#foolish fanfiction | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

itsonlydana · 2 years

Note

ok , now mcyts drunk confessing to you, dsmp characters edition

DSMP CHARACTERS CONFESSING DRUNK

pairing: c!Foolish x gn!reader / c!Wilbur x gn!reader /c!Eret x gn!reader / c!Schlatt x gn!reader

words: 6k

warnings: alcohol & being drunk, hurt/comfort, fluff

an: this took a while for me to write, whenever i started it i got distracted. You guys don't know how often i was this close to confessing everything to some of my crushes lmao. Don't do that, just because it's maybe romantic here :,)

important links: rules + masterlist

🌿 reposts and comments are appreciated, they motivate me a lot and keep me writing <3

FOOLISH:

Foolish and you had met through Quackity in Las Nevadas, an initially awkward first encounter in which you were both late for different reasons and ran into each other entering the hotel

as you quickly found out you both had an affinity for building, a love for architectural masterpieces and a tendency to make every building project a friendly (completely serious, depending on the result and victory your whole personality for the following week) but definitely only friendly competition

besides the competitions, raving about building styles and materials you often entertained yourselves by swimming in the sea, because you both wanted to avoid contact with hotel visitors during a trip to the pool and thus often found yourselves on the beach after a long day/night at work

Foolish's way of showing his affection were not only expensive gifts in the form of a new, faster pickaxe or a chest filled with marble blocks and other materials, all a pain in the butt to get, but also touches

when you first met he was reluctant to do this, unsure of how to place you as a new person in the social construct of Las Nevadas, but as you spent more time together these touches became more frequent

him putting his arm around your shoulders as you sat on the beach watching the sunrise/sunset after swimming, resting his head on yours when you were bent over blueprints, holding your hand as you climbed the scaffolding. Often you feel his hand light as a feather in your back when he's guiding you somewhere or you're walking through a door together (he always lets you lead the way) and it becomes especially frequent when he's completely overtired and overworked

most of the time he drops down on top of you, of course not wanting to bury you completely under his muscles, but then as soon as he is lying on top of you, one arm wrapped around you and his nose buried in the crook of your neck, he falls right asleep.

Sometimes he reaches for your hands for no real reason and he never explains himself either. He intertwines your hands and gets on with whatever he's working on at the time

The ice clinked against the rim of your glass as you twirled the crystal straw around in the cocktail. It wasn't on the menu yet, "a secret just for you," as Foolish had explained to you with a wink after you'd dropped tiredly onto one of the now-empty barstools in Las Nevada's club with a desire for something strong. Foolish, whose wink had glistened just like the deep red drink in front of you, stood behind the bar, a glass of his own in his hand, leaning wearily against the countertop. He had his eyes closed, exhaustion after a long night of filling the thirsty mouths of countless tourists and probably turning down hundreds of chat up lines on his face.

He looked good enough to eat, though, you thought to yourself, and let your eyes slide over his relaxed figure, shamelessly and bold now that he rested his. The tight black pants flattered his well-toned legs, especially thighs very much and also the vest, which he had taken off after the last customer and thrown over the bar, had stretched over his chest. The self-confident Foolish, easily showing off his good looks and fishing for tips, was through the door, in front of you was a picture that only you got to see.

His white shirt which he wore under his vest had slipped at the hem in some places out of its tidily smooth form tucked into his trousers and hung over the shiny gold belt loop, he had rolled up his sleeves carelessly, well as far as the fabric would allow with his strong upper arms, and two of the many small buttons were unbuttoned so that you could see the calming rise and fall of his chest. His long hair, otherwise tied in a braid, was now messily twisted behind his head, presenting his tense jaw and sharp cheekbones in the dim light of the bar.

You tilted your head, propped on your left hand, and took another sip of the cocktail. You knew the warm feeling in your stomach wasn't just from the alcohol, you felt it too often for that when you were sober.

The jukebox in the corner crackled softly as the record was changed and a new one was automatically put on, this time a much slower one. The first notes echoed through the empty bar, filling the comfortable silence between you and Foolish with a tune familiar to both of you, at which Foolish opened his eyes.

Your gaze was still on him when his met his, and for a moment you just looked at each other before Foolish's voice quietly drowned out the melody and the loud thumping in your chest:

"Would you like to dance?"

Normally you would have teased him for such a question or made a joke about your lack of dancing skills, but something was different today. You couldn't put your finger on what it was. Maybe it was the warmth in the rosy red sunrise that bathed Las Nevadas pink and fell through the glass doors into the bar. Maybe it was that something in Foolish's gaze as he walked around the bar and you accepted his outstretched hand with a smile. Or maybe it was the weariness of a long night, doused with many drinks, the taste of which made your lips taste sweet and your stomach do cartwheels.

Foolish led you to the center of the room, into the warm cone of one of the last remaining switched-on spotlights that bathed you both in its golden light. Any eye ogling was forgotten as soon as Foolish put his hands at your sides. Never looking away from his loving gaze you raised your hands and placed them in his neck, at the touch of your hands cooled by the glass and ice you felt the goosebumps on his skin under your fingertips, but your tongue was numb and another teasing comment remained unspoken.

It wasn't really dancing, just a slow swaying back and forth so lost in each other's gaze that you didn't even hear the record stop and none follow.

As your fingers unconsciously began to trace indefinable patterns, circles and gentle movements on the back of Foolish's neck he exhaled a quivering breath that shook his chest. You felt from his tight grip, not tight enough to hurt you, how hard he was straining to stand up straight, his head probably heavy with fatigue, alcohol, and the many thoughts that had just made themselves known at the bar in a furrowed brow and contracted eyebrows.

You repeated the movement in his neck, wandering your fingers higher to the base of his hair where it was slightly twisted for his braid. Without giving it much further thought, you released the clasp that had pinned the black hair far too tightly. As you began to carefully comb through the thick and velvety hair, his arms pulled you closer to him until no sheet of paper would have fit between you.

Foolish's head tipped forward slightly as he let himself fall completely against you. With a tired sigh and a yawn, he leaned his head against yours before sinking forward even further and resting his forehead on your shoulder. His breath hit the free skin on your neck hotly. You felt the words even before they reached your ears, the movement of his lips against your neck almost more distinct than the actual words.

"I love you."

A tremor ran through your body as his arms slipped from your sides and wrapped completely around you, pressing your clearly smaller body against his broad chest as he clarified the meaning of that great confession with every touch.

And you loved him too with all your heart and every thought, but you would tell him that tomorrow. Now you were showing him by holding him.

ERET:

even before Eret was officially crowned king of the SMP by Dream, you had made it your mission to always be at his side

not only because of his good looks, but also because you had often enough talked about a shared vision of freedom, your hearts far away in the distance while lying in front of black and yellow walls and imagining what it would be like to be somewhere else

one night he had taken your hand, pulled you with him on the caravan and pointed to a spot in the darkness, between tall fir trees swaying in the night wind and promised you to run there as soon as the walls were gone

that night you probably felt it for the first time, the leap in your heart and the tingling in your stomach, but these feelings had no place in the revolution and you repressed them - later

life went on, time took what it wanted and fate played with events as if they were a part of a play and not reality, where every action had serious consequences. Eret won something, Eret lost something and you stayed by his side no matter what happened and the tug in your heart became sometimes stronger, sometimes less - later

he declared you his most loyal knight on a lukewarm summer night, a grin on your faces as he struck Ted's wrath on your shoulders and gave you a sword in netherite, which you never took off since then

you were inseparable, finding comfort in each other's presence even when his touches set your skin on fire and the reality of your platonic relationship dipped your head in icy water

sometimes the lines between friendship and work blurred, ending up in unattractive expressions shouted in the heat of the argument, which you regretted afterwards in the lonely silence

to always remind you of your position, not as desired as a lover, but as the most faithful friend and protector, you always carry a photograph, clamped in the breastplate of your armor, on which you kneel before Eret, one hand placed on your heart, the other on his black shoe tips, and on which he, in his voluminous red coat and golden crown, places Ted wrath on your right shoulder

To say you were running through the castle would be an understatement, you were sprinting, your feet barely seemed to touch the ground and only one question was burning in your mind:

"What if I'm not fast enough?"

When one of the maids had stormily knocked, no hammered, on your bedroom door in the early morning, you had immediately been on your feet, the book in which you had lost yourself had been left open on your bed, neatly made for the sleep you didnt get in the night.

That's all she had to say, that's all you needed to hear. You flew like a whirlwind around the last corner where several servants stood with nervous looks in front of the high, closed doors to the throne room and you snapped at them with a slightly sharper, "Don't you have work to do?" that quietly dispersed the crowd chattering. Now alone in front of the door, you raised a hand to the doorknob and slowly pushed it down.

"The king," she had stammered when you had invited her in.

"What about Eret?" you had asked, your heart loud and hammering in your chest

"He is drunk and has thrown everyone out of the throne room. We fear a little for him, he had seemed upset after the ball"

"I have told you to leave," Eret's deep, slightly slurred voice rang out as soon as you opened the door. He didn't sound as angry and threatening as he might have hoped, though; the words trembled, pronounced much more through grief than anger.

You pushed through a narrow crack in the door and shut it quickly behind you, not wanting any of the servants to catch even the slightest glimpse of the almost pathetic sight of their king, for that would make for rumors spreading like wildfire beyond your control to suppress.

Immediately, your concern reached its peak, and you rushed across the room to drop onto the steps in front of him. His red dress flowed like water down his slender form, the same color as that in his cheeks stained by tears and most likely alcohol. On the floor lay an empty bottle of wine, also red.

But it was truly pathetic.

The walls were still adorned with the decorations of the previous night's ball, scarlet curtains and banners, red rose vines scrambling up the walls, milky cloths through which you had danced only a few hours ago hung ghostly in the room, which looked like an abandoned painting without the mask-clad people and the violin music, and in the middle of it all Eret. He was stretched out on the steps in front of his throne, his crown and his blood-red mask lying on the seat, to which he had turned his back. He had his eyes squeezed shut, and though he rested his head on one arm and hid his face slightly in the crook, you saw the telltale wet glisten on his cheeks.

"What's wrong, Eret?" you tried to bring him out of the thoughts he had probably plunged into, as he so often did. He disappeared into this world where he was getting caught up in things and worrying about events that were completely different. It was a place you couldn't follow him to, no matter your promise to be with him always and everywhere. To you, it felt like a breaking of that very promise, a betrayal and simultaneous heartbreak that you couldn't be where he probably needed you most, that you could never be there.

Eret's response to your question was absent except for an aborted sob. You slid closer on the step, placing an arm gently on his shoulder. "Eret? Come on, it's me, you can talk to me, can't you?"

"That's the problem" Ouch... "You're part of my problem" Double ouch "I don't think this problem would exist without you" You were sure your heart couldn't break into smaller splinters and yet Eret proved you wrong in this hope. He opened his eyes, stared at you through his pearly white pupils and stood up with a jerk. The dress rustled with the frantic movement, falling down on him no longer smooth and noble, but crumpled and moistened with alcohol and tears as he staggered trying to find his footing. You had jumped up with him, puzzled and hurt at the sudden cold shoulder, when just hours ago you had been dancing together.

"Eret-," you took a step toward him, he stumbled back two. "Eret cut the bullshit and tell me what's going on now!" you commanded in a shaky voice, you didn't know how to deal with all the emotions that were bubbling up inside you and threatening to sweep you off your feet just thinking about how he had flinched away from you and the warmth in his gaze had been replaced by a cold, impenetrable wall, but something was very wrong with Eret. It had been your promise, your oath to be faithful, where you had given yourself to him completely, with all your heart, and you couldn't ignore that because of your own weakness for him. He needed you, even if his words went through your feelings like sharp knives.

Eret fell backward against his throne and raised a hand waveringly, pointing at the doors with a stone-hard facade. "Go, leave me alone, that's what you're going to do anyway".

"I beg your pardon, what?" You thought you were the one who had been drinking, because what he said definitely made no sense. Confused, you looked at him. "Where did you come up with such nonsense? Why and where would I go, please?"

He laughed out, but not in the deep and full laugh full of joy, he was exasperated. "I know you danced with Sapnap, i saw you two dancing more than you danced with me! You danced with Sapnap and couldn't stop listening to all the great things he said about Kinoko. At least admit you'd rather live there and don't lie to me." Eret took a shaky breath.

You exhaled shakily. Tears threatened to burst from your eyes as you saw the fear in Eret. "I won't leave you," you whispered, because if you spoke louder, you wouldn't be able to hold back the tears and you would both cry, and then you wouldn't be able to help him. Again you took a step toward him, up the steps, until all you had to do was reach out your hand to bridge the remaining distance between you.

Eret looked up, his cheeks wet with fresh tears, and he sobbed out. "I love you, please don't leave me. I don't want to be alone"

The pile of broken pieces reassembled into your heart at the confession you had dreamed of for so long, only to be destroyed again when Eret helplessly reached for your hand, as if you would want to flee from him now that he had laid his feelings openly down to you. But you wouldn't, there was no reality in which you would ever leave Eret, could leave him.

"I love you too," you answered him honestly "I love you and I'm not going anywhere, do you understand that? Nowhere where you are not too. You'll never get rid of me Eret, never again".

It wouldn't be easy to convince him of this confession later, you would have to sit down quietly and talk about all the changes ahead of you, but when Eret pulled you into a desperate kiss that tasted like fruity wine and salty tears, everything was okay, at least for the moment.

WILBUR:

Wilbur was a man of many things, he mastered the power to give uncertain and lost people the feeling of togetherness and family, he could draw the best out of the most hopeless situations and awaken in everyone the desire to want to fight for something

Wilbur was also a man for whom and his words you fell without wanting to ever to be caught, completely and with all your heart

he had picked you up, like everyone else in L'Manburg he had taken you in and given you a purpose

you had supported Wilbur in the election, were hard at work writing notes at every debate, and spent long nights with Will thinking about next steps

after Schlatt banished Wilbur and Tommy from Manburg, you followed them to Pogtopia, packed all your things in a bag and stepped out of your house without once looking back

Wilbur was your constant, your rock without whom you would sink hopelessly in the merciless world, and you became his muse, the cause for which he wanted to fight. Not that you told the other, you showed it in the things you did for each other

there were days when he showered you with affection, told you at every opportunity how proud he was of you and how glad he was to have met you. On those days he reached for your hands, hugged you or blew a kiss on your cheek, after which you always touched the place where just a moment ago his lips had been feather-light, in disbelief.

you never defined what exactly you were, lovers, friends, soul mates, two hearts found in the darkness, giving each other comfort and light for an uncertain period of time, a temporary relationship.

there were nights when Will needed your company, holding you close, and when you were his anchor, his salvation from drowning in fears of the future and the great something that was approaching and lurking in every shadow of the cave that had become your home.

there were moments when you were the only one who could pull Will away from the abyss, moments when he wanted to give up everything or, on the complete contrary, was about to rush out and take the problem out of the world

your "relationship" was a flame, a flaming heat that engulfed everything and to which you surrendered as an escape from reality and a dream of a future for which you both fought

Every evening there is this one moment between sunset and night. A brief moment when the sun has already disappeared behind the horizon, the last pink and purple clouds drift across the sky, and the all-consuming darkness approaches.

A moment when there is no time, just Wilbur and you.

It was quiet in Pogtopia, Techno and Tommy had retired to their beds, with the flicker of a lantern still lighting the cave walls from the corner of Techno's small area, casting your and Will's shadows against the gray stones.

The shadows fascinated Will, and for several minutes he had been raising your interlocked hands and twisting them in all directions, spreading his fingers and laughing in excitement when he recognized an animal in the shadows. He was drunk, the empty bottle of wiskey lying beside him on the crossbar, and his breath with each laugh smelled of firewood, pines, and cigarettes. He was drunk, again, and had been pacing back and forth madly in an office knocked into one of the walls, tussling his hair over mysterious plans. Plans he didn't even share with you. He was drunk, and yet you had followed him up your beam, a sturdy piece of wood that reached across the ravine. It was placed directly under the only gap to the outside, you couldn't see much as bushes and foliage obstructed your view of the sky, but the last golden rays of the setting sun still made their way through the dark greenery and gently brushed your face.

You turned your head to look at Will. His eyes were still focused on the shadows, pupils large and lips slightly parted he looked at the wall until he felt your gaze and turned as well. His brown stubborn hair hung in his face and as you reached out a hand to brush it away, you felt the dust and grit in what used to be hazel brown hair. They had turned gray, lacking the shine and shimmer, just as the spark in Will's eyes was missing.

No, it wasn't missing, it was different.

Once it had been revolution, a stirring power had been in his eyes, sweeping you off your feet like a tidal wave and at the same time holding you carefully when you lost your footing. Today you saw little of that, of the slightly youthful recklessness, the fun, the will to make something happen even when it seems almost impossible. Now there was rage in his gaze, rage that would strike mercilessly over you and everyone in its path, drowning you beneath its waves if you couldn't swim.

"You look sad," Will said after a while.

You shrugged your shoulders. "Do I?"

He nodded, his dark eyes roaming over your face and lingering on your pressed-together lips. "You often look sad," his gaze continued to linger on your lips and he ran his tongue over his own "Is there anything I can do to make you happier?" he asked. He was already turning his upper body closer to you, the beam creaking under the slight movement.

Again you shrugged your shoulders. You ran your fingers over the back of his hand, over his bandaged knuckles and rough skin. "You could tell me what you and Tubbo are plotting for the festival".

The words echoed off the walls of Pogtopia, smothering any sound, and though they were inescapable between you, Will didn't answer, but put his lips to yours. You kissed him back, with the desperation of someone drowning, clinging to anything remaining familiar, because in all the chaos of Pogtopia, the change in the man who leaned over you and put his hand behind your head, the feel of Will's lips was still the same. He kissed you so he wouldn't have to answer, and yet every movement of his lips spoke for what was unsaid.

"I love you," Will murmured into the kisses, the words as raw as his lips and tasting more bitter than the alcohol on his tongue.

"I love you," he repeated those three words and you sensed he meant them, sensed the emotion in his drunken kisses. It's the truth.

"I love you," he said louder as he pressed his forehead against yours and your interlocked hands lay between your bodies.

For a moment, time stands still. The last rays of the sun move across the gap in the cave, illuminating your sanctuary in pink and gold, and you see a spark in Will's gaze, befuddled by whiskey and a dream of a future close enough to touch.

"I love you," Will whispers, and you see tears glisten in his eyes. It sounds like a promise.

The moment passes, darkness takes over the sky and the flicker of Techno's lamp goes out, taking the shadows with it and the last bit of light. Night falls, crushing and harsh and lonely.

The moment becomes the past, and though the sun will rise again tomorrow and set again tomorrow, you know it will never be the same.

"I love you," Will speaks into the silence. An apology for what will come with the sunrise.

You swallow hard, trying to remember the feel of his lips on yours, chasing their trail, and it grows heavier, receding further and further into the distance, like a dream that had slipped from your fingers. "I love you too"

SCHLATT:

the first time you met Schlatt, he had watched one of Will's speeches from a distance, a power in a black suit and a stern expression on his face that had twisted into a grin at your dry "What a load of bullshit"

you didn't make it easy for him, you stayed out of his way when he clearly tried to approach you during walks through Manburg and Schlatt loved a challenge

he invested a lot of time getting to know you, inviting you on dates that sometimes you didn't show up for because you didn't feel like it and other times you knocked on his office door at night, deprived of sleep and bored. You knew he was staying longer in the White House than anyone else, so you enjoyed the time alone, playing a game of chess or poker

you finally let him into your heart, accompanied him to political events, dragged him to museums or on long walks through nature, on which you - far away from the eyes of the world and hungry paparazzi - let yourselves fall into the high grass and just watch the rustling of the leaves above you, your hands intertwined

it was on one of these walks that Schlatt kissed you for the first time. You were lying side by side in the grass, Schlatt propped up on his arm and stroking your cheek with one hand before he leaned down and breathed a soft kiss on your lips. You had put a hand on the back of his neck and pulled him down to you, deepening the kiss

After the kiss everything was different, changed for the better. Schlatt took your hand in public whenever he felt like it, ran away with you from journalists and you spent many nights in his office cuddled up on the couch

he gave you many expensive gifts, jewelry, clothes, armor, swords, everything you looked at or thought about was at your home a few days later, wrapped in white paper with a red bow around it

despite this intimate relationship, you did not know exactly what your status was, or what Schlatt hoped to gain from it. He was an important man who gave daily speeches to the press or the citizens, spoke of Manburg's plans for the future and made promises, but he had never once said a single word about his feelings, about your plans for the future

it was what you had been afraid of when you fell in love with him and let him get close, you hoped it would not be your downfall

Laughing, you slapped Schlatt against his chest with your free hand as he once again took your words and twisted them. "Of course not," you replied, and Schlatt's feigned horror turned into a self-satisfied grin, "I doubted your execution skills," you added cheekily, which resulted in a pecking index finger to your side, which made you squeak away and press closer to Schlatt. The man pressed a kiss into your hair before his previously attacking hand intertwined with yours again. "No, it's really quite fabulous," you handed him an olive branch of peace to avoid being pulled into yet another tickle attack and let your gaze wander over the colorful Manburg Festival.

"I must say, you've outdone yourself"

"Oh, so you doubted me and my fantastic planning skills?"

The meadow in front of the big podium had been transformed into every fair lover's dream overnight. Colorful booths had sprung up like flowers, offering everything from sweets to savory treats, souvenirs and games, decorated with colorful flags fluttering in the light breeze and self-painted signs. You recognized many of the games, duck fishing, can throwing, dunk the man and even some unfamiliar ones were there that almost piqued your interest even more.

Schlatt watched your wide eyes shining with anticipation for a while, giving you time to take it all in while his gaze was on you, warm and full of emotions that would answer some questions if you would just turn your head slightly and look at him.

But that's exactly what you didn't do, you consistently looked at everything but him for the simple reason that you were afraid to tell him the truth about your feelings to his face. Instead, you pulled him in the direction of a booth, Schlatt smiling behind you.

As it turned out, Schlatt wasn't the best at sack races, not even close. While he tried to somehow hold on to the edge of the sack he was up to his hips in, one kid after another jumped past him across the fenced-in meadow. Again and again he looked desperately at you, but you continued to motivate him with loud clapping, which many of the other bystanders joined in when they realized that it was the president who was stumbling across the meadow. Your heart leapt more than Schlatt, the sight of him in the midst of this happy scene spurred fantasies in your head to a future filled with such events and family-friendly games.

The rest of the day was similar... warm, just with a few more drinks and shots that Schlatt wanted to drink everything nicer with, because "if I hear one more kid screaming I'm going to blow this all off," but despite his slightly grumpy demeanor when there were a bunch of toddlers screaming on the mini Ferris wheel behind you, you saw his smile at other moments. It was once again his "I think it's stupid that I enjoy this" reaction to experiences in which he would rather slip into his Mr. Politician role because it was easier, instead of opening up to something new. At the very beginning of what was between you, whatever it was, you had often noticed it, the mask behind which Schlatt hid his insecurity, but slowly it disappeared and you kept getting to know new sides of him. For example, the lack of talent for sack race

You moved from one stand to the next, hand in hand, arm in arm. Time flew by and as you headed for one of the last remaining tents, the sun had long since disappeared behind the horizon and only a few pink clouds drifted across the darkened night sky. Your cheeks were warm from all the laughing and shots you'd had with Schlatt throughout the day, and you felt like you were floating up there with the clouds. Your lips were sticky from the cotton candy the two of you had just shared behind one of the tents, you snuggled into his side while he complained about how sweet the cotton candy tasted and could hardly get enough of your sweet lips afterwards.

At your laughter, he turned, his cheeks pink and golden and his gaze admonishing and playful and full of warmth. He reached for the next ball, which just barely brushed the top can of the largest pyramid, and it fell backwards onto the floor of the tent with a lonely "klank." At Schlatt's exasperated expression, you suppressed another laugh, but ended up snorting, deceived as a cough, which earned you another "Hey!" from Schlatt.

You leaned your hip against the booth's wooden counter, your gaze much more focused on Schlatt than on the pyramids of cans and bottles set up as targets in the tent. As much as you wanted to focus on how he was living up to his promise of knocking over all the cans in one throw -well, doing his best- your heart was running in completely different directions.

The many strings of lights dangling and spun across the square bathed Schlatt in a warm, golden light, and he never looked better. His curls were tousled, a crown of daisies lay between his horns and in the brown hair, and Schlatt had never once made an effort to remove them, not even when you had encountered Quackity. He leaned slightly over the counter, one ball in his hand and the other he used to imagine a wobbly throwing line, which in planning might have worked somehow, in implementation, however, the ball landed neither in the cans, nor in the bottles but fell from his hand backwards into the grass.

"Feel free to buy more throws if you want to win one of the bigger stuffed animals," the young man behind the counter interjected, a money-making charming grin on his lips.

Schlatt grumbled as he took the last of his three balls from the basket and examined it.

You took a step closer to him, gently placing a hand on his upper arm. "You don't have anything to prove, you know that, right?" you spoke softly that the vendor couldn't hear any of it over the din of the still-full festival. "The evening was great enough, I don't expect a cuddly toy, really".

"Bullshit," Schlatt clicked his tongue and stood up straight. You could see the alcohol on him, but also the pure determination now more than ever to win you something. He turned slightly so he could better aim his throwing arm at the cans, then turned to you with a big grin. "I love you, and I'm going to get you that stuffed animal, cost it all the world! Hell, I'll buy out the booth otherwise!"

The muffled tinkling and clattering of falling cans following these world stopping words only reached you dully, in your ears echoed "I love you! he loves me. i love you! he loves me. i love you! he loves me." In one beat with the beating of your heart. You didn't know how you could take the next breath when Schlatt had just completely turned the world upside down. Nothing you could say or do seemed even remotely important enough to equal what Schlatt had just thrown at you.

It wasn't until Schlatt spoke your name several times, each time with a little more concern in his voice, that your eyes found his. Everything was still stopped around you, you heard nothing but your own blood in your ears.

"You love me?" you asked quietly in disbelief, unsure if it had really happened or was a game of your drunken brain.

Schlatt paused in his movement, looking at you with wide eyes and his arms wrapped around a big teddy bear.

"Haven't I told you yet? Don't tell me I've never told you I love you".

Silently you shook your head, but slowly the words got through to you and a smile played around your lips. "I love you," you grinned now, wide and with butterflies fluttering wildly in your stomach, "I love you too."

477 notes · View notes

god1ngs · 2 years

Text

i shouldn't forgive you (but it's you)

foolish left you in the ruins of your home years ago. you've forgotten about it up until now, finally face to face with him.

&. c!foolish x gn!reader

word count: 4.1k words

warnings: swearing & arson

bones' note: wrote this in three hours, thought you guys might enjoy :) also my first time writng a full length fic for foolish! i hope i got the characterization right haha

Being in love is dangerous.

You’ve known this since you were a kid. Ever since your first crush, your first love, and your first heartbreak— You knew falling in love meant being forced to deal with the repercussions if something were to go wrong. Therefore, it was easier to guard your heart. You wouldn’t need to worry about the consequences of love if you never found it. You were content with it; not having someone there made your independence grow.

But your loneliness was suffocating.

You tried to convince yourself it wasn’t bothering you. You were fine being alone— You’ve come this far without anyone. Why would you need someone— but you also missed having company. With every day passing day, you felt more and more alone, until you couldn’t convince yourself you were fine being alone.

You wanted someone there. You wanted that feeling of freedom that comes with love. But you were afraid of the negatives. You were too scared to seek anyone out, too afraid of falling in love and it ending in tragedy (everything ends in tragedy, is what you tell yourself). Yet, you long for it. You dream for it. But you’ll never seek it out because of your fear.

So, you continued living your quaint life. You hunted; you fished; you gathered various berries and plants; you hoped for someone to love you; you cooked and cleaned and reorganized your house. It was a fairly small house, one of the smaller houses in your village, so you could redecorate it without moving too many items around. It was small, quaint, and you liked it that way. You were never one for the grand things anyways.

Your schedule was the same every day, one you rinsed and repeated as soon as the sun rose and as soon as it set. Then, a stranger came by your house.

He looked different than everyone in the village. He had to be a newcomer. He had golden skin that might as well have been made out of gold with the way it shined in the sun; emerald green eyes that lit up brilliantly; a robe he wore that fit him well, but also showed off the muscle underneath. You opened the door to his bright grin, arching an eyebrow.

“Hello?”

“Hello!” He responded cheerfully. “I’m new here and, well, you looked pretty welcoming! Was wondering if you could give me the grand ol’ tour of the place?” You had no idea how he could act so cheerful so early, but it made you smile slightly. As for showing him around— you had nothing better to do, so why not?

“Sure. What’s your name?” You asked, watching him beam at the confirmation.

“Foolish! And what may your name be?” Oddly, the name suited him.

“[Name]. It’s very nice to meet you, Foolish.”

“You too! Now, how ‘bout we get to that tour, hm?” He grinned.

You giggled, stepping outside and shutting your door. “Alright. Let’s go, Foolish.”

With that, you gave Foolish a tour of your village. There wasn’t much to show, considering how small the village was and how little people occupied it. There were really only the major buildings you had to show off: The Clinic, Town Hall, and the Blacksmith. Town Hall was where everyone gathered if need be. Although, it hasn’t been used in ages. It was collecting dust more than serving as a meeting place. The Blacksmith was where all the weapons were forged handcrafted by the only man you’ve ever seen handle weapons in the town. You found it weird how he was interested in the Blacksmith of all places but didn’t think too much of it.

However, Foolish’s bright energy made up for the lack of places to show him. He was still curious with everything you showed him, with a smile that hadn’t dimmed the entire time. You don’t think you’ve ever met a happier man in your life. Even you hadn’t smiled the entire time. His happiness was infectious though, occasionally making you grin every time you even looked at him. Maybe he was a wizard.

“And that.” You clapped your hands, turning to Foolish. “Concludes the tour! Hope you enjoyed everything and have a good time living here.” Foolish only seemed to brighten more, thanking you for the tour and going off somewhere. Maybe to build a house or renovate one of the abandoned ones.

A month after Foolish moved in, you had only gotten to know the man more. His cheerfulness wasn’t a onetime thing, instead he was simply happy all the time. You couldn’t wrap your head around how or why, but it was beginning to rub off on you. You’ve laughed harder in a few days with Foolish than you have in the recent months. His bright, happy attitude simply was infectious.

And maybe he was too.

You found yourself wanting to see him every day. He was in your head form the moment you woke up to the second you fell asleep. It was strange to think that, just after a few months of Foolish being here, you were already hopelessly in love with him. But you didn’t want to be. Love meant getting hurt. You didn’t want to be put through that.

But it was Foolish. Foolish who had a smile that could cheer anyone up; Foolish who had a squeaky laugh that was funnier than any joke he told; Foolish who’s shark tail would swing side-to-side every time he was excited; Foolish he couldn’t contain his happiness; Foolish who made you feel more special than anyone else ever has; Foolish who you’re in love with.

And, as you lay there in your bed that night, you come to think that maybe love couldn’t be so bad if it was with Foolish.

So, you set out for him in the morning, hoping to tell him about your feelings. You waited at the spot that you two always sat it: A tree to the east of the village. It was nice and peaceful, and you were happy you began coming there with Foolish. Time passed, and he wasn’t there. Usually, he was there before you, always up bright and early. You never knew why though.

It only took twenty minutes until you realized he wasn’t coming. Had you done something? Maybe you upset him in some way? You tried to rack your brain for anything that you could’ve done, only to come up empty handed. You didn’t remember doing anything wrong anyways. Still, you had to go and see what it was.

Your legs carried you to Foolish’s door as if it was something you had done a thousand times before. And it certainly was.

You knocked at the man’s door, waiting for a response. You didn’t get one. Odd.

“Foolish? Hey, it’s me, [Name]. Are you in there? I was waiting for you at our spot, but you didn’t show, so I got worried. Did I do something? I don’t remember hurting you, but if I did, I’m sorry. Will you please come out?”

No response. You huffed, eyebrows furrowing. You decided to take a peek in the window, standing as high as you could, but you could only see a little bit inside. His bed was made, like it always was, but Foolish was nowhere to be seen. You were worried now. What if something happened to him? What if he was kidnapped? What if—

You slapped yourself in the face. You had to be calm. Foolish was probably out doing something and would be back later today, just as he always was. He’d be back (thought it felt more like a reassurance now).

Hours passed. No signs of Foolish being back. You were growing restless, pacing in your living room, chewing on your hands. You couldn’t stop worrying about him. It was dumb, you know, but you couldn’t stop. You wanted nothing more than his safety.

Your worrying for Foolish was cut short when a scream rang out in the village. You almost thought you didn’t hear it at first, but as soon as you processed what it was, you ran outside. People were running towards you, screaming and panicking, and as you looked past them, you could see why:

Fire. Fire was spreading throughout the village, starting at one of the houses, and continuing to each and every building. You could feel the heat. Frantically, you looked around as to what could’ve caused the fire, while also trying not to get trampled in the onslaught of people. Even if there weren’t many, they were all running out the same way.

Before you could move a muscle, you spotted a figure atop a horse, holding a torch.

Foolish.

He was there. Right in front of you. You were almost happy to see him before the torch in his hand registered in your mind. You almost didn’t want to believe it. How could Foolish— The guy who you gave a tour of the village to, who’s lived here for months— even think about burning the village down? What had happened to him?”

You yelled his name. He was quick to turn around, with one hand holding the horses’ reigns and the other wrapped around the torch. Several emotions flashed across his face, before confusion and anger were set in stone. “What are you still doing here!? Go, run!” He urged you, motioning towards where everyone else was running. You stayed in place.

“Did you burn the village down!?” You yelled instead, watching the surprise flash across his face. Before, again, anger was set in stone. His eyebrows furrowed, and his grip tightened on the torch.

“I did what I had to do, [Name]. Now, go. Before you get hurt.”

With a harsh tug of the reigns, Foolish’s horse was speeding past you, the flame of the torch attaching to whatever it could. You could only watch in confusion and hurt and anger. How dare he burn the village like that? How dare he make you fall in love with him?

A tear fell down your cheek. You sniffed and wiped at it, before running as fast as you could away from your now ruined home. Your home, your love, and your town all gone within a span of minutes. You could almost laugh at it.

You were right. Everything ends in tragedy.

You ran until your legs couldn’t carry you for hours upon hours. Adrenaline still rushed through your system; the only reason you were even standing up right now, honestly. Still, it couldn’t hold you over forever. As it began wearing down, you could feel the ache in your joints, soon wincing with every move. It hurt. And it was all his fault.

With anger seeping into your heart, you passed out in the grass.

When you came to, you were met with a wooden ceiling and a severe wave of pain. You hissed, blinking wearily as to not have your eyes fill with tears. The amount of pain was something you’ve never faced before. You must’ve run longer than you thought you did.

You sat up, groaning. You raised a hand to your head, feeling it throb. You winced, looking around to see where you were; just as you thought, you had no clue. Great.

Squeaking made you sneap your head to the entrance, seeing a boy walk in with a wet towel. He looked surprised that you were awake, before cracking open the door and sticking his head out. "Tommy, they’re awake!” He shouted. While you could hear what you assumed to be Tommy running to the door, you instead focused on the boy in the doorway.

He looked young, probably around eleven or twelve. Red horns poked out from behind his hair, and you could see a horned tail swaying as well. He moved aside for another boy to come in: Tommy. He looked around the same age, with blond hair and bright blue eyes. He turned towards you. “Finally awake, eh?” He asked. You nodded.

The pair walked towards you, the shorter of the two handing you the wet rag. You sighed as you placed it on your forehead, immediate relief flooding through your system. “We found you passed out in the field,” The boy with demon horns explained. “So, we brought you here. Oh! I’m Eryn, and this is¾”

“Tommy! The one and only! All the girls love me, you know?” He cut the other off.

You snickered at him, a fond smile on your face. You’ve always liked kids. Tommy seemed to take mock offense to that, eyebrows furrowing comically and a huff coming from him. “We should’ve left you in the field,” He grumbled. Eryn elbowed him in the side.

“Tommy!”

“What!? We should’ve!”

Eryn gave a final glare, before turning towards you. “What were you doin’ out in the field anyways? Did something happen?” You tried to talk but was only able to cough. Some of the smoke must have gotten in your lungs. You groaned internally. “Oh! Right, here’s some water.” Eryn carefully handed you the water, the two boys watching you gulp it down.

Eryn took the empty cup, handing it to Tommy to refill it. He whined at him having to be the one to do it but walked off anyways. “My…” You trailed off, clearing your throat. “My village was burnt down. Not far from here, I think.” Eryn frowned.

“My village was burnt down recently too. Weird, innit?” You nodded.

“Well, this is Tommy’s village. The people here are nice. You can stay here as long as you’d like if you want. I’ve been staying here too.” He explained, a kind smile on his face. He couldn’t be any older than a preteen, and yet he had apparently had his home burnt down. How was he acting so strong about it? You didn’t have the gall to ask, so you instead opted to answer his question.

“I probably will… if that’s okay, of course.”

He smiled. “Of course. I’ll check with the guy who runs the place, but it should be fine either way.”

Tommy came barging in a second later. “I’ve got your water!”

As time passed, you were able to finally leave your bed. You were accepted as the new member of the small town, and even became more acquainted with Tommy and Eryn. You found out both of them were twelve, but Tommy was older by a few months. He, of course, held this over Eryn any time he could.

You were fond of them. They were like little brothers to you.

Years passed since you first came into the village. Tommy and Eryn were both now fifteen, and you couldn’t be prouder of them for everything they’ve done. They were bright kids who you’d now grown attached to. However, it was when they were fifteen that Tommy would have to decide between a server and his home.

The invite to the server, Dream SMP, was hand delivered by Dream. He had found out where the boy’s village was— How? You had no clue,— and was willing to invite him and one other person. Immediately, he turned to Eryn, hope shining in his bright blue eyes. “This could be a new start for us, man! Think about it! And it’s to the Dream SMP! How fucking sick is that!?”

The Dream SMP was a small server, consisting of a few people, but the people in it were popular as well. George NotFound, Sapnap Halo, and Dream WasTaken were all highly regarded people. They made the server famous by simply being it. Everyone wanted in it, so once you get an invite, you don’t turn it down.

Eryn thought differently though.

He frowned, looking around at the village. “I don’t know. I like it here, Toms. I’ve grown close with them. They’re like family to me now.” He answered, making Tommy gawk at him. “But it’s to the Dream SMP, Eryn! This village will be fine without us. Just please say you’ll go, Eryn?” Tommy tried to do puppy eyes. Eryn simply smiled at him.

“Maybe if I get an invite later on, okay? But, right now, I’m content here.” Eryn looked over at you, then back at Tommy. “But maybe [Name] would like to go.”

Tommy looked over at you. You smiled back at him. “I’m good. I’ll stay here and keep Eryn company.” You could see the relief flash in Eryn’s eyes, despite how he was willing to let you go if you wanted to. Tommy huffed but didn’t press It any further. He didn’t seem mad, just slightly upset. Which was expected.

“Wait!” He suddenly snapped, turning to Dream. “if Eryn ever gets invited to the SMP— Which I’m sure he will after you realize how amazing and awesome he is— then can he use my extra invite?”

Dream seemed to hum in thought. “Sure, kid.”

“I’m not a fuckin’ kid, prick!”

Tommy was set off with his stuff the next morning, bright and early. You and Eryn say goodbye, watching Dream open up a portal for him and Tommy to walk through. The boy gave you and Eryn one last wave, and you could’ve sworn he was tearing up. He would’ve snapped at you if you said anything though, so you merely waved. You could hear Eryn sniffling though. And maybe you were too. Just a little bit.

More than a year had gone by when someone from the Dream SMP came by again.

Neither you nor Eryn were expecting to open the door to see Sapnap. He looked intimidating, with large horns that stuck out from his head and a bright gaze that resembled a flame. He smiled at you two though, holding two slips of paper in his hands.

“Two tickets to the Dream SMP. Just for you guys, per Tommy’s request.”

You and Eryn lit up at the mention of Tommy, hurriedly packing your bags. You were happy to see him again, and you could tell Eryn was too. He missed his best friend, and you missed your pseudo little brother. As Sapnap made the portal, Eryn couldn’t stop bouncing on his heels. “How is he? Toms, I mean.” He asked.

Something came over Sapnap’s face. Sadness, guilt, and sympathy. “He’s… doing okay, I think. He’s been through a lot, but I know he’ll be happy to see you guys.” Worry started churning in your gut. What could he have been through? Hopefully only normal teenager stuff. But you were glad he’d be happy to see you and Eryn.

The Dream SMP was… chaotic, to say the least. Just the look from the spawn made you think about what could’ve happened here. Sapnap gave you guys a short tour, until you guys came up to Tommy’s house. Which was a dirt shack? You and Eryn glanced at each other but made no comment about it. Sapnap knocked on the wooden door.

“Tommy? You in there? I brought some visitors.”

There was shuffling from inside, before a voice that unmistakably belonged to Tommy began shouting. “If you don’t have any of my wives with you, then go away!” Eryn snickered at that, and Sapnap rolled his eyes.

“They’re better than any of your wives, Tommy. Just come on out.”

There was grumbling and more shuffling, before the door swing open to reveal… Tommy?

He looked different. Much different. Not only was he taller than before, his blond hair had grown out, and now had a white streak in it. His once bright eyes looked dull. Scars littered his face, and a blue cardigan covered him up. He looked sickly pale too. You couldn’t dwell on that thought, even if you were sure Eryn was doing the same thing.

“ERYN! [NAME]!” Tommy shouted.

He tackled you and Eryn, unable to contain his excitement. Just like when he was smaller. You and Eryn both laughed, quickly returning the hug. Tommy leaned back, glancing between you and his former best friend, before laughing. “You’re here! Both of you! You guys actually came! Oh, my Prime, it’s been so long!”

“Too long, man!” Eryn laughed.

They were happy. Your pseudo little brothers had reunited, and they were happy.

After the reunion, Tommy began taking you on a tour. “A better tour than a wrong’un like Sapnap could give you,” He had said. The tour was fun, and you were happy to see them so happy, until Tommy suddenly stopped.

“I know who’s builds you guys will enjoy! Let me show you to the best goddamn builder you’ve ever fuckin’ seen.”

Although you and Eryn asked who it was, Tommy said that he’d save who it was for a surprise. He was most likely to be at his house anyways. So, you and Eryn followed Tommy through the Nether, to a different portal. That portal lead you all to a dessert which, as Tommy had said, was packed with wonderous buildings. You and Eryn awed at it, taking a look around for yourselves.

Tommy and Eryn had run off to look at the pyramid, but you stayed behind, looking at the large buildings. Whoever built all of it had amazing skill and too much time on their hands.

After more looking around, you heard footsteps from behind you. Tommy or Eryn, you thought. “This place is great, guys, really—” You turned around.

There, in front of you, was Foolish. Foolish from years ago. You gaped at him, and he gaped at you. “[Name]…?” He let out, taking a step towards you. That same anger from years ago that you had long forgotten came back. And it was boiling.

“Don’t say my name,” You hissed, watching him take a step back. “Don’t even speak to me. Not after what you did to my home. How fucking dare you, Foolish!?” You were yelling now, but you could care less. Years of anger that had settled at the pit of your stomach was rising to the surface now, and you were determined to let Foolish feel your wrath.

“I’m sorry.”

“You’re sorry!?” You laughed. “You should’ve been sorry years ago.”

“I was sorry years ago!” Foolish snapped, his fists clenching. He let out a sigh. “I was sorry. I am sorry. It was supposed to be a heist. And then I got attached to you and it all went wrong. I wasn’t supposed to stay there for that long, or fall in love with you, but I did!”

You stayed silent. Only some words registered for you.

“You fell in love with me?” You murmured.

His eyes softened. “Yes. I’m still in love with you. I’ve thought about you every day.” Carefully, he brings a hand to yours, engulfing it in his warmth like he had years ago. Your hand shook in his grasp, and he placed a kiss to the top of it. Somehow that only made it worse.

Your lip trembled. “How do I know you won’t hurt me again?”

“Because I’ve changed. I promise I have. Let me prove it to you. Please.”

You’re conflicted. You want to forgive him, but you don’t. It’s been years, and holding onto anger isn’t good, you know that, but you can’t help it. Not when you can still hear their screams echo in your ears. Not when you can still feel the smoke in your lungs. Yet, somehow, some part of you wants to forgive him. Why?

Because it’s him. It’s Foolish who used to make you feel like you were on cloud nine; it’s Foolish who made you feel like you put the stars in the sky; it’s Foolish who made you feel special when no one else could; it’s Foolish who made you believe in love; it’s Foolish who you’re still in love with.

And maybe that’s not so bad, as long as it’s with him.

Tentatively, you bit your bottom lip, refusing to meet his gaze. “I don’t…” You hesitate, trailing off, but one look into Foolish’s green eyes and suddenly you feel like you can take on the world (for him). “I think I can forgive you with time. But not now.”

A grin broke across his face. He shouted in glee, abandoning your hand to pick you up instead, spinning you around happily. You squealed and laughed as he did too, his infectious laugher only make you laugh more. He held you close to him, and you can see the old Foolish in him. The one that made you smile until your face hurt and laugh until your stomach hurt. Maybe you could forgive him.

“I’ll prove to you that I’ve changed,” Foolish whispers, still smiling.

You smile back at him. “I’ll be waiting.”

#bones writes #dream smp x you #dream smp x y/n #dream smp x reader #dream smp fanfiction #dream smp fanfic #foolish gamers x reader #foolish x reader #foolish gamers x you #foolish x you #foolish gamers x y/n #foolish x y/n #foolish gamers fanfiction #foolish fanfiction #foolish gamers fanfic #foolish fanfic #mcyt x reader #mcyt x you #mcyt x y/n

230 notes · View notes

utterlyazriel · 3 months

Text

the green emotion

someone requested jealous!azriel and i... made up a whole plot. i hope it's decent and fulfills the craving ! i'm a firm believer than he's so silly when he gets jealous <3 friends to lovers, about 4k

Azriel was not a jealous Male.

That was what he told himself. Jealousy was something that possessed the likes of Cassian or Rhys, driven to territorial acts that likened them to wild beasts. Fueled by their protectiveness, their senses dulled beyond reason.

Jealousy was a sharp whip with a taunting bite and Azriel was one of few who did not bend beneath it.

He had adopted a strength over millennia, an iron will, that prevented him from harboring such unsavory feelings. He was a stronger male than that, not so easily willed by strong ugly emotions such as jealousy.

That was what he told himself — as he tailed behind you, hanging back far enough you could not detect his presence, his shadows shrouding him.

It was reaching evening in Velaris, the last remnants of the sun's dappled light scattered across the cobblestones. You were clothed in a velvet cloak that reached down to your ankles. Its hood was drawn up, to cover your face.

If Azriel didn’t know you so well, not the weight of your steps and the lithe you carried yourself with, you may have slipped by unnoticed.

But Azriel was the Spymaster for a reason — and you were keeping secrets.

Truly, it itched and picked at him as he turned reason over and over again in his mind as he followed you. What possible reason could you have for skirting around in the dark? To slip from your friends and cloak yourself, wishing to remain unseen on the streets of your home?

It didn’t make sense to him. No thoughts of treason ever breached his mind. You wouldn’t dare, he knew that. You treasured your family as deeply as Azriel did himself, having bled and fought for your space beside them many years ago.

But as Azriel traced the path you walked, knowing you were fully in your right to go about your business however you pleased, it couldn’t be ignored. Logic kept pointing fingers in the same direction.

If he did not suspect you of withholding vital information from your court, then his quiet tailing must be fueled by something else. Something as trivial as an emotion such as…. jealousy.

Azriel bristled at the thought and his wings shook silently behind him, as if shaking off some imaginary snow.

He did not get jealous.

He was simply… ensuring the safety of his court. Which included your own safety. Even the thought made him grimace in the shadows, knowing the smack he would receive from Cassian if his brother ever heard the implication you couldn’t fend for yourself.

You most certainly could. Azriel and Cassian had both spent their fair share of hours battling against you in the fighting ring, training you up.

And it’s hardly likely that the image of you — donned in your fighting leathers, forehead beaded with sweat, chest heaving as you gripped your sword tight and grinned across the ring — was something Azriel would forget anytime soon.

Cauldron boil him if he ever had to admit aloud just how often he thought of that image.

Still, something within him kept his feet moving, footsteps as quiet as the night.

Faelight illuminated across the cobbles, the light of the rising moon, brighter in this court than any other, cast across the doorsteps of the townhouses. You had wound through the streets and ended up two streets stray from the Palace of Threads and Jewels. On a doorstep that Azriel had never seen before.

Your hood fell to your shoulders as you pushed it back gently, revealing the column of your throat and the curve of your shoulders. The faint moonlight glided across your skin, a luminous glow curling up against your collarbones. Azriel swallowed from his place in the shadows.

It was never a surprise to find you beautiful. To revere your enchanting otherworldly beauty — that Azriel was used to. And yet still, even after all these years, he had not managed to master the way it stole the breath from his lungs every time.

A familiar hunger yawned within him. He averted his eyes from you to the door.

He forced himself to take in the details, listening as his shadows whispered things his eyes could not attest. An artist's home. Damaged and rebuilt in the last battle of Velaris. The inhabitant was a Male, living alone.

Something blistered awfully inside Azriel.

Why would you visit a home such as this? Azriel could think of a few reasons that could warrant a visit so late in the evening, with your face concealed and your footsteps light. He felt his stomach turn over. Something foul burned in his gut.

The door before you opened and Azriel turned his face fast, slicing his gaze to the ground before he could see the Fae who greeted you.

Suddenly, this felt too close to an invasion of privacy. If you wished to keep your lovers a secret, as he himself did, this was a direct violation of your wishes.

That was... if this man was, indeed, your lover.

Something vulgar, something ugly reared up in his veins. Azriel clenched his fists at his sides, siphons gleaming, and willed it down.

Jealousy would not become him. Jealousy was not— did not control him.

And yet he could feel it, coursing through his blood, choking up his throat. Azriel tried to push it down, to fight against it with reason, with logic. You were promised to no Male, least of all to him. But...

But he could've sworn.

As quickly as the words appeared in his mind, Azriel stamped them down with an icy fury.

A silent curse followed them, directed at himself for his own foolishness. How many times would he walk this road before he eventually learned?

There had been no heated moments between you, no wandering eyes, no lingering hands; none that he had not imagined. None that his mind had no conjured up in its own twisted hope.

When you sought him out in the night, tormented by your own mind and how it kept you from sleep, you were seeking... a friend, Azriel realised bitterly.

There was nothing deeper to your decision to show up at his door but no one else's. Nothing was hidden in the way you chose a seat next to him at every dinner, nor the way you found a way to be beside him at the tables at Rita's.

Sitting close enough so that he could smell the alluring scent of your perfume. Could see the gleam of your bright eyes as you glanced at him after every joke, almost as if to see what might make him smile.

No. He steeled himself, shutting down every sweet moment of you he had been subconsciously collecting, holding to a greater magnitude than you clearly did.

You were not like Mor or Cassian. You did not warm the sheets of many Fae beds, slipping in and out of them without a care.

You were... alike to himself, Azriel had thought. Dedicated yourself to one.

He scowled at himself in the dark. This— this rendezvous in the dark did not dispel what he knew about you. It did not make it untrue.

It simply meant his feeble hope, that the one, the Fae you might dedicate yourself entirely was him... was just that—a hope.

It did not sway the reality of the world, the matter of truth that you crept out in the night to meet on shadowed doorsteps. Azriel felt his shadows smoking around him, spun into a frenzy at his unwelcome revelation. He snapped in his wings a little tighter.

Coming here tonight, following you, had been a mistake.

—

It seemed perfectly logical after that night for Azriel to take a step back, to rein himself in.

Not that there was not much to rein back — but the small actions reserved just for you, the unrestrained smiles, the inside jokes ribbed back at one another.

The things he had perceived as meaning more. He knew, that if he wanted to protect his heart from further ache, he should stop doing them.

But... maybe the only thing he did better than fighting, he thought grievously, was being utterly lovesick for someone who would never feel the same.

At the very least, he would hold his feelings to secrecy. It began with the smallest retractions, like weaning an addict off their favourite drug.

Azriel knew if he pulled away too quick, it would send him into a sort of withdrawal — and after all these years spent together, he wasn't sure he knew how to live with a deficit of you. Of your brazen smile and sparkling eyes.

Slow and sure. Over the next week, he willed himself to quit bothering you, to empty a space in your life so you could invite in others, those that meant more to you. So, there could be space for your new... lover.

Even the word sounded bitter in his mind.

Azriel opted for longer training in the morning. Let his sparring sessions with Cassian bleed longer and longer, not leaving the blazing hot rooftop even when Cass winds up limping inside.

He had received a halfhearted scowl from the warrior, undoubtedly for how unrelenting he had been in his fighting this week.

The time he usually sets aside for you, to read side by side in the library, to bake, to enjoy each other's company — Azriel swept it aside for you, to free up your schedule.

Noticed how you spend your free time down in Velaris. He doesn't dare tail you again.

The week crawls by slowly, stretching out thick, black tar.

Come Sunday, a day you normally reserved for spending with him, Azriel knows his extra insistence on training isn't enough of an excuse to keep you away. He trains late anyway.

True to his suspicions, it takes less than an hour for you to appear— having come to find him.

Azriel can sense you, even before his shadows murmur sweet things in his ears about the most beautiful Fae watching him through the window.

You're lingering at the door, unusually reserved. He can feel your hesitancy, even as he works his aching muscles through yet another set of exercises. His shadows stay in close, the edge of his body whispering in and out of darkness, his siphons gleaming.

You wait, watching quietly, until the sword he's wielding, a strong, broad Illyrian blade, is placed down to rest. Then, there's the soft pad of your feet as you step out into the training area. He hears you coming but he does not turn to face you.

“I've missed you this week.”

Even with his back turned, Azriel fights to keep his expression neutral, even as his eyes flutter at your admission. There's a tug on his shadows, their desire to wisp across to you proving a challenge to resist. He holds himself still, stern, and doesn't even a ruffle of his wings to indicate he's heard you.

"I—" Azriel begins. He still can't bear to turn to face you. "I'm sorry to hear that."

He can hear the noise of confusion that slips from your throat — evidently, it isn't the response you're expecting.

Azriel focuses on the sword before him, his bicep bulging as he lifts its weight and wanders to the stand of weapons. He pretends to be immersed in the decision of which to train with next, even though he's been out here for hours.

Even with his silent cold shoulder, he can still hear you behind him, your feet dragging softly across the ground in what is surely a hesitant nervous action. But still, you haven't left.

"Well, maybeee…" You continue on, voice still aiming for light and breezy, as if he hasn't been avoiding you. You're still trying.

Azriel's chest tightens up with a familiar ache, one that always lingers around you. Since seeing you that night, on another Male's doorstep, its sting has become particularly cruel. Jealousy has a cold bite.

"If you’re nearly done... I mean, if your somewhat obsessive workout regime is finally complete..."

You're winding on, taking jabs that would normally make him smile. You'd take a gentle rolling of his eyes at this point. Azriel turns to you, his face remaining passive.

"I was wondering if you wanted to come sit with me in the library," You say, voice suddenly softer now that he's facing you. "If you’re not too busy, that is.”

Azriel steels himself, eyes cutting to the ground as he forces himself to not wilt beneath your hopeful gaze. He knew it would be hard to pull himself away from you but this? This is nearing torture.

He clears his throat. “I am.”

He turns and begins to peel off the layers of Illyrian leathers from his torso, remaining diligent at keeping himself from caving to you. He can feel the ugly emotion rolling just beneath the surface, a gruesome green monster that threatens his usual composure.

Behind him, he hears your soft, saddened oh. His wings give a tiny shiver at it, even as he continues the methodical process of unwinding after training.

Piece by piece, his armor comes off, until even his shirt has been shed. His skin glistens under the shine of the afternoon sun, the muscles beneath rippling and sore from exertion.

There's a moment of silence and Azriel keeps his head bowed as he gathers himself, prepared to bathe the sweat and grime off himself. It wasn't a complete lie he had told.

Perhaps, he thinks wistfully, he could wash some of his unjust jealousy away with it. Being so unwound by his feelings is taking its toll on him, considering how unused to it he is. He waits, ears keenly listening for the sign of your departure.

After a minute of quietness, he can only assume you've slipped away silently. He sighs, half in relief and half in his sorrow.

"What are you busy doing?"

Your voice pipes up and Azriel glances behind him, surprised that you haven't left after all. His wings tuck in a little tighter.

"y/n." He murmurs your name and it comes out almost as a plea. Now, faced with you pulling apart his loose lie, Azriel finds he doesn't have it within him to lie to your face. "Please."

You don't say anything.

Azriel's shadows dance around him, agitated and frenzied, and he wills them to calm— though, that had always been an impossible request in your presence. He takes a sharp inhale and walks towards the door, leaving you behind on the rooftop.

He gets halfway down the hallway, heading for his room before your voice calls out again.

"Busy avoiding me?"

You've followed him from the training ring and now you stand at the end of the hallway, your arms crossed firmly across your chest. Your face is contorted into a hard expression, a furrow between your brows.

Azriel sighs and turns back to you. He hadn't been able to keep his secret from Mor — why, oh why did he think that he would have any more luck when it came to you?

You— enigmatic, wonderful you. Maybe, all Azriel hopes to do today is to delay the inevitable rejection for a different day. An easier day.

A day where he isn't feeling so easily undone by his the enormity of his envy. Envious of what he can't have but so desperately desires.

As he turns to face you, it's impossible to miss the way your eyes dart down to his bare chest. You stare for a moment too long and it looks like it takes an effort to drag your eyes up. You swallow heavily, the bob of your throat unmissable. Even from afar, Azriel swears there's a glow to your cheeks.

No. No, he wasn't doing that to himself anymore! He wouldn't— he couldn't be having those thoughts about you anymore. You had a lover for Mother's sake.

"I'm not—"

"Oh my Gods, don't even try to say you're not avoiding me." You interrupt him sharply. You begin to stamp your way down the hallway, eyes narrowed, your annoyance clear to see.

A door in the hallway opens. Distracted by something over his shoulder, Cassian takes a blundering loud step out into the hallway before he freezes.

He spots you first, eyes widening and wings bunching up at your obvious fury. His head turns, finding Azriel down the other end of the hallway.

"Oh... Mother, this is happening now, huh? I'm just gonna— uh, get food later." He jerks his thumb over his shoulder, quickly turning and disappearing back into his room. His door closes with a quiet snip.

In the moment of distraction, you don't notice how Azriel has moved away stealthily— his shadows aiding his quiet getaway. He's not entirely sure what his plan is; he doubts he can avoid this argument by simply shutting himself in his room. Turns out, he's selfish enough to be willing to try.

Sure enough, it takes another moment before his wings twitch, his shadows reporting on your incoming footsteps moments before he hears them himself.

He busies himself with digging through his drawers and sends a silent request to the House, praying it might keep the door locked against you.

He can do this— he can swallow down his burning heart and keep your friendship he values so dearly, he swears he can. Just not today.

He hears the door open.

Glancing up, he narrows his eyes at the House and calls it a foul word in his mind. The Faelights of his room seem to twinkle mischievously in response.

"Az," You breathe softly.

His name sounds unbearably tender coming from your lips. His wings give a little rustle, curling closer around himself.

Despite his lack of reply, you aren't deterred. He can hear your footsteps, gentle and not at all like your prior furious stomps down the hallway, as they wind around his bed.

Chest stirring with an old ache, he keeps himself facing away. He slips a shirt on and prays you give him one more day to rein in his treacherous heart. One more day. He just can't do it today.

"Did I... Did I do something?"

Your voice is suddenly a lot smaller.

Azriel softens instantly at the sound of it, feeling his resolve begin to crumble. He crushes his eyes closed and thinks of what he had seen down in Velaris — forces himself to imagine you with another Male, in his arms, in his bed.

But even if his jealousy is so terribly unwarranted, he cannot bring himself to lie to you.

"No," The word grates out his throat roughly.

Because it's the truth. You hadn't done anything wrong and— and Azriel refused to hurt you just because he couldn't contain a few rampant feelings.

"Really?" The tinge of annoyance is back in your words and Azriel can't even blame you.

"Because then why it is that you have been avoiding me since— since the day I was-"

You cut your own words off and Azriel fills in the blank on his own. Since the day down in the city—where I saw you entering another Male's home, hidden in your cloak, like you were meeting a lover— and even though you're completely allowed to do that, I am like every other gods forsaken jealous Male in Prythian, getting upset over this, even if you are not truly mine.

He turns to you finally, his hands clenched at his side and he wills the next sentence out.

"What or who you choose to spend your free time with—" He inhales a long breath, forcing his face to remain neutral even as he feels his teeth grit together. "—is none of my concern."

Your face scrunches up, confused. Then the furrow between your eyebrows is back and Azriel feels a tad nervous. You aren't often angry, least of all with him.

"Cauldron boil me," You bury your face into your hands for a second. Then you drag them down languidly with a groan, peeking up at him over your hands.

"Did you follow me?"

Azriel feels a bit off-guard. His voice isn't as sure when he says, "It is my duty to survey my court."

You bristle a little at that and the nervousness within him grows a little bigger.

"'Who I choose to spend my time with?'" You repeat his words back to him with a tone of incredulity, your hands motioning wildly before you. Faintly, Azriel begins to sense the feeling of foolishness rising within him.

"For Mother's sake, Az, I was buying you a birthday gift, not sleeping with him!"

The moment the words burst from your lips, two things happen. Azriel stiffens, the true nature of your stealthy endeavor through Velaris making a fool of him indeed.

You were... cloaked and hidden because you had been planning a surprise. For him. For his birthday. Something he hadn't even considered was around the corner as it held no high merit with him. His eyes widen and his lips part an inch.

And you — you straighten up, eyes wide, looking as though you've been struck by lightning.

"You were jealous." You gasp.

Not a question, a statement.

"No," Azriel denies, without thinking. His heart rabbits in his chest. The irony of acting out the way he did, because jealousy had blinded him in the first place, is not lost on him.

Suddenly, all his envy is washed away, replaced quickly by a bumbling foolish embarrassment. He wishes he could winnow out of the House. He considers the window behind him for a moment, if only to spare himself from revealing his true feelings to you.

One glance back at your face, your expression edging towards crestfallen, and any thoughts of running away vanishes.

"Yes." He quickly amends, voice meek.

His wings give a little shudder, twisting in closer as he realises what he's admitted aloud. How there was no coming back from this.

No one had ever made him as loose-tongued as you do. Azriel is embarrassed to be caught stumbling over his words.

"I realise..." He croaks out, suddenly finding the slats of the floorboards immensely more interesting. His shadows have slowed from their nervous frenzy, making lazy motions instead, as if to soothe him. "That may not be ideal. My feelings, that is."

A beat of silence. Azriel studies a spot on the floor intently. His heart flounders wildly behind his ribs. His embarrassment seeps something closer to mortification.

Your shoes peek into the edge of his vision and Azriel's head shifts up slowly, his hazel eyes finding yours and burning into them.

His shadows whisper a thousand things to him — but all of them are dulled, quietened, as he simply stares at you. Feels something between the pair of you hang in the balance, just a breeze from unraveling.

Your eyes are bright. Acutely, he realises he can smell relief rolling off you in heavy waves. Amongst it, too, is a hint of... happiness. Happiness.

“Oh, you big Illyrian baby,” You coo, a teasing lilt to your tone.

His cheeks grow warm. Something white-hot tips down his spine as you step in closer, swaying into his space. He can smell the alluring scent of you and his heart thrums in his chest at your nearness, aching to be closer.

"Some spymaster you are, huh?" You say, voice barely above a whisper.

Azriel stays silent but his head tilts to the side just an inch in his puzzlement, his eyebrows knitting together. Hazel eyes peer at you with such an intensity that it sends goosebumps crawling across your skin— his eyes searching your face for answers to his thousand questions.

"Knowing everything except for this." You continue, words feather-soft.

You don’t say what this is but Azriel thinks he knows. Hopes he knows. His hands at his sides clench tighter, his fingers curled up into fists, and the motion catches your attention.

Moving so slowly, you reach out and gingerly take his wrist between your delicate fingers. Azriel lets you. A whine crawls up in the back of his throat and his swallows it back down.

He watches closely as you pull his hand up, forward, cradling it with your own two. His fingers twitch, so unfamiliar with such tender touches.

The shadows scouring around his shoulders burst into a frenzy, circling down his arms and twirling around your intertwined hands. It's as though they're... dancing, Azriel thinks.

"I... hoped." He admits quietly, his voice full of longing.

You shift his mottled hand, turning it gently so his palm is facing yours. Then you hold your own up against it, like you're comparing hand sizes.

Azriel can barely tear his eyes off where your hand presses into his to look up at you. Something molten hot begins to scorch through his veins. A realisation. A dream that may be finally answered. It feels like pure starlight.

Your hand is dwarfed against his own scarred one — and when Azriel curls his fingers, they hug the top of yours gently. You press back against his hand, like the smallest hug back.

You murmur back. "You don't need hope."

Your gaze skirts up from your joined hands, your lips twitching into a nervous smile.

Your eyebrows have drawn together in the middle, just a bit, as though what's happening is something you find devastatingly beautiful. As though you think that way about him. About the two of you, together.

Azriel finds himself thinking of all he would give in the world —all the mountains he'd move and dragons he'd slay— for you to keep looking at him that way.

"You already have me."

#i'm so on the fence on whether i like this one ! >.<#but i do think he would be sooooo foolish once he got jealous #esp if u were nearly a thing but not quite #and i do think he wouldn't have a kiss. just a handhold #when u two finally come together :")#azriel x you #azriel #azriel shadowsinger #azriel shadowsinger x reader #azriel x reader #acotar fanfiction #azriel shadowsinger x you #acotar

2K notes · View notes

foolishlovers · 28 days

Text

Where a Canvas Blooms by foolishlovers

It’s an Arrangement. Aziraphale knows this. He knows a lot of things, and others he doesn’t, but the most important things, he knows. He knows that the cheeky redhead in his arms smiles and purrs when he runs his fingers through his hair, knows that Crowley’s hands are rough from working outside, knows the softness of his heart. Aziraphale doesn’t know he’s in love with Crowley until he does. But it’s just an Arrangement. Is it? Part 1 of The Cuddle Arrangement

word count: 3.8k rating: T relevant tags: Human AU, Trans Aziraphale, Trans Crowley, Touch-Starved Aziraphale, Touch-Starved Crowley, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Cuddling & Snuggling, Comfort, Pining art by the wonderful @omens-for-ophelia

#pls scream with me about the beautiful art i love it so much 😭#also appreciating all the support/reblogs/comments!! 💜#good omens #good omens fanfic #good omens fanfiction #good omens fic #good omens human au #aziracrow #aziracrow fic #ineffable husbands #trans crowley #trans aziraphale #aziraphale x crowley #foolish writes #where a canvas blooms #the cuddle arrangement #cuddle au

944 notes · View notes

k9povnd · 1 year

Text

Hello Islanders, please acquire your translating device immediately.

help me afford top surgery!!

3K notes · View notes

quackarl · 1 year

Text

MCYT HAVING A CRUSH • HEADCANONS

A/N: I write for Foolish and Punz now too, everybody cheered! Here’s some (really specific, too!) headcanons on how they would act when reaaallyyy crushing on someone… Any way, please keep sending me requests! May take a while for me to write them, but hey, I’ve been feeling really excited about writing lately 🫶🏻 My next, or one of my next, uploads will be a full-length little fiction piece of Dream having a crush, sooo we’ll continue with this crush theme… 👀

DREAM:

If you were a streamer yourself, he’d definitely gift subs on each stream of yours. Let’s be real, he wouldn’t settle for 20 gifted subs, make it a 100. Sometimes he’d donate and attach messages with them such as “hey nice stream you got there” or just straight up “(sugar) daddy dream is here”. UM, RIP CHAT. AM I RIGHT? Knowing him, it’d be an unnecessarily large amount of money, but he just wants to see the stunned look on your face and hear you thank and praise him for his generosity like no other. Man’s smiling so hard at himself and feeling a little prideful for being able to spoil you like that, in front of thousands of people watching too, and thinking if only he could spoil you as more than a friend.

Giving you piggyback rides! Or more like demanding to give you piggyback rides… Dream would give off such cocky energy when he’d get to carry you on his back, though. Like you were royalty and he was your carriage. I can just imagine him walking around piggybacking you and someone asking him for a favor, to which he’d reply “I’d love to but I’m kinda busy here, and my hands are kinda full so…” and gesture at you on his back and his hands supporting you. You’d hurrily try to climb off of him, to which he’d just yelp a little “no!” and then proceed to throw you a reassuring smile over his shoulder, silently telling you he likes having you so close to him.

Yeah so, those little acts of service are it for him. He’d feel the urge to spoil you, as stated before, and this side of him would strongly come out if you ever were to shop with him around. If you ever wanted to even look at an item, you better do it quick and not let him see. Because the moment he sees you looking a little too hard at or twiddle with something you’re considering buying, he strides over to you and starts asking “you want it? ‘Cause if you want it, it’s yours” and you can already see him taking out his credit card. And before he even gives you time to think, he has already bought it for you. Damn, he’d buy the whole store for you in a heartbeat if you asked. So, better not even joke about it to him…

You know the really cheesy move guys pull when they yawn and stretch and lift up their arm and then put it over their crushes’ shoulder? I feel like Dream would be so guilty of attempting that, successfully attempting that. He’d make it super playful though, he doesn’t want to scare you away, in case you wouldn’t feel the same way about him. After successfully getting his arm around you, he’d blissfully sigh “ah! This is nice, or what?”

He’d make playlists, for himself. And they’d be public for everyone to see. Nothing weird about that, right? Or at least at first, there was nothing exceptional about them, or so did everyone thought, until later a few fans pointed it out that, maybe coincidentally, the first letters of each track spelt out your name. Totally not a coincidence for Dream, even though that’s what he tells to the curious public: it’s all a coincidence. He wouldn’t be afraid to make his crush on you obvious to the world. Because no one would know just how serious he was about it, instead he’d just play it off as playful banter between two close friends. It’d be just for him to know that he did it out of true affection. Maybe someday for you to know as well, he hopes. But for now, he settles for playing it cool and laughing off the people online freaking out.

Even more of being close to you. Like in forms of giving you massages. Yep. He’d sneak up behind you and just start massaging your shoulders. In a totally friendly way. Or so he hopes it seems like, because again, he doesn’t want to scare you away. So a friendly massage. And who are you to turn down a free massage? And so he’s massaging away and relishing in getting to be close to you again. He’d get super into it though and probably make a few dramatic “Ohh! Ahh! Oh yeah!” sound effects of his own. He’d ask you then “you feel good now?” You know damn well that Sapnap would fight the urge to ask Dream does he like making you feel good.

SAPNAP:

Congrats, now that he’s (still secretly) hardcore crushing on you big time, you have a hype man of your own (that’s him). If it came to video games and watching you play them, he’d (sometimes lewdly) comment on every move you’d make in the game, such as “you’re so fucking good at that. You know what being around a good player, who’s also hot, does to me”, he’d scream “YEAH!” a little too loud whenever you’d win. Others hearing it will point out his constant praise with a “yeah, we get it already” to which he’d mumble a quiet “shut up” and bite back a smile. Like Dream, he just wants to like you loud and proud, but not give it away that he’s actually being serious and doing more than just platonic flirting. He also finds you being skilled attractive, no matter how small the said skill is. Even when it comes to mundane things, he’s still rooting for you. It could be something as simple as cooking with him and his need to praise you would get triggered by something as simple as you working a blender perfectly. Yeah… He cheers and claps when you’re done blending and then explains himself when you question what got him so excited, “n-no, nothing, it’s just that, that can be pretty tough, y’know? Especially avoiding spillage. Dream usually doesn’t know how to do it the right way so-“ “Yes, I do!” Dream would interrupt and yell from the living room. Sapnap just hopes he shuts up so he doesn’t blow his cover. He knows that Dream knows damn well how to use the blender, but in his eyes you’re just superior at everything, so even if it takes throwing Dream under the bus to make you feel superior, he’ll do it.

Okay, so, he loves praising you but he also likes hearing you praise him. He’d trick you into it though by asking you questions such as “don’t I just look so good today?” or “do you like this new hoodie I bought?” You’d have no choice than to agree and tell him that yes, he looks nice. It literally has him falling asleep with a smile on his face that night, wishing that the more you tell him that, the more you’ll also convince yourself that he is indeed pretty cute, and hot, and handsome, and all that. He’d do anything to convince you that he’s the most handsome thing you’ll ever see.

God help him if you’d ever talk to him about someone other than him, any other guy. Yeah, his heart would break a little, but it’d also make him super competitive and, well, petty as hell. You could even harmlessly compliment Karl and he’d instantly get into a “but I’m better” mood. And that’s also exactly what he’d ask you, “but he’s not as cute as me, right?” You’d be taken back a little and tell him that “I think there’s no reason for that,” which should be enough to reassure him and his petty mood, but he’d just pout and grunt back “we’ll see about that.” He can’t sometimes stand anyone else than him hearing those compliments from you, especially if he was in a grumpy mood to begin with. Talking about compliments, he’d also learn any skill just to impress you. And to be better than everyone else. Simp behavior…

He’d also be sooo whiny. He’d use that whiny tone to convince you. Trying to convince you to stay over at his house for a little longer. Or trying to convince you in voice call to play one more round of a game with him on stream when you’d have million of other important things to do instead. He’d talk in that tone only for you, but he wouldn’t really care if others heard him. Usually if any of the boys would hear him, they’d definitely gag at his sweet talk. All in good fun, of course. If you were to deny him and his attempt to get you to join his team for just one more round, he wouldn’t stop whining for the majority of the stream nor the call. 30 minutes later and you can still occasionally hear his voice whining, “whyyyyy? But why would you say ‘no’? Pleaseeeee....” aaand cue to Karl gagging.

Sapnap would be so slick when it comes to spending more time with you, or initiating to spend more time with you. He’d ask you “hey, do you remember when we went to that arcade?” and you’d be a mess of confusion because, you have never been to an arcade with him, so you’d tell him with a nervous laughter “no? I don’t think that ever happened” to which he’d smirk at you and say “well, should we make it happen?” And that’s how he took to you an arcade. And to many other places. He pretends they’re dates. But shh, that’s a secret. He wouldn’t want to ruin a great friendship. He just hopes you like the slick ones if he ever was to ruin it.

Letting you borrow his hoodie and then claiming that you can keep it when you try to give it back to him? YES. This actually would happen with a couple of his hoodies. Very gentleman-y of him. You wouldn’t even have time to finish your sentence about how cold it is outside, when he already is handing you his hoodie. You’d go through the bickering back and forth of him insisting that you put it on and that he’ll be fine without it, that he’s not cold at all, and you telling him that he doesn’t need to give it to you. He knows he doesn’t, but he wants to. So let him, please. Let him enjoy the cute view (he secretly enjoys) of you in his clothes. Later on he then tells you to “just keep it”, because he has ‘plenty of hoodies anyway.’ Oh boy, he just hopes you wear it around him sometime…

Sooo quick to defend you. Sometimes it’d be a little unnecessary how strongly he’d react, but he feels that it’s now (that he’s absolutely smitten by you) in his blood to defend and protect you from anything that could make you feel bad about yourself. It could be something as simple as someone pointing out that you bite your nails as a bad habit and Sapnap would open his mouth and tell them “bro, stop. Leave them alone.” Everyone would be a little stunned and tell him to calm down, to which he’d mutter “yeah, whatever”, but no, he wouldn’t let himself calm down just yet. For the remaining of the day he’s on high alert, ready to defend you some more.

GEORGE:

My God, he’d get so giggly and blushy around you. He’d definitely argue back that no, he doesn’t, but he does. Just hearing you laugh, he’d start laughing and giggling along, even when he’d have no clue what’s so funny and what exactly it is that you’re laughing at. And the blushing! If anyone was to point out the blush on his cheeks, he’d just shake his head, roll his eyes and assure that no, his face is not red (while he is visibly red). At his weakest, he wouldn’t even be able to look at your way without blushing. How much longer exactly will he be able to hide his feelings like that?

Sometimes when he’d feel extremely bold and brave, he’d take things to Twitter. Or someone would do it for him. What I mean is that, George would look up or come across a video of let’s say, two cats cuddling or kissing, or whatsoever, and tag you and tweet “Me and you?” Twitter has a meltdown. Meltdown is an understatement. Maybe he’d get cold feet almost immediately and delete it before too many people would see it. (Too bad that there’ll still be hundreds of screenshots of it.) Sometimes someone else like Sapnap would instead tag you and George in a similar tweet and say “this @y/n and @GeorgeNotFound???” Yeah, you may be blind to the massive crush George has on you, but Sapnap isn’t…

Filming totally pointless TikToks with him... Yeah, they’re pointless and it’s his ideas that usually are just causing confusion amongst anyone watching them. There’s no plot, just vibes. But he can’t ignore how happy and comfortable he feels with you even on camera, even when you’re doing some stupid TikTok dances. And in a way, he also gets to show off your friendship, he wishes it was more than friendship, to the world. So yeah, most of the time they were spontaneous clips that we’re just filmed in the heat of the moment, a little humorous, definitely chaotic. What anyone watching would see on the screen is just two friends hanging out and having fun, but it’s totally different from what he feels. And he totally plays them back and watches them alone afterwards, smiling at his phone, smiling at you on his screen. And then checking you out a little bit too, “wow…”

Sure, he’s able to gently joke around with you, but then somehow end up feeling a little bad for it. He could offer you a snack and ask you “you want this?” and when you’d say yes, instead of feeding it to you, he’d instead eat it himself and laugh at you “hah! You can’t have it!” Soon he’d start feeling bad for you, even though there definitely was no harm done with that little prank, but he feels bad enough to go above and beyond to get you your own snacks that no one can steal away from you, not even him. He’d present them to you with a “woo-o! Look what I have!” and wow, he’d be so red in the face again when you stare at him with your mouth agape in surprise and ask him “you did this… for me?”

Whenever someone in the room told a joke, he’d always look at you first to see your reaction, your smile, your laugh in response. That’s such an adorable little habit he has formed now that he has a crush. For him, seeing you happy and content comes first. He’d also laugh at pretty much anything you’d say. Maybe it’s nervous laughter, for how he always feels a bit nervous around you. You could be saying the most normal things, such as “I took a walk today,” and he’d burst out laughing at that. Yeah, don’t even ask... He thinks laughter is the way to your heart, as dramatic as it sounds.

But he’d also have that side of him to be loud and… annoying around you. Maybe it’d be to keep your attention on him, to keep him on your mind at all times, even when he’s not with you. So he’d find the most bizarre ways to find his way into your days. Like, prank calling you out of nowhere. He’d call you and when you’d pick up, he’d just scream down the phone and then hang up. So romantic… But then he’d get you to call him back, to ask him if he has something to actually tell you, and then manage to keep you on the phone for an hour, just chit-chatting about nothing in particular. After you’d tell him that you have to go, he’d shriek at you “nooo! But I am so bored! Don’t leave me die of boredom! And what would you do without me then, hmm? What’s even more important to you than talking to me right now? Are you scheming to get rid of me? ‘Cause you won’t!”

He’d usually turn to you for advice, he really trusts you to not screw him over. I mean, why wouldn’t he? You’re a savior and an angel in his eyes. You could give him the worst advice and he’d still blindly follow it, just because it’s advice that came from you. And in his eyes, you could never be wrong about anything. He could text you “should I get a haircut?” and you’d tell him “sure but it’s really up to you?” and yeah, he knows it’s up to him but at least he got an opinion from you so he just texts you back “yeah I guess :]”. You best believe that he goes ahead and gets the haircut, that you technically agreed with, and only hopes you like it.

KARL:

When Karl is crushing on you, he’d be genuinely offended if you did stuff without him. Stuff that usually the two of you would do together, like watch anime, or cartoons. Or any TV -show. He’d ask you if you’ve seen the newest episode of an anime you’ve both been hooked on that just came out a few days ago, thinking that it’d be nice if you could watch it with him, but when you’d tell him that “yeah. I watched it last night,” he’d let out a frustrated sigh and tilt his head back in annoyance and tell you “nooo! I really wanted to watch it with you! Now, why would you do that and watch it without me?” Of course, he wasn’t actually mad at you, but he was really hoping he could’ve made it your thing to keep up with that anime together. So yeah, he’s a little annoyed you’d watch it without him. He likes the nights when you’re both cozy on the couch, watching it, commenting on every plot twist. Big sigh.

He’d talk to you, like a lot. Even when there was nothing to talk about. Because, in his (secret) opinion, there is always something to talk about with you. He makes conversations out of anything just to get to talk to you. You could be sitting with him in his room, looking out the window, watching birds fly by and he’d just ask you “what’s your favorite bird?” and then smile at you like he didn’t just ask the most random question and like he actually doesn’t genuinely seem interested in knowing the answer. Because he does. Well, you’d end up talking about birds, flying, nature.... and he is so happy. Because all that matters is that he’s talking to you.

He’d insist on making secret handshakes with you, that no one else knows and can learn except than you two, and then feeling so proud about them afterwards. He’d remember them even after a long time, you’d ask him how does he still remember and he would just blush and stutter, “I- it’s just kind of special. Of course I remember.”

Okay, so... Fan-fiction. He’d definitely read the fan-fictions people would write about you (there already are shippers out there, even though he has not admitted crushing on you). Maybe that’s adding fuel to the fire when he’d read them on stream. Bad idea? Maybe... He’d put so much effort into the reading, making it all feel as real as possible, voice acting to the best of his ability and all. It makes chat question though, why is he so into it? And why is he giggling every five seconds? Any possible kissing scenes... He would not even skip over them, but instead he’d make literal kissing sounds into the mic... Someone stop him.

For some reason, I can imagine him casually showing up when he knows you’re around in a shirt that says something like “if you’re reading this, I have a crush on you” and look out for your reaction. Well, yeah, you read it, and so did everyone else that talked to him that day. You laughed it off and joked that “everyone already knows that he’s a homie hopper” and so did everyone else. He’d dream about the day he could eventually confess his crush on you and also tell you that he has actually told you about it way before, and when you’d confusingly ask him when did that happen, he’d tell you that “you read my shirt, that one day when you called me out for being a homie hopper, didn’t you?” And then it’d all click.

Aww, you’d get to model for his merch! He’d ask you, no, he’d beg you. Is there really anything he’d enjoy more than seeing you in his brand new merch, before anyone else sees it? And have those pictures plastered all over his social media accounts and website? No way. Between every shot he’d take of you, he’d giggle and mutter a little “perfect”, his eyes gleaming and cheeks blushing. Every minute he’d resist the temptation to tell you how perfect you really look, because 1. he doesn’t want to get too sappy now, and 2. he still has a secret to keep... Yeah, he’s crushing on you harder than ever after that.

Whenever there’d be a group gathering and not enough seats for all of you... do I even need to say it? This man would immediately get up and give up his seat for you. A few hours later you’d call over to him, “Karl, you’ve been standing for two hours now. Don’t you want your seat back already?” and he’d shush you with a “nonsense! I’m a big man. What’s a few hours more!?” Actually, he’d give up on everything to share with you if you needed, like earbuds. Or food. Anything. If nothing, it’s always the seat he saves for you or gives up for you.

QUACKITY:

Mostly you would play Minecraft or Roblox with him, if you’re into it. And oh man, he’d enjoy that a lot. He would not leave you alone even in the game, he’d follow your character around for the majority of it. You’d turn around in the game and boom, he’s right there on your tail. He’s actually been there the whole time. When it’s not only you and him, but also other boys in the game and in the voice chat, he’d sometimes just... act like it was just the two of us talking. Listen, he’s not rude like that, but he just really likes talking to you. You just get him, he’d think. And sure, you have a similar sense of humour. He likes. He’d crack so many jokes and funny remarks throughout the whole game. Just trying to be the funniest person in the call for you. Every time someone else, like George, would laugh at his joke that he told to you, he’d shut him down with a “bro, the fuck? That joke was obviously meant for (Y/n). You weren’t supposed to get it.” All in good fun, again. He just likes having his moments with you.

Phone calls! So many phone calls. He just wants to talk to you and hear your voice. Isn’t that sweet? When it’s time to hang up, he’d tell you “ah, I’ll talk to you again soon, okay?” and you’d agree, thinking that he’ll call you again in a few days. But he calls you exactly a minute later. You’d pick up and he’d excitedly tell you “I said I’ll talk to you again soon, didn’t I? What do you mean this is ‘too soon?’”

Would, gently, make fun of you. This doesn’t come as a surprise to anyone. Maybe he’d try turning the tables a little bit, when people online would get a little suspicious of his sudden fondness towards you, he’d make it seem like you are actually the one crushing on him, and not the other way. Maybe that would be also a way for him to test the waters a little bit, to see how you’d react to the thought of it. He’d just make ridiculous posts online, like tweeting a poll that says “Is (Y/N) down bad or down good for me ?? Idk about you guys but they seem a little obsessed lately” or post a picture of the two of you and caption it as “after this picture was taken (Y/n) told me they like me 😳” (You definitely didn’t and the people online seemed to side with you).

The words “I like you” has actually come out of his mouth a few times around you. In a friendly way. He knows he does like you, definitely as friends, but also definitely as more than friends. But for now, liking you as a friend is the most he can do and he wants to seize it. It was when he has done a nice favour for you or given you advice on a tough situation that’s been bothering you, when you’d thank him for what he did for you, he would reply with a “yeah, of course. I fucking like you, and care about you, so..”. It was a friendly reminder and affirmation and that’s how you perceived it. So he does tell you sometimes, not just in a way that it’d make you realise he likes you more than as a friend.

So, back to him gently making fun of you, or mocking you, he’d imitate you, your gestures. I can imagine he’d pull that with any of his friends, but you are definitely not safe from that. He’d know the limits though, he’d know not to be too harsh, but you know, from spending so much time with him and the others, you’ve kind of grown into it that there’s a lot of joking around and poking fun at each other. He’d also comment on your height, like so much height talk! If you were shorter than him, then bless you, he’d love it. Always teasing you, using you as an arm rest or asking if you need a ladder. Or you could be doing absolutely nothing and he’d tease you, “what? Do I make you nervous? You have a crush on me or something?” Orrrrr you could accidentally just mispronounce a word and he’d never let you live it down. Just reminding you of it and repeating it back to you like a parrot. But, don’t take any offence, it’s just his love language.

He’d make over-the-top fan-cams or edits of you, and purposefully make them as ridiculous and exaggerated as possible. Usually he’d also include himself in them. Making sure that everyone knows that he is your #1 shipper, but also at the same time not wanting everyone to figure it out that he’s got it bad for you. He’d put them up on Twitter regardless. You’d reply to him “wtf ???” and he’d just reply back to you “😎😎 😎” He’d dare to be more bold and confident online. And I know what you’re thinking, Alex shy in real life? Well, around you, yes, a little. But online, he’d be thriving, tweeting unhinged things at you, or of you.

He definitely has some gentleman-y in him. He’d express that by, for example, offering to carry your things for you. You’re carrying a rather heavy looking bag? “I’ll take this,” he’d just announce and snatch it out of your hands. You don’t have anywhere to put your phone or keys? Swoop, same thing, but they’d go in his pocket. A few times fans has gotten glimpses of him emptying his pockets for you and handing you back your phone and other little essentials, and it was a pretty adorable sight.

WILBUR:

I mean, the way he’d even look at you gives it all away, it’d almost be a little intimidating. But he can’t help it. The way he listens to you talk and then smirks at himself, glancing piercingly at you, occasionally glancing down at his lap trying to hide his lovey-dovey smile, trying to collect his thoughts, because God, he thinks you are so adorable. I feel like his eyes can tell more than a million words could. It’s just too bad you haven’t figured out the real emotions behind his eyes.

He’d memorise pretty much every little habit of yours, no matter how little, and then slyly smirk at himself every time he’d catch you doing them. One of those days, he’ll definitely tell you that he has taken notice of them. You’d be caught off guard and ask him “you really notice them?” and there comes that smirk on his face again, as he just nods with a quiet “yeah” and then carries on the conversation like nothing happened. But not without adding on that “it’s really cute”.

A little cliche, a little predictable, but he’d definitely all of a sudden start writing down some new mysterious, a little mushy, song lyrics... He’d run them by you and ask if they’re any good, you’d then end up asking him the important question, “who is it about?” (because, how could you not ask when it’s literally a love letter in form of a song?) and he’d sigh and say it’s about “unrequited love”. You’d leave it at that, not wanting to intrude too much, since he looks and sounds so vulnerable. He’ll wish you would’ve intruded a little more though, since he literally wrote it about you, his crush! He just doesn’t leave it at one song, but writes a couple of them. All of them about you. He dreams of being able to play them at a gig, with you in the audience, telling you they’re all about you right before going on stage... Someday, he sighs.

As a person, and especially as a person who’s really crushing on you, he would be keen on sharing every little detail with his family and close friends. So, some of his family and friends would be aware of how he feels towards you. He trusts them not to spoil the secret and hey, he could never keep his mouth shut when it comes to talking about you anyway. Sometimes while hanging out with you, he’d keep checking his phone and just smiling at it, occasionally typing long paragraphs, or so it seemed to you. You’d wonder if it’s about something you said, or if there’s someone special texting him, someone who he really cares about and really wants to talk to instead. But actually, it’d be him blowing up his friends’ phones, telling them how adorable you’re being right now. He’d be doing the whole keyboard smash thing as well. That’s how gone he is for you.

Boom, his energy and happiness levels would suddenly rise whenever you’re in the room. He’d feel super playful too, like sneaking up behind you and then whisper “boo” in your ear in a low tone, trying to playfully frighten you, and when you’d turn around to face him, you’d come face to face with the brightest eyes and smile you’ve ever seen. He’s like the happiest he’ll ever be when he’s around you. No matter how many times he has already done that, he does it almost every time he catches you alone in the room. It had almost became your thing now. You’ve learned not to get as frightened anymore as you used to, and he has learned how much he really likes getting to come so close to you and getting a reaction out of you, whether it’d be you scolding him for scaring you again or laughing at his antics.

Strumming something on his guitar for you. I know, again, very cliche, very cheesy, very romantic, very predictable of him, but no, he doesn’t do that just for anybody. But you’re very special. (Even though you don’t know how special yet). And to spice things up a bit, he’ll make it a little more lighthearted, he’d literally play you memes, or vines. Yeah, for example, you know that “I love you bitch, I ain’t never gonna stop loving you bitch” vine? Mayyyybe he’d replace the word ‘bitch’, with some platonic pet name, if he was feeling generous, lol. But yeah, just not to make things seem too serious, he’d try to make you laugh with those amusing private performances, and also try to flex a little with his guitar playing, of course. If you’d admire him in his element, strumming away on his guitar, a little too much, he’d get super cocky and yeah... Cocky Wilbur is a whole different breed.

Everything you’d ever feel embarrassed about, he’d embrace it. He’d never let you dwell on something embarrassing that happening to you for too long. If you’d totally mess up your words, or stumble and fall over, or be caught talking or singing to yourself, he’d reassure you that he finds it “very cute” and not embarrassing at all. In some situations, if you’d mess up and embarrass yourself in front of a lot of people, or in public, he’d intentionally mess up with you, just to take the attention away from you and make you feel better about it. You’d fall over? He’d make himself trip too. You’d bump against a glass door? He’ll be right there behind you to walk into it as well. He’d just never let you feel like there’s ever anything worth feeling too embarrassed over and, in his thoughts, how could anyone as adorable as you even be embarrassing? If anything, it’s just cute.

FOOLISH:

Oh man, he’d be an awkward one at first when he’d realize his strong feelings towards you, but he does get a lot smoother with time. And, he’s trying his best, okay.

He’d also be someone who would find it very important to make you laugh lots, be an entertainer just for you. Because he doesn’t think there is anything more attractive than someone he’s able to laugh with over the most ridiculous things, things that always wouldn’t even make sense to others. And yeah, also seeing you laugh is attractive to him, even more attractive if you’re laughing at a joke he made. Basically just whenever you’d be hanging out, it’d be an ongoing urge for him: must make you laugh. Sometimes it’d be him just squatting down to your level and starting to make random noises in your ear. That’s literally his sense of humour... And it’d be even more hilarious for him, if you’d do the same back to him. The most random noises he could think of, chirping, squeaking, beeping.... anything. Or suddenly starting up a game of tag with you, running around chasing each other, and the only way to tag each other was to tickle them. He’d squeal and wiggle like a worm when you would tickle him. It’s always something silly with him...

Protective Foolish would suddenly become a thing when he’d realize his feelings for you, and also realize that there’s nothing more he wants to do than protect you and your feelings. Keep you away from anything or anyone that could make you feel even a little uncomfortable, or hurt. His way of protecting and defending you would be just a chunk of sarcasm coming out of his mouth. He’d turn sarcastic any time when he’d feel like it’s time to protect you. If there was someone badmouthing you, he’d put on the most spiteful face you could think of and with his voice dripping with sarcasm, he’d ask them “is it so? Is that what you think, now? Was there a little shit talking there, or what?” You could tell that it’s okay, that he doesn’t need to do this, but he wouldn’t give up. He’d be so intimidating, with his tone and height and all, that he could get an apology out of anyone. And he usually does get the people badmouthing you to apologize to you, while Foolish just stands there with his arms crossed examining that it’s a genuine apology, feeling like he has accomplished another mission of his, which is to make sure that in the end your feelings are unharmed.

Now, he’d be definitely someone who would mess up his hair a little on purpose, in hopes that you would fix it for him and smother the strands sticking up back in place. He’s so desperate for some touch from you that he’d go to such extreme lengths. God forbid if anyone would catch him doing that, he’d be so embarrassed. You’d turn around from him for a few seconds, which would give him time to very aggressively ruffle his hair with his hands and when you’d look back at him, his hair would suddenly look like it’s been through a tornado, and so you’d laugh a little and ask him “what happened? What’s going on with your hair?” and then laugh some more because he looks so ridiculous. He’d chuckle a little bit too, a little out of embarrassment, because he still can’t believe himself for the things he’s doing just to have you touch him and pay a little extra-attention to him. But regardless, he just shrugs and bends down to your level and asks you “I don’t know what happened? What? Is it bad? Fix it for me?” and you’d be a little taken aback because, did he really just ask you to do that? But of course you’d agree to it.

Every little thing or favour you’d do for him, no matter how small or insignificant they may seem to you, he’d appreciate the heck out of them, and you. Because, was there a better feeling for him than having the person he truly, genuinely likes, to be willing to help him out with anything? He’d thank you a trillion times, and a trillion more if he could. Something as simple as you turning on the coffee machine for him, he’d tell you “seriously, thank you. That helped me like, a tons. It saved my day,” and you’d giggle and reply to him “you’re welcome. But all I did was just press a button.” He wouldn’t have that belittling, so he’d be a little more dramatic just for you and proceed to tell you how much easier it made his day, “no, like seriously, that was the best thing you could’ve ever done for me.” Okay, then.

A crushing Foolish would be so sweet that he’d totally blew off his other plans to be with you instead. You’d know that he’s been looking forward to seeing this movie with a couple of his friends that one night, but when he’d become aware of how you have no plans for that night, he’d declare how he’d rather spend the night with you anyways. You’d tell him that “Foolish, you don’t really have to do this. I thought you were supposed to go the mov-?” and he’d interrupt you “now, that’d a silly thing for me to do, I don’t know why you’re thinking like I’d leave you alone. That’s crazy thinking right there.” And so, you’d just settle for smiling coyly at him and accepting that he’s not going anywhere, and that for some reason (that’s still unclear to you), he’d even blow off his friends for you. And he’d do it over and over again. And he does.

PUNZ:

Ouch, he’s a tough one to get to. But once you breakthrough the walls and the sort of intimidating facade he has, he is all soft for his crush.

Usually he’d be a little reserved and keep to himself, maybe a little closed off. But whenever you’d be around, it’s a whole different thing. He has never smiled so much than he did that one day when you hung around, and it didn’t go unnoticed by the other boys who were also there. Karl would text you about it after you had all gone home and ask you “What did you to punz ?? This man won’t stop cheesin” and Quackity as well would text you “punz today be like ‘😃😃’”. You’d make him happy, you’d just make him love life, just purely by existing and especially when you’d exist in his presence. He’s also extra observant around you, and so you’d catch him looking at you a lot. He’d just rest his chin on his hand and not take his eyes off of you. You’d wonder if there’s something wrong, something on your face perhaps, by the intense way he’s staring at you, but no, he’s just admiring. So let him.

Every picture of himself he’d consider posting on social media, he’d send them to you first and ask you “u like??”. Kind of like a test run. He’d do it ritually almost each time, but if you ever were to call him out for it, asking how come you’re the one he sends them to, he’d claim that it’s just all a coincidence. Sure is... But you better reply back to him as soon as you can, or he would start feeling a little insecure and think if you really like them, because if you do, why haven’t you replied yet? It’s been 20 seconds. Yeah, so, he’s a little clingy too. He just wants to talk to you as much as possible, have you see as much of him as possible, from all of his best angles as well, and maybe fish for a few compliments? Maybe. After you’d reply to him “yes, it’s good”, he’d text you back “nice. now your turn”, and you’d ask him that it’s your turn for exactly what? He’ll tell you then that it’s only fair that you send him a picture of yourself too in that exact moment. And so, it kind of really then becomes a whole ritual that after approving of his picture, you send him one back with a thumbs up or something.

Unlike with anyone else, now that he has taken a massive liking towards you, he’d actually share his food with you. And that’s major. Or, even more major and better, he’d sometimes get you food without you even having to ask, or even without mentioning that you’re hungry. He’d order takeaway for himself, or so you’d think, but he’d then turn up with an extra large portion of food and you’d ask him “damn, are you feeding the whole town?” He’d chuckle a little and then casually tell you that “nah, it’s um, it’s for you.” At that, you could’ve fallen off your seat. Let’s call it his love language to serve you even when you don’t ask for anything.

This man, he would sometimes not show up to plans if you weren’t there. He’d tell his friends that he is only willing to come if you’ll be there too. And if they tell him that you’re not going to be there, then, too bad. He simply just wouldn’t come. Any plans that you’d make without him, he’d call them ‘boring’ and ‘lame’. Sooo, he only is your good time?

6K notes · View notes

miscellaneoussmp · 8 months

Text

I can see the Forever and Bad wedding now, actually. And it goes something like this (Edit: This fic was made before January 5th 2024.):

It's decorated in black and white, straight down the middle. Those in bright smiles sit in the bright white! What a happy wedding this is! It's perfect! Those without smiles sit in the darkness. This isn't a wedding at all. It's going to end up a funeral.

Cellbit stands on Bad's side, even if he's supposed to be Forever's best man. He can't bring himself to stand in the blinding white. They aren't his friends. Those aren't their smiles. He misses their actual smiles. He wishes he could stand with them. He's wearing almost all black. This feels like a funeral.

Jaiden stands at the altar. She's the officiant. Her smile is small, and she hates the fact that she feels like she's almost forcing it. She is wearing grey, a mix of the happy couple's colors. It's a happy occasion, a wedding. Why are people crying like it's a funeral?

Foolish stands next to Cellbit. He's wearing black at Bad's request, afterall he's Bad's best man. He doesn't like that it feels like a funeral. This is his idea, but he doesn't like how sad it feels. He wishes he could stand in the white. He wishes he could pretend this is a happy wedding. He knows it's a funeral.

Pac stands next to Forever, where Cellbit is supposed to be. It's not perfect, but it's fine! He gets it! He really does! Cellbit just wants to support Bad, one of his oldest friends! His nails are digging into his palm. Why is that? Everything is fine! It's Forever's special day! His wedding! That's why he's wearing a different shade of white, to not outshine his friend. What a happy wedding!

Tina stands at the end of the aisle. She doesn't like wearing black. It's not typically her color. Mouse stands at the end of the aisle. She doesn't usually wear all black. She prefers black as an accent color. Tina is holding a wicker basket of flower petals. Mouse is holding a pillow with two rings atop it. Tina pretends not to notice the tears running down Mouse's face. Mouse pretends not to notice how Tina's smile looks so terrified. They're in the roles found at a wedding, yet they're dressed for a funeral.

Phil walks up the aisle with Bad in tow. He decided to be the one to walk their friend up the aisle. He's not used to wearing black, but he thinks it fits. He noticed how Bad hadn't talked all day. It's fine, he doesn't have to be happy. If it all goes well, this will become a funeral, not stay a wedding.

Forever stands at the altar, in front of Bad. He can't believe it! They're getting married! How perfect! It's perfect! Bad isn't smiling, though. That's okay! He'll start smiling when they're officially married! They didn't even stop the clock joke for his wedding, how rude. Jaiden's voice is really nice! He's so happy she agreed to be the officiant!

"If there is any reason why these two should not be wed, speak now or forever hold your peace."

Etoiles stands from his seat, sword already drawn. He ignores the sound of other weapons being drawn and gasps and cries and sounds of people grabbing explosives. This wedding will become a funeral, it doesn't matter how. It's not truly a funeral if the end goal is almost like a rebirth, is it?

Quesadilla Island wedding tradition states that there should be at least one death and explosion at a wedding. Sometimes, people outdo their own traditions.

476 notes · View notes

benedictscanvas · 11 months

Text

be still, my foolish heart [series masterlist] - jamie tartt x reader

pairing: jamie tartt x fem!reader

warnings: lots of language throughout, some allusions to smut but nothing explicit, a LOT of fucking fluff mostly ngl

summary: when jamie gets called up to the england team for the first time, he's terrified. enter you, all smiles and swearing, and suddenly his only fear is falling head over boots for you.

chapters

[1] - to be alone with you

[2] - i swear i thought i'd dreamed her

[3] - if i could hold you for a minute

[4] - imagine being loved by me

[5] - if you got love to get done

[6] - find a place we could escape sometime

[7] - i still worship the flame

[8] - flew like a moth to you, sunlight

[9] - i've had no love like your love

[10] - let there be hotel complaints and grievances raised

[11] - couldn't utter my love when it counted

[12] - i'll crawl home to her

#jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt #ted lasso x reader #ted lasso #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt fluff #jamie tartt x you #jamie tartt series #be still my foolish heart

681 notes · View notes

alexblue29 · 8 months

Note

Foolish x fem reader

Foolish decides to help his crush on how to play Minecraft. Always provides whatever materials she needs. If he doesn't have it, he gets it immediately

If they decide to do a world together it would most likely be a chill and cozy one. His crush wanders around the map. She talks about how she wants to build a home in the cherry blossom biome and a base mine in the lush caves

He secretly constructs both buildings for her. He is bad with interior design, so he asks his chat/doozers for advice about the colors, furniture, and where should it be placed.

Then he tells her to log in to show a special surprise he made her and boom gives her the tour.

His crush is touched by his hard work and told him he didn't need to do it. Foolish would say "I wanted to because I love making you happy"

Oohhhh ohohoh that's cute as fuck!!

Minecraft Beds

You've been invited to join the QSMP and had gladly accepted. You've been streaming for about two years before they took notice of you and invited you.

You were ecstatic.

During the time before you would join, you'd gotten to know Quackity who was extremely nice and very good at talking down tour anxiety about joining an already formed group.

When you joined the very first time, you were the very first person on the server. You were streaming it, of course, but it was still pretty early and no one else was on at that time.

So, you took your time gathering basic materials and chatting with your viewers.

About an hour in, Foolish joined the server. You nervously sent a greeting in the game chat to which he responded with enthusiasm, asking you if he could join you and help you out.

You two quickly became friends, much to the pleasure of both your chats. He gave you some extra materials he didn't need and showed you around, helping you to get all the way stones so you wouldn't have to walk everywhere.

You streamed for about five hours but stayed on the game once you ended, mostly because you liked to keep Foolish company. In the end, you both played around ten hours together.

After about two weeks of the same daily occurrences, he brought up the idea of making a server for the both of them, so they could play together outside of the QSMP and just relax instead of being on edge with lore most times.

Once on the new server, you immediately took off and began looking for a cherry blossom biome, it was your favorite, you claimed when Foolish questioned you while running after you.

It took forever but you finally stumbled upon one, not before getting killed a few times by the nighttime mobs. You were ecstatic, gathering as much cherry wood as you could. You ended up making a very small house to hold you both over during the nights since gathering all the materials you'd need would take time.

Foolish took off exploring around the biome and stumbled upon a series of caves that eventually led him to a beautiful, huge, lush cave. You squeaked when he announced it, saying how much the lush caves were beautiful and you should build a base down there as well.

Eventually, you got tired. It was late, around one in the morning and you had promised your viewers a QSMP stream in the early morning. You said your goodbyes to Foolish and wished him a nice Sunday seeing as he didn't stream on Sundays.

Unknown to you, Foolish had begun streaming once you left, claiming he wanted to practice his building with different materials. He built you an amazing, huge house in the cherry blossom biome, well, the shell of it at least. He'd also started on a base down in the lush caves but he was mostly focused of the cherry house.

Anyone who watches Foolish knows this, he might be an amazing builder but he's not the best at decorations. Between the both of you, you were the decorator of the duo. Once he quickly built the shell of the house, he began asking his chat advice on decorating.

When they told him to just ask you, he caved and told them this was actually the server for both of you and he wanted to surprise you with the builds. They began spamming "simp" but he only laughed, while blushing, and urged them to help him with the decorations.

That next Tuesday, after both your streams on QSMP, Foolish was very insistent you log on to your shared server. You did so with a tired smile but frowned confused when you found yourself inside a dirt box.

He was quick to dig you out and guide you to the house. You were out of words, it was beautiful, more than what you imagine yourself making. Before showing you the interior, he ushered you to the lush caves where he showed you the, now-finished, base he'd made down there.

As you made your way back to the cherry house, he asked you to not judge his interior decorating and that you could change things around if you wanted. As you walked in, you were pleasantly surprised. You've grown used to helping each other while building, he'd help you build, and you'd help him decorate.

He had done incredibly well, you refused to change a single thing until you went upstairs to the bedroom. You noticed how there was only one bed in the room, when you brought it up he claimed because it was your house it only needed one bed.

You laughed and went to rummage through the chests until you found wood, wool and a blue flower. You turned to flower into dye, crafted a bed and dyed it blue before quickly placing it beside the one he'd put for you.

When he asked you why, you said, that since he made the entire house and decorated it, it was unfair to have him make a whole house for himself. He stayed quiet for a time and you were worried you'd read everything wrong until he spoke up,

"I wasn't expecting that." He laughed. You were quick to say that he could make another house for himself, you didn't mind but he cut you off, "No, no, no. I'll stay here with you. I only wanted to make it cause I love making you happy but if you want me to stay I can stay."

A week later, when Twitchcon came up you brought up going and he immediately booked tickets for the both of you.

#foolish gamers #foolish fanfic #foolish x reader #foolish gamers x reader #qsmp foolish #qsmp x reader #qsmp fanfiction #alexblue's fics

277 notes · View notes

keirawantstocry · 2 months

Note

maybe possibly some foolbo for the starving child of divorce

eat up

The others wondered what exactly was going on in the halls of Fobo. There was something between Foolish and Tubbo, everyone knew that. But they weren't sure quite what it was.

Understanding flashed between their eyes with just glances. They jumped in front of their daughters to defend them in twin moments. Leo teased and teased mocking Sunny but as soon as anyone else said a word to them, Leo's sword was out.

"Nobody mocks my sister but me," was a statement that shocked the islanders. Since when had they been sisters?

Their fathers mimicked their actions. Teased and bullied each other relentlessly while being the first one to jump to the others defense.

So for a while the islanders thought it was something like that. A sibling-like relationship. That was until an unfortunate one stumbled upon a... passionate scene.

"Are you in love with him?" Fit asked Tubbo hesitantly but curiously one day.

Tubbo's face scrunched up. "No, of course not. He's just... my co-parent."

"Who you're fucking," Fit pointed out.

Tubbo shrugged. "I don't have Create yet, what's a girl to do?"

No answers were discovered that day and slowly they just started to accept that what those two had was beyond any words that any language on the island could describe.

"As long as they're happy," was passed from mouth to mouth. Loved ones saw how Fobo was good for both of them. How much they laughed in each other's presence. Who were they to argue with that simple truth?

#home of fobo #qsmp #my writing #fanfiction #q!tubbo #q!foolish #foolbo #anon asks #qsmp sunny #qsmp leonarda

78 notes · View notes

sweetie-peaches · 3 months

Text

Foolbo upon ye again

Fic time (please reblog this is you don’t mind!

Tubbo has nightmares. A lot. From purgatory, the observer, the prison, and lately, his own insecurities have reared their heads as well.

In the moments he’s woken up from nightmares he’s violent, immediately making an attempt to get on his feet, find the nearest weapon, and attack.

And foolish and tubbo share a bed.

He throws himself out of his arms and off the bed, his hair falling in strands across his face. And he’s sitting on the floor. His legs tangled in the sheets that got pulled off with him.

And then he’s standing. Grabbing the nearest weapon. His breath comes out in stuttered huffs. And foolish is awake, his eyebrows furrowed. And that’s all it takes for tubbos vision to clear. Looking into his stupidly gentle and kind and beautiful eyes. He thinks he says something, but the static in his ears drowns it out. He grabs his cloak from the hanger in their shared room. He needed the fresh air, he needed to breath.

He hurries up the stairs and out the door, he registers footsteps following behind him as he belines to the chocobo pit, his legs dangling off the side. The birds were asleep now, only a few chicks awake and roaming, their soft down feathers puffed up for warmth from the cool night air.

The static still echos in his ears, and he stares down. His vision blurs around the edges, he felt like he was floating, somewhere else other then his body. Before, when he got like this after nightmares he’d throw himself into his work. Staving the feeling off.

But now he can’t do that.

He feels someone sit beside him, the heat of another body makes him more aware of how cold he is.

Foolish doesn’t touch him, doesn’t say anything to him. Just is there, a comforting presence. reminding Tubbo he isn’t alone.

And eventually he’ll shuffle closer to him, bringing his knees to his chest as he curls into his side.

And eventually he’ll cry. Barely visible tests trained to be silent drip down his face onto the grass beneath them. And foolish will whisper comforting words into his ear, he’ll tell him it’ll be okay. Careful not to touch him until Tubbo practically collapses against his chest. Wrapping his arms around his torso as he sobs

He’ll press kisses onto the crown of tubbos head and he’ll hold him close.

And eventually when his tears fade foolish lifts him up and carries him to their shared bed. And he tries to stay awake with Tubbo (he learned that the man never fell back asleep after a nightmare)

But when he falls asleep holding Tubbo like a glorified teddy bear. Tubbo will look at him and smile, pressing a kiss to his cheek. His voice is wrecked by sobs, but still he whispers a small thank you and a love you to the shark

And sleepily, foolish responds with a love you back

#peaches posts #qsmp qosts #qsmp #qsmp tubbo #qsmpblr #tubbo #qsmp shipping #qsmp foolish #qsmp fanfiction #foolbo #they make me sick #also gave Tubbo a touch aversion because me too bestie

70 notes · View notes

god1ngs · 2 years

Text

OF DREAMS TOO DARK TO MENTION, OF LONGING, AND OF YOU

foolish's death shattered him. you're there to pick up the pieces.

# c!foolish gamers x gn!reader

word count: 1k words.

warnings: death.

bones' note: woooo haven't written in a while, take this c!foosh fic cause im in love with him

“Everybody behind you is defenseless.”

Red. Dark. Hot.

People are yelling, voices mixing among each other with panic imbedded in them, but he can’t make them out.

“They’re about to be slaughtered because of you.” Ant.

Everything comes rushing back to him: The Egg, the Red Banquet, the betrayal.

Anger settles itself deep into his bones, ugly and throbbing. He wants to yell, to scream, to go back in time and make sure the Red Banquet never happens.

Instead, he stays still. He doesn’t move. He can’t move.

“Foolish— your own son— is about to be slaughtered because of you.”

Ant steps beside him. Panic settles in him.

More people are talking, but he can’t make out what they’re saying over the ringing in his ears, over the dread of the inevitable. He knows what’s coming, and he doesn’t have the power to stop it, just like the first time.

“Puffy, you could’ve stopped this if you had stayed with the Eggpire, but this is your fault.”

A gleaming sword raises, and he panics and terror grips him and it’s coming down and it’s cold on his neck and he wants to run away, but he can’t and it cuts and oh god is this what it feels like to be mortal?

Foolish wakes up heaving, the scar on his neck burning and cold sweat dripping down his forehead. Another nightmare.

Just a nightmare, he tries to reassure himself, that’s all it was.

He puts his heads in his hands, trying to catch his breath, trying to remind himself that he’s not dead. He’s alive and breathing. He’s not dead. He’s still here.

He brings a hand to the scar on his neck. It burns, something it only does after nightmares and memories. It’s a reminder that Gods can die. Gods can bleed. Gods are not exempt from Death’s cruel hands.

It’s a reminder that peace doesn’t always work. It’s a reminder that Foolish failed.

There’s a question that worms its way into his head, brushed off as quick as it came, but it still sits in the back of his mind:

Would this had happened if he had been like his old self?

Would he had died if he had been using his hands to kill instead of build?

Would he be having nightmares if he had been everyone else’s nightmare?

But he doesn’t want to be that person anymore. He doesn’t want to live a life of anger and mistrust, only talking through his sword. He doesn’t want people to fear him anymore.

He vowed to leave behind his ways of violence.

Now, he could be peaceful. He could build instead of slaughter and still have the same control. He could create empires instead of tearing them down.

He could sleep at night knowing he wasn’t feared, and that he had people to fall back on.

It was nice. It was peaceful. It was safe.

But now he’s sitting here, head in his hands and wishing he had never gone to the stupid banquet. He was so ready to put water under the bridge. He was so ready for everything that has to do with the Egg to be left behind.

There’s a sour taste in his mouth at the thought of the Egg.

Rustling of the sheets behind him interrupt his thought process. He looks behind him, seeing your now awake figure sitting up. Any thought of the Red Banquet and the Egg disappears immediately, replaced by thoughts of you, you, you.

He would’ve never survived had you not been there when he died.

You were so frantic, panting from having run from the Egg room all the way to his Summer Home, but still worrying about him. You held him while he wept, reassuring him that he was okay, he could make it, he was strong.

Someday, he wishes he could shower you with the amount of love you showered him with that night (without the death part). Until then, he’ll keep finding ways to repay you.

His eyes soften as you yawn, rubbing your eyes. He takes your hand into his using a special kind of gentleness only reserved for you. His hand dwarfs yours, but he doesn’t mind. He thinks it’s cute.

Foolish brings your hand up to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to the top of it. “Did I wake you up?” He whispers.

You shake your head, another yawn tumbling through your lips. “No, you didn’t,” You say softly, gaze focused on him. “Did you have another nightmare?”

Most times you awoke to Foolish hunched at the end of the bed, it was because he had another nightmare. You always told him that he could wake you up, but he never did.

“Was it that obvious?” He asked, a sheepish grin on his face.

“A little,” You admit, a cheeky grin on your face mirroring his. “But it’s okay. You’re okay.”

The gentle murmur of your voice makes him relax instantly. He’ll never tell you, but you always have a way of easing his panic. He doesn’t know how or why, but you just have a way. Sometimes he thinks you're magic.

He smiles softly, nodding at your words. “I know,” He says. “All ‘cause I have you.”

You scoff and roll your eyes. “You’d be fine even without me.”

He hums, shaking his head in disagreement. “Nah, I don’t think I would be,” He answers, giving your intertwined hands a gentle squeeze. “You’re like… my glue. I think I’d fall apart if I didn’t have you with me. You keep me in one piece.” Foolish slides back under the covers, pulling you into his side again, your head on his chest. He looks down at you. “Is that too cheesy?”

“Very,” You say, but your smile says otherwise. “But you’re too cheesy in general.”

“Only for you,” He says in return, laying a kiss on the top of your forehead.

You roll your eyes again, but don’t say anything, simply allowing your eyes to close. You’re sure you’ll fall asleep sometime soon— Foolish’s embrace has always been comforting in that way— but until then, you’re content to sit in silence.

Silence with Foolish has always been nice anyways.

masterlist | taglist

134 notes · View notes

jahayla-parker · 9 months

Text

Foolish One : Kaz Brekker x Reader

Description: 4.7k wc, angst set to the tale of Foolish One by Taylor Swift. Reader has feelings for Kaz and her wishful thinking results in her suffering from a heartbreaking realization when Inej returns.

Warnings: angst, heartbreak, sadness, crying, unrequited? feelings, SoC standard triggers/topics, no happy ending

Y/n stifled her hopeful smile as she knocked on Kaz’s door. Upon hearing his gruff voice express she could enter, y/n took an anxious breath as she turned the doorknob leading to his office. “Morning, Kaz,” y/n greeted sweetly, stepping into his workspace.

Kaz looked up from his desk. While it wasn’t a smile, the edges of his lips did curl up faintly in response to y/n’s greeting. He knew of her feelings towards him. Normally that would mean pushing her away, but since Inej had left them, he’d been trying to be better at these things. As such, Kaz had been working on being warmer and less harsh towards y/n. He figured if he could, maybe he had a chance of one day being in a semi-normal relationship.

Y/n gracefully crossed the room and sat in the chair across the desk from Kaz. She was always careful to respect his boundaries. As such, y/n kept her hands in her lap instead of fiddling with the new set of pens on his desk.

Kaz picked up on y/n’s gaze and a smirk took over his face. “You can play with them if you’d like,” he offered civilly. “There’s no need to drool over pens,” Kaz joked in a monotonous tone.

Y/n felt her cheeks warm rapidly in embarrassment. She gave Kaz a small grateful smile before she reached across the space between them to grab one of the pens. As y/n spun one of the new pens in between her fingers -her eyes scanning the shiny device-, she couldn’t help but wonder if this was a sign from Kaz.

Y/n had developed a crush on her boss -and friend- Kaz Brekker about a year ago. She never acted on it, assuming it was one-sided and fruitless. But, over the last few months, things seemed to change. Kaz was friendlier, more open about things (albeit minor things, but it was still progress), sought her out to help on things she suspected he didn’t actually need her assistance with, and overall made it seem like maybe, just maybe, he was interested in her too. Y/n’s foolish heart clung onto that hope and belief from the very first sign. Now she was in too deep. After all, Kaz was only simply letting y/n play with the pens on his desk, and she was taking it as a small gesture of his affection.

Jesper had tried to keep y/n’s crushing heart more grounded, worrying her feelings towards Kaz wouldn’t end well. While he’d have to admit that he had seen the way the Bastard of the Barrel was softer towards y/n than he was to the other Crows or Dregs, Jesper didn’t want y/n to get her hopes up. He knew Kaz wasn’t capable of being clear about his feelings and didn’t want y/n to get caught up in all of that. He’d seen it happen to himself and Inej already.

Jesper knew y/n was an incredible person, and it wasn’t that he didn’t think she was worthy of Kaz’s attention or romantic interest. Instead, he didn’t think Kaz was worthy of y/n’s affection. Wylan had kept Jesper from interfering with whatever was transpiring between Kaz and y/n as of late. But, that didn’t mean that Jesper didn’t see it and worry about what was going on.

As great as y/n was, Jesper knew she wasn’t the exception. He knew Kaz would never be able to offer y/n what she was looking for, what he and the other Crows knew she deserved. Nevertheless, he saw y/n’s hope lift anytime Kaz showed her any attention or consideration. Jesper tried to warn y/n not to stitch her happiness to someone like Kaz, much less to Kaz’s cold and distant heart; but she didn’t want to hear it.

In fact, even when there were warning signs that something wasn’t right, y/n’s wishful thinking took over and brushed those fears away. For example, in the last few days, she’d been getting less and less from Kaz. Y/n had heard from Inej that she was returning to Ketterdam in the next few days. She knew Kaz was aware of this as well as their group had discussed it the other night over dinner. Yet, instead of connecting the dots between Kaz’s sudden shift in attention and this simultaneously learned fact, y/n ignorantly disregarded it.

Y/n didn’t often fall this hard. In fact, she had started to move past her crush on Kaz until he began treating her as if she had a chance. By now, he’d manage to give y/n just enough attention to keep her hopes too high and block out the voices of reason in her mind. She wasn’t usually known to be foolish, otherwise she’d likely have never been part of the Dregs; much less made a Crow. But, when it came to Kaz, things were different.

No amount of reasoning voices in y/n’s mind could keep her from falling harder and harder for the Bastard of the Barrel. She didn’t need Jesper’s friendly -yet protective- warnings about the situation. Y/n’s own mind had told her all of those same sentiments already. Yet, she nonetheless found herself sinking further into her wishful thinking more every night.

“You can keep that one,” Kaz offered, his rough voice cracking through the thoughts in y/n’s mind.

“Huh?” Y/n mumbled as she tried to refocus on the present moment. “Sorry, what?” She asked, looking up from the pen. Y/n’s eyes met Kaz’s for a brief second before he looked away.

“It’s nothing special,” Kaz muttered casually. “So you can have it,” he said, waving his gloved hand dismissively.

Y/n’s heart flittered with hope at the notion. Even if he claimed it wasn’t special, y/n knew Kaz only offered her the pen because of how she’d been staring at it for so long just now. The fact Kaz was freely offering her something of his, something so new and shiny no less, made y/n’s chest feel warm.

“Oh,” y/n smiled lightly. Truthfully, she didn’t care about the pen. It had merely been where her eyes had chosen to land as she daydreamed about her situation with Kaz. But, she cherished the sentiment from Kaz. “Thank you,” y/n replied, hooking her fingers around the pen tightly.

Y/n sighed to herself as she watched the sun set. She rubbed her arms aggressively with her cold hands in an attempt to stay warm despite the chilly air. Y/n should’ve known she’d be alone tonight. She had invited Kaz to join her, hoping watching the sunset would help him decompress after their failed heist earlier today.

Kaz had agreed to meet her, but didn’t say when he’d be out. As such, y/n had been sitting out here for awhile before the sun began to set. Normally she wouldn’t have waited so long for someone to show up to an agreed upon event. But, Kaz knew how to keep her waiting. In fact, he actually said he’d come tonight. So, even as y/n watched the sun disappear behind the horizon, she told herself maybe something came up that prevented Kaz from joining her like he’d said.

When y/n made it back to the Slat, she quickly learned she was correct; something had come up. Y/n rounded the corner near Kaz’s office and heard Inej’s voice. She was back earlier than expected. Normally this would’ve made y/n happy as it had been awhile since she’d last seen her friend. Only, she could see the agonizing closeness between Inej and Kaz.

It wasn’t just a metaphorical closeness either. Kaz allowed Inej to stand mere inches from him, his gloved hand resting on Inej’s clothed arm. Y/n knew the two had been close friends, or what amounted to a close friendship for someone like Kaz. But, she couldn’t help but feel jealous as she witnessed the two sharing a look as if silently communicating something with just their eyes. As metaphorically and literally close as y/n had gotten to Kaz lately, both achievements were easily outdone by the scene before her.

Y/n went to back up, hoping to quietly flee the scene. Only, her heel smacked into the corner loudly. She winced as Inej and Kaz parted instantly and looked her way. She pasted on a fake smile as Inej grinned upon seeing her.

“Y/n, oh hey!” Inej exclaimed. She stepped away from Kaz and neared her friend, a smile gracing her lips as she did. Inej watched y/n’s eyes flicker to Kaz for a split second before looking away and then back at Inej.

Y/n hugged Inej as she acted like she was fine. It wasn’t the first time she had to seem bulletproof around Kaz. But, this time it hurt more as it involved her friend as well. She didn’t feel like she even had the right to feel this way. Y/n knew she couldn’t call Kaz hers. Yet, these last few months had her thinking one day he’d come around and that maybe, someday, when they were older, the miscommunication and longing was something they would laugh about.

Y/n ignored the way she could feel Kaz’s eyes on her as she greeted Inej with faux enthusiasm. She couldn’t wouldn’t show weakness or sorrow. She didn’t have the right to. And y/n had seemingly misunderstood the connection she felt she and Kaz were forming these last few months. So, she would act as if as if she were fine.

“We need to catch up!” Inej exclaimed, squeezing y/n’s arm lovingly. She slid her hand down until she reached y/n’s palm and then interlaced their fingers. Inej looked over her shoulder as she offered Kaz a soft smile before guiding her friend from the room.

Y/n kept a false smile painted on her lips as she silently walked with Inej. She felt bad for not being super excited to see her friend. But, she couldn’t help it. Kaz had once again given y/n just enough to keep her guessing and waiting, but not enough to know where she truly stood.

Was Kaz interested in y/n? Was he interested in Inej? Saints! Was Kaz even interested in anyone at all? Y/n didn’t know. But the voices of reason in her head kept trying to warn her that something’s really not right. Nonetheless, y/n’s foolish heart allowed her wishful thinking to cloud those warnings. Kaz simply missed Inej. Besides, Kaz and Inej had been friends much longer than Kaz even knew y/n, it made sense that they’d be closer. Surely it didn’t automatically mean anything more than that.

Or at least that’s what y/n’s foolish heart allowed her to believe. Even as she laid on Inej’s bed -the one Kaz left unoccupied even as the Dregs grew in size- listening to her friend catch her up on her adventures, y/n ignored the mention of how Kaz had written Inej multiple times during her trip. Kaz didn’t write or try to communicate with y/n when she’d been gone on a few week long trip for a personal matter. Y/n assumed it was because that just wasn’t Kaz’s thing. But now, it seemed like he was perfectly capable of doing it, he just hadn’t. At least not when it came to y/n. Y/n’s mind screamed at her that Y/n clearly wasn’t the exception to Kaz’s shutdown persona. But once again, she let her foolish heart and wishful thinking mute those voices of reason. Kaz was new to this whole romance thing, that’s likely all it was.

Y/n stuck to that notion even as she laid wide awake in her bed that night. She could faintly hear Kaz talking to Inej, their muffled voices seeping through the old floorboards of the room above hers. While she couldn’t make out what was being said, y/n could tell by her friends’ tones that they were both interested in whatever the discussion was. Y/n could tell they were both too intrigued with the conversation to even consider saying goodnight to her much less keep her company tonight. So, once again, the way she had during various times when Kaz would inexplicably shut her out again for a bit, y/n talked herself to sleep again.

Unable to fall back asleep, y/n rubbed the fatigue from her eyes and rose out of her bed. She’d woken up to yet another nightmare. They weren’t foreign to her at this point, so she knew how to handle it. As such, Y/n groggily tiptoed down to the main level in search of some water and maybe a snack.

In her exhausted and still slightly on edge state, y/n hadn’t paid attention to the fact that there were a faint amber glow showing underneath the door to the kitchen. This meant, she unexpectedly came face to face with the scene on the other side of the door upon sleepily entering the kitchen. Y/n’s eyes widened and her hands instinctively lifted up in surrender as she took note of what she’d walked in on.

Inej was standing before Kaz in a tank top, her back to him. Kaz was behind Inej, a wet washcloth in one hand and a needle in the other. Both of Kaz’s hands were uncovered; he’d removed his gloves, for Inej. The slight maroon tint staining the washcloth told y/n that Kaz was attending to a wound on Inej’s back.

Y/n quickly glanced away from her friends, her eyes dashing to the grungy floor beneath her now shaking legs. “I-I.. I’m sorry,” she mumbled bashfully.

“It’s fine y/n/n,” Inej assured her.

Y/n could hear the slight disappointment in Inej’s voice loudly in the otherwise quiet room. It confirmed for y/n that whatever she’d walked in on was as intimate as it had looked. Y/n shook her head, trying to keep her tears away. She could do this, she could act bulletproof. She’d done it countless times now, surely she could do it again now even after witnessing how Kaz had pushed through his boundaries for Inej.

It wasn’t that y/n wasn’t proud of Kaz for being able to tend to someone’s wound, especially without his gloves no less. But, it was only a few days ago when y/n had gotten hurt on their failed heist and had to be patched up by Nina when Kaz refused to even look at her wound. So, seeing he and Inej like this tonight stung y/n more than any physical wound ever had.

As y/n glanced up from the ground, she chose not to look Kaz’s way. She didn’t want to see the indifferent and likely even frustrated look she expected to be on his face at her accidental interruption. “Sorry…” y/n whispered again, giving Inej a remorseful look.

It was the same look Jesper often gave y/n wherever Kaz would give y/n just enough attention to keep her foolish heart hanging on to a thread of hope. She knew what it was like to be in Inej’s position. Theoretically that is, since Inej had only been back a day and was already in a better, more romantically intimate situation with Kaz than y/n had made it to in the last several months. Nonetheless, y/n knew what it was like to be teetering on the edge of what felt like a moment where Kaz just might actually confess his love only for something or someone to interrupt and burst that moment. So even though her heart was breaking with every second she stood there in the kitchen, she still felt for Inej. Kaz wasn’t one to offer such a confession, but he knew how to keep someone on the ropes in search of one.

“Y/n,” Kaz’s voice echoed through the empty kitchen. When y/n’s reluctant gaze landed on him, he offered her his equivalent of a sympathetic expression. “Did you need something?” Kaz asked, making a show of looking at his pocket watch.

Instead of her eyes landing on Kaz’s golden pocket watch -he one she’d gifted him-, y/n’s eyes were focused on the paleness of his bare hands. Kaz had never so much as removed his gloves around y/n unless absolutely necessary. Yet here he was, practically touching Inej with his bare hands in the dimly lit kitchen in the early hours of the morning. Y/n swallowed thickly, hoping to ease the lump in her throat as she willed her eyes away from Kaz’s hands.

“I.. I umm…” y/n mumbled, panicking more when she saw Inej’s unspoken concern as to why she was so nervous. For once, Y/n let the voices of reason in her mind guide her tonight. You are not the exception, she told herself as she steeled her facial expressions. “I had a nightmare, I just came down for some water,” she explained, adding a ridiculously stiff nod as she sidestepped her friends.

“Are you okay?” Inej asked sweetly, moving away from Kaz to check on y/n.

Y/n gripped the glass in her hand tightly to keep from showing how much her hands were shaking from what felt like betrayal. She flicked the handle on and held the glass under the faucet for a few excruciatingly long seconds. “Yes, thank you Inej,” y/n replied shortly, turning the water off. She silently took a few sips of her water as Inej and Kaz watched. “I’m fine,” y/n added, boldly braving a fleeting glance at Kaz.

Y/n gritted her teeth with annoyance as Kaz wore what almost seemed like an attempt at an apologetic expression. She shook her head wordlessly before taking a few more sips of water. Y/n was still excessively thirsty, but every second she spent in the kitchen like this with Inej and Kaz was too much. She quickly dumped the remainder of her glass down the sink and mumbled a hushed goodbye to Inej before quickly departing from the room.

Y/n threw herself onto her bed, the tears bursting through the temporary dams she’d built minutes before. She didn’t even bother wiping them from her face, instead simply letting them cascade down her skin in all directions. By the time her mind had tired enough to let her sleep, her pillow was damp. The dampness only made y/n realize just how thirsty she still was, even more so after having cried for so long. But, she refused to leave her bedroom. While she figured Inej and Kaz likely had left the kitchen by now, y/n didn’t want to risk it.

Y/n wasn’t sure how much more she could take. Inej had only been home for a little over a day now and y/n was already crying herself to sleep. Truly it wasn’t Inej’s fault. Saints, it wasn’t even Kaz’s if y/n was being honest. Jesper and the others had tried to warn y/n about this. Y/n’s own mind tried to warn her about this. But it wasn’t until tonight that she truly started to realize those thoughts might be true.

Y/n knew that Kaz wasn’t a love confession type of person. And as much as she wished for one from him, she believed she’d somewhat accepted that it would never come. In reality, she just hoped to be the exception. Or, at a minimum to get a clear sign from Kaz that he authentically felt the same way y/n did when it came to this situation between them. She was foolish enough to think that maybe, just maybe, he’d come around. But as she felt her exhausted eyes drifting closed against her damp pillow, the voices of reason in y/n’s head amplified until there were louder than they ever had been before.

Y/n rocked on her heels as she waited for Inej to answer the door. She knocked moments ago, but still hadn’t heard anything from the other side of the door. Y/n looked at the plate of waffles she managed to sneak away from Nina as they grew colder on the plate in her hands. She leaned her ear up against the door to listen carefully for any sign Inej had heard her. Only, the door creaked open from the pressure of y/n’s head resting against it.

Y/n cautiously pushed Inej’s bedroom door open the rest of the way. She quickly examined the room, promptly noting that Inej wasn’t there. Nothing seemed out of place or as if something bad had happened. So, y/n figured her friend had ventured out for an early morning walk along the rooftops of the Barrel.

Y/n sighed softly to herself as she set the plate of waffles down on the ratty desk by Inej’s window. That’s when she saw something was out of place. On Inej’s windowsill, there was… a handpicked collection of y/f/f. While it struck y/n as peculiar, the writing on the minuscule note tucked into their stems made her freeze in place.

There wasn’t any explicit confession of love for Inej on the note, but y/n would know that handwriting anywhere. She blinked through her now watery eyes as she re-read the note again. “The Crows are glad to have you back,” y/n whispered, her lip trembling. It was Kaz’s writing and the flowers and note were as much of a love confession as one could expect from Kaz.

Y/n’s cheeks dampened with tears as she hastily exited Inej’s room. She couldn’t believe it. Kaz had actually given someone flowers. He’d actually even seemingly utilized his Barrel-learned skills to sneak into someone’s room to do so.

But the worst part for y/n wasn’t any of that. It wasn’t even the indirect note Kaz had written to Inej. Although, that hurt too as y/n could easily read past his words and how he tried to cover up his own emotions. She could see the note for what it was. And Kaz had never said nor written anything of the sort to y/n.

Yet, it was the specific type of flowers Kaz chose that served as the final blow. The fact Kaz picked y/f/f to gift Inej was the kill shot, the bullet that pierced through y/n’s façade of a bulletproof heart and erupted once it made contact with her soul. After all, it was less than a full 24 hours ago when Kaz had asked y/n what the best type of flowers were.

Y/n had foolishly let herself read that inquisition as a sign. Her wishful thinking also had her momentarily believing that the fact Kaz had remembered it enough to bring it up in a later conversation with her was proof he cared enough about y/n to not just ask questions and listen to her response, but to actually memorize her answers, her likes and dislikes, her favorite things; her favorite type of flowers. If y/n was honest with herself, she’d even been foolish enough to think Kaz might one day get some y/f/f for her. In fact in her mind, y/n had foolishly seen it play out the way it seemingly had in real life to Inej; a vague note -not directly confessing Kaz’s feelings but enough to make her feel loved, her favorite flowers making her realize he cared about her interests and took time to show it -even if he tried to cover it up as to not be too vulnerable, the flowers and indirect love note left casually for her in her room unsigned and unannounced.

That’s what made it hurt so much, y/n hadn’t gotten kaz so terribly wrong. She just wasn’t the exception. Y/n hadn’t learned her lesson in time to prevent her foolish heart from shattering into an infinite number of tiny shards. She should’ve walked out a long time ago. She should’ve listened to her friends’ warnings and her own internal voice of reason. Y/n should’ve never expected anything from Kaz. She should’ve known that even though she made headway, she’d never be Inej. And she’d never get his heart.

Y/n only made it a few steps before she felt her miserable body crumpling towards the floor. She let gravity slide her down the wall just outside of her bedroom, her right shoulder grazing the corner of the doorframe. Y/N’s head dropped into her shaking hands as more tears poured from her tired eyes. “How could I not see the signs?" She sobbed quietly, her nails poking the skin on her forehead as she shook.

Y/n had been a stepping stone, a lesson, a pointless heist one uses to gauge their ability and the threats the real heist would entail, and nothing more. She wasn’t Kaz’s exception. Inej was. Inej always had been. As far back as y/n could remember, Inej was the exception. Yet somehow while Inej was away, y/n had let herself believe it was her; that maybe y/n was the exception. When in reality, Kaz had been trying to better himself for her; for Inej. Kaz’s exception was Inej; not y/n. The love confession from Kaz was never going to come. Not even in a Kaz-like manner. Not to y/n at least. Inej was the one who got Kaz, the one who he wanted by his side and maybe one day on his arm, donning his ring on her left hand. Not y/n.

Y/n had finally learned her lesson, but in the most painful way possible. Instead of walking out when she first started getting mixed signals from Kaz, she’d stuck it out. She held out thinking he was the one. Thinking she’d be the one to be able to get through to him. But she wasn’t.

Y/n learned the hard way that she wasn’t the exception, Inej was. And somehow, y/n now had to act as if her foolish heart hadn’t ever lead her astray. That she never had fallen for her friend and boss. That she never once believed her wishful thinking was anything more than that. Y/n cared deeply for Inej and so, she’d have to keep these painful lessons to herself.

Epilogue:

“Oh,” Jesper sighed heavily, sharing a knowing look with Wylan. He frowned and slid out of his boyfriend’s embrace as he slowly made his way to y/n’s broken form. Jesper slid his back down the wall to the left of y/n, resting his head in her shoulder.

Wylan gazed lovingly at Jesper for a moment before joining him and y/n. He sat on the other side of y/n, in front of her door. “Are you okay?” He asked rhetorically. It was obvious from her red eyes, tangled hair, and chapped lips that she was wanting but okay. Yet, Wylan didn’t know how else to see if she was okay talking about it without making it worse. He suspected mentioning Kaz would only drive the knife in further.

“I’m so….,” y/n whimpered, pinching the bridge of her nose. She sniffled and shook her head. “How could I not see the signs?” Y/n whined again. “I actually let myself be foolish enough to think that one day…,” she trailed off as more tears left her eyes.

Jesper sighed sympathetically, intertwining y/n’s fingers with his own. “He doesn’t deserve you,” He declared. “It’s not foolish to want someone to shout from the rooftop their feelings for you,” Jesper encouraged, “he just isn’t the one.”

“Or,” y/n’s voice cracked, “maybe I… maybe it was wishful thinking to believe I would ever earn someone’s confessions of love”. She wiped her wet face on the fabric covering her shoulder since both boys were holding one of her hands.

“The day is gonna come for your confessions of love,” Wylan encouraged with a sweet smile. “Don’t give up hope just because he wasn’t the one,” he added quietly.

Jesper smiled at Wylan and nodded in agreement. “Exactly!” He exclaimed, tenderly nudging y/n’s shoulder. “When all is said and done, he just wasn't the one,” Jesper told her.

Y/n nodded quietly. She appreciated what her friends were trying to do, but she could still feel her heart breaking. They weren’t wrong, Kaz wasn’t the one, not for her anyways. That much y/n had learned the hard way. But, it didn’t erase the pain in her chest and the self blame echoing in her mind. Hopefully time would.

Taglist: @dil3mma @directioner5life @ell0ra-br3kk3r @b3kk3r-by-br3kk3r @winstonthecow22 @alex-kazbrekkersimp @wolfmoonmusic @phoenix666stuff @kentucky-criedfricken @twlegit @valeridarkness @shara-ne @crazyhearttragedy @opheliaofficial07 @historynerd77 @missdreamofendless @nikfigueiredo @el-de-phi

Kaz Brekker Navigation

Six of Crows Navigation

Grishaverse Navigation

Book Boyfriends Navigation

Freddy Carter Navigation

My Main Masterlist (All My Works) Navigation

177 notes · View notes

foolishlovers · 5 months

Text

WIP Wednesday Good Omens Recs

let's spread some love and share some wips this wednesday. writing can be hard and lonely sometimes, so let's hit the kudos button and post a comment or two on some ongoing fics today!

#gonna reblog with some of my recs in a sec #feel free to add yours!!#i know wips aren't everyone's thing and that's okay!! but if u do feel up for reading them in general #then i really wanna encourage u to talk about them!! nothing better than encouragement and love on your own ongoing projects!!#good omens #good omens fic rec #good omens fanfiction #good omens fics #aziraphale x crowley #crowley x aziraphale #aziracrow #go fanfic #ineffable husbands #ineffable spouses #foolish recs

491 notes · View notes

seriouslycalamitous · 9 months

Text

Hello! I want to get more active in the QSMP Tumblr community! I’m the author of currently four QSMP fics:

Somewhere Only We Know - Fooligetta War AU where Foolish and Vegetta learn to navigate the language barrier through a lull in the battles, written alongside my good friend IndulgenceofDelusion (Antistalgic) - 20k+ words - 3/? Chapters - English

as if they’ll never end - Fooligetta Babysitter AU where Foolish takes care of Leonarda and slowly falls in love with her father along the way, also written alongside Antistalgic (Vegetta’s POV is in the works) - 15k words - 1/1 Chapter - English

that’s the deal, my dear - Guapoduo cat AU where Cellbit gets transformed into a cat and must do his best to comfort Roier without his thumbs - 7k Words - 1/1 Chapter - English

eres seguro con mi - A Zombie AU where Phil stumbles across a bunch of children immune to the outbreak - 6k Words - 1/2 Chapters - English

If you’re interested, I’d love for you guys to check them out! I’m still learning how to use Tumblr, but if you have any questions you’d like to ask, I’d be happy to answer them!

#qsmp fanfic #qsmp fanfiction #qsmp eggs #qsmp foolish #qsmp vegetta #fooligetta #guapoduo #qsmp philza #qsmp roier #qsmp cellbit

152 notes · View notes

remediesremedy · 11 months

Note

Cannnnn I get some punz and foolish domming reader into subspace? Like maybe punz being a hard dom and degrading you saying you’re such a slut for wanting both of em while foolish being a soft dom calling you pretty and telling you’re taking them both so well?

Preferably afab!sub!reader, and then soft aftercare<3

of course i can write something like this :D just a reminder that i write mainly for lgbtqia+ readers, because they don’t get a lot of content when it comes to fanfics or writing.

so just a message that you won’t get a lot of cis women fanfics LMAO.

now on with the request <3

AFAB READER, no pronouns used

content warnings: breeding kink, degrading, praise, humiliation kink

living with punz and foolish wasnt difficult, for the most part they were clean, maybe not on days where exhaustion hit them like a tonne of bricks. but mostly, they were good roommates. it had made sense at the time to move in with them, with not a single clue of what you were going to do in the future, you figured staying with your closest friends was a blessing.

and it was. them being streamers was of little interest to you, it was a cool job, but you let them get on with it. suddenly paying more attention when you’d be denied to pay for things, being spoilt by the two men, just because they could. and you couldn’t deny that their attention on you felt good. Moving in with your closest friends was a good idea, until it wasn’t. until you really looked at the two men, now hyper focusing on their lips, their arms, their thighs, their hair and eyes. it seemed your attraction to them burst from a hidden chamber.

you were in awe of them, and that was especially hard to hide from your close friends. you trudged on, trying to ignore the fluttering feeling in your gut, and the blistering heat between your legs at seeing foolish work out, or punz groan in frustration. after some time of drawing away from them, they caught on quickly, noticing your absence and lack of presence quicker than you’d have liked.

they offered a movie night, saying that everyone had been busy lately. it was hard to say no, but you managed to reject their proposal, until you were almost dragged out of your room, arriving to see a couch filled with blankets and an expect punz watching you. “we’ve missed you, c’mon, just one movie.” foolish egged you on, tugging your arm and waiting for you to make a decision.

with a gulp, you sat down, inbetween the two boys. they had to make everything difficult didn’t they? suddenly they felt like the most awful roommates of all time, forcing you to watch a movie while sandwiched between the both of their hot bodies.

you tried, you really did, to set your gaze on the television, to loosely follow the plot of the film. but the sight of punz’ hands, his thick fingers curled up into his lap, it drove you crazy inside. without trying, your brain buzzed, drunk off of them. you attempted to inhale slowly, your eyes catching onto the muscle adorning foolish’s arms, these two were epitomes of radiant.

the movie became white noise, a gentle thrumming of static as euphoric thoughts danced around your head. imagining them splitting you open, making you dumb and greedy, so fucked out that your mouth would be covered in spit, and eyes glossed over. you thought of how they would fit, their lengths, their girths, would they stuff you full of cum? at this point, there was no movie, there was no one apart from you and your sinful desires. your brain acted without thinking, the ache in your cunt becoming almost unbearable, a fire that needed to be extinguished, you reached down and pressed down, grinding against your hand for a second before catching your bearings. your head snapped up when you heard foolish and punz’ breath hitch, it was too late. “i, i had an itch sorry.” it was a poor excuse, wouldve been hilarious in any other situation.

their eyes were fixated on your hand, which was now covered in slick. you had soaked through your shorts, the heat of their gaze was intense, and you began to move, wanting to bolt upstairs. “let me help, you might not be able to reach.” foolish spoke, offering you his hand, “go on, show me where that itch is.” his lips quirked up, and you fought the cry that wanted to fly out, his teasing was making this harder.

“i actually think this is a two person job.” punz hummed, shifting off the couch so he was kneeling on the floor. he met your eyes, and with a hesitant nod from you, he sunk his fingers into your plush thighs, practically ripping the shorts you had on. both men scoffed lightheartedly at the sight of no underwear. Punz sinfully locked eyes with you, looking innocent as he prodded at your weeping hole. two fingers breached you, their thickness delicious and painful, as they sunk deeper, you tried to not bounce on them. felt so good. finally getting fucked by these two. while Punz stretched you out perfectly, foolish swiftly joined in, opting to circle your clit with his middle finger. the bud was enlarged, begging to be stimulated.

“fucking slut, wearing nothing under those shorts.” punz laughed degradingly, delivering a light slap to your pussy, he scissored his fingers expertly, feeding that fire in your stomach. fuck, you wanted everything he had to offer. he pulled out slowly, letting you feel every piece of his digits disappear. “is that why you can’t be around us?”

the question was met with silence, as you ashamedly looked away. it startled you when a more gentle hand gripped your jaw, “c’mon, you can tell us.”

with a whine you opened your mouth. “you spoil me, you treat me so well, kept thinking, kept thinking you could treat me well in other ways.” tears welled up in your eyes but foolish’s thumbs went to wipe them away.

“shhh shh, the only time you’ll be crying those pretty tears is when we’re done with you.” foolish cooed, fingers now reaching to reside in your hair, he softly played with your curls, not even noticing punz having undone his belt buckle.

a slap sounding alarmed you, turning your attention from foolish, punz had pulled down his pants and boxers, his thick cock slapping against his stomach. his tip was flush with blood, pink and throbbing, he seemed as desperate as you. “couldn’t just have one of us huh? had to have two.” he tutted, shifting to move your legs higher, so he could bully into your cunt. “we’ll give the greedy whore what they want.”

foolish flashed a glare at punz, “don’t listen to him, you’re so good for taking us.” punz slapped his tip over your clit, watching you cry out, his upturned lips were full of smugness. he wanted to claim you, in every way that he could. fill you and cover you in red hot cum, leave bite marks and bruises of his fingertips. with a sigh, punz slipped into your wet contracting hole, so warm, so slick, so inviting. his pace was brutal once he had a taste, burrowing into you like he would die if he didn’t. your body burned up, it was too hot, too good. “wish i knew you wanted us sooner.” foolish murmured through the loud thrusts and cries, his lips captured yours, soft and gentle as he invaded every part of your mouth. you were addicted to him.

“please, please spit in my mouth.” you whispered between kisses, not knowing what to do with the onslaught of pleasure from being fucked brutally and being kissed softly. Foolish was hesitant, but with a quick double take, he hollowed his cheeks, and forced your mouth open. his warm spit fell on your tongue and coated it. between the glob of spit lathering your mouth, and the cock drilling into you, the coil in your stomach begin to unwind. you couldn’t even move as punz continued his powerful thrusts, his hips snapping in a consistent rhythm on a mission to make you break.

“is this good enough for you yet slut? desperate for not one, but two cocks?” he sneered, burying himself in as his ruts became sloppier, but harder. the coil tightened, the fire grew, the flames lapped at your whole body, and you gave in to the overwhelming heat. the coil snapped, or may have melted, and electric pleasure shot through you. you felt foolish roughly rub down on your clit, heaven was in what felt like arm’s reach. it was too good, too addicting. the itch in your clit was scratched deliciously, and your body spasmed as your high came to its peak, and punz began stuttering his movements. without warning, thick hot cum was pumped into you, and instinctively you wrapped your legs around his back to push him deeper and keep his seed in. his groan sent shivers down your spine.

without knowing, you had passed out, sleeping straight after you had came. when your eyes had fluttered open, you were in your room, two warm bodies on either side of you, and you were in comfy clothes, mostly clean. with a throbbing heart, you pressed a kiss to each man’s cheek, in their sleep they still reacted, squeezing you more between them, forcing you to cuddle into them.

they were good roommates.

#imagines #x reader #fluff #smut #mcyt #mcyt x reader #mcyt fanfiction #mcyt smut #punz imagine #punz #punz smut #dsmp punz #foolish x reader #foolish gamers #foolish dsmp #mcyt foolish #foolish smut

285 notes · View notes