#the designs were fab

[hatters-workshop]

Pointedly stares at Philip Pullman for a) not mentioning in an entire trilogy of books that Lord Asriel has black hair, only dropping it in in a prequel that released like 20-something years after the original book was released and b) being so swayed by a movie adaptation that he changed Mrs Coulter's hair from brown to blonde meaning you could have to swap mental images between books if you have different editions and c) (not hair related but still appropriate as it's an important aspect of imagining a person in this world) changing Ma Costa's daemon, first a hawk, then in the same editions a grey wolf like dog, then fucking up the correction back to a hawk and including that the now apparently hawk-daemon licks Pantalaimon... like a dog.

When the author describes a character’s appearance way too late and you have to quickly redesign the image you already have for them in your head:

[malapertmarquess]

We went to see Something Rotten! this evening with my grandma and I am still buzzing from it!

[mak1lol]

Wip but here have a sneak peek of redesign Gord

[moonchild9350]

I'll See You in Your Dreams

Summary: You unknowingly summon an incubus after signing your name in an ancient book. Your dreams will never be the same.

Pairing: Incubus Jeongin x fab reader

Genre: Angst, Smut-18+ MDNI

Word Count: 4.6k

Warnings: nightmares, sleep paralysis, coercion, mention of souls, pussy job, multiple cum shots, nipple play, oral sex (f receiving), masturbation, squirting, unprotected sex (don't), creampie, mention of blood, mention of death

Notes: This one was took a lot of research as I stuck to the true lore of an incubus with some creative liberties of course. I hope you like this next installment!

If you enjoyed please consider a like, comment, and reblog as it keeps me motivated ♡

Please do not copy, translate, modify, use, or repost this work elsewhere without my permission. ©moonchild9350 (2024).

“I wake up with dreams falling from my eyes, and the night sky lingering in my heart, and when the sun forgets to come back for me, I make a home in the dark.” -Sabina Laura

It was a cloudy afternoon, the time of year when the sun hid, the warm rays gone swapped for darkness, the chill in the air enough to make you shiver, pull your sweater closer to your body and do a double take to look in the shadows for things that shouldn’t be.

You and your friend Aerith, decided to take a walk through town, holding cups of coffee from the local cafe in your hands to keep warm. You chattered about this and that, excited for the upcoming season, where your darkest dreams and desires can manifest.

The town was quiet, as most shops were closed, everyone gone home for the day. There was an eerie feel to the town, as darkness slowly closed in and mist began to fall from the sky. You walked and walked and as you got closer to the center of town, Aerith stopped, turning to eye the storefront of a shop.

It was abandoned, dust collecting on the windows, wooden boards plastered across the door to bar anyone from trespassing. The place was once a shop of oddities, selling anything from crystals, to candles, to books on witchcraft. The owners long gone, the shop not doing as well as they wanted in this sleepy town. You missed them being open, as you loved to browse through the shop, your fingers lightly brushing against the wares as you took in the different items.

“Look, there’s a piece of wood missing,” Aerith said, pointing to a gap in the boarded up door. “Let’s go in, see if anything was left behind.”

You considered your friend’s words, wanting to take a peek inside yourself. You’d love to get your hands on some of the items. No one was going to come back and get them.

“Sure, let’s go,” you said, nodding your head as you helped Aerith with the other boards so you could get in.

It didn’t take long, the wood old and on the verge of crumbling at the slightest touch. Dusting your hands off, you both stepped over the threshold into the darkness beyond. The air swirled with dust, the particles dancing around as you made your way further into the shop.

The air was thick and stale, the sound of footsteps of animals who have made their home in the abandoned building could be heard. You looked around, noticing how the displays were tipped over, items lying haphazardly on the counters.

You both looked around, going your separate ways, the only sound heard being your footsteps as your boots touched the rotting floor. You didn’t see anything that caught your eye, insignificant items being the only thing left behind. That is, until you came to the back corner of the shop.

You saw a square item that looked like a book sitting among the dusty shelves. You picked up the book and blew the dust off, so you could read the inscription. You searched, flipping the book over, but found no title. The book was beautiful, or at least it must have been during its prime.

There was an intricate design on the cover, the swirls kissing the edge of the book, giving way to little creatures in each corner. It seemed interesting, so you brought the book to where Aerith was so you could look at it together.

“Check this out,” you said, setting the book down in front of both of you.

“What is it?” Aerith asked, eyeing the book.

“No clue,” you said, “but let’s find out.”

You carefully opened the book to a random page, inscriptions and pictures littering the yellowing paper. You slowly flipped through the pages, reading what seemed to be latin. You stopped at a particular page, the designs catching your eye as well as a picture of a creature with wings.

“What does it say?” Aerith questioned, as she peered at the page, trying to read the words.

“Hmmmm.” You were trying to think back to your latin class that you took long ago, the words a jumbled mess in your brain. However, you were able to successfully translate the passage, a smile on your face in triumph.

It says,

Write your name on the line To enter into your wildest dreams Everything you’ve ever wanted As everything is as it seems

You paused after you finished reading the inscription, curiosity getting the best of you at the meaning of the words.

“So you only write your name on the line and then whatever you dream of should happen?” Aerith asked incredulously.

“Seems like it,” you replied.

“You should write your name down,” Aerith excitedly said. “Let’s see what happens.”

You considered her request. Should you write your name down? Nothing is going to happen anyway, as your dreams actually occurring seems too good to be true.

Thinking ‘fuck it,’ you searched for a pen in your bag. After finding one, you scribbled your name down, the sound of the pen scratching the page echoing throughout the empty shop. Once you were done, you stowed away your pen.

“There, we’ll see if anything happens.”

Aerith nodded her head, a smile on her face at the possibilities.

“Let’s go, it’s getting dark,” you said, noticing the shop was darker, the moonlight filtering in through the door, casting the only light in the shop.

You both made your way out, deciding to head back home, happy at the little adventure you had for the day. You parted ways at your street, saying goodbye, and promises of meeting up again tomorrow lingering in the air.

You walked up the steps to your home, stepping into the warm corridor, your cat Artemis, coming to greet you with a soft meow. You bent down to pet the cat behind the ears before kicking off your shoes and setting your keys down.

Locking your door, you then made your way upstairs to shower, before a cozy night in with your snacks and a good movie. Artemis came to cuddle with you, curling up and falling asleep next to you, his soft purrs warming your heart. It wasn’t long before you felt your eyes get heavy, the exhaustion from the day taking over.

Closing your eyes, you slipped into a deep sleep, letting your dreams take over your mind.

— —

You felt something heavy like an elephant sitting on your chest. The feeling was uncomfortable, causing you to gasp for air. Your eyes snapped open, as you tried to take a deep breath, just to find a creature perched on top of you.

You felt terror deep down as you stared at the thing, your eyes widening as you took in his form. He was well built, with chiseled abs, and a skinny frame. His eyes were as black as obsidian, the whites of his eyes nonexistent. You tried to look away as he stared down at you, not saying a word.

You made to move, but found you couldn’t as you were paralyzed on your back, helplessly staring at the being. He smirked at you, the edge of his lip curling up, revealing sharp teeth underneath.

“Shhh,” the creature said, placing his finger on your lips.

At his touch, you instantly felt warmth throughout your body, a tingling sensation building in your core. You didn’t know why, you couldn’t understand, but you knew you wanted this creature, thing, or whatever it was.

As he trailed his fingers down your face, your neck, your covered breasts, you felt the intensity of your arousal increase, the feeling of the weight on your chest getting worse as your body tried to accommodate the pleasure that you were feeling.

You watched as the man unzipped his pants, pulling out his leaking, hard cock, his tongue darting out to lick his lips. Your eye’s widened, or you thought they did, at the sight of it. You felt drool slowly trickle from the side of your mouth as you eyed his cock, angry and red and a perfect length.

He lifted your sleep shirt up, ripped your panties off, and began dragging his cock through your sopping folds, gathering your slick. You could hear your wetness as he repeated the motion again and again, the tip nudging your clit with each stroke.

The pleasure was blinding, the pressure building up within you, nice a warm with in your belly. You couldn’t move, you couldn’t speak, all you could do was feel as the man fucked your folds. You watched as his eyes dilated even further, as he reached to drag his finger down your lip, pushing the digit inside, and pushing down on your tongue, causing you to let out a noise.

Jeongin couldn’t believe his luck, that such a pretty creature was beneath him, your puffy folds swallowing his cock with each thrust. He watched your face as you attempted to move, not being able to do so since you were paralyzed, allowing him to use your sweet body as he pleased.

He slowly gained more energy, feeling slightly revived after siphoning off your soul, bit by bit. That was the key, to not drain you completely, no, he wanted you to be his new toy. He’s to visit day after day, your soul revitalizing him back to full strength.

Jeongin dragged his eyes down from your face to your sweet pussy. You were dripping, your wetness coating his cock, your folds, your thighs. He watched as his engorged tip kissed your pretty clit again and again, imagining the sweet sounds you’d make if you could.

The thought alone sent shivers down his spine, his orgasm approaching fast. He thrusted his hips faster, the sound of your wet pussy echoing throughout the quiet room, helping glide his cock along.

With another thrust, he came, his cum coating your pelvis, the white liquid catching the hairs adorning your nether region, glistening in the moonlight that shown through your windows.

He watched you closely, focusing on your face as he attempted to read your mind. You were in a state of both agony and ecstasy, the feeling of your orgasm within too overwhelming, but unable to move or say anything.

Jeongin smiled, satiated and full. Sweet girls like you had the best souls, the power spreading throughout him, allowing him to return to his full capacity. He would be back, to visit you in your dreams, to taste your sweet soul once more.

He transformed into his natural form, his tail expanding, his wings sprouting from his back, black as the night. He took flight, gazing at your face once more before taking off, a flash at the speed of light, leaving through your open window.

You laid there on your bed, your senses slowly coming back to you. You felt exhausted, not sure why, your memory of what just occurred gone. You began to flex your arms, your legs, the electrifying, tingling feeling spreading throughout as blood returned to them.

You turned on your side, trying to fall back asleep after what you assumed was a nightmare. It didn’t take long for you to succumb to a dreamless sleep, your body exhausted unbeknownst to you because a part of your soul being gone.

The next morning you awoke to your alarm, the shrill sound piercing the room at an ungodly hour. You reached over to turn off the nuisance, as you felt a yawn coming on.

You felt tired, as if you didn’t even sleep last night. Lying in bed, you stared at the ceiling, wishing you could sleep for another hour or two, or the whole day. Blinking a few times, you decided to get up, as unfortunately you had work today.

You made your way through your daily routine, which normally you could finish in no time at all. However, today you felt sluggish, as if you didn’t have the energy you normally had.

You also felt off, a constant tingle in your lower belly, causing arousal to drop from your core into your panties. You didn’t understand as you were just doing regular activities like brushing your hair, eating breakfast.

Before leaving, you had to change your panties as they were soaked. Finally you were ready, even though you felt exhausted and the tingle was ever present.

Your day went by, filled with people bothering you, asking you about this and that. You were ready to go home, as you felt like you were dragging more than usual during your shift. You tried not to look at the clock, keeping yourself occupied with little tasks you’ve been putting off.

Finally the time came, your boss letting you go home. You grabbed your bag and left before she could find another task for you to do. As you walked home, your phone rang, the tune loud in the otherwise quiet crowd. You accepted the call after seeing it was Aerith.

‘Hey! Wanna watch movies and pig out on snacks tonight?’

Normally you’d be ecstatic to have movie night with your best friend, but you wanted to nap, hoping that you’d feel better afterwards.

‘I’m gonna have to pass. I exhausted and I’m gonna nap.’

‘Really? Ok, we’ll have movie night another night then.’

‘Yes please. Maybe this weekend?’

‘You got it babe.’

You hung up and unlocked your door, as you had arrived at your apartment while you were on the phone. Throwing your bag down, you made your way to the couch, collapsing onto the pillows. You closed your eyes, falling asleep instantly.

You felt something crushing you. The feeling felt familiar, as you had a dream similar the other night, your subconscious reminding you of the experience. Your eyes snapped open, as you tried to grasp for breath, but found you were not able to. You blinked once, twice, to see a man hovering above you.

He seemed familiar, from his black eyes, to his beautiful body that was on display. He smiled at you before touching your thighs, his fingers brushing your skin, watching as it pebbled, the hairs raising one by one. The tingling sensation that you have felt all day intensified, almost becoming unbearable.

You tried to move, wanting to wrap your arms around the man, hold him close, as he did what he wanted with your sweet body. However, all you could was stare at him, hoping that he would give you what you wanted.

Jeongin came back to you. He craved you, just as much as you were most likely craving him. Your soul was so pure, filling him with untainted energy. He hooked his fingers within your waistband, his nails scratching your skin, drawing blood. He didn’t take his eyes from yours as he dragged your leggings down your thighs, your legs, until your lower half was freed.

He parted your legs, pushing them up, giving him a view of your sweet pussy. Your slick was present, gushing out of your hole, coating your thighs and folds. Licking his lips, he lowered his head, needing to taste you.

You couldn’t see him anymore, as the man ducked down, bringing his face towards your pussy. You could feel your arousal dripping like a faucet, increased ten fold at the touch of the man. You wanted to scream, whine out as you felt his fingers part your folds, his tongue darting out to lick a long stripe from your entrance to your clit.

You felt dizzy, the heavy feeling in your chest intensifying to the point of suffocation. The man didn’t slow down, but instead sped up, sucking your pudgy clit between his lips, his tongue darting out against it every now and then.

He licked up your arousal, reveling in the taste of you, somewhere between sweet and tangy. With each lick, suck, nip, he siphoned off more of your soul, his energy increasing.

You could feel tears build up in your eyes, the droplets slowly falling from the corners of your eyes as you felt the tingling become overwhelming, the need to cum imminent. If you could move you would be writhing under the man’s hold, wrapping your legs around his head, holding him close to smother him within your thighs.

The man continued to eat you out, his tongue fucking your little hole, licking up every drop of your arousal, the sounds of his groans filling the room. You were close, the electrifying feeling spreading through your legs, your belly, before it snapped, the pleasure so overwhelming, your body trembled within the man’s hold.

Jeongin slurped up your slick as you squirted into his mouth, making sure not to waste one drop. He was well fed, his energy ten fold, his body savoring your soul but also your sweet cum. He licked his lips, gathering your slick that was present there.

Grinning, he pulled out his erect cock. He stroked the hard appendage, once, twice, three times before cumming, the sticky substance coating your belly, your pussy, painting the canvas of your skin.

Jeongin fixed his clothes before sprouting his wings, disappearing before you could fully wake up.

You watched as the man vanished, before you lot out a loud gasp, your body waking up from the nightmare. You weren’t sure what happened, not being able to once more remember your nightmare.

You felt gross, sweat coating your skin. You decided to take a shower, hoping to get rid of the feeling. Getting up, you noticed you still felt exhausted, more so than before you took your nap. You could barely stand, your legs weak, your eyes barely able to stay open.

You made it to the shower nonetheless, using the aid of walls and counters to hold you up. You were able to shower, the warm water feeling like heaven on your sticky skin. You let out a shaky breath, noticing that the tingling ache was still there, but worse.

You felt turned on, craving for someone to touch you, coaxing orgasm after orgasm from you. With what little energy you had left, you brought your fingers to your pussy, the digits brushing through your folds to relieve the pressure, your orgasm causing you to shake and moan out, louder than you ever have before.

Despite this, the ache was still there, waiting to be tamed. You didn’t know what was going on, your brain muddled, your body weak.

As the days went on, you did not improve.

You were plagued with nightmares night after night, waking up in a sweat, paralyzed in fear. You still couldn’t remember what occurred during these moments, your mind empty when you wake up from them.

The ache between your legs became insatiable, nothing being able to relieve you. You called out of work each day, claiming you were sick and couldn’t get out of bed, which was not a complete lie. You ignored Aerith’s calls, her voicemails and texts showing more worry as the days went on.

Friday finally came around after a miserable week. The wind was howling, the branches of the trees outside your window tap, tap, tapping on the glass. You could hear the rain, the sound typically soothing causing you to be more on edge. You flinched as the thunder rang out, causing the frame of the house to shake.

You were lying in bed, curled up under your blankets, your breath shaky. You couldn’t remember the last time you were able to eat, not having the energy to get out of bed to do so. You probably smelt sour, not able to make it to the bathroom to take a shower. You had made a makeshift bathroom while you still had to energy to do so.

Your eyes were open, the orbs staring at the window, watching the lightening flash through your curtains. You took breath after breath, as your lungs tried to fill with air. You gripped your blankets, your fingers curling around the soft material, bringing you some comfort in your ailment.

You didn’t move when you heard Aerith enter your apartment, making her presence known by shouting your name. Your eyes traveled to her as she stood in front of you, shock plastered on her face.

“What the hell happened to you?” She exclaimed, her hand flying to her mouth.

She has never seen you look so bad. Your eyes sunken in, dark rims surrounding the sockets. You looked ashen and pale, as you took a rattlely breath.

“Aerith…” You whispered, not able to project your voice.

“Let’s get you cleaned up and some food in you, ok? We can talk afterwards.”

You shook your head in agreement, or you thought you did, the action barely noticeable. You watched as your friend moved around your room, tidying up. You could hear the bath running, the scent of your favorite bubble bath filling the room, a welcomed scent to the stale air that you have been inhaling for days.

Aerith took care of you, carefully scrubbing you clean, helping you change into clean clothes. She changed your sheets, putting fresh ones on, while putting the old ones to wash. She helped you back into bed, fluffing the pillows behind you, promising to go make you a warm meal, one that was sure to help you feel better.

You smiled in thanks, hoping the action met your eyes. You were thankful for your friend, as she came to your aid. You sat in bed, bundled under fresh blankets, listening to Aerith bustle around the kitchen, the scent of something tasty drifting through your apartment.

You felt better, clean, more level headed, ready to fill your stomach with food. You still had the ache down below, the feeling never having fully gone away. You tried to ignore it and focus on Aerith, who came into your room with a tray filled with soup.

Setting it down in front of you, you noticed she had made chicken soup, the perfect meal to help you feel better. She watched as you slowly spooned the food into your mouth, bite after bite. You felt warm, the cold feeling slowly dissipating as you filled your belly.

You licked your lips after taking the last bite, setting the spoon down. Despite this, you noticed you still felt exhausted. Aerith took the tray away and then sat down next to you.

“What’s wrong y/n?” She asked, concern in her eyes.

“I’m not sure,” you said, “I started to feel bad beginning last week. Over the last few days I’ve had no energy.”

You paused for a moment, taking a break as speaking even took your breath away.

“I’m just so exhausted Aerith. And I’ve had this ache, it won’t go away.”

You did not mention the nightmares, thinking they were unrelated.

Aerith regarded you for a moment, listening to your words. This seemed more than just an illness, but she wasn’t sure what else it could have been.

You both forgot about your little outing, breaking into the abandoned shop, discovering the book in which you wrote your name. But that did not cross your minds.

“Well rest up ok?” Aerith said, tucking the blankets around you. “I’ll check back in tomorrow.”

You nodded, thanking your friend for her help. You watched as she left your room, listening to the door click signaling her exit. You settled into bed once more, comfortable in the clean linen. You felt your eyes droop, eventually closing once more.

You slept a dreamless sleep, until you felt the heaviness again, signaling you were having a nightmare. Your eyes snapped open, the man above you. You took a breath and noticed you could actually do so, which was different than your other nightmares. You could also move, as you wiggled your toes, your fingers, the digits actually moving at your command.

“Y/n, my darling,” the man’s voice rang out, deep and commanding but yet alluring and sweet like nectar.

“Who are you?” You asked, finally able to ask the question that’s been on your mind for weeks.

“Jeongin, my darling. Now lay back and let me care for your sweet body.”

You relaxed at his touch, the sinews of your muscles releasing one by one allowing you to lay calmly. You eagerly awaited as he rid you of your clothes, your body giving off a glow in the dark room.

You mewled as his fingers brushed over your nipples, down your body until he reached your thighs, continuing until the pad of his thumb placed pressure against your aching clit. You watched as he removed his clothes, in awe of his toned body, his nipples peaked, his chilled abs, his cock that sat against his abdomen, erect and leaking.

Jeongin grasped his cock and brushed it through your folds, coating it in your slick. You awaited with bated breath as he pushed the tip in, your tight walls opening up for his cock. You let out a low moan as he pushed it further, inch by inch within your walls until he reached the hilt.

You were on cloud nine, the ache finally abating as your needs were being taken care of, your walls being split open by his cock. You felt pleasure like you’ve never felt before, as he thrusted into you at a steady pace. Jeongin adjusted his stance, the change allowing the tip to kiss your cervix, causing you to clench around his length.

You reached out, bringing Jeongin close to you, willing him to go deeper within you, your pussy clenching again and again. You were close, this man bringing you closer to your orgasm, your bodies becoming one, as he took you to paradise. With a cry, you came, your arousal leaking out of your pussy, coating Jeongin’s pelvis.

He grinned at your release, knowing that the end was near. He’s glad you were his next victim, the best one yet. He could feel the end of your soul, as what was left was feather thin. He continued to pound into you, groaning as your walls sucked him in, as you creamed around him in your release.

He watched as the light dimmed in your eyes, the orbs becoming more vacant as time went on. You were still breathing, but barely, your chest slowly rising and falling. It was time, to perform the final act, Jeongin feeling his release rear to a head.

With a loud groan he came, coating your walls for the first and last time, the little bit of your soul left drained. He grinned, his fingers brushing your cheek, feeling the chill on your skin. You breathed and then stuttered, your heart beating erratically.

Yes, you were sweet, his most prized victim. He is glad you walked into that shop that one day, found the book and signed away your fate. Jeongin believes your end should be swift, as simple as falling asleep. Yes, he could grant you even that.

Leaning down, he hovered over you, listening to your breaths, as you clung onto life. He pressed his lips onto yours, sealing your fate with a kiss. He felt your body still, your eyes vacant. Your breaths faint, the air barely gracing his face.

He leaned back, admiring his work, memorizing your face, your body one last time before flying away, snuffing out any light that was left in the room.

As you laid in your bed, you stared at the ceiling, your body frozen unable to move. You could barely fill your lungs with air, your heart barely beating. The air became cold around you, like someone left a window open, the cold air chilling your skin.

You rejoiced as the ache was gone, sweet relief after so many days in agony. As a matter of fact, you felt no pain, you felt nothing at all. After a while of gazing at the ceiling, a bright light filled the room, the light warm as if it was the sun itself warming the room. You felt nothing, your body felt light, like it was floating, your mind blank.

As you laid in your bed, you felt at peace, a peace you’ve never felt before, as if everything will be ok. And as you took another shaky breath, your lungs barely expanding, you knew that yes, everything will finally be as it should.

Taglist: @jehhskz @jeonginsleftcheek @simpforleeknaur @armystay89 @palindrome969 @slut4hee @ivydoesit23 @amarecerasus @kaysungshine @fun-fanfics @baby-stay92 @seungfl0wer @velvetmoonlght

[nekohooch]

Otakon was amazing. Finally getting to wear my Azem summoning circle gown in person was so much fun. I had multiple people stopping me to gush over my costume and people from HERE telling me they saw it online and were so excited to see it in person. I haven’t been to a con since right before the pandemic and it was so nice to come back to a space I love so much. My goal of someone knowing what I was without me explaining was reached (thanks to the ffxiv photoshoot)! And I can’t wait to see the pictures of the group photo shoot. I added more details to the costume and (minus the stars which were my nemesis falling off the whole day) everything was perfect.

The gown itself took about 100 hours total. 85 originally and 15 to add finishing touches. The top is gold lamé and the chiffon overlay was ripping so I removed it. I have a whole costume breakdown under the tag for the original dress creation.

The necklace has an Azem summoning stone that my fantastic friends brought me from Fanfest which I repurposed. The most added details are the stars. I felt the black spots between the p design and the beams was a bit too big and wanted something to bridge the gap. I also considered adding my statics job symbols in the circles but they keep changing jobs XD

I added some more filigree details to the main Azem design in the front of the gown and individual rhinestones to each of the right angle v filigree and each of the small mirrored circles that make up the big circles because I’m extra along with a gold ribbon for the hem

Then I decided to add lights

Again because I’m extra

I don’t have skill with LEDs so I used individual 6ft fairy lights with tiny battery packs. I painted each battery pack black because the white shows through the skirt especially when lit up. There are about 75-90 battery packs I lost count at 2 am on Wednesday honestly ahaha. I looped them twice up and down so the effect would be less spaced out but I might edit that in the future if I figure LEDs and how to get more powerful ones because they weren’t really strong enough for 10 hours (you can faintly see them in the pictures above) and I kept turning them off when I sat. I used the same petticoat but added a hoop skirt because I was wearing tennis shoes (sadly sensible instead of fashionable) instead of my platform boots.

When people complimented me I would ask if they wanted to see my favorite part (which is spinning) and the laughs and gasps of delight were fantastic. Overall I’m so fucking proud of this costume. Thank you to all of you fab people from the FFXIV coordination who said such kind things I’m so flattered and lovingly overwhelmed. It was an amazing return to cosplay.

[satorusugurugurl]

The Leisure Streamer is a Hottie (Chapter Two)

Summary: Rumor had it the top donor of the-strongest-streamers chats get to see him naked! Now that you're the top donor will you get to see the goods or was it just a rumor. Time will tell.

Pairing: Streamer!Gojo x FAB!Reader

Warnings: language, suggestiveness, fluff

A/N: Part two of the highly requested LSIH!! This will probably be a four part series, maybe five IDK yet!! 💚💚💚

Part One Part Three Part Four

Voices were muffled as someone gently tapped your cheek. Nausea swirled in your stomach as you felt your eyes and eyebrows twitch as you stirred. “Hey! Come on! Wake up!” Suguru? Your new boss was calling your name.

“She saw Gojo’s face; I would pass out too if I had to see his pasty ass.”

“Fuck you, Sukuna.” Satoru snapped as you slowly opened your eyes. “Hey! Good morning!”

As you turned your head towards Gojo’s voice, you blinked slowly, making out his shape. He was standing at the edge of the couch, grinning as he elevated your legs up. Seeing him like that had your face turning red as you glanced around. Having your favorite streamer elevate your legs was the least embarrassing thing that has happened thus far.

Suguru was crotched next to you, and the whole damn shop's employees circled the couch you were lying down on, watching you.

“Yuuji, go grab her a glass of juice.” Geto stands up as Gojo lowers your feet, resting them on the cushions. “Megumi, Nobara, can you make her a sandwich to go with it?”

“On it, boss!”

The trio heads to the kitchen as Gojo hurries to your side, helping you slowly sit up. “I am so sorry.” You utter out, looking up at the six-three man who smiles, bangs falling in his face.

“Please don't apologize; I'm glad I was there to catch you.” He glanced at his phone, grinning wide. “Sorry, I need to take this call, Satoru—” bright blue eyes leave your face for a second, “make sure she eats and drinks the food; it’ll help with nausea.”

“Yes, sir! Have fun on your date!”

“It's not a date! It's just an employee and her boss going out for lunch!”

“Date!”

Suguru flipped Satoru off as he hurried to the back with the other employees. He was leaving you all alone with your favorite streamer in person. The same person you had masturbated with the night before.

“One sandwich and a glass of juice!” Yuuji grinned, handing you a plate.

“Thanks, Yuuji,” Satoru grinned, waving him off before turning his head to you. “You heard Mama-Geto, eat. Then we could talk.”

At least your favorite streamer allowed you to eat your food before talking to you. If you weren’t sitting on the couch and didn’t have some sugar coursing through your veins, you might have passed out for a second time. You were lucky that you didn’t pass out for a second time. You sat there in silence, eating the delicious sandwich that was provided to you by your new boss.

Once Gojo sees that your plate is spotless, crumbs and all he turns to smile at you. He’s so much cuter in person. Which you thought was impossible, seeing that he looked like a freaking God on his live streams. Especially last night when he was stroking his co—.

“Feel better?” Gojo interrupts your reminiscing of the night prior. The way you jump doesn’t go unnoticed. “Easy there, sweetheart. I’m not gonna bite.” He cocks a pristine white eyebrow at you. “That is unless you asked me to. Then I would be happy to bite you.”

“Oh my gosh.” The way you giggle makes Gojo smile wide. Last night, he was speechless when he first saw your face, not the adorable mochi avatar you designed. You were the most beautiful girl he had ever seen in his entire life. For you to get flustered over him had him swelling with pride.

The stranger you had shared an intimate moment with via WebCam the night before stood up and sat beside you. “Are you feeling okay?” for the first time since you came, there was concern in his eyes.

“I’m fine, I promise. I was just shocked to see you. Who would’ve guessed that we lived in the same town.”

“The world is a small place.”

“It most definitely is.”

Satoru beamed, holding his hand out to you. “Gojo Satoru, it’s nice to meet you!” You smiled wide, grabbing his hand and shaking it, and as your fingers brushed against his, you swear it felt like electricity passed through your fingertips. The sensation was both alarming and comforting at the same time. A strange new sensation that you welcomed.

“So you’re telling me your name isn’t The-strongest-steamer? What a rip-off.”

“Oh! So sorry, mochigurl89! So tell me, do you prefer to go by ‘mochi’ or ‘gurl’?”

“Neither.” In between giggles, you tell him your name; upon hearing it, he gasps dramatically, placing his hand over his heart.

“And here I thought I hit the jackpot! The daughter of some mochi tycoon! I was having dreams about diving into a pool full of mochi.”

“Damn, you must really like mochi.”

Satoru nods his head, “Kikufuku is my favorite! I love the Zunda and cream-flavored ones.” He licked his lips at the mention of his favorite sweet treat.

“Really? I've never tried that kind. Do you know of any cafés that sell it here in Tokyo?”

“It’s a Sendai specialty.”

“Oh, I'll have to try it if I’m ever out there.”

“Hell yeah, are you bus—”

“Gojo!!”

Your favorite streamer stiffened his head, lurching forward as the front door to the coffee shop flung open. Just as he was slowly sinking to the ground, you turned to the source of the voice. A man with blonde hair, neatly brushed, wearing a blue button-down shirt and a cream-colored suit jacket, walked inside. Honey-Brown eyes scanned the area before landing on you.

“Oh, apologies,” The man fixed his yellow and black spotted tie before heading further into the shop, “Geto informed me that Gojo had finally made his way out of his dungeon, but I guess he’s crawled his gremlin ass back down there.”

“Uhhh—”

The man was about to turn and head towards the basement when he heard the floorboards creek under Gojo’s weight as he tried to lay underneath the couch. You weren’t sure how to react or what to do in a situation like this. So you just let it play out, your eyes focused on Gojo’s feeble attempt to hide himself before darting back to the blonde man storming towards the couch.

Satoru’s attempts to hide him under the smallest space of the couch were rendered useless as he saw the stranger's shadow stretch out on the floor below him. With a nervous laugh, he turned to look up at the man who was glaring down at him as the blonde man’s eyebrow twitched.

“N-Nanamin!”

“Do not call me that! What do you think you’re doing? Why have you been ignoring my calls?”

Gojo grumbled before rolling back to try to hide himself underneath the couch. “Because you're gonna lecture me.” Nanamin, which obviously wasn’t his real name from the way he reacted, stepped around the sofa and gently hooked his foot around Satoru’s leg jerking him away from the couch.

“Damn right, I’m going to lecture you! That is my job as your PR manager!”

So, the mysterious man was Gojo’s PR manager. He was typically responsible for handling all sorts of business deals and sponsorships and finding indie games for Gojo to play. You had heard on the Discord servers that his PR manager was amazing. Not only did he make Gojo look amazingly good online, but he also helped pick out games that had blown up because of Gojo. Thus benefiting both the Satoru’s channel and the game designer.

People often praised Gojo for his honest reviews and his support of small creators. It's all because behind every good drama-free streamer was a good PR manager. And from how popular and drama-free Gojo’s channel usually was, the tall man standing before you had much to do with that. You also had heard through the grapevine that being a PR manager was a hassle, and there is no doubt that was true, too, because Gojo’s PR manager looked like he was about ready to commit a federal crime.

“You promised me that you would consider going to San Diego Comic-Con! Mind telling me why I just got an email from the guest board stating that they were sorry that you had declined their offer?!”

“I thought about it and decided I didn’t wanna go. Simple as that, Nanamin!”

“You need to go out there and meet your fans face-to-face. You'll start losing followers if you don’t contribute more to your public appearance.” Satoru pouted like a child, grumbling about Nanamin not being his dad. “You know that I’m right.”

Satoru sat up, groaning as he motioned to himself. “Nanami, what am I supposed to do? Go out on a stage half-naked in my sunglasses?! My followers don’t follow me for the games; as charming as I may be, they follow me because they like watching a half-naked man play leisure games!” The mysterious Nanami released an exasperated groan, rubbing his hands through his hair.

“This is why I keep telling you to do more streams, fully clothed!”

“Again, my followers prefer it when I’m half naked.” Cerulean eyes landed on you as Satoru pushed himself off the ground. “Isn't that right, sweetheart?”

Finally, noticing your presence again, Nanami’s eyes snapped in your direction as Gojo addressed you. For a long second, it looked like he was trying to put together what to say. Before a single syllable could leave his lips, Gojo had his arm draped over his shoulder, pulling him close to his side. The blonde man huffs out a sigh before his shoulders, relaxing the tension leaving his muscles.

“I-I mean, you being half naked is a perk to watching your streams. And I’m just speaking for myself here, but I enjoy watching your reactions and reviews more than looking at your chest.”

Nanami perked up at the bluntness of your words, which left Gojo in shock. “See, perfect example, your fans don’t just see you as eye candy; people watch you because you’re funny, you make your streams enjoyable, and you’re always giving back to the community that has welcomed you so lovingly.” you

For just a second, you thought that maybe Gojo was listening to Nanami, but when he shrugged his shoulders, giving a little ‘eh’ in response, Nanami threw his hands in the air before dropping them to his sides. There was something almost comical, watching them interact with each other; they got under each other's skin. It was quite the dynamic.

“I give up on you; I’m going to put my notice in one of these days because of the headache you constantly leave me with.”

“You would never in a million years, put your never give me your notice.”

“Wanna bet?”

The threat had Satoru sitting up straight, dizzy, cleared his throat, “I’m going to pretend that it didn’t happen, and I’m gonna introduce you to my top donor from last night.” A look of panic plastered over Nanami’s face as he examined you like you were some crazed stalker. “N-No! Look, Suguru needed an artist to help design a new logo for the café! Mochigurl89 just happened to be applying for the job without me knowing.”

“It's true; I am not a stalker.” You held your hand out to Nanami, who took it without hesitation. After introducing yourself, you bowed at the waist. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Nanami Kento, the pleasure is all mine.” His gaze focused back on Satoru. “Now, enough with the distractions, we have work to do. We have to retract the statement you gave to the Comic-Con committee. We must review new trends and games I found for you to play. It’s going to be a hectic day, so I hope you’re ready.”

Being a streamer seemed like a busy job. You were eager to have your meet and greet, but it seemed like Satoru’s day was booked. Since you would be working at the cafe, you could schedule your meet and greet for another day. You pushed yourself off the couch, grabbing your saddlebag off the ground and putting it over your shoulder. Seeing you get up, Gojo’s face fell as he rushed after you, holding your wrist and stopping you in your tracks.

“Wait, please don't go! I owe you a meet and greet!”

“No, it's okay! We can rain check for next time. Nanami seems to have a long day planned for you, and I don’t wanna interrupt that.”

Satoru grumbled, shooting a glare in the direction of his PR manager. For a moment, you could almost hear the wheels turning in his head before his pout transformed into a mischievous smirk. Satoru took several steps before draping his arm over Nanami’s shoulder, pulling him tight against his body. Sensing something was at play, Nanami lowered at his client, eyeing him up and down, waiting to hear whatever excuse came out of his mouth.

“Ya’ know, I thought you said my fans are my biggest priority.”

Nanami pinched the bridge of his nose, exhaling through his mouth. “They are a big part of your career, but you can’t just get away with talking and meeting your fans. There is more to this, and you know that.” You shifted again, eyes darting from the exit back to the two men standing in the middle of the coffee shop. It didn’t feel like a conversation you should be involved in, but Satoru had stopped you from leaving. So it wouldn’t hurt to stick around and see what he had planned.

“Right, yes.” Satoru cleared his throat, eyes darting towards the counter of the shop. “You’re so right, Nanami Kento! What would I do without such a great PR manager? Nanami Kento is the best!!”

You were about to ask why he was yelling his name when you watched Nanami’s pale cheeks flush as he glanced toward the counter. “Nanamin!!” Yuuji and another boy practically threw themselves over the counter, rushing toward the taller man. “Nanamin! Hi!” Yuuji’s eyes glittered and gleamed, and he held his fist up in front of him. “Could you show me some new moves the next time we’re at the dojo together?! I practically mastered the ones you showed me before!” another boy wearing a beanie dug through his backpack, holding out a laminated folder towards the older man.

“Ino, what’s th—”

“A report on some of the newest trends! I also compiled a list of games I think would be great for Gojo’s channel! I could help you!”

The two young men crowded Nanami with a big grin, stars practically twinkling in their eyes. Not once did the PR manager look uncomfortable. In fact, he almost looked like he was happy to have two young men interested in conversing with him. You could’ve stood there all day and listened to their enthusiastic chatter, but Satoru grabbed your wrist and yanked you out of the coffee shop while Nanani was distracted by his two pupils.

Gojo was laughing as he looked over his shoulder at you, pulling you closer to him as he ran faster. “Come on! We got a train to catch!” A train? Why in the world did you both have a train to catch? When he said he owed you a meet and greet, you figured you’d probably do it in the comfort of the coffee shop.

“W-Where are we going!?” you laughed aloud as you followed him down the street towards the train station.

An hour and a half later, you got your answer as Satoru placed a bag in front of you. “Kikufuku! Sendai’s specialty and my absolute favorite sweet treat!” He opened the bag and pulled out a small box, placing it in front of you. “Go on! Try one!” You weren’t sure where Gojo was looking, looking through his dark sunglasses and the black mask covering his face so he wasn’t recognized in public. But as he sat in front of you, motioning to the box, you could feel his stare.

You opened the box without hesitation and pulled out one of the emojis that had brought you to Sendai on your spontaneous day trip because Gojo wanted you to try his favorite mochi. You pulled the rice cake out of its wrapper before biting it. It was chewy and soft; the flavor was sweet but earthy simultaneously, a perfect balance to the sweetness. But the whipped cream in the middle had tilted your head back in near orgasmic pleasure. Satoru wasn’t kidding when he said this was his favorite treat. Because honestly, he might have you hooked on it now.

“Oh my god, it’s so good!”

“Right!” Satoru asked, yanking down his mask and placing it on the table's surface, allowing him to eat one of the mochi balls freely. “I’m telling you, it’s the whipped cream in the middle!”

“M-Mmmhmm! It is!”

You both sat there munching on mochi while sipping on your Boba, which you had insisted on buying despite Gojo’s protests. He had been kind enough to buy you a ticket and bring you to Sendai for mochi because of a spur-of-the-moment decision. Who knew your tiny, cute little avatar would end up being the reason you got to go out with your favorite streamer? This was a dream come true, and if it really was a dream, you didn’t want wake up.

Not even twenty-four hours ago, he was a stranger to you, and now you were sitting across from him at a table at a shopping center. You were laughing and talking like you had known each other for years. You guys had just so much in common. The game shows you watched, to a similar taste and sweets. It felt like the meet and greet/day trip with some of the most fun you had had in years. There seemed to be a spark between you two, and it wasn’t because you had lost composure and had masturbated with each other the night before. There was more to it than that.

“Oh my god, that was so good, it hit the spot! And it will be well worth facing Nanami’s rage later.”

Sipping on your boba, you slowly leaned forward, getting closer to Gojo's face. “Is he gonna be mad about you playing hooky with me?” Satoru snorted out a laugh, toying with his face mask.

“Sweetheart, if anyone were going to get in trouble for playing hooky, it would be me. And honestly, it’s not the first time this has happened, and it definitely will be the last.”

“Oh, so do you take all your meet and greets to Sendai for mochi?”

“No, just the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen. Someone who has stolen my breath away and has been on my mind since we signed off our call last night.” You looked away momentarily with burning cheeks before slowly glancing back toward Satoru. “I’m being serious. I cannot stop thinking about last night.”

Last night was one of the most unforgettable nights of your life. You were used to having okay days or bad days ever since your ex broke up with you. Since then, you have felt stuck in the never-ending cycle of mundane days. You were going to school, working on commissions, and watching your favorite streamers in your free time. Two great back-to-back days felt weird, but you gladly welcomed the change.

“I can't stop thinking about it either.”

“I’m going to be truthfully honest with you. I have never done anything like that in my entire career, let alone my entire life.”

“That makes two of us then.”

“Would it be awkward if I said I wanted this meet and greet to be more like a first date?”

Satoru’s words had you inhaling sharply, mid-suck on your boba. So ungracefully, you choked on the tapioca balls, sending milk tea spurting out of your nose as you coughed roughly. Satoru stared at you for a long minute, cerulean eyes going wide before he clamped his hand over his mouth. While you tried to find a shred of dignity, the white-haired man in front of you shook, his face red.

“Don’t. You. Dare.” You warned as Satoru’s face turned redder. Despite your warning, Satoru threw his head back, roaring with laughter. He smacked his hand against the table while tears flooded his eyes.

Being mad at him for laughing at your pain was hard when he looked so pretty. There was only one other thing for you to do. You laughed with him. With your laughter joining his, Satoru laughed harder, leaning his head forward, white locks hiding his face while you wiped up your mess with a napkin.

“Oh my god, oh fuck! I haven’t laughed that hard in a long time!”

“Yeah? I’m glad my suffering could entertain you.” You teased, winning a wide grin in return.

“I was going to say something inappropriate, but I don’t wanna ruin the moment.”

Already having an idea of what he would say. “First date and I’m choking on balls?” The only sound of laughter is your own. Feeling as though you made it awkward, you give him an apologetic smile, only to see the flushed cheeks and gentle grin Satoru is giving you.

“So it is a date?”

“I-I guess it is, yes.”

“Would you be uncomfortable if we take this back to my place?”

Darting your tongue out you lick the sweet traces of milk tea up. “Ooor~ there’s a love hotel just down the road.” Satoru’s eyes widened as he stood up packing the bag before grabbing your hand.

“Let’s go!” Both of you hurried out of the shopping center, completely unaware that Gojo’s mask was left behind.

LSIAH Tag List (AGE MUST BE IN BIO):

@witchbybirth @zoeyflower @missmuffinr @kalulakunundrum

Forever Tag List:

@darkstarlight82 @pandoness @nealeart @simp-plague @sugurubabe @chilichopsticks

[m4lexxx67]

I did it, I'm done!!! I finished what is probably one the coolest projects I have ever done and it turned out SO COOL, I'm so excited!!! Everyone come look at it cause I made a fucking killjoys shirt collection!!!

Everyone of the Fab Four got their own type of shirt that I think fits them and they're all the same concept (logo on the back, name in the front, most of the design in their color plus some smaller detail in another color that's kind of in their pallet (taken from their ray guns), words associated with the character) but the font and placement of the writing changes and all that and I really love that they obviously belong together but still look so different!

Also fun fact it took fucking FOREVER to paint Ghoul cause it's sooo many lines and painting lines takes so much time cause you can't just carefully draw a sharp edge and then quickly fill in the rest (like for example Jet's logo) because basically everything is edge! And the design for Kobra's name? Such a pain in the ass, there's so many sketches that were all scrapped. Like in total it took me maybe one and a half to two hours to come up with all of the designs, except for Kobra's stupid fucking name, I kept going back to it for literal weeks!! But honestly so worth it, it turned out exactly as I wanted and just all in all feels very Kobra to me

(As for the different shades of blue/green on Jet's and Ghoul's shirts... The shirts have been done for a while and were lying around my room without being folded or anything, so that's just folds and light reflections, the colors are actually very even)

[sh1-n0bu]

I've done it!

I installed Love and Deep Space,

cannot believe the one to win me over was Sylus!

Anyways, was rolling through headcanons about him, one that caught my eye was that he'd buy you custom tailored clothes when nothing picks your fancy when you go shopping,

That let the snowball roll and I had a thought;

What if you were like, a fashiond esigner?

Or at least made your own clothes?

Y'think he'd buy the fabrics?

(apologies gor rambling, I've just beed on a L&DS roll and wanted to get this thought out before my hyperfixation changes again.

Anyways, have a great time!👋)

fabrics????? fab rics???? f a b r i c s?????????????????????

darling, do u think hes some meager underling? fuck fabrics with all due love and respect, hes opening a whole damn DESIGNER SHOP for you just so you can make bank and enjoy your life to the fullest doing the thing you love the most. you need a model honey? hes got your back. sylus is the perfect balance of muscle and lean and hes tall and good looking too so he can be your favorite pretty dress up mannequin anytime. just give him a ring and hes dropping everything and making his way towards your designer/tailor shop so he can stand there looking all pretty, smug and proud. will wear the latest clothes youve tailored up with his chest all puffed up like a proud crow going “see this? this beautiful special tailored outfit? yeah? my darling s/o made it”

[ourflagmeansbts]

Source (Season 1 - October 5th 2023)

hannahgreenecostumes: This time 2 years ago we were wrapping out @ourflagonmax Season 1! We made SO MANY costumes, and with block shooting/last minute casting there wasn't never a down moment because we were always rushing to catch up. It was the hardest show I've worked on, but here is an upbeat throwback reel where everything looks easy and fun! 🐈💔🏴‍☠️

Season 1 Costume Designer who created all these fab looks: Christine Wada

[szanne7000]

🟢Windswept ~ A Witch Cottage🟢Simblreen Gift🟢TS4🟢

Windswept is a Simblreen Gift for all of you! I started this build on October 11th & finished it October 20th when I sent it to Bodaccia for testing. I started working on finding all the links (that I was able to find) Saturday, the 21st. Let me tell you that there are over 900 pieces of cc (and several of their swatches!) in this build… I think I’ve been dreaming about missing texture files, links, Google, & Wayback Machine every night when I finally went to bed, LOL. Bodaccia informed me of some things that needed changing, & I worked on those over Wednesday & Thursday & finished them all on Friday when I sent it back to Bodaccia for “emergency” testing. While she was doing that, I was finishing up the links & taking pictures. I think the only time I’ve worked harder & faster was when I was participating in DOTY. It is now about 4 pm on Saturday, October 28th, & I just need the Tumblr to work…

Happy Simblreen!!! I hope you are pleased with Windswept for a long, long time.

1 Bed/1 Bath

Living, Dining, Kitchen

Workroom & Consult Area

Spell Room

Séance Room

This build came about as a wish from my youngest son, Ben. He wanted a fantastical Witch Cottage to play in, & we both thought that all of you might enjoy it, too. Windswept is based on real-life architectural plans & my imagination. As many of us adults, he has loved The Sims since the beginning. In fact, both my sons (Travis is my oldest) were responsible for getting me into this game. Without my sons’ interest in this game, my love of building, landscaping, & decorating in The Sims would not have happened. Thank you, my Loves, for your push.

The Credits & Links pdf file included with the build contains everything you need to enjoy this build. Go see all of these Amazing Creators in their native habitats!

A Gigantic & Special Thank You to the following Creators who allowed me to include their content as a Gift with this build:

@karzalee -001StudioK @ADVMabra, @aggressivekitty @mel-bennett @psychicpeanutkitty @irinaseverinka @solistair & @theeaax

I want to give a Huge Thank You to all the Creators whose generous TOUs allow inclusion of their content with builds, which for this Simblreen Gift is most of you.

2SIS @alf-si Angel74 Anidup animefemme @pinkbox-anye @arcanewonder @ars-botanica @artrui Asyli @aroundthesims @baufive Bodaccia @budgie2budgie @buildingdiva @chalipo-all4sims @simthingnew - Chicklet Chisami @clarasims4fan @coralitt-sims Daer0n X MDN Daer0n S4D IDBD Elfydrell @ethericall @exzentra FAB @patchouli-sugar flirtyghoul @haruinosato @helen-sims Hel Studio Hel Studio X @sundays-sims @hydrangeachainsaw Ichosim @ilonastuffforsims4 @simverses - Ingeli @jools-simming @kerriganhouse @kitkatssimporium @lady-moriel lavi3enrose @leaf-motif Ledger Atelier-Modern @leosims4cc @lina-cherie Llen @loree-sims4 @loveratsims4 LunaLuciaLuna @luumia @lumenniveus @magnolianfarewell Mammut @mangosims4-blog @mimoto-sims @imminervaa @mio-sims @msteaqueen @mxims Nelfeah neriney-moxXxes, @nynaevedesign Ohmysims @oldbox1310 OrangeMittens @omorfi-mera @serenebluesims @cross-design @rumorukaraizon @sanoysims @saudade-sims4 sg5150 @simdertalia @sims4luxury @simspirationbuilds X Hel Studio Sn4 Snowhaze @sooky88 @syboubou Tekinkah thealienships-Willow Gardens @thejim07 @therran91 @tilly-tiger @tkangie @wykkyd-sims @xelennsimblr @yumesims & @yumia-x

The few creators whose content you need to get can break between patches; they all deserve an Enormous Thank You for everything they do.

@dorocash @momo-cc aka MountainSplitter @natdreamsims @simcredibledesigns & thepancake1 and @mizoreyukii

I also want to give a Massive Thank You to the Modders/Creators whose contributions make my game easy to finagle & look gorgeous: You do impossibly great work!

20thCPlumbob @bakiegaming crosire @k-hippie @lotharihoe @pictureamoebae @ravasheencc @simp4sims TwelthDoctor1, @twistedmexi @yakfarm & @zerbu

Lastly, I need to thank my Bestie, @bodaccia48. She’s absolutely the Bestest Bestie there has ever been. Even though she’s been under the weather this week, she fully play-tested this build to ensure that you & your simmies can enjoy it without issue. She even dragged herself out of bed right before I did a final save of the lot to run an emergency check to make certain some necessary fixes actually worked. Seriously, they don’t come better than you, Bestie!

🟢Download🟢

MEGA

MediaFire

YouTube Presentation

[your-friendly-neighbourh00d-fag]

fab four headcanons lets go!

ghoul has a shit ton of scars. i mean, they all do, but ghoul has the most.

transfem jet star 🤝 transmasc kobra kid

party is the designated chef. they’re really good at cooking with like. feeling. you know? like how much salt? dc. just chuck some in. which therefore means:

kobra is a really really bad chef, because it’s not an exact science!!!! what is he supposed to do!!!

speaking of kobra! autism!!!!!!!! AUTISM!!!!!!

none of them are NT but. kobra is SOOOOsuperdupermega autism. if you even care.

ghoul loves those cringy ass shirts and stuff with sayings. like live laugh love. sunshine on the mind. he has a kiss the cook apron for when he makes bombs. you decide whether its ironic or not.

ghoul is also hard of hearing because i said so

the four have one big huge shared wardrobe that they all use, if stuff fits. like jet has a cool t-shirt that party steals, puts a funky belt on and wears as a dress. leather jackets and stuff are all communal. party and ghoul share the most, cause they're the closest in size.

kobra loves those silent cartoons, like tom and jerry, looney tunes, all that stuff, and he watches them with the girl all the time

while girlie's here, all of the four carry her differently. she sits on party's shoulders, jet puts her on their hip, kobra does piggybacks and ghoul will either scoop her up bridal style or firemans lift.

funkobra are in love by the way and they're t4t and autism4autism

this is random and not really in universe but kobra kid would LOVE rhythm games. like project sekai and bandori and stuff like that.

ghoul bites

^ that was going to be ghoul bites the skin around his nails but also. no he just bites.

he also has heterochromia

jet is the assigned medic of the gang and she's also the sharpshooter

speaking of which, jet star did kobra's top surgery

ghoul and kobra got drunk married one time and then didn't bother to fix it so they were married before they actually dated

ghoul has like. three shirts. and one pair of pants. that he never washes. and the other three hate it SO much. they're all begging him to get new clothes or at the very least fix the holes in the ones he has but he doesn't budge

ghoul sings the girl lullabyes

party can sew really well and makes clothes and stuff

jet loves dangly earrings and big clunky grandma bracelets, she has a whole jewellery box that party made for her and it's dark blue with light blue stars stuck onto it

anyway 👍 im normal about them

[rhysdarbinizedarby]

This time 2 years ago we were wrapping out @ourflagonmax Season 1! We made SO MANY costumes, and with block shooting/last minute casting there wasn't never a down moment because we were always rushing to catch up. It was the hardest show I've worked on, but here is an upbeat throwback reel where everything looks easy and fun! 🐈💔🏴‍☠️

Season 1 Costume Designer who created all these fab looks: Christine Wada

Source: hannahgreenecostumes on instagram (Hannah Greene)

[forest-falcon]

The Butterfly Effect

Chpr 12

⚠️ Trigger Warning for angst

👨‍🏫💙🩵❤️🩷

"Oh m-my!"

"S-SCOTT!"

Brains sprinted from Two's runway towards the wreckage of One.

His gut twisted slightly to see the rocket in such a state. Not so much for the work it would take to rebuild her; it was more that the rockets were a part of International Rescue. Without them, countless families around the world would have suffered immeasurable loss; the planet owed a lot to these machines.

He shoved the thought to the back of his mind.

Metal can always be replaced, lives cannot.

His mother had instilled that mantra in him when he pranged the family car shortly after passing his driving test. Hiram hadn't been one for operating machines much after that, but he was still fascinated by the science behind them - especially rockets. To him, they were art - mathematical calculations brought to life.

Vessels of potential.

His mind hadn't calculated how he would get to Scott in order to help him. This crash was somewhat more than the broken headlight he'd caused the Mini Cooper to have. But Scott was family.

And for family, he would do whatever it took; even at the cost of his own life.

"S-SCOTT!"

"It's okay Brains - I've got him!"

Kayo leaned out from the cockpit.

"I have him on a board. As soon as we get a second jetpack up here, we can evac."

"FAb-B"

"As far as I know, the others are still inside."

"I will try to c-calculate the s-safest route."

"Eurrrrggh. Tell them to 'urry up. Board's-urting m'back." Scott's voice rasped from behind Kayo.

"They're not really designed for comfort."

"Y'tellin' me.'

"KAYO?"

A distant voice called out from somewhere within the villa."

"Is t-that A-Alan?"

"ALAN?"

"YEAH!"

Oh thank God, he's alive.

"YOU OKAY?"

"M'HOLDIN ON. UNINJURED...BUT COULD REALLY DO WITH A HAND."

"Hear that Scott? Alan's okay. John's down from orbit. Penelope and the rest of Phoenix are on their way. It's all gonna be okay!" Kayo wasn't sure who her words were intended for more.

"HANG ON ALAN, HELP'S COMING!"

"LOVIN' THE CHOICE OF WORDS KAY."

*. *. *.

The sun bounced from a familiar smudge of pink, drawing Brain's eyes skywards.

"F-FAB W-ONE!"

[thesandsofelsweyr]

THE SUS BOY NEXT DOOR

《 PART 1/3 // READ ON AO3 // TAG 》

After coming back from a terrible blind date your asshole neighbor is the last person you want to see right now. He doesn’t have his signature scowl for you tonight, however. Tonight he seems terrified.

《WORDS》 2,809 《CHAPTERS》 1 2 3

《PAIRING》 Arkhamverse Jason Todd x Female Reader

《TROPES》 Hurt/Comfort, First Meetings, Neighbors, Pre-Relationship

《WARNINGS》 Aftermath of Torture/Violence (canon typical), Panic Attacks, Scars, Blood and Injury, Swearing

《NOTES》

This takes place immediately after Jason leaves his failed Batman confrontation and run-in with the Joker from Arkham Knight: Genesis Part 6.

Reader is a true crime addict who enjoys red wine 🍷

This is my first attempt at a reader-insert fic 🙃

Yes this is a repost. My blog is still new so Tumblr didn't allow my original post to appear in the tags. (Shout out to the 10 of you who still managed to find & like the original 🥰)

《 ALSO ON AO3 》 (comments & kudos there are very much appreciated!)

You climb the last flight of steps up to the fourth floor of your apartment building, stomping each stair into submission as you go. You’re still fuming from the blind date you just escaped. That is the absolute last time you ever let Erin set you up with one of her stock broker bro coworkers. You don’t care how hot or rich they are; you are done. Done, done, stick a fork in you. You love your bestie but by God does the woman have terrible taste in men or what.

Both of the pricks she handpicked for you were narcissistic know-it-alls with egos the size of Texas; a pair of swine in designer suits (who, to Erin’s credit, were smoking hot but that’s beside the point.) Once the pig from tonight decided that you weren’t trophy wife material he became far more interested in his phone than he was in you. And the last pig coddled you like you were a delicate, empty-headed damsel in distress who was lucky to be granted the honor of his company and conversation. You should’ve learned your lesson after that first failed date with Dalton Rockefeller-Vanderbilt (or whatever old money asshole last name he had) but you’ve been feeling lonely lately, especially after Ash introduced you to the fab guy she’s dating (an accountant with a perfectly plebeian name of Abe).

You glare down the hallway as you ascend enough to peek over the top of the stairs. Oh great, you think sourly, pursing your lips, your face hardening into a study in once I step inside that door I’m downing a shot of whiskey before turning up an overflowing glass of wine. You stare molten daggers at the tall, brawny guy in your sights. It’s the hot asshole who lives beside you; the last person you want to see tonight. He’s standing, hunched as ever, in front of his door, key poised for the deadbolt, wearing that same teal baseball cap and red hoodie that he never seems to take off. Your jaw tightens. You’ve tried to be nice to the brute—flashing him a smile, saying hello—but all you’ve ever gotten in return was a scowl, if he deigned to acknowledge you at all. Well, you’re fresh out of smiles tonight, jerk.

A flutter of unease tickles your tummy as you step onto the landing, into the narrow hallway with him, your back turned to the only exit, a six foot tall sus man between you and your apartment. You stand up straighter, squaring your shoulders, trying to make yourself look and feel taller. It’s late, and your building is eerily quiet while the city is abuzz with incessant sirens. The usual ensemble of notorious nutjobs are fighting yet another battle in their never-ending war with their rival nutjob who dresses up like a Bat.

Nutjobs like this guy…

You reach into your handbag and grab your keys in your fist, sliding the sharp ends between your fingers, ready to stab at some eyeballs. (You regrettably didn’t have room for your taser or mace in this bag so you have to improvise.) It’s your own fault that you suspect the guy’s a sociopath lying in wait to jump you. You made up a serial killer backstory for him—the result of one too many true crime podcast binges—despite not even knowing the guy’s name. You can’t help it. He gives off serious Ted Bundy vibes. Well, maybe that’s unfair to Ted. Ted would’ve at least smiled at you before bludgeoning you with a crowbar. This guy though…

This guy doesn’t have a scowl for you tonight. Actually, he seems startled by your sudden appearance in the hallway, dropping his keyring to the floor with a clatter that shatters the uneasy silence, causing you to jump. He ducks his red-hooded head between his hunched shoulders as you pass by, warily eying him, ready to stab those icy blue eyeballs of his if he tries anything.

You arrive at your door and take out your keyring, sighing with likely unnecessary relief as you slide the key into the lock. The guy’s probably a harmless weirdo incel who never learned how to talk to a woman. You steal one last peek over your shoulder at him, and watch as he stabs at his deadbolt with his key, hitting everywhere but the keyhole because, you realize with surprise, his hand is shaking too much to hit the target. This dude’s a disaster, you say to yourself as you turn the key in your own deadbolt. Then, as he misses the keyhole yet again, you hear yourself ask, “Do you need help?” in an annoyed tone. You didn’t mean to sound so bitchy but whatever. He shouldn’t be such a bitch to you.

He seems to jump at the sound of your voice, and his keyring clatters to the scuffed wood floor again. You stare back at him incredulously. Is he wasted or something? You wonder as that unsettling feeling creeps back in, prickling the hairs on the back of your neck. Your grip tightens around your doorknob as your pulse picks up speed.

“I’m fine,” he mumbles in response without sparing a glance in your direction.

“You don’t look fine,” you grumble back at him, the flames of irritation rekindled by his rudeness. Why should you care if the jerk’s too drunk or stoned to get in his apartment. Let his rude ass sleep on his doorstep. You shove open your door and take a stomped step across the threshold—you really need that glass of wine. Out of the corner of your eye you see him bend down to pick up his keys, then hear him groan like he’s in pain. You poke your head back around the doorframe, curious, and notice he’s doubled over now, clutching at his heaving chest, breathing hard and fast like he just ran a 5k or—your heart leaps inside your own chest—like he’s having a fucking heart attack. You watch, mouth agape, brows furrowed, as he sinks to his knees, a handful of red fabric still clenched in his trembling fist, then falls forward onto his free hand while he struggles to get control of his labored breathing. Crumpled on the floor like this, fighting for a breath, makes him seem so small, vulnerable, and not the least bit threatening; more like a boy who needs your help and less like an NFL quarterback who murders women on the side for fun.

Just go into your apartment, pour that extra large glass of merlot you’ve been fantasizing about since John Preston Anderson III introduced himself with his full name. Curl up on the sofa with In Cold Blood or a horde of shirtless, oiled, bronzed, and heartily-muscled Dothraki in your Game of Thrones rewatch. Who cares if the hot asshole serial killer next door has a heart attack? But you care apparently because you rush over to him instead, ignoring The Stranger Beside Me audiobook narrator inside your head warning you that this is a textbook Ted Bundy ploy, you idiot. You bend to help him, to lay a comforting hand on his shoulder, and when your fingertips brush against him his entire body jerks away from you, like you zapped him with your taser. He throws up an arm to warn you off. “Don’t,” he snaps breathlessly before gulping down a lungful of air, then rasps: “Please don’t touch me.”

You bristle at his harsh rebuff but keep your temper in check since the guy’s clearly in crisis mode. “Should I call an ambulance? You look like you’re having a heart attack.”

“It’s… it’s not a heart attack… it just… feels like one.” He bites off each word, every breath precious. The fingers of his free hand dig into the hardwood floor.

“At least let me unlock your door for you,” you suggest shortly, biting your tongue before you can add: since you weren’t able to manage that yourself, then feeling guilty for even thinking that. What had the poor guy done to you tonight except happen to be standing in your shared hallway after some other asshole pissed you off?

He gives you a small, grudging nod so you retrieve his fallen keyring, wondering why a man needs so many damn keys. “The bronze one,” he grunts, as if he read your mind.

You unlock his door with the bronze key then push the door open while he drags himself to his feet behind you, huffing and groaning. The dimly lit apartment that greets you is sterile, spartan; that doesn’t help the serial killer vibes at all. One of the furnished units, you presume, since the furniture looks like it was plucked from the lobby of your building. The walls are white and bare; no art or posters or photos of him scowling beside a lover. And the place is spotless—you’d assume it was vacant if you didn’t know otherwise. A vision suddenly fills your mind, a vision of him on his knees, bright yellow dishwashing gloves pulled halfway up his muscular arms, an uncapped bottle of industrial bleach at his side as he scrubs at a puddle of blood while the lifeless corpse of the last girl who wandered in here lies wrapped up in blood-stained plastic behind him. Oh God, you even smell the bleach. But then you notice the stacks of paperback books here and there, the open sketch pad on the sofa with pencil-scribbled notes and drawings, some charging AirPods beside an iPad, another red hoodie—one that zips up the front—hanging from the back of a dining room chair, a gym bag, and atop the kitchen island, a rather happy-looking houseplant which, you have to admit, is kinda cute.

Before you can take in the rest of his place he staggers past you, bumping into your shoulder with a bruising force that knocks you sideways and nearly off your feet. Then with one last little wheeze, he topples over like an uprooted oak tree in a windstorm, smacking face first into the hardwood with a meaty thud that rattles the floor beneath you.

“Oh my God!” You squeal, covering your mouth with both hands. 

A shot of adrenaline pumps through your veins, spurring you into action. You snatch your phone from your bag with rubber fingers, nearly flinging it aside in your panic, and frantically dial 9-1-1, forgetting all about the emergency shortcuts created for just such an occasion. Your stomach dips at the sight of the bulky body lying prone at your feet, still and silent as the grave. As the phone rings—the long-familiar trilling sound now seemingly drawn out as if it will stretch into eternity—you kneel beside him to check his pulse and see if he’s still breathing, praying he isn’t a corpse, when you spot something that knocks the breath from your lungs and stops your heart dead in its tracks. With a cold, trembling hand you push up the tail of his hoodie…

“9-1-1, what’s your emergency?” The operator asks by rote, voice booming through your phone’s speaker, but you barely hear it over the alarm bells clanging inside your head. You’re gaping at the gun tucked into the waistband of his pants, unable to form any sort of response around your heart lodged in your throat.

“Hello?” the operator asks irritably.

“Hi, uh,” you start with a squeak, eyes still fixed on the textured grip of that deadly weapon, but then smack your lips shut. What are the cops gonna think when they see that gun? And what if he’s wanted for a crime or something and you get him arrested? He said it wasn’t a heart attack, acted like this had happened to him before. You can always call back if he’s actually dead or dying…

Why the hell does it matter if he gets arrested?? Your brain shouts back at you. Why are you even here in the first place when there’s an unopened bottle of merlot waiting for you in the safety of your apartment only a few footsteps away, where there’s not an unresponsive armed man who’s built like a tank, who doesn’t even need the gun when he could snap your tiny neck with those massive hands of his? Could the universe give you any clearer signals that “you in danger, girl”? Have you learned absolutely nothing from hours upon hours of Karen and Georgia? “Stay sexy and don’t get murdered”—this guy isn’t even nice to you! Don’t you dare hang up that phone…

“Um, I’m so sorry. I thought my neighbor was having a heart attack but-but he’s fine actually. False alarm. Sorry to bother you!” Your words tumble out in a rush then you smash the “End Call” button before you can get questioned further or chewed out for wasting their time. In the back of your mind you hear the recording of this 9-1-1 call replaying on the My Favorite Murder episode starring you, before the hostess pair warns their listeners not to make the same foolish mistake you just made.

You sit back on your heels, clammy hands kneading your knees while that chunk of baleful metal glares back at you from his waistband, like a coiled rattlesnake peeking out from beneath a rock. Your mind is racing as fast as your heart through scenarios that all end with you getting shot. Then your hands are moving with minds of their own, fingers curling around the textured grip, getting your dainty fingerprints all over the murder weapon as you slip it free. It’s heavier than you expected, you note as you grip it tighter, careful not to get your finger anywhere near that trigger. Heavy, but not heavy enough for something that can end a life in an instant. The thought makes you shudder. You place the gun on the floor then give it a shove, eager to be rid of it, praying that the damn thing won’t go off automatically as it slides across the hardwood floor out of reach. You’ve never touched a gun before this moment and have zero interest in shooting yourself in the face.

Now your attention shifts back to the poor guy who's still out cold. You lay your hand on his back and feel its steady rise and fall. Still breathing, thank God. Then with a grunt of effort and a mighty heave you manage to flip him over on his back. Immediately your hand shoots back to cover your mouth and you suck in a horrified breath as his pale face, previously hidden beneath the shadow of his hat and hood, becomes visible in the lamplight. 

You were expecting the weals on his chin and forehead, the blood trickling from the corner of his mouth, his bottom lip swelling from where it busted when he fell flat on his face. What you weren’t expecting to find was dried blood smeared across his cheek up to his ear, or the J-shaped scar beneath his eye that you’d noticed before (it’s unfortunately hard to miss, despite his best efforts to hide it) weeping beads of fresh blood from where someone traced over it with a knife you assume, carving deep into his skin. But it wasn’t the sight of the blood or the crimson J that pulled the gasp from your throat and made your stomach nosedive like you were on a rollercoaster. Nope, that was your reaction to the angry red furrows encircling his throat around his Adam's apple, deep indentations where someone wrapped rope or wire or cable around his neck so tight that it embedded in his skin; ligature marks from where someone fucking strangled him.

You grab your phone then pause, biting at your lip. Maybe you should call 9-1-1 again. What if his windpipe is crushed? What if that’s why he was breathing so hard, why he fainted? Those marks are so deep… he could be seriously injured. But if he was seriously injured, why had he returned to his apartment instead of going to the ER? It seems like he made the choice for you.

You open your phone’s browser and type: how to treat strangulation injuries, then quickly skim over the top result. Ice. That seems simple enough, you tell yourself, noting that you can clean his J cuts with soap and water, at least until he wakes up. And if he doesn’t wake up soon? Well, then you’ll call the cops. After all, he’s probably a law abiding citizen who’s licensed to carry that gun; a guy that you just pinned as another one of the nutjobs because you always get paranoid about every stranger you see after your true crime binges. In your defense, this is Gotham-fucking-City and you’re a young single lady who lives alone. You’d be a fool not to be paranoid.

[andmaybegayer]

What are some of the coolest computer chips ever, in your opinion?

Hmm. There are a lot of chips, and a lot of different things you could call a Computer Chip. Here's a few that come to mind as "interesting" or "important", or, if I can figure out what that means, "cool".

If your favourite chip is not on here honestly it probably deserves to be and I either forgot or I classified it more under "general IC's" instead of "computer chips" (e.g. 555, LM, 4000, 7000 series chips, those last three each capable of filling a book on their own). The 6502 is not here because I do not know much about the 6502, I was neither an Apple nor a BBC Micro type of kid. I am also not 70 years old so as much as I love the DEC Alphas, I have never so much as breathed on one.

Disclaimer for writing this mostly out of my head and/or ass at one in the morning, do not use any of this as a source in an argument without checking.

Intel 3101

So I mean, obvious shout, the Intel 3101, a 64-bit chip from 1969, and Intel's first ever product. You may look at that, and go, "wow, 64-bit computing in 1969? That's really early" and I will laugh heartily and say no, that's not 64-bit computing, that is 64 bits of SRAM memory.

This one is cool because it's cute. Look at that. This thing was completely hand-designed by engineers drawing the shapes of transistor gates on sheets of overhead transparency and exposing pieces of crudely spun silicon to light in a """"cleanroom"""" that would cause most modern fab equipment to swoon like a delicate Victorian lady. Semiconductor manufacturing was maturing at this point but a fab still had more in common with a darkroom for film development than with the mega expensive building sized machines we use today.

As that link above notes, these things were really rough and tumble, and designs were being updated on the scale of weeks as Intel learned, well, how to make chips at an industrial scale. They weren't the first company to do this, in the 60's you could run a chip fab out of a sufficiently well sealed garage, but they were busy building the background that would lead to the next sixty years.

Lisp Chips

This is a family of utterly bullshit prototype processors that failed to be born in the whirlwind days of AI research in the 70's and 80's.

Lisps, a very old but exceedingly clever family of functional programming languages, were the language of choice for AI research at the time. Lisp compilers and interpreters had all sorts of tricks for compiling Lisp down to instructions, and also the hardware was frequently being built by the AI researchers themselves with explicit aims to run Lisp better.

The illogical conclusion of this was attempts to implement Lisp right in silicon, no translation layer.

Yeah, that is Sussman himself on this paper.

These never left labs, there have since been dozens of abortive attempts to make Lisp Chips happen because the idea is so extremely attractive to a certain kind of programmer, the most recent big one being a pile of weird designd aimed to run OpenGenera. I bet you there are no less than four members of r/lisp who have bought an Icestick FPGA in the past year with the explicit goal of writing their own Lisp Chip. It will fail, because this is a terrible idea, but damn if it isn't cool.

There were many more chips that bridged this gap, stuff designed by or for Symbolics (like the Ivory series of chips or the 3600) to go into their Lisp machines that exploited the up and coming fields of microcode optimization to improve Lisp performance, but sadly there are no known working true Lisp Chips in the wild.

Zilog Z80

Perhaps the most important chip that ever just kinda hung out. The Z80 was almost, almost the basis of The Future. The Z80 is bizzare. It is a software compatible clone of the Intel 8080, which is to say that it has the same instructions implemented in a completely different way.

This is, a strange choice, but it was the right one somehow because through the 80's and 90's practically every single piece of technology made in Japan contained at least one, maybe two Z80's even if there was no readily apparent reason why it should have one (or two). I will defer to Cathode Ray Dude here: What follows is a joke, but only barely

The Z80 is the basis of the MSX, the IBM PC of Japan, which was produced through a system of hardware and software licensing to third party manufacturers by Microsoft of Japan which was exactly as confusing as it sounds. The result is that the Z80, originally intended for embedded applications, ended up forming the basis of an entire alternate branch of the PC family tree.

It is important to note that the Z80 is boring. It is a normal-ass chip but it just so happens that it ended up being the focal point of like a dozen different industries all looking for a cheap, easy to program chip they could shove into Appliances.

Effectively everything that happened to the Intel 8080 happened to the Z80 and then some. Black market clones, reverse engineered Soviet compatibles, licensed second party manufacturers, hundreds of semi-compatible bastard half-sisters made by anyone with a fab, used in everything from toys to industrial machinery, still persisting to this day as an embedded processor that is probably powering something near you quietly and without much fuss. If you have one of those old TI-86 calculators, that's a Z80. Oh also a horrible hybrid Z80/8080 from Sharp powered the original Game Boy.

I was going to try and find a picture of a Z80 by just searching for it and look at this mess! There's so many of these things.

I mean the C/PM computers. The ZX Spectrum, I almost forgot that one! I can keep making this list go! So many bits of the Tech Explosion of the 80's and 90's are powered by the Z80. I was not joking when I said that you sometimes found more than one Z80 in a single computer because you might use one Z80 to run the computer and another Z80 to run a specialty peripheral like a video toaster or music synthesizer. Everyone imaginable has had their hand on the Z80 ball at some point in time or another. Z80 based devices probably launched several dozen hardware companies that persist to this day and I have no idea which ones because there were so goddamn many.

The Z80 eventually got super efficient due to process shrinks so it turns up in weird laptops and handhelds! Zilog and the Z80 persist to this day like some kind of crocodile beast, you can go to RS components and buy a brand new piece of Z80 silicon clocked at 20MHz. There's probably a couple in a car somewhere near you.

Pentium (P6 microarchitecture)

Yeah I am going to bring up the Hackers chip. The Pentium P6 series is currently remembered for being the chip that Acidburn geeks out over in Hackers (1995) instead of making out with her boyfriend, but it is actually noteworthy IMO for being one of the first mainstream chips to start pulling serious tricks on the system running it.

The P6 microarchitecture comes out swinging with like four or five tricks to get around the numerous problems with x86 and deploys them all at once. It has superscalar pipelining, it has a RISC microcode, it has branch prediction, it has a bunch of zany mathematical optimizations, none of these are new per se but this is the first time you're really seeing them all at once on a chip that was going into PC's.

Without these improvements it's possible Intel would have been beaten out by one of its competitors, maybe Power or SPARC or whatever you call the thing that runs on the Motorola 68k. Hell even MIPS could have beaten the ageing cancerous mistake that was x86. But by discovering the power of lying to the computer, Intel managed to speed up x86 by implementing it in a sensible instruction set in the background, allowing them to do all the same clever pipelining and optimization that was happening with RISC without having to give up their stranglehold on the desktop market. Without the P5 we live in a very, very different world from a computer hardware perspective.

From this falls many of the bizzare microcode execution bugs that plague modern computers, because when you're doing your optimization on the fly in chip with a second, smaller unix hidden inside your processor eventually you're not going to be cryptographically secure.

RISC is very clearly better for, most things. You can find papers stating this as far back as the 70's, when they start doing pipelining for the first time and are like "you know pipelining is a lot easier if you have a few small instructions instead of ten thousand massive ones.

x86 only persists to this day because Intel cemented their lead and they happened to use x86. True RISC cuts out the middleman of hyperoptimizing microcode on the chip, but if you can't do that because you've girlbossed too close to the sun as Intel had in the late 80's you have to do something.

The Future

This gets us to like the year 2000. I have more chips I find interesting or cool, although from here it's mostly microcontrollers in part because from here it gets pretty monotonous because Intel basically wins for a while. I might pick that up later. Also if this post gets any longer it'll be annoying to scroll past. Here is a sample from a post I have in my drafts since May:

I have some notes on the weirdo PowerPC stuff that shows up here it's mostly interesting because of where it goes, not what it is. A lot of it ends up in games consoles. Some of it goes into mainframes. There is some of it in space. Really got around, PowerPC did.

[royboyfanpage]

Hello ! I'm slowly but surely getting into Green Arrow comics and Roy appears fairly often but not much enough yet that I can get his personality that well. So, I wanted to ask - and I know it probably changed throughout the years, but - how would you describe him at his core ? What kind of guy is he ? His values ? (Is he into leftist and ecological ideologies like Ollie ? etc.)

Thank you for your help !

Hi, thanks for the ask friend!

I’m gonna answer the easiest question first which is his politics- yes, he very much is a leftist like Ollie. I’m just gonna show this one panel

And I don’t think I really need to elaborate more. He’s just like his dad.

As for who Roy is as a character, I don’t think it has really changed that much, at least before the New 52 his characterisation was pretty consistent. Roy’s always been someone who is very much fuelled by his relationships with others and his love for those closest to him. Most notably his love for Lian has always been a huge motivator for him since her introduction- a lot of the time she’s very much the thing keeping him alive, with at least two instances where Roy refuses to give up because if he died Lian would be alone. He also has similar love for the rest of the Arrow family- he was snapped out of brainwashing because he refused to kill Ollie, he’s always had an incredibly close relationship with Dinah ever since Snowbirds (I would highly recommend reading Arsenal 1998 and Vixen: Return of the Lion for them), he’s fiercely protective of Mia and yelled at Ollie when he found out she was gonna become Speedy, and he gave Connor what was essentially an ace acceptance speech decades before Connor was canonically asexual, for some examples.

He’s also an incredibly forgiving person, and he wears his heart on his sleeve a lot of the time. It’s something that definitely came about more heavily after Lian was born (which personally I chalk up to his acknowledgement that she was gonna change him + his promise that he’d never lie to her- promising to be honest and open with his child made him a more open and honest person in general), and it’s SUCH a crucial part of his character. When Roy has feelings, he expresses them loudly and immediately and then moves on most of the time- which is why when Roy and the rest of the Fab Five were stuck on an island designed specifically to bring up grudges and resentments Roy was really the only one who wasn’t that affected- all of his grievances were in response to things that were actively happening in the moment while others had let things fester for a while. It also does make the few moments were he does hide his emotions more poignant, particularly in his relationship with Donna in Titans 1999 (which I would very very highly recommend you read, it’s the jackpot for Roy Harper characterisation.)

And I know it’s very cliche to say about a superhero because duh, he’s a hero, but Roy is so good. He tends to get the reputation as the bad boy of the Titans, which I do get, but at his heart Roy is a hero through and through, not just because he saves the day but because he cares so, so much and the best example of that is through his interactions with kids/teenagers. The most notable example that comes to mind is Grant Emerson- Roy was really one of the first adults in Grant’s life who genuinely cared about him and his wellbeing, and… y’know what, I’m just gonna show this page off again because I will never stop talking about it

Again, highly recommend reading Titans 1999 for Roy and Grant because they’re genuinely one of my favourite father/son-adjacent relationships in any media ever- also recommend Roy’s Titans run for them, oh and if you wanna know more about Grant by himself you should read Damage 1994 :)

Oh and also Roy is lame. An absolute loser. He quotes Friends to try and flirt with women. I hate him.