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tu-mint · 4 years ago

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‼️⚠️NEW OC⚠️‼️Introducing...Jade Lofota/Dome‼️🥳

‼️‼️Hey guys! Hope all has been well with you since quarantine! Speaking of which, Tiktok has officially dragged me back into “bingewatch anime and mess up your sleep schedule” mode and ofc I listened. So I just recently got back into My Hero Academia specifically (I started it when it first came out then lost track 😅) bc I’ve been seeing this trend with MHA based OCs and it’s so cool! My personal favorite is Artiste aka Hina Tsukuru which y’all can check out on Tiktok @/mailleur_maker btw! Anywho, I figured why not go on and make one too?? These are pretty much the basic layouts to my character (I used a website to create my character’s look bc I can’t draw for 💩 so I apologize if they aren’t the best quality!) Let me know what you think!‼️‼️

Name: Jade Lofota (Hero Name: Dome)

Age: 18 (DOB: 02/20)

Height: 5’8” 1/2

Species: Human

Ethnicity: Samoan

Hair Color/Type: Brown w/ Natural Highlights; 2C-Type

Eye Color: Indigo, Mint Green (when using quirk)

Physical Description:

Jade has a muscular physique with noticeable curves around her mid section. Her skin is a caramel tone with a diamond shape face. She has thick curved eyebrows that arch slightly upward giving her a natural weighty expression. Her lips are turned downwards and two toned, her upper lip a slightly darker shade. Her nose and ears are wide set, but her ears are slightly pushed back. Jade's hair is a 2C curl texture, but she keeps it in a braid that reaches right above her hips with shorter locks slipping out on the side.

During school hours, Jade wears the UALA version of the UA uniform, which is initially the same without the stripes on the collar or cuffs. Jade also wears black leggings and gloves, along with a pair of boots that stop above the knee. With the hero attire, Jade wears a long mustard top that reaches the top of her thighs with loose sleeves that end at her elbows, along with a hood. Attached to the tip of her hood is an inverted triangle shaped device. The top is slightly opened down to the navel, and the hem has high slits on either side. Under the top, she wears high waisted shorts that are the same color of the hood and the sleeve outlines. At her waistline is a utility belt full of medical supplies held up by a strap that goes across her body. Jade wears tech infused gloves and boots that are a metallic grey color and reach below the knee. On her left thigh is a blunt held up by a black strap with yellow buckles; the blunt can stretch to full length when used.

Family:

Manu Lofota [father; retired pro hero]

Lina Lofota [mother]

Manu Jr. Lofota [oldest brother; deceased]

Tony Lofota [younger brother]

Joseph Lofota [younger brother]

Matthew Lofota [younger brother]

Mikey Lofota [youngest brother]

Carolei Lofota [sister]

Backstory:

Jade is a second-year student in class 2-A at UALA apart of the special program they'd developed. (⚠️In this AU, due to its rising global popularity, UA High has now evolved into an international school program to assist upcoming heroes around the world, so there are other UA institutions in select locations (but the original UA in Japan is pretty much the Harvard to all Ivy Leagues). Every year, one student per location is handpicked to spend 3-5 months at the original UA and understand the history behind heroes while getting to personally train and meet with pro-heroes. A special structure created for this purpose is directly across the UA building.⚠️) She comes from a middle class family and was able to get into UALA (UA Los Angeles) school after being scouted by a staff member who she saved from danger. When she was younger, Jade had witnessed her oldest brother, Manu, get shot and killed by gang members he was associated with, thus making the ultimate decision to become a hero. The memory constantly torments her as she believes it to be her fault for not acting quickly enough to defend him, though her parents often try to assure her that it isn't. Being where she’s from, Jade takes a crucial amount of time learning to master her quirk and combat skills as a means of survival. She dedicates her life to protecting her family at all costs, even if it means sometimes committing wrongdoings.

Persona:

Jade is a cordial person and enjoys any opportunity to meet new people; many often take a quick liking to her because of the comfortable aura she gives. Along with meeting new faces, Jade is observant of those she interacts with and can remember distinct aspects very well, such as body language, habits, facial expressions, and speech patterns. While her observance is meant as a defense mechanism, she sometimes uses it to her advantage. Persuasion is one of Jade's strong suits and often she will use it to get herself or others out of trouble. On the field, Jade is a formidable and aggressive combatant, but impulsiveness is often a struggle she deals with. Sudden flashbacks of her brother's death trigger Jade to act without thinking which in turn ends up hurting herself or others. The passing of her brother also overcame Jade with guilt and made her develop a pessimistic view on life and society. These cynical beliefs drove her to swear complete protection over her family from the world's evil, especially her siblings.

Abilities:

- Quirk: Animal Control: Similar to Shinso, Jade has a quirk allows her to use mind manipulation over any animal classified organism, but the only way it can be activated is if she makes physical contact using the head, legs, hands or feet. She can manage multiple minds at once but must be careful to the extent at which she does because she can put herself into sensory overload. The quirk can be deactivated two ways: Jade verbally declares the opponent free of her command, or sensory overload will forcibly shut down her control (if multiple minds are being controlled, she can pick and choose who is released; if there's no specification, the quirk will deactivate control over all minds). Jade can command her opponent telepathically or verbally, but the deactivation can only be done verbally. Her quirk can involuntarily be triggered by the smallest touch, so Jade must be cautious with her interactions as to not set it off (ex: giving hugs).

- Telepathy: When in close range, Jade has the ability to temporarily share her telepathic powers with someone in order to communicate with them. Using telepathy for too long can leave her lightheaded and susceptible to fainting as it requires a lot of mental strength. This also applies to when her quirk is in use with the exception of range. Since most are unaware of this ability, Jade will use it to temporarily distract an opponent when in combat.

- Enhanced Strength: Jade is physically robust and can endure high levels of pain while fighting. Jade can also handle severe injuries while engaging in combat or using her quirk, which easily makes her an intimidating opponent. At the same time, she has the ability to deliver lethal punches and kicks that are deadly to an opponent if powerful enough and has proved this her first year of the final exams in UALA.

- Enhanced Agility: Given that her quirk requires physical contact, Jade can move at an impressively quick rate despite her stature. She is able to maintain incredible balance between her speed and strength at close and mid range and will occasionally use gymnastic maneuvers to take down her opponent or latch herself onto them. Jade's rapid observations on her opponent also help her in using their physicality against themselves.

Uncanny Balance: One of Jade’s most notable skills during combat is the constant switching of her body position. Whether in direct combat or moving away from it, Jade can quickly shift whatever stance she’s in and hold it for long periods at a time despite its complexity, showing her flexibility, durability and balance. An example of this would be fighting in a hand stand depending solely on the legs and feet for combat. (This is connected to Enhanced Agility.)

- Special Moves:

Footlose: Jade back flips into a hand stand position before the opponent and swings a brutal kick between their legs or to the groin then delivers another blow to the side of the face with her other foot, activating her quirk. She brings both her legs to her chest to deliver one final kick to the opponent's face.

Tama’s Blow: At long distance, Jade sprints to her opponent then leaps and spirals while coming down, allowing momentum to build into her left arm. Her fist connects with the opponent’s jaw before her feet reach the ground, twisting the neck far back and killing or severely injuring the opponent. When this move is performed, parts of Jade’s tattoo will glow.

Quote(s):

"Look kid, I’m not here to be the world’s hero—this is for my family."

Trivia:

- Played softball for 3 years but quit before high school

- Jade owns two electric guitars -- one in her dorm and one at her house -- and plays them to relieve stress, worry, anxiety or sadness

- Tama’s Blow was named in honor of Jade’s father as it was one of his finishing moves as a Pro Hero

PLEASE DON’T STEAL OR POST MY WORKS WITHOUT ASKING

#my hero academia #mha oc #mha dome #bnha oc #my hero academia oc #this was actually so much fun #the only thing keeping me from sleeping all day #anime oc #anime #quaratine tings #i need to sleep #mha au

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mogood · 3 years ago

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Introduce the specific classification of metal domes

The touch switch is a button with a high frequency of use, which appears in almost every occasion in our lives. People often press and use touch switches. Therefore, the metal dome responsible for feedback and rebound in the tact switch is particularly important.

There are many types of metal domes. According to different shapes, it can be divided into many different types of metal domes. This article will introduce you to the relevant content.

The standard dome switches on the market are mainly round, cross, triangle and oval. Different shapes of dome switches have different characteristics. The circular snap dome is the smallest metal dome. It is widely used in various occasions, and there are round shrapnel on almost every TV remote control and air conditioner remote control. Due to the high frequency of use of these keys, high-quality round shrapnel is required as a support to ensure the long life of the keys. But the metal dome is still the component with the highest damage rate. This is because long-term high-frequency pressing will reduce the service life of the metal dome.

It is very important to choose a high-quality metal dome for your product. It can prolong the service life of the product and reduce the defect rate of the product.

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severalbakuras · 6 years ago

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we’re heeeeere!

s2e19 and 20!!!

weirdmageddon 2:

oh hey cartoon cthullu’s there! my soft bloodborne au has a fraction of a fraction of a canon basis to it nice.

triangle cult!

holy shit

HAHAHA

ooooh a dome didn’t see that coming huh bill.

rainbows?

oh soos ;A; HE WOULD DIE FOR THEM

HEY THAT GUY

AND THOSE GUYS

chaos realm?

good point dipper.

GO SOOS

GO WENDY

WOAH MABEL

oooooh no mabel. that’s horrible.

shut up dippiefresh.

ohhh this is even worse she thinks they’re free…

FUCK OFF NOT-SOOS DAD

at least he’s more aware of it than wendy…

sure it’s great for everyone. everyone who’s not fucking STONE or the rest of the WORLD.

bill i’m reporting you to HR.

no dipper don’t fall for it.

DON’T FALL FOR IT DIPPER IT’S NOT WENDY

YES

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

SEE HOW BAD IT IS MABEL?

she’s got to be hypnotised she’s never been like this to THIS degree.

same dipper.

OH NO FLASHBACKS

AHHH BABIES

aww mabel…

aww dipper…

TELL HER DIPPER

awwww

oh my goodness dipper ;A;

mabel ;A;

EXCELLENT SPEECH DIPPER

CALLING IT SUBTLE HYPNOSIS WAS INFLUENCING HER

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

waddles is still loyal!!

oooo

ARMED AND DANGEROUS

HEEEEEY THERE’S THE REST OF THE CREW

BEAR GNOMES MANATAURS!!!

oh no these poor new real dudes…

righteous.

weirdmageddon 3:

WOAH THIS EPISODE’S A LONG ONE

ugh the unicorn’s there.

oooh they melded the openings together, neat.

hey the band’s okay!! i wonder if the dipper clones are okay too… although they aren’t here…

so that’s unicorns and metal (why am i thinking steel?) that can stop bill in his tracks... https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QRhyXB2IGF4

wow that news team’s dedicated.

are you sure about that pacifica?

GO BODACIOUS T

i hope ford and mcgucket get to meet face to face again.

stan no.

bill can sing~

bill backstory!!!

slight bill backstory. mostly death. that he caused.

wait so how’d he get into blendin’s mind???

i second the gunswords, also educating mcgucket on anime.

oh woah.

are they building what i think they’re building.

I THINK THEY ARE

dinosaur?

ANIME

THE FUCK PACIFICA’S THE LLAMA??? i’m so confused.

i mean that’s a fair point stan but that’s also a fair point dipper and more importantly the APOCALYPSE IS RIGHT THERE, PRIORITIES WHAT DO YOU HAVE TO LOSE

clever girl

fascinating.

CANDY AND GRENDA ARE DRIFTING

THAT OPENING THEME KICKING IN, IT’S SO ANIME

GODDAMN WENDY

holy fuck those backgrounds.

oooh he’s figured it out.

pyramid bill is such a downgrade from flat 2d bill. honestly getting a physical form wasn’t worth it my dude.

AAAAA HIS EYE HAD A NERVE EVEN IF IT WAS NEON BLUE

hey gideon.

that’s just bad craftsmanship bill.

poor tad strange…

GET MARRIED

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

aww i hope they stay friends.

ROBBIE SAVES THE DAY somehow.

grenda and candy real mvps.

given the episode time… this isn’t going to turn out well…

don’t gideon this gideon you’re just barely scraping the line of likeable here.

no explanation for the llama

STAN GET IN THERE

WOAH THAT’S A COOL BATTLE MOVE

CAN’T BELIEVE I’M AGREEING WITH GIDEON HERE

OH MY GOD STAN.

OH MY GOD FORD.

OH MY GODDDDDDDDDDDDDD WHAT HAVE I BEEN SAYING ALL SEASON.

PUT SOOS DOWN RIGHT NOW

AHAHAHAHAHAH EVERY SINGLE DAMN TIME

it’s all falling down bill

WOAH STRAIGHT TO THE DEATH THREAT BILL

seriously bill the rainbow neon lines highlighting midnight blue look is a vast improvement over the red look.

fucking FINALLY.

… twin switch?

guys. twin switch. he’s too focused on the kids no way he’s noticing what they’re up to.

SADISTIC BILL

he still makes good on his deals.

they totally twin switched.

AHAHAHAHAHHA

oh no.

OH NO STAN ;A;

what’s he saying? i’m gonna have to google that…

NONONONONONONONO

DAMN THAT’S COOL.

aww bye my dudes…

STONE BILL

;;;A;;;

THAT’S NOT FAIR

AAAH THE SHACK ;A;

woah it’s all overgrown in there, time really did get messed around.

soos ;A;

mabel ;A;

WADDLES!!!!

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

this is a HAPPY ;A;

SO THIS IS WHERE THAT POST S6 THING CAME FROM SCRAWLERS

~never mind all that~

that’s a little harsh

GET MARRIED

HAHAHAA NORTHWESTS

congrats mcgucket!!

wait if it’s fully recovered doesn’t that mean bill’s alive somewhere?

YAY THEY’RE 13!!

oh jeez gideon.

great speech dipper.

i wonder if dipper has a new wish.

did that canon cannon have blood on it?

sequel series bait?

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

GIVE IT TO SOOS

!!!!!

SOOOOS ;A;

YES SOOS THAT HAT SUITS YOU

that S is not going to last.

ahh this is sad…

SAME GRENDA

awwww wendy ;A;

WADDLES AAA

BRING HIM

YES STAN

OH SHIT

that driver’s never coming here again.

;A; I KEEP MAKING THAT BUT IT’S ALL I GOT

;;;;;;;;;;;;;A;;;;;;;;;;;;

MELODY!!!

that didn’tt ake long huh.

awwwwwww

NEW MEMORIES OF NEXT SUMMER??

THE DIPPERS!!! THEY LIVED!!!

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA LIVE ACTION BILL

god what a good series. biggest thank you to @scrawlers for getting me into it <3

#gravity falls #sb watches gf

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not-just-any-fangirl · 7 years ago

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Days Of Summer CH 4

A/N; Four weeks running, it’s a new record! Me and @hannah-nobody are super glad all you are enjoying this so much, we too love our awkward and emo Natsu! It’s fun trying to write his complex character, cocky and loud while also doubting of his place with others. Plus, who wasn’t melodramatic in their late teens?

Not to mention we get to explore some really interesting friendships! Lucy and Gajeel anyone?

Here’s the updated playlist!

Summer has arrived, and with it the start of the two month long music camp; Fairy Tail! Full of new songs, friends, and adventures, the campers learn things they never knew about themselves and one another. And just how easy it is to sneak booze and a full sized karaoke machine out into the middle of the woods.

Camp Rock!AU

Pairing: Nalu, Gajevy, Gruvia, others mentioned; Fairy Tail

Words: 6994

Rating: T

Parts: Chapter One, Chapter Two, Chapter Three, Chapter Four, Chapter Five, Chapter Six, Chapter Seven

Chapter Four: Stuck In The Middle

'Cause

Someday things will be perfect

It will be worth it all this time

Stuck in the middle

Natsu let the ice pack fall onto the bed. His cheek still hurt like a bitch, but at least it wasn’t throbbing anymore. Fuck, he had almost forgotten how strong Erza was. Natsu snorted as he thought about how he should have one of those ‘certain number of days since last incident’ posters in their cabin. Actually, it would be a miracle if they even got to day 1 on that thing. Gajeel glared at him, split lip and a light bruise on his cheek showing Erza had punished him as much as she had Natsu.

“Would ya quite makin’ all that fuckin’ noise?”

“I snorted.” Natsu defended sourly.

“And now yer talkin’.” Gajeel snarled back.

“Go fuck yourself Gear Head.” Natsu grumbled, jumping down from his bunk without the help of the ladder. He stood from his slight crouch, whipping a pillow he stole from Gray’s bunk at Gajeel, who in turn batted it away with the back of his hand to where it landed in a cobwebbed corner. What a shame.

“If yer headin’ out try not and stalk Bunny Girl, got it? Me and Lily don't need to hafta keep separating you and Ice Tits. Also don't need to explain to yer old man why you sent a kid to the hospital in yer first week of camp.” Gajeel didn't bother looking at Natsu as he spoke, instead scribbling in his notebook that he liked to hide under his mattress.

“Thinking that hard won't help your headache.” Natsu commented, grinning at the low snarl his cousin gave him and the distracted bird he was flipped. “And you might wanna try that in G minor rather than A major. It'll get that ‘secretly happy’ sound instead of ‘obviously happy’ that you're allergic to.”

Gajeel grunted in response, Natsu rolling his eyes when he heard rushed erasing and rewriting.

“And let me know if you need any help with words that rhyme with shortie.”

“Fuck off Strawberry.”

Natsu ducked out the screen door, snorting at the loud ‘thump’ that signaled that Gajeel had thrown something at his back. And missed.

He fought back a small grin as he slipped in his earphones. He knew for a fact that Gajeel had a pretty deadly aim when he wanted to. As much as he and Gajeel fought, at least he knew his jackass of a cousin would be in his corner. And Happy too for that matter, but Natsu could always rely on his little friend.

Natsu thumbed through his playlists on his old iPod, the silver back scratched to shit and the generation so old it no longer updated. Natsu had gotten this for his eighth birthday, Igneel having saved up for the surprise for months. Natsu settled on the playlist titled ‘Life is Stupid’ humming along as the opening bars of The Anthem by Good Charlotte blasted in his ears.

He walked slowly as he followed the gravel path from the cabin area to the main camp, letting his mind drift off into fantasies of talking to Lucy. He became more depressed as each time it ended in Lucy running away in disgust as she remembered him, not even able to pretend in his own mind that she would want him. Wasn’t that just fucking pathetic.

Natsu groaned and kicked at a stone in front of him, sending it skipping through the grass beside the trail and into a bush. She had called him her friend, though, so that meant she didn’t hate him, right? Or had she just been yelling at Gray? Natsu had to admit, it was stupidly easy to yell at Mr. My Face Begs To Be Punched.

Dragging his hand along his face Natsu clicked the skip button attached to his headphones until heavy drums flooded his brain, overbearing as it drowned out his own thoughts. He absently fixed his dark grey beanie covering his stupid hair. This was fine. Natsu was fine. Lucy didn’t need to know, and if she didn’t know, she couldn’t laugh in his face. Natsu kicked a larger pebble, sending it arcing through the air and rolling along the path a few feet in front of him. Lucy was too sweet to laugh at him, but she could still reject him. A cold pit lodged itself in his gut, similar to the time that he had been cornered by his teacher and forced to read from the stupid playbook in English class.

Natsu still had nightmares.

The song faded out, Natsu barely registering the change as he walked past the climbing wall. While Fairy Tail was a music camp, they did offer some traditional activities for their campers such as lake sports, archery, and the 30-foot tall climbing wall, to name a few. The camp had other activities, but Natsu’s focus drifted as he caught sight of the mess hall. The two-story building was made entirely out of giant wood logs, large glass windows breaking up the light brown colour all around the building. While the roof was domed inside for acoustics, the camp had kept up with the outdoorsy aesthetic and the outside was a mess of sharp angles and triangles for the roof and over each window.

It had been like this for as long as Natsu could remember, and he felt a part of his anxiety wash away at the familiar sight. It was nice to know that some things would never change, Fairy Tail being one of them.

He debated grabbing a cinnamon swirl cookie -a signature of the camp- but chose not to, continuing on his path. Natsu passed groups of kids walking by, laughing and talking and being more social than Natsu felt up to. He kept his chin up, though, confidence leaking into him by being surrounded by the comforting sights and smells. Fairy Tail was basically a second home for him, and he was good at what he did here.

Natsu drummed his fingers along his stomach in time with a guitar riff, hands inside the large center pocket of the hoodie he had thrown on before leaving. He finally passed the second largest building at camp, making his way along the path that led towards the largest one, the open faced stage where they would perform at the end of each week. Natsu closed his eyes as he remembered the feeling of standing on the stage, heart pounding along with the heavy drum beat, fingertips almost numb from the strings on his guitar as he performed. Light flashed in his mind, the roar of the crowd overwhelming and euphoric at the same time.

He was going to sing this year, Natsu decided as he opened his eyes. No more playing guitar in the background. Besides, there was no going back now; Natsu had already checked off the ‘singer’ box alongside ‘guitarist’ when sending his application in the winter.

God, Natsu was going to puke.

His palms became clammy as he thought of standing center stage, a weird mix of nausea and excitement that had Natsu thankful he hadn’t wasted any of his food allowance on that cookie.

Natsu paused as he passed the break in the trees that led to the field in front of the auditorium stage, his feet moving him without permission. Before he knew it he was standing in the open area where everyone had gathered before for the welcoming ceremony, the space far more intimidating and surreal without the masses of campers and staff filling in the wood bench risers.

His iPod switched songs again, Natsu singing along more passionately now that he was alone.

“Condemned to be forever unable,

To give this stupid thing the time that it deserves,

I heard a proud few when the windows were gone,

All singing the same time to separate songs.”

Natsu tilted his head back as he sang at the clear sky, sun warm as it bore down on him. His voice carried through the empty clearing. Natsu got to the skirt of the stage, his voice becoming strained as he hauled himself up with his arms. He rested on his knees, feet hanging off the stage as he looked it over.

Aged but polished metal followed the curving ceiling to the center point 30 feet in the air, braces for the booms mounted against them and wires wrapping through the metal lattices until they reached the bars at every third of the dome. The space between the start of the roof and the stage itself was just tall enough for a person over Gajeel’s height to walk through, greenery of the forest peeking through the mess of metals and wires and sound equipment. Natsu ran a hand over the rough wooden stage floor, taking in the feel of it. How many people had performed here, found their love and passion for music on this stage?

He stood, wandering to the center of 20 by 16 foot platform. He turned in a tight circle, breathing in the fresh air with a deep inhale. Natsu's eyes fell shut as he relived last year’s final performance, the lights and the crowd in his mind shifting to what he imagined performing at a rock concert would be, adrenaline pounding and the music burning in his soul. His hands pantomimed holding Fev, fingers tracing the cords from memory in the air as he played along to the music blasting in his ears.

As the music faded out he raised his hands in the hair, basking in the echo of the applause of his memories. He remembered looking out into the cheering crowd, that feeling of utter elation building and building with the volume of the cheers, and the pride in the faces of Erza and Makarov and Gildarts and… that one empty chair.

Natsu dropped his arms as though his puppet strings had finally been cut loose. Another song began in his ears, but he ripped earbuds out before the words even started. He stared at that spot, row f, seat 14. Empty now and empty then. No matter how much the crowd screamed, how good could he possibly be if his own father couldn’t spare the time to come see him play?

He knew it was stupid. Igneel had been out saving lives, why should he stop to hear a cover of a song he’d already heard a hundred times. His work was much more important, and Natsu understood that. Igneel has promised he would get the day off to come see his performance at the final ceremony this year, so he’d just have to make it so amazing that last years didn’t even bare to think about. Natsu clenched his fist around his iPod. He could do it, he could find the perfect song.

But still, the task was daunting.

Frustrated with his own self doubt, Natsu jammed his headphones back in his ears and flicked through his iPod until he found the perfect motivational song. Something to burn his self doubt into shreds. He debated Work Bitch- but then skipped it for shame of hiding Britney under ‘Unknown Artist’ should someone ever browse his most treasured possession- before eventually settling on a song that was 75% certain to make Gajeel disown him if he ever found out he listening to something so not-death-metal-ish.

He pressed play, turned the volume to its fullest and took as deep breath as the intro kicked in. A thought struck him and he dashed to the side of the stage, desperate to find the necessary props for this once in a lifetime solo performance before the vocals kicked in. He grabbed a mic stand someone had been generous enough to leave an unplugged mic in and rushed back to centre stage. He had a second to compose himself before he took the mic in his right hand and shoved his iPod in his back pocket, leaving his other hand free to perform Dramatic Emotive Gestures.

“I don’t remember the morning I tried to forget,

I lost myself and it’s better not said

Now I’m closer, to, the edge,”

Natsu pointed at that empty fucking chair with all the grace of 2009 Jared Leto he could muster. He imaged the camera right by his face, the lights, the crowd, the band behind him. He gritted his teeth as he sang for full scale emotional intensity.

“It was a thousand to one and a million to two

Time to go down in flames and i'm taking you

Closer. To. The. Edge.”

He fully enunciated every word as though he’d never once stuttered speaking to a stranger or a pretty blonde girl. As though this was his stage and his song and he fucking owned this.

“No I’m not saaaaaaaaying, I’m soooooooorry,

One day, maybe we’ll meet again.”

He screamed the words into the mic because they did they did meet again and he wasn’t sorry for that not one bit and by God he wasn’t going to mess it up this time. He ripped the mic from the stand as he finished the chorus, kicking the stand away in the process so he was unhindered as the next verse began and he stepped forward calmly to sing about dreams and music and falling and getting back up and fuck he loved this song Gajeel be damned.

He punched his fist into the air with every no he sung into the mic. He closed his eyes and for a second he was there. The crowd was there with him, punching their fists into the air in time with his own. His throat was tingling as he held the note and he could feel the heat of the lights on him as he plucked at his imaginary guitar strings during the bridge. By the time the song came to the close he finally opened his eyes and he could tell his voice was hoarse as the song finished.

“Closer to, the edge.”

Natsu laughed to himself as he whipped the sweat from his brow and removed his headphones… to the sound of applause.

A single applause. Natsu looked up in horror to find the scantily clad brunette from earlier that had groped Lucy’s… that had groped Lucy. Cana.

“Hhhooo boy!” She shouted from her seat in the back row, “Well, damn. I sure am on the edge of somethin’!”

Even from this distance Natsu spotted her wink. For the second time in an hour, he was sure he was gonna puke.

Gajeel lifted his eyes from the ninth thick line of crossed out lyrics, cocking his head to the side as he listened. If he didn't know any better, he would have sworn that was his dumbass cousin’s voice faintly forcing its way into his cabin.

Had Natsu gotten his hands on a fucking megaphone?

Gajeel closed his eyes, concentrating on what the hell the words were supposed to be. No way...

Gajeel was going to get his hands on Natsu's iPod and delete everything pre 2010, that boy needed to stop living in his emo past. And he said Gajeel had bad taste in music.

“Yer owner’s such a fuckwit he probably doesn't even know the mics on.” Gajeel said to the bundle of blue fur curled into the crook of his knee. Happy lifted his head and blinked at Gajeel slowly, meowing loudly before tucking back into a fuzzy ball. “Ya get me.” He nodded to himself, rubbing a knuckle between Happy’s ears fondly, the small cat’s low purr sparking the cat resting on Gajeel's head to begin to purr as well.

With a low curse Gajeel turned his attention back to the pad of paper in front of him. He couldn't even get a measly line down, and he was getting close to just digging through Gray's bags for a lighter and setting the entire fucking building on fire. Notebook included.

He'd save the instruments.

Probably.

Probably not his roommates though.

Gajeel settled for whipping the pencil across the room, sticking lead first between the paneling. Gajeel nodded to himself. Metal as fuck.

Panther Lily meowed in approval.

Happy didn't care. But Gajeel couldn't blame the cat, he probably had brain damage from listening to Natsu blubber over Lucy for months.

Gajeel pulled another pencil from behind his ear, two others pushed into the knot he had put his hair in to get it out of his face. He bit sharply on the end, pencil eraser gone so all he got was the sharp tang of metal and the satisfying crunch of the fake wood.

Maybe that was where his writer's block was coming from. Natsu had been getting his inspiration from love and flowers and other disgusting things so where was he, a true artist with an aversion to love songs, meant to gleam some ideas from? The sky?

Oh the sky looks so blue, he thought, just like your hair. The sun is her headband.

Gajeel sat up straight. No. This would not do. If he started singing about love- an emotion which he had never, for the record, experienced ever- what would he start singing about next? Laughter? Friendship? The joy of learning???

Yeah fucking right.

He shook his head to clear his thoughts. This was just a classic case of Overexposure. To Natsu, that is. That moron was so lovey-dovey Gajeel wouldn’t be surprised if he woke in the night to find the hothead kissing his pillow. No, he had to distance himself so that his symptoms wouldn’t worsen. No doubt the idiot would be on his way back any moment now once he’d realised the true scale of his embarrassment.

Gajeel decided to take a walk and stay clear of the drama.

He untangled Lily from his head, holding the black cat in one hand as he scooped the blue one in his other hand. Both meowed in complaint of being moved, limp in his hands as he stood from the bed. He rolled his eyes when he watched them snuggle deeper into the pillow he placed them on, Happy crawling on top of Lily before falling back asleep.

If Gajeel was less of a badass he'd call them cute. But he wasn't, so he shoved his notepad under the thin mattress, grabbed his noise canceling headphones, slung them around his neck as he grabbed his phone and threw open the front door to the cabin.

He was stopped from fully exiting, however, when he bumped into something. He looked around, confused as to what had blocked him.

“Oh um, hello,” a light voice said. Gajeel narrowed his eyes at empty space in front of his face. It was like if he thought about her she just appeared.

“Whatcha want, Shrimp?” Gajeel asked, feeling his lips crack into an unauthorized smile as he looked down. Levy pouted at the -very clever, Gajeel thought- nickname, hands fisting on her hips.

“I have a name you know.” She said pointedly, glaring at Gajeel as she leaned forward. Heh, it was cute how she tried to intimidate him.

Wait.

No. She wasn't cute. Gajeel didn't think anything was cute.

“Yeah. Yer name’s ‘Shrimp’.” Gajeel smirked, patting a hand on her head. Shit, she barely reached his ribcage when he flattened her hair. But damn if it didn't feel soft against his fingers.

“You're messing up my hair!” Levy complained, swatting at his hand. Gajeel it took back with a shrug, grin widening when she muttered as she fixed her bright yellow headband, the colour loud against her bright blue hair. Gajeel wondered if she dyed it. “Dummy.”

“So what brings ya callin’? Need someone to lift you to reach the high shelf?” He teased. She blushed in irritation, huffing as Levy tried to think of a comeback.

“No.” She said, pausing again as she bit her lip. “I was looking for Lucy, and I thought she might be with Gray and Loke. But it looks like they're not here.”

“Well why the hell am I ‘posed to know where those idiots are?” Gajeel questioned, a heavy stone sitting in his gut at Levy’s disappointed face, her frail shoulders dropping.

“We were supposed to go explore the camp together.” Levy said, voice almost a nasally whine. She gave another heavy sigh, slipping her hands into the pockets of her shorts, white cloth peaking out from the short cargo coloured pants. Gajeel thought it was pretty stupid that her pockets were longer than her actual shorts, but he also wasn’t about to tell that to Levy;s face when he could get an eyeful of thigh. Not that Gajeel was looking. Because he wasn’t.

He wasn’t.

“Well if ya promise to not bug me too much I can give you a tour ‘till we find Bunny Girl.” Gajeel grunted, shifting awkwardly on his feet. Why had he done that? The whole point of leaving the cabin was to not think about pretty girls.

Holy fuck he was going to fucking kill Natsu with one of the strings from that stupid red guitar.

“What?” Levy asked, brown eyes wide like a doe’s. Gajeel grunted again, walking past her and down the path.

“It was just a thought.” He said, ducking his head as he lifted his headphones over his ears. Maybe that would hide their burning colour.

“No, no, wait! Thank you, I’d- I’d appreciate that!” Levy called, hurrying to walk beside him. Gajeel looked from the corner of his eye, hesitating before pulling the headphones back to where they wrapped around the back of his neck, tucked under his bun. He stuffed his hands into his jeans, thumbnail rubbing along the pick he kept in his left pocket.

They walked in silence, nerves finally making Gajeel want to punch a tree. This was stupid. He was stupid. What did it matter that he could pick Levy up with one hand, or that she was showing what was probably an obscene amount of skin for a summer camp. Were the rips in the back of her tank top really necessary? Even if they looked metal...

He paid more attention to Levy as they wound their way through the cabin area. Her eyes were focused directly ahead, eyebrows set in concentration. She was taking almost three steps for every step he took. And that was fucking hilarious.

“Havin’ trouble there, Shrimp?” Gajeel asked, widening his stride. He wondered if he could make her run to keep up.

“Well not all of us are so blessed in the height department.” Levy snapped, irritated scowl pulling down her full lower lip and making the bridge of her nose bunch. She gasped when she noticed his longer strides, swatting at his chest with the back of her hand in an offended motion. “You’re doing this on purpose!” She accused, stopping in her spot and crossing her arms to glare at Gajeel.

“Gihii, I don’t know whatcha talkin’ ‘bout Shrimp.” Gajeel drawled, scratching the side of his face as he looked her over. “Ain’t my fault ya got some size envy.”

Levy’s glare finally made a shiver crawl along his spine, and a thought crossed his mind that Levy could very well kick his ass is she wanted to. He had no idea how, but it still felt very true. “I mean, I’m sure bein’ so small could come in handy. Like communicating with the mice that make your clothes.” Gajeel bit his tongue. Why couldn’t he stop teasing her?

“Are you calling me Cinderella or referencing a children’s book?” Levy asked, suspicious as she slowly walked back to his side.

“Uh,” Gajeel stumbled over his words. Shit. “No?”

“Because that book was my favourite when I was a kid,” Levy hummed, tone suddenly light as they began walking again. “I think it was called Everything For Something? Or was it Nothing From Someone?” Levy hummed, tapping a finger on her lips as she spoke. Gajeel twitched with each improper title. Obviously, it was Something From Nothing, but he wasn’t about to say that. He shrugged instead, focusing on the few birch trees in between the maple and harlequin trees, their white and peeling bark standing out in the sea of green.

“Oh well, I’m sure it’ll come to me.” Levy pouted, put out by being unable to trip up Gajeel. He began to pick at the flaking design on his guitar pick in his pocket as silence fell over them again. Why did he care if it was awkward? He didn’t, because that would A; mean he cared at all -which he didn't- and B; that Gajeel felt awkward, which he definitely didn’t. He also didn’t want to hear Levy laugh. She probably snorted like the nerd she was for knowing that reference.

“So how’d ya know Erza?” he asked instead of keeping his fat mouth shut. Maybe he should pick up his bad habit of chewing on his necklace. At least then his fucking voice wouldn’t crack. Not that it cracked. Because Gajeel was past puberty, obviously.

He didn’t know how but he blamed Natsu.

“Oh, I take Judo with Erza, and she teaches a self-defence class I go to sometimes.” Levy said easily. At least Gajeel knew his self preservation instincts were right, if she was in the same class as Erza then she could take his ass in an instant.

“I haven’t seen ya around the city. Though I guess I wouldn’t be looking so close to the ground to notice, gihii-urgh.” Gajeel said, smirk falling as she elbowed him in the spleen. Damn did she have pointy elbows, but Gajeel couldn’t let her know that, so he kept walking, ignoring the throbbing and inability to breath.

“I’m not even that short!” Levy defended.

“Are you over five foot?” Gajeel asked, peering down at her expectantly.

“Four ten and a half.” Levy grumbled under her breath, huffing and looking away when Gajeel cackled loudly. “Shut up. How do you know Erza, anyway? Judging by the way you ran at lunch I’d say you two know each other pretty well.”

Gajeel grit his teeth when he remembered the fiasco that had been completely his cousin’s fault. And his roommates for that matter. “We’ve both been regulars at camp for a couple years, my pink haired dumbass of a cousin too, and we go to East Hill together. If ya think she’s a terror here you don’t even know what she’s like as student president.” Gajeel shivered as he remembered their pep rallies, attendance not optional. “I don’t know how Juvia manages to wring her in.”

Gajeel and Juvia had come up through the same middle school class, both part of a local gang that Juvia’s uncle had run. Igneel had tried to step in, but with Metalicana serving overseas as an army mechanic there had been little chance of Gajeel listening to him. They had both finally left together just before a big bust sent Juvia’s uncle to jail and her on the street, then Gajeel’s house. She had found solace in musical theater while Gajeel had reconnected with Natsu and Igneel, even if he’d never admit to his cousin how much he had helped him. Now Gajeel was set to graduate his metalshop program with honours next year, and Juvia wouldn’t stop bugging him and Natsu to join band and work in the pit for her last performance. As if Gajeel was gonna go anywhere near Erza and her obsession with the stage, even if she was only the stage manager.

“Wow, it seems like everyone here knows one another,” Levy sighed, the two now wandering through the outdoor activity stations. Gajeel raised a pierced eyebrow as he noticed the arrows and bows just laying in the field. Who was the genius that left those out?

“We get new people every year,” he said gruffly, inspecting an arrow off the ground. “Like Bunny Girl and those the dumbass she brought with her.”

“How come you call her Bunny Girl?” Levy asked, wandering to the next station that held bocce balls and lawn markers.

“‘Cus she looks ‘bout as scary as a cotton tailed rabbit.” Gajeel said, head snapping to Levy when he heard a light snicker. Her hand covered her mouth but her dark eyes were dancing, and Gajeel grinned proudly. He'd managed to make her laugh.

“Don't let her hear you say that.” Levy warned, wagging a finger at Gajeel even as she returned his shit eating grin -as his father liked to remind him every time they saw one another. “I'm sure it takes a lot of skill to herd Loke, Gray, and Cana. They're like cats.”

Gajeel scoffed. “Don't insult cats like that.”

Levy laughed openly, clasping her hands behind her back as they wandered past the rock wall and along the path that would lead them to the rehearsal studios. “You're right,” she hummed.

“Hey! I see Juvia!” She said suddenly, gripping Gajeel's wrist as she began a light trot. Gajeel blinked dumbly down at where her tiny hand half encircled his wrist, just above the spike wristband he wore, because it was metal.

“Uh,” he said, like even more of an idiot, letting Levy drag him to where Juvia had begun to wave. He noticed how her hair bounced with each step, light and easily caught in the breeze as it fluttered around her headband. Gajeel was reminded how blue was his favourite colour.

Fuck.

Natsu wondered if he jumped off the stage if the five feet would be enough to kill him.

Probably not.

He debated trying it anyway as Cana sauntered down the steps. Natsu yanked at his headphones, stuffing them in what was already a knotted mess of wires into his hoodie pocket, hands following after he placed the mic on the ground as he tried to will himself to disappear. “So tell me, how’d you switch personalities like that?” Cana asked as she made her way to the stage, crossing her arms on the edge of the elevated floor and looking up at him. “One minute you're the dictionary definition of ‘needs a hug but doesn’t know how to ask for one’ and the next you’re Mr. Rock God, owning the stage like it’s your bitch.”

Natsu choked on his spit, taking a hand out of it’s safety nest to pull his beanie further down his face. Maybe if he just prayed really hard a meteor would fall from the sky, killing him instantly. When a few seconds passed with no such divine intervention, Natsu released the breath he’d been holding and peeked at Cana, who now sat on the edge of the stage, one knee bent as an armrest and the other hanging off the old wood. She raised an eyebrow as more silence passed by them, taking a sip from a flask she had gotten from... somewhere.

“The music, I guess.” Natsu mumbled, shifting awkwardly from foot to foot. He knew that Cana was close to Lucy now, and whatever hope he had of not being a total idiot in front of her was gone. Her and Cana were probably going to laugh about it for hours. And Loke. And Gray too, probably.

Fuck.

Maybe he’d just live in the woods for the rest of camp.

“Well you should get that confidence with whatever you do. I haven’t heard someone sing with that much raw talent for years.” Cana said instead, and Natsu almost choked on his spit, again. He stalled under her unexpectedly serious look, head tilted forward as her mouth followed her lowered flask. “It suits you.”

Natsu was struck by the sudden family resemblance between her and Gildarts. The old man had been Natsu’s mentor the last few times he’d been at Fairy Tail, Natsu always feeling easy around him like he did with his own father. He didn’t know why, but seeing the same eyes staring at him from the semi-drunk teenager both calmed and unnerved him.

‘Um, thanks.” Natsu said.

“No prob!” Cana smiled, back to her early cocky smirk. “‘Sides, Lucy loves guys that look like they know what they’re doing, and you have the right amount of innocent virgin that’ll take her off her guard.”

Natsu flushed deeply, stuttering over harsh denials at Cana’s vague hand movements that gestured to, well, him. “I-, I mean I’m not not but I d-don’t see, I- fuckin’ alcoholic!” he finally spat out, glaring at the ground as he hopped from the stage, hands stuffed back into his pocket in fists. His glare snapped to her as she cackled loudly.

“Holy shit, if you could see your face! Relax buddy, no one cares here, duh. It’s a stupid social construct anyway, no need to get your panties in a bunch.” Cana waved off, patting him roughly on the back as she followed suit and pushed off the stage, walking towards the entrance to the arena.

Natsu debated turning on his heel and disappearing to go find a nice cliff to throw himself off of, but decided against it. Who would take care of Fev? Happy was sure to find a good home with one of his cousins, but his guitar? He wouldn’t trust her with anyone but himself.

“Yknow,” Cana began, pulling him from his thoughts, “your performance actually reminded me of someone.”

Natsu raised an eyebrow.

“Who?”

Cana opened her mouth to answer the question, but was interrupted by a very loud, very abrupt, distinctly red-headed-

“YOU THERE! HALT!”

Cana cursed to herself before springing up and grabbing Natsu by the scarf.

“Run for your life you virginal Jared Leto!”

Natsu fought for breath as Cana pulled him along, his feet complying with the harsh jolt from the rest of his body. He glanced behind them just as they slipped backstage to see two people, one with ‘Camp Enforcer’ written on her megaphone in sharpie, running down the steps towards the stage.

Why did he not check the mic was on?!

Eventually Cana let go of him to fumble with the dock on a stage side door. Her steady hand surprised him considering he was pretty sure that flask she'd had not five minutes ago was now empty. Within seconds they were out the door and barricading it behind them.

They ran for another five minutes. Making sure she-who-shall-not-be-named was no longer in pursuit. Cana found the whole endeavor quite hilarious. Natsu, however, was shitting himself. Even if Erza hadn't caught him now, there was no doubt she'd recognized his voice. She would come for him. Maybe not now. Maybe not later. But soon.

She would find him.

Natsu gulped.

“Anyway, what was I saying again?” Cana asked as though they hadn't just finished running for their lives.

“Something about my performance remind you of someone?”

“Oh yeah!”

“Please don't say Gray,” Natsu cut in, “I couldn't live with myself.”

“Oh no, you don't wear nearly enough eyeliner.”

“I don't wear any eyeliner.”

“That's not the point here,” Cana waved her hand flippantly and pulled another, different flash from- well, it had to be thin air bc the girl had no pockets. Or y’know, an actual shirt.

And then she surprised him even more.

“You reminded me of Lucy.”

Natsu froze.

“WHAT?!”

“Have you ever seen her perform.” She insisted, “And I don't mean that fancy-smanshy graceful piano playing- I mean really perform.”

“I-I've never even heard her sing.”

“Well first of all, you're missing out. But second of all,” Cana smiled to herself, “About a year ago Lucy had this huge argument with her Dad. I can't even remember what it was about but fuck- she stayed at my house for a full week. Then all of a sudden, she just went home. Said everything was fine. Loke found out she'd signed up to the talent show the next day, and eventually she all asked for our help in putting her act together. But it was her act. It was the first time she ever went solo.”

Natsu listened with interest, not quite understanding where Cana was going with this.

“She invited her dad. Reserved the best seat in the house for him. And by God, that was the best ‘fuck you’ performance I've ever seen in my life.”

“What did she do?” He was a little afraid to ask.

“She sang Not Ready To Make Nice by the Dixie Chicks and man, country was so unexpected but fuck if she didn't work it.” Cana looked up at the sky, awe in her eyes as she relived the performance. “Played her violin as even more of an ‘in your face, Dad’ point and damn if I didn’t cry tears of joy watching that angry little blonde seeth into the microphone and play her violin to a non classical song. The audience broke into the loudest applause of the night, even if her dad refused to pay for her music lessons afterwards.”

Natsu stumbled over a stone. “He stopped her from playing and singing because she was mad at him?” Natsu asked, horrified. He and Igneel had gotten into a few screaming matches about his attitude when he was younger, sure, but the thought that Igneel would ever deny him a part of himself, Natsu just couldn’t imagine a parent doing that.

“Pssh, as if. Nah, Lucy used the allowance she had been saving and applied for scholarships for the programs. Got in too, when she proved that her father refused to support her.” Cana brushed off, turning over the empty flask and pouting as it solidified her lack of prohibited drink.

“Oh,” Natsu said. Real smart. Cana’s telling him about a major moment in Lucy’s life and all he can say is ‘oh’. Still better than being caught by Erza though, so Natsu would take it. He looked around as they met the main path that led in a loop around camp, pale gravel reassuring as it meant he was only a few minutes away from being able to hide in his cabin for the next 48 hours.

“Shit.”

Natsu was being yanked by his scarf -again- before he could ask what Cana had seen, forced to look at the bulletin board that would house the weeks’ themes once they were released. Right now though, it held bulletins for school opportunities, programs, concerts, scholarships, and dead center; a poster for a karaoke night happening at the camp fire after sundown tomorrow.

“You two! Have you seen anyone run by here?” A voice called behind them, Natsu feeling his soul try to escape via puking and every nerve in his body fighting between ‘run for your life’ or ‘lay down and accept your fate’.

“No idea what you’re talkin’ ‘bout Erza,” Cana drawled, perfectly playing the clueless camper role. “But if you see who had just been singing tell them congrats on the record deal quality voice.”

Natsu blushed at the compliment, hands fisted tight in his pockets and struggling to concentrate on the board. There was no way she meant that. Natsu had an average level voice, at best. Now, if he could show off his guitar skills, then maybe she would tell Lucy about it...

“I will tell them that the stage is off limits territory when not during an event.” Erza snapped, obviously irritated at missing her victims. Aka, Natsu. “What are you two doing here anyway?” she asked, squinting when Natsu finally turned to look at her over his shoulder.

“Just checking out the opportunities on the board!” Natsu said, voice cracking and sending him burrowing into his scarf.

“Yeah, I was just convincing Natsu here to do karaoke night! Can't keep all this talent hidden behind a dumbass beanie!” Cana added eagerly, slinging an arm around his shoulders and somehow dislodging his ‘dumbass’ hat. Natsu squawked as he lunged for the grey beanie, too late to do anything else but clutch it to his chest.

“Damn! What bet did you lose?” Cana guffawed. Natsu shrank under her laughter and tried to elbow her arm off his shoulders. Why was she the same height as him?

“It's just my hair,” he grumbled.

“It's a good thing Lucy's favourite colour is pink then, eh?” Cana continued to tease, grinning at Erza. “But really, this can't be his actual hair colour.”

“It is.” Erza said with a small smile at Natsu. “And I think it suits him. I will see you both at campfire tonight! I'm looking forward to hearing what you choose to perform tomorrow Natsu.”

Natsu watched blankly as Erza and a girl with purply black hair and a deadly stare stalked off. “What the fuck?” Natsu hissed, shoving off Cana roughly and yanking his beanie over his head.

“Aw cmon, don't be so sensitive.” Cana rolled her eyes. “Besides, she bought it!”

“Now I have to sing at that stupid karaoke thing.” Natsu grumbled. What if there were no good songs, or if his voice cracked. Sure Natsu could sing in the shower, but he'd never actually sang in front of people.

He wanted to put his head through the cork board. Why was he acting so insecure? He was Natsu Dragneel, son of Igneel Dragneel, renowned rescue helicopter pilot. He could do anything he put his mind to.

Except talk to pretty girls like Lucy apparently.

“Well, if you do manage to find the balls to get on stage, try and pick a song you know in your sleep. Or come see me for a confidence boost recipe.” Cana winked, wagging her empty bottle beside her head.

“Erm...” Natsu said, helpfully. What the fuck had he gotten himself into?

Playlist:

Stuck In The Middle - Boys Like Girls

The Anthem - Good Charlotte

Separate Songs - Restorations

Closer to the Edge - 30 Seconds To Mars

Not Ready To Make Nice -Dixie Chicks

March Into The Sun - Echosmith

#ftfanfics #nalu #gajevy #fairy tail #natsu dragneel #Gajeel Redfox #Levy McGarden #erza scarlet #dos #just any writing #not just any nobody collab #song fic #summer camp au #days of summer #these NERDS

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novantinuum · 8 years ago

Note

A little while back when you drew that SHAMELESS STANGST you mentioned you were working on an AU. Can you tell us about it?

(the ‘shameless stangst’ art in question is this)

aaAAAA I’m so glad you asked!! It makes me so happy that at least one person in this world is interested in my silly ideas, ahahah… First off, I would like to apologize for how long it’s taken to respond. I really wanted to sketchily illustrate a scene from this story I’ve got caught in my mind…

Overall, this AU is my excuse to imagine what might happen and how dynamics and events would change if Weirdmageddon were to come too early. (Specifically, if it happened almost directly after NWHS.)

Generally, it begins like so… (More thoughts under cut. Buckle in, it gets long.)

Ford is accidentally injured by his own grenade during his fight with Bill and returns through the portal in severe condition. That comic I made chronicles the VERY first events in this AU, basically.

Stan realizes there’s no way in hell his brother will survive (too much blood loss) without actually competent medical care and instructs Soos (with Dipper and Mabel) to rush Ford to the nearest hospital, which is a good distance outside of town. He ends up hoping in his car and using himself as ‘bait’ to get the FBI away from the shack long enough for them to get out.

Stan’s captured by the FBI, and held in that darn town jail again, ofc. This time, under more guard. He’s supposed to be airlifted out of town to a more secure facility the next morning.

While Ford’s in ICU, Soos ends up calling Wendy late that evening to see if she could bring up a change of clothes for the kids since they can’t be seen in town for a bit with the FBI crawling about. They plan to grab a motel room once they know Ford’s stable.

Wendy (illegally) snatches her dad’s truck, gathers up some stuff, and begins to drive to the hospital. Just as she edges out of town, she sees something colorful ripple in her rearview mirror. Wendy slams to a stop and gets out of the truck to see this strange, monumental wall now separating her from Gravity Falls. It’s kinda hard to tell, but it looks like she’s standing at the edge of a huge dome? And when she touches it, the surface of this barrier feels almost gelatinous, and ripples under her finger. Low-key freaked out and unsure of what else to do, she gets back to the truck and rushes to the hospital, hoping that maybe Dipper’s journal will know what’s going on…

Yes, essentially Bill broke into this dimension way earlier than he was supposed to because Ford was not there in the Shack to encase the rift. The rift cleaved into the fabric of reality when he returned to this dimension was left alone to grow and split even more.

Overall, the Weirdmageddon that will follow occurs while the town is already in shambles from the portal’s activation, and without the unicorn spell being in place on the Shack. Stan ends up being held captive by Bill, as bait to lure Ford back into town, because Bill can sense that he’s not dead and he needs his knowledge to escape. There’s close to no resistance in town this time, barring McGucket and a few others he finds in the woods who are hiding away in the bunker.

Outside Gravity Falls, meanwhile…

Ford’s injuries consist of lacerations that need to be stitched and a few burns. Some of the grenade shrapnel ended up denting his metal plate on the left side of his skull, to the point where it was putting a dangerous amount of pressure on his skull and beginning to cause bruising. (Subdural hematoma, likely.)

Now, neither the doctors nor Soos and the kids could explain why this mystery man had an entire METAL PLATE fastened over his skull, but they ended up surgically removing a bit of the dented section to relieve the pressure. Ford is stable now and all is good, fear not.

By this point Soos, Wendy, Dipper, and Mabel all know vaguely what’s going on to Gravity Falls. They caught a news broadcast from Shandra Jimenez reporting on “a giant floating triangle wrecking the town” and put the pieces together. They’re all worrying for their friends and family and desperately want to run back to help them but… there’s also this other great uncle to worry about. The great uncle that they haven’t even properly met yet because of the awful circumstances.

When Ford finally comes to a day or so later, the first thing he notices is… the strange emptiness he feels in his mind. Like he’s missing something. He quickly realizes what must have happened when he feels the bandages on the side of his head and fears he’s fallen into Bill’s clutches and that he’s ripped out the metal plate. He tries fighting one of the nurses when they bring Soos and Mabel back, initially believing them to be shapeshifters.

He’s eventually calmed down though. Through the power of persuasion. (and Mabel!) Thus cue tired and awkward introductions, and Ford realizing that he’s actually home. The realization doesn’t fully set in until Dipper and Wendy switch out to visit and Dipper shows him his old journal.

Of course, then comes the fated question of “Where’s Stanley?”

Oh hell.

Stanley’s trapped in Gravity Falls still. They all know as such, because there was a story on the news about FBI personal trying to land a helicopter in the town after Weirdmageddon started and they were never heard from again. And thus come internal and external conflicts such as:

1) Weirdmageddon. How to stop it. All of the weapons Ford came through the portal with are still in the Shack. They’d have to trail across Gravity Falls unnoticed by Bill to snatch it.

2) Grunkle Stan. Dipper feels awful knowing he’s trapped, because long after they arrived at the hospital, he realized he had that memory erasing gun with him. If only he could have remembered this, maybe they could have erased the FBI agents’ minds? Made them forget? And maybe Grunkle Stan could be there with them too. They didn’t know Great Uncle Ford, but he DID. He’d know what to do.

3) Everyone worrying about their friends and family, and not knowing if they’ll ever see them again.

4) The gang has a hard time convincing Ford to actually stay in the hospital for a bit to actually recover, instead of him running off to try and rescue Stan from Bill.

5) Ford’s metal plate. A good portion of it’s been removed, and with it, the mental protection from Bill it granted. Ford fears that the second he even STEPS into Gravity Falls Bill will immediately possess him again. Ofc because he feels shame over his past mistakes in trusting Bill, he declines to let anyone else know about this.

This is just some of the set-up, and there’s plenty more shit I’ve thought about, but from there (once Ford becomes 100% sick of remaining in the hospital for any longer than he physically has to) it goes into them all actually trying to break back into Gravity Falls to stop Bill.

There’s probably going to be a lot of angst, but fear not- it will all culminate in a happy ending for everyone besides Bill (who will suffer muahahah) and there eventually will be lots of bonding. And heck, probably a lot of bonding in between. You can still bond with family and friends and relatives you never knew existed while facing the end of the world, right? Right.

But hey, not everything’s set in stone for this yet. Please, if you have any interest in this, don’t hesitate to chat with me about it or send me random thoughts or ask me questions. I’d love to flesh aspects of this out through collaboration and on-the-spot thinking and so forth. Yay!

(If you thought this was cool, please do a starving artist a huge favor and consider reblogging it? AU ideas are really hard to spread alone. Thanks!)

#jokingly i call this 'worstmageddon'#but y-yeah it still doesn't have a name #halp #my post stuff #my art stuff #my as-of-yet unnamed gf au #gravity falls #weirdmageddon #stanford pines #stanley pines #soos ramirez #wendy corduroy #dipper pines #mabel pines #fiddleford mcgucket #gravity falls au #gravity falls fanart #my au stuff

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metaldomeblogs · 3 months ago

Text

High-Performance Triangle Metal Domes Switch for Custom Applications

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#Triangle metal domes switch

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lunarfae714 · 8 years ago

Text

more poems, a few seasons past

how lucky to have breath

stop & ask why we live

question our structures

question human history & wor ship

find out we know nothing.

just be.

an open container

for Spirit.

***

twenty Worn tetherballs

off-the-chain

in the plain view of

concrete charade

people in heavy metal boxes

on wheels shrugging off

piss-stained balls

in unmarked yards

i wonder if you

saw the roads,

high ways

concrete carplays

in the colors of the mental play

of each driver

would they be

colorful, or still grey?

grateful or stray?

what strain of gasoline

fuels the minds

of mindless drivers

what excites us

while our earth decays

who makes our day

when the culture is so far away

from deep roots,

holding neighbors' hands

taboo

what can we plant

& grow too?

return to our mother

to our tribe.

together,

without divide.

possession at the rainbow gathering.

sacred fire

not so sacred afterfall

as the village dissects the chip

from the backside of her ear

she stops talking to rosemary-

who haunts her waking,

green eyes that travel

like a bouncy ball,

lost

muttering

paranoid

in a void.

***

let these hands transform

to portals to open doors

from playing the piano of dirt,

sparking fruitful dance of the earth

Gaia feeds us when we feed her

when we pour out love, it comes back in

we let another cosmic spiral begin~

to serve our creations of the now~

for our hearts, our ears, our old souls

in strange flresh want to be stirred, not shut down

conduct our hands & our throats

as intruments of Light, sailing the eternal boat

help us let go of illusions of fear,

discomfort, darkness we know

help us let Go

the light comes in nothingness

it comes in silence

our shared dream

our family

our energy

recycled & renewed

cleansed with intention

our energy reflects

infinity.

***

pictures for what

at the sevensacredpools

high rockpiles

tourists drenched in neon

not stopping to be

but to get a photograph.

as the water that freefalls

with the wind, the breath

of the Sea & i came

by foot, naked under a raincoat

to watch the sky sitcom,

color show,

highfive cows

on the silent jungle road.

the sole palm on the mountain

anal, how we can be selfish

not giving all we can like the

monkeypods give the wind,

the rain gives the stream,

we plant the seeds for our earth

or ourselves

what is really greater

its

obvious

and yet

we destroy it

but the pictures are pretty

what moment is worth capturing

when memory distracts us

from growth?

glorify the photo

the still

eternal film

identity

how can we be fre

from our memory?

***

newyearseve at the potfarm

when we broke the wood splitter

after sunsets

cum & dirty animals

on the trail

fingering a carcass

shoegaze & bodyshots

on couches that aren't ours.

& the girl on the phone

asks what i'm doing with

my poetry degere

***

when i am blind

i can really see

how the sun reflects the rocks on the shore

a million suns line the sea

& mother moon takes up half the sky

the light is grand when i can see.

***

plate lunch

found bliss in darkness

you are the white light in my dream

when our chests align

divine

runs through our body line

celestial

nightlightning strike on

these cages of flesh

these brains

of judgment &

fear, weight

evaporate

with the light

angel

when i am only

white light

charged

full-body-bliss

the game creatures of the system

fully charged

to give the white light to

next emotional vagabond

the sleeping dream is

the waking dream

and we are the fingers to turn the switch

kitttens in the palm of my hand

detachment meditation

the ever-moving train within

we become the beauty

of earths afternoon rainsong

bamboo creaks of delight

aesthetic throatsing

sweet simplicity of hot water

and ginger.

the bowl sings

when the wind moves

over our head.

remove the mask

and truly see everything.

***

12.29.16

above the monkeypods,

touched by south-blown aire,

the breath of old-man Saturn

we wait among

nebulas of cyberlit selfiesticks-

modern self-sacrifice--

wait for the moon to rise--

to wait

a lost practice

in the fast-paced

outer-space

instant-gratified

culture without gratitude.

wait

on layers & layers

of sacred stone.

present-

with the knowledge

inside these bodies

we were once the hands

that carried the stone,

the bled freely,

that knew the reflections

of the planetary drama:

the sky-show on Earth

the sacred Nature

& geometry of it all-

even the rocks wait with us

in our collective breath

in this cloud of illusion

brought by the family

of dragonflies.

1.25.15

the darkness inbetween

flashes of consciousness

like drowning air

the hidden woodpecker

or the muted tree

the distant shotgun

melody, off-key

or how the cobweb tangoes

from the liquid gold

coasulates 5pm power of afternoon sun

a never quiet forest

forever beckoning yet

i forgot the magic

down the tree talk

leave the thumbprint acrons

speared dry pine tears

the worms and the thorns

the rhythmic bubbles

of breath like the hotsprings

fairywands

synsthesia woodspell

mesmerizing & dulled

with my blank stare in the pan

my body that will tremble no more

to reel in the

brother & sister shepherd

until the bites swell

my skin once again.

i take a baby pinecone

& wait to exhale.

2.6.15

neruda aftertastes of lovepoems

i come in your nothingness

like a passing rainffall

thoughts lost before

the sun's descent

i come in your mayan silence

like a bite of garden candy

in the middle of a fast

you come to me in dreams--

even in dreams, you lift me

with wonder, divine light

two nude chests perfectly align

sorrows dissipate like dew

the other eve, you were the water

of my illusion. you sobbed

shoulders hunched & heaving

for you, for me, for

the static of our living movie.

why did i leave neverland

for another open hand?

i will be the Bliss you bring me.

a late february migration

not spending a dmie

bicycles where the cars pass

down the volcano,

in a musty trailer with bellyaches

distracted from the new colors

of flora

i still feel it-

in the folks who lift us up

in the backs of their trucks

in the washed-up tortoise

& freefalling passionfruit,

mellow music & polynesian words

like medicine of

slow-moving people

on a slow-moving island.

1.31

cream-colored fairies before noon

wave after wave, stretched & bird-like

transforming into waterfowl

flowed with breasts & freckles,

whiskey shadow gods explain

narratives of the dead kings

and holy mothers from Spain,

irrelevancies?

december sweat

underbelly portal

left open too long

can the body forget to breathe?

can the chicken be born again

to walk out of your potroast?

the belly rolls of dead madron

the rolls in the way

between a clear mind

and the state of distraction

don't linger on loves lost,

the lack of drive

december sweat

from my armpits

to the hole under the madron

to water the earth

as i burrow my bones.

***

santa cruz

twenty-two days to reach enlightenemnet

crowded redwood trails

this morning made our

separation a scene

to be by the sea

the water that mirrors the wild in me

light colors here hide the darkness

the oversized pastel homes

the white skin that reigns

worriless over white sand

when you cook close

sun reflects the glass, for grains, charcoal bark

whiteness

in the dark solitude of the mountain

i went a little mad.

winter solstice

black panther spirit in an abandoned field

when we slept in the church van

Bast, or an old Indian

reminding us of the white man torture.

with my spirit guide beside

desert trips where there used to be forest

california is dead.

christmas tamales inspired by the border

my season of depression.

my dance teacher once told me

making the bed each day just makes the whole house look nice

instructing the direction of my hips.

music is in every moment

music already abundnat

frequencies & fractals

geometry of movement

death is stealing new cycles

the animals of our bed

change with the temperature of our tears

the cycle of our mothers

we communicate here

travel through the galaxies

warm tears of sorrow & joy

faces in everything

trees remind you of the people you miss in yourself.

counterclock spirals

in the half-lit cabin

we watch fire like a television,

the sound of fallen wood tongues

we roll the dice in the manifesting mind

read wet eyes of my lover

always surprise me

candelit rest

in the pyramid home.

-fluid static-

lullyabing nightmares

the appetizers we dream in the mid-afternoon

bells of bedridden in our sacred triangle

madron, smoke & mirrors,

high-hung hiding termites and antlers,

a dome to sky pines.

spirits flash in to watch

the dark shadows of grace float ---the creatures.

what are street drugs?

laying on the bench outside the coffeshop,

run by a wealthy church.

overheard conversation

"not much to talk about=not too bad"

they hold their books from the Free Bible room

"have my bed its not weird, its not weird"

so removed in my head on narcos & weeping

in public from the way we treat each other & our pathwhere

i lost it

"it is easy not to look"

suburban sidewalk study

they look at me & look away

i needed a break from the noise

the orchestra of voices

loud women constant concerns &

biology notes & lost boots left

the churchgoers car

nice drums or jazz

monster of control & demand

well dressed church leaders

the church folk always look happier

the safety in identity,

acceptance in anonymity

Which do you prefer?

the anonymity of white privelge

smiles from passing men or children

or the constant attention of a white girl

in central america

smiles from passing men

both kind and undressing

to fade or melt in fake empires?

new mexico first

midnight coyote call & elk herds

push shower & chocolate oatmeal on a campstove

cacti spruce & mesquite

empty roads & desert

adobe & forests

dry heat, redwillow, aspen and mullen.

crescent waxing

in the Sky's midnight cloud paintings

leaving Pueblo into the Rockies

in the valley by river end

sunset moonrise

folk music & free firewood

grandfather faces in a redrock mountain

the most constellations under

the clear sky with lightning storms afar.

befriending bibcycle junkies

outside the donut shop

in the town where i dont belong

sunshine cupo'joe to calm

a long night of meth.

hidden hundreds

in a fake locked book,

jerry garcia

eases the sneeze & aches

roadhead to ease the fights

bald cop with traveling advice

sleeping & sneezing in reststops

free food and kind strangers in memphis

latenight roadsodas

stovestop cooking

cement lots with new friends

arkansas

for naked boatrides,

on a manmade lake

until the elder tells us to come back

the universe always provides to the Lovers

friends, meals to eat, where to rest,

water to bathe, towns that like a little color,

soul music, spoken word and dancing hips.

america

self-titled pais of

corporate stores of things that no one needs

restaurants with deadly ingredients

people stay in their boxes

drive in their cars

cops lurking hyjenas to cuff

those whose feet

graze, tease the edge of the boxes

the white-dotted lines

so the animals can return to boxes,

jailcells

and the president

in his great white box

declares war and shows us

to spend money we dont have

perpetual enslavement

taxes to start another

generation of animals.

train emergencies

when they can really know

the nature of themselves

in disappearing grass.

lumberjack love

rainbow

palm-planted

midnight

blue-breasted

humminbirds

of foreign lands

stinkbugs & cicadas

orbit my lobes

in red kitchens

while houseflies

frolick on treasure island

and our bubblegum mattress on wheels-

the birds of paradise

cocoooned

to the insects of now.

my lover

who moves & speaks through the sea & moonlight

has human hands again.

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curiocrab · 5 years ago

Text

Alas, more...

~{Creative Writing}~

Pt.2

Who was the observer of this whole sequence? The thought hadn't occurred to them until just now. They had a body but it was distant and nebulous. It was in the past. Drenched in the vague filter of time. The sequence was a memory. Where was the observer now? In the present?

A body slowly crept into reality, growing out from the center of the chest. It seemed coated in a thick layer of lead. Locked in place by its own weight, pressing relentlessly downward into an uncomfortably flat mattress. Feeling trickled into the mass that was the body.

A brutal ache resonated evenly and thoroughly throughout every muscle. Attempts at movement resulted in pitiful twitches and painful tension.

The head appeared suddenly and rudely in response to a tug from the neck tendons. A sharp pain shot through the entire skull beginning at the left ear and spidering out cruelly. A sharp inhale in response.

This seemingly small action proved intriguing. Their lungs where incredible. They seemed huge and incredibly efficient. Breathing felt like dinking a cool glass of fresh water. It energized and invigorated. It also burned. Not a pleasant minty burn but a sharp chemical burn. It felt as though someone had scrubbed their lungs with bleach. It wasn't unbearable but it was mildly uncomfortable.

The invigoration that came with breathing braught more sensation into the rest of His body. His. Every muscle was inflated and fleashed out. Each was filled with power, shackled by the ache that plagued every inch of him.

He opened his eyes. He was laying in a small, bland, white room. The ceiling emitted a faint florescent glow. The air was just a little too cold and tasted stale. He laid beneath a thin blanket and upon an uncomfortably firm mattress. The room was a square about as long as he was tall. He sat up on the bed. His movements felt effortless yet painful. After a moment or two of getting over the aches he flared up all over his body, he examined the room again from this new angle.

He was sat about a foot above the floor and his head was about a foot from the ceiling. The floor was coated in a thin layer of dust that tainted the white tiles gray. Streaks in the dust caused by wheels and footsteps revealed the shiny tiles. There was an all around medical feel.

Had he gotten in an accident? Where was he? Who had brought him here? Had their been a surgery?

The streaks in the dust led to a large, solid, brushed metal door with a rubber seal around the edge. In one corner of the room was a drinking fountain that sprayed the water into a toilet bowl on the floor. Their were no switches or levers anywhere. Not even a doorknob.

This was a prison cell.

He stood up from the mattress and came up to his full hight which was ---

The pain in his head that had ebbed since it's initial flair lashed out viciously, deep into his skull. His eyes blacked out for a moment and his hand flew up to his left ear.

Or at least, where his ear should have been.

In its place was a flat dome with a short thin structure sticking diagonaly out of the top. It had a smooth metal texture and was a bit warmer than his skin. Pressing or pulling against it caused his vision to dim, his ears to ring and a horrible pain to arc through his head. After he stabilized, his mind began to race.

Who did this? What is this thing? Where am I? Why did it replace my ear? Was their an accident?

What happened?

He scrambled around the room looking for a way out, a crack anything. The mattress sat upon a block of concrete integrated into the floor and walls. The door was tight. The hinges were on the outside so dismantling it wasn't an option. The ceiling was actually made of concrete. The source of it's glowing was anyone's guess. He turned to examine the toilet bowl next but found his own reflection on the water and stopped.

His face was pale and clean. His hair was buzzed almost bald. His eyes where deep and sad looking, framed in dark creases that aged his otherwise youthful face. The thing on the side of his head had a chrome finish. An empty triangle was etched onto the dome and a line was etched up the length of the antenna.

Antenna.

That word he had picked himself to describe the thing on his head terrified him. Was it broadcasting his thoughts to any receiver that tuned in? Was it a receiver itself, taking commands from some distant, unknown organization? Where they controlling him in his sleep?

Footsteps outside the room. Shouts. Voices calling out and speaking quickly. A different language. Everything shook. Sirens. Screams. An explosion.

An LED lit up the triangle on the side of his head. Pale Blue.

I DON'T WANT TO.

A sound, louder than thunder rushed into his head. Blackout.

#my writing #writers #writers on tumblr #writer #exerpt from a story i'll never write #exerpts from a book i'll never write #creative writing #storytelling #story

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itsworn · 7 years ago

Text

Pro Street Is Far From Dead With This ’55 Bel Air!

The Bourikas brothers blend—and bend—Pro-Street with Pro-Mod in this wicked ’55 Chevy Bel Air.

There’s very little that hasn’t been attempted in the world of hot rodding when one takes into consideration the sheer amount of design, engineering, and creativity flowing from the minds of builders from coast to coast. Every so often, however, someone comes along with the fortitude to blend specific styles together to form something that’s been percolating in the back of their mind. Not that it’s the first time it’s been seen, but in their perspective it lends to a perfect balance of form following function.

Peter and George Bourikas of Quincy, Massachusetts, have spent plenty of time over the last 40-plus years flexing their creativity while building a number of hopped-up muscle cars, as well as spending plenty of time at the drag strip dialing them in. Growing up in the mid ‘70s, nothing spoke louder to them than an aggressive street machine with a big-block stuffed between the ‘rails. Peter’s fast to remember that: “you could hear a tough car coming from a block away as the owner squeezed the guts out of its V8, winding through the gears within an inch of its life.”

Then it happened. Scott Sullivan’s landmark ’67 Pro-Street Nova hit the scene, being awarded HOT ROD’s Street Machine of the Year in 1979. The car fast became the standard for Pro Street with its mile-wide rear rubber, badass stance, and supercharged mill. It left the pair awestruck and full of enthusiasm to join the ranks with a back-halfed ’69 Camaro Z-28 stuffed with an 8-71—blown small-block and candy blue paint. The fuse was lit and the car gained more attention than anything they had previously owned, especially at the track. At the same time, they had opened Perfection Auto Repair, a high-line auto body shop in their town, so the Camaro also became a calling card of the shop’s work.

As years passed and the Pro-Street movement continued to evolve, the pair kept track of the scene, continuing their study of trends and watching to see where the inspiration would come from for their next build. Once again, it was Sullivan with a pair of Tri-Fives, the legendary Cheez Whiz ’55 (awarded HOT ROD’s Hot Rod of the Year in ’88) and later the jet-black ’57 Chevy which eventually led them down a road to what you see here—but with a twist. The pair still continued to stay active building cars, but two decades passed as they wove a path leading to the start of this endeavor. With the popularity growing in the Pro Mod racing class, Peter gained new incentive to reboot the inspiration by studying Sullivan’s builds, and morphing them for the future.

After living through the original movement, Peter often wondered where its future might lie with the current blend of new design and fabrication technology. The time was right to start a search for a ’55 Bel Air to get the ball rolling. Historically, it’s known that East Coast cars suffer a terrible fate due to road salt, so finding a decent local car to start with was a chore. Luckily, one was sourced in New Hampshire that had lived through the street machine years, and a poorly attempted Pro-Street reboot. All they needed was a decent shell, so a deal was made and the teardown commenced.

The original chassis and driveline were sold off, and the body was hauled to the legendary Tube Chassis Designz (TDC) to have John Sandahl evaluate the build. Sandahl got busy by fabricating a custom 4130 chromoly double-rail Pro Mod chassis certified to 7.50, meeting SFI 25.1E specifications. A Strange Engineering 9-inch HD steel housing was packed with a 9-inch Pro Iron center, a spool spinning 4.30 gears, and linked to 40-spline gun-drilled axles. It’s suspended by a custom-fabbed TCD four-link, sway bar, and Panhard bar matched to a pair of Strange Engineering Ultra-Series Drag Race double-adjustable coilover shocks.

It’s all business up front, with Santhuff’s double-adjustable coilovers matched to TDC-fabbed chromoly lower control arms, and steering through a Strange Engineering manual rack-and-pinion unit. When it gets serious and you need to stop, a Strange Engineering dual master pushes fluid through stainless lines to Aerospace Components discs (11 ¾-inch front, 11 3/8-inch rear) with matching four-piston calipers. The TDC team then focused on the body, removing the floors and all related interior sheetmetal to integrate the shell to the new chassis. Fresh floors, firewall, and rear wheel tubs were fabricated from sheetmetal and welded in place. The chassis and related sheetmetal were then powdercoated in gloss silver by D&T Powder Coating of Pembroke. It all rolls on Radir Tri-Rib 15×4-inch wheels up front with Centerline Competition Series Vintage 15×15-inch rears, all wrapped in Mickey Thompson Sportsman S/R radials.

To dial in a well-balanced combination of streetable power that could also hold its own on the track, the Bourikas brothers went to Camco Racing Engines of Weymouth to assemble a wicked big-block. Starting fresh, a Dart Big M Sportsman iron block was bored for 540ci and filled with plenty of go-fast goods. It starts with a Callies Magnum crank matched to Ultra I-beam rods, JE 11.5:1 dome pistons, and a custom-ground Comp cam setting a heavy beat. Up top, Camco warmed over a set of Brodix heads which are fed by Kinsler Fuel Injection. The team at Kinsler engineered a custom induction system from a Dart dual-quad tunnel ram that they converted to EFI with an Enderle bugcatcher flowing air specifically through only the center of the three butterflies. It’s fed by an Enderle mechanical cam-driven fuel pump for a nostalgic look, with an electric Weldon pump at the tank.

Turn the key and it all sparks to life through an MSD crank-trigger ignition linked to an MSD 7AL-2 box. Spent gasses rip through a set of one-off headers from Tubular Automotive of Rockland, then onto a TDC custom-fabbed 4-inch exhaust with Flowmaster mufflers. When tuned by Jim Reid Jr of Reid’s Automotive in Whitman, the engine made a725 hp at 6,500 rpm. Power moves rearward though a Triangle Transmission Turbo 400 with an ATI 10-inch Treemaster converter, then to a custom TDC driveshaft.

As a loaded roller with its suspension dialed in, the car had already achieved a nasty stance with plenty of attitude. It was now time to focus on breathing life back into its weathered shell. George replaced the rear quarters, rockers, and doors with fresh stock from CARS Inc. Wanting the car to have a signature look, the brothers consulted with Paul Gamache of Gamache Rod & Custom in Freetown. Well-known for his custom fabrication and vision, Gamache outlined a number of design changes. He crafted the signature hood scoop to embrace the Enderle butterflies and added the floating Corvette grille, new inner fenders, and radiator filler panel. Once back at Perfection, George metal finished the body, set all the gaps, and blended a custom House of Kolor Brandywine Kandy gloss with a mile-deep vibe.

Inside, you immediately see the custom sheetmetal dash by Gamache packed with Auto Meter Ultra-Lite carbon fiber dials, which are set into individual gauge pods by TCD. A custom steering column by TDC, a Grant steering wheel, a Hurst Pistol-Grip Quarter Stick, and Painless Performance ceiling-mounted switch panel cement the new-era Pro Street vibe. To add just the right hint of nostalgia, Carello Upholstery of Warwick, Rhode Island, hit a homerun covering a pair of Kirkey Racing seats and surrounding panels with diamond-pattern black vinyl. The finished car showcases plenty of innovation and personal style, making itself known wherever it goes.

For some, the Pro Street movement might be a thing of the past, but for the Bourikas brothers and many more, the movement that started in the late ’70s is just a jumping-off point for what comes next. By combining old-world craftsmanship with 21st-century technology, Peter and George Bourikas have taken the Pro Street and Pro Mod ethos to the next level. Perhaps the fusion of styles will serve as inspiration for the next generation of builders, just as Scott Sullivan’s work has for the Bourikas brothers. Ultimately, you are the ones who will decide that!

It’s all about proportions and balance. The ’55 nails the look from front to back, paying homage to classic original lines while infusing plenty of ferocity. The combination of Radir Tri-Rib front wheels and Centerline Competition Series Vintage rear wheels adds a classic look.

The team at Camco Racing Engines massaged a Dart Big M Sportsman iron block to 540ci and packed it with high-energy bits including a Callies Magnum crank, Ultra I-beam rods, and JE 11.5:1 domed slugs. Kinsler Fuel Injection converted the Dart dual-quad tunnel ram to EFI, topping it with an Enderle bugcatcher.

The boxed firewall and wiring harness quick disconnects are to accommodate a much more powerful 2,000hp supercharged Rodek alcohol-burning V8 that is planned for track use at a later date.

Looking down into the front of the engine bay you can see the Kinsler vapor separator tank and matching mechanical fuel pump as well as a Meziere remote electric water pump and plenty of Earl’s stainless braided lines.

Warming the massive Mickey Thompson Sportsman S/R 33x22xR15 hides for extra bite is effortless with 725hp of big-block power on tap.

Inside is an immaculate cage and sheetmetal panels from TCD. Look deeper and you’ll see a custom dash cradling Auto Meter Ultra-Lite gauges, and a traditional black diamond-pattern vinyl interior with matching black loop carpet by Carello Upholstery. Shifts fly through a Hurst Pistol-Grip Quarter Stick.

Wheelie bars protrude the tail end of a TCD custom 4130 chromoly double-rail Pro-Mod chassis. The trunk-mounted Simpson drag chute and 4-inch exhaust are just wicked.

The front is a work of art, thanks to Paul Gamache of Gamache Rod & Custom. The sculpted steel hood showcases an Enderle injector; a floating Corvette grille easily separates the car from the rest.

To deliver brute force to the street, a Strange Engineering 9-inch HD steel housing passes the goods through a matching 9-inch Pro Iron center packing spooled 4.30 gears and 40-spline gun-drilled axles.

The post Pro Street Is Far From Dead With This ’55 Bel Air! appeared first on Hot Rod Network.

from Hot Rod Network http://www.hotrod.com/articles/pro-street-far-dead-55-bel-air/ via IFTTT

#IFTTT #Hot Rod Network

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