𝐓𝐔𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐋 𝐕𝐈𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍 ˞ dreamwastaken

✎ 𝗌𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗇

hi hi hi hi hi hheehaw

ⰔⱄⰔ

"so...dream smp? pog?"

the four words kept bouncing around in elle's head even a day after the event, ricocheting off the walls of her brain and getting louder each time. the entire fan base suddenly knew her name because of tommy and tubbo's stream, and they began tweeting at dream, begging for her acceptance into the smp. little did they know, things were already in the works.

when elle and dream were left alone in the call and began talking, he offered to add her—at first she was hesitant because she didn't know anybody, and she had also just met dream, but he insisted. "we can't back down now," he said. "everyone can see our comments on twitter and stuff. and that ass grilled cheese you made me, too." she laughed, shaking her head, but agreed and thanked him heartily.

the two continued to chat for another hour surprisingly. they found, once again, that it wasn't difficult to banter back and forth; everything flowed perfectly, and when one said something random, the other could easily bounce back on it and play it off.

"would you consider," dream asked at one point, "in your next animation, making george, like, super tiny? because he's short. like you."

"oh my god, dream, what is wrong with you? is this how you talk to all the girls you meet?"

the man wheezed. "no, just short people," he said. elle angrily tried to interrupt, but he continued. "i'm just saying. fleur—fleur, i'll literally pay you."

"...how much are we talking here?"

"i don't know...twenty bucks?"

"twenty bucks?"

"what? too little? too much? i don't know, you tell me your price."

"sir, you literally insulted me in your request. you're gonna have to pay the big bucks if you want anything from me. i'm poor."

"damn, okay. a hundred?"

"a hundred?" she cheekily decided on simply emphasizing in a dramatic voice whatever he said but not elaborating so he couldn't figure out what she meant by it. she didn't actually want any money.

"I DON'T KNOW WHAT YOU WANT, WOMAN."

"i want to stop being made fun of for my height, you smelly bastard."

"ouch. am i really that stinky?"

"yes! so stinky! so bad! stinky bad man!"

"my feelings are so hurt. i can't believe this tiny woman called me a stinky bad man. what ever will i do?"

"you're so mean. am i going to have to start calling you clay?"

"god, please no."

"well then, clay, i might as well."

"stop!"

"as soon as you stop making fun of my height, you tree."

"you know i can't do that."

"oh well, then...clay."

"dammit...at least promise not to while on streams or videos."

elle's silence provoked him to groan. she said then, "i can promise you nothing, green boy."

"fine, five-feet-one-inch girl."

the two fizzled into small giggles, their conversation switching topics to the smp once again. elle decided to check twitter, and was shocked to see herself tagged in many, many posts.