#love that usually phil is just phil who is blonde and then on very rare occasions when he looks butch and/or emo/edgy enough he’s Her

[danandfuckingjonlmao]

phyuri 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩

[thesunicarusfellfor]

THE FUCKIN YANDERE GODS OMFG AWOOGA YOU DID SUCH A GOOD JOB THE FIC IS GOOD AS HELL!!!!

Is there any chance youd write a part 2 in the future? Its absolutely cool if you dont want to but WOW this concept? Solid gold (no pun intended)

I honestly love how people reacted to this story. It was so fun to write and became my most popular story to date. I'm such a sucker for the gods and mortals forbidden romance trope is just chefs kiss. Also, puns are always intended. Hand em over.

This chapter doesn't really involve the reader much, it's kinda more of a filler but I want this story to become a series, which means shorter chapters to separate the story. This is just simply a lore filler chapter.

TW: Mention of amnesia, memories being altered

Send me a message via inbox if you wanna be added to a general or series tag list. Make sure to turn off anon, please.

Mortal of Gold (Yandere!C!Techno x GN!Shy!Reader x Yandere!C!Philza) Part 2

It was quiet, for once, but there was a soft wind blowing through the curtain-covered doorway that prevented most light from seeping through. Two figures stood in the other corner of the room, staring into the bronze bowl filled with liquid, watching the destruction they caused spread across the village of L'Manberg with darkened eyes narrowed into glares.

"They deserved it..." Philza murmured, likely to Chat who was resting on his striped hat, giving the odd little squawk or chirp every so often. He gave a sigh and popped a piece of bread he tore off into his mouth, giving a small piece to his whining bird afterwards.

"I don't think the mortals have ever seen you lash out at them in person... Usually, you just send your crows to destroy their crops when they annoy you." Techno chuckled softly as he stole a piece of bread from Philza which caused him to give an annoyed scoff and bat his hand away, "But-"

"YOU SUMMONED 10 WITHERS?" A voice boomed through the palace, causing Phil and Techno to sigh and back away from the dish displaying their destruction proudly, "AND KIDNAPPED A MORTAL?"

The blond rubbed his face and Techno took off his glasses while they both walked out the door. Walking down the polished quartz stairs, the two gods quickly came into eye contact with the source of the voice, as well as a few other visitors.

"You're just mad because we tried to kill your high priest, XD, don't pretend like you follow the rules either." Technoblade sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose before putting his glasses back on, "And the mortal is none of your concern. We just did something about it, unlike you fawning from a distance over your mushroom boy."

Despite the cracked mask covering the god's face, everyone around him knew he was irked from Techno's statement. The three other gods behind him snickered into their hands until DreamXD snapped his head in their direction, the thin golden ring halos around his head gained a red glow to them.

The two brunets behind him immediately snapped their mouths shut, but the blond kept snickering away to himself, causing him to get smacked upside the head by one of XD's floating hands before he turned and stormed out the door.

"Ow! Bloody dickhead!" The blond groaned and rubbed the side of his head. The God of Mischief and Determination, Tommyinnit, scowled in the direction of the maniacal god before turning back to his father and Techno, "Ay Dad. Didn't take you for the destructive type! I hear you pulled a Techno and wiped out a village with Withers!"

"Yeah! The explosions shook the entire Upperlands!" Tubbo, the God of Bees and Chess, cheered a bit as his bee buzzed around him, getting specs of pollen in his fluffy hair and decorating his small horns.

Chuckling to himself, the God of Music and Insanity looked behind him at the sandy ground covered in a faint black fog, "XD was throwin' a tantrum. It was honestly the funniest thing to watch," Wilbur adjusted with the guitar on his back, "So where's the little mortal you kidnapped?"

"They're under a sleeping spell at the moment while the amnesia spell sets in," Phil gave each of his sons a brief hug as a greeting, "Then we'll have to alter their memory so they don't panic, but they'll have to stay up here permanently, their mind could be shattered if they do return to the mortal world."

"Shattered?" Tommy repeated, reeling back slightly as Wilbur summoned a leather book in his hand, opening it and scanning through the words, "That sounds like a pretty violent backlash..."

Phil and Techno avoided Wilbur's suspicious glare as subtly as possible, pretending not to see it, "Well... Remember, they're a mortal. Plus the strain of their home being destroyed, getting robbed, then getting kidnapped by gods and being brought to the Upperlands... Who wouldn't go absolutely mental? Then if they see the remains of their old village, it could undo all the magic that was placed upon them."

"Makes sense to me!" Tubbo chirped, his small goat ears wiggling as he held Chat in his hands, "Can we at least see them now and visit them when they wake up?"

Techno tensed up a bit but realized quickly that two of the three of the gods visiting them were too young to consider dating, and the third one was married to a human that he was trying to turn into a merling. "I... Suppose so. Just don't be too loud or the spell will break."

Tommy rolled his eyes dramatically, but the feathers behind his ears ruffled slightly to give away his excitement. Although, he was much better at hiding it than Chat, Tubbo's bee TC (Twitch Chat if you're wondering), and Tubbo, despite the fact that Chat actively visited (Y/n). Wilbur didn't seem to care much, but there was a hint of curiosity in his eyes. Or that was his insanity kicking in.

The avian nodded and began leading his biological and adopted sons through Techno's palace, Chat chirping away in his mind. 'Gods, that bird doesn't shut up...' Phil rolled his eyes up to the sky for a moment before smiling a bit to himself, 'Better than everything being dead silent I suppose...'

"In here. Now shut up. The spell won't work twice in a row." Techno hissed quietly before moving aside the crimson satin curtains to allow his old friend's sons into his rarely touched bedroom. The quartz room was kept dark via similarly coloured curtains blocking the majority of the light from coming into the room, while still allowing enough so they could see. A canopy bed stood proudly in the center of the room with golden posts and pure white chiffon silk curtains swaying lightly with the blowing winds.

Phil and Techno couldn't help but smile softly to themselves at the thought of seeing you again, even if you were asleep and, at the moment, void of memories and personality. Techno led the way inside and gently hooked his fingers around the fabric and moved it aside to let the younger gods see the mortal they had saved from the cruelties of the Earth.

The three gods carefully took their time studying you, trying to find what had their father and the anarchist totally entranced. Their eyes carefully took the time to study your soft (h/l) (h/c) hair, your beautiful (s/t) skin, and your silk robes that were ombre from red to white, accented with the very golden accessories that the high priest had tried to steal. (They used magic to put you in the new outfit. They're yanderes not creeps.)

"Oh... They truly are stunning. Are you sure they're a mortal?" Tubbo frowned for a moment, straightening up and pulling Chat away from your motionless figure so the crow would stop trying to peck at your jewellery.

"What do you mean?" Wilbur frowned at the younger god, his adopted brother. This had also caught the attention of the other gods

"I mean... Don't think they're a mortal, or at least they weren't born one..."

[covenofwives]

The Lion's Paw

Phil is on a walk when he comes across DreamXD in a rather down mood. Luckily Phil knows the perfect game to help turn the God's frown upside down.

I'm here with the comfort tickles. Happy belated National Tickle Day!

This is technically a sequel to my fic "Get Out". You do not have to read it to understand what's going on and that fic is not a tickle fic and more an angst one so skip it if you're not feeling up to it.

Please Enjoy

---

On the days when Phil knew he had free time, he liked to take long walks early in the morning and make his way back home early in the afternoon. The woods near his home were perfect to wander in, and it made for a good spot to meet with his flock of crows.

The birds would gather to him and they’d excitedly talk with him over his walk; giving him news they had heard, sharing stories or sometimes just babbling nonsense just to talk with Phil.

Philza was happy to see his flock. He loved hearing their ‘hellos’ and sweet words.

But, very rarely, they came with a warning.

“Dangerous!” “Great power!” “Watching us!” “It’s coming here!”

Phil was halfway home when the flock started cawing their warnings. It was such a switch from the light chatter to the sudden excitement. His wings twitched in alarm. “A great power?” He repeated.

It couldn’t be Her. The crows all rejoiced and screamed with joy when She was arriving.

Then who?

Phil came out of the tree line to a path by a quiet river. Few of the crows had flown off, but the ones left gave a last caw and then took off, leaving Phil alone.

Or…maybe not so alone.

Phil could feel the presence before he saw them. The air felt thicker, like a pressure building up but before it could burst Philza found a break in the tree line he had never seen before, and curiously stepped in.

The forest began to shift, trees twisted and took a different shape, not too different but enough for Phil to notice. The leaves were greener, the grass thicker, and Phil stumbled upon a small clearing where a familiar figure stood.

Impossibly tall with long, fluffy dirty blonde hair and four sets of arms under a long flowing cloak of green. They were invested in watching a small pond in front of them, but then when they noticed they weren’t alone, they turned to show their masked face. The mask was like the night sky, a dark blue with endless stars that seemed to be shifting.

“Oh! DreamXD!” Phil greeted him with a smile, and a relieved sigh. He had to teach his crows that next time when they knew of a ‘great power’ then it was DreamXD and he shouldn’t be feared.

“Philza.” XD greeted with an unusually tame voice. “Hello…”

Phil noticed the tone immediately. It was unlike how the God usually carried themselves. Usually XD stood tall and confident. They’d speak with a smile in their voice. This XD was calmer but Phil had a sense it wasn’t for a good reason.

“It’s been a while since you’ve made a visit.” Phil smiled, trying to hide his worry. With his experience raising four sons, he’d had time to know people spoke their feelings more when they weren’t directly asked. “Though, I guess that means it’s good news for me. Means I’ve not broken any rules.” He ended with a chuckle, slightly forced but not too much.

“Mm-hm…” XD hummed, his attention seemed torn between the pond in front of him and Philza. Just as Phil was debating between staying to make sure the God was okay and leaving him alone, XD snapped himself out of his daze.

“Sorry…” XD said, shaking their shoulders and turning more to face Phil. Their voice picked up though didn’t keep their usual cheer. “Yes, it has been a while. Apologies, Phil. I knew you were walking by, I must have forgotten to close the gateway.”

Phil looked around to the small glade the two of them stood in. He knew there was something different but hadn’t realised it was a gateway. The trees stood tall, circled around the glade and letting the morning sun just  shine through their leaves which had little flowers growing in them.

The pond interested Phil. It looked like the water was shimmering but there was something on the surface as well. Like showing a reflection that wasn’t there.

“I can leave if you want.” Phil offered.

“No. Please stay. It is nice to see you.”

His voice held a little bit of his old cheer. Phil nodded and smiled in return. “Is this glade yours?”

XD nodded, slowly tilting his head around. “Yes. I made it. Something I’m trying to work on.”

Phil looked around more curiously. Knowing he got here through a gateway already told him this place as far off. “Do you create places like this a lot?”

“Not really. Well…not a lot I guess. I dabble in making new plains from time to time. Only when I’ve got free time or I…need something else to focus on.”

Aha!

It was a slip but it was admitting something at least. Phil knew he had to approach this softly or XD would close up.

“That’s understandable.” Phil stepped forward slowly. He noticed that as soon as he did, the tall God twitched their head to the pond slightly and whatever reflection was on it had disappeared. “We all need something to work on to get through stuff.”

One of XD’s hands twitched and they drew it closer into their side. Phil was close to them now, but kept enough distance from the God.

“Is everything alright, XD?” Phil asked softly, his eyes filled with concern. “It might be none of my business, and you have every right to tell me off for it, but if you need to talk or get something off your chest I’m always open to talk.”

Even with the mask on XD was so expressive. Every twitch and movement conveyed their emotions so easily. Their jaw tightened, shoulders squared and their body fought between wanting to walk forward to Phil and holding their distant stance.

They seemed to compromise with something in the middle. They didn’t move any closer but their stance loosened, shoulders slumped. “I’m having a few…off days.” They admitted.

Phil nodded slowly, hopefully not too eagerly. It didn’t seem to be when XD continued.

“I made a…mistake. Recently. I’ve upset someone close to me and I’m not sure how to fix it. I’ve just been coming here. Working on…this.” He vaguely waved his hand around, gesturing to the area.

Phil frowned, nodding with some understanding. He had been alive for a long time, he knew the pain of fighting with friends. “Is there anyway to talk with this friend?”

XD’s hand clutched onto his wrist. “He… He doesn’t want to speak to me right now…”

Phil gave a sympathetic smile. He quickly looked around, noticing a couple of large rocks set together. He gestured over to them. “Can we sit down?”

XD nodded quickly, almost like a child and Phil had to hold back his chuckle. He made his way over, sitting on one of the rocks. He expected XD to join beside him, but the God instead lowered and and sat on the grass just in front of the rock.  Phil didn’t question it, instead he just started talking.

“Fighting with friends is a hard thing to go through. I don’t know what you’ve done to upset him, so I can only give you bare minimum advice. But the only thing you can really do now is give him space to settle himself and work things out. He’ll talk to you when he feels it’s right.”

It wasn’t the answer DreamXD wanted, but the only clear indication of dislike they made was a small huff. “W-What if he never speaks to me again?”

Phil felt a pang of sympathy. “Then it’s his choice, and it might hurt, but you have to respect it.”

XD’s shoulder’s hunched and a small whimper escaped them. Phil wasn’t sure how comfortable XD was with affection, but the God slowly leaned over, their head coming to rest at Phil’s leg and Phil could feel them melt. Phil carefully raised his hand and ran his fingers through XD’s fluffy blonde hair.

“It’s hard.” Phil spoke softly. “Time heals all wounds. And if not, it lessens their sting.”

“Time is different for beings like us though…” XD mumbled.

Phil gave a soft smile, petting through XD’s hair. His hand wandered down, giving a soothing rub down XD’s neck and along the back of the God’s shoulders. A little squeak came from XD though and made him stop, pulling back his hand.

“XD?” Phil asked, noting it took a while for XD to answer again.

“Y-Yeah?”

Phil’s smile slowly turned to a grin, and he put his hand back down onto XD’s neck. He felt the God tense up again, their shoulder shaking as the squeak sound happened again. “Your neck wouldn’t happen to be ticklish, would it?”

XD slowly shook their head. “N-N-Nohoho…”

Phil turned his fingers till the end of his nails touched onto XD’s skin, slowly dragging up the God’s neck till it came under his ear. The squeak came again, but burst into little bubbles of giggles. XD hunched his shoulders up by his neck but he never moved out of Phil’s reach.

“We never got to tickle your neck when you visited us last.” Phil thought out loud.

“Nohohoho…!” XD giggled, curling more up into himself. Phil honestly couldn’t tell if it was in telling him to stop, or if it was confirming his statement. They never moved away and when Phil slowed down his tickling, they leaned more into the touch.

Phil’s wings fluffed up. “You know, XD. When my boys were feeling down, I’d cheer them up with a game.”

XD seemed to perk up at that. He turned his head slightly, peeking up to Phil. “A game?”

Phil smile turned soft. “Yes. A tickle game.”

The avian could see the shiver run up XD’s spine and spill out of his lips in a giggle. “A t-tihickle gahame?”

“Do you want to try it?” Phil asked hopefully.

“Wh-What’s the gahame?”

“I won’t tell you until you agree.” Phil smiled at the whine that came from the God. “Do you agree?”

XD only hesitated for a moment before he nodded. “Y-Yes…”

XD repositioned himself under Phil’s instructions to sit more in front of the blonde. He couldn’t help himself from curling up, giggling every few seconds. Phil wanted to coo how cute it was, but he didn’t want to fluster him too much.

“You’ll need to take off your robe, is that okay?” Phil asked softly and was surprised when the robe just faded into nothing. Of course XD was a God, they could just make that happen, but it still caught Phil off guard whenever he saw powers like that. He shook of the shock quick and continued on. “You’ll need to lean forward a bit.”

XD followed the instructions carefully, slightly leaning forward to where Phil had a good view of their back. The top XD wore had the back cut away, probably to make it easier movement for his four set of arms. Phil could see the ridges of XD’s spine against the bare skin and reached forward, just touching gently. The skin was so soft and warm, and XD jumped from the contact, making Phil chuckle.

“The game is,” Phil explained, “I’m going to write out a small phrase on your back. I’ll go slow, with one letter at a time. If you think you know the word I’m writing, you can guess it. But if you guess wrong, I have to start writing the word all over again.”

XD shivered throughout the explanation. Probably not helped that Phil was moving his hand ever so slightly to rub up and down the God’s back. He was gentle feeling out the shape of his spine, the muscles of his shoulder blades, but his touch was firm enough that it didn’t tickle. Just kept XD on edge.

“A-And then I h-hahave to guess the phrase?” XD asked.

Phil nodded. “Yes. When you think you know the phrase you can guess it. But if you get the phrase wrong, then the punishment will be a little more severe.”

Before XD could ask how severe, Phil fluffed up his black wings and brought them forward to curl around and press into XD’s side. The God giggled and laughed as the wings settled, rubbing and softly tickling along the God’s sides, back and armpits. Even as the wings stopped he was still giggling through his words.

“Ph-Phihihihil…! T-hahahat’s…”

“If you get the phrase wrong, all these feathers will start brushing up against you.” Phil’s smile turned to a grin. “You remember how tickly my wings were, don’t you?”

“Naha! N-Nohoho! Y-Yohohou cahahan’t!”

“I don’t want to. But if you guess wrong, well I can’t stop my wings from giving out punishments now can I?”

Phil just slightly moved the tip of his wing under XD’s armpit and was surprised by the squeal from the God before they settled back into giggling. It took Phil a moment before the memory kicked in. “Oh! Your armpits are your weak spot, aren’t they!”

“Phihihil!” XD squawked like the fact was some terrible embarrassment.

“Oh you really don’t want to get it wrong then.” Phil couldn’t hold back his own giggling. “That’s going to tickle sooooo much, isn’t it?”

XD made a spew of giggle laced excuses but when Phil had asked if they were ready, they quietened down and nodded.

Phil placed his hand over XD’s back. The God was tall, so their back was long, lots of space to write on. “I’ll go easy on you and write the letters slowly.”

Phil pressed his pointer finger to the top of XD’s back, just under the God’s neck. XD started giggling even though Phil hadn’t moved yet. When he did start, XD was giggling so much Phil was sure there was no way he was going to guess the letter, let alone the word. But, Phil carried on.

It was an easy letter for the first one. A straight line down and then a line across right at the very top. Phil paused a moment before moving onto the next letter, tracing a straight line slowly down XD’s spine, having to correct himself as XD’s giggling and wriggling tried to dislodge his finger.

“T..T-T… I….” XD giggled through his words, working out the letters.

Phil was impressed. “I thought you were laughing to much to pay attention. Let’s see if you can figure out the rest.”

Phil traced a long curve from XD’s shoulder blade to above his hips. The next letter was a straight line down. He made the dragging of it a little slower, using his nail and turning XD’s giggles up into a laugh, barked out of him in surprise.

“Ph-Phihihihilllllll…” The tall God tittered.

“You better pay attention, XD.”

Phil had finished tracing his letter and to give XD credit, he did pick it up between the laughter.

“K! T-Tickle! Th-The wohord ihihis tihihihckle!”

“Oh, that’s a shame.” Phil made an over exaggerated sigh.  “You were so close. Now I’ll need to start over again.”

“N-NO! Nohoho! Th-ahahat’s nohohot fahaihir!”

Phil started over by writing the ‘T’ again. Of course it wouldn’t just be that simple. He went slower, and wriggled his finger against the smooth skin and kneading his finger in whenever XD’s laughter would kick up. By the third letter, Phil had a good map out of XD’s back and his most sensitive spots. He was giggly on his lower back, and up at his shoulder blades. But when Phil went close to to XD’s spine the God’s giggling would bubble up into laughter and he could barely holding himself still.

Phil had just finished the ‘L’, seeing XD try to hold themselves back from guessing again. When the blonde avian made a slow drag down the God’s back diagonally, he could feel them perk up.

“T-Tihickly!” XD blurted out, and the excitement couldn’t stop their words. “T-Tickly God!”

“Ohoho…” Phil couldn’t hold back his giggles to keep up his disappointed tone. “Oh no XD, thahat’s the wrong guess.”

Even with the mask on, Phil could see XD face dropped. “Naha! Nohohoho! Nohoho!”

“You know what that means~” Phil cooed. His feathers ruffling up in excitement. He could have easily said that he was enjoying this a lot more than XD.

XD squealed, giving a very visible jump. “N-Nahaha! D-Dohohon’t! Give-Gihihive mehe ahanother ch-chahahahance!”

Phil hummed in consideration, his feathers stilled but fingers drummed over the taller ones back. “I don’t know… That doesn’t seem so fair.”

“Ihit’s my fihirst time! P-Pleheahase….”

Phil couldn’t see XD’s face, but he knew the sound of puppy dog eyes pleading far too well. He felt a pang of sympathy which in hindsight was a funny thing considering XD could have snapped his fingers and smite Phil down.

“Alright. I’ll let you have two more guesses.” Phil agreed. “But if you get it wrong, then these will start moving.” His wings ruffled ever so slightly making XD squeal. “Two guesses. But you get no more letters.”

“Wh-AHAT?! Th-That’s-”

“No more whining.” Phil spoke ‘firmly’, but he was smiling widely. “Two chances and that’s it.”

XD started in a whine, ending it quickly when he realised. One set of his arms were loosely wrapped around his legs, his fingers nervously drumming along his calf. When Phil twitched his wings he jumped. “O-Okahahay! Okahahay! U-Uhummm…”

Phil traced the word ‘tickly’ over and over on XD’s back. While he excused it was to give the God motivation, it was also to watch XD wriggle and hear his giggling.

“H-How mahany wohordss…?” XD asked carefully.

“Hmm. I guess that’s fair. It’s two words, so you know the first.”

XD made a humming giggling noise, his back shivering when Phil’s fingers moved close to his spine. “T-Tihickly… Eh-Ehehex D?”

“Nope!” Phil answered with more glee than he probably should have. “Last chance~”

“Th-Thahahat’sss….” XD broke down into giggles. Phil stilled his hand to let XD think but it didn’t stop their giggling. “T-Tihihicklehey… T-Tihickly g-gahame?”

“Oh noooo…” Phil exaggerated his words, grinning wide when XD giggled and curled in on himself. “XDeeeee~ That’s the wrong one~”

“N-Nohoho…”

“You know what that meanssss~”

“Nonononono!”

XD fumbling words ended in breaking out into a barking laugh as Phil started ruffling and rubbing his wings against the God’s sides. He expected XD to struggle and try to run. He did not expect XD to curl up, and melt to the ground.

“Ph-Phihihihihil!” XD brought his arms in as close as he could, but it didn’t stop the feathers already in his armpits, sawing against his skin and the ones tickling up against his sides. “PHIHIHIHIHIHIHIL!”

“Maybe someone shouldn’t be so impatient.” Phil cooed. He came down to kneel on the ground, following XD with his wings and skittering his fingers along their back. “You should learn to wait.”

“Ihihihi’m sohohohohorry! Phihihihihihil! Pleheheheheahahahahase!”

Phil moved his wings to cluster around XD’s armpits. Of course the God had two sets of arms so Phil focused his wings onto the upper set as he slipped his hands into XD’s lower set. He wasn’t so mean however, only giving the God a light tickling, but they still kicked up and squealed when those blunt nails were running along their sensitive skin.

Eventually Phil took pity on them. He didn’t know how much stamina a God had, but he slowed down to a light tickling till XD was giggly. He pulled back his wings, folding them against his back as his hands stopped and moved to pat along their back. The giggles died down into a soft purr, and soon XD was curled up in the grass with his head leaning by Phil’s leg.

“Feeling better?” Phil asked. XD only gave a slow nod. “Good.” The avian was genuinely glad. A calm and relaxed XD was much better to have than a sad one.

“Thank you, Phil.” XD sighed when the giggles had left him. “I do feel…better for the moment.”

Phil’s smile turned sympathetic. “It will get better as time goes on. Whether it goes the way you want or not, it will get better.”

XD gave another slow nod into the grass before he pushed himself up. He stretched out his back, similar to how a cat stretched when it just woke up, and then fully picked himself up. Phil followed soon after.

“If you ever need cheering up again, you can always find me.” Phil half offered, chuckling as XD gave a huff.

“I can’t believe your boys are still ticklish after all you put them through.”

“Put them through?! They love my cheer up tickles!” Phil’s feathers fluffed up. “They ask for them all the time!”

The two left the enchanted forest. Phil could feel the return back to the woods by his home. The air felt chillier, and the trees not so green.

XD followed Phil a bit on his walk, but the talk was on more mundane things. When they got close to Phil’s home, XD made his excuse to leave, departing with a quick ‘pop’ and he was gone.

Phil hoped XD could sort it all out with his friend. Living as long as he did, Phil knew the pain of losing friends, and how it hurt more when the friendship ended from a fall out rather than a natural progression. However it turned out, Phil wished XD the best.

And he was always ready on call to give the God some cheer up tickles again.

[god1ngs]

━‎ end of the world

synopsis; a forbidden love told for generations

contains; human reader, major character death, swearing, mentions of war, spoilers

god c!technoblade / reader, 3.4k wc

note; the title doesn't make much sense but whatever lol ,, this is for @mayasimagines 's 600 event! congratulations and i hope you like this :)

   throughout the fall of countries, the crumbling of empires, there stood a man. he gazed upon the vast land, the grass stained red. buildings had crashed down, debris staining the area around them. they layed in heaps of piles, taller than most. the fallen down buildings had been a sign of the empire's loss.

   there was no one alive to commemorate the loss however.

   screaming rung inside of his head, shouting and yelling, with some other tones mixed in. displeased and ecstatic and mocking tones blended together, sounds of chaos lingering in the mind of the man. he only sighed, walking away from the destroyed country.

   he's seen this happen too many times before, the repetitive cycle of watching a country build itself only to come crashing down years later. they never lasted long. always the one for chaos, he sometimes participated in the destruction of the countries, though most times he didn't need to.

   humans were savage, brutal creatures who only cared about themselves. by studying their nature, the way they go about certain scenarios, he had figured out that much. selfish, twisted beings who would betray each other in a heartbeat. all it took was more wealth or a promise of better gear.

   how easily swayed they were. technoblade sneered, his red cape dragging beneath him as he stalked the hallways. pillars of quartz, chipped at the edges from years of standing, lined the hallway. they reached the ceiling, some even going higher. the magnificent red carpet he stalked down had ended at a throne.

   a throne made of gold, the shiniest material he could get his servants to find. emeralds and diamonds and rubies lined the top of it, the same jewels lining the gold of his crown. at last, he sat down, the voices calming down at the familiar seating area. they always got loud whenever there was destruction.

   technoblade, the blood god. also known as the god of war and chaos to many, he wasn't very popular among the peaceful people. people often worshipped him for protection, to which he rarely granted. protection from him, a god of war, was seldom. often he didn't care about the hunans enough to waste his protection on them.

   yet, one mortal, had caught his eye. they were nothing too special, middle class and usually someone technoblade wouldn't even spare a glance at. they were different though. they outshined any ray of sun, their smile proving to be the brighter of the two. he found them, despite all odds, very interesting.

   later, after wine and more sparring, the man had caught wind of philza coming over. philza, the angel of death, had been one of technoblade's good allies, even so far as to consider the blond a friend. he brought saints to their knees in their final moments, allowing them either an eternity in hell or a peaceful life above.

   he wanted to meet them, and technoblade always gets what he wants.

   even before technoblade had become the god he is now, forever cursed to watch humanity rip itself apart, he knew philza. the two fought wars together, never straying from their path of loyalty. the blond perched himself on the windowsill, his striking white wings folding on his back, as he smiled at the other. "hello technoblade." he greeted, ever the polite man.

   technoblade only scoffed, shaking his head with an amused grin. "please, phil," he drawled, looking from his red wine to the angel of death. "no need for the formalities. just call me techno." the blond threw his head back with a laugh, wide smile painting his features as the other chuckled. "of course, mate."

   silence washed over the pair for a moment, a comforting silence that allowed them to bask in the moment od seeing each other. they didn't get to visit often, one thing they mutually hated about being in the sky palace, usually swamped with other duties. philza with guiding people to the afterlife, and technoblade with causing conflict.

   "i actually wanted to talk about somethin' with ya, mate." phil broke the silence, hopping off of the marble windowsill to come lean against one of the pillars. the pink haired man, ever so interested, hummed questionably. "and what did you want to speak to me about? come on, spit it out." the man said, looking down at philza.

   he sighed, glancing up at technoblade. "you've been acting off, mate. less wars are starting, and that's weird for you. i know you also started protecting that one mortal. fuck, what was their name?" he murmured, brows furrowed. technoblade sighed in annoyance, not wanting to be pestered with questions.

   "[name]." he answered phil quietly, not bothering to look back at the blond man. the clouds danced with each other in the sky, entertwining and morphing with each other freely. sometimes he wishes he could be as free as the clouds. "you know," phil said, a mischievous glint shining in his eyes. the blood god could only dread what he was going to say. "rumor has it that gods only protect mortals they're interested in."

   the teasing, despite only being light hearted, had a quizzical undertone. while technoblade had been acting strange, protecting somebody was something phil had never expected. either something was special about that mortal and their family, or someone had begun fantasizing. he could only hope it wasn't the latter.

   with more conversation, technoblade denying any feelings blooming for a human, phil left to go do his job. he was alone with his thoughts, the voices making him tug at his own hair to keep them quiet. they craved the mortal, despite how much he willed himself to stay in his throne room, the man had to go see them.

   it was a normal day for you. nothing was different, much less weird. it was only normal, a basket of bread in your hands as you walked home. you hummed as you stepped on the path, enjoying the peaceful walk back to your house. you were content with your life, having a few people and more deaths than you could count.

   and see them he would.

   you partially blamed philza, the angel of death, for the passing of your loved ones, but you also knew he wasn't the one to kill them. he simply took them to the afterlife, guiding them to where they would spend the rest of their days. the deaths in your family had piled up, mostly from war and some of falling ill.

   you spent your days worshipping gods now. you were always the lonely type, choosing to stay by yourself rather than interact with others. you never minded the comforting embrace of being alone, the silence enveloping you at every given moment. it provided you with a sense of comfort you couldn't get anywhere else.

   while you did worship other gods, you mostly worshipped technoblade. he was the primary god, you giving up all your offerings to him ─ ranging from bread to trinkets to gold galore. the tales of the blood god, always grand stories with daring adventures that had you on the edge of your seat, had always intrigued you.

   your favorite, the one you read the most to the slim amount of people you did contact, was the tale of the butcher army. when he was human, a detail that many didn't know whether to believe or not, he blew up many countries. it hinted at the start of him being the god of war many years later. for punishment, the butcher army hunted him down.

   they lied to the man, once they had captured him, in which they had prepared for his execution. some say he died that day, only to be revived due to the gods holy whim; others say he had never died, and broke out of the iron bars to kill the men who had hunted him down. learning about the magnificent god, a god you admired, had faced an army of four and won, allowed you to admire him even further.

   once you got home, setting down your basket of bread, you had sighed. you always liked coming home, your safe space filling you with a joy like no other. the everlasting comfort of your home, a familiar place you longed to be at constantly, helped you feel safe. the comforting feeling of being home at last filled you at peace.

   until it wasn't so peaceful anymore.

   from your kitchen came a clanging noise. there were a few grunts followed afterwards, your eyes wide. fear flooded your system, nervousness coursing through your veins. you stayed silent, hoping you'd either been dreaming or had been imagining sounds. however, once a voice spoke, you knew that was not the case.

   from your kitchen came, with his red cape dragging behind him, technoblade. you stammered, confusion replacing your previous nervousness. your grip came loose on the item you were holding, not being able to process what you were seeing. "well this is awkward." the god stated, putting your kitchen utensils he had just knocked down back on your counter.

   if anything, this was awkward. very awkward. who expected a god to come through their kitchen window? "uh, do you," you stuttered, voice measily yet you still tried to fight it out. "do you mind telling me why you're here?" it was more than odd to see a god in your kitchen, the sight one hard to believe for even yourself.

   technoblade had sighed, draping himself over your couch cushions as if he lived there. his arms, unlike your bare ones, spread across the back of your couch, the sight making you nearly sigh. "well, mortal, i had taken intrest in you." he answered bluntly, your mind still reeling from the fact that he was even here, but taking interest in you? no, this had to be some kind of joke.

   the visible confusion highlighting your features made the god chuckle. it was amusing, seeing the looks on mortals' faces whenever something odd or unexplainable happened. "what's so confusing? i took interest in you, and so i came down here to see you." the blood god explained, shrugging his shoulders. the confusion you felt only worsened.

   why was the question. why was a god in your house? why had he taken interest in you? you shook your head, suddenly feeling lightheaded. "sorry, i need to sit down." you muttered, trying to regain your footing. you sat down, going slowly as to not pass out in front of him. "so," you spoke up as soon as you had calmed down. "why have you taken interest in me?"

   a cloud of silence loomed over the two of you, technoblade falling into his thoughts. why had he taken interest in you? there was no particular shining traits in you, even if he studied you as if you had carved out the world with your own hands; he watched you as if you had brung down a fantastic reign upon everybody.

   "who knows?" he wondered aloud, a hum of amusement following his words. technoblade didn't know the reason for it, and despite itching with curiosity, he didn't bother trying to find out. he only let it be, coming to terms with the fact that you, a mortal, had piqued his interest. you kept him entertained, and that's all that mattered.

   after the two of you talking more, you still trying to get over the shock that the blood god was in your home, you had to say that he was fairly a nice guy. maybe he was kinder than all of the other ones, however you've never crossed paths with a god either, so you couldn't tell. when technoblade had stood up, braided hair falling against your couch, you knew it was time for him to go.

   he turned to look down on you, his towering figure highly intimidating. there was a reason he was feared across nations. he stared at you for a second, maybe deciding on what to say, though you couldn't tell with his blank expression. the man only sighed, wishing you a good day, and then turned to leave.

   "you've got me interested, technoblade."

   you only spoke to the god more after the first encounter. seconds turned into minutes and then minutes turned to hours. he was an interesting guy, choosing which emotion to show and when to show it. perhaps it came with being a god. as he came by more, each visit surprising you, you only talked to him more.

   "as you've got me, [name]."

   soon he started telling you stories. the butcher army, the l'manberg war, how he met philza. he told you great things of philza, the angel of death, so much so you nearly stopped disliking philza. you were always interested in his stories though, no matter how long or how action packed. each further lured you in to his grasp.

   technoblade, however, had stopped visiting so often. with more conflict arising everyday, he didn't have as much time to visit you anymore ─ philza was starting to catch on as well. how he wasn't home as often or how he lied to philza each time he asked him where he was. he was getting suspicious, and wanted answers quickly.

   philza confronted technoblade on this issue a while later. his wings puffed up confidently, he was so sure something was going on with his eldest friends, the edges torn at the seams. "technoblade." he addressed politely, standing in front of his throne once again, as he did not so long ago. he would get answers out of him.

   technoblade only sighed, his cheek pressed against his closed fists as he stared at philza. "yes, philza?" he asked, voice heavy with exhaustion. the recent wars, as much as he loved the excitement and panic that came with it, have been too tiring for him. he also couldn't visit you that morning, only pissing him off more.

   "have you been seeing the mortal you told me you had interest in?"

   silence crashed over the room, violent in its malicious intent. phil's questioned nipped at the blood god, desperately pleading for an answer. philza sighed, one of disappointment and perhaps even anger. the silence was enough of an answer. "mate, are you kidding me?"

   technoblade merely sighed, eyes narrowing at the blond. "you have no say on who i take interest in, phil. that is none of your concern." he dismissed the blond, turning back to look at the window. philza had no say in what technoblade done with his life, no matter how long the two have been friends.

   "none of my concern? mate, they're a mortal and you're a god! hell, the blood god! for fucks sake, mate, you can't be seeing mortals!" philza snapped, brows furrowed and cheeks red from anger. the trouble a god could get in from seeing a mortal was irredeemable.

   if technoblade got caught with the mortal, he would lose not only his titles, but his life. he would be executed.

   technoblade merely scoffed however, rolling his eyes. "as if i'll get caught, philza. those laws are stupid anyways. what, are you going to tell on me?" he arched his brows at the angel of death, sneering at him. how dare he barge into his temple and then go off at him; a beloved friend of his.

   however, the mortal was too intresting to not keep seeing. he may of even caught feelings. how laughable ─ the blood god, feared across empires, falling for a mere mortal. philza only sighed, rubbing his temples. he weighed his options: technoblade could continue seeing the mortal, get caught, and then both of them get in trouble.

   or philza could tell the council. tell them of his affairs, tell them why he hasn't been here as often. once more, a vicious silence swept over them. only for a moment, for philza had declared:

   "if you don't stop seeing this mortal, i'll have no choice but to stop it. don't make me do it, mate."

   his evening visit was late that night. you had already prepared dinner, setting it up for when he was to arrive. from what he's told you, he hasn't had human food in a long time. he told you that gods didn't need to eat nor sleep. you had decided to make him food for when he comes, wanting him to have food even if he doesn't need it.

   the gust of wind from deceiving angel wings swept across his face. messy hair cascaded over his face, and for once, the blood god had found a problem he didn't know he could solve.

   ten minutes. twenty minutes. thirty minutes. you sighed at the mocking tick of the clock, each passing second being another sign that he wasn't going to come. perhaps he had better things to do. frowning, you began to gather the food up, knowing you wouldn't eat it all, before the familiar two knocks came at your door.

   rushing over, once you had opened it, you were surprised to see something different than you were used to.

   technoblade was there, but he looked different. more angry, perhaps even upset.

   worried, you frowned at the god. "are you okay?" you asked, hoping the man was alright. the god only nodded, staring at the ground. he came back to you after a moment of silence, sighing. "yes, just got caught up in some things. nothing for you to be concerned of." he said, brushing you off before you could even speak.

   when technoblade had gone back to his temple, rubbing his temples with a sigh, something unexpected had greeted him. there was philza, perched on the window with a firm look of coldness. "visiting the mortal again, were you, mate?" he asked once he had came into view. technoblade had half a mind to tell him to fuck off.

   that night provided a great distraction from what would come the following days.

   no words were spoken from technoblade afterwards. the betrayal of another friend, a promise to do something about his meetings, had wounded him. he didn't want to lose philza, but also had begun to realise something ─ he had caught feelings for the mortal.

   for you, who had been the sunshine on his darkest days. call it a cliche, but technoblade truly didn't know happiness if you weren't by his side. having watched countless deaths and falls of kingdoms over the many, many years of being alive, the man had never found as great of a comfort than by your side. you were the sun to his moon, a forever shining force to his immortal darkness.

   though the moon and sun are destined to never touch.

   that night, philza had technoblade bring him to your house under promise of telling the council. they had shown up to your house late at night, when the world was asleep. it had been abrupt, the two males coming into your home. you were shaking, scared as to what this meant. the angel of death and the blood god inside your home could mean nothing good.

   and you were right. that night, that forsaken night, technoblade had been cursed in front of your eyes. the wide eyed look on his face, the shock of what a former friend could do. you tried to reach out for him, but were stopped by philza. he permitted you to stay still, or else your blood would be on your walls.

   "technoblade, the blood god and the god of war, i hereby sentence you to an eternity of reincarnation. as long as you are alive, your lover, [name] [last name], will be killed and reincarnated. only ever letting you get close enough to hardly touch them."

   your words were caught in your throat, the cruel punishment knocking the wind out of you. philza's eyes shone, bright in an unholy way, rising up with his wings behind him. technoblade had felt the burning sensation of a marking, a forever sign of the curse, on the side of his neck. a flower had been burnt into the side of his neck, your favorite flower.

   "i'm sorry, technoblade." were the last words you heard before a sword made of light had stabbed through your stomach.

   the blood god had frantically scooped up your body in his arms, panicking for the first time since you've seen him. he tried to get you to say anything, although the words were too hard to say, no matter how hard you tried to get them out. he reassured you would be okay, despite knowing the inevitable would happen.

   "you should've listened to him ... heh, you're a dumbass, you know that?"

   you took your last breath seconds later.

[shushiyuii]

maybe some soft sbi naga hurt/comfort nomfs?

g!naga phil and t!techno, tommy and wilbur (human)

YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS

Warnings: Soft vore, mentions of fatal vore and death.

Words: 2K+

Phil was known to be a guardian of sorts, he protected those under his territory, which included the human villages that were built there. He never hated these villages, he actually worked with a majority of them and got along fairly well with the village people.

It’s where he actually met his beloved wife, Kristin. She lived in the village, but the thing is she was mainly an adventurer. And Phil fell in love with her, he was head over heels for her. He allowed Kristin to venture out, with the promise that she’d come home to see him now and again.

He was content with how things were going but to be, but that all changed one day.

One day, Kristin came back, screaming for help. His pointed ears twitched, and he slithered as quickly as he could to the voice. When he arrived, he saw Kristin protecting three human boys. And they were surrounded by people he recognised to be intruders.

Before they could strike, Phil protectively shielded them with his tail. And hissed at the intruders, they seemed to crumble at the sight of Phil, screaming and running. Running as far away as they could from the monster.

Phil knelt down to look closely and the humans. There Kristin was panting from having to hold off so many, behind her were three boys holding onto her. One of them had brown hair and eyes, who was holding hands with the smallest of the three.

He had short blonde hair and bright blue eyes, which reminded Phil of himself, then there was the third. Who had brownish-pink hair and bright blue eyes.

He looked to Kristin, “You okay, Love? That seemed difficult” he asked with concern on his features. “I’m fine honey, thank you. I- Uhm actually have some people I want you to meet!”.

She picked up the smallest of the three and walked closer to Phil and directed the other two to follow her. She was now right in front of Phil. “Phil, this is Tommy”, she held up the smallest slightly, then she pointed to the brunette “Wilbur”, then the last. “Techno”.

Phil hummed happily, “Hello there”. None of them replied, they almost seemed scared and neither of the two could blame them in the slightest. “So, Hon. What are you doing with these boys?”.

“They’re runaways from a village, I couldn’t help but feel sorry for the boys as they tried to steal from me”. She laughed as Phil furrowed an eyebrow in curiosity.

Her expression saddened though, “I actually tried to find them a place in some of the nearby villages but..”. She looked away slightly, “To put it simply, there’s not really anybody who has room or money to take in three extra kids.”.

She then looked to Phil with begging eyes, “So I was wondering…”.

Phil smiled and brought his fingertip to his darling’s face, who smiled herself. “Of course, we’ve been meaning of having kids for a while now. Haven’t we?”.

And that’s how he met his three boys, he never regretted his decision of taking in these kids. Kristin helped in raising them as Phil was sometimes way too big to care for them, but they grew up, the eldest twins were now in their teens and the youngest a growing boy.

Their mother now continued her adventures, shorter than they used to be though as she usually now brought back food and souvenirs for them.

Tommy had grown up to be rather loud and adventurous, he reminded him of Kristin at times. He was his mother’s boy. Techno grew up to be the more protective of the three, often training with his mom and Phil in combat so he knew how to protect all of them, not only that but he grew up to love farming, he was much more reserved than his twin.

Now for his twin, Wilbur. He grew up to be the creative one of the three, loving music and using words more than his sibling. He also loved to spend time with his family and such.

And now for as long as he’s had the boys, they were growing up fast. And he was worried that soon enough they may not need him anymore or they could get hurt. But he knew one thing and that was he’d protect them to the very end.

There was one thing he hadn’t brought up though as he raised the boys. He never brought it up in case of frightening them. He had his worries like, “the big scary beast eats his kids” kind of worries. He knew the kids trusted him, but he had no idea how they’d react to that sort of thing.

As of Today though, they were heading out for the day. So, they could spend time outside of their cave. Tommy was beyond excited, jumping up and down on his father’s shoulder as he waited for his siblings.

They soon came down, Wilbur with his guitar smiling as he saw his brother happily jumping. Techno just didn’t seem to care, but they all knew he was excited as well as he carried his sword.

Phil then took the three of them to an opening in the trees. He allowed the boys to venture as he coiled up and sunbathed. He could hear Techno swinging his sword against the tree, Wilbur strumming his guitar and his son trying to climb on him as a jungle gym, he didn’t mind.

After a while, the boys had gathered around each other to decide what game they were going to play with their sibling. He kept an eye on them for a while but saw them staying close and inevitably closed his eyes, letting his guard down as he trusted them to stay close.

But that was his mistake as he ended up falling asleep.

Tommy noticed his dad falling asleep and took the chance to try and explore more of the forest, “Tommy!” Wilbur yelled, following his younger sibling deeper into the woods, worrying he’d get hurt. Techno following behind.

They got a fair distance from Phil as they ran into trouble. “Well, well, well… What do we have here?”. There they were, another giant naga. They’ve never seen one besides their dad and well, they looked a lot more threatening than their dad.

“Looks like I’ve got a free snack~”. He sang. The boys tried to run but they were picked up and squeezed by the giant naga. They were going to be eaten since they ran away from their dad.

Techno tried to move and swing his sword at the naga, but his arms were pinned against him. Stopping any movements. Wilbur tried to reach out to his younger brother who was sobbing.

Despite the lack of air reaching Wilbur’s lungs, he screamed at the top of his lungs. “DAD!”.

Phil’s ears twitched as he picked up the yell, it took a second to process, but he realised it was his son. He snapped upwards immediately, scanning for them and when he didn’t see them insight. His mind went to panic.

He slithered as fast as he could to where the direction of the scream came from and soon heard more screams and cries from his kids, he soon found this naga.

His eyes dilated as his finger’s twitched, his body standing in a position to appear bigger and more threatening to the other naga and hissed loudly. The other naga looked over to Phil with an unsatisfied hiss.

“You’re their father? Why not take them as a free snack?”. They then pinched the back of Tommy’s shirt and held him above his mouth in a threatening manner, displaying his fangs. Tommy screamed out for his father and Phil wanted no more than to hold the boy close and comfort him.

He hissed even louder that time, hoping to scare the other naga but they showed no signs of wanting to remotely stop. And that pissed Phil the fuck off. “Let them go.”. he spoke triumphantly.

But the naga smiled and turned to Phil. Phil’s eyes widened as he realised what was about to happen and driven by instinct, charged at the other naga.

As Phil pounced, Tommy was dropped but thankfully not into the other naga’s mouth but he managed to catch him by his own mouth. He immediately swallowed to send his son to safety.

He wanted to stop as he heard Tommy crying and begging, scared beyond belief but this wasn’t over he still had his other sons to protect. But he promised to himself as soon as this was over, he’d give these boys whatever they wanted to cheer up.

He coiled around the other naga, stopping some of their movements as they struggled to move Wilbur towards their mouth, he beat them to it but grabbing Wilbur himself and dropping him into his mouth and swallowing.

He could feel Wilbur’s cries in his stomach and felt him try to comfort Tommy as much as he could.

He met Techno’s eyes who looked at him horrified, tears in his eyes as he witnessed his father literally eat his siblings.

That just motivated him more to take care of this naga, but he somehow managed to take Phil under him in a swift movement. Restraining Phil.

He saw Techno struggle in the naga’s hand. He used whatever strength he could to make the naga struggle to move from his own coils and moved to grab Techno, he quickly shoved the boy into his mouth and swallowed and then, the two fought.

It took time but eventually, Phil managed to get the other naga to back off. He sighed in relief but that was immediately washed away as he heard his son’s cries, mainly Tommy’s.

“Boys, are you all alright?”. He asked them as he put a hand to his stomach, rubbing it soothingly in circles in hopes of comforting them. “D-Dad?!”, Wilbur yelled out, whose voice shook.

“I’m here boys. What’s wrong?”. He could hear Tommy’s cries grow louder, Wilbur tried to shush his younger sibling, in hopes of calming him but it only seemed to make things worse.

Phil turned his attention to his youngest. “Tommy mate, I’m here. You’re okay.”. He focused his rubs on where he felt the weight of the two. He felt Tommy lean into the touch as he cried.

His sobs quieted slightly, enough that Wilbur was able to calm him. That’s when Techno spoke up, “D-dad”, it was rare that his son’s voice shook, but it was so clear in his voice that Phil could tell his son was scared.

“What’s wrong Techno?”, he asked and rubbed where he felt him. Techno sobbed, “Y-you ate us!”. “Shh, mate it’s okay. You trust me, don’t you? You’re safe I promise.”. “B-but!”. “Hey, hey. You’re safe in there, how do I put this into words? Uhm-“.

They remained silent for a moment as Phil thought of a way to put it. “Basically, my tummy won’t hurt you. I can make it safe for all of you. It’s a little place to keep all of you safe”. He worded it in a way all of them could understand and process.

“S-so we’re gonna be, okay?”. Wilbur asked, “Of course”. He rubbed more circles as he felt the boys lean into the touch more. “How about you boys get some rest now alright? You’ve had a rough day.”.

He then felt the boys tuck in and he sighed in relief, he then made his way back to the den and slept with the boys safe in his stomach.

He remembered that Kristin would be returning the next day, so he would have a lot of explaining to do with what happened but he knew his love would understand, after all, they had done it many times in the past.

He was glad the boys were okay, especially after that experience. He was going to have to make sure he kept a better eye out from now on.

[piscesparker]

Start of something new H.O

Word count: 1.9k

Pianist!reader

Being a pianist was more of a side job while you struggled with your real one. It was more of a form of relaxation than a job, so you wanted to put your talents to good use and volunteered to play for weddings in a chapel nearby.  It's been almost five years since you’ve  been doing it, as much as you loved watching the bride walking down to your music, you also wished you could be there one day; but little did you know that one wedding would change everything. 

Of course you arrived earlier, you had to. While you made sure you brought along the right notes the bustling of the guests were a background sound for you, but then suddenly a mope of dirty blond curls caught your eye and you couldn’t avert your gaze from him. At first you shook it off thinking that he might be the groom but your cloud of doubts were cleared when the real groom came in and stood in front of the altar while the blond stood beside him. 

As time went on you were signaled by someone from the doors that the bride was ready, playing the first chord it instantly echoed, some had their eyes on you while some on the bride. There ceremony began and your eyes landed back on the blond, you knew that you were staring at him and looked a bit weird but when you noticed that he was look back at you, you wanted to pull away but instead you looked right into his icy blue eyes and then turned your attention back to the piano in front of you. 

After almost an hour and a half later, the ceremony concluded and the guests started moving out, while you stayed back, gathering your sheets and getting ready to head back to your lonely apartment when all of a sudden you were approached by the familiar blond who happened to be much taller now that he was standing next to you. “Hi.” He said nervously. 

“Hi.” You replied giving a tight lipped smile. 

“Uh, I just came over to tell you that uh, you played very well.” He stuttered, his cheeks getting rosy. This was really unusual for you, it was very rare that anyone would actually come to compliment your talent and it was the first time a best man were to do it. 

“Oh, thank you so much.” You beamed at him, you were about to leave when he called you back. 

“Okay, this might seem a bit weird but would you like to be my date for my wedding?” You cocked an eyebrow, “No, no I’m sorry I meant, would you like to be my date to my friends’ wedding?” He laughed nervously hoping he didn’t scare you, feeling a bit brave you agreed to, not like you had anything better to do anyways. “I hope your friend won't mind.” You blush. 

“Nonsense! I’m his best man, he can’t say no,” he reassured, “and plus I think he might be a bit busy to notice.” He chuckled. “Harrison Osterfield.” He said extending his hand forward. “Y/n l/n.” You shook his sweaty palm. The drive to the hall you tried to make small talk with Harrison, usually you were the type of person who hated small talk but there was something about him that made you want to talk with him forever. 

On arriving, he was a true gentleman, helping you out of the car and arms interlocked as you entered the hall. Seeing the decorations, you were in complete awe with the aesthetic of the room. He led you to a table which must have been just for him, he even helped you take a seat. Maybe coming here wasn’t such a bad decision after all. A few minutes went by after Harrison excused himself, he came back with a blonde woman by his side. “Y/n, this is my mum Phil.” You smiled and got up from your seat and was unexpectedly taken into a hug by her. “It’s really nice to meet you Mrs. Osterfield.” 

“Likewise, when Hazzy said that his date was beautiful he wasn’t lying.” She chuckled as you and Harrison were a blushing mess. “Thank you.” You replied. The rest of the evening went by meeting Harrison’s family and his best friend who was getting married and lots of laughs along the way. 

As you were sitting with Harrison his face went white, “What’s wrong?” You asked, worried. 

“It’s just..,” he sighed, “my ex, she’s here.” 

Oh.

“Did you know she was coming?” 

“Yeah, she’s a friend of the bride.” he said as you averted your gaze to the said ‘ex’. 

“Come on.” you stood up as an idea pricked in your head; confused, Harrison agreed and took your hand, leading him to the dance floor. “Let's show her what she’s missing yeah?” You beamed, placing your hand on his broad shoulder as his were on your hips. The slow song played as you looked into each other's eyes, smiling and blushing. Swaying, you decided to get a bit more comfortable by placing your head on his chest as he wrapped his arms around you and cheek pressed to your head feeling absolute bliss in his arms. As Harrison caught his friends eyes who was making kissy faces at him, to which he rolled his eyes and turned his attention back to you. 

The remainder of the evening was more calm, mingling along with guests and devouring the delicious food. As the night came to an end Harrison even offered to drop you back to your apartment considering you were a little tipsy, but still managed to give him the right directions. Helping you up to your apartment while you babbled something, Harrison was able to get the keys from your bag whilst your body weight was on him. He chuckled as you kept on rambling how perfect the wedding was. You plopped on the couch and Harrison helped to remove, which must have been painful heels you've been wearing all day. 

“Harrison?” You slurred, pushing away the stray hair from your face, while he hummed in response, “I don’t think I will ever find love, I’m just…” you huffed, “so unlovable.” Harrison’s eyes softened listening to your situation. 

“Don’t say that love,” he cupped your cheeks and stared right into your glossy eyes, “I’m sure you will find someone who gives you all the love you deserve.” 

“I’ve been playing for weddings for the past five years, and today was the first time anyone has thanked me or even invited me.” You cut him off as a single tear rolled down your cheek only for him to wipe it away with the pad of the soft thumb. 

“Wait really?” He was taken aback, stunned actually; he couldn’t believe that people didn’t appreciate your talent and how you did  it for them without anything in return. “They have no idea what they are missing out on.” He said in hopes to get a small smile from you, which you did. “Thank you Harrison, for everything.” 

“It was my pleasure,” He replied and flashed his famous smile, making you swoon, “I guess I’ll leave now.” He informed, getting up from his position and heading towards the door when he felt a tug on his sleeve, “Stay?” You croaked, and as much as Harrison wanted to leave, he waited. Waited for you. Shuffling, you tried to make space on the couch for him as he took off his coat and tie and slipped off his shoes. Laying down, he opened his arms so that you could cuddle in, “I-is this okay?” He asked but was instantly cut off with your soft snores and cheek nuzzled into his chest, giving him a warm and fuzzy feeling within. 

The next morning you woke with a pounding headache and also the smell of coffee hitting your nostrils. You groaned as you sat up and saw a glass of water and advil just sitting on the table in front of you as you chugged it down you were greeted by the blond you met yesterday. 

“Morning!” He chirped. 

“Morning, uh this is gonna sound weird,” you hesitated, “but did we do anything last night?” 

“No, no, not at all!” You sighed in relief, “I got you some coffee.” Harrison smiled and handed you the steaming cup of starbucks’ freshly brewed coffee; sipping on it you realized the time. 

“Shit!” You cursed, “I’m gonna be late for work!” You dashed to your room to get ready as Harrison awkwardly sat in your living room. Couple of minutes went by when you entered the living room again but this time in your work attire, completely forgetting that Harrison was still there. “Can I drop you?” He asked. 

“You’ve already done so much, I couldn’t possibly.” You hesitated, feeling that it wasn’t right to take advantage of his kindness; instead of arguing he playfully jingled his keys in front of you and opened the door for you. Harrison pulled over your office building and you turned to him, “How can I repay you?” 

“How about a date?” He asked confidently. 

“I would love to.” You smiled, handing over your phone so he could add his number. 

“I’ll text you the time and place.” He informed as he bid you goodbye.  

After a long hectic day at work you got back to your apartment, took a shower and popped open a bottle of wine as you watched some cheesy rom-com. Half way into the movie and you were interrupted by a notification from none other than Harrison, which didn’t only light up your phone but also your face. After hours of texting each other you finally decided on a place and time for your date, that night you went to sleep giddy, feeling that maybe you finally have a chance at love. 

As the wind picked up you pulled your coat closer as you walked to the place Harrison had asked you to come, seeing him through the window a soft blush crept up your face but soon it turned into a frown when you saw a brunet sitting in front of him. You thought she looked oddly familiar, and she did; she was Harrison’s so-called ‘ex’ you had seen at the wedding. Eyes trailing back to Harrison who was obviously agitated. Walking up to the table you tried to keep a calm posture. “Excuse me, but you’re in my seat.” You smiled at her. 

She looked at you in disgust and then eyed you, “You know this bitch Haz?” She asked. Usually you weren’t the type of person to get angered easily, but there was something about her that gave you bad vibes. And you didn’t let anyone take away what you finally were waiting for most of your life. “Who are you calling a bitch?” You scoffed, “you had your chance with him, but you blew it, and news flash? He’s not into you anymore and that’s why I’m here.” You informed as Harrison stifled a laugh. “So get your ass out of my seat before I throw it out myself.” You threatened the brunet who finally got the message, embarrassed she got up and showed herself out of the cafe. “Wow that was-,” 

“Rude.” You winced, cutting him off. 

“No, that wasn’t rude at all! That was really brave what you did, I was never able to get her off my back, thank you so much.” He said, holding our hand as the electric touch made you blush, being ever so grateful that he asked you out. 

a/n: I worked really hard on this so feedback is appreciated.

General Taglist: @in-a-lot-of-fandoms-tbh​ @perspectiveparker​ @veronica011sblog​ @hollanderfangirl​ @calltothewild​ @parkerpeter24​ @whatthefuckimbisexual​ @musicalkeys​ @rnatasha​ @hollands-weasley​ @peterspideysstuff​ @ethereal-beauty-p​ @parker-hollandx​ @theonly1outof-a-billion​ @miraclesoflove​ @theliterarymess​ @osterfieldholland01​

Harrison Osterfield Taglist: @hollandbroz-n-haz​ @hjoficrecs​ @euphorichxlland​ @asshatgrace​

[c4pricornc4ts]

“Does this help?” And “do you ever stop talking?” With SBI possibly? For the prompt things?If you want no pressure! -🐝

Mellohi and Mooblooms 

Warnings for non-descriptive violence, blood

It had been a pretty good day for Tommy, he passed his Spanish test, ate lunch with Tubbo and Jack and managed to not get any detentions. He even got Phil to let him spend the night with Tubbo on a school night! So tell him why he’s ending the day getting grabbed by one of the kids that’s always a bit snarky with the teachers and pulled into the bathroom?

There’s two of them, neither are taller than Tommy. Perhaps the height advantage is why he had the confidence to joke around. “Gentlemen, please. No need to get aggressive now is there?” He laughs. 

The other boys aren’t laughing. They look annoyed, the same way Wilbur looked when he broke into his office. The real kind of annoyed. “Do you ever stop talking?” One of the boys pushes him against a stall door roughly and he struggles not to fall as the door swings. 

“W-what did I do? Why are you-” The blonde is cut off by an arm pushing him against the actual wall while their friend punches Tommy. 

He holds his nose and hisses in pain. He doesn’t say anything however, clearly the two highschoolers don’t like it when he talks. 

“You’re such a bother Tom, every damn class you never just shut up.” He’s punched again, this time in the stomach. He cries out but focuses on staying on his feet. He meets the eyes of the one holding him against the wall, gripping both his shoulders. He recognizes him from history class. 

He always was a bit loud in history class, perhaps he deserved to get knocked around a bit. 

He’s pushed against the tiled wall once again, his head knocking against it as his hands were too busy holding his stomach to prevent it. 

“You know, there’s a reason Techno pretends he isn’t related to you. You’re always just embarrassing yourself.” He’s thrown around a bit more, he considers fighting back for a moment but instead he just focuses on how bad it hurt to breathe and how he’s gonna explain this all to Tubbo who was probably sitting on the sidewalk by the bus ramp waiting for him.

“Just,” He’s given a firm shake. “Stop,” Another shake, he’s gonna have such a bad headache after this. “Talking.” He’s let go by the boy from class and he drops to his knees. Breathing heavily and watching the two boys leave trying to process all that just happened. 

He keeps sitting, long after the boys have both up and left. He doesn’t have the energy to get a paper towel for his bloody nose, so he just breathes heavily and watches the blood run down his hand. 

He’s interrupted from his thoughts by his phone ringing. He wipes his bloody hands off on his pants and answers quickly when he sees it’s Tubbo. 

“Tommy? Where are you? Did your science teacher make you stay back again?” Tubbo sounded so casual, Tommy wishes he was in science. 

“I-I’m on the bathroom floor.” 

“Huh? Like the bathroom in the science wing?” He can tell Tubbo’s already starting to head back inside judging by the way the sounds of the busses get quieter. 

“Yeah.” He sighs and shifts to holding the phone up to his ear with his shoulder. Holding his arm up was hurting his ribs. He stares at the bathroom door tiredly, waiting for it to open and for Tubbo to help him stop the bleeding. 

“Tommy? What’s happened? Oh my God, you’re bleeding. Oh God um-” He watches as his friend rushes to get a paper towel, wetting one of them to get the dried blood off Tommy supposes. 

He refuses to look at the brunette even as Tubbo cleans his nose off. “It’s nothing, I went too far with one of my jokes, made some boys mad. I’ll be okay.” 

“They just punched you? Geez.” Tommy was really grateful Tubbo wasn’t so upfront like he was. If Tommy found Tubbo like this, he’d go make those boys pay. 

“It’s fine, really. Just hurts. I’d really just like to go home now.” As soon as Tubbo goes to throw away the paper towels, Tommy gets up and pockets his phone. Trying to hide how much it hurt to stand. Hoping Tubbo would just forget this all ever happened. 

“Yeah, we can go home. You sure you’re alright? They really hurt your nose, you should report them y’know.” 

“I just want to go home for now, please.” He’s usually a lot more energetic but hearing what those boys had to say about him, really hurt him. 

They walk to Tubbo’s house which is thankfully only 2 blocks away from the school. Only stopping twice when Tommy’s stomach was hurting too badly.

Tubbo takes the house key out of his pocket and lets them both in, Tommy immediately climbs the stairs to Tubbo’s room while the other goes to say hello to his family. 

Tubbo’s family was always very nice to Tommy, they loved hearing his over-exaggerated school stories. So he did feel a bit bad for completely ignoring them today.

He didn’t want to annoy anyone else. 

He immediately lays on top of Tubbo’s bed, looking at all the posters on the walls. Tubbo hadn’t lived here long but you wouldn’t be able to tell by how decorated it is. The posters were mostly from video games, with a few fanarts of the DreamSMP group hanging next to the photos of their first meetup on a board. 

Tubbo comes in and sits down. “Do you want to talk about it? You seem more bothered than you would be if they just punched you once.” 

Tommy shifts on his side so he could look at Tubbo from where he sat on his desk chair. “T-they said Techno is embarrassed by me. That I should stop talking.” He can feel himself start to get choked up, but he doesn’t plan on crying at his friend’s house. Maybe later in his own room but certainly not right now. 

“Toms, you know Techno isn’t really embarrassed by you. He just pretends to not know you as a joke. Remember all the times he tells you how proud he is?” 

Though it was rare, sometimes Techno would look over Tommy’s shoulder while he was holding a school assignment he did well on and murmur a monotone, “Good job.” Or when they were sparring, and Tommy would manage to win a round, Techno would sound so proud of him and brag about him at dinner to Philza and Wilbur. 

But he still didn’t talk to Tommy at school, and though he pretended to be okay with Techno pretending to ignore him, he always felt hurt by it deep down. Hearing the boys say that Techno wasn’t just jokingly annoyed made Tommy feel like his anxieties were confirmed. 

“Yeah, it’s just- I dunno Tubbo. It just hurt more than the punches. I guess.” 

He wipes his eyes and then buries his face in the pillow as Tubbo gets up and opens his closet, shuffling through it before coming back. 

He feels something plush land by his arm and he looks up slowly to see Tubbo had tossed a yellow moobloom stuffed animal by his arm. 

“Does this help? My sister made it for me but I know you wanted the moobloom to win so I thought maybe it’d make you feel better. I-it’s kinda stupid.” 

Tommy hugs the yellow cow, burying his face in one of the dandelions. “No, it’s not stupid. I appreciate it.” He laughs a little when Tubbo starts playing Mellohi. 

“Well, I didn’t have an as eventful day as you Tommy, but let me tell you what Purpled did in art. It was crazy!” 

They laugh and talk for a bit before Tubbo streams.The whole time they were pretending like Tommy wasn’t with him. Both of them trying not to laugh as chat freaks out insisting Tommy had been in the frame. (Which he had been once, to go get a snack before sitting back on the bed.) Tommy forgets why he was so upset in the first place when Techno jumps in the call to join the debate of whether Tommy was in Tubbo’s house or not.

[innittowinit]

Abandoned amusement parks are the best place for young children (Chapt. 3)

relationships: sbi + tubbo

Fic summary:

Techno, Tommy, Wilbur and Phil have been hanging out at the abandoned amusement park in the woods since they moved in. Techno likes knowing he's definitely alone with his brothers Tommy likes climbing on the old rides Wilbur likes having a place to play his music Phil likes spending time with his younger brothers

That is, until a group of brothers calling themselves the 'dream team' move in down the road. Will the sleepy boys give in and share the park or will they succeed in scaring the new kids off?

Chapter summary:

Techno, Wil, Tommy and Tubbo go together :) chaos ensues

Chapter word count: 2643

AO3

Games were never peaceful with Tommy around, the boy had a habit of creating chaos where-ever he went. Befriending Tubbo had probably been the most he had done to surprise anyone though, nobody expected the loud blonde to bond with the quiet Brunette. What they didn’t know though, was that Tubbo shared just the same amount of chaotic energy as tommy; they were both beacons for destruction, the fact that Tubbo liked his alone time more only made this better since Teachers were keen to partner them up, convinced that Tubbo’s good manners would rub off on Tommy.

Spoiler alert! They didn’t. Instead, Tommy helped Tubbo come out of his shell, all the energy he had kept inside was finally able to be shared with someone and that made him feel great. Tommy loved it too, he loved his brother’s but there was nothing like the feeling of having a friend who you genuinely could be yourself with. Very quickly after becoming friends, they had pretty much become joined by the hip. Not in the same way as Techno and Wilbur though, they were both perfectly fine away from each other, but if they had the chance they’d laugh and yell and play for as long as possible, loving every second of it.

“Tubbo! Watch this!” Tommy laughed as he pulled his friend into his room, pulling out a toy record player. Nobody was sure why but the kid had an obsession with the discs, most people put it down to him just looking up to his big brother and wanting to get into music too. “I got a new disc! Look! Look!”

Switching it on, the toy started spinning the plastic disc around slowly. Anyone older could tell you that the ‘disc’s’ just had little speakers at the top and a sensor that told it when to play the music, but for Tommy and Tubbo, it was incredibly real. The two sat transfixed around the little box as it played the song, Tubbo looking up to his friend with a big grin once it ended.

“That’s really cool, Toms’”

“Yeah! Mum got me it because I finished all my chores without her needing to ask me” Beaming, he popped the little disc out of the player and put it away, sliding it carefully onto the shelf. It was sweet how much effort he gave to things he really cared about, he knew he had worked hard for this and he was proud of himself.

This day just kept getting better, Tommy thought to himself as he heard his brother calling for him, spending time with them was always a lot of fun. “Hey Tommy!” Wilbur chirped while knocking on his door “Me and Techno are going off to L’manburg now if you wanna come, Phil’s still at-”

As he opened the door, Wilbur’s face scrunched up into an expression Tommy didn’t recognise. He bet he would have said a bad word if he and Tubbo weren’t there. It took a minute to mull the situation over but he quickly realised that the sudden drop in mood was because they weren’t supposed to tell anyone about the secret base!

Tommy felt a little bit like a detective, he had been able to figure out what was wrong with Wilbur without even needing to ask. Now that he thought about it, Wil was very good at doing that too, Tommy rarely had to actually ask for thing’s if he felt sleepy or sick. He wondered why Wil was so good at that. Maybe grown ups were just better at those things, he couldn’t wait till he was 13 too.

“Aw c’mon Wil, Tubbo’s good at keeping secrets! Let’s go! Let’s go!” The boy sprung up and hopped over to Wilbur, tugging on his arm as he tried to convince him. It didn’t seem to be working. Wil shook him off and folded his arms, an exasperated sigh leaving his lips.

“Tommy, it’s a secret for a reason-”

“Tubbo can join in on the secret! Please Wil! You like Tubbo!”

Wilbur shook his head and sighed, glancing to Techno, who seemed to be standing outside the door, for confirmation on what he should do.

“Okay fine. But you can’t start going off there on your own, you still need one of us to take you okay?”

Tommy nodded excitedly and ran back to Tubbo, grabbing him by the arm and pulling him up, the poor boy still not knowing what was going on.

“Tommy?” Tubbo questioned, eyebrows perking up as he grinned, even in his absolute confusion he was still happy, because Tommy was happy, and that meant something good was happening.

“We’re going to the secret base Tubbo!” Tommy practically yelled it as he ran downstairs, tugging Tubbo along with him. “We’re going and it’s going to be so fun! I’ll show you all my favourite spots! But you need to promise that you won't tell anyone, not never! Ever never” His seven year old grammar skills weren't the best but at least he got his point across.

The duo sat at the bottom of the stairs, giggling and chatting as they got their shoes on. Recently Tommy had got some good white ones with a red cap on the toes, he thought they looked amazing; the best part though was that they were big boy lace up shoes, granted he couldn't tie his laces yet but he was still very excited about being so grown up. When he had first got them, he had bragged to Tubbo for hours about how he was such an adult now because of the shoes.

After Techno tied up Tommy’s laces for him, the four were off on their way to the old theme park. It had become a habit at this point, a daily routine. If they went all day with nobody visiting it, things just didn’t feel right. For Tubbo though, the walk through the woods was definitely not a habit, it was quite frightening actually.

“Psst” The shorter boy tugged on Tommy’s T-shirt, “You sure this is the right way? There isn’t even a path here..”

“Yup!” Not recognising Tubbos worries, Tommy just nodded and gave him a grin with a thumbs up. He was far too excited to show his friend around their spot.

Tubbo nodded.

After a ten minute walk through the woods, Tommy running and skipping the entire way, Techno and Wilbur having some kind of silent conversation with their eyes, and Tubbo silently panicking about the possibility of getting lost in the trees, they made it to L’manburg.

Overgrown as ever, sign large and rusted, it stood tall among the nature surrounding it. Tommy was the first to sprint over to the entrance, Tubbo’s hand clasped in his own as he pulled him along. It didn’t take long for Tubbo to become just as excited as Tommy was as he looked around. A whole amusement park, just for them. Any kid would have jumped at the chance.

“I know all the best spots! C’mon C’mon I’ll show you!”

And just like that, the two boys had run off to explore the park. Neither Wilbur or Techno saw any reason to go after them, Tommy knew his way around and he knew which places were stable enough to climb on, what they didn’t consider was that Phil was usually around to make sure he didn’t climb too high and get hurt.

====

Tommy led the way, most coasters had a path of steps up to the first big drop, he supposed that was for maintenance. It didn’t matter much now though, to him it was all a big climbing frame.

“Tommy this doesn’t seem safe, do your brothers usually let you go up this high”

Tommy just nodded and climbed higher, loving the feeling of wind in his hair as he looked down and saw the whole park, he could even see Techno and Wil sitting in the old pool as usual, he wondered what they were talking about.

“Do you know how to monkey bar Tub?” Tommy smiled as he sat down where the steps ended, he felt the presence of his friend sitting down next to him. He didn’t want to scare Tubbo but he really wanted to show him the best spot. Not even his brother’s had seen this since they were all too heavy to climb up here, he wanted to share his spot with someone.

Tubbo nodded, grinning a little as he looked down, he was still nervous but Tommy seemed to know this place well. Plus! He could monkey bar very well.

When he looked beneath them, he saw some murky looking water, this place must have been abandoned a long time ago because a considerable amount of it seemed to be flooded beyond repair. For a moment Tubbo wondered what kind of animals had overtaken that section and then he shook his head, deciding that it didn’t matter and he was good at monkey bars so he shouldn’t need to think about it.

“Hmm okay” Tommy smiled, swinging his legs back and forth, like he was on a swing “Okay so you see that big Water tower? You only need to swing a few times before you get to it, there's a loft inside and it’s a good place to hang out. I think The coaster used to pass through it, the loft probably had like spare parts or something though” Tommy smiled as he pointed to the tower, a few metres ahead of them, then to the tracks that they would be dangling from. “Just Monkey bar from the tracks and then I'll help you into the water tower if you find it tricky to pull yourself up.

Tommy went first. Anyone would have told them to stop had they been supervised. This was absolutely not something two seven year olds should be doing. As his small body swung from track to track, Tubbo took mental notes, memorising just where he put his hands. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t scared but he was excited too, this was cool! Sliding himself down on the tracks, he felt his weight shifting between the steps and his hands. Feeling breathless, he moved across the rails, one at a time. Tommy was spouting out encouraging words for him as he refused to look down but he couldn't hear him, he was just focusing on not falling. Eventually he felt Tommy’s hands clasp onto his arms, pulling him up and into the water tower.

“Oh my god..” Tubbo chuckled, crashing into Tommy with a big hug “That was so cool! Tommy you do that on your own? All the time?”

With a nod and a big grin the taller boy hugged him back, Tubbo was good at this stuff but dangling off a rollercoaster would scare anyone.

“So this is a secret? No grown ups know?” “Not a single one.” “What about your parents?” “They think we’re at the playground” “I’ll keep it secret too then. I think this is really cool Tommy!”

…

“Yeah but these super mean boys who just moved in are trying to take it away. Wilbur killed one of them though so I think it’s done now” “Wilbur’s cool”

The boys sat there, just chatting, for hours; Tommy showed Tubbo a couple more places you could get to from inside the water tower but eventually the sun started to set and they knew it would be time to head back down.

Like before, Tommy went first with the Monkey bars, then pulled Tubbo up. The walk down was always scarier since it was so steep, even with so much practice Tommy still felt like he’d fall down sometimes. They made it though, Tommy running down the final few steps flawlessly, muscle memory kicking in as he saw his brother’s waiting for them at the bottom.

Unfortunately for him, Tubbo didn’t realise the only reason Tommy could run this part was because he had done it so many times. The brunette let go of the railing and sped up, foot slipping off the small wooden steps and leaving him to fall through the gap between the rails and the steps.

It wasn’t a far fall at all. It was barely over two metres; it was enough to knock the wind out of him though, and it was enough to scare a child.

The trio came rushing over as soon as he had lost his footing, Tommy crouched beside him, trying to be a big boy and not make a scene. If Tubbo had gotten hurt it would be his fault, he was the one who insisted he came, he was the one that took him up an old coaster. This was his fault.

Tubbo looked hurt. He had flushed cheeks, like he was trying to be a big boy and not tear up, and he had a bloody knee that he had caught on his way down.

“Tech’? You've got some stuff for thing’s like this right?” Wilbur glanced over to his brother, after Wil had thrown a rock at George, Phil had insisted someone carry at least some supplies to clean out a wound god forbid someone got hurt again. It felt stupid that they needed it, Wil knew he should have been more responsible.

After getting a small green pouch out of his bag, Techno crouched beside Tubbo. He waved his arm a little but Tubbo didn’t understand what he meant, he knew about Techno’s problems with talking, Tommy had told him about it, but he had never bothered to try and learn how to read him. It was just too hard to try and understand all the different things, they could be so subtle and mean something else entirely.

Techno furrowed his eyebrows, was he mad? Then he waved his arm again and pointed to Tubbo’s knee. Still not understanding, Tubbo started to get a little upset; he felt incredibly guilty for this, he shouldn't have been reckless, now Techno was trying to help him and he couldn’t even understand him.

“Stick your leg out Tubster” Wilbur hummed, sitting on the opposite side of him and pulling Tommy into his lap, half because the boy was usually getting tired by now and half because he wouldn’t stop moving around and tugging at Tubbo, which he was sure would make Techno’s job harder.

Thankfully, Tommy didn’t put up a fight, he just leaned his head on Wilbur’s chest and watched the scene take place. Wil couldn’t help but wonder what he did all day that tired him out so much.

Techno carried on, carefully dabbing at the cut with some kind of alcohol Phil had given to him. He made another motion and Tubbo looked straight to Wil, feeling a little embarrassed that he couldn't understand.

“Bend your knee” Wilbur placed a hand on the boy's back, trying to provide some kind of comfort for him since he was sure it didn’t feel nice having to have someone translate everything for you.

With a plaster stuck over the cut, Techno helped him stand back up, looking over him one last time to make sure there was nothing else, before putting the med-kit away.

By now it was getting dark, Tommy had fallen asleep against Wilbur’s chest and Tubbo looked like he was almost there too. There was no doubt that he and Techno would be in trouble for not bringing them home earlier, yet again.

God. Wilbur thought to himself. They really needed to Teach Tommy how to read time, if he kept going off on his own.

----

“Wow Wil, I see you brought one of them back with a bloody knee. Upgraded from throwing rocks at kids your age, to throwing them at seven year olds?”

“Fuck off phil”

[chiseler]

VISAGE... VOICE... VITAPHONE

In Dimitri Kirsanoff's Menilmontant a destitute waif, betrayed and abandoned by the man who seduced her, sits on a park bench with her newborn infant. Beside her is an old man eating a sandwich. This wordless exchange is one of the greatest moments ever committed to film. Nadia Sibirskaia’s face reveals all of life’s cruel mysteries as she gazes upon a crust of bread.

The persistence of hope is the dark angel that underlies despair, and here it taunts her mercilessly. A whole series of fluctuations of expression and movement in reaction to anguish, physical pain involving hesitation, dignity, ravenous hunger, survival, self-contempt, modesty, boundless gratitude. All articulated with absolute clarity without hitting notes (without touching the keys). Chaplin could have played either the old man on the bench (his mustache is a sensory device!) or Nadia. And it would have been masterful and deeply affecting, but Nadia went beyond virtuosity and beyond naturalism.

She made it actual. And it was more than just a face. Sunlight travels across buildings at every second of the day; and the seasons change the incidence of light, too. Nothing stands still. Even déjà vu doesn’t attempt an exact rendition with the feel of a perfect replay.

***

Another face equates with pain—though a far more luxurious and decadent kind of pain, a visage summoning leftover ancient Roman excess or Florentine backstreets, the contortions of Art Nouveau with its flowers, prismatic walls and perennial themes of ripeness/rottenness, sadomasochism. While various directors have helped mold her naturally unsettling screen presence into nightmare visions, it’s Barbara Steele's vulnerability I tend to remember.

She is open and sensitive even as she materializes in the viewer’s mind as a kabuki demon one moment and a radioactive waxwork the next, a kind of alchemical transformation, an appeal to what Keats called negative capability—one’s ability to appreciate something without wholly understanding it; in fact, one’s ability to appreciate an object for its mystery.

“When did I ever deserve this dark mirror?” Barbara Steele asks me. “Clever you – I feel you’ve just twisted and wrung out an old bible to dry that’s been left somewhere outside lost in timeless years of…” She pauses. “…of rain.”

She made her Italian screen debut as a revenant.  And in so doing taught us all the eye is not a camera. It’s a projector.

Barbara Steele’s appearance in 1960’s Black Sunday is, even now, a shock of such febrile sexuality that it forces us to ask ourselves—why do we saddle her with diminishing monikers like “Scream Queen”? And, more fundamentally, why does her force of personality seem to trouble and vex every narrative she touches?

Of course, the answer is partly grounded in Steele’s unique physical equipment—and here I’ll risk repeating a clichéd word about those famous emerald eyes of hers: “Otherworldly.” As if sparked to life by silent-film magician Segundo de Chomón, the supreme master of hand-tinted illusionism. Peculiar even within the context of gothic tales on celluloid for the consumption of Mod audiences, flashing at us from well beyond their allotted time and place in history.

Barbara Steele is one of cinema’s true abominations—a light-repelling force that presents itself in an arrangement of shadows on the screen. No “luminary,”Steele is celluloid anti-matter; a slow burning black flame that devours every filament around it. Steele’s beauty is no accident of nature, even if she is, but in Black Sunday she gives a virtuoso performance by an artist in full command of her talent summoning and banishing it in equal measure in her dual role as mortal damsel in distress and undead predator released from her crypt. Filmmaking is the darkest and unholiest of arts (done right, that is), and for Mario Bava it becomes the invocation of beast and woman from the unconsecrated soil of nightmares. Steele remains the high priestess of the unlit and buried chambers of the imagination; the pure pleasure center of original sin and the murderous impulse buried just below the surface. She reminds us that existence itself is the highest form of betrayal and a continuing curse on us all.

Where Steele’s Italian films are concerned, we are watching silent movies of a sort. “The loss of voice for me has always been devastating…. It’s almost like some karmic debt…” Her sonic presence was eclipsed in a string of crudely, sadly dubbed horror vehicles, yes, including Black Sunday—no doubt aficionados of the great Mario Bava will object to my calling it a “vehicle.”  But whenever Steele appears, the storyline falls away. Anachronism rules. Not to mention the director’s exquisite sets, all keyed and subordinated to his ingénue’s stark loveliness (understood in black and white, molded by Italian cameramen into disquieting and sudden plasticity). Like a hot-blooded funerary sculpture made of alabaster, raven hair piled high, Steele’s already imposing height summons schizoid power, satanic sorcery—she’s Eros and Thanatos dynamically balanced. I’ve screened the film many times; and the famous opening sequence invariably leaves my otherwise jaded film students looking traumatized. (Just as a young Martin Scorsese was shattered by it once upon a time.) Barbara Steele’s defiant witch, spewing a final curse upon her mortal judges, pierces to the bone.

While Italian movies robbed Steele of her voice, they liberated her from what it had meant in Britain. Leading ladies in Brit films tended to be well brought-up young things, unless they were lusty and working-class like Diana Dors. Even at Hammer, where sexuality was unleashed regularly via bouts of vampirism, the erotically active roles usually went to continental lovelies (Polish immigrant Ingrid Pitt got her work permit based on Hammer’s claim that no native-born actress could exude such desire and desirability). Steele turns up all-too briefly in Basil Dearden’s Sapphire (1959) as an art school girl, the only kind of role that might allow for both intelligence and a certain liberated attitude. And Steele really was exactly that type. Her appearance is so arresting, you want the movie to simply abandon its plot and follow her into some fresh storyline: it wouldn’t really matter what.

In Italy, Steele suddenly became class-less and nation-less, devoid of associations beyond those conjured by the chiseled cheekbones and enormous eyes (convincingly replaced with poached eggs by Bava for a special effects shot). Her inescapable exoticism didn’t make sense in her native land, but that bone structure could suggest Latin, Slavic, or anything else. Omninational, omnisexual, but definitely carnivorous.

Generally remote with his actors, who were nothing more than compositional elements to him, Bava’s capricious move of selecting his female lead from a magazine photo-spread looks almost prescient in hindsight. Was it luck? Or, perhaps her now legendary eyes suggested a bizarre and beautiful leitmotif… to be destroyed, resurrected, and played endlessly on a register of emotions—extreme emotions, that is, tabooed delights.

Steele shares an anecdote about her director’s temperament and working methods on Black Sunday… “Everything was so meticulously planned that Bava rarely asked me for multiple takes. There was no sense of urgency or drama, which was rare for an Italian director…” I’m suddenly detecting deep ambivalence as she vacillates between little jabs at Bava (“He was a Jesuit priest on the set, somewhere far away”) and gratitude. “There was a tremendous feeling of respect, whereas in my earliest roles at Rank I always felt shoved around, practically negated by the pressure of production.

“Bava did go absolutely berserk once,” she goes on. “John Richardson, this gorgeous, sinewy creature, for some reason couldn’t carry me across the room. And I was like eleven pounds in those days. We had to do it over and over, twenty times or something, and whenever John stumbled or dropped me, the whole crew would be in hysterics. We were all howling with laughter, except for Bava – he went simply wild! Eventually, some poor grip had to get down on all fours, and I rode on his back in a chair with John pretending to carry me.”

If Black Sunday is a summation of spiritual and physical dread, it’s because Steele is everyone in this dream-bauble, everyone and everywhere, an all-consuming autumnal atmosphere. Which, of course, provides Mario Bava with something truly rare—a face and mien as unsettling as horror films always claim to be and almost never are. The devastation she leaves behind, her anarchic displacement, which has nothing to do with conventional notions of performance or “good acting,” is hard to describe. And here Bava earns his label of genius through compositional meaning—amid the groundswells of fog, lifeless trees and gloomy dungeons, Steele is an absence impossibly concretized in penumbras and voids. She is a force of nature never to be repeated.

Nightmare Castle (1965) starts off in Lady Chatterley mode as Steele cheats on her mad scientist husband (“At this rate you’ll wipe out every frog in the entire county,” is an opening line less pithy but more arresting than “Rosebud”) with the horny handyman. She’s soon murdered on an electrified bed, hubby preserving her heart for unexplained reasons while using her blood to rejuvenate his mistress. Then he marries her insipid blonde half sister (Steele again in a blonde wig) and tries to drive her mad. So we now have Gaslight merged with Poe and every revenge-from-the-grave story ever.

The identical twin half-sisters (?) bifurcate further: blonde Barbara goes schizoid, possessed it seems by her departed semi-sibling. Dark Barbara comes back as a very corporeal revenant, hair occluding one profile, like Phil Oakey of the Human League. Tossing the locks aside, she reveals… the horror!

Almost indescribable in terms of plot, character or dialogue, the film looks stunning, as chiaroscuro as Steele’s coal-black hair and snow-white skin. Apparently the product of monkey-typewriter improvisation, the story serves as a kind of post-modern dream-jumble of every Gothic narrative ever. You might get a story like this if you showed all of Steele’s horrors to a pissed-up grade-schooler and then asked them to describe the film they just saw. As a result, the movie really takes what Dario Argento likes to call the “non-Cartesian” qualities of Italian horror to the next dank, stone-buttressed level.

When I first met Barbara Steele about ten years ago, we somehow found ourselves sitting in front of a Brancusi sculpture here in New York City—I remember a filmmaker acquaintance joking afterwards: “Steele beats bronze!” Indeed, at 66 she was still stunningly beautiful, flirtatious, frighteningly aware of the power of her stare.

She was a painter in her youth, so it’s not surprising that, even as I visualize her in a voluptuous, cinematic world of castles and blighted landscapes, her own self-image is perennially absorbed by art—in the sense of André Malraux’s Museum Without Walls. She asks me to show her my paintings and when I dodge the subject out of shyness she offers:

A friend of mine just had a show of his art in a little cinema here – very small paintings, about 8 inches by 6 – and then they projected them onto one of their screens and they looked fantastic!  Size is everything!   Unless you were born in the Renaissance… then you were surrounded by silence and stone walls, shadows and glimmers of gold, and faces that are like spells they look so informed.

Steele speaks of her “old, suspicious Celtic soul,” her bitterness at having “flitted through movies par hazard,” and a newfound desire to make audio books (what colossal revenge!). It’s poetic really, this doppelganger, a ghost-like screen persona following her around. Whenever I think of the effect her movies have had on me, the following words by Charles Lamb leap to mind.

Gorgons and Hydras and Chimaeras – dire stories of Celaeno and the Harpies – may reproduce themselves in the brain of superstition – but they were there before. They are transcripts, types – the archetypes are in us, and eternal. How else should the recital of that which we know in a waking sense to be false come to effect us at all? Is it that we naturally conceive terror from such objects, considered in their capacity of being able to inflict upon us bodily injury? O, least of all! These terrors are of older standing. They date beyond body – or without the body, they would have been the same… That the kind of fear here treated is purely spiritual – that it is strong in proportion as it is objectless on earth, that it predominates in the period of our sinless infancy – are difficulties the solution of which may afford some probable insight into our ante-mundane condition, and a peep at least into the shadowland of pre-existence.

Even the wooliest metaphysics can be hard to separate from actual violence. Case in point: the night of September 22, 1796. Charles Lamb had his own brush with horror, when the future poet and author of children’s stories found himself removing a bloody knife from his sister’s hand. A spasm of matricidal rage that would land her in a mad house—and tending to prove, once again, the need for genres of terror and trepidation.  For a moment at least, Steele seems to agree, bowled over by the Lamb anecdote, literally screaming: “AND THAT NAME – LAMB – IT MAKES YOU THINK OF SUCH INNOCENT BRITISH LANDSCAPES!”  She’s a fairly solitary and introspective person on the one hand, capable of intense and unexpected eruptions of joy on the other, which may be why Italians have always embraced her—a shared gloomy zest for life, fatalism and pasta. There’s something intensely porous about her (as porous as film itself), which helps clarify her otherwise inscrutable tension with that shadow-self up on the screen, the one she so busily downgrades.

***

The thirties bustled with wise-cracking, fast-talking dames, probably not for any proto-feminist reason, but simply because the writers had a surplus of sassy talk to dispense onto the screen, and audiences liked looking at legs, so why not combine the two? Amid all the petite peroxide pretties, a few acerbic character actresses were allowed room, perhaps to make the cuties bloom all the more radiantly against them. Whatever the aesthetic logic, we can be grateful for it, since it gave us Ruth Donnelly and Winnie Lightner and Jean Dixon and a few other unforgettable shrews and wiseacres, adept as stage mothers, streetwise best pals of the leading lady, etc.

Aline MacMahon sort of fits into this category, but also destroys any category she sees with her laser vision. In Gold Diggers of 1933, she’s a Fanny Bryce type comedy showgirl, and in Heat Lightning (1934) she’s an ex-moll running a garage. In between, she played world-weary secretaries and put-upon mothers, taking any role and stealing the movie along with it. Rather than resist classification, she goes on the offensive, smashing down stereotypes and insisting on her own peculiar individuality.

Big and rangy in the body and hands, she had a strange, sculpted beauty, and was as luminous as Dietrich. Maybe more so: cameramen hit Marlene with brighter lights to make her shine out, whereas Aline was typically in the lead’s shadow. Her complexion is like the glass of milk in Suspicion in which Hitchcock planted a light bulb. That white. A sheet of paper passing before her face would appear as a dark eclipsing rectangle.

The law of photogenics insists that actresses hired to play the non-glamorous roles must be staggeringly lovely, but off-kilter and unconventional enough to fool the audience into thinking they’re seeing failed beauty. Aline’s unlikely photofit of attractive features resulted in a caricature of elegance and earthiness in precisely the wrong proportions, which makes her fascinating and alluring to watch.

The eyes are seriously big, saucers hooded by the heaviest lids since Karloff’s monster, resulting in long slits which strive to echo the even wider mouth, a perfectly straight line seemingly intent on decapitation. Like a horizon with lips. The chin cleft below catches the viewer by surprise. Were chin clefts on women more common then, or did studios screen in favor of them? The cheekbones have a graceful, yet powerful curve, so the face as a whole combines the qualities of an ice-cream baby and a crystal skull. All wrong, and alright with me.

Aline’s humor about her ill-assorted collection of perfect features was often played on in dialogue, so it’s pleasing when a role like the one in Heat Lightning admits that, for all her unlikeliness, she was indeed beautiful. More than a pretty face, too: her way with a snappy rejoinder distinguished her even in an era of exceptional wit and quicksilver delivery. And her essence, which radiated out whatever the role, was that of a philosophical, warm, smart, funny, sad woman: the essence of the age.

By Daniel Riccuito and David Cairns

[bash-it-all-blog]

Neighbours AU

Au where the Avengers all end up living on the same apartment floor; Tony is the last to come and of course, Steve can’t help but find himself falling in love with the new adorable, brilliant- but god so sexy Italian next door. 

Tony however is recovering and taking some time off from his abusive boyfriend Ty, despite that he can’t help but notice the blue-eyed blonde next door. 

A family is formed along the way.

--

Steve has lived in this building for about a year now, if Steve had anyone over- that wasn’t Bucky, since Bucky lived across the hall, they would probably say something about how the building was a bit worn out, if they made their way up the elevator and walked onto Steve’s floor they might just ask about why the building had so very few rooms and they might even question why the hallway was actually a circle and looked more like a giant living room then a hall. They might also comment on the lack of people if they stayed long enough to notice. But of course, Steve didn’t have to worry about anyone’s questions, as he didn’t really have anyone to bring home in the first place.

It seemed everyone who lived here didn’t really have much of a social life outside of well, who lived here.

Steve found that he didn’t mind but sometimes when he’d cross the “hallway” to visit Bucky he’d find himself wishing that there were a few more people he could interact with.

It was actually the empty hallway that got to Steve the most, it was probably because it looked like it could so easily become a lounge or a place where you could hang out, with its already circular shape and with the way all the room doors were placed around it. Steve could easily imagine having friends who lived across the hall or next door, but again it was just his own wishful thinking.

But the hope was still there since no one actually occupied those rooms- yet.

--

Clint was the first to come. Steve had been carrying groceries toward the elevator cautiously making sure the bags didn’t rip as he walked. When Steve looked up from his grocery bags he found himself looking at his usually bland co-landlord who was holding someone by their ear. The someone was blond and rough looking, he looked like he hadn’t had a proper shower for days, looking a bit more closely Steve could see dark bags under his eyes. However, the man still had the biggest grin on his face as if having his ear gripped by Phil was a dream come true.

It was a little weird but Steve’s seen weirder. Shrugging to himself, Steve looked to Phil. Phil’s eye twitched, and in turn, as if sensing Steve from behind him, the man looked at Steve, then the man’s grin got a little wider.

“Hi! I’m Clint!” The man waved at Steve. Steve smiled at the strange picture he had in front of him.

“I’m Steve. Do you live here?” He asked a bit curious, again it was rare that the building had any visitors.

Instead of answering Phil cut in, “He will be living here, actually, he’ll be on the same floor as you and Bucky. Just 2 doors to the right.” Clint looked at Phil as if it were a new development, and with the way Clint came off to Steve, he could find himself easily believing it to be true.

--

2 months later a woman named Natasha moved in next to Clint- or least that’s what Clint told Bucky and him.  

--

As time passed Steve, Bucky and Clint became pretty good friends. Clint had no sense of personal space and Bucky had no problems snarking off to their new friend. The hallway was still empty but Steve’s place became something of a hangout. All was good until Bucky began to worry about Clint’s sanity. They knew the man was weird but they were both still a bit concerned. It was when Clint was at work that they breached the topic of Clint.

Bucky knocked on Steve’s door the second he saw Clint exit the building.

“But have you even seen her?” Is the first thing that comes out of Bucky’s mouth when the blond opened his door.

“Well, I’ve tried knocking on her door a few times but no one ever answers,” Steve replied.

“I know Stevie but how do we tell our resident birdman that she doesn’t exist, he just keeps talking about this ‘Natasha’ and if she actually lived here I think we’d at least know- I once spent a whole day scoping out her door. And I don’t even know if she’s real!?!” Bucky exclaimed.

“Wait.” Steve paused. “A whole day? Don’t you work everyday, Buck’?” The younger man questioned, looking at his best friend a bit dubiously.  

“Stevie that’s not what’s important here, this is our friends' sanity!”  

“You just hate your job.” He interrupted.  

“Shut up, that’s not important right now. How many times are we going to have this conversation! You know what, maybe Clint’s just seein’ ghosts? Our building is pretty scary.”

“Bucky isn’t it Tuesday?” Steve’s lips twitched up as he asked completely ignoring his friends rambling.

“I swear to God punk, you bring up m’a job one more time and I will sock y’a right here, right now. Just ‘cause you buffed up doesn’t mean I ain’t still able to kick your ass.”

“Okay, okay. What do we do then?”

“I don’t know! Why do you think I’m here?! Should we get salt?”

“What? Buck- maybe just, uh, leave it alone, for all we know this Natasha is real. Clint’s weird but I don’t think he’s crazy or seein’ ghosts. If anything he’s prob’ly just messin’ with us.”

“You know what Stevie, fine. Whatever. When some redhead ghost comes to kill you in y’a sleep, I don’t wanna see your ghost hangin’ around. Got it?” 

Grumbling to himself Bucky turned around and headed back to his own room before Steve could reply. Lips pulling into a smile at his friends antics Steve closed the door and turned towards his kitchen where he stopped and froze, he found himself looking and seeing a redhead woman, who was very much alive and matched Clint’s description to a T, she was sitting back and balancing a chair on two legs, holding a cherry to her mouth; Steve felt a scream rip out from the back of his throat.

He could already hear Bucky’s cries of “I told you so’s,” ringing in his ears.

--

Moving into his new home, Thor found he liked it. Steven was very kind and Natasha reminded him of his cousin Sif. She wasn’t the best playmate but Thor found himself loving her regardless. Moving in Thor found no regrets, Loki was a mere floor away and even though Clint seemed to have something against Loki, the blond found himself quickly becoming apart of the friendship blooming on the fourth floor. Bucky was a funny character though pessimistic Thor found himself smiling at a lot of the strange things Bucky would say under his breath.

Steve found that Thor really helped bring some light into their strange group. And he also really enjoyed Thor’s enthusiasm. It was 3 months after Thor’s arrival that Steve began to see a change in their “hallway”.

--

“Why is there a couch?” Clint asked. The couch in question was in the middle of their circular hallway, it had what looked like 2.5 seats, and was probably the ugliest thing Steve had ever seen. It was ripped through the back and had a strange green, yellow and purple pattern that really made no sense, and Steve was an art student. 

“Why is it so ugly?” Bucky asked. Making his way around it, “and it’s ripped!” He gave a face of disgust.

“I think we should spray it. Or just pour bleach on it.” Clint said. Still looking at it disdainfully. “You know what, let’s just burn it. I say we burn it.”

“Let’s burn it.” Bucky agreed, standing beside Clint. Then Thor came up the elevator with a matching lamp. The three men looked up at the foreigner.

“Friends!” Thor smiled bringing the lamp up next to the couch. “I have bought this couch at a sale. I was doing tourism!”    

Steve looked at Thor questioningly, scrunching up his face and looking at his friend incredulously. “Thor, you're not even tourist. You’ve been here over 3 months already.”

“-but more importantly why did you buy this monstrosity?” Clint cut in.

Thor smiled, “It was strange looking and I found it to be sold at a very cheap price!”

“You paid for it?!?!” Bucky looked scandalized.  

“Of course, nothing is free in this world.” Thor looked at Bucky as if he was completely out of his mind.

“Thor. What will you be doing with this couch?” A female voice chimed in. Kicking the couch to the side a bit, in her hand was a white bucket filled with something that smelled chemically, Bleach?

“Oh! I wished for it to be in my apartment, however, I cannot fit it through the door. So instead I decided to share it with the rest of you and we shall keep it in our common area. We are always in Steven’s room, so this way we may have more space and Steven will no longer see reason to yell at us for messes!” Thor declared. Then without further ado, Natasha dumped the bucket of bleach on  the couch. Thor shrieked.

--

After all was set and dry, and the couch had unfortunately survived. Bucky still had a look of disbelief on his face. Looking at Natasha he shook his head and attempted to clear up his confusion, “-hold on, wait one second right there, just who the in the fuck are you?”

Clint looked at Bucky oddly “That’s just Natasha, dumbass.”

Then Steve started laughing.

--

Dr. Bruce Banner was a quiet fellow who somehow ended up living next door to Thor. It was actually Thor who brought him in, Bruce technically had a place to live but was kind of on the run so he ended up following Thor after they ‘bumped’ into each other at a bar. Bar’s were not usually Bruce’s scene but things had been kind of shitty lately and he well, needed a break but then some asshole had tried to take his seat and was hitting on some girl who clearly wasn’t interested, so Bruce might have punched the guy’s lights out.

And then it was an all-out brawl. Friends apparently stuck up for one another- not that Bruce had ever known. Then the girl joined in, and then so did Thor. They fought a ‘worthy battle’ as Thor liked to call it at least. 

Both of them drunk and beat- literally, ended up making their way to Thor’s place. And as Bruce was about to leave the next morning, a pirate- or man? Named Nick gave him a key, took some money out of his wallet and then sent Bruce back upstairs. And the rest was history.

--

They were lounging around on Thor’s monstrosity- well Thor named it Bilgesnipe. So they were lounging around on Bligesnipe when Bruce came out of his room with a small vial in one hand a spray top in the other.  

“What’s up Bruce?” Steve asked. Looking at the scientist.

“I know how to fix the couch of its horror.”

“What does that even mean?” Clint asked, hanging out from the vent right above the couch.

“It means this,” Bruce pointed to the vial in his hand, “will disinfect and get rid of any nasty smell Bilgesnipe has. And I also modified it to leave that floral scent that Natasha seems to enjoy.” Bruce explained, he looked haggard, now that Steve really looked at the man. “Now get off the couch.” All of them made room for Bruce and then he put the spray top on the liquid letting the tube slide in before he began to start spraying. “Now give it an hour or two and come back. I am going to sleep.”

“When did you last sleep anyways Bruce?”

“Whenever Monday was,” Bruce replied before shutting his door behind him and a few seconds later a dramatic thud could be heard on the other side.

“Bruce dropped something,” Natasha said, looking at a small slip of paper in her hand. Steve knew Bruce didn’t drop it, Natasha just stole it. But he didn’t say anything as he felt her eyes fall on him. She knew, he knew. 

“Who’s Valkyrie?” Clint asked reading the name off the tiny paper.

Steve came over and looked, seeing what was obviously the Valkyrie’s number and small message below it, that read ‘Thx for starting the brawl big guy, call me.’ Steve’s grin got a bit larger, “Whoever she is just mean’s that Bruce got game.”

--

There was only one more room left after Bruce came in, everyone had made bets as to who it could be. Would they be young? Old? Their age? They all had been lucky so far, all of them falling into same age range. However, none of them bet on who came next. After all, the coincidence would be too great.

--

Tony Edwards moved into his new apartment late at night with one suitcase in his hand and an anxious look on his face. The case was full of random things Tony had picked up before he left home, not that he left in too much a hurry but rather he just picked up anything that was lying around in the heat of the moment. Tony looked up at the building while quickly and quietly making his way up the elevator. 

He walked into the circular hall, and the engineer made a face at the hideous couch, beside it was an equally ugly looking lamp, passing by he smelt a whiff of something floral, looking at the couch oddly Tony walked on and stopped in front of the door to his suite. He pulled out his key while nervously looking around and quietly opened the door not daring to disturb any of his new neighbours. 

Tony settled down and unpacked just as quietly as he moved in. Though his unpacking was mainly just pulling out scraps of metal, throwing some clothes over the rail in his closet (since he didn’t have hangers, but it was okay since he also didn’t have many sets of clothing), and then pulling out his wallet, keys and cellphone and placing them on the dining table. Thank god he remembered his toothbrush. 

--

It took a few days for Steve to notice someone lived next door to him. And it took everyone else a week, but honestly, Natasha probably found out around the same time as Steve did. 

--

It had been 2 weeks since everyone had figured out that someone now occupied the last unoccupied room of the fourth floor. They had all met in Bruce’s room trying to figure out who lived there. “But really why don’t you guys just knock?” 

“Bruce! That takes all the fun out of it!” Clint looked mildly offended. 

“I just don’t see why you-” Bruce paused. The rest of them looked towards the scientist, curious. “Do you hear that?” He asked his friends. 

Steve tried listening but didn’t hear anything out of the ordinary. Whispering, he asked Bruce, “What is it?”

Bruce whispered back, “Our neighbour is in the hallway. He just left his apartment.” 

Thor’s eyes lightened up, “Then we shall meet them!” Thor smiled, he ran towards Bruce’s door and pulled it open. The door swung back and hit the wall with a slam, Bruce winced. Thor, however, moved towards the hallway and called for their neighbour. “Neighbour! We wish to meet you!” 

Then as Thor moved out of the way, Steve saw him. 

--

The man was petit but there was clearly some muscle on him, his hair was curly and was a creamy shade of brown. He was tanned but looked a bit pale and his eyes, a similar colour to his hair were blown wide, the expression on his face could only be described as terrified and Steve, Steve just wanted to hold him and never let him go. 

The man let out a surprised squeak and then froze like a deer in headlights. Thor took a couple steps towards the man, but the man seemed to have regained himself and in turn moved back. Thor paused unsurely but Natasha quickly took over.   

“Hello. I’m Natasha Romanoff, I live next door to you, you must be our new neighbour.” She said her tone the softest Steve has ever heard it be. The man bit his lip but his posture seemed to relax as Natasha moved to stand between him and Thor. 

The fidgeted then looked up at her, “I’m Tony Edwards. But you can just call me Tony.” Tony looked down, then tilted his head to look behind Natasha. 

Suddenly Steve felt a bit nervous. Unsure what to say he said the first thing on his mind. “Steve!” He blurted. “I’m uh- Steve. Tony. Yes, I’m Steve.” He could hear Bucky and Clint’s muffled laughter behind him. And could feel the back of his ears turning red.   

Tony gave Steve a soft smile and Steve could feel himself smiling back, in turn, Bucky and Clint completely slipped out of his mind. “Hi Steve,” Tony replied, his gorgeous smile widening a bit more.  

And that’s when Steve knew he was a completely and utterly about to fall in love. 

—

And thats a wrap for now, please send me asks about this ‘cause I’d love to expand and I’d love to hear from you guys; if of course anyone actually reads it. Thx lovelies. <3  

—

@tired-but-here-i-am

[nerddface]

Team (Building)?

Characters: Loki Laufeyson, female!Avenger!reader, Phil & Co. are present

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1620

Notes: ????Two posts in one day???? What is this???? #woah

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“Glad to see we could all make it.”

Y/N settled into an office chair, tapping her fingers on the wood of the conference table before her, stifling a yawn.

“I’m missing an amazing yacht trip for this.” Tony lamented, drumming his fingers on his cheek, chin resting in his palm, propped by the elbow on the table.

Natasha propped her feet up on the edge of Clint’s seat. “I thought you loved us.”

“Where did you get that preposterous idea?”

Steve butted in. “Enough. We didn’t come here to argue.”

“What did we come here to do?” Clint asked, looking up from the arrow he had been examining.

“It’s a team-building thing, featherbrain,” Y/N spoke. “We are, in fact– brace yourself, this may be a shocker–  a team.”

“I have heard of these team-building exercises!” Thor exclaimed, tapping (slamming) the table with his palm. “I have a particular interest in the two-lies-and-a-truth game.”

Clint slid the arrow back into the quiver hanging off the back of his chair. “It’s two truths and a lie, big guy. And that’s for middle schoolers. Besides, what about reigning-champ over here?” He gestured sweepingly to Loki, who raised an eyebrow innocently. “He’s got an eight-legged horse for a kid. Who knows what he’s actually lying about?”

“I strive to live a full life,” Loki explained nonchalantly, and Y/N kicked her chair in a circle.

“I vote no in advance for trust-fall,” Tony called. “I trust none of you.”

“Excuse me,” Y/N returned with a lilt in her voice, placing a hand over her chest and furrowing her brow.

“Except you, doll. But not that much.”

Y/N scoffed and spun the chair again.

“We’re here to have a talk,” Phil announced. “About anything. You need to communicate in order to function properly as a unit. This is a good way to really break the ice and develop some friendship between the lot of you.”

“Oh, the old family dinner dynamic.”

“My team does it just fine.”

“We’re not your team,” Tony pointed out.

“No, they’re normal.” Y/N pointed loosely at the billionaire. “We’re nowhere close to that. Half of us are aliens, or otherwise somehow enhanced or manipulated. Plus I’m pretty sure Clint is actually part bird.”

“Moving on!” Phil barked, not letting the conversation sidetrack before they even started. “I’ve compiled a list of tactical advantages of…”

Y/N tuned him out, propping her chin up on her palm. She got up way too damn early for this.

After a moment of Phil’s voice droning in the background, her chair was tugged gently. She paid no attention to it, and a moment after that, familiar fingers traced up her thigh. It wasn’t until her lover’s hands grasped her knees and pulled her closer, jerking her out of the beginnings of her daydreams, that she focused on him.

Come here, he beckoned silently with one hand. She moved her hand to her jaw, rested her elbow on the table again, and shot him a sideways look, but otherwise didn’t move.

Footage of one of Steve’s latest assignments was playing on the screen at the end of the wall, and a couple members of the team were putting in some comments about it. Loki, despite being with her for a good year, now, still enjoyed toying with her, especially when it irritated the rest of the Avengers, and his hands were moving to her knees and her hips, making a move to pick her up.

She almost protested as he lifted her easily, sliding her into his lap, but since they were towards the back of the table, with only Natasha behind them, at the head, she allowed it. It wasn’t doing any harm, anyways.

Y/N sighed and crossed her legs, using her now unoccupied chair as a footrest. The subject had changed, on to a new assignment that piggybacked the one they’d apparently just been talking about.

“Agent L/N, we may put you on that assignment,” Phil turned his head to her, and she lolled her head to the side.

“‘Agent L/N’? This is an informal meeting. We’re friends, right?”

The older agent pursed his lips. “Yes, but we are still on the premises, and protocol–”

“Oh, come on, mom, loosen up.”

This earned her a warning look, and she laughed.

“See?” Tony challenged from across the table. “I am not the only one who calls you that!” he shoved Bruce, who sat beside him, with his elbow. “Bro, back me up here.”

Bruce, who had up until that moment been enveloped in his own world and not paying attention in the slightest, stuttered, looking as though he’d like it very much if he should simply vanish. “Oh, n– I don’t– um–”

“Lay off, Tony. My poor cinnamon roll is shy, you know that.”

Tony huffed indignantly and leaned back in his chair, glaring at her, though it meant little. “Cinnamon roll?”

“Yeah. Steve’s a Dorito.” She made a triangle with her thumbs and forefingers, and held it up in the direction of the blond, squinting one eye closed. He made a face, and Tony snorted.

“What does that make me?” Clint asked. Y/N turned her gaze to him with a smile.

“You, my bird-brained companion, are a burrito.”

Natasha broke into laughter, and Clint frowned. “What the hell is that even supposed to mean?”

Y/N felt Loki’s lips brush her neck. “You’re a big mess of things and stupid ideas all wrapped up in a soft shell.”

“When have I ever come up with a stupid idea?”

“There was that time when you turned everything green for St. Patrick’s day,” Tony offered. “Including my poor science brother here.” He slung an arm around Bruce, who retreated deeper into himself.

“Or the time you replaced all my guns with nerf weapons,” Y/N added.

“You sicced fangirls on Steve because you wanted to ‘find him a date’,” Natasha put in, using air quotes to emphasize her point. The supersoldier nodded in remembrance, looking vaguely terrified at the memory.

“You also put giant Santa hats on the helicarrier,” Phil joined.

“Actually, that was my idea,” Y/N admitted. “But I think you get the point, Clint.”

By this point, Clint had sunk deep in his chair, his arms crossed over his chest and his shoulders drawn in, an indignant frown on his face. “Yeah,” he murmured. “I get that I have no friends.”

By now, her seat’s mouth had placed a series of lingering kisses up the column of her neck. The hand that wasn’t around her waist and linked with her hand tapped her knee and pinched the sensitive tendons at the top of it. She yelped, kicking her leg up in reflex.

His chuckle sounded through her body as he placed an open-mouthed kiss above her collar, in the curve of her shoulder.

Tony spoke up from down the table. “Come on, reindeer games, can’t you satisfy your guilty pleasures somewhere else?”

Loki gazed coolly at the billionaire from over the curve of his lover’s spine. “You see, Stark, I do not feel guilty about my pleasures.”

Tony deadpanned. He looked up at Y/N after staring at her seat for a couple more seconds, and she shrugged and shook her head lightly with a hopeless look. She felt Loki’s lips curl into a grin as he returned to his ministrations. Phil across from them cleared his throat.

“Anyway, does anyone have any questions or concerns before we move on?”

“I would like to inquire as to whether we will be provided with the excellent catering of Sir Chang,” Thor asked.

“Who?”

“I think he means P.F. Chang’s, mom,” Tony called. This prompted Phil to remind him that he was not mom, and Thor clarified he would still like an answer. Steve butted in to try to shut everyone up, but ended up only exacerbating the problem.

Sometimes I find it difficult to comprehend how they accomplish anything, Loki’s voice sounded in her mind as the men before them conversed. She smiled, huffed laughter.

Same. His mouth traveled a little higher, gravitating to where he knew she was weak, as one of his hands gently caressed her thigh.

Careful, she warned.

What ever do you mean, love?

She wiggled a little. I mean, we’re in a meeting, and oh wow God okay. His teeth had grazed her earlobe, and she shifted in his lap, glaring. What did I tell you?

Did you not hear me when I informed the Iron Idiot that I do not feel guilt in things I find pleasurable?

And putting me at the gun is fun for you?

Loki chuckled softly. Have you met me, darling?

“What are you two up to?” Natasha’s voice sounded in Y/N’s ears. Tony, Thor, Clint, Steve, and Phil paid no attention; now they were arguing over which fast food was better. Bruce had very nearly vanished into his sweater.

“I’m trying to tell him something and as usual he isn’t listening to a damn thing I say,” she responded flatly.

“On the contrary, it is you who clearly does not listen.”

Y/N closed her eyes and let her head fall back with a short groan. “And now I’m wondering why I’m dating him.”

Loki tried to take advantage of the situation, sliding his hand higher and craning his neck to reach her exposed throat. She shoved his face away with her hand and stood, looking at the thin watch on her wrist. “Oh, gee, look at the time! I ought to get up to the gym before dark. Thor, we can get whatever food you want. This has been fun, we should do it again sometime. Goodbye, various food items, bye mom.”

She skipped out, pointedly ignoring the shouting that her team dissolved into. They’d never be like Phil’s team, but families rarely work together so well.

[crystaiskiess]

I’m Dreaming of a Happier Christmas

Part of the Our Photo Album series - does not need to be read in order but is recommended Previous Part Series Masterlist

AO3 Link

Summary: Not the most comfortable Christmas to say the least

Authors Notes: t/w: there is a very homophobic scene in this, if that makes you uncomfortable stop reading at “his mother turned to look at phil with a smile” (dinner scene) and begin again at “they were sitting in the car park” Anyway this is the first of two Christmas stories so I’ll post that later in the month

I am taking requests for this series so if you have any please send them in! As always I strive off of kudos and comments and I love to know what you guys think so please let me know xxxx Enjoy!!!

Also there will be another part in about an hour! I’m so sorry for not posting on here till now it’s been a hectic week!!!

Phil’s stomach was in knots, he wiped his clammy hands on his jeans, it felt strange he had to admit. Today, he was finally meeting Dan’s parents, yet they had been together for four years. He understood the reasoning obviously, but it was strange nevertheless.

He found himself longing for the comfort of Dan’s hand in his, but the dagger lodged in his throat wouldn’t be relieved by his familiar hand, as Dan had dropped it as they approached the door. Looking at Dan, Phil could see he was as nervous, if not more nervous than Phil himself. After so long they could have an entire conversation through their eyes, but even without eye contact Phil could read Dan like a book. His hands quivered slightly as they rang the bell, his eyes darted around as though something would jump out at him, but most noticeable was the way Dan chewed on his lip, a habit he had almost broken until now.

The door opened and Phil was drawn out of his thoughts in a snap, the uneasy feeling creeping up his throat.

Standing in the doorway was an average heighted, older woman. Her brown hair, the exact same shade as Dan’s, was streaked with grey and framed her face in a casual bob.

Phil, watched a smile tug at Dan’s mouth, it looked fake, totally unlike the relaxed gentle smile that Phil loved so dearly. It was lacking dimples, personally Phil’s favourite part of Dan’s smile.

The obvious fakeness of it didn’t appear to bother Dan’s mother as she beamed at them.

“Daniel!” She exclaimed, pulling Dan into a hug, Phil watched awkwardly from the sidelines as Dan patted his mother on the back tensely.

She pulled him back and her eyes swept over to Phil, it felt as though they were boring into him. He felt like squirming beneath her gaze.

“Philip right?” She confirmed, Phil smiled tightly as she patted his arm gently. It was so different to his own family, that he was momentarily taken aback.

He nodded, “Just Phil,” he tried to correct her but Mrs Howell was already speaking again.

“It’s a shame you two haven’t been home in so long,” she was chattering away, clearly talking about Dan and Beatrice, Dan’s twin sister, not Phil.

“Is Beet here?” Dan asked and Mrs Howell rolled her eyes but nodded, ushering them into the house. She gave Phil the air of someone who wouldn’t take no for an answer, and was used to always getting what she wanted, while also trying to hard to seem kind and friendly. It wasn’t really a surprise to him that Dan hadn’t come home for almost five years.

Dan glanced around his family home, unwelcome memories swirling uncomfortably in his stomach and leaving a bad taste in his mouth. He could tell just from the way Phil’s hands were bent into the loops of his jeans that he was feeling tense and probably uncomfortable. It was taking all of Dan’s willpower not to take Phil’s hand in his, just to feel that familiar comfort of their fingers tangled together, but he needed to tell his parents at the same time. He couldn’t stand saying it twice.

His mother was the same as always, trying her hardest to hold the family together despite not being a kind enough person by default to properly achieve it. He tried his hardest to smile at her as though everything was fine, but just being the house made him want to run and leave. He fingers twitched involuntarily out towards Phil, desperate to hold his hand and cling to his usual comfort support.

Instead he watched Phil from a distance as he shifted awkwardly into the house.

He walked quickly over to Beet, automatically drawn to the only sense of comfort that he had left. The comfort he had always clung to in this house, she gently brushed along his middle finger. He smiled slightly, during the pressure of their schooling years, with their parents constantly breathing down their necks, young Beatrice and Dan had decided to make up their own language. Not a speaking language, but a way to speak through movements, and they still remembered it to this day.

A brush along the middle finger meant ‘Are you ok?’, one of the first things they had worked out how to ask.

Gently he poked the tip of her thumb, ‘No’. She frowned gently bumping their hips together to comfort him. With a smile he pulled her into a hug, Phil raised an eyebrow at him and he shook his head slightly. Just enough to let him know that he was okay, and not to worry.

“So Philip,” Dan’s mother turned to him and Phil jumped slightly at being addressed so directly, even after only three minutes of exposure to Dan’s mother Phil had already noticed that she was very direct in her emotions, “Where did you and Dan meet?”

He was a little taken aback by the question, the idea that his boyfriend of four years’ mother didn’t know where they met was enough to momentarily stump him.

When he managed to snap himself out of his shock, he was aware of both Dan, Bea and their mother staring at him strangely.

“E-erm sorry,” he stammered an apology, avoiding Dan’s eye contact he continued, “We met at work, I’m the receptionist at the school Dan works,” he explained.

Dan’s mother sighed happily, ushering them all into the kitchen, “Oh how wonderful! It’s always great to have a friend at work!” She exclaimed and Phil noticed Dan bite down on his lip so hard he might draw blood. He longed to pull him close and plant a kiss to his temple, or at least do anything to stop him from hurting himself, but he couldn’t. He had to admit, it hurt him just as much as it hurt Dan to hear the word friend be used in regards to them, as though the last four years meant nothing. However, it wasn’t as though he could do anything about it, this was Dan’s chance to tell his parents, not Phil’s. So he gritted his teeth and dealt with it.

“Your father will be home soon,” Dan watched as his mother bustled around the kitchen, he had missed her, but not enough to come home. In fact he still wasn’t sure if coming home would be worth it at all.

Beet looked as awkward as he felt, and he wasn’t sure what to do, so he just watched.

His mother turned to Phil, and he inwardly cringed, there was a reason Dan had rarely brought friends home and that was because his parents had a knack for interrogations and lack of social boundaries.

She begun cutting and smiled at him, “Philip, I have organised a room for you, it’s just down the hall from Daniel,” she informed them.

Dan looked nervously at Phil, he smiled tightly, “Thank you,” Phil mumbled. Dan stared at the floor, he and Phil had been living together for three years now and they’d never had to sleep in different beds anywhere they went together. Hopefully they would be able to move together once Dan had told his parents later that night.

It felt weird, the idea of being in the same place as Dan and not be sharing a bed, but he pretended it wasn’t. Dan was planning on telling his parents today anyway, so they could easily change rooms later on Phil reasoned with himself.

Dan’s mother was speaking to him again, “Are you dating anyone Philip?” She asked, as though it was a comfortable, easy question.

The question caught him off guard a little bit, first of all it was so unlike any other adult he’d ever met, nobody ever asked him so plainly about his private life unless they knew him well (see also: his mother), and secondly it wasn’t as though he could say ‘oh yeah your son’.

“Oh… yeah I am,” he mumbled, glancing sideways at Dan he was relieved to see him relatively calm. “They’re amazing, I love them more than anything,” he added and didn’t miss the light blush that crept along Dan’s cheekbones.

Dan’s mother sighed longingly, “How beautiful,” she said with a smile before rounding on Dan, “And what about you Daniel? Did you finally meet a girl?” She asked.

Phil watched as Dan bit down on his lip again and inwardly sighed, “Nope!” Dan replied overly cheerfully, “Still no girlfriend!”

The precise wording that Dan used didn’t slip Phil’s notice, no girlfriend, but maybe a boyfriend Phil couldn’t help but think.

~-~-~

One of the things Dan was dreading happened not too long later, starting with a jangle of keys and a click of the front door.

“Is that you Michael?” His mother called out from where they were all sitting in the lounge, conversation was flowing reasonably easily, but Dan could tell Phil wasn’t quite comfortable. Maybe it was because he could see the differences between ‘Normal Dan’ and ‘With Parents Dan’, which were admittedly very obvious.

“Yes Ella! Can you come and help me with the groceries?” His father replied, the same blonde hair and bushy moustache peering around the corner, “Hello kids!”

His mother rolled her eyes fondly, Dan was tempted to roll his as well, but maybe not as fondly. “I’ll go help,” she told them, standing up with a small groan, “You can stay here if you want!”

She hurried out of the room and Beet and he shared a look, they had learnt from their childhood that ‘you can stay here’ was never truly the case.

Dan indicated for Phil to follow, gently brushing their knuckles together quickly since no parents were in the room, he relished in the happy smile that covered Phil’s face instantaneously. They were, by default, a very touchy couple, to the point where all of their friends called them ‘the lovey doves’, so not being able to hold hands, or play with each other’s hair was strange and abnormal.

“You can stay here means the opposite,” he whispered in explanation, leaning into Phil’s hair gently and savouring in the intimate act he kept having to hold back.

Phil actually suppressed a groan when Dan leaned away, he just wanted two minutes of holding hands. Anything, would be fine really.

Dan’s father smiled at him, “I’m Michael,” he said sticking out his hand.

Phil introduced himself in return, taking the outstretched hand in an attempt not to be awkward.

“It’s great to meet you sir,” he greeted and Dan’s father smiled. He seemed like a quiet spoken man, someone that didn’t voice their opinions too loudly but still expected to be heard regardless. At least, that was the impression Phil got after thirty seconds of meeting, everything else was inferred from the small things Dan had told him over the years.

He could sense this might be an awkward Christmas, and he had never been more right in his life.

~-~-~

Phil raised the camera to his eye and felt his body relax slightly, this was something he could do, photography was calming and familiar.

“Move in a bit Bea,” he indicated for her to lean inwards and she followed his hand, the family smiled. Phil could see the fakeness in Dan’s eyes as he smiled, the tense hardness of his cheeks where there would usually be dimples.

There was a flash as he took the photo, he lowered the camera and passed it to Dan’s mother. She gushed over it and complimented him, he was too busy focusing on the churning of his stomach, Dan was going to tell his family now, and Phil was so scared it would go wrong.

The dinner table was the same as Dan had always remembered, tense and awkward. His father wouldn’t speak, staring at them all in a way that made Dan uncomfortable even now. His mother would attempt to fill the awkward silences with small talk, that none of them actually cared about. Beet wouldn’t speak unless addressed to, as she never knew how to speak to anyone but Dan. Except, this time there was also Phil, staring at his food and avoiding any communication possible.

His mother turned to look at Phil with a smile, “So you said you have a partner Philip?” She prompted and Phil’s head snapped up, Dan stifled a giggle at the familiar awkwardness of his boyfriend.

“Erm uh y-yes,” he mumbled, eyes wide at being spoken to.

His mother smiled and rolled her eyes at Dan fondly, “When will you find someone Daniel?” She sighed and Dan dug his fingernails into his palm under the table, it was now or never.

“I never said I hadn’t found anyone mum,” he responded and took a bite of turkey, it felt rubbery and tasteless, but that had nothing to do with his mother’s cooking.

She furrowed her eyebrows at him, “You said you didn’t have a girlfriend…” she trailed off in confusion and Dan swallowed the dry mouthful.

“Exactly, I don’t have a girlfriend,” he emphasised and it was clear his mother understood exactly what he meant as she inhaled sharply. As per usual, his father said nothing.

“O-okay…” she stammered and Dan continued to eat his meal, despite every mouthful feeling like a chore, “So what’s h-h-his name?” She stumbled over the pronoun and Dan bit down on his lip to ease the pain, it was just as hard as he imagined.

Phil hated watching Dan struggle so much, and this was probably one of the hardest parts of the whole conversation, this was the moment that Dan’s parents found out about them.

He stretched his leg out to link it with Dan’s and cheered in his head at the small smile that quirked at Dan’s mouth.

Dan’s mother was clearly trying very hard, but the idea of this tension was ridiculous to Phil, his parents were so comfortable and happy about it that he had never had to deal with any awkwardness regarding Dan.

“His name is Phil,” Dan responded, his voice clear and calm, Phil stared at his plate as though it could swallow him up as Dan’s mother gasped loudly. He was clutching his cutlery just that little bit too tightly, enough that it was digging into the palm of his hand.

Suddenly Dan’s father spoke up, and the whole conversation went from tense to furious, “Get out,” he hissed, voice laced with venom.

Phil’s head snapped up so quickly it hurt and he was staring into the eyes of a man who looked murderous. He couldn’t look away, it was as though that furious gaze had frozen him in place.

Out of the corner of his eye he could see Dan’s mouth was wide open, “W-what?” Phil stammered, the handle of the knife was beginning to hurt it was pressed so harshly into the flesh of his hand.

“You heard me,” Dan’s father was glaring daggers at Phil, “Get out of my house.” He repeated, Phil’s blood ran cold, he was shaking and he felt ready to pass out.

Both Dan and his mother spoke at the same time, “Dad!” Dan exclaimed at the same time as his mother hissed, “Michael!”

Dan’s father didn’t appear to care, he didn’t look away from Phil, and Phil still couldn’t tear his eyes away from him.

“I want him,” he jabbed his knife in the direction of Phil, “Out of my house now.”

Phil was frozen in shock, he wasn’t sure how to move, what he should do, and he still couldn’t look away from the furious man at the end of the table.

He seemed to be growing more and more angry by the second, and Phil was so terrified he had forgotten how to breathe. His heart was jumping around like a rabbit on steroids, “Why are you still here?” Dan’s father demanded and Phil had to bite back tears, “Get out of my home, get out of my son’s life!”

He felt his legs push back his chair before he could stop himself, this man had some sort of strange persuasion over Phil, the words were stabbing at his throat and rendering him speechless. All he could do was follow, Phil finally understood what Dan meant about the way his father had controlled him through his childhood.

Dan watched in horror as Phil began to push his chair back, up until that point he had been unable to say anything past yelling his father’s name. Now however, as he watched Phil actually begin to leave he was snapped out of his stupor.

“No fucking way!” He yelled, voice loud and angry as he stood up and grabbed slammed his hands down on the table, “Phil you don’t have to leave.”

“Daniel,” his mother shushed him, eyes wide in shock at his sudden outburst.

He shook his head angrily, glaring at his father with all of the anger he had repressed throughout his 29 years of life, “How dare you ask him to leave?” He spat.

“I will not have this in my house!” His father growled back, Dan had to restrain himself from shrinking back into his shell, “I want him out!”

Dan glanced at Phil and saw those beautiful blue eyes wide with fear, it felt as though someone had reached through his chest and crushed his heart, Dan’s family had done that.

Any fear he felt was smothered by Phil, he needed to protect him, “Absolutely not, if Phil’s goes anywhere I’m going with him and I will never come back.”

He watched as his mother sobbed slightly, tugging at her husband’s arm she shook her head hurriedly, “We’re not losing him Michael,” Dan heard her whisper loudly, tears streaming down her face, “Stop this.”

“I don’t want this in my house Ella!” His father retorted, and Dan actually growled, sinking back into his chair.

His father whipped his head back around to stare at him, “What don’t you want Dad?” Dan hissed, “Love? You don’t want love in your household?”

Phil’s hands were shaking, Dan and he had known that the conversation may have been an awkward one but this was so much worse than they’d ever expected.

“Have you… kissed?” Dan’s father said kissed as though it was dirty, Phil felt his skin crawl and he longed to shower and scrub at his skin to remove the awful words.

Dan was livid, Phil could see it in the way his eyes burning, his lip was curled into a sneer, “Yes Dad! We’ve kissed! A lot actually! It’s been four fucking years!”

Phil chanced a glance upwards and saw pure horror cross Dan’s father’s face, “Four years!” He screeched, Phil was crying he realised, not heavily, but soft tears were streaking down his face, wetting his cheeks, “You’ve been keeping this from us for four years,” he continued to spit.

“Do you really wonder why!” Dan was screaming and Phil couldn’t stop shaking, his hands were quivering and he wanted to run far away, but he needed Dan to come with him and he was willing to wait for him. “Look at how you’re treating us!” 

“You deserve to be treated this way, you’re both filthy freaks of nature!” The words hit Phil in the chest like a bullet. Filthy freaks of nature Filthy freaks of nature They continued to stab at him until his lungs were hollow, every breath coming out in ragged gasps. 

He was vaguely aware of a loud slam, but tears were pooling in his vision.Dan didn’t even regret it, he slammed his knife into the table so that it was jammed into the edge and lodged there. He was on his feet, his mother and father stared at him with wide eyes, Phil was crying and Beet was fuming, glaring at their parents like she was trying to curse them. 

“You can insult me,” he hissed at his parents, “You have my whole life! But never,” he ripped the knife out of the table, feeling a small sense of pride at the indent that remained there, that would always remind his parents of what they did to him, “Never, insult Phil, my boyfriend.”It was the first time he’d ever said the words in front of his parents, and the way his father reeled back was as though he had been slapped made him quake with anger, “We’re leaving,” he growled. 

Both his parents flinched as he shoved back his chair, it scratched along the floor so loudly that his mother winced. He marched around the table and his anger evaporated, not fully but enough as he looked at Phil, shaking silently and trying to collect himself. He gently lifted Phil to his feet, wiping the tears off his cheeks he pressed a kiss to Phil’s forehead, ignoring his parents behind them he whispered, “It’s okay, we’re leaving now.”It felt like someone had stabbed him to see Phil this broken up, but he stifled all the horrible emotions churning and he took his boyfriend’s hand. 

Beet stood up, “Can you drop me at the train station?” She asked Dan with a pointed look, he barely nodded but she got the message. “You don’t need to leave Beatrice,” Their father said, his normal stern voice back. However Beet just growled, her eyes flashing with unrelenting anger, “Of course I fucking do! As if I would want to stay here with you.” She marched over to Dan and Phil and they all walked out without a second glance.

~-~-~

They were sitting in the carpark after dropping Beet off when Dan finally broke. The tears streamed down his face and he gasped in pain. “Hey,” Phil shushed him gently, taking his face gently in his hands, Dan leaned into the touch instinctively, “It’s okay now!” 

Dan hiccuped softly, the tears still pouring down his face, Phil leaned their foreheads together and they just sat there. The silence was comfortable but Dan had so much he needed to say.“I’m so sorry,” he whispered when the tears finally slowed to a stop, Phil clucked his tongue, leaning away and brushing a thumb across Dan’s cheekbone. Gently wiping away the tears. 

Dan mapped his face as they lapsed back into their gentle silence, there were still tear streaks down Phil’s cheeks and his eyes were red but he was as beautiful as ever. 

“But he called you a-” Dan begun to say but Phil cut him off with a gentle kiss, it wasn’t long, just a brush of lips to remind each other that they were still here, and everything would be fine.“It doesn’t matter,” Phil assured Dan, staring into those sad, beautiful, brown eyes made him want to start crying again, but he knew that they needed one of them to be strong, “We’ll go to my house for a late Christmas. Bea can come too,” he added and Dan smiled softly, his dimple indenting his cheek. 

Phil pressed a gentle kiss to it, “I love you, and nothing - especially not your family - will ever change that,” Dan was still crying but it was soft and he was smiling, it made Phil’s heart squeeze in a mix of both happiness and sadness. “I love you too,” Dan whispered, brushing Phil’s fringe out of his eyes as though he was a delicate flower.“You’re all the family I need.”

Next Part

[christopher-eccleston-9th]

Put It Back Together

Put It Back Together

Part 1 – The Greatest Longing

Characters: Nine x OFC Mackie (Mackenzie); OC’s Philip, Francois (Frank)

Warnings: Mentions of drug abuse, some explicit language, some angst and a little bit of fluff ♥

Word Count: 2526 words

Author’s Note: Welcome one and all to my first official Doctor Who fic! It’s an OFC slash fic. As always, please leave any feedback! It’s greatly appreciated. Also, please note that this fic has NOT been edited. I will be giving it a once over tomorrow morning... hopefully.

            Today had been spent much like the same as every other these last two years: Mackie woke up, ate, went to work, came home and slept. Repeat. There were the odd days Mackie would occasionally break that routine if only to make room for the one friend she still had. His name was Phil. A tall, gangly chap with a shallow skinny face, blond hair and deep blue eyes. Phil ran a tiny, but thriving, electronics shop just down the street from the bar Mackie worked at. So, the occasional divergence was an acceptable one.

            Mackie was dressed in her usual attire as she strode down Baker Street towards Phil’s shop. She wore a ¾ length grey and white jersey shirt, denim skinny jeans, combat boots and square-framed sunglasses she seldom needed to wear in dreary London. A rare spring sun gave her the opportunity to wear them, which she was rather happy for. And there were few things to look forward to or be happy about in her life. Not since the Doctor had gone.

            She had already been travelling with the Doctor for two years at that point. Two wonderful years. Two years that now seemed like nothing but a dream.

            It was while she was backpacking across Scotland with some friends – both from her homeland of Canada and those native to the United Kingdom – that he first appeared to her. The TARDIS had broken down and there was a chap by the name of Jack Harkness in Glasgow who could help him. In reality, it had been a ruse to see who would be brave enough to take on a man like him; to leave all they had behind and travel with him through time and space. And Mackie – sass and all – was the only person to step up to the plate.

            Two years of friendship, of traveling through time and space and having adventure after adventure of their own, and he left her.

            Still, after all she had gone through, there was a packed bag at the back of her closet for if… for when he came back. Because he would come back… right?

            Tea in hand, Mackenzie – called Mackie by her friends – strode into the shop. In the window hung a ‘CLOSED’ sign. It didn’t apply to her. There was a small jingle from the bell as the door swung open and closed. Behind the checkout counter stood the aforementioned tall gangly man. A broad smile stretched his face, his lips peeling back to show a crooked set of large teeth. “Well, it’s about time you showed up,” he said, his soft English accent filtering through her ears.

Philip rounded the counter in a few long strides and enveloped Mackie in a hug with his long limbs. Her dark auburn hair, which today she wore in a messy bun atop her head, tickled his sparsely bearded chin. “Perhaps I didn’t want to see your old lumpy face,” she quipped, a small smile tugging at the edge of her lips – her Canadian accent differing from his. Her emerald green eyes lit up with happiness while she gazed into her best friend’s eyes, pulling away from his embrace to do so.

He was one of the few reasons she had left to smile.

“This lumpy face is happy to see yours.”

“Warts and all,” she said cheekily. “Right, here’s your cuppa. You ready to motor?” Mackie’s voice reverberated inside the cylindrical walls of her metal travel mug.

Phil nodded as he took a large gulp of the scalding liquid. If the burning bothered him at all he showed no signs of discomfort.

This is how they spent some of their Sunday mornings. Mackie would make them both a cuppa, they’d take a walk through the streets of London while enjoying their often-silent partner (and were content to be as such). Talking wasn’t everything. Both of them knew that. But it wasn’t to say that they never spoke. Silence normally meant that one or the other or perhaps both parties were troubled by something.

All the years that he knew Mackie she had never been this quiet. Ever since the Doctor had gone she had been uncharacteristically silent. She barely spoke of him or about her time with him. There was once a time that he’d could barely get her to shut up about it. Now? Now he couldn’t get a peep out of her; not even in regards to the weather.

It worried him.

Today, unlike any other day, her silence was heavy. It was tense and sad and layered with emotions and sentiments that he was altogether weary of. It didn’t sit well in the pit of his stomach and unsettled him. Silence like this held a meaning. There hadn’t been a silence like this since her father skipped out on them, returning to Vancouver and lived on the streets; snorting coke and shooting up heroin and slowly killing himself. It had taken her months to come out about the problem. The last thing he desired was to see her suffer with the burden that now shouldered here.

Gathering some courage, he finally cleared his throat. “I can practically see the gears working behind your eyes. What’s bothering you?”

Mackie slowed her pace and swallowed hard. Here green orbs widened as if she had suddenly remembered something absolutely horrific – as if she had forgotten why it was she was the way she was in the first place. A pink tongue darted out from between her lips. She slowly exhaled the breath that she had been holding and shook her head. “Nothing, Phil.”

Phil licked at his lower lip and bit it. He contemplated whether or not he was going to push this matter. The last time she kept it all to herself almost cost her his friendship. And though he would do anything to help her he didn’t want to go through it again.

“Well, I think we both know that’s a bunch of bollocks,” he said after a long moment of silence. The duo came upon the River Thames and leaned against the railing. Mackie didn’t answer, her jaw clenched and brow knitted with sadness. “Come on, Mack…” Phil sighed through his nose, looking first at her and then to the murky waters of the river before them. “The last time something like this happened was when Frank left. It took you six months to tell me. Blimey, it almost cost you your sanity and much more before you told me. Don’t…” Phil ran a hand through his short-cropped hair. “Don’t do this again.”

After a few long moments of silence, Mackie spoke. Her eyes were fixed on the waters before her. “Talking about it isn’t going to bring him back,” she said softly. “Just like talking won’t bring Frank,” she spat his name, “back.”

The young man knew exactly who she was talking about. The Doctor. Another sigh escaped him, this time coming from his lips. Once again, he licked and bit his lower lip before talking. “Mackenzie… It’s been two years – ”

“ – To the day – almost the very second,” she spat.

Ignoring this, he continued. “It’s been two years. You’ve got to move on.”

She snorted derisively and bit at the malicious smirk at the tugged at the edge of her lips. “You still know nothing, Phil. Absolutely nothing,” she spat. “I love a madman in a box – someone who I am never gonna see again – and no length of time is going to diminish those feelings. You wouldn’t understand.”

Phil exhaled sharply through his nose and grabbed Mackie by the shoulder, forcing her to face him. “I wouldn’t, would I?” he said firmly; almost angrily. “I’ve spent the better part of two years watching the person I love waste away. She’s carried the weight of the bloody world on her shoulders and thinks every day that no one notices or cares. She barely eats or sleeps or socializes. She’s pushed everyone she cares about away because she’s in a constant state of fear – fear that everyone is gonna leave her like the Doctor did.”

It wasn’t exactly the best time to express his feelings, Phil knew that much. Mack was in a lot of pain and perhaps his admission wouldn’t help anything. However, he refused to stand here and let her dictate what he didn’t and didn’t know. Phil was in full awareness of his emotions, thank you very much. Her face softened some. Her brow relaxed some and the scowled softened into something of a frown. “Two years, Mack… Two years among the many more that I’ve known you and I’m still here. And I swear I’m never gonna leave. You’re daft for ever thinking that I would – ah!” Phil said as she opened her mouth to interrupt him. He silenced her with a long finger pressed to her lips. “Now, I could careless if you don’t feel the same way – this doesn’t change the fact that you’re my friend above all. My best friend. It’s been that way since we were in nappies and I want it to be that way until we’re back in them at a ungodly age and yelling at each other just so we can hear one another from a whole two feet away.”

“But it doesn’t…” Mackie started.

“You’re right. It doesn’t change the fact that you miss him or that you love him,” Phil continued, still holding her by her bony shoulders. “But you can’t keep waiting for something that may never happen. And if you are – knowing you, your stubbornness knows no bounds – then you need to talk about it. You can’t be keeping all this rubbish up here,” he gently poked her forehead, “forever. You’ve got to start taking care of yourself, too.”

Mackie bit her lower lip. She nodded. He was right, of course, as always.

Phil smiled gently at her and pulled her in for a hug. “Right… I gotcha,” he said as her chin began to tremble. “It’s all right, Mack… It’s all right.”

And damn him for being right. Damn him for always being right. Damn him for always being there for her, always supporting her and fixing her when she could no longer find the way to pick up the pieces of her broken soul. Without him she would be able to sulk and brood and be sad in peace.

The tears came unbidden to her eyes as her anger subsided. Mackie’s long slender fingers grabbed at Phil’s jumper for purchase. A gentle sob escaped her lips. And another. And another after that until her tears poured freely from her. Phil’s skinny arms held her fast. He planted a kiss atop her head. His heart broke as she finally let two years worth of grief and suffering pour from her soul. And he was begrudgingly glad he was the one who would help pick up the pieces… again. Because the Doctor surely wasn’t.

After what felt like an eternity Mackie’s breathing was calm. She sniffled a few times here and there but she was no longer crying. He slung his arm around her shoulder and held her close. “How about we go back to my flat and watch Game of Thrones? We’ll order some take away and have a beer or two. Perhaps pick up a twofer –”

“Two-four,” Mackie corrected him with a chuckle.

“Right. That. Damn you and you Canadians with your strange lingo.”

His comment earned him a smile. “It makes sense – a case has twenty-four beers. Two-four. At least we don’t drink our beer piss-warm,” she jabbed back, poking him in the side.

He jumped, dancing away from her fingers. “Oi! That’s not nice.”

Mackie crinkled her nose. “Well, I’m not a very noice pursun!” she mocked his accent.

“I do not sound like that!”

“Oi do not soond loike tha’!”

The duo laughed all the way back to his flat. And the day was indeed spent watching the gruesome TV show. They shared cold beers and ate pizza and all sorts of sweets they bought from the corner store. The worries that plagued Mackie’s mind slowly made themselves scarce and she was able to smile a real smile. She was able to laugh and enjoy the time she spent with Phil.

When he was finally content that she would be okay, Mack was allowed to go home. She slipped on her jacket and jumped into her boots. The embraced at the door and she walked happily through the darkened streets of London. Perhaps not the best idea but she could care less now. The Doctor was far from her mind and the day spent with Phil in merriment was at the forefront.

A smile split her face as she recalled the day. True to his word, they ordered take-away and bought a two-four of beer. They had at least half of the case each, spreading their drinks slowly throughout most of the day and well into the night. They quoted nearly each line with uncanny accuracy and debated various theories and their plausibility. All in all, it had been a good day. Fantastic, even.

Fantastic.

The word slowed her steps. And the man she swore she had all but forgotten mere minutes before was now at the front of her mind.

It’s strange how something as simple as a word can send your life hurtling in a direction you thought were heading away from. Sounds, people, words, places: They can ruin you if you aren’t careful. And the Doctor? The Doctor’s catchphrase was the fickle thing that brought the pain rushing back.

The smile slowly left her face and her body grew numb.

The rest of the walk home was spent remembering all the things she would never have again. She would never see his smile, hear his voice, smell his distinct scent or go on adventures together. She would never read books in the ever-growing library of his or spend lazy days in Scotland exploring the countryside in a time before Man. Noting would be the same. Never again.

Mackie fumbled with her keys into the lock of her flat, numb to the rest of the world. The silence that engulfed her was deafening.

But then… Then there came a sound. It was a soft wheezing that slowly and steadily grew louder. A gentle breeze rustled her hair. Mack stood up straighter. The sound beckoned her to turn around and face what she knew would be there. With a thud and a clunk, the wheezing stopped. And there it was: The blue police box. The TARDIS. Something she believed she would never see again was suddenly there. It was like it had never left.

There came a gentle creak as the TARDIS’s door opened. Out stepped a tall man. His ears were large and floppy. His dark hair was closely cropped to his head and a toothy smile lit up his face. He wore his unmistakeable black leather jacket and jeans, his purple jumper and black Doc Martens.

Mackie looked as if she saw a ghost - but he seemed to take no note. “Well,” he said stepping from the doorway of the TARDIS. “Are you ready to go, Mac and Cheese?”

Well, what do you think? Do you want to be tagged? Please leave me an ask with your feedback, comments and whether you’d like to be tagged in the next part.

~nine ♥

READ PART 2 HERE

tag forever: @badwolfinthetxrdis

[innittowinit]

Abandoned amusement parks are the best place for young children (chapter 6)

Fic summary: 

Techno, Tommy, Wilbur and Phil have been hanging out at the abandoned amusement park in the woods since they moved in. Techno likes knowing he's definitely alone with his brothers Tommy likes climbing on the old rides Wilbur likes having a place to play his music Phil likes spending time with his younger brothers 

That is, until a group of brothers calling themselves the 'dream team' move in down the road. Will the sleepy boys give in and share the park or will they succeed in scaring the new kids off?

Chapter summary: 

 The dream team attacks Wilbur's asleep Phil's busy Tommy-proofing the park

Chapter Word count: 2363

AO3

Fuck…

It was so hot, so humid, that Techno could feel himself swaying where he was standing; his signature red jacket had been tossed aside in a feeble attempt to cool down for just a minute. With Wilbur having fallen asleep on top of  the ticket booth roof and Phil trying to clean out some of the glass and brambles from one of the old gift shops before they let Tommy play in it -the white house needed to be safe after all- Techno was left to watch over Tommy on his own. Having taken on board everything Phil said to them, he managed to keep an eye on his brother the entire time.

He even climbed up a bit with him, making sure not to go too high and set a bad example, he was still a kid though and it was fun to mess around. He’d keep Tommy safe and have fun doing it, he wouldn’t let Tommy get board enough to warrant him wanting to venture higher.

“What are the kids in your class like then? They nice to you Toms?” Techno already knew the answer, Tommy could be a bit obnoxious at times but as far as kids would see it, he was miles more ‘normal’ than Techno and Wilbur had been. They probably loved him, that was a nice thought. He loved him too.

As they sat, feet dangling off a track, that wasn’t too high, as Techno had checked many many times, and was very sturdy, Tommy gave an excited nod. That was good news. “Love ‘em, we’re all super good friends! Tubbos my best friend though, he’s way way better than the others” he nodded, as if it was a well known fact that Tubbo was objectively the best, which made Techno chuckle.

Only now was he realising that he never really spoke to Tommy like this anymore, it was nice. Wilbur was always with him, he needed Wilbur nearby to be able to be calm enough to talk, so it was rare to find a conversation without the brunette at all. At times, he found himself wishing he could be more confident with his verbal abilities, it would be amazing to be like a character from a movie, to be able to just go out and maybe order himself a coffee, talk to a stranger as he waited for the bus. So often he found himself fantasizing about the most mundane things for most people, but really he did crave them a lot. He was working incredibly hard in his speech therapy, there had been so many times where he felt like just giving up, like maybe he could get away with not talking for the rest of his life, but then he’d hear how assertively Wilbur could tell their doctor that he was getting overwhelmed and needed a break and.. It just reminded him of how badly he needed to crack this.

He couldn’t stay silent forever, not when he wanted to talk so bad. Even now, as he sat with his little brother, he was reminded of how badly he needed to get his issues sorted out. It was grim to think about but he knew that if he didn’t have full confirmation Wilbur was close, he wouldn’t be able to communicate with Tommy.

“Don’t tell the others I’m getting soft but I really love you, you know that right Toms?”

Tommy giggled and then he nodded. Ah, confident as ever. Techno was incredibly grateful that Tommy hadn’t turned out like him or Wilbur. It was such a relief, at first he had been so sure that the social issues were hereditary, why else would Wilbur struggle too? Recently though, he had figured out that it likely was a mix between his adhd, which was genetics, and the lack of attention he and Wil had gotten while they were little. With Two parents who were constantly out working, babysitters were usually the only people they saw in the day, their parents leaving before they had woken up and arriving back home after they had been put back to bed, it was a bad cycle of them only getting to see them a few minutes a day at most.  

He wasn’t a psychologist, if he was he probably could have started talking by now, but he guessed Wilbur had likely clutched onto one of the only consistent things, that being him, and he had developed a fear of talking. Out of fear of getting close to temporary people? Out of spite? He didn’t know.

What he did know though, was that perhaps through the constant praise and adoration he and his brothers had always given Tommy, they’d somehow prevented him from turning out like them.

Tommy could be happy, he didn’t need to fear random things.

Techno was snapped out of his thoughts by the sound of someone throwing fun-snaps along the entrance to L’manburg. Fucking Dream Team, why couldn’t they leave them alone? And what was best was that the only people available to confront them were Tommy or Techno, a seven year old or a mute.

Nudging Tommy, he glanced towards the entrance knowingly, Wilbur was a lot better at reading him but Tommy and Phil were pretty decent too. After a couple knowing glances at each other, seemingly an entire silent conversation taking place, the two brothers started to climb down the coaster and back to safety. Techno would have been happy enough to just hide and wait for Wilbur to wake up or maybe Phil to come out, he could definitely take any one of them in a fight but he didn’t want to.

What he did want was for Wilbur to wake up and come do the talking because although he loved Tommy, he didn’t want to be represented by him.

He just couldn’t get that though; the second Tommy’s feet touched the floor he dashed into the centre of the entrance way, causing Techno to dash out of him, Dream visible despite the fact that he was hiding behind a bush. Huh. The idiot must have ran out of Fun snaps since he wasn’t throwing any more.

“This is war! It’s war! Your tyranny over L’manburg cannot last forever, sleepy boys!”

Dream stood up quickly, his green hoodie tied around his shoulders as he stood in a white tshirt and grey basketball shorts. As the blonde raised his crossbow, pointed directly at Tommy, Techno couldn’t help but wonder just how he was planning to aim through the small eye holes in that mask.

“You’re dead! You hear me! We’ll win this war.”

And with that he fired two shots, the foam bullets bouncing off of himself and Tommy pathetically as they watched in confusion. What was his problem? Seemingly, Tommy had been shot on the cheek, the boy was rubbing it with small tears in his eyes. Being hit with something, even if it was a toy bullet, must still be a shock when it hits you directly in the face.

Techno wanted to comfort him, but he couldn’t, not when Dream was standing mere feet away. Instead he opted to run his thumb over Tommy’s cheek then taking his hand as a sign he understood that he wasn’t happy - he didn’t know why or how but holding his brother’s hand’s hand started to be the thing guaranteed to let them know he cared when he couldn’t talk. It was dumb but at least he had a way to communicate it now.

“NOW!”

Right as he was distracted, he heard Dream yell out, causing him to snap back to reality, standing in front of Tommy protectively, only to realise Sapnap and George were scuttling in from a hole in the wall. Techno wanted to yell out, he wanted Phil to come, he felt scared and overwhelmed, logically he could take any of these boys physically but he was scared. This was new to him, they were new people, and he had someone to protect!

It wouldn’t be so bad if Wilbur was awake.

Wilbur could yell and get Phil to come and Phil would do something.

The two boys were charging towards them now, Dream still had that stupid toy crossbow pointed at them too. God why were they so awful?!

“Give it up Techno!” Sapnap yelled, waving a toy sword, it looked like it was made of wood. He wasn’t holding it right, Techno had noted to himself, if he were to try and hit someone with that he wouldn’t get much force. The other boy, George -He only remembered his name because that was the one Wilbur hurt- was carrying a wooden axe, it didn’t look sharp and the handle was painted in a way that made it clear it was also from a toy set, probably the same set that the sword was from.  

That made it all the more clear that they were bad kids. They wanted to hurt them.

He repositioned himself in front of Tommy as the boys drew closer.

Sapnap had tried to hit him first, he was able to block that with his arm, then came George with his axe. The boy jumped up and swung as he came down, even though it was blunt, he had still been hit hard with it and it fucking ached.

Techno didn’t want to get violent but he would protect Tommy no matter what, he knew Phil said no more fights but as he saw Sapnap swing the sword, the wooden blade brushing past Tommy forcefully and leaving a splinter in his arm, he couldn’t hold back his anger. He gently turned Tommy around, nodding towards the ticket booth, before turning back to the two boys in front of him, shaking his head as if to tell them not to even think about going near him.

Techno had faith in Tommy, he knew he’d be able to get Wilbur, that’s why he had to be quick here. In all honesty, he didn’t care about George, he hadn’t hurt Tommy, but Sapnap had and so he felt no shame as he pushed him hard, letting him bounce on the sandy dirt of the warm summer’s day. He didn’t want to start an actual fight, Phil would kill him if he actually punched someone but pushing wasn’t that bad.

“Okayyy Okay kids”

ThankGod,ThankGod,ThankGod

He heard Phil’s voice as he jogged over to Techno, Sapnap and George; by now Dream was standing in the open, by the entrance to L’manburg, as if waiting for his brother’s to finish up their game since his part was over. Techno hated that they seemed to think of this as a joke. They didn’t need L’manburg, they just didn’t like that they couldn’t have it. In his opinion, they were just spoiled rotten, why was their discomfort a source of their amusement?

No matter how he thought of it, Techno couldn’t understand their thought process. Even though he had already pushed Sapnap over, Techno was still boiling over with anger, strong tension dripping from any motion he made.

“Boys get up” Phil sighed as he helped Sapnap off the ground, as well as George who had got down to make sure he was okay. “Techno we don’t push people..Okay I’m sorry about him, you head back home now”

The blonde ushered the boys out of the park as fast as he could, trying to be polite all the way, even though they had been nothing but rude to them.

…

Everything was silent for a minute.

“Techno-Blade Reid, How many times do I have to tell you violence isn’t okay?”

Okay, he used his full name, fuck shit. Phil rarely got this mad but it was obvious Techno had messed up. He hated making Phil mad, he never wanted to yell back, it always just made him disappointed in himself. Everybody knew that Phil was a nice guy and to be the one that forces him to lose composure? It felt horrible.

“Phil I-”

“No no! Listen for a minute okay? How hard actually is it to just talk? Why couldn’t you just call out to me? You know I would have got rid of them for you! Tommy said you had a sword fight, Techno, a sword fight! Did you even realise that Tommy got a splinter? What if that gets infected?”

Techno felt simultaneously that his heart had been stepped on and that he wanted to puke. It hurt, so, so bad, to hear his brother say these things. With the once comforting summer heat choking him up and threatening tears, Techno crossed his arms against his chest, walking directly to Wilbur.

Wilbur never would have said something like that, not even out of anger.

“Phil, I wanted to… You think I didn't realise Tommy got hurt? Why else would I have shoved him?! They attacked us!” He had to stop for a moment, getting a bit choked up, he had been so relieved to hear Phil’s voice, he really hadn’t expected this.

“No, fuck, Tech’ I didn’t mean that… I don't know why I said it. I promise I didn’t mean it”

Phil’s face had contorted slightly, he looked pained and guilty. Techno was well aware that he had just been frustrated and went for the easiest jab possible, he just hadn’t been expecting it.

No matter how much he told himself that Phil didn’t actually think any of that, no matter how much he told himself that his brother still loved him despite his speech issues, he still couldn’t help but find himself being hurt.

He knew what Phil said hadn’t been on purpose but it still stung.

“Take Tommy home and get his splinter out, me and Wil are gonna stay back here for a bit” Voice weak and mellow, he pushed the words out as if it was a physical struggle to talk right now.

He heard Phil sigh, the one he did when something was really hard. “Okay, I love you Techno, and you Wilbur.”

Techno nodded “I love you too.. I just need to be alone for a minute”

[nerddface-has-moved]

Team (Building?)

Characters: Loki Laufeyson, female!Avenger!reader, Phil & Co. are present

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1621

Notes: ????Two posts in one day???? What is this???? #woah

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“Glad to see we could all make it.”

Y/N settled into an office chair, tapping her fingers on the wood of the conference table before her, stifling a yawn.

“I’m missing an amazing yacht trip for this.” Tony lamented, drumming his fingers on his cheek, chin resting in his palm, propped by the elbow on the table.

Natasha propped her feet up on the edge of Clint’s seat. “I thought you loved us.”

“Where did you get that preposterous idea?”

Steve butted in. “Enough. We didn’t come here to argue.”

“What did we come here to do?” Clint asked, looking up from the arrow he had been examining.

“It’s a team-building thing, featherbrain,” Y/N spoke. “We are, in fact– brace yourself, this may be a shocker–  a team.”

“I have heard of these team-building exercises!” Thor exclaimed, tapping (slamming) the table with his palm. “I have a particular interest in the two-lies-and-a-truth game.”

Clint slid the arrow back into the quiver hanging off the back of his chair. “It’s two truths and a lie, big guy. And that’s for middle schoolers. Besides, what about reigning-champ over here?” He gestured sweepingly to Loki, who raised an eyebrow innocently. “He’s got an eight-legged horse for a kid. Who knows what he’s actually lying about?”

“I strive to live a full life,” Loki explained nonchalantly, and Y/N kicked her chair in a circle absentmindedly.

“I vote no in advance for trust-fall,” Tony called. “I trust none of you.”

“Excuse me,” Y/N returned with a lilt in her voice, placing a hand over her chest and furrowing her brow.

“Except you, doll. But not that much.”

Y/N scoffed and spun the chair again.

“We’re here to have a talk,” Phil announced. “About anything. You need to communicate in order to function properly as a unit. This is a good way to really break the ice and develop some friendship between the lot of you.”

“Oh, the old family dinner dynamic.”

“My team does it just fine.”

“We’re not your team,” Tony pointed out.

“No, they’re normal.” Y/N pointed loosely at the billionaire. “We’re nowhere close to that. Half of us are aliens, or otherwise somehow enhanced or manipulated. Plus I’m pretty sure Clint is actually part bird.”

“Moving on!” Phil barked, not letting the conversation sidetrack before they even started. “I’ve compiled a list of tactical advantages of…”

Y/N tuned him out, propping her chin up on her palm. She got up way too damn early for this.

After a moment of Phil’s voice droning in the background, her chair was tugged gently. She paid no attention to it, and a moment after that, familiar fingers traced up her thigh. It wasn’t until her lover’s hands grasped her knees and pulled her closer, jerking her out of the beginnings of her daydreams, that she focused on him.

Come here, he beckoned silently with one hand. She moved her hand to her jaw, rested her elbow on the table again, and shot him a sideways look, but otherwise didn’t move.

Footage of one of Steve’s latest assignments was playing on the screen at the end of the wall, and a couple members of the team were putting in some comments about it. Loki, despite being with her for a good year, now, still enjoyed toying with her, especially when it irritated the rest of the Avengers, and his hands were moving to her knees and her hips, making a move to pick her up.

She almost protested as he lifted her easily, sliding her into his lap, but since they were towards the back of the table, with only Natasha behind them, at the head, she allowed it. It wasn’t doing any harm, anyways.

Y/N sighed and crossed her legs, using her now unoccupied chair as a footrest. The subject had changed, on to a new assignment that piggybacked the one they’d apparently just been talking about.

“Agent L/N, we may put you on that assignment,” Phil turned his head to her, and she lolled her head to the side.

“‘Agent L/N’? This is an informal meeting. We’re friends, right?”

The older agent pursed his lips. “Yes, but we are still on the premises, and protocol–”

“Oh, come on, mom, loosen up.”

This earned her a warning look, and she laughed.

“See?” Tony challenged from across the table. “I am not the only one who calls you that!” he shoved Bruce, who sat beside him, with his elbow. “Bro, back me up here.”

Bruce, who had up until that moment been enveloped in his own world and not paying attention in the slightest, stuttered, looking as though he’d like it very much if he should simply vanish. “Oh, n– I don’t– um–”

“Lay off, Tony. My poor cinnamon roll is shy, you know that.”

Tony huffed indignantly and leaned back in his chair, glaring at her, though it meant little. “Cinnamon roll?”

“Yeah. Steve’s a Dorito.” She made a triangle with her thumbs and forefingers, and held it up in the direction of the blond, squinting one eye closed. He made a face, and Tony snorted.

“What does that make me?” Clint asked. Y/N turned her gaze to him with a smile.

“You, my bird-brained companion, are a burrito.”

Natasha broke into laughter, and Clint frowned. “What the hell is that even supposed to mean?”

Y/N felt Loki’s lips brush her neck. “You’re a big mess of things and stupid ideas all wrapped up in a soft shell.”

“When have I ever come up with a stupid idea?”

“There was that time when you turned everything green for St. Patrick’s day,” Tony offered. “Including my poor science brother here.” He slung an arm around Bruce, who retreated deeper into himself.

“Or the time you replaced all my guns with nerf weapons,” Y/N added.

“You sicced fangirls on Steve because you wanted to ‘find him a date’,” Natasha put in, using air quotes to emphasize her point. The supersoldier nodded in remembrance, looking vaguely terrified at the memory.

“You also put giant Santa hats on the helicarrier,” Phil joined.

“Actually, that was my idea,” Y/N admitted. “But I think you get the point, Clint.”

By this point, Clint had sunk deep in his chair, his arms crossed over his chest and his shoulders drawn in, an indignant frown on his face. “Yeah,” he murmured. “I get that I have no friends.”

By now, her seat’s mouth had placed a series of lingering kisses up the column of her neck. The hand that wasn’t around her waist and linked with her hand tapped her knee and pinched the sensitive tendons at the top of it. She yelped, kicking her leg up in reflex.

His chuckle sounded through her body as he placed an open-mouthed kiss above her collar, in the curve of her shoulder.

Tony spoke up from down the table. “Come on, reindeer games, can’t you satisfy your guilty pleasures somewhere else?”

Loki gazed coolly at the billionaire from over the curve of his lover’s spine. “You see, Stark, I do not feel guilty about my pleasures.”

Tony deadpanned. He looked up at Y/N after staring at her seat for a couple more seconds, and she shrugged and shook her head lightly with a hopeless look. She felt Loki’s lips curl into a grin as he returned to his ministrations. Phil across from them cleared his throat.

“Anyway, does anyone have any questions or concerns before we move on?”

“I would like to inquire as to whether we will be provided with the excellent catering of Sir Chang,” Thor asked.

“Who?”

“I think he means P.F. Chang’s, mom,” Tony called. This prompted Phil to remind him that he was not mom, and Thor clarified he would still like an answer. Steve butted in to try to shut everyone up, but ended up only exacerbating the problem.

Sometimes I find it difficult to comprehend how they accomplish anything, Loki’s voice sounded in her mind as the men before them conversed. She smiled, huffed laughter.

Same. His mouth traveled a little higher, gravitating to where he knew she was weak, as one of his hands gently caressed her thigh.

Careful, she warned.

What ever do you mean, love?

She wiggled a little. I mean, we’re in a meeting, and oh wow God okay. His teeth had grazed her earlobe, and she shifted in his lap, glaring. What did I tell you?

Did you not hear me when I informed the Iron Idiot that I do not feel guilt in things I find pleasurable?

And putting me at the gun is fun for you?

Loki chuckled softly. Have you met me, darling?

“What are you two up to?” Natasha’s voice sounded in Y/N’s ears. Tony, Thor, Clint, Steve, and Phil paid no attention; now they were arguing over which fast food was better. Bruce had very nearly vanished into his sweater.

“I’m trying to tell him something and as usual he isn’t listening to a damn thing I say,” she responded flatly.

“On the contrary, it is you who clearly does not listen.”

Y/N closed her eyes and let her head fall back with a short groan. “And now I’m wondering why I’m dating him.”

Loki tried to take advantage of the situation, sliding his hand higher and craning his neck to reach her exposed throat. She shoved his face away with her hand and stood, looking at the thin watch on her wrist. “Oh, gee, look at the time! I ought to get up to the gym before dark. Thor, we can get whatever food you want. This has been fun, we should do it again sometime. Goodbye, various food items, bye mom.”

She skipped out, pointedly ignoring the shouting that her team dissolved into. They’d never be like Phil’s team, but families rarely work together so well.

[gokinjeespot]

off the rack #1159

Monday, April 17, 2017

 I'm back. Missed posting last week while I was vacationing in Cuba. It was a nice break to be totally unconnected. I managed to read two week's worth of comic books for today's deadline so this will be longer than usual.

 Weapon X #1 - Greg Pak (writer) Greg Land (pencils) Jay Leisten (inks) Frank D'Armata (colours) VC's Joe Caramagna (letters). That was a very promising start. This new mutant team book opens with Old Man Logan chillaxin' in the wilds of Washington state and ends with him teaming up with Sabretooth. The age old enemies must work together to fight a common enemy. I look forward to seeing how they hook up with the other three mutants featured on the credits page.

 Superman #20 - Patrick Gleason & Peter J. Tomasi (writers) Patrick Gleason (pencils) Mick Gray (inks) John Kalisz (colours) Rob Leigh (letters). Venom was all over Marvel variant covers recently but I didn't expect to see him in a DC comic book. Part one of "Black Dawn" is a World's Finest team-up that has Batman visiting the Superman family on their farm. Seems the neighbours are not what they seem. It's stories like these that make me appreciate the biweekly release schedule.

 Godshaper #1 - Simon Spurrier (writer) Jonas Goonface (artist) Colin Bell (letters). This is the story of Ennay, the godshaper. He travels around reshaping gods for people in a weird new world where personal gods make life easier. See, natural science doesn't work in this world so gods are what helps people live. I like Ennay. He's a hustler with a conscience who is just trying to get by

and not a con man. Jonas's art is vibrant and colourful and Ennay's little god sidekick Bud is cute.

 Deadpool vs. Punisher #1 - Fred Van Lente (writer) Pere Perez (art) Ruth Redmond (colours) VC's Joe Sabino (letters). Well, that's one way to start a feud. Frank hurts Wade's accountant and the battle is on. I know that neither killer will win this fight but I might read it to see how they settle the feud.

 Action Comics #977 - Dan Jurgens (writer) Ian Churchill (art) Hi-Fi (colours) Rob Leigh (letters). Part one of "The New World" starts off with a rehash of Superman's origin story going right back to when his parents put him into a rocket ship to Earth just before the planet Krypton explodes and Ma and Pa Kent finding baby Kal-El on their farm in Smallville. I found the retelling tedious but there are a few pages peppered in showing a mysterious new super villain that almost made up for that feeling of reading a rerun. This new villain will keep me coming back for more.

 Riverdale #1 - This new Archie publication is based on the new "hit" TV series. I have not seen the show but I have a long time love of these characters, especially for a certain blonde girl next door. There are two short stories. The first by Will Ewing (writer) Joe Eisma (art) Andre Szymanowicz (colours) Janice Chiang (letters) features Archie going through the varsity football team's hazing rituals. I am impressed that Will made me like this version of the redheaded teenager. The second story by Michael Grassi (writer) Joe Eisma (art) Andre Szymanowicz (colours) John Workman (letters) features my gal Betty Cooper as she endures hazing by Cheryl Blossom, the wicked witch captain of the cheerleading squad. This book made me want to tune into the show now.

 X-Men Blue #1 - Cullen Bunn (writer) Jorge Molina & Matteo Buffagni (art) Matt Milla (colours) VC's Joe Caramagna (letters). This is the original young X-Men team with Jean Grey/Marvel Girl as leader. It reads like a straight up super hero comic book with Marvel Girl, Cyclops, Angel (with flaming wings, when did that happen?), Beast and Iceman fighting Black Tom Cassidy and Juggernaut on a luxury yacht. Not very interesting until the surprise twist at the end. The twist bothered me more than intrigued me because the character is also in other X-books and I'm wondering are they good or bad in this one? The back-up story looks like it features Wolverine but this guy is a blonde. I liked the art throughout, especially the cover by Art Adams but my opinion is that these kids should be in their own little world to make it interesting for me and that isn't this.

 Hal Jordan and the Green Lantern Corps #18 - Robert Venditti (writer) V Ken Marion (pencils) Dexter Vines (inks) Dinei Ribeiro (colours) Dave Sharpe (letters). The Green and Yellow Lantern Corps working together would be like the FBI and the CIA working together. Things are going to get testy at times. Having Guy and Arkillo make peace after almost killing each other in a slugfest is hokey but it kind of works for this comic book. This is a good issue to jump in on as it starts the new story "The Prism of Time". I don't know how long I will stick with this story as it involves time travel. I know because the surprise guest star on the last page gives it away.

 American Gods #2 - Neil Gaiman (writer) P. Craig Russell (script & layouts) Scott Hampton (art) Rick Parker (letters). I have a mild obsession with time. I like to know how long something lasts. I put a date label on Bic pens to see how long it takes for the ink to run out. We rarely lost one at the Snail and one pen would last just over a year. A can of my shaving gel runs out after just over a month. The number 44 is bad luck in Chinese culture so I wear an analogue watch rather than a digital. It always seemed that whenever I looked at the time on a digital it was 44 minutes after the hour and I would get anxious. I kid you not. There's an incident in this issue that relates to a certain time and now that I am aware of it I am going to see if it happens in real life. This is the kind of stuff that makes reading comic books a lot of fun for me. Seeing the incident unfold in three panels made the impact on me even bigger than just reading about it in a novel.

 Jessica Jones #7 - Brian Michael Bendis (writer) Michael Gaydos (art) Matt Hollingsworth (colours) VC's Cory Petit (letters). This issue starts and ends with Maria Hill and leads to a new case for Jessica. There's a touching scene with Jessica, Luke and their daughter Danielle but not a resolution to their damaged relationship. I really hope Luke forgives Jessica.

 Batman #20 - Tom King (writer) David Finch (pencils) Danny Miki & Trevor Scott (inks) Jordie Bellaire (colours) Deron Bennett (letters). The finale to "I Am Bane" was meh. It's a fight between hero and villain that I've witnessed many, many times. This one is just brute force versus brute force and how Batman puts down Bane (because we all know that's what will happen) was very mundane. I hope the next story ends in a more interesting way.

 Rat Queens #2 - Kurtis J. Wiebe (writer) Owen Gieni (art) Ryan Ferrier (letters). The main story has the Queens landing the demon Canada goose to tie up another quest. The back-up story by Patrick Rothfuss (writer) Nate Taylor (art) Ryan Ferrier (letters) is a nifty little campfire story that was very clever. Fooled me.

 Guardians of the Galaxy #19 - Brian Michael Bendis (writer) Valerio Schiti (art) Richard Isanove (colours) VC's Cory Petit (letters). This issue is "Bendis' big-time bye-bye blowout!" and it is an artists lover's dream. The guest artists here are Phil Noto, Andrea Sorrentino, Ed McGuinness & Mark Morales, Arthur Adams, Kevin Maguire, Mark Bagley & Andrew Hennessy, Sara Pichelli and Filipe Andrade. It's basically a big fight between the team, a few of their friends and Thanos. My one complaint is that Gamora did not act like I thought she should but it was an expedient reaction to seeing the Mad Titan in that situation. I loved Brian's run on this book so writer Gerry Duggan has a hard act to follow.

 Wonder Woman #20 - Greg Rucka (writer) Bilquis Evely (art) Romulo Fajardo Jr. (colours) Jodi Wynne (letters). Veronica Cale has exhausted all medical means for getting her daughter Izzy back from the clutches of Phobos and Deimos so it's time for the mystical option. I like Greg's incarnation of Circe. She can give Loki a run for his money.

 Paper Girls #13 - Brian K. Vaughn (writer) Cliff Chiang (art) Matthew Wilson (colours) Jared K. Fletcher (letters). Time travel makes my head hurt but I have an emotional stake in these girls now and want to know what happens to them.

 Champions #7 - Mark Waid (writer) Humberto Ramos (pencils) Victor Olazaba (inks) Edgar Delgado (colours) VC's Clayton Cowles (letters). That's twice that the team has tussled with the Freelancers and the super villains have given up too easily. There's a good reason for that other than because they're cowards and bullies. There's more than one way to hurt the good guys besides beating them up. Time to call in Matt Murdock.

 Kingpin #3 - Matthew Rosenberg (writer) Marc Laming (layouts) Ben Torres (art) Jordan Boyd (colours) VC's Travis Lanham (letters). Sarah the biographer gets chummy with Wilson Fisk which leads Sarah the reporter into very deep trouble with Tombstone. Can Wilson protect her from harm? I like this portrayal of the Kingpin.

 Savage Things #2 - Justin Jordan (writer) Ibrahim Moustafa (art) Jordan Boyd (colours) Josh Reed (letters). Ruthless terrorists who have no qualms about killing women and children make for some very nasty bad guys. It's interesting that the good guy Abel trained with these same men. I am anticipating the much larger threat that Cain has planned.

 All-New Wolverine #19 - Tom Taylor (writer) Leonard Kirk (pencils) Cory Hamscher (inks) Michael Garland (colours) VC's Cory Petit (letters). The 3-part "Immune" starts here. Laura and Gabby take down a human trafficker while an alien craft crashed on Roosevelt Island, New York. That crash has consequences for Laura. I am waiting to find out what the connection between the alien and Laura is. I really like Gabby and I hope she plays a bigger role in this book.

 Red Team: Double Tap, Center Mass #6 - Garth Ennis(writer) Craig Cermak (art) Vinicius Andrade (colours) Rob Steen (letters). This issue adds some true romance to the true detective plot of the story. Detectives Mellinger and Giroux break the cardinal rule of workplace romance and that never ends well. Garth will get back to blood and mayhem soon I'm sure.

 Amazing Spider-Man #26 - Dan Slott (writer) Stuart Immonen (pencils) Wade von Grawbadger (inks) Marte Gracia (colours) VC's Joe Caramagna (letters). Plenty of action in part 2 of "The Osborn Identity" with Spidey and Silver Sable fighting Norman's henchmen. Some mild intrigue with Doc Ock in the background. I don't get S.H.I.E.L.D.'s stance on what Parker Industries is doing to help Symkaria. Dan has made up some political drama for the sake of the story that doesn't make sense to me.

 Star Wars: Doctor Aphra #6 - Kieron Gillen (writer) Kev Walker (pencils) Marc Deering (inks) Antonio Fabela (colours) VC's Joe Caramagna (letters). No killer droids this issue made it a lot less fun but I did like how the story ended.

 The Unstoppable Wasp #4 - Jeremy Whitley (writer) Elsa Charretier (art) Megan Wilson (colours) VC's Joe Caramagna (letters). I really like this energetic and slightly naïve super hero. She did try to reason with a super villain but when she had to kick butt she did. I hope she can save her old Red Room mate.

 Spider-Man #15 - Brian Michael Bendis (writer) Szymon Kudranski (art) Justin Ponsor (colours) VC's Cory Petit (letters). It's time for Miles's mom to find out about his secret identity. She's not taking it as well as the Ultimate Universe Aunt May did when Peter's secret came out. Szymon's turn on the art for this book is okay but I wish he wouldn't copy panels so much. I feel like I'm not getting my money's worth when artists do that.

 Uncanny Avengers #22 - Gerry Duggan (writer) Pepe Larraz (art) David Curiel (colours) VC's Clayton Cowles (letters). The team de-powers the Red Skull of Professor X's super powers and Charles Xavier can now rest in peace. There's a page in this issue where Rogue is thinking about Professor X and the major decision that she made that Pepe and David did a beautiful job of expressing. I'm sure when Gerry wrote the scene he could not imagine how well rendered it would be.  That page choked me up and stopped me reading. I had to send Pepe a message right then to let him know that image is burned into my memory like John Romita Senior's Peter Parker walking away down an ally with Spider-Man's costume in a garbage can in the foreground. Some comic book art is unforgettable and their page qualifies. Geez Pepe, you outdid yourself.

 Spider-Man/Deadpool #16 - Joshua Corin (writer) Scott Koblish (art) Nick Filardi (colours) VC's Joe Sabino (letters). I did not leave the best for last. This is a tie-in issue. "'Til Death Do Us…"  part 4's only interesting thing for me was seeing who Deadpool teams up with in his other book Deadpool & The Mercs for Money. This did not make me want to read that book nor the grand finale in Deadpool #29 to see what Wade and his monster queen wife Shiklah will wind up doing. I anticipate it will be the divorce from hell. I hope we get back to the silliness that I have come to expect from this book soon.