#it’s the same w crystals for crafting

[impossible-rat-babies]

at this point I’m doing DT prep for two people 🧍‍♂️

[goldfades]

in her younger days, they called her delta dawn; prettiest woman you ever laid eyes on

⟢ ┈ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 8.7k

⟢ ┈ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | (requested: Paige Bueckers x Dallas Cowboy Cheerleader reader since she might be going to the Wings) when paige is drafted to the dallas wings, she knows her life is about to change, but she doesn’t expect you. as a dallas cowboys cheerleader with your own set of rules and boundaries, the last thing you need is a distraction—especially not in the form of the star wnba player who seems to turn every gaze in the room. but as the season progresses and paths cross under the texan sun, paige's world of fast breaks and buzzer-beaters collides with yours, leaving neither of you the same.

⟢ ┈ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | fluff! paige teasing the hell out of reader, description of homophobia, the dcc being sweet(? whoa), one mention of man flirting w reader (EUGHHH), nothing else!

⟢ ┈ 𝐞𝐯'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 | here's 8k of a tease!paige fic for yall... i hope yall forgive me for the last 3 soulcrushing fics 🫶🏼😘

You’ve always said you’d never date an athlete.

It’s a rule born of practicality, not bitterness. Athletes move fast—on the court, on the field, and in life. Your job as a Dallas Cowboys Cheerleader already demands a fine balance of composure and charm. The last thing you need is the whirlwind of someone else’s high-stakes career bleeding into your own meticulously crafted routine.

But tonight, standing under the hazy glow of the American Airlines Center lights, that rule wavers.

You’re here for one of those PR crossover events—a meet-and-greet between the Dallas Wings and the Cowboys organization, complete with forced smiles and photo ops. It’s the kind of gig you’ve done a hundred times, one where you’re used to being admired at arm’s length by players who rarely look past the sparkle of your uniform. You’re used to their lingering glances, their empty flirtations, and their assumption that you’ll fall in line with the rest of their carefully constructed narrative.

Paige Bueckers doesn’t look at you like that.

You notice her the moment she walks in, an air of effortless confidence preceding her like a tidal wave. She’s all sharp cheekbones and easy laughter, blending seamlessly into the room while somehow standing apart. Her presence feels unintentional, like she didn’t mean to be so magnetic but couldn’t help it anyway.

You try not to stare, but when her eyes catch yours—crystal-clear and curious—you know you’ve already lost.

"You're with the cheerleaders, right?" she asks, her voice low enough to feel like a secret, despite the bustling crowd around you. There’s no pretense in her tone, no undercurrent of ego or assumption. It’s disarming, the way she asks like she’s genuinely interested, not just making small talk.

"That’s right," you reply, lifting your chin with practiced ease. "And you’re with the Wings."

Her smile tilts, and for a fleeting moment, it feels like you’re the only two people in the room. "Guess that makes us teammates now. Sort of."

You tell yourself it’s just a conversation. Just an introduction. But deep down, you already know—it’s the kind of beginning that doesn’t let you walk away unchanged.

The noise of the event fades into the background, dulled to a steady hum that makes it easier to focus on Paige’s voice—and the way she leans just slightly toward you, as if shielding the moment from the room around you.

“Teammates, huh?” you reply, arching a brow and forcing a practiced indifference into your voice. “I don’t know if standing in the same room counts as teamwork.”

She chuckles, low and warm. “Guess we’ll have to work on our chemistry, then.”

It’s a simple remark, delivered with the kind of ease that shouldn’t make your cheeks feel warm. But it does, and the sensation creeps up faster than you can stop it. You glance to the side, pretending to check on one of your teammates who’s caught in a conversation with a reporter, but the smirk on Paige’s face tells you she’s already noticed.

“You’re blushing,” she says, not bothering to hide her amusement.

“No, I’m not.” You shoot back quickly, the denial sharper than you intend. You straighten your posture, willing the heat in your face to cool. “It’s warm in here. Lights and all.”

��Sure,” Paige says, drawing the word out like she doesn’t believe you for a second. Her grin widens, and she takes a slow sip of her water, somehow managing to make even that look like a calculated move.

You cross your arms, trying to steady yourself. “Do you always do this?”

“Do what?”

“Flirt with strangers at PR events.”

Paige lets out a soft laugh, her head tilting slightly as she considers your words. “Only the ones who pretend not to notice.”

The nerve of her. You fight the urge to look directly at her, keeping your gaze focused on the crowd instead. “I’m not pretending anything.”

“Right. And you’re also not blushing.” She leans in just enough for her voice to lower, her next words meant only for you. “But you are.”

Your resolve cracks slightly, enough for a small, involuntary laugh to escape. You quickly recover, shaking your head as you fix her with a look that you hope reads unimpressed—but the way Paige’s smirk deepens makes you think you’re failing miserably.

“You seem awfully confident for someone who just got here,” you say, trying to steer the conversation back into safer waters.

Paige shrugs, her shoulders moving in an easy rhythm that matches the cadence of her voice. “I’m just observant. And, you know, good at reading plays.”

“Plays?”

“Yeah,” she says, her grin turning almost playful now. “Like how you keep crossing your arms when you talk to me. Defense mechanism.”

You uncross your arms immediately, regretting the move the second her smirk shifts into something closer to triumph.

“See?” she teases. “I was right.”

“You’re insufferable,” you mutter, though the words come out more like a laugh.

“And yet,” Paige says, leaning back just enough to give you a moment’s reprieve, “you’re still talking to me.”

She’s not wrong, but you don’t let yourself linger on that thought. Instead, you square your shoulders, offering her a saccharine smile that feels like a small victory. “Maybe I’m just being polite.”

“Maybe,” she agrees, though her tone suggests she doesn’t believe that either.

Before you can respond, one of your teammates waves you over, motioning for you to join the rest of the group as the event shifts into its next stage. You give Paige a tight nod, as if to signal that the conversation is over, and turn to walk away.

“Hey,” she calls after you, her voice cutting through the din like it’s meant just for you.

You glance back, already halfway across the room.

“See you around, teammate.”

It’s casual, almost lazy, the way she says it. But the spark in her eyes as she meets your gaze makes it feel anything but.

You don’t reply. Instead, you turn back toward your teammates, heart pounding against your ribs in a way that you’re certain Paige Bueckers has no right to cause.

The next day dawns like any other—a pale sliver of sunlight spilling through the blinds, the soft hum of your alarm shaking you from sleep. Your phone buzzes with a notification as you swipe to silence the alarm: a practice reminder from the squad captain, a half-hour earlier than usual.

You groan quietly, already feeling the weight of the day settle onto your shoulders. Between your nine-to-five at the PR firm and cheer practice, your days rarely allow room for indulgence, let alone distractions.

Except today, there’s a distraction.

She flits through your mind the way sunbeams catch on the windshield during your drive to work—brief but impossible to ignore. Paige’s teasing smile, the easy way she leaned toward you as if she had all the time in the world to figure you out. You shake your head as you merge onto the freeway, cranking up the music to drown out the thought.

You’re good at focus. You have to be.

By the time you clock in, you’ve managed to push Paige into the back of your mind, hidden behind the mountain of emails that demand your attention. Meetings stretch into the afternoon, punctuated by a working lunch where you barely taste your food. Coworkers buzz about the latest office gossip, but you’re laser-focused on the client presentation you’ve been perfecting for weeks.

The hours blur together, and when you glance at the clock, it’s already 4:45. Just enough time to dart home, change into your uniform, and make it to practice.

The Dallas Cowboys Cheerleader practice facility is a world unto itself—bright, sterile, and unforgiving. The walls echo with sharp counts, the squeak of sneakers on polished floors, and the biting critique of your coaches.

“Sharper arms, everyone! This isn’t a yoga class!”

You’ve been here long enough to tune out the tone and focus on the instruction, but it doesn’t mean the sting doesn’t hit when it’s directed at you. “You’re late on the second count, [Y/N]! Fix it, or you’re doing it alone!”

“Yes, ma’am,” you reply automatically, forcing the strain out of your voice. You adjust your footing, throw yourself into the next routine, and pretend you don’t feel your muscles screaming in protest.

Cheerleading at this level is a game of precision and endurance. Perfection isn’t just the expectation—it’s the bare minimum. Your coach’s voice drills into your head like a metronome, keeping you in line as sweat drips down your back.

And yet, even as you push through the routine for the third, fourth, and fifth time, Paige creeps back into your thoughts.

Her smirk, her voice, the way her laugh felt like a secret just for you. You bite your lip, snapping yourself back to the present. Distractions like this could cost you—your spot, your reputation, everything you’ve worked for.

“Alright, that’s enough for today,” the coach finally calls, her sharp tone softening just enough to feel like a reprieve. “Clean up the routine and be ready to run it full-out tomorrow. Dismissed.”

You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding and head toward the lockers, shoulders heavy with exhaustion.

“You’re quiet today,” your teammate Dana says as she falls into step beside you.

“I’m always quiet,” you reply, but she shakes her head.

“Not like this. What’s on your mind?”

“Nothing.”

“Liar.” She smirks knowingly, bumping your shoulder with hers. “I saw you talking to Paige Bueckers last night.”

Your heart skips, but you keep your expression neutral. “It was nothing. Just small talk.”

“Oh, really?” Dana drawls, clearly not buying it. “She looked pretty interested for it to be just ‘small talk.’”

“She’s friendly. That’s all.” You tug open your locker, keeping your voice steady, but the blush creeping up your neck betrays you.

Dana’s grin widens. “Uh-huh. Friendly. Right.”

You roll your eyes, grabbing your bag and slinging it over your shoulder. “What do you want me to say? She was just being nice.”

“Sure. And you weren’t blushing at all.”

“I wasn’t,” you mutter, brushing past her, but Dana catches your arm, spinning you around just enough to read your face.

“You totally were,” she says, laughing. “I knew it. You’ve got a thing for her.”

“I don’t,” you insist, though the words feel flimsy even to you.

Dana studies you for a moment, her grin softening into something more thoughtful. “Hey, for what it’s worth, I think you should go for it.”

“Go for what?”

“Her. Paige. She seems cool, and you...” She pauses, shrugging. “You deserve to let someone in for once.”

You open your mouth to argue, to insist that you’re too busy, that it’s not practical, that Paige is just a passing thought. But the words don’t come. Instead, you nod absently, murmuring a quick, “See you tomorrow,” before heading out into the cool evening air.

As you drive home, Paige’s voice lingers in your mind, weaving through the cracks of your carefully constructed resolve. You don’t want to admit it—not to Dana, not to yourself—but something about her feels different.

And no matter how hard you try to focus on the road, the echo of her teasing smile keeps pulling you back.

Paige’s day started like most others: early alarms, cold showers, and an endless loop of drills designed to sharpen her skills to a razor’s edge. Practice with the team wasn’t just a routine—it was a second language, something she could move through on instinct alone.

But today, instinct wasn’t enough to keep her mind from wandering.

She tried to focus on the sound of sneakers squeaking on the court, the coach’s whistle cutting through the air, and the weight of the ball in her hands. Still, her thoughts kept drifting—back to the sharpness in your voice, the way your eyes flitted everywhere but her when she leaned in, and that faint blush you tried so hard to hide.

“Paige!”

The sharp call of her name jolted her out of her thoughts, and she turned just in time to see Aariyah toss her the ball. She caught it, but not without a stumble.

“Yo, where’s your head at today?” Aariyah asked, crossing her arms as Paige dribbled toward her.

“Nowhere,” Paige lied, attempting a casual shrug. She passed the ball back, forcing herself to stay in the present.

Her teammates weren’t convinced. Throughout the rest of practice, they kept stealing glances her way, whispering to each other when they thought she wasn’t looking. Paige pretended not to notice, but she could feel the weight of their curiosity as the session dragged on.

By the time practice ended, her nerves were frayed. She slung her bag over her shoulder and followed her team into the locker room, the sound of banter and laughter filling the space.

“So,” Aariyah started, leaning against a row of lockers. “What’s up? You’ve been weird all day.”

“Nothing,” Paige said, but Aariyah raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it.

“It’s not nothing,” Nyla chimed in, pulling her hoodie over her head. “You’ve been distracted since last night. What happened at that PR thing?”

Paige hesitated, debating whether to say anything at all. But the memory of your blush, your quick-witted deflections, and the way you seemed both intrigued and guarded all at once—it was enough to push her over the edge.

“Alright,” she admitted, leaning against the lockers. “There was this cheerleader there.”

“Ohhh, a cheerleader,” Nyla said, grinning. “Now we’re getting somewhere.”

“She’s… interesting,” Paige said, her voice casual but her mind racing. “What’s her deal?”

“She who?” Aariyah asked, curiosity piqued.

“I don’t know her name,” Paige admitted, running a hand through her hair. “She was there last night. Tall, sharp eyes, kind of guarded. You know her?”

Nyla’s expression shifted slightly, like she was putting pieces together. “You mean [Y/N]?”

“Yeah. That’s her.”

Aariyah let out a low whistle. “You’ve got your sights set on [Y/N]? Good luck with that.”

Paige frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“She’s… complicated,” Nyla said, choosing her words carefully. “She’s been with the team for a while, but she’s always kind of kept to herself. No one’s ever seen her with anyone. Ever.”

“Like, dating?” Paige asked, intrigued.

“Yeah,” Aariyah said. “As far as we know, she’s single. Always has been. And, uh… probably straight.”

Paige tilted her head, unconvinced. “You don’t know that.”

“Come on, Bueckers,” Nyla said, rolling her eyes. “Just because you’re into her doesn’t mean she’s into you. Don’t get your hopes up.”

Paige shrugged, though the flicker of doubt in her chest was quickly overruled by something stronger. “Maybe you’re wrong. My gay-dar’s never failed me.”

Aariyah snorted. “Your gay-dar is not a superpower, Paige.”

“Feels like it sometimes,” Paige said with a grin, though her mind was already wandering back to you—your sharp tongue, your quick wit, and the way you seemed to light up just a little when you thought no one was looking.

She couldn’t explain it, but something about you felt… different.

“Alright,” Aariyah said, shaking her head. “You do you. But don’t say we didn’t warn you.”

Paige just smiled, slinging her bag over her shoulder as she headed for the door. “Thanks for the vote of confidence, guys.”

As she stepped out into the cool afternoon air, she felt a spark of determination settle in her chest. You might’ve been guarded, but Paige wasn’t one to back down from a challenge.

And something told her that getting to know you would be worth the effort.

The energy inside AT&T Stadium was electric, a sea of navy and silver filling the stands as the Dallas Cowboys prepared to kick off their first game of the season. The buzz of excitement was contagious, spreading through the crowd and spilling onto the field where you stood, stretching and loosening up with your team in preparation for the Dallas Cowboys Cheerleaders' first performance of the year.

Your routine was set to "Thunderstruck"—an intense, crowd-pumping track that had been drilled into your muscles and memory over countless rehearsals. The choreography was sharp, demanding, and thrilling, and as the minutes ticked down to showtime, you could feel the adrenaline beginning to build.

Stretching your hamstrings, you focused on controlling your breath, locking in. This was your ritual—shut out the noise, shut out the crowd, shut out everything except the beat and the moves.

But then you saw her.

Paige Bueckers, dressed casually yet effortlessly stylish, strolling into the VIP section with a small entourage. Her golden hair caught the stadium lights just so, and her signature self-assured smirk tugged at the corners of her lips as she scanned the crowd.

Your focus cracked, just a little, as her gaze passed over the field. You could’ve sworn she lingered on you for half a second longer than necessary, though it was probably your imagination.

“Oh, look who it is,” one of your teammates teased, nudging you playfully. “Miss Basketball’s here to watch you.”

“Shut up,” you muttered, trying to refocus.

“Someone’s blushing,” another teammate chimed in with a grin.

“I’m not blushing,” you shot back, but the warmth spreading across your face betrayed you.

“Alright, ladies,” your coach barked, clapping her hands. “Let’s lock in. Showtime in five!”

You nodded, shaking off the distraction as you straightened up. This wasn’t your first time performing on such a massive stage, but tonight felt bigger somehow. Maybe it was the buzz of the first game or the fact that Paige Bueckers was now seated comfortably in the VIP section, her eyes occasionally flicking toward the field.

You couldn’t afford to think about that. Not now.

When it was time to step onto the field, the roar of the crowd hit you like a wave. The drumline started, the booming bass syncing with your heartbeat as you marched into position with your squad. Your eyes locked forward, face set with a determined smile.

As the opening riff of "Thunderstruck" blared through the speakers, the adrenaline hit you full force. Every move was sharp, every beat perfectly timed. The routine was fast and furious, filled with high kicks, sharp turns, and intricate formations designed to wow the crowd.

You didn’t just dance; you performed. You poured everything into every move, channeling weeks of hard work, sweat, and discipline into the routine.

For a moment, you forgot about Paige entirely. You forgot about the teasing, the crowd, and even the VIP section. It was just you and the music, your body moving instinctively with every beat, every accent.

And when the final pose hit—arms stretched high as the crowd erupted into cheers—you felt a rush of pride. You’d nailed it.

As you walked off the field, your teammates high-fived and cheered, hyping each other up. “You killed it out there,” one of them said, slinging an arm around your shoulder.

“Yeah,” you replied with a small smile, glancing toward the VIP section despite yourself.

Paige was still there, leaning back in her seat, clapping along with the rest of the crowd. But unlike the rest, her gaze wasn’t on the team—it was on you.

The Cowboys had won, and with victory came celebration—a tradition as ingrained in the culture as the game itself. Even if it was meant to be a “lowkey” night, the so-called party still overflowed with boisterous laughter, the bass of music vibrating through the room, and the steady clink of glasses.

You stood in the corner of the dimly lit lounge, nursing a sparkling water. The oversized, lavish venue was packed with players, cheerleaders, and a smattering of VIPs. It was a mandatory-unspoken-rule sort of thing; showing face after a win was just part of the job. That didn’t mean you enjoyed it.

The football players were the worst of it. Sure, most of them were decent enough, but there were always a handful of rookies and cocky veterans who treated the cheerleaders like part of their post-game spoils. Your smile was polished and your patience saintly, but the constant attention grated on your nerves.

Tonight was no different. A rookie wide receiver with a too-white smile and a swagger far outpacing his résumé sidled up to you as if you’d been waiting your entire life for this moment.

“Hey,” he drawled, leaning in too close. The smell of his cologne—something aggressively woody—made your nose twitch. “You look incredible tonight.”

“Thank you,” you replied politely, sipping your drink and taking a half-step back.

He didn’t notice, or he chose not to. “So, what’s a girl like you doing standing all alone at a party like this?”

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes. “Just enjoying the night.”

He took that as an invitation to lean closer, his grin widening. “Well, maybe you need someone to enjoy it with. How about I—”

The hand on your arm made your skin crawl.

You turned, polite facade dropping as you said firmly, “Back off.”

“Oh, come on,” he said, his grin faltering but still holding onto a thread of misplaced confidence. “Don’t be like that. I’m just being friendly.”

“I said, back off,” you repeated, stepping out of his reach.

“Hey, no need to get all uptight—”

“Is there a problem here?”

The voice sliced through the noise, cool and edged with steel. You turned your head, and there she was. Paige Bueckers, hands tucked casually into the pockets of her jeans, exuding an aura of calm dominance that was impossible to ignore.

“Who the hell are you?” the rookie asked, puffing up slightly, his bravado clashing with her unbothered demeanor.

“Doesn’t matter,” Paige said, her eyes narrowing. “What matters is she told you to back off. Twice.”

The rookie opened his mouth to retort, but Paige cut him off, her voice dropping just enough to send a shiver down your spine. “I suggest you listen, or I’ll be happy to explain it louder.”

The rookie hesitated, looking between you and Paige before finally muttering something under his breath and slinking away into the crowd.

You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. “You didn’t have to do that.”

Paige smirked, her hands still in her pockets as she leaned casually against the bar beside you. “Yeah, I did. Looked like you were about to throw a drink in his face.”

You snorted, a reluctant smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “Would’ve been satisfying.”

“Bet it would’ve,” Paige replied, her grin widening. “But then you’d have to deal with the PR fallout. Figured I’d save you the trouble.”

“Chivalrous,” you teased, trying to hide the fact that your cheeks were burning.

Paige tilted her head, her grin softening into something quieter, more genuine. “You alright?”

The question caught you off guard. You nodded, still holding her gaze. “Yeah. Thanks to you.”

“Anytime.” She glanced at the drink in your hand, then back at you. “So, are you always the life of the party, or is tonight a special occasion?”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the laugh that escaped. “Definitely a special occasion.”

Paige’s smile deepened, her gaze lingering just long enough to make your heart race. “Well, in that case, consider me honored to witness it.”

Paige stayed by your side after the rookie incident, the two of you easing into a conversation that felt refreshingly unforced. For the first time that evening, you didn’t feel the need to wear the polished, ever-smiling Dallas Cowboys Cheerleader mask. You didn’t have to calculate every word, every laugh, every polite sidestep.

It surprised you how quickly you relaxed around Paige. Her humor was sharp but warm, and the way she listened made you feel... seen. The kind of seen that wasn’t about the uniform or the role you played. She wasn’t looking at the cheerleader. She was looking at you.

“You seem different,” Paige said at one point, leaning on the bar beside you, her fingers tracing the edge of a napkin.

You quirked an eyebrow, feigning offense. “Different? Is that your way of saying I’m weird?”

She laughed, her head tipping back slightly. “Not what I meant. You’re... real. It’s nice.”

That comment stuck with you, warming you from the inside. You weren’t used to people looking past the glossy, larger-than-life image you were expected to maintain.

As the conversation flowed, you found yourself craving something sweet and light to cut through the night. You turned to the bartender. “Can I get a Shirley Temple, please?”

Paige’s eyes lit up. “No way. That’s my favorite.”

You blinked, caught off guard. “Really?”

“Swear on it.” She held up two fingers in a mock scout’s honor pose. “No judgment, but it’s kind of perfect. Sweet, nostalgic, doesn’t try too hard. Exactly my vibe.”

You smirked, shaking your head as the bartender slid the drink over. “Didn’t peg you for the Shirley Temple type.”

“What can I say? I’m full of surprises,” she said, flashing a grin that made your stomach flip.

By the time the party began winding down, the room thinning out, you realized just how much you’d enjoyed yourself. You weren’t even sure when the usual edge of tension had melted away, replaced by a lightness that felt foreign yet welcome.

Paige cleared her throat, her hands slipping into her jean pockets. “Hey, um... before you go.”

You looked up at her, noticing a slight shift in her demeanor. She wasn’t the effortlessly confident star athlete now. There was something endearingly hesitant about the way she scratched the back of her neck.

“Can I, uh, get your number?” she asked, her voice dropping just a fraction, as if saying it too loud might scare you off.

You tilted your head, lips curving into a teasing smile. “You? Nervous?”

She chuckled, the faintest hint of pink coloring her cheeks. “Is it working?”

With a laugh, you pulled your phone out and handed it over. Paige entered her number quickly, double-checking it before passing it back. “Don’t leave me hanging, alright? Text me sometime.”

You nodded, feeling a strange flutter in your chest as her fingers brushed yours during the exchange.

As you turned to leave, you glanced back and caught Paige walking toward her teammates. She glanced over her shoulder at you, a cocky smirk spreading across her face as she mouthed, “Told you so.”

One of her teammates groaned and swatted at her shoulder, while another rolled their eyes, clearly unimpressed with Paige’s triumphant swagger.

You shook your head, grinning despite yourself. Somehow, you had a feeling this was going to get interesting.

A few weeks had passed since that night at the party, and in the time since, Paige had somehow woven her way into the fabric of your life in ways you hadn’t expected. It wasn’t anything dramatic, nothing earth-shattering. But you couldn’t deny it: she had become part of your routine.

Despite the whirlwind of your schedule—DCC practices, games, and the usual duties that came with being in the spotlight—the texts from Paige came often, little moments of respite during your otherwise hectic days. Sometimes it was a simple check-in: “How’s practice?” or “How’s the Shirley Temple holding up today?” Sometimes it was just something random, like a meme or a quote that had made her think of you. Every time you saw her name pop up, your heart did that little flip again, that same flutter that had been there since the first night you met.

The dates were simple and casual, which was just how you liked it. A quiet dinner, a walk in the park, the occasional movie, and for the first time in a long time, you could just be yourself. You weren’t the cheerleader. You were just you. No performance. No expectations.

You thought you had the balance down, figuring out how to make it work despite the craziness of both of your lives. Paige was patient, always understanding when you had to cancel last minute or cut the night short. She didn’t pressure you. And, for once, you didn’t feel like you had to live up to an image for anyone, especially her.

It surprised you how easy it was to be with her. You hadn’t expected this—hadn’t expected her—but Paige was like a steady rhythm in the cacophony of your life. You found yourself looking forward to her texts, the way she’d always send a good luck message before your performances or a stupid meme to make you laugh on a rough day.

You didn’t mean to, but Paige was quickly becoming part of your routine.

But then came the photograph.

You hadn’t noticed the photographer—probably a fan at the café where you and Paige had been sitting, sipping iced coffee and laughing about some story she was telling. You only found out when the photo popped up on social media, your notifications blowing up with tags and mentions.

The picture was innocent enough: Paige leaning back in her chair, mid-laugh, while you rested your chin in your hand, looking at her like she was the funniest person alive. It was candid and warm, the kind of photo that screamed chemistry.

The next thing you knew, the photo of the two of you smiling, laughing, and holding hands was all over social media. The caption? "Paige Bueckers and the Dallas Cowboys Cheerleader: New Couple Alert!"

You didn’t think it was that big of a deal at first. After all, both of you were public figures in your own rights, and being seen together wasn’t exactly a crime. But as the hours passed, the post went viral. Comments flooded in. Some were supportive, some not so much. And as the days went on, you started seeing more articles and posts about the two of you, your names being linked in headlines everywhere.

It felt like a dream at first—something light, playful. But then reality sank in.

The next morning, as you walked into the DCC practice facility, you could feel the weight of it. You hadn’t even spoken to your coach yet, but you could tell. She was watching you as you walked in, her gaze sharp, calculating.

Coach Anderson didn’t waste any time. After practice, she called you into her office, her expression hardening as soon as the door clicked shut behind you.

“Close the door, please.”

You did as instructed, your heart beginning to race as you tried to brace for whatever was coming.

“Listen,” she started, her tone measured but firm, “you’re one of our best, and I don’t want this to come off as harsh. But... the photo. It’s everywhere. And it’s not great for the team’s image.”

You blinked, caught off guard. “Not great?”

She leaned forward, her elbows on the desk. “You know how this works. The Dallas Cowboys Cheerleaders represent a certain... ideal. We have an image to maintain, and this? People are already making assumptions. It’s distracting.”

The knot in your stomach tightened, anger starting to bubble beneath the surface. “What assumptions?” you asked, your voice steady but edged.

She hesitated. “You know what I mean. People are speculating. And it’s not... on-brand.”

You stared at her, disbelief mingling with frustration. This was exactly what you’d feared—the constant balancing act of being what everyone expected you to be. But as much as you hated confrontation, something inside you refused to back down this time.

“I’m not straight,” you said, the words clear and unwavering.

Your coach froze, clearly not expecting you to address it so directly.

“And I’m not going to pretend to be,” you added, leaning forward slightly. “I’ve given everything to this team. I’ve worked my ass off to be here, to be the best. My personal life doesn’t change that.”

She blinked, visibly stunned. You’d always been a “yes, ma’am” kind of girl—polite, compliant, eager to please. But now, your voice was steady and your gaze unyielding.

“This.” She sighed, gesturing vaguely, her lips curling into a tight line. “The public—our fans—they have an image of you. And this”—she motioned to the photos on her phone—“does not fit that image. You’re part of the Dallas Cowboys brand now, and I need you to understand that.”

You felt your stomach drop. You knew where this was going. This wasn’t just about the photos. It was about the implications.

“You’re a cheerleader, and you’re expected to maintain a certain image. You can’t just… throw that away because of a relationship,” Coach Anderson continued, her voice harder now, almost condescending. “This is about professionalism. Your image. Do you understand?”

You stared at her for a moment, feeling the familiar, suffocating weight of expectations pressing in on you. For a second, you almost nodded, almost let yourself fall back into that mold of obedience, that role you were supposed to play.

But then, you remembered something. You remembered what Paige had told you about being real, about not pretending. You remembered the feeling of being yourself in her presence.

And suddenly, you couldn’t stay silent any longer.

“No,” you said, the word sharper than you intended. Your heart was pounding now, but there was no going back. “I don’t think I do understand.”

Coach Anderson blinked, clearly taken aback by your tone. You took a step forward, crossing your arms over your chest. “I’m not going to pretend. Not for the team, not for anyone. If you think I’m going to sit here and fake being something I’m not for the sake of image, you’re wrong.”

Her eyes widened slightly, clearly shocked by your response. You were the quiet, obedient one. The one who never rocked the boat. The one who followed orders. To see you—to hear you—talk back like this was completely foreign to her.

“You’re talking about who I am,” you continued, your voice gaining strength. “And I’m not going to apologize for it. I’m not straight, Coach. I don’t owe you, or anyone else, an explanation for who I’m dating. If this”—you pointed at the photos again—“is a problem, then I guess I’ll have to deal with that.”

Coach Anderson stared at you, open-mouthed, for a moment, as if processing what you had just said. She blinked a few times, her face hardening into a tight, inscrutable mask. You could feel the weight of her gaze on you, assessing, perhaps judging, but you didn’t flinch.

For the first time in a long time, you didn’t feel like the Dallas Cowboys Cheerleader. You felt like you.

Finally, she spoke, her voice cold. “I never thought I’d hear those words from you. You’ve always been… so compliant.”

“Well, not anymore,” you said firmly, not backing down. “I’m not going to play by your rules if they’re going to make me pretend to be something I’m not. I’m sorry if that’s a problem, but that’s who I am.”

The silence that followed was heavy, your coach’s face unreadable as she regarded you. For a moment, you wondered if you’d gone too far, if you’d just tanked your entire career with a few sentences.

But then she sighed, rubbing her temples. “Just... keep it low-key, alright? We can’t afford unnecessary drama.”

You nodded once, standing. “I always do.”

And when you left her office, you felt lighter than you had in ages, like a weight had been lifted from your shoulders. The familiar tension that had always been there when you wore that uniform was gone.

You weren’t just a cheerleader anymore. You were you.

The soft glow of the TV illuminated the room as you curled into the plush couch, a blanket thrown lazily over both your legs. Paige sat at the other end, her legs stretched out, socked feet occasionally brushing against yours. Some random movie was playing, one neither of you had really been paying attention to. The kind that served as background noise more than entertainment. It had been a long day, and this—just sitting together, the world quiet—was exactly what you needed.

You hadn't mentioned the conversation with your coach earlier. It wasn’t worth souring the moment, and besides, the heaviness from earlier had already lifted, replaced by the comfort of Paige’s presence. She had a way of making everything else feel smaller, less significant, like her calm confidence could shield you from anything outside these four walls.

She reached for the bowl of popcorn sitting between you, tossing a piece in the air and catching it expertly in her mouth. She smirked, satisfied, and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes at her playful display.

“Show-off,” you teased, nudging her foot with yours.

“What can I say?” she replied, her grin wide and unabashed. “Natural talent.”

The movie’s dialogue droned on in the background, but Paige muted it with a flick of the remote, letting the quiet settle over you. She shifted slightly, resting her head against the arm of the couch, and looked over at you with a soft expression that made your chest feel warm.

“You know,” she began, her voice casual but carrying that undertone of something deeper, “when I was a kid, I used to think being good at basketball was enough. Like, if I could just be the best, everything else would fall into place.” She laughed softly, a self-deprecating sound. “Turns out, it’s a little more complicated than that.”

You tilted your head, intrigued. “What do you mean?”

She shrugged, her fingers fidgeting with the edge of the blanket. “I guess… I started realizing that it’s not just about being good. It’s about how people see the game. Women’s basketball doesn’t get the respect it deserves, you know? I want to change that. I want little girls to grow up seeing us on TV, in the spotlight, and thinking, I want to do that too. Not as some second-tier option, but as the dream.”

Her words hung in the air for a moment, and you felt your heart do that stupid fluttering thing again. There was something so earnest, so fiercely passionate in the way she spoke, like the sheer force of her determination could bend the world to her will. You could see it—the little girl Paige, dribbling a ball on some driveway somewhere, dreaming of being a trailblazer, not just a player.

“That’s…” you started, struggling to find the right words. “That’s incredible. You’re incredible.”

Her cheeks flushed slightly, and she smiled, brushing it off with a wave of her hand. “It’s just a dream.”

“Yeah, but you’re living it,” you insisted. “You’re out there, doing exactly what you said. You’re making it happen.”

She looked at you for a moment, her smile softening into something more vulnerable. “Thanks,” she murmured, her voice quieter now. “That means a lot.”

The conversation lapsed into a comfortable silence, and after a moment, Paige nudged you with her foot. “What about you?”

“What about me?”

“Your dream,” she clarified. “What was it? Little you, running around in pigtails or whatever, what did she want to do?”

You laughed, leaning back into the couch cushions as you thought about it. “I always loved dancing. I think I was four when I begged my mom to put me in ballet classes. I was obsessed. And when I got older, it wasn’t just about the dancing anymore—it was about the performing, you know? The way it felt to be on stage, like for those few minutes, nothing else mattered.”

Paige listened intently, her gaze fixed on you in that way that made you feel like the most important person in the world.

“The DCC gave me a place to do that,” you continued, your voice softening. “I know it’s not perfect—God knows they’re not exactly progressive—but it’s still a dream. Getting to do what I love, to perform for a crowd… it’s everything I wanted.”

Paige smiled, a small, thoughtful curve of her lips. “You’re good at it,” she said simply.

You raised an eyebrow. “You haven’t even seen me dance.”

“I’ve seen enough,” she countered, her tone teasing but warm. “And besides, you wouldn’t be where you are if you weren’t incredible.”

You felt your cheeks heat, and you ducked your head, pretending to adjust the blanket so she wouldn’t see. “You’re just saying that.”

“Maybe,” she said with a grin, leaning back against the couch. “But I mean it.”

For a moment, neither of you said anything, the quiet between you filled with an unspoken understanding. It was rare, you realized, to have a moment like this—where everything felt easy, natural. Where you could just be.

As the credits rolled on the muted movie, Paige stretched, her arm brushing against yours, and you felt a warmth that had nothing to do with the blanket draped over you.

“You know,” she said, her voice light but with a playful edge, “I think little-you and little-me would’ve been friends. Or at least rivals.”

You laughed, the sound bubbling up before you could stop it. “Oh, definitely rivals. I would’ve wiped the floor with you in a dance-off.”

Paige raised an eyebrow, her smirk returning. “Bold claim, cheerleader.”

“True claim,” you shot back, grinning.

She rolled her eyes but didn’t argue, and as the night stretched on, you found yourself leaning into the comfort of her presence, the weight of the world falling away, if only for a little while.

Paige grinned, leaning back against the couch cushions with a kind of effortless charm that made your stomach do somersaults. “What can I say? I’m a woman of many talents.” She winked, and it was ridiculous how easily she could fluster you with the smallest gestures.

You shook your head, a soft laugh escaping before you could help it. “That’s what you’re going to lead with? Popcorn tricks?”

“Hey, don’t knock it,” she shot back, her grin widening. “This could’ve been my party trick if basketball didn’t work out.”

You raised an eyebrow, playing along. “Oh yeah? And where does ‘world-class popcorn catcher’ rank next to WNBA superstar?”

She pretended to think, tapping her chin dramatically. “Probably right under future Hall of Famer and your biggest fan.”

That last bit caught you off guard. Paige said it so casually, like it wasn’t the kind of thing that could make your heart skip a beat. She didn’t even look at you after, just grabbed another handful of popcorn like she hadn’t just said something that would live rent-free in your mind for days.

You tried to play it cool, focusing on the screen and not the way your cheeks felt like they were on fire. “You’re ridiculous, you know that?”

“Yeah, but you like it,” she teased, nudging your leg lightly with her foot.

And damn it, she wasn’t wrong.

The sound of her phone vibrating against the coffee table pulled both of you out of the easy rhythm of banter. Paige reached for it, glancing at the screen. The shift in her expression was subtle, but you caught it—the way her brows furrowed just slightly, the ghost of a smirk softening into something more reserved.

“Press conference clips,” she muttered, tossing the phone back onto the table without opening the notification. “Guess they’re making a thing out of it.”

It didn’t take a genius to know what “it” was. The photo, the headlines, the endless speculation. You felt the weight of it again, creeping in at the edges of this quiet moment. But before you could say anything, Paige turned her attention back to you, her expression steady.

“Don’t worry about it,” she said, her voice firm but warm. “People are going to talk. Let them. It’s not going to change anything.”

You studied her, the way she always seemed so sure of herself, so unshaken by the noise. It was one of the things you admired most about her—the way she carried herself with this quiet confidence, like she knew exactly who she was and didn’t owe anyone an explanation.

“Doesn’t bother you?” you asked softly, the words coming out before you could second-guess them.

She shrugged, her lips curving into that easy, self-assured smile that felt like a safety net. “Why would it? I get to date you. Let ‘em be jealous.”

And just like that, the tension dissolved, replaced by the warmth of her words and the steady, unflinching way she looked at you. Paige Bueckers, always cool under pressure, had a way of making everything else fade into the background.

The next couple of weeks pass surprisingly smoothly, at least on the surface. Coach Anderson hasn’t said a word about the photos since your last meeting, and it’s not hard to figure out why. You’re the top cheerleader, the face of the squad, and the one she relies on to land those impossible stunts and lead the team’s routines. Letting you go now would only create a whirlwind of drama she clearly wants to avoid.

But that doesn’t mean everything is perfect.

Your teammates—most of them, anyway—don’t go out of their way to make life easy for you. There’s no outright hostility; it’s all subtle, quiet, passive-aggressive. Like when you’re practicing the pyramid, and someone “accidentally” tightens their grip too much on your ankle, or when you call for a run-through and the response is a too-sweet “Of course, captain,” followed by exaggerated sighs and barely concealed eye-rolls.

It doesn’t happen all the time, but often enough that you can feel the weight of it. Even when no one’s saying anything, the whispers just outside of earshot, the exchanged glances, and the forced smiles remind you that the photos are still fresh in their minds.

You grit your teeth and keep going. Every time you land a clean tumble or nail the timing on a routine, you know you’re proving them wrong. Performance after performance, you remind everyone why you’re the one leading this team.

Then, one Friday night after a big game, the dam breaks—but not where you expect it.

The team’s win had been huge, a tight match that came down to the final seconds. The cheer squad had been flawless, their chants and stunts keeping the crowd alive and electric. As you gather with your squad on the sidelines, still buzzing from the game’s energy, the reporters swarm in.

The questions start innocent enough. Someone asks about the routine, another about the game’s atmosphere. You answer them like you always do—polished and professional.

But then a reporter steps forward. A man with a smirk that makes your skin crawl, and a voice dripping with fake politeness. "Great work tonight," he starts, holding his mic out to you. "But I have to ask—given all the controversy around those photos recently, do you really think you’re the right person to represent this team?"

The question catches you off guard, even though maybe it shouldn’t. You feel the weight of it settle like a rock in your chest, heavy and sharp. Around you, the other girls stiffen, and the camera lenses zoom in, waiting for your reaction.

You take a breath, keeping your expression calm even as irritation simmers just beneath the surface. "Well," you say, your voice steady, "those photos have nothing to do with my role here. What matters is the work we put into this team—on and off the field. And if you watched tonight’s game, I think the results speak for themselves."

Your response is measured, professional. But it’s not enough for him. "Still," he presses, his smirk widening, "don’t you think it sets a... questionable example for young girls watching?"

It’s such a loaded, condescending question that the irritation flares into anger. Before you can reply, though, one of your teammates steps forward. "Excuse me," she says sharply, her voice cutting through the tension. "What kind of example are you setting by asking that question? Maybe focus on our performance instead of gossip."

The reporter’s smirk falters, and another cheerleader speaks up, her arms crossed. "Yeah, seriously. We just worked our butts off out there, and this is what you want to talk about? Seems like a ‘you’ problem."

A few of the others chime in, their voices firm and united. For the first time in weeks, you don’t feel like you’re standing on shaky ground. The reporter stumbles over his words, trying to regain control, but someone from the PR team steps in and quickly ends the interview.

When the chaos dies down, and you’re gathering your things, one of your teammates catches your eye. "We’ve got your back," she says simply, offering you a small smile.

The others nod in agreement, and it’s all you can do to keep your voice steady when you reply. "Thanks. That means a lot."

It’s not a perfect resolution, but as you leave the field that night, you feel lighter. For the first time, it feels like you’re not fighting this battle alone.

The atmosphere shifts after the interview ends. The biting coldness that had lingered for weeks, the pointed whispers and passive-aggressive smiles, seems to melt away. For the first time in what feels like forever, you don’t feel like an outsider among your own team.

One by one, the girls gather around you. At first, it’s tentative—an awkward shuffle of sneakers on the turf as if they’re testing the waters. Then someone breaks the tension by stepping closer and wrapping their arms around you.

It’s unexpected, but the gesture cracks something open inside you. Before you can process it, another cheerleader joins in, and then another, until you’re at the center of a warm, chaotic huddle.

The hug isn’t perfect. Arms bump into shoulders, someone’s pom-poms tickle your cheek, and there’s a faint whiff of sweat and body spray mingling in the air. But none of that matters. What matters is the sincerity in the way they hold you, the murmured “We’ve got you” and “Don’t let them get to you” that make your throat tighten with unexpected emotion.

“Look,” one of them says with a grin as the group hug breaks apart, “we may not always be the easiest people to deal with, but you’re our captain. No reporter or stupid photos are gonna change that.”

Another girl chimes in, smirking. “And if they ask anything dumb again, we’ll handle it. You just focus on flipping in midair like it’s nothing.”

The laughter that ripples through the group is light, genuine, and for the first time in weeks, you feel like part of the team again. The weight of their support, of their acceptance, feels like armor you didn’t know you needed.

When the moment starts to fade and the team begins gathering their things, you feel a familiar hand slip into yours. Paige is there, her grip warm and steady, her smile soft in a way that’s meant just for you.

“Ready to go?” she asks, her voice low enough that only you can hear.

You nod, glancing around at the others. The team is still buzzing, joking and chatting as they trail toward the locker rooms, but a few of them shoot you quick, encouraging smiles.

As you and Paige step out of the arena, hand-in-hand, the crisp night air greets you. The world outside is buzzing, reporters still milling about, cameras flashing as fans cheer and chatter. You know they’re looking. You can feel the weight of their stares, the subtle tilt of a camera lens in your direction, the whispers that follow wherever you go.

But tonight, for once, you don’t care.

You hold Paige’s hand tighter, her fingers lacing through yours in a way that feels unshakable, grounding. You catch her eye, and there’s something fierce in her smile, a kind of defiance that mirrors your own.

“Let them look,” she says, her voice firm but laced with humor. “What are they gonna do? Take more photos?”

The words make you laugh, a sound that feels freer than it has in weeks. Together, you walk through the crowd, the world around you blurring into the background as you focus on each step forward.

People snap pictures, murmur among themselves, and even call out questions, but none of it matters. Not the flashes of cameras, not the speculative headlines that will follow. What matters is the solid warmth of Paige’s hand in yours and the knowledge that, for the first time in a long time, you’re not walking alone.

As the two of you disappear into the night, you feel lighter. Stronger. You’re still the same person who weathered the worst of the storm, but now, you have people at your side who will weather it with you. And that makes all the difference.

↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !

↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

[snapscube]

hi!! do you have any infinity nikki tips to share? your outfits look really beautiful- i'm not caught up with the story yet, and i wanted to know if some of those shoes were from resonance, recharge or storyline/world? im struggling with the impulse to spend money (i'd feel fine doing like a single purchase or something, but my road with nikki has been paved with quite a bit of money already, so i'm worried about the slippery slope)

some of my favorite outfits in the game are legit just free stuff you find/earn by playing! a lot of the stuff i’ve shown off here are in-game rewards entirely for free either by crafting or doing styling challenges.

so far here are my big tips i’ve learned just w my own experience (and mistakes 😬):

- there are SO many clothes in the overworld, way more than you might expect. check every chest and shop you find WHEN you find it. it’s never not worth it even if it’s slightly out of the way. same with dews of inspiration! they will only get harder to locate as you clear more of the map so make sure you never pass up the opportunity to grab one. EVERYTHING in this game ties back to clothes one way or another, so it’s never not worth it to be interacting w all of the systems in one way or another.

- do not spend a ton of bling until you are further in the main story quest. it’ll be tempting to roll stuff like the wish o matic but if u blow all of your bling on it or anything else early on you WILL regret it later. bling is used for every other upgrade system in the game.

- make sure u are not capping out on vital energy too often, its super quick to run a realm of the dark fight or trade it in for collection insight if you’re close to cap and about to log off. its constantly replenishing and the currencies/materials you can get from it are so valuable down the line.

- i would HIGHLY ADVISE that you save the diamonds you earn exclusively to use for pulls on limited time gacha banners. the ones with the pink resonance crystals. do not use them to refill your energy, do not use them for the permanent banner pulls. you are going to need to do a good chunk of pulls to get everything u need from limited banners before they go and this will make sure you are minimizing the temptation to spend real world money when u dont need to.

- don’t skip out on leveling eureka! the system can be a tad confusing and somewhat de-emphasized at first but it’s low risk and so worth it. ANY well leveled eureka at all is better than nothing for styling contests. you can literally double your score with a good set of eureka, it can be the difference between an average or perfect score.

- speaking of styling challenges, try to unlock the mirror styling challenges as soon as u can! you will know them when u see them, i forget exactly how you unlock it but there is a weekly reset version of the challenge that gives great rewards.

uhhhh that’s all i can think of rn feel free to post other tips in the replies if you’ve been playing tho :)

[mychlapci]

Broody Carriers!! There's this fic on Ao3 https://archiveofourown.org/works/58022971#main (I'm on mobile so I'm not sure it'll work, it's called Brooding Brain and is a Jazz/Prowl fic.) and it scratches my brain so good. Just what I needed to add to my personal headcanons regarding carriers.

Personally, I prefer mechs laying eggs over live birth. Makes more sense in my brain and some species, like chickens, get broody when it's time to lay some eggs. Prefect to add to my egg-laying carriers. And because my favorite pairing is TFA Megop (as you might have noticed from some other asks you've gotten lately, I'm just going to refer to myself as Rozie Anon from now on) most of the word vomit I'm throwing at you is based on them.

So, Optimus is usually the one to get sparked, so I'm gonna focus on his brooding state. (Imagine this is some vague peacetime au and Megop is already established as conjunxes.)

At the beginning when he first gets sparked - once he's gotten over the shock and subsequent urge to murder his conjux - things are going pretty smoothly for the first trimester. His body is reconfiguring itself to better support the bitties and is putting on weight due to the cravings of various material. From hard metals like iron and titanium to soft, precious, metals like gold and silver. Energon prepared in different ways like extravagant, well-crafted and nutritious, 5-course meals or just the raw crystal to munch on. (I like to imagine he has a small hoard of various, common to hard-to-find, non-perishables. Gold and silver nuggets, coins, and chains, crystals either energon or otherwise, even shed armor pieces that would have normally been smelt down. It's like a little dragon hoard :3c)

His hips have widened with his growing belly and his thighs are thicker to accommodate for the shift in weight. He has the same pregnant thought process of "Oh Primus, I'm getting fat, I'm fat! My conjux is never going to want to touch me again!" Megatron has to reassure him that he's just a beautiful as before and honestly to him, he looks even more so, if that was even possible.

Second trimester comes around and Optimus is starting to get achy. He's starting to get more and more moody and, well, broody, as time goes on. He's crafted a wonderful little nest which Megatron pitched in for finding the right size frame, mattress, and buying a shit-ton of material for it. (He's a warlord, it's fine, he's got the funds to spare, anything for his wifey.) Optimus starts complaining his back and feet ache, his protoform has gotten more sensitive, and his titties are finally swelling. Megatron pulls out all the stops for him, back rubs and foot baths, massages (that often turn into back-blowing sex), milking his swollen titties, and just generally spoiling his wife rotten.

Optimus finds that it's getting harder and harder to concentrate, he's reluctant to leave the nest, and he starts getting more snippy and aggressive with anyone other than Megatron. He once snapped at Strika for something minor and then began apologizing profusely, only for her to laugh and say that she knew he didn't mean it, he's brooding and can't control himself. In fact she says Lugnut's brooding state was worse when they had their bitties. He's really more of a hissing kitten compared to Lugnut.

By the time he's in his third trimester and his due date is coming up, all his higher brain functions are shutting down quickly and his core temperature has risen. He rarely ever leaves the nest anymore and can really only get out one word answers for things like "fuel", "energon", "cuddles?", and "spark". The only time where Optimus is more or less cognizant at this point is when they're spark-merging. Spark-merging for a Carrier, especially with the sire of the sparklings, is one of the main ways to properly stabilize the sparks. It takes a lot of strain on the Carrier's spark to support the clutch (for Optimus, a clutch of five), and sharing sparks with the sire or another mech with a close relationship helps lift that stress. It's also a good bonding experience for the bitties even before they hatch.

Optimus is still getting railed and milked even while broody though. With his higher brain functions shut down, all there is left is instinct, and he's become Horny As Fuck. Being horny and broody at the same time makes him insatiable. Megatron is the only one who can properly satisfy him because he's the only one who can get close enough to him without the threat of getting mauled. He was basically getting fucked 24/7 before, but now Megatron has to tie Optimus up and set a sex machine on him so he can take a break.

Finally, his bitties are ready to be laid. The eggs are bigger than expected so it's a tight squeeze and long labor. Megatron is by his side the whole time, coxxing Optimus through the whole process with Ratchet as the mid-wife (the only other person that was able to get close to him). And once the eggs are out, Optimus immediately sets upon laying on them, all his vents open to dump as much heat as possible on them. Eggs need to be kept at a very specific temperature, which is why incubators were created, but it would take a few months before Optimus would be coherent enough to allow them to be moved to an incubator.

After those months are up and Optimus has started coming back to his senses, Megatron is able to convince him to move the eggs to the incubator. And once they're safe and secure, it doesn't take long for Optimus to regain his composure. He's still a little moody and occasionally takes an egg or two out of the incubator to place in his pouch (I like to think they also have a marsupial-esque pouch to carry the bitties while their either still in their eggs or still small enough to fit, the pouch can get up to forging temperatures for eggs), but is otherwise back to normal.

Until Megatron knock him up again.

ohhh inch resting... broody carriers are certainly fun, and i draw extreme satisfaction from imagining a tuckered out Optimus all splayed out over his precious eggs... He's all hazy and hyper-protective of his clutch, not even Megatron could tear him away from them. It's best to leave the happy little carrier alone...

[blackcherryvelvet0909]

Sandcastle King (Leona x GN!Reader)

You admired the many sandcastles as you walked along the beach. They were all constructed uniquely to the tastes of their sculptors - to the dorms they belonged to. Despite the short two hour time frame, they were all so intricately designed, every detail well thought out. The most impressive, in your opinion, was the ones belonging to Diasomnia, Octavinelle, and Savanaclaw. They were around the same size as the others, but the way they were erected was most impressive. Diasomnia’s almost looked as though it were made of stone - Malleus’s craftsmanship, no doubt. Octavinelle’s was a near-exact replica of the dorm itself, special seashells placed on the peak of the towers resembling the spires of Octavinelle. 

Savanaclaw’s sandcastle, however, had been the one to win out. You honestly hadn’t expected much, and neither had the other onlookers. Of course, Jack and Ruggie worked hard, along with some other students, but there were those who really didn’t do anything at all. It was hard to get even half the dorm to participate! You supposed it was because magic was not allowed to be used to construct the castles; apparently some could not last without their magic for more than a couple hours. Leona himself, the leader of them all, had grumbled away about the magicless competition as well. He really didn’t do much in terms of labor…but he showed up in other areas of the contest. 

Never would you have guessed Leona knew so much about architecture, nor how such structures would hold up with sand as their body. Despite the difficulties of crafting with such loose material, Leona had managed everything so well that nary a crisis had occurred during the castle's construction. Truly, Leona’s secret knowledge was the envy of all other contestants - you noticed even Malleus pouted when Savanaclaw won. Never would anyone doubt Leona again. Well, in the construction and design department, at least. Any other kind of task was up for debate. 

You gazed out to the sea, various Savanaclaw students splashing in the crystal waters. Most were still celebrating their victory, even though some hadn’t contributed at all. You glanced over to your right to see Ruggie sitting pretty in a chair close to the shoreline, the throng of corndogs he’d received as his prize nearly gone. He could certainly gobble down food in a hurry. You hoped he was getting enough to eat during the trip. As for Jack, he’d gone with Epel and Deuce to get some ice cream - and Ace some aloe vera. He never listened when people warned him to put on sunscreen…

As you scanned the beach, wondering what to do next, you finally spotted the king of the castle himself: Leona. He was laid back on a large towel, eyes closed as he took in the sun’s rays. He looked like he was sleeping - you weren’t surprised. For someone who napped a lot, you expected him to be tired after the competition. You were honestly surprised he participated at all; at first, he was going to assign Ruggie to lead the pack to victory. It was when Malleus taunted him for turning tail that Leona agreed to the whole thing. You were sure Malleus regretted that teasing now.

Before you realized it, you were standing beside Leona. You watched him sleep for a minute, his bangs brushed aside to keep sweat out of them. His arms were folded behind his head, chest rising and falling steadily. Idia was right that one time he ranked your friends by attractiveness: Leona was, indeed, one of the top three men on campus. You wondered if that was why he and Malleus fought sometimes, to see who could outbest the other in that regard. You would have to ask Malleus to confirm later - you doubted Leona would tell you. 

You were pulled out of your thoughts when Leona’s eyes suddenly opened. He stared up at you, brow furrowed as he nearly snarled. “Oi, I’m sleepin’ here. You’re blockin’ the sun.” 

You couldn’t help but tease. “I thought you liked the shade?”

“Yeah, when I feel like it.” He smacked your leg with the back of his hand. “Move.” 

“You can’t even ask me nicely?” 

“You want me to make you?” 

“Alright, alright,” you stepped out of the way, “you don’t have to be so whiney.” 

He grumbled as he turned to lay on his side, away from you. “I’m not whiney.” 

“Yeah, right!” you laughed. “You’re whinier than Ace half the time!” 

Leona glanced over his shoulder at you, thoroughly unamused. “Are you gonna keep mocking me, or can I finally enjoy the sun in peace?” 

“Yeah, yeah, I’m going.” You began to walk away as you mumbled to yourself. “It’s not like you need it anyway.” 

A small gasp left your lips as a large hand wrapped around your ankle. You looked back to see Leona, glare directed up at you. “What’s that supposed to mean?” 

“I mean, you’re already tanned,” you replied. “I don’t think you can get anymore baked.” 

“That so?” A sly smile stretched across his face. Oh no. “‘S that why you were oglin’ me?” 

You scoffed. “Ogling? I wasn’t ogling.” 

“Suuure you weren’t.” You stumbled as Leona tugged at your leg, forcing you to come closer. “Tryin’ to get a look at one of the college’s ‘top tier men’, right?” 

If you were beastmen your ears would have perked up in shock at the familiar term. “Where did you…?”

“Ruggie,” Leona said. “He overheard your lil conversation with radish sprout the other night. Thought it was so funny he’d tell me about it.” He smirked as he eyed you mischievously. “And you know what he told me? He said you agree enthusiastically when Idia said I was in the top three.” 

Well, caught red-handed, weren’t you? You could not stop the blush that tore across your cheeks, embarrassment flooding your veins. You wanted to run, and then maybe go dig a sandpit and die. Your eyes glanced over to Ruggie, who happily bit into his last corndog. You’d deal with him later. For now, you had your honor to defend. 

“Y-Yeah, and?” You mentally cursed yourself for stuttering. “I’m not gonna lie and say you’re ugly.”

“So I’m handsome then?” He was practically grinning now. 

“I never said that…” 

“They say the truth will set you free~” 

“Oh, shut up!” 

Leona breathed out a sound of amusement as he shrugged. “Suit yourself.” You thought you were finally free from this humiliation - and then you felt yourself fall. You yelped in surprise, hand flailing to try and grab onto something to catch yourself. Instead, your back hit Leona’s towel. You felt arms circle you and tug you close into a near suffocating hold. Leona’s expression was unreadable now, as his face was now hidden in the crook of your neck, but you could hear the amusement in his voice. 

“Guess I’ll just have to keep you here until you come clean.” 

Though you struggled in his grasp, it was no use - he was too strong for you. There was no escape. You glared daggers into the top of the lion’s head as you spoke. “Leona, I have to go-” 

“Well, you’re not.” 

“I need to see where Grim-” 

“He can take care of himself for a bit.” 

“Leona, get off me!”

Leona’s ears twitched, as though searching for genuine hurt in your voice. When he found none, his hold grew ever tighter. You felt him smile against your neck, “As I said, the truth will set you free.” 

“Bastard,” you hissed. 

“Yeah, yeah,” Leona brushed you off as he relaxed. “Wake me up when you’re ready for a confession.” 

He meant yours, no doubt. You didn’t want to, you wouldn’t! He’d have to get tired of this at some point; once he let you go, loosened his grip just enough, you’d run and never look back! Maybe one of your friends could help you escape…you hoped. For now, you had no choice but to sit - well, lay - tight and get comfy. Hopefully your sunscreen hadn’t washed off earlier, or you’d surely end up just like Ace. You sighed as you stared up at the sky, an incoherent grumble spoken under your breath. 

The purr that reverberated through Leona’s chest was surely at your strife.

[unformula1]

Changed (LS2 x OP81)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ synopsis: Logan thinks about Oscar. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ pairing: Logan Sargeant x Oscar Piastri  w/c: 645 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ a/n: messy but eh. hopefully this becomes a series (yea?) day 16 of loscar posts until we get a loscar podium! (series masterlist) masterlist ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Logan didn’t know when it started, when everything started to fall apart at the seams, when the four walls came crashing down, when life started to make less sense. 

All he did know was that Oscar wasn’t there.

“Promise?” Logan asks.

“Always.” Oscar assures.

“Always there?” “Promise.”

It was just a bunch of empty, pointless promises. 

He couldn’t blame Oscar, they were kids, naive and innocent, unaware of how the world would treat both of them differently.

He couldn’t blame Oscar, how was he supposed to know that he would find someone better eventually.

He couldn’t blame Oscar, he never expected Oscar to keep his promises anyway. As he grew older, he knew that their promises would eventually fall apart.

He couldn’t blame Oscar, he really couldn’t.

Logan leans against the walls of his drivers’ room. The silence is deafening, it’s just him and his thoughts which aren't always good. He’s forced to sit down and run through everything in his head.

They’re usually messy jumbles of information which he’ll probably forget within hours, faded memories like old reports turning yellow and crystal clear mistakes which will never go away.

He throws a ball against the wall, it bounces back and he catches it. It’s stupid, but it helps to arrange Logan’s thoughts. It’s pathetic. Who the hell throws balls against the wall to think properly?

If younger Logan could see him now, he can only imagine the disappointment on his face. The sighs coming out from his mouth, the subtle head shakes. 

Logan forces himself to stop messing around with his thoughts. He rolls the ball to one side of the room and steps out of his driver’s room. Usually this shouldn’t be hard, but it is. It’s unbearably difficult for Logan to walk into the paddock and see everyone but him having fun.

He makes his way around the paddock, finding something to occupy his mind with. It’s harder than he expects. He loiters around the different garages before finally landing at the McLaren garage.

Oscar’s face is plastered on the giant entryway, Logan looks at it for a solid few seconds before kicking a tiny pebble on the ground and walking off. He looks back at it one more time. He misses Oscar. 

He really does.

Oscar used to be that one constant in his life, the one who would always be there for him, the one who always regarded Logan as his first choice. Not anymore. Oscar had someone else, he had something more important to focus on.

They used to be a perfect pair, made for each other, crafted to be each other’s halves and now they were a wilting rose, a loose thread hanging on to whatever’s left, an invisible string losing its glow.

It was absolutely devastating to think about it. Logan wipes the small tear that he shed. 

Just like the universe playing some sick trick on Logan, Oscar walks out of the garage, standing super close to Lando, who follows him. A media crew surrounds him. They’re probably filming some media day content which reminds Logan he needs to head back for media day filming too.

He looks one more time at the McLaren duo and for a split second, him and Oscar lock eyes. Logan gives Oscar a smile and suddenly, everything slows down and Logan feels the rising urge in him to just run over and hug Oscar.

Then reality comes back and hits him in the head, Oscar turns away, barely acknowledging Logan’s presence.

Logan stands there as the McLaren duo walk off, camera crew following behind. 

Logan feels his world crashing around him, not even a smile back, not a glance, nothing. Everything was gone. 

Everything’s changed, nothing stayed the same, it’s all different now.

It was like peeling the petals of a rose, wondering if they love you back and ending up with the last petal of “he loves me not”.

[tainted-liquor]

'Cuddle Monster(s)☾‧₊˚ ⋅

E42!Miles Morales x Witch!BlackFem!Reader ┆˚✧Ingredients: Crack, kisses, and a lil bit of smiles! ┆∘⋆TWs: Cursing, Reader being a menace, n I think that’s it? ┆⁺˚⋆W/C: I’ll fix this later😭 ┆`✦A/N: I lowkey used this as spanglish practice

"Miles? Can you get me some basil and patchouli while you're out?" You called from your bathroom as you heard your front door swing open. "I'm only going to the bodega, but I'll see what I can find Mami!" he shouted back from downstairs before swiftly exiting out your house. You smiled to yourself, thinking about just how much you loved your boyfriend as you threw a slew of items and herbs into a small jar. For the past 5 months, you've been perfecting your new craft of spirit-raising, the art of manifesting a living vessel from the hole between your world and theirs. These spirits, or "monsters" as many people would call them are...usually grateful when you raise them, often repaying your kindness by offering protection and energy in exchange for being their path to this world and theirs.

Since these spirits can be seen as an extension of you due to bringing them into this world, they tend to be in tune with your emotions. When you cried, they cried, when you yelled, they yelled, and when you loved, so did they. When Miles first learned about your ability to pull spirits through that invisible portal, he didn't really care. He's murdered people before, so what's a little witchcraft? After all, he hadn't actually seen exactly what came through that portal just yet.

You casually dumped more herbs and tiny crystals into your jar, maintaining perfect focus on the task at hand as you slowly dumped almond oil into the jar. When everything was finished, you sealed the jar with purple wax before throwing it rather aggressively into your full bathtub. You closed your eyes, silently hoping that you didn't do shit wrong as you kneeled down next to the tub, dunking a hand into the numbing and cold water for a couple of minutes. When you didn't notice anything happening, you sighed to yourself and went to pull your hand out of the water. But no sooner than you moved, you felt something unfamiliar and cold grab your hand.

You felt a harsh tug, then watched as what appeared to be an all-grey horned creature emerged through the tub. It was around 8 feet in height and looked like something straight out of a horror fantasy movie. It had no face, only one massive pitch-black eye where what would be a nose. It stared at you unblinkingly, processing its surroundings before emerging from your bathtub and standing behind you. It looked more afraid of you than you were slightly of it, so you gave it a small wave and a pat on the...knee? to calm it down.

It sat down motionless and limp in the bathroom, radiating content as you heard the front door open. It wasn't even a fraction of a second before the creature came darting out of the room, you following quickly behind it as it advanced toward Miles. Miles didn't even get the chance to scream before it scooped him up, hugging him like the tiniest of babies as its eye closed in joy. "WHEW. OKAY. MAMI, QUÉ ES ESTO?" He shouted with wide eyes. "It's...my new protector! I just raised it...It's not gonna hurt you it just loves you" you quickly explained as Miles froze up in the monster's hands. "Shit...warn me next time" he huffed, slowly relaxing as he processes what was happening.

From that day forward, he learned to accept the sudden appearance of various creatures in his house. A bone dog, a very very long horse, several people that weren't quite people, and various spirits that took on many many forms. He wasn't gonna pretend like it never caught him off guard or scared him, occasionally stepping out of the shower to see a monster or two staring at him silently always managed to raise his heart rate by a couple beats per minute. He knew they loved him with the same affection you always gave him, so he was never truly terrified by them. He had been told it was rude to not speak to them, so he always gave them a rather quiet and shaky "Hola..." whenever he saw them.

"Mama, te amo tan mucho...pero, por favor dime cuando tus 'spirits' will be watching me shower."

"Sorry love!"

And it never quite stopped there. Whenever you were outside of the house and a few entities decided to loom and fawn over your boyfriend, he always knew how you felt in the moment. There were times when he would be sitting on the couch, eating a nice bowl of cereal and a sea of non-human crying could be heard. He immediately jumped up from whatever it was he was doing, running to his phone to check on you. Whether you were minor stressed or full-blown crying, he was able to tell how you truly felt at the drop of a hat. In some sense he was grateful because it allowed him to further understand and navigate...you!

"Mami are you mad at me?"

"...no"

"Tell me the truth, c'mon muñequita"

"What makes you think I'm mad?"

"You deadass?" he huffed as he pointed at the strange thing hovering above him, staring at him with crossed arms and an annoyed grimace.

"okay maybe..."

[cyten0]

A Symphony In Crimson

Act 1: A Movement in Black

Chapter 22

You stand next to your family, defending them. You don’t see a way out.

✸ “The fact is, I have a few ways to fix this! If you won't kill me then... Well, I can’t go back to Stardust if they're dead~”

Instantly, your family rounds about you, to defend you instead!?!

✸ “Oh dear? That devoted! Well then…”

Loop steps back and space folds in on itself, as you suddenly feel something behind you.

✸ “Let’s play~”

Loop grabs your arm, and you pull back, detaching it quickly before a surge of craft energy incinerates it. You regrow the arm back quickly and grab your dagger, as Mirabelle charges at Loop.

Loop easily sidesteps the attack without flinching, and then without even looking, grabs Isa’s fist when they try and attack from behind.

✸ “You’re going to have to try harder then that~”

Loop tosses Isa aside, and then fires another craft at you, as you dodge by mere inches!

Wait- You block the followup blow, as they closed the gap in the cover. Of course, you know that move!

You slash back at him, trying to hit him, but he dances just out of range. He knows your moves too.

Bonnie fires at him from behind, but he vanishes away into the shadows.

◆ “Fighting awfully hard for someone trying to die.”

✸ “If you can’t kill me, you won’t be ready when dear Stardust becomes a danger!”

▲ “Sif isn’t gonna do that.”

Loop appears from above, dive bombing Odile. Mira sets up a craft shield to block the blow, while Isa pulls her out the way.

✸ “HAHA!!!! But I’m proof they COULD!!!! And If you aren’t ready for that… Then I’d best remove that possibility~”

They fall into the earth, and you block the blow from your side. You knew it! They still fight like you somewhat! You snap your fingers to speed up Odile, who takes the opening to blast loop back into the tree.

✦̵ “Which is why you’re fighting like me, aren’t you?”

◉ “Wait, They are! Okay! We can work with that, circle up and protect each others openings!”

As the others close in around you, back to back, Loop begins to laugh, staring you down, perched in front of the tree.

✸ “Oh, think you Know me? YOU THINK I’M THE SAME AS DEAR LITTLE STARDUST???”

They pull their mask off their face.

✸ “Then I’d best change up my tune~ After all…”

Loop smashes the mask against the ground, and thousands of bright red, glowing flowers bloom around you all. Spider Lilies?

Loop plucks one from the earth.

✸ “I was made with a lot more then just Stardust~”

Loop crushes the flower in their hands, and their stance changes. They stand more straight, more calculating. A more serious, and uncannily familiar expression crosses their face. The bits of flower wither and transform into black crystal, slowly taking the vague form of a book.... Wait!

✦̵ “Mira, Shield!”

Mira crafts as quick as she can before a massive blast of craft energy slams into you all! Even with the shield, it knocks you all off your feet, and stings a bit.

Loop chuckles, in a voice not their own, their own voice only a faint echo behind their new, all too familiar voice.

◆ “Oh gems, I might have overdone it. Ah well.”✸

◆ “Right, That’s disconcerting.”

◆ “Well within Siffrin’s capabilities, I assure you. If only I’d stopped them when I had the chance…”✸

BANG

Loop narrowly blocks the shot with their book, as it starts to shatter. Isa runs around and tries to tackle them while their distracted, and Loop has to dive out of the way.

✿ “Don’t act like Dile! And Stop trying to hurt Frin!!! They’d never hurt us!”

BANG

Isa takes a hit in the shoulder, as Loop suddenly has a mimicry of a pistol in their hand, and an innocent yet terrified face.

✿ “But if Frin wouldn’t hurt us, How’d I end up like this?! It hurt so much! It hurt so much…”✸

Bonnie shakes hearing that. NO. That’s too far.

You charge at Loop, driving the dagger straight into the earth beside them, just managing to cut open their flank. They scramble to their feet, with another flower in hand.

Crystal forms into a rapier, as Loop heals themselves with craft. Their face is a familiar, determined look. Their stance unwavering.

◉ “Just stop it! We don’t want to hurt you!”

◉ “Neither did we! And we died for it! I won’t let you go the same way! We have to protect you!”✸

Mirabelle charges at Loop, who parries her attack. The two duel for a brief few seconds before Isa charges in the way, as Loop ducks under the blow.

They slide backwards, and grab another flower. Crushing it quickly, their hands become coated in crystal, and they charge at Mira, making several swings at her.

▲ “We might not like it, but that doesn’t make it better! We just gotta know you can handle it, please! I can’t let that happen to Sif again! We have to know you can stop it if it would!”✸

Isa jumps in, putting themselves between Mira and Loop, and holding back their blows.

▲ “Nobody is dying today, got it? If the worst happens, we’ll find a better way then this!”

You can’t take any more of this. Can’t take any more of hearing versions of them who died. Can’t take this fighting.

You unravel, and grab Loop while their preoccupied, and fling them against the favor tree, then leap towards them, and try to wear them down in a flurry of fangs and tendrils.

✦̵ “That’s enough! I’m not gonna let that happen, never again!”

✸ “… Then why. Are you BLINDING. HESITATING?!?!”

Loop grabs a limb and throws you back towards the party.

✸ “...I expected them to hesitate. They always did... But YOU?!?! YOU KNOW THE STAKES!!!!”

Loop vanishes, and the earth starts to shift. The world itself begins to tilt. Their voice seems to echo from everywhere at once.

✸ “hahahaHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!! Even when face to face with the monster within, When you FINALLY have the chance to kill it for good, YOU CAN’T BLINDING DO IT?!?!?”

The ground keeps tilting, and you grab your family, bringing them to the tree before they lose their footing and fall into the sky. You all stand upon the branches of the tree, hoping they’ll hold you up.

✸ “MAYBE you need a REMINDER.”

As the world becomes completely flipped, the flowers begin to drip a dark red substance. But you can smell what it is…

✿ “What’s happening? What’s coming from the flowers?”

✦̵ “Blood. I-It smells like blood.”

Stars not this nightmare. Nonononono

Faces start to form in the dark abyss below, rising into view. Blood-formed images of your family. Thousands of them. Their eyes lifeless, their bodies mangled. Staring at you. Screaming in pain.

◆ “Gems alive!”

◉ “Change!”

✿ “No no no that's not okay!”

You can’t help but shake, and grip the tree for dear life.

▲ “S-Sif? You okay?”

✸ “Of course not, they’ve had this nightmare every other night for almost a blinding year now!!!! Because even if YOU all deny it, It never left THEIR mind!!!!!! THEY ALWAYS KNEW!!!! KNEW WHAT I AM COULD BECOME REAL!!!!”

✦̵ “Nonononononono I won’t hurt them I won’t hurt them I won’t hurt them I won’t hurt them”

You won’t hurt them you won’t hurt them you won’t hurt them It’s not real it can’t be real please don’t let it be real you wouldn’t you wouldn’t!!!!

◆ “Snap out of it Siffrin!”

▲ “We’re right here, just stay calm!”

✸ “That didn’t stop it before.”

Loop appears. But their stance. No. It’s all to familiar. Their stance is that of a feral beast. A horn of crystal forms on their head. A claw forms on one hand. And a dagger in the other. A cloak of shadows, barely visible. And the moment they open their mouth, the voices quiet, and harmonize with them.

✦̵ “We can’t let them die. We have. To stop. The monster.”✸

They let out a manic laugh. They lift their face. Their eyes are dark voids, as tears flow down their face, contorted into a twisted smile.

✸ “So it ends here. One way, or another.”✦̵

They charge right at you. You can barely breath, the blood is making it hard to think! Gotta.. Gotta..

Isa blocks the blow before it can reach you.

✸ “BLINDING KILL ME!!!!! KILL US BEFORE WE HURT YOU AGAIN!!!!!!”✦̵

▲ “No! We can find a better way!”

✸ “No You CAN’T!!! Even I struggled to pull Stardust from the brink! YOU’LL DIE IF YOU TRY!!!!”✦̵

◆ “Wait, What do you mean by that?”

Nonononononono please don’t tell them!!!!

Loop sees your expression, and their grin widens.

✸ “HAHAHA Oh I didn’t mention?!? The king was one CRUEL MONSTER!!!! By their hand, Stardust already has a taste for human!! I won’t say which one!!! But when they came back, well… It’s a good thing I had a corpse ready!!!”✦̵

You choke. The smell is sickening, the memory still in your mind, and the corpses of your family still stare you down. You can’t move you can’t breathe they're all horrified and you can’t move!

Loop tosses Isa aside, and continues to charge at you.

Odile slows them with craft, straining herself to bring them to a crawl.

◆ “Siffrin! Get it together!”

✦̵ “Blood. Can’t. Think.”

There’s so much and every breathe just brings in more, and you can’t, you can’t!!!

✸ “SEE??? EVEN NOW THEY HAVE TO FIGHT IT!!! Even with AGES WORTH of getting away from it, EVEN WHEN FRESHLY FED, they can BARELY handle it!!!! And TRUST ME, I’d be FAR WORSE!!!!”✦̵

◆ “Gems this is bad.”

Loop takes advantage of her distraction and throws their knife directly at her, hitting her hand and disrupting the slow. Mira throws a quick heal at Odile, and then crafts a shield to block Loop from you.

◉ “Siffrin! You can do this! Prove them wrong!”

Mira… You... You can’t let her down. You shakily try and get to your feet. You wrap a tendril around the other side of Mira’s shield, trying to grab Loop and restrain them. They break out with ease.

✸ “STOP HESITATING!!!! I THOUGHT YOU LEARNED YOUR LESSON WITH THE KING??? YOU. CAN’T. SPARE. MONSTERS!!!!”✦̵

They take their claw and smash through Mira’s shield, grabbing her by the throat and tossing her aside.

You can still barely move, you’re shaking too bad. Loop continues to charge and-

Stops. Because Bonnie. Put themselves in the way. Arms outstretched. Not defending themselves.

✸ “… Clever, Bonbon.”✦̵

✿ “Y-Yeah! You won’t hurt us!”

✸ “… I can’t lose you all again, that's true.... But you misunderstand.”✦̵

Loop grabs Bonnie and vanishes with them. They reappear, hovering in the air just beyond the branches, holding Bonnie up with one hand. A new crystalline knife in the other.

✸ “I won’t KILL you.”✦̵

They bring the knife up to Bonnie’s eye! NO!!

YOU WON’T LET THEM!!!!!!

You reach out with your tendrils and grab Loop, and then, with a single motion.

You dig a fang into their heart.

✸ “Ah!”✦̵

The distortion shatters like glass...... as the world suddenly returns to normal.

Your family drops to the ground, including Bonnie, with Loop having released their grip. You wrap yourself around the tree, Holding yourself up, and holding Loop in place, slowly turning them upright.

✸ “Do it, stardust. Please.”

✦̵ “...No. Not after everything.”

✸ “….”

✦̵ “Wasn’t the whole point to not hurt anyone again?”

Loop just stares at you silently...

✸ “… Why. Why did it have to go this way?”

You slowly lower the both of you back down to the ground. The others start to get up.

Bonnie walks up to Loop, as you let them go. Bonnie has a scratch on their cheek, but is otherwise unharmed. Loop’s heart is cracked a little. But otherwise fine. Tears run down Loops cheek.

Bonnie hugs Loop.

✿ “… Cause you’re both stupid crabs who don’t talk about stuff.”

✸ “...Hah. I guess we are?”

You meander towards the both of them. And just put a hand on Loop’s shoulder.

✦̵ “...Sorry I put you through that...”

✸ “Well. If I’m not dying here, I guess you might experience it anyways.”

◆ “...Loop. Care to get this Fool Arcana to chat?"

Odile smiles a bit.

◆ “… I still have a Coinflip to win, and might as well use it on something that matters.”

Loop thinks for a second. Then tosses Odile a silver coin. The same one you carry around.

✸ “… They say Heads, I go to Stardust, Tails, I go with them... And that they already know the result.”

Odile nods. And Holds the coin out. She takes a deep breath. And flips.

… You look at the coin, laying in the grass. Tails.

✸ “… Guess they haven't had enough of me yet…"

Odile chuckles to herself. Guess she got that wish.

✸ “...Thank you.”

Odile walks over to them, and puts a hand on their shoulder.

◆ “Of course... Heh, Such a drama queen, all this over nothing.”

◉ “D-Does that mean this is the last we see of you?”

Mirabelle sort of hovers, nervous.

✸ “… Maybe. Not that we have time for proper goodbyes~”

You look, and see Loop is fading away slowly already.

▲ “Then... If you get the chance, you better say Hi. I’m pretty sure you’re part of the group now!”

✸ “...Of course. I promise… But can you promise me one thing?”

You all nod. They look at your family members. Before closing their eyes. And in several voices, speak.

✸◆✿◉▲ “Take care of them for us, Okay?”

Everyone else is kind of taken aback for a second.

◉ “… We will.”

✿ “Can do!”

◆ “As if it was in doubt?”

▲ “No problem!”

You sit there for a second.

✦̵ “…I will too.”

✸ “...Good… You really are, frankly, quite helpless without them, Stardust!”

Loops body starts to fade away into nothing.

✸ “...Farewell.”

As their body finally dissipates into nothing, you see a small, red light appear on the ground where they sat. As a single, bright red Spider-Lily blooms in their place.

✦̵ “Sorry, to all of you. And… Thank you. Loop.”

You all take a moment of Silence. Just looking at this site.

▲ “...Let’s go. I think this has been a long day for all of us.”

You nod. You just lean up against Isa. Your family heads up to the house, to talk with Euphrasie, and clear up any last minute mess.

As the Morning sun shines down around you, with your family by your side. You feel content.

Your brain keeps telling you that things won’t go well but. You ignore it.

Because somehow. You know this will work out.

… The road is long. But. You know that, for the first time. In a long. LONG time. Really, truly, in every sense...

You are no longer alone.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

In the light the sins are burned

From deepest black they have been turned

For family the monster lives

Nigredo past, To Hope they give

Yet can they withstand purification?

In Albedo they will find life. Or damnation.

[x-i-l-verify]

「Dream SMP Daemon AU 」

    ◈ BAD BOY HALO + SKEPPY (GOLEM) ◈

Nether denizens deposit their Dust in physical objects that then gain a sentience of their own instead of having projected facets – such as daemons – like Overworld denizens. But while Piglins forge living weapons, Nether demons build animate golems out of rock or metal. Golem-building is an intuitive and sacred process that begins when demons are still infants. The first time an imp laughs, a grand party is thrown, with everyone in the community invited. Every adult brings one small crystal, rock, gem, or chunk of ore, and the imp is presented with all of them. The rock the baby is drawn to first becomes their phylactery, put in an enchanted, protected pouch worn on a string around their necks and kept with them at all times. Their Dust accumulates in the rock they chose, and develops a sentience of its own during the imp's childhood.

When the imp turns the equivalent of seven, they begin construction work on their phylactery’s outer shell, the golem. First, they choose a building material, which can be the same as the phylactery, but usually is different. The imp will mine for enough construction supplies and learn crafting techniques pertinent to the material they chose. It is also customary for the imp’s parents or caretakers to add a piece or two of their own golems into their offspring’s as it's being constructed. (For example, Bad’s phylactery is a chunk of pink scapolite with a golem shell made of diamond, which has obsidian eyes from his dam’s golem, and a ruby tongue from his sire’s.)

Whenever the child finishes constructing their golem, usually sometime during early to mid-adolescence, they are considered “settled,” a mature, adult demon. A ceremony is done wherein the imp’s parents and their golems transfer their phylactery to a special chamber inside the imp's golem, which then fuses with and animates the previously inanimate material. Golems choose their own names, always derived from the material their core is made from.

Phylacteries are only capable of communicating through impressions and emotions, much like a piglin's morai-kelul. Once they obtain a shell and become a golem, they gain an audible voice of their own and become capable of verbal speech. Golems are always the same gender as their demon.

Because the phylactery is safely encased in a strong, protective shell, demons have no issue whatsoever with touching each other's golems. However, touching someone’s phylactery without their consent is taboo, a crime tantamount to rape. There is no limit to how far a demon can go from their golem as long as they do not try to leave the Nether, the Overworld, the End, or their server without them. If this happens, the demon will instantly become like a zombie, with a living body but no conscious mind. It is not uncommon to see demons walking around without their golems and vice versa, and they are masters of multitasking because of this. However, this has also led to some Overworlders viewing demons as soulless monsters because of their visible lack of a facet.

Golems are very tough, but it is still possible to damage or pry open their shell to get to the phylactery within. If the phylactery is broken or shattered, the demon will instantly perish, and the golem will become an inert statue. It is customary for dead golems to be broken down into crafting materials for other projects, usually for a building or a weapon, but sometimes they will be left whole as a memorial to the dearly departed.

Bad is ambitious, conflict-avoidant, anxious, and empathetic. Skeppy is Bad’s id personified; impulsive, blunt, easygoing, and chaotic to the extreme.

~

NAME MEANING "Skeppy" is derived from scapolite, the term for a group of minerals that are essentially complex silicates of aluminum, calcium, and sodium, which can be used as semiprecious stones. They are considered symbols of inner peace, personal growth, and faithfulness to oneself, able to help individuals see what is truly important, find their true calling in life, and face difficulties and responsibilities head on instead of avoiding them.

~

SOURCES https://www.jewelsforme.com/gem_and_jewelry_library/scapolite

[torturecave]

[uploading an answer from my retrospring, just bc i wanna document trolls-related things on here.]

whats you and avvys opinion on velvet in veneer from trolls 3 ?

We like them! They're good villains, I like that they carry the theme of: siblings. :) Speaking honestly, I do really think it is smart to have your villains' conflict be similar to your protagonists; the conflict between Velvet and Veneer isn't so dissimilar from what BroZone deals with at the start of the film. JD is overly controlling and micro-managing his brothers, preoccupied with their fame, associating all their value with being 'perfect'... Meanwhile Velvet feels the same, willing to do w/e it takes for her and Veneer to succeed — without their fame, they'll be "nobodies", there's no point in being anything less than super famous celebrities.

Now what makes me sad is that Veneer adores Velvet so much that he is willing to defer to her, regardless of how he gets treated. He's not quite like the self-respecting Clay and Spruce of the past, who get fed up with JD's treatment, walk out on him. I feel like it's a testament to how attached Velvet and Veneer are, that Veneer can't even conceptualize it being different without Floyd's suggestion. Sad puppy about it... Need to be there for sister? :( Though, I even get the impression that Velvet would be lost without him... Er. She seems, unstable, in a particular way, makes me feel like it drove their peers away growing up. Naturally isolating for Velvet to be so self-centered and pushy, unaccommodating. Explosive.

It's played for laughs BUT, me and Avvy try and internalize that in Velvet's perspective, her and Veneer came from nothing and had a terrible childhood kfkfjhg... That's. Her reality! Her parents made her feel attacked and like a victim. Regardless of whatever is 'true'... It makes her actions feel pathological and like she really can't, help it, or check herself. So between this and the two feeling very attached, I find myself sympathizing with Velvet a lot more than with JD... who just comes off as a normal jerkish guy LOL. I think his complex is like, annoying, because he doesn't even like doing it, so it's weirdly self-imposed and ignoring the protest of his brothers. I at least feel as though Velvet ENJOYS when things are going 'well' for them, she is relishing in it more, and Veneer is mostly her yes-man, not fighting her. They're like, thotting out, languishing in their luxury, at the very least.

I like their scenes overall, I like their dialogue back and forth, ehh I especially like their strange, ostentatious kitty outfits in that interview, it's just INTERESTING... The vibes ongoing here. They're a bit weird with one another in a way that's like... lol... [watches......] Though I will be real, these designs are not actually horny for us. We just feel like a general appreciation for them?

I'll say in general it's good what the rageons are adding, having these weird betty spaghetty dolls in this craft world, it's like yeah sure! Especially in tandem with the muppety hacky sack guys on Vacay Island. We're all for expanding the variety of 'races' in the world, I enjoy going beyond the dichotomy of Bergen vs Troll. In fact, bergens wind up feeling really distinct, pretty 'organic' feeling compared to these other two... I like that rageons feel boneless and rubbery, their clothes feel like some real polly pocket snap-on pieces, the architecture feeling like playset crystals, perfume bottles... Even the 'fruits' that Crimp loads into the smoothie-machine are soo fake looking, very different from what Bergen food looks like! Greasy pizza and fries, verrry different feel to it all.

Trolls is the kind of franchise where you just enjoy being shown Things in the world, the enrichment is knowing... 'oh, there's a place like this, and these things are possible as well!' I mean just hearing about Veneer's monkey makes us go UGHHh whats that look like, must be so different from fuzzy monkey-like creatures you'll see in the woods near Pop troll village, aouauu what is it some solid color plastic monkeys-in-a-barrel lookin' thing... That is the delight experienced. So it's stimulating to be shown a new location and new inhabitants. Fun bonus that I like Velvet and Veneer as individuals. :)

[mostthingskenobi]

CASSIAN'S RECKONING - Chapter 7: The Salt

CHAPTER SUMMARY: Jyn needs a minute to herself. Tarkin is more ruthless than ever. All I can say is poor Cassian.

(I have to laugh at my own mediocre photoshop job on that cover photo LOL!!!!!)

I would say this is probably one of the more brutal chapters…

READ THE FIC ON AO3

THIS IS A WHUMPY FIC W/GRAPHIC DEPICTIONS OF VIOLENCE. PLEASE HEED THE TAGS ON AO3.

——————–

CHAPTER 7: THE SALT

Jyn had an hour to kill while the mechanics finished fueling and loading the Patrol Craft into a bulk cruiser. She had checked her gear and then made the rounds with her crew, making sure all the necessary elements were in place. Now the worst of it began, the waiting, the second guessing. Her imagination ran wild with worry as visions of Cassian in pain snuck into her consciousness. She hated that her mind could come up with such awful scenarios, but, ultimately, she knew whatever she imagined was nothing compared to what he actually endured.

She made her way through the base, retracing the steps she and Cassian had walked a few days prior. She wound a course past the barracks, into a dark, narrow passage that led to the higher-ranking officers’ quarters. Privacy on Yavin was scarce; most of the grunts, Jyn included, slept in a giant room filled floor-to-ceiling and end-to-end with bunks. Rogue Squad had a little corner where they all slept near each other, except for Cassian. Due to his rank and position in Rebel Intelligence, he’d been assigned a private room slightly larger than a maintenance closet.

Jyn went there now, pausing at the door and looking around to make sure no one saw her before she punched the access code into the keypad—only she and Cassian knew it. Being inside without his permission felt wrong, like she was violating his privacy, but she needed to feel him, be near his energy to clear the fear from her mind.

Nothing untoward had ever happened in this tiny room; it had simply become a place where they retreated to sip booze or play cards or talk when Scarif nightmares made it impossible to sleep. Rogue One was the family Jyn needed; she loved each member for different reasons, and would lay down her life to protect them. But Cassian’s friendship had become something deeper, something nourishing, comforting, familiar, nonjudgmental, easy, trustworthy. The whole crew had been through a lot together and had seen each other in their darkest moments. But when Cassian wrapped his body around her on Scarif’s beach, whispering that he would hold her until they died, her heart had been pierced. She had never felt so afraid and so safe at the same time.

Jyn and Cassian’s bond was forged in kyber and blood and brutal truth. They shared an unspoken trust that was more meaningful to Jyn than any romantic overture. And though they were both too afraid to confess anything deeper than friendship, too afraid to disturb the private good they shared, she knew she would care about Cassian Andor until she took her last breath.

His brown Corellian-cut field jacket lay tossed across his neatly made bunk. She reached out and clutched it into her hands, her fingers closing over the familiar, sturdy fabric. She traced the transponder sewn into the chest where she knew Cassian concealed a “lullaby” suicide pill. He would never use it, she thought. Though right now he probably wishes he had brought this with him.

The thought made her lightheaded. Jyn felt a chill run up her spine and she quickly sat down on the bed, overwhelmed with the sense that she could feel Cassian through the universe’s ether. The kyber crystal her mother had tied around her neck suddenly felt warm against her skin. A vision flashed through her mind and she saw Cassian’s long eyelashes fluttering as water poured over him, burning cuts on his body.

Her fists tightened around the jacket, squeezing it until the frightening sensations drained away. I’m coming, she thought, willing the message across the galaxy to wherever her friend was suffering. Don’t let go, Cassian.

She looked down at the jacket in her hands, her knuckles white and bloodless from crushing it in her grip. Jyn hesitated for a moment, as though afraid someone might see her, before pressing the jacket to her face, breathing deeply. It smelled like his aftershave and fresh air, flooding her with a hundred tiny memories.

The balm fortified her resolve. Jyn was going to get Cassian back, or die trying.

——————–

When Tarkin, the IT-O droid, and the death troopers returned, they came with an air of bloodthirsty savagery. Cassian knew he’d seen his last shred of mercy.

The troopers circled him and each took hold of his body in a different spot—his feet, his hands, his neck and face. Their gloved fists tightened and Cassian clenched his teeth in anticipation.

“I’ve had a chance to review your interrogation footage,” Tarkin launched in without prelude. “I noticed something quite interesting.”

Cassian refused to take the bait, biting back a retort, determined that fear would not get the better of him.

“You swallow your pain.” Tarkin’s brow arched severely with amusement. “You almost never scream.” He strode forward until he was towering over the rebel. “What kind of man endures relentless torment with nary a sound?” He hooked a finger under Andor’s chin and forced his head up. “We created you, didn’t we? Hung your father in the town square. Sent you to prison as a child. Let your mother die as our suffocating grip tightened around Ferrix. And countless other perceived wrongs not in our official records.”

Cassian burned with rage at the mention of these painful memories and the casualness with which the Grand Moff paraded them out like afterthoughts. His youth had crumbled with each loss, a childhood, a family, stolen by the Empire. Andor began to shake with emotion, with a fire he had never been able to fully stamp out. He couldn’t hold it back any longer.

His father had hung in the Ferrix snow for weeks. Cassian had to walk by the body nearly every day on his way to school.

And his mother, her love as sharp and enduring as her pointed opinions, had died cold and alone, without her son by her side for comfort.

Tarkin’s nostrils flared as he nearly bared his teeth like a predator. “You, the Rebellion,” he said, revulsion dripping from every word, “you’re a by-product, an inevitability. The Empire is creating order out of chaos, and as we contract our hold, collateral damage is certain.” He grasped Andor roughly by the chin, barely containing his own rage. “You think your righteous anger exempts you from stepping into the new order. No more. It’s time for you to learn your place.”

He released Cassian and stepped back, nodding to the death troopers. Their gauntleted hands instantly tightened, twisting into the rebel’s flesh, ripping open all the wounds the IT-O droid had made the day before. They rubbed his face and neck, scraped over his chest and hands, until each thin cut bled afresh, dripping down his skin in rivulets.

Cassian cried out, desperately trying to pull away, curling inward as much as his restraints allowed.

The troopers retreated as Tarkin approached once again. He gripped a fistful of the prisoner’s hair and wrenched his head up. “We will eventually tear a scream from your throat,” he snarled.

The young man glared at the Grand Moff, his body still shaking. Tarkin seemed to have forgotten that Maarva Andor, speaking from beyond the grave, had inspired the insurrection on Ferrix. Her barbed rhetoric lifted a community long exploited by the Empire. And Tarkin obviously didn’t know her son had been there to witness it. Maarva’s words came back to Cassian now as he looked into his oppressor’s eyes. “The Empire is a disease that thrives in darkness.” His voice was strained but he spoke with conviction. “It is never more alive than when we sleep.”

Tarkin’s lip curled. “Flood the reservoir with sea water,” he barked at the droid.

Cassian’s eyes widened, knowing the agony that was coming. He felt the blood dripping from his wounds and imagined rubbing salt into each one. “It's easy for the dead to tell you to fight,” he continued, anger building in his heart.

“Tell me the names of every rebel with you on Scarif,” Tarkin demanded.

“Maybe it's true, maybe fighting is useless.” Cassian refused to look away from the Grand Moff, refused to break eye contact. He felt Maarva’s spirit rushing through his veins, renewing his strength. “Perhaps it's too late. But I'll tell you this...”

“Last chance, Captain Andor.”

“If I could do it again, I'd wake up early and be fighting these bastards from the start. Fight the Empire!”

Tarkin released him and moved far enough away to avoid getting soaked as the IT-O droid activated the water nozzle above the rebel.

When the salty sea water seared across his wounds, Cassian screamed.

——————–

END NOTES

NEXT CHAPTER IS CALLED “THE POWER" - Cassian tries to mentally spar with Tarkin but is nearing his breaking point. Jyn receives special instructions from Draven right as she's about to leave on her rescue mission.

Thank you for reading!

Likes, comments, and reblogs are very welcome!

Much love!

——————–

READ IT ON AO3- Kudos and Comments Welcome :-)

READ CHAPTER 1 “The Razor”

READ CHAPTER 2 “The Scythe”

READ CHAPTER 3 “The Cold”

READ CHAPTER 4 “The Expendable”

READ CHAPTER 5 “The Truth”

READ CHAPTER 6 “The Detritus”

READ CHAPTER 7 "The Salt"

READ CHAPTER 8 “The Power”

READ CHAPTER 9 “The Betrayal”

READ CHAPTER 10 “The Ruse”

READ CHAPTER 11 "The Reprieve"

READ CHAPTER 12 “The Ghosts”

READ CHAPTER 13 “The Redemption”

READ CHAPTER 14 “The Spoils”

READ CHAPTER 15 “The Interrogation”

READ CHAPTER 16 "The Rogues"

READ CHAPTER 17 “The Absolution”

READ CHAPTER 18 “The Reach”

READ CHAPTER 19 “The Hologram”

READ CHAPTER 20 “The Divide”

READ CHAPTER 21 “The Cost”

READ CHAPTER 22 “The Fallout”

READ CHAPTER 23 “The Wounds”

READ CHAPTER 24 “The Hand”

READ CHAPTER 25 “The Heart”

READ CHAPTER 26 “The Beginning”

[toonabby]

Three days until Christmas (sorry I skipped out on the first two days)

(April 2024 update to fix spelling mistakes)

Since Christmas is three days away I'm just gonna list out a bunch of foreign, non-Japanese animation that debuted this year. I'm just gonna keep this first entry short and sweet:

The Girl Downstairs

I really liked the more laid-back tone of the series focusing on the male lead, a drop-out idol who lives at his apartment downstairs, and his college friends. Speaking of which I adore stories that are set in college and I want more works from SoL genre (or any genre in general) to take place in college, ESPECIALLY anime. I am sick and tired of anime only taking place in high schools especially when the dreaded "fanservice" trope is involved... 😒 (I also found out it was based on an ongoing webtoon as well as being one of the two adaptations released this year - the other being a live-action Netflix series called Doona!)

Xyrin Empire

Rare harem W Maybe its me excluding this (and DAL) from the terrible harem animes solely because its made in a different country from the same continent AND has CG animation that isn't god awful, but from what I seen of the first few episodes or so its not that. Not that good either since it falls into the tropes common in anime (the "boring but overpowered" MC, the love rivals, the 'tsundere' childhood friend, "really 300+ year old" childlike character who wears age-inappropriate attire), but I can at least tolerate this show compared to other works from this genre and even with the tropes there not as awful and apparent as the other harem animes, but that's probably because I haven't watched much from this show.

Rainbow Bubblegem

If this was an anime, then I'll pay my life-savings for what would be a return of the traditional Magical Girl genre in a loooong while after we've been bombarded with PMMM wannabees that fall in the "ow the edge" territory while forgetting what made MadoMagi phenomenal for the genre in the first place, remakes of old Magical Girl animes (e.g. Sailor Moon Crystal and Tokyo Mew Mew New), and the Precure franchise being the sole survivor of the traditional magical girl genre. I really like the premise that is essentially a combination of H2O: Just Add Water, Miraculous Ladybug, and Sailor Moon, and how Red Ruby (on of the main characters) isn't just a stereotypical alpha bitch, no she's actually helpful and friendly to the main girl, if a bit self-centered.

As for the shows I started to get invested in....

Foster's Home for Imaginary Friends (2004)

This is a childhood of mine that resurfaced in my mind. Out of all of the Cartoon Network shows this one is my personal favorite, and I'm really excited on what the new preschool show spin-off will take us to. That, and me being a Bloo fan since I've started remembering this show. "It's hoooooot in to-pe-kaaaaaaaaaaaaaa."

Ba Da Bean (2021)

I adore the show's aesthetic of an arts and crafts-laden environment where everything and I mean EVERYTHING was made out of art (such as the houses being cardboard boxes or an impossible bottle) and the 'fish out of water' premise of a science project from a school's science lab transferring to an art class where he gets to meet and befriends the town's residents while also having a knack for science. I love the dynamic between Bean and Cosa too. Kami the origami bibliophile is my favorite solely because of how relatable she is (I'm also an introvert). That's of course mnot even mentioning the impressive voice cast of the English dub such as Stephanie Panisello (Resident Evil's Claire Redfield and Genshin Impact's Cloud Retainer/Xianyun), Suzie Yeung (Chainsaw Man's Makima, Genshin Impact's Eula, and HSR's Hanya), Amber "FoxyVox" May (Genshin Impact's Dehya and HSR's Yanqing), Dino Andrade (Zuzubaland's Zuzu, whose dub coincidentally was also recorded by the studio that recorded BDB's dub, BangZoom!), and Kelly Baskin (Genshin Impact's Amber and Azure Striker Gunvolt 3's Kirin), with four of the working on Genshin Impact and two on Honkai: Star Rail.

FriendZSpace (2021)

I'll be real. Had it not been for the official YouTube channel uploading all of the BangZoom dubbed episodes (plus the Discovery Kids LA YT channel uploading a few clips of the eps in Spanish), this show would've likely become lost media. When I first watched the show in English I enjoyed it, and I was actually surprised that one of the sealife characters in the first episode was voiced by Melissa Fahn, and I couldn't believe it at first glance she sounded nothing like the other roles Fahn played. Other than that I loved the show and wised I got more from it.

Underdogs United (2022)

For the most part, I didn't even acknowledge that this show was an actual thing until a year later; even the more obscure cartoons from South America at least had a cult following. Even less was me acknowledging this show is a TV adaptation/spin-off of Metegol, a movie with three of the main Foosball players (Capi, Beto, and Loco - the precursor to Kiko) being transplanted there with a bunch of original characters. Hell, the company and producer of the original film (MundoLoco CGI and Juan J. Campanella respectively) also made UU, and Metegol itself is an adaptation of Memoirs of a Right Winger - a short story by Roberto Fontanarrosa that film loosely based itself on. In other words, a TV series about Foosball figures living in a sport-centric world spun-off from a movie about said Foosball figures coming to life in the real world which was loosely adapted from a short-story by an author from Argentina who died 6 years before the movie came out....

Anyways, of the characters I like in UU, it's THE BETO! His personality can be basically described with any adjective for self-centeredness. He's so egotistical that his spot in the intro has him flexing his muscles after he kicks the ball, AND THEN looks at the camera with smug-ish eyebrows and puckered lips. But what I really like about him is not his selfishness but rather the fact that he is deep-down a kind and friendly individual who cares for his allies and would even put aside his arrogance to help others. That's what I like about him - he's selfish, but not too selfish to the point of being annoying. He's obsessed with his looks and popularity but when the chips are down, he'll prioritize the safety of his allies and his loved ones over his own.

[beachsidemaldives]

Discover Ultimate Luxury at Kooddoo Maldives Private Island

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Kooddoo Island, home to the Mercure Maldives Kooddoo Resort, operates its airport under the same name. This resort, a part of the renowned Accor Hotels’ Mercure brand, marks Accor’s debut in the Maldives, promising a new level of convenience and comfort for holidaymakers.

For travelers seeking swift transfers from their flights to luxurious villas within minutes, day or night, Kooddoo Resort presents an appealing option. Unlike the high-end exclusivity of resorts like Amilla Fushi, W Maldives, or Velaa Private Island, Kooddoo Resort is a 4-star property catering perfectly to middle-class guests.

In Kooddoo Maldives private island has a total of 68 villas, the resort boasts 43 Water Villas, 25 Beach Villas, and 20 villas featuring private pools. Kooddoo takes pride in its Sunset Overwater Pool Villas, which are claimed to be top-notch. Although not physically seen yet, the allure of the lagoon, ideal for snorkeling or enjoying a private sunset, adds to the appeal. Some Water Villas sit on the house reef, providing a unique experience. For those celebrating special occasions like honeymoons or anniversaries, reaching out to reserve a corner room might be worthwhile. However, room confirmations typically occur a day before arrival based on availability.

Situated amidst the Maldives map between the local islands of Vilingili and Maamendhoo, Kooddoo Island stands close to both, reachable within minutes by boat from their nearest points.

Gaa Alifu Atoll and Gaafu Dhaalu Atoll, located in the southern region of the Maldives, boast rich biodiversity and a vibrant cultural heritage. While Dhivehi is the common language spoken by locals across the Maldives, this region features its distinct dialect, making it challenging for outsiders to comprehend the locals’ speech fully.

About Mercure Maldives Kooddoo Resort

The Maldives captivate with their pristine beaches, rich culture, and luxurious resorts. It’s a tropical paradise, boasting white sandy shores and crystal-clear turquoise waters that beckon beach lovers and those seeking serenity. Imagine putting a pin on your travel map for this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity – the Maldives promises a space in your heart. The Island of Romance exceeds all expectations with its natural beauty, drawing couples to create unforgettable memories. Think candlelit dinners by the shore, stargazing under a blanket of stars, and leisurely walks along the beach with your partner.

Among the many resorts, the Mercure Maldives Kooddoo Resort stands out with its overwater sunset pool villas, fulfilling every traveler’s desires. These midscale water villas blend Maldivian tradition with elegant design, creating a comfortable and captivating environment. Picture yourself relaxing under palm trees, feet in the soft sand, surrounded by the stunning aquamarine waters – just some of the highlights at the Mercure Maldives Kooddoo Resort. Located on the lush Kooddoo Island near Gaafu Alifu Atoll in the southern part of the Maldives, it’s a slice of paradise waiting to be explored.

Here is the list of the best resorts in Kooddoo Maldives Private Island.

Beach Villa

Overwater Villa

Over Water Sunset Villa

Beach Pool Villa

Over Water Sunset Pool Villa

Bedroom Family Beach Villa

Beach Villa in Kooddoo Maldives Private Island

“Beach Villa Maldives” is a unique accommodation in the stunning Maldives islands. These villas offer an exquisite experience right by the turquoise waters and powdery white sands. They’re your haven, combining luxurious comfort with the beauty of the beach. Imagine waking up to the gentle ocean breeze and stepping onto your private terrace to witness breathtaking views of the crystal-clear waters. These villas often come with modern amenities and a serene ambiance, creating a perfect retreat for anyone seeking relaxation and the ultimate beachside escape in the Maldives.

Overwater Villa in Kooddoo Maldives Private Island

An “Overwater Villa in the Maldives” is a magical haven suspended above the glistening turquoise waters. These villas are like your private sanctuary, perched atop wooden stilts above the ocean’s surface. Imagine waking up to the gentle lapping of waves beneath your estate and stepping onto your private deck to witness the mesmerizing expanse of the sea. These villas often boast luxurious amenities, including direct access to the crystal-clear waters for a swim or snorkel right from your doorstep. It’s a dreamy escape that combines luxury and the natural beauty of the Maldives, offering an unforgettable experience above the tranquil waters.

Over Water Sunset Villa in Kooddoo Maldives Private Island

The “Over Water Sunset Villa in the Maldives” is a breathtaking retreat suspended above the tranquil waters. These villas offer an incredible experience as the sun paints vibrant hues across the sky during sunset. Imagine unwinding on your private deck, feeling the gentle sea breeze while witnessing the mesmerizing colors of the setting sun reflecting on the water. These villas often boast luxurious amenities and direct access to the crystal-clear lagoon, creating an unforgettable setting to enjoy the beauty of nature’s evening spectacle. It’s a magical escape that combines luxury and the stunning sunsets of the Maldives, providing an extraordinary experience above the serene waters.

Beach Pool Villa in Kooddoo Maldives Private Island

The “Beach Pool Villa in the Maldives” is your slice of paradise by the sea. These villas offer a luxurious blend of beachfront living and a private pool steps away from the powdery white sands. Imagine waking up to the soothing sounds of the waves and taking a refreshing dip in your pool while basking in the island sun. These villas typically boast modern comforts and direct access to the pristine beach, creating an unforgettable experience where luxury meets the beauty of the Maldives’ coastline. It’s a dreamy escape offering the best beachside living and exclusive relaxation in your private oasis by the sea.

Over Water Sunset Pool Villa in Kooddoo Maldives Private Island

The “Over Water Sunset Pool Villa in the Maldives” is pure enchantment suspended above the azure waters. These villas redefine luxury with a private pool and an unparalleled view of the breathtaking sunset. Picture yourself relaxing on your deck, surrounded by the gentle lull of the waves as the sun paints the sky in mesmerizing colors. These villas often boast lavish amenities and direct access to the serene lagoon, creating an unforgettable experience where luxury meets the captivating beauty of Maldivian sunsets. It’s a haven where you can savor the best of both worlds – indulgent relaxation and nature’s awe-inspiring spectacle, all from your private oasis above the tranquil waters.

Bedroom Family Beach Villa in Kooddoo Maldives Private Island

The “Bedroom Family Beach Villa in the Maldives” is a perfect sanctuary for your family’s getaway. These villas offer a cozy and welcoming space right by the beach, designed to accommodate families seeking comfort and togetherness. Imagine a spacious bedroom layout where everyone can unwind and create lasting memories amidst the beach’s serene surroundings. These villas often provide modern amenities and easy access to the sandy shores, making it an ideal spot for families to enjoy quality time together. It’s a haven where the beauty of the Maldives meets the warmth of family bonding, creating an unforgettable retreat by the sea.

Food & Dining

Alita Restaurant, nestled within Mercure Maldives Kooddoo Resort, offers a delightful dining experience with indoor and outdoor seating. Alita serves up delicious breakfasts, lunches, and dinners from this vantage point overlooking the pool and the mesmerizing aquamarine waters of the reef. Indulge in diverse flavors and cuisines, all within reach as you dine in comfort.

For themed dining nights, there’s a palate-pleasing lineup at Alita: Asian Sundays, Seafood Mondays, Sri Lankan Tuesdays, BBQ Wednesdays, Mediterranean Thursdays, Maldivian Fridays, and International Saturdays.

At the Pool Bar in Mercure Maldives Kooddoo, unwind on a cozy lounger by the poolside while soaking in mesmerizing sea views. Sip on traditional cocktails, creative mocktails, international beers, wines, spirits, aromatic coffees, teas, refreshing juices, and soft drinks.

Experience the vibrant Vistas Gastro Bar at Mercure Maldives Kooddoo Resort, perched over the water with an unbeatable view of the island’s stunning sunsets. This lively spot is perfect for a laid-back evening, with a pool table and a separate karaoke room. Enjoy an array of delights, including TWG teas, Merki coffee, signature cocktails, mocktails, and soft drinks, and be captivated by the breathtaking sunsets.

Your dining experience at Mercure Maldives Kooddoo Resort is nothing short of extraordinary. Start your day with a floating breakfast in your private pool, savor breakfast and lunch on a secluded island while your waiter ensures impeccable service.

Indulge in unique dining experiences such as the Floating Morning Breakfast, the Lobster Night Dinner, and the Romantic Private Dinner, adding a touch of exclusivity and romance to your once-in-a-lifetime getaway at Mercure Maldives Kooddoo Resort.

Activities in Mercure Maldives Kooddoo Resort

Exploring the Depths: Scuba Diving

Dive into the vibrant marine world of Gaafu Alifu Atoll, renowned for its rich biodiversity, promising you extraordinary adventures in the Maldives. At Mercure Maldives Kooddoo Resort, SuvaDiva Divers, our PADI 5-star dive center, unveils an underwater paradise teeming with sharks, sea turtles, and rays amidst the vast blue lagoon. Please note that prices are in US dollars, including a 10% service charge and 12% GST. Insurance is mandatory.

PADI Scuba: $100 (1 boat dive with instructor + 1 lagoon training)

PADI Bubble Maker: $100 (1 lagoon pool dive)

PADI Discover Scuba Diving: $130 (1 lagoon, one boat dive & pool lesson)

Riding the Waves: Water Sports

Embark on thrilling water escapades amidst the Maldivian waters.

Windsurfing: $50

Catamaran: $50

Jetski: $100 (rental for 30 min)

Wakeboard: $25

Kayak: Complimentary

Stand up Paddleboard: Complimentary

Celebrate Special Moments

Mercure Maldives Kooddoo Resort crafts unique packages to make your romantic celebrations unforgettable. Our coordinators ensure every detail is perfect – from welcoming massages at Suvadiva Spa to intimate ceremonies with traditional Maldivian music and private seafood dinners on the pristine beach.

Suvadiva Spa offers specially curated couple massage packages, allowing you both to unwind and connect.

Inclusions & Exclusions

Inclusions vary based on the package.

Inclusions may encompass:

Airport greeting

Welcome drinks

Accommodation choices

Breakfast at Alita Restaurant (7:00 a.m. to 10:00 a.m.)

Lunch buffet at Alita Restaurant (12:00 p.m. to 2:00 p.m.)

Afternoon snacks at Alita Pool Bar (3:00 p.m. to 6:00 p.m.)

Mini-bar service for guests on All-Inclusive package (11:00 a.m. to 11:45 p.m.)

Variety of beverages

Snorkeling and non-motorized water sports

Wi-Fi access

Exclusions might include:

Local transportation

Private events

Private dive instructors

Domestic flight tickets

Opting for an all-inclusive stay at Maldives resorts grants you access to many amenities—meals, accommodations, and activities. Discover more details on the Baglioni Resort Maldives official website. Among global tourist destinations, Maldivian water villas stand out for their uniqueness, especially the Overwater villas, essential for an unparalleled Maldivian vacation experience.

[mrm101]

Update: The deorbit retro burn was conducted at 20:44UT (21 Feb) followed by return capsule separation. Landing was at 21:40UT in the USAF Utah Test & Training Range (UTTR). There was no coverage of any kind, but hopefully some pictures later. The capsule will now be returned to Los Angeles and the vials of Ritonavir will be shipped to partner 'Improved Pharma' for characterisation. Hypersonic flight data was shared with NASA and USAF. Another mission is planned later this year.

Update: Second of three burns conducted to change orbit for landing early this morning (21 Feb), no time or details given, raising the apogee of its orbit. The final burn should be the retro burn for landing. No time has been given by Varda or Rocket Lab but the FAA has between 21:05 and 21:32UT listed on its Operational Plan.

Landing tomorrow (21 Feb) will be the return capsule of Varda Space Industries W-1 'Winnibago-1'. The first of four (so far) spacecraft designed to autonomously produce 'things' in microgravity and then return the results in a small, 2.5m (3ft) diameter capsule. The products in question are things like silicon for microchips and pharmaceutical products. This first one has been producing Ritonavir crystals, a drug commonly used as an antiviral medication for HIV and hepatitis C (the reentry capsule itself can also be used to test new designs of heat shields, hypersonic sensors or communications systems etc). It was launched along with 71 other satellites on one of SpaceX's Falcon 9 (232) rideshare missions called Transporter 8 on 12 June 2023. It had been due to return in September but the FAA refused to issue a reentry license because the paperwork had not been filed correctly between them and the USAF who own the landing site (not surprising really as this would be the first such licence issued to a commercial company). Varda had been looking to land in Australia instead when the FAA granted the license on 14 February. It will be landing at the USAF Utah Test & Training Range (UTTR), the same place that the OSIRIS Rex return capsule landed, but no landing time has been posted yet.

The spacecraft and capsule have been built, and is being operated, by Rocket Lab, based on their Photon spacecraft but launched on a Falcon 9 rather than their own Electron rocket. The capsule and Photon spacecraft are pictured during launch assembly, the cylinder at the back is the multiple payload adapter ring of the Falcon 9, so the craft is the gold bit. Pic: Varda/Rocket Lab.

[hollow-writer]

Notes on Whale (Cheon Myeong-kwan)

“Whale” seeks to emulate folktales, using the fantastical to depict a world with only specious agency. The characters' stories are sprinkled with the refrain: “This is the law of …”. The law of life, of capitalism, of ideology amongst others, served as a cadence at the end of events, reminding readers of the omnipotent hands of fate from which individuals are helpless to escape. Even the acts of humans, supposedly within the realm of freedom, were governed by the “law of rumours”, the “law of inertia”, the “law of servants”, etc. At a seemingly indifferent rhythm, the laws of the human and the non-human used, maimed, emptied then thoroughly destroyed the characters we follow.

And this is the law of gender. Gendered violence was rife in all the intertwining strands of the stories, but the author never explicitly states it. Rape and beatings and all kinds of demeaning treatments fell upon women for not conforming to the patriarchal needs, and most of the time for no reason at all other than their just being women. Those who were deemed unattractive were shunned; while the beautiful ones were herded into brothels. All creatures, male and female and otherwise, were eaten and churned up by the heartless world, but it seemed to devour women with an extra-acrimonious zeal.

It is a feature of mythology that acts of resistance against the system could not escape the laws of the world, never being able to emancipate anyone. This manifests in all the major characters who rebelled. The “old crone” toiled her entire life and afterlife to take revenge on the world. Geumbok worked and schemed and harangued her way to a male position of power – just so that she could find respite from the fear the death in the same way a man would, using status and power. As they strived against the law of the world, the law that brutally restricts and represses women, they fought blindly, hitting out at anyone and anything (the old woman) or aiming for vain objectives that were only empty distractions. They were anomalies and deviants in the world, but their struggle for self-determination still fell within the cruel laws of the world. The old crone’s hatred crystallized into the murders of innocents; in other words, not knowing what the true “essence” of the world she so despised was, she acted on its laws of gratuitous deaths and suffering. Geumbok, a victim of trauma and abuse, was so hurt for so long that her virtues of craft, resourcefulness and resilience became the vices of greed, cruelty and ruthlessness. Trying to escape the fear of death led her to become the ultimate symptom of death in human life: the Sisyphean wish for wealth and status for its own sake. She could only truly embrace this development by adopting the appropriate social role identified by such characteristics – the traditional man. As such, Geumbok, too, became an instrument imposing the cold laws of the patriarchal world.

The characters reproduced the world they detested in the destruction they wrought on others, but they did not find any redress either. Arguably, the “old crone”, in seeking vengeance, only found negative rewards – harms on the world – while the positive evaded her: she did not get to make a happy life of her own with the money she earned, never got the love or respect that she desired. Meanwhile, Geumbok was haunted by death until the very last moment, and she died horrifically after having watched everything she worked for go down in flames. At the end of her life, she was once again an insignificant, short footnote in the book of time; not only that, once Pyeongdae vanished, so did she – there was no immortality to be found in memory for there was no one left who remembered her extraordinary life.

As with many folktales, “Whale” is more about ontology than about ethics, that is more about how the fantastical world functions than about what to do and how to live within it. Consequently, it did not truly matter if a character was active (Geumbok) or passive (Chunhui), kind (Mun) or evil (the man with the scar), each and every one of them was merely a puppet in a prewritten melodrama. While stripping humanity of freedom of action and control of their own lives, “Whale” gives humans a means to go on. A brief light was lit in the epilogue: “We’re disappearing for good. But don’t be scared. Just like you remembered me, you exist if someone remembers you.”. The one thing humans have left is a social and psychological path to meaning: recognition. It is in the interdependent social network where people recognize one another as respectable humans worthy of life that they can make sense of their own existence. And it is only when this recognition lives on in memories, transcending the meagre temporality of individual life, that humans can overcome the fear of death. For one only dies if one is forgotten. Chunhui is denied recognition while alive in all manners possible, but she is the only main character who lives on in one form of collective memory: mythology. It was this world’s leaving hope in  Pandora’s box: people will suffer and they will not be free, but they will always have hope anchoring them. It is crucial though that this hope is materialized through a social world, not by an alienated individual alone.

This is the law of the human condition. What I took away from reading “Whale” was this: we may not be free, we may suffer but we must find ways to provide one another with recognition. This was the ultimate tragedy of the entire cast of characters: they were alienated from one another, bound to agony as atomistic individuals, and they died as such. It is naïve and dangerous to apply fantastical tales directly to life, and we must believe in the real possibility of freedom in our real lives. However, one lesson we can take from this enchanted fever dream is to turn towards one another for hope and recognition.

[stephanieinge]

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