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soft-boi-eli · 3 years

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Mcyts helping a trans masc after top surgry (part 2)

Tw:swearing, mentions of surgry, softness.

Karl

This sweet ass man.

You are just laying on your bed, well sitting really, when he came in.

He had a fuck ton of balloons. And a large box.

Karl seemed like a child on christmas.

Placing the balloons down he handed you the surprisingly light box.

He was gently bouncing as he waited for you to open it.

It shocked you how it even fit in the box.

It was a huge frog bed.

You realized with a pillow you would be able to sleep in it perfectly.

"I knew it was uncomfortable sleeping like that so I got something that should make it a bit more comfortable."-karl

You loved it.

Sadly you couldnt use it till those drains were out though.

He was right though that was definitely more comfortable then laying on a bed only.

He didnt think it through though. And got sad when he wasn't able to fully cuddle you.

But he found out that he could lay on your lap and legs.

You both enjoyed it.

Also he might be a bit squeamish when it came to your chest drains but he was helpful with them.

He helped you clean them and your wounds, he was very, very gentle.

He didnt want to hurt you.

"You know it's ok to do it a little harder. It wont hurt."-(y/n)

"But I dont want to hurt you. I know this doesn't hurt."-karl.

It was sweet. But got kinda annoying sometimes when he couldnt get something off. But he never got angry or frustrated. Just kept very gentle.

I imagine that when he was cleaning your new scars, Jimmy came to see if you got his balloons and if you doing good.

You two were in the living room bowl of warm soapy water, in a large plastic bowl, and karl gently wiping off all of the crust around the scars.

You fell asleep before karl finished and karl was finishing up when jimmy came in.

"Karl. They're alseep."-jimmy

"Yeah but this needs to be cleaned. It doesn't hurt them."-karl

Jimmy and karl literally just sat there till you woke up.

You thanked jimmy for the balloons and thanked karl for helping you clean those wounds.

Karl didnt mind though. Cause this sweet heart cares for you and just wants you to feel better and feel comfortable.

Quackity

He loves you and all but dont expect him to help with the surgical sight.

He'll do everything for you except clean your wounds and drain those drains.

He loves to hug you and kept you warm.

He would stream but you were always behing the green screen so no one would see you.

"Alex. Can you get me to book I left in the living room. I feel like shit still."-(y/n)

He was very quick to get it. And I mean he bolted out got it and brought it in the span of a minute. He gave you a light kiss on the forehead, and whispered.

"Anything for you mi amoir."-quackity.

You gave him a smile.

"Simp."-(y/n)

He gasped offended and looked at you.

"Well only for you though."-quackity.

I imagine as a get well gift quackity would get you something to remind you of him when he streams.

Large duck push.

He knew that his streams could last a long time so he decided it was best if you had a snuggle buddy to help you stay in position.

If the duck got dirty he was cleaned nearly immediately by quackity.

If the duck falls off the bed quackity gently yeets it onto the bed where you can reach.

He might of gotten jealous of the duck a few times. But he seemed to get over it when you went to hugging him instead. Sadly it wasnt that easy to but still none the less you gave him hugs too.

Dont neglect you quack boi.

He needs hugs like you do.

Give them to him. These are the only times you get cuddles. Other then that he is making food, getting you comfy, and fixing your pillows and shit like that.

He is now a maid.

Not sexually though. He just cleans the house, get you things you need, and makes food.

He is helpful.

Just not with the cleaning process of your wounds. And that's fine. He keeps you comfy and that's all that matters.

Also if your cold in the middle of hot ass summer and asking for more blankets he would look at you crazy. Like what the fuck?

But you have them lightly fluttered over you.

He wants you comfy. Even if that means you looking like your boiling alive in the middle of july.

If your happy he's happy. That's how it goes

Badboyhalo

Badboyhalo?

More like dadboyhalo.

He is not going to let you do anything.

Your surgical incisions? He's cleaning them.

Your drains? He's got you.

Your getting alot of soup and smoothies. He even joins in on your so called diet so you wont get jealous about what he has.

Rat is all over you. Sensing the pain you were having and cuddling you completely. Your laps is almost always taken by rat.

Badboyhalo doesn't really care if rat gets alot of attention by you. He just wants you to be comfortable.

But sometimes he gets sad that he cant fully lay with you.

But he enjoys just sitting with you and talking through the nights you cant really sleep.

He gets you a stuffed cat, you use it mainly as a pillow and sometimes hug it when bad is streaming.

"It reminded me of you when I saw it."-bad

Your heart melted.

He loved your reactions to the little sweet gesters he did. It brought him joy to know you were able to relax and trust him at this moment and time.

You get a free swearing pass. He knows you hurt really bad at times but he lightly says language when on stream.

You understood though. He had kids watching too.

You were grumpy one day, bad took rat because of a rat cam stream. And all you wanted was to be warmed up by something else then a blanket.

You were sittinging there looking at bad as he streamed.

You could technically get up and grab rat but he my tell you not to.

So you quietly patted your lap.

Rat immediately seemed to notice and run over to you, jumping onto the bed and laying in your lap.

You felt accomplished and tired so you fell asleep.

Rat leaving made the chat confused but bad explained that you were healing from a surgery.

Chat wished you a good recovery and told bad to go and comfort you. Even though you were asleep.

He tried to explain it but the donations kept yelling at him.

So he ended stream and laid next to you and rat.

This was comfortable.

Eret

Eret, they were a whole 'nother story.

This fabulous being is like a maid service in one.

They have two outfits they wore when you were upset.

A maid outfit and a butler outfit.

You just got home, you were in pain, sitting up and swaddled in blankets and Goose was trying to smother you at this point.

Eret was streaming and you were sitting there in the background, blankets, pain, and goose exsiting.

You didnt know eret was talking about you because you were falling asleep. Eret nor you expected what their followers did.

Her door was bombarded with packages addressed to you. Decorated with words about getting well soon, that they were proud of you, even some saying you were their rolemodle.

Eret decided to have a stream of you opening them.

Let's just say alot of them were food, candies, even foreign food and drinks. Someone made you a homemade blanket in the trans colors.

Best part about that blanket, it was heated.

You were using it immediately as you were freezing.

Eret just chuckled and rubbed your shoulder as you opened them.

Needless to say they are proud of you, happy that you were one huge step closer to who you were.

All they wanted was your happiness.

Niki

She's a sweetheart.

Need I say more?

Well I will because fuck you I can.

Constant cuddles, be it only her head in your lap, it is almost always happening.

When you have to take your pain meds she is instantly on it, do you want soup or a smoothie? You cant decide? She'll make it a surprise.

If you dont live with her then you're staying with her while you are recovering. She doesn't want you alone when you are in pain.

You'll be bedridden until she thinks you're okay.

If she deems you as not fit for doing something she's on it. Drop you glasses for reading/drawing/writing/typing. You bet your ass as soon as she heard that clack and you groan she's picked it up and it's on your lap.

Also makes sure you're good with streaming.

If you say your good with it that day it's a calm stream. There is no lore happening when you're healing everyone was fine with that due to the fact that niki would have to sit out and the lore was with her as well so that couldn't happen.

Will came to visit...

Saw you, took pity, and now you're stuck with two people showering you in affection and comfort.

You saw Wilbur as a brother. And wilbur saw you as his younger brother. So he literally felt the pain when he saw you wince.

Niki thought it was cute and comforted both of you.

Anyways she saw something before your surgery and decided that you needed it.

It would make you feel better.

It made you laugh.

You regretted laughing but loved the hoodie.

It fit so well and it was beautiful, you also were thinking about buying it one day because you could.

But niki beat you to it.

Wilbur didnt stop laughing.

I mean who blames him.

You literally just Yeeted your tits. And niki got you something that said yeet right on top of it.

It worked perfectly.

Also when niki's not cuddling you zuko is.

End of story, you're seriously stuck with cuddles no matter what. Be it from an animal or a human.

Wilbur wont cuddle you more of give you head pats.

Niki normally streamed with you there with her unless lore stream.

So when the second day after your surgery, she had streamed, and you weren't there her chat started asking questions. Wondering if you were good, if something happened.

That's when you raised from your dead sleep, zuko falling off your stomach, shirtless, just to go grab some sock as your toes felt like they would fall off.

Chat seemed relived but started questioning the binder and all that.

Niki explained that you got top surgery and that you were healing still.

"He's looking like he wants to die right now. Are you sure he's fully okay?"-dono

"Yeah I'm good. Just stubbed my toe as well."-you.

Niki was quick to rush over and help you back to the bed.

"Just sit down I'll get you your water hun."-niki

She was quick to fill your bottle up and place it next to you on the table next ot the bed.

She's such a big help not matter what honestly.

She loves you and will do anything for you.

I am sorry this took so long. Just had a very unstable mental state. Also sorry if they seem oc. I'm once more not on a good mental state and have been trying to work on this.

So yeah if I dont post in a bit I'm so sorry just stressing alot. Insomnia is kicking me so hard.

My grandma broke her foot, she's all good though.

And I have taken up most things in my house as I live with both my mother and grandmother still.

But yeah I apologize for the break just gonna try to let myself get better. It might take a bit. It might be quite short I dont know. I just need to get more sleep.

Eli is very tired now. Bye.

#karl x reader #niki x reader #eret x reader #quackity x reader #badboyhalo x reader #mcyt x reader #mcyt fluff

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 3 years

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Fully Completely 3

Warnings: non-consent sex and rape (series), violence, mutual irritation, harassment

This is dark!Loki x reader and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Series Synopsis: There’s a new face in Birch and he’s come to haunt your door.

Sister series to Smalltown Bringdown, When the Weight Comes Down, and Little Bones

Note: On to part three. Sorry for being a human disaster.

Thanks to everyone for their patience and feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

Chapter 3: Or it will move right through me

💀💀💀

Jerome annoyed you as he picked through your tool box and clicked the ratchet noisily. He was excited but impatient and complained that you were taking so long. You told him if he wanted to pay out of pocket for labour, you could finish faster.

You sat by his bike, parts strewn at your feet, and bent your head to look under the tank. You still had a lot to go and hadn’t yet added anymore of the gross chrome to the frame.

“Do you realise how filthy this is gonna get?” you huffed as you sat up and leaned your elbows on your legs, “not to mention how ridiculous it looks.”

“I like it. It’s just my style,” your brother grinned, “I don’t remember you spending this much time on Bucky’s ride and you and him--”

“He had me replace the tailpipe, you want nothing short of a rebuild,” you scoffed, “and you’re not the boss.”

“Don’t remind me,” he rolled his eyes, “guess it could be worse though. It could be Steve.”

“Thank god it’s not,” you chuckled, “I don’t know how many women had to toss beer in his face before he latched onto that mousy one at the bakery.”

“She’s nice,” Jerome shrugged, “far as I know. She doesn’t talk to anyone but Steve.”

“I wonder why,” you tisked, “he has insecurity written across his forehead.”

The tinny bell rang and the door whooshed open as the wind caught it. Jerome glanced over and dropped the ratchet noisily into the drawer of the tool box. You growled in warning as you spent much of your spare cash on those. He apologised quietly as he squared his shoulders at the man who appeared.

“Hey,” Bucky wiped the flakes from his hair and blew out a shiver.

“Bucky,” Jerome said rigidly.

The other man nodded and stepped further inside the garage. He shoved his hands in his pockets and paced aimlessly around the concrete floor. You watched him as you fiddled with the bolt in your hand.

“You wanna head down to the bar?” It wasn’t a question as Bucky came to face you, “I gotta talk to your sister.”

“Sure,” Jerome replied sharply, “you got it, boss.”

Bucky grumbled and waited for him to leave. He sniffed and kicked his toe into the floor.

“So… what’re you doing here? Been a while so must be urgent,” you sat up on the rolling stool and stretched your back.

“The whole town’s talking about it. You fighting him,” his brows drew together, “I told you I’d take care of him.”

“You didn’t,” you said evenly, “so I did.”

“I talked to him--”

“And said what?” you snorted.

“Look, you don’t understand. You said it yourself, you don’t care about my business. You don’t get what’s going on but what I need from him is bigger than your temper.”

“Excuse me? This is my fault? He broke into my shop, he followed me from that diner and he put his hands on me,” you stood and tossed the bolt away, “what do you want me to do, Buck?”

“First, I want you to remind yourself who I am. We’re not fucking anymore so that mouth isn’t as cute,” he warned, “and I want you to play nice.”

“All you have to do is keep him away from me. How hard is that for a man like you, huh? You’re the big dog.”

“Watch it,” he pointed at you, “I won’t tell you again.”

“He’s here to deal with you, not me,” you insisted, “he grabbed me, I defended myself, and I’ll do it again.”

“This isn’t grade school anymore, you can’t fight the boys,” he sighed.

“What are you saying?”

He was silent as his jaw ticked and his blue eyes strayed to the ceiling. You stepped closer and gripped your hips as you stared him down.

“There’s nothing else I can do for you. Nothing else I will do. He’s your problem.”

He met your glare and you scoffed in disgust, “you’re fucking serious? What do these idiots have on you?”

“It’s not what they have on me, it’s what I want from them. I’m planning for something bigger than Birch, that means there’s gonna be some sacrifices,” he shrugged.

“Sacrifices? Is that what you call it? Well, here’s one for you, the next time you get a little scuff on your tank or your headlight starts to flicker, you can head down to Carl’s,” you scowled.

“Don’t do this,” he gritted through his teeth.

“I can get business without you. I do better work than Carl, you know that. So go, I’ll deal with that asshole on my own, how I see fit.”

He inhaled and lifted his chin. He closed his eyes and thought.

“Damn it,” he swore, “you can’t make anything fucking easy. What is it with you women and your god damn--” he lifted his hand and stopped himself, “you get in the way of my business, and you won’t be so worried about Loki.”

“Oh yeah? That’s what he said about you,” you mocked, “what’s with you men and your egos?”

His lip curled and he breathed through his teeth. His eyes lit up and he punched his palm as he turned away quickly.

“I hope he has his fun with you. Maybe he can fuck some sense into you,” Bucky growled, “God knows I tried.”

“You weren’t that good,” you snipped.

He kicked the shelf of wipers hung near the front of the shop and grunted. He stormed to the doorway and stopped to look back at you.

“You’ll be wishing it was me…” he hissed.

He waved you off and continued through the front door, slamming it behind him loudly. You stared at the scattered packages of wipers and bit down on your tongue. You wanted to run out and strangle that idiot but you knew how he could be. It was the reason you broke off your little fling; he was too much like you. Hard-headed and volatile.

💀

You weren’t going to change just because the town was overrun by asshole men. You were standing your ground and that meant you were going to finish your club sandwich and enjoy one lunch without interruption.

The café was busier that day as the snowfall dwindled and the streets were mostly cleared as the plows made their regular rounds. You looked through the window as the school kids stopped by the bakery for hot drinks on their lunch and circled the rim of your mug with your fingertip. You sensed it was only the lull before the storm.

Further down you could see the corner of The Asp and heard a rumbling engine. Your shop remained empty except for Jerome’s bike. Since Bucky’s visit, you were too worked up to concentrate anyway. You wanted to take your wrench and knock every man in town in the head with it.

Nora brought your sandwich as Kimmie didn’t work on the weekends and your side of soup. You would eat both and leave satisfied. You wouldn’t let anyone ruin your day off. Well, not that you had very much to do aside from that.

You dipped your crusts in the tomato soup and stared at the seat across from you. Empty. Perfect.

You scooped the last of the bowl into your mouth and wiped your lips with the napkin. You stood and gulped up your coffee. You left money on the table and headed out. A peaceful, solitary lunch all to yourself.

You skipped the shop and continued down the street. You pushed into the hobby shop you rarely ventured into, more a bookshop if you were honest. You greeted the man at the counter with a smile. When you were a girl, you remembered he ordered you a special set of paints as the ones in his store were all dried up. Lu, you recalled his name.

You went to the shelves of models and looked over the new arrivals. You took the Smokey and the Bandit Trans Am off the shelf and smirked. Your father had one just like it when you were a kid. It wasn’t exactly new. You grabbed a bottle of black paint with it, always running low on the stuff, and headed for the counter.

Lu punched the buttons on his till and you heard a creak. Light footsteps emerged from the basement of used books as you opened your wallet.

“I didn’t take you as bookish,” Loki’s voice made you cringe.

You didn’t answer and counted out the bills for your purchase, “actually, you got any glue? I didn’t see any on the shelf.”

“Hmm, oh,” Lu turned and bent to reach into a box, “haven’t stocked up but these came in just before the storm.”

He added the orange and white tube to your bag and you added another bill. He counted out your change and handed it to you.

“Quite interesting what small towns can hide,” Loki didn’t wait to step up to counter and stood close, his sleeve against yours, “An antique edition of Whitman. One of the only Americans I read.”

You looked down at the worn tome, the edges fraying and the letters faded. It was marked up to a couple hundred. You could appreciate a love for reading but you weren’t entirely sure some old paper was worth all that.

“I’ll need the reading material as my visit has been prolonged,” he mused as you grabbed your bag and headed for the door, “my brother is due to return so I will stay in his place… get to know the town of Birch more intimately.”

You hid your disgust at his words and continued out the door. His exaggerated tones stuck in your head as you passed the window and absently swung your bag. You hated him. You really did. You should have bashed him over the head with that dumb book.

You thought of that day in the snow and smiled. You knew that shame lingered in him. You would have no problem repeating that scene.

You came up to your shop and stopped short. The burly redhead who arrived with the pestilent man stood at your door, peering in through the window, angling his head as he tried to see around the blinds. You cleared your throat as you neared.

“Something I can help you with?” you asked dully.

“Oh, ah,” he turned and laughed at himself, “I thought… Loki, I thought he’d be here.”

“No. He wouldn’t be,” you said, “he’s down at the book shop.”

“Thanks. He apologise?” He prodded.

“You seem to know him well. You think he did?” you challenged.

“Ah, nah,” he smiled awkwardly, “s’pose he didn’t.”

“S’pose he didn’t,” you echoed, “it would be smart if you kept him away from here.”

“Yeah, uh, should do,” he sidled past you and you listened to his heavy boots clump along the beaten snow.

You took out your key and unlocked the door. You closed it quickly behind you, that man’s presence set you on edge. He hadn’t shown any of the venom of his associate but he was loyal to him. You double checked the locks on all the doors and made certain all windows were closed.

You went up stairs into your apartment and stripped off your coat and boots. You sat at the small table where you ate those dinners you didn’t forget and unpacked your new model. You sorted the pieces and spread out the instructions. The image of the car on the box brought back nostalgic memories. You wouldn’t know all you did about bikes if it wasn’t for your dad. You missed him every day for the last… too many years.

You lost yourself in the tiny parts. You hunched over the table and carefully dabbed glue onto the plastic. Your eyes began to itch as the windows dimmed and you got up to turn on the lamp. You kept building well after dark and finally left the half-finished car on the table.

You stretched out your limbs as you stripped down to only your loose tee and yawned. You fell into bed and turned on the old tube television. You hit play on the VCR and the loud previews blared from the boxy speakers. You rolled yourself in your comforter and sat through the same movie trailers you’d watched a dozen times.

You were never a romantic but you the movie was another shadow of your childhood. Your grandma used to watch Kathleen Turner whenever you went to her place. She would serve you yogurt and berries and turn on the cheesy action flick and if you slept over, she would put in the sequel right after.

Your rituals kept you sane. You found it was easier to know what to expect and given your temper, it was better not to be surprised. You were always the trouble child and you regretted all those times your dad had to come talk to the principal or walk you home from school. You promised him you would be better.

Still you didn’t regret what you did. He always told you to stand up for yourself. Hell, he taught you how to throw a punch and all your best insults were inherited from him. You smiled as you thought of him and hugged your pillow as the intro played and the credits flicked up one name at a time.

You drifted off in the glow of the television and the sound effects sank into your dreams. You were still in Birch but thick vines had grown around all the buildings and billowing leaves shrouded the skies. The town had turned to jungle and you could hear the growls and grunts of beasts unseen.

You spun as a twig snapped and a snake uncoiled from a branch and fell into the brush at your feet. You stepped back and it slithered towards you. You stumbled and ran away as you could hear its skin smoothly glide through the grass at your feet. You tripped as its long body wrapped around your ankles and you crashed to the ground.

You struggled as the snake constricted your body and wound its neck around to face you. Its green eyes shone as its black scales gleamed. Its tongue flicked against your cheek and you felt its hot breath as it opened its mouth and revealed long, frightening fangs. You screamed as its bite loomed and you woke with a start.

The visions of the wild jungle faded but the heat did not. You blinked as an amber haze took over the room and you fought through your messy blankets and tumbled onto the floor. Your curtains were alight along with much of the wall. You bachelor was blazing with orange flames and you could barely see the door through the smoke.

You coughed and scrambled to your feet. Your eyes streamed and you blindly ran for the door and flew down the stairs. The shop was almost entirely engulfed as you reached the lower landing and you fumbled with the front door as flames licked closer and closer.

You burst out into the frozen night and your feet were numbed by the ice and snow. You retreated from the burning building, your life set aflame, and turned back as you reached the sidewalk. Sirens screamed and made you wince as you crossed your arms and chattered against the cold.

“Pity,” the slither made your skin crawl, “though I suppose it is a blessing you at least saved yourself.”

You glanced at Loki as your vision blurred with the tears of realisation. Everything you had was turning to ash before you. You blinked away the droplet and sneered at him. He smirked and you knew. He smirked and he knew. It wasn’t an accident.

#loki #dark loki #dark!loki #loki x reader #fully completely #series #birch #biker boys of birch #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #mcu #marvel #thor #bucky barnes #avengers #au #biker au #biker!au #sequel

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aquato-family-circus · 2 years

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I have quite a few for Bob and an okay amount for Ford @ the baby HC stuff

Bob:

Is trans. Figured it out pretty early on too.

Used to go fishing with his dad when he was really young! And then his dad died and that stopped.

He'd always go to the farmer's market with Tia

(the other older folks there basically all adopted him because he was one of the very few kids around)

He used to do his guitar recitals there! And then he stopped as he got older because Tia stopped taking him...

He's always been a pretty big loner overall, but he was the type to always get described as an "old soul" and such because. Y'know. He didn't know many kids.

Probably homeschooled? Or at least didn't pay much attention in school because he had other things to work on.

He made so much boxed spaghetti. It is an outrageous about of boxed spaghetti. He'd have to cook for him and his mom and just go back to boxed spaghetti. I don't know why I am just stuck with those words.

He is out as trans to the farmer's market, but not out as gay, to this day.

And for Ford there's not as much, but I definitely feel like he's adopted, lived on a farm, and had a (not-adopted) brother who was basically the straight man to the insanity that Ford always gets up to.

I also think he went to college on a scholarship/by working all through it, and met Otto there... That one's a fanfic in the making.

Oh yeah I've read your fic(s) re: trans Bob headcanon they're good :) Bob def has the big trans energy.

It's neat to imagine what Bob's social circles might've looked like bc the memory vault with Bob being the only person in attendance @ the funeral (iirc) definitely makes said circle feel like it must have been small...

The amount of Boxed Spaghetti Bob has gone thru, to me, means one of two things

1) it's an old stand by he still cooks to this day when he doesn't feel like cooking with his brain on

2) after a certain point swore he never had to eat the stuff ever again bc he can get new, better boxed 5 minute meals

fond of the former idea as someone who's has instant ramen noodles as a staple of my average diet since before i can remember

Ford as being adopted is an interesting thought :0!! I think I like that as some kinda shake up of imagining each family is a nuclear family, bc I'm certain they all couldn't have been

I like the idea of Ford working his way into and through college, he seems like he's able to do way more work than should he phsycially possible and that's almost definitely thanks to the teleporting but my god the dude's tired.

hc Ford and Otto meet after both passing out at the same long desk in the college library

#asks #britishsass #hcs

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sonderthroughthestreets · 3 years

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Hi! Idk what came over me but I thought an AU where Sander’s kid is anti-Bowie was the most hilarious thing thanks to @hidden-joy @kylesbishops and @sanderijzermans so I wrote it skdjdj

Disclaimer: it’s all fun and chaos and I don’t really know anything about how to write kids

x, x, x, x, credit to the chaos 🤪

The day Sander Driesen hears the words come out of his child’s mouth is the day he wonders if this is his child at all.

He’s standing there, leather jacket, white t-shirt and all, bleached hair icy even in the summer sun, and he looks down at the small stature in front of him. Grey-green eyes, dark locks and an air of confidence that could only be learned from a certain music-loving individual fill his sight. There’s so much innocence standing before him but a driven insistence breaks through the words spoken.

“Dad,” he hears. “I don’t know how to tell you this, but...I don’t really like David Bowie all that much.”

Sander thinks he’s lost his senses. He is definitely not hearing right. Hell, he’s only a man in his early thirties, he could not be this hard of hearing already. He tries to brace himself on the couch from falling over. Shit, he’s also too young to feel this frail.

“Wh-what do you mean you don’t like David Bowie all that much?”

The question comes out in gasps of air, ragged and winded, like he can’t believe what’s happening. He feels like his world’s spinning, like he’s entered another dimension, like there was no way, absolutely no way, his child doesn’t like David Bowie.

Denial is a pretty powerful thing, though...

See, when Alexandra Driesen was born, she brought light and life to Sander and Robbe’s eyes. She had a chubby face and squishy cheeks and eyes the colour of a summer storm. Her dark hair had been a blessing to match Robbe’s. Everything about her was as perfect as it could get. And then came the perpetual frustrations of parenthood with the screaming and the crying.

Sleep was something to be cherished at the Driesen-Ijzermans household. A few day-naps here and a doze-off there. But God, oh God, did Alexandra know how to cry in the middle of the night. Robbe and Sander spent hours upon hours holding her and swaying her and rocking her on a chair. Sander had read that sometimes music helps so he’d even done all that. Bowie usually floated in the shriek-filled room during these times and yet, Alexandra just wept.

“Come on, baby, just a little bit of sleep. Don’t you get tired of screaming all night?” Sander asked in that exhausted tone of parentese. He held her against the crook of his neck and walked around in sweats until he saw Robbe enter the room with blood-shot eyes and curls disarrayed.

“She’s still crying?” he asked with a rasp in his voice.

“She literally won’t stop and I don’t know what to do, I’ve tried everything. I’ve even got Bowie on for her,” he said.

Robbe took her from his arms and swayed her a little, cooing and kissing her tiny head.

“It’s kind of loud, though,” Robbe said to him as he then stepped over to turn off the music.

And in an instant miracle, the house was all quiet.

It seems that’s what’s always happened and Sander just hadn’t noticed it. Alexandra settled into Robbe’s chest and stretched her mouth in a heavy yawn. Her warmth radiated and glowed through Robbe, but Sander was stunned. He’s completely shocked.

“You-she-“ he stuttered clumsily for a bit. “But it was Bowie,” he said weakly.

How could his own daughter not feel at peace with Bowie? It was a connection he held with him, something connecting him and Robbe and what he hoped would connect their child to them in this little family.

“Hmmm,” Robbe hums pensively. “Maybe Bowie’s not her thing.”

“Not her thing?” Sander just about exploded. Then he suddenly remembered Alexandra’s finally gone to sleep and whispered, seething. “That is not our child!”

“Biologically, no. Legally and emotionally, yes,” smirked Robbe. “Calm down, babe, she’ll learn to like him soon enough. For now, how about we hold off on Bowie for a bit, yeah?”

He swayed her just a little more, just to really make sure she’s easing into sleep and then set her gently back down in her crib.

“How long?” Sander muttered and Robbe gave him a confused look. “How long without Bowie?”

Robbe contemplated.

“Maybe we give it six months or so,” he said.

And now it was Sander who wanted to weep. -

As the months and years went on, Alexandra had gone on without her Bowie-loving phase, only mildly being interested in the lightning bolt plushies and the songs blasting on road trips and the shirts Sander would get for her. Robbe says it just takes time for kids to get into stuff. That it’s better to leave it there in the open for them than to shove it down their throats.

“It’s barely any shoving,” Sander had grumbled.

“I know, babe. But I know how you can get sometimes,” Robbe had placed a soothing kiss upon his lips.

Still, Sander’s worries were increasingly growing.

Then a few years later, they’d adopted another beautiful girl. Mia was a radiant vision of blonde curls and brown eyes. They held a similar warmth that Robbe’s eyes held and Sander couldn’t be happier to lose himself in pools of coffee or dark, earthy soils or any other sort of metaphor for his favourite kind of brown.

To his relief, though, Mia loved listening to Bowie. She loved playing with the lightning bolt plushy and wearing all the shirts and as she grew, she and Sander had lots of music jam sessions blasting Bowie throughout the house. Alexandra was enticed into joining for a bit in the beginning but as time went on, Sander found it that she was making more and more excuses to not be in the same room when Bowie was mentioned.

“Uh, I got homework, Dad,” she’d nervously run her fingers through her hair.

“Uh, Papa needs help with dinner I think,” she’d run out with a tight smile.

“Group project due soon. Léon’s being a piece of shit and not pulling his weight at all.”

“Language,” Robbe would chastise coming around the corner.

“He’s being a dick?” she suggested.

“Fuck him.”

“Sander!”

“Sorry.”

Her interests lay instead in skateboarding with her friends, headphones in her ears listening to rap: BROCKHAMPTON and Stormzy with even a little Ed Sheeran in the mix, and keeping her hair as short as possible. She’d had a bit of a habit wearing overgrown shirts like Robbe did. But Sander found that endearing and he didn’t really think it was a case of ‘not-like-other-girls’ syndrome. He and Robbe just let her wear whatever she wanted.

And in fact, it was at thirteen years of age that Alexandra came out to the family as a boy. Sander remembers it clearly with them all huddled on the couch looking at the person in front of them with beady eyes, waiting.

“Dad, Papa, Mia. I think I’m a boy. I think I’m trans and I’d like to formally introduce myself to you all. I’m Alexander, or just Alex. And I use he/they pronouns.”

Sander had wanted to tear up, emotions flooding inside his rib cage. Happy tears, though, a joyous occasion where his son felt comfortable enough to tell them about this part of himself. That he and Robbe had created a space where he felt safe enough. Loved enough.

“I kept Alexander ‘cause, Sander,” he gestured to Sander. “But really, Alex is fine.”

And Sander wanted to cry all over again.

They’d all been encased in a huge family hug with Mia chirping that she’d ‘always wanted a big brother.’

Robbe and Sander had been quite supportive of it all, calling the school to change both the name and preferred name and asking if Alex was considering wearing a binder or getting a proper haircut. “Yes” to the haircut. “Hold off for a bit” on the binder. He’d whined a “Daaaaaad” when Sander ruffled the short brown locks. Most of Alex’s friends were cool with it, too and while it wasn’t all smooth sailing, he’d never run out of love from his family.

It was a big change and everything, but Sander thought, well...as long as he had his Bowie-loving children, it was all fine. -

It’s his worst nightmare. It’s the stuff that haunts you from the depths of the worst kind of hell, making your limbs feel like jelly. He’s cursing every name and divine entity and he’s really hoping Robbe’s right about those parallel universes because he’d love to hop over to the one where this wasn’t happening right now.

Sander’s having a hard time even looking at Alex in the eye.

“Dad?” he hears his concerned voice.

“I think I need to sit down,” says Sander, grabbing the armrest of the couch, lowering himself onto the cushion.

“It’s really not a big deal,” says Alex.

“Not a big deal?” Sander looks at him with wide eyes. “My own son hates David Bowie.”

“I never said I-“

“The man who infinitely changed my life. Space Oddity, Life on Mars, Ziggy Stardust, Ashes to Ashes. None of them?” Sander waves his arms. “You’re telling me you like none of them?”

“They’re...fine, I guess,” Alex shrugs innocently with a cringe to his face.

“Fine?” Sander squeaks.

“What’s fine?” Robbe trudges to them overhearing the conversation.

“Your son hates Bowie,” Sander squints his eyes at him.

“I do not,” says Alex. “I’m just pretty indifferent to him. He’s not exactly my style,” he shrugs, his hoodie moving with the movement.

“And what is your style?” Robbe laughs as he comes up behind him to rub his shoulders. He looks up at Sander with long lashes and a questioning smile stretching across his face. They share one of those ‘parenting looks.’ The ones where they know it’s not all that serious. But Sander thinks it is.

“A bit of rap, a bit of hip hop, some pop, some mainstream,” Alex lists off. “Not exactly the ‘80s vibes in me,” he laughs.

Robbe cheers as their tastes in music are quite similar and he proceeds to carry out their very own handshake they’d created when Alex was nine. There’s a different one with Sander. Sander, who’s getting more and more agitated by this revelation.

“Oh, okay,” he pats his knees and stands up. “Well, if you two are having such a grand time hating Bowie and bonding over your own music, I’ll just take myself and leave. No child of mine doesn’t like David Bowie,” he says dramatically.

“Sander…” Robbe looks at him.

“Dad…” says Alex.

“No, no. It’s fine. Really,” he begrudgingly walks out of the living room, almost knocking into Mia on the way.

“What’s with him?” she blinks twice and points a finger back.

Robbe sighs as he looks back at Alex.

“Your father, he…” Robbe puts a hand on his shoulder. “Bowie’s practically his life and so are the two of you, so I guess it’s really important to him that you like him, too. He’s just gonna need some time with all this.”

His eyes are apologetic and he gives him a half-smile, hand leaving his shoulder.

Alex takes in the words while Mia wiggles herself onto the couch and finds the tv remote beside her.

“You finally told him about Bowie, huh?” she gives him a gravely sad look. One that says he’s about to be doomed.

Alex just lets out a stressed breath as Robbe follows to go find Sander.

What’s so special about David Bowie anyway?

————————————————————————

Part 2 is coming! IM SO SORRY SKDJJF I just need sleep and rest

#wtfock #this sucks so much omg I’m so sorry #sobbe’s anti-bowie kid #<- liz I used the tag skdjdb #me writing a dad AU my god how did this happen #thanks Sarah for reading it over <3

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moonyswriting · 3 years

Text

Monopoly

Big thank you to @ttylfedora for helping me with this and just writing one of the paragraphs :)

Charcters are by @lumosinlove with minor changes

Requested by an anon on my main blog, i know it took me over a month. But today is the perfect day to post this.

HAPPY TRANS DAY OF VISIBILITY! 💕🥳

TW: coming out

They heard a knock and Finn got up from their couch, reluctantly removing himself from his lovers’ embrace to open the door. That only got Logan told hold Leo tighter, wrapping his legs around the taller person’s body, pulling them down so they were pressed together as close as possible.

“Regulus. Hey, man, how’s it going?”, they heard Finn’s voice from the door.

“Good, good. You?”

Finn and him held up easy conversation on their way back to the living room. “Reg!”,when Leo spotted their friend, they couldn’t help the blush that spread onto their cheeks. Yes, of course, he knew about the Cubs’ relationship and had seen them cuddling more often than not, but Leo still felt like it was an intimate moment. It was obvious that Leo tried to move out of Logan’s hug, to sit up on the couch and greet Regulus properly. Their smaller boyfriend had something else in mind. The blond was now sitting upright on the couch with a human koala pressed into their side. Leo didn’t complain.

“Nice flag you got there.”, Regulus noted as a grin split his face, looking from the trans flag the cubs hung up today to his friend, who had a similar expression on their face.

Leo looked up at him and answered smugly, “Thanks. I know.” They still couldn’t believe Logan and Finn had just accepted them so quickly. It was surreal really, thinking about how much time Leo had debated about what to do if they didn’t. But they had. They did. They hugged Logan tighter and looked up at Finn, who practically threw himself on the couch and onto his lovers in the process.

After leaving them to a moment of affection – because he knows they would want that – Regulus cleared his throat. “Leo. We have to go. The reservations are made. We can’t be late.”

It was something Leo had noticed. Reg got extremely anxious at the thought of being late. They didn’t know if it had something to do with his and Sirius strict parents, but he really didn’t need to know. Since they didn’t want their friend to get uncomfortable, the blond tried to get up again, with minimal success.

“Guys, you have to let me go.”, Leo whined, “It’s only for one night. I’ll be back tomorrow.” They turned to Logan, who had a pout on his face, clearly not happy thinking about Leo having a sleepover at Sirius’ and Remus’ place.

“But I need you to cuddle me.”, he whined holding his partner tighter.

“Logan,” Leo wiggled around in their boyfriends embrace to be able to look Logan in the eyes, “You have Finn for tonight and I’ll be back tomorrow, okay?” They leaned in closer and added in a quiet voice, “I’ll cuddle with you the whole day. I promise.”

Logan seemed to be debating their offer, only to squeeze their body one last time and then loosen his arms and press a kiss to their nose. “Fine. The whole day.”

They rolled their eyes, but stood up and walked over to Regulus. “Alright. I’ll be back tomorrow. Love you.” Leo turned towards the door and suddenly felt a heavy weight against their back.

“Love you too, Nutter Butter Baby.” Finn said, kissing Leo goodbye.

Logan moving next to them kissing his lover afterwards “Love you. See you tomorrow, Peanut.”

Leo leaned into the kiss, staying tucked into their boyfriends arms for a second, until Regulus fake coughed behind them and they let go.

“Alright Nutter Butter Baby. Can we finally go now?”

Leo turned around, facing their friend with eyes that could kill, but a slight smile on their lips. “Oh, do fuck off.”

The laughter echoed into the staircase as the friends made their ways into town for a round of bowling.

“So.”, Regulus asked picking up a bowling ball from its mount and stepped up to them lane. “Do you know what you want to say?” The ball, as it left his hand, went straight for the side and all the way to the end without hitting a single pin.

Leo swapped places with the other, “No.”, they groaned letting their head fall back for a second. “Is it not weird for you that I’m coming out to your brother before you do?” They both watched the ball hit three of the ten pins, “Ha! I’m in the lead!”, Leo celebrated before sitting back down.

“Okay, first of all”, he carefully selected a ball, “No. For me it’ll just be a spur of the moment thing, I won’t plan it and you’re ready now and he’s your captain. Go for it.” Regulus reassured them and rolled the ball down the line hitting three pins aswell, but waiting for one more to fall at their impact. “And Second.” he started again, “I am in the lead now, bitch.”

Leo laughed and rolled their eyes. “We’ll see how long that lasts.”

They played on for three hours, talking about everything that came to mind and being incredibly glad that they were able to change their shoes again. Leo’s had been a tiny bit too small and Regulus would have been able to fit in his wearing seven pairs of socks.

They arrived in front of Sirius’ and Remus’ place later that night, walking inside, toeing off their shoes and being greeted by the smell of fresh cotton and the sight of the couple sitting at the big table in the middle of the living room. There was a monopoly board on the table and Remus grinned up at them both.

“You up for a game?”, Regulus asked Leo as he got a glass of water for both himself and his friend.

A smile spread onto their face, “Only if you’re up for loosing.”

After a while, Sirius noticed the persistent bounce in Leo’s leg – a bounce he knew well enough to associate with nerves. The first thought that flashed across his mind involved the current game, but Leo was, in general, a good player. Whenever they played, Leo would put on the ‘goalie face’ – intense, focused, but relaxed. He turned to the younger one to get a further read on them. Leo had furrowed their brow and was rolling their bottom lip between their teeth – another two nervous habits Sirius had picked up on from working with Leo near on every day.

“Everything okay, rookie?”, Sirius asked.

Leo’s head snapped up from where they had stared at the board, lost in thought. They laughed stiffly, becoming more and more nervous by the second. It would be fine. They had done this once, they could do it again. Sirius and Remus would be fine with it. Leo was sure they would. Well, almost sure. “Yeah, yeah. I’m wonderful.”, they answered, voice a bit raspy.

“Nothing you want to get off your chest?”, Sirius prompted further, giving Leo the opportunity to talk, but not forcing them.

Leo knew he could see their leg bouncing. It was even moving the water in their glasses, there was no hiding it. They let out a sigh. Now or never. Although the statement was not completely true, it provided them with enough courage to actually spit out what was burning on their tongue. “Could you maybe, possibly refer to me with they/them pronouns from now on?”, Leo’s voice got smaller closer to the end but they were pretty sure both other man had understood.

“Of course, Knutty.” Sirius told him, as if Leo had just asked him to pass over the salt. “Whatever makes you most comfortable. Do you want me to tell the team or do you want to do it?”

That was not what Leo had been expecting. Looking over to the other, Loops just smiled at him and continued to stare daggers at his boyfriend, who had just cost him half his money.

“No. No that’s fine thank you, I’ll tell them.”, Leo told him, the surprise still evident in their voice. “Your support means the world to me.” they added a disbelieving smile on their lips, looking at the couple on the other side of the table.

“Yeah, no worries, buddy. We’ll be here every step of the way.” Remus told Leo, which almost made their eyes tear up. How did they deserve a team like the Lions.

Sirius rolled the dices and landed on one of Regulus’ hotels. “Pay up.”, Reg told him, with a bright grin. It seemed like the younger was going to win.

Sirius just pouted, turning to his boyfriend and started whining. “This is so unfair! I got onto his property five times already.”

Regulus didn’t even look up from where he had been checking what Sirius was due, just simply told him “Their property. Agender. They/them, thank you.”

Sirius didn’t even hesitate, before starting his sentence again. “I got onto their property five times already. Come on, this is cheating.”

Regulus often seemed like they didn’t care, but they flashed Sirius a grateful smile, receiving a loving one and a wink in return.

“Love you.”, Sirius mouthed as Remus continued the game.

Regulus felt it wash over them, warmth spreading through their body. “Love you, too.”

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palmett-hoes · 3 years

Text

i said in this post that i have original characters and backstories for neil's extended family. it took me,, a really long time to write it all down. it's been a full month since the original post, and this is still just a run through of things, not full prose, which i might be interested in doing one day but not anytime soon

now, some things to note about what i'm writing, why, and how. methodology, basically. this might not have come through yet in my posts, because i just don't post about my half-finished ideas, but i research a LOT. i like to base what i write about on real life, even if it's just headcanons and fanfic

also, i love helping people with research, so if anyone wants help with research for a fic or just their personal headcanons or anything hit me up!!

as a white person who wants to write characters from different ethnic backgrounds, i feel i have a responsibility to really do my due diligence and research as much as possible to consider things from every angle. and part of that for me is making sure that every character of color has a backstory. they don't just appear somewhere, i have to give them a reason for being there and a story for how they got there, even if that's not what i write their STORY about. people, come from places, basically. i follow a lot of demographic census information and population averages, as well as a lot of history, from as general as transatlantic trade in the last 500 years to as specific as the changes in a single city in a certain year

talking to other writers in the fandom i know i'm a little overzealous, but this is what gives me peace of mind to feel like i am putting the effort in to get things right

so anyway, as for what that means here:

i like writing neil as mixed black/jewish. it works well thematically for his character, as well as just what FEELS right for how i visualize him in my head

only, that can't simply come from nowhere. we know who his parents are. they need to also be poc for neil to be one, and they're a complicated pair to handle in that lens

one choice i made about that, for multiple reasons, is that everything about neil's parents' backgrounds should mirror each other. it can't simply be that one if them is black and one is jewish, or even that mary is both and nathan is white, because that says something i don't want to say any way you slice it. additionally, i want both facets of his ethnicity to be important to neil, and i feel as though he would want to ignore the half of himself from his father.

so: they both have to be mixed, giving them a sort of,, ideological equal footing, as it were. that way, i can also write three different experiences, rather than accidentally implying that This is what being black is, or This is what being jewish is, or This is what being mixed is. and that's also important to me, even if it's just in my head or not even directly addressed. it's still a big consideration of mine anytime i write about any of them

now, finally, onto mary and nathan! i'll put it below a cut because this is already long enough, the under-the-cut is much longer, and i don't want to wear out your thumbs if you don't care

mary hatford

canon timeline, neil was born in 1988. as a tentative number let's say mary was around 30 when he was born, meaning she would be born in the 50s. say her parents were roughly the same age, so they were born around the 20s

like i said, what's happening where in history is very important to me for building these backstories, and major historical events tend to have a lot of influence on population shifts. and well,, jews and europeans in the early-to-mid 20th century? there's no getting around involving world war II. nothing explicit, but it is mentioned and part of the story

mary’s paternal family are the hatfords. they're from the british west indies, largely jamaica, but they've been involved with shipping and trade all over the trans-atlantic region for generations.

they have a complicated relationship with the british empire, having both worked for them and against them at various points, sometimes both at once. similarly, they've tried multiple times through the generations to relocate the family to england permanently, but have been turned away or pressured out

they associate england and the british empire with power, and they both disagree with and desire that power in degrees which vary person to person. they do have a general idea between them though that living in england is a sign of status and authenticity, and while they don't want to leave jamaica permanently they do want their center of power to be in england, and there is a deep resentment against the anglos for not allowing them to stay permanently despite their wealth and influence, the fact that their work will always be looked down on and seen as lesser

i did come into building the hatfords with the primary idea of them being black british, and looking into the organized crime connection second. them being jamaican/west indies is a reference to the jamaican posse, who have a large presence in the london crime scene, although that's really the only connection. the hatfords aren't really yardies in any sense

the hatfords' status as organized crime is a little iffy. mostly they skirt the line between legal and illegal, owning legal trading companies and doing plenty of legal shipping. their main business in the criminal underworld is being middlemen moving supplies for other groups. they have a lot of contacts, and they serve an invaluable role in international smuggling, but they rarely get their own hands dirty. they move things from one place to the other and don't question too much what it is, though they don't deal in people

mary's father is named samuel hatford (first name in reference to samuel bellamy, the gentleman pirate king of the early 18th century). he was born in England, raised largely in Jamaica, then moved back to England as a teenager/young man. he's light-hearted and a bit idealistic for someone from a crime family, seeing the best in people even when they're cold and often believing in principle over profit, which at times put him in conflict with what's best for business

he almost enlisted in world war II, but instead convinced the family to work as weapons and supplies runners supporting the Allies and guerilla resistance groups

mary's mother is named cima ben nahman (ladino/judeo-spanish/sephardic names, doesn't really reference anything or anyone in particular). She's is an algerian jew. Born in algeria (city undecided, though algiers had the largest jewish community at the time), she moved to france for a few years as a young woman, probably for education. she joined anti-fascist organizations which became resistance groups once germany invaded

she's stoic, and has a ruthless mind for strategy. like most algerian jews, she's caught between her home country and its colonizer. the french empire played the algerian muslim majority against the jewish minority as a way to create infighting and distract the algerians from uniting and turning against them, but the algerian jews also then became reliant on the french for protection. (it's a really, really complicated situation)

cima sort of hates them both, both algeria and france. her only allegiance is to being jewish

(contrast this to samuel, who feels that he is BOTH british and caribbean, even when those two identities may be in conflict)

cima and samuel met when samuel provided weapons and supplies to cima's militia group. he took particular interest in them and went out of his way to help, above and beyond the other groups the hatfords were supplying

in the waning period of the war, cima was seriously injured, i'm currently thinking a land mine accident. she survived, but her recovery was slow. she lost an arm and had burns across half her torso, neck, and face. samuel brought her to england supported her through her recovery. in the hospital, they spoke a lot about why they each chose to fight, and the ways they did because neither were formal soldiers fighting for a country. samuel was in many ways fighting for an ideal, while cima was fighting for her people. cima also talked to him a lot about judaism and religion during this time, which samuel took an interest in. eventually, cima decided to stay

they got married. samuel converted, which was somewhat controversial with his family. however, cima agreed to join the family business, where she became an integral but sometimes ruthless member. after algerian independence, she brought some of her trusted family and community into the fold as well, some moving to england and others to france

both cima and samuel believed very heavily in responsibility, though what it meant for each of them was different. cima believed in preparedness and follow-through, samuel believed in family and protection, doing what's right outside of the bounds of the law. this contributed a lot to how they raised their children

when they were born, mary and stuart were raised in england (and i like to think they have an oldest brother). the hatfords were a big family, and influential, although careful about balancing the legal and less-legal sides of their business. the ben nahmans were smaller, and most of them were in france so mary and her brothers saw them less often. they were raised very religiously and culturally jewish, though close with the caribbean side of their family too, as well as being the first generation who were born and raised in england. this put them at a cross-section of three very different cultures, and was where mary first learned about changing and blending in with different groups

mary was the youngest and a little bit spoiled by her father, aunties, and uncles. her mother however was much less tolerant of her. clearly very affected by her time in the war, cima became extremely distrustful and suspicious, and tried to instill in her children a similar sentiment of secrecy and self-sufficiency, avoiding attention and casual relationships. she could be harsh on them, especially mary, who was the most resistant to this

growing up, mary was irresponsible and fun-loving, goading her brothers and cousins, getting in trouble, and starting fights. she didn't understand the tenuous balance of being organized crime, and at times put the whole family at risk by overestimating their sway. her mistakes affected the whole family but it was usually her mother who confronted her about them first and most harshly

she resented her mother's control, and didn't understand the reasons behind it. she also couldn't differentiate between the boundaries her mother sets as a result of her own trauma, and the necessary boundaries she set for the safety of the family, viewing them as one and the same, and leading her to hate any kind of control exerted over her

really, a lot of cima's character is just who mary ends up becoming after being married to nathan and being on the run. i like the story of a child becoming the parent they once hated. rather than learn from her mother, both her failures and her successes, mary becomes her, doomed to make the same mistakes. this is also why cima is wounded by a landmine, because mary dies in fire

---

nathan wesninski

nathan was HARD to come up with a story for, mostly because,,, WHY THE FUCK DOES THIS GUY WORK FOR THE JAPANESE YAKUZA

wesninski is a VERY polish name. the japanese-polish connection is,, not super strong

so anyway, working off the idea of the wesninski family being a polish jewish one, WHERE is he going to meet a japanese crimelord to get into a multi-generation debt/business arrangement with?

turns out, the answer is brazil

brazil actually has a large jewish population (roughly 10th largest in the world). it began with its colonization by the portuguese, but the 19th century to modern population largely comes from central and eastern europe. brazil ALSO has the largest japanese population outside of japan

also this story ended up being WAY more detailed and prosaic than samuel&cima's story, which is basically just bullet points. there's no reason for this i love both stories very much just for some reason the words flowed for me here and not there

to avoid having a second jewish story where wwII is prominent, the wesninskis get a page out of my own family's book: nathan's grandfather (neil's great grandfather) came to the americas fleeing the russian pograms around the turn of the 20th century

Wesninski came to brazil (city undecided, have a lot more research to do about individual cities in brazil). he had waardenburg syndrome(a hereditary genetic condition that can affect eyes and hearing) which runs very strongly in his family (his son, nathan, and neil will all inherit it), and he is completely Deaf. while he came to brazil alone, in his new home he connected both with the local jewish community and the local deaf community, and eventually marries another Deaf Jewish woman

eventually they were able to establish a kosher deli and restaurant in the city, one which became a common hangout for the Deaf community. then one day (probably around 1915), a group of japanese men came in, and kept returning

these were the moriyamas, recently arrived from japan, in a place with very few japanese people and businesses. they liked the wesninski deli because they didn't share a language with anyone in there, couldn't even be heard by most of them, and it would also be difficult for the authorities to question them. two layers of protection for a crime family in a vulnerable place

wesninski and the moriyamas were amicable to each other, but as they didn't actually have a way to communicate that was the extent of it. but the moriyamas were polite and payed well and didn't bother the other customers. als, as a jewish establishment, they had a lot of education resources, which were helpful to the moriyamas in learning about brazilian society, including beginning to understand portuguese

now, in japan, the moriyamas were a small yakuza family. they got driven out by their bigger and stronger and more established competition around the time when japanese immigration to brazil was just starting, so that was where they went. though they had little option in where they ended up, they also had little competition in establishing their business

i still have a lot of research to do about the moriyamas. about both how the yakuza operate and about how brazilian organized crime works, and about life in brazil for early japanese immigrants. so a lot of the moriyama details are pretty vague

now the wesninskis had a son, meyer (nathan's father. name in reference to meyer lansky, famous american jewish mobster of polish descent) who was around 14 when the moriyamas arrived. he himself was not fully deaf like his parents, though was hard of hearing and raised in the Deaf community. as he goes through his rebellious teenage years, well, the gangsters are right there

in the early days the moriyamas were still more concerned with mostly the japanese enclaves, but they had aspirations of expanding. meyer wasn't japanese, but he was helpful to the moriyamas who came into the deli to study. he was perceptive and bold, could keep a secret, knew his way around knives from working in the deli, and knew the city. he was a good asset to them, and he was interested in causing some trouble

over the next ten years or so, meyer got increasingly more involved, alongside the moriyamas becoming increasingly more established throughout the city. he goes from someone who helps out occasionally and relays information beyween parties to getting involved with minor shakedowns, bribery, evidence disposal. by the time he's in his 20s he's thoroughly enmeshed

his parents were older when they had him, and his father died relatively young, leaving meyer the store and his mother to take care of. they were vaguely aware of his connections to the moriyamas and didn't approve of what he did with them but he also kept the worst from them, and was always a diligent son, and the only one they had. he assured them no matter how far he went that he wasn't "really" part of the gang

"yakuza have tattoos, and see, ima? no tattoos. i'm still a good jewish son, not a gangster"

now the problem arises when meyer falls for camara da machado, a young Deaf woman who frequents the store

(based on/inspired by/FC yaya dacosta (where the name comes from) and rutina wesley)

she was a Deaf girl born to a hearing family who struggled to give her the support she needed, maybe even just a single mother, and she'd spent a lot of time alone at the deli from a young age (12-ish?). she was shy and quiet and a little bit of a shrinking violet, but the wesninskis became very fond of her. she started tentatively helping them out around the store which became a job. she was often included in family meals and holidays, and always had a bed in their apartment above the deli if she needed one, and more than once had helped patch meyer up after he got in trouble to hide the extent of it from his parents

she was a couple years younger than him but he'd always been sweet on her. and she'd had a crush on him from basically the moment she'd layed eyes on him. they'd known each for years and camara was basically family, and then one day when they were both in their 20s it just suddenly clicked for them

so meyer and camara fell in love. meyer was head of the house, had to keep the deli running, and had his mother, camara, and possibly camara's mother (undecided at this juncture) to worry about and he decided he didn't want to continue working with the moriyamas in case it dragged his family into danger. being a gangster was a fling of youth and he was ready to grow up

when he informed the moriyamas of this though, they,,, did not agree.

while MEYER might not have considered himself part of the gang, THEY didn't think he just got to walk away. he'd worked with them for too long and knew too much. there might even have been a desire to tie him to the family permanently through marriage. and well,, one man against a growing criminal empire can't do much

it was a huge shock to him, and made him truly realize how naive and reckless he'd been. he'd been a dumb kid who wanted to start some trouble, the moriyamas were career criminals. they expected that once you were in, you were in for life, and they did not take kindly to meyer disagreeing with this

he didn't know how to explain this to his family... so he didn't. they'd all told him they wanted him to stop, but he'd meant for the announcement to be a surprise. after learning that he would not be permitted to walk away, he chose to just hide it and continue with business as usual

it worked for a while, maybe a few years, a time during which the moriyamas were getting a lot more brutal as they got more established and increasingly looked to expand, putting them in competition with other gangs and greater law enforcement, until they were a true crime empire spread across whole regions of the country. meyer had lost a lot of esteem in their eyes by asking to leave, leading them to put him under increasing scrutiny and giving him more incriminating tasks, to ensure that he would be incriminated if he ever tried to turn them in. it's during this time that he first had to kill for them

then camara got pregnant

and meyer was terrified. he didn't know how the moriyamas would deal with a kid. the only marriages and children he knew of within the family were endorsed by the boss, many arranged by him, and he knew his wouldn't be approved. yakuza wives were heavily involved with the business too, and he absolutely did not want that for camara

he broke down and told her everything. she's horrified, and furious that he kept it from her, but she didn't want to give up her baby. it would be hard, but she believed they can keep it hidden, and if the moriyamas found out, maybe it wouln't be so bad?

(spoiler: it would)

they have a son, born natan da machado, under his mother's name

meyer and camara never got married. meyer was going to propose after he left the moriyamas but that obviously didn't happen. marriages were supposed to be blessed by the boss, and meyer never dared to ask. they already lived together, anyway

but with natan, they decided that meyer couldn't acknowledge him as his own. in the deli or in the streets, he didn't acknowledge natan. he was camara's bastard son, and meyer didn't want anything to do with him

it was a flimsy disguise at best. natan was mixed, but there was a strong enough resemblance to his father. even if his hair was a darker red or he had brown skin, they had the same eyes

they tried to keep him away from the moriyamas as he grew up, hoping they wouldn't see him and make the connection, but they also kept him very hidden in general, just in case. he spent a lot of time inside, with his grandmothers

and that was how natan grew up, feeling like a secret, his father cold and distant, only acknowledging him in their apartment. cut off from other kids his age. a hearing boy in a Deaf family (natan himself was HoH but still had most of his hearing. meyer and his maternal grandmother could both hear, but they had gotten out of the habit of it and mostly communicated through sign)

natan developed a deep feeling of resentment towards his father and shame about himself from a young age. he felt like a mistake, defective somehow. so wrong he had to be hidden away from everyone

there's only so long that you can hide a child, though, and when natan was around ten the moriyamas found out about him, and they were not happy.

they didn't like split attention or loyalty. they kept children and family under very tight wraps. they should be one hundred percent enmeshed in the moriyama empire, raised to be loyal and helpful in whatever way they were needed. the fact that meyer wanted and was willing to leave for this family, and then hid his son, was a huge betrayal

still, they gave him an opportunity to prove his loyalty: kill camara or the moriyamas would kill them all: her, natan, meyer, and both their mothers

but meyer couldn't do it, and instead he told camara to run and hope they didn't actually care enough to chase her down. and she did. and she couldn't take natan with her. (i haven't fully fleshed out why yet, currently thinking that meyer was given this ultimatium when they already had natan)

so camara left her son, and got away

i built the story of mary's mother as a reflection of mary's story if something had been different, and i built nathan's story the same way. his wife takes her son and runs away with him when the moriyamas try to take him from her. nathan's mother was in the same situation and left him behind

over the next forty years of his belonging to the moriyamas he gets to marinate in that resentment. from the father that ignored to the mother who ran away from him, he internalizes it as being something wrong with him, not the circumstances. the more he's taught to torture and kill and the more he excels at it, the more this belief gets cemented. he's good at killing, he was meant to kill. he's twisted and broken and wrong inside and he always was and his parents always knew

and then when it happens again but differently this time he throws away a decade and millions of dollars and his standing with his boss to hunt down his son and his wife because he didn't get to run away so why should they? why does mary love nathaniel more than camara loved natan?

from here, the exact detail's of nathan's story aren't quite solidified. whether he was raised by his father from then on or by his grandmothers (or whether his grandmothers left with his mother) or whether the moriyamas put him somewhere else entirely, but from then on he lived under the moriyamas' direct supervision, and they taught him how to turn a knife on a man

they took his mother's name from him, though, so he's natan wesninski, not natan da machado, because they own the wesninskis now

and when the moriyamas decided to expand beyond brazil when natan was a young man instead of a child, and settled on the east coast of the US, they renamed him nathan, because it sounded more "american"

---

so that's it. obviously there are still a lot of unfinished details in both stories, but they're strong enough at this point to stand on their own and i haven't changed or rethought a lot of the major details in a long time

i've become extremely attached to these OCs and their stories, and i hope they interest other people too. some day i'd like to write them out in prose properly, along with the story of nathan and mary meeting, but that'll be a while away considering the pace i move at

so until then i just wanted to put this out there

#aftg #tfc #neil josten #nathaniel wesninski #mary hatford #nathan wesninski #txt #my fics #my writing #my posts #black neil josten #jewish neil josten #cw gangs #cw organized crime #cw ww11 #cw wwII #long form post

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tlcwrites · 3 years

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Two Hearts Make a Whole

Prompt: “Kiss me again, like you mean it.” Photo prompt below.

Summary: NYC Pride is for celebration, and occasionally, long-overdue revelations.

Word Count: 2,001

Tags/Content warnings: Marvel. Stucky. If you have a problem with it, there's the door. SFW. Slight TFATWS spoilers so read at your own risk. Platonic Reader. Two idiots in love. Technically canon-divergent because I'm still in my everyone-is-alive-and-in-this-timeline happy place that I will never ever leave fuck you very much Russo brothers but not AU. Found family. All the feels. Complete and total LGBTQ+ support. Lots of bad language words because #me. Un-beta'd.

Author’s Note: Okay so yes this is technically 4 weeks late for @autumnleaves1991-blog's Writer Wednesday weekly challenge. BUT, it was incredibly important to me to finish this one before Pride month is over. Made it by the skin of my teeth.

Happy Pride, y’all. If you’re out, you’re amazing. If you’re closeted, you’re amazing. However you identify is valid and important. Trans folx are LGBTQ+. Bisexuals are LGBTQ+. Ace folx are LGBTQ+. Anyone who identifies or thinks they may be as queer is LGBTQ+. All are welcome in the family. You have the right to choose your pronouns and we have the responsibility to use them. Live whatever your truth looks like to you and love each other. Love is love is love is love. If your family doesn’t accept you for you, I’m your mom now and I’ve got mom hugs available on demand. Homophobes and TERFS can fuck off and roll in poison ivy. Always punch Nazis. Pride shouldn't be limited to the month of June. And don’t you dare forget that Black and Brown trans women were the ones who rioted at Stonewall, and we owe everything to their bravery. Don’t forget that much of popular ‘gay’ culture was appropriated from Black women. And for more facts about Pride that you should absolutely know, Rawiyah Tariq (@ mammyisdead on Instagram) has a phenomenally good overview.

“Oh my god.” You gasp loudly. "Oh my GOD. Is that-"

“What?!” Instantly in First Avenger Protective Mode™️, Steve surveys the crowd, wishing he had an actual shield instead of the screen printed one on his shirt. “What is it?”

You gasp again, smacking Sam’s arm repeatedly. “OHMYGOD IT IS HOLY FUCK.”

“First; ow.” Now-Cap rubs his bicep. “Second; clue in the class before Steve has an aneurysm, please.”

Vibrating with excitement doesn’t begin to describe your current state. “HER ROYAL HIGHNESS MISS LEMON MERINGUE IS STANDING RIGHT FUCKING THERE.”

With the finesse of a shampoo commercial, Bucky's dark locks fly as he whips around. “What?!”

“RIGHT THERE RIGHT THERE RIGHT THERE.” You abandon a relieved Sam and latch on to Bucky’s vibranium arm. “Oh my GOD I love her so fucking much.”

“She was robbed, absolutely fucking robbed,” he agrees, craning his neck to get a better view. “Divine Tension’s lip sync was shameful.”

Sam glances at Steve, who is slowly coming out of protector mode. “What the ever-loving hell are they talking about?”

“RuPaul’s Drag Race.” Nat flicks more confetti at both Cap-the-former and Cap-the-current. “They watch it every week.”

“Really, Steven, for a guy with enhanced super senses, you miss a lot.” Tony hefts a bedazzled Morgan higher on his back. The toddler, accompanied by Scott playing air-piano on the ground, sings along with the ABBA song being blasted at full volume through the street. Tony continues as if this is an everyday occurrence. “Why do you think both of your People disappear every Friday evening?”

Ears pink, Steve mumbles something.

“What?!” The only other one with hearing enhanced enough to hear a murmur over the cacophony of several thousand people belting out the chorus of ‘Dancing Queen’ at the top of their lungs, Bucky turns to stare at his friend. “You thought we were datin’?”

Steve’s blush extends down his neck.

You and Bucky stare at each other for a moment before you both collapse on each other, exploding into stomach clenching, thigh slapping laughter.

“I’m gonna guess that’s a ‘no’?” Clint confirms with Nat.

“Oh, a big ‘no’.” She watches affectionately as you and Bucky calm down enough to look at each other, breathe for a second, and both promptly dissolve into hysterics once more. “Like, the biggest ‘no’.”

Sam crossed his arms across his chest, his stoic stance so reminiscent of Steve it’s amusing (as well as a beautiful disparity to the sequined crop top he’s sporting. Oof, those abs.). “How do I not know about this?”

“Because you’re not a former super spy?” The usually-Black-but-today-Rainbow Widow tosses the last of her confetti at Tony, who spins a jubilant Morgan into it. “Or because you and that leggy barista from the lobby coffee shop are too busy playing hide-the-“

“-Baby Shark!” Morgan suddenly shrieks, flailing towards a guy on roller blades wearing a fin and tail (and not much else).

“Yeah,” Nat finishes with a smirk, “Hide-the-Baby Shark.”

Sam flips her a gesture that makes Clint laugh and Bruce sigh.

You and Bucky have finally managed to pull yourselves together. “Oh my god, Steven Grant,” you gasp, wiping tears from your eyes. “That’s the funniest fucking shit I’ve ever fucking heard.”

“Language!”

Steve glares at Tony. “One. Time. It was one. Time.”

Bucky slings his flesh arm around Steve’s shoulders. “Oh, punk. You may have perfect vision now, but sometimes you’re still as blind as you were before.”

Visiortn himself nods sagely. “Humans can be quite unperceptive when it comes to matters of the heart.” Vision casts a fond smile at Wanda, who is using her powers to make Pietro’s tinsel wig fly on and off. “Sometimes you have to look harder to see what’s right in front of your nose.”

A confused frown on that handsome face, Captain Clueless looks at Bucky. “Why do I feel like everyone else knows something that I don’t?”

His bestie sighs deeply. “Because, Stevie, almost everyone else on this planet knows that my tastes tend towards tall, blonde, blue-eyed knuckleheads who have zero sense of self-preservation.”

“And an ass you could bounce a quarter off of,” Scott helpfully supplies.

“And that,” Bucky agrees.

Steve frowns.

You press your palms to your eyes in vexation. “You, Steve. He’s talking about you.” (Seriously, how has this idiot survived for over a century while being so dumb?)

Whatever he was expecting, it was certainly not that. “He-“ The Man With A Plan gapes as he turns to his oldest friend. “You-“

“Me,” Bucky says gently.

Even though you’re slightly surprised that Bucky is going to do this in such a public forum, you can’t help but be so proud of your friend. It has taken a long time for Bucky to believe he deserves to be happy. There are days he still sinks into that dark place, where his inner demons whisper that he should have fought harder against his Hydra captors, and that his past actions were still somehow his fault. Those are the days no amount of baking or Modern Marvels will bring him out of his funk. You, Steve, Sam, and Nat have all held those strong shoulders as they shook with sobs, overwhelmed by the shame and horror at what his hands had done without his consent.

But he’s here. He’s free. And he’s smiling nervously at his best friend.

“I-” Steve is short-circuiting. “Me?!”

“Stevie.” With the kind of tender patience that can only be born of a lifetime of keeping (or attempting to keep) an idiot such as one Steven Grant Rogers from flinging himself headlong into every fight he comes across, Bucky moves his flesh hand to the back of Steve’s neck. His face is full of such soft affection that you almost want to look away for fear of intruding on this suddenly intimate moment. “What do you think ‘til the end of the line’ means, you idiot? You’ve been it for me since I was thirteen-years-old.”

Blue eyes are locked with blue eyes as Steve processes this revelation. “I-” He shakes his head as if to declutter his thoughts. “This whole time?”

“Since the first time I saw that asshole knock you down, and your scrawny ass climbed right back up.” A wry chuckle escapes as Bucky reminices. “You were ninety pounds soaking wet, and you stood there, against a guy who was three times your size, and never waivered for a second. It was magnificent.”

“I don’t like bullies,” is Steve’s quiet response.

Bucky’s grin is adoring. “I know, sweetheart.” He gently strokes the back of Steve’s neck with his thumb. “You’ve always had a heart way bigger than your brain.”

Steve is still back on the first part of Bucky’s admission. “If you’ve felt- if you-” He’s practically pleading. “Why didn’t you say anything then?”

Bucky shrugs, attempting and failing nonchalance. “It was a different time, you know?” He’s uncharacteristically unsure of himself, the subtle waiver in his voice revealing the anxiety born of a lifetime of being forced to hide his truth. “I mean, you remember how it was; you didn’t talk about, no one talked about- about being- about people like...” He swallows thickly. “And I was so scared you didn’t, that you weren’t-” His voice breaks.

Even though you’ve all been emotionally invested in this love story for years, the entire team respectfully pretends not to listen as the former Winter Soldier quietly admits his deepest secret to his closest friend. It’s enraging as Bucky confesses yet another way he's been a victim of his circumstances, and denied his right to live freely without derision. Once more, you’re awed by his resilience.

“-it was a risk I couldn’t take,” Bucky finally gets out, that stubborn fire back in his eyes. “I couldn’t lose you, Steve. I couldn’t chance it. I could live with just being your friend and only your friend so long it meant you were in my life.”

Stunned silence meets the end of his confession. Steve’s face is impassive, those cerulean eyes uncharacteristically inscrutable.

You can all tell Bucky is heading steadily towards dread and heartbreak the longer Steve takes to respond. You and Sam exchange a look, both ready to intervene if Steve demonstrates any of the abhorrent attitudes that were so prevalent in the society of his youth. It would be completely out of character for him, but...

Finally, Steve speaks. “You’re telling me,” he says, his words slow and deliberate, “that you made me wait ninety-three years to tell me you’ve felt the same way about me as I have about you since the day you picked me up out of that alley?!”

The whole found family breaths a collective sigh of relief as Steve pulls Bucky even closer, broad chest to broad chest.

“Okay, to be fair, you were an ice cube for most of that time and I wasn’t exactly available for a relationship.” Bucky’s grin stands in contradiction to his mullish defense. “But yeah, that’s the gist of it.” There’s the Bucky you all know and love, biting his lip with those perfect white teeth. “Now, punk, I’d really like to kiss you now, but first I need you to say you want me to.”

“You-” Steve’s throat works as he attempts- and fails- to rein in his emotions. “You jerk.”

And then the Star Spangled Man seizes the president of the Sometimes-Former-Assassins Club by his ridiculously perfect face and crashes their mouths together.

At any Pride event, seeing two men kissing is, obviously, to be expected. But seeing The First Avenger and The White Wolf attempting to swallow each other’s tongues is not at all routine. As people realize what is happening, the crowd is whipped into a frenzy the likes of which is usually reserved for the aftermath of sporting events and elections that defeat fascists.

Watching the two men embrace, Scott sniffles loudly. “I’m gonna cry, I’m so happy.”

He’s certainly not the only one. Wanda has a watery smile as she wraps her arms around Vision and Pietro; Pepper, Tony, and Bruce are watching with fond parental energy; you and Sam sandwich Peter between the two of you, grins practically splitting your faces. Even Nat’s eyes look suspiciously shiny and she and Clint sling their arms around each other with platonic affection. And that’s not counting the several thousand people who are cheering for love being love being love being love.

When they finally break their embrace, the Centennial twins are startled to see they’ve collected quite an audience.

“Uh, so…” Suddenly bashful, Steve glances back to his- partner? Boyfriend? Soulmate? Is there a word that can accurately describe two people who have found each other time and again in a world that seems hell-bent on keeping them apart?- his ears practically maroon with embarrassment. For a guy with one of the most-recognized faces in the world, Steve is still incredibly and endearingly uncomfortable with attention. “Buck?”

Bucky seems just as stunned as Steve.

Thankfully, the masses demonstrate the usual support that’s the hallmark of Pride. “LOVE IS LOVE!” someone screams in the crowd. It’s quickly echoed, and chants fill the park.

The attention momentarily off them, the former Winter Soldier and his giant himbo of a soulmate look back at each other. You pretend not to watch through the happiest tears as they embrace again, bringing their foreheads together. The relief they share is palpable, as they’re finally able to show the world- and each other- the love they’ve each hidden for so long.

Bucky’s voice is so soft you have to strain to hear it. “You have no idea how much m’in love with you, Stevie.”

“Pretty sure I do,” Steve answers, bringing a hand up to carefully wipe the tears from Bucky’s face. “‘cause it’s as much as I love you, Buck.”

Bucky's answering grin can only be described as saucy. “Then kiss me again, like you mean it.”

And Steve, for once in his long life, does exactly as ordered.

---

A/N: “The Sometimes-Former-Assassins Club” is from Starry_Emerald173’s BRILLIANT The Avengers Wrangler over on AO3. If you haven’t read it yet, drop what you’re doing and do so immediately. Make sure you're not drinking any liquids, or your keyboard/phone may be in peril.

#writer wednesday #steve x bucky #stucky #steve rogers fic #pride #steve rogers fanfiction #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #stucky fanfic #stucky fanfiction #love is love #happy pride #steve rogers x bucky barnes #platonic reader #my writing

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lucemferto · 3 years

Text

WE NEED TO TALK ABOUT PH1LZA (or Why Philza is a Victim of Narrative Circumstance)

Heyo! Per request I am posting the script to my video of the same name here on tumblr. I must warn you that just reading the script will probably not give you the full experience, so I would encourage you to watch the video (linked above).

There might also still be a lot of grammatical errors in the text, because I don’t proofread.

Intro

LAST TIME ON LUCEM FERTO

Okay, so! I don’t want this to turn into a reaction channel OR a Dream SMP channel for that matter! [echo]

Well, I lied.

[Intro to “Luc is pretentious about the funny blockmen. Episode 2”]

I swear, I’m working on other stuff. It’s just that my dumb lizard brain has only capacity for one interest at a time!

So, something you might not know about me, is that I am on tumblr – who am I kidding, most of you will know me from tumblr. Before starting this whole YouTube thing, I thought that website died years ago – but as per usual reality proves me wrong. I’m also on Twitter and Reddit, but I get the most engagement on tumblr – by far! – and I need those sweet, sweet numbers for the serotonin!

Anyways, one of my favourite past-times on tumblr is to razz Philza Hardcore Minecraft – that’s his full name – for being a frankly awful father [clicking away] – wait, wait, no! Philza fans, this isn’t a hit piece on him, I promise! Please come back!

This is video is meant to be a companion piece to my previous video about Technoblade and the Doomsday event – you can tell by the shared nomenclature – so you should probably watch that one before you proceed. Unless you don’t want to, which is also perfectly understandable.

DISCLAIMER: This video is mostly about the character Philza plays on the Dream SMP. Whenever I talk about the content creator Philza, I will say so properly. Also, Spoiler Warning for Dream SMP Season 2.

… What is that? You’re wondering what the Dream SMP is? Well, if you had just watched the other video like I told you to do, you would know, because I explained it pretty well there. But in case you don’t know, here’s the cliff notes.

Dream SMP is the hottest New Media Series on Twitch right now! It has it all: gaslighting, child soldiers, Machiavellian political intrigue, Hamilton roleplay, desecration of the dead, shounen protagonists, SO! MUCH! AMNESIA! Filicide, furries, a red egg that’s definitely homophobic and teenagers inventing nuclear warfare. And it’s all done in Minecraft – yes, the funny block game where the only way to emote is to crouch.

And you say the perfect brief doesn’t exist!

Now, you might be wondering, why do I want to talk about this? Well, it’s because Content Creator Philza is one of least controversial internet personalities that I can think of. That man exudes pure comfort. So, it’s just very, very amusing to me that his character became one of the most controversial figures on the SMP, only outshone by Tommy and Technoblade.

And it’s not just amusing, it’s also extremely interesting! I want to dig deep to uncover and discuss the dynamics behind why that is. How did it come to this point? How did a man who appears genuinely so pleasant create a character that inspires so much discourse!

Now, if you watched that Technoblade video – like I told you to twice now! – you might know, that I am the resident character analyses hater of fandom! And that impression is false and slanderous! Don’t tell other people that I hate character analyses! I love them!

It’s just that, in the Dream SMP in particular, there is an abundance of character analyses! Every streamer has at least two very good essays written about them, exploring every possible angle to view their characters and backgrounds and everything. All I’m saying is: I don’t have anything to add on that front.

So, instead I want to pursue a different approach – something, that I feel is a bit underrepresented in the fandom! And I’m not just talking narrative analysis – that’s right, this episode we’re going even more pretentious! – I’m talking Transtextual Analysis!

Now, what is Transtextuality? Well, unfortunately it has very little to do with actual Trans people – #transrights, just in case that wasn’t obvious – but instead describes a mode of analysis with which to put – to quote French literary theorist Gérard Genette – “the text in a relationship, whether obvious or concealed, with other texts”.

Basically, you know how the L’Manburg War of Independence heavily quotes and borrows from the hit musical Hamilton? That’s transtextuality! A lot of the analyses surrounding how Tommy mirrors the Greek hero Theseus, who was invoked by Technoblade multiple times in the series, are already doing transtextual analysis! So, it’s really not something that’s new to the Dream SMP fandom.

But how does this apply to Philza and how he is looked at and judged by his parental skills? Well, there are multiple forms of transtextuality, two of which we will discuss today.

But before we continue, I gotta do that annoying YouTuber thing. I know these videos don’t look like much, but I spend a really long time making them. I work fulltime and I try my best to keep up, but sometimes I can’t. So please, like, subscribe, comment to give me some algorithm juice – I really need it – and most importantly share it! Share it with your friends, share it with your family – I’m sure Grandma is very interested in what I have to say about Philza Minecraft.

And I’m trying to be better! If I sound at all different for this video, it’s because I finally bought a new pop filter, so I can hit my plosives without it sounding like there’s a thunderstorm in my room. I hope it makes a difference; it was a very cheap pop filter, so maybe it doesn’t. Maybe it sounds worse – that would be bad!

What was I talking about? Oh yeah, CHILD NEGLEGT!

Intertextuality: Why is Dadza?

You know what’s really interesting about the Dream SMP – aside from, you know, most things about it? Very few of the characters have concrete, fleshed-out backstories – and that’s pretty weird! In no other medium or genre could you get away with something like that – at least for long-form storytelling!

So, how does Dream SMP get away with this? Well, it’s because every character on the Dream SMP is basically a self-insert – and I don’t mean that in the “This character is based on me”-kinda way, but in the “This character, for all intents and purposes, is me!”-way. This, like many things that are fascinating about the Dream SMP, is owed to the fact that this series didn’t start off as a continuous drama – it started off as a Let’s Play.

And while we can talk about how someone’s on-camera/on-mic persona is in some ways a character, it’s still miles off of being an actual, fully-realized, separate character in a storyline.

This is where Intertextuality comes in.

Intertextuality is a subset of Transtextuality. It describes how the hypertext, which is the text, you’re currently engaged with, uses another text, the hypotext, to supplement itself. The interconnection the hypertext establishes with the hypotext, through stuff like allusion for example, uh-hum [Hamilton], can colour how an audience interprets the hypertext. Basically, Hamilton and Theseus are the hypotexts; the Dream SMP is the hypertext.

So, what does this have to do with backstory? Simple: The backstories of the characters in the Dream SMP consist basically of nothing but intertextual references. Through intertextuality their content effectively substitutes their character’s backstory.

You can see it everywhere. Wilbur’s and Schlatt’s relationship and rivalry is hugely enriched, if you are aware of their shared history like SMPLive, for example – I think anyway. I haven’t watched SMPLive, because … there’s only so many hours in the day and I cannot keep up with the Dream SMP and catch up on SMPLive and live a healthy life – which I already don’t do, so…

BadBoyHalo’s and Skeppy’s relationship, which has become the crux of the Crimson-Storyline of Seasons 2 and 3, is hugely supplemented if you know that they’re also very close as streamers and in real life.

Another great example of intertextuality is basically Technoblade’s entire deal. If you just look at him completely within the text of the Dream SMP and try to transplant his entrance to any other medium: It would be extremely weird! Like, he’s just this guy that comes in in the middle of a very climatic arc, no build-up, no explanation what his deal is, and he’s treated like he has always been there. In any other medium that just wouldn’t work – at least not without a flashback or some sort of exposition!

But because of stuff like Minecraft Mondays, the Potato Wars, his Duel against Dream and SMPEarth, we understand that he is a Big Deal!

Anyways, to bring all of this back to Philza Minecraft: What kind of hypotext informs how the audience sees his character? Well, this is where I will have to talk about SBI.

SBI is an acronym that stand for State Bank of India, the 43rd largest bank in the world and…

It also stands for Sleepy Bois Incorporated. Sleepy Bois Incorporated is a loose assembly of content creators, consisting of Philza, Wilbur Soot, TommyInnit and Technoblade. It is most well-known for its very endearing family dynamic – a dynamic that is frequently acknowledged and played up by the creators involved. Tommy is the youngest brother, Wilbur and Techno are the two older brothers and Philza is of course the dad. And when I say, it’s played up, I really mean it! Wilbur seems to be especially enamoured with the idea and leaves no opportunity untaken to bring it up – which we will come back to.

And I’m not saying that they’re faking this and this is somehow an act. While I know none of these people personally, it appears to me, that this is genuinely how they interact – if a little exaggerated for the streaming experience. Even when they’re not consciously playing into the family dynamic, their interactions still very much lend themselves to that interpretation by the viewers.

Philza especially just radiates Dad-Friend energy – so much so that it has become a huge part of his brand identity – yay, I can bring that back (check out my Christmas video if you want to hear me ramble about that). The nickname Dadza stuck even before SBI was a thing.

So, even if we completely disregard SBI – which we shouldn’t for reasons I’ll get back to – Philza has cultivated an image of strong paternal guidance. He is, in my opinion completely deservedly, regarded very positively. He is highly respected and in turn seen as a voice of reason.

All of this would eventually inform the hypotext of the character Philza within Dream SMP.

Interlude: Before Dadza & November 16th

Okay, so now we have established that a) Dream SMP heavily hinges on intertextual readings by the audience to supplement character backstory and b) that Philza’s entire deal is that he’s the dad-friend – more specifically that he’s the dad of SBI (not the bank). I think you know where this is going.

So, yeah, ever since it was on the table that Philza could join the Dream SMP, it was immediately assumed that he would take on the paternal guardian role all these traumatized people on that server so desperately needed – and with good reason! Like I said before, the audience at this point was trained to take intertextual interpretations as basically canon or at the very least canon-adjacent.

I want to emphasize that this is most likely not done deliberately. I’m sure content creators Wilbur and Philza didn’t sit there and said: “Yes! We will rely entirely on the audience’s inclination to interpret our characters intertextually to define character Philza!”. Like, obviously that did not happen.

But it’s also important to remember that unlike with traditional media and the fanbases cultivated there, the separation between the Dream SMP and its audience is almost non-existent – and purposely so. The story events are streamed live, Chats are acknowledged in canon and even outside of livestreams creators are extremely involved with the fandom. So, the weight of fan-expectations is equally amplified and will more likely be incorporated into the writing process. Case in point:

[Wilbur “I miss Philza”/Philza about Wilbur]

During Wilbur’s villain arc, even before his official involvement, Philza became a prevalent point of discussion. The hope that he would be the one to snap Wilbur out of his downward spiral was not only wish-fulfilment on behalf of the fans; it also very much played off of the intertextual reading of the SBI-dynamic in relation to the Dream SMP.

Of course, this still doesn’t make Philza and Wilbur canonically blood-related – but it definitely used the “paternal”-dynamic of SBI to build-up tension and drama.

And that ultimately brings us to November 16th. The Grand Finale of Season 1 and Philza’s first canonical appearance on the SMP.

Now, for this I want to pull back from the transtextual analysis and talk about simply narrative analysis: What is Philza’s narrative purpose on November 16th?

Philza serves as the last threshold on Wilbur’s Villain’s Journey – to appropriate Vogler’s version of the monomyth for a minute here – he is what Vogler calls the “Threshold Guardian”. He is the last enemy the Hero faces before completing his quest – in this particular case Wilbur’s quest is to blow up L’Manberg. Multiple people have at this point tried to dissuade him from this course of action: Tommy, Quackity, Niki and others. So how come this Philza moment is not redundant in terms of dynamics compared to these prior scenes?

Well, it’s through our intertextual understanding of Wilbur’s and Phil’s relationship. Because Philza does not just occupy the role of the Threshold Guardian – he is also implicitly the Mentor. Before Phil there was no character in the storyline that held a higher position of moral authority than Wilbur – Dream and Schlatt, while at points more powerful in terms of actual authority, were never positioned by the narrative as Wilbur’s superiors in the same way as Wilbur was to Tommy, Tubbo or even Niki.

Before November 16th all challenges Wilbur faced were from people narratively subordinated to him. But that trend is broken with Phil. That is why he is the Threshold Guardian, why this confrontation is at the climax of Wilbur’s arc. Because Phil is the last thing tethering Wilbur to whatever morality he held before his villain arc; Phil is the last, moral obstacle Wilbur has to discard before gaining his reward.

And, just a quick sidenote, because I’ve seen it around the fandom a bunch: When I’m referring to Wilbur denouncing his morality, I’m using that in terms of narrative analysis. I’m mentioning it, because Wilbur’s character can very easily be read as mentally ill or neurodivergent and some people have – rightly! – pointed out that the excessive vilifying when talking about his character is … problematic, to say the least.

So, I just want to make clear, this isn’t a character analysis, I’m being purposely broad when talking about Wilbur and Phil.

In the end, Wilbur takes that final step and gets his “reward”: As his final request his mentor takes his life and vanquishes the evil – the dragon of Wilbur’s story slays the dragon of L’Manburg. It’s very Shakespearean in its tragedy – but beyond the larger theatrics it’s not really used to further characterize Phil – at least in the context of Season 1. There’s not a lot of focus on his characters internal conflict during November 16th.

Phil, like Techno, is very utilitarian in how content creator Wilbur writes him: He serves as a moment of hype; an obstacle Wilbur has to face; a participant in the tragic climax of Wilbur’s character and ultimately takes on his implicit and expected role of mentor and guiding figure to the rest of L’Manburg.

I think not a lot of people talk about how Philza does not join Technoblade during November 16th. He takes the side of L’Manburg – he fights against the withers and he joins Tommy, Tubbo and the others at the L’Mantree, thus framing him as loyal to the L’Manburg administration – even though Season 2 would make his loyalty to Techno central to his character. But more on that later.

What’s also important about November 16th is that this is the day when the general intertextual interpretation became canonized text.

[You’re my son!]

Wilbur is made Phil’s canonical, biological son. The intertextual interpretation of SBI as it pertains to these two characters on the SMP was completely reinforced by the narrative. Or to put it in Fandom terms: The headcanon became actual canon. At least when it came to Wilbur … but what about Philza’s “other” children?

Well, that leads to our second form of transtextual analysis:

Paratextuality: Is Dadza?

These titles are just getting better and better.

The Paratext is defined as all those things in a published work that accompany the text. It comes in two forms: One of them is the Peritext, which are non-diegetic elements directly surrounding the text – like chapter titles, author’s notes, and stuff like that. Translated to the medium of the Dream SMP, it would be stuff like this:

[Examples]

And, trust me, I could make a whole separate video about how people on the SMP use their peritext as a tool for storytelling – I’m looking at you, Ranboo – but that’s not what we will talk about in the context of Dadza.

Instead, we will focus on the second form of Paratext, the Epitext, which consists of all authorial and editorial discussions taking place outside of the text. That’s stuff like interviews, private letters or J. K. Rowling’s Twitter Account – you know, before she decided to become a full-time asshole.

[Wilbur: Transrights]

After Season 1 ended, Wilbur indulged pretty heavily in providing epitext for the Dream SMP, something he had not done prior to November 16th. His paratextual additions ranged from the playful, like assigning DnD alignments to various SMP members, to the extremely impactful, like the whole three lives system!

You probably think, you know where this is going. Wilbur provided some epitext about how Tommy and Techno either are or are not biologically related to him … and I have to be honest I thought that too. But then I began looking into the impenetrable web that is the SBI-canon on the Dream SMP and found this!

[Ghostbur explains family]

So, it wasn’t paratext, it was just straight text. Said in character, in canon, without any implication that we the viewers should question this. The text of the SBI family dynamic was explicitly linked to Dream SMP-exclusive lore, namely Fundy being Wilbur’s and Sally the Salmon’s son. This is as clear as Philza’s anguished declaration on November 16th in establishing the intertext as text. And because Wilbur also had a very heavy hand in the discussion of paratext around that time, it gave his character’s words even more “canonical” weight. Metatextually speaking, this very much read like the author giving exposition through his character – exposition that we should understand as reliable.

And, by the way, before I continue, I need to give a huge, huge shoutout to kateis-cakeis on tumblr, I hope I pronounced that right, who was just so quick in providing me with these crucial clips. Without him I would have looked for days because these people don’t archive their shit! And the Dream SMP Wiki was NO help, by the way! I love what you guys do, but stuff like this belongs in the Trivia section on characters’ pages!

Anyways, basically during the entirety of early Season 2 the SBI family dynamic was basically canon to the SMP. Sometimes it was only alluded implicitly, again letting the intertext fill out the rest.

[Philza clips]

But just as often it was just explicitly talked about – both in the text and in the paratext.

[Fundy clip/Wilbur “Twins” clip/Tommy clip]

So, I know what you’re thinking: “Why is this part called paratext, if the entire family tree is just textual”. Well, that last clip might give you a hint, as to what I will talk about. Notice how Tommy, one of the people most directly impacted by the canonization of SBI lore, is both unaware of and seems generally unenthused about it, to put it nicely? Well, that would soon turn out to be a much bigger deal than anyone could have imagined as he wasn’t the only one.

[Technoblade decanonizes SBI]

Yeah …

This happened on 20th of December. Regular viewers of this channel will remember that I put out a 90-second joke video, where I complain about this very development. And while I was mostly kidding around, the core idea is still true. The paratext provided by Technoblade and established text were in direct contradiction with one another – and that brought a lot of confusion into the fandom. Confusion, that would soon be followed by frustration.

Because Techno only decanonized himself as part of the SBI family dynamic – but what about Tommy and Tubbo, the latter of which was incorporated into the dynamic exclusively within the lore of the Dream SMP. Was this still canon or wasn’t it?

What followed was a muddled mess of contradictions, intertextual implications, text and paratext in conflict with each another. It was for the most part inscrutable to figure out how Tommy and Philza related to one another. I’ll spare you every comment made about this – mostly because I want to spare myself from looking for all of them.

In the end, the current status is that their familial relationship is … unclear. Philza said, again in paratext, that it’s ultimately up to the writers to decide, whether or not Tommy is his son … which, I personally think he and Tommy should be the ones to establish that, but I’ll come back to that later.

But why is all of this important anyway? Why would this ambiguity create such an uproar, such controversy – especially when it comes to Tommy’s character? What makes Tommy’s and Philza’s relationship such a target for discussion in the fandom?

Well … this is where we will have to talk about the storyline of Season 2.

Interlude II: Tommy’s Exile and Dadza in Season 2

Okay, Season 2. This is where the spoilers are, so I will just sneakily drop this again. It took me five seconds to google this gif and I will milk it for every penny it’s worth!

At the beginning of Season 2, Philza’s narrative role has not changed much from where Season 1 ended. He is in L’Manburg dispensing earthly wisdom, being a paternal figure to Fundy, Ghostbur and Tubbo, helping with the nation’s rebuilding efforts; just generally occupying the role of the mentor.

[clips]

And then came … the Exile. The Exile Arc took place between December 3rd and December 15th during Season 2 of the Dream SMP. It revolves around TommyInnit getting exiled from L’Manburg and slowly getting psychologically tortured and broken down by Dream. It’s a really great arc, at least in my opinion, that explores and deepens a lot of Tommy’s character relationships, whether that be Tommy and Dream, Tommy and Tubbo or Tommy and Ranboo. One relationship, however, is noticeably missing.

So, yeah, Philza spends basically the entirety of the exile doing pretty much nothing of consequence. And that’s not a problem specific to him – One big criticism I would levy against the Exile Arc is that a lot of characters are left spinning their wheels. Which is why we get zany stuff like El Rapids, Drywaters, Eret’s Knights of the Roundtable, Boomerville – anyone remember Boomerville, that was a thing for 5 seconds, wasn’t it? – basically a lot of storylines are started and then unceremoniously dropped. Now, I will talk more about this, when I make a video about Season 2 of the Dream SMP … in ten years, look forward to it.

In the case of Philza, this inaction was especially damning, because at this point it was still a considered canon that he was Tommy’s dad. So, the fans were left with a situation, where just a few weeks prior Philza was occupying a paternal role for Fundy and Ghostbur … but now, that his youngest son was in a very concerning predicament – to put it lightly – he was nowhere to be found.

So why is that?

Well, the most obvious answer is that Dream and Tommy didn’t write him into the storyline. We’ve seen that Tommy wasn’t particularly interested in exploring a familial relationship to Philza, at least at the time. And it would just not fit in with what Dream and Tommy tried to do with the Exile Arc: they wanted to tell the story of Tommy being isolated, completely under Dream’s mercy, slowly worn down and manipulated. If Philza had been constant presence for Tommy during that time, it would have definitely shifted the narrative focus. That doesn’t mean that they couldn’t have done that, it’s just a matter of fact that they didn’t.

This also reveals another truth about content creator Philza’s character work, that I think is extremely crucial: He takes what the writers give him. Outside of a few choice moments, he doesn’t seem particularly interested in expanding or even solidifying his character on the SMP.

What I’m saying is that he is very go-with-the-flow: Wilbur wants to enact a Shakespearean tragedy? Philza’s up for it. Fundy wants him as a parental figure and mentor? Philza’s here for him. Tommy, conversely, doesn’t want him as a paternal presence, even though it would make sense for Philza’s character, as it was established so far, to be there? Philza will oblige.

The reason I’m mentioning this is because, while Tommy and Dream were unwilling to utilise Philza in their storyline, someone else was more than happy to. Which leads us back, like it always does, to everyone’s favourite Porky Pig-kinnie in a crown: Technoblade.

Technoblade and Philza, from everything I’ve seen of them, seem to be very good friends – and they share a lot of history even outside SBI. So, it’s commendable that they would collaborate on a storyline together.

A consequence of that, however, is that Philza’s narrative purpose shifts completely with very little transition. His entire character changes from being the Mentor-figure of L’Manberg to being pretty much exclusively defined as Technoblade’s ally; his man on the inside. It is a very sharp turn from the end of Season 1. Their relationship is once again informed via intertext – this time the Antarctic Empire on SMPEarth serves as the hypotext – but there isn’t a huge effort made to smoothly integrate that aspect of Philza’s character into the larger narrative framing around him.

How much the narrative utilisation of Philza has shifted can be very easily observed through the Butcher Army event on December 16th, a story event that I like less and less the more I think about. Here Philza is used to show just how corrupt and violent Tubbo’s administration has becomes. He is no longer the respected mentor, he is now the stand-in for the oppressed populace, similar to Niki’s role in Season 1. On a narrative level, he is here to prove a point.

If you’ve seen my Technoblade video, you know how I feel about … just that entire storyline, so I will not reiterate too much on it. I just want to make clear that I’m not principally against this development – if they wanted to truly explore Tubbo going down a dark path and getting corrupted by power, so much so that he would even treat the person who effectively raised him like a prisoner, I would be extremely here for it, I cannot stress that enough.

The problem I have is that it’s just so sloppily done. It is not coherent with how these characters behaved and, more importantly, how they were narratively framed prior to the Butcher Army event. Fundy gets one token line about Phil being his Grandfather – a far cry from the very emotionally complex relationship they had established at the beginning of Season 2 – and Phil then callously disowns him.

The major problem simply is that we don’t see how Philza changes from Mentor-figure to embittered, oppressed citizen. And there was enough time to build to that. During the entirety of Tommy’s exile Tubbo was pretty much spinning his wheels and Quackity and Fundy were opening up plot cul-de-sacs that didn’t end up going anywhere. This is time they could have spent on developing their relationship to Philza and the dark path they were going down – but again, Season 2 video.

There is not much to say on Philza’s narrative purpose and framing beyond the Butcher Army event. He remains pretty much exclusively Techno’s consigliere with his role as Mentor to L’Manburg a distant memory. He has some cute character moments with Ranboo, because content creator Philza is just big dad-energy whether he wants to or not, and whenever he and Ghostbur share a scene suddenly the narrative remembers that there are people other than Technoblade that should exist in Philza’s inner world. But aside from that, Philza’s storyline in Season 2 remains … pretty definitive is the nicest way I can put it.

Most importantly his relationship with Tommy continues to be completely unexplored – whether by chance or choice – and that combined with ever vaguer paratext leaves “Dadza” in a very peculiar situation.

Conclusion: Is Dadza a Good Dadza?

So, the question to end all questions. The big, obnoxious text, that I will probably have put in the thumbnail – I haven’t made it yet, but I know myself. The honest answer is: I couldn’t tell you.

I have, in the past, been expounding the virtues of narrative analysis. That is because I feel that Narrative Analysis and Textual Analysis, like in this video, can provide certain tools that Character Analysis lacks. Often times I see people trying to get at a writing problem or query and getting frustrated because they’re not using the toolset, they need to figure out what they want to figure out.

But I’d be a hypocrite if I pretended like everything could be solved through the modes of analysis I prefer. And I think the Dadza-issue is exactly such a case.

I set out to explore why the Philza-Tommy-“Dadza”-relationship has become so controversial. It’s a combination of expectations build up through intertextual readings, that were partly canonized – something that is very common for the Dream SMP – conflicting pieces of paratext, which only serve to muddle the issue further and a text that is not only completely uninterested in actually exploring Tommy’s and Philza’s relationship – as it stands right now they might as well be strangers, narratively speaking – but also completely changes Philza’s narrative purpose as it relates to characters like Fundy or Tubbo about half-way through with little to no transition.

That is why I say, that Philza’s character is a victim of narrative circumstance. Because unwittingly, through all of these factors and decisions, there is not coherent reading of Philza that frames his parental skills in a particularly kind light.

The question of how we can judge Phil as a paternal figure ultimately falls within the purview of the character analysis – and that’s a very multifaceted issue, highly dependent on which POV you focus on and how you interpret the other characters in that POV’s periphery.

To put my cards on the table, I think that Philza is a very flawed father/father-figure – and I find that absolutely okay. Flaws are the spice of character building. He is not Cinderella’s Evil Stepmother – but he’s also definitely not Mufasa. If we were to read Philza as a paternal figure, then he would have made a lot of mistakes and decisions to the detriment of his “children” – least of all everything that happened on Doomsday.

But I also have sympathies for Philza fans who are tired of the Dad-Debate and would like to have his character judged independent from his relationship to Ghostbur, Fundy, Tubbo and Tommy.

Ultimately, to bring it all to a point, I’d like to end with saying, that I think that Philza, out of all the characters on the SMP, has the potential to be on of the most intriguing, multifaceted ones. There are all of these different patches of story, character moments and narrative and transtextual implications, that, if brought together, could create a beautiful tapestry of the character Philza.

You have his relationship with Techno, which holds the potential for so much emotional conflict and vulnerabilities, you have his time as mentor of L’Manburg, which is just criminally underused; the complex relationship between him and Ghostbur/Wilbur; and – for me, personally – most intriguingly this weird, almost uncomfortably distant non-relationship with Tommy. That last one is intriguing to me, because it contrasts just so much with our intertextual understanding of the characters and streaming personas – and it just holds the potential for so much conflict, so much drama, so much angst. Which I live for!

And, yes, I do believe that most of this is narrative happenstance, that this was largely not intended by Philza or really any of the writers. It’s just what happens when hybrid-roleplay-improv a long-running, livestreamed storyline in Minecraft.

But I want them to realize the potential they have on their hands, because it could – with barely any adjustments – turn Philza from a victim of narrative circumstance to a champion of it!

Outro

Thank you so much for watching this video. Usually, I don’t record outros this standard, but after this beast of a video I felt it necessary. I hope that whether you’re a Philza fan or a Philza critical or just completely uninvolved in the whole thing, there is at least a little entertainment you could get from this.

I want to take this opportunity to say that my next few videos will probably not be Dream SMP related – a sentence which undoubtedly lost me a bunch of subs – simply because I don’t want to burn out on it. I genuinely enjoy watching the SMP and being exhausted by it would be something I wouldn’t want to force on myself.

But who knows what will happen? The Karl Jacobs video was something I did spur of the moment because the idea just came to me – so I can’t guarantee that the next video won’t be a three-minute joke about Purpled or whatever.

Anyway, my concrete plans for future Dream SMP videos are essays on Season 1 and Season 2 as well as one for Tales from the SMP.

Before that I have a longer video in the works, which I’ve already teased a bunch, so I hope it will finally be finished sometime. And I also may be working on something … eboys-related? Maybe. I’m not making any promises!

117 notes · View notes

mariecuttlefish · 3 years

Text

New You (2k words, trans girl Marie)

Since it’s Marie’s day, here’s an old piece I wrote back in 2019! For all of the trans Marie fans out there. 💚

External links: [Google Docs], [AO3]

Warnings: None. Appropriate for all ages.

Description: Callie and Marie are preparing for their first performance together as the Squid Sisters, and Marie is nervous from more than just stage fright; it's also her first time coming out to the world as Marie.

-----

"I'm really nervous, Callie."

Marie stared at her reflection in the mirror and adjusted the little ring-shaped hat clipped to the side of her head for the dozenth time. Was her mantle too messy? She quickly ran a brush through to try and smooth the ink out again – it was almost lucky her tentacles were as short as they were, or else she probably would have wrung them dry by now with how anxious she was.

Her cousin stood beside her playing with an anemone doll that she'd brought along, somehow relaxed and upbeat in spite of all Marie's worrying. The two were getting ready for their first public performance together as singers, and Callie had spent the past half-hour helping her keep her cool as the big moment got closer and closer. Marie couldn't understand how she wasn't also losing her cool, but then, it had been Callie's idea to sign up for the Inkopolis Youth Folk-Singing Contest in the first place.

"You're gonna do great, Marie!" Callie insisted. "Look, Miss Zoantha says so, too!" She scooted her doll across the table in front of them and began cheering, in a voice that sounded nothing like the cartoon character she was imitating, "Go Marie! Marie is super cool! She's the best cousin on the whole planet!"

Marie couldn't help but crack a smile, both at her cousin's goofiness and at hearing the name she'd chosen for herself used so readily. "Zoantha doesn't even have a cousin," she said, fidgeting with the sleeve of her yukata. She looked back up at the face in the mirror – at the young girl in front of her with her eyebrows trimmed down, her mantle styled to be as feminine as such short tentacles would allow, her mask decorated with fake lashes just like her cousin's. "Um… hey, Cal?"

Callie stopped parading the doll around and looked up; she knew the sound of unshakeable worry in Marie's voice. "What's up, Marie?"

"What if they don't think I'm a girl?" Marie asked. Her eyes were turned downward, her hands clasped nervously in her lap. Even more than the thought of singing in front of hundreds of people, this was the part of the contest that made her the most anxious: it was her first time being a girl around anyone other than Callie.

"They will!" Callie nodded confidently. "And they'll think you're a super pretty girl, 'cause that's what you are! Promise!" She leaned in to give Marie an awkward chair hug, and Marie returned it hesitantly.

"Do you really think I look pretty?" Marie hadn't been able to stop fiddling with every part of her look since the moment they'd been brought backstage to wait for their performance. She knew that the way she looked would be cute on another girl, but every little issue she noticed and struggled to fix made it a bit harder to be confident that it would look good on her.

"Uh, duh," Callie said, not missing a beat. "We're matching! I'm pretty, and you look like me but green, so that means you're pretty but green! It's like the transitive property like my big brother told me about. I think."

Marie giggled and pulled away from the embrace to look herself over again. It was true, they could almost pass for alternate versions of each other; if Marie had been born with the same near-black ink that Callie had instead of her own silvery-white tentacles, it probably wouldn't have been hard to convince people they were twin sisters. That was even the name they'd chosen to perform under, the Squid Sisters – "That way people will know for sure that we're both girls!" had been Callie's pitch.

Marie took a deep breath, counted to ten, and exhaled. "Okay," she said at last. "I think… I can do it. I think."

"That's the spirit!" Callie nudged her shoulder. "Hold on, lemme go get Gramps!" With no hesitation, she ran off, weaving through the crowd of other children and their parents all getting ready to perform, then disappearing out the door across the room. Their grandfather lived in Inkopolis, and he had been the one to bring them to the contest when both of the girls' parents were too busy to make the two-hour trip into the city. Callie had insisted on him waiting outside while they got ready, though, so that Marie wouldn't be any more anxious than she already was about presenting as a girl.

While she waited on Callie to return, Marie decided to try hyping herself up as much as she could. She locked eyes with her reflection, leaned in over the vanity table as much as she could, and put on a confident glare. "You can do this, Marie. You've got this. Just like Callie said." She spent several minutes there, repeating quiet self-affirmations to herself, until Callie ran back into the room shortly after, slowed down by the elderly man she pulled by the hand behind her.

"Gramps, Gramps, look! We styled our tentacles all by ourselves and everything!" Callie announced proudly as she reached Marie's chair, running up beside her and bouncing excitedly in place. Marie turned away from the mirror and hopped down from the seat to stand beside her cousin, much more timid in her demeanor. "What do you think? Do we look super fresh?"

Gramps chuckled at his granddaughter's enthusiasm, taking a moment to adjust the old sailor's cap he wore now that he'd gotten a chance to slow down. "You look very fresh, both of you. But uh…" He turned his gaze toward Marie, and she felt her chest tighten as he examined her appearance. "What's with the makeup on you, kiddo? Did your cousin rope you into letting her give you a makeover again?"

"I, um..." Marie felt the confidence boost she'd had moments before slipping away, and her mouth went dry as she tried to find the words she wanted. How could she explain that she wasn't a grandson anymore, but a granddaughter just like Callie? And would their grandfather be okay with it? Would he let her go on-stage looking the way she knew she wanted to?

Callie noticed her hesitation and stepped in front of her defensively, puffing her chest up as if in defiance of their only chaperone. "Her name is Marie and she's a girl and I did her makeup because she wanted to look pretty, and if you don't like it then I'll beat you up!" she proclaimed – just a bit too loudly, as Marie noticed some of the others in the room turn their attention to them and felt herself shrinking emotionally just a tiny bit more with each second they stared. Her anxiety wasn't always the biggest fan of her cousin's natural boisterousness.

There was a moment where neither side said anything, and the onlookers quickly lost interest and went back to their own concerns. Gramps doffed his hat and scratched the back of his head as he processed the new information. "I see… Do your parents know about this?" He looked past Callie to give Marie a quizzical look, fishing around for something in the pocket of his denim shorts.

"Um… n-no," she answered quietly. "Are you going to tell them?" She watched his hand; was he reaching for his cell phone? It was the knowledge that her parents wouldn't be able to attend the show that had given Marie the confidence to present feminine for once – she felt a pang of dread that they might find out anyway before she'd even gotten to perform.

"Hmm?" Gramps cocked his head to the side. "'Course not, kiddo. If you haven't told 'em yet yerself, it's not my business to do it for ya." From his pocket he pulled a small, beat-up notebook and pencil, opening the notebook to a particular page and scribbling something out. "Just gotta update my Squidmas shopping list. It wouldn't make much sense to buy a bunch of boy's clothes for my newest granddaughter, would it?"

Marie's eyes widened slowly. Still huddled behind her cousin, she beamed up at her grandfather, all the anxiety of coming out to him (or, rather, having Callie come out for her) being washed away by elation. Here was the first person to learn she was a girl other than Callie, and he had accepted her as readily as he'd accept learning that she had a new favorite color. He evidently noticed, as he reached down to ruffle her tentacles before giving her a big hug. "As long as my granddaughters are both happy, that's all that matters to me," he assured her.

Callie joined in – she took any opportunity she could get to hug people – but after a moment another thought seemed to strike her. "Heyyy, wait a minute," she started, looking up at Gramps. "Gramps, are you buying us clothesfor Squidmas again?"

The old man laughed. "Maybe not, maybe so. I don't want to make Father Squidmas angry by spoiling it, now do I?" Callie just pouted and crossed her arms; she'd been asking constantly for a seapony, and Gramps was the one holdout in the family who still hadn't given a definitive no to that request.

Her protests were stopped early by a tall, energetic inkling woman stepping into the backstage area. She had a clipboard in one hand and was going down a list written on it. "Let's see, let's see… next up is the Squid Sisters, from Calamari County! Squid Sisters, are you here?"

Callie quickly turned and jumped up to get the woman's attention, waving her hands excitedly. "Over here! We're the Squid Sisters!" She stopped bouncing, glanced back at Gramps behind her, then added, "This old guy isn't a Squid Sister, he's just our gramps." A few others in the room laughed at the comment, Gramps included.

"Well, come on over, Squid Sisters. You're performing right after the current group." The woman extended a hand as Callie approached with Marie close behind, and they both shook it politely. "My name is Miss Eventide, but you can call me Miss Tide. I love your yukatas, by the way!"

"Thanks!" Callie grinned.

"Thank you," Marie added, more bashfully.

Miss Eventide went over what to do when it was their turn to perform – wait until their names were announced, take the stage, introduce themselves, and then the music would start – and then rushed off to go help manage some other part of the show. Before the girls could leave for the sidestage to get ready, Gramps walked over to join them once again.

"You two do your best out there, alright?" He patted them both on the back, gesturing out toward where the stage was with his bamboo cane. "I'm gonna be right there in the audience cheering you two on. I know you'll do great."

"Yeah! We're gonna do awesome!" Callie cheered. "Especially you, Marie!"

Marie smiled and lifted her head. Nervous as she still was, she was beginning to feel more confident in herself – both in her ability to go out there and sing for an audience, and in her ability to be seen as a girl while she did it. Tonight wouldn't just be her first night as a singer; it would be her first night as Marie, and she knew that no matter what happened, she had the support of her cousin and her grandfather to back her up.

"We're both going to be great," she agreed, nodding her head. Gramps smiled and turned to leave and join the audience outside.

"That's the way to be," he said. "Break a fin out there, you two. And remember – stay fresh!"

"Stay fresh!" Callie and Marie both cheered back at him, and then both giggled at the catchphrase they had come up with together.

The girls headed through the door and into the sidestage, both of them with their heads held high. As her cousin smiled beside her, Marie could feel in her heart that things were going to go well for her. This was the start of the Squid Sisters, the start of a happier life, the start of Marie. It was her very own fresh start, and no matter how their performance went, nothing was going to take it from her.

#splatoon #marie #callie #cap'n cuttlefish #tidal writing #pepperpost #the backstory for this fic is that i wrote it in two hours while waiting for a flight #funny enough it seems to be my most popular splatoon writing so far

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beelspillowpet · 3 years

Note

If your requests are open and your willing to, would you be able to do the brothers reacting to a trans MC? 👉🏻👈🏻 preferably female to male, but either way is fine! Sorry if your not comfy with this type of request >~<

Anon, just because you were afraid that I would turn down your request, I am going to PROVE to you how much it doesn’t bother me I'm going to do the 7 brothers AND the side characters. Because you BETTER BELEIVE we have a cast of supportive people!! Yessir!!!

I myself am the twin sister of my late twin brother, who was also FtM! I’ll be using his memory as inspiration, if you do not mind? Thank you for requesting this!

Lucifer

At first he presumed you were just not girly. He didn't really mind your behavior or way of dressing, so long as you got your tasks done on time and were on your best behavior.

When you cut your hair and stopped wearing that nail polish (despite Asmo’s pleading) he still thought nothing of it. You wore pants, and started trying your best to drop hints, and thankfully, Lucifer isn’t an idiot.

So what you’re telling me is that we’ve made you uncomfortable when referring to you as a woman? If that is the case, MC, then we would be more than happy to refer to you as anything you request. You only need to say the word.

He is dedicated to making sure you’re happy and comfortable here. He and his brothers may be demons, but they aren’t heartless. They were once angels too. He goes through the process with you, if you were shaky or unsure of what to do in the past. If you want HRT, surgery, need a new wardrobe, he and his brothers will be the first to provide. Whatever to keep you happy in your skin.

Mammon

Oh. Honestly speaking, he’ll still love you regardless of what form your body takes. He liked the way you looked, but secretly he can’t wait to see how you’ll look after you transition.

Before we even get to that point though, it takes a lot of hint dropping for him to get it. And even then, he has to go and ask the others what you’re trying to tell him. Of course he gets picked on a little bit for it, but once he figures it out he’s really happy you were comfortable enough to tell him.

Hell, he might get a job just so he can help you be able to afford all the things you’ll need to properly transition. Some of the details make him blush quite a bit, and if you’re uncomfortable with touches or any signs of affection during your process of transitioning, he will politely refrain from making his human uncomfortable.

He’s taking you to Majolish and you are going to get your ENTIRE wardrobe redone. Courtesy of The GREAT Mammon! You should feel grateful that he’s working this hard to make you happy. I mean c’mon, he LOVES you! He can’t wait to love you more after you’ve become the man you always were deep down inside.

Leviathan

He does notice that you act different from other women. Not that he minds it, not at all. His Henry is still the same old Henry. Just a little bit different. He’s a little bit different too, there’s nothing wrong with that. Right?!

It’s when you start preferring to be called Henry as opposed to your birth name, do the cogs start churning in his brain. He would have suspected at first that maybe you just were very good friends with him and loved TSL almost as much as him.

He’s seen a few heart-warming anime about it. Specifically one about a girl becoming a boy, and the struggles he went through while attending school. The title wasn’t too important to him, but now that he had a reference for what you were dealing with, he was a bit happy. He just wanted to wait until the moment was right to bring it up to you. Perhaps his Henry was really a Henry after all!

When the moment comes, he’s proud to say the least. He throws his arms around you happily, and promises to be there by your side every step of the way. He’s not exactly rolling in money, but an Otaku finds a way. The Lord of Shadows is your best friend ever, and he can’t wait to see the before and after pictures of your full transition!

Satan

It started with a book you read with him. He didn’t fully comprehend your situation, but he knew you didn’t act like normal girls. It reminded him of a character in a book he read a few weeks ago. The guy didn’t really act like a girl.

While sweet and thoughtful, this character didn’t hit the nail on the head in some ways. When talking over the book with you, you explained just as much to him. The energy was there, but it was backwards for you. He picked up on it immediately.

So what you’re telling me is, you understand this characters struggle with themselves, and can relate to it. But something about it is backwards? A little smile appears on his face as it fully dawns on him. MC, I think I’ll be able to assist you in any way you need.

With Satan’s wonderful connections across the entire Devildom, it wasn’t long before you were getting some of the best treatment possible. The prices seemed a bit scary, but he assured you everything was being taken care of behind the scenes. If you needed to worry about anything, it would be the tiring, long process to come with transitioning. He’ll be sure it goes relatively smoothly for you, though!

Asmodeus

Oh he gets it immediately. Darling why didn’t you just say so in the first place?

He’s dragging you back to your room, rambling the entire time about how he can’t wait to take you out and go shopping. He puts together a devious little page to gather up donations and the like to support your transitioning. His fans would be HONORED to pitch in, right?

In the mean time, he stops pampering you with makeup and his other routines that you used to tolerate for the sake of being cordial. He still pushes for the nail polish, since gender is simply a social concept and he’s ready to crush it into dust any chance he can get. But it’s not about him, it’s about you.

Soon your room is painted a new color, your dresses and skirts and frilly outfits are tossed out for more appropriate attire for your sex, and he’s taking photos for his Devilgram page to show everyone how beautiful you are, even while going through the long process!

Beelzebub

You and Beel got along fabulously. He seemed astonished that a female was interested in all these manly habits he indulged in. He heard from some of the guys on his team that you were interested in playing Fangol. As evidenced by how you always showed up to his practices and games, no matter if they were home or away.

He figured you were just a really big fan of sports. But then you even started working out with him, and giving him suggestions and tips on how to get even more out of his workouts at the gym. You were really passionate about this.

Let’s not kid ourselves, he probably does not pick up on any of the signs. You have tot ell him, and you have to tell him firmly. You are a man, just like him. When you do tell him, however, he’s eager to help you transition. Imagine having another guy in the house who loves Fangol as much as you do!?

He isn’t much aside from emotional support through the transitions, and he coddles you when you have those bad days. If you want to eat something, he’ll rush to the kitchen and cook you a full meal before you move an inch. You’re allowed to lay in bed today. Let him handle the heavy load of work for you.

Belphegor

Oh wow, look at that. He picked it up almost immediately.

I mean, there’s no way a girl would act the way you do, right? Dress the way you do. Be the way you are. He doesn’t care though, and just wants you to be happy. If that means you transition into a man, then hell, he’s on board with you.

He may be a lazy bastard, but he knows when it’s time to get up and work hard to get something. That was what he was like as an angel, anyways. Working at Hell’s Kitchen is the worst, and you hear him complain about as much, but he smiles and assures you that it’s all for a good reason.

His final gift to you to apologize about the Incident, is money. Now at first glance it seems like something Mammon would do. Probably. In reality though, this is the money that will be going towards your HRT. He doesn’t know if you want to fully transition or not, but if you want that top surgery, he can help pay for that too. He’ll do anything to make sure you’re happy and healthy in your own body.

Diavolo

It really is a house of men, isn’t it?

He’s glad though, truly, that you were comfortable coming to him about it. Don’t bother ever opening your wallet to pay for any therapy, medication, or surgery. As the Prince of the Devildom, he would be more than happy to get you doctors of all sorts to help you. No questions asked!

It might be a bit overwhelming at first, but the news is exciting. If the Prince accepts you so readily, it gives you hope that other demons will as well. Pretty soon you’re going through your processes, and Diavolo couldn’t be happier to see it happening.

You really is a wonderful guy, and he’s glad he’s getting to experience the changes you take in your life.

Barbatos

To say he didn’t suspect this would be an understatement.

Ever silent and respectful though, he never spoke a word of it. You are probably uncomfortable with people assuming it, even though it’s true. An insecurity that humans seem to deal with, although unfortunate.

However, when the news is broken during a meeting between you, Lucifer, he, and the Prince himself, a smile creeps on his face.

He’s happy to hear that you are so comfortable speaking about this sort of thing. He knows it must be tough, having hidden your true feelings for so long. He prepares a delicious tea with small treats, to celebrate your coming out, and transitioning.

Simeon (and Luke)

Oh dear. God loves you, still. Don’t worry about this. He doesn’t see you as an imperfection.

They assures you constantly that you have their full support, and that will never change. You are not broken, you are not unwanted, and you are not strange. You are a regular trans man in their eyes, and they will defend you on that.

Simeon almost takes on a fatherly role to you, wanting to make sure everything goes as smooth as possible. He probably has done a bit of research in preparations for your transition, and all the nasty little side effects that come with it are worrying him.

However, once it’s all over, Luke and Simeon are glad you came out on top. And my, what a handsome man you make!

Solomon

He figured, but didn’t want to assume. I mean, who the hell is he?

He’s got a few spells for this though, make it quick and painless. One wave of a wand and POOF! Woman no more!

Oh but that’s probably dangerous. The shifty bastard. You would much rather do it the regular way; and not have your insides and outsides shifted around by some crazy sorcerer.

He doesn’t protest much, but that does suck. Hehe. Oh well. You can count on him to support you through it all!

#obey me #om!#obey me headcanons #obey me swd #obey me shall we date #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos #obey me simeon #obey me luke #obey me solomon

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dem-obscure-imagines · 4 years

Text

Stuck with Me

George Weasley x Reader

Fandom: Harry Potter

Note: As always, Fuck J.K. Rowling. Trans rights are human rights.

This fic is kinda based on the abilities I’ve scripted for my DR. I still haven’t shifted yet, but I know I’m getting close. I’ll keep y’all posted…

Warnings: SPOILERS FOR DEATHLY HALLOWS!! George’s injury from Deathly Hallows…

Word Count: 3k

“Where is he?” You asked, eyes wide as you rushed into the Burrow. You could feel it. George was hurt. “Where’s George?”

You walked further inside and spotted him laying on the couch, blood dripping from the wound on his face. Fred was kneeling in front of him, Molly stroking his hair. When he spotted you, his gaze softened.

Tears welled up in your eyes and you let out a choked sob.

“I’m alright, love.” He protested softly.

Fred moved over the tiniest bit, giving you room, but also wanting to stay close to his brother.

You leaned in so your face was close to his and whispered. “I think you’re forgetting that I can feel your pain.”

He chuckled bitterly. “Right. I’m so sorry—”

“Don’t be.” You shook your head. “I’m here to fix it.”

***

George had found out about your powers during third year. He’d fallen off of his broom during Quidditch, and as a result, he’d broken his arm. You weren’t sure why, but you were…tied to him, in a way. It wasn’t like that with anyone else, not even Fred. But whenever George Weasley felt pain, you did too. It had been that way since you first locked eyes at the train station first year.

So, in the middle of the night, you snuck down to the infirmary, where he was sleeping for the next few days. He wasn’t asleep. The pain was keeping him up. When he saw you walking towards his cot, he raised an eyebrow.

“What are you doing here?”

“I, uh…I have something that can help. But you have to keep it a secret.”

“A secret?”

You nodded seriously and approached him slowly. “You can’t even tell Fred.”

“Wow, that’s serious.” George thought. “But if it’ll make the pain go away, then…I promise I’ll keep it a secret.”

You knew it was a big promise. He told Fred everything. But you knew, looking into his eyes, that he meant it.

So, you sat on the edge of the cot and raised your hand. George watched in awe as your palm glowed yellow. You held it above his broken arm, and even inside his cast, he could feel the bone mending itself even faster than Madame Pomfrey’s magic could ever work. His pain dissipated, and a few seconds later, he felt completely normal again.

Relief rushed through you as the pain left you, too.

“H-how did you—?"

You waved your wand and the cast popped off of his arm. He stretched it out, wiggling his fingers and moving it around.

“It’s a family thing.” You shrugged. “It skips a few generations, usually.”

He grinned at you, stars in his eyes, and whispered, “Wicked.”

***

It was your fifth year now. You were good friends with the twins, you had been since first year, so it wasn’t all that uncommon for you to go to Hogsmeade with them over the weekends. They let you in on their pranks, and every once in a while, they’d pull one on you, but it was all in good fun.

George never really knew why you always seemed to know when he was hurt. Whether it was a bruise or a papercut, you’d always make a beeline to him and ask to “talk” privately. Fred was convinced the two of you were hooking up, but really, you’d just hold your hands over his injuries for a few seconds until the cuts closed up or the bruises faded to nothing.

And so, because he was so curious about exactly why you were so attached to his injuries, aside from being a healer, of course, he decided to…well, to ask you.

“Hey, (Y/N)?”

“Yes, Georgie?” You turned the page of the book you were reading.

His face lit up. He was always pleasantly surprised when you were able to tell them apart without even looking at them. Almost anyone else couldn’t tell them apart after staring at them for five minutes, but you didn’t even have to look up from your book to know he was George.

His eyebrow raised and he smirked mischievously. “How do you know I’m not Fred?”

“Because you’re not.” You laughed. “Next question.”

“Fair enough.” He chuckled and sat on the couch next to you. “I was wondering if you wanted to go to Hogsmeade this weekend.”

“With you and Fred? Sure.”

“Oh…well, no, I just meant…you and I?”

You closed your book and looked up at him, a smirk pulled across your features. “Like a date?”

He thought on it for a second before nodding, “Yeah, as a date.” He smiled softly and then added, “I didn’t think it was any secret I fancy you.”

“Well that’s good.” You leaned over and kissed his cheek, causing his face to flush adorably red. “I fancy you too, Weasley.”

***

When the weekend finally hit, George met you in the common room, all bundled up for Hogsmeade. You went over together, and at some point, George wrapped a large gloved hand around yours. You gave it a reassuring squeeze and he squeezed back.

The two of you got some butterbeer and settled into the Three Broomsticks. It was quiet enough that George felt he could ask what he wanted to in privacy, so he did.

“Why is it always me?” He asked.

You raised an eyebrow and asked, “What do you mean?”

“It’s always me you heal. Why?”

Your cheeks burned. “I honestly…” You sighed. “George, when you’re hurt, I feel your pain. I don’t mean that figuratively, like, I literally feel your pain. When you get hurt in Quidditch, I feel it. When you get burns from fireworks, I feel it…It’s just easier for me to find you and fix it as soon as I can.”

“That makes sense.” He nodded. “Is it like that with Fred, too?”

“No.” You replied. You smiled softly at him. “Just you, Georgie.”

He smiled back. “How long has it been like this?”

“Since we met on the train platform first year. Fred stepped on your foot on accident. At first I thought it was a coincidence, but the evidence kept piling up, and when you broke your arm third year, I couldn’t ignore it anymore.” You took a sip of your butterbeer. “When my parents found out I’d gotten the family gift, they told me I couldn’t tell anyone because…well, people would use me because of it, but I don’t think they expected me to get attached to someone like this.”

“So what you’re saying is, you’re stuck with me, then.” He smirked.

You gave him a playful little shove, laughing. “Real shame that is.”

He stared at you for a while, his eyes drifting down from yours, and then, very gently, he leaned in and captured your lips with his. You reciprocated immediately, a hand rising to caress his cheek. You got lost in his careful touches, the softness of his lips, the warmth of his breaths ghosting across your cheeks.

“About damn time!” You were interrupted by none other than George’s twin.

The two of you pulled apart guiltily and looked up at him. Lee was standing next to him and handed Fred a few sickles, cursing under his breath.

You waved shyly. “Hi, Fred.”

“Oh don’t mind us. Just here to get butterbeer. Carry on with your snogging.”

“Will do, mate.” George saluted him, watching as they walked out the front door, leaving you in peace once again. He turned to you, mischief written all over his handsome features. “Well, (Y/N), would you like to carry on with our snogging?”

You pressed your lips to his boldly. His hands gripped your waist and tugged you closer. Between kisses, you murmured, “Hell yes.”

***

Your sixth year was quite an adventure to say the very least. With the Triwizard tournament going on, everyone was buzzing with excitement. All of the visiting students were really nice, and the tournament itself was really exciting.

When the Yule ball was announced, you already had the perfect dress in mind, and while you and George were dating and had been since the previous year, he hadn’t officially asked you yet. Well, until breakfast one seemingly uneventful morning. You were sitting in your usual spot, beside George and across from Hermione when all of a sudden, George stood up. You looked at him, confused.

And then he started shouting, “Attention all Hogwarts and Durmstrang students, I’ve caught you looking at my lovely girlfriend, (Y/N) (L/N) since the ball was announced! This is an official announcement that she will be attending the ball with me, her boyfriend! That is all!” He promptly sat back down.

“Oh I will, will I?” You chuckled, looping your arm through one of his.

“Well, you…you will, won’t you?” His confident expression softened.

You leaned up and pressed a quick kiss to his lips. “Yes, George, I will.”

“Brilliant.” He replied, taking his arm from yours and wrapping it around your shoulders instead. “So what color is your dress, love? I want us to match.”

George met you at the ball, a pink tie wrapped around his neck to match the gorgeous pink silk of the skirt of your ballgown. When he spotted you coming down the stairs with the other girls you’d gotten ready with, his breath hitched and he swore there was something caught in his throat.

“You look so beautiful…” He whispered as soon as you were standing in front of him.

“You clean up nice yourself, Weasley.” You stood on your toes and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “You ready for this?”

“Oh love, I already spiked the punch.” He wrapped his arms around you, kissing you deeply. “It’s gonna be a great night.”

And it was. You danced the night away in the arms of the man you loved, blissfully unaware that things were soon going to take a change for the worse.

***

Voldemort had returned, and as a result, Dumbridge was ruling the school with her iron fist. Worst of all was the punishments she inflicted. The first time you were made aware of it was when George and Fred had gotten detention for one of their pranks. You were somewhat used to your boyfriend and his brother winding up in detention for their schemes. What you were not used to was a searing pain across the back of your hand, like something was being carved into it with a blade.

As soon as his detention was over, you found George and rushed up to him, grabbing his left hand and staring at the letters carved into it. They read: I will not pull pranks.

“What did she do to you?”

“I’m so sorry, love.” He took you into his arms, stroking through your hair. He was shaking, and when you pulled apart, there were tears in his eyes. “I didn’t know…”

“It’s not your fault.” You shook your head and held your palm over the back of his hand, the gentle glow of your magic quickly erasing the marks, not even leaving a scar in their place. “See? All better.” You kissed the back of his hand. Then, you sobered up, realizing George hadn’t gone through it alone. “Where’s Fred?”

“Right here.” He replied, walking into the common room next. It was empty aside from the three of you.

You looked up towards the stairs, but when you didn’t hear anyone coming, you walked up to Fred. “Give me your hand.”

“You’re dating my brother.” He looked at you, confused.

You rolled your eyes. “Not like that.”

“Give her your hand, Freddie.” George encouraged, holding up his now-healed hand, free of the marks that had been there less than a minute before. He was surprised you were showing Fred your secret after all of the time you’d been holding it in, but George wouldn’t have had an explanation as to why his marks had faded so fast.

Fred’s eyes widened in realization and he held out his injured hand.

You lit your palm with magic and held it above his cuts, watching as they shrank into nonexistence.

“And how long have you been able to do that?”

“A while?” You shrugged, shoving your hands in your pockets.

“Did you know?” He looked at George, who nodded, a guilty look on his face. “For how long?”

“Third year…” George murmured.

“THIRD YEAR?! Bloody hell…” Fred shook his head, chuckling. “Well, actually, that makes a lot of sense. Explains a lot, for sure. And here, I thought you two had just been hooking up this whole time.”

“I’m gonna pretend I didn’t hear that.” You laughed, walking back to George, who pulled you to his chest as soon as you were close enough.

His long fingers stroked through your hair and you exhaled a long sigh, glad to be in his arms. He pressed a long kiss to your forehead before whispering, “Thank you, love.”

“Of course. We’re in this together.”

***

A few weeks later, you were walking the saddened halls of Hogwarts when you found the twins sitting on a bench beside a crying Nigel. They were talking to him softly, trying to soothe his tears. When George looked up and spotted you, relief flooded his features.

As soon as Umbridge stepped back out of the hallway, you made your way over and knelt down in front of him.

“Nigel, this is my girlfriend. Her name is (Y/N).”

“Hi Nigel,” you spoke softly, smiling up at the crying child. “I know it hurts, but I can make it stop hurting. Can you keep a secret for me?”

He nodded, sniffling.

“Here, give me your hand.” You held out your left hand, and Nigel put the injured one in it. You knew Harry was standing just behind you, but you didn’t care. It was your seventh year, there was about to be another wizarding war. In times like these, people needed people like you, and you were glad to help in any way you could. You lit your palm with magic and gently soothed away the angry marks littering Nigel’s little hand. “See? All better. If this happens again, you can come find me. I’m usually in the common room reading. Alright?”

“Thank you.” He sniffled.

George stared at you, a lovesick look on his handsome face. “Thank you.” He repeated, beyond grateful you’d found him when you did. “Thank you so much for doing that, love.”

“Of course.” You nodded. “Us Gryffindors have gotta stick together.”

“Speaking of that, actually…” Fred trailed off, giving George a nudge.

Nigel started walking back to the common room, and so the rest of you all headed off in that direction. George and Fred explained their plan to you, and you listened, nodding. When you finally got back to the common room, it was empty. So, George turned to you and took both of your hands in his.

“You’re welcome to come with us, love.” He spoke softly, a million stars in his eyes. “We’d love to have you at the shop with us.” Then, he added softly. “And I’ll miss you loads…”

“I do want to come, but…” you glanced up the stairs after Nigel. There were so many other kids like him who didn’t deserve Umbridge’s torture, and you could make it better.

“But you need to be here.” George finished, nodding. “I understand.” He cupped your cheeks and leaned down, pressing his lips to yours. “I’ll see you at the end of the school year, then.”

“You better be at the train station to pick me up.” You told him, tears welling in your eyes at the thought of being separated from him, even if it was only for a little while.

“I will be.” He promised. Then, he chuckled and added, “I’ll try not to get too hurt in your absence.” Then, even softer, he added, “And I’ll write you every day until you’re in my arms again.”

***

It had been a long road, but eventually, it led you to kneeling down in front of the couch at the Burrow, George’s head bleeding badly. You raised your hand to heal him, but he grabbed your wrist, stopping you with a pained look in his eye.

“But love, your secret…”

“I don’t care.” You shook your head, tears in your eyes. “I care about you more than any stupid secret.” You lit your palm and held it above his head, watching as the gash closed and the blood dissipated. The stinging pain in your head faded, too, leaving you feeling normal again. “I love you, George. More than anything in this world.”

The rest of the Burrow watched in awe, all of them but Fred unaware that you’d been patching up their boy since you were thirteen.

Instead of responding to you, he sat up and pressed his lips to yours, his large hands framing your face. When you finally parted, he rested his forehead against yours and whispered, “Marry me.”

Molly squeaked, a giant smile on her face.

“W-what?” You asked, breath hitching. You stared at him, waiting for him to say it again.

“I-I don’t have a ring or anything, but…” He locked his eyes on yours. “Marry me. I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

A tear slipped down your cheek and you nodded, pulling him in for a wet, emotional kiss. “Yes, George. Yes, of course I will marry you.”

He gasped and pulled you to his chest, tears of joy fogging up his vision. Then, he whispered into your hair, “You’re stuck with me, (L/N).”

You chuckled and replied softly, “Gee, real shame that is.”

#george weasley #george weasley x reader #george weasley imagine #george #george x reader #george imagine #harry potter #harry potter imagine #hp #hp imagine

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bottomlouisficfest · 3 years

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We hope you’ve enjoyed the third week of fics from the Bottom Louis Fic Fest! Every weekend, we’re compiling all of the fics from that week into one roundup post so they’re easy to find for anyone looking to catch up on fics they missed. Enjoy these amazing fics and give them the love they deserve!

Across the Grey, Salty Sea

A fic by thecheshirepussycat on AO3 | @the-cheshire-pussy-cat on Tumblr | Bee_With_Mee on Twitter

19k | Explicit | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post

Prompt 212: Alex from Dunkirk and French escort/prostitute Louis who ends up in Alex’s quarters more nights than not. Alex gives him his dog tag to wear maybe just a lot of smut and dirty talk with Louis being a pretty princess.

When Our Worlds They Fall Apart

A fic by edensrose on AO3 | @holdingthornsandroses on Tumblr | thetrashpigeon on Twitter

42k | Explicit | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post

Harry put his hand over his heart as if Louis had wounded him. “You’re so harsh, my liege! Perhaps you need to relieve some tension…” He let his voice trail off suggestively.

“The day I ask YOU to relieve tension is the day I lose all my wits and join the Imperials,” Louis said. “It will never happen.”

Written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest 2020- Prompt 325: Star Wars AU with Harry as Han Solo and Louis as Leia.

Thank you, five.

A fic by nouies on AO3 | @nouies on Tumblr | _nouies on Twitter

5k | Explicit | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post

“Harry?” He says as soon as he recognises the other man.

“Louis? Wh-what are you doing here?” Harry asks with a frown.

“Well, I’m here for rehearsal,” Louis announces with a proud smile.

There’s a flash of confusion on Harry’s face. “What do you mean rehearsal? I got the part, you didn’t.”

Prompt 195: Hamilton AU

Know I Think You're Awesome, Right?

A fic by princesshalo on AO3 | @princesshalo on Tumblr | tpwkorra on Twitter

60k | Explicit | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post

“Well, that’s not very Treat People With Kindness of you.”

“Neither is approaching someone with the sole intent of criticizing a cause they’re clearly passionate about, given the amount of time they’ve dedicated to advocating for it,” Louis snaps.

“Sure, but I’m not the one with the button,” Harry shrugs.

“So, is there actually something I can help you with, or did you just come to push me into pepper spraying you as well?” Louis is quickly growing impatient. Hell, he was impatient the moment that Harry made his grand entrance on campus yesterday.

“I’m just trying to assess the environment here,” Harry says, “Because if this is all you’ve got to offer trans people who just want to be able to use the bathroom in peace like the rest of us, then I’m not sure I fit in.”

“Allow me to save you the trouble, then: you don’t.”

Based on the prompt: a college AU where Louis is a hippie, very good vibes activist and Harry is a punk, anarchist that always gets involved in violent protests.

show you the stars in daylight

A fic by bruisedhoney on AO3 | @yvesaintlourent on Tumblr | bruisedhoney on Twitter

13k | Explicit | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post

Louis laughed, the sound loud and borderline obnoxious. Harry winced. “Are you kidding, Haz? I wouldn’t even look twice at someone that couldn’t pick me up.”

And, well. That was new information to Harry. It’s not like Louis had ever mentioned to him that he was his type in any way, shape, or form. Harry shifted closer into the space between Louis’s legs, even more intrigued than before. “Why not?” he asked curiously, all pink lips and big curls. Louis smiled.

“Tiny, innocent, little Harold. Need someone that can pick me up, don’t I? I like being tossed around a little. You know, pinned down and made to take it. Lifted up like I’m nothing,” Louis said it all with a confident smile, his sharp little teeth tugging at his bottom lip as he locked eyes with the jock across the kitchen. “Think he might come over here. Move over. I don’t want him to think we’re together.”

Or, the one where Louis has a type and at sixteen and scrawy, it's definitely not his best friend's little brother Harry...ten years later, he changes his mind.

Freeway of Love (In a Pink Cadillac)

A fic by MsHydeStylinson on AO3 | @mizzhydes on Tumblr | MsHydeStylinson on Twitter

33k | Explicit | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post

“Did you like them?” Louis asked in a seductive tone, propping his elbow against the armrest, chin resting against his fingers.

“I’m not going to answer that,” Harry informed, lips pressed in a hard line.

“I don’t think you have to,” Louis smirked nodding slightly towards his telltale bulge and watched as Harry reddened from his neck to his forehead in a flash.

”Please, I beg you to put that phone away,” Harry pleaded with a suffering expression plastered on his face.

“Please…” Harry whined.

Or,

Louis was on his way to Miami to visit an old friend. Harry was going there for a little R&R and take in the sights and sounds. A sudden upgrade in seating brought these polar opposites together. The universe works in mysterious ways and they are unknowingly about to embark on an adventure they will surely remember for a lifetime.

Prompt 107: Sugar daddy AU inspired by this tweet: “going to sit next to the richest looking middle aged man on my flight and scroll through my nudes for three hours straight” with rich daddy Harry and bratty baby Louis.

Won't Keep You My (Dirty Little) Secret

A fic by lovelykits on AO3 | @lovelykits on Tumblr

16k | Mature | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post

“I got asked out today,” Louis comments.

“Okay,” Harry shifts.

“Did you hear me? I said I got asked out.”

"You always get asked out.”

“Yeah well this time they didn’t believe I had a boyfriend!”

Or Louis and Harry have been together since the end of last year and somehow no one knows about it.

A Place With Skeletons

A fic by whoknows on AO3 | @crazyupsetter on Tumblr

50k | Explicit | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post

“I would choose anyone other than you,” Louis says, picking up his train of thought again. He feels a lot more cornered and defensive when they’re in Harry’s house, for some reason. It doesn’t really make sense, considering that this time, Louis was the one who couldn’t hack it any longer. He broke first. There’s something about being in Harry’s space, though, the green and earthy feeling of it. It should feel like open space with all the plants, but Louis has never felt more claustrophobic than he does when he’s here.

Harry’s chest moves against his back, a sharp intake of air. Before he can open his mouth to defend himself, Louis keeps going, “If I had a choice in any of this, I would have been saved by that elderly security guard over you. I wouldn’t mind having to have the occasional cuddle with her.”

View the other roundup posts here:

Week #1 Fic Roundup

Week #2 Fic Roundup

#fics 2020

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keanureevesisbae · 4 years

Text

Mister Cavill, your dog is kinda fat - Chapter 1

Summary: Veterinarian Olivia Tran has zero time for bullshit. After becoming a mom at age twenty three, the one thing she wants is a good life for her daughter Vanessa. Her ex didn’t want anything to do with her nor the baby and she decided that man are officially banned out of her life. But then she meets Henry Cavill at her clinic and her ban slowly starts to crumble apart. Henry on the other hand is looking for one thing: a family. And when he meets Olivia Tran, he finds just that.

Henry Cavill x Olivia Tran (ofc)

Warnings: None

Wordcount: 2.4k

A/N: The beginnings of a new fic! It’s kind of a build up, so there isn’t a lot of Henry Cavill inthis chapter, but the next one is from his pov and more than 4.5k. I hope you like this new story 🤗

Masterlist // Next chapter

For fuck’s sake, I can still smell the fluids from those anal glands I have been popping all day. Even when you wear gloves every single time, that penetrating smell will just stay with you.

After a long day at the clinic, I can finally call it a day. Of course, I’m on call tonight, but other than that, I can relax now. Working as a vet has always been a dream of mine and now, at the ripe age of twenty nine, I have managed to become doctor Olivia Tran, one of the loved veterinarians here.

‘See you tomorrow, Belle,’ I yell to my best friend and other veterinarian at this clinic.

‘You on call tonight?’ Belle asks.

‘I am.’

‘If you need to go, I can’t watch Vanessa tonight,’ she tells me, while she is checking the ears of a pug, who seems to have severe breathing problems from the looks of it. ‘I have a date.’

‘No worries,’ I say to her with a smile. ‘I probably don’t need to go anyways. Hasn’t happened in the past months, so I highly doubt that something will change tonight. Please let me know how your date went tomorrow.’

Belle, the gorgeous brunette with legs for days and blue eyes as big as Rapunzel, flashes me a bright smile. ‘Of course, dear. Give Vanessa a big kiss for me, will you?’

‘Will do.’ I walk out of the clinic, give a sweet Jack Russell a scratch behind his ear and check my watch. I have twenty minutes before I have to pick up Vanessa, but it’s a fifteen minute walk if I hurry and if I just stroll around, it’s twenty minutes. Can I manage to buy myself some cookies or should I wait after I picked her up?

I think I would have a very happy six year old if I waited with the cookies after I picked her up from school.

I bury my hands in the pockets of my coat. Yesterday it was official: the summer has passed and autumn is here. I always love it when I see the green leaves slowly turning orange or brown and cover the pavement with a blanket of crunchy leaves. It’s Vanessa’s favorite season as well, but that’s mostly because it’s her birthday on November 12th.

I never planned on becoming a mother at twenty three. I never really gave it a big thought, the idea of having kids. In the far far far future I might’ve become one, but I always thought I had more cool aunt potential.

The day I found out I was pregnant, I was scared, but since I was in a pretty serious relationship with Wesley for almost three years, the man I thought I’d end up marrying, I figured we would make this work. We would marry, have this kid and live happily ever after, maybe even have a few more.

But Wesley broke up with me when I told him about the pregnancy and that I was going to keep the baby. I went to my parents for comfort, thinking that they and my two brothers would be supportive of this. We got through the time that I was partying all night, getting tattoos and smoked some weed out of my window. I mean, we would be able to handle this right?

But my parents kicked me out when I told them I was pregnant and I was going to keep the baby. ‘But what about your degree?’ I can still hear my mother say those words, but what was maybe the worst thing, was seeing my brothers turning their backs to me. Their literal backs towards me. ‘You worked so hard and you just got a job as a vet,’ my mom began to yell.

To be fair, I was their only hope. My brothers dropped out of high school and are now sort of working in construction, but they can hardly finish a job ever. My mother never worked a day in her life and my father was a lawyer. I told them that I could work something out, with a bit of help of them, but my mother just pushed me out of their house and told me to never bother them again, if I was going to have a kid out of wedlock.

So I had to do it by myself. I had to find a place for me and the baby to stay, but thankfully Belle was already working at the vet and decided that I needed a bit of help. I could stay with her, even after the baby was born. Belle went with me to the ultrasounds and when I went into labor, she was right there with me.

Belle is Vanessa’s one and only aunt and my best friend. When you get pregnant and not only your boyfriend leaves, your family disappears out of your life, you also notice how many people despise you. My friends from college all of the sudden seemed to have fallen off the earth and never checked in with me.

Now I have a happy six year old, a nice home for the two of us and a baby sitter Belle, who is becoming less and less available, since she has discovered the world of Tinder, because she wants a boyfriend.

I hear the bell ring when I step onto the schoolyard. It doesn’t take long before I see my daughter running towards me. Her baby blue coat is hanging open, her backpack in her hand and a rolled paper in the other. She insisted on wearing her boots to school today, but leave it to her to cover them in mud.

Entirely.

I catch her when she jumps in my arms. ‘I missed you, my lovely lady,’ I say to her.

Vanessa peppers my face with kisses, something she always does when I pick her up from school. I brush the hairs out of her face, including the sweet bangs that she insisted on having. Originally she wanted the same haircut as me from when I was the same age as her, but since I have severe traumas of the bowl cut, I had to spare her that and opt for some sweet thin bangs.

‘Mommy,’ she says, ‘I missed you a lot.’

‘Well, you want to go to the store, so we can buy some cookies?’ I ask her. ‘And maybe tonight we can order a pizza.’

‘Yes, yes, yes!’ She gives me a tight hug.

Sometimes I doubt my parenting skills, especially when I look around the schoolyard. I watch those mothers who are housewives, with very handsome husbands and kids that always look formidable and put together and probably only eat fatty snacks on their birthdays. Sometimes I wished I had that: a husband, a man that Vanessa could look up to.

I figured that when my ex Wesley couldn’t provide that, my brothers and father would step in and treat my daughter like they treated me: a princess.

Now I have to do that myself.

It can be tiring, being both the mother and the father for Vanessa, but if I could turn back time, I’d do it all over again.

With Vanessa’s tiny hand in mine, we walk towards the store, to buy some cookies that I desperately craved the entire day I was at work.

Vanessa looks a lot like me. She’s basically my clone. People often stop us, simply to tell us that Vanessa is like a miniature version of me. I always like compliments about my daughter. I mean, she is my world.

When we arrive at home, I help her change into something more comfy. ‘Mommy, can we please have a pajama night?’ Vanessa asks, while I help her out of her dress.

‘It’s four in the afternoon,’ I say, knowing exactly what she wants. ‘You want to wait two hours before you wear your pajamas?’

Vanessa shakes her head. ‘No, I want to wear my pjs now.’ Her bright smile nearly lights up the room. I watch her nose scrunch up as the corners of her mouth curl up, the only trait that she inherited from her biological father. ‘Are you going to wear yours too?’

I don’t have anywhere to go and besides, after all popping all those anal glands today, I desperately want to get out of these clothes. ‘Yes, sweetie, I’m going to wear mine too, but first I’m going to take a shower.’

‘No bath, mommy? Because I like baths.’ Her dark brown eyes start to gleam with enthusiasm. ‘Please, mommy, please.’ She pouts, knowing damn well I can’t say no to that.

≫≫≪≪

The second Vanessa is in bed, I have some time for myself. I love every second we get to spend together, but it’s nice to have a breather every now and then. I stare at my arms, to see how Vanessa has colored in my tattoos. She’s obsessed with them and when she’s in school, she sometimes tries to draw them on her own arms by memory, sometimes even drawing on others when they want to. A few weeks ago, her teacher asked her what she wanted to be when she grew up. ‘Well, I want to be two things,’ Vanessa told her. ‘Like my mommy I want to be a vet, because I love animals, but I also want to draw tattoos on people.’

I sit up straight, looking at the drawing she made me today in school. She always makes drawings for me, but they are always the same. She draws a house, with me in it and herself. And outside she draws a dog and a man, with suitcases and moving boxes next to them. ‘Because,’ she explains every single time, ‘one day you meet a nice man who has a dog and he can become my new daddy. A daddy that does want me.’

Belle didn’t agree on me telling Vanessa her real dad didn’t want her, but I figured she needed to know the truth. Her biological father is a low life that disappeared into thin air and didn’t want to be involved in her life.

Vanessa understood, to the extent that was possible, but she really wants a dad, preferably one with a dog. Though she keeps pushing me, I can’t start dating again. Vanessa is the most important person in the world and men simply don’t fit into this—in my head—perfect picture. Vanessa is my life and men are big fat losers, so I don’t need them. I don’t want them, because the chance of them getting tired of maybe me, maybe Vanessa and leaving, is something I can’t risk.

Vanessa already lost her real father, what if a man that becomes really important to her, leaves too?

At around eleven I drag myself to bed, placing my work phone beside me. I hate being on call, but like I told Belle, I didn’t have a call in months, so I think I’m good.

I’m dreaming about Keanu Reeves (the only man on earth that I’d break my no man ban for) and how he takes me out on a lovely date, has Vanessa on his lap and helps her to cut her food, when the phone starts to ring.

‘Are you fucking kidding me?’ I mutter, before I click on my nightlight. It’s three in the fucking morning. I don’t want this. ‘Animal Clinic Westside, doctor Olivia Tran, how may I help you?’ I say when I pick up the phone.

‘Hello, I’m terribly sorry for calling at this hour, but my dog is vomiting and I see some blood in it.’ Oh, poor man, he sounds so panicked. ‘He collapsed and is breathing really heavily and I don’t know what to do.’

I sit up straight in bed and rub my eyes, as I try to be as alert as I can on this early morning. ‘Sir, it’s okay. Did your dog eat anything out of the ordinary today?’

‘Not that I know of.’

‘You think it’s possible for you to come to the clinic? I’d like to see the dog.’

‘Of course, of course.’ The man on the other side of the line has such a lovely and deep voice. He could become a voice actor or a narrator like Morgan Freeman. If liquid gold had a voice, it would sound like this.

‘I hope it’s not too much to ask, but could you take some of the vomit with you? Especially the part with some blood. I’d like to check it.’

‘I’ll bring it with me, of course.’

‘What kind of breed is your dog, sir?’ I ask, while writing it all down on a piece of paper.

‘An American Akita. His name is Kal.’

I don’t think he ever went to our clinic, I think to myself.

‘I’ll be at the clinic in about forty minutes, mister…’ I say, hoping that this man will say his name.

‘Cavill,’ he quickly says. ‘And I can be at the clinic in about an hour.’

That name does sound kind of familiar though, but I could’ve sworn that this man isn’t in our database. Maybe I went to college with him or to high school?

After we hang up the phone, I quickly get out of bed. I opt for a pair of tight fitted black leggings and an oversized sweater (after I put on a bra, because who knows mister Cavill is handsome and my nipples don’t want to keep that a secret) and I slip on some white sneakers. I put my hair into a bun. I freeze when I’m moisturizing my face.

I kind of forgot I had a daughter. I don’t like the idea of bringing Vanessa with me, especially since it’s three in the morning and she’s asleep, but then I realize that tomorrow it’s Saturday. Plenty of time for her to catch up on her sleep and plenty of time for me to feel less guilty about dragging her out of her dreams.

‘Sweetie,’ I whisper, when I gently wake her up. ‘Mommy has to go to the clinic, but you can’t stay at aunt Belle tonight, so you’re going with me to work.’

Vanessa was a groggy mess when I nudged her awake, but when she realizes she can go with me to work, her eyes light up. ‘Really?’

‘Yes, someone has a sick doggy, that needs to be taken care of.’

She gets up out of her bed and I help her with her socks, though she is perfectly capable of doing so herself. ‘You’re gonna save a doggy?’ Vanessa asks.

‘I’m going to try.’

I hand her a thick vest and while she puts it on, she says: ‘You’re a hero, mommy.’

With a smile on my face, I softly pinch her cheek. ‘I guess I am.’

Taglist: @thelastsock // @flhorah // @sausagefest1996 // @laufeysodinson // @xxxkatxo // @memoriesat30 // @henrythickcavill // @crimsonrae // @henryobsessed // @madbaddic7ed // @summersong69

#henry cavill #henry cavill x ofc #henry cavill x oc #mister cavill your dog is kinda fat #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill x Olivia Tran

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