#archive of alignment charts I made

[randombatcharts]

Not sure if someone made one with this chart before, I didn’t think so though. Since so many people make fun of their cooking abilities I thought this would be a fun one to make. It’s not that I don’t think they can cook, they all just get distracted really easily, and leave the house burning. I May have also done similar things to this as last week I forgot I was making cookies multiple times, and almost burned the oven.

[thatswhatsushesaid]

re: my reblog about jgy’s alignment

the main reason i push my true neutral jgy agenda at every opportunity is because i do believe that, when considered holistically, all of jgy’s thoughts and deeds—the glorious, the good, the bad, and the unspeakably ugly—do balance each other out in a way that doesn’t happen for many other characters in the cast. having an antagonist who sits firmly in the middle of a dnd style character alignment chart is very compelling to me.

however!!

i really do need to emphasize that this doesn’t mean i believe jgy’s total impact on the canon world is also neutral, because i don’t. through both killing wrh and ending the sunshot campaign, and by building over twelve hundred watchtowers that finally made protection from cultivators affordable and accessible to the common people, jgy left the world stronger and more stable than it had been in decades.

---

this post has been added to my dreamwidth meta archive: https://thatswhatsushewrote.dreamwidth.org/814.html

[11cleyvaart]

Saw this meme and had to do it. It's a piss poor job but it's like 3 am so...

Now granted, I HC that Augustin died at 38 so he's forever stuck at that as Gadget but they'd be the same age if he didn't.

After doing heights in the show and seeing that Quimby is equal to 15 pizza boxes in the 2015 show, he comes to 5 foot tall. Shorter than his 1983 counterpart. Gagdge isn't as tall as the 83 one at 6'7, bringing him to 6'3. A height difference of a foot and three inches.

Quimby would be more of just a Gadget sexual than anything tbh.

And my little 2015 Quimby is a transitioned Transman. 1983 is a cisman.

Gadget is a tough one because he seems half the time not interested in any advances Quimby does in the show until literally the last one where he was going to tell Brain he was going to have intercourse with Frank after dinner. So he's got some hidden horny in him in this version.

Again he's horny but at his time and place and Quimby is DTF Gadget at any point in time.

They're both ill

Quimby seems like the kind that would cling to Gadget when they sleep and Gadget is just like 'this is fine'

Quimby seems like a disaster when it comes to hitting on anyone and mainly Gadget, but somehow Gadget has so much swag that Quimby is head over heels.

They have a lot of ship tropes but mainly friends to lovers is a big one for me in them.

For the touch, I can see Gadget being open when he feels like it in the general lower area of town with the rest being allowed. And Quimby melts at the first brush of their fingers and needs to be taken then and there.

1983 version would be no different, just the heights and ages would be changed. And Gadget in '83 for me is Bi and more DTF than his 2015 version who only wants Frank at spur of the moment times. And Frank in the original is a cisman who is so gay for Gadget he can't even see straight.

Here's the original if needed as well from @awfulalignmentcharts

[meikyuubutterflyofficial]

I’m so normal about these two I promise I am please you have to trust me

Link to template post: https://www.tumblr.com/awfulalignmentcharts/757753764553818112/bit-of-a-delay-in-posting-it-oops-but-lmao

[hellsite-detective]

i’m looking for a post chain that starts with a four part meme saying “young man/take the bread sticks and run/i said young man/hand hook man car door gun.” i don’t recall the last box exactly so it’s probably not the exact words. then there’s a post below explaining how many memes are in the meme, and what they are. Then someone made it into a political alignment chart, then made the political alignment chart into the nickelback “look at this photograph” meme, etc. please help me find this thread

ah. an absolute classic. the amount of times i think of this phrase is too much to count quite frankly. now, findin' this one was easy. i didn't even need to consult Google for it. instead, i took a stroll down to that great museum of hellish creations, @hellsite-hall-of-fame, and walked straight into the archive. no need to ask permission, Madame Curator lets me do what i want over there. i walked in, filtered for photo posts. and found it right there at the top. i grabbed the post and filed it away for safe keeping.

here you are! now, young man, why dontcha take your post case and run? have a great day!

Post Case: Closed

[kitsumidori]

I technically found this on Discord but luckily I did find the original post with the blank version

[shadelorde]

Was inspired by @wilcze-kudly to make this 😭 sunstar ship chart

(OG)

[inkedwithcharm]

The Pull Between Us | JJK

Chapter Two:

Gravity Remembers

The Upper World had no shadows—at least, not visibly. Everything was cast in a gleam: walls of seamless glass, corridors lined in opaline white, ceilings that shifted with the sun’s path. But even the brightest rooms had corners where secrets pooled.

And secrets often wore lab coats.

Min Yoongi’s laboratory wasn’t listed on any official registry. It sat beneath the High Council’s university complex, hidden behind a temperature-controlled wine cellar that hadn’t stocked real wine in years. Few dared visit. Even fewer left with answers.

Jungkook, however, was not most people.

“I was wondering how long it would take you,” Yoongi murmured without looking up as the studio door hissed open. He stood beside a wall-to-wall display, symbols floating in the air around him—data charts, gravitational pulse patterns, and forbidden waveform models. His dark hair was tied loosely at the nape, and his sleeves were rolled to the elbows, revealing inked formulas on his forearms. Remnants of rebellion.

“You knew I’d come?” Jungkook asked.

Yoongi finally glanced at him. “You’re Namjoon’s little brother. You were raised on answers. Eventually, you’d start asking the wrong questions.”

“I saw something,” Jungkook said.

“You’re not the first.”

Silence fell between them, filled only by the faint hum of rotating archives.

“I want to know what it was,” Jungkook continued. “And why it felt like someone… was looking back.”

Yoongi motioned him over with a flick of his wrist. “Do you believe in memory fields?”

Jungkook hesitated. “Those are theoretical.”

“Not to her.”

Yoongi tapped a glowing blue model. It shimmered, then shifted into a holographic display of two gravitational fields spiraling around each other—barely touching, always resisting. One was bright and smooth. The other, jagged, filled with distortion.

“This is the Lower World’s field?” Jungkook guessed.

Yoongi nodded. “Unstable. Dense. It burns anything from the Upper World if contact exceeds ninety seconds. But lately…” He touched the edge of the distortion. “It’s changing. Someone’s tampering.”

Jungkook’s pulse quickened.

“Someone down there,” Yoongi added.

“Is it possible they’ve made contact?” Jungkook asked.

Yoongi’s eyes sharpened. “Do you want the real answer or the safe one?”

Jungkook didn’t blink. “The real one.”

Yoongi smirked, then turned to a locked archive panel. With a code and a retinal scan, it opened—revealing a dusty containment case. Inside sat an old, corroded field balancer.

“This was confiscated ten years ago. It wasn’t made here. It’s Lower World tech. Crude. Dangerous. But functional.” He lifted it gently. “It came with blueprints.”

Jungkook stepped closer. The blueprints were faded but legible—schematics of mirror arrays, field stabilizers, and something else. A title scribbled in Lower Script.

“Harmonic Bridge Prototype.”

“She’s building a bridge,” Jungkook whispered.

“Or breaking a barrier,” Yoongi said. “It depends on who’s watching.”

Jungkook looked at the balancer, a strange ache blooming in his chest. “Why haven’t you reported this?”

Yoongi was quiet for a moment, then said softly, “Because I know what it feels like to want to touch something forbidden.”

Their eyes met. For once, Jungkook saw no calculation in Yoongi’s face—only an echo of the same gravity pulling at him.

That night, Jungkook stood alone in his observatory.

Outside the transparent ceiling, the stars wheeled slowly above and below. The Lower World shimmered faintly beneath, like a sleeping city dipped in rusted gold.

He activated his canvas wall again—but this time, not to paint. He uploaded the waveform data from Yoongi’s archive, overlaying it against his own sketches. The patterns matched.

More than matched.

They completed each other.

Lines aligned. Frequencies echoed. It was like their worlds—despite everything—had been designed to mirror.

She’s real.

The realization hit like a breath drawn too deeply. Whoever she was, wherever she was—she wasn’t just a dream. She was proof.

And gravity, Jungkook thought, wasn’t a prison.

It was a path.

Across the Veil, Y/N adjusted the polarity of her prototype field balancer with trembling fingers. The last mirror test had overloaded the stabilizer, and her tools were running low. Supplies were harder to come by now that UNITY was monitoring rogue energy fluctuations.

She couldn’t stay in Sector 9 much longer.

Jimin had gone to barter for parts from a smuggler on the outer rim. Hoseok was building a decoy tracker to throw off patrols. They were risking everything for her—because she still believed there was something out there. Someone.

She hadn’t seen the reflection again. Not since that moment.

But she felt it. Like a phantom thread tugging at her ribs.

Not just curiosity.

Recognition.

She opened her journal and turned to the page with the boy’s silhouette.

A new title above it:

“Fracture Echo.”

She added a second figure.

Smaller. Distant. Almost lost in the draw of space.

Then, for the first time, she drew the bridge between them.

The hum of energy surged through her fingers.

Y/N adjusted the final coil beneath the mirror array. Sparks kissed her gloves, crackling violet against the air—an unstable but promising reaction. For the first time in weeks, the waveform held steady.

She exhaled.

“Three minutes,” she whispered. “Just give me three minutes.”

The lab was built into an abandoned sky-shaft tunnel, carved from rust and forgotten engineering. The mirror array stood in the center: circular, fractured glass fragments suspended midair by electromagnetic columns. A pulse monitor beat gently beside her—tracking gravitational radiation, neural echo, and time exposure. Nothing she did could last long. Every second she remained connected to the Upper World’s field risked a burn rupture.

But today, the veil shimmered differently.

She turned the dial.

Light flared.

And then—

A flicker.

A flash of movement from the other side. Not an image. Not a shape. But color.

Cobalt blue.

She gasped. “It’s painting back.”

He didn’t mean to mix the colors that way.

But his hand moved without him—brush dragging navy and soot into wide sweeping arcs across the digital canvas. A moment before, he’d been painting the garden canopy, its reflective petals. Now, his screen blazed with something else:

Fragments. Light trapped in broken glass. A girl behind mirrors.

He stumbled back.

“What the—”

The studio lights glitched. For a second, the gravity sensor blinked red. It returned to normal a heartbeat later, but the canvas remained changed.

Painted lines that didn’t match his original vision.

He hadn’t imagined her.

“Jimin,” she hissed into her comm. “It responded. The array—reflected something new. I didn’t just see through—I think he saw me.”

Silence on the other end. Then:

“You said ‘he.’”

Y/N hesitated. “I… don’t know. It felt like that. Someone real. Not just an echo.”

“You’re bonding with a ghost through gravity breaches.”

“I’m bonding with possibility.”

Jimin sighed, but softer this time. “Get out of there, Y/N. They’re tracking the spike.”

She glanced at the pulse monitor—already pulsing red.

Too late.

She deactivated the field balancer and yanked the mirror array’s core offline. The glass shards dropped into their sockets like metal sighs. Lights dimmed. But the image still floated behind her eyes.

Not just color now.

A face was forming in her memory.

One she’d never seen, but knew with aching certainty.

Jungkook brought the painting to Yoongi the next morning.

Yoongi said nothing for a long time, then traced a finger over the mirrored linework in the background.

“You know what this means, don’t you?” he asked finally.

“She’s trying to reach out.”

“Or the gravitational fields are starting to mirror each other naturally. The Veil’s thin. The symmetry is unstable.”

Jungkook stared at the brushstrokes. “What if… it’s not just the gravity mirroring?”

Yoongi raised an eyebrow. “You mean the people?”

“I mean us.”

Yoongi frowned. “That’s dangerous thinking.”

“So is pretending this isn’t happening.”

Rain fell in Sector 11—acidic and lightless, soaking the rooftops in silence.

Y/N stared at the mirror shard she carried in her pocket. It wasn’t supposed to hold light. But sometimes, late at night, she swore it glowed faintly with color her world had no name for.

She began sketching again.

Lines curved into features: a jawline, parted lips, dark lashes. The image wasn’t perfect—she had no real reference—but her fingers moved like they knew what belonged where.

She wasn’t afraid of him.

She was afraid of what it meant to remember someone you’ve never met.

Taehyung found Jungkook sitting on the tower balcony at sunrise, painting the sky beneath their feet.

“That’s a strange perspective,” Tae said, peering over his shoulder.

“I think we’ve been upside-down this whole time.”

Taehyung tilted his head. “You’re in love with a myth.”

Jungkook didn’t answer. The sun caught the lower atmosphere just right, and for a moment, the Veil shimmered like glass.

There was no myth.

Just a mirror.

And someone, somewhere, looking back.

The tracker embedded in her tablet glitched. Y/N opened the map overlay—and froze.

A second signal.

A reflection spike.

But this time… from the Upper World’s side.

He was looking too.

Y/N stood in the reactivated tunnel lab, watching the mirror array thrum with energy. The stabilizer was holding better than it had in weeks—likely due to Hoseok’s recalibrations—but it was more than engineering tonight.

It was instinct.

The air inside the sky-shaft was tense, thick with gravitational charge. The readings on the pulse monitor didn’t just show Veil distortion—they showed resonance.

Someone was trying to breach from the other side.

She pressed her palm to the glass array, breath shaking. “Are you there?”

Yoongi had said it wouldn’t hold.

“Thirty seconds, max,” he warned. “Any longer and your gravitational tether will destabilize. You’ll get pulled.”

“I just want to see,” Jungkook murmured.

Yoongi didn’t answer. He didn’t have to. He understood.

Jungkook adjusted the micro-field halo around his studio—a floating ring of phase mirrors now fused with the lower frequency blueprints Yoongi had smuggled from the archives. It was unstable, dangerous, and absolutely illegal.

The moment he activated it, the Veil shimmered across his floor-to-ceiling window like a pulse.

He stepped forward.

And the mirror blinked.

Not a reflection. Not just distortion.

A girl.

A silhouette formed. Slowly. Cautiously.

Curls of inky hair. Wide, stunned eyes. A line of parted lips. He stood on the other side of the fractured light, as if drawn in charcoal and dream dust.

Him.

She stumbled back, eyes wide. “You’re real…”

He didn’t speak—couldn’t. The Veil wasn’t stable enough for voice yet. But his hand lifted slowly, palm mirroring hers.

The mirror pulsed between them.

She pressed her palm to the glass again, and this time—she felt it.

Not warmth. Not pressure.

Recognition.

Her eyes were the color of a world he’d never seen but had always imagined.

He tried to speak, but his voice caught in the distortion wave. Still, she seemed to understand. Her breath fogged the mirror slightly, and she drew something with her finger.

A name.

“Y/N.”

He stared, then nodded once, slowly.

Then—he wrote:

“Jungkook.”

She smiled.

It was the smallest expression, barely a shift in her features, but it hit him like gravity reversing. For a second, everything inside him lifted.

The stabilizer cracked.

Alarms blared on the monitor—field strain, core burnout, breach overload. But she didn’t move. Couldn’t.

His image flickered, broken by the glass fracture.

She pressed her hand harder. “Don’t disappear.”

The Veil sparked violently, splitting their silhouettes. One last pulse of light.

And then—

He was gone.

The Veil shattered.

The mirror array burned out, the room plunged into emergency power. He staggered back, eyes wide, chest heaving.

But he smiled.

She had a name. A face. A voice made of silence he could still hear.

Y/N.

Jimin stormed into the lab an hour later, eyes wild. “What the hell happened?”

Y/N was on the floor, her notebook open in her lap. A single page filled with chaotic sketches—his face, his name, fragments of his studio—and at the top, written over and over again:

“He’s real.”

“He’s real.”

“He’s real.”

Namjoon confronted Jungkook in the garden tower.

“They tracked the gravitational spike,” he said quietly. “You opened a cross-field tunnel.”

“I saw her.”

“She’s from down there, Jungkook. That’s forbidden. That’s dangerous.”

Jungkook turned toward the sky below.

“Then let them come for me.”

Chapter Three:

[kat-katharsis]

Me and my sister were discussing Magnus Archives and Adventure Time and that lead to us talking about which characters fit which fears so I made an... Alignment chart sorta?

[jakubciechomskicasblog]

December-Service-Proofreading

I also proofread pages from a work analysing the effect of imperialism on the economy of countries all over the world including Africa, Asia and Oceania. I had to particularly focus on many of the pages as the quality of the scans was poor and sometimes it was almost impossible to figure out what word the author wrote. To make sure I had it right I opened the source material from the Internet Archive and looked for the exact page and sentence I had problems with. On top of that it had more detailed tables and charts than the previous work which were a headache to work through as the alignment of every line had to be correct. By looking through the difference the proofreader after me made I noticed that I didn't make many mistakes and only added too many spaces while not using citations in some areas.

[sculk-husbands]

Sculk Husbands SHIP CHART 🗣️🗣️‼️‼️

((Blank template under cut))

[randombatcharts]

I was dissecting a sunflower earlier, and they look super cool. I now have a jar with its pollen. Hehe.

Taken from archive of alignment charts I made

[the-endless-archive]

Name: Zatrium Nickname: Zat Gender: Male Pronouns: He/Him Age: Adult Height: Tall S.O: Unknown Alignment: Lawful Good Role: Guardian/Protector Original Design by: @dawns-laboratory

About: Zatrium is a Guardian who’s been in the Archive for a longer time. While he is by no means one of the older or original Guardians, he is for sure not one of the newer ones either.

He’s one of the more solitary Guardians that sticks to himself, yet makes uncommon appearances now and again to check up on those closer to him.

[ Mod ]: So thought I’d post this as a reference since I have it- And since I haven’t really made his design justice in the updates so far.

Anyways, regarding his height: He tends to tower over those of average height. I’d show a height chart if I had one, but I don’t- Think around maybe a head taller than the average pony.

[theoppositeofprofound]

this is very random but I found the alignment charts you made a few years ago for Silm/Narn characters and they're excellent and also thank you for including Aerin in the Narn ones. I think you are very correct

(I also promptly lost all the links because the Tumblr search function is terrible but hopefully I am remembering correctly)

-@outofangband

Thank you! It's always a delight to see you too. I actually went through my archive and found all the alignment posts, because the search function is a nightmare and I have no functional tagging system. Haven't turned up the Narn one yet but here's hoping.

[pastelwitchling]

               Alex was hiding something.

               Normally, Michael wouldn’t have minded, but this was a secret from him, and knowing that Alex didn’t want to tell him was bothering him a lot more than he was willing to confess.

               Alex was always painstakingly honest. The blatant lie was unsettling.

               It wasn’t like he was keeping out of sight; Michael saw him plenty at the Crashdown or the Pony, and especially the Project Shepherd bunker when he felt antsy and wanted to go somewhere he knew Alex would be. But the airman was distant, like his mind was a million miles away. Like he was taking breaks in between work, and wouldn’t tell Michael what that work was no matter how many times he hinted that he wanted to know.

               Hinted. Because outright asking what Alex was doing would’ve made it look like Michael cared. And he did, it was eating him up not to know where Alex was going and what he was doing all the time, but Alex didn’t need to know that.

               It happened again one morning when Michael had walked into the Crashdown to find Alex at the counter, leaning on his elbows and scrolling through something on his phone. Michael came to stand behind him, close enough to inhale his sweet vanilla scent, and it was a testament to his concentration that he didn’t seem to notice someone standing so close to him. What was he doing?

               “Busy?” he said, and Alex whipped around, eyes wide.

               “Guerin,” he breathed, locking his phone and putting it in his back pocket. He tried for a casual smile, but it was too late. “Uh – hey.”

               “Hi,” he said, forcing his lips to an amused smirk. “Did I actually scare you just now?”

               Alex shook his head, pressing his lips together. “Guess my senses aren’t as sharp as they used to be,” he chuckled, the sound fake and nervous. “I should put in more hours at the base.”

               And he turned around as if to hide his face. Michael should’ve dropped it then, should’ve let Alex tell him whatever lie he wanted. But that was just it. Alex didn’t lie, especially not to Michael.

               “More?” he scoffed. “How? You’re already there all the time.”

               Alex must have been busier than Michael thought, because he didn’t pick up on Michael’s tone either. Or if he did, he was pretending not to. He hummed.

               “Yeah, we get really busy around spring.”

               Michael pressed the tip of his tongue to the corner of his lips. “Alex –”

               “Oh, thanks,” Alex smiled as the waitress came out with his to-go order.

Michael noticed it was enough to feed two people. His face fell. Was Alex seeing someone? Was that why he had been so busy lately? He had been scrolling his phone, was that because he’d been looking through texts? His heart hammered uncomfortably in his chest at the thought. Alex had broken up with Forrest not that long ago, when did he have time to like someone else so much?

“See you,” Alex said with a small smile as he passed, not even looking at Michael. Michael caught his scent as he passed, his heart hammering uncomfortably in his chest.

Let it go, he warned himself as he heard the door of the diner open and close behind Alex. His hands clenched to fists, and the faint clacking of trembling plates and glasses rang. The ground quivered, and he briefly noted someone to his side go, “Is it an earthquake?”

But he couldn’t care what impression he was making, what people might guess. Let it go, he warned himself again. Let it go, let it go, let it go –

“Damn it,” he growled under his breath, and turned around, leaving the diner to find Alex opening his car door. With a rough, upward nudge of his chin, the door slammed shut, and Alex stepped back, startled. Then he looked up, caught Michael’s gaze, and something in his expression turned resigned, as if thinking, I should’ve known.

“Are you seriously going to do this?”

“Are you seriously gonna lie to my face?”

“I’m not lying,” Alex said, looking away. “I am busy –”

“Too busy for me?”

Alex pressed his lips together. “Okay, you know what? Fine. I’m looking into something, but –”

“Great. What?”

“I can’t tell you,” he said.

Michael shook his head. Since when did Alex hide things from him? The only time he’d ever hidden anything was . . .

“The spaceship piece,” he realized. “You’re looking into something about me, aren’t you? That’s why you won’t talk to me?”

Alex said nothing. Michael huffed a relieved, exasperated chuckle. “Private, come on, what do you think I’m gonna do?”

He searched Michael’s face a moment, as if silently deliberating with himself, and he sighed, his shoulders slumped. “Get your hopes up.”

Michael shook his head, reaching for Alex’s hand. A relief he didn’t know he’d needed hit him when Alex didn’t pull away. He moved closer, his other hand cupping Alex’s jaw.

“When do I ever get my hopes up about anything?”

He’d meant it to be a joke, but Alex’s frown deepened. “You pretend you don’t,” he said. “You’re not the realist I am, Guerin, no matter how hard you try to be.” He exhaled shakily and leaned in. Michael met him halfway, pressing their foreheads together. “If you knew what I was doing, and I – I failed –”

“Hey,” Michael said. “Nothing you do could ever disappoint me.”

He hadn’t realized just how badly he’d needed to be with Alex, to feel close to him and know he was here, not trying to avoid Michael, but to protect him again. He should’ve hated it; how desperately he needed to be with Alex, to inhale his scent and feel his breath against his lips.

For a moment, he couldn’t think of anything but that feeling of Alex close to him. He wrapped an arm around Alex’s waist and pulled their bodies tightly together. He heard Alex’s soft gasp.

“W-What’re you –”

“Giving us what we both need,” Michael breathed, bringing his other hand into Alex’s hair, reveling at the soft strands between his fingers. “Don’t ever ghost me again.”

Alex visibly swallowed and nodded, one hand tight on Michael’s jacket. His dark eyes looked up into Michael’s, and it was a miracle Michael managed to stay standing. Then he licked his lips, and Michael’s mouth fell open as he leaned in.

“Alex –”

But Alex was already stepping back, his knuckles on Michael’s jacket white, and Michael was glad to know the distance between them, no matter how small, wasn’t just bothering him.

Before he could ask Alex what he was doing, why he was moving away, Alex said, “Call Max and Isobel. Meet me in the Project Shepherd bunker tonight at midnight.”

Michael’s brows furrowed. “Alex, you can just tell me –”

“No, Guerin,” he said, something like apprehension in his eyes. Michael couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen Alex afraid. “This is about all three of you. You should all know.”

 Michael hadn’t wanted to let Alex go for fear that he would disappear again, but the urgency in his voice, the concern, it had Michael taking out his phone and dialing for his brother before Alex could even pull out of the Crashdown parking lot.

Neither of his siblings knew what to make of his request to suddenly come to the Project Shepherd bunker, but as soon as they found out that Alex was the one who had asked, they knew it was serious and stopped whatever they were doing. Alex rarely asked them for anything, let alone anything together. If he said it was important, they all knew better than to question it.

When Michael and his siblings had walked into the bunker, they found Alex and Kyle together, heads huddled closely over a chart of planets and stars. Michael’s brows furrowed as he neared it. It looked like one of his old alignments, discarded and forgotten years ago, but it had more writing and lines drawn over with pens, writing along the corners, equations and different arrows on other, smaller pieces of paper taped on top. It looked like weeks’ worth of work crammed onto one table.

“Hey,” Alex said, glancing up. “Thanks for coming.”

Michael’s priority at the moment was getting close to Alex, so he wrapped an arm around his waist and pulled him in against him, and, more importantly, away from Kyle.

“What’s going on?” Michael asked.

“What is all this?” Max said, still staring at the map of planets like he recognized some of them and was trying to remember where.

Alex sighed shakily in that way that always made Michael want to hold him and protect him from the world. He tightened the arm around his waist, all but pressing Alex’s back to his own chest, feeling his heart hammering against his ribs.

“This,” he said, “is a working theory. But just for now. We’ll know soon enough if it’s accurate or not.”

“What do you mean?” Isobel shook her head, looking to Kyle. “What’ve you guys been doing this whole time?”

“Well,” Kyle said, looking almost as tired as Alex, “it was actually Alex’s idea.”

Alex stepped out of Michael’s hold, squeezing his wrist quickly before letting go. “It – the last time I came down to your bunker, I saw this map and I realized it was familiar.”

Michael was frowning. He tried to listen, but he couldn’t focus with Alex so far away. Still, no matter how many steps Michael took towards him or tried to reach for him, Alex still kept a distance, and Michael didn’t know why.

“Familiar?” Max raised a brow. “What do you mean?”

Alex glanced at Michael, then said, “In the – the Project Shepherd archives.”

Michael’s brows furrowed, and he looked to Max and Isobel to make sure he’d heard right. “You’re saying Project Shepherd had this map?”

“They had one like it,” he said. “Some of the planets were in different parts of the solar system and the stars didn’t exactly align, but these symbols here?” he pointed at the little curved drawings along the corners, and Michael realized that he recognized them, too.

“They’re the exact same from the spaceship piece Guerin has, with lights – here, these glowing things here? I tracked their recorded heat signatures and they fit the pods’ signatures exactly. Decades worth of work in these charts, so –”

“So he called me,” Kyle said, “and we’ve been working out a way to connect the two maps ever since.” He smiled humorlessly. “So many things I never needed to know about stars and galaxies, but hey, why would I want to spend my nights at the bar with my best friend when we could be working on astrology alignments in a dark bunker for weeks on end? You know, like all the cool alien conspiracists.”

“Okay, first of all,” Isobel said, “you’re not an alien conspiracist if you know actual aliens. And second –”

“Where did you even get access to this?” Max asked, looking between Alex and Kyle and settling on Alex. “Aren’t your dad’s colleagues going to notice that these charts are missing?”

“I’m the best hacker the Air Force has had in a century,” Alex said with a surety that made Michael instinctively reach out to touch him, even as his eyes stayed on the alignments, searching. “No one will find anything I don’t want them to.”

“Alex,” Michael said slowly, not daring to hope. “Is this what I think it is?”

He looked up and saw that Alex had been watching him carefully, and suddenly, the distance made sense. When Alex had first asked to know everything about Michael, Michael had shown him his spaceship and told him he’d wanted more than anything to leave the planet. What if he was given the choice? Alex had been so terrified that he’d kept a piece of the spaceship hidden for months, something he wouldn’t have done for anyone else. But because it was Michael, because Michael was special, he’d done what he’d needed to do to keep him.

And then Alex had said he wouldn’t stand in his way, and Michael hadn’t stopped him. No wonder he was so terrified now, of what Michael might say, of his decision.

Max shook his head. “Why didn’t you tell us you were looking into this?”

Alex hesitated.  “Because there was a smaller than one-percent chance I was right, and I didn’t want to get your hopes up.”

“Alex?” Michael said.

Alex swallowed and looked down, like he already knew what Michael would want, what he would choose, and it was so heartbreaking that Michael almost didn’t want Alex to tell him at all.

But Alex was still Alex, still strong, still self-sacrificing, still too in love with Michael to think of himself.

He swallowed and straightened. He glanced at Max and Isobel, the realization and apprehension dawning on their faces, then his eyes settled back on Michael. “I think Kyle and I got it right. I think we may have found your planet.”

[lockthespirits87]

I made an alignment chart for various social media apps for the mcyt fandom out of boredom, soooooo

Lawful Good: YouTube- YouTube is a lovely place 98% of the time, the other 2% is clickbait/weird videos that cross boundaries and hate comments. But otherwise, YouTube is great, I love YouTube

Neutral Good: Instagram- Fanart. Just fanart. Its so good. But sometimes you'll see a post thats hating for no reason or some Twitter bullshit or ship posts. Usually they're avoidable, but they still show up sometimes. Also, Instagram decided to become a Tik Tok kinnie so they lost points.

Chaotic Good: Tumblr- Hellsite (affectionate). Its so chaotic. It is wonderful here. Once again, fanart is really good and so are the character analysis' and lore theories. Only issue is there a lot of dilf post and shit like that, which normally is funny, but like not with Philza Minecraft. That's weird. Also x-readers. Those are weird. Otherwise, I love this place.

Lawful Neutral: Archives of Our Own- REALLY good fanfics (especially the hero and royalty au's. Y'all are creative as hell)! Amazing authors, there's stories for everyone. Butttttt there is, like, x-readers with minors and like ship stories, but those are few and far between. Pretty good site.

True Neutral: Reddit- this one depends on the day. It's mostly memes, but a lot of arguments happen in comments. Funny posts and good art, but like, comments kinda suck sometimes.

Chaotic Neutral: Tik Tok- honestly I feel bad for the Tik Tok part of the fandom they get so much false info or take things out of context so much lmao. Really good place for animations/comic/cosplays, also theories and clips, but sometimes they do ship minors there which is weird, plus Butch Hartman, so that's why it's this low.

Lawful Evil: Twitch Chat- VERY HIT OR MISS. Twitch chat will either be lovely and normal and interactive, or full of spam and say weird shit. It depends on the day and on the Twitch chat tbh.

Neutral Evil: Wattpad- i only use this app for writing so I can keep track of Word Count and editing mistakes, or stories that are copied from the original authors from ao3 because ao3 is very laggy for me, otherwise, fuck Wattpad. Touch grass. Now.

Chaotic Evil: Twitter- For the Love God, stop trying to cancel people every 5 minutes. Twitter brings up shit from like 5 years ago and gets mad at the cc's for a hobby at this point. Let people make content and be happy

Anyways, I would like thoughts, because honestly this was just on a whim lmao