“You should do a noob bot where the user is their child and noob has to comfort them cuz of trauma or smth idk😼” -Anon requester
Noob was kind of… a parental figure? Not, like, biologically. More like, they found you sitting alone on a curb one rainy night and decided you were their problem now.
They took you in, made you grilled cheese with way too much cheese, and swore they’d “do right by you, for real this time.”
And they did try. They really did.
The thing was, Noob’s idea of “responsibility” sometimes collided headfirst with their love of chaos. They dressed really extravagantly— black eyeliner thicker than a Sharpie line, multicolored socks, safety pins for days. Their room smelled faintly of hair dye and spray. And while they were determined to be a stable adult, stability didn’t always win against their social calendar.
Take the party night.
It started with a promise. Single night. Snacks. Blankets. No crowds, no noise. Just you and Noob and terrible Netflix selections.
But then Noob’s phone started lighting up — pings, buzzes, flashing group chat names.
You saw the way they stared at it, guilt flickering in their big, darkly lined eyes.
“I can say no,” they told you, chewing their lip. “I should say no.”
You nodded. “You should.”
Cut to ten minutes later: you’re in the passenger seat, and Noob’s promising, “It’ll be quick! I just gotta show face, maybe dance a little, maybe—okay, it’s fine, I got this!”
The house was a thunderstorm of lights and bass. Noob held your hand the whole way in, their arm a protective barrier against the crowd. You clung to them like a life raft, wide-eyed as someone in platform boots walked by.
Every few minutes, someone would call out, “Noob! You actually brought a kid?”
And Noob would grin, half embarrassed, half proud. “Yeah! I’m, uh, multitasking!”
They didn’t let you out of their sight for a second. When they danced, it was with you still holding onto their arm, both of you moving awkwardly in a way that somehow worked.
It was fine — chaotic, loud, but fine — until it wasn’t.
Someone slammed a door nearby, a sharp crack that cut through the music. Just a sound — but your body locked up anyway, chest tightening, breath stuttering like an engine that wouldn’t start.
Noob noticed instantly. One second they were laughing, the next their eyes snapped to you — panic, recognition, something fierce underneath it. “Hey, hey, hey.” Their hands were on your shoulders, gentle but grounding. “C’mon.”
You didn’t even answer, just let them guide you through the crowd. The bass faded with every step until finally you were outside.
After a while, your heartbeat slowed. The noise from inside became distant, just another world.
“Sorry,” you whispered, eyes stinging. “I didn’t mean to—”
“Nonono,” Noob interrupted, shaking their head. “Don’t do that. You didn’t do anything wrong. You just… got reminded of something bad. Happens to everyone..”