#it is midnight once again

[z-skull]

⭐UNDEFEATABLE ⭐

[black-and-yellow]

The walk home from UA

[simcardiac-arrested]

day 30 - videogame (undertale, fnaf, etc)

somebody get this man some chapstick

[yangjeongin]

HYUNJIN BIRTHDAY COUNTDOWN (2024): bonus sets – ↘ D-3 | VERSACE PRINCE

[dapper-lil-arts]

Celebrating writing a second chapter of my dumbass sex fic

[atlabeth]

Girl for one get that glass of water! andddd this is a loose request but I LOVE knight Luke and we just gotta see them have that cinderella live action ball scene like romantic dancing maybe the secret garden as well but either way we gotta see these gals at a ball! Have a great day you're an amazing writer!

under the moonlight

fic about the ball

pairing: knight!luke castellan x princess!reader

a/n: thank you so much for this request it is so fucking cute lmao. i changed it a bit to make it work with my vision (bc they wouldn’t really be able to dance at a ball) but the core is that they're dancing together!!! and it is much more intimate and personal lol. here is the cinderella scene that the ask mentioned (and that i took inspo from because it's a beautiful scene lol)

wc: 2.5k

warning(s): basically all fluff

as usual, a mix of hcs and traditional fic!

ALRIGHT LAST TIME WE LEFT OFF princess was dancing with princes during the ball and luke was sulking at his first ever ball accompanying you as a knight 

and thankfully, that all goes okay. 

You don’t get murdered, Luke only goes slightly insane, and you don’t fall head over heels for any royals. 

All in all, a pretty alright night in retrospect. 

But post-ball is rough on both of you. 

You complain about how much your feet hurt from your heels and how uncomfortable your dress is and how your cheeks ache from smiling so much. 

To your surprise, as Luke follows you down the halls, he laughs. 

You stop in your tracks as you whirl around. “And what do you find so funny?”

“Nothing,” he says with a slight smile, almost private. “Just… good to be back with you, princess.”

A small smile of your own starts to creep on your lips. “It was only half the night, Luke.”

“And you have no idea how much I missed you,” he muses. 

You just shake your head and continue walking. “You’re funny.”

(he’s not joking. he’s just going through it now that he’s not training 24/7 and actually has time to feel emotions again) 

You finally get back to your room—thankfully, you got out of any post-ball events with any princes by citing exhaustion, and it’s very rude to demand more of an exhausted lady—and Luke shuts the door behind you as you sink into the edge of your bed. 

“God,” you groan as you immediately peel your heels off, letting out a sigh of relief. “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to those.”

“If it’s any help, you looked very regal out there,” Luke says.

“It is my duty,” you say as you smile inwardly. “You looked very knightly out there.”

“And that’s my duty,” he says in kind. He gets a chuckle out of you. 

You begin to take everything off—you undo your hair from whatever elaborate style it was in, you strip your wrists and fingers bare of bracelets, bangles, and rings (though you leave a certain necklace on), you undo parts of your dress. When you take your nightgown from your chest and go behind your folding screen, Luke clears his throat. 

“Princess,” Luke says, “do you want me to—?”

“You can stay,” you say. “I don’t mind.”

And Luke, idiot that he is, gets all in his head. 

(Does she not want me to leave because she doesn’t even see me as someone who could like her like that???) (We’ve been friends for so long, does she just see me as an older brother???) (Does this mean she trusts me or sees me as like. a painting on the wall.) (what the fuck) 

It’s not any of those, poor boy. it’s just that you feel more comfortable around him than anyone because you’ve been around each other for your entire life—he knows you better than anyone. What’s the harm in him being in the room when you’re separated by a folding screen anyway?

but Luke is dramatic and also so fucking insecure when it comes to your feelings for him lmao 

and he has a reason to be i guess?? because at this point while he knows that he has feelings for you (hasn’t fully realized he’s in love) you haven’t realized your own. you just think you have a lingering childhood crush on Luke and it’ll go away as you get older and start being courted 

(spoiler alert: it will not go away.) 

so he gets all weird and silent, giving one word responses as you talk with him, and when you come out in your nightgown you immediately stare him down. 

“Luke,” you said, “what’s wrong?” 

He blinked, as if he wasn’t expecting you to say anything. “Nothing.” 

“Luke,” you repeated. “Come on.” 

“Nothing’s wrong,” he repeated as well. 

You crossed your arms. “Don’t act like I don’t know every single thing about you.” 

“If you do, then you should know that nothing is wrong,” he countered. 

You stared at him for a moment more, then you held out your hand. “Dance with me, then.” 

That actually seemed to throw him off guard as he frowned. “What?” 

“Did you go deaf back there?” you joked. “I want you to dance with me.” 

He managed a smile, though it was slightly awkward. It only made your smile grow. “I don’t dance, princess.” 

“Which is why I’ll teach you,” you said with a nod. “I’ve had plenty of practice.” 

“And I have none.” Luke gestured at his armor. “I’m not exactly suited for it, either.” 

“You can take off your armor,” you said. “It’ll make it all much easier. And a lot quieter.” 

“My job is to protect you, princess.” Luke laid his hand on the hilt of his sword. “I can’t exactly defend you if all the armor’s gone.” 

You rolled your eyes good-naturedly. He really did worry too much. “Nothing’s going to happen here, Luke—not now. I’ll even let you keep your sword with you if it matters that much.” 

He still didn’t seem sure. You inclined your head and took another step forward, still holding out your hand. 

“I’ll count you through it all,” you promised. “And if you like, I can hum one of those orchestra tunes they played earlier tonight. And I promise it’ll make you feel better.”

“...Fine,” Luke relented, and he started undoing his armor. “But you don’t tell anyone about this.” 

“Your secret is safe with me,” you remarked. 

It took a fair amount of time for Luke to get his armor off, but it took just as long for you to get every layer of your ball gown off earlier—and besides, you had endless patience reserved especially for him. The toned forearms revealed as he rolled his sleeves up certainly helped. 

“Are you ready?” you asked as you held out your hand again. 

Luke took it uncertainly. “I feel as if I’m the one meant to be asking you that.” 

“You can lead next time we train together,” you said with a smile. “For now, you’re in my domain.” 

You put Luke’s hand on your waist and reached for his other one, adjusting until it was right, then you looked up at him. “Does that feel alright?” 

His eyes were startlingly dark this close, surprisingly intense. He nodded. 

“Good. I’m going to teach you a few basic steps so you can get used to it.” 

Luke nodded again. You wondered why words seemed behind his grasp. 

yeah girlie I wonder why 

Luke is. not a great dancer 

You’re not surprised, and you don’t say a single word about it as you teach him the basics. he spent his childhood swinging a sword around, and you spent yours learning etiquette and ballroom dances lol 

He steps on your foot about ten times and apologizes like a freak every time, you just laugh and smile and tell him you’re fine. Sure, your slippers don’t provide much protection and Luke’s boots aren’t great against them but you honestly don’t even feel it. you’re too busy getting lost in his eyes lol 

And for someone who spent two years training like an insane person, he gets frustrated very easily when things don’t go his way. 

“How do you do this? It’s impossible.” 

“I learned this dance when I was twelve, Luke.” 

as much as you jest while you’re teaching him the basics you’re encouraging him the entire time because he’s your best friend above all else!!! and you honestly believe he can do anything lmao 

And he’s a quick learner! He didn’t become the youngest kingsguard in history by learning slowly. So soon enough, you’re actually dancing together. 

Luke’s hand on your back feels like the most natural thing in the world, and you can tell he’s actually starting to get a little into it. 

You didn’t have to count your steps off anymore, so you’d switched to humming one of your favorite symphonies from the musicians back in Aurelda. 

Luke is still focused on landing every move, but your lead and the music gives him confidence in this that he didn’t really know he had. He spins you, and you get an idea as you twirl your way to the balcony door. You open it and look back at him. 

“Princess—” Luke starts as he takes a few steps towards you, but you just shake your head with a grin and hold out your hand. 

“Trust me.” 

And he does, somehow. 

You didn’t know what part of himself Luke had to get to in order to actually go along with this, but he allowed you to fully take the lead. His eyes never left yours as you guided him through one of your favorite dances—sometimes you called out whatever move that was coming next, and he would do it perfectly. His instincts and reaction time, sharply honed by his training, actually came in handy. 

“And lift!” 

Luke braced his hands on your waist as he raised you into the air without missing a beat, and you found yourself actually laughing with pure glee as you landed. You grinned at Luke who had a smile smaller than yours, but that you knew meant the same. He glowed with exertion and the light of the full moon shone down on him. 

Angelic was the only word you could think of to describe him. 

“Princess,” he said, bringing you back to the real world, “are we done?” 

“I see no reason not to end while we’re ahead,” you said, slightly out of breath from his lift. “You’re a natural. Are you sure you’re not a prince?” 

Luke’s smile didn’t fully reach his eyes for the slightest moment—he covered it up before you could fully analyze it. “Thankfully, I’m not. Otherwise I would have had to do that all my life like you.” 

“Oh, it’s not that bad,” you said offhandedly. “Especially when you’ve got such a great partner.” 

Luke suddenly lowered himself into a bow, his arm held in front of his chest as he bent over. You couldn’t stifle your laugh in time, but he was smiling when he rose. 

“The only proper way to truly end a dance, so I’ve seen,” he said. “I wouldn’t be such a great partner if I forgot that.” 

You grinned as you took the skirt of your nightgown in your hands and bobbed into a curtsy. “Thank you for the reminder, my lord.” 

A shiver ran through you and Luke’s eyebrows creased. “You should get back inside. You’re not dressed at all for this weather.” 

“It’s simply a night chill,” you said, and you walked over to the railing and rested your forearms on it. “And it’s too beautiful a night to ignore.” 

“It truly is.” 

You heard Luke walk up next to you, so you glanced over. His gaze was only set on you. 

You felt your cheeks flush and you bit back your smile as you stared back up at the stars. For a moment, you stood together in comfortable silence. 

“Thank you for tonight,” you finally said. 

You could hear his frown in his words. “What do you mean?” 

“Exactly what I said.” You leaned a bit closer to the railing, shifting your balance. “Your presence always… calms me. And I was a bit nervous for tonight.” 

When Luke finally responded, it was more restrained than usual. “Why?” 

“Well, I was nervous tonight because you put the idea in my head that I was going to get murdered,” you said wryly. “And your presence calms me because it always has.” 

“So… I made you nervous and calmed you down for what I made you nervous about?” Luke shook his head. “I’m sorry, princess.” 

“Why are you apologizing?” You finally turned to look at him, the smallest smile on your lips. “Anytime I got overwhelmed on the floor, or felt as if I was going to keel over from boredom, I just searched around until I found you.” You shrugged. “The sight of you alone was enough to get me through the rest of it.” 

“And of course,” you tipped a shoulder as your gaze drifted back to the stars, “you danced with me for no reason. That gives you all the good will you need from me.” 

“It wasn’t for no reason,” he said. “It made you happy. That’s reason enough for me.” 

The chill in the air was a blessing as you felt heat rise in your cheeks, and your smile grew just so. 

“Besides.” You could feel his eyes on you as he continued. “This was my first ball. Anytime I got overwhelmed, I would find you in the crowd, and your confidence got me through it.” 

You chuckled as your gaze fell to the marble railing. You didn’t know if you’ve ever felt less confident at a ball—but knowing that Luke was looking for you the same way you did him made butterflies arise in your stomach. 

Warmth spurned all through you, and the fingers on your forearms felt bumps rise on your skin. You didn’t exactly know what possessed you as you cleared your throat and started back towards your room. 

“It’s late,” you said, perhaps a bit too hasty. “We— we should turn in. It’s going to be a long ride back to Aurelda.” 

You paused at the door, waiting to hear Luke’s footsteps or his voice, and it took a few seconds for him to do anything. 

“...Yes,” he eventually said. “I apologize for keeping you so long.” 

You couldn’t help but laugh to yourself as you opened the door and walked back in. Always so noble—it was no question he had knight’s blood in his veins. 

“It’s not your fault, Luke,” you said. “You were just meant to drop me off—I got you to stay.” 

You sat on the side of your bed as Luke put his armor back on. There was no point in it, but he refused to let the implications of him leaving your room at this hour in his underclothes fester. 

“I chose to stay,” he said. “I know better.” 

“You can give it a rest for a night, Luke,” you said with a slight laugh. “I’m your princess, aren’t I?” 

“Certainly.” 

“And you are my knight.” 

“Yes.” 

“Then I don’t see how anyone could have a problem with my knight spending time with me.” You smiled as you leaned forward, meeting his eyes. A smile twitched on his lips for just a moment before he continued to get dressed. 

Soon enough, he was ready to go. Luke paused at the door, fingers on the handle, and met your eyes. 

“Thank you again for tonight, princess,” he said. “I…” 

His breath caught for a moment. His eyes flickered down to your neck. A millisecond later, they were back at eye level, and you allowed a knowing smile. 

“I enjoyed it,” he murmured. “Goodnight, princess.” 

“Goodnight, Luke,” you said softly. 

And you got one more smile out of him before he closed the door behind him. 

[guardian-angle22]

911: Lone Star | Tarlos Head Kisses (S1 -> S4)

↳ for @rmd-writes

[herebutnotpresent]

click for better quality

Brainwashed Jetko au where both Jet and Zuko get taken by the Dai Li and are displaced in the big city.

Jet and Li find each other anyways.

(That luck however did not extend to their family and friends)

Its all good...then it catches up to them :D

[andypantsx3]

hope every tech director knows that no one thinks they are impressive or driven or admirable for working 24 hours a day. we are just embarrassed for them that they have 0 hobbies and what can only be an extremely shallow family life :)

[artful-peculiarities]

I love Ted Singular. He’s a cunt. He belongs to a race of extraterrestrials who are all middle management. He whines a lot. He hates his job but loves infodumping. He wants to know what’s in the box. He’s the picture of cringefail loser. A regular human guy absolutely loves annoying the shit outta him and it works every time.

Truly among the characters of all time

[fulgurbugs]

My silly goofies

[midnight-melancholiaaa]

my belated submission for the @andorshitdaily shitpost saturday anniversary event!!

after about 6 hours of youtube trawling and editing, the season 1 andor vine compilation is complete… enjoy!

thank you again to @chipthekeeper for organising this event and creating such a lovely community of andor fans!! 🧡

[hydn-jpg]

redraw of this piece!! i mentioned in that post that i would redraw it at some point and ig that time is now! (i meant to post this before id2 came out but i got really busy so y'know lol better late than never)

i like to think i've improved! still can't draw chairs though haha

side by side comparison under the cut + rambly artist commentary(?):

i still have a long way to go in learning proper anatomy but i think the new pose looks a lot more natural and comfortable! also ~sexier~ perhaps

i tried to make the bg look closer to the actual cg they used in the book, i am arguably better at doing backgrounds now i think! i used to not put a lot of thought into it and just blocked out random shapes and called it a day (okay, i still do that now lol but i put more care into it now !! i try to make the shapes a bit more distinct and actually plan and sketch it out rather than draw some blobs and hope for the best ldkfkhsl). also more colour range(?) to give it a bit more depth!!)

i'd also like to add that i think i'm also better at figuring out compositions now, idk how it is for y'all but when i look at the original my eyes can't help but just fall to the centre, bc there's no focal point(?) or anything that's visually interesting for the eyes to land on. plus with the way it's structured, my eyes just naturally fall to center (+ bottom half bc the skin showing through the rips are bright in contrast to the black) >_> in contrast, in the redraw your eyes are automatically drawn to the face bc it's arguably the most interesting thing on the canvas and thus acts as the visual anchor of sorts (plus there is enough contrast with the background to make cas stand out instead of blend in)

even though i cringe looking at the og i can't help but to also feel endeared bc this was one of the first immortal desires fanart i ever did and also one the first of my posts to do really well! i never expected to get that much attention since i was only posting casually but it really warmed my heart reading all the lovely comments and motivated to draw more :D

it's also really fun seeing how much my art style and techniques have evolved! i don't think i use any of the same brushes i used to use for my old pieces anymore now haha. i also watched the timelapse for the old one and am honestly kind of in awe at how my different my drawing process used to be!!

i still have a lot to learn (esp in terms of anatomy, lighting, shading etc.) but i'm happy with where i am rn! the great thing about being a hobbyist is that there isn't really any pressure for me to improve quickly so i can just take my time haha (except maybe from imposter syndrome but that's neither here nor there)

i think i could've drawn his face and expression a bit better but i think this is a satisfying enough redraw for now!

btw, these are just my thoughts! i am not an art student so the things i said might not be technically correct but this is how i make sense of things in my brain

[quaranmine]

the here and now

After dying in Limited Life, Joel wakes up in his bed on Empires. Except he isn't alone when he does.

Words: 2312; Joel and Jimmy centric.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

Joel wakes up thrashing, sitting straight up in his bed. It feels like breaking the surface after nearly drowning, lungs burning and filled with a desperation to live. He gasps for air, and finding it available in acceptable quantities, breathes it in greedily. 

It’s okay. He’s okay. He’s awake now. He’s awake now? Why is he awake? Where is he? 

His skin feels hot and clammy to the touch. His head is fuzzy and heavy. His rest was not restful. He feels like he has a fever that has just broken, or is about to break. Some sweat runs down the side of his face, and it’s warm. 

It takes him a moment to get his bearings, but Joel is actually well-accustomed to this feeling. He just isn’t red anymore, that’s all. Joel has been red enough times and for long enough periods of time to be intimately familiar with the feeling. And everybody wakes up like this, in the end. There is always an end, and even when you don’t remember it, there is always a bed to wake up in afterwards. 

Being dragged from red and dead back into the world of the living is like being yanked out of a bloody haze and splayed onto the ground. He’s still shaking. 

Joel blinks and takes in his surroundings. The room is mostly dim, but there’s a dusky slice of light coming in from partially ajar window shutters. He can see little bits of dust hanging in the air, almost like little sparkles in the golden sunbeam. 

He isn’t in the Bad Boys base. He’s not on top of the burned out and flooded mansion, or in his submarine, or alone and exposed on the rocks of spawn. Instead, he’s in a room he recognizes well, surrounded by massive pillars of regally carved quartz. The room is filled with marble and stone with intricate carved detail. It’s massively oversized too–fit for a god, and nothing less. 

So. He’s home.

So. That was the end for him, after all. 

He exhales slowly, letting his breathing steady out. The extra minute of thinking has graced him with a little more clarity. The desperation and madness he felt upon waking up–the desperation and madness of before, of ticking clocks and red names–is trickling away, slipping through his fingers like sand from an hourglass. He doesn’t feel the blood rushing in his ears anymore. He just feels tired. 

Something catches Joel’s attention suddenly, though. He’s not actually alone in this room. There, leaned up against one of the walls and sitting on a marble windowsill is the sheriff himself. 

Jimmy is here. 

Joel’s first thought is that Jimmy looks small. Well, that’s a given. He is small. He is a small little toy-sized man. Jimmy’s feet are so far off the floor that Joel wonders how he even managed to climb up onto the windowsill in the first place. After all, Stratos is sized for a god. 

But the thing about Jimmy is this: his presence is always large. When Jimmy enters a room, he is noticeable. He has bravado, and a healthy dose of unearned swagger, and certainly too much ego, but he nonetheless cannot be ignored. He’ll trip over his own shoelaces and then claim to be the most agile person on the server thirty seconds later, and his easy confidence makes you think he might actually believe that.

Sometimes, though, Jimmy fills a room with better things. He is often loud when he is agitated or indignant, but he is especially so when he is excited. His happy shouts liven up the atmosphere and his laughter fills a room. Jimmy is a presence unto himself, and somehow a magnetizing one. He’s easy to tease and somehow impossible to hate, even at his worst. Joel can never tell him that, though, or he’d be even more insufferable than he already is. 

But today Jimmy seems quiet and small. 

It looks like he might even be asleep. His head is tilted to the side, resting against the wall. Like he was trying to stay awake but drifted off. 

Joel swings his feet around and over the side of the bed, standing up quietly. He takes a step forward, but the room is large, empty, and full of polished stone, so his footsteps are louder than anticipated. Jimmy stirs at the noise, and suddenly sits straight upright. He always did react to the slightest of sounds, even when you thought he was otherwise oblivious. 

Jimmy startles upon seeing him. “Joel!” he yelps. “You’re–you’re here.”

“Hello, Sheriff,” Joel says. “Were you actually watching me sleep? That’s so weird.”

“No! I wasn’t watching you sleep!” Jimmy cries indignantly. The energy in his voice peaks at Joel’s jab, and all is familiar for a moment, before Jimmy suddenly gets somber again and his voice swings low once more. “I was…I was watching your bed, actually. You weren’t in it before.”

“That’s not any less weird,” Joel decides, but what he can’t admit is that he gets it. Joel was gone. He was in another server, another plane of existence. He was a different Joel. He wasn’t God Joel of Stratos over there. And then he died for good and when he respawned he woke up on his home server, just like Jimmy did. And…Jimmy knew that would happen.

It’s weird, but it’s no less weird than the way the Bad Boys slept in beds pushed up next to each other out under the stars, or the way they woke up in the mornings accidentally snuggled together. 

What comfort did Jimmy take in Joel’s empty bed? Comfort in seeing every minute that he lived longer? What disappointment greeted him when he woke up to see Joel was back so soon?

Jimmy looks concerned and gives Joel a once-over. “Why are you here?” he asks. His voice is earnest, urgently pressing him to answer. 

“Why aren’t you in Tumble Town?” Joel asks instead.

“No, you don’t get it, you don’t get what I’m saying,” he pushes, and stands up on the windowsill from his sitting position so he can look Joel in the eyes from across the room. “I’m asking you why you’re here.”

“I get it, Jim,” Joel says softly. “I got it the first time.”

“But you didn’t answer my question,” Jimmy demands. “Why are you here?”

“Why are you here?” Joel says. “Before everyone else?”

“You know why I’m here first,” Jimmy says bitterly. “I’m always here first. It was inescapable. But it wasn’t for you, you were supposed to live longer!”

“It didn’t have to be inescapable,” Joel whispers. “You could have lived.”

“I never live.”

“You could have,” Joel insists, and he crosses the room in a few long steps to look at Jimmy more closely. “I was going to sacrifice myself for you, you know. I was going to give you my time so that you wouldn’t be the first to die. It didn’t have to be like this.”

“But it did,” Jimmy says. He drags his eyes away from Joel’s. “And it was like this. Because it is always like this.”

“I was going to sacrifice myself for you,” Joel repeats, nearly at a whisper. “And you went and died anyway.”

“I didn’t–I didn’t ask you to do that,” Jimmy says. 

“It didn’t bother you with Scott or Bdubs. You took their time happily. Why couldn’t it be me?”

“They aren’t the Bad Boys,” Jimmy says. “They aren’t you or Grian.”

“It should have been me because we’re the Bad Boys,” Joel says sharply. “That’s what we do, we look out for each other. I was going to give you time. God, I wish I gave you time. I shouldn’t have waited.”

“It wouldn’t have mattered,” Jimmy says miserably. “You couldn’t have saved me.”

“Ugh!” Joel throws up his hands. “You’re so–you’re so blimmin’ annoying! You’re impossible! Why do you keep acting like you wanted to die? Why do you keep arguing with me?”

“I didn’t want to die!” Jimmy cries. “I never do! But wanting to live isn’t enough in those games. You didn’t need to die instead of me, Joel. There was never a chance of winning if I was there, but I thought that maybe since I had gone…”

“Well, a fat lot of good that did me,” Joel snaps, gestures dramatically, “because as you can see, I’m dead anyway!"

“You were too reckless,” Jimmy says. “You were supposed to live.”

“Reckless? Coming from you?” 

Jimmy flinches a little, and clenches and unclenches a fist. “I tried,” he says, words clipped. 

“That’s what makes it worse, Jim.” Joel laughs, but it’s strangled. It’s cutting, and it sounds a lot more like the way God Joel of Stratos used to harass the Sheriff of Tumble Town, and not like a friend. 

“I don’t need your pity and I didn’t need your time,” Jimmy snaps. 

“It wasn’t out of pity, Jimmy,” Joel says. He runs a hand through his hair. “Maybe someone actually cares about ya a little, you know. For once.” 

Jimmy doesn’t speak. 

Joel shakes his head. “And I know you would have taken my time. Don’t pretend like you wouldn’t have. I know what you felt ‘cause I felt it too before I died. That panic just takes over and…yeah. You would have accepted my bloody time!”

Jimmy looks down. “I thought you and Grian would have lasted longer once you stopped having to worry about me.”

What Joel doesn’t say is that he was never going to have lasted without Jimmy. It was his plan from the start–play recklessly, lose a lot of time, and then donate the rest to Jim, thereby breaking the cycle and making Joel die first. He never planned to live a long time. Live fast and die young, yeah?

And without Jimmy, well–well Joel hardly remembers most of it, in truth. He went a little mad, maybe. He remembers Grian withdrawing a bit. He remembers bloodshed and TNT minecarts and the high adrenaline of battle. He remembers the desperation of the final minutes on the clock, how it felt like he was clawing for scraps that might let him hang on a few moments longer. And he remembers thinking that maybe he could have delayed this fate for Jimmy, just a little longer, if he’d only died earlier. 

But for the life of him he doesn’t remember a single thing about his thought processes from then. There’s only Jimmy’s death, and then a haze of actions he can’t quite rationalize. Probably because none of them mattered at all anymore. He should have been dead by then, anyway. He was never supposed to watch any of the Bad Boys die before him.

 “Jimmy,” Joel says quietly. “How long did you plan to wait on me?”

“The whole time, I guess,” Jimmy says. “I was hoping it would be a while.”

“That could have been more than a week. You were gonna watch an empty bed for days?”

“The longer the better,” Jimmy mutters. He’s embarrassed now, cheeks flushed pink and eyes averted from Joel’s. “Is Grian–because Empires isn’t his home server, so I can’t just check–”

“Grian was still alive,” Joel confirms. “At least he was when I died.”

He told me not to leave him alone. But Joel had left Grian alone, in spirit at least, from the moment Jimmy died. And Grian had known it, because he had already been making arrangements for a new alliance afterwards. 

Joel wanted to feel betrayed about that, but all he felt was emptiness right now. He's so tired. He's too tired to care about it anymore.

“Do you think he has a chance?”

“He had a lot of time,” Joel says. “I think he’ll be fine.”

“He could win it for the Bad Boys,” Jimmy says. 

“Since we couldn’t, you mean?”

Jimmy chuckles a little and ducks his head. “Well, I think expecting me to win for the Bad Boys was a little much.”

“Ugh,” Joel says. “I didn’t even want you to win, I just wanted you to not be out first.”

“I’m sorry.”

Joel rolls his eyes. “You’re fine.”

“You didn’t really do much better did you?” Jimmy says. “Like, I seriously thought it would take longer for you to get here.”

“You’re so rude, Timmy,” Joel says. He pauses for a moment to think. The name of the game is inevitability. Jimmy could have received more time, but he still would have died. Joel just wouldn’t have been around to see it. “There’s really no point though, is there?” he says after a moment. “To doing better, I mean. Dying just means we get to leave and come home faster.”

“It never seems like that though,” Jimmy says. “When you’re actually in the game, I mean. It feels like winning is everything.”

“So here’s to not winning, then.” 

Joel raises an invisible glass. Jimmy returns the gesture. 

“Here’s to not winning.”

Joel turns toward the door, takes one step, and then pivots back around to Jimmy once more. “Actually, uh, do you want to go to the tavern with me, the one in Sanctuary? El Caldero de Colores? We could get a real drink and maybe some food that isn’t bread for once.”

“Hey, what was wrong with bread?” Jimmy says indignantly. “Joel, get back here. Tell me what’s wrong with bread!”

Joel’s already halfway out the door, but he calls back over his shoulder. “Are you coming, or do you need help getting off that windowsill? Unfortunately, Stratos doesn’t make step stools, but I’m sure I could find something that works.”

“I hate you,” Jimmy calls back. 

“We’re not in our hater arc anymore Jim, can’t you read the sign I made for Tumble Town? Or do your schools not teach reading out there?”

“Yeah, whatever,” Jimmy grumbles. “We’re best buds.”

[quillst]

Kelsey was so hot that last episo- (I get chucked off my podium and break both my kneecaps from the sheer force of the tomatoes thrown at me)

[odderevents]

I have had a thought. Steve secretly knowing how to play the piano bc he learned as a kid and had to stop bc his dad's an asshole is lovely. I've seen this floating around a few times and I love it. Eddie catching him playing the piano and being so fucking in love with him will never not be perfect.

But.

Consider

Steve playing the Harp.

It's definitely a rich kid instrument. Big ass fucking impractical instrument. Absolutely beautiful to look at and listen to. Hands playing piano is great. But have you ever seen an accomplished harpist? It makes you think impure thoughts about what those fingers can do.

So. Steve secretly knowing how to play the harp

Maybe his mom used to play it, so there's a big harp (the ones with the columns and super intricate base board, not celtic) that's just gathering dust in the basement. Steve started piano lessons, loved learning how to pull music out of an inert object. But his dad decides it's to effeminate, makes him stop. And sure, a harp is a different beast to a piano. But you've still got cords, and Steve's got a pretty decent ear, and he can barely remember seeing his mom play. So one day when he has the house to himself, which isn't an unusual occurrence at this point, he tries it out. And he's admittedly pretty shit at it, but so was he at piano when he started. Only difference is he has no teacher.

So maybe Steve discreetly finds a way to acquire a beginner's practice instructional book for harp. And works on it when he needs to get his brain away from things.

He's even more careful with it than he is with any dirty mags he might later acquire. He knows that worse, much worse than piano, harp is not a masculine instrument and under no circumstances should his father find out about his affinity for it.

It's still his go to when he can't sleep even years later, pulling out the now old and battered booklet of sheet music and exercises. Especially once the upside down bullshit starts. It's soothing and mindless at this point.

The harp that was much too big when he first started with it is now just the right size, it's weight against his shoulder comforting. He can close his eyes and his fingers naturally find where to land and pluck.

Even when he becomes friends with Robbin and then Eddie, both musicians who he knows wouldn't give a damn about him playing a woman's instrument, he can't bring himself to mention it. If he did, they would want to hear him play and he's self-conscious about being self-taught. Both of them play well, they play with other people and people come to listen. He doesn't consider himself a "real" musician. It's just something he does to keep his hands and brain busy on nights where the sheets feel like they're strangling him and the dark reminds him too much of when he can't see not because it's night but because something's hit him in the head again and he can't tell apart the sound of his heartbeat from something pounding through his walls.

So he goes to the basement. Finds his stool. Removes the dust cover. Goes through the meditative motions of tuning it by ear, because that's how he's always done it. And then he plays until the tips of his fingers feel numb. Somehow, he always comes out of it peaceful enough to pass out on the couch in the basement for a couple more hours.

Steve is so used to keeping it a secret he doesn't even think about it when he starts dating Eddie. It's just a thing that's always only been his, and most importantly, it's been vital to keep it that way for so long it's the natural state of things for Steve at this point. It doesn't ever come up. When Steve gets nightmares when he's sleeping with Eddie all he has to do is curl into his boyfriend's chest and feel the warm heartbeat that's not his own to settle back into himself.

The problem arises on a night when Eddie was supposed to stay with Steve but he got held up in Indianapolis when getting a new amp for his guitar. He would come back to Steve but it would be late in the night. Steve has been keeping himself busy all day so he passes out in the early evening on the couch in front of a shitty sitcom he put on to try to distract himself from the empty house.

Nightmares find him, which isn't terribly unusual, but he doesn't have his usual method of coping so he resorts back to his previous habit.

Eddie walks in bone tired after many hours of driving to and from Indianapolis, waiting while the clerk figured out they didn't have the amp he'd been assured over the phone would be available for pickup today, waiting some more while they had the amp driven from a sister shop an hour away because no way was he driving back and forth again to Indianapolis on another day. So yeah. Eddie is beat. All he wants is to dive head first into his boyfriend's impeccable pecs.

He doesn't find Steve waiting with a welcome kiss like he usually would when he walks in. Instead he's greeted with a hauntingly beautiful rendition of the melody of Master of Puppets in a way he's never heard before.

He drops his stuff in the entry hall and goes down to the basement where the music is coming from, curious to see where Steve might have found the recording. Eddie doesn't quite know what to do with himself when he finally lays eyes on Steve, with dried tear stains on his cheeks and his eyes closed as his fingers pluck and strum without hesitation. He's rooted to the spot as he watches Steve work his favorite song in a new and completely heartrending way. He hasn't been able to listen to it since he played it in the upside down. It always brings up the bitter blood tang of the air and the hair raising shrieks of the bats. But this is somehow different, it's soft and melodious but it's still got the same bones.

Eddie feels tears on his own cheeks. He's missed this song goddammit. And he couldn't be happier that it's Steve that's given it back to him

Queue tears and fear and confessions and comfort. Somehow much later in the future there's inexplicably a harp in some of the corroded coffin tracks. And it shouldn't work but it does