#like yeah its got funny moments and people love to call it the funny communism game

[bloodanddiscoballs]

Kim is a,fascist

are you stupid

[canmom]

Comics mini-Comints: Dungeon Meshi

reread dungeon meshi through to the end. still such a great manga. here are immediate thoughts - if I end up having time and energy I hope I can write something that goes deeper!

ironically i was only a few chapters from the end when I stopped keeping up, but I was struggling to remember all the characters and context, so reading it through in one go was definitely an ideal way to achieve maximum impact there.

ryoko kui does a very elegant job of handling a transition from 'silly antics' to 'big dramatic fantasy' while still keeping the central thematic throughline - eating and being eaten, belonging to an ecosystem, the significance of sacrificing others to achieve your own desires. a lot of setups pay off in a way that feels meticulously planned - and of course the crux of the final showdown revolves around characters attempting to eat each other, of course the big payoff is a huge feast that symbolically unites all the conflicting factions. it is maybe a bit too neat and happy for my taste, but it's undeniably tightly executed - it never loses sight of what it's about. especially compared to something like Frieren, it's an incredibly coherent serialisation, up there with e.g. Fullmetal Alchemist.

kui's art style deserves all kinds of praise - it feels effortlessly simple, but it clearly communicates all sorts of different shapes and body types and it's really fun to see her play around with remixing the different visual elements when she switches the races around. in general Laius's autistic monster loving ways clearly reflect kui's own deeply felt appreciation for all the ways people and animals live (accentuated further by all the extra sketches the scanlators tuck in). in a way you could kinda call it like Parts Unknown the fantasy manga.

the stakes of the final conflict are interesting - there is much to be said about the framing of 'desire' and its fulfilment, of this occult idea of 'the infinite'. lots you could put in relation to other manga, and also buddhism. (in particular I really want to develop a comparison to Made In Abyss, there are so many parallels, it just might be too spicy for tumblr lmao).

one thing I really like about it is how much its fantasy dungeon-exploring setting owes to D&D and other TTRPGs, rather than videogames. monster ecology has been a fascination of that game since the early days of Dragon magazine, and Kui sharply zeroes in on some of the intrinsic conflicts baked in to that fantasy milieu, notably the lifespan thing, while smartly avoiding the traps of 'evil races'. there's some really fun nods to the weirder monster manual entries. and in a story with so many characters and factions, it does a genuinely incredible job of furnishing everyone with understandable, reasonable motivations, conflicts drawn from their context just like the monsters are explained by their ecology.

and one thing that I particularly appreciate is like... how much it is able to simultaneously understand and sympathise with a character and also show us how and why they'd rub others the wrong way. it's impossible not to like our main group, they're all such charming dorks and the manga leads you along with all the crazy rpg party shit they do, but at the same time you definitely find yourself thinking 'guy's got a point' in the kabru chapters lmao. I'm projecting hard bc i don't really know a thing about ryōko kui but laius def feels like the sort of depiction of having an autism that you can only do if you've lived it.

but yeah, it's a fuzzy ending where it all turns out well. but what's the deeper thrust of it all? there's a funny moment where marcille is like 'maybe in the end our journey is about learning to accept death' and the grouchy old gnome guy completely laughs this off as naive, because death doesn't mean anything. and indeed their big plan pays off, and falin does indeed come back just fine. but still, through all of this it asks you to bite the bullet that being a living creature means eating to survive, at the cost of other creatures, with the other side being that one day you too will be eaten. in contrast to this honest way of being is the beguiling fantasy of infinity, where all your desires are immediately fulfilled - this is shown as a dangerous path of corruption that produces madness and manipulability. having limits and rubbing up against the wishes of others, or 'doing things you don't want to do' as izutsumi's arc puts it, becomes necessary for having some kind of definition as a subject. the thing that makes the demon concrete as an entity is a desire, or appetite, that can't immediately be fulfilled.

of course we can connect this to the idea of narrative conflict. a standard advice for putting together a plot is to ask what each character wants and why they can't get it. wanting something implies movement. and indeed over the course of this story, we see that while having too many desires fulfilled too readily leads to incoherence and callousness, equally a character who is left catatonic as their desires have been eaten by the demon must be reawakened to activity by finding a new desire.

it's kinda Buddhist innit. neither the opulence of the palace nor asceticism. desires are what tie you to the world. but mixed with ecology: what a creature does to find the energy to live is what defines its lifestyle, its form.

this is probably where I'd start talking about entropy gradients and shit if i wasn't typing this on a phone at 1:30am lmao.

but yeah - it's a powerful move to go from 'D&D monster recipe show sendup' to 'living with the inherently violent nature of being an organism fated to live in a finite sum game' and yet Dungeon Meshi makes it feel natural and convincing, while remaining tremendously charming and funny throughout. ryōko kui is definitely some kind of genius, and I can't wait to see what her next act is gonna be. it's all definitely making me appreciate the act of eating a lot more.

next story on my plate is probably The Flower That Bloomed Nowhere, which sounds like it will present a very gnarly thematic contrast.

[widgenstain]

Alright, almost a week later, here is my review of Vanya and the night I saw it. Autocorrect didn't let me type this on my phone in my grimy bunk bed and that cold got me good, but here are my thoughts! @itsathingialwayssay , @shegottosayit , @illfayted17 this might interest you. Be aware, there are spoilers for the play as well as the production behind the read more.

I saw the play on Monday September 25th, so my opinions are based on that evening, can’t say anything about other nights!

I’ll start with some negatives:

The theatre. Not so much the interior or the personnel, who are absolutely lovely, but why oh why did I have to hear the trains throughout the whole performance?! At first, I thought it was on purpose, with it being the Russian country side, so you might hear some trains here and there, but no, it’s Charing Cross that you hear. Also it’s freaking expensive, but we knew that.

Secondly, I was annoyed by the audience. It was a surprisingly large number of classic elderly theatre goers, who all seemed to enjoy themselves a lot (except for one guy who snored), some teenagers dragged there by their parents (or the promise of seeing Moriarty) and some assholes, like the ladies next to me. One came in after the first act, prosecco in hand, they whispered to each other during weird moments and generally seemed bored and/or disappointed. Which is their prerogative, you don’t have to like everything I do, but with these two it seemed… performative.

Also, about the standing ovations: I get Andrew’s critique, it’s dumb if you feel like you MUST do it, but the fact is, that in a theatre that small, you don’t get to see the person bowing, if you don’t stand up. So yeah, people stood up, I did too (because unlike in Austria where you clap for like 5 minutes if you DIDN’T like it and for like 30 if you did, in the UK they only come out to take a bow once or twice and I wanted to see him), but these two ladies just left with sourpuss faces.

Thirdly the cigarettes. I knew he was going to smoke on stage, what I wasn’t prepared for was them smelling this bad. They’re not normal cigarettes, they’re of the self-rolled, cheap student tobacco kind, that you only really use for blunts. They reeked. If you’re in the first few rows, I’m sorry.

Fourthly, I don’t know if the play really lent itself to a one man show. Don’t get me wrong, I loved what Simon did with it, the way he mostly cut out the love rivalry between Vanya and the doctor, and shifted the focus more on Helena was a great decision. It made the play more cohesive and boiled it down to its message quicker. Loved the modern language and the Britishisms (could have dealt without the name changes, no one is called Vanya in a play named Vanya) and it was truly laugh out loud funny at times, which is great, because I’m depressed enough without listening to depressed Russian people for a full show.

But still, while it all worked in the end, I think there are plays better suited for this treatment. I have spoken to shegottosayit about this, but I also think they kinda expected a familiarity with the play, because it helps you following the plot. I talked to two girls in the queue outside though and they weren’t familiar with the play and understood it well, so what do I know.

Which brings me to the great stuff. The whole thing starts with Andrew just wandering on stage, smiling into the audience, switching off our lights and turning them on on stage. As if to communicate, ok, we’re in the theatre, you’re here to watch a play, I am an actor doing that play, like we’re all in on a joke. He starts with the different characters and they all have an identifier. For example, Vanya has his sunglasses, Helena her chain, Sonya her dishrag and it’s all nice, haha, see the actor is using props, so you know who is who, it’s simple and harmless. That’s how he gets you. Because he doesn’t need them and over the course of the play he starts playing and fucking with them and it’s SO GOOD!

He doesn’t change his voice much between characters, except the two “funny” ones (and maybe Alexander), there he goes a bit into more comical registers, but for the main characters he pretty much uses the same voice. And you still can tell them apart! Because he changes posture, his body language, yes, his tone, but not his voice and the levels of masculinity and femininity (in a traditional sense), yet he never veers into camp or offensive (that aspect really fed into my unpopular opinion on the whole “straight actors in gay roles” discourse, which I will never talk about). It’s incredible to watch how fast and seamlessly he does that and how effortless too. That’s the craziest thing about watching him act, he makes it seem easy, as if it’s nothing to him.

And the faces. The theatre has opera binoculars you can rent for one pound, I forgot my glasses (mild myopia, objects further away get blurry after a long day, especially if they’re an actor I’m watching from the second to last row), so I was super glad to have them and look at his face close up. What did I see? He changes faces. I’ve seen him do it before, but in this it’s instantly and so quickly! I’m not gonna lie, it’s a bit creepy how he can change his facial shape somehow and go from sweet Sonya to hardened Ivan Vanya. It’s not just countenance or expressions, it’s something else and wow is it impressive! But a bit scary too once you think about it. ^^’

Also “zooming in” on him really cleared up something I’ve been wondering about ever since I’ve seen King Lear: One of Andrew’s biggest shortcomings on film can be that he sometimes comes across as too much, as a bit over the top. It is a theatre actor thing and he’s not the only one doing it (especially not in King Lear) and yes, that completely disappears live on stage. He acts for the whole house, but it always feels natural.

The one thing that felt a little bit forced was the singing in the end, he's right, he’s not a good singer (sorry!) and it took me out a little bit. The ending of Vanya is beautiful and heartfelt, I get what they wanted to achieve with him singing “If you go away”, it was a pause, a mood setter, but I think there are better ways to do this than through a musical interlude. That said, I saw A Little Life the other night, which is by the same production company, they made poor James Norton sing too and compared to him Andrew sings like an angel. So maybe I’m just a massive snob (hint: I am).

The other things that took me out a little were the sex scenes. Yeah, sex scenes in a one man play where the original play has none (at least not explicitly so). Damn, it’s been almost a week and my mind is still reeling from them. Did I like them? I have no fucking clue! I seriously need to talk to someone who didn’t have Andrew star in all her lonely sexy fantasies for the past 4 years, because I need to know how they affected someone with a normal, working brain who is not me.

I was torn between “wtf is going on” “JESUS HE TOOK HIS SHIRT OFF” “…you’re watching a dude make out with himself…” “…the sounds…” “don’t look at his naked back while he’s humping the stage, that’s rude, OH GOD YES LOOK AT HIS NAKED BACK, LOOK AT IT MOVE”. The second scene was even worse, because he’s standing up against a door, entangles his fucking impressive arms and moans as the lady while you see him move as the guy. Which was, yes, hotconfusingweird too, but I could have dealt with it, if he hadn’t mimed the penetration literally two seconds before and my brain just short-circuited and disappeared downstairs. The third confusingly hot thing happens in the end, when the doctor says his goodbyes. It’s actually a very good and touching scene, it has been set up that he’s falling into alcoholism and now that all his endeavours are nil, he downs more than half a bottle of vodka. We’ve all seen Andrew chug that beer in The Town and he does it here as well, but it takes a while and it’s so quiet in the theatre that you can hear him swallow and cry all the way through. Yeah. Yeah, I know.

Seriously though, there are more than one moment when the whole theatre is just stock-still. I mean, people laughed and reacted, again, one guy snored, I sighed a lot at Sonya (#ohlookitme), but in the important moments the theatre was dead quiet. Except for Charing Cross, of course.

When I left the theatre, my brain was buzzing and I walked out right into the backstage area. I read “backstage to the right” and was ready to walk to the right, even though no one was there. Except that stupid me HAD to ask the security, who I recognised from pics and the Cyrano backstage, if that was the way to the signings. And no, it wasn’t, that’s literally in front of the theatre (and honestly, probably why there are no selfies allowed this time, if they were, people would block that busy street for hours), I was walking towards the actual stage door. If I had had just one ounce of more self-confidence, I just could have kept on walking into the dressing rooms, God damnit!! (I’m kidding, I would never do that, and it would most likely get me banned for life, but still, it was a funny situation and that security was actually really nice and cool).

As for the signing, it’s a straight-forward affair, you line up, you move forwards, he signs your stuff, you move on (except if you’re an old lady, but more of that later). I soaked him in in all my manic brain overloaded happiness while waiting for my turn though, and the first thing I noticed was that he isn’t as short as people pretend he is. Yes, he wore some trainers with a thicker sole, but with them he wasn’t that much shorter than I am. Perfect height, for eye-contact, just saying.

Second thing was that he’s in the shape of his life, dear Lord! I always read him as wiry, which can look buff on screen, but no, he’s genuinely, proper buff. Those are some serious arms and just generally he’s wider than I would have expected. Other than that, he looks pretty much exactly like he does on screen. Some actors don’t, they’re either plainer or prettier (Anne-Marie Duff, she really was fucked over by some cruel form of unphotogenicness) in fact, the second night I went there I saw Sam Yates (he shook my hand :D) and he does not look like he does in pics for example. Andrew does. He has a fascinating and alive face and looks just like he did in that Vanity Fair video, except without the orange goo.

The first night I saw Simon Stephens coming out the stage door too and I literally hopped over to him, beaming like a loon. He and the people he was with were SO nice and so helpful, he signed my version of Vanya (the German edition) and I could actually voice my thoughts (which I couldn’t with Andrew) and tell him how much his interviews have helped me through the lockdowns and how I admire his writing, bla bla bla.

Anyway, I made him laugh, he shook my hand and said “it was a pleasure meeting you [widge’s real name]” in which moment my jaw literally did that looney tunes thing and dropped to my chest. Night was MADE, you don’t understand how much!

[Here I cut out a large chunk of extra thoughts to allow myself to post this in the tags]

Anyway, back to the old lady, she was the one who made Andrew laugh during the signing (LOVE that laugh), I passed her on the way back to the train and had to talk to her. She was a proper lady, dressed elegantly and she was the first damn person outside the theatre who understood my need to DISCUSS the play! Everyone else in the line was talking about other things, I had to PROCESS what had happened. She and her assistant were so cool, and she said she’d absolutely loved it and had a ton of other well thought through opinions on it. Big fan of her, no idea what her name is, but we all should get some cool older ladies to talk about theatre with, when our brains are buzzing with so many new impressions!

I aimlessly wandered on over the Thames after that, sat down in some red paint on the way, which made my jeans look interesting for the rest of the trip and had to just move for a while to cool down. I did go to the queue the next day too, just to be a little less tongue tied around Andrew (it did not work, whatsoever xD), but that was the day Joe Alwyn and a fox made an appearance, so it was totally worth it. As was the whole international camaraderie in the queue. Honestly, I’ve missed that, just people being excited about something together, I got hugged by a tiny Indian (?) girl and a Russian lady, all because we’re a bunch of excited nerds outside of theatre. It felt fucking great.

[orionsangel86]

A bit of a moan under the cut...

It's funny to be in this position where I follow a ton of SPN blogs, and a ton of Good Omens blogs, and so I get a lot of interesting hot takes across my dash.

It's fine for people to be critical, but I do find criticism of GO from SPN fans kinda hilarious and hypocritical.

"the writing was like bad fanfiction"

You did actually watch Supernatural yes? Even season 4 had its terrible fanfiction moments *cue trauma memory of Sam Winchester explaining "w*ncest" to his brother and shudder*

"There was no plot at all and it was all pointless."

Hmmm... reminds me of seasons 12, 13, and 14 of SPN

"The relationship reveal at the end was so stupid and clearly a crack ship from tumblr"

Yeah I was also really surprised when Dean and Crowley hooked up in Season 10.

"Neil Gaiman was clearly bullied into making them canon by tumblr, he absolutely hated fans asking if Crowley and Aziraphale were gay and in love back before the first season came out"

And? Why is him changing his mind (if thats what happened) a bad thing? What exactly do you think was happening behind the scenes at Supernatural regarding Destiel?

"Even if Neil Gaiman DID change his mind and decide to make it romantic, its still disingenuous and he's lying to you about what he planned with Terry Pratchett"

Sure. He could be. Funny how sometimes at some point people may see the light regarding their characters and realise that the story works better if they are together - at least Neil Gaiman was able to follow through, unlike Bobo Berens and Andrew Dabb who had their vision shat on by the CW.

Maybe he is exaggerating about what exactly he and Terry plotted out. He's protective of Terry's memory but clearly also painfully aware of how rabid the fans are and has gone a bit overboard in reassuring them. How many lies have you been told by the creators of SPN? How many times have Jackles and Mollins lied to you? Queerbaited you? Mocked you? Have you ever heard of a little thing called growth?

If you are gonna be critical about GO and Neil Gaiman, by all means go ahead. But DO NOT then sit there in the same breath and say SPN was better, that SPN had your back, or sing SPNs praises in any way.

Both shows have good and bad moments. Both sets of creators have lied at times, and tried to do whats best for their fans at times. Both shows are filled to the fucking brim with fanservice - at least GO didn't mock and ridicule its fans by either portraying them all as sad loser men, obsessive stalkers, or teenage girls who are a bit too obsessed with the sappier moments to be taken seriously. The fandom inserts in GO were older, wiser, calmer, and rather badass lesbians actually. I thought that was pretty neat.

I'm not even a huge Neil Gaiman stan, find most of his asks cringe (and often wonder if he picks out the cringier ones specifically to toy with and mock the fandom) and def find some of his explanations surrounding the origins of the GO sequel contradictory and nonsensical. Whilst he is a great fantasy writer, he isn't the best at screenwriting imo. He is also rubbish at comedy and needs support on that always. It is very clear to me that he has absorbed some of the tumblr mentality in his later years, as this is apparant to me in both GO and the Sandman, and yet, as someone who rather loves the tumblr mentality, I'm all for it. I think he is maybe trying a bit TOO hard to appeal to the tumblr specific queer community which can be alienating for wider audiences (i say this as someone who considers herself very much part of the tumblr specific queer community), and I do sometimes wonder if there is something a little bit disengenuous on his side about that, because, well, how much can an older cishet white man ever really understand the overly millennial/Gen Z queer majority AFAB leaning tumblr space? I do think some people have really got to crawl out of Neil Gaiman's ass because he is not your God. He is just a guy.

But I also think a lot of the hate thrown his way is unnecessary. A lot of people's gripes about him seem to be complaints that he is too wrapped up in tumblr culture. Which is an ironic criticism to come from tumblr users. If you hated GOS2 that's totally fine. But if you hated it and then proudly proclaim that "Supernatural did it first" "Supernatural did it better" or just "Supernatural was the best and Good Omens will never be Supernatural". Please, for the love of God, shut the fuck up. Supernatural was heavily influenced BY Good Omens, and the Sandman. Supernatural was so braizen in its stealing ideas from GO and the Sandman that it even stole one of the main characters NAMES.

As a long time SPN fan, any SPN fans ever claiming Neil Gaiman stole ideas from SPN is a fucking embarassment to the rest of the SPN fandom. By all means criticise Gaiman's work to your hearts content, but at least criticise it correctly and leave the hypocrisy at the door.

[alanshee-keeper-of-realms]

Hey, OP! It's been five years since you've made the post, but is the offer to learning Ninjago Fandom Lore still open? You were there when the ancient scripture was written, you are a relic and lorekeeper of the past, and I am sitting criss-cross apple sauce and willing to hear ye olden tales. That is to say, I watched the show before s3 was even a concept, up until s5 started where I dropped it due to a combination of reasons, but I never forgot how I did want to watch it. And now over a decade later I learn this silly lego show of my childhood had a FANDOM, and I have missed all the moments with the community. Which seems very entwined with fan-show creator interactions to the point they throw OCS into their works and have fans send voice requests to sing the theme song and put it into the show finale. It's like the fandom is that child whose birthday you missed through being totally absentee. A shame :') this is my Pokemon, it's to us what Pokemon is to 90s kids. A show you could've been there since the Pilots and most of everyone is in your age range.

Of course I will always be up to speaking on the lore of the Ninjago Fandom!

Now for the newer anti groups this is your warning. We were the Wild West Kids so we did a lot of stuff that the Modern fandom would be ick about.

I guess that can be the first lore, the OG fandom had crackshipping everywhere, but some of these actually became a thing. One of the original now controversial ships that road a popularity wave alongside Jaya and, yes, Colya, was Greenflame.

Garsako was lovingly taken care of LadyMarissaGarmadon like they absolutely were crazy for it.

I was hiding in the corner with Zaya or Snow Phoenix as I called it

Bruisehipping was huge there was an artist called Blakkycat who was in the Tumblr side known for their Bruishipping Art I actually adopted their OC Chua, more lore

Serpentine Babies EVERYWHERE like everyone had a Serpentine Oc istg it was awesome Blakkys Bab Chua was one of these but he was popular due to his Shenanigans here's some Art for ya

That's Chua! So yeah I'm his caretaker now since Blakky left years ago. Blakky and I actually came up with a very Popular AU let's see if some of the Olders Remember this

Overlord Nya, and yes she's pulling a Katara and using the water in Blood to control it Blakky and I would talk for hours over this AU and the Fandom loved it just as much for a bit, Blakky created the Art I supplied Ideas.

This was I would say 2013/2014,

Season 3 oh man that was a trip, we actually Mourned Zane like held a funeral its funny now thinking it especially with how many times he's died and come back. We all really thought you know logically he was 100% gone

The Love Triangle thing was rough suddenly the Colya and Jaya fans were at each other's throats....people actually got hurt and friendships badly shattered a bunch of us were horrified like outsiders called us the most toxic fandom at least until Voltron stole that crown and we had Season 6 confirm Jaya. But this is why some wince at these ships

Nindroid Jay oh goodness Prpledragon created him and the Fandom was head over ass with AUs with this version I'm pretty sure you can still find the Comic Prple made partially for the AU

Then season 4 ohhhhhh man

I remember fondly the Tournament of Elements held here on Tumblr, like the whole fandom dozens of artists forming their own Art Tournament in honor of it

Then Zane was brought back and it was like we'd won the game celebrations everywhere lmfao

And the uproar that was Garmadons death

Ahaha I can continue but this is getting long so just let me know if you wish for more. I do indeed hold the texts and I'm more then happy to share

I have been Agent Alanshee, The Guardian Alanshee, The Winged Guardian Alanshee

And then Alanshee Keeper of Realms

For anyone who might recognized me

[pinkseas]

naur but everytime i word vomit into ur inbox i literally cant remember 70% of it than the core details and the ones you answered the next day so it's kinna funny i wish tumblr lets me save my anon asks than eating it up cus i ain't drafting it like ANYWAY TO UR BESTIE THAT MENTIONED US >> I LOVE GOING INSANE WITH ALY PINKSEAS TOO ur friends are so real!!!!!!! youre insane are you single IS SUCH A FUNNY ASS LINE I WISH I WAS HIT BY IT AND I'D SAY YEA WHAT ABOUT IT

"twitter scares me so bad" as you should it's a shithole for genshin altogether with discourse and mischaracterization and you'd literally cannot stop seeing any of them once you get genshin in ur algorithm and yknow what i realized my only Best fandom experience came from tumblr with undertale Despite its discourses bc its got effective filters and the people are genuinely Good so now i'm thinking of yeeting outta twt and spectating my way here like last time (i am already doing it)

"if i read soulmates it has to be done Right [...] they can’t depend on one another they cant need one another they have to Want. they have to Choose" LIKE NO YEAH THIS IS SO TRUE SO REAL THIS IS WHAT BUGS ME ON SOULMATE AUS when it's almost not by choice and they have to work on accepting it like they're forced into needing it's like,.. a very complicated method here in changing their minds toward the other person Because of the cursed bestowed on them- the point of Choice is so fucking important to me especially when it comes to xiao specifically bc in my rendition of his he's unfamiliar with such things for a long time,.. and even in canon he's a lil troubled about deciding things for himself in the presence of higher beings until he's allowed to IT JUST HURTS HE LOST HIS FREE WILL AND THEN UR SOUL BOUND LIKE WHAT (AND FR specific soulmate tropes where the two ARE given the choice for it are. acceptable 2 me)

"lumine handling intensity well and being much better at identifying her emotions suits her SO well imo" yeah like yea!!EVERYTHING ABT THIS and i think it follows up all the traveler's sass in-game bc she's so fuckin hilarious for delivering lines super well despite having Less lines cus aside paimon taking over the talking she does have her moments and i lov her for it I DO WISH THEY HAVE HER TALK MORE EVEN WITH THE USUAL TEXT CHOOSING i just want her sick ass lines conversing

FKSDFHJSKDFJ ENDEARING IS SUCH A GODLIKE WORD TO ME I WILL KEEP USING IT FOR XIAO EVER its the way you can use it like. subtlely. a lil hidden a lil not Much about his cuteness without explicitly calling him cute its Big Word for the small boy!!!!

your thoughts on qpr makes me feel so much better abt thinking this way bout r/s like YEAH its all abt communication and open with boundaries and there really is something stifling about established r/s BUT IT'S COMPLETELY FINE FOR THOSE WHO PREFER THAT ANYHOW!!

AND YES SO MUCH ON LUMINE AND XIAO'S SHOW OF ATTRACTION TO EACH OTHER i wudnt even call it attraction i think anything that indicates a romantic tension between them is something i'm not gonna entertain like 'craving' or 'desire' (this word in particular is used very specific) and stuff like that, and it's a big fact that lumine's attachment feels like its the same to everyone Except aether,... even after she discovers his abyss persona she still begs for them to go back home too. it's unbeatable even to xiao, or at least, xiao has a different treatment to kindness for being so Similar to her (breaks down) "i feel like seeing each other constantly would be a detriment i think it’d make them both feel really weird." like RIGHT????? IT JUST FEELS OFF THIS WAY and it's not a good portrayal of xiao's desperation not wanting to lose someone else anymore. but even then, idt he shows that notion much or at all than his self-sacrifice tendencies, which is an entirely different topic. this thing about xiao's attachments and morals is a complicated thing to tackle altogether...;;,,

"no bc i characterize lumine as LOVING nature so bad" and u are absolute fucking RIGHT to think that, and for me she just likes exploring in general and is a bit of a reckless daredevil so long she has her glider and its the only condition. its stupid it's silly BUT IT MAKES SENSE shes just a constant headache to xiao in looking after her testing through the terrain but /pos

"i am So Grateful to you for sharing your thoughts i am so giddy over us being on such similar wavelengths" AND ME TO YOU TOO IT'S BEEN SO GOOD TO JUST SPILL EVERYTHING I HAVE IN MIND and get comfortable even on stuff im shy to reveal on unpublished asks cus ur reactions even if not agreeing there's still some reassurance anyway and i dont mind that or feel rejected at all when 98% others is what we just. have connected brains on KDJFHSDKJFH AND JEEZ I RLLY DO CAN'T HELP MYSELF WHEN THE BRAINWORMS INVADE WHEN I REPLY UR RESPONSES TOO it takes over my fingers like a parasite i gratefully let em

and ouuouh ur interpretation of the two's development starting in inazuma is so sweet and it makes sense bc of how dangerous the region is bc in my silly lil bran it made sense to have it After the chasm since it's the quests centering his arc AND I STILL CANT BELIEVE HE HAS HIS OWN ARCHON INTERLUDE,.. this made me loving all the peeps of the chasm gang too and i wish they did Something after the quest ended like UEUEUE TRAUMA SHARING SESSION FOR PPL WHO ONLY MET FOR 3 DAYS LETS GO

so like i start from sumeru bc of the points bc of this and bc i love slow development So Much im practically immune to slowburn did u know. all those fics do Not affect me even if i reach its 30th chapter of them being reluctant to opening up. ""zhongli encouraging him to take more time to himself, lumine taking him on little trips guiding him out more and more and more often" is THE CONCEPT EVER YOU HAVE ZHONGLI INVOLVED idk if you dig this but parental zhongli has me on the floor so id like to think he's another important figure in xiao's life aside lumine too he's just that warm hand on his back encouraging Out of his comfort zone and obligations and lumine's the hand that pulls him Along to see the new things of the world. like zhongli is such a dad,.... doing dad things a grandpa to liyue but i also cant help but have him having an attachment to xiao knowing they share a life even as a master-subordinate r/s (cus in my interpretation zhongli never felt that way than thinking he just wants xiao to Live, too,.. sobbing crying shitting)

"taking baby steps in leaving that part of his life, never quite letting go but letting the ties that hold him to liyue loosen, never forgetting his contract and his duty but understanding that there’s no longer an obligation to fulfill it, that he does it out of his own wish instead. i just. idk. idk !!!!!! at the core of it i think im obsessed with them learning how to live again and doing it together" i got no words. i ran out of brain fuel but my body is convulsing folding in on itself liek MY LIEGE YOU ARE!!!!! U R SO,........ LIKE OSBFGKJFGHDKJGH YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA this is THE XIAOLUMI AND METHINKS,....... THE XIAO ARC IN ENTIRETY AS WELL CUS I BELIEVE IN HIS INDEPENDENCY (with a little help and support from ppl who cares bout him) i just akjdhaskejjksfhsdfkjhdsjfhkjdsbvadhvbjhkv

using a read more thingy just for the sake of anyone on mobile

NOT REMEMBERING ASKS IS SO REAL i forget what i say so often even when i Can go back and check how the fuck am i supposed to know what ive said when i Can't

MY BESTIE THAT MENTIONED US >>> SO REAL i think its been more than a few at this point actually which is very funny to me. shan if ur reading this i am holding u so close to me in my little arms. youre insane are you single is the best line ever especially when you are Dating The Person Who Says It my response every time is "no but i could be😏" i find myself far too funny its awful

we are Shaking Hands in terms of being on tumblr experiencing the undertale fandom that's so real of us undertale was the reason i got a tumblr in the first place all those years ago... you should ABSOLUTELY spectate here i literally never see anything i don't want to see i live in my perfect little echo chamber it's so <333

"even in canon he's a lil troubled about deciding things for himself in the presence of higher beings until he's allowed to" GODDD YEAH YEAH YEAH YEA H YEAH YEAHY HEA YEAH !!!!!!!!!!!!! do NOT force this boy into situations he does that enough by himself thank you very much

"even after she discovers his abyss persona she still begs for them to go back home" no bc its just. On Another Level Genuinely. they've been traveling together with no one but each other with god knows how long especially depending on personal headcanons, they're used to going through entire worlds and moving on theyre used to not getting super attached !!! its a little different in teyvat i think because theyve lost most of their power and they're trapped and alone for the foreseeable future but. that still doesnt change the past and their habits yknow ?? its something i try REALLY hard not to think about actually because (with the exception of a very specific au which i am currently writing for) unless they're just. trapped on teyvat Forever i CANNOT imagine lumine staying there once she has the ability to leave and i CANNOT imagine xiao ever leaving. it makes me So Sad genuinely i simply refuse to acknowledge its existence

"xiao's attachments and morals is a complicated thing to tackle altogether" SO REAL !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

IM SO GLAD U THINK IM RIGHT ABT THE NATURE LOVING it just feels right tbh and "shes just a constant headache to xiao in looking after her testing through the terrain but /pos" also so real <33333333 lumine and her silly little glider. god. i love them both so bad

i do like to think of the chasm as post-inazuma but thats because in my head w/ their development inazuma is like. The Next Step almost, where they're close enough in liyue but the fact that they continue to be close even once lumine has left really hits. and then they've been a bit closer and become familiar with one another in quite a few ways by the time the chasm happens and then i get super self indulgent with the chasm because i am so silly like that <3333 in terms of slowburn and the way you've described their growing closeness it does make SO much sense to swap it tbh i love the thought of the chasm being like the start of things and the way that'd bring them closer before inazuma and. mfgnmhfnmf god. GOD.

"i wish they did Something after the quest ended" no bc in my little brain they get together once every month or two just to have a meal together and talk and keep up with each other they are Friends Now

"parental zhongli has me on the floor so id like to think he's another important figure in xiao's life aside lumine too he's just that warm hand on his back encouraging Out of his comfort zone and obligations and lumine's the hand that pulls him Along to see the new things of the world" this is the most perfect accurate thing i have read in my entire life for starters i LOVE parental zhongli like. idk not FULL parental not too much but def him being a more parental figure in xiao's life especially compared to other interpretations of their dynamic i just. god. it is So Important to me that zhongli cares for him and looks after him just in those little ways. the warm encouraging hand on his back vs the hand pulling him along is PERFECT thats such a fucking amazing way of putting it i love everything abotu that the image is so clear in my head

o(-(

^^^ me dead on the floor thinking about zhongli and lumine being such important figures in xiao's life... i like to think that a Lot of the characters in liyue are important to him in different, small little ways i just don't know their characters well enough to fully describe how but like. idk baizhu qiqi yanfei ganyu yknow ?? i know next to nothing about yanfei but i might have to try and write her for this honestly we'll see how it goes but i REALLY want there to be at least one character other than the few i have now who he ends up talking to even if its just smth rly simple... if nothing else the chasm crew is getting an honorable mention on god

idk i just. xiao has done so much for liyue for so long i really love to think of those very few who know him trying to do little supporting things for him, too it's so important to me

okay and now !!!

i am also gonna answer the Other Ask but without publishing it naturally it will simply live comfy cozy in my inbox <333

THAT ONE SHIP "it mischaracterizes Both characters in the pair altogether for the sake of romance" you're so real for this idk i dont MIND seeing it but it has never felt in character to me and i feel like this describes exactly why ?? idk maybe its just the xiaolumi brainworms eating away at me but like. i Get It

what you said about like. your personal hcs for him in regards to that trauma and how he processes it that is SO fucking valid, i def understand getting anxious about certain self-indulgent hcs im the same way both with the sillier ones and heavier ones but i can promise you that if nothing else i will Never judge you for even the most self indulgent ridiculous shit EVER. like the way you described it all is so valid and so easy to picture and a really good way to interpret/believe he'd deal with everything but even if you were to have the most ooc headcanon or anything ever just for fun just for the sake of it i simply would never judge having fun is the Most Important with these things im so srs

we have diff interpretations of how he'd deal with things like the yaksha's deaths and zhongli dying but i think a lot of the points we both have are still pretty similar, ESPECIALLY with him not knowing how to handle it and ESPECIALLY especially with the shock factor. the way i write him or would write his reaction to that would definitely be him just sort of Shutting Down emotionally because its too much and too overwhelming and so he kicks into like. i cant call it work mode its not really a job. but he fully focuses on fighting and finding out who couldve killed rex lapis and like. he turns his attention to things that are familiar and easier to deal with and he buries himself in them the way one would bury themselves in their work to ignore emotions yknow? and then there'd be the shock factor of "oh he Is alive" and then there's this massive pit of grief with nowhere to go because logically, reasonably, rex lapis is alive, there's nothing left to grieve. he shouldn't still be upset <- man who refuses to let himself process and feel his emotions when the emotions dont stop existing just bc he ignores them

that being said that's definitely a Pattern With Me Specifically like in the barbara fic ive been working its built off of canon but i take it SO far just bc i can :sob: and i enjoy it way too much to want to Not do that yknow? girls who struggle to process and Actually Feel their emotions writing characters strugglign to process and Actually Feel their emotions so that she can process and feel them vicariously through them <3 or something along those lines idk at this point its less that and more "wow this is really fun to write and its smth im familiar with so its easier to write as well"

my cat meowed and i stepped away for like 2 seconds to pet her and immediately lost every train of thought ive ever had in my life hopefully i wasnt gonna say anything else LMAO but no yeah self indulgent hcs and ways of interpreting characters >>>>>>>

i keep reading and rereading the way you described xiao's response to grief i am OBSESSED its so easy to imagine its so easy to see like oh my god. ohhhh my god. based as hell it suits him so well

i cannot think of anythign else to say back to the trenches i go <- finding scenes where i started in the middle or left out the endings and filling those parts in now that i dont know what else to write. its been really nice actually ive gotten a lot done just with that LMAO

[4windstradeco]

For WILL

A secret of love

A secret hope

A secret dream

A secret you hold OVER someone

[The Gnomish camera zooms in on Will’s tanned cheek as he holds a towel against him. Slipping into an ice bath as he shivers. The freezing water hissing in contact with his skin, runes glowing as he groans in relief]

“Let’s see. . . First to answer: I can do my hopes and dreams in one.” He said matter of factly, “I grew up without parents see, and boralus isn’t exactly the best place for an orphan kid - and the Stormwind orphanage isn’t exaclty fine with teenagers crashing in their building. Call me dumb but I grew up wanting to be a proper parent- so they- my kids didn’t end up like me. Now I got 4 kids with 4 different women.” He sighed. “But. . . My hopes and dream is to fix that. I - haven’t. . . Been the best father. I know throwing gold to their mothers or care taker isn’t exactly a proper parent but- I haven’t taken the ritual of balance. I don’t want to go feral in front of them.” He sighed rubbing his temples. “My oldest. Vim, yeah. Vim I called him. He was scared- I killed some forsaken in front of him. I. . . I was like a monster in his story books. . No father wants that. I just. “ his head momentarily dips in the ice bath, bubbles forming as despite being underwater- his frustrated scream can be heard. Head emerging moments later. “I just hope to see my kid. . Kids again. And I dream that I can properly help them grow. So they don’t end up like me.”

“I think. . . Yeah I think it’s best if I do this properly. But a secret I hold over someone. I hold a lot over a lot of people. Some darker than others but. I suppose I owe an explanation why the of the three remaining original four winds members. The fourth wind being dead- we’ll talk about dearest Thyenna.” He says simply. Reaching behind him as he lit a joint. Looked at hit. Face souring, and sighing as he put it back on its plate. Instead, choosing to take a handful of a four winds stable, Gummy Furbolgs. “She used to be a Fel addict. Joined kaelthas in outlands blah blah. A Royal bitch of a blood knight was it? Went through a process to become a Paladin. Tried to sleep with Drii but failed and one of her friends did instead: FUCKING FUNNY. Heh. Ok. Besides the point besides the point. So. We were drunk one night- no we didn’t fuck. She’s castrate me of crush my balls with a hammer of righteousness.” His grin is there, knowing and smug. “She has a trampstamp reading Four Winds Sailing Slut.” He barks out laughter. “And and- oh sweet baby titan. It gets better- it gets fucking better. She was so down bad for Drii did you know stuck up, Royal bitch, Thyenna. Wore a pretty birthday crown and and two stickers with the The symbol of Shattarah. And a purple thong. And gave my mate a lap dance?? I would kill for- she thinks no one knows. But ha! I just wish I had photos.” He snorts and begins cracking up.

He does go silent as he reads the last question, scratching the back of his head in contemplation. “Fuck. That’s- fuck that’s cruel. First you say: For WILL, I can practically read how angry it is you know.” He grumbled, splashing some cold water on his face- dark skin tinging a hue darker as he blushed in thought. “Mmmmh fuck. Ok. I’m not a frat!” He shouted to himself. “I stand on my thought on love- it should be passionate, burning, driving one mad. Communication- it’s a partnership. Let me love you, telll me how, lift me up, hold me down. Love changes, but it grows. It’s- “ he growls for a moment. Frustration seeming to build in him. “There’s someone who drives me crazy. No names cause it’s not my move to say it- when it’s kind of a poorly kept secret regardless. It’s not your shape, not your size, not your curves, not your thighs, not your lips, not your eyes. . . It’s your soul and everything inside. I- I’m not trying to pressure you, I just can’t keep thinking about you. Like- that drives me crazy, and it’s almost as painful as this stupid affliction because of it!” He leans his head back, staring at the ceiling in anger, confusion, and just to cement himself as a mess in his thoughts he pops the top off a bottle and takes a swig. “God she’s probably tired of my shit. . . Sorry jiro. . .” He blinks, a slip of his tongue yet he quickly raises himself to stand, not caring if he exposed himself to the camera- he threw the bottle. Rune on his bodies glowing as with the throwing motions, an axe pulls itself out with the motion as he hurls it as well.

[The sound of glass crashing and the axe hitting the screen causes the video to end- black screen and static]

[crows-home]

Nobody asked but here are my thoughts about Infinite and the president’s sonadow fanclub because i haven’t stopped thinking about it for WEEKS and if I don’t get it out there I will implode.

More of a lighthearted, crack treated seriously type of thing.

So if we’re sticking with the main Sonic Forces timeline, i think that the jackal squad didn’t die or anything. They just got real beat up by Shadow and fired by Eggman as a result. the loss stings everyone’s pride, but none more than infinite.

He sees his team sulking for days and thinks “how can i embarrass Shadow the same way?” and Sonic is doing the whole Twitter Takeover with Eggman and Shadow and he’s like. Oh yeah. I’m gonna embarrass you all in front of so many people.

So the whole “a file called Sonadow.” thing plays out and it’s funny!! Infinite spent a few days searching for sonadow fanart and fanfiction around the web and compiled a folder and sends it to Eggman live. (and it’s surprisingly hard to find any sonadow content. apparantly its a rare thing.) He and his crew get a laugh out of it.

And then:

It’s like one of those things where you start doing something ironically. saying a phrase or doing a mannerism in the day as a joke. He’ll see a pepsi can and a coca cola can together and laugh and point and say “haha. sonadow.” and his crew will laugh too. He’ll find fanart and tag Shadow in it to annoy him.

Then I think this leads down a pipeline to him actually reading fanfiction and theories. “For fun,” he says.

“Look at this,” he says to Vanish, gesturing to his tablet screen. They’ve just collected a bounty in a snowy mountain and are taking a rest in their tent.

Vanish squints and reads over his shoulder. “What...”

“There’s a small community of people that genuinely believe Sonic and Shadow have a secret relationship and go out on cheesy dates.”

Vanish laughs in disbelief. “That’s crazy.”

Infinite nods, absently rubbing his knee because the cold makes his joint ache. “I know. I mean, if they were actually in a relationship they wouldn’t meet at a restaurant for a date. Obviously. These people don’t know anything.”

Vanish stares at him for a moment, but Infinite has continued scrolling.

“Whatever you say, boss...”

Anyway. Time passes and it’s. Not a joke anymore.

the more he reads, the deeper he gets, until one day he’s fully onboard like. “Woah, hang on. This actually makes a lot of sense. Are they really together? They have to be!”

I like to think he saw fics and art and scoffed like. “The characterization is so off.” and “He would never say that.” and “I bet I could do better.” so he starts creating his own stuff and putting it online. maybe he started with crack fics and his team just smiled awkwardly when anything was brought up because. well, Infinite is still a damn good leader and his hobbies aren’t really hurting anyone.

but infinite is really miffed because no one will take him seriously!! like, his crew is not as invested in this as he is and whenever he gets a good conversation going with someone online, they either move on from “sonadow” really quickly or they have a different view on their relationship than he does.

until he’s browsing forums and notices a single user that has been posting continuously since like. almost 2001???

so he hits up the user “Sonadowfan1″ and they talk EXTENSIVELY and holy shit. It’s like he and this person are on the same wavelength. this person GETS IT.

Sonadowfan1: I’ve believed in their relationship almost since day 1

User69420: Wow, you were there since the beginning?

Sonadwofan1: I was. And let me tell you, the way they worked together, the way their chemistry works, I have never met another pair of beings so closely intertwined. But they love to dance around each other.

User69420: Exactly! Did you see the clips of their time at the Olympics?

Sonadowfan1: I was there in the audience! It was quite something to see in person.

So Infinite has a new internet friend that he can share his ideas with. Sonadowfan1 recommends fanfiction and sends their favorite clips and they have some damn good taste since they’ve been around for a while.

Meanwhile Infinite’s crew is just happy he’s not coming to them every time he needs to vent his frustrations. They hear his phone ding and see him grinning a minute later, typing away like a kid.

Months pass and he and Sonadowfan1 decide to meet up. It’s the middle of the night, and Infinite is hesitant. But Sonadowfan1 insists that it’s the only time that he’s able to step away from his job. But he makes Infinite agree to come alone.

User69420: Why? What are you playing at?

Sonadowfan1: I have a very recognizable face. I trust that you won’t reveal my identity, but only you.

Infinite frowns. It’s a dumb statement, really. Infinite thinks he would sell this guy’s information for a price in a heartbeat. But, whatever gets him the meeting with the only other person that believes in this as much as he does- maybe even more.

“Should we...?”

Eclipse points to Infinite, who is getting ready to head out and meet with his online friend.

Rumble blinks. “You want me to stop him? He can handle himself. Let him get this out of his system or enjoy himself. At least it’s not affecting his work.”

And just. Long story short that’s how Infinite comes face to face with the fucking President of the United States. They agree to have monthly meetings. The pres shows Infinite his own Sonadow files and the picture he keeps on his desk. They go over their interactions and break them down, frame by frame.

[pocfansmatter]

I know I'm pretty new to 911 & buddie but I've been enjoying the ship in silence for a couple months & I have a question...

Why in the fanfics & headcanons does the fandom insist that Buck is loud & open but Eddie is the one who fails to express his feelings?

I can see where you get confused, Eddie is catholic (to an extent), was in the military, has a panic attack over a new relationship that results in a doctor calling him "repressed". All those surface level point to a man who is terrible at expressing himself I get it.

But I wanna talk about Buck & Eddie here & how canon shows us this isn't TRUE.

Buck may be loud in his love but only with other people who aren't Eddie.

Like with his sister, when he first starts his friendship with Eddie he goes on & on about what a great father he is & how he needs some help. She even calls it a crush before giving him advice. He doesn't talk about this moment with Eddie of course.

Then we have off screen to think about. Where he calls Carla to ask for help on Eddie's behalf. Because we KNOW the conversation was probably similar to the one he had with Maddie. Where he rants & raves about how great Eddie is as a father & how adorable Chris is before explaining that they need a little help. Carla, well she probably thinks about the time Abby's mom went missing & Buck rushed over to help find her even when him & Abby hadn't even MET yet because that's what he does for people he loves. He tries to fix the problems for them & Carla probably gets it. Understands before Buck might even that he loves Eddie & doesn't hesitate to meet with this mystery person with the amazing son.

If you think Eddie is quiet you are mistaken, he is private. Also he can express his feelings very well you just may not be able to translate them yet.

Because Eddie doesn't say things in a way people can always understand but if you do than you can hear Eddie screaming his love for Buck & you wouldn't call him quiet.

Eddie "you can have my back anyday" Diaz isn't quiet.

After the tsunami he looked Buck in the eye with his hand on his shoulder & thumb on his pulse & said clear as day "Buck, there's nobody in this world I trust with my son more than you." Thats pretty freaking straightforward if you ask me.

Lets go to the well now. Where as soon as that dirt fell with Eddie under it Buck screamed & sobbed & yelled & tried to dig Eddie out with his bare hands in front of an audience of strangers some other firefighters & some not. And no one probably told Eddie how insane Buck went with grief. They probably never talked about it once he got out because under the water Eddie was passing out & Buck's voice was the first one he heard when things started to go black. But then Eddie swam out & the first thing he did was go to his lawyer about changing his will.

Then we have the lawsuit & the grocery store argument. Where Buck is stumbling & stuttering & failing to make his team understand, to make Eddie understand his point of view because Buck isn't actually SAYING anything. Then we have Eddie. Eddie who is PISSED Eddie who calls Buck exhausting & says how much he wishes he can talk to Buck & how much Chris MISSES Buck & yeah it hurts like hell to hear but at least Eddie is SAYING something when Buck isn't saying much of anything.

Then we go to the make up. Where Buck is quick to make a joke about ghosting & Halloween because he fails at communicating well and Eddie doesn't laugh because nothing about this has been funny to him. Then Buck gets serious & begs Eddie to talk to him even if its to yell & say he's still angry like he did in the grocery store. Because Buck knows anything is better than this silence because Eddie normally isn't this silent, not with him, not with Buck anyway. Then they are okay again or at least on their way.

Don't get me wrong though Buck still fails at interpreting Eddie speak too, even if he's the expert. Like in that kitchen scene (you know the one) where Buck admits his failure to see Eddie was in pain & needed help. He even says he understands that Eddie probably wanted to beat the crap out of him & Eddie laughs it off like "I wouldn't do that... you're on blood thinners" & Buck doesn't fully grasp that's Eddie speak for "I would never hit you no matter how pissed you make me." It doesn't matter though because their son is in the living room waiting for a round of video games so they just fall back into their routine.

Then we get to the shooting. There's so much blood, so much so that Eddie gets confused & asks if Buck is hurt because he thinks he may have been shot too & that would probably kill Eddie before the bullet does.

Then we have Buck being asked if he's okay by a fellow firefighter & him answering an honest "no", then he's shaking in front of Taylor, & breaking down crying in front of Chris & all these people GET it. Get how much Buck loves Eddie but Eddie doesn't SEE these moments does he? He may get a second retelling by his son but by then Buck already mentioned the crying & its been downplayed & washed of any romantic subtext. And Buck says how he should have gotten shot instead of Eddie & you can SEE the tears forming in Eddie's eyes because how can Buck casually say such a heartbreaking thing like that? Doesn't he GET it? How much he means to Eddie? Hasn't he HEARD Eddie over the years? Then Eddie realizes once again that even Buck isn't an absolute expert on Eddie speak yet so he doesn't know giving him his son to watch & love is the equivalent to Eddie ripping out his own heart & saying "here its yours." Or that "you can have my back" isn't a proper way to ask someone out. Or that "Chris misses you" doesn't exactly translate into "I miss you" automatically.

Then they talk & Eddie says that Buck is legally in charge of his child in the result of his death because Buck is important & loved & not expendable like he thought because how could he have ever thought that? And Eddie did this a year ago right after he almost died & the first voice his heard in his head was Buck's & its crazy to me that you guys say Buck is louder in his love & better at communicating when Eddie is out here getting legal documents filed out signed with Evan Buckley on them without hesitation.

Maybe you guys just aren't an expert at Eddie speak yet.

[onecanonlife]

Tommy is dead. The server reacts.

(word count: 1,732)

---------------

“What have you done?”

His voice is a reedy whisper, thin with horror and the realization that he is too little, too late. He doesn’t expect the sound to carry over the lava, but a response comes soon enough.

“He wouldn’t stop talking. And he killed the cat.”

Dream’s voice is even, calm, almost a bit defensive, as if he truly believes that he is justified in his actions. Sam swallows down his mounting nausea, places his trident against the floor to steady himself. The lava crackles, hisses, bubbles, orange and glowing, and he can’t cross it. Not now. Not when the security threat remains unresolved. Not when any wrong move on his part could very well mean Dream’s escape.

But he’s already made the wrong move, hasn’t he? Made the wrong move, and Tommy has paid for it. Has been paying for it, this whole last week. He kept him in there, kept him locked in a box with Dream even though he knows very well how it would effect him, kept him locked in with the reasoning that it was temporary, that he would let him out as soon as he could, that he couldn’t risk Dream’s release for anyone, even for Tommy.

But it’s not temporary.

Tommy was sixteen and loud-mouthed and bright-eyed when Sam last saw him, when he said that this would be the last time, that he was going to put his past behind him and look to a new start. Tommy will always be sixteen and loud-mouthed and bright-eyed, and locked in a box. There will be no new start. No seventeenth birthday. No triumphant return, no shining hotel. No tricks, no scams, no pranks.

Tommy was sixteen and loud-mouthed and bright-eyed. Tommy is dead.

He can’t even get his body.

He can’t even get his body.

Sam stands on the edge of a curtain of lava, staring into the orange glow that hides a monster in a room that is now a child’s pre-made coffin, and he wonders if he is a monster himself.

***

“He’s fine.”

It’s the only thing to say. The only truth. The only possibility. Sure, the message is there, glaring up from his communicator in bright yellow letters, but it’s not real. It’s a joke of some kind, a trick. Something to fake everyone out. Maybe Sam’s in on it, too. Tommy must be going crazy in there, to think that this would actually be funny, but it sounds like something he would do.

“Tubbo,” Ranboo says, and then stops. Nothing else. His face is pale, though things like that are hard to tell, with him, considering that half his face is always pale. But he’s gone an ashy-grey sort of color, and it doesn’t look great.

“He’s not dead,” he says, and laughs a bit. “Tommy wouldn’t just die like that. That’d be ridiculous.”

Tommy’s death would never be so meek. Tommy’s death, when it happens, will be a spectacle, a dramatic showing with speeches and explosions and the sun rising at just the right time and haloing his hair, because TommyInnit deserves nothing less than the best death scene. Women wailing and the like. So Tommy is not dead, because if Tommy were dead, that would mean that he died alone, in the company of no one but his murderer, that he died scared, trapped in a small space with no way out, that he died without Tubbo by his side.

“Right,” Ranboo says, and his voice is doing a peculiar thing that Tubbo can’t quite work out. “Yeah, of course. Do you wanna—do you think we should go check it out? Go stop by the prison?”

“What for?” he asks. “Sam’s not going to let us in. He didn’t even when I built a dick on top of it.”

And here is another thing: Tommy can’t be dead because it was never supposed to be Tommy first. Tubbo has tried to live without him, and he found it very hard. So Tommy is not allowed to die before Tubbo does. That is the rule that he keeps locked up in his heart, because Tommy would be upset if he knew about it. But it’s a rule that Tubbo intends to follow, so Tommy can’t be dead.

That would be against the rules.

“Just to see?” Ranboo tries. Tubbo’s not sure why he’s being so insistent about this.

“Nah, we’ve got a hotel to build,” he says. “C’mon.”

Ranboo follows along behind him. His feet drag, like he’s reluctant. But Tubbo has long since given up on understanding why Ranboo does the things that he does.

***

He’s dead.

She should be glad about it. This is what she wanted. Tommy dead, punished for all the pain and suffering he’s caused everyone else. No longer able to start wars, to cause harm, to blaze his way through the server and leave a path of destruction in his wake.

Tommy is dead. She should be glad about it. She is glad about it. She’s even smiling.

There is a message from Jack. She doesn’t check it.

Tommy is dead, that blue-eyed, wide-grinned boy who followed along on his brother’s coattails. Tommy is dead, that fiery spirit crushed and his overbearing, fast-talking voice silent. Tommy is dead, that loyal friend, the protector and defender of all that he called his, the fighter, the scammer, the boy who loved with all of his heart and then some.

Tommy is dead. Dead, dead, dead. There is no coming back from dead. Dead is final. Dead is an ending. Dead means it’s all over. Tommy is over. Tommy is gone. Tommy will never grow old.

It’s what she wanted. She should be glad about it. She is glad about it. She’s even smiling.

Niki brings her hand to her mouth to check. It’s a smile. A smile, for sure.

Her fingers come away from her face wet.

***

It was an empty castle already, but it feels emptier now. The different between a possibility and its lack, they suppose.

Tommy was never supposed to die. They can’t fathom it, somehow. Can’t fathom that it’s real, that Tommy will never grace these halls again. They’d finally begun to fix things, begun to work toward redemption, well and truly. And now Tommy is gone.

Eret grips their communicator tightly in their hand.

“I’m sorry,” they murmur to no one at all.

It was never meant to be echoes in their head, over and over and over again, an apology that means nothing but so much scattered dust.

***

He closes his eyes. Breathes. In and out.

This happens. People die. They die, and they leave, and he’s left behind. That’s his life. That’s how it is.

It still hurts, when it happens. He’s still learning how to make it not hurt. Still learning how not to be angry, that people find it so easy to abandon him. That people find it so easy to go where he can’t follow. Wilbur first, now Tommy, and he doesn’t have anyone left, really.

But it’s fine. It’s alright. He can manage on his own. He always has.

Fundy decides to go to bed early.

***

He takes a moment to breathe. To process. To absorb.

To regret, for what might have been.

The voices in his head call for blood, as they always do, but he will not give them the satisfaction. Not this time. The blood he wants most is not readily accessible, and he will not put himself in the position of confronting the favor owed. Not now. Not like this. Not ever, if he can help it, though he knows that these sorts of things always take their due, always steal their pound of flesh.

“I know, chat,” he says. “You can all shut up, I know.”

It doesn’t appease them. He wasn’t expecting it to.

Tommy is dead. Tommy is dead, and their relationship with it. Any tentative attempts toward repairs have been left to rot, to burn on the funeral pyre. Theseus, fallen from the cliff at long last.

The story was always going to end this way. No one can stop the Fates from severing the string.

He stands with a groan. He is not built for this weather, for this cold, and it is a wonder that he keeps being drawn to it, time and time again. It is a balm, he thinks, but for what, he doesn’t know. For nothing, at the moment, as the voices threaten to crowd out all the rest. But he can’t deal with them right now.

Phil has his own house, now, and a bridge to connect the two. A bridge over still water, such that Tommy will never cross. He should not feel the way he does. Tommy betrayed him. Tommy used him. Tommy discarded him, so he tossed him aside in turn.

But once they were called brothers. Does it mean anything, in the end?

Phil is standing in the middle of the floor, ruined wings on full display. His face is blank, his communicator held loosely in one hand.

“Phil,” he says.

“I failed him,” Phil says. “I should’ve been there for him, and I wasn’t.”

Technoblade has no comfort for the truth.

But he has comfort for his friend, for his friend who is perhaps his father but is definitely family, so he stretches out his arms and catches Phil as he falls, falls and falls and screams, and it is good, he thinks, that the wings are already ruined, because Daedalus tried to catch his son and failed. It is good, he thinks, that the wings are already ruined, so he cannot try again and ruin the rest of himself, too.

***

He nudges the body with his foot.

“You shouldn’t have killed that cat,” he murmurs. The body does not reply, and he sighs.

Tommy’s face is beyond recognition. The blood coats his knuckles. He hopes that there’s enough water in the sink to wash it out before it sets. He hates it when the blood sets.

He didn’t mean to go as far as he did. That doesn’t mean much, in the end. This will work just as well.

He is a god, after all. He is a god, and he will have what he deserves, and more besides.

“Don’t worry, Tommy,” he says. “I’ll make a believer out of you yet.”

[littlemisslipbalm]

“it’s not that important”

Summary: Y/N is in Harry’s band and one night they have a drunken hook up. One thing leads to another and they find themselves engaging in a friend’s with benefits type of situation. spoiler: it is important

AKA: A friends with benefits to lovers story :) with some angst in there

This is for @stylesharrys fallinharry10k celebration so my trope is friends with benefits! prompt is “you have no goddamn idea what you do to me. when i’m around you, i have no control of my emotions or my thoughts” and the tenth picture ^ i kinda just used it in the beginning to descripe what he was wearing - i got really carried away with this story but the prompt is in there !! lol, not proofread tho but would love your feedback !!!! :) love y’all very much 

oh boy i’ve had this done for agesss but i hadn’t written the smut until today so now we’re here i dont even remember what happens - i vaguely remember not loving the end but I hope yall enjoy

Word Count: 15.4k (longest fic to date) | Warnings: smut, angst, fluff, alcohol consumption? i dont remember but i dont think theres anything too heavy in here.

-

“Hey Harold!” You smile as you easily hop over the side of the couch and settle beside your bandmate.

Harry groans, yet can’t keep the small smile off of his face when he sees it’s you. “How many times have I told you to never call me that?”

Your eyes narrow at his faux glare. “And how many times have I told you, I simply do not care?” 

You reach a hand out and tousle his already disheveled, unstyled brown hair. Despite his lack of styling, his hair still looked perfect. His chestnut hair fell into a middle part when he did nothing to it and you found it endearing. It made him look far younger than he truly was, like a boy you might have pursued when you were in your early days at college. The waves slightly framed his prominent cheekbones and chiseled jaw that was sporting a tiny amount of stubble.

He moves his arm from around the back of the couch to pat at his hair, trying to put it back in its nondescript position you had just messed with. After he’s satisfied, he uses the same hand to push up his glasses on the bridge of his nose. They’re chestnut brown Gucci frames that match the natural highlights in his hair. You can safely assume that’s why he bought them. The lenses are clear, but you know they don’t hold any prescription. He looks incredulously at you from behind them still.

“Nice glasses,” you mention offhandedly as you reach out to the coffee table to grab the drink you had left there earlier.

Before Harry had arrived, you had been taking up residence on the couch, in the spot he had actually taken up. You had ventured to the restroom for a moment and gotten held up in a conversation when asked your preference for the Beatles. Having to defend your staunch stance for the Beatles and against the Rolling Stones, you had gotten swept up into an argument with Adam. He believed that because the Rolling Stones toured for longer warranted them the title of best rock band. While you countered that despite their long touring and production of music, the Stones had a rotation of members. The Beatles maintained the four of them and held such a large impact even though they were barely together for a decade. They were one of a kind, or at least the first of their kind, you’d allow. You weren’t really in the mood for intellectual conversation tonight, so upon seeing Harry taking up your seat, you had told Adam you’d continue the discussion at a later date and returned to your spot.  

“Thanks,” Harry mumbles as his gaze flits around the room. He wasn’t sure if you were actually complimenting him, but he would take it as one either way.

The rest of your friends are all up and about, drinking, talking, dancing. It was the usual house party scene: a relatively intimate gathering, music you all actually liked, some friends of friends feeling slightly out of place. There was no pressure in this type of gathering but still Harry wasn’t necessarily in the party mood tonight. Usually, Harry was the one instigating these types of get-togethers with his friends and bandmates. He liked to be the life of the party, but as the tour loomed closer and closer, he felt some tinge of longing for quiet and solitude. He knew he wouldn’t have much quiet while on the road, which mostly didn’t scare him. He loved the stage and the high he received from performing and the gratification he felt from all the people in the room being there to see him. But there was also that other part of him that liked the quiet, the privacy. As the lack of alone time nudged itself around the corner, he had been hoping to enjoy solitude, or at the very least peace before he was on the road. Some sort of blissful state before technical chaos ensued. When Charlotte, the host of tonight’s soiree, had texted their group chat about tonight, Harry had politely declined. Then came the slew of private texts from Charlotte giving him all the reasons he should come tonight. He tried to say no again, but had shown up after the continued begging from her.

His appearance mirrored his expression, choosing a not perfectly fitted white t-shirt and random trousers rather than picking something he really loved, like usual. You could tell something was up and as his friend you were wondering what was wrong with him.

“Don’t sound so excited, Harry, someone might mistake you for somebody who’s happy to be here.” You stick your tongue into the side of your cheek, gauging his reaction.

“Has anyone ever told you you’re not very funny?” He quips, green eyes flashing to meet yours.

Your banter is probably how the pair of you communicated the best, never really falling into the whole serious side of friendship. You never shared those late night talks about the future or your fears. It was a fun friendship, so you didn’t fancy yourself one of his closest confidants. When it came to music, you and Harry were a bit more serious which formed a sort of paradox because the music you would share with each other gave a far greater insight into your souls than you probably realized. As a member of his band, you would discuss his music and what was going on with that sort of business part. But the sharing and discussion of other music that you did was part of your friendship, even if you didn’t see it like that. Because of the countless albums you had recommended to each other and the specific songs you had made note of, Harry and you knew each other much better than you thought you did. Music connects to something deep inside yourself and you have to like it enough and know the other person well enough to believe that they will also enjoy it to recommend it. As much tongue and cheek that you partook in with Harry, deep down, unbeknownst to either of you, you were that friend he shared his hopes and fears with, through the way he knew best, music.

“No, most people find me hilarious...”

You take a sip of your drink, trying to cover up the sting that his remark actually left. Most of the time you were great at keeping up with anyone’s banter, especially Harry’s, but tonight you weren’t feeling it. His tone had sounded so harsh it almost sounded like he meant it. His features soften when he sees the way your face falls, despite your sarcastic tone.

“‘M sorry. I’m just not in the best mood tonight. Didn’t want to come, but Charlotte…” He shifts to face you, arm retracting slightly around the couch, landing his hand at the edge of your shoulder. His fingers fiddle with themselves absentmindedly, he turns his rings around his fingers and they ever so slightly brush against your shoulder. You don’t mind, you know its his nervous tick that he did whenever he didn’t have something to clink them against.

“Yeah, same here, actually.” Your tuck an out of place hair behind your ear, returning your gaze to Harry, who’s tilting his head at you curiously. “But might as well make the most of it, though. After all, this is our last week before tour starts.” You raise your glass and tilt it towards him before taking a sip.

You really didn’t have a plan, you were just trying to make him feel a little better. It was seldom you saw him so solemn at this type of gathering. He usually was the one bouncing from group to group, entertaining everyone with his dazzling charm and quick wit. Sometimes he would bring a date and spend the night with them in the corner, but that was usually at bigger parties than this. At these types of gatherings you often found yourself talking with Charlotte for most of the night. You were both new additions in the band and you had clicked immediately. You would travel in a pair between different groups and talk with everyone. Sometimes you would tell a humorous anecdote about your life and everyone would laugh wholeheartedly. Your ability to retell a story and make it hilarious every time seemed to be your secret talent. You could make any experience into a ten-minute retelling and it always sounds like the funniest moment of your life. It ranged from your embarrassing audition for Grease as a tween to your supermarket run in with an old acquaintance or B-list celebrity the day before. It didn’t matter what it was, it just always had the entire circle of people laughing and wiping their eyes with joy. You’d laugh a little with themselves, but usually you just had a triumphant smile on your lips for the rest of the night.

He nods, sipping his own drink for the first time since you had settled down beside him. “Well, I’m all ears.”

“What?”

“Give me your suggestions on how to make the most of tonight.”

“Drinking, mostly, was my plan,” you laugh nervously as Harry continues to stare at you intently.

“Mostly?”

“I mean, what do you want me to say? I didn’t think to pack my bouncy castle, my bad.”

He bites back a laugh but lets some air escape his defined nose, before staring with a deadpan face at you.

You like to tease him. You simply liked him. Harry was different from other men you knew. You were pretty sure most people could say that though. Harry was just different. It seemed like no one could not have some sort of affection for him. With the playful friendship the pair of you had, you always skirted the edge of flirtation. But you also didn’t particularly ever want to cross any lines with him. He was the employer of you, technically. He had brought you into his backing band and you wouldn’t do anything to harm that position. As well, at the end of the day you knew Harry. His tendencies and the choices he made.

When you were around him at parties like this, you had to try really hard to keep him at an arm’s length. Because on one hand, you would drink and suddenly the boundaries you put up didn’t seem that important, instead his lips started to look rather inviting, but on the other, you knew that he was extremely emotionally closed off to any relationship that was more than either friendship or a one night stand.

Harry doesn’t give you a response, just swings back his drink. The pair of you sit and drink in silence. Before you know it, Harry and you are five drinks in, finally talking after the second. The pair of you decide to move to the balcony outside and continue your conversation there after the third. After the fourth, you're getting really handsy and by the end of the fifth, Harry’s arm is wrapped tightly around your waist and you're laughing breathlessly into his neck. It looks like he’s just shielding you from the cold night air, but both of you seemed to be enjoying each other’s embrace for other reasons.

Finally catching your breath, you lean back and pant softly as you meet eyes with Harry. His pupils have blown out from the alcohol and dark light. The emerald green barely surrounds the black and you swear there’s flecks of gold or maybe brown in them. Your brows scrunch at the revelation and Harry asks what you’re thinking. You don’t respond, too entranced and drunk to even hear him.

“Oi,” he bops your nose, “What is goin’ on in there, little lady?”

Your hand reaches up and widens Harry’s eye manually. His inebriated state has no qualms about you doing such an odd thing. “Why’s your green not actually green?”

“What?” He asks before moving your hand away from his face, it instead falls to his chest. The pair of you shift until your caged between his body and the balcony’s ledge. You pout as you stare up at him. His skin looks soft and taught over every inch of his face and neck. The urge to kiss him keeps nagging at the back of your mind. The idea keeps creeping up closer and closer and the drunker you are the less likely you are to suppress it.

“Do you want to fuck me?” You blurt out.

“Sure.” Harry isn’t taken aback. He had been thinking about asking for a while, so he was glad you had asked first, made it easier for him.

“Okay, let’s go.”

He takes you back to your place, the pair of you catching a cab the short distance between yours and Charlotte’s flats. No one blinks an eye at the pair of you leaving together. Everyone watched the pair of you sulk all night about being there and only enjoying the other’s company, so they weren’t keen on either of you staying. Charlotte was simply glad the pair of you had stayed for as long as you did.

The two of you walk casually until you’re inside your bedroom. Once inside, Harry throws you on the bed and fucks you. Hard. He’s got you spread out in more ways than you had ever thought possible. He’s got you saying things you had never even dreamed of saying. And he’s got you cumming and screaming more than you could have ever wanted. He enjoys himself as well. He loves the way you feel around him and the way your eyes look up at him while he fucks you straight into the bed. He loves the way you sound whispering dirty things and screaming his name. He loves the feel of your soft skin all over your body as he pushes deep inside you. He loves the way you’re able to rip a guttural moan from him every time he cums. And he cums three times that night. While it wasn’t quiet, he did find that blissful state he had been in desperate need of.

After the third round, Harry feels spent. He brings himself into a sitting position, legs hanging off the edge of your bed. You’re lying in your bed, completely overstimulated, cumming at least twice as many times as Harry. He scratches at the top of his head, his bicep bulging as he folds his arms around himself.

“That was fucking good, Y/N. Just what I needed.”

You can only hum in response.

Then he takes your blanket and lays it over you. After that he begins to stand up, getting ready to grab his things and go.

“You don’t have to go…” your voice raises when you realize what he’s doing.

“Yeah, I do. This was just a one time thing, yeah? I enjoyed it, but you know...”

“Erm, I guess?” You rolled to fully look at him, he was pulling his t-shirt back on now, his marked chest disappearing beneath the white fabric. “Do you really not stay over at your one night stands?”

He thinks about it as he begins with his shoes and his glasses at the same time. “Yes? Usually I don’t know the person and I don’t particularly want to sign an autograph when I leave in the morning. Best to leave immediately afterwards.”

“That was exactly why I wanted you to stay...Shit! No chance you’ll give me an autograph now? Could sign my tit, right next to your hickies.”

He laughs, automatically in a better mood after the catharsis of having sex. It was also a relief for him that you didn’t seem to be weird about the hook up. “Shut up!”

“You’re a twat, Harold.” He groans instinctively at the annoying nickname, not caring about the ‘twat’ part. “But be my guest, you can freeze your arse off while waiting for your cab outside at this hour.”

“Rude..” He mutters, standing in your doorway now. “You wouldn’t actually make your employer stand out in the cold at this time of night. I haven’t even got a jumper. Could get a cold and ruin my voice. ”

“You’re the one who says it’s best to leave immediately. Get on it, mister.”

Your hand makes a shooing movement, but he doesn’t budge. You sigh as he makes a puppy dog face - eyes wide and a puckered pout with his flushed cheeks and lips - playing into your actual kindness, that he knows is somewhere. Your sweetness that you were keeping hidden from Harry right now. Nothing was serious between you so it made sense that you were trying not to let your innate ability to care show as he’s about to walk out on you.

“Ugh, fine. Stop looking at me like that. Just grab one of my coats from the bottom right, they’re all oversized so one should fit.” He doesn’t relent on the face. “And you can stay inside until your cab comes.” You sigh and throw one of your pillows at him. He catches it easily and throws it back, much softer than your throw. “Also never pull the employer card on me again when I’m naked in the bed you just fucked me in,” you call as he looks through your closet.

Returning with a patchwork coat you had thrifted tight over his shoulders, he looks at you seriously, “Yeah sorry about that part. Definitely wasn’t trying to exert my power over you, it sounded better in my head. Meant more like you could ruin my voice and both of our jobs.”

You nod and chuckle slightly, finding how inarticulate Harry could be as an endearing trait. His explanation didn’t actually make it sound better. “The jacket fits.” You say, choosing to move forward from Harry’s weirdness, knowing he didn’t mean any harm from his initial statement.

“Yeah, thanks. I think my cab is here,” He glances at his phone, “So I’ll go...See you?”

“I’m sure.” You smile, “We do in fact work together and will soon be touring the world. Would be a bit weird if I didn’t see you.”

“Right.” He nods and adds a peace sign before he walks out of your sight. You know he’s gone when you hear the door click shut. What an interesting night.

-

Love on Tour had just started and Harry couldn’t lie. He couldn’t keep his mind off of you. You were both his most recent partner and the best he had had in a while. He found himself rubbing over the spots on his neck and clavicle that you had given particular attention to during the night you had shared together. When he went to bed it was your body he pictured to get himself off. So, after the first show he’s beelining to you at the beginning of the after party. He’s got an adrenaline high and he needs a release. You’re the solution. He’s whispering in your ear, asking if you’d like to meet him in his dressing room. Your eyes study his face when he pulls back and they widen slightly when the realization of what he’s implying dawns on you. Then you’re nodding and excusing yourself from a random conversation five minutes later.

Inside Harry’s dressing room, you find Harry already unbuttoning his shirt. He grabs your face and shoves his lips onto yours once you lock the door. As he kisses you he tries to make one thing very clear, “This doesn’t mean anything.”

“Got it.” You begin to finish Harry’s job of taking off his shirt.

He pulls back to look you in the eye, “Are you okay with that?”

“Jesus fuck, yes, Harry, just shut up and fuck me senseless again!”

He listens to you and begins to kiss down your jaw and neck. His open-mouth kisses leave a searing trail across your skin. He settles on a spot at the base of your neck and begins to suck and nip at it with vigor. You set to work on finishing his job of unbuttoning his shirt. Then you pull off your own shirt, reaching behind you to untie the bows at the back. The new skin exposed grabs Harry’s attention and he moves down to suck over the cleavage of your tits. He’s happy to be back with his ‘bosom friends’. You smack his head when he says it and he chuckles darkly, only sucking harder on them causing you to moan louder than you would like.

Once you’re both in only your underwear, you find your back pressed up against the mirror behind the dressing room counter. Harry’s body is nestled between your spread legs as he kisses down your skin. His fingers dance along the line of your thong as he looks up from beneath his lashes for position, you only push his head closer to your heat in response. He laughs mischievously before tugging them down off your hips.

“Missed this pretty little cunt...All I’ve been thinkin’ ‘bout,” He mutters as he begins to latch onto your dripping core.

Your brows shoot up at the thought that Harry’s mind has been stuck on you for the past week. You definitely had thought about your drunken hook up a bit, but hadn’t thought it had left a lasting impression on Harry, you assumed he had that lovely of a night with every person he chose to spend intimate time with. These thoughts are forgotten when Harry’s warm tongue is lapping at your swollen bud. You’re already panting for Harry and now you’re heaving with moans and whimpers leaving your mouth with every lick and nip of his expert mouth.

“Fuck Harry, feels so good,” you whine as his tongue travels down your folds and swirls and dips into your hole.

He moans at your words and the way your legs squeeze at his head. His hands move to spread you open wide to maintain his control and he smirks at the way your body rolls due to the friction of his voice against your pussy.

“Be a good girl f’me,” he growls still pressed against your wet heat.

Your body rolls again as you get closer and closer to your first release. Your bite your lip trying to contain all of the sounds that are trying to escape your mouth. Harry notices the new silence and glances up seeing how you’re trying to behave. As much as he likes you obeying his words, he also wanted to hear how he was pleasuring you.

“Tell me how you feel, princess,” he demands.

“So-so good,” you hiccup as his fingers caress over your folds now as he looks you in the eyes, his lips wet with your slick. He kisses you hard, his tongue diving into your mouth and you kiss back passionately, loving your taste on his tongue.

He pulls back and your hands trail down his chest, swirling around his familiar tattoos and hair that grace his lower torso as you move. He grins, enjoying the feeling of you on him and how he was affecting you.

Soon enough, his cock is finding its way back to your glistening folds, wet with your own liquids as well as his saliva. His mouth waters at the sight. He only pushes into you a few times like this. Then he catches sight of himself in the mirror in front of him and can’t resist. He pulls out and flips you over, your squeal leaving your mouth before you can stop yourself. His dick finds your entrance once again, not wanting to be without the wonderful warmth for any longer than he must.

“Ahhh,” Harry groans when he slips back inside.

Your head throws back on your neck, the feeling of him as well as the sight of him gripping your hair in one hand and your fleshy hip in the other. His rings dig into the skin as he’s able to slam more forcefully in this position. You gasp and whine at his motions. The sounds coming from between your legs are turning you on even more and they seem to make Harry happy too. He picks up the pace and drops the grasp of your hair for a second. Your head falls down as you try to keep yourself up on your elbows.

Gripping both of your hips, Harry growls, “Look at me while I fuck you. C’mon now.”

You moan in response and tear your eyes open to see your reflections in the mirror. One hand goes up to hold onto the mirror to give yourself more traction, causing your back to arch even more. The new position has Harry’s cock slamming into you deeper.

“Fuck!” Harry practically yells and can’t keep himself from landing a harsh slap on your ass. You jump forward at the sting but his other hand keeps the pace steady. He keeps burying himself into you all the way to his base, his balls slapping at your now slick spread thighs. He rubs over the red handprint he had just left on your ass. You whimper and bite your lip, truly enjoying the sensation.

Still staring into the mirror as Harry commanded, your eyes water slightly and Harry makes eye contact with you through the mirror. You smile widely and he grins back. “This feels so fucking good. Your pussy takes me so well. Fuck…” Harry babbles, still pistoning into you. You had noticed how vocal he was the first time you had fucked, but thought it had just been the alcohol. Apparently not. But you didn’t mind, you much preferred it to partners who barely spoke or didn’t even moan. Like how were you supposed to know what was going on in their minds? With Harry, you knew he was having a good time.

A few more heavy thrusts and you felt yourself nearing the edge. Your panting was getting faster, exceeding the speed of Harry’s thrusts and he could also feel you were close. Your cunt began squeezing him tighter so he hooked a hand under your knee and brought it onto the table. He hunched over you slightly and snaked his hand to your clit. “C’mon darling, I know you're close. Can feel that little cunt putting a choke hold on my cock.” He rubs at your clit with the vigor of strumming a quick paced song on the guitar. It’s enough to overtake your senses and the laugh that had bubbled from his words turns into your orgasm moan. You try to muffle it into the arm that is holding you against the mirror to avoid a full on scream because it feels that good. You felt like you were having your first ever orgasm, it felt that new to you.

A few more thrusts and you’ve come down from it, but Harry still hasn’t finished. It’s your turn to be the partner coaxing the other to get off. “Faster, Har. Want you to cum too.” He grunts, picking back up the pace. He had slowed to let you ride out your stay. “That’s it...want you to cum in me. Your cock feels so fucking good.” You whine, meaning every word. He smiles again at you and closes his eyes, focusing on chasing his high. You watch as his smile widens to that open mouth grin, “Fuck,” he almost whispers. And there it is. There’s a twitch in his hips that mirrors his expression and then he’s pulling out and cumming on your back. His voice is now even lower and raspier than before as he babbles how good that was and how tight your pussy was. It was sweet nothings, but extremely explicit and you sighed heavily, feeling a small orgasm wash over you again. His final thrusts and voice pushing you off the cliff again easily.

The two of you take a minute to bring your breathing back to normal and Harry goes to clean your back off.

“So..how do you feel about maybe doing this regularly?”  Harry asks sheepishly as he begins to pull his pants back on.

“Like a friends with benefits kind of thing? Or bandmates with benefits, rather.” You laugh breathlessly at your not really funny joke, but you’re now truly exhausted. From the show and the fuck, you felt thouroughly worked out.

“I guess that’s what it is, yeah.”

“Yeah, sure. Sounds good.”

“You’re honestly so chill, Y/N. It’s fuckin’ hot.”

You laugh and flip your hair dramatically. You’re only in your bra and panties right now and Harry licks his lips, finding your playfulness to be a turn on. “What can I say?” You laugh.

“But like I said before...it’s just sex.” He’s buttoning up his shirt and looking at your reflection through the mirror now. He watches you slip the pants you had been wearing back on.

“Oh, Harold, I know.” On cue, he groans and turns around to face you after fixing his mused hair in the mirror. Interrupting yourself, you turn your back to Harry, “Can you tie this, sorry it’s hard for me to get the -” Harry walks to you without any hesitation and begins tying the silk ribbons on the back of your shirt. “Thanks. Anyway,” you turn to face him when he’s finished and you place both of your palms on his chest. “Trust me, I know you’ve got your issues and I’m not looking to be the girl that tries to change you. I know what this is. I only ask that you let me know when you sleep with other people, because once you do, you won’t need me.” Harry nods and you pat your hands against him. You both smile and go your separate ways when you leave the dressing room.

-

Harry and you fucked almost every night on tour. Sometimes it was right after, on the counter in his dressing rooms. Sometimes it was later in the evening in his hotel room or yours. He stopped leaving immediately after your hook ups. He never kicked you out of his room so he decided it was fine for him to stay in yours. Especially because you weren’t a stranger who would be weird with him in the morning. He also didn’t like trekking through the hotel halls late at night.

The first few times you stayed in the same bed, the two of you stayed on opposite sides of the bed, not touching after you were finished engaging in your sexual endeavours. Rigid bodies against the edges of the mattress. Then one particularly long night, filled with multiple rounds, Harry was so exhausted from his performance on stage and off that he collapsed on top of you. He fell asleep there and you didn’t particularly mind. It felt nice to be slightly compressed and held. He shifted in his sleep and when he woke up he wasn’t upset to find you nestled into his side with his arms wrapped around you. After that, cuddling sort of became part of the routine. After you were done having sex, Harry or you would get up to clean up and bring back waters. Then you would settle in his arms. Sometimes in a spooning position and sometimes you cradled softly into his chest. You didn’t talk about it, it just happened.

One night it was your head directly on top of his butterfly tattoo, one leg thrown over his lower torso and your arm snuggly wrapped around his middle. He liked to pet your hair when you laid against his chest in that way. His fingers would fiddle with the strands and you liked it because he usually took off his rings before he would do it and his hands felt so soft and delicate against you. Harry liked the way he felt when he would hold you afterwards. It was calming to fall asleep against your soft skin and feel your fingertips trace lyrics to songs he wasn’t sure the name of against his own.

No one knew about how your friendship with Harry worked. To the rest of the world, you seemed to be someone who had become another close friend in the band. You were similar to Mitch in many respects. Except for when Harry winked at you during a show, it wasn’t a friendly wink, it was a ‘this song makes me horny and I can’t wait to relieve the pressure by fucking you later’ kind of wink. You knew this because Harry had gone over and whispered it in your ear during a quick break, when you had only looked at him weirdly after he did it.

Before the show tonight, you pulled Harry aside, “So what are we thinking tonight? I feel like I might want to ride you...Haven’t been on top in a while.” In the darkness of the backstage, you crane your neck to take Harry’s earlobe between your teeth. He groans softly and grips your hips to guide them against his for a second. “Sounds fuckin’ fantastic, love.” You twitch back, releasing him immediately at the word. You always told him not to call you that and he tried to reason with you, that it was just something he called people. But you disliked it a lot, adding it to the growing list of rules the pair of you had for the do’s and don'ts of being friends with benefits with each other.

“Harold,” you groan and he steps back at that pet name. While he hated this, you refused to let him put it on the list because it didn’t cross any lines with your physical arrangement. Not that there was any physical list to put it on, it was more of a theoretical list that the two of you would speak of occasionally.

“Sorry.” He says eventually, “Didn’t mean it.” You both laugh.

You think about how other relationships were sometimes desperate to hear their partner express their love for them and you believe you’re grateful for the simplicity of your arrangement. The term relationship regarding what you and Harry were doing was also in the ‘don’t’ category on the list. If either of you were being honest, there should be no need for a list and you should be questioning yourselves why you felt the need to set boundaries if one part of it was physical and the other part was your friendship and job. If it truly was just physical why were boundaries constantly needing to be set and followed? But right now honesty was not in the cards.

-

After the show Harry gets delayed with press or fans or something that you don’t really care about. You barely read the text that he sends, only caring about the ‘sorry got held up’ and the ‘be there in thirty’.

You let yourself into his room and wait on the bed, flipping through your phone, completely unbothered by the rest of the world. When you hear a knock on the door, you don’t think twice about getting up and opening the door. You only realize your terrible mistake when it’s Mitch and not Harry standing at what you’re also just realizing isn’t your door, but instead Harry’s.

“Shit!” you say under your breath as Mitch looks at you confused.

The room is dark behind you because Harry would have just entered and gotten down to business. He might turn on a side lamp, but you hadn’t felt the need to have light on while you waited. Forgetting all of that, you had just gone to the door and opened it.

Mitch tucks some of his hair behind his ear as he stares at you. “Is Harry here?”

“Er..No?” It comes out as a question. You rub the back of your ankle with your foot, feeling nervous.

“Is he actually not here or?” Mitch trails off, narrowing his eyes at you.

“No, no he’s really not here. I’m waiting for him, too.” You rush your words, but try to remain calm.

“You have a key to his room. And you’re waiting in the dark.” He says. They’re not questions and you’re not sure just how guilty you look.

“Yeah!” You try to come up with a non suspicious response, hoping there’s a way to still salvage your’s and Harry’s secret, “He gave me his key because he wanted to talk about something and I kept it dark because my eyes always hurt after shows. Kind of like a migraine.” You scratch at your head and smile, trying to convince Mitch. He seems to believe you as he nods slowly and opens his eyes more.

There’s a little bit of an awkward silence and Mitch shifts his weight between his feet, looking at you still. Just as you're about to invite Mitch to come wait inside with you, Harry steps out of the elevator and begins to walk down the hall. His key card is already in hand and your eyes widen. Harry’s expression mirrors yours when he realizes Mitch is standing outside of his door and that you are standing with him. “Mitch!” Harry says, placing his hand on Mitch’s shoulder and sliding his key card into his back pocket with the other. Mitch turns to Harry without seeing him put away the other key card and you look at the pair of them.

“I was just telling Mitch how you gave me your key card so we could talk about...that thing.” You interject, flicking the lights on in Harry’s room as casually as possible. Harry shoots you a look about how you couldn’t come up with an actual reason for being there. You shrug your shoulders helplessly.

Mitch looks between the two of you and feels some weird tension and he’s not sure if it's always there and he’s just noticing or if something is going on right now.

“Yeah, well, I came to stop by to talk about the riff in Canyon Moon. Something is wonky with it.”

“Oh! Sure,” Harry nods to Mitch and then glances at you, “Y/N, we can talk about that other thing later. It’s not that important anyway.” His tone is so casual and nonchalant. You stare at him, thinking he can’t be serious. You had been almost sure he would send Mitch away, but instead you were being kicked to the curb. When he doesn’t say sike or anything of the sort, you nod. “Okay,” then you mumble a ‘good luck’ with figuring out the problem with the song. Mitch walks in the door, but Harry’s eyes stay fixed on your figure retreating down the hallway. He watches you disappear and is only pulled from his thoughts when Mitch calls his name from the couch in the room.

After reaching your floor, you key into your room and get ready for bed. Just as you’re about to drift off to sleep, completely alone for once in a long time, there’s another knock. This time you check the peephole, a habit you realized you were going to have to get better at. It’s Harry. You open the door and walk away immediately once he’s entered the room.

“Why are you here?”

“Thought we could still...” He follows you into the room, trying to make out your face in the darkness.

“I’m not in the mood anymore.” Your tone gives away your annoyance. You couldn’t hide that you were mad at Harry for sending you away. It made you feel weird. The way he did it so easily made you feel like you were extremely disposable and unwanted.

“I’m sorry,” he sighs as he lays down beside you. You turn to face him when he places a hand on the small of your back. You’re face to face and your noses are almost brushing. It’s not really possible to see each other’s features, but after months of hooking up you knew each other’s faces pretty well. You could reach out and pinpoint all of Harry’s freckles and moles on his face and neck right now and be correct. He could likely do the same. The theory is proven correct when he reaches out and his hand dances down your cheek. “Just thought it would be less suspicious if I didn’t get rid of him. Couldn’t make him wait either…”

“I know,” your voice is small and soft, just above a whisper, “I forgive you.” You scoot closer to him and Harry instinctively wraps his arm around you, bringing you tightly into him. You sigh into his neck and he shivers at your warm breath on his slightly clammy skin. When you lick your lips, they brush lightly against his skin. He laughs at the feeling, so you decide to press an intentional kiss to the hollow in his neck. In response, he presses a kiss to your hairline, his lips slightly chapped after the concert.

The kisses are tender, filled with that thing neither of you dare attribute to anything the two of you did in the dark. The word you told him time and time again to not call you. So is just about every touch and word that has been exchanged in this room since Harry entered it. You fall asleep wrapped up in his arms, a soft smile resting on both of your faces. Neither of you seem to mind that you didn’t actually have sex tonight or anything even close to it.

-

When you wake up you feel especially well rested. You shift around and realize your bed is empty besides you. It depended on the day, but it was always a toss up between Harry being there when you woke up or not. However, lately, you had found it was usually the former. You would linger longer and so would Harry in each other’s rooms, lounging in each other’s embrace under the soft glow of the morning light peaking through whatever windows the room had. Today you were cold at his absence. Then you look up and realize you aren’t completely alone. Harry is standing at the end of your bed, staring down at his phone, smiling.

“Hey.”

You wait for his reply, but he doesn’t look up from his phone. “Hey, Harold,” you repeat. His head snaps up, a grimace on his face at the name. He slips his phone in his pocket and ruffles his hair. “Hey.” He finally responds. “I’m gonna head out.”

“Okay.”

Neither of you seem to find it necessary to talk about what happened last night. Harry definitely seemed a little off to you this morning, but you try to shake it from your thoughts. There was no reason to be upset with him being quiet. He didn’t owe you anything, you hadn’t even slept together last night, so if anything it was weird he stayed as long as he did.

It was the second night at the Forum in Los Angeles. This means no travelling necessary. No day off either, tomorrow you’d have a day off before the third and final show at the venue though.

Harry and you were talking normally at the venue, mostly about the setlist - him and Mitch had changed something for whatever reason last night, which was fine. Your banter was to a minimum, but you were trying to convince yourself that nothing was off. Even though it felt like something was different, you couldn’t place your finger on what it was, so you thought it was best to ignore it.

When Harry is about to go out on stage, you don’t pull him aside and when he introduces the members of the band to the audience, he doesn’t say anything fun or silly about you. He doesn’t wink or come up to you at any point in the performance. It’s so unusual the rest of your bandmates are giving you funny looks. Charlotte looks at you from across your keyboard in a way that she’s asking if you’re okay. You shake your head at everyone trying to signal that you’re fine.

Mitch goes over to Harry and whispers in his ear to check in with him, Harry looks at him with a bright smile on his face and says “of course, why wouldn’t I be?” Mitch looks between the pair of you, thinking back to last night and how weird the pair of you were being then. Maybe it dawns on him then what might be going on between the two of you, but if he did, he wouldn’t mention it for a long time.

You falter a bit on your back up vocals tonight. You’re trying to give it your all, like always, but for some reason your voice isn’t sounding the way you want it. About halfway through the show, when your voice comes out the exact opposite of how you would like, Harry finally gives you a second glance. His face practically emotionless, save for the single arched brow. He’s concerned, but not concerned enough where he would go over to you. He just doesn’t understand why you keep missing the right note tonight. You make a shake of your hand to say I don’t know either. He just shrugs and turns back around to continue the show, his lively smile returning while he turns his head.

After the show, Charlotte, Sarah, and you are all checking in, going over what had happened during the show in general. They’re both worried about your voice and you’re simply trying to tell them that it was just an off night. Nothing was wrong. As long as you told everyone else that, then it might turn out to be true.

“It’s fine, maybe I didn’t get enough sleep last night,” you fib, having gotten more sleep last night than most other nights on this tour. They both nod, seeming to take that as a reasonable answer.

Then Charlotte gets quieter as she whispers to the three of you, “Did you guys notice anything weird with Harry? He was super lively, but he barely interacted with you, Y/N, which is so unlike him...”

Sarah nods while you look skeptically on. Sarah adds, “He kept looking up to the boxes, too. More than usual at least. I don’t know though…” She trails off and you cross your arms over your chest, not really enjoying the conversation topic. “I mean, what do you think, Y/N?” Sarah adds.

Your eyes dance between the two women, your fellow bandmates, your friends. You sometimes wished you could share with them what you were doing with Harry. The secret was fun, but it’s also nice to be able to share with your girlfriends about the guy you’re seeing, even if it is a casual thing. The friendly gossip of it all is something fun to share, but sadly that was another thing you couldn’t do. You sigh, “You never really know what’s going on in his mind, y’know. He’s just Harry.” Your response is half-assed at best. You figure they’ll both give you shit for the non-answer you just supplied, but instead someone else speaks for them.

“I am in fact, just Harry.” He says and you swivel around to find yourself almost chest to chest with him. Charlotte laughs while Sarah simply smiles. Your eyes are huge as you stare up at him and you hope your blush doesn’t come out too strongly after being caught talking about Harry by himself. “Enlighten me on when I was being ‘just Harry’ though?” You bite your lip and take a step back from him, forming more of a line with the other women. He shrugs when no one offers a response, laughing lightly.

“Oh and Y/N, I can’t talk about that thing again tonight, I’ve got-”

“A date?” Charlotte asks, trying to understand why Harry was acting a little different tonight still. The part that Sarah had mentioned about him looking up into the boxes had given her the idea that he might have plans with someone after the show. Harry scratches his head, his hair slightly wet with sweat right after the show. He’s taken off his coat so he’s just in the almost completely unbuttoned, sweat soaked shirt he had been wearing underneath. It sticks tight to his skin and you can make out all the muscle lines that hide beneath the fabric that you usually get to caress. Your eyes flit from his body back to his face when he speaks again.

“Erm, I wasn’t going to phrase it like that...but yes, I suppose, it’s a date.” He says finally, he avoids your eye contact and you look at him very confused, trying to hide the hurt. He shoves his hands in his pockets trying to look and sound as casual as possible and ignore the strain he sees on your face. Is that what had held him up yesterday? Making plans with someone else? And he hadn’t told you until now? The past twenty four hours stung a little bit more now that you knew why Harry was being so distant. It simply felt icky finding out this way and it didn’t even seem like he was going to tell you it was a date.

“Okay,” you say simply and walk away. You hear Charlotte asking him details about his date, but you try actively not to hear any of it. Sarah watches you walk away and sees the way you wrap your arms around yourself to comfort you. She feels a twinge of sadness as she watches the scene unfold, seeing something she hadn’t realized was there before.

Harry doesn’t text or call you that night. You hang out with everyone else for a little while in Charlotte’s room before heading to bed, saying you think you need an early night tonight. Before you’re able to walk out of the door, Mitch stops you. “I heard Harry blew off whatever conversation the two of you have been trying to have again. Just wanted to tell you I’m sorry.” You try to smile but it comes out as more of a grimace. There is no conversation Harry is blowing off, it’s simply you. “It’s fine. Like he said yesterday, it’s not important.” Mitch nods, but still looks at you with concern. What he had seen last night, then on stage today, and what Sarah had told him about your interaction after the show it all strung together in his mind. It didn’t seem unimportant at all. But he didn’t know how he could tell you that. He felt like he should talk to Harry about the way you looked when you left Charlotte’s room tonight, but he didn’t know how to bring it up to him either.

You don’t realize you’re crying until you're in the elevator, and it’s slowly rising to your floor of the hotel. You’re only one level up, but it feels like an eternity in there. You already weren’t a fan of elevators, but this ride felt impossibly worse. The walls are all made up of mirrors and you see yourself in the reflection, but you don’t exactly recognize the girl in there. Your eyes are tired from the show, dark circles already formed. Your hands are aching, clenching and unclenching on their own accord. Your body is slumped against the back wall, likely leaving a slight imprint from the smoke residue and dust on your clothes. Worst of all are the tears running down your face, smudging at your makeup, the black mascara you had applied dripping down in sinister raindrops against your skin. The sad girl stares back at you as you sniffle slightly, confused at what you’re seeing. “Why are you crying?” you ask yourself, your voice creaking and then breaking at the end as you struggle to get out the word ‘crying’ before a sob wracks through you. You roll your eyes when your reflection offers no explanation for itself. You laugh at your own patheticness and try to shake the feelings you’re experiencing.

Inside your room now, you flop on the bed and stare straight up at the ceiling. Your arms spread to your sides and your legs lay limply below you. You think about every night before last, every night since the tour started. Every night where you weren’t alone, where you were with Harry. Your mind flits to last night, how Harry’s lips had ghosted over your skin after his apology. How you had told him you forgave him and it had felt so peaceful, so simple. It was all so easy. Thinking about him and the things the two of you did together brought a smile to your face, unbeknownst to you. When you realize it’s there, your face drops immediately, deciding not to think about Harry.

But trying to not think about Harry makes you only think about him more and what you think about him now most definitely doesn’t bring a smile to your face. You’re thinking about him out on his date with some person you chose to learn nothing about. Maybe out of fear of what is happening right now. By knowing nothing about the person, you can’t compare yourself to them. Can’t see what’s different about them that would make Harry go out on a date with them. But it doesn’t matter who they are or what they look like because at the end of it all you know one thing for certain. They’re not you. You correct yourself, you know two things actually, because you also know that Harry chose to be with them instead of you tonight.

You fall asleep with tear stained cheeks that night and absolutely nothing positive on your mind. You want to sleep but know it only brings whatever is bound to happen tomorrow, which doesn’t seem very promising.

-

It’s noon when you wake up and you wake to a knocking on your door. You grumble and throw a sweatshirt over your body to hide the underwear you slept in. Not remembering your new habit, you swing the door open without any hesitation to find Harry. He looks wide awake and happy, the way he almost always looks, a fresh beautiful flower of a man. You look at him groggily, “What are you doing here?”

“You weren’t answering your phone.”

“Because I was asleep?” You tilt your head and look at him incredulously. “What about this,” you gesture to your appearance, “looks like I just went for a 3 mile jog for fun and I love the morning?”

“Can I come in?” He ignores everything you just said and enters the room when you leave the door to get back in bed. You often did that with him, you don’t know why, but when he asked to come in the room it was just simpler to let him in then say anything. He knew what you meant.

He sits at the edge of the bed as you reclaim your spot in the middle of it, tucked slightly under the covers, but still sitting up. “How was your date?” You try to sound nonchalant and it seems to work. Harry doesn’t notice your tense figure, but you notice how he tenses up when you ask.

“Good…Her name was-” You don’t let him finish, you already know the answer to this next question and you don’t need her name in order to ask it, “Did you fuck her?”

He’s silent, green eyes staring straight at you. You meet his gaze, your eyes almost burning holes into him. His eyes are begging you to not make him answer the question, he doesn’t want this to end, even if he also didn’t want the commitment he had felt himself exhibiting the other night.

When he had come to your room the other night after Mitch had almost caught you, he knew he shouldn’t have stayed. He didn’t want you to feel bad so he had come to apologize, but when the pair of you didn’t have sex, he should have left. But he didn’t, he stayed and it wasn’t for you, it was for himself. It was for him to hold you in his arms because he liked to. But when he woke up the next morning he knew he needed to leave. Solely cuddling wasn’t part of your arrangement together. It’s probably on the list of don'ts that the pair of you had. So after he realized the line he had willingly crossed with you, he quickly sent a text to Jeff who had tried to set him up with a model they were acquaintances with the night before - the reason he had gotten held up. Harry had initially declined, not very interested in seeing anyone else but you. But looking back on that choice in the light of day seemed to solidify what this relationship was - a relationship - and Harry didn’t like that. The commitment wasn’t part of the plan, so he told Jeff to set that date up for after the second show at the Forum and give the woman a ticket. That’s why he was smiling at his phone the morning after only cuddling with you, that’s why he didn’t joke around with you during the show, and that’s why he wasn’t in your bed last night.

You watch him expectantly, silently waiting for his answer, your veins cold as ice. He finally starts his answer and he wants to make it clear that it wasn’t as good with the other woman, but he’s not sure how to work that part in. He’s not sure how to explain to you it meant nothing if your arrangement also apparently meant nothing. You barely even let him get in a sentence. “Yes, but it was just a one time-”

“Alright.”

“What?” He doesn’t understand what you mean when you nod your head and cut him off.

“I told you at the beginning, Harry. Tell me when you sleep with someone else because when you do this is over. It doesn’t matter if she’s the love of your life or a one night stand. I will not be a backup plan, so if you’re able to find other people to sleep with, you don’t need to be sleeping with me.”

He sits in silence for a moment, his jaw dropped open slightly. He’s unable to keep it shut as his mind races about what to say. “Are you mad with me?”

“No, I’m fine. This was just sex. Charlotte will be happy that I’ll be going out with her more.”

Harry’s brow furrows as you shift away from him on the bed, grabbing your phone and beginning to flick through it. You feel numb and you’d like to not think about why.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” He asks because he does care about you, worry is written all over his face. He just can’t commit, not now.

“What would I be mad about, Harry?” You look up and your eyes widen at him, silently asking him to truthfully say why you should be so upset about this revelation. You always knew it would eventually come to an end, you just hadn’t expected so soon. You hadn’t known the last time would be the last time and it broke your heart even if you knew it shouldn’t.

He shifts to reach his hand out to touch your exposed knee. You move away from him and he sighs, looking exasperated. “I- I don’t know. It just seems like we should talk about this.”

“You didn’t even think it was necessary to tell me you were going on a date last night, so I think it’s best if we just left it at ‘it’s fine, see you around’.”

He spreads his hands out across the sheets, examining his rings and painted nails thoroughly. You’re right, he doesn’t really want to talk about this. Well, more so, he’s conflicted. He would like to talk enough that you want to continue your arrangement but he doesn’t want to talk about feelings or emotions. Even if he has those feelings and emotions, they’re just not part of the things he’d like to talk about. “But-” You set your phone down at his first word, “Were you even going to tell me you fucked someone else today if Charlotte hadn’t asked you if it was a date last night? Would you just have come to my room tonight and acted like nothing had changed?”

“I would have told you.”

“Sure.”

“I swear I would’ve. I would never break a promise to you.”

“But you would make a decision that affects the both of us without telling me until afterwards?” Your voice breaks a little and you beg yourself not to cry right now.

“I thought you said this was just sex?”

You laugh humorlessly, in disbelief, “Of course it’s not, Harry! And it hasn’t been for a long time and that’s why you got scared and went and fucked someone else.” He looks at you blankly, unsure what to say, knowing you’re right. You continue, “But I also told you at the beginning of this, that I wasn’t going to try to change you. So this is me not trying to change you.” You sigh when he still says nothing, his expression completely unreadable, even to you. “Why couldn’t you have left it at ‘it’s fine’?” You say finally, barely above a whisper.

He blinks a few times after your final question. He flexes his hand one more time and then stands up from the bed. He adjusts his clothes and stares at you. You feel helpless, but you’re still trying to look pulled together, even after your outburst. You stare back. A thousand words floating through your heads, all the things you want to say and likely never will.

“I know, I’m…” he pauses, trying to get himself to say it, but he can’t. He can’t admit that he’s completely ruined whatever messed up paradise you had created together. “I’ll see you later.”

The apology or lack there of hangs in the air as he walks silently out your door. You don’t move, you barely even blink, still staring at the spot he had just occupied. Your breath finally escapes you, a large sigh. Then some nervous laughter. It was over...just like that. But things like this, left like this are never really over.

-

It’s awkward for a good amount of the rest of the tour. You hang out with your bandmates more and Harry rarely ever comes out with them after the shows. He either hangs out with Mitch on his own or is going out with random people he knows on the road. You and him speak, but it’s never a lot or about anything relatively meaningful. It’s not the fun back and forth of before or the fiery heat of sneaking around. You try to be normal with him, act like his casual friend and bandmate.

He does his best to do the same, but it’s difficult for him. He doesn’t know how to talk to you anymore. He misses being with you, but can’t bring himself to fix it. He doesn’t do much to right his wrongs with you. He also doesn’t even know what he would want if he did apologize. It scared him to think about the step that came after ‘sorry’ so he saved himself the trouble and never did that part either. One night he texts you: “I’m trying, it’s just hard.” and that’s it. You don’t give him a response, he doesn’t need one. You know he’s trying and he knows you know.

Near the end of the tour, he comes out with the rest of you for drinks one night. Only Mitch is between the two of you in the booth, so you feel closer to Harry than you’ve felt in a long time. The group of you are chatting and having a good time. You somehow get onto a story from when you were still in college. You explain how you had narrowly avoided getting Chlamydia right before your Christmas break junior year. You act out the conversations you imagined would have happened at all your Christmas events if you had indeed gotten it. Your impressions of your mother, father, and sister have everyone laughing the most. Harry is shaking with laughter from your story and you smile at him in appreciation when he says, “That is the funniest story I’ve heard in a long fucking time.”

The rest of the night goes really well, for the most part. No one bickers or is short with each other. Everyone is laughing and drinks are flowing. Eventually Mitch gets up to go to the bathroom and you feel Harry slide back into the booth closer to you after letting Mitch out. Your hand had taken up residence next to your thigh, resting on the vinyl of the booth. You sense something next to it now and notice Harry’s hand is resting close beside it. He shifts his hand closer when he sees that you’re looking down at it. He’s almost touching you and you look up to his eyes, wondering if he’ll close the distance. He makes an imperceptible shake of his head, but you know what he means. As you’re about to shift your hand so that your pinky connects with his, Mitch returns and your head shoots up to his figure. You instantly remove your hand from the vinyl and shift closer to Charlotte. Harry gets up, but doesn’t sit back down once Mitch is settled. He instead walks off to get another drink, risking one last look at the table where he makes eye contact with you, but he doesn’t come back. Mitch informs everyone that Harry went back to the hotel because “he was tired” after Harry doesn’t return and Mitch gets a text. You roll your eyes, sure that you saw him slip out of the side door with a woman he found at the bar after he had gotten his drink. If that’s what ‘tired’ looked like on Harry, it was fine.

You start to speak to Harry on a more regular basis after that night out. It’s not funny or lighthearted. It’s just ‘I saw this song the other day, thought you might like to listen’. It went back and forth, it wasn’t everyday but it was something. The last text between the two of you before you began sharing songs again was his ‘I’m trying it’s just hard’ text that he had sent randomly one night. Then after one of you would listen, you would see each other at sound check and mention the song and what you thought about it. It can be noted that it was Harry who sent the first song.

For Harryween, Adam couldn’t be there. He has some family emergency the day of and doesn’t come with the rest of you to Madison Square Garden or the hotel you were staying at. Thankfully, Charlotte also plays keys and you can play bass. The band had to shift around some things on stage and make minimal changes to the setlist since you weren’t rehearsed on the covers Harry was doing. You spent the whole day running through the chords of those songs with Mitch, trying to memorize them so you didn’t mess it up during the show.

It was weird because for Harryween the setlist was switched up a little from the regular set for Love On Tour. Harry was playing the entire new album as well as half of the first album, Medicine, some of his other unreleased stuff, and about six covers, including old One Direction songs. It was going to be a long show and a challenge for you.

Before the show, Harry pulls you aside, to a dark corner backstage, and your mind flits back to the last time you had been in this type of position. The last time he had called you ‘love’, the last time you bit his earlobe - which always drove him crazy, the last time he ground his hips against yours, those and more and you had no idea that it was the last. By then you had already had sex with Harry for the last time, kissed his lips for the last time. It made your heart race to be so close to him and so alone once again. But it’s nowhere near the same as it once was. You shake the memories from your mind and look up expectantly at him.

“Have you got this?” He asks seriously, tone concerned. Of course it’s a music question, nothing more. Like it always was now.

“Yeah, of course.” His stare is unwavering and you try not to falter from it.

“I can get someone else to cover tomorrow, it was just such a short notice today. You know bass really well too, it made sense.”

“I’ve got this. Seriously, don’t worry, Harold.” You pat his chest lightly and for once Harry smiles at the sound of your nickname for him. You had stopped using it after the end of your arrangement. It never felt right to use when you were talking about music, and that was about the only time you had been talking. In this moment though, it felt right. His warm, large hands held your upper arms as you stared up into his big eyes. You missed staring into them, the shimmering emerald of his irises were constantly intriguing. You instinctively reach up to move back a curl that has fallen onto his forehead. He doesn’t shy away from your touch and continues to smile down at you.

“Y’haven’t called me that in forever.” He grins, his lips a shiny pink from the lip balm he had on.

“No, I suppose I haven’t. But where was the groan? The whole point is to annoy you.” You smile coyly. He tips his head back and laughs, releasing your arms from his grasp as he laughs wholeheartedly.

Then he does a soft groan, a playful sound, “How was that?”

“Eh. I’ll give you a four out of ten. Not enough emotion behind it.” You slide from the area the two of you have been occupying and make your way onto the stage to start dealing with the bass you would be playing. You hear Harry call out to you, “I think I deserve at least a five, maybe even a six!” You turn back for a second to look at him with an unimpressed expression and shake your head no. He laughs again and you hear him even when you walk out onto the stage. You smile to yourself as you pick up the bass.

When he introduces the band, he waits to talk about you last. “And sadly this evening Mr. Adam Prentergest, our usual fabulous bassist, was unable to attend our fancy dress party! However! Our lovely Y/N L/N is also a superb bassist and was kind enough to step into his place. - Anything to add?” He saunters across the stage to you and you laugh kindly, feeling at ease in this part of the stage even though you were usually on the opposite side and further back from the crowd. You nod at Harry and he leans his portable mic towards your lips. You wet them quickly and eye Harry before turning out to the crowd. “Just please go easy on me if the bass sounds a bit wonky. It wasn’t on the job description that I’d be playing songs I didn’t know, with a few hours notice, on not my main instrument.” You say this in a kind of list format, holding up your fingers as you tick off all the ways that this was out of your comfort zone. You scratch your head dramatically after you’re finished and the whole crowd laughs and cheers. The rest of your bandmates chuckle along and Harry nods and smiles at you.

“You’ll do great, love.” He leans into your ear and says without the microphone. Then he winks and turns to go back to the center of the stage. You press your lips together to contain your smile, both happy and concerned about the flip your stomach just did.  

The show is going great. Harry is killing it with the crowd. Everything is electric. You’re entirely focussed on your bass playing, but Harry has been coming over every so often to do something fun or have you tell a joke.

“She’s truly the funniest person I know! And I know a fair amount of people I think.” Harry says as he walks over to you have you tell another joke. Mitch has been looking at you and Harry interacting all night and he’s sure that it isn’t your different position that has him coming over and talking to you so much tonight. Something has definitely changed once again. First the pair of you were always together and having fun, then it was silence and stolen glances that neither of you realized you were taking, now it was back to the beginning.

“That’s because you think puns are part of the top tier levels of comedy.” You say easily, “Here, I can guarantee Harry will love this and the rest of you will likely groan.” Then you stop and act as if you’re thinking for a little, everyone’s waiting expectantly. “Sorry, thinking...Well, I’ve got some skeleton puns I could do, they’re very humerus or y’know classic vampire ones..eh but those ones kind of suck. What do you think, Harry?” You look out at the crowd, face deadpan, as Harry laughs beside you. You roll your eyes playfully and push him back to the center of the stage. Leaning into your own mic now, you say, “I told you.” That’s when everyone laughs. Harry throws another look at you over his shoulder and laughs a little more, his smile wide and eyes bright.

A little over half way through the night, it’s time for ‘to be so lonely’. You already knew the bass chords for it before today and you were confident in yourself by now. It wasn’t as hard a song so you were happy for the little break. This song allowed you to not be looking down at the notes you had stuck to the floor in front of you. Harry’s voice comes in after Mitch’s intro and you watch the way his lips move against his mic. You laugh a little as you watch the crowd yell the first “arrogant son of a bitch” line. You used to not particularly like when people did that, but after it had ended with Harry you had started to enjoy it a bit more. Having those people yell the words you couldn’t, but truly felt about him sometimes, was cathartic. Tonight you weren’t angry with him, but you enjoyed the energy in the room when everyone said it. We’ve all got our own ‘arrogant son of a bitch’ that we want to scream at sometimes. Tonight yours wasn’t Harry for the first time in a long time. The song moves along and Harry takes the microphone off its stand, he walks towards your side of the stage. When the lyrics get to:

“I miss the shape of your lips, your wit, it’s just a trick, this is it so I’m sorry”

Harry isn’t looking at the crowd, he’s looking straight at you. You don’t understand the way he’s looking at you. Or maybe you don’t want to understand it. This song, its lyrics, explains Harry really well. You saw the relationship you had with him in the words. Maybe not precisely, but a part of it was in it. Harry had unknowingly foretold your lives with his words. You know he has trouble connecting and committing, you know his issues, and you accept them. But you knew what had happened between the two of you was far more serious than meaningless sex and you knew Harry couldn’t bring himself to be that serious. He ran off and that was fine, but the face that he couldn’t even apologize hurt you the most. But the song lays it all out for you, he’s not one to be able to apologize quickly. The fact that he looks at you and means the apology he sings in the song for you, it’s a big step, but it’s not enough. The banter, the technical apology, it was all a good start, but it’s just that - the beginning. If Harry wants to make things better with you, a lot more needs to be discussed. So when you sing backing vocals for the following chorus you mean the words for Harry completely.

“Don’t call me baby again, you got your reasons, I know that you’re trying to be friends. I know you mean it, but don’t call me baby again it’s hard for me to go home and be so lonely”

His eyes flick to you again and see your lips moving around the words as you play the bass. He sees the emotion in your face and understands what you’re saying. It’s hard for you to go to your room at night and be alone while he’s out with someone else. It’s hard for him to act like everything’s all fine and perfect, back to normal, because for you it isn’t really. He can’t call you ‘love’ and tell the world you’re funny and expect it to be enough. He can’t sing his sorry that was initially for someone else to you and expect you to accept it. And he knows it, too.

After the show everyone decides they’re exhausted and need to rest before tomorrow. You all planned to celebrate the whole day and you knew it was going to be a wicked Halloween. Knowing this, you’re surprised with the knock on your door after about an hour of being back at the hotel. You’ve given up the habit you had once hoped to cultivate and swing the door open haplessly. Truly having no idea who to expect, you are still surprised to find the man standing before you.

“Mitch.”

“We need to talk.” He stares down at you, his shoulders slumped from tiredness.

“Come in,” you usher him in when you hear the urgency of his voice. He saunters in before you and you close the door. You move to the small couch in the room and sit down. Your hands gesture for him to sit as well, but he shakes his head. He stays standing and brings a hand up to smooth his hair back on the right side. His eyes staying on the floor and flickering up to you every so often.

“What is going on with you and Harry?”

“What do you mean?”

“Oh come on Y/N. You’re seemingly best friends with him for a good portion of tour, then you’re barely on speaking terms for the second half, now you’re joking around again. What is going on?”

You sit there in a stunned silence, “I don’t know what to say.” Your arms go to hug your body, feeling anxious about being confronted about this topic.

“Were you seeing each other?” His voice is soft, eyes taking in your body language and knowing it’s a difficult topic.

“I wouldn’t put it like that…”

He holds back the ‘I knew it’ statement because of  how sullen you look, b..ut in his mind all of the pieces he had watched unfold came to fit in a perfect puzzle. He decides to sit beside you when you don’t say anything else.

“We were having sex,” it felt weird to say it out loud, no one but you and Harry had actually known, “But it ended. I don’t know what today was...but it felt different than how it’s been.”

“Why are you so sad if it was just sex?” He places a hand on your shoulder and your tear-filled eyes meet his. “Oh…” He knows why.

“I’m sorry, Y/N.” You sob at his apology because he’s not the one who should be at your door apologizing. You sniffle and lean your head into his chest. He takes you into his arms and holds you as your cries become muffled sounds in his shirt.

You cry without words for a few minutes, Mitch coos some soothing words, his voice soft and kind. He was always a good shoulder to cry on for all of your bandmates, he was extremely strong and you made a mental note to thank him thoroughly when you actually were capable of forming coherent thoughts. “I’ve never told anyone before. It feels so weird even saying it out loud,” you say as you pull back from Mitch’s embrace. You're thankful his shirt is black, no tear stains can be made out.

“Do you want to talk about it?” He asks gently, gauging your reaction. You wipe at your eyes and nod.

Taking a deep breath, you decide to start from the beginning. “Do you remember the party Charlotte had a week before we left for tour?”

Mitch nods and his eyes widen at what you’re saying as he remembers the night. “It started back then?” He’s unable to contain his incredulous question. He had suspected something, but hadn’t thought it had been going on for that long. He was truly astounded. You nod, “Well sort of,” then you go on to recount the last couple of months. All the way up until the Forum shows. “That night, when I opened Harry’s door and it was you standing there...Harry and I didn’t have anything to discuss. It was just…” Mitch nods again. He hadn’t spoken much since you had gotten into the story, wanting to let you be in charge of what you were saying and believing he could probably ask questions at the end. “Then the next night he blew me off for his date with that model and I cried in the elevator because I knew what was going to happen next.”

“So that’s when it ended?” Mitch asks when you don’t speak for a rather extended period of time.

“Yeah, the next morning he came over and I asked if they had sex and he said yes so I told him it was over.”

“But I don’t get why he went out with that model. He had told me she wasn’t his type the night before…” Your eyes shot up and looked at Mitch. His eyes widened when he realized what he said.

“What?”

“When we were talking about Canyon Moon, he mentioned that Jeff had tried to set him up with some woman but he had declined. Said he wasn’t interested. I don’t get what changed between then and the next morning.” He figured it was best to put all the cards out on the table right now. You’d be going your separate ways for a while, now that the tour was over and he had seen how unhappy both you and Harry had been over the last part of the tour.

You shift your leg to have it folded beneath you as you continue to stare at Mitch. “He came over after you and him had your meeting,”  you say quietly. Mitch hums, waiting for you to continue this time.

“He apologized for choosing you over me to talk to. Then we slept together, but we didn’t have sex...I think that’s what wigged him. It had felt too real, sleeping in the same bed with me without having sex beforehand made it feel like something more than just two people fulfilling needs.” Mitch nods and sighs heavily. He looks around the room and then back to you, taking in your full appearance. Again he feels terrible for you, how he had felt the second night at the Forum even though he hadn’t known the full story yet. “Now we’re here.”

“Tonight, it felt like he was trying,” Mitch finally said and you smiled sweetly, thinking back to Harry’s behavior. No matter how far from him you were, all those good feelings you associated with him never went away.

“Yeah, it’s been getting better. He texted me once saying he was trying. Then he came out with us one night and it almost seemed like that would be the night he’d apologize, but then he didn’t. Then we started sharing music with each other again. Then tonight… was tonight. It’s just confusing. He’s confusing.”

Mitch smiles sadly and brings you in for another hug and you’re actually so thankful he

showed up at your door. It was your first time telling anyone all of this, because Harry didn’t even know how you felt about some of these things. It felt amazing to be heard and to be told it was okay to be feeling like this.

Pulling back, Mitch says, “He’s definitely different. But his differences are what make him special and that’s why I think he clings to them even if they sometimes can hurt other people. The fact that he’s trying is a good sign. I hope he can find it in himself to make it right between you two because I had never seen either of you happier than when you were apparently together. Especially those few weeks leading up to Los Angeles. Sarah had kept asking me why Harry was so smiley back then. When I had asked him, he had just said “have you ever found something and realized you wanted to keep it with you forever?” I had no idea what he had meant, but I feel like he meant you now.”

Your awestruck at what Mitch has just told you. He was right about the first part about Harry trying to change, but the last bit, that’s what had left you speechless. You turn your body to face the rest of the room and put your chin against your hand as you think.

“Mitch...I have to go.”

He understands what you mean and you walk out of the door with him. He walks down the hall to his room and you walk quickly past the elevator and opt for the stairs. Before you know it you’re running up the stairs, taking two at a time even though you’re not the most athletically inclined. You can’t stand to wait for the elevator and your mind is racing.

You knock on the door that is Harry’s after reaching his floor. It swings open and reveals a confused and sleepy Harry. Thankfully he’s still fully dressed because that would have been a whole other problem you would have if he hadn’t been. You push past him and walk straight into his room without any invitation. He follows behind you, still unsure of why you’ve come here.

“Have you ever found something and realized you want to keep it forever?” You ask him, repeating the words Mitch had just told you.

“Pardon?”

“You told Mitch that about me before we ended things. If that’s how you felt, why didn’t you do what you said?”

Harry sighs as the words register in his mind. The memory of when he had smiled at Mitch so giddily and asked the vague question, his thoughts only of you as he asked it. The shit-eating grin he had plastered on his face after Mitch had looked at him confusedly flitted across his mind. As well as the way he had gone to his dressing room and had a quickie with you after that conversation.

“It’s not that simple…”

“It is, Harry! Why can’t you just be honest with me for once?”

“Okay, fine. You want me to be honest?” you nod at his harsh tone. The two of you standing only a few feet apart. “You have no goddamn idea what you do to me, when I’m around you, I have no control of my emotions or of my thoughts. I pushed you away because I didn’t like feeling out of control. I got out because what had started as a fun time had turned into me longing to be with you every waking hour. I found myself not caring what we did as long as I got to hold you and be around you, but that wasn’t part of the plan.”

“Plans can change, Harry.”

You step closer to him and he meets your eyes. He had left his music playing softly on his phone before he had opened the door so now as the two of you stared at each other, he must have been playing his Etta James playlist because her voice faded out of the song “I’d Rather Go Blind” and straight into “A Sunday Kind of Love”. Harry had shared her At Last album with you over the Christmas holiday of last year and you had decided to listen to her entire discography afterwards, so you knew the songs. The transition was a little too on the nose and you wondered if Spotify ever listened to your conversations.

His emerald eyes examine your face and take inventory of your features, measuring whether anything had changed since he had looked at you this close up. Your hand goes up to cup his cheek and he nuzzles into it, dropping his head closer to you ever so slightly and closing his eyes at the feeling of you.

“I am sorry,” he whispers earnestly as he reopens his eyes.

You can’t take your eyes off of him even if you tried. He looks so soft in the moment, so vulnerable in this light as the music swells in the corner of the room. Etta sings about how she needs a love that is going to last as the pair of you inch yourselves closer together.

“I forgive you, Harry,” you whisper back.

He nudges his head further down and your lips finally press together, slotting back together after months apart. Your lips are eager to press back against their favorite companion. You oblige them, but pull back for a second, just far enough to say, “I will always forgive you, so long as you tell me when you’re scared so we can work through it together.”

He nods, “I promise to never let you go again.” Before taking you back against his lips and gathering your body up in his arms. His lips missing yours just as much.

-

[ray-ray-writings]

The Blade-Technoblade

This is a Technoblade x gn!reader in the dreamsmp! I hope you enjoy!

Prompt 101 from this list!

Masterlist here

Warning: Like a few cuss words. 

Y/N is forced to face their biggest fear when it quite literally comes knocking at their front door. 

Y/N’s POV

I knew who Technoblade was. Of course I knew who Technoblade was. You would be stupid not to. Everyone had heard the rumors about the famous Blood God. The wars he fought in, the lives he’d taken, the blood he’d spilt. And all of it for fun. He did the things because he found it fun. The Blade did things for pleasure and satisfaction, not caring about the wreckage and the consequences left in his wake. He frightened just about everyone around him, no one wanting to be around him longer than necessary. Including me. 

To be honest, The Blade scared the hell out of me. 

And for a while, that was okay. I lived in the DreamSMP and The Blade was always traveling across the world. We would never meet and that was just fine with me. Or so I thought. 

Cut to Wilbur and Tommy losing the election. Schlatt somehow managed to over take the votes and actually win the presidential election of L’Manberg. And his first act? Forcing Wilbur and Tommy into exile from their own nation. 

The whole situation broke my heart. Wilbur and Tommy were my friends but as much as I wanted to stop what was happening, I couldn’t. I’m just one person and besides, Schlatt is rightfully the president, he won… fair and square. What he says, goes. 

I knew about Pogtopia though. Wilbur and Tommy’s secret nation of just the two of them as they planned a way to overthrow Schlatt. I knew Tubbo was helping them and I knew that just about everyone was on their side. I, on the other hand, chose to completely stay out of it. I didn’t want to fight. War scared me, almost as much as The Blade did. I didn’t tell Schlatt about the goings on in his own cabinet and didn’t tell Wilbur about the happenings here in L’Manberg. I completely stayed out of it. 

Well that was until it literally came knocking on my front door one day. 

I was just cleaning up around my house. Putting things away and organizing chests when there was a series of loud knocks on my front door. Furrowing my brow, I quickly shut the chest I was sorting through before making my way to the door to answer it. When I swung it open, I wished immediately that I didn’t. 

My heart stopped in my chest and my breath froze in my throat. There on my front porch, behind my front door, standing directly in front of me was the Blood God himself. Before I could even compose myself enough to speak I was being pushed to the side and the pink headed man was entering my home. “Move,” his gruff voice commanded as he brushed past me. 

I slowly turned myself to follow him as he stalked into my home. “Close the door damn it,” The Blade cursed out as he ducked into my living room. I had no choice, what was I going to do? Say no to a god?

I managed to take a gulp and unfreeze my limbs from their shocked stagnant state. I carefully closed the door before carefully walking toward the same room that the pink headed god had entered just moments ago. 

There he was.

He was still standing. Well he was pacing. Back and forth in front of my fireplace, muttering something under his breath. I had started a small fire this morning to keep me warm while I clean… that’s not important. What’s important is that there is a literal god in my living room. One I am absolutely terrified of at that. 

I carefully crept a little further in the room, trying to get a bit closer so I could hear him. “Stupid Wilbur. Not going to get caught, my ass. Stupid Tommy. You’ll be fine,” his monotone grumbled out. I was confused for a moment but then it hit me. Techno is Tommy and Wilbur’s brother. Of course they would call him for help. 

The Blade’s communicator beeped from his pocket causing him to all but rip it from its place. A loud groan escaped his lips as he angrily typed back before throwing the device against the couch causing me to flinch. The Blade must have seen this because he stopped his pacing and his head turned to me. I once again flinched under his intense stare and kept my eyes focused on the ground. 

I heard a sigh escape the man’s lips. “I’m sorry about barging in here like that. That was rather rude of me,” The Blood God’s voice filled the room. He actually sounded sorry, which was surprising. The man who brought whole villages to their knees for sport is apologizing to little ole me. 

“Why did you?” I managed to croak out shyly, “Barge in here I mean.” The Blade let out a snort of disbelief and I heard him move and sit down on my couch as he let out a deep breath. “Wilbur and Tommy convinced me to sneak into Manberg to spy. They gave me specific instructions to stay hidden and not to kill people. We need the element of surprise that I’m here fighting for Pogtopia. What they failed to mention is that Schlatt, Quackity, and Tubbo like to take walks around for meetings.” I let out a small hum, letting my eyes shift up just a little bit, taking a small step toward the couch. They do like to do that, I’m surprised Tubbo didn’t tell them that.

“So then while I was scouting out the place, I caught sight of them and they were heading straight for me. I remember Wilbur and Tommy telling me about you and your house and so when I recognized your place I figured I would hide out here for a while… Until they stop walking around,” Techno finished, looking over the back of the couch, his red eyes boring into me. 

My heart began to pound loudly in my chest. Had it been anyone else, I would not have minded. But the one person I fear more than anything? That’s a little bit of a different story. But what was I going to say? No? To a god that never hesitates to kill someone if they disrespect him? You’re joking. So I let out a deep breath, tried to relax my shoulders a little bit before nodding. “Yeah,” I squeaked out. I cleared my throat before continuing, “Yeah. That’s fine.” 

The Blood God threw a small thankful smile over his shoulder at me before turning his head back around. “Thanks, I appreciate it,” He hummed, picking up his communicator again before checking it. 

While he was distracted, I took a few more small steps forward and came to stop at the end of my couch. I didn’t want to make him or myself uncomfortable by sitting next to him on the couch, but he was in my house. The Blade must have realized this because his head turned from the small device in his hand to look at me. “You can sit down if you want. It is your house and your couch.” 

I managed to let out a small nervous giggle before carefully moving and sitting myself down on the couch. I sat perfectly straight facing forward, not letting myself relax, still quite scared. Blood God’s eyes were still on me and I heard a small chuckle escape his lips. “I won’t bite you, you know? There is no reason to be that tense. You haven’t done anything to warrant being bitten,” he told me, amusement lacing his voice. 

I cleared my throat and attempted to relax into the couch. “I’m just a little nervous. I’ve heard a lot of things about you and not all of them are good…. I’m a bit scared of you,” I admitted. I really didn’t want to offend the man but he had a right to know. 

The Blade let out a sigh as he set his commutator down before giving me his full attention. “I know that there are a lot of stories that surround my name. I know I’m the Big Bad Scary Blood God. But just like you believe those stories about me, please believe me when I say that is not all I am. The same man that drop kicked that orphan is the same man that loves farming potatoes.” 

His words caused me to freeze for just a moment before I let my head completely turn to him. “You’ve drop kicked an orphan?” I questioned incredulously. His eyes widened in a little bit of panic. “It was in self defense!” He exclaimed. Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t stop the laughter that bubbled out of my throat at his shoddy attempt at defending himself. All of the tension left my body as I keeled over myself in laughter. 

As I was laughing, I heard a deep chuckle join me in my laughter. The soft tones warmed my heart and made my laughter die down and a soft smile formed over my face. “You’re pretty funny Mr. Blood God,” you admit to the pink haired god. A soft smile of his own formed across his face. “Thanks. And please, call me Techno.” “Okay.... Techno.” 

Together on the couch, The Bla-- Techno and I got to know each other. I told him about myself and he told me about him. The real him. I learned that he did in fact love farming potatoes, and he once competed against a child to see who could grow the most potatoes… He won obviously. He also told me about his collection. How his piglin hybrid side of him has forced him to keep a hoard of all things golden and shiny. He even told me about the voices. It helped me understand just a bit more of why he does the things he does. It made me less afraid.

So much so that by the time he was ready to leave, I actually didn’t want him too. The two of us had grown a lot closer. I was no longer scared of who I knew to be The Blood God. I now knew of Techno. I knew the man behind the persona, the sweet, kind, and funny man that had very quickly stolen my heart. 

“I guess this is goodbye,” Techno claimed, scratching the back of his head as the two of us stood near my front door. The sun had finally set and the coast was completely clear, meaning Techno could safely make it out of Manberg. 

“I guess so,” I echoed, reaching up and scratching my shoulder, looking down to the ground trying to avoid his eyes. I really didn’t want him to go. Now that I had learned the Blood God wasn’t what I thought he was, I wanted to know more. I wanted to learn more about Techno. I wanted to know if this feeling that had developed in my chest was real or not. I wanted to know if I had actually fallen in love with the man I had once feared. 

The two of us stood there in uncomfortable silence for a few moments before I finally decided to break it. “I guess I was wrong about you. You’re not so bad after all,” I told him, my gaze moving from the floor to lock eyes with him. 

A warm grin overtook his face at my confession. “Yeah?” I gave him a small nod and he let out a little laugh at that. “That’s great to hear and makes me much less nervous about my next question,” Techno admitted, running his hand through his pink locks. “Hmm?” I hummed softly, trying to prompt him to ask his question. 

Techno let out a deep breath before giving me a nervous smile. “Well, I, uh… I was wondering if maybe you wanted to hang out again some time. I had a really nice time today and I would love to do it again. And maybe, if you’re up for it, it could be a… a date?” My heart melted at his words. He looked so nervous and so cute as he shyly asked me for another hang out. But maybe the next time, be a date. 

I couldn’t help the soft smile that twitched onto my lips. I took a few steps forward, carefully reaching out, and placing a soft hand against his cheek. Once I was sure that Techno was okay with the gentle contact, I carefully leaned up onto my tiptoes and slowly leaned forward, slow enough to give Techno the opportunity to pull away. He didn’t. 

Our lips met in a soft and gentle kiss, one so on the complete opposite of what I pictured the Blood God to be. It was soft and sweet, it made my eyes flutter closed and my toes curl. One of Techno’s own hands left his side and carefully cupped my own cheek, ever so gently enticing me to get closer to him. And who am I to refuse a god?

The gentle kiss was broken as the two of us parted for air. My eyes fluttered open at the same time Techno’s did. Our eyes met, causing the two of us to grin shyly at each other. The moment was soft and tender. Something I enjoyed a lot, and I could tell it affected Techno the same way.

“In case that didn’t make it obvious,” I whispered gently, not wanting to break the soft tension, “I would love to go on a date with you.” The soft grin on Techno’s face widened immensely at my words. “Yeah?” He asked, trying to get reassurance. “Yeah,” I confirmed with a wide smile painting my lips. “For real, 100%. I want to get to know you more and I would love to see you again.” 

Techno stared at me in awe for a moment before giving me a small nod. “Okay then. I will see you tomorrow then,” he claimed decidedly before carefully pulling his hand away from my face, causing me to follow suit.

“Tomorrow?” I asked, a little surprised at the soonest of it, but it’s not like I minded. “If that works for you.” I gave the man a smile and a confirming nod. “Works just fine with me.” A matching smile painted itself on his lips, mirroring mine. “Alright then. I’ll see you at the same time tomorrow.” 

Reluctantly, he reached out and grabbed the doorknob and opened my front door. Techno moved to walk out the door but just as he was about to be outside, he stopped. He turned on his heel and gave me one final warm smile. “Goodnight Y/N.” Techno stated softly, before leaning forward and pressing a quick but soft peck to my lips. I was surprised at the contact but before I could react, his lips were off mine. So instead, I gave him a warm smile in return, “Goodnight Techno.” Then he was gone. 

I let out a dreamy sigh as I closed the door behind Techno. I turned around and let myself lean backwards against the door and slide to the floor. A dreamy sigh escaped my lips as I let my fingers dance on my lips, the tingles of the sweet kiss still very present. Who knew that I would be in love with The Blade? Yes I said it, I’m in love with The Blade…. No, I'm in love with Techno. And I couldn’t be more happy about it. Gosh I can’t wait until tomorrow. 

There you have it! I hope you enjoyed! If you did, be sure to leave a like and maybe even a reply or a reblog telling me your favorite part!!!

[arotechno]

Jughead (2015), Issues 7-8: Discussion and Commentary

Boy oh boy am I excited to talk about this arc!! These two issues hold a very special place in my cold little aro heart.

(By the way, do you see that? I managed to get a digital copy from my library via Hoopla, which means you are spared from my shitty phone grabs. I’ll fix the previous post, don’t worry. Try clicking on the screenshots if tumblr blurs them. And try Hoopla, if you’ve got a library card and have been looking to read these.)

Fed up with him sitting around the house playing video games all summer, Mr. Jones forces Jughead to get out of the house and do something outside. Jughead finds Archie at the pool where he’s working as a lifeguard, and convinces him to take time off to go camping in the woods with him at their friend Dilton’s cottage.

They take Archie’s car out to the woods, only to find that the lake is overrun with Reggie’s over-the-top relatives at the Mantle family reunion. Horrified, Jughead and Archie go out on a hike to get away. This is where things go downhill—literally.

Jughead calls Archie out for his growing fixation with Veronica Lodge, whose father is the one trying to clear out Fox Forest. Archie immediately goes on the defensive, but Jughead, understandably, really doesn’t get it. And here’s where we see that this is a divide that has been brewing between them for quite some time, even if Archie seemingly had no idea it was happening.

The boys end up getting lost, which only serves to fuel their frustrations. It occurs to Jughead, some time later, that the lake they’re camping at is not that far from Camp Lucey, an all-girls summer camp. Shocked and hurt, he accuses Archie of only agreeing to go on the trip to pick up girls, and not to hang out with him. He tackles Archie and they tumble down a hill into the woods below.

This is a really interesting story, from an aro’s perspective. Jughead can’t relate to Archie’s teenage obsession with girls, and it isn’t something they can bond over like other friends may have been able to do. On a simple level, all Jughead really wants to do is hang out with his best friend, just the two of them, just like old times—back when they were younger, before Archie’s interest in girls seemed to take over his every waking moment. Importantly, Jughead never objects to Archie’s romantic pursuits on principle (he does have an issue with Veronica, but that has to do more with her father’s actions than her). It isn’t that he wants to stand in the way of Archie’s happiness—he just feels left behind, and that’s something I think a lot of aromantic people, teenagers especially, can resonate with.

Eventually, Archie and Jughead run into Mr. Weatherbee of all people, who begrudgingly offers to help lead them back to camp. It’s at this point that we get one of my favorite moments in the entire series, one that I have waxed poetic about on this blog before and probably will again.

Archie insists that he is in fact here to hang out with Jughead, and that he’s just being dramatic. Jughead, on the other hand, insists that Archie’s the one being dramatic with his love triangle problems, to which Archie replies:

“Look, I’m not going to apologize for being a normal guy, I—”

And Jughead’s reaction to those words has stuck with me since the first time I read this. He’s shocked, hurt, and clearly a little angry that Archie would say something like that. And it’s a subtle moment, one that you might not even feel the gravity of if you didn’t know that Jughead was aro. What’s most important here, though, isn’t Jughead’s reaction, but the fact that Archie is clearly in the wrong, and he knows it. He tries to backtrack immediately (“Jughead! I didn’t mean it like that! Wait!”), but Jughead ignores him, as Mr. Bee has already gotten them lost again.

This singular page is, to me, a deeper and more nuanced portrayal than many works with “on-the-page” canon aromantic characters. This arc isn’t about Jughead being aro (in fact, none of the comics particularly are). But this is a meaningful incorporation of Jughead’s orientation into his daily life and his relationships with other people—namely, with his best friend. Although Jughead is being somewhat harsh with Archie, never does the narrative place him in the wrong for feeling abandoned, hurt, or angry because of Archie’s words and actions. Even Archie, his best friend, is capable of saying things that hurt him, and his words in this scene are never excused or justified by the narrative.

It also means a lot to me that Archie apologizes the second he gets the chance to, and that Jughead is quick to forgive him and explain that he just misses the time before Archie was so obsessed with girls. I wouldn’t want the story to just turn into a feud between them. You know when you’re on a trip with your friends and you get lost and you’re tired and frustrated you just end up airing your grievances and coming out of it with a new understanding of your friendship while trying to solve the mess you’re in? That’s what this arc is.

Anyway, after a run-in with Reggie’s relative and Mr. Weatherbee’s old high school bully Ted Mantle, the trio manage to make it out of the woods—after several hours of walking until the sun has come up. There, they find that Camp Lucey has actually been renamed, and is now a camp for elementary school girls, where Betty happens to be working. So after all of that, Archie just ends up making a fool of himself, like usual. Mr. Bee’s wife drives over to rescue them and brings the boys back to Dilton’s cottage, where she remarks that she’s heard a lot about Archie and Jughead, and that they’re inseparable.

At its core, this is a story about friendship. It’s about the difficulties that come with realizing you can’t always relate to each other, and you can’t always read each other’s minds, and you sometimes say the wrong thing without meaning to. It’s a story about growing up, but not necessarily growing apart, and being able to reconcile your differences.

Archie assumes that after all of their bickering, Jughead would just want to go home and not hang out with him anymore. But turning back now would be contrary to what Jughead wanted in the first place, which was just to hang out with his best friend.

All’s well that end’s well, and Jughead and Archie patch things over and vow that they will always be best friends. It’s a wholesome moment, and reflects a common struggle for aspec teens that I rarely see addressed in media, if at all. Sometimes, it feels like your friends are all moving on without you, and sometimes they don’t even realize it when they’ve been neglecting your friendship. It takes communication to work these things out, and I’m happy to see that illustrated here.

This arc is my favorite, I think, and there’s reasons for that even outside of the aspects I’ve already detailed here. The kids getting lost in the woods on summer vacation is a fun way of framing the deeper story, and there are a lot of funny and endearing moments in these two issues. (Archie falls on his face, a lot, and Mr. Weatherbee is stoically exasperated with both of their antics.)

These are the last issues written by Chip Zdarsky. So shoutout to him for some of the most nuanced representations of aromanticism in fiction to date, even if he never wrote the word down on the page (I’ll get to that, don’t worry). But these are the first issues illustrated by Derek Charm, whose art style I love (no offense Erica Henderson), and the rest of the volume has a lot of other good aro moments in store. Until then, here’s himbo Archie:

See? Pure of heart, dumb of ass. You can’t be mad at him for long. (He falls into a hole later on the same page.)

Yeah, me too.

[usergreenpixel]

MALMAISON MEDIA SALON SOIRÉE 7: NAPOLEON (1955)

1. The Introduction

Hello, Neighbors! Welcome to the Malmaison Media Salon. Today we’re going to discuss yet another biopic about Napoleon! As if there isn’t a ton of them out there already...

Anyway, I’m talking about “Napoleon” a 1955 movie directed by Sacha Guitry, who also plays Talleyrand in it (actually he played Talleyrand twice, in two different movies). Looks like biopics about Napoleon and self-inserts go together quite well!

But, jokes aside, I first heard about this biopic while researching another movie about Napoleon (the Abel Gance’s one from 1927) for Jacobin Fiction Convention. I was unsure which review category the 1955 fits in, but I ultimately decided to do a Napoleonic review since, unlike the 1927 movie, this one barely touches on Frev so it wouldn’t make sense to call it Frev media.

So here we are. I got much luckier in my search for this movie than with the one by Abel Gance, as Guitry’s biopic can easily be found on YouTube in English, so most people in my audience shouldn’t have any trouble looking for it at all.

Personally, after a long list of failed attempts at cramming Napoleon’s life into either one movie or a short miniseries, I was a bit skeptical about the 1955 movie, but let’s take a closer look at it and see how this attempt turned out.

2. The Story

The story here consists of a series of key events in Napoleon’s life. So expect major campaigns, his time as First Consul, Frev, formative years, and so on. On paper, it sounds good, but the keywords here are “on paper”.

Unfortunately, this movie runs into a common problem. See, its length is about 2 hours yet it aims to tell as much of Napoleon’s story as possible. Yeah, good fucking luck doing that when there are just too many events to cram into a miniseries, let alone one movie!

Honestly, if you ask me, Napoleonic era and Frev are so eventful that our communities may as well do a full fucking series because that might just be the best way to portray our respective epochs without skipping over important events or rushing.

Of course, this biopic is not a series, which is why we get multiple confusing pacing issues and the story has to portray everything in a rapid fire type of way, which really didn’t allow me to get into the story or to empathize with the key characters, as there simply isn’t much time spent even on introducing them or at least telling the audience basic information!

However, I do like the creative choice of having Talleyrand of all people narrate the story. I don’t know why the idea of Talleyrand as the narrator is so funny to me, but it just is.

Moving on, as there isn’t much to add.

3. The Characters

As I said in my previous point, unfortunately most characters who aren’t Napoleon don’t get introduced or developed properly due to the rushed pacing. Also there’s too many characters which makes it hard to remember them all, especially for people who might be hearing about them for the first time.

But there are some moments I liked that are related to the characters:

- Ney promising Louis the 18th to arrest Napoleon but not doing so

- Ney and Murat commanding their own executions

- Josephine not being a bitch

- Napoleon giving Eugène the sword which belonged to Eugène’s father

- Marie Louise of Austria not wanting to marry Napoleon at first but warming up to him

These are the touches I liked. If only the characters had proper introductions that would make me care about them during those scenes...

4. The Setting

The settings are truly gorgeous, most likely due to this:

Nice! I haven’t been to the aforementioned places but those who have might be able to recognize them.

Oh, and the costumes look stunning.

5. The Acting

Honestly, I think the acting is excellent, especially on the part of the two actors who played Napoleon. I also liked Guitry as Talleyrand, but it looks like everyone did their best with the role they had.

6. The Music

Gorgeous music! I love the fact that the melody of Ça Ira (a revolutionary song) plays during the scenes showing Frev. Yay!

Unfortunately, once again, it’s not enough to make up for the rushed story.

7. The Conclusion

Well, what can I say? I think it should be obvious by now that the Napoleonic era is just too eventful for one movie. It deserves a series of its own, because otherwise we get rushed pacing, characters who aren’t given enough time to become memorable.

Here the acting, music and settings are fantastic, but the clunky story and the flat characters ruin the entire experience, wasting the potential of the final product. Which is a shame.

But, with that, let us conclude today’s soirée at the Malmaison Media Salon. Stay tuned for updates and stay safe, my dear Neighbors.

Your Neighbor,

- Citizen Green Pixel

[applerubyy]

Ciao Adios

Summary: When you find your boyfriend cheating on you yo decide to expose him in the pettiest way you can think of.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader (some Loki x Reader if you squint)

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: Cheating and cursing (I think that’s it?)

A/N: Hi! So this is my first time writing and posting anything here so if its terrible please tell me nicely :). This is some AU where everyone lives and all is happy ok? Also english is not my first language so I apologize in advance for any grammar or spelling mistakes. Anyway, if it turns out that some of you like it I think I’d be willing to do a part 2 if you like. Hope you enjoy it! <3. Btw, the gif is not mine so credit to whoever made it.

Crack. That’s the sound of your heart breaking, ripped to pieces in just a few seconds. And no, you were not exaggerating. Seeing your boyfriend kissing someone else while taking off their clothes would do that to a person. And in his office of all places.

How did you not see that coming? They had a lot in common and they did spend a lot of time together but you were just so naïve thinking that he was the most trust-worthy person ever that you looked the other way and believed him when he told you she was “just a friend”. 

Just a friend my ass you thought as you calmly walked to your room. No running, that would draw attention to you and you didn’t need that. No crying either, because once you started you wouldn’t be able to stop. Walking down the hallway and taking the elevator to your floor feels like it takes forever. 

Time is funny that way. It has that annoying tendency to slow down or speed up at the worst times. Like when you were in college and the clock seemed to literally stop, you would look at the time and it was 10:20 am and check again after what felt like half an hour for it to be 10:25 am. Or like when you are having fun with your friends at a club and you see it’s 12:30 but when you look again a few minutes later it’s 2:40. Right now it feels like the former, time seems to have slowed down. Maybe Dr. Strange did something to it? No, that’s stupid, he wouldn’t play with time that way.

Finally the elevator pings open and you rush to your room. Well, it’s not only your room anymore. You share it with him and everything is a reminder of what you just saw. The art supplies on the desk by the window, the famous shield leaning against the wall near the door, the messy bed where you sleep together every night …

And every single thing brings tears to your eyes until finally, the dam breaks and you let the tears fall down. You bring your hand to your mouth to muffle a sob that brings you to your knees. Crying is the only thing you can do right now because your brain is stuck on a loop. All you can see is Steve kissing her, unbuttoning her shirt with one hand while the other grabbed her ass. And all you can hear are their moans, Sharon’s whimper when he touched her and his groan as he did so. 

And now you are full on crying and choking on air because that scene keeps replaying itself over and over no matter how much you want it to stop. And you do, Gosh you do because there is so much your heart can take and this is too much. It shatters you in more ways than one. It makes you question everything you thought you knew about him, about her, about your relationship and about yourself.

You remember the first time you met him. You were already in college and looking for an internship. Luckily you happened to be the niece of the one and only Pepper Potts. And who wouldn’t want to work near Earth's mightiest heroes? You sure did. You were studying journalism and communications in New York and working with the Avengers was the ultimate dream, one that was about to come true.

Your first day was uneventful, it consisted mainly of coffee runs, delivering files and passing messages along. That was until your third coffee run where you ran straight into a wall, well actually it wasn’t a wall but it felt like it. The coffee spilled everywhere, on your clothes and his, and you were going to fall on your butt if it wasn’t for him grabbing your arms to steady you. Imagine your surprise when you looked up to see Captain America himself.

And that’s the moment your love story started. It seemed like something straight out of a romantic comedy and you loved it. It started with flirting, a date and then another, him asking you to be his girlfriend and finally asking you to move in once you graduated. It felt like a fairytale.

Tony wasn't very happy about you and the Capsicle but he saw how happy you were so he tried to be happy too. Tony was your uncle even if you didn’t share any blood. Growing up you would visit your aunty Pepper in New York and he was always around, you even stayed at his house when Pepper and him had to work. So, you two became really close even before he became Iron Man and started dating your aunt. 

The same thing happened with Rhody. Your close relationship with Tony meant you were close to him too, seeing as he was one of the most important people in his life. Rhody treated you like his niece and was the only one he didn’t make fun of which you took as the ultimate compliment. 

So those three you knew before you started working at the compound and before Steve. But once you started working there you met the rest of the Avengers. Being Pepper and Tony's niece and Steve's girlfriend meant they all wanted to get to know you. 

You met Bruce Banner, the Hulk, and you became really close. But that was thanks to his close relation with Tony and all the time you spent with him working on his social media presence to make sure people saw him as more than just the green monster who smashes things. After a while of working there they promoted you and now you manage the Avengers social media.

Nat and Wanda became your best friends from the moment you met. You just clicked and hung out as much as possible, being the only girls on the team meant they were really happy to have another female added to the mix. As for Vision, he liked you because Wanda did, simple as that.

Bucky and Sam were the funniest people ever, their constant bickering always brought a smile to your face and they welcomed you with open arms. Happy that their friend had finally found someone to be with.

Thor and Clint were like the fun uncles you got to see every once in a while. The God of Thunder was like an excited puppy and would hug you till you couldn’t breath every time he came to Earth and Clint would joke around with you and FaceTime you when he was with his kids because they loved you (“best babysitter ever” that called you).

You met Peter when he started working for your uncle. He was a sweet kid and your love of memes, vines and pop culture made you instant friends. He would ask you for advice on girls and tell you science jokes.

But we all know not all fairytales have a happy ending and this one definitely didn’t. You’re feeling so many things at once. There’s anger, sadness, jealousy and something else you can’t put your finger on. You keep crying and are unable to move from your kneeling position on the floor. Checking the clock you realize you’ve been on the floor crying for an hour so you stand up.

Taking a shower seems like the best thing to do, your head is pounding and your face is all puffy. As you shower it hits you, that other feeling swirling around is inevitability. In a way you always thought he was too good for you, you always thought he would eventually get tired of you and trade you for someone else. 

It just hurt too much that it was her, the woman he shared so much with. The niece of Peggy Carter, his first love. An agent of S. H. I. E. L. D.  Someone who risked their life for the world like he did. Someone prettier. Someone better than you.

Yeah, you were definitely on a self-pity party. But you needed to be miserable for a while, to cry it all out, to hurt so that you could move on to the next stage of grief: anger. And when that came, there was no stopping you.

You weren’t a mean person, or a petty one. You gave everyone countless opportunities and forgave way too easily so you never really got angry. But when you did, when you said enough is enough, yeah, you better watch out. That could be the meanest bitch you ever met and she had no mercy.

So you got out of the shower, dried yourself and started getting ready. Tony was throwing yet another party about who knows what and you were not missing it. You liked parties, they were the perfect excuse for wearing pretty dresses and putting on make up. And tonight you were going all out. 

Your inner bitch was concocting a plan and you were going with it.

You hear the door open and prepare yourself to put on the best acting of your life. You take a deep breath and in the sweetest voice you can muster say: “Steve is that you babe?”

“Yeah doll it’s me” you hear him say. A few second later he pops into the bedroom and gives you a peck on the lips as you continue with your makeup.

“How was your day?” Steve asks as he takes off his clothes, probably to take a shower. “I missed you today, i went by your office but you weren’t there” he says with a small frown between his eyes. You could stare at his blue eyes forever but snap out of it when you remember what he did. 

“Oh not much, i left work earlier to get ready for tonight” you answer. Shit your work. You really did leave like that, but after tonight hopefully they’ll understand. “You should start getting ready, the party starts in thirty minutes”.

He smiles at you and tells you he’s going to take a quick shower before getting dressed. He goes to the bathroom and you feel like breaking the mirror but instead take a few deep breaths and remind yourself he’s getting what he deserves later on. With that in mind you finish applying you makeup and smile at yourself, you look good. Moving on to your hair you decide to do some loose waves and that’s it, you really don’t know how to make those complicated updos.

Steve gets out of the shower and starts putting on his suit. Men really do have it easier you think to yourself when you see all the work you had to do and he just showers and that’s it.

You take your dress out of the closet and admire it. It really is beautiful. It has a deep plunging neckline that shows a lot of cleavage and is skin tight with a slit on one side. The fact that it is silver with sequins makes it even better. Pepper helped you pick this dress. 

You put on the dress and admire yourself in the mirror. You look good. Behind you, you hear a whistle and turn around to see Steve watching you lust in his eyes. He comes closer and grabs you by the waist, pulling you to him.

“You look stunning” he says as he wets his bottom lip. “I can’t wait to take it off of you when we get back”. Lying cheating bastard.

“Can't wait” you lie as you wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him. This is just a kiss goodbye you tell yourself. One last kiss before he’s out of your life and probably runs to her. Tears threaten to fill your eyes but you hold them down. Not now.

You break the kiss when the need to breathe is too strong. Grabbing his hand you start walking towards the door and say: “Come on, we’re already late”.

——————————————————————————

The party had already started once you walk in and in true Tony fashion it is elegant and extravagant. Everyone is there: S. H. I. E. L. D. agents, the Avengers themselves, politicians and a few famous people. 

You and Steve walk to the bar and order drinks. A whiskey for him and a strawberry daiquiri for you, yes you are that basic but hey, it tastes awesome. He offers you his arm and with drinks in your hands you start looking for your friends. A lot of people stop you on the way, nobody wants to miss an opportunity to talk to Captain America.

One thing, or rather on person, catches your attention: Loki. He’s sitting on one of the cushions alone with a drink in his hand. It’s weird to see him there. Sure, he was redeeming himself for what he did in 2012 and Thor said he was doing better but he rarely left Asgard (he “hated mortals”) and when he did come to Earth it wasn’t for a party.

As if he could feel you staring he turns his head and locks his eyes with yours. You weren’t going to lie, he was gorgeous. He was incredibly tall, had those charming green eyes and was actually funny (but you’d never admit that to anyone). But you were in love with Steve and never saw him as anything more than Thor's hot brother. And everyone in the Avengers was hot so that’s not saying much.

You turn away from him and see Nat and Wanda on the dance floor and you tell Steve you’ll see him later and to go find his friends. He’ll need them after tonight you think to yourself. You greet the girls and start dancing with them, for a moment forgetting about what you saw today and putting Loki out of your mind.

The three of you decided to take a break and order some more drinks. Once at the bar Wanda orders for you and when your drinks arrive you go back to the dance floor. You spend the next few hours dancing, talking to your friends and pretending that nothing's wrong. Talking to Steve and pretending that nothing's wrong. Hugging Steve and pretending that nothing's wrong. Kissing Steve and pretending that nothing's wrong.

The fact that Sharon is at the party doesn’t help at all. When you see her talking or touching him you feel like you’re gonna lose it but you remain strong. You remind yourself of your plan and try to keep them out of your mind.

There’s a small stage at the far end of the room and you see your uncle Tony step on it and grab the microphone.

“Hello everyone and thank you for coming to another one of my amazing parties. I hope you are having a good time and taking advantage of the free bar over there” he points to the other side of the room and continues, “Now for what we have all been waiting for: karaoke! And yes, i want everyone to sing something because that’s the whole point of this. I'm looking at you Manchurian Candidate, you’re singing”.

With that he gets off the stage and passes the mic to Sam who decided to sing a Marvin Gaye song. He’s pretty good actually but you can’t fully concentrate on him because your mind is going a thousand miles an hour for what it’s going to happen later.

More people go up and sing their songs and you applaud when they’re done. Nobody is talking much, they're all too busy either laughing at the others performance, drinking or actually listening to the songs. You’re sitting with Steve to your right, Bruce to your left and the rest of the Avengers nearby. You’re your own little group.

It’s finally your turn and as you walk to the stage you can hear your friends whistling and cheering you on. Once you’re up on the stage you choose the song and start singing. 

Ask you once, ask you twice now

There's lipstick on your collar

You say she's just a friend now

Then why don't we call her?

So you wanna go home with someone

To do all the things you used to do to me

I swear, I know you do

Used to take me out in your fancy car

And make out in the rain

And when I ring you up

Don't know where you are

'Til I hear her say your name

Used to sing along when you played guitar

That's a distant memory

Hope she treats you better than you treated me, ha

As you continue singing you get more and more confident and take the mic. You walk off the little stage and over to your friends while dancing and you can see them smiling, clapping and having fun. They have no idea how much i mean all of this you think. You look at Steve and he’s completely oblivious. Good, you want to take him by surprise. You arrive at your little circle of friends and start singing the chorus.

I'm onto you, yeah you

I'm not your number one

I saw you with her

Kissing and having fun

If you're giving her all of your money and time

I'm not gonna sit here wasting mine on you, yeah, you

Ciao adios, I'm done

Ciao adios, I'm done

Ciao adios, I'm done

You keep dancing and go back to back with Wanda who’s also singing along. You then turn to Nat and she grabs your hand and makes you do a little spin. 

After three, after four times

Why did I bother?

Tell me how many more times

Does it take to get smarter?

Don't need to deny the hurt and the lies

And all of the things you did to me

I swear, I know you did

And now you take her out in your fancy car

And make out in the rain

And when she rings you up

She know where you are

But I know differently

Now she sings along when you play guitar

Making brand new memories

Hope you treat her better than you treated me

You go up to Tony and he starts dancing around you busting out some dad moves. You laugh and keep on singing and dancing.

I'm onto you, yeah you

I'm not your number one

I saw you with her

Kissing and having fun

If you're giving her all of your money and time

I'm not gonna sit here wasting mine on you, yeah, you

Ciao adios, I'm done (I'm done)

Ciao adios, I'm done (no, no, no, no)

Ciao adios, I'm done

If you're giving her all of your money and time

I'm not gonna sit here wasting mine on you, yeah, you

Ciao adios, I'm done

And now you take her out in your fancy car

And make out in the rain

And when she rings you up

She know where you are

But I know differently

Now she sings along when you play guitar

Making brand new memories

Hope you treat her better than you treated me

You walk back to the stage as you sing and step up. You put the mic back into place and sing the last part of the song.

I'm onto you, yeah you

I'm not your number one

I saw you with her (with her)

Kissing and having fun (and fun)

If you're giving her all of your money and time

I'm not gonna sit here wasting mine on you, yeah, you

Ciao adios, I'm done (I'm done)

Ciao adios, I'm done (you get on with your life, I'll get on with my life)

Ciao adios, I'm done

If you're giving her all of your money and time

I'm not gonna sit here wasting mine on you, yeah, you

Ciao adios, I'm done

When you’re done people are clapping and cheering and you look to your friends to see them all smiling. You look at everyone and make a little mock bow and when you straighten you see Loki sitting on the same couch as before. But this time he’s looking at you and he’s laughing, not smiling and cheering but actually laughing.

You look back at your friends and say “Thank you, thank you” with a smile on your face. You continue , “I wanted to dedicate this song to my boyfriend Steve” you point at him.

“In case it wasn’t clear enough, i wanted to tell you that i saw you with Sharon”. You could hear a pin drop. No one was talking and all eyes were on you. This is what you wanted, to humiliate him as much as he did you. And what better way to do it than publicly? Oh but you weren’t done.

You could see Steve's face going pale and nobody knew where to look, if at you or at him. Tony look ready to murder him as did Rhody, Pepper, Peter and Bruce. Thor, Clint and Vision looked shocked. But Bucky, Sam, Nat and Wanda looked guilty.

Your heart breaks a little more when you realize they knew. You can’t really blame Bucky and Sam for not telling you, they were Steve's friends after all. But you thought the girls were your friends, that they would have told you. Apparently you overestimated that friendship.

You keep on smiling and continue “So… I’m breaking up with you. Hope she was a good fuck and wasn’t uncomfortable with the fact that you were once in love with her aunt”. You do a dramatic pause and make a little disgusted face. “Anyway, if I’m lucky i´ll never see you again. Have a great life!”

And with that, you walk off the stage and make your way to your friends. Steve is rooted to the spot and his face is red with embarrassment. You walk up to him, look him straight in the eye and give him an evil smile. He gulps and opens his mouth as if he’s about to say something and then closes it. He does is two more times and still nothing comes out.

You turn to your group and look at Wand and Nat, who can’t seem to be able to look you in the eye. You sigh and say: “Who want enemies when they can have you as their best friends right?”. They look up then and start talking. Telling you how sorry they are and to please forgive them. You raise your hand to silence them and they do.

You go to your aunt and uncle who look like there should be smoke coming out of their ears and say: “I’m gonna stay in a hotel for the night, can’t stand to be here anymore”. Tony scrunches his eyebrows and look at you like you’re crazy.

“Hell no. You’re staying here. We can find him another room to sleep in but you’re not leaving. If anyone’s leaving is Mr. Star-spangled over there” he practically screams the last part as he points at Steve.  

You take a deep breath and hug him. It takes him by surprise but he puts his arms around you. “I appreciate it uncle Tony but i can’t stay at the compound, it just hurts too much” you say as you let go. Turning to your aunt you hug her as well and say: “Thank you for everything but I quit”.

The moment those words leave your mouth everyone starts talking at the same time telling you how crazy you are and to think about it. You just smile at them and tell them you already made up your mind. “I'm gonna go pack a bag and ask Happy to take me to a hotel nearby. Please make sure he doesn’t follow” you say as you point to a still red-faced Captain America. 

With that you turn around and leave. The room is silent for a few seconds before you hear your friends all screaming at Steve. You look around for a second and notice that Loki is staring at you with a smirk on his face. When you look him in the eye he raises his glass at you ant takes a sip. 

You give him a small smile and walk through the doors towards the elevator.  

[seyenna]

Philza and/or Techno and/or Ranboo fic recs

just some of my fav dsmp fics, mainly phil, techno or ranboo bc i’m biased but also a bunch of sbi and others

this one goes out mainly to zablr discord my beloved

pls tell me if the links don’t work

all of these are on ao3

rating\status(complete/ongoing)\warnings\word count\misc tags

ichor flows free amongst the iron by summer_rising

T\o\violence\13k\series\gods AU

Summary:

A gods and goddesses AU of the Dream SMP, dramatized for all our benefits.

First work:

  "Two gods meeting on a mountaintop overlooking the stormy sea? Very classy, Dream, I appreciate your taste."

  Dream didn't turn to look at him, but the faint shake of his shoulders let Techno know he had heard.

  "Scar's healing up nicely, I see," Techno mumbled with a light nod of his head.

  "Mhm. Cut nice and clean. Not that I expected any less from you, of course."

   ~~

   The god of power and the god of luck meet on a mountaintop to discuss Luck's standing in the ongoing political disaster.

We're Only Young by ImperialKatwala

G\o\-\66k\series\Dream & Technoblade

It's easy to forget amid the chaos and bloodshed how similar - and how young - Dream and Technoblade really are.

And when the sun comes up, you'll find a brand new god. by SkyboxZoo

M\o\violence\19k\gods AU

Summary:

The wounds from the fight had healed nigh instantly, but the golden blood still soaked Techno’s shirt. His cloak had gotten torn off and his hair had fallen out of its pony-tail. Ichor pooled in his boots. The man left a trail of golden, bloody footprints in his wake.

old gods (new gods) by WriterWinged

T\o\-\9k\series\gods AU

Summary of first work:

Survival, Blood, Madness. Philza, Technoblade, Wilbur Soot. Three gods who have never cared for mortal life, who play with them when they want to, who kill their toys just as easily. How, then, did a mortal end up in their hands?

This House Is A Fucking Nightmare by SilverWing15

T\c\-\17k\series\sbi

Summary:

AU Where Phil isn't quite as willing to stand by while his sons drop like flies

Summary of third part (my fav):

Does lingering too long in the shadow of a god make you a god? The voices in his head seem to think so.

His brothers know he's older than them but they don't know how much

OR: Technoblade doesn't think his brothers realize how different they are from ordinary men. After all, ordinary men may fight the gods, but they don't win.

It's been a long day. by BecausePlot

G\c\-\3k\Philza & Ranboo

Summary:

Sides are bad: he knows that much. He’s seen it tear people apart time and time again, so when he decided to separate himself from Tubbo and keep his distance, he knew he was in the right.

Well. He thought he was in the right, at the time. Sitting all by himself on the steps to the Prime Path, he’s not so sure anymore.

Yes, the sides might have torn the others apart, might have made them so weak that they have no choice but to fold under Dream’s hand, but at least they aren’t lonely.

So are sides bad?

‘I don’t know.’

~*~

Or, Ranboo looks out at the ruins of L'Manburg, feeling more lost and lonely than he ever has.

But, as he soon finds, he's not as alone as he thinks.

the voices in my head, they say a lot of things by rosyasteria

-\c\violence\1k\Technoblade-centric

Summary:

Some days the voices didn’t listen. They didn’t let up. They screamed instead of whispered, relentless, assaulting his ears until they bled.

tell them i was the warmest place you knew and you turned me cold by rosyasteria

-\c\-\2k\Techonblade-centric

Summary:        

Technoblade cared. But in the end it just fucked him over.

For the majority of his life, Techno felt like less of a companion, less of a family member, and more like a weapon to be wielded. 'The Blade' they called him; never 'friend'.

It Leaves Little Time for Anything Else by mirandible

M\c\-\1k\part of series\Dream & Technoblade

Summary:

   A young man aims for the top, but fate has other plans for him. So does Technoblade, apparently.

   (Or: answering the question of “Why does Techno hide his scars if they’re supposed to be some sort of trophy? Why keep your point of pride a secret?”)

the best requiem is a bar of silence (and I'll sing it, even if I must hold back my tears) by jello12451

T\o\-\10k\Philza & Technoblade

Summary:

   He can’t help the noise of celebration that escapes him. Techno- this means that Techno’s free, and he got his horse back, and everything is alright-

  Tubbo, filled with rage at Phil’s cheers, turns and impulsively shoots an arrow.

   He doesn’t expect to hit his target.

---

  Alternatively: What if Phil didn't have a bucket of water when Tubbo shot him?

Change fate by being aggressively kind by sircantus

T\o\-\13k\sbi, Philza-centric

Summary:

   “You do understand that you’re caring for the thing meant to bring destruction and chaos to our world, right?” The woman asks, Phil looking behind him fondly as Techno grabs at the ends of his wings.

   “He’s just a child.” Phil answers distractedly, humming as his wings get gently yanked at.

   “He’s the first of three to destroy life as we know it! Shouldn’t we, well, get rid of him?!”

   “Oh, no.” Phil raises his eyes with a sharp glare. “Believe me, I have my own way of preventing the apocalypse.”

   ---

   Or, Techno, Wilbur, and Tommy are basically chaotic forces of nature, destined from birth to end the world and bring destruction. Most who hear of the tale of them are trying their best to track them down, and to end the monsters while they’re still young, still just children.

   Phil has a different plan.

   (In which Phil raises the minecraft equivalents of the anti-christ with love and support, so much so to the point where the world ending is really just a funny thought, and Phil has three kids who casually have powers that are bit more extreme than anything else in the world)

I promised you that everything would be fine by findingkairos

G\c\-\6k\Technoblade-centric

Summary:

   manifestation: (n.)

1.     an event, action, or object that clearly shows or embodies something abstract or theoretical;

2.     a version or incarnation of something or someone;

3.     an appearance of a ghost or spirit;

4.     the Blood God.

When he's young and still alone, still establishing his reputation as the immortal warrior, Technoblade makes up an imaginary friend.

Years later, the blood god is very real and very much a god: one that is prepared to do anything for their first and only friend.

the inner mechanism of a black box by Bee_4

T\c\violence, self-harm\Technoblade-centric

Summary:

   Technoblade lets himself get imprisoned for Philza’s sake. He doesn’t plan on being there long. Unfortunately, he’s underestimated Pandora’s Vault.

   There are things that will make even the Blade fall apart in due time, as it turns out.

carry all my sins by BananasofThorns

T\c\-\4k\Ranboo-centric

Summary:

Ranboo swallows. “All my armor and weapons and stuff are missing. Fundy and I were gonna go looking for them after the festival, I think.”

“I see.” Tubbo smiles again, but this time it doesn’t reach his eyes. “Well, I’m sure it’ll be fine, it’s just a festival. We could probably find someone to lend you a sword or an axe or something.”

He starts towards the stage, waving at people when they call his name, and Ranboo follows. The original panic has dulled to a cold buzz in his chest, but apprehension still wraps itself around his body like chains. He doesn’t like being without his armor and tools; he feels too exposed, and if something happens, he’ll be helpless.

“Ranboo?” Tubbo calls, glancing back.

Ranboo shakes his head and hurries to catch up. “Yeah, it’ll be fine,” he repeats. “Everything’s gonna be fine."

Tubbo grins. “That’s the spirit.”

Rule 5: be loyal. L'manberg doesn't do well with supposed traitors. Ranboo deals with the consequences.

Sojourn by Lacy_Star

T\o\-\13k\Ranboo & Technoblade & Philza

Summary:

“Well…” Ranboo started slowly, “You see, uh… I kinda… don’t have a house anymore, obviously. Um… Phil found me in—“ He paused, cutting himself off and squinting at the floorboards— very discreet, “Phil… found me. And… um… He said I could stay by you guys. Like, um, by the dog house he wants to build?” He paused, then began to ramble, “But, uh, if you don’t want me here, I understand— and I’m sorry for coming in your house when you weren’t here, I swear I didn’t touch anything— it was just cold outside and—“

Techno just stared at him. And how, how was this the second time this had happened to him? How was this the second time he returned home after battle to discover an injured teenage boy waiting for him, seeking assistance with nowhere to go? And how badly had that ended last time, in nothing but betrayal and insults?

---

AKA: Phil drags a half-enderman home after Doomsday, and Techno decides that they can keep it. For now.

can an axe count as rent? by aboutfivebees

T\c\-\4k\Ranboo & Technoblade & Philza

Summary:

Ranboo’s struggling to settle into his new life on the Arctic Anarchist Commune, but at least he’s got bread.

or the struggles of an enderman hybrid to come up with a housewarming gift to give to his friends, who are just trying to adopt him

The Caged Bird Sings of Freedom by StarPrince_Punk

T\o\-\25k\Ranboo & Technoblade & Philza

Summary:

The Blade's stance was still tense, his body prepared to fight at a moment’s notice if need be. “What’s your name?” Phil asked “My… name?” The Blade asked. “Yeah. Your name isn’t actually The Blade, right? That’s like a stage name?” Phil tried to keep his tone light. “What’s your real name?” The Blade hesitated. “No one… No one’s called me by my name in a long time.” ------- When Phil comes across Ranboo in his panic room after L'Manberg's destruction, it reminds him of when he first met Technoblade. And just like when he met Techno, Phil's first instinct is that he has to help this kid. While living together, Techno and Ranboo learn that they're much more similar than they had previously thought, and Phil learns that it's not too late for him to be a better dad.

This already feels like more of a home by H3118ENDER

T\o\violence, death\18k\Ranboo & Technoblade & Philza

Summary:

As the ashes of L'Manberg settle the conflict continues to come to life setting the stage for a new wave of blood shed. Stuck slam in the middle of past and present friends Ranboo is coming to learn that even without nations to their names feelings and feuds don't die but people, people do.

A Shadow of a Shadow by unappetizingegg

T\c\-\4k\ Ranboo & Technoblade & Philza

Summary:

There were a few beats of silence, and then- “What are your plans, now? Do you need a place to stay?”

That caught him off guard. Surely he’d heard incorrectly. Phil was offering him a home, right after he’d orchestrated the destruction of his past one? It didn’t make any sense, none of it did. Why would Phil say that?

Then he remembered, he remembered Techno stopping him in the fight. He remembered being handed his book, the question in Techno’s gaze. He swore, in that moment, Technoblade, the Technoblade, had been worried about him. He remembered that he had been told to leave, to run, to get away and preserve himself. He had spared him, he remembered that Techno had spared him.

Techno had helped him. Phil had tried to protect him, to get him away from the danger.

They were there for him.

 ---

alternatively:

Ranboo is alone. But he really isn't.

Meritocracy by oddsbodkins

G\o\-\18k\Dream & Technoblade, sbi, medieval AU

Summary:

Dream is more successful than he'd ever imagined - but there's one thing that's been bothering him. Technoblade, his biggest rival, the Acolyte of the Blood God and King of the Arena, went missing last spring, just before Dream got the chance to duel him. Without that one achievement to pave his way, all the following victories have felt cheap.

So, Dream hired some goons to dig Technoblade up and pester him into coming back to the Capitol, for one last showdown. Easy enough, right?

Interlude I: "Promises to Keep" by Ozzyyy

T\c\-\1k\part of a series\Technoblade & Philza

Summary:

These woods are lovely, dark, and deep But I have promises to keep

And miles to go before I sleep And miles to go before I sleep.

--

Techno has a plan. It's crazy. It's insane, it's actually just batshit bonkers. But if chaos cannot be enjoyed together, then what's it worth, yeah? There's a certain beauty in watching the world burn from the center of the flames. Phil intends to be there.

I Don't Want To Start A Fight (wouldn't you rather start a riot?) by KryOnBlock

T\c\violence, death\15k\Technoblade & Philza & Ranboo

Summary:

An universal ping rang out from behind him, the third and final he knew, and Phil sobbed, clutching the body tighter.

Techno didn’t move.

It always has been Technoblade and Philza, Philza and Technoblade. Take on half, and you shall never go back.

Sheltered by Lulatic

G\c\-\6k\Ranboo & Technoblade

Summary:

It was cold outside. But Techno never heard Ranboo complain.

That was the best excuse he could muster to keep him out.

Antarctic Princes 'verse by BirchWrites

T\o\-\15k\series\sbi

Summary:

Loosely-connected one shots set in an AU where the Antarctic Empire and the Dream SMP are in the same world. Ordered chronologically, but each fic can be read as a standalone thing

Summary of first part:

Oh shit. Forget arrested; Dream’s going to have to tell Wilbur that he watched Tommy get stabbed for being terminally stupid.

May we cross paths again by QueenLunaFreed

G\c\-\1k\Dream & Technoblade

Summary:

“Even if tomorrow it’s just us versus the entire server, Dream, I’m telling you right now - I have confidence.”

---

Dream couldn’t comprehend the pacing contradiction in front of him, the weakness he could clearly see, but would never comment on. Because this man has been defying Dream's expectations since they first met, because despite them not being friends and having no reason to trust each other, Dream knew that Technoblade is the only person who he’d trust to do this right. To destroy L'Manberg alongside him yet again, this time for real.

leave me your starlight by findingkairos

T\o\-\18k\Technoblade & Philza

Summary:

For you the world, Phil.

Once upon a time, Philza Minecraft is the only person who does not shy away from the bloody teen that regularly turns the tide of war.

This cements a friendship that will last wars, empires, worlds, and lifetimes.

 ---

(Featuring: Back to Back Badasses, healthy relationships, accidental deification, intentional world domination, and Phil's past coming back to haunt his best friend.)