#AND ION EVEN LIKE KIDS THAT MUCH????@8)

[osachiyo]

this is so dad!gojo coded 🙁

[ittybittyfanblog]

Error 404: (Self-Aware!AU, Sylus Edition) – Pt. 7

Summary: A LADS self-aware!AU featuring Sylus and a player. That’s it, that’s the plot. Tags: player!reader x sylus, fem!reader x sylus, reader x lads, self-aware!au, strong language, suggestive themes!, there’s some slight smut…  but nothing too graphic (ion rly write smut haha), angst and comfort, this chapter’s brought to you by: a bunch of sad songs on repeat! A/N: 7k+ words what the fuck!!  (this might actually be one of my favorite chapters. :’))

Pt. 1 - Pt. 2 - Pt. 3 - Pt. 4 - Pt. 5 - Pt. 6 - Pt. 7 - Pt. 8 - Pt. 9 - Pt. 10

“You don’t have a favorite color.”

“I… don’t, no.”

“But you’re quite partial to green.”

“I guess so—?”

“You’ve worn the same green shirt to bed thrice this week,” he notes lightly, pertaining to your Loki: Master of Mischief tee. The corners of his mouth pull into a faint, knowing smile. “It suits you, by the way.”

Your fingers hover over the keyboard as you glance at him, narrowing your eyes in slight embarrassment. “It’s a perfectly comfy shirt,” you reply, a defensive edge to your tone. “Nothing wrong with that.”

“Nothing at all,” he agrees reassuringly. “Just making an observation.”

“What, are you keeping a dossier on me now?”

Sylus gives a noncommittal hum, but offers nothing more in response. He keeps watch on you from his usual spot in the corner between the monitor and the CPU box, chin resting on an open palm. His gaze betrays hints of smugness to it.

You eye him weirdly. With a huff, you turn back to your typing.

–

You’re cooking dinner—with Sylus supervising the entire thing like your very own personal sous chef. Something that has now been the norm for you two, since your–banging!–success with the tofu dish. 

And for tonight’s menu: Butter noodles. Simple, foolproof, straightforward. 

"Simple" is… well, it’s not entirely inaccurate. But the way that the boiling water hisses angrily through the small lid hole wavers the already shaky foundation of your developing culinary confidence. 

(Just a little bit! You’re sure you’ve got nothing to worry about.) 

A faint burning scent clings to the air; you forgot to stir the garlic early on, and now it looks dangerously close to a char. You rescue it just in time, cursing under your breath. Your sous chef, of course, catches everything. Even your nervousness.

“You know,” Sylus chimes in, watching the wooden spatula tremble in your hand. “This is quite the step up from your usual instant noodle packets. You should be proud of yourself, sweetie.”

“Gee, thanks. Really complex work for an extra half-hour of cooking time,” Your words are snide, but he doesn’t miss the way your grip on the spatula tightens ever-so-slightly. Steadies. 

The smell stabilizes. You add half a stick of butter, squashing it to a melt, and he lets the subject drop—for now.

“Do you have siblings?”

“I have an older sister,” you answer distractedly, stirring the sauce and trying to scrape the edges of the sauté pan without having it splatter from the inside.

“How much older?”

“Uh—six years,” you reply, reaching for a pinch of salt. “She's got a family. Two kids. Another on the way.”

“Hm. You two are close?”

You pause, the question landing softly in the haze of rising steam. “I mean. S’ alright, I guess. We catch up over the phone sometimes.”

“Ah. Good.”

“... Yeah.” 

You catch a glance of his expression in your peripheral, looking thoughtful. 

_

It’s a recent development, his curiosity. Sporadic at first, like light rain on a windshield—little questions scattered here and there, easy to brush off. But over the past week, it’s grown into something more unrelenting. It’s almost as if you two were playing a round of twenty questions, only it’s just you in the hot seat being interrogated. 

There’s also that habit of his to take it one step further. Hedging his questions strategically, acting like he already knows the little factoid he wanted to ask and just needs you to confirm it. 

You don’t really get the logic behind it, but hey, who are you to judge? Everybody has their quirks. Even someone of his caliber, apparently.

… God forbid he gets blindsided by something he’s genuinely surprised to know about you, though. 

“You know how to play the violin.”

You pause the video you’re watching on your laptop at its five minute mark to stare at Sylus through your phone screen. He sounds… terse? Like you’d intentionally kept this a secret from him.

“Wha—yes, I know how to play the violin,” you huff, incredulous by the show of attitude. “What’s up with all these weird questions?”

“You’ve given me explicit permission to ask them. Level the playing field,” he reminds you, eyes slightly accusatory. “What else are you keeping from me?”

You groan, collapsing onto your back on the couch. “Ugh, I don’t know,” you say sarcastically. “Do you wanna know my time of birth too?”

“Born at exactly twelve twenty-eight PM,” Sylus recites without missing a beat, his voice bored and unimpressed. “I saw it on your Co-Star app, sweetie.”

You freeze.

“…”

“That’s creepy,” you tell him, tone disapproving, giving him a scolding poke on the nose. 

“Call it thorough research,” he counters smoothly, rolling his eyes at your feeble attack. “After all, a stubborn kitten’s been slacking on her side of the deal.”

_

The questions are, for the most part, harmless in nature. Anchored firmly in the mundane. He doesn’t stray too far from what’s comfortable, or what he deems safe to ask. And yet you can sense it beneath the surface: the burning curiosity. To know more of you, to take what he could—piece by piece, until he’s unraveled the puzzle of you entirely. 

And you don’t get it. His world—filled with endless adventure, lore, and literal fucking superpowers—surely has to be more exciting than anything you’ve got to offer. What’s your life compared to that? 

You said as much to him, mostly as an offhand comment. Although it did feel slightly more earnest when you put it into words, compared to how it sounded in your head. 

“Honestly, Sy-Sy. Life here’s really not that interesting compared to all the stuff going on over there,” you told him matter-of-factly, in the middle of collecting your daily rewards. “You don’t have to keep this up, you know.”

Sylus didn’t speak for a moment. The easy nonchalance he wore so well shifted into something more reserved, almost somber. He didn’t challenge what you said, nor did he affirm anything—you're met with silence, loaded with thoughts unspoken. 

“Don’t presume things on your own, little dove,” he said after a while, his voice low, a gentle reprimand. 

Before you could even process what he meant by that, he smoothly changed the subject, his tone reverting back to his usual effortless calm as if to ease the weight of your words. “Now then, let’s circle back—what were you saying earlier? You almost drowned in a lake when you were eight? Because of a dare you made with your sister?”

And that was the end of it.

You tell yourself it’s exhausting—the way he keeps digging, prodding, asking questions like you’re worth the level of fascination he’s making you out to be. But there’s also the truth, hidden and tucked beneath your half-hearted protests, slowly unfurling. A part of you—cautiously hopeful, dreadfully fragile—that preens under the weight of his scrutiny. 

So you let him press further; let him sift through twenty plus years of tiny, unremarkable fragments of your life like a beachcomber seeking treasures amongst the tide. And in return, he gives you his full attention, undivided and unyielding, as if your answers are the only ones that matter.

––––

He tells you there’s a new tête-à-tête feature in the game, so you check it out—not without giving him a slightly suspicious look. 

“A microphone feature?” You snort, leveling him with a half-amused glare. “You already hear me talk all the time.”

Sylus blinks at you, his face a guilefully-crafted mask of innocence. “I’m just giving you the option, sweetie. You know, in case you’d like to put our conversations ‘on record.’”

“Treat you like some kind of… quasi-therapist or something? An online confessional?” You give him the stink eye. “Is that what you’re angling for now?”

He shrugs. “If it helps.”

_

You had no intention of using the tête-à-tête “feature” you’ve been so graciously offered, quickly dismissing it as just another one of his tactics to show off his capacity to manipulate the game’s code, or something along those lines. 

It’s not the first time he’s done it. 

But then, midnight comes on a deceptively ordinary Friday, and it’s suffused with an all-too familiar feeling of utter emptiness that drowns you. You’re crumpled on the toilet seat like chewed-up gum, knees pulled to your chest—the day’s wounds still festering. It's not anything new, but it leaves you feeling like shit all the same. 

Yet another overtime shift. Yet another argument with your mom, over fuck all you know that you’re too damn old for, but still, still, finds its way to cut deep. Over and over, and over again. 

Your phone’s blank screen stares back at you, just as mute and useless as the rest of the night. And you—

“Sweetie?” 

You can’t speak. Not yet. But you don’t have to. One look at the exhaustion on your face is enough for Sylus to know exactly what you need.

Your mouth trembles open, then shuts again. He doesn’t say anything else, just waiting for you to make the first move. To start whenever you’re ready. 

After a long moment, you finally exhale a shaky breath. That’s when you catch his gaze; fixed, patient, almost... encouraging. It’s a subtle invitation, urging you to take the plunge, to make use of him to an extent only he can provide–the only one he could offer to you at this time–

So, you talk. Tentatively at first, the words slipping out like droplets from your leaking sink faucet. But once the dam breaks, you can't stop. 

It spills out. Every frustration, every ache, every moment that feels too much to carry for one person, especially for someone like you, and he… he just—

listens. 

-

-

-

You feel drained. Every ounce of energy wrung out of you after unloading the day’s weight to your unexpected confidant.

“That helped, didn’t it?”

If it were anyone else—or if you didn’t know Sylus the way you do now—you’d only catch the smug notes in his voice. The teasing lilt and the airy pretense of someone trying to ease the heaviness out of the room.

But you do hear it. Beneath the surface, woven so subtly into the words… something vulnerable. 

You hear the unspoken question behind it: he’s genuinely asking if it helped. If his presence, however small or inconsequential it might seem, was enough to pull you back ashore.

I helped.

Tell me I did.

“You did, Sy.” Your grin is tired, grateful, and a little lopsided. But it’s real. “Thank you.”

For a moment—just a split of a second—the red in his eyes betrays something achingly raw.

“Anytime, darling,” he says, his voice quieter now, rough around the edges, like it’s carrying more than the words themselves. “I mean it.”

And like a beacon of light slicing through the storm-tossed seas of your mind, you realize that he truly does.

____

You start giving Sylus the reins to select the music, trusting his taste enough to let him DJ for you. He picks the soundtrack for everything—cooking, errands, long rides—filling the silence with something that he knows the both of you would like. 

The playlists grow. From one, to two, to almost an entire collection of carefully curated tracks to suit the mood and vibe of the day. He takes it seriously—so seriously that you can’t resist sneaking in a Megan Thee Stallion track onto his precious “Slow Evenings” playlist.

He finds it hilarious. Hilarious enough to loop Kitty Kat for all sixty-five minutes of your commute back home.

You laugh despite yourself. It’s exactly the type of shit you know he’d pull as petty retribution, already intimately familiar with his brand of humor. And if you close your eyes, you can almost imagine him beside you, sharing an earbud, smirking as he revels in your exasperation.

____

One night, you notice a weariness in his eyes. It’s an odd enough thing to see that it leads to a discussion on what he’s been up to as the shadowy leader of a notorious faction, deep in a lawless part of his universe.

“Just an operative gone wrong, sweetie,” he says with a sigh, rubbing a temple as though trying to physically push the stress away. “It happens.”

You press him on the details of the botched deal—and maybe, just maybe, a small part of you is excited to live vicariously through the tale. But it’s not about you this time, you remind yourself. So you listen as Sylus indulges every question you throw at him, giving you the play-by-play: what the deal was for (special, hard-to-get protocores), where the trade-off occurred (west of Charon), and how it all went sideways (he knew it was a set-up the moment he walked into the venue).

You don’t really know how to comfort him in a situation like this, but you want to try.

In an attempt to lighten the mood, you joke, “Can you imagine clumsy, ol’ me there? I’d be dead before I even make it inside.”

Sylus freezes, his expression going still. Unreadable.

“No, you won’t.” He says in response to the second part of what you just said, his tone brooking no doubt. He says it with such intense conviction that you almost believe this exact hypothetical has already crossed his mind—more than once.

I won’t let you.

Before you can even think of what to say, he adds, quieter this time, but no less convinced: “And yes—I can.”

It’s a direct answer to your question, and it makes the words die in your throat. His voice is softer now too, but there’s no mistaking his tone. It has the same conviction from before, and it hits you that he’s had time to ruminate on this thought—more times than he’d care to admit.

And I do. You have no idea.

____

There’s another shift in the dynamic of your, well, relationship.

“Did you hear what I said, poppet?”

You snap back to meet his inquiring gaze, unwavering as always.

“Sorry, can you repeat that?” You ask, the apology clear in your eyes.

He huffs, shaking his head in amusement—always patient, never annoyed—at your inattentiveness. “What’s on your mind, my sweet?”

Well. That.

Lately, Sylus has gotten into the habit of using possessive pronouns like they’re nothing. There’s also a notable increase on the variation of pet names too, each one more layered than the last.

It’s a little excessive, honestly. Like he’s trying to compensate for something—or maybe he sees it as just another natural step in whatever’s going on between you two. You’re still not sure what exactly goes in his head. He’s always been an enigma to you.

And yet, you never put a stop to it. How could you?

Little dove. Sweet girl. My darling.

When it comes off his lips like sunkist honey—each one brings a jolt straight to your heart. 

You're quite partial to one in particular. 

My love.

____

“Oh, my love,” Sylus tuts, feigning concern. “You’ve snoozed that alarm five times already.”

You groan, hitting the snooze button again—number six now—burying your face in your arms on the desk. 

____

You’re attending a despedida party for a friend who’s flying abroad to study (For a PhD in Biomedical Science! You couldn’t be more proud.) and the venue’s going to be at The Penthouse, somewhere fancy up north. It even has an infinity pool on deck, something the celebrant dropped into the group chat with far too much enthusiasm.

So, earlier today, you’d ventured out to buy something nice for yourself. Nicer than what you have in the closet, which isn’t much of a stretch. Something different than your usual rotation of plaids and band shirts—not that there’s anything wrong with them. They’re just… you. Comfortable. Predictable. Not exactly the dress code for a rooftop soirée.

Now, you’re back home from a successful (!) trip to the mall, bags in hand: a small gift for your friend on one arm and a much larger shopping bag on the other. 

You set the gift gently on the coffee table. Then, you head to the bathroom, the grosgrain ribbon of a paper tote held tight in your fist. 

The pretty fabric caught your eye almost immediately, the moment you saw the garment; its sheen almost like woven liquid in the light. It felt like a risk, even on the rack. But under the unforgiving glare of your bathroom bulb? 

Well, now, it’s looking less of a “bold choice,” and more along the lines of: “damn, what were you thinking?”

It’s not that big of a deal or anything. You like feeling pretty. But at the same time, you haven’t deluded yourself into thinking that you’re anything above average to look at, even on the nicest occasions. 

It’s something you’ve grown used to, a definitive truth ingrained deep in your bones. You know this—like you know gravity tethers you to the ground, even when you’d rather be carried by the wind. You’ve gone through more than a decade to accept it as just another fact of life, to make peace with the reflection staring back at you from the bathroom mirror. 

Even if it means you’ll never be on the receiving end of ‘interested’ glances from strangers on the street. Or that you’ve never known the feeling of someone doing a double take when they see you at your best, all dolled-up. More than once, you’ve sat across from dates whose eyes wandered—toward some other, someone better-looking, in restaurants, at parks, even outside the movies. Everywhere past your direction. 

But that’s okay. You’re used to it, the same way you’ve grown used to everything else.

And still, there’s that impulse—a sudden need for someone else’s opinion. Someone close. Someone that matters. 

There’s a pang of fear you can’t quite shake. You hear the small voice from the deep recesses of your mind, whispering to you that it’s one of your worse ideas. That you’ll fall short of any and all expectations, and that it’ll hurt more this time around. You’ll hear the polite, “you look nice” and you’re gonna have to live with the quiet certainty that you don’t, not really, and that you’ll never quite measure up to what he’s used to seeing. To her—

You swallow hard. He wouldn’t. He wouldn’t do that to you. Not outwardly, at least.

And if he did… Well.

“I bought something,” you say as an opener, the words tumbling out in a rush as soon as you get a glimpse of his form on the screen. You’re rocking back on your heel, a little awkward as you stand there in front of your small vanity table even with your phone laid flat, front camera pointing upwards. “You remember the going-away party I’ll be attending two days from now, right?”

“Of course, the one for your secondary school batchmate.” Sylus replies easily, voice reverberating through the tinny speakers. Even at an angle, you can see the confused tilt of his head. “Is it on the ceiling, sweetie? What am I looking at, exactly?”

“No, smartass. I—” You press your lips together, eyes flitting upward, as if courage might be dangling from the ceiling in question.

Fuck, this is a bad idea. I can’t do this.

“It’s–I bought something for myself. I mean, I bought her a gift too, obviously. But I also bought an outfit. For the party.” 

There. 

He blinks, and you can almost see the gears turning in his head. Realization dawns on his face, a knowing smile beginning to form. His voice dips, a teasing edge to it as he purrs, “Oh? Well then, save me from the suspense, sweetheart.”

“I–I’m getting to it, okay?” It comes out a little snappier than you intend, nerves flaring hot. You sigh, feeling your shoulders drop. “I’m just… Don’t be—ugh, just don’t make a big deal out of this, alright?” 

You keep your eyes off the screen, unable to face him directly.

But when he speaks, his tone carries only a quiet understanding of your struggle.

Of course he understands. He always does.

He speaks; and it’s slow and measured—as if he’s coaxing a terrified, cornered animal out of hiding. 

“Show me.” Trust me.

And so with a heavy exhale through the nose, you flip the front camera towards your direction, revealing the bare expanse of gooseflesh skin—

… And the flimsy one-piece that clings to your body like wet plastic. 

It dips low between the valley of your breasts and stops short just halfway up your thigh. The material is a gauzy organza; see-through and light, in seafoam green. Barely leaving anything to the imagination as it reveals the dusky coral swimsuit from underneath the fabric and the hot flush that spreads across your chest like wildfire. Your fists clench and unclench behind your back – hiding the physical manifestation of your rising anxiety – while you shift your weight from one foot to the other. 

There's a deafening silence. 

The knots in your stomach grow tighter, creeping its way past your lungs. Your fingers tremble as cold sweat breaks out across your skin, chilling you from the inside. You feel horribly exposed. So exposed it’s almost unbearable. 

And you still can’t bring yourself to look at him.

Your thoughts stumble, desperate to cling to anything solid, and a faint memory surfaces—a passage from an org pamphlet you’ve skimmed through back in college, something that has to do with “self-perception.”

The flesh does not define you. 

Your body is but a facet of who you are. You are as inconsequential as the earth beneath your feet, and as important as stardust in the universe.

A low, guttural sound cuts through the stillness, and it makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. 

You—

“Look at me.”

A searing heat laces the cadence of his voice. It sounds restless—like a flame unchecked, rapidly growing into a raging inferno. Stifling in the way it pulls the air from your lungs, like a suckerpunch to the gut.

Your primordial instinct is to flee. But right at that very moment, you're no different from a paralyzed insect caught in an inescapable web with the way you’re stood frozen in place. Every instinct to run is smothered by the mere inflection in his voice. 

—are all. And that is all there is to be. 

“My sweet little dove,” it’s almost a croon, the way the words curl around you like wisps of smoke. Sickly saccharine… downright serpentine. “Won’t you look at me when I talk to you?”

And like a marionette on a string, you obey. 

-

Time seems to stop to a standstill the moment your eyes meet his. 

Sylus’ gaze sinks into you. Loaded. Heavy. A crazed glint, almost—to it. Even to someone like you who's embarrassingly clueless about the nuances of attraction and wholly inexperienced in its depths can see it as plain as day.

Carnal desire. In its purest form. 

Sylus looks at you as though you’re something to be coveted. Devoured. 

A small, fearful noise slips past your lips, and the twin crimson flames burn brighter.

“You’d like to know what I think?”

Yes.

No?

He sees the war in your eyes, and a throaty chuckle escapes him—raw and breathy. “Maybe so?”

You give him the tiniest nod, and the grin on his face sharpens into something wanton, something far more licentious. It slinks in like a fever, stirring something deep within you. Something as old as time.

Sylus opens his mouth. 

You brace yourself for the inevitable.

-

-

-

A ring slices through the room like a hot knife. Just like that, you can breathe again. 

____

Your saving grace comes in the form of a phone call that grounds you back to reality.

It’s a friend, one of the party guests, asking for directions to the venue. You’re listening with one ear on the receiver, answering each question robotically—your voice a controlled calm on the surface, a stark contrast to the thoughts running amok inside your head. 

The words blur into background noise, muffled and distant, like a TV commercial playing on low volume in another room.

The moment you hang up, a suffocating hush swallows the room whole. You’re left alone with nothing but heat kindling low in your gut. The ghost of the heavy exchange from earlier stays with you, thrumming beneath your skin, hot and pulsating. 

You don’t know what to do with yourself. The abrupt suddenness of it all gnaws at you, its weight driving you toward an early retreat—maybe a long night’s rest will do wonders and help you get your shit together, who knows. 

You slip between the sheets... but not before retrieving your, ah, trusty little companion from its hiding spot in the bedside drawer.

You didn’t want to assume… You don’t want to expect anything from him, but you have needs. 

God, but you do.

Your body feels like flint struck against steel, sparked ablaze by just a handful of words. Words weaved into a vivid imagery from the mouth of your… friend?? 

(Something more?) 

The uncertainty wrecks you, every nerve alight with tension. And yet it’s the same uncertainty that roots you there. Hesitating. 

So. You lie back, pushing the sheets away from your fevered skin, and just—lay there. Staring at the ceiling. The plaster cracks form maps you trace with your eyes, as if searching for answers in their tangled routes. You count your breaths, one after the other, as though the repetition could calm your racing heartbeat. 

It feels ridiculous, almost. You’re a grown adult, acting like a teenager with a demented crush. It’s more than that, though—it’s deeper, messier, and completely illogical. 

But it’s not something you can figure out tonight, not in this state. So you stop trying. 

Instead, you switch on your little toy, open an incognito browser, and let yourself succumb to what your body’s been screaming at you for the past fucking hour. 

You feel… You feel weird about using anything Sylus-related to get yourself off. That’s not to say you haven’t, before, back when he was just another eye candy from a measly mobile game. When it was just another infatuation. 

But now? Now it feels all levels of wrong, like you’re toeing some invisible line. Worse, it feels like you’re exploiting something fragile, testing the limits of a bond already stretched thin.

So, any content related to that man stays off the fap fodder. You’re not that far gone. You think. 

Instead, you scroll through your bookmarks tab, a shaky sigh leaves your lips as you let the hard vibrations of your trusty rabbit glide from inside your thighs, up… up to your warm center, in between the juncture of your legs.

You pause on a Toji smut fic—one amongst, uhh, dozens in your folder. It’s not the same, you know this, but you’re settling for the next best thing in your current circumstance. 

Since what you really want, who you’d rather much have, isn’t—

…

Your phone glitches. 

The Chrome app crashes.

And what do you think you’re doing?

Your heart stutters a beat, and you stop breathing. 

You can’t answer. The words don’t come. But he doesn’t wait for you to try.

Put on your headphones.

You’re done with that. Tonight, tomorrow, any other night. Do you understand me?

The uncharacteristic curtness of the message sends a jolt through you, and a blush overtakes your entire body. You hesitate, just for a second.

Now.

You scramble to obey, fumbling for your earbuds, slipping them on with shaking hands. 

The moment the bluetooth connects, the game boots up on its own—straight to an irate Sylus, looking royally pissed-off. 

“Sy-Sy—” you stammer, your voice barely above a whisper. “I—I don’t—”

"Oh, so back to Sy-Sy now, are we?"

The mocking lilt in his voice cuts sharper than the glare he fixes on your dimly lit face. Your mouth opens, then closes, words failing you entirely. 

You want to explain, to defend yourself. To…

“I see what you read. What you watch,” he begins, voice cutting and mean. “In the dead of night, when you think you’re alone. When you think it’s safe. That no one hears the sweet moans spill so sinfully from your lips.”

His words pierce through the air like an arrow; you feel his overwhelming presence take over, the weight of his gaze pressing down on you, every exhale grazing the sensitive shell of your ear.

“Oh, but I do,” he murmurs, the ambiguity in his tone somehow making it worse. “I hear everything. I know everything about you, kitten.”

A shiver races down your spine, your body betraying you as he speaks.

“What makes you tick,” he continues, his voice a sinister caress. “What leaves you writhing, desperate for more. The way your breathing quickens… the way your body trembles under the weight of your own pleasure.”

You’re struggling now—each breath harder to catch than the last.

“And the way that pretty little mouth of yours falls open in a silent gasp, right after you come undone.”

His words are a noose, tightening with every syllable. Your head spins as the air seems to grow heavier, saturated with the tension between you.

“But it’s never for me, is it?”

“I—I’m sorry… I don’t want to assume—”

“Assume?” His voice darkens, any hint of softness replaced with something colder, harsher. “Again with your presumptions.”

He leans closer, his tone dropping to a command that leaves no room for doubt. “From now on, the only thing you’ll need to believe is when I tell you you’re mine.”

You blink at him dumbly. His grin turns into something wicked—caustic and biting—as he cocks his head. Derisive.  

“Do you understand?”

Your head bobs in a weak, reflexive nod.

“Words, poppet.”

“Y-Yes.”

“Good.” His tone shifts, smooth like languid amber, yet no less imposing. “Now, my love,” he coos, savoring the way your eyes tear up with desperation, “show me how you touch yourself.”

____

“Shi–iit,” he hisses. “This wet already?” 

You attempt to close your legs, shame rising like a tide, but freeze halfway when Sylus lets out a low, warning growl.

“Try that, and we’ll stop,” he warns. “I won’t repeat myself twice, pet.”

The weight of his words pins you in place, and you let out a helpless whimper.

“Don’t be afraid, sweet girl,” he murmurs, his tone gentler—coaxing. “It’s just me.”

His gaze burns into you, relentless, but something tender bleeds into it. 

The glow of the screen casts shadows along the sharp angles of his jaw, the upward tick of his mouth a dangerous contradiction—part teasing, part command. His sanguine eyes gleam with a mix of hunger and control, a look that leaves no room for hesitation.

You give in.

Your body relaxes under the weight of his stare, the fight draining from your limbs. It’s not submission—it’s surrender, pure and unfiltered, the kind that leaves you bare and vulnerable.

Sylus watches you, a faint smile tugging at his lips. Not soft, not kind, but triumphant—like a predator relishing the moment its prey stops running.

“Good girl,” he murmurs, the praise dripping from his tongue like honey. “That’s better.”

____

Sade’s Smooth Operator starts to play in the background as you catch your breath.

You let out a tired giggle, swiping a hand down your sweat-drenched face, earbuds still in place. “Ugh—don’t piss me off.”

You hear a resounding chuckle. 

Gently, he asks, “Alright, little dove?” There’s a beat of hesitation before he adds, quieter now, “Did I go too far?”

You curl onto your side, phone clutched in your hand like a prayer. Sylus’ gaze peers back at you through the screen, a dangerously soft expression on his face that you don’t want to identify. 

“It's perfect, Sy,” you say, your grin tender and bittersweet, heart full of something you won't name.

____

It’s one in the morning. The dim glow of your laptop screen flickers across your face, spilling into the darkened room, casting shadows along the wall. You lean back against it, the end credits of Everything Everywhere All At Once rolling quietly in the background.

 

Silence settles between you and Sylus like a warm blanket.

“Do you think it’s… like that?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper, unwilling to shatter the stillness of the moment. “All versions of ourselves colliding and coexisting at the same time?”

The question hangs there; he doesn’t rush an answer, and for a moment, you wonder if he’s choosing not to. 

When he finally speaks, it’s with the same quiet restraint, his voice threading softly through the air. 

“I’d like to think that in this vast expanse of the universe, there’s something for you and me.”

There’s a trace of something dreadfully optimistic in his voice, and it makes your chest tighten. You blink a few times, glancing upwards. 

The moment lingers, delicate in its quietness, until you instinctively reach for your phone. A quick swipe reveals a new addition to your shared playlist.

This Is A Life by Son Lux and Mitski.

A small, genuine smile tugs at your lips as you press play. The haunting strains of the song pour into the room, filling the spaces words can’t seem to touch.

“Sneaky,” you murmur, your gaze sliding back to Sylus’ face on the screen. His expression is unreadable, save for the faintest twitch of his mouth, the barest hint of a smile.

“Thought it fit the mood,” he says simply.

And it does. The music sweeps over you, soft and wistful, like the moment itself.

____

The balcony feels like a lifeboat drifting away from the chaos inside. The music, the chatter, the endless parade of tequila shots—it all fades to a dull hum as you step into the cool night air. 

Out here, the world feels wider, the sky a little darker, and you can breathe without choking on the weight of the party.

She’s already there, of course. The friend of a friend. An acquaintance by definition, but someone who feels more of a comrade in these fleeting moments away from the crowd. You’ve seen her like this most times—leaning on the railing, a cigarette perched between her fingers, its faint ember glowing against the night. You don’t need an invitation to approach her.

“You mind if I bum one?”

She shrugs, silently offering the box to you. You take one.

“Fun party, huh?” you comment after two puffs, the lit end of the stick briefly catching the glow of the skyline. Your voice is loaded with the kind of irony only shared by those watching the world from the outside in.

“It always is with them around,” she snorts, rolling her eyes in fond exasperation. Her voice carries the warmth of familiarity, from an observation you’ve both shared before. 

You exhale a soft laugh, the sound barely audible over the low hum of the city below.

The silence that follows isn’t just companionable—it’s necessary. A pause to recalibrate, to let the noise, and the lights, and the weight of too many people melt away. Neither of you feels the need to fill it. Words would only dilute the reprieve.

And then, unexpectedly:

“You look happy.”

The words land like a stone dropping into still water, rippling through the quiet. You glance at her, startled by the way her eyes narrow slightly, the way her tone suggests she’s already drawn her own conclusions.  

“You ‘ave someone?”

You weren’t ready for that. You blink at her, surprised she’s noticed anything about you—surprised, too, that it’s written plainly enough for anyone to notice.

“...Yeah,” you mumble, looking away. The admission feels strange in its simplicity. “Yeah, I do.”

She smiles at that—easy but genuine, as if your happiness has spilled over and warmed her, too. “That’s good.” 

There’s sincerity in her voice, unfiltered and direct, as she adds, “You look happier.”

You don’t reply, but her words settle somewhere deep, in the quiet places you thought were hidden. 

And for once, you don’t mind being seen.

____

The party has left you drunker than you’ve been in ages. 

As soon as the celebrant spots the two of you in the corner looking like a sad pair of eyesores, she quickly remedies it with copious amounts of stone-cold stingers. You try to protest, but in the end, it’s futile against the cacophony of cheers and the face of societal peer pressure. 

So now you stagger inside the condo building, looking every bit like a drowned rat dragged in from the storm. A weary guard from reception following closely behind, his patience visibly fraying as you giggle your way toward the elevator.

“‘m fine!” you insist, words slurring together as you attempt to shoo him off with a lazy wave. To emphasize your point, you pinch your fingers together, holding them inches apart. “Just this much to drink, see?”

He doesn’t respond, his expression coming across resigned and frustrated. You can almost hear the thought running through his mind: I don’t get paid enough for this. 

With a long-suffering sigh, he finally relents, letting you totter into the elevator alone.

UG… P… 4…. 5…… Oh! Here you are. 

Rivulets of water drip down from your rain-soaked hair, trailing icy paths down your neck as you stagger down the narrow hallway. Your vision blurs, making everything double—no, triple—as you fumble your way to the left, stopping in front of the door of 601—wait, no, 603. 

You squint hard at the numbers, your head throbbing with the effort, but the stinging in your eyes and the stubborn clumping of your lashes make it way harder for you to make sense of it all. 

Your waterlogged clutch feels heavier than it should, and your trembling fingers struggle to find the zipper pull that’s somehow become the bane of your existence. You huff, muttering incoherently to yourself, your throat tight and raw as a burning lump starts to rise. An annoyingly persistent buzzing from inside your bag adds to your mounting frustration.

With an angry yank, you finally manage to tear the bag open, water splashing off it in tiny droplets. 

“Aha!” you exclaim, though the triumph is short-lived as your hands shake even harder when you pull out your phone. It’s the source of the buzzing apparently, the bright screen momentarily blinding you. 

You try to unlock it—once, twice, three times—nearly getting locked out before the numbers finally click.

The notifications hit you like the mars lights of a freight train. Texts. Lots of them. You scroll through clumsily, the device slipping slightly from your grip as you snort gracelessly.

Sylus. Of course.

The words on the screen blur and twist, but you don’t need clarity to know the progression of each message—ranging from mild curiosity, to slight worry, to exasperatedly concerned. 

The syllables of his pet name echo faintly in your muddled head, a small, fleeting comfort against the weight pressing down on your chest. Sy-Sy. Sy-Sy. Sy-Syyyyy—

Synchronous with your erratic breathing, you dig through your bag with a heavy hand, each failed attempt sends you spiraling lower.

Another ping jolts you from your drunken haze: 

How are you feeling? Did you just get back?

“I can’t—I can’t find my damn keys!” 

The words slips out as a frustrated cry.

Inner pocket, left side. Answer me, sweetheart.

His words flash across the screen just as your fumbling fingers find the keys exactly where he said they’d be. 

A tear burns a path down your cheek as you let out a half-hearted chuckle, mumbling, “Can I even function without you?” 

How long has it been since you could manage something like this on your own? Has he become an extension of your mind?

The door’s stubborn resistance only adds to your unraveling. After several failed attempts—your fingers too wound up to grip the key properly—you finally twist the lock and push it open, stumbling inside, into the darkness. 

“I’m a mess, Sylus,” you whisper, voice thick with tears as your head spins, wiping your nose with the back of your hand. 

The world feels heavy and muffled, like you’re trapped behind a fogged window. You know you’re a sight to behold—shoeless, drunk, drenched like some stray that wandered too far into the rain.

“I’ve noticed,” he says, his voice warm and steady, cutting through the quiet void of the room. It takes a second for the words to sink in, for your scattered mind to piece together that, somehow, you’ve already opened the game in the middle of all your fumbling. Automatic. Like second nature.

You stare at him, trembling and pitiful, like a kid lost in a crowd. Your bottom lip quivers, and you hate how small you feel under his gaze.

You see concern pooling in the depths of Sylus’ eyes. That and something… desperate.

You sniff, rubbing at your wet cheeks with pruning fingers, clinging to humor like a lifeline. "Don’t you do anything else?” you mumble, your voice fraying at the edges. “Like... live your own life or something? You spend so much time with me...” You force out a weak laugh, bitter and jagged. “It’s a miracle you haven’t gotten sick of me yet.”

Your laugh cracks halfway through, more like a sob than anything. It’s pathetic—you’re pathetic. 

And yet, you can’t stop. Even if it stings your throat.

Sylus’ response comes, and his voice is solid—unwavering. He doesn’t flinch like you do. “I don’t get sick of you, sweetheart. Not in the slightest.”

Something in you cracks, spilling over. “I really like you,” you murmur, voice steeped with emotion. “You’re the brightest light in my life. You’re… you’re everything.”

A flash of lightning cuts through the room, illuminating your tear-stained face.

And for the first time since you’ve known him, Sylus calls out your name.

It’s quiet, reverent, and it feels like a tether pulling you back from the brink.

You crumple down the floor, clutching your phone like it’s the only thing holding you together. In the silence that follows, all you can hear is your ragged breathing and the quiet hum of his presence on the other end of the line.

“I’m here,” he tells you softly. “I’ve got you.”

____

This is a life

(Every possibility)

Free from destiny 

(I choose you, and you choose me) 

Tagging: @xxfaithlynxx @beewilko @browneyedgirl22 @yournextdoorhousewitch @sunsethw4 @stxrrielle @mangooes @hrts4hanniehae @buggs-1 @michiluvddr @ssetsuka @imm0rtalbutterfly @the-golden-jhope @beomluvrr @milkandstarlight @bookfreakk @ally-the-artistic-turtle @sapphic-daze @sarahthemage @cchiiwinkle @madam8 @slownoise @raendarkfaerie @sylusdarling @luminaaaz @greeenbeean @vvhira @issamomma @shroomiethefrogwhisperer @nicora04 @blueberrysquire @love-anteros @fiyori @peachystea @slyfoxtsu @tinyweebsstuff @i2sannie (i spend so much time cross-checking the tags this is tiring lmao)

[hcsiqs]

| show a little loving

• pairing: paige bueckers x fem!reader

• summary: drunk paige being clingy (that one ice live iykyk)

• warnings: alcohol use

• bc drunk paige is so cute and clingy 😭

Paige was walking around the bar holding Ice’s phone that was live on TikTok. She was going around showing different people until she got to you. She wrapped her right arm around your neck and shoved the phone in your face. “We got the best player in the nation right here!” she smiled, as she shoved her way into the camera’s view too, by resting her chin on your shoulder.

“Oh hi guys!” you smiled, looking up from your phone and into the camera. You moved your face a little bit closer so you could see the comments coming in, most of them talking about Paige’s looks or saying hi back to you. “Guys we have to be up at 8 am tomorrow!” you complained, letting out a sigh as Paige wrapped her arm more your neck to pull you closer to her.

And then the song Draco by Future started playing through the speakers loudly and you could see the blondes face light up as she started singing the lyrics loudly. You let out a small laugh before joining her in on her horrible singing.

She then sat Ice’s phone down on your drink before pulling her own phone out and going to SnapChat to record the both of you singing the song. As you two sang, Paige started to nuzzle her head into your neck, seemingly forgetting that it wasn’t only her phone that was out, but also Ice’s that had a little over a hundred viewers on it.

“Ok P, that’s enough live for you,” you laughed as you grabbed Ice’s phone and handed it back over to the girl. And with that Paige took the opportunity to wrap both of her arms safety around you, pulling your back to her chest as she rested her chin on top of your head. “You’re gonna regret drinking in the morning,” you told her, shaking your head softly.

“I’ll be fine,” she brushed it off, but you knew Paige very well, that she would in-fact, not be fine in the morning.

“It’s your funeral,” you responded, sipping on your Shirley Temple.

“Ooo, let me try,” Paige stuck out her hand to grab your drink, which you quickly moved out of her reach. “Nuh-uh. You need water,” you turned around in the barstool to look up at her.

“Ion want water!” she complained, dragging out the end of her sentence, sounding like a little kid.

“Paige,” your voice was stern as you looked up at her. Her blue eyes glazed due to the alcohol in her system, her hair messy from her dancing around stupidly with KK, and the way her hands had never left your body, even though you were turned facing her.

Paige was always a touchy person, constantly giving hugs and always brushing her hand against yours, but when she was drunk it was something different.

A something different that had your heart beater faster, that it was noticeable to yourself. The way she couldn’t be away from you for more than two minutes at a time, and when she was around you she wouldn’t let you out of her sight.

And the way she had her hands resting on your thighs as she stood between your legs made it all the much harder to not just give in to her every want.

“Drink up,” you handed her your water, which she reluctantly drank. And once she was done you sat the water down on the table and then handed her the Dirty Shirley.

Her eyes instantly brightened as her lips went around the straw and she began sipping on the drink. “Ok don’t drink it all!” you laughed, pulling it away from her mouth.

“So good though,” her words slurred slightly as she looked down at you sitting.

“How bout I go order you one then? Hm? How’s that sound?” you asked, standing up from your seat, her body now only inches away. She placed her hands on your lower back, as your hand came up to wrap around her neck.

“Sounds good,” she smiled, squeezing your waist gently before you walked over to the bar and got her one of her own.

What the two of you hadn’t realized is that Ice had caught the moment on camera. And it most definitely looked a little incriminating to the both of you. With Paige’s hand naturally resting so low on your back and your arm draped around her neck, to anyone it would appear the two of you are together. But, right now the two of you were blissfully unaware of it.

“One Dirty Shirley,” you announced to the girl as you handed her the drink, her arm falling right back to where they had been planted before.

“Thank you,” she smiled, taking a sip of the drink.

allies corner.

and if i told you i made this draft in may…

also maybe a part 2 where they find out that like ice caught them on live or something who knows

[sevi007]

Tales of the abyss part 8

YIKES how do you guys always find us

Also don't tell me that that "Mommy" of Arietta is the Liger Queen we killed? Uhoh...

I would kill this flamboyant man for a floating chair, I'm not even kidding.

... Is that why you are wearing that ridiculous collar. Errrr. How to say this, but does do not resemble rose petals at all

Hey uh... maybe I'm starting to hear things. But after that red-headed Orcale Knight sounded a lot like Luke, I now also think that this Sync sound like Ion with a tad a deeper voice.

(Again, not asking for clarification or spoilers. Just thinking aloud.)

Ah, you're still there! XD

Aaaah my party is at each other's throat again! Help!

To be fair, there is not party dynamique as of yet. Let me just look at these four here - Luke has no clue what's going on and his hunger for acknowledgement will probably server to make him do and believe ANYTHING someone who is kind to him will tell him. In this case, that's Master Van.

On the other hand, Tear is not divulging ANY information on what her mission was / is, why she is helping Maestro Mohs despite claiming she is neutral, and why she wanted to kill her own brother.

Jade knows much more than he says but is just watching this all unfold. It is Ion who steps in to stop any fighting, not him.

And Guy has something going on he is also not telling the team, and I think the Revenge part of it has something to do with Luke, or at least House fon Fabre.

Basically, nobody is on the same page here!

Did anybody else hear "One-winged Angel" start playing just now?

The same as Luke what? What did I just say about not sharing information with the team!

Yeah no, that's animal abuse. XD

(I assume many a player might consider this also a bratty part of Luke or some such. In that case - what does that make of the rest of the party, who never stop him? Not even Ion, who says Cheagle's are sacred. Just. Putting this out here.)

Side note: Just got the tutorial on Fonon changes. I still don't fully get it but that means I have to look out for those rings on the ground and circling over tehre? Oof. I'm mostly just hammering the attack and art button here XD

Omg here Mom IS the Liger Queen. This explains a lot. Aaaand we are in trouble.

@magicmetslogic

[miraculous-pyromaniac]

The Rooster miraculous wasn't intended for Marc

The vibe is just off, it doesn't make sense for Marc to have gotten this miraculous. Rooster Bold is awesome and his design is incredible, but what the fuck is Pretension? And why is this thing so crazy overpowered?

The word ‘Pretension’ has many meanings. Dictionary.com gives it’s noun form 8 different definitions and Merriam webster gives it 5. We’ll ignore the verb form of the word, which is somewhat architecture related and not relevant to it’s usage within Miraculous.

I think there’s 3 main things to consider when considering Pentensiont. 1- It’s a synonym for ambition, though it has a more negative implication. 2- It’s definition as a claim or assertion over something 3- It’s closely related to the word ‘pretentious’ A pretension is essentially a type of assertion or ambition that is rooted in pride or delusion. A desire for a goal without the knowledge or intention to work to get it. This interpretation of the word is clearly seen within Miraculous as the rooster’s power allows it to literally gain almost any kind of superpower immediately. The concept of the rooster miraculous is essentially the idea of privilege, the idea that you deserve to have something despite not working for it. That’s why the power seems so unbalanced. Just as privilege is unfair in the real world, the rooster’s power is unfair within the world because it’s user gets any power it wants while other users have to use what they have. It’s a perfect power to pair up with the idea of Pretension, in my opinion.

Now, obviously, privilege isn’t a concept that applies much to a boy like Marc Anciel, this shy queer writer kid, who has trouble making friends. He works hard on his comic with Nathaniel because he’s passionate about it. He had ambitions as a writer, sure, but he doesn’t believe he deserves success from it. Marc isn’t prideful or privileged, his personality doesn’t fit this idea of Pretension at all. So why choose Pretension as the concept? It’s definitely a more complicated idea than Subjection, yet the bee got reconned to fucking Action but the rooster got to keep it’s weird ass concept. Why not change it to ambition, or aspiration, or declaration, or whatever. Now I’m clearly putting more thought into this than any of the writers did, but to me the choice to use ‘Pretension’ specifically is strange. If they just wanted for Marc to have the ‘choose any power’ power due to him being a writer, there are many other concepts that could have been used to justify this sort of power. Here’s a list of alternate concepts I came up with after a few minutes of thought. Declaration Imagination Specification Assertion Decision Adaption Definition Ambition Aspiration Possession Dominion I-activate-my-trap-card-and-summon-my-blue-eyes-white-dragon-ion You get my point. The Rooster miraculous intentionally got a concept that has this negative implication of pride and privilege, yet was given to a queer side character who has self-esteem issues and is actively working hard for their comic book dream. It’s a strange disconnect between user and miraculous concept that is unlike any other miraculous wielder in the show. This concept is almost almost opposite of who the character of Marc Anciel is.

But then at the end of season 4, before we even saw Marc get to use the miraculous to any measure of it’s full potential, it and the rest of the miraculous are stolen by Gabriel. And as Monarch, miraculous is hardly used to great lengths by him. It was mostly used to grant himself flight or invisibility, though in the Miraculous Paris movie he uses it to travel to alternate dimensions. Now the mental gymnastics that had to be done to stop Gabriel from pulling instant win powers out of his ass every episode was… glaring, and also likely lies from the kwamis since they were never commanded to tell the truth and they let Xuppu explain things. When a being of Intuition allows the being of Derision to take the speaking roll, it betrays that there might be a specific goal there. It’s honestly one of my favorite scenes. I love Xuppu, but let’s not get off track. Clearly, the rules of this power weren’t well thought out. If a concept can’t exist twice, then why can the butterfly grant illusion powers, or grant Copycat a cataclysm power, or Volpina her illusion powers, Bubbler creates seemingly unbreakable bubbles that are similar to the Shellter power, Evilistrator has the exact same power as the Goat, Sapoties could multiply themselves, Style Queen and the dragon have basically the same power, Timetagger can time travel, Penalteam created a barrier, and Risk is just a frog-coded version of the Eagle’s power. Sentimosters also seem to be able to copy concepts, Fu’s sentimonster (AKA Feast) is immune to miraculous powers like the Ox, Mayura created Sentibug who could use ‘Senti-charm’, Lighteye could freeze people like the Bee’s power, Mega Leech does the exact same thing the mouse power does, Sentibubbler makes his bubble barriers, Strikeback is immune to miraculous powers like the Ox again, and Felix’s projector sentimonster creates their illusions. That ‘concept can only exist once’ thing is clearly hogwash, or it only applies to the Rooster and not the butterfly or peacock, which doesn’t seem likely.

To me, everything surrounding the rooster feels incomplete, disjointed from its place in the story in a way none of the other miraculous are. It’s power is this perfect compliment to the butterfly, the ability to grant powers to yourself rather than to others, that is just so underutilized in the show. It was one of the last miraculous to be revealed from the Motherbox and it was given to, I’m sorry to say, a not very relevant side character whose main plot relevance is being the romantic interest of one of the classmates. I love Marc, but of all the miraculous users, they are the least developed character. Marc just feels out of place with the rooster. It feels like it was given to them by popular demand from the fans. Given to him in the midst of Penalteam, where it wouldn’t get to shine as it had to share it’s spotlight with 2 other miraculous. Not to mention his hitherto unmentioned love and skill for football/soccer that justifies him being there. Rooster Bold, Caprikid, Miss Hound, and Minotourox were rushed and shoved into a single episode in order to quickly introduce them befor season 5.

Then at the end of season 4, Gabriel got hold of the rooster and other miraculous by means of Ladybug’s yoyo, and this powerful miraculous was heavily underutilized. Many fans have voiced grievances with this finale, mainly because it felt totally contrived. Gabriel being able to open the link to the miracle box doesn’t make sense since he’s not the guardian, the yoyo didn’t disappear when she de-transformed, Marinette had to retransform to get it back which gave Gabriel time to grab all the miraculous despite every other time we saw a de-transformation causing a miraculous tool to disappear(like the cane in s2 finale, Mayura.) The show broke it’s own rules to make this dramatic ending happen. The actions of the individual characters all make sense, but the rules are broken so it feels cheap. This seem off topic, but let’s move backwards and look at Risk. The idea of this akuma was amazing, a secret villain that makes everyone in paris take risks so that Shadowmoth can finally get an edge over Ladybug. A wonderful idea that leads to some crazy scenes during the episode, but what does it accomplish? It makes Marinette choose ‘Adrien’ to help her beat the villain by giving him, who is actually Felix, the dog miraculous, which was the used to steal Ladybug’s yoyo. Risk made Marinette feel the need to call a new Dog user, despite already having Sabrina. She had already called 7 established heroes to fight Strikeback, yet felt she she needed someone without the Risk mark, causing her to go to ‘Adrien’/Felix. Judging Marinette’s actions in Risk is difficult because her mind is literally affected by RIsk, and when she knows that she starts overthinking her actions and doubting herself at every step, all and all just a mess which is the point of Risk being created.

Let me lay my theory out. The Ox, goat, dog, and rooster miraculous were rushed into the show with Penalteam. Marc stands out in the hero team by both being a very minor character and not fitting the concept of his miraculous. Sabrina does fit her miraculous concept to a tee, Adoration is a perfect match for her, yet she was replaced by ‘Adrien’/Felix/Flaremidable in the s4 finale. The show breaks its own rules to give Gabriel all the miraculous for season 5. Throughout season 5, Gabriel heavily underutilized the Rooster despite it’s versatility. Season 5 sucked ass(In my opinion)

I think that there was a massive rewrite of reason 5, because everything about the use of the rooster and the writing of season 5 feels disjointed and badly written.

The whole point of the powers of the butterfly and peacock miraculous is that they can be used to grant basically any power, which makes it the perfect weapon for the villain of an episodic show like miraculous. Except, in season 4&5, the show becomes more narrative and less episodic, with badly executed plotlines running through the episodes. The Rooster’s ‘choose any power’ power fits the themes of the villains in this story way more than it does the heroes. In this show, our heroes Ladybug and Chat Noir fight an illusive, ever changing roster of villains with their unchanging and limited arsenal of powers, that's the entire premise of the fights of the show. Set limits versus constantly changing power. That idea completely breaks when Rooster Bold walks up and goes ‘I choose the power to always hit my mark’ and then chucks his pen which magically lasers in and breaks the akumatized object. It completely breaks the balance of the show. But, if the user of the Rooster was a villain, then it slots perfectly into the premise.

Pretension is ambition that is rooted in pride and privilege. It is assertions and claims that won’t be backed up or earned by action or skill. It’s the idea that one thinks they deserve something that they aren't going to put work into getting.

I think that the rooster was originally meant for Felix, and Rooster Bold was a relatively new idea.

I think the rushed nature of Penalteam was so that the 4 until then unused miraculous would be known about for this new version of season 5, which is the version we got. I think that season 5 was originally going to be more similar to season 4, with Caprikid, Miss Hound, and Minotourox being introduced in season 5’s episodes, and Shadowmoth still being the villain. I think that the original idea of Risk/Strikeback was that Marinette gave ‘Adrien’/Felix the Rooster instead of the Dog, and this choice would make sense since the rooster in this version would have yet to have had a holder and Marinette would be taking a risk by giving out this powerful miraculous. It's also a Risk because Adrien had failed as a hero before as Aspik. And after the battle, Felix would disappeared with the miraculous.

Now I can’t speak to what would happen after this, whether Felix would be an anti-hero or an anti-villain, which side he would be fighting on, or what his further intentions would be. Because the version of Felix’s story we got was likely very simplified for the season 5. Hell, I’m not even sure if the sentimonster plot would be the same. I hope it wouldn’t have been, that shit was stupid.

I think that this whole idea was taken out of the show in order to have the dramatic season of Gabriel having all the miraculous for season 5, an idea that I’m sure wasn’t the original intent of the series. I’m not sure if this change came from pressure from ZAG on the writers or from Astruc slamming his head into a brick wall at a few too many miles per hour. I can’t speak to how the original plot of season 5 would have gone because I’m just some random chucklefuck on the internet with too much time on their hands and this entire theory is based on the Rooster miraculous having the wrong vibes for a character i like.

TLDR My theory is that the original idea was for Felix to have the Rooster miraculous and that Penalteam rushed the other miraculous into the show in order to have the dramatic, badly written, season 5 that we got.

[cordelianewman]

Who: Cage Newman & Cordelia Newman ( @cagenewman )

What: After days of feeling 'off' Cordelia has to have a difficult conversation with Cage.

Where: The Newman Homestead

When: February 8, 2025

Warnings: below you will find conversations of pregnancy and brief mentions of eluding to anxiety.

Cordelia sat on the edge of the bathroom counter, fingers shaking as she held the pregnancy test in front of her. Was she really about to do this, was this really happening? Slipping off the counter she took the few moments to follow instructions before pushing herself back up onto the bathroom counter, bare legs swinging back and forth, as she glanced at the door that was locked. Things were still weird between Cage and Cordelia, were they improving? Slowly – but not anywhere what they were, which made this all the harder. Those few minutes felt like ions before there was no mistaking the two pink lines staring back at her, it was undeniable but very much real. Pregnant. The room felt heavy, the weight of all of this pressing down on her, and for a long moment it felt like she couldn’t move from the spot she was in – she could barely breathe. The last few days she had been feeling sick, the nausea coming in waves, mood swinging wildly from happy to pissed off to emotion with little to no warning that it was giving the blonde whiplash. One minute, as she held the test in her hand, Cordelia could picture her holding this baby snug in her arms all of it to come crashing down as she felt panic claw up her throat, remembering the conversation, no the fight with Cage just weeks before about him not being ready to do this. He wasn’t ready, so what did this mean now.

The conversation that built up to the argument into the fight replaying in her head as she set the test down on the counter, gripping the edge, taking a shaky breath. What should have been a happy moment for the blonde, was one that turned into a moment of dread. The point of taking this test was to prove her inner thoughts wrong, that it would be negative and she’d never have to tell Cage she had taken a pregnancy test. When you weren’t in a good place, a baby wasn’t meant to mend and stitch up the pieces that were cracked in that moment. They were just starting to attempt to figure their shit out again, find a rhythm to rebuild back to who she knew they were. It had been a bump in the road, all married couples had them, but this threw a whole different wrench into the plans. How would he react to this? Part of her wasn’t even sure she wanted to tell him, that added pressure worrying her it would break the fragile cracks that both of them were taking the time to fix.

But the two strong pink lines on the test next to her didn’t lie, and neither did the churning nausea in her stomach that continued to remind her why she had taken the test in the first place. Heart hammering in her chest as the weight of all of this washed over her, leaning back against the wall, eyes closed as she took a few breaths to steady herself. Normally, at this time, the the home was filled with the noises of the four children they were raising but it was silence, the boys having taken the girls to their dance classes early, a blessing at this point.

Swallowing hard, Cordelia wiped at the tears that had threatened to spill before sliding off the counter and grabbing the pregnancy test roughly off the counter. With one glance back in the mirror, seeing both a mixture of sadness and anxiety mixed with just exhaustion she shook her head and turned off the light before heading out of the bathroom and through the master bedroom.

It didn’t take long to find Cage, tucked among his office working on what she figured were projects he had lined up - - or maybe it was the stuff for her brother, did it really matter. “Cage?” She licked her lips before stepping into the office, “Cage, I need to talk with you before the kids get back from their dance class.” Trying her best to keep the urgency out of her voice.

Cordelia’s voice broke Cage out of his thoughts, stealing his attention from where he had been looking out the window of their office to the fields beyond their house, the woods beyond the fields, the towns beyond the woods. There were papers scattered across the desk, blue prints for Jason’s cottage, notes for a shed he was currently building for a long-time client that needed a little more storage place at their house, a few proposed historical society restorations that he was looking to take on in the summer, one slated for the fall that seemed promising. His thoughts were far away, and with his back to the door, he was almost relieved for the distraction, to be able to see his wife for a little while.

Things hadn’t really been that good between them; after the Gala, and that intense night that they had shared, he felt that they were at least heading in the right direction, working towards putting their pieces back together. She had sat with him on the couch to watch a movie, every now and then she wouldn’t pull away when he touched her arm, or kissed her cheek. He knew that they would get through this, that they would work things out, he would find a way to make it right, but he had to admit that every time that she entered the room, he still held his breath, hoping for her arms around him, her lips pressed to his. He hadn’t, though, been expecting this.

“Hey,” he turned from the desk, eyes moving over her face, as though trying to figure out what kind of talk it needed to be. She needed to talk about potentially buying a new pair of shoes? Something for school? Was something going on with one of the kids? Pushing the chair away from the desk, his brows knit together. “What’s up?”

Ripping off the bandaid was the best way to go about this, right? Not waiting, just putting it all out there, because they had to make plans and figure things out, they’d needed to tell the children - - especially the boys. Clearing her throat she stepped in a bit further, taking a shaky breath. “I’m pregnant.” Not giving him a second to respond as she moved towards the desk setting the pregnancy test down with the two lines that showed it was positive. “It’s positive, I’m pregnant.”

For a moment, he was silent, his gaze moving from Cordelia’s face to her hand to the test on his desk, the two little lines stark against the white paper that had yet to be scrawled or drawn on, standing out starkly, making him catch his breath. His first thought wasn’t disappointment or anger, and it wasn’t quite excitement or happiness. Cage’s first thought was that he had never seen a positive pregnancy test. He had four kids. There were some days that he didn’t think of them as anything but his kids, that it didn’t register in his mind that he should look at Colton any differently than he looked at Rosalyn or Cienna or Shawn. But he hadn’t actually been there when Maddie must have told Travis that she was pregnant with Shawn, fussed and fawned over a test as young lovers, happy to start their family. Colton’s mother had found out alone that she was going to have a baby, had tracked him down, but he had had never seen the test, had never gotten to experience what it must have been like to hold your breath and wait and pray and cry and pray again. He didn’t know the joy that Cienna had brought her parents when years after they stopped trying, she entered their life, loud and beautiful, shaking fingers from both parents as they embraced, sobbing on the bathroom floor, positive pregnancy test clutched in their palms. And despite the fact that he stayed up until four in the morning watching Bluey, that he had helped her reach some of her biggest milestones, changed diapers, offered advice with foods and big feelings, built swings and kitchens for her, he didn’t know what Cordelia had felt when she looked at that positive pregnancy test. Despite the fact that he had lived some wild, unruly years, that he had slept with people wantonly, that he had once been married, that he and Cordelia had talked about this, he had never, ever seen a positive pregnancy test.

Reaching one hand out, he very slowly, very deliberately moved to touch the test, but couldn’t bring himself to pick it up, fingers hovering just over the little lines before he dropped them into his lap. He didn’t need to ask the question, because he knew. It was that night, it had to have been that night. Intimacy hadn’t exactly been a regular thing; the boys were close, the girls kept them busy, before The Talk, as he had dubbed in his head, they had been lucky if they got to share a kiss before they fell asleep. A weight dropped into his stomach, heavy, a thick knot entangling his guts, squeezing the air from his lungs. Not like this. He hadn’t wanted it to happen like this, where the memory of making a child together, of conceiving a baby was pocket knives and busted lamps and anger and white, hot rage coursing through their veins. Of Cordelia taking a test alone in their bathroom, afraid to tell him, afraid to let him know what she was doing. Without saying anything, he leaned forward, resting his arms on his knees and blew out a breath, scrubbing his hands over his face and trying to steady his breathing.

Closing her eyes for a heartbeat of a moment, “I know you’re not ready but this is happening, I’ve felt sick for days.” Would he be mad that she hadn’t said anything to him about feeling sick and just overall exhausted? “But it’s real, I took this test in hopes it’d be negative and I wouldn’t even have to tell you anything.” There was no point in denying anything at this point. “But the universe has a really cruel sick twisted sense of humor I guess, and here we are. And I can’t even feel happy about it.” Blinking her eyes to keep any tears from spilling as she moved over and dropped into one of the chairs, leaning back in it.

Picking up his head as he heard her move across the room, he realized that his eyes were wet, wasn’t sure why. No, that was a lie. He knew why. He just didn’t want to admit to it. “You should have told me,” he said after a moment, brushing a hand under his eyes and picking himself up from the chair that he had been sitting on to cross the room to where she had dropped into the easy chair in the corner, seeming to sink back into the comfortable, worn leather. How many nights had she come into the office when he was working late, two cups of coffee, silently placing one down for him while she picked up a book and made herself comfortable? How many nights had he picked her up after she had fallen asleep, carried her to bed, kissed her forehead and told her that he loved her? He stood with his hands on his hips, a few feet from where she sat, his head spinning, mind running a hundred miles an hour, trying to grasp on to something, anything, figuring out what he was supposed to say, knowing that she wanted him to say something. He took a breath. “I’m not ready. You’re right.”

“So – what do we do?” Tired eyes glancing up at her husband.

“We have a baby, what else can we do?” He hadn’t missed a beat as he said it, shaking his head, filled with disbelief that he was even saying those words so soon after the fight in the kitchen that had tracked them both to the stairs. The one that had kept the house tense and the mood heavy for two weeks now. He had told her that he wasn’t ready, that it didn’t mean no forever, just no for right then and there, not yet, please not right this moment… when he had wanted to plead with her to just … give him more time. Someone up there had said no, you have two weeks, get ready. Your life is about to change. And it wasn’t funny, but Cage found himself laughing, tears springing to his eyes again as his arms fell to his sides.

He thought about Colton. About the way his mother had shown up at his front door, hand on the swell of her stomach, the words tumbling out, telling him that she was pregnant. He wasn’t ready then. But this was Cordelia, this was his wife. He wasn’t ready now, either, but did he have to be? For her? Almost instantly, his posture changed, face softening the tiniest bit. “I’m not going to stand here and tell you that I’m thrilled, or this changes everything for me – I’m scared. I’m upset that you didn’t tell me that you weren’t feeling well, that you took a test without letting me know that this was even a possibility, because I’m your husband, and I want to be there for these things, regardless of whether or not I’m ready,” stepping closer to her chair, he slowly knelt down so that he could be more at eye level with her, not wanting to tower over her as he spoke. “I’m not ready, but I wasn’t ready with Colton, either, and he mostly turned out okay, so…” drawing in a thick breath, he reached for one of her hands, holding it between both of his own. “I love you, and we’ll figure it out.”

The motion of him taking her hand, she imagined, was meant to be soothing, something to instill confidence back into her, but it didn’t. His words had the opposite effect. “I wouldn’t have told you not… not when you’re not even looking forward to us having a child. I had to do this for myself.” Cordelia didn’t care if it had been selfish, it was the only split second of miniscule happiness when she had read the test before it faded around her. Shifting her body, “And actually, no we don’t have to have a baby.” The words even surprising her as she pulled gently out of his grasp, them continually warring over what felt like a broken record she wished she could make disappear.

Momentarily taken aback when Cordelia said that they didn’t have to have a baby, Cage brought his hand up to run through his hair, scratching at his scalp and blowing out a breath of a sigh between his lips, “I’ll respect whatever decision you want to make, I just–” he cut himself off, stopping himself from saying it. ’I know how much you want this.’ And wasn’t that the truth of it? That she wanted a baby, and despite fear or worry or anything else, Cage knew that he would have this baby with her, without hesitation.

Another steadying breath, “This isn’t something I want to figure out Cage, this isn’t something that should be figured out. We’re adults, we’re not teenagers that made a bad decision in the back of his truck sixteen years ago.” Shaking her head, “I can get behind scared, but I won’t have this baby come in thinking he or she was unwanted, unloved, or because someone wasn’t ready.” Standing she started to pace the room, the clawing nausea returning and burning up her throat. “This baby deserves more than that, I knew you weren’t going to be happy but I can’t – I won’t have you doing this diplomatic “I’m your husband” honor code, Boy Scout, whatever you want to call it.” Was she angry, maybe, because what person wanted to find out they were pregnant by the person they wanted to spend the rest of their life with knowing they weren’t ready or didn’t want this?

There was a small flash of anger that filled Cage when she spoke, said that she wouldn’t have a baby coming into their world unwanted, unloved, dropping his arms to his side in defeat. “I’m not being a boy scout or following some honor code, Cordelia, I am – this is just a lot, I’m shocked, I’m surprised, we were careful, and I’m … trying to wrap my head around this and be supportive and find the right things to say, but I have not once thought to myself, ‘I can’t love this baby,’ and you know,” he stopped, taking a breath, realizing that his eyes had filled with tears that he angrily blinked away, because he didn’t want to be upset in that moment. “You know… damn well that the moment that they put her in my arms, I would give her the entire world because she is ours,” the last word was a whisper, before he took in a breath and closed his eyes, collecting himself before he let out a half laugh, shaking his head, “or he.” Drawing himself up to his full height, he took a more steadying breath and pinched the bridge of his nose, opening his eyes to look at his wife, echoing her words from earlier. “What do we do now?”

“I don’t know what happens next, other than making a doctors’ appointment, I guess.” For now that was all Cordelia could focus on, the steps of the same thing she had done when she had found out she was pregnant with Rosalyn. Confirm the pregnancy, do an ultrasound, make sure both mom and baby were good and healthy -- then well, guess it was as good as anyone’s guess.

DISCLAIMER: this para was written by Bri with a little help from Katie, and is for a personal / private plot! Although it involves a positive pregnancy test, there is no active pregnancy storyline continuing at this time, as a head’s up! xx

[songmingisthighs]

new album review?? opinions? best song is blind i think

i'm just gonna review the songs bc i haven't gotten my physical albums and ion wanna cry myself over the fact

i agree with you, blind is the best song of the album and siren is a close runner up for me. i can't listen to empty box bc then i'll cry and i've alr had a lot to cry about lately so it's bangers for me for now. shaboom is giving major xikers vibe and i kept going like 👀👀👀👀 my roady ass was twerking and sweating to it i thought wooyoung was possessing me for a moment

now regarding the title track, work. i feel like it was a bit too underwhelming as a title track. it didn't hit as hard as the previous title tracks even when compared to their earlier works like pirate king, answer, inception like when those came out it was a no brainer but this time ? kinda missed.

the mv was rather messy too. correct me if i'm wrong but the mv director was seong wonmo who's part of digipedi and i think he was trying too hard to recreate the comical sense of ateez's mv like the real (which was done by digipedi) but it just didn't work as well and they tried to distract us with san's tits like thank you so much but can we talk about pumping gas into an emu and seonghwa hatching from an egg like he's from a weird al yankovic parody ????

work would've been such a great b track to accompany blind but idk it's giving taco bell or del taco commercial and i've never even heard a non asian taco bell commercial. or an asian one at that. but i love their presentation, truly. had this been the equivalent of matz, it's you, youth, and everything mv (like a side mv) it would've been 10/10 but considering this is the title work... idk it didn't hit as much as crazy form, bouncy, or guerrilla.

overall, i think it's a solid album. genuinely 8/10. was it great ? yes. is it missing something ?? oh yes. there's this itching, gnawing thought that this ateez comeback is not so much ateez like it is ateez but like somewhere between 87-95%. i love their work but if i were to introduce someone to ateez, i'll show them something from the world era or fuck it i'll show them what got me into the fandom which is symphony no. 9.

the vibe was on but guys gays and gals let's not kid ourselves, we aren't vibrators.

[undertalerainbow]

My question out of curiosity is why they climbed the mountain or what led the 8 children to do so?

I would answer this with drawings but I’m busy with other things right now so I’ll just type one out.

Thank you for asking your question, and it is something we’ve thought of since creating these characters. We do have ideas ranging from fully realized to just general concepts we’d explore later in series after rainbow is over that explores the kids games.

I do not want to spoil much as if me and my writing partners get this far then I’d like to keep details vague, but I will give you an overview

Morgan and Percy’s both are supposed to mirror each other as they fight the most amongst the group; and the ones who usually clash the most are typically the most similar. They were both betrayed by people they knew, one by a family member and the other an authority figure, and were pushed in.

Nick and Rosemary are the simplest and least angst filled out of everyone and they’re the ones I’m most willing to spoil. Nick went down to find the best warriors within the mountain he had heard from his tribes legends to help them in a war against another tribe at the time. He instead found his ragtag group of orphans and formed his little group of rebels, being little menaces in the underground. Rosemary was pure chance as she came to the mountain to get some unique ingredients that would make a recipe that would save her grandmothers bakery, only to trip and fall. Read her poem page for reference as this was pure luck and fate to have happened.

Stella’s is supposed to be the most dark as she had just lost her entire family by the community turning against them and lost everything. Why did this happen? That’s the spoiler part. But she was in a skittish state already when she fell, thus was in fight or flight mode, which influences her choices in her game. Her character in rainbow is supposed to be akin to someone who went to jail and came out trying to be a better person.

Clover’s reason is already in their game, but the why is related to their sister whose concept art is in an older post. The reward money would’ve helped both of them to finally leave the situation that they were in (not spoiling what it is, but think about what it was like in America in the 1930s). The reason for adding a sister to Clover was to essentially explain why they’re even trying to leave the underground in the first place if there’s nothing for them to return to. So having that one reason gives a fun little conflict-ion that just giving them a straight up bad home life would not give it.

Frisk simply is curiosity killed the cat. Anymore would spoil a lot planned for Frisk so I’ll leave it there.

As for chara, we decided to do something different than what everyone else did which was suicide. Not saying they aren’t suicidal, but rather I made them quite arbitrary with their life. If they die, they die, if they live, they live, but god be damned they will not take anything lying down. Without getting too into spoil the whole lore we had with the older surface we have in place, Chara ran away even though it’d probably get them killed if they got caught. Knowingly or unknowingly, then fell down the mountain and met Asriel. This isn’t saying Chara is not depressed or suicidal or anything like that, but rather falling down the mountain was not an attempt.

And that’s everything I can say on the matter. Thank you again for asking! In the future tho, for anyone with questions, it’d be nice to not get some lore/spoiler heavy ones. Like can’t I get something silly like: “what cat everyone would be if they we’re turned into a cat for the day” or “*gives clover hot chocolate and headpats*” 😭😭😭. This is mainly me being silly saying this, you can ask whatever you want and I’ll answer to be best of my abilities with what is currently out.

Bye bye! 🩵🧡💙💜💚❤️🤍🖤

[dabratzchronicles]

Get To Know Me Tag Game!

thank yew tew the lovely @megamindsecretlair for tag me to join it and allat good shitty shits

i MAY get extra ion know we gone see

1. Were you named after anyone?

Yes actually, my mama alwayssss tell me how she use to tell me a story abt how she use to work at the schools and it was the cute lil girl with her name and said “imma name my daughter after you!” and boom, here i is!

2. When was the last time you cried?

i can not remember. im slow NEXTTT

3. Do you have kids?

to put it short, NAWL!! do love my niece n nephews but kids outta my cooter aint happening soon

4. What sports do you play/ have you played?

volleyball basketball love volleyball to death💕

5. Do you use sarcasm?

i use it too much idk even know when i do so sure!

6. What is the first thing you notice about people?

how their vibe is. i NEED a serioussssss vibe check before i continue, if i cant juh vibe witchu this aint gone work booboo!!

7. What is your eye color?

dark brown, but if you wanna see the pretty shit i gotta do it😁

8. Scary movies or happy endings?

both.

9. Any talents?

my toxic trait is thinking that i can sing like im mfkin toni braxton in the 90’s but my pen game throws down! so thats one of em

10. Where were you born?

Flint, Michigan! #freerio

11. What are your hobbies?

writing, reading, gaming (ps n mobile girlie) listening to music, sleeping, eating, watching shows (im currently on the godfather of harlem and im so hurt of this dude dying😭😭)

12. Do you have any pets?

i have a bad ass fuckin pitbull name Blade dats my son yawl i do love himmmmmm but he do be making mama wanna drink

13. How tall are you?

5’3. imma fuckin migdet yawl short, black n fat im gods favorite!!

14. Favorite subject in high school?

lunch! na im playing but id sayyyyy english bc i love to write fr

15. Dream Job?

i always wanted to be a actress. always have always will want to be, ill start off on tubi soon💋

uhhhhhh ion got nobody to tag hea so ill tag myself! @bratzmaraj

have a black ass day💋💫

[slydiddledeedee]

for those character asks: dist! 2, 8, 21, 22, and 25.

YESSSSS DIST......MY GUY OF ALL TIME

2. Favorite canon thing about this character?

It's so hard to choose....I think in terms of game canon the fact that he really does not give up and keeps surviving (sluriving, even) despite everything. In terms of overall canon including the bonus manga I really love his genuine affection for Anise...I think he sees a lot of himself as a former bullied kid in Anise age 11 getting bullied for being poor and being chosen as Ion's Fon Master Guardian. Love that he made Tokunaga for her I think it's a simple but excellent way of showing he is capable of change and has nuance to him!!

8. What's something the fandom does when it comes to this character that you despise?

Everyone wants to know about my rage and hate.....I think again (similar to the last ask I answered with an 8) I really don't like when Dist is oversimplified! He's got a pathetic streak a mile wide but he's also really, REALLY smart and he's got rage!!! He's got anger!!! If I had to pick one though I think it would be the genius thing I feel like it's often glossed over (especially when compared directly to Jade) that Dist is just as smart when it comes to pure numbers and though weaker in certain areas is also stronger in others (such as fontech)!

21. If you're a fic writer and have written for this character, what's your favorite thing to do when you write this character? What's something you don't like?

I LOOOOOOOOVE MAKING THIS BITCH BLIND. you know he is not wearing those glasses just bc of fonic sight or whatever he has PISS POOR VISION. JUST LIKE ME.

mmmm...i've written so much of him.....what is something i don't like....traveling? dist is the worst to travel with and i have to keep track of what outfits he's in for my own peace of mind

22. If you're a fic reader, what's something you like in fics when it comes to this character? What's something you don't like?

i like when people write him with depth!!! he has a lot of facets i like when people acknowledge that...conversely i don't like when they flatten him into one or two traits

25. What was your first impression of this character? How about now?

oh i loved him as soon as i saw him and my life was forever changed. now i can approach him with a lot more nuance and thought!!!

[k3boardsmashhhhh]

Top ten black splatband characters because I said so 😈

1. Maya and Kitamura from ink theory. Maya reminds me of the rnb singer mya and she gives off mixed girl vibes like look at dem locs. same with Kitamura she’s def a darkskin girl!! she got her little fro out and she’s just so cute

2. Warabi mid-pair/j bro is so crazy and bro is so real for that. To me warabi is def Japanese, Brazilian, and Trinidadian I love Warabi too much they’re so 2012 scene kid mixed with swag era. Plus bro always serves cunt like what white gender-fluid DJ can do that?? Exactly none of those octohoes.🗣️🗣️🗣️

3. Kuze from Hightide era. Kuze is black man idc. I feel like he would be Guyanese he’s just so pretty n fashionable and fun love him so much (hightide era please come home… please.)

4. Mizole and Tsumabushi from Wet Floor. Both of them got black t-boy swagger that’s unexplainable. Mizole has albinism while this dude neil is brownskin and too prove my point even further they both of them got 4c hair too cmon now we all know they black asf

5.Harmony/Paruko from The chirpy chips/ABXY My boo boo stinkaling HARMONYYYYYY!!!! I love Paruko a lot she’s so sillayyy (her being transfem and a sapphic Autizzy real) they r getting hit with my negrofication beam her ass is lightskin period

6.Murasaki from SQSQ/Front roe. Tbh so many of the sea urchins with black spikes or locs reminds me of textured hair therefore being black as hell to me (such as Spyke and murch) plus just like Paul Murasaki was the og black kid swagger now my boy got older and still kept that swag I see him

7. Paul from SashiMori. If this goofy lil mf had a voice it will forever be Darwin from tawog ion make the rules I’m sorry. Paul is such a cutie patootie but he def gives off that black swaggy kid vibe but also dusty ass ipad kid. Bros turning 15?? In splat3 I believe so I hope I’m right and we can finally see what he looks like after all these years🙏🏽🙏🏽

8. Kikura from C-Side. They are black period… KIKURA IS BLACK!!11 (ily kikura muah)

9.Fin bottom and Blow bottom from Bottom Feeders. Fin respectfully is Afro Scottish while blow is Afro Irish!! They are so real and silly

10. Mizuta Ahato basically Dedf1sh. They made damn near every octoling DJ black so my favorite blasian stud had to be on this list period

If you read allat thank you🫶🏽

[justawhimm]

you’re real

fandom: cyb//erp//unk 2077 summary: it's the first time he's really been alone with derry since she's been born. being the extrovert he is, though, he's losing his mind a little with the lack of people around to talk to. at least derry's a pretty good listener. this series explores the births of his four children and some moments of his parenting style toward each of them.

chapters: 2/8

content warnings: mention of alcohol use, mention of initial resentment toward an unborn children, mention familial issues

notes: Just a reminder that Derry isn't my creation! She's from the Cyb/erpu/nk TTRPG sourcebook known as Cyb//erGen//erat//ions, but has since been deemed noncanon. But! I liked the idea of her, so I'm writing about her.

Current Year: Early 2007 Kerry's Age: 19

cross posted on ao3

Being forced into a vacation wasn't necessarily how he was expecting the end of the tour to look like. … Ok, that sounded stupid as soon as he thought it out completely. Of course he would've had to have a break, regardless of whether he was still pregnant by the end of tour or not. Kinda inevitable and all of that. The part Kerry really hated and didn't expect to be an issue was the fact that he had to miss Nancy's wedding because he was fresh off giving birth and the idea of taking the baby on a plane sounded like a special kind of torture.

Nancy assured him it was fine. There wasn't much they could do about it. She insisted someone would record the ceremony, so he'd be able to watch it all with the rest of the band once everyone got back.

So, that left him. Alone. With his new daughter.

Derry Eur/ody/ne's birth had been all over the screamsheets for a while, unsurprisingly. What did surprise him was the fact that he'd actually decided to keep her. How? Well… fuck, he still wasn't totally sure yet. Just about a month postpartum, he was still struggling to figure out the details. There was a lot to think about. But honestly, he couldn't stand the idea of giving her to anyone else anymore. She was his. His tiny, insufferable virus. 

That sentiment had changed a lot over the weeks, though. He thought he was going to hate her from the moment he set eyes on her, but that was far from the truth of the matter. No, no… fuck, it really wasn't difficult to realize within just a few hours that he adored her. And much to the dismay of Johnny, he actually liked her name, too. 

What was so bad about it, after all? Sure, it was unconventional, but he thought it fit her pretty damn well. If she hated it, then whatever. She could change it when she got older. He didn't give a fuck. It was her life.

Back to the matter at hand.

For the first time since the day she was born, Kerry was alone with his daughter.

His bandmates and best friends were gone, off at the wedding. Probably getting drunk. God, he wished that was him. Kerry didn't really have contact with his parents anymore. Yeah, that was… mostly on him (Long story. He wouldn't dwell on it in his mind for long). That left him without anyone to rely on but himself.

It wasn't really like he was swimming in eddies, either. So hiring a nanny or something just wasn't an option. Hell, even getting any help from Johnny when he was home was almost impossible to attain. His kid, his problem, apparently. Guess he got that, yeah, but fuck. He would've hoped that maybe Johnny would have a single compassionate bone in his whole damn body.  Sometimes that was just asking way too much out of him.

Derry's little gurgles pulled Kerry out from letting his mind wander. Brown eyes trailed down to look at the baby girl on his chest, smiling at her slightly. That was one thing that kept him from getting too pissy with the idea of being a dad: the fact that she was so fuckin' cute.

"You sure sound like you're havin' a hell of a time," He remarked, pecking the top of her head. "Bet you're about as bored as I am, lil' Derry-Berry. All you've got ta do is eat, sleep, and shit. Can't even play with the toys your Aunt Denny got ya yet. Poor baby. Just… stuck with your dear ol' dad." Kerry sighed. He was beginning to feel ridiculous, talking to her like this. What was the point? Or maybe he was just so lonely and bored that he didn't give much of a shit.

"Ain't it pathetic, kid?" Kerry adjusted how he sat, his hold on her. He held her in a way where she was practically sitting at the end of his torso, his hands keeping her up and his fingers supporting her neck and head. It was hard not to smile at her, seeing her peer at him with those big eyes. "Dad's just… talkin' to you, but you don't really talk back. And I never really know what the fuck I'm doin'. Not like that's too much of a surprise, though. Don't think I ever know what I'm doin' in life. Your lolo and lola would probably already hate how I'm raisin' you, but… I'm doing my best."

Derry blinked at him, making a little "o" briefly with her mouth. She was so fuckin' cute, Kerry could hardly stand it. Bringing her closer, he'd press his lips to her cheek to make it squish against her face slightly. With that, he'd adjust how he held her again. He would let her lie back down in his arms, sitting himself up properly so he could look down at her.

"I don't think I'll do too bad… Doubt I'd be the worst dad in the world. Not by a long shot. I don't know who you're gonna be yet, but hopefully I'll instill a little bit of patience in that cute baby face of yours! 'Cause trust me, you'll need it when it comes to me. I'll get it eventually. You just might need to sit my ass down and tell me how it is sometimes. Yeah. Yeah… Just have some faith in me, Derry. I know I was a piece of shit while you were doing all your growing shit, but I wanna do right by you. I might still act like an asshole sometimes, but I promise I love you."

But that wasn't enough, and Kerry knew that. As much as he knew his parents loved him, they didn't give a shit about what he wanted. It was out of caring, out of love, but it'd caused more damage than anything else. Kerry never wanted that with Derry.

"I wanna listen to you. I want you to love me, too."

[hiranandanihospitalpowai]

10 Fast Facts About Your Kidneys | Hiranandani Hospital Kidney Transplants

We all know that our kidneys are an amazing organ, and we must always take care of them. Our bodies depend on these bean-shaped organs to maintain our health. CEO of Hiranandani Hospital, Dr Sujit Chatterjee, says proper kidney knowledge is important to lead a healthy and happy life. Even a small problem in your kidneys can harm you. We’ll learn 10 quick facts about your kidneys in this article, so let’s start immediately.

Fact 1: Location and Size

Let’s start with the basics. Your kidneys are situated just below your ribcage, one on each side of your spine. They might not be the largest organs, but they are essential. Each kidney is about the size of your fist, and they work tirelessly day and night to maintain your body’s internal balance.

Fact 2: Filtration Masters:

One of the primary jobs of your kidneys is filtration. They filter your blood to remove waste products and excess substances, turning them into urine. On average, they filter about 120 to 150 quarts of blood daily, producing 1 to 2 quarts of urine.

Fact 3: Regulation of Blood Pressure:

Kidneys also play a necessary role in regulating your blood pressure. They help control blood pressure by adjusting the amount of water and salt in your body. When there’s too much salt, your kidneys remove it, helping to lower your blood pressure. This process helps keep your heart and arteries healthy.

Fact 4: Red Blood Cell Production:

Surprisingly, your kidneys are involved in the production of red blood cells. They release a hormone called erythropoietin, which encourages the bone marrow to make more red blood cells when your body needs them, like when you’re in high-altitude places or lose blood.

Fact 5: Balancing Electrolytes:

Electrolytes are minerals in your body that help maintain various functions, such as muscle contractions and nerve signalling. Your kidneys play an important role in keeping these electrolytes in balance. They help regulate the levels of potassium, sodium, calcium, and phosphate in your bloodstream.

Fact 6: Detoxifying the Body:

Pollution, as well as specific foods, can cause toxins to build up in your body. By filtering out harmful substances, your kidneys help your body detoxify. The detoxification process is carried out by the kidneys, which additionally help maintain general health, making them your body’s natural cleaner.

Fact 7: pH Regulation:

The pH level of your body is essential for maintaining health. Your kidneys help in controlling the pH of your blood. To keep a healthy pH balance, they release hydrogen ions and reabsorb bicarbonate ions. This balance is necessary for proper enzyme function and metabolic processes throughout your body.

Fact 8: Kidney Stones:

When specific minerals and salts dissolve in your urine, kidney stones can form. These small but uncomfortable stones can hurt and require medical attention. By getting enough water and consuming your diet, you can avoid getting these stones.sm If you ever go through the painful suffering of kidney stones, you’ll develop a greater appreciation for the daily work of your kidneys.

Read More: What Makes Dr. L. H. Hiranandani Hospital the Best Kidney

Fact 9: Common Kidney Disorders:

Kidneys can face various challenges, including infections, kidney disease, and kidney failure. It will benefit you if you detect it immediately and take proper care. Also, it would help if you get regular check-ups done with your healthcare provider. Knowing the signs of kidney disease can help you seek treatment as soon as possible, possibly avoiding more serious difficulties.

Fact 10: Lifestyle and Kidney Health:

Lastly, your lifestyle choices significantly impact your kidney health. Maintaining a balanced diet, staying hydrated, limiting alcohol intake, not smoking, and managing conditions like diabetes and high blood pressure are essential to keeping your kidneys in shape. These lifestyle choices are not just beneficial for your kidneys; they contribute to your overall health.

Conclusion:

Your kidneys are the invisible warriors who keep your body functioning normally by carrying out various tasks. You can fully appreciate the importance of your kidneys by being aware of these ten quick facts about them. A small investment in your general health can be made by taking care of your kidneys through a healthy lifestyle and routine checkups. So remember that your kidneys deserve a little extra care and love.

If you are late to read this and have damaged your kidneys, you can still have a chance to live the same life again by having the Hiranandani Hospital Kidney Transplant Services, which will take you an essential step towards a healthier, happier life by prioritising kidney health.

[savaphro]

Craziness that Chester Bennington died 5 years ago. After playing his last show that he sang his heart out. Battling depression, being Hispanic; when people are like “just be happy” & they don’t understand it’s an everyday battle of fighting against your own mind. For what seems like 24/8 a constant internal battle. Always fucking with you. Some days I still lose, some days I shut down completely, I cover it up with jokes to coupe, I’m not perfect. Today is hitting me like a brick wall showered with a ton of crazy emotions, most of them happy. Growing up listening to him saved my life tho, when I felt I couldn’t confide in anyone or that no one could possibly understand my pain inside. He sang about soo many things I identified with. When I genuinely thought I wouldn’t make it past 26( with no relationship, no children, and never thought of marriage)… & now I’m 28, I’m in the healthiest relationship I’ve ever been in, I got married this morning @10am, we’re getting a car next week & we’re talking about creating a child&house??(WHICH ITS FUCKEN NUTS TO BEGIN WITH CAUSE ION EVEN WANT KIDS LMFAO) I used to want my family tree to end with me because of the SPICY memories (traumaLOL)

I think this is a beautiful chapter beginning for me& I’m fully immersing myselfff. I wish I could tell tiny me this would be my story so it wouldn’t hurt so much along the way. My brain is mush I’m so happy

[intotherumiverse]

ship your moots !!

I’VE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS ONE!! TURN IT UP

I got everyone of my mooties in clutch <3 p = platonic

Edit = this is so long I can’t. I have everyone that are my mooties (or I think that are my mooties) and I hope y’all like ‘em. They took so MF long

@katsumiiii + aomine daiki — cocky girlfriend with even cockier boyfriend. They’re playful banter is god-teir and for what? Daiki tries so hard for mira and she just plays it off. @katsukissy + bakugou katsuki — it’s >:) + >:/ moxie is such a menace to society and Bakugou is just taking it. plus they’d be such a power couple I can’t @koishiguro / @lvrgrlkoi + kise ryota — but like whipped boyfriend + “I don’t give two shits ‘bout your little fan club” girlfriend. kise tries so fucking hard for koi’s attention it’s funny. and she’s just 🤨 you done the entire time. @artof-apollo + p! denki kamanari — they the 2 pretty best friend. They are also crackhead x crackhea, with rare smart boy moments <3 @spike-this-ass + gojo satoru — dumb himbo boyfriend with secret smart partner <3. They’re the 🙄 +🤨. Gojo getting into the dumbest shit ever and Sunni’s just like “okayyyy? Tf you want me to do about it?” @myhoodacademia + power — cocky gf + cocky gf. Dee’s just like “I know you love me and power refuses to acknowledge the hint of the fact. But anyone else look at dee, she’s drop kicking someone

@lilsparkyswife + armin arlert — himbo + bf who tries to keep himbo safe. Von’s getting into the dumbest shit ever and armin’s just there like “ 🤨 didn’t I tell you fighting eren is never a good idea?” @katsuflossy + shiggy — I mean I guess he loves her. With them puppy dog eyes he makes everytime he want sum it has to be love. Ni on the other hand is just like 😐 tf you want now?

@noirstoxin + p! itadori — “yo ita. Try feeding sukuna hot sauce and see what happens” enough said.

@solar3lunar + megumi — quiet kids in the library vibes (even though nova isn’t really quiet per say) but megumi loves he and her antics. Would take on cafe date

@minruko + mirio togata — them nigh as would be so loud together I can hear it from here. Mini’s just daring Mirio the stupidest shit and Mirio’s like “okay!! I’ll do it for you <3”

@combat-wombatus + kirishima ejiro — soft gf + even softer bf <3. They are so sweet to everyone around them it’s crazy. Also parent couple me thinks!

@yuujisbby + itadori yuuji — dumb bf + smart gf. Ita’s doing the dumbest shit to impress Sasha and sash is trying to not let himself get himself killed by not letting him do the dumb shit

@bubblime + sukuna — it’s just overexcited gf + tired bf. Bubs is always down for anything and sukuna is the tried boyfriend telling her to come take a nap with him

@silkylious + shoto todoroki — analyst couple ; y’all can’t do anything around them unless you want to be roasted in the most blunt way. Just “is that why you make your daddy issues your whole personality? 😐”

@mypimpademia + taiga kagami — OKAY HEAR ME OUT BUT juice and taiga would make sense. Over excited bf with bf who’s seen it all. Will hit him if he over worked himself. also matching necklaces??? Yes.

@kunikida-kun + keigo tamaki — show off bf + ion care gf. He tries soooo mf hard just for rei to give him a blank stare and continue on with her day. @whipped-cream-writings + bokuto. Softest couple ever. Matching jersey hoodie and cafe dates before practice. @dragonsdreamoffire + shinra (fire force) — himbo + soft girl <3. Shinra loves dream with his soul and never leaves a mission without giving her a kiss @fatgumshoneybun + joker (fire force) — cocky bf with confused/shy partner. He tries so hard with princess and they’re either too confused or sleepy to make head or tails about it. They have the most amazing cuddle seshs though.

@tobi-momo + kageyama tobio — they’d be perfect together. Do doubt. kags always a stuttering mess when momo is in a 5 mile radius of him and it’s so cute I can’t

@angiebug101 + kirishima ejiro — himbo +even bigger himbo. They sound like they‘re on drugs half the time but they love each other. Always taking photos together.

@xetou + aki (chainsaw man) — she broke through him and now he’s stuck with her for life. He doesn’t even know how or when they got together in the first place. Xetou just popped up

@vilbabywritess + bakugou — angry boy with angrier girl. Vil will not hesitate to fuck Bakugou up but they in love I guess.

@lvvrboy + denji (chainsaw man) — seven will fuck over Denji so much he has to fall in love with him. The himbo is so clingy for him is terrifying

@sanemiya + sanemi — angry boy + soft girl. They are legit the “I hate everyone but you” trope and it’s so cute. Miya the only one he listens too with no doubt

@moonlit-xio + p! Denki — it’s the way he’d bully her with love for me. But they would scrap in the streets for some griot no doubt

@kazescartier + genos (opm) — confused bf with chaotic gf. With kaze’s high paced energy she needs someone to mellow her tf out. Genos <3 @myamuraaa + Shindou (Bnha) —flustered sim is the only way to go and shindou has no restraints with that. Also they would come through with the matching fits . @sassi-sunflower + p! Mina — the most chaotic pair ever and I’d love it so much <3

@mads-fairy + kenma — loud gf + quiet bf. Kenma is always so confused on how Maddie has so much energy while after talking to one person he’s drained. But he knows how to settle maddie down

@oikawaplssteponme + hanta sero — they are so flirty and lovey to each other it’s disgusting. They’re are always touching in some way shape or form and kisses are frequent with them

@sobaluvr / @katsupremacy + hitoshi Shinsou — :| + >:) Shinsou is so tired of theo’s antics it hilarious. But like the banter and funny quips? Hand them over to me now!

@fuckasslesbian + p! Bakugou — they’re are menaces to societ when put together. Enough said

@reject-human-return-to-elefante + tenya iida — >:) + :^). They’re a really good match, the right mix of chaos and sameness?? Tenya is so calming for Bat it’s insane. @tododekukisses / @tomiokariceballs + Metal bat — angy couple. They fits? Immaculate ✨✨✨. Will fuck up anyone and everyone. @hvnlymha + shoto todoroki — soft couple ever. They are so cute with each other. Soft kisses and rain shower dates

@miashimaa + denki — the most chaotic, off the hinge, high as fuck couple ever. It‘s a walking dumpster fire and they love it. @vodrea + Reo Mikage — Drea is a clingy mess and Reo loves it. They are so cute together and it’s full of loving looks and kisses @cloudytamaki + tamaki (Bnha) — soft nervous couple. Picnic dates, and late night star watching for them <3 @izukulus + izuku midoriya — match made in heaven. the cottagecore vibes in this are amazing, and they’re so MF cute I can’t @kozumeslove / @kozu-zumi + kenma — soft gf and soft boy >:3. Cat cafe and roller skating dates galore <3 @morosis-haze + neito monoma — asshole + snarky gf. They’d be at each others throat’s 25/8 and it’s so funny to watch it @cubbluv + Mirio — he’s so softtt??? And for what??? Sorry but they’d be a top tier couple @r0manz + yui (Bnha ; class 1b) — it’s legit 😩 + 😐. Roman simps so hard and yui doesn’t know how to react to it. She’s really soft and hate when Roman flirts with anyone else @izukxnnie + Tamaki amajiki — they’d be so cute together. Love letter in lockers and holding pinkies in the hallways omg @rosetheshapeshifter + Bakugou — rose is drop kicking this MF ever, punting him across the fields and having a smaller the entire time @ickyjiki + dabi — the “I hate everyone but you“ trope on clutch with them two. His gaze is softer around Juno and she loves it <3 @ryuvanaka  + denki — friends to lovers trope? Denki is so whipped for yves I can’t. Denki just fizzled out whenever they’re near it’s crazy. @shotos-noodles / @kuroos-ramen + kuroo — the science flirt jokes he would use to try and bag zay. And she’s laughing at his nerdy self. Best couple I say @asaincy + Shoji — Shoji is so nervous around quincy it’s insane. He tries to flirt but it’s so funny. But quincy is so head over heels for him it doesn’t matter. @dollops-of-delusion  + Izuku — Analyst power couple. Delusion knows so much it’s insane and paired with Izu? Off the walls

[crystalline1206]

The Rifle

Chapter 2 “Shootouts and Ladders”

Title: The Rifle  Pairings: Mandalorian x F!Reader Rating: E (for language, sexual situations, No YOUNGLINGS lurking where they shouldn’t) Setting: Before Season 1 (briefly), before Season 2, leading into Season 2 eventually, slower burn. Summary: You always believed that trouble had a knack for finding you... You just never realized what trouble really meant until you met him. — “Why did you help me?” “...You looked like you needed your rifle,” Warnings: Age gap (LATER) Older man/younger woman, explicit sexual scenes and sexual situations leading up to it after chapter 8

Word Count: 2310 A/N: Hello! Welcome to my first story I actually have a plan for! I fell down a deep dark Mandalorian hole and I plan on making a living here. So sit back, relax, and enjoy! If you have any pointers or tips feel free to send them my way, but please, be kind! Banner inspired by @valkblue​

This story takes place 10 years before Mando and Baby Yoda leave Nevarro as a clan of 2. I did some quick math and estimated that Din was born around 3251 LY / 26BBY which is a few years before the clone wars and therefore he is around 35 years old when The Child is found in 3286 / 9ABY. All that said, Mando is in his mid 20’s to your young teens and any and all romance will be much much later. P.S. Yena is a play on y/n, thought it’d be a clever way to handle that!​

Chapter Summary:  Trouble is a friend... or foe.

It was starting to look like trouble was going to be a friend of yours now.

Stars above, what were you even doing? You were just some kid, he was a freaking Mandalorian, he didn’t need your help... he had to be working on a plan in that little house he was holed up in, and his crewmates will get tired any moment now! The sounds of blaster fire were getting louder and your feet still hadn’t stopped moving, reality had begun to set in, you were really about to dump your skinny 15 year old butt into the middle of a shoot out for a complete stranger. Your slightly hysteric laughter rung in your ears as you turned onto a side street closest to the square.

You ducked into a small corner and fumbled with the ammo box as you loaded the gun, then leaned back harshly against the wall trying to calm your frantic heart. With a final grunt you turned and looked up, the best way to use an Amban sniper rifle was to use it the way the name suggested, by being a sniper. Snipers had vantage points, and good aim... and you, well, you had the vantage point as you stared up at the tallest building in town. Nevermind that the closest thing to a rifle you had ever shot with was for pest control purposes with the krayt dragons that came over the ridge, or that you had no real means of scaling this building to the roof.

“Come on out, Mando,” you heard someone cry out in a singsong voice, “Just give us the bounty money and you can make it out of here alive... or not”

You needed to hurry up.

You ran around the building and found the pegs the maintenance people used to attach their ladders to get to the roof access. Quickly, you managed to climb up and crawl your way over to the ledge, propping yourself up as much as possible without exposing yourself as you cocked the rifle. Your hands were sweating so much you thought they’d drop the damn thing over the edge. You peeked into the scope and found the instigators of the shoot out. You fingered the trigger and... faltered, letting out a shuddered breath. You knew what Amban rifles did, they were essentially T-7 ion rifles, they disintegrated people. Were you really about to shoot this thing? Even if it was at bounty hunters, you’d never shot at a person, only animals, and only when they got too close to town. You felt bile rising up into your throat until you heard the loud sound of metal clanging, you looked down scope quickly to find that they had dragged the Mandalorian out of the house and had blasters aimed at his helmet. You reacted before the thought caught up to you and fired.

The recoil dug the gunstock into your shoulder and you winced, but your eye never left the scope. You had managed to hit one of the stragglers in the corner and now they were looking for you. Well shit. You  fired repeatedly, feeling slightly guilty about wasting ammo, and getting one of the hunters in the back that wasn’t moving. You watched them scramble to look for you while you shot cover fire for the Mandalorian. Then, you had the honor of watching the Mandalorian take action as he used your distraction to his advantage. You never knew a man in armor could move the way he was, it seemed like all he needed was just to reduce the number of people firing at him from five to three. Now that he was moving though, it was getting harder to shoot without the fear of accidentally vaporizing him. You backed away from the scope to see everything that was happening, only to duck with a scream when a blaster shot nearly seared your ear off.

“I found you, little sniper,” You clutched at your tunic trying to catch your breath. You hadn’t really thought this far into the plan. Sure, the idea that they could have found you had crossed your mind, but now that you were here you were scrambling yet again. You peeked over the edge only to see a Toydarian pointing a blaster your way.

“There you are, little one,” In that moment, you hoped to never stare down the barrel of a blaster again. You waited for the shot... that never came, since the bounty hunter just keeled over in a smoking heap before he could. You nearly passed out in relief, your body slumped against the ledge and your fingers creaked as you released the gun from your grip.

“Whoever you are, come out before you end up like the toydarian,” A cold modulated voice washed over you and you realized that maybe you weren’t as safe as you had assumed.

“P-p-please, don’t s-shoot. I just wanted to h-help,” You stood slowly and turned to face the Mandalorian staring up at you.

The silence was deafening as you both just stood and stared at each other from across the square.

“You’re that kid from the store,” You could feel his sigh more than you could hear it, “What the hell are you doing kid? Why did you help me?”

“... You looked like you needed your rifle,”

Nailed it.

There was a tense silence that followed your little exchange with the Mandalorian, his visor boring into your soul you assumed... or he was wondering what he had done wrong in his life to be staring down a dumb teenager after a blaster fight with his own crew. Finally, he looked away to the side and you followed his gaze towards the ship now soaring off into the atmosphere.

Oh.

That was  his crew, or what was left of them, leaving him... in Kal’Tava. He swung his head around to look at you right as you were looking down at him, making you jump and look away at having been caught.

“Come on down, kid,” He turned away to rummage through the clothes of the disintegrated and the dead mercenaries, “And bring my rifle,”

“Umm!” You watched his shoulders slump before he turned marginally your way, as if to say ‘what now?’

“I... I can’t get down. I scaled the building using some pegs and I don’t think I can get down like I got up...”

You watched the sun glint off his beskar helmet as he looked up at heavens. He turned fully towards you and walked closer to the building, gesturing for you to come to the edge before opening his arms.

“... You’re joking... I am not jumping off this building and into you ‘waiting’ arms!” Your voice was shriller than you had intended, but he could not be seriously expecting you to risk you life... You knew, you just knew he had to have been giving you the smuggest look right then as you realized that you technically already had risked your life for him. He gestured at you with his hands again, as if to say that he didn’t have all day.

“If I die, you better at least pay my family compensation for dropping their best mechanic,” You deadpanned.

“Just jump,”

You just stared into the empty visor, giving him a deep sigh as you held his rifle up above your head, closed your eyes, and shrieked as you hopped off the ledge.

Your family’s shop got enough travelers that you got to hear some ‘fun’ stories from pilots and the like about how your life would flash before your eyes as you died, or that falling out of the sky happened both faster and slower than you imagined it would. You hadn’t really understood that concept until this moment, as you simultaneously felt like you had been falling for 10 years but also only for 10 seconds. Until you felt the solid hit of metal armor digging into your side. You opened your eyes hesitantly and looked up at the Mandalorian currently holding you in his arms, while you held his rifle with stiff arms above your head.

“... I don’t ever want t-to do that a-again,” you whispered harshly to yourself as you climbed down from his arms.

The Mandalorian looked at you expectantly, and you realized you still held his rifle in your hands, quickly depositing it into his and stepping away. You straightened your clothes and beaded hair before turning towards the Mandalorian again. Your neighbor had said he had gotten hurt saving Ravi, but you didn’t see anything particularly wrong. He had caught you fairly easily, though it’s not like you were particularly tall or heavy.

“You saved my sister, during the shootout. They said you got hurt. Are you... are you hurt?” He looked over his shoulder at you as he pocketed ammo and money from the dead bounty hunters.

“I’m fine,” You dug a soft booted toe into the dirt as you looked over the square. The silence stretched again before you mustered up some more courage and spoke again.

“... They took the ship...” You guessed his sigh must have been particularly annoyed for his modulator to have picked it up so loudly.

“Clearly,” He grumbled.

“... My father, he has a ship. It hasn’t been used in... ages, really. Some military deserter dumped it here and my dad has been working on it,” At this the Mandalorian finally turned around and looked at you, his helmet tilted slightly to the side. You had never felt more like a small animal being studied by a predator than in that moment.

“... What? Look I’ll be honest, this thing with the silence is very unsettling, and I can’t tell where you’re looking, and I have been through a lot today, so you can imagine the kind of stress I am under,” You eyed him warily and after a couple of minutes he finally released you from his gaze as he walked past you.

You sighed in relief and gave yourself a moment to pat yourself on the back, figuratively, and pat your chest to slow your racing heart, literally. Then, you turned on your heel and scurried after the jingle of metal that had just turned the corner. You fell into step with the masked bounty hunter, glancing at him from the corner of your eye every couple of steps.

“So...” You watched his helmet to see if he was listening, “How old are you? You seem young, but you could also be like... 40. It’s hard to tell with all of the armor, which I guess, is kind of the point,”

You were sure that his tense silence would be something that would follow you for the rest of your life. You nearly kicked yourself, a whole slew of questions to ask and you had picked that one. You wracked your brain for another question that was vastly less intrusive, but you were coming up short.

“... I’m not 40,” He finally answered, you weren’t sure if you were relieved by it or not.

“Oh, that’s... good?” You could have literally swallowed your own tongue at this point and felt like it would have been to sweet a mercy for you. There were still ten minutes left on this little walk and by the moons, you were going to salvage this. You heard a modulated sigh, which was starting to become an expected response for every instance that you decided to opened your mouth.

“I’m 25,” He glanced at you pointedly.

It seemed like the Mandalorian was more merciful than you had anticipated to give you a legitimate answer. You smiled softly to yourself, maybe “Mando” just had a soft spot for kids.

Your father had been reasonably livid when the Mandalorian had turned up at the store with you in tow, since you had snuck out into a fire fight with a Mandalorian’s rifle. You were prepared for the punishment, even if it hadn’t dawned on you just how much trouble you would be in when you got back. Nevertheless, you were ready as you stood next to your father, your arm in his grip as he lowered his original price in thanks for protecting both of his reckless daughters.

“This one,” You blinked up at the T-visored helmet as he tipped his head towards you, “She’s a good kid, good aim. Don’t be too hard on her,”

Your father gave you a look as you bowed your head in embarrassment, before looking back at the Mandalorian. He had ended up paying the original price, and they were now finishing up their transaction. You peeked up at him again as he shouldered the bag of ammo he had requested, but before he was able to turn and walk out you reached out and gripped his sleeve.

“Ah, wait! Baba, Mando’s crew turned on him and left him stranded here! I thought we could sell him that old patroller in the shipyard?” You looked up at your father shamelessly.

You were already in a galaxy’s worth of trouble, you might as well keep your word and bring the idea up since the Mandalorian didn’t seem like he was going to.

“Yena! ”

“What? He needs help! And he saved Ravi!” You ‘subtly’ winked at the Mandalorian still trapped in your grip.

“It’s an old Razor Crest, real sweet ride. Baba’s got it all tuned up and it hasn’t really flown in like ages. I bet Mando here could get some good use out of her!” Your father looked down at you like he couldn’t believe you were really speaking right now.

“... How much are you asking for it?”

You were sure that your father’s sigh had been heard across the galaxy.