#dork bin fountain

[eepyestgirlthateverlive]

Work in progress

[shewasverynice]

Fandoms: 呪術廻戦 | Jujutsu Kaisen 

⚠️ SPOILER HEAVY ⚠️

Major Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death 

Full tags/warnings on Chapter links post

Major Characters: Original Character, Gojo Satoru, Geto Suguru, Ieiri Shoko, Yaga Masamichi, Nanami Kento, Haibara Yu, Tsukumo Yuki, Choso

‎‧₊˚✧ Chapter 18 ✧˚₊‧

The courtyard was alive with excitement as the clock ticked down to the New Year. Satoru, practically vibrating with energy, had taken it upon himself to turn the night into an explosive spectacle—literally. He’d gone overboard, as he usually did, ordering enough fireworks to give NASA’s launches a run for their money. 

"Alright, ladies, we’ve got the big mortars, the sparkly fountains, and my personal favorite—this bad boy," Satoru said, holding up a massive rocket like he’d just discovered fire. He grinned like a kid in a candy store, despite Shoko’s exaggerated eye-roll. 

“Try not to blow us up before midnight,” Sarah teased, pulling a fold-out chair from the plastic bin they’d dragged outside. Shoko followed suit, her cigarette lazily balanced between her fingers as she chuckled. 

“He’s definitely blowing something up before midnight,” Shoko muttered, half amused, half resigned. 

Suguru strolled off to fetch a bucket of water, muttering something about “preventative measures” as Satoru shouted after him, “Coward! Have some faith in my genius!"

“Your ‘genius’ is exactly why I’m getting the bucket,” Suguru called back over his shoulder.

With Suguru gone, Satoru immediately dove into organizing his arsenal, spreading them out like a mad scientist. “Sarah, Shoko, come on!" He called over his shoulder, "Don’t just sit there like you’re watching a drama. Help me set up!” he said, cackling. Sarah hopped up, scooping up armfuls of fireworks and following behind him like a lacky.

Shoko leaned back in her chair, blowing smoke up into the crisp night air. “Hmm. No thanks. I’m good here," she said, waving her hand, "You two enjoy yourselves."

“I've got you covered, boss,” Sarah said, smirking and handing him another fountain.

Satoru huffed, but the grin never left his face as he set about arranging the fireworks with a level of precision that was honestly impressive—if not mildly concerning. He tested lighters, muttering under his breath about timing and “wow factor.”

By the time Suguru returned with the bucket of water, Satoru had transformed the courtyard into a launchpad, complete with a row of sparkly sparklers and an ominous cluster of mortar tubes at the far end. Each of the wicks was tied together to make a daisy chain. A long, explosive daisy chain.

“Bucket’s here,” Suguru announced, setting it down near the chairs, “Just in case your ‘genius’ turns into chaos.” 

“Turns into?” Shoko quipped. 

“Rude!” Satoru snapped, standing up and brushing off his pants dramatically, “I’m an artist, okay? Fireworks are my canvas, and tonight, we paint the sky!” 

Sarah laughed and Shoko snorted. “You’re such a dork.” 

As the first sparks of a test fountain hissed and flared to life, lighting up the courtyard in bursts of green and gold, Satoru’s giddy laugh filled the air. 

"See? This is gonna be incredible," he declared, spinning around to face his audience. 

Shoko leaned back in her chair, holding a sparkler Suguru had handed her. “If we survive, maybe I’ll believe you.”

Midnight was still twenty minutes away, but with Satoru’s relentless enthusiasm and enough fireworks to light up Tokyo, it was already shaping up to be a night none of them would forget—assuming they didn’t end up on the news.

Satoru flopped into the chair next to Suguru with a triumphant grin, still high off his “artistry” as the first firework flared and fizzled out in the night sky. 

“Admit it. You’re impressed,” he said, bumping Suguru’s arm. 

Suguru gave him a small, amused shake of his head, but the smile tugging at his lips betrayed him. He handed Satoru a lit sparkler, its tiny golden stars crackling in the cool air. 

“Impressed you haven’t set yourself on fire yet,” Suguru replied dryly. 

Satoru took the sparkler and held it high, waving it in big, exaggerated circles. “Safety is just another word for boring!" He laughed.

The fireworks started popping one by one, lighting up the courtyard in bursts of color. Greens, reds, and silvers painted the dark sky while the friends lounged and laughed, enjoying the show. Shoko sat cross-legged in her chair, holding a sparkler like it was a cigarette, while Sarah clapped and cheered for every big explosion. 

But then… it happened. 

A rogue spark from one of the fountains fizzled, caught the edge of another fuse, and suddenly half the daisy chain of fireworks lit up in unison. 

“Oh. Oh no,” Satoru muttered, his smile creeping wider as the realization dawned. 

“Satoru.” Suguru’s voice was calm, but his eyes betrayed the flicker of panic. 

“Uh, everyone—” Sarah started. 

BOOM! The first misfired mortar rocketed into the air, and then another. The courtyard exploded in chaos as sparks shot in every direction. 

“RUN!” Shoko yelled, leaping out of her chair as a fountain hissed and shot a spray of blue stars over their heads. 

The four of them scattered like startled birds, laughter echoing in the darkness. Satoru sprinted in one direction, dodging a rogue rocket, while Sarah shrieked and ducked behind a planter. Shoko, cool as ever, jogged to the side, barely dodging a spinning firework that whirled wildly in her path. It was like a scene straight out of an action movie, but hilariously slow-motion—fireworks zipping through the air, sparks raining down like glitter, and the four of them weaving through it all, laughing so hard they could barely breathe. 

Satoru, in the midst of his dodging, caught a glimpse of Suguru. His long hair had come loose, cascading over his shoulders as he turned to laugh at something Sarah yelled. The fireworks reflected in his eyes, and the golden light danced on his skin like he was glowing. 

Satoru’s chest tightened, a fluttering sensation spreading through him. His grin faltered for just a moment before coming back twice as wide. 

“Come on!” Satoru shouted, grabbing Suguru’s hand. 

Suguru looked surprised for half a second but then smiled, his fingers curling easily around Satoru’s. Together, they bolted through the chaos, dodging showers of sparks and rockets whistling into the sky. They ducked under a fountain shooting gold streams above their heads, the crackling light cascading around them like a curtain. 

Satoru couldn’t stop laughing, couldn’t stop feeling. The world seemed brighter, louder, and more alive than ever. But it wasn’t just the fireworks or the adrenaline—it was the way Suguru’s hand felt in his, warm and steady as they ran together. It was the way Suguru’s smile lit up his face, soft and radiant, making Satoru’s heart race for an entirely different reason. 

For a moment, it was just the two of them, tangled in the light and chaos, running through the sparks like they were invincible. And for the first time in a long time, Satoru felt completely, irrevocably alive.

The fireworks began to slow, their explosions fewer and farther between, leaving the sky a hazy canvas of smoke and fading sparks. Satoru barely noticed, though. His eyes weren’t on the sky—they were on Suguru. 

Suguru stood a few feet away, his face tilted up toward the stars as the last of the fireworks painted faint flashes of red and gold across his features. He was smiling, a small, content smile that made Satoru’s chest ache in a way he wasn’t used to. 

As the quiet settled in, Suguru brushed his hair back with his fingers, a smooth, easy motion that sent a few loose strands tumbling over his shoulder. Satoru watched, captivated, as Suguru tied his hair back again, his movements unhurried, like he wasn’t aware of—or maybe didn’t care about—Satoru’s eyes on him. 

Satoru felt his heartbeat pick up, a strange mix of nerves and excitement bubbling in his chest. He wanted to say something, anything, but for once, the words wouldn’t come. His usual swagger and confidence felt... misplaced. This wasn’t like cracking a joke or showing off. This was something else. Something new and terrifying and amazing all at once. 

His fingers twitched at his side as he tried to ground himself. But the truth was, he couldn’t stop the thoughts swirling in his head. Suguru. Laughing, smiling, happy. Right here, in front of him.

It hit him, all at once, how much he’d clung to Suguru’s memory in his last life—how every step forward had been weighed down by guilt and regret. He’d laughed, sure, and he’d fought, and he’d lived. But there had always been that missing piece. That weight. But now? Here Suguru was, glowing in the faint light of the fading fireworks, so real it almost hurt to look at him. Satoru swallowed hard, his throat suddenly dry. 

He didn’t know what to do with this feeling—this beautiful, aching thing swelling in his chest. He wasn’t used to being unsure. Satoru Gojo, the great and unstoppable, didn’t do uncertainty. But this? This was different. 

It wasn’t just Suguru being here. It was Suguru being happy. Suguru laughing, teasing him, running through sparks like they were kids again. It was everything Satoru had dreamed of and thought he’d lost forever. 

And it scared the hell out of him. 

“Hey.” Suguru’s voice broke through Satoru’s thoughts, soft but grounding. Satoru blinked, realizing Suguru was looking at him now, one eyebrow raised in that familiar, knowing way that said he’d caught Satoru staring. 

“Uh.” Satoru scrambled, his brain short-circuiting. “What’s up?” Smooth. Real smooth. 

Suguru’s smile widened, just a little, and he shook his head. “You’ve been quiet. That’s rare," he said softly.

“Quiet? Me?” Satoru snorted, leaning back on his heels and crossing his arms like he wasn’t totally losing it inside. “Maybe I’m just giving you a chance to shine for once, huh?” 

Suguru laughed, a low, warm sound that made Satoru’s heart do that fluttery thing again. 

“Sure, sure,” Suguru said, his tone light. He glanced back up at the sky, his expression softening again. “It was a good night, though. Thanks for this.” 

Satoru opened his mouth, then closed it again, his usual witty reply getting caught in his throat. Instead, he just nodded, his gaze lingering on Suguru’s profile. 

“Yeah,” he said quietly, the weight of the moment settling in. “It really was.” 

Just as Satoru was working up the nerve to say something meaningful to Suguru, the moment was shattered by chaos—again. 

“ATTACK!” Sarah yelled, bursting between them like a whirlwind, wielding a Roman candle in each hand like she’d just stepped off the set of an action movie. Shoko was right behind her, mirroring the pose, grinning lazily as sparks shot into the air around them. 

“Light ‘em up, Shoko!” Sarah hollered. 

“Oh, you’re so dead!” Satoru shouted, scrambling to his feet. He yanked Suguru up by the arm, and the two of them bolted as multicolored sparks whizzed past them. 

“You can’t run forever!” Shoko called after them, firing another round of blazing stars. 

Satoru and Suguru ducked behind the plastic bin of leftover fireworks, panting and laughing. Satoru grabbed a handful of sparklers and a fountain, tossing the sparklers to Suguru. 

“Cover me!” he said, grinning wildly. 

Suguru just rolled his eyes, but he lit the sparklers, wielding them like tiny swords as he charged back into the fray. Satoru, meanwhile, worked quickly to light the fountain and send it spraying sparks in every direction, creating a makeshift shield. 

The courtyard turned into absolute mayhem as the four of them chased each other around, Roman candles flaring, sparklers sizzling, and laughter ringing out into the night. They darted through the moonlight like kids on summer break, completely losing track of time in the chaos. 

When the fireworks finally ran out—or, more accurately, when Satoru lit the last Roman candle and held it triumphantly above his head like a victory flag—they collapsed onto the snow, breathless and giddy. 

“Uh… did we miss the countdown?” Sarah asked between gasps of air, her face flushed from laughing so hard. 

“Definitely,” Shoko said, “But who cares? That was better.” 

“Way better,” Suguru agreed, flopping back onto the ground with a yawn. 

Eventually, they dragged themselves back to the common area, laughing and bumping shoulders as they trudged inside. The warmth of the room and the lingering adrenaline made them crash hard, sprawled out on couches and chairs like a pile of worn-out kids after a day at the park. 

Satoru barely noticed himself dozing off until he felt someone shaking his shoulder. He blinked blearily, his vision swimming until Sarah’s grinning face came into focus. 

“Hey, wake up, sleepy sheepy,” she said, her voice teasing. 

“Wha…?” Satoru mumbled, rubbing his eyes. He grinned back at her, his hair sticking up in every direction. “Is it morning already?” 

“Not quite,” Sarah replied, glancing over her shoulder. Suguru was yawning and stretching, while Shoko lazily gathered her coat. 

“Come on,” Sarah said, tugging on Satoru’s sleeve.

Too tired to argue, Satoru let her pull him to his feet, and the four of them made their way outside again, this time heading for the rooftop of the tallest building on campus. The climb was quiet, their earlier energy replaced by a softer, calmer anticipation. 

When they finally reached the top, the sky was just beginning to lighten, the faintest hints of pink and orange creeping over the horizon. They sat together in silence, the crisp morning air wrapping around them as the first rays of sunlight broke through the clouds. 

Satoru glanced at Suguru, who was leaning forward slightly, his face glowing softly in the light of the new year’s first sunrise. For a moment, Satoru forgot to breathe. He didn’t say anything, though. He didn’t need to. Sitting there, watching the world wake up with the people who mattered most, he knew everything was perfect.

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂☆

The morning was still and quiet, the kind of calm that made the world feel frozen. Satoru pulled his hoodie tighter against the chilly air, his breath puffing out in small clouds as he walked through the empty streets. His steps were light, deliberate, as if he were trying not to disturb the peace he knew he was about to shatter.

He hadn’t told anyone where he was going. It wasn’t like they’d stop him—okay, maybe Suguru would’ve tried—but this wasn’t about approval or permission. This was about unfinished business.

The streets of the quiet neighborhood were lined with small, neat houses, their windows darkened in sleep. Satoru’s neutral expression betrayed nothing, but his sharp eyes took in everything, scanning every shadow, every glint of light. When he found the house, his pace slowed, but his presence sharpened, coiled like a spring ready to snap.

No curtains. That was the first thing he noticed. His gaze moved to the window, where he caught sight of the two kids inside. Megumi was sprawled out on the floor, his small frame rising and falling with each breath, while Tsumiki was curled up on the couch, her blanket half-kicked off but her face peaceful. They looked… okay. For now.

Then he appeared. 

Toji, still half-dressed in loose-fitting clothes and sandals, wandered through the room, his movements slow but purposeful. Satoru’s eyes locked onto him through the glass, and for a split second, neither of them moved. 

Toji sighed first. Of course he did. He pushed the door open with an air of reluctant familiarity, his sharp eyes sweeping over Satoru. 

“Couldn’t just leave it alone, could you?” Toji muttered, stepping out onto the porch. He didn’t look surprised. If anything, he looked tired, like he’d been expecting this visit sooner or later. 

Satoru leaned casually against the gate, stuffing his hands into his hoodie pocket. “What can I say?" He shrugged, "Old habits die hard. Especially when someone’s screwing with my friends' futures.” 

Toji’s mouth twitched, not quite a smile but not quite irritation, either. “You came all the way here to give me a lecture again?" He sneered.

Satoru’s grin was lazy, but his eyes burned cold and sharp. “Nah. I just wanted to see the face of the man who thought he could ignore my warning," he said with a single chuckle.

The weight of the statement hung between them, the stillness of the morning amplifying the quiet tension.

"I see," Toji said with a nod, straightening up and stepping outside. He slid the door closed quietly, and jutted his chin forward. "Let's not do this so close to home. Don't want to wake the kids."

Satoru didn’t miss a beat when Toji started walking, stepping off the porch and cutting a path toward the empty field nearby. For a guy who had the air of someone who’d rather spend his days napping, Toji’s stride was purposeful, almost casual, like he wasn’t leading someone who’d just threatened him minutes ago. 

Satoru followed, hands still stuffed in his hoodie pockets, his breath forming small puffs in the cool morning air. The field was bathed in the pale orange of the rising sun, frost clinging to the blades of grass, making them glitter like the whole world was quietly celebrating the new year. 

Toji stopped at the edge of the field, tilting his head back to take in the sky. He inhaled deeply, letting the crisp morning air fill his lungs, and sighed as if he hadn’t taken a full breath in years. 

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” he said, his tone lighter than before, “Shame mornings don’t last longer.��� 

“Didn’t peg you for the poetic type," Satoru said with a smirk, his sharp gaze fixed on Toji.

Toji chuckled softly, shaking his head. “Yeah, well, even killers need hobbies," he said, shrugging.

Satoru’s grin widened, but his curiosity was sharper. “Speaking of killers, who gave you the contract?" He asked, tilting his head.

Toji turned to glance at him, one eyebrow raised, before shifting his gaze back to the horizon. “How’d you know I had one already?” he asked.

“Good intuition,” Satoru replied nonchalantly, shrugging one shoulder like that explained everything.

Toji let out a low laugh, and shook his head. “Intuition, huh? Guess that’s fair. We’ve all got our secrets," he said, shoving his hands into his pockets.

The two of them stood there in silence for a while, the kind that wasn’t quite comfortable but wasn’t tense, either. Satoru didn’t push the moment, letting the stillness stretch, his mind ticking away at Toji’s words, his actions, his presence. There was no reason to rush the inevitable and it was the least he could do for the sorcerer killer, especially when they both knew how this was going to end.

Finally, Toji broke the quiet, his voice low but deliberate when he said, “Someone’s onto you."

Satoru stiffened just slightly, his gaze narrowing, but he said nothing. He had a feeling that Toji wouldn't have come after him for no reason. Why would he work for free? He must have had one hell of a contract.

Toji kept his eyes still fixed on the horizon, as if the sunrise held all the answers. “You've been sloppy," he continued, "Stirring the pot between the cult and that weird chaotic Jujutsu group? Should’ve been more careful. Someone knows what you've been doing." 

Satoru’s expression remained unreadable, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes—gratitude, maybe, or understanding. Quietly, he said, “Thanks for the warning." 

Toji nodded a few times, slow and measured, the motion almost imperceptible. He didn’t say anything in return, and the silence stretched again, heavy but not unbearable. 

"One more thing," Toji said quietly, "My son. The Zen'in clan is gonna buy him in a few years. Do with that information what you will."

"He won't be going to those scum," Gojo assured him, "Tsumiki either, if you even give a shit about her."

Toji said nothing. Satoru watched him out of the corner of his eye, noting the set of his shoulders, the way his jaw tensed slightly before relaxing again. This wasn’t a man looking for redemption or validation. Just someone who had laid his cards on the table and was waiting for the next move.

The sun climbed a little higher, painting the field in shades of gold and pink, and Satoru couldn’t help but feel the weight of the moment. It was time.

“Happy New Year,” he said eventually, his voice softer than before. 

Toji glanced at him, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Happy New Year, kid." 

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂☆

The dorm hallways were quiet when Satoru slipped back inside, the soft creak of the door breaking the silence. He kicked off his shoes and stretched lazily, his hoodie slightly damp from the morning dew. As he rounded the corner toward his room, a familiar figure was waiting, leaning casually against the wall with arms crossed.

“Morning stroll?” Suguru greeted, his voice calm but laced with curiosity. His hair was pulled back, his usual neatness softened by the early hour.

Satoru stopped mid-step and grinned. “Couldn’t sleep," he said casually, "Thought I’d get some fresh air. You know, clear the genius mind.”

Suguru raised an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth quirking up when he said, “Right. Just a walk? At six in the morning?”

Satoru shrugged, shoving his hands in his hoodie pockets. “What else would it be?” he asked, tipping his head back.

Suguru shook his head, his expression somewhere between amused and exasperated. “You’re something else, you know that?” he sighed.

“What’s up?” Satoru asked, his smirk teasing as he leaned against the opposite wall, “You look like you’ve got something on your mind.”

Suguru tilted his head slightly, the humor in his eyes giving way to something more serious. “When are you going to start telling the truth?” he asked.

Satoru blinked, caught off guard. He asked, “About what?”

“About so much,” Suguru said, pushing off the wall and taking a step closer, “You act like you’ve got it all figured out. Like nothing gets to you. But I’m not blind, Satoru. I know there’s more going on behind all that aloof and cocky crap.”

Satoru opened his mouth to respond, but Suguru held up a hand, cutting him off. “And before you ask, yeah, I’m a bit concerned. You’re my friend. I care about you. So sue me if I’m worried.”

There it was. That soft, steady voice that Suguru used when he wasn’t just being polite but genuine, and it hit Satoru like a bolt of lightning. He tilted his head slightly, his grin faltering. Was he being too obvious? Did Suguru know how he really felt? 

“Why do you think you need to be worried?” Satoru asked, his tone lighter than the weight he felt creeping into his chest.

Suguru crossed his arms again, studying Satoru carefully. “Because you’ve got too much on your mind," he said, "I can see it. And you can’t keep carrying all of it alone, no matter how strong you think you are.”

For once, Satoru didn’t fire back with a joke. He tilted his head, watching Suguru like he was trying to read between the lines. Was he talking about everything or just… normal things? Did he notice the way Satoru’s attention lingered when they were together, the way his heart felt like it was tied to a string every time Suguru smiled?

“Okay,” Satoru said slowly, his tone casual but his eyes sharp behind those round sunglasses, “What if I told you I was… rethinking my stance on staying unattached?”

Suguru blinked, surprised. “What brought that on?” he asked softly.

Satoru shrugged, a lazy grin creeping back onto his face when he answered with another question. “Why does it matter?”

Suguru’s surprise melted into an almost shy smile, his eyes narrowing like he was trying to figure Satoru out. “I guess it doesn’t," he admitted, "But I’d still like to know why.”

Satoru leaned closer, his grin softening into something more genuine and he murmured, “Maybe I just realized some attachments are worth the risk.”

Suguru held his gaze for a moment, and the air between them felt heavier, charged with something unspoken. Then he shook his head, a faint laugh escaping when he said, “You’re impossible.”

Satoru laughed too, the tension easing slightly. But deep down, he wondered how much longer he could keep this up. Because if Suguru didn’t already know how he felt, he had a feeling he wouldn’t be able to hide it much longer.

Satoru steadied himself, forcing a breath through his nose and past the lump in his throat. He could feel his heartbeat thudding against his ribcage, loud enough that he wondered if Suguru could hear it too. His cocky grin flickered for a split second as his mind betrayed him, dredging up the memory of the time when this had gone wrong on the phone.

But that was then. This was now. And Suguru wasn’t just anyone.

“Stay calm, Satoru,” he muttered internally, forcing his usual swagger to the forefront. He tilted his head and let his trademark grin spread across his face. “Hey,” he said casually, “you wanna get breakfast or something?” 

Suguru blinked, his surprised expression softening almost instantly. “Breakfast? Yeah, sure. That sounds good.” 

Internally, Satoru let out a sigh of relief, though his nerves still buzzed under the surface. He could do this. Slowly. Carefully. He just needed to ease into it. 

The problem was, Satoru Gojo didn’t do anything carefully or slowly.

Suguru glanced toward the dorm hallway and gestured over his shoulder. “Should I wake the girls? I mean, they’ll probably want in on breakfast, too.” 

Satoru waved a hand dismissively, his grin turning playful again. “Nah, let ‘em rest. They probably need it after last night. Just us guys this time. A little quality bonding, y’know?” 

Suguru raised an eyebrow, but the small, easy smile tugging at his lips showed he wasn’t going to argue. “Alright. Just us, then.” 

Satoru’s chest felt lighter at that, though he kept it hidden behind his usual air of nonchalance. He started walking, his long strides carrying him toward the exit without waiting for Suguru to catch up. 

“C’mon,” he called over his shoulder, “let make those little mini omelet things you like. I bet you're dying for one since it's been a while.” 

Suguru chuckled, shaking his head as he followed. “You make it sound like I’m obsessed with those.” 

"You are,” Satoru shot back, his tone teasing. “I’ve seen you eat, like, five in one sitting.” 

“That’s an exaggeration.” 

“It’s not.” 

Their banter continued as they made their way across the quiet campus, the morning sunlight soft and golden, casting long shadows over the dewy grass. Satoru felt his nerves start to settle as Suguru’s laughter rang out, warm and easy. 

For now, this was enough. Slow, careful, but with Suguru smiling like that, it was worth the restraint.

⤶ Prev Main Next ↪

[we-are-addisons]

I feel like a few people have this headcanon in their noggin already but let's see!

Starting info:

1.) We don't ever actually see Spamton's name on any of his Big Shot Era merch, iirc. We just see his face and that 'ride around town' quote.

2.) We don't know what name Mettaton goes by in Deltarune. We know he's there, but he mostly seems to just mope and refuses to give a straight answer about who's there (The file names in Undertale call the owner of the house next to Napstablook's 'Hapstablook', so that could be his given name in this world as well).

3.) We basically get confirmation from Swatch that they represent a paint tool program and personally helped a Lightner create the NEO body.

So what? Trust me, it's all gonna connect.

Look at all the times Spamton's basically ripped (Undertale) Mettaton off aesthetically. Now look at their names. Mettaton. Spamton.

We can't really crossreference his name with other addisons to see if there's a formula they follow (example: advertising pun + normal name) or if he's an exception (example: normal names that start with 'Ad') because they don't. Have names lol. But we can make an inference from how repetitive it is (Spamton G. Spamton, really?) that it's probably entirely self-made to distinguish himself from them after they all had that weird, awkward falling out with him once he made it big. He needed something that would make him distinct and not sound like a total dork to attach to his brand. So, all the ads and merch he produced before he took on his new name doesn't have his name attached to it. It didn't exist yet/he didn't like the name he had. Where the hell did he get the name Spamton from though, if that's the case? He stole 'ton' from the NEO body once he found it in the basement. Think about it. Mettaton definitely would've put his 'preferred' (correct, but closeted) name on a body euphoria jpeg. Something that looked like this was probably sitting in the recycle bin on one of the computers in the room right before the fountain popped open, causing it to be added to the world's 'lore', full of hope for the future. A signature on a piece of art would've translated somewhere, either as some faint writing on the body itself, or a scratching nearby it, right?

So: Spamton only added the 'ton' suffix after making it big and having the resources to visit the castle basement, because it had a better ring than idk... Just Spam? Spamley? Whatever name he had before he wasn't happy with. It could only make him more popular if he had a less dorky name, right?

[x]ton's got a good ring, and it's part of a Lightner's name so it's gotta be powerful. He really does just keep taking from people to build himself up, huh? But especially ripping off/mimicking (Undertale) Mettaton to an odd degree.

[coldplayaoi]

also do brittany and santana. just cause i’m obsessed with them lmfao :’)

and i love how crazy you go for them :]

Who digs through the toy bin at thrift stores

brittany like the thrifting queen she is 😌

Who gives better hugs

i think both but brittany's hugs are warmer and santana's is tighter

Who does absolutely nothing on a day off

santana ! i don't think brittany is capable of staying still skjdjs

Who prefers gold and who prefers silver

i don't think either of them would have a strong preference? but given the choice i think santana would pick gold

Who looks better in stripes

brittany and i'm picturing her in a cozy striped sweater :]

Who wears “dad hats”

brittany !! i don't think santana likes hats, i mean with hair like hers i wouldn't either tbh

Who excessively quotes shows or movies

santana like the dork she is

Who saves everything because “we could use it for something someday”

it is a universal poc experience to save things it's definitely santana

Who piles on the blankets

i think santana would mention that it's cold and brittany would wrap her in every blanket she could find

Who drowns everything in chocolate

even tho brittany has more of the sweet tooth, santana would go Crazy over a chocolate fountain

[ardentmuse]

Wife her, Winger (Talbott x Reader)

Harry Potter (HPHM) - Talbott Winger x fem!Reader

Summary: When Talbott and Tonks spend extra days in the field tracking some death eaters, Talbott assumes you won’t care much. But seeing just how hard his work has impacted you and heeding some wise words from Tonks may be enough to push your relationship to the next level.

Wordcount: 2.1k

Warnings: fluff, teeny tiny angst, Talbott being thick, talk of death eaters, and wizard battles

Masterlist

A/N: I’m sorry, Charlie. Forgive me for finding a new boyfriend in your absence.

Blasts of embers fly past Talbott’s head as he finds refuge behind a muggle bus stop. Two weeks he and Tonks have spent tracking down the Bhatti siblings after they abandoned their shop in Knockturn Alley. Of course, the instant they make an appearance has to be in the middle of Piccadilly Circus just as all the clubs are letting out their drunken patrons into the rainy streets. Everywhere, chaos.

“Watch your left!” Tonks shouts as she dives behind a trash can, giving Talbott just enough time to pull his head behind the glass of the bus shelter to avoid red flares from the death eater brothers. The tips of his hair burn maroon, the spell just grazing his mane.

Rowdy patrons of the pubs continue down the streets, one even cheering on the “street performers doing sweet magic tricks!” Talbott takes the distraction as an opportunity to readjust his wand in his grip, settling his fingers into the warn grooves of the wood, ready to strike.

Talbott hears a cheer and then feels the force of a person being slammed into the bus shelter. A scream, followed by the pounding of feet, make it clear that the muggles now know these aren’t two performers just looking to make some tips.

“On my count,” Talbott whispers to Tonks, her hair now a fiery red as the panicked cries of pedestrians grow louder. She nods, pressing a hand against the metal of the bin, preparing to launch herself upward and into danger at Talbott’s command.

A second passes, long and excruciating as another curse flies into the crowds of people. Another second extends as the footsteps of the brothers grow louder, splashing upon the pavement. And a third in which a bus comes blasting around the corner, creating a tidal wave of muck over the sidewalk.

“Now!” Talbott yells, jumping upward with a forceful “Stupefy,” just as the Bhatti brothers are doused and blinded by the murky puddle. 

The taller of the two brothers is pushed backwards into the road, stumbling over the curb. Tonks manages to injure the second’s arm. She moves forward to detain him but the bus is about to pull away again. Tonk’s opponent quickly dives under the double decker, cradling his arm as best he can. And by the time Tonks can get to the bus, it drives off and underneath is no trace of a wizard except for a few drops of blood.

Talbott’s combatant, still in the streets, smiles and laughs as Talbott continues his pursuit. He stands taunting in the middle of the street dodging Talbott’s quickly flicked stuns until Talbott is close but then with a quick little wave of his fingers, he disapparates just as a taxi comes a little too close. Talbott is one stride from running into the street but Tonks catches him by the neck of his coat, the cab missing his body by only inches.

Talbott pulls himself from Tonk’s arms and leans once again against the bus shelter, the exhaustion of the past dozen days on the road fully taking their toll.

“We finally find them and we’ve still got nothing,” he says to himself. With a sigh, he throws his head back against the bus shelter with a loud bang. The pain doesn’t register over the frustration.

“Not nothin’.”

Talbott looks up to see Tonk’s hair a pleasant bubblegum once again and in her hands she shakes proudly back and forth a long spindly wand made of yew wood.

For the first time since he had kissed you goodbye all those weeks ago, Talbott smiles.

The sun is coming up just as Tonks and Talbott make their descent into the atrium of the Ministry. Upon seeing his reflection in the glass of the elevator, mud-soaked and completely disheveled, Talbott utters a quiet prestidigitation charm to himself and watchs in satisfaction as he becomes clean again, though the edges of his hair are still burnt.

“Trying to impress someone?” Tonks teases with a little too much eyebrow.

Talbott doesn’t even look at her.

“Y/N won’t be in the office for hours. I just don’t like dirt.”

“Sure,” Tonks inflects, the smile growing larger on her face as she watches Talbott squirm.

After a few moments of silence, Tonks asks, kicking the elevator sides in an act to appear disinterested, “So how long have you two been together now? Seven years?”

“Long enough.”

“And it’s going well? You’re happy?”

Talbott sighs, “Of all the problems in my life, I can assure you Y/N is not one of them.”

Tonks continues on, staring at the ceiling now, “And you think she’s—“

“What are you getting at, Tonks?” Talbott growls at his companion.

Tonks drops her eyes to meet his, meeting the challenge of his intense gaze.

“Wife her, Winger.”

“Excuse me?”

Tonks opens her mouth full, puffing out her cheeks as she emphasizes each word, “Wife. Her.”

Talbott simply huffs and turns away.

“I doubt she’d want that,” he says into the air, loud enough that Tonks could hear it.

“She’s put up with you this long,” Tonks teases but when Talbott’s shoulders stay rigid, she continues in a more soothing voice.

“I was there for your first date, bud. You too dorks are perfect for each other. You put your life on the line every day and you have a woman waiting to see you healthy and home again. You’ve made something beautiful with my girl. Don’t you think this job might be a little more – I don’t know – meaningful, if you knew what you were fighting for?”

“I don’t need to marry the girl to fight for her.”

“True,” Tonks said, realizing her argument wasn’t very sound.

“Besides,” Talbott continued, his cheeks a bit redder for the talk, “She’s not just waiting for me to come back safely. She has her own life. I’m just a blip in it.”

As the elevator doors open into the grand entranceway of the ministry, nearly empty at this time of morning, Tonks and Talbott immediately hear a shrieking coming from the fountain.

“Talbott!” you scream, running the 20 yards and jumping into the arms of your boyfriend. He catches you between his hands, running them down your flanks as you cradle yourself deeper into his neck.

“Merlin, Talbott, I was so, so worried about you,” you breath against his skin.

“I missed you, too,” he agrees, pushing lightly on your shoulders to take in your face. The relief he feels in his heart at having you in his arms once more is immediate. His shoulders loosen, his brain clears of the fog of battle his breath evens, and suddenly everything, every sight and sound and scent, is you.

Talbott presses lightly against your shoulders, pushing you away from his body so he can examine your face. You smile up at him, wetness coating your lips from your tears and the gentle kisses you had been placing upon his collarbone. Your cheeks are streaked with water lines. Your eyes, which were always so bright and brilliant, are dull and the bags underneath them are pronounced from lack of sleep. Your top is slightly wrinkled and your hair needs some attention.

“You haven’t slept,” Talbott says as observation, not question.

You look at the ground for just a moment before meeting his eyes once more.

“Someone in the Department of International Magical Cooperation needs to be here to communicate with Tokyo,” you laugh, but when Talbott raises an eyebrow at you in question, you add, “I couldn’t sleep. I was too worried about you – both of you.”

Tonks nods at the acknowledgement, smiling at you. As you turn your attention back to Talbott, you don’t notice the way your friend nods her head at you and pleads with Talbott with her eyes.

You fall back against Talbott’s chest and whisper to him, “You were supposed to be back two days ago. I heard nothing. You can’t blame me for being worried sick. I’d be lost without you, Talbott.”

As you sink deeper into his arms, he looks down at your head against his shoulder, the curve of your back as you take deep breaths, and the soft nuzzle of your nose as you claim him as yours. And suddenly, just like that, he understands all the lies he’s been telling himself about how casual your relationship is, how little you need each other, and how fine he’d be if you decide you want something else with your life, are just that – lies. He feels the revelation sending chills down his spin.

“Well, I think I’ll be bringing this wand down to Level 2 and see if—“ Tonks cuts herself off, realizing Talbott has no interest in what she’s saying if the way he’s cupping your head with a look of shock in his eyes is any indication. “Yep,” she says as she wanders off down the corridor.

“My girl,” Talbott thinks, his brain finally seeing clearly the precious thing before him – not the woman, you were always precious, but the relationship itself, a level of commitment and shared concern, the intertwining of lives and values and joys that two people could only long to find in one another. “My beautiful bird, my everything. How I’ve longed for you,” he thinks. “My wife,” he tests in his brain, feeling the warmth that spread through his chest at the simple phrase, and especially the permanence of it.

As he thinks the words, your head pops up from his chest to meet his gaze. You rub the tears from your eyes and look at him, pleading.

“Your—your wife?”

Only then does Talbott realize what he did. So often he thinks out loud, so often he sometimes doesn’t even register his lips are moving. His face fills with panic and confusion and, at the sight of it, you completely deflate.

“Oh, okay,” you whisper, pulling yourself out of his arms, “I guess we should get back to work then. I’ll meet you—“

Talbott cuts you off with a bold kiss to the lips. His hands cup your jaw and his fingers brush lightly against your ears. His lips are unyielding in their desire to wipe the doubt from your mind, to show you that while he may not have expected to say the words, he certainly intended their meaning.

His propriety gets the best of him as the chime of the elevator behind alters him to the presence of others. When he pulls away, he doesn’t let go of your face.

“My wife,” he whispers again and lifts his voice to add, “Whenever you want to be. Tomorrow here at the Ministry or ten years from now in the grandest wedding the wizarding community has ever seen, I’ll do it. Just next time I leave for a mission, I want to know you’re here waiting for me.”

You laugh as tears prickle at your eyes.

“I’d be here waiting for you regardless.”

“That’s what I said,” Talbott says to himself. He shakes his head at the revelation of just how perfect you are for him, how much you understand him and just how much can go unspoken. Though at the last thought he feels a tinge of regret. Just because you understand each other so much without words doesn’t mean you don’t deserve to hear them, and often.

“I love you,” Talbott breathes like a prayer against your lips.

“And I you, Mr. Winger.”

At the words, he grabs at your waist tightly, holding you to him.

“But perhaps,” you chide, “You could propose to me more properly? At some point when you haven’t just nearly had your head blown off?” You run your fingers through the edges of his hair, chard bits falling between your knuckles. “I’d like to know you still feel this way after the adrenaline has warn off.”

Talbott meets your eyes and curses himself under his breath when he sees real doubt there. All he can do is nod before taking your hand and kisses the knuckles with the gentlest reverence he can muster.

“I’ll do my best,” he says before taking your hand to lead you back to your office just a few floors below his own. As you curl your fingers around his, gripping tightly as you continue your walk, Talbott’s brain is aflutter with ideas. Should he ask your parents for your hand or is that too old-fashioned? Would he be able take time off, with tensions rising in the war the way they are, for a proper honeymoon? And most importantly, would Tonks want to be his best man or would you snatch her up before he got the chance to ask.

All tags: @fangirlandnerd, @aerdnandreaa, @thisisbullshytt,  @cancerousjojian, @whovianayesha, @themarauderstheoutsidersandpeggy, @luna-xxxxx, @sleepylunarwolf, @starryrevelations, @potter-thinking, @all-by-myself98, @bananafosters-and-books, @cutie-bug

Harry Potter tags: @tessimagines, @0-lost-in-stereo-0, @whysoseriouspadfoot, @eldritchscreech

[fanficsrusz]

Not Yourself - Ted Logan Fluff

A/n: this was requested by the lovely @ringa-starr she has so many awesome ideas and i don't do them justice 😭😭. This is just a short fluffy fic so don't expect too much from it.

Summary: Y/n is best friends with Ted, but will she be able to come clean about her feelings.

_________

Sitting in the canteen, y/n picked at her food as Bill and Ted sat opposite her, talking about random nonsense. 

"Bill, don't you think y/n's been acting kind of off?" 

Ted leaned in closer to Bill as he spoke and the pair both looked up at the girl who sat in front of them. 

"dude, what's wrong with her? She's never quiet or acts sad?" the pair looked at each other before shrugging in unison. 

"hey, dudette." Bill called out but was met with silence. Bill sat back and looked at Ted who just shook his head and reached out to y/n, tapping her on her arm. 

Y/n jumped at the sudden contact, practically falling from her seat. 

"hey what's wrong with you?" the boys watched as y/n shuffled in her seat trying to look anywhere apart from them. "I don't know what you're talking about" she lied. 

Y/n did in fact know what they were talking about. She had been friends with Bill and Ted for a little over a year and it had been an awesome year. Except for when she started to get feelings for Ted. 

He was tall, cute, kind and a complete and utter dork, how could anyone resist him?

At first she could just push the feelings deep down and get on with her day, but recently the feelings had gotten stronger for him and she was finding it difficult to find the courage to talk to him with babbling on like an idiot. 

"well, why are you acting all…. Sad" Ted said as he crossed his arms, his hair slightly falling in front of his eyes. 

"Ted, it's nothing really" y/n stood suddenly, her chair scraping against the floor as she did so "i need to go" grabbing her tray, y/n practically ran out of the canteen, leaving the boys in confusion. 

"dude, I think there's something wrong with y/n" bill said as he watched the doors close behind y/n

"totally dude. But what?" the boys turned to face each other. "maybe she's PMSing?" Ted suggested as he blushed and Bill just laughed. 

"maybe we could take y/n to see a movie? That might make her feel better" Bill suggested and Ted smiled "dude, that might work. She likes to watch movies" 

The boys laughed and did their signature air guitar, a sign that they both agreed to the idea of cheering y/n up. 

~

Walking into the bathroom, y/n walked over to the mirror above the sinks and stared at her reflection. Taking in her appearance, she smiled. She was pretty, funny, smart and there would be no reason why she couldn't ask Ted out. 

"you can do it. Just go ask Ted out" Giving herself a  pep talk she smiled at herself and went to walk out of the bathroom. 

As she reached out for the door handle, the door swung open in her face. Y/n stepped back suddenly 

"oh sorry" she smiled not expecting the motion. as she looked up, her smile faded when her eyes met Clair's. 

Clair was the cheer captain, blonde, skinny, rich and a total bitch. 

Clair and y/n were actually best friends when they were younger but once they entered high school and Clair started getting male attention, y/n was no longer good enough for her. Clair would constantly bully her, worse than anyone else and y/n never understood why. To make matters worse, clair also had a crush on Ted and she liked to let people know but Ted was never interested. 

"well look what we have here. I thought I could hear the little mummers of a rat" clair folded her arms across her chest in an attempt to intimidate y/n. 

"what ever clair, i need to go do something" y/n was on a mission and nothing was going to get in her way. 

Clair smirked as y/n tried to push past her but was stopped. "what? Are you going to ask Ted out?? You weren't exactly quiet in here" she poked y/n's chest causing her to stumble a little. 

"Why would he ever want someone like you when he could have someone like me. I'm prettier, popular and just generally better than you" 

Y/n stepped back and reached down to grab a nearby bin that sat on the floor. "here" y/n handed the bin to clair who just stared at it confused. 

"why are you giving me a bin?" y/n smiled sweetly

"oh. I thought you might want it to catch all that shit that's pouring from your mouth" y/n smiled sarcastically as she shoved the bin into her chest, y/n pushed past clair and walked out of the bathroom with her head held high. Nothing was going to stop her

~

Running down the halls, y/n looked around trying to find Bill and Ted. Stopping at one of the classrooms, y/n sighed as she couldn't find them. 

"y/n" she turned towards the familiar voice that called out to her and smiled. 

"Ted i have to tell you something-" she rushed towards them, a smile spread across her face. 

"wait dudette, we wanted to cheer you up so we thought we could take you to the movies" Bill smiled as he told her his idea.

"Bill that sounds like a good idea but I kinda wanted to ask Ted something" y/n gave an apologetic smile and Bill just shrugged while giving his signature grin "oh no worries y/n". 

Y/n turned to Ted who smiled at her like an idiot. 

"what did you want to tell me?" y/n took in a deep breath and relaxed a little. 

" Ted we have been friends for a while now and i think i lik-" 

" HEY Y/N" y/n was interrupted by someone pulling at her shoulder. Turning around clair stood in front of her with a milkshake in her hand. 

"no one talks to me like that you bitch" clair spat her words at y/n and y/n just laughed. 

"well maybe it's about time someone did" y/n stood up to clair as a crowd began to form around the two girls, waiting for a fight to break out. Ted stepped in between the two whilst Bill pulled y/n back. 

"totally bogus dudettes. We should all be excellent to each other" Bill called out and clair laughed, pushing ted out of the way. 

"ok" clair smiled bitterly "let me apologise to y/n will you ted" 

Stepping closer, clair lifted the beverage she held before dunking it all over y/n. The cold liquid going down her back. 

Clair walked off as the crowd cheered. 

"Y/N" Bill and ted shouted in unison. "are you ok?" Ted asked and y/n just pushed past them as she walked out of the school. 

The crowd began to disburse and bill and ted moved to watch y/n leave. 

"Ted. I think she was going to say she likes you" bill spoke seriously and ted blushed. 

"no way dude" 

"yes way dude. You need to go and find her. '' Ted nodded eagerly and left to go find y/n. 

~

Using the water fountain outside, y/n tried to wash as much of the milkshake out of her hair as she could. Tears streamed down her face and she felt defeated. 

"y/n" someone called her name softly and y/n wanted to cry more. "y/n don't let her get to you" ted spoke softly to her as he rubbed her shoulder as a way to comfort her. 

Y/n slowly turned to face him, her cheeks puffy and eyes red. 

Ted frowned a little at seeing his best friend so upset. He took off his jacket and gave it to her so she wouldn't have to walk around with a giant wet patch on her shirt. 

"y/n, can i ask you something?" he scratched his neck nervously and y/n nodded. 

"do you like me?" 

"of course i like you Ted, you're my best friend" ted laughed "no. Do you…. Do You like me like me?was that what you were going to tell me? ".

Y/n stiffened at his words before she hung her head. 

"Ted forget about it OK. Clair was right, I'm not good enough for you. I can't even defend myself properly." she mumbled to herself and ted grabbed her wrist. 

"well I won't forget about it. Because i like you" y/n stared at him, never before hearing him sound so serious or sure about the words he spoke. 

"Ted ...I-please don't do this to me" her voice cracked and ted's heart broke. 

"I'm not doing anything. Y/n I- I love you. Will you be my princess? " Ted let the words flow from his mouth and feared he might have spoke to soon because y/n stood there without moving . 

"y/n i'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you or to rush anyth-" y/n stopped him with her lips against his, her hands moving to his hair and his to her waist. 

"woah" ted smiled as they pulled apart, the serious expression he held moments ago was now replaced with his normal dopey smile. Y/n blushed as she realised what she had just done. "of course i will be your princess" she spoke quietly and the pair stayed in each other's arms as they laughed. 

"oh no way dude. Did I miss the kiss" Bill called out from behind the pair as he ran over and y/n laughed. Ted turned to him "DUDE WE TOTALLY LOVE EACH OTHER"  he shouted, pulling his arms into an air guitar which bill mimicked.

The end

______

Taglist: @gwenebear @celestiaelisia @blondieee-me

[mychristopherstokes66world]

They are celebrating and laughing at all of the Americans burning to death in the towers and the FBI held these yids for a week until the dust settled and flew them back to Tel Aviv private first class

Ah yes the Israeli "art students" who had unrestricted access to the towers for weeks

It's rael. https://www.markdotzler.com/Mark_Dotzler/WTC_Artists.html

>Nanothermite >fucked up over 1400 cars >didnt burn a single person >paper all over the place you dont understand much about thermite, do you?

911 report and their models were full of BS. The three towers were brought down by controlled demolition. https://youtu.be/sNriYvuNmu8  https://youtu.be/l_Kmyo8KLTM Http://www.ae911truth.org/ TRUMP knew Truth on 911 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gNodh9OlTrQ https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=flnhdhxVR6g https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aoYXihwcp8c https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j-7bxI_XOoQ The destruction of WTC was an occult ritual. >the Twin Towers represented Boaz and Jachin, the columns at the entrance to the Temple of Solomon >Boaz and Jachin represent the two key energies: ying and yang, male and female, strength and beauty, north and south, up and down (duality - like the Star of David) >WTC builder, Rockefeller, says the buildings are the perfect combination of "utility and beauty"; he also owns Jerusalem museum housing remains from Temple of Solomon >Luciferianism predicts/wants a new age of transhumanism; Kaballah and freemasonry believe one attains perfection by mastering and combining male and female energies >Twin Towers destroyed in consciousness altering event at start of millenium to usher in this new era of transhumanism >Replaced by Freedom Tower where both towers are combined, one up and one down, like a Star of David >2001: Space Odyssey is about man's evolution to transhumanism - he touches the black monolith and transcends human form to a space baby >9/11 happened in 2001, next to the Millenium hotel designed to look like the black monolith >madrid bombing was 911 days after 9/11 >sept 11 is the first day of the coptic calendar, first month is named after Thoth >2001 was the start of the new millenium not 2000 (there was no year zero) >33 years from groundbreaking to destruction pentagon groundbreaking sept 11 1941

https://slate.com/culture/2001/12/bin-laden-s-special-complaint-with-the-world-trade-center.html Yamasaki received the World Trade Center commission the year after the Dhahran Airport was completed. Yamasaki described its plaza as “a mecca, a great relief from the narrow streets and sidewalks of the surrounding Wall Street area.” True to his word, Yamasaki replicated the plan of Mecca’s courtyard by creating a vast delineated square, isolated from the city’s bustle by low colonnaded structures and capped by two enormous, perfectly square towers—minarets, really. Yamasaki’s courtyard mimicked Mecca’s assemblage of holy sites—the Qa’ba (a cube) containing the sacred stone, what some believe is the burial site of Hagar and Ishmael, and the holy spring—by including several sculptural features, including a fountain, and he anchored the composition in a radial circular pattern, similar to Mecca’s. Islam was created by Jews. Take your time, explain away this https://www.scribd.com/document/351436519/Muhammad-s-Inspiration-by-Judaism Jews dominated Arabia and carried genocidal hate for Christians https://www.tabletmag.com/jewish-arts-and-culture/books/140366/himyar-yemen-al-qaida Judaism and Islam are so similar that one could say that Islam is Arab Talmudism http://www.danielpipes.org/160/the-jewish-muslim-connection-traditional-ways-of-life Erasing Christianity was a Jewish thing before Islam existed http://www.jpost.com/Local-Israel/In-Jerusalem/Massacre-at-Mamilla? Here's the thing, and I say this as someone who believes that the dancing Israelis were Mossad agents celebrating the success of the 9/11 attack, and at minimum, the Israelis had foreknowledge that could have been used to prevent 9/11 which they didn't share because the attack was so advantageous to Israel's interests, but I lost interest in this guy after he interpreted "our purpose was to document the event" as "our purpose [in coming to America] was to document the event". That's obviously not what they meant. They're there giving their cover story, saying that their purpose in taking the photographs was to document the event, claiming that they happened to see it, decided it was important, and therefore took pictures. You can't be that biased in your interpretation, or you're a liability to your own side of the argument. You want your case to be rationally convincing to a neutral audience, and sow doubts in a hostile audience that nonetheless has some intellectual integrity, you don't want to just preach to the choir.

>actually believes in a theory allowed to be pushed on government TV >still no argument pathetic steven jones and alex jones able to talk about 9/11 (((truth))) on cspan??? https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=h50BgNpcYR8 birth of "muh space beams", who woulda guessed its the same faggot shutting down all discussion of the topic? https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RG3i-Ymm3Uc

Is it just a (((coincidence))) that one group of people have benefited from every US military intervention since 9/11?

I would love for those with the technology to share it with the world to make it a better place, but I'm no level 99 alchemist and acquiring such technology is beyond my means at the moment. If you own a satellite and need help I'd be happy to drop my life and come help you with whatever wizardry it is you're working on. I posted the photos adam green showed so others could see them. No need to be rude, bless your heart

JOIN US  https://www.facebook.com/groups/qanonreports https://twitter.com/CIACLOWN1 https://www.bitchute.com/channel/ciaclown16661/

 well-versed in Urban Moving Systems, years of research. Five years ago, this post would be red hot! Congrats to the YouTuber who obtained them, which Ryan Dawson diligently could not. There were a total of ~75 photos taken by the "Dancing Israelis" confiscated by FBI, so the ones finally released under FOIA are predictably underwhelming. I'm surprised one of the D. Israelis is wearing baggy ripped jeans tbqh. If you're working undercover as a mover, I'd expect slightly more flexible apparel, esp if you're involved in 9/11. The lighter flame celebratory photo is clutch though, glad that was released. Too bad the WTC can't be clearly made out in these grainy photocopies, few normies will pay attention. We already knew, there's no video just pics. My research says that 3 of the movers were low level recon for Israeli intel, but weren't directly involved in planning the attack. Probably cleanup duty, working as sayanim, to transfer people or files post-attack, like a deep bench on a champion sports team. Waterboys of 9/11. Daniel Lewin, imo, remains the head Israeli leader in the 9/11 operation. He was an ex top ranked Sayeret Matkal captain, basically an Israeli Navy SEAL operator w few equals. He was a billionaire computer wizard as well and hardcore rabid Zionut. He was conveniently on Flight 11 seated between two alleged Saudi hijackers. I unironically think he faked his death, gassed the plane, and parachuted out, possibly with undercover Sayeret operatives, as the plane was then remote or automatedly controlled from the ground. >E-Team Just heads up to newfags, the E-Team art students are not Israelis and their full WTC residency was documented and even videotaped. It's on Vimeo, a helicopter ride they took outside the WTC. They're dorks. But obv Israeli art students were doing recon in the months before all over the East Coast. Fingers crossed that one day Dominik Suter, Daniel Lewin, and Dov Zakheim are brought to justice. Keep digging.

>Nothing you posted has anything to do with Jewish dancers why would it? this is ancient news that lead no where back then, and will lead no where now. if you dont know israel had heavy involvement in 9/11 you just have not been paying any attention at all. but to think its just the jews is pretty retarded. bush/cheney are not jews. and papa bush was a major power player. > It's a completely different question what might have been able to vaporize sky scrapers and cause strange patterns of damage to cars. what exactly am i taking away from in this thread by posting this information? these "leaks" are a nothing-burger dead end. its a fucking joke. most people should have seen the interview where they went on tv, tons of people should already know what these clowns look like, what the fuck is the point of releasing this/censoring them so heavily.

>Dancing Israelis https://youtu.be/2XHm56O2NTI https://youtu.be/LbkQddEDPs0 https://youtu.be/fOiCMMMeXE8 >9/11 Trillions: Follow the Money https://youtu.be/n3xgjxJwedA

directed energy weapons/scalar waves/some sort of play on tesla tech. who knows what exactly did it. the fact is, something exists that could achieve what was witnessed. nothing.. i repeat NOTHING explains the big picture of 9/11. this guy produced a lot of similar effects seen on 9/11 whilst mimicking tesla's experiments

>levitation well, there was https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9yU73pN8CHQ >hologram airplanes no one has presented this, why are you reaching so hard? >explosives caused 1400 cars blocks around to become mangled/"melted" yet not burning a single person