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#Wilbur soot Mcyt
mertan-fake · 9 months
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Wilbur's designs if he lived in different countries (Snowchester, Kinoko kingdom and Las Nevadas)
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cheetosmilkk · 8 months
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Another old one, OSMP bros 🫰
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crispber · 7 months
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“One must imagine Sisyphus happy”
Howdy!! found this older sketch from months ago in my camera roll, and figured I should post it :]
Suppose this is an alternative ending for Ghostbur? In case you’re like me and miss him and want KNOW he deserved better
I wasn’t planning on doing anything else with this when I made it but I think I could “remake” it into something proper?
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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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kristiliqua · 4 months
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the real question here is do u think squids n octos would or wouldnt have a (mammalian) sighing reflex .?
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pheliiaa · 2 months
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the best in my eyes. ✐
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✐ - stay in painting date with wilbur !
note - for @ax-y10 !! uhhhh painter!reader x wilbur! (this was accidentally posted, actually. but like I reread it dw 😭👍) dividers by @cafekitsune !
warnings - petnames, kissing, swearing
taglist ! - @phxntomsdusk, @ax-y10
| use of 'you'/'yours' ! |
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“darling, do you think this is a good idea?" wilbur asks with an unsure but excited expression on his face, gripping a paintbrush as well as a palette in his hands. “I can't paint, it'll look so bad, lovely.” he chuckles.
"yes, wil. i'm sure, love." you nodded, setting a few of your sets of paint on the table between the two of you as you placed a canvas on your frame.
“draw anything, even if it looks messy, I'll love it either way.” you smiled, sitting on the stool you dragged on the way here.
you picked up a paintbrush and a palette, taking a few tubes of the paint and squeezing a few onto the palette. you thought of something you could paint before staring at wilbur's focused face as he leant closer to the canvas and used his paintbrush to make a few light strokes on the canvas.
you didn't realize it at first but you had been staring for quite a bit. you looked back at your blank canvas, deciding you would be drawing the man in front of you.
from time to time, wilbur would crack a joke or two, using his witty sense of humor to create a lighthearted and enjoyable atmosphere between the two you. the jokes he would make effortlessly broke the tension, making you laugh and bring a genuine smile to your face.
after thirty minutes or maybe an hour, you both were done and would be showing one another the paintings you both made for each other.
“mine looks like shit.” wilbur spoke while laughing softly, looking at the painting that he had made in his hands.
“remember, wil. I said I'd love it either way.” you chuckled, “so who's gonna go first?” you asked, gripping your yet to be dried painting.
“you can go first, lovely.” wilbur murmured as he kept his eyes on his artwork, feeling a tiny bit anxious about how you would react about it.
you muttered a small ‘okay’ before turning your painting around, showing wilbur the drawing you had made of him.
he let out a small and quiet gasp, smiling brightly as he saw the painting of him you painted. he softly took it in his hands before he spoke, “this is amazing, darling.” he chuckled, leaning towards you and kissing your cheek. "I'm gonna frame this or something."
“can I see yours?” you asked him, looking at his caramel colored eyes as you giggled with flushed cheeks.
“oh- uh, yeah. here.” he turned his own painting around, showing his artwork of you. "I know it isn't great.."
many would think it was too messy, but to you, it was perfect. "it's amazing, wil. I love you so much." you smiled, looking at his artwork with heart eyes as you pressed a sweet kiss to his lips.
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ghostly-groves · 6 months
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What the everloving fuck do you mean by “the Wilbur Soot finale was one year ago.” No it wasn’t. It was not. It was a couple weeks ago, right? …right?
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toxicruins101 · 1 year
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"An eye for an eye"
Wilbur x male! Reader
Tw: blood, shouting swearing and gore, read at your own risk.
You had known Wilbur since before you could remember, you were there for him he was there for you.
One day Wilbur came to you with the idea to build a drug empire, you said sure and went on your merry way with him to look for recruits.
A few days later and you had done it, you had recruits, a van and everything else you could need what neither of you expected was for that little drug van to become a whole country
And so while everything progressed you stayed by Wilbur and became his right hand man in everything.
You were always there for him.
You thought he would always be there for you too.
Well, you were wrong.
"Wilbur?" you asked him with a sharp tone in your voice but fear was also very noticible
He had just lost the election and was banished from the country along with you and Tommy.
Tommy had gone god knows where, poor kids probably lost but you were more worried about yourself in the moment.
Wilbur was looking down holding his arm since it was bleeding, he was angry.
"how could you let it happen?" asked Wilbur averting his stare at you instead of the floor, his eyes showing no emotion.
"what?" you asked, what did he mean by that? You had done nothing wrong, had you?
"how could you let me loose?" asked Wilbur his eyes staying the same but his tone was sharper and filled with rage, betrayal almost.
"what? Wilbur what are you talking about?" you had done nothing, you did what you could, it wasn't your fault he didn't win!
"you said you would guarantee we would win, that we would stay at the top, that there was nothing to worry about." said Wilbur venom dripping in his voice, he was really mad
"yeah I did, and I did try my best Wilbur, I got almost everyone to vote for us, how can you blame me for Schlatts and Quackitys desicion? It wasn't my fault you know?!" you said, anger lacing your words you weren't just gonna let Wilbur walk all over you and blame you for something that was in no way whatsoever in your control, that's just absurd!
"you promised me, and I don't appreciate liars." His voice was cold and deadly, even with the monotone tone of voice he used you couldn't help but feel threatened, who wouldn't if you had to look at a dangerous, powerful, man in the eyes who showed nothing, leaving his actions or intentions a complete mystery to someone who was stuck in your current position.
You stayed silent as Wilbur took a step closer too you. He opened a small leather bag he carried on his belt, his hand going slower in your mind the complete opposite of what's happening in real life.
He dragged out a black and gold fountain pen, he slowly removed the cap making a clinging sound once it hit the rock floor you were both standing on.
You only stared at him, unable to move as if your body was no longer connected to your brain and didn't listen to it's commands, the person you saw before you wasn't your best friend, the man you had joked and stayed side by side with all these years wasn't the same as the one standing before you.
He took a look at the pen and then at you, something going through his mind that you couldn't even start of thinking to figure out.
All of his thought, intentions, moves, were all a mystery, you couldn't read him as well you could just an hour ago, and it scared you but your body still refuses to run or try to talk him out of whatever he was thinking of.
"Such a shame, this was my favorite pen." He spoke but before you could even register or understand his words your left eye felt a giant unbearable pain.
You screamed out and your body moved backwards without you telling it too as you held your eye, tears threatening to spill as blood came pouring out like a waterfall, the pen stuck in the middle of your now blind eye bringing waves and waves of pain shooting through your body like crazy as your blood decorated it's beautiful shape and structure.
The gold and black shining in the fire's light as Wilbur stared at your injured form, he knelt down and picked up the pen's cap, slowly making his way towards your tensed and trembling form.
Your knees had buckled in pain and you were looking at the ground through gritted teeth and sharp breaths as you tried to overcome the pain.
You heard footsteps and looked up, as you were almost falling on the floor, at the other man who was standing once again in front of you, that same blank less look on his face.
He reached out and you thought he was going to help you, instead he just gripped the pen and pulled it out, your eye going with it.
You screamed in pain and knelt completely on the floor, tears starting to spill and join your blood on the ground as your breaths only become long, deep, ones, the pain you were feeling was worse than any other you've could've ever or have felt.
Wilbur looked at what remained of your eye on the pen and took it off with a disgusted look, he closed the pen with a slight 'click!' and stared at the crimson liquid staining it's form.
He stared at it in disgust and threw it at your vulnerable figure still lying on the ground, as it rolled onto the floor and into the puddle of your tears and blood only becoming bigger and bigger by the second.
"here, keep it, you already ruined it." He practically spat out as he looked at you, you slowly looked up at him and saw him walking away leaving you in the floor discarded.
Your eyes became heavy and your blood wouldn't stop falling you removed your hand from your eye and fainted as your l'manburg uniform stained itself on the mess below you.
'M/n L/n was slained by Wilbur Soot
Two lives remaining'
You slowly woke up as your eye was blinded by the bright shine of the lights, you sat up and noticed you were on a bed in a, cave or, ravine?, You couldn't really tell, you looked down at your form and noticed you were changed into your normal clothes instead of the l'manburg uniform, which you assumed was ruined because of the...fight...you had with Wilbur, if you could call it that.
You simply stared at the wall Infront of you, half of your vision cut in half, this was going to take a lot of getting used to and if you were being honest, you didn't want to, you wanted your old vision and eye back, you wanted to be normal once more but what happened happened, there's no point in crying over it.
You heard someone coming in and looked at the new duo who now stared at you shocked.
"Y/n! Your alive you son of a bitch! You worried me!." Spoke the blonde kid you knew as tommy as he ran over to you and pulled you into a hug, a smile on his features and exciment in his voice, his hug firm but gentle.
You let the boy hug you as you caught a glimpse of his gold hair just outside your outer vision, you hugged him back and closed your eyes shut not wanting to remember how you got into this position the first place.
The boy pulled away and smiled at you rambling on about something but you could only concentrate on the pink haired killer still in the doorway, looking rather bored as if waiting for the kid to calm down or just wanting to go home.
He met your gaze and glared, his eyes shining red, you only continued staring, you weren't scared, why should you be? He would never kill you even if he says he will, he won't, you mean to much to his little brother to do so.
Tommy stopped mid sentence and saw your guys' staring contense, he dead panned and started to be obnoxious to get your guys attention.
Techno covered his ears because of the volume erupting from his brother as you sighed and leaned back into the comfortable bed and closed your eye, everything going black as the arguing of the two brothers became background noise.
You woke up and stared at your ceiling back in your house, it's been more than a year since pogtopia and you had already grown used to your limited vision.
It's a given that everything has changed, Wilbur died, l'manburg was destroyed, Dream got locked in the prison, a new guy joining his name was Ranboo, at least you think it was.
You couldn't care less, ever since Wilbur died you stopped caring, the only reason you stook around was for Wilbur and now he was dead and in the form of a, rather annoying, ghost, after his death you stopped caring, you couldn't leave the dsmp so you just, gave up.
But Wilbur did seem to like you in his ghost form, of course he didn't have any negative thoughts so he didn't know your injury was caused by him so when you told him, he apologized for a day straight and gave you a lot of blue but it did make him back off a little, so hey, a win in your book.
But you hadn't seen the ghostly form of your former friend for a while and that did make you curious.
You heard a slight 'ping!' from your side and looked at a message sent by tommy, the poor kid went through hell your surprised he's still standing.
'Y/n, meet me at sunset on the l'manburg ruins, I have someone you need to see.' the message sent by the blonde seemed important even with the lack of words that were written down.
You replied with an 'ok' and got ready for your day, putting away your sword and other weapons in your chest, a certain pen that has stuck with you over the years tucked away in your belt.
The day progressed without a single problem and soon enough it was sunset.
You made your way through the path you made, observing the once beautiful city now only be ruins in front of you
You walked and walked, on the glass, hovering over a giant fall if broken
You saw the figure of the kid you came here too see, he saw you and waved at you, you gave a tired smile back raising your hand as to greet him back.
"Y/n! Look who came back!" Said the blonde happily and clearly cheered up, you looked at his side and saw the man you'd never thought you'd see again
The world seemed to slow down and everything just, paused, eyes widened in shock as a taunting smile caressed the dead mans features, his eyes blood red and a large patch of dead skin on the side of his face as though it had been sewed on like a patch on broken clothes and patches.
A long coat following his deathly quiet steps and red lense glasses matching the color of his eyes, you thought he died, you though you were finally free of the menace who took your eye and best feature of yourself as well as the most useful one.
You couldn't believe your eye and ears as that devil voice crawled it's way into your brain and thoughts
"Hello y/n, long time no see, but I'm guessing that's more accurate to you, no?" Spoke the voice of the man, taunting you and clearly speaking about the fatal injury he caused you.
The way he spoke like he was so high and mighty, how he was proud of putting you through hours of suffering, how he was able to hurt the man who never once left his side and still have pride in it as if it wasn't sinful and repulsive of him.
Everything about him angered you and rage boiled in your veins and blood, as you shut your first closed, nails digging deep in your palms as blood started seeping out
Wilbur glanced at your hand and saw the blood slowly seeping out as it made a slight 'click!' sound when it hit the glass floor
He smiled and made eye contact with you, you acted faster than his brain could process and felt an excruciating pain emit from his eye.
He grabbed it in hopes to stop the bleeding as tears fell from his non injured eye.
Tommy was screaming at you but he could barley hear it because of his head pounding like crazy, his teeth were gritted and his tears were falling as you made your way to him.
He looked at up at you, his cocky facade disappearing as his tears decorated his gorgeous face, you smiled down at him as his blood decorated the pen just like yours did all those years ago.
You kneeled down and took the pen out, his eye following suit, he yelled in pain and fell completely now leaning on your shoulder for any type of support.
Tommy just looked at the scene in shock as you threw what remained of the eye following in his footsteps from all those years ago.
Except you didn't leave him stranded, you put the pen away and hugged him as he sobbed from the pain in your shoulder
Blood slowly staining your clothes, creating a beautiful crimson trace as his sobs were covered by your shoulder
You took a bandage and lifted his chin as he looked at you, you smiled at him, intoxicatingly sweet.
"An eye for an eye"
You said as more tears fell from the man and you put the bandages over the side of his face now missing an eye.
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fxshbonezz · 6 months
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Art dump!
Making icon/headshot commission examples so lookout for when they come out
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katyon2020 · 8 months
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‼️‼️TW: Firearms, Smoking and Unlit Explosives ‼️‼️
Burger duo robbing Tubburger again...
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Ranboo gets punished for having more than 2 braincells #2
I'm stupidly proud of the second panel...
Dialogue is once again ripped straight from Community because hiding a glock in a cutesy bee backpack is the most accurate way to describe Tubbo's asthetic.
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prasiddhibirb · 2 years
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Random Wilbur soot x gn!reader hcs
Authors note: this was just in my head for a while now and I just wanted to write it. I understand that it’s pretty standard but it’s my first time writing for him sooo gotta start somewhere! Loved writing for him ♥️ Warnings: none just fluff ^^
Word count: 471 words Pronouns: gender neutral!
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You would get invited from time to time by Wilbur to lovely little cafe dates!
Invites you to his rehearsals 
His inspiration for his songs mostly comes from you
Loves to just be with you and spend quality time with each other while talking about random subjects
Definitely has ranted about him eating sand and how the sand would go “crunch crunch”
He will stream with you and introduce you to chat as his significant other (with your consent) 
Loves holding you in general <3
When cuddling, he will be the big spoon unless you want to the big spoon
I can imagine a scenario where Wilbur is just laying on your laps/next to you and him fiddling with a trinket Tommy left in his office while you either continue looking at your phone or play with his hair.
“Will, what is that?” You asked, referring to the trinket Will has in his hands.
“Oh it’s some kind of weird thing Tommy left on my desk in the office while he was leaving, he probably forgot it.” He responded.
“Oh, I see.”
When you two go shopping together, if he sees you staring at a specific thing for a very long time, he’ll buy it and then you’d be like: heihhhhhh I just wanted to read what the description was/quality/(whatever other excuse), not buy it!
I can envision him liking hugs/initiating hugs from behind like for example, you just finished washing the dishes when you suddenly feel a warm energy from behind and you realize that Will has his hands wrapped around you tightly.
When he’s bored, he is a menace. At least he has you to bring him back down to reality! Unless you guys both want to be a menace together, that’s fine too!
You and Wilbur are just having a romantic moment while streaming and then chat just goes: AWWWWW / SOO CUTEEE<3333 / CLIP IT CLIP IT CLIP IT
Sometimes he’ll just go “boop” while touching your nose while saying it in his baby voice
Forehead kisses, kisses on the cheeks, kisses the lips, kisses on your nose, kisses down your neck, k i s s
You sometimes participate in Will’s experiments (if you have the time) and whenever it’s your turn/you, he’ll try and make and excuse for you to not die but whenever that doesn’t work, he’ll be sad that he’ll have to kill you and you’ll be gone from the experiment.
If you don’t mind animals, he’ll probably get a pet cat with you since he’s always loved them and wanted one
You have to constantly remind him and tell him that he is not worthless and  insignificant as he always tends worry about that.
Will deeply desires a very close and loyal bond, specifically with you and always wants to strengthen this bond.
If you enjoy my writing and my works, please do follow me! ♥️
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jermashugefatass · 8 months
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I was told to make this as a joke and I put a little too much effort into it-
So I'm throwing it out into the world
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bugzizgone · 1 year
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C!crimeboys are both autisic. C!Tommy's special interests are gardening and insects and C!wilburs is music more specifically old classic rock bands. They used to sit out in the van before things got bad Tommy would talk about bugs or some new flowers he learned about today while wilburs favorite song plays on the old radio Also im autisic and I say so.
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everything you do (makes it easy to fall in love with you)
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or the teacher wilbur valentines au i briefly talked about
tw: cliches, over usage of pet names, insta-love, cursing
they/them for reader but one instance of “Misses” i couldn’t find a way around it
the giggling should’ve given it away at first.
kids giggling and pulling at the each others sleeve is never a good sign, and even as a second year teacher-you know better.
a smile finds its way onto your face regardless, “what’s so funny?” you ask, “hm?”
half the class giggles into their hands, squirms in their seats and doesn’t answer until a student in the front spoke.
listen, you don’t have favorites-they’re all your kids. but if you had to choose, Rosie, the quiet kid that sits in front for all your lessons, speaks quietly and carefully, her glasses falling down her nose as she speaks-would be one of the first
“miss,” rosie giggles, “someone left a present for you.”
you act surprised.
Kids bringing small presents is nothing new; there's James, who brought you a bruised apple in the first month you started teaching. Annie, who comes in from recess with rocks shoved deep in her pockets for you; Sam who never comes inside when the bell rings without a weed in their pocket, a dandelion half squished for you-
when you make your way to your desk, make a show of opening the small shoebox turned Valentine's Day box you made in class, now with little cats on the sides, whiskers on the front; you're expecting half ripped pieces of lined paper in there, little mispelled love notes from your students-
making a show of opening it, you don't have to act surprised when you see it's absouletly filled to the brim with notes-and you were half right, written on ripped lined paper, scribbled between class periods, mispelled everything-
"Miss-"
one of the students calls you back to it as you take a handful out, a mess of: u lok nice 2day and i lik ur dres or i lov u
"Do you want us to tell you who they're from?"
They're giggling behind their hands, like it's an inside joke you somehow missed out on, didn't get the memo on
"Hm," The smirk plays on your face as you grab another one, "I haven't the faintest idea-"
"It was Mister Soot!" Annie all but squeals, the class erupting into giggles
"Mr.Soot," Your eyebrows form into one, "Like, the english teacher across the hall, Mr.Soot? The tall one?"
It's obvious from the notes that it isn't from him even if you've seen him in passing; walking to your classroom in the morning before the students are there, your hands full of bags for the classroom, him insisting on helping you only for you to race him to see who can get to their classrooms first-walking into his room when you know it's his planning period, his hair dishelved, glasses shoved ontop of his head as he's massaging the sides of his forehead only for you to ask, "Does this sound dumb?" when you're trying to draft an email
you know of wilbur
it's hard not to know about wilbur. it's only your second year teaching, your first in this school district, and while everyone here is nice, he's the only one who's seemed to go out of his way to make sure you're comfortable. Dropping by on his lunch, his wrinkled paper bag in hand "I packed too much for lunch." only to pass you an orange, or an apple-when you get a note from one of his students and open it only for it to read: Sorry. They needed a second outside of the classroom. Please send something back for them. -W
"Yeah," They pull you back to present time, "He has a crush on you. He loves you."
they're giggling into their palms, oohing and awing as you do when you're young and love is something that makes their face bright red and squirm in their seats-
"Alright," You shake your head, shove the notes back in, hoping they don't see your face bright red, "We have to finish this lesson. C'mon, let's see where were we. Ah, yes. June, can you-"
You wait until it dies down, when you hope these notes are at least a semi forgotten thing, right before you're about to send them to recess, to send the note across the hall. You make sure to staple it down, don't trust the kids to not peak, and send it across the hall
Across the hall, Wilbur is pacing.
"No because like," He shakes his head, runs his hand through his hair, "I can't tell them I like them-"
His best friend, the janitor, John, sits backwards in his chair, eating a banana.
He rolls his eyes as he peels the outside carefully, "Right, because that would be embarrassing-"
"No because exactly!" He shakes his head, slams his fist against his other hand, "I have to-"
A tiny knock on the door and Wilbur whips around.
All his students are gone, in art for the next 45 minutes-don't them to see him like this, stressed about a crush he'd rather die, thanks.
"Hi, sweetheart."
He immediately drops the rant, drops his voice as he kneels on the floor, very aware of how tall he is and how he towers over the students, tries to make himself smaller around them always
She drags her feet to Wilbur, hands him the piece of red construction paper, stapled down, face bright red: "This is from misses, across the hall." She speaks so quietly Wilbur has to strain to hear her, would have missed it if he didn't see your writing across the top of it.
His eyes go wide to John, "It's from them."
John cackles, "Is this a code red? Or-" "Not now, John." Wilbur hisses, turns to the kid, "Thank you, darling."
And she nods once, drags her feet out the door and all but runs to the classroom.
"Open it, you idiot." John huffs, throws the banana peel into the wastebasket by the door, misses.
Wilbur turns it around in his hands, takes a deep breath, and opens it.
Across the hall, you worry you did the wrong thing.
It borders on flirting, the note you sent. Wrote it on a whim, can definitely see the words you scribbled out, wrote over, tried to make it so he doesn't see the first draft
Heard you have a crush on me you wrote, my kids filled my box with notes from "you". I would expect an English teacher to know how to spell 'love' when you're professing your love to me, but it's sweet, all the same. If you're kids say anything to you, just wanted to fill you in. Sorry, this is dumb.
You're contemplating faking your death, making a new identity, running away-investing in fake mustaches anything then to live in shame of flirting-with another teacher?! An English teacher of all things?! Please.
The note is shoved under your door, and you can hear footsteps all but run away and a door close in the time it takes you to get it.
It's your planning period now, and you turned the lights off and shut the door in hopes of some quiet to get rid of the pounding headache behind your eyes, your glasses shoved over your face
You get it slowly, carefully, walk to the door where there's a thick piece of computer paper, also stapled close, halfway across the room from being shoved with such passion under the door-
your name is scribbled in front, loopy and carefully and you open the note slowly, expecting a restraining order
Darling,
can't believe my cover was blown away by students, of all things. I heard them whispering in my classroom about this, but didn't think they'd be brave enough to do anything about it.
I'm sorry about my kids. I think when adults look at each other, kids think they're in love. I hope they didn't bother you too much.
-Wilbur in 303 (The English teacher)
P.S. You look pretty today
Your fingers run over the note, the place where he obviously pressed down too hard with his pencil and left marks in the note, the scratching out he did. The way he added his classroom in, as if you weren't sure who he was, as if he isn't the only one who's showed you kindness, who stayed with you when you locked yourself out of your classroom your second day until John came to unlock the door. Or the snacks he brought you, the cupcake he had a student bring you when he was celebrating his birthday-the kind little gestures he did in the few months you'd known him
You sit on the note for the day.
Not on purpose; your class came back and there was a small fight amongst students, homework to do-the note felt heavy in your pocket, forgotten until you got home and undressed for the day.
"No but like," Wilbur sighs to John the next day, early before school is suppose to start. John is leaning back in his seat, eating a granola bar and missing his mouth, most of it ending up on the floor, "Valentine's day is in two days and all I did was send a note all but professing my love to another teacher." "I know," John snorts, "How embarrassing. That has to be like, an HR red flag, right?"
"Not helping, John." Wilbur groans as he slams his head against his desk. "Maybe this is a sign I should quit. Move across the sea, make a new identity-"
"On a teachers budget?" John snorts, "Wilbur be serious, you can't even afford to look at those ticket prices-"
"Not helping, you-"
"Besides," John rolls his eyes, throws the wrapper in the trash, "It's just a crush, Wilbur. Jesus Christ, you act like you've never had one before. They aren't going to write you up for thinking the teacher across the room from you is hot."
Wilbur groans, digs the heels of his palms into his eyes until he sees stars.
"And besides," John adds, "It's cute. I haven't seen you this excited since college. The flowers are cute, I promise."
Wilbur doesn't answer, picks up the mini water bottle he ripped the label off of it and picked some of the wild flowers that grow on his walk into school. He can't afford the grocery store bouquets, not on his teaching budget.
"Come on," John groans as he stands, jingles the keys in his hands, "I'll unlock their door before they come. They'll be here in ten minutes." Wilbur sighs but obeys, bites back comments on how he worries this is weird, replaces it with: "it's weird you know their schedule."
John huffs, digs into his pocket as he makes a show of using the wrong keys so Wilbur groans, cranes his neck to check the hallway for any signs of you-
Finally, three wrong keys later, John pushes the door open and gently shoves Wilbur in, and he stumbles inside, places the water bottle on your desk, and digs around in his pocket for the note he wrote last night when he couldn't sleep, and shoves it deep into your valentines mailbox before he can regret it-and all but runs out.
Your turning the construction paper make-shift valentine you made over in your hand, contemplating what to say, when to confess this crush officially, when your eyes hit the small water bottle again.
the note never said it's from him, but it's all but implied, the same flowers you see in the schoolyard day in and day out, and you drag the small bottle to you, shove your nose deep into the small bouqet.
Your eye catches the note in the box. You almost missed it, halfway through the day already, when you can see the very tip of it, and you carefully have to dig it out, carefully unwrinkled it and put it on your lap
one day left.
according to my kids, we're married. sorry you have to find out this way that you're taken. sorry the last name is kind of shit.
Have a good day, darling. Keep the tiny humans alive until 3:05.
-W (303, English teacher)
PS You look beautiful today
A smile creeps onto your face, and a plan forms in your head.
Being friends with the janitor comes with many perks. You didn't originally become friends just for those perks, believe you should treat everyone kindly, but when Wilbur is in one of his kid's specials (It's Thursday, so you know it's music class and you also know, from walking past the room, that Wilbur takes the class very seriously, and likes to join in when he can) and you're able to find John, hiding in his room (More of a make shift closet) and ask him to unlock Wilbur's door.
"I worry this goes against a school rule," You whisper, bouncing on your heels, "Like, an unspoken rule."
John smells heavy of nicotine and grease (somehow) but he's humming as he unlocks the door, "Nah," He shakes his head, "Just mention me in y'all's speech when y'all are married. Or, name a kid after me." You gasp, gently hit his arm, "John we are not getting married. Or having kids. I don't even know him. We're just two co-workers who are being nice."
John physically bites his tongue to hold back any comments on first love, or how many text Wilbur's sent about you instead nods: "Mhm." as the door opens.
The room is darker without Wilbur. You know in your head it's due to the lights being out, and not actually because of his lack of presence, but he definitely brings something to the stone walls that's missing without him.
"Quick, quick quick," John teases as he leans against the doorframe, jingles his keys, that smirk on his face he always seems to wear, "Let's go."
You squeal, all but run to his desk, the small bouquet of construction paper flowers on green pipe cleaners you folded on lunch in a small paper milk carton, a piece of paper under it: One more day to go. Sorry these aren't real. From your wife
And you all but run out as John laughs at you.
Valentine's Day comes, and it feels like it's hangng over your shoulders, some big d-day you've been dreading and waiting for.
Wilbur is too chicken shit to ask you out to your face. He knows this, hell-you probably know that too, but he still comes in, a small cup he usually reserves for his kid's birthdays, plastic with your name down the side, filled with your favorite candy (gotten the answer from grilling your kids at lunch and lowkey bribing them) a note taped to the outside in a bright pink envelope he folded up.
He makes his way to your room, sets it in the middle, hesitates, contemplates if he should, and leaves before he can second guess it.
You're happy you saw the cup before your students, or you would've never heard the end of it.
Your hands all but shake as you take the paper out, his handwriting slanted and scribbled like he wrote it in a hurry:
It's so fucked that I couldn't say this straight to your face.
Will you go out with me? Tonight, 8pm. Tammy's Diner in town. Let me know.
-W
The absence of his room number, his title, makes you smile, blushing as you re-read the note, him finally asking you out. You contemplated asking him out since you started here, debating with it every ride home in complete silence, beating yourself up for not doing it.
You open your desk up, grab a piece of paper, and get to work.
Wilbur is googling teaching jobs in the city when one of your students walks in, wide eyed, a note in their small hands. He all but runs to them, gives them a hand full of candy as they leave happily, and he takes a deep breathe, opens the note
Can't wait
I've been waiting for you to ask me out.
Our class party is at noon. Bring your class and we can have a little combined party, it'll be fun.
Wear your green tie, it's my favorite.
-Your excited wife
"And that class, is when you carry the one. Now-"
The yell rips through the air, all but quiet, and the class whips around, wide eyed, wondering what the yelling is about, the loud Woo that rips through the air.
A smile forms on the edge of your lips, "C'mon guys, we're almost done. When this is over, we have a party with Mr.Soot's class. C'mon. Now, if the one is carried-"
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kristiliqua · 4 months
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“i just can’t go through this again …
i find my comfort in envisioning the end”
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cssandraa · 2 years
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They will always be winners in my heart
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