#i loved how deadpan phil was here too

[sardonic-the-writer]

—amsterdam

SUMMARY | agreeing to come along with the group to amsterdam to participate in not one, but two tom simons videos, can get a little crazy

PAIRING | cc!tommyinnit x reader

REQUESTED | no

WORD COUNT | 1.1k+

AUTHORS NOTES | the tom simons channel is probably my favorite vlog channel ever

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This was the third time Charlie had destroyed your lego creation, and you were this close to locking him out of the room.

"I swear to god you fucker—" Another blocky build crumbled to peices as the brunette slapped his hand down on your own pair, laughing good naturedly all the while.

"Phiiiiil!" You turned your torso halfway to whine at the other man in the generic hotel room, who was looking at his phone blandly while resting on the foot of a bed opposite you. "Tell Charlie to stop being an asshole before I bite him!"

"Stop being an asshole to them Charlie before they bite you. And they will, it's not just a threat mate." The middle aged man echoed back without so much as looking up from his phone.

"Wow. Gee thanks Phil. Glad to know my pain and suffering is less important than your phon—Charlie I swear to fucking god!! One more time, and I mean it, one more time and I'm going to sic Tubbo on you in the video tomorrow!" You had since stopped looking at Phil, now scooping as many stray legos as you could close to your chest while Charlie attempted to steal them away from you.

"I paid for these with my own twitch prime! Back! Back, I say."

"Noooo." Charlie made a sound that reminded you of a gremlin, wiggling his fingers comically while trying to take more out of your pile. "The lego goblin must have his legos!!! Otherwise he may become, the tickle monster!"

"Oh no he fucking wont." You deadpanned at Charlie. He just smiled back at you innocently before wiggling his fingers once more and lunging for you, nearly knocking you both into Phil on the other bed with the effort of it.

"Take that, you hoarder!" He laughed, glasses knocked askew as his hands viciously attacked your sides with pokes and jabs as you screamed.

"Jesus fucking christ you two!!" Phil was looking at the both of you on the floor, clutching his phone to his chest in surprise while laughing.

"Phil! Help me! I'm dying! Tell my wife that—that I love her." You choked out a surprisingly loud and shocking gasp before going limp, your tounge dramatically lolling out of your mouth the way a cartoon character's might.

It was a lot harder than you thought it would be to hold in your laughter as you watched Charlie fall to his knees somberly, listening as he wailed on about how he had 'killed' you. It was even harder when you got a glimpse of Phil sitting above you, stuffing his fist in his mouth to try not to laugh at the two of you.

"—ow will I ever redeem myself!? I'll be tried in court, given years of prison time! I'll never make it in there! I'm too soft, too—oh hey Tommy."

You immediately scrambled to get to your feet alongside Charlie at that revelation, the both of you adjusting your disheviled appearances the best you could all while Phil cackled.

"Hey Toms." You smiled crookedly, trying to look nonchalaunt as possible while looking at the confused face of the boy currently peaking his head into your hotel room. Light from the hallway was now peaking into the room, washing over the few shadows left from spare luggage and souvenir bags people had left lying on the floor.

"What the fuck are you guys doing in here?" He furrowed his brows, laughing lightly at how put of breath everyone was. "We can hear you all the way across the wall. Wil sent me over here to get you to shut up. Managment was looking pretty upset when I was making my way over here too. Might be because I stole some candy from the reception desk earlier too though." He muttered the last bit quieter, covering it up poorly with a cough before looking back at you.

"Oh. Uh, sorry about that. Well, I died for a little bit, I think?" You scratched the back of your neck. Charlie nodded vigorously. A bit too vigorously to be discussing the topic of your supposed death if you were being honest.

"Yes. And from natural causes. Definitely not murder of any sorts! No, not at all! An all natural one. All natural death that is."

Tommy just tilted his head in Phil's direction, clearly not believing either of your very convincing tales.

"They were having a tickle fight over the legos you lot bought earlier." He ignored you and Charlie's whines to shut up as he talked to Tommy, who by now was laughing.

"A tickle fight?" He stepped forward and closed the door behind him, blue eyes shining with mischief as he grinned. "Without me? For shame you bastards."

"No. Tommy dont you dare, I know what you're thinking, mate. No no no I'm not about to let all of you just—and there you go. For christ's sake, Wil's going to kill me."

Phil backed away further on the bed, just nearly being missed as Tommy jumped onto Charlie and sent him sprawling, the two of them rolling around in a blur of colors in the hotel room while each tried to overpower the other.

You yourself were practically kneeling over with laughter, pumping a fist in the air while rooting for Tommy, only stopping at one point to pick up Charlie's glasses off the ground so they wouldn't get crushed in all the chaos.

It didn't last long, really, before Charlie let out a guttural cry and replicated what you had done earlier, falling limp as if he was now nothing but a corpse on a battlefield.

"And the winner is Tommathy Innit!!" You hollered cheerfully despite the groans of Phil to shut up, beaming at Tommy as he stood triumphantly, Charlie laying on the ground below spread out like a starfish. A very sweaty, very exhausted starfish. You imagined that you didn't look much different from him at the time though.

"Thank you, thank you! Really!" Tommy was now parading around the small confines of the room with his nose in the air. Doing what sounded like a very bad impression of a snooty car salesman as he went. "I'd like to thank my many wives, including Philza Minecraft's, and—oof!"

Everyone laughed as they watched Tommy shakily raise a fist from where he was now lying face first on the carpet, shooting a thumbs up to let you all know that he was okay from his sudden trip over a luggage bag.

"Graceful mate. Real graceful. Watch out for the suitcases next time though, Tommy."

"Fuck you lot." Was all he said before dissolving into laughter, most everyone following suit.

[rainbowchaox]

I like Pissa. I don't know Phil well and I'm neurodivergent, so I read your analysis but I have a hard time understanding when you talk about his subtle behaviors. Being here and seeing everything you publish I see that many take certain behaviors as signs of falling in love, that seems so cute to me, but sometimes I fear that perhaps everything is part of a collective delusion. It calms me when people who know Phil better and their characters affirm it because that gives me hope that it really is like that (It would be sad to love a ship that makes the CC uncomfortable, but if they really decided to enter the game in a subtle way I'm calm). I would like, if it wouldn't be too much trouble for you, you to tell me a little more about your vision of how Phil's infatuation works, I understand Missa's more, because he is more direct, but I really have a hard time understanding the crow man… sometimes he is so deadpan, stoic, I don't know, it seems that way to me, but I want understand him. I really love the cute couple that Phil and Missa make.

Phil as character always been show not tell. He isn’t a character that verbally says what he means. He is always worried for the next threat the next enemy. But the thing is when you gained his loyalty. That is practially a love confession of sorts. He will wait ages for Missa to come back. Never considered abandoning him. He prepared gifts even during times he should have abandoned Missa. He immediately trusts Missa to sleep in the Sanctuary. And he does know Missa feelings as he sorta implied it. It depends on your preferred dynamic (platonic or romantic). The thing everyone agrees no matter what Phil loves Missa. Whether that’s Romantic or Platonic, the man is important to him.

[fictionaltrvlr-fics]

strength || philinda

Summary: little filler moment between Coulson and a slightly injured May. Set somewhere around the end of season five (spoilers!!) as Coulson is grappling with his impending doom. Inspired by this prompt:

“I’m fine.” “You don’t look fine.” “I can stand. That’s enough.” “You’re leaning against the wall.” “I’m okay.” Person B walks over and hesitantly slides A’s arm over their shoulder. “You don’t need to pretend around me. I’m not going to let you down.” “That didn’t even cross my mind.”“Then why lie?” “I want. I want to be strong for you.” “I already know that you are.” (source)

Warnings: none really, spoilers for season five, a little sad but also sweet.

Words: 1,003

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Coulson sat in the disorganised space, trying to find something useful for the next stage of this ridiculous plan. Of all the cockeyed, deluded, unfathomably impossible-

He sighed. When had “impossible” ever stopped them before? He could hear the others shuffling around a few rooms over, taking stock after the latest incident, making sure all limbs were still attached.

The other “impossible” rose up in his mind as he glanced at the makeshift desk and the crumbled paper that lay there, laughing at him. He shook his head. Not the time.

A noise from the doorway brought his attention to a grinning May standing against the frame.

“You look like you’re trying to figure out time travel,” she joked at his clouded expression and he grimaced slightly. She could always read him.

“I’ll leave that to the British divison,” he answered.

An indignant, “I’m Scottish!!!” came from the other room and the two agents shared a silent laugh as May took a faltering step into the room, closing the door behind her.

Coulson eyed her suspiciously. She caught the look, and before he could say anything, she interjected with, "I'm fine, Director. Don’t look at me like that."

He internally questioned how accurate the title was anymore, but didn’t mention it.

“You don't look fine."

"Thanks,” she deadpanned. “I can stand, Phil. That's enough."

"You're leaning against the wall,” he pointed out helpfully.

"Shut up."

Coulson’s head cocked slightly, the concerned amusement evident on his face. He walked over and slid her arm over his shoulders.

He took her weight and said somewhat awkwardly, “You don't need to pretend around me. I'm not going to let you down."

“That’s clearly not the issue here."

"Then why lie?,” he asked as he helped her sit on the crates they’d been using as chairs.

She sighed, her eyes flicking back to the door, confirming that they would not be overheard.

“These kids need us to be strong. I am strong. I don’t break. Not ever. We can’t, you know that. Besides, with everything-“ She cut herself off abruptly, turning her head to study his face. She found it attentive and reluctantly continued, “You’ve had a hard year too. The kids aren’t the only ones I need to be strong for.”

The agent next to her had clearly let his guard down, otherwise his shock would not have been so easily detected.

Coulson was silent for a breath as he processed what May has said. Had he made her feel that way? That she needed to be strong for him? That was so far from his mind, he hadn’t even considered it. He relied on her of course, she was indispensable. They had always held each other together, stolen moments, the occasional drink; but they had both become so distracted lately.

Or, rather, he had become distracted, since apparently she was so clearly aware of what he needed her to be. He spent every waking moment with his impending death gnawing at him as he intentionally drowned it out. He had tried to write goodbyes but they all felt so… hollow. So disingenuous.

What was one to say in such a circumstance? You were always important to me. No. Too stale. And yet “I love you” was something he had not said in a very long time. He did feel it. For Daisy. For FitzSimmons. For his entire team. They were his family. Even Deke had grown on him. But to just say it was awkward, clunky.

And yet, if he let himself admit it, he felt love for the woman stood beside him. He had accepted it far before she had.

But she had married, so he sat back, telling himself that friendship was enough. That working together was at least better than not having her in his life.

And then everything had gone to hell, and they both told themselves that stolen moments were enough.

And now here she was, being strong for him? Proving herself? Or protecting him?

"I already know that you’re strong, May.” His voice was soft, and yet also somehow slightly scolding. What they had went mostly unspoken; never mind how painfully obvious it was to anyone who saw the two of them.

She was smiling slightly, and he could see the plotting behind her eyes. He knew the team was determined not to let him go. He was trying to prepare them, and he he knew that, eventually, they would have to accept it.

But May… May never liked to just accept things.

“What?,” he questioned, a teasing lilt to his voice as he tried to puzzle out what she was thinking.

She shook her head. “Nothing. Never mind. We finish this, properly, then I’ll answer you questions. Okay?”

He held her gaze as he nodded. “I suppose I can live with that.”

“Good,” she nodded with a note of finality which Coulson knew meant they were done talking about it. For now, at least.

As May stood, his hand found her wrist and she froze.

“What happened? Did Simmons check you out?,” he asked, referencing her injury.

She looked bewildered for a moment before remembering that she was, actually, in pain. She waved dismissively.

“It’s nothing.” Coulson made to counter her when she cut him off. “No, Phil, really. Or nothing to be done about it anyway, I’ll find some pain killers.” She had turned around and was gesturing over her shoulder as she confidently marched out the door; albeit with a slight limp. “Nothing broken or-“ Her voice faded as she disappeared down the hall.

Coulson rolled his eyes as he pushed himself off his seat and straightened his shirt. He might be the one dying, but somehow she was the one who never took care of herself. He followed her out, intent on ensuring that she would actually at least let him make sure she wasn’t bleeding or duct-taping herself back together. After all, injured agents were a liability on missions… yes, he told himself, that was why.

No other reason.

AN: hope you enjoyed 😊. It’s a bit random ig but I just thought the prompt fit them too well. I hope it’s not awkward, romance isn’t really my thing haha but I love these two 🤍

[scientistofdeduction]

Ok, I live tweeted a rewatch of Study in Pink

And I had a lot of thoughts about it, but main take away was how much I found myself genuinely enjoying it for the first time in years without getting depressed or bitter.

Like a “it is what it is and I’m still going to have fun” attitude.

Under the cut I’ve compiled all my tweets into a single little weird post. Enjoy if you read it.

Alright

So it’s Sherlock rewatch day

For the anniversary of SiP.

I’ve had so much distance on this show since it ended. I wouldn’t say I never rewatch it but I certainly put it down a few months after with the intention of never getting back into it in the same way.

I still know every line of this episode

Probably of the entire first season

It’s not bad, not this first season, but there’s still glaring issues to me that jump out considering the changes they made from the Pilot to the aired SiP episode.

Let’s be honest, Greg Lestrade is the best bit of this whole damn show.

“How do people keep themselves safe?”

“Well, don’t commit suicide.”

Rupert Graves’ deadpan delivery got me on that one this time.

Listen, Lestrade is the one thing I won’t pick apart.

Give points to the editing in this show.

Pretty op tier throughout

Cut from John “who was the first” to the zipper body bag reveal of Sherlock, upside down

Everything about that is really good.

Try not to think “wasted potential” every 10 minutes of this challenge 😂

I Will forever headcanon Sherlock as ace/gay and unbothered by people knowing or finding out. He formally came out to Mrs Hudson and because he loves her, cares not for her parading his business.

Hudson: establishes John is NOT Sherlock’s boyfriend

Immediately relate that she’s ok with it all but in a way she thinks is subtle

Spend the rest of the episode “outing” Sherlock to John

“Please date my awkward son, Mr Army Man, he’s lonely”.

Season 1-2 Hudson is the other greatest character in this show let’s be honest

So many possibilities set up in such a short screen time.

I think contrary to previous belief that actually Sherlock being a “villain” for lack of a better word here is set up pretty well in ep 1 and that thread is continued well in ep 6, but I think they dropped the ball in between.

“Stay away from Sherlock Holmes” is appealing—they could’ve set him up better to be misunderstood by all except those closest to him, and have Holmes not pretend to be anything he isn’t

But I think the whole weird sociopath thing really funked with that thread.

God there’s about to be a million and one fix it fics in my head after this isn’t there?

(Edited: I will definitely post a link if I start doing BBC fic again)

Mark Gatiss as Mycroft is also great casting I just god really loathe the writing of this Mycroft

“Yada Yada bully Mycroft we know, Ro”

It could’ve been a goofy joke! Between brothers! Sherlock reluctantly “Yeah thanks for checking out my new roommate bro but we’re chill” Mycroft laughs it off

No real creepy older brother, he doesn’t spy on them after that, drops the whole Bond villain act etc

This is in fact one of my least favorite Watson’s on screen

(Fanon John doesn’t count he’s cool and soft)

The characters play off each other and it’s silly goofy

Still just a fun watch

Ik I complain alot but it’s nice to have this goofy little first season

This show also could’ve been a deep little meditation on mental health but that and the whole “Sherlock does drugs” bit were missed potential

Phil Davis plays such a creepy Jefferson Hope/cabbie killer

I like the moments too where he and Sherlock have little calmer funny human moments

What gets me is that Holmes is very close to canon age in this (BC was like 34) but damn trying to picture a 5 or maybe 8 year younger man playing this but versus the cabbie over the pills just imagine.

The confrontation with Hope is super well written and still fanfic fodder for days

Hope playing up on this Holmes’s need to be right, his addiction to solving puzzles for stimulation

At the time his inability to look beyond himself for solutions

—this Holmes was willing to risk death for a stupid brain game (he was wrong) (he was so self centered in that moment he believed he was right despite it being very easy to see he was wrong)

Missed beat on the mental health note— assume a Sherlock who back of his head realizes he’s being goaded into taking the wrong one and back of his mind /doesn’t/ care. Instead of asking Hope if he’s right he just chucks the thing away, frustrated because the moment is gone.

“Are you alright”

“Yes of course I’m alright”

“You have just killed a man”

“That’s true..

… but he wasn’t a very nice man”

This departure from the pilot script right here set up the toxic relationship between these two and every time I mourn the loss.

Instead of John getting real and trusting Sherlock, “I saw men die in the war good men” and admitting his ruined sleep because of it. Instead of “I’ll sleep fine tonight,” because Sherlock gave him a war worth fighting for

We get a joke, a little laugh

And this only continues.

Anyways I always get a little laugh at the wonky Mycroft dialogue that’s there just to end the episode with “Sherlock Holmes and Doctor Watson” as the final words

This show has always been goofy and it makes it fun to revisit.

Happy 13th, Sherlock.

[inertflouride]

Turmoils Of You- Part 12

Sighs

"Ugh I'm so done with this shit. I'm gonna go crash. You do whatever you want man, just don't wake me up with a dagger over my neck. Trust me, I wake up a murderer myself so... yeah. Bye. Enjoy your night", my half dead ass announces and slams the bedroom door shut. I quickly bolt my door and throw myself over the bed before hiding myself in the quilts and closing the world off.

But, it doesn't right? The world, you can't close it. That's the way it's designed. Whenever you are on the top of the world, you'd wish to live every fucking second of it. But when you hit a rock bottom, woosh. Suicidal or um, drugs or whatever.

Drugs or whatever.

I can't deal with myself right now. Either I overthink about Jake or I get high. No in between. So, with this thought in my head, I move out of my room, popping only my head to see if Phil's there or not. Nope. No sign of the bartender.

I open my door slightly more and tiptoe and way to the front door, my shoes in my hand. Just as I open the door, a hand lands on my shoulder and I cringe.

"Knock knock", Phil says deadpan, no anger no disappointment, more like he anticipated me here long back. Slowly I turn back to him, my nose scrunched up. "Won't you say who?"

"Huh?"

"You know like, 'knock knock, whose this, the drug addiction..."

I look at him with the dumbest face humanly possible, not able to understand anything he said but still deciding to go with the flow. "Okay who?"

"No one! Because I'll kill the drug addiction you have. Come on, let's have coffee. Sit", he says, pulling me with my hand towards the kitchen stool and jerking my hand towards the seat. I let out a semi pissed sigh and sulk around the chair. I don't want to sit with him, he's very unlikeable and a flirt. I'm in no mood for that.

"I want to freshen up", I start. No reply. "I need to get my clothes." No reply yet again. "My bag is still in the SUV." Silence persists as he starts beating coffee in a cup. "I'm going to go get it." I finish this time and head for the door when he holds onto my wrist to stop me.

"Don't you dare go out. Take one of the tees from my bag for the time being. I'll get you your bag in a few minutes", he flatly states without lifting his eyes from the cup. If I wasn't so desperate to get rid of these clothes, I would have, and I mark, never worn his tee. But it is what it is, my shirt stinks of sweat so fuck it. I see his bag lying on the sofa, real mature Phil, and zip it open. Too many clothes. Where the fuck does he get the money to buy so many clothes?

"Woah. You own a freaking Armani tee? Who did you steal it from?", I quip at him as I continue as expedition.

"Oh that one? That's Angie's ex's. When they were... deep in each other, I picked it off the ground. It was fun when he had to run half naked when my mom caught onto their fun."

"Oh god. For real?", I stifle a laugh but fail and end up laughing way too hard that I have to wipe a stray tear from my eye. I notice him looking at me with his head slightly tilted to the side. Instantly, I let out a little cough and stop laughing. I take a plain black tee from his bag and hide myself in my bedroom.

Since it's only my tee that stinks, I keep my capris on while getting the stink machine off by back. Phil's tee still has a very distinct and strong cologne on, just like the way he normally smells. I put his tee on and notice how it reaches my upper thighs. God, what point wearing capris when they're gonna get hidden by his tee. Without further ado, I take my capris off to and sit on my bed. What? You thought I'll go in there with an oversized tee and panties? Pfft.

I plug my cell phone off from the lamp table and start scrolling with the messages. 200+ Damn. Despite that, my eyes just yearn for his message. Just... one message, please. I know he's offline but still, I can't help opening his chat and keep staring at his "I love you".

"MC!", I hear Phil say. What the fuck is that about? I jerk out of my bed in half a nanosecond and start scrambling towards my capris. Halfway pulling my capris up, the door slams open. Normally, this would be the part where I'd shriek but when I see the person in front of me, I freeze in my spot.

He's back.

[philhoffman]

This week’s Monday Philm (on a Tuesday) is Strangers With Candy (2005), based on the eponymous TV show and one of my least favorite movies lmao. I like Amy Sedaris elsewhere but I never watched the show and it’s not really within my sense of humor, but it does get a few laughs, especially from PSH, Allison Janney, Greg Hollimon, and Stephen Colbert.

PSH’s deadpan performance as Henry is hilarious. There’s not too much to write—it’s a pretty small role that’s better seen that described—just that it’s fun to see Phil fucking around in a comedy with some of his friends, not taking anything too seriously. Funny that last week’s feature was Empire Falls because there are a few lines (especially in Principal Blackman’s office) where you can hear the same broad accent he used as Charlie Mayne lol. Perfect pratfall, precisely in frame, no notes. And I LOVE that little smile Henry/Phil gives when he takes his clipboard back from Matthew Broderick—it’s the blink of an eye but one of my favorite little flourishes he ever did.

I was so bored and I’d already gone through the hassle of getting the DVD to work on my laptop so I watched the commentary track with Amy, Stephen Colbert, and director Paul Dinello for Phil’s scenes. I was pleasantly surprised to hear the commentary actually did address one of the few questions I had about Strangers With Candy—what Henry writes on his clipboard that makes Alice clam up then announce the science fair winner herself. I’d wondered if Phil had actually written anything, and, much like how PTA shot the phone call scene in Licorice Pizza, Dinello says he told Phil to “write something that would offend her.” It’s too dirty to repeat here—even Amy and Stephen’s jaws’ drop when Dinello tells them on the track—but oh, what an awful filthy boy.

(Related, since this was their only film project together: I never realized Phil and Amy dated briefly in the 90s until someone said it plainly a few months ago, but in hindsight it is so clear. How did I not immediately know when she described playing this game with him: “I’d be like, You have to act like you passed out on top of me and I have to try to get out from underneath you without waking you up.” She is stronger than me bc I would never be the same.)

[starlightswait]

♪ this is my fucking show, let me express myself ♪

[totallynotbat]

Friendship Moods

Summary: Phil and Techno decide to mess around a bit. 

Tickle Fic, no like click off. 

Contains: Swearing, Possibly Too Much Cute. 

Part 2 to Stealing Features. 

Relationship is Platonic! No ship tags!

Again thank you @amitlee for the ideas you left in my inbox.

Enjoy!

Phil walked into the living room of his family home. It’s been a few weeks since he chased Wilbur down, he was looking around for his chaotic son, only seeing Techno reading a book on the couch.

“Where is everyone mate?” Phil asked, the piglin looking up from his book. 

“Tommy is hanging out with Tubbo. And Wilbur is trying to make sure they don’t die.” Techno said with a small smirk. 

“Ah, okay then…” Phil smiled, leaving his friend to read in peace. 

Phil entered his room with a groan, shutting the door behind him. He was thinking about Wilbur tickling him a few weeks ago, not like he enjoyed it…

Right?…

The more he thought about it, the more red and flustered he was getting. Fucking hell his lee mood was showing again. 

Philza thought about two things, pretending this thing isn’t happening and try to ingore it. 

Or try and get Techno to help out, I mean it isn’t the first time he has tickled him before.

Phil walked out, he stood in front of the piglin. 

“Hey Techno?” Phil chuckled. 

“Yeah?” Techno replied, his eyes not darting from the book, 

Until Phil snatched it out of his hands.

“Heh?!” Techno said, Phil was mid way in the air book in hand.

“You can’t read all the time, mate.” Phil smirked, before dropping the book onto the floor, sticking his tounge out, and took off, giggling like a little kid. 

Techno blinked, before rolling his eyes with a small smile, doing his deadpan head turn, and chasing after the avian in a flash, before turning back and going up the stairs of the home.

Philza was running around the house trying to find a way to hide somewhere, stamina running out quickly as he was crouching a bit in the doorframe of his room.

“PHILZA!”

“ACK!” Phil yelped, with a grab around the waist followed by a pink and green blurred leap through the air. Techno had Philza pinned down on the bed, the piglin sitting on the avians legs. 

“T-Techno…we can have a mahahature tahalk about this.” Phil started giggling from anticipation as Techno began tracing lightly across his sides. 

“Yeah I’m sure we can.” Techno smirked.

The room was silent, Phil and Techno staring at each other. 

“Ugh…just do it…” Phil mumbled.

“With pleasure.” Techno showed his tusks with a smirk, as he scribbled lightly across Phil’s sides.

“Eep!” Phil squeaked, squirming a bit. 

“I keep on forgetting how sensitive you are here.” Techno said sarcastically, going a bit faster. 

“Tehech! Nohoho!” Phil chuckled, small squeaks peppering in.

Techno smiled, loving to hear his friend giggle, moving up to Phil’s neck. Phil squeaked, scrunching his shoulders up. 

“Aw, breaking so soon?” Techno teased, poking and scribbling across the skin.

“Nohoho I’m hoholding up!” Phil giggled, looking at Techno through scrunched eyes and a wide smile. 

“Uh huh, yeah sure.” Techno smirked, going lightly behind Phil’s ears which the feathers twitched behind them. 

“Tehehechno! Thahahahat Tihihickles!” Phil squeaked, trying to bite his lip to muffle his light bubbly giggles. 

“Oh I’m aware buddy.” Techno smiled. 

Techno slowly traced Phil’s neck again, relishing in the small giggles and squeaks he got, pretty contagious as Techno couldn’t help to laugh with him. 

“Tehehechno plehehease!” Phil snickered as Techno scribbled across Phil’s sides, pinching his ribs a few times. 

“And your laughter is so cute! Why should I stop?” Techno cooed. 

Phil’s laughter increased, his blush getting a darker shade of pink. “Shuhuhut up Tehechno!” 

“Shut up? Oh your so in for it now!” 

Techno slipped his hand under Phil’s kimono and thin shirt, lightly tracing and clawing his stomach.

Phil squeaked, squirming around and curling up into a ball like a roly poly. Techno smirked, contuing to tickle the avian with his one hand being trapped, okay he could get it out, but Techno chose not too.

“Tehech! Get your hand out!” Phil was on his stomach, giggling, as Techno had his one hand under Phil’s stomach, sitting uptop of Phil’s back. 

“Why? Are you ticklish here? Bit sensitive Phil?” Techno continued, watching the giggling and squeaks he got in response. 

“Shuhuhut up! Plehehease! It-NAHAT THEREHEHE!!!” 

Techno flinched a bit at Phil’s scream, reliazing his inner turmoil. He flipped Phil over onto his back, Phil getting his left over giggling out. 

“You good?” Techno asked, Phil giving a small nod. 

Techno slowly began tracing Phil’s stomach again, Phil squeaking and holding his breath back. 

Techno really forgot about how much he loved doing this. He didn’t admit it but he had a small soft spot for Phil, he remembered cheering up Phil when the avian came back home after a mob attack, so it wasn’t the first time he’s tickled him.

And sure as hell Techno was enjoying it probably as much as Philza was. 

“Tehechno! It’s thihihickly!” Phil squeaked, as the piglin continued tracing. 

“Well duh! That’s the point! And your just a sensitive little thing are you~” Techno cooed. 

Phil was trying to deny it, but a tingling sensation on his stomach made him scream, tipping his head back onto the pillow as he laughed.

Techno smiled with a low chuckle, blowing another raspberry into Phil’s belly, watching the avian squirm, slowly tracing a finger into Phil’s naval. 

“AHAHA! TEHEHECH! NOHOHOHO!!!” Phil laughed, squeaking. 

“Hm?” Techno hummed, pressing circles into Phil’s stomach with this thumbs and tracing his sides lightly.

“Itit reheheally tickles!” Phil hiccuped, Techno luckily slowing down once more, leaving the avian as a giggly pile of goo on the bed. 

“Yohohou are ruthless.” Phil glared with a playful smile. 

“Yeah, it’s for content purposes and plus we’re friends Phil.” Techno smirked, cracking his knuckles before placing this hands near Phil’s sides again with a grin. “And I’m about to be even more ruthless now.”  

With that he spidered across Phil’s ribs, the blonde squealing and falling into loud laughter immediately. 

“TEHEHECH! AHAHAHA!!” Phil shook his head violently.

“What’s up?” Techno teased, going down to his lower and back up to his upper ribs.

Phil was lost in a sea of flustered giggles to even say anything. Techno smirked, continuing to tickle the avian’s ribs. 

“One, Two, Three.” 

“Arehehe yohohou cohohounting?”

“Yep! Four, Five.” 

“Whihihiy?!” 

“I’m trying to see how many ribs you have! Which number was I on?” 

“Fhihihive…“

“Damn, guess I lost count, better start again.” Techno tutted, going back down to his lower ribs. 

“Tehehechno! Dohohont!” Phil argued, leaning back into the bed. 

Once again, Techno began tickling Phil’s ribs, sending the avian into a feat of high pitch giggles.

“TEHEHEHECHNO!!!” Phil cried out, letting out an embarssed snort. 

Techno stopped, allowing Phil to breathe, the avian looking up at him with a smile, followed by a few snorts. 

“You good to continue?” Techno asked, Phil nodding.

Techno squeezed Phil’s thigh, Phil kicking out his leg with a squeak, followed by high pitch laughter.

“Aw! Well this never changed!” Techno smirked, going back to his ribs.

“DAHAHAMN IT TEHEHECH!!!” Phil tried covering his already red face. 

“Dish it out, but can’t take it?” Techno smiled.

“SHUHUHUT UP!” Phil screamed, resting his head on Techno’s chest, trying to cover his flustered self, a sharp peep left his mouth. “Stahahap!”

“Stop what? Making you chirp? That’s on you buddy.” Techno lightly traced the back of Phil’s neck with his one hand, scribbling his ribs on the other. 

“Tehehehech! Itit thihihickles!” Phil rested his head onto the piglin’s chest, giggling. 

“Oh I’m aware.” 

Phil shrieked his wings flapping wildly as Techno spidered across his ribs, pinching his hips a few times. 

“Ah! AHAHA! TECH!” Phil squealed, one of his wings brushing against Techno’s neck. 

“Hehey!” 

“Oh god, Techno! That was a reflex! I didn’t mean that!” Phil retorted, nervously giggling. 

“It’s fine Phil.” Techno rolled his eyes with a smirk. “It’ll be okay after I do…THIS!” 

Techno tackled Phil down. Phil lying on his stomach as Techno scribbled across the base and joints of his wings. 

“TEHEHEHECH EHEHEHEHAHAHA!!!” Phil screamed, hiccups peppering in between his laughter. 

Techno cooed, inhaling and blowing a raspberry right into Phil’s spine, the avian’s wings went limp as he cackled. 

“OKAY OHOHOHKAY! IM SOHORRY! ITIT THIHIHICKLES TEHEHEHECH!!!” 

Techno slowed down, allowing Philza to curl up, resting his head on Techno’s chest, Techno doing light traces onto his back, even lightly tickling Philza’s neck, ears and sides. 

Phil felt limp, his eyes drooping. He relaxed and melted into the gentle tickling, his wings pressed around his body as he giggled.

“Thihihickly! Ehehehe! Hahahaha!” Phil giggled, trying to slap Techno’s hands away, letting out a chirp followed by trill’s.

Phil fell asleep resting his head on Techno’s chest, Techno stroking a hand through the avians hair, lightly tracing his back. 

“You probably enjoyed that just as much as I did.” Techno thought as he fell asleep as well.

[dreamerstreamer]

A Terrible Tutor

Pairing: Dream / Clay x gn!reader

Summary: [High School!AU] He’s cocky, annoying, a total tease, has a laugh loud enough to shake the stars, and you hate him. But as luck would have it, he’s also your tutor.

Word Count: 4.8k

Warnings: minor cursing

A/N: this is based on a classmate i had way back! (we did not fall in love. he was awful.) i’ve also never taken physics, but i tried something a bit new for the reader’s personality. i hope you enjoy :) <3

You glared down at your physics textbook, the open pages staring back up at you with beady eyes made of diagrams and labels. Off to the side, your notebook was strewn across your desk, a list of questions scribbled across the top line in a hurried rush. The handwriting was messier than you would have liked, but the thought didn’t irritate you.

What did irritate you was that it was nearly half past four, and your so-called tutor still hadn’t shown up.

You could still envision the concerned look on Mr. Craftson’s face as he held you back a moment after class, watching as the rest of your classmates poured out of the door with an anxious look. He had offered you a kind smile before pulling out your test from the week before, and you winced at the numerous red marks scattered across the front page alone.

“I know you’ve been struggling in this class,” he said, gazing at you almost pitifully.

You tried not to glower at the sight of his apologetic eyes trained on you, instead nodding your head slowly. “It’s been… hard,” you said slowly.

He leaned an arm on his chair, pushing your test toward you. “You ask questions in class,” he hummed, “and from what I’ve seen, you complete your homework diligently.” His smile fell. “Yet here you are me, with the lowest mark in my class.”

You wanted to shrivel up into a ball. Maybe he didn’t have to say it like that, but he wasn’t wrong, either.

At your silence, he prodded at you. “Is there anything going on at home that might be hindering you, or…?”

You whipped your head up, your eyes wide. “No! Things are—things are great. It’s just…”

You swallowed, then sighed, fidgeting your fingers on your lap. “I guess,” you murmured, trying to quell the shame flaring up inside you, “I’ve just been really struggling with the material, and none of it’s really been clicking.”

Mr. Craftson’s face softened in an instant. “That’s alright. Thank you for being honest with me. If my teaching hasn’t been working out with you…”

He paused, rubbing at the blond stubble on his chin for a moment. Then, his face lit up and he leaned forward. “Tell you what,” he said. “I’ve got a great student who I think might be able to explain things to you in a way you might be able to grasp a little better. He’s got the best marks in this class.”

Your eyes widened. The best in the class? He had to be a genius.

“I have a good feeling he can meet you tomorrow at four after school to help you out,” he continued, leaning against the arm rest of his office chair. “What do you say?”

You blinked, a thoughtful look passing over your face. Lord knew you needed the help—you were practically failing the class—but an uneasy stone settled into the pit of your stomach. You’ve never needed tis much help to pass a class before. The thought made you want to gag. Slowly, you opened your mouth.

“Do I have to…” You gestured vaguely. “Pay him or something?”

His cerulean eyes blinked at you for a second, then he laughed—the kind of deep-belly laugh only teachers seemed to be able to have. “No, no,” he said, waving his hand at you, “not at all. He’s a good kid. He wouldn’t do something like that.”

You bobbed your head, your insides crumbling. You didn’t want to accept, you really didn’t. Part of you guys wanted to believe that you could just work harder, study by yourself even more. You were a dedicated student, and you were doing just fine in all your other classes. Surely the content couldn’t get that much harder, right?

But as your gaze lowered to the red ink staining your test once more, you felt yourself swallowing the lump in your throat. Straightening your back, you let your stubborn pride seep out of your shoulders and onto the floor.

It looked like this was a sacrifice you were simply going to have to make.

“Thank you so much for the offer,” you said, letting your lips curl up into a genuine, grateful smile. “It—it really means a lot.”

Mr. Craftson grinned at you, an easygoing flint shining in his eyes. “Of course. You’re a bright student. Sometimes we all just need a little push.”

You could still remember shaking his hand in thanks before bundling your stuff in your arms and shuffling into the hall, tucking your feet between the pages of your textbook. That had been yesterday, and now, the same one was sitting on your desk, open to a new page full of jumbled words you could hardly decipher.

The chair across from you was distinctly empty.

He—whoever he was—was late.

You distantly wondered to yourself who your tutor even was, your gaze drifting down to your textbook. Mr. Craftson had said he was the best student taking the class. Would it be George? He always seemed like he knew what was going on, and he never really asked questions. But sometimes, he looked like he was just zoning out. Maybe it was Technoblade. He was smart. You paused, then shook your head. No, everyone knew he was one of those English kids.

The thought made you furrow your brows, wracking your head even more. The words on the page grew muddled and fuzzy as you thought even more. Just who was it?

Just then, you heard the classroom door swing open with the same loud creak every door in the school seemed to have. The sound of heavy breaths and panting filled the air, then a haggard voice spoke up.

“Hey, I’m so sorry I’m late.”

You didn’t look up from your page, letting a sigh escape your lips as you lifted your head. Plastering a polite smile to your face, you let your gaze travel toward your tutor. “Hi, it’s nice to me—”

Suddenly, your voice died in your throat as your eyes locked onto the figure standing in the doorway. Towering over the desks with a duffel bag resting against his hip, his dirty blond locks were damp and matted against his forehead, his emerald eyes blinking at you. Something bitter and warm twisted in your gut at the sight, and the smile dropped off your face and into a scowl.

“Oh,” you said flatly. “It’s you.”

The smile he offered you was easygoing, but you didn’t miss the strain in his gaze. “It’s me.”

You bit on the inside of your cheek, your heart practically revolting against your rib cage with the way it was hammering. A million questions were darting around the inside of your skull, only making your blood boil even more with each passing second.

Of all the people you had expected to show up, Clay was easily the last.

The two of you had first met back in freshman year in your first science class—he had sat behind you and had the loudest laugh on the planet, or so you were convinced. You were quieter back then, but just as stubborn and snappish as now. Soon enough, one thing led to another, and you swore the two of you were suddenly enemies for life.

Although you couldn’t remember what had caused your little feud, you knew that he was the one who started it. He was loud and kicked your chair, he just loved to borrow your pens and never return them, and you could never figure out just why he loved to tease you so much. You don’t think you learned a single thing in that class, always distracted by the presence staring a hole into your back, and you wanted absolutely nothing to do with him.

Naturally, that meant your teacher assigned him to sit behind you for the rest of the year. To this day, you were convinced she hated you, and you still avoided her in the halls.

To say that science class was your least favourite would be an understatement, and soon enough, everybody was in on your hatred for each other. Clay never seemed to stop pestering you no matter how hard you tried to ignore him, and you would never forget the day you finally snapped at him, whipping around to glare at him with your cheeks on fire.

“Will you please shut up?”

The shocked look on his face was still burned into your memory as it melted into a wide, proud grin.

“Only if you make me.”

Even years later, he always seemed to find a way to worm himself back into your life, and you hated it. You hated him, simple as that.

So, seeing him standing in front of you like this, it took every ounce of your strength to keep your voice as neutral as possible.

“What took you so long?”

He patted his duffel bag before slipping it off his shoulder and setting it on the ground. “I just finished football practice. Coach ran a little long and I figured it would be polite to take a shower before so I didn’t smell all sweaty when I tutored you.”

You blinked, your mouth falling open. That explained his wet hair, you guessed. While you were vaguely flattered, you were distracted by something else. “You knew that you would be tutoring me?”

Clay nodded, pulling back the chair in front of you. “Yeah. Phil asked me.”

You gaped. “You call Mr. Craftson by his first name?”

His smile was a touch too smug for your liking, and you wanted to wipe it off his face. “Maybe. I was surprised when he asked, though.” He wrinkled his nose and shot you a teasing smirk as he sat down. “I didn’t think you would be failing this class.”

You glowered, that same bitter feeling bubbling up in your chest, again. “I’m not failing,” you snapped. “I’m just…” You paused, your cheeks growing hot. “…not passing.”

He gave you a deadpan look, then laughed. “That’s the same thing.”

You sent him a gesture that your teacher most certainly would have scolded you for if he was here, and he laughed even harder. You were suddenly reminded of just how damn loud his laugh was, sounding like fireworks in your ears. Slumping over, you hung your head in your hands.

“Ugh. I can’t believe you knew you were going to be tutoring me of all people.” You paused, then added, “I can’t believe you agreed.”

He tilted his head at you, brushing his damp hair out of his face. “Did you not know I was gonna be your tutor?”

“No.” You frowned. “If I did, I wouldn’t have shown up.”

His eyes flickered with mirth as a smile stretched across his face. “Aw, am I really that disagreeable?”

“Yes,” you said immediately, your gaze as sharp as a blade. “Without a doubt. A hundred percent. I didn’t even have to think about it.”

He whistled, feigning a wince. “Harsh.”

Wryly, you said, “You deserve it.”

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk. “I wasn’t that bad as a freshman, was I?”

You gave him a hard, callous stare. “Do you really think I’m the one you should be asking that question?”

He thought about it for a moment, then sighed. “Okay, point taken.”

You dragged a hand over your face, then pointed at your textbook. “Are you going to teach me now or what? We’re already behind.”

He winced for real this time, and you almost felt bad for him. Almost. “Sorry, again.”

“Seriously,” you muttered under your breath, reaching into your back to grab your pencil case, “and to think that you have the highest grades in this class.”

“Hey,” he shot back, “I’m brains and brawn.”

You shot him a look that was nothing short of disgusted. He cringed a little at the sight.

“Okay, that was cheesy, but I’m not wrong. Besides, coach says I have to keep my grades up or else I’m off the team.” He leaned closer to you, and you tried to ignore the feeling of his hot breath fanning over your skin. “You know I can’t let everyone down like that.”

You looked unconvinced. “Uh huh. Totally.” Whipping out a pencil, you tapped at the bottom of the page you had open. “Can you explain this to me, now? The sooner we get this done, the sooner we can leave.”

He quietly chuckled, and you hated how soft it sounded. Leaning closer to the textbook to read, his lips mouthed the problem silently. You tried not to stare at his mouth as it moved, your gaze tracing over the soft dip of his lips as his viridian eyes flashed with recognition. A moment later, he sat back and cocked his head at you.

“So, what exactly do you not understand?”

You didn’t miss a beat. “Everything.”

He blinked, disbelief colouring his features. “Everything? Like, the whole thing?”

You scowled. “I thought that was obvious. All that stuff about velocity and the funny diagrams—” You shook your head. “—none of it makes sense.”

He raised a brow at you. “I thought you were paying attention in class. You really don’t understand a single thing?”

You bit back the urge to scream. “It’s not like you’re much smarter.”

Clay snorted derisively. “I am. That’s kind of the whole point.”

You groaned, letting your voice ring out in the quiet of the empty classroom. You caught a glimpse of his amused smile in front of you, and it only made you groan louder.

“You’re the one who ruined science for me, you know? I hated going to that class, and look at me now.” You gestured to yourself, using your finger to draw a ring in the air. “It all comes full circle.”

There was a brief second of silence. “I’m the reason why you hate science?”

You didn’t budge. “I wasn’t exactly jumping for joy knowing I was going to be stuck in a class with someone who never gave me my stuff back and kicked my chair.”

Another wave of silence washed over the two of you, but this one was tense—heavy. He swallowed, and you watched his Adam’s apple bob.

“You…” His eyes swirled with something sad and honest. “You really hate me that much?”

He suddenly looked a lot like a kicked puppy, and a pang of guilt shot through your chest like a bullet. With a panicked gaze, your voice grew shaky as you spoke. “I—I don’t hate you. I just… I had a grudge, I guess.”

Your tone grew soft, and you lowered your gaze to your lap. “I… I really didn’t like you back then, but things have changed.” You offered him a small smile, but it felt shy. “We’re not exactly fourteen, anymore.”

He returned your smile with one of his own. Just like yours, it was small and tender, and it sent something stirring in the depths of your belly. “No,” he murmured, “we’re not.”

“I,” you breathed, gulping down the last dredges of your grudge, “was stubborn back then.” You raised a shoulder. “In a way, I still am. I have too much pride for my own good too, but I don’t hate you.” The look you sent him had a spark of mischief, and his breath hitched. “Strongly dislike, at best.”

Clay blinked at you, looking half-surprised and half-awed at you. You squirmed under his gaze before he snapped out of his stupor, almost bashfully ducking his head. “I’m… It’s definitely too late for me to say this now when I really should have said it all those years ago, but I’m sorry. Really. I was a dick.”

You snorted under your breath, fondly mumbling, “Yeah, you were.”

His face perked up at the sound of your bitten back laugh. “I really shouldn’t have teased you so much. My reasons were… dumb.”

You cocked a brow at him, almost as if to say, Oh? Do elaborate.

But instead, you watched as his ears burned crimson red and he flashed you a pair of bright, pleading eyes. “Forgive me? Please.”

Your heart leapt into your throat, something new and warm bursting along the seams of your lungs. You couldn’t possibly say no to a face like that. Even the toughest person on the planet would crack under a look as sincere as that, you tried to reason, ultimately letting out a sigh with a stammer.

“O-Only if you actually can get me to understand this unit.” Pushing down the heat creeping up your neck, you pointed at him with an accusatory look. “Until then, you’re on thin ice.”

The grin he sent you was beyond dazzling—you couldn’t have brought yourself to look away even if you wanted to.

(And you didn’t.)

“Gotcha.”

Clay finished scribbling a diagram onto the new page of your notebook, flicking his thumb back to reveal the hordes of previous pages you had filled with other practice problems. If you were being honest, you were a little envious of just how neat his drawings were. No one should be able to draw a line as straight as that without a ruler, yet here he was, doing exactly that.

What a show-off.

Feeling your eyes on him, Clay lifted his head to catch your gaze, turning the notebook to face you. You tried to pretend the stumbling of your heart wasn’t because of him—not at all. “Do you get it?” he breathed.

You glanced back and forth between him and your page, your grip on your pencil falling slack. “I think so,” you said slowly. “Mostly, at least.”

He hummed for a moment, then flipped your notebook around until it was facing him again and holding an expectant, open hand toward you. Without even thinking, you dropped your pencil into his palm, a spark running up your fingers at the slight brush of his skin against yours. Carefully, he wrote a string of words on a new line, circling the sentence when he was done.

“Here,” he said gently, pushing the pencil back between your fingers, “try this question. This was one of the harder ones from my test.”

Gingerly, you peered down at the page, and your mouth fell open at the sight. This question was far more complicated than anything you had been solving in the textbook before this. What was he thinking?

“If you get it right,” he said suddenly, casting you out of your thoughts, “you should be all set.” His lips curved up into a taunting, knowing grin. “But it’s okay if you don’t get it—it is difficult, after all.”

You stared for a second longer, then grumbled under your breath. How could he read your mind like that? You were going to prove him wrong, even if only to knock that smug look off his face.

Leaning down, you tackled the problem head on, your pencil flying across the page as you spelled out formulas and equations, doodling a diagram when you had to and pausing to think every other breath. Before you, you didn’t see Clay watching you with a soft, tender gaze, taking in the way your fingers fidgeted against your pencil when you stopped and how you chewed on your mouth when you got nervous.

You really were more endearing than you could ever know.

Suddenly, you let your pencil clatter against the table as you pushed your notebook toward him, eyeing your pencil scratches with a wary look. “Done.”

His viridian eyes gleamed with excitement. “Alright,” he said, plucking the paper from your desk with a practiced ease, “let’s take a look.”

His gaze scanned your work intently, his lips pressed together in focus. You folded your hands onto your lap, trying to focus on his analysis of you work. But the longer you looked, the more you felt your gaze trailing up to graze his cheeks. Did he always have so many freckles? You didn’t remember seeing him with this many as a freshman, but you also spent more time glaring at him than staring at him back then.

In a way, he was kind of... pretty. Handsome, even. Not that you would ever say it out loud.

You suddenly had a strong urge to reach up and trace feather-light lines between each of his freckles, but before you could even take another breath, Clay’s eyes were on yours again. Unlike earlier, the look on his face was grave, and a small grimace overtook his features.

“I have bad news,” he said dryly.

Your heart fell.

Of course you got something wrong. You were a fool to think that things would change just because Clay would be teaching you instead.

But then, his grimace curled up at the corners, and your jaw dropped.

“I have nothing left to teach you in this unit.”

Your eyes widened.

“I got it right?”

He turned the notebook back to face you. A large check mark had been scribbled in pencil along the side of the page, a tiny smiley face decorating the corner next to it.

“Perfectly.”

The gasp you let out sent you barrelling for your feet, and you nearly started jumping for joy in the middle of your seat. “Yes!” you cried, pumping a hand up in the air. Suddenly, you whirled to point at Clay, a pout forming on your lips. “Oh my god, you scared the crap out of me! Don’t do that.”

He chuckled, leaning back with his hands up defensively. “Sorry, sorry. I saw the opportunity and just had to take it.”

Crossing your arms over your chest, you stuck your tongue out at him. “You’re terrible.”

His eyes softened—sincere and sweet. “I know.”

Ignoring the sudden burst of warmth rushing through your veins, you huffed at him. “Well, at least I have two pieces of good news for you. First,” you said, sliding your notebook off your desk, “we can both go home, now.”

“And the second?” he prompted, looking at you inquisitively.

You folded your notebook shut, boring a hole into your backpack with the intensity of your stare. You couldn’t look at him right now, you just couldn’t.

“Second,” you nearly whispered, “I accept your apology.”

Slipping your textbook into your bag, you heard him take a sharp intake of breath. “Really?”

You reached for your pencil case, fumbling with the zipper. “Yes.”

There was another breath, but this one was gentler, less harsh. You peeked up at him from your bag, and your heart stuttered at the ecstatic look on his face.

“This,” he said, “is the greatest day of my life.”

You blinked wildly at him, zipping your backpack up all the way before slinging it onto the desk. “That’s a little extreme, isn’t it?”

He shook his head, his smile never once faltering. “Are you kidding? I thought you were going to hate my guts forever!”

You shrugged, slinging your bag over your shoulder. “I might have.” You paused. “Actually, I probably would have. But luckily for you—” You shot him a sincere look. “—not anymore.”

His grin grew impossibly wider, yet it somehow still looked natural on him. Deep down, a part of you wanted to bottle up his expression and remember it for as long as you lived.

“Like I said, greatest day of my life.”

You giggled, rolling your eyes. “Weirdo.”

Pushing in your chair and gesturing for him to stand, you jutted your head toward the door. Clay didn’t need to be queued twice before he was rising to his feet, pushing the chair back to its rightful spot before heaving his duffel bag off the floor and onto his side. As the two of you headed out towards the door, a bought suddenly flickered across your head, and your lips began moving before you could even begin to think.

“One of these days, you need to tell me why you liked to pick on me so much. Like, seriously, why me?” You gestured to yourself as the two of you stepped outside into the school hallway. “I’m not exactly special.”

You hadn’t been looking at him in that moment, focused on closing the door behind you, but when he didn’t respond for a moment, you looked up and felt your lungs tighten. You had never seen Clay look so bashful in his life, with his ears flaring crimson red and a faint rosy tint dusting the panes of his cheeks. His freckles were only more noticeable with the pink background, and you nearly blurted something you knew you would regret.

“Maybe I’ll—” He coughed, rubbing the back of his neck with a smile. “I’ll tell you some other time.”

Before you could even ask what he meant by that, he was firing off once more. “In the meantime, if you still need help, I don’t mind coming in again next week or something.”

You nearly took a double take. Next week? He wanted to help you, again?

“Don’t you have more important things to do?” you asked, scanning him with wide, curious eyes. “Like studying your own stuff.”

“You’re important,” he said abruptly.

You choked on your spit, and by the way he went absolutely stock still in front of you, you had a feeling he hadn’t meant to say that.

“Oh,” you whispered.

That warm, fuzzy feeling from earlier was rising between your lungs again, only this time it sent your heart racing around your chest. Sucking in a deep breath, you nodded your head once, twice.

“Sure,” you managed to say as calmly as you could. “The, um, the next unit looks a little confusing, so I might need some help.”

Clay’s face suddenly brightened at your soft request for assistance, and you caught his shoulders slumping with relief as he smiled. “Awesome.” He paused, then waved his hand. “Not the part about you needing help, I mean.”

You laughed a little at that, your nerves calming a bit more. “I would hope not.”

He smiled back at you. “So,” he said, drawing out the syllable, “I’ll be back same time next week?”

You couldn’t help but reach over to elbow him a little playfully. “Try to be on time though, yeah?”

He flushed a bit, but cracked a crooked grin nonetheless. “I’ll try my best.” He glanced over his shoulder down the hall, and you suddenly realized you would be heading in the opposite direction.

“I’ll see you around?” he murmured gently, brushing away his now dry hair from his forehead.

One of your hands tightened around the straps of your bag while the other waved back at him. “See you.”

With one last grin at you, you watched as he turned on his heel, striding down the hall with his duffel bag bouncing against the side of his hip. Just then, your eyes grew wide, and you cupped your hands around your mouth to call after him.

“One last thing, Clay!” you shouted, your voice echoing down the empty corridor.

At the sound of his name, he whipped around again, his brows knitted together. Breathing in deeply, you screwed your eyes shut and called out once more.

“Thank you!”

When you opened your eyes again, his emerald green eyes were blinking at you with wild abandon, his lips parted in what could only be described as a look of pure wonder. Your heart skipped a beat, and you wondered why he was looking at you of all people like that.

Swallowing, he sent you a lopsided, earnest smile and cupped his own hands around his mouth to shout back at you.

“Anytime!”

You kept waving at him even after he let his arms drop back to his sides and he vanished around the corner of the hall. Almost immediately, you bent over to bury your head into your knees, letting out a soft, muffled yell.

Why did your chest feel so warm when he looked at you like that? Why did you want to count his freckles so badly when he smiled? Was he always so nice, so helpful and kind? Why did he look so cute when his face flushed all pink like the way it did before? When did he become so endearing instead of annoying?

Did you like him?

You let out another muffled cry into your hands, feeling heat flood every part of your body like a tidal wave crashing into your system. You could hear your heart ringing in your ears like a bell that wouldn’t ever stop, and your toes curled into your shoes.

You had so, so many questions, none of which you knew how to solve.

Hopefully Clay could help you figure out the answers.

[soft--dragon]

Of Bothers And Brothers

This was written for my dear friend Candle who's birthday was last week! Hope you guys enjoy ^^

Word Count: 2,834

Warnings: None

This is a SFW tickle fic, if you don’t like that then don’t read :)

Don’t get Techno wrong, he dearly loved his dumb internet friends. The small family he was a part of; the Sleepy Bois Inc, was something he appreciated deeply. Phil, a close friend, Tommy, a lovable little brother, and Wilbur? Really getting on his nerves right now.

He’d come to the UK to visit his internet family and friends, and was living at Phil's because the man refused to let him stay in a motel.

"Why waste money when you can just reinforce the family dynamic? Besides, Kristen would kill me if you didn't stay here, she's been looking forward to meeting you."

His words warmed Techno inside and out, Phil cooing at his glowing flush over discord as he tried to reply coherently. It was useless. He'd given in, only because Kristen was terrifying when she wanted to be. Phil was probably half joking about dying to her hand.

Besides he'd been wanting to bully Phil alongside his wife for ages now. Who was he to pass up the opportunity?

Now though, he truly wished he'd picked the motel. Wilbur and Tommy had come to stay at Phil's too, both incredibly eager to meet their fellow brother at last.

Tommy had latched onto him like a koala after Techno reassured him he didn't mind the contact. Wilbur, after getting his fair share of 'Techno Hugs', then settled on seeing how far he could push Techno's patience.

The American was kicked back on the couch, Tommy still coiled around him like a loving snake. Phil was on another chair with Kristen beside him, watching as Wilbur practically jumped up and down as he ranted about games he could best Techno in.

"Just Dance! Come on, no way you could be good at that!"

"I hold the best record in my household Wil, no one's ever beaten me and you won't be the first."

"He's right mate, he sent me photos of his high score, don't even try it" Phil called from beside Kristen.

Wilbur huffed but trusted Phil's word so he looked back to Techno with a calculating gaze. "Wii Sports, you and me, tennis, baseball, golf?"

Techno yawned obnoxiously, making Tommy giggle as he rose and fell with Techno's chest. "My entire childhood Wilbur, I'm more experienced than you by a long shot, I was a recluse for years, what do you think I did in that time?"

Wilbur grumbled, taking his word for it as he scrambled for other ideas. "Uh, Mario Kart! I could totally kick your ass at Mario Kart! Phil has actual steering wheels for it!"

"I'm the champion at racing games Wil, I bet Minecraft with a steering wheel, get on my level" Techno drawled, giving Tommy a fist bump when the boy raised his fist with a grin.

Wilbur growled much to their amusement, pacing a bit as he tried to come up with something he could win against the American. Techno allowed his gaze to drop down to Tommy who was leaning more and more heavily into his side.

"Getting tired Toms?" He muttered quietly, his voice going softer instinctively. Growing up with siblings taught you some things.

Tommy hummed, eyelashes fluttering a little in sleepy blinks. "I can move if you want…?"

Techno gently scratched at Tommy's scalp, smiling when the teenager practically melted into his side. "Nah, you're okay-"

"I bet I could beat you in an actual fight!"

That caught Techno's attention. He flicked his gaze up and raised a brow at Wilbur who was standing steady in front of him. "Really?" He asked.

Wilbur nodded. "Undoubtedly."

Techno levelled Wilbur with a deadpan look, then dropped his eyes down to Tommy who was watching tiredly. “Tommy.”

The blonde blinked a little at the American, giving a hum of question.

“Mind sitting up for me please? Your big brother has to go deal with this nerd.”

Tommy giggled and eased himself off of his friend's side, Techno ruffling his hair in passing as he stood up from the couch. Wilbur immediately broke into a grin at Techno's compliance, lifting his fists into a fighting position.

“Ohhhhh, let’s go pig man!” He cheered, “show me what your gamer-man arms can do!”

Techno smirked and cracked his knuckles, making a show of shaking his hands out and rearing up to fight. “You really wanna go Soot? Think you could handle this guy?”

Wilbur jumped from side to side, a playful glint dancing in his eyes. “Hell yeah, come at me, come face the Wilbur!”

“Oh god, not the Wilbur!” Techno gasped in mock horror, stumbling back a bit to add to the act. If anything, it only egged Wilbur on more.

“Yeah! The Wilbur! You’re gonna get it now!”

Phil sighed heavily, rubbing a hand over his face in exasperated fondness while Kristen cheered from beside him. “Get his ass Techno!”

Wilbur gaped at Kristen, a mock offended look on his face as he briefly lowered his arms. “What the heck Mumza?! I thought you were on my side?!”

Looking away was his worst mistake. Techno took the opportunity to lunge for Wilbur, wrapping his arms around his waist and taking them both to the floor. A shriek left Wilbur’s mouth as he hit the ground, squabbling with Techno with yelps of protest as he smacked at Techno’s hands that were trying to pin him down.

“Yeahhh! Get em Tech!”

“Please don’t break anything!”

“Come on Techno! Take him down!”

Techno grinned at the yells behind him, managing to nab one of Wilbur’s flailing wrists and force it to the floor. The brunette screeched, his other hand coming up to push at Techno’s face, laughter started to tumble out of him.

“Yohou dihick! Lehemme uhup!”

“Stay dohown, crihime boy!” Techno’s deep chuckles followed Wilbur’s, his laughter was incredibly infectious.

“Mahahake mehe!” Wilbur playfully growled back, pressing his hand firmer against Techno’s cheek to force his head up more.

Techno’s spare hand went to shove at Wilbur's shoulder, but due to his blindness with the man forcing his head away, he missed the mark and his fingers grazed Wilbur’s armpit. Wilbur squealed, ripping his hand down and curling away from Techno. The room was deathly silent for a long while. Enough time passed for Wilbur to hesitantly lift his head from where he’d pressed it to the floor. He wished he hadn't looked.

Techno was grinning at him with half lidded eyes, a calculating look in the brown irises. Wilbur subconsciously curled his shoulders in with an anticipating smile, nerves in his eyes. “W-What? What is it?”

“Hmm, n’thing” Techno hummed, “just noticed a little something interesting about my younger brother is all.”

“B-By three minutes-”

“Yes yes, only by three minutes” Techno snickered then proceeded to use a finger to drag down Wilbur’s pinned arm.

Wilbur gasped and shoved Techno’s hand away, a squeak leaving his lips. “T-Tehech- Techno no” he tried to growl, but it was more of a high pitched yelp. Techno chuckled again, snatching up Wilbur's free hand and pinning it alongside his other one. “Oh now this is very interesting. Phil? Toms? Kristen? Did you know about this?”

Phil chuckled from the couch. “Yeah, his knees are the worst, his hips as well.”

Wilbur gave a choked sound, staring at the man in horror. “Phil!”

“Although if you use your nails on his neck he gets really, really giggly” Kristen added.

“Kristen what-?!”

“Oh, oh, and also if you claw at his ribs or stomach he’ll squeal” Tommy perked up from the couch.

The brunette was flushed pink, a rush of stuttering words tumbling from his lips. “What- no no- Tech don’t listen to them-”

Techno grinned, "nah, I think I will."

He brought a hand down to gently skitter his nails underneath Wilbur's jaw, eyes lighting up when the man immediately clamped his eyes shut and pursed his lips, a wide smile breaking out across his face.

"Come on Wil" he coaxed, "lemme hear your laughter~"

Wilbur stubbornly shook his head, cracking an eye open to glare at the man.

“Oh? Trying to hold it in aye?” Techno hummed, grinning at Wilbur who was fighting for his life to keep it together. "I grew up with siblings Wil, I could do this aaaall day~"

His nails brushed over Wilbur's collarbone, grinning at the squeak that was produced though the man tried to muffle it.

"I wonder how long you could handle this for" Techno thought out loud, making sure to keep his touch featherlight to keep Wilbur on edge. "Such one finger hmm? Let's start with that."

He slowly dragged his index finger along Wilbur's exposed arm, slow and steady but unbearable. Wilbur was squirming against the soft sensation, but still keeping his mouth shut.

"No? You can handle one? Alright then, two it is~"

To Wilbur's horror, Techno brought his hand back up and used both his index and middle fingers to drag down his arm again, occasionally wiggling them the barest margin.

"Tktktktktktktk~" Techno whispered into Wilbur's ear, adding a third finger without warning and repeating his process. "Oohh, I see your smile getting bigger, I think he's gonna breeaaak~"

Wilbur then burst into high pitched giggles, his laughter strangely like a hyenas as he tried to push his red face into his arm. "T-Tehehech!"

"And he's gone ladies and gentlemen!" Phil called like an announcer from the couch, gaining laughter from Tommy and Kristen and a fond eye roll from Techno.

"Alright then Sooty" the American turned all his attention onto the man before him. "Let's really get you laughing hmm?"

With that, he used Tommy's advice and began to claw at Wilbur's ribs. The man was thrown into bouts of laughter, loud cackles that were bouncy and happy. Though he shook his head and protested through his mirth, his eyes were shining with genuine joy. Whether it be from messing around with Techno for the first time in real life or from the tickling, Techno didn't know. He wasn't sure which one was more endearing.

Wilbur managed to yank an arm out but all it did was flop uselessly on the ground, Wilbur too caught up in his laughter to realise he'd freed one of his limbs. Techno snorted, scribbling over Wilbur's stomach quickly.

"Never knew you could laugh like this Will, kinda cute honestly~"

"Fuhuck- fuhuck ohohohoff!" Wilbur whined, kicking his heels into the ground as he giggled.

Techno grinned, taking his hands from Wilbur’s stomach and turned to Phil. “Hey old man, anywhere else I should try?” he started to ask when sudden rapid squeezing to his right side made him jolt away with a yelp. “AHAHahaye! Whahat-?”

Wilbur managed to snag the opportunity and locked his legs around Techno, forcing him to roll over onto his back. Wilbur shot up, pinning Techno down as he panted breathlessly from his laughter but his grin was smug. "Mihiy tuhurn bitch!"

He immediately started scribbling at Techno's lower back and side ruthlessly, not leaving a single ticklish stone unturned. The American broke into high laughter much to the surprise of the other occupants in the room, his bubbly giggles squeaking and hiccuping as he tried to push out protests.

“W-WAhahahit! WihihIHIHIHIL OHOHohoh gohohods-! H-Hahahahang ohohon!” He gasped, attempting to roll onto his back but Wilbur kept him down, starting to scratch at Techno’s sensitive flank.

Techno shrieked at the sudden change of tactics, squirming against the sensations desperately as he laughed. “WIHIHIHIL!”

“Told you I could win Tech! I told you! Never challenge the Wilbur!” Wilbur crowed, skittering his nails against the soft skin and cackling when Techno bucked with a squeal.

“WIHIHIHILL! NOhohohoho plehehEHEHAHAHAHA-” His words were lost in his laughter that he desperately tried to push down so he could fight back. It was useless however, because Wilbur dropped his head and blew a raspberry onto where his back met his sides.

Techno dropped like a sack of bricks, pushing his face into his arms to try and muffle the uncharacteristic cackles spilling free.

“Awwwww!” Phil fawned from the couch, quickly followed by Kristen’s adoring coos beside him. It made Techno’s ears burn red and smile widen.

“Oh my god! He’s blushing guys! He’s blushing, oh my god!” Wilbur gasped happily, slipping his fingers in the exposed space between Techno and the floor to skitter across his belly.

A yelp left Techno’s lips as he tried flattening himself to the floor in an attempt to block the man’s fingers, but it only pressed them into his stomach more. Wilbur giggled to himself when the American squealed and tried to smack away his arm.

“Something wrong Techie? You’re quite giggly there~” Wilbur hummed, pinching up and down Techno’s ribs, occasionally kneading in the spaces between the bones.

“Wilbur try his shoulder blades” Tommy spoke sleepily from the couch, lying on his side and watching with a grin.

Techno gave an indignant squawk that dissolved into a squeaky hiccup as Wilbur followed Tommy’s advice and scratched at the bones.

Wilbur grinned at the reaction, lifting his eyes to the blonde. “Good call Toms!”

Tommy smirked. “It works on you, figured it would be the same for your twin.”

“Oh fuck off.”

Phil cackled, leaning back and sharing a grin with Kristen. “Wilbur, you’re gonna kill Techno at this rate.”

“Nahhhh, he’ll be fine” Wilbur shrugged, dropping his head again to blow a mini raspberry into Techno’s shoulder blades and grinning when Techno frantically smacked the ground in fits of laughter.

Phil snickered fondly, lifting a brow. “You sure? Dunno how we’re gonna explain to his parents you accidentally murdered their son.”

Wilbur paused for a moment, screwing up his nose in thought. It allowed Techno to gain his breath and melt into the floor. He was a mess. His hair was mussed up from frantically shaking his head, his blush had taken over his whole face, and he had a smile so big it made his eyes squint.

“That’s a fair point” Wilbur hummed eventually, getting off at the American and sitting back on his hands with a mischievous giggle.

“You good Tech?” Kristen asked with an amused laugh.

The man let a breath that shook with leftover giggles. “Yehehah….yehehah I’m good” Techno grumbled, sitting up from the floor to glare at Wilbur who was smirking at him.

“Admit it Techno” he grinned, “admit that I won.”

Techno raised a brow at him, half tempted to stuff the brunette into a headlock and give him an aggressive noogie. On the other hand however...the three other occupants of the room did give him some helpful insight to Wilbur’s sensitivity.

“...Wilbur,” Techno spoke dangerously, glaring at his ‘twin’ playfully, “I refuse to admit defeat so early.”

He lunged at Wilbur without warning, taking amusement from the high pitched yell from the brunette as the man’s weight took him down to the floor again. He immediately struggled to fight back, knowing the second he let Techno get the upper hand, he was screwed.

Techno however, didn’t mind playing dirty.

He latched onto Wilbur’s hip and squeezed quickly, smirking when the brunette immediately fell back with a screech. Techno then quickly pinned his legs by sitting on them and squeezed at his knees with no mercy.

Wilbur, known to be very classy and elegant in his day to day life, honest to god arched off the floor with a scream. He was a frantic mess of babbling words and hysteric laughter. He attempted to sit up on an arm to fight back but his laughter had weakened his movements considerably. He’d never been able to handle his knees being tickled.

“TEHEHEHECH! TEHEHECHNOHOHOHO!” Wilbur shrieked, feebly smacking at Techno’s shoulders in the midst of his cackles.

The American grinned, wide and playful. "Admit it!" he challenged loudly.

"NEHEHEVER!"

Techno dropped a hand underneath one of Wilbur's knees to scribble against the sensitive skin, chuckling when Wilbur kicked frantically but couldn't move his hands.

"TEHEHEHECH!" Wilbur held his stomach as he pounded a fist into the floor, his flush practically glowing.

Techno only laughed. "Admit defeat Soot!"

Wilbur shook his head desperately, trying to withstand the fireworks of sensation tingling all across his knees but it was all he could focus on. Techno then leaned his weight away so he could lift up Wilbur's leg, raking his nails up and down the underside in an endless pattern. Wilbur had tears pricking his eyes before he finally cracked.

"YOHOHOU WIHIHIN! YOHOHOU WIHIHIN TEHEHECH!"

Techno cackled, thankfully easing up on the tickling and dropping Wilbur’s leg, looking over his shoulder at Wilbur who was flushed bright red with a wide grin splitting his face. He wheezed out a laugh, smacking Techno’s shoulder once more before collapsing onto his back in fits of giggles.

“Soooo, what was that you said Wil? You could beat me in a fight? Isn't that what you told me?”

Wilbur smacked him on the back weakly, a giggly whine pulling from his throat. “Yohou’re soho mehehean!”

Techno snorted. “L,” he said simply.

[aressss1]

I’m Yours

(Technoblade x Reader)

Request:  Alright I have a request, so like monarch techno is pretty cool but what if he had a royal guard and asked them to taste test the food and it practically turned into a date because he just keeps feeding them.

A/N: I had a hard time writing this one, but I hope you like it all the same!

~~~~~~

You did your duty, protecting your lord, the King of the Nether… The one and only Blood God. He didn’t need you by a long shot, he could protect himself, but he chose you as his head knight, his bodyguard. You had come to accept that you would probably just serve as a meat shield to him when the time came and nothing more. This was one of his sleepless nights, and you had to stay by his side. Being head knight meant more responsibilities… And very little sleep.

 You stood by the door of the dining hall, as your king waited for his food. Parts of the blackstone floor were shining red from the light the windows let in. That light shone over the king, as he seemed to be in thought. He held his chin in his hand as he stared off into space. Nights like these weren’t too bad, the King was always quiet… Always in his own head… He intrigued you.

Well… He did more than intrigue you… You spent many overworld moons pining after the hybrid King. He treated you like a dear friend, speaking to you as an ally not as a servant. But that could always be your mind playing tricks on you. So… You settled for servant, ready to lay your life down for him always.

 You tensed, your hand on the hilt of your sword as the doors opened revealing a maid with a silver platter in her hands. Her heels clacked on the blackstone, as she made her way over to the king. Setting the platter in front of him. She curtsied, a blush forming on her face. She was one of the new maids of the castle. His bored eyes settled on her as he waved her off, dismissing her.

 You kept your eyes forward as she left. The sound of her heels receding into the depths of the castle. The king looked at the dome that covered the food on the platter and he removed it, revealing his steaming hot supper. Your body straightened as he called your name.

 “Will you please test this for me?” His golden eyes sought you out and you swallowed down the lump in your throat. “You never know when someone… wants to poison the king.” So… you were now… a taste tester?

 “My lord?” You were confused. “Isn’t that the chef’s job?” You questioned. Oh, to be reduced to nothing more than a… poison detector…

 “I don’t see him out here.” The king kept his eyes on you, as he waved you over.

 “At your command… Sire.” Your words were almost bitter. You wanted to lay your life down for him but dying to poison was not an honorable way to die for your king… Making your way to the table he motions for you to sit down, and you do. He sat at the head of the long dining room table and you sat at his right side. You lean forward, grabbing his utensils, you start carving off a piece of the steak that lay on the platter. You take your bite of his steak, feeling his eyes watching you. You swallow, enjoying the taste. Nothing seemed amiss, so you put his utensils down next to the plate.

 “What about the rest of the meal?” His words were soft, as he motioned toward the bread, the potatoes, and the carrots on his plate. “Can’t afford to have the King die now, can we?” You deadpanned, was he… taunting you? You weren’t sure you appreciated that… You looked down at the seemingly harmless food in front of the both of you.

 “No, my lord…” You grumbled taking his fork in hand once again. Stabbing the fork into the carrot, the king’s eyes stayed on you as you raised the carrot to your mouth, you were starting to feel self-conscious… But this was for the safety of the king, it was your duty to protect him. When you had tasted everything that was left on his plate you pushed the plate back to him, standing up from your chair.

 “Did I dismiss you?” Your king's voice rang out in the dining hall and you felt a shiver run down your spine. You had heard that tone of voice from him before and while you were glad it was never directed at you, well… before now… Why in the hell were you so aroused when it was??? You shook your head sitting back down in your chair slowly. He rang a bell signaling the maid from before, asking her to bring another platter of food. He watches her leave before his eyes slide over to you.

 “Now…” His eyes settled on you, almost in a demanding way. “Since it seems that you do not like the food that I have to offer you… I’ll let you off easy. Your punishment shall be you finishing that plate of food since you don’t seem to like it.” You looked up at him quizzically, questioning him. His cheeks burned a deep red, and you let out a laugh, falling back in your chair.

 “Forgive me my lord but… Did you plan this?” The way the King looked away told you, yes… This was exactly what he was trying for. He was silent for a few seconds, his eyes eventually meeting yours.

 “…It’s been on my mind for a while… I just… couldn’t find the time to ask you. I couldn’t get you alone to ask you…” The king looked away, embarrassed. “Being king is busy enough, but you’re always workin’ on ways to protect the castle, I chose you for that reason… You are an amazin’ fighter, fightin’ by your side has and always will be a pleasure.” Your heart pounded, and butterflies made their rounds in your stomach.

 “You couldn’t have just requested an audience with me?” Techno shook his head, as he leaned up onto the table, his eyes leveling with yours.

 “Too many pryin’ eyes.” He looked down at his hands. “The… voices quiet down when I’m with you…” His cheeks burned as he took to studying his hands too closely, long nails tapping at the mahogany table. “I feel at peace with you.” The voices… He told you about his voices, made you swore not to tell anyone, for only you and Phil knew about them. It could be used as a weakness against the Nether King. You felt honored that he would even tell you.

 “My lord?” You bent forward trying to catch his eyes.

 “It is a knight’s duty to die for their king…” He didn’t meet your gaze, “I don’t want that for you.” Heartrate rising, you grip the arms of the chair you sat in. “The king isn’t supposed to want to die for the knight should the time ever rise...” It seemed like Techno had a lot of inner turmoil he was working through. “I don’t want to lose you.”

 With that, Techno stood abruptly, the chair letting out a groan against the blackstone flooring as he stands, he quickly kneels in front of you, just like you knelt in front of him when you were knighted. His pink hair and red cape pooling around him as he bows his head to you. You… were stunned. How were you supposed to react to this? Gods forbid anyone see this right now.

 “I may be a king, but that doesn’t mean anythin’, not when it comes to provin’ my worth to you.” Techno let out a shaky breath. “I pledge myself to you, mind, body and soul… If you’ll have me?” His eyes flit to your sword that hung on your hip. “Strike me down if I am unworthy.” You swore you could melt at this scene.

 “Techno…” The word felt strange on your tongue, you had never called him by his name before, well, not to his face anyway. Your hands slowly make their way to his face, the pads of your fingers swiping over his scarred face, as you lift his chin to look in his eyes. Without a word, you lean forward in your chair, the creak of the wood echoing out through the room as you did so. You pressed your lips to his, letting out a soft groan. This felt amazing, like the two of you were made for each other.

 You went forward off of the chair, your knees hitting the floor as you pressed yourself deeper into him and his kiss, he hesitantly wrapped his arms around you, the size of his body enveloping you. Tangling your fingers into his hair you felt tears springing forth. This man, who had pulled you out of battles to heal you with the finest potions, who treated you as an equal rather than a peasant, really thought he was unworthy of you. Your head spun at the thought.

 You pulled back for air, leaning your forehead against his. Eyes locked as the two of you regained your breath, your fingers still entangled in his locks. You loved the way his hands felt as they glided over your form. You were sure it would feel better once your armor was off, but for now this would have to do.

 “Be mine?” Techno looked for confirmation, and when you nodded his grip tightened on you. “Even with a whole kingdom to take care of?”

 “I’m yours,” You whispered it in his ear as you rested your head on his chest, taking in his scent. He was everything you wanted and more. The door of the dining hall opened once more and that was when the two of you split from each other standing from your position on the floor. The maid from before, taking note of both your hands intertwined in the others. The both of you were nothing but shy smiles as you moved your seat closer to his and you both ate the meal in front of you. Random conversation playing in the wind.

 There were preparations to be made. Changes to be had, but that was fine, just as long as you stood by your king… Technoblade.

[theshroomdude]

(Happy Valentine's Day to all you dreamnobladers. Techno POV drabble for you. As a treat. All fluff this time💗.)

He kept catching Dream working on something.

He'd quickly hide it, of course. Stuff it under his shirt or shove it under papers on the desk he had commandeered, and he'd play it off--badly. With a stupid grin and a laugh, a half-hearted joke or an off-handed question to change the topic. He didn't miss the quill on the desk or the red ink staining Dream's hands though.

It'd been like that for a few days now. He even found a few crumpled up pieces of paper in the waste bin and thought about unraveling them to see what had gone so wrong with them, but ended up leaving them be. It was Dream's business (and weird arts and craft endeavor) not his.

When he asked Phil what the heck Dream was doing though, Phil laughed. Which, admittedly, rude--but also, he didn't quite get what the joke was here. The guy was being a bit of a freak in his house, he figured it was a fair question to ask.

Apparently not...

Another day of everyone in his cabin being weird ended like it always did, with the wind trying its best to tear off the roof and the snow outside steeping in bright reds and oranges. He hadn't seen Dream all day. Not even a peep or a sign from him. Sighing, he marked an x through the makeshift calendar nailed to the wall; February fourteenth was drawing to a close...

Mug collected from the counter, he wandered to the armchair by the fireplace and settled down. A book rested, face down on the armrest, open to the last page he had stopped on. Picking it up, he sipped idly at the tea and grimaced. It could use some honey, but he wasn't about to get up to fix it. The spine of the book cracked as he opened it.

He managed to flip through a few more pages before footsteps crept up behind him. He glanced up, but didn't turn to see who it was. He knew Dream's walking pattern by now. Dream draped himself over the back of the chair and he flipped another page and didn't look up at him.

A hand snaked around to cover his eyes and he deadpanned, lips flattening. "What are you doing?"

Something was tossed into his lap, light and stiff enough it had to be made of paper or something similar.

"You gonna take your hand off or…?"

Dream laughed, hand retreating. "Happy Valentine's Day to you too."

Happy--his brain chunked over the words, like a cart bumping over roadkill. "Uh…"

"No way, no way--" Dream rounded the chair and crouched, grinning. "You forgot!"

"Look, c'mon, I--look, give me a break, man. This ain't exactly a Nether holiday."

"Just read your card, idiot."

He picked it up. Dream perched himself on the arm rest and watched. It was certainly a very red card. He glanced at Dream's still slightly dyed fingers. There had to be a better method out there, but his dedication to the craft was admirable. A whited-out heart cut out the red; two figures stood in the middle, one a strange blob with a smiley face and the other a pig with a little, cartoon crown, which he assumed was meant to be him. Flipping it open, he blinked. He wasn't sure how a card could hold that much glitter, let alone where Dream even got his hands on it.

There was another whited-out heart with something scrawled inside of it.

Hogs and kisses.

Don't go bacon my heart.

You had me at oink.

<3 Dream

"I couldn't settle on one so I just put all of them."

He folded the card back up and held it carefully. "Did Phil help with them?"

"Maybe."

"That explains a lot."

Dream laughed. "He was very proud of the hogs and kisses one."

"He would be."

"Well…" Dream started, fidgeting on the arm rest. "Do you like it?"

"Uh…" There was a feeling crouched in his chest, something like heartburn, but heavier. "Yeah."

Dream rolled his eyes. "Really feeling the love here."

He held the card close to his chest and the rasp of the glitter and crinkle of dried glue echoed far too loudly. "I don't have, uh…" He held the card out and looked at it, chest clenching. "I didn't make anything."

"That's fine." Dream leaned down and whispered in his ear. "I know a way you can make up for it."

He shivered, warmth crackling down his spine. Dream retreated before he could fully act and the empty space beside him soured, the fire offering little of the comfort it had before. Getting up, he placed the card above the mantle, setting it up carefully so it wouldn't fall, and followed after Dream.

[feelingofcontent]

DNP Rewatch: We're Moving Out

Date video was published: 04/25/2017 (X)

DNP Main Channel Rewatch: 342

I’m back from my holiday hiatus! This is a great video to start a new year of posts with.

Time for the moving (to the second London flat) announcement video! I already know I’m going to say way too much about this one. Dan teased this video before it was posted.

0:01 - I love Dan’s little knowing smile at the start that this is going to be a “big deal” sort of video

0:08 - “ascending to another dimension” is what Dan thinks would have to happen for Phil to stop making videos, apparently

0:11 - “none of us would be surprised if you were an alien, Phil” somehow I have no memory of that line in this

0:16 - they’re so deadpan about it, but also maybe they just seem exhausted

0:25 - oh my god at them having already lived together for almost 6 years total at this point all they was back in 2017...time has no meaning

0:35 - yeah Dan’s on that same page

0:38 - ahhhh, flashback to THE WARDROBE

0:44 - I love their commentary on this

0:50 - you can actually see this thought go through Phil’s head

1:11 -  love how casual they are about of course they’re moving to a new place together. (I remember lots of different speculation at the time, not just that they were moving but maybe moving to separate places...lol.) Dan’s stare at the camera says he’s seen some of that

1:20 - and in these shots they have things in such random places...the mess disturbs me but I guess understandable when getting ready to move

1:21 - lol at the box with the lemon humidifier from 5 Things I Regret Buying; very important to pack I guess

1:27 - king of comedy Phil emphasizing “stuff” in the annotation

1:33 - that would disturb me in a dark apartment at night

1:42 - flower crowns from Pastel Edits

1:48 - Phil is way too into that idea...and of course “we” could move

1:59 - Dan is already done with moving and they haven’t even actually moved yet

2:07 - Dan’s face as soon as Phil says “penetrated” is quite something

2:23 - Dan leaning in to Phil poking his head...alrighty

2:30 - more than 2 years actually...the first time Phil tweeted about being annoyed by drilling was 2012(!) and then several more times - 1, 2, 3

2:44 - frolicking with a non-specific celebrity here...Dan looks like he has heard Phil talk about this several times

2:55 - yeah that could not have been helpful for filming

3:24 - Phil with the sweet explanation

3:30 - they somehow have the thinnest...5:13 - and thickest walls of all time, lol

3:38 - Dan talked about these noises in the now-privated tour of the first London flat video he did shortly after they moved in

3:54 - those poor neighbors actually

4:20 - jumpcut into Dan giggling

4:36 - just yikes...also “crack-cam” and the battery slowly draining 😂

4:46 - again with the mess especially straighteners (that Dan’s not using at this point, btw...) and other things plugged in makes me so nervous

5:03 - footage from 2017 WANTS ME DEAD

5:24 - maybe why they moved into a much newer building here and a complete new-build for the forever home

5:30 - “that’s happened a few times” very nonchalant there

5:37 - don’t remember if that footage was ever in a video before, but Phil did tweet about mice back in 2013 (1, 2)

5:52 - even Phil’s sarcasm is coming out a bit here

6:00 - why did they keep that for so many years if they hated it

6:10 - I have questions but I don’t think I want to know the answer... 😳

6:16 - the props box! that comes as-is (to the filming flat)

6:22 - pretty sure that wig was a reject from the Pastel Edits video, not the anime video

6:28 - okay Phil...

6:32 - this is so cute and I love Dan’s little giggle behind the camera about them doing this

6:51 - awww, I love piano Dan and that he’s planning to get another one (and now... 😭)

6:57 - ahahaha...is the butt chair the thing Phil hates like Dan hates the golden pig?

7:12 - “that’s Phil’s request” 🥺 

7:13 - again with the mess, help

7:18 - would love to know about the decision to leave this bit in the video

7:37 - that does seem like the worst design decision

7:52 - we’re keeping the sofa crease (but only in the filming flat)

8:00 - Phil had also tweeted about injuring himself on that coffee table (1, 2)

8:14 - ahahaha, DanAndPhilCRAFTS

8:25 - it really was but they did make it work

8:37 - “they have definitely seen a lot of butts”...great. also Dan has a cross-stitch of one of his tweets there

8:40 -  🎵 too many stairs. too many stairs...too many stairs 🎵

9:01 - is that that bathroom window...you can definitely see through it 👀

9:10 - the reassurance there

9:24 - I love the “wot...no.” 😂

9:39 - awww Phil with his nostalgia

9:51 - also the reminiscing is too much 😭

9:54 - more from THE WARDROBE

10:08 - “this new place is going to look exactly the same...” I really think they had planned to mostly just show the filming flat (with most of the “Dan and Phil” stuff in it and keep the living flat private, but they got lazy with that pretty quickly after the move. The first glimpse of the living flat was on Phil’s Instagram.

10:19 - this is the last video on Phil’s channel from this flat. One more on Dan’s channel though

10:32 - this outro footage must have been filmed later after they had more packed

10:33 - I also want to talk about the post-it note system they seem to have in this. They don’t mention it here, but Phil talks about using a similar system during the next move. There are two post-it colors in this video: blue - 7:00 on the full-length mirror; 10:38 on the other full-length mirror; and pink - 7:50 on the lounge rug, 7:57 on the Hulk and Iron Man pictures; 10:35 on Dan’s bedspread (I think?) and the black desk; 10:38 on some of the art from Phil’s wall. I’m pretty sure they were using blue to indicate what went to the living flat and pink for what went to the filming flat, because that is where all of those things end up

I love this video a lot. I think they must have filmed this ahead of the Australia trip that I talked about in the last post, because they seem to have moved almost immediately after getting back. Although with DNP and their usual lack-of-planning-ahead, who knows, ahahaha.

They had moved (but were still unpacking) by April 27 when they did a live show from the new place. Dan also shared this amazing creep shot that Phil took the day before that. 

[nothoughtsonlynat]

Resurrect Me (N.R.)

Warnings: swearing; death; Hell/the Underworld; cliff jumping lol

Word Count≈ 3.1k (yikes lol my bad)

Hecate一 the goddess of magic, witchcraft, the night, the moon, ghosts, and necromancy. Known to be an intricate mosaic of good and evil, destruction and beauty. Capable of granting wishes, summoning the dead, resurrections, teleportation, warping realities on unfathomable scales, mind control, energy manipulation, and any sorcery or magic known to the Gods. Second only to Zeus himself.

I am the human embodiment of Hecate. I am not Hecate; she merely resides in the depths of my soul and provides me guidance. We do not communicate through words; she speaks through dreams and gut feelings, and sometimes even through signs in the outside world. I have not mastered the powers she’s granted me, nor have I reached my full potential. In addition to the Goddess’ powers, I hold the basic Olympian powers, such as superhuman speed and stamina. I have no recollection of how I merged with Hecate or the life I lived before this point, and she has provided me with no answers, but I do not question her motives. 

Agent Phil Coulson came across me in my temple in Turkey. Apparently, he had discovered strange energy readings coming from the temple. When he arrived, I used the power of energy manipulation to blow the concrete off of me, and that is the first thing I remember一 emerging from underneath Hecate’s temple.

I joined the Avengers during the Battle of New York. Agent Coulson had recommended me to Fury when he was piecing together the Avengers Initiative. In the three years between my awakening and the invasion, I practiced my sorcery mercilessly and studied Hecate deep in the Greek countryside. I’ve stuck with the Avengers throughout the years, fighting every battle alongside them. Through the ups and downs, I’ve fallen head over heels for Natasha Romanoff. One would assume that with so much power, I’d be confident and have any mortal begging at my feet. That couldn’t be any more inaccurate, however. As I’ve said, I am not Hecate; I am simply the human embodiment of the goddess. And as a human, I turn into a blushing, stuttering mess whenever the levelheaded assassin is near. Consequently, there have been many years of pining, but I’ve yet to muster up the courage to ask the woman on a date.

In our most recent war, we’ve gone up against a mad titan一 Thanos. We lost terribly. Half of all living things inhabiting the universe were snapped away. I can’t help but ponder whether things would’ve gone differently if I had better mastered my powers. I potentially hold all the capabilities of the goddess of magic; aside from Zeus, I hold more power than any being to ever exist. I’ve practiced my sorcery every day for the past five years on the off chance that we ever get a rematch一 a chance to bring everyone back. I’ve improved significantly, but Hecate has been oddly quiet for the past few years. It’s driving me crazy. I know she’s still there, but she hardly provides an ounce of guidance.

And so, that is where I find myself now一 practicing sorcery in the room specifically designed to isolate me when I use dark magic. Everyone who has access to the training section of the compound knows that they should never enter this room. It is far too dangerous for regular mortals. As I warp the room’s reality, a dark mist envelops me. When it clears, the room has changed into a 50s ballroom. I look down to see an elegant maroon ball gown covering my body, and I scan the empty area. I hear a pair of heels clicking toward me, and I spin around, already panicking. In order for someone to be here with me, they would have to be an inhabitant of the location’s true reality. My eyes land upon the woman I’ve grown to love, dressed up for the event. She is wearing an extravagant light blue ball gown, and her hair is carefully done up. 

“Natasha? What are you doing here?”

“Why I came to dance with you, of course.” She steps closer and drapes her arms around my neck, swaying to the nonexistent music. Stay calm. Don’t panic. There’s no way I’m making her do this. I’m not even doing anything! Of course I’m the one making her do this, who else would it be?! Breathe in. Breathe out. My powers don’t control me. I control them. Just breathe. I can do this. I know how to do this.

As I focus on the magic coursing through my veins, a black mist envelops us, and the room returns to its original form一 a basic training room with black padded walls. I immediately take a large step back from Natasha.

“What the fuck is wrong with you, Natasha?! You know you can’t come in here! I could’ve seriously hurt you!”

“I...I’m sorry. I thought you’d just be moving shit with your mind. I didn’t realize you could do...that, whatever that was.”

“That was reality manipulation. I didn’t know you were here and I don’t have full control of it, so you got caught up in it. Are you okay? Do you remember it?”

“Yeah, I remember it clear as day. I was still me and I was still in control, it was just...different, I guess.”

“Well, I literally warped your reality, so even if you felt in control, you might not have been.”

“You stopped it, though. I remember when that seemed impossible. You’re getting better.”

“Thanks, I guess.” I awkwardly scratch the back of my neck. “What did you come in here for in the first place?”

“This is gonna sound crazy, but Scott Lang is here. We might have a way to bring everybody back.”

“Wait, what? Holy shit. It’s happening. Okay, come on then!” I eagerly walk past her, grabbing her hand as I pass her, and we leave my training room. I realize that I’m still holding her hand as we make it to the meeting room, and I immediately drop it, clearing my throat. If I wasn’t so familiar with the sensation, then I would swear that my ears and cheeks are on fire.

<//>

We all step onto the platform in matching white and red time-travel suits. “We’re really doing this?”

“Hell yeah, we’re doing this,” Clint answers.

“Alright, then. We bring everybody back,” I say with determination. “Whatever it takes,” Steve adds.

“See you in a minute,” Natasha adds with a smirk. Before I can appreciate how beautiful she looks with the glimmer of hope in her eyes, we’re flying through a flurry of colors. Nebula, Natasha, Rhodey, Clint, and I land on Morag. We all say our respective goodbyes before Nat, Clint, and I get on a jet to head to Vormir.

<//>

“A soul for a soul.”

“What? That’s insane. Look, no offense, Mr. Bloody Tampon, but why should we just trust what you’re saying? Because you know their fathers’ names?”

“I didn’t.” I looked into Natasha’s eyes as she spoke and I instantly wish that I could replace the dull sadness with the bright hope that had filled them before.

“He doesn’t know my father’s name. If he’s some mystical being, then why can’t he tell me that?” I turned to face him as I asked the question.

“I’m afraid you are a mystery. I am meant to know everything about any being who seeks the stone, but I know nothing of your identity.”

“Hm. Seems like a load of bullshit to me,” I deadpanned.

“We need to do this. We need to bring everyone back. I’ve spent the past five years trying to reverse the snap, and now I finally know how to fix it. Let me do it.” As Natasha spoke, she grabbed both of my hands in hers.

“And I’ve spent every day for the past five years training to do this. I wasn’t just practicing sorcery and talking to dead people for fun, Nat. All I wanted was to do better一 to fix this. If anyone is jumping off that cliff, it’s gonna be me.”

“No. Absolutely not. Neither of you is dying for that stone. I’ve done horrible things these past few years. I’ve killed...so many people. It should be me,” Clint says, and Natasha and I turn to face him, but one of her hands remains in mine.

“No way in hell, Clint. And not you either, Nat. Both of you guys have families. You’re not sacrificing yourselves. I won’t let you. And you can’t stop me even if you try.” Nat gives me a questioning look as I mention her family and I speak in her head ‘I know about them, Nat. And they need you. She needs her big sister.’

“What are you saying?” I can hear the anxiety lacing Nat’s words, and it causes a pit to form in my stomach.

“I think you know what I’m saying, Natty.” 

“Then you don’t leave me much of a choice.” She shoots a Widow’s Bite toward me, but I stop it using energy manipulation without even having to lift a finger.

“You can’t beat me, Nat. Please, don’t fight me on this.”

“I call bullshit.” Out of the corner of my eye, I see Clint running toward the edge while we’re distracted, and I teleport in front of him, throwing him backward. I use mind control to force him to stay down. I sense Natasha running toward the edge behind me, and I teleport in front of her. I use energy manipulation to keep her in place, and I grab onto her biceps.

“I’m really sorry, Nat. I hate that I’m doing this to you, but I can’t let you throw yourself off a cliff for some stupid stone. Your life is worth so much more than that. You’re an amazing person, and your ledger was cleared of its red so long ago. Don’t let anyone tell you any different.”

“This is sounding an awful lot like a goodbye.”

“You can be sarcastic all you want, but I’m not walking out of this one, Natty.”

“Don’t do this. The team needs you.”

“No, they don’t, Nat, and we both know it. They need you.”

“And what if I need you?!”

“Well if that’s the case, you’ll figure it out, just like you always do. Don’t let something like this hold you back. Goodbye, Natasha Romanoff.” I kiss her cheek before turning around. I start walking towards the edge, but it quickly turns into a sprinting pace as I hear Nat screaming for me to stop. Just before I reach the edge, I lift the mind control from Clint and I release Nat, just in case it doesn’t automatically lift when I die. I push myself off the cliff, turning mid-jump so I’m not facing the ground. As I’m falling through the air, I see Clint holding Nat in his arms as her screams fill my ears. I hit the ground and everything goes black.

<//>

“Hello, y/n. It’s good to see you again.” I sat up and一 what the hell is that smell? “Ah, yes. That would be burning flesh. Welcome to Hell, darling.”

“Uh...what? Who are you?”

“Yes, I suppose I should explain, hm? I am Hecate, Goddess of一”

“Yeah, I know what you’re the goddess of. How did I get here?”

“I thought you were smarter than this. You died, obviously.”

“And went to Hell? Damn.”

“Oh, relax. Hell isn’t what the mortals think it is. This is the Underworld. All of the dead reside here. The bad people get punished, the good people don’t. Simple as that. We don’t have a lot of time, so I need to explain. I am cursed; I cannot leave the Underworld. However, my human embodiment can, and that is where you come into play. You hold all my power, and I can see you’ve been practicing, but you’ve never lived up to your full potential.”

“Hey! Rude!”

“Don’t interrupt. I didn’t allow you to live up to your full potential, not until we met, anyway.”

“And I had to die in order for that to happen?”

“Yes. I’m giving you all of my power, but I can still stop you if I ever need to. I know you don’t want to risk hurting the people you love, especially the redhead, but you need to trust yourself. Trust your powers. Have a little faith. You are a goddess, remember. Don’t let people forget it. That purple thumb is nothing compared to you, even with his colorful rocks. Your family needs you now. You must help them.”

“That’s it? Why do they need help? How will I know what to do?”

“I will always be there to help you, Y/N. You can handle this. This is nothing. You are part of me, just as I am part of you. You are my daughter, after all. I should know your capabilities better than anyone.”

“Wait, daughter?!”

“Oh, did I forget to mention that part? Oh well, it doesn’t matter right now, anyway. You need to go.”

“Go where?”

“Home, darling.” 

The earth above us cracks open and I can hear faint sounds of fighting on the surface. I look at Hecate as she nods. Before I even realize I’m doing it, black mist surrounds my body and lifts me through the crack. I step out of the mist onto the ground and a staff appears in my right hand. I tap it once on the ground and my white suit is replaced by an all-black leather outfit that’s definitely made for a goddess. I smirk and make eye contact with the titan across the battlefield. His sickly creatures race toward me as they notice the new threat on the field. I summon an army of ghouls from the cracks in the earth. As the aliens and the undead clash, I teleport in front of Thanos.

“And who might you be, dear?” He acts confident, but I can sense his fear.

“I am Y/N, daughter of Hecate.” He tilts his head in a questioning manner. “Oh, did someone not study mythology? Hm, then let’s be blunt, shall we? I’m a goddess, ass-chin.” I throw my staff at his throat, but he catches it. He moves to swing his large sword at me, but I capture his arm in black mist. When he tries to move the other arm, I restrain that one, as well. “Well, that surely can’t be all you’ve got, hm? Pity, I thought it’d be more exciting than that.” If I were to look in a mirror at that moment, I would’ve noticed my ghostly pale skin, black eyes, and the raw power spreading through my veins like a black road-map.

“It’s not over yet, my dear child.” Before I can question the meaning of his words, an alien tosses him the gauntlet. It slides on his exposed hand, but I hold it open with dark magic. I look around and notice that the army of the undead is nowhere to be seen. My teammates are pinned down, even with the help of those who were snapped. There is a feeling in my gut and a voice in my head that tells me what I must do. I pull the gauntlet off his hand with black mist and slide my hand inside. I feel the power surging into my body. “What are you doing? That power will kill you!” Thanos sounds truly desperate.

“That’s cute. Truly, it is, but you can’t kill someone who’s already dead.” I close my hand and snap my fingers. His army fades to dust and he slumps to the ground before floating away with them. I drop the gauntlet to the ground and look around. Natasha runs toward me and throws her arms around my neck in a firm hug.

“Wha一what happened to you? How are you here? I thought you died!”

I wrap my arms around her waist and rest my chin on her shoulder before saying, “I did die. I am dead.”

She pulls away and looks at me from head to toe. “Well that explains why you’re so damn pale, but now I have so many more questions.”

“I am Hecate’s daughter, so I am technically a goddess, like her. I’m not sure if I was technically resurrected or not, but I can probably一”

She cut me off with a gentle yet passionate kiss. She pulls away and searches my eyes. “I’ve wanted to do that for a very long time,” she admits.

“Me too,” I breathe out.

“Yeah, I picked up on that. You’re not very discrete.” I laughed and a smirk spread across her face. “As sexy as this whole ‘powerful goddess’ thing is, am I going to get the old you back? You know, the one who blushes whenever I look at her? The one who’s, like, alive?”

I smile at her and glance down at her lips as a thick black mist appears behind me. I step backward into it as her face morphs into a look of confusion. She disappears from sight as a wall of black fills my vision, and a surge of power spreads throughout my body. I fall to my knees and the black cloud disappears. Natasha rushes over and kneels in front of me. “Are you okay? What the hell was that?”

“I’m not entirely sure, but I think I’m alive again.” I lift my head and meet her eyes.

“Your skin isn’t crazy pale anymore, and your eyes are their normal color again.”

“Sweet.”

“Cool.”

We both crack up and I lean my forehead against hers as our laughter fades.

Tony interrupts our moment of peace. “This is all good and dandy, but does someone wanna explain what the hell just happened?”

I raise my head and look at my teammates一 my family. “I kicked the purple thumb’s ass. That’s what happened.” I can feel a warm presence in my heart, and I know that my mother is with me.

“Yes, yes, I noticed. I also noticed a bunch of demons. Care to explain that one?”

“They weren’t demons...they were just...the souls...of dead people. I can summon the dead. You knew that.”

“Uh, I definitely didn’t know that.” I laugh and shake my head at the eccentric man. 

I stand up, pulling Natasha with me, and bring her into another embrace. “I’m really glad you’re okay, Natty,” I whisper in her ear before pressing a delicate kiss to her temple.

A/N: I literally had this completely finished and edited over a month ago and I hadn’t posted it yet soooooo... idk here it is

[k3rm1e]

hi! can you write wilbur with a very VERY chaotic reader? like completely different to what people portray his s/o to be in fanfics! the reader has a very schlatt and techno personality? and they don’t like showing pda unlike wil and he makes them really flustered.

thank you!!!!!!!!!!!!!

chaos is what killed the dinosaurs darling

hi! can you write wilbur with a very VERY chaotic reader? like completely different to what people portray his s/o to be in fanfics! the reader has a very schlatt and techno personality? and they don’t like showing pda unlike wil and he makes them really flustered.

thank you!!!!!!!!!!!!!

hi anon! sorry for taking a while to get back to you. i hope you like this either way (and yes the title is a heathers reference)

cw: cursing 

chaos is what killed the dinosaurs darling:

  after being kicked out of his office, wilbur had to stream in the house for a while. which, sure, it was fine there’s nothing inherently wrong with him streaming there - except for the fact that you were so bored, your brain was melting. you felt like the simuloid transforming to look like alex rogan.

  knowing he was in the room just a few feet away was killing you. when he was in his office he was too far away for you to bother him, so it was fine. but now you were dying. whatever. he wouldn’t care if you barged in. definitely.

  standing up from the couch, you barged into the room. you walked toward him as he questioned you. “uh, what are you doing in here? i’m, uh, live, y’know.” you walked behind his chair, ignoring him. you pulled him away from the desk by the back of his spinny chair, causing him to go across the room. behind you, you heard a small crash and a “shit!” yelled from your boyfriend. oops.

  “hello chat. my stream now.” chat was having a freak out of its own, some mad that you threw wil across the room and some laughing. sometime during you’re coming in and throwing wilbur, he took of his headphones. putting them on, you listened to the laughs of one philza minecraft.

  “hello philza minecraft. dadza. it is i, wilbur shit.” you stared deadpan at the camera.

  through the headphones you could hear phil laughing through a “what the fuck”. “hello, uh, hello wilbur shit. uh, you sure that’s your name?”

  “yes. it is i, wilbur shit. i write about train stations and hot bi- girls. hot girls.” wilbur walked over to you and was trying to rip the headphones of your head.

  “give me back my fucking headphones!” you could hear him laughing through the one ear that was uncovered. you reached up in an attempt to keep the headphones on.

  “don’t grab my headphones, fucking bitch!” you were pulling them back on with one hand and swatting his arm with the other.

  “your headphones? this is my stream, my chat.” he had finally gotten the headphones from you and you were now turned around trying to get them. he put them on and was standing to his full height for once. fucking bitch.

  “give me them back, now. this is my stream.” you were ready to kill this man. you come in here to have a good time and this is how you’re treated? you mentally sighed and ‘smh’.

  “uh, no. what are you gonna do anyways, short bitch? call me names?” he stared at his monitor, trying to make sure you didn’t mess up his set up and that he didn’t miss any donos.

  “yes, actually, i will call you names. bitchbur. bitchbur soot. bitchbur shit. yeah, i said it. you’re a bitch. and not even a pretty one.”

  wilbur made a fake shocked expression. “now, now, don’t speak like that. go do something useful instead of traumatizing the poor people trying to watch the stream. like fixing the chair you threw or something.”.

  “ok, ok, i know when i’m not wanted. i’ll clean for you.” you walked casually out the room until you got to the hallway, where you ran so fast your socks made you slip and slide into the other room, like in the breakfast club. to think of it, han solo also did the same, as did kylo. slido ren.

  you quickly grabbed the handheld vacuum from the front room. wilbur appreciates your chaos, at least you think he does. he better, or else you have a boyfriend to fake breakup with. youtube video tears and everything included.

  you arrived at the bedroom, and walked in with a “oh wilburrrrrr….”.

  he mumbed a “oh god fucking damnit…” before yelling “come in!”. you walked in and over to him, turning the vacuum on as it was up against hsi coat. “what the fuck are you doing???”

  “cleaning the dirt up, bitch.” you moved the vacuum up and down his arm.

  “for the love of god, please stop.” wilbur stood up and began a play fight with you. he ended the fight by knocking the now switched off vacuum out of your hand and pick you up by your waist.

  “put me the fuck down!!!” oh shit. pda pda pda. no no no nonononononono.

  “hmmmm… no.” wilbur bonked you on the top of you head with his lips. fuck this bitch and his cutesy pda bullshit. he threw you on the bed and left to go end his stream. once everything was turned off, he went over to you. “why do you have to cause so much stupid chaos on my stream? just why?”

  “because chaos is what killed the dinosaurs, darling.” you smiled at him.

  “y’know, it’s very worrying to me that you’re quoting jason dean.” he stared at you with a fake judgemental expression.

  “nah, it really isn't. now let’s go get slushies instead of going to therapy.” you jumped off the bed and dragged him out the room, lightly whispering “freeze your brain…”.

hello this has been finished i hope you enjoyed! please ignore all the movie references i made one and then i couldn’t stop

[aslitheryprinx]

Ok so here’s a mcyt G/t idea! a character (maybe Wilbur) either on purpose or unconsciously putting their tiny friend in their inventory (game mechanics wooo!) …small drabble mayhaps 👉👈

I love this so much!!!! :D

Thank you for this prompt, it was really fun to write!

_____

Hide 'n Sleep

_____

Wilbur tiptoed around the house, trying and failing to keep the smirk off his face. He'd woken up to hear his family and friends chattering in another room. He tended to sleep longer in the winter, although he didn't hibernate like some other giants did. When he heard Tommy complaining about the cold, he had a devious idea.

He snuck towards the living room, making as little noise as someone his size could. When he peeked around the corner, glancing into the room that was raised to about his chest level, he put a finger to his lips. Luckily only Phil and Niki were turned in his direction, and though their lips quirked in amusement, they remained silent.

He saw Techno's ear twitch and thought his brother might know he was there. But that was fine; his target was a different little brother.

Tommy was in the middle of a story. He hadn't caught the beginning, but it was something about Tubbo and a ridiculous number of flowers. Mid-laugh, Wilbur struck. He darted out his hands, scooping his little brother off his feet, and the laugh changed to a scream.

Tubbo and Ranboo both jumped, just now realizing he was there, but the others laughed.

"Hi, Toms," Wilbur said, amusement lacing his voice.

"Wil, don't you dare," Tommy started, but Wilbur was already opening his inventory. He dropped his little brother inside, giggling at Tommy's protests.

"You dickhead, you put me in a cold one!" Tommy whined. Wilbur felt him crawling over the walls to one of the slots that was stocked with blankets. He turned his focus to the rest of his family and his friends. There was a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"Who's next?" he purred. He noticed Niki had already slipped away; she'd probably gone to hide somewhere as he was putting Tommy away. Phil laughed once, then jumped off the platform the living room was on, spreading his wings and soaring away. He'd be a pain in the ass to catch.

Wilbur's gaze slipped to the two teenagers. Tubbo let out a noise that was a half scream half laugh, launching himself onto Ranboo.

"Go, go, go!" He shrieked, clinging onto the taller teen. The ender hybrid was giggling, but managed to teleport them both away. Wilbur snorted and his gaze fell on the last person in the room. Techno looked back at him with an unimpressed expression.

"Technoblade~" Wilbur sang teasingly. "Are you gonna be the second person caught?"

"I've been betrayed," Techno deadpanned, making no move to run. "I'll accept my terrible fate."

"Come on," Wilbur whined. "You're not gonna play along?"

"Don't judge me, I'm cold," Techno said. Wilbur huffed and picked up his other brother.

"You know, running warms you up," Wilbur pointed out. Techno shrugs.

"So do brothers with magical pocket dimensions," Techno said. Wilbur rolled his eyes and dropped Techno into the same slot as Tommy had claimed. He smiled at their light bickering as he started his search for the rest of the tinies.

If Niki didn't want to be found, he wouldn't find her. She would probably be impossible to catch until she was one of the last left, so Wilbur didn't bother trying to look for her. Normally he'd go after Tubbo first, but if he was teaming up with Ranboo, Wilbur would likely have to wait until the ender hybrid tired out and couldn't teleport. That left Phil.

If Phil was flying around, he was just as hard to catch as Ranboo's teleportation. But Wilbur had a feeling he'd hidden this time. While Phil was a decent hider, he would often laugh and give himself away. Wilbur walked slowly around the house, keeping his eyes and ears peeled for any clues.

He heard a small wheeze of laughter, and his head turned to one of the cabinets sized for him. He grinned and opened the door, finding Phil crouched. To his surprise, his dad instantly launched upwards. He'd been waiting!

Wilbur automatically reached out to grab Phil. He didn't expect to actually catch him, but Phil was apparently going easy on him. He relaxed in Wilbur's grip giving a quick "hi, mate," before Wil slipped him into his inventory.

He began circling the house, keeping his eyes out for movement. Of course Ranboo and Tubbo could be hiding, but he doubted they would if they were teleporting around. It was much more fun to do one or the other.

He passed by an open area, only half paying attention, when he heard a small vroop. He snapped to attention, looking for the source of the sound. There were a few purple particles floating on the desk to his left. He must have just walked by them.

He started scanning the area, knowing Ranboo could only go so far. There was another, very faint noise, and he pretended not to hear. His friends always forgot how good his hearing was. He made his way closer, careful not to even look at the place he'd heard the ender hybrid. Then, when he was in arms reach, he lunged.

His hands closed around Ranboo, who yelped. He teleported away instinctually, coming back a moment later since that counted as a Wilbur win.

"What? Where's Tubbo?" Wilbur asked, holding the lone teen in his cupped hands. Ranboo shrugged, but there was mischief in his eyes. Wilbur was about to put him in his inventory, when he heard a small yell, and something hit his head. He froze, shocked, as he felt Tubbo crawling around on his head.

"Run, Boo! This is a rescue mission!" Tubbo cried, and suddenly Ranboo was gone again, leaving little purple particles in Wilbur's hands. The giant reached up and plucked Tubbo out of his hair.

"You little shits!" He said fondly as Tubbo cackled. The goat hybrid flipped him off as he was dropped into an empty inventory slot. Wilbur felt him crawling around, probably looking for Tommy's slot.

He focused on catching Ranboo, who was still in view, but out of reach. He narrowed his eyes; the teen looked way too smug. Wilbur walked forward, and just as he thought, the second he got in arms reach Ranboo teleported just out of reach.

Ranboo led him on a chase through the whole house, never teleporting completely out of sight. Wilbur got very close to catching him before he teleported a couple of times, but it wasn't until Ranboo sat down on the bookshelf he'd teleported to, yawning, that Wilbur caught him.

Wilbur gently scooped him up, and Ranboo flopped over in his hands.

"Did you tire yourself out?" Wilbur asked with a grin. Ranboo nodded sleepily, and the giant snorted. He'd lasted longer than he normally did; that had been a couple dozen teleports. He slipped Ranboo into one of the blanket padded slots, and the ended hybrid instantly fell asleep.

That just left Niki. Right on time, he heard the tiny thunk of something being knocked over. Wilbur would never find Niki if not for her little hints. Like the rest of his friends and family, she went easy on him, always intending to let him catch her in the end.

He walked to the source of the noise, calling his friend's name in a sing-song voice. Niki giggled, but unlike with Phil, Wilbur couldn't pinpoint her location from the sound.

He started opening cabinets and drawers, looking behind items to see if he could spot her. Finally, a small motion drew him to a specific drawer and he opened it. He frowned as he looked inside, still not seeing Niki. Had it been a diversion?

"You don't see me, Wilbur?" His friend teased, and he jumped, suddenly seeing where Niki had been. She'd slipped behind a tape dispenser, and Wilbur had somehow completely missed seeing her.

"I do now," he laughed, holding out a hand. She nimbly hopped on, and he slipped her into his inventory.

Wilbur couldn't help but purr happily at the feeling of all of the people he cared about safely tucked away into his inventory slots. Nothing could hurt them there; he loved protecting his family. Niki, Tubbo and Ranboo weren't technically related to him, but they were as good as family to him.

The cold caught up to Wilbur, and he yawned.

Niki and Phil were in one slot, idly chatting. Tommy and Tubbo had curled up together, and were cuddled against Techno, who was probably pretending he hated it. Ranboo was fast asleep in his own slot, nestled in blankets.

And Wilbur slipped back into bed, eyes drooping. Content from the feeling of the people he loved so close, he drifted back to sleep.