#but what did he think when Phil’s said hey I’m thinking of dying my hair blonde

[an-internet-introvert]

I need to know what Dan said when:

a) Phil told Dan he wanted to dye his hair blonde

b) Dan saw Blonde Phil

[insanitybl00m]

Tales From Under The Wisteria Tree

Chapter 10 - Curious Daughter

“Apa, Apa.” Purple eyes met emerald ones.

“Yes Tallulah?”

“The sun is up but you and papa are still asleep. Also there’s a pretty horse.”

Missa sat up and noticed Cielo laying down.

“Hey Cielo.”

A niegh.

“How are you doing?”

White. What would white be? Absence?

“Fine?”

“Are you talking to the horsey?”

“Sort of.”

“Cool! Hi horsey!”

“What are you doing here?”

Light purple. Pink. Hints of blue. Then sudden flashes of red.

“You uh… are concerned? There’s danger?”

Tallulah’s eyes widened.

A wave of light blue.

“Calm. No danger?”

A neigh.

“Ok so theres no danger but…”

“She thinks you could be in danger apa!”

Cielo seemed to agree with Tallulah. Missa looked at the little girl, she had taken off her bonnet and her curls were spilling out of the bun.

“I’m not in danger, Cielo.”

Cielo nodded towards Phil who was slowly blinking, squinting at the brightness. When Missa’s eyes met Phil's, his eyes lit up slightly. He moved just a tiny bit so Phil could see Cielo and Philza took that as an opportunity to wrap an arm around his waist and rest his head on his thigh.

“We’re fine Cielo.” Missa ran his hand through Phil’s hair.

Phil had no idea what was happening. He woke up and Missa was talking, and it was bright. Really bright. Missa moved when he noticed Phil was semi-conscious. And Phil laid on his lap, fully taking advantage of the excuse of sleep.

“Morning.” Phil murmured.

“We’re all safe, Cielo.”

“My apa is protected, Don’t worry, pretty horsey! I’ll protect him! I’m strong!”

“I’ve protected him…” Phil murmured and he felt Missa running a hand through his hair.

Cielo neighed and Phil stared at the unicorn. She was glaring at him.

“Tell ‘er I haven’t done anything wrong.”

“She can hear you.” She stared at him and Phil smirked at her. This was his Missa. Not Cielo’s. And Missa chose him and Tallulah.

Cielo neighed and then nudged Missa with her nose before leaving for the depths of the forest.

“Papa needs to wake up.” Tallulah said.

Missa looked down towards Phil. His blonde curls spilled out everywhere.

“He can sleep for a bit longer if you want me to braid your hair.”

“You’d do that! Really? Yes, please!” She sat down and let Missa twist her hair into two separate braids.

“Thank you apa! Now Papa Phil needs to wake up!” She shook Phil.

“I’m up, I’m up.” He stood up and stretched. “Eat breakfast and then we need to pack up the campsite.”

“Tia Niki packed food!” Tallulah raced to her bag and started pulling out bags of food.

“That’s great, me and Missa will pack up camp while you get breakfast ready.”

Tallulah busied herself with the food while Missa and Phil rolled up the bedrolls and essentially just cleaned up the area they had stayed in.

“Protein bread bites! Tia Niki says that all the travelers buy these! She says that they’re good because travelers can eat and walk!”

She gave a few to each of them and put the rest back in her bag.

“Tuck away your wings Tallulah.” Phil said as he pulled on his cloak.

“Boo.” She wrapped her shawl around her.

“All ready?” Missa asked.

“Should be.”

They made their way southwest along the trail.

“So apa, how did you meet Papa Phil?”

“Well, I was lost looking for directions and he was there. We talked and he joined me on my little adventure.”

Phil reached out and took Missa’s hand.

“Have you gone on a date?”

Phil started just making noises, there were no real words he was saying. Just pure shock.

So Missa responded. “Not officially, no.”

“Oh. Have you guys kissed though?”

Missa looked to Phil who was still just staring at Tallulah in shock.

“Yes.”

“At least give her context.” Phil covered his face with his hands.

“Fine. I was dying because I got tricked by a kelpie and your dad saved me. Then he kissed me when I started coughing up water.”

“You kissed me back! You—“ Missa covered his mouth so Tallulah wouldn’t hear anything but muffled noise.

“He’s just trying to justify himself. Don’t listen to him Tallulah.” She was suppressing her giggles.

“Papa, don’t you know you’re supposed to take someone out on a date before you kiss them?”

Phil pulled Missa’s hand off his mouth.

“He kissed me more.”

“It doesn’t matter papa! You need to be polite!”

“He literally started making out with me! How—“

“Phil, she's six.” Missa said, quickly covering Tallulah's ears.

“She’s heard worse from her Tio Tubbo.”

Tallulah pulled Missa’s hands off her ears. “You kissed Apa Missa before taking him on a date. That’s not good. The stories say—“

“You know what Tallulah, I will take Missa out on a date. Is that good? We’ll go out on a date the next time we are in a village.” Tallulah grinned.

Wait— What did Phil say? He’d take Missa out on a date?

“Apa Missa you wanna go on a date with Papa right?”

“Yes, I’m just concerned about what we’re gonna do with you sweetheart.”

“I’ll be quiet, zip!”

“We‘ll figure out those details later.” Phil said.

A small pause between the constant stream of questions before Tallulah started again.

“So Apa! Is this your first date? Papa hasn’t been on dates in a longggg time! Since before I was born!”

Hey. That was only partially true. It hadn’t been that long… but Phil kept that to himself.

“Actually it will be, I was considered a weirdo back in my kingdom.”

“Why? You’re so cool!”

Phil’s thoughts echoed that of Tallulahs, why was Missa considered an outcast?

“Well, I don’t really know why but when I was younger I adopted a kid. He’s just a bit older than you. Everyone assumed I had a child outside of wedlock and shunned me for it. When in reality I was just taking in a changeling. Like you Tallulah.”

Missa was perfect. How was Phil so lucky? A human who was determined to help those around him. Despite all the consequences he went through.

“Oh. Well if you haven’t dated anybody then papa was your first kiss. I’m sorry for you.”

“Hey you little gremlin! What’s that supposed to mean huh? You don’t appreciate my goodnight kisses?”

But as Phil thought about it. Was he really Missa’s first kiss? What. His poor brain was going in circles. Mainly it was the small part of him that desperately needed to show off Missa as his that was yelling so loudly.

Missa was his?

He accepted the date without question.

He kissed Phil.

So Missa was his?

Humans weren’t that possessive. Missa was Missa. Phil could accept that.

“Apa is Papa Phil a good kisser, you’re the tie breaker.”

“I am not answering that.”

“C’mon Missa, admit it, I’m an amazing kisser.” Phil leaned over and kissed Missa’s cheek.

“Not you too.”

“Hey, I’m just trying to win an argument here, I’m clearly a good kisser other–”

“Don’t you dare finish that sentence.” Phil felt a grin spread across his face.

“What sentence the one where I was talking about how you were so despe–”

“Tallulah, you’re right, he’s a terrible kisser.”

“Liar!” Phil and Tallulah said at once.

“Wh– oh. Tallulah you know that this was a silly lie right? I’m not trying to hurt you. I’m sorry.”

Oh. Missa was apologizing. For lying. Because he knew the smell would hurt Tallulah’s senses. Oh. Phil really needed to stop fawning over every small thing Missa did. But could you blame him when Missa was so considerate?

“It’s ok Apa! You just have bad opinions.”

“What? Just because I like your Papa?”

“No. Everyone likes papa. He’s the best.”

“Thank you Tallulah.” Phil said.

“How much farther, my feet hurt.” Tallulah complained.

“Not too much longer.”

“I can carry you for a bit if you want to rest your feet.” Missa offered.

“Yes please!” Missa picked her up and Phil grabbed her bag. Once Tallulah was comfortable with her head resting on Missa’s shoulder they continued down the path.

“Did she fall asleep?”

“I think so.” Missa whispered.

“The village isn’t too much further.”

Missa shifted Tallulah’s weight to his left arm and took Phil’s hand with his right.

“I’ve been to this village before, it’s not too far from the pixie fields but also farther south is Niki’s house.”

“So you know your way around then?”

“For the most part, there's an inn that way.” Phil pointed up a narrow road that seemed to lead to nowhere. Missa followed Phil and sure enough at the end of the road the sky seemed to open up and reveal an inn.

“Hello sirs. A room with two beds?” The innkeeper asked.

“That would be great, thank you.” Phil responded, pulling out his bag of coins.

“Your daughter is so cute, I hope you don’t mind me asking, how long have the two of you been married?”

“Oh uh–”

“Not too long.” Phil said.

“Well I wish you the best blessings then. Maybe you can ask for a blessing from the stars at the harvest festival tomorrow. Pray to the stars for safety and a great harvest for our crops.”

“Will do, thank you.”

“You’ll be in room eight. Here’s the keys.”

Phil took them, thanked the innkeeper and then they went to their room.

“We’ve been married for not too long huh?”

“Easier than explaining everything.” Phil set the bags down.

Missa carefully rested Tallulah on the bed.

“She’s going to have to wash her hair tomorrow anyway, we don’t have to worry about her hair.”

“Are we going to stay here for the festival?”

“Well I still have to take you out on that date.”

Missa’s face flushed red.

“You don’t have to.”

“No, I promised and I keep my promises. Besides, I'd love to go out on a date with you.” Phil sat down on the other bed and took his cloak off so that he could stretch out his wings.

“What is Tallulah going to do?”

“It’s a festival Missa, there’s going to be things for kids to do. We can just have fun and dance and do other festival things.”

“I’ve never actually enjoyed a festival, I was always just making sure nobody killed the king while he tormented the children.” Disgust dripped from Missa’s voice.

“I haven’t been to a good festival in years. So we’ll enjoy it together.” Missa smiled.

“That sounds nice.”

“Well we need rest then if we’re going to wrangle that one while she’s on a sugar high, she’s a menace.”

“You keep saying that but she’s been nothing but an angel.” Missa sat down and allowed Phil to pull him into a hug.

“She’s been a menace but you’re too good to admit that.” Phil kissed Missa. “How’s that for being a bad kisser?”

“You’re still hung up on that?”

“Well someone said that I wasn’t a good kisser and I would just like to prove them wrong.”

“You’re an idiot.” Missa whispered before giving in and kissing Phil again.

“No you’re an idiot.”

“You just hate admitting you’re wrong.”

“Even so, you keep proving me right.” Missa pulled Phil into another kiss. That way he couldn’t be annoying by saying anything else.

Phil melted into Missa’s arms as he was pulled into another kiss, this time it wasn’t out of desperation or just small kisses. It was just for them.

“You are a good kisser, ok.”

“I know I am.”

“Shut up, I’m going to sleep.” Missa rolled over.

“Missa, come back no—“

“I’m going to sleep.”

“I’m cold though.”

“And?” Missa rolled back over and faced a pouting Phil.

“I want cuddles.”

“You’re needy.” Missa said but he obliged and wrapped his arms around Phil. He rubbed his hands up and down his back, lightly touching the patches of feathers that spread from his shoulder blades.

“That feels nice.” Phil whispered.

“Hm? Want me to keep doing it?”

Phil nodded, pressing his face into Missa’s chest.

“Goodnight Querido.” Missa whispered as Phil’s breath slowed down until it remained steady. He kissed his head and—

“I know what that means…” Phil mumbled.

Missa smiled down at him, face still covered by blonde waves. “No you don’t sleepy-head.”

“Ok darling.”

“Goodnight Phil.”

“G’night Missa.”

[proudfreakmetarusonikku]

Can I get some writing of literally any of your primeboys aus, idc which one they’re all so good :D

sure why not! here’s one for the modern AU. tws for medical abuse, what’s effectively legal kidnapping, referenced manipulation, physical abuse, and a mention of police (with sam awesamdude)

dream smiled at him across from the glass, serene as always. even in bright orange prison overalls and with his hands cuffed in front of him, he sat like he owned the place. which he probably did, tommy supposed, but it’s not like that was doing him any good right now. “hello, toms.”

“don't fucking call me that.” tommy could feel his face turn red from embarrassment- fuck, he wished he could forget that time he'd been on those fucking sleepy meds that he'd been made to take so much when he was sent off with dream and he couldn’t even talk properly. apparently, he'd introduced himself as fucking toms to a cashier and dream hadn’t let him forget. “i'll kill you.”

“sure you will, buddy.” dream snorted. “i like your hair.”

“that’s a weird ass- oh, yeah.” tommy raised his hand to the pink streak through his hair, dyed through where the grey-white was at its worst. stress, apparently. had to be a fucking lot of it to age him to looking like an old man at sixteen. “techno did it to me. because he's a good brother. unlike you.”

“last i checked, he helped phil send you away. he's as much as fault as i am, really.” dream snorted. “hey, maybe when i get out, you can get a green streak, too? that way, we'll match instead.”

“you’re never- you’re never getting out of this shithole, dream,” tommy said, hating how his voice wavered. “you're not.”

“tommy, tommy, tommy. oh, tommy. do you really think any jury would convict me? face it, you don’t have the evidence. and i still technically have custody over you, so it’s not like i get a choice.”

“yeah, because you fuckin' manipulated the shit outta my dad!”

“still legal.” dream shrugged. “anyway, once that happens, i've been thinking about moving town, y’know? maybe we could go somewhere sunny- somewhere where no one knows our names! we could make a whole new life, y’know. and you couldn’t stop me, tommy. I’m not even breaking the law.”

tommy couldn’t breathe. he couldn’t he couldn’t he couldn’t not again he wasn’t having that again. the idea of being taken off his meds and being locked in his room and hit and hit and hit and hit was too much to bear. “sam. sam! sam, please!”

the police officer understood what tommy meant through his babbling, and gently placed a hand on his head, guiding him out the room like a frightened child. giving dream one last glance, tommy saw that the smile on his face, almost innocent, never faded.

[ilici]

a night to remember.

Summary: After a long 4 months of just bickering, they finally decide to meet up. (Second part to 'Pretty Little Lies')

NSFW MINORS DNI!!

Warnings: Choking, cockwarming, hair pulling.

Word Count: 2892

Dream had enough of the two bickering at each other, he finally slammed his desk with his hand, making the two come to a halt. “Will you two fucking shut the hell up?” He asked annoyed, and Y/N just scoffed while looking away from the screen. “You two have reached my breaking point.” He said, seeing George just look away and Y/N discord icon stop glowing green besides the few shuffling coming from her side. “All you two do now is just bicker, we get it you guys have sexual tension but for the love of God, please just shut the fuck up.” He begged, while George’s ears burned at the mention of sexual tension. Opening his mouth to speak, nothing came out as Y/N was the first to speak up, “If I buy a plane ticket to go and visit the UK will that help you?” She asked sarcastically, and Dream sighed in relief, “Yes! Yes it fucking would!” he said loudly, while Sapnap just listened in noting to himself that he saw George’s eyes light up at the thought of Y/N visiting him. “I was joking but sheesh fine, I will.” She mumbled, and George looked between the sleeping Dream icon, and the Coraline icon that belonged to Y/N.

“Do I not have a say in this?” George finally spoke up, and raised an eyebrow that disappeared behind his long hair. Sapnap now laughed dryly, “Don’t act as if you didn’t enjoy the idea of Y/N coming to you, you know damn well your eyes lit up at the mention of it.” He said, and George just shrunk down in defeat while Dream laughed at the boy’s reaction. “There I bought the plane ticket.” She said, and they heard a ding indicating someone had joined the call, “Why the fuck did I just get a message saying I bought a plane ticket to the UK?” Quackity asked, and Y/N laughed loudly, “It’s for me but I used your money since you owed me anyways.” She told him, while Quackity just stared at his screen in shock. “That’s it I’m leaving.” He said, leaving the call right afterwards. George was now silent, and playing with the strings on his hoodie, “How long will you be staying?” Sapnap asked, and Y/N hummed leaning closer to her mic, “About three months, I want to meet everyone else, not just George here.”

Nodding, Sapnap seemed satisfied with the answer, “Wear protection.” Dream said, and George snapped his gaze up looking back at the screen, “Shut up.” He muttered, embarrassed while Y/N just laughed to cover up the fact that she too was embarrassed. “Well, I leave for the UK in two days, I still have to find a place to stay.” She explained, and George rubbed his chin before he came to a decision in his head, “You can stay with me, I recently moved into an apartment that has two rooms, you can stay in there. Although I won’t be home until later when you arrive mainly because I’ll be recording a video with Tommy and Phil.” He told Y/N, and she just listened, “Alright, then that’s settled.” She said before she grew confused, “How will I get to the house?” She asked and George shrugged, “I could have Tommy and his dad pick you up when he comes to pick me up.” He said, and Y/N nodded even though no one could see her. 

“Sounds good to me.” She said, “Well I will arrive around 9 am, so.” She muttered, looking at her phone, “That’s perfect because Tommy said he’d be around at my apartment at 9:30, and the airport is only a 20 minute drive away.” He informed her, and she nodded, shooting Tommy a quick text and telling him to keep it under wraps since he was streaming. The other two in the call were silent, enjoying the time where George and Y/N weren’t arguing. “Well I better go, I need to go pack and I also need to fix my sleep schedule.” She sighed out, before saying her goodbye’s. Leaving the call, everything hit her like a brick. She was going to leave to see George in two days. Hearing her phone ring, she saw Sapnap was calling her, answering it she put it on speaker so she could hear him while she got ready to pack. “Hey Sap.” She said, and Sapnap greeted her back, “I was wondering if I could see your face before you leave to see George.” He asked, in a very rushed way which was difficult for Y/N to keep up with.

Laughing to herself, she shrugged as Sapnap was one of her best friends and she planned on face revealing to him anyway. Clicking the FaceTime option, she propped her phone up so he could see her packing. Sapnap answered it, only showing half of his face, before his eyes widened at Y/N. She changed a bit from what George had described four months prior, “Wow, George was right. You are hot.” He said, and Y/N laughed, “Although you look a bit different apparently.” He said trying to pinpoint what looked different on her, “Oh, my hair is longer and I also dyed the the underneath of my hair.” She told him, and he nodded noting that her hair did look different from what George said. “Are you nervous?” He asked her, trying to keep the conversation going and Y/N shrugged, “A bit, mainly because I feel like when we meet things will be awkward, and we will manage to argue.” She said, while Sapnap just nodded in understanding.

“Well, if you ask me, I think meeting Tommy is going to be worse, mainly because he get’s to see your face.” He told her, and Y/N grimaced at the thought of the loud child bragging about seeing her face. “Don’t remind me.” She grumbled, while Sapnap laughed at her reaction, “Well, that’s all I need to pack.” She said after a three hour long call with her friend. “I’ll see you later, sleep well.” Sapnap said, before ending the call leaving Y/N to her own thoughts. Shooting Dream a text, asking her for advice that she’d read when she woke up. Sighing, she laid down in bed looking up at her ceiling that seemed bare to her now ever since she took off the stars. “God why did I do this?” She muttered to herself, covering her eyes with her arm before drifting off to sleep.

Finally, it was the day she was leaving for the UK. She was at the airport with her two suitcases waiting to board the plane. She had coffee in her hand as it was super early for her, and she was on call with Callahan who didn’t speak back but would text responses in return. “Callahan, I board in seven minutes holy shit.” She said, starting to panic a little, and Callahan quickly tried to calm her down making some typos along the way. “Okay I can do this.” She whispered to herself, and Callahan sent a message telling her that she’d be alright and he’d be here for her when she landed. Callahan planned on staying on the call, even though he’d be left alone for some hours. Their plan was as soon as she lands, she’d join the call and let him know she had landed. Thankfully he’d be awake as he was busy coding stuff for the new manhunt. “Well that’s my plane, I’ll see you after I land.” She told him, and he sent a quick goodbye before she left the call.

Y/N got on the plane and decided she’d sleep the entire plane ride. She had thankfully gotten first class, so she had privacy. Reclining back, she put on the movie that seemed least interesting so she wouldn’t get engaged in it. Shortly falling asleep, she woke up a couple times and would restart the movie if it had ended. Finally, after what seemed like days she finally heard the voice saying they were landing. Stretching she groaned hearing her body crack, and got up when they officially landed. Walking out and going to get her luggage, she went to get something to eat and a drink She joined the call back to see that Karl was also in the call along with Dream. “Hey guys, I landed.” She spoke up, and she got a response from Callahan first, and Karl soon unmuted, “That’s good, I hope things go well.” He said, while Dream finally unmuted, “I was about to head to bed, but I’m glad you made it safely.” He said, before he muted again going back to whatever it was he was doing. Karl and Y/N spoke for a bit, till she got a message from Tommy saying he was here. 

Leaving the call, she walked out and looked around for the tall teenager, and finally spotted him looking at his phone with his face covered by a mask. “Hello Tommy.” She said, and Tommy looked up from his phone, seeing the girl approach him without a mask, figuring it was because she had food and a drink. Walking over to her, he pulled her into a hug, “Hello Y/N, I can’t wait to brag to George that I met you before him.” He said while the girl rolled her eyes, as someone grabbed her luggage that she was struggling to bring as her hands were full from the drink and food. “I bet.” She said, and they all got into his car, as she was full on jet lagged. “You can sleep, I’ll wake you up when we get there.” The older male spoke up, and she thanked him, closing her eyes to let the sleep consume her. Feeling herself being picked up, she groaned a bit but kept her eyes closed wanting to go back to sleep.

Hearing muffled voices she could decipher some of the sentences, but the rest were just gibberish to her, “Let her sleep, I’ll wake her up when I get back.” She heard someone say, before she fell back asleep. George looked down at the sleeping girl and rolled his eyes, “First day here and she’s already getting treated like a princess.” He muttered under his breath sarcastically, as he had to carry her into the guest room. Getting up and leaving, he couldn’t help but think of what was to come. After 6 hours of hanging out, George walked into his apartment, and was shocked to see Y/N on the couch watching some random movie. “Hello Georgie.” She spoke, and George just looked at her, “Seems like you’ve made yourself at home.” He said walking over to the couch and sat down beside her, keeping his distance. Y/N looked over at him and her lips tugged up into a smirk, “What are you smirking about?” George asked, looking over at her.

“A little birdie told me that you said you’d give me a night to remember.” She told him, and George froze before he looked over at her once more, “I’m going to kill Sapnap.” He said gritting his teeth, and Y/N shrugged, turning her attention to the movie. “Why don’t you give me a night to remember then Georgie? Hm?” George now clenched his jaw as he turned his head grabbing Y/N’s jaw forcefully making her look over at him. “Someone’s being a bit cocky.” George said, and Y/N just looked at him and groaned when George moved his hand down wrapping it around her neck. “Not so cocky now, are we?” He teased, leaning forwards and chuckled into her ear. Y/N was genuinely shocked at how quick he switched. “It’s the first day, and you’re already wanting me to fuck the shit out of you.” He mumbled, and Y/N shivered, letting out a soft whine.

“Don’t act like you don’t want to.” She bit back, and George just looked at her before laughing dryly, “Who said I don’t want to?” He told her, as he grabbed some of her hair, forcing her head to lean back. Tightening his grip around her neck she whimpered out, and closed her eyes, clenching her thighs together. George noticed this and smirked, “Someone’s enjoying this.” He said, and Y/N was about to let out some curses but she bit her tongue to hold herself back. Moving his hand away from her throat, he started unbuckling his belt while Y/N watched him in a daze. “Stop staring and strip.” He demanded and Y/N immediately obeyed, stripping off her clothes. George looked at her body, and he bit his lips, “Come on then.” He said patting his now bare lap and Y/N quickly straddled his lap. 

“Since you’ve been so rude every time we talk, maybe it’s time I fuck some sense into you.” George whispered to her, as he grabbed her hips lifting her up so she could easily slide down onto his dick. “You’re on the pill right?” He asked, and Y/N just nodded her head, before she let out a loud moan at the feeling of George stretching her out. He leaned his head back, letting out a slight groan at the feeling. Tightening his grip on her hips when she tried to, she groaned, “Why?” She whined, and George just leaned forward moving her hair out of the way as he kissed the back of her neck, “You are to stay like this until I feel like fucking you.” He told her, and Y/N shivered at the kiss only listening because she enjoyed this feeling. “Such a good girl, I figured you would be a brat since you act like one.” His voice rang through her mind, and Y/N just whimpered leaning her head back on his shoulder.

“George, please I can’t wait any longer.” She begged, and George just smirked before he lifted her off of him, and threw her on the other side of his couch. Y/N yelped as she was thrown, before she had the chance to raise up George had a hold of her hips making her ass stick up in the air. Pushing down on her back so she was perfectly arching her back, he was holding onto her hips making sure he left bruises. Slamming into her, Y/N moaned out loudly, gripping one of the stray pillows that was near her. Biting her bottom lip, George kept relentlessly pounding into her while Y/N was now a blabbering mess. George enjoyed this as he reached forwards grabbing a handful of her hair and tugged on it. “You look so beautiful like this, so sweaty for me.” He teased, while Y/N just let out an incoherent ‘fuck you’. 

Not liking this, George brought his hand up and slammed it down onto her ass. Letting out a small scream, Y/N felt herself grow closer, and George reached around now toying with her clit. He himself was feeling close to his climax, and Y/N could tell from how sloppy his thrusts were getting. Using the hand that had her hair in it, he moved his hand up grabbing her neck bringing her up so she was against his chest. “Fuck George-” She muttered, leaning her head back against George’s shoulder much like earlier. George gave sloppy kisses along her jawline and neck, as they both let out a loud groan. Y/N mumbled words, and George let out a quick, “Fuck” as they both felt themself cum. Pulling out, George watched as some of it leaked out and onto her thighs.

Wiping away the sweat that was on his forehead, he picked her up, “Have you seen the bathroom?” He asked Y/N, who only shook her head, “You’re about to see it now.” He told her as the two made their way into the bathroom. It had a shower, and a bathtub, “Pick which one.” He told her, and Y/N looked between both and pointed to the tub, “I would’ve chosen the shower if it weren’t for how my legs could give out at any moment.” She whispered embarrassed, and George chuckled as he sat her down on the side of the tub, her feet in the tub. “Let me how you want the water to feel.” He said, turning it on and Y/N waited till it felt good, and she nodded, “That’s good.” She said, as she sunk down into the tub.

George smiled at her, as he went over to the cabinet under the sink to grab the bubble mixture. Pouring some into the water, he watched as Y/N mixed it around which formed bubbles. Sinking down into the water, he brought Y/N over to his body, and let her relax against him. “Don’t tell Dream or Sapnap, they had a bet. I really don’t want to lose.” He said, while Y/N lightly laughed at his words, as he massaged her shoulders. “I’m still going to be here for 3 more months, so they are bound to know it happened at one point.” She shrugged, and George hummed in agreement.

[jadedpen]

Welcomed with open arms

Sibling!Half phantom!GN!Reader x Sbi family (+ Tubbo)

Summary: You are stuck in the cold snow as a small toddler in a basket. As the snowstorm roared, Phantoms circle around you, letting out wails of woe and sorrow. Suddenly, you hear the flapping of big feathery wings and see the Phantoms fly away. You then see a mysterious man with a white and green striped hat and welcoming blue eyes.

For context: Wilbur and Techno are twins, the reader is the youngest of the family with Tubbo being 1 year older than Tommy. The twins are 11 years old, Tommy is 4 and Tubbo is 5.

TW: There is a small part in the beginning where the reader almost dies from hypothermia, so be mindful of that, please!

Also, don’t worry, this work will have multiple chapters, so stay tuned!

Sorry if this is kinda bad. This is my first time writing a reader fanfic.

Ao3 link here

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The bitter cold touched your skin as your breath came out slow and steady. Your fingertips glowed blue and your thin wings weren’t much help to warm you up. The basket you were placed in by your unknown parents barely kept you alive all these hours, the thin blanket wrapped around you.

Phantoms circled you, seeing you as one of their own. You could sense the distraught and worry in their cries and their wails. As they swooped down, they tried to pick up the basket that carried you, but to no avail. Your tiny toddler hands tried to reach out to them, wanting nothing more but to be carried somewhere where you won’t freeze in the storm. You let out small wails and cries, those very much akin to a Phantom, until you heard a caw.

One caw became ten, and suddenly there was a whole murder of them, so many that the amount started to block the storm. Some even tried to attack the phantoms, but they wouldn’t leave you alone. They’d rather die than let the crows have their way with you.

But, there came a large beating of wings. Ones way more than the huge murder swirling around you. As the beating wings died down, you could hear the thumps of footsteps coming towards you, and feel something or someone pick you up. The hands were the warmest thing you’ve ever felt, and your eyes met the mysterious person’s bright welcoming blue. The eyes could convey so much; uneasiness, pity, curiosity.

They wore a large hat, one that was green and white striped. Medium blond hair came out of the sides with a small braid in the front and little knickknacks hanging from the strange hat. Huge black wings stood behind them, making them seem larger than the storm from your view. Even though your vision was impaired from the cold, you could see a small bit of what they was wearing aside from their head; a green opened kimono with a black turtleneck and a strange red heart in the middle.

The person looked up at the phantoms, not noticing that their wails were of worry. They pulled out a bow and a sharp arrow, aiming it at the phantoms. You could tell that the person meant harm, and so you wailed at them to make them stop. The person looked at you, and then the phantoms. They finally noticed the roars of the Phantoms were wails and cries, meaning only woe. The person seemed to call to the crows, and the crows obeyed. Birds swooped down to the ground where you and the person were set, no longer focusing on the Phantoms.

The snowstorm got worse, cold even colder. It became harder and harder to breathe or keep your eyelids open. Eyes barely open, you could see the person holding you have panic in their eyes, looking up ahead and wings wide open. Your tiny hands clutched the cloth on their chest, trying to find even the slightest bit of warmth you could feel as the person held you and carried the basket in hand.

You felt the person run, and then take flight. Wind blew on your head as your eyes closed all the way, hearing the caws of crows seem to follow this mysterious person.

A few minutes later, you hear the storm dying down, becoming only a midnight breeze. The person carrying you descended down to the ground, walking towards something warm. Despite the storm now over, you couldn’t open your eyes, seeming to be iced shut.

A huge wave of warmth filled the air as the person opened the door to what you assumed to be their house. You heard childlike voices, 3 to be exact. You weren’t able to understand them, but you were happy to know that you weren’t the only person anymore.

“Who’s that?” A small voice said; you could feel their beady eyes staring at you. ”It’s a baby. I found them freezing in the cold. I’m happy I saved them; any longer and they might’ve been left to die. Poor thing.” The deeper voice came from above you, seeming to come from the person who saved you. The person then sat on something soft and held you in their lap.

“Are you seriously considering adopting another sibling? We already have to deal with Tommy-” “HEY!” Two voices argued, one being slightly deeper and older but still young, and the other being loud and boisterous, being the same small voice you first heard.

“Both of you shut up. Who cares if we have another sibling, this ones adorable.” A separate voice spoke up, setting a warm hand on your tiny toddler one. You lightly grabbed the person’s bigger hands, warming your seemingly frozen hand even more.

“So… do we have a new sibling now?” “Seems like it.” The two older voices continued, “Well, I just hope they don’t turn out like Tommy- “GOD DAMMIT TECHNO-“ Loud arguing could be heard while you continued to hold the mysterious boy’s hand. Opposite to the loudness, the mysterious man from before spoke, “Would you like to hold them Wil?”

You assumed he nodded his head as the striped hat man handed you to ‘Wil’. The boy held you in his arms while the striped hat man softly caressed your head lovingly. You climbed onto the Wil’s sweater, burying your face into the soft material.

“Boys, could you stop arguing before you upset the baby.” “But Techno is being a bitch!” “Tommy! Where did you hear that word?” “Nowhere!” “Shut up Tommy. Before you cause Phil to finally get those hearing aids.”

The three continue bickering while you and Wil just vibe with Wil patting your head and you snuggling into his warmth. After a few minutes of arguing, they finally calm down and crowd around you.

“Alright. I’m going to go and fix up some proper clothes for them. In the meantime, try not to make the child cry, okay?” The striped hat man said, walking out of the room.

You could feel their eyes on you, with Wil still patting your head while a hand held yours. You slowly opened your eyes for the first time in the house and finally saw your new family.

The boy named Wil had curly brown hair with bangs to right of his face, pointed ears, and brown eyes; big round glasses adorned his face and a red beanie upon his head, with a big yellow sweater. The person holding your hand looked almost exactly like him. His hair was the same as Wil’s, though it was to the right, with square glasses and the same pointed ears, with his sweater being pink. A small tusk grew out of each of their mouths, being on opposite sides.,

Wilbur swooned to you, “Hi there. I’m Wilbur.”, smiling at you with a big smile. “This here is my twin, Technoblade, but just call him Techno or Tech.” He looked over to said twin, with Techno staring at you and then patting your head.

The smaller one, who had blonde hair and blue eyes wearing a white shirt with the sleeves being red, looked just as boisterous and loud as he acted. He looked at you curiously as you turned your head to look at him, and to your surprise started poking you in the cheek rather annoyingly with you groaning out of annoyance and snuggling up to Wilbur.

“Tommy, stop poking them you’re gonna make them hate you.” “Shut it Wil, you know I will be the favorite brother. Better than you or Techno or even Tubbo.”

Speaking of the devil, the one you assumed was ‘Tubbo’, due to his name only now being said and the rest having said their names, walked down the creaky stairs; a blanket over his shoulders. The boy had messy brown hair and goat pupils in his blue eyes.

Tubbo walked towards the couch, rubbing his eyes in tiredness. “Phil told me that we apparently have a new sibling.” He walked towards you and sat in front of Wilbur, staring into your (e/c) eyes. “What’s their name? Have you guys even figured out a name?” “I think we should wait until Phil gets back. We don’t want Tommy to try and name them ‘Big Man’.” Saying this, Techno squeezes your hand. “But anyway, I had this super weird dream-“

As Tubbo started ranting about various dreams he’s had over the week, Wilbur nudges Techno and hands you to him. Reluctantly, Techno holds you, with you snuggling into his sweater, which was made of the same material as Wilbur’s.

A few minutes pass and Tubbo is still talking about his dreams when Phil comes in. “Alright. I’ve set up a room for the little one. Considering they seem to be half Phantom, there aren’t any windows since I don’t know if they are affected by the sun or not.”

“Great. Speaking of, what are we going to name them?” “I say we name them Big Man!” “That’s a horrible idea Tommy!” Wilbur and Tommy continue to argue while Phil, Techno, and Tubbo all crowd around you on the couch. “So… what should we name them?” Tubbo started. “Well, what about something nice? Something… simple but fitting.” Tubbo and Phil listed off possible names, seeing if anything would stick.

“What about… y/n?” The rest of the family looked at Techno, the person who suggested the name. “Y/n?” Wilbur stated, thinking over the name. “Y/n. A lovely name.” Phil smiled, looking at you.

“Welcome to the family, Y/n.”

[itsjustnobody0]

Chapter 2.

Hi guys!! It’s nobody. Welcome back!! This is chapter two so if you haven’t read chapter one here is a link… https://www.tumblr.com/blog/view/itsjustnobody0/693832797859856384?source=share

So hopefully after the first chapter it’s actually going to be good.

TW for Chapter 2-

Homeless

Stealing

Cemetery

Police

Hights

Anyway enjoy the chapter!!

By the age of 13, I was living on the street. If I wanted to eat I had to steal, if I wanted to sleep I had to find some dark alleyway with shelter. It wasn’t as bad as you think, I felt free, sort of. Yes I smelt and I was the most dirtiest child you’ve ever seen but I got used to it and anything is better than the place, I would never go back to that place. Often I came to a street that was full of rich people walking, it was easy to pickpocket rich people, they would notice something was missing and they would buy a new one to replace what they thought was lost. Just meant they were easy to pick pocket again and again and they just assumed they were clumsy. I was looking, for my next victim. Somebody that I could steal a bit of cash from or slip their watch off. That’s when somebody caught my eye, a boy around the age of 16 walking down the street. He had pink hair. That was enough to catch my attention. Anybody who could afford that hair dyed was rich enough. He had a nice looking watch on but his wallet looked thick in his back pocket. I settled for stealing his whole wallet I could use a cash in there and sell the wallet as surely it will be some expensive brand. I crept behind him looking as natural as I could. In my dirty clothes and messy hair I did stand out a bit but I soon learnt rich people tended not to look at people who looked poor, as if if they did, they would be expected to give money to them. Then he turned down an alley, it was out of sight from the Main Street which is good for me as it will make my job a lot easier. I got towards him and pinched his wallet. I didn’t think he’d noticed it, and I started to creep away when he shouted stop. I rolled around to see eyes filled with anger. He took in my appearance and I felt a bit self-conscious. I saw the anger in his eyes dissipate into what looked like sympathy. I was scared, nobody normally payed any attention to me. Did he lure me into the alley so he could hurt me or do something else. I was thoroughly scared I didn’t want any of that to happen to me again.

"Who are you?” He said

“who are you?“ I repeated

“That’s not important. Are you homeless” The pink haired boy asked

“why do you care? It’s none of your business anyway why don’t you get back to your fancy house and leave me alone.” I sneered

“Your the one who tried to steal of me.” He retorted me. 

Somehow as we were talking we managed to switch places so he was by the exit of the alley. Then he got his phone out on call to someone. I only heard bits of the conversation but it went something like this. 

Hey Phil I’ve got a Child here who is definitely homeless.

……………

Yeah do you think you could possibly go to the home

……………………

Awesome! Do you think you could get you know who to escort them there as I don’t think they would be willing to go.

……………………

Awesome I am just on the high Street in an alley that goes left off it. Just send them there I’ll make sure they don’t leave before then.

And the calling ended. I wasn’t 100% sure what was happening. I’m pretty sure that conversation was about me but I wasn’t sure why. Who was you know who? Was it Voldemort? He didn’t exist in real life. I was starting to worry, about my life. Something bad could happen to me and nobody would notice. The home could’ve been the cemetery, and you know who could be the people taking my body to the cemetery. Anything could happen right now and I wasn’t prepared for it.

“Okay so I’m going to go.“ I said cheerfully

“I’m sorry but you aren’t going anywhere. I’m sorry for this but I’m just trying to help you and I promise. You’ll be grateful in the future.” He said 

I knew there was no chance of me being able to escape, he was quite clearly fast and strong. I stood there not sure what to do next. I wasn’t standing there for that long but it was long enough soon I saw blue lights flashing from a police car coming down the alley. Oh God. What had I done wrong for the police to be called? I didn’t do anything to him. Right then I really wanted to murder him.

The police got out of the car, there were two of them. Heading towards us, Pinky didn’t look alarmed but I most certainly did. I looked behind me, there was a wall, on the wall was some sort of ladder. I decided to take my chances and run for the ladder. I made it and heard Pinky curse and the police shout. I climbed as fast as I could, almost slipping multiple times. I made it onto a dirty roof and looked around. It wasn’t that high but it was high enough for me not to be able to jump down. I wasn’t sure what to do, the roof was empty and there was no place to hide. There was a few other roofs close enough to jump to. So that’s what I did. I jumped onto a larger roof and ran across that. I jumped to another one. There wasn’t anyway off that one, I couldn’t go back the police were getting closer. I did the next thing I could think of. I was not going to spend my life in jail. No way. I would rather die. I jumped off the roof. Probably not one of my best decisions, one I regret, one I would definitely not have done again. Apparently when you die your life flashes before your eyes. That wasn’t true. I didn’t see anything only the ground rushing towards me. I regretted my decision immediately but it was too late. I hit the ground. Everything went black.

[onecanonlife]

Wilbur wakes up one morning to find white in his hair. This is—irritating, for several reasons, but that’s all it is. An annoyance. A distraction.

There’s nothing deeper at work here. There’s nothing wrong at all.

(Or, the stresses of the presidency give Wilbur a white streak of hair earlier in canon, and somehow, this serves as the cry for help he can never bring himself to make.)

(word count: 6,249)

(first part) (third part) (fourth part)

——————–

Part Two

He tries to pen a letter to Phil. It’s more difficult than he remembers.

Dear Phil, he starts, and that’s good, that’s fine. All is well here in L’Manberg, he continues, and that’s good too. But from there, he’s stumped. What next? What does he tell him about? This is the part where he’d launch into a cute story, something Fundy got up to, or some trouble Tommy caused. But nothing comes to mind. Nothing recent, anyway. But the last letter he sent to Phil was—a month ago? Two, now? So he needs to write, because Phil’s far from a helicopter parent, but he still likes to know what he’s up to. Will still worry, if he gives him a reason to.

So, he needs to finish a letter. Needs to stop procrastinating.

He could write about Niki’s bakery. He can’t remember if he told Phil about it or not. He probably hasn’t, not if it’s truly been that long since his last missive. So he sets his pen to work, scratching out a few more sentences, and he reminds himself that he doesn’t need to be overly verbose. Phil doesn’t need an essay. Just a paragraph or two to assure him that he and everyone else are well, that he’s having fun, that he’s thriving.

Telling him about the bakery will work for that. Except, then, after a bit, he ends up writing, It eases my mind to visit. Truly, it’s one of the only places I let myself relax, and—no. No, that won’t do. That will make him sound as though he’s stressed, and he doesn’t want Phil to worry about that. There’s nothing Phil can do about it, and he couldn’t stand it if the admission led his father to think any less of him. He’s not going to—to start complaining to him. That would be ridiculous.

So he scratches the line out and continues on, except then, he writes, I worry that I’m shirking my responsibilities, but then, I’m probably doing that anyway, simply by virtue of not being, and he stops before he can finish that sentence, because, no. Simply, no. He is absolutely not telling Phil that.

He bites his lip. He’s already scratched out enough that he’ll probably need to start an entirely new draft anyway.

He sets the tip of the pen to paper.

I’m exhausted, he writes, but my mind won’t allow me to rest. Too many shadows in too many dark corners, I suppose. Too many thoughts circling. It’s like a hurricane in my head, and I should be in the eye, but I think the storm wall has caught me. I’m tossing in the air, at the wind’s mercy, and I’m afraid of what will happen when I fall.

I don’t know what I’m doing. I don’t know why I ever assumed that I did. And I feel afraid, because my inadequacies are failing everyone around me. I have to protect them, have to keep them safe, but sometimes I close my eyes and see everything aflame, or I see Dream and his friends flooding into the Final Control Room. We were betrayed, there. I’ve never told you this, but we all lost a life. Me, Tommy, Tubbo, and Fundy. I couldn’t do a thing to stop it. Somehow, I never thought that dying would be terrifying for me, considering who my mother is, but it is. I was so scared, and I still am.

I think I’m a disappointment. I think that if this country fails, it will be my fault, and it will only be right if I go down with it. My people have little faith in me, and they’re right not to, but I can’t bring myself to step down, because at the end of the day, I’m addicted to the power and responsibility. I’m nothing without it. If I can’t manage this, then how can I deserve the trust and faith that others have placed in me?

Most days, I think that everyone hates me. Most days, I think they’re right to do so. I can’t trust anyone. Not completely, not fully, no matter how much I love them. I feel very alone.

He stops writing. Reads it over. Feels his lips quirk up into a wry smile. He’s certainly not sending that.

But the smile fades away after a moment. He supposes that he hoped writing it all out would make him feel better, but if anything, he feels more tired. Drained. Wrung out. Blank.

He fishes around for a new, unmarred sheet of paper.

Dear Phil, he writes, All is well here in L’Manberg. The city is thriving, and my people are well. I really do want you to visit sometime—but not yet, of course! We’ve been having a spot of trouble with creeper holes lately, and I don’t want that to be your first impression. Between you and me, it’s just a little bit embarrassing.

It’s been a while since I last wrote. I do apologize for that; I don’t know where the time goes. There’s always so much to be doing, and I’m more and more thankful for this chance every day. It’s a lot of fun, having a country of our own, and we’re all working to make it as good as it can be. You should see Niki’s bakery—you haven’t tasted heaven until you’ve tasted something Niki’s baked, I swear. She’s a goddess, really, an essential pillar of our society. Baked goods make the world go round.

Tommy and Tubbo are well, and getting into just as much trouble as usual. Fundy grows up more and more every day. I’m so proud of them all.

Be careful of undead infants, and tell Technoblade I said hello, if you get the chance.

All love,

Wilbur

He sets down his pen and rereads. He’s satisfied with that, and more importantly, Phil will be as well. Now all that’s left is to let the ink dry and—

“Hey, boss man,” Tubbo says, opening the door to his office without knocking. He startles, violently. “How’re things coming?”

His heart shouldn’t be racing. It’s just Tubbo. But he came in without warning, which is—irritating. It’s irritating. That’s what it is. He feels himself flushing, just slightly, but surely it’s annoyance.

“There’s a lot of ‘things’ you could be referring to,” he says. “Are you going to be a little more specific?”

“Nah,” Tubbo says, meandering further into the room. But it’s not a regular meander, it’s a Tubbo sort of meander, which means that he’s here for a purpose. He just doesn’t want to reveal it just yet, or perhaps he’s figuring out how he wants to approach it. “Just wanted to know about general things. Big, vast things. Deep things.”

“Deep things,” he repeats, nodding. “Not much of that going on at the moment. Not a lot of deep things in paperwork.” He pulls the nearest sheet of paper closer to him; technically, that’s what he ought to be doing, not writing letters to a father that’s worlds away. He scans the words; it looks like something complicated about trade, something that sets his head to pounding already. The words swim, like they’re dancing, like they’re taking glee in the way he can’t comprehend them.

“I thought there were lots of deep things in paperwork,” Tubbo says, and he looks back up. “I thought that’s why the print is always so small.”

“Maybe,” he says.

“It makes sense to me,” Tubbo says. “Wilbur, is your hair really white?”

He freezes. “What?”

“Niki said that your hair is turning white,” Tubbo says. “Like an old man’s.”

Anger flares. He thought—he didn’t like that she found out about it, but he at least thought he could trust her with it. Thought that she would keep it to herself, that she wouldn’t let it spread to others, to others that might take it and try to use it as a knife to his jugular. But here is Tubbo, and Tubbo is so obviously staring at his hair, eyes flicking across his forehead and around his ears, and he won’t see anything. He double-checked when he arrived at the office; all of the white is under his hat. But he doesn’t like that Tubbo is looking, that Tubbo is actively trying to see, that Tubbo is treating him like some kind of curiosity, and that Tubbo surely must have some sort of opinion and that opinion cannot be anything but—

“Niki said that hair can turn grey or white if a person is very stressed,” Tubbo says, casually. “Are you very stressed, Wilbur?”

Oh—oh, fuck. Is that actually a thing that happens?

“I told her, it was a bad dye job,” he mutters, glancing back down at his paper. The words remain incomprehensible, but he’s not focusing on it. He nudges his pen with his finger, latching onto the light clicking sound it makes as it rolls and then comes to rest.

“Yeah?” Tubbo asks doubtfully. “What, were you trying to dye your hair white?”

He grits his teeth. “Was there something you needed, Tubbo?”

“Nothing I needed, really,” Tubbo answers. “I just wanted to see how you’ve been doing. Seems like forever since you came out of this office. Do you live in here now or something?” He keeps talking before Wilbur can reply, which is just as well, since he might as well live here, considering the state of his room. “And I think I’ve got a new design for a TNT cannon. Kind of streamlined, you might say, if you wanted to check it out. But I think you should just come and hang out with me and Tommy sometime. You never really do that anymore.”

He has a few feelings about TNT cannons. He doesn’t think about TNT too often, because when he does, his mind fills with fire and smoke, and his heart starts beating faster, climbing into his throat, and he wants to run, wants to run far and fast and away, wants to sit and shake until his body can’t move anymore, even when he knows very well that nothing around him is exploding, that his country is secure and his friends are safe. But some days, he can’t so much as smell smoke without a memory rising up to overwhelm him.

Once, he found himself zoning out in the middle of a conversation, a nearby campfire taking him far away from himself, and be barely returned in time to cover for his lapse.

He’s not a fan of TNT cannons, and he can’t bring himself to pretend to be, not even for the sake of Tubbo’s enthusiasm. And—

Hanging out with him and Tommy sounds nice. He misses them, he admits, and some part of him misses the old days, the first days and weeks and months on the server, when it was them and a dream and his fingers dancing on the frets of his guitar, his voice strong and steady and hopes high on the wind, words ready at his lips and Tommy a force of chaos at his back and Tubbo clever and quick by his side, and he just—misses it. Misses them. Misses it all, misses the days before so much was riding on his shoulders.

But he hasn’t the time.

“I’m sorry, Tubbo,” he says, and tries on a smile. “I’m a bit busy right now. Take a rain check?”

“Sure,” Tubbo says, and shrugs. “Later, then. You say that a lot, though, do you know that?”

He winces. Tubbo smiles. He means no harm. Probably. He thinks he would know if Tubbo meant him harm.

And then, Tubbo leaves, and the tension leaves him all in a rush, leaving him—exhausted. Exhausted, and near tears, for some reason, but he blinks those back. That can wait. He doesn’t cry in his office. That’s unprofessional; anyone could walk in on him, and then where would he be?

What was he doing before Tubbo came in?

Right. The letter. He glances it over, scoops it up, and tucks it away in an envelope. He’ll chuck it at the next crow he sees.

---

It’s Tommy who barges in next, a day later, though at least this time, he’s somewhat expecting it. Because if Tubbo knows, then Tommy knows. That is simply the way of the world. He has a difficult time imagining anything ever coming between those two, even information that would be better kept to oneself.

“Why the fuck is Tubbo going on about your hair, then?” Tommy says, with no preamble, and despite himself, Wilbur smiles. That’s Tommy, all the subtlety of a charging bull. And the question is just as irritating as it was yesterday when it came from Tubbo, but he’s more prepared for it this time. He looks up from his work—work that he’s actually doing, at the moment, and he feels rather proud of himself for it—and meets Tommy’s gaze squarely.

“I’ve had an unfortunate encounter with some hair dye,” he says. “The hair dye won.”

“What the fuck?” Tommy says, but there’s already a laugh in his eyes. Good. Tommy is fairly easily deflected, he’s learned. Because Tommy looks up to him, he knows, and that means he’ll willfully look away from any evidence suggesting that perhaps he is not worthy of admiration after all.

It makes him sick, the way he’s thinking about it. Makes him feel like he’s using Tommy, somehow, taking advantage of his affection, when really, that’s the last thing he wants to do. Tommy is his little brother, his little brother by choice, by years spent on the road together, by hushed conversations in the dead of night as the stars bear witness, by all the little intricacies they’ve learned about each other as time continues to pass. Tommy is his little brother, which means it’s his job to protect him, as best he can. He’s done a piss-poor job of that lately. Tommy only has one life left now.

So he can’t fail him again. And perhaps it’s selfish of him, but he doesn’t want Tommy to think he’s failed, either. If it ever turns out that Tommy hates him, he thinks it might kill him.

“Can I see?” Tommy asks, and he prepared for this, too, braced for it. With a long-suffering sigh, he sweeps his hat off his head and angles his face forward, letting Tommy take a good look.

“Satisfied?” he asks.

“Holy shit,” Tommy says. “How the fuck did you manage that?”

“Very impressively,” he says, and puts his hat back on. He’s sure to tuck all the white back under it. It’s a practiced motion, by now. “Or perhaps not very impressively, as it were.”

“Well, it looks sick,” Tommy says, and Wilbur glances at him immediately. He doesn’t seem like he’s lying. He seems almost—impressed? But he sees him looking right away, and immediately backtracks. “Sick as in disgusting, obviously. It makes you look old. Like an old, old man.”

Tommy’s joking, of course, is all bluster and smoke, no fire. But something in his chest stings, and he realizes that the words hurt, and more than that, they hurt because it’s an echo of what he tells himself. He doesn’t like to look in the mirror anymore—though he never did to begin with, actually—but he is well aware of what he looks like. The white hair is just one more symbol of his failing faith, his lack of ability to handle the job that he set himself out to take in the first place. He should be able to do this, and yet, he can’t, and the white hair—well.

After what Tubbo said, it can only mean that he’s weak. Physical proof of his incompetence. That’s really the only way to look at it.

“Shut the fuck up, child,” he says. “Why don’t you go and find a juice box to drink?”

“Oh, fuck you,” Tommy says, and the song and dance is familiar. Tommy rolls his eyes at him—the disrespect in this house is unbelievable—but he turns to go, and that means that Wilbur’s won.

What he’s won, he doesn’t know. Some more self-disgust, maybe. That’s what it feels like.

Lying to Niki. Lying to Tubbo. And now, lying to Tommy. What a stunning specimen of humanity he is. Working through them all like he has a checklist.

And then, Tommy stops in the doorway and looks back.

“Wilbur?” he asks. “You really are alright, aren’t you?”

And that gives him pause. Tommy’s not supposed to ask him that question. If anything, he’s the one who’s supposed to be asking Tommy that.

“It’s just that,” Tommy continues, “I don’t see you around so much, these days. Except for when there’s a problem, and you come out to try and solve it with, with your words and shit. Diplomatic shit, innit? You do that, but you don’t just—you never come to just spend time with us anymore, like how it used to be. And I just sort of miss that, you know? So I was thinking that maybe we could try and do that again, sometime soon? Just, hanging out, like the good old days?”

The good old days.

He doesn’t quite have the heart to tell Tommy that the good old days are long over, that they have been long over since the day Sapnap came to arrest them all for starting a drug empire and the forest around them was set ablaze, since the day they declared independence from the Dream SMP, since the day he in all his naivety declared that all they had to do was ignore the conflict and it would pass them by, since the day he was proven so very, very wrong. Since the day he learned that as much as he values his words, his diplomacy, his efforts toward nonviolence, some people only recognize power in iron and steel.

Since the day he watched his men, his comrades, his family die around him, and knew that he led them to that fate. Since the day Tommy traded his life and then his discs for their independence, and he knew that he couldn’t do a thing to help.

The good old days are long gone. The good old days belong to a different version of him, one that was young and hopeful and stupid, one that had no idea what he was getting into. And he likes to think that he’s still hopeful, that he still strives for a better future, but—

He’s learned. Nothing comes easy, here. There will be no more halcyon summers. The days are getting colder, and there will be no more rest.

“Sure,” he says, and this lie tastes far more bitter than all the rest. “I’d like that.” He gestures at his desk. “I’ve been really busy, but I would like to spend time with you. I’ll let you know when I can, alright?”

And Tommy believes him. He sees it in his answering smile, and he hates himself.

“Sounds good, big man,” Tommy says. “See you later then, yeah?”

“See you later,” Wilbur agrees, and then Tommy, too, is gone. He’s alone in his office, with his duties and his thoughts, and neither of them are kind.

Not that he thinks himself deserving of much kindness.

---

He waits two weeks before visiting the bakery again. It’s not completely intentional; he doesn’t have much time to get away anyhow. But part of it certainly is. He doesn’t want to come again so soon, doesn’t want to know how Niki’s going to look at him, doesn’t want her to poke and prod at something that isn’t important, that is a minor, irritating detail. He doesn’t want to discuss it, and he thinks that Niki might try, so he stays away.

But not forever. He can’t bring himself to take so drastic a step, even if his visits are a bit of a distraction. One that, perhaps, he can’t really afford.

So he steps inside and immediately wants to backtrack, because Niki’s not the only one here. Fundy and Jack Manifold are both sat at the counter, and both of them are looking at him now, having swiveled in their seats to watch his entrance. And that means he can’t leave, because if he leaves without saying anything, they’ll ask him why he did that, and he’ll have to make up something to avoid admitting that he’s been a little bit terrified of interacting with people lately. Because absolutely no one can know that.

Because it’s stupid. Pathetic. He’s pathetic, and he’s become quite accustomed to that word. It seems to live in his head now, like it’s made a nest in his brain, a little roost. Pathetic. Everything he does feels pathetic to him, and probably to everyone else around him.

“Oh,” Jack Manifold says. “Hi, Wilbur. Didn’t expect you in.”

Fundy doesn’t say anything. Just blinks at him, tail swishing. He finds that he doesn’t know what to say. But he needs to think of something, some reason for being here, and if he can manage it, some excuse for extricating himself quickly. The silence has gone on just a little too long, and he’s been standing in the doorway for a full five seconds now, and he needs to come in completely because it’s weird, what he’s doing, and they’re going to call him on it.

And then, Niki pops her head between the two of them, leaning far over the counter, resting practically all of her weight on it.

“Wil!” she says, and smiles. “I’m glad you came! I’m making honey bread, and I know you like that.”

And just like that, he relaxes. Not completely, but to ask that of him would be to expect the impossible. It’s enough.

“I do,” he agrees, and steps further in, letting the door close behind him. “Seems I have good timing.”

The tension in the air—imagined or real? He’s not sure—dissipates. Jack grins at him, raising a glass of—probably not alcohol? He doesn’t think Niki keeps alcohol stocked in here, or at least, none other than the cooking variety. Might be milk. And Fundy still doesn’t say anything, but his tail keeps twitching, and his eyes keep darting between him and the empty stool next to him, and he really hopes that’s an invitation, because that’s how he’s going to take it.

He slides onto the seat, letting his coat fall behind him. His hat, he keeps on. He’s not laying his face on the counter today. Not with other people here. He probably wouldn’t have anyway, tempting though it is. He always feels sleepier in here. It’s probably the warmth.

But he won’t fall asleep.

Niki’s gone back over to the ovens, inspecting her bread. He can smell it on the air, fresh and sweet, and his stomach twists. Has he eaten today? He’s not sure that he has. Though he definitely did yesterday—evening. He thinks. Definitely. A couple apple slices shoved in his mouth, swallowed without really tasting them. But it counts.

“What have you two been up to lately?” he asks. “Haven’t seen you in a while.”

“Not too much,” Jack Manifold answers easily. “Mostly been hanging around Tommy and Tubbo. Getting into mischief, you might say. Nothing too serious or anything!” he is quick to add, seemingly remembering exactly who he’s talking to. “Nothing—I mean, nothing illegal, no, sir. Not us. But, you know, it’d probably be best not to share the details.”

He quirks an eyebrow. “Fair enough,” he says. “As long as it’s not something that I’m going to have to clean up later.”

“We’ve already cleaned up,” Jack says.

“Good.” He looks at Fundy, and affection blooms in his chest, sudden, almost overpowering. His boy’s grown up of late. He can barely remember it happening. It seems that only yesterday he came up knee-high, and now, he’s a man in his own right. But still his little champion, always. “How about you? I know we haven’t been fishing yet. I’m sorry—you know that’s the first thing on my list when I finally get a bit of time.”

Fundy glances away. “I know,” he says. “I’ve been fine.”

“I’m glad,” he says, and Niki saves him from having to say anything else—though why he thinks of it as a rescue, he isn’t sure—by walking back over and placing some bread on the counter before them.

“Fresh from the oven,” she says, “so it’s hot. Be careful.”

It smells nothing short of divine. Niki smiles, pleased, as Fundy and Jack reach for a piece right away, and he isn’t far behind them. Though he tries to be a little more neat about it than the other two are being. The way they’re digging in, he’d think that they’re starving. Frankly, he can’t blame them for it, not when it’s Niki’s food on the line, but he still tries to have a bit more decorum.

“Niki,” Jack says, mouth full, “you are an angel among mere mortals.” Fundy doesn’t say anything, but his tail is swishing happily.

Niki rolls her eyes, and takes a bit of bread for herself. “Don’t talk with your mouth full,” she admonishes. “But thank you, Jack.” And then, her gaze drifts to him, and he finds himself stiffening. For no reason. It’s Niki. It’s just Niki. He trusts Niki. She’s basically his best friend, and he’s comfortable here. He is. This is a place of safety, as much as there are such places to be found. Safety, true safety, is not a thing that exists, not really. But here is as close as he can get to it.

Why can’t he let himself unwind?

Is it because Jack and Fundy are here? He hopes not; that wouldn’t be fair to them. They are his countrymen, his citizens, and more than that, Fundy is his son. What would that say about him as a parent, if being around his child makes him nervous? Not just nervous in a I-hope-I-don’t-fuck-up-my-kid way, but in a I-don’t-feel-safe-here way?

But his shoulders are stiff, slightly hunched. He can’t force them down. So he has to hope it’s not too obvious, that the lines of his coat disguise the hard set of his posture, a stance that indicates he thinks there’s a threat, if they know how to read him right. Which they shouldn’t. They shouldn’t.

“How about you, Wil?” Niki asks, and he takes another bite of bread. Small, so as not to get crumbs everywhere, and he swallows before answering.

“It’s as good as always,” he says. “Do I have to say it?” Though it sits heavier in his stomach than usual, but she doesn’t need to know that.

“I’m glad,” she says. “It’s been a little while since the last time I saw you. You are eating properly, right?”

It’s concern, not an accusation, no matter how misplaced. The question shouldn’t raise his hackles. But it does, and all that’s left is to keep it from showing, to keep it from his voice.

“Of course I am,” he says, and before he can get anything else out, Jack laughs.

“Wouldn’t do to have our president starving on us,” he says, and his voice is light, full of laughter, joking. It’s a good thing that Jack feels comfortable enough to joke with him. He’s glad, because—he doesn’t know him all that well, definitely doesn’t trust him, not yet, but Tommy and Tubbo seem to like him, so it’s good that he’s fitting in, that he’s found a place, that he likes it here. Though liking isn’t always enough to stop the betrayal before it comes. He ought to keep a closer eye on him, just in case, but—that wasn’t the point of this.

The point is that, joking or not, Jack is completely right. It wouldn’t do to let his eating habits interfere with his duties. He’s already weak; is he going to add malnutrition on top of that? Never mind that he often doesn’t feel like eating, these days, that he really only has an appetite when he’s here, in the bakery. He needs to keep his strength up so that he can get things done. And he can’t force himself to sleep, so that problem is out of his hands, but he can force himself to eat.

Jack couldn’t have known what he was prodding at, of course, when he made the comment. But he takes another bite of bread anyway. It’s tough to swallow, even though it tastes delicious. He doesn’t know why. He’s never had an issue eating Niki’s food before. He hopes this doesn’t become a pattern.

And he hopes it’s not because there’s other people here. It would be an explanation, at least, but not one he likes. The implications there wouldn’t be—good, to say the least.

“Jack,” Niki says quietly, admonishingly, and he wishes she wouldn’t, because he doesn’t want Jack to examine what he’s just said, to analyze it as anything other than a joke. So he musters a smile, a quirk of an eyebrow, and Jack grins back at him.

Safe territory. Level ground, even footing. Relatively speaking.

And then Fundy pipes up.

“Hey, Wil,” he says, and Wilbur wonders, suddenly, where he picked up the habit of calling him ‘Wil’ or ‘Wilbur’ more often than he calls him ‘dad’. Not that he minds it, but it’s curious. Could it be from him? He himself calls Phil by his name more often than not. Perhaps it’s genetic. But then Fundy continues, “Is your hair actually, like, turning white?” and Wilbur is no longer interested in thinking about little details like that.

He’s tense again. Tense enough now that they can probably see it, even without looking too hard.

“Why is everyone so interested in my hair, lately?” he asks. “It’s just hair. Grows out of everyone’s head. Except for yours, Jack Manifold.”

“Point,” Jack Manifold agrees, but there is a gleam in his eyes, behind his glasses, that says he too is interested in the direction this conversation has taken. Not ideal.

“It’s just that,” Fundy persists, “it’s a little bit weird, right? If it’s turning white like that? Is that normal?”

“It’s not ‘turning white,’” he says, which might be a mistake, because he’s lying through his teeth, now. “It was a bad hair dye incident. Nothing you need to be concerned about.”

Jack laughs. “How’d you manage to fuck up hair dye that badly?” he asks, and the way the question is phrased is irritating; he doesn’t want Jack to start thinking he’s an incompetent fool who can’t dye his own hair properly. But he’ll also take this line of questioning over the other, so perhaps it balances out.

Except then, Niki splays both her hands on the counter. Any earlier levity that she had is now gone.

“Is that so?” she says. “That’s not what you told me.”

His heart is pounding again. He really, really hopes that he’s not developing a condition of some kind. He’d know if he were having a heart attack, wouldn’t he?

“I’m pretty sure that is what I told you,” he says, and Niki shakes her head.

“No, you told me that it wasn’t dye, when I asked,” she says. “And then you said that it was, but you were lying.”

She doesn’t sound angry, which is perhaps the worst thing about all of this. She doesn’t sound angry that he’s lied to her, taken advantage of her trust and fed her a blatant falsehood. Her voice is calm, matter-of-fact, and there’s a glimmer in her eyes that isn’t annoyance or betrayal or any of the other emotions she should be feeling. Instead, it’s concern. That blasted concern again.

He doesn’t deserve it.

“Really?” Jack says. “Huh. Well, what’d you do that for, then?”

He’s changed his mind. The worst thing about all of this is that there are other people present. That he’s not alone with Niki, which would still be an undesirable situation, but manageable. Jack Manifold and Fundy are both here, staring at him, expecting answers that he doesn’t want to give, and Fundy—

Why is his son looking at him like that?

“Why are you all so pressed about my hair?” he demands. “It’s hair. You don’t even see it.”

“I mean,” Fundy says, “like I said, it’s just kind of weird, right? I don’t think hair just turns white for no reason. Not unless you’re really old, which you’re not, I don’t think. So I guess we’re just curious about what the reason is.”

He doesn’t want to talk about this. This isn’t why he came here. This place, this bakery, these people, it’s supposed to be an escape from his responsibilities. The only one he allows himself, even though he knows he shouldn’t. It’s the one place where he doesn’t have to think about his own failings, where he can relax a bit and let himself be, if only for a little while, but here they are, pushing him on this, and he doesn’t want it. Doesn’t want to be reminded of his incompetency. And they don’t know, can’t know exactly what they’re doing to him, but—

He slams his hand against the counter, sudden emotion boiling over. They all jump, the three of them. Niki’s eyes widen, and Fundy’s ears press back against his skull.

“Then don’t be,” he snaps. “Leave it the fuck alone. It’s really none of your business, is it?”

There is a moment of silence. The only sound is the crackling of furnaces.

“I guess not,” Fundy mutters, and he realizes what he’s done.

He’s just snapped, lashed out at his friends, his countrymen, his son, and for what? Because their questions are stressing him out? He should have turned around and left the moment he saw them in here, no matter what they would have thought, because this is worse. This is so much worse than that, and now he feels like an absolute shitstain of a human being. What kind of person gets so fucking upset over questions about his hair?

“I’m sorry,” he says. Too little, too late. “I didn’t mean—” Fundy is looking at him. They all are, and suddenly, he can’t bear it. Not any longer. “I’m sorry. I’ve got a lot of work to do. I really should be going. Thank you for the bread, Niki.”

It’s painfully transparent, and he is very aware of the fact that it’s the exact same way that he rushed out of the bakery when he was last here. Except this time, there are more people here to witness his shame.

History repeats itself, he thinks, bitterly. History repeats itself, and it only gets worse.

But he’s not staying here. He can’t. He just—can’t. Because he feels very upset over such a stupid little thing, and he’s upset that he’s upset, and now he’s upset other people, and he can’t stay here any longer, because if he does, the gods only know what’s going to fly out of his mouth next.

“Wil, please stay,” Niki says, but he’s already standing.

“Be seeing you all,” he says, and the door isn’t far, but it feels like miles, because he can feel their stares burning into his back as he makes his exit.

“Aw, wait, Wilbur, you don’t have to—” Jack starts, but he’s out the door. He’s out the door, and he lets it swing shut behind him, and the words cut off. He doesn’t have to listen to them. So if Fundy says anything, he doesn’t hear it, and he wonders why that makes him feel so much worse. Worse than he does already, which is no mean feat.

His stomach growls. He’s hungry. How many bites of bread did he take? Two? Three? Not enough to be filling. But somehow, he already knows that if he seeks food elsewhere, it will turn to ash in his mouth. And he can’t go back, not after the scene he’s just made, so he’s going to have to be hungry. Which is fine. He’s fine. He’s fine, even though he’s just fucked everything up, and he rather thinks he might not be able to show Niki his face ever again. So, no more bakery. No more safe place, and wow, he is being a dramatic fuck, isn’t he? But he can’t help himself. He never can.

He should have known better from the start. There is no such thing as safety. No exceptions. He should have tried harder to remember that. And he’s not angry, not anymore, not really, because they weren’t aware of the hornets’ nest they were stirring up; rather, he’s angry at himself, for losing control, for letting himself react, for not being able to handle a simple question with the poise and calm that is expected of him as president.

For being weak. That’s what it comes down to. His weakness. Persistent, and now, persistently on display.

He does a lot of screaming into his pillow that night. It doesn’t help. And sleep, it seems, is determined to continue its avoidance, so the night stretches long, and even his tears eventually run dry.

---

The next day, Niki comes to his office.

[babyyweebbitch]

Please stay with me — Remake

Soo I reread the one I did before and I wanted to remake it because it wasn’t as good (heres the first one) I hope I can make this one better 😭😭 Also, grab tissues. I made this TOO sad

TW // death ; blood ; funeral ; severe depression & relapse

summary: Chris Redfield and his wife were on a mission a seven months after Piers’ death. His wife has been Captain of their team ever since that day.

Seven months ago Piers Nivans died in order to save Chris’ life and for the BSAA. Chris was still fucked up after that day and he thinks about it almost every day. He took a break from the BSAA since his wife made him. It wasn’t a very long one though, he missed being at work, he missed his coworkers and he missed her

Chris resigned as Captain and let his wife replace him. It was a very emotional day not not only for her and Chris but for the entire BSAA because they’ve never had a woman as Captain before. She was a good captain probably even better than Chris. Despite her height, weight and basically being the youngest on that team at 28. She was undoubtedly the best captain in years

Her team along with Chris were on a mission. Their mission was to take out the enemy, find three hostages and disable the bombs set in the building “Okay men… we’re gonna be splitting into three teams since there’s a lot of us here. Team A; Corey, John and Andrew. Your job is to find out where the bombs are and disable them as quickly as possible.”

“Yes ma’am!” The three went off to do their job as told

“Team B; Phil, Jean and Mark, you’re in charge of finding and getting the hostages to safety out of this building. You three can split up, stay together I don’t care. As long as your job is done”

“Ma’am” the three left

She turned to Eric and Chris who were standing together “what a coincidence, you two are with me.” She said with a slight smile on her face, walking ahead of the two Eric leaned over to Chris “She’s so cool…” Chris thought of Finn the moment he said that, he couldn’t help but to smile and look at him “I know…”

“Stop standing around we have a mission you know!” She yelled out to the two of them. Chris and Eric quickly made their way to the door the enemies were behind, Chris was silent the entire time before he was quickly checked back into reality with a pat on the shoulder “you okay? We need you fully here for this” his wife said as he looked down at her and nodded “yeah I’m okay…”

Chris, his wife and Eric all prepared as the door was blown open and guns were firing. The three did take cover just in time. After about five minutes of gun fire and fighting it finally stopped, thinking they had all the enemies taken care of they all stood up “good job! We did it — Chris!” Y/N called out as she did catch a glimpse of an enemy that didn’t die somehow standing up and pointing their gun towards Chris.

She quickly ran towards Chris and pushed him out the way, for Chris it’s almost like everything was happening in slow motion. He had to process everything leading up to that moment. He heard a scream of pain when his head finally cleared, looking up to see his wife shot in the sternum and Eric shooting the enemy down

She started to fall and Chris caught her before she hit the floor, his eyes started filling up with tears as he looked at her “baby please… tell me this is a joke!”

She knew she was dying, her body felt so cold from the inside out she, she coughed before reaching into one of her many pokes on her pants “c…Chris… do me a favour okay? Please…. stay safe” she handed him her wedding ring, she never wore it during missions to avoid it getting broken, rusted or something. So she held it in her pocket where it was safe “I… feel so… cold”

Chris looked at the ring then at her “no don’t say that! You’re gonna be fine! You’re gonna be fine! Please stay with me!” He started crying, Eric stood by as Team B; Phil, Jean and Mark came in. They surprisingly finished the bomb quicker than expected “Captain w—“ Mark was starting to talk but he quickly stopped when he realised what was happening

“Guys… take care of him for me…” she struggled to talk. She looked up at Chris to see him crying, she lifted her Hand up to his cheek to wipe his tears one last time “no no… don’t cry hon… I’ll tell my parents you said hi… I love you..” Chris held onto her hand and his heart practically stopped the moment he felt her hand and body go heavy and her head fall back … she was dead now

“No…. Please come back! Please don’t go! Y/N!!!” He held her body close and just sobbed, Eric and team B were tearing up and trying to wipe their tears

It took a while to get Chris to let go of her body and let them put her on a stretcher and on the truck so they can go back. When they finally did everyone on the team was there. It took three guys to pry him off of her This was the first time they’ve ever seen him cry like this

—————————

It’s been almost a month since she’s died, Chris looked horrible. He hasn’t shaved, left the house, he started drinking again and Claire had to clean him up at night since he wasn’t sober enough to even do it himself. The house looked like shit especially the room Chris and his wife shared

It was the day of the funeral and Chris was sitting on the edge of the bed looking at the picture of him and her on their wedding day back in 2007. He somehow managed to even get up that day and not drink. He showered that morning, got dressed in a suit and did his hair. He still didn’t shave though

Claire came in “Chris? You ready?” She asked. She had on a black dress on “I guess so…” Chris responded. He stood up and placed the picture down on the night stand and grabbed the necklace he had with his wife’s ring on it.

Claire fixed his tie and jacket before they left. Chris was always taking care of her when she was younger so now it was time for her to take care of her older brother “good. Let’s go” Claire let him walk in front of her to the car. She drove because one he couldn’t think straight enough to drive and he was completely hung over from drinking too much

After about a 45 minute drive they arrived to where her funeral was being held at. Everyone they knew was there, Leon, their BSAA team, Her family. It was hard for him to see her brother and sister at their older sisters funeral

The ceremony, the viewing and speeches all happened and Chris barely even got through his speech without crying

(Im so so so sorry for this next part)

Chris’ speech: “Y/N was an amazing person, she always took care of everyone, me, her siblings, our team, Claire… everyone. She put everyone before herself no matter who they were. She joined the BSAA not because of herself because of her parents death in Raccoon City. She promised them she would do something in any way to stop what happened in Raccoon from ever happening again. She treated our team like her family and even the rookies as her kids even if they were a few years younger then her. She was an even amazing person and wife. And I miss her dearly.”

There wasn’t a single dry eye in that room when Chris said his speech. After everything, everyone went inside to eat and talk.

Chris sat with Claire and Y/N’s siblings. He just picked at his food and stared at the plate. He was terrifyingly silent before Leon came over “hey Chris… how are you holding up?” Leon asked as he stared at Chris. He could tell how hard this has affected Chris. “I’m fine…”

“Chris… You need to eat. All you’ve done in the past month was drink, workout and cry… You need to at least eat something” Claire said “she wouldn’t want this… Her or Piers wouldn’t want you to be like this. Y/N would be yelling at you if she saw you picking at your food like this. We both know she would”

Chris’ eyes started to water once again before he spoke “I…. I know.. but I just miss her so much, Claire… we were gonna start a family together… she wanted to have kids and get a bigger house so we can have a big family… now I can’t have one because she’s the only person I wanted a family with…” Chris sighed softly as he wiped his eyes

“I miss her too… we all do…” Leon commented looking down at his plate. Chris eventually ended up eating his food and everyone left to go home. The entire drive home was deafening to the point you can hear a pin drop

When he got home he changed inside a fresh pair of clothes and he started to clean the house, starting with the bedroom and ending in the Kitchen. He cleaned it exactly how she’d like it and when he was finished around 3:32 am he sat on the couch and sighed

They were right… She would yell at him if she saw the way he was, how the house was when she died

—————————

After a few years pass it’s before the entire Village situation. Every week since the funeral Chris visited her grave and just talked to her for a bit. On her birthday he spent almost half the day there, on new year’s he watched the fireworks by your gave.

He still hasn’t moved on since her death he can’t even get into another relationship with a woman since her death but it’s not like he can find anyone else like her… and honestly he didn’t want to.

IM SO FUCKING SORRY FOR MAKING THIS EVEN SADDER tbh tho I started tearing up writing this

[fruitcoops]

Eve, I LOVE binging your masterlist. I was wondering if I could request a short lil story where someone reminds Jules that since Remus + Sirius got married, then Sirius and Reg are his brothers now too and Jules gets really excited about having TWO more older brothers after Coops' wedding? If not, totally fine!! Have a great year!!

Part 2 of the Coops Wedding series! It’s finally here after my computer was possessed and deleted the first version--this one is just over 4k words, so I hope that makes up for the delay! Sweater Weather credit goes to @lumosinlove <3

Preparations II Part 1

Remus had never been much of a dancer—despite his speed on the ice, he had two left feet and only the barest hint of rhythm. However, dancing at his wedding was a different story.

Sirius twirled him in a small circle, smiling from ear-to-ear as their friends and family spun around them to the beat blasting through the speakers. They still had three hours until sunset, and Remus was planning on spending every second of it with Sirius’ hand in his own. He pulled him in for another kiss—our tenth today? Twentieth? One hundredth? Who cares—and pulled away with a laugh as Jules and Katie bumped into the backs of his thighs.

“Watch it!” he called, ruffling Jules’ hair as they passed in a dramatic tango. Katie shrieked with giggles as Dumo swept her into his arms, spinning her around with a broad smile. Hope took Jules’ hands while Phil Collins began to sing about love, happiness, and everything Remus was already holding in his arms.

“Hey!” Sirius said over the music, giving Remus a squeeze.

“What?”

“I love you!”

“I hope so!” Remus laughed, spinning Sirius under his arm before reeling him in to bump their noses. “Not bad for a wedding we planned in six weeks, eh?”

Sirius shook his head, grinning. “We were engaged for ten months. How did we put that off for so long?”

“Because we’re busy all the fucking time.”

“We’re not going to be busy for three whole months,” Sirius said giddily as he picked Remus up a few inches with ease. He paused for a moment, scanning his face as if he was trying to memorize it.

“What’re you thinking about?” The were close enough that Remus hardly had to raise his voice above a murmur.

“We get to do this every day for the rest of our lives.”

His words hit Remus like a semitruck of affection and tears prickled his eyes as he leaned down for a kiss; Sirius set him down to kiss him properly, hands gently bracketing his jaw. “You are the most incredible person,” Remus said against his lips. “How the hell did I get so lucky?”

“I could ask you the same.” Sirius smiled and rested their foreheads together. “Come on, I think Celeste wants to cut the cake soon.”

Remus looked over at the folding table on the other side of the dance floor and stifled a laugh; Celeste, in her pretty blue party dress, was adjusting the cake by millimeters and glanced at her watch every few seconds, as if she was afraid people were going to leave. “I’m dying to know what she eventually decided on for the flavors.”

Sirius hummed his agreement and pulled Remus along by the hand—they didn’t even have to say anything before the rest of the small crowd followed them and gathered around the table. “Wait, wait, wait!” Celeste gasped, taking her phone out of Dumo’s pocket. After a few seconds of quiet, she nodded and centered it on them. “D’accord.”

“Ready?” Remus set his hand on top of Sirius’ and the hilt of the knife, pushing slowly down as it cut through the white frosting in a smooth glide. It was perfectly baked; not a single crumb stuck to the blade as they pulled it out.

“Here we go,” Sirius muttered as they took the first piece out. “Vanilla!”

“Orange, actually,” Celeste said, beaming. “The next layer is chocolate.”

“Celeste.” Remus gave her a tight hug before passing her along to Sirius, who bent down so she could kiss his cheek.

“Merci, maman,” he said quietly. “C’est parfait.”

“Surprise!” She did little jazz hands before handing them two forks from the end of the table. “Oh, this is so exciting. You have to try it, I don’t know if it’s good. I’ve never made an orange cake before.”

“Hurry up, Cap, we’re hungry!” Logan called from the back of the crowd. Sirius pulled a face at him and carefully slid the piece onto a paper plate before linking his elbow with Remus’.

Remus took a forkful of the cake and held it to Sirius’ mouth—just as he went to eat it, Remus scooted it to the side. “Ope, a little to the left, love.”

“Remus.”

“Oh, you almost had it! Not quite that far.” He could hear Jules giggling and grinned, moving it two inches to the right as Sirius tried to get it a third time.

“Remus!”

“What? It’s not my fault you can’t catch a fork!”

Sirius finally grabbed his elbow and held it in place to get the cake into his mouth, narrowing his eyes at Remus. “Only you would be mean to me on our wedding day.”

“I’m not being mean.” Remus kissed his nose. “Just keeping things interesting.”

“Yeah, yeah, alright.” Sirius got his own bit of cake and held it up. “Close your eyes, sweetheart.”

The second his eyes shut he regretted his decision, but before he could shout a full paper plate of cake smacked into his face with a splat. Everyone gasped, then burst out laughing as the plate fell back down onto the table. Remus slowly wiped frosting from his eyes, flicking it down onto the grass. “That was mean.”

“That was payback,” Sirius corrected.

“See, I would believe you, except I know you’ve been planning to do that for at least three days.”

“Honestly, I’m surprised you didn’t do it first,”

“C’mere, you.” Remus reached half-blindly for his tie, pulling him in for a sugary kiss and feeling around with his other hand for the plate. He pulled away and, before Sirius could open his eyes, smushed the leftover cake right onto his forehead.

Sirius licked his lips. “Celeste, the cake is fantastic. Do you think it’ll moisturize?”

She was laughing too hard to respond, but she blew him a kiss in between drying her eyes. Remus took a napkin of his own and wiped his face off, licking as much of it off his hands as he could. “Oh, please don’t wait for us to clean up,” he said, motioning the still-laughing crowd forward. “We’ll be here for a while.”

“Whose fault is that?” Sirius teased.

“Yours!”

They ended up ducking into the kitchen to wash up while Dumo and Celeste passed out slices of cake. “I hope there will be some left over for us,” Sirius said as Remus washed the crumbly frosting from his hair. “From the little I got, it was amazing.”

“Yeah, she nailed the orange flavor.” Remus leaned on the front of the sink, watching people mill around or return to the dance floor for one more song before enjoying their cake. The buzz of their mingled voices dripped with joy and he smiled to himself, soaking in the feeling of his family’s happiness.

Warm arms encircled his waist as Sirius’ chin rested on his shoulder. They said nothing and waited in utter silence until Remus laced their fingers together and headed back out into the summer sunshine.

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

An hour later, a dozen mismatched plates of food laid decimated on the folding table with a quarter of a wedding cake left as James headed toward the dance floor alone, clutching a piece of paper. He stopped just in front of Remus and Sirius’ table and winked at them.

“Hey, everyone. If you don’t know me, which I find difficult to believe for a number of reasons, I’m James Potter, the groom’s best friend. Yes, both of them.” He paused for a moment to let the laughter roll through. “However, I didn’t want a fight to break out over who got to have me as their best man—”

“There was no fight,” Remus corrected with a grin. “The loser got you, Pots.”

“And a lucky loser he is,” James shot back playfully before clearing his throat. “I met Sirius Black six and a half years ago, when he was eighteen and awkward. We were both awkward, actually, but he had this uncanny ability to make it look cool while I tripped over my own feet.

“The minute I met Sirius, I knew we were going to be friends. He was quiet, a little shy, and didn’t really know how talk to people. In that way, we were exactly alike.” The laughter was even louder that time and Sirius shook his head. “Ah, who am I kidding. I adopted Sirius as my best friend because I thought it would be hilarious to corrupt him.”

James glanced down at Sirius with a smile. “While I attempted to make an extrovert out of him, I learned several important things: number one, he is the least extroverted person I’ve ever met. Two, he is one of the kindest, funniest people on the planet. And three, my life had been severely lacking without him in it.”

A soft ‘aww’ washed over the group and Remus ran his thumb over Sirius’ knuckles.

James looked back at the other tables as he continued. “Sirius Black is known to most of the world as one of the best hockey players of our time. To me, he’s the dorky little brother I never had, and I am so, so proud of him. I’ve had the privilege of watching him open up, not only to me, but to everyone else on the team that he loves with that big soft heart. When my son was born—you all know my son, right? I think I have a picture here somewhere—”

“No!” half the group shouted as James grinned.

“Just making sure you’re still awake. Anyway, when my son was born, naming Sirius godfather was literally the easiest thing I’ve ever done. I kinda sat back went ‘hmm, who is the first person I can think of to entrust with my child’s life?’ and the only natural decision was the one who is terrified of children.”

“Terrified is a bit of a strong word,” Sirius complained, though his eyes were shining.

“My bad, you’re petrified by children,” James corrected. “But in all seriousness—sorry, couldn’t resist—in all seriousness, I couldn’t think of anyone better suited to the job. I think that tells you everything you need to know about Sirius, actually. Even when he’s scared to death, he goes out of his way to help people when they need it.

“Sirius, however happy you are right now—and you’re basically glowing—I need you to know that it’s one tenth of how happy you have made the people you love.” James’ voice got a little tight and Sirius took an unsteady breath. “You are a natural leader and a great hockey player, but most importantly, you are an outstanding friend. You deserve every good thing coming your way, today and for the rest of your life. As your best man and your best friend, I’ll be there whenever you call.”

Sirius sniffled as James wiped his cheeks dry and turned to Remus. “Loops, take care of my little brother, alright?”

“You got it, Pots,” Remus said, barely above a whisper.

James nodded, then raised his glass of champagne. “To Sirius and Remus, and all the happiness they deserve.”

A loud cry of “cheers!” went up, followed by thunderous applause as Sirius got up and wrapped James in a full-body hug, nearly knocking them both over. They separated after a moment and James stood on his toes to kiss the top of Sirius’ head before they went back to their respective places.

“You okay?” Remus murmured, linking their hands together again.

“Fuck, I knew he was going to make me cry.” Sirius shook his head with a smile and sniffled once again. “Yeah, I’m alright.”

Lily raised an eyebrow as she stood James’ place. “Y’know, Re, I seem to recall you promising me a microphone if I did this.”

“Sorry to disappoint!” Remus called back, feeling a flutter of nerves in his stomach. Lily had refused to share any of her speech with him; when he tried to sneakily grab it once, she shoved it down her shirt and glared until he left the room.

“I’ll get over it.” She rubbed her fingers along the edge of her paper and sighed. “I’ve written and rewritten this speech about a dozen times since Re asked me to do it, but just being here—” She took a moment and blinked back tears. “It’s different. Just ignore me if I cry, okay?

Lily cleared her throat and turned back to the paper. “I met Remus Lupin six and a half years ago, on the same day James met Sirius for the first time. Personally, I think we should make that day a national holiday, since it irrevocably changed the course of both our lives. James found his best friend and little brother, and I found my Remus.

“One of the first things you will notice when you meet Remus is that he is friend shaped.” Several murmurs of agreement rippled through the crowd and Lily winked at Remus as he flushed pink. “Told you so. Honestly, Remus is one of those people who just exudes kindness. When I found out I was pregnant, he was the first person I told besides James. I knew Remus would not only keep my secret, but also be there in whatever capacity I needed because he cares. Truly, madly, deeply.”

Lily looked over to them with a soft, fond expression that made Remus’ stomach twist into knots. “In Sirius’ vows, he said you were sunshine through dark clouds, which is quite possibly my favorite descriptor of all time. It’s really sappy and cute, for one thing, but also true. Re, you bring light and warmth wherever you go. As someone who has been on the receiving end of that light, I can tell you that it is absolutely overwhelming in the best way. There are few places I feel safer than around you.

“And now we’re here, where you just married the love of your life.” The first tear slid down Lily’s cheek, dipping into her dimple as Remus’ own tracked down his chin. “God, Re, this is incredible. You two get to be together for the rest of your lives, and the rest of us have the best seat in the house to one of the greatest love stories of this century! I mean, c’mon, how many people can say they’ve made it through everything you did?”

Lily sniffled and raised her glass, though she maintained eye contact with him the whole time. “To Remus and Sirius, who remind us all what it looks like to be in love, even when the whole world tries to stand against you.”

A second ‘cheers’ began, but Remus was already on his feet and crashing into Lily, pulling her close as she clutched the back of his suit jacket. “I love you, Lils,” he choked out. “That was fucking incredible.”

“Love you too, Re.” She pulled back and carefully smudged her hands under her eyes to keep her makeup intact. “Ugh, sorry if I ruined your jacket with the waterworks.”

“You’re in good company.” She kissed each of his cheeks and fluffed the front of his hair up, making them both laugh as she took her seat again and Remus moved past his table with a last look to Sirius.

His mother’s eyes grew shiny with unshed tears as he held his hand out and guided her to the dance floor, where they swayed back and forth as Here Comes the Sun started to play, gentle and smooth. “Oh, you,” Hope managed as the lyrics began and Remus twirled her slowly. “I bet your father’s crying even though he’s not dancing.”

Remus glanced over to their table—as always, she was right. “He is. God, you’re good.”

“That’s what happens when you’ve been married for twenty-seven years,” she said, eyes crinkling. “Someday, that’s going to be you.”

He huffed softly. Don’t cry on mom, don’t cry on mom, don’t cry on mom. “You can’t just say stuff like that. It’s like kicking me while I’m down!”

“Little darlin’, it seems like years since it’s been clear,” she sang with a grin, tapping his nose. “Here comes the sun, dodododo, here comes the sun, and I say…”

“It’s all right,” Remus finished under his breath. The dance was over in an instant and after a thousand years at the same time—all too soon, people were clapping as they made their way back to the tables and Sirius walked over to Celeste.

She covered her mouth with her hands as he offered an arm, then nodded and accompanied him to the dance floor. He whispered something and she laughed, looping her arms around his neck with a bit of a stretch as a French song Remus had never heard came through the speakers and softened their smiles.

They talked quietly as they danced; Celeste was as elegant as ever and Sirius could be quite graceful when he put his mind to it. She traced his cheekbones with her thumbs and he closed his eyes, looking utterly at peace. Remus’ heartstrings tugged at the sight and he rested his chin on his hand, letting the waltz roll over him.

More applause followed their dance as Celeste held him in a tight embrace until a more upbeat song began and couples mobbed the dance floor. Sirius downed half his water in one gulp before sitting down with a heavy sigh, and dropped his forehead onto Remus’ shoulder. “You looked good out there,” Remus said, running a hand through his hair.

“So did you. I can’t feel my feet anymore.”

“I think we’re supposed to dance at our wedding.”

“I’m so hungry.”

Remus groaned; between the endless congratulations and conversations after the ceremony, they had no time to enjoy the assorted dishes people brought. “Same. We should go somewhere after this.”

“Other than home?”

“Home…” Remus trailed his lips to Sirius’ ear. “Is for other plans. Food happens elsewhere.”

“Good plan,” Sirius said, a little breathless as he sat back up and stood with a stretch. “Come on, sweetheart, the dance floor awaits.”

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

Thirty minutes after the sun set and Adele’s perfect fairy lights lit up the backyard, the party finally started winding down. Finn had fallen asleep with his head on Leo’s shoulder about ten minutes prior, but nobody had the heart to wake him; as the best dancer of the group, he had been a hot commodity for anyone looking to show off in addition to whirling both his boyfriends around.

Jules stumbled over to Remus and curled up in his lap without warning, snuggling his face into his chest with a jaw-cracking yawn. Regulus came up behind them a moment later, resting his hands on Sirius’ shoulders and scaring the daylights out of him. “Jesus f—frick, Reg!” he yelped, holding a hand over his heart.

“Sorry.” He didn’t look very apologetic as he turned to Remus. “Jules has been asking for you.”

“Oh, yeah?” Remus looked down and brushed the soft bangs from his eyes. “What’s up, buddy?”

“I love you,” Jules mumbled. “You got married. That’s so cool.”

Remus smiled. “It really is. Thanks for being the ring-bearer, by the way. You did a great job.”

Jules made a muffled noise before wrapping his arms around Remus’ waist with a sigh. “Mmkay. G’night.”

“You can’t fall asleep yet!” Remus tickled his side lightly. “We’re almost done, I promise.”

“What time is it?” Jules cracked an eye open and fumbled for his wrist, turning Remus’ hand over to check. “It’s not even ten! Why am I tired?”

“You’ve had a busy day. Do you know where mom and dad are?”

“Still talking.”

Remus surveyed the crowd and quickly spotted them next to the cubs, sipping water and sharing a piece of cake. He stood carefully, making sure Jules was steady on his hip before heading toward the table with Sirius and Regulus in tow. “We’ve got a tired munchkin,” he whispered when they arrived, depositing Jules into the chair next to his mother; within moments, Jules laid his head on the table.

“Love you, Re,” he said as he tucked his arms under his head. “Best big brother.”

“Best of all three?” Logan gasped in mock-surprise.

“Three?” Jules sat up straight and gave him a confused look. It was made extra adorable by the crooked cowlick decorating the whole right side of his head. “I only have one.”

“Now that Remus and Sirius are married, you’ve got two more big brothers,” Logan reminded him. “Regulus and Sirius count.”

“That’s crazy,” Jules yawned, cocking his head at the brothers. “Re is still my favorite, but you’re awesome and I love you, too.”

Regulus made a soft sound and Sirius kissed the top of Jules’ head. “Don’t tell anyone, but you’re my favorite Lupin,” he stage-whispered, laughing as Remus rolled his eyes.

Jules frowned. “You married one of us, and it sure wasn’t me.”

“Alright, second favorite,” Sirius conceded with a grin as the rest of the table laughed.

“Mama, I’m tired.” Jules traced the bead patterns on Hope’s dress.

“Okay, lovey, we can go home soon.” She raised an eyebrow at Remus and he nodded. “Do you want to say some goodbyes first?”

“We’ll see everyone tomorrow. ‘s okay.”

Lyall gathered Jules into his arms, then turned to Remus and pulled him close with a kiss to his forehead. “So proud of you, kiddo.” He looked over at Sirius for a moment. “Take good care of him, eh?”

“Sir, yes sir.” Sirius pressed a kiss to Remus’ temple as they separated, then moved aside for Hope.

She scanned his face for a moment, then touched their foreheads together. “Good luck, baby. Not that you need it, but you deserve it anyway.”

Remus pulled them both back in for a family hug, feeling Jules drape a drowsy arm around the back of his neck. “Thank you so much for being here. It means—it means everything to me.”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Lyall whispered. “Now go, you two haven’t eaten anything tonight.”

“Thank you,” both of them breathed at the same time, sending the whole group into a fit of laughter.

They said a few more ‘thank you’s and goodbyes until the other Lions started a loud, incoherent cheer and all but chased them toward Sirius’ car, where a small ‘Just Married’ sign had been stuck on the back window. They were planning on keeping the wedding a secret from the media as long as they could—the reaction would be even more hilarious the longer they waited.

“What if—” Remus broke off into snickering as they pulled out of the Dumais’ driveway. “What if nobody notices?”

“What? That we’re married?” Sirius gave him a disbelieving look. “People are going to figure it out so fast, no matter how many times Pots changes the subject.”

Remus hummed and rested his hand on Sirius’ thigh as he drove, tapping along to the rhythm of the radio; the route was familiar to them both, even after the chaos of the day. A slow, unstoppable smile made his cheeks hurt. “We got married.”

“Damn right, we did.”

“Scuse me for a moment.” Remus rolled down his window and cleared his throat, then leaned out and whooped loud enough that people in the next state would probably be able to hear it. He calmly closed it once more, fighting down a smile. “Sorry, I just had to get that out.”

Sirius slowed and rolled his own window down, sticking his head out into the empty night air. “I got married!” he shouted at the top of his lungs with a wild grin. “I have a husband now! Just thought you should know!”

“Husband,” Remus mused as the car started moving again. “Hmm. I like the sound of that.”

“Me, too.”

[starlightsearches]

Can we get 3 with hux from the flower AU prompts?

Hello friend! Thanks for the prompt, I hope you like it!! 🌹🌸💐🌼🌺🌷🌻

Requests are open ✨

Florist! Armitage Hux x Model! Reader (f)

Warnings: Not really, a little yearning, some slutty narration, it's kind of silly and maybe ooc, but I think that's it.

I've been feeling pretty shitty about myself and my writing over the past few days, and I figured the best way to break myself out of that funk was to write something, even if it was stupid. Sometimes when your brain is telling you that you can't do something, you gotta do it anyway. Let me know what you think, besties!

3. Flowers are often used for photo shoots and Person A gets hired to arrange the flowers for one, but they can’t help getting nervous around the model, Person B from the Flower Shop AU Prompts

Armitage is out of his element.

He's plenty comfortable working with his assistant in the back of the shop, or helping customers as they dither over the size of the arrangements and the available flowers at the counter. But this is madness.

The backstage of the set is absolutely teeming with people, and every single one of them runs past without a glance in his direction, shouting into headsets or flipping through stacks of pages attached to clipboards.

He ventures further, past a few darkened hallways until he finds an occupied room. There's a vanity mirror against the far wall, and a woman sitting in front of it, resting her head on one hand, the other holding a book.

"Excuse me," Armitage knocks gently against the door frame before stepping inside.

You set the book down, greeting him with a smile.

"Hello, are you here for makeup?"

For a moment, Armitage is speechless.

He hadn't noticed your strange apparel when he first caught sight of you, but now he can't seem to look away from the dress you're wearing, a less-than-faithful recreation recreation of a Victorian gown that hangs low on your shoulders and tight around breasts, leaving very little to the imagination.

Is he hallucinating? He's never believed in ghosts before but you do seem like a rather lovely, and strangely familiar, apparition.

Your brows furrow in confusion before you glance down at yourself, eyes going wide like you've forgotten what you were wearing.

"Oh," you exclaim, throwing your head back with a laugh, "it's a period piece were doing today."

"I'm sorry?"

"You laugh again, finding his idiocy endearing instead of annoying, "you're not the makeup artist, are you?"

"The florist."

"I see. We're doing a shoot today, a romance novel cover. Do you read romance novels?"

So that's where he recognized you from. He's seen your face before, many times over. How to Wed a Rascal, Devil's Daughter, Three's a Crowd, and his favorite: Kingdom of Thirst.

He's spent too much of his time—bleary eyed, reading into the late hours of the night—imagining your face, your eyes, the sound of your moans as he devoured book after book, story after story.

But he's not about to tell you that.

"Uh, no, not really," he lies, and you shrug off the answer, turning the seat so that you can face him.

"I've only read a few, and they're alright. The jobs pay well, at least, and they're more fun than most shoots."

He nods, leaning against the door frame in an attempt to appear casual, hoping you'll say more. He likes hearing you talk.

You don't look like yourself in pictures. It's not just the makeup and the editing, although he's sure that has something to do with it. You're much more earnest in person, and surprisingly easy to be around. It's magnetic, your personality, to the point he can’t take his eyes off you. It must be what makes you so great at your job.

"You were looking for a place to put your flowers, right? I can help with that," you say, standing from the chair and moving into the hallway, calling into the empty space, "Hey Stacy!"

The sound of harried footsteps echoes down the corridor, and soon you're greeted by a serious looking woman, dressed in all black with her hair swept up into a ponytail.

"What do you need, babes?" she asks without looking up from her cell phone, "Jack said he'd be here half an hour ago but traffic's got him running late, of course. Shouldn't matter since we're ahead of schedule so far and going for a pretty minimal look this time but I told him to haul ass anyways, traffic laws be damned. Who is this?"

Every word pours out of her mouth without a breath in between, and it's not until she looks up, meeting his eyes that he realizes she's talking about him.

"This is . . ." you turn to look at him expectantly, raising your brows.

"Armitage," he provides, and you nod.

"Right, Armitage," you smile, turning back to Stacy, "and he's got the flower delivery for the shoot today waiting in his car."

Stacy nods, mumbling into her headset. "That's great. I'll have Phil unload them."

Armitage nods, wondering if he should offer to stay and arrange them. It's not something he'd typically do . . . but he's not exactly in a hurry to leave.

Another set of footsteps meets the three of you from the end of the hallway, this time provided by another harried-looking woman, almost in a sprint.

"Bad news, Stacy," she pants when she arrives, out of breath, "Ronan's called in sick. He's got food poisoning."

Stacy groans, and you roll your eyes. "Typical. Did you call somebody else?"

"They're all busy: Theo and Jacob are out of town shooting swim, and Will's best man at a wedding."

"We'll have to call off the shoot, then, won't we?"

You shake your head, defeated. Armitage can't help but feel for you; it's obvious how much work goes into these productions, so much time wasted. Not to mention the six dozen flowers currently dying in the back of his van.

"Not so fast," Stacy holds her hand up, silencing the group. Her eyes land on him, and she chews on the inside of her cheek, thinking.

"It's Armitage, right?" she asks, tapping her finger against her lips, "have you ever . . . modeled before?"

He feels his face grow hot, heart racing, "What? No. Absolutely not."

The other woman catches on, sizing him up herself. "Wait a second, you're right Stacy. He's totally got the look. Those god damn cheekbones could slice through steel. He’s about the same size as Will, too, so costuming wouldn't be a problem. How tall are you? Six foot? Six foot two?"

"No," he steps back, "I won't do it."

You put your hand on his shoulder, begging him with your eyes.

"Please, Armitage. It would really help."

He twists his face into a frown, already feeling his resolve crumbling under your eager gaze.

"Well . . . alright."

The three of you erupt in to cheers. He's absolutely going to regret this.

An hour later—hair done, costumed, and feeling ridiculous—Armitage walks out onto the set.

God, no.

It's a surprisingly faithful recreation—he assumes—sumptuously decorated and absolutely bursting with flowers. That's not the problem.

It's a bedroom, most of the space taken up by a large, dark four-poster, rose petals strewn across its surface. He knows what that means.

Bile rises in his throat, a wave of nausea rolling his stomach. He couldn't do this. There was a reason he read so many romance novels: he liked to imagine he could be someone different, someone charming, passionate, wicked.

Being that person is not in his nature.

Vivian, the costumer, approaches him from behind, startling him.

"You ready?" she asks, gesturing him towards the stage, but he hesitates.

"There's no need to be nervous, hon. Your partner for today? She's a god damn angel, the best of the best. You'll be in good hands . . . or I guess she'll be in your hands."

She laughs at her own joke and pats him gently, wandering away.

He's going to throw up. Or pass out. Or drop dead. He can't handle this.

Then he sees you, gliding in through the doorway. You're sparkling with your makeup and hair done to perfection, your eyes warm and bright, and you're smiling at him. Just for him.

Somebody ushers him towards the set, and you join him, arranging yourself on the bed.

"Nervous?" you ask him, laying down on your elbows, a little too at ease. He doesn't have to answer, he knows you can see it on his face.

You hold out your hand to him, and he takes it, adjusting to the feel of your skin against his. "You don't need to be, it's easy."

You pull without warning, and he falls forward, knees hitting the mattress. His other hand land besides your head, close enough to your face that he could reach out and stroke it, if he wanted to.

"Ready up there?" the photographer yells from across the room, and you give him the thumbs up before slipping in to your proper pose. You place his hand at your waist, tilting up his chin.

"Now furrow your brow a little," you whisper, "and part your lips."

He does as he's told, and soon enough the camera flash sparks in his periphery.

It's not as horrible as he thought it would be, although you are doing most of the work. You shift periodically, sometimes staring deep into his eyes, or looking down demurely with your hand just barely grazing your forehead.

"Alright, that's great, that's perfect," the photographer monologues, never taking his eye from the viewfinder, "why don't we get a couple with your lips at her neck?'

He trembles, his breathing shallow, but you look up at him with the slightest nod, arching your back just a little farther, leaving your skin exposed and inviting.

He bends closer, examining the graceful lines of your body. If this were real, where would he kiss you? If he had you to himself—without all these people watching—in his own bed, no pretense, no costumes . . .

He brushes his lips tenderly against the junction between your neck and your shoulder, and he swears that he can hear you sigh in response, your spine curving against his fingers, your chest pressed tighter against his own.

"That's perfect," the photographer shouts, but Armitage isn't listening, entirely preoccupied with the feeling of your pulse against his mouth, his lips traveling up over your jaw, stopping just below your ear.

You turn to face him, slowly, until nose brushes his, staring into his eyes. If he tilted his chin just half an inch, he'd be kissing you.

"That's great, everybody! I think we're done for today."

The set erupts with applause at the photographer's words, but you still don't pull away from him, smiling gently, whispering against his lips.

"Like I said, you're a natural."

His face grows flush, and he shifts back onto his feet, clearing his throat with a cough.

You stand beside him, brushing your hands nervously over the bodice of your gown.

"Thanks again for doing this, we all really appreciate it."

"Of course, it was . . . fun."

"No really, it was a huge favor. I'd like to do something for you, in return—we could get dinner, maybe? My treat."

You place your hand on his arm again, stroking your thumb down over his elbow. Despite how much he's touched you over the last hour, this contact feels different. Because you're not playing a part this time. Because it's him you're reaching for.

"We can change first, of course," you say, the words rushed as you read his dewy-eyed imaginings for hesitation.

He smiles, placing his hand over yours in reassurance, "I'd like that."

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[votederpycausemufins]

for the longest time my brain just did not want to write. but then two scenes came to mind and bam, chapter!

and as always

@petrichormeraki​

Wilbur showed up like he was arriving at a party. In a sense he was since Dream was taken down and he was going to see Tommy again. Dream may have revived him, but even that wasn’t going to convince Wil to help the tyrant. When he reached Philza and Techno, he was surprised to see no sign of Tommy. “So, where is he?”

“Tommy? He’s showing off his base to Tubbo.” Grian spoke up, making Wilbur notice him. His parrot wings were folded tightly so they couldn’t be seen, which was perfect for him. "Hey, you got something in your hair.”

Wilbur patted his head. “What, my hat?”

Grian shook his head and put a blue feather there. “It’s right there.”

“I can feel you put something there.” Wilbur pulled the feather out. “Don’t need you-” He stopped talking once he actually looked at the feather.

“Hey look, I’ve got one too.” Techno said pointing at the yellow feather placed behind his ear.

“No.” Wilbur sounded dumbfounded and looked back at Grian, who now had a red feather stuck in his own hair.

“Alright, let’s go see Tommy.” Grian spoke nonchalantly before Wilbur grabbed him.

“Oh no you don’t! You don’t just get to drop that bombshell on us and walk away!”

Grian laughed. “What, missed me?”

“Yes! Where the fuck were you?”

“Oh, here and there. How are you doing being alive again.”

“Less violent than I was before dying I suppose.”

“Good! But I’m still not letting you near Tommy.” When Wilbur tried to say something, Grian stopped him. “Nope, you can’t argue. I’m oldest now.”

“What the fuck to you mean, I’m a minute older than you bird boy.”

“Not anymore, I’m now in my thirties.”

“Wh- How?!”

Philza put a hand on Wilbur’s shoulder. “We can talk more when we meet back up with Tommy.”

“Yeah, we can visit his base hermit cribs style. I’ll grab my backup elytra and some rockets!” Grian ducked into a shop to use their ender chest. “Oh yeah, are you guys okay with rockets? Because Tommy told me Tubbo doesn’t like them. They won’t explode or anything, they’re just to help you with flying. Obviously dad and I won’t need them, but uh, you guys don’t have wings.”

“I’ll take them.” Wilbur said. Techno was less eager, but did also accept the elytra.

As Grian was about to take off with his family, Scar cleared his throat to get their attention. “Now Grian, while I am glad that you have found the family you lost, I am still very serious about that paperwork. I have different forms for if they’re planning to stay permanently or if they’re just going to visit often. I can send the paperwork to your mansion if you want though if you just want to come to town hall right now, we can do it there.”

“Scar, right now I want to talk with my family and figure out what we’re doing. We can’t really sign paperwork if we don’t know which paperwork to sign, right?”

Scar nodded in agreement. “Alright, I’ll send it to the mansion then. Also about the other people visiting.”

Grian flapped his wings to quickly get into the air. “Sorry Scar too far away can’t hear you byeeeee!”

On the ground, Phil sighed, though he was smiling. “I guess this means we better start flying. Let’s get up higher for an easier take off.”

Though it took an attempt or two, the avian lineage seemed to help Techno and Wilbur get the hang of using elytra extremely fast. Though in the air, Grian hadn’t flown too far and the others easily caught up with him. He guided them to the south west towards where Tommy’s base was. 

As it came into view, Grian couldn’t help but laugh as he heard a gasp from behind. They landed in front of the arch acting as a doorway on the ground floor to find Tommy leaning against it. “Took long enough dickheads.”

Grian was about to jokingly scold Tommy when Wilbur went to hug and or lovingly bully his younger brother. Tommy waved his arms in an attempt to get Wil to stop, but he kept running towards Tommy. Just before he could reach the blond, he was tackled to the ground from the side by Grian.

“Grian! I was joking! It was going to be fine!” Tommy complained, helping to pull the avian off Wilbur. “You don’t have to keep mothering me! Stress does that plenty!”

“It’s not my fault I wore the chicken mask that long.”

“That is entirely your fault! And wearing a mask that long doesn’t change anything.”

Tommy and Grian continued to playfully argue until Philza caught their attention. “Oh right, forgot we had meetings to get to. Hey Tommy, which floor do you think is best for talking about all this.”

Tommy put a hand on his chin. “Hmmm, how about the sixth floor? I mean, that one is based on the smp.”

“Sounds great!” Grian said before flying up there, leaving the others behind.

“Hey! No fair!” Tommy shouted up. “Some of us have to use rockets to fly! Ugh fine we’re taking the bubble stream.”

Entering the tower, the first floor was just completely made of cobble. It was his favorite block and all, so if he was going to mainly use the first floor, that was the design he wanted. There were also a number of chests placed around to the point that it had become a bit of a chest monster. Wilbur couldn’t help but be curious and opened one chest, eyes widening at the contents. “This is filled with diamond tools and armor! You’re just leaving it here?”

Tommy looked over to what Wil was referring to. “What? Oh, that’s from endbusting. It’s all cursed gear. You should have seen the time I caught Joe afk and gave him a set of binding diamond armor. I’m not sure how he didn’t notice right away, but the moment I mentioned I liked his armor, he jumped in the nearest lava pool.”

“Really? Other than the curses, this seems like it’s pretty good?”

“Not really. No one is really stealing from each other so everyone’s got great gear. Besides, part of the prank was giving Joe diamond gear. He apparently said he wasn’t going to use diamonds this world and burns them when he gets them.”

“He just burns diamonds?!”

“Yeah.” Tommy shrugged, then walked over to one of many bubble columns. “Here, this one goes to the sixth floor. You guys go first. I want to make sure you go in it and not the others. I’ll show off my shit hermitcribs style later.”

When they got off the bubble elevator, it was something that was recognized immediately. The floor was made of grass and one wall was missing and looking right at the now setting sun. In the middle of the room was a simple bench and a jukebox.

“Your bench.” Wilbur spoke up, making Tommy nod.

“Yeah. There’s also one in the shopping district. That’s for more public stuff. I’ll just be hanging on the bench and other hermits can show up to talk about shit. This one’s for more private stuff like this.”

“Or for letting me cuddle with you.” Grian poked his head up from the other side of the bench. 

Tommy’s face turned a shade of red. “We do not cuddle!”

“Then what do you call what we do when you’ve had a long day and need me to come over so you can use my wings as a blanket.”

“Hanging out. Cuddling makes it sound weird.” Tommy crossed his arms.

Grian just tackled Tommy and wrapped him in his wings. “You’re not allowed out until you admit it!”

“Never bird bitch!”

He rubbed the feathers against Tommy’s face. “Say iiit!” Tommy just plucked a feather out making Grian pull back. “Ow! You didn’t have to do that!”

“I thought you wanted us to talk as a family or some shit.”

Grian rolled his eyes, but did nod. “Yeah, you’re right.” And then he sat down on the ground across from the bench. The others found their own places to sit and just sat there in silence for a few moments before Wilbur started the conversation.

“So, you changed your name then huh? Everyone’s calling you Grian.”

Grian nodded. “Yeah, I started using it back when I was in the orphanage and legally changed it when I was eighteen. Though it took a while with the criminal record.”

“I’m sorry, your what?” Philza asked sternly, but Grian just shrugged.

“Yeah I sort of murdered some people. I probably could have found a way around it, but at the time, it was the best answer I had. And I didn’t really have a good support system. I mean, I had friends, but how are you supposed to tell them you have voices in your head telling you what to do when they’re already not the best people themselves.”

Philza rubbed his forehead. “How bad?”

“Well…”

“No, nevermind. I don’t want to know.”

“So, you’re a Watcher?” Techno spoke up in a monotone voice.

Grian used enough of his power to make a third eye appear for a second before making it disappear again. “Yeah, whatever took me from you guys happened again and dropped me off in a world that was like, so many years in the past. I actually got dropped there with a lot of people and the Watchers sort of played around with us. Nothing as bad as what Dream seemed to be doing, just puzzles and cryptic clues and portals everywhere to push us forward in time when they saw fit. Eventually they convinced me to join them.”

“Just like that?” Techno raised an eyebrow.

“Nah, I was a real pain in their side for loads of time before they finally asked me to join. I’m pretty sure it was because it was because that was the one way to get me to stop messing around.” Grian laughed at his own joke before looking sadly at the floor. “First thing I did was start looking for you guys. I assumed you would still be in the castle or somewhere nearby, but the place was abandoned. And it’s harder to find someone when you don’t know what world they’re in.”

Philza started to reach for Grian, but the younger avian’s wings started to puff up in agitation. “You know, I don’t know if I should be happy that I found you or upset. I could have never figured out where you guys were unless I got lucky peering into worlds. Only reason I found out was because Tommy came here. And he only came here because he ended up in a dangerous world with no family helping him. And you nearly took him back there.”

Tommy put a hand on one of Grian’s wings, making him puff up even more. “Hey, calm down Big G. You made sure they couldn’t do that. And if they do try, just knock some sense into them.”

Grian calmed down, though there was still tension in the room and no one spoke. The first thing that broke the silence was a yell from above them. “Tommy! How do you get down? I don’t have a water bucket on me!”

Tommy jumped up from where he was sitting. “Oh shit! I’ll be right there Tubbo!” And Tommy jumped out the window. Grian waited a moment before asking the others to look behind them, which they did just in time for all of them to see Tommy making a face at them all as he went up the bubble stream. A few moments later, Tubbo was going down a different bubble elevator and then Tommy glided in through the window. “Sorry, I keep the down one closed off so the bees don’t wander their way into it on a suicide mission. Tubbo couldn’t find it and obviously he’s not flying around.”

“Can you actually ask him to come up here? I want to say something that involves him.”

“Got it.” Tommy leaned out the window. “Hey Tubbo! Come back up here! Use the one with green glass!”

A moment later, Tubbo exited onto the floor. Tommy pushed Wilbur off the bench to make room for Tubbo to sit. “Hey! How are you so strong!”

Tommy gestured at the room around them. “I mean, I got help from some of the hermits for the interior, but the exterior was all me. I mined tons of shit looking for diamonds and I used it for here. I mean, I also got some help with the flag on top, but otherwise, all seventeen floors were built by me.”

“Seventeen floors?!”

“I know, they’re all as tall as this one so it’s small as fuck. Only big one is the top since I didn't waste an extra ceiling with the roof there.”

“You should do what Tango did last season and add a dragon or two.”

“Nah, might just start making a castle to pair up with it.”

“Tommy! What the fuck!” Tubbo said suddenly. “How did you get so good?!”

“It’s just sort of how we do stuff here on Hermitcraft.” Grian answered. “You were at Iskall’s tree right? That’s his base. He got us to help collect the leaves, but he’s been placing it all.” Tubbo just looked like his head was about to explode. “Anyway, I wanted Tommy to call you here because I didn’t get the chance to tell you. You’re the admin of the smp now.”

“I’m what?!”

“I figured after all I’ve heard about you from Tommy, you would be safe to turn into the admin. Obviously it can be moved to someone else, but you were the first choice.”

“I can’t be the admin! What if I end up like Dream?! I already wasn’t the best at being president! What if I screw up and they put me in pandora’s vault too!”

Tommy hugged Tubbo. “You were a great president, you just had to deal with bad people. And they’re not going to put you in some stupid fucking vault for a mistake.”

“And if they do, we call in Mumbo. Speaking of him, I should call him over.” Grian pulled out his communicator and hit the call button for Mumbo, putting it on speaker for the fun of it. When the redstoner answered, Grian spoke in a dramatic and joking tone into the microphone. “Mumbo. Babe. Light of my life. Father of our children.-”

Though Grian sounded like he was going to continue, a tired sounding Mumbo came through to stop him. “What do you need Grian?”

“We’re at Tommy’s base. Can you come over and meet everyone?”

“I was already planning on finding you. I’m of course on Grian watching duty after that stunt you pulled. I would have already shown up but the redstone blocks finally needed replacing.”

“Remember to bring scaffolding. You know water and redstone don’t mix.”

“I’m well aware. Bye Grian.” And Mumbo hung up.

Grian and Tommy explained more of everything on Hermitcraft and answered more questions while they all waited for Mumbo. Finally there was the distinct noise of scaffolding being placed and they saw a tower appear in front of the window and then keep going up. From below, they could hear Mumbo talking to someone else he had brought along. “You don’t need that much. Grian said they’re only on the sixth floor.”

“But I want to see Tubbee! Tubbee Tubbee Tubbee!”

“You can see Tubbee later. C’mon, let’s see Grian first.”

After the talking stopped, up the scaffolding came what looked to be a small child. Behind them was someone a bit taller, but obviously still young, and last was a man in a black suit and a mustache.

“Dad!” The smallest one ran over and jumped at Grian. Wilbur looked between Grian and the kid.

“Wait, so that wasn’t a joke. You actually have kids?”

“Well you have Fundy. I have these two. Meet Grumbot and Jrumbot.” 

Wilbur opened his mouth again with a sly smirk. “Is he any good?” and then added in a wink.

When he realized what was being implied, Mumbo’s face turned a bright red and he tried talking but it was all flustered stuttering. Grian has a similar though not as pronounced reaction to the question. Jrumbot looked between his dads confused while Grumbot looked at Wilbur. “My brother and I were merely built and are powered by redstone. We have no organic parts. Our dads are not together and thus have not had se-”

“GRUMBOT!”

[fallingappleshurt]

My Best Friend in Blue

Hey so the creator of this AU is @antarctic-bay !! It’s really amazing and I want to say that I things I write are not canon! And my writing style is very weird in this I am so sorry, I can’t form cohesion sentences for shit

That being said take this shit

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

My Best Friend in Blue

Techno didn’t have a lot of friends growing up, it wasn’t something that really upset him, he had his brothers and everyone else was either annoying or just didn’t seem to like him. He didn’t care, he was perfectly fine on his own, he was quiet, more reserved with a cold demeanor, loud things were distracting and got on his nerves, so how’d he end up with this guy?

It started when he was 10, he was at the park with his brothers, Wilbur was on the swings, Tommy was on the playground equipment and Phil was making sure Tommy didn’t fall off of said playground equipment and Techno wasn’t sure what to do so he wandered the park until he heard a loud voice say,

“I can SO do magic! Just watch!” Techno looked over to see someone his age, dressed all in blue, chest puffed out. He stood in front of two other kids, Techno stopped to watch. The boy pulled off his bright blue beanie, it had a stupid face scribbled on it with marker.

“I’m going to make this hat,” He paused dramatically, “Disappear!”

He spun in a circle, throwing the hat behind himself before stopping in front of his friends, waving his hands, “See! Magic!”

One of the blue boy’s friends gasped but Techno just rolled his eyes. “You didn’t make it disappear, you just threw it behind you,” He pointed out, crossing his arms. The boy whipped his head around rapidly before spotting and making direct eye contact with Techno.

“No! I made it disappear! You’re probably just jealous you can’t do it!” He said, voice raising slightly.

“No you didn’t and I’m not, you just threw it over there,” Techno said,not unkindly, pointing to where the hat laid, bits of mulch stuck to it.

“No! It- I was-Ah!” The boy frowned before yelling, “Shut up!”

Techno just raised an eyebrow and walked away.

He had started fifth grade, walking into school everyone told him that the fifth graders were the oldest at the school so they were the role models, they had to set good examples for the younger kids. That made Techno think of Tommy, he wondered what stupid thing his little brother was doing. The teacher told them to find the desk with their name and sit down.

The desks were arranged in groups of 4, Techno found his and sat down, fidgeting nervously. He took a deep breath, trying not to let his anxiety get the better of him, he decided to look at the names of the people who would be sitting around him.

‘Milo’ was in front of him, ‘Hannah’ was next to him and diagonally was someone named ‘Skeppy’. Milo, Hannah, Skeppy. He repeated the mantra in his head, maybe they would get along, maybe he could make friends.

His thoughts were interrupted by a familiar loud voice and a chair screeching across the tile, it was the blue boy from the park. Of course it was, why wouldn’t it be. He sat at the desk with the name tag ‘Skeppy’ and he was still wearing a blue shirt and the beanie with the scribbled on face.

Techno froze and looked at his desk, refusing to look up, his anxiety spiked. He wanted to make friends but this would definitely ruin it, Skeppy would tell the others what he said and how much of a jerk he was, why did he say that at the park? He was so stupid, Skeppy wasn’t doing anything wrong, he was so stupid, this is why he didn’t have any friends-

He was ripped from his spiral by other voices, Milo and Hannah had sat down and Skeppy was introducing himself. Techno took a breath, made a fist and started running his thumb across his knuckles, maybe if he just laid low, Skeppy wouldn’t notice. His plan worked for like two minutes before Skeppy said, “Is that a pink pencil case?”

Techno jerked up as Skeppy leaned over his own desk to look at Techno’s, “That’s so cool! It reminds me of my friend-”

Techno just sat there in shock as Skeppy babbled on about his pencil case, unsure on what to do. Skeppy continued until he made eye contact with Techno.

“Wait, you’re that kid from the park! The one that doesn’t believe in magic!”

Milo and Hannah gave him a weird look, not cruel, just confused. Techno didn’t know what to do, he just quietly stammered it was barely more than a whisper. The desk clump stayed like that until the Teacher started talking loudly, Techno wrapped his arms around himself, feeling nauseous.

This was going to be a long year.

For the first few weeks of school he barely talked to the other students, he didn’t see the point, he answered questions in class and finished most of his work early, gaining the quiet, smart kid title from the rest of his class. His teacher had told him if he kept this up he could make it into honors classes in middle school. So even if he didn’t have any friends, he still had that going for him.

Until the dreaded;

“And for this assignment you are going to need a partner!”

Hannah and Milo reached across their desks to shake hands, so both of them were out. Techno bit his lip and stayed seated for a moment, before getting up to ask the teacher if he could work alone.

“No, this is a partnered assignment, could you not find a partner?”

Techno shook his head then immediately wanted to die as the teacher did that thing where she loudly asked who didn’t have a partner, basically broadcasting to the class that he was a friendless idiot.

She didn’t say that exactly but he knew she was thinking it.

“Okay, look, go work with Skeppy, you guys should make a good team!” Techno nodded and swore under his breath, apparently the universe just wanted him to suffer.

He walked back over to his desk only to find that Milo was sitting there and had pushed his stuff over so he could work with Hannah.

“Just take my desk for now, since you’re working with Skeppy,” Milo said, before going back to work.

Techno sat down stiffly as Skeppy looked him up and down, “Look I don’t want to work with you and you probably feel the same way so let's just do this on our own, okay?We can just turn it in at the same time.”

Techno nodded slowly, turning to his own paper, it was a math worksheet, he breezed through it effortlessly.

Techno had finished half of the first page in about five minutes, he looked over to see Skeppy still struggling on the first problem.

“You’re still on the first one?” Techno asked, trying not to sound rude.

“Yes! Shut up! Not everyone is as smart as you so just shut up!” Skeppy snapped, erasing aggressively.

“The teacher explained it though,”

“Yeah well the teacher did a bad job!” Skeppy stuck his hands in his hair, tugging at it.

Techno gently laid a hand on Skeppy’s shoulder, “Do you want help?”

“No from yo- Yes!- But- I don’t know!” Skeppy snapped.

“Here let me see,” Techno looked at Skeppy’s paper, he looked over the work before saying, “You’re dividing too early.”

“What?”

“You’re dividing too early, you gotta add this part first, then divide,” Techno said, pointing to the different parts of the equation.

Skeppy moved slowly, then started on the problem, solved it, then looked at Techno nervously, “Did I do it right?”

Techno scanned his work then nodded, “Yeah!”

“Wait really?”

“Yeah! You did it!”

“That’s awesome! I can’t believe it!”

Techno grinned, maybe this year wouldn’t be so bad.

He grunted as the same jackass from his class ‘bumped’ into him again, making him drop his stuff.

“Heh, my bad!” Jacob, the jackass, said in his stupid cocky voice, then continued down the hall as Techno stared daggers into his back, he wasn’t allowed to swear at school and he was supposed to be a role model, those were the only things stopping him from cussing the taller boy out.

It was the next day as he walked down the hall, he could hear Jacob’s shoes squeak against the tile, Techno tightened his hold on his things, bracing himself only to see Jacob flop on the floor next to him.

Techno jumped back, surprised as Jacob groaned, he looked to see Skeppy standing behind him, adjusting his beanie.

“Heh, my bad.” He said grinning at Jacob, then he looked up, “Come on Techno we’re gonna be late!” And with that, they took off, Techno smiling softly to himself. This was just the start of a blooming friendship.

He was walking to the middle school with Tommy to wait for Wilbur, when Tommy asked, “Are and that loud kid with the blue hat friends?” Techno thought about it for a moment, then “Yeah, he’s my friend,”

Tommy gave him a weird look, “That doesn’t make sense!”

“How so?”

Tommy looked deep in thought then declared loudly, “No wait it does! Because you like pink and he likes blues, so even if you guys are opposites your colors look nice together so it still works!”

“Really? That’s how you judge friendships? By each person’s favorite color?” Techno asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah! That’s how me and Tubbo are such good friends! Red and Green just go well together!”

“Okay, whatever you say.”

“Yes! Whatever I say!”

They were 12.

“You’re seriously telling me that you don’t know how to play kickball? When you live with that little ball of energy?”

“I don’t hang out with him and his friends,” Techno defended himself, “Okay I gotta teach you how to play, come on!”

“Can you help me with this worksheet?”

“Of course.”

“You haven’t seen that movie? How? It’s a classic!”

“I don’t know!”

“I can’t believe you actually dyed your hair blue!”

“I know right! I’m so happy my mom finally let me!”

They were 13.

“I don’t know Skeppy, he just gives me weird vibes, there is something off about him!”

“There is nothing wrong with him! You’re just jealous of the fact that I have been sending more time with him!”

“I’m not jealous of that nerd! I’m just trying to warn you!”

“I hate to be the one to break it to you Techno, but you are not God, you don’t know everything even though everyone tells you do you! I’m not going to stop hanging out with him! He’s my friend!”

“I don’t think that, jackass! I just want you to know-”

“I don’t care! Now if you don’t mind, I’m going to go hang out with my friends!” And with that he was gone.

Techno was quietly fuming, which made the walk home with his brothers hell, his whole demeanor was angry. He walked quickly and quietly, glaring daggers at anyone who dared to look at him.

They were half way home then Wilbur joked;

“Listen, I know you broke up with your boyfriend or whatever but could you atleast-”

“Shut up Wilbur!” Techno snapped back, Wilbur actually jumped. He looked between Techno and Tommy nervously.

“Okay, wow, I’m sorry geez, just trying to lighten the mood,” He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, “Touched a nerve there,”

They were still friends, of course they were, but they didn’t spend as much time together, Techno focused on school, his classes were harder now and Skeppy had gotten a job and spent more time with Bad and some other guy that gave Techno weird vibes.

They still talked. They were still friends.

They could never not be.

They were 14.

“You dyed your hair pink?”

“No, my brothers did as a prank.”

“It looks amazing!”

“..Thank you..”

“Look at us! Pink and Blue buddies!”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right, Pink and Blue do go together nicely.”

They were 15.

Techno was working on homework when he got a call from Tommy, who was at a practice.

“Hey man, uh, Skeppy is sitting on the roof of the school, I don’t think he’s gonna do anything stupid but he won’t respond to anyone else, even when we throw stuff up there.”

“Is he okay?”

“I’m not sure, he won’t answer me, but he’ll probably talk to you,”

“Probably, okay, thanks for telling me, I’ll be right there.” He hung up before hearing Tommy's response and pulled on his shoes before starting heading towards the school.

He had heard rumors at school. Skeppy’s former friend, spreading rumors and other things about him, lies, trying to ruin his reputation. Techno had debunked and told everyone he could otherwise but that damage had been done.

He rushed around the school until he found Tommy, who pointed at the roof, “He’s up there!”

“Thanks for calling me,” Techno scanned the building, “I need to get up there.”

“Well I don’t know how he got up there but what if we got on the dumpster and I boosted you, you might be able to get up there.” Tommy suggested, Techno nodded, not taking his eyes off the roof, “Yeah lets try that.”

Both of the brothers climbed onto the dumpster, Tommy cupped his hands together and boosted Techno who grabbed the ledge of the building, pulling himself up.

“Thanks Tommy!” and with that he set off across the roof, looking for his friend.

Techno found him sitting on a vent, looking across the horizon. He didn't move as Techno sat down next to him. They sat in silence for awhile until Skeppy said;

“You were right.”

“That doesn’t matter,”

Techno put an arm around his shoulder. They sat in silence, staring at the sky.

“I thought he was my friend.”

“He acted like he was,”

“I’m such an idiot,”

“No you’re not.”

“I can’t believe I defended him,”

“It’s not your fault.”

Skeppy leaned into him, “Thank you, for being here.”

“Of course, we’re friends.”

Skeppy laughed lightly, “Yeah, Blue and Pink.”

Techno smiled softly,Blue and Pink always went so nicely together.

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

“Hey Skeppy?”

“Yeah?”

“How are we gonna get down?”

“Oh shit-”

[pparkerpoetry]

Face Reality (part 17)

Title: Touch my Wings (and watch as they melt from the sun)

Summary: Ranboo is healing. Tommy is not.

Phil finally comes face-to-face with his consequences.

Chapter One

Chapter Eighteen

Masterlist

_____________ It was a few weeks later when Technoblade walked into the living room and plopped down on a chair, a heavy book clutched in his hold. It was still fairly dusty, but by the look of the worm pages, it used to be much dustier.

Ranboo looked up from where he was reading. “Hey, Technoblade.” His shoulders didn’t tense up, his voice didn’t waver. He wasn’t completely comfortable, but his body didn’t scream at him to run. It wasn’t perfect, but it was progress, and that was what was important.

“Just the hybrid I was looking for,” Technoblade greeted back. “I’ve found you some answers.”

There was a pause. “Answers to what?” Ranboo racked his memory, but couldn’t for the life of him remember ever asking Technoblade anything.

“Answers to why you had more than one thin day in a row?”

Ranboo’s eyebrows furrowed as he thought about that. “Techno,” he asked hesitantly, “how much sleep have you gotten in the past few weeks while you’ve been researching?”

An uneasy chuckle was the only answer that he got.

“Techno,” he said a little more forcefully, a little more harsh. “How much sleep.”

The piglin snorted. “Not a lot. But that doesn’t matter-”

“Yes it does!” Ranboo protested. “You can’t just let yourself waste away, Techno.”

“How else am I supposed to show that I care?” he responded defensively.

It was quiet for a beat. “You care?”

Techno looked at Ranboo and nodded. “Of course I do. I know that we don’t have a good past, but… you’ve made me more human, you and Phil. I cry more, I feel remorse for the lives I’ve taken or almost taken, I have emotions now. I’m not all the way good, but I’m getting there, and I’m sorry that it took you almost dying for me to realize that I wasn’t on the good side.”

Neither knew what to say. 

“Well.” Techno said. “About my research.”

“Yeah, yeah, your research.” Ranboo nodded, leaning forward. 

“This book was a whole lot of nonsense, but there were some good passages.” Techno explained. “Basically, thin days are more than just a thing hybrids go through. It’s kind of like a bonding moment that makes you stronger, if that makes sense, but it only happens when the hybrid part of you feels safe, so for instance, you guys all feel safe here. And, families tend to have thin days near each other because when other hybrids are there, your hybrid is reassured that it's safe.”

Ranboo nodded. “So, since I haven’t, uh. Since I haven’t really had a thin day on this server…”

“You never felt safe enough to. And, since you never have them, your enderman side is desperate to develop. So, when your non-enderman side wants to take the wheel, it can’t.”

“That makes sense, I guess.” Ranboo shrugged. “Oh, have you heard from Kristin recently?”

Techno winced. “Yeah. She hasn’t quite warmed back up to me yet, but I think she’s out flying with Purpled. There aren’t people dying because of wars right now, so she’s got free time.”

As if on cue, Death and Purpled walked in. Purpled was running around excitedly, and his wings flared out behind him.

“Ranboo!” He greeted, running a hand through his unruly hair.

“Purpled!” Ranboo returned. “Have fun?”

“Yeah! My wings are so cool, and they’re purple, so they match my brand-”

“Those are blue, though.” Techno interjected.

Ranboo squinted. “No, those are purple. I don’t know what you’re seeing, Techno.”

Tommy strolled in to see what the commotion was about. “What’re we arguing about? I’m right, and you are all wrong.”

“What color are my wings?” Purpled asked.

“I dunno, blue?”

They never came to a conclusion, or maybe they did. Tommy didn’t stick around to find out, though. He was hungry, so he rifled through the pantry to find something to snack on. 

“Hey, Tommy.”

He turned. “Oh, hey Fundy. How’s the castle repairs going?”

The fox smiled. “They’re going really well, actually. Eret has a bunch of rooms in it if you guys ever want to visit.”

“Pog!” Tommy said. “Are you going to stay there or here? I mean, it doesn’t really matter, but have you thought about it?”

Fundy hesitated. “I was thinking about staying with Eret, actually. Do you think Sam will be mad?”

“Of course not,” Tommy reassured. “Just don’t be a stranger. We’ll come visit you, too. I promise. Next week, maybe? Tomorrow?”

“Whenever.” Fundy said, clearly feeling better. “I’m going to go find Sam. Thanks.”

“No problem,” Tommy responded, turning back to his hunt for snacks as he listened to the fading footsteps.

Another pair approached him.

“Hey mate.” Phil said, getting a glass of water.

Tommy tensed. “Hey.”

Phil was about to leave, then sucked in a breath. “Tommy, your wings look awful. Whose been preening them?”

“Whoever is nearby. I think they do fine,” Tommy said defensively. 

“They could use some work,” Phil insisted. “Why don’t you let me preen them? Everyone’s out of the living room.”

Was that meant to reassure him? That no one was there to act as a buffer? As much as Tommy wanted to forgive Phil, he knew Ranboo would, too easily. He needed to be cautious because Ranboo forgave too quickly, and yeah, maybe he was also hiding from the hurt that he felt because of Phil by focusing on Ranboo’s, but…

Phil looked so hopeful.

He didn’t want to, he really didn’t, but the words tumbled out of his mouth before he could stop them. “I guess, yeah.”

It all felt so wrong, sitting down on the floor to let Phil touch his wings. They wanted to fold up and refuse to open, but Tommy forced them to stretch out. He grimaced as Phil announced he’d be starting, and hoped that it would feel nice. Preening always felt nice, right?

Phil put a hand on one of Tommy’s wings, and it took everything in him to not swat it away. It felt irritating, like a piece of sand between your toes or a snarl in your hair as you tried to brush it out. It was bearable, though, and if it made Phil happy, then it was worth it. 

It was bonding, right?

Then, it got worse. Phil’s fingertips left the feathers aching a little bit, almost stinging, and Tommy shifted a little. It was fine. He could deal with it. Phil was probably almost done, right?

Phil asked him if he was okay, and he grunted. The pain got worse. It hurt, it hurt so bad, and whereas preening usually felt nice and lulled him to sleep, this time it felt like when you stub your toe. Except it was his entire wing.

It only got worse. He wanted it to end, but he was scared that if he opened his mouth, he’d vomit. The nausea gathered in his stomach and crawled up his throat, forcing him to ignore the stabbing feeling that happened whenever Phil touched his wing. 

He just had to deal with a little more. Phil was done with the edges, it was time for the part that always felt the best when Sam or somebody else preened his wings. It would feel good, right?

It didn’t. He exhaled slowly, feeling the tears gather in his eyes. He wanted it to stop, but if he said anything, he knew he would start crying. It hurt so bad, so incredibly bad, and he just sat there. 

Phil was humming happily, and Tommy nearly yelled at him to stop. Everything was so much more… annoying, suddenly. The humming was too loud, his shirt was too itchy, his leg wasn’t positioned comfortably, his throat hitched with every breath. He hated it.

After a particularly bent feather was corrected, Tommy cried out a little bit. 

“...Tommy?” Phil asked. “Are you alright?”

“Please stop.” He managed to choke out, and the hands on his wings were lifted away almost immediately. He managed to stumble out of the room before the tears started to fall, but he didn’t miss the way that Phil’s disappointed, almost betrayed, gaze burned his back.

Tommy went down the hall and found Ranboo in the bedroom. “Ranboo,” He called out, and hesitated.

“What happened?” Ranboo asked. “Are you okay?”

Tommy shook his head, and the tears fell quicker now, accompanied by a few desperate chirps and hiccups. 

“Oh, Tommy,” Ranboo said, patting the bed. “Come here, Do you want to talk about it?”

He flopped onto the covers and buried his head in a pillow. “Phil tried to preen my wings. I let him, because he just looked so hopeful that we were going to finally be family again, but it just-” A small trill interrupted his rambling before he picked back up, “It felt so wrong, and then it started to hurt, and Ranboo it hurt so bad, and I thought I was going to barf, and-” He continued slower this time. “What if that’s just how preening feels? What if every time I need to take care of my wings, it hurts? What if I never can feel that safe again?”

“Do you want me to try?” Ranboo asked softly. “I’ll stop as soon as you tell me to, I promise.”

Tommy thought for a minute, but nodded. “Please?”

His body slumped with relief as soon as Ranboo started petting the feathers and before he knew it, he was purring. He mumbled out something, and Ranboo must’ve taken that to mean stop.

Tommy whined and pushed his wing back against Ranboo’s hand. “Don’t stop. It feels nice.”

“Okay, Tommy.” Ranboo chuckled, and started the preening again. 

“We should take a vacation to see Fundy,” Tommy hummed.

Ranboo nodded, and responded. “Yeah, I haven’t seen Niki in a while. When do you wanna go?” It was silent. “Tommy?”

Tommy was fast asleep, his face content and relaxed. Ranboo smiled, and stayed with him until he woke up.

Phil, however, had gone back to his house with Techno that they’d built not far from Sam’s base. He sat by the window, unmoving, until Techno came in for the night.

“Phil? Are you okay?”

He turned his head to look at Techno and shook his head. 

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“I-” His throat was dry. “I offered to preen Tommy’s wings because they looked like they needed it, and I thought it would be a good bonding time. It went okay, but then he made a noise and asked if he was okay, and- and my touch hurt him, Techno. I’m not- Not only does he not consider me part of his flock, not even deep down, but my touch hurts him.” He rested his head in his hands. “When did I fail so bad?”

Techno didn’t say anything.

Phil ignored the tears that gathered in his eyes. “Maybe Kristin was right that I didn’t feel bad, yet. I didn’t realize, really, the impact of my actions, but now- Techno, how do I fix this?”

Techno looked back to meet Phil’s teary gaze. “You do the best that you can, Phil, and if Tommy still can’t forgive you, then you live with it.”

“I just live with it?”

Techno shrugged. “What else can we do?”

[thecheesiestcheese23]

pink-dyed hair

tw : major character death ( it’s the basis of the story )

____________

The death of Kristin was unexpected to all of them. It was a normal day for the five of them, although Kristin had a cough she passed off as a common cold. Perhaps that was it, maybe it was something more than just that, but they just couldn’t figure it out. She had just passed away in her sleep for no apparent reason, and that hit like a punch to the gut.

It hit everyone equally hard, especially after they buried her body and had to say their final goodbyes. It was like it was finalizing her death with her being buried six feet under.

The house was quiet for once, with everyone mourning and out in an attempt to distract themselves. However, that left Technoblade alone in the house.

Techno was curled up in his bed, his brown hair surrounding him like a waterfall, blocking him from the outside world, and, he hoped, from the death of his mother. But no amount of denying what happened would ever bring back his mother, no matter how much he wished for one last hug.

Still, there had to be shopping done, so Technoblade moved himself up from his cocoon of blankets and pillows and rubbed the dried tears off of his cheeks. He sniffled a couple times once he finally got up from his bed and threw on a ( probably stained ) hoodie and threw his greasy hair into a ponytail.

The store would be a ways walk from his house, but Techno couldn’t bring himself to care. Maybe the burning pain in his calves would distract him from her death for at least a little bit.

________________

The walk to the store, as expected, was long and tiring.

Techno was now looking through the isles, looking like a mess as he picked up strawberries and placed them back down. The list was shoved in his pocket, most likely crinkled beyond repair now, but he already had most of it memorized so there was really no need for him to pull it back out.

Fruits and vegetables were thrown into the basket along with some steak for that night’s dinner.

‘Mom would’ve loved to have this for dinner,’ Techno thought, examining the steak.

He knew that it was bad to think like that, but he missed his mom so goddamn much.

With a sigh, he placed the second steak in the shopping cart and pushed onwards, traversing through the isles. Colors passed in a blur, Techno not stopping to take them in as he finally reached the hair dye area.

Techno had been wanting to color his hair pink for a while, but only his mom knew and she encouraged him to do it as soon as he brought it up. She said that it would look amazing on him and would complement his blood-red eyes and pink elongated ears.

Harshly swallowing the lump in his throat and blinking back the tears that threatened to spill, Techno looked at the multitude of colors before he finally found the color he was looking for.

Techno knew this was an irrational decision, but hell, his whole life was filled with irrational decisions, so how was this going to be any different?

With that thought in mind, Technoblade picked up the pink hair dye and threw it in the cart.

________________

Techno couldn’t believe he was actually doing this.

The shower was running behind him and acted as background noise as his thoughts ran haywire. He had never done this before so he was very much scared, which caused his hands to shake slightly.

However, if he was correct, he was pretty sure he had to bleach his brown hair first, so he brought a box of hair bleach and had it opened and readied on the sink. And before he could back out and throw away the dye, he grasped it harshly and started to apply it to his damp hair.

The applying process went by in a blur, but he knew that his ears were burning because of the bleach and that he was glad that he had removed the little jewelry that he had on before applying the dye.

The bathroom before him shocked him to the core when he finally focused his eyes.

The sink and tub was splattered with the pink dye, his hands a mess as well.

Phil was going to kill him when he saw this. What had he done?

Realization struck Techno like a freight train causing his hands to fly up to cover up his mouth as his back slammed into the bathroom door with a thump.

“Techno? Was that you?” Techno could hear a voice below him shout, worry clear in their words.

Shit, was that his dad? How was he home already and how did Techno not hear him enter the threshold?

Footsteps could be heard thundering up the stairs. “Techno? Are you alright? Where are you?”

Techno could only let out a warbly sob from his place on the floor, body shaking like a leaf in the wind.

A knock echoed throughout the empty house, reverberating off the walls and bouncing around the unoccupied rooms. “Can I come in, Techno?”

Techno’s trembling legs picked him up, hands unsteady as he moved aside and opened the bathroom door. In an instant, Techno was enveloped in a warm hug, both his father’s arms and wings wrapped around his body. Normally, he wasn’t a very touchy person, but it felt good for one to just be in his father’s arms and feel safe from the world for once.

“Dad- I’m sorry- I just- I just miss her and I thought that this would help me remember her and move on- I’m sorry I didn’t mean to stain the tub or the sink or my hand and I’m probably getting dye on your shirt and-” Techno started to ramble, clutching fistfulls of his father’s shirt in his hands, trying to bring him closer if that was even possible.

His dad let out a watery smile, “Shhh, shhh, I know, I know, I miss her too.”

They stood like that for a while, rocking back and forth as Techno released his tears into his father’s shirt. Techno pulled away after some time.

He let out a watery laugh once he saw splotches of pink dye on Philza’s shirt, “Sorry for getting dye on your white shirt.”

“Hey, it’s fine mate. You feeling better now?”

“I mean,” Techno said. “As much as I can be right now, I guess.”

“How about I go and cook dinner while you wash your hair out, okay? Don’t worry about the sink or tub, I’ll go and wash it out later tonight.” “Okay, thank you dad. I love you.”

“I love you too, son.” Philza let out a soft smile, squeezing his son’s hand once before moving out of the bathroom.

Techno cleaned up and got changed, walking downstairs once he was finished. His two siblings were already at the dinner table, steak sizzling in the background and Wilbur and Tommy talked with each other, idly chatting. They didn’t say anything about his hair once they noticed, and Techno was thankful for that. The family sat down together, dinner ready and on the table as they chatted amongst themselves.

Sure, it wasn’t the best situation they were in, but they were healing. Healing together as a family, and that was all Techno could hope for.

[ilovefandoms102]

Part 16

Summary: Things for you and JJ take a turn 

Taglist:

@ma10427 @lasnaro @certainstatesmantoadartisan @iamaunicorn4704 @fernweh-fangirl @justcallmesams @sspidermanss @tangledinsparkles @jellyfishbeansontoast @hurricane-abigail @outerbongs @gviosca @eb15 @lopineapples

Part 15 Part 17 

Note: I hope you guys enjoy! Let me know what you guys think!

Songs referenced later in the chapter: 

More Than Words- Extreme

You’ll be in my Heart-Phil Collins

===================================

“JJ,” I mumbled, gripping harder on the armrests.

“Why are we at Barry’s?” Pope asked.

“Be right back guys” JJ said, climbing out of the van.

“JJ no!” I yelled, running after him.

JJ rummaged and threw stuff around in Barry’s house. It was so disgusting and smelled like no one had cleaned it in a very, very long time.

“JJ what are you doing?” I asked, standing by the door while he was in the kitchen.

“I know this motherfucker has a stash hidden” he said.

“A stash of what babe?” I questioned, throwing my arms out. I ran after him as he went to the back of the house. We stopped in what I’m assuming is Barry’s room.

“Found it” JJ said, dumping a shit load of cash on the bed. He grabbed a bag, stuffing all of the cash into it quickly.

“So, we’re robbing people now JJ?” I asked rhetorically, following behind him back to the front door.

“I’m sick and tired of people messing with us, we’re getting even” he spat out, slamming the door open. 

“Yeah JJ and ya know, if you keep doing shit like this you know who you’re going to end up like? Your fucking dad!” I shouted, immediately regretting my words.

He slammed me up against the van, grabbing the front of my shirt. I didn’t back down from his stare. I was too angry and stubborn to see what I had said was so wrong. I could see the hurt behind the fury in his eyes. 

“JJ!” John B yelled, coming to my side. I held up my hand, telling him I had the situation handled. 

“You really sprouting that shit on me baby?” JJ asked.

“This is beyond psychotic JJ! Barry knows dangerous people, and he’s going to come after us.” I spat through my teeth. He gripped at my shirt tighter, staring more intensely in my eyes. “Put it back” I whispered.

“No” he said, getting in the van.

I stood still where I was, not knowing what to do to make him see he was being crazy. Everyone else stared at us, I looked at my brother, the sting of tears creeping up on me without my permission. I choked out a sob I didn’t want to come out. I knew I had to say it or this was going to be bad.

“JJ” I said, turning to look at him.

“I’m not putting it back!” he yelled.

“Put it fucking back or we’re done!” I screamed, the tears starting to leak down my face.

Everyone gasped behind me, JJ’s eyes widening. I stood my ground, the adrenaline still pumping in my system caused my whole body to start shaking. 

“Please JJ, put it back. I can’t lose you, please” I whispered, the tears coming down harder.

“Fuck this” JJ scoffed, he got out of the van and started walking away from us. 

My heart shattering, I was losing the love of my life. But, I knew even in a fucked up way, this was all from a place of love. He was reacting because we were threatened, and a gun was pointed at all of our heads. I started after him, but my brother stopped me with an arm going around me. 

“JJ!” I sobbed, leaning on my brother. He turned me around, my head going into his neck as I cried.

“Let’s go bubba” John B said, pushing me to the van. John B drove while I took the passenger seat. I got out my cigarettes, chain smoking them the whole way home trying to ease the pain in my heart. 

Later that evening:

I blew up JJ’s phone the minute we got home from Barry’s, worry pooled deep in my stomach. I knew he was going to take that money to his dad, and who knows what the hell they’d do with it. I cried in my brother’s and Sarah’s arms for hours, regretting everything I said to JJ. 

“I just wanted him to see how unreasonable he was being, I didn’t think he’d actually take it seriously” I sobbed, Sarah ran her hands through my hair.

“He knows that Bubba, he was acting out of anger. You know he loves you.” John B said.

“What if his dad does something to him?! Oh god, I’d never forgive myself Birdie!” I screamed out, jumping up off the couch. I ran to the door, grabbing the keys.

“Bubba!” John B yelled, him and Sarah following after me.

“Where are you going?” Sarah asked.

“I’m going to get JJ” I stated. 

They both piled into the van, I pounded my foot on the gas. We were half way there when two motorbikes pulled up. 

“Pull the fuck over!” one of them said. 

I slammed the gas harder, the guy pulling in front of the van, and I had to slam on the breaks to keep from hitting them. The man took his helmet off, and none other than Rafe fucking Cameron was the one driving.

“Let me handle this” Sarah said.

I ignored her, slamming the door shut. I walked up to Rafe and shoved him as hard as I could.

“WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU!” I screeched. 

“Nice to see you too little Pogue” he smirked. 

“What the hell Rafe?” Sarah said.

“Ahhh my beloved little sister” he said.

“Cut the shit Rafe, what do you want” I asked through my teeth.

“I want a lot of things from you little Pogue, but now’s not the time for that. What I’m really here for is to ask why you all thought it was a good idea to steal from a drugdealer.” Rafe said. Sarah and I looked at each other, my fist balled up.

“We didn’t take anything” I said.

“You don’t have to pretend with me, but you should know...Barry is a bad man. He has connections everywhere, and he’s going to come after you all” he said.

“Well thank you for almost dying just to tell us something we already know dumbass” I said, crossing my arms over my chest.

“You misunderstand me little Pogue. He knows Maybank has the money, so he’s going to take YOU as his prize.” Rafe said. 

“I’d like to see him try” I said. “I can handle myself quite well with the amount of times I’ve beat your ass huh Rafe?” I asked, smirking at my last statement.

“If you don’t want your friends to die Sarah, you best be getting that money” Rafe said to Sarah. 

All of the sudden, we see a van pull up. Men rushing out, heading for me and Sarah.

“Shit” I said.

“Hey! I said not my sister!” Rafe yelled.

Sarah and I bolted back to the van, men getting a hold of us almost instantly.

“JB!” I screamed for my brother. I saw him run to the back of the van, he pulled the gun I took from Barry out and rang out a shot.

“I suggest you let both my sister and my girlfriend go, or I’m going to blow each of your fucking brains out.” my brother said, deadly calm.

That bought me enough time to elbow the guy that had a hold of me, turning around and punching him in the face. Another trying to grab me, but I kicked my leg out and hit him right where it counts. After Sarah and I got free, we got in the van and I got us out of there. I couldn’t go to JJ’s now because it would lead Barry’s men right to him.

“We have to move the gold tonight, with or without JJ” I said, speeding back to the chateau.

I suddenly got a text from JJ, telling me to meet him at the house. My eyes widened at the message, I sped faster to get to him. We got home and it was completely dark out now. I instructed my brother to get the stuff ready so we could move the gold. Suddenly, a shit ton of fairy lights came on all around the chateau. 

“The hell?” I said, looking around. I spotted a huge ass hot tub in the middle of my yard, my mouth fell open.

“A jet is going right up my butt babygirl” JJ slurred. He was drunk off his ass, sunglasses sitting low on his nose. 

“JJ, what the hell is all this?! How much did this cost?! How did it get here?!” I started asking a million questions to which he shook his head at me. 

“Baby, it doesn’t matter. Come on get in with me!” he said, waving his hand at me.

“JJ, this is insane...seriously how much was all of this?” I asked.

“Well, let’s see. I had express delivery, had to buy the gas, and the lights. So....all of it” he said nonchalantly. My eyes were so wide I’m sure they would have popped out of my head.

“WHAT?!” I screeched. “JJ!” I yelled at him.

“Sweets, it’s fine. I bought this for us! Our friends,no fuck that this is our family.” he said.

“JJ...this is not ok! You could have at least used that to pay your restitution! Or literally anything remotely helpful!” I shouted.

“Ok well I didn’t!” he said, standing up.

His whole stomach was covered in huge bruises, I stared at them. My poor JJ, just wanting acceptance and love. No matter how hard I tried, he would always still look for it from his dad, and when he did, it resulted in another bruise. 

“Baby” I croaked, my hand going over my mouth.

“Now stop all the emotional shit! Get in! I mean it’s sweet right?” he said, finally starting to break down.

I ran to him, getting in the tub and throwing myself into his arms. He broke down completely, body racking sobs escaping from his chest. I held on to him, singing our song softly in his ear. He cried hard, holding me so tight it was almost I struggle to breathe. When he calmed a little he spoke softly to me.

“Will you sing another song for me baby?” he asked. I started singing another song.The sobs coming again from him, shaking me with him.

“Come on baby, let’s go inside” I said softly to him.

We got out, heading inside. I got him in the shower and cleaned him off. I applied some cream to his cuts and made him take some medicine for the pain. We sat on my bed beside each other. 

“I almost killed him” JJ muttered, a silent tear rolling down his face.

“Honey” I mumbles, running my hands through his wet hair.

“I just want to do the right thing for once sweets” he said, putting his head in his hands. 

“I know you do sweetheart, it’s ok” I said, pulling him to me. His head landing on my chest. I combed my hands in his hair, getting rid of the knots that already started to form.

“No it’s not! I’m such a fuck up! I’m so sorry baby, I hurt you. I lost it and I hurt you.” he cried into my chest, his arms going around my waist. 

“It’s ok baby, we were both mad and I said things I didn’t mean” I said.

“You’re right. I fuck everything up just like my dad. I’m becoming just like him” he muttered. 

“JJ Maybank, do you really think I would let that happen?” I asked.

“You’re going to get tired of me eventually. You can’t fix me.” he said.

“JJ, I love you. And I know you love me. I know in my heart, that you are a good fucking person. And I’ll be damned if you or anyone tries to tell me any different.” I said, now my turn to start crying. “I want you, all of you. The good and the bad.” I said, quoting him.

“I just blew 25k on a fucking hot tub! I could have done something to help us and I bought a hot tub!” he yelled, pushing away from me. He turned and planted his feet on the ground, his elbows on his knees, and his head going in his hands. 

“Well maybe we can sell it.” I said.

“It doesn’t change anything! Barry is going to come after us and it’s my fault! I should have listened to you! I was just so mad, and scared. Mad that fucker had a gun pointed at my girl and my friends. Scared because now people know the gold is real and that we have it. FUCK!” he screamed, punching the pillow. 

“We’ll figure it out! We always do..we knew this shit was going to be dangerous, My dad died for this gold.” I said, rubbing his back.

“We need to find somewhere to get this gold cashed, and get out of the country” JJ mumbled.

==========================================

[angelic-writer]

“Come on, _________, please stay with me, please. I’ve already lost so much today, I can’t lost you too.”

For the whump prompts

((Ohohohoho! You fool. You activated my trap card! >:) ))

“Come on, Victor, please stay with me, please. I’ve already lost so much tonight, I can’t lose you too.” Philip’s voice started to crack as he watched the wounded pyrokinetic try to take deep breaths. His lover’s blood leaked out from the cracks of his fingers as he tried desperately to stop the bleeding. His own breathing was hitching, his vision was blurry with tears...

He was not losing him too.

All the people he had lost tonight flashed through his mind. Simone, Casey, Matthew, John...

Simone Taylor. Someone he considered a very close friend. He always annoyed her by being brash, but he always appreciated her logical side.

Casey Joint. Their very own hacker for the Ministry. Even though he spent all his time on his computer, he was always the jokester, mostly joking about how his name was almost a pun for “Casing the Joint”.

Matthew and John Defoe... They were like his two sons. He found the family he never had. He planned on adopting them when he married Victor, but now...

Trilby’s breath hitched in his throat as he tried to get up. He had to get to Victor. He had to!

“Trilby, you have to stay still!” Chris hissed at him, trying to bandage his arm.

“Quinn, I have to get to Victor. I... I need to-”

“I-I know... But-” Trilby didn’t give Chris enough time to finish as he was already up and limping over to them. He glanced over to Siobhan who was already laying in a pool of her own blood. The others told him it was just a concussion, but he knew they were lying. With how severe her head trauma was, it’s unlikely she is ever getting up again.

“Hey, Vic. I’m here. Phil’s here. Just- Take a deep breath, okay? Help is on the way.” He tried to whisper comforting words to him, but Victor could only chuckle as air rattled in and out of his lungs like a buzz-saw.

“Trilbs, you know I’m not gonna make it. This... This is too serious for me...”

“God, just- Don’t talk like that! We’ll get everyone here to the hospital and everything will go back to normal!!” Trilby commanded. Really, he was trying to put on a facade so he would not break down entirely.

“Easier said than done, Trilby. But mostly everyone’s dead. We’re just not good enough for them. We’ll just get replaced anyway. That’s how it usually works.” He paused to cough. Blood trickled down his mouth as he did so.

“Vic, please... Don’t be such a cynical bastard!! You’re always like this! You’re always too serious and when I try to joke around, you always ruin the mood with your pissy attitude!!! It’s not even funny!” Philip started to sob. Victor gave him a wry smile.

“But... I did like some of your jokes... Even though some of them were pretty distasteful like the kabob one, I liked the ones that weren’t about stabbing!”

Philip grabbed his hand, squeezing it tightly while Trilby started to apply pressure. “Listen to me, Victor. You’re going to make it out of there alive. We’re gonna go on all the dates you want, go to all the places you want to go - Hell, you could even pick a suit you want to wear when we-” His words got caught in his throat. He can’t say it. Not now.

“A suit? What?” Victor was confused for a second. Then, his eyes lit up as he realized. “Wait... Are you asking me to...?”

Philip slowly nodded. He leaned down, allowing Victor to give him a kiss on the cheek.

“Of course I will. I’m sure we’ll be a wonderful couple. We’ll be pretty badass, won’t we?”

“Uh... Uh huh...”

“Hehe. Hey... After this, we can go to the pub. My treat.”

“Y-Yeah...”

“After that, we can go ring shopping. We can buy the most lovely rings. The kinds that’ll make any married couple jealous.”

Philip nodded, sniffling.

“And... We can like, go to Australia for our honeymoon...”

“Yeah... I-I’d like that...”

“Good.”

Trilby tried to contain himself. He tried to swallow a sob that was coming up. God, why are they taking so long? Where the fuck is the ambulance?!

“Hey, Philip...”

“Yeah?”

“Even though... our relationship had its ups and downs, I-I’m glad... I met you...” His eyes started to flutter. “I’m glad I fell in love with you...”

“No! No, no, no. You will not close your eyes on us, Cassen! You keep those damn eyes open, you understand me?!” Trilby shouted.

“But... I-I feel so tired... M-Maybe I should take a nap... Wake me up when all of this is over, okay...?”

“No! No NO NO NO!!” Trilby’s words did not reach him at all. Victor’s eyes slowly closed and his hand fell limp. “Fuck! FUCK!” Trilby put his hand on Victor’s neck, trying to feel a pulse. He didn’t care if his voice had risen, he had to feel something!!!

...

...

...

“No...” Trilby started to shake. “No, no, no...”

“What?!” Philip’s voice was shrill and panicked.

“He... He has no pulse...”

Those words felt like a sword being plunged through his heart. He... He can’t be...

“No. No, he’s not dead. He can’t be!” He started to do chest compressions, the same way Victor had been doing for him when he was dying. “Hold the wound, Trilbs. We need to keep him alive until the ambulance arrives, alright?!”

Trilby reluctantly did so. He knew it was no use. Victor’s skin was cool to the touch and his pupils were dilated. Classic signs of shock. He couldn’t stop himself from shaking. Tears were already pouring from his eyes. He didn’t acknowledge Adam running into the room. In fact, he and Phil didn’t acknowledge anything. It was like everything just faded away.

They were focusing on their co-worker who is likely dead like the rest of the agents. Trilby could hear Victor’s ribs crack at one point due to the pressure of Philip’s compressions, but he either didn’t notice or didn’t care. At one point, Chris came over to help and Trilby took over compressions while Phil did the breathing.

They were working very hard to try and save him. But, it didn’t matter how long they were doing it for. It didn’t matter that Adam brought the defibrillator to try and shock him. It didn’t matter how many times they shocked him.

Victor was never coming back. This “nap” of his is one that he will never wake up from. He will never get to joke about how this mission of theirs almost got them killed. He will never be able to be a jerk to everyone. He will never get to impress Phil with his pyrotechnics. He will never get to kiss his lover goodbye. He will never get to do the things he promised Phil he would do. He will never get to walk this earth again.

He will never come back.

He will never...

“One, two, three! Clear!”

WHAP!

Victor’s body flinched. Adam checked. Nothing. Trilby restarted compressions. He was already getting exhausted. He was about to give up when Philip yelled at him not to. He’s not gone, he said. I won’t let him die!

His arms were already getting sore. It was clear he can’t keep doing this. “D-Do you want me to take over?” Chris asked. Trilby nodded and fell back, winded. The adrenaline rush had long since faded and now, he’s trying to catch his breath. All he could do was stare at the ceiling and listen to them try to revive Victor. His eyes started to close when suddenly...

“Wait!”

His head snapped up. Propping himself up on his elbows, he looked to see Philip checking Victor’s airway. “I-I think I got something...”

Trilby was already up and running. He immediately checked Victor’s pulse. Please... Please let there be something...

...

It’s faint... He has a pulse, but it’s faint...

That set off something inside of him. Suddenly, it didn’t matter. He is not giving up on him. They had come this far, they are not gonna leave him. He put his ear to his chest to see if he had a discernible heartbeat. He couldn’t hear it. He started compressions again. This time, he is determined. He is determined to make sure he’s alive. He will not let this man die!

Once he got to thirty, Adam placed the paddles on Victor’s chest. “Alright, count of three, we shock him!” Trilby instructed everyone. They all nodded.

“Okay, one, two, three! CLEAR!”

WHAP!

Victor’s body flinched once again. Philip once again checked his pulse.

...

“Okay, it’s getting stronger!”

Trilby put his ear to his chest. Finally, he could hear his heart beating steadily. He breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you, god.”

The tension in the room eased. Phil let out a chuckle and stroked Victor’s hair. “Well, looks like you’ll be waking up from this nap after all.”

Trilby was shaking as the second adrenaline rush faded. He hugged Chris tightly as he started to sob. “Chris... W-We did it... We did it!” He said as he began to laugh. Chris rubbed his back as he rocked him gently.

After Trilby had calmed down, he went over to Siobhan to see if she was okay. To his surprise, she was still breathing. Despite that blow to the head, she was still alive. He immediately started to treat her head wound. “I’m so sorry... I’m sorry you got dragged into this... I’m so sorry...”

Soon, the ambulance arrived. They loaded Victor onto the stretcher and wheeled him out, Philip following close behind. They soon got everyone loaded into the ambulances and drove them to the hospital.

Finally... After 7 months, it was over. The New Order was no more and Trilby will make sure it stays that way.