#foxes doing math for fun

[iwatcheditbegin]

Remember last year when people were actually doing the math and watching that jet like it was Santa’s sleigh coming straight from Tokyo

[rrrrinmaru]

calculated risk (but boy am i bad at math) (sylus x mc) (nsfw)

wc: 4.3k rating: E warnings: NSFW content, dirty talk, blowjobs, skull fucking, orgasm denial, slight spanking (ass and pussy) brief: you lose a bet to sylus and you have to do whatever he wants for 24 hours // part 2 here

It starts, as most things do with Sylus, an incredibly poor decision on your part. 

It can’t be helped—when Sylus smirks at you, one eyebrow raised as he gives you a challenging look, you know it’s only going to end in either one of both ways. You taking him up on the bet, or the both of you in a training room with you trying your damned best to figure out how many bones of his you can break.

This time, he hadn’t even disclosed what the prize would be. “Patience, dollface,” he murmured when you told him to lay the terms out upfront. “Isn’t it fun when you don’t know everything?”

“And I suppose it’s fun for you to keep me in the dark?” Control freak, you thought to yourself, but the bet was simple and there was no way you would lose. 

Sylus had shrugged, spreading his hands in a helpless pretense. 

It didn’t matter. You were confident. You were going to win.

==

“I gotta go with A,” Luke says slowly, smacking his lips as he speaks. “I like the spices. No clue what’s in it though—pepper, and er, I’m going to go with cinnamon? Or something similar?”

You could strangle him. Who the fuck puts cinnamon in tomato and eggs? You didn’t even see Sylus go near that section of the spice cabinet. 

“Do you even know what cinnamon tastes like?” You can’t help but ask. 

Luke licks his lips again. “Yeah, I ate a whole spoonful of cinnamon once because Kieran dared me to, and I was out of it for days. Boss got really mad, haha, remember that?”

Sylus sighs, reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nose. “He choked,” he says unhelpfully when you look to him for more information. 

“He exhaled cinnamon for what felt like hours after that,” Kieran notes from the side. “I wanted to get a scan of his lungs to see how tainted from cinnamon they were, but Boss grounded us.”

“Anyways, it may not be cinnamon, but it’s definitely a c-something,” Luke declares confidently. “I like it. A is the winner for me.”

“Cilantro,” Kieran tells him. You can’t read his expression through the fox mask, but you like to think he’s rolling his eyes. There’s exasperation in his voice that reeks of an older brother forced to reckon with the stupidity of a younger sibling, an unstoppable force crashing headfirst into an immovable object. 

Luke snaps his fingers, leaning forward to spoon another mouth of scrambled egg into his mouth. “It’s good. Who made this one?”

“I have to vote first,” Kieran reminds him. “But I’ll go with A too. It’s saltier. I prefer things with a stronger taste.”

“Hm.” Sylus turns to look at you, cocking his head. “It appears we have a unanimous decision. Our fear of needing a tie-breaker game didn’t even materialise.”

You stay silent. Your arms are folded across your chest, and you get the errant thought of whether you could stamp on his shoe hard enough to break his big toe. Probably not, but giving up without even trying is a defeatist attitude. 

“Woah,” Luke says, looking furiously between the both of you. “Boss made this?”

Kieran suddenly goes very silent. He brings a fist up to his mouth and starts coughing lightly, but he also resembles a cat attempting to cough up a hairball.

“I did,” Sylus replies, looking quite pleased. “Surprised?”

“Er,” Luke says simply. “Er, congrats. Kieran, do you know how to perform the Heimlich manoeuvre?”

Kieran coughs again. “I’ll do it on you if you do it on me first.”

“Deal.” Luke hurries to stand, his chair screeching against the floorboards from the strength of his push. “Can we excuse ourselves? Our role here is done, right?”

Sylus jerks his head at the exit, and the both of them scramble to the door. As they leave, you think you can hear Luke mutter something that sounds like “I didn’t know I would like soapy eggs, but there’s a first for everything, right?”

Kieran shoves him in the shoulder in response as they both leave. And Kieran goes to great pains to ensure the door is closed, firmly, behind him. 

“Let me try that,” you demand, reaching for Luke’s chopsticks left on the edge of the plate. 

A strand of twisting red energy wraps around your wrist, yanking it to a stop.

“There are clean chopsticks,” Sylus chides. From across the kitchen, a covered bowl and a pair of chopsticks are brought over by tendrils of red and black energy. 

He leans back, hips pressed against the counter as he collects the bowl and chopsticks. The lid lifts of its own accord and floats over to rest on the nearby countertop. 

Sylus picks up a piece of egg and holds it out to you.

“… You made a separate serving for me?” 

“I had my suspicions. If I won, you would have demanded a taste test to ensure I didn’t rig the competition.” Sylus tilts his head, as if daring you to disagree. “Was I right?”

Instead of answering, you lean forward to take the piece of egg into your mouth. Your lips close around the end of the chopsticks, and you stay like that for a moment, looking up at Sylus from under your eyelashes. 

Sylus’ gaze deepens. 

You pull off, leaving the chopsticks wet with your saliva as you chew on the food in your mouth. It’s good. Pretty good. Salty, but in a good way. It would go excellently with a fresh bowl of rice.

You’re actually kind of irritated. Why is Sylus good at making scrambled eggs and tomato? Did he pencil that into his busy schedule—illicit trading activities at 10 am, cooking lessons at 12 pm, a shoot out in a back alleyway at 3 pm, and prowling the streets of the N109 Zone from 11 pm to 4 am like some kind of avenger?

“It’s not bad,” you admit mulishly. “But it’s not better than my cooking. I’d say it’s at the same level.”

“Crowd opinion begs to differ. There’s no shame in losing to someone better, sweetie.”

Oh, you’ve just about had it with him. But a bet is a bet, and Sylus won without any obvious cheats. Luke enjoying the soapy taste of cilantro is something you could never have predicted; if Sylus used this fact to his advantage, you can’t even hold a grudge against him. You would have done the same.

“Give me that,” you say, holding a hand out for the bowl and chopsticks. “So, what’s the prize?”

Sylus doesn’t hand you the bowl immediately. He puts the chopsticks into his mouth, licking them clean before dipping them into the bowl again and picking out another piece of egg. He holds it out.

You lean forward, of course, lips parted as you expect him to feed it to you.

Instead, he turns the chopsticks around and places the egg into his mouth. He hums as he chews on it, nodding like he’s pleased at the taste. 

You snap your jaw shut. You give him a dirty look, pressing forward to brace your palms against the countertop, on either side of his hips. Like this, he’s trapped. 

Your chest is pressed up against him. Your hips align with his. You go on the balls of your feet, forcing him to lift the bowl and chopsticks higher so he doesn’t hit you in the face.

“You think you’re so funny,” you grumble, staring him down. “Bet, reward, now. Tell me what it is so I can be mentally prepared.”

Sylus doesn’t respond at first. He glances down at you, amusement written all over his face, and lets go of the bowl. Strands of energy catch it, bringing it to rest on the counter behind him. The chopsticks are brought along as well, leaving him empty handed.

“You’re standing in a dangerous position.” He puts the knuckle of his index finger under your chin to tilt your head up. “If you offer yourself up like this, I’ll take advantage.”

He tilts his hips forward, rolling intently against your abdomen. The prominent bulge presses into your lower stomach, right above where your womb is, and you flush scarlet.

You move to pull back, but Sylus moves one hand lightning fast, reaching behind to cup the curve of your ass and pressing you even tighter against the hard line of his arousal through his slacks.

He even squeezes, eyebrows rising in a challenging fashion as he waits to see how you’ll respond. 

You know he just wants to get a rise out of you. Unfortunately, it’s working. Your insides clench uncontrollably, wanting to cling tightly to something. 

Somehow, Sylus always succeeds at making you feel empty.

“As if you don’t take advantage on the daily.” You shift your stance until your thighs are spread around Sylus’s leg. He watches you adjust yourself, that mildly interested look affixed on his face as you straddle his thigh. 

Once you’re satisfied, you roll your hips forward, grinding down on the thick thigh to put pressure against your core. It’s a syrupy heat, starting from your tailbone and crawling up your spine. You press further into Sylus’s growing hardness, and he lets out a pleasant hum, tilting his head back to soak in the weight against his cock.

His fingers tighten against your ass. His grip is heavy, holding you tightly enough that you wonder if they’ll leave bruises against your skin. Five pretty bruises, black and blue on your ass. 

“Harder,” he coaxes hoarsely. “You can do better than that. What are they teaching Hunters these days?”

Your thighs squeeze threateningly around him. But that puts pressure on your clit, making pleasure surge deliciously inside you and you do it again—Sylus seems to catch on and he pulls you along the length of his thigh with the hand on your ass.

“Definitely not how to ride the unspoken ruler of the N109 Zone,” you shoot back breathlessly.

He lets out a startled laugh. “You flatter me, sweetie.”

“Stop evading the question,” you remind him, even as you steadily roll your hips against his thigh. Slow, regular grinds as you rub your cunt against his pants. You wonder if your pussy is wet enough to leak through your panties. You wonder if your panties are drenched, sticking to your thighs. You wonder if you’re making his pants damp, and whether he can feel it leaking through to his skin.

Judging from the way he suddenly grips your ass with more force at a particularly smooth slide, you think he might. 

“Remind me, what question were we speaking of?”

“Bet. Reward.” You slide one hand across his abdomen, stopping right over his belt buckle. The nail of your index finger catches against the metal—this isn’t the first time you’ve wished you had some kind of Evol that involved the manipulation of metal. “Want me to go on my knees?”

The pad of his thumb smooths over your lower lip. 

“Should I put this cute mouth to good use? I think I should,” Sylus murmurs, eyes half-lidded as he looks down at you. “But let’s talk about the bet first. The reward is simple.”

His other hand skates lightly along your outer thigh. Light as a feather, his fingers skimming along your skin so gently that it makes you itch. You almost want him to press hard, the same way he’s gripping your ass, instead of this light, itchy sensation spreading across your body. 

His fingers creep up, running under the hem of your dress. They trace the edge of your panties, nails scratching faintly against the cotton. 

“I get to do whatever I want with you for the next twenty-four hours,” he says, voice curling with satisfaction. His eyes are creased slightly, the smile sinking through his gaze. As if to drive his point home, he pointedly looks you up and down, dragging his gaze over every inch of your body. 

He’s lucky. If you were still clear-headed, you would have scoffed and told him to change the bet. Sylus might have convinced you after a while, but it would have taken time. At least half an hour of convincing, you reckon, with lips on your neck and fingers down your panties to get you worked up enough to say yes to a bet as insane as that.

Twenty-four hours? To do whatever he wants? 

Now, with your drenched pussy and your throbbing clit, both just begging for attention from him—this plan sounds pretty good. With the way his fingers playfully run across your panties, the tip of his thumb glancing off your swollen clit then darting away, as if it was an accident, as if he didn’t intend to do that, when you both know damn well he’s very acquainted with your clit—

“Go on,” you gasp, chasing after his sly fingers. Pressure, you need more pressure. If he squeezes your clit between his fingers, even through the wet cotton of your panties, it might be enough. “What do you want me to do?”

“Choices, choices. That mouth looks hungry for something, doesn’t it?” He presses his thumb into your clit harshly, making your body jerk at the sudden burst of electricity that surges through you. Sylus rubs it languidly, watching you shiver on his thigh, then he draws that hand away and brings it to his face. 

You watch, pupils dilated and mouth open as he lifts his thumb to his nose and inhales deeply. His eyes flutter shut, lips parting as he rubs the pad of his thumb on his tongue. Behind you, his other hand flexes, tightening his hold on your ass. 

“Mm,” he hums, slowly opening his eyes to look at you. “Delicious as always, sweetie. You’ve completely wet your panties.”

“Sylus,” you whine, pulling insistently at his belt. “Tell me what you want, or I’ll just do whatever I want to do.”

“How naughty. Thinking of breaking the rules of the bet this early?” His hand leaves your ass and you almost move to slide off, but there’s a sudden sharp sound and a stinging pain—your cheeks turn red at how that spank made your insides tighten up. “On your knees, dollface. Show me what that talented mouth of yours can do.” 

You go, the tips of your ears blushing when you see the blatant wet spot on his slacks your greedy pussy left on him.

==

Sylus uses your mouth like a fleshlight. All you have to do is sit there and look pretty, mouth open and wet, teeth hidden behind your lips as he holds your head in place and fucks into your mouth. Saliva pools in your mouth, your tongue numb from how loose you’re trying to keep your muscles. You just need to be there, fingers locked around Sylus’ ankles, knees spread on the ground and your arousal dripping on the floorboards—

“Good girl,” Sylus croons, head tilting back to expose the long line of his neck as his hips snap forward. “So fucking obedient for me, aren’t you? Tongue out, sweetie, let my cock slide right in—mmhmm, that’s right, you know what I like, don’t you?”

His fingers are tangled in your hair. There’s no gentleness in the way he holds you there—his grip on your hair is tight, your strands circling his fingers at least twice. He’d stroked your hair right at the beginning, when you were sliding to your knees and dragging the zipper of his pants down with your teeth. Then he’d wound your hair around four of his fingers once, twice, twisting his wrist, pulling sharply so you’d feel the strain at your scalp as you licked up the length of his cock. 

He’d told you to clean it up, so you did. You flattened your tongue along the thick line of his cock and you dragged it up, eyelashes fluttering as you traced the fat protruding vein under the head of his cock. You got his cock nice and slick, shiny from spit and precum. 

And now he’s fucking into your mouth, salty precum dripping down your throat as your cunt clenches around nothing. He grunts, a low punched-out sound that makes your clit throb. You’re the reason he looks so disheveled, sleeves rolled up messily to his elbows, slacks pulled open just enough for you to slip his cock out and suck on it—

The worst thing about Sylus, you think in a haze, the heavy weight of a fat cock in your mouth so all-encompassing that you don’t have many brain cells left for clear thought, is that he loves to talk. He can’t keep his fucking mouth shut, especially during sex. 

“Look at you,” he pants, voice gravelly from arousal. His thrusts are becoming more haphazard, losing the regularity from seconds ago. There’s a familiar stutter and his cock pulses on your tongue, the fat head going so far down your throat you almost seize up, but you hold it back. You can take it. You want to take it. “Do you want it in your throat or on your face?”

You make a noise, the sound muffled from Sylus’ cock. He laughs, a breathless sound, and the ache in your scalp intensifies. Oh, he’s close. 

“You’ll have to speak up, dollface.”

The whine that leaves your lips is louder this time, your fingers tightening around Sylus’ ankles. If your nails dig into the skin, leaving trails of scratch marks, all it does is make Sylus groan, hips jerking as he slams into your throat. 

“Hm, I can’t hear you,” he notes, eyes glinting as he looks down at you. “But it doesn’t matter, does it? You have to take whatever I give you, sweetie. Open that throat up for me, nice and pretty—ngh, fuck—”

You bare your teeth just enough to scrape the underside of Sylus’ cock. He’s not afraid to mix his pain with his pleasure, and the sting of teeth biting at his sensitive length while he fucks into your face is something he’s told you is addictive. You know he likes it. You know it makes him tremble, and you see it in his crimson eye when he hunches over, abdomen tightening as his cock twitches. 

“Close,” he growls through gritted teeth. “Suck on it, sweetie. You have to work for the reward you want. I don’t—haaah, fuck, I don’t give handouts.”

You obey, eyes closing instinctively as you suck on his cock. His cock is leaking badly, precum sliding down your throat. You swear you can feel the head of his cock all the way down, right to the base of your throat, right at your clavicle. It truly feels like he’s hitting it that deep, bruising the insides of your mouth and throat until you won’t be able to eat right or breathe right for days. 

You swallow desperately, throat working furiously around the head of his cock, that tight wet heat that drives him crazy, and he bites out a curse as his hips jerk forward, cock throbbing as come spills into your mouth. 

He doesn’t let up. He keeps fucking into your mouth, hips pumping as he slides his cock back and forth on your tongue. You suck at his cock, swallowing mouthful and mouthful of come down your throat. Your entire world narrows to a pinpoint, to the grounding weight of his pulsing cock on your tongue, the ache in your mouth, the sting of your scalp—there might be tears in your eyes, or sweat from overexertion, but your vision is blurry when you look up and watch Sylus watch you. 

Sylus watches you with hooded eyes, mouth open as he pants for air. His lips curve up when he sees you open your eyes, looking down at you with a pleased expression while he rides out the aftershocks in your wet mouth. 

“How obedient,” he says, breathing heavily as he lets one hand go and moves to stroke the side of your mouth with his thumb. He cups your jaw, wiping away a trail of spit from your lips, then reaches down to follow the outline of his cock in your throat. “Swallow.”

You swallow, and his eyes darken as your throat bobs around his cock. He must be able to feel it on both ends—his cock, trapped in that endless wet heat; his fingers, feeling the movement of your muscles under your skin, feeling his heartbeat in his cock through your throat. 

He continues fucking your mouth until the spurts of come finally taper off. Even then, he seems content to let his cock stay in your mouth, rubbing along the textured roof of your mouth and against the scrape of your teeth. 

Eventually, he pulls back. Sylus’ cock leaves your lips, inch by inch, until his back is against the counter again and only the tip of his cock is left in your mouth.

You can’t help it. Now that there’s more space, you move your tongue instinctively, curving it along the over-sensitive head of his cock and licking into the slit. 

Your eyes are trained carefully on Sylus’ face as you do this. He shudders, lips spreading in a smile even as his grip tightens in your hair. 

He gives you this look, half-lidded eyes and a lazy, satisfied smile as you mouth at his cock. 

“Good girl,” he says hoarsely, pulling your hair until your mouth slides off his cock. It bobs in front of you, still half-hard, and you risk your luck with lapping at the fat cockhead. 

Sylus stops you by yanking your head back even further. He pulls up, forcing you to your feet, then he unwinds his fingers and smooths your hair down. 

You pant lightly, trying to get your breathing under control. Your mouth feels like one big bruise, and you clear your throat before even attempting to speak. Your voice is going to sound completely fucked, you know, and some part of you revels in it. That you’ll walk around sounding like someone just brutalised your throat, because someone did. 

Sylus doesn’t do anything. He just stands there, the long line of his body stretching out before you as he drops one hand to cup your waist. You eye him, then eye the slowly growing stiffness of his cock—when you look back up, he has that familiar, smug challenging look on his face, like he wants to see what you’ll do next. 

Oh, you know what you want. You take his free hand and bring it under the rucked up hem of your dress. Your panties are sticky with arousal, and you’re certain you leaked enough fluid for his cock to slide in without any stretching, but you like fingers in your cunt. You like Sylus’ fingers in your cunt, specifically. 

Thick and callused fingers, broad enough that two of them feel like four of yours. You like the way they can hunt down that sensitive spot inside you with deadly precision, and you like the way he taps insistently at it like he’s pulling a trigger on a target. You like it when he crooks his fingers inside you and finger you stupid while his thumb flicks insistently at your clit. 

You even pull your drenched panties to the side so Sylus can slip his fingers in. You’re being so accommodating, so sweet and nice and obedient, all hopped up on endorphins from having a cock in your mouth and watching Sylus come—

He runs his index and middle finger through the seam of your pussy, gathering up your sticky wetness. He reaches up to pinch your clit, finding it with shocking accuracy even though his hand is hidden beneath your skirt, and you let out a surprised moan, your knees shaking from the pleasure that bursts inside you. You are going over the edge the moment he sinks those clever fingers inside you, you just know it.

But he draws his hand away. You’re so shocked that you let him do it, let him pull his hand away and bring it to his face again, almost an exact copy of what happened earlier. You watch, pussy clenching around nothing as he presses those two fingers together and pulls them apart, letting thin silvery strands of your arousal stretch in between the fingertips. 

Sylus rubs them together again, then puts those fingers in his mouth. He looks at you, holding your gaze as he sucks on them, throat visibly moving as he swallows. 

“Sweet,” he notes, nodding in approval. “A sample before the main course.”

You stare blankly at him. Your clit is throbbing, desperate for attention. “Sylus,” you demand, reaching for his hand again. “I want—”

“I know what you want.” His hand cups your exposed pussy. His palm is hot, heat radiating off his skin as he rubs slowly along your slick cunt. “But for the next twenty-four hours, you’re at my mercy.”

He slaps your pussy, so suddenly that it makes you yelp, both hands reaching out to grip his bicep in a bid to stabilise yourself. It stings, so pleasantly that it makes your clit tingle—you want more of it, more of everything and anything, as long as he makes you come. You’re so close it’s not even funny. One more slap could push you over the edge, as long as he does it hard enough and right across your twitching, swollen clit—

“Go take a shower,” Sylus suggests, eyes dark as he stares you down. “I’ll find you when I want to, dollface.”

“You—!” 

His smirk just makes the heat in your gut flare up. You want nothing more than to push him on his back and straddle that face, wipe that smile off with your cunt and force him to eat you out until you’re shaking from overstimulation and crying over his tongue. 

But a bet is a bet. And you respect the sanctity of a reward, even if it frustrates you to no end. 

“You are infuriating,” you hiss, and stalk off to find a change of clothes.

==

© rrrrinmaru 2024 | no unauthorised publication or reproduction allowed

[starry-crossing-zone]

Oh, Captain - Rex (TCW)

Summary: The 501st is getting a new Co-General and Rex wants to be prepared. His brothers, however, dare him to flirt with a woman at 79s the night before. Length: 1370 words Warnings: Unnamed Female Character (Can be Read as OC or Reader); Rex's Horrible Flirting Skills; Fives is a Menace

79s was packed full of clones as usual, though the color scheme of the night was predominantly blue and yellow for the 501st and 212th. They had just finished a battle together in the Mid Rim and returned to Coruscant to resupply before they shipped out again. And in the case of the 501st, they were on Coruscant to pick up their new Jedi general. 

It was the only reason why Rex went out that night in the first place. 

He had to make sure that all of his men were presentable for their meeting with the new assistant general, who had been assigned to the battalion so that General Skywalker could be called away more often. General Skywalker assured Rex that the new assistant general wouldn’t be that much of a stick in the mud, but Rex didn’t want to take a risk. 

“Oh, come on, Rex, you heard the General. The new general’s fun. Have a drink for kriff’s sake,” Fives urged, placing a drink in front of Rex. 

“I’m all set, Fives,” Rex replied, pushing the drink away from him. 

“Who is the new assistant general, anyways?” Echo asked curiously, leaning over. “The Commander didn’t have a name.”

“I bet they’re a brand new Jedi. Young like General Skywalker,” Jesse stated, earning some nods. “He mentioned that they trained together.”

“It’s not for us to speculate,” Rex replied, earning a sigh from some of his brothers. “We need to be prepared. I don’t want the new general’s first impression of us to be that we look sloppy.”

“Oh, relax, Rex,” Cody spoke up, causing the rest of the 501st to perk up. If anyone could talk some sense into Rex, it would be Cody. “You’re going to be fine. Have a drink. We were just in trenches on a dustball for fifteen rotations. Or maybe make a new friend.”

“Like her,” Fives interjected, smacking Rex on the shoulder. 

The entire table turned to watch a humanoid woman take a seat at the bar. A woman alone in a clone bar? It would be about five seconds before she was swarmed. But there was something about her that intrigued Rex. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but there was just something about her that drew all of his attention without any work at all. 

“I’ve never seen her here before,” Echo stated as the woman ordered a drink. 

“I wouldn’t mind seeing her around,” Fives spoke up before glancing at Rex. “And looks like you wouldn’t either, Captain.”

“Not all of us think with what’s under our codpieces, Fives,” Rex grunted in return. 

“I’m thinking that they are, though,” Jesse pointed out, gesturing to two clones who made their way over to the mysterious woman. “Hopefully her first experience with a clone isn’t one of Fox’s shinies. She’ll never come to a clone bar again.”

Rex glanced over at the woman again before getting up from his seat. Fives looked over at Echo with a shit-eating grin, to which Echo simply rolled his eyes. Rex walked around the bar, nodding to his brothers that he passed, but keeping his gaze on the mystery woman and the two clones that sat down next to her. 

But before they got too far into a conversation, she seemed to say something with a seductive smile and his brothers got up and left her alone without a word of protest. Now, downright curious, Rex found his legs carrying him over to the woman. She turned her head and their eyes met for the first time. His heart seemed to stutter as he took the last few steps toward her. 

“They weren’t bothering you, were they?” Rex asked, causing the woman to smile. 

“No, not at all. I told them that I was just looking for a drink and nothing more. They seemed to do the rest of the math.” She took a sip of her drink, peering over the rim of her glass and practically into Rex’s soul. “Sorry if you were planning on playing hero, Commander.”

“It’s Captain, actually. Captain Rex,” Rex introduced himself, causing the woman’s eyes to widen a small fraction. 

“My apologies, Captain Rex.”

And there was that arrhythmia again. Was this woman part-siren or something?

“You can just call me Rex,” he assured her, causing the woman to smile softly. “And what exactly should I call you, ma’am?”

“Anything but ‘ma’am’,” she quipped, taking another sip of her drink. “You’re making me feel a little too old, Captain.” 

Kriff, he could get used to her calling him that. 

They got to talking. Not so much specifics about themselves, but rather life around them. The GAR, galactic politics, the drink menu. Rex didn’t even realize that he literally didn’t know any basic facts about the woman until she got up to leave for the night. 

“Do you come to this part of town often?” Rex asked, causing the woman to chuckle. 

“Not usually, but I suppose I could make an exception . . . Captain.”

Rex watched her walk out the door before he was suddenly swarmed by brothers, rattling off question after question. Up until Cody, as the highest ranking officer of the bunch, took control of the situation and asked one simple question. 

“What’s her name?”

Rex opened his mouth to reply, but instead winced, causing his brothers around him to groan. 

“He’s hopeless,” Fives sighed, shaking his head. 

“He was hopeless the second that he decided to follow your advice,” Echo pointed out. 

*~*~*~*

Rex walked through the rows of his men, inspecting them one last time while the General and Commander brought aboard their new General. Co-General. Whatever. Either way, Rex wanted to impress them. And that meant that his men had to be in tip top shape. But when he heard the doors to the hangar open, Rex quickly took his place at the front. 

Only to nearly drop his helmet when he recognized the woman walking with Anakin and Ahsoka. And when he heard Fives’s giggle, he could only swallow down a choice set of words.

“And here’s our captain, Rex,” Anakin introduced, causing their eyes to lock for the first time since the bar. “The best of the best.”

“I would expect no less,” she replied with an easygoing and mischievous smile. “It’s nice to meet you, Captain Rex.”

“You as well, General,” Rex practically choked out, trying to not sweat through his blacks. 

“Rex, this the new co-general,” Ahsoka introduced, adding the general’s name. “She was Master Plo Koon’s padawan and served with the Wolffe Pack.”

“Why’d you leave it, General?” Rex directed towards the new general, who smiled at him. 

“The Jedi Council needed someone to babysit General Skywalker and because I value public service above my own sanity—”

“—This whole spiel again?” Anakin complained, causing her to turn to him. 

“You're just upset because Admiral Yularen laughed in your face when I told him what happened back on Corellia when you—”

“—Perhaps we should move on to the rest of the tour,” Anakin stressed, causing her to smirk. 

“Of course.”

Anakin and Ahsoka led the way through the rows of troopers, though she lingered behind them. Looking over her shoulder, she offered Rex a smile that made his heart stop for a moment all over again. 

“I’ll be back to meet the full battalion formally once the rest of my briefings are concluded. If that fits with your timeline, Captain?”

“Yes, of course, General.”

“Great.” She offered him a curt nod before that smirk returned. “And next time we’re at 79s, drinks are on me, Captain.”

The galaxy was testing him today, that was for sure. Rex watched her walk off with Anakin and Ahsoka before slowly putting his bucket back on his head. 

“Fives,” he growled out. “You have exactly five seconds before—”

Fives took off in a sprint across the hangar and Rex took off after him. Echo sighed and shook his head before turning to his comms. Sending Commander Cody a message that Rex did learn that the woman that he was flirting with last night was the new general, Echo couldn’t help but laugh as he watched Fives evade Rex. 

“Well, this is going to be interesting.”

[joanofexys]

I think Neil subconsciously switches accents. Like, he’ll be in the Deep South for a tournament or something and subtly take on a southern lilt, and the foxes’ll be like: “Neil wtf why are you talking like you eat homophobic fried chicken” and Neil would genuinely just say: “I have no idea what you’re talking about” because it’s so not on purpose for him.

okay YES

and I might be biased cause the audhd accent mimicry is real and I do this so much but I’m still accepting it as fact

In addition: he mimics the accents of specific people he’s talking to sometimes and people assume that he’s making fun of them but he doesn’t even realize it’s happening

I imagine he also snatches peoples ways of speaking and text styles super easily too. Inflection, common phrases and slang they use, and how grammar is used in texting. That sort of stuff

When he gets really passionate about something and his voice raises suddenly a lot of his cadence matches Kevin and the way he sounds when he’s yelling at them about Exy. He’s tired, he’s stopped giving a shit, and bam there’s Andrew. Worst part is when someone points out that he and Aaron speak similarly about academics (Neil abt math and Aaron abt medicine) and they both HATE it. I also imagine he gets a lot of sayings from Nicky and Matt. He’s got Dan’s cadence and tone down and it comes in handy when he becomes captain and can easily lean into the way he remembers her talking

It’s part of being on the run for some long and having to learn these things about other people to fit in and not get caught. But the fact that it sticks and it’s the foxes specifically also shows that he’s found a home with them

[themiddleofmichigan]

As a math major, I am simply enchanted by the idea of Neil Josten, Math Major. Please enjoy this collection of headcanons I came up with to cope with studying mathematics.

Neil is a pure math guy. There are two big camps of mathematics: pure and applied. Applied math is about applying math to other fields (physics, engineering, finance, etc.), while pure math is like math for the sake of doing math (read: a lot less employable). Neil picking the math major because he's good at math and kind of likes it is a very Pure Math thing to do.

Neil has a whiteboard, possibly multiple whiteboards. Whiteboards are the ultimate tool of mathematics. Sometimes Neil gets stuck on a problem for hours; hunched over his mini whiteboard, working through it over and over again. His fingers get covered in the expo marker residue and it leaves a black mark when he scratches his nose. Andrew huffs that he looks like a chimney sweep and rubs it off with his sleeve (he absolutely does NOT find it adorable, shut up, Nicky). Also, around exams Neil will drag Andrew to the library so he can do his practice problems on the Big Whiteboards. The other people in the library stare at them because this little ginger is filling multiple whiteboards with weird symbols and greek letters; Neil doesn't notice because he's oblivious, Andrew notices and it makes him a smug bf.

One time one of the Foxes asks him for help with their statistics homework and he gives it a shot, because how different could it be? They both quickly find out that he knows absolutely nothing about statistics. "What IS that?" "That's a matrix, it has the variances in it." "Well then why does it have an apostrophe by it?" "That means you flip it around." "That's TRANSPOSING and you notate it with a T" "Aren't you supposed to be some kind of math genius? Shouldn't you know how to do this?" "This isn't math, this is blasphemy."

Aaron has to take calculus for the MCAT and puts it off for as long as possible because he hates math. His TA for the course sucks and he struggles through it for weeks before Katelyn manages to convince him to ask Neil for help. Neil pretends to be annoyed, but he's secretly kind of looking forward to it because calculus is fun and it's nice to do math you already know for a change. When you're an upperclassman in a math degree, though, your brain gets warped by all the theoretical math, and it's hard to get into the mindset to teach something like Calc I. This leads to semiregular hostile tutoring sessions in the dorm, we're talking real Dad Trying to Help You With Your Math Homework at the Kitchen Table type energy. "BUT HOW DID YOU KNOW TO DO THAT?!" "It's a vector space, Aaron, I don't see what you're not understanding here." "A vector WHAT" Andrew chain smokes through these. He has to start leaving the dorm because he's pretty sure the calculus is going to drive him to lung cancer.

The statistics incident gives Neil a totally reasonable grudge against statistics. He eventually gives it up, but only so he can take an elective about sports statistics, because he has exy brain worms.

[studaxy]

Day 3 [10th Feb, Monday]

Collab Challenge with @a-fox-studies 30 Days of Productivity! 💙 iris's study time: 0 hours 💛axy's study time: 5 hours 2 minutes

did five hours of math before my brain died lol. I was supposed to do physics but physics is like that one subject I ADORE with every fibre of my being but I absolutely CAN'T study for it its horrible

saw my abandoned physical journal yesterday and thought woah its pretty and fun. I stopped for reasons, but now that im a better place, I restarted :D

🎶 music: 🎶

Drama [aespa]

👟 step count: 👟

7166 steps!! goal has been reached o7

[doffyslittledove]

Get to know mutuals 💞

tagged by @bankaizen ily so much ex-hubby

What’s the origin of your username? it started in the server where i believed 'little dove' would be one of doffy's go to pet names for his darling, then it morph into an oc for him named dove. basically i've made loving donquixote doflamingo my whole personality

OTP(s) + shipname: i'm more of an oc/canon shipper nowadays BUT bege/chiffon, frobin, zorobin, zolu, zolaw, are all GREAT ships

Favourite colour: PURPLE!!! and black of course

Song stuck in my head: How Bad Do U Want Me by Lady Gaga. i've been obsessed with it tbh

Weirdest habit/trait: i literally never stop picking my fingers. it's more than a nervous habit bc i do it even when i'm not nervous. it's why i use fake press on nails religiously bc it is the only thing that actually deters me from completely picking my nails to the point i draw blood

Hobbies: singing, gaming, reading, want to pick playing guitar back up too bc i haven't in a long time

If you could have any job you wish what would you have? i really don't YEARN any particular career any longer bc i'd rather just... not BUT i have always wanted to work in a museum or just anything having to do with fossils. as a kid, i always wanted to be a paleontologist

Something you’re good at: my job 💞 even when i feel like i'm not doing a good job i always get a pat on the back for a job well done

Something you hate: peanut butter, shit is fucking DEESGUSTIN

Something you forget: i forget to call my parents sometimes and i always feel so bad bc i don't get to see them that often anymore

Your love language: words of affirmation to the EXTREME. pls tell me you love me and that i'm pretty and that you need me and that you love me and that i'm pretty and-

Favourite movies/shows: ONE PIECE!!!! best thing i've ever decided to watch. my fave movies of all time are jurassic park, pacific rim, and aliens. basically big monster movies my beloved.

Favourite food: PASTA. and also burgers.

Favourite animal: PENGUINS!!!!!! and also hippos, horses, and foxes

What were you like as a child? attached to my mom at the hip. i did not want to be around anyone else tbh.

Favourite subject in school: english and probably science

Least favourite subject: math and pe literally wanted to die bc i was a fat kid and couldn't keep up so i got made fun of a ton for it

What’s your best character trait: i'm a fierce friend, i don't do a lot of defending for myself, i usually just brush things off, but if my friends are upset i will LEAP and defend them and FIGHT for them if i need to

What’s your worst character trait? i constantly feel like everyone hates me far too often, and i can't stand the feeling of being left out. it consumes me that everyone is just doing better and happier without me, and i let those thoughts become my reality and i operate as if everyone truly believes the things my brain came up with

If you could change any detail of your life right now, what would it be? i might take college a little more seriously and actually gone for something that could have made me more money but.... then i never would have met my soulmate that i've spent a decade with so... i truly believe everything happens for a reason

If you could travel in time, who would you like to meet? i honestly don't have a great answer lol

tagging: @shinjihirakos @mandiemegatron @nina-ya @shanalikeanna @physics-of-one-piece @eussstasss

[varpusvaras]

If Fox could go back ten years in time and look at the barely twenty-year-old himself in the eyes and tell him that hey, you have a home office, his younger self would look back at him and tell him that he has lost his mind.

It's such a small thing to call someone crazy over, but for the Fox back then, even having an apartment he could be secure about was a big deal. Having an apartment big enough to have a home office? Having a job secure and safe enough that he could work from home? Absolute lunacy.

There Fox still is, now, sitting behind his desk in his home office and looking out of the window towards the trees blooming in the back garden.

That barely twenty-year-old Fox would've lost his mind if he'd see the place where he lives now. Hell, any version of Fox before the age of twenty-five would lose their minds. Even now, Fox remembers the cramped rooms with at least five other kids, sometimes his brothers, sometimes not. He remembers how all of this stuff could with inside one drawer and one box, because that had been the amount of stuff he had been allowed to have. Living in a place where he could have his own bedroom, a home office, and multiple other rooms to spare still?

All of that had been a simple, too good to ever be true-dream.

One that he is living now.

Who is he lying to? Fox at twenty-six had lost his mind after seeing the place for the first time. At that point he had been living on his own for a while, and not in a bad place either, but still. It had been...almost too much.

The way Bail and Breha had looked at him with soft eyes after Fox had asked if it would really be alright for him to have a home office had almost been too much.

They would've given him at least ten home offices if Fox would've just asked. Fox knows that.

Sometimes, Fox thinks that he is getting more than he deserves.

Not that he isn't working hard, or hadn't been working hard for his own success. He had, with too much cheap coffee and by scouring the grocery stores for expiring products and by studying through every waking hour and working through half of the hours he should've been sleeping. He had done it all, and it had gotten him here, in it's own way.

Now he can have the good coffee and sip it patiently, while he stops looking out of the window for a moment and attaches the floor plans and the concept pictures to the email and sends them away. He hopes that the customer is happy, now. The job had been interesting and quite fun with all the challenges, but he had other jobs too that he needed to work on, so he simply couldn't spend more hours on drawing entirely new pictures and doing all the math again because the customer had suddenly decided that they liked radius windows better to the picture windows instead-

Right on cue, his phone starts to ring.

Fox groans.

"Seriously?" He mutters, picking the phones up. "That was fast."

The record for the fastest call back he had received before this had been what, five minutes? It had barely been two minutes now, so there must be something egregious that he had managed to completely overlook, somehow.

He takes one last sip of his coffee, before he answers.

"Coruscant designs, Fox Organa speaking", he says.

"Hello, Mr. Organa." The voice that comes from the speaker is not the voice of his customer, and Fox blinks in surprise. Had he actually forgotten to see who had been calling? There's only a number on the screen when he quickly glances at it. "Is now a good moment to talk? I'm afraid that his would be rather time consuming."

"Depends on what this is regarding", Fox says. "I'm sorry, can I ask who this is?"

"Oh, right, my apologies", the voice says hurriedly. "This is agent Strass, I'm calling on behalf of Child Protective Services. Could I ask you if it is correct that your biological father was someone called Jango Fett?"

Oh, this is already not going how Fox would like any phone call to go. No matter how many years it has been by now, just hearing the words Child Protective Services makes his skin crawl, and the name Jango Fett makes his head hurt.

Those two combined have never promised anything good.

"I do want to make a correction, agent Strass, before we get any futher", he says, trying his best not to grit his teeth. "Jango Fett was my donor. I have never met him in person, nor has he ever had custody of me at any point during my life, nor does he even know that I exist."

"Oh", agent Strass says. They sound rather young, and Fox wonders if this is one of the first times they're making this type of call. "You're still listed as a genetic match to him through a DNA-test."

"I am, but I did not make that test to be in contact with him", Fox says. "I made it so I could be sure that my siblings were biologically related to me."

"Of course, of course", agent Strass says, and Fox can hear them turning some papers over on the other end of the call. "Now, I understand that this is a bit of an unique situation, since you do not have a prior relationship with your biological father, but we have received custody of a child that is, according to a DNA-test, also the child of Jango Fett."

Even though Fox already knows that it is the Child Protective Services calling, he is still surprised by the words.

"Have they been removed from the custody of Fett?" He asks.

"According to our records, no, a third party had a custody of him", agent Strass says. "They had done a DNA-test for the child themselves, and shared the results with us."

Fox can't believe this.

Someone is still using Fett as a donor? Or Fett is has suddenly decided to return from the dead and make more kids, but Fox doesn't think that is plausible. Fox is nearing thirty, and so are most of his siblings that he knows of, and the youngest he knows are still way past twenty. He really, really hopes that the child in question is in their late teens at the very least-

"How old is the child?" He asks.

"According to our information, three months", agent Strass says.

-and Fox hopes for the world to be healing are instantly burned down.

"Like I said, I understand that his is an unique situation", agent Strass continues talking, "but since we have the information on the child's biological family, it was decided that we would first reach out to you, to see if there would be anyone willing to foster the child, before we would turn to seek out long-term fostering options from unrelated people-"

Agent Strass's voice fades somewhere into the background, as Fox thinks. He thinks of the cramped rooms, he thinks of his drawer and box and the small amount of things he had in them, he thinks about his brothers, coming and going, being replaced with kids that were strangers, that would also leave if Fox ever managed to become friends with them. He thinks about the times it would be him leaving, thinks about how sometimes he had not even had a suitcase or a backbag, and had instead packed everything into plastic bags and dragged them around, he thinks of the drawer and the box and-

Fox looks out of the window, to the back garden with blooming trees, that he can see from his home office. His office, that he could have multiple of, and how they still wouldn't be out of space, and-

"Yes", Fox says.

"-in case that- excuse me?" Agent Strass stumbles a bit with their words.

"Yes, we will take them. Him. The child", Fox tries not to stumble over his own words as he hurries to speak. "We will take him. What do we need to do?"

Bail and Breha had been through adoption agencies already. They have been cleared to be fit to adopt and foster. Fox has not, but maybe he could ge through one if he applies right now, maybe two adults with qualifications would be enough in the meantime-

Agent Strass talks for a long, long time, and Fox now hangs onto every word with all the attention he has.

Agent Strass tells him to come to the office on Thursday. Fox cleares his whole day immediately.

The call ends almost an hour later, and by that time, his customer has tried to call him six times, and has left three emails. Fox sends them a message of three lines about emergency and sends it without checking if he even typed any of the words correct.

Then he sits down and he breathes.

He just sits there and breathes for a very long time.

"Alright", he murmurs to himself, finally. He needs to go ask Breha if she is free on Thursday, Bail at least only has work then until noon-

Oh. Right.

Fox stands up, and he walks to the other end of the floor, and knocks on the door of Breha's office.

"Come in, love." At any other time Fox would've been really endeared over the fact that Breha could recognise him from the way Fox knocks, but now he has too many other things in his mind.

Breha turns around on her chair as Fox slips in.

"Hello", she says and smiles, but her smile drops a bit when she sees whatever expression it is that Fox has on his face. "Is something wrong? Fox?"

Fox takes a deep breath.

"I've done something", he says. "Without asking you and Bail first."

Breha tilts her head.

"Have you sold the house and decided to move to Antarctica?" She asks. Fox shakes his head. "Then why do you look like you're about to uproot us all?"

"I agreed to have a baby", Fox says.

Breha blinks.

"What?" She asks.

"Not with anyone else", Fox rambles. "With you, I mean, to get a baby with you, I said that we could get a baby but I didn't ask-"

"Fox." Breha stands up, and Fox snaps his mouth shut. "Calm down, alright? Breathe in, and sit down. I feel like this is not a conversation to be had while standing up."

She takes his hands, and walks him over to the other chair next to hers that she keeps for visitors, and she lets Fox slump down on it for a good while before she gives him an expectant look.

Fox breathes in, breathes out, and starts explaining.

--- ---

They go to the office on Thursday.

Even arrives on Saturday.

His things are packed neatly into a little blue suitcase with cartoon ducks on it, and he is dressed nicely into clean overalls and a light coat, and has new, tiny shoes on his little feet.

Fox has only one, slightly tattered picture of himself as a baby, and he feels like he is staring at a live version of that picture when Even is taken out of the car and given to him.

Bail leans over, and he smiles at Even, who does a little smile back.

"He has the same forehead curl as you do", he comments, and brushes Fox's hair gently out of the way.

Fox can only answer with a nod.

He looks at the suitcase, and he thinks of the plastic bags and the drawer and the box.

Breha puts her arm on his back. Fox thinks about the cramped rooms and the drawer and the box as they walk upstairs and go to the room right next to their bedroom, with light green walls and vines growing on the wall outside the window, with a little cot and shelves and multiple drawers for only one kid.

Even's eyes dart around the room for a bit, before he looks back up at Fox. His tiny fingers grab at the front of Fox's shirt, and he smiles at Fox with a gummy smile.

Fox hoists him higher, presses his face against the little dark curls on Even's head, and he pushes the drawer and the box away.

(He only remembers that he had already agreed on things to do on Saturday, when Thorn calls him three hours later.

"Where are you?" He asks. Fox brings the phone further away, and takes a picture, which he sends to Thorn.

"Home", he answers.

"What are y- what the fuck is that?"

"It's a baby", Fox answers.

"I know it is a baby! Why do you have a baby?"

"Because I do now."

"That doesn't explain anything, where did you get it? You weren't pregnant!"

"How do you know I wasn't?" Fox asks.

Even is sleeping on him, and he makes a little snort and curls just a little closer to Fox. Fox smiles, and does not listen to anything Thorn is saying anymore.)

(Modern AU co-parented with @t3mpest98!)

[the-scarecrow-of-aus]

Soooo...

Um, for mermay...

I was thinking of what might be fun to write for dcxdp, I thought I might be able to hash something out as I drove home from work earlier...

Listening to a random Spotify playlist that contained 'two' songs right after each other.. (this will come up later)

People know about pirate!batman right?

'Leatherwing'

My mind went about updating leatherwing to include all the bats and birds. Then it went to how I'd introduce danny.

-

Danny, who learnt he was a mermaid when he was 14, after being knocked overboard unconcious, into the port he fell, getting brained by a stray lumber spar, caught in fouled rigging and then dragged over the side by dead weight all on accident by his port-friend sam.

He didn't drown, but it took a while to wake up then realising you were staring at the underside of the ships keel.

-

not a good thing to discover when your parents hunt mermaids and other mythical creatures. "Dangerous creatures danno my boy, once you anger a mermaid best ready yourself because they don't forgive easily!"

Even worse when they're constantly travelling by ship with their benefactors: the GIW (the gentlemen in white).

A privately sponsored armada of hunters: whether their prey is pirates, mermaids or any creature they consider a threat, you don't want to be hunted by them!

So danny, doing his best to not be caught but still learn what he's capable of, learning how to use his voice to stun and enchant... finally he gets discovered freeing their captives.

He has to flee and flee he does, escaping them and striking out on his own.

(I assume jazz stays in Port and isn't aware of what's currently happened-away at 'college')

-

Sometime in the future though, constantly dodging his parents attempts to track him whenever he comes to a port, Danny happened upon captain leatherwings pirateship.

He follows them as a mermaid, watching them work. Sometimes they attacked a ship and other times they fled, being chased by pirate hunters but never caught! It was fascinating to watch despite the danger of being seen (he's seen).

At night he'd wrap himself around the rudder and hum or quietly sing listening to the ocean, hoping another mermaid would answer his call (he's never met another)

One day as leatherwing's ship, the flying fox. Starts to sail into port, danny hears them say they will put up a request for new crew (some leaving, some died).

Danny slips away ahead of them to shore, stealing some dry clothes (without holes to look presentable) and camps out at the inn by the docks looking for hire.

-

It takes some work but Danny gets hired on, excited to be among people again. He's introduced to the crew and does his best to fit in, it becomes apparent some of the long term crew are more then just crew, they act just like family...

Danny gets close to them, curious about their relationships with each other. One night (I'm picking cass for this but it could be anyone) he finds 'orphan-blackblade' sitting on the stern of the ship.

her feet through the railing on the back trying to hum a strange tune that sounds familiar, another of the crew sees Danny watching and laughs, 'orphan doesn't talk, but she sits on the back of the boat every night listening to the 'music of the sea' (you do the math)

-

-

That would continue building a relationship at a pace but now, we come to the part where danny is revealed.

leatherwing and the flying fox is attacked by the GIW who stumbled on them looking for danny with whatever dark magic's they use to track him. This coincides with a storm approaching and as the battle rages Danny gets pinned under water by debris and is forced to start transforming.

He breaks free and seeing the fight going poorly tries to help using his cry to shock the GIW, it works. This is where things get a little angst as the flying fox crew don't recognise danny as a mermaid...

Danny seeing the mainmast of the GIW ship coming down tackles orphan out of the way but in saving her gets attacked by her and everyone else forcing him to take her hostage to save himself and flee, whisking her away into the dark of the stormy sea.

-

This is where the songs literally came in:

Fish in a birdcage: 'rule #34'

(Awkward timing, forcing me to decide which was the priority: getting my ace asses mind out of the gutter or keeping my car wheels out of the gutter as I did some specific driving on the freeway to avoid some surprise gridlock traffic ahead!)

So play that song and imagine pirate!cass waking up in a cave of an unknown island being stared down at by an angry, shirtless, very familiar looking mermaid who you'd just stabbed...

My brain while trying to drive:

The second song was: fin- ship in a bottle

What comes to mind (as I was now stuck in gridlock) is an angry danny fighting back as leatherwing tries to find his daughter orphan after she was taken by a mermaid that suddenly attacked them during the fight.

He'd interrogated the GIW who invaded his ship, those who hadn't been able to flee in time as he chased after his daughter, they were hunting the mermaid and assumed he was on-board (a thought backed up by nobody knowing where danny had gone-they found his torn off shirt though...).

He tore the knowledge from them on how they tracked the mermaid, learnt the consequences of using the magic, forced them off the ship because they were now 'deadweight', cast the magic and set sail.

And now that he'd found him he was going to get his daughter back... But as said before, dannys angry and they fight...

- that's all I got at the moment.

-

The only other things I have is cass going non verbal in the cave and humming her song which could calm danny down as he recognises it as the song he sung when wrapped around the rudder at nights.

Cass stopping the fight between Danny and Bruce (and her siblings) threatening to beat both their asses

Ellie showing up as a mermaid, trying to find danny, she bumped into jazz and they've been trying to find danny for a while (Danny forgets to check in every now and then)

[itsalwayssillygooseoclock]

@lorata un-anon here to deliver a few musings on my 12yo 75QQ AU in thanks for your very helpful advice! Exams are coming up and I haven’t much time to write, but hopefully I will soon.

Here is some backstory:

* Her name is Alaina. It means ‘little rock’, ‘child’, and ‘shining torch’. She’s from the quarries, but her father is the manager and he wanted to name her something a little more … upmarket.

* Her childhood is difficult. She has an older sister who is what we would call schizophrenic, although I doubt that anyone in District Two would know what that is. From an early age, Alaina has to help her, has to learn both to calm her down and to fight her down. Her parents are so preoccupied with what Yasmin needs that Alaina has always come second, all her life.

* Alaina isn’t sure how she feels about school. She doesn’t like being away from her sister, but… at school, thinks a part of her that she likes to keep buried down deep, thinks the nasty part, it isn’t really her problem. Alaina is clever, and it’s easy to lose herself in the maths and the geology and the reading and writing and stop worrying about her sister for a little bit, even if she feels guilty at the end of the day when she starts to head home and isn’t sure what state the house will be in.

* Eventually, people at school find out about Yasmin. And, in the way that kids do, they make fun. Alaina tries to ignore it, but the other side of her whispers in her ear - they don’t get to make fun, no no no, they have no idea what it’s like, they have no right to make fun of Yasmin when they’ve never had to sit and listen to her animatedly relating the conversations that she’s had with the foxes outside of her window, when they’ve never had to pin her down to her bed to stop her from throwing her lamp through the window to chase away the blood clouds.

* When Alaina comes to again, they are pulling her away from her classmate, whose face is a mess of red blood and snot. It coats her hands, and she turns them over, staring.

* They call her dad. He is furious. One of his little girls fighting at school? It’s bad enough he has Yasmin to worry about, he tells her. Now she’s being selfish, and going right ahead to make herself a problem as well.

* It keeps happening. They send her to the Centre. And that, Alaina loves. Dad is happy because at least she is contributing, whatever that means. And Alaina is happy because the ugly side of her can come out, and the other kids and the trainers don’t flinch away. If the other kids make fun of Yasmin, she’s allowed to smash their faces in, and they won’t even phone home to her dad. If she does it properly and stops when she’s told, they’ll even give her a few orange slices. The trainers look her in the eyes when they speak to her, and for the first time in her life, she feels like her own person. She feels important.

* A bigger boy with two black strands around his wrist corners her once. He snarls in her face - her dad had fired his earlier in the week, apparently. And, the boy adds, flipping a knife out of his sleeve, he’s going to get even. Alaina hisses. He charges at her, but Alaina’s faster. She dodges and slams the knife out of his hand, grabbing hold of his wrist. She pushes, hard, and a deep satisfaction, ugly and primal, twists in her gut as she feels his bones give beneath her grip. The trainers give her a whole orange this time, and she licks the juice from her fingers.

* That summer, she gets a black strand. That means she’s one of the best. Alaina thinks of herself getting Volunteer. Thinks of herself coming first, out of her entire cohort. She smiles.

* Alaina has four black strands around her wrist when the card for the 3rd Quarter Quell is announced. They watch the card reading in the Centre, and Alaina and the rest of her cohort learn that it will be one of them going into the arena that year. The other kids exchange whispers and glances, but Alain keeps still and silent.She looks down at her wrist, and imagines a golden bead. She could come first. She could be important, and everyone would have to pay attention to her all the time. Alaina sees out.

* She has to fight for it, and she does. Alaina fights for two weeks, constantly running suicides for excessive force and pulling hidden knives out of her sleeves in the middle of sparring matches, until one day the head trainer calls her into his office. It will be her, he tells her. And she is moving into Residential next week.

* Her dad is angry. He shouts. Yasmin cries. But Alaina doesn’t care - at least, not the nasty side of her. And this nasty side is what will get her into the Games. So what does it matter?

* Oh, it matters, she soon learns. The first few days in Residential are alright - the eighteens have all been sent to detox already, and the other kids won’t be seen dead picking on the babies. But then, it turns out that the nasty side of Alaina, which has never had to be in play for more than a few hours each day, can’t last. And the good side, the honourable side, can’t do it. Yasmin needs her. Her family needs her. Besides, she isn’t ready, and she’s clever enough to know that she won’t be anywhere near ready in time. She’s as good as dead. And dead isn’t first. Dead is forgotten.

* They notice how she’s thinking. It’s obvious. It’s just so easy to let herself slip a little bit, to not give that final push on the obstacle course, to not run just that bit faster to reach the mock Cornucopia first, to not fight quite as hard as everyone else. They try to convince her - they let her overhear brief snippets of conversation about how it’s such a shame, such a waste, and part of Alaina bristles and that powers her through the next exercise, but, like always, she can’t keep it up.

* One day the head trainer calls her to his office again, where his door has been left conveniently ajar, just enough for her to overhear a conversation about what the board plans to do with the girl. It’s too late to switch her out for someone else with the Reaping two weeks away, as it turns out. She stands in the hallway and listens, and watches as the senior trainers leave with someone that she recognises in tow - Devon. He must be her mentor, she realises. He stops and levels her with a searching look. Alaina can’t meet his eyes, not when she knows she isn’t really planning to make it out like he did. After a moment, he clicks his tongue against his teeth and turns to leave without saying a word.

* They still haven’t given her the gold bead.

* A week before the Reaping, they call her into one of the smaller sparring gyms. She walks in and is met with the head trainer, two of her sparring trainers, and, most surprisingly, Enobaria.

* Alaina has always admired Enobaria - she embraces her nasty side in a way that Alaina can’t quite, she makes blood and flesh and gore her whole personality and forces everyone to love her for it with an unapologetic grin and flash of her golden fangs. If only Alaina could find out the secret to that, then there wouldn’t be a problem, would there.

* They stand there in the gym, silent, for a few minutes. Eventually, someone speaks. Everyone knows she isn’t trying, says the head trainer, and is she going to tell them why that is? Alaina can’t move, can’t say anything at all. She barely has time to throw herself out of the way as Enobaria lunges at her.

* They fight - it doesn’t take Enobaria long to get Alaina pinned under her on the ground, and she snarls into her face. You gonna fight me properly, she asks. Alaina says nothing in return. Fine, Enobaria hisses, then wraps her hands around Alaina’s neck and pushes down.

* That gets her fighting. She kicks and hits and claws and scratches, desperate to get Enobaria’s hands away from her neck. Nothing even begins to make any difference. You want it, you have to fight a thousand times harder, Enobaria hisses, bearing down. Something primal stirs inside of Alaina as her vision begins to blur. She strikes out, hard, aiming for Enobaria’s face. She doesn’t quite get her, of course she doesn’t, but Enobaria very deliberately lets her break free of her grip, and the rush of blood back to her head might as well be victory trumpets and the hum of a descending hovercraft.

* They grapple on the floor for what feels like an eternity, and Alaina fights mean and dirty and desperate, aiming for every weak spot that she can think of. Eventually, she manages to land a genuine hit on Enobaria, a fist hard and fast into her gut. Enobaria’s face contorts into something ugly, and Alaina knows that she isn’t the type just to take hits from kids who aren’t even through transition yet. One second, two, then a blow so hard to the back of Alaina’s head that she sees stars. It sends her reeling - she hits the mats. She hears the head trainer hiss Enobaria’s name through the ringing in her ears. There’s the low murmur of a conversation that she can’t make out, although she can’t suppose it’s for her benefit.

* A figure stalks towards her, and Alaina tenses, but her muscles won’t obey her commands and she can’t get up. Her eyes still cloud and refuse to focus, but as the person kneels down beside her, she manages to see who it is. Enobaria grabs her by the wrist and squeezes, forcing her fist to open. She presses something small, hard, and cold into Alaina’s palm. Alaina glances over and catches a flash of gold. Enobaria closes her fist around it and moves her hand down to Alaina’s pulse, letting Alaina feel it thrumming steadily and soothingly against her fingers. Alaina’s head swirls, and she finally passes out.

* The day of the Reaping, Alaina doesn’t hesitate. She calls out, strides forward and takes the stage with the confidence of a girl twice her size and six years her senior. Somehow, despite her age, she still drips blood and gore and entertainment - she wants it, she wants it bad, she’d realised the day in the sparring gym. She will maintain this persona - nice Alaina wouldn’t survive the Games, so she isn’t allowed to come. She’s been packed into a small box and put away. She can figure all of that out when she comes back, can work to unite the two parts of her that rage and scream and plea and cry for control. For now, it’s her, a bloodthirsty smile, and the gleam of sunlight on a sharpened blade. It’s her and the crown.

[lucy-sky]

✨get to know your moots✨

tagged by: @spacefarerbee

(Thank you! And sorry, I know it was ages ago, but better late than never I guess :'D)

what's the origin of your blog title?

A song by Gogol Bordello

favorite fandoms:

Jon Bernthal is the main one! Also I've met lovely ppl in Kyle Gallner fandom. Low key I intreact with Simon Pegg and Pedro Pascal fans too, and Shea Whigham fandom is small but rewarding :DD Also if anyone wants to talk about Stephen Graham - hello :'D

OTP(s) + ship name?

I'm not a big shipper tbh, but when it comes to favorite ships, the first thing that comes to mind is always Cherik. It's like an ultimate OTP for me I guess xDD Also Kastle :3

favorite color:

Red

favorite game:

I don't have one  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

song stuck in your head?

For some reason Take on Me is stuck since I saw the the 4th episode of The Last of Us

weirdest habit/trait?

When I go somewhere by bus and I'm at the window, and the glass is fogged, I can't help but draw a little ":)" on it with my finger (Lucy, 36 years old)

hobbies:

Drawing, giffing, scrapbooking in a way (i make cards for all my friends)... thinking of a movie journal because i recently got a mini printer so i can print out cute little pics from my phone :)

Also I go to bar quizzes with my team.

if you work, what's your profession?

Main job - librarian; side job - private teacher of English (sometimes French)

if you could have any job you wish what would it be?

I think it would still be something about languages... An accent coach? Would be fun :D

something you're good at:

Remembering useless movie quotes/facts :D Also I hope I'm good at teaching :'D

something you're bad at:

Math. And running

something you love:

Theatre, concerts - the energy I get from them <3

something you could talk about for hours off the cuff:

Movies!!

something you hate:

Making phone calls

something you collect:

Rubber ducks, pins, bookmarks

something you forget?

I often forget to buy tea to work

what's your love language?

Sending reels in instagram :DD Or pics/memes that remind me of you :3

favorite movie/show:

JUST ONE???????????????

favorite food:

Italian. And potatoes of any kind :D

favorite animal:

Fox

what were you like as a child?

Rather shy, but creative. Always had stories in my head. Could spend hours with lego. Obsessed with The Lion King.

favorite subject at school?

English

least favorite subject?

Math and Chemistry

what's your best character trait?

I think I'm quite empathetic

what's your worst character trait?

I... think there's of traits in me that ppl can find annoying, it's hard to tell which is the worst xDD Just from the top of my head - I often have difficuties making decisions.

if you could change any detail of your day right now what would it be?

I would go to bed yesterday insted of today xD

if you could travel in time who would you like to meet?

John Lennon

recommend one of your favorite fanfics (spread the love):

Okay okay okay... Can I just mention some of my favorite writers? Because It's super hard to choose particular stories :'D

@darlingshane

@anna-hawk

@a-supernova-girl

@itwasthereaminuteago

@chellestrash

@cinebration

Tagging anyone who wants to do this, but mostly my newest moots to get to know you guys (but it's okay if you don't wanna - no pressure at all :D) - @minidodds @amazonykamiaba @anythingbernthal @chris-hartley @hirunoka @mlentertainment @gallnerkyle

Bonus tag for bestie @andyridgeley (how can i not tag you? :D)

[favcharacterpoll]

ROUND 4 MATCH 12: C!WILBUR VS. STAN

c!Wilbur Soot from the DSMP faces Stanley Pines from Gravity Falls. Who do you like more? obligatory @10piecechickenmcnugget tag because your man is RUNNING THE GAUNTLET

c!Wilbur Propaganda:

"Accurate depiction of mental health and spiral, handled delicately and deliberately, every piece of his story was thought and planned and in the end he went home to Utah. Thank you lord."

"Please don’t let the name dream smp effect how you feel about this submission, this character is completely unrelated to dream and I’m pretty sure the person who played him has nothing to do with dream anymore. This man single handedly got me through a horrible patch filled with extreme paranoia by also being extremely paranoid. Genuinely really helped me feel seen and I coped a lot by getting invested in this character. I almost cried when he died :("

"He’s so fucking stupid. I could infodump for hours this man transed my gender. Everything has gone wrong in his life. He’s the definition of a bisexual disaster."

"I didn’t fail 10th grade math bc I was thinking about c!wilbur for him to lose round one"

"I mean look at him!! his Minecraft skin is adorable!!!"

"if you people vote for cwilbur i'll draw him in a bikini."

"A VOTE FOR C!WILBUR IS A VOTE FOR GIRLBOYS EVERYWHERE"

"i should not have underestimated minecraft fans they came together"

64.media.tumblr.com

"Season 1 changed me. I didn’t know minecraft videos could have good acting, dramatic plots, etc. Wilbur was one of the best there. His plot was so interesting with the L’Manburg and the unfinished symphony arcs. He was funny, dramatic, sad… I fondly remember my dsmp days (though I only saw up to like part of Tommy’s exile)"

Stan Propaganda:

"from the same creature that submitted ford and was too tired for actual propaganda. they’re pretty cool huh"

"That propaganda is disgraceful but I'm also too tired to write up any big things for it"

"Hi that lack of propaganda for Stan Pines is offensive to me personally so here's some fun stuff:

He's punched zombies AND an all-powerful demon to death for the sake of protecting his family. He spent thirty years trying to turn on a portal to the Multiverse to get his twin brother back. He still thinks sacrificing his entire being is all that he's good for, and that makes my heart so sad. He loves his family and his family loves him. He's a silver fox. He also punched a pterodactyl in the face because he felt so bad about lying to his niece and getting her pet pig kidnapped that he had to fix his mistake (and yes, he did get the pig back). His nemesis was a ten-year-old child psychic whom he knew was a fraud because the kid didn't even realize his name wasn't actually Stanford.

Man of all time. Character of all time."

[spidermanifested]

rambly deltarune posting again this one goes out to everybody who followed me for my old man comic. The oldman newfollowers if you will. and granted this all may be old news or it may be nothing im just having fun on my blog [Chapters 3&4 Spoilers Obviously]

THOUGHTS ON THE DELTA RUNE

friends recently called to my attention the fact that in math, a delta symbolizes change

would make a lotta sense if this is what the games doing with it!

the voice talking to kris in the intro and game over screens (who everybodys calling gaster, and yeah that seems like a safe bet but im not going to put all my eggs. as it were. in one basket) wants to obtain the delta rune. it has some property they want, and i think the property of "change" is very very in line with everything else

Now Consider: The Prophecy. so much of chapter 4 cements that this is in large part a story about stories (hi black sails i love you black sails) and id wager likely inspired by toby foxs own experiences as a storyteller. the prophecy evokes some type of source material, or maybe just an outline, something with fixed points and a fixed trajectory but with plenty of wiggle room in between.

and considering gerson (who is himself an author) basically says all that flat out i dont think i have to justify that part too much more i can move on yes. Okay cool

where i Do think i might differ from most peoples takeaway is i dont quite think gersons saying "you can always change your fate/the ending of the video game deltarune if you simply try hard enough" especially since this games being written by someone who is not us and who has said theres only one ending. we quite literally dont get to decide how it ends! toby fox might pull something but still

when gerson talks about the prophecy he seems to mainly take issue with the *doctrine* of it– forcing oneself to fit into someone elses reading, even when it doesnt apply very well. he talks about interpretation, reading between the lines, picking up yourself where it leaves off. if the prophecy represents a source material, you cant really un-write whats already written, but youre still an active participant every time you bring your own lens to the text. by the same measure, you can take your own approach to the hands life deals you. there isnt one correct way to live.

this hasnt been the game about The Unique Power Of Determination so far; i dont think the solution to whatever quandary lies at the end is just "the gang fights a guy about it and SAVES DELTARUNE"

but then theres *The* delta rune. and if it really does hold the power of change, maybe it COULD let someone in this world use that power. the power to create a whole new story? something like the relationship between this game and undertale? (Or like. fanfiction. with the power of the delta rune we have created 5 thousand new types of sans)

if its gaster who wants it then, thatd be a pretty understandable motivation. i too would want to be a normal living person instead of a disembodied leitmotif

but whats more interesting than the gaster stuff to me is how a lot of other characters, at the moment anyway, seem to *clash* with change rather than desire it. the impulse to keep everything the same way forever is at the same time treated as sympathetic and universal, but also misguided, dangerous and downright impossible.

susie expresses wanting to live the same day over and over after finding friendship in the dark world. carol has put her entire house in literal cryostasis. asgore is desperate to get his family "back to normal" before his son gets home from college even though "normal" Was Not Good For Anybody, and hes making things worse by chasing a return to it!

so. the power of change is not going to be an immediately helpful-seeming force to the main trio, i dont think, and susie in particular will probably struggle with it because for the first time in her life shes found a status quo that makes her happy. god.

fun fact when the chapters dropped and i was first watching people play them, i was at my moms elementary school helping teach her class for the last few days of the year, and one of her students was this girl whod had a hard time in the foster system but she immediately latched onto me and gave me things out of her desk. So watching susies more emotional scenes i did cry

in any case what destination all these pieces are headed towards i can only wait and see. its goign to be so good though i know it is

and in the end. i mean. Literally in the end, all stories have to end sometime. the game cant go on forever like we might want it to, unless we all got together and kept it going ourselves. who knows maybe the real deltarune... was the friends we made along the way

THOUGHTS ABOUT THE SOUL

i talked about my "this soul maybe does not originally belong to kris" thing in the ghost trick post but heres another thing ive been pondering

the lyrics of the song in chapter 3 mention "your heart as my ark". obviously loads of christian imagery in the deltarune mythos but noahs ark specifically was a vessel for escaping one worlds end and being brought into a new one

so we have the delta rune, this thing that (if im right) could Create a whole new world.

And, theres one commonality attached to the heart in both games. right? someone whos traveled from the old world? into the new one?

🫵😐

i think either this is referring to Us having literally come here from undertale, or a character from undertale has hitched a ride on the soul. or both. theres been a really good meshing of the baseline story with the meta aspects so far in a way that you dont have to sacrifice one reading to make sense of the other, so im hoping that keeps up, as hard as i know it probably is to write

i dont really have anything else to add to this one at the present time. umm. When the video game is good

[s-lorelei]

🌿 Sheileigh (Shylee) 🌿 She/Her || 21

Sex: female ♀️

Sexuality: aroace/bisexual 🏳️‍🌈

Fun fact: I made this divider! ♥︎

Fandoms: AoT, Sk8, WoF, Warrior Cats, Harry Potter, HTTYD, ATLA, Hazbin Hotel

Personality: sweet as a lemon 🍋 {I can be super sweet though, I swear 🍰}

💚 Likes: coffee w/ extra creamer, dill pickle chips, spicy food, thunderstorms, fluffy clothes, succulents, hyacinths, betta fish, cats, honeybees, tigers, reading, cottagecore anything..

⚠️ Dislikes: rain (the getting wet part), cold weather, math, cigarette smoke, men who are jackasses to me or any of my girlies, dogs, wasps (why do they have to exist?), fanfiction, people who act like jerks and then turn around and play the victim when they’re finally accused of their awful behavior..

🚫 Things I absolutely despise: ATYD, trans rights activists who don't do their research, anti-feminists (asshole men & idiot women who think they can't live without a man), people who hate J.K. Rowling, proshippers, Severus Snape haters (Snaters), Tiktok, Donald Trump, Mike Johnson, Pete Hegeseth, J.D. Vance (hillbilly, my ass. You're from Ohio, my guy.), Marjorie Taylor Greene, RFK Jr, literally anyone in the Trump Administration right now.

💖 Things that I adore: Santa Fe salad, my grandma's cooking (seriously, she makes some awesome chicken and carrot stew.), Justin Trudeau, Volodomyr Zylenskyy, my cat Apollo.

‼️ Current obsessions: Tinker Bell lore/fairies

🚫 DNI LIST ‼️:

Misogynists

TRAs

Trump supporters

"Pro-life" supporters

Anti-Ukrainian/Pro-Putinists

Radqueers

"Plural" people with "systems." This is called having a mental illness, and you should probably be looked at by a medical professional.

Proshippers (as in the people who write incest or pedophilia fics on their blogs because I have seen some)

Marauders stans (If you're a normal Marauders era person, you're fine. I just don’t need any delulu tiktok fans in here.)

Snaters

Any form of paraphilia (pedophilia, agraphilia, necrophilia, etc.)

Islamophobics/antisemitics

People who identify as 100+ different things because that's just weird and unnecessary

Yes, I will know because I look at profiles when people follow or reblog.

EXTRA (things I am):

A gender critical, radical feminist, and no I don't care if you hate me for it

A person who loves canon works. No, I'm not reading a 500k word fanfic that's an AU while everyone on Tiktok is passing it off as the law. I'll read it to criticize it and that's it.

A democrat in a deeply red state

A multishipper (I learned this from my high school years of watching anime.)

A heart surgery patient. I had surgery when I was ten to repair seven holes in my ventricle septum. (Shoutout to the Vanderbilt doctors of Nashville, TN!)

(I also made this one!)

FANDOM INFO (interests and just stuff to do with fandoms/books and television):

Favourite genres: mystery, thriller, fantasy

Favourite books: The Giver, The Hobbit, Red, White & Royal Blue, Harry Potter and The Half-Blood Prince, Wings of Starlight

Favourite animes: Attack on Titan, Sk∞ the Infinity, Banana Fish, No.6, Yuri!!! on Ice, Terror in Resonance, Seraph of the End, My Hero Academia, Your Name

Favourite mangas: Assassination Classroom, Attack on Titan, Apocalypse no Toride (seriously, this is such a good manga and deserves an anime, the issue is that the author stopped updating/the manga got axed 😭)

Favourite characters: Draco Malfoy, Severus Snape, Bill Weasley, Bilbo Baggins, Ravi Singh, Henry George Edward James Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor, Jean Kirstein, Tamaki Amajiki, Cloudykit, Whiteout, Turtle, Queen Snowfall (a lot of Wings of Fire characters)

Favourite Disney movies: Raya and The Last Dragon, Brave, Moana (the first one, not whatever wretched thing the second one was), Tuck Everlasting, The Lone Ranger, Bolt, Encanto, Lilo & Stitch (no, not the live action garbage)

Favourite Dreamworks movies: Spirit: Stallion of the Cimarron, every HTTYD movie, El Dorado, every Shrek movie (except this newest one, probably), Shark Tale, Kung Fu Panda, Over The Hedge, The Croods, there's so many Dreamworks movies that I love.

Overall favourite movie: Coraline (I could literally watch it on repeat forever), I also love Racing Stripes.

Favourite ships: Eruri, Milarion {Queen Clarion × Lord Milori}, Drarry, Snily, Harry × Luna, Draco × Pansy (ik I also ship drarry but dransy is so cute ngl), AshEiji, Victuri, Nezushi, Jeankasa, Kiribaku, Izuocha, and many more.

[headmateelevator]

..four..! Take good care of them will ya?

a self indulgent pack to get us back into this!

name(s) - four , 4 , Aristaeus , Fleur , Gemini , IV , Gamma , Kippie , Marlowe , Muse , Nikolai , Piper , Pixie , Rhys , Sillie , Graham , Integer , Amel , Azure , Avery , Blue , Flor , Whimsy , Wisteria , Yvette , Zephyre , Ziggy

pronouns - he / him / it / its / they / them / she / her / xe / xey / x / x's / al / algebras / dream / dreams / fi / fight / blu / blues / host / hosts / infi / infinite / number / numbers / 🔢 / 🔢s / fi / fizz / iv / ivs / ix / ixs / mis / mischief / odd / odds / puzzle / puzzles / shi / hir / sie / hir / sil / silly / vi / vir / web / webs / zhe / zher / ? / ?s / four / fours / 4 / 4's / name / nameself / 🌀 / 🌀s / 🔵 / 🔵s / 🔷 / 🔷s / 💙 / 💙s

gender(s) - doesn't care for the concept of gender / agender , Evilincident , Genderhubris , Glitchsilly , Sillyesque , Sillyevilthing , Sillyoriune , Sillystar , Errorbeing , Oddthing , Yippeesplatic , 404gender , genderfuck , explosivegender , chaosgender

orientations - aro-spec biromantic asexual

role(s) - co-host (probably wanting to become host) , chaosnaut , histromate (if applicable) , bitch

species - number gijinka

source(s) - four , BFDI

emoji(s) - 4️⃣ , 🌀 , 💙 , 🔢 , 🫐

likes - watching his source , X , halloween , math , juice boxes , yelling , talking peoples ears off , people saying nice things to them , sleeping (likes having dreams)

dislikes - feeling left out , criticism it doesn't feel is valid , fire , percieved abandonment , people who they think have annoying voices

front triggers - source / sourcemates (especially X or any others they have a positive opinion of) , math , feelings of abandonment ,

typing quirk - puts a 4 in place of an "A" , uses a lot of emoticons and punctuation , usually four exclamation marks. ex : "the quick brown fox jumps over the l4zy dog!!!! ^_^"

faceclaims -

( 1 - 2 - 3 )

the emojis might suck because our computer refuses to cooperate,, but this was fun to do and i think i'll be able to get back to requests soon!

[narrans]

My Borrowed Son | 12 | Snow Day

Chapter Twelve | Snow Day

The alarm didn’t need to wake him up. He was already awake. Parker was up and dressed reading his papers for class later that day. They were reading some fun books from Mr. Tamplin including “The Magic Treehouse,” “Charlotte’s Web,” and “Fantastic Mr. Fox.” All of them seemed a bit easy if Parker was being honest with himself, but Mr. Tamplin was already ahead of the curve.

He had recommended a few books specifically for Parker that were technically “above his reading level,” but assured Parker that they were well within his level of comprehension. Books like “Eragon,” “The Maze Runner,” and “A Wrinkle in Time,” now filled Parker’s entire room.

His mom had picked out the books on a tablet she gifted to him with his first perfect report card and now Parker couldn’t get enough. For hours, he stared at the screen and flipped through page after page as he devoured the books.

It wasn’t just Mr. Tamplin who was investing in more advanced options for Parker. His science teacher, Ms. Raegan Ocha, had recommended some fascinating biology books as well as some documentaries for Parker to watch. His math class felt fundamental, so Mrs. Cora Doorman-Knowell, supplied additional assignments that now placed Parker at a 7th grade level.

The only one who didn’t seem willing to provide additional studying material was Ms. Kain, who seemed adamant that history was best taught in person and that he could learn with the rest of his classmates. Thankfully, Parker’s mom found a tutor who was willing to help give him some additional assignments.

It made things easier that he could study on his own and had his mother’s help when he needed it. He also had additional tutoring sessions because, as his mom said, she didn’t want him to feel limited and wanted to give him the tools he needed to succeed.

What made everything so great was that his mom never forced him to do the extra assignments. Everything he did was because he wanted to do it – and he loved it. Parker loved learning, and it was only helping him understand the world more. He didn’t find anything else about his condition, sadly, but that was okay. Perhaps, one day, he would learn enough to be a leading scientist to cure and discover more about his own condition.

So, as Parker finished his reading and logged onto his account, a message flashed on the screen that made his heart sink.

“School Closed: Snow Day”

Snow? Wait! It snowed!

Parker quickly leapt up from his desk and ran across the table toward his ladder that led up to the window. He hurried up one hand hold after the next until he stood on the ledge. His heart fluttered nervously as he pushed the curtain off to the side ever so slightly and slipped between the fabric and glass.

The moment he did, he saw it – a winter wonderland.

The snow was already a few inches deep and covered the windowsill as well as part of the yard outside. Big, fluffy snowflakes drifted from the light gray sky that Parker could have sworn was a big as him. He pressed his palms against the frosty glass and watched as his breath fog up the scene in front of him.

Parker loved the snow. As disappointed as he was that school was closed for the day, he was equally as excited to go outside and play in the snow.

He remembered the first time he saw snow. It was late in the day, and he had just finished dinner with his mom when she hurried to the kitchen all excited. She scooped him up and spoke quickly before pulling the curtains and holding him up to the window. His sporadic memory filled in the gaps of him getting dressed in a few extra blankets as his mom brought him outside.

Parker remembered the frigid air hitting him and the pinch of snow his mom gave him as she placed it in her palm with him. He was six or so years old if he remembered correctly.

Parker remembered grabbing one of the snowflakes in his fingers and staring at it in awe. Seeing something so small and so beautiful was mesmerizing. It made him feel, in a weird way, complete. Like things this small were supposed to exist – like he was supposed to be there.

It was a weird, momentary sensation and something Parker would remember for the rest of his life.

“Parker?”

Hearing his name made him jump out of his skin. With his heart pounding, Parker realized he had been drawn into memories long since passed.

“Yes, momma?” he called back as he stepped out from behind the curtain. He saw his mom come into the bedroom with a cup of hot chocolate and a much smaller cup for him. He hurried down the ladder and waved to his mom to let her know where he was. She was bundled up in her stay-at-home robe, meaning that she was working from home today.

“There you are sweetie. I was trying not to wake you, but it looks like you were already up for school,” said his mom. She handed him the small mug once he was settled at his desk. “Sorry. The school called this morning saying school was cancelled. I turned off the alarms, but it seems like you were already up.”

“Yeah, I had to know what happened in the next chapter of Eragon,” said Parker as he sniffled the hot chocolate in his mug. He played with the top of the marshmallow as it blipped beneath the chocolate, leaving little lines on its white surface.

“Oh? Is it a good book?” asked his mom. Parker knew she had already read through the book once before, but she refused to talk about it in fear of spoiling anything for her son. It was frustrating for Parker. It was knowledge she had but wasn’t sharing.

“It’s so good! I just got to the part where Saphira took Eragon away. He rode her, momma! He’s a dragon rider! But what’s going to happen to his uncle? He’s going to be okay, right?” asked Parker. His mom hid behind her mug and smiled.

“I don’t know. You’ll have to read about it and tell me,” she said. Parker’s bottom lip stuck out as his brow furrowed.

“I don’t like that you do that. If you know, you should just tell me. I don’t like you knowing and me not knowing,” mumbled Parker. In frustration, he took a big bite out of his marshmallow and stared at his mug.

Because he was looking down and away, Parker missed the sudden pained look in his mom’s eyes.

Amanda heard that statement and could only think about the biggest secret she had ever kept in her life. Guilt weighed on her mind and on her soul. She wanted to tell Parker everything, and yet she wanted to keep these secrets for the rest of her life.

She wanted to tell him about the fake “condition” she gave him to keep him safe.

She wanted to tell him how he came into her life.

She wanted to tell him about the research she had done about the small people fictions she had found all those years ago when she first found him.

And yet she didn’t at the same time.

In a flash, all of these thoughts, worries, and desires were gone, and she was once again Amanda Silverstein sitting there with her son, Parker, drinking hot chocolate on his very first snow day.

“Momma?” Parker’s voice pulled her from her thoughts. She cleared her throat and looked down at her son.

“Yes, sweetie?” she asked.

“Um… would it be okay if I go outside and play in the snow? And then call Billy and Bailey?” asked Parker. Parker’s mom smiled as she considered her son’s request.

“Of course,” she smiled. “Which do you want to do first?”

“Play! It’s still snowing outside,” cheered Parker as he hurried into his room and pulled out as many layers as he could. He intended to make some fun things to show his friends, and the sooner the better.

Amanda helped get Parker dressed and quickly dressed herself before checking outside and scooping up the miniscule child. The way Parker was dressed reminded her of the kid from “A Christmas Story” when he couldn’t put down his arms. Despite his appearance, however, Parker was still agile and flexible.

The layers he picked kept him maneuverable and warm at the same time. He had never liked feeling too restrained or unable to move freely. It was weird. He was never claustrophobic and, if he was being honest, he enjoyed small and tight spaces. It was the thought of being restrained and unable to move or get away that made him uncomfortable.

Just another odd sensation that crept up in him from time to time.

The sudden rush of cold air from the outside world drew his attention to the present and, within minutes, Parker was outside in the snow making snow angels with his momma.

There were several clear spaces by the house, but slightly in the neighbor’s yard, that were free of footsteps and debris that Parker started his work.

He started by making a daisy chain of snow angels, which his mom took pictures of. Next, he started making the biggest snowboy family he could muster. His mom helped from time to time, but she mostly helped by snapping twigs and finding eyes and noses for Parker’s creations. This, too, was picture worthy.

It wasn’t until Parker walked up to the tree and started climbing the bark and jumping into the snow that he noticed something odd.

Parker’s mom had stepped away for a moment because a client called her and needed some information. So, in the meantime, Parker decided to try and climb around the tree by grasping onto the bark and shimmying from one side to the next.

When Parker made it to the opposite side of the tree, he noticed something that made his hair stand on end. It was so odd that he actually dropped to the ground and rubbed his eyes with the backs of his hands.

Footprints.

At least, he thought they looked like footprints.

They were right by the base of the tree and, upon further investigation, led into the roots.

Parker was absolutely taken aback. Shaking all over, he stepped forward and pressed his shoes into the snow and saw that the prints were a little bigger than his, but about the same proportionally.

But… how?

Did this belong to an animal? Or did this belong to someone like him? Was there someone else like him out here in the cold?

His mind began to race and made him feel nauseous. He needed to know more. Carefully, he stepped forward under the tree roots and glanced around. Like a detective, he began combing over the snow covered leaves and along the dirt. Something about the place felt secure to him, and that odd sensation of being watched crept over him again.

Parker whipped around and nearly leapt out of his skin to see his mom leaning over by the roots peering in at him. There was something completely unnerving about seeing a giant, looming eye over him.

Again, why?

This was his mom.

“Parker? What are you doing in there?” asked his mom. He began to sputter over his words as he clambered out of the roots.

“Momma! Momma! I… I think there’s someone else out here!” Parker proclaimed. His mom’s features stiffened as she glanced from Parker to the tree roots.

“Someone else? That’s not possible,” she said. Not possible? How could she say something like that?

“It’s true! Look! There are footprints. They look like mine!” urged Parker as he ran over and pointed to the spots he saw before. At second look, they were filled partially with snow, meaning they had probably been there for a while.

His mom’s eyes narrowed as she knelt further and evaluated the area. Her heart was racing a million miles a minute. Was there someone else small like Parker out here in the snow? Did they leave because they came outside to play? Or were they gone? What would happen if whoever left these footprints found Parker? Would they have the answers he was looking for? Or would something else have happened?

To Amanda, the moment lasted a lifetime. She tried to compose herself as she gazed down into her son’s eagerly awaiting eyes.

What could she tell him?

Was now the time to talk about the truth?

She tried to look calm and confident, but the intuitive child may have seen her flash of fear moments earlier.

To Parker, on the other hand, she seemed a bit quiet and tense and not nearly half as excited as he felt. This was possibly his chance to meet someone his size! Ask them questions about their condition and if they knew anything else that he didn’t know.

“Parker.” Just the way she said his name made Parker feel defeated. “I think these might’ve just belonged to a small critter like a mouse or rat. Maybe even a squirrel? I just don’t know who would be out in cold like this.”

“But… momma…”

Parker looked back at the footprints and, much like the episode of that science show his mom liked, “Bones,” there was that weird reasonable doubt in his mind. Maybe it did belong to something else. Also, his condition was an extremely rare one. What were the chances of someone like him being out in a place like this in a snowstorm?

It was probably just feeling.

Parker sighed and nodded.

“Maybe.”

“Good. Now, I think we’ve had enough fun in the snow. Let’s get inside and get warm; and maybe, just maybe, you and I can read some of that ��Eragon’ book together. Would you like that?” asked Amanda.

“Yes, momma,” said Parker, feeling a bit defeated. He climbed back onto his mom’s hand and stared at the scene in front of him. The little snowboys. The little snow angels.

Everything was so little.

Parker sighed and pulled his legs into his chest as his mom carried the both of them back into the house. The entire trip back, he couldn’t help but think that his mom might have been keeping something from him. There was something in her eyes that just made her waver.

What was it?

And why?

Parker shrugged it off.

Perhaps, one day, he would ask her about it. Until then, he let himself feel excited that he and his momma were going to spend some time reading on this beautiful, snowy day.

…..

Too bad he didn’t look up into the branches high above….

~~~~~^*^*^*^*^~~~~~

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