Hey guys, this was bound to happen sooner or later, especially with how inactive I have been the past month.
I will be inactive in this account because I simply do not have the motivation to write for mcyt and also because of my upcoming senior high exams. I have not left the fandom but I've chosen to not write for them anymore. though, I have a different writing account which I'm very much active on so for anyone (namely my mutuals) willing to add me then you can dm or send in an ask.
technoblade was an inspiration to so so many. he was proof that you can be funny and kind, passionate and genuine. he made an everlasting impact on not just the mcyt community but the internet as a whole. the loss here is immeasurable and i hope that god does hesitate, just a little.
God I fucking hate Olaf the snowman so fucking much holy shit. Holy shit, every frame he's in, every scene, every gif, every jpeg, he's got this painfully vacant, stupid as shit, fuckass look on his stupid lumpy face. Absolutely no part of his ugly as sin piece of shit character design is endearing. His stupid fucking legs? Who the hell makes a snowman with legs. His dumb flaily fucking twig arms? His shitty, lumpy bastard head? The three thousand percent unnecessary dumbass shitass fucking SNOW BUCK TOOTH that no snowman has EVER FUCKING HAD IN tHE HISTORY OF GOD'S GREEN FUCKING EARTH? God, I hate him. I hate him so much. So FUCKING much. Every time I see a stuffed toy Olaf or an Olaf gif or a shitty goddamn commercial, it ignites my primal rage response and I'm overcome by the need to punt this shitty little homunculus into the fucking sun. "Bhurr blur, I'm Olaf the fuckshit snow fucker, I like warm hugs". Fuck you. Fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you. You look like Tow Mater summoned a patronus. Your dumb fucking twig hair makes your whole shitty head look like a hairy skin tag. I hate your dumb fucking lumpy carrot nose and your stupid, empty googly eyes and your over-the-top goofy ass upbeat asshole personality. Any scene he's sad it invokes all the wrath and fury of a spoiled child having a meltdown over a chocolate bar in a w*lmart checkout line. And I know its irrational. That's the worst part. I know he's just a shitty fucking side character in a stupid fucking children's movie, I know it doesn't matter, I know I shouldn't care. But that's part of the problem. The part where no matter the might and fury of my hatred, the locus of my homicidal intent is alltogether inconsequential. I find myself laying awake in the dark in the early hours of the morning consumed by the spirit of Wrath itself, all the force and might of a flaming hurricane directed at a bottle of piss in a ditch by the highway. The absurdity of it all burns me to my core. What better things could this energy be directed towards? And yet my disdain for this stupid, useless, insubstantial failure of endearing character design utterly eclipses the intrigue of all other pursuits. I hate him. I hate him on a level of my mind reserved for the worst of the world's array of sinners, and I can't even begin to justify it. Shitstick the snow dick is, for all intents and purposes, the animated corpse of all of humanity's saccharine pretenses- every condescending, passive-aggressive statement of meaningless upper middle class suburban drama distilled into a single, hateable form. The fucking. Fuck. I have no words. There is no cuss or epithet in any language that can encapsulate the height of the emotions I am experiencing. God, I hate him so much. I hate him so, so fucking much. I want to light his ugly little dumpster body on fire. I want to graphically beat him to death with his own stupid fucking nose. I want to punch him to death. You know that weird feeling you get, when you see a picture of something so cute you find yourself overcome with the bizarre, inexplicable urge to squeeze it? It's EXACTLY like that, except instead of cuteness it's disgust. The wordless knowledge that his existence as a fictional work is evidence of all the failures of mankind. I find myself possessed by the will of a Holy Angel gone rogue with the belief that God has made a mistake, and I alone must correct it. This is the trial by which Samael himself fell from grace. This wild, meaningless rage. A thousand blades of shining steel cast with inhuman force in the direction of a plastic grocery bag floating on a breeze. What horrors must I have committed in a past life to be plagued by this torment now? I must Unmake this fictional snowman
Summary: Kazuha—the most charming man in Tevyat—has freckles that could rival the starry night sky.
Warnings: none.
Notes: I love the headcanon that Kazuha has freckles because he stays outside a lot, and the sun gave him freckles. I just want to trace them like those dot-to-dot coloring books.
Kazuha has freckles. It litters his face and it is most noticeable under the bright Tevyat sun, where the sunlight hits his figure, and illuminates his countenance.
Often you find yourself staring a bit too long at the ronin, sort of mesmerized with the group of freckles that reminded you of stars. Perhaps, Kazuha might be an embodiment of Celestia himself.
"You have been staring too long, Love." He whispers, as his bandaged hand tucks stray hairs from your face. "Do tell me what's in your pretty mind."
Your eyes widen when you realized you'd been dazed, not paying attention to anything he was saying a while ago. Your eyes wander along his face, while your mouth was finding words to say. "Zuha, have I ever told you how beautiful you are?"
He tilted his head and hummed, clearly interested in whatever you were going to say. "Do tell."
Your finger touches one of his freckles, slowly tracing one freckle after another, "I see the galaxy on your face, do you know how pretty it is? I could trace the constellations on your face and they'd look as wonderful as the ones we see in the night sky—maybe even more beautiful than them in comparison."
You're now cupping his face before you planted a chaste kiss on his cheeks. "So pretty indeed, the most charming in all of Tevyat," you whispered.
Kazuha chuckles and his smile reaches his eyes, "My, I've started to rub off on you, haven't I? Did not expect the day you would ever become such a poet yourself." He teases, setting his hands on top of yours that was holding him.
"How could I help myself? Not when I have the perfect muse in front of me."
"And what must I do to repay my beloved's kind words?" He takes one of your hands from his cheeks and kisses them. "I must find a way to reciprocate this gesture somehow."
You hummed, "A kiss would suffice."
"A kiss you shall receive, " He says with a wink, before placing your hand back on his cheek. He then places his lips on yours and kisses you until you can feel your soul melting down under his soft lips. Yes, he is truly the most charming boy in Tevyat.
‘minecraft, but…’ chapter thirteen | series masterlist
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series playlist ( listen for better experience, 99% guaranteed )
WARNING: nothing i think. second-hand embarrassment probably. not proofread lol.
SUMMARY: he’s acting weird. you’re acting weird. the birthday celebration will definitely be weird.
NOTES: they’re gonna get way more flirty starting here, just warning you. hope you enjoy love u bye.
The day after your pictures with Dream blew up, he streamed, clarifying everything that had happened during everyone’s arrival in Florida ( specifically, his home ).
Of course, the disappointment the fans held was unavoidable. They obviously wanted more content from their favorite streamers, but Dream managed to sweet-talk them into looking forward to more IRL content since his face is revealed and everything. They agreed in less than a second.
And the entire stream, Dream has ignored messages waving concerns about you and Dream’s ‘date’.
You expected this, obviously. Neither of you know what you two are, so it doesn’t feel right to address then confirm suspicions that you two were, in fact, on a date ( but not date in that way, right? ). It was just two ( ex ) faceless content creators separated from their content creator friends, who very much had their faces out in the open already.
Dream confirmed it was him in the picture. He didn’t confirm nor deny if it was you beside him.
You don’t know why you’re disappointed, honestly.
You shouldn’t be. In fact, you should be grateful he’s protecting what’s left of your anonymity. So why does it bother you so much that he didn’t agree to the fact you were with him alone?
It doesn’t matter now, so whatever.
What matters now, is that the group are all streaming Jackbox at the moment, making up for all the missed content. They don’t have their face cams on, because Dream mentioned he’s not sure he’s entirely comfortable leaving his face out like that. And as good friends, they respected his words.
“Stop fucking bringing Y/N up every prompt!” Quackity yells into his mic, as Karl cackles out when the prompt flashes on the screen. “What are you? In love?”
“What— No! Quackity,” Dream sputters while Karl laughs harder. “This— The prompt is just perfect; it has nothing to do with—” He’s not making sense anymore. “You can’t keep saying that. You all have used Y/N in every prompt more than me. This is literally the second time I did it!”
“Third, actually,” George corrects him.
“Shut up, George,” Dream hisses, his voice trailing off at the end when everyone starts laughing at him. The way he sounds right now reminds you of when he got flustered that time—and, well, you should seriously stop thinking about that.
They’re so obsessed with you. And you aren’t even in the call.
The stream continues for a few more minutes, getting stupider each prompt the more the boys play and get tired. It seems as if they’re getting delusional, more than anything. George is laughing at everything, Sapnap keeps yawning, Karl has been reduced to nonsensical pee jokes, and Quackity is just making fun of Dream.
You wish you could’ve joined the stream, but it’d probably get worse if you did, so you’ll just reek envy from afar.
Until you’re ready, or whatever Dream said.
You didn’t even register the stream ending until you got a knock on your door.
Dream opens the door and stands there, slumped shoulders and defeated smile; and it’s probably because of everyone ganging up on him the entire game, which is well-deserved. You faintly remember Quackity taunting him for losing despite pandering to the audience; you can agree.
“What are you doing here?” you ask him, setting your phone down to hide all evidence of you watching the stream. Because you weren’t. Obviously.
He sighs. “Patches ran to you when I tried cuddling her again.”
Patches has not once entered your room today. “She’s not even here,” you muse.
He flops on your bed, arms spread out like a starfish. “Oops,” he says, giving a non-committal shrug. The bed creaks under his weight. “Why is your bed better than mine. It’s, like— softer.” Dream sits up in realization. “Wait, why actually is your bed softer than mine? I swear we have the same one.”
You give him a shrug back. “Probably because you pissed on your bed too many times.”
Dream seems to be content with that answer, flopping back. “We should switch rooms.”
“And give me your pee-infested bed? No, thank you.”
Dream rolls his eyes playfully. “Oh, come on. This is not even the same house.”
“Oh yeah?” You fail to hide a smile at his enthusiastic nod. “Then why do you wanna sleep on my bed so bad, huh?”
His mouth opens instinctively, but no words come out. He stays silent, and you take it as your victory. He stares with a weird smile, before looking away when you catch him looking at you.
“Are you feeling better?” he asks, still not quite meeting your eyes, but the softness in his voice is enough to tell you he’s being genuine.
You end up lying beside him, staring at the blank ceiling. “Yeah.” When you crane your neck to take a peek, he’s already staring at you again; but you don’t call him out for it, afraid that he’ll walk away from your room. “You?”
Dream shrugs. “I don’t really care. I was— Well. We were all worried about you,” he confesses quietly. “I know you don’t, you know. Didn’t want that to happen.”
“What are you acting so sappy for?” you tease, hoping to ease the tension and steer the attention away from you before your cheeks boil, and your soul melts. “I thought we’re supposed to hate each other. Did you forget to commit to your rivalry bit?”
Dream scoffs, nudging you with his elbow. His cheek is in plain view. “Well, rivals don’t kiss each other.”
You gasp in mock offense, cheeks heating up as he starts to giggle. “I thought I told you to not talk about that!” And even more flustered: “Don’t say it like that, Dream! You’re making it sound weird.” If Quackity heard this conversation, you wouldn’t be hearing the end of it even more than Dream is already making it.
Dream raises his hands in surrender. “Hey, if your mind thinks I meant on the lips, then that’s on you. Not me.”
You hate that he has a point. You hate that your heart is racing right now.
You look away from him. “Are you seriously not going to be forgetting about that? Are you sure I’m the one who can’t stop thinking about it?”
Dream sits up, out of nowhere. “Patches is probably hungry.”
You watch him leave with a triumphant and stupid grin.
“Damn, who’s trying to bite his ass?” Quackity mutters, boredly watching Dream fumble with his car keys, his face covered with sunglasses, mask, and beanie. He must be sweating a lot underneath that.
You snicker from beside Quackity.
Dream shoots him a quick glare, his eyes straying away for a moment to you—before he turns away, too quick to be considered casual. “No one is. I just want some fresh air.” He opens the door. “Your stench is suffocating me.”
Quackity gasps. “What the fuck!” You watch as he tries to crane his neck to smell his armpit, while Dream closes the door.
“You do need a shower,” you tell him.
Dream said earlier he’s going out to buy food for Patches, meaning he will be out for quite a while, and Sapnap had wasted no time pulling all of you into the living room to have a group meeting, the room dark except for the lamp that Sapnap probably stole from George’s room.
His face is glowing from the lamp, making this seem more disturbing than it’s supposed to be. “So.”
Everyone shares a look. “So…”
Sapnap grins, shushing George with a finger, who hasn’t even said a word. “Have any of you come up with any plans yet? I was coming up with some during the stream.”
Karl brightens immediately. “Oh! Oh! I wrote one on my notes app two days ago; I bet you’ll love this one.” Without another word, he pulls out his phone from his pocket and tugs Sapnap closer to him so they can read out whatever he wrote down.
“Wait, what’s going on?” you ask George, who’s swiping through his notes app, too.
George glances at you, curious. “We’re planning for Dream’s birthday.”
“Dream’s…” Your eyes widen. “Oh shit!”
You’re not sure why it completely slipped your mind, when literally this is the reason you came to Florida for. Though, with everything that’s happening, no one can blame you. You admit you feel bad for not thinking ahead and buying him a present, though.
“We have plenty of time to plan a surprise party,” George affirms, patting your head. “Besides, Dream isn’t the type to want something massive.” The brunet offers you a half-hearted smile, eyes glinting. “You should’ve been there when Dream complained about how that day got interrupted.”
You’re hit with a pang of guilt. “Oh.”
That day was probably the last day he could go outside without worrying about people swarming him. That’s not the most ideal birthday present you could’ve given him. And you don’t even have anything to give him!
George shakes his head. “He said that was one of the best days of life.”
Oh?
“Him getting… doxxed— that’s one of the best days of his life?” you repeat in genuine confusion. He must have a pretty damn depressing life then.
His face twists into something indecipherable. “What? No, that’s not what— I meant—”
“Okay, okay, enough about that!” Sapnap exclaims, slinging an arm over George’s shoulder to pull him closer. “Do you think Dream will appreciate us trashing his swimming pool? Yes or no, be honest.”
“Absolutely not,” George scoffs.
“Great!” Sapnap claps once. He points at your best friend, who’s decided to snuggle up on the couch while all of you are deep in conversation. “Quackity, how long do you think you can distract Dream?”
Quackity pretends to hum thoughtfully. “Three seconds, tops.”
Karl whistles lowly. “Is it really that bad?”
“Hey, it’s not my fault he’s too much of a pussy to stay in a room with me for even two seconds,” Quackity mutters, unaware—or just completely forgot—of all the times he’s done nothing but taunt Dream, the poor guy. “I say you pick Y/N.”
Everyone turns to you. You frown. “Hey, wait—”
Sapnap nods slowly, staring at you with narrowed eyes, before he lights up and nods faster—as if he’s just understood something you don’t. “You can do thirty minutes, right? Just give us enough time to set everything up, then I’ll pay you.”
“Pay Y/N? As in, money?” Quackity squawks, insulted. “Where was this offer when you chose me—”
“You are not making me lock Dream up in a room,” you grumble, tipping your chin up in defiance. “He will be too suspicious that I’ll willingly stay in less than six feet from him. This is stupid.” Without much thought, you point at Karl. “Why not him?”
Karl counters back. “Why not you? Huh? Are you nervous?” The smile that spreads across his face is teasing.
“You are so—” You cut yourself off with a deep breath when Karl lifts a brow, urging you to continue—choosing to send them a sharp glare instead. “Fine. I’m only agreeing to do this because I forgot to buy him a present. Nothing else, understood?”
Sapnap chuckles. “Understood.” He definitely doesn’t believe you.
a/n: *leans on expensive car* hey bbg ready your horses because there will be another kissing scene that i definitely didnt get too flustered writing
i know i ask this everytime, but i would really appreciate it if you leave a comment or just put your thoughts in the tags when you reblog!
trust me when i say i read every single one (even if its from an old post) because it’s really what keeps this series going! believe it or not, the only reason why i’m continuing this series is because of all your kind comments and support. so thank you.
taglist is moved to a completely separate post because tumblr hates me :)
3 with c!quackity and c!karl x reader
as you can see, i live for the drama
- 🥞
you’re the one that i want (at the end of the day)
c!quackity x reader x c!karl
2.4k event masterlist | event playlist
number 3 landed on END OF THE DAY
notes: i'll give you drama. ALSO THIS ISNT PROOFREAD LOL
summary: love burns; you’re just not sure who will make it hurt less
warnings: angst, unhealthy relationships. i honestly dont know what i was going for here, so its self-indulgent
loving karl is easy enough.
he’s sweet, kind, and he’s everything you could ever love and more. he doesn’t hesitate to say the same, because you both know he feels the same.
he’s soft hands and softer eyes when you feel cold and need some warmth. he’s soft hair and softer cuddles when you’re feeling too rough around the edges—that’s what love is, and what it’s supposed to be.
you are both loyal to each other, giving endless love no one else could ever mount.
but then the day came that karl disappeared without a word and you went out to look for him, reaching far past kinoko and into a desert.
worry radiates from you in waves, alerting critters who hide behind bushes at the sight of your anxious eyes.
“where are you?” you whisper to yourself, clutching his pocket watch closer to your chest, as if that will somehow bring him back one way or another.
it doesn’t.
snow melts on your nose, bringing out an involuntary shiver as you blink at the sight of flashing lights and tall buildings. confusion outweighs worry in an instant, reluctant feet stepping closer as you’re drawn in like a moth to a flame–-it feels as if karl’s presence is here.
but this is new.
“hey.”
you jump out of your skin, hands clammy as you turn around to see a figure standing right behind you, as if he’s been there the entire time.
breath escapes from your lungs. “you’re his friend.”
quackity grins. “you’re y/n.” he steps closer.
you know quackity; of course you do. who wouldn’t? he’s fierce eyes and calloused fingers, spitting fire in each word, venom laced with that grin. he’s quackity, someone that karl says you shouldn’t trust now that he’s changed, yet you can’t find it in yourself to run.
“did you— do you know where karl went, quackity?” you ask instead of replying, mouth dry as he smiles wider with another step forward.
“no,” he replies simply, and there’s truth to it. “why? did he leave again?”
you laugh, because you’re not sure how else to respond—what you’re supposed to fucking say. “yeah, um. he tends to do that. not as long as this one, though, so i got worried. and—” he’s too close now; you’re panicking slightly, “—you know, ended up here—which i’m sorry about, by the way—”
quackity stops. “don’t be. he’s fine; you don’t have to worry so much. you’re the only one who hasn’t seen las nevadas, right?”
“...no.”
his smile is too charming. your heart aches at the thought of karl. “then let me give you a tour before he comes back then.”
las nevadas feels like a rush of cold air.
it’s too different from what you’re used too; a little overwhelming and startling, but you stay rooted on your spot, unable to tear your eyes away from flashing lights and spinning coins.
“you and karl,” quackity starts, flipping a coin constantly—and it’s put you in a trance, almost, hypnotized, “how long have you been together?”
the question surprises you. he’s been mostly quiet the entire time, showing you places and explaining why he’s put them there—and you’ve noticed it seems like karl is a bitter subject for him. you want to get on his good side; it’s his country, after all, so you only kept your thoughts to yourself.
well, until now.
“about… two years.”
quackity nods. “and you don’t know about what karl is hiding?”
you frown. the front gates slam open, but all your attention is on the way your stomach dropped. “no, karl wouldn’t hide anything from me. he’s not like that.” to you, maybe, but not to me.
“then you don’t know about him killing a part of himself without even thinking about you?” quackity sneers, bitterness washing over his face—a glimpse of emotion that isn’t smug. “because i can tell you all about it.”
then, his eyes flick up, before darkening.
an arm wraps around your torse, pulling you backward onto a chest. “y/n,” karl breathes out, “what are you doing here?”
you turn around to meet his eyes, desperate for an answer. “is it true? you’re keeping something from me…?”
karl’s silence is enough of an answer. the way his face twists, hesitant, then guilty; it has your heart shattering on the ground, lost at words. “i thought it would be better if you didn’t have to know. i didn’t— i don’t want you to worry about it.” he moves to cup your cheek; you flinch away, and he recoils. “i’m sorry—”
“i’ll give you a choice, y/n,” quackity interrupts, making the both of you turn. you with your hurt expression, and karl with his scowl. “you could continue to live with karl, maybe convince him to stop what he’s doing before he leaves you. not that it’ll work though,” he laughs.
karl huffs. “quackity—”
“or,” quackity cuts him off, “you could choose to be here. in las nevadas. where you don’t have to worry about me disappearing any day; or any time soon, really.”
karl shakes his head, pulling you closer back to him, even though it doesn’t work as you stay planted on your spot. “don’t listen to him, y/n. i can explain everything. come back home, please. i’ll give you answers.”
scars lift as quackity grins. “it’s all up to you. who would you rather be with at the end of the day?”
A/N: dude i dont know what happened here just take it
‘minecraft, but…’ chapter twelve | series masterlist
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series playlist ( listen for better experience, 99% guaranteed )
WARNING: a little heavy at the start, but it gets very lighthearted at the end, so read until there!
SUMMARY: dream’s nice… that was the only reason you did that, alright?
NOTES: this chapter was seriously so hard to write so it took so long im sorry :(
The house is cold when you and Dream have arrived.
You won’t lie and say that you still feel safe even when you’ve stepped inside; no, because you still feel nerves spike in your gut as you look around, feeling as if all eyes are on you, but it’s just Dream holding onto you.
His warmth eases you a tiny bit.
However, the cold breeze that hits your face when he swung the door open does not.
Quackity is standing a few feet away from the door, foot suspended mid-air, most likely because he was running his way here. George and Karl sit next to each other on the couch, both of them on their phones, checking each other’s screens until they completely stop at the creak of the door. Sapnap just walked in, a plate of sandwiches in hand.
“Alex,” you murmur, reluctantly slipping off of Dream’s grasp to crash onto Quackity’s chest.
“Y/N!” he exclaims back, worry etched on his face as if it’s been stitched there. “Are you okay? God, I was so fucking worried!”
“I’m okay,” you promise, loosening the knots in your shoulders as you say so. “I’m okay, I promise.” When you pull away, Quackity seemed like he didn’t want to let go. “Are you okay?”
Quackity huffs. “I’m not the one who got fucking doxxed in a mall.”
You look at the floor. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be.”
Karl stands up and offers you a sandwich, and you’re not really in the mood to eat anything at all, but you don’t want to be rude—so you take it with a small, grateful smile. He pats your shoulder with a sad one.
“What now?” George asks from the couch. He’s been twisting the string of his hoodie the entire time. He looks just as nervous as you feel, and you appreciate that they all feel sympathy. You’re not used to it coming from a lot of people.
They all turn to you for a reply.
“Oh!” You blink. “Um, well. I’m not sure.” You’re not sure when the hood of your top went up, but you pulled it down. “I never planned on… you know. Revealing my face. So this was a surprise.”
They all look at each other in understanding. Quackity hugs you a little bit tighter, before pulling away to see your face clearly. “I’m sorry. I’m never letting you out of my sight again.”
That brings a small laugh out of you, and Quackity’s chest puffs, proud of himself for lightening your mood even just a little bit. “It’s not your fault. I’m feeling better now than earlier, thank you.”
If anything, they should be worried about Dream. He’s the most popular one out of everyone in this room, and his face has just been exposed to the media—and is probably still blowing up as you speak.
“Dream…?”
Dream, who’s been staring at you worriedly the entire exchange, snaps out of his daze. “What? Huh?”
You tilt your head. “Are you okay?”
He shrugs. “I was already planning to face reveal soon… since, you know, everyone’s here. I’m not that bothered— just not. Expecting it to be today, um.”
You nod. “Yeah.”
Dream finally tears his eyes away from you, eyes cast to the floor. “I’ll be right back. Check up on Patches.”
Then he leaves without another word. Sapnap shakes his head at the worry that flashes on your faces, sending all of you a knowing look that says ‘he’s gonna be fine’.
“This is very stressful,” George inputs helpfully.
“No shit,” Karl laughs bitterly.
Quackity glances at your sandwich, smiling sadly, and taking it from you; you offer him a thankful smile. “Let’s put this on a plate so you can eat it later,” he says, leading the both of you to the kitchen counter.
“You know what’s funny? My face was shown, sure, but his face was revealed more than mine—and yet, he worried more about me than himself.” You breathe in deeply, feeling sick at the sight of the food. “So, was I being dramatic, or is it just beca—”
“Dream’s just really nice,” Quackity finishes for you.
“...Yeah.”
Quackity nudges you, and there’s an unreadable glint in his eyes that feel like it’s speaking words you don’t want to name. “You should go thank him.”
You knock twice on his door. It takes three seconds for him to respond.
“Come in,” Dream murmurs, loud enough in the quiet house for you to hear.
You push the door open, seeing Patches curled up on his lap as he smooths the hair over her head. Patches meows at your presence as a greeting, though she doesn’t move from her spot. You smile and greet her back, “Hi, Patches.”
Dream watches you sit down next to him, on the floor right beside his bed. “Did something happen?”
“I was going to ask you the same thing,” you tell him honestly, gently batting his hand away so you can pat Patches’s head instead. “Were you being honest earlier? When I asked you.”
“Of course,” he says, and his tone affirms that there is no trace of lie. “I’m worried about you, though. I know you’re not really… You don’t want to put yourself out there as much as I do. I feel like I messed up.”
Oh.
“Is that what this is about?”
Dream winces. “Sorry.”
It scares you how different Dream can sound—not in any physical way, but in a way where you’re starting to feel like you can’t keep on lying to yourself about him the more he speaks to you this way. Too soft, too knowing.
You feel like it’s not so bad to let yourself be vulnerable; you need it as much as he does.
“Quackity and I have been best friends before he started doing YouTube,” you tell him; he frowns, confused by this slingshot of information, but lets you continue anyway. “And it’s never really been a problem, but when he said he wants me to experience how fun content creation is, that’s when I realized that there is a gap between him and me.”
Dream hums. You feel fingers card through your hair this time, and you do the same motions to Patches.
“He’s never afraid, you know; never has been. That’s what I, and a lot of people, like about him. But the first hate I got affected me a lot, then it kept going and going—and, well, maybe it’s because I was never prepared for it—” your laugh sounds hollow, “—but there was a time when Alex had to fight his own fans for me. And I never wanted that. He looks like he enjoys what he does; I didn’t want to ruin that for him.”
He hums. You want to lay your head on his shoulder, but that’s probably too much. You recoil at the thought.
“Since I was such an easy target, they picked on me. And maybe it’s better that way, because I have an excuse to let Alex do what he’s best at: to shine.”
“Did you like streaming?” Dream asks in a whisper.
“I did,” you rest your forehead against his shoulder, dizzied by the warmth radiating off him, “and I also like the one recently. I didn’t know that I’d enjoy it, even after what happened. But I did. I thought it would go well, if things continue this pace.”
“Dream,” you tremble, “what if they hate me again?”
He shifts, a sharp movement to show a reaction, but he doesn’t say anything.
“What if… when I start thinking that maybe I can get back to it, I’ll just be proven wrong? And if they see my face, I—” You shudder, then clear your throat. “I don’t know if I can start over again. I can’t run from this—this is what they’ll know me as. I can’t go out because they know me now.”
You find the courage to look him in the eyes. “I don’t know if I can handle what they’ll say about my face. Not when they already say all of that about… just my voice, you know?”
This time Dream speaks. “You know what I think?”
“...What?”
“I think you believe that this is your fault, even when none of this was in our control,” he says. “If anything, you should feel angry, for people to break your boundaries like that.”
You smile slightly. “I don’t really feel angry at them.”
Dream huffs. “Then I’m angry for you.”
“You’re an idiot.”
“What!” he exclaims in disbelief; you’re relieved to see his grin again. “I’m trying to protect you here!”
The silence that comes next is comfortable, because none of you really need to say anything else. Quackity’s right, you should probably thank him, but that’d feel like it’s disingenuous if you just blurt it now. Patches meows in complaint when you’ve stopped scratching her head.
“Y/N?”
“Yeah?”
“We’ll be okay. We don’t have to do anything until you’re ready to say anything to them.”
He is so annoying.
You hate him, you’ve decided, as your heart bursts with an unrecognizable feeling. You hate that he’s acting like this, instead of giving you a reason to loathe him with every bone in your body.
You hate him so much… that your lips end up on his cheek.
“I— um.” His face is too red, eyes wide and dazed. “Wait, uh— that’s.”
You probably look as flustered as he is. “Thanks for everything you did for me today… you dumbass.”
a/n: THIS TOOK SO LONG ahah sorry ive been having a hard time writing lately
i know i ask this everytime, but i would really appreciate it if you leave a comment or just put your thoughts in the tags when you reblog!
trust me when i say i read every single one (even if its from an old post) because it’s really what keeps this series going! had it not been for all your kind feedback, this series would’ve ended seven chapters ago.
I don’t think it works like that…. It’s probably more like a deer, it won’t come out if it’s going to be caught… whatever it is that’s sending the messages x’D
pairing; flower shop au!technoblade x gn!reader
word count: 1.2k
warnings; oblivious mutual pining >:( can be taken as ooc techno because i haven't rlly written him.
synopsis; techno gets forced to buy flowers from a local flower shop because of his brother. but after seeing a old friend which make some old feelings rise, he maybe realizes the trip wasn't so bad.
a/n: hello hello!! this piece of writing is for kay aka @dreamwvrld to celebrate her 1 year anniversary <3 i hope you enjoy :)
Techno sighs as he walks down the street from his apartment. The blue skies slightly calming him down as he takes out the note from his pocket and fiddles with the edges, remembering what his brother said.
"Heyy Techno!!" He winces as he picked up the call from his twin. "Are you drunk Wil?" Techno imagines Wilbur's confused face and chuckles while putting the call on speaker. "Wha- I'm not drunk!!" He hums, sitting down on his sofa.
Techno grabs his plate of food from the coffee table while his twin rants. "-Anyway, I need you to visit the local flower shop near your place uhh- I think it's called Bloomers??" Techno swallows his food when he tuned back in.
"Why?" Techno asks before adding "Did you and Sally get into another fight?" Wilbur chuckles on the other line while Techno rolls his eyes. "Actually never mind, I don't need to hear your sob story."
"Woww Techno real mature of you." He can feel the sarcasm seeping through the screen as Wilbur speaks. "Anyway, you're closer and I need to make up with her. Buy her a boquet of lilies, will you? It's her favorite." As Techno opens his mouth to protest, Wilbur speaks again.
"I'll pay you back! Please, man?" Techno sets his plate on the coffee table and speaks. "Ok first of all, never call me 'man' again." He hears Wilbur scoff and knows he's rolling his eyes.
"Second of all, I'll do it as long as you remember to pay me back." Techno smiles as Wilbur thanks him. He takes a post-it note out and writes down where it is and what flowers to get before bidding farewell to his brother.
He sighs as he reaches the front of the store. 'Bloomers' is spelled out accross the top of the store in fancy letters with a rose at the end. He remembers to scold his brother for sending him to such a corny place before entering.
"Hello! Welcome to Bloomers! How may I help you-" Your voice falls short as the bell's ring comes to a stop. Standing in front of you is Technoblade, from your high school.
"No way!!" You exclaim and smile at him. "Technoblade right?" The said man infront of you manages to nod.
While inside, he's cursing his brother for making him do this. Because in front of him is his high school crush, Y/n.
He knows Wilbur knew. Wilbur always has a knack for trying to break Techno's calm exterior and has yet to succeed. Though this might be his closest attempt.
"Y-" He clears his throat. "Y/n too, right?" You smile and nod at him. "So glad to see you after all these years! Honestly thought you died after you didn't respond to my text."
Oh.
He can't believe you remember that. After high school when you both went your seperate ways. You had gotten Techno's number and texted him.
Techno had freaked out and ignored it. When he finally got the courage to respond, he realized two weeks had passes and decided it was too awkward to respond.
"Haha... Well I'm here now aren't I?" He clears his throat from embarrassment. Yeah! You are. Anyway, As I was saying. How can I help you today?"
Oh yeah. He forgot about the flowers.
He reached into his pocket to grab the note before realizing it had dropped. Panicking, he crouched to the floor and looked around for it.
You had to stifle your laughter. Watching one of your old friends-who keep in mind is 6'2- panick while looking around at the floor.
You caught sight of a yellow note stuck on his hair. You wondered if that was it.
"Um- Techno?" He stops looking around and stands up, hitting his head on one of your hanging pots.
"Oh shit!- Wait are you ok?!?" You panick and rush over to him. He nods as the room spin for him. 'Great. I just embarrassed myself for sure.'
You giggle at him and motion for him the turn around. You pluck the note out of his hair making him turn pink as your fingers brush against his ear.
He turned back around, face flushed from embarrassment. "How did that get there.." He mumbled while your eyes scanned over the note.
He watches as you chuckle as show him the note. "You really haven't changed, have you?"
He remember's when you used to copy off of his notes in the class you guys shared together.
He rubs at his nape and gives you a nervous smile.
"Lillies, huh? A very fancy flower for a fancy someone?" You curse internally while you grab the flowers.
You can't believe you just asked your old best friend if he was single.
Techno's eyes widen. "Oh no no no, they're for my brother's girlfriend."
You smile in memory of his twin. "I think.. Sally's her name? Honestly I forget what Wilbur said..." Techno rambles.
"Well here's your bouquet Techno." You smile and hand over the bouquet you just previously wrapped.
Techno grabbed out his wallet when you reached over and stopped his hand from pulling it out.
His eyes rise to meet yours as you smile at him. "On the house, for an old friend."
Techno could feel his eyes widen.
"Oh I couldn't Y/n- Please just let me pay." Techno tries to refuse but you push back.
"Trust me Techno, it's fine!"
"I can't accept this Y/n-"
"Then don't! Simply.... pay me back never."
You two are basically toe to toe. Your leaning over the counter as Techno iseaning forward.
Both of your foreheads are centimeters away from touching. You can't remember the last time you were so close to somebody.
There's silence between the both of your before laughter fills the room.
He watches as you retract, leaving him standing over the counter.
"Well Techno, I think we're done here." You give him closed eye smile.
He tries his best not to frown or sigh, but his face betrays him.
"Don't worry Techno, I think we'll see each other very soon." You wink and shoo him away.
"Ok.. Bye Y/n." He shuffles on his feet right before the door, eyes on the floor.
"Goodbye Techno." Techno could hear the amusement in your voice without looking at your face.
His hand grabs the handle and hesitantly pushes the door open.
One step.
Two steps.
And he keeps walking for a few more steps before he turns around and gives you a genuine smile.
"Nice seeing you again." Before he walks away with more confidence than he entered with.
"I- you- Nice seeing you two!!.. God why am I like this." He chuckles at you behavior.
As he turned the corner, a black card in the rose's caught his eye.
'xxx-xxx-xxx don't think i was lying when i said we'd see each other soon ;)'
He smirked a bit at the card. You always knew Techno had a good eye.
God, you always knew everything about Techno.
Well, except his unsaid feelings.
He tucks the card in his coats pocket and trades it for his phone.
Techno clicks on a contact. It starts ringing with leads for him to bring it up to his ear.
"Hello?"
"You have some explaining to do Wilbur."
Wilbur's nervous chuckles ring throughout the line.
hello sushi may i req cc!dream with 4 for your event :D
would he treat you like i would?
cc!dream x gn!reader
2.4k event masterlist | event playlist
number 4 landed on I WOULD - TAKE ME HOME
summary: the classic childhood friends to lovers but you have a bf and dream hates him.
warnings: smidge of angst because dream here is an idiot but it’s all fluff and stupid pining. not proofread.
notes: blue!! hope u like it. exceeded 1k words because of how into it i got writing this
a loser, this is how dream feels every day when he has to get up to go to school and witness you and your boyfriend frolicking through the halls, hand in hand. he feels like the biggest loser in the world.
if anyone were to ask him why he’s acting this way, he’ll tell them that he’s just not a fan of couples. not a fan of the whole ‘i am in love with you, let’s go show it off to everyone who isn’t in love’.
but he knows what the real reason is.
jealousy.
he doesn’t like that word, mostly because it feels like he’s claiming you and is angered when other people don’t realize this—and he doesn’t like feeling that way. obviously, you’re free to kiss anyone you want to, and he has no right to feel pissed when you actually do.
it just bothers him that he’s been with you since you were babies, and you somehow end up with an asshole who’s only holding your hand to look good in front of the crowd.
dream knows this, because you’ve mentioned multiple times how he never does that when you’re alone. ( and you chose to call it as him being protective. dream wanted to hit his head on the wall. )
“it’s okay, though,” you had said, chuckling softly, effectively shutting up dream’s rants about how he hates everything about this—about why he feels that way. “he’s probably too shy to show intimacy, i get it. who’d want to make all that eye contact alone?”
i would, dream thinks, and feels guilty the second after. he always does.
a loser, this is how dream still feels when you tell him you want to come over.
something about a break-up, and how it was a long time coming. dream was zeroed in on the word ‘break-up’ falling from your lips, as if he has selective hearing or something. in all honesty, this is probably his fault. he doesn’t know why you care about his opinion on your own boyfriend, but you do, and so dream told you that you two aren’t good for each other.
it was surprisingly a peaceful break-up, almost as if this was all planned from the start. even ended with a shake of two hands.
you two are alone in his room.
his face burns at the thought, blinking rapidly as if that will bat away his embarrassment.
you sit on the edge of his bed, smiling. he wants to slam his head again. preferably your mouth with his. he feels like a loser.
“thanks for letting me stay over, i don’t really want to be alone.” it confuses him how unbothered you look compared to what you’re saying, but he supposes your optimism is one of the things he likes about you.
maybe not this much optimism, though.
“you know i’m always here for you, idiot,” he teases, sitting on his bed, too. though purposefully not too close, because he’s not that bold anymore. wouldn’t it be a dick move if he were to just be all touchy-touchy after you just got out of a toxic relationship?
“i know,” your voice sounds so soft. he feels lightheaded, and flops back on his bed to distract himself from his burning face.
“thanks for that, by the way,” you continue, lying beside him. his heart leaps up to his throat, eyes wide. “maybe i just got too excited to have a relationship.”
i’m right here, he wants to scream.
you meet his eyes, and it feels like a mock. like you can hear his thoughts and decided to mess with him until he goes crazy.
“yeah.” he clears his throat, and he’s so flustered that it’s stupid—he’s stupid. he looks away. “never liked him anyway.” and then he realizes how blunt that sounds, and how rude it must be since ‘him’ is quite literally your ex-boyfriend.
you snort, shifting so your body is facing sideways, your head resting on your palm. “yeah, i could tell. why’s that anyway?”
“because he’s an ass.” dream’s probably said that too fast for anyone to consider him normal about your relationship with him.
“he’s never spoken to you at all,” you muse.
“yeah, i hate that.” he’s stumbling over his own words now. “i’m your best friend! he hates me because i’m that? that’s so—”
“and you hate him because he’s my boyfriend,” you point out. you shuffle closer.
he shuts his mouth.
the laugh that leaves your lips makes him want to bury himself in a hole and stay right there forever until his bones decay and his nails are all that’s left of him. “shut up,” he grumbles. “why are we still talking about him anyway?”
“i like it when you’re jealous.”
his breath escapes him all at once, looking back at you, searching for something he can hold onto. “and why is that?” his face is still flushed, but the more he sees you get fidgety under his gaze, the more his confidence blooms.
you’re the one who leans away, unable to meet his gaze.
his heart soars.
“you idiot, you think i’d willingly get together with jake wallace? he already—”
he short circuits. “isn’t that what you just did—”
“—has a crush on that karl guy from art class. we made a deal, so it would be real humiliating if it didn’t work out—”
dream’s eyes bulge out of their sockets. “he what—”
“so tell me, dream,” you say sternly, sitting up until he has to look up at you. “were you jealous or not?”
dream’s brows furrow. “i… i was.” he clears his throat, “i still am.” and then he chuckles, pulling you closer to him until your leg is pressed against his hip—maybe he’s crazy to find humor in his situation. “were you trying to make me jealous?”
“yes.” you waver slightly under his stare, even when you’re the one looking down on him. “are you gonna do something about it?”
Sushi my beloved!! Good morning btw, so I have request 3 with cc!dream / 5 with cc!dream maybe??? I just hope if you do, it would be angst. Ily:)
this isn’t the stain of a red wine, i’m bleeding love
cc!dream x gn!reader
2.4k event masterlist | event playlist
number 3 landed on OLIVIA - MADE IN THE A.M.
summary: he proves to you that it’s not true.
warnings: angst at the beginning but fluff at the end since u asked for pain and suffering 😏
you love your boyfriend. you really do.
if anyone would ask what exactly you love about him, you don’t even know where to start. everything, something, whatever makes him dream. and you love that he loves you just as much, giving you unconditional love and affection even if you don’t ask for it—and most of the time, you don’t, yet he still gives and gives.
you love him.
but you’re starting to question if he still loves you as much as he did when he first asked you out.
you feel stupid, somehow. to doubt someone as nice as dream—someone who holds so much love for everyone.
yet lately… he feels distant. it feels like a part of him that grounds you are all so far away now, lost in blue screens and ten-minute videos.
maybe it’s you and he’s not actually drifting away, but that doesn’t help you feel better about it at all. he’s always in his room, it’s not like he’s going anywhere. maybe you’re the one who’s drifting away.
so you told him you’re going to move out for a month. maybe you just need a breather, some time alone to think—to wonder if you and him should still be together. if it’s still right for you to still be with him when his job requires him to keep this part of his life ( you ) shielded away from the world. and he’s always working.
that was a month ago.
you’re going home today.
sapnap’s the one who insisted for it to be a surprise. a birthday surprise, specifically. ( but you already told dream. )
you’re nervous, fidgeting on their doorstep as sapnap fiddles with the keys, muttering stuff about how dream is probably still dead asleep and probably drooling on his pillows right now. you smile fondly at the thought, heart aching slightly at the realization that you’ve missed him so much.
the entire month you were “away”, dream always made sure to check up on you every day, sending everything he can send when you search up ‘love you’ in the gifs section. and you love him, you really do, but the sick part of you thinks that maybe he just feels bad.
you shut your eyes, frustrated by your own thoughts, especially about one as so caring as him. you’re fucked up and you don’t deserve him, your mind tells you. but you’re selfish and you love him too much to let go.
sapnap’s grin is bright as he opens the door, oblivious to your trembling, your regret. “in his room. i’ll put this—” he gestures at your luggage, “—somewhere here.”
“thank you, sapnap,” you whisper, heart hammering loudly as your feet hurry to the familiar path of his room.
it feels like seconds are dragged into hours as you make your way to the front of his doorstep, crumbling with only the thought of his face. the entire month you were away, you just wanted to pack up and run here—even when you were the one who left in the first place; and you’re fucked up. you fucked up.
now you’re missing him even when he’s only a few feet away.
you can’t do this.
you turn away, shame hot on your face as you ball your fist. you can’t handle seeing him when you’re like this. not when you would break at the sight of viridian eyes, and feel so undeserving again.
the door opens as you’re about to take a step, and your back hits a warm chest.
“i missed you,” is mumbled to your neck without hesitation. your heart soars, lightheaded by overwhelming emotions as you hold onto his sleeves. “i missed you so much holy shit.”
“dream,” you breathe out.
he laughs, but it just sounds broken more than anything.
“you did?” you murmur, gingerly pulling away to face him.
dream’s face twists, confused. “of course i did.” and then it dissolves into a heartwarming smile, one that can quite literally kill you on the spot. “you have no idea how sad i was moping around without seeing you somewhere in my room.”
“oh.”
you want to tear up. you want to cry, ask him if he’s just saying this because he’s scared of hurting you. ask him if you’re fucked up and ask him if he’s going to leave you.
the shame wells up in your eyes, and then comes pouring out. “i’m— i’m sorry,” you croak out, avoiding wide eyes that panic at the sight of you crumbling. “i’m sorry, i just thought—”
frantic hands reach out to your shoulders. “y/n—”
“i just thought i didn’t want to be a bother,” you admit. “you just seemed so busy and—” you stop, and sniffle. embarrassed, ashamed. “i love you,” you tell him, “i missed you,” and you’re surprised to realize you mean it so much more than anything.
dream is silent for a second, wiping your tear away with a thumb. he looks like he’s about to cry, too.
maybe this is the part where he realizes how pathetic you are. and honestly, you won’t be surprised. you want it to happen already so you can get over it as soon as possible—even when you know it’ll be impossible to get over dream.
“do you wanna know something?”
confusion waves over your face. “yeah.”
“it was our anniversary three weeks ago.” two days after you left.
“yeah,” you smile slightly, fond, “you told me that over text, too, silly.”
dream blushes. “i had something planned, you know. i was planning it for weeks. i wanted to surprise you with a whole week of just us away from home.”
you’re stunned. “dream—”
he laughs. “george and sapnap took the tickets instead. i couldn’t bear going there without you.”
“dream, i’m so sorr—”
“don’t.” he interrupts you with a quick kiss, smiling easily. “our little break made me think a lot, too. and i realized that i’ve been a really bad boyfriend.”
“no you aren’t.”
“yes, i am,” he says easily. “and i want to be better.” he cups your cheek, eyes sad. “i thought that if i work hard and finish what i need to, i’d be able to spend more time with you after. but it piled on and pushed you away. i hated it. and i hate how i made you think i don’t love you.”
“you love me,” you utter out, and dream smiles and nods like you’ve just made his entire life. you smile. “do you love me?”
“you have no idea,” he confesses, “how much i love you.”
words aren’t enough to fully clear your mind, but the way he’s holding you, looking at you, smiling at you, it helps. you’ve never felt relief as hard as you’re feeling now. “we’re so stupid.”
“the stupidest,” he agrees mindlessly.
“i feel like,” you start, interrupted when he pecks your nose, “we should really talk more.”
A/N: HOPE U LIKE IT guys the next drabble is kinda fluff i promise
