qtlibehsun - Tumblr blog

[qtlibehsun]

imprisonment [part one]

pairing: quackity x gn!reader [angst]

summary: your boyfriend is a criminal, you had no idea, and now he’s being thrown in prison

warnings: cursing, physical violence against reader and quackity

word count: 1.2k

a.n: hi everyone! i’m back again lol. i’ve been feeling really unmotivated lately and i haven’t been liking what i’ve been posting lately but i wanted to get something out, so here it is ig. not very good but it sets up for the next two parts. hope you like it :)

The sun was quite possibly in the worst place, you had concluded. No matter whether you crouched to tend to the crops or stand to stretch your cramping knees, it was right there. Right, fucking, there.

You audibly groaned and decided to give the carrots you were watering a break, situating yourself on a stool, as you increasingly became interested in the volume of rich soil under your fingernails.

Your thoughts were invaded with him.

When was he coming home?

Was he okay? God I miss him.

You missed his warmth, his smile, his laugh. His stupid hats.

However it had only been since this morning, when you sent him off with a chaste kiss on the cheek, him retorting with ‘that’s not a proper kiss,.’ You couldn’t help but let the heaviness in your heart from longing consume you and leave a wretchedness in your day.

You retired into the comfort of your shared cabin, the evening breeze slowly becoming too chill for your liking. You occupied yourself with chopping a collection of vegetables for a soup, whilst fantasising that he was just upstairs in your room. A noxious habit bred from detachment issues perhaps, but one that left your lover with a gleaming smile and a swell in his heart.

You were interrupted from your love hankering thoughts to the door being thrown open, cabin rattling.

You nearly squealed from excitement, he was home, but you kept your cool and focused on the task at hand.

Cutting those carrots paysanne style.

Two slender arms wrapped around your middle; a gathering of kisses being placed against your neck.

“Hey, my love,” he had mumbled, voice croaky with exhaustion.

“Hey Alex.” You turned to place your lips against his, the butterflies that erupted never ceasing to fade, only persistently growing with each new time your lips met.

He bounced on the balls of his feet, bringing you with him. “What are we chowing on tonight?”

“Just soup. I could barely get any work done in the garden today. My mind was just so preoccupied with things. Had me zoning out without even realising.” A laugh rumbled against your back, Alex nuzzling his nose into the corner where your neck met your shoulder.

“It’s because you missed my handsome face, isn’t it?”

“No way!” Yes way.

It took you longer to wipe down the table after dinner concluded then it did to cook the actual meal. Alex insisting that he held your hand during the entirety of your meal never got old, but it did make it increasingly difficult to eat with one hand.

After blowing out the candle, you slid into your shared bed, the pastel-yellow winged man instantaneously taking position as big spoon. You wished him goodnight, as he responded with a ‘goodnight mi vida.’

And just like that your consciousness had slipped from you, chest blooming with love and admiration for the man placed behind you.

It was almost terrifying, to the two of you. Just how in love you were with each other. Your world was in the palm of his hands, one inch of movement or pressure, and destruction could occur. However, the intense brown of his eyes, and the sparkle they held, was worth the risk of any merciless, bad phenomenon happening two your relationship.

However, you were not prepared for this.

No. Nothing could prepare you for what was about to happen.

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

Alex awoke to your scream.

Your bloodcurdling scream of pain followed by a smash that sounded like glass.

Springing out of bed, clothes dishevelled and not even stopping to put a hat on his head, he bounded for the stairs, adrenalin pumping in his head, making him dizzy from fear.

What had got to you? Who found you?

He jumped the last few stairs and was immediately met with two masked men, standing over your crumpled body on the floor, blood gushing from a new wound settled in your hairline.

Swathed with rage Alex stormed over and punched one of the men in the face. Nonetheless both individuals were considerably taller than him, taking him to the ground, hands behind his back.

“Hey what’re you doing with them?” Keep your fucking hands off the-,”

A sharp searing pain in his cheek, a split in the skin from a now blood coated ring caused his sentence to stop.

Alex went to wriggle out of their grasp, to escape and bring you into his arms. To wipe away the tears away and hold you forever. Whisper to you how he would never ever let anything, or anybody hurt you again.

Oh, how those words would do nothing.

“Beat him till he loses conscious,” A man with a low, monotone voice ordered.  

“Wait no!” You had screamed but it was futile.

Blow after blow had Alex grunting and groaning in pain. Black particles had started to swarm his vision but all he could think about was you.

Please don’t hurt them. Leave them alone. They did nothing. You want me. Me. Not Them. Leave them please, I love them.

“Fucking hell it’s not working, just break his fucking wings.” White hot searing pain erupted from the two wings on his back. He screeched and cried with every twist and crack he felt in them.

“God please no stop! I’m sorry please! Fucking fuckers please god get the fuck off me.” He swung and wriggled through every last ounce of strength he had, but it wasn’t enough. The darkness slowly began to engulf him, his limbs heavy, and with one last whisper of your name he slipped into the abyss.

Please let them be okay. I’ll do anything. Please.

You felt like your voice was going to give out. The pain settling at the top of your forehead turned into a dull ache from the over-bearing agony you felt emotionally as you saw your lover. So tranquil on the floor, eyelids shut, his back rising with unsteady breaths. Two daffodil wings bent at uneven angles, feathers hanging by string to the bone, scattered on the floor.

“What did he do? Why did you do that?”

The taller of the two turned to you, fists caked with your boyfriend’s blood.

“Quackity will be thrown in prison at dawn tomorrow for the crimes he has committed against this land.”

A lump lurched in your throat. He hadn’t done anything. Had he?

The man picked up on your confused state and barely answered your unspoken question.

“Your boyfriend here has been caught with a multitude of delinquencies that will serve him a life in jail.”

“Like what?” You had snapped.

“Drug dealing. Identity theft. Attempted murder.”

Had that been why he never brought you into town with him? He was a criminal.

Sensing your steps towards Alex the two men picked him up and shoved you back onto the floor.

“If you have half a brain you’ll stay here. We’ll deal from him from now on.”

And with that you let them take him away, the door slamming like it had later last night when he come home.

And as the dawns sun peaked through the slightly ajar curtains you whispered under your breath.

I’ll see you again, my love.

[qtlibehsun]

rules

1. gender - i have no issue with writing the reader as a nonbinary character, so everyone can read it, i am currently working on doing some fics with that style now. however, i will not do male x male for streamers who have specifically stated they are straight and are uncomfortable with being shipped with male individuals. just like how i don't think anyone would write a female x james charles fic, it just doesn't work like that. respect EVERYONE's sexuality :)

2. mental health / self-harm / suicide etc. - once again i have no issue with writing fics that revolve around this topic, as i understand that people who are dealing with these things sometimes seek out this genre of fics as a comfort or support pillar. however i don't feel comfortable with going into extreme detail with these, as i try to put my best writing forward, and i don't want to seem insensitive at all or put forward something that may cause a relapse, or may offend someone. (detail as in explaining how someone were to commit suicide hypothetically)

3. smut / sexual stuff - writing sexual stuff for creators who have specified they don't mind being sexualized also doesn't bother me, however, id feel quite uncomfortable writing it and putting it forward on my platform. i like to write a shit load of angst and i just find that the sexual smutty stuff would clash with my works. that being said, i am comfortable to imply and do it in small sections, just whole smut fics are off the table.

[qtlibehsun]

current works in progress

NOTICE: IF YOU FEEL AS THOUGH YOUR REQUEST IS NOT HERE THAT MEANS EITHER I DID NOT RECEIVE IT OR TUMBLR ATE IT. FEEL FREE TO RESEND IT :)

DREAM:

Distraction: After feeling helpless with not being able to protect their younger brother Tubbo, Dream makes it his personal mission to distract the love of his life, you. To what length will he go to make their mind waver from their catatonic state?

I want to be yours: George is angered once he realises Clay’s true feelings for his now partner, and decides to confront him - Part two of why can’t you be mine? 

Never be mine: Clay is shocked when his door rings one morning, and he finds you standing there - Part three of why can’t you be mine?

Immobile: Dream finds himself in utter despair when he can’t protect you on the battlefield, and you’re left with fatal wounds. 

Worthless: In trying to get a point across to Tommy, Dream says some things he doesn’t mean, but breaks a few hearts in the process.

Who do you miss the most?: Dream is angered by Tommy when he visits him in prison and asks him who he misses the most. 

GEORGENOTFOUND:

Untitled Fic:  AU Reader x George - Harry Potter 

QUACKITY  

Imprisonment Part Two: Technoblade visits Quackity in prison with some heart shattering news about his lover. 

Imprisonment Part Three: Quackity is released from jail, and everything he thought he knew, was wrong. 

[qtlibehsun]

dream smp imagines masterlist

Dream

↣ why can’t you be mine?   

GeorgeNotFound

↣ too much but too late      

Sapnap

[not completed yet]

Wilbur

[not completed yet]

Quackity

↣ imprisonment [part one]

Karl Jacobs

[not completed yet]

Eret

[not completed yet]

[qtlibehsun]

Hi! I dont mean to be annoying but just wanted to know if you got my last ask about writing for the smp characters. If not dont worry i know tumblr can be weird. Hope youre having a good day!❤

hi yes tumblr can be so random at times! dw yes i got ur ask and i love writing for the smp characters more than them in real life - i find it’s more fun, easier to write and manipulate, stuff like that. please request smp characters it’ll make my day aha! promise more stuff is coming soon!

[qtlibehsun]

holy. fucking. shit. I JUST READ YOUR GEORGE ANGSTA ND ITS SO GOOD💕💕 BUT OH MY GOD DOES IT HURT ME😭

thank you so much! i love writing things that just destroy me :)

[qtlibehsun]

too much but too late

pairing: georgenotfound x f!reader [angst]

summary: your wedding day was meant to be the best day of your life, but unfortunately for you a certain man by the name of George ruins it

warnings: lots of cursing, alcohol, mentions of a sexy time, vomit

word count: 2.1k

a.n: hello everyone! i am back! with more angst cause i literally love writing it so damn much. thank you so much for the great feedback from my last post, made me very happy to see majority of you all like it. i promise more works will be published soon since i currently have nothing to do with my life - please feel free to send through requests i love looking at them and i get excited to write them! and now onto the request... i made it super dramatic LOL

You had dreamed of this day for years. Dreamed of it when you were learning to tie your shoelaces, learning to ride a bike, learning how to write. The particular day? The day of your wedding. A day where you were adorned in a pristine white gown, hair immaculate, the tears of joy in your parents faces as they told you how proud they were of you for finding such a partner.

It resulted in your heart sprinting, your hands shaking, and a series of bouncing on the balls of your feet as you squealed alongside your best friends. You were utterly and undeniably ecstatic.

So why couldn’t he be happy for you.

Maybe it was the fact you two were best friends. Maybe it was the countless times you played video games together, joined with discord calls that lasted for over five hours. Maybe it was the fact you two were best friends. Best friends since birth perhaps. The way that almost every day for the past twenty-four years of his life was spent with you.  

Or maybe it was because of that one night on your 18th birthday. Where alcohol poisoned both your systems and blinded your reality. That one night where you went back to his place, and he proceeded to gently touch and love every part of you. That one night where your shadows danced together in harmonious ways to the music of the crickets.

He knew for sure he couldn’t be happy for you because he loved you, copious amounts.

He would never forget the tear you ripped in his heart as you woke up beside him, eyes glossy, a strain in your voice as you told him word’s he never wanted to hear.

I’m sorry George, but it was a mistake. It never should’ve happened. I don’t like you like that.

God, it haunted him.

It was a mistake.

It never should’ve happened.

She doesn’t like you like that.

A mistake.

He wanted to disappear. Disappear to a time before then, where some nights he’d hold you close to his chest and wish upon empty stars that you were his more than platonically. However, no matter what he did, where he went, the images of your face, contorted in pleasure underneath him were stuck like glue in the back of his eyelids, and the whisper of his name that sounded like bells played persistently in his mind. He could not escape you.

And he wanted to disappear now more than ever. To withdraw from a day that made you so happy.

He looked so handsome. A crisp suit, a straight tie, hair fluffy as usual but more styled. However, his eyes were red and sunken, slight stubble on his chin, and a watery gaze that was not there from joy. He looked like a broken glass masterpiece kept together by masking tape.

And when you appeared at the end of aisle, fuck. He wanted to scream from how stunning you were. A complete replica of the most charming painting he’d ever laid eyes on.

There were gasps and murmurs from friends and family that surrounded him, but they fell upon deaf ears. He could not concentrate. And when you made eye contact with him, he wanted to throw up, for he had never been so utterly devastated in his entire life.

Because the man you were marrying was not him.

Your smile, your beauty, your kindness, your everything was not for him. It was the other man that stood at the other end of the room. Hands clasped, emotion swelling with pride. Then again why wouldn’t it, you were his wife to be.

Not George’s.

And when the priest announced speak now or forever hold your peace, he wanted to so bad. His knees jumped with anticipation, the raging urge to yell that he loved you, and you didn’t belong with this man, you belonged with him. But he couldn’t. Because he loved you. And what kind of man would he be to ruin a day you had been looking forward to for so long.

And the kiss. Your first kiss as a married woman. It made his fists clench and heart skip. He wanted nothing more than to have your lips locked with his in that moment.

Your mother in her burst of joy turned around in her seat and grabbed George by his collar, pushing him into the tightest embrace of his life, her face wet, leaving a damp section on his jacket.

“Aren’t you so proud! Our beautiful girl is all grown up!” She squeaked.

All he could do was force out a tight-lipped smile and nod his head that caused his brain to throb. She wasn’t his girl, she was someone else’s.

He shouldn’t have come.

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

The expensive bourbon burned his eyes almost as much as his throat. He had had way too much to drink. Far too much for his best friend’s wedding day. His jacket had been forgotten, hung to the back of his chair, sleeves rolled, and tie loosened. He probably would’ve been picked up by a single lady if he didn’t look so miserable. George stayed seated, gaze hardened on the inside of his empty glass as everyone watched you and your husband dance. He refused to watch the smile of joy graced upon your face when you danced with him.

God why were you so fucking beautiful.

A man with fluffy hair and eyes as blue as the ocean however had spotted the dejected man. He sat down with a huff next to him.

“Hey George.” “Hey Karl.”

“What’s up with ya’ buddy? Why you so down.” Karl asked as he wrapped an arm around the back of George’s chair, scooting closer. The brunette just shrugged.

“She looks beautiful, doesn’t she?” He pried, trying to get any response out of the British man.

For the first time since you started dancing George looked at you. Head thrown back in laughter; eyes crinkled at the corner. He had always made fun of you for that.

What had he done wrong? He must’ve done something for God to punish him so cruelly. He shouldn’t have made fun of the wrinkles in your eyes, they were beautiful. He shouldn’t have put the chewed-up gum in your hair, he just wanted your attention. He should’ve remembered your fourteenth birthday party. Why did he have to go off with that other stupid girl he met. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

He felt so fucking stupid.

All the reasons as to why you weren’t his flew threw his head, making him so overwhelmed he thought as though if he were to stand up, he would fall back on his arse again.

“Try not to think about it George, its done now, nothing you can do,” and with that Karl stood up to join the rest of the guests, now dispersing to sit back down or join the two newlyweds for a dance.

That was it. He had to get out of there. Karl’s words had struck a nerve him in. Although drunk and clearly not thinking straight he was right. There was nothing he could do. So why was he still here?

Shooting up and grabbing his jacket George made a swift bolt to the exit of the reception.

Unfortunately for him, you saw your best friend leaving, and with a quick kiss on the cheek and a I’ll be right back, you left your husband by himself and ran after your best friend.

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

He heard you call his name in the deserted hallway and was almost tempted to break out in a sprint. He couldn’t talk to you. He loved you like you were a drug. So bad for him but yet he was so addicted. So, against his better judgement he turned around to face you.

“Where are you going?” You asked, cheerfulness dripping in your tone. You clearly didn’t catch on to his deprived state, you were too far away.

“I’m going home.”

Your smile dropped. “Oh, why?”

It was too late now. The alcohol in his system was blinding, and although his brain was screaming at him to turn around, don’t ruin her night, his heart was screaming tell her you love her, make her yours, it’s not too late, Karl was wrong. And detrimentally, for him he went with the latter.

Before you could even comprehend what was happening, he strode forward, grabbed your face ferociously and went in for a kiss. But before George could feel the sweetness of your lips on his once again you pushed him away, two hard hands on his chest causing him too stumble.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” You screamed, fury circling your body and resounding your reality. It was now when you were face to face with him you smelt the repulsive hard liquor on his breath. You noticed his red rimmed eyes and the smattering of stubble he wore. He looked almost sick.

“Y/N, Y/N, Y/N fuck please I’m sorry,” he whined, words slurring together. He was so drunk.

“Why did you do that? What evil thing literally possessed you to try and kiss me? And on my wedding night you sick bastard.” You were so frustrated and disappointed in your best friend you started to cry.

George was so desperate. You were standing so close to him, looking so beautiful, smelling heavenly. But now you were crying, and your perfect makeup was dripping in flawed lines down your face.

Oh no, he thought to himself. I caused that. Let me fix it.

He reached out to wipe away your tears, but you only pushed him away again. He choked on a sob that was threatening to leave so fast. You were breaking his heart so quickly. Why did he do that, he shouldn’t have done that.

“George why?” You whispered to him, wiping away your own tears. “Why?”

“Because it wasn’t a mistake for me Y/N. It wasn’t.” You stood there quietly, paralysed with shock at the information that thudded your heart. He took it as an invitation to continue speaking.

“For as long as I can remember Y/N I have been wholly and devotedly in love with you. Holy fuck you fucking kill me. And not just because of the night we shared on your 18th birthday, but every other night. Where I got to hold you in my arms, and just pretend that for a second that you were mine. Mine to hold, to kiss, to protect, to love.”

He almost seemed sober from the passion that leaked through his words.

“And I understand you love this man, I mean why else would you be marrying him, but fuck I can’t lie anymore. I can’t sit here and pretend that I didn’t wish that man was me. What did I do wrong?” Now he was seriously crying. “Why was I not good enough for you darling? I did everything for you.”

You were flustered and pissed and crying so much you could only sob out a small “cause I’m just not in love with you George. I never was and I don’t think I ever will be.”

George became overrun with jealousy and rage, the bourbon only adding fuel to the fire.

“God damnit girl. You’re fucking breaking my heart. I hope your happy with him, but I also hope you know how far I would’ve gone for you. Anything you fucking wanted I would’ve got you. Fuck!” He was yelling by the end, the liquid courage turning him into a toxic beast. He would be so disappointed in himself if he were sober.

“Fuck you George! You’ve ruined what was meant to be the best day of my life!” You huffed picking up your dress and turning to run away, your cries following you, haunting the hallways making him shiver.

With the knowledge of him ruining a day you had been looking forward to for so long, and quite possibly losing something he loved so much, he ran to the nearest restroom, knees buckling when he entered the stall as he hurled the dangerous amounts of liquor into the toilet.

He sobbed and cried in between emptying his entire stomach, hands plastered so roughly and deeply into his hair.

He ruined everything.

He was such a mistake.

And it was something that ruined a perfect friendship, a guilt that plagued him for years until the grave.

[qtlibehsun]

Do you have any rules for requests :0

hello! i probably should have stated my rules somewhere so i guess this will be an in-depth analysis of what i find to be my rules... i suppose... LOL

1. gender - i have no issue with writing the reader as a nonbinary character, so everyone can read it, i am currently working on doing some fics with that style now. however, i will not do male x male for streamers who have specifically stated they are straight. just like how i don't think anyone would write a female x james charles fic, it just doesn't work like that. respect EVERYONE's sexuality :)

2. mental health / self-harm / suicide etc. - once again i have no issue with writing fics that revolve around this topic, as i understand that people who are dealing with these things sometimes seek out this genre of fics as a comfort or support pillar. however i don't feel comfortable with going into extreme detail with these, as i try to put my best writing forward, and i don't want to seem insensitive at all or put forward something that may cause a relapse, or may offend someone. (detail as in explaining how someone were to commit suicide hypothetically)

3. smut / sexual stuff - writing sexual stuff for creators who have specified they don't mind being sexualized also doesn't bother me, however, id feel quite uncomfortable writing it and putting it forward on my platform. i like to write a shit load of angst and i just find that the sexual smutty stuff would clash with my works. that being said, i am comfortable to imply and do it in small sections, just whole smut fics are off the table. 

hope this answers any questions - promise more work coming very, VERY, soon 

[qtlibehsun]

Holy shit... "why can't you be mine?" Just stomped on my heart jdhxngkwidix!!! You're so good with angst oh my god!!!

thank you so much oml!! i promise more shiz is coming i’m just a busy lady atm 😽

[qtlibehsun]

YOUR WRITING FOR WHY CANT YOU BE MINE WAS SO GHHDST GOOD!!!

thank you so much!!!!! :)

[qtlibehsun]

this isn’t a request but holy hell i just wanted to tell you’re such a talented writer! your dream fic got me all in my feels. you know that feeling you get where you just finished a pretty good show/anime and you just sit there contemplating life? yeah that’s how i felt after finishing your fic. you have such a way with words!! im so excited to read more from u <3

omg i literally just started this and the feedback i’ve been getting is incredible 🥺🥺 i’m so giddy thank you!!

[qtlibehsun]

why can’t you be mine?

pairing: dream / clay x f!reader [angst] 

summary: dream has to sit back and watch as the girl he loves is taken by his best friend

warnings: lots of cursing 

word count: 1.1k

Clay had never been this angry. He almost felt like the mouse may have been broken due to the intense hold he had on it. Why? Well, there was George, his best friend, flirting with Y/N. His Y/N. Red was tainting his vision and he had the sudden urge to sock his friend in the face. What was he thinking?

He thought he was being rational. Even though Clay hadn’t expressed it, he thought it had been pretty obvious to the British boy that he had strong feelings for the girl. But to his mistake, George was unaware.

“So… Y/N,” George had started over the microphone. “What’re you doing this Friday night?” Clay felt his blood rush to his head instantly.

“Nothing. Why?” He could practically hear the blush in your timid voice.

“Well that new restaurant just opened. Did you maybe want to go check it out? With me?”

The blonde rolled away from his computer screen, his heart beating rapidly in his chest. Please say no. Please Y/N. Fuck, say no.

“I’d love to George.”

His head fell in his hands, a thickness growing in his throat and a tightness in his chest.

“Oh, thank god Y/N. Sorry it’s just I really like you that’s all.”

What was George doing? Did he forget he was there? Why was he admitting these feelings to her when the man who loved her unconditionally was sitting right there, his heart slowly being torn it two.  

“It’s fine George,” you laughed, although it had never left such a distasteful feeling in Clay’s chest. “I like you too.” And that was the breaking point for him.

“Hey, you do know I’m still here right.” He had bitterly, snapped, his growing rage slowly consuming him.

“Oh! Dream! Shit I’m sorry man I forgot you were here,” George had laughed from the other side of the call.

“No, it’s fine. I’ll leave you to it,” Clay had grumbled as he abruptly quit the voice chat.

Never in his entire life had he wanted to grab his best friends head and shove it so far up someone’s ass. He was fuming. Just two days ago he was talking about how beautiful this other girl was, and now he was asking his girl out.

It was wrong. He couldn’t love her like he could. Clay didn’t consider himself as a selfish or possessive person, but Y/N was different. She stayed up late and called him some nights when he was upset. Always said good morning too him, and good night. Heck, she even baked his mother banana bread when they first met.

Clay’s mother had adored Y/N. And so had his sister, and brother, and his entire family for that matter. He knew she was the one then.

And now that British son of a bitch George was whisking her away for a date on Friday night. He felt hopeless. He should’ve tried harder; he should’ve told her he liked her. Told her how funny she was, how generous she was, how utterly beautiful she was.

Tears started to prick at his eyes and blur his vision. You will not cry Clay. Fuck don’t you dare fucking cry.

“Fucking fuck,” He whimpered as he ran from his chair and into the kitchen. “Fuckity fuck, fuck fucking hell.” The tears started to fall as he rapidly searched for some water. He felt hopeless, defeated, crying over a girl like this. Grow up.

He was halfway through chugging his water when his phone rung. He ignored it not being in the mood to talk to anyone now, but nonetheless checked his phone to see who it was.

1 Missed call from Y/N.

1 New Text Message from George: Dream? Are you okay man?

Clay almost growled. Fuck off George.

He was sending daggers into the blue light of his screen when Y/N’s caller ID graced the screen again. He instantly picked up out of habit, cursing himself a second after. Just stay quiet Clay, she’ll leave you alone eventually.

“Clay?” Her soft voice pierced his ears. “Are you there?” He couldn’t help himself.

“Yeah, I’m here Y/N.”

“Oh, thank god! What’s wrong? Why’d you leave like that?”

He sighed loudly, the noise not missing Y/N’s ears. “Nothing’s wrong, Y/N/N. I’m just tired that’s all.”

Y/N awkwardly giggled from the other end of the phone, “Clay, come on, I know something is up, please tell me. You tell me everything, I’m worried.”

The tears started to come back. I know. But I can’t tell you this. “Seriously, I’m fine.” Please just drop it. Please.

“Clay…”

“Stop saying my name like that, please. Please just stop,” he cried, his hand firmly plastered in the roots of his hair

It was quiet on the other end for a bit.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t realise. If I had known I would’ve talked to him in private,” she said, finally catching onto what he was implying, stumbling over her words.

“No. It’s fine,” He choked, loudly too. She would’ve heard that as well. “Look Y/N, I can’t complain, I didn’t do anything about it. I don’t want to get in the way of anything, our friendship or George’s. We live in different countries anyway, so I don’t know what I was thinking.”

She was quiet, of course she was, what was she meant to say.

“Can we please just drop it?” He asked desperately. Sure, he loved her, deeply loved her, but losing his friendship with her and not being able to talk to her at all would hurt a lot more than seeing her with George. He was a twenty-one-year-old man, he could suck it up and move on. And fuck it would sting, and kill him to see George hold her, and kiss her, and love her, when that’s all he wanted to do, but he’d just have to suck it up.

“Okay. I’m sorry Clay. Please call me or text me if you need anything. I love you.”

“Fuck. I love you.” He knew he shouldn’t have said it. She meant it platonically and him romantically, but he had to say it, he just had to. It wasn’t fair but god he had to tell her.

She hung up.

He threw his fist against the counter and left his house in to sit in his car, fuming, the need to hit something arising in his chest. His steering wheel took a beating over the next couple of minutes. He felt like a child.

Two weeks later Clay was crying on the floor of his shower, his head in his hands. His phone lay open on the bath matt outside, a leaked photo of George and Y/N holding hands, kissing, in a booth at a restaurant.

[qtlibehsun]

masterlist of masterlists

(rules down the bottom)

request anything for the people following: 

DREAM 

GEORGENOTFOUND

SAPNAP 

QUACKITY 

KARL JACOBS 

WILBUR 

ERET 

AWESAMDUDE

TECHNOBLADE  (in game) 

JSCHLATT   (in game)

DREAM SMP 

HEAD CANNONS 

IMAGINES   (over 500 words)

DRABBLES   (under 500 words)

CURRENT WORKS IN PROGRESS 

RULES