#FOOLS

[peachu-0]

My entry’s for the #jawboneplush contest!

I love making silly stupid things :3

Start of the video by @dingodoodles on YouTube

[glamangel3766]

My favorite ship dynamic is whatever these two gay idiots have going on

[dreaded-jabot]

Narumitsu Week Day 1 - Firsts

[cowboygideon]

So insane reading about Kev's skills from the perspective of someone who'd played with him before his hand was broken. Like yes Neil was obsessed with him and yes he knew he played differently with his right than his left—but reading it from JEAN'S perspective?? Life changing stuff. When he said the Ravens' defense forgot what Kev was like before he switched hands? I lost my mind.

[zeizeizeizei]

Idiots.

Zeb (from across the room, approaching):

"You been sleepin’ alright?"

(Kallus glances up from the datapad in his hands, surprised by the question—but not unpleasantly so.)

Kallus (a little guarded, but his voice is warmer than it used to be):

"Trying to. Still getting used to the quiet, I suppose."

Zeb (grins):

"Yeah, well... the Ghost hums, but she don’t scream orders at you.

Give it a few nights."

(Kallus almost smiles at that, shaking his head faintly.)

Kallus:

"That’s oddly comforting."

(A pause. Then—casual, but with intent—Zeb walks closer, leans against the edge of the table.)

Zeb:

"Y'know... 'Agent Kallus' always felt too stiff for you. What do your friends call you?"

Kallus (blinks, then hesitates):

"...I don’t really—"

(And then Zeb, looking at him through his lashes, cuts in gently.)

Zeb:

"Aleksandr... Aleksandr... Alex."

(Kallus stiffens slightly—like the word reached deeper than expected.)

Kallus (quietly):

"How did you—?"

Zeb (grinning, softer now):

"I looked it up before..."

(Kallus looks down, lips parting slightly. A breath escapes him that sounds like surprise. Maybe relief. Maybe something he’s not ready to name.)

Kallus (murmuring):

"...No one's called me that in a long time."

Zeb:

"Should I stop?"

Kallus (his eyes finally meet Zeb’s again—there’s something raw there, but not closed-off):

"...No. It’s alright. Just… unexpected."

(Zeb leans in a little, voice dropping, a teasing glint in his eye—though his tone stays gentle.)

Zeb:

"You blush every time I say it?"

Kallus (raising an eyebrow, deadpan):

"I do not."

Zeb (laughs):

"You do. It’s cute."

(Kallus actually laughs then—quiet, real—and Zeb watches that laugh like it’s something rare.)

Kallus:

"You’re incorrigible."

Zeb (tilting his head, cocky smile):

"And you like it."

[xichilie]

A Fool’s Devotion

Brant x (fem) reader

If there was one thing everyone in the Troupe of Fools could agree on, it was this: Brant was absolutely, hopelessly in love.

It wasn’t a quiet sort of love, either. It was loud, dramatic, and unmistakably Brant.

From the way his eyes lit up whenever Y/N entered the room to the way he miraculously always found a reason to be near her, it was painfully obvious to everyone—except to Y/N herself.

At first, the crew found it amusing. Then, it became routine. And now? Now it was downright agonizing to witness.

Exhibit A: The Grand Gesture

It started during one of their rehearsals. The Troupe was preparing a new performance, and Brant, ever the star, was demonstrating a particularly daring sword routine—one that involved acrobatics, expertly timed pyrotechnics, and an absurd amount of flair.

"Observe!" Brant declared, flipping his Fusion Sword between his hands. "A display of passion! A tale of devotion! The perfect act to win the heart of—"

He froze.

Everyone waited.

Y/N tilted her head, confused. "Win the heart of who?"

Brant blinked. Then, in the most obvious and suspicious way possible, he dramatically twirled away and pointed at Andreas instead.

"Why, the audience, of course!" he recovered smoothly, flashing a dazzling grin. "What is a performance if not a heartfelt confession to those who witness it?"

Roccia, standing off to the side, let out a small sigh, shaking her head as she adjusted the props. Mosi covered his mouth to hide his smirk. Barton muttered something under his breath about secondhand embarrassment.

Meanwhile, Y/N simply nodded. "That makes sense."

It did not make sense.

Everyone groaned.

Exhibit B: The Unnecessary Rescues

Brant was protective of his crew, sure, but when it came to Y/N, he was downright ridiculous.

Take last week, for example.

The Troupe had been setting up their performance area in the hideout, moving heavy crates filled with props and stage pieces. Y/N, more than capable, had been carrying a wooden set piece when Brant suddenly appeared, flipping over a table with unnecessary flair to reach her.

"Fear not, fair Y/N!" he declared, taking the set piece from her arms with a flourish. "A delicate soul such as yours should never be burdened with such labor!"

Y/N blinked. "...Brant, I carry a sword for a living."

"Ah, yes, but lifting a weapon and lifting the burdens of life are two entirely different struggles!" He struck a dramatic pose, balancing the set piece on one hand like it was nothing. "Allow me to bear them for you!"

Y/N, still oblivious, merely shrugged. "Well, if you insist. Thanks, Captain!"

The rest of the crew, watching from a distance, exchanged looks of sheer disbelief.

"Does he realize she’s been carrying heavier stuff than that all week?" Barton muttered.

"Nope," Andreas replied, taking a sip of his drink.

"Should we tell her?"

Mosi snorted. "And ruin the show? Absolutely not."

Exhibit C: The ‘Totally Normal’ Compliments

Brant had never been shy about using flowery language, but his compliments to Y/N were starting to sound less like casual praise and more like wedding vows.

"Y/N, the way you wield your blade is a masterpiece, a performance of elegance and strength unparalleled!"

"Truly, there is no presence in this world that could rival yours—you are the very star that guides this humble captain’s way!"

"Your mere existence makes the air itself feel lighter, as though even gravity itself bows in your presence!"

"Thanks, Brant," Y/N would reply, completely unfazed. "That’s really nice of you to say."

Meanwhile, Riel—the newest member of the Troupe—had started keeping a tally of Brant’s more excessive declarations. "That’s the third one today," he whispered to Dionysia.

"You should’ve been here yesterday," she replied. "He compared her to a goddess descending from the heavens."

"And she still didn’t notice?"

"Not even a little."

Riel glanced over at Brant, who was now attempting (and failing) to act normal while Y/N adjusted the straps of her sword belt. The Captain’s gaze lingered on her just a second too long before he dramatically turned away, pretending to be deeply interested in adjusting his coat.

Riel shook his head. This is going to take forever.

Exhibit D: The Unwavering Attention

Brant could be in the middle of a sword fight, dodging fireballs, or escaping certain death—and he would still be able to pick out Y/N’s voice in a crowd.

"Brant, behind you!"

Instantly, he moved. Not because of the warning, but because it was her voice.

"Brant, are you listening?"

Always.

"Brant, do you need help?"

Only if she was the one offering it.

And yet… for all the times Y/N had caught his attention, she never seemed to realize why.

Even when his head snapped toward her the second she laughed.

Even when he always found a way to stand next to her during meetings.

Even when he unconsciously reached for her hand to steady her, only to pretend it was accidental.

And especially when his usual theatrics softened just the slightest bit whenever she was the one watching.

Everyone saw it.

Everyone knew.

Everyone except Y/N.

The Breaking Point

One day, after yet another painfully obvious display of Brant’s affection, Roccia—who rarely spoke unless necessary—finally set down her tools, took a deep breath, and turned to the rest of the Troupe.

"We need to do something."

There was a moment of silence.

Then, Mosi exhaled loudly. "Thank you."

"Yes," Andreas agreed. "For all our sanity, this needs to end."

Barton cracked his knuckles. "Do we drop hints?"

"Subtle ones?" Dionysia asked.

Riel sighed. "At this point? We might have to spell it out for her."

The crew exchanged glances, a silent agreement passing between them.

One way or another, they were going to make sure Y/N finally realized that Brant was head over heels for her.

Even if it meant forcing their dramatic captain to confess himself.

To Be Continued…?

____________

I'm gonna be honest I don't remember his crew, so it might not be accurate.

But please, I need more brant content 🥹

[palatinewolfsblog]

“It's easier to fool people than to convince them that they have been fooled.” - Mark Twain

[perfectquote]

I am tired of this place. I hope people change.

Fools, “Troye Sivan Cover”

[peachu-0]

More sands doodles! (Also a sands oc meme hehe)

Fools Gold Sands by @dingodoodles

GO LISTEN TO IT RAAAAHHH!!

[thesaart]

Jester

[resqectable]

I am tired of this place. I hope people change.

Fools, “Troye Sivan Cover”

[quotefeeling]

I am tired of this place. I hope people change.

Fools, “Troye Sivan Cover”

[thirdity]

A clown is a poet in action. He is the story which he enacts. It is the same story over and over — adoration, devotion, crucifixion.

Henry Miller, The Smile at the Foot of the Ladder

[bunny--bun---o-o]

"The tiredness after a caffeine rush..."

I hate this drawing >:[

But say cheese!