Work Text:
TRANSCRIBED DIRECTLY FROM REAL EVENTS.
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A crowd began to swell around The Spire of All Knowledge.
Despite their feeble attempts, well-paid minions Candy Apple and Black Sapphire were unable to sway the masses! As if two doughbrains could change the singular mind of a crowd nearly spanning across Beast-Yeast.
Small businesses would flourish from the tourism! Oh JOY!!
Where was I? OH YES! The crowd BATTERED at the door.
"SHADOW MILK COOKIE!" "WE KNOW YOU'RE IN THERE!" "MARRY ME!" Blah blah blah.
He watched from the balcony. Their attention was glorious, Shadow Milk had to admit, but they were interrupting his writing! How could he write generational masterpieces with such FOLLY going on out there?!
Though, Shadow Milk sympathized with the poor commonfolk. Why, if he knew such a handsome, intelligent, charming, witty, thoughtful, brilliant, genuine, resourceful, radiant, insightful, reliable, authentic, and most importantly BLUE cookie, was but a continent away?
He too would have gone to ask for their hand in marriage!
However, the spectacle had to end so that Shadow Milk could write his next AO3 fic (this one).
With a determined and devilishly handsome look on his devilishly handsome face, he stood. The crowd went dead quiet.
"MARRY ME!!!!" that one dumbass shouted AGAIN. Shadow Milk was over it by now, and one glaring glare shut the motherfucker up.
"Fellow cookies... I have a terrible confession to make...," he whispered, tears fluttering on his long, masculine eyelashes. The crowd stared up at him in shock.
"I.........
Am married."
As expected, chaos and screaming broke out. "NOOO!!" "B-B-B-B-BUT SHADOWVANILLA! WAHHHH!!!!" "YEAH, TO ME!"
WITCHES HELP ME.
"Here's my wife," the most handsome cookie on Earthbread announced while he grinned mischievously, holding up his sleeping wife with his left pinky finger while spinning her around like a basketball.
"BUT SHE'S NOT AS BEAUTIFUL AS YOU!!! YOU DESERVE BETTER..."
"She's closer than any of you to my beauty, and also aren't you the guy who ships me with an ice cream cone? LMAO"
Everyone still loved the genius playwright and actor and jester and clown and harlequin and author, but understood that they could do nothing, and (mostly) left.
Shadow Milk hummed to himself as he placed his wife back down on their bed. And he began to write, the words flowing like the Yogurt River of Rebirth.
-
Hello, dear reader!
Did you, ehe, enjoy the story? Oh I sureee do hope so!
Unless you're Pure Vanilla Cookie.
In which case.
Ahem:
CRUMBLE YOURSELF. ("In Minecraft," or WHATEVER.)
HEHEHE!