fine, I’ll take it back-

Tommy: I earned this, back off!

~~~~~~

Dream, sweating: George, there’s something I need to ask you-

George: Finally! You’re proposing!

Dream: How’d you know?

George: Dream, you’ve dropped the ring five times during dinner.

George: I even picked it up once

~~~~~~~~

*Bad and Skeppy looking at a locked gate into a park*

Bad: Aw. :(

Skeppy: You know what they say.

Bad: Please don’t-

Skeppy: BE GAY DO CRIME! *hops gate*

Bad: Frick-

~~~~~~~~

let me know if ya’ll want more <3

[artificialqueens]

Level Up, Chapter Twelve (Branjie) - Holtzmanns

AN: I can't even lie, the support on the last chapter and about this fic coming back made me so so incredibly happy. If you're still here and reading and leaving reviews, THANK you, I love hearing your thoughts and reactions and it honestly is why this chapter came pretty speedily. Enjoy and tell me your thoughts! Thank you writ for betaing <3

“How on earth are there seven thousand people watching this Instagram live? They got nothing better to do than talk to our sweaty asses?”

Monique’s eyebrows push together in disbelief as she looks at Vanessa’s phone screen, her eyes scanning the comments and it makes Vanessa snort, turning the camera towards her.

“It was your idea. I was perfectly content catching my breath and drinking some water now that class is done, or maybe, y’know, taking a shower,” Vanessa quips, her eyes flitting across the screen as she watches the comments fly by at light speed. “But you wanted to say hi to your ‘fans.’”

“They love me,” Monique tosses her braids over her shoulder, batting her eyes at the screen. “Right, guys?”

“Oh my god, you’re ridiculous,” Monet drops down beside Monique on the ground, popping her head in front of the screen. “I’m the one that everyone loves. I mean, how can you not?”

“Very easily.” Monique’s deadpan expression makes Vanessa burst into laughter, shaking her head.

“Y’all are nuts, I swear.”

It’s still strange to Vanessa, the way that this is her new normal. The fact that she can open Instagram and start a live and have an audience, the fact that she can post a picture and have famous people showering her with comments. It’s as if her world has tilted, little slivers of light that are shining upon new opportunities she would have otherwise never been able to see.

Like the fact that Detox has inked her a deal with fucking Fenty Beauty, of all companies, as a brand ambassador and now she has a shoot next week and Rihanna, Rihanna, knows who she is.

Rihanna.

It still doesn’t feel real. Hell, maybe Vanessa actually had hit her head real hard during her last match and the whole period since has simply been vivid dreams while she’s in a coma at this very second. Maybe that’s a more likely scenario.

“Hold up, pass me the phone, I got something to say,” Asia holds out her hands, wiggling her fingers, and Monique sticks out her tongue, handing the phone to her.

“You better be quick. I was having fun with the filters.”

Monet scoffs, nudging Monique’s shoulder as she looks over at Vanessa. “Forget about the filters for a sec. Where are we thinking for dinner? That’s the more important thing to focus on.”

Monique pauses. “Well, see, while I’m a fan of that burrito place we went to last week, it did give me major gas, and I don’t wanna smell up any subway cars on the ride home-”

“Nasty- ”

“There’s a such thing as too much information when the people on Instagram live can overhear you, doofus-”

“As I was saying,” Monique continues, her voice a little louder, “I’m down for some Korean food, maybe. Thoughts?”

Vanessa giggles as Monet shakes her head at Monique, who looks entirely nonplussed. “I’m good with Korean.”

As much as things have changed, from the brand deals and the sponsorships and the people on the street who do a double take when they recognize her, Vanessa’s glad that one thing hasn’t. Her friendships.

She’s not sure how she’d take it if Monet and Monique and Asia started to treat her differently, if maybe they’d think she was a sellout or hate her for having a meme that she has no control over. Her friends don’t pretend as if the whole thing hasn’t happened, either, which she’s sure would feel worse. Instead, they roll with everything, getting excited when Vanessa brings them free sponsored items that show up in her mailbox or scrolling through her Instagram comments and screenshotting the hilarious ones. It’s as if they’re all going through it together instead of just her, and honestly, it feels kind of nice.

The Korean restaurant three blocks away from the gym is one that they’ve frequented quite a bit over their weekly dinners, the booths cozy and a perfect bubble for the gossip they can’t necessarily have while in front of a punching bag. And sure, their last few dinners have revolved around Vanessa’s random celebrity encounters on social media, but today the spotlight is on Asia. Or rather, the grumpy manner in which she’s eating her gimbap.

“I said, there’s nothing wrong. I’d tell you if there was,” Asia mutters, shoving a bite into her mouth.

Vanessa exchanges a look with Monet and Monique. Asia’s the queen of denial, the one who draws attention to problems precisely by trying and failing to hide them. When Asia says that nothing’s wrong, she’s fibbing. Majorly.

“You wouldn’t tell us, you’d stew about it like you are now. So, there’s something wrong. Checkmate,” Monique raises an eyebrow, and Vanessa can’t help but turn towards Asia and nod because hey, Monique’s right.

Asia, though, sulks. “No, there isn’t.”

“Asia. Just tell us!” Monet waves her chopsticks in Asia’s face, who wrinkles her nose. “Did we do anything?”

“No, no, not you guys,” Asia sighs, sinking down lower in her seat. “Not you. You know I’d be quick to beef with y’all if you did something wrong.”

Monique nods. “She’s got a point.”

“Then what? Is it Kameron?” Vanessa asks, and Asia’s expression change is immediate, the way her eyes dart a telltale sign that Vanessa’s hit the nail on the head.

“What’d she do? Do we need to fight her? Though, to be fair, not sure if any of us could fight her. Bitch is ripped,” Monique takes a sip of her drink before she can dig herself in a bigger hole, and it makes Vanessa snort.

“That’s the thing, she didn’t do anything,” Asia scowls, as she grabs another bite. “Nothing at all.”

“Nothing? What do you mean, nothing?” Monet’s eyebrows furrow and Vanessa’s sure that she’s making the exact same expression, too.

“Yeah, what’s nothing?”

“Exactly nothing!” Asia huffs. “It’s been months of us just smacking and that’s all we do, aside from talking about the weather or maybe about Bachelor in Paradise ‘cause she watches that too, but...nothing. We haven’t even been on a date or anything. Nothing!”

“Oooh… ” The way Monique’s realization trails off is comical, and Vanessa has to press her lips together to keep from breaking into a laugh because she does feel for Asia, she really does.

Vanessa’s seen her and Kameron come out from the change rooms or from behind one of the punching bags more than once, the two of them looking ruffled from their little makeout sessions. And sure, Vanessa’s thought that the two of them had more going on. At least, more than what she’s seen with her own two eyes.

But evidently not.

“So you’re waiting for her to make the first move?” Monet gives Asia a look. “C’mon, girl. If you want to date her, then ask her out yourself. Stop waiting around if you want more.”

Monique leans forward. “Yeah, what’s that saying? Follow your destiny?”

“Never heard of any saying like that.”

“Oh, shut up.”

Vanessa clears her throat, trying to shoot Asia a reassuring look. “I think the point that these two are trying to make is that Kameron’s definitely into you, too. She wouldn’t be sticking around if she wasn’t. So what’s the worst that can happen if you ask her out? Maybe she’s shy, or something. Wants you to make the first move.”

Asia scoffs. “Shy? That bitch never stops talking once she starts. I swear, that quietness is totally a facade.”

“There you go,” Vanessa nods, smiling. “See? You know her enough that she’s comfortable around you to loosen up.”

“Doesn’t mean I can ask her out,” Asia mutters, letting out a sigh. “What if she says no? What if all she wants is just this casual not-even-a relationship? What if this is the most I’m gonna get without her running for the hills?”

“And what if she doesn’t?” Monet counters. “Hey, anyone who can swap spit with you for months on end has gotta be into it, right?”

“Nasty. Truly nasty,” Asia grumbles, but her posture is less slouched, less defeated. A little more hopeful.

“Maybe she doesn’t want to feel like she’s using her position of power over you, being a coach, and that’s why she’s letting you take the reins,” Monique ponders, as she lifts up a bite of noodles. “So that she doesn’t feel like she’s pressuring you into saying yes.”

“She really wouldn’t have to pressure Asia at all, she’s jumping at a chance to...” Monet trails off when Asia shoots her a narrow-eyed glare. “Sorry.”

Vanessa reaches out to pat Asia’s shoulder because she feels for her, she really does. “You have two choices, really. You either gotta be happy with this current situation you two have going on with all the smacking and breath mints, or you gotta be willing to take a risk for a higher reward. For a chance of more with her. Though it is a huge risk to take-”

Monet winces. “Vanj, ending on that is not encouraging-”

“-look what you can get out of it,” Vanessa finishes, leaning forward in her seat. “Are you really going to be happy with the absolute bare minimum that you’re getting with Kameron? Is it the way you want things to stay? ‘Cause it seems like Kameron is fine with it.”

“Alright there, Doctor Phil,” Asia grumbles, resting her cheek against her hand, “maybe I’ll talk to her. Maybe, though. I don’t do talking.”

“Tell that to my eardrums who had to listen to you complain about your leggings for twenty minutes straight in the change room yesterday,” Monique mutters, before letting out a squeal when Asia kicks her under the table. ” Ow !”

Asia does look lighter, though, as they head out of the restaurant and towards the subway, a spring in her step that definitely had not been there during dinner. Vanessa just hopes that it’s enough, that Kameron’s feeling the same and maybe Asia’s springboard won’t break from under her anytime soon.

It’s one thing to put yourself on the line, but to risk it all? Vanessa’s a romantic and all that, but she’s not sure that she’d be able to go through with something like that herself if it all went sour.

Brooke’s not really sure of what to make of the way that Kameron’s pacing in front of her closet, to the point where she’s about to wear a hole into the floor. That being said, it is fairly entertaining to watch.

“Y’know you haven’t even looked in your closet yet, right? Aren’t you supposed to be picking an outfit to wear for your d-”

“Don’t even finish that word,” Kameron bites out, holding up a finger and Brooke snorts before taking a sip of her water. “What am I even doing?”

“You’re going out with-”

“Ugh,” Kameron sighs, flopping down on her bed beside Brooke. “This isn’t going to end well, is it?”

Brooke turns on her side, facing Kameron. “Not if you keep dithering like this. You’re putting my anxious self to shame.”

Brooke gets it, though. The way that Kameron’s leg is bouncing and the way she’s unable to keep still are both sure signs that her mind is running at a hundred miles an hour. Considering what Kameron’s about to do this evening, Brooke can’t blame her.

“What if I can’t come up with anything to talk about? What if we just sit there awkwardly and twiddle our thumbs for an hour?” Kameron covers her face with her hands, letting out a groan.

“Is what why you only make out with her in a closet like two teenagers?”

“Shut up.”

“You gotta learn how to have big girl conversations sometime or the other, Kam.” Brooke pats Kameron’s shoulder. “You can talk to me just fine. You can talk to Asia too.”

“But you’re just you. Asia is… Asia,” Kameron mumbles, her voice uncharacteristically soft, and Brooke can’t help but let out a snort.

“Thanks for that non-compliment. Very sweet.”

“You know what I mean,” Kameron sighs. “What if she won’t like me when she gets to know me?”

“You’re a catch. Definitely not my kind of catch, but someone’s kind of catch. Maybe Asia’s,” Brooke dodges before Kameron can whap her with a pillow, grinning when she misses. “Besides, Asia already knows you. You two bicker throughout classes and definitely had things to talk about when driving back from the last tournament. Or was that arguing for the entire drive about the appropriate speed limit on the highway? I can’t remember.”

“You’re terrible at pep talks,” Kameron grumbles, rolling onto her back.

“But you’re feeling better, aren’t you?”

“No.”

“Regardless,” Brooke announces, rolling off the bed and grabbing Kameron’s hands to pull her up, too, “we need to pick out an outfit for you. Can’t have you dazzling your star student and date for tonight in your current wine stained joggers. Unless Asia’s into that.”

Brooke gets Kameron into jeans and a tank that shows off her arms and tattoos and Kameron begins to perk up a little at least, looking at herself in the mirror, as Brooke presses an eyeliner pen into her hand.

“Go on. Do your makeup.”

“Do you think she’ll-”

“Yes she’ll find it hot, no you can’t make out with her instead of going on the date. It’ll mess up your lipstick.” Brooke leans back on her hands as she watches Kameron from the bed.

It makes Brooke think, though, as Kameron tousles her hair and slips on a leather jacket and stands a little taller. The fact that Kameron is going on a date with Asia. It’s no secret that the coaches at Brooke’s gym sometimes hook up with the students, despite the fact that it makes Brooke’s nose wrinkle sometimes. It’s relatively harmless, never turning into anything too dramatic. Kameron’s had her own share of them, but this feels...different.

Maybe because Kameron actually cares about impressing Asia, past just the shallow looks and first impressions. She likes Asia and wants Asia to like her too, for more than someone who holds a punching bag for her. Kameron’s toeing the line with Asia from something casual towards something that could be more, and to Brooke, the drop feels real high.

It’s not like they have that much to risk, not really. Sure, a shitty date could make classes awkward for the two of them, though no harm done in the long term. But then why is Brooke’s heart turning over in her chest at the mere idea of it?

She doesn’t know. But she’s going to make her friend look good for her date, that’s for damn sure.

“What shoes?” Kameron holds up a pair of boots in each hand, and Brooke squints as she looks between the two of them.

“The docs.”

“Not too stereotypical?”

Brooke grins. “Way stereotypical. But Asia’s going to eat it up.”

She feels like a mom helping her daughter get ready for her first date. Considering how few dates Kameron has actually been on, how little she takes the leap to get to know people past a shallow level, it somehow feels appropriate.

The sun is beginning to set as Brooke leaves Kameron’s apartment, painting pinks and purples that cast an iridescent glow along the buildings and reflect off of her watch. It’s her second favourite time of the day after sunrise - instead of charging her batteries the way that the oranges and yellows of the morning do, the sunset calms her system, slowing down the thoughts in her brain that go just a little too fast for her liking.

Her phone buzzes when she’s waiting at an intersection, and Vanessa’s name on her screen makes her face break into a smile without her even noticing at first. Maybe it’s just the way that Vanessa’s always so funny, never failing to make Brooke laugh with whatever she comes up with over text.

Vanessa: alert alert Asia is going out with Kam tonight!!!!! Monique and I wanna follow them and see where they go but Monet won’t let us lol

Brooke: LOL. That’s probably for the best. Let the two of them figure it out on their own, y’know?

Vanessa: boooo but that’s boring

Vanessa: Asia said they were going to play something called lob???

Vanessa: tf is that do u know

Vanessa: cuz I thought lob was a haircut

Brooke: Picture mini golf but with small balls that you throw. And without the golf clubs.

Vanessa: haha small balls

Brooke: Really?

Vanessa: IT’S FUNNY

Brooke: It’s a fun game. Went there once some years back and honestly, it feels harder than mini golf. Not that I was good at mini golf.

Vanessa: ok but I’m good at mini golf, does this mean i’d school ur ass if we played

Brooke: Well we’d have to find out and see, wouldn’t we?

Brooke watches the clock at the top of her screen pass by one minute, then another, and Vanessa hasn’t replied, wait, did Brooke say anything wrong? She reads their conversation through again and when her eyes hit the last text…

Wait.

No, it doesn’t sound like she’s asking Vanessa out. Because she’s not trying to. Vanessa’s not, they’re not…

Unless Vanessa’s taking it that way and wants to run for the hills and never speak to Brooke again-

Vanessa: ok lets square up then punk

Phew.

Brooke: Did you just call me a punk?

Vanessa: and what about it??

Brooke: That’s extra burpees for you next practice.

Vanessa: playing dirty!!

Brooke lets out a laugh but it’s more of a shaky exhale than anything else, running a hand through her hair as she walks past the front desk of her apartment building and pushes the button for the elevator. Getting into the elevator alone is a blessing, a chance for her to lean her head back against the mirrors and close her eyes for a second, trying to ignore the way her heart is beating in her chest.

It’s not that she hasn’t thought about it. Brooke has eyes, Vanessa’s beautiful but also now such a good friend but she’s also her student and they’re not like that, they’re not and Brooke doesn’t do relationships-

Ding.

The doors open and it’s almost a relief, in a way, because for a second Brooke gets to pretend that she can leave her worries in the elevator and not bring them into her apartment. But they sweep up on her shore as she unlocks the door, the way they always do when she wants to avoid thinking about something.

Maybe Brooke’s just in her head. Maybe Vanessa hadn’t noticed how her text could have sounded suggestive at all, hell, maybe Vanessa had just been in the bathroom or something and that’s why she hadn’t answered Brooke’s text right away. There’s a million different ways to interpret what had happened, and Brooke’s just working herself up at this point. She knows that.

Problem is, her brain doesn’t always listen.

Yvie’s frowning at a pineapple at the kitchen island when Brooke hangs up her coat and walks into their apartment.

“Not going so well?” Brooke raises an eyebrow at the bent knife in Yvie’s hand and the still-intact pineapple.

Yvie scratches her head. “I really should have just bought the pre-chopped pineapple. But all that wasted packaging, y’know? Figured this was better for the environment.”

“Not for the knife, though.”

“Sadly,” Yvie sighs, letting the knife roll onto the cutting board with a clatter. “I think there’s another one in the utensil drawer somewhere. I’m gonna try again.”

Brooke raises an eyebrow. “Why don’t you look up a tutorial first or something? Maybe there’s an easy way to do it.”

“And ruin the surprise and excitement? Nah,” Yvie shrugs, before grinning. “I’m gonna defeat this pineapple on my own.”

“Have fun with that. And let me know when you’re done so I can have some, too,” Brooke snorts, sitting down on one of the stools at the counter.

Yvie lets out a woo when she pulls another knife out of the drawer, waving it around. “Found it! Nice.”

Brooke leans back on her stool even though Yvie is a good six feet away, because she also remembers the time Yvie accidentally threw a pair of scissors across the room while animatedly telling a story complete with hand gestures. “Careful, Yves.”

“You’re fine. The pineapple is the only one getting murdered tonight.”

“Comforting.”

“Anyways,” Yvie starts, twirling the knife in her hands before lodging it in the side of the pineapple, letting out a curse under her breath. “Is Kameron ready for her date? Did you lend your fashion expertise and all that?”

Brooke shrugs. “Kameron has that part under control. She needed more cheerleading than anything else to actually get herself on the date without clamming up. You know how she gets sometimes.”

Yvie snickers as she yanks the knife back out of the pineapple. “You mean her complete lack of game whatsoever?”

“Yvie!” Brooke admonishes, rolling her eyes when Yvie grins. “I think she’ll be fine with this girl, though. From their constant bickering, they have enough chemistry to warm even Kam up a little bit.”

“Aww. I remember that stage,” Yvie’s face is almost nostalgic, her bottom lip pushing out. “Scarlet and I would always clash in class. Of course, I still found her hot when she was being stupid, but that’s beside the point.”

“And now the only thing you two argue about is about who’s going to hang up first.”

As nauseating as the two of them are, Brooke has to admit that Yvie and Scarlet are kind of cute. The way that they’re making it work despite the fact that they live far away from one another is sweet, as ‘temporary’ as Yvie says their distance is.

“God, I love that bitch,” Yvie’s eyes are almost dreamy, a jarring sight when combined with the knife she’s dangling from her grip. “Speaking of love, what’s the situation with your new lady like? Miss internet sensation herself?”

“What?” Brooke yelps, and the heat that floods to her cheeks is annoying, because from the smug grin on Yvie’s face, she definitely notices. “She’s not my lady. Jeez. I train her.”

“Yeah, yeah. Because that’s what the cuddling on the couch during Chicken Little night looked like. Completely.” Yvie’s look is knowing, too knowing, and it makes Brooke want to fold in on herself, sink under the counter.

“It’s not like that,” Brooke mutters, reaching a hand out for one of the pineapple cubes that Yvie’s successfully chopped and throwing it into her mouth, because it gives her more time to think of something to say.

It’s not. They’re not together, they’re not flirting for Pete’s sake, they’re...they’re Brooke and Vanessa. A washed up coach and an athlete with enough potential and talent and drive to have already made a splash on the boxing world without any professional fights under her belt. Vanessa’s special, more than she knows, and Brooke wants to be the one to nurture that and have a front row seat to her greatness. She’s more than a random person to flirt with and then ghost, she’s more than a sham of a relationship. She’s permanent. At least, Brooke wants her to be.

Desperately.

And not losing Vanessa in the future means that Brooke has to avoid doing anything to ruin whatever it is that they have between them.

“Okay. Tell that to the way you guys were snuggled together like two little puppies or something. It was kind of adorable.” Yvie pops a cube of pineapple into her own mouth, throwing another towards Brooke.

“We weren’t snuggled together,” Brooke mumbles as she chews the pineapple, shrugging when Yvie scoffs and rolls her eyes. “What?”

“So what was it, then? Huddling for warmth? In an apartment with a broken AC that’s always warm, anyway?”

“I don’t know what to tell you, Yves,” Brooke lifts up her hands in surrender. “She’s my student. We’re not doing anything.”

“Y’know what I think? I think you don’t know what to tell yourself. And that’s why you’re avoiding thinking about it,” Yvie says, holding up another cube. “Want some more?”

“Don’t you have to go Facetime Scarlet or something instead of pressing me about Vanessa? God,” Brooke grumbles. “Yes to the pineapple, by the way.”

Yvie snickers as she grabs a bowl, filling it with a handful of cubes. “You’re grumpy when you’re forced to confront your feelings.”

“There are no feelings.”

“Keep telling yourself that. Denial may be a river in Egypt, but it’s also very entertaining on you.”

“Oh, shut up,” Brooke groans, resting her cheek on her palm with her elbow against the counter. “Now go have phone sex with your girlfriend while I get my earplugs out.”

“And I’ll enjoy it, thank you very much,” Yvie singsongs as she waltzes into her bedroom, kicking the door closed and leaving Brooke alone in the kitchen.

She’s sure about what she’s said to Yvie. There are no feelings. Well, friendship feelings, and feelings of caring for Vanessa as a person because she’s pretty damn great and a wonderful person, but...not those kinds of feelings.

Brooke doesn’t do those kinds of feelings. Not when they end the way so many other things do, not when relationships don’t ever last the way that they promise to. Brooke doesn’t need her time with Vanessa to end anytime soon.

Besides, platonic cuddling is a thing. Brooke has snuggled up against Kameron’s bicep more than once during their athlete days on the drives to tournaments. Not that it was ever that comfortable back then, but hey, maybe Asia will like it now.

Maybe she and Vanessa can go play lob at the bar one day at the bar that Kameron’s taken Asia to - not as a romantic thing, because they’re not like that, they’re not, but because Vanessa’s competitive streak is adorable. Something that Brooke loves to see but also something that pushes Vanessa to be a great athlete and is almost mesmerizing to watch.

So, yeah. Lob as friends.

Brooke’s going to emphasize the ‘friends’ part when she asks Vanessa. More to calm herself down about it, than anything else.

[cbnc]

[amintyworld]

Dream SMP Written Animatic: For the First Time In Forever

(What is a written animatic, you say? Imagine an animatic but in script form. I have no art ability whatsoever, but this idea has been getting at me for weeks, and it's too good not to post. * will be for singing parts, () for descriptions and actions, and '' for talking. Anyways, enjoy!)

TW: Long post

Quick Summary: It's Michael's 16th birthday, meaning that for the first time in his young life he'll be allowed to go outside and meet people, being old enough and trained enough to protect himself.

-----------------------------------

(Tubbo hums as he walks down the hall, getting to a door and knocking.)

Tubbo: 'Michael? You've gotta get up, it's time to get ready.'

(Michael is in a blanket burrito in his bed, his best chicken looking at him from the nightstand, annoyed at its failed earlier attempts to wake him up.)

Michael, yawning: 'Ready for what...?'

Tubbo, smirking and shaking his head on the other side of the door: It's your sixteenth birthday party?

Michael, shifting: 'My... my sixteenth...?'

(Michael's eyes land on the calendar on his wall, today's date circled over 20 times. His eyes widen as he smiles. We go back to Tubbo n the other side of the door as it swings open, the zombie piglin running out into the hallway, already dressed with his chicken running after him. Tubbo just barely manages to dodge the door hitting him in the face as he laughs at his son's excitement.)

Michael, giggling excitedly: 'It's my birthday!'

Tubbo, smiling and laughing: 'Be careful!'

(Michael slides down the ladder, rushing toward the hallway.)

Michael: *The window is open, so's that door*

Michael, leaning down to pick up his chicken and talking to it: *I didn't know they did that anymore!*

(Michael looks down at the dining room with a large table, excited.)

Michael: *Who knew we owned a thousands salad plates?!*

(Michael rushes down another hall, his chicken on top of his head.)

Michael: *For years I've roamed these empty halls*

(Michael slides through the ballroom.)

Michael: *Why have a ballroom with no balls?*

(As Michael slides through the ballroom he gains speed, the chicken barely holding on.)

Michael: *Finally they're opening up the gates!*

(He crashes into a wall, then we go to a shot of Michael looking at all the paintings and pictures of not just him and his fathers but Tommy, Fundy, Jack, and Phil.)

Michael, talking to his chicken: *They'll be actual real live people, it'll be totally strange.*

(Michael excitedly spins his chicken around in a circle and the chicken gets dizzy.)

Michael: *But WOW am I so ready for this change!*

(Michael walks out into the balcony, the chicken following at his heels.)

Michael: *'Cause for the first time in forever, they'll be music, they'll be light. For the first time in forever, I'll be dancing through the night.*

Michael, looking at his chicken who jumped to the balcony railing, shrugging: *Don't know if I'm elated or gassy, but I'm somewhere in that zone.*

(Michael leans out of the balcony slightly toward the sun.)

Michael: *'Cause for the first time in forever, I won't be alone.*

Michael: 'I can't wait to meet everyone. Wait... what if I meet... the one?'

(Michael's chicken tilts its head in confusion. We cut to a shot of the two friends in the library, a book open on the table in front of them.)

Michael, an overdramatic enactment until he trips on a pile of books: *Tonight, imagine me suit and all, fetchingly draped against the wall, the picture of sophisticated grace - OOF!*

Michael, looking at a illustration in the book of a romantic couple at a ball: *I suddenly see them standing there, a beautiful stranger tall and fair. I wanna stuff some chocolate in my face-!*

Michael, putting his head in his hands and daydreaming : *But then we laugh and talk all evening, which is totally bizarre. Nothing like the life I've lead so far!*

Michael looking through the book and smiling: *For the first time in forever, they'll be magic, they'll be fun. For the first time in forever, I could be noticed by someone...*

Michael turning to his chicken: *And I know that it's totally crazy, to dream I'd find romance, but for the first time in forever... at least I've got a chance.*

(We cut over to Ranboo, a cold glass of water in front of him on the table.)

Ranboo, sitting in the chair and rubbing his forehead: *Don't let them in, don't let them see. Be the good guy you always have to be.*

Ranboo, taking a deep breath: *Conceal.*

Ranboo, reaching toward the glass: *Don't feel.*

(Ranboo grabs the glass, sitting up and raising it into the air.)

Ranboo: *Put on a show.*

(The mirror across form him shows his eyes turning purple as he hisses from the condensation, dropping the glass on the table, smashing it and spilling the drink.)

Ranboo: *Make one wrong move and everyone will know.*

Ranboo, closing his hand into a fist: *But it's only for today.*

(Michael smiles as Tubbo helps with the suit cuffs.)

Michael, smiling: *It's only for today!*

Ranboo, moving toward the door: *It's agony to wait*

Michael, moving toward his the main staircase: *It's agony to wait!*

(Ranboo opens the door and looks over at a servant.)

Ranboo: *Tell the guards to open up... the gates...*

(Michael's eyes light up as the doors open, people piling inside.)

Michael: The gates!

(Ranboo and Tubbo descend the stairs first, Michael behind them.)

Michael: *For the first time in forever*

Ranboo: *Don't let them in, don't let them see.*

Michael: *I'm getting what I'm dreaming of*

Ranboo: *Be the good guy you always have to be*

Michael: *A chance to change my lonely world*

Ranboo: *Conceal.*

Michael: *A chance to find true love!*

Ranboo: *Conceal, don't feel, don't let them know.*

(Michael continues to descend the stairs until...)

Michael: *I know it all ends tomorrow, so it has to be today! 'Cause for the first time in forever, for the first time in forever.... Nothing's in my way!*

(He trips and falls in front of everyone.)

[crashdevlin]

Bottle- 9: Rising Up

Bottle Masterlist

Author’s Note: Originally posted to ao3 (This is an edited and improved version), I work in info from the comics (Like Hawkeye was married to Mockingbird and Red Skull had a disappointing daughter) and I took a few liberties with what the scepter could do (but not really because the Mind Stone was used to create the Twins so what I did is not that far-fetched). This is a lot more angst than I realized when I wrote it, but it’s compelling angst.

Summary: Cassandra Campbell is a Stark Industries lab tech with dubious genetics and a history with the new Director of SHIELD. She’s been working in New York since right before the Chitauri invasion. What does she have to do with Loki, and what will happen when he returns? Starts post TDW and continues to the end of AoU.

Pairing(s): Phil Coulson x OFC (Past), Loki x OFC (Non-con), Clint Barton x OFC, Steve Rogers x OFC

Word Count: 1572

Story Warnings: So many, worst (to me) are bolded. Younger woman/older man relationship,non-con, mutilation, torture, mind control, PTSD, depression, alcoholism, forced abortions, bad things (non-con) in a church, insomnia, memory manipulation, eventual consensual oral sex (female and male receiving),

Chapter Warnings: Bad Google Translate German!, 

Cassie rode the elevator down to level 69 and walked up to her door. She stood for several minutes, staring at the handle. "Would you like for me to open the door to your apartment, Miss Campbell?" Jarvis asked over an invisible speaker.

She took a deep breath, steadying her breathing like Clint had been preaching at her several hours before. "Yes, please, Jarvis. Thank you."

The door flung open, forcing her to move her feet forward and into the apartment. She took a moment to thoroughly check every room, closet and dark corner for signs of Loki, before sitting down on the couch and bendy down to take off her boots. She looked around. "I think I can do this." She laid back on the couch and closed her eyes. "No fighting my destiny. I can do this."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Wake up, Queenie," a soft voice whispered.

Cassie woke, peacefully opening her eyes. "What time is it?" she asked, sitting up and stretching her arms out above her head.

Clint smiled at her from his spot, sitting directly in front of her on her coffee table. "0600. I woulda let you sleep longer, but Jarvis swears you were in REM by 8 last night." He handed her a brown paper bag with savory smells that made her mouth water. "Breakfast burrito."

She tore into the bag, hunger hitting her hard. As she bit into the burrito, he cleared his throat. "So, I called Fury. You field-stripped your gun a little too well, ya know? So, apparently, 10 year old Junior was gonna be a soldier, whether her genetics said 'Super' or not. Fury said they washed it away. Made you forget."

"'at eshains it." She took a moment to swallow her burrito before clearing her throat. "That explains why I could do so much of this Ops shit as Joanna. I have access to different parts of myself as her. I remember my time in Der Spielplatz when I'm her. I don't, really, when I'm me. So, what, as you're training me, this Hydra training might bleed through?"

"I don't think it will be a big deal. I don't think you'll end up shouting 'Hail Hydra' just because I teach you how to shoot a gun, but we might want to keep it on the down low that Fury might've accidentally turned you into a sleeper agent." Cassie glared, playfully, crumbling up the paper bag and tossing it at Clint's face. He ducked. "Wow, good aim."

She smiled and stood up. Clint followed. "So, what? Back up to the training room to breathe some more?"

Clint nodded. "I was thinking some hand-to-hand training today. See how much you remember from your tiny commando training days."

"Es ist wie fahrrad fahren können. Ja? [It’s like riding a bike. Yes?]"

"Wir werden sehen [We’ll see]," Clint said, walking toward her door. Cassie liked the thick thud of his boots on her hardwood floors. There was a safety in the sound. She grabbed a pair of gloves from a drawer where she'd placed them months before and followed Clint out.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Three hours later, Cassie was sitting at a table in a conference room on one of the lower levels, waiting for Clint to come back. When Clint walked back in, he was followed by Maria Hill and Natasha Romanoff. "I'm telling you... she's good to go on this mission."

"And I'm telling you, there's no possible way," Maria said, pulling out her chair and sitting across from Cassie.

"Not after only two training sessions," Romanoff chipped in.

"Hydra had plenty of time with me," Cassie said. Clint shook his head, disappointed. "Clint thinks I shouldn't tell anybody. Some kinda sleeper agent thing. Whatever. Hydra taught me how to fight. Started on me with it when I was very young. By the time SHIELD got to me, I was well-trained. Enough that Fury wiped it from my mind once he got me to the Fridge. I guess being Joanna jostled it out of my memory. Training with Clint brought it back the rest of the way."

"And you want us to take you out to a Hydra base? How do we know that you haven't been activated and you want to go with us to sabotage us?" Natasha asked.

"Ich bin nicht dumm, Romanoff [I’m not dumb, Romanoff]. And I have, since I was Joanna, put a handsome ex-SHIELD agent in his place when he tried to take me back to Hydra. I could have gone with him. If I were a whore or a spy, I would have. I am not stupid. I am not Hydra. If I were, why would I tell you how I learned? I could have lied."

"Should've lied." Clint provided.

"Could've said I learned while I was with Loki, but I told the truth because I didn't want to lie to you guys. You're supposed to be my teammates."

Maria looked at Natasha and gave an exaggerated shrug before she sighed. "I trust Clint's judgment on this. He is the one who watched her for two years. If he says she's fit for the field and... isn't a double agent, that's good enough for me."

"But he was watching her because Fury thought she might be using Coulson to gain information for enemy forces."

"Like you and all the rest of SHIELD were doing?" Cassie snapped.

"Hey!" the three SHIELD agents looking at her whined in unison.

"No. You don't get to do that. See, Phil told me stuff. Stuff I wasn't supposed to know. I did nothing with that. You and the rest of SHIELD spent seventy-five years gathering information for Hydra. You and the rest of SHIELD were Hydra. I never left them. I could have turned out to be one of them, but I turned out to be a good person. Even my dark side has a respect of human life. I am a good woman. I am the only person in this room who has never killed anyone. Let me do this. Lassen sie mich diese arbeit zu tun. Lassen sie mich ein Avenger sein. [Let me do this job. Let me be an Avenger]."

"You know you go into German when you're frustrated?" Maria asked, amused.

"It's all I spoke for two months! And ten years." She sighed. "I have to do this. I have to have a purpose. I need this as my purpose. Let me be an Avenger."  

"I don't think Natasha is saying that you shouldn't be an Avenger, I think she wants to make sure-" Clint started, but Cassie cut him off.

"Don't speak for her, Clint. She doesn't want me to go. She doesn't want me on the team. She thinks I'm trying to string you along, come between the team by wriggling into you and Steve's hearts. She called me a cocktease. That's what Natasha Romanoff thinks of me. That's how she judges me," Cassie said, her eyes never leaving Romanoff.

"I won't apologize for my voicing my suspicions. And for the record, Clint, I just told her that she needed to choose. The way she cries on your shoulder about not knowing who she is, and comes to you for training after spending two days away from the Tower doing who knows what. And I caught the look she gave Steve when we first brought her in, and then I find her in a closed room with Steve, talking about that second date he promised her."

"If you were listening to that entire conversation, then you know that I told him that I didn't want to go on that second date, that I just wanted it to stop being awkward between us."

"I hear more than just the words. I hear the tone. That 'fuck me' whisper."

"Oh, my god! You... you... okay, bitch. I'm going to Steve and Tony. You don't run shit around here. I'm going to the bosses," Cassie said, shooting to her feet and stomping out of the room.

"Damn it, Nat!" Clint groaned, before following Cassie out. He caught up to her as she walked into the elevator, grabbing her hand and gently pushing her against the elevator wall. As the doors closed, she stared up at him. "I don't agree with Nat," he whispered.

Her eyes tore away from his, trying to not get caught in his deep blues. "She's right. I want you both. That's why I determined not to try for either of you. That's why I told Steve I just wanted to get rid of the awkwardness. I can't have you both, so I am not trying to be with either one."

"That's not going to work," Clint said, putting his left hand out to push the red stop button. "I don't know, exactly, how Steve feels about you, but I can't stop thinking about you. It was a huge motivator to finding you in Austria. I found you and I'm not going to let Steve have you, just like I'm not going to let you walk away or let Nat chase you away," Clint whispered into her left ear, causing shivers to run down her spine.

"If I give in here, Clint, then she is right. She's right about me. Don't make me be what she thinks of me."

Clint pulled away and pulled the red button back out. "Jarvis, take us to the penthouse."

"Right away, Agent Barton."

KITCHEN SINK TAGS @heyitscam99 @wonderlandfandomkingdom @unlikelysamwinchesteronahunt @mrs-meghan-winchester @henrymorganme @lonely-skys @allykat2108

[insidetheposter]

Phil Guy Puscifer Portland Poster Foil Variant Artist Edition Burrito Breath 2022 https://insidetheposter.com/products/phil-guy-puscifer-portland-poster-foil-variant-artist-edition-burrito-breath-2022?utm_source=dlvr.it&utm_medium=tumblr

[empounce]

Brock Rumlow x Reader

Chapter 9

Chapter 1 . Chapter 2 . Chapter 3 . Chapter 4 . Chapter 5 . Chapter 6 . Chapter 7 . Chapter 8

You follow Lauren, Pierce's assistant, as she leads you to the door. She motions for you to go in, and leaves you to stand there alone.

You take a deep breath, and slowly open the door. Pierce is sitting behind his desk looking over various papers. He doesn't look up, but motions for you to take a seat.

You notice there's a second seat today, one is occupied with a middle-aged looking man. You take the other seat, and exchange a slight nod to the other man.

"This is Agent Coulson." Pierce looks up at the two of you and folds his hands on the desk in front of him. "I'm assigning you to him for a few days. Anything he says, you do it." He stares at you for a moment before returning his attention back to the documents on his desk. "That is all, you may both leave."

You both stand and exit, Coulson jogging forward to open the door for you. You smile in appreciation and wait as he walks out behind you.

"It's a pleasure to meet you." He smiles and offers you a hand, you shake it and note that he seems much more energetic outside of Pierce's office. Understandable. "I hear you're on Rumlow's Strike team. That's some badass stuff..like...working with the Captain all the time." His smile widens and he almost seems like a giddy school girl.

You can't help but laugh and smile, his enthusiasm is extremely contagious. "It's definitely exciting, to be honest I was always a huge fan of Steve's. It's almost surreal to know him personally."

Coulson's jaw drops. "You mean...you know know the Captain? You don't just work together, you actually...hangout?"

"Yes?..." You chuckle again at his disbelief. "Maybe I can introduce you to him sometime?"

His eyes go wide. "A-are you s-serious?" He squeals excitedly like a little girl, and you look around to ensure no one is watching.

"Yeah...but you gotta promise not to do that." You laugh, and he nods enthusiastically.

Two days later:

"So I'm sure you're excited to be getting back to normal, I'm sure playing body guard the last few days hasn't exactly been cupcakes and pumpkin lattes." You laugh at Coulson's choice of words, you had gotten rather used to his child-like sense of humor during your time together.

It's kinda nice actually. You frown to yourself as you realize you're going to miss him.

"Oh don't look so sad, Pierce will be glad you passed his little test. Maybe you can go on some real missions now, huh?" He looks excited for a moment, then covers his hand with his mouth as he realizes he said something he shouldn't. "I mean...um...What? Did you hear someone call me?" He turns to flea but you grab his arm.

"Wait...what did you say?" You stand in front of him to block his path.

He fidgets for a moment before glancing around, and waits as someone walks by with a cart of office supplies before pulling you closer to whisper. "I'm not supposed to say anything. Pierce wanted to put you with someone he trusted to sort of test you out, make sure you were really ready. Rumlow vouched for your physical abilities, but he wanted to make sure that in a tough spot you'd be able to think your way out too." He pauses for a moment to glance around again. "But hey, bright side, you passed! So we can forget this conversation ever happened." He stands up straighter and casually fixes his jacket as he changed the subject. "Do you smell donuts? I want donuts. Do you want a donut?" He grabs your arm and tugs you along with him. "Let's go get donuts."

You go to the cafeteria, and as Coulson orders himself donuts you decide on a breakfast burrito.

As you sit, you look up to see Coulson has already devoured two donuts.

"Impressive." You laugh, and he looks at you with glaze flakes stuck around his mouth, making you laugh harder.

"What's so funny?" He asks, reaching up to touch his face before he starts laughing too.

"Thanks for telling me earlier." You whisper to him, leaning across the table slightly. He looks at you with a slightly bewildered expression. "I'm no idiot Coulson, I know you let it slip on purpose."

He smiles and gives you a slight nod.

"You know..." You start, leaning back in your chair with a wicked grin. "Steve is coming over tonight to sort of welcome me back. Maybe you could come by?"

Almost choking on a bite of donut, he nods furiously until he can talk. "Yes!! That would be great. Yes yes yes. Please. Yes."

That evening:

You go to unlock your door, but it's already unlocked. You turn to Coulson, who has tagged along excitedly. "Looks like someone's already here."

He can't hold back the giddy smile any longer, he's practically bouncing in his excitement.

You laugh as you open the door. Steve, members from your team, and various others are standing in your apartment yelling surprise.

You turn to Coulson and narrow your eyes at him.

He take a step back and puts his hands up defensively. "Hey, it wasn't me."

"It was my idea." Steve comes up to you and gives you a hug. "Pierce said you passed his last little test, so I thought-" He motions around at the Congratulations sign and various balloons, then shrugs as he starts to blush.

"Thanks Steve." You hug him again. "I love it. Oh! And there's someone I'd like you to meet." You motion to Coulson, who looks like he might faint from pure joy.

"Hi! I'm Phil Coulson, huge fan." They shake hands, but Coulson doesn't let go. "I can't believe I'm finally meeting you. I have all your playing cards." Still shaking his hand. "I can't believe this is real. I'm rambling aren't I? You would tell me if I was randomly wouldn't you? Oh god, I can't shut up." He looks down at his hand still shaking Steve's. "I'm still shaking your hand. I can't quit. Seriously, someone help."

You laugh as Steve drops his hand.

"Always good to meet a fan." Steve smiles at him. "Would you like for me to autograph those cards?"

Coulson just stares at him for a moment in disbelief before shaking himself and digging around in his jacket pockets.

You shake your head, chuckling as Steve signs various things Coulson hands to him. You move to your kitchen and grab a drink as you watch everyone visit amongst themselves. A few guys from your team are hitting on a few girls from the lab, and failing horribly.

You spend the next few hours mingling and receiving various congratulations from everyone before they pile out of your apartment. Coulson thanks you repeatedly for 'completing his life', which makes Steve blush every time.

Steve stays behind to help you clean up, but has to leave soon after.

You find yourself alone in your apartment, staring out your balcony window as you enjoy the light breeze.

You're interrupted by a knocking at your door. Maybe Steve forgot something?

You open the door and see Rumlow. What's even more confusing is he's not wearing combats. You've never actually seen him wear regular clothes, but he's wearing dark jeans and a white t-shirt.

"I missed the party didn't I." He frowns as he looks behind you to your empty apartment.

You smile slightly, torn between being happy to see him and knowing he's just your commander. You stand aside. "Come on in, there's still cake."

He flashes you a small smile as he steps inside your apartment.

You close the door and turn to find him facing you.

"I um.." He scratches the back of his head, then reaches into his back pocket. "I'm not really good at this, so..here." He pulls out a rectangular black box, and holds it out to you.

You look at the box, then glance up to him.

"It's not just a box you know, there's something inside." He holds the box out further for you to take it.

You wrap your fingers around it. Wow. "It's heavy?" You say, slightly confused, but he just grins at you and nods for you to open it.

You slowly remove the lid, and feel your breath catch as you see what's inside. You run your fingertips along the cool metal. First tracing the beautiful swirls and patterns on the hilt, then the length of the blade itself. When closed it was the length of your palm, but the blade was razor sharp and serrated to be deadly.

You look up at Rumlow, and he nods towards the knife. "Flip it over."

You're confused, but you flip it over to see your initials engraved in intricate lettering on the blade.

"You didn't have to." You breathe.

He shrugs and scratches the back of his head.

You tuck the blade in your pocket and wrap your arms around his neck, tightly hugging him. You must have surprised him because it takes him a moment to embrace you in return.

His cologne smells of leather with a hint of pine, it's intoxicating. You reluctantly pull away and attempt to distract yourself. "So how about some cake?"

He nods and follows you to the kitchen. You hand him a plate with a rather large slice and he looks up at you.

You shrug and pout as you point to the three remaining cakes. "There's SO much left. I can't eat it all by myself." You get a second piece, equally large, for yourself and glance at him. "Well...I could, but then I'd get sick."

He laughs and follows you to the balcony.

"How did you score the view?" He asks through a mouth of cake.

You shrug. "All I did was ask if any rooms had a view."

He shakes his head and takes another large bite. You laugh and he smiles back at you, shrugging. "I like cake, alright?"

He helps you tidy up the kitchen, then asks where the restroom is. You point him in the right direction before heading out on the balcony yourself. You lean against the rails and look out towards the water, letting out a breath and smiling to yourself.

You let your hair down and close your eyes to enjoy the breeze. You feel someone watching, and turn to see Rumlow leaned against the door frame. He looks away and scratches the stubble on his jaw.

"I uh..I had better get going." He glances out at the darkening sky. "It's getting pretty late."

You nod and follow to lock the door after him.

He opens the door and turns to face you. "Thanks for the cake." He smiles wraps an arm around your waist to give you a side hug.

You wrap both your arms around his neck, forcing him to fully embrace you. "Thank you for the blade." You squeeze him tight and kiss his cheek before pulling away.

He blushes slightly. Then tries to play it off by clearing his throat and brushing his fingers back through his hair.

"Goodnight Rumlow." You smile, he nods and returns the smile before leaving.

You lock up and sit on your couch, holding the blade he gave you. It really is gorgeous. even if I'm not entirely sure why he gave it to me. You bite your lip and think of how he watched you at the balcony, and of the time you almost kissed. Then you frown. He's my commander. You sigh and lean your head back, closing your eyes. An extremely handsome one though...

(Not my GIF)

 Chapter 10 .  Chapter 11 . Chapter 12 . Chapter 13 . Chapter 14 . Chapter 15 . Chapter 16 . Chapter 17 . Chapter 18 . Chapter 19 . Chapter 20 . Chapter 21 . Chapter 22 . Chapter 23 . Chapter 24 . Chapter 25 . Chapter 26 . Chapter 27 . Chapter 28 . Chapter 29 . Chapter 30 . Chapter 31

[allthephils]

Repose

Word count: 2677 Rated M (mentions of sex, adult themes, sleeping beauty au)

Read on Ao3

Chapter 6

What are you willing to do?

What was he willing to do? Phil sat down on the closest pew and folded his hands under his chin. He didn’t know how to answer that question. There seemed to be an assumption that Phil was the key to all of this, that he and Dan were destined to be together and that only their love would satisfy the curse. Phil found it a little harder to breathe under all that pressure. Of course he loved Dan, he would always love Dan, but the truth was, he had moved on. He had loved again, more than once, if not totally successfully. He still felt that Dan was the person he would later describe as the love of his life, once he had lived enough life to say that sort of thing. The threat of losing him, not just romantically, but truly losing Dan, had brought buried feelings to the surface and Phil wasn’t sure if he could trust his own heart right now. Dan had made the choice, he didn’t want Phil. So why then, almost 5 years later, was Dan’s family so convinced that Phil was the one?

“Your highness.” Phil kept his eyes to the floor in front of him.

“Please, call me Danielle. This situation is too important for all of that nonsense.”

He lifted his eyes to meet hers and smiled slightly. “Danielle, I’m at a bit of a loss here. Dan and I haven’t spent any time together in years. I moved on and judging by what I saw in the tabloids so did he.”

Danielle huffed quietly and waved a dismissive hand. Adrian reached up from where he sat to take his mother’s hand and encouraged her to join him. She sat stiffly on the edge of the wooden seat.

“I’m just not sure if what Dan and I had is going to cut it, curse wise, I mean.” Phil considered the account of Dan’s health from his meeting with Prince Walter. “However, if my presence had even a small positive effect on Dan, I think it makes sense to try.”

“So you’ll kiss him?” Her voice was so hopeful, so frightened, it broke Phil’s heart to respond.

“No.” Phil took a deep breath as he watched her face fall. He wasn’t going to budge on this. “And I’m not signing anything. But what if I spend some more time with him and we see what happens? I was only in there for 3 minutes. What if I sit with him? Talk to him. For an hour or two or all day. They say that sort of thing helps coma patients.”

“This isn’t a coma.” Danielle snapped at Phil.

“I know.” He spoke softly. “I know. But it helped before, maybe more time with me will bring more change. I want the same thing you want, Danielle. I want Dan to come back to us. Let’s just take it one day at a time.”

Danielle nodded a small affirmation and Adrian breathed a sigh of relief, wrapping an arm around her.  

“Can we start now?” Adrian asked.

“What about the suitors?” Phil had almost forgotten about all that.

“We haven’t let anyone in since yesterday. They’re still lined up, people camped out.” Adrian stood and kissed his mum on her head. “We should be able to get you in without anyone seeing.”

“Ok.” Phil stood. “Let’s go see Dan then.”

He followed Adrian back outside. The walk to the guest apartments, where Dan was being kept, was fairly long. Adrian’s hands were in his pockets as he shuffled along. Phil wanted so badly to ask about Dan. How had he been these last few years? How was uni? Did he mention Phil often? What had he said? How did they get here? Instead he stayed quiet, understanding that it wasn’t time for his needs to be met right now. He could ask Dan all those questions himself and soon as he woke up so he resolved to focus on that and that alone. They entered a side door not unlike the one from the morning, walked down several hallways, and came to set of double doors. It was the interior entrance to the operating theatre, as it was known. Adrian and Phil stopped and stared at one another until Phil broke the silence.

“Would you like to spend some time with him first? I don’t know how much you’ve been able to see him, with all of this going on.”  

“Nah, he doesn’t even know I’m there.” Adrian kept his eyes down.

“Don’t say that. Of course he knows when you’re there, you’re his brother.” Phil put a hand on his arm.

“We weren’t close. I was such a dick to him. I’m the last thing he needs right now.” Adrian’s lip quivered.

“None of that matters, Adrian. You’re brothers. All brothers are dicks to each other sometimes. God, I used to torment Martyn at your age, but he means the world to me. Dan loves you so much. He told me. He talked about you and your future and he worried. He loves you.”

“Well,” Adrian looked at Phil. “he loves you more. So please just help him.”

Phil felt the weight of his role in this again, heavier this time. He wasn’t sure he could move. He tried to convey sympathy and compassion in the look he gave to this kid standing with him, this kid with so much to lose. Phil swallowed and heaved a deep, full breath. He squared his shoulders and stepped forward, opening the door. 

 The sun streamed in through Phil’s window, seeping through his closed eyelids and warming his cheeks. He arched his back, stretching under the covers, then curled around onto his side and buried his face in the pillow. He wasn’t ready to admit he was awake despite the assault of daylight. As he snuggled the duvet tighter around himself, it occurred to him that he was shirtless, in just his pants. His half asleep brain began to remember; Dan had been in his room, Dan had gotten him a glass of water, Dan had seen him shirtless! He had only moments to be mortified because his next memory was the feel of Dan’s lips on his cheek and his fingers in Dan’s hair. His heart fluttered and he stretched his legs, feeling the warmth of desire spread through him. Maybe it was silly to to feel anything but romantic about a kiss like that but Phil had long ago filed Dan in the 18+ part of his brain and there was no fighting it. Dan just breathing was sexy to Phil and the thought of him caring so sweetly for him, then kissing him so tenderly was, well, really fucking hot. He ran his finger over his chest and slowly began to move his hand lower on his body, eyes still closed softly. Just before things got really good, his phone rang out on the nightstand. He rolled toward the sound, grabbed his glasses and squinted at the bright screen.   

Dan: I had a great time last night.

Phil blushed. He felt like he’d been caught in the act and he laughed at himself as he formulated his response. Eyeing Dan’s last message, Phil typed.  

Phil: The most fun you’ve ever had?

Dan: I stand by that statement.

Phil: Thanks for taking care of me last night. No one’s ever done that for me.

Dan: You have a funny effect on me, Phil Lester.

Phil. :) I had a great time too. At least, the parts I remember were great.

Dan: Hmm. Do you remember stealing me away from Iris Spencer?

Phil: Yep

Dan: Do you remember laying your head on my shoulder on the balcony?

Phil: I do.

Dan: Do you remember biting me?

Phil: I’m sorry, what?

Dan: After we’d been on the balcony a while. We were talking about the stars, finding shapes. You bit my shoulder. You kinda clawed at me too.

Phil: Oh god. I’m just gonna go jump out the window now. Bye forever.

Dan: No! Don’t do that. I was planning on keeping you around for a while. Don’t worry, it was cute. I took it as a compliment.

...

Dan: When can I see you again?

Phil considered playing it cool, pretending to be busy again, but Dan had literally tucked him in last night. Maybe they were already past that.

Phil: Literally anytime.

Dan: Yay! Wednesday?

Phil: Sure. You wanna get dinner somewhere?

Dan: I’m kinda not allowed to go anywhere that’s open.

Dan: Sorry I’m not normal.

Phil: Normal is boring. You wanna come over here? I’m a terrible cook but we can order in.

Dan: I would kill for real life delivery pizza.

Phil: Hopefully, it won’t come to that.

Phil: 7?

Dan: 7 it is. I can’t wait. xo

 3 days is a long time to wait for a date with someone you’ve crushed on from afar for months. It’s a long time to wait when you aren’t totally convinced this isn’t all a dream. Phil tried his best to stay busy. He made a video and put it up. He filmed a gaming video. He did a live show and spent the whole time talking about Stephen King but thinking about Dan and he had lunch with Louise twice. He cleaned his apartment to a level that he had never attained before. Dan grew up at Windsor castle and is currently staying at Buckingham palace, so yeah, no pressure. Every little thing that happened, every cute dog, every strange encounter on the tube, he wanted to tell Dan. He mostly resisted that urge. Unfortunately, day drinking margaritas with Louise loosened him up a bit and he sent a selfie cradling his giant burrito in his arms like it was a baby. To be fair, it was a really big burrito, and Louise was egging him on mercilessly. Dan responded with a photo of himself, pouting, bottom lip sticking out, looking down at a plate of very dignified but very sad looking finger sandwiches.

“Gah, he’s so cute!” Phil held the photo up for Louise to see.

“Told you you should text him. I can’t believe you’re gonna do it with Prince Daniel. You’re so lucky.” Louise began reapplying her lipstick in a tiny compact mirror.

“Louise!”

“What? Aren’t you?” Louise said.

Phil felt flushed. “Louise, stop. I don’t know. I mean, maybe eventually. It’s only our second date.”

“You’re a stronger man than I, friend. I don’t like to wait too long. What if you really get to like him and the sex is rubbish. Anyway, He. Is. Fit. I’d get on that if I were you.” Louise snapped her compact closed.

Phil fanned himself with a menu. “Is it hot in here?”

Louise grinned, “So what are you guys doing on your date?”

“He wants pizza.” Phil slurped the last of his margarita.

“Cheap date!” Louise said impishly, “Where are you gonna go?”

Phil popped a chip into his mouth, trying to muffle his words. “My place.”

“Wait. What was that? Your place?”

Phil just kept shoveling guacamole into his face, trying to eat his embarrassment.  

“Your place?! Oh yeah, you're gonna do it. You are gonna do the deed with the prince!” She put her hand up for a high five but Phil just glared at her.

 Wednesday finally came and Phil stayed in bed as long as he could muster. At 2 pm, he was truly starving and very much awake so he dragged himself up and into the kitchen for coffee and cereal. By 4, he was showered and texting photos of potential outfits to Louise. He spent way too much time straightening his hair and perfecting his fringe so he looked edgy but not too edgy, cool but adult, like he used to be emo but has definitely grown out of that phase. By 5:30, he was ready and just sitting on the sofa, tapping his foot, alight with nervous energy and anticipation. He stared down at his phone, debating whether to text Dan. Maybe he should confirm? Just in case Dan got called away on important royal business. Was that a thing? He needed a bridge, he was never gonna make it to 7. They’d been way too casual the last three days. Phil just wanted Dan here in his apartment. He wanted to hear every detail of Dan’s week. What projects did he work on? Were those tiny sandwiches any good? Had he been thinking of Phil? Then it struck him, pizza! He couldn’t order pizza without asking Dan how he liked it. Just then he felt the phone vibrate in his hand and he jumped a little. Dan had beaten him to it.

Dan: Hey we still on for 7? Or did you come to your senses?

The butterflies in Phil’s stomach began to flutter about.

Phil: Looking for an out? Not a chance. My apartment has never been this clean and there is no way I did all that for nothing. I’m glad you texted though, what do you like on your pizza?

...

Phil: Don’t say pineapple

Dan: Pineapple

Phil: Oh dear, something has just come up.

Dan: Ok, Ok, I take it back. I like veggies, maybe pepperoni. Whatever you like is cool as long as it’s greasy and bad for me. You didn’t have to clean for me.

Phil: Um I actually did. You live in a castle.

Dan: It’s a very old castle.

Phil: Well my little apartment is noisy and dusty and small so lower your expectations, K?

Dan: Will do. I just wanna be where you are, Phil.

Phil laid his head back on the sofa and sighed.      

Dan: See you soon

Phil: Can’t wait

  I just wanna be where you are. That might have been the most romantic thing anyone had ever said to Phil. I just wanna be where you are. Phil got the sudden urge to change his clothes or redo his hair or clean something else. Problem was, he’d already tried every shirt he owned and his apartment didn’t get any cleaner than this. He checked the time, 5:45. He abruptly jumped up, grabbed his jacket, and raced out the door and down the stairs. The bakery was just a few doors down but they’d be closed at 6. In minutes, he was standing in front of Leo, who was carefully pulling cakes from the case. “Hey Phil, just closing up, what can I get you?”

Phil had to catch his breath from the hurry. “Hey.” He eyed what was left. No pigs, no pandas, just a sad, crooked faced bear. “Uh, I need dessert for me and a friend. Something special but also like, ready right now.”

 “You have a date?” Phil shifted and chewed his lip, cheeks pinking up, eyes smiling against his will. Leo raised an eyebrow and smiled widely. “Aw, she’s special isn’t she? I’ve got you, Phil. Let’s see. What’s her favorite color?”  

“I don’t know actually, it’s only our second date. He wears a lot of black.” Phil’s eyes darted around the case.

Leo turned and took two small cakes from the back counter. They were purple and black and blue, covered in flecks of silvery white and they shined like glass.

“Oh my god space cakes! These are amazing, I’ve never seen these before!”

“Just learned how. These were going to go out in the morning but they’re all yours. I’ll box them up.”

“Leo this is so perfect, you have no idea.” Phil pulled out his wallet but Leo held up his hand.

“These are on me Phil. Just invite me to the wedding.” Leo winked. “I hope he likes them.”

Phil’s pink cheeks went red and he took the small white boxes from Leo, rambling thank yous as he he backed out of the bakery. He walked home carefully and set the cakes on the kitchen  counter. At 6:45, there was a knock at the door. He’s early, thank god.

[auroraphilealis]

I’ll Be Your Safety

I’ll Be Your Safety | Prince Daniel had long since given up on the idea of ever finding someone he could love. Being a prince came with consequences after all, and there was no one Dan could trust - except for his best friend Prince Phillip from their neighboring kingdom who Dan may or may not have been incredibly in love with. Phil doesn’t want him back though, surely, right? So when Dan is sent to find a proper partner to marry, he doesn’t immediately think of Phil - until he does. | Phan | Teen and Up | Prince AU, fake relationship, getting together, marriage | 8,077 Disclaimer: In no way do I pretend that this is real or cast aspersions on Dan or Phil.

Originally this idea was claimed by @philscurls for the phandom reverse bang. However, I absolutely fell in love with the prompt while Ellen struggled with it, so I asked her if I could take it over, and low and behold… she let me! Last night I went on a writing spree and pulled this together just after the posting date was meant to go up, but I’m super happy with how this turned out, and I can’t wait to share it with you guys! It was so much fun to write, and I hope that the original artist, @laura-sketches will enjoy it as well!

You can find the art (Here) and I hope that the artist will be posting soon as well so I can link to her actual post that you guys can reblog!

Special thanks to my wonderful beta @phillybops for taking a look over it and catching my silly mistakes! Enjoy guys <3

(Ao3)

--

It was the abrupt sound of pulled curtains and the sudden appearance of bright light behind Dan’s eyes that woke him, jarring him from a nasty sleep full of dark dreams that made little to no sense in the morning, but left Dan feeling a sort of dread in the pit of his stomach. He moaned as he rolled over in the satin sheets of his bed, and tried to pull the covers over his head to block out the light that surrounded him now, so very different from the darkness of his dreams and the pulsating music from last night.

“Get up, Prince Daniel,” an acerbic voice Dan recognized all too well called to him, voice loud in the silence of the early morning.

“Don’ ‘anna,” Dan moaned in response, rolling over once more in an attempt to bury himself in a burrito of his sheets. There was a knowing sigh in response- the only sound other than breathing in the Prince’s room and then a light touch against Dan’s back. Dan knew what was coming before it happened.

In one swift movement, Dan’s personal butler grabbed hold of the end of Dan’s duvet, and yanked it from Dan’s naked body, exposing him rather suddenly to the sheer chill of the early morning air.

With a loud yelp, Dan jerked upwards in bed, and shouted, “‘K, ‘M up!” like the hungover young adult that he was. His eyes popped wide open, taking in his surroundings, and he drew his body in itself in an attempt to keep warm, uncaring for his nude state in front of the man who had seen far worse things from Dan.

Frederick, Dan’s butler from birth, stood at the foot of Dan’s bed holding his duvet in his hands with a look of shuttered amusement on his face, something Dan had gotten quite used to. He always did his best to appear stern with Dan, but Dan had long since learned of the man’s affection for him, and he’d never let it go.

Reaching up with a wide yawn, Dan carded his fingers through his curly hair, pushing back his fringe so it sat more as a quiff against his forehead, and scratched aimlessly at his other arm as he worked to wake himself up. He couldn’t quite remember what day it was as he blinked blearily around his room, unsurprised to find his late night conquest from the day before gone. Dan was certain Frederick had escorted them out early that morning to keep the prince safe from strange attempts on his life or his heart, and for that, Dan was thankful.

Still he wasn’t entirely sure why he had been awoken so early as well. Normally, Frederick let Dan sleep in on the weekends; the time when Dan was free from royal duties and unneeded in the throne room for people’s requests. Dan had long since finished his schooling, and his swords master was on a long trip to visit his family this month, so Dan wasn’t expected to meet with him either. The sight of the rising sun so clear at his window showed that it was certainly early morning and not afternoon, though, so there was no doubt in Dan’s mind that something was going on.

Frederick stepped forward then, handing Dan a cracker, a tablet, and a glass of water, of which Dan knew was for his hangover. Smiling goofily up at his butler, Dan took the items agreeably enough, and choked down the medication with a look of utter disgust on his face he could never hide no matter how hard he tried. Frederick laughed at him in turn.

“Perhaps the young master should refrain from getting drunk every night, and he wouldn’t have to take such medicine anymore,” Frederick stated pleasantly enough. If Dan hadn’t liked him as much as he did, he might have thrown the glass at him in turn, but he refrained and merely rolled his eyes instead.

“You’ve said before, Frederick,” Dan replied plainly. Then, realizing that he was unlikely to be allowed back to sleep now that he was up, and feeling really rather chilly without any clothing on or his duvet to curl up under, Dan stood with another yawn and stretched his limbs until his joints popped pleasantly. Frederick averted his gaze politely, but did not move from his place at the end of Dan’s bed. “Now what is that you’ve awoken me so early for?” Dan asked, taking a step toward his wardrobe, only to wobble dangerously as a sharp pain shifted through his backside that reminded him of just what he’d been up to last night.

Dan winced, caught himself, and sighed. That was a pain he was rather used to, but it was always difficult for the first few hours afterwards. He’d just have to endure.

As Dan moved to his wardrobe to dress, Frederick cleared his throat to explain his presence there.

“As you might remember, Prince Daniel,” he began, a sentence that made Dan snort as they both knew he did not remember what was going on, “Your parents are expecting your trip to begin to today. You did promise to be on your way by the end of the month, after all.”

That’s when the words hit Dan, and a watery memory he’d been seeking to bury under uninhibited quantities of alcohol for the last three weeks came rushing back at him, nearly burying him in the same, unidentifiable shame he’d felt when his parents had first instructed him on what he was to do.

Dan was being sent off to find a suitable partner from their neighboring kingdom where King Lester resided, in an attempt to not only stop Dan from sleeping around with their own subjects, but to finally unite their kingdoms in a very finite way. Dan groaned, and dropped his hand from where he’d been reaching for his court clothes, realizing that the day had finally come where Dan would have to leave.

Riding leathers it would have to be, then.

“Tell me again, Frederick,” Dan started sadly, shifting to the back of his wardrobe to find the right kind of long underwear to cover his privates and prevent his legs from chafing too much, “Why my parents are making me do this?”

Dan already knew the answer, and Frederick did too, but it didn’t matter. They both knew Dan wasn’t looking for any real answers. He was merely groaning the way he always did when his parents forced him to do things that he didn’t want to.

Frederick answered Dan anyway.

“As the eldest Prince, you are required to find a suitable partner to rule at your side until your death.”

Dan rolled his eyes.

“And if it isn’t a woman,” Dan mocked back, quoting his father’s terribly annoying words, “Then it will be your younger brother’s duty to continue the family line.”

Dan had never once been ashamed of his pre-declination towards men before, and though his parents had never strictly forbidden it, they had made it clear that it would merely shame him if after his death it wasn’t his own child that inherited the throne, but his brother’s. Too bad for the King that Dan literally didn’t care, and good for him that his brother was far more interested in women than Dan was.

That was the only positive coming out of this whole finding a partner in the neighboring kingdom thing. At least Dan wasn’t being forced into wedlock with a woman of all things. Still, he didn’t have to be happy about any of it. If Dan were to have his way, he’d not only never marry, but he’d cede the kingdom to his brother as well.

King Howell was never going to allow that though, so Dan had no choice but to go along with his wishes.

“If I may, Prince Daniel,” Frederick suddenly asked, coming up behind Dan to help him shrug on his leather tunic, the one to protect him from the winds as he rode. Dan allowed it, and inclined his head for his butler to continue. “Why are you so against marriage?”

Dan hesitated. No one had ever asked him that question before, and it came as a surprise to hear the question now. It wasn’t that Dan was against marriage, per se, it was more that… well. Call him old fashioned, but Dan wasn’t into the whole forced marriage thing

“Prince’s don’t get to marry for love, Frederick. They marry for duty,” he finally said. “And while I’d love to marry for love, the chances of my marrying anyone who didn’t just want me for my status, is next to nil.”

Frederick didn’t reply, and Dan didn’t continue. His thoughts turned inward, his heart aching at the realization that even now, leaving his own kingdom for another, he would still be in danger of finding no one better suited to him than those he slept with night after night in his own kingdom. At least they knew better than to expect an offer to stay, and merely took the money Dan handed to them quietly without asking for anything more. The people in the Lester’s Kingdom, Dan could not say the same for, and he could not deny that he feared the predators who he might end up bringing home.

It didn’t help that Dan was quite close with the Lesters. Their two kingdoms had been in peace negotiations for years, and Dan had grown up with the Lester children at his side since he was a boy. That would all be well and good if Dan hadn’t gone and fallen in love with the youngest, Prince Philip, the most beautiful man Dan had ever known, inside and out. He’d long since come to terms with the fact that he could never have the other prince, and had taken out his frustrations on men of his own kingdom who looked like Phil by courting them and taking him to his bed over and over again.

No one could ever truly replace Phil, though, and it had been a hard pill to swallow when Dan had realized he would not only never get to marry Phil, but he’d be forced to unite their kingdoms by marrying a man of Phil’s home. How much crueler could his family get? They were unintentionally allowing him so close to the object of his affections, only to prevent him from grasping hold - not that it was their fault Dan would never have the prince, at least not technically.

Dan thought his parents might not completely flip if Dan chose to marry a prince, rather than just some dignitary’s son, but Dan would never get the chance. Prince Philip had always been so far from Dan, despite being right there his entire life. Phil could never love Dan, not like Dan loved Phil, and it had long since been a lost cause.

Dan sighed as Frederick continued to help him prepare for his long journey that morning, and tried to pretend that his life was not about to come to an end.

**

The journey to the Lester’s Kingdom was a familiar one to Dan. He’d gone many times before, though usually not alone, and was familiar with the dark trails through forests and roads that would take him to his best friend’s doorstep. He’d driven in carriages before, and rode his own horse many times, but never for the purpose he was taking the trail now.

Normally, Dan went for a visit with Phil, to spend a month or two with the man his parents knew Dan had always been close to, but never before had he gone without Phil knowing of his coming, or without the express purpose in mind to visit with his Prince. The idea of doing so now put a damper on the journey that had used to excite Dan so, and he sighed as he rode atop his horse with a bag of supplies against his back.

The journey was a relatively short one, a good week from one capital to the next, but without the pleasure of making up plans of ways to steal away the Prince’s attention once he arrived, it felt longer this time. Dan was bored out of his mind, having refused a detail of guards to accompany him when he’d left early Sunday morning, and suddenly regretted the lack of company. At least the guards would have been good for small talk, maybe a good romp in the hay, but instead Dan had chosen to take this journey alone.

Maybe Dan had just been hoping he’d find a good few farm men to sleep with once he’d crossed the border, maybe even considered for a moment to take them home, but it didn’t matter now. Dan had crossed the border yesterday afternoon, but he’d stuck to the shadows of the trails he knew like the back of his hand, and avoided civilians like the plague. It was completely contrary to his original plans, self sabotage, and yet Dan, couldn’t bring himself to care.

In fact, Dan couldn’t bring himself to care about much of anything these days. For the past month, he’d been dreading the moment he’d actually have to leave on this journey, and it had left his life feeling incredibly pointless. Maybe that was why his exploits with the men of the kingdom had gotten so much more… frequent, recently.

Not to mention messy. Dan hadn’t thought he’d ever have a threesome, but, well…

If the second man hadn’t looked like a carbon copy of Dan himself, he probably would have been too jealous to let anyone be involved in his fun with the Phil lookalike, but no one needed to know about that. It was fine now anyway. Dan just needed to get to the capital, and start spending time with known Duke’s and higher up’s. Perhaps he could even settle for a merchant. Dan didn’t know who would be the best to take home, unsure if he’d even be able to find someone who he’d ever be able to love, or who wouldn’t attempt to take full advantage of him.

Why had his parents thought this was a good idea again?

Suddenly, Dan was ripped from his thoughts at the loud sound of his own horse whinnying, and the jostling movement of the horse jerking back, front hooves kicking at the air for a brief moment. Dan yelled out in surprise, and took hold tightly of his reins, pulling back on them to try and control his horse, all while he searched wildly for the source of his horse’s terror.

His own eyes were wide, fingers itching to brace around the hilt of his sword at his waist, but he didn’t even know where, or what, his enemy even was.

“Calm, Moody!” Dan shouted as he pulled harder on the reigns, head whipping around desperately to find the issue as Moody continued to thrash about, kicking behind herself, and then huffing loudly.

It took another moment, but Moody finally settled down, her body tense and unhappy under Dan. Still, her relaxation relieved Dan, who was finally able to see straight enough to find what had caused all the commotion in the first place.

The first thing he saw as he stared straight in front of himself and Moody was a large, brown gelding. He was stood stock still in the middle of the trail, going lengthwise across the path and preventing anyone from moving past him. The second thing Dan saw was an unsettled tree, disrupted bushes, and a trail of heavy and unhidden footsteps trailing away from said horse and into the forest around them, just off the beaten path Dan was taking now.

Instantly, Dan tensed.

Someone was here.

“Who's out there?” he yelled, unafraid, as he let go of his horse's reins and jumped off of her, his hand going straight to the hilt of his sword. “Show yourself!” he continued when he got no response, turning slowly but surely on nimble feet, ready to fight for his life if it came down to it.

Whoever had hidden in the woods either hadn’t wanted to be seen by Dan, or was planning an ambush. Regardless of the reason, Dan was not going to ignore the signs and continue on his way dangerously. Not to mention, a large horse was stood in his way, and there was no chance in hell Dan was getting off the well known beaten path and walking into some kind of trap.

“Come out, come out, wherever you are!” Dan hollered, voice menacing, when the person did not appear after Dan’s first call towards them. “You’ve been caught, sir! I know you’re there! Reveal yourself!”

There was a crunching sound from Dan’s left, and he whirled with his sword thrust out just in time to press the tip of the metal to the throat of someone who appeared all too familiar, and who was looking at Dan with a grin on his face that seemed to stretch for miles.

Staring at this man was like staring into the sun, and Dan’s jaw nearly dropped as he realized who this was.

“Phil!” he shouted, a grin of his own taking over his face. His sword arm fell as he dropped the weapon to the forest floor, and without another thought in his mind, Dan threw himself into the arms of the other prince, warmth immediately seeping into his skin. He buried his face into Phil’s neck the best he could considering he’d grown taller than him over the last year, and inhaled his scent sharply as Phil chuckled against his ear.

“Dan,” Phil replied softly, and merely held Dan tighter in turn. “It’s good to see you,” he explained, and placed his own chin on top of Dan’s curly mop of hair. His embrace was heaven to Dan, and he never wanted to let go.

**

They ended up settling down at camp a few miles into the forest haven they’d been walking through. Phil had had the foresight to carry his own sleeping bag, while Dan had been sleeping on the floor the past few days, but it was unmistakable that they had both been traveling. Dan was more relieved than he could say that he’d run into Phil, but the fact that Phil had been traveling at all was starting to niggle at the back of Dan’s mind.

What was Phil doing out here?

He hadn’t asked yet, though. Instead, the two had walked their horses to a somewhat hidden clearing in the forest, tied them up, gotten them water, and then begun to build a fire for themselves. Night was coming quick, and while the sun was still setting, neither wanted to be caught out in the cold.

As Phil spread out his sleeping bag near the fire, and Dan propped up a bundle of clothes as a makeshift pillow they way he’d done the past few days, the two settled in with a kettle over the fire, and a simple broth brewing. Phil had offered his small cache of supplies for dinner without Dan even getting a chance to say no, but Dan wasn’t going to complain; the cook at Phil’s palace made the best vegetable broth Dan had ever tasted, and he was glad to have a chance at some now.

“So,” Phil finally said, breaking the easy banter they’d fallen into earlier, teasing each other the way they’d always done when they were together. “What are you doing all the way out here? I wasn’t expecting to run into you on the road.”

Dan let out a heavy, dramatic sigh, and flopped backwards against the makeshift pillow he’d created of his clothes, an action that both men were rather familiar with - Dan always had been the drama king. Phil laughed at the action, and Dan turned his head to grin at his best friend, feeling his heart race excitedly in his chest at the sight of him. He still couldn’t quite believe he’d somehow managed to run into Phil out here, especially when he was meant to be on a trip to find a partner to drag home.

In a way, Dan wasn’t sure if he was more happy to have Phil with him now, or upset, because now he had to admit to Phil why he was here.

“Well,” Dan replied, drawing out the “e” for extra dramatic effect. Dan liked the way it made Phil grin at him, his tongue sticking out through his teeth, smile gummy in the cutest of ways. Dan’s heart fluttered in his chest. “To tell you the truth,” Dan continued, and sighed as he remembered why exactly he was out here. The humor from a moment earlier seemed to suddenly be gone. “My parents sent me off to find a partner. They were getting sick of me sleeping around every weekend, and they gave me one last month before I was required to pick someone from your kingdom to finally tie our kingdoms together.”

The words kind of rushed out of Dan in one long breath. Suddenly, Dan realized just how desperate he’d been feeling lately to just talk about all of this; his fears and the terror of having to marry an actual stranger, of potentially being stuck in a loveless marriage…

Dan rolled onto his side and stared at the dirt underneath him, picking at it with his nails and refusing to look at Phil, who’d yet to reply to what he’d said.

“I guess I’d just really hoped I’d find someone I could actually love before I was forced to get married,” Dan admitted on an exhale. “I thought maybe my parents would… understand.” He closed his eyes and let his hands go limp against the floor, suddenly feeling entirely drained of all energy.

Phil still hadn’t said a word, but Dan knew it wasn’t because Phil didn’t know what to say. He just wanted to give Dan his space to finish. Phil had always been good like that. While Dan couldn’t seem to help himself when it came to interrupting other people and interjecting with his own thoughts before they’d even finished speaking, Phil had always been so incredibly patient. It was no wonder Dan was so in love with him.

“I just don’t want to end up with someone who’s just using me to be a prince or princess,” Dan finally admitted at last, and fell silent.

As always, Phil seemed to know when Dan was done, as not a second too early or too late, Phil was letting out a soft sigh and reaching over with gentle fingers to ruffle up Dan’s curly hair. The touch instantly made Dan smile, and he basked in the warmth of Phil’s affection.

“Yeah. I get that,” Phil agreed, and the thing was, Dan knew he really did. It wasn’t like when his butler or his classmates would agree back when he was doing schooling with some of the other duchess and dukes kids, or even the other servants in the palace. No one had ever really understood the way only Phil could, because he was a prince too.

Dan was only jealous of the fact that Phil was the second son, and therefore might have more of a chance than Dan of finding someone to love. If only that person could have been Dan.

“But if it makes you feel any better,” Phil continued, “My parents sent me to visit your kingdom for the exact same reason as you're visiting mine.”

It took a while for the words to proper register in Dan’s mind, unhelped by the way Phil’s fingers continued to card through his hair in an affectionate manner Dan so rarely got these days. At first, he merely hummed in reaction to Phil, eyes still closed as he rested with his head half off of his makeshift pillow, and then what Phil had said finally seemed to hit him.

Dan sat bolt upright in seconds, eyes popping wide and mouth dropping open as he moved to look at Phil. His best friend was biting his lip on what seemed to be an embarrassed smile, and his bluey-green eyes reflected a sadness Dan was certain was in his own. The sight made his heart ache, and he craved the chance to reach out and reassure Phil the way Phil had done so many times before for Dan.

But he couldn’t, because Dan was unable to get past the gnawing, horrified feeling in the pit of his stomach that Dan’s fantasy’s were truly about to crash down all around him.

Phil was looking for a partner. Phil was going to get married.

And it wasn’t going to be to him.

Dan’s heart was suddenly racing in his chest. He felt kind of dizzy, but he was doing his best not to give in to the sudden desperate desire to heave in needy breaths of air. Clenching his fingers into fists at his sides, Dan merely stared at Phil, completely aghast, and tried to take the situation in.

“What?” he finally managed to gasp out. Phil, much to Dan’s distress, ducked his head at the word, as if he didn’t want to have to face Dan about this anymore than Dan had wanted to face Phil. “You mean…?”

Phil nodded his head.

Dan was absolutely stunned, but that didn’t prevent a stone from dropping in his stomach and nearly killing him.

“Yeah, I uh. Well, Martyn’s just gotten engaged. His wedding will be in the next month, and I’m expected to introduce my own betrothed at the reception, so ah. Here I am,” Phil introduced, laughing at himself. His voice sounded frail and awkward, and Dan didn’t know what to do.

He’d never been any good at comforting others. That had always been Phil’s specialty, not Dan’s. Suddenly every last thought Dan had had about enjoying Phil’s company for the rest of his journey, maybe even borrowing him as a wingman, begging for one last glimpse of hope that Phil might be jealous, might be interested, evaporated into thin air.

Every last thought that Phil was lucky, that he might find love even if Dan didn’t, disappeared.

They were both trapped in the same horrifying circumstances, and somehow, for Dan, knowing that Phil would soon be off the market was too much for him to bear.

So he hatched a plan. As he stared at Phil, who was back to stirring the slowly warming broth over their fire, refusing to look back at Dan, he thought. Dan thought about the way Phil made him feel, and the hope he’d had that he might still have some time left alone with Phil come the future, after he’d married and left his husband back at home. Dan thought about the empty place in his heart where Phil had lived since they were kids, and the desire he’d stirred in Dan when he’d first turned fourteen and showed up all grown and adorable with dyed black hair grown into a stylish fringe.

Dan thought of all the times they’d spent back at the palace, playing and fighting and bickering late into the night, telling each other their secrets and whispering promises of love that had always meant more on Dan’s end than Phil. Dan thought of Phil’s lips, and how badly he’d wanted to kiss them for years now, and his hands and the warmth of them against Dan.

Dan tried to imagine either of them being married to someone else, and his heart wrenched.

Maybe… maybe Dan still had a chance. Maybe Phil didn’t love him, didn’t view him like that at all, but maybe Phil would be willing to pretend, just for a little while, to save them both from their plight.

“What if you marry me, instead,” Dan blurted out, ears flushing red as he realized he’d said that out loud. His heart was thundering away in his chest, and he could feel terror trying to envelope him all over again, but he refrained. Phil was looking at him now, his head having whipped up the second the words had passed Dan’s lips, but his gaze was closed off - stunned.

Dan had to push on.

“Think about it. We both want nothing more than to find someone we can actually love, and there’s no way either of us is going to find someone we can so much as trust in the next month. The task our parents have set us is impossible,” Dan explained, talking fast, afraid he wouldn’t get through his whole speech before Phil interrupted him with a crazed laugh. Why would Phil ever want to marry Dan anyway? This was insane, and Dan had no idea what he was saying, but he couldn’t stop now.

He had to try. This was his last chance.

“If we were to get married, it would unite our kingdoms, and you would be a king one day. You would rule at my side, and you’d have all the time in the world to find someone you could actually love. It’s perfect Phil, don’t you see?” Dan continued, pushing forward until he was almost pleading. He could hear the distress in his own voice, the terror, the pain, and he couldn’t help wondering if Phil could see right through him.

Dan wasn’t offering to save them both the pain of finding a proper partner to marry. Dan was offering because he wanted to savor every last moment he ever got with Phil before someone else came along and stole him away. Dan would take anything if it meant holding Phil by his side, even a fake marriage that was nothing more than a piece of paper and public display.

“Think about it,” Dan continued, still talking fast, eyes wide and pleading. “It could be perfect. We’re best friends, what could be worse than marrying your best friend? And it’s not like we have to have sex. The law about consummating marriage beds and blood on the sheets was banished ages ago. It could totally work, and I -”

“Dan,” Phil murmured, cutting Dan off mid word. The action was half expected, and yet so rare, that Dan cut his ramble off immediately and looked up at Phil. He was surprised to find his friend staring back at him with something tender and warm in his eyes, and felt that something that had been tightening around his throat suddenly loosen until he could breathe again.

“Dan, shh. Stop. You don’t have to convince me. I think that would be a wonderful idea. I’d love to be your husband.”

Phil’s eyes were glittering, and he was smiling, a not so secret laugh on his lips, but Dan didn’t care. All he could do was stare at Phil in absolute wonder and awe, amazed that his spontaneous plan had actually worked.

Phil had agreed to marry him, and it had hardly even taken any convincing. Phil was looking at Dan like he loved him for this, and even if that love didn’t expand beyond platonic, Dan didn’t mind.

“I just can’t believe we never thought of this before,” Phil continued, chuckling lightly. His cheeks were flushed and red, but Dan was unsure why, nor did he quite understand the seeming hysteria in Phil’s eyes. “It’s perfect, and it probably would have gotten our parents off our backs ages ago! Besides,” Phil continued, smirking, “I guess that means you really aren’t ever getting rid of me now!”

“Phil!” Dan whined, “Shut up!” he complained, but his heart wasn’t in it, even as he reached over to shove Phil onto the floor, laughing as the action devolved into an impromptu wrestling match that made Dan feel warm and breathless all over.

Dan was too busy floating on cloud nine, because Phil Lester had said yes to his proposal, and they were getting married.

**

While the trip towards Phil’s kingdom and over the border had been boring bordering on terrible, the trip back was anything but. It was full of raucous laughter and a level of fun that Dan had never experienced with anyone but Phil. There was teasing aplenty, and even a few good natured shoves, but Dan had never gotten along so well with anyone as he did with Phil.

Every time they walked back into each other's lives after a long absence, they found that they fit together like puzzle pieces. It was as if they’d never been apart, and while they filled each other in on the antics of their home lives, it never felt forced or hard. There were no awkward silences to fill because the two never seemed to run out of stories to tell each other, and when they did, it didn’t feel awkward to just bask in each other’s presence.

It was actually the opposite. Dan had never felt so safe as he did in Phil’s presence, and just having Phil there beside him riding his horse left Dan feeling warm to his core. He didn’t need words or even contact to make him feel whole, the way he did when Phil wasn’t around, and Dan that for as long as he had Phil at his side, he’d never draw another man into his bed.

Well, actually, Dan couldn’t make that promise, but he knew that he would never need it the same way he did now. No one could truly replace Phil, and Phil made Dan feel like he was on top of the world. No one could top that. If Dan could never have Phil the way he wanted him, he would take his friendship with the ease and grace of a gelding, and appreciate every second of his company.

While the trip to Phil’s kingdom had taken a few days at most, the trip back took closer to the week Dan had planned to get to the capital of Phil’s kingdom. Dan didn’t mind though. Unlike the boring trip there, the trip back was the most fun Dan had had in ages.

Half the time, he and Phil were messing around. They spent just as much time racing their horses to see who could take turns and reach certain areas faster than the other just for the hell of it, bickering and joking over the results every time they tied until night had fallen and they’d failed to get much further than a few yards from their destination of last night.

Neither male truly minded though. They hadn’t seen each other in just about a year now, both busy with their own business in presiding kingdoms, and they were making up for lost time now.

They never spoke of their soon to be marriage, though, and Dan tried to pretend that that didn’t hurt. Sometimes he’d see Phil turn and look at him with an expression full of both longing and fear in his eyes that made Dan fear they were doing the wrong thing, but as quick as the expression was there, it was gone, and Dan was left to wonder if he’d ever really seen it at all.

They swam in the lake just off the border between their kingdoms on the third day of their trip, and dunked each other under the water so many times Dan could practically taste algae in the back of his throat. Dan spent more time than he’d care to admit staring at Phil’s toned chest, and how he’d grown since Dan had last seen him, and tried not to reach out and touch more than was actually necessary. Being two young adult men, however, rough housing was how they got on, and it was inevitable that Dan would touch. He tried not to feel guilty with the zing it sent through him, and merely pressed on and tried to pretend that he just saw Phil as a friend.

On the fourth day they went hunting, something they were both exceptionally poor at, and merely managed to catch a rabbit which Phil then refused to slay. They set the unharmed animal free back in the woods, and sat down with their quickling dwindling rations for dinner that night with good natured smiles and reassurances that they’d done the right thing. Dan held Phil’s hand and squeezed at his fingers every time he wondered if he’d ever be any good at ruling if he couldn’t even kill a rabbit for his dinner that night, and Dan reassured him that Phil would do what was right in the end.

Besides, they hadn’t needed that rabbit that night, and had mostly trapped it for the fun of it.

That seemed to be enough to reassure Phil, and they continued on.

On the fifth day, the two stumbled upon a wounded wolf that Phil merely couldn’t ignore, and after gaining the animals trust, the two nursed it back to health over the following two days, ignoring their own needs to get home and merely enjoying each other’s company and the mutual caring for a wounded animal. Dan watched Phil the whole time he stroked the wolf’s head and mended the two hurt back paw’s that had prevented the poor animal from running away when they’d first approached it, and felt his heart ache with the desire to have this man in every way.

Phil was so gentle and kind, his eyes soft and his touch warm. Dan would never find someone as good as Phil, not even if he could search the whole wide world.

Soon enough, though, the wolf healed enough to stand and fend for itself, and while Dan and Phil both were sad to see the animal go, they waved it off as it loped away after one last affectionate nuzzle that told them both they would never be forgotten.

Then, finally, on the eighth day, the two finally crossed city lines into the capital just past sun down, and turned to grin at each other. Their faces were grimy and covered in sweat, and their horses stood under them unamused at their antics over the last few days, particularly the event with the wolf that had detained them so close to home.

Still, Dan didn’t regret a second of it, and as he stared out at the capital of his kingdom, taking in the sights he’d haunted so many years now finding men to take to his bed to replace Phil, Dan felt something right finally settle in his chest. He had Phil at his side now, regardless of what that might really mean, and Dan was going to soak up every last day he got with Phil before Phil moved on to someone else.

The thought of that day coming sooner rather than later dampened Dan spirits, and he shoved the thought away as soon as it came. He could deal with that later. For now, he had a betrothed to take home.

“Ready?” Dan asked Phil, turning back to look at him once more.

Phil turned his head as well, eyes shining bright, and mouth open in a toothy grin. Dan could see his tongue sticking out, just the tip. It was everything and more.

“Ready,” Phil agreed, and took the lead.

**

Dan shouldn’t have been surprised at how well his parents had taken the news when he’d arrived in court that day with Phil at his side, arm’s laced together, and a plan on the tip of their tongues. There had been something knowing about the look Dan’s mother had given him, but his father, as expected, had merely grunted his agreement and reminded Dan’s brother Adrien of the renewed need for the youngest son to produce an heir that Dan was clearly never going to be able to bear.

Dan would have felt bad, or even guilty, if it hadn’t been for the fact that his brother didn’t care in the least. No choices had been taken from him when it had been clear from the start that he was pretty much only interested in women, and he didn’t so much as bat an eye at Dan when he was summoned and subsequently excused.

Phil, on the other hand, had looked suitably grave, as if he were blaming himself for taking away Dan’s one chance at an heir by marrying him. Dan wasn’t sure if the expression was real, or a mere farce put on for his father, but he never got a chance to ask. He was too busy being dragged into wedding planning not twenty-four hours later, while Phil was sent off back home to inform his family of his decision.

Dan regretted not getting to go with Phil, but with the wedding scheduled to go along with Martyn and his betrothed Cornelia’s, the two did not have much time to plan. Besides, Dan was not long shipped off with carriage upon carriage of supplies to the Lester’s a week or so later, and left to plan there. By then, he’d mostly forgotten about Phil’s grave expression and its implications, and had merely soaked up every last moment he was given to spend at Phil’s side.

Not that there was much of that. The two weren’t even allowed their customary sleepovers anymore because of their betrothal and how it would be seen as unright, not to mention the fact that every minute that was not spent planning for the dual wedding was either spent sleeping or eating. That left very little time for Dan to even check in with Phil and see if this was still what he wanted, let alone mess around with his best friend, so Dan let the grave expression go. At least for a little while.

By the time the wedding day arrived, the memory of that expression had wore a hole through Dan’s heart, and he was seconds away from calling the whole damn thing off. His hands were sweating in his tailored tux, and he’d wiped them on his trouser legs multiple times now. Martyn, Cornelia, and Phil were all temporarily in separate rooms from Dan, leaving Dan nothing to do but dread what was to come.

What if he was doing the wrong thing? What if he was ruining everything with Phil? What if Phil knew of Dan’s feelings and was just doing this to make him feel less alone? What if Phil had someone else out there that he thought he could never have, and he was only settling for Dan? What if Phil regretted this, in the end?

A sudden knock at the door drew Dan out of his thoughts, and he turned with a loud screech of his shoes against the floor. He cringed at the sound, but managed to shout out a hoarse sounding “come in!” regardless, hoping that whoever was at the door would excuse it all for nerves.

Of course, the person at the door turned out to be someone Dan had not quite been expecting. Despite tradition and superstition stating that the betrothed were not to see each other before the wedding, Phil Lester himself was sneaking into Dan’s room.

Dan’s jaw dropped open, and his palms began to sweat even more profusely.

“What are you doing here?” Dan stuttered out, his terror from before suddenly renewed tenfold. Was Phil here to call this whole affair off? Had Dan well and truly ruined their friendship? Dan didn't know.

“I had to see you,” Phil replied earnestly, staring at Dan with wide eyes full of emotion that Dan could not decipher for the life of him. Dan merely gawped at Phil like a fish out of water. His heart was beating erratically in his chest.

“What do you mean?” Dan finally managed to ask, terrified, but doing his best to prevent the emotion from showing on his face. “We’re not supposed to see each other before the wedding, Phil, I -”

“Dan,” Phil interrupted, once again interrupting Dan and shutting him up immediately. Phil didn’t interrupt people, not unless it was important. Dan could practically feel his blood pressure spiking.

“Phil?” Dan shot back, his voice coming out as a high pitched squeak. Phil was stepping closer now, something Dan didn’t completely understand, that same unreadable mass of emotions shining in his eyes, and his lips quirked in a hesitant, uncertain smile. Phil was nervous, that much was true, but why.

Dan didn’t understand why. He just wanted to know what was going on, why Phil was here, and if he were about to dissolve everything before Dan could get what he wanted. How could Dan have been so stupid as to use Phil like this? How could he have thought this was a good idea?

His thoughts were racing a mile a minute when Phil reached out and captured Dan’s cheeks in his hands, chuckling gently at him.

“You’re thinking really loud,” he teased.

His eyes had turned gentle, but his smile was none the less nervous than before.

Dan swallowed thickly and nodded his head. Phil’s hands were warm against his skin.

“Sorry,” he whispered.

Phil just shook his head.

“It’s okay. I don’t really mind. I just wish I knew what was going on inside of that head of yours,” he added with another gentle laugh. It was high, high like when Phil was feeling awkward, like when he said something strange that he regretted almost immediately. Dan knew that laugh, but he didn’t think it belonged here, in this situation.

He wished Phil would just get on with what he wanted.

“No you don’t,” Dan shot back, throat dry, because Phil didn’t. If he knew, he wouldn’t be about to marry Dan.

Phil frowned at Dan, a little crease forming between his brows that Dan ached to reach up and smooth out, and shook his head, but he didn’t argue against Dan. Instead, he stared into Dan’s eyes, leaving Dan to do nothing but stare back.

Phil’s hands were still cupping his cheeks. Dan didn’t understand.

“Listen, Dan,” Phil finally said, breaking the heavy silence that had fallen between them. His voice broke, and he hesitated, something that made the dread and worry forming in Dan’s stomach swirl in a mass of butterflies and hornets. He wanted to throw up. If only Phil would just get on with it.

Just break it off with me already, I deserve it, Dan thought, but that wasn’t what Phil said.

No. Instead, Phil once again took Dan by surprise, the way he’d been doing all their lives, and he sighed. His eyes were clouded over in an emotion that Dan could not name as he leaned in close, far closer than Dan thought was necessary, hands still pressed warm and tight on either side of Dan’s face, holding him close.

“Dan,” Phil said. “I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry. Please, forgive me for this, but I just - I just need you to know, before we get married...I love you.”

The words were nothing that Dan had been expecting. They burst forth against his ear drums like fireworks in the night sky. It almost felt like Dan’s entire world came to life in that moment, colors he hadn’t known could be so vivid exploding before his eyes. Phil’s face was apprehensive, scared and unsure, but Dan couldn’t bring himself to care.

He was floating in starlight, staring into the sun, and a smile unlike any he’d ever worn before was ripping itself across his face.

Phil Lester loved him. Phil Lester loved him, and they were about to get married.

Suddenly, the puzzle pieces fell together, and Dan finally realized that this… this was everything they’d been leading up to for years, now.

Without waiting another beat or another moment to pass, Dan leaned forward and he pressed his lips to Phil’s in a kiss that would rival that of the one they’d share at the altar hours later. Dan’s arms came up to wrap around Phil’s neck, and he laughed against Phil’s lips as he whispered back, “I love you, too,” suddenly feeling like the prince who’d gotten his fairy tale ending.

For the first time in his life, Dan felt like the world truly was his oyster, and he held onto Phil like he was never going to let him go, because he wasn’t.

Phil Lester was his, and soon, they’d have their happily ever after.

[boardpusherskateboards]

Featured Decks of the Day: Pizza Babes by Phil Guy

Phil Guy, perhaps better known as Burrito Breath, has a way of seamlessly blending the odd, grotesque, sexy, and funny and we’ve always enjoyed watching his graphics come through our presses. Always with the four eyes and black tooth grins, we don’t know what this series is called, but we refer to it as “Pizza Babes” and they’re today’s BoardPusher.com Featured Decks. Find more of Phil’s work at someguydesign.com, view his store here, or follow him on Instagram @burritobreath.

Show off what you got by creating your own skateboard graphics at BoardPusher.com.

[iamnotthedog]

ST. LOUIS: FALL 1999

Once I graduated from high school, I had been reading road books and travelogues pretty much exclusively for quite a while. After I read On the Road at Jim’s place, I caught the travel bug, and read Celine’s Journey to the End of the Night, Hunter S. Thompson’s Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas, Tom Wolfe’s The Electric Kool-Aid Acid Test, Bashō’s Narrow Road to the Deep North and Other Travel Sketches, and Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance, which came at the suggestion of Mrs. Frame, who really knew me better than just about anyone at the time. Those books all lit a fire under me, and I couldn’t wait to get out of Morrison and experience more of the world, as well as a whole new life out from under my parents’ roof.

I wanted to travel more than anything, but I was determined to go to college first, and I sort of ended up fucking that whole thing up, to be completely honest. I mean, it wasn’t bad or anything, it just isn’t what I should have been doing. I got accepted to a writing program at a private school called Webster University.1 Webster’s a nice school and all, I just say that I fucked up because of all the places in the world that I could have gone after finally getting out of Morrison, I ended up in a suburb of St. Louis, which isn’t exactly the most exciting place in the world. I mainly ended up there because I was lazy with the whole “preparing for college” thing, and I hadn’t even applied anywhere else.

All that aside, I was excited to meet some new people when I arrived at Webster for the first time—as most college freshmen are. But then my first roommate in the dorms at Webster was a total dick. His name was Brett or Brent, and he was one of the several people on my floor who had barely even put their suitcases down before they started complaining that Webster University was too small, and threatening to transfer to UMSL (“threatening,” as though any of us would actually care if they left), where they could live downtown and go to football games and frat parties and chug beer out of holes punched into the sides of cans and maybe even videotape themselves fucking somebody.

That wasn’t my scene. Sleepy Webster Groves with its narrow tree-lined streets and long-haired, grey-bearded writing professors was more up my alley. And after about a week in the dorms, I managed to find a few like-minded people to spend some time with. I met the friend I would eventually end up taking to California with me—John—and John’s roommate and lifelong companion (at least up to that point), Marc.

I was walking down the hall completely aimlessly one afternoon when I heard Bob Dylan crooning through a door that was open a crack, and I smelled incense, so I gave a little knock. John came to the door and peeped out at me with his red eyes, his long brown caveman hair and unshaven chin. He was wearing a tie-dyed t-shirt with a stretched out collar, and baggy sweatpants with a bunch of pockets on the legs. And he was barefoot. He looked at me skeptically, furrowing his brow. “Yes?” he said.

“Hey,” I said, awkwardly. “Uh...what’s going on?”

He opened the door a little wider. Marc was behind him, sitting on a futon with long red hair flowing down over his pale, shirtless torso and a fuckin’ three-foot tall glass bong in his lap. He lifted a lighter in a sort of wave.

“Nothing much,” John said. He kind of tilted his head to the side a little and looked into my eyes. He still looked skeptical.

I stuck a finger in the air in an attempt at pointing at the music playing, as people do. “Blonde on Blonde,” I said. I wasn’t exactly sure how to accomplish what I wanted to accomplish. Then I saw a couple guitars in the corner of the room, back behind Marc. “You guys play? I can play pretty much this whole album.”

That seemed to work, for whatever reason.

“C’mon in,” John said.

John and Marc lived in their own little hippie heaven there in the dorms. Their walls were plastered with tapestries and black light posters and pictures of Led Zeppelin and the Doors and Jimi Hendrix and the Grateful Dead. They always had incense burning and music on the stereo. They would sleep to some of the weirdest shit, too. If you walked by their room late any night—say you were stoned and wandering down the hallway to hit up the vending machines for a Snickers or whatever—you could often hear some Miles Davis piping out through their door. It was the weird Miles, too. Not Kind of Blue Miles, but Bitches Brew or sometimes even On the Corner Miles. Even being a huge Miles Davis fan, as I was at the time (and still am), I couldn’t understand how anyone could actually fall asleep to On the Corner.

After I started hanging out with John and Marc, I ended up spending a hell of a lot more time in their room then my own. The amount of drugs those two smoked was comical. They would literally wake up in the morning and smoke opium. Opium! At, like, nine o’clock in the goddamned morning. Then they would go back to sleep for a couple hours, wake up, and smoke some weed to start their day.

John and Marc were great for me, though—at least at the start—because they were from St. Louis. Born and raised. They were the first people to take me out on the town and show me around. They showed me where to buy my weed—which was actually pretty hilarious, because they got all their shit from a fat black dude named Q who worked in the drive-thru of a local Steak ‘n Shake—and they took me to see shows at the local venues, and they’d drive me out to Marc’s parents house in the outer ‘burbs, which was huge.2 We’d have parties out there whenever Marc’s parents were out of town, which was actually quite a bit because they were getting ready to move down south somewhere, and were always going down there to look at property.

The thing was, though, that after a while John and Marc’s circle of high school buddies that were always hanging around started to wear on me a little—I mentioned that earlier. They had all that history together—all those inside jokes and anecdotes and all that loyalty that seems really nice at first, but really ends up making people lazy and afraid of change after a while. I started to feel like I had actually never left high school myself. So I started seeking out other circles with which to insert myself. These guys who came around to Marc and John’s room every once in a while to score some weed were pretty laid back, and they lived on the floor above us. Their names were Phil and Isaac. Phil was a California boy who had grown up in Salinas, on the Pacific coast, which prompted all of us who had never travelled west and had our ultra-idealized fantasies of California in our heads to ask him why the hell he had come to the Midwest. (His mother worked for the university and got him a really good deal on tuition, or something like that). As for Isaac, he was a classic cinephile type, born and raised in St. Louis, and he resembled the Dude from The Big Lebowski—always stoned, always in sweatpants. He even drank White Russians almost exclusively.

Anyway, I started hanging out with Phil and Isaac more, and Phil and I totally hit it off. He needed a roommate, as his previous roommate was not unlike Brett or Brent—one of those jock types who decided that he needed to drop out of Webster and go to a school with a fraternity and more “loose chicks.” So I said sayonara to Brett or Brent, and I moved into Phil’s room.

Phil was a handsome kid with a neatly trimmed goatee, a friendly smile, and a southern California sense of style. He and I started cruising around together in his tricked out BMW with black lights under the dash, flashy rims, and a lowered suspension. I was at the height of my adolescent kleptomania at the time, and when I got off work at this little deli I had been rolling burritos for, Phil would pick me up and I’d go steal us a big bottle of good liquor from the local big-box grocery store down the street, Schnucks.3 We’d bring the bottle back to the dorms and have some drinks with a joint or two before hitting up some of the other kids on the floor, seeing if they wanted to go drive around and find some shit to get into.

It was around then that I met Leah.

Leah lived right down the hallway from Phil and I, along with her friend, Lilith. Lilith and Leah were both into a lot of the same music as I was, and they were down to party pretty much whenever Phil and I were. The first time Leah came around to my room alone, I was probably listening to some Bob Marley or something cliché like that and working on a paper for one of my classes, and she came in wearing this tight tube top without a bra. She totally took me off guard.

“Hey,” she said, leaning on the doorframe in the open door. I looked at her tube top, her pale, flat stomach, then quickly caught myself, shifting my gaze up to her eyes and smiling.

“What’s going on?” I stammered. “What...uh...what are you doing?”

I had already thought Leah was cool and everything—she was hyper smart, funny, and had great taste in music and books and all that—but after that entrance—after she stood right there next to me and leaned over me and asked about my paper, with her nipples in my face and her sweet breath surrounding me—well, after that she had my attention pretty much all the time. Then one night, we were alone in her room listening to records, and she asked me to give her a massage. She slipped my hand down between her legs and put her hand between mine, and then she got me up into her bed and unbuttoned my jeans and slipped off her shorts and took my virginity. Just like that. It took all of three minutes, tops. I made some excuse that she was way too good and that my last girl had been a dead fish, but in all honesty, I had never even come close to getting laid in high school. My high school experience, as I mentioned earlier, had been nothing but one long dry hump.

So after that night, Leah and I were pretty much attached at the hip for the next few weeks. She was all I needed, really. But we weren’t even one month into our relationship before the honeymoon ended—as they do—and things got real.

It turned out that Leah was clinically depressed. She managed to hide it from me for our first few weeks together, but then she just couldn’t do it any more. It started to show itself—mostly in her retreating to her room, turning the lights off, and refusing to come out for anything.

It always happened the same way. A couple weeks into the semester, Leah had moved out of the dorms to the university apartments where kids with rich parents could afford to live. I’d go over there and Leah would turn off the television. We’d sit on her couch and smoke a bowl. I’d put a record on. She’d walk to the kitchen, right there in the same room, and put on a pot of water for tea. Then she’d come back over to me, stripping some of her clothes off, and we’d mess around a little, go into her bedroom for a while, and then take a nap or shower. Then we’d be talking and thinking about going out and finding Phil or Lilith or something and she’d turn off. Like someone pulled a plug.

And those were the good nights. On the bad nights the plug would get pulled far earlier. Sometimes before I even got over to her apartment. Sometimes I’d be walking around the black asphalt parking lot on that white cement sidewalk around those neatly trimmed bushes by the hot tub that Phil and I used to break into after hours, and I’d be all excited to see my girl, and then I’d look up at her window and see that it was dark and the shades were drawn. After a while I learned to not even try knocking when that was the case. She’d be in her huge bed with her thick white down comforter up over her head, and she wouldn’t come to the door for anyone.

On those nights, I would get so down on everything that I would avoid everyone and leave campus altogether. I’d walk for hours down Big Bend Boulevard, through Richmond Heights, and sometimes all the way through Forest Park to the Central West End—a good twelve miles round trip. I would just walk and maybe smoke some weed, and I’d think of all those travel books and all my favorite characters, and I’d think about how as soon as I just couldn’t take school anymore—as soon as I started to get bored with everything—I’d just get up and leave. I thought about how I had to do that at some point—how I had to do it while I was still young, before the university life managed to scoop up whatever was left of my spirit and funnel me into the downward spiral of some sort of career pursuit or another. What was I in school for writing for, anyway? Screw being taught an art, I wanted to turn myself into art—make myself into the project I would work on for the rest of my life.

I would think about all that while walking and seeing the city at night—piece by piece, building by building—and I loved those walks, even if the part of the city I was walking through was just boring ol’ Richmond Heights. Back on campus, though, I have to admit that I’d always walk by Leah’s place before walking back to the dorms. Sometimes her light would be on, and I’d go over there and we’d run our whole routine, just a few hours later than usual. Other times, though, she wouldn’t even come to the door. And sadly enough, thinking back on all that now that I am more than a dozen years removed from the situation, that depression is still what I remember most about Leah—the way it would consume her, over and over again.

 Webster University is named after the place in which it resides—a mellow, inner-ring suburb of St. Louis called Webster Groves. It’s got a nice campus, with lots of old buildings and trees—some nuns founded it as a Catholic women’s college in 1915 before the first male students were admitted in 1962. ↩︎

 When Marc’s parents finally sold the house, they ended up selling it to some hot shot rookie for the St. Louis Cardinals. ↩︎

 When I say I was “at the height of my adolescent kleptomania,” what I mean is that it was pretty bad right around then. I would have never stolen from an individual person, or from a mom and pop sort of store, but big box department stores and grocery chains were like all-you-can-eat buffets to me. Nothing was off limits. I actually used to go into department stores in the mall or wherever and take like five t-shirts into the dressing room, put ‘em all on, then put my own shirt on over ‘em, cover up with a jacket or a hooded sweatshirt, and walk right the fuck out. I’d never have the balls to do that sort of thing nowadays. ↩︎

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