#and of course phil letting more of himself out as well

[ahappydnp]

Your tags about how this wasn’t a “for the camera” performance when I saw Dan’s little wiggles towards Phil that was my immediate thought like we’ve come so far with them and their trust in letting us see their dynamic 😭

the shift has been so subtle but when you notice it it's almost overwhelming. they really meant dangerously low amount of fucks but not in a performative way. it's the way they don't have those moments anymore where they're about to do something and then freeze when they look at the camera or try and stick to Their Personal Branding characteristics in videos. they're just free in a way we've never seen ;___;

[nerdysleepybunny]

Hallo! im new here so please let me know if i cross any boundries.'

anywho, I was wondering if i could request a platonic philza and/or techno comfort? ive had bad few days :(

Have a wonderful day/night!

I APOLOGIZE FOR GETTING TO THIS SO LATE!! I literally love dsmp asks even though the fandom is dying off, so this definitely isn’t crossing any boundaries! I hope you’re doing better. My dms are open if you ever need to chat! :D

🩷☁️N E R D Y S L E E P Y B U N N Y☁️🩷

Fandom(s): DreamSMP

Character(s): Philza, Technoblade (ft. Mumza & Chat)

Reader: Gender neutral (you/your)

Style: Hcs

TW: N/A

Summary: How Philza and Technoblade (separate) would comfort you!

🩷☁️N E R D Y S L E E P Y B U N N Y☁️🩷

Philza:

I feel like he’s the type to just know you aren’t doing well before you even say anything.

Like, you’re just sitting there in your feels, then suddenly?

BOOM CONCERNED DAD RIGHT IN YOUR FACE

“Are you okay, mate?”

“Do you need anything?”

“Here, let’s sit and have a chat.”

Literally shooing chat away so it’s just the two of you having quality time together.

Would sit down next to you on a couch, but probably wouldn’t initiate any touching. The most I see him doing is a shoulder pat or a hand rubbing your back.

Of course, he wouldn’t mind you leaning on him or embracing him! He just doesn’t want to touch you in case you want your space :)

If you want to talk about it he’s there to listen and offer wise old man advice (if you call him old while you’re upset, it’s the ONE time he won’t get defensive about it)

Like

He’s just talking giving you some advice about your problems, then he hears you snickering

“What’s so funny?”

“You sound so old right now, Phil.”

Usually he’d shout his usual “I’M NOT OLD/I’m only in my 30’s, mate…” (I’m pretty sure he’s canonically thousands of years old but shh let grandpa be delusional)

But now? He’d just chuckle and shake his head

“Whatever you say, mate.”

DON’T EXPECT HIM TO BE SOFT FOREVER, IT’S ONLY BECAUSE YOU’RE CURRENTLY SAD

After you’ve concluded your venting/told him that you don’t want to talk about it

You know what time it is…

DISTRACTIONS!!!

Pillow fort anyone? He’s giving pillow fort vibes.

He’s a dad, so obviously he’d just do all the work and build it for you. Again, only because you’re sad. Any other time he’d yell at you for not helping.

Speaking of sadness

Don’t let Phil’s wife see you sad…

OH NO YOU’RE SAD? NOW MUMZA IS SAD AND IS RUSHING TO COMFORT YOU

Mumza is the type to cry when she sees someone else crying, so now both of you are just sobbing together and Phil is there trying to comfort the two of you but is an overwhelmed old man and may end up crying himself

Uh… cry party?

Either you all end up making fun of each other for crying which results in you all laughing together, or you just cry till you get sleepy and pass out on the floor together.

What an interesting way to family bond.

Technoblade:

So you seek The Blade for comfort, the most monochrome and nonchalant man on the server. What a wonderful decision, reader! /lh (I’d do the exact same)

If you’re a Technoblade fan you’ve definitely heard the “it’s fine” audio.

Now I can either be wholesome and say he’d hold you close and whisper that everything will be okay to you

Or I can be silly and realistic and say that he’d pull out a phone and just play the audio with a blank face, but is laughing on the inside due to your “what the actual fuck” face.

Okay now for some actual comfort!

As we all know… Technoblade isn’t exactly good at comfort.

He kills orphans for a living, how do you think he’d react seeing someone crying like a child?

He’s standing looking at you with a look of “why is this creature screaming” and “wtf do I do”

“Uh… you good? You okay? You, uh… need a hug…?”

Very awkwardly holds his arms out for a hug, and if you accept, he even more awkwardly pats your back.

If you got his shirt wet with tears, he’d DEFINITELY comment about it

“Are you seriously ruining my shirt? How are my enemies supposed to think I have a good fashion sense now?!”

Goes into a rant about how he needs to look his best and how it’s a good strategy to beat his enemies in battle while you’re kinda just there… honestly are you even crying anymore?

You’ve stopped crying ages ago, and he’s still just talking

In conclusion, Technoblade is good at calming people down without even trying (I was literally having a breakdown and all I needed to do was listen to the silly pig man talk about Greek mythology. It must all be part of his master plan���)

Speaking of listening to his voice, here’s a scenario.

“Technoblade, can you read to me?”

“…what?”

“Read to me.”

“I’m not reading you a bedtime stor-“

“I wanted you to tell me about Greek mythology.”

“Fine. Come here.”

Long story short, he starts by reading you just one story. That one story turns into the entire history of the Greek gods and goddesses… yeah you pass out pretty quickly. But Technoblade isn’t one to stop mid-ramble. Once he notices you’re asleep, he’ll continue talking, just quieter. He’ll eventually get sleepy himself, and soon enough… you’re both asleep.

Works like a charm!

🩷☁️N E R D Y S L E E P Y B U N N Y☁️🩷

[mathanlin]

Hero AU where school counselor!Phil has to deal with… interesting students.

Namely, the three boys he sees constantly bickering in the hallways.

And slamming cars into each other on the news.

Ridiculously, none of them know who the others are.

But Phil notices the *moment* new young vigilantes start popping up. The trio’s dropping grades, spotty attendance, and injuries only confirm it.

Or, y’know. Tommy mumbling, “What would you do if you were a hero?”

Phil helps in the least obvious ways he can.

Modifying their grades to be a bit less suspicious, leaving out ice packs by his office door (easy to steal), writing late passes without a bit of resistance.

But he can only be so subtle.

“So, Red.”

Tommy’s head jerks up. 

Phil almost laughs. “You’ve heard of him, huh? I figure he’s your favorite.”

Tommy shifts awkwardly in his chair — readjusting the wound Phil knows lies beneath his sweater. “Better than the fuckin’ Blade.”

Techno. Honors student. Flawless GPA. Volunteer. And vigilante.

Far closer to a villain.

“If only I could give the Blade a lecture,” Phil says, unable to stop a chuckle, and barely managing to not say, *You two have to stop beating the shit out of each other.*

Eventually, Phil gives up on subtlety & calls them all down to his office.

“So. I heard you’ve been getting into fights.”

Wilbur, drama kid — or Siren, smooth-tongued — is the first to act, eyes widening. “I’m sorry, sir?”

Then Techno. “Mr. Watson, I would *never.*”

“Then what’s that?”

Phil nods to the bruise beneath Techno’s turtleneck — from a hit Siren landed. Then, to Wilbur’s knuckles, ever so slightly battered.

And neither seem to notice a thing. 

Phil pinches his brow, sighing.

“Alright. Then Tommy. Care to explain the state of your shoes?” (Burnt, melted from running through rubble the Blade had created.)

*There* it is. Techno frowns, leaning back to peek — and Tommy quickly tucks his feet beneath the chair.

“Nothing.”

“Where were you all last night?”

Every single kid tenses. 

And starts rambling out excuses.

“I was— studying, of course—”

“Well, *I* was trying to get ice cream, and that bitch the Blade showed up—”

“Bitch?” Techno cries before catching himself. “I think you mean *Red* and *Siren*—”

“What the fuck?” Wilbur splutters. “Siren was trying to calm those two fuckers down—”

“Boys,” Phil says. “Look. All three of those heroes would be better *together,* right? Not fighting, not hurting each other?”

“Maybe,” Tommy finally mumbles, toeing at the floor, “but… why are we talking about heroes?”

Phil tips back in his chair, face in hands.

“Come on. Someone figure it out.”

Silence. 

Phil groans. “Wilbur, you quit band two months ago. Techno, Tommy, who showed up two months ago?”

More silence.

“Uhh… I don’t know.”

“Techno,” Phil says, almost desperate. “You tutor Tommy, right? What happens after he disappears from your lessons?”

“I… go home,” Techno lies. 

Phil lets out an exasperated sigh. “No, you go where *he* goes. And where’s that?”

Tommy’s eyes start to narrow.

“You like Greek shit. Like… the Blade,” he says quietly, staring at Techno. Then, at Wilbur. “And *you’re* a pretentious bastard. Like *Siren.*”

Phil raises an eyebrow, fighting a smile.

“And you’re a little shit,” Wilbur snaps, then— pales. “Like… Red?”

“*There* we go,” Phil says, letting out a sigh of relief. “Now, I have a plan. If you three work together, I truly believe that—”

It’s a shame Phil’s office is so tiny.

There’s no room for three vigilantes to sufficiently beat the shit out of each other.

.

.

.

Just the idea of the three of them curled up at Phil’s, working on homework before heading off to fight crime (together, for once). 

Phil being their “man in the chair” (even if he directs them to safer areas, too worried for anything more).

And of course, the best (worst?) part of being a school counselor — the actual *counseling.*

Except it’s not about what classes to take, or bullies to avoid.

It’s holding Wilbur as he sobs after killing his first villain to protect his brothers. (Because that’s what they are, now). 

It’s comforting Techno as he fails his first class, too busy with heroics to focus or study. 

It’s reassuring Tommy when his brothers get hurt, always ready to defend their youngest.

And it’s crying like a father when they graduate.

It’s *loving* them like a father, his home always open to them, filled with medical supplies and bedrooms for each kid, newpaper clippings pinned proudly on the fridge.

There’s a reason the city’s strongest trio of vigilantes always protect one specific man.

[missycolorful]

Something really stood out to me during q!Philza's conversation with his eggs when they confronted him about being left behind at Etoiles' house. Because I realized a bit too late what the topic at hand was, and it made me realize why q!Phil was defensive and overexplaining his perspective in a situation where he made a mistake.

Because it's really all about what the situation was: Philza accidentally leaving them behind at Etoiles house. His kids, especially Tallulah, like to joke about being abandoned just for the sake of being dramatic. It's all jokes, yes! But they say as much here, and this time, it's a legitimate statement. He abandoned them, though accidentally. And they took that seriously. And abandon is kind of a scary word here. especially with Tallulah.

Philza knows she doesn't deal with the idea of abandonment well. She doesn't like being left behind, it makes her feel unloved. He doesn't want to do that to her. So when he did something stupid, he tries so hard to let them know that he didn't mean to, that he misunderstood and made a mistake. That he'd never abandon his kids, abandon Tallulah. He's a bit defensive because what they were saying, to him, sounded like they thought what he did was intentional, and that their hurt came from him doing it on purpose. So he overexplains himself so they understand that he wouldn't do that to them.

Of course, the problem is, he did, and even if it's accidental, it's still something that upset them and scared them. And incidental or otherwise, their feelings about the situation are still valid. Sure, nothing really wrong with explaining your perspective on the situation to clear the air, and it's easy to see why Philza would do that especially here. But yeah, q!Phil, you just had a birdbrain moment, you just gotta apologize and be more careful next time, that's all, man! Which, he did several times throughout the interaction, and to me, it seemed like afterward, he was being extra careful to keep an eye on them. So he's taking what came out of this situation fairly seriously!

But what I think is important to remember is that the Death family is so tightly-knit. They're all so important to each other, they rely on each other and they hold no secrets between one another. He never wants his children to think he'd leave them behind for any reason. It's just that he's a birdbrain sometimes, the dumbass <3

EDIT: hello, yes, yes, I talked a bit more about this scene and the implications of what was being discussed here! I even mention why this particular worry has manifested in Tallulah and Chayanne in particular as of recent!

[pseudophan]

some post wad weekend thoughts...

i just wrote all this on the plane and haven't read it through so apologies for any mistakes

first of all, this weekend was incredible. i usually just kinda sit at home doing not much of anything, and this was a much needed break to actually have some fun. london in general always lifts my spirits but i suppose that danisnotonfire guy contributed a little as well.

guys i think i've met more people the past few days than i otherwise have in years. like. holy shit. i started listing people but i'm petrified i'll forget someone so i chickened out, sorry about that. but you all know who you are. i've met friends i've had for years, people i used to know but haven't spoken to in what feels like a decade, newer friends, and a frankly baffling amount of people i didn't know yet but who told me they've followed me for ages. like holy fuck you guys lmao what the hell??? and i mean did the reaction ever get old no of course it didn't. bad for my ego i'm sure but totally worth it. there's something very amusing and incredibly surreal about being chronically lame in most aspects of life and then suddenly finding yourself in an environment where you're kinda cool???? SO fucking fun oh my god, but also i do kinda feel like i've tricked you all? but hey i'll happily let you keep believing i'm cool, that is more than fine with me.

most importantly though everyone was SO lovely. like i said i don't think i've spoken to this many people in such a short amount of time in years and every single person i talked to was awesome. guys did you know phannies are kind of great... don't tell anyone but, lowkey... everyone is so funny and cool and absolutely insane but in a good way (shoutout everyone left at the gates until the very end, we should probably get some help).

and then lastly of course, mr howell himself. i talk about this a lot i feel like but fuck me that man was born to perform. whether you think he's actually funny or not, nobody can argue he doesn't absolutely thrive on a stage. he plays off the audience so well and he's so very obviously having the time of his fucking life. i'd already seen the show twice before this, and i didn't think anything would top the previous london show but man... the first night he came back out after the show having clearly been tearing up backstage, apologising for being an inconsistent absent parent, and i can't lie the "i had daddy issues and THEN i subscribed to dan howell" got me cause yeah no literally dude, you nailed it, exactly, well done. i think something about doing this show again, his magnum opus as he considers it, now after the dapg return was very special to him. he seems genuinely surprised that so many of us were ready to just jump back in like nothing happened, i don't think he was expecting so many people to still be waiting and it's... man. he comes off so grateful for us all and it's so fucking sweet. and then on the last night, i think that was my favourite, when the show ended and he got the standing ovation and people throwing him flowers.. he was so HAPPY. and clearly overwhelmed with emotion which, i gotta say, there is something honestly kinda funny about daniel howell standing in front of you trying not to cry. like no by all means dude go ahead, please, you've made me cry an endless amount of times it's only fair.

ugh. i'm proud of him or whatever. dick. and i'm proud of our ridiculous fucking community. i'm not sure what 14 year old nora would say if you'd told me i'd still be kicking it in the phandom a decade on, but at almost 25 (fml) i'm so so happy to be here still. you know, we get a bad rep, but i genuinely think as far as fanbases go we're pretty solid. and i love you all so much.

i believe i will have to rob a bank or something because the next time dan and/or phil do a tour i think i'll have to just show up at every date like i'm sorry but this was too good of a high we need to do it again immediately

anyway. back to work 💪

(by which i mean giffing dan and phil. i am still very much unemployed. fr though i'm two whole videos behind this has never happened i feel weird. who am i)

[obv10usly]

When dan said “It's so lucky to find someone you can be THAT compatible with,” I think about this picture:

Well maybe not this exact picture but this particular cross-hand autograph signing thing they do at every joint meet n’ greet.

Of course their compatibility goes way beyond this. It’s what Dan himself described, “two people - if you just get on with someone really well, someone you can spend time with... is that a soulmate?”

I would agree.. but let’s just talk about the hand thing.

I’m sure it started coincidentally. It began when they decided Dan and Phil sounds better than Phil and Dan. From that, it’s the unwritten rule of TV that dictates Dan should always stand on the right side of Phil. It’s so that audience could naturally see from left to right, Dan and Phil, just like how they’re called. I think they talked about this in one interview, citing Ant and Dec as an example.

And it just so happened that Dan is a lefty. When they signed things at the same time, it became natural for them to cross their hands to sign, so that their autographs read Dan and then Phil from left to right as well.

I said “natural for them” because it’s actually quite ridiculous when you really think about it. They can just do it one by one just as easily and only a few seconds slower (if even that.)

But yeah, natural for them might not make sense to anyone else, like when they decided rubbing cat whiskers out of the other’s face simultaneously backstage in tatinof is easier than having a stage hand do it for them, which still baffles me to this day.

The most important thing though, is it works for them. It has always worked for them. It still works for them like many of the life manoeuvres they probably set for themselves but we’re not privy to.

It’s just them, perfectly slotted into each other’s life in more ways than one.

[anarchy-and-piglins]

Technoblade told himself he would explain the misunderstanding eventually, he just hadn't gotten around to it yet.

In his defense, he never was the best at confrontation. Swords and shields were easy, they were understandable to a man like Techno. Telling four overly-eager Gods that he was not a gift for them - now that was harder.

Especially since he had been sent by his king with the express command to appease these gods. The entire point of Techno being there was for him to earn divine goodwill. Sure, Techno was supposed to do that by delivering the special items the court had provided as offerings, but somewhere wires had gotten crossed and now they thought he was the mortal's gift to them. And Techno didn't think correcting them on that notion would go over well.

"Aw, isn't that adorable? Humans are so precious when they encounter something unknown." Lady Death clasped her hands together, fawning over him like he'd seen the noblewomen fawn over newborn kittens. It was a bit humbling really.

"Will this kill me if I touch it?" Techno asked wearily.

"Only if we want it to," Phil said - then refused to elaborate. Great.

Well, if they'd wanted to kill Techno he would have been dead already. He dipped his hand into the river, watching as the molten ichor flowed around it. It wasn't as cold as he expected, though not warm either. Just... room-temperature liquid gold against his skin.

"Huh..." he said as he pulled it out and contemplated his completely dry hand. He dipped it back in but cupped his palm instead, so he was able to lift up some of the strange not-water.

"Gold suits you," Kristin hummed as she watched him do this. She tilted her head with a smile, eyes traveling over him carefully. "Better than those rags for sure. We'll have to dress you up nicer, no offense. You look a little hm, unkempt." There was a laugh in her voice.

Techno had not gotten used to the way it echoed yet. As if every word she spoke held power in this realm. "This is the standard military uniform from my nation."

"And clearly it's a nation that lacks good taste," Phil pointed out.

Kristin reached out to pull on his arm. "Oh, hush dear. They had good enough taste to deliver him, didn't they?" She nodded at Techno. "However, it's true that something of ours should not walk around looking so untidy. We'll have to fix that." She snapped her fingers. Techno felt a weird shudder down his spine in response to a divine being extending their powers so close to him, though he couldn't see anything that had changed.

"Some options will be waiting in your room," Kristin said.

"My room?" Techno echoed dumbly.

"Of course! Wilbur and Tommy are off preparing it for you, it'll be delightful, I'm sure."

He had a room. They made him a room.

Oh, Techno was not going to get out of there anytime soon, was he?

"Now, our gift." Kristin gestured to the rest of the garden. "There's much more of the palace to see, we're not nearly done showing you around yet. And I don't think we can keep Tommy and Wilbur at bay for long, they're beyond excited to spend time with you too. So let's get going."

And if there was one thing Techno knew for certain, it was that misfortune would surely fall on those who refused a divine invitation. So he nodded and followed them.

[youphoriaot7]

just saw a heart-wrenching edit on tiktok (sad music and all) about q!cellbit and the way he interacts with the eggs and i just...

i remember when i was still getting into the qsmp (which i did from cellbit's pov) and was scrolling the wiki on the daily, trying to figure out past lore and relationships and everything

and every single time i clicked on an egg's page i would end up seeing cellbit's face somewhere in the relationship box. and it always made me grin so wide because it was just...cute. and then i realized a lot of them had even mentioned things like him being one of their favorite tios or whatever and i'm just so. fucking. soft. about the idea of just-

this guy. comes to this island. in the middle of nowhere—doesn't really know how he ended up there, doesn't remember much about where he came from, nothing. and, like, it's natural to be a bit skittish or at least defensive, especially when there's already so many people here, because you don't know what they will do to you, how they'll react to anything: they are essentially unknown entities.

and if you really think about it, that completely includes the eggs. because although they're just kids, q!cellbit was canonically in a war at, like, age 15. he's definitely not one to underestimate someone because of their age—he is damn well aware of how scary people can be, regardless of what their age is.

but then they start interacting, and, like—tallulah gives him flowers, and ramon picks him for a partner in the boat race, and he's able to joke and play around with chayanne and bobby, and...in a way, it's like seeing himself, or rather, what he could have been.

because he never got that; he never got to do that. he can see the relationships they have with their parents—tallulah and chayanne with phil, ramon with fit, dapper with bbh, bobby with roier and jaiden—and he sort of comes to realize, like, "these kids don't know." they don't know what it's like to be at war. they don't know what it's like to end up in jail. they don't know what it's like to not be able to live because you're too focused on surviving. whether it's been that way in the past and they don't remember or not, they don't know.

and, inwardly, he decides he's going to make damn fucking sure it stays that way.

so he starts collecting flowers, to give some to tallulah the next time they meet, and the way she beams assures him he'll continue. and when ramon makes a mistake in the boat race and starts beating himself up about it, he empathizes and reassures him. (practically makes the poor kid cry.)

he sees the way chayanne takes the lead around the younger eggs and takes note, making sure to joke around and play with him whenever he can—because he may be the oldest, and the most responsible, but he deserves to have fun, too.

all of this includes richas, of course. in fact, it's even more exaggerated, to the extent that (in some ways similarly to fit) he mostly lets richas do what he wants, only growing concerned or stern if the kid's life is in danger. (because he saw what happened to bobby, and he's not going to let it happen on his watch.)

because there's enough pain in the world. chaos runs rampant on the island, from the federation to the codes, from the kidnappings to the tasks, from the bombs to the capybaras. there is death at every turn, and this island can be deceiving, because it doesn't seem like it. it seems perfectly fine.

but he knows.

he's been in this position before, where everyone and everything is trying to kill him. he's familiar with the concept of survival. and this island is survival.

but these are kids. they don't need that. hell, he had that as a kid, and look how he turned out. no, if he has anything to say about it, nothing will seem out of the ordinary. as much as he can help it. he will gives flowers to tallulah, he will make jokes with chayanne, he will explore with richas, he will spend time with ramon and dapper—all to offer even a semblance of normalcy.

so uh the fluff part of this train of thought is over so click off now if you don't want the hurt <3

but then things start to change. bobby dies, and the federation teases them about it, dangling the child above their heads. the codes ramp up their attacks. the kidnappings start to increase. people die and respawn more frequently. and the more he tries to get free, to get away from the island, the worse things get for the current inhabitants.

he meets pomme. this terrified egg that's been trapped behind a wall since before he even got there. and he realizes that he won't be able to shelter them forever.

things are going to happen, one way or another, to shatter the fragile illusion of reality the islanders are trying to create for these kids. in some way, the curtain is going to fall, and it is going to hurt. it's going to hurt as badly as it hurt him when he was thrown into battle. it's going to hurt as badly as it hurt him when he ended up in a top-security prison when he was barely an adult. it's going to hurt as badly as it hurt him when the wool was yanked away from his own eyes by that white bear not a week after his arrival on the island.

so whatever you do, don't think about what it must've felt like to find that book. don't think about what he must've been thinking as he flipped through those old, yellowed journal pages. don't think about him reading that lost egg's words, and just thinking, "god, this could've been me."

because it very well could've been.

the book literally talks about not wanting to survive, but wanting to live, and all he can think about for the rest of the day is how it was abandoned. same as him—only one was on a battlefield, and one was in this tiny-ass room. and there was no warrior in shining armor, no police officer taking pity to pull this egg out of there. he had someone. this egg had no one.

so of course he switches out the keychain on his backpack. because carrying that egg with him is like carrying a piece of himself, in just the same way that all the eggs feel like a piece of himself.

he can't protect the eggs forever. he knows that. but that doesn't mean he can't try.

[isa-ghost]

you have eggza headcanons perhaps? 👉👈

I will take any headcanons of course, I love your headcanon posts

Previous Sets:

Set 1

Set 2

Set 3

Set 4

Set 5

Set 6

MORE: Eggza Edition

Starting with two I made in previous sets:

When left to his own devices & off-duty as dad + not needed by any of the islanders for something serious, he let's loose. No more wise bad bitch crow man who's palpably emotionally damaged yet won't admit it. He's off the shits. You've seen Eggza. That's him de-stressing by fully indulging his favorite things: preparing necessities for survival & being an absolute wildcard.

When he heard someone on the island made up a rumor that Eggza is legit because Phil taste-tested a cookie out of curiosity, he took that and RAN. Yeah. He's egg sometimes. Who's his parent you ask? Well that's a secret (it's Rose).

Remember how I said he commits to bits super hard? Yeah. Eggza is his second biggest bit after the 4th Wall existentialism but it's quickly surpassing it to his biggest one

Genuinely he enjoys his Eggza time. Everyone knows they'll get nothing but task help out of him more or less, so they more or less leave him alone unless it's to say hi or a chance encounter.

Everyone finds him speaking with signs funny and endearing. Except Tubbo. But that's understandable, dyslexia go brr. Even though the fool sometimes forgets he can tts the signs. It's fine, he's most likely to derail Eggza's cookie grinding so it's better if Tubbo stays away doing Tubbo things

He's torn between the kids witnessing Eggza & never witnessing Eggza. He can't tell what's funnier or if he'd be embarrassed. They've heard stories from other eggs though

He has no interest in making himself Look like an egg. The sign usage is all he needs. And its funnier when you approach your grown ass man best friend Philza Minecraft only for him to look as wild as he did during Purgatory but without the Looks Like He's Dying Slowly part & refuse to talk to you verbally. The "what the fuck is happening here" is the best part of Eggza, if he starts LOOKING like an egg everyone will understand what's going on and that's lame

He bounces off everyone's energy. The more unhinged they are, the more unhinged he is. Unless he's harassing the baker. Then he fuels his own fuckery

The funny thing is he makes sure everyone thinks he's constantly this wild gremlin that only knows one thing: Grind. But really if no one's around while he's grinding, he's actually just straight up vibing. Got headphones in, blasting his jams, doin his work. In his lane, unbothered, flourishing.

I would sell my soul to see Eggza beat the ever-loving shit out of Purgatory workers it'd be so fucking funny holy shit

One of his favorite parts of going Eggza Mode is amusing his friends with the way he's just a nonverbal weirdo. Especially when he answers something they say by just dancing

If He's An Extra Silly Gremlin They'll Give Him Avocado Toast As A Treat

No one knows where he shoos his crows off to when he's Eggza. Or if it's some unspoken "ok time to scatter" rule as soon as he puts the gas mask on by the bakery. But they disperse and for a while, the other islanders can't shake the feeling of Phil seeming strangely bare for some reason. It's bc the murder is away

Tbh I bet even without the Hardcore dreams, he'd sleep a long time with how hard he works as Eggza

"Hard work," I say, as if most of the time Phil isn't just making mobs insatiable amounts of horny so everyone can give the baker what they're asking for (the awareness of this is half of why he's so unhinged as Eggza, it's too absurd & funny to him)

Calling back to another prev non-Eggza hc I made, he has less of a filter when he's not parenting or in peril. He has said some absolutely wild out of pocket shit on signs

If given the right kind of motivation, an islander could probably get Eggza to go feral and kill something or someone. Fit tosses him a stack of whatever arbitrary item Phil might find enticing enough atm & Phil is suddenly on a spree like he was with those bunnies that one time

[dream0fschism]

GIVE US SOME JEALOUS!GRAVES BAYBEEEEE

it's just a little something..

hope u like it <3

It wasn't often that your boyfriend involved you with his associates, so when he'd mentioned going for a few drinks and invited you, of course you were more than happy to tag along.

For the duration of the night something had been off about Phillip, you couldn't help but notice it in the way his eyes burned into the head of every mouth that opened in your direction.

You knew it was the final straw when a joke was directed to you from Johnny, who they'd referred to often as 'Soap'.

"Aye.. I mean sweetheart, if he's willing to share I'd be all in!"

It was absolutely harmless, you knew, but there was an undeniable look slowly creeping its way over your boyfriend's features that told you things would quickly go south if you didn't intervene.

You'd noticed the hand Phillip had on his glass had visibly tightened around the rim, knuckles white and telltale of the internal rage letting loose inside of him.

"Well I think it's time we got going, honestly," you sighed, after throwing a faint smile towards Soap. *I'm tired, Phil." You turned towards your partner, placing a comforting hand onto his shoulder and giving a squeeze. "Can we go?"

It would all come out when you get home, but Phillip would never direct any of his furiousity towards you, never blamed you for the way he thinks and feels about things.

"I don't even fuckin' like him and he knows it. That is exactly why he did what he did."

When you assure him that mulling over such things is pointless, that you're his and only his and any external parties just didn't matter, he'd calm a little. But there was something still sticking to his chest that he had to shake off.

He presses you into the soft sheets of your shared bed whilst he suckles at the flesh of your neck just under your ear, runs his palms under the skirt of your dress and ruffles it up to expose your bottom half.

Between kisses, he mutters. "He knows you're mine and that he can never have you himself. Knows that I'd put him down like the fuckin' dog he is if he tried anything."

Phillip smoothes strands of hair from over your face before he lifts himself to lock your eyes. "You're all for me, baby. You know that, don't you?"

You'd nod wordlessly, reaching down to stroke at his shirt-clad, toned stomach in invitation.

"Oh no, not yet," he'd purr, snatching one side of your face in between his digits. "Words, baby. You know I want a real answer."

"Yes, Phillip," you'd whine, wrapping your legs around his middle to anchor him in closer.

After that, he'd fuck you senseless. It would be rough, but still completely sensual. He'd fuck you from behind, pulling you back by the hair as he did so and stroking a free hand across your stomach as he pumped into you. He loves it because he can growl into your ear, completely and utterly possessive as he reassures you just who you belong to.

[xxavengingangelxx]

Like a Phoenix

Notes: This came from a request for a comfort/love fic @unicorngirly1! <3

It was inspired by this amazing, gorgeous work of art by @shadow0-1. It made me wonder if Phil would worry about his wife leaving him were he to get scarred on a mission.

Anyways, summary!: Graves is burned in an unexpected explosion and is scarred. He worries about his wife leaving him because of it but his wife more than reassures him his scars only make him more attractive to her.

Warnings for: SMUT! MDNI! No other warnings, just hot and heavy sexy times and brief descriptions of burns. Work has been insane and I was suddenly inspired to write this after a dry spell. Not much proofreading, sorry for mistakes! But I had to get it out to my buddies :)

Taglist: @bellgraves, @shepgurl, @sharksausages, @lily-lily131313, @candy616. Want on or off the tags? Let me know :)

-

You were the wife of a mercenary. Weirdly enough, you two had met in a bar. What a story to tell the son you shared, right? You’d always been attracted to soldiers and you had just finished college and you’d been having fun with soldiers coming back from deployment. You’d been hanging out there for a year while you worked a boring office job, that bar really being your only source of enjoyment in your otherwise boring life.

You’d met a couple of soldiers, some of them foreign. The ones coming off deployment were always…rough wasn’t the right word. Passionate was. But holy shit were those nights hot and heavy. There was one you hooked up with a couple of times before meeting Phil. What had been his name? Johnny? Sometimes if he was in a mood he’d have you call him Soap. Scottish men were something else.

And then, funnily enough, on fourth of July weekend, your eyes caught Phil’s. You didn’t know his name back then of course. But you caught him looking at you, his blue eyes catching the low light of the bar and glowing. He nursed a beer, typical Texan, and smirked at you. He was decked out in field gear with a vest that had an American flag, a tag that read B-23, and had wires running through it.

No name tag though. Nameless, handsome stranger.

That nameless, handsome stranger eventually excused himself from a group of men who were dressed similarly. The men had been checking you out, too and sneered at you as well. But the nameless shadow had called dibs apparently because they told him to “go for it.”

“’S your name, darlin’?”

And when he got closer that was when you realized he was tall and broad and built and he had this heat that emanated off him that was almost intimidating. He smelled like cologne, aftershave, gunpowder, and sweat. And the fear of his enemies. He’d killed people earlier that day you were sure.

So why did that make you even more attracted to him?

You stumbled over your name for the first time in your life as he eyed you up and down shamelessly.

A booth opened up near the bar and the man led you towards it before you really knew what was happening. He had to take off his vest, the Velcro ripping loudly in order to fit in the booth. As he sat across from you, you caught more of his intoxicating scent. He was all man.

You wondered what his war-torn body looked like naked and what he would taste like on your tongue. You wondered if he would stretch you when he pushed himself inside you. You pressed your thighs together under the table to ease some of the pressure.

“Caught you lookin’ and I was always raised to never leave a lady wantin,’” he said in that sexy drawl. “Names Phil. Phil Graves.”

You repeated your name, not stuttering over your words this time.

“What’d you want to drink?”

The rest was history. You stopped seeing other men and even though he had a way with the ladies he’d also stopped seeing other women. Before you knew it, he had you moved into his house in the span of a month. He’d made you quit that boring-ass office job, saying you didn’t need to work. He said no wife of him was going to work outside the home. Also, anything you wanted? It was yours.

And in the mean time? You’d fuck him, he’d fuck you, and everything in between. You hated when he went off on deployments but loved it when he got back. He had that scent that he had the first night you met him. So intoxicating.

You got married to him 6 months in. He’d said he just knew you were the one. You weren’t 100% sure but he’d certainly convinced you in the last 3 years. He was the man of your dreams and more.

He was on deployment now and you were expecting him back any day. While he was away, there were always 2 Shadows posted at the house to keep you and the son you shared with him safe.

You’d just had breakfast and had your son on your hip when one of Graves’s men approached you, satellite phone in hand and a solemn look on his face.

Your mind instantly went to the worst place.

“Don’t you dare tell me he’s gone,” you whispered. You had intended for it to come out harsher but you couldn’t. Tears prickled your eyes and your son poked at them curiously as they fell down your cheeks.

“No, thank God, it’s not that,” the Shadow reassured.

“Then what?”

“There was an unexpected explosion and—”

“And, and what?!”

“He was burned,”

“So?”

“He might have permanent scarring,”

You sighed. “I don’t give a shit. I wanna see my husband.”

-

You’d left your son in the care of a "Shadow dad." That particular Shadow was your son’s godfather so you trusted him with your son’s life.

When you stepped into the hospital room, it was warmer than you expected it to be. “Phil?” You called out softly.

No answer. Just the beeping of the machines.

You gently pushed the curtains hanging from the ceiling to the side…

And there he was.

Peacefully asleep. The left side of his face had a white translucent bandage as did his left arm. His left leg seemed to have been spared and if you guessed, his chest had been spared because of his vest.

“Phil,” you sighed, starting to cry. You cuddled up to him in bed on his right side and cried softly while you listened to him breathe.

-

The next year had been trying. Phil, the great Shadow Commander had been unable to join his soldiers in the field. He hated sending them out with him going. His men were like sons to him and losing any of them would have him sniffling while trying to hide the fact that he was crying.

Graves had healed. Skin grafts had taken and you and your husband had both come to terms with the fact that he was always going to look different.

His Shadows started calling him Phoenix because he had literally risen from the ashes of an explosion and lived.

And then suddenly, out of the blue it seemed, Phil started getting nervous about you leaving him, about his son being scared of him.

“That’s silly. Your son loves you.” You brought the now-sizeable four-year-old into the room, having picked him up out of his playpen and brought him to set next to his dad on the couch.

Father and son made eye contact, with Phil looking at his tiny (compared to adult Graves) son sitting next to him on the couch and his son looking at his hulking figure of a dad. The boy’s green-ish blue eyes met his father’s blue eyes.

The pause lasted forever and you started working up a line in your head that even if the tiny tot expressed fear, that it was nothing to worry about.

And finally, the toddler smiled and crawled into his father’s lap, running tiny hands over the left side of Phil’s face and his left arm. “You squiggwy, Daddy. Color inside the lines.”

And tears pricked your eyes as well as Phil’s when you all laughed.

-

“You should find someone better looking,” Phil said to you later than night when you came in from having put your son to bed.

“Phil, that’s ridiculous. I love you.”

You crawled in to bed with him and snuggled up to him. You then climbed on top of him. He had been lying down on his back and you straddled him.

“Phil, all this does,” you ran a gentle hand down the scars on the left side of his face and his left arm. “Is make you look hotter. You beat death. You’re a badass.”

“Can I tell you…ask you something?” Phil whispered, resting his hands on your hips.

“As long as it doesn’t involve anything about me leaving you,”

A kind smile touched his face.

“Can we have another?”

“Another—”

“Another one.”

Oh. Oh.

“You want another kid?” You asked.

“I really do,” Phil answered.

“How do we make babies again?” you teased, grinding your hips on his growing erection.

Phil easily tossed you off of him onto the side of the bed. Hard enough that you had to catch yourself so you didn’t fall off the bed.

“Shit, my bad,” he chuckled. “Ya’lright?” he asked, helping ease you under him, legs wrapped around his hips.

“More than alright,” you purred.

Phil had recently been able to be more active as his skin healed and he easily pulled your nightgown up and off you.

“No panties?” he smirked, eyeing you lustfully.

“Easy access,” you said coyly.

“Naughty girl,” he growled. He pushed his sweats and boxers below his cock, now hard and red and ready.

“Only for you,” you moaned arching up, feeling the hot tip of his cock kiss your entrance before Phil placed a hand over your belly button and tsked disapprovingly.

“So needy,” Phil gasped when he felt your own wet entrance touch him.

“Gotta get you ready, yeah?” Phil rumbled.

“M’ ready, m’ ready,” you pleaded, trying to arch up to his hot dick, now oozing precum.

“Could be more ready,”

And you gasped when you felt his lips on your entrance. His stubble on the right side of his face still scratched your inner thigh and you had to stop yourself from yelping at the sudden sharp sensation.

And he licked you from your vagina to your clit, making you quiver. You hands went to his hair, holding him in place. His hair had grown out slightly longer and it just made it all the easier to grasp it.

And when he sucked on your clit, and pressed his tongue against it, you moaned his name.

He withdrew suddenly, making you whimper at the loss.

“Phil,” you protested.

“I wanna be inside you when you cum,” he said darkly.

And so he pushed inside of you, slowly, so slowly that your breath caught in your throat when you tried to tell him to go faster. He suddenly bottomed out inside of you quickly, slamming home in a way that made you cry out.

“Don’t wanna wake ‘im, hush,” Phil whispered, his hot lips brushing your ear. “Don’t make me put something in there to make you be quiet.”

You moaned, softer this time.

Phil moved, pulling all the way out before again starting slowly and then pushing back in to hit your cervix.

You brought your hands up to his shoulders. You scratched his right shoulder with your nails. But not his left one. That one had just been kissed by the flames but the fire had spent enough time on that skin to scar him.

Phil groaned, grinding his hips against your clit as he hit your cervix and that gummy spot inside you. His hot lips now sucked a hickey on your neck before moving to your breasts. And that combination of sensations: his hips grinding against you, stimulating your clit, his long, thick cock hitting your cervix as his thrusts became harder, fast, and his sucking your breasts was when you surrendered to him and came.

He was quick to put his left hand over your mouth to cover any cries that might have left your mouth otherwise.

“Fuuuuck,” Phil gasped. He thrusted faster, his hips losing their rhythm as he got closer to his own high. He removed his hand from your mouth and instead used his hands to pin your wrists down on either side of your head as he chased his own climax, finally cumming inside you, filling you with hot, thick ropes of cum, right into your fertile womb.

Phil stayed inside you as you continued clenching around him, hearing him hiss as he was now overly sensitive.

“Never leave,” Phil whispered.

“Never will,” you promised.

[lookinghalfacorpse]

i think i remember your pandora symptoms fic was in general, canon compliant to ITWALL and tbh i have been curious, has phil ever been "sucked in" into one of dreams nightmares like techno was?? (if the "dreamon chapter is even canon to itwall of course lol)

i forgot about this headcanon! i imagined it as a part of his admin powers that he hasn't mastered yet-- a way to communicate quickly with the players on his server. i think philza would recognize it.

----------

/dsmp /rp

Dream dropped himself into the kitchen chair, letting it creak loudly under his weight. Phil didn't even know he was awake already.

The arctic had settled into a slow, soft routine; Philza was usually first to wake, and he'd start breakfast as Dream and Technoblade joined him at their own pace. This morning, he had deep pockets of purple under his eyes and he seemed unable to hold himself up. His head drifted into his hands as he sat at the time. His hair was a mess.

Philza chuckled at him. The old man hadn't slept too well, either, but he was chipper as always as he tried to make food quickly. He put a kettle on the stove to get Dream's tea started. "Mornin', mate," he said, "I guess Techno really wore you out yesterday, yeah?"

"Mm."

"I'm surprised you didn't sleep in more."

"Couldn't sleep," Dream said as he rubbed a hand groggily across his face. "I'm so sore. I don't wanna look at firewood ever again."

"Ah, nothing a warm bath and some pain meds can't fix. You must've pushed yourself too hard."

Phil continued with breakfast. He opted for bagels that morning-- it was quick and easy, and made up for lost time since he was moving slowly. He also had apples on the stove for some homemade applesauce, and it made the whole cabin smell absolutely lovely. He mixed them occasionally, checked on the bagels, and peaked over his shoulder at Dream. The poor boy was nearly falling asleep again.

He jumped when the kettle started to whistle. Phil prepared an English Breakfast tea for him in his favorite mug, with milk and sugar.

"Thanks," Dream croaked, his thin fingers wrapping around the mug, cradling it delicately in both hands. Phil watched as he raised it to his face, sniffed at the air, and moved his hair aside so he could blow cool air on the surface.

"You didn't tell me that Sam poisoned you," Philza said.

Dream froze, green eyes darting to Phil's face.

"How did you know that?"

Phil turned his attention back to the apples, turning his back. "I had an odd dream last night."

Dream put the mug down, his back straightening. "Tell me what you saw."

"A part of the prison I didn't recognize, with chairs. I saw scraps of food on a table-- all potatoes, I think, but maybe not-- and I heard Sam asking questions. About Tommy. But I-- you-- felt so sick, the room was spinning. Could barely understand the questions at all. Dream, I asked you if Quackity did all of the damage, and you said yes." "And I didn't lie. Sam didn't-- Sam didn't hurt me. Not really. None of these scars are from him." Before Philza could voice a protest, Dream continued, "Listen, I-- I'm sorry. I don't know why I keep doing this. I did it to Techno, too, I-- sometimes I can control dreams on purpose, but more often I just... force people to witness random things that I don't even want them to see. I'm really sorry, Phil. I'll try to stop."

"No, no," Phil started, "I think this explains a lot. I've seen something like this before." "You have?"

"Mm-hmm. You projected a memory to me. If you can harness this, I think you'd be able to communicate to people even when they're awake. Sounds convenient, yeah?"

A way to communicate privately. Dream liked the idea.

Phil continued, "I'm angry about what I saw, don't get me wrong. Pissed off, really. But I'm glad to have discovered this. We can work on it."

Dream ran his fingertips along the handle of the mug. The glaze was smooth and cold, and it fit inside his palms neatly. He saw Phil watching him, waiting to find out if he would drink.

He drank.

[skele-bunny]

I don't mind not being on anon :) can you tell me more about Calida, specifically while Dew is still carrying? How did the pack at the time handle that? Could we also get Ifrit reacting to Dew telling him he's expecting? Thank you!

Thank you! For sure I can give you that :D

(CW - Lightly implied abuse and pregnancy from sa, but this is a fluff post!) Aether/Dew/Mountain ftw

Super long post!

Oh boy, oh boy... When Dewdrop found out a few weeks before the start of tour let alone just how far along he was? A fucking MESS!!! He had been nesting so much lately, more emotional and hungry, cramping n puking all the time, and just so damn tired when he finally caved in to go see Phil. Dew has always been tiny, neglecting his health and never eating. Honestly, when he started gaining weight, he thought it was because of Mountain's cooking! He doesn't show whatsoever besides a singular bump that makes him look bloated constantly. He's just rubbing over his bump with nothing but fear. How is he going to tell Papa? The pack? Ifrit?

It's so unusual for Dew to go into Ifrit's room on his own accord, gently knocking and looking at his packmate so nervously. Sitting down next to him and just unsure what to say, before just out right-

"I'm pregnant."

Which is instantly met back, "How do you know it's mine?"

"You're the only one that's touched me in the past six months..."

Ifrit just shrugs. "So what are we gonna do about it?"

And it's right there that something inside Dew just snaps into place. He's thanking his unholiness it's just one and not an entire clutch that many water ghouls get, just nodding and whispering. "I'll handle it." And that's good enough for Ifrit. So Dew excuses himself, and goes to Aether who's of course with Mountain and Zephyr. "I'm pregnant, I'm not changing my mind, and you're all dealing with it."

They just frog blink before Zephyr is the first one to start clapping, squealing. "Yes! I knew it! I told you he smelled different!"

Dew didn't even realize his hands were clenched, but seeing their happy faces and even Mountain coming over to butt horns made him release, exhaling and completely taken off guard by it. He just starts bawling and now they're concerned, bringing him in and cuddling close, shaking his head and just clinging to the nearest one.

They honestly take it really, really well... Dotting over him, cranking their instincts up and starting to get things ready, even scrolling through websites for a baby registry; things they need and what Dew wants. Papa finds out next day, and he's the exact same, just jumping up and down at the fact his ghoul is going to be expecting. Papa Terzo sets things moving since he's already so far along, they gotta rush and-

....Oh fuck. Tour.

Now they're stressing out, and of course Ifrit is no help (unless Papa is around.) That man is pissed off when Terzo tells him he'll be in charge of the majority of Dew's equipment with Mountain. Being on the bus is even worse, but they're positive they'll be back before the baby pops! Settling him up nice and comfy in his bunk, even Zephyr giving Dew his duvet since he'll definitely need it more. He's not moving so much on stage, his Bass rested so comfortably to protect his bump.

It's after a show where they're all high fiving when Dew just gasps, a sudden stream going down his legs and he's just in full panic mode. "My water broke."

Mountain has never moved so fast before, scooping Dew up and running back to the bus - Terzo telling at the stage hands to get everything while they run off. Ifrit stays behind. Lucifer must've felt pity as thank FUCK it was the last show before a three day break as they traveled across the states. But now Dew is in his instincts, none of these ghouls or Papa know what the fuck they're doing, and now he's scared as much as them. He's placed in a nest in the back of the bus and he's just screaming at them to get out, even throwing his shoe at Papa while he tries closing the door.

He's on his own at this part. Naked waist down, nails digging into the leather couch, huffing and trying to soothe himself. There's no urge to push yet, so he's trying to calm down. Dew rubbing his much larger bump, purring and singing at the same time. Even after they're finished packing up, Dew hasn't gone in just yet, and refusing for anyone to come into the lounge besides Zephyr quickly rolling back a bottle of water. Papa hasn't let the bus move an INCH.

It's around 2 in the morning when they wake up to Dew's screaming, now wide awake and grimacing as it sounds like nothing but agony and they can't... Do anything. They hear sobbing, curses in Ghoulish, and a particular rattling scream that's meant for luring prey into the depths that Aether ends up hitting his head on his bunk trying to follow it before sense is literally knocked in... Then quiet besides the high little cries of a kit.

Dew hasn't stopped crying, but reaching down to and holding this bloody little girl that's still attached to him, snuggling against her cheek and starting to groom. He's an absolute mess both mentally and physically, not giving a shit as he's covered in blood and his own mess.

It's later in the afternoon when they can hear little chirps. Specifically calling for them. Mountain peeks in first and Dew is just sitting up, skin-to-skin with this little blob of black. He holds a finger to his lips and ushers them close, and that blob of black quickly becomes a little girl with black hair, identical to Dew's. Zephyr starts bawling like a baby, Aether and Mountain in absolutely shock, Terzo rambling as quietly as possible about how "he can't believe this! A baby kit! I've never seen one before besides pictures Sister had!"

He opens his arms a bit more to show her off, his smile never leaving. "This is Calida..."

Aether tries leaning closer and that's when Dew hisses, bringing her back. He shows his palms and is apologizing, going down to his knees with the others at a comfortable distance. Then, he's back to showing her.

"She's so small..." Zephyr is just trying to wipe their eyes.

"I was only 8 months..."

They're just looking in awe at this tiny being that gets latched to Dew's chest, holding back their purrs as they can see her little tail just curled around Dew's finger.

"She's a fire ghoul!" Aether chirps and it clicks. "Let me get Ifrit-"

"No!!" And they stop, even Terzo goes still. "No, I don't want him back here, don't you dare let him back here."

While their elements are different and one even a human, they know better than to go against a newly parents wishes. Once again, instincts to the max. Ifrit glanced back when the bus started moving and Mountain has never growled so hard since being topside, snapping his jaw and looming up. Ifrit got the hint. Dew quietly asks Mountain to help him get dressed, and is the one to carry Dew in the hotel when they got to their destination, little Calida hidden away and tucked into Dew's jacket. Mountain is just holding them so securely, and in return is given the ability to scent on Calida, his eyes dilated and his tail hidden in his pants can't stop wagging.

Dew feels comfortable enough to be bunked with the earth ghoul, Aether peeking in a while later to drop off food and GOD BELOW... Dew is tearing it up, licking his fingers and moaning as somehow this cheap fast food now tastes like a 5 star Michelin meal. Even Mountain loses his burger with no complaints. After some more heavy nesting and Mountain helping him shower while Terzo watches Calida, he's snuggled in the nest and feels safe enough to sleep with the promise Mountain won't.

In the other room, Aether is just projecting himself in Dew's room to look at both of them, just purring up a storm. Even in the plane, he sends gentle soothing magick into both of them, easing pain from Dew and letting Calida sleep longer so he can, too.

They only get two hours in before Calida wakes up, Dew responding by sitting up to feed her. Dew and Mountain just start talking back and forth and then;

"Do you want to hold her?"

The earth ghoul is just in silence before nodding, letting Dew finish before he carefully is handed Calida. He can tell Dew is nervous by his shaking and smell of distress, so he keeps Calida right in his eye sight, gently poking his nose at her chest and shoulder, licking her cheek. She lets out the smallest coo and wriggles in his hands. She's so, so, so small. Mountain eyes her with nothing but love, whispering about how she's so lucky to have the greatest parent in the world.

"I don't mind mother, really..."

Greatest mother in the world.*

Dew ends up taking her back after a few more minutes, asking for Aether and Mountain is so reluctant but goes without fighting it. They swap places, but Dew is still nervous. Doesn't want Aether anywhere near her, but he trusts him so, so, so much.

"It's nothing against you, I promise, I just-"

"You don't have to explain yourself to me. It's your kit and your decisions."

Dew let's Aether cuddle him on the side, and slowly Dew just falls asleep, Calida still against his chest and not moving in her own sleep. Aether just moved his hand to hover out just in case Calida wiggles, Dew's head on his shoulder so he's absolutely still. His smile is so wide as he admires another thing about Dew he's so in love with.

[robby-bobby-tommy]

You may be a Fitza guy, but I am as well. Phil has my favorite duos and it is t even funny, but maybe biased… anyways, what’s your favorite Fitza quote that’s just gay for no reason? Personal favorite was something along the lines of

“Did I steal anything else from you?” - Fit

“My heart.” - Phil

I’m rambling now so don’t mind me-

I love these two, I watch Phil so just seeing these interactions are the best. He’s such a social guy but secluded himself to hardcore-

I feel like the QSMP showed a much different perspective on the two, how they take lore wise and as friends. They have such a close bond that they act so gay without somehow making it romantic and I love them-

Hii! Thank you for asking, fellow Fitza enjoyer!

Don't get me started. Man, I can go all the way and even give some receipts.

"Philza Mincraft is laying some pipes!" Philza VOD April 10 2023.

"We're so close"/" Don't mention it" I don't remember where it's from honestly.

"Not in front of kids, Fit" I don't remember where it's from, but it was said more than once.

"I got lost in your eyes" Phil to Fit.

"Fit Mc of 2b2t is an amazing lover and a great man, so muscley, so fantastic. Also I guess he is good at cleaning? Yeah."

An here's not so gay, but really friendship goals quotes.

"You and I.. We walk into churches and they burn down just by our presence." 10/4/2023 stream Philza Vod.

"I believe you, Phil" "You're not just saying that?" "Of course not!" 10/30/2023 Philza vod.

"You're too good to me, Phil"

"Fit, let me just add you to this stupid thing [gives access to the basement with Tallulah's farm]." "Oh, yeah, thank you" "It's been too long and you did just not had the access to it." "Thank you, means the world" 12/6/2023 Philza VOD.

"It's okay. We're gonna work through this together. We're gonna figure out what's happening. We got this." Fit about Crow's nightmares [fit is just a free therapy]. 09/25/2023 Philza VOD (this line is so powerful, so here's even a timestamp 3:26:49)

I'm not sure it's what you expected, Anon, but I hope I gave you something to work with:]

[anarchy-and-piglins]

(continuation from this)

Nothing the Unseelie offered ever came without strings attached. 

Every sentence was a trap spun of words, waiting to be sprung on them. So Techno decided to leave the rest of the envoy behind. He told the other guards to make camp while Techno himself would meet with Wilbur's family. One wrong move could see them in big trouble. Techno couldn't leave this task up to anybody else, much as he'd love to skip any sort of social interaction.

But man, did he hate it.

Wilbur's father was a lot like him, all sharp angles and sharper smiles. His eyes had a piercing blue color though their coldness was somewhat undercut by the long, blond hair that framed his face. Techno knew that keeping his distance would be key. That was a little hard when he was sitting on a chair drinking tea with the guy, however.

"More tea?" Phil asked sweetly.

"I would like to discuss what I came here for now," Techno answered. "If it wouldn't be too much trouble, of course."

Seelie laws of politeness would limit his freedom, even when negotiating with Unseelie. It was a pain.

"Are you in a hurry?" Phil inquired.

Techno tried not to scowl. He couldn't lie. It was not something Seelie fae were capable of.

"My delivery is time-sensitive," Techno said.

"How so?"

And while they couldn't lie, they could refuse to answer. Techno took another sip of his tea.

"My son said you require directions to get through our territory. Did whoever tasked your envoy not think of that before you set out? I thought Seelie were supposed to be better strategists than this."

"Like I said, the delivery is time-sensitive," Techno answered with a shrug.

Phil nodded. Techno didn't like the way he glanced down at Techno's cup over and over again. The taste didn't seem off to him. Did he have anything to worry about?

"Well, I don't see why we wouldn't be able to guide you through our lands. It's too treacherous for a stranger to go alone, but I'm sure we could provide." Phil smiled, leaning his arm on the table. "For a price."

"Wow, I'm so incredibly surprised," Techno said.

Much to his horror, Phil's grin stretched wider. "Wilbur was right, you are fascinating."

"What-"

"It's nothing," Phil said quickly. "Or nothing you need to worry about." Techno felt that telltale ache in his head, betraying the deceit of those words. "The price of our guidance is simple. Will you agree?"

"Not before I know what the price is." Techno wasn't a complete idiot.

"You." Phil leaned closer, fingers toying with the strap of Techno's pauldron and deliberately avoiding the gold that would burn him. "Your presence, that is. We guide your men, we'll let you see them off. But you stay with us for a little while."

Techno couldn't help but notice Phil avoided mentioning a specific time frame. With how important his convoy was though, he might not be in a position to refuse.

"Why me?" 

"Have you ever met a Seelie that could lie before?" Phil asked. Techno's brow furrowed in confusion. "Earlier, you said you were surprised when you weren't."

"I was being sarcastic," Techno said.

"Well, have you ever met a Seelie that knew the craft of sarcasm before," Phil joked.

Techno hadn't. It was one of the reasons he was an outcast in his own village. His blunt honesty, the way he couldn't /get along/ with people, his scathing humor.

"The handle of that teacup," Phil said softly, amusement lacing every syllable. "It is made of iron. Shouldn't it burn you?"

Dread was a detached feeling building in Techno's gut. "I'm not Unseelie," he said.

"You're not," Phil agreed. "But you're not Seelie either. How delightfully interesting, hm?"

And Wilbur's statement during their meeting echoed through Techno's brain again. 'We only take what’s interesting to us.'

"So," Phil asked, "do we have a deal?"

[factorialsotherfandoms]

Fit's brain and throat and nose are made of gunk, and he can only praise Hausmaster that Ramon has been preoccupied with something in his room and not wanting to come out the past few days. His beautiful baby boy has his cookies for the week, a good supply of food, and absolutely does not deserve any of this. Not being made of cotton wool, and not being so dizzy getting up is impossible.

He has tried to get up - being sick is not an option, being sick gets you found and killed and killed again - but didn't even make it to the door. In defeat he dragged himself back to bed, burrowed under the duvet, and consoled himself with the fact at least this way he has the element of surprise.

And a sword. Can never underestimate the power of a trusty sword.

He dozes, rather than sleeps, already too vulnerable for his liking but unable to stay fully awake.

His sneezes wake him up. Its gross, and its messy, and he can barely find the energy to grab a tissue and care.

It's as he's trying - failing - to get the gunk out of his nose that he hears footsteps. He freezes for a second, then hides himself back under the covers.

Don't look.

Pretend to be asleep.

Maintain the element of surprise, or die.

He listens, and waits, and after a little bit there's a knock at the door.

"Fit?"

Pac. That's Pac's voice.

Fit isn't sure why he relaxes at that, but he does. He tosses the tissue at the bin, misses, and calls a very stuffy "come in, Pac."

Pac enters shoulder first, using his elbow on the door handle while he carries a tray. There's a bowl, and a spoon, and a glass, and a bottle.

"Phil said you weren't feeling well last night" traitor "Then you weren't there and... I have soup?"

"Soup sounds lovely, Pac."

Fit keeps his thoughts about Philza's meddling to himself, and struggles to sit up instead. Pac quickly puts down the tray, scooting over to help him get comfortable against the cushions.

"I wasn't sure what sort of sick you are feeling, so I bought all the medicines," he gestures not just at the bottle, but the sheets of pills around it too.

"You're too good to me, Pac."

Pac blushes a bit in reply.

It's a little too much to process. Fit waves a thank you and asks, "soup first?"

"Of course, of course," Pac shifts the tray over, balancing it on Fit's lap. "Do you need help, or...?"

"I'll be fine," Fit reassures - its just a stuffy head cold. "Try not to get sick?"

"I think Richas already has it. If I'm catching it, I've caught it," Pac shrugs. "Toast?"

The idea makes Fit a little queasy; he shakes his head.

Is it good to know some virus is spreading around the island? No, but at least there's someone else to blame if Pac does end up sick. Richars probably caught it off one of the other kids in turn, germ factories that they are.

A hand reaches his forehead, resting there a second as Pac scowls. Fit lets him be, focusing on the bowl of soup in his hands.

Chicken, and there's some sort of noodle in it. The noodles bits are a little much for his throat, but the liquid itself is good.

"I don't think its a fever?" Pac eventually concludes. "So, um..."

As Fit eats a little more soup, Pac starts picking out some of the medicines. A sneezing fit later and he's handed a handful of tablets, and a glass of juice.

Fit...

Fit hesitates.

But then he looks up at Pac, and decides he is going to trust him.

He takes the handful of pills, swallows them dry, then sips at the juice to quell the anxiety of /something/ in his throat.

"Thank you," Pac says, and really shouldn't that be Fit's line?

Instead he's struggling to keep the medication down, not because of sickness but panic.

A familiar hand reaches out, rubbing his shoulder. It feels good for a moment, before suddenly it pulls away.

"Sorry, sorry," Pac mutters.

"You're good," Fit replies, and stuffy nose warping the tone.

More hesitantly, the hand returns. Fit gives the medicine a few moments to settle, and finishes the juice. Shakily he lifts the tray back up, only for Pac to swoop down and take it.

Fit slumps a bit into the pillows.

"I'll be back when you can have more medicine...?" Pac suggests.

That's good, that sounds good; Fit doesn't want Pac staying and getting sick too.

So he nods, and scoots back down below the cover.

Just as he begins to doze, there's the brush of lips atop his head. And Fit...

Fit isn't sure what to do, so he pretends not to notice, and allows himself to slip back into fragmented sleep.