═════ஓ๑「𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕 𝚕𝚒𝚏𝚎」๑ஓ═════
"remember what you said the other day, quackity...? it's been playing on repeat in my head, just like shawty. you simp for me?" (y/n) mused, a sly grin appearing on their face.
quackity froze, his mouth agape in horror. he looked like a deer in headlights. he was so caught off guard that he failed to realized that they were joking. frantically, he sputtered out, "NO, IT wAS A JOKE! radio, chat, i am not a simp, i swear— chat, chat, no, i'm— YOU'RE GOING TO GET BANNED?"
(y/n) lost it while quackity tried to calm his chat down. "quackity, i'm just jokin'."
"OH, YOU— you did the technoblade thing, oh no..." quackity fake sniffled. "i hate it here."
"i— bruhh. in my defense, it was an accident?" it sounded more like a question to them. "i hang around him a lot, i guess."
"AGAIN— sure it was, sure it was..." (y/n) could tell he was shaking his head at the camera. "disappointment."
"oh, don't talk about yourself like that..." (y/n) cooed, fake sympathy in their voice. "you are so cool quackity. you are very cool."
"never mind the bit. someone clip that! i've been called cool by radio themself! this is a great fucking day, chat! today is fucking great!"
a sudden idea came into (y/n)'s mind. fuck yeah, it was time to pull a philza minecraft. "oh, also, i've been meaning to tell you something! just to fuck with twitch chat..." (y/n) quickly typed something into their dms, ignoring the chat history.
quackity gasped dramatically. "i— you trust me with your first name? man, this is so sudden, this is—"
"oh, shut up. i'm going to regret this, aren't i?"
"yes! yes you are!" (y/n) could hear his smile.
despite being a streamer for five-ish years, now, no one knew (y/n)'s real name. no one but priya and their roommate knew anything about them, other than their pronouns and what their fireplace looked like, for some odd reason. seriously, the amount of fan edits their fireplace got was unreasonable... they fucking SIMPED for it. some people actually weren't joking, and (y/n) didn't know whether to laugh or cry.
the two hadn't interacted that much, so quackity was shocked to hear they trusted him that much. there've been some dms here and there, and conversations in the dsmp discord, but it just consisted of small hobbies and shit—nothing deep.
quackity muted himself on his stream. "(y/n)," he whispered. a small smile was on his face. he unmuted, his hands somewhat shaking. whether from excitement or fear, he didn't know. was (y/n) going to kill him, now? like, to lure him into a false sense of security before they strike? "ooh, that's a nice name. chat, i'm literally not simping. motherfuckers don't even know how to use it correctly, smh my hea—!"
"ashahgjhkj WHY DOES QUACKITY GET TO KNOW YOUR FIRST NAME, BUT I DON'T?" tommy asked loudly. when did he get in call? no, how? "this is unfair. this is sexist. this is, um... age-ist!"
"huh? oh." (y/n) typed something into the general chat of the discord. "there, now everyone knows my name."
"good, good! now please put your social security number, address, and phone nu— and they left call." silence overtook the call. tommy coughed. "quackity, do you need love advice, big man?"
"BHAHAHAHA, shut the fuck up, tommy. go ask yourself that."
"so mean, and for what? i offered help, man. fuck you, big q, i get all the ladies. the ladies love me. i get all the woman, dickhead. fucking pric—"
(y/n) chuckled at tommy's antics, closing the tab with quackity's stream on it. the notepad app replaced it.
celebratory lemon tart milestones:
- voice reveal to friends ✔️
- voice reveal to stream ✔️
- name reveal (to friends at least)
- face reveal...?
they put a check next to the third one. poggers, now they had to make a lemon tart.
when they passed it, (y/n) checked the time on their grandfather clock. it was only about two in the morning for them. they had plenty of time to go shopping and bake a tart. before leaving the house, they made a mental note to thank techno for fucking up their sleep schedule.
"hey, uh... tommy wants you to join vc five, and also please don't ask how i got your number. i don't even know how, so we're both stuck questioning, uh... i totally didn't call every single number combination i could think of—"
(y/n) deleted the voicemail from charlie. it was sent a little over ten minutes ago, when (y/n) was still in the car and driving. now that they were home, they supposed they could join a vc... just for their entertainment. background noise would be nice while they made food.
"hello, radio!" tommy greeted, his voice quieter and softer than usual. (y/n) checked twitch and saw no one in call was streaming. "how are you doing?"
(y/n) had to stop for a few moments to process the question. their mind was elsewhere, and they didn't even want to go looking for it. "pretty good, man. making a celebratory tart, finally. how're you guys doing?"
most of them—them being tommy, charlie, fundy, and george—responded with lame answers, like "good" or "poggers." nerds. oh god, they were picking up techno's habits.
"so... you're making a tart?" george asked. (y/n) hummed. "why now of all hours? isn't it, like, morning for you americans?"
"i'm not american, man... and yeah, it's like three am right now, which is peak tart-making time. my roommate's asleep and shit, so i can't go off on you like i originally wanted."
"you're not american?" charlie cut in. "wait, i actually didn't know that i—"
"technically, i'm canadian. was born here, and i live here, but i did go to college in america, or some shit. why? you american?"
"i— yeah, actually."
"ew."
"well... honestly, though."
(y/n) vigorously mixed the lemon mixture in the saucepan, humming and silently talking to the people in the voice chat. at one point, slimecicle added the rythm bot and started playing careless whisper.
"and i'm never gonna dance again, the way i danced with you," they all sung. the discord delay made everything off-tune and scuffed, which then made it incredibly funny. (y/n) snapped and clapped to the rhythm, absolutely jamming out.
"tonight the music ssseems so loud. i wish that i could lose this crowd..." techno yawned, entering the kitchen. "good song. are you makin' that lemon thing again?"
(y/n) looked back, and waved. "hey, techno. yeah, i am. did you want some once it's done?" techno was already taking the coffee beans out of the cabinet, ready to brew a pot of coffee.
he nodded. "sure."
"i— sorry, repeat that name for me?" they could see tommy narrowing his eyes at the camera.
"techno...?"
"TECHNOBLADE IS YOUR FUCKING ROOMMATE?" he was so loud that techno could hear him, no doubt.
--
also flashback to the time i told my shoulder partner i was technically half-asian and he asked if my family had low tables/if we ate on the ground
good sir, what the fuck🙏
fuc
king
in
con
sis
tant
- my update schedule
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Fanfiction❝ 𝒊𝒇 𝒚𝒐𝒖'𝒓𝒆 𝒂𝒎 𝒓𝒂𝒅𝒊𝒐, 𝒘𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆𝒔 𝒇𝒎 𝒓𝒂𝒅𝒊𝒐 ? ❞ ... [ © -plxgue- :) ] mar 7 - jun 18
