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thesappiestnap · 3 years
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on frizzy hair and the pursuit of perfection
pairing: quackity x reader
rating and warnings: g; none
prompt: this ask
summary: Where the reader feels worthless and is constantly talked down upon by family and friends, but Q tries his best to make sure they know he is very proud of them.
Intellectually, in the rational side of your brain, you know that what you’re feeling is stupid.
You see the Instagram posts talking about the importance of self-affirmation and mental health. You see the tweets saying that people are more than their family’s perception of them. You realize that having a condescending and judgmental family is almost a right of passage for your generation.
These are all things you know, intellectually. But knowing something intellectually does jack shit for actually convincing your heart of whatever you know. You can yell at yourself all you want, but it’s clearly not your rational brain making you tear up at yet another text from your dad that was along the lines of “cool, could be better, though.”
You just want someone, just once, to celebrate an achievement with you. You want to be excited to share something with someone, without fear of them scoffing in the face of your pride and excitement. In your family- hell, in the world, certainly- someone has always done better, and you’re damn sure to be reminded of such.
It’s been years of this same behavior, ever since you can remember. It’s not just your dad, either, it’s your whole family- aunts, uncles, grandparents, cousins. The whole town you grew up in had this haughty, arrogant air about it, where everyone was constantly competing, even if there was no reason for it. Take the hardest classes, get the least sleep, get the biggest scholarship. Even your friends would flex their better test scores at you, and refuse to help you with the homework, in case you somehow got a better score on a test than them. You know it’s how they were raised, they’re just a product of their environment and don’t know how bad it hurts, but it still stung then, and probably always will. You’re still in contact with a few of them, and it’s just more of the same whenever you exchange a handful of quick texts every couple months.
You know you should stop giving information about your achievements to them, but when your dad texts and asks how you are, there’s not much you can reply with other than “good, got a promotion at work!” From there, it’s a slippery slope of him asking what new benefits you got, and then the judgmental few moments where the gray dots disappear and reappear while he tries to compose his thoughts about your inadequacy in the least-abrasive way a middle-aged man can. That is to say, not un-abrasively at all. In fact, his words are often delivered with the finesse of low-grit sandpaper on soft wood.
Well, could be more. Work harder and maybe you’ll get an increase next month. I got a lot of bonuses at work when I was your age. All you have to do is take the bad shifts and get some good customer reviews. You’ll get there.
You stare at the fresh new message on your phone screen before clicking it off with a bone-deep sigh, your eyes betraying your rational side by, again, tearing up. You shove the heels of your hands into your eyes and rub until the tears are forced away and you see spots.
That’s how Alex finds you, sat on the foot of your shared bed with your hands rubbing fiercely at your eyes. He’s probably just come to grab a hoodie- the setting sun brings with it a cool breeze that washes through your open windows and cools the house from the warmth it’d gathered from the day’s sun.
“You good?” He asks, opening his closet door and pulling out a hoodie. He wrestles it on over his head as he waits for your response- when he pushes his head out the other end, hair mussed and static-y, you still haven’t answered. “Baby?”
He comes and sits down next to you. Your eyes, red-rimmed but still dry, track his movements before flicking to catalog every tuft of disheveled hair protruding from his head. With a superficial smile, you reach up to smooth his long, black locks back and down into place. It doesn’t matter; he’s going to slip on a beanie sooner or later, but for now, you distract yourself by combing gentle fingers through the soft strands.
“Not that I don’t appreciate this,” Alex murmurs, brown eyes searching your face for an answer to what has you upset. “But what’s wrong?”
“Just my dad,” you whisper, not trusting your voice not to crack. You avoid his gaze, keeping your eyes fixed stubbornly on his hair as you finish your work. “There. You looked like a hedgehog.”
He huffs a little laugh, but scoots closer to you and grabs a hand out of your lap- you’d curled your hands into tight fists, your nails digging little red crescents into your palm. He uncurls the hand he’s holding and reaches for the other, but you save him the work by instead grabbing onto your own thigh tightly, redirecting the frustration. He rubs small circles into the aching skin of your other palm while he waits for you to gather yourself and explain, now that the ice has been broken on the topic.
“He always acts like whatever I do is just not quite good enough for him. They all do- him, my mom, even my fucking friends.” You rub your free hand down your face, trying to alleviate some tension. It does not work. “I don’t know why I’m still upset. They’ve been doing it forever.”
“That’s probably why you’re still upset. You hope they’d grown up enough to stop doing that.” Alex presses his thumb into the center of your palm. It grounds you, and you swallow around the lump in your throat.
“It’s not even a matter of immaturity- it’s not as simple as a pissing contest. It’s just who they are. They don’t think perfection exists, but they want me to achieve it anyways.”
“I’m sorry, sweetheart. That sounds exhausting.”
He sounds so sincere, so genuine, like the idea of you being treated this way is deeply upsetting to him. You’d never really… experienced that. Someone recognizing your struggle, and admitting that it must fucking suck is something you’d never been graced with.
His brow is furrowed in a display of concern, eyes gentle and searching. He’s not lying, he means what he said, and he’s not going to follow it up with a “but-,”.
Eyes beginning to sting again, you lean forward until you’re resting your forehead on his shoulder. The soft fabric of his hoodie immediately calms you, along with the warmth you can feel emanating from him. It makes sense, after all, that the personification of pure sunshine would have such warmth about them.
Alex scoots forward, gathering you more closely in his arms, his legs awkwardly folded so that you can sit right in front of him. His hands come up to hold you, one fisting in the fabric of your sweatshirt, and the other resting on the back of your neck, gentle, but firm. You let out a shuddering breath, squeezing your eyes shut tightly. Not going to cry.
“I got a promotion at work,” you mutter, taking a long, deep breath. You brace yourself, waiting for a dismissive response. “That’s what set my dad off- I got- he-.”
Your voice cracks, and you trail off with a small sigh, clutching at Alex’s hoodie even tighter. It’s thick and soft under your fingers, and you knead at it like a cat.
“A promotion?! Baby, that’s amazing!” Alex pulls back just enough to take a glance at you, his own expression steeling from excitement back to sadness as he sees that you are still fighting back tears. “Sweetheart, I think you’re the only person to ever cry after getting a promotion.”
A little laugh escapes your chest, huffy and wet, but still a laugh. Alex’s lips curl into a smile as he reaches up to smooth back some of your stray hairs, like you’d done for him a moment or two ago. You smile, reaching up to intercept his hand, and lace the two of yours fingers together.
He squeezes your hand where it’s resting in his grip, looking at your linked fingers briefly. “Also, your family is wrong.”
“About what specifically?” You huff, wiping at your eyes for hopefully the final time.
“About perfection not existing. It does, and I know exactly what it looks like.” Despite the serious words, Alex is fighting back a smile. You narrow your eyes at him, already anticipating the next thing he’s going to say. “It looks like you, dumbass.”
You groan, feeling a hot blush rise to your cheeks immediately. You tip forward to bury yourself in Alex’s neck, this time hiding your flustered face and stupidly happy grin.
“I can feel your smile against my neck, you know.”
“Oh, fuck off-.”
With the hand that’s on the back of your neck, Alex coaxes you out of hiding just to press a kiss to your forehead. “Really. I am proud of you. I don’t want you to be afraid to tell me about your achievements because of what your family has done to you.”
“Okay,” you whisper again, voice thick with emotion. “Thank you.”
He hums in response, tilting his head and looking at you with what can only be described as pure fondness in his eyes. Then, he leans down to meet you for a delicate kiss, and your eyes finally stop stinging.
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thesappiestnap · 3 years
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i've had this idea for a long while, and finally wrote it down. this is like... familial type relationship, like i imagine reader as a slightly older sibling type friend to tommy. i may also make this a series! i'll almost definitely have a part two at the very least. anyways, thanks for reading and enjoy,
Lotus (Rebirth)
"Here. I thought you might like this."
As you plopped the bucket into his hands, you watched with a wry smile as Tommy's whine about a bit of water spilling on his shirt dissolved into stunned and awed silence as his eyes fell onto what was inside.
The flower, barely bigger than the palm of your hand, floated delicately on the surface of the water, its unfurled petals seeming to give off a gentle glow even in the sunlight.
"It's a lotus," you say proudly, "I found it when I was digging up clay in a swamp."
Tommy's mouth drew into a tight line for a moment while he stared at the flower, blinking a little rapidly for a moment before finally clearing his throat. "Yeah, it's alright, I guess," he said in an attempt to sound nonchalant. "Thanks."
You could tell that he was touched by the gift, and wouldn't admit it. But it wasn't even the biggest part of it. You'd had the idea for a while, ever since Tommy came back from the prison... from death... You just couldn't watch him keep falling into more and more hurt. And you had gone a bit on your own since after L'manberg was destroyed, finding it easier to stay away from the fighting of others. Tommy deserved that sort of rest too. You just had to think of how to ask him.
"Did you know that lotuses symbolize rebirth in flower language?"
"Really?" Tommy's tone changed immediately, intrigued. "There's a language for flowers?"
"Yeah, like how you give someone a red rose to symbolize love and passion, other flowers have those kinds of meanings too."
Tommy looked back down at the flower floating in the bucket in his hands, eyebrows furrowing. "Are you trying to send me a secret message? Wai- is this cause I died and came back?! That's very rude, you know, to bring up," he said in the way you knew he was doing a bit.
"Well, no, actually, I hadn't really thought of it like that. But, uh..." You shuffled your feet slightly, fidgeting with the strap of your travel bag on your shoulder. "I was thinking, ya know, maybe it was time for a change for you. I mean, all this shit you've been through, maybe you should sorta... start over. I thought maybe I could help you do that."
He was only more confused by that, tilting his head to the side slightly, looking like a confused puppy. "How's that?"
"Well, I've been working on making a farm since... ya know. Sorta away from everything, but still close enough that I can visit. I made an extra room, ya know, in case I needed it, and it's kinda quiet there and I thought you might like it there." You glanced up at him to see a wide open mouthed smile spreading across his face.
"Are there cows?"
His smile was contagious, you found as one spread on your own face. "And sheep, and chickens. I've been supplying Niki with milk and eggs and crops to start up her bakery again. I was thinking about starting up a shop to make and sell jams and fresh veggies, too. Milk and cheese and butter, maybe bread and cookies. But, ya know, I'd need help for that."
Tommy's eyes- his entire face, really- was aglow. "Yeah! I can help you sell, I'm a great businessman! Salesman Tommy, they call me!"
You smiled as he launched into a tirade about how good at business he was, reminiscing about Tubbo Bathwater. "So you're in?"
"Fuck yeah! We can be business partners and I get 50% of all profits!"
You rolled your eyes a little, but you didn't care much about the profit part of it. "You can take over my spare room then, or build your own place close by, whatever you want. I can take care of most of the farm work if you want to take care of the animals. And since I know you secretly like flowers," you added a bit cheekily, "I have a little garden started. Not much, but you can expand it however you want. I have books that can teach you about gardening techniques and stuff, and I have one about flower language too, if you want to learn."
Tommy jumped around like his feet were on fire, yelling incoherently with happy Tommy noises as water sloshed around his hands onto the grass below. He stopped suddenly- "I have to pack then, make sure I get all my valuables from my 'ome. Oh... my house. What do I do with my house?"
"You can always come back to it. Use it as a place to stay when you come visit, or like a second base or something," you suggested.
"Yeah. Yeah! Right! We have GOT a PLAN! I have to get Friend, and Shroud, oh, do you have any leads-" You had already procured two leads from your bag, tossing them over to him. He beamed, shoving the bucket with the lotus back into your arms. "RIGHT! Hold this for me- I will go get my things, and we can start up, chop chop, there's work to be done!"
He had a fire in his eyes as he ran off towards his little hovel, a look that you hadn't seen in a while, a reminder of the carefree, excitable boy he used to be. You couldn't change what had happened to him, but you'll be damned if you wouldn't help him change his future. You looked down at the lotus, still gently touching the surface of the finally still water in the bucket. This would be Tommy's rebirth.
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thesappiestnap · 3 years
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i had a stressful day yesterday at work and i'm working all day where i am sorta acting as manager to new hires so i wrote this to keep myself from having a panic attack lmaooo is this an imagine? a drabble? who knows, i'm not cleaning it up rn haha.... also uh here's the post that inspired me (aka made me yearn for l'manwilbur https://minecraftaccount.tumblr.com/post/654910348061802496
c!wilbur imagine- l'manberg romance
l'manberg wilbur. him falling in love with you. writing so much about you in his letters to phil and he doesn't say that he's in love with you, but you can tell he looks at you differently. if you are threatened, he's quicker to panic and to defend, and he is always making sure that you have everything you need/want "for the revolution", but really he just worries about you. and as the country builds, as you come home to your shared house (it was more "convenient to share than build two whole houses for each of you") after building all day, you catch him writing a letter to phil.
you are going to ask him if he's eaten dinner yet, and you catch a bit of what he wrote while he's lost in thought enough to not notice your presence.
"and phil, i'm sorry for making fun of your sentimentality about mumza in the past. i've found that i write about y/n much the same, and that they're constantly on my mind, even when they're gone. i think i'm in love. how do you stand it, phil? it's pure agony, but pure bliss."
he sighs, leaning back in his chair, and it's then that he sees you in the corner of his eye, whipping around quickly, already trying to hide the letter. but the redness on your cheeks and the smile on your face tells him that you already read it.
he begins to fumble for words, but stops as you come over to him. he looks up at you, his eyes searching yours as you finally meet his gaze, worry and hope and pure love filled in his beautiful brown eyes. it's so warm, you can't tell if it's your cheeks or your heart that's on fire, but you feel it in the pit of your stomach, burning you as you caress his face in your hands. his eyes flutter shut, a small shaky breath exhaling from his lips as he leans into your touch. you stay like that for a long moment, pressing your forehead to his as his hands cover yours, enveloping you in even more heat. one moves your hand, holding it delicately as he presses it to his lips, and your heart feels like a bird fluttering to escape its cage.
you smile as he opens his eyes, looking up at you again, a bit of a wry smile gracing his face as he lets your hand away from his lips, still holding it. you can't help but smile back.
"have you eaten yet?" you ask, trying to calm your beating heart.
"no, i lost track of time. you must be exhausted from working, i'll make us something, alright? you rest your feet," he says with a fond smile, adding cheekily, "maybe wipe some of the dirt off your face."
as you playfully smack his arm in retaliation, he just laughs, standing up to tower over you.
"one more thing, though," he says, quickly leaning down to your level.
you look at him, about to ask what, when his lips are on yours, soft and turned in a small smile, and gone all to quickly.
you almost can't be mad that he runs off with an impish giggle to the kitchen as you stand there, dumbfounded. don't worry. you'll get him back later. this is only the start.
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thesappiestnap · 3 years
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i saw a compilation of "calling my husband by their first name" tiktoks so.....
calling them by their real name:
dream: .... hwat. did you just fuckig call me cLAY?! WHAT???
sapnap: *stops and looks at you* ... wha... huh? no??? what? did i do something? are you mad at me???
quackity: (mocking tone) *alex~* oh *ALEX*~... you call me [pet name]!
skeppy: DID YOU JUST SAY ZACH?! DID YOU JUST CALL ME ZACH?! awwww babe, you know my name~ but don't call me that, i'm baby to you >:(
bad: nooooooooooo... are you mad? did i make you upset, i'm sorry :(
wilbur: did you just call me william? is-is this a bit or are you mad at me?
techno: (genuinely confused for a moment) who? (recognizes his own name and turns it into a bit) who??? i only know technoblaaaaddeee
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thesappiestnap · 3 years
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I had an idea, what if Ranboo's partner asked him if he could dye his hair like his minecraft character.
I dunno maybe you could do everyone else, i just liked ranboo reactions
i'm assuming that ranboo is the one dying his hair, but i can rewrite if it was supposed to be reader lol
ranboo dying hair hcs
- the idea comes up while you guys are looking at ranboo fanarts on twitter, and you point out one version with split white and black that you really like, and think he could do irl. you joke about it for a moment, and then he says that he'd do it for a sub goal
- of course, the moment chat hears "dyed hair", they all go feral and it's philza buying ranboo food goal all over again. he tries to move the goal up before it's reached but "forgets" finally and they hit it within 30 minutes to his disbelief
- so you make a stream of it (post face reveal so he doesn't have to worry about the mask), where you are following a tutorial on how to bleach and dye. the bleach worries him a bit, but since his hair is fairly light already, it doesn't need to sit very long. of course, he laments the fact that now there's going to be screenshots of him with messy bleach yellow hair
- it goes fine, there's a couple little slip ups and lots of jokes, but it's mainly just chatting with the viewers while you work on his hair, trying to pretend you absolutely know what you're doing, and then letting it sit. he probably plays minecraft for a while while it's sitting, then you entertain stream (inviting tubbo and jack and tommy to vc) while he washes the dye out.
- when he comes back, towel wrapped around his hair, the Boys™️ are all hyping it up while he dramatically reveals it. everyone ends up laughing a little at his expense cause while the black turned out pretty good, the "white" is a strange mesh of silver, purple, and yellow. "and this is why we already booked an appointment at a hair salon," he half jokes. you both already knew that it would turn out a bit scuffed, and warned the hairdresser as well. but you had fun, and everyone loves it... chat starts calling him "e-boo" and tommy and tubbo immediately jump onto that and jack starts suggesting things to do an eboy makeover, big Ts add on, it's a whole mess that ranboo knows he is going to have to provide chat one day.
- anyways, he gets it properly done the next day, fixing everything up, and it looks awesome, and he spends most of the day making tik toks and taking pictures to tweet, some of them a sorta cosplay as his character
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thesappiestnap · 3 years
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HAIII IMM BACKK!! ok first of all hello, happy pride, drink some food eat some water. Also i have a request! ok so ranboo said he was ok with stuff like romantic fluff but no smut or sexualizing so can i have a dating ranboo hc?
AYOOOOO!!! also sorry i've been dead as heck lol i started a new job and been grinding on the Craft 😎 don't worry, i've been spending my pride just fucking simping over wilbhore slut and exchanging imagine scenarios with my friend about different aus (and providing them with techno ones heh) ... i'll have to share some with the class... ANYWAYS onto what you asked for
dating ranboo hcs
- he is awkward as hell irl, so he will joke and talk a big game when you're talking online/over messages, but the second he sees you irl, he is much quieter, a little awkward in his movements in the way that he's clearly trying to hide how awkward he feels, and his jokes don't come quite as easy.
- of course, the more you hang out irl, the more comfortable he feels, and he soon becomes as boisterous when it's just the two of you, and you'll see peeks of it when you're out and about
- which btw, you are his rock when you go out shopping or anything to do with the Real World, and he will rarely leave your side, trying to make bits and joke with you to distract himself from his anxiety
- i think he would be a very casual dater, like, he isn't one for huge gestures and it might even be rare to hear him say "i love you", but the way he is with you just makes it clear that you are together. it's the way he always looks to you first to see if you laughed at his joke, the easy way he smiles while you get lost talking about something you are passionate about, the little ways he touches you once he's more comfortable (leaning against your shoulder when you're sitting, putting his arm around you in a lazy way, holding your hand on rare occasions when you are walking)
- speaking of physical touch, i think he isn't huge on it. he'll cuddle if you ask, but he isn't the one to start it. he's more comfortable to just sit beside you. deffo quality time as a love language
- when he streams, you will be invited 75% of the time (the only time he won't is if he thinks he's bothering you or knows that you're busy. most of the time when he has a stream planned with another streamer, but even then he'll invite you to at least vc half the time). and absolutely, no question, there is at least one 2 hour stream of the two of you playing fireboy and watergirl on facecam, and at one point you switch characters but not spots. you just reach over each other, laughing as you make each other fail by being in the way.
- his chat fucking love you, and he'll joke that you are stealing his chat from him and then it becomes a running bit that chat are just y/n simps stans. if you get hate, you have ranboo and thousands of people jumping to your defense
- which, on a sadder note, if it became a problem, ranboo would make tweets and such about it, but if you weren't a streamer and it was affecting you, he would close off your relationship to the public, making sure that the hate couldn't reach you anymore and stop the talk.
- but that's worse case scenario! on the whole, he would be supportive and include you in his road to fame, bragging about you and making sure that you are happy and doing well in your life and in the relationship <3
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thesappiestnap · 3 years
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high techno!?? high cuddly techno hugs?? techno is a radiator ple ase philza has a Special garden in his basement
djdidkdjdidjdjdjnd ily "anon" so take my brain dump as a gift, like a slimey goop plopped directly into your hands <3
also i'm writing techno as a beefy human shifter cause 😎
---
techno didn't care much when phil started his "special" garden, he thought it was kinda funny, more than anything. plus, it was small, phil had told him it was more for the memories of his younger years, but suggested it for any pain he might have. and phil had stopped complaining about his achy shoulder since he started smoking the herbs. and, well, techno had been having the occasional migraine ever since that anvil got dropped on him, even if the totem had saved him.
so now techno was sitting on the floor of his house, staring at steve with a foggy mind. phil hadn't been joking when he said getting high was a new experience. where'd phil go? off flirting with death. no, really, he had wandered out for a little bit to go talk to his wife, although techno didn't quite understand what that meant still. that's fine though, steve was laying in front of him, and he was very soft and warm, so nothing else really mattered. and it was so quiet. the voices were quiet, only the occasional word or phrase slipping into his consciousness. it was nice.
meanwhile, you were out in the snow, freezing from the little flurry that was now sticking to your clothes. maybe you should've asked techno through the comms to do the trade closer to the warmer climate, since you didn't exactly have the clothes meant for this weather. but nooo, you didn't want to bother him to come all the way out. now you were paying for it, as your jacket did next to nothing against the cold breeze. for the love of dreamxd, you hoped techno would actually be willing to trade.
finally, you arrived to the cottage, gently knocking on the door with stiff knuckles. you heard the "HEH?" called out at the same moment you noticed a slight strange smell. you let him know that it's you, hearing no response. that seemed unusual. you call his name again, getting another "HEH?" in reply. you ask if you can come in and he just answers with an "i guess".
the room is still slightly smokey, and as you look at the pink-haired man half-draped over the polar bear, his eyes slightly reddened and unfocused as he looks at you, you understand.
"what're you doin' here?" he asks you, sitting up a little, his legs shifting from splayed out to crisscrossed.
"uh.... i wanted to do a trade, but i guess it's a, uh... bad time?"
"oh. yeah, phil gave me drugs, i blame him. kinda cool though, real quiet in the head," he asentuates his point with a tap on his temple.
"ah." well. this was a bit awkward now. but you also didn't want to trek all the way back out just yet. even thinking about it, you shivered, crossing your arms over your chest.
"you look like a chihuahua, shakin' there like that. close the door. you should've brought a better coat," he says, sighing as he gives up appearances in front of you and sinks backwards into steve's fur again, earning a soft grunt.
"didn't have one. not all of us live in the middle of snowy tundras, you know," you quipped back, making sure to sound grumpy even though you gratefully shut the door to block out the wind, coming further inside towards the fireplace.
"i suppose, but i'm the one with a polar bear, so i win," techno mumbled, sinking down a little, letting his legs untangle to steady himself in his position.
you hummed softly in agreement, standing closer to the fire, squatting down to hold your hands in front of it. there were some questions, but you decided they didn't need to be answered right now, especially since you techno may not give you a serious answer in the best of times.
glancing over at him, your eyes wandered over his tangled hair, loose for once from its braid and draping around his shoulders like a cape. his glasses were slightly skewed on his nose, his shirt slightly undone at the top. it was certainly a difference to the put together image he typically maintained. his eyes were closed, and he looked so peaceful, a little younger than the battleworn warrior he usually was. and he looked so warm. his thick torso and beefy arms, they looked like they could hug you so tight...
a little lost in your thoughts, you didnt realize for a moment that one of his eyes had opened, and he was now looking back at you questioningly.
"can i hug you?" blurted from your lips before you could stop them. your face heated up slightly as you stammered out, "you- you look warm and it was just really cold out there so it might help warm me up. sorry, that's weird, isn't it?"
techno stared at you, as if debating what to say, for a long moment before a slow, "suuurrreee...." finally came.
you scooted over beside him, hesitantly finding your arms around his torso while he held his arms up like he didn't know what to do with them. as you cuddled closer to him, he slowly and carefully put his arms down, awkwardly placing one against your back, the other going to sit in his lap until he realized how cold your skin really was, and then his hand was on your arm as he chastised you again about your ill preparation for the weather.
but you were just thinking about how right you were about his warmth, and how much better it was than you even thought. unconsciously, you were sinking further into his chest, reveling in how firm yet still soft he felt. and after a few minutes of the fire crackling and steve snoring softly, you could feel him relax slowly as well. you were certainly warming up faster, and your eyelids began to feel heavy....
when phil returned, he found you and techno both fast asleep on the floor, half-laying on steve, curled into each other in a happy little cuddle. he couldn't help but smile happily, and maybe he took a quick picture to show ranboo later before closing the door gently behind him. he could already tell his crowd were going to rat him out on the picture, but he didn't mind much, as he put a copy of it on his wall.
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thesappiestnap · 3 years
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if the prices go up i'll cry, sage notplanning, that is a threat
the new layout is like when you go to your local mcdonald's that sells the *best* fries of all of the ones in town and then all of a sudden you go in and it's gentrified /j /lh - 🌹
DID YOU CALL MY BLOG GENTRIFIED WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO WITH THIS /LH
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thesappiestnap · 3 years
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*kisses your forehead gently while absolutely crying everywhere*
sage my beloved... as someone who is intelligent but often feels like they aren't smart enough, always mediocre at everything they do, who feels like they aren't living up to their own potential and doesn't know how, and is insecure about how they act around friends often makes them be seen as dumb and immature,,,, alex quackity comforting a reader who is just Having A Day where that is taking a huge toll on their self worth,,, -🌹 anon
this one is interesting because a lot of these insecurities i can see quackity being really understanding about. he seems to always strive to be better and better and better and then the best, and this is so clear from the content of his lore streams but also how he talks about them on twitter and how he is always trying to outdo himself. and this would come with a lot of disappointment and insecurity and internalized anger whenever he feels like he missed the mark.
and the dumb and immature thing? we know that most of his viewers perceive his stream persona as his real one. the silly, goofy, "stupid" persona he puts on for entertainment blurs the lines between acting and reality when he doesn't know how to turn it off, and sometimes when he's a bit too enthusiastic in an off-stream call he hangs up with a pit of frustration and regret in his chest because he wished he hadn't acted like that.
so if you ever tell him you're feeling the same way? beyond sympathy, he straight up understands and actually gets it which is so validating and relieving. and he says all the right things while you sit on the foot of the bed, leaning into him while he pets a tender hand up and down your back, murmuring comforting words into your ear. he's a bit unsure, treading carefully, not too sure where his experiences end and your unique ones begin, not wanting to overstep or assume but you keep nodding and taking trembling breaths that he thinks are good? and so he keeps going and going and at some point you just bring your arms up to wrap around his neck, burrow your nose into the hollow between his throat and his collarbones and stutter out a "thank you" to which he swallows heavily, forcing down the emotion collecting in his throat and instead bringing a hand up to card through your hair like its fine silk.
telling you how smart and capable and worthy and delightful you are is what he dedicates himself to doing for the next considerable chunk of time. and he finds raw emotions a bit uncomfortable and, well, raw sometimes but once he starts talking it all just comes out like a broken dam and he's saying everything he wishes he could hear- all "i know the real you, your friends know the real you, you're more than just the dumb comedic relief baby," and "your potential is only determined by yourself, you don't owe anyone anything, you only have to do what you want to do, you're not disappointing anyone and especially not me, baby, i'm so proud of you-" and when he's said all he can and you're just absentmindedly sniffling into his skin and he's slightly rocking the two of you back and forth, he goes for the classic "love you so much, y'know that right?" and "so smart, so good-" and at some point your consciousness lapses and you wake up in bed, wearing one of his hoodies and tucked into the comforters with one of his arms thrown protectively over your waist.
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thesappiestnap · 3 years
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did i stutter
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i hope q is surviving finals somehow. dont think about finding him asleep at his desk and waking him by softly running your hands through his hair and down his neck to his shoulders until he groans and turns to shove his nose into your chest and wrap his arms around your middle!!
or about how grumbly he would be as he drags himself out of bed to go study or some shit and you have to push down the urge to just cling onto him and beg him to stay just a liiiiittle longer
and the fact that once he finishes the last final he probably just sleeps for 12 hours is one very dear to me. finally able to catch up on the time you missed, now spread out next to him in bed, comforter pooling around your ankles as you stroke up and down his back with your fingertips while he snores into your shoulder!!
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thesappiestnap · 3 years
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dream brainrot. emotionally connected to mask. made drabble. take.
Mask
His hair was getting longer, you noticed. It fell in front of his eyes, shut peacefully in sleep. He didn't notice the afternoon sunlight coming into the room, or else didn't care.
He wouldn't say it, but he'd had a rough night. More drama on twitter, more hate on him for no real reason, more mental toll he said doesn't bother him.
But you could see it. Those moments he sighed, and for a moment, his mask slipped. You could see the weariness hanging from his shoulders, dragging him to sink a little lower in his seat. The dark circles under his eyes heavy as his tired eyes read over yet another tweet.
And the moment he realized you were standing in the doorway, he would put the mask back on, the smile plastered to his face as he pretended it didn't effect him.
"I'm fine," he'd say as you worried about him.
You had to get him to bed by telling him that you were the one who needed someone there. Yet when he held you, you could feel how much he needed the comfort in his grip and the way he buried his face into the crook of your neck.
He wouldn't tell you he was hurting. He wouldn't take off his mask, not fully, not even for you.
But as he opened his eyes in the light to see you watching him, a little smile graced his lips. Soft good mornings and a small kiss, the night's weariness momentarily forgotten, he smiled. He wasn't wearing the mask.
His smile was real.
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thesappiestnap · 3 years
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sage notplanning i will eat you
i hope q is surviving finals somehow. dont think about finding him asleep at his desk and waking him by softly running your hands through his hair and down his neck to his shoulders until he groans and turns to shove his nose into your chest and wrap his arms around your middle!!
or about how grumbly he would be as he drags himself out of bed to go study or some shit and you have to push down the urge to just cling onto him and beg him to stay just a liiiiittle longer
and the fact that once he finishes the last final he probably just sleeps for 12 hours is one very dear to me. finally able to catch up on the time you missed, now spread out next to him in bed, comforter pooling around your ankles as you stroke up and down his back with your fingertips while he snores into your shoulder!!
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thesappiestnap · 3 years
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i'll cry about it to my karl youtooz
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i've had One dream about quackity and i remember nothing of it but alex quackity kissed me and i was like. crying when i woke up and realized it wasn't real -🌹
seek help /lh timeout for longing
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thesappiestnap · 3 years
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ayo i finally fixed it so anons can send asks cause i'm a dummy who had forgotten to turn on anon asks uwu
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thesappiestnap · 3 years
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ok first of all your so amazing like your writing is so good.
tell me if i'm bothering you with these request btw
buttt...
hear me out..
tubbo had a bad day:(
and your reading or watching a movie or sumthin :)
and he walks in super tired T^T
and lays down and puts his head in your lap UWU
and the sad bee boy just needs a lil comfort :3
inniterhq pointed out tubbo doesn't like romantic fic bout him so any tubbo gonna be platonic uwu (and you aren't, it's fun!) (it also ended up nothing like what you asked sorry djdidjdj)
Comforting a tired bee boy (hc)
i think in this scenario, you're visiting his house, staying with them for a week or something, and he's streaming. maybe you're in the room but out of frame, just chillin on his bed reading or playing on your phone, half listening to his commentary, trying to keep your laughs to yourself. maybe he's playing some sort of puzzle game or something that takes a lot of skill, and he can't beat a part he needs to, and be the end of stream, he's frustrated and still hadnt beat it.
he spins around, groaning as he faces you with a pout, getting up from the chair just to flop onto you, whining "i hate this gaaaaammeeee!" you laugh, patting his head. bonus points, you knew how to beat it the whole time, and when you tell him, he picks up his pillow and starts hitting you with it, yelling, "YOU KNEW THE WHOLE TIME AND DIDNT TELL ME???!"
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thesappiestnap · 3 years
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hi!! i don't mean to be rude, hopefully this doesn't come across that way, but tubbo has indicated discomfort towards romantic fanfic, so i would stick to strictly platonic as to not cross his boundaries!
/nm
oh shit u right, sorry! for the minors especially i try not to go to into it anyways, like crushes/puppy love at the most, so that's fine tbh lol
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thesappiestnap · 3 years
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shUT i WILL cry on you,,, i think it's just practice lol, for a while the last couple years, i was daily writing in a text rp where like i would write a snippet in one character pov, then the other would respond with theirs, and i would get excited so respond as quick as i could lolll
ARE REQUESTS STILL OPEN???!?!?! but if i have already sent you a different request don't worry i don't want to rush you
ye! i'll probably never have them closed tbh, it'll just be a matter of which ones catch my attention, and i'll still post any that i can't/don't feel comfy doing letting them know so they don't have to wonder
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