#GRID Reboot

[kawaiialeisha]

💥ICP REBOOT

CW // blood and craziness

I LOVE REBOOT... LIVE LAUGH REBOOT... FOR LIFE... HHHJKDEF

ALSO I've been reslistening to 'Imma Kill U' by ICP too many times to count so if I animate it with Reboot... don't be surprised HDDSFJKL

ALSO THIS PERSON REMINDED ME TO POST THESE HERE AHAHA

I love this

✨REBOOT WALLY AU BY:

@bloodrediscream

[fabdante]

Do you think reboot Dante is like. A good/healthy choice as a boyfriend, or...?

Maybe I should rephrase that: In what ways is reboot Dante messed up as a partner, and in what ways is he good? Like, what type of person/personality would he best get along with, in a relationship?

i think it depends a lot on the time period in which you are with him asdfghjk

in addition to swan song, i'd wanted to write a story about dante from the period of moving to the trailer to like the start of the game and the central through line was the relationship he had with my gf's oc liz and their eventual break up because he's just...a hot mess of a person at the time (the two reconcile later and get back together post game)

i think one of the biggest issues to contend with when dating reboot dante is the fact he has a LOT of unaddressed trauma and unaddressed mental health issues, things he is very much ignoring and are very much not going away which make him fairly combative and fairly volatile as a person.

i think there's a lack of willingness in him to lean on others for anything, a stubborn sort of self reliance and self focus which makes it difficult i think to try and built a relationship with him because of that lack of willingness to like...work together i guess. like while independence and self sufficiency in a relationship is good, i think for him this goes a bit further then that and it'd be more like an unwillingness for any sort of help and what not, which can be difficult to deal with and also make it difficult to feel like you can in turn go to your partner for support or help. he's very stubborn i guess is what im getting at asdfghjk

i think there's also the lack of vulnerability. he struggles a lot with that and i think it causes a lot of problems for him in relationships. like his walls are very high, it's hard for him to trust, it's hard for him to reciprocate trust people might give to him. it's hard to get him to that point.

i think with reboot dante to we see a level of volatility and like anger issues which can translate to him being standoffish and occasionally meaner and harsher then intended, which go back to these last two points. because he lacks that willingness to ask for help and that willingness to be vulnerable so in that stubbornness i think he's less likely to come back to a partner and be like 'sorry i didn't mean x i actually think y' and yada yada. i think it kind of ties back to the idea also of like when you haven't been treated well, if someone's trying to be nice to you, you might still lash out anyway when confronted with affection.

which then all ties back into the mental health issues and his self image and self destructive tendencies. i think he's the type to blow up a good thing because he's worried it's too good for him, or because he's scared of fucking up so he'll just fuck it up now, or just the simple fact that being vulnerable and trusting someone and having a level of commitment to anything is scary. i think he often also thinks people generally will lose interest in him, or figure out that he's kinda shitty and leave. so it's easier to push other people away and not do those things and not face the feeling of rejected and abandoned, rather creating a sense of control over the situation. which then just only further cements these ideas he has about himself.

commitment issues are another issue. my read of dante, particularly before he addresses any of these things, does have some commitment issues asdfghjk sometimes this is because he reads relationships as less serious then his partner might, sometimes this is out of self destruction, sometimes it's a way to spite a partner, etc. like which like i don't think he cheats on all his partners but at least pre game dante has done that it is a possibility of things he might do.

on the flip side i do think he's got a lot of good attributes.

i do think, once you get him there, he is a fiercely loyal person. we see this in both preboot and reboot. once you've become one of his people he's going to fight tooth and nail for you. he's a scary dog boyfriend to me in this way. you get scary dog privilege with him asdfghjk

i think he's good at listening. he doesn't need to talk about his issues when you're talking about yours. i think he's quite attentive as a listener to like he remembers what you tell him. he's curious to like he wants to know things about you and what not. and again he's going to remember the things you tell him.

which i think lends to him being thoughtful in his own way at times. like he's not going to be very upfront about feelings (vulnerable is scary) but i think he will show that thoughtfulness through actions. like because he's remembering what you tell him he's aware of that food you had that one time that reminds you of a specific comfy childhood memory or whatever and like your sad now so he's going to go across town to get it type of thing. you like a movie he's going to watch the movie. also i mean the classic reboot dante activity: pier dates where he's either cheating the games to get prizes or when the piers shut down and he's turning on the rides anyway dfghjkl

i think he'd be good at comforting someone. i'm not sure how to justify that one asdfghj but i can imagine him caring for a partner whos upset about something and doing his best to comfort them there.

he's also just fun i think. he's goofy. he's silly. he's probably great at spontaneous broke dates. he doesn't take things very seriously which can be a con but ALSO a massive pro! like i think when he's having a good day and he's in a good mood he's probably just delightful, the energy is probably great and it's hard to not get in the spirit of things.

i also think that like he's always the type to be very boastful about a partner doing something. their accomplishments are important kind of thing.

now, naturally, i think in the post game we see a lot more of these positives and we see him working on some of these negatives.

i imagine in the post game he's trying to be more direct about his feelings and being more vulnerable, though he still hates the vulnerability. i think he's probably starting to learn he doesn't have to do things alone, though that one is going to be an uphill battle along with his declaration that he's protecting humanity now (the realization that he needs help to do that vs wanting to do it on his own and keep everyone out of what he considers his problem to fix) i think having such a parallel in kat, there's a lot of growing the two of them can do (Dante with these sorts of issues and Kat with the trauma of everything that happened and Vergil's abandonment)

i think just generally feeling like he has a purpose and the weight of limbo and feeling like it's going to kill him young probably helps?

as for what sort of partner i think meshes well with that like...i think he needs someone who's patient, someone who see's there's something under his bravado and his stubbornness and everything. and someone who stands their ground against him when he's in a mood or what not, someone who's willing to go against that stubbornness when it's not serving him. i think to he needs someone who communicates feelings in a way he understands. like someone in tune with their own emotions and is able to express those feelings to him is great, but in addition to that i think they need to also be able to communicate that through actions because i think he understands it better that way. he also needs someone he can joke around with. someone who's willing to play around with him like he's going to play around with them. i think he too admires loyalty and trust, so those i think would be really important to him.

those are my thoughts anyway asdfghjk

[steveharrignton]

nah i just binged through all of veronica mars and i do not accept the ending i’m in denial i refuse to believe that goodbye

[cantsayidont]

January 1990. The dilemma with crowded team books like LEGION OF SUPER-HEROES is that even if there's a consistent creative team with coherent plans, the sheer size of the cast means that some characters and plot threads tend to fade in and out. The first third of the previous LEGION book, by Paul Levitz, had indicated that there was something going on between Lightning Lass (Ayla Ranzz) and Shrinking Violet (Salu Dibgy), but by issue #51, following the death of Superboy and a bunch of other events, it appears to have cooled, and Ayla began quite aggressively hitting on Rokk Krinn's younger brother Pol (Magnetic Kid), who was considerably younger than she and seemed dismayed by her attentions. It's not exactly clear what happened with her and Vi: After the death of Superboy (on whom Vi had had a doomed and distant crush as a kid), Vi became significantly more brusque and abrasive with her teammates, but I'm not sure if Levitz intended to suggest that her harsher attitude was because she'd had a falling out with Ayla or if Vi's attitude was the cause of their subsequent distance; either way, it's tempting to read Ayla's flirtation with Pol as a reaction to it.

Pol died at the end of that series, and the first issue of this one revealed that during the five-year gap, Vi had been drafted into the Imskian army, fought in the war between Rokk and Pol's home planet of Braal, been involved in a war crime, and ended up in the stockade for refusing to keep quiet about it. During that time, she and Ayla had begun writing to each other, and the issue culminates in Vi, newly released from the stockade, deciding to join Ayla on the ranch of Ayla's brother Garth (the former Lightning Lad) on their home planet Winath. In the page above, from issue #3, Vi is now on Winath with Ayla, and they're clearly together. Here they are in issue #20, after rejoining the reformed Legion:

(Vi got her leg blown off by Roxxas in issue #10, and is grousing because Brainiac 5 has arranged a synthetic replacement that's obviously the wrong color. The reason their quarters look like this is that the new Legion headquarters on the Talus asteroid was previously a brothel.)

Ayla and Vi remained together after this, until the post-Zero Hour reboot in 1994 wiped out this timeline and no-homo'd them. They've been back together in some but not all of the various subsequent reboots.

[marvelseries19]

VANISHING POINT

Chapter One - Castaway

Chapter one | Chapter two | Chapter three | Chapter Four | Chapter five |

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x female agent reader

Genre: Angst

Summary: The mission was successful, however, your return home will not be as easy as you may believe. In fact, you're not sure you would be able to get back.

A/N: It's been a while since I've been excited about writing. So, here is the first chapter. I hope you like it. I rewrote a few times, but I think this is as good as it gets. I would appreciate feedback on it, and any comments, suggestions, questions, or just conversations about it are welcome. There are some posts that I would like for you to check out, there is some info and ideas that I wanted to let you know. If you saw a typo or something, no, you didn't. Enjoy :)

Warnings: +18, descriptions of injuries, language, etc.

Word count: 1.2k+

[You do not have permission to repost or translate any of my stories or claim them as yours.]

The Quinjet hummed steadily beneath your fingertips, the vast stretch of ocean below endless and unforgiving. The ride back to the compound was at least full of beautiful views.

It had been an easy mission, just surveillance on a suspected HYDRA base. It took a week to complete, and now you were on your way home.

You leaned back slightly, exhaling. Just a few more hours, and you would be back home. Back with her.

Your fingers idly reached for the chain around your neck, your thumb grazing over the cool metal of the ring that rested against your collarbone. Natasha’s ring. Your ring.

"So you don’t forget who’s waiting for you," she had murmured the night before, fastening the delicate chain around your neck, leaving a soft kiss at the nape of your neck. You had smiled, shaking your head, but you had worn it beneath your suit every day since.

You were still lost in thought when Control’s voice crackled into the cockpit.

"Quinjet 9, this is Control. We just lost your tracking signal. Do you copy?"

Your brows furrowed. That’s not good.

"Yeah, I’m here. Everything looks fine… But let me check." Your fingers moved swiftly across the controls.

"Check your navigation relay. We’re showing nothing on our grid." A knot of unease formed in your stomach.

"Navigation relay is showing an error," you reported, your voice tight. "Stand by. I'll reboot—" The comms crackled, then cut out.

Silence.

Your stomach dropped.

"Control, say again? I'm losing you—repeat last!"

A new sound sliced through the cockpit—a shrill, piercing alarm.

Your radar flashed red. Missile lock. Your blood turned to ice.

"Shit—"

The first blast struck the Quinjet’s side. The impact threw you forward, your head slamming against the seat as the ship lurched violently. The left engine flared and failed instantly.

Alarms screamed. The Quinjet spun into freefall.

"Unidentified hostiles—taking heavy damage! Engines failing—I’m going down!" You shouted into the comms, straining to regain control.

"09, respond! What’s your location?! Agent Sloane, respond!"

You gritted your teeth, forcing your shaky hands over the controls, trying to reroute power. But the ship was already lost. The only thing you could do was brace for impact.

Your fingers clutched the ring against your chest.

Another explosion. The world blurred.

The ocean rushed up to meet you.

And then... Nothing.

—

The tension in the command center was thick enough to suffocate. Maria Hill stood with her arms crossed, eyes locked on the central monitor where Quinjet 9’s tracking data had once been.

Now, just static. Nick Fury stood beside her, his jaw tight, watching the same feed with unreadable eyes. Agent Dawson swallowed hard, headset pressed to his ear as he scanned multiple screens, waiting for anything-any sign of life.

Then—a red alert.

Dawson’s heart dropped.

"No, no, no..."

He straightened, turning toward Hill and Fury. His voice was steadier than he felt.

"We lost Quinjet 9."

Hill’s eyes narrowed. This couldn't be happening. "What do you mean 'lost'?"

Dawson hesitated. "No comms. No signal. No trace. It’s just... gone. We don't know where it is."

Silence.

Fury exhaled sharply, running a hand over his face. "Shit."

A muscle in Hill’s jaw twitched, but she gave a curt nod. "Start a search. Now."

Dawson hesitated. "Are we letting Agent Romanoff know?"

Fury and Hill exchanged a look.

Hill's voice was quieter now, almost resigned. "We'll tell her soon."

But Natasha Romanoff was already walking toward them, worried about not being able to contact you.

And the moment she saw their faces, she knew something had happened.

—

The first thing you felt was pain.

It dragged you from unconsciousness, a dull, throbbing ache that rolled through your entire body in relentless waves. Your head pounded, the world tilting dangerously even though you weren’t moving. The distant sound of waves crashing against the shore filtered through the ringing in your ears.

You forced your eyes open.

Blurry at first. Then, sharper—too sharp. Sunlight burned against your retinas, forcing you to squeeze them shut again. You tried to shift, but the moment you did, agony tore through your right side.

Your breathing hitched.

Ribs—definitely broken. You pushed through the pain, blinking against the light, taking in your surroundings.

Sand. Golden, coarse grains clinging to your skin. Your tactical suit was torn and streaked with blood and seawater. You were half-buried in the surf, the edges of the tide touching your boots. Further up, debris from the Quinjet was scattered across the beach—twisted metal, shattered glass, pieces of what was once your cockpit.

Shit.

You bit back a groan as you tried to sit up. A sharp, white-hot burst of pain shot through your right shoulder.

Dislocated.

Gritting your teeth, you cradled your arm against your torso, barely holding back a scream. Your ribs protested with every movement, but you had to keep going.

Your left hand found your chain, fingers fumbling until they closed around the ring.

You exhaled shakily.

Natasha.

She had no idea where you were. No one did.

The Quinjet had gone down off-radar. You had no comms, no signal, no way of knowing if anyone was even looking for you yet.

You’re on your own.

For now, at least.

Your forehead throbbed, and when you reached up, your fingers came back slick with blood.

You checked yourself over as best you could. Right shoulder, dislocated; ribs, at least two broken; head, bleeding, probably a mild concussion; and finally your legs, sore but not broken. Good. Small victories.

Breathing through the pain, you forced yourself to move. You needed shelter. Water. Some kind of plan.

But first—the shoulder.

You swallowed hard. There's no way around it. It had to go back in.

You found a rock near the treeline, rough and sturdy enough for leverage. Your breathing was ragged as you planted your feet, braced your body, and slammed your shoulder back into place.

White-hot pain was felt behind your eyes, swiftly dragging you into darkness. Resetting your shoulder—or other joints—was nothing new, but never under circumstances like these or with this many injuries.

The agony was too much for your body to handle. So to protect you, it shut off.

—

A few months ago

"You’re fidgeting."

Natasha’s voice was amused, but there was something softer in her tone, something fond.

You rolled your eyes, stuffing your hands in your pockets. "I don’t fidget."

She smirked, stepping closer, the city lights casting a glow on her freckled cheekbones. "You do when you're nervous."

You sighed, exhaling a shaky breath. It was a stupid thing to be nervous about. You’d faced assassins, HYDRA, and alien invasions, but somehow, this moment felt more terrifying.

You pulled the ring from your pocket. A simple band, strong, unyielding.

Much like her.

Natasha’s breath caught.

"I know we never really talked about it," you said, swallowing past the lump in your throat. "And I know we’re both terrible at normal, but—"

She cut you off with a kiss, her fingers curling around yours, closing them over the ring.

When she pulled back, her voice was barely a whisper.

"I was waiting for you to ask."

—

You were jerked back to reality by the sharp, relentless pain in your ribs and shoulder, the ache grounding you in the present. But the memory of your marriage proposal still lingered, a warmth that cut through the agony like a lifeline.

You flexed your fingers. It worked.

Barely conscious, body trembling, you let your fingertips brush against the ring resting against your chest. A reminder. A promise.

And with that, you forced yourself to your feet.

[todays-xkcd]

In my reboot, Dennis the Menace was just trying to send Mr. Wilson a nice comet, but accidentally wiped out his dinosaur garden.

Slingshots [Explained]

Transcript

[A table grid with two columns and six rows.]

[Two column labels placed above the respective columns, six row labels to the left of the respective rows.]

[Column 1:] Regular slingshot [Column 2:] Gravitational slingshot

[Row 1:] Used for hunting [Tick] [Cross]

[Row 2:] Used for sport shooting [Tick] [Cross]

[Row 3:] Used for spacecraft propulsion [Cross] [Tick]

[Row 4:] Large online enthusiast community [Tick] [Tick]

[Row 5:] May have caused dinosaur extinction Probably not Maybe

[Row 6:] Used by Dennis the Menace to terrorize Mr. Wilson [Tick] Not yet, but I'm pitching a reboot

[athenasdaydreams]

Hey I have never requested anything before so I hope this is right but can you please write like literally anything for Jack

Head canon list

What a random day with him is like

going on a date

a meet cute

literally anything you want I crave more of him or if you also have and good fanfic recommendations for him I would love them

pairing: jack wilder x reader

summary: you're stuck in a bank vault. with a wanted thief.

chapter warnings: being stuck in a place for 12 hours (claustrophobia maybe?)

A/N: MY FIRST REQUEST IM LITERALLY GIGGLING

You weren’t supposed to be there. At least, not according to your manager, who had very specifically told you to run your systems diagnostics in the morning, during working hours, with someone else present. But you were tired of being treated like a rookie. You knew this place like the back of your hand—and besides, if you could finish the audit tonight, you’d finally have enough leverage to stop being handed intern-level tasks.

So there you were at 12:47 a.m., crouched by the biometric scanner inside Vault Room C, tapping away at your tablet and listening to the faint hum of the security grid recharging.

You had just finished syncing the AI lock’s firmware when you heard it. A soft click. Then a quiet shuffle.

Your shoulders stiffened.

You weren’t alone.

You reached slowly for the emergency baton strapped to your hip. It was more ceremonial than practical—mostly for insurance compliance—but it was heavy enough to crack a nose.

From behind one of the tall shelving units, a voice broke the silence: “Okay, so technically I didn’t know anyone would be here tonight.”

You spun around. “Who the hell—?!”

A man stepped into view, hands up, expression guileless. He wore all black, which you had to admit was very on-brand for a burglar, but the thing that really got you? He was smiling. Like this was a meet-cute at a goddamn coffee shop.

“Hi,” he said casually, giving you a little wave. “Love what you’ve done with the lighting. Very ‘Mission Impossible meets Bond villain.’”

You stared at him. He looked... young. Handsome. Way too pleased with himself. And familiar.

Your eyes narrowed. “Wait—Jack Wilder?”

He gave a low whistle, impressed. “Aw, you do know me. That saves us so much time.”

“You’re a wanted thief.”

“Magician,” he corrected, casually plucking a playing card from thin air and tossing it aside. “Thief is such a harsh word. I prefer ‘liberator of overly guarded things.’”

You didn’t lower the baton. “You broke into a high-security vault in the middle of the night. Do you want to go to prison?”

He tilted his head. “Not particularly. Though, if I had to share a cell with someone, I could think of worse company.”

You tried to keep your face neutral, but you felt heat rise to your cheeks anyway. “No,” you said flatly. “You’re not charming your way out of this.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” He looked past you, eyes scanning the wall-mounted control panel. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I was just about to make a very flashy exit.”

And that’s when the vault door—triggered by the AI lockdown you had just rebooted—slammed shut with a thunderous hiss of pressure.

You froze. Jack’s eyes widened.

Overhead, the ceiling speaker chirped to life: “Emergency lockdown protocol engaged. Vault sealed until 1:00 p.m. Estimated remaining time: 12 hours, 9 minutes.”

Jack blinked.

Then turned to you with a crooked grin. “...Sooo. What’s your policy on spooning for warmth?”

You groaned, turning to bang your head against the vault wall. “This is so far above my paygrade.”

-

The silence didn’t last long.

It never did, around him.

After approximately four minutes of your best “don’t even look at me” energy, Jack made a quiet tsk sound and got to his feet.

“I don’t know who designed this place, but they definitely weren’t thinking of guests,” he muttered, brushing his hands off on his pants. “No chairs. No water. Not even a panic button disguised as a fun little puzzle. Lazy.”

You gave him a look. “It’s a vault, not a hotel suite.”

Jack glanced around like he hadn’t noticed that before. “Could’ve fooled me. All this brushed steel and mood lighting? Very Death Star chic.”

You didn't respond, mostly because you were doing mental math.

Vault Room C was climate controlled, and once the lockdown began, non-essential systems—like heat circulation—powered down to conserve energy. That meant that somewhere in the next few hours, this place was going to get cold.

Uncomfortably cold.

Jack, seemingly unaware or just willfully ignoring the same realization, resumed shuffling his cards, occasionally flicking one across the room and catching it with maddening ease. You tried not to watch, but your eyes kept drifting.

There was something infuriatingly smooth about him. Not just his hands, but his whole presence—like he’d trained every inch of his body to move on a beat you couldn’t hear. Even now, locked in a vault with no escape plan, no phone, and no heater, he was performing.

You hated that it was starting to work.

“I can feel you watching me,” he said, not looking up.

“I’m not.”

He raised an eyebrow and lazily caught a card behind his back. “Liar.”

You blew out a sharp breath and stood, rubbing your arms against the rising chill.

Jack noticed. “Oh, right. Temperature drop.”

You didn’t answer.

“Vaults are always set to power down non-essentials. Should’ve brought a coat,” he added lightly. “Or a date.”

“Stop talking,” you muttered.

But your voice lacked bite.

Because your fingertips were already going numb.

Jack noticed that too.

He walked over slowly, arms folded, cards gone. “You’re shaking.”

“I’m fine.”

“Uh-huh. That’s why your lips are turning blue.” He paused. “Look. I know you hate me—”

“I don’t hate you—”

“That’s progress—but unless you want to end up as a freeze-dried cautionary tale, we should at least try to stay warm.”

You stared at him. “Jack. If this is some ploy to get me to cuddle with you—”

He raised his hands. “No tricks. No charm. Just survival instincts. You don’t have to like me. But you’re cold. And I run warm. And—” he motioned to the walls, “—we’ve got twelve hours and no blankets. That’s math.”

You hesitated.

Everything in you screamed not to give him the satisfaction. But you could already feel the chill settling into your bones. And your uniform jacket wasn’t built for subzero conditions.

Wordlessly, you sank back down onto your crate, drawing your knees up to your chest.

Jack waited a beat, then carefully sat beside you—not too close, just near enough that the heat from his body made a difference. After a moment, he shrugged out of his outer jacket and draped it over your shoulders.

You stared at him.

He didn’t look smug. For once.

He looked… thoughtful.

“Told you,” he said softly. “Not always trying to charm my way out of things.”

You didn’t speak for a while.

Eventually, the quiet filled with soft breathing and the far-off hum of the AI systems in sleep mode.

Then—

“You know,” Jack murmured, voice low and surprisingly sincere, “this isn’t exactly where I pictured myself tonight.”

You turned your head.

“Where did you picture yourself?”

He gave a slow smile, eyes fixed on the ceiling.

“Anywhere else.”

The quiet between you was comfortable in a way you hadn’t expected. Jack’s words hung in the air, honest and raw, but then—

A sharp beep cut through the silence.

The AI’s voice returned, calm and mechanical: “Emergency lockdown protocol disabled. Vault unlocked.”

The heavy door slid open with a slow pneumatic hiss, spilling harsh light into the room. One of the security guards must have noticed you didn't sign out after 4 hours of what was supposed to be a one hour check-up.

Jack immediately sprang up, the familiar spark of mischief returning to his eyes.

“Well, that was fun,” he said with a grin, stepping toward the exit.

You scrambled to your feet, rubbing the numbness from your arms.

“Wait—”

Jack looked back over his shoulder, holding out a playing card; specifically, a queen of hearts.

He smirked. “In case you’re ever tempted to test another vault. Call me.”

You stared at the card—the only tangible thing he’d left behind.

Your fingers brushed the hastily written numbers.

Before you could say another word, Jack slipped past you like a shadow, already half out the door.

You called after him, but the hallway was empty.

Just like that, he was gone.

The sound of distant sirens approached, and you knew the police were close behind.

You stood there, the card heavy in your hand, and wondered if you’d ever see Jack Wilder again.

-

wc: 1.3k

[adnauseum11]

Listening Post (John Price x Reader)

John goes M.I.A, and all is not as it seems at first.

900 words

CW: swearing

feedback welcome!

You’re starting to get worried. It’s out of character for John to ignore you. Even when he was still on active duty, he would tell you if he was going to be in the field. He’d never compromise himself with any details but he’d at least let you know he was away. And he always let you know when he was back on grid, his simple ‘back here’ text enough to reassure you that he had made it home once again. You stand in your kitchen, gnawing a thumbnail and obsessively looking at your phone. 

He wasn’t in the field any more, and he shouldn't be away, you had plans to do Trivia Thursday night this week at the pub. He would have told you if he had left town. If you weren’t dating the wretched man, you would send him a text about being a miserable bastard and try him again the next day to see if his mood had improved. 

You scroll back in your texts, checking the timestamps. He’s never let a text go unanswered all day before. What kind of trouble could an ex-SAS Captain possibly get in to? He can take care of himself. Surely, he’s fine. He’s been in his share of fights. If the cops had picked him up for something, you would have got wind of it, you’re certain. You’re trying to convince yourself to remain calm, annoyingly something that’s normally John’s job between the two of you. 

You realize you’re going to spend the evening standing in the kitchen, agonizing in silence, so you resolve to sort the situation out one way or another. You pull on your jacket, thumbing through your phone to a ride share app. You find yourself in front of John’s flat less than 20 minutes later. His car is there, and instead of making you feel better you get a sinking sensation in your stomach. At least if he was away, you could tell yourself he was busy. Now it looks like he’s just dodging you. 

You let yourself in using the key he gave you years ago, knocking gently and calling for him. Nothing. No signs of life in the kitchen or living room. His neat flat looks immaculate. You’re heading down the hall when you hear low groaning. A flame of anger licks at your belly and you have to keep yourself from stomping the rest of the way down the hall. 

If he’s cheating on you before you’ve even had sex, you’re going to string him up by his balls. If you have to pay to find someone who knows how to do that, you will. It will be worth it – 

By the time you clear the doorway, you’ve convinced yourself of what you’re going to find. Even brace for it, your face screwed up into a wince. So, when it’s just John, sweating buckets and groaning in pain in the middle of his bed it takes you a full ten seconds to reboot your brain.

“What’s wrong?” You’re leaning over him, not bothering with pleasantries or admonishments now, running your hands over his face and chest with anxious movements. You’re instinctively looking for a wound of some sort before you can process your own actions. He squints at you, grabbing your hands and covering his eyes with your palms, curling towards you.

“My fucking head. Holy shit.” His voice is like gravel, and you wonder how long he’s been like this if he’s openly admitting to what ails him. You’re crawling into the bed, moving on autopilot despite never having seen him like this. John’s misery does not like company, thanks very much. But it seems those old rules of engagement for you both are shifting. You’re pillowing his head on your thighs, curling over him protectively and making sympathetic noises softly. As relieved as you are he’s not up to anything nefarious, guilt at it being a thought at all is hot on its heels.  

“A migraine?” 

He confirms with the tiniest tilt of his head, pressing his cheek into your thigh while you gently cup his forehead. He’s burning hot, sweaty to the touch. You’re stroking a palm over his hair slowly, easing him off your lap so you can run around his flat, gathering anything you can think of that might help - ice water in a bowl with a facecloth, a bottle of water, fruit from the bowl in his kitchen. He’s groaning again by the time you get back and arrange everything on his bedside table. 

You spend the rest of the night playing nurse, finally able to get more information out of the miserable man on what might make him feel better. The cool cloth helps, as does the darkness and gently stroking his scalp. You’re able to get him to lightly doze after a few hours of concentrated efforts. Grateful for the small stash of clothes and essentials John insisted you bring over a few days prior, you keep one eye on your sleeping patient while you change into pajamas. The thought of leaving him alone like this makes your stomach drop and your skin crawl, as does the slow realization he’s likely been dealing with these episodes alone for some time. 

You manage to crawl back into bed without disturbing him, resuming your slow stroking passes over his scalp. Your insides are wobbling dangerously, like you might fall into a heaving cry at any moment. You’re supremely grateful when exhaustion takes over, silencing any and all thoughts. 

Next Chapter

[queenvernage]

the only "reboot" of the power rangers series i wanna see EVER is a NEW, NORMAL ASS season featuring hitherto unknown actors and characters who don't acknowledge any Lore TM whatsoever (except MAYBE i could possibly give a pass to the words "morphin grid" being used ONE TIME or the casual mention of another ranger city).

i don't want any "once a ranger" stuff, i don't want any "power rangers hexagon" nonsense, and i DEFINITELY don't want a straightforward mmpr retelling or modernization (love u mmpr 2017, but we did that already).

just a REGULAR, silly, goofy super sentai localization with a teeny bit of flair and gratuitous puns. if you can't do that, put the tired, boring script down and step away from the distribution rights.

[kitty384]

Maximum Capacity: 5 Idiots and Me

Pairing: Gen (Y/N + Avengers – Found Family Chaos)

Summary: All Y/N wanted was to get to the kitchen. Instead, they get stuck in an elevator with Clint, Sam, Bruce, Scott, and Thor. Twenty-nine minutes of chaos, war songs, ABBA, elevator time-outs, and emotional support breathing exercises later… they might just survive this—and maybe even laugh about it.

Warnings: Claustrophobia, panic response, mild anxiety, stuck-in-an-elevator chaos, found family comfort, a LOT of unhinged Avengers energy.

The elevator jolts, lurches, and then completely stops.

The lights flicker. FRIDAY’s voice buzzes faintly, then cuts off with a spark-pop sound that makes everyone go dead silent.

“…Okay,” I say. “That’s not great.”

“Was that supposed to happen?” Scott Lang asks from somewhere behind me.

“No,” Bruce mutters. “No, it was not.”

“Great,” Clint sighs. “I told Stark we needed to upgrade the systems.”

“Clint, you tell Stark everything needs to be upgraded. You said that about the vending machine last week,” Sam says.

“It ate my quarters, Sam. That’s a crime.”

I press myself back against the metal wall, trying to breathe.

This isn’t… ideal.

Elevators already make me a little anxious. Small space. Nowhere to go. Too many people. But this? This is a lot of people.

Because, naturally, the universe decided I needed to get stuck in this elevator with Clint, Sam, Bruce, Scott, and Thor.

Yes. Thor.

All 6'6" of golden muscle, taking up half the elevator like a wall of literal sunshine and stormclouds.

“Okay,” Bruce says, calm and science-y, like he’s already calculating our doom. “We’re probably experiencing a simple power surge. Worst case, we’re here for thirty minutes while FRIDAY reboots the grid.”

“Thirty minutes?!” Scott squawks. “That’s like three eternities in elevator time!”

Clint makes a loud, suffering groan. “I knew I shouldn’t have skipped coffee for this meeting.”

Sam presses the call button again, then sighs and leans against the opposite wall, catching my eye. “You okay, kid?”

I nod too fast. “Yeah. Yeah, fine.”

“Liar,” Clint mutters.

Sam elbows him in the ribs. Clint wheezes.

“Deep breaths,” Bruce says, watching me gently. “You’re safe. We’re not falling. Everything’s locked into place.”

“Y/N,” Thor adds, booming like we’re in an auditorium instead of a 10x10 box. “If it brings you comfort, I once spent seven hours in a collapsed cavern with only a dead frost beast and half a flagon of mead.”

We all stare at him.

“I… don’t think that’s helpful,” Scott says.

Thor frowns. “You were meant to be reassured by my triumph over cramped quarters!”

I let out a slightly hysterical giggle.

I’m losing it.

Minute seven: Clint has opened the ceiling panel and is debating “Mission: Climb to Freedom.” Bruce threatens to sedate him. Sam bets five bucks Clint’s gonna fall.

Minute eleven: Thor has taken up humming a tune that I think is a war song but sounds suspiciously like the chorus of “Mamma Mia.” Scott joins in. It’s… shockingly catchy.

Minute fifteen: Clint: “Okay, real talk. Which Avenger would you marry if you had to?” Sam: “Absolutely not.” Clint: “Bruce?” Bruce: “I'm married to science. She’s very jealous.” Thor: “I would marry the sun if it would have me.” Clint: “That’s not an Avenger.” Thor: “It should be.” Clint: “Y/N?” Me: chokes on air and dies Sam: “She’s sixteen, you absolute feral forest raccoon.” Clint: “Technically I just asked a question—” Sam: “That’s it, next person who speaks gets put in elevator time-out.” Thor (raising hand): “What is an elevator time-out?” Scott: “I nominate myself.”

Minute twenty: Sam has taken control and is now organizing us into breathing exercises like we’re all about to deliver babies. I love him. I hate him. I’m confused.

Bruce suggests we play “Two Truths and a Lie” to pass time.

Thor’s turn: “I once arm-wrestled a Leviathan.” “I have a tattoo of Loki’s face on my thigh.” “I do not own a goat.”

Everyone stares.

“You absolutely own goats,” Sam says. Thor beams. “Correct! In fact, I have two!” Clint mutters, “Why is that the least weird part of this entire game?”

Somewhere around minute twenty-five, the elevator lurches again.

I flinch hard enough that I accidentally grab Sam’s arm. He doesn’t even blink—just immediately takes my hand in his, squeezes gently.

“I’ve got you,” he says quietly, so the others don’t hear. “It’s okay.”

I nod, my heart still hammering.

It’s not really the elevator.

It’s being stuck. Trapped. That familiar edge of panic that sneaks in when I don’t feel in control.

But Sam’s voice is steady. Warm.

I focus on that.

Minute twenty-nine: Scott has eaten the emergency granola bar from Clint’s jacket and Clint is furious. Bruce looks so done. Thor has named the elevator Stormbox. Sam is absolutely reconsidering all his life choices. I’m… actually kind of okay.

And then the lights flicker again.

FRIDAY’s voice returns. “Power restored. Apologies for the inconvenience. Elevator service resuming now.”

We all blink as the car jerks softly and begins to move.

Clint drops to his knees. “Praise be.”

The doors slide open.

And we’re… free.

We all stumble out like survivors of some strange sitcom crossover.

Thor claps me on the back with a grin. “You were very brave, Y/N!”

I nearly collapse from the force of it, but I nod. “Thanks. You too. Big sun energy.”

He beams like I just crowned him king of Earth.

Scott says, “Hey, if you ever wanna be stuck in a hallway instead, I’m starting a petition.”

Bruce just sighs and walks away.

Sam waits until the others drift off before turning to me. “You sure you’re good?”

I nod. For real this time. “Yeah. That was… weird. But kind of fun?”

Sam raises an eyebrow. “You did just sing ABBA with a Norse god.”

I grin. “Add that to the trauma recovery checklist?”

He nudges my shoulder. “Only if we can make it a duet next time.”

Masterlist

Request

[artbyblastweave]

I'm really sorry but that Paperinik New Adventures ask made my infodumping senses tingle, sorry in advance.

So, one thing you should know first and foremost is that Donald Duck is HUGE in Italy. There's a weekly magazine that has gone on for decades, with 100% original stories (usually about 50% on Mickey Mouse & Goofy, 50% on Donald Duck & duck cast) - and a lot of Italian artists and writers that have contributed to them.

However, while the regular magazine can get pretty weird at times and has a bunch of multi-arc stories and recurring plots (like "Mickey & Goofy go back in time to help historians" or "Donald and Fethry are forced by Scrooge to be his corporate spies with loads of gizmos and gadgets", just to cite my favorites from the 2000s or so), a bunch of artists got together and thought, can we make an ongoing story with much longer episodes, with an artstyle and tone that's totally new to Disney comics, borrowing from American comics but with our own spin? And also it slaps and has a mohawk-and-fireblasts alien, and an entire race of emotion-sucking cocoon-grown aliens, and timetraveling androids, and a surprising amount of philosophical bullshit? And they did, oh my god, they did.

Donald being a superhero (Paperinik aka Duck Avenger) has already been explored in the regular Disney comics (there's a LOT of stories featuring him - from his start as more of a antihero pranking rogue, to his shift to more typically heroic pursuits, as some kinda batman & spiderman unholy hybrid with quips, gadgets and intimidation) - but PKNA adds a lot of unique lore and pretty much 99% original characters, as well as more "out there" enemies and world building (aliens, time travel, androids, also for some reason Tibetan monks with superpowers). And the art style was really quite peculiar, especially if (like me at the time) one is used to the regular grid of panels and cheerful colors used in most Disney comics. A lot of choices were made deliberately to stand apart from them, and IMO they succeeded.

I'd say it was quite successful when coming out in the 90s, at least in Italy - Disney comics are huge here in general, but mostly read by primary school kids, while PKNA is more of a middle school & high school kinda comic I'd say, so it captured kids that were just starting to grow out of regular Disney comics.

However just like most of the Italian Disney comics, PKNA was fairly big in Europe, but unheard of in the US (and I get it, y'all don't grow up with them in the same way - here you literally cannot escape them, they're in all the newspaper stands and often there's a bunch of old numbers stashed in every home that has ever had a kid around). So in the English speaking world it's pretty much unknown.

BTW if you DO decide to read it, its about 50 issues for the original series (start with the zero numbers tho) - and I'd stop with that, the sequel series is kinda unfinished and the reboot is imo not as good, though they do have their moments (shout out to the psychic girl who mind controls homeless people in a very disturbing storyline).

That's all I had to say (I hope!), sorry again for infodumping!! I read the word Paperinik and I just blacked out, and awoke having written this ask.

Nothing to add on this one, thanks for the infodump

[liedownquisition]

One thing that frustrates me sometimes is that the premise of the original RHATO team joining up together would not... take a lot to be made into something actually decent. Respect for the characters, really. Keep Kori's amnesia, keep Roy's isolation, but nudge the script a little:

Jason is vaguely familiar to Kori, because canonically they DID meet at least once when he was Robin (ignoring n52's everything tbh, the continuity still confuses me sometimes esp when some writers couldnt decide whether ot not 52 was a reboot or if they were going to keep referencing prior shit), but she doesn't remember, just has vague vibes and maybe he can help her with that if they knew each other? And Jason could try to help with what he can but he barely knew her, really. He's agonized bcs the only person he knows who might maybe help is Dick and he's Very Deliberately Estranged from the Bats.

Enter a tip from Talia. Maybe Jason reached out asking about the Titans, maybe she knows where he is and came to the conclusion that interacting with non-Bat heroes that he had a decently positive relationship before his death would be beneficial to him.

Roy's been off-grid since some time after Lian's death, pushing away everyone and deliberately running headfirst into things that could kill him. They're planning to televise his execution, but don't want to risk him getting rescued before that, but they can't hide from her spies. It solves a lot of problems then, doesn't it? Jason and Kori rescue him and he can help her with her memories and/or get her back in touch with the rest of their old team to help and Jason doesn't have to deal with any Bats himself.

But then they don't leave.

Kori's pretty content as she is, with people who know and have been helping her. Her memory loss isn't exactly life-threatening or anything and she's not in any hurry. Roy took one look at the two of them and came to the conclusion that he could help here, help both of them, and they won't judge him for what he's done or try to force him to reconnect with anyone before he was ready to face them/reality (if ever).

And Jason? Jason's a wounded animal snapping at anyone and anything that tries to come too close and covering up his own issues by fucking with shitty ppl & ruining their day. It's a bit of a challenge to make him chill out, but neither of the other two are afraid of that and he's already done all this to help them so why not return the favor?

Jason's the "leader", not because he's more qualified to lead a team but because he needs the feeling of being in control. There's only three of them and there's enough power & experience between them to compensate if anything goes off the rails & Roy's fluent enough in Bat from all his history with Dick to nudge Jason a little to the left if he has to. It's halfway between babysitting and a vacation.

(Amusingly this gave me the mental image of Roy & Kori in beach gear slurping colorful mocktails and Jason running around on an adult-sized child leash.)

You could even keep Roy/Kori, build it up slightly more, ect., ect. Just make it an actual relationship & not turning Kori into a sex doll lmao. I mean they were friends! Even without Dick they were friends with Each Other! & sometimes friendships can get sexual or turn into relationships!

None of this fixes like the racism & such in a bunch of the plot but that's a speech for whole different post I think, and I'm honestly not sure if I've got the chops to redesign all that. At the very least, it would be too big of a distraction from everything else I'm already easily distracted from working on lmao.

[archives-of-iacon]

DELAYED COMMUNIQUE — OFFICIAL NOTICE

Timestamp: [Cycle 8809.06.41 // Unit 21:07 Solar Adjust] Subject: Re: Clarification Regarding Misrouted Outreach Message

Esteemed users of the Archives of Iacon,

We extend our sincerest apologies for the delay in a formal follow-up regarding the accidental public release of an internal Outreach draft. The message in question was not intended for public release, and its transmission was the result of a data-pad routing malfunction compounded by operator misidentification of the “send” field.

Rest assured, a fully approved and appropriately reviewed version of the announcement will be made available within the next several groons, following standard clearance protocols and a thorough retraining session for the party responsible (Senior Archivist Veltrax, who regrets everything).

Unfortunately, immediate response and damage control were significantly hindered by the cascading effects of:

A full system reboot of the Administrative Comm-Grid

Several overlapping protocol audits triggered simultaneously

The emergency restoration of Archive Terminal 7C (which briefly believed it was part of Kaon’s Civic Theater Network)

The Outreach interns attempting to “fix it themselves” with a fusion welder, three empty energon cans, and a hashtag

The backlog of resulting paperwork was, frankly, apocalyptic in scale.

The Outreach and Engagement Subdivision has been temporarily reassigned to non-networked duties (specifically, scroll digitization and relic brush-cleaning), though they remain insufferably proud of what they’ve dubbed their “meteoric debut” and “accidental marketing triumph.”

In light of recent developments, the Archives Administration has instituted a temporary moratorium on all unsupervised access to publishing channels by personnel ranked below Curatorial Tier Three. A new series of interdepartmental workshops titled “Social Interfaces and You: Why Buttons Matter” will commence shortly.

We thank you for your patience and understanding during this difficult time, as well as the frankly alarming amount of commentary submitted in response to this incident.

— The Archives Administration

Post-finalization cleared by Elixion, Acting Head Archivist (after six groons of delays and one broken terminal).

[lesb0]

I am honestly so heartbroken about Michelle Trachtenberg. I cried so much and still feel so sad. she was my second crush, and the longest I've ever had. she was harriet the spy and the ice princess and buffys magic baby sister. she was georgina sparks. she was THE 2000s. its so sad to me that nobody outside of those who watched the new GG really noticed the situation, but people are posting memorials of her only as a teen because she vanished off the grid around 2015. nobody had seen or photographed her. this isn't a misogyny situation where people call someone ugly for aging. she was visibly suffering.

when she came back for the 2022 GG reboot, everyone was shocked that Georgina looked very weak and sickly, even with the hair and makeup and lighting, she was pallid and RAPIDLY wasting away. I could not recognize her and triple checked the imdb for both her episodes to make sure she wasn't replaced by a lookalike. not just gossip sites, but the celeb news media were also scared for her, requesting an answer for years, until she finally addressed it in 2024, claiming that she was healthy. so when you see memorial posts of her as a teen, its because that is the last time anyone had seen her out in the world and looking like herself.

[kimberlyannharts]

The one critique I do agree with re: the new MMPR toys is that it would probably feel a little more justified to do all this alongside like. an actual new show. Even just an MMPR reboot. Especially considering these toys seemed to be made specifically for young kids, and other Power Rangers stuff out right now is more for older audiences; or at least not JUST for young kids (the comics, Heroes of the Grid, Rita's Rewind, the upcoming YA novel)

[talonabraxas]

The Pleiades Portal From May 16-24, galactic frequencies from the Pleiades merge with our own Sun and are then beamed down to Earth.

The Sun represents the core of who we are, so in a way, we are also receiving Pleiadean wisdom straight into the core of our being.

The brightest of all the stars in the Pleiades is Alcyone, and when our Sun aligns with this bright star, the portal reaches its full peak. This occurs on May 20-21, 2022.

Pleiadean Messages for the Planet

This message was channeled May 12, 2020, however it still holds true for this year too!

When this portal or gateway opens, a large beam filled with countless different rays of purple light will shine down onto your planet.

You think of Earth as a sphere suspended in the Galaxy, but this is not how we see your planet. We see your planet as a collection of grids, a network of electrical pulses.

As we shine this light onto your Planet, it enhances the already present grids of love, healing, softness, compassion, and beauty.

We don’t want you to think that Earth is a dying place that has lost its way, it is not! It is a thriving place. If you could see it through our eyes, you would see its beauty, its magnificence, its splendor!

See its beauty and it will reveal more of its beauty to you. The Earth is always listening, ask and you will be shown!

Our work of sending this light enhances what is already there. We don’t send this light to change Earth- we send it to support the changes it is making on its own.

We want you to know that in the next seven years, Earth will bloom a new flower and the full story of right now can be written.

Be patient while your planet reboots and recharges! Be patient with yourselves too! Time is an earthly construct which means you can give yourself as much or as little of it as you want!

This beam of light is not just for your Mother but for you too.

This beam of purple light will be sent to most of you through the crown of your head, but for others, you will receive it through your belly button, midback, or the bottom of your feet.

You may wonder why this is so. Neither way to receive is better than the other, you are just all different! Your energetic systems are all wired differently, so see if you can feel into where your own receiving point may be.

Again, this beam of purple light we send is not to change you, but to enhance the levels of love, healing, softness, compassion, and beauty that is already present in you.

This purple beam will support you in thinking in a more open, loving, and hopeful way about your life and the life of your fellow humans.

Our beam of light will slowly fade as Earth absorbs the energy. This takes about seven days. As Earth and its people get more receptive, this process can be sped up!

Use the energy of the Pleiades Portal, to know that there is a better and richer way to live your life that is not dependent on your outward circumstances or any of the limiting beliefs you tell yourself.

We all have our own hurdles to climb, but these are your destiny, which means you always have the answers you seek to move through them.