#Hi-Fi got electronics and all

[raggydollsscreenshots]

Posting screenshots from The Raggy Dolls every day until ITV puts it on ITVX: Day 113:

[a-substantial-trash-pile]

Studio TV Solutions presents Half Life VR but the AI are Self-Aware (2020) [not a real movie]. A movie with a totally improv’d script starring a moltey crew who are sure to give you a rip-roarin’ good time!

anyway hi new au just dropped. i’m calling it HLVRAIM. it’s HLVRAI but it’s a blockbuster movie and the science team are played by actors. i have many thought on backstories n stuff that i will stick under a “read more” here otherwise this post will be hella long on people’s dashes. 👇👍 pls care about this i thought so hard and much

Half Life VR but the AI are Self-Aware was put out by Studio TV Solutions in 2020 and destroyed the box office with how fun it was and how well the cast played off one another. The cast was given a general outline for the script with the goal for it to be mostly improv.

Gordon Freeman: Mannie Flores (Dominican American, age 28, he/him) - Popular Youtuber/Twitch streamer (“Radi0Mann”). Got offered the role in HLVRAI thanks to the creative things he’s done in his Youtube/Twitch career. This is his first “official” acting gig. He was pretty starstruck at first, but then as he got to know everyone, he realized they’re all a bunch of dorks (affectionate). - Started off as a gaming channel, but then started branching off into various creative endeavors as he got more popular. He still plays games too though. - One of the things Mannie did in his internet career that hit the mainstream was when he wrote, directed, starred in, and filmed his own movie in just 2 weeks because he failed a bet with his audience. Except the movie was actually really good and funny and heartfelt (i want to say it was about “a man who got left behind on earth after everyone else was raptured because god literally forgot about him”, but i think the concept might’ve been done already). - Met Benji through HLVRAI. They hit it off and now they’re dating. They tried to keep it secret for a while but Mannie had a slip-up during a stream that sort of blew it out of the water.

Benrey: Benji Song (Japanese/Chinese, age 30, he/they) - Started off as a film sound designer in the industry, then through a series of silly willy little events—possibly even shenanigans—got roped into a role in a passion indie film that became wildly acclaimed and flung him into the spotlight. Been an actor ever since, but isn’t the most proactive in taking jobs much to their agent’s annoyance. People never know where he’ll pop up next. Sometimes Benji will sneak in sound designer work behind their agent’s back. - Honestly likes background work more because everyone’s got these expectations of them as an actor that they feel pressured to meet. But he’s also afraid of disappointing people. He’s working on it. - Met their partner Mannie through HLVRAI. Totally was a fan of his streams/videos beforehand though. When they mention that, Mannie gets flustered. - Does music as a hobby. Electronic stuff mostly—enjoys mashing together all sorts of sounds and trying to make them work. After HLVRAI, Mannie’s streams gets cool new music that’s made by somebody going by “johnwicklover1994.” wink

Harold Coomer: Hau’oli “Hau” Kaleo-Kirchhoff (Hawaiian/Samoan, age 66, he/him) - Old musician who’s supposed to be retired but once in a while will release a song or even do a concert (but nothing crazy). - Hau’oli is pronounced [hh-ow-oh-lee], but he also goes by “Hau” for the haoles’ sake. :) Kaleo is [kah-leh-oh]. also Hau’oli sounds a little bit like the name Holly so that’s a fun coincidence i didn’t realize until later. - Most of his music is chill island tunes but he has been known to dabble in rock and jazz. - Married to Mose (been together for 30 years and counting).

Bubby: Mose Kaleo-Kirchhoff (German, age 69 [nice], xe/him) - Veteran actor—been in the acting industry for a long time. One of his more well-known roles was in a popular sci-fi series. - Married to Hau’oli (they got married the moment it was legal). - i went with a name that started with “M” cuz when Gordon first asks Bubby for his name, xe’s like, “mmm Bubby.” and i headcanon it’s because Mose was about to say xir own name and had to swerve last minute and the thing his brain resorted to was Bubby lol.

Tommy Coolatta: Luis Tanglao (Filipino, age 37, he/they) - Child star who dropped out of the industry when he hit his teens and then came back years later as a comedian. He has material about how fucked up being a child star was. Will only take acting roles if it interests them. - They don’t care about how the public/media sees him. He’ll speak his mind and call out BS when he sees it. Interviewing them can be a war zone. - Hosts a popular podcast with some buds they discuss things like video games, their lives, news, etc. Just shooting the shit. - Sunkist is their actual dog and she modeled for the png photo that was used. Her name is actually Biko. She is a very good girl. <3

Darnold Pepper: Sage Haven (African American, age 40, he/her/they) - Famous cooking show host who gets offered roles in movies. Got popular by how unconventional her meals and cooking methods are and how funny he is. - Has had multiple food/cooking/baking shows over the years. Every competition-based one they’ve had focused more on good vibes, fun, and encouraging one another rather than drama. One show involved people competing to see who could make the best full course meal with the catch being they could only cook everything in a microwave. Many microwaves perished. - Changed their name to Sage Haven during their transition. They chose it because it reflects his passion and also is a play on the phrase “safe haven”, which is what she wants to be to others. - He has an adoptive daughter named Kit. She helped them think up bits and jokes. She also had to help explain what Half-Life was.

haven’t gotten to gman and forzen’s actors yet unfortunately. thinking gman’s actor could be a talk show host? because that would be funny. anyway thanks for humoring me on my shenanigans. bye

[ghostboybrainrot]

DPxDC Ghost Zone Amity AU Part 2

Part 1   Part 3  Part 4  AO3

Edit: I finally got around to adding this to AO3, link above.

Wow! I am completely blown away by the reaction the first part! It’s the first fic idea I ever posted. Thank you so much for all the likes and messages. I have a lot of ideas for this AU but I‘m new to writing so please be patient. I also would love to hear anyone’s ideas.

--------

Batman wanted to see the portal himself. Because of course he did. Nosy idiot couldn't let them handle it. And John Constantine just knew the bat was gonna make things harder on him.

"Can you disable it?" Gotham's knight asked.

"Of course not! This is some sci-fi bullshit and I don't do sci-fi. I do Magic, thank you very much.”

"You said you could sense death coming from it."

Constantine ran his hand through his hair, frustrated.

"Yeah but that doesn't mean I know how! This shouldn't be possible. And it radiates Death, capital D. This isn't just a device that has been exposed to death. It's owned by the Dead.

A grunt was all Constantine got as a reply, as the knight continued to examine the machine.

"Do you know where it goes?"

"To the DEAD! Haven't you been listening?! You know the Underworld? Hereafter? Netherworld? Hell with two L's? Hel with one L? Purgatory? Pandemonium? Hades? Tartarus? Any of these ringing a bell?"

Batman does not dignify the outburst with a response but he turns toward Constantine for the first time since they entered the building, narrowing his eyes.

"Which one?"

Constantine waved his hands noncommittally, "Eh, could be any of them. Could be ALL of them. They aren't completely separate. Like different branches of the same company. Different regional managers but all equally shitty.

Batman grunts again, turning back to the swirling mass. After a moment, he starts to fiddle with something on his belt. Constantine couldn't see what he was doing but he already didn't like it. Every time the bat investigated something that Constantine thought was better off left alone, his day would inevitably get MUCH worse. For the millionth time, he wonders why he bothers to associate with these idiots.

Batman pulls what he was messing with from beneath his cloak. His grapple gun? Constantine took several steps back. Nope. Nope, he definitely isn't gonna like this. 

Instead of firing the gun, Batman slowly pulled at the hook loosening the wire until he had roughly 10 ft of it coiled in his hand. Then without any hesitation, he approached the swirling green, tossing the hook inside. It promptly disappeared, quietly, as though it had simply sunk into murky water.

They both waited. No sound could be heard except the ambient buzzing of electronics coming from the large machine. Batman stood a few feet from the portal, watching the line intensely. He had braced himself as though he expected the line to snap taut at any moment and pull him in. After roughly a minute and no such thing happened, Batman slowly reeled in the line feeding it back into the gun.

The hook came into view, no worse for wear. None of the green substance lingered on it. After briefly examining it, Batman clipped it back to his belt. Constantine was slightly disappointed that it hadn't come back ablaze or melting, only because it would help him narrow it down. Having it come back unscathed didn't really tell him where it led. Then again the fact that it wasn’t instantly destroyed from coming in contact with the portal was probably a good thing.

"I think you gotta put worms on the end if you wanna catch something Bats." Constantine joked. He knew the man wouldn't react but couldn't help it. 

To his surprise, John heard a chuckle from directly behind him. It startled him but he did his best to not show it. He knew who it was and didn't want to give him the satisfaction.

Boston Brand, Deadman, slowly floated into view in front of the magician. He was watching Batman but directed his comment toward John.

"I was expecting the Bat to get dragged in! A little disappointed if I'm bein' honest." Deadman laughed.

"I'd be lying if I didn't feel somewhat similar. When'd you get in?"

"Not too long ago," the ghost said conversationally, "I did a quick lap around the crater. Phew! That thing is huge!"

"No kidding? I hadn't noticed." The magician snarked, pulling a cigarette out and placing it between his lips. He wouldn't light up in here. He wouldn't want to piss off the Bat but the familiar feel on his lips brought him a small amount of comfort.

Batman seemed to have noticed Constantine's one sided conversation. He turned to stare at the occultist, his eyes narrowing again. 

"Boston?"

"Who else?" Constantine grumbled.

Suddenly, without warning, he felt a cold wave rush over him as the ghost phased into his body. He felt his mouth open, his cigarette fell to the ground, and a voice that wasn't quite his own spoke.

"Hiya Batman! Long time no see! I heard you guys could use a little help?" John's face grinned without his approval. The voice coming from John had a Brooklyn accent and was entirely too cheerful for his liking.

Batman nodded, unsurprised by the English man’s sudden accent and demeanor change. He gestured over his shoulder toward the machine.

"What can you tell me about this device?"

"Umm..." John's legs brought him a little closer and his hand came up to his chin as though he was thinking hard. "I mean it's definitely spooky, I get kindof a weird vibe from it but other than that. Meh." He shrugged. "Not really my area, Bats."

"Does it seem dangerous?"

"Honestly? I don't think so. Like Constantine said it definitely radiates Death but not like in like in a scary way. Hard to describe. Feels kinda like a nap after a long day, ya know?"

Batman didn't respond. There was a good chance he didn’t know. Constantine had never know the man to take a break. Did he even know what a nap was?

"Would you be willing to investigate?"

"Ya mean like go in? I suppose. Not like I'm getting any deader. Ha!"

As quickly as it appeared, the cold sensation that gripped him vanished and John Constantine's body was his own again.

"Bloody ghost! You made me drop my cig." He bent down to retrieve the cigarette, brushed it off, and put it back in his mouth. John hated when Deadman did that. Which was probably the reason he did it. He could have just asked John to translate. Or better yet ask him to magic Batman's eyes so he could see the ghost! But Boston loved to see John frazzled. As annoying as it was to be on the receiving end, John couldn’t begrudge the ghost his fun. He knew how lonely it could be being dead in the land of the living. No one even knowing he was there. Constantine may not be dead but he’d been around it enough to know how isolating it could be.

"Sorry John!" The ghost called back goodnaturedly, already heading toward the portal. "Wish me luck!"

The ghost flew through the portal and the room was quiet once again. Batman couldn't see the ghost had disappeared but he followed John's gaze toward the machine and waited. Accurately guessing he had already passed through.

After a short moment, Constantine wondered if he had enough time to go outside for a quick smoke. But before he could decide, Deadman's head poked back through the swirl of green. The rest of him followed close behind, looking exactly the same as when he left.

"Well?" John asked impatiently.

"Seems safe enough. It leads to another portal on the other side. No monsters or anything."

Batman spoke up, "What's he saying?"

Constantine, taking a page out of Batman's book, ignored the knight continuing to address the ghost. "And? Where does it come out?"

"That's the weird thing. I think it's just a garage."

-------

That’s all I have for now! Let me know how i did and what you think should happen next.

I have a lot of ideas on what happens to GZ Amity, and coincidentally humanity as a whole, as a result of it getting stuck. I like to think that over time this creates a whole subspecies of liminal humans and GZ Amity ends up giving a solar(ecto?) punk vibe.

Jack and Maddie are LOVING living in the ghost zone. After the initial shock, and a short adjustment period, they throw themselves into their research just as hard as before but instead of focusing on weapons they focus on researching the properties of the ghost zone. They use what they learn to better the lives of the residents of the town.

Amity Parkers don’t leave when they die. Old Evelyn Baker is still there like 300 years in the future. And because no one leaves, the town expands.

Blob ghosts wander around the city like stray cats. People treat them like pets. The Fentons create a blob collar especially for ecto-pets that is designed to stay on despite their semi-intangible nature. Using that design they are able to make equipment that will automatically phase WITH the user without having to dedicate extra energy to it.

I like the idea of Vlad coming around eventually. I think it would be funny for liminal!Amity Parkers gaining a resistance to overshadowing. And because Amity isn’t really part of the US anymore, his vast wealth doesn’t really do him any good. So here he is sad and alone. All his plans have failed and his power is rendered almost entirely useless. He can still overshadow people in the living world and the US is still a capitalist hellscape so his money is good there. But without any sort of end goal it loses its appeal. Eventually, he’ll come crawling back to Amity. 

------

Tags:

@seraphinedemort @bookreaderman @ronocnogard19 @apointlessbox @d4ydr34min9 @fylylowo @takingspagetts @vythika96 @catmaraudersfan @coruscateselene @gin2212 @running-batty @amercurio @victoria-has-no-secret @clarinetily @imsociallyanxiousgetoverit @ironicvixen @toomanyartsuppliesnotenoughtime @thewondersoflebanon @booklover4177 @malice-of-the-sunrise @thegatorsgoose @theamazingfox @xye-chan @farmercale @dontfightmecauseillcry @alcorbearson

[spdrslayr]

003. atsv headcanons ! ★ pre collider jonathon ohnn x reader…

! pt. 2 - post collider hcs. ⁀➷ srcs... masterlist .rules. intro .

| synopsis, ୨♡୧ a little glimpse into your relationship with dr. johnathon ohnn.

★ tags -> gender neutral reader; johnathon ohnn; the spot; fluff; etc...

★ warnings -> cursing; johnathon being a meanie; mentions of trauma & abandonment

★ w.c -> 1,028

| xox, mei! ୨♡୧ -> earlier a centipede got into my room while i was bopping out to hyperpop. it scared me so much that i was able to leverage the fear into energy for writing.

he loves to make you laugh. johnathon’s such a  goof compared to other renowned scientists of his age and caliber. really, it’s a breath of fresh air. he knows how to have fun, especially with you.  he’ll crack the funniest joke at work only for his coworkers to look at him like: 😐😐😐; so it makes him really happy to know you think he’s funny. you both have so many inside jokes n stories that you’ll cherish forever.

he’s totally the type of person to make jokes whenever he’s nervous or unsure of what to say. he won you over by being silly!

he’ll say the meanest jokes about people you both don’t like, and it’s insanely funny. you think of your johnny as the sweetest boyfriend- but you have to admit, it’s kinda hot when he’s mean.

“if mr.fisk keeps crying about the mets- i’m gonna make sure this collider kills us all,” he grumbled under his breath.

“that annoying photographer visited alchemax again. what was his name…” he feigned innocence. “piper pickle?”

johnathon is such a nerd. it’s adorable how excited he gets about his favorite video games and movies. please indulge in his geeky interests!! he’d love love LOVE to watch some of his favorite sci-fi movies with you. he’ll talk over the entire movie, but it’s still nice to cuddle.

 if you don’t know how to play a certain video game of his, he’ll teach you. his voice is so soft n understanding, his breath tickling you while you cuddle. johnathon’s squished to your side, his large hands covering n guiding yours over the controller. and gets so giddy when you win something. all in all, he’s just happy to share something so dear to him with you.

imagine if it turned out one of his favorite characters (crushes cough cough) bore a striking resemblance to you. johnathon is mortified and you’re weirdly flattered (and planning an elaborate cosplay for a surprise.)

his intelligence drives you nuts. it’s INSANELY attractive to you how smart johnathon is. whenever he goes on a tangent about physics or some complicated mathematical concept, you get kind of dizzy listening to him. you don’t mean to, but after a while, you get too distracted by all of him to listen. he’s so passionate, his large hands and long fingers waving about to help emphasize his point. his eyes are sparkling too. his voice got a lot deeper when he (perfectly, by the way) pronounced the word “viscoelasticity” and you’re on cloud 9. this happens whether or not you can understand a word he’s saying. and if you’re not well versed in science, he never talks down to you when rambling. sure, he’s very proud to be a super-genius, but he’d never dream of looking down on other people because of it. 

you’re always asking him questions and he fucking loves it. DON’T ASK GOOGLE ABOUT SCIENCE SHIT. if you do he’ll be all pouty n sad.

“hey siri, what is the shape of an electron-”

he looks furious, letting out a scoff. “i’m right here. your smart-ass boyfriend is only a few feet away and you’re asking ol’ googly eyes!”

despite being a busy workaholic, he insists that he’s never too busy for you. if necessary, he’ll make time.

johnathon’s made it his mission to outsmart anyone who impresses you. “i’m not jealous i’m BETTER.”

johnathon adores cuddling you, especially after a stressful day. he just loves you so much that sometimes the only way he can express that to you is by holding you as close as humanly possible. johnathon adores every inch of your being and intends to appreciate every part of it, scars and all. one may expect him to be the big spoon because, well, long man- but it goes either way. sometimes he clutches you like his life depends on it and other times he just needs to bask in your embrace. it makes him feel safe, loved, and on his worst days, invincible.

when in bed, he’ll be running his big hands up and down your sides, rubbing circles into every dent n curve. his hands are hairy, so it’ll tickle a bit, but the way he massages you is nothing short of masterful. he’s so happy that you’re his, so he makes sure to savor you.

johnny loves it when you trace his tattoos. he thinks it’s so cute how much you love them, letting you ‘oooh’ and ‘awww’ as much as your pretty little heart desires. 

in the past he absolutely loathed going to alchemax events. being choked by a black tie for a whole ass evening while being forced to mingle with rich assholes is a nightmare for the poor man. but having you come along as his date makes the experience a more positive one. johnathon gets so smug, always delighted to show you off. like yeah, that’s MY s/o. yes they’re gorgeous and taken. by ME. he loves seeing you all dressed up, especially when you’re on his arm.

he’s an introvert, so he gets tired of all the socializing quickly. when that happens, he’ll wander around the venue with you (including places you aren’t allowed to be at-) to get some privacy (and make out.)

speaking of work, he has a picture of you on his desk. he has it placed at an angle so he can see it clearly, but so can anyone who walks in. 

johnnys practically screaming: “hey!! look at how beautiful my partner is!!!!”

he calls you baby. he’ll also call you dear, honey, and sweetheart, but baby the most. also counting babe. johnathon has a shit ton more cute nicknames for you and he is NOT afraid to use them.

“g’morning, baby,” he’ll murmur into the crook of your neck, in between sloppy wet kisses on your shoulder.

he passes by you in a rush, but not without pressing a big wet kiss to your check, “hi babe! :)”

“baaaaaabe where did you put the chips?” he can be whiny, especially with you.

“i love you, baby,” he’d tell you softly, cradling your face with his hand. his thumb is rubbing your bottom lip and you’re ready to faint.

[veinsfullofstars]

do the CF!AU kids like music? 🎵 🎶 can any of them play an instrument?

They do! I wouldn’t say music is an especially big part of their lives, but their youth was definitely filled with it, listening to songs and dramas on the radio, catching parents or neighbors humming over dinner, or seeing the rare live performance in the village square. And, much like their choice in food, their music tastes are pretty varied, sometimes clashing, sometimes overlapping.

Para Dee honestly couldn’t tell you if he likes one particular genre over another, content to listen to whatever is playing as long as it isn’t too loud or grating. In his own time, he seems to enjoy more folksy tunes, acoustic covers, lo-fi beats, or anything with gentle piano… that said, if given the option, he might actually prefer some natural ambiance or even white noise instead, as these help him concentrate better when he’s working or studying. Can’t have a lot of distractions when doing rocket science, y’know (though try telling that to a house full of noisy siblings). Later in life, he gains an appreciation for bluesy and jazzier music through Meta, though he can’t say the same for the heavier or high-energy recommendations he gets from Dedede or Bow.

As much as he passively enjoys music (and actually taught himself to read notation on a whim once), he doesn’t really have a knack for making it himself. One year, when a few guest instructors came to visit the village, he and most of the neighborhood kids got the opportunity to learn an instrument of their choosing. Para tried out a bunch of different options - recorder, piano, trumpet, harp, even the triangle - but quickly found that none of them were really for him. It was a little disappointing, seeing all the fun his buddies seemed to be having… but he’s never minded appreciating things from afar, content to feel the vicarious happiness of others enjoying something he might otherwise not. Perhaps that’s why he feels only fondness when - in the future - his oldest son is the first to start singing…

Perhaps unsurprisingly, Bow Dee’s tastes land somewhere on the opposite end of the spectrum from her mild-mannered buddy. Thanks to her mothers’ rather extensive collection of old records (and the occasional eavesdrop on her more musically-inclined older brother), she’s been exposed to a lot of different music - everything from hip-hop to punk rock to bubblegum pop to breakcore to disco - with her favorites being anything fast-paced, electronic, and danceable. She’s not as into rock or metal as Dedede is but has found a few good songs through his recommendations. She finds classical music monotonous and boring, much to Para and Meta’s disappointment. Her interest in jazz or swing depends on the BPM.

Like Para, Bow does not have a single musical bone in her little body (despite how much it absolutely loves to dance). When given the choice of instrument to try, she immediately picked drums, though more to create some chaotic noise and violence rather than music, and even then, her interest didn’t last longer than the first day.

They did get into turntables for a while during their time overstars with Meta, having seen many an interstellar club scene by that point and feeling a spark of inspiration they’d never had with other creative pursuits (something nostalgic about handling those spinning records). Despite the intimidating technical aspect, they mastered the basics of DJ-ing in (heh) record time, getting so into it that they almost considered making another career change… until their exasperated squadmates dragged them back to their training, of course. Just another bright and vibrant detour at the end of the day, but at least it comes in handy at parties.

Dedede’s taste in music has changed much over the course of his life, from a youth filled with his mama’s country records to the rebellious rock ’n roll of his teen years to a later fondness for bouncier pop tunes with a big emphasis on percussion. He says he doesn’t have a lot of strong opinions about music, feeling much the same ambivalent appreciation as Para… though, the heated debates he gets into with his buddies over who the best bands are, what the coolest instrument is, or even who can hold a tune better seem to suggest otherwise.

Same goes for the actual pursuit of music. While there might’ve been some half-formed melodies floating around in his head, the thought of all the extra lessons he’d need to take to realize them always sent Dedede’s motivation packing. He only took the class because his friends did and spent much of it chatting or dozing off, messing with the tambourine in the hopes of half-assing his way through the course. When he begrudgingly moved on to drums, he found he could actually hold a beat pretty well when he put the effort into it, even having fun by the time Bow challenged him to an impromptu drum-off (which ended in a draw when they both broke their borrowed kits). Of the four of them, only he and Meta actually finished the course with the other kids, with Dedede even managing to convince his parents to get him a small drum kit of his own… though, without the focus of instruction (or the constant encouragement of his peers), the enthusiasm soon faded, and the kit was ultimately left to collect dust in a corner. It frustrated his papa to no end, continuing to deplore his son’s laziness, while his mama just shrugged, a little disappointed but ultimately unsurprised.

Though his passions clearly lie elsewhere, he still dabbles in music in his adulthood, unable to resist grabbing his tambo when a party starts heating up or picking up his old sticks when he needs to to hit something in a non-fighting way. He even picked up the cello in his later years, albeit very briefly.

There was a time when music fascinated Meta. To be fair, everything fascinated him back then, but music especially. He’d sit by a radio or spinning record for hours on end, just… listening to whatever came on, even if it wasn’t a style he particularly enjoyed. He absorbed it all with the same hungry curiosity as he did books, captivated for reasons he couldn’t articulate (maybe it was just better than the ringing weight of pure silence). Over time, as the novelty of life settled into comfortable mundanity, his tastes refined, narrowed. He found a preference for what Dedede teasingly referred to as “old people music” - brass-filled jazz, crooning blues, complex piano pieces, orchestral performances that seemed to tell whole sweeping stories without ever breathing a word. He doesn’t dislike heavier or faster music - it’s actually rather motivating when blasting through the speakers of a training room - but he does get a small kick out of subverting expectations. Some of Bow’s recommendations do tend to leave him with migraines, though. He has no strong feelings about country tunes despite the faint nostalgia he feels when he hears one...

Meta was the only one of the four who took to the music class with gusto, keen to learn as always and curiously trying out just about every instrument they had available. He settled on both the piano and the violin, already partial to their sounds and eager to make them himself. It was… difficult at first, given his limited reach and the complexity of each instrument (much to the smug schadenfreude of his more dedicated bullies), but the challenge only seemed to motivate him more, even likening it to swordplay of all things, in that both skills required lots of concentration, patience, and dexterity to master (Para thought it was a a good analogy; Dedede just tried to goad him into an actual fight with his drumsticks). He continued to practice even after the class ended, learning to read notation and tabs, memorizing songs to the point where he could improvise, his little flourishes surprising and delighting anyone who got to hear him play. His few attempts at actual songwriting were… not bad, exactly, just never quite reaching the needlessly-high standards he set for himself. To this day, he’s never shared them with anyone (not even Dedede).

In time, his training would take priority, and any interest he might’ve had in pursuing music was set aside. Like Dedede, he still dabbles from time to time, occasionally taking part in celebrations with his friends (even picking up the saxophone for one of them), but little more than that. Sometimes, late at night, the crew aboard the Halberd can hear a distant violin on the breeze, always gone when they try to find it.

Sketches started 12/15/24, finished 12/18/24. | Childhood Friends AU Masterpost

[leverage-ot3]

notable moments from The Cross My Heart Job

leverage 4.09

(team comes down an escalator toward the main floor)

Sophie: Well, that trip was a complete disaster.

Hardison: It was a train wreck.

Eliot: No, it was a shipwreck. And you know how I know that? 'Cause I was in the wreck.

Hardison: Hey, man, I don't want to hear you complain. At least you don't have to fix th-the ear buds. You know what?

Eliot: Man, don't talk to me about the ear buds! I just fought three ex-Brazilian combat divers with spear-guns, underwater!

Hardison: I don't want to hear it. I don't want to hear it.

Eliot: You believe this? (taps Sophie’s arm)

Sophie: Ow, don't touch me. I am sunburnt everywhere. I hate playing the French heiress on the topless beach.

Parker: Oh, I don't know what you're complaining about. I didn't even get to see the emerald.

Hardison: Are you for real?

Eliot: Oh, my god, for the last time, it's not an emerald. All right? It's an island. It's the "Emerald of the Caribbean."

chaotic family on an escalator

- - - - -

Parker: The heart could be anywhere by now. They could have jumped in a taxi and driven off.

Sophie: No, no, we have to assume it's still in the airport, that they're planning to fly it out.

Parker: Why?

Eliot: 'Cause otherwise, we've already lost

- - - - -

Eliot: All right. They're in there. We're gonna need a distraction.

(Sophie takes off her pants and uses her long shirt like a dress, then shakes out her hair and pulls a pair of heels from her purse. Parker counts some cash)

Parker: All right, they told Linda to call from a pay phone for instructions once she made the drop.

Eliot (hands Parker money): Better hurry up, or they're gonna start getting suspicious.

Parker: It's a good thing we didn't stay on that island to see those emeralds.

Eliot: Parker, I just t...

(Sophie leans on Eliot to put on her shoes)

Eliot: You carry high heels in your purse?

Sophie: I always travel with heels. (takes Parker’s scarf and ties it around her waist) How's this? Distracting enough?

Parker: Hmm.

parker and eliot both look away, partially to give her privacy but partially to act as a wall so that other people won’t see her changing

notice the stark contrast between this scene and the other changing scene in this episode

- - - - -

(the clerk closes the doors. Inside, Eliot pulls the kidnapper between two tables while Parker talks to Tanya)

Paker: Yeah, that will work. We'll get you a little taser, carry it with you wherever you go-

parker and her tasers + being surprisingly good with kids

- - - - -

Nate (to Eliot): What do you got on this guy?

Eliot: He's not a professional. He has no combat training. Lousy Zanshin.

Parker: The what?

Eliot: He's a loc... It means "personal awareness." Thug for hire, but very well funded. (hands Nate tickets) Two first-class tickets, one for him and one for the girl, and that's how they got past security, and (hands gun to Nate) plastic gun. One or two shots in the barrel warps, but that's pretty much all you need, very pricey hardware.

Parker: Why would someone pay for that but not hire a professional?

Eliot: He doesn't want a professional. He wants a local so we can't trace him back to him.

- - - - -

(Eliot uses a cord to tie the kidnapper’s hands)

Eliot (to Sophie): Don't suppose you travel with handcuffs.

Sophie: No, not on this trip.

👀👀👀

- - - - -

Parker: Plus the ear buds are busted.

Hardison: And I burned our phones and our credit cards so we can't be traced.

Sophie: Most of our money went on bribing the waiter.

Eliot: We're operating in a secured area.

Parker: And my lock picks are checked.

Hardison: And airport wi-fi is a joke. Face it, we're practically naked.

- - - - -

(Eliot and Parker walk out of the Restaurant and part ways. Parker approaches a kiosk that sells computers and looks around, then crouches to look at the locks before walking away. Eliot approaches an electronic store before yelling catches his attention from a check in desk not far away)

Platinum Flyer: You guys! Hey! Platinum flyer over here. Come here. Somebody look at me.

Airline Clerk: Sir, please calm down.

Platinum Flyer: Ju... let me stop you right there, okay? I don't care what seats you have left, all right? Do you see this? (holds up a card) I am a vista Atlantic platinum flyer, all right? Is this card gold? No. Look at it. Is it silver? No.

(Eliot looks around, sees a magazine and picks it up)

Platinum Flyer: It's platinum, all right? So if you think that I am sitting back in coach with the rabble, you got another think coming, all right?

(Eliot puts the magazine over the Platinum Flyer’s briefcase as the man tries to drop his wallet into it)

Platinum Flyer: You can just forget it. I don't even want to talk to you anymore. Who's that? Thing one and thing two, come here. You guys. Hey!

(Eliot walks back to the electronics store and pulls the Platinum Flyer’s credit card from the wallet. He enters the store and grabs several packages of walkie talkies, then flags down a clerk)

Eliot: Yo, yo, yo. Come over here.

(Parker tries on various sunglasses, stealing a pair before walking away. She walks past again and steals a snow globe. On another pass she steals a bag. She returns to the computer kiosk and breaks the sunglasses to picks the locks, revealing an old style CRT monitor)

all this competence porn, it’s SO GOOD

- - - - -

(later Parker and Eliot take apart the walkie talkies at a table while Hardison uses an old computer at the bar with Sophie and Linda watching while Nate paces)

Nate: Hardison, come on.

Hardison: Look, man, this is like stone knives and bearskins, okay? Nobody's asking Eliot to fight a guy with a nerf sword.

Eliot: Damascus, 2002.

Hardison: Like you've been to Damascus.

domestic parker and eliot taking apart walkie talkies? eliot legit sword fighting with a nerf sword? amazing

- - - - -

(the clerk watches from behind them, amazed)

Hardison: Wh-what? Come on, man. Like you've never seen a man travel with a desktop before. Go.

LMAO

- - - - -

Nate: Right there! Right there. Him.

Sophie: Dean Chesney?

Nate: Dean Chesney, CEO of Vertronics defense contractor. I had my eye on him for quite a while, but he was never a high-priority target.

Hardison: Why not?

Nate: He was dying.

- - - - -

(Eliot sits down and his feet hit against the struggling kidnapper. Eliot kicks him in the head but he continues making muffled sounds)

Nate: Are you done?

(Eliot kicks the man again)

Eliot: Yeah

- - - - -

Hardison: After we get out of the public areas of the terminal, we work on level two. It's ground crew, tarmac access. It gets us from here to the private terminal.

Parker: How do we get that? Break Eliot's wrist?

Hardison: What? N-no, no. We just pick one up from where the ground crew left it.

[Locker Room]

Parker (opening combination lock): Yeah, this will keep my stuff safe, from a 6-year-old with the DTs.

(Parker opens the locker and removes a jacket. Eliot closes the locker and hits the lock on the one next to it, opening the lock. He pulls out a level 2 badge and hands it to Parker)

Eliot: That's two.

(Parker and Eliot begin to change clothes)

🔥🔥🔥 scene tho 🔥🔥🔥

also, notice how they start getting changed without turning around or anything, like hardison would have immediately turned around because that’s who he is. she literally immediately takes her shirt off without a care. he doesn’t even blink at it. eliot and parker have a very strong, nonverbal, physical bond because they’re similar entities. they understand each other on a deep level because of their pasts and there isn’t that type of need for modesty between them.

also they’re literally so close to each other when they’re doing this??? literally, personal space? they don’t know her

ALSO, eliot throws his shirt at the camera and idk it feels like he’s giving parker privacy from the “onlookers” (aka the camera) if you get what I’m saying,,,

- - - - -

Sophie: Well, we have to lure them out.

Parker: Oh, okay. Set Nate on fire?

Eliot: Settle down

she mouths “no” back at him and they have a silent exchange where she ends up smiling I love them

- - - - -

Hardison (pacing): Come on, Eliot. Come on, come on. Come on, man.

Announcer: Mr. Picard. Mr. Kirk Picard, please meet your party at door "E.

ELIOT KNOWS HOW TO GET HARDISONS ATTENTION. HE KNOWS TO MAKE A STAR TREK REFERENCE AND BAM HARDISON KNOWS WHATS UP. WHAT D O R K S

- - - - -

(Eliot gets into a cart that Parker is sitting in. She holds up the keys and hands them to him)

Parker: Let's ride

her SMILE and EXCITEMENT

- - - - -

Hardison: Excuse me. Uh, something's wrong with my pin. Can you reset it for me?

(Hardison hands the card to the guard, who scans it)

Guard: Can you confirm your old pin?

(the screen shows that the card belongs to a woman and the guard looks at Hardison in surprise)

Guard: Uh...

Hardison: What?

Guard: Wh—

Hardison: what? You got a, you got a problem? My little transformation? Go on, speak your mind. Yeah, I had some surgery, huh? A little nip, a little tuck, a little pop, okay? And now I am who I'm supposed to be. I used to be Francesca. Now my name is Frank!

Guard: Um...

(a second guard turns to look at Hardison)

Hardison: You got a problem? You... excu—excu—I didn't know this was the club. You all up in the mix, don't even know the flavor. What's your problem? (walks around the desk aggressively) You got a, you—everybody got a problem with this? Look, racism, sexism, anti-semitism? That's how you y'all want to play this? Cool. I thought it was a no-no in airport security, but I see y'all profilin' me right, left, and center, everywhere. You know what? Shame on you. Shame on your mama. Shame on your kids.

(Hardison glances at the monitor to see the pin number, then walks back around the desk)

Guard: I-it's fine. I-it's fine. I got no problem with anything. Uh, it-it looks like you used to, used to be a-a really pretty girl.

Hardison: Used to be?

Guard: A-and n-now you're a-a very handsome gentleman.

Hardison: You hitting on me?

Guard: C-can you confirm your old pin?

Hardison: It's 5135.

Guard: Uh. (scans the card) Okay, there. Try that.

Hardison: Thank you. (looks at second guard) You better re-adjust your peripherals.

Guard 2: Real smooth.

(Hardison returns to the card reader and scans the card, entering the pin)

Reader: Pin accepted.

Hardison: Don't care what anybody else says. Next time, I'm taking the train.

I can’t tell if this scene was transphobic or not ??? like, it could have been worse and he called out people who would be judgmental of his “transformation” ???

like there was like one other kinda transphobic thing they did in the show but I forget the episode

- - - - -

Nate: I know what you're gonna say.

Sophie: I think you should have a drink.

Nate: Okay, I didn't know what you were gonna say.

Sophie: Look, we don't like it when you drink, (pours him a drink) but we trust you when you do. We both knew this was gonna get personal. We need you to stay clear-headed. You let it get to you now, it's gonna go bad for all of us. Be very careful, Nate.

- - - - -

Nate: Sam would have been 13 this year. A teenager. Almost a man. I mean, you know, probably a big pain in the ass, but… Joshua Spin is getting out of that hospital bed.

(Sophie nods. Nate sighs and takes the drink, looking down at Sophie’s hand over his)

- - - - -

hardison’s GRIN when he sees all the computers in the tower 🥺

- - - - -

Parker: It took us 8 minutes to get there. It's gonna take us 8 minutes to get back. Wait. (goes around to the front of the cart)

Eliot: What are you doing? Wait. No way!

(Parker lies on the ground and reaches under the cart)

Eliot: Come on, Parker, we got to go! We got to get-- Let's go! What are you do-- Quit monkeying around under there!

(Parker stands up holding a piece of electronics)

Eliot: Did you just pull something out of the engine?

Parker: Yeah. Spark regulator, keeps the cart from going more than 25 miles an hour. Now we'll get there in 4 minutes.

(Eliot starts the cart and takes off quickly)

Parker: Hey! Whoa! Whoa! Yeah!

- - - - -

Nate: Last week on that island, you faked a volcanic eruption. How is this harder?

HE DID WHAT NOW

- - - - -

Nate: You just sell it to the tower.

Sophie: Massdot special?

Nate: Massdot special.

Linda: Massdot special?

Sophie: Yes! (takes Linda’s phone and makes a call)

[National Weather Service]

Rachael: National Weather Service. This is Rachel.

Sophie: Oh, thank God!

[Crab-a-Rama]

Sophie: I was just out walking my dogs, and I saw a tornado touch down!

(Nate pulls up pictures of tornadoes on the computer)

Rachael: Are you sure?

[National Weather Service]

Rachael: The current forecast don't indicate any severe-weather patterns.

Sophie: I'm sure.

[Crab-a-Rama]

Sophie: I took a photo of it with my phone. I'm sending it to you now.

(Nate sends a picture of a tornado to Rachael as he dials the phone)

[National Weather Service]

(Rachael looks at the picture in shock)

Rachael: Uh, please hold, ma'am. (places Sophie on hold and takes another call) National weather service. This is Rachel.

[Crab-a-Rama]

Nate: Are you asleep at the wheel? There's a tornado out here by the airport right now! A freaking tornado! Come on!

[National Weather Service]

Rachael: Bill. Bill!

Bill: What is it?

Rachael: We got calls here. I think we need to issue a tornado warning for the Cincinnati metropolitan area.

- - - - -

Chesney: --to make the top of the list. This is my only chance. I've planned for months. I have eight backup contingencies. I'm fighting for my life, Mr. Ford! What are you fighting for?

[Crab-a-Rama]

Nate: I am fighting for that 15-year-old boy that you're going to kill.

[Chesney’s Room]

Chesney: God helps those who help themselves.

Nate: And I help people who can't.

[Crab-a-Rama]

Nate: And God help you if anything should happen to that boy, because if he spends more than one second longer in that hospital than he needs to, I will make it my mission in life to end you.

[Chesney’s Room]

Nate: I will ruin you.

[Crab-a-Rama]

Nate: I will ruin your name. I will ruin your company. I will bring down everything you have ever touched. And when I am done, I will hunt you down--

[Chesney’s Room]

Nate: --and I will kill you myself.

[Crab-a-Rama]

(Nate hangs up the phone)

- - - - -

parker yells “yee haw” a lot and I love her for that

- - - - -

Pilot: Tower, field is in sight.

Program: We have you in sight. Clear to land on runway 1-8.

Hardison: Okay, flight 4-0-9. W-we have a visual. You are clear to land on runway 1-8.

Pilot: Roger. Clear to land.

(the airplane lands safely)

Pilot: Tower, we are down.

Hardison: Yes! Hell yeah! That's what I'm talking about.

Pilot: Say again, tower?

Hardison: I'm sorry. No, no, I'm sorry. It's cool. It's cool. It's cool. Celebrate with me. All right.

hardison managed to land an airplane with 300 people on it with nothing more than a computer and a flight simulator and we STAN our intelligent man

- - - - -

eliot was always standing next to hardison in all the extra scenes in this episode and we love to see it

- - - - -

(Eliot looks at Nate and Sophie, then nudges Hardison)

Eliot: Let's go.

(Eliot grabs Parker on the way down the hall, Hardison follows them)

his lil pat on hardison’s shoulder? how he places a guiding hand on parker’s arm, leading her away? we LOVE to see casual touches and casual intimacy between them

- - - - -

so hardison likes to assemble model helicopters in his spare time sometimes and nate assembles model ships in his ???

- - - - -

Chesney: So now what? You can't report me without exposing yourself. And what's to stop me from trying again?

[Leverage HQ]

Nate: I am. (hits remote to bring up information and a video feed on the monitors) I'm watching you. I'm watching your money, your people, your company. What have you got there, a pulse rate of 86?

[Chesney’s Room]

(Chesney looks around in alarm)

[Leverage HQ]

Nate: Oh, look at that.

[Chesney’s Room]

Nate: Just jumped up to 104. That can't be good for you.

[Leverage HQ]

Nate: Make your peace now, Chesney. (continues putting model together) Because if I see anything, anything I don't like...

[Chesney’s Room]

Chesney: Well, Mr. Ford it seems you've killed me after all.

[Leverage HQ]

Nate: Oh, I didn't kill you. God killed you. I just made sure it took. (hangs up)

[pecanwriter]

Big Boy Mode: Activated PART 2

Themes: rapid weight gain, humiliation kink, technology-induced weight gain (so like, magic weight gain but for sci fi nerds I guess)

Words: 1147

Part: 2/?

Still as a 432lb(195kg) man, Elliott left the SimNano shop on shaky knees. They were shaky partially because of the sheer amount of weight he’d subjected them to, but more so because he just revealed his deepest fantasies to a handsome man and somehow managed to obtain that man’s number in the process. His system was fixed now, it would be easy to go into a changing room or a toilet stall and deactivate SimNano, bringing himself back to his real weight and walking out of the shopping centre as if nothing happened. The thing was… He didn’t want to. 

to the shopping centre in the first place was the hottest and most fulfilling experience of his life. Not being able to fit in an Uber, huffing and puffing with every step… This was all Elliott ever wanted. When he got it, he really didn’t think of using SimNano outside of the house, planning on living his fantasies out in private. What he didn’t realise, was that with the sudden addition of 300lb(136kg) he was unrecognizable. That completely removed the only worry he had; that someone from work or someone he knew would see him. If they did, they wouldn’t know it was him. After all, they’d just seen Elliott days ago, undeniably a thin 132lb(60kg) man. There was no way this immense, obese man waddling around and sweating as if he’d just run a marathon was the same person. 

Before making his way home, Elliott stopped at a few clothing shops. Picking up some ON SALE items in a range of different sizes, styles and materials. He’d received more than a few suspicious looks as he purchased clothes clearly too small or too big for him, but he really couldn’t find it in himself to care. Suddenly, adorned in his armour of flab Elliott felt invincible, shameless, absolutely free. 

When Elliott got home it was only 11 AM, he still had the entire day to himself before having to go to work at 8 PM. Feeling sweaty and sticky Elliott deactivated the SimNano and watched as his body deflated and shrank, making him thin within seconds, as if nothing had ever happened. He immediately missed the feeling of his fat flesh rubbing together and how hard it was to walk… But he didn’t think he could fit into his tiny shower with all that blubber, and he really needed to get himself cleaned up. 

When Elliott stepped out of the shower he had a text message waiting for him. 

There was no message, just an attachment, the file titled “Big Fun”. The was another file with a short tutorial on how to upload the program into his SimNano. 

If there was something that could get Elliott nearly as worked up as the thought of being fat, it was tinkering with electronics, so he eagerly set to work. 

The program was extensive and it took a while for Elliott to find all the right sub-engines and codes necessary for it to work, but when he finally did he felt like he’d won a lottery.

There were tens, if not hundreds of different programs and sub-programs. 

He scrolled through the menu on his SimNano pad, overwhelmed with the sheer amount of data. 

Finally, deciding to just go for it, Elliott clicked on the first one that caught his eye. 

The program was titled “Spoiled Little Piggy”. 

Elliott activated it and shivered with excitement as the tingling of the nanobots started to roil along his entire body. 

Feeling like a kid on Christmas Day, Elliott looked in the mirror. He was maybe about 250lb/113kg, which wasn’t that big, but he was gorgeous. There was an ample, rounded belly with adorable, soft love handles and a part of perky, floppy tits. His ass and thighs were blubbery and wide and with a fascinating texture of thick cellulite. Elliott rubbed it and jiggled it, fascinated, wondering how Omar programmed the nanobots to create cellulite. But what Elliott loved most about this program was that he still undeniably looked like himself. His face was fatter and with an adorable double chin, but it was definitely him. He could imagine himself getting lazy and being spoiled by a dotting boyfriend, slowly softening and widening, filling out, looking… Exactly like this. Elliott rushed to where he dropped the shopping bags after arriving home. He rummaged through them and found a pink t-shirt and a pair of baby blue basketball shorts that would be just the slightest bit too small for this spoiled little piggy. 

The shorts were digging into his soft love handles and fit very snuggly around his cellulite-ridden thighs, the shirt was obscenely tight, digging into his flabby upper arms and riding up his soft belly. 

Heart hammering hard with excitement, Elliott snapped a photo of himself from a low angle, featuring a sliver of underbelly and highlighting his double chin perfectly. 

Elliott: Testing your programs

He sent the message along with the photo to Omar. 

Omar: What a cute little piggy. But bigger suits you better…

Elliott groaned as the mere thought of being bigger sent a shiver of pleasure through him. He fondled his fat flabby gut as he scrolled through the other programs. 

One called “Apron” caught his attention. He had a sneaking suspicion of what that could mean, but there was no better option than to try for himself. 

Taking off the clothes so as to not destroy them in the process, Elliott activated the new program. His body bloomed and unfolded into new, soft shapes like a flower in the morning sun. It was big, it was heavy, he could already tell even before the nanobots finished their job. Getting to the mirror was way harder and took an arousingly long time as he waddled and huffed his way across the room. 

He was enormous, bigger than his biggest setting from the previous day. As he suspected, the name of the program referred to the belly settings; it was amazingly fat, soft and heavy, hanging in front of him almost to his knees, like a massive flesh apron. Although most of the weight seemed to have been placed in his belly, the rest of the body was nothing to frown about. Jiggly, swollen arms, not one but two rolls of fat under his chin. His ass was wide and drooping with the sheer weight of it. The overstuffed legs looked like shapeless sacks of flower and they jiggled with the slightest movement he made. 

He sent another photo to Omar.

Omar: Are you hard under all that blubber, big boy?

Oh, Elliott was hard, alright. He didn’t even know it was possible to be so hard. And the fact that he couldn’t even attempt to reach his dick didn’t bother him in the slightest. It was, quite frankly, the opposite of a problem. 

PART 1

[xochosoxo]

missed calls ✮ | k. nanami

nanami x fem reader

summary: youre a new student at jujutsu high and you cant help but be curious about your blonde haired classmate

warnings: a lil bit of fluff, minor angst etc, mentions of death (yu haibara)

a/n: hii i hope you enjoy this lil fic i made!! i luv nanami with my entire heart. to be honest i havent written this much in so long so bear w me >-< also i didnt really read the jjk manga, just watched the anime so if some of it is canonically incorrect, just know i just searched some stuff up LMAO! enjoy!!

as you step into the building of tokyo jujutsu high, you could feel your stomach sinking farther down than it already was.

obviously, going to a new school was gut wrenching already, but going to a new school filled with sorcerers, probably way above your skill level, was even more so.

so when gojo, geto and shoko saw you walk into the building, they could already sense your nerves.

gojo leans closer to his two companions. "she seems..." but he couldnt finish his sentence due to shoko clearing her throat.

"welcome to jujutsu high." shoko says, greeting you with a non-chalant tone.

"oh thank you." you fake smile, surpressing the urge to leave the building right then and there. you stare at the three. "im y/n."

gojo smirks, walking towards you. you feel intimidated as he got closer to you.

he grabs the luggage you had been dragging behind you, giving you a small smile. "im gojo." he points to the other. "thats geto."

geto, who you note had his hair in a tight bun, one strand lose from its restraint. he gives you a wave.

you wave back, feeling a bit less unsettled. they werent as intimidating as you thought they would be.

the three students showed you around the school, first stopping by your dorm to drop off your things.

after that, they continued the tour, bringing you to meet their teacher, show you the classrooms, as well as the training field.

the four of you stay a bit and watch those who were practicing.

there were two guys on the field. one with straight brown hair and one with with blonde hair parted to the side. they were both fairly tall.

it looks as though they had finished up their training the moment you, shoko, gojo and geto stopped to watch.

The brunette greets you, waving as he walks towards your group. "hi you must be the new student. im yu haibara!"

meanwhile, his blonde companion ignorses the group entirely, passing you by walking right around you.

gojo tried to get the indviduals attention. "nanam-" but is cut off.

"no thanks." the blonde haired guy says, walking farther away.

gojo sighs as geto and shoko quietly snort. you turn to them, confused.

she explains. " nanami is the same year as you. as well as haibara." she pauses, looking at yu as he confirms this with a simple smile. "nanami kinda just keeps to himself most of the time."

you nod, acknowledging that new information.

the group, now made up of five people, continue the tour, the blonde boy still present in your memory.

after that small interaction, all nanami could think of was you.

he had watched you walk around with his upperclassmen as he trained.

and obviously he's not gonna embarass himself trying to form a full sentence when youre looking at him with the most kissable lips ever. so he walks away, avoiding the whole group entirely.

when night falls, shoko hints to you about how the gang is gonna sneak out to shibuya to do some late shopping.

obviously, you were down. you packed a small bag and met up with the group.

there was geto, gojo, yu, shoko and surprisingly, nanami.

walking through shibuya, you cant help but be oh so curious about the mystery man.

he didnt seem cold, just distant. like he was reluctant about everything.

in nanami's mind, he feared that his blush was too noticable.

he couldnt stop looking at you.

the way you walked, the way your hair looks in the light of the electronic billboards.

it was like you had put him in a trance.

he didnt belive in love at first sight. but man, maybe does now.

after a few missions together, you and nanami are inseperable.

you would talk, he would listen.

he would bring you your fave ice cream when you felt down and vise versa.

he even went out of his way to buy you the essentials for when your period comes.

shoko, gojo, geto and yu are shocked. never have they seen their negative friend so caring and gentle before. you had brought out another side of him.

when they would try to confront nanami about it, he would deny it. but deep down, he knew what was going on.

he was completely enamoured by you.

he couldnt get enough of you.

he hoped that it would stay like this forever.

however when nanami and yu are called to assist geto and gojo with protecting riko amenai, the star plasma vessel, something changes.

even before the mission, nanami came to you and complained how it wasnt a suitable mission for the first years.

but since yu was excited, he went with it anyway.

when nanami comes back from the mission, he comes alone.

yu had died during the mission.

this changed the course of your relationship with him. nanami became non confrontational. it was like how he was when you first met him.

the two of you go through the rest of your years at jujutsu high, a very obvious awkward tension keeping you both from talking to each other as much as you used to.

when you heard the news that nanami was leaving after graduation, you were obviously hurt. you tried to change his mind with tears in your eyes.

you knew it was selfish of you to try to convince him to stay and but it was no use anyway. he no longer wanted to become a sorcerer.

he couldnt bear to look at you. he didnt want to see how hurt you were because of him.

all the better reason to leave.

but when he left, his guilt followed right after.

yu's death..and you.

he started to despise society once again. he was alone once again.

for a few years, nanami works as a salaryman, but eventually came back to pursue his career as a jujutsu sorcerer.

he had hoped to see you once again, but when he subtly asked gojo about you, he told him that you became a teacher with him but was on leave, travelling for over a year and wouldnt be back for a while.

however, when nanami comes to mentor gojo's new student, yuji, nobody had told him you had come back from your travels.

you and gojo sat in the staff room, talking about your newest student and how you plan to deal with this change as nanami walks in.

"satoru." he says while opening the doors to the room. "i have a few ques-" he immediatley pauses, making eye contact with you.

you gasp quietly.

"hello y/n." nanami greets you sternly, taking a seat beside gojo.

"how have you been?"

a/n: sorry for the super rushed ending its late at night rn lol. i will be making a part two at some point so be sure to look out for that!!

thanks for reading!!

[linesonscreens]

Let's Read Peanuts (You WILL believe an unremarkable white boy can become president) – April 1958

There are lots of great strips I just don't have room to comment on. I strongly encourage everybody to read the full month at the official GoComics page. Today's month starts HERE.

April 2, 1958

Children, please. Your Dads are both middle aged men living in America during the 1950s. They BOTH have a dogshit understanding of foreign policy.

April 4, 1958

Oh my GOOOOD, shut the hell up and ask one of your many, many friends for an umbrella or something.

April 6, 1958

I wonder if this was an intentional callback to that earlier strip from a while back? Either way, that panel rules.

April 10, 1958

OK, so apparently High Fidelity (or Hi-Fi) sound was really taking off around this time. It was basically just a mishmash of various new recording techniques and electronic gizmos that let you have a much more authentic and clear sound than was previously possible.

I guess advertisers were miss-applying the term a lot? Schulz certainly dedicated a lot of strips to the topic this month so it must have been fairly annoying.

April 16, 1958

New baseball arc! Linus continues to be low-key terrifying.

April 20, 1958

Being around Charlie Brown while he’s trying to fly a kite must be like being a side-character in some sort of PG-rated Final Destination movie. 

April 26, 1958

Proof that the problem has always been Charlie Brown’s managerial skills. Which makes when you realize that his team is a pack of superhuman freaks who should be constantly crushing their competition. 

Overall a good arc. The jokes are solid and it’s got a nice twist that I only saw coming because these strips are woven into the American psyche on a subatomic level.

April 30, 1958

God damn, kid.

Thoughts:

This is one of those months you really want to go and read all of if you’ve only been following what I post (which you shouldn't be! Shame on you!). I had to whittle out an unusually large number of strips this month and I feel bad because there were some real gems in there.

God I wish I could just comment on every single strip sometimes. Damn you, copyright laws!

[linkemon]

Miya Chinen (selfship)

Selfship was made for okamirou on Wattpad.

You can check my Masterlists both in English and Polish here. Consider supporting me on Ko-fi. You can also check out my commissions if you’re interested. Other selfships can be found here.

~ You met Miya when he started first grade at a new school. He was sitting alone in a desk and you, being the life of the party, decided to start a conversation. At first, he wasn't very talkative but that changed pretty quickly. Mainly because you also knew how to value silence.

~ You used to listen to music and drift off to very boring subjects. Sometimes he would join in even though he had to give up his headphones. You exchange favourite songs.

~ Your laziness is evident in the fact that you do your homework late at night. The boy usually joins you and you ponder over your homework together. He does best in math, so if you need help, he'll text you back but nothing more. He's no good at explaining. He has no patience.

~ You guys argue quite often. It's usually just minor arguments like what kind of food you think is better. Last time you were there to check it out, poor Joe cooked you an Italian meal for free because he couldn't stand you.

~ Being called a slime is commonplace.

~ You visit animals very often. Chinen loves cats. You bought yourself a hoodie with cat ears to match him. His reaction when you first put it on was priceless. He wanted you to take it off because someone would think you were a couple. He blushed and quickly skateboard away.

~ He totally understands that you spend a lot of time on electronic devices. He himself never goes anywhere without his phone and carries his console everywhere. He'll happily talk to you about a new anime episode or game.

~ He doesn't mind watching horror movies. He's ready at any time just to prove he's not scared. However, you see that he sometimes jumps at the sight of monsters. You want him to keep coming so you pretend not to see the popcorn scattered all over the couch.

~ He gets jealous of your attention. You really admire his new friends, especially Langa. Miya once grabbed your hand and pulled you away from them, claiming he was way cooler.

~ Miya tried to discourage you from skateboarding. He would sometimes make nasty remarks. It was all caused by a situation from the past. One time you simply said that either he would stop or your friendship would end. You didn't talk to each other for a few days. Chinen couldn't take it anymore and went to the guys for advice. Then he went straight to you and apologized. He was afraid that you would become like his old friends and leave him as soon as you realized that you were much worse than him.

~ After that incident, he took you to the zoo as an apology. At first, he pretended to be an adult but as soon as he got to the section where you could pet the animals, his childish nature came out. He only got angry when a llama spat on him and you had to quickly run home so he could change his shirt.

~ You laughed at him, so he got really angry. To make up for it, you bought him a cake at the cat cafe. He really liked it and it felt like a date but there was no way he would tell you that.

~ He complains about your clumsiness but tries to catch you as much as possible in case you walk into a pole because you were lost in thought on your way home from school. He'll usually say "I told you so."  if he warned you about something and you failed.

~ He has no qualms about taking advantage of your artistic soul. If he changes something in the design of the board, he will come to you to design something. Then together you will go to DOPE SKETCH to look at paint colours and circles.

~ Miya is reluctant to admit to others that he likes you. Recently, his mother has started asking him about you and he defends himself with arms and legs that you are just a friend. However, when he goes to bed after the races, he remembers your face full of admiration after winning. He himself does not know exactly what this feeling is yet but he likes it very much...

[random-townie]

The Earth is McFlatt - CC Free Single Sim Household

CC free / 8 packs used

You can always download any Sim. Some items will be missing if you don't have particular pack/kit. Simply restyle them in CAS with EA packs/CC you own.

Download: Google Drive - Ko-Fi *free*

Unpack all the files to your ...\Documents\Electronic Arts\The Sims 4\Tray

EA Gallery ID: nunita

Gallery household name: The Earth is McFlatt

Keep in mind MCCC imports only the Sims basic appearance. Age, traits, skills, jobs - all will be randomized/gone. Move them to an empty lot, evict and move to Other Households for them to stay as intended.

❤️If you download my files, please cheer me up and leave a comment or like ❤️ Edit and reupload if you wish, but don't claim as yours - be kind and tag me instead, I'd love to see them ❤️

🛸

👽 Jimmy's home and Sandtrap bar finished lots will follow in the next couple of days 👽

Jimmy is... something. That's for sure. Everybody in Oasis Springs knows Jimmy or at least heard of him. Or about his blog "The Earth is McFlatt".

Jimmy lives a peculiar lifestyle. His cabin in Bedrock Strait looks like he handcrafted it himself - which he obviously did. Can't trust nobody - he says. He prefers to stay off the grid, but neighbors swear they can see the computer screen shining through the window of his wooden bungalow. And there is also that satellite dish he tried to hide in the bushes... It's better to stay away from his place, really, not that Jimmy likes any visitors.

Before becoming a writer Jimmy lived from nectar making, a little source of income and happiness. His juice was good, but oh boy, the stories he had to tell - they were even better. That's how he suddenly got his first real job with a paycheck. His boss accidentally overheard him talking to himself about the mind controlling aliens, Sixam planet and abductions by flying saucers. Jimmy's stories were so awesome that he offered him a position of a blogger to write all of that down, share with people and make money off of it!

Reluctant at first, Jimmy agreed to the offer and that's how "The Earth is McFlatt" began. Sims all over the SIMNation just LOVED it.

Sudden popularity didn't change Jimmy much. He still lives in his old cabin, making nectar in the basement, researching and writing at nights. He didn't regret it for a single moment though and was inspired by his readers to open a club of like-minded Sims and together expose the alien conspiration. Now that even the Oasis Spring's Daily wrote an article about it the candidates for Jimmy's newest endeavor will for sure be queuing at the Sandtrap Den bar.

👽

Jimmy is ready to add some spice and drama to your game. You can play with him and explore his story further or make him a new, interesting Not-So Random Townie for your Sims to meet.

He has multiple outfits, job, likes and dislikes, extra traits and skills etc. related to his lifestyle to give him some deeper personality.

Unfortunately, the Clubs settings doesn't get saved together with a Sim who is a club leader, so Jimmy will be clubless in your game. You can ignore it, create one based on the picture below or follow your own idea.

Jimmy is the first official resident of Bedrock Strait, OS, in my save file, but you can have him in your game too.

[phoenixfire-thewizardgoddess]

Concept - Radiation

Old televisions and radio give off radiation, right?

Consider the idea that Vox recognised their dangerous potential after he fell, having heard about some more up to date research in his time. Given that he was from the 'atomic age' where scientists were crafting atom bombs, young boys could do 'science' with their very own kits in the home with actual uranium, fun new gadgets and doodads were being marketed for the home, television was overtaking radio, and many of the television shows were about sci-fi and the stars.

It wasn't an immediate thing, either. He'd been so caught up in having a television for a face, that even the distraction of Alastor's... everything, wasn't enough to snap the media darling and rising overlord out of his own head (hah) long enough to realise what they were doing.

Of course, the two of them together made it worse. Plants wilted quickly, much to the obvious dismay of Alastor who always adored his own little garden, and Vox never knew what to say to console the blood thirsty nightmare... because it wasn't like he'd had much luck around it too. Plants just didn't seem to like him.

And food would just... go off, quickly. The refrigerator wasn't the best, not at first at least... rising overlords had souls but not always money. They had Enough, but, well... they were rommates for a reason. A place where the door had a lock and the toilet didn't try to immolate you on flush, cost a pretty penny... even with the 'Discount because I think you'll eat me otherwise' from the landlord.

Rosie had offered them a place in Cannibal Town, but the pair were too independent to consider it just yet. It felt rather like... ah, like returning to live with a parent. She was a lovely, nightmarish queen... but there was a streak of Mother Knows Best to that overlord a mile wide. She would be kind about it, but... well.

In either case, the food spoiled rapidly. Vox assumed it was normal, because Alastor seemed to think it was, he'd never known different. They'd taken to shopping daily (or at least had a rotating system of thralls do a grocery run each day and delivering the food) which was working. Leftovers sometimes made it to the next day.

And things wore out... quickly. That was annoying. Clothes, furniture, the apartment... it was like living in a world made of cardboard with how flimsy it all seemed. It wasn't immediate, but you noticed things seemed... hmmm.

And occasionally, some of the other apartments had a bit of a turnover. Someone got too sick. Vox and Alastor originally put it down to sick with fear from being in the proximity of Overlords. Really stroked the ego.

But, as time wore on, Vox started to put things together. The longer he and Alastor remained close, the sharper his headaches got, the more frequently the nausea and food avoidance struck, the more prominent Alastor's skeleton became, the harder it was to see at time without fuzz overtaking their vision. Little things...

And then there was the... well, the glow.

They'd thought it was just a sinner-form thing. Being part tv and part radio always meant the pair were inclined to electrical issues, sometimes they glowed, sometimes their ambient static could short out electronics. Just how things were. The static and manipulation of radiowaves was fun, at least.

But after a while, Vox began to realise things in the apartment started to take on that glow. Rosie pointed it out when she visited once, frowning at it and mentioning that unless they'd specifically imbued it with magic, then no... this wasn't natural.

And that's when he realised the inherent dangers of what they were.

He'd tried to express to Alastor the dangers, and got the anticipated backlash from the Radio Demon, who hated the idea that Vox could be telling the truth. Oh, he was mildly delighted at the idea he could inadvertently murder sinners with enough contact... but the idea that he couldn't control this ability, that it was harming Vox, and Rosie and anyone in contact with them too regularly... that pissed him off.

After a rather lengthy rampage, Alastor settled and slumped at the table. Asking his closest male friend and confidant what the devil they were going to do about it?

And Vox had grinned, "The Devil you say?"

See, there was a very unique and hard to aplpy for program, through the palace. Or at least, it was... until the last century or so, when there were rumours of issues in royal household. Sinners who fell with forms that were deemed environmentally hazardous enough could request, through the most obscene amount of documentation either man had ever seen in their lives or what came after, to have their forms assessed.

Applicants who were successful went to a panel of designated hellborn, mostly imps and hellhounds underneath a bored goetia or two, who could identify what was wrong. They were also, it must be sadly said, seen as expendable... what with the unpredictability of sinners before you even considered their inherent flaws.

Very few qualified, unless there was something notable. Often applicants would just be sinners infuriated with their forms and wanting something different instead. The sheer volume of those forms glutted the applications office, and therefore it took some time before the Overlords were seen.

In the interim, they tried anything that would make sense. Their combined output was impacting on others over time, the amount individually was negligible, mostly making people ill with exposure and not generally to the point of bleeding eyes, or balding. Well, not that they'd seen. And who hadn't vomited blood once in a while in hell, anyway?

Sinners were hardy things, and could heal over time as needed, even from radiation. Hellborn though, not so lucky.

Alastor found a tailor skilled in the art of runic protections, who was able to weave enchantments into their attire. Magically reinforcing, at the least, his gloves and coat, Vox's sweater and silly little hat. He couldn't get the television to wear gloves to reduce their touch, their accidental potential for harming others.

It wasn't forever, and the material eventually began to degrade as well, but it was something.

Vox was busy looking through any records they could get their hands on, scientific or magical to identify if there was another way, another option. They tried different spells and... nothing.

The television came up with a rather drastic solution. Alastor was wildly against it, pointing out that it was extremely dangerous and he wouldn't allow Vox to even try. Who would help him if Alastor refused?

But the palace was taking so long. Even when they finally had a review by the panel, all that was offered was some ridiculous little doodads and enchantments. Alastor received a staff to channel his ambient radiation through, though it would need to purge at least once per year... and Vox? He was given antennae, little red balls atop them, which seemed to channel the radiation away and across the airwaves in his bradcasts.

Alastor did point out that things were going well now. They had a way to, how did they say it, discharge the problem? Release it into the realm without the potential of murdering everyone by accident.

It also allowed for laser-focused precision in releasing the collated radiation, which made Alastor's Overlord hunting far more fun!

Vox... didn't feel it was enough. Vox was never satisfied. Not when food soured slower than before, but still didn't make it more than three days without liquifying into putrd mush. Not when he worried about every handshake, every clap on the back to a colleague he cared about, wondering if it was dooming them to agony.

Vox worried about Alastor, and how the man still had days he refused to eat when his bones were too sharp, and yet he couldn't stop throwing up. Vox worried for himself on the days he woke up so dizzy and weak he couldn't move, his bones aching and skin too tight.

How ridiculous to be trapped this way?

He couldn't do it anymore. Where Alastor revelled in this chaos; Vox saw it as a tether, holding him down. How could he be a sovereign if he couldn't ensure that the next day wouldn't be trapped in bed with a cool cloth over his throbbing eyes? How could he defend himself and others against threats?

How can he sit around watching passively as Alastor had days he couldn't even flick an ear until his sinner healing abilities kicked in. Not even freshly slaughtered sinner meat helping the other rouse from behind static-filled eyeballs. It was breaking Vox's heart to see the other like this, to know it was his fault...

Even if he didn't have these unfortunate feelings, even if he hadn't started to fall for the idiot and they were only friends, Vox knew this couldn't continue. He tried to raise the idea with Alastor again, and the other slammed it down. Furious.

"There's nothing wrong with us, we're making it work!" Alastor snarled, slamming a fist on the table. "You are perfect, I am perfectly content. There is only risk in seeking this course of action and I will not let you break yourself for a What If, for a Maybe with little returns!"

"Pfft, you said the same thing about going into business with Val, trust me!" Vox wheedles, trying hard not to get furious, because the sentiment hidden under the anger was en-deer-ing in the least. "Al, c'mon, please understand that if it works for me... it could for you too. We don't have to be like this... shackled by our own forms, and I won't have to watch you suffer because of ME! Of what I AM!"

The composure began to break, as the tears rolled down his blocky screen. "Please, let me try... you know I have everything worked out. The machines I built, that you've enchanted, the ones for emergency repairs... I might have reprogrammed them for this. And... and if it doesn't work, then I die and regnerate back to this. It'll-... it'll be fine."

"And you want me to watch you suffer? To watch you mutilate yourself for a Potential Future?" Alastor's voice drops the radiotone so swiftly it feels like a slap across the face, and sends Vox reeling.

"What? No, no I'll be offline, I can turn off my pain sensors, you know that. It would only look a bit freaky, but you don't have to watch, promise!" he capitulates, seeing where the worry is coming from. His heart breaks as he sees Alastor stiffen, straightening until he was a hair's breadth from transforming into something gargantuan. Looming over him as they locked eyes. A hand touched his casing, so gently.

"Vox... Picture Box... you are not broken, we are not broken. There's nothing to fix. I accept you as you are in all forms, and I would hope you felt the same." Alastor shudders, and Vox can see the tell-tale migraine starting for the other... the ambient noise is almost non-existent right now. "Do not go through with this... I will detroy the machine if I must, but I will not allow you to mutilate yourself for the sake of hypothetical others. We may be flawed, but it balances out between us, does it not??"

He sighs. "Al..."

Alastor snarls, the fingers turning to claws as they grabbed his face. "Then you leave me no choice, picture box... I will not let you break yourself for the sake of the faceless public. Even if I have to put you through the floor to gain access to the machine I w-..."

Vox feels a twinge as he exerts his power, feeling Alastor fight his hypnotic gaze, and hating that he had to resort to forcing the compulsion on the other. "Stop. It's okay... I need you to believe me that it's going to be okay, I planned it all out. Once I fix me, you'll see what I mean, you'll-... I hope... you will trust me to help you, then. Please don't be angry with me. Just... just go to sleep and when you wake up things will be better, okay?"

He catches the crumpling form as it sags, curling it close and inhaling through his vents that familiar scent of their shared soap, the spice from lunch, a hint of something woodlike, and an undercurrent of blood - of violence and viscera. He encodes it, deep in his memory core... alongside the memory of Alastor's height, the weight of him in his arms, and the slack, near-peaceful expression the other Overlord had as he was laid on the couch.

"It'll be okay Al. I'm going to fix this, because I can't keep killing you slowly... and I hope you don't want to see me die like that in return."

Vox turned to the small alcove room with the arranged machinery, clenching his fists in determination even as he slowly turned off nervous system sensors all over his body. "Okay... let's take a step into the future."

He didn't look back.

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

Alastor had been furious upon awakening to... a new Vox. A radiation-neutral Vox, but one so vastly different to HIS picture box, it seemed like... a stranger. No matter how Vox explained that the proceedure hadn't altered anything, that he was still in there, there was something about him, about his frequency, that rubbed Alastor wrong.

The sleek new screen was jarring to look at, for one. Vox had reassured that the optics had finally allowed him to see in colour, and immediately began to compare Alastor's colourful features to various types of flora and fauna. Which the Radio Demon allowed simply because he, too, had some limitations based on his hellform and sight, which he would likely experience joy about removing.

Ah, to see the colour red as intended, just once more...

It was the too familiar hand on his nape, the brush of confident fingers through his hair and the way Vox looked like he wanted to devour Alastor... that set the deer's internal alarms off. His picture box had had a crush, yes, but it had been fading back into friendship. This was... this was blatant, possessive, like Vox didn't recall boundaries.

And his static, the ambient radiowaves bounced back wrong.

Maybe this was who he'd always been underneath his limitations? Maybe something had happened in that awful little self-mutilation operation that had changed Vox? Had his sensors flickered back on when things had been half-open casing? Had he called for Alastor only to get silence in his pain? No, no Vox reassured that hadn't happened.

But... it was as if Alastor had woken to a new and bizarre world. This was, and was not, his Vox. For one, the other would never have had Alastor's head in his lap, stroking his ears, without express permission. And most importantly, would not have tried to practically climb into his lap like this... not without expecting to be shoved off.

It was only as Vox struck the floor that Alastor realised one eye was large, swirling, aiming right at him. His heart thundered in his throat, and the deer felt a betrayed, nauseous, fury scalding the back of his throat.

"You DARE?"

"Hey, hey I know change freaks you out I thought if I could just... help you see it was okay, take away that fear you have, about losing control. Because it's just me, okay? Just your Vox. And I'm trying to help."

But the static caressing his own was all wrong. Everything was all wrong... and the panic response set in.

Cables tried to pin him down, but Alastor dissolved into shadows, too full of conflicting emotions to even consider Fight. Manifesting back into his old radio tower to collapse to his knees in a confusing soup of fear and disgust and grief and rage and-... and-... well, And.

How could Vox do this to himself?

How could he assume Alastor was broken? how could he try to-... try to-... to force him like that?

What would become of Alastor if he also underwent whatever machinations Vox had in mind? No. No he could manage this alone.

He had before Vox, and he could after Vox.

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

Alastor managed.

His radiation, especially as a singular overlord, was only the smallest dose now his staff was helping... but even then, over time, it could have detrimental effects. It could weary even the staunch healing capacity of a sinner.

Alastor continued to refuse territory out of concern for his thralls. He knew it was ridiculous... why, he had a few on chains to keep them from doing anything Untoward given their sins in life, perhaps he should gather them up into an apartment and live there to keep them too unwell to do anything. Take advantage of his silliness.

Really, how no one else guessed at his little... issue, was laughable. His chains were a radioactive GREEN after all. He looked like the survivor of a rather nasty dose of radiation. And nothing lived long about him.

He'd even started to pick out the distinctive click of a geiger counter in his static, and it always made him think of that blasted Poe story about the tell-tale heart.

Well, it could be said that no one had the chance to put the pieces together except perhaps dear Rosie. She, it must be said, was very invested in the whole drama... and seeing if he'd ever agree to roommate with Susan. Alastor, despite loving the idea of finally taking the old wench out, couldn't imagine having to LIVE with her ornery nonsense for more than five minutes before he eviscerated her.

Alastor flitted between locations, never remaining anywhere too long. He lived with the constant concern of Vox, who had run off with that damned Moth to make VoxTech soemthing they'd never intended, telling all of hell about Alastor's little... issue.

In fact, every encounter since had been a vicious, bloody nightmare... but each and every time, he felt Vox Try to hypnotise him. The offer to join the Vees is always there, like some magnanimous favour... and it rankles the deer no end.

Vox seems to be losing patience with the other overlord with every rejection of his silly request. However, what did he expect?

If the change of head didn't make Vox seem unrecognisable, then this new... personality or whatever it was, Vox had once more changed into something that aligned with Valentino's brand. And it twanged at his own heart, making Alastor wonder if the only reason he and Vox had worked together was that the other had molded himself into a role that matched the Radio Demon.

He had liked that their individual personalities had matched, like a slightly bizarre teaset from an op shop. To imagine Vox had falsified it, even unconsciously, was... revolting, but in a way that hurt Alastor to think about. Like a stomach ache.

Vox was never given the chance to try is hand at nabbing the Radio Demon. Fights were dealt with, with minimal eye contact now.

Still, the wilder Alastor's emotions got, the worse he radiation got. It spiked at inconvenient times, these days... and the harder he attempted to hide the mess, the more stress he put on himself to fix the matter, and wouldn't you believe it? But it just so happened that that tended to exascerbate the issue. What a nasty little cycle!

At least little Niffty seemed immune.... or to enjoy the slight stinging sensation that came with prolonged contact. He was never quite sure. Husker, the dear sullen bastard, often complained about feeling ill whenever Alastor was around... claimed he was Bad Luck and it followed him.

And then, there was salvation. Something about his application had triggered interest from above... and the Queen, personally, answered his request for aide through appearing in his Radio Tower one day. Thankfully they were just moving into an hour long music section because his startled bleat-swear noise might have broken glasses all over hell for the pitch if his microphone had been live.

-----revision of story in progress-----

He never stays anywhere too long. Always flitting about, except at the hotel, but the bayou can absorb some of the radiant magic and radiation over time. If it gets too toxic, alastor purges it and reverts the whole wetland to original formats.

And then there was Lillith, who saw potential and the chance to hold a means of broadcasting herself across the rings, in her grasp.

She offered mystical support to contain his issue, to manage the degredation. She would not ask him to stop using it as a weapon of last resort, when he took out overlords. Allowing his radiation to concentrate and emanate.

Disintegrating his defeated enemies into atoms that he drew inside his mangled core. Their screams ringing through hell.

She offered mystical support and knowledge... if only he would trust her fully, allow her ownerahip of his soul. Lillith seemed so sincere, her words overrode his matural scepticism and wariness in a way that to this day alastor couldnt really explain.

He likes to think she used her song. It was equally likely that perhaps desperation to not always be alone drove him to agree.

He never realised she could fulfil her promise and also fund a way to make him far worse than before. To push it until his core held the potential for detonation... if she willed it.

Alastor didnt think she would risk her daughter like that but lillith had laughed. Charlotte could live through a blast, hell wouldnt.

When adam hit him, he thought this would be the moment of vaporisation especially with his staff gone. He fled, hoping to avoid discovery by opportunistic sinners or anyone he may fractionally care about the welfare of, less durable than others.

Husker might be the best bet, his Luck and the protective sigils on his cufflinks would keep him safe long enough. As needed.

But no. Lucifer finds him, how revolting!

Charlotte sent the man whose face is immediately hardened by the discovery. Even moreso after he bats aside what paltry resistence alastor can muster and laid hands on the wound.

Crimson eyes flick up coldly.

He asks why Lillith had made him a living weapon. Alastor has no answer. The king mitigates what he can but refuses a deal gor secrecy.

He tells Charlotte and tries to force alastorfrom the property. It is fair... but lilliths deal compels him to remain.

Chatlotte, bless her heart, tries to find a happy medium in the same vein of dangerous optimism that led.to her confronting Valentino.

She goes to Vox. He is only too pleased to help, he had a plan and the tech to accomplish it.

Charlotte is a terrible.liar, but Lucifer is easily able to capture and sedate the healing overlord despite his.protests. Lillith yanking his chain the whole time to force an explosion.

The person who wakes is not quite himsrlf. His mind is different, his body altered. No longer radioactive but also not... himself.

He knows Vox has tampered with his mind when he was out because his mouth moves without his say so. His body allows vox closer than it should, and twines their signals effortlessly.

He doesnt know time anymore but the pain is gone. At some point he dropped from the hotel and joined the vees. When?

His collar yanks at him every moment he is away from prying eyes, but alastor can do nothing about it.

The one time he recalls seeing Charlotte after, he knows her entreaties to come home were met with silence. Vox has been building up to a deal... wanting it official. Wanting Him.

Salvation is far away. If only lillith could wummon him and purge whatever this was. If only the little king wasnt so hellbent on their rivalry, he might be a source of support.

But no, one evening as he laid quietly and stared at the ceiling of his tooblue room, unable to sleep and yet he could do nothing else as hed been sent to rest...

Someone slipped into his room. Alastor wanted to stiffen, having long since prepared himself for the day voxs restraint snapped and he qas the centre of the picture box's more amorous attentions. Thr activity could be pleasant with the right person but, he had never felt the pull of it. The need as others did.

He knew it was a matter of time.

But no, a battered looking silhouette arrived hissing into their phone. The horrified look on Angels face as he stared at Alastor was sickening, the pity cloying in the air.

He wanted to scream.

Angel props him upright, getting no resistence and yet no help. The atarlet swears, tries goading the other into rwaction, but Vox never gave Alastor any leeway in the command. Fuck this was humiliating.

A shimmering portal appears beside the pair and Angel carries Alastor through, bemoaning how heavy he was for a twig. At least, alastor hopes he said twig.

Charlie is in tears, sobbing apologies at him desperately as Angel puts him on a bed. Was this his room in the new hotel? Why had they bothered?

Angel mentions the lack of response, and shudders. The king, ah damn it all Lucifer is here, moves to the spider first to heal whatever is making the other wheeze so dreadfully.

Then he comes for Alastor, with a sharp jab at how they didnt really need to fix anything did they? Not when bambi had learned to shut up and do what hes told now?

All alastor can manage is a heated glare, venemous and trying to throw the hypocrisy of such a sentiment back at the king. Did the angel do what he was told or rebel, hmmm?

Lucifer apologies.when Charlie sobs harder and admonishes him.

He puts his hand to Alastor's brow and then everything falls away. Likely they might need to carve components out... hes been braves for it. What favour would he owe them for this alleged kindness?

When he wakens, the very reality of being able.to move his fingers of his own volition was slmost enough to make him weep for joy. He did t of course, big bad scary overlord image and all.

Ruined immediately as Charlotte and Niffty dogpile him.

He is reverted as best one can and Lucifer reversed some of Lilliths tinkering. Hed then carefully changed some of the enwrgy signatures to void his body of radiation. Something about clean fusion thst didnt make sense, but it meant he wouldnt kill those around him if exposed for more than a day.

Cautiously, he touched a flower in a vase by the bed... and it remained hale. Ah, delightful!

Feeling much better, he asked after the saviour of the hour... and immediately shadowed back to vee tower in search of the recalled starlet.

What followed was brutal, bloody and satisfying. The entertainment district was in ruins and what little remaine d of the overlords qould regenerate on his chains.

Primarily out of confusion, alastor fres vals souls. He had no idea what to do with them anyway... and releases Angel. Deftly avoiding a thankyou kiss by summoning husker in front of him in time.

Why, this had been quite a strange day.

He still needed to speak with Charlotte and the King about their role in his enforced captivity... but, that could wait a moment.

For now, he contented himself in watching the last of vee tower collapses into burning rubble as soft jazz filled the air.

---

Etc

[drakyns]

notes for modern verse håkan for when I'm finally Not too lazy and find a sexy fc for him:

biker. cliché but it works so well! he probably made his very own motorcycle, designed and meticulously made it in a workshop (gobbers, more likely) or had the parts commissioned from specialised factories. he was the one that assembled his bike, and knows every single little wire, where it goes and what it does. he calls it "birger" (old norse name for "helper", "protector"). people think it's his funny way of saying "bike". he loves to upgrade birger and fix it up whenever he thinks there's an issue. it's a black and very sleek model, enough to cause envy on most enthusiasts.

icelandic (with some maternal roots in sweden, maybe?). most certainly went abroad. visits regularly. astrid and the others went with him, too (studies, work or also finding themselves). they got interested into biking, and he also designed some vehicles for them. accidental biker gang kinda thing. "berkians".

pagan! not at all baptised. follows ásatrú/old norse paganism beliefs to this day. his father is the biggest influence on him in that.

byname/nickname "hiccup".

he has a black cat named toothless. he lost his leg while saving toothless from an accident, and toothless lost his tail. it's okay, though! they have matching bits.

prosthetic leg. looks very sci-fi. upgrades it himself as well.

profession-wise, he's into the engineering field. he's regarded as brilliant when it comes to mechatronics and electronical engineering, the hardest fields to master. has no formal academic degree or titles, however he's constantly invited to universities to offer workshops or classes. he could easily educate a post-grad group.

works at at a workshop or has his own. probably has a blacksmithing forge in it, so extra that he is.

tattoos. so many tattoos. one around his forearm, another one on his chest (showing up to his neck), another on his prosthetic leg's thigh, another on his back. meanings vary significantly.

wears glasses for reading up close.

multilingual.

[queen-of-deans-booty]

Halt & Catch Fire: Final Part

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2.3k

Warnings: canon angst and violence, extra angst

Summary: You're done being a puppet in their plans. You're done letting them control you. You're finally going to take back your life by becoming something you didn't know was possible. your eyes are opened to something better and God forbid anyone who disrespects you.

Season Ten Masterlist

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Supernatural. All credit goes to their respective owners. I love seeing any and all comments <3

x

Dean locks up behind Sam and Delilah yarns tiredly.

"You getting tired?"

"No, I'm used to it. I stay up all night studying. It is mostly to avoid the nightmares. My mom's thrilled with my GPA, but I'm just miserable. I think about Andrew all the time, and I've never even met the guy."

"This is what you get for leaving the scene of a crime. Idiotic move is what it was."

"Watch it," Dean glares at you but you flip him off.

"It's pretty crazy to obsess over someone you've never met."

"It's not that crazy. The truth is, I can relate. I have made more mistakes than I can count. Ones that haunt me day and night." He immediately turns to you. "I don't need to hear it."

You put your arms up in defense and turn away from him.

"How do you deal?" Delilah asks.

"Whiskey. Denial. I do my best to make things right, whatever that may be. For you, maybe it's coming clean. You know, finding a way to ask for forgiveness and not breaking the bank at your local florist. I mean real forgiveness. You can't just bury stuff like this. You have to deal with it." His phone rings and he picks up Sam's call. "What do you have?"

"Dean, Andrew's not using power lines to move. He's using Wi-Fi."

"Come again?"

"The wires that electrocuted Andrew feed directly into a Wi-Fi tower right across the street."

"Even ghosts are online?"

"Apparently. It would explain the truck kill. Billy's cell must have been using the local Wi-Fi signal so Andrew's ghost must have just hopped on to Trini, the navigation app."

"Julie's death was by computer and Kyle's death was by stereo with wireless speakers."

"It makes sense, Dean. We're all just a bunch of electrical impulses, right? Whenever Andrew died, his impulses just transferred to another current. You got to get Delilah somewhere safe. Turn off all the routers in that Sorority."

"Yeah, sure, Sammy. We'll just kill the internet. Wait, can we?"

"No," you roll your eyes.

"Alright, how the hell are we gonna deal with the lawnmower man?"

"I have an idea. Do what I said. Stay safe. I'll call you back."

"Do you know where the routers are?" Dean asks when Sam hangs up.

"I have no idea."

Suddenly, the lights and her computer start flashing on and off. Looks like Andrew is here to play. Delilah is the last one. It gets so cold in the room that you can see your breath. Andrew's face, albeit burnt, appears on all electronic devices that connect to the internet. Delilah screams just as Dean starts smashing the devices one by one.

"Is that gonna work?"

"It's worth a try. I need you to turn off everything that's connected to Wi-Fi." Dean takes Delilah's phone and smashes both his and hers. "Give me your phone."

"Come on, this is the new one," you complain. Dean yanks it from your hand and smashes it. "You're getting me a new one.

"Fine. Let's go."

"Where are we going?"

You leave her dorm room and see Andrew showing up on every computer screen that you pass by. He won't let Delilah out of his sight.

"Someplace that doesn't have a Wi-Fi signal."

"Head to the basement. The reception sucks down there."

"Alright, go, go, go!"

When you finally get to the basement, Dean starts to salt the doors and windows.

"I thought the salt didn't work."

"Because of the Wi-Fi. There's no signal down here. There are no computers, tablets, or cell phones. Andrew can't bypass it. At least, I don't think he can. Just try to stay calm, alright?" Suddenly, something starts buzzing in the room. It sounds like a phone that's on vibrate. "What was that?"

"Sounds like a phone to me," you say.

Dean shoves his hands under the couch cushions only to find someone's cell phone in there. Andrew uses this to appear in the room so he can take vengeance on Delilah in person. Delilah screams and you turn to see Andrew in the room next to her. Dean approaches Andrew from behind but he smacks Dean into the pillar as hard as he can.

"Please don't kill me. We didn't mean to hurt you. It was an accident. I swear. If I could do it over again, I would have done the right thing!"

Andrew grabs Delilah's throat and starts to choke her out. You stand there and watch this happen for five seconds before Dean screams your name.

"Y/N!" You grab the iron poker and swing it through his body until he disappears and Delilah is saved. "Let's go."

"Where?"

The door is locked so there is no way of getting out of here if the ghost is using its powers on the door.

"Andrew, listen to me. You have every right to be pissed." Dean takes the cell phone he found and dials a message to Sam. "Take it from me, the more you kill, the crazier you'll get. The blood fuels the rage. So, it looks like to me you've got two choices. You can keep killing and become something that you won't recognize or you can move on cause that is the only thing that is gonna give you peace. So it's up to you, man. Pain or peace."

Andrew appears behind Dean and shoves him into the closet door, breaking it into pieces. He turns to Delilah but you speak up before he can hurt her.

"Some ghost you are," you scoff and he looks at you. "Getting revenge on kids? Lame." He goes after you but you duck out of the way easily. "Death by electrocution? Lame! Maybe it sparked some life into you."

Andrew appears in front of you and slams you against the wall. He wraps his hands around your throat, pushing the device further into your neck. Maybe he might be able to get it off for you. You're not scared of Andrew but you do become concerned at the thought of him killing you.

Thankfully, you don't have to know the answer to that because his wife's voice fills the room. You and Andrew look at Delilah who has the phone in her hand which has his wife's face on it. Sam must have FaceTimed to get her to speak to Andrew.

"Andrew? It's Corey. Please listen to me. You have to stop this. Revenge is hollow, and it's pointless. It won't bring you back. I should have said this earlier but I couldn't let go. Now, it's time for me to let go and for you to do the same. Please. I'm begging you." Andrew lets you go and turns to her. "Do this for me. Do it for us." He nods slightly. "Goodbye."

Apparently, this is enough for Andrew to find peace. He closes his eyes and disappears in a flash of white light.

In the morning, Sam and Dean bring Delilah to Corey's house so she can talk to her and seek forgiveness.

"Looks like Andrew wasn't the only one who chose peace."

"Yeah, looks like. I think I'm gonna follow his lead, too."

"What do you mean?"

"My peace is helping people and working cases. I can't do that with this thing on my arm. I can't do that with my wife being the way she is. If I stay down this path, it'll be my downfall and I'll bring her with me." Dean looks at you who is across the street on your phone. You're absentmindedly picking at the device on your neck while looking at your phone. "I have to find this cure. If not for me, for her."

"Cas is so close to finding Cain. He has to know of a way."

"I believe there is a way. You said it yourself. You got through the literal devil and made it out alive. There's a way and we're going to do whatever we can to find it."

"What if she won't take it?"

"We'll make her. You should have seen her when we first met Cain. She was so determined to take it with me. I shouldn't have let her."

"You know her losing her soul isn't your fault."

"How is it not?" Dean asks with tears in his eyes. "Tell me how this is not my fault."

"Whether she had the Mark or not, she would have been soulless either way."

"Yeah, because I took it from her. Do you want me to be honest? I'm scared I'm gonna wake up one day and she'll be gone. I'm scared that when we finally do shove her soul back in her, it'll be too late."

"You don't have to shoulder this burden alone," Sam says and places his hand on Dean's shoulder. "We're going to find this cure. We'll cure you both."

"Thanks," Dean whispers.

He looks at you again and prays to God you don't get any worse.

You don't care if they have a remote that will activate your shock machine. You're leaving this Bunker tonight with or without their permission. As soon as you get back, you pack a bag as light as you can carry. You'll get more stuff along the way. Where will you go? You're not sure but it sure as hell isn't going to be here.

Sam and Dean are in the library when you walk past them into the war room.

"Where are you going?"

"Parading all over the country is not what I want to do. I'm sick and tired of you two controlling me. I'm done." You turn to face them by the base of the metal stairs. "I'm leaving and I'd really like to see you try and stop me."

Dean takes the remote out of his hand but you're a step ahead of him. You swiftly take out your gun and point it at him. Sam freezes in his steps because he's nervous you're actually gonna start shooting.

"What are you gonna do?"

"You can't press the button if you're dead."

"Do it. You're not leaving this Bunker."

Your finger twitches against the trigger like you're going to pull it. Then you see Sam with wide eyes and you know that if you kill his brother, all you're asking for is a Winchester up your ass. You'd rather not spend your entire life running from one of them. Instead, you aim at the remote and shoot. The remote explodes into pieces and Dean jumps back from the shock.

"What are you gonna use now?" you smirk.

You turn to the stairs but both Winchesters jump into action. They run out in front of you, effectively blocking your way.

"You might have a chance with one of us but not both," Dean glares.

"Oh? Just because you're big and tall, you think you'd win in a fight against me?" you scoff and take a step back.

"You've relied on magic all your life. You're not as good a fighter as we are."

You smirk and toss your bag and gun to the side. "If I beat you two, I leave."

"If you don't?" Sam asks.

"Back to the dungeon I go, and I won't fight you anymore on this cure for the Mark."

Sam and Dean look at each other before lunging at you. You see their moves coming from a mile away. While Sam and Dean are fighting to subdue you, you're fighting to kill. You have nothing to lose. They have everything to lose.

Sam swings his hand to punch you but you grab it at the last second and twist it behind him. Dean comes running at you two so you kick his ass and they go crashing into each other. Dean is the first one up and runs at you. He grabs you from behind thinking he got you but you're two steps ahead of him. You let them believe he got you so when Sam comes over, you kick off his chest and swing over Dean. You land on the floor and punch Dean to the ground, almost breaking his jaw.

The problem with the Winchesters is you're too damn flexible for them. You roundhouse kick Sam in the face, and he sprays a line of blood as he goes down. They start to think you might win this so they have to pick up their game or you will kill them. Dean ignores the pain in his jaw as he grabs one of the chairs and smacks you in the back.

You crumble to the ground in a grunt of pain. He and Sam grab you on either side and refuse to let you go. You struggle as hard as you can to get away from them but it's looking like you might lose this fight. The more you struggle, the more you get angry. The more you get angry, the more your Mark flares and burns. The metaphorical pot inside your body is bubbling over, and the only thing fueling it is the Mark.

"Let me go!" you yell.

"Admit it! You lost this one!" Dean grunts.

"Let go of me!"

"You lost, Y/N, just give it up!" Sam yells.

"I said. LET. GO!"

Bright red magic explodes out from all sides of you, causing Sam and Dean to go flying into the walls behind them. The entire war room is covered in a red hue, and you look down at your hands to see red magic flow out of them. The power you feel right now is so... exhilarating. Your Mark is burning so much but it's the good kind of pain. The kind of pain you crave. The kind of power you crave.

You look at the brothers with an evil smirk. They're too scared to do anything. They know you've fallen over the edge. There is no coming back from this. You lift the brothers with your magic and fling them so hard into the wall again that it cracks from the pressure. Both of them are too weak to do anything which is exactly what you want.

You reach up and peel off the device from your neck like it's a goddamn sticker.

"You don't control me anymore. I win. I'm leaving. If you want to try and stop me, well, you can't. No one can," you laugh.

You grab your bag and head to the metal stairs.

"This isn't you!" Sam yells loudly. You pause by the stairs but don't face him. "You're the Sapphire Witch! You help people!"

"Honey, the Sapphire Witch is dead."

"Yeah? Then what are you?"

You face the brothers with a smirk and bright red eyes.

"I'm the Scarlet Witch."

x

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary​​​​​​ where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

[corpocyborg]

Tag Game: Top 10 Albums

I love tag games, but I'm always hesitant to start my own. (Which doesn't really make sense, 'cause, I mean, they gotta start somewhere, right? 😂) So I decided to start one!

Anyway, I've seen a ton of these going around about music, and I was thinking, we've all got our favorite songs, but it's a rare and beautiful thing to find an entire album where you can vibe with every (or almost every) track. With that in mind...

Rules: List your top 10 favorite albums, and (if you want) include a brief description for why each one made it onto the list. Then, tag 10 (or however many you want, really) others to do the same.

Tagging: @merge-conflict, @fereldanwench, @halliserres, @milkywayes, @illusivesoul, @ghostoffuturespast, @luvwich, @kirschewine, @mirandaputsherbestbuttforward, and @andrewknightley.

My 10 Ten Albums

#1 Coral Fang (2003) - The Distillers

Reasons: Every few years, I rediscover this album and remember that it's my favorite album of all time. Brody Dalle's voice is harsh, deep, raspy, melodious, and emotional. The instrumentals are high octane and immersive. This album is a beating heart to me. It's feral.

#2 Fantastic Planet (1996) - Failure

Reasons: Failure's my favorite band of all time. My favorite album from them is Fantastic Planet. It's industrial, grunge, and shoegaze all in one package. With a sci-fi theme to boot, and a otherworldly soundscape. This band is extremely underrated. They really should be up there with the other greats of the 90s.

#3 Bleed Out (2022) - The Mountain Goats

Reasons: I think this is the newest album on my list, which is kinda funny. John Darnielle is my favorite songwriter of all time. His lyrics are deeply wonderful and quirky and disturbing. It's hard to pick a favorite album by The Mountain Goats, but the dark, violent, and insightful film noir theme of this one really does it for me.

#4 Light Me Up (2010) - The Pretty Reckless

Reasons: I haven't listened to this one in a bit, but it's mostly just because I've heard it about a billion times since I was 15. It's an iconic part of my teenage years. Taylor Momsen is literally my favorite vocalist of all time. Her voice never fails to impress me.

#5 With Teeth (2005) - Nine Inch Nails

Reason: It was hard to pick my preferred NIN album because I've never heard a song by them that didn't instantly rewire my brain and become my new favorite song. Actually, it was a toss up between this and Year Zero. If you asked me a different day, I might pick Year Zero. But I think this one has more songs that are top NIN songs for me. It's nearly a toss up though.

#6 Live it Out (2005) - Metric

Reasons: This is one of Metric's older albums, back when they had a more garage rock sound, although they still went pretty heavy on the electronic elements and they had the same dystopian sci-fi themes they do today. I prefer it to their newer stuff mostly just because of the heavier sound.

#7 Live (Secrets of the Lost Satellite Tour, Spring 2007) - Ken Andrews

Reasons: Ken Andrews is the lead singer of Failure, my favorite band. This does have some of the same songs that are on Fantastic Planet, but it also has some of Ken's solo work. It's a very atmospheric and dreamy album, and the fact that it's live and you can hear the crowd sometimes and the way he talks to them adds to that.

#8 So You've Ruined Your Life (2003) - Get Set Go

Reasons: This is Get Set Go's first album, and it's always been my favorite, even though I love Mike's newer stuff too. He's not as pop punk as he used to be, which is why I prefer it, but his outrageous and obscene lyrics are exactly what they used to be. This is the same guy who wrote a song about wanting to have sex with dinosaurs. A very explicit song about wanting to have sex with dinosaurs. He's ridiculous.

#9 Brand New Eyes (2009) - Paramore

Reasons: Some people would probably say I'm a fake Paramore fan, because I don't really care for any of their new stuff. It's not bad or anything, it just doesn't appeal to me on the same level that their first three albums do. I do love Riot! for its extreme energy and emotional highs of anger and joy, but Brand New Eyes is better for me thematically. I love the lyrics about growth and change and independence.

#10 xx (2009) - the xx

Reasons: I don't think I've ever heard duets better than what Romy and Oliver can do. The way the lyrics overlap, the way they finish each other's words. They do things with the concept of a duet that other groups just don't. The soundscape is very lowkey and chill and almost kinda highbrow in a weird way. Like, I feel like this is the kind of music that professional musicians list as their favorite music, if that makes sense.

[i-hope-this-is-a-phase]

Insult to Injury (Complete!)

And So It Goes by Zuesue for @honelle56 (T | Complete | 4k)

#emotional hurt/comfort #miscommunication Not everything can be planned, but adjustments can be made.

Thank you all for your patience! Added an extra thousand words during editing ascdknacsn.

Happy reading!

Fic underneath for those who prefer Tumblr over ao3

When Dream wakes up, it’s a full day later.

He’s not too surprised; he was already going on two days without sleep before the accident, and with the added stress of it plus another day of no sleep, it’s a wonder he didn’t sleep more.

Still, as he gets up to brush his teeth, he wonders if George has needed him and wasn’t able to get him because he was asleep.

It’s a ridiculous thought. George has interrupted his sleep for less. He still worries.

But, when he gets to the kitchen and finds Sapnap, he tells him he hasn’t seen George either.

“Did you wear him out after the celebration sex?” he asks, and Dream laughs loud and bright.

“Yeah, we got a blindfold to spice it up.”

Sapnap nods sagely. “Glad I bought it then along with the other shit you kept sending me.”

There’s a question there. “Yeah,” Dream says. “I couldn’t sleep.”

“I noticed.”

“Shut up.” There’s no heat to it, though. “I was just--”

“Worried? Yeah, me too bro.” Sapnap throws away the snack he was eating. “Still. Don’t get too crazy about this, okay?”

“What, you don’t want him to be my favorite?” Dream teases.

“I mean it,” Sapnap says. “He’ll notice if you’re coddling him, and he doesn’t need that right now.”

“Nick, he just got in a UTV accident.”

“That’s not what I’m talking about.” Before Dream can ask, Then what the fuck are you talking about, Sapnap walks off to do god knows what.

Dream stares at Sapnap’s vacant seat for a moment, but then makes his way toward the fridge. Guess it’s up to him to figure it out. For now, though, he’s in search of breakfast.

A bit later, after Dream’s been done with his granola for a long time and is now scrolling on his phone, George makes his way into the kitchen.

Dream rushes to the light switch to flick it off. “You should’ve texted me,” he says in lieu of greeting.

“I have to announce my presence now?”

“No, you don’t have to, no,” he says. “But I can turn off the lights if you give me advance warning.”

“That’s dumb. I’m not doing that.” George beelines for his abandoned granola on the counter. He grabs a handful and shoves it into his mouth, then makes a disgusted face. “Dream, this sucks.”

“Well, no one said you had to eat it.” He grabs the bag form George’s hand and puts it away under the counter.

George sits at the counter. “Make me cereal,” George demands, and although Dream flips him off, he moves to the counter to do just that.

Living with a concussed George isn’t…easy. Their lives revolve around electronics: whether it’s for work, for fun, or just to pass the time, there’s not a lot they do that doesn’t involve bright lights.

Dream had thought George would’ve tried to push through the pain, and Dream would have to do something drastic like turn off the Wi-FI to stop him.

But, George is a good sport. George does the exercises the doctor prescribed. He goes on the stationary bike, staying away from video games. He lets Dream turn off lights for him, lets Dream make him “watch” The Office with the “shit blind people use.” He hasn’t even gone on TikTok, even when Dream has been scrolling through his own feed all day.

“Dream, turn off that stupid video,” George complains after Dream’s rewatched the same video four times.

“It’s informational George.”

“No, it's not, and if I hear that song again, I’m going to a hotel.”

“Fine.” Dream closes the app. He decides he may as well do something productive and opens up his email.

It’s been almost a week since he’s done any work. He hasn’t had any desire to, what with George injured. But, there’s always things he could get ahead on, deals he could take, messages he can send…

“…What are you doing?”

“Needy are we?” Dream teases, as he continues typing away.

“Hiding something are we?”

“I’m not hiding anything.” But he knows that won’t appease George.

Sure enough, George demands an answer: “Tell me then.”

“I was sending an email to Ken.” He lowers the brightness and turns his phone so George can see the Gmail logo. “Happy now?”

It’s quiet for a moment.

“What’s the email about?” George asks.

“Uh, something about an investor. He asked for my input.” Dream returns to typing out a response.

There’s another pause.

George clears his throat.

Dream can hear him shift on the bed.

A moment later, George says: “Can I take a spin in the rig?”

That grabs Dream’s attention. “Huh? No.”

“Why not?”

“George, you’re injured, you’re not supposed to be working for two weeks—“

“We can do what you said: I can help you render something in the rig.”

“The rig has built-in lights, plus we need to have quality images if we want to fix the issue, which we need lights for.”

George throws his hands in the air. “Then let’s do something else then! There has to be something we can do, there’s always something.”

Dream snorts. “What, you’re finally in the mood to work after a year?”

That’s the wrong answer because George’s eyes flash dangerously. “You have something to say, Dream?”

A bolt of anger surges up inside him, but Dream tries to push it down. “I just dom’t know why you want to work right now. You need rest--”

“I’m not allowed to be productive? I’m supposed to sit on my ass and be lazy while you do shit for me?”

“That’s not what I said, and you know it.”

George glares at him. It’s cold.

It’s silent for a moment.

“Whatever,” he finally says. “I don’t want to talk to you anymore.” He gets up and starts to make his way out of Dream’s room.

Dream doesn’t want that at all. “George wait—“

“I don’t want to talk to you right now,” George declares again, and he slams the door behind him.

It’s silent again.

Dream doesn’t even know what he did. George needs rest. That’s not negotiable. He isn’t going to sacrifice his health for a project that can wait.

He tries to take a deep breath in and let it out slowly to try and calm down.

It doens’t work.

He tries again.

Doesn’t work.

“Fuck.” He slams his hand on the armrest. “Damnit.”

He’s not wrong. George needs rest.

George is just being stupid.

He’s just being stubborn.

…right?

It takes him a few minutes, but he finally gets up in search for Sapnap.

“Come in!” Sapnap yells after Dream knocks on the door. He takes one look at Dream’s face when he walks in and says, “You need help talking it out?”

“No.” He shuts the door behind him and makes his way to the couch. “I need to not be going crazy.”

“Well, I have bad news for you.”

“Being serious right now.”

“Right sorry.” Sapnap clicks a few times on his mouse, and whatever program he had up shuts down. He swivels in his chair to face him. “What happened?”

“George wants to start working again. I told him no. He got angry and left.”

Sapnap sighs. “You gotta tell me the whole story man.”

“That is the full story.”

“No it isn’t.”

“Yeah it is.”   “No it isn’t. You wouldn’t be here if it was.”

Dream opens his mouth to argue, but sighs, and thinks back to their fight. “…he thought I was calling him lazy.”

Sapnap hums. “Were you?”

“No, of course not. He’s recovering, he needs to get better. He can’t just ask me to let him use electronic shit when that’s going to hurt him.”

“Did he ask to use his electronics?”

“He wanted to work.”

“That’s not what I asked,” Sapnap says. “Did he ask to use his phone?”

“…no.”

“Did he ask to use his computer?”

“No.”

“Did he ask for anything that wasn’t work.”

“No, he just asked to help with the project okay?”

“Very,” Sapnap says. “So, why didn’t you let him work?"

“He asked if he could help with the rig.”

“Which he can’t do because of all the lights and shit,” Sapnap says.

“See? You get it.”

Sapnap nods, but he asks, “But can’t he do something else?” Like help Ken with the patents or help fiddle around with the wires He knows how to work them.”

“He needs to rest, Nick. Not help out iwth my project.”

“You’re still working,” Sapnap points out.

“Well--that’s different.”

“Is it?” Sapnap asks.

“Yeah, I’m not concussed.” Sapnap fiddles with his hoodie strings. “That doesn’t mean he can’t work Clay.”

Dream makes a frustrated noise. “You don’t get it either,” he says. “He doesn’t ened to work, okay?”

“But he wants to,” Sapnap says. “And you’re not letting him.”

“But why does he want to work?”

“How should I know?” Sapnap says. He turns around in his chair and starts opening up whatever program he had opened before. “Well? Go ask him.”

“I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“He’s mad at me.”

“I don’t care.” Sapnap starts clicking away on his mouse. “Go talk to him.”

Dreamsighs, but he gets up. He makes his way to the door. He pauses. “…thanks.”

“No problem dude.” Sapnap waves his hand. “Go makeup with your boyfriend.”

Dream doesn’t know what to expect when he knocks on George’s door. Maybe yelling. Maybe silence. He doesn’t expect the “Come in” he receives.

He opens the door slowly. George is lying on his bed, curled up and facing away from the door.

Dream fiddles with his hands. “I—uh.” He clears his throat. “I came to talk to you.”

“Could’ve guessed that,” George snarks.

“Well, yeah, okay.” He takes a step closer, but he stops. “Can I, uh, sit down?”

George’s foot twitches. “Sure,” he says after a moment.

Dream settles himself down onto George’s sheets. He realizes that George has gotten out the fluffy blanket he got for him: it’s wrapped around his legs and waist. He usually only brings it out when Dream’s away. It gives him the courage to start this conversation.

“I talked with Sapnap.”

George doesn’t respond, so he presses on: “He said that I might have been, a bit unclear. That maybe…I should ask why you want to work.”

He hears George scoff. “Because it’s not in character for me?”

“No, no of course not.” He lies down next to George. “Just…that you have the opportunity to rest right now. You don’t need to work right now, but you want to. And.” He takes a deep breath. “I don’t think it’s just because you’re excited about the project. I know you’re excited, but I don’t think…it’s in character as you would say, to push yourself when you’re hurt when there’s no need. Not like how I am.”

George sighs. "You just…don't understand."

Dream thinks for a moment. He scoots closer. Closer. He brings his arm to George's waist, settling his hand there. Pulls himself closer until he's flush behind him. He leans down to murmur into George's ear.

"Tell me?"

“No.”

Dream breathes out, but he expected that. “Okay.” He shifts closer, wrapping his arm fully around George, and presses his face into George’s hair. “I’d like to stay, though. Can I stay?” he asks.

He feels George breathe out as well. “If you must,” he grumbles, but he places his hand over the one that Dream has against George’s chest. Dream smiles into his hair, and breathes it all in. The quiet. The softness. George, safe against his chest and in his arms. The smell of George’s shampoo, the smell that was still on Dream’s pillow after that one night they fell asleep together for the first time. The tension that’s been inside him slowly drains out, and he relaxes into the bed.

Then, George shifts against his chest.

He clears his throat.

He whispers, softly, into the sheets, but Dream hears it: “I don’t want to disappoint you again.”

Dream blinks. He shifts too, closer to George so he can hold him more securely. “Why would I be disappointed?” he asks.

George shakes his head. “You were disappointed. When it happened.”

Dream doesn’t understand for a moment. When was he upset with George? Besides today, he hasn’t even been angry around George for months—

Oh.

“You thought…you thought I was disappointed in you, back in March.”

“Weren’t you?” Dream sees George clench a handful of the blanket. “You—you didn’t talk to me. You only spoke to me about the apology. Even when you were going through your shit, you told me stuff.”

George continues: “But that week, you didn’t tell me anything. And, at first, I thought it was just because you were stressed, and I got it. But then it was the week after, and the week after that, and you still would only talk about the project.”

Dream feels George take a ragged breath in. He flips his hand over so he’s holding George’s hand now, and says, “Go on.”

“You, you only started talking again when I joined the project. When I started helping. You started watching TV with me again, you played Minecraft with me again. “ George sniffles. “It was after two weeks that you told me you loved again.”

George is full-on crying now, and Dream moves his other hand up so he can pet George’s hair, trying to soothe him as best as he can.

“And even though I like it, like working with you, I just worried if one day, if I needed to stop, if I would stop being your friend because I couldn’t help anymore. So I tried to help you besides the project by making sure you ate and took breaks, and everything.” George laughs, wet and messy. “And to add insult to injury, when I did get hurt, I thought, at least, you’d appreciate the break since I wasn’t helping. But then, you sent that email, and I just—“ George hiccups. “And then you wouldn’t let me work, and I thought that it was done, that I had done something and messed up, that I had lost—lost—“ He’s gasping for breath, and Dream’s had enough. He maneuvers George to face him and pulls him against him.

“George it’s—it’s okay, please don’t cry. I wouldn’t, I’d never leave you.”

“You did though,” George says, miserable.

Dream is about to deny it, but he thinks back.

March had been hard. The high of Sapnap’s birthday followed by the crash of the big controversy had been hard on both Dream and George, especially when friends they had trusted had seemingly disappeared overnight.

Dream had thrown himself into work back then. Had spent those following weeks trying to bury the heartbreak and betrayal through work. Not because of George, never because of George. But, he sees now how George could have gotten that impression.

“That wasn’t…that wasn’t because of you George. Me being sad. That was because of everyone else who decided that we weren’t worth it. If anything—“ He laughs to himself. “—you were the one who never left me, and that got me back.”

George reaches a hand up. He hesitates, but he grabs onto Dream’s arm, the one that is holding him. “But then,” he says. “Why did you start taking breaks after I helped?”

“Because—because I wanted to take care of you,” he realizes suddenly. “You were working so hard, and I knew you were still recovering, so I just started taking breaks and inviting you.”

George snorts quietly, and Dream feels the tension in the air lighten. “Idiot,” he says. “You should take breaks because you need them, not because I just need them.”

“Yeah, well.” Dream fidgets with George’s shirt. “It’s hard.”

George smiles at him, and to Dream, it’s the most beautiful thing in the world right now. “That’s why we take care of each other, right?”

Dream smiles back, but he remembers something Sapnap said: “Hey, uh; next time, you should just tell me. I can’t always tell when you’re feeling bad.”

George scoffs. “Wow, the great Dream admits he doesn’t know everything.”

He acknowledges the effort for light-heartedness, but he presses on: “Seriously, next time, just ask if I’m upset. You know I’m bad with telling when someone’s mad at me, and it should go both ways. Especially with us, okay? We’re a team.”

George smiles at that. The soft one Dream loves. “Yeah, we are,” George agrees. Then: “I’ll try to be better.”

“Me too.” They’re silent for a moment. Dream is running his hand up and down George’s spine, and he feels George squeeze his arm.

Once.

Twice.

Three times.

He smiles. “You know,” he says. “I would’ve said I love you back if you had told me it.”

George feigns ignorance. “What are you on about?”

“You know.” He leans his head down to whisper into George’s ear. “Using our secret code.”

George blushes bright red, and Dream coos. “Shut up, idiot,” George says, shoving at Dream’s chest as Dream laughs.

The code came about a few months ago. His younger self had used to love demanding a love confession from George. But, his older self had learned that demanding vulnerability from George, even if George meant it, was not what he really wanted.

So, he told George about the Reddit post he saw about the three squeezes.

”It’s like—you do it when you want to say I love you but you don’t want to say it.”

”What, you think I love you?” George had retorted.

”I know you do, and I know that this might help.” George had looked like was going to argue, but Dream had held his hand up. “Just,” he had said. “Think about it.”

For the first month, there had been nothing. But then, right before his debut in Orlando, George had squeezed his hand.

Once.

Twice.

Three times.

Then, it kept happening.

When he had beat the Parkour Warrior record, randomly at dinner, when he dropped The Truth, when he said good night to Dream.

One. Two. Three squeezes.

“Alright, I’ll shut up.,” Dream says, after he stops laughing, and George stops shoving him away. Dream waits a beat. Then: “I love you too.”

Dream burst out laughing again as George shoves him until Dream is on his back, but yelps when George bites him. “Ow!”

“You deserve pain,” George says with a deadpan face, which only makes Dream giggle.

“Yeah, alright.” His head falls back onto the bed, and after a bit, George lays his head back down on Dream’s chest,

They lay quietly together for a while. George seems to be listening to Dream’s heartbeat, as he taps along to the rhythm on Dream’s side. Dream himself is tracing patterns along George’s back, content to be still for once.

But, after a bit, George speaks up: “Can I ask a question again?”

“Sure.”

He continues drawing shapes on George’s back as George thinks. He feels George mouthing something against his chest. He turns to look at Dream.

“…you’ve been acting weird recently.”

Dream keeps rubbing George’s back. “I have?” he inquires.

George nods.

“You’ve been, more touchy. And not just since my injury it’s been—“ George swallows. “Since December.”

Dream turns to look at George. “Do you…do you not like it?”

George moves his hand to play with Dream’s hand, the one he has resting against his own chest. He pulls on one of the ring. “…no.”

“Then,” Dream says. “Why are you asking?”

“I want to know…why you’re doing it.”

“I don’t know.” But the answer feels wrong, somehow. “Well, that’s not true. I mean, uh, after my video, I felt free, y’know? Like I wasn’t—held back like I’ve been since you’ve arrived. And maybe that made me feel like I could do the things…I wanted now?” He stops rambling. “Does that make sense?”

George plays with another ring on Dream’s hand. “Yeah,” he says. “Yeah, it makes sense.” He looks up into Dream’s eyes.

Dream looks down into George’s eyes.

There’s a beat.

Another one.

George looks down.

At something.

No, not just something.

At Dream’s lips.

Something stirs in Dream, compels him to lift his hand to cup George’s cheek. To lean closer.

George leans closer too.

Closer.

Closer.

Their lips are a breath away.

“Is this okay?” George asks.

Dream leans forward and seals their lips together as an answer.

It’s just like how Dream remembers from New Year’s. Soft, but firm. Gentle pressure. A warmth spread from his lips to his body to the tips of his fingers.

He presses closer, drinking in the closeness. The warmth. The love.

Love…

Dream breaks away, and opens his eyes.

George’s eyes flutter open. He looks at Dream for a moment but then smiles. The soft one that Dream likes.

Loves even.

"I think I love you," Dream blurts out.

Shit.

George is going to freak out. George is going to leave the bed. George is going to need space and ruin all the progress they jus got after their fight--

George raises an eyebrow. "You just figured that out?"

"Well--no. You know I love you. You're my best friend. But I think I like. Love you, love you." He should stop talking now. He doesn't. "Like, you're my best friend, and I kiss you, and I love you."

George laughs again, but it's shy. "Okay," he says. "What's the matter then?"

"Um, I shouldn't be?" Dream laughs nervously.

"Well, that's stupid."

"…what!?"

George rolls his eyes. "I'm your best friend, you love me, and you want to kiss me. You're my best friend, I love you, and I want to kiss you. So, there's no problem."

Dream feels like he's missed a large part of this conversation. "What?"

"Like, we can just, do all those things now. It doesn't have to be wrong or bad. And before you start thinking--" he interrupts Dream's train of thought, "--we can discuss 'labels' or whatever after I take a nap."

Dream scoffs. "Only you would want to take a nap after I confess my love for you."

"Yes." George pushes against Dream’s chest. "Now, lay down. You're staying."

Dream complies until he’s lying down again, then curls around him. He wraps both his arms around George. Even though he has two thoughts whirling inside his head, he’s tired from their earlier fight. He presses his face into George’s hair. They will figure it out tomorrow.

They have the rest of their lives to figure it out, apparently.

So, he let's go. “Goodnight George,” he says, and after a moment, he dares to press a kiss to George’s head too.

He hears the smile in George’s voice.

“Goodnight idiot.”i