#what the shit are these tabs why does it look like this send help

[moonlight-at-dawn]

I haven't viewed Tumblr on an actual computer in god knows how long what the FUCK is happening here

[inkskinned]

it's just that there's a few more steps you have to take that other people don't have to take, but they don't see the steps, so they think you should be able to hop from moment to moment, a chickadee.

it isn't getting out of bed. it is the weight, the hook in your chest, the anchor. you have to move the anchor first. you have to silence your alarm, but your phone is in your hand, which means now you have to put the phone down, which is too-hard. you get stuck in there for a while, the white screen, mindlessly scrolling. you don't even like this activity, have tried a few other options but - here you are, and time is passing.

you've googled iron deficiency causes depression and if i drink enough water does it help with mental illness and anxiety but no caffiene within the last two weeks, like how you googled am i gay quiz at 17.

it isn't just calling the doctor back, it's the anxiety, it's these little moths in your lung cavities, furious and fluttering. you need to figure out how to capture your fingers from between their nervous bodies. you are an adult, you can say the words yes hi, i'm calling because i need - but you need to practice first. maybe write it down because what if you misspeak, wouldn't that be embarrassing. write it down, but you need to find a pen first. well, actually, your desk is kind of messy. you should get a new pen. you should get a new organizational system. you should try journaling.

your grades in school were always strange. the way teachers would say things like it feels like you're not trying. you could touch stars in the stuff you cared about. well, sometimes. god be willing. homework average zero. oops! your english teacher's wrinkled brow: i know you know this stuff. what the fuck are you doing?

it isn't the showering, it's the mirror before the shower and the soft horrible pull of your naked physique. you have to avoid eye contact completely or else it'll be 93 minutes later and you'll have picked at your skin until every little pore is bleeding. you have to stand up but standing is tiring and also you should have remembered to buy more soap but you never remember anything. maybe get out of the shower and while it's still running and you're still dripping wet, use your phone to take a note. make a note to get your groceries. let the shower run while you stand half-in half-out and get lost in your phone for a moment. come back out when the water runs cold and now you have to sprint to get ready.

your grandmother's frown. you're just being lazy. protestant work ethics in a house that isn't even protestant. she says she just learned different but she means learned better, doesn't she.

it's not that you can't send the email, it's that your hands have been hurting lately and the desk really is messy and also why the fuck would you even care about this thing? doesn't everyone else feel like they're drowning? hi brendon thanks so much for sending! will review and get back to you shortly. but now you're on the internet, close the tab with tumblr on it. go on, close it. feel the little soft vapor of boredom come up and over your eyeteeth and make everything overwhelming and itchy.

literally all you have to do is put on shoes to go outside. you're literally already dressed, that's the hard part of this whole thing. literally just put the shoes on. just... do it! do it! this shit is easy!

it's literally that easy. just stop taking all those stupid invisible steps. stop following your strange made-up rules. times like this, even you're positive you're faking. you just don't want to bother with the cleaning and the cooking and the being-an-adult.

but then - shouldn't you be able to put these stupid shoes on? nobody's even looking. go on kid. life is out there! just take the leap!

get moving.

[cloudystevie]

omg I used to be such a Steve girly when I first followed u and now I’m more a Bucky gal so I’m glad to hear u like him too🥹 any crumbs of the jealous/protective Bucky trope would be sufficient 🙏🏼

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warnings: sleazy stupid pervy man(not bucky obvi), petname (baby), asyphxiation, reader is more horned up for bucky than she cares about stupid sleazy man sorry, manhandling, pinv, semi-public sex (in a locked club bathroom)

author’s note: clearly idk what drabble means cuz this is 1500 words. trying to figure out the flow of writing drabbles (and just writing in general this is not my best work) ! the steve girlie to bucky girlie pipeline needs to be studied tbh!!! thank you so much for sending in this little thought baby hope you enjoy!!!🩷🩷🩷

18+ only minors dni.

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“I’ll be back in a second baby, just need to use the restroom real quick.”

You attempt to shuffle off Bucky’s lap, surrounded by all your closest friends at a circular booth at one of the newest clubs in the city. But before you can completely wriggle yourself free of his grip, his hands flex on your waist halting your movements. “I’ll come with you sweetheart.”

You giggle and playfully roll your eyes, “I’m not going to die in the 20 steps it takes to get to the washroom Bucky, I’ll be back in a sec.” You place a quick kiss on his bearded cheek and squirm out of his lap before making your way to the washroom, looking at him over your shoulder and giggling as he glares at you.

Currently, you were in the midst of working up your brooding boyfriend so he would take out all of his frustration on you in the most delicious way possible. Being a little bratty was just a little investment for the incredibly rewarding return you’d get later on.

Surprisingly the washrooms were unoccupied so you were in and out in just a few minutes, powdering your face and touching up your lips while you were at it. Giving yourself a once over in the extravagant mirror you head out of the washroom, swinging the door open and attempting to put your lip liner and lip oil back into your purse. You accidentally bump into someone, causing you to shoot your neck up and let out a flurry of apologies as you see their drink now splattered on their shirt.

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry I didn’t see you coming. I’m so so so sorry I should’ve been paying more attention. I’m so sorry about your shirt.” Furrowing your eyebrows in concern you take in the man before you. He was a bit taller than you, dirty blonde hair all ruffled up with green eyes just scanning your body with an appreciative smirk. You couldn’t help but feel uncomfortable despite your apologetic gaze as you subconsciously search for Bucky, glancing around the suddenly very packed VIP section.

“It’s alright sugar, wasn’t planning on stripping naked so early into the night but if that’s what you want, who am I to deny you huh?” His voice attempts to be sultry but it just comes across as sleazy, making you grimace and chuckle curtly.

“That really wasn’t my intention, I’m really sorry once again. You can ask the bartender to put a drink on my boyfriend's tab. Just for the inconvenience of course.” A smile that doesn’t meet your eyes is on your face, as you continue looking around for your table of friends, for anybody you may know to save you from this slimy piece of shit.

“Boyfriend huh? Does your boyfriend know you bump into other guys dressed like a little slut?” He steps closer to you making you take a step back. It’s too crowded for anyone to take notice of you specifically and the music is too loud for you to scream and cause a scene.

“Excuse me?” Your voice comes out as strong as you had hoped.

“You heard me, now, what are we gonna do about making this up to me huh? Why don’t you follow me.” He roughly grabs your arm and you attempt to jerk it out of his grip.

“Don’t fucking touch me.” You spit out, yanking your arm out of his sweaty grip and shoving him back, causing him to stumble backwards and almost land flat on his ass. This causes a commotion as the people around you stare at the scene unfolding in front of them.

One second you’re trying to shove past the man to get to your table and the next he’s forcing himself onto you again with much more force this time. Before you can even react he’s being ripped off of you and shoved to the floor by your boyfriend who seemingly appeared right when you needed him most.

Bucky pushes his forearm into the man’s throat, making him struggle for breath and weakly fight back, but he is no match for your super-soldier boyfriend. “You wanna go around putting your fucking hands on women is that right? On my girl?” Bucky seethes, eyes wide with anger as the man struggles to shake his head to deny his words.

Everyone has their eyes on you as your group of friends quickly cut through the crowd to get to both of you, Steve and Sam trying to gently pull Bucky off the guy as Natasha and Wanda come to your aid, standing by you and asking what happened, trying to soothe your thumping heart.

You can’t focus on anything except the way Bucky is holding this man down for you. “Don’t let me catch you even breathing in her direction again you piece of shit. Tryna put your fuckin’ hands on my girl, I’ll fuckin’ k-”

You breathe out his name once. Bucky snaps his head away from the man whose colour is draining out of his face to take in your expression. Bucky can read you even better than you can read yourself sometimes. He can see you are obviously upset but even more than that, your eyes are scanning over his shoulders and biceps, his beefy frame easily overpowering the frail man.

Bucky can read you better than anyone else, and right now, you’re not scared or uncomfortable. You’re turned on. The quick rise and fall of your chest, the twinkle in your eyes, and the way you tug at your bottom lip. He even knows you’re ashamed that you’re turned on. But that doesn’t stop you. It never has.

Bucky smirks, and grabs the man by his neck, standing up with him as his legs weakly kick in the air, wheezing out unintelligible apologies and Bucky just looks at you over his shoulder, ignoring the way Steve and Sam are struggling to get him to put the man down. The veins in his arms make you practically drool as you make eye contact with Bucky, and the next moment the man is crumpled on the ground. The man scurries away, clutching at his throat where bruises are already starting to appear. Calling Bucky crazy and how you weren’t even worth it. Bucky pays him no mind because now his attention is all on you.

“You okay baby?” Bucky asks as he walks towards you, pulling you into his broad frame as he scans you with a worried expression. You nod mindlessly and before you know it you’re being ushered into the restroom you just came out of. Bucky locks the door behind him and before you can breathe you’re on him. Your lips clash against his, your tongues and teeth and spit mixing as your hands grip onto his shoulders as he picks you up and places you on the counter in one fluid motion. The display of strength makes you mewl into the kiss as you rut against his growing bulge making him hiss.

“Bucky- Bucky please I need you right now.” You beg, reluctantly pulling away from the heated kiss to look at him with your wide eyes. He looks at you through his hooded eyes, taking in your desperation before smirking. “What does my baby need hmm?”

His teasing makes you whine as you messily grind your crotch against his, looking for any friction. “Need you Bucky, need you only you need you to fuck me.” You blabber mindlessly, begging for him to claim you. Your words make Bucky groan and his hands wrap around your throat to hold you in place against him.

“Need me to remind you who you belong to? Is that it? You’re my girl aren’t you?” He growls against your mouth, biting your bottom lip and nipping at your sensitive skin.

You whine and nod as his hands wrap around you the same way they were wrapped around the man earlier. You moan as he sucks into the sweet spot behind your ear. “Yea- Yes need you to fuck me so good so that everyone can hear us please Bucky. Please, need everyone to know I’m yours and you're mine.” You’re not even sure if your words make sense.

But Bucky understands. He always does.

So he squeezes his hands around your neck just once, watching the hazy smile take over your feature, before quickly manhandling you so you’re bent over the counter, your eyes meeting his through the mirror. You push your hips back against his once and he wraps his forearm around your neck to pull you up, fiddling with his pants and shoving your panties to the side before filling you up in one thrust. He slides in easily due to how wet you were but his girth always creates a delicious stretch and you cry out at the feeling of being full. Your head lulls back to fall onto his sturdy shoulder and he tuts, tapping your cheek with his free hand before squishing your cheeks together and forcing you to look at the two of you.

He leans into your ear, feeling the shiver that wracks your body and he presses his open mouth against your cheek, his breath more prominent than your own. “Don’t you fucking dare look away from the mirror. You’re gonna watch yourself while I fuck you so you’ll always remember what you look like where you belong. Going dumb on my dick.”

[ms-demeanor]

If Firefox is ~so good~ then why does it eat half my CPU when all I have installed is an adblocker everyone says to install (Ublock or Adblock Plus) and run like shit

IDK if it's taking half your CPU maybe your OS is bad at distributing resources and you should try running linux.

Okay that was the shitty/snarky answer because anon's bad attitude warranted it.

Real answers:

Possibly your computer really does need an upgrade of some kind; Firefox works great on my computer with an i5-11th gen processor and 20GB of RAM, but it (and let's be real probably everything else) is going to run like shit on a computer with a Core 2 Duo and 4GB of RAM. If your computer is old or underpowered and *everything* is slow, legitimately installing a lightweight linux distro might seriously improve your computing experience. And if you're attempting to run any Windows or Mac OS released in the last 5 years 8GB is going to be the absolute minimum RAM you need to comfortably use the internet, so if you're using a 10-year old computer with 4GB in it, consider adding RAM.

It depends on what you're doing. If you look at comparisons of various browsers some have better performance in some tests than in others, and there's no 100% consensus on what is the fastest. Besides, the people yelling about firefox tend to be yelling about privacy and tracking MUCH more than they are yelling about performance, but you're the only one who can determine whether privacy or performance matters more to you. However, be aware that there's no clear winner between the two in terms of speed. Every other review you click on will have a different answer and different outcomes on speed tests, which indicates that their performance is probably pretty similar (notably, Edge can be faster than both, but you probably don't want to use Edge, right? Like does it actually matter if it's faster if it's not customizable and force-feeds you ads while sending data to Microsoft?).

Your performance might be significantly improved with an extension. Plenty of people complain that if it only works with extensions that it doesn't actually work, but those people are ignoring the fact that people like having control over their internet experience. You brought up Adblock Plus and Ublock Origin - I have a very strong preference for Ublock Origin over Adblock Plus and if Adblock Plus came with a browser but prevented me from using Ublock Origin I wouldn't want to use that browser. So I think that having and testing a variety of extensions to find what works for you is probably the best way of approaching any browser. If Firefox is eating all your CPU (weird; that is not the resource it tends to consume) or RAM (which is the resource it tends to consume) I'd say to try either OneTab, which saves your tabs as a list so you don't have ton of tabs open consuming resources, or try Auto Tab Discard, which sleeps tabs on a schedule that you set and makes exceptions for active media or unfilled forms as you choose.

You might have a bad install - it happens! Sometimes things are fucky and you're having problems and uninstalling then reinstalling the browser will fix it.

But Firefox works, and works well, for millions of people. It's really odd to decide that all of those people are making shit up (for some reason) and that firefox is bad actually instead of doing some troubleshooting with your environment to figure out what's going on - especially when there are *so many* resources out there to help you figure out where the problem might be.

[discworld-heritage-posts]

What do you think you add? Do you think you make a poignant post better when after scrolling down through it we see someone saying it's "official"?

I'm choosing to interpret this ask as a genuine question (albeit one that's been worded a bit rudely) instead of a hate anon, because I wouldn't want to tarnish people's dashboards with hate anons.

Now, to answer your genuine question... The "Discworld Heritage Post" tagline I add to the end of posts has as much validity as I have authority to bestow it: none. Do I think my tagline makes posts better? Of course not! And I certainly don't think I make them official, (and neither my url or my pinned post claim that I do so).

I don't know what reasons other people had to start their own Heritage Posts blogs for other fandoms, but I will gladly tell you mine: I got into Discworld. I discovered the Discworld fandom in Tumblr. And, one day, while scrolling down some Discworld related tags, the idea just popped into my head. After checking that there wasn't a Discworld Heritage Posts blog already, I decided to make one.

I personally follow a few Heritage Posts blogs, and my reason to do so is probably the same as to why many people follow this blog: I wanted to see that kind of content. Tracking tags and being up to date on the most popular posts of a fandom is doable, but doing so for the dozens upon dozens of media I'm into is impossible, so I like to follow some Heritage Posts blogs to get some of those posts directly into my dashboard (it's also worth mentioning that sometimes, some iconic posts are made when people comment stuff on them, and those don't appear in the search tags, so following blogs that post about a certain fandom is the best way to come across some of those collaborative posts, because otherwise you'd rarely get to see them). So yes, I created a blog that, had it already existed, I would have liked to follow. Also, while other blogs with this gimmick usually limit themselves to reblogging, let's call them the "greatest hits", I've said since the beginning that I didn't care about how many notes something had. Be it cool art or a funny or insightful post, if I like it, I send it to my drafts.

However, none of those reasons are the main reason why I made this blog. The main reason is that I did it for myself. After exhausting all the content that showed up in the Popular Posts tab, I couldn't help but think of all the gold and treasure that wasn't there, buried and hidden due to the way Tumblr's search engine works. If you're familiar with the Discworld concept of "lies-to-children", that's what the "top posts of all time" is in Tumblr. A 20k post from 2016 will not be there, but a six month old post with 400 notes will show up. Surely there had been amazing Discworld posts and art posted in 2015 and 2013, but I wasn't going to find most of them unless I expressly went looking for them. And this blog was the perfect excuse to do so. As of replying to this ask, there's nearly 600 posts sitting in my drafts, and if I didn't have this blog I would have never discovered 90% of them. And those are the ones I've seen. I still have dozens of places I haven't searched.

I know that if I reblog a month old post with over 2k notes, a lot of people in the fandom will have already seen it. However, a 2k notes post from 2014, or a drawing with 40 notes from 2012 is something that is less likely to have hit people's dashes recently, or at all. When you come across the "Discworld Heritage Post" tagline in a post, please don't picture me as an uppity monarch performing the Tumblr equivalent of a knighting ceremony, or a stuffy museum curator deigning a piece worthy of being included in an exhibition. Picture me as a kid enthusiastically jumping and flailing my arms around while yelling "holy shit guys check out what I just found!!", because that's how I feel running this blog.

Ultimately, whether one of my posts does better or worse is indifferent to me, because they aren't my posts, or memes, or drawings. I'm just the intermediary. That being said, of course it's not indifferent to me, because more engagement means that was a post many people hadn't seen before, or had forgotten about, and one of my goals was to run a blog that would allow people to find those hidden or long forgotten gems.

When all is said and done, Heritage Post blogs are just another one of Tumblr's gimmicks. If we're not your cup of tea, you're free to ignore or block us. If you want to reblog something and don't want the tagline, you can reblog it directly from OP (or from another reblog if OP has deactivated their account).

[choco-bloop]

HC characters as random quotes from my friends.

Xisuma: So, in trying to get you to pick up a hobby, I was asked to prod at something that interests you.

Mumbo: Pranking everyone

Grian: I SWEAR I AM MORE INTERESTING AND DYNAMIC THAN THAT-

Xisuma: Please elaborate. 

Mumbo: NAME ONE OTHER INTEREST

Etho: *raised eyebrow emojis* 

Etho: ^ 

-

*Talking about a poodle who’s head fur was styled in pigtails*

Grian: I’VE SEEN STONES ROCK PIGTAILS BETTER THAN HIM

-

Gem: Do you guys want to have a barbecue?

Cleo: Do we look like we can bbq without burning the place down?

-

Beef: That was homework?

Beef: was that not optional?

Cleo: MY ARSE IS OPTIONAL

-

*Picture of Impulse’s last listened to song, that being Hermitgang*

Tango: Help, Impulse I see you streaming this every 2-3 business days 

-

Joe: Believe in yourself and that you are prepared 

Joe: Because confidence is the key to bullshitting your way through anything

-

Scar: *forwarded* Hello guys, can y’all help my friend do a survey for her project? I really appreciate it if you can help to fill it in. Thanks! [Link to survey]

Cleo: Ok

Stress: Oki

*A bit later* Cleo: A YOU FCKING ASSHOLE I HATE YOU

Cleo: I AM TRYING TO TEXT PEOPLE AND NEVER GONNA GIVE YOU UP IS PLAYING ON MY COM

Cleo: YOU BIG ASS MF I HATE YOU WITH EVERY FIBRE OF MY BODY

Cleo: I WAS VERY READY TO HELP SOMEONE IN NEED 

Pearl: Yes I got tricked too but on April fool’s day and I was wondering when my com had a YouTube tab while back reading other chats cuz I just opened any links in my unread chats and then go to them after backreading and was so confused until I realised the survey form wasn’t there.

-

Tango: You know, not all short people are Bdubs and Grian right?

Bdubs: SHUT UP.

Bdubs: I AM IN YOUR WALLS

-

Stress: *picture of food she baked* 

Pearl: OMG I WANT IT 

Stress: Drop by <3 

Pearl: IM IN UR WALLS FEEDME

-

Bdubs: *picture of Doc*

Etho: omg Bdubs why does it look like he’s towering over you is this your perspective when you see us? 

Bdubs: Etho. I am in your walls.

-

Gem: So I’m walking out of my prismarine farm and suddenly I’m like “Oh shit, where’s my hair tie?” Because I realised that my hair was no longer tied

Gem: And then I look to my pickaxe only to see my hair tie right around it.

-

Pearl: Question. If you are standing somewhere and you need to wear socks, what would you do in the situation? Assuming there are no chairs to sit on

Stress: Balance on one foot, fail miserably and fall over

Cleo: Sit on the floor and wear it

False: Balance on one foot and wear it

Pearl: Ah- 

Pearl: I decided to try just shoving my foot into the sock without any supports. But that didn’t work because my hands were full so I leaned against the wall and put on my sock from there.

Pearl: I managed to do one because right afterwards, Gem appears and just s t a r e s before laughing at me because of how STUPID I looked.

-

Impulse: *sends video*

Scar: idk why I can’t hear anything even thought my volume is on

Impulse: It’s ok, I’ll show you tomorrow 

Mumbo: Is your tab muted?

Scar: …

Scar: Haha 

Scar: oops anyway-

Mumbo: Amateur mistake.

Mumbo: I thought you were more chronically online than this

[bleedingcoffee42]

Spiersmore is gonna be my top hottest ship cuz goodamm!these lads r driving me insane.More "unborthered smirk",his tall tanned stature..that mf is sexy af nd he knows it while spiers uughhhhs bro's eyelashes*chef's kisses* nd his pretty pretty face...more can get him all hot,bothered nd irritated aahhhhh.i need fics guys !!!!!plzzz atleast share more headcanon that will give me some relife too

So I've been thinking about the overlap of Malarkey and More. We see them the first time when Speirs walks through and More gives him backtalk about moving out and Malarkey is quick to say 'Do you know who that crazy MF is?' and we go through a D Day reeneactment.

Now this scene can be taken several ways:

A) Ask why the Dog company Lieutenant is passing through this batch of Easy soldiers and assume it's to check on someone. Someone being More. More who gives him shit for a look over the shoulder. In public. There is already something going on between these two. And the interaction shows us how More is, forward and with a little bit of bite, and liking that stern look he gets.

or

B) This is when More decides SpeirMore is his goal. He gives Speirs shit for not being their Lieutenant and trying to order them around and gets that look that sends tingles to all the right places. The lore only enhances this. While the boys say 'Fuck that guy', More is thinking 'I'm going to fuck that guy'.

And on Malarkey who refers to More as "More was a rugged John Wayne type, the son of a saloonkeeper in Casper, Wyoming." and "This time, our resident scrounger, Alton More." More stole that motorcycle they were riding around on from Utah beach, got it on an LST, and then made fake gas tickets to fuel it before riding it around Aldbourne. More. So while on these adventures I can see where we can go from Markley being "I see the devil himself in Speirs" to when they take the Eagles Nest and he's popping champagne to spook the Devil who just walked into a table. And that could be because his friend, who also like steal shit, is banging the guy.

And the competing looters being a couple? Yeah, I go for that.

The photo album is also a pivotal piece. It's used to spark an argument that More clearly enjoys. This comes after he's the only one who watches Speirs pistol whip Craver. More sees something even better about Sparky and goes for it. Needs something to really piss him off, so this is where he just steals from Speirs. It's an invitation to 'come and take it' and also a invite to go all the way to Wyoming after the war to hunt him down. This is when Tab quits, he's done. Done walking in on them, done listening to shit that carries out of the office.

The album ends up being a mess, probably should have open and honest about the things you wanted in the bedroom office instead of stealing haunted merchandise, but it is what it is. More ends up having to hide it in his cot and the seat of a Jeep to keep it from not only Speirs but the French who think they must have it because it has pictures of them surrendering. (Cue Ron mumbling 'Then don't surrender assholes'.) and in a checkmate bitch move, More enlists Winter's help to help him keep the album.

Dick makes him his jeep driver and now is involved in this theft ring/mating dance More has going on.

This is also fic fodder. Does Speirs throw in his lot with More because its now Easy vs the French or is Winters enough to hold that line and he is now challenged by trying to figure out where More is hiding it and how Winters is involved. (Bonus if he goes through Dick's footlocker and wonders why the hell there is a case of Vat in there.)

OR we go post war and hunt that man down in Wyoming. Dealers choice on whether or not that album is cursed.

Oh and the Western AU where More is the Rancher and this mysterious stranger from Boston walks into his town that isn't big enough for the both of them? Yeah, I could go for that too. Even better if he's cavalry and there to buy remounts for his company. Or get mounted, whatever.

[deviantartdramahub]

So, Ilia tries to call me out on tumblr but i can get my revenge on tumblr as well until i am return on this site in december 2023. If she will be nicely to me, Maybe but she SHOULD be NOT EVIL.

And i am also regarding her awful post back for what ilia did shit to me: https://www.tumblr.com/deviantartdramahub/735373729478098944/regarding-this?source=share

"A post that implies that if he had another account that he would evade the block and contact the person who blocked him - which is block evading and against dA rules (I was rude here, could've been nicer. I wasn't. I apologize for that bit)" Too bad ilia, because he already quit dA but yet you beg him to reporting me, But now you did because you cause my dA channel to be a damaged so you did, And no! I did not blaim you, You blaim and harassing me first. You also send your friends to attack me on my social media account when i got roasted but i escape, And i don't know you since july 2023.

"A status update that uses transgender as an insult. Which can be seen as hate or some kind of aggression. (even if I was transgender, how does that have any bearing on anything?)" Then whats your gender? Oh, You are female! I know what you reveal, I was asking you who are you but no, You are monster. Do i ever aggression you ilia? Hell no, I don't. If you are transgender in real life, That means you could be a male.

"Status by RRCBT577 on DeviantArt (archive.is) - A beware status about me / call out post with little to ZERO evidence of claims. And the ONLY evidence that was used was this status Status by ZazGal432 on DeviantArt (archive.is) < which Zazgal didn't even PROVIDE evidence of. - The original link Status by ZazGal432 on DeviantArt If you actually look at the entire freaking comment section NO WHERE in any of that is there evidence of claims of me supposedly bullying her. You know what I did ? I linked her to the RULES of deviantart regarding screenshots of other user activity like comment threads or dms. THAT'S what I did. (Telling someone the rules of dA isn't considered bullying or harassment). If you're curious - here's the rule she broke: What are your policies on resolving social conflict? - DeviantArt Help Center (deviantartsupport.com) - In the section that stats "Leave your deviations out of it" it talks about how screenshots aren't allowed with serve as a PERSONAL ATTACK."

So you archive my dA channel? Like why are you archive my social media account? Stop using archive.is and quit archiving me instead, You are so annoying lady in the world, You also trying to call me out but you failed. With a little to zero exposed of claims. And the only reasons why i share on your community tab because you beg someone to leave you alone but you cannot handle the FUCKING hate, I already read the dA rules but still. < Your friends are SUPPOSED to quit reporting me on dA, Instead of your bullshit. Btw, I send your friends request on discord because i have to bad reply at you back, I can also send my real friends to come over to your youtube channel. Such as a other, So you have to appeal my ban account instead of CONTACTING a dA help center, You would have to. And screenshots are still allowed you idiot, So stop trying to dragging me.

"The 2 statues he created were used solely for the purpose of attacking, not warning anything.. < Those 2 statuses were removed by staff." Now go RECOVER my dA channel by contacting a dA help center, You are still helper so you cannot hiding your actions. < Or i gonna get the hacker man to recover my dA account, So don't ever trying to reporting me on dA and tumblr you sick woman.

"And then after I created my own beware journal I got comments from an Account named Anti-esai who created this journal: Do not trust a karen username named Illia-Mae by Anti-Esai on DeviantArt (archive.is) - Supposedly, stating that I was "forcing" max to report richard when I was suggesting/recommending. Recommending something isn't "Forcing", btw." I do not created those accounts, It was made by yours or someone else, And yes you are karen. Also like i said before, Stop begging someone to reporting me on dA because that's not how it works, Recommending on your bullshit post is also not gonna help. Ilia, Just stop looking at me on my social media channel and leave, But you won't leave because you still let your friends to ATTACK my community tab. I already get my hero friends to get you because i suggest you to NOT come over me on tumblr. You are the most villains woman in social media i ever seen, And i am becoming a super hero soon until january or march 2024.

"After that journal was posted I created my report with that account and 3 others including the main account asking staff to REVIEW IT.. they deemed the anti - esai was breaking dA rules being a ban evader, Didn't state that it was his account but it was banned nonetheless ; However when Richard here created an account called Anti-Spinninganansi after his prime got SUSPENDED and sent me a note stating "go ahead and suspend me". Tell me you're richard without telling me your richard . and spinning a note asking for his "manager" - It was deemed by the staff that he was indeed suspension evading and therefore banned." So you think you are better than me? Well, You are WORSE than evie when evie attacking me. And now i lost my 1K watchers because of YOU! You keeps blaiming me alot of things that i did, But you DID because you are bad woman. And bad womans don't deserved to be return on other social media, You will unbanned me on dA soon. And my dA channel isn't supposed to be a name my prime, Including nick! He does NOT appeal me when i can show you on the center. I am stuck in banned from dA in 4 months and you won't let me go, Idiotic woman. And you wanna trying to reporting me on tumblr but you are not leader on this site. And he is not my manager, Your friends has a manager on dA because they are acting like a admit ; However when you came to my unfinished dA channel, Then your friends should quit reporting me because i am NOT a ban evade, I am a innocent you monster. Just leave my dA account alone already and stop trying to find me with a help welcome, Go ignore your dA notifications instead and leave my other social media accounts, If you don't leave my social media accounts, Then i am about to get my friends to get you. Now do it or you get bullies by my friends.

"DeviantArt - Discover The Largest Online Art Gallery and Community (archive.is) < this comment thread, pretty much threat. Or can be considered a threat." If you did, < Then explain this

Nick does not let me a appeal because you EVER cause my dA channel to be a damaged and you will RECOVER my dA accounts, I don't care if you not admit but you will.

"That's the reason why NICK a STAFF member of dA declined your appeal. because your behavior on the site got YOU into trouble not the other way around." Oh yeah? Ilia, Your friends evie is trying to get my twitter account trouble because she tries to reporting me on twitter but she failed, But you will never able to REPORT me on twitter and tumblr because you are not A PRO.

Also, I will do a regarding her another awful post about me: https://www.tumblr.com/deviantartdramahub/735374599547748352/also-i-get-that-you-are-upset-richard-and?source=share

"Also -" For what, Another bullshit post you created? Ilia. -

"I get that you are upset Richard and absolutely you have the RIGHT to be upset. And I validate your feelings on being upset. But, how you are handling this ENTIRE thing; Instead of acknowledging your errors - you blame others. Instead of growing and reading the rules that are presented to you that YOU YOURSELF AGREED TO - you continue the behavior. Instead of actually being a mature teenager - you act like a petulant 2-year-old." I am 16 years old, You are upset too because you keeps telling someone to leave you alone but you deleted your post on youtube because you are still letting your friends to attack me. How about you grow up instead and not being a idiot like evie, My fellings will be not upset as your fellings will, I only acknowledging my life - you only blame me first, Instead of your lying and too many times that i already read the dA rules, The only villains that YOU ONLY AGREED TO - you also continue to the drama war too and the behaviour, Instead of actually being a adult - you act like a idiotic crazy woman, Now do it about recover my dA account or else. I am already have 5K subscribers so you will NEVER go inside my YT account.

"The behavior you are displaying on here, YT, twitter, wherever other socials you have - you display a tantrum. (and yes I do see it because you always seem to mention me or others you have issues with)"

You display on my dA account back in july 2023 when i told you ilia, I don't FUCKING know you. - You also display a crazy woman that you are insulting me, Also what do you mean i mention you? You mean a deviantart mails right? You have a issues with your stupid mails that you don't deserved to be a KING, Instead of your evil behaviour.

"I WILL ADMIT that I was rude to you and I AM sorry for being rude to you. But here's a question for you: IF (keyword) IF I nicer to you and let you know PRIVATELY via DMs/notes about the rules of dA - Would you still act the same way?" If you want to apologies to me and being a nice to me, Then do NOT contacting nick to ban me on dA because i can do a legally screenshot whatever i have to, And IDK if i still act the same away but still pissed me off. -_-

"Here's the difference between You and I, right now richard. I have NEVER once threatened to hack your account, I have NEVER ONCE threatened to get "vengeance". I don't create "evilrichard" accounts. I don't post "who is more evil" polls. I don't do things like that." I don't think you shall not do it but my evil clone does NOT exist and my evil clone will be not return, You cannot treating me like this. If you want to be good woman like plankton, Just try but NOT a being evil like your friends evie, I hope the dA drama will be finally END and they will be NO MORE WAR AND BANNED, So please be a good woman or you will be a evil like him.

"You're right. We don't know if the evileviejulia accounts or evilsky or evil-iliamae accounts are yours. But if you look at the coincidence of the situations and everything in between, between your threats, the behavior you're displaying. How can we NOT assume that they are yours?" Like i told you ilia, These acocunts are NOT mine. Your threats must be a quit, Between your community tab of the situations and everything on deviantart and youtube. You'are supposed to be a good or bad, But if you acting like scar from the lion king. This means you can be a villains like him, But if you good woman! You will be good like spongebob or simba.

"I have made mistakes and I will own up to those. My primary mistake was interacting with you. Trying to save your account. - Again. I WAS RUDE. I will admit that shit. But at least I didn't threaten you, call you names by using offensive words, or swore vengeance on you for something so stupid as this."

If you have a mistakes, Then DO NOT CONTACTING ON DA HELP CENTER TO GET MY DA ACCOUNT BANNED.... Because thats not how it works, But it did. If you did not threaten me, Calling me names by using offensive words, then stop trying to attacking me. Because i am a good person and i delete those status update, If i trying to save my account, I will save my account sooner until someone recover my dA accounts. Look ilia, You must be good woman or evil womans! Otherwise you might end up like her.

So that's all i have to say her post about me.

DA belongs to its admins, I would say they can boot who they wish. However, it is more agreeable everyone's approach to this is hideous.

[bellewintersroe]

Hiya lovely, I sent my ship description privately! 💖

Heyyy, thank you for your request!! I loveddd the detail omg so much to write about I’m honestly excited to write this???

I ship you with… Joe Liebgott!!

I was gonna try ship you with somebody else but nah you’re sooo similar to Liebgott in my mind there’s just no way I couldn’t? Like the chemistry and intensity between you both would be amazing? Like your values and looks and everything- sorry if you were hoping for somebody else but I couldn’t help myself!!!’

Joe would deffoooo love your feminine energy, like let’s say you did some pin up modelling on the side before the war and word spread around camp Toccoa fast- he’d probably hear about you before he saw you.

when he found this out omg he was dying to see you? Let’s be honest, Joe already knew he’d be attracted to you, when he heard a pin up model gone combat nurse (let’s just pretend) he already had it in his mind he wanted to be with you?

he just had a feeling? He probably manifested you before anybody even new what manifestation was lmao.

anyway so when he saw you it felt like it wasn’t real? Let’s just say you exceeded his expectations. He was almost like a dog in heat, whining to Webster and Tab how hot you were and all he’d done is walk past you??

This is liebgott we’re talking about I’m sorry but he notices your boobs. He keeps that part to himself but omg!!

your doe eyes and long hair that bounced around stuck in his mind and yes omg that feminine energy I mentioned earlier just captivated him??

finds out from Webster you have Jewish family and omg instantly you’re a perfect match in his mind?

anyway, I feel like he would appreciate how well you take care of your appearance? Let’s say even in Europe, you try your best, and out of everything so ugly in the war how can a literal Angel like you exist, holy shit-

this man needs water he fancies you so much.

as a couple you’d be so hot? Like not to sound shallow but I feel like you’re superrrrrr attractive and so is Liebgott? Like Ross McCall is sexy omg you two would look so good together people would be jealous.

Maybe one day he’d see you defending yourself/ cussing out somebody for insulting your intelligence just because you’re an attractive girl? Like no, being the feisty girl you are you’re not gonna tolerate this.

Joe contemplated stepping in but he admires how well you shut the man down so he watches from a far? Not only are you fucking beautiful but you’re sooo confident, that’s so sexy to Joe.

literally he’s already decided from this moment he wants to be yours.

I feel like he wouldn’t be shy? But maybe a little bit nervous seeing as he noticed you from afar, so one day when he bumped into you he’s a little worried you’re gonna be pissed at him?

but you’re not omg, you laugh it off and you’re so sweet checking up if he’s okay?? This sends his confidence a little higher and he’s suddenly so worried somebody else will ask you out before he did he asks you there and then?

why the hell wouldn’t you go on a date with him, he’s so cute?

but anyway, you go and get on like a house on fire of course! I think the two of you could be really open and I just think you’d get along almost immediately? Like the conversation just flows naturally and you tell him so much about yourself and oh my god tell him more, he can’t get enough of you.

Is sad the date ends so he takes you out on like 5000000 million more.

on your days off drives you around outside Georgia, let’s you drive and honestly is fearful for his life? He’s a such a drama queen OMG, cussing and grabbing hold of the car door for support.

the two of you discuss opinions on topics straight away, etc, religion, beliefs, equality. I feel like Joe could be surprisingly liberal?

like he may need a little education from you on equality on everything if we are talking about the 1940s, but honestly you’re surprised how down to earth and chilled he is when it’s just the two of you together??

Talking about alone time Joe can’t get enough of you- I’m talking kissing, grabbing, sex- you name it.

joe is obsessed with you, the more he finds out about you the more interested he becomes??

maybe one day on a rare weekend leave, you spot some asshole being awful to a young girl. You and Joe share a look and it’s instant fireworks, let’s just say the man backed down immediately.

joe is so proud of you after that and you’re so proud of him. God he kisses you so passionately and I feel like he admits he loves you in the most intense heated moment.

god the chemistry between you two is crazy, people can see it easily, let’s say you’re in a pub in England and after a couple of drinks you’re all over each other.

People wouldn’t even try hit on the either of you because they just know it wouldn’t even be worth it but omg if any guy dares to try come onto you Joe would be kissing his teeth, all up in their face and prepared to humiliate the life out of them.

You both would physically fight anybody if needed.

the same goes for during the war, you’re both so fiercely loyal to one another that you’d take a bullet for each other.

that’s where it gets a little scary. Joe knows the sweet and caring side to you, and he knows deep down you’re not invincible.

this scares the living shit outta you.

would maybe try do anything to get you off the line??

obviously you don’t want him to underestimate your abilities so this causes a little spat between the pair of you? But it’s all in good nature because at the end of the day you’re both so painfully in love with one another.

joe gets a little worried about you when he see’s you withdrawing, but explain to him that you’re just recharging your social battery and he’s understand completely.

falls in love more and more with you every day.

steals you chocolate.

would brush your hair or attempt to plait it.

Grabs your boobs and tries to get a little frisky in public, why the hell not?

I feel like the two of you have an unspoken language? Like you can communicate just through a glance. Often I feel like this would make you both burst out laughing and everybody would be so confused?

maybe you end up cracking up at something Webster said and he gets so uncomfortable by it? Joe would slap his back and say something with a mix of wittiness and sarcasm.

but seriously the energy between you two is crazy, even tho you’re both quite feisty and can get fairly heated you bring out the best in each other.

like seriously just run your hands through his hair and he’ll be the most gentle guy ever, he’d wanna hug you constantly and it’s one day when you’re doing that in which he brings up the thought of having like 50 babies together.

god you’re love is so pure, and so unbreakable. The trust between you both is amazing.

joe never invalidates any of your feelings, when you open up to him about your ptsd he’s almost shocked that he can relate? Like he’s not the most open person, but finds comfort in the fact you can both relate to one another about your mental health?

takes hold of your hand when he recognises you’re a little stressed or anxious in situations, I don’t even think he’d need to say anything, he’d just kiss the side of your temple and keep you close.

he’s much more patient with you than he is with himself or anybody else for that matter.

Tells you constantly you’d make the best moms omg he wants to get you preggers so bad.

despite both being fairly young and your circumstances your relationship is very very stable? Like you both have loads of fun yeah and can have the occasional clash, but at the end of the day you’re both each others person.

if you argue u can guarantee there’d be some amazing make up sex omg.

quickies everywhere- once Babe Heffron walked in on you both and literally screamed like a teenage girl?

You both carried on LOL

you’d tell him off for staring at your boobs in arguments and he’d get all embarrassed and lose the argument lmao.

He loves you sooooo much, he could never ever leave you and honestly takes such good care of you? He’s such a good husband, constantly surprising you, making you laugh, buying you thinks.

always carries around pictures of you wherever he goes.

has one hanging off his rear view mirror of his cab omg. Loves when people compliment you, he’s so proud that you’re his girl.

deffo 1000% gets off to pictures of your pin up modelling, pls take some more… private ones just for his eyes only. ~~~~~~~~~

platonically I match you with… Joe Toye !

Similar to you and Liebgott, Toye I think can be quite head strong? He’s confident, sarcastic, very similar to you.

he’s a little more chilled out yet more outgoing that you? You almost balance each other out perfectly.

I feel like maybe Joe started with having a crush on you because who doesn’t? But when he see’s you with Liebgott he rids that idea veryyyyy quickly.

probably had some flirty banter going on before you and Liebgott became a thing.

he hears somebody maybe talking about women in a bad way? Maybe some nurses? Idk but he tells them to shut their mouth or he’ll stick his brass knuckles where the sun don’t shine.

You watch on quietly and from that day giu just sorta bonded with him? He’s somebody you wanna be around??

Maybe when you get super pissed off about something the Germans did he talks you down? Like you’re super riled up about them firing in your direction and he sorta reminds you where you are and that you gotta stay rationale??

I feel like you’d hype each other up.

he’s a Pisces and as ur a Capricorn you can learn a lot from each other, hence why you maybe rationalise each other so often?

Neither of you are afraid to call each other out on each others bullshit.

that’s why Joe likes you? You give no shit and take no shit. He respects you.

Don’t tell anybody but he’s probs a little bit scared of Lieb???? Like don’t ask me why cos he’s way taller and he’s a good fighter, there’s just something kinda intimidating about Liebgott that you don’t cross.

like I’m best friends with your girl I promise that’s all- please don’t freak out.

[covertconjurer]

SOVVER EYES ONLY

Below the cut is PULP FICTION. Second part to GAMMA UNCHAINED, my Banfiction fic.

An explosion rocks the entire area and you jolt awake-ish, the horrible sensation of morning breath only enhancing the experience. Static fills the atmosphere, sending unpleasant tingles down your spine and causing your already horrible hair to stand on its ends. As you fade further into sentience you realise that the static and explosion were probably linked. Trademark tinges of colours you could never and now cannot see reveal the psionic nature of the blast. Fuck. Acting purely on instinct, you grab your laptop and flip to your perpetually open Vriscord tab, casting your eyes to the name colours on the sovver. companionCube, lupineCalibrator, Tikoaztite, pretty much everyone is still unchanged, you figure only a specific group have gone through what you guys are going through (You will admit, Hebezunet, Nekromantiiks and Scalematez tripped you up a bit). tenebroseComrade, adustCalyx, acanthousAffability, now we’re getting somewhere. Discoloured names reveal roles stating their Classpects. Clearly whatever happened to you guys knows a lot about what’s going on. Makes sense, seeing as “Whatever happened to you guys” could be summed up (albeit rather vaguely) as “Sovern Servre” Anyway. Back to the search. catastrophicCosmonaut azimuthalThalassograph

Ah. Shit. This is what is known, professionally, as an “Uh-Oh Moment”. You can’t figure out what just happened if there are two goldbloods on the team, at least not without looking like a fool. This complicates matters in an unfun way. There’s not- WAIT. You navigate to the search bar at the top of the server and request messages containing the words “Face Reveal”. One of your team’s goldbloods, you can’t remember which but you’ll soon see, has sent photos of themself before. If the colour of their eyes doesn’t match the colour of the psionics, you’ll know it’s the other one. Of course, being sort-of pseudo-half-blind doesn’t help, but you’ll probably be able to recognise it. Maybe. Potentially. Whatever. Anyway. Your request finally goes through (wherever you are must have really shitty wifi) and you scroll up a few messages from the comments about your Internet Acquaintance’s poor choice in internet safety. While you can’t tell what the colours of their eyes are, they certainly don’t match the blast. Mission completed. Cue some silly little jingle to mark the end of your quest. Heading into Cifere’s DMs you’re suddenly reminded at how your Little Detective Spiel wasted a lot of time in which one of your most treasured Internet Acquaintances was probably bleeding out and in deep pain. Your heart thunders into palpitations at this realisation, and you frantically type out a message

TT: c1f

TT: what d1d you do

No response. This either means that he’s knocked out, doing something more important, or she hates you. Logically, you know that the last option is the least probable, but you’re an addict. You aren’t exactly good at listening to your own logical conclusions. TT: sorry about just h3ading 1nto your dms l1k3 th1s but 1 thought you probably wouldn’t want th1s out 1n the o p 3 n.

TT: that blast probably only h1t my land? 1’m not sur3

TT: anyway ps1on1cs damag3 the body r1ght? b3caus3 that was a large blast.

TT: and 1 want3d to check 1f you w3r3 okay.

Still nothing. Your breath can’t keep up with the frantic flow of blood as your circulation system beats the rushing march of an engine in overdrive. You thump your chest with your fist a few times, hoping to shock your body back into regular function. It doesn’t work, but the cough it causes does. The exhaustion drains you of what precious little optimism you had left.

Fuck, what the hell are you even doing. It’s not like you can help, you have no experience with psionics. This sort of shit is why everyone hates you, or is inevitably going to hate you. There’s a reason you have like 1 IRL friend (fuck, should you tell her what happened? Which one of her? No. You don’t want to worry her.) and your brain is going to make god damn sure that you aren’t capable of forgetting it. Every single mistake, every single flaw resounds throughout your mind, a mental greek chorus condemning you for your sins. Think The State Vs Thomas Light, but the other way around. That probably doesn’t scan. Whatever, it doesn’t really matter anyway. You’re too busy wallowing to come up with metaphors right now. A distinctive tone echoes through the area. Something’s happened on Vriscord. Opening your laptop, you notice it’s from Cifere. CC: Yeah, ZZorry about that CC: I’m fine, no need two worry CC: HaZZ ZZovern contacted you yet? TT: not y3t. 1’m sur3 h3 w1ll at som3 po1nt TT: 1 assum3 from th3 qu3st1on h3’s contact3d you?

CC: Other way round actually, he’ZZ about aZZ dickish aZZ expected. TT: w3 d1d mak3 h1m a d1ck TT: tbh a lot of th3 stuff w3’r3 go1ng through could b3 d3scrib3d as hubr1s TT: w3ll. not r3ally us. but also r3ally us. what3v3r. do3sn’t matter.

TT: what d1d h3 want?

CC: It’ZZ probably beZZt if we juZZt wait for him two contact everyone individually

CC: It’ZZ hard two explain

TT: som3th1ng som3th1ng frodo bagg1ns m3m3CC: What?TT:

CC: Okay.

Well you completely bollocksed that up. Good job. Feel free to remember that you’re In Hell whenever you want. Fuck it. It may only be 5 AM but you’re getting up now. Start the day fresh. Explore wherever the fuck you are. Let’s go on a fucking adventure. Don your garb and proceed, young Knight. If you can call an unwashed Sign Tee, one of five identical bowling shirts and tracksuit bottoms garb. Whatever. As you step out of your room, you notice complex sigils and alchemy equipment strewn about the floor. It’s pretty easy to guess that Sovern dropped you into some sort of wizard role, probably expecting you to bolster your teammates with your powers and take a supplemental role. Rather fitting for the eternal sidekick. You toss the door open and spiral downwards through more laboratories and other associated rooms for doing magic shit. You don’t have the energy to analyse it in detail right now. Some more weird technomancy shit, some libraries, some rooms which are probably meant for more ritualised magic, you have a feeling you’d probably love this place if your shitty brain would just let you feel joy. Fuck, you need to get outside and clear your head. By force if necessary.

It’s foggy. And not in the usual Vision Zerofold way. You like it, you think, but you really can’t be sure. Human You fucking loved fog, you know that much. Not being able to see very far gave the world a sense of mystery that was rare for her to experience. She, and by proxy you, didn’t really ever feel wonder or the inherent beauty of the world. No zest for life, y’know. You sometimes remark about how probably the only reason you’re still alive is a crippling fear of death. That’s kept you running this long at least. The ground is paved beneath your feet, but you can tell it’s old stone. Living in Britland does have some advantages it seems. Brief stretches of cobble demarcate what you believe to be path edges, and as you plod steadily onward you stumble a few times on metal plaques bearing cryptic and depressing messages. You resolve to ignore them, and kep pressing on in the one direction you’ve been walking towards the dull lamplight you can tell you’re approaching. The lamps are old, gas things. Like a caricature of your homeland. Whoever made this place clearly either didn’t know a thing about it and learnt everything they knew from Pre-Creation movies or is actively mocking you. You don’t know why they’d bother, you’re completely indifferent on the place. You will admit though, the streets are kind of pretty. At least, you think so. The architecture is decent, though you haven’t looked inside any of the buildings yet. Y’know what, you’re going to do that now. As you head into the most public building you can see (probably a shop, from the sign) you notice that there’s nobody inside. Come to think of it, you haven’t seen anyone anywhere really. No consorts or underlings. Kind of odd, considering this a knockoff of SVURB which is the same class of game as SBURB. Whatever. Back to the store. It’s a pretty standard foodstore. Vegetables. Breads. Fish upon ice. Peanut butter. You’ll nab some stuff for later. Huh. That’s odd, no-one's even trying to stop you. The sheer lack of people is starting to seriously freak you out. You’d better head back to the tower and relay this information to your newly formed team. Just need to remember which way you came. You’ve got a pretty good head for directions, it shouldn’t be too hard. Just follow the path. Simple. You’re lost. In retrospect, the Land probably intentionally obscures the way you should go. Void bullshit, y’know. You could try video game logic. That might work. You walk directly off the path and into the fog. You’re still lost. Fuck. Welp, looks like you’re just going to keep looking. God, why the fuck did you think that would work? It was so fucking clearly a stupid idea. Nothing would ever be that fucking simple. Jesus fucking christ. You start slamming your head against the solid brick of the wall (Not even strong enough to make it hurt. Fucking wimp.) you head up the stairs, through the stupid fucking wizard rooms. Back to your room, dropping the food you stole (Thief. Glutton. Disgusting.) in the kitchen along the way. You open your laptop and see a brand spanking new, shiny DM from one shallowVerisimilitude

SV: i aSSume you had a nice time?TT: wow, you r3ally ar3 a d1ck.

SV: don’t complain about your own hubriS. it doeSn’t reflect Very well on you.TT: 1 suppos3 1t do3sn’t. TT: what ar3 my ord3rs.

[lets-talk-spirituality]

I'm really not tea bothering with my shit? Dreaming of a date with someone who has never seen me in photos but we have talked, what does it mean? that souls attract each other or something? (I know that these people have moons (air (libra)-earth (virgo)) opposite to mine (fire (aries)-water(piscis)) complementary opposite signs) or just a repressed personal desire? or something else?

It will not be that the spectator spirits decide?:… look at this boy, we have to make him understand that it is worth not giving up and pursuing his dreams and not stop falling in love let's make him see that a scene could be real or they are simply ghost trolls that roam the world and enter me room and my mind to play me a good movie and have me fool myself into thinking there is a real connection to a person? ¿could it be real? looks like what a cartoon

Could it be that someone I have never seen disguises himself with the image of a person I have physically seen? Could it be that with skills anyone can enter my dreams and impersonate something that attracts me? like a witch or an alien? Could it be that I fell in love with a witch or an alien? Can you have a relationship with a be not physically as in a dream but is it also real? I wonder how the dream machinery works? because i could invent imagine many ways that this could work so i just put physical limits on myself and i don't expand, I distract myself with tabs and small details. will there be a kind of direction, beings that decide and send actors to act in my dream and communicate things to me so that get over things i forget when i'm awake in the boring life i lead? (They also exist with malicious intent that they do?) Or are these, as you mentioned, just metaphors to understand how it works and the ideal is to discover for meyself why can't we process it here how does it really work?

Many of these beings look like strange non-human abstract shapes that are perceived in ways other than the 5 senses that we are used to? Because last year I saw an increase in this magic in dreams, especially in the Libra season, and I don't know if it was because of the content I was consuming on Tumblr and what attracted with the reblogs or I was really accessing something unknown like a world of light and beings from colors ( and that it was scaring me because I felt more like a vampire, That's why when I read your post about energy vampires it opened my mind, About this feeling of losing, losing blood and that there are parasitic insects that stick to the mind and eat our thoughts, or that I can absorb other people's blood and feel like one of them, which also scares me, Losing myself from who I really am, that's when I feel like I'm winning, when I'm not afraid ). and reality seemed to me more like pulling or chasing at the same time an energy opposite to mine like indigo like that of scorpio, being possessed by her, attracted, someone drinking me like my blood dripping, or i sniffing, losing, winning for the street and nature, when I break branches I feel weaker.

Can a person develop, grow through dreams? what happens if i fall in love with a person in a dream and i look for him? Or I would lose my time? all this is superficial and nothing deep like can it be with my soul mates or counterparts? my mars in virgo suppressing his emotions does not let me understand the wishes of the other person, then I think in the form of a strategy the decisions and actions. and that also separates me from improvising the present and relaxing in it, The reality section leads me directly to thinking about the result but I have no idea how it is achieved in the reality, only movies. what a mess. I know this is part of the control once again. press release button

Thanks to you and the spirits for contributing me to co-create, I hope they don't feel offended by the cartoons if they are very far from what it really is. They have organized my mind in an incredible way They have provided valuable tools and also to help me understand what it really is and what I was learning from my intuition turned out to be correct and also for to understand that the best option is to let go of control, why keep me in it and in the fear? now way to empty

So much to unpack I wanted to wait to respond on this. And no you’re not bothering me, but if you ever want to send these asks more broken up that’s fine too. Not sure if you’re like worried of blowing up my inbox but that’s no problem.

Dreaming of a date with someone who has never seen me in photos but we have talked, what does it mean?

Depends on the dream! Sometimes our mind explores possibilities, or things that never happened. It doesn’t necessarily indicate a soul connection unless you frequently dream of them.

they are simply ghost trolls that roam the world and enter me room and my mind to play me a good movie and have me fool myself into thinking there is a real connection to a person?

That’s funny anon. You got me thinking of spirit watching us on a reality dating show and based on polling, relationships are chosen or not. Molly Mae and Tommy (from my fav season of Love Island) are having a baby. I’m like see!!! LOVE EXISTS. Anyway ghost trolls also made me laugh. But no I don’t think it’s so malicious. Usually if things are fucking with you energetically you will feel fear or stress in dreams and in a strong way.

Could it be that someone I have never seen disguises himself with the image of a person I have physically seen?

That’s a possibility and that does happen because they pick someone comfortable to you. That happens with celebrities a lot. I’ve had random ass dreams. Like deeply in love with some random guy at school (felt super weird about him bc I didn’t even know him) and even Cole Sprouse and sometimes people I haven’t seen. Like I’ve had dreams I’m like cuddling and sleeping in bed and stuff. But I know that’s not really them but someone masking as them.

Could it be that with skills anyone can enter my dreams and impersonate something that attracts me?

Theoretically this could happen, but it’s not likely to me. If they want to fuck with you they don’t give you cute date dreams. I’ll give an example of someone fucking with me, I had a dream I was in love with this guy and he had a bunch of brothers (like 7 altogether) and they all had girlfriends and they would draw a name and that girlfriend had to be sacrificed to this troll, like giant troll. Obviously I was chosen except my boyfriend was like wtf, no, I’m not letting my girlfriend be eaten by a troll. Which, I mean good for him, because wtf kinda ritual. But I think that was like something fucking with me and whomever that guy that was my boyfriend was my counterparts energy. I know my counterpart has done this in other dreams and masked as people, and protected me, but I think maybe it could be an avatar from another life. Like I had this dream I was very passionately kissing this guy I’d never seen, but I knew it was my counterparts energy. But the face was so distinct. I think it may have been a face they wore in a life we had together. And let me tell you, yes it can be real. I can still remember that kiss vividly. It was so intense it woke me up. Which pissed me off but yeah.

will there be a kind of direction, beings that decide and send actors to act in my dream and communicate things to me

Idk if your life could be boring with your mind, bestie. But yes. They aren’t actors but there can be strong messages communicated in dreams. I had a dream my cousin who works in finance was yelling at me that I needed to sell my stocks. This was before I knew I had precognitive dreams so I didn’t take action like a dumbass and guess what happened six months later. Stocks fell. You should keep a dream journal because it will help your mind get used to remembering these sort of details.

Many of these beings look like strange non-human abstract shapes

You’re just remembering the energetic warfare of precious lives.

Can a person develop, grow through dreams?

Yes. You can’t lose time because time is a construct. All things just are. What you experiences in dreams are as real as what you imagine when you read a book, or insights you have looking at art. It’s all real in that it changes your perspective. So yes, there’s more freedom in dreams to do things you can’t or wouldn’t in real life so it’s an amazing space to develop. It’s relatively safe too because your body is generally safe and not in danger of dying.

[dekusbrokenarms]

AU where instead of being a Big Bad Evil Guy, All for One just becomes an immortal quirk doctor and helps people manage their quirks by ridding them of quirks that hurt them or helping them accept their quirks despite societal bullshit. 

Social services bring Tenko to him to get his quirk removed as a child, but AFO tells them to go fuck themselves and adopts Tenko to help him control his quirk but, you know, this time isn’t a total fucking asshole about it.

Endeavor brings Touya to this world renown quirk specialist to discuss why his quirk is hurting him. All for One just takes one look at the kid and brings Endeavor out into the hall to be like “look at what you did. You fucked up a perfectly good 8 year old. He’s self harming.” 

As much as he despises Endeavor, he talks to Touya to find out what he wants. He’s not going to take the kid’s quirk against his will. Touya is insistent that he wants to keep his quirk. He has to surpass All Might. He has to for his dad!

All for One goes back to Endeavor and he’s like, “Well, he doesn’t want his quirk removed. My first suggestion is therapy. You’ve obviously fucked up the kid. If you show me some proof that you’re doing family therapy, I can replicate your quirk factors and give them to Touya. Overtime he should at the very least stop burning himself. With the proper support equipment, he could become a hero if he wants to.”

Endeavor hears the idea of having two powerful hero sons and decides that makes his chances of one of them surpassing All Might all the greater. So he goes along with this “bullshit” family therapy shit, and it takes a while to get him to see his behavior is a problem because he’s an asshole, but AFO refers them to someone he knows will put Endeavor in his place. Endeavor starts to realize how much of an awful human being he is and eventually Touya receives the transplant of replicated quirk factors. And it’s not an easy process. Both Enji and Touya are left exhausted from it and they have to do it a few times before Touya’s body starts producing the quirk factors itself and his skin doesn’t burn when he uses his quirk.

Toga’s parents bring her in, concerned about her fascination with blood and AFO shrugs. “What do you expect? She has a blood quirk.” And he chitchats with her and makes a safe space for her to talk about her dark inclinations and he just tells her to remember that hurting other people isn’t okay, but when she grows up she could become a great actress with a talent like hers and people will let her use their blood and praise her for it and no one will be upset with her. He also sends them to family therapy.

BONUS:

Surprise Dad for One! 

When Izuku turns five and still hasn’t developed a quirk, Inko gets really concerned. DFO tells her not to worry about it. He can sense a quirk in his son. He just can’t tell what it is. Like it’s dormant. Like his brother’s used to be. It’s a little concerning, but DFO tries not to meddle with it. He saw what happened to his brother when he meddled and he can’t do that to his son.

So Izuku still grows up functionally quirkless until All Might gives Izuku One for All. 

Now, I imagine AFO keeps tabs on the current holders of his brother’s quirk and he just despised All Might. All the glitz and glamour and showmanship is a spit in the face of his brother’s legacy. He’s supposed to be a protector. Not a celebrity.

All Might doesn’t even know Izuku is AFO’s kid until after he transfers OFA to him. AFO is fucking livid when Izuku comes home with broken bones and a new quirk. He throttles All Might for it. Who the fuck does he think he is giving such a damaging quirk to a kid without even talking to the kid’s parents! This wasn’t a life or death  situation. He just fucking did it. Like a prick.

AFO doesn’t take the quirk, but he does help Izuku manage it. And Izuku’s own quirk awakens, allowing him to harness all the powers stored in OFA. He also has cool lightning like his dad and that’s neat.

[holdingforgeneralhugs]

Emmaaa❤️❤️ may I request a headcanon where the easy boys fell in love with a shy reader? Maybe with Bull, Tab, Luz, Speirs Babe and Malarkey? Thank you❤️ love you

Aaahhh Fran my dear, what a great way to start off my birthday week tysm for sending one in💓

Bull Randleman:

Bull is super protective of you, always has been.

He got 10 million times more protective when he realises he's head over ass in love with you.

He's always there, always got your back no matter what.

He likes that you're most comfortable when you're with him, makes him feel like he's special.

When he was stuck in that barn in Holland, separated from everyone, thinking about you was the only thing that kept his strength up.

Its then he decides he has to tell you how he feels.

He's pretty direct about it, he doesn't want to beat around the bush with this.

"Look darlin', I ain't gonna mess around here, because to be completely honest I'm head over heels in love with you."

You get all blushy and stuttery and he thinks it's probably the most adorable thing he's ever seen.

He can tell you're flustered, so he grabs your cheeks in his hands and rubs his thumbs over them gently.

"Can I kiss ya darlin'?" He asks softly

You can't even speak you're so surprised, so you nod and he leans in and kisses you slowly, not wanting to rush anything and ruin the perfect moment.

"Hell Bull," you giggle, "I've been hoping you'd say something for ages."

"And why didn't you say anything, huh?" He laughed.

"Because I was too scared you'd turn me down."

"Well," he sighed, kissing your forehead, "I just can't quite believe I ever gave you the impression I'd turn you down. Guess I'll just have to prove to you how much I love you from now on."

Floyd Talbert

Tab is a total flirt

He's all cheesy pickup likes at first and they make you blush like hell but you'll never give him the satisfaction of laughing at them because they're so ridiculous.

But he takes your blushing as encouragement so he keeps going for weeks until eventually he gets a giggle out of you and it makes all his efforts worthwhile because you have the most lovely laugh.

After that you start getting to know each other a little better, and you start to get closer.

He's delighted when you start to open up and share more with him.

It kind of hits him like a slap in the face that shit, he's in love love you.

He's a total softie with you

He's quite subtle about it at first. He does small nice things for you; makes you coffee, gives you half his k ration when supplies are low.

He's surprisingly reluctant to profess his feelings for you. He thinks there's no way you'll see him as anything other than a friend.

Chuck tells him he's an idiot, that you've clearly got feelings for him too and be should just tell you already.

So he does...in the most muddled way possible. It all kinda comes out like word vomit.

"So-I-Just-wanna-tell-you-I-think-you're-wonderful-and-I'm-a-little-bit-in-love-with-you."

You're dumbfounded, and you can't quite comprehend what he's just said.

"Wait," you whisper, "are you being serious right now?"

"Yeah," he laughs, "I've kinda got it really bad for you."

You giggle and blush like hell, and he grins like an idiot because he loves that giggle so much

"How about I take you out for dinner sometime?" He asks cheekily, and his grin widens when you blush harder and agree to go.

He saunters over to you and plants a quick kiss on your lips, before putting his arm around your shoulder and leading you off, pointedly ignoring Chucks wolf whistles when the two of you walk past him.

George Luz

George is the biggest flirt around, and he makes no secret in the fact he likes you.

He goes out of his way to compliment you; tells you that you make Rita Hayworth look plain, that you make sunshine look dull.

The more he makes you blush, the harder he tries. He knows he can crack your shy shell and find the gem underneath.

He's a big fan of cheesy movie quotes, which you adamantly refuse to indulge him with, but he keeps trying nonetheless.

He's tried them all, so he decides this time to pull out all the stops and be as direct about his feelings as possible.

"See that's what's wrong with you," he starts smoothly, "you should be kissed, and often. And by someone who knows how."

He pauses for a second to judge your reaction, and when he sees you smiling he sweeps you into a dramatic dip and kisses you passionately, Clarke Gable style.

He quite literally swept you off your feet, and he knows it too.

Once he knows he's successfully gotten your attention for real, he softens. He dials down the flamboyant flirting and instead he just talks to you and gets to know you for real.

He loves to cuddle you in close and have whispered conversations for hours.

He's very affectionate too, always has to be holding your hand or have his arm around you.

He brings you out of your shell, his enthusiasm and fun nature is so infectious you can't help but be swept up by it and join in on the fun.

Ronald Speirs

Ron is incredibly different when he's with you, much to everyone's surprise.

He laughs with you, like....a lot.

At first you were very cautious with him. You'd heard the stories and weren't too sure what to make of him.

But when you get to know him you realise that he is totally different to what everyone said.

You found that he is really easy to talk to, and he has a wicked sense of humour.

He liked that you were a bit more quiet than others, it made you much easier for him to talk to.

He tells the most brilliant stories, and the two of you usually end up talking for hours about all sorts; history, movies, music, anything and everything.

Its obvious to everyone but you that he has feelings for you.

He thinks you must surely know, that it was completely obvious he'd fallen in love with you. I mean he spends all his free time with you, and he never talks to anyone else the way he does with you.

Lipton eventually realises that no, you don't actually have a clue how Speirs feels about you, so he tells him that you're oblivious.

Naturally Speirs is all action and matter of fact, so he decides to just tell you how he feels and see what happens.

He's kinda nervous despite outward appearances, but he'd never admit it to himself or anyone else.

So he literally just comes out and says it one day; no frills, no fuss.

You're disarmed by his straightforwardness. You'd hoped that he might return your feelings but you'd thought there was no way.

You've never seen him smile brighter than when you told him you returned his feelings.

He wasted no time after that; he wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you in to a passionate kiss, his other hand cupping your jaw.

Everyone was delighted you'd mellowed out ole Sparky a little, but of course nobody was brave enough to say it out loud in case he found out.

Babe Heffron

Babe....is a bit of a mess around you.

He tries to act all cool and smooth, but he's really a total disaster because he's so distracted staring at you.

When you first start getting to know each other he does most of the talking. He's nervous as hell around you so his mouth just keeps going.

Lucky for him though you find it endearing, and it helps you feel more comfortable with him so you start to open up too.

After that he prefers to listen instead of talk, because he's fascinated by everything you tell him.

You're two peas in a pod, and everyone thinks you're a miracle worker because you've managed to get Babe to stop talking for 5 minutes.

Its clear to everyone that the guy is totally in love with you, they're just waiting for him to do something about it.

So of course Bill is the one to tell him to get his act together.

"Get your goddamn head out of your ass Babe and stop acting like a lovesick puppy. Go tell her you love her and get the goddamn girl."

It takes him awhile, and he really has to gear himself up to do it. He's attempted to say it so many times but he keeps chickening out.

One night you two are hanging out just the two of you and he manages to get it out.

He stutters like hell, but you think it's seriously adorable, and you're grinning like an idiot by the time he's finished.

"Well, don't leave me hanging," he says nervously, "do you feel the same or...?"

You say nothing, instead leaning towards him and kissing him sweetly.

You're both blushing like two cherry tomatoes, but you're smiling so much your cheeks hurt.

Then you're even more inseparable. Bill thinks you're joined at the hip or something.

You're really cute together though, always holding hands or cuddled up.

What you don't see is that Babe rarely takes his eyes off of you, and he still looks like a lovesick puppy but honestly he couldn't care less.

Don Malarkey

Don tries to act all cool when the boys are around, but when he's alone with you he's much quieter.

It's those quiet moments alone together that you enjoy the most.

He's a great listener, and he has a gentle way of pushing you to open up and be yourself with him.

You guys grow close pretty quickly, and start spending more and more time together.

He finds himself getting lost in conversations with you, and getting distracted staring at you.

He realises one day when you're telling a funny story about your childhood and he hears your wonderful laugh that he's totally in love with you.

He doesn't say anything for awhile, thinking it all over. He contemplates if he should even tell you or not because there's a chance you'll laugh I'm his face and tell him no way in hell.

Eventually he decides to screw it and just tell you. But he's not gonna just come out and say it, he's gotta do some kinda gesture. But nothing too overly dramatic because you wouldn't like that.

So he turns up to meet you with a bunch of flowers he picked himself, and he's been trying to fix his hair for the last goddamn half hour.

He's got a speech prepared and everything, but he's pretty sure he's forgotten half of it.

"Look I...I don't know if you feel the same or anything but...I just want you to know that I am head over heels in love with you. And I don't expect you to return the feelings or anything but I'm hoping you'll give me a chance."

You could tell he was nervous about the whole thing, and it was quite possibly the most endearing thing you'd ever seen in your life.

You took the flowers from him and placed them on a side table quickly before jumping into his arms and hugging him tight.

"Woah," he chuckles, "I'm taking this as a good sign then."

You pulled back your head from his shoulder and looked into his eyes happily, nodding your agreement.

He eyes crinkled when he smiles and he leans in, pressing his lips against yours firmly.

Its clear to everyone how perfect you are for each other; you calm his wilder side and he brings out your more outgoing side.

Well there you have it! Hope you all like it and ilysm Fran thanks so much for such a fun request to kick off the birthday week fun💕

Taglist: @tvserie-s-world @geniedocroe @generousdreamlanddestiny @sunsetmando @cagzzz107 @howunexpectedlyso @alejodi0nysus @sunflowerchuck

[anika-ann]

Walk Me Home Tonight (S.R.)

Type: one-shot, songfic

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader     Word count: 4700

Summary: Sometimes it’s hard to be in a celebratory mood when all you can think of is that life sucks and that being left on your own to drown your sorrows is for the best.

Sometimes people who care about you know better than yourself and come crashing your party of one.

Sometimes, despite the popular belief, you do realize how lucky you are having been introduced to Steve Rogers.

Warnings: mention of blood and violence and death, mention of alcohol, angst, fluff and language

A/N: P!nk’s Walk Me Home just does something to me, alright? Music video included - it’s soooo beautiful.

*✧･*✧･*✧･*✧･*✧･*✧･*✧･

You stared at the amber liquid, lazily making it roll in the glass with idle motions of your wrist. It reflected the rather soft lights of the bar, an exquisite game of colour you found fascinating enough to dull your mind and muffle the noise of the party.

It wasn’t that you were a party pooper, not usually anyway; just… the timing wasn’t ideal.

Of course, Sharon could hardly move her birthday to make it more convenient for you, less so a party her colleagues had decided to throw for her. You knew Agent Carter for quite some time now; she had joined SHIELD about the same time as you, going through the same tough training. Except unlike you – and initially without your knowledge – she had an image to live up to.

You might even call her a friend, your chest bursting in pride for her when her hard work had finally borne some fruit and she had been promoted to an assistant director of the intelligence agency. Among other things, it earned her a lot of new potential friends.

You were hardly acting like one tonight, much to your own annoyance. But for some reason, you found it difficult to leave your momentary emotional baggage at the doorstep, slipping it off as easily as your coat. You had wished her all the best, conversed for a tiny bit and then happily made space for others, for the forming line of guests waiting to celebrate with her as well.

Then you retreated to your spot at the bar, possibly annoying the bartender, who would have been more delighted seeing some heavier drinker occupying your seat, tipping generously, instead of having you nursing each glass of alcohol for about two hours.

You weren’t even sure why you were still here; you had given up on the attempt on small talk with anyone, apparently unwittingly chasing away any potential company. And here you thought misery did love company – perhaps you were wrong, at least when it came to birthday parties of gorgeous women loved by everyone. You might as well pack up your bottom and sulk at home.

You were stubbornly shushing the voice in the back of your skull, whispering about knowing precisely why you remained in your seat; about feeling less alone here, despite being a literal loner in a crowd.

You downed the rest of the bitter scotch, basking in the burn which it left on its way down your throat, your eyelids slipping shut in content, the noise in your brain falling silent completely for few blissful moments.

“Party of one?” a male voice gently asked, the tinniest note of teasing in it and while your heart skipped a startled beat at being addressed, you felt the burn in your throat slip lower, warming your chest and causing the corners of your mouth turn up just a fraction.

 There's something in the way you roll your eyes Takes me back to a better time When I saw everything is good But now you're the only thing that's good

 “Felt like crashing it?” you hummed in response, side-eyeing the intruder and found a pair of cerulean eyes staring back. He blindly waved off the eager bartender who was about to offer him a drink.

Ah, poor guy. No tips for him tonight.

“Well, I didn’t get an invitation. Looks like crashing was my only option.”

You sighed tiredly despite Steve’s kind teasing. Tonight was just… so exhausting. Tonight. Today. This week. Gah, this whole month. This fucking year--- okay, maybe you were exaggerating, because you were simply crossing the line, moving from relaxed buzzed drunk to a miserable one.

Battling with yourself, arguing whether you should send him to hell – nicely, because Steve was nothing but kind, he was always so kind, goddammit, gentle humour spiced with the ability to become an utter troll, still benign though, that was why you usually enjoyed his company so much after all-… – or call it a night.

Or should you order another drink? Was there a point? You might cross the line to a clingy drunk eventually and you weren’t certain that was a good idea.

It was probably about as good of an idea as coming to a party despite feeling like shit on an emotional roller-coaster, dangerously inclining towards a very bad mood to put it mildly.

You tilted your head to side as you looked at Steve properly, tight blue shirt flattering his supersoldier frame, black pants with desperately needed leather belt considering his thin waist, his blonde hair a mess, gaze fixed on you, observing. Always observing to read people, to anticipate behaviour, evaluate the threat; sometimes simply to be considerate, to… to be compassionate.

Dammit, Steve.

“Must have got lost in the mail then,” you said eventually, offering a weak smile. “Sorry.”

“Nah, it’s alright,” he shrugged it off, the curve of his lips more distinct than yours. As if he was offering to cheer you up. Sweet, but possibly vain effort tonight. Sometimes, things simply piled up and there was no escape. Such was the fate of a government agent. And human, for that matter. “Doesn’t look like much fun and I think it’s about to end anyway.”

“I guess…”

 Tryna stand up on my own two feet This conversation ain't comin' easily And darling, I know it's getting late So what do you say we leave this place?

 This time, Steve actually made an eye contact with the bartender, who eagerly rushed to him at instant. His excited expression fell when he noticed you were pulling out your wallet to close your tab. You didn’t have the strength to shoot him an apologetic smile.

Steve’s eyes were on you the whole time, you could feel them, and you wondered why. Until he spoke again, as soon as the other man left.

“Come on. I’ll walk you home,” he offered gentlemanly, coaxing you into saying yes, possibly unaware of the effect which such tone had on people.

Or perhaps he knew, using exactly that when he was trying to talk someone down, to calm them, gain their trust. The joke was on him, because it was a vain effort; you trusted him fully already. Surely, he knew that.

Right?

Trust was the solid base the team of Avengers needed and since you somehow found yourself with them, it involved you too. The team stood and fell on trust and mutual respect. But it meant so much more – they were friends. They cared about each other, about their well-being.

Right now, Steve was being a good friend and a good teammate.

And you were being exactly that too when you turned his kind proposition down.

“No, it’s fine. There are still some people who are actually able to speak coherently with you. Go enjoy yourself. I’ll be okay.”

“It’s three in the morning,” he pointed out, as if admonishing you for not noticing. Your eyebrow rose deliberately.

“…and?”

“And I’d feel better if you weren’t walking the streets alone,” he replied easily, ignoring the hint of snark in your comeback as you made your way to the coat-stand.

Still walking on the line of miserable and pleasantly buzzed, you couldn’t find it in yourself to be mean to him for such patronizing approach. He had been raised this way and despite his open mind and admirable respect to women, he slipped sometimes.

“Steve, I’m a SHIELD agent basically turned Avenger. I can take care of my-“

“But you don’t have to. And-” He gestured subtly back towards the bar and a metaphorical lightbulb flickered above your head.

Not patronizing then, god forbid chauvinist; Peggy Carter would rise from the death to beat him with his own shield, with Natasha’s enthusiastic help, if he was showing any sign of aforementioned qualities and he was well-aware of that.

Just mother-henning then, the way Steve excelled at.

It brought the first honest smile of the night to your lips. You made sure to face him so he could see how wholesome his company was for you.

“I’m not too drunk, Steve. I had like two glasses of scotch,” you assured him, gently brushing his forearm before reaching for your coat and scarf. “And two beers.”

“I know,” he stated, stealing your coat only to hold it out for you to slip into it.

God, the woman who would once win his heart was about to be one lucky bitch.

Jim has never done this for me, flashed through your mind and you instantly shushed the whining voice in your head. Instead, you went over what he just said, blinking in surprise.

Huh? He… knew?

“I… might have kept an eye on you,” he admitted tentatively, the tips of his fingers brushing your shoulder before retreating and letting you to cocoon in the fabric.

“Why?”

Why would he keep an eye on you? Sure, teammates and friends and all that, but for some reason, you doubted he kept an eye on Tony, the only other Avenger (beside Steve, not Steve and you, you don’t count, a voice hissed in your mind and you winced) who attended the party, not being on any mission at the moment.

Why did Steve feel like you needed a chaperone?

No, that was too harsh of a word for him, you were certain his intentions were everything but malicious, but… why?

 Walk me home in the dead of night I can't be alone with all that's on my mind, mhm So say you'll stay with me tonight 'Cause there is so much wrong going on outside

 The genuine wonder must have been audible in your voice, much like your shock must have been clear in your expression, because Steve seemed sheepish all of sudden, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly.

“Well, I mean, I know that you probably wouldn’t-“ he started, only to grimace. “It’s not that I think you’re an alcoholic! It’s just that... you--- and it’s only been-…“

-four days since you got dumped, you finished the unspoken sentence and tried your best to ignore the cold seeping into your bones at the reminder.

One of the reasons why you had been in a sour mood and deciding to drink alone. Your amazing asshole of a boyfriend had dumped you, metaphorically kicking you while you had already been down. Lovely.

“-I was worried. But you didn’t look like you were interested in having company, I didn’t want to be a bother and-“

You pulled Steve out of his misery by placing a hand over his forearm, which stopped the words spilling uncontrollably from his mouth.

He was actually being very sweet and thoughtful. It kinda made you feel bad, because… you weren’t looking for dragging someone down with you. As it was, he had his own reasons to not be happy about partying tonight, but feeling like he had to keep an eye on you probably didn’t help to lift his spirits.

“-and you had to spend some time with the woman of the hour,” you finished instead of him slowly, hoping you sounded at least half as thoughtful as he did and that you didn’t appear to be the greatest bitch, stealing attention from Sharon. “That’s understandable, Steve. It is her birthday party and I’m the one being antisocial.”

You bit down your lip, lowering your gaze, because the infamous worried wrinkle appeared on Steve’s forehead and you just knew he was about to protest and you… honestly felt bad about your behaviour and the welcoming colour of his eyes was not helping to make you feel any better, because of course he probably thought it was perfectly normal to look out for you instead of allowing himself to enjoy the night and- ugh.

“You… you shouldn’t have to look out for me. Your attention could have been fully on the birthday girl.”

Naturally, Steve Rogers basically shrugged it off. Covering your hand on him with his large palm, he slouched to look into your eyes once more. Insistent bastard, no doubt aware of your inability to say no to his amiable face.

“That’s what friends are for. Now, can I walk you home?”

You shook your head with a sad smile, rising your gaze towards the ceiling, hoping it came out as an exasperation at his stubbornness and not as it truly was – you in fact attempting to keep your tears at bay, because, miserable drunk, dumped four days ago apart from other things and there he was, asshole perfect, Steve fucking Rogers, gentleman and friend extraordinaire, caring for your well-being more than Jim ever had.

A twinkle appeared in his eye when he recognized he won and you chuckled, sealing his victory out loud.

“Yes, Steve. You can walk me home. It’s conveniently located on the way to yours.”

He smirked when he shrugged on his own coat. “Happy coincidences…”

 There's something in the way I wanna cry That makes me think we'll make it out alive So come on and show me how we're good I think that we could do some good, mhm

 Once you left the bar, silence fell on you, feeling heavy as did the cold November air.

Heavy and awkward. While you could tell with certainty you were barely affected by the alcohol you had drunk, your steps were wobbly, knees shaky as if you were a baby horse trying to stand up for the first time.

Steve walked by your side, majestic in his thigh-length coat, hands snugged in its pockets only halfway as if he was waiting for you needing his support. It irritated you as much as it warmed your heart.

On top of everything, you would swear every lone person you met stared at you, staring you up and down until they seemed to register Steve’s imposing frame and quickly went back to their business. It annoyed you to no end; it was just proving Steve’s point that you shouldn’t walk the streets alone at such hour, government agent or not.

“I would have been fine, you know,” you hummed, cautiously breaking the relative quiet.

It was never truly quiet in New York City, only rush hours alternating with calmer ones. You didn’t mind it; you enjoyed the city. Sometimes quiet meant that thoughts won the opportunity to become too loud; tonight, for some reason, despite the silence, Steve prevented that ever since he joined you.

It dawned to you then, how ungrateful you sounded and you quickly added “But thanks.” –  a whisper full of honesty.

“Uh-huh.”

Perhaps the silence weighted so much because your mood wasn’t the only cause of it.

Steve was showing you that he worried; surely, you could as well? Because you did, worry about him that was.

“…are you? Okay?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” he asked distractedly, but you could hear the frown on his face, the image of his nose scrunched in confusion painted in front of your eyes even without looking at him.

“Just… today-” you nudged him once more and vaguely eyed your watch only to be reminded that ‘today’ was a confusing term. “Or, more like, yesterday…”

A sharp inhale was drawn at your side and you could sense as he started closing off, putting up his walls so no one would catch a scent of his weakness. You hated when he tried to do that. You would have thought you were past that. You liked to consider you two friends at least.

Tonight was simply not your night. Of either of you, apparently.

“What about it-?“

You sighed, fighting the urge to roll your eyes. Were you truly such a crappy company, an insensitive friend or was there something sorrowful and cranky in the air, preventing your communication channels from tuning to the same frequency?

You were aware what the day meant for him – another painful reminder of what he had lost with crashing the plane in the forties only to wake up in a new millennium.

Though this particular loss – of his mother – haunted him even back in what some people called his days. It was an utter non-sense. Steve belonged there as much as he belonged here. He was brave enough to try and stubborn enough to succeed in fitting in.

“Nothing, I guess,” you sighed once more, this time rolling your eyes. “…Mr. Nothing Can Touch Me.”

The wry nickname hung in the air for a while, the faint noise of the night city washing over your pair. When Steve broke it again, there was a barely audible crack in his voice.

“I… I’m okay. I think. I… should be. It’s been so long. Decades,” he mused, turning his gaze to the sky. His eyes glistened and if you didn’t know him, hadn’t witnessed his walls lowering before, you would have thought it was just the streetlights reflecting.

You knew better. Tentatively, your fingers brushed his, not remembering when his hands had left his pockets. You were grateful for it now, especially when he didn’t retrieve from your touch instantly.

“Not for you,” you pointed out quietly, rewarded by the softest squeeze of his warm hand.

The heaviness and tension you had felt before resolved with the gesture. Something finally fell into place and you were almost you again and he was almost him.

Two figures, carrying their griefcases, but functioning and… harmonizing once more.

“How did you know?”

“That’s what friends are for, Steve,” you echoed his earlier words, sending a tiny smile his way, meeting his glassy gaze. “They remember important dates, good or bad.”

“No one else did. Not that I can actually hold it against Buck, of course... but no one… you…” his voice trailed off as he lost his train of thought – or perhaps he had never truly directed it to the station in the first place.

Your shoulders moved a fraction, a hint of a shrug-off. His hand wrapped around yours tighter in silent appreciation, not showing any sign of intending to let go.

And you were alright with that. More than alright.

Walk me home in the dead of night I can't be alone with all that's on my mind, mhm So say you'll stay with me tonight 'Cause there is so much wrong going on outside

Ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh Ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh

His presence was always immense, overwhelming even; yet so comfortable you didn’t have the slightest problem with opening your heart to him, offering it to him even when it was bleeding. And now, finally tuned together, it was no different.

You bared your heart to him, even if it hurt.

“She didn’t make it,” you whispered, voice pained in the dead of the night and he didn’t react, letting you to gather strength to elaborate. You cleared your throat as the lump grew in it.  “Kayla, one of the kids… from last week’s mission. I found out yesterday… she-she didn’t make it, she had too many injuries. Word is that perhaps it was even a blessing. A relief.”

“I’m so sorry,” Steve repented, his grip growing stronger just a fraction, enough to make your chest and eyes burn.

“Yeah, so am I.”

Whatever he heard in your voice, it caused his fingers twitch in your hand, his footsteps slowing down. “You know that wasn’t your fault, right?”

“Wasn’t it? If I was faster, if I-“

Steve stopped in his tracks completely, pulling at your hand to make you do the same and face him.

You closed your eyes when his blue ones met them, unable to stand the urgency in them. His free hand curled around your shoulder, caressing in attempt at comfort.

“Hey, hey, don’t do that to yourself.” Hypocrite, you threw back at him in your mind, stubbornly keeping your eyelids shut, simply knowing that if you saw the sincerity in his gaze in addition to the fervour he spoke with, you might actually believe him. “You did your best. I know that, Nat and Buck know, everyone does. A monster you helped to put behind bars hurt the kids. Not you. You saved so many lives.”

You shook your head with a sigh, staring straight ahead as you turned on your heels and continued your path. Steve, never letting go of your hand, followed reluctantly.

“Sometimes I think he might have been right, you know?”

Peripherally, you saw him frown again and you cursed yourself for drinking – it untangled your tongue and his stupid face made your spill your guts to him, vomit emotion. You weren’t too secretive about your feelings most of the time, but damn, you hated how alcohol pushed your boundaries of sharing them.

“… Jim. He said that maybe I should give it up. That I’m just running alongside you, heroes, pretending to be one of you, but in the end, I’m not even close to being as good-“

Steve’s feet took roots in the ground, his steely grip forcing you to stop – as long as you wanted to keep your hand attached, which yeah, you kinda did.

“I feel like taking a detour now,” he muttered darkly and for a short moment, confusion was everything you felt, blissfully overtaking the anger, the sorrow, the helplessness and the feeling of utter uselessness.

“Huh?”

“Where does Jim live?” Steve spitted out the name venomously and you couldn’t help the wave of affection washing over you. Affection towards this treasure of a man who apparently wanted to punch another human being because it offended his friend. “He has no business saying something like that. Especially if his bullshit actually affects you-”

“Steve, he wasn’t wrong, I’m just-“ you sputtered, caught off guard when you registered the fire in his glare.

“We all make mistakes. But that’s beside the point, because you didn’t even make any that day. I read the report, and I know you, you put everything you got and more into the rescue mission. How can he-“ he hissed, literally taking a calming breath as both of his hands balled into fist.

Well, one of them only nearly, since it was still holding yours. It actually stung a bit, the bones in your hand close to grinding against each other.

“-I haven’t met him many times, but if he said that instead of comforting you after an incredibly draining mission, then I’m glad that that asshole is gone from your life. … though I would still appreciate his address.”

Blinking away the few stray tears that welled up, you forced a smile as Steve’s strict glare found yours. It felt good, seeing his indignation; having someone else exasperated on how Jim had reacted. He should have given you a hug and hold you tight; that was what you would wish for. Instead, he told you to stop complaining and when you accused him of not supporting you, he called you a whiny bitch who should make up her damn mind and broke things off.

You deeply appreciated Steve’s display of chivalry, hell, you half-considered giving away the address just so Jim would hear someone else agreeing with you, but you were honestly just tired. And you had a feeling Steve wouldn’t stay only at words and seeing any more blood, any more aggression would have been too much for you tonight.

Tonight, you… you needed serenity and comfort.

“…thank you. That… that means a lot. But… maybe just walk me home? Please? Could you walk me home, Steve?” you pleaded softly, barely audible, not caring it sounded like weeping of a needy child.

Unbeknownst to you, that was the last thing you resembled in Steve’s eyes. Your imploring gaze, vulnerable and open, it moved something inside him, his anger silenced for the moment, leaving him defenceless, unable to say no. Not that he had an intention to do so. He always had trouble saying no to you.

So he forced his fists to relax, running his thumb over the back of your hand and whispered the only word that made sense.

“Always.”

You settled back to the comfortable silence after that.

 Walk me home in the dead of night 'Cause I can't be alone with all that's on my mind Say you'll stay with me tonight 'Cause there is so much wrong going on

 You reached the Tower hand in hand.

Neither of you released the other. Not during the elevator ride, not when you walked the halls lined with doors leading to each’s private quarters.

You were still holding onto each other when you came to a stop in front of your door; rest assured, Steve Rogers would lead you right to your door even if his was only at the end of the very same corridor.

Standing nearly chest to chest, his eyes bored into yours with seriousness that surprised you.

“For the record, you do a great deal of good,” he reassured you, saying it as if he truly meant it. It tugged at your heart, sweet and bitter. “You’re amazing and you’re the most authentic of all of us. I admire you.”

That claim caused you to chuckle. Now he was laying it on a bit thick, downright exaggerating.

“You admire me? Steve, that’s really nice of you to say, but don’t be ridi-“

Your words died in your throat when his large palm splayed over your cheek, cradling it gently. When the paddle of his thumb swiped over your other cheek, soft smile playing on his lips, his irises bright with a promise, time seemingly stopped along with your heart.

“And you’re a great friend to the whole team, a wonderful person. Do me a favour and finally learn to accept a compliment,” he asked of you in hushed voice, the electric blue and green of his eyes locking you in. “If he didn’t praise you enough for you to get used to it, he was doing something wrong.”

You gulped, a silly association with the word ‘praise’ allowing you to break from the cage of his gaze that had previously had your mind gone blank.

“I’m not a dog to be praised, Steve…”

One corner of his lips – and when did they got so close anyway? – twitched. And then a tender kiss landed on your forehead, just the softest brush of lips against your skin. The gesture, utterly incomprehensible for you, had your eyelids flutter shut.

“I’m very much aware. Believe me, doll, I know. Thank you for letting me walk you home.”

You only nodded at the ridiculous statement – why was he thanking you? – too perplexed at the fact his lips had made contact with your skin. When did you cross the line towards the delusional drunk?

His fingertips caressed your face as he let go, wishing you to have a good night. Too baffled, you were unable to respond until he had already made his way to his door and you suddenly missed the warmth of his presence.

Breaking free from your haze, you acted on impulse, apparently startling him when you called his name out of blue so urgently.

“Steve!”

Whipping his head around to look at you, you felt your heart jump into your throat.

“Uh… are you ready to go to bed or… or maybe… would you like to watch a movie or something?” With me?

I don’t think I’m ready to be alone. Ready to be without you.

Even from the distance, you would swear you saw his lips spread in a slow honey-sweet smile.

“I think I’d like that,” he called out lowly. “Ten minutes? I’ll get the blankets. You pick the movie.”

“See you in ten then.”

You pretended that your heart didn’t flutter, sending a wave of familiar tingle through your chest and to your fingers, as you slipped inside your room with your mouth curled up in a content smile.

 Walk me home in the dead of night I can't be alone with all that's on my mind So say you'll stay with me tonight 'Cause there is so much wrong There is so much wrong There is so much wrong going on outside

*✧･ Bonus *✧･

If Tony found them two and half hour later, closing credits rolling, the pair curled up and cuddling on the couch, you fast asleep in Steve’s arms, and he noticed that the supersoldier was in fact only faking to avoid an interrogation from the Ironman himself, he didn’t mention it. He just whispered to FRIDAY to turn off the TV and turn off the dimmed lights completely.

He hoped Rogers would treat you the way you deserved, unlike the man who now had farts announcing a received e-mail or texts, unable to change it, and a laptop turning on randomly, dead-pale children staring at him from the screen with hollow eyes and in clothes dripping water. Tony would hate to have to hack more tech again just to avenge your broken heart without your knowledge any time soon.

He’d rather suffer watching the two of his friends being disgustingly sweet on each other.

Probably.

*✧･*✧･*✧･*✧･*✧･*✧･*✧･

S.R. masterlist

*✧･*✧･*✧･*✧･*✧･*✧･*✧･

Silent thanks to the person who came up with the word ‘griefcase’ as an alternative to emotional baggage.

Also, I’m pretty sure songfics aren’t supposed to be so long... oops?

Thank you for reading!

[spiltscribbles]

Prompt: Pro Athlete Sirius because that my and Remus' kink

~Notes: OMFG VICTOrIA!!!! I FUCKING SCREECHED!!!! lkadfjlaksdgjoiaejfalskdgjioeugisfkldshg Yes tis my kink as well!!! And then I saw this from Nonny and worlds collided and BOOM! I hope you like this my love<3<3 You incredibly talented sugarplum!!! TBH I want to write a thousand more things in this AU XD

.-

FROM THIS LIST  |  Send Me A Prompt!💜 | A REBLOG MEANS THE GALAXY!!💜

.-

When Remus was young— surrounded by the light breeze of the Welsh coast and the harmony of birds chirping in the distance— he would follow his mother to their small garden behind their cottage  at the cusp of twilight as his father cooked their supper, and he’d watch as she laid flat all sorts of newspapers written in French and Arabic and English, watch as she brought her red pen against the ink and marked the articles with underlines and shorthand he wouldn’t understand for years still.

He asked her once, when he was barely eight years old, why she bothered to keep up with so many different publications, why she read the same story penned by countless perspectives when all the facts stayed the same at the end of the day. And he remembers how she had let out a quick, shrill of a laugh, tossing back her golden head while sucking in a puff from the bubbling hookah she had set up besides her— a habit she acquired from her Algerian, refugee parents, and one that became synonymous to those late nights in Remus’s eyes.

“Facts can be wielded to someone’s personal vendettas, Remus John,” she had crooned in that adoring way of hers whenever she spoke to him— honey eyes that were the same color and shape to Remus’s own flashing alight and their matching smiles going crooked in her stunningly beautiful face. 

“Oh.” Remus had replied, still confused as all get out but was perfectly fine with just holding his small vigil, watching her beneath moonlight and the soft glow of their outdoors lamps, as he listened to the shuffling of papers while she commenced this odd quirk. 

It’s a decade and a half later—  as his editor for the Phoenix, a small, but bustling online editorial that plans on dethroning the likes of Politico and Vox in only a matter of years, scans his latest findings on the corrupt boosters linked to MP Avery from Leeds— when Remus thinks he suddenly understands what his mother, with her keen eyes and pixelated air, had meant by facts in how they can be colored differently simply by the words surrounding them. And he wonders if one day soon, one of his bylines will join her little stack of stories, if she’ll be proud of him even if she says as much even now, when he’s a lost twenty-something stumbling through life in the capitol and barely making it as is, between his actual job and the gig he has at the coffee shop nearest his dingy flat he shares with three other blokes.

“Mmm, this is good, Lupin,” Dorcas declares after what feels like an eon, dropping her long, dark legs from where they were lounging leisurely on her desk and scuffs out her cigarette in a pretty, glass ashtray. “Send it over to Flores to look into deeper, maybe it’ll corroborate the info she’s already gotten from her sources.”

Remus feels himself bristle, hopes that it doesn’t show, that his face stays passive as he contends, “I think I should at least help her write the expose, I’m the one who got this bombshell.”

“That’s not how it works, sweets,” Dorcas toots, tossing back her dark head of curls as she rises, perching on the corner of her desk delicately and looking down, straight into his gaze. “I know it’s frustrating, but you’re fresh blood. barely six months here, but Alice has been with us for years. This is her baby, and we’re just here to nurture it.”

“So I’ll have to wait another ten months, at least,  to get the same treatment?” He argues in an admittedly petulant way, making Dorcas laugh endearingly, and Remus is suddenly,  searingly reminded of his age, and how he’s the youngest staffer that this London based news outlet has on hand. 

“C’mon, love, it won’t be that long for someone as sharp as you, just be patient, and don’t try to pull a Zoe Barnes on us, yeah? You’re far too pretty to clean up on the rails of  the tube.” Dorcas tousles a hand into his dark tawny curls, and Remus holds back the roll to his eyes that he feels willing up inside of him as he stands fully.

“Thanks Cas.”

She smiles beatifically, and throws him a wink. “You’re joining Emmy for the report tomorrow on those United footballers and their fundraiser for the hospital, yeah?”

“Bright and early,” Remus replies, still feels a bit miffed that he was chosen to write up the charity function, considering he doesn’t know a lick about football and doesn’t really get on with anyone who does. But Caradoc— their typical sports reporter— is out sick with the flew, so it’s on him. “I’ll have it on your desk early enough so it’ll be published by tea time.”

“Good man,” Dorcas says in thanks, picking up her crowing cellphone before waving him off.

Remus isn’t all that surprised when he strides out of the office only to find Benjy Fenwick sitting against the opposite wall, knees pressed to his chest and quickly scrambling up when he catches sight of Remus. Sometimes it’s impossible to believe that the bespectacled man in front of him is one of the top editors for the Phoenix, that he’s a regular corespondent for places like the BBC or CNN— that his rebukes against the piss poor inquiries waged during PMQs have become more anticipated than the sessions themselves. Remus tends to forget all of that when he sees him like this, messy haired and wearing a graphic T-shirt with some marvel superhero embossed on the front. “Wotcher Remus.”

“Hiya Remus says, smiling softly and rocking back on his heels. “You wanted to talk to the sergeant then?”

“Huh? Oh, no, no. I didn’t want to talk to Dorcas, I just— Erm, I know you were showing her that stuff you got from that intern, Pettigrew, and i know you were chafed about not getting any opportunity here so—“ He trails off, scratching the back of his head and studying a point over Remus’s shoulder, and it’s all too endearing, and Remus is so beyond thankful he’s made such a good friend here.

“No cigar,” he says in answer to the unspoken question, shrugging noncommittally even if he feels like shit over it.

Benjy nods, face contrite in a way that tells Remus he never thought it would’ve went otherwise. “I’m sorry, that’s bollocks.”

“’S whatever,” Remus shrugs off the apology, begins walking down the hall and straightening his report to hand over to Alice. 

“Ah,, erm. We can get a drink, yeah? In commiseration,” Benjy offers, and Remus stilts only for a beat before continuing the twisting trail to where Alice is set up with the more senior members on staff. And he feels only sorta bad about wanting to refuse. He knows that if he says yes, it’ll mean something different to Benjy than it does him, that he’ll probably take it as Remus finally giving into his pestering and deciding to actually go out with him, even if he’s refuted the other four times he’s asked as much. Remus’s simply just too busy trying to get a footing in this city, and trying to figure out where he’s suppose to go from here, and what he’s suppose to do. And yes, Benjy is cute— a complete Seth Cohen archetype. And he’s sweet and smart and funny enough. But Remus is really not in the mood for doing the whole flowers and wine and candle lit dinners shtick, had gotten enough of that while still with his university boyfriend. And yeah, he’s only just turned 24, but he already feels too old and too jaded for that sort of puppy love— even if Benjy’s got a good decade and some change on him.

Probably sensing his hesitation, Benjy is quick to rectify the offer. “I’ll ask Mary, and Fabian too, and a few others. We can make a night of it, just some drinks on a Friday after work.”

Stalling by the last turn to Alice’s desk, Remus looks at him from over his shoulder, and sort of hates himself for being such a soft hearted fuck sometimes. “Yeah Benj, sounds nice. Just let me know on the group chat, yeah?”

Benjy grins, much more genuine than his awkward quirk of the lips from earlier. “Yeah, good call, I’ll let the others know pronto.”

“Aces,” Remus says, tosses him a obligatory thumbs-up before finding an expectant looking Alice who’s tapping her foot impatiently.

Yeah, today is so bloody shit.

.-

Surprisingly, the round of drinks turns to another and then a third and fourth and Remus is currently nursing his fifth mango margarita on Benjy’s tab, and he actually feels lighter than he has since taking the job at Phoenix, feels bright and bubbling and like absolutely nothing could be wrong as long as he’s got this drink in his grasp and he’s sitting with the handful of reporters and photographers from the office that don’t all have sticks up their asses. It’s fun, it’s good. So obviously it couldn’t have lasted.

Mary is currently cackling about her Uber driver from last night who asked her all sorts of well meaning, but incredibly dense questions about her hijab— a freshly poured glass of coke in one hand, while the other is tangled into her girlfriend Emmy’s. And From his left Remus can hear Fabian ribbing Frank on his crush on Alice, while Benjy scoots intermittently closer as they watch Kingsley and Marlene sparring over something to do with a Kardashian or TikTok trend or whatever the fuck else— The guy has resilience, Remus has to give Benjy that.

“Right, who’s buying next?” Marlene asks, abrasive as ever while scrolling through her phone, ostensively finding something to prove her point against the managing editor.

“Reckon it’s my turn,” Benjy crows, standing up smoothly and glancing down at Remus with a nervous sort of half grin.

“Just a water for me, ta. I need to sober up,” Remus tells him, feels proud that he didn’t even slur slightly. Benjy bobs his head understandingly, and Remus turns to ask Marlene about her latest tinder hookup which always is a good laugh, but then he catches on it. On the sound of the pub’s doors flinging open, followed by a raucous crowd of athletic looking guys probably only a bit older than he is, clambering indoors. 

They’re all so very sixth-form, broad grins and slapping each other’s shoulders with jeers, topped off with loud, bark like laughter that makes it obvious to Remus that these wankers think that they’re some sort of group of gods amongst men, roaming around like everyone should fall to their feet and offer everything they have. It makes Remus roll his eyes so far back that it feels like he might’ve sprained them. They just give off this exhausting aura that reminds him of a past boyfriend in tenth year who was on the footie team and who’s favorite activity was either making Remus feel lucky enough to go out with someone so popular, or dragging him around like some sort of bloody trophy.

To put it nicely, Remus sorta hates them on sight. So when he sees one of the tossers— regrettably the brightest of the lot who’s all pearly teeth, and glittering eyes and incredibly impressive shoulders that tape off to a narrow waste in an objectively infuriating matter— swivels up to the barkeep and jostles Benjy on his way, well Remus doesn’t hesitate to dart forwards to tell him off.

“Oi, watch where you’re going, yeah?”

Benjy and the bloke who looks like he might moonlight as a model for Calvin briefs for when he’s not lounging in a yacht off the Tuscany coast, both turn to him at the same time. Benjy looking abashed, and the aforementioned tosser preening like the cat who’s just caught a canary.

“Sorry, love. Didn’t see you there,” he says in a delightfully deep tenner, giving Remus an appreciative once over, and Remus absolutely despises how the action makes him feel both thrilled and irritated. “Trust and believe, I wouldn’t have looked away if I saw you.”

“Not me, arse.” Remus spits back, refuses to pay any credence to how his cheeks have begun to flush. “You bumped into my mate right there, the one with the tray of loggers.”

The tosser darts his almost molten gray eyes over to Benjy for a sparing second before he laser focusses back onto Remus, the most phony expression of contrition all over his face. “Sorry to your friend,” he says the descriptor like a joke that no one else is in on. “Let me buy you a drink in sorry for the one I made slim here spill.”

Remus is officially unimpressed, hopes that his flat tone gets it across. “You’re an arse.”

“You’re mouthy,” he retorts, looks like it’s something he greatly appreciates— delights over even. 

“Ah, ’s fine Remus, really. I’ll just bring these back and get us a new glass.”

“Listen to slim, Remus, he’s got the right idea.” The tosser hurriedly interjects, strutting close enough to him that he makes it so Remus has to tip his head back just slightly so not to drop his gaze. “I’m Black, Sirius Black, just to get the pleasantries out of the way.” His leer tells Remus that the name should probably evoke some response of aw into Remus, but all it does is make him sound so egregiously pretentious that Remus wants to smack his own bloody head against a dry wall and stay in the hole until this ruddy Sirius bloke leaves him the hell alone.

“Good for you,” he says instead of all of that, and spots Sirius’s friends from behind Sirius chuckling and elbowing one another. Evidently this is a line the tosser uses frequently, and Remus is pleased that he might be one of the first who aren’t at all impressed by the grandiose way he introduced himself.

“Hah, you know I’m use to the pretty ones playing hard to get, but I’m really feeling here that you’re not exactly liking my company, love.”

Remus sucks in a frustrated breath through his nose, shouldering past Sirius and taking the tray of drinks from Benjy before storming back to their table where the others have begun openly gawping at the scene— Marlene outright squawking with Fabian just as Remus takes his seat.

“Don’t,” Remus warns them all as he silently says fuck off to the water and instead gargles down one of the loggers. And if he has to steadfastly not turn around for the rest of the night towards where he can feel Sirius’s gaze burning into his back— well then so be it.

.-

The next morning, Remus has to puke twice into the toilet, and gulps down three aspirins just to stave off his bloody hangover from the night before where he decided that getting properly sloshed would prove as a good technique to not end up making out with Sirius in some dark corner— or regrettably the backseat of his car. And if he does still remember flashes of ranting to him about how insufferable preppy, rich boys actually are while Sirius gazed at him endeared— well Remus just decides to purge it out along with the stomach acid. It’s not like he’ll ever see the douche again.

.-

He meets Arthur— one of the accountants who also helps out by taking photos for more low key news stories— outside the hospital where the conference will be taking place with the Manchester United team. There was a scrimmage that they all played with some of the kids in the cancer ward that occurred at around eight in the ruddy morning, but thankfully Remus didn’t have to show up until an hour later when the team presented their big shiny check, to the big, shiny hospital. 

However, Arthur has been here for hours, so he’s beyond chirpy and looks like he’s downed three cups of espresso as he chatters on about his son Percy starting secondary school, and his eldest, Bill, getting an award for his reading prowess, and all the strange craving his wife has been having throughout her pregnancy with the twins they’re expecting any week now. And Remus loves Arthur, he does— one of the sweetest folks he’s ever met— but God, his head is still thrumming from those misguided tequila shots and he really just wants to get his three quotes, and write up the story so he can find refuge back in his sheets.

While Arthur has moved to talking about his wife, Molly’s, plans to open up a daycare in their refurnished garage, Remus scans his eyes over the familiar face of reporters from other outlets who look just as bored as him, and then to the stage where a woman in a sharply pressed suit is ushering for the group of football stars to join her, so that the conference can finally fucking begin. 

And Remus thinks that their faces are sorta familiar, probably from all the publicity they get on the telly— but then he freezes as he stops at one of them with dark brown skin, and thick rimmed spectacles— and he suddenly can hear him chatting about his redheaded girlfriend and drunkenly declaring that she’ll be the mother of his children some day soon. So he completely expects it when his stomach drops as he moves his glance just a bit to the right, being struck by pearly teeth, and glittering eyes and incredibly impressive shoulders that tape off to a narrow waste, made all the more infuriating by the tight kit he’s got on and the blazing number twelve splayed against his chest.

And fuck.

Remus runs through about a dozen scenarios in which he can make a discrete, or not so discrete exit before he notices him, but in tandem to his spiraling thoughts, the wanker actually looks forwards, and like a creepy metal detector, his quick silver gaze pinpoints onto Remus.

They stare at one another for a beat before his smirk goes wolfish, and he runs a hand through his artfully tousled hair in a way that practically screams, fancy meeting you here. And holy fuck he looks so mouth watteringly attractive with that faint film of sweat running down his neck, and how his smile pulls slightly more to the left, and how he’s looking at Remus like he’s his birthday and Christmas presents all rolled into one.

Remus suddenly hates everything— but most of all hates Sirius, and how bloody fit he is.

“Oh, you’re a fan then?” 

Starting, Remus shifts around slightly so that he’s facing Arthur completely. “Pardon?”

“Sirius Black I mean, you’re a fan?” Arthur asks in that abrasively congenial and intensely scrutinizing way that he treats everything. “I mean he’s a great player, but I know you don’t really watch. So I bet it’s all that charity work he does, yeah?”

“Charity work?” Remus echos, feeling like a floundering fish.

“Truly some amazing stuff.” Arthur pontificates, rubbing a hand against his jaw as he tips his head back. “I mean obviously I’m partial to the fundraising for Reporters Without Borders, but of course the things he does with the more impoverished kids is great. And I know Molly likes his very outspoken posts about being anti war and his annual live streams to earn money for refugees in those war torn nations, like the last one he did for Syria?”

“Oh—“ Remus says, feeling like his head is being overrun by a fountain of new information.

“Yes well, you don’t usually see athletes get into the thick of it with political issues, but I reckon he never really minded. I mean the fact he’s the first football star from United to have come out without any fanfare really proved that. Oh, I think they’re starting, I should probably get some photos before Dorcas gives me a tongue lashing.”

And as quick as the flash of his camera’s lends, Arthur is using his considerable height to get to a more advantageous spot towards the front, and leaves Remus in the dust, as if he hasn’t just obliterated his every assumption of Sirius from after that initial meeting.

And unbidden, the words his mother had told him so many years ago, about facts and how they can color a situation just simply based off the person who’s speaking them— flood to the forefront of his mind.

“Fucking hell,” Remus mutters lowly, gets jostled by Greengrass, a hawkish reporter from a rivaling publication who always has on the most wickedly sharp acrylic nails, and perfectly quaffed curls— as she waves around her certification to speak her inquiry.

“My question is for Potter,” she announces when the woman leading the event, McGonagall, points her way. “And I was wondering how early you boys have to rise for training during the season? And how intense the sessions are that Coach Hooch puts you guys through?”

Potter, the one with the redheaded girlfriend that Remus heard so much about last night between his ranting at Sirius, parts his lips, but it’s not his voice that ends up reverberating through the outdoors space. Instead, it’s Sirius, who’s shouldering him with a goading air, obviously expecting his comment to have only ended up in Potter’s ear and not caught by the mike.

“I wonder if Lupin will let me wake up with’m so he can let me get some real training done before practices, eh?”

And just as soon as his words pitter off, the entire crowd drops to a hush— quiet enough so that they could probably hear it if a pen dropped. 

Sirius’s handsome face— strong jawline, and broad but sharp cheekbones, and a long, narrow nose— goes suddenly ashen, and he flashes over to Remus as if he’s terrified that he’ll bite his face off.

God, what an idiot.

With a long suffering sigh, Remus plucks out the microphone from a slack faced Greengrass’s hand. “We can discuss the regimen afterwards, Black. Just meet me by the front doors and let your mate answer the bloody question.”

Everyone around them falls into laughter that’s caught between uncomfortable chuckles and amazingly amused cackling, but the only person Remus is paying any mind is Sirius, and how he seems to have gone absolutely incandescent, nodding electrically before miming the zip of his lips and gesturing for Potter to carry on.

Jesus help him, Remus has no idea what he’s gotten himself into.

.-

~My Wolfstar FIC Masterlist

~Buy Me A Coffee 

[testingcheats0n]

Massive Dream SMP Fic Rec!!

Hey- Hi, I just feel like there are a ton of fanfiction that's really underrated in this fandom- so I'm going to dump it on your dash!!! Most of it is going to be Tommy-centric or SBI-centric, but they are very good!

Source: Me

Finished Fanfics:

Multi-chaptered Fanfics:

that's, like, a hundred miles by No_one_you_know

Dream would kill him. Dream was going to kill him- he was going to- no, he wouldn’t. Dream was his friend- friends don’t hit each other- Dream was supposed to take care of him- Dream /was/ taking care of him.

It hurt to breathe. It hurt to think. He couldn’t clear his thoughts as he stumbled to the family computer, pulling up a tab on google and frantically typing the name into the search bar.

The words Technoblade Watson stared back at him, the little black bar at the end of the letters blinking slowly, mocking him.

Why, of all people, did it have to be Technoblade?

in short: the one where dream sucks as a parental figure, tommy runs away, and visits his least favorite family member technoblade

Hard-hitting, but has a happy ending, though I recommend reading the prequel (in the same series) first, otherwise, it's lowkey depressing.

MORE RECOMMENDATIONS BELOW THE CUT!!

you’ll rise above (crowned by an overture bold and beyond) by azvremoon

Tommy is not sixteen. He has faced too many open wounds, dripping ichor onto blood-stained warzones, to be just a child. He is Blood and War and needless Death, an all-in-one special of everything that can ruin reality.

(Tommy is the blood god. No one should know, but this server can't stop pushing him over the edge.)

+2 more Works that were Inspired by this one

Tommy is a BAMF and Dream, Technblade, and Phil get fucked it is what it is.

Responsible Forever by SilverWing15

“You become responsible, forever, for what you have tamed.” /////

“So,” Techoblade says, slow and deliberate, his face shows clearly just how unbelievable he finds all of this, “you saw a boy last night, in the middle of the night, living with raccoons and eating our garbage?”

“I know how insane it sounds,” Phil says, “but I know what I saw. We need to help him, who knows how long he’s been out here?”

“Okay,” Wilbur interrupts, “let’s say that raccoon-boy is real. What is it you want us to do? We can’t go searching the woods for specific bunch of raccoons, I don’t know if you’ve noticed Phil but there are a lot of them out there.”

“Going out and hunting him isn’t going to get us anywhere,” Techno says, “we have to let the raccoon-boy come to us. He’s already come once, you know how tenacious raccoons are. If they came to the garbage pit once, they’ll come again. We just have to set a trap.”

“Those raccoons aren’t gonna know what fucking hit them,” Wilbur mutters.

Or: RaccoonInnit taken well beyond its logical conclusion

Tommyinnit is a Raccoon boi that lives with other Raccoons

Protecting the Traumatised Youth by spookyserpent

Sam blinks. “What?”

Even behind the mask, Sam has the distinct impression that Dream is grinning at him. “A week and he was begging for my attention, even after I stole and burnt his armour, even after the beatings. He couldn’t stand me leaving him because I was the only one to show up, to pay him attention. It was hilarious.”

Sam is going to be sick.

Or, Sam decides to ask Dream about his intentions and ends up becoming a big brother to Tommy and Tubbo. All the while, Dream and George fight, Niki and Jack plan child murder and Ranboo is slowly getting adopted into the SBI.

Awesamdad written back when it was possible... ahhh

Chaos In a Bottle by Lovetribable

After a realization, Tommy leaves the pillar, but instead of going to Techno. He just disappears, leaving everyone to think he's gone.

It takes a war to bring him back.

+2 Sequels and an Alternative Ending

Dadinnit!! + A Sympathetic Dream

Absolutely Anything For Them by Numanum

“There’s a lot you don’t understand, Tubbo,” Dream sighs, meeting his eyes cooly. Tubbo, back against a tree, shudders at his tone, at the look on his face.

The sword at his neck skims across his skin as Dream shifts his grip on it, and he flinches back into the rough bark behind him. Dream smiles at his reaction, seeming pleased- like the cat that’s been toying with a mouse that always tries to run no matter how many times it’s caught. And, despite this being his first encounter alone with the man, he thinks that the comparison is fairly accurate; Tubbo has never felt smaller than he does now. There’s supposed to be a buddy system to prevent things like this- he shouldn’t be alone here, stuck in this situation.

Or: Tubbo becomes a traitor to save everyone and has to struggle with his choices

Traitor Tubbo, but it has the happiest ending possible since it follows the rest of the story.

Where Did You Come From, Kit? by KadeAK (zacixn)

Hybrids are an ancient species of humans crossed with animals, blessed with the favour of nature. They used to live in peace on the SMP’s land, but ever since the dawn of humanity’s modern culture, they have become ostracised and hunted by their once-brethren. Now, the once-thriving subspecies of hybrids have been reduced to ashes, the majority of their peoples struggling to survive in a city capital that can't stand their presence.

To the members of L’Manburg, General Wilbur Soot is just another mildly prejudiced human being, stuck with a hybrid fox kit for an adopted child. However, that assumption could not be farther from the truth. As it turns out, there's a reason why he is the man he is today.

This fic is entirely pre-L’Manburg.

Part of a series, very good.

Take It Easy by sweet_magnolias

Five times Techno scared Michael, one time Michael scared him, and the resolution of those fears.

AKA - Techno learns how to be an uncle.

Technoblade's POV, so expect some Tubbo bashing on the margins of all that Michael fluff.

I suppose it’s never my time to die, is it? by Birb_Whale

The first time it happens, he barely remembers. The second time is when he realized. The third... Twice is a coincidence, three times is a pattern

“It’s not your time to die yet, Tommy”

Messed up, but not unrealistic. Purely for the Hurt/Comfort lovers.

This Wasn't Planned, But It'll Work Out by Anonymous

Dream isn't sure what to think when he finds a kid on his doorstep, but he can't just leave him there, now can he?

(He doesn't know what he's getting into, or what he's gotten the kid into, either)

Long, and angsty, with a bittersweet ending Imo.

let's play a game by Aria_Cinabun

Tommy was once a slave. That's gone now - shoved in his past with the memories of blood and gore and death. He wants to forget who he was; what he has to do to survive. Of course, the Elementalists will always come back to haunt him. They aren't the ones who killed his mother, but they're close enough. And now he and his brother have been dragged into the mess, as Elementalists with their own, separate covens, to find the Pit - the place where he'd lived and killed and hurt for the first twelve years of his life. His coven can't know. Can't know who he really is, what he can really do. Can't know anything about his past. He doesn't want a coven full of Elementalists who don't trust him; one of whom he's pretty sure despises him. He doesn't want that life. He wants the life of a pickpocket, on the streets, because nobody questions street kids, and nobody comes asking about his past and pushes him to tell his secrets that he holds closest inside. Tubbo tries to tell him to trust people. But trust is how you die.

Good fantasy AU, has SBI, and is thus fluffy.

Turn of the Tide by SilverWing15

Tommy’s fins twitch at the mention of Dream’s ancestors. Dream talks about them a lot, how they made their fortune hunting down mer pods, how they were cruel and greedy. Nothing like Dream is. They’ve both overcome their roots he says.

Tommy is nothing like the wild mer out in the ocean, who spend their lives scraping by just to survive, who kicked him out of the pod when he was a baby because he was too small. He’s also better than the pit mer, who can’t overcome their wild instincts and know nothing but fighting.

He’s different from them, he’s better than them. He’s Dream’s. //// OR: Change is like the tide, when it comes, you can only sink or swim. You would think that a mer would be better at keeping afloat.

Mermaid AU Pooog. Part of a series.

One-Shots:

Snapped by AmberRunnel

“You don’t know what I went through in that prison cell.”

Jack burst out laughing, blinded with rage and the overwhelming urge to hurt Tommy, to give him everything he deserved. “Oh, is the poor child traumatized? You want pity now?” He twisted his blade, and Tommy’s axe was sent clattering to the ground.

“If the prison was so awful, why don’t I send you back there?”

-|-

Jack doesn't handle Tommy's revival well. There's a simple solution, though. Kill Tommy, and Dream revives him right back into that cell. Problem solved, kid dealt with.

It takes a few confrontations for Jack to realize he's an asshole.

It's fucked up, but god does it hurt in a good way.

the sky is coming down blue by salinesolution

An imagining of New Milo's perspective throughout the Skyblock Randomizer adventure. What did he think of the world he found himself in, and how did Wilbur's feelings and actions change things for him? Here's my way of answering those questions.

He made the fish think, funniest shit I've seen.

You told me to be a hero (so let me die like one) by spiromachia

"You told me to die like a hero," the blond interrupted, spinning on his heel to face the others, holding his arms wide open, "So why not fulfil the ending that was always meant to be."

Across the battle field, through the chaos and destruction, a tree burned.

Even the sound of explosions and cries and bloodshed felt distant enough for the world to become silent for a few moments, each individual slowly coming to the same conclusion, each of their bodies tensing.

Tommy's face broke out into a grin as he lowered his head, glowering at the people around him, and Philza's face flashed with recognition.

"Kill me."

Or... In the middle of Doomsday, Tommy decides to ask Technoblade to be the Lycomedes to his Theseus.

Heavy and dark, but at least Dream gets it.

tomorrow night by meridies

Tommy is desperately searching for his missing brother. Techno is the reluctant psychic who unfortunately got dragged along.

or, two people, more alike than different, learn what it is to have a family at their side.

It's cute what can I say :]

maple syrup by itisjosh

"We could run," Tubbo stares at the sun. "We've got everything we've ever wanted right here. We could run."

"Yeah," Tommy agrees, feeling his head swim. "We could."

(or, tommy and tubbo run away together)

Children get away from toxic adults :)

Why’d it have to be so sunny? (The sun shouldn’t shine without you.) by AToZRainToBe

‘A realisation hits Phil in the face like a truck. “Wi- Ghostbur,” Phil says, turning to his grey-scale, translucent, actually-dead son. “You definitely told Tubbo that Tommy’s alive, right?”’

To get away from Dream, Tommy agrees to fake his death, going with the cover story that he jumped from the pillar in Logstedshire. Unfortunately, someone forgot to tell Tubbo.

Misunderstandings are one of my favorite tropes.

sugar and ice by princedemeter for Aenqa

“He is my son,” Philza says. “Mortal or not, I would see him grow strong.”

Technoblade looks down on earth, at the tiny, angry bundle of cloth and pinking, wrinkled skin. This mortal child, he thinks, lungs filled with breath from the king of gods himself, will not grow strong.

It's mostly centered around Technoblade and Wilbur with Phil being a shitty dad. Pog Gods AU.

a matter of time by meridies

Tommy is twelve years old when his wings first appear, and he is twelve years old when Phil tells him, "All it takes is time and patience, Tommy, and soon you'll be flying even better than me."

or, Tommy grows up feeling like a failure, and it takes him a while to figure out where he's happiest.

Tommy is just finding his place in the world. Powers AU.

That Time a Baby Decided to Raise a Baby by Scitrust

Tubbo wasn't good at making excuses, so when Schlatt asked him why he was leaving in the night, he made something up on the spot. That had been months ago.

At least he sort of had an alibi for that, now.

Or, in which Tubbo finds a baby in the woods on his way to see Tommy, and promptly adopts it.

Part of a collection!! Read it all.

spider lily by blue000jay

Wilbur has a body.

The freckle on the base of his left pinky finger (shared with Techno). The scar on his chin from when he was twelve and over ambitious, diving into too-shallow water. The scar on his throat from the final control room, and the puckered skin on his shoulder from the poisoned arrow that killed him next. Various other nicks and things that litter his skin from years of rebellion and living wild, a kid thrown into a vicious world with too little self-preservation.

(Resurrection AU, for when/if Wilbur comes back.)

The author knows how it's like to live with chronic pain, and it shows :(

Hands tied loose by rabiddog

"Let's run away, Tubbo." Tommy breathed; a wide grin split across his face as his hope grew. "Let's get out of here – far away. We can go anywhere, can't we? Let's just go, you and me right here, right now."

-

Tommy needs to leave. He has to get out of L'Manburg, he has to leave the Dream SMP for his own sanity, and he wants Tubbo to come with him.

But Tubbo has a family now, a better life - something that he can't give up... not even for his best friend.

Unhappy ending :(

The serpent underneath by rabiddog

Tommy and Techno sit at the memory-filled bench and talk. Technoblade reminisces, he talks, he admits his pent-up feelings, he cries. And Tommy? Tommy listens. (That's all he can do.)

-

“I’m sorry for everything, you know? For all of it. I’m so sorry about... about the first war, about the withers and the fighting, about...” Technoblade's fingers began to curl around Tommy’s blonde locks. “About Wilbur and everything after. I'm so, so sorry.”

:((((((((

Damning choices by rabiddog

Ranboo would have never expected to find himself in a horrifying situation such as that one - quite literally sandwiched between a rock and a hard place, with three lives dangling over his head and the answer on the tip of his tongue.

Tubbo, Michael, Tommy.

It's his choice. He chooses who lives, and who dies. His new family, or his first friend. But Ranboo... Ranboo already knows.

-

"Ranboo," He hissed out, voice cracking and somewhat staticky, "It's not your fault. It's not. You had no other choice; I know that, okay? I- I know that- I know- I know..."

:(((((((((((((((((((((((((((

Jealousy is a disease by rabiddog

Tommyinnit isn't new to the idea of jealousy. He understands it completely. He understands the way it runs rampage through his body each time he catches even a glimpse of Tubbo and Ranboo's new relationship, he understands that the emotion makes his heart clench uncomfortably from time to time. He sees it, feels it, and yet he doesn't care.

He doesn't care at all.

-

"You took Tubbo away from me. You took him away. You took my best friend, and now he's- now he's not my best friend anymore, and I-!"

:)

Word of Honour by rabiddog

Tommy could only stand and stare as Technoblade agreed to hand him over to Dream - as his brother traded him off like he was nothing. Like Tommy wasn't important.

-

Technoblade was a man of honour. He was a man of pride and sticking to his word. He knew that he owed Dream a favour, and no matter what that favour might be, he'd be compliant with it. Nothing would change his mind. (Not even Tommy.)

Almost canon. F.

Sweet Repentance by rabiddog

Perhaps Tommy should have told Phil about his arguably life-threatening injury the minute his father had opened the door. But of course, Tommy being Tommy, did not.

Dying seemed like a nice enough option as long as he was with his family.

-

Tommy just wanted acceptance, forgiveness, and peace. He wanted to close his eyes for the last time and finally be able to let go.

Tommy dies painfully.

A White Tulip by astervoid

He picked the white tulip from the bottom of the stem, standing up carefully as he held it pinched between his fingers. It would die now, inevitably, but Tommy relented and held the flower to his chest. What a silly, stupid thing to ground him. He almost hated that it made his breaths come easier and his steps feel lighter. Almost.

Tommy & Ranbooo chill on the bench.

lying to the authorities (again) by touchgrass

"Please tell me that my right-hand-man, my soon-to-be vice president, one of the people I trust the most on this godforsaken server, did not lie straight to my face and tell me he was twenty-fucking-years-old.”

Tommy opened his mouth to protest, but then closes it shut at the furious look on Wilbur's face. Oops.

~

It is the day of the elections and Wilbur Soot could not have chosen a worser time to realize that half his staff is underage.

The ONLY fic with this premise I've seen on Ao3.

Dear Theseus by rabiddog

Tommy had thought that they'd won - thought that they'd finally beaten Dream, and that everything would be okay. As it turns out, however, apparently Dream had called in that favour from Technoblade after all.

-

“Please,” Tommy whispered after a beat, quivering hands edged upwards to hesitantly press against the tip of the sword striking through his chest. Why, why, why? Why him? Why now?

Tommy almost wins.

A Shifting World by AplusIsRoman

How was Wilbur supposed to know it would end like this?

The smoke hung in the air and soot clung to his skin. His brother - adopted, but older by two minutes - stood back-to-back with him. The chilling cries of people and the calls of the withers rang through the air above the chasm that was once his home.

This wasn’t supposed to happen.

How could he have known this would happen?

-

Sequel to A Child's World

Age-swap AU. Has a prequel.

heart of the sea by RyDyKG

Here is the secret that he barely thinks about, a secret that he shoves deep and far down in himself:

Wilbur Soot is a siren, and he’s not exactly proud of that fact.

Wilbur-centric. Urban Fantasy AU.

He knows, ok? by Ralli

By some means, Techno has given his raccoon younger brother some cotton candy. It doesn’t end as well as either of them would like.

Very, very cute :)

that's it, it's split (it won't recover) by Jk_Kat

Tommy has always been the fighter.

He has never been the fought for, and he knows it, with every whisper Tubbo directs at Ranboo, with every glance thrown his way- Tommy knows, the way he wishes he didn't, that they think he's dead.

If they're so convinced he's still dead, maybe the one good thing left he can do for them is die.

---

Or, Tommy gets addicted to being dead and thinks that nobody cares about him. The people who very much do try to pull him back from the brink before Dream can't resurrect him anymore.

Messed up, but with a happy ending.

Hugs 'n PTSD by rabiddog

Ranboo knew from the start that the recovery process would be hard - that moving on from quite literally being beat to death would be something hugely difficult to step away from, and that's if Tommy could even manage it at all.

He knew that it would be stressful and arduous, demanding and tough... he just hadn't expected to be holding Tommy through a PTSD-induced panic attack only days after his release from Pandora's Vault.

-

Ranboo isn't typically an overbearingly protective person. But for Tommy? He just might be.

I love this author if you can't tell.

Big Men don't cry by Shiny22Snivy

The room is small and warm, almost stifling compared to the cool openness of the ravine. It’s cosy and candlelit, and a chest sits open in the corner, full of what looks to be burnt rags of a former smart suit. And sitting in rumpled blankets on a bed, cradling a mug of something steaming, sits Tubbo.

At first, Tommy forgets all about Niki’s vague warning. He’s just so happy to see his best friend again, alive and well and all in one piece. Tubbo’s okay. Tubbo’s okay, and in front of him, and suddenly everything bad in the world is gone, if only for just a moment.

“Tommy?”

And then Tubbo turns to look at him.

Clingyduo fluff.

sins of the father (i broke all my bones that day i found you) by ryter

The thing that hurt Wilbur most was when he saw Fundy tear down the walls of L'Manburg. After all, those walls had gone up to protect his son. But in this world, Fundy trusts his father just a little bit more, and it ruins him.

Or: there's only one way Wilbur never becomes the villain. It's unclear whether this was the better path.

SOME VIOLENCE WARNINGS/BLOOD MENTION. CHARACTER DEATH. SO MUCH ANGST.

Sad, but cathartic.

REVIVED TOMMY HEADCANNONS AHAHAHAHA by racooninnit

i’m dropping ALL the fucking revived tommy headcannons on you guys today get ready for some ANGST

this is different from what i usually post but it was fun

i don’t think there’s a lot i need to put warnings for, obviously there are mentions of the way tommy died and the aftermath of that (i.e. injuries and trauma), but if there’s anything that needs a warning please tell me!

What it says on the tin- not really a fic.

Unfinished Stories:

Ongoing (Less than a month since the last update):

Over the River Styx by CorpseArt

I feel like we should name him.

There’s a scuffle at the back of his mind as he rolls up, curling tight with a shiver despite the heat of the flames licking up his back.

I mean, he’s like – us, but like a worse version clearly because oh man, this is just weirdness. There’s a flare of a tangle of emotions, complicated and fearful, resentful and livid with anger. I can’t believe this is what I’ve been reduced to, stuck in the mind of this- this child.

He’s like your age, Tommy. Are you calling yourself a child?

I mean, I am one so fucking duh. Child murderer.

-

Or: trauma bonding in the most unconventional of senses.

Just- Read it. Show the writer your support, it's unique, it's amazing and there needs to be more of it.

If history is dead and gone by iregretallmydecisions

“Don’t come any fucking closer,” Tommy shouted, startling Phil into stepping back. Tommy was still looking around wildly, like a trapped animal “Don’t fucking do it.” ---- In which Tommy finds himself faced with his splintered family, while it was still mostly whole. The past is not an easy place to be when the future was not kind. His family is forced to deal with the fall out.

It's better than Rewind, but you didn't hear that from me.

Wilbur Soot's Redemption (OR Ghostbur's Retry) by luckykitty0523

Wilbur had many regrets in his life, being lost in his madness and the urge for revenge drowned leaving a shell of who he once was. It was only in his dying moments that he regained himself but it was already too late for him leaving him drowning in wishes and regrets. However waking up in another different universe where wilbur was never born and family soulmates exist, so when wilbur said he wanted to fix the mistakes he never expected this turn of events.

OR

In one world wilbur dies and he would return as a ghost missing his memory and trying to fix what he did in life but in this one wilbur dies and wakes up in another world where soulmates exist and the wilbur of that world was never born so wilbur/ghostbur takes his place and tries to make up his mistakes to the other version of his friends.

Wilbur adopts SBI + Fundy + Dream.

A Talk Long Overdue by penink

Tommy has his first therapy session with Puffy.

Tommy gets therapy.

Into the Night by Interjection

“Don’t touch me,” Tommy hisses, leaning against the railing. “I will - I will-”

They’re a hundred stories up. Wind lashes against Phil’s face. Next to him, Sam makes choked noise.

“But why?”

Tommy looks up to meet Phil’s eyes, terror struck so deep in those pale blue irises Phil thinks they must hold all the world’s fears within them.

“You’ll die,” he whispers. “And then I’ll die. But I’ll come back.”

“And I don’t want to come back.”

Others have the freedom to live. Tommy doesn’t even have the freedom to die.

But maybe they can teach him that living doesn’t have to be so bad.

---

(Superpowers AU where whenever someone touches Tommy, they both die. But Tommy will always come back to life eventually. He just wants it to end - but instead, he’s on the run, terrified of how his power will be exploited if he’s caught.

A few people reluctantly team up to save him.)

Funky SBI dynamics + a Sam that cares. Also a lot of angst.