#these things happen though

[sterekotypes]

Snippet Sunday

I've been working on this cowboy AU for days upon days. I've tentatively named it Bite of the Hell Hound.

As usual this is an open call for anyone who wants to play along. Tagged by @dear-massacre. Wish I had something I was more dedicated to sharing, but we ball.

From Chapter 1:

Stiles heard the beat of hooves first. He couldn’t see through the dust storm stirring up around him. Squinting barely prevented the sands and dusts from stinging his face and eyes. He wrapped his coat tighter around himself and the tallow and trudged in the direction he thought the bordello was in. He was a fool not to take the warnings of Old Man Grindle’s hip more seriously. The wind tugged him this way and that. At times it was all he could do to remain anchored to the ground. When he heard the quick beat of hooves, he dropped heavily to the shifting ground and ducked his head between the lapels of his jacket. The storm was loud. The dust particles were bruising. Each bit of dust carried on the wind needled into any bare skin it could touch. Stiles squinted through the debris.  The horse reared over Stiles. It’s massive hooves swinging through the browned air. The whiny was soft in comparison with the howl of the winds. Stiles ducked his head tighter.  He would be crushed. And before he could even get out of this putrid fester of a town. Stiles squeezed his eyes shut against the pain being trampled by a horse would surely bring. The dust stung at his eyelids. He was lifted. Sat on the firm curve of a saddle before he heard a “yah!” He was moving. Quickly. He wrapped his arms around the midsection of the stranger. The tallow he was still carrying pressed firmly between their bodies. Stiles was sure the tallow was seeping through his coat in the front and his shirts to his skin. It wasn’t long before the sounds of the dust trickled down to a muffled howl. Stiles didn’t need to wipe his eyes free of the dust to know that they were inside.  Stiles felt the person extract themself from Stiles’ arms before lifting Stiles from the horse and standing him on the ground. Stiles used one hand to wipe the dust from his eyes. Or he would have, if the other person hadn’t smacked Stiles’ hands out of the way. Gently swaying them from his face.  Then, the hands were fitted over his eyes, and with gentle sweeps they brushed the excess grit from Stiles’ face. The fingers left trails of blazing heat across Stiles’ cheeks. When Stiles could open his eyes again, he wished he couldn’t.  His gravel-laden breath caught in his chest.  It was the man from before. Stiles gaped. If god were real, this man would have been his seraph. Floating gently near God's feet, easily the favorite. Or perhaps, this man was Satan, if the look of rage on his face was anything to go on. Cast from the heavens and forced to walk the earth with mere mortals. Somewhere outside of the barn, the howl of the sandstorm lowered itself to nothing but a dull breeze. The storm had ended.  Stiles’ mouth was dry, and getting drier with each millisecond that passed that Stiles failed to rip his eyes from this man.  “Stay out of my way,” the man’s voice was gruff, probably rough from the sand. Stiles jerked back, his mouth clicking closed. Before Stiles could say anything, the man turned on his heel and walked his horse out of the barn.

#sterek cowboy au #my fic #so like I said #I am really into the vibes #but the plot and I are not getting along #by not getting along I mean #the plot is currently strangling me as I plead for mercy #these things happen though #I do always find the harder it is to write #the better the final result #so hopefully this is the best thing i've ever written #for how painful it is #bite of the hell hound

[butchfalin]

the funniest meltdown ive ever had was in college when i got so overstimulated that i could Not speak, including over text. one of my friends was trying to talk me through it but i was solely using emojis because they were easier than trying to come up with words so he started using primarily emojis as well just to make things feel balanced. this was not the Most effective strategy... until. he tried to ask me "you okay?" but the way he chose to do that was by sending "👉🏼👌🏼❓" and i was so shocked by suddenly being asked if i was dtf that i was like WHAT???? WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY TO ME?????????? and thus was verbal again

#yeehaw #1k #5k #10k #posts that got cursed. blasted. im making these tag updates after... 19 hours? #also i have been told it should say speech loss bc nonverbal specifically refers to the permanent state. did not know that! #unfortunately i fear it is so far past containment that even if i edited it now it would do very little. but noted for future reference #edit 2: nvm enough ppl have come to rb it from me directly that i changed the wording a bit. hopefully this makes sense #also. in case anyone is curious. though i doubt anyone who is commenting these things will check the original tags #1) my friend did not do this on purpose in any way. it was not intended to distract me or to hit on me. im a lesbian hes a gay man. cmon now #he felt very bad about it afterwards. i thought it was hilarious but it was very embarrassed and apologetic #2) “why didn't he use 🫵🏼?” didn't exist yet. “why didn't he use 🆗?” dunno! we'd been using a lot of hand emojis. 👌🏼 is an ok sign #like it makes sense. it was just a silly mixup. also No i did not invent 👉🏼👌🏼 as a gesture meaning sex. do you live under a rock #3) nonspeaking episodes are a recurring thing in my life and have been since i was born. this is not a quirky one-time thing #it is a pervasive issue that is very frustrating to both myself and the people i am trying to communicate with. in which trying to speak is #extremely distressing and causes very genuine anguish. this post is not me making light of it it's just a funny thing that happened once #it's no different than if i post about a funny thing that happened in conjunction w a physical disability. it's just me talking abt my life #i don't mind character tags tho. those can be entertaining. i don't know what any of you are talking about #Except the ppl who have said this is pego/ryu or wang/xian. those people i understand and respect #if you use it as a writing prompt that's fine but send it to me. i want to see it #aaaand i think that's it. everyday im tempted to turn off rbs on it. it hasn't even been a week

[sprucewoodmpreg]

[cattnipt]

Fucked up looking dog you got there

#hello I was supposed to read svsss with a friend as a lighthearted peek into danmei #and now my entire life is ruined by these guys #I haven't finished the whole thing and I'm only on vol 3 #so if I got these two wrong my deepest apologies #I don't know what I'm doing #I'm having a lot of fun though :) #this scene was cool even though literally none of how I drew it happened #svsss #scum villain's self saving system #bingqiu #shen qingqiu #luo binghe #catt art

[fearandhatred]

if aziraphale doesn't grab crowley by his gay little scarf in season 3 then what's the point. why does he even wear it. take that shit off if it's not important to the plot

#fearandhatred #neil adding the scarf to crowley's design in s1: this is a surprise tool that will help us later #i might actually be mad if this doesn't happen in one way or another #but also i'm joking crowley don't take it off it's hot #i know other things you can take off though huh who said that #good omens #ineffable husbands #aziracrow #crowley #aziraphale

[laundrybiscuits]

(ETA: now edited and up on AO3)

Look. Eddie knows he can be a little uptight about these things, but. There are rules. If you become a vampire, you don’t need to go full gothic Count Von Dickhead or whatever, but you absolutely cannot just wander around in a puffy vest and light-wash jeans. 

“Why not?” says Steve. He’s leaning back in an armchair, sipping on a bloodbag like it’s a goddamn juicebox. “What, are the vampire police going to arrest me?” 

He pauses. “Wait. There aren’t vampire police, are there?”

“No,” says Eddie. “Probably not. I don’t know. But there are standards which you are refusing to uphold, Steven.”

“Thought you were all about hating conformity, Edward,” Steve says. He’s got an obnoxiously cocky little smirk, the smug undead fucker. 

Eddie grimaces. “Don’t call me that, asswipe. Don’t you feel, like—the call of the night? The siren song of life coursing through fragile human veins? A hunger for destruction that those paltry plastic bags of blood can never truly slake?”

“The bloodbags aren’t so bad,” says Steve, around the straw. “Better than protein shakes.”

“I actually hate you,” Eddie tells him. “Vampirism is wasted on you.”

Steve noisily slurps the last of the blood out of the bottom of the bag. “Come on, you can’t really picture me in some Dracula getup, can you?”

The problem, of course, is that Eddie really, really can. When Robin had read him in on the whole situation, obviously he’d been horrified and concerned—but also, a whole wing of his brain had immediately been cordoned off to work overtime imagining Steve in elaborate Dark Prince regalia, maybe leaning elegantly out of a castle window on the moors, gazing into the foggy dusk. Velvet might’ve been involved.

“...guess not,” says Eddie. It doesn’t sound incredibly convincing to his own ears, but Steve just shrugs and gets up to throw the bloodbag away. 

“There you go, man,” he says, clapping Eddie on the shoulder as he passes. “It’s the 80s. Vampires can be whatever we wanna be.”

———

It gets way too easy to forget about Steve’s condition, until Eddie ends up having to haul him out of a bar in Indy before they get banned for life.  

“Simmer down, buddy,” Eddie says, pulling him into the shadow of the van. “Let’s get those fangs packed away before any of the nice villagers wander by with torches and pitchforks.”

“I’m good,” pants Steve. “It’s all good. Don’t worry about it. It’s fine.”

Eddie lifts an unimpressed eyebrow. “Sure, that’s why your eyes are glowing red and you’re, like, fully vamped out. Which, by the way, looks extremely dumb with the whole clean-cut vibe you decided to rock tonight.”

“Fuck you, I look great,” says Steve, pushing a hand through his hair. He’s not wrong, it’s just not relevant to how he also looks extremely dumb like this, wearing a pristine henley with fangs hanging out in the parking lot for anyone to see.

“So what the hell happened in there, man? I was finally starting to get somewhere with Todd, and…” Eddie trails off in dawning realization.

“Holy shit, am I—I’m like your territory, aren’t I? Your stupid vampire brain got all screwy and decided to loop me in with Robin and the kids as part of your freaky human coven.”

“Uh,” says Steve. He looks unhappy in a shifty kind of way. “Something like that, maybe.”

“Wait, so, are Nancy and Jonathan—are you okay with them because they’re both already in the vamp pack? Is Vickie gonna have to be inaugurated before she and Robin can bone down?” Eddie perks up. “Shit, is there a ceremony? We could totally do a ceremony.” He bets he can get the kids to liberate some velour curtains from the drama club. With a few candles, they could get some serious atmosphere going.

“No, shut up, nobody’s doing a damn ceremony,” Steve groans. “Vickie’s fine.” 

“Okay,” says Eddie. “So…you gonna tell me what all that was about, then? Do I have to start running guys past you first so your vamp instincts don’t wig out? Or…hm, maybe Argyle’d be down to mess around sometime.”

Steve lets out an actual snarl with weird animal echoes, then claps a hand over his mouth.

“Sorry,” he says, muffled. The shadows around them seem darker somehow. 

“So I’m just not allowed to get laid ever again,” says Eddie slowly. “For vampire reasons.”

“Do whatever you want, man.” Steve’s still got his hand pressed tight over his mouth. 

“And it’s…just me?” Eddie peers at the tightness around Steve’s eyes; the way he’s scowling stubbornly at his feet. “Huh. Kind of…possessive, Harrington.”

“It’s—weird,” says Steve miserably, dropping his hand at last. “I know it’s fucking weird.”

“Maybe.” Eddie shrugs, biting down on the grin he can feel tugging at his mouth. “Lucky for you, I’m into that shit.”

“What?” Steve frowns. “You’re…”

“Always wanted a vampire boyfriend,” says Eddie. “Like, are you kidding? I would’ve sold my fucking soul at 15 for something like that.”

“I’m starting to feel a little objectified here,” says Steve, but he’s smiling, and he reaches out to snag Eddie’s belt loop and tug him stumbling closer. “Just in it for the fangs, huh?”

“Well, you’re kind of a shitty vampire, actually.” Eddie drapes his arms over Steve’s shoulders. “So I guess I must just be in it for you.”

Steve hesitates, searching Eddie’s face. Stray red lights are still sparking like embers in Steve’s irises. “Okay, but—you’re in it? Right?”

“Couldn’t get rid of me if you tried, Bunnicula. I’ll send the vampire police after you, just watch me,” says Eddie, and kisses him.

#steddie #vampire steve harrington #I don't know what happened; I just sat down and wrote this even though I have a million other things to do #I was briefly possessed by the spirit of 'what if steve harrington were the least genre-appropriate vampire of all time' #and also my perpetual need to write people with terrible communication skills #I may edit this a bit more when it's not 3am but ftr I am not planning on any continuations

[fagidarity]

maybe they can make it work after all

#.png #qsmp #qsmp purgatory #qsmp slime #charlie slimecicle #qsmp mariana #el mariana #slimeriana #fliporiana #fanart #now why is this genuinely one of my favourite things i’ve ever drawn #i’m so happy with how the lighting turned out :D #it looks almost exactly how it did in my head that like never happens #not perfect but. i’m happy with it #slime still looks silly though. i’m sorry i just had to keep the mask #ALSO did decide to change how i draw the code corruption #bit less obtrusive this way #and i think it looks cooler

[hairmetal666]

He hates Steve Harrington, everything about him. His stupid, upbeat pop music. His tall fucking hair. His annoyingly bright clothes. His bullshit German luxury car.

Eddie hates that Steve's a good guy. Hates that he carried Eddie's broken and dying body out of hell. Hates that the kids love him how they do. Hates that he and Robin Buckley are the kind of best friends who might as well be siblings. Hates the way that Jonathan is back and Nancy is happy, and Steve has no resentment about any of it. Hates that he'll never, for as long as he lives, forget about six kids and a Winnebago.

And he hates, more than anything of all, the way he's always finding himself in Steve's bed. The way he falls apart when Steve is deep inside, the way he begs for more, pleads for Steve to wreck him. The way Steve treats him so good that it makes him sob.

Eddie hates himself for not being able to stop. For wanting Steve so much that sometimes he feels it as a visceral ache in the back of his molars. He hates himself for how little fight his dumb traitor heart puts into not being astronomically down bad in love with the guy immediately.

And none of this is supposed to flow from his brain to his tongue to out of his mouth, but Steve fucks him so good and slow--gives him the most mind-blowing orgasm of his life--that it all just slips out of the safe confines of his mind.

"I fucking hate you," he says. Or pants, more like, he's all flushed and sweaty and covered in come, not yet settled back to himself.

"W-what?" Steve stutters. He's standing at the edge of the bed, damp towel clenched in his fist.

True, full consciousness strikes then and he doesn't know what else to say. Steve's big eyes are wide and sad, and Eddie's brain is screaming at him to fix it, and isn't that just another thing that he hates?

"Steve. Like. Fucking look at yourself, man." He waves his hand up Harrington's perfect body. "You're the most beautiful fucking thing in the universe. And you--you embody like every fucking thing I'm supposed to hate with your money and your athletic ability, and your whole goddamn clean-cut All-American boy next door bullshit. And I--I keep ending up here when everything in me says to run away, that this--you--are too good to be fucking true."

And Steve, he's pinching the bridge of his nose, looking more than anything like he's trying not to burst into tears and this--this cannot be borne.

"I love you so fucking much." His voice cracks and he reaches out to circle his fingers around Steve's wrist, the one holding the towel. "I love you so much and I don't deserve even a second of it. Not a minute. Because you're Steve Harrington, you're--"

Steve presses his hand (he hates the the wide palms and long fingers, how they're perfect, how they hold him and comfort him and wring out pleasure again and again like it's nothing, like Steve's hands were made for making Eddie come) over Eddie's mouth. "Shut-up, Munson," he says.

"I fucking hate you too." There's ease in the way he says it, a lightness in his eyes. "I hate that you don't use conditioner. I hate that your van makes that turkey gobble sound every time you turn a corner, and you refuse to let me look at it. I hate how loud you play your music, how it makes my fucking skin shake. I hate when you forget to take the damn chains off your jeans when you put them in the wash."

Steve climbs into bed, straddling him, towel long forgotten. "You know what else I fucking hate, Eddie?" He leans down, ghosting his lips against the tip of Eddie's nose, skimming his mouth. "I hate that I've never loved anyone like I love you. I hate that I almost fucking lost you. I hate that we can't spend every minute in this goddamn bed, so I can memorize every inch of your skin, every sound you make, every single way I tear you apart, and all of the things that put you back together. I love you, Ed. Every fucking terrible part."

#steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #ficlet #angst #but not really though? #hate sex #but only kind of? #idiots in love #smut #i really don't know what this is #it just kind of happened #i thought of Eddie listing things he hated about Steve and it all poured out #this is very i hate the way i don't hate you not even close not even a little bit not even at all #it wasn't an intentional 10 things homage

[cemeterything]

i keep thinking about digital ghosts. or maybe digital hauntings would be a better term. the final messages shared between you and someone you no longer speak to, for whatever reason. a webpage, or blog post, or inactive profile on a social media forum that you still return to sometimes, no longer even hoping for something to have changed, just to remember, like returning to a grave year after year. video and audio recordings of people who've left your life that you play back over and over until the tape wears out. in the realm of the more fantastical, maybe a hologram that bears their likeness but only a pale, shallow imitation of their complexity, their personality, or an AI or other imperfect replica built on a lifetime of data collected from them that only reinforces their absence but is all you have left to remember (or replace until you forget the difference) them by. all these records that they existed that will inevitably only last as long as the technology that supports them takes to become obsolete, or the data corrupts and begins to break down, or the archives storing it are no longer hosted anywhere. you haven't cheated death, or the grief that comes with losing someone. you've just prolonged it.

#🐉 #lost contact with a beloved friend recently so im channeling that grief into this #but this is also what happens to val in my mech pilot thing #she becomes a holographic propaganda machine (until shes freed) and knows shes just a replica of someone real #who has been given a little more sand in the hourglass because shes still useful and even though #shes already dead her image cant be allowed to die with her yet

[chameleonsallinvermillion]

Normally by this point, dashboard osmosis has given me a rough idea what everybody's latest Thing is. But Dungeon Meshi? I have no idea what is going on with Dungeon Meshi. My best guesses so far are: -

There probably is a literal dungeon that they are in at least some of the time

Food???? Cooking??? Cooking competition?????????

Very possibly lesbians

That one guy who is taller than everyone else

????????????

It's also highly possible that some of the things I'm assuming are Dungeon Meshi related are actually Locked Tomb, because I never figured out what that was about either.

#dungeon meshi #i'm going to end up watching it just to figure out what on earth you're all talking about #for all i know the thing i think is dungeon meshi is actually three unrelated pieces of media #that just happened to start manifesting on my dash at the same time #locked tomb definitely has lesbians though right?

[morganbritton132]

Eddie’s IMDb page lists his acting credits, his voice work, the music video he directed, and the fun fact that he played basketball in high school which is NOT TRUE. You wear your boyfriend’s old tshirt once during an interview in 1998 and people will accuse you of being a basketball loving freak for the rest of your life.

#truly the worst thing that has ever happened to Eddie #though teams did offer him free tickets at the time and Steve was thrilled about it #eddie munson tiktok saga #steve harrington #eddie munson

[thevoidstaredback]

Damian lost. Damian has never lost before. He never loses! Losing means you're weak, and Damian is not weak. He grew up fast and strong and is only ever getting stronger!

But he couldn't kill her.

Damian had been raised to think that love of any kind was a weakness. Grandfather did not love mother because he is not weak. Mother loved father and that made her weak. Damian could not love Danyal because that would make him weak. Grandfather expected great things from him. He could not afford to be weak.

Before they were set to leave Nanda Parbat to live and train with their father, Damian and Danyal had one final lesson with Grandfather. A fight, two versus one, on the edge of the Lazarus Pits.

Danyal did not survive. He did not resurface from the depths of the green water.

Grandfather called him weak. Mother said nothing. Damian was given no time to mourn before he was handed to his father with strict orders not to tell him about Danyal.

For all Grandfather and mother had done to him, Damian could not bring himself to kill either of them. His father had taught him to love, that it was a strength.

Damian loved his mother. He realized this as he stared into her eyes, his katana at her throat, his boot pinning her down. He could not kill her.

"You are foolish, habibi." she scolded, kneeing his back and sending him rolling forwards off of her and to the edge of the Pits. "You have discarded all I taught you."

"I have only added to those lessons," he faced her, "I remember everything you have taught me."

"You lie like your father. Obviously and bluntly."

"I have never lied to you."

"Then you have forgone my lessons!"

"Because you abandoned me!"

"I sent you away to learn. I came back for you. You abandoned me."

"A mother's role to teach her child just as the father's role is to protect." Damian leveled his weapon at her again. "You left me in the care of everyone but yourself, Talia Al Ghoul. You were only ever our mother in title, not name."

Talia lunged forward, meeting Damian's sword with her own. "You know not of what you speak, foolish child!"

"I know plenty!" He pushed back, forcing her back several feet. He followed if only to get away from the edge of the Pits. "No thanks to you."

"I gave you everything, Damian."

"No. You took everything from me. You held it all as a reward out of my reach."

"You wouldn't be where you are today if it wasn't for me and your Grandfather." she stated as though it were an undeniable truth, "Whether you acknowledge it or not, we raised you."

"I raised myself."

"We taught you everything you know."

"I taught myself!"

"We made you perfect!"

"You killed half of me!"

The silence overwhelmed the fighting in the tunnels, the shouting and running and bubbling of the Pits were all drowned out. Talia's sword lowered shakily. Damian's remained raised and steady.

"You allowed Grandfather to take Danyal from me. You forced me to forget him. You killed half of me."

"Habibi-"

"No!" He was shaking now. "He was my better half, just as I was his. And you took him from me."

"Damian-"

"You took my brother from me!" He charged madly at her, rage and grief overtaking him. "I will never forgive you for that!"

Talia matched him blow for blow. "Love is weakness, habibi. That is why he died. Danyal loved you and he paid his price for it."

With a scream, Damian doubled his efforts. His blows grew weak with rage as his mother pushed him back.

Damian knew he could not kill her. Some part of him still yearned for her approval. Some part of him still loved her.

Talia's sword impaled itself into the area below his sternum, piercing the armor and skin and muscle, stabbing through to the other side, the hilt stopping it from moving ant further.

Suddenly, the silence flooded over the cavern again. A shrill ringing filled Damian's ears as his grip weakened. His katana fell from his grasp, clattering to the floor so loudly, but so, so quietly. Blood spilled from Damian's mouth with a cough.

Talia drew her sword back, throwing it behind herself as she caught her son. Love is a weakness, but that had not stopped her before. Why hadn't it stopped her now?

"Damian? Habibi?" She cradled his body on her lap, her hand turning his face to her. "My darling?"

Damian's eyes were vacant, staring into a distance unseen. He heard nothing, felt nothing. He knows what was coming next. Sleep. Release. Soon, he'd be in his brother's arms again, just like when they were children. They'd have so long to catch up with each other.

Damian closed his eyes with a soft sigh.

Storyboard Part 2

#damian doesn't survive #i pulled this out of my ass #i need to sleep #but i had to get this out of my head #all of my knowledge is from fanfics and other fanon #dp x dc #dcxdp #damian wayne #talia al ghul #part 1/2 #only because theres a lot that needs to happen but this is a good place to end #this won't be a huge thing though #sorry not sorry

[sunflona]

respite

#critical role fanart #critical role #fearne calloway #dorian storm #orym of the air ashari #illustration #digital painting #art #exu trio #my art #sorry for drawing the same characters over and over it will happen again ❤ #maybe not though fjdfjd I want to work on some original things soon

[omaano]

If you're still taking those polyam sketch prompts...D2 for Cody/Obi-Wan/Rex?

Obi-Wan deserves a pair of handsome space heaters for the cold Tatooine nights :3 nap piles for everyone! Thanks for asking (and for adjusting the requested pose so that I can keep drawing different poses)❤️

Polyamorous/platonic poses for sketching

#can I just point out that this is the same size as all the other sketches for these poses? #I was forced to face the limit of how far my lining brush could be scaled down lol #wanderingjedihistorian #answers #my art #poly sketches #partial nudity #codexwan #that’s the ship name right? #or at least I assume that was the intent behind the ask? #clone shipping #if you squint at the ask at least #cuddle piles for everyone! #also what’s the point of being the same-ish size if you cannot steal each other’s clothes to sleep in? #these were wayyy too many limbs I needed to navigate #but my favourite thing will forever be to add freckles and beauty marks and body hair drawing out stubble one line at a time is good for me #I’m still working on these so #some style adjustments will need to happen though I’m afraid… or I forgot again how sketching works which would be very tragic

[originalartblog]

does this count as angst or

companion piece for this Storm Bringer AU here

#things this piece made me think about: dazai's growth spurts and when they happen. i decided he's a late bloomer. #only just started growing even though he's well into being 16 years old because harukawa drew him as a baby still #and also him changing pronouns in the day i picked up dazai (which happens a couple of months later) #bsd #bungo stray dogs #bungou stray dogs #bsd fanart #sb reset au #bsd adam frankenstein #bsd adam #bsd chuuya #bsd nakahara chuuya #bsd dazai #bsd dazai osamu #nawy's art #bsd stormbringer #bsd storm bringer #stormbringer #storm bringer

[royalarchivist]

Luzu: Yeah, you know, I told people that I would happily make some dictionaries so that you guys have expressions to use, like you can have a book in your inventory that you open to have like basic Spanish stuff, I'm gonna mess his one, like his -

Phil: Oh yes, please.

Luzu: - book up, and I'm gonna make all like, have no meaning.

Phil: Please give him like, a - a silly book, a - give him a silly one.

Luzu: Yeah. How do I pronounce his name, Wilbur, or Wilb? Or Wil?

Phil: You got it right the first time! Yup, it's Wilbur.

Luzu: Oh yeah? Alright.

Phil: Yup yup! Or just Wil. Either - either works.

Luzu: I wanna have to find a way to, yeah, have a cold revenge. Like, he - he may be laughing today, and, "heehee, haha!" we did like this small joke, and in 20 days I'm gonna destroy everything that he loves in this server.

#Luzu #Philza #QSMP #Wilbur #Wilbur Soot #Phil #Everyone: Omg Luzu and Wilbur are gonna get along so well! #Me: Nah Wilbur's gonna assume Luzu's a nice harmless guy and he won't realize Luzu's actuall a Chaotic Bastard #Everyone: No that wont happen! #Today: *this happens* #Me: *stares directly at the camera* #There's a reason Luzu and Quackity are such good friends they're both the same flavor of kind but chaotic bastards #though Quackity is an UNHINGED chaotic bastard #Luzu and Phil's conversation was the best thing that happened today IMO #<-- is incredibly biased #FOR REAL THOUGH IF YOU DONT KNOW LUZU ALREADY YOU'LL LOVE HIM YOU'LL LOVE HIM SO MUCH #His lore is frickin INCREDIBLE and he's also just a sweet dude #and a bastard but a fun one #anyways for context: Wilbur told Luzu to teach his friends a ''silly British saying'' that was basically gloop gloop or whatever #(OK LAST CLIP FOR REAL more tomorrow)