Remade 2 Of Them. And Then I Made Fundy's! Time To Do More Work On The Actual Writing More Sadge

Remade 2 of them. And then I made Fundy's! Time to do more work on the actual writing more sadge

Distance - Wilbur Soot x M!Reader

Hi, I'm writing an xreader story and decided to make little mood boards for it. Might remake Wilbur's (possibly y/n's too) though since I don't 100% like his.

I'm also planning on making a few more but what do you think? First time making mood boards so I hope they don't suck.

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Requests Are Open. Anons welcome. Taglists coming soon.

Key List:

💛 = platonic

❤ = romantic

💜 = romantic or platonic

💚 = small mini-posts on my alt

↳ 𝕎𝕚𝕝𝕓𝕦𝕣 𝕊𝕠𝕠𝕥

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↳ 𝔽𝕦𝕟𝕕𝕪

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↳ 𝔻𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕞

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↳ 𝔾𝕖𝕠𝕣𝕘𝕖

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↳ ℙ𝕙𝕚𝕝𝕫𝕒 𝕄𝕚𝕟𝕖𝕔𝕣𝕒𝕗𝕥

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↳ 𝔼𝕣𝕖𝕥

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↳ 𝕋𝕖𝕔𝕙𝕟𝕠𝔹𝕝𝕒𝕕𝕖

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↳ 𝕋𝕠𝕞𝕞𝕪

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↳ 𝕋𝕦𝕓𝕓𝕠

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↳ ℝ𝕒𝕟𝕓𝕠𝕠

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↳ ℙ𝕦𝕣𝕡𝕝𝕖𝕕

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↳ 𝕂𝕒𝕣𝕝

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↳ 𝕊𝕒𝕡𝕟𝕒𝕡

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↳ ℚ𝕦𝕒𝕔𝕜𝕚𝕥𝕪

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↳ 𝔹𝕒𝕕𝔹𝕠𝕪ℍ𝕒𝕝𝕠

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↳ 𝔸𝕨𝕖𝕊𝕒𝕞𝔻𝕦𝕕𝕖

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↳ 𝔽𝕠𝕠𝕝𝕚𝕤𝕙 𝔾𝕒𝕞𝕖𝕣𝕤

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↳ 𝔾𝕣𝕚𝕒𝕟

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↳ ℕ𝕚𝕜𝕚 ℕ𝕚𝕙𝕒𝕔𝕙𝕦

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About me

The American And The Brit 💜

(They/them pronouns)

(800+ words)

Description: Wilbur has a love or host. Unexpectedly though, you are right by his side. His clingy, American, flatmate.

A/N: Whether you take this as platonic or romantic is up to you.

[Rest of the story under the cut]

{《☆》}

Wilbur was being boring today. You wanted to spend the day together and play some horror games, you even offered to let him stream it. But no, he wanted to have a "Love or Host" and find himself someone to replace you.

Okay, maybe you were being dramatic.

"Wil!" You whined, holding onto his leg tightly. "Don't leave me."

"Americans are so annoying," Wilbur whispered under his breath. Sighing, he reached down to pull you off. "If you want, you can stay in the room."

"No." You stubbornly denied. It was getting harder to not let go, so you were starting to make your eyes teary. "You're not allowed to leave me."

Wilbur grumbled, trying not to look you in the eye. When he managed to pry your hand off his leg, you started sniffling.

"Okay fine!" Wilbur broke. "I still have to do it since I promised Austin, but you can be right next to me."

"But," You loudly sniff. "I want cuddles."

Wilbur accidentally looked you in the eyes, seeing your pitiful puppy eyes and cracking under the tears. "Fine. Fine..."

"Thank you," You grin happily, still attached to his legs. "I love you, bestie."

"Call me that again and I will just throw you in the wheelie bin."

{《☆》}

"Wilbur! Wel-, uh hello other person? Wilbur who is this?"

"Austin, this is Y/N. They are my flatmate and they forced me to bring them to my Love or Host." Wilbur sighed. You rest your head on Wilbur's shoulder and relax, just watching as Austin awkwardly nod along. "They'll just be here and do nothing. They're very clingy."

You poked Wilbur in the stomach, pouting. "You're the clingy one."

"Well, I suppose it's not too big of a deal. As long as they're not problematic, it's fine."

"Y/N doesn't even have Twitter."

Austin laughed. Then, he opened up the call and the contestants started pouring in.

Idly, you closed your eyes and played with one of Wilburs hands. They let you, talking softly with Austin as they started explaining the show.

"Er, who is that?"

"Niki, this is Y/N. They wanted to be clingy today so I had to bring them with me."

You opened an eye, poking Wilbur in the cheek and turning to face the camera. "He is lying. Wilbur is lying to your face. He demanded I be here. For moral support. And also because he is deeply and totally in love with me."

The group started laughing, making you grin wirly at Wilbur. Your roommate flushed and pokes you back.

"They're American though?" The Irish one asked. Minx, if you recall correctly.

"I came here because Wilbur convinced me to and then I got accepted to a college. It was practically entrapment because I'm stuck here now."

"Oh, shut up." Wilbur pinched your cheek, making you pull away and whine. "You're such an annoying American."

You frowned comically. "And you're a depressed e-boy."

"Austin, Y/N is bullying me!" Wilbur started whining. You smiled and closed your eyes again. Resting your head against his chest, you fell asleep for a few moments.

{《☆》}

"He's eating another fucking banana!"

Minx's loud yells made you groan as the group started cackling. You twisted until you were pressed even closer to Wilbur, trying to block out the noise.

"Oh," Wilbur whispered, pressing a hand to your back to help you fix yourself. He ran his fingers through the back of your hair, gently tracing random shapes. "Go back to sleep, it's okay."

"Hmm," You hummed. It was a weird limbo between awake and asleep. You could feel and hear everything, but the warm gooey feeling Wilbur made you feel kept you melted into a pile of sleepy goo.

"- so when you choose me and we go on a date-,"

"Mine," You mumbled, clutching tighter onto Wilbur. No one reacted, so you were probably too quiet about it. Louder, you said. "Mine."

"Y/N, shush." Wilbur patted your head. You shook your head sleepily, "No. Mine."

"That's actually adorable, Willington." Baffy comments, smiling at you. "I mean, yeah sure. You can have him."

Austin laughs. "Baffy? What the hell?"

"What?" She defends herself, "They're cute together."

"True." Another contestant agrees. "Are we just third wheeling right now?"

"Mhm," You mumbled softly. "My Wil." You let yourself relax again, blinking up at an exasperated Wilbur. With a dopey smile, you nuzzle your nose in his neck.

"I kinda don't want to win." Minx muttered. Niki blinked before nodding along.

"Is-, Y/N is somehow winning? And they're not even a contestant?" Austin said, thoroughly confused. You grin, sleepily blinking at the webcam.

"He's mine." You agree. Wilbur sighs and shakes his head. "I don't think I'm allowed to disagree." You pout when he stops running his hands through your hair. He barely lasts a second before he starts again.

{《☆》}

"Wilbur, since I won can we go cuddle."

"I don't think I have much of a choice, Y/N... You're such an annoying American."

"I love you too, British boy."

{《☆》}

[I haven't watched Wil's loh since it happened so the only people mentioned are people I only vaguely remember existing in it.]

[Either you're a clingy best friend or your a clingy person with a crush. The clingy isn't optional.]

[-L0v3, k1ng]

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Mr.Loverman ❤

(Any pronouns)

(500+ Words)

Description: You spend a lazy day with Technoblade.

[Read the rest under the cut]

{《☆》}

Brr... Brr...

Blearily, you open your eyes. The annoying alarm on your nightstand starts ringing again. It takes you a few extra seconds to slam down on the button, but when you do, you fall back onto the bed.

Techno shifts in his sleep, arms tightening on you when you fall back on the bed. His long pink hair looks like a halo around his head, messy strands splayed over your pillow too.

"We have to get up," You softly yawn. Pressing a quick forehead kiss, you try to sit up again. "C'mon." His arms tighten more and he pulls you closer.

Techno huffs, snuggling closer and nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck. "No."

You shake your head fondly, a small smile quirked on your lips. Life could wait. You twist a bit to rest part of your cheek against his head, throwing an arm around his waist and entangling your legs.

Releasing a relaxed sigh, you pressed a loving kiss to his head. Before you realized it, you had your eyes closed.

{《☆》}

"Mmm..." You groan, turning to bury your head in Techno's chest. Instead, you find air. It seems your partner managed to escape you.

"Techno," You called out half-heartedly. Distantly, you could hear noise from the kitchen. Yawning, you slowly got up. Carefully, you stepped onto the hardwood floor. Cold.

You hated walking barefoot in the morning, but Techno was outside in the kitchen and you wanted kisses.

The open-arched entry was lit up by the sunlight, giving you a perfect view of a humming Techno. Quietly, he handled breakfast and practically floated across the room. His pretty pink hair was tied up into a loose ponytail, like when he trained out front with Phil.

You stepped closer, wrapping your arms around his waist. He tensed for a second before he relaxed into your chest. "Hey."

"Hey," You pressed a kiss to the back of his neck. Techno gives a small laugh, turning to press your foreheads together.

"Didn't we have something to do today?" Techno asks lowly.

You shrug. "You wanted to cuddle and I am a weak man."

Techno rolls his eyes, a fond smile showing off the cute little dimple that's only on his left side. You can't help but press a kiss to his cheek, rubbing circles on their side with your thumb.

"I love you."

"I know. Now let me finish your breakfast."

{《☆》}

You didn't let Techno go mining. You wanted to just spend a lazy day inside with him. It was actually easy to get him trapped inside, all you had to do was just force him onto the couch and start a movie and he started to get distracted.

You ran a hand through his hair, scraping your nails across his scalp gently. Techno hummed lowly, pressing closer. They blinked blearily up at you, a soft smile gently spread across his face.

Their head rested in your lap, so it was an awkward angle. But you leaned down anyways, pressing a sweet kiss to his pretty lips. Techno grinned, his attention caught on you alone.

You leaned back, tracing a finger along his face slowly. Techno sighed softly, relaxing again. He took deep breaths, shifting to press closer.

Gently, you caressed his cheek. "I love you."

"I love you too," He sleepily grumbled.

{《☆》}

[i am many hours late. subscribe to technoblade. follow me. goodbye.]

[L0v3, k1ng]

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Wing Care But Families Are Hard💛

They/Them Pronouns)

(1000+ words)

Description: You go visit home after a few weeks. Phil, your grandpa, greets you in the living room. Things don't settle well and it comes to a head while he preens your wings. (Platonic Philza x Reader)

[Read the rest under the cut]

{《☆》}

"Hey Phil," You said, pushing open the door of Techno's home. Just like you thought he'd be, Phil was reading a book as he curled up on the couch. You stretched your wings out a bit, shaking them out a bit.

"I'm still jealous you can do that," Phil complained as he stretched his arms. You laughed at him, flying in the rain was horrendous when you didn't have an oil gland. You never had to worry though. You could fly in the rain for a bit if you really wanted to.

You didn't often because having wet wings was more than mildly uncomfortable but you still could.

Phil walked over to you, settling a towel on your head. You grinned up at him, wrapping your arms around him quickly.

"Woah-!" Phil laughed. Gently, he ran a hand through your hair. You melted into the touch, relaxing until you were leaning heavily on Phil. "You're so cold, mate."

"Mhm," It's a distant answer, too busy focusing on the mini-preening to your head to answer. You click your tongue in contentment, feeling a low rumble build up in your throat. "I think your wings need to be preened, Y/N."

You groan, too relaxed to do it yourself. "Can you help?"

"Of course."

He gently pulls away, settling you down on the couch. You shuffled to curl away and spread out one of your wings. He gently ran a hand through them, looking for blood feathers.

Carefully, he made sure to avoid them when he pulled out feathers. Gently and carefully, soothing and relaxing. You crooned happily, melting back against the couch.

You closed your eyes, feeling nothing but gooey as he gently fixed up your wings. It'd been so long since your last preening, back when Tommy was still living under the basement in his makeshift home. It was cold but it was nice as Tommy preened them.

You missed him... You hadn't been allowed to see him after... everything. Your dad was too overprotective to let you see your thrice backstabbing uncle.

"You okay," Phil asked softly, carding a gentle hand through your fluffed up mahogany feathers.

Tommy was never like Phil when he preened. Tommy was quick and nimble but soft. Phil was slow and gentle and tough. Years of experience compared to Tommy's slight hesitation or fumbling. But your uncle was always hesitant recently...

You nodded weakly. "Yeah, just-... I-I miss him..."

"So do I," Phil admitted, the same rough edge from when he talked about Wilbur coming through. "But you know why you can't see him."

You bit your tongue. "Not even after his death?" You wanted to ask. Instead, you sighed.

"Because he's a liar and backstabber," You recited your father's words like they were your own. "He only ever treated Dad like a weapon."

"Family meant nothing to him," Phil stressed, plucking a father out with a sudden pinch. "We meant nothing to him."

You shook your head. They didn't know Tommy like you did, even if they thought they did. Admittedly, he hadn't told you everything, but you knew a majority of the twisted things Dream had done to your once headstrong and stubborn uncle.

And you knew exactly what family meant to him. It meant Wilbur and Techno and Phil. But it also meant Tubbo and Fundy and Niki and L'Manberg. Family was a sore subject but on the late nights where he was too broken to care about reputations, he cried to you about how much he still loved Tubbo and L'Manburg. They had hurt him, he had hurt them.

In the end, their blood-strengthened bond had been stronger than weak, years old ties.

And it did hurt.

You had thought that, maybe, he would actually become your uncle that you've been hearing stories about. The Tommy that waged wars with gods and won with only a ragtag group of kids. The Tommy who had been a conman long before he became family.

But things had changed and he had changed. In the end, you can only be glad he is still alive.

"How has Snowchester been?" Phil filled in the silence, plucking another feather. "I heard Ranboo and Tubbo adopted a kid."

"Yeah," You managed after a few seconds, thoughts and words dying on your tongue. "Micheal is a sweet kid. He's starting to talk, kinda."

Phil nods, running a hand through your feathers a final time and patting your shoulder. You leaned away, settling on the opposite side of the couch.

The rain seemed to pour harder, fighting against the windows like a beast. It didn't usually rain around your dad's house, but you supposed there's a first time for everything.

"Phil," It's hard to find the right words. It's like your mind is forgetting your entire vocabulary. A part of you is saying bail, but it's the cowardly part of you. The part that took after Phil.

"Did you ever love Tommy?"

It's an easier question than "do you love me?".

"I-," Phil tries, his brows furrowed. Their purple wings, already so pale, shift awkwardly. It's uncomfortable how long it's taking him to answer. "Of course I did-, do. Of course I do."

It's not the answer you were looking for. You craved something more honest, and something more caring. It was silly to dream when you had already known the answer.

"Yeah," You muster, staring out the window. "I should probably go soon."

"So soon-?" Phil says, a little more brokenly than earlier. "But-?"

"Tubbo'll need help with putting Micheal to bed." You offer weakly. "They're so hyper that it's a two-person job."

"I see." They sigh, giving you a tight smile nonetheless. "Visit again soon. Techno hasn't admitted it yet but he misses you. You're his kid."

"Wilbur being your kid didn't stop you from killing him."

You bite your tongue and nod. When you step out, the rain feels heavy as you fly away from your grandfather.

Tubbo wasn't expecting you back until Sunday and you didn't really have a house built anywhere else.

Tommy's hotel could use a customer, right?

{《☆》}

[lol this was written a while back but I'm finally getting around to posting it. Anyway happy pride month! I'm going to be posting double today in honour of da gay. ]

[L0v3, k1ng]

Double, Double Toil And Trouble ❤

Request (kinda) by @shroombby : "HEAR ME OUT. witch!origin!reader who makes potions for wilbur to help with his weakness to the sun?"

[They/Them]

[1000+ words]

Description: You're just a witch and he's just a (phantom) boy. Can I make it any more obvious?

[Read more under the cut]

{《☆》}

You were a very powerful person. A witch origin whose veins were flooded with magic and whose hands were born calloused to brew. You were born to be trouble and that is what made you dangerous.

With just one potion of strength on you, you could massacre half of the origins in a minute. Maybe less. And with the next long period of time your skills gave you, the rest could be dead too. And that was half the fun, leaning across the thin line of life and death.

Most of the other origins didn't seem to realize what being a witch truly meant.  Physically, you were like a human. But when you brewed, the world sang. And when you laughed, the mountains shook. Effecting the world and its inhabitant is why witches existed.

Chaos was purely what you decided to take away from existing. Why live if you weren't going to have some excitement.

Although one, admittedly adorable, phantom boy was likely a dozen times more chaotic than you ever strived to be. He was unhinged, Wilbur was. A dirty crime boy and a heathen to society.

Poor Wilby though stuck indoors because of his own biology. Burned by sunlight, like a vampire.

"Please! Y/N, I just want to go out in the sun like a regular person." Wilbur grovelled at your feet, an adorable pout on his face as he begged.  It was slightly enjoyable watching him hug your leg like a toddler. "Please make me a potion!"

"There hasn't even been a potion made for this type of thing, let alone altering a potion for phantom hybrid consumption. That stuff is dangerous since you're like half air." You pointed out, patting him on the head as you slowly trudged across the Pub(e). "I love ya, Wil, but you can deal with this on your own. Don't die though."

Wilbur sniffed dramatically, still holding your leg hostage. "I will die out of spite now." Then he gave a pitiful whine, "Please, darling!"

"Let go of me." You tried to get away, but sadly your sugar was clinging like a leech. "I'm not doing it so-! EW LET GO! WIL, STOP-!"

You spent the better half of three hours being pestered by your boyfriend before you gave in.

{《☆》}

Creating potions from scratch took hours. Long and boring hours of watching water boil and turning blaze rods into a thin powder in your mortar and pestle. Getting Redstone in your hair and losing yourself to the process. It was addicting when you got into it. The constant movement and the power that hummed under the dirt when you brewed. Like the world was waiting for a rampage or a disaster.

It was a paranoid process to many witches, as many told you when you still lived in a coven. Knowing that the earth was watching like it knew something they didn't. But you had never felt it the same way. Because the earth moulded under your fingertips willingly so why fear it.

And when someone interrupted your process, it was much more than mildly irritating.

"What?" You grumbled, wiping Redstone dust off. "I was busy."

"That's the problem," Wilbur whined, looking like a kicked puppy as he stood on your doorstep. "I haven't seen you in days! I miss you."

"You asked me to make this potion, Wil." You pointed out, still softening at his words. "I'll still need another day or two before I have it perfect though. We can hang out after."

Wilbur pouted, sulking in his phantom form as the sun started setting. When you did finish the potion, he wouldn't need to be see-through. You were doing this for him. "Take a break! Hang out with me. Please?"

Grimacing, you realized that he knew exactly what he was doing. Wilbur's eyes shone with a plead, wide and begging. Damn him for knowing your weakness to his puppy eyes. "Fine. But it has to be under an hour or else I'll have to reset the entire potion."

Wilbur grinned, nodding rapidly. Stepping in, you took off your apron. Setting it down next to the cauldron, you met a solid Wilbur on the steps. He took your hand in his, racing off in an untouched direction and pulling you along with him.

Laying under the stars, bodies pressed close as a chill wind blew past, you wondered what your coven would've thought about Wilbur.

{《☆》}

With multiple bottles of your new phantom-proof potions,  you handed one off to Wilbur nervously. Stepping back, you held a water bucket tightly. This could go horribly wrong and kill Wilbur or you could have successfully made a new brand of potion. Only one way to find out.

"This will really suck if I die." Wilbur joked before he took a deep breath, his eyes fluttering shut before he took a large swig and opened them hesitantly. He wasn't blue or some other abhorrent, unnatural shade. No polka dots or stripes, he looked perfectly normal. Or, mostly.

His eyes glowed with a shimmering golden rim, like a fire in his eyes or like sun glinting down on them. You grinned widely,  this was good so far.

"Alright, now go. Step out." You encouraged, still holding one hand around the bucket's handle. "I'm right here for you, sugar."

Wilbur nodded, a weight unfurling in his chest. A single foot forward, and the sun bounced off of Wilbur's face, lighting it up and showing off the unnatural paleness that usually came with phantom's and their allergies to the sun. But now he could feel its warmth settling against his skin and it didn't burn.

"You're amazing," he breathed out, turning towards you. A joy that you've never seen before, childish and adoring and absolutely in love. Wilbur stepped forward, taking your hands in his and kissing the knuckles. "So amazing, darling."

You giggled, turning your head as he started pressing kisses to your entire face. Tilting his head slightly, Wilbur smiled fondly. "I love you."

"I love you too," you said, standing there with Wilbur.  Simply basking in the sun. Like you could do now.

{《☆》}

[F r o g]

[L0v3, k1ng]

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