#also when chuck said ‘did phil put you up to this’

[mccoys-killer-queen]

All my comments on the Styx: Caught In the Act tape

I'm SO glad i bought this tape

Tommy on my TV screen hits so different 👁️👄👁️

again, I wanna know what their fucking budget was for the Kilroy film

I WANT MORE OF TOMMY'S ACTING I THOUGHT IT WAS GENUINELY GOOD

I love how pouty faced and dissociative Tommy is the whole time during Mr. Roboto like how the FUCK could he sit that still when that bop was blasting through him

he's just letting Dennis have his pick-me theater kid moment

and that GREASY FRIED CHICKEN STOPPGKAKAKGLG

"and when JY started his guitar solo-" *EVERYONE FUCKING SQUEALS*

this is getting me even more psyched for next month when I see them again

as much as I love this whole tape and am eating it the FUCK up I can totally understand why JY and Tommy hated every second of this (i was in drama club in high school I get it)

(it was here the wine started to kick in)

I stg these ppl only get along when Rockin the Paradise is playing

I'm getting in a habit of saying FUCK IT UP DENISSSS whenever he has a solo

Blue Collar Man- "the DOG and my friends"

TOMMY ROLLING HIS Rs STOP

TOMMY'S ROCKIN OUT AAAAA LOOKATHIMGO HE'S GETTIN SO INTO IT THIS IS HIS MOMENT iM GONNA BE GOING SO FUCKJNG FERAL FOR HIM IN THE 5TH ROW

Tommy pls don't fall I know you're light enough for me to catch u but pls dont fall

"the california state legislature was so loosened up they decided several records including ours had backwards satanic messages on them" NGMSKWKGOGOSLPG

JY'S MAKEUP IS SO HHHHGGGGGGGHHH

I'm such a fucking S L U T for the transition from JY to Tommy's vocals on Snowblind like that shit is better than sex

i'm just realizing now this is VERY different than what I was doing this time last night (touching Phil Lewis)

Tommy: this one goes out to all of you who ever felt like you had too much time on your hands :)

the way he SQUATS like boi he R E A D Y this is his MOMENT 👏👏👏

HIM DOING THE LITTLE HAND MOTIONS

"is it any wonder i'm not a terrorist?? 😃😃😃" TOMMY NO—

i was NOT prepared for him to actually do the unhinged eye stuff

"and IIII DONT KNOW WHAT TO DO WITH MYSELF- so I do this- *plays the solo*"

you may be cool but you'll never be as cool as Tommy Shaw that's the facts

i literally almost spit out my wine at "HE'S NOT THE PRESIDENT"

not prepped for the thing they did by splicing tommy's face bc this tape is almost 40 years old so i thought the tAPE WAS FUCKED UP

the completely unhinged ending Tommy and JY do at the end of Too Much Time by JUMP-SHUFFLING IN SYNC

Dennis and Tommy doing Don't Let It End 🥺 tommy seems to like it so much 🥺🥺

OH SHITTTTTTTT DR RIGHTEOUS IS HERE OH NOOOOOO

SHAKE IT JY FUCKIN POP IT I'M GONNA SCREAMMM

CHUCK AND JOHN I'M GONNA SCREAM

THE CROWD BOOING DR RIGHTEOUS LMAOOOO

the fucking "guitar shredder" made me snort

the angels put too much angel into Tommy when they were making Him

NOT THEM WARPING TOMMY'S VOICE AND THE PIXELATION OF THE FILM

TOMMY IN THE CROWD FUCK IT UPPPPP 👏👏👏👏👏👏

THE WAY EVERYONE'S TRYING TO TOUCH HIS HAIR

Dennis watching Tommy fall into the girls like "you're doing amazing, sweetie"

NOT JY AND TOMMY DOING A CROTCH THING ONSTAGE

TOMMY PLS KEEP SCREAMING AND CRYING OUT DON'T EVER STOP

What i would give to hear The Best of Times live 🥲

tommy's distorted voice in The Best of Times always makes me feel something in my soul i can't explain it

that being said the very end of tommy's solo in that song when the piano just starts to come back in also makes me feel something deep in my soul i can't explain it

that also being said tommy's distorted voice on the line "could bring back paradise" also makes me feel something deep in my soul I can't explain it

Dennis' smile and lil' "thank you"s at the end of The Best of Times 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺 💙💙💙

I just love that even 40 years ago as soon as ppl hear the first note of Come Sail Away they go feral like they do now

EVERYONE SINGING ALONG HHHHHHHH IT WARMS MY HEARTTT

i would lay down my life if it means i couldve been at this show

((it was here the second glass of wine kicked in))

I SAW THAT WINK JY

Chuck needs to come out of the shadows so we can see his insanely gay outfit

TOMMY BOUNCIN HIS LIL BUTT DURING THE KEYBOARD SOLO IN COME SAIL AWAY 🍑

something in me ascended when JY took over that solo 👁️👄👁️

THE GIRL ONSTAGE ONSTAGE HUGGING DENNIS AND TOMMY PLEASE THEY LIKE IT A LITTLE TOO MUCH THE WAY THEY WERE ALL SWAYING FMSKSKKVOBLF

that lil flick of tommy's wrist is SENDING ME FKANAKKFKG HE'S SO FUCKJNG BABY

UH OH TOMMY'S ON TOP OF THE PIANO

tommy needs to be kept on a leash and that's why i made those memes i posted

uh oh Tommy's convulsing and thrashing on the stage floor

UH OH TOMMY'S HUMPING CHUCK ONSTAGE

it's fine he's okay it's during Renegade he gets a pass on this one this is His Moment™ again

JESUS THAT'S A LOT OF SCREAMING TOM

it's okay it's during Renegade he gets a pass on this one

JESUS CHRIST THAT'S A LOT OF RUNNING TOM

JY and Tommy booty bumping so aggressively

TOMMY'S SHIMMYING FJSNAKKFKGKDK

OH NO THE STAGE IS GETTING RAIDED

JOHN NOOOOOOOO

oh so THAT'S how that guy died

Tommy as Jonathan: Dammit. DAMMIT! *girls squeal*

AAAAAAAAAATOMMYISSINGINGASONGASJONATHANGIVEMEHISTHEATREKIDMOMENT I'M LOVING THIS AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

Tommy's eye makeup is also so ✨✨✨

I feel the primal urge to give tommy a bouquet of roses after this show is over

i'm gonna cry Haven't We Been Here Before is just so beautiful i was NOT EXPECTING DENNIS/KILROY TO COME IN LIKE THAT

Fight me on this hot take but Tommy could do broadway and so could Dennis

the SWEAT that is GLISTENING on his face low key looks like tears

RIGHTEOUS 👏 THINKS 👏 IT'S 👏 OVER 👏👏

THE GLOWING GUITAR I'M TRYING NOT TO SCRAAEMAMD

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA TOMMY SING IT KEEP ROCK AND ROLL ALIVE YOU A R E THE MODREN MAN BABEY

I'M GONNA CRY HE'S SO GOOD IN EVERY CONCEIVABLE WAY

TOMMY PULLING THAT GIRL UP ONSTAGE AND SHE LOW KEY LOOKS LIKE ME

that was so fucking good I would KILL to see a rock show that also had a story around the whole set

[according-to-the-laura]

StackedNatural Day 148: 4x18

StackedNatural Masterpost: [x]

April 2, 2022

4x18: The Monster at the End of This Book

Written by: Julie Siege

Directed by: Mike Rohl

Original air date: April 2, 2009

Plot Synopsis:

An author has been writing books about Sam and Dean since 2005. Sam and Dean try to figure out how he knows so much about them.

Features:

Carver Edlund’s Supernatural books, the origins of Sam girls and Dean girls, God before He was God, or before we knew He was God, Chuck as Prophet, the Winchester Gospel, an offer from Lilith.

My Thoughts:

Watching this episode in retrospect of the series finale is honestly awesome. Somehow they’ve created the most perfect piece of accidental foreshadowing of Chuck as the final antagonist. Even the episode title agrees!

I’m a big proponent of the “Chuck was God all along” theory (versus the “Chuck is a vessel for God, who takes over at the end of s5”), mainly because it makes episodes like this so much more meaningful in the context of the entire series. Sam is so stubborn and stupid in this episode, and that’s because Chuck is writing him that way, and that’s because God wants this to end in brother vs brother with Sam as the antagonist. God tells him straight to his face that he’s an unsympathetic protagonist.

Meanwhile, Cas has another taste of rebellion in hinting to Dean at a solution to the problem that isn’t in the book, and Chuck says “What are you doing here? I didn’t write this.” Cas exists outside the narrative the moment he starts considering rebellion, even when he’s doing it because he (rightly) thinks that the angels aren’t taking orders from God anymore. Also, love the scene with Dean praying by the vending machine, love looking at it and thinking that Cas was already in love at this point, he just didn’t know it yet.

I love the metaness of this series and this episode is a great early example of it. Chuck saying that it’s douchey to write yourself into the story when there’s literally a character called Robert Singer and Chuck’s pen name is Carver Edlund. Lilith is telling the truth about dying at the end of the story (which she’ll do twice, fyi), but she’s manipulating Sam into causing it.

Just the arrival of the archangel at the end of the episode is awe-inspiring. It makes the Lucifer v Michael fight of season 13 look extremely pathetic, though.

Notable Lines:

“Sam and Dean are fictional characters. I made them up! They're not real!”

“Well, there's only one explanation. Obviously, I'm a god.”

“I am so sorry. I mean, horror is one thing, but to be forced to live bad writing…”

“I'm praying, okay? Come on. Please.” “Prayer is a sign of faith.”

“Archangels are fierce. They're absolute. They're heaven's most terrifying weapon.”

“Self-sacrifice is the Winchester way, isn't it?”

Laura’s (completely subjective) Episode Rating: 9.9

IMdB Rating: 9.3

In Conclusion: Fully obsessed with season 4 in retrospect.

<< Previous Day  |  Next Day >>

[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

[sweetberrysmooch]

HC: Call This The ‘Can This Man Cook’ Section

(….. I don’t think these men can cook 😔)

First post pog :D I wrote a majority of these super late at night, so please forgive and let me know of any mistakes you find <3 Also, it’s a little long lol

Characters: Dream, George, SapNap, Badboyhalo, Wilbur, Technoblade, Philza, Quackity, Fundy, Schlatt.

Warnings: None, except for a kinda risqué comment in Philza’s. Oh and I guess there’s mentions of eating meat in case someone wants the warning :3

Song Recommendation: I Love You So- The Walters

Hella fluffy! Hope you enjoy <3

From best to worst:

#1: BadBoyHalo-

Bad is the best at cooking on the server. He is the creme of the crop, absolute top one percent, king shit at cooking.

He can cook, bake, and temper chocolate perfectly, what more could you want?

His favorite to-go recipes are cheesy garlic bread and a special spicy chicken and rice recipe which he typically makes when the boys are over at his house for the night. When he’s with you he goes for something a little smoother, some mulled sweet berry cider with a smoked cod fillet, eaten under the light of candles while you quietly chat about life and your fellow friends. It’s always one of Bad’s most anticipated hangouts, and he’s very careful about planning when it comes to those days.

While he appreciates being complimented on his food or his skills, deep down he wants to have someone to cook and share his knowledge with so the cooking process becomes much richer. He’s cooked for so long and learned so much, but it means nothing if he can’t share it with another person. The moment you come to him and ask him for help on any kind of recipe, he’ll drop almost everything to help you.

Side note; he absolutely carried lunch and dinner for his fellow DTeam members. While Sapnap would mostly take over breakfast, Bad would be hounded by begging puppy looks from these adult men who couldn’t cook and kind of just sigh and get the ‘kiss the cook’ apron ready. It’s not like he hates it or anything, but the endearing factor kinda slips off after a few years of adult men groveling.

(Bad’s hands rest over yours, dwarfing them entirely as he helps you cut the pasta sheet straightly. “There you go!” He encourages, squeezing your hand gently and stepping away, moving back to dice the vegetables on the cutting board next to you. A comfortable silence falls, and with it comes something in Bad’s heart softening. The worries and exhaustion in his mind ease, and he slips into a contented routine of finely chopping and slicing. It’s been a while since he’s felt so calm. There’s nothing that can ruin this- 

The front door slams open. Footsteps walk in and approach the kitchen and you both hear it, 

“Baaaaaaaaad.” Bad cringes, taking a step back.

“Baaaaaaaaaaad, we’re hungry.” Sapnap. 

“Yeah Bad, feeeeeeeed uuuuuuus.” George. 

And then, from around the door frame, a white mask peeks in. Nobody says a word, but you can feel Bad deflate next to you like let go balloon. 

“It’s alright, big guy.” You laugh, grabbing his forearm and leaning up against him. His sad puppy eyes make you smile a little, and you try to reassure him. “We can hang out alone another time. Let’s keep working on the pasta.” He sighs, but still returns your smile. “Yeah, another time.”)

#2: Philza 

Sigh…. he can cook. Not quite as good as Bad can, but better than Quackity. A solid second place. It stems mainly from being so knowledgeable that he just knows and has tried so many different foods, but since he doesn't actually do much cooking, I'm making him a flaky second place.

Doesn’t mind cooking, but doesn’t love doing it either. He’s always focused on so many different things that he’ll forgo eating to keep working on what he’s doing. He mostly cooks for Techno and Ranboo or the few guests (you) they seem to receive. Makes great stew, and even better roasted chicken, is absolutely immaculate when it comes to cooking bird.

He didn’t teach Wilbur or Techno shit! I wish I could say it’s because he wanted to but just couldn’t, but he was literally like “hmm. Im a little busy now, maybe next year” every year!! But, this being said, if you ask him to make something with you or teach you how to cook a particular dish, he will agree to help you. Old age has really mellowed him out, and after certain events, he realizes he needs to stay a bit closer to those he cares about from now on.

He likes sweets well enough, and will always thank you for any gifts you make for him. Along with growing older, he’s had time to lose his pickiness he had in his youth. If he does end up cooking with you, he’ll prefer doing the harder recipes over easy ones. He will lose it laughing if it turns out bad, so don’t worry about any disappointment (his children make up enough of that ^^).

(“Now,” Phil starts, washing his hands quickly as you wait for him next to the cutting board. “Pufferfish needs to be prepared perfectly, or we will die when we eat it. But I don’t need to explain to you how a pufferfish works, now do I?” 

When you shake your head no, he comes up behind you, tarnished wings bound and hair pulled up in a pony tail. 

“The meat of a pufferfish is very delectable, and much better with a glass of wine.” He grins cheekily, “ If this works out well, which I’m sure it will, dinner will be delicious.” 

It falls quiet for a second, and as your hesitantly looking over the fish that may be your last, you gasp when you feel him press up against you back and rest his chin on your shoulder. “Maybe there’ll be other delicious things to eat as well,” He murmurs into you ear, before leaning back and busting out laughing. Your face feels stupidly hot. Dilfza quest activated.)

#3: Quackity-

Quackity:

Quackity can cook. I know!! I’d say he’s like the third best cooker on the list. And he’s not half bad at baking either.

He likes making up stupid bad recipes and trying them out with you, even if at the end of it the one of you up chucks your damned creations the hour after. Despite his reigning need for chaos though, he knows how to make a decent amount of recipes and strives for praise when he’s actually putting forward effort. He’ll arrange little dinner dates (“A handsome man and his very pretty friend, good food made by yours truly, and La Chona, what do you say, baby?”) and will sit there with a 🥺 look on his face until you tell him if you liked it or not.

He tries to act like he’s unaffected by your words, but even a small, “That was really good.” will make him turn red and giggle like a schoolgirl. He tries to play it off, but it’s easy to tell he loves the complements. Will also never tell you anything you make is bad. You are a deity descended upon  minecraft Earth and he is but your prettiest disciple who will uphold your honor and treat you like you should be treated!!!! But he’ll then promptly choose to help you with and guide you into cooking/baking better ^^; He loves you!

As for baking, he really likes making cakes because of how simple they can be. It helps calm him down when he can just slip into bake mode and follow a recipe and make something nice at the end of it. Speaking of, he also has a sweet tooth, but not quite as bad as Techno does. Any sweets or food you make for him is always eaten, and always held in high regard. Will try to entice you into feeding him 👀👀 so watch out.

(He’s doing it again. You try to avoid looking directly at the dopey lovesick smile Quackity has on his face at the moment, but as you lift the fork up, you get a better idea. 

You look at him (to which he seems to melt a little under your gaze), look at the fork, and then back to him, raising the piece of cake up to his lips. His expression turns flabbergasted and his blush deepens. 

He doesn’t seem to believe you for a second, until you nudge the cake close and flash him a smile. Then it’s like a switch has been flicked; he giggles, blushing, and eats the cake right off the fork. He’s gone back to smiling that silly smile again, this time even brighter, but it’s okay. You try to ignore the way your heart speeds up in your chest when he begs you for another piece.)

#4: Schlatt-

Another cooker~! He specializes with formal dinners more than anything else, and adores a good steak.

During his presidency, he didn’t cook very often. Quackity and you had to keep him fed through most of it, and the memory of watching you cook in his kitchen while he looked over work papers at his dining table leaves a mark on him, sealing a new crave for domesticity that he hadn’t ever wanted before.

Sometimes he would cook though. You, Quackity, and Tubbo would all gather around and eat together every once in a blue moon, when Schlatt was sober and calm. It feels tense at the table but also not in a way? Schlatt always seems to be chillest during dinner, a mix of the alcohol wearing off and the emphatic family feel that comes with Tubbo, Quackity, and you surrounding him.

He loves cake! It’s one of the few desserts he’ll eat, but you have to watch him closely or he’ll gorge himself of the treat. Indulge him and invite him to make a cake with you, and it will be one of the most interesting bakes of your life. How Schlatt got three eggs to stick to the ceiling is beyond you, but the look in his eyes tells you he’s completely fucking sober and hamming up his own cluelessness. You probably wouldn’t have even noticed if it weren’t for him hiding all the other eggs around your kitchen as well. How did he get one on the top of your door without it falling when you opened it? That’s between him and god.

Overall, a good 4th place on the list.

(“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Schlatt says, deadpanned, looking you right in the fucking eyes with an undisturbed egg sitting perfectly straight on his head. 

“Where are the eggs, Schlatt.” 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” 

“Schlatt.” 

“Yes.” 

The container you kept them in is completely empty on your kitchen counter, once full of eggs but now reduced to a desolate husk of its former glory. Speaking of former glories, your president turns around, arms crossed and stands there silently. 

You look around. Theres one in the door handle of in the pantry, another wedged between two slices of bread in your bread box, and- oh god. On the fucking ceiling. Three, stuck to the ceiling, unmovable. After a full minute of dead silence you manage a “What the fuck have you done?”, and Schlatt turns to look. 

“Oh hey. There they are.” Your mind turns into a rock, shatters, and crumbles into dust.)

#5: Dream-

Honestly if you’re looking for edible food that tastes range from ok to good Dream is your man. 5th place.

He knows a lot of ‘depression era’ type recipes just because he’s pretty homeless and his man hunts don’t allow him much time to hone his skills. Stuff like bread or mushroom stew comes easy to him after so many times of having to do it on the run. Bread is the only baking he won’t screw up.

Can cook meat well enough too, but doesn’t really do anything special to it (besides his sauces).

To elaborate: Over the unknown span of his life, he’s acquired these recipes for forgotten and questionable sauces that he’ll store in little jars and leave at your house for you to use. They’re odd, and the ingredients aren’t ever what you think might be edible, but they’re surprisingly tasty none the less. He likes to show you a new one every month or so to keep things fresh.

Pretty general about sweets, but has a severe love for chocolate, especially dark chocolate. Has never had one, but dreams about chocolate cake. It’s high on his bucket list and written another four times over.

One of his favorite things to do with you is bake, mainly because of how ruinous it always turns out. No matter your skill, Dream’s vibes decimates any luck the two of you will have while baking. It’s scientifically proven. You left the cupcakes in for a minute-JUST a minute over what they should’ve been and they came out rock solid. Dream tried to eat one anyway. Best part was watching him try to bite through the shell.)

(He thinks he’s over selling it, half-gnawing on the brown cupcake (it was supposed to be vanilla, he thought) and making stupid growls when his teeth barely break through the surface, but the feeling he gets when you start laughing hysterically next to him wipes away any negative thought he had and fills him with utter joy. 

It's very late into the night, and you’re both a little loopy, but all the while you still lean against him as you giggle, the spot tingling where your hand rests on his arm. 

His heart thumps crazily, before sinking. Oh god. He’s in love with you.)

#6: Technoblade-

Knows a lot, but very little. He can cook the meat perfectly fine, but there’s a difference between being cooked and tasting good. He doesn’t know how to season them. Salt is the bare minimum you get.

6th place ^^; sorry king.

He’s good with potatoes though. I like to think that the countless hours spent potato farming had to account for something. He likes having cheese and butter on them every once in a while, but for the most part just eats them salted like an animal. It’s practically a show to watch him eat a cooked potato in three bites without anything but salt on it.

Big man loves food though, even if he doesn’t eat like it. Steak and cooked fish are high on his list of foods, but only if it’s cooked by Philza. And eventually you fall into his “I trust to eat this from you” category as well, but he has a special place in his heart for Phil’s cooking. Rabbit stew is at the very top.

He also eats a lot, being 6’10 and 200 something pounds of muscle, gotta consume quite a bit to keep him moving.

As for the sweeter variety of food, he’s got a massive sweet tooth. The moment you make him an apple pie or honey candy or anything of the like, he’s immediately enamored with you. Sweet things are hard to come by on the smp, especially with how far out he lives, but it’s a secret weakness of his that is very easily exploitable.

(You’ll be the death of him, he thinks, watching you closely as you trudge your way through the freshly fallen snow towards his house. Your normal pack is lighter than it usually looks, and he worries that you may slip and hurt yourself on the ice before you make it to the door. But still, you keep walking until you're standing at his doorstep, fist raised to knock when he opens it for you. 

You look surprised for a second, and then a grin splits your face and his heart races. 

“I can’t stay for long,” you say, having spent at least 30 minutes to get there. “But I wanted to drop this off for you before you went out to hunt again.” 

Out of the bag, you pull another smaller leather bag and hand it to him gently. It rests heavy in his palm, and for a moment he’s sure it’s ender pearls that you’ve brought him. But still he opens it, and he’s immediately taken aback by the smooth golden candies you brought him. 

“They’re honey candies.” At this point you’re practically grinning. “I thought you might like some while I was making them last night.” 

He doesn’t have to see his own face to feel the deep blush setting in on his cheeks and ears. You…. you’re so…… sweet. You are very…. sweet, he admits to himself, and he is very not attached to you. Not at all.)

#7: Fundy and Sapnap tie.

Fundy- 

Has his old man's cluelessness but is a fast learner. He doesn’t have much time to expand his food repertoire so it’s pretty much the basic stuff that he’s eaten during the war or before that when he was younger.

He really likes cooking though, and will invite you to come cook with him for dinner or lunch if he wants to hang out. When they were together, Dream had given him an old dusty cookbook that had several recipes he hadn’t ever heard of before, so that’s where most of what he tries to make comes from. His favorite to date was a special mutton dish that he asked you to try with him on his last birthday. It was just the two of you, but he had never had so much fun before.

Doesn’t like eating fish however, there’s just some bad vibe he gets when he thinks about cooking one or catching one. (Desperately ignores the fish fucker. Desperately ignores the fish fucker. Despera-)

Loves sweet berries as treats, seeing as that’s the only sweet thing he grew up with. Not too big on other sweet flavors. Likes honey in his tea though.

7th place cooker, will get higher as he learns more dishes.

(He raises his wine high with a laugh, clinking your glass with it as you both giggle drunkenly. 

The lamb you had cooked together turned out amazing, juicy and tender and flavored with crimson fungus juice. The recipe was from an old cookbook he had, he faintly remembers telling you, hiding the fact that it was Dream’s cookbook that he was given after a particularly nasty argument. 

He doesn’t want to think about him, especially not while he’s with you. Especially not when it’s his birthday. 

So instead he ponders the trip through the nether he took with you to harvest some of the fungi, how the juice was tangy and slightly bitter, but how it had done wonders when basted onto the meat while frying. 

You had looked so happy when you two plated the dish, so proud of him, all in a way that Dream never was. 

Even now, as you tiredly smile at him from across the table, cheeks pink and eyes focused solely on the moment you were sharing, he feels at peace for once. This is what contentment felt like. Oh, how he loves you so.)

Sapnap-

Shame the shit cooker. Ok ok, he’s not as bad as some of the others on this list, but that’s just because he can make a half decent breakfast. It’s not much competition.

Bad has desperately tried to teach this boy some cooking besides eggs and toast, but the only things that seem to have stuck are mashed potatoes and grilled pork chops. Neither of which he even likes enough to make often.

He prefers fish to meat, and would eat any kind of cod you offered to him. Likes smoked salmon a lot, it’s something Bad made for him a lot when he was younger. He tries to recreate the dish, but comes up short and feels disheartened when it isn’t like Bad’s. He’d appreciate any time you took with him to learn how to make the dish, and it wholly sticks to his mind afterwards. He never forgets the experience, and treasures it very closely.

Likes not-sweet sweets. Not bitter per say, but just not very sweet. He likes chewy taffy in particular, but the old lady kind that lasts 60 years but gets hard in 6 minutes after being exposed to open air. Gotta be polite about it too, or he’ll end up embarrassed and pout for an hour.

(He’s eaten 6 of those fucking taffies since you sat down on the couch, completely straight-faced as the two of you of you listen to Dream and George talking. 

At this point you’re completely checked out of their conversation, solely focused on the taffy Sapnap keeps eating. Where does he even get those? How many does he have?? You’ve been friends with him long enough to have seen him pop a taffy every other second of the day. He seems to have a stash on him at all times tucked away, filled with paper-wrapped pastel covered sweets. 

“Want one?” Sapnap asks, holding out a light blue taffy with a little star drawn in yellow dye on the wrapper. 

“What?” Startled, you lean back a bit and realize you had been staring him down as he ate, and flush with how rude that probably seemed. 

“Want a taffy? I don’t mind sharing with you, cutie.” He winks and offers the taffy again. “....” You gaze at the taffy curiously. You’ve never seen him offer another person one of his precious taffies before. Hmm. “...Yes, thanks.” 

You take it delicately, unwrapping the wrapper and taking a bite of it experimentally. It’s very lightly sweet, soft and chewy and surprisingly pleasant. 

Sapnap watches you from the corner of his eye, softly smiling when he sees you eat the rest of it. Glad to see someone else has good tastes around here.)

#8. George-

Meager man makes a meager meal. I said what I said!!! This flatbread boy knows diddly squat, and the only things he can cook successfully are bread and mushroom soup. Which he will make. And that’s all he’ll make. Any food that isn’t that is cooked by either Bad or Dream, and he’s still picky about it.

He’ll make you the soup and bread ladies and gents. I’m not saying they’ll taste great together, but he will definitely make them for you. Anything else he’s pretty critical about, and he doesn’t care much for treats or dessert. He does occasionally like dark chocolate though, which he and Dream will beg Bad to make for them. Soon he begs you to make it for him, and then you have to go ask Bad how he makes it so George won’t complain about how it tastes different from Bads. It’s a weird situation. You make a lot of chocolate. Dream and George linger at your house for weeks on end until you get fed up and shoo them away with a broom.

To his credit, even though he can’t cook much, he’s really proud of his mushroom stew. Any time you let him cook, his go-to is his mushroom stew. He likes to feed you and know that you’re not hungry somewhere, and to top it off he gets to show you his prized dish; not Bad’s or Dream’s stew, but his. He’s cute or whateva…

(George places the bowl down in front you, stepping back and turning to grab his own, before sitting down next to you. He immediately begins to eat, and you give him a half glance as you bring the soup up to smell it. 

It… doesn’t smell that bad, actually. Not burnt, at least. You spoon some of the soup into your mouth. 

Despite all you’ve seen of George’s cooking, this is pretty well made. It’s nice and warm, and the flavors are rich and the mushrooms soft. You choose to ignore the small smile of his face next to you, and keep eating your soup quietly together.)

#9: Wilbur

Wilbur can’t cook for shit. Literally nothing. This man knows apples grow from trees and that animals are made of meat and that’s it.

You think Wilbur made any of his food when he was president or exiled or ever? Not a chance. He ate anything given to him, Tubbo and Tommy absolutely brought this man all the food they could find so he wouldn’t get eat straight trash or starve throughout the presidency. Techno slid him bare cooked potatoes in Pogtopia and he thought “oh this slaps….. this is the pinnacle of food”

Which I know, not really sexy. But! This means that the moment you feed him something a step up from a bare cooked potato he is in food heaven. He especially loves saucier kinds of foods with lots of flavor and spice to them, it’s just so fucking good. Food becomes his kryptonite after you feed this silly man.

With sweets, however, he isn’t that much of a fan. He does like those small lemon creme crackers, and you and da boys are the only ppl he’ll share them with.

(You hear him before you see him. The familiar clambering at your window draws your attention away from the pork you were dicing, and one look over your shoulder shows a disheveled but grinning Wilbur. 

“I hope I’m not too late for dinner.” He jokes, brushing off his pants before approaching you to press a kiss to your temple. Soon after that you hear another set of clambering, and two pairs of stomps reveals one Tommy and one Tubbo respectively. 

“What’s for dinner tonight, mate?” 

“Hope you don’t mind if we join in!” 

You sigh, turning back to hide your smile before they can see it.)

// Hope you enjoyed! I might write a pt2 of this later with some other ppl in it lol we’ll see :3

[goji-pilled]

MK-S: I think this is going to be some of the nicest fluff I’ve written in a while; for that reason, I’d advise that you DON’T READ THIS YET; I know you tend to jump around in your asks, and I sent some heartbreak first; I’d rather you read that, feel the heartbreak, THEN have it mended with fluff, instead of the other way around. Then again, I’ll be fast asleep and on a different continent by the time you read this, so I leave the order up to you, with this just a recommendation. Well, that’s enough stalling, time for the funny and the fluff:

MK-S: Klarissa’s reaction to the event another anon said, in which someone spent the night in her hat:

Klarissa:*Clicks a pen and readies her clipboard.* “Alright, question three: Does Phil snore?”

The Forsaken One: *Laying flat on his back, eyes staring straight ahead, and says in complete monotone:* “I have heard the pleas of forgotten nightmares, as they joined the chorus of screams in the hungry Oblivion that awaits all lost memories…”

Klarissa: “…I’m going to mark that as ‘a little bit, but not too bad.’ Alright, next question: Who are you, how’d you get in, and what on Earth compelled you to go into my hat? Wait, no, that’s three questions. Sorry, never done this before. Got excited.”

MK-S: Klarissa puts her hat on top of a snowman. Homura’s wrist feels unusually cold for the rest of the day, and she’s shocked to learn she got a little bit of frostbite despite having been indoors all day.

(Was originally going to make the “hat on snowman” a small number of really short items, but then this idea just exploded.)

MK-S: Klarissa puts her hat on top of a snowman. Phil animates the interior of the snowman with thin tendrils that go into the snowman, while also making it keep its shape. Klarissa and Phil the Abominable Snowman then proceed to have a snowball fight.

Kyoko sees this and chucks a snowball at Klarissa, which hits her dead on. Phil and Klarissa then start to return fire at Kyoko, as everyone else watches.

Mami: “…I did not think I’d ever see the day where Frosty the Snowman would be brought to life by an actual magic hat.”

Madoka: “Yeah, it’s surreal…Dibs on Phil’s team!”

Homura: “Same!”

Anthony: “I’m with my little sister!”

Mami tries to protest, as team Phil runs to join the two in throwing snowballs at Kyoko. A hand appears on her shoulder and she turns to see the remaining three members of the Seckendorff household all giving a massive grin. Mami sighs, bends down, makes a snowball, stands back up and says, “Fine. Let’s go save our redhead from the Phil-bominable Snowman.” The ensuing five on five snowball fight goes on for about an hour, with both sides eventually having wound up with small snow forts scattered about the area…then all of a sudden…Phil just stops…

The snowman’s wooden arms retract, as does the carrot nose, and coal eyes. After a moment, three carrots appear on the snowman’s head, one each at 9, 12, and 3 O’Clock. Six lumps of coal emerge, giving the appearance of three faces. Sixteen tree branches emerge from the snowman, eight on each side, one above the other. Each branch starts straight, but then start to independently break and splinter, so as to form 16 thin arms of various lengths. During this entire process, the white snow of the snowman slowly turned to a deep shade of gray.

The arms begin to make many strange gestures in rapid succession, and several glyphs appear in the air…and on the hands of all present. Kyoko is about to accuse Phil of cheating, but is shocked when the snowball she’s holding turns blood red in color, and she immediately drops it. Oktavia is about to ask if Kyoko is okay, but then notices that the snowball she’s holding has turned into a shade of deep ocean blue.

The same is all around them: Mami’s are yellow, Madoka’s pink, Anthony’s are a light sky blue, Homura’s purple, etc. Klarissa asks Phil what he’s doing; in response, the gray snowman’s many arms start to rip chunks of snow from its own body, yet said body never looking like it had said snow removed from it. Then Phil throws a grey snowball at Klarissa’s head. It makes contact like an ordinary snowball.

There is silence in the field for a moment as everyone just watches. Klarissa wipes the gray snow off her face and asks what that was for; Phil throws another snowball at her face. After Klarissa wipes the snow off again she has a look of realization. “Wait, do you mean?” Phil appears to nod as he reloads the two spent snowballs with snow near its neck. “Ah, now I get it.”

Klarissa then cups her hands around her mouth, and in a tone that is brimming with excitement with a tinge of mortal fear shouts: “EVERYBODY VS PHIL!!”

The battle goes on for two hours. Snowforts rise and fall randomly in the field, Phil gliding across the snow, seeming to see in all directions except directly behind him. The colored snowballs are a fun way of keeping score, and have no other effects (aside from just freaking Kyoko out earlier since her color looks like blood.) This random bit of dialog is had between Kyoko and Mami somewhere in the battle, while the Mermaid trio was trying to flank their many armed frozen foe:

Mami: “I blame you for starting this!”

Kyoko: “I’m sorry!”

Mami: “But I gotta say, this is really fun!”

Kyoko: “Uh, you’re welcome?”

Mami: “However, I still don’t approve of taunting creatures from other realities!”

Kyoko: “Make up your mind! Am I sleeping on the couch, or are we cuddling tonight?!”

Mami: “We’re cuddling on the couch!”

Kyoko: *Stands up*”Wooho-GAH!” *Stumbles back as Phil’s snowball hits her dead in the face, having been thrown up high when this dialogue began.*

Eventually the battle ends, the sticks retract into the snowman, and then Klarissa’s hat jumps off walking back towards her using the former arm sticks, now leg sticks, jumping up, and retracting into the hat that then lands on Klarissa’s head. The snow returns to a white color and everyone goes home.

At home , Klarissa’s takes off her hat and pulls out a few Thermos’s of hot chocolate. As she’s passing them out, the sticks poke out of Klarissa’s hat, attached to a large, glyph covered snowball; this snowball wooden-legged spider thing scuttles out of the hat and into the fireplace, and tucks all but one of its many wooden hand-shaped legs underneath the existing logs. The remaining stick hand snaps it’s “fingers” and a single burning glyph appears, setting all the kindling ablaze. And so the day finally came to a close, with hot chocolate and a roaring fire in the fireplace.

Hope that was fun to read! And hope it mended the heartbreak I wrote earlier.

Good thing fluff still exists,,,

[writing-wrxngs]

Winter Day

(I got the idea for something with wintery vibes very suddenly as I was walking to my math class the other night. It’s only mid November but we got our first little snowstorm cause I live right on Lake Ontario. It was shit to actually walk through bc I was underdressed and not about to take the elevator back up 8 floors and change. Still, I got super excited to see snow! I love winter, or at least the romanticized version of winter. Also this is hella long, enjoy!)

It was the Saturday after a snow day, which meant an extra free weekend for Techno, Wilbur and Tommy. For the older boys, it meant a break from all the work being loaded on their adolescent backs. Tommy was only in his first year of school so he was just excited for a long weekend away from boring teachers.

Phil let the boys sleep in even more than usual. It wasn’t often school closed on a Friday, they deserved a treat. They had spent most of the snow day messing about and had tired themselves out. Instead, he sipped his coffee in the kitchen and waited to see which boy would roll out of bed first. To his surprise, it was Wilbur.

“Mornin’” the boy mumbled, rubbing sleep out of his eyes. He walked over to one of the cabinets and pulled out a bowl. Setting it down on the table, he went to the pantry and grabbed a random box of cereal from the top shelf. The ease with which he was able to do that still surprised Phil. Wilbur was growing like a weed, and even at his age, was taller than his father already.

Phil watched this ritual silently. Tired teenagers were like wild animals, and agitated easily. Of the two older boys, Wilbur was the one with the worse sleeping habits. Neither of them slept well, as was expected of teenage boys, but Wilbur was definitely the stereotypical tired out insomniac. Phil had no clue what kept him up, and let him for the most part, as it seemed like any attempts to help the boy change his sleep schedule failed.

Once he was done making the cereal, Wilbur sat down to eat. He scowled as he took the first bite. He might not have paid attention to what cereal he got, but he still wanted a particular one. Whatever. He had already poured this bowl. It wasn’t bad, either, just not what he had hoped for. The disappointment already wavering, he continued on eating.

It wasn’t long after that Techno came down the stairs. “Wow,” he said as he entered the kitchen. “Wilbur’s awake before me?”

Wilbur looked up from his cereal. “Don’t,” he replied morosely.

Techno couldn’t help but chuckle at the response. “What, didn’t sleep or something?”

Groaning, Wilbur turned to his brother. “I slept. I slept quite well, thank you very much,” he snapped.

“Doesn’t sound like it,” mumbled Techno.

“Like you would know. You somehow act just fine no matter how much sleep you get. I’m just not a morning person.”

“Alright, alright, I’ll back off,” said Techno. He did indeed back off, leaving to find himself some breakfast.

Phil shook his head at the two of them. Not in any disapproving way, more so a playful acknowledgement of their behavior. Their petty little fights were unstoppable, so he let them happen, waiting in case the fight escalated.

Wilbur finished his cereal as Techno sat down to eat his breakfast. After that, he left to go back to his room.

In his room, he flopped haphazardly onto his bed and relaxed. He wasn’t tired or anything, he just wasn’t awake yet. From his bedside table he picked up the book he was reading last night and continued where he left off. From over the top of his book he saw Tommy leave his room and head downstairs. He was finally alone for a while. Tommy would be a while downstairs, occupying Phil, and knowing Techno, he’d stay down there the whole time, talking about something Wilbur couldn’t care less about.

It was whatever. Wilbur was quite adept at slipping out of familial situations. Tommy and Techno seemed to fill his father’s time plenty anyways.

To his surprise, and perhaps even his chagrin, Techno came in earlier than anticipated. “So like, why’d you lie about not sleeping at breakfast?” He asked as he sat down on his own bed. “You know I know when you’re up.”

Wilbur slapped his book closed. “I lied ‘cause it’s nobody’s business.”

“We literally share a room. Your business is my business. It’s my right as the eldest to bother you about it.”

“Don’t you have things to do besides be a dickhead? A recital to practice for? Strategy books to read?” Asked Wilbur.

Shaking his head, Techno said, “I’m not in the mood for that today. Spent all of yesterday doing things like that ‘cause of the storm.”

Wilbur nodded in agreement. “More than I did. When did snow days become boring?”

“Well, Wilbur,” said Techno, “they got boring for you when you started spending all day waiting for a girl who definitely isn’t gonna call you to call you.”

Wilbur shot a glare at Techno. “At least girls have my number.”

Rolling his eyes, Techno shrugged off the comeback. “Seriously though, Wil. You should do something.”

“I was doing something,” said Wilbur, gesturing to his book.

“I mean actually doing something. Get out of bed. I know, come downstairs and we can do a little sparring.”

“If you just wanted some sword practice, you could’ve just asked me,” said Wilbur dryly. In all honesty, it didn’t sound like a bad idea. “Gimme a sec to get dressed and I’ll meet you down there.”

Techno nodded and left Wilbur alone to change out of pajamas and into something more fitting for a fight.

He walked downstairs and into the practice room. Well, half of it was a practice room. It was still technically a playroom, with half of it still having Tommy’s toys strewn about. In the half dedicated to the older boys, part of it had all their musical instruments in a corner, with sheet music and guitar tabs haphazardly splayed about on stands. The part that mattered was the fighting corner. It had practice weapons, and fighting dummies. Phil had this part put in a year ago, at the boys schools suggestion, after Techno’s third suspension for fighting.

“You ready to lose?” Asked Techno, who was waiting for him in the corner.

“Losing won’t sting too badly, there’s no audience,” replied Wilbur. “Can’t bruise my ego if no one sees it.”

“You’re still gonna lose.”

Smirking, Wilbur said, “I know, but what’s a win if there’s no witnesses?”

Techno tossed a practice sword to Wilbur. “You’re really taking all the satisfaction out of this, you know.”

Catching the sword, Wilbur nodded. “I know. It’s called mind games, Technoblade. I thought you’d know all that, with all the war books you read.”

“I think it’s called ‘delaying the inevitable’. Get over here and fight me.”

And that’s exactly what Wilbur did. Techno was correct. Wilbur did lose, but then again, Wilbur always lost. They weren’t kids anymore, and Techno had long stopped giving his little brother pity wins.

Wilbur got himself up, and turned to leave. As he did that, the good mood he had fell. Tommy was standing in the doorway.

He didn’t even say hello. “How come you always lose?” He asked.

“How come you never let people know you’re watching them?” Retorted Wilbur.

“I just got here,” said Tommy. “I’ve been watching cartoons, but they’re over now. Dad said I could play outside if you and Techno watched me.”

Techno, who had been putting away the swords turned to the other two. “And who says we want to watch you?”

The question made Tommy think. “Me,” he said, stretching his arms out to fill the doorway. “I won’t leave until you say you’ll go.”

“Kid, I can literally pick you up with one hand,” said Techno.

“Didn’t he try to bite you last time you did that?” Asked Wilbur.

Yes. Yes he did. Techno grimaced at the memory. “I think we’ve just been cornered by a five year old.”

Wilbur silently agreed. “Fine. We’ll take you.”

“Yes!” Cheered Tommy, who immediately ran out to get dressed.

The two followed behind, knowing he’d take longer than the two of them, seeing as he was younger and getting dressed more than they were. Still, it was decently cold out, so they threw on some heavy jackets and your usual winter accoutrements. After slipping on some boots, the two older boys followed Tommy out.

With intent, Tommy marched out to the back yard, which was piled high with snow from the storm. “You know, it kinda looks like a fort,” Tommy said, looking at the snowbanks. “Oooo,” he mused. “We could have a snowball fight!”

“We’d pummel you if we did a snowball fight,” said Techno.

“Well, maybe we could do teams?” Tommy suggested.

Wilbur shrugged. “I mean, me and Tommy would be pretty equal to one of you, Techno,” he added.

“Not really but it that’s what you wanna do, go ahead,” Techno said.

“Yes! That’s what I wanna do!” Said Tommy, already dragging Wilbur to one of the snowbanks.

Once there, Wilbur hunkered behind it, not easily hidden the way Tommy was. “Start making snowballs, go!” He whispered, then standing up. He turned to Techno, who was behind his own snowbank. “Now,” he said, putting on an extra dramatic voice for Tommy. “These are the official rules of duelling with snowballs! Number one: you cannot start throwing until the end of the count! Number two! You must announce when you’ve been hit! And number three: first one to hit their opponent ten times is the winner! Understood?” He called out.

“Understood!” Called back Techno.

Melodramatic? Yes. Did it keep most of the other neighborhood children from playing with them? Probably. But was it fun and made Tommy look at Wilbur like he was a god? Absolutely. “Oh-Kay! Three! Two! One! Go!” He shouted, immediately dipping behind the snowbank. A snowball whizzed above his head.

Tommy chucked one, and to everyone’s surprise, landed the first hit of the fight.

“Hit!” Called Techno, who went down to collect more snow.

“Nice one, Tommy!” Said Wilbur, throwing a snowball and missing. As he shook off the loss, was hit square in the chest with a snowball. He made a noise as the impact was made, then called the hit. He left Tommy and moved to another part of the snowbank for a different angle. As he did so, Tommy tried to hit Techno again.

Techno, being Techno, dodged it. He instantly retaliated.

The hit almost knocked Tommy backwards. “Ow!” He cried, before shaking it off. “Hit!” He called out, heading back down and rubbing the shoulder that was hit.

Tommy’s reaction made Techno pause. He wasn’t sure if he actually hurt Tommy or if he was just being a baby. It could be hard to tell. This pause was just long enough for Wilbur to pelt him, hitting him on his cheek.

“Get your head in the game, Techno!” Teased Wilbur.

“It’s not my fault! I was only standing there cause Tommy acted like he got shot!”

“Just call the hit, dude,” Wilbur said.

“Fine,” Techno said, rolling his eyes. “Hit.”

This went on for some time, them calling hits until they were almost tied. Seven to nine, Techno’s favor. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Tommy, so he turned went to throw a snowball at him, but Tommy jumped out of the way just in time.

While Tommy distracted Techno, Wilbur ambushed him, and got a hit off, as called by Techno.

And then, Tommy pelted another snowball at Techno.

“What the hell?” He asked, dumbfounded by the ambush. “Hit,” he added realizing he hadn’t called it. Both of his younger brothers were on him, and very close. Closer than he knew they were. He was stuck. They would obviously the final blow as soon as he went to make a snowball. They already had snowballs.

“And you said it wouldn’t be an even matchup,” said Wilbur. He tossed the snowball in his hand once, then whipped it.

It hit Techno right in the face. Frowning, he wiped the snow off of his face and called the hit. “You guys won. I hope you’re proud of yourselves.”

“We are,” said Tommy.

Before Wilbur could get in a snarky comment, the back door opened. It was Phil, who had popped his head out now that he saw his sons were done with their game. “You guys have been out for too long!” He called. “Get inside before one of you gets sick!”

“Fine!” Wilbur called back, already heading to the front door.

Techno and Tommy followed behind, and they took off their winter gear together in the foyer. Both Wilbur and Techno wiped their glasses on their shirts to defog them as they walked into the living room, taking in the heat of the house.

“I was gonna call you boys in earlier, but you were having too much fun,” said Phil from the kitchen. “I figured I’d use that time for something else.”

Tommy was the first to notice, and broke out into a run. “Hot chocolate?!” He asked in surprise.

The older two followed behind, the suspicion correct. Wilbur eagerly grabbed a mug and sat down. “Thanks,” he said, taking a sip. The warmth spread through his chest and into his stomach.

“Did you three have a good time out there?” Asked Phil.

Wilbur nodded.

“Me and Wil beat Techno!” Added Tommy.

“I saw,” said Phil. “You wanna tell me about it?”

Tommy’s eyes lit up. The chocolate already giving him a rush, he began to tell Phil the story of how he and Wilbur conquered their older brother.

Watching this, Wilbur couldn’t help but smile into his mug. Today was a good day. He hated to admit it, but Techno was right. Getting out and actually doing something did make him feel better. Now, even though it was still midday, he felt good. As much as he sometimes felt out of place in his family, he still loved good times like these. Yeah, today was a good day.

[fallingappleshurt]

im in the mood for angst, so for your dff au, could you please writing a one shot or smth along those lines of techno coming home from a particularly tough duel and everybody else’s reactions? ty!!! <33

YES HELLO I WRITE

Yes Hello I’m a writer and I forgot about asks but here we go!! I’m sorry this took so long and that it’s really bad but here it is!

This is very poorly edited I’m so sorry lol, this takes place in my dff AU! It’s spunky

And it’s been awhile since I’ve written for this AU so things are a little weird, kind of missed the angst but I got ideas don’t worry

TW: violence, fighting, description of injury but nothing too graphic I think

Dicey Nights

Sword in hand, solid stance, deep breath. He could do this.

Techno tapped his foot anxious against the cement floor, waiting for his opponent to climb over the ropes and enter the arena. The air was thick and hot from the muggy night’s humidity and the crowds incessantly loud cheering. The arena was dimly lit around the stans, all light coming from a giant overhead, casting grimmy light over the blood splatters that stained the rough concrete.

His opponent entered the ring, eyes flashing in the light, lips quirked up in a barely perceptible grin. Techno’s anxiety shot from his stomach to his heart, this man was like a tank, tall with bulky limbs and long flat sword.

Techno pushed his worries away, he had taken on opponents bigger then himself before, just not that big, but they needed the money, he had to win this.

They both walked to the middle of the platform, shook hands, the other man gripping too tightly to be friendly, then they turned and walked back to their starting places.

The buzzer sounded and the man shot forwards, sword swinging in an arch, Techno’s sword clashed with his, metal screeching pierced the air as the man tried to overpower Techno, putting his weight on the sword.

Techno kicked him in the knee, the man sputtered and slipped, allowing Techno to dodge to the side then ram into the man, sending him to the ground. He moved to slash his sword at the man’s neck and fake out the audience then the duel finished, quick and easy if the man stayed down for the three count.

Suddenly the man lashed out and landed a kick square into Techno chest, sending him reeling. Techno scrambled to his feet, stifling a groan. His ribs protesting vehemently, sending shockwaves of fire through his chest, he watched as the other man rolled back onto his feet.

The man, Techno heard the crowd cheering ‘Go Thrasher!’, ran at him again, opting to not overpower him but overwhelm him, he swung wildly, he obviously never had any training.

Techno took the defensive, slash, stab, dodge, block, kick back, and repete, analyzing Thrasher’s fighting style, his patterns and goto movements. Once he memorized the motions he switched to offense, changing his own patterns as well, quick slashes and jabs, forcing Thrasher back, Techno would kick at the man’s legs then go back to swinging.

In a ditch effort Thrasher whipped his sword around only for Techno to kick it out of his hands, sending it flying. Techno slammed into the man once again, taking advantage of his distraction, and knocked him to the ground.

He pointed his sword at the man’s neck, looking down the blade at Thrasher, the crowd around him screaming, “Go Blade go!” He tried to keep his face emotionless, waiting for the announcer to call it off.

Thrasher wasn’t giving up, he kicked at Techno again, who half dodged half stumbled away. Thrasher moved faster then Techno had even seen, Techno lashed out, slicing his arm but it didn’t faze Thrasher. Rage blazing in his eyes he jumped on Techno and knocked him to the ground, half pinning him, a knee on one of Techno’s arms, knocking his sword away.

Thrasher punched him across the face, Techno’s head jerked to the side, pain flaring in his face, nausea rising in his gut as the man reared back and hit him again and again.

Techno weakly grabbed for his sword but came up short, his vision was blurring, hot blood dripped down his face, matting his hair. In a last ditch effort, he threw a punch, aiming for Thrasher's throat, he hit his target dead on and hard.

Thrasher gasped and faltered, his grip loosen and Techno took his chance. He yanked himself away and sent another kick to the man's chest, scrambling towards his sword.

He didn’t know what he was doing, he couldn’t win this, the adrenaline would wear off soon and he’d lose, he wouldn’t be able to fight after this, he’d have to go home empty handed. That thought alone made him feel even more sick.

Thrasher rose to his feet, breathing heavily, Techno got into a weak stance, prepared to go down fighting. You weren’t allowed to kill in the duels but Techno was scared Thrasher would chuck those rules out the window. Thrasher’s fists were clenched, cracked and bloody at his sides, fire in his eyes, he let out a roar. Techno’s grip on his sword tightened and he prepared to swing-

The buzzer sounded.

The fight lasted 10 minutes, the announcer called it a draw. The audience booed and complained as Techno went to shake hands with Thrasher.

Thrasher looked at Techno’s hand in disgust before slapping it away, “You fight dirty, freak.” He growled, Techno scowled but bit his tongue and flipped Thrasher off and stalked off as dignified as he could with the room spinning like a toy top.

He grabbed a bottle of water from the sidelines and chugged it when one of the organizers threw a small pouch at him.

“You’re off your game,” The women commented lazily, not looking up from her clipboard, “I expected better.”

“Then you hop on in there,” Techno grumbled, not making eye contact as he pocketed the pouch, he sheathed his sword.

“I’d rather die,” She said, eyes flickering up from the page, “Just like you almost did.”

Techno snorted, “Please,” He said, shouldering his bag and walking towards the bathrooms, “I neva die.”

He somehow managed to get to the bathroom without collapsing, he pushed open the door and stumbled over to the sinks. He gripped the edge tightly, waiting for the room to stop spinning, he looked up at the mirror and realized he was fucked.

There was a gross cut on his hairline, trickling blood down his face, the right side of his face was covered in blooming bruises, blood from his nose smeared down his chin, he looked like a mess.

He felt like a mess.

Techno grabbed a paper towel and ran it under the faucet then scrubbed it against down his chin and along his hairline, ignoring the sting. He dried his face off then filled up his water bottle, dreading the fact that he couldn’t hide this from his family. He hoped to get home before Wilbur or Tommy woke up, he knew he couldn’t avoid Phil, he got up extra early to be able to commute to work.

Techno started home, not bothering to stay for any other duels, he wouldn’t be able to win, not in the state he was in anyways. He squeezed past the security guards and tried not to fall while walking, the trip home only should have been around forty minutes but between his slow pace and stopping to take breaks so he wouldn’t pass out it took him over 2 hours to get back.

The rusty metal stair squeaked as Techno climbed them, they groaned as he put his weight on the railing, god he wanted to lay down.

He unlocked the door, trying to push it open as quietly as possible, of course the door made that impossible as it creaked loudly.

The door cast a shadow on the soft light coming from the kitchen, Techno could hear dishes clicking quietly.

“Hey Tech,” Phil said, as Techno locked the door again, “You’re back later then usual-” He stopped, staring at Techno’s face, Techno immediately put his hands up, “Now I know what you’re thinking but let me just say; it’s not that bad.”

“Sit,” Phil said, setting his coffee cup down, Techno rolled his eyes, but sat down anyways. “Yeah I saw that coming,”

“Please tell me the other guys looks worse,” Phil prodded at the bruises on Techno’s face, Techno shrugged.

“Please tell me you didn’t get your face fucked up for nothing,”

“I hope? I mean I got a few good hits in, oh that reminds me,” Techno leaned over, rummaging through his bag for money pouch,

He immediately regretted it because it made the room spin again. He grumbled but found the pouch and tossed it on the table.

”It’s not a lot but it’s something,” Techno trailed off, he could have stayed longer, fought harder, been more useful but a few bruises sent him running back home. “I can go back tomorrow, get us more-”

“What? You’re not going back, you look like shit!” Phil said incredulously, checking the cut along his hairline,

“But we need the money,”

“We’ll get by,” Phil’s eyes narrowed, mouth in a tight line.

“That’s a lie-”

“No it’s not,”

“Phil I’m not stupid we need more and I can go back, tonight was just an off, when I go back I can get us more-”

“You’re not going back!” Phil said firmly, “You’ll get hurt again-”

“It’ll be worth it-”

“No! It’s not! Nothing is worth you getting this hurt!” Phil snapped, he took a breath, shoulders slumping. “I’m sorry it’s- it’s just not worth it, you need to be okay too, you deserve to be okay.”

Techno sat there, not sure what to say. Phil looked at the clock and swore under his breath, “Shit, I’m gonna be late,” He grabbed his coat, “I’ll see you later, take it easy, alright?” Techno nodded as Phil walked out the door.

He sits there for a minute, not sure what to do, he wants to sleep for 45 hours but he is also hungry. He opted to grab a banana when he hears Wilbur yell from the other room;

“Tommy brush your hair!” The bedroom door opened, “No! It looks fine!” He didn’t notice Techno as he walked into the bathroom, Wilbur followed him out a moment later.

“Hey Wil,”

“Hey Tech, you're up earlier and oh my god are you okay?” He trailed off to the next point, gesturing gingerly at Techno’s face.

“Yes, I’m fine, I promise,” Techno said again, putting his hands up and rolling his eyes. Wilbur nodded, they stood there for a moment before Wilbur asked;

“Did Phil flip out?”

“Oh yeah definitely,”

“Well, at least something’s normal,” Techno snorted.

“Hey Wilbur, we’re low on toothpaste again-” Tommy said, coming out of the bathroom, he looked at Techno and trailed off.

“Uh, Techno, You’ve got a little something,” Tommy gestured to his own face, hand hovering over the whole right side, “on your face, like everywhere.”

Techno snorted and smiled softly, “Thanks for telling me nerd,”

“What happened?”

“Not important,” Techno said, grabbing an orange from their fruit bowl, tossing it at Tommy, who caught it with ease, “What is important is that you’re gonna be late for school, now get going.” He hadn’t told Tommy about the arena fights, he didn’t know how Tommy would react and he didn’t want to encourage it or risk it.

“No I’m not, you’re just avoiding the question!” Tommy protested, jamming his finger into the skin of the orange.

“You sure about that?” Techno nodded to the clock on the wall, 7:06.

“Oh shit, I gotta go,” Tommy said, Wilbur slapped the back of his head, “Language,”

“What come on! You say it all the time!”

“Yeah cause I’m older then you, now grab your shit,”

“Now you're just rubbing it in!” Tommy said, grabbing his backpack off the hook by the door.

“You’re right, now let’s go, I’ll walk to you,” Wilbur stopped in the doorway, Techno could hear the creaks of the stairs as Tommy jumped down. Wilbur looked at Techno, eyes soft.

“Go to sleep Tech, you look like you need it,”

“Well I was going to but now that you said that, I think I’ll stay up,” He teased, Wilbur rolled his eyes.

“If you aren’t asleep by the time I get back I will crush you,”

“I’d like to see you try,” Techno shot back as Wilbur closed the door, locking it.

The banana forgotten and set back on the counter, Techno slipped his shoes and laid down, hoping the others wouldn’t worry too much, he fell asleep almost immediately.

[theonlygamergost]

What happens in the toy aisle, stays in the toy aisle - Fd!au

This fanfiction is based on the Family Dynamic au made by @antarctic-bay if you would like to know more, go check them out!!!

Also please bear in mind that the things written in this might not be canon!

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

Tommy Techno and Will are pretty chaotic without supervision, so when they go pick up Phil from his workplace, they make a fatal mistake: they enter the toy aisle.

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

Enjoy~

Phil sighed in relief after a rush of clients had gotten out of the store, the offices had just closed so it was pretty normal for a rush to be around this hour, yet this one ending only meant that in a half an hour, the students rush was going to begin.

This also meant that he had half an hour to refill the shelves, so many things to do, so little time.

“Evening everyone! Evening Phil!” The new employee’s shift started round about now, he greeted everyone and went in the back where he worked, Phil was able to reply with a wave and a smile. The new guy had it rough since he worked the night’s shift in the warehouse, but Phil sometimes brought him coffee or something to eat before leaving work: the guy was slightly older than Wilbur and Phil only felt empathy for the guy.

He stretched his very tired body and started to put the products on the shelves, sleeping three hours for two nights in a row wasn’t the best idea he ever had but convincing Techno to stop studying so late wasn’t an easy task, plus, insomnia is a bitch ¯\_(ツ)_/¯.

The store’s “peace” (for how peaceful a store can be that is) was abruptly interrupted by the shouting of “HEY BIG P!!!!” coming further down the aisle. Customers and employees alike stared in confusion at the young boy who had yelled and the other two teens with him.

Phil turned to see his brothers wave at him with a grin on their faces, “Boys? Wha- what are you doing here?” He asked in disbelief, what were they doing here?

“We came to see you Big P!” Tommy hugged his older brother out of nowhere, making them almost lose balance. The other two smiled as they watched the wholesome scene.

“Thank you for coming to see me boys but, the store is on the other side of the town from your school! There has to be another reason you came all the way here” Wilbur and Techno snickered, making Phil more suspicious

then he already was.

“Now I’m genuinely concerned, what are you little shit-heads up to?” Phil engaged his dad-mode, placing his hands on his hips and looking at the teens for explanations. Tommy and Techno smiled innocently while Wilbur answered.

“We came here to pick you up after your shift ends! There was no point in going back home and then coming here so…” He looked around while putting his arms behind his back, Tommy nodded aggressively like he always did when Wilbur talked for the three of them, “We came here directly from school in my car, It just didn’t feel right to make you come back home on the bus. You work for all of us so this is the least we can do”

Phil stared at them in silence, that was so thoughtful of them.

Phil moved around town with the old trusted scooter their father gifted him on his sixteenth birthday, but as time passed, it only became more old and less trusty, so it was no surprise when two mornings ago the scooter didn’t start, the noises it emitted were more than worrying so he brought it to the mechanical near their house. He could afford the repair costs but he completely forgot that he had to use the bus to get to work, so he woke up “at the same time as usual” the next day… he didn’t calculate that the scooter was way faster than the public transport though,  so he arrived twenty minutes late.

“That is very… kind of you guys, but my shift ends in an hour, what are you going to do until then?”

Techno shrugged, “Laugh at kids toys” saying it like it was the most normal and obvious thing in the world.

Phil couldn’t help himself from face-palming, smiling behind the hand that covered his face: he loved his brothers very much, but god why were they so chaotic?

“Fine then, go to the toy aisle, just… don’t get yelled at for making too much noise ok?” Their eyes started sparkling, they were waiting for this.

After thanking and saying goodbye to Phil, Wilbur and Tommy bolted out of view, Techno sighed and shook his head before walking with hands in his pockets after them.

Phil smiled and got back to work, moving the groceries from the cart to the shelves.

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

“So wait, you’re telling me that the teacher gave you a vote without checking your paper?” Wilbur was playing with his yo-yo while casually chatting with Techno, Tommy was bouncing a basketball around them.

“Yeah, I mean… it’s pretty normal, the teacher says that it’s always a “waste of time” to check my papers because she never finds any errors” The blonde boy was half-listening to his older brothers, they said they were going to the toy aisle to make fun of stuff, “Stil, the teacher shouldn’t do that! Correcting homework is part of her job!” Yet they were talking about boring stuff, who cares about school anyway?

“I am aware Wilbur, that’s why she doesn’t like me anymore, I said in front of the class that she gave me an A+ but I made two errors she didn’t correct, now both the class and the teacher think I’m an asshole” Techno sighed, he never really cared about what people thought of him, but it still kinda hurt.

Wilbur stopped playing with the yo-yo, looking at the ground while in thoughts.

“Have you reported this to the principal?” Techno shook his head.

As he was about to say something, a bunch of bouncy balls hit them.

“GWAHAHA! YOU JUST GOT PRRRRANKED BRO!” Tommy laughed hysterically at them, holding a small box full of them.

“You in this Techno?” Wilbur grabbed a couple of balls off the ground, “Count me in Will” Techno juggled a ball in his hand, ready for what was about to happen.

“Wait- guys- w-we can talk about this!” Tommy slowly started to back away from them, hoping for an agreement.

“One…” Tommy gulped, Techno adjusted his glasses.

“... Two… “ Tommy became a stuttering mess, Wilbur grinned as widely as he could.

“THREE!” They said in unison, bringing back their arm to launch the bouncy ball as hard as they could.

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

Proudly, Phil placed his hands on his hips as he admired the work he had just done: The whole aisle was know refilled and ordinated.

He chucked the empty carton boxes into the cart along with the cutter and pricer. Taking it in the warehouse where the new guy and another employee were drinking coffee, the night was long for them so this was the first of many.

As they noticed Phil walking in, they greeted him, “Yo Phil! Want some coffee?” The older Pandel brother shook his head and thanked them, “No thanks mate, I’m good” Taking one card box at the time, he cut them and folded them to throw them away while making small talk with the other two employees.

“Did you know that the manager got caught flirting with that young cashier the other day?” One of the workers said after taking a bite of their sandwich, “He’s an asshole who looks like a creep, I’m not surprised… “ The other one was playing crosswords, he replied as he scratched his head. “Vertical, four letters, a Japanese company who products televisions and owns a console? Dude, I don’t play those videogames how am I supposed to know?”

“Sony” Phil replied while dropping off the cutter, the guy who asked the question stared at the journal. “Um… Oh Yeah! It fits! Thanks Phil” He scuffed it off as he closed the storage door, heading off to change out of his uniform. He wondered what mess the three brothers could have done while out of his sight.

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

Before he changed and waved goodbye to his co-workers, Phil had sent a text to Wilbur, asking him to meet up outside the store, when he arrived there, they were already waiting.

“Alright!” He stretched his arms “I’m so done doing shit today, who wants to order pizza?” The brothers agreed and cheered as they got into Will’s car, of course he was driving, so Phil sat in front and the other two in the back.

“Thank you for picking me up today” He looked at Wilbur.

“No worries big P!” Tommy emerged from the back seat, a soft “It’s the least we could have done” came directly from behind him, he smiled.

“So what did you end up doing while waiting for me?” The car became as silent as rock, Will’s eyes widened.

From that day, the three brothers never entered Phil’s workplace again, also bouncy balls were now banned in the Pandel household.

[aurumacadicus]

AUgust 5/31--Post-Apocalypse AU

I may not like killing off characters but I sure like making other characters think I did. The pairing is Phil/Tony! Watch out for under the cut!

--

Tony had always been a fixer. If someone’s car broke down on the side of the road near him, he rolled up his sleeves and tinkered with the engine until it purred like a satisfied cat. If someone’s phone stopped working while they were trying to interview him, he’d take it apart and have it fixed up enough for them to use it until they could get it replaced. If a program was glitching, he’d comb through the code for hours to find the bug causing it (and usually root out several others in the process).

So when society started collapsing after a virus brought corpses back to life… he fixed things.

“You’re going to work yourself into the ground,” Steve said, leaning in the doorway. He tried to look stern, but he sagged further against the jamb with every minute. “Tony. Are you listening to me?”

“I’m hearing you,” Tony replied, not crawling out of the jeep he was working on. “Listening requires effort and you don’t deserve any of mine.”

Steve stood up straight, scowling at him. “Hey. Don’t make me go get Jim.”

“I’ll just kick him out of my garage, too,” Tony informed him.

Steve opened his mouth, then closed it again with an angry sigh. “Fine. Work yourself to death. Because that’s what he would have wanted. Phil would be so disappointed to see you running yourself into the ground.”

Tony finally jerked his head up, glaring at Steve with all the fury he could convey in a single look. “Get out.”

“Tony,” Steve began, but clearly not in an ‘I’m going to apologize’ way.

“Get the fuck out!” Tony bellowed, and then, when Steve didn’t immediately leave, he threw the wrench he was holding at him.

Steve ducked out of the way, but barely. “Tony!”

“Get out! Get out! Now! Get the fuck out!” Tony shouted, grabbing any tool within reach and flinging it at him. “I don’t need your bullshit get out!”

Steve left, but probably only so he wouldn’t get beaned with a hammer or wrench. Tony glared after him, panting, then sagged down onto the seat he’d been trying to jimmy, holding his head in his hands. He took a moment to feel sorry for himself, then sat back up with a sniffle and wiped his eyes. He could cry when he went to bed. He needed to work. He needed to make the rear seat of the jeep easy to remove in a hurry if they needed the space.

New survivors were few and far between these days, mostly single stragglers, but every once in a while, an entire family made it into their scavenging zone. This last time the scavenging team almost couldn’t rescue everyone, because the parents had insisted that they not leave any supplies behind. They’d tried to insist that the team just take the children and leave the adults to try and fend off the hordes and make it on foot. Luckily, Natasha and Clint had been the leaders of the team at the time, and they’d quickly jerry-rigged the seat back far enough that the parents could stand on it and cling to the roll bar—a tight fit, but worth it, if the grateful tears as they disembarked from the jeep were any indication.

If he could make the seat easy to take out, he could also probably store some spikes in it that could be extended, so they could place it on the back bumper and use it as a weapon against the undead. That was probably better than just chucking the seat, because he could always put it back in to use as seating for the scouting trips. Until they mustered enough people and could begin extending boundaries, their vehicle options were limited—Tony and Rhodey were the only ones who were confident enough and quick enough to be able to switch out the power systems in the cars for arc reactors so they didn’t have to worry about dead batteries or gasoline.

Rhodey had been injured in a previous attack and Tony was the brain behind almost every new weapon or defense they came up with, so neither of them could join the scouts to try and get more vehicles; they had to wait for the area to be cleared, and even then, they were typically shadowed by at least four guns. Tony understood that—he’d been the one to insist that Rhodey get that protection, and he’d be foolish not to allow the same for him—but sometimes it left him feeling helpless, like he should be doing more.

Tony rubbed his hands over his face, then scrubbed his fingers through his hair for good measure, sighing. He knew that Steve was right, that Phil wouldn’t want him to be pushing himself like this, but… Phil was gone. And so were Pepper and Happy. He shouldn’t have let Pepper go on that business trip in his stead—sure, he’d had back-to-back meetings in New York at the time, but he could have hopped on a red-eye and been in California for the meeting. But he’d let her insist and had sent her and Happy off with a harried wave as he rushed to an appointment. Phil had caught a ride on the jet with them because Fury had mentioned something shady going on in the pacific northwest, and Phil had been the only available senior agent willing and able to go check it out.

And then bioterrorists had set off bombs full of the virus they’d created all over the globe.

Tony hadn’t been able to find Fury in the bedlam following the attacks, and hadn’t been able to get a hold of Phil or Pepper or Happy. The rest of the Avengers had seen the pandemonium and, unable to contact SHIELD, had made their ways to the Avengers compound that had been only used sporadically until then. It was far enough away from everything and solid enough that it would make a good temporary base, and Tony had quickly devised a way to fortify it for permanency, and they’d slowly taken back several miles of area and made it safe, but the fact of the matter was that they were too busy surviving to find a cure, and were now at the point of just waiting for the infected people to die so they could go out in hazmat gear and clean up, see if there were any other pockets of survivors.

Tony wouldn’t admit it out loud, because everyone else seemed to have hope, but he didn’t think that they would find Phil, Pepper, or Happy. Pepper’s armor had never been activated after the explosions; Happy would have been with her. Phil would have tried to come back to New York to try and find Fury, and even crossing from their territory to a group in Massachusetts was dangerous—a cross-country trip would have been suicide. And Phil would have made that trip either way, to find Fury or, failing that… to find Tony. And while Phil was smart and resourceful… three thousand miles was a long way to cross when infected people wanted to cannibalize you.

Tony felt a hand resting on the nape of his neck and jerked a little in surprise, pulling his hands from his head to look up. “Huh?”

“Come on, Tones,” Rhodey said gently.

Tony felt the argument rising before he could think about it, because he always argued about resting nowadays, but what came out of his mouth was, “Steve said Phil would be disappointed in me.”

“I know,” Rhodey answered, voice carefully neutral. “He shouldn’t have said that.”

“He was right,” Tony continued, resting his elbows on his knees and sagging onto them.

“He was,” Rhodey agreed. “But he still shouldn’t have said it.” He cupped Tony’s cheek in his hand and sighed quietly as Tony leaned into the touch. “Come on, Tony. Let’s get you into bed.”

Tony allowed himself to be pulled out of the jeep and onto his feet, wincing a little as he felt the painful little pulses from his toes to his knees. He wondered how long he’d been sitting there, as Rhodey carefully pulled his arm over his shoulders to support him as they limped toward the door of the garage. “I think Phil’s dead,” he whispered.

Rhodey, to his credit, didn’t flinch or hesitate. “I know,” he told him gently. “And I know you think Pepper and Happy are dead too. It’s hard to have hope, especially with all of the bodies we’ve come across. It doesn’t make you weak to say so.”

Tony nodded, trying to swallow the lump in his throat. He knew it didn’t make him weak, logically, but sometimes it felt that way, like he was letting everyone down for not being strong for them. He faltered to a stop when he saw Steve leaning against the door to his room, leaning more heavily on Rhodey even though his legs were no longer asleep. Rhodey, unfortunately, kept walking a few steps before he realized, and Tony was dragged along with a squawk.

Steve noticed the commotion and stood up straight, ducking his head with a cough when he noticed the look Rhodey was giving him. “I, uh—I’d like to talk, if that’s alright.” He held up a bag. “I thought you might be hungry.”

“Is that your rations?” Rhodey asked him sternly.

“No, Wanda’s been setting aside Tony’s share, and when I told her what happened, she just handed me the bag,” Steve answered, ducking his head further. “I learned my lesson the last time I tried to give up rations.”

Rhodey continued to stare him down, giving Tony’s wrist a squeeze. Tony looked up at him, then looked back at Steve, who was still staring down at his feet and rubbing the back of his head nervously. Finally, he sighed, because he was hungry, and tired, and he just wanted to sleep. So he inclined his head and then tipped it toward the door.

Steve looked relieved. He stepped back to let Tony unlock it, then followed him inside. He turned to see if Rhodey was going to join them, but the other man just shook his head, so he closed the door behind himself. He offered the bag of food to Tony and then gingerly sat down on the edge of the bed. “So.”

“So,” Tony agreed, pulling the bag open and peering inside. He made a happy sound when he saw the tomato inside, even though he knew it shouldn’t be there. “I thought we agreed that the tomatoes would be canned for the winter.”

“Yeah, but I know you like tomatoes, and if we were going to sacrifice a tomato for someone, it should be you,” Steve said, then sighed, rubbing the back of his head again. “Tony, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have talked about Phil like that. I should have just gone to get Jim in the first place.” He watched Tony dump the bag out on his bed, pawing through the contents until he’d separated two protein bars, a small bag of potato chips that had been baked just that day, and the tomato. “Eat a protein bar first,” he ordered. “Otherwise you’re going to go to bed on a single tomato and you’ll be miserable when you wake up.”

Tony scowled up at him mulishly, but he obediently grabbed a protein bar and peeled it open. “Fine.” He tried to eat it slowly, but with the food spread out in front of him, he realized he was very, very hungry, and more exhausted than he’d realized earlier. He scarfed the bar down in four bites, then opened the bag of chips to eat a couple of those as well. Then, knowing he only had a little bit before his exhaustion caught up with him, he picked up the tomato and bit into it like an apple.

“Did you hear my apology, or are you going to ignore it?” Steve asked, once it was clear that Tony actually had a moment to speak now.

“I mean. You didn’t say anything that wasn’t true,” Tony muttered, not looking up at him.

Steve frowned. “Even if it was true, that doesn’t mean I should have said it. And it isn’t true.”

Tony looked up at him from under his lashes, frowning. “Yes, it was.”

“No,” Steve said firmly. “It wasn’t. If Phil could see you now, he’d be so proud of all the work you’ve done to keep people safe. He couldn’t be disappointed in you for not taking care of yourself because he would have been here to get you to rest and eat. You would never be a disappointment to him, Tony. He loved you too much.”

Tony stared up at him for a few minutes, silent, then quietly murmured, “Past tense, huh?”

Steve, to his credit, didn’t try to backpedal. “It’s been three years,” he pointed out softly, and Tony remembered all at once that Sharon hadn’t made it back to the compound either. She’d been in D.C. at the time of the bombings, and they’d been targeted heavily. She’d been much closer to the compound than Phil had. “I mean, he could still be out there. Three thousand miles is a long way to go when you don’t have reliable transportation and limited ammunition. But I think you’re thinking about him in the past tense, too, aren’t you?”

Tony swallowed thickly, nodding a little. “Him and Pepper and Happy.”

Steve said nothing, simply reached out and laid his hand on Tony’s shoulder. Tony leaned into the touch. They weren’t special. Everyone had lost someone. Some people had lost everyone. They were lucky. Still, it hurt.

“You should get in bed before you’re too tired,” Steve said after a moment, pulling his hand away.

“I don’t want to sleep,” Tony admitted, before he could swallow it back down and suffer in silence.

Steve gave him a long, considering look, then asked, “Jim? Natasha?”

“I don’t care,” Tony said, pawing at the edge of the blankets to pull them back. “I think Natasha’s on guard duty tonight, though.”

“You’re probably right. Okay, then, budge up,” Steve ordered, and then, when Tony just sort of sagged in defeat, too tired to try anymore, he simply picked him up so he could pull the blankets back himself.

“Show off,” Tony accused without heat.

“If I waited for you, we wouldn’t have been able to get into bed for another hour,” Steve replied, smiling a little. He settled Tony down on his side, then slid onto the bed behind him, curling around him protectively. “Do you want the blankets up, or will I be too warm?”

Tony thought about it, eyelids drooping, and managed to say, “I’ve been getting cold,” before he started to drift off.

“Okay,” Steve answered softly, pulling the blankets up, and then let out a quiet sigh as he settled behind him.

“I’m sorry about Sharon, Steve,” Tony murmured, and was asleep before he could hear Steve quietly reply, “I’m sorry about Phil, Pepper, and Happy.”

.-.-.-.

They took back roughly six more miles of territory over the next year. Tony and Rhodey fixed up three cars. They got a security system rigged, too, with Vision and Wanda’s help. Luckily, it had only gone off for scheduled drills.

Then one day the klaxons went off.

Altogether, Tony figured he could be proud of everyone, because they took to their stations with only a few minutes of confusion. He figured now that they’d had the experience of the alarms going off because of an actual potential intruder, they’d be more prepared next time.

“What are we looking at?” he asked as he landed by Steve in the suit. Normally he kept it for dire circumstances, since he no longer had the means of fabricating parts, but he figured the show of strength would help put the rest of the camp at ease.

Steve paused, considering, then pointed at the gates. “A car.”

Tony turned to stare at him, flabbergasted. “…And zombies are driving cars now!?” he finally spluttered.

“The people in the car haven’t gotten out yet,” Steve explained with a shrug, shifting his grip on his shield the way he typically did when he was anxious and trying not to show it. “And until I get a showing of hands and a promise that they mean no harm, I’m not entirely inclined to let them in, you know?”

Tony turned back to the gate, staring at the van idling outside the gate with longing. He loved vans. He could fortify them so that they were basically tanks. But he could understand why Steve hadn’t given the order to open the gates yet—he could see a second van idling behind the first. That was a large group of people, if the vans were full, and they’d already had a few failed raids on their facility by desperate people looking for supplies.

“I want the vans,” Tony said quietly.

“I’ll try and get you the vans,” Steve replied, just as soft, before he took a deep breath and hefted his shield up. “I’m going to approach them. Close the gates after me,” he added to Wanda sharply.

Wanda looked uneasy, but she nodded just the same. She waited until he got to the gate, then lifted her hands to open them, just long enough that he could slip out, before she snapped them shut again, and they all waited with bated breath. “I can yank him back over the fence if it comes down to it,” she murmured. “Can’t promise I’ll be able to make it over the barbed wire first though.”

“He’ll heal,” Tony answered, and she nodded grimly.

They watched as Steve approached the front van. The passenger side door opened, and they saw someone’s feet hit the ground, but they were mostly hidden by the door. Steve stopped walking, shield coming up protectively. But then, suddenly, Steve was flinging the shield to the ground and sprinting toward the van.

Wanda’s hands came up instinctively, but Tony reached out to grab one of her wrists with a sharp, “Wait,” because the passenger was clearing the door and already lifting her arms to throw around Steve’s neck as he plowed into her. “It’s Sharon.” He felt his entire body sag in relief, tears filling his eyes. “It’s Sharon.”

“Tony I can’t hold you up Tony lock the joints Tony,” Wanda was exclaiming, but Tony continued to slowly lower himself to the ground.

Sharon had made it. She’d been in D.C. where the explosions had been and it had taken four years but she’d made it and she was here and she was alive. Maybe Phil was still alive. Maybe he could still have hope. Maybe. Maybe. Maybe.

.-.-.-.

The hope that Tony had gained when Sharon had arrived with her group of survivors began to wane again. It had been ten years since the attacks, and they’d taken back forty miles. Zombie sightings were few and far between these days, but there were enough of them that they still needed to be careful as they extended their borders. They’d even managed to make contact with other groups across the country with ham radios, and he was working on getting cell towers back up (he’d meant to do it earlier, but there had always been more important things to tend to, something else that came first). He’d begged anyone for information about Phil Coulson, or Virginia Potts, or Harold Hogan, but everyone had regretfully told him they hadn’t heard the names in camp.

If they weren’t in the camps, that meant they’d been victims in the attacks, or they’d started traveling as soon as it had happened. Ten years would have been plenty of time for people from the west coast to make it to them, and the fact that no one had come… he could figure it out.

On the bright side, he had more people to give him hugs about it now. Peter had been in the second van, and so had May, and Ned and his family, and MJ and hers. Peter had saved them, and then they’d holed up and he’d protected them single-handedly until he saw Sharon Carter and a few other SHIELD agents looting a bodega for anything salvageable, and begged her for help, and she’d taken charge immediately. His heart was heavy with all the people he’d lost, but at least the kid and his family had made it.

Tony was actually on his way to check on one of the alarms because it kept shorting out when he saw a car approaching the border. It was going very fast. It also did not appear to be stopping, despite the fact that it was headed directly toward the fence.

“We buried the posts deep on this side, didn’t we?” Natasha asked, coming up beside him, gun hanging at her side with the safety off.

“We always bury the posts deep,” Tony replied.

They continued to watch the car approaching.

“Will the fence hold if the car hits it, with how fast it’s going?” Natasha asked.

“We made sure to put the most defenses on the fence facing the road for specifically this reason,” Tony replied.

“That wasn’t a yes.”

“This car is going… very fast.”

Natasha grabbed his arm and dragged him out of the way, just in time for the car to bash through the fencing. He could see the front bumper had been modified into a battering ram now, and the rear bumper looked just about the same. He’d done the same to a few cars they’d had to go out and grab in the beginning, before they could extend their own territory. It was jerry-rigged for sure, but a decent short-term fix to get the car movable. Every door burst open at once, and Tony ducked behind Natasha as she lifted her gun.

“Why isn’t there an alarm going off?!” Happy barked, jerking himself out of the driver’s seat.

Tony gaped at him, stunned, and only barely managed to murmur, “I was just on my way to fix it…”

“Well, hurry up and get it done,” Happy snapped, and then stomped toward the fence to begin trying to pull the chain-link back together. Tony stared after him, speechless.

“He’s stressed,” Pepper said, appeasing.

“I don’t know why he was stressed, he had an entire goddamn arsenal in his trunk,” Phil retorted as he got out of the back seat, turning to help a little girl out behind him.

Tony stared at him. “Phil?”

Phil looked up from helping a woman out of the back seat as well. He looked exhausted, but still the corner of his mouth was quirking up. “We would have been here sooner, but I insisted that we had to stop in Tennessee,” he explained, putting the girl down so she could cling to the woman.

“I got to make a grenade launcher!” Harley shouted gleefully as he darted out of the other side of the car.

“Phil,” Tony said again, voice weak. It had been ten years and Phil still looked just as good.

But he’d already mourned Phil. Twice. With more little mournings in between whenever he had another realistic dream, where he and Phil were together again, and they were happy and then his alarm went off and Phil was gone again. What if this was just another dream, he couldn’t help but think. He’d never be lucky enough to have Phil, Happy, and Pepper come back into his life. Not toting Harley Keener and his family. He still woke up thinking Peter and May hadn’t made it, and sometimes seeing Sharon in the halls of the compound made him do a double-take.

Phil couldn’t be here, because Tony had already realized he was dead, and Phil just needed to realize that too.

“Oh boy,” Natasha said as Tony turned on his heel and walked away, mechanically moving each foot in front of the other.

.-.-.-.

There was a knock on his door. Tony didn’t look up from his clasped hands. He didn’t tell whoever it was to come in or go away. He was afraid that if he acknowledged the world around him that it would come falling down around his shoulders, and he’d wake up and realize he’d been dreaming all along, and he’d wake up all alone.

The fingers that laced through his hair weren’t the ones he’d been expecting, even though he’d tried really hard not to think about it.

“When Happy realized there was a bomb, he told me to put on the suit,” Pepper explained softly as she sat down beside him. “But we were in a crowded area, and all I could see were the terrified faces of everyone else trying to run away. So I kicked off my heels, took the briefcase, and ran toward the bomb. When I got close enough, I made the suit wrap around the bomb. The explosion destroyed the armor you’d made for me, but it contained the bomb.”

Tony couldn’t help the broken smile that curled his lips, tears welling up in his eyes. “How’s that crow taste?”

Pepper rolled her eyes fondly. “Yeah, yeah, I always said I would never need a suit.” She wrapped her arm around his shoulders and pulled him in against her side. Then she gently started stroking her fingers through his hair again. “Sorry we broke through your fence. I did try to tell Happy that you wouldn’t like it.”

“I thought you were dead,” Tony said, voice soft, still unable to look at her.

“We were gone an awfully long time. But we wouldn’t have made it without you, and the armor, and the weapons in the car,” Pepper replied, pressing a kiss to his forehead. Then she leaned back to give him a sharp look. “Wait, why did our car have a literal arsenal of weapons in the trunk?”

Tony shrugged. “Happy likes to be prepared.”

“Unbelievable,” Pepper whispered, but she didn’t actually sound upset. “I suppose it came in handy though. Phil found us at your place in Malibu as we were packing up to leave, and they both used it very efficiently as we made our way here. We had to stop a lot—a piece of the armor hit the car in the explosion—and one time the car broke down outside of Tennessee and Happy was adamant we weren’t leaving it behind. I think there’s even still some of the original ammo left, but I’m afraid to look.”

“Would you believe that when I was showing Happy, we both made the joke that it was enough to survive the… the zombie apocalypse,” Tony sniffled.

Pepper smiled. “Yeah, actually, I would. And I think we both know it wasn’t actually a joke. You wanted us to be prepared for something.”

“I didn’t think it would be zombies,” Tony said.

“But it was. So thank you, for looking out for us.” Pepper leaned in to press their foreheads together, finally forcing him to make eye contact with her. “And now, there’s a man outside, wanting to look out for you.”

Tony opened his mouth, then closed it again when she didn’t continue with an order, telling him to go to him. He frowned up at her, sniffling again, then lifted a hand to wipe his eyes. When he got to his feet, she held his elbow to steady him, and he didn’t realize he needed it until he staggered. Once he was steady, he took a deep breath, then went to the door.

Phil looked up when the door opened, and he managed a small smile. “Well. Hello there.”

“Hi,” Tony replied, feeling shy. The years had been long and not necessarily kind. He couldn’t help but worry that Phil might not want him anymore. Still, he also couldn’t help but reach out, putting one hand on Phil’s shoulder, as if to check he was really there.

Phil reached for him as well, one hand pressing against the small of his back. Then he used that hand to yank Tony in, making Tony yelp as he crashed into him. Phil didn’t let him do much more than that, leaning in to swallow whatever complaint Tony might have had, his free hand coming up to cradle the back of Tony’s head as he nipped his bottom lip before sucking on it gently. Tony mewled helplessly, sagging against him, hands coming up to cling to his shoulders because Phil was there, and alive, and he’d been traveling to him the entire time.

“Phil I can’t fucking believe you’d do this when I’m trapped in this fucking room with you,” Pepper thundered.

Phil broke away from Tony’s mouth just long enough to gasp, “Sorry,” before he bullied Tony backward a few steps so they could clear the doorway, apparently not as deterred by her anger as she would have liked.

“Unbelievable,” she muttered, storming past them, but she did pause in the doorway to give them one last look, a smile quirking the corner of her mouth up before she gently shut the door behind her.

“Phil,” Tony mewled as he was maneuvered toward his bed.

“Tony,” Phil whispered back, pulling him in for a tight hug. “I knew you’d be here. I knew you’d be okay.”

Tony just basked in the hug for a moment before the words caught up with him. He leaned back, unable to help the tears rolling down his cheeks. “You did?”

“You built your suit in a cave with a box of scraps while actively dying,” Phil scoffed. “Of course I did. After all, your first instinct in an emergency has always been to fix things.”

Tony’s breath stuttered as he stared up at him, and he choked out a broken, “Phil,” before the other man leaned in to kiss him again, gently easing him back down onto the bed.

“Natasha told me about how you’ve needed people to sleep with you to feel safe,” Phil whispered against his cheek. “I’d like that to be my job now, if you don’t mind.”

“Yeah,” Tony croaked, smiling wetly, and pressed his face into Phil’s chest so he couldn’t see how happy he was, if only to put off telling him how awful things had been without him.

.-.-.-.

Fifteen years after the explosions that started the zombie apocalypse all over the world, the Avengers territory finally extended to edge of New York City.

“About time you showed up,” Fury said as he rolled up to the gates with a blonde woman in tow. “Thought me and Carol were going to have to take care of the city by ourselves.” He nodded at Phil. “Agent Coulson. Good to see you’re still alive.”

Phil very casually put his hand on Tony’s hip and reeled him in against his side. “Director. Good to be alive. I’m never leaving a fifteen-mile radius of Tony ever again.”

Fury rolled his eye, but he didn’t look too surprised by it. “Show me what you’ve got,” he said instead, looking at Tony.

“I’ve got a lot,” Tony told him proudly, leaning against Phil more than he usually would and unashamed of it. “Walk with me. We’ll get this world fixed up in no time.”

[the-and-sign-anon]

Family Discussion

Pairing: Lucifer x archangel! sister! Reader, Chuck x archangel! daughter! Reader

Word count: 1,360

Masterlist

You had spent a great deal of time in the Men of Letters bunker after Amara was released. A tentative friendship had been formed with the Winchesters for your protection. There wasn’t much you remembered about your aunt, but you didn’t feel like risking your life to learn more; so the boys offered you a place with them. The last thing you expected them to come home with though, was your father.

You knew the boys had gone to some town in Iowa, but you paid little attention to exactly what they were doing. You were more focused on finding your brother after discovering Amara had him. Lucifer had his flaws, but he was the only family member you were sure to be on good terms with, so you didn’t want to lose him. After a few days of peace and quiet, you were finishing a book and bringing it back to the library when you noticed the boys at the war table.

“Sam, Dean. When did you get back?”

“A few minutes ago. Y/N, there’s something you should know.”

You didn’t like the tone in Sam’s voice. It usually meant something was about to make you very upset.

“Sam?”

“We finally found your dad.”

“Where.” You stood up straighter, an expression you knew the boys would consider hostile on your face.

Before the boys could answer, you heard footsteps behind you.

“Y/N. Sam and Dean said you were here. I’m glad you’re on good terms with them now.”

You couldn’t even turn to look at him. You just dropped your book on the table and disappeared to the Lebanon library to gather more books to read. You refused to come back no matter how much the boys prayed for you or tried to call your phone. You were sick of being upset by the boys, which you told them. You also promised that the only thing that could get you back to the bunker would be your brother.

You didn’t think the boys could actually do it. But sure enough, you got another prayer shortly after saying that Lucifer was safe and sound at the bunker waiting for you. So, begrudgingly, you came. You found yourself in the hall of the bunker, loud rock music coming from a door in front of you.

“Y/N, could you help us out here? He won’t leave my room.” Sam sounded like a frustrated parent and annoyed brother at the same time. Dean was clearly at the end of his rope too.

“Lucifer.” You didn’t shout; you knew he’d hear you. “Can you come out please? We both need to talk with our Father.”

“If dad has something to say to me, I’ll hear it from Him. Until then, I’ll be in my room.” The music turned up louder and the brothers sighed.

“It’s my room.”

“Boys, go talk to my Father. I will talk to my brother, try to get him out.”

Ten minutes later, you sat in a chair with Lucifer on your left and your Father on your right. The Winchesters stood in front of you all, trying to act as mediators.

“One of you is gonna have to go first. You know what?” Sam gestured to your brother with a hopeful look on his face. “Lucifer you agreed to have a sit down-”

“Only because of my dear sister. She is the only one I have any interest in talking to unless my Father wants to give me an apology.”

“Lucifer-” Your brother immediately cut you off.

“Y/N, when are you going to stop making excuses for Him? He locked us away! Not just me. You have been trapped for thousands of years because He couldn’t stand the fact that you wouldn’t turn your back on me.”

“I made my choices, Lucifer. I decided to follow you even though you were putting humanity in danger. Even though the Mark had made you something I didn’t recognize.”

“Okay, let’s take a second.” Sam stepped in again as your voices got louder.

“Okay let’s try ‘I feel’ statements.” Dean smiled proudly as he glanced at Sam. “Dr. Phil.”

“I am… sorry? that you feel that I betrayed you. That I acted without cause.”

You and Lucifer shook your heads.

“I’m sorry that you can’t see you gave me no choice.” He looked over to Sam and Dean, “I’m good.”

“You heard that, right?” Lucifer glanced at the Winchesters, but obviously meant his words for you. Sam opened his mouth to say something, but you spoke up.

“Father, please. You have to understand how what you did has affected us. Lucifer has every right to be upset and… honestly, so do I.” You were struggling with the words. The only time you’d actually argued with your Father, you ended up in the Cage.

“Keep talking Y/N.” Lucifer was quick to encourage you. The Winchesters sat back by the telescope, trying to stay out of it.

“I was obedient. I loved the humans, just as you asked me to. I saw their beauty, their potential. And there was nothing I loved more than Earth itself except for our family. When we locked Amara away, I tried to volunteer for the Mark because I knew it was dangerous and I didn’t want my brothers in danger. I told you it would hurt Lucifer and you chose him anyway.”

By now you were standing and pacing a bit. You couldn’t help it. Sam and Dean were trying to make themselves smaller, Lucifer was watching closely, and Chuck was staring down at the floor.

“And when the Mark did change him, you locked him up too. I could have watched over him. I could have saved him!” You took a deep breath and finished, quietly, “I could have saved my brother and instead I was trapped for thousands of years. I’ve lost everything, and there’s no fixing any of it now.”

You dropped back into your chair with your eyes shut tight. Lucifer reached out a hand, which you let him rest on your shoulder. The bunker was completely silent for nearly five minutes before anything happened. Chuck finally looked up, snapped his fingers, and the Winchesters disappeared.

“What would you have done, Lucifer?”

“It doesn’t matter.” The archangel glared at his Father. “You are our Father and you forsook us.”

“ I did. I was supposed to love all creation equally. I wasn’t supposed to have favorites. But you… You were mine. I gave you the Mark because I loved you the most, because I thought you were strong enough to bear it. And when I saw that I was wrong… When I watched my choice devour my most cherished son, I hated myself, and so I punished you. And when my precious daughter saw she was right, I was sure she would hate me too, and I couldn’t see her be disappointed. And I am so, so sorry.”

You couldn’t even open your mouth to say anything. You had no idea what you should say anyway. For the first time in your long, long life you truly spoke your mind. You had your brother back and you were finally face to face with your Father again, but it still hurt.

“I… I didn’t hate you for making a mistake. That was one of the things I loved most about humans; they would make mistakes and they would hurt each other or themselves, and in the end, they could always get better. I knew Lucifer could be better if I was with him, if I kept him from hurting anyone. All I wanted, Father; all I’ve ever wanted was for us to be a family. All of us.”

Lucifer did something then that none of you quite expected. He got up from his chair and he hugged you. You stood together then, glancing to Chuck. You waved him over, insisting on him joining the hug. You weren’t nearly out of the woods yet, you all knew that, but for now this would be enough. You had your brother back for good and, for now at least, you had your Father too.

[dramaticlester]

safety symptoms

summary: dnp get their vaccines and someone isn’t taking it very well.

also known as i got my vaccine irl and the only way i know how to handle it is to bring dnp into the situation and turn them into me.

genre: fluffy illness pls

warnings: vaccine/needle mentions, side effects of many varieties (pls help irl), swearing

Accepting the vaccine itself was a piece of cake. Dan and Phil both eagerly booked their places, the prospect of licking a stranger not a foreign thought to either of them. They went to the place, pinkie fingers linked between them in the back of the taxi, two masks pulled over each of their mouths (because they were for sure not taking those risks).

Having the vaccine was also a piece of cake. Dan and Phil split ways to go to their separate cubicles, giving each other a reassuring hand touch before going.

Phil was a bit better with needles, though he wouldn’t particularly choose to have one. He sat down, greeting the nurse with a kind smile and a bit of an icebreaker joke about sticking it in his eyeball (she didn’t laugh). Phil was so busy talking to her, he didn’t notice the needle even go into his arm, that’s how painless it was. Not even a prick.

“There you go, darling,” the nurse smiled, placing a little plaster over it. “Drink fluids and you’ll be just fine. Take a seat in the waiting room to make sure you’re okay to leave.”

“Thankyou!” Phil grinned, pulling his jacket on and wandering out into the waiting room where Dan was already sat, phone in hand as he took a picture of his little card to put on, presumably, his instagram story.

“Hey you, how are you feeling?” Phil asked, sitting beside him, rubbing a discrete hand over his back.

“Fine, I accidentally tensed my arm when she put the needle in, but it wasn’t too bad.”

“I’m proud of you, just one more to go...”

Later that night, Phil’s arm started to tingle accompanied by a mind splitting headache.

“Fuck,” Phil muttered, standing up off the couch to find his way to where Dan was working away in the office.

“Hey, bub..” Dan said, concern already etched on his face. Phil didn’t deserve him.

“Dan, I don’t feel well,” Phil pouted, leaning into Dan’s cool touch on his forehead.

“At least we know your immune systems working,” Dan said sadly, linking his fingers with Phil’s. “Let’s get you to bed.”

Phil climbed into bed, accepting the water and paracetamol being passed to him. He then fell asleep to Dan’s fingers threading through his hair.

Phil’s sleep was fitful, whimpering constantly and absolutely scorching dan every time his arm brushed over his bare stomach. Dan sat awake, trying to make sure Phil didn’t accidentally hurt himself, his brow creased in worry. Dan could not stand seeing Phil poorly. Dan decided to read up a bit more about the vaccine side effects on the little sheet they’d been given, thankful to see the things Phil were feeling were common as opposed to drop everything and run to A&E.

As slowly as he could, Dan removed the covers off Phil’s boiling body, next attempting to take off the jumper and two t-shirts he had on, too. That was less successful, with Phil waking up in a full blown shiver, his eyes wide and frightful.

“What are you doing?” he demanded, scowling as he bounded himself back up in clothes and blankets. “It’s fucking freezing.”

“Phil, you have a temperature, love,” Dan replied calmly, wracking his brain for ways he could cool him down. “Your body is too hot.”

“Nuh uh,” Phil refused, pushing his socked foot against Dan’s leg. “You’re warm.”

“I’ll let you keep the blankets now, but in the morning we’re sitting out on the balcony, I don’t care if it’s freezing and/or raining,” Dan warned, settling back down, allowing Phil to crowd into his arms, nose tucked under Dan’s chin.

“Whatever you say.”

Luckily, it wasn’t raining outside as Dan insisted on pushing Phil out onto the balcony under the strict rule that he needed to cool down. Phil felt like literal death. The pain in his arm had made it hard for him to even move to get up, his head hurt so bad he swears he could see double, his stomach hurt, and he felt like he could sleep for 50 days without waking up. Dan, the little shit, only had a sore arm, that he managed to get rid of with one dose of painkiller.

“Just think of how much worse it would be if you got actual corona, if this is how you’re reacting to the vaccine,” Dan whispered (he’d taken the courtesy to whisper as Phil flinched at the low sound of the microwave beeping.)

Dan and Phil were sat on one of the loungers on the balcony, the same one, mind you, as Phil was set on cuddling the fuck out of Dan at the moment. Dan was at the back of the lounge chair, with Phil in between his legs, back to chest. Their hands were joined against Phil’s stomach, Dan pretending to not be alarmed at the sheer heat radiating from it.

“I know,” Phil grumbled, pushing further back against Dan. “It’ll pass, but I wish it would pass faster.”

They sat in silence for a long time, Phil snoozing and Dan pressing kisses to his head and resting his cheek gently against it. He felt so bad, bad that he came out with a sore arm whilst Phil was so sick. He looked peaky and disheveled, his hair sticking up in all directions from the way his body had been turning all night long, not that he didn’t still look beautiful (he did). Dan knew he’d feel so much better when they were both fully vaccinated, his greatest fear of losing Phil being a bit less prominent in the face of coronavirus. Seeing the way Phil was reacting, he had never been so thankful they were taking the social distancing so seriously, lest he lost him.

After around an hour, Phil stirred, his groan hitting Dan straight in his heart, it jumping in his chest. The only times he really saw Phil so vulnerable was when he had a migraine, it was usually Dan moping about the place due to a cold or a small cut or bruise.

“Hi, darling,” Dan whispered as Phil sat up, turning to look at him. Phil leaned forward to kiss him, cupping Dan’s jaw with strong hands. Dan was surprised, but pulled Phil impossibly closer with two large hands on his waist.

“I can’t lift my arms high enough to go round your neck,” Phil pouted, whispering it against Dan’s lips.

Dan giggled, hoisting Phil up slightly by raising his legs, “there, you’re a bit closer now so you can do it.”

Phil smiled, kissing Dan again, this time his arms wrapped around his neck, hands clasped together behind his head. Dan felt Phil begin to move around in his lap, his excitement becoming clearer. Dan pulled away, almost lead back in again by the desperate groan Phil let out.

“Not today, darling,” Dan shook his head, giving him one last peck. “You’re not well enough and you have a fever, I don’t want to take advantage of that.”

“You’re too good for me,” Phil voiced aloud this time, wrapping his legs round Dan’s waist and giving him a cuddle. It was a bit of an awkward position considering they were both freakishly tall, but it was comfortable and familiar.

“I think the same thing about you every day.”

Later on, when the paracetamol had set in and Phil’s fever had been reduced enough to not be worrying Dan constantly, they moved back inside, though the heating stayed off and every blanket hidden from Phil’s sight. He was trembling like a leaf on the sofa, out of Dan’s embrace for the grand total of five minutes whilst Dan got him some soup because “have you ever seen a nurse just sit there cuddling the patients?” though it did get the response of “maybe if they looked like you,” with a pout in Dan’s direction.

Phil was grateful after eating the soup though, his tummy full, satisfied, and warmed (though he wouldn’t tell Dan that last one otherwise he’d chuck some ice in the next lot.)

Phil started feeling better over the next few days, his symptoms dwindling down to just a minor headache and pain in his arm, but he knew it was all so so worth it. and he also wasn’t one to say no to boatloads of cuddles and warming (don’t tell Dan) soup. He felt one step closer to normality and five steps closer to his Dan.

End

hello everyone! i had my vaccine three days ago and my arm hurts and my head burns. the day after was kind of like being a lead in the walking dead though (and i did a 9 hour shift and just cried the whole way through) so i’m glad about the dwindling pain. it’ll be so so worth it though, when we can do things again! remember to get your vaccine if you receive your invite and save some lives, woo! also, this hasn’t been proofread as of yet, i just wanted to make myself feel better.

[knightley--phillip]

Betrayal and Betrothal || Johnlip

At his brother’s wedding to Henry’s sister, Phillip gets some rather unexpected and unwanted news...

takes place: Late April

@captain--john but also small cameo from @charmed-henry

Phillip Knightley This was not the first Order wedding where Phillip was in the party, but by god he hoped it would be the last.

Actually, he knew that would not happen. He knew that when John and Thomas both got married (because they would get married, because they were good little Order boys who listened to their families — and who were also the only sons in their lines and therefore did not have as much leeway as Phillip himself with his three older brothers), he would be standing proudly at their sides, lifting his glass up to give a silly speech. He hoped that process might be all the more enjoyable, because by god Paul was obnoxious.

“Ah, there you are Phillip.”

Before Phillip could grab another drink at the bar, his father waved him over. His father, who was sitting now with John’s father and John’s family in general. Phillip met John’s eyes, giving him a bit of an Oh God what have they planned now look and was reminded of the one summer their families thought it would be character building to chuck Phil, John, and Tom in the middle of the woods with a tent and not much else. They were eight at the time.

“Hello Father,” he said, bowing his head. “Mr. Smith, John, Georgiana.”

“Sit, sit, Phillip. We have some exciting news for you.”

Oh God thought Phillip with a groan, but he smiled and grabbed a chair.

John Smith John hadn't been there for the entire conversation. He'd been conversing with the other families, chatting up certain families with single daughters as his mother and father would have wanted for him. He and his father had barely spoken a word since he'd gotten to the wedding other than a passing pleasantry. John did get a bit of a kick out of seeing Phillip up there all formal and serious after they'd been living together in Swynlake for a year and Phillip was anything but.

Regardless, he saw that his father and Mr. Knightley were having some sort of conversation, which usually meant something about the Order and he felt that he should go and see if he could be of service.

"Well, I think we've come up with the best idea yet. We can only become stronger from this. Don't you think, Georgiana?" His father Francis Smith looked over to his sister and she just smiled in her polite sort of way and put on a face that John knew all too well. She was serving the Order in some fashion.

"Oh yes, Father. I think it's quite inspired." John resisted the urge to roll his eyes. She always had been the favorite no matter how hard he'd tried.

"What's so inspiring if I may ask?" He made himself known, and sat himself near the men at the head of the table.

John's mother looked at him (it was warmer than the look he got from his father and not as mocking as the amused expression he got from Georgiana), "Well, John, it's not exactly polite of you to eavesdrop, however, I think we should wait until all parties are present to make an announcement. It's their future, after all."

The blonde took his seat brow furrowed, trying to parse out what they were talking about. Who was the other party? Was there something happening between their families? It wasn't as if Phil had a sibling John could marry so it couldn't be that. He looked over to his best mate and then the two partriarchs. And then it clicked into place. Oh God no.

Phillip Knightley Phillip, meanwhile, had not the slightest idea what Mr. Smith could mean. He was itching to get back to the party — hey, it might be a stuffy wedding, but at least there was alcohol, right? He had almost zoned out of the conversation, nodding along with whatever the hell his father was saying.

“Phillip, I think you’ll be quite pleased with this match — “

Oh? Was John getting married? Perhaps to one of Phillip’s many cousins? Well, that sucked for John, but he knew it would be a weight off his mate’s shoulders —

“-- Georgiana is a wonderful young lady. She reminds me of Ingrid — remember how much you fancied Ingrid?”

Why was his father comparing Georgiana to Ingrid? Phillip raised an eyebrow, looking from his father to John, then to Georgiana, who fluttered her eyelashes at him and —

“Wait — “

“So it’s settled then, yes?” Hubert Knightley clapped Phillip on the back of the shoulder. “The Smith and Knightley families will be joined at last when Phillip and Georgiana wed next spring!”

“Sorry what.”

“Phillip, darling, don’t make your father repeat himself.” This was his mother, waltzing over and reaching to touch Phillip on the cheek. “We’ve all agreed this is the best match! It takes a weight off your shoulders, certainly. I know how stressful it’s been seeing your brothers successfully marry off. And you and John will be brothers!”

John Smith It was all unfolding before him. He could see the players all making their moves and he could do nothing about it. Phillip got that certain glazed look. One would mistake it for him concentrating on something or being drunk but really he'd tuned out whoever was talking and was drifting.

Georgiana practically preened under the compliments and praise, "Well, seeing as John hasn't decided on a match yet, why not let the second oldest have a chance?" It was a backhanded shot at him. The thing about Georgiana was that she new how to perform for his parents even better than he did. She said everything right, and did everything right. It was a pity she'd been born a girl or she'd be a prime member of the Order. But deep down, John knew marrying Phillip made her skin prickle. It was far worse than any random match as they had themselves quite a history of conflict. But she still performed her duties as a dutiful daughter without faltering at the table.

"Right, brothers." John looked over to Phillip, his expression neither happy nor sad because there was an anger boiling deep inside him that he had to freeze before he made a scene. But when he thought about all he knew about Phillip and then Phillip with his sisters, it burned. It wasn't that John didn't love Phillip, certainly he thought of him already as a brother. But the thought of Georgiana matched into marrying him--well, that was unacceptable.

"John, the least you could do is congratulate the lucky couple. Georgiana is making up for a great deal of your shortcomings in the social arenas." Francis Smith stated, quirking a brow at his son. John prickled further. He was used to his father not approving of him and being disappointed, but for him to blame this match on him, because John hadn't married yet, that was almost too much, even for him.

He took in a breath, though he didn't look mad, his eyes were icy when they landed on his mate. "Congratulations."

Phillip Knightley Oh come the fuck on.

Now John's face was perfectly poised and polite, but Phillip knew him. He knew that look in John's eyes, where the sky blue shifted from clear skies to the iciness before a winter storm.

Do you think I'm happy with this? He wanted to yell at John, but his mum was grasping his arm and cooing over Georgiana, so he just offered John a small, strained smile.

"Well, we certainly make a beautiful pair, don't we?" Phillip winked at Georgiana, trying to make the best of this situation. Truth was, it made him feel a little queasy since he'd never wanted to even think of John's little sister in this way. But she was pretty and from what Phillip knew of her, this was probably about duty and honor so maybe she wasn't expecting him to be in love with her.

He flicked his eyes to John again.

"Wow welcome to the family, Johnny boy!"

He has to play the fool here, for if Phillip thought about this for more than a passing second he'd feel crushed by the chokehold his family had around him. His mother's grip on his shoulder grew tighter, her nails curling around his suit jacket like they were the talons of a great beast.

"I'm so happy to welcome another daughter into our home."

John Smith It didn't matter that it wasn't Phillip's fault. Phillip was just the only person he could turn his gaze to which wouldn't get him immediately in trouble with his family. He had to keep his composed appearance, especially at a gathering like this.

Unfortunately, Georgiana knew how to press her brother's buttons and stood up to cross over towards Phillip and his mother, "Yes, we certainly do, Phillip." She reached to gently touch Phillip on his other shoulder as turned to Phil's mother and smiled warmly at her, "Oh yes, it'll be lovely to have so many more men to call my brother and another set of influential and prestigious parents, of course."

John was splintering inside. This was his fault. His little sister was to be married off because he hadn't lived up to expectations. "It'll be quite the merging of families."

"Wait who's merging?" John's youngest sister, Elizabeth, popped out from the dance floor where she was undoubtedly flirting with every available suitor and committing to none, wide smile on her face, "Not you Johnny, of course." He gave her a look but it was hard for him to channel the same intensity he gave Phil. She was his baby sister after all. "But has someone finally wrangled Phillip Knightley?"

"It's truly wonderful, Elizabeth. Georgiana and Phillip are to be married. A perfect match, I'd say. Look at the two of them. They'll look lovely for their photos." John's mother gushed over the pair with an excited smile.

John just really wanted to punch something.

Henry Charming Henry glanced at this exchange from across the room and thought awww how nice.

Phillip Knightley Phillip wanted to scream. He hated himself for wanting to scream. He did not even know why he wanted to scream -- hadn't he known this was his fate? Hadn't this loomed over him like the sword of Damocles? Wasn't this actually preferable, because Georgiana would harbor no illusions that he loved her, because he'd be part of John's family, because all he'd really need to do was become a glorified sperm donor?

It all made him sick.

But he smiled anyway, looking warmly at Georgiana. If Phillip Knightley was anything, it was a good actor -- always putting on a show, a performance, live, seven days a week, 24 hours a day!

"Well, we need a toast, don't we!" said Phillip. "John -- let's head ask the waiters and see if we can't get a round of champagne over here."

Without waiting for an answer, he wriggled himself out of his mother and Georgiana's grasp and swung an arm around John, ushering him towards the kitchens.

John Smith John tried to not show how irritated he was right now. He fought the setting of his jaw, the twitch in his eye, the unabashed contempt and glare also trying to come from his eyes. But Georgiana always knew when he was on the brink of exploding and being that she liked to play up how devoted she was to the Order, she knew just how to press his buttons. As soon as her hand touched Phillip, John's hand clenched the napkin on the table.

Phillip had however taken note of John's growing ire and gave him an out. He stood up quickly, "Right. A toast to the lovely couple."

He was ushered towards the kitchens and as soon as the rounded the corner out of sight of the table and most of the wedding, John grabbed the nearest object, which happened to be a decorative vase and slammed it against the wall, shattering it, pieces flying and scattering along the wall. They wouldn't miss it. It was just a prop to fill out an alcove.

"I--" He couldn't form sentences, all he saw was red. "You--" His normally icy glare of contempt was aflame with rage. He grit his teeth, "Phillip."

Phillip Knightley The shattered ceramic nearly hit the side of his face, but Phillip remained rooted on the spot. He look at John, his own eyes narrowed, his jaw clenched. He felt his heart clench, almost like it was choking him --

It was one thing that he was trapped in this arrangement. It was another that John was mad at him.

"Do you honestly think I want this, mate?" Phillip threw his hands in the air. "They sprung this on me the same as they sprung it on you -- " His voice started to shake, which made him flustered and he tore his eyes away from John. "-- we're all just their fucking chess pieces in whatever bloody high society Order marriage game they're playing, you know this. I have just as much say in this as you do."

John Smith John didn't want to listen to Phillip's explanations or excuses or reasons. He was just well pissed off. Completely filled with contempt and rage at his family. At how they'd made him look in front of Phil's family as well. But he heard bits and pieces of Phillip's words all the same.

He clenched his jaw, his hand this time the next thing to slam against the wall, but he wasn't an idiot, he didn't punch it and break his fingers or something ridiculous like that. He just pounded on the wall one last time before he spun around to Phillip, "I cannot fucking believe them. Did you see my father's bloody face? So god damn proud of Georgiana like she'd had some hand in this and she played right along!" He threw his hands up in the air, "She doesn't want to marry you, Phillip! She's disliked you since childhood and thought she was better than Thomas as well. But somehow I get to be made look like the fucking laughing stock of the family because ole Johnny can't find himself a girl to marry so why not let his younger sister show him how it's done." He let out noise of exasperation, "It's bloody demoralizing."

He heard footsteps coming down the hallway and he immediately snapped back to himself, smoothing his hair back and straightening himself out to give a small smile to the woman passing by before sighing, "Philly boy." He stepped forward and tugged at the lapels of his mate's jacket. "I'm not mad at you, okay? I just--I wish I could say I cannot believe they've gone and done this, but I can't. I should've seen it coming. I should've been two steps ahead of this and figured out a way to head it off at the pass, but I didn't and now we've got this mess on top of all of our other issues concerning this clusterfuck of a mission."

Phillip Knightley I'm not mad at you

That was the only thing Phillip needed to hear. John said a whole host of other things, raging and fuming and hitting the wall. But that was the only one that mattered.

John grabbed Phil's jacket and Phillip felt something choke up in his throat. He wanted to say something, but he couldn't say anything. He just looked at John's hand on his lapel and part of him wanted to catch John's fingers and give them a squeeze and tell him it was going to be okay and that they would figure this out and that if anyone was gonna figure this out it would be John --

He didn't do that, of course. He just flicked his eyes to John's steely blue gaze and he gave a single nod.

"If I do have to go through with this," he said. "I'll be good to her. I promise you that, Johnny."

John Smith John didn’t want to think about Phil going through with this. He didn’t want to think about how he’d have to deal with their wedding preparations and how he’d been a groomsman for this wedding and put on a happy face like everything was fine. He’d do it and he’d be good at it, but it would be like a 1,000 tiny paper cuts inside as he was once again reminded that he was a disappointment and his sister and best mate would have to pay for it.

John smoothed the lapels and then brushed at Phil’s shoulders before taking his arms firmly, “If there’s anything I can do about it, you won’t have to make good on that promise, Phil.” He looked towards the service area and sighed, “Let’s go do what we do best and blow smoke up our families asses on yet another wonderful life plan, shall we? Also I plan on getting completely obliterated in the process.” And with that he clapped his mate on the back and went on a search for that champagne they promised.

[hermits-that-craft]

I’m Not Good For Anyone Here - Vent Fic

AO3:https://archiveofourown.org/works/30401013 Warning: Angst without a happy ending, vent fic.

Walking home always sucks. Walking home in the rain, carrying important exam papers sucks even more. 

He hates this, when Techno and Wilbur decide to drive to study sessions after school. He knows that the pair of them would offer him a ride to the sessions, hell, he knows that the second it starts to rain where they are he’ll get a text asking if he’s gotten home alright. If he’s dry and warm.

He’s really sick of walking in the rain though. Especially while he’s holding the best exam result he’s even gotten. Every single paper over 70% correct, one paper even being a nineteen and a half out of twenty. He has to show Techno, Wilbur and Phil this. They might finally be proud of him. He studied so hard to get these marks.

His backpack is hunched under him, and his hoodie is held as a shield against the rain. He has earphones in, but he isn’t properly listening to the music. He’s watching how the street lights reflect in wet pavement, how fireplaces flicker in the fireplaces, only just visible from outside. The smell of sweet smoke as people burn apple wood to warm their homes. Someone cooks a chicken, and Tommy can smell it from outside.

He keeps his head down and continues walking. 

His house isn’t that far from where he stands, a short ten minute walk is all that's in between him and a cold, empty house. Phil doesn’t get off work until seven tonight, and Wilbur and Techno said that they’d bring home dinner at six. It’s ten to four now, and Tommy’s got two hours to fill in before his family gets home.

He makes the final stretch in silent contemplation, Sorry Boris playing as he unlocks the door. Tommy used to be so excited to get home, to have Phil waiting with a warm towel as he walks in the door wet. To have Techno and Wilbur laughing, but making sure that the bathroom’s set up for the young boy who went to play outside in the rain. He misses being a kid. Techno and Wilbur’s university might only be a few blocks away from his highschool, but it feels like the universe itself is stopping him from seeing them.

The house is cold, and Tommy doesn’t bother telling anyone that he’s home. He walks to the heater, pressing a few buttons before the vents in the house start to pump out warm air. Taking his shoes off in the hall, he lays them carefully near the vent, hoping that they’ll dry enough before tomorrow morning. Autumn is one of his favourite seasons, but he could go without the chill, without the rain.

He carefully lays his exams out on the kitchen table, praying to himself that they’ll dry. Unpacking his bag, Tommy looks out of the window. Droplets of water hit the window, rolling down them before landing gently on the ground. It’s gotten heavier, and the dull drumming on the roof makes Tommy yawn. Sleep’s siren call beckons him, but he wrangles himself from its arms as he walks up the stairs, removing his saturated hoodie as he collects his warmest clothes. It’s warm, too warm for Tommy’s mind to cope, and he sinks to the floor on the carpeted floor in his bedroom, softer than he’s ever noticed before. 

He’s not going to fall asleep, he’s just taking a short break. He doesn’t hear his phone buzzing on the kitchen table. He doesn’t hear the landline ring as someone tries to contact him. He doesn’t feel the sweat that drips down his forehead. He doesn’t feel the cold rain water soak the carpet underneath him. He doesn’t notice how none of the lights are on in his home. He doesn’t hear anything except the drumming of rain. He doesn’t see anything except the blue glow from outside. He doesn’t feel anything, except the warmth from the heater.

---

“He better be studyingI swear to god that child never answers his phone.” Wilbur grumbles as he pushes the door open with his elbow, carrying two bags off KFC that the twins bought for dinner. “He left the door unlocked, Tech!”

“He never does that?” Techno questions, carrying in their textbooks under several layers of outerwear. “At least we know he got home alright. Why did you turn off all the lights?”

“I didn’t turn off any of the lights, why the fuck would I do that?” Wilbur shoots back, turning on the kitchen light. 

The twins stare in shock at the state of the kitchen and dining rooms. Exam papers are laid carefully on the table, inky running to the point of it becoming illegible, and Tommy’s backpack and items are strewn across the kitchen in some kind of mad haze. Techno quirks an eyebrow, and Wilbur puts the food on the bench.

“Must have gotten shitty scores, I guess.” Techno says monotonously. “I’ll give him some of my desert. Should cheer him up.”

“I’ll also make sure to give him the ‘you're talented in non academic areas, I know you studied hard but don’t get up yourself about it.’ speech too.” Wilbur rolls his eyes. “We all know he didn’t study hard enough, though.”

“Oh definitely.” Techno agrees, leaning against the counter as Wilbur quickly tidies the kitchen. “He spent so much time on call with those other two - Tubbo and Ranboo, right? - that he probably brought them down with him.”

“I’ll make sure to mention that subtly in the speech.” Wilbur smiles. “Don’t want him to feel guilty about dragging other people down with him in the future, you know?”

“I’ll find Up, we can watch that as we eat, maybe that’ll cheer him up as well.” Techno considers, moving into the living room. Wilbur nods, and Techno watches his twin exit the kitchen, walking up the stairs to the bedrooms.

Techno pulls a few blankets out from the corner near the windows. After grabbing a few pillows, he puts the comforting items on one of the lounges. Techno walks out of the living room, grabbing a few chips from the bag before he goes to check the message bank for the landline.

He notices Tommy’s phone sitting on the bench, no charge left of it. Techno sighs, putting it onto the family charging station in the kitchen. At least now when Tommy walks home stubbornly, he won’t be able to ignore them. Really, why wouldn’t the teen just walk to Techno and Wilbur’s university? It’s only a few blocks away from his school.

“Tommy’s asleep.” Wilbur says, rolling his eyes. “Fell asleep on the floor.”

“Must’ve been a big tantrum then.” Techno offers, laughing under his breath. “Why didn’t he lock the door before he fell asleep?”

“Probably forgot. Teenagers, you know?” Wilbur smirks. “I’ll put his food into the microwave, lets watch something good tonight.”

“Murder documentries?”

“Unsolved murder documentries.”

---

Tommy didn’t wake up when Phil got home. He didn’t wake up when he was lifted into bed. He didn’t even stir when Phil came in to wish him good night. Tommy didn’t wake up when Wilbur came in at nine pm, nervously checking on the teen. He didn’t wake when Techno silently walked in, checking his pulse. He didn’t stir as Techno and Wilbur fight over Mario Kart, or when Phil shouts at them to just shut up, Tommy must be exhausted to have fallen asleep so early.

Tommy doesn’t wake when his alarm goes off at six thirty the next morning. He doesn’t wake as Wilbur and Techno drag themselves out of bed, getting ready for eight am classes. He doesn’t wake as Phil makes them all breakfast. He doesn’t wake as Wilbur shouts at him to get up, he’s going to make them all late. He doesn’t wake when Techno shouts at him.

He stirs when Phil comes into the room, but he doesn’t wake.

He stirs as Phil checks his temperature, but he doesn’t wake. He doesn’t wake when Wilbur comes in, nervously holding his phone, ready to call an ambulance. He doesn’t wake when Phil says that its just a fever, probably the flu. He doesn’t wake when Phil asks if they knew if Tommy walked in the rain yesterday. He doesn’t wake when the twins get yelled at for not immediately checking to see if Tommy was alright after Wilbur found him sleeping on the floor.

His eyes slowly blink open to arguing, but Tommy can’t hear anything. It’s like he’s being held underwater, the words muffled and the pressure like hands around his throat. Is he drowning? No, he can’t be. It’s too warm, too hot, for him to be drowning. Water is cold. If it’s falling form the sky its cold. If he’s drowning, it has to be cold. Why waste warm water on someone you want to drown?

“It looked like he just threw a tantrum, Phil! We thought he tired himself out and just fell asleep, we didn’t think he was sick!” Wilbur yells, and Tommy’s eyes darken. “He got a bad exam result, we thought he chucked a hissy fit and then went to sleep!”

“You still should have checked on him!” Phil shoots back, and Tommy nearly flinches. It’s too loud, his head feels like it’ll split in two.

“Wil did! We thought he would wake up soon after, that's why we didn’t move him! Oh, and you should expect a call from Schlatt and Eret, because Tommy distracted Tubbo and Ranboo while he was ‘studying’ for those exams he failed.” Techno joins in the arguing, and Tommy stares at his ceiling. His exam results were good, why would they say that Tommy got bad marks back.

Tommy groans, loud enough for the room to pause. The trio look at Tommy, wide eyes making him want to sink back under the warm water he was drowning in earlier. At least then the anger in their eyes won't be directed at him. Drowning was so much easier, so much warmer.

“Sh’up.” Tommy slurs. “G’way.”

“You’re sick, Toms.” Phil says, gently sitting down on the bed. “You need to eat, get some water into you. Then we’ll go.”

“No.” Tommy glares, pathetically, at Phil. “No’ungry. Go’ay.”

Phil sighs, standing and running a hand through Tommy’s hair. The man says something akin to a promise as he leaves the room, ushering Wilbur and Techno out with him. Tommy doesn’t hear it, doesn’t care to hear it. Not when he fully understands what Wilbur said. Not when neither Techno or Phil jumped to his defense. 

They really think that he failed his exams. That he’s the failure of their family. They think he didn’t study enough, that he dragged Ranboo and Tubbo down with him. They probably think that he’s ruined his friends lives by asking for their help on assignments. At least his friends don’t laugh at him when he doesn’t know the estimated date that Kythera blew up like Techno does, or talk about him behind his back when he doesn’t understand a question like Wilbur does. Did he not properly save his exams? He thought that they’d be proud of him, sure, the pair of them were all over 80% anyways, but getting himself over 70% made his teachers proud.

Tubbo, Ranboo, Purpled and Hannah were proud when he told them, and Eret sent him a text with ‘congrats’ written on it at lunch, after he picked up Ranboo. Schlatt had given him a pat on the back when he picked up Tubbo as well. Even Sam, Hannah’s dad, and Ponk, Purpled older brother, told him that he was doing well. He thought that Wilbur and Techno would be proud. That they’d finally see that he was trying. Why doesn’t any of them see that he’s trying? He’s trying to get better, to be better than that annoying adolescent that failed his classes and got into fights. He’s trying so damn hard, and the only people that notice are the ones who aren't related to him. Tommy’s spent so much time trying to love himself too, but maybe his family never loved himself in the first place. Just pitied him.

With those upsetting thoughts, Tommy lets himself drown again.

---

Phil comes back in, a plate toast in hand, to find Tommy staring at the ceiling, tears falling down his cheeks. Phil nearly drops the plate, worry crossing his features. The toast is gently placed on Tommy’s bedside table, balancing precariously on a stack of textbooks. Phil sits down next to Tommy, wiping the tears from his cheeks.

“Shh, it’s okay.” Phil soothes, trying to figure out why his youngest son is crying. “What's wrong, what hurts? We can get some pain killers, it’s alright.”

“I want to go home.” Tommy chokes out. “I don’t want to be here anymore, I want to go home.”

“You are home.” Phil insists, panic forming in his chest.

“I want to go home.” Tommy sobs, and Techno and Wilbur stand watch in the doorway, tears falling down their cheeks. “I want to go home, I want to go home. I don’t want to do this anymore. I can’t do this anymore. I wanna go home.”

Tommy’s head flops against his pillow, his pleas to leave no longer falling from his lips as he falls into a deep slumber. Wilbur wraps his arms around himself, his eyes wide and tear filled. Techno reaches towards Phil, silently asking for a hug. Phil wraps his eldest pair into a hug, trying to sooth them.

“It’s just a fever, right? He’s just delirious, he doesn’t know where he is.” Techno rambles, watching Tommy’s chest rise and fall. “This is normal. Normal Tommy symptoms of a cold.”

“But he’s already home. He’s already home.” Wilbur mumbles. “What does he mean by ‘I can’t do this anymore’. He isn’t- We can’t-”

“Wilbur-”

“Tommy won’t die. He isn’t depressed, right? He’s just delirious because of the fever, he’s going to be back and loud and happy and annoying and-”

“Wilbur, take a deep breath in.” Phil says, exaggerating his breathing. Wilbur copies, shakily. “And out.” Phil waits until his eldest finishes, smiling with false bravado. “Good job. Could you go and buy some cold and flu medicine with Techno now? Something that tastes nice if you can?”

A simple task, to pull the pair of them away from Tommy. To let them both calm down, but not force them to separate. It’s clear, from the way that Techno’s shoulders relax, and the way that Wilbur stands up straighter, that both of them are relieved by the small task. They flee the room, and Phil sinks into Tommy’s desk chair, holding onto his sons hand as he waits for the fever to break.

---

Tommy wakes, at least, he thinks he does. His head is filled with cotton, and his throat is filled with gravel and glass. He’s drowning in warmth, in blankets, and his hair is plastered to his head with sweat - or is it water?

Tommy doesn’t know. He doesn’t know what time of day it is, or why he feels so bad. He struggles to make his eyes focus on his alarm clock, partially hidden behind his textbooks, to make out the time on the glowing red digits. There’s a plate with cold toast on it, and some water with two white pills besides the water. Pain killers. There’s a note as well, but Tommy’s eyes wont focus properly. Everything is grainy, but the grains all move to wherever he’s focusing, so he can’t read anything.

He does know that he wakes up alone.

Tommy takes the medicine, cringing at the bitter taste, before standing up. He can’t be late for school, he needs to take notes. He can’t fail. His family might already think that he’s a failure, but Tommy won’t fail them again. Tommy takes one step forward, feeling proud of himself

Before he’s on the floor again, the world spinning before his eyes.

Oh well, that's what he gets for waking up in an empty house.

[innittowinit]

Let's just make some hot chocolate

Fic summary:

Niki finally gets a day off work at the Toy store and decides to spend it with her favourite boys!

You'll probably need some understanding of the au to get this fic tbh, it's mainly just an add on to 'abandoned amusement parks...' since it doesn't really affect the story much and i wanting to write it

aka soft drabble in the same world as the main fic

Word count: 2150

AO3

One under, one over, one under one over

Niki had finally been given time off work from the toy store and, much to the twins delight, she had decided to spend it with Wilbur and Techno. It had always been obvious that she felt more comfortable talking to Wilbur, he was a social butterfly, an absolute extrovert, and easily bounced off other people in conversations, Techno was very much the opposite. He was mostly silent, awkward and if he was being honest most days he’d prefer to just spend the day with his brothers than going to hang out with their friends, still though he understood his brother needed his social time and, as they came in a pair, Techno was always sure to tag along.

Sometimes Wil had days where he was exceedingly confident, where he had absolutely no problem going off on his own, while Techno seemed to be more consistent with who and where he would talk, Wilbur's levels of separation Anxiety tended more to fluctuate depending on how well he was doing mentally. Since the days where Wil was brave enough to do these things were so rare, every time they came up Techno would insist that he takes the time to hang out with his friends, even though it usually made him calm up and spend the day watching movies and answering questions with shrugs or nods.

That being said, days like that were good, it meant Wilbur was feeling good and Techno always knew he’d be up for spending time together when he got home, plus even though they were together so much of the time, Wil and Techno both had friends who weren’t so warm to the other, of course nobody hated anyone, Techno would never be friends with someone if they hated one of his brothers, but sometimes there just wasn’t any bond there and it was just awkward to have your brother tagging along. Wil had his bandmates, Techno had his hypixel group.

It had been on one of these days that Wilbur had met Niki, as Techno had been told, he had been going into the toyshop on his way home from band practice. Apparently this had been one of the weeks that Tommy had actually done his chores so he was picking up a disc for his music box, they were a niche little toy, and quite pricey considering how they were collectables. Nobody really minded getting them for him as a treat though, he always took such good care of them, Techno was willing to bet he’d lose his mind if he ever lost one of them. So, again, according to what Wilbur had told him, he had scanned all over the shelves for the disc Tommy wanted, Stal, but couldn’t find it, eventually giving in and asking the girl who was running the counter. Apparently she had made some small talk with him as she helped him out, and by some miracle they had arranged to play some farming game together that neither of them knew that well.

To Techno, who was unsociable at the best of times, this sounded flat out crazy, the fact that you could just arrange to spend time with someone you just met was a bit mind-boggling. Still though, he was glad it happened since had it not, he wouldn’t have Niki behind him right now, carefully braiding his hair.

Honestly, Niki was the sweetest person he’d ever met, Phil still being the leader of being the kindest as they were two very different categories, She’d met Wilbur when he was having a good day but not once had she tried to pry him away from Techno or convince them that it was just ‘all in their heads’ as they’d been told by countless other people (Techno always said that was a stupid thing to say because obviously anxiety was in their heads, that’s what a mental illness was.) Of course, she had been curious, asking a few questions about what it was like living like that but she was always respectful, backing off and changing the subject quickly if either of them showed any kind of discomfort.

She was sweet. She was sweet and nobody else braided his hair as well as she did.

Techno leant his head back into her hands a bit, very relaxed under the feeling of having his hair played with, and tried to zone back into the conversation a bit. He hadn’t even realised he was in his own head, just moments ago he’d been actively participating in the conversation.

“I get that it’s winter but Schlatt is insane! I have Christmas presents to save up for too! I can’t keep working overtime if he isn’t going to pay me for it” Sighing, Niki pulled a little ribbon out of her pocket, holding it ready since she was almost at the end of Techno’s long braid.

“Schlatt is….he’s a good guy deep down, we used to be friends, he can definitely be greedy though. Niki, you need to stand up to him or he’ll just carry on using you like this.” Wilbur hummed, placing a hand on her shoulder.

A grim smile passed over Niki’s face as she nodded, knowing that Wilbur would most likely continue to try to see the best in him until he saw for himself just how cruel he could be, nobody could blame him for that though, trying to see the best in people was a good attribute but even so, it was clear his opinion of the older boy was a little skewed due to their fond memories.

“You wanna get your mind off it? I doubt you want to spend your day off thinking about work” Techno glanced behind him, trying to direct his voice without seeming rude, giving a little smile and ‘thank you’ when he realised she had finished tying his hair, a pink ribbon and a pig themed hair tie closing it off at the end. “It’s so pretty”

“Your hair is really nice Techno!” A wide grin spread on her face as she crawled around to sit in front of him and pulled a few strands out around his face to frame it better “Once you learn how to do it, it’s over for everyone! Oh- Yeah! Taking my mind off of work would be nice”

Seemingly feeling a little excluded from this interaction, Wilbur scooted a little closer to Techno and rested his head on his brother’s shoulder, a small smile growing on his face when said brother pat his head a couple times to acknowledge his presence.

“It’s cold, if you guys don't mind going out to get some stuff, I’m really good at making hot chocolate” Sitting back up, Wilbur flashed a grin to them both, worming his way into a position where he could face them both.

“Yeah Wil’s Hot chocolate is elite”

Niki was left with a few seconds to make the decision before she jokingly rolled her eyes and hopped up, gesturing for them to do the same. Pulling on her boots and coat, she got ready to head out into the chilly weather.

Being the start of December, the coldness was really starting to etch away at the teens as they walked, none of them really bundled up well enough to be out right now, still though this was all for the goal of Wilbur making hot chocolate so it was definitely worth it.

Almost in unison, a sigh of relief waved over the friends when they finally made it to the small corner store, the artificial heating warming them up sufficiently.

“What’s on the list then Wil?” Niki smiled as she picked up a basket and started to lead them down the few grocery isles. A proud smile seemed to stretch on his face, absolutely ready to flex his superior hot chocolate making skills.

“We have some milk at home so I think we just need Chocolate, the Cadbury one it’s nicer, Cream and cinnamon”

“Cinnamon?” She had raised an eyebrow as she dropped the items into the basket, counting them out with her index finger

“It’s good! Especially with chocolate, and very christmassy” The brunette laughed as they strolled down to the snack section, dropping some of the crisps Techno liked into the basket since they had ran out as well as some marshmallows to put on top of the drinks “Don’t be so judgy Niki! I expected better from you, what snacks do you want?”

“Grab some blue m&m’s” She smiled, watching Wilbur chuck them into the basket along with some fizzy cherry sweets that he liked.

“I’ll pay if you want, Since you guys let me stay with you today!” Smile wide and kind, she placed the basket on the counter, ignoring Wilbur trying to insist they pay, it wasn’t uncommon that she made up something she needed to ‘repay’ them for to use as an excuse to pay for their things. Aside from the fact that they were her friends and she’d happily do it anyway, she was also very aware of the situation with their parents and, as the only one aside from Phil old enough to work, liked to help out where she could. At times it felt embarrassing to have your friend looking after you but Wil and Techno both knew she’d never judge them and this really was just her trying to make life easier for them.

Thanking both the cashier and Niki, Wilbur took the bags, wanting to help at least a little, before they started to trudge back through the bitter winter.

“Tommy and Phil should be home by now” Wilbur commented as they walked, Techno giving a little nod, Phil having taken Tommy to go play at Tubbo’s house.

“I bet they’ll be happy to hear you’re making drinks then, Tommy’ll probably be moody about not being with Tubbo anymore right”

Wilbur nodded along to what she said, smiling to himself as he realised just how well she knew them, she really had picked up on all their little habits hadn’t she?

Techno had been the one to open the door, fumbling with his key a little before sliding it in and twisting it open, the trio immediately getting crushed by a hug from Tommy.

“Missed you!” He laughed, sticking out his tongue before letting go so they could get inside properly “Where’d you go? What’s in the bag?”

Wilbur just shrugged, laughing when Tommy groaned and slouched off to the living room. This would definitely be better if it was a surprise.

With the coats and boots all discarded by the door, the three of them seemed to scamper to the kitchen. As expected, Wilbur took the lead, grabbing a pot and measuring out some milk, leading it to boil on the stove while he instructed Techno to chop up the chocolate and Niki to chop up the cinnamon. Once the milk had been boiled, the chopped up chocolate was added, until it was melted together with the milk. Next came the cream, Wilbur gently stirred it in, making sure everything was incorporated well before he took it off the heat and stirred in the cinnamon.

The pot was divided among five cups, each topped with a generous amount of whipped cream and marshmallows, Tommy also getting a strawberry on his since he liked to dip them in the cream, and Niki was sent to grab the two brothers in the living room.

The table had already been made, a cup at every seat, giving it a fancier feeling than necessary.

“It’s really good!” Tommy chirped up as he raised the cup to his mouth, fanning it afterwards since it was too hot.

“It’s hot but it’ll also burn you, careful” Phil chuckled as he passed Tommy a tissue.

Everything was still and everything was comfortable, Techno’s hair was out of his face and they all had nice hot drinks. It was nice

“Oh I almost forgot!” Niki got up and ran upstairs, rushing back down with the backpack she had arrived with “I brought presents! They aren’t wrapped but I hope you still like them”

First was Tommy, Niki handing him a red stuffed cow with little mushrooms on it’s back, who he immediately named Henry, Then was Phil, a striped green and white hat since the one he had was getting a little old Then Wilbur, a small but beautiful notebook, pages lined one way with staves and the other with lined paper, made especially for writing songs. Wilbur grinned and thanked her. Finally Techno, She handed him a crown, it was more of an inside joke about his ego but he loved it, putting it on straight away with a big grin.

Everyone was happy and warm, plus there was still some of Wilbur’s great hot chocolate to be drank!

[zrtranscripts]

Radio Abel, Season Eight

Part 2 of 5

~

PETER LYNNE: Hello, ci-ti – ! Ugh. No. No, I mean, there's no way I'm doing that. Sorry Phil, but when you go off field reporting in the prime minister's palace or whatever excuse Amelia is using to keep Zoe within snogging radius, you have to expect a few changes from the lucky bastard you've left behind. Once again, that's me.

[clears throat] I'm sure you've guessed from the sultry baritone, listeners, but there's a new Radio Abel voice in town. Yes, it's me, Peter Lynne, one of Abel's two current people in charge whilst Janine and friends are off on an important mission. I'll be bringing you the news from Abel and proving to a certain cynical and power mad prime minister that Maxine and I are not, in fact, “running that place into the ground.” Yes, I know. It's a change, but a little change can be a good thing! If you don't believe me, believe this song.

~

PETER LYNNE: So you might be asking, what is the all-new Radio Peter going to sound like? Well first, I'd like to answer a few of the questions that you've all been asking me in the mess hall, in the streets, and even once, to my complete surprise, in the loo. For the record, if you have any pressing inquiries, please send them in via ROFFLEnet instead. There's much less embarrassment that way. For you.

First, where on God's green earth is Janine? Well, the answer is I'm not completely sure, and even if I were, that's classified information. Is she okay? Of course she is. Nothing can stop that woman. I wouldn't believe otherwise and neither should you. Uh, but also, it's classified.

As are actually, uh, most of the questions you've been asking, uh, about V-type movements, and what in the blazes Prime Minister Amelia is up to with her fleet of commandeered fishing boats, and will eating mushrooms turn you into a V-type? Oh, uh, wait. No. Actually, the answer that last one is a definite no. Mushrooms are a healthy part of a post-apocalyptic diet. Uh, point is, I can't get back to you on most of the big questions, but I will answer the small ones, so send them along.

~

PETER LYNNE: So when I said you all could send me questions, I probably should have been a bit more specific about what I wanted. Oh, I'm glad you're enjoying yourselves, but I do not know how many roads a man must walk before you call him a man, how much wood a woodchuck chucks, or indeed how to solve a problem like Maria. I know it's frustrating to feel left in the dark. Listen, I'm flying a bit blind here, too. But there are non-classified things I can tell you about.

Oh, like - like Taco Tuesday! I'm happy to report that we should be able to bring that back soon. Although you-you really don't want to know what the secret ingredient is. Trust me on that one. Heavy is the head that wears the crown indeed. And actually, may I say, you would not believe how much work it takes to put those tacos together. There's all the-the trade negotiations for the... Well, let's call it “beef.” Then there's supply chain issues, refrigeration management, about 20 other things before it ever reaches the plate. I mean, no wonder Janine's emergency manual is thick enough to beat someone to death with. [sighs] Janine darling, wherever you are, this one's for you.

~

PETER LYNNE: So some of you have been asking about the Janine emergency manual I mentioned. [laughs] Well, what can I say? It's a very good manual. Extremely heavy, very good type setting, all things considered. Oh, and-and obviously great content, which I've definitely read. You know, maybe not-not thoroughly, uh, but did I mention how many pages there are? You know, even some of the footnotes have footnotes. Which makes them feetnotes, I suppose, or toenail-toenail notes?

So am I doing things by the book? I mean yes, absolutely. If when you say by the book, you mean in close proximity to it, which I am, and using as a reference when needed, more or less, when I can. Really, I like to think of myself as a big picture man, you know? Get the essence of the manual, the feel of it, the je ne sais quoi. I think that's all that anyone can realistically expect of me.

~

PETER LYNNE: A warm welcome to the new arrivals at Abel. We hope to make you feel at home as much as we can. We also ask for your patience as we sort out permanent bunks and move you out of the temporary housing area, which I understand some of you are now calling The Pit. Very catchy.

You know, the thing is, the one area where I do keep to the Janine manual is new admissions. Just seems safest to do what she said. [clears throat] The first stage is triage, where Maxine and her team double check for zombie bites and distribute the cure as needed, and where we inquire about any special housing needs you might have. No, that doesn't include a killer view of the front gates or closest to the bunker in case it all goes sideways.

Once triage is completed, we use a... what does it say here? "Distributed resource approach, and that is to determine the relative positioning and status of various individuals and their family groups. And our first priority is to build a security profile based on..." You know what? We're going to put this manual away for a bit and just go for a bit more of an unstructured approach. That'll all work out fine.

~

PETER LYNNE: Well, I've had some time to think about it and I stand by my decision. I'm putting the manual away. Though not so far that I can't get to it if I need to. I'm not a madman. Janine, if you're hearing this, I-I know what you'd say, and I'm sorry, but I need to put my own stamp on things, rise to the challenge, carve out a new destiny across the stars! Okay, that last one might have been a movie tagline, but you get my drift. And if that makes you cross, well, I suggest you come back here and tell me off properly.

No, really, I do. Come back soon. In the meantime, I'm going to create my own leadership style. I will be consulting a few business books that our fearless librarian has been able to scrounge up. You know, actually, it's fascinating the things people choose to carry with them as they're running from a horde of zombies, but I suppose we all have our priorities. No, I am confident that one of these tomes will be brilliant and Abel will be humming along at peak efficiency in no time. Here's to the future.

~

PETER LYNNE: So today we'll be looking at the first of our leadership books, guaranteed to turn anyone into a strong decisive leader, if you believe the jacket copy. It's called MANifesto - and that's with a capital M-A-N, naturally - The Gentleman's Guide to Evolutionary Leadership. Uh... I have a bad feeling about this one, but you never know. As they say, don't judge a book by the cave painting of men in suits on the cover.

Here we go. “In the beginning, there was only man, and man knew how to lead.” I-I assume they mean that in a broad sense, unless man was reproducing by dividing in half at the time. [clears throat] Sorry. “Ogg led Zogg to the watering hole. Zogg led Ogg to the best hunting grounds.” I mean, obviously neither Ogg nor Zogg led each other to a decent baby naming book. I mean, it could have been Agg or Tiberius or Caveman Five or something. [clears throat] Sorry. “Today though, our inner Ogg and Zogg are held back from our ability to lead, caged by a world that no longer values our natural male - "

Okay, I'm just going to stop right there. I get the drift, and it's complete rubbish. [sighs] I think Ogg and Zogg should probably lead each other right into the den of a saber-toothed tiger. Happy ending for everyone, if you ask me. Okay, on to the next book, but first... Oh, perfect. This is a song that makes me think of cave people.

~

PETER LYNNE: Leadership manual numero 2 can't possibly be worse than the last one, and to be fair, the title has some promise. The 50% Solution - All the Work, Half the Time. I do like the sound of this. Okay, so let's uh, flip through here a bit and uh... Ah, well yes, this looks perfect. “The 50% solution to a crisis. [clears throat] When trouble strikes, remember, maximize the work you get out of the people you have and minimize the number of people you have at work. Terminating a few people, when done well, can save you money whilst increasing productivity. Nothing motivates like fear.” Well, isn't that just lovely? It's heartwarming really, isn't it? “Don't be afraid to use personal knowledge to your advantage. Did John just buy a new house? Is Maureen taking care of an aging parent? They don't have time to look for new jobs, so work them to the bone.”

All right, okay, so this sounds like it was written by some kind of psychopath the likes of which brought on the zombie apocalypse. Wouldn't be surprised to find a foreward by Sigrid. They'd probably suggest I threw a few people to the zoms just to make everyone else pick up the pace. Absolutely not. Back in the pile with you. Ugh. Need a pallet cleanser after that one. How about a nice musical pick-me-up?

~

PETER LYNNE: So I think I've finally found a leadership book that is not by a psychopath, a misogynist, or a dog. No offense, but I have a firm policy never to take advice from canines. And it is fittingly called The Last Leadership Book You'll Ever Need. Let's hope so. Here we go. “To be a good leader, there's only one thing you need to know.” Well, this is very promising. “And that's the way to the nearest exit. That's right, you need to step down. Depose yourself, resign, leave the premises. The people you claim to be leading, they'll do just fine on their own.”

Well, that took a bit of a turn. I hope it wasn't written by one of you, listeners, because you are out of luck. Janine asked me to keep this seat warm for her, not burn this building down and dance around the flames, arms akimbo, chanting wildly. You know, it just doesn't seem like any of these books are worth the paper they're printed on. At least Sage's teachings made sense, you know, if you weren’t a mad killer or an anarchist. What he used to say was that everyone has a place, and you have to find your way to succeed, nobody else's. You know, maybe that's what I need now, actually. Something that's all me. You know, like this next song, one of my all-time favorites.

~

PETER LYNNE: So I know there are people out there who think Colonel Sage was a horrid person, and-and I'm certainly not going to quarrel about it on the air, but the things he believed in worked for a lot of people. And I know that some of them, some of you might be listening, so this is for you.

I know it's a bit of a scary time right now, not knowing what to do or who to trust or what happens next. There was something nice about the way Sage just sort of put everything in its proper place. It felt like you didn't have to do all the work yourself, and now you do. I actually always think that maybe it was always me, always you doing the work, it was just that Sage helped us figure out what the work was and why we should be doing it. We can use that now. You build on it.

I mean, look at me, heading things up at the Abel Township, trying to - trying to fill one tenth of the shoes of Janine and everyone else. Is it scary? Well, yes, it's absolutely petrifying. Why else do you think I'm looking for answers in just really, frankly the world's worst management books? But I'm figuring it out. If I can do it, so can you. Sage believed in all of us, you know, and whatever you think of him, that part was spot-on. So this song goes out to all the people like me who believed. We are going to be okay.

~

PETER LYNNE: If I'm going to come up with my own management style, I need a catchy name for it. Those books might have been rubbish, but they all sounded decent at the top. Mm... Peter's Principles? No, I think that already exists somewhere. Laws of the Peter-archy. Welcome to Pete-topia. [knock on door] Oh, thank God.

[door opens]

MAXINE MYERS: Peter, hi! Sorry to interrupt, but uh, you wanted me to stop by? I know I was supposed to come earlier, but between Sara and dealing with the new arrivals, I've barely had time to listen to the show.

PETER LYNNE: Oh no, it's okay. You're here now, and I've been fine in the meantime.

MAXINE MYERS: Good. Um, is there a reason you wanted me on the air? Updated medical advice, or something like that? Because uh, running the township is a pretty full-time job for me.

PETER LYNNE: Yes! I-I want to get some feedback on a few ideas I've been kicking around. For instance, how does the word Peter-archy sound to you?

MAXINE MYERS: Honestly? Yeah, like something you've just made up and should never, ever, ever say again.

PETER LYNNE: Well, I tried.

~

PETER LYNNE: So how are things going for you in the new old Abel Maxine?

MAXINE MYERS: I have my hands full, but I can't complain. And actually, looks like I got a few spare minutes now, so uh, I might as well bite. [laughs] What is the, um, Peter-ocracy?

PETER LYNNE: Oh! Oh, Peter-ocracy. I hadn't thought of that. Catchy. I like it.

MAXINE MYERS: But what is it, exactly? Wait, are you planning to overthrow Amelia and declare yourself Lord of Albion? [laughs]

PETER LYNE: [laughs] Uh, I would be great at that.

MAXINE MYERS: You've always been power-hungry. [laughs]

PETER LYNNE: Power mad. Can't stop taking on responsibility. It's like a disease with me, asking for more work and more heavy loads to be piled on my shoulders... [sighs] I miss Janine.

MAXINE MYERS: Oh, me too.

~

MAXINE MYERS: You still haven't explained this, uh, Peterism to me.

PETER LYNNE: Oh, Peterism! Oh yes, that's the best one yet. You-you are very good at this. If I was going to overthrow the government – which, of course, I'm not - I would make you my chief propaganda officer.

MAXINE MYERS: Thanks.

PETER LYNNE: Oh, and uh, to answer your question, Peterism - as I am now definitely calling it - is my leadership philosophy for running Abel whilst Janine's away.

MAXINE MYERS: And that means...?

PETER LYNNE: Oh. Uh, right. Yes, I should make that bit up, too. So if it's about me, then it's fun!. You know, injecting a little bit of levity into these gloomy times, new activities that get the whole of Abel involved.

MAXINE MYERS: That sounds like a good idea.

PETER LYNNE: Oh, uh... Oh, really? Okay. Um, well then, how about a... cooking competition? Our very own Bake Off, except instead of baking, it will be... stir fry. And you can help me judge it!

MAXINE MYERS: [laughs] I am not sure I -

PETER LYNNE: Next song!

~

MAXINE MYERS: Look, I am not exactly a gourmet.

PETER LYYNE: Nor are our residents.

MAXINE MYERS: You're not selling this to me.

PETER LYNNE: Think of it as a way to see people when you're not coming at them with a magnifying glass or a vial full of cure. But uh, okay, if cooking isn't your cup of tea, I have another idea. The first ever Abel talent competition!

MAXINE MYERS: I'm pretty sure it's not the first.

PETER LYNNE: Well, it's the first I've done, anyway.

MAXINE MYERS: You're serious?

PETER LYNNE: Absolutely! I'll tell you and the listeners more as soon as we get back from this song.

~

PETER LYNNE: Are you ready for a once-in-a-lifetime experience? Introducing the Abel Talent Spectacular! It will be a spectacle for the ages. Singing, dancing, coordinated mime! Listeners, if you have a talent, we want to see it. Maxine, any hidden skills you want to show off? I've heard you were quite the rebel in your day. Maybe you picked up a few unexpected skills? Fire juggling, sword swallowing, an on-key rendition of Bohemian Rhapsody?

MAXINE MYERS: Yeah, I think this is my cue to say thanks, but no thanks, and uh, head back to work and uh, corralling the world's most squirmy toddler.

PETER LYNNE: Oh, well, that could be a talent! No? Yes, she's gone. Hmm. Well, uh, next song, I think. One that makes me think of squirmy toddlers.

~

PETER LYNNE: I've been very impressed with both the talents and the recipes that you're all sending in on ROFFLEnet, but they raise a good question. What is my talent? I mean, we all know my talent with the whole can't be killed thing, but how do we translate that to the public? And then I had a brilliant idea. I could demonstrate my talent by letting you all, well... stab me! Not all at once, but a chosen few, one at a time.

And what better way to get out any frustrations you might be having with my leadership style than with a knife to the chest? [laughs] Better than a knife in the back, I always say. Will it hurt? Oh yes, quite a bit, but am I willing to do it for you? Of course. That's what Peterism is all about. Apparently. So sharpen your blades - uh, really, please do. It-it's much worse when they're dull, trust - and get ready to go... How would Sam put it? Uh, stabbity stab stab in my direction.

~

PETER LYNNE: And of course, I-I was never able to learn the French horn myself. It just isn't easy to fit in a backpack. [knock on door] Oh uh, hello?

[door opens]

MAXINE MYERS: Peter, it's Maxine.

PETER LYNNE: Ah! Well, hello! You couldn't stay away, right? Back to share your talents with the listeners? Bear with me. I always had a sense that you'd be very good at yodeling. No?

MAXINE MYERS: It's not that. It's, um... Are you really planning to have people stab you? Have you completely lost your mind?

PETER LYNNE: Well, it's not like I can't take it, you know that.

MAXINE MYERS: Number one, I, joint leader of Abel with you, am a doctor, which means I believe in doing no harm. Number two, do you really want to start suggesting that people use stabbing as a way to handle their problems? What if you're not available when they start walking around with knives, looking to take out their frustration on whoever crosses their path?

PETER LYNNE: You, uh... yes, might have a point.

~

MAXINE MYERS: I'm not trying to rain on your parade, Peter, and this whole focus on fun is great, but you're here to help get things done. Look, it's great to take over the radio show, but I do need your help. While you're planning cooking competitions and talent shows, what's happening to the day-to-day running of Abel? Weren't you supposed to be doing inventory?

PETER LYNNE: [laughs] Oh yes. You see, that's the thing. I realized midway through that I could do both things at the same time. To run the cooking competition well, we had to inventory our food supplies, and look into a few new potential partners, and not to mention refreshing some of the farming and gardening plots. And to run a talent contest, we need to take detailed accounts of everyone's skills and experience. Can you believe we've never done that before?

MAXINE MYERS: Is there method in your madness?

PETER LYNNE: Well, have you noticed intakes running more smoothly now?

MAXINE MYERS: Well, it does seem like people are getting processed faster.

PETER LYNNE: Yes. So did you know Angela Amina and Ray Kwan both used to work in logistics? I mean, you didn't, did you? Sure, it's not a talent contest talent, but it is a useful skill. You know, people aren't even calling it The Pit anymore.

~

[britishchick09]

help! livewatch

to kick off my beatleversary, we’re taking a look at my fellow beatle fan (aka my dad)’s fave movie from the lads... help! i’ve only seen 15 minutes of ‘a hard day’s night’ because it was a bit boring and ‘yellow submarine’ was fantastic, so i hope this falls right in between. let’s go get some help!

...why are we back to the end of return of the jedi?

sacrifice WHAT’S HAPPENING

OMG the sacrificial ring!!! :o

wait does ringo have it?

people: “ring ring ring ring!!!” john in ob-la-di-ob-da-da anthology: “a ring!”

and it goes right into ‘help!’ clever one lads ;)

the movie is in color yet this is in black and white like it’s on tv. coolio! :D

‘help’ is a bop! :D

you’d think the credits would play over them but nope :/

eyyy called it! :D

CALLED IT AGAIN!!!!!!

♫ won’t you pleeeeeease please

me!!! :D 

this guy keeps throwing darts on the screen and it’s so weird:

OMG lester like phil lester???? ;o

tribe chief: “we need to find the ring!” guy: “has nobody looked in the washbasin?” lol :D

so the guy is only finding the ring for himself and not the tribe?

cool they live at 221b! :D

lady: “still the same they was before they was!” grammar much?

pretty house! :D

JOHN YOU SNEAKY LIL BISH

he’s reading it in a hole how nice :)

george is using fake teeth to mow a lawn inside their house how epic :D

and paul is playing the organ! :D

ringo: “me finger’s stuck in the door” no rongles it’s “I HAVE THE DOOR IN ME FINGERS!!!!’

OMG RINGO SCREAM LET GO LADY!!!!!

also his hair is a hot mess

john: “that’s immature of you, son” says you

ringo thought the lady thought his fingie was a sandwhich lol :D

ooh light :o

NOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!! :o

ringo just fell off the bed lol :D

john sleeps in the hole lol :D

why does john have a phone in the hole lol

he’s calling george and paul who are in the other rooms WHY CAN’T YOU JUST TALK TO THEM

and all he did was say ‘hello’ JOHN YOU DORK

the guy pronounced beatle ‘bee-ah-tle’ lol :D

guy: “they all look the same!” me before a year ago today

yo like harrods the store? :o

they keep saying ‘shilling’ why

ooh title!

groovy!

ringo to john: “what was it that first attracted you to me?” WOAH LENNSTARR???? john: “you’re very polite aren’t you?” yes that’s true thanks for not making it sarcastic :)

OMG MAGNETS!!!

john: “ah HA HA!!!!” op there’s the sarcastic bish!

two lads walking 0.2 feet apart in a 2 BECAUSE THEY’RE NOT BI!!!!

why are ringo and john saying the same things at the same time chaotic lads!

john: “what’s the matter?” ringo: “oh there’s no matter. OW OW OWWW!!!!” i think there’s a matter....

‘65 beatle girls: *swoon!!*

also don’t tell the lady she sucked up the wrong hand...

WELL THAT ESCALATED FAST

george keeps going ‘oh ho ho ho!!!” and i love it :D

they’re playing ‘you’re gonna lose that girl!’ :D

and it goes from not as clear film audio to clear recording audio which is weird

cool shot! :D (and beatle girls probably thought this was so hot)

ringo cig WHY

they have to do it again WHY IT WAS PERFECT

awww ringo’s dancing a bit :)

OMG :o

john: “you naughty boy!” don’t say that plz why :/

OMG THIS GUY’S GONNA CHAINSHAW WINGO :(((((

lady: “please flee!!!” ringo: “ok” lol :D

indian music! (you think this is how george started liking it?)

they’re seeking enlightenment! :D

ringo: “does this ring mean anything from you?” british guy: “freemason?” senpai wants your number

george is asking everyone if the blood rushes to them lol :D

OMG SOMEONE’S KILLING EVERYONE

guy: “could you pick this up for me please?” *knocks the chef out rapunzel style* lol :D

awww the lady wants to save ringo!

lady: “that’s the sacred ring!” paul: “say no more!” lady: “i can say no more!” lol :D

awww ringo is john’s best friend :)

oh no they have until 5 until a new victim is closing! :o

why is there a ticket in the soup

ringo: “that’s a season ticket!” john: “i love me a good seasoning” *puts it back in his soup* lol :D

ringo: “i got it from this eastern bird... lady” ;)

ringo can’t take the ring off!

george *about his soup*: “there’s footprints in here!” wut

THINGS ESCALATE SO QUICKLY IN THIS MOVIE!!!!

jeweler: “some problems are matrimonial” john: “eh heh heh” ;)

john wtf

the ring can’t be cut and it’s breaking the tools like rapunzel’s hair! :o

john: “you’re a failure, aren’t you scientist?” shut up plz

scientist: “voltage, up, up!” paul: “up up up up!!!” awww :)

scientist: “made in america you see!” john: “this is english” lol :D

john: “how do you feel?” ringo: “i used to use me hands” john: “he used to use his hands” lol :D

OMG I REMEMBER SEEING THAT WHEN I WAS A BABY FAN!!!!!

paulie likes it ;)

oh no the lady has a gun!! :o

the ‘brain drain’!

beatle logic: sing a song back home ALTHOUGH THEY SHOULD PROBABLY BE TAKING CARE OF THIS SERIOUS RING PROBLEM????

it’s ‘you’ve got to hide your love away’ so that’s cool :D

she’s not impressed :/ (but i am!)

john said the lady had ‘filthy eastern ways’ SHUT UP JAWN >:(

the lady wants ringo to shrink his fingo! :o

wait what

ooh intermission! :D

this is so random lol :D

PART 2 WAS JUST A LADY WASHING SOMEONE WTF WHY

that was random af and very family guy!

ringo’s allergic to penicillin like my mom! :D

OMG THE BAD GUYS ARE ATTACKING!!!!!!

my fave show! :D

JOHN IS ATTACKING IN THE HOLE ATTACK IN THE HOLE!!!!!

aww finger guns! :D

ringo’s crying at his suit having red all over :(

WHY IS THIS FIGHT SO CHAOTIC

ringo: “how can i get the ring off with me hands held up?” lol :D

ringo has a voice crack when he said ‘look!” :D

JOHN GON KILL U!!!!

john’s ‘get out’ is so good omg :D

oh no the scientists really want the ring now! :o

they’re in the snow for ‘ticket to ride’!!! :D

me lol :D

what a giffable shot! :D

:D

ooh music notes! :D

penny lane much? ;)

oh no the guys are watching them... ;)

the lads are saying ‘oh ho ho ho’ WHAT HIGH DORKS

OMG RINGO!!!!!!

he says ‘ouch ouch ouch’ when rolling down the snow lol :D

*OH HO HOS INTENSIFY*

evil snowman... >:)

the bad guys have a curling bomb and one of them keeps saying everything he does lol :D

george: “hey it’s thingie! a fiendish thingie!!” lol :D

guy: “useless! what rubbish!” *THINGIE BLOWS UP A SECOND LATER* lol :D

snowman battle! :o

guy: “in the name of kindness, stop! stop!” the lads: *don’t stop*

HOLY FRICK THEY’RE BEING FLAMETHROWERED

paul running into john at the train station... ;)

ooh sherlock holmes reference!!!!!! :D

:)

ringo: “they have a different religion... i think” lol :D

the scotland guy is mimicking ringo and ringo’s not impressed lol :D

why are the bad guys playing indian music in the phone booth WE KNOW WHO YOU ARE

999 is 911! :D

OMG IT’S MY FAVE HELP SONG ‘I NEED YOU’!!!!! :D

wowza editing in person! :o

paperback writer much? ;)

:D

‘she’s a woman’ from past masters is playing on a walkie talkie! :D

the chief thinks it’s shocking and hates it lol

chief: “take this hastily scribbled note hastily!” lol :D

motorcycle go brrrr

guy: “they shall not pass!” gandolf who

‘the night before is playing!!!! :D

:D

what a cool shot!

‘she’s a woman’ interrupted it no!!!! :/

OMG TNT

good ‘night before’ is back! :D

the lip syncing was kinda off tho

the bad guys are in camoflage and it’s like we’re in ww1!

the song ends ON A BIG AF EXPLOSION WTF

OMG THEY’RE USING MACHINE GUNS THIS IS SERIOUSLY WW1 NOW TH  FRICK

i came here to watch beatles NOT THE WAR

oh no john fell! :o

ringo: “get up johnny! get up for me, baby!” lennstarr tho ;)

so many explosions I DID NOT SIGN UP FOR THIS

guy: “MISSED you naughty boys!!!” ...plz dont call them that :/

victory music is playing did the bad guys win???

wtf is going on THIS ISN’T THE GREAT WAR IT’S THE HELP! WAR

buckingham??? :0

i swear if john is in nothing but a sheet-

not your lockie’s palace ;)

ringo: “IT APPEARS i need one card. IT APPEARS i need to chuck one in” IT APPEARS that you need to emphasize that for some reason...

them playing cards is so domestic :)

ringo: “i don’t just use my drumstick for drummin’” paul: “well what else is it for?” ringo: “i use it!” OH GOD WHAT DO YOU MEAN BY THAT RONGLES

john: “we’re risking our lives for the most useless member!” is that fingo or ringo

ringo: “let that be an end to it, END TO IT” same ringo

omg the palace is haunted! :o

OMG QUEEN REFERENCE???

OMG SOMEONE’S SHOOTING

the guards are tripping over each other!

the scientists are the guards!!!! :o

they made time slow down! :o

someone sprayed that red paint and the lads yeeted out of there! :o

they’re in a bar DRINK DRINK DRINK EVERYBOOODY!!!!”

paul to ringo: “you’re a rat underneath aren’t you?” OHHHHH ROASTED!!!!!

paul used to wink at paul... mcharrison has sailed! :D

OMG TIGER ROAR WHAT

ringo’s alone with it no! :o

thanks for the clarification?

lady to ringo: “don’t move!” ringo to ‘a tiger’: “don’t move, that’s what she said!” lol :D

why is she whistling the 9th symphony

they’re all singing it to make the tiger calm and ringo’s like “ok!!”

A WHOLE CROWD IS SINGING IT WHAT

this is legit abbey road! :o

ooh bahamas!

i love how george is taking pics of everything :D

i didn’t think cameras sounded like static back then tho...

oh no THE CHIEF IS THERE TOO!!!!! :o

BOI WHY DID HE SLAP A GUY

no the scientist is there too! :o

prepare for the beatle bahamas battle lads...

idk what pc is but they all the soldiers all named that

ooh ‘another girl’! :D

i heard it was cold when the lads filmed the movie so rip to their arms :/

CAKE

so much purple! :o

hey john! :D

george: “let’s play a game it’s called peep peep peep peep-“ yup THEY SO INCREDIBLY HIIIGHHHH

THEY’RE SAYING ‘OH HO HO HO’ AGAIN WHY

the lady said ringo’s getting ‘disembowled’ and john’s like “keeps ye busy eh?” like the lil’ bish he is

ringo: “i don’t want to knock anyone’s religion but-” *runs away*

bike lads! :D

they keep saying ‘let’s go back and get ‘em!” yep they hiiiigh

a triumphant one of ‘i’m so happy to dance with you’ is playing!! :D

OMG ONE OF THE BAD GUYS IS SKYDIVING

wtf bro

paul’s explaining things cryptically and george is like ‘why tho’

:D

paul: “there’s the temple and that swimming pool and... i’m lost” lol :D

ringo: “read on” B)

OMG ISSA TRAP!!!!

george: “typical!” lol :D

WHAT DOES ‘KAILI’ MEAN

RINGO GO UNDER!!

omg he’s in the orange blanket! :o

ringo: “HEEEEELP!!! help me!!!” title drop roll credits! :D

dere he is! :D

i remember seeing that before i was a fan and thinking it wasn’t beatles lol

john: “he’s got a plan” paul: “a really famous plan!” john: “a plan superintendent...” superintendent: “you see i’ve got a plan!” ...i think he has a plan

:D

OMG ‘HARD DAY’S NIGHT’ IS PLAYING SO TRIUMPHANTLY

the plan is baseball?

#spon

smoooosh

everyone’s calling for ringo and george is beating his chest lol :D

THE SCIENTISTS GOT WINGO NOOOOOO

scientist: “dust in the generator. gets everywhere” and it’s rough & coarse too...

the lady is saving ringo!

the scientist doesn’t need the ring now that he has...’nobel prize juice’?”

they keep saying ‘eastern’ as the language.... :/

ringo: “i can’t swim!” lady: “what do you mean you can’t swim?” he means HE CAN’T SWIM LADY!!!!

oh no THE SACRIFICE!!!!

the sacrifice involves a horrible, inaccessible name... voldemort?

he’s free!!!! :D

ringo: “i don’t subscribe to your religion!” lol :D

‘help’ is playing again! :D

and the chief has the ring now... >:)

;D

...what does that have to do with anything tho

and with the trippy credits came the end of the movie! the only help i’ll be needing is why it was more weird than yellow sub but i had such a fun time with it (especially the snow scene and ‘i need you’)! what a great movie! :D