#idk bout alex he’s kinda between the too

[morally-conflicted]

How Charles manages to look short compared to people he’s taller than/same height as will forever continue to amaze me

[teddy06writes]

A Night In Las Vegas

requested by this anon: “I had the BEST idea: CC!Quackity came up with the idea of his Las Nevadas character arc after going to Las Vegas and meeting Reader there. Maybe one night the reader decides to go and twitch and finds quackity doing a lore stream and the reader is like: no way, it’s the guy I met in Vegas.”

{I love this concept, sorry it took so long for me to get out}

Quackity x reader

trigger warnings: some swears

premise: after getting ditched by your friends on the last night of your long weekend in vegas you run into a very interesting guy who doesn’t hesitate to befriend you. But what happens months later when he still seems to be running circles in your mind?

{covid don’t exist here, no sir}

{for the sake of the story, readers favorite color is blue, if its not, either pretend it is, or get over it}

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10:34pm

“You can’t just- you can’t kick me out!” You yelled. 

Your bestfriend laughed, “Just find somewhere to go for a few hours! Me and Hunter want alone time!” 

“A few fucking hours!?! Seriously?!” But your duffle bag had already been thrown at your feet, and the hotel door room was swinging closed, muffled giggles coming from inside.

Groaning, you picked up your bag, where were you supposed to go now? 

“Not that I was like- listening in or anything- but damn that sucks.” 

You jumped turning to see a man with black hair sticking out of his beanie standing in front of the door diagonal from yours. 

“Uh- yeah. Last night in Vegas and I get ditched for a random hook up,” You scoffed, “I should��ve known it would happen.” 

“That’s not cool, uh- I’m Alex.” He stepped forward, offering his hand. 

Somewhat reluctantly, you shook his hand, “(y/n).” 

He nodded, “I was going to head out for a late night wander, find something to do-, preferably away from all the hookups that seem to be happing around us right now. If you want to come.” 

You glanced around, “Seriously?” 

“Oh- god that did sound kinda creepy didn’t it,” Alex scrubbed a hand over his face, “Sorry- I- you can just forget about this then-” 

“No! I mean- You don’t seem like a rapist or anything. I’ll come with.” 

He grinned, “Poggers, you can, leave that, in my room, if you want. Just seems like a pain to lug around everywhere.” 

You bit your lip, “Leaving my belongings in a strangers room while I go with said stranger to find something interesting to do, sure- why not?”

~~

10:57pm

Somehow, you found yourself wandering out of the hotel lobby, and onto the crowded streets along side Alex. 

“So.... whats your favorite color?” He asked as you walked.

You laughed, “What?” 

“We’re like, total strangers- it was a question, to get to know you.” He tucked his hands into his pockets. 

“Oh, well-” before you could finish your sentence, there was a large amount of gasps and yells from the crowd in front of you.

“What’s going on?” Alex asked quietly. 

You craned your neck to look over the crowd, gasping, “The water show! With the fountains outside of Caesar’s Palace!” You grabbed his hand, tugging him with you to push through the crowd, “This was the whole reason I agreed to this trip- but we never got to it!” 

You shoved your way through the crowd until you got to the front, pressing against the barrier to watch the fountain display. 

“Holy shit.” You heard him mutter from beside you. 

You grinned, “It’s impressive right?” 

“Imagine the coding it would take to get those things to stay on time.” 

~~

11:27pm 

After the show had ended, you had kept wandering for a while, up the strip, asking various questions back and forth. 

You had found out that he was a Minecraft youtuber and a law student, though you’d had to admit, you weren’t too knowledgeable on either that subject. 

Now you were both staring up at the Dave and Busters sign, “This is a good idea right?” 

He nodded, “Definitely. Come on, I’d bet I could beat you at skee ball!” 

Laughing, you followed him into the building, and up the stairs toward the arcade entrance, “Your on!” 

After buying the credit cards for access to the games, you grabbed his hand, dragging him over to the skee ball lanes. 

“Lets go!” He shouted, a few minutes later, upon realizing your score was a total of 10 points behind his, “I’m popping off!”

You laughed, “Okay, what game’s next?” 

Nearly an hour later, you had both run out of credits, and laughing, made you way up to the prize area. 

“Do you think its possible to compile our tickets?” He asked. 

“Why?” 

You followed his pointing finger to the large stuffed dragons sitting on one shelf. 

“We need him.” You said immediately.

After picking out a bright red dragon, you began to argue over the name as you made your way to the counter. 

“What about Carl?” You suggested. 

He shook his head, “I have a friend named Karl.” 

“How ‘bout........ Phil?” 

“I also know a Phil.” 

“Hmmmm, what about Sebastian?” 

“He doesn’t look like a Sebastian!” 

You frowned, “Well do you have any ideas then?” 

Alex thought for a moment, “Albert.” 

You looked down at the dragon, “Albert it is.” 

At the counter Alex convinced the reluctant worker to allow you to use both the cards credit totals, and then you went happily on your way out of the building, stopping to take a picture of Albert in front of the sign, which Alex posted to twitter with the comment of, “Look at our son!” 

You’d staid mostly out of frame, but he managed to get about half of your side, since you were the one holding Albert. 

“Do you think any pf the buffets are still open?” Alex asked. 

“I hope so, I’m starving.” You giggled. 

~~ 12:06am

The buffet was somewhat deserted, and you and Alex had grabbed seats in one of the corners after getting plates full of food.

Albert sat on the table between you as you talked. 

“So it’s roleplay- but in Minecraft?” You asked, barley holding back a laugh.

He nodded, chuckling, “It sounds stupid, I know, but it’s like- huge. Especially since technically I’m getting back into the main lore now, with the whole project: vegas thing.” 

“Project Vegas?” You asked. 

He nodded again, “My character, he’s been through almost everything that's happened, and everything always ends to blow up in his face, literally sometimes. He’s built contries from the ground up- as stupid as that sounds- but they always fail, but this one won’t fail.

“I’m partnering with another guy on the server to set up a whole economy, he’s making a bank, and I’m making- well I’m making my own Vegas.” 

You took a sip of your drink, “What’s it going to be called?” 

“I haven’t figured it out yet,” He admitted, “I wanted to just call it Las Vegas but the names already taken.”

With a chuckle you shifted in your seat, “What about....- what about Las Nevada's?” 

He laughed, “I like that.” 

“Tell me more about this server then, I still don’t understand the story.” 

With another chuckle he launched into the story, “Well, it all started when this guy called Wilbur Soot decided he wanted to start a nation....”

~~ 3:18am

“Blue.” 

You were back at the hotel now, still with Quackity, sitting out on the balcony of his room. Some how, you had ended up having some slightly deep talk about life and death and a million other things before lapsing into silence, simply watching the blinking lights of the city. 

“What?” He asked softly. 

“You asked me my favorite color, ten minutes after we met. It’s blue- that's my favorite color.” You shivered against a cold breeze. 

Alex shifted minutely closer, “Why?” 

You shrugged, “It can be so many things. Deep and dark and mysterious but also light like the summer sky and filled with hope. There’s a million shades from happiness to anger, and to everyone it could mean something else.” 

“I like that.” He said quietly. 

~~

7:04am

You yawned, rubbing sleep out of your eyes as the car drew closer to the airport.

Alex tapped on the steering wheel in time with the music, quietly humming along. 

“Oh, I see my friend, they actually waited for me.” You said as the car pulled up to the curb. 

“How considerate.” He chuckled, climbing out of the car. 

You followed suit, retrieving your duffle bag from the back seat. 

“Well, it was cool knowing you Alex.” You said. 

“Likewise.” 

Before you started to walk away you remembered, and quickly turned back to where he was standing, pulling Albert out of your bag, “Here, he’s yours. You spent more tickets on him than I did.” 

He shook his head, “Keep him. I give you full custody of our son.” 

“Oh- okay... bye then.” 

You barley made it a few steps before he was quickly catching up to you, grabbing your arm and spinning you to press his lips on yours. 

“Good luck with your shitty friends.” He breathed, before hurrying back to his car, leaving you flustered and running to catch up to your friend. 

~~

One and A Half Months later

It had been over a month since the Vegas trip, but you still hadn’t gotten Alex out of your head. 

You had clicked, on some level, and the late night conversation you had shared seemed to keep you thinking about him.

Now, you scrolled aimlessly through twitter, checking the trending tags until you came across one called “LAS NEVADAS” 

Now that piqued your interest, and clicking on it, you found posts of people live tweeting an event- no a live stream. And not just any live stream- a Minecraft stream.

Quickly you opened a new tab, pulling up twitch as fast as you could. 

What was the name of his channel? Oh god why did you forget?

Returning to twitter you searched until you found a link, following it to a new twitch tab. 

And there he was. 

The boy who had been doing laps around your mind was actually there, talking to another character. 

“Look Sam, you and me, we could control everything. I need the bank to help fund Las Nevada’s, we can be partners.” 

You sat, watching the stream, enthralled. 

Once it had ended, you still could hardly believe you found him, quickly following another link back to his twitter and opening a direct message. 

Y/n: Um, this is awkward, idk if you remeber this, but we met in vegas, about a month ago, and I had no idea how to find you until the stream today

quackityHQ: uh, hi? 

qusckityHQ: proof?

Quickly you sent him the picture you had taken of him with Albert, 

y/n: uhhh, bam, proof? 

y/n: our son is sitting on my head board right now

quackityHQ: holy shit

[silentsockfeet]

I was tagged by @everestv thank you!!

rules: pick 5 shows, then answer the following questions, don’t cheat. tag 10 (or however many) people.

the good place

supergirl

sense8

one day at a time

sex ed

who is your favorite character in 2?

(supergirl) kara easy. used to really love alex but to me they kinda ruined her character smh

who is your least favorite character in 1?

(tgp) was not a fan of vicky tbh. she annoyed me

what is your favorite episode of 4?

(odaat) i really really loved ‘hello, penelope’, season 2 ep. 9. it made me cry so hard but i’ve never seen any tv show deal with depression in such an authentic way, especially in a way that just really connected with me

what is your favorite season of 5?

(sex ed) tbh both were really good but i think season 2 was just slightly better

who is your favorite couple in 3?

(sense8) nomi and amanita of course but i actually was a huge fan of wolfgang and kala as well lmao

who is your favorite couple in 2?

(supergirl) sanvers sorry bout it. was a huge fan of kara and james and then. well. that didn’t work out

what is your favorite episode of 1?

(tgp) oof. i don’t know. the series finale was really beautiful but i think the one i always think of the most is the season 3 finale

what is your favorite episode of 5?

(sex ed) i really liked season 2 ep 7, when all the girls bonded with amy in detention. i feel like that storyline was really well handled, and it was really beautiful to watch

what is your favorite season of 2?

(supergirl) season 1 season 1 season 1. it was all downhill from there

how long have you watched 1?

(tgp) since it first started airing i guess

how did you become interested in 3?

(sense8) i kept hearing about it on here so then i started watching it and i loved it

who is your favorite actor in 4?

(odaat) i’d say it’s a tie between isabella gomez and justina machado. and rita moreno too tbh you can never go wrong with rita

which do you prefer, 1, 2, or 5?

(tgp vs. supergirl vs. sex ed) the good place hands down, but i suppose season 1 of supergirl would put up a good fight

which show have you seen more episodes of, 1 or 3?

(tgp vs. sense8) i think the good place had more episodes. i’m too lazy to look it up and confirm tho

if you could be anyone from 4, who would you be?

(odaat) lmaooo oh man. honestly probably alex. he’s got the cool hair and athletic abilities lol

would a crossover between 3 and 4 work?

(sense8 vs. odaat) lmao for sure. i could totally see the odaat writers making a reference to sense8, but i also think it would be really interesting if maybe an alvarez became a sensate? and then they got to meet other sensates? idk i think it’d be super cool. and i bet elena would hardcore fangirl over nomi and amanita

pair two characters in 1 who would make an unlikely but strangely okay couple?

(tgp) oh man. i have no idea. maybe eleanor and jason since they already have the brotp going on? or idk. vicky and tahani maybe?

overall, which show has the better storyline, 3 or 5?

(sense8 vs. sex ed) sense8′s was definitely a lot more interesting in terms of plot, although i really enjoyed the whole sex clinic thing with otis and maeve

which has the better theme music, 2 or 4?

(supergirl vs. odaat) oh fuck. on the one hand odaat’s theme song is fuckin boppin but i genuinely love supergirl’s score. i’m gonna cop out and say you can’t compare the two so that i don’t have to officially answer

Tagging: @meowingatthesea, @barry-allen-deficit-disorder, @finniethekid, @smolbroodygay, @sourbutchkid no pressure if y’all don’t want to!

[dvddggs]

To the Four of Us (Part Twenty Two)

premise: modern AU chronicling the squad as they make their way through college and deal with general life things. soundtrack song: Impossible Year - Panic! At The Disco full soundtrack: x (request songs and if I use it i’ll dedicate the chapter to you!) words: 2,155 (this was actually v emotionally draining to write so its a bit shorter oops) warnings: kinda strong warning for this one!! ptsd, anxiety, alcoholism, death mention (if i missed anything please let me know!!) a/n: scream at me. all chapters: x tags: @heythereitsloey @anitheunicorn @newyorkyoucanbeanew @lafbagxette @justafangirlwithanavy @iamgrayfox @ordinaryornate @schuylerjoon @angelica-peggy-eliza @trashyperson101 @crazydragon15 @but-if-you-had-to-choose @geespilots @marvelous-hamilfan @5p00kygh05t @panda-powers @and-maria @lafeyettegunsandships @schokoobananaa @allthegoodurlshavebeentaken @aphboi @hell-yes-puns-and-ships @aham-threw-his-shot-away @hesitantcat @nonstopspook @hamrevolution @writethewayout @alexander-did-you-know @allthegoodurlshavebeentaken @sun-tree @angelizaandpeggy @isis278 @idk-destiel @engulfedinstars @hamiltrashuniverse @ahrupe @just-me-an-asshole dedication: this isn’t specific but i hit 1.5k tonight so this is dedicated to all 1.5k of u that’s so amazing thank u so much 

It is dark. I am…alone? No. Not alone. Someone is with me. Someone is driving the car. I am in the backseat. Why? The streetlights illuminate the road ahead of us. Where are we going? Who is driving? Who is with me? I crane my neck, trying to see. Trying. His face hides. His? Hers? The dark face. There are no details. It is just a stretch of blackness, of emptiness. No eyes. No mouth. Something is wrong. The mouthless face turns to speak.

“John.”

One word. My name. Something is very wrong.

We are still driving. But something has changed. The faceless person is not watching the road. The hands are not on the steering wheel. We are swerving. Swerving. Speeding up.

We do not stop. We cannot stop. We are not going to stop.

I cry out. I am scared. I do not know what is happening. What is happening? Why is this happening? Why won’t it stop?

We are hurtling down the road. There is nothing to control the car. Why won’t it stop? Why won’t we stop?

I am frantic now. I try to push the faceless person. Turn around, turn around. Watch the road. Steer the car. BRAKE.

Please, for the love of god, brake.

Please. Please. Stop the car.

Am I saying this aloud? I cannot hear myself. The radio. The music is blasting. Too loud. I cannot hear.

“Turn it down,” I scream. Or maybe I whisper it. I cannot tell. I do not know.

The faceless person continues to watch me. Its head tilts side to side, studying me. Its nonexistent eyes bore into my frantic, wide ones. I am panicking. My heart is pounding.

Headlights.

There is a car coming.

I must be screaming at this point. I must be. I can feel my throat going raw. It hurts. My seatbelt is locked. We are going too fast. The tough fabric cuts into my chest. I am stuck. Trapped. Pinned to the seat.

I begin to cry. I am pleading. I am begging.

Watch the road. Steer the car. Brake. Save us.

“Put down the drink,” I hear myself say.

A violent flash of light. A horrific sound. A deafening crunch. A shattering of glass. A mess.

It is too late.

Too late.

My eyes ache. I am bathed in lights. Flashing.

Red. Blue. White. More red.

Loud squeals. Sirens.

I am laying on something hard. Cold. Wet. The road?

How did I get here?

I turn my head to the right. Beside me, the faceless person. Unmoving. Hurt.

I turn my head to the left. There, a young girl. Her eyes are closed.

People surround her. They move quickly. Scissors. Stethoscope. A look at each other. Palms on her chest. Pumping. Down, up. Down, up. Rhythm.

I breathe in. I feel fine. Why do I feel fine?  

I am standing up. No one notices me. No one acknowledges me.

No one sees me.

I am not here.

I am watching. Watching a horror movie. But it is right there. Right here. It is real. Is it real? How can it be?

“John.”

The voice again. I turn my body. The faceless person is, somehow, staring at me. Calling out to me.

Slowly I approach. I am afraid. I am shaking. I do not know what to think.

Who is this? What is this? Why am I here? Why won’t this stop?

“John.”

I try to respond. I try to yell. Who are you? Why is this happening?

“John.”

I feel myself start to cry. I fall to my knees. I do not feel anything. I am so, so scared.

“JOHN.”

Alexander shook John violently until his eyes flew open and he jumped up, wide awake. He was shaking, sweating, cold, crying. John looked around the room, dazed, while he caught his bearings. His chest rose and fell rapidly as Alexander rubbed his back.

“Holy shit,” Alexander whispered through the darkness. “Are you okay?”

John pressed his lips together and inhaled shakily. Before he could stop himself, he began to cry. The sobbing was almost hysterical.

“Shh…it’s alright. It was only a dream, baby. Only a dream…”

Alexander stroked John’s hair and whispered empty reassurances in his ear until his breathing slowed to normal and the shaking began to subside.

“What was it about?” Alexander asked after awhile.

“My—dad,” John managed to choke out. “Car crash.”

“It was just a dream,” Alexander repeated softly.

But it wasn’t. He didn’t understand. John couldn’t really blame him either—he would never expect him to understand, but still. He took another deep breath to steady his voice.

“What time is it?”

He prayed that it was late enough to justify getting up.

“It’s around three,” Alex replied gently.

Fuck.

“I don’t want to go back to sleep,” John whispered, voice wavering.

Alexander nodded and pushed the sheets back so he could sit up beside John. He pulled him into a tight hug and pressed a kiss to his forehead.

“Then we’ll stay up,” Alexander declared. “Do you want to tell me what happened?”

Slowly, John choked out what happened in his dream between the faceless man he now realized was his father, the car crash, the girl…

By the end, Alexander looked horrified.

“I’m so sorry, John,” he said. It was barely a whisper.

Alexander had no idea what to say—he had never been good with dealing with his problems and usually favoured shoving them to the side and forget about them. This, however, transcended the classification of “a problem” and jumped right into the category of “suffering to which words cannot do justice.”

He had no idea what to say. Alexander, the man of hundreds of thousands of words, had been rendered speechless by the tear-streaked, wide-eyed puppy boy who sat beside him in his bed. He was at a loss for words. John had been through so much during his life. So much suffering, so much hardship, and the car crash with his father had brought it all to a head. This was John’s breaking point. This was it.

“Can I tell you something?”

John nodded, wiping a tear off his cheek.

“When I first came here—when my dad first got me—I was a fucking mess. My mom had just died, I was sick…the doctors thought I was going to die too. And you know what? I pretended that I was fine. Every single fucking day I pretended that I was fine. John, it was exhausting. I was not fine. I was a wreck. One day, my dad came into my room—right here—and sat down on my bed and found me crying. He hugged me and you know what he told me? He told me that it’s okay to not be fine. I’ve never, ever forgotten that. You’re allowed to be a fucking mess right now, John. You have every right. This isn’t going to be easy, and there’s a lot of stuff that’s about to come your way, and everything is going to be really shitty, and it might stay that way for a long time. And you know what? I’m going to stay here by your side—I’m not going anywhere—and we’re going to keep on going until everything gets alright again, okay?”

John studied Alexander’s wide eyes. There was something new in them; he looked almost haunted. Alexander didn’t open up about his past very often—the speech shocked John into silence.

Finally, he spoke the only words he could think of.

“I’m just…so tired, Lex.”

And that was it.

John broke down in tears. They were not pretty tears—they were ugly, heavy, thick tears that splashed down his cheeks and soaked his shirt. There was nothing romantic about this kind of agonizing grief; it was suffocating. It was excruciating. John clung to Alexander while his nose ran like a tap. His entire body shook and his head pounded, entirely overcome with uncontrollable sobbing. Though it was three o’clock in the morning, he was not quiet. The crying continually omitted gut-wrenching gasps and pained groans. Once in awhile Alexander would swipe away one of John’s tears with his thumb, but each one was replaced by countless others.

They stayed like that for god-knows-how-long. Alexander holding John. John forcing his eyes to stay open so he could never again see the dream that had branded itself onto the insides of his eyelids.

“Everything hurts,” John whimpered after a short bout of silence. He had cried himself dry. There was nothing left in him—nothing.

“I know,” Alexander whispered, pushing his head softly into John’s neck.

He hated watching John in pain. He hated not being able to sugarcoat the situation. He hated holding him while he cried. He wanted it to stop.

If his life had taught him anything, though, it was that healing took time. Lots and lots of it. Even now, once in awhile Alexander found himself missing his mother, longing for her, remembering her hugs, wondering what his life could have been…

But over time, the pain had eased. The thought of his mother used to cripple Alexander into anxiety attacks, long and seemingly endless bouts of depression, and a fear of letting others love him. He was afraid of loving—afraid that anyone he loved would leave him. But now he had his John. He had his friends, and he had his father. He had found a way to live through it, to live until the next day…the next month…the next year…

And now it was John’s turn to heal. Alexander had vowed to be there for as long as it took, for as hard as it would be, through anything and everything.

“It’s going to hurt for a long time,” Alexander said softly, brushing John’s long hair to the side. “But I am promising you right now that it is going to get easier. Slowly, everything is going to get easier. You’ll see. But for now we don’t need to worry about that. For now, you need to cry.”

The sky began to lighten as a hint of the sun peeked in through Alexander’s curtains. “Do you wanna try and get back to sleep?”

John thought about it, then nodded slowly. He let Alexander lead him downward until his head hit the fluffy pillow with a soft thud. Through the darkness, he watched Alexander smile sympathetically. It was not the pity that John had so often feared he would receive regarding his father—it was loving sympathy, complete with a warm body wrapped around him, a squeeze of the hand, and a soft kiss on the cheek, which forced the last few of John’s tears out of his body.

With a deep breath, he closed his eyes. He was asleep before he could count to ten.

Alexander lay in the darkness, mind spinning. He thought about his mother, about his father, about John’s father. About the girl in the car crash…

He was wide awake.

He picked up a phone to check the time. 5:12 AM.

Alexander sighed and sat up slowly, so as not to wake John. He looked so beautiful in his sleep, so peaceful. His hair feathered around his head in a sort of curly halo, and his long, dark eyelashes fluttered as he drifted through states of consciousness. His eyes were swollen and his cheeks were still red, but at least for now he could take a break from his busy mind.

Carefully, Alexander pulled the sheets back and headed downstairs to grab a glass of water from the sink. He heard the floorboards creak a bit, but it was nothing out of the ordinary in the old house.

The air itself seemed still and slow. The world was asleep. People were out of harm’s way…until they woke up and began their days and had to face whatever horrors would be awaiting them. But, for now at least, they were safe.

He tip-toed his way back upstairs, avoiding the steps he knew would creak more than others, and climbed back into bed. Right before he closed his eyes, however, a flash of light caught his attention.

John’s phone. A picture of the two of them. His lock screen. A message.

Alexander picked it up, curious as to who would need to get in touch with him at this time. Lafayette, maybe? He was six hours ahead, after all.

A missed call. A voicemail. A text.

After thumbing in the passcode he’d easily memorized (2-5-3-9, or ALEX), he opened the messaging app.

It was John’s brother, James.

Something was making Alexander uneasy. He hesitantly tapped on the name, causing the message thread to blossom open.

When he read the missed message, his breathing hitched in his throat.

James: Dad is dead.