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#mcyt writing
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repositioning the mistletoe because they need MORE kisses
masterlist here
when wilbur originally set the mistletoe by the front door, he stood on a creaky old chair with a smirk on his face, “You know the tradition, right?”
you shuffle the handful of mail in your hands, acting like your cheeks aren’t pink. “Tradition?” you hum, “haven’t heard of it.”
he sighs, gets down from the old stool and appears at your side, wraps his arms around your middle and rests his chin on your shoulder.
his voice is deep and low, like he’s calling to a memory far away, not something he recites every week since October, “Tradition calls that every time a couple meets under the mistletoe,” his lips are near your ear, “they have to kiss.”
you get out of his grips, turn around to face him, hate how bright pink his face makes yours: “i’ve never been one for tradition.”
he snorts, “we’ll see, darling.”
days pass, and you forget about it that quick.
wilbur realizes you don’t spend as much time in the threshold of the kitchen as he remembers, drying your hands on the edge of your apron, or calling for him to reach a too high jar, or him pulling you away from the sink to slow dance with him-
he counts his losses, and grabs the old ladder, takes down the ladder and positions it somewhere he knows you’ll be, where his chances of kisses are higher-
you’re home from a long day of meetings that could have been emails, kicking your shoes off when wilbur all but runs in.
“see!” he calls, “look!”
and he points up, as if for evidence, and shows the new position off.
“wilbur,” you finally laugh, “you bastard. you moved it! that has to be against the rules, or something!”
“no rules in mistletoe,” he mumbles, pulls you close and tilts his head, a quick peck on the lips, “thought you weren’t one for following tradition.”
he teases, his lips against yours still.
“I’m not,” you insist, “my silly boyfriend is though.”
“yeah?” he leans in for another kiss, “your boyfriend sounds pretty cool.”
you snort, your eyes on him as you see he leans up with ease, takes the mistletoe down and repositions it so you’re still under it.
“wilbur,” you hit his chest playfully, “i’m pretty sure this is cheating.”
his hand is over your heads, the mistoletoe dangling between you two, he leans in for a final kiss, “there’s no cheating in mistletoe.”
“sounds like something a cheater would say.” you tease back, the smile that pulls on your lips gives it away as he finally laughs, his forehead against yours still as he talks
“Quiet, you.” he laughs, goes in for another kiss gently.
it becomes a game for wilbur, of some sort.
meets you by the front door for his kiss, and you’ll go into the kitchen, washing your hands, in search of snack and a water, only to look in the threshold and see wilbur repositioning the mistletoe in the doorway of the kitchen, acting surprised.
“wilbur.”
you’ll laugh, but always give him his kiss, act like you don’t hear him in the room next to you, repositioning mistletoe on old hooks and half hanging on nails just for another kiss from you.
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itsonlydana · 2 years
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"the consequences of kissing your homies" ➷ Foolish
➛ pairing: cc!Foolish x gn!reader
➛ idea: you should never propose a game of trying to recognize which friend is kissing you while you wear a blindfold, not when you are madly in love with one of them
➛ word count: 2k
➛ tags/warnings: none, fluff, making out, reader kisses sapnap, karl, foolish and punz
➛ an: me and a friend play a game where she finds my simp-comments under edits of foolish on tiktok and i think i set my personal record after all those irl streams
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You're always smarter in retrospect.
This thought drilled into your head as a black shirt was tied around your eyes and the last thing you saw were the four grinning faces of your friends - then there was only darkness. 
It was overwhelming to see nothing and notice so much more at the same time. You rubbed your flat clammy palms over the fabric of your pants, from your thighs to your knees where they rested pressed together, sandwiched between your legs bobbing up and down. "These are the consequences of your smart mouth" you talked to yourself in your mind "You have to go through this now"
"Okay, how many fingers am I showing?", Sapnap asked you as a test after the knot in the back of your head had been carefully tied down by Karl.
You stared strained against the fabric in front of your eyes. "Four? I don't know, I can't see anything." And that was exactly the bad thing. You couldn't see what the four boys were up to and doing, could only guess from Karl's quiet giggle that at least they were having fun with the whole thing.
This game had been your idea, the result of a stupid comment about the inability of Foolish to recognize burgers correctly and that it couldn't be that hard to guess things when you can't use your eyes. Karl, who had no problem showing his affection with physical effection anyway, immediately jumped on the thought train and claimed he could recognize all his friends by kissing. 
Maybe you should have thought before you claimed to be able to do that. Maybe it was stupid to look past your feelings for Foolish and kiss him just because you didn't want to take back your words. 
You' re always smarter in retrospect, but you dreaded the road to this point.
You took a deep breath, your own heartbeat beating loudly in your ears, and you feared the boys would notice how unsure you had suddenly become. But they were busy with themselves, you could hear them whispering from a corner of the room, probably about an order, but as much as you tried to understand their murmurs so you could mentally prepare yourself for when it was Foolish's turn, they were unintelligible. 
Footsteps approached and you pushed your back straight through. "So?" you asked in a slightly wavering voice "Do you still have the guts or do you want to give up before you lose?"
"Well whoever kisses you has won anyway...ow what man?"
While you rolled your eyes at Sapnap's first statement, you cracked them wide open at the swearing. He had definitely been lightly beaten by someone, you could guess that from the gasp and the muffled boxing noise, but who among the guys would overreact like that to a clear joke like that? Since you had met, the conversations had consisted of either teasing each other or overdoing the purely platonic flirting. Not that it's anything new, from the beginning you were all very open to each other and the closer you got to each other the more risqué some of the flirting statements were, just look at Quackity and Foolish. For whatever reason Sapnap got backlash for that joke was a mystery to you, but maybe you got into such thoughts out of sheer panic. 
"Besides, we're not giving up, are we guys?" asked Punz, the tension instantly dissipated. 
For you, too, all caution was blown away as footsteps approached. Automatically, you raised your head slightly, so that the person would only have to lean down to kiss you. 
Briefly you thought about how stupid your idea was and how much it could destroy your friendship with Foolish, but then you heard breathing near you and before you saw it coming, pun intended, a pair of lips brushed yours. It wasn't even a second of contact, just a hint of a touch that didn't send butterflies fluttering around in your stomach or turn your vision pink behind the blindfold. Just a brush, there for a moment and gone right away. If each of the guys kept it that brief, you'd have no trouble working your way through this and not break out in a love panic. Relieved, you exhaled a breath held far too long, relaxed a little.
"Punz," you said with a firmness in your voice that made the man blow air out of his cheeks. "What? Even a fraction of a millisecond from a kiss is enough to let me taste those white claws you drink. Next."
Places were switched, Punz dropped down next to you on the couch and someone else squatted in front of you. The next set of lips was softer, sticky from a recently applied and cherry tasting chapstick you had seen in the hand of one of the guys just a few minutes ago, but before you could respond the person burst into a series of uncontrollable giggles that -even if you had guessed wrong- would have removed any doubt you had one hundred percent. 
The giggle was infectious and rolled over you a wave of complete relaxation about the whole situation, making you shake your head in laughter. "Karl! Of course I recognize you when you laugh!"
"Well great," Punz complained with a smile in his voice from your side "Now you've given them a point"
"And I thank you very much" you grinned, wiping away the remains of his chapstick with the back of your hand. Karl stood back up, his hands propped on your knees. You really could have recognized him without the laughter, already today he had pressed a kiss on your cheeks twice on the stream and once met your mouth, which fortunately the camera hadn't caught. 
You prepared yourself for the next kiss, the next one had a 50/50 chance of being Foolish and although you hoped he might not be up for such a game and drop out at short notice, you could feel the excited shiver that traveled over your entire body at the presence of either Foolish or Sapnap in front of you. It was six tense seconds of the person in front of you resting, taking time to lean down, and you felt a hot breath hit your face. You heard a heavy swallow, a hitched breath, and you felt the heat creep up the back of your neck. Just as you opened your mouth slightly to make a joke, the person bridged the last few inches and his lips met yours, open and hot. Your eyes fluttered shut behind the blindfold as the sensations swept over you and overwhelmed you. You knew instantly who just kissed you, whose lips were so perfect on yours that they had to be meant for each other, and you took a shaky breath into the kiss. A single word, a single name, your whole world
"Foolish"
He didn't break away from you right away, but remained in front of you for a moment, his lips hovering over yours, that you still felt every breath. And then he kissed you a second time, a brief peck that you tried to chase, knowing you would never again experience a kiss as sweet and real as this one, because no one would make you feel the way Foolish did. 
You had won the game, but you still felt like a loser as you slowly took off the blindfold and couldn't even look in Foolish's direction without feeling a pang in your chest. 
The rest of the evening was a blur, quickly passing games and conversations that could have actually been a wonderful distraction from what was to come as the night drew ever closer. 
Because of course, it was today of all days that Quackity arrived and you had naturally agreed to have no problem sharing a bed with Foolish. Before the kiss you had had no problem, before the kiss you were happy to have sleepover parties with one of your friends who was also your crush but mostly your friend.
After the kiss, your heart's priorities had changed a bit. 
You excused yourself earlier than the others, hoping to fall asleep before Foolish decided to go to bed. As fate would crucially have it, you had just sat down on the bed and were about to turn off the bedside lamp light when there was a knock on the door and Foolish came into the room at your hesitant "yes." 
"Are you okay?" he asked and you wanted to cry out in frustration at his loving care, instead you just nodded. Foolish stepped further into the room until he sat down at the edge of the bed. You continued to avoid his gaze, suddenly all the lint on your sleeping top was much more interesting. "(y/n)", Foolish began and your grip around the hem of your shirt tightened, nails digging into the fabric "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable with the kiss"
"What?" your gaze shot up from a particularly attention grabbing piece of fluff to Foolish whose dark eyes were on you "You didn't make me uncomfortable, how come-"
"So that kiss didn't change anything for you?" asked Foolish, and you swore the earth shook under his words. 
"No," you lied under bated breath, your voice no louder than a whisper that let your lie fill the silent room. You couldn't tell him the truth, you valued your friendship too much for that, even if it seemed to be on the brink right now, for a shadow flitted across Foolish's serious gaze.
Then he leaned closer. "If it hasn't changed anything, then surely I can repeat it."
The earth shook, time stood still, and the angels in heaven sang praises as Foolish kissed you, again, without blindfold, without any games. There was no excuse as to why you welcomed his kiss, other than pure desire to surrender to the feelings ripping you off your feet and surrender to him. As much as you wanted to keep your eyes open and see that it was really Foolish who just kissed you with everything he had, when he climbed onto the bed and leaned over you they fluttered shut and you let him gently press you against the pillows. You were drunk on his lips, addicted within seconds to them and the way they fit perfectly on yours. Foolish's hands gripping the back of your neck knocked down every wall around your heart, crumbling the protection between you and your feelings, and you gave up trying to ignore them. One of his hands ran over your shoulder, down your chest and to your heart, resting over the rapid pounding against your ribcage as he pulled your head closer with his other hand on your neck. There was not an inch between you, no room for denying what you both felt, no more room to run away from each other.
There was no game, no guessing whose lips belonged to whom, and yet Foolish kissed you as if he was desperate to prove to you that it was because of him that stars danced in front of your closed eyelids and tears of joy welled up in your eyes. 
The feeling of his body on yours, his one leg between yours and his chest against yours, was crushing and grounding, his smell -his perfume, his shaving cream and just him- real and no longer a part of your fantasy, your hope. 
You raised your hands, burying your fingers in his long black hair, and Foolish inhaled sharp into the kiss. Finally you managed to open your eyes, (e/c) met a dark brown, almost black and in them love.
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rammwhy · 2 years
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New York Kiss | cc!Jschlatt drabble
summary: You and Schlatt go out for a drive and some pizza, and it leads to something more.
pairing: cc!Schlatt x gn!reader
tags/warnings: technically consensual but non-verbal? not sure if that warrants a warning but just in case :) | fluff
notes: first fic I've written in a very long time and first fic ever posted on tumblr! I've just been reading a lot of schlatt drabbles lately and wanted to write one myself! The ending feels a bit rushed imo, but I'm still pretty proud of this.
Inspired by the song New York Kiss by Spoon. Also, the bonus at the end is purely just crack entertainment, take it as you will lol
words: 721
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New York kiss.
Kinda cliche, huh? I never imagined this would happen; that I would be here, underneath the neon signs, kissing you in the night.
You, my best friend and roommate of 3 years. The guy I never thought I would get along with, because I thought you were so brash and loud and rude--and you were. Honestly I only ever put up with you because Ted liked you, and you happened to have a spare room.  
But then I learned about you.
You, who sends an incessant amount of gibbon monkey videos at 3 in the morning, just because you like them and you think I'll like them too. You, who always gets so excited when someone matches you in Mario kart, no matter how much you pride yourself in being the "drift king." You, who drove all the way out in the dead of the night to come pick me up when I was scared and alone, who listens to me ramble about the most trivial things, who gives the warmest hugs when all I can feel is the cold, who lets me know that I'm enough.
You, you, you.
All I can feel is you.
You're gentle when you kiss me, lips soft and slow with your hand lightly caressing my face. It's like you're scared to hurt me--like you're cradling a delicate flower in your hands. Needless to say, a stark contrast from how you present yourself.
This wasn't supposed to happen. We were visiting your home city, that was it; a fun vacation with the rest of the group. Ted and Charlie were back at the airbnb, saying they were too tired to go out and do anything else. But I was bored and hungry, and we still hadn't gone to that pizza place you love so much. So, you being you, took me out for a late night drive.
Spoon and alt-j played in the background as we talked and talked until all I could think about was how happy you make me. Even when there was a lull in the conversation, we were comfortable and content, just sitting in each other's presence as we passed mundane streetlights. Talks like these were what I loved most.
And then we were here--stomachs full of classic New York pizza as we walked beneath the neon signs. After much arguing and bickering (and a few annoyed looks from the restaurant owner), we split the bill and scurried out of the place, giggling like a couple of high schoolers. What we found so funny I'll never really know, but we were drunk with joy, and that was enough.
We did what we came here for, but neither of us wanted to leave just yet. So, we walked. And as we walked, I noticed you had a soft look in your eyes; one that would grow and twinkle whenever you laughed. I was... enamoured, to say the least. And, maybe it showed, because you stopped walking and took my hand, and I looked up into your eyes.
I don't know what it was--a spark, a snap--but without even saying a word, we both just knew.
And then you kissed me. And I kissed you.
-
Bonus:
When you and Schlatt had come back to the airbnb, completely lovesick and hand in hand, the first thing Charlie and Ted did was... well, yell.
"Wow, took you long en-oH MY GOD!" Charlie exclaimed, pointing at your joined hands in shock? Fear? Excitement?
The two of you quickly pulled away, wincing at the sheer volume your friend had just produced. The both of you, having been so caught up in the initial romance of it all, hadn't quite decided how to tell the boys--if at all.
Charlie seemed to have decided for you, though.
"What is with the yelling?" Ted asked, making his way to the entrance and seeing Charlie pointing between you and Schlatt. "What are you pointing at?" All that came out of Charlie's mouth were incoherent exclamations, accompanied by more jabbing of his finger towards you two.
"THEM?? HANDS??? WHAAAA????" He managed to say, though barely understandable. Ted, however, was a fairly observant man. Processing Charlie's words, aggressive finger jutting, and the singular hands behind each of your backs, he let out a gasp.
"YOU GUYS ARE DATING?"
©rammwhy 2022 please do not copy, repost, or translate any of my work anywhere without my permission | reblogs are ok!
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lexinivison · 2 years
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·˚˖ them with an s/o who's love language is physical touch
– ❛ 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞𝐬 : Ted, schlatt, Charlie.
– ❛ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 : how the boys are with an s/o who's love language is physical touch
– ❛ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : none that I'm aware of
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*.₊.˚꒰:: SCHLATT !
I've said it once and I'll say it again schlatt isn't very fond of physical touch
don't get him wrong now, he loves you deeply but he just doesn't like to be touched all the time
so if you ask him for cuddles or hugs
he'll likely say no at the moment
but he knows that's the only way you show love and so he yes, after saying no to you about 10 times
he tries his best to give hugs and cuddles to you whenever he feels most comfortable
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*.₊.˚꒰:: TED !
he loves how your love language is physical touch
and he low-key takes advantage of it
is hella clingy with you when he finds out
whenever he is feeling down he just calls out for you and you come running to him for hug aka a boost of serotonin for him
gets happy whenever you grab his hand out of nowhere and just randomly kisses it
loves how you give him warm hugs out of nowhere
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*.₊.˚꒰:: CHARLIE !
listen be prepared for this man right here
he absolutely loves how you just love to hug, kiss or cuddle with him in the most randomness spot
he's streaming oh well, he holds your hand under his desk
if he's tired after a long day of hard work he calls out to you for a cuddle session
he doesn't care how clingy you get with him, that is until he has to work.
overall he's like Ted he truly takes advantage of the whole 'love language is physical touch' thing
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notes 💌 : this isn't my best work but oh well
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dappersautismcreature · 8 months
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some of the Minecraft like mechanic rules/fanon parts I follow in fics/art(sort of a record for me but also maybe some ideas for you!):
(long post)
RESPAWN MECHANICS: 
quick deaths like being killed by a mob in five hits or less/far fall/explosion will make it easier to respawn quickly AKA get back up and walk it off. Those deaths caused the body less prolonged stress/pain and that is why they are easier to recover from.
longer deaths like slowly burning to death/being stabbed like fifty times in order to be killed/getting punched to death/drowning/suffocating/poisoned/withered etc is harder to immediately get back up from and may require some medical care afterwards to be at full health.
kids and animals (if they can respawn as they are generally npcs and have one life) take longer to recover.
if the death comes with physical or mental stress, such as dying alongside a loved one, dying while afraid, dying under torture, dying slowly, or dying repeatedly may cause someone to pass out immediately after respawning due to physical/mental exhaustion. these deaths may also cause scarring, trauma, or long term injuries, it’s a bit of a universal mystery, almost like the chaos in the universe itself decides which deaths cause that, as well as the state of the player themselves.
TOTEMS:
when a totem cracks, it infuses the players heart with a mixture of adrenaline and like, secret lifesaving juice(the totem’s blood). totems can be used one after the other but if you use more than 5 within about 20 minutes, your blood can start to get tainted. more than 10 within 20 minutes? you’re getting close to sepsis. 20 in 20 minutes? you are actively dying of sepsis, which is a slow and lasting death. blood poisoning basically. if you get really intense and start just repeatedly popping totems every second, after about 50 you’re insta-dead, and might even die again upon respawning.
CREATIVE MODE/ADMIN PERMS:
players in creative mode are immortal demigods that can only be struck down by admins (/kill commands), admins can be both mortal or immortal gods. Admins can affect the world around them with commands, and can alter the physics and rules of the world around them. Creatives are demigods with immortality and can only become mortal or vice versa with an admin’s help. (example c!Xisuma of Hermitcraft is a mortal admin, while c!Drista of DSMP is an immortal creative, and c!Callahan of DSMP is an immortal admin)
Admin’s can be trained by past admin’s but any player can technically be one, they just might not be a very powerful one, and people might not join their server. Admin’s can only affect their server, so if they entered another they might be more knowledgable on server mechanics, but cannot access them without hacking or that server admin’s permission. 
If a server is very big and popular, their admin is usually very experienced and powerful and old. That admin may even be able to travel through the void unbothered, thought to be because they are connected to Minecraft’s root code.
MINECRAFT CREATORS:
the creators of Minecraft are dimension hopping, reality bending, incomprehensible gods. they are responsible for general spawning conditions, communicator designs(will come up later), the vanilla Minecraft items, and the very source code of this universe. 
SERVERS AND THE VOID AND THE INTERNET:
servers are kind of like planets, each planet floats in the void, has an atmosphere, etc. but they are more like dimensions in that while you could theoretically physically travel between them, it is much much safer to teleport. and also each server operates with its own rules and physics sometimes. So view server/planets as something like dimensions with dark void in between them that warps time and space. don’t view it visually as the same kind of universe as ours, more like each server is the meat in a sandwich where the bread is the void? so below and above each server is the void, and that void is the same as every other void? like wormholes.
its much easier to just use your communicator to teleport between servers, your ability to do so depends on the admin’s imposed rules for the server.
servers like Hypixel or other multiplayer game servers like it are seen as hub servers where players can meet up. MCC is a sporting event server where people can watch the more famous players compete. 
famous players usually become famous through word of mouth, or posting clips or videos of their collaborations or moments or feats. these videos can be viewed on communicators. streaming doesn’t exist as the void could not permit streaming between servers. but there are big systems on big servers for downloading new videos, and famous players upload their videos on bigger servers.
TIME AND YEARS:
minutes, hours, days, months, and years all operate the same as irl. because irl its been about 11 years since Minecraft was created, I say that its been about 1100 years since the universe was created. servers age will start from the moment of their creation. but most servers will hold true to the date on the communicators expressed for example as 1/1/1143, and every 365 days it is a new year. Unless time is said to have been passed I say in a meta way that each stream/day of filming a video is a day. Some servers can be stuck in time, but this is usually either an admin twisting code illegally, or a glitch. 
COMMUNICATORS:
when a player spawns into a new world or server they spawn in with nothing except clothing and the latest edition of the communicator. it is updated with each new mc update so as of writing this players in new worlds get communicator version 1.20. all communicators usually have the time, world chat, coordinates, light level reader, and depending on the mods in the world or the permissions, and the status of the player as player, admin, or creative, it can have things like a world map, access to code, camera features, etc etc. 
PLAYERS AND HYBRIDS:
players can be born from parents but they can also just kind of, spawn into existence. a lot of player families are found families, but these are treated as close to biological as possible. players can spawn in at any age but most are spawned in as 6-16 year olds. when players spawn in without any player family, they spawn into single-player worlds. but can figure out how to get to other worlds due to being spawned in with a communicator. often the first few years of a player’s life are lonely, so they get very attached to their found families.
the ratio of born/spawned in players is changing every day as more players are having children, but as of around 1100 the ratio is about 40/60, the ratio of non-hybrid to hybrid is about 50/50
hybrids do not have to be vanilla Minecraft mobs, though those were most common in the early years. only in the past couple centuries have demon, angel, and more bizarre hybrids begun to show up, though it is believed most of them are quite old and just remained hidden. the most common hybrids are avian, pet-hybrids like dogs and cats, goat/horse/sheep, and piglin, creeper, or enderman hybrids. hybrids do not necessarily have to be created by procreation, oftentimes they are not, and are simply spawned in. it has been this way since the beginning. 
certain dimension exclusive hybrid players will be born/spawned in their dimensions, but can travel to the Overworld.
THE NETHER AND THE END AND THE OVERWORLD:
the nether has many civilizations that are very very wary of players, however they will usually let hybrids stay with them. if they have a kind community, these players may naturally choose to stay in the nether, but usually their communities outcast them and they are driven to the overworld. to do so they will create a nether portal. the nether is close to the bottom layer of the void.
the end has the endermen civilization, who look after the dragon on each server.  hybrids can usually get by ok in these civilizations, but similarly to the nether they sometimes escape to the overworld. to do so they sneak past the ender dragon and her guards, and spawn in at world spawn. the end is close to the top layer of the void.
WATCHERS:
watchers are the only beings able to traverse the void completely safely. thought to have long ago escaped the outer edges of the end, they now live in the void somewhere. there are no known records of them, just heard about through word of mouth and legends. it is thought they can control chance, luck, and things that not even admins can influence. it is rumored they destroy servers for fun, but those reports have been proven false, it is more likely that they have motives we do not yet know. the legends surrounding them report many pairs of wings, a lot of eyes, and glowing purple magic. 
MAGIC:
like stated previously, depending on the admin’s choices, the very physics of a server can be changed, and so, some servers can be very very technical and some very magic dependent. however magic cannot be brought over onto other servers with some very specific exceptions. if a player is cursed or blessed by a particularly ancient and powerful admin or a creator. if a player is conceived and born from two players on a magical server. and lastly if a player has managed to either hack through to the code of the server, been glitched, or hacked their own player code to allow for it. it is possible for them to be able to use that specific magic even on a server that doesn’t include that possibility in its code. however this can, as you could imagine, cause chaos and/or glitches as the server fails to comprehend what is happening, so admins can add magic-blockers to their server code. 
HACKERS:
hackers are usually ex admins, the most experienced being centuries old. it is important for them to keep their PlayerName hidden as that is one of the easiest way an admin or even creator could track them down, so they usually go by alias’. they frequent anarchy servers mostly, but some occasionally search for easy targets in the hub servers. going after kids is seen as cheap and highly unethical by most hackers. 
THE CANON-ICITY OF PAST LIVES ON OTHER SERVERS:
to clarify this section is referring to situations such as YHS being canon to hc!Grian’s backstory for example, or DSMP being canon to q!Bad’s backstory etc etc. and honestly? whatever the story calls for, but I love me some cross servers backstory, I love me some backstory that includes other servers. 
that being said, sometimes a story on a server will straight up say ‘hey this isn’t a characters backstory actually’ so hell, there are other dimensions where server’s work differently. yeah.
CONCLUSION:
I probably missed a few things as my mcyt experience has been Dantdm, Popularmmos, DSMP, Hermitcraft, Life Series, and now QSMP, and I am only an English speaker. 
feel free to tell me ur Minecraft mechanic head canons in the tags <3
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dragonsaphirareads · 11 months
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Read on AO3
Pearl opened her eyes.
Welcome! Everything is fine.
The green writing on the otherwise blank white wall was the first thing she noticed when she woke. Had she fallen asleep, somehow sitting straight upright? Where was she? The room looked like some kind of waiting room – had she had a meeting with one of her freelance clients today?
Welcome! Everything is fine.
Pearl’s thoughts felt thick, like she was trying to swim through syrup. The last thing she remembered was walking her dog, heading down the sidewalk to the dog park where she loved to run free. She must have gotten home at some point, though looking down at her clothes she noticed she was wearing the same maroon sweatshirt and ratty jeans she’d thrown on that morning.
Welcome! Everything is fine.
She couldn’t be meeting a client then. She always made sure to dress her best on the few times she had to go out for her job – it tended to get her more clients and bigger tips. Nobody wanted to entrust their entire technical infrastructure to someone who didn’t look like they’d brushed their hair that morning.
“Pearl?” Came a voice from her left, breaking her free from the honeyed tendrils of the trance she had been in. Standing inside the open door was a man, smiling at her softly with one hand on the doorframe. He had messy blonde hair combed out of his face, and he wore a red jumper that was nearly too big on him. When she stood up on instinct, she even noticed that they were the same height – she might even have had an inch or two on him. “Come on in.”
Pearl had no idea what was going on, how she got here or who this strange man was, but she strangely didn’t feel even the slightest hesitation following him through the door and into his office. Her body still felt light, like she was gliding across the room rather than walking, and when the man gestured her to sit in the chair in front of his desk, even that felt oddly weightless.
“Right then, let’s start at the beginning.” The man said, leveling her with dark brown eyes that felt like staring into a whirlpool. “You, Pearl Moon, are dead.”
For a moment, his words didn’t register. Dead? No, that wasn’t right. She was just alive, after all. She’d woken up early that morning to walk Tilly before she went to work. She’d gotten her shoes on, attached Tilly’s leash, and left the front door to walk their normal route. It had been a chilly morning, the dew hanging heavy on the grass beside the sidewalk, and Tilly insisted on rolling all over it.
And then… then something happened, she thought. There was a loud noise, a blaring sort of noise, and then a loud bang, and then… nothing.
“…Oh.” Pearl said, because there wasn’t really anything else to say
“Now, I understand this might come as a shock to you, especially since your passing was so… sudden. Please, take a minute if you need time to process—”
“What happened to Tilly?” Pearl interrupted immediately, leaning forward in her chair and gripping the edge of the desk desperately. The man blinked, taken aback for a moment before looking down and rifling through a thick manila folder on his desk.
“Tilly… that was your dog, correct?” He muttered, licking his thumb to page through some loose papers. “Let me see… ah, here it is.”
He lifted out a typed page covered in strange characters Pearl had never seen before, and began to read aloud. “On their early morning walk, Pearl was walking her dog Tilly when suddenly, a drunk driver came careening down their street and lost control of their car, driving onto the pavement and striking Pearl. Hearing the commotion, her neighbor, a Miss Gem Tay, came out of her house to see what was going on and found Tilly barking loudly, attempting to wake her owner whose neck was snapped at such an angle that it was obvious she was beyond help. Tilly whined and cried as Ms. Tay tried to drag her away from Pearl’s body, trying at the same time to dial the paramedics in the vain hope that her neighbor might be saved—”
“Stop! T-That’s… that’s enough.” Pearl stuttered, her hands shaking uncontrollably as her heart raced in her chest. She swallowed against the lump welling up in her throat and took a deep breath. “I just… just wanted to know if Tilly was safe.”
The man gasped, putting a hand over his heart. “O-Oh! Oh, my goodness, I’m so sorry! I read these reports so often, I forget how emotional of an experience it can be for you humans. Um…” He cleared his throat, shuffling through some more papers as Pearl tried to collect herself. “It looks like after the… incident, Ms. Tay adopted Tilly herself, as a companion to her recently adopted puppy. Hopefully that can put your mind at ease.”
It did, ever so slightly. Pearl had spoken with Gem several times over the six months since she’d moved in. They were around the same age, and both had very energetic dogs who loved to run, so they’d talked whenever they were both at the dog park together. She was sweet, and Pearl knew she could be trusted with Tilly’s care.
Slowly, the knot in her chest came undone, and she nodded. “Ok… ok, I’m alright now.” Pearl raised her head to look at the man again, then glanced around the small office. It looked about the same as any other corporate office she’d been in, with boring beige walls and dark, expensive looking wooden furniture. There was a bookshelf to one side, the same strange symbols from the papers on Grian’s desk also written on their spines. “So… where exactly am I? And who are you?”
“Ah!” The man smacked his forehead with a sheepish grin. “I knew I was forgetting something, silly me! My name is Grian, and I’m the Architect of this neighborhood."
“Architect?”
“Yes! See, the afterlife isn’t just one big place, it would get crowded and so hard to navigate. Instead, there are neighborhoods built for a small group of people, so everyone can feel like they’re important. There are two different ‘sides’ to the afterline – the Good Place, where everyone who was kind and good gets to go, and the Bad Place, where the true scum of the Earth are tortured for eternity.”
Pearl swallowed as Grian’s eyes met hers again. “So… which one am I in, then?”
She thought she was mostly a good person, but she was hardly a saint either. Depending on what their definition of “good” was, she could easily be cast aside on the basis that she hadn’t ever saved a puppy from a burning building, or something like that.
Grian let her question hang in the air for a long time, staring at her with a blank face and some indescribable emotion twinkling in his eyes. Then, finally, he broke out into a grin and chuckled softly. “You don’t need to look so worried. It’s alright, Pearl. You’re in the Good Place.”
Pearl let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding. She wouldn’t be tortured for eternity – she made it. For someone who’d never really believed in an afterlife, it was an incredible relief that she’d managed to get into the good one.
Grian stood up then, waving for her to get up as well. “But don’t just take my word for it, why don’t I show you just how wonderful your afterlife will be!” And with a hand gently pressed between her shoulder blades, Pearl was guided out of Grian’s office and out into the sunshine of where she was going to spend the rest of her existence.
Even though she knew she should be excited – no, <i>ecstatic</i> to be in such a place, Pearl couldn’t help but feel that knot in her chest tighten, ever so slightly, as she caught sight of that message on the wall again.
<b>Welcome! Everything is fine.</b>
~
Pearl strolled along the main street in the neighborhood, paved with rough cobblestones and lined with cute little shops on either side. They all had that mom and pop look, which made sense as Grian kept gushing about various residents who had decided they wanted to run a little store in his neighborhood, and how excited he was for her to meet everyone. His energy was almost overbearing, electric in a near painful way. She tried her best to hide it, just to smile and nod and ask an occasional question to get him talking and looking away from her.
That was the strangest part, something that she couldn’t quite put her finger on yet. She knew Grian wasn’t human – he’d described himself as an “Architect”, whatever that meant – but there was something about the way he kept looking at her that made her feel like she was some kind of… lab experiment. He was always searching her face for some kind of reaction, like it would be the end of the world if she didn’t like something he’d made.
To be fair to him, he had said this was his first ever afterlife he’d designed. Pearl knew how nervewracking it could be to have someone else judge your work – and technically, she was the final “customer” for his work. Maybe she was being a little too harsh on someone who was clearly very green at his job.
“Ah, and here’s just the person I wanted to see!” Grian exclaimed, leading Pearl over to another man sitting at one of the outdoor café tables, sipping at a mug of some fancy espresso that was more milk and foam than coffee. He looked up as the two of them approached, and the first thing she noticed was just how icy blue his eyes and hair were. “Scott, I’m so glad to see you’re settling in!”
“It’s been great, everyone here’s very friendly.” Scott spoke, his accent distinct and somewhat charming.
“Oh, I’m so glad to hear it!” Grian smiled – did he ever get tired of being so chipper? – and then he gently pushed Pearl forward a step. “This is Pearl. Pearl, Scott.”
Pearl nodded to the blue-haired man politely. “Nice to meet you, Scott.”
“Nice to meet you too!” Scott nodded back, then glanced over to Grian who looked like he might explode with joy. “Are… you alright, Grian?”
“Huh? Oh, yes, I’m fine! I’m just so excited for you two to meet, it’s always so invigorating!”
Scott and Pearl met eyes for a moment, stumped, before Pearl decided to be the heel and ask. “What’s so invigorating? We’re just two people meeting for the first time, it happened all the time when we were alive.”
Well, maybe it had been for Scott. Pearl was a bit of a recluse – working remotely, and only really leaving the house to walk Tilly. Still, that didn’t seem particularly relevant now.
Grian was practically bouncing in place at this point. “Not just two people, no no! You two are much more than just two random humans meeting in passing! Your bond is so much more <i>special</i> than that!”
His eyes flicked between the two of them, clearly waiting for one of them to ask what was so special. It was kind of freaking Pearl out, if she was honest, how excited Grian seemed to be for her to meet some random guy. That look in his eyes was back again, and it made all sorts of warning bells ring in her head. Finally, Scott took the bait and sighed. “What’s so special about it, then?”
“Because…” Grian paused for dramatic effect. “You two…”
“Are soulmates!”
Pearl startled, blinking in surprise before turning to Scott and noticing the look of absolute, unfiltered <i>disgust</i> on his face as he stared at her, holding for just a moment too long before it smoothed over into a clearly fake smile. “Soulmates…?”
Well then, that was rude. Pearl wasn’t one to care too much about her appearance, exactly, but she was hardly something to recoil from! It was like the very idea of being connected to her repulsed him so much he couldn’t even afford her the common decency of being polite!
She was quickly deciding she didn’t like this man very much, glaring at him harshly. Scott stared back, icy blue eyes regarding her with clear distaste he couldn’t completely hide.
What an ass.
Grian’s hand grabbed her shoulder and his voice broke through her staring contest with Scott. “Is… something wrong? You don’t seem as excited as I thought you’d be?”
Pearl looked to Grian, staring up at her with wavering hope in his brown eyes. She felt a little bad for crushing his dreams, but she also didn’t want to get stuck with some asshole for the rest of what’s <i>supposed</i> to be her perfect afterlife. “Actually, Grian, I—"
“We’re just surprised, that’s all! I mean, soulmates! That’s a lot to take in, I didn’t think soulmates were real!” Scott interrupted her, getting up from his seat and taking a step towards them. She shot him a glare at his approach, and wanted to combust as he had the audacity to grab her hand at her side and hold it up between his own. “But I’m so happy to know that they are! Real, I mean. This is fantastic!”
He didn’t look her in the eyes once during his gushing, first staring at their hands and then turning to Grian and speaking to him. “Actually, if you don’t mind, could you maybe…?”
“Oh, yes, I can leave you two lovebirds alone!” Grian snickered with a wink that made Pearl shudder all the way down to her toes. “I actually should be getting back to my office, we’ve got a few more residents arriving soon! Scott, why don’t you bring her over to yours, and later I’ll come to show you two around the rest of the neighborhood?”
Scott nodded vigorously before Pearl could even open her mouth to interject, and suddenly she was being tugged alone by a vice grip on her hand. She stumbled along for a minute before she found her feet, and yanked her hand from Scott’s grip.
“What the hell was that about?! A little warning next time before you go dragging a stranger around!” She griped, rubbing her hand pointedly on her sweatshirt. Scott huffed, turning to face her with his arms crossed.
“But we’re not strangers, we’re <i>soulmates</i>. Apparently.” Pearl had never heard someone put so much vitriol into a single word like Scott had put into the word ‘soulmates’, and it lit the match on the anger that had been sitting at the bottom of her gut.
“What is your problem?! We don’t even know each other, are you just <i>that</i> disgusted by me that the idea of being soulmates revolts you so much!?”
“No! That’s—That’s not it, ok?” Scott sighed, dragging a hand down his face. “I’m sorry, it’s not your fault, I just… I heard some of the other people here talking about their soulmates like they were the most perfect romance they’d ever had, and I just… I got my hopes up too high.”
Pearl narrowed her eyes at him. “What, am I that ugly that you can’t even imagine falling in love with me? Yeah, great apology, that makes me feel so much better.” She bit out at him.
Scott sighed again, glancing around at their surroundings before leaning in towards her. “It’s not that! You’re pretty, and I’m sure you’re a great person and all that. It just… it won’t be romance. It can’t be."
“And why not?”
“Because I’m gay!” Scott hissed, and oh. Yeah, that would probably make romance between them a little… complicated. Not that she particularly cared – even with this revelation, she still felt slightly stung by his earlier reaction. Romance with Scott was not even on her radar at this point.
“Oh. Well, ok, fine, but you didn’t have to be so rude about it.” Pearl told him, and strangely noticed a tension relax from his shoulders, relief in his eyes as he watched her face. “Dude, did you think I was gonna be homophobic about it or something? Do I really give off that vibe?”
“You can never be sure. Some of the nicest ones turn out to be the worst. Better to make you hate me for a reason I could control.” Scott said, and Pearl feels her anger settle a little.
“Ah, so you were just acting bitchy to get me to leave first.” Pearl raised an eyebrow, and Scott grinned sheepishly. “Well, Scott, I can guarantee you now that there is no possibility of me falling in love with you like that, so maybe let’s leave that strategy behind us and be civil to each other from now on? We can be, I dunno, platonic soulmates or something.”
Pearl held out a hand, and Scott stared at it for a moment before shaking. “Right. Sorry about that, Pearl. You seem pretty cool, didn’t mean to hurt your feelings or anything."
They smiled at each other, and for the first time since arriving, Pearl felt settled in her own body. Maybe it was just the presence of another person – a real human, not whatever kind of being Grian was that looked human but clearly wasn’t – but she started to believe that she might actually enjoy being here.
After all, she made it to the Good Place. Everything was going to be fine.
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kira-anon-uwu · 5 months
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hi im screaming into the void in the hopes that it screams back, but hi my name is kira i am a nonthreatening bear thing online that writes mcyt fanfiction and would like more friends in the fandom
[ i am also 23 years old so please keep that in mind when interacting ]
here is me stuff and me most popular things about magical boy tommyinnit and friends, and an old dsmp one about bamf tommy running away and doing some king shit in a fighting arena
anyways i'm going to put another thing at the bottom here so this post is more visually interesting but hey if anyone wants to be fandom homies don't be afraid to message me or something
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ghost-format · 2 years
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There is simply not enough content of harpy Jimmy, and I am fed up with that
So I wrote a very short thing where he goes bird-brained
Tango and Grian are here and think it’s cute
Jimmy couldn’t help it, the way Tango was scratching under his chin made him melt. And it was very obvious by the way tango cooed over it, and the way Jimmy literally cooed back. “Aww, he’s a little bird-man. Grian! Come look at this!” Tango called over his shoulder. Jimmy hadn’t even realized that his bird brain, or harpy brain in this case, was properly taking over, and now he really couldn’t when all he was thinking about was the scritches Tango was giving him. Grian awed as-well “I need to take a video. He’ll be so embarrassed later” he said as he pulled out a phone.
Eventually, too soon in Jimmy’s opinion, Tango’s hand started to pull away, and Jimmy’s head followed until he couldn’t. He looked up at Tango with his dismayed and dilated eyes, and chirped a question Tango couldn’t understand. The two giggled at this, and Grian went to translate “He’s wondering why you stopped. Tim really does like those scritches” he giggled again.
“He’s like a big, feathery puppy” Tango commented, smiling down at Jim. “Like a baby bird” Grian agreed with a nod. Grian’s own bird brain seemed to like the phrase, zoning his focus onto Jimmy only and repeating himself “baby bird”. He blinked and shook his head “whoops, that triggered something. I’m gonna head out now, I doubt you want to deal with two giant birds” he chuckled before saying his goodbyes and leaving. Tango waved as he left with a “goodbye” and a “send the video to the big group-chat!”. Yep, Jimmy will absolutely be embarrassed later, Tango thought with a smirk. The smirk left as soon as a blur of yellow feathers tackled his previously waving hand to the ground, taking all of Tango down aswell “Jimmy!”.
The harpy in question was crouched on the ground, hovering over the hand in his own two, and staring cluelessly at Tango. Head empty, Tango thinks “You’ve not a thought in that head of yours, do you buddy?” and he huffed a soft laugh. Jimmy seemed to be content with that as an answer as he went back to staring at and playing with Tango’s hand, moving it about curiously.
Yep, baby bird, Tango mentally agrees with Grian’s earlier comment.
-
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vinnievonvino · 2 years
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I’ve noticed that when it comes to introducing Techno in mcyt fics, it can go in one of three(?) ways. So either:
1. Phil names Technoblade, because he’s a geek and cool bois should have cool names
2. It’s a name he earned in some underground fighting or gladiator ring
3. It’s a piglin name, and after learning some english he tells it to Phil
4. He named himself after living alone for a while, cool bois should have cool names. 
Most of these then generate a meeting between Techno and Tommy, in which Tommy tells him what a weird name he has. 
Although, a few others I’ve seen include:
-Tommy naming Techno, and Wilbur tacking on the “-blade” at the end for dramatic effect.
-He choose it for himself, and kept his real name a secret. (Like a regnal name in royalty aus or a hero/villain name in superpower aus)
-Named by a prophecy, and/or a vessel for the Blood God. Or he himself is the Blood God
-or he was just born with it, and no one questions it. 
If i missed any or if you’d like to add on to the list, feel free. 
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darubyprincx · 1 year
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i won
i fistfought ao3 while writing this fic so reblog it or get hit in the face at mach 5 by a christmas tree cookie shot from docm's creeper cannon
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sanguinescorpios · 2 years
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Still Alive
dream x f!reader
PART TWO
summary | Just under 20 years ago, the world slipped from humanity’s grasp and fell into the lap of mutant creatures. While most humans hid from the variants, some, like reader, grew restless in the bases they grew up in and needed out. What will happen when reader realizes that she doesn’t stand a chance in the wild on her own, and can something deeper blossom from a survival-based alliance?
warnings | reader has a hand kink but is in denial, slight mention of sexual harassment
word count | 2.2k
Dream didn’t live alone, I came to realize.
After a few more hours of cutting through the jungle and making one-sided conversation, we finally reached our destination. Well, Dream’s destination, I guess. I was kept out of the loop on that front. He led me down a jagged stone pathway and into what looked like an oasis. Sweeping branches and rocky cliffs encased a small body of water, a clear blue waterfall rushing down against the umber slabs and into the pool. Fish glimmered under the light of the setting sun, which was cast down through the canopy of trees above us, and birdsongs could be heard from every direction. It was breathtaking.
Nestled tightly behind the fall was Dream’s camp. The rock had been broken down over time, leaving behind a surprisingly homey shelter that was shielded by the fast-moving water. He made me walk first, trailing behind me as I navigated the slippery rocks and holding a hand out to catch me if I fell. So he can be nice, noted. When I reached the entryway of his camp, I was surprised to see two men staring back at me through the glistening water.
Both stood at a similar height, the one on the left a bit lankier than his counterpart on the right. The man on the right had hair that shone almost red under the sun, looking as if at one time it had been cut close to his scalp but had since grown out and been cut jaggedly into layers. His gray eyes reflected a look of shy intensity into my own, an emotion that shot right through me. He furrowed his brows at the sight of me, his chest puffing up ever-so-slightly and his back straightening to his full height. A sharp pink mark adorned the space below his left eye and, from the looks of it, it was a scar that wouldn’t let him forget its cause.
The other man looked gentle. His deep brown eyes sparkled with curiosity and the corners of his lips curled up with ease. His hair was just as dark as his eyes, wavy strands were swooped across his forehead and some were tucked behind his ears -- almost long enough to be tied back. His skin was clear and pure of the battle scars that most people had these days. It was the skin of someone who hadn’t worked a day in his life, but something told me it wasn’t for nothing -- he brought more to the table than any level of brawn could, I assumed. He addressed me first, his voice relaxed and cheery.
“You come here often?”
The stone-faced one rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest at the phrase, but his friend continued to giggle at himself. A smile pulled at my lips and I opened my mouth to respond, but Dream beat me to it.
“Picked up a stray,” he informed, jabbing a finger in my direction before moving past me and towards the fire.
I watched as he knelt down before the flame and removed his gloves, the tendons in his hands pulling against the skin and thick veins bulging all over. The light of the fire made his hands look like abstract art; cuts and scars littered his skin like a sort of splatter paint, like someone trying to recreate the stars in the sky. He rubbed them together and blew air against closed fists, letting the tips of his fingers hover over the fire to warm up. My eyes glazed over at the scene, the flickering flame blurring in the corner of my vision as he materialized into the only clear object in my line of sight. Hands like that could do plenty of things besides wield a weapon, though I didn’t mind a blade or two either. Wait, what the fuck? I tore my gaze away from him before I got lost in his galaxy of a palm, just in time to see his two friends looking between us in confusion. They stared for what felt like an eternity before the lankier one stepped forward.
“Well, since Dreamy here won’t introduce us: I’m George.”
I took his outstretched hand and gave him my name, matching his small smile with one of my own. His grip was warm and comforting. The handshake was a welcoming gesture rather than a cold formality, which is how I usually interpreted interactions like it. Before George, I had only shaken the hands of guards and soldiers. Authoritative hands lingering seconds too long and mature eyes wavering below my own, my juvenile body unsteady in my oversized and borrowed shoes. I shivered at the mere thought of them. Never again. The other man stayed back, his expression still unwaveringly stoic.
“That’s Sapnap,” George explained, unsatisfied with his friend’s hesitation, “he’s not usually this antisocial - well, actually he is.”
“Hey!” Sapnap called out, whacking George on the arm and reaching around him to shake my hand firmly, “Call me Sap.”
“Another interesting name,” I remarked, glancing at Dream for a split second before returning my gaze to Sapnap. What is it with these guys and weird fucking names? Sapnap shrugged, childish pride glazing over his eyes.
“I’m an interesting guy.”
This elicited a snort from across the room, Dream’s head shaking slightly as he met each of our eyes. Sapnap questioned him, wondering what was so funny, but the blond just laughed and carried on unloading his pack.
“I’m the cooler one, by the way.” George butted in, a cheeky smile covering his face as he patted Sapnap on the shoulder.
“What the fuck, dude?” Sapnap’s head whipped to the side to glare at his friend. The look in his eyes was that of someone who had just been slapped. George only cackled, stepping away from him and seeking out Dream for protection, who raised his hands in impartiality. They reminded me of the young boys from the city, always running around the perimeter of the walls laughing and play-fighting. Childish, carefree, happy.
I longed for that kind of freedom.
The men were still arguing when Dream called me over to him and shoved a warm bowl into my hands. He waved his hand through the steam to cool it off for me before giving me a blanket. It was tattered and so faded I couldn’t tell what color it had originally been, but it was warm. Giving me a once over and checking my eyes for any sign of discomfort, he stood up from his seat by the fire so I could overtake it.
“Eat.” He pointed at the bowl and I nodded.
I was so hungry I would probably eat anything, so I chowed down immediately. Food was a luxury these days.
The sun had just about set, our long trek from my makeshift camp had taken up most of the sunlight hours, and the men were settling into their places to sleep.
Three cots. Just three.
I nestled myself against a cavity in the wall, the fire and blanket keeping me warm enough. As I adjusted my sleeping position for the long night ahead, Dream appeared in front of me.
“You’re taking my bed.”
“I’m fine here, really,” I insisted, “I’m already taking up enough space just being here.”
He simply shook his head and pointed at the cozy cot by the fire. It was big and covered in an assortment of blankets. Dream slept like a king, they all did in comparison to city folk. Surely it was big enough for two, right? I thought back to the moment by the fire, Dream’s nimble hands under the golden light and the trance they put me in. As weary as the thought of sharing a bed with an attractive stranger made me, I wasn’t in the mood to inconvenience the giant masked man with an array of weapons at his hip.
“We can share,” I offered. Sapnap snorted and George shushed him not a second later, but my gaze stayed trained on Dream’s stern-looking mask. He contemplated the idea for at least a minute, tugging at a rogue curl by the nape of his neck and shifting his weight back and forth between his two legs. Eventually, he gave in.
“Fine, but only until we can get you your own shit.”
I ignored the insinuation that I had a more-than-temporary place here and instead allowed the thoughts of doubt to infiltrate my mind. He’s a stranger - he could kill me in my sleep! Does he take his mask off when he sleeps? Am I allowed to look? Should we form some sort of pillow wall?
Any and all concerns I had were squashed when Dream settled into the far left side of the huge cot, leaving me plenty of room to keep my distance. I waited until he finished getting comfortable and laid down myself, getting situated and relaxing with a hmph.
“Goodnight everyone!” George called out.
“Nighty night, don’t let the variants bite!” Sapnap replied. He was joking, but it sent a chill down my arms just the same.
Variants were a very real threat and based on Dream’s reaction to me sleeping out in the open last night, there was no shortage of them in this forest. Between the lingering threat of an attack and the complete strangers I had chosen as my comrades, I knew I wouldn’t get a wink of sleep.
I felt a hand rest on my hip before swiftly moving up to my arm. Oops. One slight squeeze let me know I was still shivering from the fear of Sapnap’s comment, and I relaxed my body at the touch. You’re safe, the touch insisted, and I attempted to convince myself of that, too. Maybe this Dream guy wasn’t so steely after all, I never would’ve expected this from him.
Removing his hand from my arm, Dream leaned over and blew out the small fire near our - his - cot, leaving just the larger one near the others beds lit. The world around me became much dimmer and as I closed my eyes, I heard the rustling of Dream’s body shifting and the small knocking of wood on slate.
His mask, I realized. The temptation to sneak a peek at his exposed face pulled at my conscience, but I squeezed my eyes closed tighter and turned the other way. Not tonight.
I tossed and turned all night, adjusting my position, counting sheep, imagining myself in my bed at the base - imagining myself safe - but nothing did the trick. It must have been the early hours of the morning when I gave up on sleep and rose from the cot. I rubbed the tiredness from my eyes and once I opened them, I was met with an empty side of the bed. Confused, I snapped my head in every direction and my gaze landed on a far rock hanging over the edge of the cliff we were all sleeping on.
There, sat Dream. Legs dangling off the edge of his makeshift seat, blond hair free from the confines of his mask and laying shaggy around his head. I couldn’t see his face from where I sat, the running water and dark morning obscuring my view, but I could tell he was deep in thought.
“Can’t sleep either?”
Dream jumped in his seated position, one hand holding himself steady and the other reaching for the dagger at his hip. I threw up my hands in surrender, even though he hadn’t turned around to see me, and stepped back from him.
“Easy tiger, it’s just me.”
He huffed and reached for his mask, placing the monstrosity back on his face before turning to meet my eye.
“Thought I’d make myself useful and keep watch,” he began, patting the space next to him as if inviting me to sit, “it’s Spring now. Variant season.”
I accepted his invitation and cautiously sat beside him. Having to grab his muscled arm to steady myself on the way down was only a tiny bit embarrassing. The sun had barely begun to rise, the moon still high in the sky and shining down on the two of us. A crescent, I recognized. Another thing Zoe had taught me.
“Do you always keep watch this time of year?” I asked between yawns, the lack of sleep finally getting to me. Dream nodded. We sat in silence for a moment before I spoke again, this time with an ounce of sleepy confidence.
“You can’t be much help to them during the day if you’re sleep deprived though, right?”
I chewed my lip and held my breath as he huffed again, what was I thinking? He muttered something under his breath about responsibility causing regret to fill my senses. Who am I to question this stranger’s workload? I don’t know him.
“Someone’s gotta do it,” he replied.
“Fair enough,” I said. Pushing it any further wasn’t a great idea, it’s none of my business.
Another yawn escaped my lips and I let my head fall to Dream’s shoulder. The lack of sleep had made me more trusting, apparently. His arm stiffened at the touch, his whole body going rigid as the weight of my body rested on him, but he eventually loosened up. The world began to dim again as the faint scent of firewood and spice filled my nose.
Goodnight, Dream.
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reader who's user on twitch (they don't stream) is like y/ngold and they send in a bunch of donations on stream like "hi i love you" "have a good day" etc etc and then when they reveal their relationship everyones like BFIEBDOEB
em, back at it again with the best fic ideas i’ve ever heard
in your defense-You didn't think anyone would actually see it. He has so many viewers, easily pulling 40k a stream, and you watch every single one-even if you're working, one screen spreadsheets, the other of him messing around-and trying to stay up with chat is dizzing.
to be fair, you didn't think he'd see it either at first. you showed him when you made the account, a big smile on your face-wilbybearfan1 which made his face flush pink and roll his eyes, but he smiled so big at you the entire time-
somehow, wilbur sees you in the chat.
the message comes in, and he reads it, this silly smile on his face that meets his eyes, sits a little straighter in his chair:
"Someone says: drink water, have a good day, i love you-" he turns to face the camera, "And that's an excellnt idea. Chat, everyone drink some water, cmon."
he leans back in his chair with a smirk, squeezing the plastic bottle into his mouth and you do the same, imagine that he was actually with you, not stuck in your office.
from there on, it becomes a tradition.
he doesn’t call you out by name, or username or anything, but every: “be safe i love you” and “hi i love you” or “if you hurt yourself with that fake gun i’m not bandaging you up” immediately followed by: “i love you i guess be safe”
people catch onto it.
the way he smiles, sits up a light straighter when your name is across the board, how he plays up antics with it
he doesn’t make a big deal of the announcement.
you finally have a day off work, cooking in the kitchen because it’s your favorite thing to do, music playing gently-
and wilbur is streaming but excuses himself, pulls your by your hand into the room and gently pushes you onto the chair.
“everyone, meet wilbybearfan1-“ he’s laughing as he says it, his hands tangled in your hair as he messes with it without a thought
you gasp, fake surprise, “Wil, you’re blowing my cover! they’re going to think i like you or something.”
“you like me?” he teases back, hands on either side of the chair armrests, practically towering over you, chat long forgotten and you hate that you can feel how red your face is.
“never.” you say back, and he rolls his eyes and leans in, kisses you on the lips.
chat freaks out, and it becomes a game to spot you in the chat, to call you the better Soot.
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itsonlydana · 2 years
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hi can you maybe write cc foolish with a s/o who overworks themselves?
"come to bed"➷ Foolish
➛ pairing: cc!Foolish x gn!reader (no pronouns mentioned)
➛ idea: you were so concentrated on your work that you didn't even notice how late it has gotten. If it weren't for Foolish you would have worked until dawn
➛ tags/warnings: fluff
➛ an: to anyone who might find themselves in this situation: take a small break, drink some water and maybe have some fruit <3 you can do this but your body needs rest as well to function properly!
➛ tagging: @icarusthefoolish
important links: rules + masterlist
🌿 reposts and comments are appreciated, they motivate me a lot and keep me writing <3
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The tapping of your fingers on the keyboard clacked through the quiet study, keeping you in the almost trance-like state of writing away, filling the document in front of you with sentences that were very likely to need complete revision in the morning. But you didn't have time for that right now, first of all you had to write something halfway meaningful at all. In nine days was the deadline for submitting this project and while that actually gave you enough buffer, you didn't want to fall behind your schedule. A schedule that was about to burst at the seams, like a slowly overboiling pot on the stove. Every time you looked at the paper diagonally next to you, it felt like there was more. 
Next to your desk was an untouched sandwich that you had long forgotten about, next to it three empty cups that you had drunk up so quickly that no coffee rim could form. They had been one of the desperate attempts to ignore the oppressive fatigue a little further-another paragraph....
Whenever you paused to close your slowly burning eyes for a few seconds, you regretted it, found it harder to open them again afterwards, and it was only the fear of not finishing in time that made you sit up and force yourself to erase the last typed words, a jumble of half-asleep typed letters, and rephrase it.
You didn't notice how it had quieted down in the bedroom next door, no half-shouted curses about miserable opponents in Overwatch flowing to you from under your door crack. Instead, there was the soft clack of a doorknob being pushed down, shuffling footsteps in the hallway muffled by a rug, and a soft tap of knuckles on the closed door of the study.
"Baby?"
At the voice of your boyfriend Foolish, raspy with fatigue, you jolted out of your trance of work. You leaned back in your chair smiling, ignoring the way your back pulled and your body yearned for your bed. At the sight of Foolish, the sluggishness disappeared for a moment. 
"Are you still streaming or have you stopped?" you asked him. After several hours of barely using your voice except for a few exasperated sighs and groans, the words rasped in your dry throat. 
Foolish stepped into the room, hands shoved into the pockets of his gym shorts, and shuffled up to you until he could lean down to rest his chin on your head. "Been done for half an hour, didn't you see my message?" 
Confused, you shook your head and reached into your pants pocket. Sure enough, twenty minutes ago Foolish had sent you a "ready, bed? :)" You hadn't noticed the vibrate. You looked from the phone back to the flickering monitor in front of you. "I'll be done in a minute, then I'll join you. Okay?", you gave him a smile, the corners of your mouth heavy with the fatigue that had spread throughout your body. 
Foolish didn't move though, just looked at you shaking his head. "Babe, it would be much better to continue working in the morning".
You too shook your head and turned back to the screen. "This can't wait Foolish. If I queue this up in the back too, I won't be able to finish the rest on the list either." For you, that was the end of the subject. You had explained to him why it was important to you to keep working and he would surely understand. Just to be on the safe side, you threw another "Go to bed already, I'll be up in a minute" over your shoulder. 
But Foolish mumbled weary disapproving noises in your ear, his nose pressed against your temple. "Bed," he mumbled, his lips pressed against your ear so that his warm breath tickled you. 
Sighing, you leaned your head back. "Foo-," you began, but were interrupted by his lips on your cheek. 
"Now," he murmured, a little more seriously. Foolish put his hand on yours on the mouse and guided the pointer to the "Save" box, which he clicked three times for safety's sake before shutting down - without a protest from you - your PC. As soon as the screen went black you felt a wave of relief that made your arms heavy. Your bones groaned as you slowly sat up, cracking free from the chair that had engulfed and taken you over the last few hours. Your legs were heavy as lead, each step a shuffle across the floor, and like every time you work far too late into the night, you immediately regretted it. 
But Foolish was there. Smiling, he took your hand in his, pulling you behind him out of the office and up to your bedroom, where you fell exhausted onto the covers. Foolish slid behind you, your back pressed against his chest, and buried his face in your neck. 
The last thing you heard before falling asleep was a soft, "I'm proud of you."
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cannedcrow · 2 years
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Flower Husbands Week 2022 - Snapdragons
A/N: I wanted to write at least a little something for this week. :) @flower-husbands-week
It was the flowers, not practicality, that had originally drawn the pair to their home. Blushing water lilies relaxed on the surface of the shallow pool that hollowed the mossy carpet of the valley, speckled by the stray petals of many a blossoming tree. Wildflowers of every kind grew in the soft grass, their names poetry alone - meadowfoam and celandine, forget-me-not, amaranthus and maylilies. Scott had quickly made it his mission to learn the names of every one.
The valley was a shelter, paradise amidst a land infested with death - death, which lurked over every hill, which hung in the air like smoke and poisoned every consciousness like ink in water. Death that clawed friendships apart, that hollowed hearts and blackened hopes.
But after any conflict, they had the hollow to return to. Sheltered by the ridge of birch trees, they could lounge in the soft grass as they discussed their alliances and worries, or sit in silence and watch the bees visit the snapdragons and foxgloves, tucking themselves snugly into each bell before flying off again. There was safety within the two houses, cut snugly into the cliffs with the water between them.
Autumn’s chill settled over the valley, and the flowers of spring and summer died, replaced by thick brambles that offered a wealth of blackberries as though in apology for the season.
“Do you think we’ll have to fight?” Jimmy asked. The two sat by the water’s edge, Scott mending a shirt while Jimmy idly examined a stem of snapdragons.
Tensions had risen, as expected, and both knew they’d soon be deeply entangled with the violence they’d so far evaded. Dogwarts and the desert dwellers were hellbent on razing eachother to the ground and seemed determined to drag those few who were unaligned with either group down with them. Their side - were they to take one - had been decided when Jimmy had burnt the Dogwarts banner in the face of the Red King.
Scott met his gaze, feeling the hairline-crack in his heart twinge at Jimmy’s troubled red eyes and ashen countenance. “Yeah, I think we will,” he agreed gravely.
“But we’ll always come back, alright?” Jimmy said solemnly, “No matter what happens, we’ll come back here and sit by the water again. Even- even if it’s just the two of us in the end.”
“Even if,” Scott agreed, fear and love welling in his heart and making his voice tremble. “Imagine if it were only us. We wouldn’t have to win or lose. There’s a life to be had here, you know? And I think we’re the only ones capable of taking it. I mean of being the final two; refusing to fight.”
“Then you promise? Promise we’ll come back here?” Jimmy proffered him the stalk of snapdragons, an unspoken token of agreement.
Scott regarded him for only a moment. “I promise.” He took the stem and tucked it behind one ear.
“Don’t you go back on that now!” Jimmy said, his grin only thinly veiled in sternness, “I’ll never forgive you if you break the Flower Vow.”
Jimmy spent a moment vainly struggling to craft a portmanteau of ‘flower vow’ before resignedly lying back in the grass.
Scott snickered and resumed his sewing. “I wouldn’t break a promise. Not to you.”
-
The valley was quiet as Scott reached the cliff edge, waiting as peacefully as ever for them. For him. His footsteps were heavy as he descended the path, sword dragging behind him, red with drying blood he hadn’t bothered to clean. He sat by the waters edge, the grass sun-warmed and the water mockingly beautiful, glinting with the late evening sun.
He felt suddenly that he wanted to curl up and crawl out of his armour, and he began to shed it piece by battered piece. The diamond he’d worked so hard for was unrecognisable under the dust and sand, the smears of soot from a desert that had been heaved skyward with explosives, and the blood of those who’d been unlucky. He was aware of his own blood drying uncomfortably on the side of his face and pulsing weakly from several wounds that stained his clothes and protested their neglect with stabs of pain.
He could go inside and rest, care for his wounds and prepare for the next battle. But the sight of the two houses was too cruel - two inviting doorways that waited patiently for their owners, unknowing that one of the valley’s residents would not return.
Something fell lightly on Scott’s hand, and he looked down to see the stalk of snapdragons, wilted and tragic in too short a time. He thought how strange it was that they’d fallen from his hair only now. He examined the flowers blankly, meeting the gaze of a cluster of grinning skulls, bloodless petals curled into delicate bone.
What a terrible thing it is to love what death can touch.
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lexinivison · 2 years
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·˚˖ 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗺 𝗮𝘀 𝗼𝗹𝗱𝗲𝗿 𝗯𝗿𝗼𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿𝘀
– ❛ 𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐋𝐔𝐃𝐄𝐒 : Ted, charlie, schlatt.
– ❛ 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: how the chuckle boys are as older brothers
– ❛ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: cursing, not proofread.
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*.₊.˚꒰:: SCHLATT !
he's 100% the type of brother to randomly call you in the middle of the night or day, just to call you a bitch or ask you a dumbass question and then hang up
he insults you like crazy, but obviously you know he doesn't mean it and just jokes around with you. But if anyone else insults you he goes full on overprotective brother mode.
he loves to make fun of the fact that he still has to help you with math homework, and he laughs even harder when you fail the class because he gave you the wrong answers on purpose.
but just because he makes fun you on a daily basis, doesn't mean that he doesn't care for you because he does.
he likes to have a movie night or a gaming night with you every once in a while. and then proceeds to yell at you and rage at the TV because you are winning at the game
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*.₊.˚꒰:: TED !
this man absolutely loves to pick on and bully you at any given time. but it's a way of him showing affection towards you, in his own ways.
he likes to hide you from the media because people can be ruthless sometimes, and he's seen people talk and make fun of you before. so he doesn't like to show you on social media, unless you say you are comfortable with being on camera.
but people obviously know you exist and have seen you in a couple of his videos. And Truthfully people like you more than him ..
it's weird but he loves to help you with any kind of homework that you need help with, you have a math problem? Oh look Ted is right there to help you, getting stressed with homework? Ted is right there pulling you away from it and watches a movie with you instead.
absolutely loves to hangout with you and plus his girlfriend. because he likes the way you both get along. and then he later on regrets it because you both bully him so much
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*.₊.˚꒰:: CHARLIE !
he is the most sweetest brother ever, that is until he starts to pick and yell on you and then that's when he's not so sweet. But of course he doesn't mean it in a rude way, only in a joking way.
loves to have random gaming nights with you and staying up all night playing dying-light two, that is until grace comes into the room like mother yelling at you both to go to bed.
Also loves to gives you any free merchandise that you want
baking competitions are a must between the two of you and you both try to make the world's most disgusting cupcakes, cookies or cake.
honestly he is like Ted, he doesn't like to show you that much on camera considering that you are younger than him and also the last time he showed you on camera, people made a bunch of disgusting comments about you.
whenever it comes to homework he just looks at the work, says 'wtf is this' and then walks away without helping you.
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cleverpaws · 1 year
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HEY CAN WE NORMALIZE WRITING ORIGINAL MINECRAFT FANTASY SHIT????/ NOT MCYT FANFIC LIKE. JUST MINECRAFT FANTASY. LIKE MINECRAFT BUT FAE ARE A THING????
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