#and i only JUST figured out tuning and stabilizers...

[bagea]

my NEXT <3

[plutotheplum]

Winter's Kiss

sylus x fem!reader

summary: luke and kieran rope you into spending christmas at the n109 zone (and kissing their boss).

cw: fluff, soft!sylus, kissing under the mistletoe, luke and kieran being idiots, found family

wc: 2.7k

a/n: merry christmas eve/christmas my lovelies!! some fluff for the holiday season! here's to hoping sylus turns up under our christmas trees :)

also on ao3!

Somehow, you’d ended up in the N109 Zone for Christmas.

It wasn’t like the barrage of texts from Luke and Kieran had weighed upon your decision, the rapid influx of messages from the twins demanding your presence for Christmas. That coupled with the image of Sylus alone on Christmas night hadn’t made your stomach churn and heart ache at all.

The year had been a tumultuous one. Wanderers, disturbing visions and wanted criminals had you on edge these past few months, so perhaps unwinding with said, now somewhat mellow, wanted criminals was warranted in some way. 

You heft the presents under your arms, moving your fingers to stabilize the wrapped goods when you feel one of them begin to slip. Shopping hadn’t been too difficult, although choosing a gift for Sylus had proved to be somewhat of a challenge. You weren’t sure whether to get him something heartfelt or to gift him a refurbished gun with new prototyped features that were advertised to the Hunter Association. 

The glittering streams of tinsel drags you out of your thoughts, a smile pulling at your lips as you imagine Luke, Kieran and Sylus decorating. You hear panicked, hushed whispers when you turn the corner, a laugh spilling out of you when you see the sight before you.

Luke perched atop Kieran’s shoulders, Kieran grumbling irritatedly when Luke flails and misses the tip of the Christmas tree, the golden star falling off only for Kieran to shift and have Luke catch it.

“It’s not that hard, you idiot,” Kieran grunts, his knees bending in an attempt to readjust to Luke’s weight.

“Then you try!” Luke protests.

“I thought you two were meant to be in tune,” you muse, stepping closer, over the strewn wrapping paper and bending down to add your presents to the growing collection under the Christmas tree. 

“We are,” they both say in unison, their eyes landing on you.

“You made it!” Luke says happily, squirming, “Boss will be glad.”

“ Really glad,” Keiran adds, his annoyance forgotten momentarily. “We’re glad too.”

You smile at them, crossing your arms over your chest. “It’s nice to see you guys too. Maybe you should try holding the star at the tip, Luke?”

“That’s what I told him!” Kieran says, letting out an aggrieved sigh. 

Luke huffs indignantly, adjusting his position yet again as Keiran steps closer to the tree, giving Luke some more leverage. It’s another failed attempt and Kieran is rolling his eyes, dumping Luke onto his feet unceremoniously. 

“You do me now.”

“What about her?” Luke asks, pointing at you.

“You could ask Mephisto,” you offer, pointing at the mechanical crow that was currently preening his feathers. “What do you say, buddy?”

Mephisto gives an indignant squawk, his little head turning away arrogantly, tending to his feathers with care.

“Nevermind,” you sigh, before looking towards the twins. “Kieran is taller than me, though.”

“Just get on,” Luke whines as he bends his knees, waiting for you to climb up onto his shoulders.

You open your mouth to protest, but there’s a warm hand curling over your hip, pulling you back gently, flush against a firm chest. “Let’s not badger our guest, hm?”

Deep and velvety, you have no doubts as to who this voice belongs to. Your head tilts back to find Sylus smirking down at you, his expression amused.

“Glad you could join us, sweetie. The N109 Zone isn’t usually so… festive.”

“Yeah, well, apparently you were missing me, so I figured I’d drop in,” you tease, a sly smile spreading across your face.

Luke and Kieran snicker until Sylus’ stern expression silences them, his hand squeezing at your hip in warning.

“I never said that.”

“Must’ve been the wind,” you murmur.

“Right,” Sylus deadpans.

You squeak when the red mist wraps around you, lifting you off of the ground, the golden star being thrust into your hand by the same swirling mist. The trio of men beneath you seem amused as the tendrils sweep you higher, closer to the top of the tree, giving you enough height to place the star right where it needs to be.

Sylus’ Evol dissipates as it sets you down onto your feet, the mist sweeping across playfully and making your dress flutter. 

“That’s one way to do it,” Kieran remarks, slinging his arm over Luke’s shoulders before they shoot each other knowing glances and disappear from the living room.

“You came,” Sylus says once the twins have left, his arms crossing over his chest.

“I did,” you reply, peering up at him, your hands clasping behind your back, “too bad you never sent me a personal invitation.” Sylus smiles, and you can’t help but think he looks softer in this light, the ruthless leader of Onychinus replaced by a man who seems less intense and more accommodating than usual.

“I figured Luke and Kieran would’ve gotten through to you,” he muses, his head tilting as he lets his gaze dip over you.

You do the same, taking in his sweater and trousers, trying to quell the inconvenient yet undeniable pull of attraction you feel towards him. 

“Well, they did,” you sigh, managing to drag your gaze back up to meet his, “although I can’t say I appreciated how many texts they sent.”

“The twins tend to get excited,” Sylus replies, reaching out towards you, his fingers tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

It’s hard to not notice how Sylus’ touch lingers for a moment, his expression looking a little absent-minded as though remembering something from the past. Your brows furrow, unable to decide between asking him or letting his touch linger further. His hand drops away after a few moments before he clears his throat. 

“I made dinner,” he announces.

You laugh, eyes lighting up at the thought of Sylus in the kitchen. You don’t quite believe him though, not when Sylus had enough money to hire at least a dozen personal chefs.

“You’re not serious,” you say, head tilting in amusement.

“I am,” Sylus smirks, his hand landing on your lower back as he guides you forward, towards the hallway, “Luke and Kieran pitched in.”

“Now I feel special,” you muse.

“I suppose you are,” Sylus replies, his expression sobering, “to all of us.”

You’re taken aback by the sincerity in his words, heart giving way to a flutter that you attempt to squash down by pinching yourself, not that it helps. This sense of belonging isn’t what you’d planned on, warmth blooming in your chest as you stare up at Sylus and remember the twins. It’s nice, really, to be valued like this. You can’t help but think you could get used to it. 

Laughter echoes through the hallway as you and Sylus move through it. You startle when Kieran shouts, his voice urgent. 

“Don’t move!”

“Oh, look at that ,” Luke sighs dramatically, feigning innocence as he peers upwards, directing his gaze above you and Sylus.

Bewilderment flashes across your face until you hear Sylus let out a low laugh. You tip your head back, eyes narrowing when you spy the sprig of mistletoe hanging right above where you’re standing. Mephisto adds in something that sounds like a suspiciously happy squawk, and you stare at the crow, realising you’ve been betrayed. 

“Funny,” you say drily, shaking your head. 

Kieran sighs just like Luke, as though he can’t quite believe the situation. The cunning expression in their eyes gives them away. 

Devious, little brats.

“Well, you can’t move now,” Luke says, sounding positively aggrieved. 

“I suppose you’ll just have to kiss, isn’t that right?” Kieran says, looking towards Luke. Luke nods, a self-satisfied smile settling on his face. “Those are the rules.”

“What rules?” you shoot back, glaring at the pair of twins, “there are no rules. I could quite literally just walk away.”

“Christmas tradition !” Luke and Kieran both argue, their faces looking a little crestfallen when they hear the tone of your voice, “you have to kiss!”

You can feel your heart twinge at the earnest tone present in their voices, your eyes flickering up to meet Sylus’. Strangely enough, he doesn’t seem to have any protests, his gaze boring down into yours expectantly. 

“You seriously have nothing to say?” you grouse, head tilting.

“It’s just a kiss, sweetie,” he replies, his arm wrapping around your waist to bring you closer to him. “What’s the matter, hm? Afraid you’ll fall for me?”

“The thought is laughable,” you retort, trying to ignore the soothing squeeze of his hand against your side; the unrelenting warmth that was currently seeping into you and melting your hardened resolve.

“I suppose we’ll find out,” Sylus murmurs, his fingers gripping your chin to tilt your head. “We have time.”

“Move a little to the right!” Kieran calls out, waving his hand.

“What for?” you ask exasperatedly, feeling Sylus step closer, moving you with him.

“For- for the aesthetic !” Luke huffs out.

The twins look a little impatient as you stare at them, your brows furrowing further when you see Kieran whisper something to Luke.

Sylus doesn’t let you dwell longer on the twins’ antics, his calloused hand cupping your cheek to turn you towards him. 

“Merry Christmas, sweetie.”

Your eyes flutter shut as his lips slot over yours, your hand curling around his wrist. Sylus kisses you like he means it, lips soft yet insistent, his thumb smoothing over your cheek. You forget where you are momentarily, knees feeling weak as you fist his sweater pulling him closer, rising up on the tips of your toes to meet his kiss better.

Sylus tilts his head, deepening the kiss. Your stubborn resolve weakens pitifully and you can only think about how perfect this moment is, how good Sylus’ lips feel, how warm his embrace is-

There’s a blinding array of flashes, white sparking out from under your closed eyelids until your eyes snap open, head turning to the side to find both Luke and Kieran with cameras in hand.

“Oh, shit,” Luke begins.

“I thought the flash was off,” Kieran mutters, frowning.

You grit your teeth, taking one step towards them, your eyes narrowing. “Give that to me.”

Luke and Kieran hug their cameras to their chest protectively.

“Christmas memories,” Luke laughs nervously when he sees the determination in your eyes. “Wouldn’t- wouldn’t want to lose those.”

Kieran nods in agreement.

“Boss!” They cry out when the cameras get swept out of their hands by Sylus’ Evol, one of them landing in your hands.

You click through the images, heat blossoming in your stomach when you see how intimate the kiss looks, Sylus’ body pressed firmly against yours, his hand on your cheek. It’s romantic, your somewhat eager response, Sylus’ tight hold, all captured closely through the lens.

“‘s nice,” Sylus murmurs, his chest pressing up against your back as he peers down at the little camera screen.

“ No ,” you shake your head vehemently, “it’s not nice.”

“We look good,” he whispers, his voice dropping lower, lips brushing over the shell of your ear.

You try to ignore the way his hands feel on your hips, his body pressing a little closer into yours. It’s hard not to agree with him the longer you stare at the images though, you do look good, and Luke’s interjection about Christmas memories has you feeling a little forgiving. 

“Fine, keep them,” you sigh, handing the camera back to Luke whilst Sylus does the same to Kieran, “but don’t share them, please.”

Luke and Kieran nod enthusiastically and you snag onto Kieran’s arm before he can leave, your voice dropping to a low whisper.

“Send them to me,” you whisper, “and not a word to anyone.”

Kieran smiles deviously and you roll your eyes, reaching up to ruffle his hair. 

“You’re such a jerk, Kieran.”

“C’mon,” he whines, “you love us.”

You smile up at him, your arm hooking with his. “Maybe just a little.”

He snorts and you let out a laugh, following after Luke and Sylus who had left earlier, talking about something else. Dinner goes smoothly enough and you refuse to tell Luke and Kieran what their presents are, despite their whining.

You feed Mephisto little bites of your food, your finger petting his little feathery head gently every now and then. He preens at the attention, letting out an odd sounding chirp every now and then when you tap his little beak and offer him some more food.

Sylus is seated beside you and it’s becoming increasingly difficult to stop stealing glances at the side of his face. The longer you stare, the more you can feel yourself falling deeper, a pressing crisis unfolding in your mind. 

Fuck . You think you might like him.

Deep rooted feelings of yearning never lead to any good, and yet, you were too impatient not to act on them.You wait patiently, fingers playing with themselves in your lap, for the perfect opportunity. 

It presents itself when Luke and Kieran break out into an insignificant quarrel, their eyes moving elsewhere. Sylus is already looking towards you and you’re leaning forward, cupping the back of his head to bring him closer, lips meeting his in a slow, sweet kiss. 

“What was that for?” Sylus murmurs when you break away, his eyes roving over the flush settling on your cheeks.

“No reason,” you reply nonchalantly, leaning back in your chair.

Sylus scoffs out a laugh, behaving seemingly unaffected. There’s a light flush dusted across his cheeks however, his tongue darting out to taste the remnants of you on his lips.

“This is for no reason too,” he says, grabbing your chin and pulling you closer.

You sigh contentedly when he kisses you, arms wrapping around his neck, your lips working against his a little feverishly as though you can’t get enough.

A cacophony of protests breaks out from the twins when they see you and Sylus kissing at the table.

“Gross! Get a room!”

You roll your eyes, breaking away from Sylus to peer over at them. 

“You were the ones that made us kiss,” you huff, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Yeah, we didn’t mean all the time,” Luke corrects.

“Deal with it,” Sylus interrupts, brushing a kiss to your cheek.

You hum happily, Sylus’ hand warm as it encases yours under the table. Luke pouts and Kieran mirrors him, both of them slumping back in their chairs.

You and Sylus get a little more privacy when you step outside, snow dusting across both of you, covering the shrubbery and trees. Mephisto swoops through the air, his mechanical wings flapping as he lands on a tree branch above. The icy chill of the wintery air isn’t so bad, not when Sylus is stepping up behind you, his chin resting on your shoulder as he holds you close to him.

“It was bound to happen,” he murmurs, kissing your cheek again as you stare up at the night sky, glittering with stars.

“You seem awfully sure of yourself,” you reply, squeezing his forearms.

“Let’s just say… I had an inkling. I know you, sweetie.”

“I don’t understand what you mean sometimes,” you sigh, peering up at him, head resting on his shoulder.

“You don’t have to,” he whispers, dropping a kiss to your temple.

You sway gently in his arms, pressing yourself closer, eyes slipping shut. You’d kill for more moments of peace like this.

It never seems to last for long.

The beginnings of torn wrapping paper begin to fill your ears and you peek through the glass window to find the twins tearing at their presents.

“Oh, these are sick !” Luke announces, beginning to twirl around the pair of knives you had gotten him.

“They have to wait!” you protest, reaching for the door, “Sylus, they have to wait!”

“Let them,” Sylus murmurs, dragging you back into his arms, his chest rumbling with laughter.

You can’t help but let out an exasperated noise, smiling up at him. Sylus lowers his head and you nudge your nose against his gently, pressing a tender kiss to his lips.

“What?” he asks quietly when you trace the curve of his cheek, your fingers splaying across his skin.

You kiss him again, revelling in the softness of his eyes when you pull apart. There's a strange warmth in your chest, an unknown pull in the back of your mind as though something familiar were evading you.

You feel like you know him too.

“Merry Christmas, Sylus.”

[otomes-and-tears]

it’s meeeeeeeee i’m shiloh enjoyer #3!!!! revolving him around in my brain every day like it’s a microwave 😭😭 i know you’re busy with a lot of other asks at the moment but i’m eagerly awaiting the lizzie post!! and all of your other writing ofc <33 you brighten my day :D

HELLO TO THE MYSTERIOUS SHILOH ENJOYER #3! I think we're all here now haha I'm glad you enjoy my analysis posts! NOW BUCKLE UP, BUCKAROOS! THIS ONE IS GOING TO BE LOWKEY SAD: Elizabeth is perhaps the most complex and defining relationship in Shiloh's life.

First of all, it's one of the few we see glimpses of throughout several steps in his life-- we see how he idolises her as a child, how he acts towards her when they reconnect in his teenage years and glimpses of how the different versions of him act with her in adulthood. It's likely the oldest relationship he maintains that isn't familial, and I think that's incredibly significant when we take into consideration what I believe to be one of the paradoxical cores of Shiloh's character: Connections and relationships are disposable to him, but Shiloh is only Shiloh as long as there’s someone there. He still feels lonely.

I talked a little before about Shiloh's childhood. How the social dynamics he established as a kid ended up influencing his behaviour as a teenager: He sees Lizzie as the obvious leader, since she's older and more assertive than him and MC, and follows her around and obeys her every whim because of it. Whether he genuinely likes her or not is up for debate, but I don’t think it matters to Shiloh. What she means to him is something that can far supersede any simple likes or dislikes that he might feel at that age:

She provides stability and purpose. She’s his anchor against the mean kids, the teasing, the isolation. All he has to do is stay in her favour. Lizzie is his first encounter with a power dynamic he can rely on and emulate as he grows, and therefore she becomes someone he idolises.

Shiloh doesn’t need to be honest, or even be himself, as long as he’s useful and needed. He understands social hierarchies all too well, knowing what happens to people at the bottom. It’s why he insists he isn’t “different” and loses it when Cove calls him “weird.”

He was probably one of the kids who got picked on, so he’s always scrambling to stay just above water and not sink to the bottom with the rest of the “outcasts.” MC doesn’t mean much to him, but in Lizzie’s absence, he sticks to them just as obediently, as they’re the next best thing. Cove, on the other hand, is mostly just a mild annoyance but does give Shiloh a bit of relief because, for once, he’s not the one at the bottom. And it’s not like Cove was ever going to be Lizzie’s favourite anyway.

Whenever Shiloh gets ignored, he panics and tries to wedge himself back into the conversation however he can. And as soon as Lizzie shows up again, he immediately runs back to the safety of their old dynamic.

I think that while most of him admires her at that age, there's a little part of him that resents not being like her. Not being able to be a leader and being relegated to a follower, feeling aimless when she isn't around. As a kid, he's more prone to lashing out when angered, unlike older Shiloh who acts with fake cheeriness and this strange, eery coldness when annoyed. And that's why he pulls her down with him into the water in Step 1.

If he isn't willing to voice these things because he doesn't want to rock the boat and cause issues, he expresses it more subtly.

Shiloh’s just scared—a scared little kid who figured out a way to fit in. And because that method kept working for him, through moving out of state and getting through life without Lizzie, he never really had a reason to change, even if it did a number on his very sense of self.

He got better at these tactics over time, making sure he’d always have a way to fit in, but it cost him a real personality and genuine social skills beyond the manipulation tactics he fine-tuned throughout the years. Eventually, he started taking control in small but crucial ways: He’s the one who walks away from relationships, now. Removing himself from them becomes a choice. It’s not only about leaving when people cease being useful to him but about imposing a sense of control that he felt like he lacked in childhood since he moved schools and states a few times and was likely used to being the “new kid” in different places.

He learned to hide his feelings better, so he wouldn’t blow up the way he did when he was seven. That’s why his relationship with Elizabeth—and the times he had to start fresh somewhere new—were so essential to shaping who he is: Lizzie set the standard for the kinds of relationships he’d chase, and moving around gave him fresh slates and new people to practice on.

That brings us to the serendipity moment in Our life and what we know from him in Xoxo droplets. Now, I know a lot of people haven’t actually played XOD and only have a cursory knowledge of it and the fact that a few characters from it cameo in the Our Life series! But did you know that Liz is mentioned by name in Shiloh’s route?!?

Yes! Back in 2017 we actually had Shiloh mention the events of Serendipity, which I think is a crucial scene to understand Shiloh’s character.

But before we talk about that, Let's talk Serendipity!

After Jeremy brings up “Shiloh’s famous memory” and Liz realizes he lied about not remembering her in the Step 3 prologue, Shiloh actually goes ahead and explains why he is the way he is. His explanation lines up with what we know about him from XOXO Droplets and how he acts in Step 1.

I don’t think he’s lying. Not about all of it, at least. Some of the only concrete information we have on Shiloh’s character and how he functions comes from his childhood, and I think that what he’s saying is a natural progression of that information. He only does things for his own benefit, he’s afraid of being left out and he asserts his sense of control through his relationships with others. But it’s really important to remember that Shiloh doesn’t do things without it benefiting him. While I believe in the core of what he’s saying, the fact that he’s divulging this information at all (how he’s going about it, by putting Liz and her feelings on the matter first, and framing his choices as being mistakes he made out of care for an old friend and by reiterating that they’re too good and putting himself down for pity points) instead of trying to dodge the conversation again, he’s employing a few of his known manipulation tactics: the real me strategy.

Shiloh knows that this new information is hurtful to Liz, and like in Step 1, her opinion is really the one that matters to him. He knows that there’s a limit to how much he can play dumb before they snap, and by Jeremy revealing part of his MO, there isn’t a lot he can do to smooth things over, so the least destructive path is to do exactly what Shiloh does to JB during his route in Xoxo droplets: He feeds Liz little bits of truth because he knows he’ll damage their relationship if he doesn’t. He gives her enough so she feels like she knows him better, like she’s got some new, special insight into the “real” Shiloh that nobody else has, which keeps her around. He pretends to drop his manipulative schtick because by telling her this, she has “figured him out” and there isn’t a point in trying anymore. That itself is a manipulation tactic.

But why bother? He’d be gone again by the end of the afternoon regardless of her forgiveness or not.

It comes back to what I mentioned earlier: Shiloh is the one who exerts control over his relationships. He is the one who decides when they start, and when they end, and by Liz being upset and deciding she doesn’t want to be around him, not only does he lose the control he craves, but Shiloh loses it with the person he based all of his subsequent relationships on.

In the few hours that he spent in Sunset Bird, they all fell back into their old dynamics even though it had been so long since Shiloh stepped foot in that town. He still remembers that she prefers popsicles over ice-cream sandwiches, and even though he’s better at including MC and Cove, Shiloh in a lot of ways fell back into their old routine, looking back to Liz as his leader and following into step as her sidekick. It doesn’t matter if Liz isn’t an active part of his life any longer, what would it mean to him to have those memories tainted? For that perfect template to be ruined?

But Liz stays. 

And because of that choice, we get to see the ultimate consequences of it. Shiloh isn’t a good person. As pitiful and as tragic as he might be, he simply isn’t one. And I think that can be encapsulated perfectly in how he frames his interaction with Liz to his girlfriend in Xoxo Droplets.

He glosses over what he did wrong, he casually exploits that event to garner points with his girlfriend. He ultimately doesn’t care if she takes his and Liz’s relationship the wrong way and frames it as being romantic, even if that’s far from the truth. Even with Elizabeth being miles away and already hurt by him, he still finds ways to use people and spin narratives to his advantage. 

I do believe he holds Liz in higher esteem than most (and arguments can be made that JB, the main character in XOXO droplets and his love interest, and Elizabeth share similarities in both appearance and their strong-willed, confident personalities), since she was his “idol” by his own admittance, but this is a tiny way in which he asserts his control over the situation. It doesn’t matter if Liz believes she holds the reins. If she’s older, admirable and if he still follows her around like an obedient puppy when she’s around.

By choosing to stay, she tipped the scales in his favour. He is the one in control once again, and he's able to continue his interminable cycle of holding people at arm's length while playing the part of a devoted companion.

[wesleysniperking]

if i could write well i’d write a fanfic about usopp somehow getting separated from the strawhats and landing on a island where there’s a ton of other black people there.

if he were to stay there for a few days, maybe a week, how much damage could that fix? probably a little bit. but a few people to help him with his hair, to connect him to new sides of blackness, to open up to him and let him indulge in their culture could be sooo good. especially if the culture is based in stuff like inner peace, meditation, spirit cleansing, etc etc. if he could find a sense of inner peace, a way to breathe when he’s scared, a way to stabilize it could help him with his anxiety AND his observation haki. my boy need a week of silence and saging fr. i haven’t quite figured out how the crew would react to a changed/changing usopp yet tho. and i’m totally projecting half of my trip into re-connecting with my blackness onto him(i grew up around black people during but when i was forced to move i was suddenly the only black person in my whole grade. at 16. lowk damaging stuff but my family was still black so i held strong) but everyone projects a little so it’s okay!

tips from black people, being around black people (who in usopp’s case are not trying to kill him) could be sooo goood for him

Okay but now you’ve got me spiraling in the best way. I love your idea of Usopp getting separated from the crew and ending up on an island full of Black people. Just… what that would do for him. Even if it’s just a few days or a week, that could be huge. Not just in helping him feel seen—but in letting him rest, decompress, and connect with a side of himself that he’s never been able to fully explore. Imagine him getting tips on how to care for his hair, finding people who understand him without judgment, and being welcomed into a culture that’s rooted in things like inner peace, meditation, and spirit healing? That alone could help with his anxiety and strengthen his Observation Haki. A week of silence, saging, and soft head pats—please. My boy deserves that badly.

And yeah, I definitely feel you on projecting—it’s not even projection at that point, it’s just relatability. I grew up with my Blackness reinforced by my family too, but when you're suddenly the only one in the room, that shift hits hard. That kind of isolation changes how you move, how you speak, even how you brace yourself. I think that’s exactly why Usopp, out of everyone, would be so in tune with microaggressions and subtle bias—without even trying. Because he lives with that sort of inner radar. He’s been the odd one out from day one.

And honestly, the Straw Hat crew’s reaction to a spiritually recharged Usopp would be hilarious. Nami would probably feel left out. Luffy would be like “Whoa, what’s this vibe? I like it,” but also get weirdly (adorably) jealous. Sanji and Zoro would start beefing over whether or not Usopp’s about to dip and start a new pirate crew. Meanwhile, Robin would casually drop a full dissertation on diasporic identity and Black cultural preservation, and Brook would probably start writing a song about it.

But yeah—being around Black people who aren’t trying to kill him would be such a gift for Usopp. Just safe, affirming energy. People who could say, “Yeah, brotha—you belong here.” I’d read the hell out of that fic if you ever wrote it. Or I might just have to write one with that as the blueprint! You really got me thinking, Anon.

[blueberry-ink-93]

electra & pylades hcs :>

i may or may not have gone overboard lol. theyre my bebes sue me. for @cassentia <3

right off the bat electras fave colour is purple. bc i say so

the noble pigment as it was called is an extrememly expensive dye to make and fabric to buy, so it represents to her something thats well within her grasp but just out of reach.

anyways purple <3

pylades is the first to notice aha

now purple wildflowers instantly bring his beloved to mind :3

neither of them can cook to save their lives lmao

electra being somewhat used to going for long periods without eating (for whatever reason) and overall forgetting even after her marriage that food is like. a necessity. she forgor

when asked what her favourite dishes or snacks are she just shrugs. she really doesnt know, shes never once stopped to consider it. shes been surviving for so long she no longer remembers what it means to like something just because

this of course simply doesnt do, so pylades (very discreetly) starts introducing and offering her stuff from time to time, old and new, to see if she takes any preference.

its a quiet and very slow process but she heals.

she prefers cheeses and fruits to cooked dishes usually

tis just easier and less mess and fuss. so practical as always

--

electra and pylades are on two oppsite ends of a spectrum, but at the same time theyre cut from the same cloth, so its a really interesting dynamic to see play out

theyre either harmoniously in tune or at complete odds lol

one example is how they dealt with the years of isolation

pylades in my mind grew up with an emotionally unavailable mother (after the loss of her second child, astydameia, in infancy)

he had imaginary friends and made up stories to pass the time when he was alone. sometimes he played in his fathers court while they held meetings, other times he listend and tried to understand what they were discussing. he managed to make the best of it and emerge mostly whole. he sure as hell doesnt show otherwise

electra however not only was in an abusive household later on, but even before iphigenia was sacrificed she and her siblings werent really seen, she grew up learning to stay in the shadows

if she couldnt earn her mothers love she could at least avoid her wrath. and so my darling spent years just. dissociating. letting herself go piece by piece. waiting the sweet release of death that had claimed her beloveds before her (iphigenia and orestes)

--

their marriage to me is something of a deal, not in a transaction way, but more of an unspoken agreement? electra is marrying for safety, stability, status etc as per the norms of the time, and who better and more trustworthy than pylades?

the engagement is relatively quick, after orestes' judgement, happy marriage to hermione, and claiming the throne of mycenae (and argos?? idk the geopolitics doesnt make sense to me hgfds)

strophius is soso happy to see his boi (hes so real for that) and is not a little tickled to see hes brought home a wife aha

its all good natured teasing lol strophius is very dad shaped. hes very dad and electra finds some solace in him as a father figure

its hilarious to see them so professional almost with each other, newlyweds are usually either fidgety or flustered around one another. these two? they sound like diplomatic envoys lmao

they do loosen up a little. from court members to comrades XD

and hoo boi when they finally get to that stage? yall are not prepared for how *deeply* unserious they are

--

pylades is very english major core to me lol, he keeps journals and writes all sorts of stuff (like stories his imaginary friends would tell him that hed make up etc) he loves poetry and is a very good orator, capable of delivering moving speeches and overall get along with the people. we love an articulate and eloquent king

electras strengths are much quieter and calculated; quick thinking and brilliant with numbers. she loves counting and recounting things, making lists and going over them. knowing things gives her comfort and she exercises that over what little she has control over

they rule and work together each in the aspects they excel at, pylades as king has a court to rule and the affairs of his subjects to care for (which happens to be his forte), electra however prefers to oversee the stores and finances and see to their corresponding paperwork (she LOVES papertrails lol) etc.

her experience in diplomacy comes with years of vigilance and observation from the sidelines (akdjjewks :')) and pylades being the silver tongued speaker he is they are *the* power couple ever >:3

--

slightly more whimsical stuff now lol

spreading my gentle giant pylades agenda muehehehe

at just under 2m he literally towers over people. he is also built like a castle turret lol. more of him to hug its amazing trust.

electra and orestes are both 1.7m lol (hermione is tol at 1.9m) hehe

anyhows that one polar bear cub meme and its mama in the shadows? exactly

pylades is very outwardly friendly, he taught himselt to appear unassuming and unarmed (as much as a beast of a man can lol) and to be written off as non threatening, but he knows no one is to be trusted, that family can and will turn on you, and that the walls have ears. for a social and amicable fellow hes very very closed off

slight tangent but strophius means 'slippery fellow and twister' and it made me consider him as a parallel of sorts to ody. (this carries mostly hilarious connotations to me but thats an essay for another time)

pylades is his fathers son, albeit in his own way. from his mother who found solace in her marriage only to have it take from her as well (to me thats her share of the family curse) his good looks.

actually anaxibia is pretty fun to work with (sadly) bc we got nothin for my girl, but theres a naiad of the same name and i fully plan on exploiting the fact lol. anyway

after his baby sisters death life at home just wasnt the same anymore. time cant afford to stop for ones mourning so life moved on as it so often does, and she just drifted away.

i saw something on pinterest today to the efffect of motherless mamas boy. and yeah.

aha did i say whimsical i meant bone aching angst lol. heres more

electra my darling

as you may know she lived a portion of her life as a slave would under her mothers tyrannical rule, regardless if she was made to work or just effectively imprisoned in her own home, its no surprise that its done a number on her health, compounded by the years of grief over her sister & brother she has repressed emotions and trauma to work through that shed rather not. #relatable

all this to say codependent pylectra ftw >:3 bc i like my fave couples to be a little (quite) unhealthy lol <3

that said miss maam has a lot to come to terms with and unlearn and accept and let go of and grieve and love and forgive and-

should i write this omg

anyways electra looks like cly the most out of her siblings (to me. and orestes resembles agamemnon. ooh i need to draw a family tree) which is fun. she is her fathers daughter (and fave hehe) this is my emotional support hc none of u can take this away from me

grief grief grief so much grief. and anger. rightfully so. all hidden away and every day threatening to burst forth and make her do something she truly regrets. this is a big fear of hers

she feels intensely, pylades little if at all. the emotions written on their faces cant be further from whats so clearly engraved in their hearts. its *fascinating* yall have no idea like im losing my mind as we speak lol.

they both hate olives. eugh

--

whimsy fr this time:

electra hates banana milk. pylades like a heathen loves the stuff

she loves nibbling on cheeses and fruits a la remy from that scene lol. sharp cheeder and a grape. softer brie and a blackberry. mmm

shes a salty over sweet gal. pylades has a sweet tooth to ensure the next generation of tooth fairies live comfortably lmao

they go on walks after lunch. no one talks. sometimes they hold hands. its a ritual. something practiced. something safe. just them

golden retriever and black cat? nope st. bernard and orange cat

i will fight to the death on this hill lmao

like i mentioned somewhere neither can cook for shit lol so for a long time kitchen time is bonding time, they both figure out what they fancy eating for the day and shenanigans ensue.

im serious the first couple weeks coffee would find its way to the ceiling. they were making lasagna

pylades finds great joy in making bread its therapeutic and they make all their loaves at home now.

i was going to say something that would have put me on a list somewhere lol so i shall hold my silence

anyway he also finds his way around pickles and preserves. the kitchen is so fun you guys. he makes potions and stuff

electra takes up gardening :D

chilling amongst the flowers and greens is also therapeutic. now they have fresh bread and produce :]

theyre winning at life omg. oh to have what they have

fresh flowers every other day now decorate the house, some are dried and made into arts others are preserved (hermione would be the artsiest of the bunch i think, from pottery to epoxy resin)

TEA PARTIES. nuff said

thats about all i have for now lol i need to go back to studying. hope yall enjoyed and pls feel free to shoot ur hcs and stuff my way :DDD

[hottiehiei]

- Slow burn romance with Hiei PART TWO

After months of mutual attraction, Hiei will ultimately confess— out of anger.

gender neutral. sfw. fluff. angst. (also, cliff hanger bc i literally blanked)

PART 1 is not required for this, but I highly recommend reading for more fluff ! <3

✧༺✧༻✧༺✧༻✧༺✧༻✧༺✧༻✧༺✧༻

𓆩⟡𓆪 After Hiei finally realizes he is utterly smitten, he finds himself stuck in a weird predicament. He's kind of like, "Okay, what now?"

𓆩⟡𓆪 At times, he often wonders why you aren’t intimidated by his cold demeanor. What did you see in him that others didn’t? Or rather, what did he see in you that made him so attached? Trying to put all the pieces together only made him think of you more, and he can’t seem to come up with any sensible answers. It was an insufferable cycle.

𓆩⟡𓆪 Most people would give up and accept their fate. Not Hiei. He won’t welcome these feelings with open arms. No, he’d rather fight and conquer!

𓆩⟡𓆪 But….every time you greet him with a smile or wave him goodbye, he feels content. Such an ordinary interaction would make his sour mood disappear. It didn’t matter if he remained silent in response. You were persistent, unmoved by his rudeness. Were you able to tell that he actually liked the attention? He hoped not.

𓆩⟡𓆪 Hiei naturally gravitates towards you, oddly feeling the need to stay close. His Jagan Eye can easily keep track of your whereabouts, but he prefers close proximity. He basks in the feeling of your body heat. Dare he say it was therapeutic. With little effort, he is in tune with every part of you.

𓆩⟡𓆪 Whenever you’re engaged in conversation, he picks up little details of your daily life (another perk of staying close by). Don’t be too flattered, though. He’s still searching for something that’ll make him dislike you, even if he fails every time.

𓆩⟡𓆪 Hiei is a wild card. Just as you begin to think he feels nothing for you, he does something unexpected. One night, you accidentally found yourself separated from the group while on a mission. It was rather chilly, and you were shivering from the harsh winds. Hiei randomly showed up beside you, tossing his cloak over your head. “I can hear your teeth chattering from miles away. Don’t you humans know how to check the weather?”

𓆩⟡𓆪 No matter how unconcerned he appears to be, Hiei is always watching out for you. With his fast reflexes, he prevents you from losing your balance before you can even stumble over your feet or bump into something. He usually grabs your forearm or sleeve to stabilize you. The physical contact sends sparks between you two, but neither of you comment on it. His hand feels strangely warm after touching you. He can’t even bring himself to tease or scold you for nearly falling.

𓆩⟡𓆪 As mentioned, Hiei can be unpredictable. The romantic pinning is stronger than ever, but he’s still annoyed by it. For someone who has never experienced love before, he is taking it pretty hard. His feelings have festered to the point of frustration, and he feels vulnerable.

𓆩⟡𓆪 Hiei is so fed up with the back and forth that he ultimately decides to ignore you for good. Out of nowhere, he started acting like you didn’t exist. He put zero effort into holding a conversation, and sometimes, he was just plain rude, telling you to go away or walking right past you.

𓆩⟡𓆪 Kurama notices the awkward tension and tries to bring it up, but Hiei dismisses his concerns immediately. He figured that if he kept his distance, he would eventually forget about you. Or at least, that’s what he told himself. Acknowledging his feelings would make them real, and that’s the last thing he wanted.

𓆩⟡𓆪 While Hiei did all of this to protect himself, you’re left hurt by the abrupt change. He treats most people rudely, but you thought he at least tolerated you to some extent. Now, he couldn’t even be bothered to spare you a passing glance. You decided to confront him one day when you two were conveniently left alone (thank Kurama)

𓆩⟡𓆪 Initially, he was hostile, glaring at your figure. “If you truly believe there’s something between us, you’re sadly mistaken.” His words cut deep. He never spoke to you so harshly, but he sounded completely serious.

𓆩⟡𓆪 When you mentioned how much pain he caused you, it surprised him. He assumed he loved you far more than you could ever love him. But as you continued to vent, voice cracking and tears spilling, Hiei was incredibly confused. It wasn’t his intention to hurt you. He simply wanted to detach himself from you and return to his normal ways.

𓆩⟡𓆪 Witnessing your break down caused him to snap. He couldn't hold back his emotions any longer, and everything came out at once.

“You think I wanted to fall for you, a foolish human who can’t even tell when someone cares for them?”

“Your face is constantly invading my thoughts. I can’t even focus on anything else, but you’re the one crying? Ridiculous.”

“Just being away from you torments me. You couldn’t possibly understand. I’m doing this for my own sake.”

“Stop looking at me like that…”

✧༺✧༻✧༺✧༻✧༺✧༻✧༺✧༻✧༺✧༻

extra:

Even after this intense confession, Hiei still avoids you like the plague.

[seraphtrevs]

Hi!

Idk if anyone asked this before, but I really wanna know you opinion on Lalo's tattoo? I thought why they kept it? Is it just because it looks cool or Is it because it fits Lalo? Or no reason behind it all?

I think meaning fits Lalo quite well, but dying to know what do you think!

So this has been sitting in my inbox for months - sorry! 😅 I decided this ask was a great excuse to finally read the Tao Te Ching, which I'd been meaning to do for a long time, so I did that, and then I realized that it will probably take a lifetime to understand it, and maybe it should be less than a lifetime before I answered this ask.

Anyway. I think the real reason they didn't conceal the tattoo was because that would take time and effort better spent elsewhere. It's complete in character for a cartel operative to have a tattoo, so why bother to cover it up?

But that's a boring answer, and I think we can have more fun with it. Because I think you can make a case for this being Lalo's tattoo, not just Tony's. Come, take my hand, and let us indulge in some headcanons~

So let's take a look at it: (I found this on pinterest here, but no artist was credited. If anyone knows who it is, lmk!) ETA - art is by Artmetica - ty @reztruck!

The most prominent aspect is the yin-yang symbol. When he holds his arm palm up, it's staring him straight in the face. That makes it easy for him to look at, maybe as a reminder. So why would Lalo, violent cartel don, get a tattoo of a yin-yang?

My headcanon is that Lalo is a reader. He canonically only gets a couple hours of sleep a night (like - this is literally impossible, but he's kind of an impossible person. maybe it's really a couple more, but let's just say that he gets by on much less sleep than the average joe.) So what's he doing with all that time? There's only so much slithering around you can do in the dead of night. We know he likes to use his quiet time to think, and what better way to come up with stuff to think about than to read?

He's a curious and intelligent person - I'm sure he likes to read on a wide variety of subjects. Maybe when he was a young man, he had some questions about the meaning of it all and went looking for it in books. And maybe he came across a copy of the Tao Te Ching and took it to heart. (Well, not all of it - he is, after all, a violent drug dealer who kills without remorse lol)

I've always attributed Lalo's lack of fear to his psychopathy, which it is for the most part. But psychopathy doesn't entirely explain him, does it? Psychopaths aren't known for their emotional stability, but Lalo rarely loses his cool and seems in a good mood most of the time. It's not that he doesn't ever lose his temper, but he's able to calm down quickly. He's such a go-with-the-flow guy that he even laughed off his own death.

Wu wei is an important concept in Taoism. It's active non-action, or effortless action - instead of forcing your will on the universe, be in tune with it. Go with the flow. And that's pretty much how Lalo operates. Unlike Gus, who has many meticulous plots and never leaves anything up to chance, Lalo jumps in head first and figures things out as he goes. This makes him a good detective - he goes where his leads take him (all the way to Germany sometimes). It also means he's able to adapt quickly to changing circumstances.

For example, when he's spying on the chicken farm in 4x10, he springs into action when he realizes something's up and is almost able to catch Werner. When his house comes under fire in the middle of the night in 5x10, he immediately switches gears and is able to beat a team of assassins single-handedly by going with the flow, effortlessly taking every opportunity as it arises (using the frying pan of hot oil to blind an attacker, using Ciro's body as a shield, doubling back on his attackers to take them by surprise, etc.) When he learns that Gus bugged the phone at the nursing home, he loses his shit for a minute, pulls himself together, and then spots a cockroach, thinks of Jimmy, and he's off on a completely new path, wasting no time second-guessing himself. There's no reason to get too worked up when things don't go your way, because a new way is bound to open itself up to you if you pay attention.

(That's not to say he never plans - for example, he set up his body double in case he ever needed to fake his death. But I think that was probably also a product of wu wei - by random chance he meets a guy who looks a lot like him, and so he thinks "hey this could be useful later.")

So yeah, I definitely think this could be Lalo's tattoo, not just Tony's! It actually explains a lot about his approach to life.

[posttexasstressdisorder]

One of the consequences of all this four-monitor silliness is that I decided to move the components around and dust them off. I hadn’t fired up my Heathkit AJ-11 AM/FM tube tuner in forever, because I thought it had finally died when I tried to use it last. I jostled things around this afternoon, trying to get things moved, it’s sitting in a tight space next to the HiFi VCR, which I wanted to get the dust off of.

On a whim I plugged the Heathkit back into the power strip, and hooked an RCA cable up to the old Realistic input selector, which I have goin’ to the good old Realistic mixer (dependable backups, since my Dynaco PAS-3X Preamp is inoperable for the forseeable future). The little mixer and that simple selector switch at least let me listen to music while one of my main components is off-line for...awhile.

I turned the AJ-11 on, and lo and behold , it lit up, both tuning eyes glowed green, and it was picking up my little AM station transmitter broadcasting loud and clear at 1340AM. No idea why it decided to spring back to life again, but cool that it did. Maybe my jostling had jostled the right thing back into place? Who knows? All I know is that now I can hear my radio station through the tubes, as the gods intended.

And as another little lagniappe, as it were, I have a very large and heavy, and evidently very exclusively made in Berkeley back when thing, a black case with a cast aluminum front panel, with a sine wave cut in it, and a blue LED, called a “Z-Stabilizer Line Conditioner”, which is essentially a huge line voltage “smoother-outer”, and a regulator to keep the voltage as dead-on as possible. I always thought the Dynaco sounded better when it was plugged into that thing. The only indicator it’s working was a bright blue LED, which as far as I knew went out awhile back. Like years back.

So I am re-routing wires and tucking things into place like a good hobbit and I figure what the hell I’ll plug it in and see what’s up and lo and behold, the LED on the front glowed bright blue again.

Both of these things happened this afternoon. The Heathkit/Daystrom Tuner sprung back to life, seemingly miraculously, because I remember it being deader than a doornail. I must have jostled something that made it remember itself.

And the blue LED coming back on, after years of it being out.

It's definitely cool, but kinda...disconcerting.

Is this just a bit of electronic good luck?

Or are these artifacts from that other timeline we all want to get back to so desperately?

At any rate, I have nearly all my tubes back in commission and glowin'. Hallelujah. At least I can sit and watch the tubes on the ST70 glow along with the dash-lights on the Heathkit.

I have to admit that my PAS-3X has me stymied at the moment. Actually it's more intimidated. It's all simple soldering, nothing incredibly exotic, just there will be a LOT of it. And a lot of matching of wires, measuring of wires, etc.

While I pulled the Realistic mixer out to take up the slack, and I want to get going on the final bit of work I need to do on the PAS, I'm a bit anxious to tackle it. And it's one of those things that I can't trust anybody else to do, and it's completely up to me.

That three-wafer selector switch got broken because my hand slipped while I was soldering something else. There are like 30 solder connections on those three very delicate phenolic wafers...I have to make sure the right ones get to the right RCA jacks on the back.

I've got the original build manual, but still...it's a mother of a thing to have to do, and having to do it because of my own carelessness in not realizing how close to the switch my hand was, adds an extra layer of angst to it.

I've got kiddo duty tomorrow and Friday nights, and then dinner on Saturday, but back here Saturday night. At least I've got my system patched back together enough to keep going until the PAS is back in order.

Interesting thing about the Realistic mixer is there is no EQ, no tone controls, no "loudness' control like the PAS has, and even so I can't push the output volume up over 1 or 2 before it's too loud for the building. The output signal is so clean and "live", going straight into the ST70, it's able to pump the sound out with the volume slider almost completely off. The ST70 is still one of the best power amps ever made. The fact that it was sold in its day in kit form for $99 is kinda crazy. Literally the "Hi-Fi Tube Sound for Everyman" of amps.

[planeswalker-chronicles]

Episode 1: "The Strange Traveller" - Scene 3

[ BACK ]

Astarion’s ears pricked subtly at the noise above the main floor of the Elfsong—not loud, but distinct enough to rise over the low thrum of music and murmuring conversation. A voice. That odd, flat cadence again. Muttering, pacing.

He turned slightly in his seat, eyes flicking toward the ceiling. Most wouldn’t have caught it. Most wouldn’t care.

But Astarion wasn’t most people. He would creep up the stairs and eavesdrop on the Wanderer’s musings.

“I need to just figure out the schematics for the motherboard again, and I’ll be able to make my way back… No, but the trip almost fried the wrist teleporter—”

“I need an arcane flow stabilizer… Damn it, but building one to fit it would be impossible. I need to upscale it. I need to create a, um… a Dimensional Transport Console.”

The Wanderer sighed, “Great. More materials and more work to be done…”

Silently, he stepped onto the landing just beyond the guest room doors, pausing only when he caught the scent of charcoal and heard the muttered phrase: “Dimensional Transport Console.”

That smile crept back onto his face again—sharp, feline, intrigued.

Oh yes.

This “Wanderer” was going to be very fun.

The Wanderer said to himself, looking at the scrawlings and graphs, "Shit. Maybe I should take that guy's offer and get him to help me find materials. I need to get back before everything back home goes to hell."

Outside the door, Astarion froze—just for a moment—as he heard the words slip from the young man’s lips. “Everything back home goes to hell.” There it was again: that thread of desperation beneath the sarcasm, the tiredness that no amount of bravado could cover.

Astarion’s expression shifted slightly. Not pity—he wasn’t that sentimental. But curiosity, sharpened now by something a little closer to concern.

Another deep sigh left him, heavy and worn.

“Okay, fine. You win, weirdo vampire man. You’re hired—pending your ability not to stab me or betray me.”

He muttered the last part with a half-hearted scowl, brushing a bit of charcoal from his knee.

Just then—creeeak.

A loose floorboard outside his door. Very faint. But the young human’s ears had long since adjusted to listening for the wrong kinds of sounds. He tensed. Quietly reached for a tool beside him—blunt, metallic, possibly a screwdriver.

Astarion, sensing the shift, chuckled just loud enough to be heard through the door.

“Well now, I was going to wait until morning to follow up on our little arrangement, but you’re making it so hard to stay away…”

A pause.

“May I come in, or should I brace for a projectile?”

The Wanderer groaned, he shuffled toward the door with begrudging acceptance, “It’s open, vampire.”

He open the door to reveal his charcoal scratchings on the walls and piles of books and parchments. The Wanderer said, 

"So, since you've gotten this far, I assume you have questions. Many questions. As you can probably deduce, I am not of this world -far from it."

Astarion stepped inside with the grace of a cat trespassing somewhere it absolutely believed it belonged. His crimson eyes flicked to the charcoal-scrawled walls, the mess of diagrams and graphs, the layers of parchment spilling off the desk.

He let out a soft, amused breath.

“Well, this is certainly more charming than I imagined. You've turned your room into the inside of a mad wizard’s skull.”

He walked along the wall slowly, letting his fingers hover just shy of the sketches. Schematics, not arcane runes. Diagrams of things with labels he didn’t recognize—some in a language he couldn't even identify.

Then his gaze returned to the stranger.

“Not of this world,” he echoed, tilting his head with theatrical curiosity.

“Yes, I had gathered that much somewhere between your ridiculous wrist device and the fact you said motherboard like it wasn’t complete gibberish.”

He smiled—not mocking, but keen. Hungry for truth.

[ Stay Tuned for Episode 2! Hope you liked this first episode of the Planeswalker Chronicles. ]

[ejzah]

A/N: A little Deeks angst for you. Set early season 8.

***

The Bucket’s Full

Deeks hurried into the mission, a cup of cold, leftover coffee from last night clutched in one hand, his phone in the other as he forwarded some of Kensi’s latest medical paperwork to the VA. If he thought about it too hard, the sheer cost of Kensi’s treatment made him nauseous, so now he quickly reviewed the listed services and amounts and then sent them on.

This morning’s visit had not gone particularly well; while the doctor’s reassured them both that Kensi was making progress and actually improving more quickly than anticipated, she struggled with everything she still couldn’t do.

It had all started out well enough with Deeks managing to sneak in early enough to surprise Kensi when she woke up. Their good morning kiss had quickly devolved into full-on making out, and for a few minutes, they tuned out everything but each other. Until a nursing assistant arrived to announce Kensi needed to change for her first therapy appointment of the day.

Kensi had insisted on dressing as much as she could on her own. Deeks could only standby, watching her get more and more frustrated between the lack of mobility in her left hand an minimal sensation in her right. It was somewhere around her twentieth attempt to pull on a sock on that she growled and swiped her arm across her nearby tray, breaking into angry tears.

At least she’d let him comfort her this time, but he’d gotten the text from Nell about an active case before Kensi fully settled down.

It sucked on so many levels.

Tossing his bag on his desk chair, he drank the rest of his stale coffee, and sat down, letting out an exhausted sigh. He just wanted to sleep, though he never could once he actually got in bed.

“Deeks, glad you’re here,” Callen said, jogging down the stairs with Sam at his side.

Deeks rubbed his palms over his eyes, blinking back the gritty feeling. “Morning to you too.”

As they joined him in the bullpen, Sam squeezed Deeks’ shoulder before taking his own seat.

“We need you to call LAPD and get them to send a couple units over to parole near our crime scene.”

“Wait, what crime scene?” Deeks asked, holding up a hand. “You know LAPD isn’t just going to lend us resources without details.”

“Well, maybe if you weren’t late, you’d know about our case,” Callen pointed out. Normally, Deeks would have ignored the gentle ribbing. Today though, he didn’t have the patience for it and snapped back.

“I was with Kensi. Honestly, you’re lucky I’m here at all.”

“I take it it was a rough morning,” Sam guessed.

“Oh no, life on the rehabilitation unit is delightful for a 32 year old woman recovering from significant spinal injuries.”

“Ok,” Callen said slowly.

Even with his hand currently covering his face, Deeks knew Callen was sharing one of those annoying looks that questioned his mental stability.

“I’m sorry,” he sighed. “I’m running on approximately three hours of sleep and two day old coffee, so I’m not exactly my usual cheerful self.”

“We understand,” Sam told him, speaking for both himself and Callen. “Why don’t you take half an hour, get yourself together, and Nell will fill you in after that.”

“What about LAPD?” The thought of lying down for a few minutes sounded blissful, but he couldn’t exactly shirk his responsibilities.

“We’ll figure it out.”

“Thanks, man.”

As Deeks slowly got up, Sam rested his hand on the back of Deeks’ neck, his touch solid and comforting. It made him feel dangerously close to tears himself.

“It’s going to be ok,” Sam said, emphasizing the words with a squeeze. Deeks managed a faint quirk of his lips before shrugging out from under Sam’s hand, and shuffling towards the hall.

He probably wouldn’t end up sleeping at all, but the chance for a few minutes without any responsibility sounded wonderful.

[constantfragmentation]

How can Silco be a total shitbag and being sweet with Jinx.

Read your new chpater of Iron and Glass and I was dead when Sevika interrupted and Jinx was all 'get out, we're bonding'. I love that you wrote them as disliking each other like in the show.

'you're tuning into a swizzlestick' omg. dead. I can see Jinx looking out for her new 'dad'. You need to eat more you hardcore drinking chimney.

Will there be a young Silco pov too? Or just older SIlco?

One thing I love about Jinx is she has zero filter. I can total see her (as she latches onto the only person giving her stability and care, ie Silco) looking out for him. She makes him gifts which we see in his office. He obviously cherishes them.

I like the idea of Older!Silco going full dad/supervisor mode with JInx. He encourages her, he is self aware that taking Jinx in doesn't make him look great *cough* Vander *cough* (esp with Sevika).

This chapter takes place a couple years after Vander's death. He's had time with Jinx. He's dealt with some of her PTSD, etc. He is more paternal with her in private so she feels comfortable with him as a father figure, like bringing him dinner. Jinx is comfortable enough to spar with Sevika in his presence.

"Am I interrupting?"

"Yes."

That is so Jinx to me. As is calling Silco too skinny. I love her brutal honesty.

I wanted to introduce Older!Silco pov. He's not blindsided (again pure Silco being 2 steps ahead) and wants to know about Zaun's new visitors he may have business dealings with.

However, there is a surprise and he's not sure how much Sevika knows from their past. He's still being guarded and maybe telling people what he thinks they should hear. That plays out later.

I'm finishing up Y!Silco pov. I felt this was an intro into Silco looking back to his first meeting with Reader and does explain more things before everything starts to fall apart. Especially, before they meet again in current time (S1 Older Silco).

The next chapter is pure older brother Silco and I love it. Y!Reader is scrappy and doesn't take shit from men and Silco LOVES to press her buttons.

I want readers to see how Reader came to be as she is now. How she started out, fell for Silco and how it all went to hell.

Silco IS selfish in many ways. He also protects himself from difficult emotions he doesn't want to deal with. Hence why he's known for taking lovers instead of meaningful relationships (except Vander of course).

One of Silco's faults is seeing things as black and white in his youth.

I'm LOVING the interaction of Y!Silco and Y!Reader in the next pov chapter. I love their banter and Silco getting under her skin. It's playful and I love it.

It will be a rollercoaster of emotions. Trust, betrayal, love, suspicions, lies... I know how this story ends and I love it. I'll be blending in a lot of things from S1 into this.

[chemicallady]

Perfect Pitch

Prologue

A/N: This is just the introduction chapter. If you will be invested in this idea I'll write the entire FF!

Couple: Noah Sebastian x Reader (in which reader is a talented musician and the new member of Bad Omens. This is an Alternative Universe in which the guys decide to pick up someone to fill in for Vincent.)

Content Warning: this FF will include describing different delicate subjects like states of anxiety, depression, gender violence ( bad place, the industry, for a girl) and possible suicidal thought. Be careful if you feel exposed by one or more of this topics. Feel free to write me in PM about anything ♡ Since the main characters of this story are real people, I want to underline that this is the idea I have of them and not the reality since I don't know Bad Omens. I don't want to be disrespectful in any way because I have tons of respect for the guys and their job. I also don't want to dig in their private lives or whatsoever aside the things they reveal by themselves on interviews of post on social, present and past.

Summary:  reader has always wanted to be a musician her entire life. She pictures herself as first chair in a majestic orchestra, but thanks to her soft spot for metalcore, destiny is leading her somewhere special.

....

◇◇◇

The first time you have seen Noah Seabastian, you were in the pit. Vans Warped tour 2017, a fucking hot texan day. You had never heard about Bad Omens before, but they had such an incredible energy on stage. Good enough to surf crowding in front of the barricades to look closer. The bass guitar player smiked at you when he noticed that your shirt was lifted by the continued movement of hands all over your body. In the moment the security put your ass back to the ground you had found a pair of deep brown eyes on you. The singer was asking the crowd to sing along the main course but you had no idea about the lyrics so you simply smirked, lifting all way your tshit and unreveal the bra.

And.... thats it.

Rock'n'roll and a couple of extra beer made you brave.

Nothing less, nothing more.

No hot stories as a groupie walking her way to a bus tour or anything else. Just a glaze, one among millions.

At the end of that hot summer you started to looking for a job after you graduated at Julliard in NYC. It was the best time of your life. You have always been a talented violinist since you were 5. The prodigy from a very small town, ready to astonish New York.

But it never happened.

Always third chair.

Moving around the country as a ball in an arcade grew you tired after 6 months. The low salaries, the necessity of having a home for more than six weeks....

Settle down. Adopt a cat.

You wanted some stability.

So you started to work as a waitress. You have no idea of how you ended again in texas, but life in here is simpler compared with NYC.

Almost a year had passed when you met Shane and Zac. Summer was running out fast when the Oh Sleepers played in the small pub you were working. A couple of words after and a decent amount of good luck brought the singer to share with you an important information.

《 if you can play the bass, I know a band is looking for someone to fill in.》

You can play bass. You can actually play five instrument and sing. This is your only talent. Music. Feeling it. Being able to figure the notes in your head just listening at them once.

The ability of discover a F# when a pillow fall from the sofa on the ground. The ritmic dissonance of a A and a G in your steps while you walk home drunk.

The perfect pitch.

At least, you could work as a music engineer.

Shane was intrigued by the way you tuned a guitar whitout flicking before their show and from your musical curricula. It is far more than it should be in the industry. But he also saw something in you. How much you have work your way though the mud and sweat to end up in a pub, verbaly molested by creepy guys on daily basis.

Such a waste of rare talent.

《 try your luck. That's is his phone number. See if he still wants a replacement or if he's fine with is guitarrist as bass player. I lost track over their decisions, but their good friends of me. The singer slays on stage》

You picked up that piece of paper with a bit of concern. For this guy privacy in a first place but also for you. You were dreaming about orchestras, beautiful dresses with long sleeves to cover your tattoos.... but you have always wanted to be a rockstar.

A queen.

And you have never wanted to be that broke.

So... Why not?

《 alright. Thanks man. Just... what's the name of this guy?》

《 noah. Noah sebastian》.

***

I chose the Oh Sleeper to introduce bad omens to the reader because I've always find this video hilarious. Feel free to give me your opinion about this prologue!

[officialleehadan]

Estimated Arrival

HGE – Blackbird

+++

The Downdraft was a heavy-bodied cargo ship, that the crew had modified heavily over her many years in space. She wasn’t a standard ship, and that, it turned out, was the secret advantage of her captain against those who were trying to board.

“First lock is holding,” Marcus said after a moment of watching the screen, which was now still of movement while the attacking ship tried to figure out what just happened. The violent depressurization should have sent the ships rolling, but it seemed Ikaroa had planned for that too, as stabilizers kicked into keep the ship from spinning wildly. “Second lock is loaded.”

“Let’s see if they run at us again,” Ikaroa said grimly as the whole crew took the respite to reload, and to pass water around to everyone. Maggie took a long drink and blessed the Downdraft’s crew for being so efficient, and sadly practiced, at repelling boarders from their ship. Unlike the Blackbird, which was not equipped for a fight, the Downdraft was very clearly ready to go down swinging. “Might be they get more careful now that they know we have a few tricks up our sleeves.”

“Does that airlock open from the other side?” Maggie asked once she was reloaded and ready to keep fighting. “Can they vent us out?”

“They can try, but the last lock in the sequence is automatic, in case one of the earlier ones fails,” Marcus assured her. He leaned back against the wall, but kept his eyes on the camera, ready for the next attempt to crack their defenses. “Any way you can get us a time of arrival on backup? We can hold out, but not for that long. If they have something heavy enough to crack us, we’re in trouble.”

“They very likely do,” Viktoria Tatiana shared. Like Maggie, she was armed, but she was taking the time to hydrate and center herself before the fighting resumed. “Magdalene, try to raise your brother on the comms. We may not have much time.”

There was very little Maggie wanted to do less than leave others to hold the line while she was safely in the cockpit, but she had a job to do. More importantly, she was the only one with the authorizations to actually do that job.

“We’ll be okay,” Marcus said when he saw her hesitating. “Whatever else, they don’t’ want to blow that lock until they’re sure they won’t drop you when they do it, right?”

“We don’t know that.”

“We know we need help. You’re our best shot.”

Maggie gritted her teeth, but he was right, and she knew it. Rather than argue, she leaned over and pressed a kiss to his cheek. He stared at her and pressed his fingers to the place she kissed with a stunned expression on his handsome face.

“Don’t die,” she told him firmly. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

Before he could reply, she handed her blaster to her mother, who traded nods with her but didn’t take her eyes off the airlock, and made for the comm in the cockpit.

The comm was temperamental. Maggie thumped it hard on one side, as she had the first time she used it. It crackled once, but didn’t connect until she hit it again, and tuned it to a rarely-used military frequency that was difficult to jam. More importantly, it was one the Carriers and Continental destroyers all monitored in case of an unexpected attack.

It took several long minutes, but finally here was the faint click as the comm connected.

“This is Destroyer Africa.” The comms director replied with the cool efficiency that comms agents always did. “Authorization.”

“Imperial Authorization, Lucia Therese Magdalene,” Maggie said shortly and didn’t wait for the comms director to reply. He would transmit whatever she said as she said it. “I am aboard the Downdraft, under attack by an unknown force that has Jump-grabbed us, and require immediate assistance.”

“We have your emergency beacon on our scans.” It was a new voice. Female this time. Presumably, the captain of the ship. “This is Captain-Commander Richal. We are inbound on your coordinates, Your Imperial Highness.”

“What’s your arrival time?” Maggie heard and muttered a curse when she head something that sounded distinctly like an attempt to get through the airlock. There was another explosion, and the ship shuddered. “Time is short.”

“Twelve minutes.”

“Is anyone else closer?”

“No, Ma’am.”

It was unprofessional, but Maggie couldn’t hold back a curse, and spared a glance over her shoulder. She couldn’t see anything, and didn’t hear shooting, but it wouldn’t be long. “Can you cut any time off that arrival?”

“Engines are at top burn already.” The Captain-Commander was apologetic, and Maggie tried hard not to resent it. She didn’t need an apology, she needed heavily-armed backup. “Carrier Pacifica is en-route to you and is the next-fastest after us. Twenty minutes.”

“We’ll try to hold out,” Maggie said and did her best not to curse more, even though it might make her feel better. Officials tended to get nervous when a member of the Imperial family was cursing. “Notify your crew that every member of the Downdraft is classified as a protected individual and should be given every protection upon your arrival, regardless of the situation.”

That part wasn’t required, but the Richal couldn’t do anything to speed her ship, and neither could Maggie. What Maggie could do was make sure that the Downdraft’s crew was protected. They were risking their lives and their ship to keep her and her mother alive. It was the least she could offer in return.

“The order is already given, Ma’am,” Captain Richal promised her with military precision. “They and their ship will be treated with the utmost care.”

“We will need to be tractored into a landing bay. Our airlock is damaged.”

“I will see to it personally.”

“And make sure to tag our attackers, in case they bolt before capture. I imagine His Majesty would like to have a personal conversation with them.”

“With pleasure, Ma’am.” Now, Maggie heard the smile in the captain’s voice even if she couldn’t hear it. “We’re on our way. Just hold out a little longer.”

“I’ll do my best,” Maggie said as another explosion rocked them and she grabbed for the nearest panic-handle to steady herself. “Signing out.”

With that, she flipped off the comm and headed back to the battle-front.

It would be a long twelve minutes, but if there was one thing she was good at, it was stalling for time.

+++

HGE - Blackbird: (FULL COLLECTION)

HGE - Blackbird - Volume 1

+

HGE - Blackbird V2 (For full collection, see V1)

First Lock

Estimated Arrival 

Four Minutes Left (NEW!)

+++

MASTERLIST

[starvingnarcissistmusic]

totally completely unrelated to my last message on Orchestra but any chance you could do a analysis/breakdown of We Sapient Stardust?

Alright so for the sake of not regurgitating things I've already said, I'm not going to go in depth about any of the songs in particular. I've already written loads about them on Genius so if anyone wants to know What's Up With [insert song here] they can go there. Instead, I'm gonna talk about what went into making the album as a whole.

We Sapient Stardust's """production""" began pretty much as soon as And That Means Everything finished. In fact, I'm pretty sure I had written most of Sleepless Friends before And That Means Everything even came out. After spending a whole year making an album about the past, I was really itching to write about how I felt in the present. And I felt.... bad. A friend has told me that We Sapient Stardust feels like "dealing with the condition of Being 17" and like. That's honestly exactly what it was. I was 17, limping over the high school finish line, feeling tired and sad and anxious about the future pretty much every day. The opening line of There Are Some Things I'd Rather Not Say was pretty much a summation of how I felt then. One year left till I fell apart.

Attached: Old cover idea/placeholder I had for Limbic System's Rag Doll. Was originally playing with the idea of it being part of the Burnout Series (Dysania, Anemia) but ultimately decided it didn't really fit in with those songs.

Initially, the album was a lot less existential. It was more just songs about how badly I felt, with most of them trailing off into angsty self-loathing. I had kind of made up my mind from the start that this was going to be the sad album, but at the beginning a lot of that sadness and misery was specifically centered on me. I felt really bad so I wrote a lot of songs about feeling really bad. At some point I leaned more into the existential themes, because honestly you can only spend so much of your free time writing songs about how much you don't like yourself before it feels just a little bit counter-intuitive to your mental health. Writing songs like that doesn't really feel like catharsis to me, it just feels like kicking myself while I'm down, and I didn't want my second album to feel like a thirty minute self hate session. Some artists can pull that off really well, I definitely can't.

Attached: The first demo of Sleepless Friends (at the time called Anarchist Cookbook), featuring slightly different lyrics and my (sickness afflicted) out of tune singing.

The cover started as just a test to try and make something in a collage style, I was really inspired by The Altogether's Silo EP cover art and wanted to make something in that vein. The oldest version of it on my PC I could find is from February 2nd 2024. It went through a few changes, at one point I had drawn a little figure in the sky in place of the plane, and at another point it had the album title and drawn-on stars like ATME, but eventually I just settled on using the collage as it was. It felt strong enough with to stand on its own. It was a little weird having something and knowing it would be the album cover, since for pretty much all of ATME's production I had convinced myself the cover was a placeholder.

Attached: collage album cover attempt.png, the first ever version. Kind of mostly the same, although the saturation was way down and it didn't have the outlines drawn in. These are how the photos looked when I took them, but then I realized the saturation made it look 1000% better.

The name was also a bit subject to change, as there was a lot of places I wanted to go with the album. I think at one point it was called "Songs For Scum". A few others include "Wish It Would Settle In", "Something About Drowning" (if I used this one the acronym wouldve been SAD which I think is funny), and "The Boy Who Cried Lonely". A lot of these names were made around the same time I was writing all of those self-loathing downer songs, so they were all vaguely angsty. Once I landed on We Sapient Stardust though, it was pretty much set in stone. Although, at one point there was going to be a companion EP called "Searching For Solace", filled with outtakes. I scrapped it mostly because I just didn't have enough scrapped material that I liked enough to release.

Attached: The moodboard I made for the album a month before it came out. The cat is the same one from the Blacktop Angels cover, because at the time Kafkaesque was Blacktop Angels Pt II. I didn't end up going with that though, so if I could remake it now I'd probably replace it with a dog instead. Fun fact: The cat was a stray at my high school, and my friend named it Chickpea.

Honestly between the two of them, We Sapient Stardust was a way harder album to make then And That Means Everything was, on pretty much all fronts. It's definitely my favorite between the two of them, but in my head, they're sister albums that are meant to go together. I'm incredibly proud of We Sapient Stardust, and I think I'll stay proud of it for a long time. I hope anyone who listened to it connected with it. That's really all I could hope for.

(And, as a final note, thanks to everyone who provided their voices for the group chant! That moment is probably my favorite thing I've ever made, and I couldn't have done it without them. All of their names are listed in the description of the YouTube video and in the Bandcamp page. Some of them even have their own music, so check them out!)

Anyways, hope that sufficed as enough rambling for a satisfying answer, haha

[psychics4unet]

Hi! How are you? Can I have a free reading? I'm RDKA, she/her, Libra.

My question is... what does SP (he/him) feel about me?

Thank you so much! I hope you have a great day/night!❤

Free Chakra Psychic Reading! 🌈✨

Hey RDKA! I connected to your energy to explore what SP might be feeling about you by tuning into the Heart, Solar Plexus, and Throat Chakras.

Starting with the Heart Chakra 💚, there’s a strong emotional connection from SP’s side. He feels warmth and affection towards you, like he’s genuinely drawn to your energy. There may be feelings of care and compassion that are present, but he might not fully express them openly just yet.

Moving to the Solar Plexus Chakra 💛, I sense a bit of uncertainty on SP’s part. While he’s definitely interested, he might feel unsure of how to proceed or where things could go. He could be reflecting on his own confidence and control in this situation, trying to figure out how to express what he feels without losing his sense of stability.

Lastly, the Throat Chakra 🔵 shows that communication could be a bit of a challenge for him right now. He might have some things he wants to say but is holding back, unsure how to put his emotions into words. He may struggle with expressing his true feelings for fear of being too vulnerable or misunderstood.

In summary, SP definitely has feelings for you, but there’s a sense of hesitation in fully expressing them. Give it some time, and communication may open up in a way that brings clarity to how he truly feels. 💫💖

Got questions or need some insight into your life? I'm here to help with personal psychic readings! For just $7, you can get answers to up to 7 questions! More info at:

In case anyone else here on tumblr would like a free psychic reading, Click the link and follow the instructions (I answer only to those who follow the instructions, thank you):

[whumpsical]

🎶

🎶 share a happy moment. ANY happy moment. You must have ONE.

674 words, (the song is "Can't Take My Eyes off You" by Frankie Valli btw)

contents: a little medical drugging, vaguely mentioned recent amputation, forced relationship, carewhumper, fluff af

December 2019

taglist!!! @yet-another-heathen @much-ado-about-whumping @minerscanary @softmutt444

꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷

"You've never danced?"

Jian scoffed from his seat on the couch, idly curling his fingers into the tense muscles in his right hip, wishing he could deaden every one of the touchy nerves riddling his butchered leg. Oxy did wonders, but it couldn't do everything, especially with Jian's tolerance. Mostly the drugs made Jian feel stuck at a distance inside of his skull, like the world was spinning in a slow circle around him and he couldn't reach for anything to steady himself on. At least he wasn't writhing in agony.

"Of course I've danced. Just not whatever dork-ass, ballroom-ass waltz you're picturing, old man."

Dickass Lee laughed.

"You kids' bump n' grind stuff doesn't count."

Jian rolled his eyes at that, but had no rebuttal. He watched helplessly as Dickass Lee’s wobbling figure floated across the living room, gliding between his case of records and the antique player near the window seat. He set his chosen record down and started it spinning, and Jian could only catch a glimpse of a cream colored album cover with red lettering before soft, jazzy doo-wop instrumentals began to play, and Dickass Lee turned back to face him with predatory glee in his eyes.

"You'll like this one. Come here."

Dickass Lee approached slowly, stepping in time with the gentle tempo, already swaying his shoulders to Frankie Valli's rosy voice which shimmered through the haze swirling around Jian's head.

You're just too good to be true

Can't take my eyes off you

You'd be like heaven to touch

I wanna hold you so much

Dickass Lee offered both hands to Jian, who shook his head emphatically.

"Uhh, don't think I'm up for--"

"You can lean on me, Jian, don't worry," Dickass Lee said. He untangled Jian's hands from where they were hidden beneath the blanket and took them into his own, not unkindly. "We'll go slow."

"Where've I heard that one b'fore?" Jian slurred under his breath, but allowed himself to be drawn up into Dickass Lee's arms, trusting the man with most, if not all, of his weight.

Dickass Lee held him up as steadily as he could. Drugged and woozy as Jian was, the most he could offer in terms of stability was a tight-ish grip around the man's neck. But despite the looming pain and the depression weighing down what remained of his limbs, Jian found himself almost blissfully giggling as Dickass Lee made him sway to the sentimental tune, Jian's single foot on the floor acting as a swivel point.

The tempo picked up just as they'd finally found a tenuous balance. Jian surrendered himself entirely to Dickass Lee’s whims as the man began to swing him around in earnest, even releasing Jian to float in brief moments before catching him by the hips again. Jian's laugh arose candidly, the bright easy sound of it mingling with cheery instrumentation and the rhythmic stomping and clapping of a long-dead chorus. Or maybe Frankie Valli & The Four Seasons were still around. Jian didn't have a clue, and he didn't care.

The phrase climaxed with a brassy flourish, which Dickass Lee took as an opportunity to drop Jian into an easy dip, one hand supporting Jian's lower back while the other held his hand, leaving Jian breathless and dizzy as he stared up at him.

A stray muscle in Jian's right thigh suddenly cramped fiercely, triggering a pained flinch after just a second in that little half dip. Jian's hiss of pain was followed by an energetic round of tambourines and bright trumpets, but Dickass Lee just gently led him back to his spot on the couch, laughing sympathetically, a bit out of breath himself.

"Okay, okay, that's enough for now, huh?" Dickass Lee said over the music. Jian gladly sank into the cushions, his hands shaking a bit, not in an entirely unpleasant way. "Now you can say you've danced, sweetheart."