- you hit your sub goal of 5000 and the cooking stream you promised
- 3/4 know how to cook
-> jack surprisingly knows how to cook a little bit (beans on toast) , ranboo only knows how to make whacky american burgers and tubbo knows how to make a cake (from a box mix but i mean a cake is a cake so...)
- today's stream is rlly just teaching tommy how to cook but also not letting him touch anything dangerous like a knife or the oven, so teaching him nothing at the same time
-> streaming from tubbo's kitchen cause they're the coolest w/ letting 5 teens make a mess
- you're making choc chip cookies per chat's request
- jack's measuring 2 cups of flour into a bowl and that's when all hell breaks loose
-> ranboo is on the side reading the instructions when tommy chucks a bag of flour at him
-> tubbo is laughing so hard he's crying, ranboo is coughing after inhaling flour, you're just standing there & jack had to jump onto tommy to stop more flour from being spread
- chat is losing their minds over the flour toss
- after a quick break of ranboo wiping the flour of himself and jack talking to chat to distract them from the chaos happening in the kitchen
-> back to the scheduled programming, only for you to notice that there's zero flour left thanks to tommy
- cue tubbo yelling to his parents that you ran out of flour and need to go to the groceries
-> chat is like thriving with the amount of chaos thats occurring and sending dono's for you guys to buy some flour
- streaming whilst in jack's car on the way to Sainsbury's
-> almost swerving off the road cause tommy shoves the camera in Jack's face
- when you arrive at the shops, debating who's going in to buy the flour
-> ranboo stays in the car cause he's still covered in flour with tubbo, whilst you and jack haul tommy into the shops
-> one of you to watch him so he doesnt cause trouble in the car & the other to actually buy the flour
- stream ends for 30 minutes after an employee tells you that you cant film in the shop & letting chat know that you're gonna take a quick break
- you ended up buying flour and pre-made cookies cause it's easier
-> getting back to tubbo's house you told chat that you bought cookies cause it was a lot easier than teaching tommy to cook
-> cooking with tommy might come at a later date tho (maybe)
Sometimes hearing a content creator say their real name is like hearing Batman say "my name is Bruce"
highschool, aka hell & chaos || cc!benchtrio x reader
note: a part of the msgi dsmp high series!! this is a high school au and its just hcs of what its like to hang out with the bench trio in high school! slight wilbur & sbi x reader at the end w/ bby tommy and tubbo
pronouns/gender: gender neutral | they/them
. when you are studying with tubbo, nothing gets done
. like nothing nothing
. like you two are either in the library or in a classroom, sitting across the room from each other
. but you guys are texting and like every three seconds you two look up from your phone or notebook just to smile and giggle and like he’s biting his cheek to not laugh out loud
. you swore you would never study with him ever again
. tubbo would have all the fancy stationery and fun things but definitely be failing class
. he has the notes everyone is jealous of and asks for
. ranboo gives ear piercing vibes- like black studs
. he would also be that ONE KID who doesn't pay attention and sleeping in class and still gets all A’s (so unfair)
. ranboo would also only sign up for football because he needed it for college apps
. he would NOT do it willingly- but tubbo also drags him in
. tommys in football cuz his brothers did it and dragged tubbo into it (he’s clingy)
. tommy is also in theatre because of wilbur and plays a tree-
. he also gets the comedic characters that have lots of trauma (that he suggested)
. wilbur definitely antagonized tommy into getting a septum piercing and said he looked weak-
“FUCK YOU BITCH WATCH THIS”
. he got it.
. and is hella terrified
“I can’t believe i just did that”
. he comes home to phil and phils like: “what the hell happened”
. while tommy stands there like he peed his pants
. if it was little tommy/tubbo: after winning game celebratory ice cream
"y/n! let me try yours, i wanna try yours!" "wha- if you let tubbo eat your ice cream, let me too! this is not fair!"
. very messy but they love football games just for the ice cream
@kai-was-here @b3l0v3ds @truthfulsyncerity @forutheworld @losingvienna @luluwinchester @cr0wbonezz-wr1ting-inc @dreamiewrites @a-simp-for-block-people @dysfunctionalcrab @ella-ivanov @akasuki @bioluminescentfrog @brainsanalysis @momo-has-a-gun @korylyzed @notgeoreg @ialexabsuniverse @disastrousdream @inniterhq @bugthegremlin @spoonz @god1ngs @sabinanotfound @stuffforreferences @crybabyjabby @totem-awooga @mack4676 @esylwen @notphilosopherstudentblog @oh-mcyt @l0ver0fj0y @luvjoyed @yamturds @chubbity @ttakinou @w1lbursu1t @dropkickedanorphaninselfdefense @yoshirikuxd @mayhapskarlwillmarryme @cherios @qnfs @fantasy-innit @honknap @lmfaosoph @afamous-simp @queennightsetz @willowsdemise @dreamzluvrr @quivvyinthclouds @ashtin_22435@okayzandria @m0oshrooms
Pairings- Eventual streetracer!sapnap x f!streetracer!reader and slight streetracer!Wilbur x f!streetracer!reader
A/N: HERE IT IS. Okay, I am lowkey in love with this chapter. We are seeing some changes and I can't wait to write the next two!! Taglist is still open so shoot me an ask or a comment to be added! Happy Readings!
Word count- 2k (Holy shit)
Warnings: Swearing, yelling, cops, illegal street racing
The next 2 months passed relatively quickly. Nothing really changed in that time, Sapnap was still an ass and making my life at the garage a living hell, but fortunately Wilbur was still being sweet as the first day I met him.
Today was the day of the meet that Dream assigned Sapnap and I to go to, and frankly I wasn’t looking forward to going to a place filled with new people and only to have the only familiar face there be Sapnap’s.
I arrived at the garage and unfortunately saw Sapnap’s Charger already in the parking lot. I pulled into a parking spot a few down from where his car is, I didn’t want to catch a case of bitchass from him. I walk into the shop where I see Sapnap and Dream waiting at the service counter for, who I assume to be me.
“Y/n, thank you for still deciding to do this, I know Sapnap hasn’t been the most welcoming,” Dream said as he glanced at Sapnap.
For the past 2 months this man has rolled his eyes more than he has spoken to me and I am fed up with it.
“Keep rolling your eyes and maybe you’ll find your brain back there,” I snapped out.
Sapnap didn’t say anything as he turned on his heel and walked towards the exit.
Dream sighed out “He is in a mood, but I know you already know. Anyways, when you get there expect to see Niki and Techno there. I don’t expect Wilbur will be there but if he is, ignore them. The other crews there know that we are rivals and conversing with them won’t reflect well on you or me. Let them come to you, understand?” Dream explained as we followed Sapnap out.
Sapnap was leaning against his car with his head tilted towards the sky, “Are you ready?” He asked.
“Of course,” I respond with a smirk, “are you?”
“Follow me to the town, just try and keep up.”
“I’ll try not to pass you this time.”
I follow Sapnap the entire way there, eventually we pulled into an abandoned Walmart parking lot. We pull into the empty spots next to Niki’s and Techno’s cars.
When I exit my car Sapnap is already on his way over to me and I can’t help but think ‘what crawled up his ass and died now?’ but before I could voice my thoughts he was already in front of me.
“Don’t wander too far, we are later than everyone else and the race will probably start soon.” Sapnap said.
I have had a question I have been dying to ask Sapnap since I found out about this meet and this was probably my only chance to ask him.
“Hey Sapnap, can I ask you something?”
“I guess, even if I say no you’ll probably ask anyways.”
“I know it technically it isn’t any of my business but why did you change your mind so quickly after Dream mentioned sending Punz in your place?”
Sapnap let out a long sigh and looked around us before answering “ You’re right it is none of your business but if you must know, I don’t trust him. He came seeking us out after we lost some of our other drivers, but after Dream took him on, strange stuff happened. You know how Quackity and Karl don’t like talking about their cars?”
I nod my head, urging him to go on.
“Well it’s because they are impounded. They were out doing practice runs with each other then all of the sudden the cops showed up out of nowhere. The fishy thing is they only told the crew and no one else knows where this is, not even you. I just have a bad gut feeling about him and personally I wouldn’t like him to know where I am at because I do not want to go to jail and I would like to keep my car in my possession.”
“I understand, I have only talked to him a few times but every time I have I just get this gut feeling that something is going to go wrong,” I confess.
This was the first civil conversation I have had with this man in the past two months, and honestly it was nice.
Sapnap gives me a tight lipped smile, but before he can turn and walk off he looks in the distance and swears under his breath, I turn around to see what caught his attention. That’s when I notice a ‘65 Ford GT coming towards us.
The driver steps out and speak of the devil, its Punz.
“Punz, man what are you doing here?” Sapnap asks while stepping around me.
“Dream asked me to come and make sure that you didn’t leave her alone,” Punz says while eyeing me head to toe.
“He did? Whatever man, the race is about to start soon anyway,” Sapnap scoffs out.
As I turn to go back to my car I spot Niki, Techno and to my surprise Wilbur. He must have rode with one of them because I don’t see his car anywhere. He gives a small wave to me and I wave back.
I go to open my door but before I am able to, a hand grabs my bicep and turns me around. I am then face to face with Sapnap. He looks around and leans in, my breath catches in my throat.
Sapnap whispers in my ear, “I don’t trust this. Keep an eye out for the cops, I have a feeling we are going to have unwanted company. Good luck.”
“Good luck as well,” I say. I go to move but Sapnap still has hand on my arm. “Um Sapnap? I order for me to get in my car. I need you to let go of my arm.”
“Oh sorry,” he says. Before he lets go of my arm he looks me up and down, “Stay safe.”
I am not able to get anything else out before he speed walks towards his car. I am finally able to sit down and start my car and pull it towards the starting line. I am placed between Niki and another driver I don’t know. I turn towards Niki’s car and I can barely see through the tint of her and I’s windows but I am able to make out a wave, I give her a small wave back.
The race starts off without any problems and soon I am neck and neck with a random driver fighting for third. I glance in the rearview mirror and I see that Niki is directly behind me, the rest of the meet behind her, and ahead of me is Techno and Sapnap fighting for first.
The first few turns go smoothly even though I gained but then lost third, there is still plenty of time left. As the group I am in goes to make our next turn we are greeted with a sight none of us want to see.
A group of cop cars, sitting on the side streets and blocking the rest of the course. I am able to think quicker than the rest of the group and manage to make it through the gap of cops cars by driving on the curb, Niki closely following behind. I can see through the side mirrors that Nikki is one my right and Sapnap is on my left.
Unfortunately for us luck wasn’t on our side tonight with 3 cop cars on our tails. Niki takes a hard right trying to shake them off her, but one follows her. Now it was just Sapnap and I, and I think we are having the same idea. Take them to the highway because there we might be able to shake them off by weaving in and out of traffic.
Sapnap and I manage to merge onto the highway. We split up, him taking the far left lane, I the far right lane. We each merge to the rest of the lanes weaving in and out of the late night traffic. Soon I was ahead of Sapnap and looking in the rearview mirror I see him getting off at an exit, taking one of the cops with him.
After another five-ish minutes of weaving in and out of the late night traffic, I wasn’t able to shake the cop off, so I took the next exit I saw hoping that I could lose him in the residential area of the city. After about 10 minutes I still couldn’t lose him and he was gaining on me.
Soon I hear another pair of sirens and see Sapnap appear around a corner. We are once again right by each other. I see a wider street to the left of me and make the split second decision of the attempt to drift. Of course I haven’t been practicing and I over shoot it causing the cop to rear end me. “FUCK,” I scream out. I guess I’ll just have to floor it.
Sapnap and I get into the more commercial area of the city and with a few more successful drifts and turns we are able to lose them down an alleyway and pull into an abandoned parking garage. We both turned off our cars and killed the lights.
I see Sapnap get out of his car and I quickly follow, I am barely able to close my door before I hear Sapnap start to yell, “What the fuck was that drift! You almost caught caught are you fucking stupid?”
“Keep your voice down, dumbass. And thanks captain obvious, you think I didn’t know it was shit of course I know it was fucking shit!”
“Okay, you also need to keep your voice down, and I’m sorry. I shouldn’t freak out on you like that, you probably were already freaking out. I also saw that the cop rear ended you, are you alright?”
“Besides my pride, yeah I am alright, however, I don’t think my car is,” I sighed out.
We walked towards the back of my car to assess the damage, and to my surprise it didn't look too bad.
“It doesn’t look that bad in this light, it looks like your fender is bent in, doesn’t look like the body itself is damaged,” Sapnap pauses as he crouches down to get a closer look he continues, “it also looks like you got some scratches, but George will be able to fix this no problem.”
“I hope he can,” I begin, Sapnap stands from his previous position, “how much longer do you think we’ll have to wait out?”
“Why? Sick of me already,” I shoot Sapnap a look, he holds his hands up in a defensive position “honestly, I say we wait about an hour or so. I don’t know how long their searches will go on for.”
“Alright, but there is no way they knew about it. Like all those cops just sitting there, they have had to have some sort of tip from someone.”
“It has to be Punz, it doesn’t make sense that he told us that Dream sent him because he was worried about me abandoning you. When I say I’ll go somewhere or that I’ll do something I mean it and Dream knows that. He trusts me more than anyone, I lived with him at one point for Christ's sake.”
Sapnap has this look of deep concentration on his face as he runs his hands through his hair a couple times.
“We should speak to Dream about this, I doubt he’ll be very happy about this situation,” I bring up as I walk to the railing that looks out of the parking garage we are in.
“Yeah I’ll talk to him about tomorrow because frankly I just want to go home and pass out on my bed,” he chuckles out as he comes to lean against the railing as well.
We spend the rest of the hour in silence looking out over the railing, there was nothing else to be said. Sapnap was different tonight in more ways than one and it was a good different. He wasn’t as short with me as he normally was, I could say he was almost caring/concerned and it felt nice.
TAGLIST- @libbynotfound @hungoverhellhound @nealocus @struggling-with-time @strawberrymilkgeorge @noraimp @bugsinmycoldsoup @gaysludge @victoria-a567 @hiphopdancer101universe @celestiacq
Chase Your Desires [2/10]
[C!Technoblade x Fem!Reader]
Warnings: SFW, slow burn, descriptive violence, but not too graphic, brief mentions of feeling worthless
All of this is written in and is meant to be taken as the Dream SMP characters. There is no reference or inclusion of the streamers/Youtubers.
· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·
"Are you forgetting that maybe I'm a person too?" Technoblade asks, breaking the soft mold of silence.
You look at him, trying to see through the void of his mask, but ultimately find no weakness. No cracks in the wall. A fully fortified military base.
"Sometimes, I doubt it," you shrug as if letting the question roll off your back and his posture falters for just a moment. Oh, but you catch it. "But, I do believe you're not just some weapon." You glance at him briefly, "You might be 'The Blade', but you very obviously have feelings and opinions."
· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·
You decide to make camp when the sun goes down and the Dark Forest becomes impossible to navigate. Much to the other two's amusement, you couldn't differentiate between the hulking trunks of trees and dark patches of space to move through, resulting in multiple bumps into hard wood. You didn't think it was funny, but then again, if it were anybody else, you'd probably poke fun as well.
You made a campfire and set some raw beef you got from the occasional cow to cook on the open flame. Phil took out the spare beds he'd brought along and began placing them around in a circle just far enough that they wouldn't catch on fire but close enough for some heat.
Phil tells stories about when Wilbur when he was a kid and some of them draw a few laughs out of you, including the time he burst through the door and insisted they keep the blonde and dirty gremlin child he found in the forest. He casually glosses over the fact that Techno and Will had been like brothers. You personally can't imagine Techno being so soft like that. When the topic of the mother comes up, you see the Piglin hybrid cringe out of the corner of your eye.
"Yeah, about that," Phil says sheepishly, the apples of his cheeks reddening, "It was a Samsung smart fridge."
You stare at him. "Philza, I used to respect you."
"Come on!" He exclaims as if having sexual intercourse with a fridge and getting a baby out of it wasn't absurd.
"Phil, I hope you know that people aren't typically attracted to kitchen appliances," you say flatly, "I mean, Wilbur fucked a salmon but at least the salmon was alive."
"Oh fuck off," he says, but he's smiling, "If it makes you feel better, my wife is alive."
"You have a wife?" You squint at him and he laughs.
"Yup. Her name's Kristin," Phil says, wings flicking as he says her name as if they were reactant to the mention of her. "Met her a while back, though we're very happy together."
"Like," you pause, not wanting to sound stupid. But, you decide you've already embarrassed yourself enough that it couldn't possibly be any worse, "Like, Kristin the Goddess of Death?"
Philza laughs good-naturedly and you huff. "Yeah, like the Goddess of Death," he clarifies.
Tales of Kristin were known by everybody, sometimes believed to be a myth to scare children from running off to the woods alone, and sometimes others devoted their lives, pledging their name to her guidance. She was supposedly powerful, guiding souls to the afterlife and locking those tainted into what you hear is supposed to be an endless loop of purgatory. People who've died and come back to life recount of a lady who's taller than the world's highest towers, face shaded by the wide brim of a hat and clothed in nothing but beautiful black mourning clothes.
The stories about Kristin always enticed and mystified you as a kid rather than scare you off. It wasn't uncommon for the village you grew up in to have to keep a constant eye out for your young toddler self running off to the woods in search of a goddess. It wasn't a surprise that many people named their daughters after such a strong woman figure of legends. If Phil's wife took up the name, you think she must be pretty strong to keep up with her husband's antics.
"I hope I can meet her soon," you yawn, pulling the covers of your bed up to your chin and snuggling into the warmth of the blankets. It's a feeling you savor after the harsh cold of the tundra.
Philza hums as he tucks himself in as well. Techno is already asleep.
"Let's hope not entirely too soon," you hear Phil say quietly before you're pulled beneath the waves of unconsciousness.
For the first night in a long while, you have a dreamless sleep.
· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·
Voices are the first thing you hear upon waking, although they're muffled in your morning haze like trying to listen to a conversation through a wall.
"You can't keep - ....it's - ....-nd you know it." Scolding, but light. A feather fighting against the wind. You deduce that it must be Philza.
"I know. But she won't - ....I'm not - ...." A bit harsher on the tone, like it's cut from hardened stone. Technoblade.
"She won't back down," Philza is saying.
"Neither will I."
You don't know who they're talking about. When you shuffle to sit up, their conversation stops immediately.
"Morning!" You hear Phil greet and you mumble something incoherent about five more minutes, earning a laugh from the winged man. "We're gonna have some breakfast and then head the rest of the way to the mansion. That was our game plan so far, anyway," he explains and you nod, rolling out of the bed and sending it to your inventory.
"Right," you murmur, shaking off the tiredness and rubbing the sleep away from your eyes.
The campfire is already burning and the smell of mushroom stew wafts from the pot that bubbles above the flame. You assume it came from the giant mushrooms that dot the forest and your stomach rumbles. At least you're in the mood for it.
You pull out the map and squint at it, pinpointing your group's whereabouts. Getting the mansion would take maybe an hour of walking and then you'd have to survey the layout from the outside to plan the best course of action. Evokers and vindicators would be your main target and worry. Of course, the evokers have a chance of totems being on them and then you'd have to scout out if there's a room that held a god apple. All of this had to be done while not dying.
The map is gently pulled out of your hands and replaced with a bowl of stew. You open your mouth, ready to object until you meet Technoblade's gaze, who's being careful not to bump the nose of his mask against you. When you get a firm grip on the bowl, he turns and strides away, red cape swishing regally behind him.
You stare after him, feeling like your eyes were burning a hole in his back.
You smother the campfire to not accidentally set the flame to the nearby trees and begin on the last stretch of your first journey. It's silent at first, sometimes commentating on nature and other times just sparking up general small talk. It's comfortable, feeling like you don't have to fill the silence at every moment like you'd have to with the Bench Trio.
Tommy was loud and boisterous. It was in his nature and you can't really blame him for it. It drew people to him anyway because he always had something to say and made sure he was heard. Tubbo just liked talking in general and he was a curious little thing. When he started a ramble, it was impossible to stop him. Ranboo was quiet by nature, but it felt awkward to not be talking to ensure he wasn't intruding or doing anything wrong. He needed a lot of assurances on your trips together so you always had to scramble for a topic with him. With Phil and Techno, it was somewhat peaceful.
You see the roof peeking over the treetops and the sight draws out a sigh in relief from you. You hear the mumbled conversation of the illagers inside and the occasional moans of undead zombies, the clatter of skeleton bones, and the hisses of spiders. You pause, prioritizing your weapons and food within reach.
When you can see the walls and the movement of the creatures inside, you scale up a tree to get a better view while Techno and Phil spread to get more ground. There were three floors lined with red and white carpet where monsters roamed passively through the halls. You catch a blind spot in an area by the window where you could safely enter without getting caught. You doubt this would be a stealth mission but getting in without a hitch would probably help.
You point this out when the three of you regroup and they have no objections. So you break the window and slip in, slicing down a few spiders who're attracted to the nearly inaudible thump of your feet on the plush carpet.
You begin your descent down the stairs and manage to get to the base of the stairs before dodging an oncoming fang attack from an evoker. As the spell fades and it melts back into the floor, you look up just in time to see it summon vexes in.
"On your right!" You hear Philza shout and you barely avoid the axe blade swinging down for your head.
You see a flash of pink and the tip of a gleaming netherite sword piercing through the vindicator's stomach. It drops down, axe falling from its hands before the remains disappear in a cloud of smoke.
Techno's already moving on and it's the first time you've seen him in action like this. Sure, you were there for the wars but between the Withers targeting you and the explosions going off, you couldn't get a clear view. He was graceful. Like killing was a dance and he was an expert. The evoker pushed out a hand, a line of fangs pushing from the ground and snapping sharp teeth at his calves.
He's undeterred, sidestepping to avoid the gnawing attack and switching to use his netherite axe. He takes a calculated leap and strikes the evoker down in one hit, shining purple digging into skull and biting into flesh. Blood is quick to coat the surface and you're so entranced, you nearly forget that you're supposed to be a part of this battle too.
The vexes are diving for him, and you instinctively pull on your bow, nocking an arrow in and aiming. You're not bad with the weapon at all, proof of it as you shoot down flying creatures one by one with only three arrows to kill one each. They fall with squeals and you catch Techno glance towards you as one drops onto his shoulder, sliding off with a plop to the ground before vanishing.
You push on.
There's multiple vindicators and evokers to be had, but with the help of Techno and Philza (who's an exceptionally good combatant , you come to find), you make it out of the experience with nothing more than a few bleeding wounds. You find a room that monsters crowd in like a pleasant little social event. They're easy to take down compared to the illagers and you spot a chest tucked into the shadow of the room. When the mobs are gone, you crack it open and smile when the shimmering apple catches your eye amongst the other treasures that are tucked into it.
A little while later, you watch the fire eat away at the mansion alongside Phil and Technoblade, buckets of water ready to keep control of the flame.
"Well, that wasn't too bad," Phil chirps, wings shuffling happily, "Five totems for a mansion and a god apple."
"Not bad at all," you agree, "I can see why people fear you. Your combat power is impressive."
"Ah, if you want impressive combat power, talk to Techno," Phil nudges his friend lightly, "He's the main guy you should be afraid of fighting."
"His reputation precedes him, I'll give him that much."
"You guys do know that I'm right here, right?" Techno asks and you laugh.
· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·
You settle in a plains biome for the night, tucking into a cave that's nestled into the side of a hill, and enjoy a dinner of steak and bread before you tuck into bed.
You have a nightmare.
It's the dead of night when you startle out of bed, the cool air of the night providing you a sense of comfort, but it's not much to calm the rapid beats of your heart pushing irregularly against your chest as if threatening to break free. Phil and Techno are dead asleep when you stumble out of the cave and trip out of the entrance. Sweat sheets your body in a vaguely gross sheen and you hope you'll dry off by the time you fall back into bed.
If you go back, anyways.
When you climb to the top of the hill and sit looking out at the sprawling plains, you're struck with the urge to run again. It's less of an escape from Phil this time and more from the sense of not being needed. You realize with a pang that what you said to Techno might be true after all. Perhaps nobody would miss you should you die, by his blade or other circumstances. You could disappear off the map for real, go make friends with villagers and live a peaceful life far away from wars and politics.
"Are you thinkin' about running off again?"
Your heart kicks as fear ripples over your skin. "Will you stop doing that?" You hiss, turning to face Technoblade.
He shrugs indifferently. "I just don't want Phil to worry," he says and you sigh as he takes a seat a foot or so away from you. "You ran out of there pretty quickly."
"Just bad dreams," you clarify shortly, drawing your knees up to your chest and balling as if that could protect you from his questions. It doesn't.
"Does it have to do with what I did?" He asks and the inquiry shoots dread down your spine.
"Will you kill me if I said yes?"
There's nothing but silence for a moment. For just a second, it feels like you and Techno are the only two beings in the world. It was like a weird third dimension, but you suppose that's the typical feeling you'd get given the setting you were in right now.
"What were your thoughts," You finally whisper, "when you destroyed L'manburg? When you burned the sheet music of an unfinished song that fell upon your deafened ears."
He doesn't reply and you suppose it's because it's a question he'd have to think about or didn't want to talk about. You let the quiet of the night take place of an answer from him even though it's something you've been dying to ask him since Doomsday.
"Are you forgetting that maybe I'm a person too?" Technoblade asks, breaking the soft mold of silence.
You look at him, trying to see through the void of his mask, but ultimately find no weakness. No cracks in the wall. A fully fortified military base.
"Sometimes, I doubt it," you shrug as if letting the question roll off your back and his posture falters for just a moment. Oh, but you catch it. "But, I do believe you're not just some weapon." You glance at him briefly, "You might be 'The Blade', but you very obviously have feelings and opinions."
His head turns to you, acknowledging your answer. "Is that so?" He asks and it's the first time you hear his voice without the cold hardness that seems to come naturally when he speaks.
"Yeah," you nestle the tip of your nose into the dip between your knees, "I would know about not feeling real."
Techno's eyes are still on you, you can tell. He's searching again, but you don't know what he's looking for. Certainly not a flaw since he probably already had a book's worth of those on you. Perhaps he was searching for a perfection. Something you didn't royally screw up.
"I need a reason," Techno murmurs, prompting you to turn and rest your cheek on the tops of your knees to look at him.
"For what?" You ask softly because the atmosphere was delicate right now. Fragile like the little glass swans you saw passing by the window of a dainty little shop.
"Technoblade never dies," he breathes the phrase and you know it well, "But why does it seem that you don't either?"
When the two of you return to your beds, you each have a question left hanging in the air and one to answer.
· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·
Things are a bit odd between you and Technoblade after that.
He snaps at you less and you meet his words with less sarcasm laced in your tone. It's mutual respect at most, but you're not sure if the sudden shift to acquaintanceship is just so he can get answers out of you or if he's being genuine. Techno was confusing like that. Besides, it wasn't to say the two of you completely stopped your petty quarrels that Philza had to step into. Those still definitely happened.
Your next target is a desert temple, hitting whatever ruined Nether portals on the way in hopes of getting lucky. You decide three apples should be enough to satisfy Tommy.
"So what are you going off to do after this?" Philza asks politely and you raise a brow.
"What do you mean?"
"Well, after this whole adventure is over. Surely you have somewhere to belong?" He says, cocking his head at you.
You don't immediately answer, leaning down and picking a cornflower. You twirl it between your fingers, the blue petals wavering in the breeze that slips by. You mindlessly stretch it out to Techno and he takes it after a moment of hesitation, looking at the severed plant curiously.
"I don't have anywhere to be," you reply curtly and Philza nods, sensing that the topic was dying and that you didn't want to talk about it.
Amongst the ruined portals, you find one that does, in fact, hold an Enchanted Golden Apple. Much to your delight, it meant the trip would be a lot shorter, though Philza seems entirely focused on how impossible your luck was. You set up camp in another plain, this time choosing not to sleep in favor of avoiding nightmares and another hashtag deep talk with Techno.
You sit on top of an oak tree, hiding out of radar from nighttime monsters that prowl the ground beneath your feet. Your gaze is angled upwards, eyes tracing vague constellations you have to strain to remember. You struggle to recount stories that are tied with the confusing patterns and you wish knew more about them.
You think of how Tommy must be doing without you. It's been almost five or so days since you left and about five or so days since you've been in the company of the two that reside in the tundra. You trace bird wings in the stars and think of Philza. You wonder how it had felt to fly. Before he was doomed to stay grounded, was it liberating to float amongst the clouds? Could he burn like Icarus did when he dared to kiss the sun?
His ever elusive wife intruiged you as well. Not only did her name catch your interest, but her whereabouts did as well. Perhaps she was just gone out on a trip? You don't think you've ever wanted to meet someone so badly.
Then, there was Techno. You lazily identified the constellation made for the Piglins when the first explorers of the Nether had found them. The hybrid was certainly...interesting to say the least. Perhaps in another life, you would've been friends. In this one, you'll just say that your witty attitude and his resigned monotonous tones weren't ones to mix too well. Your rocky history with each other didn't do well to aid your impressions either. You entertained the idea of being friends and you laugh at yourself for such silly fantasies. You'd be mutual acquaintances at most. You'd never get to hear him answer your question. You'll see them off back at the tundra, then leave without a single glance behind you.
Tommy needed you, anyway.
When the sun rises, you're loopy and tired. It seems that not sleeping has caught up to you and you're tempted to just fall unconscious then and there. The mobs around you burn and you sluggishly climb down between the branches before dragging yourself back to camp.
"Did you not sleep?" Phil asks when he spots your slumped form and you shrug half-heartedly.
"You have a bad habit," Techno mumbled. You flip him off to which he scoffs at.
It's not hard to find a desert temple once you hit the plush sand of the biome it resided in. You spot the rough sandstone of the structure, the pyramid peaking upwards over the horizon. You recall that the most common trap in this kind of temple was mostly explosive which meant one wrong step could end your life. You cautiously enter and sneeze when the dust invades your senses.
"There," Phil says in a hushed tone, pointing to the colorful symbol etched into the floor with terracotta.
Techno pulls out a pickaxe, easily breaking a sizable hole where you can see the gleam of chests and a very obvious pressure plate placed in the precise center of the small space. Normally the drop would be deadly, but the provided protection of your boots would aid in your fall. You just have to make sure to not set off any of the TNT and you'd be golden.
"Are you going to be okay?" Techno asks and you raise a brow at him.
"Since when do you care about my safety?" you retort and he snickers with no real humor behind it.
"I just need to know if I should be planning to make fun of you if you lose a life," he says in lieu of an excuse.
You decide to simply start some petty shit. "You said it yourself," you shrug, placing a hand on the edge of the stone, "Apparently I never die."
You don't wait for his reaction as you swing yourself over the lip of the hole, your remaining hand clutching the edge before letting yourself fall. You find it's much harder than you thought it would be to control your direction when falling so fast along with the added of weight of your armor, but you manage to stick the landing just a breath's away from the pressure plate. You pluck it off of the ground and set to raiding the chests.
There's a lot of rotting flesh which makes your nose wrinkle from the stench and string lines the corners of the wooden boxes from tiny spiders making homes within the long abandoned capsules. You snag a couple of emeralds and bars of gold before taking a deep breath and creaking open the lid of the last chest. A purple glow fills the space.
· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·
Screaming. You hear screaming. You feel the handle of a weapon in your hands. You hear the cries of Withers. You see glowing white eyes targeting you. There's skulls painted in the color of the void being shot. They pummel into your sides, leaving darkened patches of skin that will bruise like sour blueberries in a few hours. You're not fast enough. You're out of apples. You feel yourself withering away. This is where you will die. You are going to die. You are going to die. You are going to die.
You are going to die.
Hands clutch desperately at the cloth of your front shirt and you look down to see Tommy. Strong and brave and childish TommyInnit is desperately telling you to wake up. Before you can tell him that this is no shared dream of horror and that L'Manburg is really slipping through your fingers, his youthful voice evolves into one you've grown to be able to identify in the past few days. It's a voice that cares. A voice that somehow felt safe. A voice you might call a little more than an acquaintance now.
It's the voice of the man who caused the bruises to puncture your flesh.
"Wake up, you little- !"
You push the too-suffocating weight of a winged body off of you and sit up gasping as if all the oxygen in the world couldn't satisfy your need for air. Phil's bringing you fresh water already, running a hand up and down your back as you choke it down.
"You alright, mate?" Philza asks carefully when your breathing has toned down, still a beat too fast to be considered normal.
"Fine," you huff, pushing the trauma back down the corner of your mind. You're safe when you don't have to think about it.
You see Techno blankly watching you from the corner of the cave. Your gaze narrows at him, though he remains indifferent to the silent hostility.
It's safer when you don't have to think about who gave you the nightmares.
(Gif not mine.)
“Okay, are you; Georgenotfound ready?” clapping you're hands together, gathering all of the makeup products. George shaking his head with a smile on his face.
“I guess.” he shrugs not knowing a single thing about makeup. “ Can I make you look like a clown?” he asks making your face scrunch up at the thought.
“ That's up to you pretty boy, you're the one in control.”
Lets just say, by the end you ended up looking like a clown at a 5 year old's birthday party.
C!Dream x Reader
Summary: Dream pushes you too hard during a training session.
Word Count: 1k
Warnings: passing out, swearing
Request: okay so you are one of my favorite writers on this god forsaken app. so idk if you would be willing but ive had this idea and i just need to get it out. so imagine c!dream like training the reader and maybe he is working the reader a lil too hard and maybe they pass out from exhaustion and he just feels really bad abt it.
A/N: thank u for ur request, anon! also, omg one of your favourites? thank u :') sorry it's so short, but i hope it's okay!
The piercing sound of a thin blade on thick metal cuts the air. You smirk at the sound and draw your sword back. Sweat drips down your temple and collects on the back of your neck and you’re scarily lightheaded. Nonetheless, you wish you could see the look on Dream’s face as he swings his axe backwards to rest on his shoulder.
You give him a confused look. “What the fuck? Good? That’s it?” Dream nods. You throw your head back to look at the blue sky and huff in annoyance. “All that for ‘good’?” You grumble—you’re frustrated now. You’ve been training for hours, sparring and sprinting and the only sign that you’ve improved is Dream’s comment of ‘good’.
You had asked him a few days ago to help you, not wanting to be around him for any other reason, but you didn’t think that he’d train you this hard.
You throw him an incredulous look and shake your head. Although the action makes you dizzier than you’re already feeling. “No, I can’t. I feel like I’m gonna pass out," The sun is burning your skin and your muscles ache and you're beyond exhausted.
Dream shakes his head, too. “You said you wanted to get better at PvP, and I am taking my time to help you. Again.”
You roll your eyes, take a step forward, and go to counter his argument, but, instead, you slip into darkness. Dream doesn’t say anything as he watches you drop your iron sword on the grass and collapse. He isn’t going to lie, he thought you were joking.
“Come on, up! Y/n, I’m not kidding,” Dream starts walking towards you, and soon realises that you aren’t laughing at your own oh-so-funny joke. “Y/n?” Dream becomes panicked and drops to his knees beside your body. He places his axe next to him and brings his hands to your shoulders. He says your name again, and yet again, there’s no response.
“Shit,” he mumbles, shaking your shoulders. He pauses and slides his mask on top of his hair, his vision becoming a lot clearer. He furrows his eyebrows before he looks around the grassy biome that you’re in. He hears the familiar sizzle of a creeper a few yards away and grows impatient. “I need you to wake up now, this isn’t funny.”
Realising his situation, Dream attaches his axe to his back, slides his hands under your knees and back and lifts you off the ground. He adjusts his grip before spotting the creeper. Its eyes are focused on him and an odd feeling of fear drains him of any confidence he had before he takes off in the opposite direction. Dream dodges trees and vines to make it back safely to the community house and when he spots it, he sighs in relief.
“Dream? Why is your mask—why are you carrying Y/n?” Sapnap asks, confused, as he spots Dream. The dirty blonde then realises his mask isn’t covering his face, panics, but forgets it as he pushes past Sapnap to get in the house.
“I need a wet towel, Sap, and some water,” Dream places you on the couch and kneels beside you. He peels his mask from his hair and places it on the floor—he doesn’t care who sees his face at this point. Sapnap stands in shock next to the door and quickly gets to work when Dream gives him a stern look. Dream focuses on you again, brushing your hair away from your face.
He’s never been this close to you before, you look so peaceful. He’s used to hard glares and snarls from you usually; especially when you see him a little too close to your house, or when he drops you during sparring. It’s reassuring that you don’t wear that same pissed-off expression all the time.
“Here,” Sapnap holds out the towel and the bucket of water. The youngest is quite worried about you, seeing that Dream was so concerned he took off his mask.
“Thanks,” Dream brings the cold towel to your forehead and wipes away the sweat that still remained. “Sit, Sapnap.”
Sapnap’s eyes widen and he takes a seat on the crafting table next to the couch. “What happened?”
Dream sighs before he answers. “We were just training, and Y/n passed out.” He keeps it short and simple, not wanting the blame on himself, for now. Sapnap nods, but doesn’t believe a word from Dream’s mouth—he knows him too well.
The sound of you groaning draws their attention from each other to you. You groggily open your eyes. “The fuck?”
Dream breathes out in relief, smiling at Sapnap and then you. A subtle smirk plays on Sapnap’s lips when he sees the ease on Dream’s face.
“Dream?” You ask, puzzled. He nods and urges you to remain to lie down when you try to sit up. “I told you I was tired,” You say, rubbing at your eyes, not believing you were seeing him without his mask on.
“Nice one, Dream,” Sapnap rolls his eyes and leaves the two of you alone.
“I’m sorry. You said you wanted to improve, and I took that and ran with it and didn’t see that you were clearly not okay and—“ You placing your hand on his fingers makes Dream stop mid-ramble. You were quite shocked to hear him apologise—he made it clear that he wouldn’t be caught dead saying sorry.
“It’s okay, okay? Next time, we train when it’s not so hot,” You giggle, not quite back to reality yet. Dream nods, the feeling of your hand in his making him smile softly.
"I guess PvP and summer don't mix," He mumbles and exhales a small laugh. His attempt at a joke makes you cackle, though.
Maybe he isn't so bad after all.
STARSTRUCK | professor!techno
. ˚₊ 🪀꒱ prof!techno x teacher assistant!reader
━━━ . ˚₊ ꒱ by DREAMWVRLD
summary: the ancient history department gain a new teaching assistant, and professor technoblade hates how captivated his students are with them instead of his class. at least, he thought he did…
‘series masterlist’ | ‘taglist’
chapter summary: techno gets his new assistant up to speed on his classes’ curriculum, letting y/n have a chance to teach one of his lessons— that his students seem to enjoy a little too much.
word count: 5.1k
warnings: none (other than asshole techno again sorry).
. ˚₊ 🪀꒱ a/n: thanks for all your support! every 100 followers im doing double updates— so thanks for 1.6k (and now 1.7k LOL) and enjoy this chapter! <3
SLEEPING has never been Techno’s strong suit. There’s far too many nights he’s been cursed to lie awake, eyes trained on the same chipping paint that decorates his ceiling. His mind has always haunted him in a way: Pushing ideas into his head that hold dark meanings.
Even now, with his clock still bearing thirty-two minutes before his alarm is due to ring— He wonders if he’s actually gotten any sleep at all, or rather doomed to have faced his demons all night.
Finally heaving his body out of bed, he moves sluggishly to start his routine of getting ready for work. It’s never been anything complicated— His bored eyes staring back at his reflection in the small mirror of his bathroom.
Everything about the day seems dull already, and his feet haven’t even stepped into the building yet.
He knows what’s on his mind: The new presence of you sitting snugly at the back of his brain, begging to be thought about every second he’s awake. He doesn’t understand it— The struggle he faces with trying not to think about a particular person.
You’re nothing special, he’s told himself that plenty of times in his head over the course of the night. Yet, he’s still unsure if he’s saying it because he genuinely means it, or because his ego needs a boost after your successful whirlwind of an entrance to his class.
He’d never admit it’s the latter.
The early morning is filled with a crisp breeze that feels heavenly to the lungs, reminding you once more of just how magical the Autumn months could be. The large buildings you approach seem somewhat familiar on your next few days of the job, the reception area much easier to find after Phil’s introductory tour on day one.
There’s not too many students lining the halls by the time most of the staff arrive on campus, most of them turning up around the same time you’ve noticed. You’ve been trying to get there at an earlier hour than the previous days, wanting to take some free time to explore.
Today runs similarly to how most others have: Being bombarded with attention from the second you get your foot through the large double doors. Various students have seeked out your location in order to welcome you to the college, showering you with compliments for how sweet you’ve been or how beautiful you are.
It’s an unnecessary amount of praise you hadn’t expected— But with each passing day slowly easing your nerves little by little, you weren’t going to complain about the new coping mechanism which had been handed to you so graciously for free.
That’s how your Friday morning begins. A flock of students gathering around to introduce themselves, despite not actually being taught by you. It’s sweet at least, their kind offers to tour you around the building sadly shot down by your revelation that their headmaster has already beat them to it.
You catch a glimpse of Coach Punz through the bodies that surround you, his cheeky grin and thumbs up a replacement for the words ‘Good Luck’: Which you know you’ll need. Everyone in the staff room has been talking about your sudden popularity, and it’s becoming quite the flustering subject at how most of them agreed with the sudden notice you were getting.
All of them accept Techno of course— Who is still yet to utter a word to anyone in the staff room on break, including you.
Your first week on the job had not exactly been smooth-sailing in all areas as you had hoped when first starting.
A flash of pink tears your gaze away from Punz who's already eagerly wandered off towards the gym. Your eyes scan over the professor as he looks up, taking in your appearance.
Techno’s morning has already been corrupted by the likes of a bad night’s sleep, and seeing you being flocked around like some sort of museum artefact most definitely doesn’t help his mood.
You offer the male a small smile from where you’re standing, hand awkwardly extending up into a semi-wave that he fails to reciprocate. He’s already stopped walking from being met with your face, he doesn’t need to give any more attention to you then you’re already currently receiving.
With a soft sigh and a heavy heart, Techno brushes past the group of people you’ve become integrated with, long legs striding up the corridor that leads to his classroom.
Mustering a smile at the girls who are chatting loudly in front of you, you decide to excuse yourself from the conversation. “It was lovely meeting you both— I’ll see you around campus.”
Satisfied with your answer the eager students take their leave, resulting in you being left alone in the corridor for the first time that morning since you had stepped into the building.
The thought of Techno’s rude ignorance brings about a slight frown to your face, the vision of his glum expression that’s always directed at you festering in your brain until it’s all you can manage to think about.
It’s only week one, and somehow you’ve made an enemy.
Your legs move before you have time to comprehend their actions, carrying yourself through your daily journey that’s slowly becoming more familiar as the days go by.
Sure, it’s only a minute or so walk and a couple of turns, but the progress you’re making within the job has been averaging out overall.
Techno hasn’t exactly been cheering you on for it, though: And you haven’t mentioned your celebration of minor milestones in fear of his harsh judgement— Something you’ve been getting far too much of this week.
Said man is already in his classroom by the time you finally glide through the doorway, his hands occupied by tidying his desk.
Techno is sure it’s most likely a nervous habit from being near you, but he puts it down as being an ‘organised teacher’. He’s glad you just agree with him.
“Good morning.” Your voice is sweet when you greet him softly, bouncing on the balls of your feet as you scan the empty classroom for any odd jobs you could be completing for him within this time.
He falters with stacking his post-it note blocks for a second upon hearing your voice, debating on whether he should greet you at all. Finally deciding to put at least some of his ego aside, his gruff tone makes an appearance. “Mornin’...”
Taking a step closer to the desk, you assist him on slotting spare worksheets into his letter tray. “So… What’s the big plan for your class today?”
Techno hums lowly, ignoring how suddenly close you are to him as he manoeuvres his hand around yours to tidy away the papers you’re also currently trying to neaten up. “...The usual.”
Silence fills the room again, a light shuffling of paper the only noise that carries through the tension-filled air.
Needing more answers than what he’s giving out, you decide to try again.
“Will you be teaching more about Mount Olympus then?” You ask, filling the void with a question you already know the answer to.
Once again, Techno doesn’t show much interest in conversing with you. “...Yup.”
You pry further. “What part will you be teaching?”
“Uh… Recapping chapter six—”
“What is that one about?” You counter his vague response with another question, watching his fingers grip tighter on the sheet of paper in his grasp.
“I-It’s appearance, I guess—” Another short sentence is beaten by your curiosity again.
“So— About the mountain itself and stuff? Do you like teaching about that?”
A groan of defeat falls from Techno’s lips at your avid questioning, his hand slumping to the table with a harsh thud, paper spread out beneath his fingers.
“You’re gonna teach the class today— You know all the facts so just uh, keep it brief and make them write about what they know—” His words come rushed and stammered as he tries so desperately to get them out quickly, leaving you to stand in slight shock beside him.
The longer you think about it, you realise this might be the longest sentence that Professor Technoblade has uttered to you all week— And the slight progress is definitely a minor milestone you know to celebrate privately later on.
“Right… Got it.” You mutter just as quickly in response, your eyes locking on one another in a contact he’s managed to avoid all week.
His body twitches under the sudden intensity the two of you have found yourself in, and it’s only then that he realises his fingers are on top of yours.
Casting your eyes down, you catch a glimpse of his thumb overlapping your pinky from where he had pressed his hand down in frustration: But all too quickly is it removed, his arm now pressed tightly against his side.
His heart is already hammering in his chest, skin prickling with sudden heat from an exponential amount of nerves that have suddenly risen.
You’re infuriating, he knows it. His head is filled with an abundance of words that aren’t stringing together or making sense, more like his own subconscious yelling at him. Yet, the only word he seems to be able to make out is your name.
How dare you come into his room and just… do what you’re doing. He can’t even find the words to express what you’ve actually done to him, and he deems it down to just how badly you have ‘wronged’ him.
“I’ll… set up the board.” You mumble gently, ignoring the slight prick in your heart that occurs from seeing him act so violated at the thought of your skin touching. It wasn’t meant on purpose, of course— In fact the more you thought about it, the ordeal was actually his fault for not looking where he placed his hand down.
The scratch of chalk fills the awkward quietness of the room as you begin to write out the date and subject title for the lesson, Techno stood still in his previous spot as he stares blankly at the wall in front of him: His hand cradled tightly by his thigh.
Students begin to fill the room by the time you move on to writing the learning objectives, trying to keep your handwriting as neat as Techno usually has it.
Their eyebrows raise in confusion at the sight of their professor unmoving whilst staring at the back wall solemnly, seemingly lost in his own thoughts.
A few of them snicker quietly, which quickly alerts the man of his dazed state.
He’s quick to shoot them a stern glare, watching their lips pull tight as they find their seats quietly.
He takes his place in front of his desk as usual, the large wooden furniture held in the centre of the front section of the room. You round the spruce wood to hover beside him stiffly, giving yourself a couple feet to avoid the awkward encounter you faced mere minutes ago.
Techno waits until his students are comfortable before beginning to speak— Including Tommy, who flies through the door with seconds to spare until he’s deemed as ‘late’.
“This week has been good— We’ve seen some great work since we’ve been back for a new term!” There’s a slight ounce of enthusiasm to his voice, but it’s not surprising that his students don’t return it.
Instead they stare blankly at him, blinking almost in sync out of confusion at his words. You eye him too, a quick side glance of confusion considering all they’ve done this week is read out loud and annotate large bodies of text.
Techno looks almost desperately at his students for some sort of praise, but he receives nothing more than a few pitiful nods and a yawn at the back of the classroom from Tommy.
You make sure not to laugh at that, not needing a repeat of your mistake from day one.
“Well then— Because of your excellent work with me so far, I’m gonna hand off this lesson to Y/N for an hour so they can try out our class.” His explanation is met with much more enthusiastic nods of approval, making you almost scared to see Techno’s reaction.
He manages to keep a calm and collected manner which you’re thankful for, but he doesn’t seem to budge from his spot.
“Thanks, Professor…” You trail off as you step forward to try and take his place at the front, watching him eye you hesitantly as he stands. “Uh… Professor?”
Shaking from his urge to make you sit at the back of the class again and take control of his lesson like he desperately wants to, he finally takes a step to his right with a forced smile.
“Right— Sorry. Take it away!” He lets out dramatically as though that somehow might ease the tension between you slightly, but all it does is make his students more amused.
You watch the tall male side step his way slowly to the back of the room with his notepad and pen, eyeing your every move as you take his spot— The position you’ve observed him standing in for the last four days.
It’s more nerve-wracking than you had anticipated to be standing in front of the young adults before you, who sit eager-eyed and patiently for you to begin their lesson for the day. Your week of hardship in Techno’s classroom has all led up to this moment, finally able to step out of his shadow after having to bend to the man’s every beck and call.
You don’t want to be the hated professor that he’s unknowingly making himself into.
You want to make a change.
“Hello, everyone…” Your voice is a lot more timid than intended, a slight crack between the words that has Techno smirking from his seat at the back of the class.
His body is much too large for the small plastic chair he’s residing in, legs spread wide as he slumps down slightly, notebook in hand which is ready to be filled with the horrors of your first lesson of teaching. Techno quite literally sits back and waits for you to fail before his eyes, needing that booster kick to his ego.
Swallowing away your nerves at the many pairs of eyes that await your next sentence, you try to keep yourself as calm as possible. Even if you don’t resent Techno in the way he suddenly does for you, it doesn’t mean you want to give him the satisfaction of teaching his lesson awfully.
“Today we’re gonna be moving onto the appearance of Mount Olympus— Really delving into what made it such a magical place in history books...” You lean onto his desk to rest against it, slowly becoming more comfortable in the role.
Your movement has Techno’s interest peaked, far more than he wants it to be— Yet he can’t find himself able to look away as you copy the position he’s sat in many times before.
Students look amongst themselves at the topic of the lesson, silently discussing it with one another as if they can speak telepathically. Techno feigns it as distraction and doesn’t scold them for what he believes is their ‘disinterest’. Any subtle points he can score, he’s willing to play dirty for.
You pay no mind to his smugness, letting it radiate around the room just like he intends it to. Instead, you look back towards the desk to see the worksheets he has provided for the lesson.
As expected, they’re all writing-based essay questions which might as well have the word ‘boredom’ written across them in thick, red biro.
Spinning around to face the class of anticipating kids again, a smile settles on your face at the idea of an activity that’ll engage them much more than copying passages out of a textbook.
“As you know, we’ve already covered chapter six in this week’s lessons—” You begin, making sure to use your arms to gesture towards them in hopes of being slightly more interactive with the class than Techno is. They’re more than likely tired of his hunched over slump. “—So let’s use our notes as a reference to draw out what we think Mount Olympus would have looked like!”
Techno’s heart practically stops in his chest upon hearing the words leave your lips, on the brink of passing out when he witnesses the excited murmurs of the students in his class.
It happens way too fast for him to comprehend— Pencil cases being opened to emit an array of coloured pens, sheets of plain paper handed out by yourself as you watch the kids begin to sketch and draw the land of some of the many gods and goddesses in Greek history.
His pen presses down into the notepad until it begins to bleed, the sheer force of the action coming from his unprecedented anger. The man watches in disbelief at the heartful chatter and bustling atmosphere of his class— A sound that has never before been seen there.
Your boots click along the floor as you float between desks, giving out praise and some helpful suggestions towards everyone’s work. Their creativity is incredible— Imaginative minds and even more talented artists, it seems, all masked by Techno’s inability to admit his ‘amazing philosophy’ might not be as good as he thinks it is.
A title sits on the opened page of his notebook, the words ‘Y/N’S FAULTS’ etched in thick black ink with numerous underlines. A bullet point sits under it, drawn at the beginning of the lesson where he had been ready to fill the page with many more of your mistakes.
The page lays untouched for the rest of the lesson, despite the occasional accidental scribble that comes from him watching you too closely with his lips parted in dubiety.
Everyone in the classes’ mood seems to have been lifted by your task, their desks decorated by lush shades of greens, golds, whites— An array of colours that truly could only be described as ‘magical’. Their constant chatter keeps you reminded of their enjoyment, sometimes sneakily zoning into conversations to hear them swapping drawing tips, discussing colour choices or simply praising you for introducing such a fun Friday afternoon activity.
Passing by the back row, you ignore Techno’s glum stare with the floor and instead focus on Tommy; The boy keeps his back arched over his desk, almost hiding his drawing in a way.
“Hey…” You utter gently in his direction, watching his mop of blonde curls bounce up as he locks eyes with you. He offers a gentle smile, much different to the usual cheeky grins he flashes Techno every time he’s been caught doing something wrong. “How are you finding the task?”
“Great.” He’s quick to answer, his fingers scribbling rapidly across the page, green pencil wedged tightly between his fingers. “Brilliant. Excellent. I’m the greatest artist in this class.”
You offer him a chuckle, eyebrows raised slightly in amusement and somewhat playful doubt. “Uh huh? Let’s have a look then.”
The boy is quick to snatch his drawing up into the air, showing off the general triangle shape of a large mountain, and a few poorly drawn square shapes for the ‘grand palace’ that he explains it to be. “It’s got a lot of character, no?”
“Oh, totally—” You agree with him, holding your hands up in surrender. “I’m sorry I ever doubted your skills as an artist.”
Tommy falls into laughter, genuine and happy joy: A sound that heavily contrasts his usual sarcastic chuckles or angered sneers. Techno finds his head tilting up upon hearing the sound, watching your head tilt back as you join the young boy in glee with a hearty giggle of your own.
Your hair ruffles slightly from the movement which he observes. It’s sort of fluffy in a way, kind of how he imagines the clouds to look like around Mount Olympus’ palace. And your smile is sort of mesmerising, perhaps like the golden statues situated around the grounds that show off the various important beings of the—
He’s quick to snap out of his sudden daydream, zoning back into the class to see you have wandered back to the front of the room to help out another student.
Why on earth is he now participating in your little activity? He had no interest in your stupid methods of teaching, or you. He repeats that mantra a few times until it’s clear in his head, disgusted at how he’s managed to let his mind slip to such a dreadful place.
He avoids gazing your way until the bell rings, watching the chorus of students lift from their seats in sync.
“Thanks a lot for the great first class, guys! Make sure to leave your drawings at the front— Hey! Even you Tommy—” You manage to catch the boy before he can dart out of the room, hesitantly handing it over to you with a bashful smile.
You push a hand through his hair to ruffle the curls lightly, watching him roll his eyes playfully before patting your shoulder, dashing out of the room to catch up with his friends for lunch.
Collecting the drawings takes less time than you thought, the hoard of kids excitedly handing in their work to be marked by you, accompanied by soft praises from them at how fun the class had been.
“Amazing lesson Y/N, thank you!” One of the girls speaks gently, placing her drawing onto the pile in your hands. You smile sweetly, patting her back.
“Wonderful work— See you Monday, okay?” The girl exits the class with her friend who both wave happily, leaving the room empty except for you and your colleague.
A silence fills the room that brings a thick and heavy tension, but the nature of it is unknown, and for Techno: Undecided.
He’s unsure of his emotions, or why he feels such hatred towards you. All he knows is that his class is slipping through his fingertips, and it’s all your fault.
“I think the class went well today.” You ease the tension with some praise, shuffling the papers into a pile before hitting the bottom of the sheets against the desk to straighten them. “They’ve got a really good visual reference of Mount Olympus to help immerse them in the book now.”
Slotting the sheets into the letter tray, you cast your eyes up to look over at him.
Techno stays slumped in his seat, the pen between his fingers tapping against his notebook to a rhythm you can’t quite make out. His eyes are trained to the floor beside your feet, almost as if he’s looking right through you.
You maintain your stare.
“Yeah…” It’s the only thing Techno is able to get past his lips, tongue wetting over them to ease the dryness that has risen as a result of the nervous thinking he’s been doing for the duration of your lesson. It’s an action that has you slightly tense, awaiting the judgement that inevitably will unfold.
You don’t have to wait much longer.
“—Didn’t like how y’didn’t stick to the lesson plan, though.”
Ah, of course. There it is, Professor Technoblade’s inability to get his head out of his ass. You bite back your tongue from making the comment aloud, considering it may be better to keep that one to yourself.
Instead, you offer him a smile.
“Thought it would be good to introduce a new teaching technique—” You can barely get the words out before he’s speaking again, using any opportunity he can to pounce.
“I teach my class a certain way for a reason, Y/N.” His tone is just as gruff as it always is, his gaze finally lifting to settle on your face.
It’s a bold move from him, considering the fact he’s now struggling to tear it away.
You keep your eyes locked with his, clasping your hands together in front of you as you stand awkwardly at the front of his room. “I was just trying something to help them learn better.”
Techno scoffs, tossing his notepad and pen onto the nearest desk before planting his hands onto his thighs, pushing his body from the chair he’s been secluded to all lesson.
“I already have my philosophy for this year— Let’s just stick to what works, yeah?” His tall frame hangs several feet above you, blocking out the sun step by step as he closes in on you slightly, stalking up the small aisle between the rows of desks.
Intimidated by his height and the way he drinks in your slight fear with a smirk, you cross your arms over your chest and allow your mouth to move before your brain comprehends it. “What works best for the kids, or for you?”
Silence echoes loudly in the room as you close your mouth near-on immediately, watching his jaw tighten at your backtalk. His breath comes out heavy from above you as you scan his face for signs of anger, apologetic pleading written all over yours.
Techno lets the anger that simmers the surface of his skin die down, deciding it best not to run his mouth at his one week old assistant.
Leaning down towards you, you feel his breath fan across your face before spreading over your ear, his next words dripped with distaste, sourness and downright disapproval of your confident behaviour. “You’re five minutes late to your lunch break.”
Grabbing your stuff doesn’t happen fast enough, various items shoved to the bottom of the tote in a crumpled manner as you speed from his room as fast as your legs can carry you. Techno can practically feel the embarrassment that radiates off you, his pride reboosted once more at the knowledge he’s managed to put you back into your place.
Or at least, the place he believed you were supposed to be in.
Your mind is infested with the man, thoughts running wild at how you had let yourself stoop to his level of childishness when you had vowed to try to get to know him civilly instead.
Stepping into the staff room is a much needed breath of fresh air, hoping to calm the heat that has your skin so flushed after yet another awkward encounter with Professor Technoblade.
You claim your seat beside Coach Sapnap again for the fifth time this week, giving him a weak chuckle when he swings his arm around your shoulder, already engaging you in some dramatic story of his classes which you’ve come to learn is most likely utter bullshit.
You give him a chance to speak, however— Although fake, they can be rather entertaining after all.
Phil sits in the corner of the room as he observes you with a gentle smile, heart warming at the sight of you getting along so well with his other staff members.
Though he’s quick to take note of the silent nature you’ve found yourself in upon entering the room, a tell-tale sign that something has happened prior to make you so stuck in your own head.
He waits a moment, spoon left lying limp against the side of his bowl as he waits for Techno to join him for lunch like they usually do on Friday afternoons.
Five minutes pass, and his pink-haired friend he’s grown astonishingly close with doesn’t pass through the threshold of the door.
Leaving his soup abandoned, and you in the welcoming arms of the PE department: Phil ventures out of the staff room and along the familiar path towards Techno’s classroom and office.
It’s no surprise that he finds the man there: He knew there was nowhere else he could be. He’s always been quite the introvert, and it’s even more evident now as he finds him at his desk with a lonely sandwich that’s been tossed to one side half-eaten.
Spread out in front of him are his classes’ drawings, his hands occupied by shifting through them slowly.
“Hey mate—” Phil’s voice startles him from his thoughts, the paper in his hands swaying towards the surface of his desk. He sighs in relief at the sight of the interruption being none other than Phil. “Sorry, didn’t mean to disturb your work flow.”
Techno rubs at the bridge of his nose, a sigh escaping. “I wasn’t working… I just— Come in. Did you need something?” The man asks, cutting himself off from expressing his own feelings of self-doubt as Phil strides across the room.
He perches upon one of the desks that lay opposite Techno’s, resting against it. “What’s on your mind?”
Giving him an expressionless stare, Techno debates whether or not he should express his conundrum that is you. Phil shoots him a knowing look, already feeling the sadness that radiates from his friend in waves. He knows better than to elude the headmaster— Sometimes Techno thinks that man knows him better than he knows himself.
Another sigh falls from his lips. “It’s about Y/N— And their irritating habit to keep ruining my lessons.”
Phil perks up in surprise upon hearing this, hiding his shock well by remaining stoic. After only hearing the most utmost of positive things about you, the man finds it hard to believe that all this time you’ve been a terrible teacher.
But alas, he allows his friend to vent.
“They just keep— keep changing my lessons and… and making me look a fool!” He exasperates dramatically, his hands waving into the air slightly before coming to thud back down against his desk as he looks to the headmaster desperately.
Phil remains neutral.
“There’s something annoying about them, Phil.” Techno admits quietly, lips pursed in an attempt to plead his case that has little to no evidence. For how could he explain the problem he has with you when he doesn’t even understand it himself?
Phil lets himself nod gently at the man’s words, seeing the desperation to be understood flash across his face. The older man knows too well what this is: But he acts unknowing. A plan has already festered in his head.
“Give them a couple more chances.” Phil instructs, ignoring how Techno deflates into his chair.
“No buts.” He cuts Techno off, waving a finger towards him sternly. The professor keeps his mouth shut. “I want you to give them the benefit of the doubt. They’re only here to help you— Remember that.”
Despite how every bone in his body wants to disagree with Phil’s words, Techno finally nods once in understanding to his plea for peace.
The man goes back to his lunch quietly, finishing his sandwich with a little more comfort at the knowledge his one and most likely only friend in the building is with him: Even if he’d never admit that to anyone, including himself.
Phil watches his eyes cast back down to the drawings as he eats, a knowing smile playing on his lips at the obliviousness of his friend.
If Techno was unwilling to cooperate with his assistant, Phil would find a way to bring the two together in any way he could.
Even if it was without their knowledge.
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Guys help, i still haven’t watched mcc yet because i’m in Mexico.Also my social battery is at 0.5%.I almost got a fever the other day turns out i have a THROAT INFECTION.wtf.Just started my period today cramps are absolutely murdering me and i get no freaking service anywhere 😃✋Please send help.
plus a pic of my dog :)
You Laugh, You Lose, Couples Addition
Pairing: cc!wilbur x gn!reader
Author's Note: i started rewatching wilbur's you laugh, you lose and got inspiration for this. so please enjoy some chaotic wilbur fluff. -Faceless
"So chat, this You Laugh, You Lose is gonna be a little different," Wilbur began, moving his glasses up the bridge of his nose as he looked the chat. "Cause this time I have a guest- but not an ordinary guest! No this is a very important person- no it is not Kim Kardashian, what the fuck!? No the person is Y/N. Y/N come here."
Y/N slid in from out of frame, bumping into Wilbur's chair until they came to a stop, a goofy grin on they're face. "Hellooo! Who ever said I'm Kim Kardashian, love ya!"
"Y/N- no." Wilbur laughed, shaking his head as he wrapped an arm they're shoulders. "Y/N is here to participate in a You Laugh, You Lose today, folks!"
"Hm, I thought you said we were reacting to... what was it... ah, yes- monkey's slapping asses." Y/N jokingly asked, making Wilbur look over at them wide eyed, before going into a fit of laughter.
"What?" Wilbur asked back, confusion on his face as he stared at his significant other. "What the hell do you watch on the internet?"
"Oh, some weird shit." Y/N answered, letting out a laugh as well.
"Why are we dating again?" Wilbur asked once again, glancing over at chat to see then laughing at what Y/N had said.
"Because you love me so much and love how I-" Y/N was cut off quickly by Wilbur as he placed a hand over they're mouth, stopping them from finishing they're sentence.
"I already regret bringing you on." Wilbur shook his head, knowing this You Laugh, You Lose was going to be very chaotic.
Don't forget me, Who are you?
Warning: Ghostbur dying, none really / Sorta heavy Angst
Pairing: Ghostbur x gn! Reader dsmp Au
Summary: Ghostbur was always forgetful, you knew that damn well. You just hope he would never forget you. He wouldn't...right?
Notes: This is for @cr0wbonezz-wr1ting-inc 1.4k follower writing event!! I'm so happy for them and this lovely piece is for them!! I hope you enjoy this Angst piece with Ghostbur. After this, I'll be focusing on requests.
Ghostbur couldn't remember a lot.
He was always forgetful about almost everything.
He stuttered over the names of his loved ones, maybe blanking out on some big event that just happened, or just cutting into a new topic as he forgot what everyone was talking about.
Ghostbur, he was always forgetful, you knew that first hand.
But dear Ender you couldn't help but love him with all your heart. You stayed with him, through all the hardships and trials, through the forgetful dates and events. You wiped away his tears when things became too much for him.
As to you, it was all worth it in the end.
On the good days, Ghostbur remembered your name, he remembered the moments of yesterday, and topics you just talked about.
He remembered taking Friend on a walk, with you tagging along. Making sure to stop and rest under some tree for shade.
Ghostbur would sometimes roll over to face you, his smile large as he would whisper something to you. "Can I tell you things I know?"
And you didn't even need to think about that, nodded your head and waited for his words with a small chuckle.
But you already knew half of the things he was going to say.
How the lilac smelled, so sweet and nice.
How the fire felt under his ghostly fingertips. Warm and dirty.
Or how sweet fresh bread tasted in his mouth. How can a ghost eat? You didn't know, but it was nice.
You heard it all before, but you wanted to hear it again. These were his memories, not Wilbur's memories (you thought that was his name), Ghostbur's. You wanted to hear these memories of his till you could recite it with no thought.
On the bad days, Ghostbur couldn't remember a thing. No one, nothing. He would have this blank look. Eyes empty glaring at anything he caught.
He couldn't remember you. No matter how hard you tried to tell him. Sometimes it would take you a few minutes for his memories to come back, sometimes it would take hours, the worst was a whole day.
And the overwhelming joy you felt when his eyes grew wide, all of his memories came crashing into him again. It never failed to make you smile.
It proved it was all worth it to you.
It was worth it right?
But deep down in your heart, you knew this would all come crashing down on you. This lovely relationship you had would turn to dust, all the love and memories slipping between your fingers as your lover either left you or forgot you.
You knew it would happen but you dared to turn a blind eye, the truth hurting too much.
So why did you allow Tommy to take Ghostbur away? He planned to take Dream down, killing the man who caused pain to everyone on the Smp. Yet he wanted to take Ghostbur with him.
You shouldn't have allowed him to. It was a stupid plan already, why did he need to drag Ghostbur with him-
But you did, and your heart twisted in dread as Tommy ran up to you. The boy's eyes wide and body shaking, but most importantly, with no Ghostbur floating beside him.
You didn't even have time to ask anything. Tommy took your arm, tight grip and he started to drag you somewhere. He ignored your cries and it scared you to no end. What happened?
And sadly, maybe luckily, you got your answer so soon.
Dragging you over the glass that covered the crater of L'manburg and breaking away at a bit of a stone wall, a blue and golden shrine was revealed to you.
Your breath was stolen out of your throat as your eyes focused on a man that wore your ghostly lover's sweater. The sweater that popped against the brown and black the tall man wore.
"Wilbur, what are you doing here?!"
No no no no-
This couldn't have happened.
Tommy promised, he promised Ghostbur would be safe.
That Wilbur, whoever this man was, would never come back-
You didn't even realize you had said that out loud till you heard a whimper come from Tommy. Both men's heads turning to you in shock.
Tommy looked ready to cry, tears threatening to spill from his eyes and you were sure you didn't look any different from him. It was hard to keep your tears at bay thanks mostly to his damn yellow sweater. You hated it, you fucking hated it-
So with gritted teeth, you strolled up to Wilbur, standing right in front of him and gripping the soft yellow material in between your fingers. "Where's Ghostbur?"
Your anger started to swirl when Wilbur didn't give you a response. His smirk stayed on his sickly pale face, his red eyes burning holes into yours. It only made you cower away, but just a moment before you sobbed. "Do you remember me?"
That made his eyes widened. He staggered on what to say, mouth opening then closing into a thin line as you continued.
"Please..Don't forget me.."
And you felt your heart shatter as Wilbur, the damn bastard you already despised with all your heart, grabbed your wrist that held ghost-his sweater and unleashed your grip.
You heard Tommy cry behind you as Wilbur's smirk returned. You saw the memories of you and Ghostbur, both bad and good slip away from your fingers as Wilbur looked into your eyes once again, they held little sympathy for you.
"Who are you?"
Ghostbur looked up at the moving screen, red letters glitching out or distorting into a language he couldn't recognize.
He felt cold. It was so cold here.
No matter how hard he hugged his sweater, the coldness hugged his body even tighter.
Where was he? Why is it so cold?
The screen glitched again, this time making a noise that made Ghostbur jump.
There was new text on the screen, but instead of the usual taunts. It was something different.
"Please..Don't forget me.." he only had a few seconds to look at the words till the screen was distorted. The taunts returning to the screen again, so the Ghost forced himself to look at the grey brick floor instead.
Who said that? Was it Tommy? Maybe Phil? He didn't know, but he was happy. Someone wanted him to remember them. Probably someone who cared about him.
He turned his head to the screen again when he heard it distort and he smiled. Would he get his answer?
'F/N' the letters typed out.
Ghostbur didn't know why, he honestly didn't but his smile only grew bigger. For once in this hell-hole, his chest filled with warmness. He sobbed in joy as he kept staring at the screen, seeing the name disappear with another glitch before the screen turned off.
"F/N.." he choked out a sob as he fell to the floor, wrapping his arms around himself again as the warmness spread throughout his body. He laughed.
"F/N...That's a pretty name!"
Here, Have Some Blue
Pairing: c!ghostbur x platonic!gn!reader
Author's Note: don't mind me, just having some missing ghostbur hours here. -Faceless
Y/N was wandering aimlessly around, not really having a destination in mind while they walked, just mostly trying to clear they're head. They were trying to calm themselves after a fight they had had with, Fundy, so before they could say anything they'd regret, they turned and stalked off. So now they were wandering through an oak forest, until they came across the flower field that they'd go to when upset.
Though, Y/N wasn't entirely expecting to see another person their, sitting in the middle of the flowers and smiling when a bee came near.
"Oh, hello Y/N!" Ghostbur called from his spot, looking over to see his friend standing on the clearing of the forest. Though his smile slightly faltered when he saw the conflicted look on they're face. "Oh no, Y/N is everything okay?"
"Huh- oh yeah, I'm fine." Y/N responded, looking away when Ghostbur got up and began to hurriedly walk towards them.
"No you're not. Here-" Ghostbur started, digging through his pockets until he pulled out some blue. "Have some blue!"
Y/N couldn't help but let a little smile grace they're lips when they took the blue, slightly feeling better. "Thanks, Ghostbur. I feel better already."
Ghostbur couldn't help but smile wide at that, and then took they're hand. "Great, now come on! Join me and the bees!"
Y/N laughed as they followed after him, a smile gracing they're face. They definitely didn't feel as angry or anything after having some blue.
𝐭𝐡𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐝𝐬 | 𝐪𝐮𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐭𝐲
➛ pairing: quackity x gn!reader
➛ note: this was from a request i got not too long ago, but tumblr decided to be a dick and wipe out my inbox. this was originally gonna be part of the drabble thing i did, but i felt bad about my requests being closed for a while. they’re still closed as i am working on both ‘the frankenstein chronicles’ and my wattpad book ‘windfall’. those are my main focuses right now, but i decided to just make this a full length one. and my god, this one just ain’t it chief and literally not @ me saying i wanted to focus on the other boys a bit more
➛ genre: angst, fluff
➛ warnings: cursing, fighting (arguments), crying
➛ summary: it seemed like quackity’s mood tonight matched the thunder clouds outside. it was only a matter of time before lightning struck, making him snap.
it’s been at least 8 hours since he’s left that room, huddled up in front of his pc with his dark hues bloodshot from fighting with his annoying editing software. it’s been a while since you’ve seen him as he was too preoccupied with cutting and manipulating footage of his latest stream, leaving you pacing in a worried mess. you swore the last time he ate was a single bowl of cereal from early that morning.
you waited. and waited. and waited for him to crawl out of his little dungeon, ready to feed him with enough love to make up for his lack of presence. it wasn’t until the 6 hour mark when you began to worry. yes, quackity likes to take his time with his work to prefect it, but it usually never lasts this long.
maybe you were overreacting. maybe you were just feeling particularly clingy tonight. hell, maybe you’re just lonely and craved his touch. whatever the reason behind you’re stressful pacing was, it didn’t help the concern bubbling in your stomach.
you knew how worn down your boyfriend seemed lately. between his slumped shoulders and the purple rings under his tired eyes, it was quite hard to miss. perhaps it was time for a break.
your footsteps were quiet, fragile and delicate as you walked along the cool tiled kitchen floor, quickly grabbing a cold water bottle from the fridge. it was silent in your shared house, the occasional rumble of thunder being the only white noise to help break your racing thoughts. it used to be filled with laughter, soft little kisses, and gentle ‘i love you’s. now, all left in its wake were echoed curses and icy air.
you were hesitant to pull open his office door, the metal knob burning against your skin. alex was quite particular with his workspace. he liked to be left alone and undisturbed during his time at his computer, deeming the constant interruptions to plague his creative mindset. but, it’s been a while, so you believed this would be an exception.
as soon as you opened the door, you peered in, seeing his slumped over figure against the light of his two monitors. it was almost as if you could physically feel how upset he was, the aura changing as soon as you entered the room.
“baby?” your voice made him jump before turning to you. that’s when you seen how truly unwell he looked. his skin was pale, hues droopy and dull, and cheeks sunken: he looked exhausted.
“y-y/n. jesus, you scared me.” even his voice was shaky. “what are you doing in here?” he asked, closely watching how you slowly made your way over to him, towering over his slouched form.
you handed him the water bottle, letting him take it before speaking up. “i just wanted to check up on you. you’ve been in here since 7 and it’s 2:12 right now. i wanted to make sure you were alright.”
“yeah. i’m fine. the subtitles for the video are being an ass tonight, so it’s taking me a while. but, everything’s good.” alex explained, taking a quick glance over at his screen.
“you’ve been at it for a while. don’t you think it’s time for a break? we can watch some reruns of breaking bad and cuddle.” you offer. “it’ll be better if you come back to it refreshed.”
“as much as i’d love to, babe, i should get this video done. it needs to be finished at least by tomorrow night so i can upload it this weekend.” you frowned at his words, brows creasing in distaste.
“but, you’ve been working on it non-stop for hours. you need a little break and some food in your system. you’ll get sick otherwise.” you attempted to reason, reaching to place a tender hand on his clothed shoulder.
quackity tried to repress the slightly annoyed sigh in in his throat by clenching his jaw. he appreciated you checking in on him, really, but what he didn’t appreciate was you trying to pull him from his work.
“listen, y/n, i need to get this done.” he stated.
“just a couple hours. that’ll be enough time for you to take a nap and eat something. by the time you come back, you’ll have a clearer mind.” you persuaded.
“i really can’t, y/n.” he replied.
“but-“ you were cut off, alex’s dark eyes now a shade darker boring into yours.
“y/n,” his once trembling tone now firm with irritation. “please. this needs to be done and i can’t do that if you’re constantly breathing down my back.”
your hues were now blow wide, surprise and shock now running through your veins at his harsh response. “w-well, i-i was just- i didn’t-“
“please leave so i can get back to work in peace.” he snapped again. in an instant, your astonishment was replaced with offense and anger.
“what the fuck, alex? i was just trying to make sure you’re okay and not hurting yourself over your stupid videos.” you hissed, arms crossed over your chest. it seemed like you struck a nerve in him as he instantly stood from his seat.
“‘stupid videos?’ y/n, do you not understand that this is my job that you’re insulting? my work? my projects?” he questioned, pupils narrowed. “i understand you want to spend time with me, but calling my videos stupid is a real dick move, especially since i put everything into them.”
you blinked. “well, it’s stupid that you’re literally harming yourself over them. how can you not see that it’s hurting you?”
“no, that’s something you can’t seem to understand! this is my life’s work right here!” he challenged. “but, of course, you wouldn’t understand. no, because all you’re concerned about is literally everybody’s business, but your’s. something that you have no purpose, reason, or place in.”
the ache in your heart at his words hurt. by god, did it hurt. a harsh stinging of tears in your eyes blurred your vision. “are really saying that i don’t matter?”
“i don’t know! you’re always up my ass and it’s exhausting hearing you constantly scold me about eating or drinking or even using the goddamn bathroom! why would i want someone to do that when i’m a grown ass man? i don’t need a fucking babysitter.”
tears were freely falling down your flushed cheeks. you didn’t know if they were red from either anger or embarrassment, maybe from both. but either way, it didn’t stop the cracking in your chest you seem to literally hear in your ears. what made it even worse was that alex didn’t seem to care either.
you sniffled, cursing yourself from your inability to stop crying before clearing your throat. “i guess you’re right. i’ll see my way out then.”
you didn’t have the energy to fight him anymore, but it felt even worse when alex exclaimed “thank god.”
you turned and rushed out of the room, making sure to shut the door softly behind you. another rumble of thunder shook the house softly, however, it didn’t seem to phase you that a rainstorm was pouring outside as you slipped on a pair of your shoes. you made sure to leave your phone and keys on the counter, the only thing in your grasp was a thin jacket you snatched from the coat rack. you threw it on before walking out into the depressing weather.
it wasn’t until a few hours later when alex sigh in contentment, leaning back through hazy vision from his completed work. he just completed this weekend’s video and, despite his trouble with it, he was pretty excited over it’s end result.
he peered down at his monitor, glancing at the clock in the screen’s corner. 4:04 a.m.
damn, he’s been at it for a good while. he reached up and rubbed his aching hues, the blue light making his already fuzzy sight even more blurry before letting his palms drag down his face and yawned.
a sudden sound at his door made him glance over, expecting to see you standing behind it. however, in your place was tiger who waltzed in lazily. seeing the feline in your spot made alex’s brows furrow, confusion taking over your absence.
he stood up from his chair and trudged out of his studio. maybe you were in the living room or kitchen. those two ideas were shot down though as he was greeted by a dimly lit and empty den.
he checked the bedrooms and bathroom: you’re still not there. he blinked, you weren’t in the house. he wracked his brain, trying to find anymore options of where you could’ve been when the events that happened mere hours earlier flashed in his mind.
absolute dread replaced his curiosity, hearing the sound of his voice saying “something you have no purpose, reason, or place in” echoing against his missing pulse. he really fucking said that to you. he really said you had no place in his life.
the amount of disgust he had towards himself at that very moment was unfathomable. how dare he said such nasty words to you, only while you were checking in on him.
in an instant he pulled out his phone, hands trembling as he dialed your number from memory. he placed it up to his ear, listening closely to the dull ringing of the line connecting when a familiar tune began to play from the kitchen.
he ran towards it, seeing your phone and keys left on the countertop, right next to the door. the tune of the special ringtone you made just for his contact and his contact only bounced off the walls. he cursed loudly as he hung up, glancing over to see a pair of your shoes missing.
tears sprung in his eyes at his realization. you had left. and, to be honest, with the sound of venom in his words replaying in his thoughts, he really couldn’t blame you.
his bit his lip harshly, drawing the smallest amount of blood as he slumped down at the dining table, burying his face in his hands. he was trying to repress the burning of his waterline as he sniffled. he was never one to cry over an argument, but the idea of you disappearing made his skin crawl, especially with the way he acted towards you.
he began to overthink, trying to figure out where you have gone, when you left, when you’ll be back, whether you’re safe or not. the millions of questions screaming at him were causing a headache.
god, how long have been gone? was it just recently? or was it hours ago when he was too stubborn to look away from his computer? have you really been gone for two hours?
alex glanced up, his watering orbs glancing out the foggy window into the pouring rain. did he really drive you out into that? what if you were to get hurt? he couldn’t live with himself if you were injured over his stupidity.
he continued to sit, a few scarce tears managing to slip down his cheeks as he waited. he silently prayed, asking whatever power there was that you’d return to him safely, where he could hold you and give you a thousand little kisses, all while he’d whisper how much you truly meant to him. he’d cover the aching wounds he left on you with bandaids of sweet words and gentle touches.
until then, all he can do is wait.
by the time you arrived back home, the sun has finally begun to break in through the storm clouds, creating an odd mix of dark grays, blues, pale yellows, and dull oranges.
you were drenched. the jacket you snatched on your way out did little to nothing for you, leaving you a shivering mess of wet clothes and damp hair. it didn’t stop the violent crack still left in your chest though.
you didn’t want to go back, not yet at least. you didn’t want to hear anymore poison that left alex’s mouth. but, you were tired. tired and cold and sad and just heartbroken.
you were expecting a lot of things when you walked in. maybe a dark and chilly house. maybe a sleeping tiger. hell, you even expected alex to still be angry with you.
but, what surprised you was a boarder line weeping quackity sitting at the kitchen table. the moment the door opened, he met your red-rimmed hues and his heart immediately broke. seeing you cry and being the cause of it hurt him to no end.
he shot up, watching closely at how you trembled from your soaked clothes, and instantly pulled you close to him. he wrapped his arms around your shoulders and held you tightly against his chest, all while he buried his face into the crook of your neck. as much as you didn’t want to, you melted into him, his body basically a heater for your icicle of a form. your eyes squeezed shut, feeling another wave of tears burn them as you clutched onto his hoodie.
“i’m sorry. i’m so, so sorry, my baby.” he whispered against your skin, feeling his lips graze across your shoulder. “i didn’t mean it. i didn’t mean any fucking word of it.”
your jaw clenched, eyes starting to hurt from forcing them shut.
“i love you, you hear me?” he pulled back, his own swollen hues boring into your matching ones. he placed a warm hand to your cheek, softly caressing it with his thumb. “i love you so goddamn much. and all of that bullshit i said is not true. you mean absolutely everything to me. and i appreciate how much you care for me. i appreciate how you bring me food or something to drink while i’m working. i appreciate you telling me when it’s time for a break. i appreciate that you were trying to take care of me when i was a total dick to you. i appreciated you so, so much, love.”
you broke, letting the building tears slip from your sticky lashes and cascade down your face before speaking up. “i’m sorry, too.”
alex shook his head. “no, you listen to me. you did nothing wrong.”
“no, it wasn’t entirely all you.” you mutter, voice horse and weak. “i shouldn’t have insulted your videos like that. i just didn’t want you to hurt yourself over them. i know how much you love making videos, but it hurts me to see you not taking care of yourself.”
alex leaned down and placed a light peck to your forehead, letting his touch linger a second before pulling away. “i guess we’re both assholes, huh?”
you let out a watery chuckle from his words, causing him to let out a light giggle as well. “here, let’s get you changed. you’re soaked and freezing.”
he pulled you along with him, leading you to your shared bedroom with his fingers laced with yours. in a flash, he handed you a little pile of his clothes, ushering you into the bathroom to change. when you slipped on his hoodie, you were instantly swallowed with the familiar scent of alex’s cologne, both warming and calming you.
now clothed in his pullover and a pair of his nike sweats, you trudged back out, seeing your boyfriend snuggled underneath the covers. you noticed how dark it was, all the lights in the room turned off except for the bright light of the tv screen, walter white’s voice muffled from its low volume. alex spotted your figure in a split second, and motioned you over by lifting the blanket.
you followed suit, crawling in next to him as he tucked you in, pulling you as close as he could by your waist. your head found home against his chest, your hand slung over his stomach reached to grip his own. he latched onto it, caressing the valleys of your knuckles.
you felt him place another peck to your hairline, muttering “i love you so much, you know that?”
you smiled, the crack once present in your chest slowly healing minute by minute with his reassurance. you glanced up, falling into his chocolate-colored hues with your (e/c) ones. “i love you just as much, you know that?”
alex grinned, cheeks flushing with the faintest dust of pink before he leaned down, pressing your lips to his for a quick kiss. he pulled away just as fast and snuggled into you, nuzzling into your newfound body heat that was now returned to normal, all while you cuddled under the sound of distant, dying thunder clouds.
taglist: @esylwen @basilly @libbynotfound @inniterhq @voidgonemissing
are you dreaming?
𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬- 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐮𝐭, 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐲.
While laying on you're stomach; reading a book, Romeo and Juliet per-say. Faint music playing in the background. Knocks or the sound of thudding is heard outside your window resigning your attention from the fiction, sitting up heading to see what was outside the window.
Thinking a second before grabbing the wood baseball bat, just in-case. You never know what would happen anymore in this town since previous fiascos.
Cautiously heading towards the window, removing the curtains; pulling up the blinds. As soon saw you're eyes saw the grass another pebble or rock hit the window, making u jump and yelp. Loud laughing is heard from you're yard. Realizing the laugh as you're girlfriends laugh, feeling reassured it wasn't a psycho killer; again.
"What the hell Denna! You almost gave me a heart attack." quietly speaking. Not wanting to wake up you're siblings and your parents; if you didn't already.
"Sorry, sorry. Josh went out with his nerd friends and you weren't answering my text." she says taking a pause before continuing "so here I am." while climbing up to your bedroom.
Waltzing over to where you sat on the end of you're bed, placing a hand on you're slightly pink cheek. Pressing her lips on yours, climbing on top of you; straddling your waist. Things getting intimate. Knocking on the door makes u both jump away.
" Y/n, please turn that music off." you hear you're mom plead from the outside of your door. Chuckling slightly before muttering a quite 'sorry' while turning the music off. After hearing the mom walk off you both continue what you were doing before you both were interrupted.