#Plumbing in Point Cook

[nixiecat]

I think my GPU might have faulty VRAM....... which. would be ridiculously devastating as I uh. Need My GPU for my day job and Can't Afford to replace a whole GPU rn.

[danzersplumbing]

Point Cook's Most Reliable Plumbing Services A Comprehensive Overview

Point Cook is a thriving and vibrant suburb, home to growing families and businesses. Like any other region, homes and establishments in Point Cook require efficient plumbing services to maintain their functionality. From leaky faucets to complete pipe replacements, it’s crucial to have trustworthy professionals to count on. If you’re searching for plumbers in Point Cook, this guide highlights…

[f1daydreamer]

What’s the most chaotic thing you can imagine Lando Norris doing in a relationship

Lando Norris & His Chaotic Boyfriend Behavior (Totally Not Spoilers 👀)

Okay, hear me out—the most chaotic thing I can imagine Lando doing in a relationship? Definitely something like:

•Live-streaming their argument by accident – He’s on Twitch, supposedly raging over a game, but the chat quickly realizes he’s actually arguing with his girlfriend off-screen. Chaos. Absolute chaos. The clip goes viral in 0.2 seconds.

•Buying a pet without asking – Surprise! There’s now a baby goat in their living room, and he’s already named it. She’s not amused, but Lando insists they’re keeping it.

•Oversharing in interviews – A journalist asks a casual question about his personal life, and before he can stop himself, he drops an extremely embarrassing fact about his girlfriend. The group chat immediately roasts him.

•Forgetting an important date but making up for it in the most extra way – Realizes at the last minute and panic-books a literal private jet for a surprise getaway. (Totally normal behavior.)

•Stealing her skincare products – Then acting like he has no idea why his skin is suddenly clearer than hers. The audacity.

•Texting absolute nonsense at 3 AM – He suddenly wakes up and needs to know: “Would you still love me if I was a worm but like a really fast one???”

•Ordering the most unhinged food combos – Genuinely thinks dipping pizza in milk is valid and tries to convince her to try it. (She refuses. Obviously.)

•Getting jealous over ridiculous things – “WHY did you like his Instagram post from four days ago?!” It was a meme, Lando.

•Leaving voice memos instead of texting – And they’re all either incoherent mumbling, weird sound effects, or him screaming into the mic. No in-between.

•Pranking her 24/7 – But the second she gets him back? “Wow. That was mean. I trusted you.”

•The 2 AM McDonald’s Run That Went Wrong-It starts as a simple craving. Lando’s half-asleep, mumbling about nuggets. Next thing she knows, they’re in the drive-thru, him in pajama pants, her in one of his hoodies. But just as they get their order, Lando accidentally starts rolling forward… and straight into the curb. The McDonald’s employees are watching. She’s crying from laughter. He’s just sitting there, holding a large fries, whispering, “I can fix this.”

•The Time Lando Got Lost in IKEA - They go to IKEA for one thing. ONE. Yet somehow, Lando disappears within minutes. She gets a text: “Babe. I’m in the fake bedroom section. Send help.” Twenty minutes later, she finds him fully lying in a display bed, hands behind his head, rating the mattress. “Honestly, I could live here.”

•When Lando Tried to Cook and Nearly Burned Down the Kitchen - He swears he can handle it. “Pasta is easy, babe. It’s just water and noodles.” Fast forward: the fire alarm is going off, there’s smoke everywhere, and he’s standing there with a melted spatula, looking guilty. “Sooo… we’re ordering takeout, yeah?”

•The Vacation That Turned Into a Survival Mission - He planned a “relaxing getaway.” The reality? A remote cabin with no Wi-Fi, questionable plumbing, and a surprise thunderstorm. At one point, he’s standing in the rain, holding a stick like it’s a weapon. “If a bear shows up, I got this.” She’s already googling hotels nearby.

•Lando’s Genius Plan to Sneak Into a Concert (That Failed Miserably) - They didn’t have tickets. But Lando had a plan. “Trust me, I saw this in a movie.” Next thing she knows, they’re wearing matching high-vis vests, holding clipboards, and trying to look official. It works… for about five minutes. Then security spots them. “RUN!”

•The Time Lando Decided to Dye His Hair… and Regretted Everything - He was so confident. “Platinum blonde will look sick.” She tries to warn him. He doesn’t listen. An hour later, he’s staring at his reflection, horrified. “Babe. I look like a wet Q-tip.”

The IKEA Couch Disaster - He insisted they didn’t need help assembling it. “We got this!” Three hours later, there are extra screws, the instructions are ripped, and the couch is lopsided. “So… maybe we just tell people it’s modern art?”

---

(Also… confession time. 👀)

These chaotic Lando moments? Yeah… they’re actually straight from my drafts. Every single one. I may have just leaked my own work, but at this point, are we even surprised? 😆

They’re still getting some final edits (fixing grammar mistakes, tweaking details, and making sure the photos and screenshots are just right—perfection takes time, people! ✨), but they’re coming very soon.

Now, I need your help—which one do you want to see first? Drop your favs in the comments before I get too tempted to post them all at once. 🤭🔥

------

[machveil]

First things first: *deep inhale* AAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH So so so so good! Mentally framing my wedding certificates to these silly lil men! Screaming, crying, throwing up, frothing at the mouth, flailing on my beg, kicking my legs and feet! Amaaaaaaazing! Something my daydreams cooked up when I was half-awake this morning: Imagine the rest of TF141 catching Simon on his phone more even during meetings and out in the field, seemingly checking his texts and when possible calling someone regularly, making a point to be away from the guys when talking. When they ask, he answers them casually, dismissing it as him checking in on the house-sitter he hired because of how often he's gone and how he hates coming back to dust and expired food. Naturally, given that Simon is the type to hate anyone in his space, especially someone he doesn't know, the boys (read: Johnny) are very curious. This leads to them (read again: Johnny) sneaking around trying to eavesdrop. Whether or not they catch him sounding softer while he listens to the person on the other side, him humming and chiming in while he goes about scrubbing his boots or inspecting his knives, is up to you. Is the reader actually his house-sitter? Yes, but Simon's also asking how their day was, how they're doing, things that are not even remotely related to his place that he may or may not be letting them stay in full-time because they were living in a shoddy apartment with poor plumbing and bugs and he just can't have that. He thanks them when they say they cleaned the windows, asks if they like that book they mentioned buying last week, how's their latest hobby going, etc. Simon Riley is a domestic man, and anyone arguing otherwise can pry it from my cold, dead hands! -🐸 Also I hope I never make you feel pressured to respond or write something, I just want to share my brainrot

ough, no no, keep them coming lol your brainrot is top tier! in fact, I implore people to send me CoD brainrot - the English student me yearns to write

Someone at Home

it’s normal for someone to make calls - Simon “Ghost” Riley isn’t just someone though. reserved man that he is, isn’t it suspicious that he keeps reaching for his phone? Johnny thinks so CW: gn!reader but Johnny says ‘lass’ once as an assumption, shenanigans

no one notices at first - it starts slow. Ghost’s phone is set to vibrate, his incoming call ringtone is barely audible, but Johnny picks up on it. reserved Lieutenant that he is, for as long as Soap has known Ghost, as long as Johnny has been friends with Simon, Ghost doesn’t pick up calls on base

his new habit caught Soap’s eye, at first just receiving calls, but when Ghost starts calling someone? oh, Soap knows when something is up. “Got a lass at home, L.T., someone keeping ya bed warm?”, it’s teasing, tone lighthearted when Soap asks. it catches him off guard when Ghost looks him dead in the eyes, “Housekeeper. Jus’ checkin’ in, yeah?”, his voice was a little more stern than Soap would have imagined. a housekeeper, huh? he had his doubts, but he’d rather make it a game, try to figure it out for himself

Ghost used to have his phone completely silenced, only rarely turning notifications on when he was on leave - rarely, because even then he might just not feel like it. but now? this supposed housekeeper has Ghost leaving meetings when he can, ditching the gym to go out into the hallway

this housekeeper, apparently Ghost’s flat is high maintenance. daily calls at least once, Soap’s keeping track, most he’s called was five times. Ghost would always brush him off, mumble something about his air conditioner or a door hinge. always so vague, the first month had Soap scratching his stubble trying to piece Ghost’s life together - his life on the other end of that phone

it doesn’t help that Ghost is extremely secretive while texting. phone held down to his lap, his back hunched as he types with both thumbs. it’s very guarded, his gaze locked to his screen. he’s practically dead to the world when he’s doing this, mumbled words leaving his lips when he hears ‘Ghost’ or ‘L.T.’

Johnny tried to hover over his shoulder once, “Who’s that? Ya wee housekeeper, Ghost?”. before he could see anything, Soap let out a startled noise when Ghost’s hand pressed against his face - a quick shove was all it took for him to stumble back. “Mind ya business.”, was all Johnny got from Ghost, voice gruff and low as he turned his phone off

it was so alien to Soap, not the guarded nature of Ghost’s actions, just the fact someone was able to take Ghost’s full attention. and full attention isn’t an understatement, Soap could swear Ghost was smiling under his balaclava. he’s seen the crinkle around his eyes when his phone buzzes, how fast he is to check a notification now

maybe that’s why Soap turns to stealth - tailing Ghost when he steps out into the hall, or standing outside a door to listen to him. sure, Soap can only hear one end of his conversation, but that alone is fascinating. he’s used to Ghost’s gruff voice, a man of few words

but with his housekeeper? Soap’s a little awestruck at how often Ghost— Simon laughs. because, maybe it’s just Soap, but this isn’t the Ghost he’s familiar with, he’s being personable, a tad more talkative. his voice doesn’t carry weight to it, unburdened as he talks into the phone. that’s Simon Riley, a rarity on base

and then he hears Simon refer to them, this supposed housekeeper. “Love— no, I told you. You can’t use the window in the bathroom, it sticks. No, I know— bloody hell, when I get home I’ll fix it.”, ‘love’, such a sweet endearment coming from his low, gravely voice. it has a smirk tugging on Soap’s lips, eyes gleaming with amusement

oh, he’d love to tease Ghost over this. he does have someone keeping his bed warm, someone he cares enough about he’s using pet names. he hears Ghost say his goodbyes, about to turn around and leave when he freezes. “Get a good earful, Johnny?”, Ghost’s voice coming from behind the door, Soap’s shoulders falling

all he can do is sigh and peak into the room, Ghost standing with his arms crossed as Soap sulks in, “Aye, I did, L.T., I did… but I was right.”, he chuckles, walking up to Ghost, “Gonna introduce us to your ‘love’?”

[turbulentscrawl]

Modern AU: Norton Campbell

You've heard of modern reader? Well now it's time for Modern canon!

- Previously, he worked in the oil industry, but a nasty accident he doesn’t speak about has left him with his fair share of burn scars. Norton now works as an independent contractor, known around town as a do-it-all type of handyman. He rarely works with or for group projects, preferring to be hired directly by property owners for the work they need done. He’s his own boss, and he makes his own schedule, but he’s a workaholic.

- He was raised by his uncle Benny after his parents died when he was still very young—his mother shortly after childbirth, due to complications, and his father in a work-related accident. Benny’s health deteriorated fast, though, and as soon as he was legally able Norton picked up a part-time job to help pay the bills and build a college fund. (Or several, more like, and he was known to bounce around for better pay.)

-Some time in his senior year of high school, he discovered that Benny was keeping secrets; Benny had not only convinced his father to stay in the oil industry after he was born, but wasted and gambled away all the life insurance money from his death. Enraged and betrayed, Norton dropped out of school and left. He drove as far away as he could with the little money he had, and then lived out of his truck for a while. Eventually, he made enough money to rent a shitty little motel room by the week, and then a shitty little apartment.

-After leaving, he at first went into the oil industry like his old man and Benny had been—it was something he was familiar enough with and hard labor paid better than being a busboy again. But after a few years there was an accident which left him with several burn scars. He was left in pain for a long time, but the worker’s comp paid for most of his medical bills and his rent, giving him just enough time to get his GED. After that, he started into construction, plumbing, and other handiman things he was knowledgeable in after years of being poor and self-sufficient.

-The accident, this time, was more of an ACTUAL accident. Norton had a disagreement with some of the coworkers he hated. There was an altercation, and something ignited…and Norton was the only one who got out. He doesn’t talk about it, mostly out of shame and a sense of guilt, but he copes by telling himself they deserved it.

- He drives the same beat-up old pickup truck Benny bought for him as a kid. It was transferred into his name when he was 18, so Benny can’t swipe it from under his nose. (Legally, anyway.) He could probably get a loan and buy a new car, but at this point he prefers to keep the old hunk of junk. Maybe he’s sentimental, or maybe the weekly maintenance he has to do on it is just therapeutic in a way.

-Not a super techy guy. He keeps up with industry news and learns new skills often, but his truck, his phone, and most of his home appliances are older. He’s good enough with fixing things that he hasn’t bothered to replace them.

-He’s not much of a decorator, either, but he’s good at thrifting and building his own furniture with recycled materials. His apartment/home is a bit of a hodgepodge, with mostly bare walls, but what he does have I impressive in its own way. Any décor he has is likely gifted.

-He’d like to own a home one day, but he’s playing things by ear. He realizes that might be asking a lot while he’s got no real support system.

-He’s a fair cook, but a lot of what he makes could be called “struggle meals.” They’re what he’s been used to for a long time.

-He’s a little paranoid about pumping gas into his truck, but he’s gotta do what he’s gotta do. On his days off, he tends to walk to take public transit to save some money and gas mileage.

-He’s that guy with a 7-in-1 shampoo, conditioner, bodywash etc men’s soap. Someone please teach him better ways.

[sevs-corner]

the voices are talking again and they have concluded on the random idea of -- Tf 141: Transformers AU but they're like Cade Yeager and you're Tessa Yeargar (this is gonna be more on the found family genre, ok?)

Imagine the setting is based on the movie "Age of Extinction"

The four are just strugglin' to make ends meet as country-side mechanics out in the wild west. They could barely feed each other, living by each passing pay they could scrape together with all the odd jobs they pick up on the side. From mowing lawns, fixing plumbing, working in construction, double timing shifts at groceries and mechanic shops-- they do all this to support their family. To put food on their table.

And to make sure you get to live a comfortable life.

Yes, you-- the infamously adopted daughter of those gay couple at the corner of town. Clearly they're relationship status was viewed in poor taste by the townsfolk (those stubborn traditionalists) and in return, you were often associated with that status and unjustly judged for it.

School was always shit, a pain to go to and see-- but you needed to do it. Needed to finish it and graduate.

Not just because you're ass was on the line if you didn't, but you wanted to go to college for engineering. You were inspired by your dads (and secretly wanted to make them proud) and worked closely with them whenever they would coop up in their 'man-cave' (aka their working barn but they hang out there often too, so they resolve to calling it that.)

Day-in and day-out, you would help them after doing homework, helping some left over clean-up work they had to do before cooking dinner and sharing a couple of beers in front of a televised game. Once you were sure that they were all conked-up and snoring, sometimes, you would sneak into their garage and grab some of their old inventions-- trying to replicate them without any of their blueprints and study the purpose behind it. You would do this in your own personal workshop with your prized car that you fixed up yourself (and sometimes used in the drag car races.)

Hence, in similar fashion, you work as hard as them and in return, they try their best to support you-- with the only thing holding them back is the point that you might be away from them.

The best engineering college is states away and they just can't see why you can't just attend the college they have nearby, and still live with them to cut on costs on rent and other daily necessities.

But to their frustrations, you were just as stubborn as them (you were raised by them after all) and wouldn't back down from that argument. It wasn't like it was sure-ball guarantee you were going to leave-- what if you really sucked and that top league university doesn't take you? So, to you, they were just unnecessarily worrying for something that might not even happen in the first place.

Until... it does.

You're days awaiting for your graduation date and just fulfilling some left over requirements your school does for the students at the end of the year. You've started picking up on your side-hustle of also becoming a mechanic (and a secret drag racer at the side) at the car dealer and their mechanic shop, hoping to earn as much as you can for whatever fate has dealt in her cards for you.

These men are antsy.

They could feel the date coming closer and closer and either side had not come to a compromise on what you would do.

Until they see it.

That dreaded fucking mailman on a rickety old bike, their daily papers and some envelopes in his hand as he slots it in their old- but automatic- mailbox. When he looks up, the mailman sweats profusely, seeing all their pointed glares aimed at him, and just as he was about to pedal away-- a dog (Riley) chases after him like its his routine yet he still screams and bikes away.

Though he goes faster than before once he sees the dog actually jump over the fence this time.

All of them huff out a chuckle before Soap decides to grab the mail with Gaz giving him a quick smooch on his shaved off head in thanks while the other three of them go back to working out the old mobile their neighbor wanted fixed up.

Yet this gets interrupted by the most horrific scream Johnny lets out, making them whip their heads to the noise and immediately make their way to him.

And there they see, in his trembling hand, the letter.

In bright bold font behind the transparent section of the envelope, it says...

"Congratulations for being accepted."

Sadly, this news never reached you, no matter how much you pried for it. Seeing in your email that the letter was in transit and should be on the way soon, but still-- there was no news.

And the four men they call themselves cannot muster the courage to break this to you in fear that you would leave them.

Although this stone is left unturned when the truck- that Ghost found in an old theater his friend asked him to fix-up, became a fucking autobot in their barn.

Chaos ensues just like the plot of the movie.

They learn of your drag racing driving skills from the 'boyfriend' that saved you guys before getting picked off by the black ops unit of the CIA- the Cemetery Wind (or in this case, the Shadow Company) led by Philipp Graves.

Your boyfriend, being Alex Keller, a top race car driver that actually trained you and cleaned up your skills as a driver, which he was thankful at the moment when you proceed to pull out moves that crashed the other cars behind you and lose them in the explosion that helped you get off the grid for a moment.

The four men don't know what's worse now.

You not agreeing with them in your choice of college or you keeping a secret boyfriend from them under their nose-- and they have to see HIM cuddle up with YOU- THEIR PRECIOUS DAUGHTER?

Yeah, that's not gonna happen.

So, the whole time, they're trying to keep you away from each other-- and it was quite easy with four bodyguards orbiting around you 24/7.

All the while, you guys plan with Optimus to meet up with the rest of the Autobots to infiltrate the headquarters of K.S.I. after discovering that the company behind the attacks on the autobots. You had no choice but to accompany your family, you didn't trust them to keep themselves safe so you were gonna keep them in check-- with your boyfriend, of course.

On the other side of this story (for the other characters), Shepherd (in place of Joshua Joyce as the CEO) is the great big antagonist that helps rebuild Galvatron while in kahoots with Graves to forward their plan of improving the world through the use of the 'seed.'

Laswell, for this role, was the secretary of Shepherd-- but after the attack of their headquarters, gets in contact with the Optimus crew and offers her aid and connections to over turn the corrupted tide that was surely going to end their world.

The boys are obviously hesistant, but once she proves her information to be correct once she showed the company's plans on Galvatron-- they knew they needed her to accomplish it.

And so the plot continues as per the movie with its own sprinkle of excitement (once i build this in my drafts lol)

Welp, that was my word vomit for today-- you can find my masterlist here!

[marlynnofmany]

A Noir Interlude (In Space)

The dame breezed in like anyone should be happy to see her. She wasn’t wrong; her shiny scales lent color to the room like the Painted Sunset she was named after, and her cheery demeanor was enough to warm the bitterest heart. There was a note of concern nestled between those browridges, though. She had a request for me.

“Do you know who left cracker wrappers in the bathroom sink? It’s Zhee’s turn to clean it, and he’s annoyed about the mess.”

I was on the case.

She led me down hallways that hummed with the song of a distant engine, ferrying us through the blackness of space, and to a little spot I was personally acquainted with. A different sound filled the airwaves here.

“This sink isn’t rated for crumbs! Careless! On the floor is one thing, but in the sink? Who’s eating food in the bathroom??”

Purple exoskeleton gleamed while the cranky fellow gestured with pincher arms and stamped with various bug legs. They made quiet little clicks on the floor. One of his pinchers held a gravity wand suitable for small cleanup jobs. By the look of the backed-up sink, it wasn’t the best tool for plumbing.

He caught sight of me and pointed at the little trash can. “Is that yours? It’s somebody’s crunchy food, not mine.”

I dutifully opened the lid with the foot pedal to take a look. Nope, not my chow. I told him so as I let the lid close. Gotta keep things contained in case of gravity fluctuations.

While the cranky fellow complained some more and I vowed to get to the bottom of it, a clue ran past the door.

A little furry clue, chasing something that crinkled.

I was out the door and hot on the trail in a flash. Crinkling sounds and soft paw-thumps led the way to the kitchen, where I found an entirely different clue.

Eggskin the cook, fastening the lid onto a larger trash can with the air of someone making sure it was done right this time.

“Oh hey, we’re going to have to make sure this is closed properly,” they said, dusting off scaly yellow-green hands. “The cat got into it. There was nothing in there to cause digestive concern, thankfully, but…” Eggskin trailed off and pointed behind me.

Quiet pawsteps, feline pride, and the shrink-wrap plastic that had once held the captain’s favorite eel jerky. Now that plastic was carried like a prize. Which it probably was.

I’d cracked the case.

I thanked Eggskin for their help, and returned to tell Paint and Zhee that the mess was an unfortunate accident, with no one to blame. No one able to apologize for it, at any rate.

Anyways the culprit was a buddy of mine. I managed to trade the jerky wrapper for a proper cat treat, and I threw it away in a trash can that was fully secured. Zhee was almost done cleaning the bathroom, and it wouldn’t do to have this mess start all over again.

~~~

These are the ongoing backstory adventures of the main character from this book.

Shared early on Patreon! There’s even a free tier to get them on the same day as the rest of the world.

The sequel novel is in progress (and will include characters from these stories. I hadn’t thought all of them up when I wrote the first book, but they’re too much fun to leave out of the second).

[sparrowrye]

The Archivist's Oath || Chapter 19: boredom isn't terrible

Summary: Alastor finds an archivist who can translate Old World texts. Equally bound to their duty, reader and Alastor traverse the tricky landscape of love and commitment…but to whom and to what?

Chapter Synopsis: Storm Season has officially arrived and Alastor makes the first step.

Master List

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Storm Season arrived.

In most districts, the people took their valued possessions and crowded together in lower caves. It allowed Alastor's mages to focus on strengthening the caves to keep them from caving in. They moved on a rotating basis after every storm, allowing them to return to the Magic District to take a break.

The mages who stayed in the Magic District, usually mothers and apprentices, did the same and used magic to keep their homes from crumbling. It made the area the most stable district in the entire city, something Alastor boasted at any chance he could.

I wanted to spend Storm Season with Rosie but she politely declined. She said I was safest in the Magic District and likely wouldn't do well in a crowded cave—just like how I didn't do well in the communal dining hall. She was right, but that didn't mean I had to like it.

The metal slants of Vox's hurricane barriers were easily visible from any point in the ravine. I hoped the metal would hold and not cause more damage in the wind. I also hoped that everyone was exaggerating the strengths of the storms, but then I remembered I was in a different region than that of my bunker—a region near the coast.

The streets of the Magic District were bare and empty by the time Alastor strode back at dusk. The orange sun had already climbed up the walls, leaving the ravine in a cold shadow. My heart pained at the loss of being able to watch a sunset. Maybe after Storm Season I could convince Rosie to let me watch one. How did people even get out of this city?

Now that my initial project was ready to be put to the test, I had nothing to translate. I looked through my copy of the catalog to see what else I could translate that wouldn't be detrimental. Maybe if I kept myself busy and focused on another 'project', Alastor wouldn't try to force me to translate certain texts.

I decided to focus on enhancing the city's electricity and plumbing system. They weren't large-scale, life-altering things, but it could make life in the city more enjoyable. I rummaged through my books and set the ones I needed on the desk. It made me wish there was an easier way to store my books like my bunker.

Alastor's footsteps echoed as he climbed the stairs to the attic. I squeezed my pencil tighter as he approached, stopping a safe distance from the chair but close enough to peer over my shoulder.

"My dear," he said, "you are permitted a break. You overworked yourself and deserve some time to rest."

My fingers froze. I certainly wasn't expecting that.

I glanced over my shoulder and regretted it. His dark, red, looming figure reminded me where I was and what I was doing. The way he towered and focused his sharp eyes on me made me feel like a bird stuck in a cage. It might be gold and spacious now, but it was still a cage.

After I didn't respond, he began to walk aimlessly around the room. "If things go well, you will deserve more than that." It was so easy to hear Al when I wasn't looking at him.

"If they go well," I corrected quietly.

He wandered some more, fingers running along the old book bindings and picking up dust along the way. He sparked the fire to life to bring a little more warmth and light into the dark room. I removed my glasses and turned in my seat to watch him.

He got lost in his own mind, drifting from all the different tasks he would need to complete after the first storm had passed. A radio played softly from downstairs while Niffty cooked dinner.

Distracted, his foot caught on an uneven floorboard and he stumbled. His nose curled in a snarl as he rightened himself and stared down the offending wood plank. It was slightly raised but not enough to be noticeable. He knelt down and fidgeted with it as it moved loosely under his palm. The bolts weren't even in the wood anymore. An easy fix.

He lifted the plank to find a small compartment underneath. Inside were a few worn, tattered books. They had been stacked carefully with paper in between each volume. The precision and care told him these were important.

His eyes flickered up to me. My face had blanched and I stood, muscles coiled tightly to run. I looked between him and the books. I was waiting for him to yell, to stomp towards me, to demand what they were.

But he didn't.

"I..." I shifted uncomfortably as my toes itched from a dark memory climbing up. "Alastor I didn't...I wasn't—"

"Did you think I wouldn't find this?" he asked, the words pulled sharply from his throat before he could reign it in.

I wrung my hands and backed into the desk chair. "No, I just—they're important to me. I didn't want them...burned. I know you have the catalog and could ask for them but it just felt better to have them out of sight—"

He stood, cutting my ramble off, and used his cane to push the floorboard back in place. An ounce of tension left my shoulders.

His approach was slow, giving my heart plenty of time to jump in my throat. He could see the way my wrapped feet tried to grip the wood without any claws; could see the way my hands moved to my elbows in an awkward self embrace; could see the way my shoulders tensed; and could see the way I lowered my head the closer he came.

He swallowed his anger from seeing me physically brace and said, "I am not angry."

There was a moment of stunned silence, before I lifted my head halfway. My eyes latched on the tower of books behind his red arm. "You're...not?"

He looked over his shoulder at the books and the fireplace, remembering when he had burned one of my books to force me to translate faster. "No, I am not angry."

I wasn't quite sure how to respond. I could feel the burn of his stare along my tense shoulders and down to where I was gripping my sleeves too tight.

I flinched when his finger touched my chin. I quickly looked up, finding his monocle gone as his eyes wandered the features of my face. I felt a compelling urge to start talking.

"I—I just, you know...I wanted them to be safe. They're all I have left of..." I pressed my lips tightly and looked away. I hadn't meant to admit how much they meant to me. Now they would likely be the ones he would burn first if I refused to translate something.

I needed a new hiding place.

He nodded, reading the anxious, raw emotion he had caused. I leaned further against the desk, away from him, but his presence managed to wrap around me entirely. I fidgeted with the collar of my shirt.

"You don't need to explain it." He stepped back, allowing me to draw in a deep breath.

"Why aren't you angry?" I asked, lifting my gaze just enough to meet his eyes. They appeared to glow in the dark.

"Because I understand why you did it. You have been through enough already. Having something to protect and keep safe is...expected."

He was full of surprises tonight. Before he had been anything but understanding. Now, he was being understanding and kind. What had changed?

Our eyes met and for a long moment that was all that was needed. His eyes didn't have their sharp edge, the deciphering look, and the usual intensity. We were looking at each other for no other reason than to look.

He blinked and cleared his throat, returning the monocle to its place beneath his eye. "Eventually we'll have to talk about what they are but...you're doing a good job so far. So I have no reason to ask yet."

I smiled at the truce. Quietly, I said, "Thank you."

I saw a small quirk at the edge of his smile. "Well—" his hands splayed wildly in the air, "now that you're on a break, it's time to eat dinner properly. Come along."

~*~

I had experienced bad storms before but nothing like this. 

There was no steady pattern, just an onslaught of rain and wind trying to break through the walls. The few windows had been boarded up, keeping the tower in a constant shadowy gloom. I could see Alastor's magic pulsing through the walls and floor with a faint glowing green in a few corners. 

I found it odd that his magic was green yet he wore all red. I attributed it to his desire to be the scary blood-thirsty Radio Demon.

Alastor was two floors below me, listening to the radio drum on. Various voices broke through static but it was too muffled for me to understand what they were saying. So I paced around my room and focused my attention on walking in sporadic patterns. My back was starting to itch again.

"Hello!" Niffy's cheery voice startled me. "Alastor wants you to join him downstairs." Then she disappeared before I had the chance to ask why. It amazed me that someone so cheerful and sweet actually enjoyed being employed by Alastor. She talked about him as if he was more than just an employer—as if he was a friend. Maybe they were.

I tugged at the collar of my green shirt and walked to the top of the first set of stairs. Alastor wanted me to join him, not see him. Was that a slip of Niffty's tongue or had he been particular about his wording? The answer didn't matter. I didn't want keep him waiting and slowly, carefully, and quietly, descended the stairs. 

I kept my hands close to my chest as the steps creaked under my weight. My footclaws burned slightly and my curiosity tried to override my nerves unsuccessfully, screaming at me to hide instead of walking straight into the wolf's den without a flashlight.

I rounded the banister and promptly froze in place. 

Alastor was sitting by the fire with a radio on a small table beside him. He wore a black long sleeve that reached his red tipped claws and hugged his neck. His legs were crossed elegantly over each other, cradling the collection of papers and a single book in his lap. Sitting on the bridge of his nose was a pair of round, normal colored glasses and the smile on his face looked like one of content. He looked incredibly comfortable, dare I say cozy.

His eyes glanced up at me through the new set of glasses. He actually looked like he was trying to refrain from smiling. He lifted his head all the way, the edges of his hair swaying with the movement, and folded his hands over each other. "Something the matter, dear? You might catch a fly if you keep your mouth open like that."

I clamped my jaw shut.

"Come sit," he invited, gesturing to the couch adjacent to him. "Storm Season is by far the most boring time of the year."

I unstuck my feet from the floor and moved closer. My eyes refused to look anywhere but him and relied on my peripherals to get me safely to the couch. I sat on the side closest to him but not quite on the edge. I pressed my knees firmly together, and my hands, and sat as straight as a stick.

Alastor leaned his elbow on the armrest of his chair and rested his chin on the back of his hand. His eyelids were half closed as he said, "What's with the staring, my dear?"

"You're...I've never...You have new glasses," I went with instead. I tried—I really did—to keep my eyes trained on his but I wanted to examine every bend in the fabric that hugged his lean muscles in the warm firelight. I wanted to trail my eyes down his arms and hook on his smooth hand that crested the edge of the other armrest like a puzzle piece. I wanted to trail my eyes down his long legs—

"I think it's more than just my glasses," he pointed out. My eyes jumped up to his and my cheeks reddened. 

"You're just...you're dressed differently." I looked down at my lap then at anything on the other half of the room, as if there was anything that could possibly interest me more than Alastor in nearly all black.

"Yes, well..." He sighed and shifted in his seat to get more comfortable. "When I'm not out and about keeping my district together, I tend to choose more comfortable clothing." 

"That's good."

That's good? That's GOOD? What the hell kind of answer is that?

We fell into awkward silence, letting the crackle of the fire and the hum of the radio and the berating rain fill in. There was a crackle of thunder here and there that made me jump each time. I had never liked thunderstorms. To be honest, any loud noises could scare me after living a quiet life in a tiny bunker in the middle of nowhere. There was nothing loud about nature except these storms.

"If you would like..." Alastor broke the silence, briefly looking up from his papers, "you may look at the shelves for anything that is of interest to you. They're books I've collected over the years."

My eyes latched onto the bookshelf beside the fireplace. With nothing else to do, and given a rather obvious out, I went over to examine the old books. They weren't nearly as ancient as my archive but they dated at least two decades based on the fraying of their pages and worn covers. Some were in Old World language but there were a few in Common Tongue. They were novels; stories!

I pinched the corner of one and removed it from the shelf. My eyes expertly scanned the handwriting on the first few pages. Printing had yet to make an appearance in our time, but maybe that was something I could fix. The handwriting was relatively neat and the summary on the first page made it seem interesting enough of a read. It was a copy of a book that dated before the Great Decline. Humans were so funny in their way of trying to preserve stories.

"They may be fictional but we can still use them to understand our ancestors," Alastor said from his chair. I spared him a glance before settling on the couch again. "Don't you agree?" He snapped his fingers to summon my reading glasses from upstairs and rested them on the cushion beside me.

"I do," I replied, picking up the glasses then finding the edges of the paper to turn to the first chapter. I managed to read a few pages before the words started to blur together. Alastor was sitting quietly, yet his presence—or rather his magic—filled the room with static that made my hair stand up. He was a full length away from me but it felt like he was looking over my shoulder, like his very mind beat through the floorboards and breathed through the walls.

Alastor wasn't oblivious to the tension that loomed overhead. His eyes constantly drifted between you and his pen and paper. Your shoulders were tense, your legs pressed firmly together, and fingers white from the pressure you were applying to the book. It unnerved him and he had to swallow the anger that dared to rise.

She should be more relaxed, he thought to himself. What else could he do to put you more at ease?

"I suppose boredom isn't a terrible thing." 

Truth. Truth seemed to scrape away at your walls before, so maybe this time it would work, too.

"What do you mean?" You abandoned the page to meet his eyes and he watched the way firelight seemed to dance across them. 

"Rosie calls it 'forced downtime'," he explained, glancing at his radio. "There's no meetings for me to attend to, no responsibilities to fulfill aside from making sure my mages are on their best behavior, and no threats to manage from the other districts who are also on lockdown. It's the most uneventful time of the year but..." He rubbed his fingers together. "It allows me to focus on other things."

"I thought you hated being bored."

"I do." He nodded with a smile. "But when my attention is on something...on someone...it's not so bad."

I immediately looked back at the book. No tricks. I couldn't fall into his emotional trap. He was just saying that to...to what? To get me to reveal something? What secrets did I have left to hide that he hadn't dug up and picked apart?

"You used to do that a lot, you know," he went on, not waiting for me to prompt him further. "Whenever I said something that was even remotely close to a compliment, you would look somewhere else. As if believing it would vanish if you ignored me long enough."

"I do it when I'm thinking, too," I muttered.

"Yes, well, you did a lot of that, too." His smile dulled a little as he pointedly looked at my tense, shriveled form. "And you would look me in the eyes."

"I still do." I sounded insulted as I met his eyes just to prove him wrong. My throat constricted at the look he was giving me. It was bridging annoyance, but held a mixture of wanting behind it.

"At least you don't haunch around your work anymore." He tapped his classes with the click of a claw on metal to enunciate his point. "It's no wonder you have bad posture."

"My posture is just fine." I leaned back into the couch cushion, eyes looking him up and down as the tip of a remark dared to jump off my tongue. Instead, I breathed in quickly and looked down at the book.

"Say it," he commanded with a daring smile.

"Say what?" I grumbled and flipped a page. 

"Say what you were going to say."

"I wasn't gonna say anything." 

"Liar. Go on, say what was on your mind. I'd love to hear what insult you managed to come up with."

"How do you know it was an insult?" I side-eyed him through my eyelashes.

He shrugged. "I just do. So...?"

The buzz of the radio quieted. He removed his glasses and leaned further on the armrest, closer to me. My heart raced as my smile subconsciously mirrored his. Would he be genuinely annoyed at my insult? Would I have to suffer any consequences for it? We were obviously engaged in a banter so maybe this was where grace came into play?

I shook my head ridiculously. "All I was going to say is that your posture could be a little more like mine. Be a little less...stiff."

"Stiff?" He quirked up an eyebrow, genuinely curious.

"You're as stiff as a stick," I explained. "You used to be more relaxed in my bunker."

He closed his book with the papers in it and placed it next to the radio, perfectly depositing his glasses down as well. "Well I was sporting a chestinjury."

I mimicked his movements and closed my own book, resting my elbow on the armrest of the couch. The glasses came off but I held onto them so my fingers had something to do. "Near the end you were pretty much healed. Your shoulders weren't so stiff and your back...curved—I guess is the right answer? I don't know, you just moved differently."

His smile widened. "Perhaps that can be attributed to your ridiculously low ceilings."

"It's not my fault you're unnaturally tall."

He gave a short laugh. "My dear, in case you haven't noticed by now, you are unnaturally short."

I wrinkled my nose at him. "I'm average."

He laid his arm loosely over the other and his features physically softened. "You're anything but that."

My heartbeat drummed in my ears as butterflies fluttered in my chest. My muscles relaxed without my consent and my eyes held onto his, watching the way the firelight curved around them. The physical space between us seemed to yawn further despite the sudden urge to close it.

This...this was Al. This was the man I had dragged into my bunker. The man who was gentle, understanding, flattering, and who wanted to impress me at every possible turn. The way he was looking at me was kind and appreciative. This was the man who held me in high regard and never looked down at me. This was Al.

Voices on the radio made me jump. I reopened my book as he turned his attention to the device. I forcefully sank into the cushions in an effort to hide, praying that my face wasn't as red as it felt. Maybe the orange firelight would hide it.

Alastor listened for a moment longer before returning the volume back to its original level and answering the recipients through his staff. He gathered up his papers and adjusted his glasses, his eyes catching the glances I stole when I thought he wasn't looking.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Author's Note:

Things are starting to look like our time in the bunker together...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Reflection Readers:

@fynariel

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Taglist:

@drevisrose @until-thedaysof-spring @torustesseract @sirens-and-moonflowers @papas-ghoulette @eris-norwega

[phoenixfire-thewizardgoddess]

Okay, but consider a secret competition amongst sinners in the hotel to try and get a clear and legible picture of the radio demon.

Bonus if you make it a selfie.

It starts not so subtly, with several pic attempts that were just selfies the others were taking and alastor just so happened to be around. Wink wink etc.

It takes him all of three seconds to work out what they're up to and in the spirit of entertainment, doesnt really try to stop them per say. Not directly... but he's also not going to make it easy for anyone either.

A few attempts are thwarted by his shadowstep ability just before the shutter clicks, other times the distortion seems stronger than anticipated. But he hasnt worked it out yet right? Nah they're being super subtle about it and he's always humming something, distracted.

They up the ante.

Holes in books people nonchalantly read on the couch. Hidden camera in a picture frame.

One person attempting an obvious photo while another tries covertly.

Even attempting to sneak into his room (bad idea) which only cost a finger.

Trying to catch him whilst he's cooking and relaxed but those damn ears always twitch upright and swivel their way. Fucking stupid deer powers!

Putting a phone on a timer in certain halls when he's supposed to do maintenance... or on his way to his room.

Making up issues with plumbing for maintenance reasons in your boobytrapped room. But even mid task, he comes out a pixellated mess.

Charlie even tried to get a pic through a series of well angled mirrors whilst alastor was reading page 146 of her latest ideas for redemption activities with a grin so strained you'd think he was contemplating second death by tickling. But he'd done it. Read the qhole 231 pages. Which definitely should have been soporific enough...

Husk tried to trick him into getting too drunk to maintain the filter... to no avail. It made it stronger.

Niffty tried through the vents. Poppets hauled her back out with admonishing finger wagging.

Vaggie tied her phone to the end of her spear and threatened him... and he laughed. At that point they started to suspect he was onto them.

Nothing worked.

Lucifer, because it was annoying him now, tried snapping a pic through the tower windows from several metres in the air because wings. Vaggie kicked herself for forgetting she could also do that...

"Are you quite done with your little teamwork activity?" Alastor asks one evening, startling a few who hadn't realised he'd known. "Really, it was admirable how creative some of you were but i have been putting up with the picture box's attempts for several decades now... i know when a camera is pointing my way. Their frequency is į̸͇̈ͅr̸̻̈̐̈́̈́r̴̳̞̈̓̓î̷̻̍́̔͐t̴̫̱̻͌ä̴̡͈̯͙̻́̄̓t̴̹̠͎͚͙̒̾̉į̷̨̮̟̲̔́n̴͍̬̍̃̌̊ģ̵͚̼͓̠̑̓̊̿̈́..."

"Can i take a pretty picture with you sir?" Niffty asks.

He considers it as several others start protesting that that didn't count if you asked. Angel's stance was that if bribery was allowed, then he had some things to put on the table...

Alastor gave a long-suffering glare and told the spider not to put anything on the table he didnt want to lose to tomorrow night's stew. Angel retorted that at least he could then say he'd told the big bad radio demon to eat a dick and it would be technically true...

The starlet got pained static warble tha made the lights flicker, and a whack over the ear from a truly disgusted Vaggie for that one.

Alastor ultimately declines Niffty's offer. "Afraid not, my dear."

She stomps her foot. "I'll tell Miss Rosie you're not being fair..."

He laughs, "HAH! Please Do. She'll find it simply hilarious... she's been trying for years to do the same and not yet succeeded despite her best efforts. Quite putout about the whole thing."

"You know I could just nullify your little static field thing with a snap of my fingers, right?" Lucifer points out.

There's a pointed blare of an air raid siren in response.

Through narrowed eyes and clenched teeth, Alastor replied, "Of course you would need to resort to cheating to win, i assumed locating a break in the field was half the challenge... or is that too tall a task for you, your lowness?"

"The fuck did you call me, sinner?!"

"Someone who seems to like the easy way out, is that not accurate?"

"Okay now you've done it, say goodbye to your little radiowaves cause this is a royal timeout!"

"Stop." Charlie commands, freezing the two men in their tracks, one about to snap his fingers and the other manifesting shadow tendrils to try and rip his majesty's face off.

Maybe wearing that would confuse cameras until the king saw sense?

"I'm sorry if we got too competitive and it impacted your privacy, Al. I should have checked you would be okay with this, knowing you've already been dealing with a stalker..." Charlie said, chagrined. "And dad, I should have remembered how competitive you get over these sorts of things. But that's not an excuse. Neither of you have the right to be so rude to each other. Now apologise!"

"I would rather go vegan, my dear. " Alastor drawled, the strained grin easing slightly as the tendrils receeded into his flesh.

"And I'd rather you stay away from my daughter, you manipulative pinstriped fatherfucker, but here we are. " Lucifer spread his arms wide, theatrically, before deflating and rubbing his temples. "So I'm... sorry for threatening to tear your powers away, I didn't like it when heaven tried that with me. But I will get that picture. There has to be a way."

Alastor's expression flitted from fury to intrigue and then a general neutrality. "Well, if you can be cordial... so can I, I suppose. For Charlotte. I apologise for intending to rip your face off." He sees the blanche on Charlotte's face.

"Ah, I believe my apology was supposed to be around persistently mocking your stature, your tiny-but-mightiness. Apologies, then... but if it will soothe any hurt feelings I will tell you all a secret... there is at least one time when my distortion is not active. Two, if you count being dead, ha hah!" He pointedly ignored Charlie's flinch at his statement. "However I must stress that neither instance involves sleeping or bathing so do please understand that any further attempts to enter my rooms unbidden will be met with harsh penalties."

"Awww..." Angel pouts, then waggles his eyebrows. "I got an idea how to catch you offguard, radio daddy..."

There was a loud audience booing sound from the cane. "No, thank you. Now if that is all, I have a broadcast this evening to prepare for... hmmm?"

Alastor left in a cascade of shadows.

"Do you think he meant when he was broadcasting? Maybe when his signal is already bouncing across the rings, the distortion goes quiet?" Husk says.

"You mean Pride ring only, right? None of these overlords should have the power to reach other rings." Lucifer frowns.

"If you got tv or radio down there in the other rings, that's on vox and alastor. They're the source of it for some reason... apart from my collar, the fact that the phones and radios still worked while he was gone was a good indicator of him still being alive. Otherwise it'd be dead air. Vox can't push his tv as strongly without the ambient support, not with how vast his network is nowadays." Husk shrugs.

"Thats not how sinners are designed to work, how did that even happen? I would have noticed."

"Maybe its not strong enough to catch your attention when you're hyperfocused on other projects?" Charlie offered.

"Maybe. Alright, I actually have to go stop your Aunties in Envy from rampaging, duckling, but I'll be back by dinner. If not, send Vaggie and her spear, I might need the backup." Lucifer smiled, clapping his hands and summoning a portal to a very blue looking place.

If he left it for a few seconds longer to let the sinners see what another ring looked like, who could fault him?

----

Alastor switched out the record and returned to this evening's topic of discussion... Dismemberment: the right tools for your (or their) bodytype. He allowed his larger self to slip the confines of the soul-ly physical and expand out into the radio waves. Much like with his shadows, he could exist as something intangible but definitely alive and aware.

The soothing sensation was ruined by the flicker of several cameras going off around his body, snapping him back like a rubber band. Someone would get eaten for this at the next music break.

He continued the light hearted patter about ensuring you had a hacksaw the same length as your arm and no more to disjoint, because too large and you'd end up tired before you got through the first joint! Too short and it would add hours onto the task.

In the background, several people screamed as shadow tendrils pulled them from the ceiling, vents, in the record cupboard and under his writing desk to toss them out of the recording booth.

The tendrils jabbed pointedly at the On Air sign before retreating.

There were groans of disappointment when several photos were checked and found to have nothing of note to report.

Really... he'd outright told them as much!

Well, seems he may have to try showering at Rosie's tonight if no one was willing to behave. The indignity of being known...

Out the window he spied a number of drones gathering. Hmmm, the television was being bothersome... perhaps a stroll would be in order?

---

Attempting an aerial shot whilst the sinner was distracted in conversation admidst town didn't work out how Vaggie had hoped. She texted the messy attempt to Charlie with a sad emoji face.

The smug fucker then grinned right up at her! The audacity!

She did have to glide through several obnoxious whirring things on the way back to the hotel that removed a few feathers much to her chagrin. Well, at least they needed a preening anyway and Charlie liked the task...

---

Tremors were the first warning that something had gone wrong.

Angel bursting through the front doors calling out that there was an Overlord battle a few blocks over, was the second. He'd been halfway to the hotel, after Val had called him in for a quick fuck and to try on a new little number that Velvette had whipped up for the next club night, when power had shorted out in every direction.

Explosive lightning and laughter echoed around the place, and he (like any sinner with half a braincell to their name) skedaddled to safety. You did NOT wanna get between the bigwigs throwing down.

Pink smoke had begun to flood the area, and he'd vaguely wondered if Valentino and Vox were havving a public breakup again. It happened a few times a year... but they didn't normally get this out of hand.

Speaking of...

There was a wet spine-rattling thud as a large purple arm crunched into the ground outside, destroying part of the driveway. Vaggie swore in frustration, Charlie reminded her that her dad could fix this in a snap, it'd be fine!

There's a rather animalistic roar, and then a too-familiar static shriek, and a rending bone sound that was far too visceral for anyone's mental health as another arm was half ripped off the gargantuan moth overlord.

Vox intersecting Alastor by blasting him with concentrated electricity to drive the Radio Demon from his partner. Allowing Valentino to grab hold of an extended antler and tear it off with several of his hands.

He lost a chunk of flesh for that, but loudly taunted Alastor over this little victory. Buildings were annihilated as wings spread, only for them to fall into shreds as a massive pale creature of too many teeth and voidless eyes enlarged into the battle.

"Is that... Rosie?" Charlie felt her jaw fall open at the revelation.

Niffty was giggling beside her, and patted her hand kindly. "She's really REALLY good at biting when she gets all big!"

"Er... I can see that..." she murmurs back, seeing the way half of Vox's massive screen was shattered into cracked, bleeding lines by her primary jaws. Talons grappling at the moth's wings.

Quite the multitasker.

Alastor's own assualt on the moth pivoted to Vox, as the television clearly readied a charge for Rosie. Tendrils hurled the overlord away and into a nearby 'parkland' (that sinners rarely attended because if the plants didn't kill you, the animals would eat you alive). Several angry fire-breathing ducks set parts of his coat abalze for disturbing their nesting area.

The pair grappled at one another, tearing bloody gouges, blasting static in a way that seemed painful, and using their powers to shred the other. As Rosie circled Valentino, or what was left of him, and deftly tore pieces apart. Without his guns, and when his size didn't give an advantage... he wasn't the best fighter.

Rosie would shred his tongue if he tried to dose her with his venom, and the smoke didn't do much for them at their size. A mild calming effect at best. Probably for the best, who wants an overlord suddenly desperate for stimulation raising your insurance premiums in a way that would have the imp on the other end of the phoneline howling with laughter at the reason for your claim?

In any case, it's a mess over there.

Vox finally seems to be unable to fight back and there's a moment where it looks like Alastor might just kill the man... when Valentino manages to knock Rosie right into the Radio Demon, sending both into a barely-standing office block.

Valentino, what's left of him, maintains a protective stance over Vox, who is starting to lose size. The cannibals grin, acting rather like possessed dolls as they unhinge their jaws and launch forwards, tearing chunks off the nearest wings.

He claws back, violently, and bites at them. Not with the finesse of others, but enough to disorient as some small faction of his spit hits their bloodstreams. Not enough, not when they're titanic in size... but enough to give them a split second's pause as the world tilts slightly, and he jams a claw into Rosie's abdomen.

She snarls, her teeth clacking on bone as she bites at what she can reach. Alastor bites the moth's throat, hard, an audible crunch of windpipe is heard even as Valentino's scrabbling gouges out an eye.

Vaggie has to turn away or throw up, trapped in her own head.

A cry of outrage as the whole powergrid goes dark and a semi-recovered Vox unleashes it at his adversaries, sending the pair reeling. The barely-alive remains of Valentino disappear as he shrinks, a tattered almost-corpse whose flesh sits between painfully clenched teeth as the enlarged overlords are turned into conduits for everything pentagram city has to offer.

"What the fuck did I just portal back to?" Lucifer breaks in, startling more than a few of the horrified spectators.

"I don't... know. One minute we were in here and then Valentino's arm landed outside and... this." Charlie murmurs, bewildered and worried as she sees the two overlords she actually likes start to smoke, char and even catch fire from the sustained charge. "Can we do something? Can we interfere or does that put them at greater risk?"

"We can't. If someone challenges an overlord they can't really turn it down without losing their status, or their life. Part of the whole schtick I really hated most. One minute you're having breakfast, next some whacky motherfucker with a disco theme and some sort of ice powers comes bursting into your house demanding to fight. You just gotta." Husk replied, watching the whole shitshow with a detachment born of too many years of exactly this mess. "I think it'll turn around though."

"And Rosie won't get in trouble for interfering? Or, does that mess with Al's status?"

"Nah, if it's 2 on 1, you can call on an ally to fight them. Or take them on yourself if you're strong enough. I've fought alongside Al more than once, when another triad or duo or whatever upstart overlord group decides to take him on without any notice. Pentious wasn't the most powerful up and comer, but he was usually pretty polite about his attacks; if you let him know you really couldn't do a battle right this instant, he was always open to scheduling one in for later. Think that's why Al never really hurt him, when he could've. You don't punch down and all."

"Oh please, that guy would punch babies if he had half a chance..." snarked Lucifer, automatically.

Husk snorted, but rolled his eyes. "Actually, your majesty, you touch a kid wrong around him or rosie there and they'll turn you inside out. It's fascinating in a way that ruins any chance you'll ever have of sleeping again without seeing it behind your eyelids."

But Rosie and Alastor are moving against the current, and it must surely end soon. The power substations and relays were already exploding all over the city from such a massive drain.

Vox was snatched up and held aloft in a shadow tendril that seemed to glitch a little too hard for cosmetic effect. Rosie delicately snagged up a purple and red thing that must be Valentino.

Whatever they were saying, was lost... but voices grew angry, then frustrated, then petulant... and finally, something blue and lust pink passed from the defeated to the other overlords. Reparations, one would assume.

Almost courteously, Rosie and Alastor then carefully returned Vox and Valentino to a semi-destroyed floor of Vee Tower. Where a rather infuriated Velvette was standing, looking ready to tear everyone involved apart.

Rosie made pleasantries with the younger overlord, and then nodded. The pair moving away from the tower as they began to shrink, shadows overtaking them from the ground up.

"Incoming." Husk warned.

A writhing black pool of shadow coalesced behind them all, inside the lobby and just enough away from the doors as to be hard to see from outside. It spread and shrank, like a too-slow heartbeat.

Eventually disgorging two pale, worse-for-wear overlords flat on the floor in a mix of blood and viscera. Neither appeared conscious, not properly, at any rate.

"Oh shit... how do we even fix this?! Can we...? Niffty, can you get the first aid kit? Ohgosh I can't remember the last time I went to aunty bel's triage training course!" Charlie began to panic.

Vaggie was at a loss. Exterminators didn't GET hurt, at least so they believed, so this was... well, shit, she didn't know what to do?

Husk and Niffty were already in the thick of it before anyone except mabe Angel snapped out of the momentary surprise. The starlet used a disinfectant by the kit and then got stuck in, he'd seen weirder shit when he was in the Family and you couldn't duck off to a doctor, not to mention what they did to the snitches. And of course, you got good at fixing yourself and others up under Val...

He compresses where husk tells him to, all six hands needed for this endeavour. Heh, Angel was gonna be able to brag he'd played a fucked up game of twister with two overlords and be telling the absolute truth. Niffty was wiping at blood with her cloths and dousing anything she could reach in antiseptic. Angel winced and thanked everything these guys seemed utterly out of it.

There was a very pointed whirring click, almost too quiet to notice... but it caught everyone's attention. Lucifer was staring at his phone screen, eyebrow raised.

"He didn't lie... looks like there's one specific situation where the distortion doesn' work." The king explained, fascinated, and honestly a bit perturbed. "Was he expecting one of us to fight him to find out or what? Maybe he does need like, hug therapy or something, Char Char."

"Can you delete that as fast as possible, your majesty? I dunno if he's conscious but Vox is kinda connected to all phones and devices from Voxtech... and if he saw this, well,it'd be all over Pride in the hour. And then we wouldn't be able to keep sinners from trying their luck on rising to Sovereign real fucking fast." Husk said, putting a patch over empty eye sockets so there was at least something keeping out infection until everything reformed.

"He... what? Wouldn't they go after the tv and the moth first?" Lucifer frowned. None of this made sense.

"Yes, and no. See Vox and Val have a lot of airtight contracts keeping them safe in their tower and territory, there's also Velvette who's a goddamn nightmare when she fights. Not to mention, if the two overlords they fought left 'em alive, then a small piece of their protection extends to the spared overlord until they're healed. Or at least mobile. Because to hurt them would be to defy what Al and Rosie wanted by keeping 'em alive, right? It's all politics and backstabbing nonsense." Husk rambled, watching Niffty sew up some rather deep lacerations from the muscle up.

"That's ridiculous."

"That's keeping every one of 'em safe right now."

"Okay, I deleted the picture and emptied my bin. Did you need me to ward it or something?"

"Should be okay. It's YOUR phone after all. Any of us did it, Vox'd know immediately... also yeah, he's probably seen your nudes, so you have to move through the stages of grief on that one on your own. It's not a sex thing, he just values information and turns it into targeted ads. Wasn't nearly as twisted before he joined the Vees."

"That's... not comforting. At all."

"Never said it was. Hey, can you like, heal people? Even enough to give these two a jumpstart? I saw they ate some of Val and Vox, and got some souls in their bargaining, but it might not be enough to fix them given how little blood is on the inside right now."

"He's right, Short King, there's more in the carpet based on ow weak everyone's pulses are. Wonder what the fuck triggered a fight like that?" Angel adds, whistling and trying for flippancy despite the internal panic. This was bad. Like, these two hurt was bad, yeah, but Val being hurt that bad was Real Bad and it was public too... he was going to reduce the studio workers to bloody messes when he got back together.

"...hrrkkkk..." chattered the staff, startling more than a few as Lucifer deigned to ruining his white trousers by kneeling next to Rosie. His hands glowed, and something passed from himself to her, sealing a few of the more superficial wounds and lessing the severity of others. The rest was up to her, of course... but it helped.

Angel felt his chain manifest, and his heart leapt into his throat... until he noticed it trained down to a point on the floor between the downed overlords. It was an odd mishmash of green and a dusky pink that suited Rosie well.

"...renegotiated some assets in the ceasefire..."

Lucifer was reluctantly it must be admitted, holding glowing hands over Alastor with less than stellar enthusiasm. Still, whatever he was doing seemed to have aimed right for the eye socket because that fleshed out quickly enough.

"You two got my contract? From Val? Why? What? I mean, I don't do chicks unless I get paid double, but for this I'm willing to give a discount..." he laughed, semi-hysterical. Which only increased as the chain shattered. His heart was thundering. "What the fuck...?"

The bodies under the hands of so many were shuddering back to life. Clearly more mentally aware than physically at the moment, but that was rapidly changing as the moments wore on.

"...if someone wouldn't mind... getting me a bloody mary... I rather need to flush the taste of... insect from my mouth..." Rosie quips stiltedly, sitting up. "It's like those chalky candies, if they also had a hint of grasshopper. And those wings! I'd rather dust my house with my tongue than do that again."

Husk grumblingly went to grab one now the immediacy of the moment had passed.

"Hmmm, this... feels too much like we're surrounded by bleeding hearts, Rosie dear... so I'm going to hazard a guess we didn't rematerialise anywhere near Susan." Alastor said, sititng up and opening the functional eye warily. "Ah, blast. Do-Gooders. I think I can get us to your emporium if you give me a moment..."

"Noooooo no! Please don't go anywhere you're safe here!" Charlie interjects, having found her voice again as things progressed. "I mean, I'm angry about whatever that was out there and we will be talking about it, but... you're safe here, and I can't believe you managed to free Angel somehow, but there was so much blood so I need you to stop trying to get up or I'm going to have a panic attack!"

"This is, literally, nowhere near the worst thing that has ever happened to either of us, Charlotte dear. Don't worry your pretty head over it." Rosie assured, checking on the tattered state of her attire. "Well, this won't do..." She snaps a new outfit for herself.

Alastor glances down at his own and the ever-present smile is tight. "Ah, yes... one moment, it's quite improper to be seen in such a state of undress." His clothes mend easily over the bandages and fading scars thereunder.

Husk courteously hands Rosie her drink and after a moment of lashing his tail, gave Alastor his preferred Rye. He then had to grab them before either overlord could down them in one gulp, because suddenly Angel was a trembling mess in their arms. Or rather, they were trapped in all six of his.

Rosie reacted with a soothing tone and gentle patting. Alastor appeared to be frozen, like a buffering webpage, before relaxing enough to pat the sobbing creature on the back.

"Oh sugar, I'm pleased our negotiations got you out of that bind but it wasn't just you. All Valentino's stars and a few of the more annoyingly important members of Vox's staff are ours now, to free or renegotiate terms with in whatever way we see fit." She leans in close to share a stage whisper. "We just set you free first 'cause Als fond of you. that's all."

"Don't go giving him ideas, Rosie, he keeps making sexual offers at me as it is." Alastor's tone is mildly strained at that, and she laughs at him. "Oh? Should I perhaps go and tell Rosie you suddenly want to spend time discussing her concerns for town each Tuesday at noon?"

Rosie gasped. "You wouldn't dare, I'd tear you limb from limb!"

"Oh I would, now stop encouraging this emotional... whatever this is and do your soothing thing so he'll let go."

"Pfft, Angel Dust would you mind releasing us? I know you're thinking through a lot in that head of yours but if you show too much affection in Al's direction, he may catch fire. Or, worse, he'll set susan on me." Rosie cajoles, until Angel feels able to transition over to the waiting arms of husk.

"I'm also kinda worried about what Val's gonna do when he reforms... normally if he loses something, or gets caught in public, he takes it out on his contracts." Angel admits. "Sometimes he has bits of you torn off for more fucked up videos, and sometimes he just fuck ya til... til you gotta reform. He can get through a whole studio when he's in a rage."

"Never you mind that, he agreed to our renegotiation and now all the contracts have to be approved through us. New and old, and the first thing we demanded was an enthusiastic consent clause, any attempt to void it will breach contract and we will be forced to eat the fool."

"With the right spices, I'm sure we can bear the indignity." Alastor commisserates.

Charlie squeaks in delight. "Are you saying Valentino can't hurt anyone anymore? His souls?"

"Not unless they give consent, and only until they say stop or revoke it in some way." Alastor shrugs, already mentally thumbing through his cookbooks for the right recipe for the moth. Let's be real, he won't last a week without trying something, and then it will be insect for dinner.

"What started this off?" Vaggie asked, suspicious gaze on Alastor.

"Oh, you will love this Vagatha..." he pauses for dramatic effect. "You did! All of you with your little camera game trying to take a photo, it somehow sent Vox into quite the spiral of jealous rage, and he tried to use drones to 'win'. When that failed, the fool confronted me as I was out on a leisurely walk with Rosie..."

"Right through the entertainment district, huh? What a strange route to take from the hotel to cannibal town." Husk quips at them, not falling for their shit for a moment.

"Indeed, how strange that Vox and his paramour waylaid us as we accidentally moved through their territory." Alastor shrugged, and stiffened as that pulled at more than a few stitches. "Ah well, mistakes were made... like those idiots assuming they could confront us and not be dealt with accordingly! Ha-HAH!"

"Are they going to hurt the hotel?" Lucifer jumps in, glaring at the overlords.

"No, and any anger will be aimed directly at Rosie and myself.The residents are safe..." Alastor replied.

Rosie claps her hands, "Oh in all the excitement I forgot that Vox was forced to promise that any reporting he completes on the hotel or associated residents will be neutral at the least, unless he wants to face reprisal. He was quite put out."

They laugh again, the sound as jovial as it was exhausted.

Charlie seemed to be dealing with a whirring mind. "Wait, that's ah-mayyyyy-zing! But... this was our fault? The game triggered all of..." she gestures at the blood and chaos before her, "THIS?!"

Husk returned the glasses, and both overlords swigged it down to chase away lingering bad tastes. The feline watched them, but merely took the glasses withour an offer to refill. he's not handling drunken, injured overlords whose tolerance was as low right now as their percentage of blood inside their bodies.

"Don't worry about it, dear. Vox would have found any reason at all to confront me, that's just how he is. Have you concluded your game yet, though? I would assume at least one of you has worked out that the distortion field is nullified by circumstances wherein the power is required to heal or manage damage. Hmm? I would..." he paused like the word was acidic, 'trust... that you will not be sharing that with Vox? He would devote his afterlife to ensuring I could never block his view again, the perverted voyeur."

"Of course we won't!" Charlie assures.

"I might, if you keep making short jokes." Lucifer says, just to be contrary.

"Now Alastor are you treating a man of his majesty's stature with anything less than respect? He's going to get short with you." Rosie deadpanned, not quite stiffling her laughter.

Lucifer dragged a hand down his face. "Oh Father, there's two of you..."

He was just preparing to send them to sleep for a little healing nap, and to stop them from mocking him again but that was definitely not the main focus here. Of course not.

When Rosie frowned and put a hand to her temple, swaying into an equally confused Alastor. He was glaring at the bartender... but only momentarily as the pair ffell bonelessly onto the floor again. Dazed and blinking slowly a few more times before succumbing to sleep.

Lucifer grinned at the cat. "You dosed them in their drinks? Devious."

"You ain't never had to deal with how infuriatingly peppy those two get when healing, all manic energy until they collapse in the middle of some important task and things go to shit. Easier to let them sleep it off and regain a bit of power first. Can't recall the last time I had to do that... think I used something in a sinner meat sandwich then, though."

"Alright, can we at least get them somewhere comfortable and safe? I don't like that they're laying back in their own blood again..." Charlie interjects. She has an expression on her face that said she was going to Talk to husk very shortly about drink spiking, even if it was necessary.

Angel, still shuddering with aftershocks of relief and fear and just general Holy Shit I'm Free, bends to collect up the Radio Demon as Lucifer deftly carries Rosie into the staff-only lounge area to set them down.

"What?" Lucifer says, when a few people glance at him in surprise. "Char Char, your mother is taller than Rosie, and I managed to carry her around for millennia with no issue... heck, I could carry both of them if I wanted to. now let's get them clean so we don't ruin the upholstery..."

With a snap the newly conjured clothes and sinner's flesh is wiped free of all traces of grime. Only scars, bandages and bruises remain. Rapidly healing before their eyes.

"Niffty, can you fix the stain by the door?" Niffty?" Vaggie looks all over and the maid is just Gone.

So is the stain.

"How did she do that?" the ex-orcist shuddered.

"That's my secret!" comes a barely-sane sing-song tone from the wall to her left, making Vaggie startle. "I cleaned it real good!"

"That you did, kiddo." Husk agreed, unaffected by the horror movie style situation. "Now come outta there so you can take a nap with Al and Rosie, I know you wanna."

"I can?" she gasps and pops out, heading right for the couches the pair were draped upon. She seemed at a loss, but ultimately picked up Alastor's staff and curled up on Rosie, falling fast asleep with her eye wide open.

"That's terrifying and cute. What the fuck is wrong with me that I think that's sorta sweet?" Vaggie murmured.

"So, you get to sleep on Smiles, or can I take one for the team?" Angel nudges Husk in the side and grins.

Husk rolls his eyes. "If you wanna get eaten, sure. I mean, he'd let me, s'long as I purr at some point, but like niffty I wouldn't go putting pressure on those chest wounds til they healed."

Angel's mouth was open. "He what?! Is it a pressure thing? Cause I am very good at playing weighted blanket... and also, go back to the part where you purr?"

"Let's not. And let's be real, if we need something about Niffty sized, his majesty would be the ideal sacrificial... goat or serpent, I guess."

Charlie seemed to adopt a puzzled, musing expression there as if trying to picture it. Vaggie was clearly doing so and her expression was both amused... and haunted.

Husk grinned maliciously at the King, who was spluttering in horror back at the cat. "I mean, if you want to get technical... sure. But the fight they'd have on Al realising it wasn't Niffty wearing a weird hat for some reason, would be legendary. The hotel might not survive."

"I could get behind that..." Angel murmured, picturing something no one wanted to ask about in detail. "I could get Fat Nuggets though, if you think it'd help?"

"...actually, I think someone volunteered already." Husk replied, amused as KeeKee took the chance to sit on the ever-warm Radio Demon. he only ever pet her in private, of course because the Big Bad Reputation might take a hit if he's seen being kind to animals and not punching crying babies or something.

"Okay, I know he'd hate it, but I really wanna take a photo right now..." Charlie groaned, frustrated at the impulse but t was soooo cute and her drawings never came out quite right.

"And start this mess all over again? No thanks. I've had enough of an emotional rollercoaster today!" Angel jokes back, collpasing into an armchair and only vaguely eyeing the drink husk brings him with suspicion. "Reckon I need someone to sit in my lap and purr for me, yeah?"

He nearly drops the drink when Husk does. In full loaf form.

Alastor's cane crackled to life. "Get the picture. You may never get another chance, my dear!"

Charlie frantically takes a number of rapid-fire shots of the rather serious looking Husker and the truly blessed and slightly dazed Angel Dust.

"Char-Char, today has been ridiculous, I think we should all sit down for an hour and just relax. Sound good?" Lucifer offers, conjuring more plush furniture as his daughter and her girlfriend sink into the softness of a couch. He wiggles between them and wraps his wings around the pair, drawing them in.

"That looks cozy as fuck, I'd be jealous if I didn't have a lapful of gorgeous man." Angel mumbles, half-asleep already. Lucifer realised the rest of them were still a mess and snaps away the remaining blood and grime. "Thanks short king, lemma suck ya-..." it trails off into a soft snore.

"Phew, that could have been weird." Lucifer mumbled, feeling Charlie rest her head on his shoulder and snuggle close. Vaggie tried, but was somewhat stiffer, until he made a rather pointed soft trill that angels shared when roosting with one another. And she settled instantly.

"Okay, maybe sinners aren't all bad... even if they do insane shit that turns out altruistic in the end." He murmurs, looking at the two overlords, who stirred lightly but settled easily enough when Niffty and KeeKee redistributed their weight accordingly.

"...high praise... from a not-too-terrible father..." crackles the cane.

It makes Lucifer laugh, rather than furious. "Oh, coming from you Captain daddy issues?"

Angel murmurs something suspiciously like "...c'n be ya daddy...' before his head lolls.

Lucifer can't contain the snort. "Alright, will you actually go to sleep if I put on one of your radios?"

"...deal, your Majesty."

With a snap, something slow and soft fills the air, coercing the last few eyes to close after such an oddly eventful afternoon. At least it was never boring around here.

---

End

Random idea i had, not meant to be THIS LONG, couldnt work out how to end it, its 1am fml

[novastar-creations]

Reconsidering some things about my au jaja

Context: During the Krang invasion the lair was destroyed by some Krang zombies searching for the Key - while Sister Krang was chasing April and Splinter, the zombies tore the lair apart. The Hamatos then need to find a new lair.

NOTE: this is based on what I know about underground structures in my area, so if it’s inaccurate to what exists in America, tell me please!

Pros and cons below the cut, I encourage you to read before you vote

The pros and cons are measured both logistically and from the pov of what I want to do as both an artist and a storyteller

Sewer

- Pros: people know it, and it’s classic, who needs plumbing when you live in the sewer?

- Cons: could come off as unoriginal and overused. Also Donnie probably wouldn’t want to go back there given the hygiene issues - once you have sewage free housing, you never wanna go back. No power outlets as well.

Metro/subway system

- Pros: Semi-familiar environment without having to worry about figuring out the complete layout from the movie, plumbing

- Cons: done before, no power outlets, crap insulation/ventilation

Parking garage

- Pros: roomy, with a lot of potential for layout. Also usually has elevators and ramps, so disability friendly (yay!) - big help for Leo, who’s on crutches, space for the turtle tank

- Cons: No ventilation, no power points, laying out things could be difficult due to the general constraints of a parking garage, plus would require building to make room layouts, which is a lot to put on teenagers after they saved the world from aliens

Storage

- Pros: roomy, with separate spaces, power outlets in some areas, space for the turtle tank

- Cons: no ventilation, all of said “seperate spaces” are usually the same size, all of the spaces’ doors are probably locked and might have random stuff in them

Theatre basement*

- Pros: power outlets, interesting environment, probably has working plumbing bc dressing rooms and backstage toilets, direct access to NYC, might have a parking garage nearby for the turtle tank

- Cons: creepy, lots of random theatre stuff, restricted/limited space, often labyrinthine and confusing

*this makes no sense to anyone who hasn’t worked backstage before but yes, sometimes theatres have basements instead of a normal backstage area, and yes, they are terrifying - sometimes they’re a labyrinth of tunnels to get from one side of the stage to the other, and sometimes they’re a mass of interconnected rooms that if you mapped them out, they’d probably look like a poorly drawn diagram of the human digestive system made by someone with absolutely zero understanding of human anatomy. It depends on the type of theatre.

Shopping mall

- Pros: lots of space with separated rooms of varying sizes, power outlets, working plumbing, ventilation, food court so no worries about having to move in/build new cooking appliances

- Cons: pushing the suspension of disbelief a bit, not a lot of space for the turtle tank, unless you wanna demolish the food court (which I can’t see Mikey being very okay with tbh) (might be able to have an underground parking garage nearby???)

[danzersplumbing]

Point Cook plumbing services

For residents of Point Cook plumbing services, Danzer’s Plumbing & Gas Services stands out as the trusted choice. Known for their professionalism, reliability, and comprehensive plumbing solutions, Danzer’s Plumbing & Gas Services caters to both residential and commercial clients, ensuring that every job is done right the first time. Why Choose Danzer’s Plumbing Services in…

[untrustynickel]

Some Hotel OJ residents assigned chores headcanons (because Paper and Oj needs help god DAMN)

- Soap at some point insisted on doing a lot of cleaning generally, but was asked to not put that much work on herself after she'd often exhaust herself. Now shes designated to just make sure the bathrooms are clean and stocked.

- Nickel picks up any loose trash from the halls/rooms, gets particular about recycling vs trash

- Cooking duties get rotated but often Baseball, Pickle, Knife, Bomb, or Lightbulb are on it - Box vacuums the carpets, no one knows how he does or when but sometimes the vacuum will just be moved/full, and he waits for someone to empty it before he does again - Fan organizes the games, books, etc - Turns out Tissues is pretty good at handling money and paperwork, he budgets the groceries/maybe does taxes (idk if they have taxes but yes) - Trophy ain't do shit!! though Actually might offer to do portrait/special occasion photos sometimes - Pickle and Paper are decently good with home repairs, bigger issues with electrical or plumbing get handed to Test Tube - Mic, Baseball, Cheesy, and more recently Yinyang are typically in charge of laundry - Taco is the hotel racoon /j

[x3aspiration]

my BaCC rules :-)

so i've been mainly posting my BaCC here but i've never posted the rules in full! so here they are :-]

population multiplier :

playable sims X multiplier = population :P

+1 for first community lot

+1 for every 5th (non sim owned) community lot

+1 for each vacation hood

+5 for downtown

+5 for each business district

+5 for each university

how community lots are earned :

- every 4 households a lot is unlocked * must be paid for in full by sims, can be split paid

sims:

- a cas sim unlocked anytime a sim owned business or community lot is placed

- must play every sim, can’t just set sims in sim bin

- can start with any money amount, i generate a number between 0-10

when objects are invented:

- light bulbs/electricity invented when sim has been struck by lightning and gets max logic skill, doesn't matter the order it happens in

- phones invented when a sim has max logic, max mechanical, and full tinkering enthusiasm Or full science enthusiasm

- computers invented when first servo is created and tvs are unlocked , doesn't matter the order

- tvs invented when at least one sim is in journalism and a (separate or same) sim has max creativity and mechanical

- cars invented when the first sim finishes fixing one, fixable ones unlocked when sim reaches full tinkering enthusiasm or a sim with the handy trait has tinkering as oth . *can only be bought from a sim owned car store once unlocked

- kitchen appliances invented when sim in culinary (or has full cuisine enthusiasm) has max mechanical skill

- burglar alarm invented after law career is unlocked and a sim that has max logic or mechanical skill is robbed (if they get the skills after it has to be both) OR when a level 3+ politics career sim gets robbed *a sim has to actively be in the law enforcement career to use burglar alarm

- fire alarm invented after law enforcement career is unlocked and a sim with max logic or mechanical skill has a fire in their home (if they get the skills after it has to be both) OR when a level 3+ politics career sim has a fire *a sim has to actively be in the law enforcement career to use fire alarm

- radios invented when a sim reaches the top of the music career or when two sims are in music . *phones have to be unlocked

- indoor plumbing invented when a sim in the architecture career has max mechanical and max logic skill

- showers invented when a sim with max mechanical and max tinkering enthusiasm has a teenage son

*electricity has to be invented for any of the others to unlock except indoor plumbing & showers

when services are unlocked:

- repairman unlocked when a sim reaches max mechanical

- maid unlocked when a sim reaches max cleaning skill

- nanny unlocked when teen family sim has max cooking skill or when a teen non family sim has max cooking and cleaning

- takeout unlocked when a sim in the culinary career or a rank 5 restaurant owner owns a car

- grocery delivery unlocked after cars have been invented and at least one grocery store community lot is placed

- gardener unlocked when sim has gold gardening badge and max nature enthusiasm or a gold gardening badge and max cleaning skill

- butler unlocked when sim has max cooking and cleaning skill and has a gold talent badge for gardening

- matchmaker unlocked when the first sim to creature transformation happens

- obedience trainer unlocked when sim has full interest points in animals and teaches own pet(s) five tricks

- pet adoption service unlocked when pet store community lot is placed

- adoption service unlocked when a kid is taken by social workers or at 500 population

both phone and car have to be unlocked for all except the matchmaker *phone needed for matchmaker

how to unlock careers:

adventure: spot opened when natural science career is unlocked and when sim goes on vacation for the first time, 4 spots opened when museum is built

athletic: career opened when a sports community lot is built . must have 7+ active points or 6+ active points and OTH is sports

architecture: 2 spots open after 5 (sim owned or not) community lots built, every 10 lots built, and when any hood additions are made

artist: [needs diploma] a spot opens when an art gallery hits rank 5, another at rank 10, or open to any sim who got max creativity before aging to adult

business: spot opens each time a sim owned business reaches rank 10. when 2 sims reach max career is opened for everyone

culinary: 1 spot opens every rank 5 restaurant + 2 spots opened every non sim owned restaurant placed. opens completely when a sim reaches max career AND owns a rank 5 restaurant

criminal: 1 spot opens when first sim is placed, when the town hits 100 population, and 3 spots everytime a sim reaches top of criminal or law enforcement career

dance: two spots open everytime a sim in the music career reaches level 5, or when a sim owned dance studio reaches rank 5 . max spots at once: 6

education: 1 spot opens after first sim reaches child age and a 1 new spot is opened every ten children. sim must have at least two points in every skill to get job. *at least one sim needs to be in career for schools to be open

entertainment: closed until a social venue is placed. open for any sims who get max charisma skill before aging to an adult. open to adults who have max charisma and creativity + a notable reputation

gamer: open to any sim whose OTH is games, only open after computer unlocked

intelligence: spot is opened each time a sim reaches the top of the military, criminal, or politics career

journalism: 1 spot opens each time a sim reaches level 5 of politics career OR is open anytime to a sim who has max charisma and has sold a bestselling novel . 3 spots opens when the tv and when the computer is unlocked . 1 spot opens when a sim reaches top of show business career

law: spot opens the first time a criminal gets busted and after 5 have been busted . two spots open to any sim with max charisma until uni is unlocked , afterwards open to anyone with diploma

law enforcement: spot opens after first break in, at 500 population, every 1000 population after that, and when a criminal career sim reaches max level. 7 spots max, only 2 top career spots open at a time

medical: 1 spot opens when a sim dies of sickness and 1 spot opens when the population reaches 500 . 2 spots open after 5 babies are born, only open to sims with max logic . only 3 spots until uni is unlocked then becomes only open to sims with diplomas, but opened completely

military: see military section below :)

music: 2 spots unlocked when music venue community lot is built, after spot open to any sim with max creativity skill and their OTH is music & dance

natural science: [needs diploma] spot opens each time a sim gets a gold nature badge, sims only eligible if 9 or 10 interest points in nature . spot opens up for anyone each time a sim transforms into a plantsim

oceanography: open to any knowledge(main or 2nd) sim with a gold fishing badge . opens completely when a sim reaches max in natural science

paranormal: [needs diploma] spot opens when a graveyard is built and has a grave in it, when the graveyard has 5 graves, and when the first sim transforms into a witch . afterwards is open to any sim with 9 or 10 paranormal interest points

*Sims can only reach max career level once they've attempted to revive a sim through the Resurrect-O-Nomitron, or if they create a community lot where they allow for their Resurrect-O-Nomitron to be used by the public.

politics: unlocked when the second household is placed, spot only open to: the founder, their relative, or their friend . can only be one top level sim at a time . after first position is filled career open to anyone but has to have 6+ outgoing points

science: spot opens after first alien abduction and after first three , is open to anyone , spot opens after/if a sim dies of sickness, and spot opens after the first sim gets struck by lightning , both need max logic skill. open to anyone with a degree

show business: [needs diploma] spot opens when sim reaches top of slacker career and entertainment career . need 7+ outgoing points . open to any sim with 8+ outgoing points and max charisma

slacker: spot opens when any social venue is placed and opened completely when downtown is unlocked . need to have 4 or less lazy points

pet careers :

show biz: only open to pets who have learned 5+ tricks

service: opened when any of the service options are unlocked

security: open to any pet whose owner(s) works in law enforcement and open completely when five people join law enforcement

business districts :

­- earned every five *rank five or more* sim owned businesses and top of business career sim

- 5 cas sims earned each time business district is unlocked

- unlocks chance to build military base

downtown :

- earned when population reaches 5,000 and there’s a sim at top level of the politics career

- unlocks 20 cas sims and 5 community lots

- costs 150,000 *just for the land

university :

­- three ways to unlock :

- reach 50,000 population

- take sim donations til 1mil reached

- one single sim can donate 1mil

- costs 8,000 per sim to attend , scholarships earned before can go to this but will be deducted from their funds when they reach uni

- if going to uni for military sim goes free, will be billed 15k upon dropout. 

- children of sims in the military go for free

- if your sim drops out they will be billed 2,000

- dropouts go home to family with no money (and a dropout bill if they have 0 funds while in school) or to an empty lot with only any scholarship money/ money earned at college and their bill deductible

military :

- military base needs to be built in business district , unlocks military career completely

- comes with two community lots, plus a uniform + grocery store, and training grounds

- for base to be built at least three sims need to have been abducted by aliens OR a law enforcement worker gets abducted

- sims in military career must live on base

- sims on base can only travel to lots outside of the base on the weekends

- barracks set up for rank 5 five or below, unless married then they stay in an apartment

- married sims live in private housing and/or apartments

- no civilians on base other than sims spouse and children

- rank 6 and 7 stay in apartments , rank 8, 9, and 10 live in completely private housing

- 5 rank 5 rank or below spots open (unless sim is married then there is no limit)

- 2 rank 6 and 7 spots open, only one spot for ranks 8, 9, and 10

- sims that go to uni for military goes for free and their kids go for free

- if you go to college for military and drop out you owe $15,000

vacations :

- phones, computers, and cars need to be unlocked for planes to be unlocked

- 100,000 for unlocking planes , 250,000 per vacation hood

how to unlock specific community lots :

- unlock a sports lot when two sims have sports as their OTH and max body skill or they have max enthusiasm in sports

- unlock the museum lot when two inventions have been made or when the city founder passes away, needs to be built on the largest lot

- unlock the graveyard lot when theres a sim whose tombstone has nowhere to go, should also be built on largest lot

- unlock the city hall when a sim becomes the mayor

- unlock a library lot when a sim is the top of the education career and five different bestselling novels have been made . doesn’t matter who wrote any of the novels

- unlock an orphanage when a sim is taken by a social worker . can use an already placed sim or unlock a cas sim to run the orphanage

- unlock the hospital when a sim first enters the medical career

- unlock the schoolhouse when a sim first enters the education career

* lots still need to be funded by the community :)

omg okay there's all of it!! i'm doing a (kinda lol) decades style BaCC which is why a lot of items are locked at the start!! it's pretty detailed but it's really really fun that way!!

[creadigol]

Request to continue Teacher Hero?

Only if you want to!

Please and thank you! 💖

Honestly, this has been one that has wracked my brain for a while! Due to that, I think I may have made this a bit long…but I hope you like it! 💕 Thanks for the request!

This is a continuation of my Hero Teacher prompt here

“You know…you really need to stop doing this.”

“If you let it leak, the water bill will be horrendous. Trust me, I know.”

The mechanic's dolly Villain laid on, made a sharp creek as they shifted position and grabbed some kind of adjustable wrench (one that Hero had never seen before…then again they were shit at home repairs) from the tool box. Villain’s head and shoulders were not visible from Hero’s vantage point, so they inclined themselves to speak with Villain's black jean covered legs instead.

Their favorite pair to wear while working the plumbing system, as Hero had come to learn these last few weeks.

Hero tapped their finger on the kitchen counter, “I’m not talking about the sink.”

“Well, I’m working on the sink,” came Villain’s easy and muffled reply.

“Yes, I can see that.”

“Then, as this is the current activity I am doing and you are actively watching me do it, one would assume that the plausible topic of conversation, when begun under such prerequisites, would be about said activity..ie the sink.”

“And I’m not talking about the sink.”

“Then I’m confused.”

Hero huffed in frustration and ran a hand through their hair.

“Stop being obstinate!”

The resulting chuckle from under the caverns of the counter just served to irritate Hero more.

“Obstinate! That’s a big word. Does your class know the meaning of it yet or are you breaking out the SAT words now that you have a chance to talk to an actual adult?”

“For someone whose crotch is sitting dangerously close to my stomping foot, I'm hearing a lot of sass.”

“Fine, fine, point taken. What ARE you talking about then?”

Hero had to think. Honestly. What were they talking about? The home and classroom repairs? The strange new repertoire between the two of them? The fact that Villain had found out their secret identity in the first place?!

“All of it.” They finally conceded.

The torquing of the wrench stopped.

“All of what?” Asked Villain in a falsely innocent voice.

“All of THIS!” Hero gestured around their own kitchen, knowing Villain would pick up on the fact even if they couldn’t see from under the sink.

“Wha…” Hero didn’t let Villain finish.

“THIS! The home repairs, the classroom windows, little Stacy’s bike, Mrs. Santori’s 1998 Avalon…”

“Didn’t realize you knew about that one…”

“Of course I knew! Teachers of the same grade tend to go to the same meetings, dumbass. What else am I to make of her muffler and AC suddenly working again?”

The scraping of the wrench started again.

“Her mechanic is a con artist…Worked with him a few times actually…was going to charge an arm and a leg…”

“That’s not what I’m asking!”

“Then what are you asking?”

Hero had enough.

Leaning over the sink they stomped their socked foot down on the mechanic's dolly right between Villlain’s legs. Using the leverage, Hero viciously rolled Villain out, leaning over so their eyes met while Hero’s hands rested on either side of the sink and their entire stature loomed over them.

It would have been an intimidating pose, had Hero not been in a loose t-shirt, sweatpants and have their hair falling all over their face. Villain had shone up right as Hero had put on some comfortable clothes to cook in.

Villain, for their part, looked shocked for only a moment before replacing the expression with a more condescending and vexing one.

“I’m asking,” Hero said slowly, letting the intimidating tone they only used while hero-ing seep into their voice, “why?”

“Why.” Villain repeated.

“Why.” Hero confirmed.

They stayed that way in silence for a moment. Neither one attempting to break eye contact.

In a sudden movement, Villain brought the wrench they were still holding up to Hero’s face, stopping just short of their nose. Hero didn’t flinch.

“That,” Villain said easily. They moved the wrench the last inch, gently booping Hero’s nose. “Is a story for another time.”

Hero rolled their eyes, straightened and reached their hand down to help Villain up.

“What I think is more important right now, is not the ‘why’, but the ‘who’.”

Now it was Hero’s turn to try and look innocent.

“I don’t know what you mean…”

Villain threw the wrench back into the toolbox with a loud clang.

“Of course you know what I mean!”

“That’s not…I mean…It’s not relevant,” Hero stammered.

“Oh!” Villain walked closer to Hero, effectively backing them into the kitchen island. “It’s not relevant that one of the very precious students you dedicate so much of your life to..is Supervillain’s daughter.”

TBC if requested!

[transparentkinks]

You're really pre-war?

Part one of a series i'm working on. I'm planning on doing one for each companion because I feel like the game brushes over that realization way too fast. We see people copying or preserving pre-war aesthetics to signal affluence, I feel like Nora being like, fresh-out-the-box pre-war should be a bigger deal to both Nora and the people around her.

Preston:

He didn’t entirely believe her when she said she was frozen in a vault from before the war. I mean, some pre-war lady storming through waves of raiders to get them out of their last desperate hold up? Bringing down a deathclaw and escorting them to her old neighborhood? He was nearly certain that she was pulling his leg, or some kind soul driven mad by the wastes, lost in some delusion to be anywhere but here. 

But her eyes were clear when she looked at him, and she spoke with an intelligence he had yet to encounter. People who knew science meds or tech, they flaunted that, they were a means to buy survival. Nora, she just talked with a casual, humble confidence in her knowledge. She was enthusiastic to teach. Never mind what she was building in sanctuary hills. He was used to securing and boarding up old ruins, and there were certainly plenty for him and Sturges to sink their teeth into, but it looks like Nora had built herself a house before she took off and brought them back with her. 

It looked to be made nearly entirely from mud and clay, but when he put his hands on it it felt solid as concrete. The roof was made of tight-packed dried grass and other vegetation, but it didn’t leak. Light filtered into the different rooms through glass bottles of different colors, broken to pieces and placed in the walls. Inside he could not feel even the lightest draft. The floors were built high, the entryway sunken in. She had a stove that looked like it was built into the floors and walls, made of the same stuff, and when she lit a fire in it she said it “warmed the house through the floors” however that worked. 

He knew how to build a shelter, but everything she was doing went over his head. Sturges kept extensive notes, kept asking her questions. He could see the confusion on his face when she tried to explain some things, and he saw her patiently explain whatever it is several times until Sturges nodded along in understanding. He asked Sturges what he thought of Nora and her constructions once, and Sturges went into a tangent about what he had learned from her, kept calling her a genius. To hear him speak of it, him and Nora had plans to tear down each old house one by one and build a house like hers for each of them and any new potential residents. 

Something he was pretty excited for actually, because while she was, as Nora called it, “hosting” them he’d become well acquainted with the luxuries of her house. She actually apologized to them, for putting Marcy and her husband in “the guest room” and putting him and Sturges on her couches. Even though she gave Mama Murphy her bed and slept in a cot without complaint. Said she didn’t anticipate having so many people stay over, like she couldn’t have just kicked them into the ruins outside instead of letting them cram into her warm, sound house. 

Plus it smelled incredible. Nora’s cooking was somehow better than anything he’d had in his life and always quickly filled the house with delicious aromas. She had built a bathroom like in those old-world buildings but it actually works, hooked up some sort of plumbing system to draw and filter water from the river, hooked up a purifier so the water from the taps were clean. She explained it to them, while pointing out the disturbed earth between her house and the river. Latrines paled in comparison to her setup. Pull a cord or a drain and all the dirty water just flowed away. She showed them how to light a fire to heat up a tank of water and told them how long to wait before they could pull a special tap in the bathroom to control how much of the hot water mixed with the normal, chilled water. They all got to try a warm shower and bath, and she apologized again for only having old world soap before showing them her current soap curing above her kitchen cabinets. He had never felt so clean in his life, and his skin had never felt so soft ever since she gave them each little tubs of pure white tallow that smelled like hubflowers. She even helped them wash their clothes. 

And they had electricity. Nora said the first thing she did when she unfroze was check out some of the military bases from before the war. She talked with no fear while recounting her encounters with old-world tech and weapons, like she just forgot them there and happened upon a happy surprise, not the tone he’d expect from encountering a great war sentry bot. The fusion cores she found there were enough to power a whole city. With her robot running things and tending her garden when she ran out to explore the wasteland and the heavy laser turrets she installed all over the place, the house was pretty much self-sufficient. This was living like no one in the wasteland had ever seen. Even someone as brilliant as Sturges couldn’t come up with constructions as clever as hers. Nora wasn’t bluffing, she really got frozen while the bombs dropped and woke up a few months ago to the apocalypse. 

“So you’re-” He felt awkward broaching the subject with her. They and several of the new settlers Nora was helping were covered up to their elbows and knees in mud, clay, and straw. It was pretty windy out, but the bright sun and fire lit in the center of what would soon be the sixth new construction house Nora had helped people build, and it worked to keep off the chill in the face of Boston’s freezing winds. It was hard to believe, he had his own house now, everyone that came to Sanctuary would so long as they didn’t mind getting in the mud to help them build. It wasn’t like they were gonna run out of dirt, dead plants, wood, broken glass or old tires anytime soon. “You’re really, no joke, pre-war?” 

“Yep!” Nora chirped out, working the clods of muddy straw into the next layer of the wall along the wattle frame. 

“What was it like?” He questioned, working the earth into the wall the way Nora had shown them. 

“Everyone asks that” She chuckled to herself. “I’m not always sure what people mean by it. People haven't really changed, the difference-” She seemed to be looking somewhere off in the distance wistfully. “It’s mostly cultural I guess. You can tell people grow up scared and malnourished. You guys just don’t all have access to the same resources and opportunities.” 

“But what was it like living there? I heard there were thousands of people here.” He pressed. He could never get over it, growing up looking at those old-world ruins, imagining what people did there, what it looked like new, when things worked, before the bombs. 

“There were hundreds of thousands.” She clarified, and damn, wasn’t that a thought. How do so many people fit in a city? He found it hard to imagine even a couple hundred people, never mind thousands. He still remembered the awe he felt when he first joined the minutemen, when he was living up in Concord. Maybe two hundred people lived there, if that, and still looking and realizing he stood amongst at least fifty other soldiers, training together to work to keep the commonwealth safe was an experience he’ll never forget. “I guess the scale of people is pretty drastically different. My neighborhood of sanctuary was small, but there were apartment buildings downtown with hundreds of housing units, each of them enough for at least a small family.”

“I can’t even picture that” He responded. “Living around that many people.”

“Learning to navigate large crowds was something of a skill.” She responded, slightly lost in thought. “You would need to plan trips depending on how big crowds would be. Someone around you at all times was working nearly wherever you went, you could go to a diner, -those little booths you find with the tables and counters, you’ve seen them- in the middle of the night and there would be someone there to cook you a meal. Hospitals were packed full of nurses and doctors, and you could get advanced medical attention no matter what time of day. People weren't dependent on knowing how to survive like people are now, you could dedicate your life to becoming a master at one thing, and with ready access to education we were seeing people become better and better at different trades faster and faster with each generation.” She looked like she was enjoying recounting old-world life. “And you could travel really far really fast. I had a car, it could get me miles away in a few minutes.” 

“Is that what you specialized in, home building?” He questioned and got a full laugh from Nora. 

“No-” She sighed out mirthfully. “I was a doctor, a surgeon specifically, but I served in the war-” She paused and he could practically feel her mood drop. “I guess the war before the war, um-” She seemed a bit befuddled at how to put it. 

“In the conflict that led up to the situation that caused the bombs. It was how I met my husband actually, the government, specifically the military, had paid to put me through advanced schooling, and in exchange I served as a field medic. Nate was a marine, the first time I met him I was in my medic power armor. He had been so full of shrapnel I wasn’t sure he would make it. A few weeks later he hunted me down to thank me in person for pulling him out of there, and well-” She trailed off. “Things went well, we took leave to get married, then I got pregnant and we took more leave, and I’ve always loved learning. I always had a habit for learning anything I could. I got really into DIY and home improvement, I guess you’d call it construction, when I was pregnant. Nate was a big survivalist, and loved teaching me tricks he learned. It was-” She paused in her work. “It was really, nice.” 

“I’m sorry, I-” He felt guilty for bringing it up. She had mentioned she lost her son, of course she had to get a kid somehow. For a moment he didn’t understand how she was standing there, building another mud house with a bunch of strangers to her, two hundred years in the future still determined to find her son and build some sort of community. 

“It’s okay-” She replied, eyes back down on her work. “It’s actually kinda nice, having someone to talk to about it. I know it’s an,-” She huffed to herself in humor, a small smile back on her face. “Unusual situation.” She ended. “Probably sounds like an alien world, I know this world feels like that to me sometimes.” 

“I didn’t really think about what you’ve lost. You’re really strong, to go through that and keep doing what you do.” He wanted to cheer her up. He’s seen a lot of grief in his time. She had been so kind to him and everyone she’s met so long as they didn’t introduce themselves by opening fire. He’d seen her comforting Jun and Marcy, the least he could do was be a kind ear. 

“Thanks for saying that.” She was grinning just a little now, more wistful than sad. 

“It’s just the truth.” He replied, and it was. He knew what it took for him to keep going, what it took for Marcy and Jun. “If you ever wanna talk about it, good or bad, I'm here. I know it's a crazy world out here, but you’re not alone.”

She glanced up at him, met his eyes. “I’m thankful there are still good people like you around, the bombs couldn’t kill that. I appreciate that you’re willing to listen.” 

“It’s uh-” suddenly meeting her eyes caused a strange feeling in his chest, like someone trapped some angry bloodbugs inside his ribs. “It’s nothing. We gotta be there for each other, the decent people in the commonwealth. Being from the past doesn't change that. You’ve been a huge help for people, helping me reach out to help other settlements and sharing what you know, helping us recover what’s left of the minutemen. The least we can do is lend an ear.” She chuckled at that and it made the bloodbugs around his heart take off in a flurry of wings that made his blood race. 

“I’m glad common decency and respect didn’t die with the bombs.” He could practically feel her mood lifting. 

“Speaking of decency, I’ve been meaning to ask you something-” He’s been anxious to ask her to officially join. He knew she could actually rebuild the minutemen if she put her mind to it, she was practically a miracle, stumbling out of her vault to find her way to help them out of a hopeless situation. Every time someone probed her for knowledge she gave it freely, Sturges had a hard time not pestering her every second for a lesson on old-world technology. 

“What is it?” She had finished smoothing her clod of muddy straw atop the wall and picked up another one to work with. 

“Well, we already told you about Concord-” She hummed in acknowledgement as she worked. “You know I'm the last minuteman.” She nodded, turning her eyes back to the wall they were working on. “And you’ve already helped me reach out to Abernathy farm and tenpines bluff. I know you’re looking for your son, but I think you could get more resources, more eyes out for him, if you joined and helped the minuitmen rebuild.” He hoped she didn’t get pissed, it was a huge ask, he just hoped she could actually get something out of it. Maybe it would help to have a pair of eyes at every settlement they help looking for her kid. 

“I’m not already a minuteman?” She asked, confused. 

“Well, uh-” He wasn’t quite sure how to respond. “I guess you are already, actually, you just have to agree to the title, and well-” He cleared his throat, a little nervous. “Part of how the minutemen fell apart, was over people disagreeing about who would be the next general. The general has always been the leader of the minutemen. I may have been the last one, but I can’t be the general. I can lead in a fight, but you’re actually pretty good at dealing with people.” 

“So-” She seemed a little amused. “You don’t want to be General?” 

“I was hoping you’d agree to be General. I'm in charge of guarding Sanctuary, but I’ve seen you fight and you’ve gotten two settlements to join up so far. I'm not the only minuteman left anymore thanks to you. If you’re willing to join, I want you to be the general. It's kind of an empty title right now, but we can build it back up to mean something. With it so small right now, there’s no one to argue with me about making you General.” He jested, but it didn’t ring lighthearted to him. Not having to fight with someone about power structures would be reliving. 

“Okay,” She replied. “I can be General, it's like not even a ten person army right now, I can lead the charge helping people.” He immediately felt so relieved. Something in him just knew she could make this old organization something new, even if she was from hundreds of years in the past. “I don’t know how i’ll feel if it ever becomes something substantial, but it sounds like a good excuse to explore the commonwealth and help people out. Sturges is gonna have to learn to teach people how to build though while I'm off contacting people. I don’t want people living in ruins for weeks waiting for me.” He couldn't hold back a laugh at that. 

“You know by plenty of people’s standards these ‘ruins’ are actually pretty nice.” He teased. Not like he would go back to thinking the old sanctuary houses were nice compared to the houses Nora was building for people. 

“God, don’t remind me.” She huffed. “I saw the setups at the settlements you sent me to. If I can, I'd like to try and build them some actual infrastructure and shelter once we got enough people to head over and pitch in. Codsworth and I spent weeks digging for that plumbing setup I got us all hooking up to, and without access to running water sources we’d have to pump a well and build a sewer-” She started talking more about her plans to make these places actual towns, brushing through details that went over his head. She was right, some people would have to actually understand the way this stuff was built rather than listen to her when she points. Sturges seemed keen to learn, as well as a few of the settlers that have been rolling in. Man, the minutemen really got lucky running across Nora.

[vxxxb]

Not A Cook - [Miguel O'Hara]

More fluff! Takes place before he becomes Spider-Man -- You can't cook and Miguel decides to help Tags: Roommates, colleagues, fluff, lighthearted story, implied they work at Alchemax

“You never learned to cook?”

Miguel's judgy tone speaks from behind you as he reaches for his mug.

His condescending tone makes you bristle, your body instinctively moving slightly to the side to not bump into him as you huff quietly.

You keep your grip on the pan's handle as you attempt to flip over the set of empanadas you had made for yourself. It was supposed to be something easy, especially with the long tongs you bought. But as you try to flip them without burning yourself, tiny bits of oil start to splash, causing you to swiftly lower the flame and step back from the stove.

You narrow your eyes at the pan, crossing your arms with tongs still in hand.

Alright, so cooking wasn’t your strong suit, especially when it came to frying. You got stuck on the fear of potentially getting burned, rather than simply focusing on making the damn food.

It was all too frustrating.

Miguel’s comment certainly didn’t help, and his standing by the table counter only a few feet away, casually sipping his coffee with a smug smirk, only irritated you more.

You knew staying with him was a bad idea. But when word got out that you were initially planning to stay over at a 'friend' as your apartment got fixed, he had personally extended an invitation to his living arrangements.

And now, a month and a half has passed, and your apartment is still far from ready. What started as a simple plumbing issue soon turned into an expired gas meter, faulty wiring, and eventually an upright renovation process.

You found the new arising problems for your apartment strange, but you brushed them off. After all, it was Nueva York, and a standard living space was bound to have its fair share of issues.

Swallowing your pride, you glance at Miguel, meeting his amused gaze.

“If you’re not going to help, I don’t want to hear it,” you roll your eyes, frowning as you stare at the empanadas simmering in oil.

You take a deep breath as you approach the stove again, adjusting the flame and carefully sliding the tongs beneath a crispy empanada, successfully flipping it over without oil splattering this time.

You smile proudly, turning up the stove again before yelping once the oil splatters again.

At this, Miguel erupts in laughter, his hand clutching his stomach as he tries to avoid your prominent glare.

You grit your teeth, throwing your hands up in annoyance before sliding the tongs over to him. "I give up, you do it," you grumble, beginning to head out of the kitchen only to be pulled back abruptly.

"Hey-!"

Miguel raises an eyebrow, wearing that same infuriating smirk once more. "Cooking's all about practice," he quips, dragging you back to the stove. "You just need a few pointers."

"What I need is to avoid it all together."

He rolls his eyes, grabbing the tongs from the counter and handing them to you. He then leans against the counter, arms folding across his chest. "First things first, control the heat," he advises, pointing at the stove. "Medium-low is usually a safe bet for frying. And don't overcrowd the pan; you want each empanada to have space."

You huff quietly, shooting him a side look. Miguel only gives you a deadpan stare, directing his gaze to the pan.

"Fine," you concede, rolling your eyes.

Begrudgingly, you follow his advice, adjusting the heat as he suggested and carefully spacing the empanadas in the pan. They start sizzling gently without any oil splatters.

Miguel nods approvingly. "See? Now keep an eye on them, flip them when they're ready, and you'll be fine." He hums, turning to leave.

You glance at him, surprised by how quickly you stop him. "Wait!"

He raises an eyebrow, clearly amused by your sudden change of tone. "Yes?"

You hesitate for a moment. "Would you… care to join me for breakfast?" You gesture to the pan.

Miguel chuckles softly, shoulders shrugging. "Why not," He pulls out another cup and two plates, placing them on the counter for the two of you.

You find yourself smiling, turning the remaining food over before, finally, turning off the stove. Bringing the pan over, you carefully slide three empanadas onto each plate.

You take a seat, taking a sip from your mug and sighing content when you realize it was hot chocolate and not coffee he had served you.

Setting your cup down, you look at him expectantly. "Well?" You nod your head to the empanadas.

He rolls his eyes, picking up one of the empanadas and taking a careful bite. His expression changes from one of amusement to genuine surprise as he chews.

"You didn't manage to burn them or drown them in oil after all," he chuckles as you also try one.

You grin happily once you see he's telling the truth; They do taste good.

"Just so you know, I'm not doing this again," you shake your head as you chew hungrily. "Not unless there's a kitchen appliance."

"I think you'll change your mind once you get the hang of it," Miguel teases, taking another bite. "Cooking can be quite satisfying, you know."

You roll your eyes playfully. "We'll see about that."

You then look at the clock, gasping and rushing to your room. "I'm running late! I'll see you at the lab!"

With you out of sight, Miguel smiles, a warmth in his eyes that he never allowed you to see.

The next morning, when you wake up to prepare yourself something, you see a light blue appliance on the counter with a note on it.

Here's an air fryer. Can't screw this up. -- Miguel.

You can't help the laugh you let out as you read Miguel's note. You can't help but feel that staying at Miguel's place might not have been such a bad idea after all.