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babeczka415 · 1 year

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Trap of Lies - Chapter 5

⚠️⚠️TW - Alcohol, Sex, Prostitution⚠️⚠️

A/N: Written and originally posted by Rae

I can hear the drunks hollering out in the bar. Some are even singing loudly in their revelry. It is always like this on nights when the ships come into harbor. Lonely men with gold in their pockets out looking for women and booze. I supply both. I would have to go back out there to keep an eye on things. Honest help is not something you find to hire in a tavern like mine. It is best for me to be present to discourage thief or laziness. I am not one to be cheated out of my due. But hell, I deserve a brake. I take another swig of the bottle of rum on my desk. The pleasant sting and bitterness coating my tongue and throat. The heat of the alcohol only fanning my flames of desire further.

I don’t even know this wench’s name, but they are all the same anyways. Just a warm place to bury my cock and get some relief from the boredom of life. Her skirt is bunched up around her waist as she bounces up and down for my pleasure. I wrap my fingers into her chestnut hair, gripping tightly, before pulling her head back. Hell, the way that causes her to arch her back is a beautiful sight. “You want to touch yourself, don’t you love?” She gives a small nod. “Go ahead, love. I’m not a cruel man. Go on, enjoy yourself.” Quickly, her hand disappears under the front of her dress while the other continued to hold onto the desk tightly for support.

Letting go of her hair, I burrow my left hand into the front of her dress, squeezing the soft flesh hidden there. My forearm, crossing her chest, holding her firmly upright in front of me. My other hand digs into her hip guiding her harder and faster along my length. I move my mouth right next to her ear and as my hot breath hits the sensitive skin there, she moans in pleasure. “Scream for me, love,” I demand, pinching her nipple hard to elicit the response I desire. That pushes me over. A low grunt escapes from my throat as I fill her deeply with my pleasure. My head nods forward resting on her back as I work to catch my breath.

“Phillip!” The man roars as he throws open the door and storms into the room.

“Damn! Don’t you know how to knock,” I yell back.

The lass quickly pulls off of me and lowers her skirts, before scurrying out of the room. I stand, tucking myself back in, as I eye the man before me. At least he had the courtesy to turn his head and look a bit embarrassed. Not that I care.

“Jake,” I say walking around my desk and extending my hand, “To what do I owe this pleasure?” I can’t help but chuckle smugly.

He looks down at my hand, knowing full well what I have been up to recently, and declines to shake it. He looks straight into my eyes, his icy blue ones sharp and penetrating, before he speaks. “They took her, Phil. They took MC.”

"Who? Who took her?" I asked as realization of the situation hit me.

"That is what you're going to help me find out," he replied.

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After the events of this evening, I am not sure who I can trust. Well, trust is the wrong word. I don’t trust anyone, only myself. But to gather secrets, I had to develop contacts. I would like to think these relationships were all cold and calculated. Just an understanding of the character of people and how they would act. Using them while keeping up a mask of friendship. That worked for most of my life, but after MC appeared I knew that I had softened. I had let my carefully constructed mask develop cracks and those closest to me began to seep in. Now look where that softness got me! They had take the only one that I truly loved.

Were there other spies and saboteurs among the guild ranks? I had been so careful who I let in, vetting them carefully over time. As the guild grew, I had compartmentalized tasks so only those of us at the top knew the full pictures. We have hundreds of informants and those who gather information for us. They are our eyes and ears, but not members of the guild. Within our ranks, I established a hierarchy to limit knowledge. I am the only true Master of Secrets. The only one who knows all and controls everything about the guild.

The closest I got to trust was the with the man before me. It had been cold strategy that lead me to develop contact with him. As a tavern owner, he is in the perfect position to gather intel. Liquor loosens lips. Much is learned from the ramblings of the drunken. Add to that the other pleasures offered in the upstairs rooms and this is a den of debauchery and also of knowledge. His “employees” are the perfect network for finding secrets.

I didn’t like the man at first. He oozes charm and charisma. That works on others, but not on me. I have always seen it for what it is, a carefully constructed personality to fool, deceive, and greedily obtain what he wants. It is his mask. Perhaps I saw through it so easily because it reflects my own so well. Perhaps that is also why, it seems like it was inevitable now, we get along. Each of us knows the other’s mask and sees what lies beneath. We are more similar than I would ever have wanted to believe went I first constructed our contact.

We are no longer in his office having moved to a more private room where we can talk away from others. A bottle and two glasses are set on the table between us. I have already drunk enough to calm my rage, but not enough to dull my mind. Rage just won’t do. I have to be cold and calculating about this. The rage has to be pushed aside until I can act upon it. First I have to find the secrets. I have to discover who and why they are behind this kidnapping. And I have to do it quickly.

Phillip Hawkins sits across from me, his long dark hair, which had hung with sweat, is once again combed and tied neatly back. He is composed sitting there, now the cunning man of business once more. I can see he is deep in thought about the situation at hand.

“Phil, I need you to follow up on leads here. Try to track down who is involved and where they took her,” I explain. “I have to go check out the country branch. It needs to be me, in person. I have to learn who this Rogers is and how he got on our payroll. He has been around for 3 years now; but has never made it into the guild. Of course, I have the final say on who joins our official ranks, but his application has never made it to me. Someone else must have been blocking his inclusion too. I need to find out who and what they know.”

“I think you’re right. A visit from you is the best way to get answers from them.” It surprises me that he agrees so quickly. He continues, “I will track them here, find out what this Richy fellow has been up to since coming into the city, and piece together where they took her.” He paused before looking me dead in the eye, “We will find her, Jake. And all the devils in hell will be in awe of the brimstone we will rain down upon those bastards who took her.” The cold fury in his eyes along with the way he clenches his jaw left no doubt that he meant it.

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I hastily change out of my dress clothes, throwing on my worn black trousers and boots followed by a black shirt and cloak. Stopping by the local stable, I stride to the stall where Midnight was chewing his hay. His head rose, his large dark eye looking me over, before whining and shaking his mane. He huffed and stamped his front foot.

“Aye boy, we are going for a ride. It is going to be long and we need to travel fast. But you’re up for that, no? It has been a while since we could really run,” I spoke to him while stroking down from his forehead to his muzzle. Turning I begin to prep my horse for the journey. Holding his reign, I walk to the edge of town before mounting my sleek black steed. I put a scarf around my nose and mouth before placing my hat on my head. I spur Midnight forward and the two of us, horse and rider dressed in black, disappear into the darkness of the night.

#duskwood #duskwoodlover #duskwood fanfiction #writing #fanfic #mc x jake #everbyte duskwood #duskwood jake x mc #duskwood fandom #jake duskwood #trap of lies

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oshikiri-toru · 2 months

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hi. im back !!!!

i didnt have anything good to say and i've been in a mental slump for the past few weeks, but i think im good now pfft

ive also come to say:

WHAT THE FUCK ??????????? THE PHILLIES LOST. THEY LOST TO THE ATHLETICS 18-3 ??????

ive not been keeping track of the phils (obviously), and when i go up to my brother because he had just watched the highlights, he turns to me and just. he just says, "the phillies lost to the a's 18 to 3."

truly devasted 😔

but im still thinking hard about a baseball au oh my. @/forestshadow-ghoap made a post that i accidentally x'ed out of, but i bet it was good 😌

well. im going to skedaddle now. i fare thee well. drink your water and sleep well !!!

-🪱 (im too lazy to go on my other account. sigh.)

Hey worm anon! Great to have you back <3

I hope you're feeling okay. I've been in a big slump too, so I know how you feel. Rooting for you and wishing you the best <33

The Phillies loss was crazy lmao. They tried out a new pitcher (the young man they brought up from the minors) and he sorta choked that game. It got so bad they sent Stubbs out for the final inning :^/ That's why it was so high honestly. I think they got a grand slam and another run from that inning alone haha. They got some rest during the all-star break (and lost twice) but they're back!! 5 runs up today which was good to see, finally.

But since you've mentioned it 👀 I'm taking this as a chance to ramble endlessly about my baseball au ideas

Okay! So, in my head it starts as a normal season, maybe a few weeks in. Soap is the only one not on the team, a young hotshot making waves in AAA. When one (inconsequential) member of the team gets injured so they bring up Soap.

In the beginning, he's learning to take on the new position (maybe he was DH or another infield position before) and really bonds with Ghost as his pitcher. I also like the idea of his going to a cocky, young up and comer to learning to be a part of the team and a real superstar. Also, some found family vibes because yes :)

Some other things:

I like to think Soap is a fan favorite. He's hot, confident, and loves engaging with the fans. The umpires hate him (hes always fighting them), and other teams are annoyed by just how good he is and how unhumble he is about it.

Ghost is well loved in the city with a contract keeping him there for years to come. He's quiet and has no real social presence outside of baseball, but the fans find him charming. I also think he's big into charity, volunteering, and generally giving back to his city. I think he'd do a lot for addicts and poorer families :')

I think it would be so funny for it to be a "everyone thinks their dating while they are clueless" scenario. I'm talking videos of Soap falling asleep on Ghost in the dugout, him spending time in the bullpen when he's on the IL (the camera men were desperately searching for him), him being micd up just to hear him shamelessly flirting or joking with Ghost on the mound, interviewers asking them about their friendship and all their answer sounding suspicious as hell.

(bonus angst, maybe Soap plays into it to gain more attention before realizing he actually does like Ghost)

I have some ideas about the getting together but that comes with some spoilers on how I want it to end (it'll go up to the World Series obvi, with them against their mortal enemies. The Bristol Shadows)

Also. My favorite scene idea rn is an interviewer asking them where they got the nickname Soap for Johnny-

Soap: "Och, it's because I can't stop hitting it clean out of the park"

Ghost: "Actually it's because he ate the decorative soaps at a hotel once thinking it was candy."

#id honestly love to hear any of your ideas because ive got so many bouncing around #i love cod baseball au 🗣️🗣️🗣️#also sorry to takimg so long ive been busy rotting by the pool #hitting a rut but i'll survive 👍#im back to blogging though tumblr watch out #tag : my asks

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thesunicarusfellfor · 3 years

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Hello!! Do you think you could do a part 2 of my request? An maybe a lil bit of angst with fluff where the reader comes to the mansion crying because someone hurt them?( Maybe techno or dream? Possibly jack manifold? 👀) Hopefully that's ok I just love the way you write it's so good plus it makes my day whever I read :D hopefully your day or evening is going good

imhereforfan-fic : Omg can you do another yandere tubbo x reader x yandere ranboo romantic relationship please? Maybe where they get kidnapped by the dream team? Oh and adding on to my request can it also have some cuddling towards the end haha I’m touch starved and crap lol but can it a full length fic Okay okay okay. So. I'm so damn happy people loved this fic and I got two requests that I can easily add together. I hope neither of you minds too much having your requests mixed together ^^ I deadass wanna cry from how many positive reviews I've received from Too Sweet. ALSO. I'm a little wary of making romantic fics for characters Ranboo and Tubbo so I'm gonna play with the platonic marriage, just making it really fluffy and affectionate. PS: THIS ISNT AS FLUFFY AS I WANTED IT TO BE SOOOO OOOOPS. AAAAND. TOMMY ONLY TOOK ONE OF DREAM'S LIVES IN THE FINAL DISC WAR

LIKELY TO HAVE MANY ERRORS DUE TO BAD WIFI AND LACK OF SLEEP TW: Knives (+injuries that come from knives), kidnapping, taking of canon lives, Dream being power-hungry, minor panic attack, referenced strangulation.

Part One

Too Sweet (For This World) Yandere!C!Ranboo x F!Reader x Yandere!C!Tubbo Part 2

A few months had passed since you had moved into the mansion and some... How ended up involved in Ranboo and Tubbo's marriage, as well as being Michael's mother. At first, you were quite unsure about being a wife or a mother, but you saw how happy you had made the three boys and realized how happy they made you in return. In the beginning, neither of them wanted you leaving the mansion much without either of them, but then Ranboo started to notice small and minor declines in your physical and mental health. This caused him to panic and study your symptoms for a few days straight, to the point where you didn't see him once and you were genuinely scared he had lost his canon lives to the point where you kept checking your right wrist constantly for the message confirming Ranboo's death. But thankfully you never got it. When he had figured out what was causing your health to be less than absolutely perfect, he had spoken to Tubbo about letting you out of your room more often and getting you the sunlight you needed. It took a little bit to convince him, but once the goat hybrid learned that you could, or even would, become a lot sicker, he decided to allow you to go outside without them, as long as you stayed within Snowchester. You met a man the first few days you were out, who wore white glasses with blue and red lenses, and a headset with a mic, although he ran away from you the second you introduced yourself as Ranboo and Tubbo's (platonic) wife. Foolish had quickly become your friend around the same time though, which caused Tubbo and Ranboo to be a little unsure because of how he made you laugh and smile, but they noticed how you always kept him at arm's length with friendship and almost physically. Sure you didn't mind too much when he gave you a friendly side hug or pat on the head etc, but you were never really the one to initiate the contact unless you had to. Thankfully he didn't mind your awkwardness around strangers, trust issues, or lack of social exposure, so Ranboo and Tubbo didn't have to threaten a literal god. After saying goodbye to Michael for the day and putting him down for his nap, you got dressed into something more appropriate for travelling the snowy lands that Tubbo owned. Ranboo had to go to a Syndicate meeting, and Tubbo was working more on some buildings around Snowchester, saying something about prepping things to attack Dream who apparently escaped from prison? Not sure could've been rumoured or could be true? You had no clue honestly. You trusted Ranboo and Tubbo to protect you. The crackling of a few pine branches caused you to lift your eyes from the icy water below to turn your head. Walking out of the bushes were three men and one woman, pushing their way through the branches decorated with freshly fallen snow. One of the men was your crown-wearing platonic husband, although dressed up in an outfit you had never seen before, although not too far off from his normal get-up. Ranboo had a long black cape with golden edges and a high collar, held up together by a golden chain. His vest was now a deep royal purple with an eye of ender pin clasped on his tie, and his pants were half purple half black with golden designs sewn in. Beside him was a short female with shoulder-length pink hair and nicely done dark purple and black makeup. Her outfit consisted of a thick and warm lavender sweater with dark purple pants. On her hip was an enchanted netherite sword with a diamond-encrusted handle. You were quick to recognize her as Niki Nihachu, the baker who had lived in L'Manberg, but you hadn't heard much of her since the Pogtopia war. Off to the side, was a man you recognized easily as you had only seen him a few days ago when Ranboo invited him to see Michael, Philza Minecraft. His outfit wasn't too different from what he used to wear when he was a resident in the country, except for the black and gold cape and a black mask covering the bottom of his face. Then... The sight of the final male was the one to make you visibly react. A tall and buff male with a golden encrusted netherite

chest plate and a velvet red cape with gold accents as well. There was a rather majestic crown on top of his long braided pink hair and his dark eyes were narrowed behind a set of cracked glasses... His gaze pointing directly at you. Technoblade. Giving a shaky gasp, you stood up from your spot on the edge of the dock and turned to face the visitors. "Where's Tubbo," Techno growled softly, watching as you visibly trembled under his gaze. "Techno, mate. You're scarin' the hell outta her." Phil put his hand on his middle son's shoulder before stepping in front of him, blocking him from your gaze. "Hey, (Y/n), can you tell us where Tubbo is? We just have to ask him some things." "I'm here." An almost unfamiliar voice came from beside you before a hand was placed on your shoulder. When you looked over, you saw the goat hybrid with the coldest look you had seen him wear yet. "(Y/n), please, head into the mansion." Without another glance at the piglin hybrid, you quickly scurried towards the wooden mansion, faintly hearing the worried buzzing noises of your enderman husband in the distance before you slammed the large door shut. You almost ran towards your's or Michael's room in the basement, but then realized if any of them saw you heading down there, Michael's safety could be compromised. So, you quietly sat down in the living room and curled up on the couch, trying to keep your breathing stable as you fought to keep your mind off of the fact that the man who had almost killed you was standing a few feet outside the door of your home. You pinched your eyes shut and wrapped your arms around yourself, trying your best to simulate the hugs you would usually receive from your platonic husbands after a nightmare or a panic attack. ".../n)." "../n)!" "...(Y/n)!" With a terrified gasp, you flung your arms above your head to shield yourself from any oncoming attacker but only felt a gentle touch on your knee. It took a few seconds to muster up your courage, but you slowly brought your arms down and opened your eyes to come face to face with Tubbo, who immediately sat beside you and wrapped his arms around your shaking frame. After an hour or so with your face buried into Tubbo's shoulder, you felt another pair of arms wrap around you, causing you to look up and see Ranboo burying his face into your hair, "I'm so sorry... So sorry... I didn't think they would come to Snowchester..." You murmured a small, "it's okay," to him as you sat up a bit to return the hug for a few moments. Tubbo got up, murmuring something about going to get you a snack and a glass of water, knowing you must've been hungry or thirsty from panicking. After a few moments, Ranboo let go of you and briefly explained that Phil had given him some potions to help Michael adapt to the overworld, and he needed to give them to him. He rested his forehead against yours affectionately for a few seconds before turning towards the bookshelf and walking down the set of hidden stairs after opening the secret door. Once he shut it, you shuddered and rubbed your arms to get rid of the cold chill that had suddenly washed over you. Frowning slightly, you looked around for the source of the sudden cold, only to freeze as you saw the door cracked open, allowing the snow and cold wind to slip in. Ranboo wouldn't have left the door open... "Sorry kid." A deep and growly voice came from behind you, causing you to spin around and come face to face with Technoblade. The tall tusked male watched your expression go from confusion to horror in less than seconds, "It's nothing personal. Really. I just got a favour to pay off." A scream of terror escaped your lips before everything went black. "Hey, Michael!" Ranboo crouched down to greet the small zombie piglin child as he held a few potions of varying colours in his long arms, he set them and a thermos filled with a hot drink down on the table. "I got some new drinks for you to try today! Philza made them a little extra sweeter than last time." The small child squealed and made small tippy tap noises with his

hooves against the quartz flooring before he sat on the chair. He watched as his tall father sorted through the bottles carefully before uncorking one of the light red ones. Before he could pick up the small pipette, there was an almost unearthly shriek that came from the top of the stairs. "(Y/n)!" Ranboo screamed, unintentionally startling Michael, but that wasn't his main concern as he sprinted out the door then teleporting up the stairs and pushing the bookshelf door with his sword drawn and gleaming with enchantments. In his peripheral vision, he saw Tubbo dash out of the kitchen with his axe drawn and bloodlust in his eyes. Glancing around, the only thing the two men spotted was moonlight and snow spilling through the open door. Tubbo ran out without a second thought and screamed your name at the top of his lungs as he spun around, searching for any sort of sign that would give away your location. Ranboo decided to start looking around the mansion, even though part of him grasped that you wouldn't have screamed without reason. "She's gone..." Tubbo whispered, standing in the doorway, the moonlight creating a dark shadow over his wide eyes. "Footprints are leading to and away from the house, but they disappear on the docks..." Ranboo stayed still, a violent growling noise bubbling up in his throat before escaping past his lips as both his eyes turned purple. He threw his head back and took a breath to scream all his anger out, but froze upon hearing sad whimpering. He turned his head and saw Michael standing at the top of the hidden stairs, whimpering and shaking quite violently. There was part of Ranboo that refused to move, but his brain seemed to flick onto autopilot as he walked over to the child and picked him up. "Sorry... Michael... Something happened..." "Mama?" "...Mama... Won't be home for a while..." "Wake up!" A voice growled before something sharply came in contact with your cheek, shaking you awake. Your eyes shot open and came into contact with... A smiley face? "Aha... Sleeping Beauty graces us with her gaze. It's about damn time." A harsh grip landed on your jaw, making you realize there was a dull throbbing pain in your head. "Huh... Dre... Dream..?" You whispered, barely recognizing the white mask that helped destroy your home and turn it into nothing but a crater. "W-What?" His mask was lifted up enough to the point where you could see his mouth curved up into a sadistic smile. "You, my darling pawn, are just the piece I needed to make life easier for me... I just need to raise the stakes enough for them to be... Well... Stakes. I'm sure you understand." You went to move your hand to slap the gloved hand away from your face, only to give a small whine of pain as you felt a tight pinching on your wrists, making you realize that they were shackled together and likely chained to a wall. "What are you talking about you psychop- Ah!" He tightened his grip on your face to the point where you knew there would eventually be dark bruising. "I don't think you're in a position to be calling the king any names, pawn." Screams and shrieks of pain bounced off of the blank stone walls as the two people standing outside of the door put their heads down with their eyes closed. "You still sure he's doing the right thing, George? Are you still sure... He's the good guy in this story?" "You know better than to question him, Nick." "Don't call me that."

(Y/n) (L/n) was slain by Dream using Nightmare. Life: 2/3 (Y/n) (L/n) suffocated while trying to fend off Dream. Life: 1/3

"He just took two of an innocent woman's three lives. Just to use her as a hostage to make Tubbo hand over the nukes and to force Ranboo to follow his orders... He's a stranger, George. This isn't Dream anymore... Don't be stupid." Sapnap lowered his right arm that he read the messages off of and looked in the direction of his former best friend. The screams of agony were almost haunting as they echoed through Snowchester as silence fell down upon the entire Dream SMP. Shock slipped through the veins of everyone who read the message that appeared on their right wrists. - "I'm gonna kill him..." "I'm going to activate the nukes..." - "Techno... What did you do." "I owed him a favour. What he does after that is none of my business." - "...Isn't that Tubbo and Ranboo's wife?" "Yeah... She was my friend..." - "Tubbo's definitely not happy about this..." - "Ah... Atta girl..." Dream murmured in a mock soothing voice as he gently dragged his knife threateningly along your cheek. "Y'know... You would look better... With a smile." He leaned closer to you, the drawn-on eyes of his mask staring into your dull and tear-filled eyes as a stinging pain came from the corner of your lips. "Sh, sh, Relax... They're just shallow cuts, they won't even leave a scar. I'm not a monster." Time had passed quickly, but also excruciatingly slowly. You had no clue how long you had been down here, or how long you had been dead in between respawns. Dream just didn't seem to be leaving you alone. "Now..." He flipped the switchblade closed and threw it in his pocket before tremours shook the earth below and around you. "What the fUCK?!" He growled deeply before the door slammed open. "How did they even find this place!?" The door was blown off its hinges with a loud bang, causing Dream to duck out of the way of the flying piece of scrap. Light flooded into the room as you shut your eyes tightly, your ears ringing from the explosion. Once your eyes got a little bit adjusted, you opened them and saw five figures in the newly widened doorway. "Let's just say... It was an anonymous tip." "Sapnap?! You dare betray me?!" The black-haired male fell silent as he turned around and walked out, putting his hand on the shoulder of the tallest silhouette in the doorway as he walked by. Once you got completely used to the new light, you began to recognize the figures. Tommy, Tubbo, Foolish, and Ranboo. Tommy, Tubbo and Ranboo immediately ran forward and started a barrage of attacks on the masked psychopath while Foolish ran over and began to work on the chains binding you to the chair. After getting them off of you, he silently picked you up as you turned your head to look at the blond, brunet and monochrome boys. Dream's mask got knocked off and was thrown across the room as he was pinned below a growling Ranboo, whose skin looked almost purely black from your angle. Tommy was off to the side, rummaging through Dream's equipment, he already got his revenge when Dream was put into prison, this was Ranboo and Tubbo's revenge now.

"̷̛̲̪͝Ỳ̵̧̖͒̉o̸̟̔̆û̶̩̟̍͊'̸̧̺̎̉ṟ̷̰͘ế̴͍̰̎ ̶̤͆̎̒g̶̭̋̇o̸͍̐͑i̸̼̟̾ņ̷͊̈́̈́ĝ̷̰̤̈́ ̵̘̉t̵͖͠ȯ̸͎ ̴͎̐̈́r̸̰͙̾̑͝e̸͚͌͑g̴̛̗̦͑ř̷̳̳̱e̵̲̿̕ṫ̶̨͓͗ ̷̢͊E̷̬̪͒͊͂V̷̟̒͝Ë̸̜R̷͐̄̏ͅ ̶̲̟̤͗͋t̴̝̎o̵̖̐ư̴̞̾̇c̶̡̙̐h̵̹̜̣̒͂̂į̴̙̤͠n̴̤̼̻̅̚ǧ̵̹̙̌͜ ̵̥̞̏m̶̱̳̦͗̌y̴̱̮͒̒̄ ̶̮̈͑͆f̸͉̽̄à̵̹͠m̵͕̓̅͋í̸͇̩͔̿l̷̰̫̳͗͑y̸̡͌̊́.̶͓̇͝"̸̡͆ ("You're going to regret EVER touching my family.") Ranboo hissed lowly before he and Tubbo began applying weight to the sword pressed against the speedrunner's chest. You shut your eyes tightly for a moment before you felt a bottle press into your hands, causing you to re-open your eyes to see Foolish trying to hand you a healing potion. You eagerly took a small sip from it, feeling the small slices on your cheeks form back together and the pain from the bruises around your neck vanishing completely.

Dream was slain by Ranboo and Tubbo using Ranord

There was a clattering noise before two sets of footsteps running in your direction. Slowly tilting your head in their direction, you saw Tubbo with dark bags under his eyes and Ranboo with plenty more scars on his cheeks from tears. You were pulled from Foolish's arms and brought down to sitting on Tubbo's and Ranboo's laps, their arms completely wrapped around you. The goat hybrid was nuzzled under your chin while the enderman's face was buried in your hair. "We should have come sooner..." "We shouldn't have even left you alone in the mansion..." "I'm sorry... I should have never left the manor..."

#tubbo x reader #yandere tubbo x reader #ranboo x reader #yandere ranboo x reader #mcyt x reader #yandere mcyt x reader #mcyt #ranboolive #ranboo #tubbo #dream smp #dsmp #ranboo dsmp #ranboo dreamsmp #tubbo dsmp #tubbo dreamsmp #tubbo mcyt #ranboo mcyt

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hacked-by-jake · 2 years

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Phil layed on the bed, eyes wide as he stared at the cold stone wall in front of him. He didn't want to be there, he really didn't want to. If they told him why he was there it would be very nice, but of course no, the Duskwood police always acted like that. He felt someone behind him, but he was frozen with fear.

"Sleep well... My friend..." He heard. The bar owner gulped and looked at the person behind him with the corner of his eye. His inmate stood way too close to him for his liking.

"Can... Can you get away a little bit?" Phil asked quietly, but immediately regretted it. The man moved even closer. The bar owner had nothing to cover himself away, nit even his jacket. "Please, no."

"I like to be close to people." The man said. Phil pressed himself more against the wall. If he could make a call to Jessy, maybe she would help him out from the damned arrest.

"You have another friend, idiots." Alan said, pushing someone into the cell. The guy looked shady, his back hair fell onto his left eye, it was curly at the ends and very fluffy. His gray eyes looked around the cell, before landing on the creepy man next to Phil. The bar owner quickly got up and hid behind the newcomer.

"Please, please make him leave me alone." Phil said, looking above his head. The weirdo walked up to them, ready to invade the stranger's personal space too.

"I bite." The shorter man said. The creep took a step back. "Yeah, good choice, stay away."

"Now, now, no need to be all hostile." He said, baring his teeth in a smile and walking to his corner of the cell. The shorter man looked at Phil now and brushed his bangs off his left eye.

"Now, it's not like I care, but I guess we will stay here for a bit, so what is your name?" The man asked. The bar owner smiled slightly. Finally a normal conversation.

"Phil." He said. The man looked away and walked up to the bars, looking at Alan who was playing a game on his phone. "And you?"

"I am Jake. And you are quite pretty, I am not suprised that guy was all over you." Jake said and smiled to himself. Phil rised his eyebrows. Why couldn't it be a nice girl for once? He shared the cell with three different men already and everyone was interested in his body- "I bet all the girls are after you, hm?"

"Yeah, sort of." Phil said and rested his back against the wall. He crossed his arms and looked at Jake's clothes. "You will get a heat stroke walking around dressed like that."

"You are right." Jake sighed and took his hoodie off. He revealed a tank top underneath that was hugging his body tightly. Phil felt himself blush. He wasn't gay, he wasn't gay, he was NOT GAY.

"Oh, okay, okay." He mumbled to himself. Jake put his hoodie on the not occupied bed. He had a massive scar across his upper back that peeked from under the tank top in two places. Phil wondered how it ended up there, not realizing he was staring.

"Enjoying the view?" Jake asked, biting his lip. Phil blushed more. It would be a very long time until he gets some fresh air again and even longer before he forgets how good the stranger looked-

efihaepwdfhaoidf YES! YEEEEES! YEEEEEEEEESSSSS! GOSH!

Anon, I love you for writing this and sending it to me! Damn, I need more Jake x Phil content. Way more. I'm such a idiot for this couple! Jake and Phil just fit together so well, it’s crazy. The tension between the two and their nature, it’s just perfect.

"I bite" Oh, I'm sure he does. 👀

Okay, this was so good. I loved it! And I need more. And I loved the way you wrote it! Jake is so hot. And I’m a little jealous that I can’t see him in the tank top. And I love how flirtatious Jake is.

Thank you so much for sharing. I'm sure a lot of people here will like it! *-*

Well, what about a part 2? 🤭 Of course, only if you want to. And don’t stress, take all the time you need, but I would love it!

#jail being in jail together #duskwood anon ask #duskwood anon fanfiction #duskwood jake #duskwood phil #duskwood jake x phil #duskwood jail #duskwood enemies to lovers #duskwood fanfiction #duskwood game #duskwood #duskwood everbyte #everbyte duskwood #everbyte studio #hbj dw answers #tw sexually abusive behavior #cw sexually abusive behavior

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sweetberrysmooch · 4 years

Text

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

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

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

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

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

Song Recommendation: I Love You So- The Walters

Hella fluffy! Hope you enjoy <3

From best to worst:

#1: BadBoyHalo-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Baaaaaaaaaaad, we’re hungry.” Sapnap.

“Yeah Bad, feeeeeeeed uuuuuuus.” George.

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

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

#2: Philza

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

#3: Quackity-

Quackity:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

#4: Schlatt-

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

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

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

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

Overall, a good 4th place on the list.

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

“Where are the eggs, Schlatt.”

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

“Schlatt.”

“Yes.”

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

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

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

#5: Dream-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

#6: Technoblade-

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

6th place ^^; sorry king.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

#7: Fundy and Sapnap tie.

Fundy-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sapnap-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

#8. George-

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

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

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

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

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

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

#9: Wilbur

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What’s for dinner tonight, mate?”

“Hope you don’t mind if we join in!”

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

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

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succubusphan · 3 years

Text

The Caffeine Fiend

Summary: Dan's favourite customer hasn't stopped by in a while.

Tags/warnings: fluff, getting together, coffee shop au.

Rating: G

Word count: 1k

A/n: This fic was written for the Valentine's Day Im-PROMPT-u hosted by the @phandomreversebang. The prompts I used were "Coffee" and "Chat Logs." This fic was Sponsored by Pini's biscuits, ten years in the business, grey hairs included in every order.

Please like, kudo, reblog and all that good stuff if you enjoyed it!

Read on ao3

Tuesdays were Dan’s favourite days. His roommate always teased him for getting a crush on one of the regulars, but honestly, he’d been in a dry spell for months now and the guy was so polite and thoughtful and hot!

He was obviously in a good mood already, slowly dancing to FKA Twigs’ latest hit as he made yet another latte art for a blonde girl from his uni.

“Hey,” she bit her lip. “Um-” She giggled and bit her lip.

Oh, baby Jesus. Not the flirting. He smiled nonetheless.

“Yeah?”

She slid a piece of paper over the counter. “Um. Here’s my number,” she tucked her hair behind her ear. “Text me or whatever.”

“Oh, honey,” he said, watching her smile disappear and be replaced with a pale panicked look. “Don’t take me wrong, you are adorable and I love that sweater on you, but I’m just really Gay.”

“Oh,” she said, her lips frozen in a tiny o.

“Yeah. I would have texted you otherwise,” he said. “Promise!” he put his hand on his chest.

“Well… I could use a friend. Text me anyways, if you want! We could get together and watch movies and talk about men nasty boys.”

Aw, she was cute. “What’s your name?”

“Amanda.”

“Alright, Amanda. My name is Dan. I’ll text you and we can go from there.”

“I have a gay friend who is feeling a bit too lonely. Maybe I could introduce you?”

“Hmm, let’s take it one step at a time. Ok?”

“Yeah,” she shook her head. “Yeah, that’s totally fine. Sorry. So, hope you text me. No pressure though.”

“Alright, thank you.”

He watched her happily walk out of the shop with her second coffee of the day. Dan sighed and rested his chin on his hand, longingly looking to the door, but losing hope fast; it was 10 a.m already and Phil hadn’t come in for his caffeine boost. Dan briefly had to wonder if something happened to him, but shook his head and try to go about his day.

Tuesday turned to Wednesday, then Thursday and Friday with no life signals coming from Phil. In the 6 months Dan had worked at the coffee shop, Phil had never gone this long without at least coming to say hi. “Hey, Lana, do you think we should ask someone to do a welfare check on Phil?”

“Hmm, I don’t know. It is weird that he hasn’t come in a few days but maybe he just went back home for a bit.”

“In the middle of the semester?”

Lana shrugged. Yeah, maybe he was overreacting a bit. He needed to get a life and stop thinking about his favourite customer. He grabbed his phone and wrote Amanda a quick text. “hey it’s Dan from ‘Wild.’ are you still up for those movies?”

“Hi! OMG! Yes!!! Tonight?”

How could anyone be that excited about anything was beyond him. Then he got an address and agreed to go to the girl’s house against his better judgement. At least she didn’t look like a serial killer.

----

Dan shifted from one foot to the other in front of the door, second-guessing himself. What was the worst that could happen? Why was he so anxious about it? He was about to turn around and walk away when he heard a familiar voice and every hair on his body stood.

“Dan? What are you doing here?”

He turned around and met Phil’s gorgeous blue eyes. “Hi,” he said, his voice a bit too high.

“Do you know Amanda?”

“Yeah, she goes to the shop sometimes and I think we share a class.”

“Do you have a date with her?” Phil said, frowning. Why was he frowning?

“Uh, no! Noooo, nononono!” Dan laughed. “Just came over to watch a movie.”

“Are you sure?”

“Pretty sure.” Dan pressed his lips into a line. What was that all about? “Do you have a date with Amanda? Is she your girlfriend?”

The door opened swiftly to reveal Amanda standing there with a wide smile.

“Oh my god! Hiii, come in!”

Dan looked between them and walked in because he had been told to and felt too awkward to leave. “Hi, thank you.” He removed his shoes and put them into the shoe rack by the door Amanda was pointing to. He watched Phil do the same and set a set of keys on the console table. “So… how do you guys know each other?”

“I live here,” said Phil.

“I’m Phil’s bestie,” added Amanda.

Dan was dying to ask a million questions but he would have to space them out to avoid looking like a stalker. They walked to the living room and sat in front of the TV in awkward silence.

“Ooh, I should get us drinks and chips! Forgot them in the kitchen!” Amanda got up and powerwalked out of the room.

“Are you ok?” Dan asked. Phil’s usual smile was nowhere to be seen and he looked very uncomfortable.

“Yeah, why? Do I look bad?”

“No, no. I just - you haven’t come in for coffee for a while.”

“You noticed that?”

“Yes, of course. I thought about contacting the uni for a welfare check but my coworker said I was being dramatic.”

“Hey, maybe I was just trying to quit caffeine!” Phil finally smiled, clearly trying to hold back a laugh.

Dan’s lips twitched as well. “Yeah right. We know how you get without coffee.”

Phil rolled his eyes but didn’t comment on it. “So… you really did notice I didn’t stop by.”

“Yes, I noticed, ok? And what about it?”

“It’s just -” Phil leaned closer to him, cocking his head. “I didn’t think you’d care.”

Despite still being too confused about the situation, Dan kissed him, hoping that he wasn’t crossing a line or anything. When he tried to pull away, Phil wouldn’t let him.

They didn't actually see Amanda again until the next morning or watch that movie, but they made it up to her the following weekend.

Phil never missed another morning coffee with Dan, especially after he moved in with them a few months later.

#phanfiction #phanfic #valentine's impromptu #succubusphan fics #dnp #phan

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fruggin-bitch · 4 years

Text

random hilarious tubbo quotes

this is all from tubbo’s best of 2020 (link here)

this gonna be long probs so imma do a cut :) enjoy

also i might include some longer bits for a bit of context :)

Tubbo: I am so high right now, I am up so high right now.

Wilbur:*slams desk* AHH my favorite tubbo quote ever!

Phil: Tubbo moment *WIlbur dying in the background*

Tubbo: *confused* wait what??

~~~

Tubbo: The containment pit for containing shit

~~~

Tubbo: *holding a string* That was on my floor, I literally just shat myself

Tubbo: I need new trousers.

~~~

Wilbur: I’m good, I've just been cooking steak!

Tubbo: Ive been cooking this FUCKING VILLAGE!

~~~

Wilbur: Am I gonna get cancelled if i steal the color yellow this time?

Tubbo: You can have the color yellow cause i now have an alter ego.

Wilbur: What’s your alter ego?

Tubbo: I call it poo, and i go brown.

Wilbur:

Wilbur: Your alter ego is to be literal shit?

Tubbo: Literal shit, feces, on the floor, hot and steamin’.

Wilbur:... Tubbo do you want to be yellow?

Tubbo: I think i’ll be yellow yeah

~~~

Sapnap: Plasma membrane?

Tubbo: Plasma? That says phantom.

Sapnap:

Tubbo: You just got corrected by a Dyslexic person

~~~

Tubbo: Tommy watch dream’s body in game, watch his body right now

*anvil drops on dream*

Tubbo: Squish

~~~

Mediashare: NaeNae ‘fore you get a whoopin’

Tubbo: Wh- What- Was that ranboo? Give me a sec there's something i need to do. There’s something i need to do of urgent importance

Tubbo: *Blocks ranboo on twitter*

~~~

Anyone: Tubbo dis you do keys?

Tubbo: STOP ASKING ME THAT

~~~

*Anyting happens in FNAF*

Tubbo: *Spams the keyboard and accidentally quits the game*

~~~

Tommy: Tubbooooo

Tubbo: Tommyyyyy

Tommy: TUBBOOOOOO

Tubbo: TOMMYYYYYYY

~~~

Tubbo: I’m just spamming shift cause my pinky finger’s excited

~~~

Ela: i need this i’m a lemon, Tubbo!

Tubbo: You’re eleven?

Ela: I’m a lemon!

Tubbo: years old?

~~~

Tubbo: Brilliant! What do we do with the rest of the cocain- I mean NOT cocaine

~~~

Tubbo: *agressively shifting* WE DIDNT START THE FIRE IT WAS ALWAYS BURNING SINCE THE WORLDS BEEN TURNING

~~~

Tubbo: What can you do with 5% battery? I’m like ‘i know’ and I call my nan, and we spoke about canbabalism.

~~~

Tubbo: -he makes you- AHHHH *falls down hole*

Tubbo: we’re off to a really good *Falls done another hole and dies*

Tubbo:.... We’re off to a really good start

~~~

Tubbo: -And he’s like *smacks head* I’ve left them at home!

Tubbo: and i just *smacks table* i’m fuming. I’m mad.

Tubbo: Honestly- Cannibalism’s looking pretty good right now

~~~

Tubbo: ART SO MUCH ART, ART IS DEAD

Tommy and Tecno: *confused af*

Tubbo: THE AGE OLD CLASSICS ROT AWAY IN THE ARCHIVES

Tommy: What the fuck??

Tubbo: THE AGE OLD CLASSICS ARE ROTTING AWAY IN THE ARCHIVES ONLY TO BE LOOKD AT BY THE EYES OF ROMAN MEN! THE ROMAN MEN

~~~

Tommy: that’s when we give you negative feedback

Tubbo: negative re in force meant AND THATS THE ARCHIVES OF THE ROMANS

~~~

Tubbo: -because they're on oppisite sides of the room, and i get confused like that a lot recently. So i walked in there, with my dirty laundry in the toilet and goes to piss in the landry basket, realizes what ive done- im like oh, wait a second

tubbo: i'm just not with it today

some dude: How can someone be that stupid?

Tubbo: OI you didn't know where AFRICA was!

~~~

tubbo talking to chat: Are you coing to build a house with tommy? If he would like to

tubbo: I'm gonna build some kind of satanic ritual pit

~~~

tubbo to tommy: God, you're so confident

tommy: Thank you, tubbo. Do you aspire to be more like me?

Tubbo: I do.

Tubbo: Actually thats a COMPLETE lie GOD

~~~

Ninja: Yo, who am i talkin to here, man

Tubbo: ~The lord~

Ninja: The lord?

Tubbo: THE LORD

Tommy:*laughing* What?

Tubbo: Would you- would you like to join?

Tommy: Stand back, Ninja

Tubbo: I,,,, PRAISE THE LORD

~~~

*Tubbo's minecraft glitches and he's sitting on techno's shoulders while techno is bouncing looking at the sky*

tubbo: technoblade this is innapropriate i'm 16

~~~

Tommy: *asking what fetish means*

tubbo and fundy: We're not going to explain that on stream

Tommy: Well untel then, i'm just going to have to assume it means food.

~~~

Tommy: Why dont we calm down with a hot bowl of fetish

tubbo: you are disgusting

~~~

Tubbo: TEchNOblAdE!! PROBLEM THERE NO IS NOT

~~~

Tubbo: *holding up a mousepad with him on it* i am not an egomaniac

~~~

Tommy: *trapped under the pistons*

Tubbo: wait i have an idea! *places water on tommy* now he can’t breathe

~~~

That’s it for this, but you should definitely go watch it because the quotes are amazing enough by themselves but the facial expressions make it 1000x better

#OKAY this was really long but thats cool #yes i realize that ive quoted probably like half of the best of #but its too fuckin funny #tubbo #tubbo quote #tubbo moment #tubbo_#mcyt #dsmp #technoblade #philza #wilbur soot #fundy #tommyinnit #sapnap #ranboo #bean quotes shit

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poptod · 3 years

Text

Cambridge Ghouls pt. 3 (Ahkmenrah x Reader)

Description: Your friend’s antics has pulled you and Ahk out of your comfortable library and into Scotland.

Notes: been a hot minute since i updated this so renewal on what is going on here: you are a zombie named crayon who lives on the grounds of cambridge university. your friends are ahk, a revived mummy; amy, a ghost; phillip, a vampire; rose, a corpse; and benjamin, a human. i wrote and came up w this while high and i feel like im following in the footsteps of shawn, the writer of natm. enjoy the story i tacked onto the one drawing i made WC: 6.8k

The pressure of your head on his shoulder, face hidden in the beaded cloth of his collar, was the only sensation he cared to feel. Early hours of night often lead to this position––cradled in blankets, trying to learn English, and trying to cope with the new world the both of you were vomited into. Tonight was much the same, though the familiar warmth of the hearth was cold in the dusty dark of the library room.

Your friends had yet to join you, a fact that had Ahk glancing at the door every five minutes. It was unlike them to take so long. If he had to guess, he'd surmise they'd gotten into a spot of mischief, and were held up with their own problems. That happened an unfortunate amount of times, but Ahk didn't mind much, as it often left the two of you in peace and quiet. While the four of them cavorted off on school grounds, he kissed the top of your head.

"- and did I ever tell you where I got that from?" came from behind the door, muffled but growing steadily closer. The footfalls of several people followed, and Ahk assumed it was his friends finally visiting you and him.

The door slamming open startled you into a jump that pushed your cat off your lap, knocking Ahk's jaw as you frantically scanned the room. His lower teeth clashed with his upper, sending a sharp wave of pain through his skull, one that quickly dissipated upon seeing his friends. Phillip, leading the pack, was talking loud and fast with wildly fast hand movements, and was clearly not being understood by anyone present. Amy followed close behind, floating above the heads of the others for ease. Then came a very distressed-looking Ben, whose usual soft features were contorted into panic.

Phillip continued talking for a minute, unchallenged for attention, until Ahk, who grew easily irritated at times, finally stopped him.

"Phil!" He said, his accent still twisting his words. "None of us can understand you."

"Wh -" he paused at last, looking to each of them, "I – Ben lost my violin!"

"A what?" Ahk said, taken aback.

"I'm sorry!" said Ben in a fluster.

"He did what?!" said Amy.

You stumbled over quietly, hanging off of Ahk's arm as you attempted to listen.

"I got that violin from my grandfather, crafted out of this beautiful wood and enchanted, and... ohh! You are so irritating sometimes," Phillip whined, growing into a growl as he pointed a finger at Ben.

"Enchanted? What, like a magic violin?" Amy asked.

"Precisely like a magic violin," Phillip said with a sigh, looking dramatically morose. What else could you expect of a vampire from the 1600's?

"Can someone please tell me what a violin is?" Ahk said, glancing between Ben, Amy, and Phillip.

"It's an instrument like the harp or lyre," Amy quickly explained. "Ben borrowed a 'special' violin from Phil after almost failing music class."

"I can't afford to fail another class," Ben moaned, "I'm already two classes over the limit, and my parents can only do so much."

"Mein Gott," Phil said under his breath.

"Is your grandfather going to be mad?" Ben asked nervously, turning to Phil.

"No, they're not hard for him to make. He's just the only one who's capable of making them, and the wood is very specific. It's the only kind that can channel pure magic."

"So... the Tree of Life," Ahk said. He had his hands folded beneath his chin, eyes concentrated on the vampire.

"Something like that. It's just – look, I need that violin, too. We can go and try to find that tree and ask my grandfather to make another, and you can use it to pass the class, but after that it comes back to me. Don't take music next year," Phillip said, turning to face Ben.

"Damn it," Ben cursed. "Fine. Deal."

"Wonderful," Phillip said with a curt smile, shaking Ben's hand firmly.

Once he let go, Phillip went straight to the bookcase, supernaturally fast eyes scanning the many titles. Ahkmenrah watched on for a moment in mild confusion before his attention was diverted to you, your weight falling onto him as you leaned.

"Careful there," he murmured, helping to rebalance you. You wouldn't understand him, but the sentiment was there, and you stayed close-by.

Ben, being a tall lad, looked over Phillip's shoulder every time he pulled a book down. While he did that you got distracted by your cat Winchester purring at your feet, kneeling down to gather him in your clumsy arms. The undead cat––much like you––didn't weigh much after the rot.

"Amy, are these books up-to-date on their information?" Phillip asked, ignoring Ben's breathing in his ear.

"Why should I know that?"

"Because you know an absurd amount of things that don't really matter except for in certain, usually odd instances," Phillip replied without looking up.

"... most of them are up to date," she mumbled. Phillip thanked her before promptly returning to his search.

You tugged on Ahk's sleeve again, opening your mouth to say something but only a soft whine leaving you. He took your hand, facing you with concerned eyes, but said nothing. Instead he scanned your expression, waiting to see if you would motion or signify anything. You wouldn't understand his words, anyway.

"Hunngryy.." you suddenly breathed out, your fingers coming to rest on high on his cheek, dragging down to the end of his jaw. His eyes widened.

"Hungry?" He repeated.

Ahk turned to the others, contemplating how he would get you something to eat. There was no food in the library, and very little food in the whole of the school, what with the winter break nearing. Best choice would be to keep with the others, he decided.

"You'll be alright for a little bit, right?" He asked you. You showed no signs of any reaction, only staring at your fingers touching his face.

"Ahk, we need to go to Scotland," Phillip said, snapping a book shut and sliding it back into its' place on the bookshelf.

"What? Why?"

"Because of the British," he seethed, promptly whipping around and walking out the door.

Ahk watched on in his usual state of confusion, but knew better than to ask questions. As much of a leader as he was born and bred to be, he was happy to follow the vampire's lead, to look after you as the others panicked about their petty things.

So he took your hand––followed only when everyone else was out the door, and locked the library behind him, fingers still entwined with yours. Though your hands were in a constant clumsy blunder, you tried your best to keep still in his touch. He never minded. Your fingers, while a little cool, had a forgiving magic that calmed him easily.

Brisk night air hit his face the moment he exited the school, following his friends through the grassy fields growing outside the brick and mortar building. Disappointing as it was unavoidable, none of the stars showed in the sky, blurred by the bright streetlamps lining the puddle-filled roads. The distinct scent of rain––petrichor––intoxicated the air he breathed, a leftover of the rains plaguing the city all day. Cars passed by, though luckily not often, as the sound of a roaring engine followed by rainwater splashing up his leg was not something Ahk enjoyed. His beautiful, golden robes never fared well in dreary English weather.

You showed no aversion to the cold or the wet. He had never seen you shiver, or wipe rain off yourself, or avoid stepping in puddles. You tried to stay out of mud, yes, but that was about it.

Phillip paused at the roadside, glancing out at the street with wide, searching eyes. Ben joined him on his right, and the two of them began to look for a cab, a fact that Ahk only knew because it was how they always got around. Once you caught up to Ahk halting, you bumped into his shoulder. Winchester followed you in a quick strut, ever loyal to his owner. For a second you stumbled back, but with a tug from him you were centered, once again resting part of your weight on him. Without him, you slouched in a noticeably-undead way.

"Can I ask what we're doing?" Ahk asked Amy, though he kept his eyes on the two men trying to hail a cab.

"One moment," she said.

A second later and he noticed the car driving up, rolling wheels flicking water onto the shined ends of Ben's tailored shoes. He stepped back with a gasp, backing into Phillip, who quickly pushed him away. Once the cab came to a full stop, Phillip made his way to the front window to speak with the driver. After a quick conversation, the five of you crammed into the back of the cab, your knees held up high to your chests with each of your hands in your respective laps.

"Now can I ask what we're doing?" Ahk asked again.

"We're going to Scotland to get the tree," Amy said.

"It's a specific strain that doesn't exist in England, but there should be a few up in the highlands," Phillip further explained.

"Are we taking a cab all the time?"

His slip-up in english was overlooked as Phillip said, "we're getting to the train station. Won't be a comfy car but we should get there in time."

"We'll need you two to get the tickets for us. They see Ahkmenrah, or Crayon, they're going to ask questions. If they see me, well... um.. I suppose I could just act like a ghost," Amy said, trailing off as she thought strategically.

"Good point. And we need an excuse for when they come to check our tickets," Phillip said as he leaned inward into the group, his right leg bouncing up and down.

"Movies! Or – or a musical, how's that work?" Ben suggested in a sudden moment of brilliance, a wide smile matching his sporting tone.

"Good idea, for once. And – wait," Phillip paused, "is the screen between us and the driver...?"

"It's there," Amy said, sparking a sigh of relief out of Phil.

"Gott sei Dank," Phil mumbled.

For the next 10 minutes of driving that should've been six without traffic, the three of them discussed the technicalities, the lies they would have to formulate in order to achieve their goal. In that time you began to gnaw on your fingers, hunger tearing at your already shoddy intestines. Ahk scolded you twice, though it never worked, and the third time he did so you whined and hid your face in him. He sighed quietly, leaning in to kiss the top of your head.

As the cab began to slow to a halt, Benjamin pulled out his wallet, handing several notes to the driver through the tray given. With that the five of you stumbled out of the tiny black automobile, watching it speed off only to stop at the next hailing woman.

"Alright, you guys wait out here. Benjamin and I will be back in a couple minutes," Phillip said, halting you, Ahk, and Amy beside a bench near the entrance.

Though clearly irritated by the command, Amy took the invisible seat beside the bench. Ahk took a seat as well, and you easily followed, fidgeting with the skin on your hands.

"How long will they take do you think?" Ahk asked.

"Ten minutes maybe? Neither of them have great... people skills," Amy said hesitantly, her eyes never leaving the doors of the station.

A tug on his head stopped him from asking for clarification, and instead he turned back to you, patiently but quietly asking what you were doing. You hummed something unintelligible, continuing to pull at his crown. To spare himself the headache he took it off for you, handing the heavy gold to you, and chuckling softly when you couldn't quite carry it.

To your side sat Winchester, who gingerly sniffed the shining metal before shrinking away in disdain. You mumbled something again before landing a kiss on top of the cat's head.

"I'm going to need that back, you know," Ahk said with a chuckle, bringing your attention back to him.

You just tilted your head and smiled, slightly spaced out but eyes filled with a warmth. Every now and then he glimpsed this, this spirit that had nothing to give but kindness, who shone from the best center a human can have; honest adoration for another. You raised your hand, tangling your fingers in his dark hair and ruffling the curls there.

For a moment you tried to say something, but as it continually didn't come out right, you instead attempted bopping his nose with your fingertip. Attempted meaning not successfully; you missed and almost poked him in the eye, but Ahk flinched and you just poked him on his cheek. He chuckled, took your hand, and kissed the back of it.

A blush of sorts took to your cheeks. Like most times, you had little idea why you were feeling strangely, and thus pulled away from his touch. He knew not to mind by now.

"Amy?"

"Mm?"

"Do you think they have any food in there?"

"Nothing that's open. Might have a coffee place still up, but... well, they might have some croissants. Bread," she said, taking a moment to think before she spoke.

"I don't think Crayon would eat it," Ahk said.

"Probably not." Amy looked past Ahk to you, watching you for a moment before continuing. "The dinner car might be open, though. Depends on how expensive the tickets are."

"Hmm," he sighed. "Thank you."

She nodded with a smile before turning back to the train station, the warm light of lamps both indoor and outdoor illuminating the empty waiting lines and streetsides. Those still outside were dressed in coats and scarves, though weren't piled up in different layers––those would have to wait for colder months, which would not come until the warmer ones came and went.

Most people ignored the three of you. Close to no light shone on the bench shadowed by the overhang, and since you kept quiet, no one bothered to spare an extra glance. In the dark, Amy was mostly invisible. You and Ahk didn't have that power, but you mostly looked like a homeless person, and Ahk... well, he wrapped himself up in his cape, and that was about the best disguise he could manage.

The door of the station clicked open, drawing all eyes to the approaching figure of Phillip, silhouetted against the lights of the station inside.

"Ben's inside, we booked a room and we're leaving in five minutes," Phillip said, almost out of breath as he stopped in front of you.

"Five minutes?" Amy asked as the three of you stood. "Rather last minute, isn't it?"

"It's a night train, no one's got tickets anyway," Phillip said, tapping the backs of each of you as you passed him, coralling you all into the building.

It wasn't warmer inside as Ahk expected, leading him to thoughtlessly tuck his arms into himself. He'd been looking forward to some warmth. Hopefully he'd find that on the train. Just as Amy surmised, most of the restaurants inside the building were closed, iron grates pulled over once-colorful shops. Ahk paused to take in what little architecture he could see in the dark, but was soon pulled away by Phillip leading the group onwards.

Once again he tapped your backs, counting each of you as you entered the halted train. You reached for Ahk's hand as you walked down the long hallway, searching for the right room number, which only Benjamin and Phillip knew. Most of the lights outside the train were dimmed by the darkened windows, and instead the way was shown by tiny lamps lining the hallways and rooms.

"Here," Ben said, stopping those ahead of him. You and Ahk turned, and the five of you piled into the little room, whose velvet seats were soon covered up by your group.

As usual, you took your seat beside Ahk, who had claimed a window seat that happened to be near the table as well. On the other side of the train car, there was nothing but empty tracks and the eerie darkness of cities at evening. You sniffed and leaned back against the Pharaoh.

"Mmm," you mumbled, turning to press your face into his side, "hunngryy."

"I know," he said softly. "Do we have a food car?"

"I don't know if they'll have any real food, but they probably have snacks," Phillip said, still situating himself in the crowded room.

Ahk looked to Amy, who shrugged.

"Might as well try," she said, and with no reason to refute her, Ahk clumsily led you past the seated legs and back into the hallway.

The train began to rumble forward as the two of you walked. You bumped into Ahk's back when it happened, but you regained balance easily, and two train cars down you found the dining car. Only one light was on, sat upon the bartop beside a single bowl of nuts. The windows, lined by red and gold curtains, showed nothing but speeding darkness outside.

You moaned uneasily, tugging on Ahk's sleeve as your eyes remained entranced upon the flickering buildings outside.

"Fast, isn't it?" He said softly, glancing to you before looking back outside. "You'll be alright?"

Of course you didn't understand his words, but seeing as he wasn't upset by the high speeds, you calmed down. He then glanced over the bar counter, searching for any food besides the bowl of nuts. Upon finding nothing his face screwed up in dissatisfaction.

"Will you eat nuts?" He asked as he took the bowl, handing it to you.

You fingered through them, pushing aside the ones you deemed inedible. He watched you for a little while––and you did take a while to sort the whole bowl––but in the end you only ate about three. It might tide you for a little while, but you would have to eat again later.

After thoroughly searching the train car, the two of you returned to the rest of your friends, who had made busy discussing the fickle state of Phillip's teeth. Phillip himself wasn't engaging much considering he didn't find the topic an agreeable conversation point, and his stubbornness had led way to Ben and Amy getting once more embroiled in debate.

"I honestly think his teeth grow. I'm pretty sure I've heard of that being a condition, and I mean, it happens to rabbits. It could happen to humans," Ben said, crossing his arms but keeping a polite tone. Amy, however, had no consideration for such niceties.

"I... I don't care to unpack all that, but we've told you this before. He's a vampire. He can retract his teeth, and that's why they have different sizes at different times," she explained in a seething voice, her teeth clearly gritted behind her lips.

"Where would someone store a retracted tooth? It's not like claws, there's no space in the skull," Ben said, completely passing over the very clear indicator of something he had yet to figure out; Phillip was a vampire.

"Tiny bit of food over there, but I'm still going to be looking," Ahk said halfheartedly to Amy, crawling in beside her on the bench. "How long's this ride supposed to be?"

"Ten hours," Phillip replied gruffly, his half-lidded eyes staring vacantly out the window. He slouched against the wall, balancing his cheek on his palm, elbow rested on the tiny desk beneath the glass.

"Oh dear," Ahk said, his voice suddenly small.

"Yes, well," Phillip sniffed, shifting in his seat, "we'll have to be quick once we get there. Our ticket back is for the coming morning."

"Wait, morning?! Have you forgotten Crayon and I can't see the sun?"

"Oh, shit, my apologies," he said, eyes wide as he remembered your unfortunate curse. He stood, smoothing out the wrinkles in his suit. "I'll, um, I'll go see the director. I'm sure I can get something sorted, trade in your tickets for, um... tomorrow night. We can get you a hotel room or something."

He left quick after that, scooting past all your legs before pushing himself out the door. A deep uneasiness settled itself inside Ahk, appearing in the form of a racing heart, and paranoid thoughts. To die, to risk seeing the dawn just for a violin, seemed to him a strange way for his story to end. He had a feeling––one that would never go away––that he would not die to the sun. Not him, the undead King of a sunkissed land. Still, just because he was somewhat-certain about himself not dying, he had you to worry about. You didn't understand the whole 'sun will kill you' thing all that well, and you had no fear regarding the morning. He would have to keep an eye on you the later into the night it got.

The stars, once clogged by streetlamps and busy restaurant lights, shone brighter in the suburbia sprawling out across the land. Very slowly the tall buildings began to fade, and the homes grew less and less frequent till each one had a personality of its' own. Grass and overgrowing flora took the place of wide, car-lined streets, and eventually the short brick walls flanking either side of the train tracks fell away to show the whole of the land.

Ahk didn't need sleep. You didn't either, but the two of you nonetheless curled into one another, dozing in the warm light as the others conversed quietly. He overheard little (considering he didn't care to listen), but the others seemed to be in good spirits despite the loss of an apparently valuable violin.

Brakes screeching outside brought him to stir, dazed eyes landing first on the pale sky, and then to you, completely zonked out. He chuckled but had no time to comment on it before Phillip was rushing the five of you out, grabbing the few coats you kept in the top rack and coralling you down the hall.

The air here had a certain taste; that was what Ahk first noticed upon exiting the train. Although the sky was already beginning to lighten, it was clear the sun would not come for a good several hours, as the stars still shone in the darker pockets of space. Rolling hills and jagged mountains surrounded him, framing the tiny train station that remained entirely unoccupied save for him and his friends. Down the grass-filled valley lay a town whose houses consisted of wood, painted dull colors but decorated with flowers, petals of red, yellow, and purple lining the brick roads. Very little light from the horizon reached the town.

Phillip hit Amy on the side. "There," he said, eyes trained on the distance as he pointed across the outdoor station, "tree groves. Looks like pine."

"Indeed it is," she said with a smile.

"Is that what we need then? A pine tree?" Ben asked.

"Well... sort of," Phillip said, shrugging.

He scanned the train stop, and in less than a second he began to go in the right direction, headed for the tall bridges that crowned the railroad. The others followed quick behind, though Ahk had to grab your hand and pull you away from the alluring lights of the town.

"Hunng..gry," you whined, stumbling over your feet as you tried in vain to escape Ahk's grasp.

"Crayon, you can't go down there," he said, feeling more and more as though he was taking care of a child. "Come now."

You whined again but made no more attempts to refuse. Once you caught up to the rest of the group, the sudden loss of speed in Ahk's step had you bumping into him again, but once your head rested on the back of his shoulder you stayed put. Each time you rested yourself on him in any way, a fluttering light would suddenly overtake him with a blush. This was only strange because you did that a lot––each night, multiple times, you would put your head on his shoulder, lean on his chest, rest your hands in his lap. Another charm of yours.

Freezing damp surrounded his feet, open to the coming breezes since he never wore anything but sandals. His state of being mostly-undead kept him from feeling a good deal of the cold, there was still a tingling numbness, apparent in all of his fingers and the tip of his nose. For the first time he shivered, helpless to the vibrations pulsing through him.

"Ah, careful here," Phillip said, slowing the pace to make way for a long, stone fence ranging all the way down into the village. "The rocks are still very wet, so..."

Amy floated on over the wall, materializing her hand to help Phillip step over. He took it with a thank you, balancing himself on her, and soon helping Ben and Ahk over as well. Even Winchester got over, his large paws landing on the stones before jumping back down into the mud and grass. Unfortunately, you were still on the other side and incredibly confused. Your head tilted to the side, brows furrowed deeply as your mouth hung half-open.

"Take my hand, dear," Ahk said as he held out his own hand, which you gingerly took.

Your grip remained as gentle as you could manage, a habit you grew after accidentally hurting Ahk, but the habit had you nearly slipping and cracking your skull further.

"Woah there," Phillip said, instinctually zipping over to catch you. "Just – sit on the rocks."

Although you didn't understand, Ahk made sure to motion to you, and you reluctantly sat on the rocks. Your face scrunched up as your pant soaked from waist to ankles. With a little help, you swung your legs over.

"Alright, good?" Phillip asked the group at large, looking to each of you. When he received all nods, he continued onwards to the nearing grove of trees, searching carefully for any dips in the terrain.

"How are you, my dear?" Ahk asked to only you, his voice a murmur in your ear. He leant in to speak more secretively, an action that made you giggle, which in turn brought a smile to his face. Of course you couldn't verbally respond, so instead you gently headbumped him in the shoulder.

The same questions as always rang in his head as he watched you, wondering if you understood any part of him at all. It was clear by now there was something in your head––you had learned the word for hunger, and you showed affection to him specifically. Was that because he was a safe space, or because you loved him? He tried to never contemplate it, as it was likely he would never get answers, even if he wanted nothing more than that.

"Alright, so, we're looking for trees that can support magic. It's relatively easy to test it," Phillip said, ducking beneath the unavoidable branches to continue through the grove. "Just concentrate your magic into the tip of your finger and put it to the tree. If it leaves a burn mark, it isn't magic, but if the light flows through the bark, it works with magic. It'll look a bit like glowing veins."

"You'd know all about that," Amy mumbled beneath her breath.

"What was that?"

"Nothing," she said, and he didn't pry further.

"Um, Phillip?" Ahk said slowly, raising a single brow as he scanned the forest. "How do we, um, consecrate magic?"

"Concentrate," Amy corrected.

"What? I thought you could. You're a cursed mummy, why wouldn't you have magic?" Phillip said with a frown.

"I don't have it either," Amy said, raising her hand slowly, reluctant to meet his eye.

"You're – okay, alright, it's fine. I suppose I'll... just have to check myself," he grumbled, cursing under his breath as he turned back to the woods.

"So how do we do the magic?" Ben asked quietly once Phillip had left earshot.

"Unless you come from sorcerers, we don't," said Amy.

"What's sorcerers?" Ahk asked, and although he hadn't meant to, Amy began to grow irritated.

"A type of person who uses magic. Come on, let's catch back up," she said, expertly pulling the conversation off of her, and onto the path ahead.

He didn't remember when you stopped touching him, or when Winchester had disappeared from sight, but as he looked behind him panic filled his lungs. You were not there. Actually, you weren't anywhere in sight––you, and your cat, had run off.

"Amy!" Ahk said, eyes widening as his face paled. "We've got to find Crayon!"

"Wh- you let them run off?!"

"I thought they were still with me!" Ahk cried, holding his head in his hands as dread dripped from his eyes like tears.

"Ben, go find Phillip. We have to find Crayon," Amy said, and with that Ben sped off, and Amy floated above the trees. "I'll try and find them in this direction. Go fifty paces that way and then come directly back, it won't work if you get lost as well."

"Um – what's paces?"

"Fifty steps or something," she said.

"I'm.. really sorry, what's fifty?"

She sighed but floated back to the ground, patiently taking the time to write it out in Egyptian numerals in the dirt.

"Ohhh," he mumbled. "Thank you."

"Of course. Now go," she said, pushing him back to it.

Paranoia pounded in his heart as he walked, carefully counting the number of steps he took, and carefully keeping in the right direction. Much of his concentration stayed in keeping the right path, but the good rest of it was absorbed in looking for you. He was easy to spot in both day and night with his golden robes. You, on the other hand, blended in nearly everywhere. Perhaps your cat would give you away, but he didn't rely on that happenstance.

Throughout his search he remained in high alert, paying special attention to each of his senses. As much as he wanted to run through the forest, looking for you at every turn, it would do no more than waste his energy and get him as lost as you. So he kept to his pace no matter what his instincts told him, and retraced his steps once he hit 50.

"Any sight of them?" Ahk asked once Amy appeared from among the twisting branches.

"No," she said with a curt sigh. "No sign of the cat, either."

"Damn," he cursed. "Where would they have gone?"

"I don't –"

"AMY??!"

Phillip's voice nearly echoed with the strength of it. Amy just sighed, again, but took off in the direction of the yell. He followed quick after, following her ethereal form through the pines. The two of them soon came to find Phillip and Ben standing beside a tree that, as expected, had glowing tangles of string lining up and down the bark, much like veins.

"Find it?" Ahk asked, panting slightly from the exertion of running.

"Yes, but we've run into a horrible problem," he spluttered, clearly overwhelmed by the whole of the night.

"What's that?" said Amy.

"We forgot the ax," Ben said, hiding his face in his hands in such a way that his voice came out muffled.

"Oh... fuck," she said.

Muffled grumbling dragged him out of the conversation, though seeing as no one else turned, Ahk assumed he was the sole listener. For a moment it sounded like a wild animal, and his heart began preemptively racing in its' cage. Then came movement––the rustling of bushes and trees, footsteps sloshing in the mud as though something was being dragged.

Thick, clotted blood ran down from your mouth, streaking down your shirt and staining both of your hands. Flecks of it had landed all across your torso, coloring the dull mud caked onto the shirt. Winchester stood at your side, looking lovingly up at you, and on your other side you clutched the leg of a creature long-dead.

"Crayon," Ahk whispered out, and the conversation behind him fell silent, all eyes turning to you. No one moved, entranced in the strained breaths heaving your chest up and down.

You made your way forward, passing Phillip and coming to the tree, whose veins still held the eerie glow. Ignoring the sharp needles and branches, you grabbed the trunk. With a mighty shout and a horrible cracking that likened far too much to bones for anyone's comfort, the tree came crumbling down, a victim to the uncontrolled strength of the aggravated undead.

The four watched on in great surprise and mild horror as you turned back around, looking as though you'd done no more than picked up your cat.

"Ahhk..m," you mumbled past blood-soaked lips, shuffling forward. Halfway to him you dropped the leg of what was now clearly a sheep, and soon you bumped into him, leaning part of your frail weight on him.

He didn't react, too flabbergasted to do so. A number of things had him petrified, and all together it was too much––you going missing and then returning, covered in blood no less, and then the part he didn't know what to think of.

You said his name. Out of all the words you could have learned, you decided his name was most important; second to hunger, of course.

"Ummm..."

You hummed, satisfied, and wrapped your arms around Ahk, squeezing him. As much as he wanted to return the affection, you were still covered in blood that was now painting his stomach. Another horrid part was the smell––the raw meat you'd torn into and the half-dry blood beneath your fingernails, paired with the corpse of the sheep, whose white coat was now soaked in both blood and clotted sludge.

"Well... at least Crayon's back," Amy said, gesturing vaguely when Phillip raised his brow. Both were at a loss.

"Sun will rise soon, we need to get the tree back. Ahk," Phillip said, motioning the Pharaoh over, who quickly obeyed.

Phillip stood near the trunk end, split open to expose the raw wood, and Ahk stood at the tip on the other side. Once both were situated, they heaved upwards to balance the weight on each man.

Rain began to pour as the five of you made your way back to the train station, you remaining adamantly at Ahk's side despite his pace being a little too fast. After your massive splurge of strength, your muscles ached, and your mind was beginning to slow. Amy suggested that perhaps you got stronger––both physically and mentally––when you had a decent diet of raw meat.

"Do you think we could get food to them more often, then? Obviously it makes them feel better, so long as you don't exert too much of it at once," Ahk said, eyes narrowing playfully as they fell upon you. You made no sign that you understood but giggled from his expression.

"I don't know, raw meat can –"

"Crayon can just eat my leftovers," Phillip said, grunting as he adjusted the tree beneath his arm.

"Leftovers?" questioned Ahk.

"I get most of my blood from raw meat that you can get from a butcher. The meat'll be a tad pale, but it should work. Might even be less messy," he said.

"/Anything/ would be less messy than that," Ben said as he gestured to you.

"Don't bother about him," Ahk said, swiftly kissing your forehead. "He's just jealous you're stronger than him."

While Ben and Amy stood right outside the train station, guarding the tree, Phillip took you and Ahk down to the town down in the valley. The walk down was long and rainy eough that by the end of it, there was no need to go wash off in the river. Most of the mud and all of the blood had washed away. The only problem left was Ahk's clothes––to remedy that, Phillip gave him his long, sunproof coat, just for the morning.

Warmth finally enveloped him as the three of you entered the tiny hotel, glowing with yellow light but occupied by only a ticking clock and a woman behind the counter. Much of the rainy streets outside were blocked by the overgrowing flowers lining the windowsills. Phillip, using his human skills and human money, booked one of the five rooms available in the whole of the small hotel.

"Don't get much business here, do you?" Phillip asked as he rooted around in his wallet.

"Do, actually," the woman said with a sigh. "Ever since the castle got refurnished, that's the only place people want to stay. Plenty of customers, no business. Been here 50 years and that hasn't changed."

"... my apologies, ma'am."

The cheaper room happened to be the one with no windows which, for Ahk and Phillip, was a win-win. While Phillip could make do in the sunlight, wearing long coats, gloves, and bearing umbrellas, Ahk would not have that freedom. The two of you would have to stay in the little town with your tickets back until the next evening. Phillip left you there to rejoin Amy and Ben, hopefully to find Phil's grandfather and recarve that special violin.

"Nice enough room," Ahk commented once the two of you were left alone.

It wasn't anything grand––of course it wasn't, but it had that certain charm that made it feel quite cozy. An electric heater sat behind the door, and beside it stood a table, two chairs tucked into it and a small clock atop it.

He sat on the bed and you followed, fingering the scratchy blanket placed above soft, worn sheets.

"Don't wander off like that again," he said softly in his native tongue, concern in his tone as he raised your head to look him in the eye. "I get horribly worried about you."

Slowly you raised your hand, coming to rest your palm against his cheek. Your dull eyes, rimmed with red, told him of a sadness you couldn't quite articulate. In its' place you gave what would best substitute the words––a kiss on the forehead so carefully gentle he barely felt it. The way you moved, slow and cautious, made him feel as though he were made of porcelain.

"I feel as though we are the only sane people in the world," he admitted with a smile, blushing from your affection. "That's silly of me, isn't it? For the undead Pharaoh to think he and his undead friend are the sane ones. My old self would find this hilarious."

"Ahhk," you mumbled out, moving attentively till your arms wrapped around his shoulders and neck, your cheek squished against his head. You kept moving, moved to your knees, and soon you were pulling him down to lay on the bed. He laughed and held you back, keeping your fragile form comfortably on top of his chest.

"You are, undoubtedly, one of the kindest creatures I've met," he said, whispered against your temple. Energy was beginning to leave him––/life/ was beginning to leave him, as the sun rose hidden behind the hotel walls.

Since you couldn't manage any more strength for words, you kissed the top of his head once more. As numbness filled his limbs, he tried not to think of the coming hours, how the two of you would be no more than corpses in a bed.

You were the first to stop breathing.

In the next evening the two of you snuck back onto the train, enjoying 10 hours to yourself before you were racing back to Cambridge. The sun would rise soon enough, and neither of you had money for a cab home, thus leaving only one option: sprinting.

The two of you collapsed with laughter as you slammed the door of the library shut behind you, the light of the sun already peering over the horizon.

"Gott sei Dank, you're safe," Phillip said, greeting the both of you with a smile and outstretched arms.

"Phillip, my friend," Ahk said, laughing, "thank you for your jacket. I don't think they would've let me without it."

"Of course!"

"And of the filing?"

"The what?"

Soft violin came from around the hallways of bookcases, filling the room with music just as the fireplace filled the room with warm light. Ahk took your hand, and the three of you made your way to the hearth, Ahk taking his seat on the floor with you, cradled in a swath of blankets. Above the two of you Ben played, dressed in a fitted black and white suit that accentuated the strength of his chest and his lean waist.

"You two have a fun evening?" Amy asked, careful to keep her voice below the volume of the violin.

"Wonderful," he answered for both of you. You nuzzled further into him, and with your head tucked below his chin, the two of you finally relaxed back in your home.

#ahkmenrah x reader #Ahkmenrah #Night at the Museum #rami malek #ahkmenrah x male reader #ahkmenrah x female reader #rami malek character

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theonlygamergost · 3 years

Text

Dream’s new friend -Dream SMP

I am an absolute sucker for Techno/Dream interactions, and them getting locked up together made me want to write about them, so here we are.

English is not my first language so sorry for any grammatical error, I try my best.

~~~~~~~~~~

They have a plan to escape, but it’s slow and very taxing on Dream’s frail body, so Techno tries his best to be a good friend and support him. Spoilers: he only knows how to be an amazing friend.

~~~~~~~~~

Warning! Mention of torture, Swearing

Enjoy~

“Just so you know, I'm not breaking all of the blocks by myself, you're helping” he looked at the half-pig while his hands went in and out of the water, Techno grinned, “You really thought I'd let you do that all by yourself?” he let out a short laugh, “I just needed to exaggerate my inner anarchist and look lazy in front of chat, that's all. We can do a block per person” Dream smiled behind his cracked mask, returning his gaze in front of him. Meditating on thoughts while watching the water break every time he punched.

It had been a few days since Techno last streamed, they had just broken the second block, meaning that Dream was up for the third block. The bell hadn't been touched very much, Techno had ringed it twice to annoy the other man, but that was about it.

“Do you regret asking for the bell instead of freedom?” Dream was sitting not too far at a from Techno, just enough to have privacy while writing, “Not really” the pig-man was punching away the second block, “I mean, it would have been anticlimactic to get out of here in the first stream” Dream sighed, “Is the entertainment of the situation all you care about?” he looked at Techno, slightly annoyed. The men tilted his head, “Not completely, but you have to agree that getting out of here using DreamXD would have drawn even more attention on you, not only from Quackity” he noted, “But from all the server” the man with the dirty white mask looked up, resting his head on the wall behind him, “True…”. The pig-man took a quick glance at the other boy and returned his focus on punching, Dream had followed suit and went back to writing.

Dream had kneeled and started punching the third block approximately twenty minutes ago, Techno was relaxing his tired body by laying sprawled on the floor: he had underestimated how tiring the process was.

“I have been training constantly up until I came here and this has worn me out, so how are you holding up?” He turned his face to the man punching away, who laughed at the question, “I’m not, why do you think I slept so much right after?”.

Oh right, the sight of Dream huddled in a corner popped into his mind, the cellmate stayed dead still and silent for a long while after breaking the first block. Who could blame him though? He had been stuck in this prison for what- six, seven months? Techno doubted the first inmate of this cell trained daily, with the heat of the lava and the constant sweating, even he wouldn’t want to train.

“Well, it’s still admirable that you recovered from a day of punching just by sleeping it off” Dream nodded as a thank you. After a sigh, Techno went back to staring at the ceiling, this wasn’t the best idea he had ever come up with, but hey, it was the only subtle one since he couldn’t use withers and tnt to get out.

He closed his eyes and focused on the various sounds of the lava: boiling, bubbling, it seemed like a soup cooking, but the sound of the liquid flowing down wasn’t normal, he opened his eyes, “Dream, the lava is falling”. The other man stopped punching and got closer to the edge of the cell, as soon as pistons got into motion, he quickly leapt behind the netherite block line and almost got left out, as it raised from the ground. Techno scooted in front of the bell and Dream leaned on the barrier, curious to see who was coming.

Some dreadful minutes after, the lava finally revealed who was visiting: It was none other than Sam.

“Heyyy Sam!” Techno was quick to chirp a greeting, waving excessively. Dream simply gestured a salute, backing away from the netherite blocks and leaning on a wall. The man in armour hopped on the taxi platform and started making his way, still silent. “What brings you here Sam? Maybe you’ve decided to free me?” The pig-man got no reply, just a stare, “Are you here because I have called every book I signed ‘Sub to Techno’? Listen, I can’t really apologize about that-” Sam got closer, still no response. Dream eyed the bell behind his inmate and hoped that the guard wouldn’t get too close, what would even happen if he saw it? He feared nothing good.

The platform reached the cell and Sam stepped on the obsidian, Dream wanted to ask where was Quackity, why he wasn’t coming anymore, maybe Sam was here to torture him in his stead? But he stayed quiet, not wanting to wake up the sleeping lion.

“Oh I got it!” Techno snapped his finger, “You missed us so you came to see us!” Sam sighed as he started to fumble in his inventory, “Don’t be ridiculous Techno” the guard finally spoke, “I came to check if you weren’t trying to escape-” He plopped a bag on the netherite barrier, “And to bring you potatoes. I’ve heard you’re a big fan of them, Technoblade” A smirk slipped though, god was he tired of being teased with the whole ‘Potato lover’ joke.

Sam turned to Dream and went back to rustle in his pocket, “I’ve also brought more journals and some ink for you, Dream.”. He also placed those on the barrier, the man with the white mask got off the wall and placed the bag of food on the floor while also grabbed the stationary, murmuring out a “Thank you”.

The guard looked at the two prisoners again, “You two better not be planning anything. Behave and nothing will happen to you” he said as he hopped back on the platform, and even when it started moving, he was still looking at those two. He only broke sight when he arrived on the other side, took down the netherite barrier and re-activated the lava.

Techno had been sweating throughout the entire meet-up, thankfully, the high temperature disguised his nervousness. Focusing on the slow dripping of the crying obsidian helped him avoid fidgeting or bouncing his leg. Dream was mostly focused on not looking in Techno’s direction too much, to avoid raising suspicion, he also restrained himself to tease or talk back to Sam, even though, thinking about it more clearly, in all the times Sam came to check up on him, he seemed lost in his thoughts, absent…

Both the inmates let out a sigh of relief when the lava-curtain dropped, Dream slid down the wall onto the floor, “I don’t know why he didn’t enter the cell like he usually does, but thank god he didn’t”, Techno let out a shaky breath, “That was pure stress… I thought hiding the bell was going to be easier”.

The two took a break from talking: Techno layed down again, placing an arm on his forehead, meanwhile Dream placed both books and food in their place. When he too sat down, Techno asked: “You should get some sleep before going back to punching” he tilted his head to look at the other man, who replied smiling at the friend’s concern, “Nah” he shook his head, “I don’t want to sleep, but I’ll post-pone punching for a little more” Techno nodded, closing his eyes for a little.

Silence fell again and the bubbling from the lava took over as the main noise, the elder guardian screech renewed their mining fatigue and Dream decided to close his eyes for a minute as well.

_________

The hard ground and the heat that wearing the mask had created were hard to ignore, his body ached a little and he was out of breath, “Oh wow that actually worked”, a faint voice made him realize that his mind was foggy: he had fallen asleep.

Slowly stretching his limbs, letting out a long whine and blinking a couple of times got him a bit more lucid, getting up to a sitting position. Scanning the room he realized his inmate was sitting at the edge of the lava cascade blocking the cell, fumbling with what, he couldn’t see.

“...Mh… Techno…” he mumbled with his morning voice, yawning right after. The friend looked over his shoulder to see a sleepy Dream rubbing his eyes, he smiled, “Good morning dear, I’m cooking you breakfast before you head for work”. The white-mask man smiled, “Very funny Techno…”, he stretched again. “Oh no I’m not kidding, I’m baking the potatoes” he turned to show the crispy tubers in his arms, Dream’s eyes widened. “Oh wow, you really did that” Techno nodded, getting up from his improvized ‘kitchen’, “I was surprised it worked as well honestly”.

The smell of food filled the cell, making the sleepy man’s stomach rumble, they both laughed at the sound: Dream had almost forgotten what hot food tasted like. “Here” Techno threw him a potato, almost dropping it on the ground because of Dream’s rusty reflexes.

He took off his broken mask out of excitement to taste the meal, not realizing his own action, but Techno didn’t stare at him nor asked questions about it, he simply sat down himself and didn’t speak a word, probably the easiest and more natural way he had ever shown someone his face, he silently thanked the other man for not judging him or reacting negatively.

Once he started eating it, a tear almost fell off his eye, the pig-man noticed, “Oh yeah… you’ve been eating them raw for a long time”. The potato expert looked over the hungry and content friend eating away, “I can always do more if you’d like, they taste better cooked either way” and he also took a bite. They ate in silence mostly, a couple of words were exchanged but nothing much.

When Techno (who wasn’t as hungry as Dream) finished his snack, he looked over at the ‘ex toilet’ and got up to sit down next to it, rolling his sleeves up. Dream noticed, “Umf...Whatf awe you doingf?” He asked with his mouth full, making the friend smile, “I’ll start punching so you can rest a little more, we can swap whenever you feel rested and full enough” and he did start punching, Dream nodded, looking at the potato in his hand.

Now he understood why Phil and Wilbur liked Techno so much: who he saw as friends were treated with the utmost respect and care. He glanced over at the pig-man once more. But if you never saw this side of him… how could you even try and trust him? That’s why Quackity was so traumatized…

He squinted, the view of Techno standing between him and Tommy flashed in his mind, Dream’s eyebrows knitted.

Then why did Tommy give away Techno’s kindness for a dying country and people that didn’t care for him?

A deep sigh came from the man in the corner, snapping Dream back to his obsidian cell.

As long as Dream was sincere with Techno. they would have been both down to help the other. He finished munching on his meal. Yes, Techno owed one to Dream, but now that he was alone, with no friends or allies, transforming that debt into a friendship seemed like a gift. A gift Dream would treat with respect and gratitude.

“Thank you Techno…” Techno smiled, allowing a content noise to slip out of him, “What, for cooking a potato?” Dream shook his head even if the pig-man couldn’t see him, “No… For being my friend” the man in question turned to look at the white mask- no, underneath the white mask. “I don’t have a lot of friends myself y’know, I guess you could say we are two lonely dudes keeping each other company”.

Dream giggled, they hadn’t interacted that much until now… but he was sure he was going to enjoy being around him.

#dreamsmp #dreamsmp fanfiction #technoblade #dreamwastaken #awesamdude #fanfiction #my fanfiction #writing #my writing #tw torture mention #dream fanfiction #technoblade fanfiction

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innittowinit · 4 years

Text

Can you pick me up my uni burnt down?

Relationships: Sleepy bois inc (all fics i write are platonic)

Summary: In which Techno goes to England for University, his building catches fire in the night, and he isn't prepared for the difference in climate between England and California. SBI fluff ensues

Words: 1785

Language: English

Ao3 Link

3:30am was when the alarms went off, pulling all of the students out of their dorms and into the bitterness of the night. Techno had barely had enough time to get himself looking decent before someone was pounding on his door and telling him to hurry up, that it wasn’t a drill, and so he pulled on some socks, not even bothering with finding his shoes, and rushed out towards the hallway to see a very distraught looking girl, they had a few classes together but he’d never bothered to learn het name. She was probably going door to door and grabbing all the people who the alarm hadn’t woken, that was sweet, he couldn’t help but feel a bit guilty that she felt she had to stay to wait for him though.

And so now he was standing outside, wearing nothing but a thin t-shirt, some shorts and a pair of socks. Being from california, he hadn’t really been prepared for just how bad nights in the UK could get and now he was paying the price as the icy wind numbed his skin and the snow pelted down like there was no tomorrow. He looked back at the school as an administrator read off names from a register, there were larger than life flames bursting out of windows in the west building.

“Techno Blade? Is Mr Blade here?” “Present!”

After getting himself marked in he was left to himself, sitting on a bench that was wet with newly brushed off snow. Most of the other Students were calling parents or family members to come collect them, which only really filled him with dread. It was just now setting in that the school wasn’t just going to let them back indoors once the firemen handled the fire, he’d have to find somewhere else to stay for the night. It wasn’t exactly as if he could just call his parents to pick him up when he was in a different country completely.

With a sigh, he scrolled through his contact list. He had a lot of friends in the UK but which ones lived the closest and which ones would still be awake at this hour of the night. Tommy was probably the closest but he was not about to ask a 16 year old if he could spend the night at his place. Next was Wilbur, he was about a 30 minute drive away and while he felt absolutely horrible about having to get his friend’s help, he didn’t really have a choice. Hesitantly, he pressed the call button. He wasn’t sure what it was but phone calls gave him so much more anxiety than discord ones, even when he was calling his friend.

After 3 rings, he got an answer.

“Techno!” The brunette’s ever enthusiastic voice chirped, it sounded warm and happy, a stark contrast to the oppressing chill that Techno was enduring right now. “Hellooo..you busy right now?” “Not insanely, I’ve got Phil here helping me with recording the new song though. You good man? Shouldn’t you be asleep? class in the morning and all that” “Yeah about that.. I kinda,, need a place to stay for the night?” he sucked in his breath, anticipating rejection, he hated asking for help like this, it made him feel so weak. “The school is sorta up in flames” “Say the line Techno, it’ll be funny. Say it and i'll come get you” “...wow i wonder if it’s a baby boy or a baby girl”

With a hearty laugh he heard some rustling on the other side of the phone, he heard Phil's voice too but it wasn’t clear. He guessed Will was telling him what had happened anyway. After a while Wilbur spoke to him again. “Phil’s gonna drive out to get you since his car’s heating actually works, you better fit into the same clothes as me since I'm sending him with a change for you. Maybe see if you can wait inside a shop or something while he’s driving; because of the snow, i’d say maybe like 45 minutes till he’s there”

Techno nodded, taking a few seconds to realise that his friends couldn’t actually see him. “Yeah, thanks Will, i’ll let you get back to your song now”

He took his phone away from his ear but he really wished he hadn't, without his friends keeping him company the only thing he had to focus on was how painstakingly cold it was. His arms and legs were both bright red, aching to move them at all, god he regretted his pyjama choice. Pulling his knees up to his chest, feet rested on the bench, then wrapped his arms around his legs, desperate for any kind of warmth as he shivered endlessly. Techno wasn’t quite sure what it was about the cold but it always made him feel very sleepy, that mixed with it being so late at night wasn’t really helping at all

Head pounding, he looked back down to his phone, it was hard to move his fingers and the snow kept wetting his screen, but at least it was a distraction, something he could keep his mind on for at least some of the long 45 minute wait.

======================== ========================

Techno hadn’t even realised it when Phil arrived, he was glad the School administrators were on top of things because he would have just left him sitting there had it not been for a woman that came over to tell him his ‘dad’ was here to get him. Opening his mouth, he intended to spout off about how he wasn’t related to Phil but decided against it. He didn’t want to pick up a fuss and plus, the warm car was right there!

He got up off the bench, only really having his phone with him, and made his way to his friend’s car, his face made an expression of discomfort as he had to walk through the snow in wet socks but at least he’d be warm soon.

Phil had already laid a towel out on the seat, sighing in relief, Techno collapsed into the car. Only now realising this was the first time he was meeting his friends in real life. “I’m guessing i got the right guy then?” Phil chuckled, passing Techno a towel to dry off his hair with. “God you must be freezing with that outfit. We can sit here for a bit while you get comfortable”

Though he wasn’t talking an awful lot, Techno was incredibly grateful, here and back meant Phil had to drive over an hour. He’d have to remember to pay him back for gas. “Thanks Phil” he sighed, ruffling his hair with a towel, it felt so much better to be able to dry off and warm up again.

Next he was given a hoodie and some joggers, which Phil promised to close his eyes as he changed into them. The hoodie was fine, it was about the size he would usually buy for himself, but he had to admit the bottoms were a bit long; he’d always thought of himself as tall but didn’t Wilbur claim to be 6’5? Yeah he was sure he wasn’t going to be the tallest there by a couple inches.

The drive back to Wilbur’s was peaceful, they stopped in the Starbucks drive-through to grab them both a warm drink, and while Techno wasn’t really the kind of person to frequent Starbucks, he wasn’t in any position to deny warmth right now. He ended up just getting a hot chocolate, bundling himself up in the seat with the blanket Wilbur had sent with Phil, and finally feeling content. He had imagined meeting his friends so many times, he always imagined he’d end up getting overwhelmed and needing to step out but right now he just felt genuinely happy, he felt cared for. He knew if he was back at home right now, while his parents would have still come for him, they would have complained the entire time about how he was old enough to figure it out for himself, he certainly wouldn’t have been given dry clothes and a blanket.

“You’re really nice Phil” Mumbled a very very sleepy Techno, eyes glazed over as he tried his hardest to stay awake for the entire ride.

Phil just chuckled, the GPS said they were nearly at will’s, he was sure he’d want to see Will before falling asleep anyway, plus he didn't think he’d be strong enough to carry him in. “You gotta stay up a little longer for me mate, we’re almost there, i know you’d usually be sleeping at this time”

Arriving at Wilbur's house felt a little weird, opening the car door hit him with a strong breeze that only seemed to make him even more delirious as he tried to figure out how to stand up without dropping his blanket on the floor. Eventually he got it, bundling it up in his arms he gave a big yawn, becoming a little more awake as he tried to push the sleep away. No matter how much he wanted to just go straight to bed he knew he’d need to talk to his friend first, it would be a little rude to come to his home and not even speak to him.

Since Techno’s hands were full with the blanket that had been wrapped around him, Phil grabbed his towel and wet clothes before locking the car and leading the way inside; by this time it was past 4 in the morning and he was sure they were all just exhausted.

Honestly he wasn’t sure what he had expected Wilbur’s house to look like, it was clean he supposed. Listen, he was an English major, not some kind of house furniture major, he didn't really care what Wilbur had in his home.

“Hey mate, got Tech’” Phil stated as he flopped down on the sofa, leaving Techno to sit on the other side of Will, who had been watching some kind of movie, it looked like maybe it could be one of those sappy musical lovey dovey ones but he really didn’t care that much.

“How you doing Techno Blade?” Will yawned, laying his legs over Techno’s lap and his head on Phil's shoulder.

“Not too bad Wilbur Soot, what are you watching?” Another yawn, he ran a hand through his pink hair, chucking his crown onto the floor as he unfolded the blanket he had been snuggled into during the car ride, spreading it out across the three men.

“No clue, just wanted to wait up for you” The brunette closed his eyes, still awake but barely

“You're an idiot”

#sbi #sleepyboisinc #sleepyblr #technoblade #philza #wilbur soot #fanfic

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redbirdbella · 4 years

Text

@clintasha-week Advent calendar Day 9 - Emotions

Very angsty. CW - guns, illusions to suicide, Avengers Assemble canon character death, drug use, talk of mind control. (If there's any more please tell me but those are the ones i can see.)

It takes Natasha 45 minutes to decide Clint's been alone long enough.

It takes two weeks for her to find him.

Phil's funeral had been tough on everyone, her archer especially. He'd been a broken man, tears staining his cheeks as he carried the casket. Natasha to his left, holding his hand as she helps bear the weight.

Barton, Romanoff, Rogers, Hill, Fury and May carrying the weight of a brother, a comrade and a true patriot July 1964 til May 2012 (or at least that's what the grave will say).

She gives him space, room to grieve, to bury his head into his hands and weep until shes worried he'll shrivel up. Like he'll faint from dehydration like when he was hungover that one time in Vegas. Happier times. Hill supplies the tissues and Steve the rousing speech. It's tasteful, Phil would appreciate it. But there's no flowers to hide the casket, just his stupid Captain America trading cards on, the ones that make Natasha's heartbreak.

Clint asks for space. After it's all over, once the coffins gone behind the red velvet curtains and the music plays. She agrees, resigned to him running. She can play the game. Follow where he leads.

Two weeks. Two damn weeks it takes. Europe, the Americas, Africa. She even checks in with Barney. The infamous Hawkeye is gone with the wind.

She goes on a whim. On a shadow of a memory of Tokyo. Of him stitching her up. Of safety and warm alcohol. A disconnected safehouse. Off the grid. Shelter, nothing more.

It's not there, replaced by a luxury high-rise. Last few units remaining the realtor declares. Great, he'll be near the top then.

She hacks the database. It's easy enough. Flat 804.

It's quiet. Eerily so, and she prays to whatever deity will listen to not have another funeral so soon.

She knocks hard, demanding a reply, but she's no surprised when no one answers.

Simple locks make simple work, the door creaking open in spite of her pleas for quiet.

He's up and in the doorway. He's armed, fingers gripping to his old Glock. Simple, effective but not if he looks so indecisive. Like its somehow difficult choosing between the intruder and himself.

"Clint" She whispers, pressing a kiss to the side of his mouth letting his stubble scratch against her, "It's ok. Just me."

"Tasha" he breathes, taking her head into his hands. She holds them, noticing the way they shake, the way it makes it easy to dispossess him. Too easy. She notices the razor burn on his cheeks like he'd tried, tried to find himself amongst the rubble, "He's- I'm- I've fought so hard Tasha"

"I know, you've been so brave, but you don't have to be. I'm here, together yeah?"

He nods, letting her push her way into the apartment. The way she moves past the bottle piles and cracked walls with an effortless grace ignoring the smell of BO and alcohol. The lingering stench of rock bottom.

"Let's get you clean huh?"

He nods leading her to the bathroom. The flat has a bath graciously untouched and running hot water that leaves Natasha whispering a silent thank you to the powers that be.

She's well packed, well versed in Clint and all his emergencies. Magnesium enriched Epsom salts with lavender and chamomile, to soothe his sores and the anxious energy in his muscles. Clint recognises the box and nods reluctantly.

"Want to put some in?"

He doesn't, but he doesn't stop her adding a healthy amount. He strips down without her request, he isn't scared of being naked. Not with her. She's seen worse. She's seen the bodies on the floor, even helped organise the men that had taken Phil away, leaving the red smudge that seemed to imprint into his mind.

"Hey" She whispers kindly as if the past didn't hang so heavy between them "the water should be warm enough now. Go on, it won't bite"

He nods and steps in, if only to see her smile his last connection to humanity reflected back to him.

"Should we lay down?" She asks but she's already slowly lowering herself letting her arm dangle into the water.

He follows her. A little less steady but it's a start. She kisses his head, "Whatever you're on its strong"

Clint shrugs. Not strong enough.

"How long?"

"How long?" Natasha echos "long enough that I've missed you"

"No, how long in here?"

"Until I say so"

There's no quip just a nod and Natasha's heart breaks just a little more. She clings to the outside of the bath under his watchful gaze, humming songs she remembers from better times. Before gods and monsters and mayhem.

It takes a while for the salts to work their magic, making his limbs grow heavier, back to his control. The bath should be cool, if Natasha hadn't constantly refilled bringing it back to a good temperature. The one that melts the trickster god's ice.

"There, I've got something to get you dry" She whispers when he stands, requesting to be let out. She'd got it at the airport, so it's still fluffy with its new novel smell. He wraps it around his waist and she throws his clothes into the water left in the tub. Cleaning the air of the smell and giving him no choice but to choose the fresh clothes she's brought. He agrees to the pants, black with a purple stripe out the outside leg, the pair he always wore for long nights in.

"That's better" Natasha praises, directing him to the toilet, seat down, "you tried to shave-"

"I look like him" oh the original him. Barton Snr. The only man she hated more than Loki.

"I only see my partner" she whispers pressing another kiss to his cheek, "let me show you-"

She brings out a kit. A long-forgotten kit, one that only comes out for him. Her Barbers kit from her time attending to the soldiers. It's not the same, her tools had been blunted through use but the idea is still there. Buried deep through countless repetition.

Clints not like the soldiers. Even now he fidgets putting himself at her mercy. It's a long process, a Turkish shave, but each time it's worth it for the way he smiles, blushing under her tender touches. It's different this time, there's no more smiles but he shuts his eyes letting himself be pampered.

"There." She whispers placing a mirror into his hands once the act is done "There you are. Back again"

He nods, avoiding the man that glances back at him and she places her hands against the back of his neck.

"You cant ever ask for space again"

He nods.

"Not until I say so"

He nods. He's taken something, something strong. Detoxing will be a bitch but that was tomorrows battle.

"Bed?"

He doesn't nod, but he doesn't object either just leads her there as if she just wanted to see it. To check for proof of its existence.

There's no more fresh sheets, but the spare bedrooms untouched. Natasha's doubt's he'd left the living room much, not in this state.

He lays on the bed and waits for her to follow. Then he surrounds her, hands desperate to touch, to reassure his trembling grip on reality.

"I'm here. I'm here" she soothes

"You've been here before" he counters.

"Not like tonight"

He's quiet until he can't contain anymore "They took my mind"

"And I took it back"

"I killed him.

"Loki killed him. You were with me"

He nods, "You would have saved him."

"I made my choice"

"It wasn't your choice to make!"

They settle into the silence that follows. She doesn't expect an apology, she doesn't need one. She knew what it was like for someone to take your brain and play.

"Did you really think I wouldn't know you? That I wouldn't come looking" She whispers "I fought a god for you."

"And do you like your prize?"

"Now you sound like him"

"Cause he's still in there! I'd blow a hole in my head to let him out! to make it stop!"

"Don't- I need you" She's not beyond pleading, not for Clint.

He's quiet, until the tears come. They burn his freshly shaved skin so she stems them, blotting them out with her fingers.

"I'm here, it's ok" she's writing cheques she can't cash, making promises she can't keep "It can stop now, let me take it from here"

She offers out her arms as he'd done all those years before. His arms were bigger. It wasn't such a tight fit but her skills lay elsewhere. She lets her hands creep down his bareback. Recalling every last detail she can remember about her massage class back in Russia, when they'd promised her only gentle hands could wiggle out secrets. Before they corrected the lie.

He startles as she begins, if the sobs that shudder against her shoulder are any indication.

She shhs him, cradling him like a child

"It's just me"

She draws circles against his back, letting him strain away when she touches somewhere tender.

"Please, please don't fight me like you do him"

She lets her own tears slip away as he surrenders to her touch, feeling each muscle relax against her.

Until he surrenders to the deep sleep that pulls him under.

There's no more need to fight, for she grants him rest.

#clintasha advent 2020 #clintasha angst #clintasha #idk guys #is it good or am i just having a breakdown

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ohmygarlands · 4 years

Text

Just a Memory

Gene’s body moved fluidly, rocking back and forth over his wife as they made love. The warm light on the bedside table illuminated Betsy beautifully, and he couldn’t help but keep his eyes on hers. It had been weeks since they were intimate. Gene enlisted in the Naval Air Service and was stationed in D.C. He would come home on a pass when he could depending on whether or not he was needed. In many ways, the time apart wound up strengthening his relationship with Betsy. They had hit troubled waters a while back when Judy had entered their lives:

While filming For Me & My Gal, it was widely speculated among gossip columns - which didn’t take long to reach the people they knew - that Judy and Gene shared more than just a close friendship. Their affair did indeed go on both during and for a little while after filming. The love they shared, however, was real and for many reasons, it scared both of them to death. Both were married, and Gene had a new baby at home. He loved Betsy, and always had but there was something different about Judy. Judy aroused not only his body but his soul. She could keep him in a trance whenever they were together, one that would linger for hours after she had left. It brought him to his knees when he had to make the decision to take the moral high ground, parting ways with Judy to focus on his family. Begrudgingly, Judy let him off the end of her line. While Gene’s marriage was thriving, however, hers had faded to dust. It wasn’t long after that that her and David separated, and she found herself single and in the snakepit of Hollywood.

Though Gene’s marriage was thriving, it was no easy path. One does not simply move on from Judy Garland. Her memory lingered in his mind, her voice would come through his car radio every night on his drive home from the studio, they were busy on opposite ends of the lot shooting two different films yet would somehow always manage to stop by the commissary at the exact same time. It was as though he was drawn to her like a magnet, like there was some kind of invisible string attaching them both at the waist and no matter how many times he tried to cut it, it wouldn’t break.

It took enlisting in the Naval Air Service for the pain of missing her to finally subside. Even then, it was still there, it just became easier to deal with. His mind was elsewhere and he began missing Betsy more and more, every day that he was away. The love letters he once used to exchange with Judy, he was now exchanging with his wife. Her letters were the highlight of his day, he craved to hear how Kerry was getting along and Betsy never failed to include photos.

His body buckled on top of hers and he leaned down, placing a soft kiss against her cheek.

“Alright, that settles it… you’re staying in D.C. indefinitely,” Betsy panted with a sly smile.

“What do you mean?” He rolled off of her, pulling a cigarette off the nightstand.

“The way you make love when you’re home on a pass, I’ve been married to you for years, I’ve never felt anything like it,” she grinned.

Gene laughed, taking a drag from his cigarette before turning his expression serious, “There are no women there, Bets… I only have men to look at, day in and day out, you’ll be lucky if we leave this bed all weekend.”

“Good,” she softly smiled, dragging her arm over his waist and cuddling into his chest, “except…” she began.

“What?” He asked, blowing another cloud of smoke from his lips.

“There’s… a chance I may have… accidentally… on purpose… told everybody you were home this weekend,” she bit her thumbnail.

Gene sighed, “Where are we going?” He rolled his eyes playfully.

“A bunch of your pals from the studio are going out to Ciro’s tomorrow night, I told them we’d be there to have a drink and a few laughs.”

“That doesn’t sound too terrible,” he smiled.

“They’re very excited to see you.”

Gene’s curiosity peaked, he stubbed out his cigarette before scooching back down on the bed, “who’s ‘they’?”

“Oh, you know, everybody… Pete, Frank, Phil…”

“I see,” he lowered his eyes, “Well, it’s a date then. I guess I’ll make an exception for them,” he grinned, rolling over and kissing her passionately.

The next evening, once Kerry was settled with the babysitter, Gene and Betsy made a swift exit, heading towards Beverly Hills. He drove with one hand on the steering wheel and one holding her fingers between his. Betsy couldn’t help but smile at her husband’s affections. She couldn’t remember the last time he was so attentive to her.

Gene took Betsy’s coat along with his and checked it before they headed into the club. Immediately, his eyes were drawn to a big table in the corner with a crowd of familiar faces shouting to him. He flashed that charming smile of his and with Betsy on his arm, made his way to the group.

“Well, look who the cat dragged in!” Phil Silvers teased, jumping from his chair.

“Hey you big lug!” Gene matched his excitement.

“Good to see ya! How the hell have you been?” Phil pulled out a chair for him and before Gene could answer, a cute blonde waitress appeared behind him looking for his drink order. He ordered a beer for himself and a glass of Chardonnay for Betsy.

“So they decided to let you free for a few days, huh?”

“Oh, the National Guard couldn’t keep me from coming home, my friend!” He said, putting his arm around Betsy.

“Well, you look better than ever! The Navy agrees with you!” Lucille Ball chimed in, exhaling smoke from her cigarette.

“Thank you,” he bowed his head.

“So what’ve they been keeping you busy with out East?” Frank asked.

“Well, it was a fight at first but I was stationed in the photographic section of the Air Service, I’m in charge of writing and directing various projects, in fact I just put the finishing touches on a training video I’ve been working before I came home. It’s called Combat Fatigue Irritability. The title is self explanatory…” He trailed off, it was a particularly heavy piece of material.

“Wow, you just can’t get away from the camera can you? You run off to join the Navy and you’re still stuck making pictures!”

“Now, come on, he can’t help it with a face like that!” Phil tossed his arm around his neck, pulling him in to give him a noogie. When Gene managed to break free, he cradled the base of his beer, twirling it around in his hand as he continued to laugh. The group had trailed off into another conversation with Betsy and when Gene looked up again, his wide smile quickly vanished.

There she was. There she fucking was. He wondered as he and Betsy were getting ready to leave if he would see Judy tonight. Ciro’s was practically a second home to her when they were together, he knew there would be a solid chance they’d meet again. But as prepared as he thought he was to see her, he couldn’t have imagined it would feel this way. His eyes were glued to her as the rest of the world seemingly faded away and she walked in slow motion with the arm of another gentleman around her waist. Her flowing hair - which was much darker than he remembered it, a little shorter too - bouncing at her shoulders, that unmistakable laugh echoing in his mind. His eyes drifted out of curiosity to the man who held her by the waist, it was Joe Mankiewicz, a relatively well known writer and producer at the studio. He was also known to be a bit of a leech... and to be a bit married. Gene could feel his jaw tighten as he curled his hands into a fist under the table when he saw Joe’s hand slide further down Judy’s backside as he led her to the bar.

That’s not my beautiful girlfriend, he thought to himself.

She is not mine anymore, he repeated in his head.

Betsy glanced over at her husband, immediately noticing his transfixed stare. When she looked in the direction he was, her own heart fell to her stomach. Judy Garland was a name she had heard all too often over the last two years. When the gossip columnists began writing about their suspected affair, everyone on the block was calling her. She couldn’t bring herself to believe the rumours but something about Gene’s demeanour changed when she was around. He became an empty shell when he was at home, even going so far as to flinch whenever Betsy would touch him. At the time, she chalked it up to the heavy pressure the studio was putting on him. They were both new to Hollywood, he wasn’t used to the schedules he kept. With that in mind, Gene managed to convince her the rumours were just that, a rumour. When Gene began to return to his normal self, she dared question it. She had been waiting for him to look at her again the way he used to, with his devoted love and admiration. But his expression now was one she had never seen before.

“Mr. Kelly, Earth to Kelly…” Frank interjected, waving his hand in front of his face, snapping him out of his reverie.

“What?”

“You ok? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Frank turned to look where he had been and when he saw Judy, it all came together. Frank was one of the only people who knew of their affair. It wasn’t his choice though, he had walked in on them fooling around in an empty rehearsal hall. From that day forward, he had acted as a scapegoat and alibi when he was needed, and tonight he delivered just the same. He glanced over at Betsy and immediately drew her attention away from Gene, making small talk about FDR being reelected president.

Gene sat stone faced, holding his beer in his hands. His eyes had lost sight of Judy but she was racing a mile a minute in his mind. The large nightclub suddenly felt like a tiny room with the walls slowly caving in. He frantically pulled a cigarette out of his pocket and when he felt Betsy’s hand land on his thigh under the table, he leapt up from his chair.

“What’s wrong?” She asked, knowing full well what the problem was but choosing to ignore the screaming voice in her head.

“I’m just going out for a smoke, it’s hot in here, isn’t it hot in here? I’ll be back…” He explained, darting for the entrance to the back patio.

He leaned over the railing, allowing the smoke to fall freely from his lips. The wind blew unseasonably hot that night, he could feel it stinging his face as he looked out onto Sunset Blvd. Gene had dated his fair share of women before Betsy came along, he had experience with ex girlfriends… but this, for some strange reason, felt like uncharted territory. What was this hold she had on him?

“I thought that was you,” her voice emanated from behind him. He closed his eyes for a moment before he could muster up the courage to turn around.

“Surprise,”

Judy took a few steps closer, placing herself in front of the railing beside him. She fished her own cigarette out of her purse and when she struggled with her lighter, Gene flicked his, placing the flame at the end of her smoke.

“Thanks,”

Gene nodded, shoving it back in his pocket.

“So what’s your excuse?” He asked.

“My what?”

“Your excuse for smoking outside. What did you tell him?”

Judy glanced down at her hands that gripped the wooden handrail, “Same as yours, needed some air.”

“How do you know that was mine?”

“Because I know you,”

“Joseph Mankiewicz, huh?” He said, staring forward.

“Stop it.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“I know a judgmental tone when I hear one. You have absolutely no right, so don’t you dare say another word.”

“You know he’s married, right?”

Judy paused for a moment before she answered him, “That never stopped you.”

“Touche,”

“Besides, you know nothing about him or us so why don’t you stay out of it?”

“Maybe I’m out of line here, Judy, but just what exactly are you doing?”

“What are you talking about?”

“With him? I know who Joe is, I know YOU know who Joe is, are you… are you together? What is that?” He asked, gesturing towards the door that led back into the club.

“He loves me, he promised to marry me just as soon as he knows his wife is taken care of. She’s sick, you know.”

“Yes, I know. That’s so fucked up, Judy. You’re so fucked up.”

“Remember when you said you might be out of line?” She sneered.

“Do you truly believe anything he says?”

“Why do you care?! Why do you care if I believe what he says? Why do you care if we’re together?”

“I don’t… know, I don’t know why I care. I just, I fucking hate that guy and I know you’re better than that, you’re better than him. This is not who you are.”

“Who am I, darling?”

Gene looked away, turning his attention to another couple slow dancing to the faint music coming from inside on the other end of the patio.

“Look at me!”

Slowly, he turned to meet her gaze, “I don’t know who you are anymore, Garland. How could I?”

“Look, I’m happy for you. I know you’ve been getting along with Betsy, that was your goal wasn’t it? To put your family back together, and you have. I’m so fucking happy for you, I could just vomit. Now why don’t you give me the same respect, huh?”

“I’m trying,” he replied softly, “I got over you, Judy. I’m over you.”

Judy leaned in closer to him, her chin nearly resting on his shoulder, “No you’re not.”

Just then, Betsy came out onto the patio in search of her husband. The door swinging open caused them both to turn around.

“Betsy!” Judy exclaimed enthusiastically with a wide smile.

“Hello…” she said softly, her eyes locked on Gene.

“So nice to see you again!” The over delighted tone in Judy’s voice made Gene wince.

“You too,” she said, accepting a half hug.

“Well, listen, I better get back to my date. Lovely chatting with you again, Gene. I’ll see you around, huh?”

“Yeah,” he said, facing forward again.

Betsy replaced Judy at the railing and she looked at her husband, searching for answers she didn’t want to hear. Gene took the last drag from his cigarette before flicking it over the balcony, feeling Betsy’s inquisitive gaze.

“Shall we go back inside?” He asked, ignoring the tension between them.

“I think I’d like to go home,”

“Go home? Bets, we just got here barely an hour ago.”

“If you don’t mind…”

Gene and Betsy drove down Sunset, heading towards Rodeo. Betsy leaned forward, drowning the silence by turning on the radio. She fiddled with the dial until she landed on a rerun of a Bob Hope comedy special. As soon as she leaned back in the seat, Judy’s voice came through the speaker singing I Never Knew I Could Love Anybody the Way I’m Loving You. In true Garland fashion, she was following them again. Hovering over their marriage like an ominous cloud. Betsy glanced at her husband and immediately noticed that jaw tighten again before he changed the channel.

“Why did you turn that off?” She asked, accusingly.

“I’ve heard it before,” he replied with a blank tone.

The air was silent between them for a moment.

“Did you sleep with her?” She blurted.

“What?” Gene almost swerved into the oncoming lane.

“Gene!”

“I’m sorry, why did you ask me that?”

“Because I’m not daft, Gene. I wasn’t born yesterday. I saw the way she looked at you, and even worse, the way you looked at her. You’re a different person when she’s around. I don’t like you when she’s around, and I don’t like you right now.”

“How am I different, Bets? Because I wanted to leave the club?”

“You haven’t looked me in the eye since I saw you standing outside with her. You’re afraid to, you’re hiding.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,”

“Listen, things have been going really well between us over the last year, I’m happy with you now and there was a time when I wasn’t. I don’t want to move backwards, Gene… I don’t want to be scared of coming in second anymore.”

“Betsy! You’re not second, I thought we were past this. I thought you didn’t believe those damn Hopper columns.”

“I will only ask you once more and then I promise to drop this… Did you or did you not have an affair with her?”

Gene thought for a moment, torn over his answer. He pulled the car over, turned off the ignition and looked her straight in the eye.

“No,” he said defiantly, “I did not sleep with her, we did not have an affair.”

Betsy smiled relieved, placing her hand on his cheek. His skin felt hot to the touch. The accusations of their affair took him back to a painful time that he wanted to remain in the past.

“Thank you,”

“Can we go home now?” He asked, placing his hand on top of hers.

When Gene returned to Washington, he continued to repair his relationship with Betsy but it wasn’t long before Betsy began to pull back. Her letters to him became further and further apart, and with a full workload, it was easy for Gene to get swept up in his duties. He couldn’t pay attention to what was happening back home, there was only so much he could do from afar.

One evening, he returned to his barracks with a letter in hand. He hadn’t bothered to look at the envelope, he assumed it was from Betsy and he was beyond tired after working a fourteen hour stretch. He flopped down on the cot and tore the letter open, tossing the envelope onto the blanket beside him. His heavy eyes flew wide open when he noticed the slanted handwriting he was all too familiar with.

Gene,

I agonized over writing this letter. What can I say? Where do I begin?

I know how you love to be right about everything – so I’m sure you’ll get a kick out of knowing you were right about everything regarding Joe. He doesn’t love me. Did I ever really love him? I don’t think so. Know how I know? I’m not all that upset. When you broke up with me, I cried for days. I barely shed a tear for Joe. What does that mean? I shouldn’t be asking you that. That’s not fair… I know our ship has sailed. Remember when I told you you weren’t over me? I know that you are. I know you’ve moved on. I can see it in your eyes, I could see it in the way you looked at me that night. It’s me, Gene. I’m the one who couldn’t move on. I think about you every time the phone rings, I think about you every time I play a record, you’re a constant white noise in my head and I don’t know how to stop it. I wish I could turn it off, but I can’t. I meant it when I said I was happy for you, darling, truly I did. But when do I get to be happy? When is it my turn? If only you could show me how.

Gene’s grip tightened on the letter. He turned the paper over expecting there to be more, but the sheet was blank. He flipped it back over, raising an eyebrow at its abrupt end. She always signed off on her letters.

Arriving home after another late night at Ciro’s with the girls, Judy trudged up to her bedroom. Tossing her shall onto the chaise lounge, she walked over to her vanity to grab a pack of cigarettes before changing into her night clothes. Her eyes were immediately drawn to an empty spot on the desk just below her mirror. The spot she was sure she had left the letter she wrote to Gene. She dropped the pack of cigarettes and her heart plummeted into her stomach. She tore through the vanity, checking in every little drawer and under a pile of magazines she kept. It was nowhere to be found. She had a few too many to drink that night at Ciro’s and for a moment she couldn’t remember if maybe she had moved it. She darted downstairs, tearing through the living room, in her bookshelves, on the fireplace. It had to be here somewhere she thought.

“Miss Garland?” Her housekeeper who often stayed the night to keep Judy company came in, barely awake, “What are you doing?”

Judy swung around, trying to remain composed, “Uhm.. I’m, just, I’m looking for something.”

“May I help?”

“No, no, you go on back to bed… I know it’s here some place.”

“What is it you’re looking for?”

“It was a letter I had on my desk, it’s gone.”

“Oh,” Pearl laughed, “Darling, I mailed it out for you earlier today. You were out of stamps but I took it to the post office along with a few other pieces I had.”

“You WHAT?!” Judy held her hands over her face as she felt every limb go numb.

“You didn’t want it mailed?”

“No, I didn’t want it mailed, Pearl! ...Oh my God, I think I’m going to faint,” she breathed, pacing back and forth before falling into the armchair. “Alright, well you mailed it today? Maybe there’s a way I can get it back. I can go first thing in the morning, I can have the post office retrieve the letter for me.”

“Why don’t you get some sleep, huh? Don’t panic. I’m sure it’ll be just fine.”

When Judy arrived at the Post Office the next morning before her early call at the studio, she was told the mail had been sent out the previous afternoon and there was no way to intercept delivery. With her heart in her throat, all she could do was accept her fate. Gene would receive the letter – the letter that was only meant to be written, not sent.

As each day passed without a response, her anxiety raised. Luckily, she was catapulted into work on The Harvey Girls and was in the midst of recording an album for Decca Records which acted as a temporary distraction. Her personal life inadvertently took a backseat to her professional one.

It felt like a year had passed, but it had only been a month since the letter had been sent. She was filming on an exterior train set, recording In the Valley (Where the Evenin’ Sun Goes Down). The crew were mesmerized, her voice came through louder than the playback, even for such a soft song. The day she filmed a musical number was always a favourite for anyone who worked with her. Standing in a darkened area by an unused camera in the back of the sound stage, Gene watched her as she leaned back against the train. He couldn’t take his eyes from her, she had never looked more beautiful than she did in that very moment. He wasn’t sure if maybe it was because he hadn’t seen her in months or if because she truly had never been more beautiful. Once again, she looked different, as she always did when there had been a significant absence between them. She looked more mature, he thought.

The song came to a close and when George called cut, Judy leapt off the train set and made her way to the director’s chair to discuss an idea on how she could improve the last shot. Gene stepped out from the back of the sound stage, his hands in his pockets as he slowly walked towards her. Judy was so focused on a particular idea that it took a few moments for her eyes to raise over George’s shoulder. When finally she saw him heading her direction with such a warm demeanour, she softly smiled a smile that matched his. She was confused to see him. She hadn’t been made aware, even in her social circle that he was home again. Judy politely excused herself from the director and began walking towards him.

“Hi,” he grinned.

“What are you doing here?” She asked in a warm tone.

“I’m home for a while… I heard you singing.”

“You know, you’re not allowed on a closed set,” she teased.

“I couldn’t help it. Your voice is magnetizing.”

Judy lowered her stare to the floor between them, the thoughts raced through her mind a mile a minute. She wanted to come right out and ask him if he received her letter but she couldn’t bear to face it. He hadn’t said a thing about it, he never even bothered to answer – maybe he never received it, she thought… and hoped. She remembered a few times her letters to David had been misdelivered when he served.

“I’ll be home for a good long while,” he began again, speaking softly, “and I’d like to see you.”

“You would?”

“If that’s alright with you, of course.”

“Of course.”

Judy was promptly called back to the set but before she turned to leave, she asked him to stick around for another take, explaining that she thought she messed up somewhere in the outro. Gene agreed to stay, anything to keep his eyes on her even for just a few minutes more. He reached down and took her hand in his, running his thumb over her knuckles before she turned and walked back to set.

Judy nailed the next take from start to finish. She often credited Gene for giving her her strength and confidence. She always performed her best when he was in the vicinity. As the A.D. helped her off the train all the while singing her praises, Judy only desired and eagerly anticipated Gene‘s thought. When she came around the train set, her exuberance fell the moment she realized the spot he was standing in was now empty. She glanced around the sound stage but he was nowhere to be found.

It was nearly 10:30pm when Judy was finally dismissed. After changing into her street clothes, she walked tiredly to the parking lot with a cigarette in hand daydreaming of slipping into her pyjamas and crawling into bed the moment she got home. The exhaustion from consecutive late nights and long days were quickly catching up to her. As she approached the row of reserved parking spots, she noticed a dark figure leaning on the hood of her car, smoke billowing from its mouth.

“Well, aren’t you the elusive one?” She said when she realized it was, of course, Gene. His arms were crossed and he turned around to look at her.

“I’m so sorry, Judy, I forgot I had a meeting on the other end of the lot with Freed, I needed to haul ass. You have a tendency to make me forget those kinds of things,” he winked. “I was beginning to think they’d never let you outta there.”

“You and me both, darling,” she said under her breath as she joined Gene and leaned against the hood.

“Again, however, I find myself asking what are you doing here?”

“I said I wanted to see you again. You said it was alright,” he said matter-of-factly.

“I didn’t think you meant in the MGM parking lot,”

“Let go for a drive,” he beamed.

“Now?” She checked her watch, “it’s getting late,”

“Late? It’s barely eleven o’clock. I’m away for six months and you become a lark. That’s it, I’m never leaving this town again,” he teased.

Judy faintly laughed, sighing at the end.

“I won’t keep you, honestly, I’d just like to talk… please? Let’s drive for awhile.”

Gene and Judy drove down Overland, heading North with no real purpose or destination in mind. Gene kept stealing glances at Judy while the radio played a Bing Crosby tune. As he glanced over at her, staring straight ahead as though she were terrified to look at him, he couldn’t help but smile.

“So you’re not over me, huh?” He blurted.

Judy winced immediately, “fuck…”

Gene laughed.

“That letter was not meant for your eyes, I am beyond embarrassed.”

“It wasn’t? My name written on the envelope kinda threw me off.”

“I wrote that letter for myself, as a sort of diary. I thought if I got my thoughts down on paper, I could move on, get past this, us… and my half wit housekeeper went and mailed it to you,” she pursed her lips together, trying to hide a self deprecating smile.

“Sure, I’ll pretend for a moment to believe that,” he smirked.

“It’s the truth! Do you honestly think I’d send you a letter like that knowing full well the effort you’ve put into fixing your family?”

“Honestly, yes,” he half-teased.

“Ouch…”

There was a moment of silence between them, the air that was light moments ago turned strained.

“I am so sorry, Gene… I didn’t want to jeopardize the progress you and Betsy made. It was not my intention.”

“I know it wasn’t,” he said quietly.

“I’m sorry I–,”

“Stop saying you’re sorry. Whether that letter was sent by accident or not, I was meant to receive it. I needed to hear what you had to say.”

“How come you never wrote me back?” She asked earnestly.

Gene sort of shrugged his shoulders, “what can I say? I like keeping you on your toes,” he smirked again, lightening the air between them once more.

“You’re an ass.”

Gene pulled off the main road, turning down a path that led to a quiet garden. The park was completely dark but it gave them the privacy both were looking for. He pulled into a parking spot and shut off the engine.

“May I ask what happened with Joe?” He pried, turning to look at her.

Judy shook her head, not in a way that was saying ‘no’ but in a way that indicated absurdity.

“That night at Ciro’s,” She began, “he took me home, he made love to me and then he told me I had to leave because,” she paused for a moment, the muscles in her neck flaring, “his wife was coming home early the next morning so they could celebrate their anniversary.” Gene tried to hide the I-told-you-so expression as she continued, “I had found a necklace in his sock drawer a few days before that, and I guess I thought it was a gift for me... It was for her. Doesn’t quite sound like a man on the brink of leaving his wife, does it?” She said with a mirthless smile.

“No, no it doesn’t.”

“I left his house that night, I didn’t hear from him again until several weeks later. I told him to go to hell. He didn’t even fight for me.”

“I’m sorry, I really am. But what did you expect involving yourself with a married man?”

“I was involved with you,” she retorted.

“That’s different, and you know it,” he said, “I love my family, Judy,” he added, staring at the steering wheel in front of him, “I love my wife,”

“I know,”

“But if I love her so much, why the fuck can’t I stop thinking about you?” He said, almost getting angry, “When I was reading your letter, it was like I could have written it to you. You are exactly that, a fucking white noise that I can’t turn off. Everything reminds me of you, I can’t escape you… and to be perfectly honest, I think it’s because I don’t want to escape you.”

“Darling…”

“I tried to write you back, believe me I fucking tried. But what was I supposed to say? What more can I say to you? I don’t regret choosing my family, I will never regret anything that has to do with my daughter but why can’t I stop loving you?”

“For the same reason I can’t. There is something real here. It’s the metaphorical elephant in the room that never leaves, not for a second.”

“So what do we do about it?”

“I haven’t a clue,” She sighed.

Gene smiled tenderly and raised his arm over her, gesturing for her to slide in to him. She shoved towards him on the seat and rested her head on his shoulder as he held her. For the first time in months, they relished in their physical contact. Gene placed a soft kiss atop her head, all the while inhaling her sweet and familiar scent. When his lips separated from her hair, Judy looked up at him with her mouth slightly parted. Her lips had never looked more inviting.

“Gene,” she whispered almost inaudibly. That was his queue to take the next step and capture her in a delicate yet heated kiss. His palm raised to her cheek before he allowed his fingers to gently graze down the side of her neck. The feel of him gave her instant goosebumps as their mouths continued in perfect harmony.

“Do you still want me?” She murmured, her lips still attached to his. Gene reached for her hand and slowly began to guide it to his trousers that were tented from his solid arousal.

“For as long as I live, I will always want you,” He answered.

He undid the zipper, reaching inside to pull himself out before placing her bare hand on him. He couldn’t help the deep groan that escaped his lips when he finally felt her around him again. He caught her in another desperate kiss as her small, delicate hand moved up and down his swollen flesh. Judy swung her leg over him and carefully lifted herself onto his lap with his assistance. He quickly began working at the buttons on her cashmere sweater, eagerly trying to free her to him. He let out a deep breath as he slid his hands over her chest to push the sweater off her shoulders. She was instantly bare to him – there was something so unbelievably erotic about her choice not to wear a bra after a long day. He smiled before lowering his mouth to her breasts, kissing and sucking each one. The waves of pleasure that coursed through her body and met up between her legs were quickly becoming unbearable.

“I’ve missed you,” he purred between kisses. Judy leaned forward, enveloping his head with her arms as she ran her dainty fingers through his jet black hair.

Judy lifted onto her knees while Gene guided his throbbing arousal through the leg of her panties. She shaped her mouth into an O as he slid effortlessly inside her. He gripped her thighs which were now much thinner than he remembered and dug his fingertips into her skin as she began to ride him faster and faster. When she went particularly hard on the up motion, her bottom hit the horn on his steering wheel, sending an obnoxiously loud sound echoing into the empty park. Judy immediately dove her face into Gene’s chest as she stifled a roaring laugh. Gene held her body against his as his lips pursed together, desperately trying not to ruin the moment.

“I’m sorry,” she snorted.

“Don’t be,” he said, smiling, taking her face in his hands again so she’d look at him. His hand slid to the back of her neck and he gripped her hair in his fists before resuming their rhythm, this time it was him leading. His pace quickened and suddenly Judy could barely catch her breath. Every thrust inside hit her in all the right places and she grasped the grab handle on the ceiling, preparing for the inevitable burst of pleasure she had been waiting so long for.

“Don’t stop,” she begged, digging her fingernails into his shoulder.

“I wasn’t planning to, baby,” he groaned.

Judy pulled in a deep breath, unable to exhale as her body began to betray her. The car felt like it was spinning as she released a soul shattering climax. Gene held on until he felt a few more tremors shake her body, then he plunged deep inside one last time and buried his face in her chest.

“Oh, my God… Judy…” he panted, feeling a rush come over him unlike anything he’d ever felt.

“My God, too…” She collapsed in his arms and he cradled her. She was so warm against him, he loved the sound of her laboured breathing becoming more and more relaxed, and the sweet audible moans she’d let out sporadically, they sounded so melodic. Neither could tell just how long they stayed like that for. All sense of timing went out the window when they came down from their vigorous aftershocks.

Gene kissed her again, soft and tenderly for a while, neither wanted the evening to end. When his hand once again cradled her cheek, his thumb caught a tear that had escaped her eye. He withdrew for a moment and looked into her misty brown eyes.

“Why are you crying?”

Judy tightened her lips, shaking her head as though she were struggling to properly convey her answer.

“I was just thinking about what a beautiful memory this night will be.”

“Why are you thinking of it as a memory?”

“Because it has to be just a memory, doesn’t it?”

“No.”

“Gene,” she looked at him, all-knowingly, “are you going to go home and leave your wife?”

He didn’t answer, only leaning his head back against the seat and closing his eyes.

“It’s not our time yet, darling,” she explained, “the time for us to act on the elephant in the room will come one day and we will know when it feels completely and unequivocally right between us. You’ll take me home tonight, I’ll go my way and you’ll go yours...”

“I hate the way that sounds… I can’t be without you for months again, I can’t.”

“Yes, you can,” she encouraged, “you have to.”

“Why? Why does this have to end like this?”

“It’s not ending, darling, we’re just… putting ourselves on hold. If there’s one thing I’ve realized over the course of this night with you is that being in love with you and knowing you’re still in love with me is enough. It’s enough for me to hold onto until the day comes when we can be together – no hiding, no spouses, no rules.”

Gene took a deep breath, exhaling loudly. He hated when she was right. He knew they couldn’t continue on the way they had been. Getting back together now would mean getting back together under the pretense of yet another affair. Both of them liked to think they were past that.

Gene helped Judy straighten up but kept her under his arm as they drove back towards Beverly Hills. Neither of them spoke a word the entire way there and when Gene pulled into her driveway, he looked at her for a moment, his mouth shaping up like he was about to say something. Judy pressed her index finger to her lips, silently asking him not to. Her eyes began to well up once more and she leaned forward, kissing him delicately. Gene’s lips parted slightly to receive one last warm sweep of her tongue. When they broke apart, Judy held her hands over her heart, mouthing the words I love you before getting out of the car. Gene watched as she walked up the pathway to her door and disappeared inside.

J U N E 1 9 4 5

Sitting at the kitchen table, Gene jubilantly fed Kerry her breakfast. She had grown so much, he couldn’t believe how much he’d missed in the last four months. He was very proud of the work he was doing for the Navy but it was when he was home that he couldn’t help the small feeling of regret. Betsy would try to capture as much as she could about Kerry’s development in her letters but reading about it was entirely different than witnessing it for himself. Gene was fixing a little smiley face on Kerry’s food tray with her sliced bananas, grapes and strawberries when Betsy came in from the front porch.

“Did you happen to see the papers this morning?” She asked, walking into the kitchen.

“Nope,” he said, still lost in his fruit art. Betsy tossed the paper on the table in front of him and his eyes drifted to the large black lettering.

JUDY GARLAND WEDS DIRECTOR VINCENTE MINNELLI

#jugenea #fanfic

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myfandomlife-blog · 4 years

Text

Forever: Part 6

Pairings: Loki x Reader

Warnings: blood, injury

Part 5

At your request Tony gathered the other Avengers in the lab that he and Bruce were using so you could tell them about your life before earth. You told them about your life in Asgard, your parents and how you grew up with Thor and Loki.

„And because Odin thought it was destiny that Thor and I shared the same birthday and similar powers, he had the idea that it was predetermined that we would marry and reign over Asgard together. But...“ You hesitated, unsure if you could speak it out loud.

„But you had fallen in love with Loki.“ Natasha finished your sentence and you nodded.

„That’s awful y/n.“ Bruce said sympathetic.

Natasha walked over to you and laid a hand on your shoulder.

„Yeah i wouldn’t want to marry thunder Barbie either.“ Tony said and you had no other choice as to laugh about his attempt to cheer you up.

„But he’s so different now.“ You said. „Loki. That’s not the men that I knew. It almost feels like something is clouding his mind.“ You looked at the scepter which was lying on the table. “What is that?” You asked while your hand hovered inches above the scepter.

“That’s his weapon. Loki used it when we capture him in Germany.” Bruce stepped next to you. “We’re trying to find out what it is. Do you know something?” He said.

“No I’ve never seen this before. He must have gotten it after I went to earth.” You said.

“It doesn’t matter what it is. We need to decide what’s going to happen to it.” Tony said. “I don’t think we should hand it over to shield.”

“Oh and you think you’re more trustworthy than them? That someone like you should decide what to do with it?” Steve said provoking.

“None of you little humans can handle a weapon like this. Y/n and I will take it back to Asgard together with Loki.” Thor said while pointing to you.

“What did you just say? I’m not going back to Asgard. You can´t decided that for me!” You said angry.

“But that’s your home. Your far to powerful to waste your abilities here on Midgard.”

“I decided for what i ‘waste’ my abilities. Not you and surely not Odin! You two have told me what to do for far to long.” Anger laced voice and you didn’t now where it suddenly came from.

A hand appeared on your shoulder and you snapped around to see it was Bruce. “Y/N please let go of the scepter.” He said calm.

“What i don’t...” You looked at your hand and there it was. You couldn’t even remember taking it. You put it back on the table fast and took a few steps away from it. “That was scary. I felt so much anger.” You turned to Thor. “I’m sorry for what i said but I´m not going back. It just doesn´t feel like home anymore”

“It’s okay little one.” He laid an arm over your shoulder and smiled softly. “We don´t have to talk about it now.”

„I think we all got a little hot headed.“ Steve said.

“Maybe we should all get some distance between us and this weird thing.” Tony said while pointing at the scepter. “I think it’s affecting our anger and someone in here really shouldn’t get angry.”

Bruce threw him an annoyed look.

When the alarm went of you know that it was Loki’s doing. So Thor and you had run straight to his cell and as you arrived you saw that the door was wide open and Loki was standing in the entrance. Or so it looked but Thor had already started to run towards the cell.

„Wait!“ You shouted but it was to late.

It wasn’t Loki but one of his illusions. Thor hadn’t noticed because he had run right into Loki`s trap and was now locked inside the glass prison.

„Oh y/n you were always so much better in seeing trough my illusions than Thor. I could never fool you.“ He turned around to you with a scornful grin that made your stomach twist.

„I don’t know what’s gotten into you but you really need to stop this! I don’t even recognize you anymore!“ You said angry.

„Did it ever occurred to you that maybe this is who I really am? That maybe my true self emerged after you left?“ He said cynical while his hand hoovered above the switch for the glass cell.

„I’m no fool Loki! I knew you your whole life and that’s not your true self! Believe me!“

He didn’t answer just looked behind you and lifted his hands in surrender.

You turned around and there was Coulson standing with a giant gun pointed at Loki.

„What are you doing?“ You said.

„Well I’ve always wanted to know what this thing can do.“ He said grinning.

When you felt the change in the air it was to late. Loki had used the moment you were distracted and appeared behind Coulson while the gun was now pointed at an illusion.

You knew what was going to happen and you prayed that you would be fast enough to save him. As careful as you could you threw yourself against Phil to knock him out of the way but he still crushed pretty hard against the wall. But at least he probably would survive. You on the other hand felt the sharp end of Loki’s scepter piercing through your stomach and as you looked up into his eyes you saw that they were wide open in shock. He threw the scepter away and caught you before you hit the ground.

“You foolish woman! What did you do?”

He whispered while his eyes became wet.

That reaction made you smile even when your sight became dark and you lost consciousness. Maybe he wasn’t lost after all.

Your body felt awfully heavy when you woke up. There was a steady peeping noise next to you and as the haziness vanished from your sight you saw that you were laying on a bed. The memory flashed back into your mind and as you shot up your whole body burned painfully.

“Hey wait you can’t get up! You need to rest.” It was Maria who was next to you in an instant.

“Where am I?” You asked.

“Your still on the helicarrier.” She said while pushing you back down.

“Where is he? Where is Loki?” You asked and her face became serious.

“He is in New York. They’re all in New York. But you can’t get up now. You’re lucky to still be alive.” She tried to hold you down but you were stronger.

“I can’t stay here Maria! I need to go and help them...please.” You said begging.

She stopped and sighted. “Fine. I can’t hold you anyway.” You nodded thankfully and just as you wanted to ask for fast way to the city, you heard a voice.

“You can’t just get down to landing dock 2, take the Quinjet that is not guarded right now and fly to New York on your own.” Someone said from the door. You turned your head to him and grinned.

“Well Nick, than it’s a lucky coincidence that nobody told me about it.”

You jumped of the bed and as a reward you tumbled for a moment as the pain flashed trough your body.

“I’m okay.” You said to Maria who was just trying to catch you. “I’m not a human. I can stand a little injury.” You grinned at her and she gave you a weak smile.

“Please be careful.”

“I always am.”

It hadn´t took to much effort to find Loki in Tony´s new tower. It was the only place that was interesting enough for him. You walked into the room that opened up to the terrace. Loki was facing the city but you knew that he had noticed your arrival.

“I knew that you would be strong enough to survive that injury.” He said without turning around.

“Oh you knew.” You said sarcastic. “Well then i was lucky that you´re so superior. I could have sworn that you were concerned for a second.”

He twisted around and within seconds his face was inches from yours. For a second you had lost your focus and there was this little familiar tingle in your stomach but it faded as soon as his malicious grin was back.

“Oh don´t flatter yourself y/n. You´re as arrogant as my brother.” He backed off a bit so he could look down on you. “You should just take him into your bed and hide together in Asgard...”

His head had tilted a little from the force of your slap and his eyes widened in shock. Your palm was burning and tears where stinging in your eyes. For a second you thought that this had made his head clear again but then his face was pure anger.

Before his dagger could hit you, you had rolled out of his reach.

“I really hoped that there was anything left in you worth saving but it seems I was wrong.” You said calm as you stood up and spread your arms. “Well then, just do it. Kill me and I will never bother you again. Because if you don´t, there won´t be a single waking minute in your life that I won´t try to bring you down.”

He watched you carefully for a moment as if he was deciding what was the better option for him and then he was behind you and the dagger in his hand was hovering over your heart.

“Don´t tempt me.” He said in a whisper. “You have no idea how little I care about you.”

You turned around and in one motion you grabbed the dagger over his hand and brought the tip of the blade onto your skin.

“Well I think I know exactly how much you care about me.” You held his gaze while you pushed the dagger down a little so it drew blood from your skin. His gaze flickered to the knife and back to your eyes and in this moment you could see a glimmer of blue flashing over his eyes. His gaze widened in realization and in a swift move he threw the dagger across the room.

“What are you doing?” He asked breathless as he was fighting with himself. “Just leave me and go.”

“No! Why should I leave you when you need me?”

“I don´t need anyone.”

“Yes you do! And I need you because I love you!”

His gaze snapped back to you and he shook his head slowly. “How can you after all that I´ve done. After all the things I´ve done to you?” He was on his knees and had never seemed weaker as in this moment. You kneelt before him and took his head into your hands.

“Because I couldn´t save my parents but I won´t fail to save you.”

...

@generationallyfluid

@snix1112

@evanicoya

@loser-alert

@orighami

@laic2299

#loki fanfic #loki (marvel)#loki #loki x reader #loki fanfiction #Loki Laufeyson #thor #Avengers #avengers fanfiction

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ussjellyfish · 4 years

Text

sightseeing pt 1 | philinda | AoS | explicit

Forgive me for the first chapter being foreplay...it’s not after this. (whisky help me).

Post-Finale fic, because I wanted one where she finds him.

No longer quite an agent, Phil Coulson went off to see the world. Professor Melinda May knows the kinds of places he likes. The rest isn't quite parasailing, but it's certainly classified.

It's his kind of place. Homey, old, with a scuffed, well worn floor and walls covered in history. Melinda isn't sure if seafood is something this version of Phil enjoys, but he's always been excited by good food and the scallops are divine here. Luckily the seagood is different enough from Tahiti to not dredge up her own longings. She won't be able to sit on a tropical beach without her chest aching but the stones and the Loch are pleasantly different.

If he doesn't show, she'll get plenty of work done. Her stack of provisional field reports is much smaller than it was when she arrived on the ferry two days ago. She walks along the water in the morning, and does her tai chi between the trees and the shore. The locals are polite, and accustomed enough to tourists that they're neither curious or too chatty.

The Old Forge pub's lively tonight with a sizeable group at the bar and a group playing something that's not pool. Phil would know what it is, and the rules, though he'd lose his shirt before he'd admit he wasn't that good at it. Maybe now he is. Maybe part of the upgrades are a passing skill with games. She hasn't got to play poker with him yet, but maybe now he finally has game.

That thought makes her smile, and she sets down her pen. She should correct the papers on her laptop, but it feels wrong to sit in a place with history and type. The pen is Phil's, one of his exquisite collection of fountain pens and every once in awhile she gets ink all over her fingers. It feels like part of the job, so she lets it happen. The stains remind her of him.

Everything does. Phil's in the scent of whisky, men unbuttoning their suit coats before they sit down, blue ties, red ties, and the feel of leather. She hasn't stayed in a hotel without him, not in years, and the little cottage she's rented is designed to be shared, but it's easy enough to ignore the other bathrobe and the other towel. He'll be here.

Or he won't.

She's rarely wrong about him: what he likes, the kinds of places he finds interesting. He'd have a hard time resisting the most remote pub in the UK and he'd sit in the corner table and read his book.

Melinda finishes her soup and sets the bowl aside. She's drunk half of her beer, and when it's gone she will allow herself one shot of whisky before she retreats to her cottage and the hot tub hidden in the trees.

She's deep in her work, nearing the end of her pint when he walks in. It's him by the sound of his feet, even in hiking boots instead of derby shoes. Her reading glasses slip and she forces them up the bridge of her nose. Working without them ends in headaches and that's not how she wants tonight to end.

Not that they--

Of course not.

Phil orders a drink and searches the pub, his eyes fall on her and she doesn't look up. She can't, she's not ready to look at him, not if--

"Is this seat taken?"

"All yours."

He sits, setting down his pint next to hers. "These are new."

"Getting old."

"Not you," he teases. "Melinda May is an ageless goddess."

"Professor May gets fairly nasty headaches if she reads papers all day without them."

He smiles. "Are you sure that it's not the papers?"

Chuckling, she sets down her pen. His pen. Another him, another lifetime ago. Removing her glasses, she sets them down. "They're not that bad. Apparently it's too much time in a cockpit."

"They suit you."

"Thanks."

"This suits you." He lifts his glass, taking a sip as he looks over her sweater. "You seem relaxed."

"Nowhere to be."

He takes a longer drink, rolling the ale over his tongue before he swallows. What different parts of it can he taste now? Does his tongue disect the molecules or does he taste it like she does? "How did you know I'd come here?"

"The most remote pub in Scotland is definitely your thing."

"I wanted to go to Ireland." The server sets his plate in front of him. Fish and chips. Of course.

She reaches across, stealing a chip. "You wouldn't go without me."

He raises his eyebrows in mock indigence at her theft. "You already ate."

"You never finish your chips."

"Because you do." Phil reaches for the vinegar and his fingers brush her wrist. Her heart thuds, too loud and too needy.

"I missed you."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be."

"No, let me apologize." He holds up a chip as a peace offering. "I wasn't ready."

"You don't have to be."

"I am."

She eats the chip, trying to concentrate on the salt and crispy potato. Pay attention to her body, find the horizon, find her center. She can't slow her heartbeat, but she can ignore it. Pretend she can't taste the need in her chest.

"Ready for?"

"Whatever comes next." He smiles, really smiles, and they could be back at the Academy, studying in the cafeteria, decades ago. "You came all this way."

"It's spring break, I had the time."

"What if I didn't come?"

"You did."

"I did."

He finishes his pint and she tucks her papers into her briefcase.

"What are we drinking? Islay or Speyside?"

"Not that peated one."

Phil laughs, shaking his head. "I like that."

"I do too, but not tonight."

"All right, something sweeter." He stands, heading back to the bar. "Don't eat all my chips."

"I'll leave one."

She leaves three, just to be kind.

Phil returns with whiskies, doubles, and slides hers across. Can he get drunk? Is it all about the taste, the ritual?

"What are we drinking too?"

"A wild spring break?"

She raises an eyebrow.

"Had to try." Those crinkles around his eyes are perfect, and him. So is the way she's not sure if his eyes are blue, hazel or brown. Must be the lighting.

"Thank you."

"I left you three, you should be grateful."

He eats one of the chips and chuckles. "That you found me?"

"Well, you weren't visiting."

"I--"

"It's all right."

"It's not. I should have visited, you asked and I- I left you."

"You do that a lot." She didn't mean to say it, it's too harsh, but he nods all the same.

"Sorry about that."

"Maybe this you sticks around."

"Would be nice."

"Yeah?"

"I'm enjoying it. Seeing the world, sitting in pubs., reading, watching...never had time for most of it. Couldn't take a day and read a book and now I can just flip through them."

"Must be nice."

"Just say the word and I'll help you with your essays." He reaches out, hand open on the table.

"They're not bad."

"Solidly mediocre?"

"There's promise. Some will be good agents in a few years."

"Some dreadful ones."

"Always a few."

They lift their glasses, eyes locked. "What are we drinking to?"

"Seeing the world?"

"Having our feet the ground for once."

"Well, Lola is out back." He clinks his glass against hers. "To seeing it slowly."

"To taking time."

Phil grins at that, his eyes softening as the little lines around them deepen. "That's not something we do."

"Maybe we start."

His eyes won't leave her lips. The whisky starts sweet, then warms her throat. The last time he kissed her, he was dying, now death is a thousand years away.

Phil sets his glass down on the table. "I'm not sure I know how."

"All that time wandering the world, reassessing, and you didn't figure out how to take your time?" Her cheeks flush, and it's not the whisky. His gaze has always been able to do that to her.

"Never been good at it."

"Maybe it's time to learn some new skills."

He waves over the bartender and she refills their glasses without a word. Amber whisky glows in the weak light of the sunset through the window.

"You think it's possible to teach new tech new tricks?"

"Isn't that one of the benefits of all your circuits?"

"Perhaps." He drinks without a toast, almost as if he has to fortify himself for what's to come. "I'm sorry, Melinda."

"For what?"

"So many things."

"Dying?"

"Not staying dead."

Shaking her head, she finishes her own whisky, barely tasting it this time. "The world's better with you in it, you know that."

"Even for you?"

"Of course it is, you're my best friend."

"I've been more than that."

She traces the rim of the glass with her finger. "You could be again."

"Is that what you want?"

Want isn't even the right word. Want is too simple.

"I love you."

"Loved," he corrects her. "He's gone."

"No, Phil, I love you. This you, the last you, the nerdy you before who used to stop by my cubicle on your coffee break just to make me laugh."

"It's not--"

She reaches across the table and squeezes his hand, making sure to have all his attention. "It is that easy."

He gulps and stares, dumbfounded. It's pretty cute when he gets like this. "Okay."

"Do you want to wait five minutes and follow me to the cottage or come now?"

Phil smirks. "Is someone following us?"

"Would it matter?"

"Could be fun."

Laughing, she picks up her briefcase, tucking her glasses away. "Maybe for you."

"Fighting off the bad guys isn't foreplay anymore?" He grabs her jacket, opening it up so she can step in.

Melinda reaches up to fix her hair, but he does, gently letting it fall onto her shoulders. "It's not as fun as it used to be."

"So you need a new hobby?"

"The vacation might be enough."

"It's not a vacation if you're working." He rests his hand on her back as they leave the pub for the tiny street that goes nowhere.

"I needed to pass the time until you got here."

"So I'm late?"

"Aren't you always?"

His fake wounded face hasn't changed in decades. "Hey."

"I don't mind waiting."

"Maybe you should." He touches her chin, stopping them in the street. No one's coming, there's nowhere to go.

"What are you going to do about that?"

Phil glances down the street, then at his feet. "I guess I'll find some guys to shoot at us, seemed to help last time."

"So romantic." She stands on her tiptoes, reaching up for his shoulder. He leans down, just a little, and they're close. Melinda tilts her head, tugs, and he laughs before they kiss. Her lips tingle from the drink and he tastes like whisky. At first he's tentative, gentle, so she deepens the kiss, opening her mouth, teasing- offering- and he takes.

His fingers slip into her hair, pulling her closer as his tongue tastes her. Does he remember kissing on the beach? Can he know what those weeks were like? Does he only remember the kiss behind the shield?

Does it matter? He's here. They're here. They have now; they've never been good at seizing their moments. Maybe that's something they can reassess together.

#philinda #agents of shield #post-finale fic #professor may in glasses is really too adorable #lmd phil coulson

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