#so far got like £60 in total

[thetimelordbatgirl]

Grunkle Stan going MONEYYYY while grabbing gold and running out of the room at this point is me with my BD money.

[the-kipsabian]

tomorrow is such an important day, im a mcfucking nervous anxious wreck already gOD

[lady-grace-pens]

I watched Breakfast at Tiffany’s for the first time this morning and I can’t stop thinking about how much I hated it. I can’t figure out why. But I also watched the first part of Barry Lyndon and I’m really into it so there’s that too

Rant in tags because I have thoughts and opinions

[zwei-rhunen]

hmm, maybe there's yet a use for my tomestones after all

[noxiwrites]

Forbidden

Synopsis ˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪

The new teaching assistant is too hot for his own good, distracting most of the girls in your class.You're not too bothered by him, he's just another pretty face- until you get pulled by him for failing the class. It's every girls wet dream, getting taught by the hot new teacher- and you find yourself slowly falling into a sickly sweet situation.

Warnings ˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪

Age gap, inappropriate touching, arguments, angst, eventual smut, obsession, hidden relationship, public sex.

Word count ˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪

2.9k

Add yourself to my tag list | Masterlist

I II III IV V

You’re going out. You’re not quite sure how you’ve let Molly drag you out, convincing you that you just need to drink a bit and clear up some head space from what’s been happening recently. Once you told her what had happened, and how you’d stopped again, she’d be adamant that you just needed to see what ‘competition’ was out there- aka, all the ‘ugly boys in town have nothing on Rafe’ and then you’d be okay shagging him.

“Do I look okay?” You ask her, standing in front of the mirror as she applies the final bit of her lipstick. Molly scoffs, rolling her eyes at you.

“Are you kidding? It’s any girls wet dream to look like you, yes you look okay.”

She finishes her lipstick and you take a step back, looking at your outfit one final time before you’re being dragged out of your apartment and to Ryan’s car outside. He doesn’t drink, you’ve discovered, so he’ll happily drop you and Molly off and pick you up once you’re finished. You both clamber into the back seat, adjusting your skirt once you’re sat and listening to Molly talk her boyfriends ear off.

It’s not long before he pulls up at the side of the road, wishing you both a fun time as Molly is practically dragging you out of the car and into the bar right next to it. It’s Friday night, loud, lots of people pushing around and you eye the crowd.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” You yell over the music, as Molly looks over at you, gaze hardened. She’s still got her hand wrapped around your arm as she drags you up to the bar, waiting to be served.

You have a look around. There’s plenty of guys here who aren’t that bad looking, yet you’re just not interested. Molly hands you a glass of something that you don’t bother to question as she leads to over to a table in a far corner, a bit further away from the crowds. You take a seat, face crinkling when you take a sip of your drink and it’s straight vodka.

Molly giggles at you spluttering, taking a sip of her own drink. “So, you need to tell me more about Rafe. You can’t just tell me you’ve kissed him and think I’m okay not knowing more,” she leans forward on the palm of her hand.

“It literally was just a kiss, Mol. He touched me a little but I froze up before he could do anything else,” she nods, staring at you like she’s expecting more.

“Go on,” she says, and you’re not quite sure what else she wants from you, so you say the only thing that comes to mind.

“When I told him to stop, he turned 60 degrees on me, like he thought I regretted it or something,”

Molly takes another sip of her drink. “Doll, that man is totally obsessed with you! Of course he’s gonna be upset when you tell him to stop something he thought you were both enjoying.”

You were enjoying it, you think- the way you reacted to him would tell you exactly that. You can’t, though, get it out of your head that he’s your teacher.

“I don’t know Mol, it just seems weird because he’s our teacher,” she raises an eyebrow at you.

“Teaching assistant. Maybe that’s what’s stopping you, the thought of shagging a teaching assistant even though he’s hot,” the crowd gets especially loud after her statement and you look up, half expecting everyone in the bar to be listening in and judging you- but they’re just watching some sport on the tv.

You sigh, swirling your straw in your drink as you think about it. If that’s the bit that’s holding you back, then how do you get around it? Molly reaches over the table, grabbing your hand.

“Girl, don’t worry. Tonight I’m gonna convince you that it’s okay to shag him, hand on heart,” she smirks at you, raising her glass and clinking it against your own. The notion brings a smile to your face.

So far, Molly has had a great time convincing you that all the other guys in town aren’t worth your time- and so far, it’s working. You’ve had three guys try their luck and each time, you’ve turned them down.

You’re sat in the fifth bar of the night, feeling a little tipsy from whatever Molly has been passing you to drink, and you’re actually enjoying yourself. You're thinking more and more about Rafe- about how he looks, how he smells, how he acts.

It’s confusing you, you’ll admit- you’re not sure what exactly it is about him that makes you so nervous. You’re not grabbing for his attention like everyone else in class- yet you find yourself slowly wishing to see him more and more. You’re not quite sure what to make of those feelings, or how to even put them into words for Molly to give you advice.

Five minutes later, Molly comes back from the bathroom, phone in hand. “I’m so sorry babe, I’ve got to go- Ryan’s had a bit of an emergency.” You nod your head, downing your drink with her before hugging her goodbye. She turns to leave, before turning back to you.

“Are you gonna get home okay?” She asks, and you swallow, standing on shaky legs. You’re a little more drunk than you thought.

“Yeah- I- I should be fine,” you muster out, smiling at your friend. She raises an eyebrow, contemplating, before giving you a kiss on the cheek and rushing out the bar.

You decide to wait a few minutes before exiting yourself, pushing the bar door and being blasted by the cold night air. It makes you regret wearing so little, as you pull your phone out of your bag and opening Uber.

Molly is already long gone, the sidewalk littered with other drunk people. It’s currently seven o’clock, already dark- and people are drunk. You scoff, realising you’re just as bad as everyone else.

You stand, looking at the prices to go to your home when an idea pops into your head. Campus is still open, and most of the teachers stay late on Friday so they don’t have to work weekends.

You could, in theory, go see Rafe. While you’re not level headed- while you’re not thinking straight, because you’ll be able to speak easier and maybe even move a little further with him.

Maybe. Maybe doesn’t stop drunk you from selecting your building on campus, and climbing inside the Uber when he pulls up in front of you. You hiccup as the Uber pulls away, and he looks at you through the rear view mirror.

“Fun night love?” He asks and you smile.

“Yeah, not been bad,”

He clears his throat, turning onto the Main Street that leads to campus. “And you’re headed to the university now? Why’s that?”

You smile again, looking down at your nails. “I’m going to see my boyfriend, he’s working late,”

The words fall from your lips and you don’t even mind them, drunken stupor fueling you along. The driver nods as he pulls into the campus, navigating the windy roads before you see your building and he pulls into the car park. You thank him as he stops and he wishes you a goodnight as you shut the door and watch him drive away.

You breath out, wrapping your flimsy little cardigan around you as you turn to face the building. You’ve no time for normal thoughts as you see Rafe’s classroom light is on and you grin, slightly stumbling as you walk towards the front doors of the building.

The hallways are quiet, apart from the clicking of your heels as you make your way towards the door of your class. You’re thinking about all the possibilities, all the outcomes of what might happen. You know you’re tipsy, but you’d remember every second of tonight.

You hiccup, giggling as you think about Rafe’s biceps, hand hovering above the handle of the door, when you finally look through the little window on the door.

And your heart stops. You think this is the fastest you’ve sobered up, blinking your eyes a few times to make sure you’re seeing what you’re seeing. It’s not a mirage. No smoke screens.

Rafe’s sat in his chair, legs spread, chin resting on the palm of his hand as Kendra sits cross legged on his desk, holding something out of your view. You can see her twirling her hair around her finger, and Rafe laughs at something she says. You can’t swallow. You breathe out, shallow and ragged, the all too familiar feeling of bile rising in your throat.

Why does this bother you so much? Why do you want to cry, want to scream, want to rip her head off her shoulders? You’re not sure.

You’re frozen on the spot, watching as she pushes his shoulder back and he swings around in his chair, smile on his face. You’re locked onto the two of them, unable to shift your eyes- until you see the smile drop from Rafe’s face, his eyes gazing directly back into your own. Kendra turns, looking at what Rafe is looking at, and when she sees you, she smirks.

Like she’s proud.

“I won, bitch,” she mouths, and you finally unfreeze. A tear slips down your cheek and you’re mad you’re crying over a guy you’ve kissed once. Once. And he started it. That, somehow, makes it worse. You turn, setting a quick pace back down the hall. You hear the door open behind you, barely, but nothing else when your ears are ringing this loud.

Why is it bothering you that much? Why?

You swing the front doors of the building open, out into the cold, which has started a spout of pelting rain, really adding to the way you feel. Your ears are blaring at you as you walk down the sidewalk, pulling your phone out of your bag and tapping the screen, ordering an Uber to pick you up at the end of the block.

A hand reaches for you, grasping your arm and spinning you. It’s Rafe, to your displeasure, saying something to you. His mouth is moving, but you’re not hearing him.

“Will you just stop? It’s not what it looks like,” you make out and you scoff, ripping your arm from his grasp. You shrug, ignoring the way you want to cry, trying to act indifferent. You should have known better.

The ringing subsides as you continue to walk down the sidewalk, hearing Rafe’s footsteps behind you, his voice sounding like background noise. You turn.

“I’m not bothered about what you’re got to say, to be honest. You can go,” you say, turning around again. You can see your Uber from where you are and you speed up a little, hoping to make it to the car before you’re completely soaked.

“Look- let me explain, please,” he all but begs, and you’re sure you can hear the desperation in his tone. You don’t give him the pleasure of seeing your face crumple, wanting to give in.

“I don’t care Rafe. It’s not like we’re together, you can see who you want.” You reach your Uber and feel his fingers slide against your arm, leaving a tingle- but you’re too quick, opening the door and sliding inside the backseat, telling the driver you’re ready to go.

When you’re pulling away, you look over your shoulder out of the window to see him still stood in the rain, watching the car pull away.

You can’t believe you could have been so stupid. How could you have not seen? It should have been so obvious to you, so fucking obvious- but you were gullible, stupid. You let yourself believe tonight that he wanted you, and for the first time, you knew you wanted him too.

The Uber pulls up outside your estate and you thank the driver, using your card to get into the side gate as you walk around to your flat. With shaky hands, you open the door and are greeted by whiskers, who meows at you from the hallway table. You smile down at him, scratching between his ears.

“You’re the only guy who won’t let me down, huh?” He blinks up at you slowly as you sigh, giving him a final scratch before dropping your keys into the bowl and taking your heels off, padding down the hall.

Whiskers follows as you head into your bedroom, taking off your soaked clothes and wrapping yourself in a towel to dry off, finding some old clothes to change into.

You chuck your phone onto your bed, taking a seat on the edge. Your head falls into your hands, breathing deeply as the scene flashes through your mind again. And again. And again.

Even when you try to sleep, it plays. Kendra’s mocking words haunt you, even in deep sleep- and you wake up in the morning, feeling heavy. Despite the lack of good sleep, you get up, getting yourself ready for work.

You feed whiskers, wishing him a good day before leaving the house. You see a flash of red on your doorstep and you back up, pulling your key from the lock.

Red roses. A dozen, along with a box with a bow on the top. They’re wet, a card stuck in the top of the roses soggy as you pick them up and read the card.

All it says is sorry, but somehow, you know who they’re from- and it makes you wonder how he knows where you live. Or how he got in. You scoff, walking down your front path to the bin and chucking it all in, before unlocking your car and heading to work.

It’s a slow day in the coffee shop, despite it being a Saturday. You’re exhausted, messing up orders and just being overall clumsy. Lots of familiar faces come and go, and you hate seeing people you know when you’re at work.

You’re stood at the counter, drawing up some signs for some new treats when the bell above the door chimes.

“Welcome in, what can I get for you?” You ask, out of instinct, not looking up as you finish the last parts of the last sign.

“I’ll have a black coffee and your number, please,” you recognise the voice and flutter your eyes up, to see Tobey stood at the counter, smiling down at you. You blush, processing his order.

“Six dollars, please,” he plucks his wallet from his pocket and hands you a twenty, and you give him his change before making his coffee. When you hand it to him, he inspects the cup before looking back at you.

“My order is wrong,” he says, and you furrow your eyebrows, confused. “Oh? How so?”

He grins down at you. “I haven’t got your number yet.”

You roll your eyes, turning around to slot the sign into the baking tray with the right sweets. “Have a nice day, Tobey,” you sigh, picking the tray up and walking it over to the big display. You don’t hear the door bell again and glance over to see him watching you.

You observe him back. He’s not bad looking, dark brown hair falling in a neat fringe over his forehead, green eyes and a fairly sharp jaw. Today, he’s wearing some sweats and a hoodie, different from the jeans you remember last time.

You sigh, walking back to the counter and looking up at him expectantly. “Can I help you?”

“Yeah. Let me take you out,” he responds straight away, taking a sip of his coffee. He smiles, holding it out. “This is good, thank you.”

You’ll admit, this is a different side to him from what you saw in class that time. Yeah, he’s still as persistent, but he’s been nicer about it this time.

“I don’t know,” you begin, trailing off as you stare out of the window, images of last night flashing through your head again. It angers you, pisses you off, to even think about thinking about it.

“Cmon, just one? If you don’t like it, then fair enough. I’ll back off.” He tells you, running a hand through his hair. You weigh out your options, contemplating what could happen. And then you remember last night again.

“Okay, what the hell. I’ll give you my number and you can pick me up sometime.”

Note ˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪

Helloooooo 🫶🏻 sorry this took me so long I’ve been at work 😪 anyway, I’ve just watched the new Noah beck movie, Sidelined, and was wondering if any of you guys would be interested in me writing something for Rafe inspired by that? Love yas, let me know what you think 🥰

Check out a teaser for a new series here <3

Tags ˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪

4Everything

@dudenhaaa27 @outerbankspov @ayy1234567 @rxfecameronsslut @potter-head-phanatic @lilithblackkk @akobx @nina357 @percysley @kundaquarius @elyseesarchive @purplerose291 @saturneni @rafedaddy01 @cnnamongrl @blowbunny @hoelesslyt @rafesdoe @ilovefiction4lmen @supernaturalwriter @wh0re4drewstarkeu @fals3-g0d @unsaidjaelinrose

Just forbidden

@masonmountme69 @noobmazter69 @amaranth-writing @rafecameronswifeyy @hwaaholic @slutxuall @innocentmindedgirl @casoro1626 @hugposey @rafesgiirl @jaymesmaud @littlewhiterose @vanngguk @yeslifeofateen @trapistani @pillowprincess4him @jodecivantee @10ava01

[withahappyrefrain]

Ok hear me out. I just saw your 60 Meet Cutes list and, I know you already technically kind of wrote a fic about Bob being high off his meds after a training exercise puts him in the hospital. But I saw #5) A is a doctor/nurse treating B for an injury, but B won't stop flirting, and all I can think of is Bobby high of his rocker following an injury/surgery after a training exercise gone wrong and all he keeps doing is flirt with his doctor. And the dagger squad was visiting him post-surgery and they’re all cackling from the normally quiet Bob rizzing up his doctor. And then maybe that’s how he meets his wife 😂

Working at the Naval Medical Center meant several things.

One, there would always be patients. Whether it was the soldiers themselves or their family. Primary care, immediate care, your workplace did it all.

Second, no injury was too abnormal. A patient’s needs could range from needing a sling due to falling in the middle of bootcamp to delivering a baby.

Third and most importantly, don’t fall for a patient. The chances of them being married were high, plus it made things complicated.

You were doing a great job at following all three. Until today.

Lieutenant Commander Robert Floyd was a WSO for the Navy. He and his pilot had to eject from their jet during training due to a bird strike. While he got out of the jet okay, it was the landing that got him. His left arm was definitely sprained and he had a fractured rib. Combined with all the bruising that littered his left side, needless to say he was in a lot of pain. Thankfully, he didn’t need surgery, but he did need quite the cocktail of pain medication.

No amount of bruising could hide his handsome face. It was the first thing you noticed when you walked into his room. His long lashes fanned his face. Faded freckles scattered across his face and neck, like constellations. You had seen him before, visiting other pilots and checking in on their family members. Even spoke to him a few times when he asked how they were doing. But never anything in depth.

When he was first brought in, he was barely conscious. You had explained to him what was happening, that they were putting him under to do a full body inspection. He had looked up at you with those big blue eyes and God, he was just so cute. You could admire how cute a patient was, nothing wrong with that, right?

At the sound of the door opening, his eyelids fluttered open, revealing eyes bluer than sapphires.

“Hi Mr. Floyd. Are you doing alright?” Your voice was lithe and gentle, he was still waking up after all. He mumbled something in response.

“What was that Mr. Floyd?” Moving closer, you hoped you could hear him better. It totally wasn’t to admire how cute he was. No, not at all.

“’m Bob,” His words were slow, but clearer, “Mr. Floyd’s my dad.”

“Bob it is,” you couldn’t help but giggle, “I’m just checking in on you, see if the medication is working. I’m going to help you sit up, alright?”

Bob nodded, his eyes never leaving your face. Placing your chart down on the nightstand, you gingerly helped him sit up, just enough to do your job.

“This is an important day f’me,” there was a slight twang, complimenting the richness of his voice.

“Oh really now?” Already, you were creating a list of possibilities; birthday, partner’s birthday, anniversary-

“Yeah. Not every day you’re touched by an angel,” a soft, droopy smile graced his face as he looked up at you.

Oh.

It was far from the first time a patient had flirted with you. But it was the first time it had sent a warm rush throughout your body.

“That’s um, very kind of you Mr. Floyd-”

“Bob,” he corrected.

“That’s very kind of you Bob. But I’m no angel. I’m actually about to do some things that may hurt,” you warned.

Bob was quite coherent while you checked his vitals. He answered all your questions with great ease, even had some questions for you. It felt more like a first date than checking a patient-

No, you couldn't think like that.

“Alright Bob, it's time to check your injuries. Let me know if any of the places I touch cause me pain,” you warned.

His brows furrowed in concern, “But I…I haven't taken you out to dinner yet.”

Holy shit, he was darling.

You began at his shoulders. He watched your nimble fingers move about. “You don’t have a ring,” he stated. Probably should have asked that before referencing taking you on a date but again. Meds.

“Um no, I don’t.” Usually pain medication would cause some patients to be blunt, to make odd statements. Usually, you could ignore it and continue on with your responsibilities.

“Well that’s stupid. How has someone not married you yet?” Just ignore him, just keep working.

“Well,” you laughed nervously, “That is a whole can of worms that I doubt you want open. Does it hurt here Bob?”

“No. But how has someone not married you yet? You’re so sweet and smart and patient, also funny too. I still laugh when I think about how you told Jake to sit down and shut up a few months ago. What am I not getting?”

“Well,” you sighed, “For starters, I work long and unusual hours.”

“So do I,” He replied. His body was deceivingly muscular, smooth and firm. Not even a hospital gown could hide it and holy crap, that was so inappropriate.

“So as a result, not a lot of people see me as dateable. I also just moved to the area less than a year ago and it’s been hard finding people,” you confessed, trying to swallow the bitter pill as you moved to his arms. It was easier since you had his huge biceps to focus on.

“Well, those people are stupid. If you care about someone, you’d make it work.”

“I wish more people thought like that. How is it here? Any pain?” You slightly dug your fingers into his sides, watching his face for any reaction. Bob Floyd either had a high pain tolerance or he was high as balls. You guessed it was the latter, given how he could barely shake his head.

“Is there any part of your body that’s in pain Bob?” You asked, fighting the urge to push back the strands of sandy brown hair that had fallen over his forehead. Bob nodded and grabbed your hand. He placed it over his heart.

“Your-your heart?” Panic rose in your voice, if he was experiencing pain in his chest, that meant you needed to alert the cardiologist and the-

“Doesn’t so much as hurt. Just starts beating real fast whenever I see you. I also forget how to breathe when I see ya too, but I know that’s due to your beauty,” He explained, giving your hand a gentle squeeze.

Without breaking eye contact, he brought your hand up to his mouth and kissed your wrist. His lips were soft and warm. You were a goner. Yes, it was all slightly cheesy and it totally worked. You prayed he couldn’t tell that you were flustered, that your body felt warm all over, that butterflies were exploding in your stomach.

“Since when the fuck do you have game Bobby?” You were thankful for the voice that interrupted. Turning around, you saw a group of pilots standing at the doorway, holding cards and flowers.

“Um, are you friends of Lieutenant Floyd?” Even your voice was shaky, the professional composure that always got you compliments in med school now completely gone.

“We’re friends, and I apologize for my coworker’s outburst,” You recognized the mustached pilot, having seen him a few months ago when his wife delivered their first child. Lieutenant Bradshaw.

“Oh please, I know you’re just as shocked as I am to see Bob finally making a move on the woman he’s been crushing on for months,” The blonde pilot retorted, completely oblivious to the glares he was receiving from the other pilots.

“I said I was waiting for the right time!” Bob hadn’t let go of your hand, “I know it should have been sooner. I’m sorry.”

“Um, Lieutenant Floyd isn’t ready for visitors yet. Could you please move to the waiting area?” Letting go of Bob’s hand caused him to form an adorable pout with his pink lips.

Once the group has gotten out of your hair, you look around the room, frazzled. Grabbing his chart, you began checking things off.

“Alright, minimal pain though we’ll check again later when your medication has worn off. Heart rate is normal, as is your blood pressure and-”

“I'm sorry,” looking up, there was Bob with a concerned expression written all over his face.

“Oh Mr. Floyd, you're fine. I know you're on a lot of different medications and that causes people to act-”

“I shouldn't have waited so long to talk to you. Was just so nervous because you're so beautiful and kind.”

Good lord, this man was going to be the death of you. The fact he was so sweet, so endearing when he said all these things. It didn't feel sleazy, it felt genuine.

But it couldn't be that. It was due to the medicine. So you'd just have to play along.

“Don't worry about it Bob. There's always tomorrow. Or, in your case, three days after tomorrow.” The comment got a laugh out of Bob, revealing a melodic giggle.

“You mean it? I can ask you out after I rest?” His eyes were now full of hope and excitement.

Nodding, you decided to not add if you remember it. Once the pain medication had worn off, Bob wouldn't remember a thing.

But his friends mentioned a crush that had been developing long before today.

Maybe…..

*************

“I am so sorry.”

You stopped dead in your tracks, surprised to find Bob sitting up in the hospital bed, face redder than a tomato.

“Um, good morning Bob! How are we feeling today?” You walked over to the bed, looking at his vitals.

“Mortified. The way I acted towards you yesterday was so…..God, I'm so embarrassed,” he buried his face into his hands, “If I've- scratch that, I know I offended you yesterday. I made you so uncomfortable and I'm so sorry.”

You thought about his friends’ words, what they said when you came out of the room.

“Yeah, he’s usually not that….bold. But honestly, good for him, he’s been pining after you for months.”

“Without all those meds, he’s still sweet. Just not as talkative.”

Bob continued to ramble, failing to notice how you were using the clipboard to hide a huge grin, “My momma would be so ashamed of me right now. My sisters would be smacking me upside the head. You’re a doctor and a darn good one at that and I just acted like such a…..why are you smiling?”

“Because I think you’re cute. Like super, incredibly cute. I've thought that ever since I saw you here four months ago to check on Lieutenant Garcia.” Your confession made Bob's eyes widen.

“And I was hoping that after you’ve had your three days of mandated rest, maybe we could go out to dinner?” You paused, “Now that I think about it, we should wait four to five days. I’d feel really bad if I caused a patient to reinjure himself.”

A slightly crooked and small smile appeared on Bob’s face, “Do you like Italian food?”

[applepieshy]

I had an idea to redesign vox because I didn't love that a character obsessed with modernization would wear a top hat and bowtie. then after a brief stint into madness where I read my partner's historic costuming textbook I drew.... all this.

(side note: the idea of vox being a trans man who transitioned AFTER death was super compelling and absolutely inspired by @prince-liest so while this is not direct fanart of their series I wanted to give a shoutout anyway!!!)

okay some TRULY unhinged rambling about historic costume below the cut YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!

1950s: for this design I very much did not want to go to the typical a-line housewife look, because I feel that is unfitting for vox's character. instead I went for a more business look, but there is still a level of femininity that he would have been expected to perform. i wanted to express his discomfort with that through the pose and expression, though at the time he wouldn't necessarily have a framework for why he hated it

1960s: this one was very fun. i loved the idea of vox beginning to eschew some of the expected feminine presentation, and he no longer wears makeup, jewelry, or hose (though its hard to tell in black & white); however, he's kind of at war with himself in this time period. he's obsessed with seeming perfect and having a respectable image, so he would not go in for the counter-culture movements that were so big in the 60s. he's still kind of riding those coattails though, pushing those boundaries while still not acknowledging his queerness.

1970s: to me, it was very important that the gender hit as he entered the world in color. in my mind the gender euphoria is physically manifested in a wizard of oz situation - he can become who he always has been. anyway, gender aside, I think it was very important to me personally that he wore an ascot. it was for my mental health.

1980s: I wanted the 1980s to be the period where he began to gain some power and notoriety because of the de-regulation of television during this period to allow more ads, mirroring real-world history. I think if the 70s were when vox gained some real confidence, the 80s are when he got an Ego (tm). "business casual" also began to become more acceptable in this time period, and the t-shirt/suit jacket combo was very important for me to include, as to me it epitomizes the commercialism and machismo of the 80s.

1990s: this was actually the decade I was the most nervous to design, and yet I think it turned out the best? the 90s are known for grunge, which I think is NOT vox's style at all. I decided instead to lean hard into the yuppie look, which I know is more associated with the 80s but was definitely still a thing in the 90s. I also allowed a little hip-hop influence in the form of a gold chain from val, which is not something I think vox would ever pick on his own.

2000s: if the 90s were the decade I was worried about and turned out great, the 2000s are the decade I thought I had down SO GOOD and then totally floundered in execution. I still love the bubble-mac inspired head, and I tried to make his clothes as "round" as possible. I also like that this is the time where his saturation got cranked. however, I don't know if I'm in love with the vest and super bright sneakers, because again, looking back on it, he kind of looks like he works at a movie theater or best buy or some shit lol,,,

2010s: I think it's telling that this is by far the closest to his canon design (2014 tumblr lookin ass). I really wanted to pull from that hipster tech bro era, but unfortunately that aesthetic has a veneration for "retro" which again, is not fitting for vox. I still think he would wear the bowtie during this time because, well... he sure does in the show!

2020s: this was fun because I had an excuse to pull from haute couture design rather than street fashion because of the introduction of velvette into his life. I truly do not think velvette would let vox and val walk around in the outfits that they do because it would be an actual embarrassment LMAO. for this, I wanted his decorative "robes" to be evocative of the time he depicted himself as a priest AND of a cape/robe of an emperor. he does think of himself as that bitch, after all.

[eightball-chronicles]

Cheering Up Daisuke!

~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~

inspired by some absolutely delicious art by @al1en-invasi0n !!! check em out theyre so yummy :3

this MIGHT be my first time writing a tk fic (it is) so please don't bully me gangalang ,,, criticism is accepted just be nice to me [cry] also was writen on laptop so if the formats weird i apologize oops ...

lee!daisuke, ler!curly (NON SHIP !!!!!)

tw / cw : tks, starts off a wee bit sad, mention of jeopardy (j*mmy)

word count : 3151 under the cut

~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~

"Get it through your goddamn skull! That vent is strictly off limits! Fully fuckin' collapsed inside!" 

It was safe to say that Swansea was pissed. Daisuke, just released from the emergency foam he'd accidentally triggered, was awkwardly shuffling in place as he received yet another earful from his mentor. He messed up, sure, but really? His legs hurt already from being trapped not too long ago, he didn't want his head to follow suit.  

"You looking to get impaled, electrocuted, and cooked?!" Swansea's usual scowl was far more intense than usual; it was obvious to Curly, at least. As captain, he knew he'd have to intervene soon. Before he could, however, Daisuke spoke out: 

"Yeah, but like, you can't fit in there to fix it, right? So I can totally handle it." 

An uncomfortable silence filled the utility room. the three men stood in as the younger's words marinated. Swansea's eye twitched, clearly agitated. Curly really needed to say something - if he doesn't, who knows what Swansea would- 

"Captain." 

He stiffened slightly, worried what the older man was planning.  Swansea extended his hand out to the captain, demanding the axe. Curly saw Daisuke twiddling his fingers from the corner of his eye. Both their heads moved in unison with Swansea's arm. "Swansea," Curly started, handing the mechanic the axe, "this could've damaged the pods. You can't let something like this happen again." 

"Yeah, yeah...I got it." Swansea took the axe and swung it to rest on his shoulder. "Loud and clear." Slightly less tense than before, Curly placed his hand on his hip. "Keep the axe until you've cleaned this all up, yeah?" Swansea nodded with a huff, shifting his attention to his intern. Who was still fidgeting his hands. He looked up shyly as he spoke: "It's ok to be big, boss! "My gramps was super huge! And he lived until, like, 60!" 

Oh shit. 

Curly nervously looked to Swansea, who had an unreadable expression on his face. Daisuke, unaware of the weight of his words, smiled softly. Curly's attention shifted when he noticed Jimmy standing by the utility room door. He saw it as a reason to excuse himself from the heavy tension between the two men before him. Taking advantage of the opportunity, Curly swiftly made his way towards his co-pilot. Daisuke, finally noticing Swansea's mood, silently cursed at his captain for abandoning him. And as soon as he did... 

Swansea went off. Yelling all sorts of nonsense about safety and protocol that Daisuke didn't care to hear for the thirteenth time that week. Instead, trying to focus his attention on the conversation taking place behind his mentor. Unfortunately, he found it to be quite difficult. Something about being sane, psych evals, Anya - what was that about cartoon horses? 

Just as the two men started to walk off, Swansea yelled louder, noticing his intern not listening. This brought a new wave of lecturing, and Daisuke was *not* having it. He didn't even care if Swansea said the winning lottery numbers, he just wanted him to shut up. Much to his dismay, that wouldn't be happening anytime soon... 

~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~

Curly just sent Jimmy away after receiving a letter from the higherups. He reread its contents again, confirming what it said as if he had somehow misread the whole thing. Pony Express is shutting down? How could this happen? How will he tell the crew? Although instructed to not break the news until later, Curly was unsure if he could do that. Sighing heavily, the captain decided to get some fresh air. Well, not exactly - just whatever was breathable outside the weighty air of the cockpit. 

Ready to open the door at the end of the hallway, Curly was stopped by Swansea's presence behind it. He noticed something off immediately; his familiar frown replaced with a more concerned expression. Curly questioned it without a second thought, to which Swansea replied: "It's about Daisuke. After you left, I kind of went off. I...I think I went too hard on him. I've lectured him a bunch of times before, but he seemed more down this time." 

"Oh? How so?" Curly asked, putting a hand to his chin. Swansea shifted his weight before continuing: "After I run my mouth to him, he usually puts on this dramatic act and pouts when I dismiss him to go somewhere else. This time seemed different. I don't know how to explain it, but I think I hurt the kid." 

Swansea ended his explanation with a deep sigh as he lowered his head; he clearly felt guilty, and Curly understood as much. "Have you tried talking to him?" 

"I'm not too sure how thrilled he'd be to see me right now. I don't wanna scare the poor thing any more than I already have.  Plus, I don't know where he's at." 

Curly nodded before Swansea spoke up again. "Do you think you can talk to him?" The captain thought for a brief moment before reaching out to the worried man, patting his shoulder. "Of course I can. I'll go look for him and cheer him up, promise! You can go rest if you'd like, just make sure the foam in utility gets cleared up later, yeah?" 

To this, Swansea relaxed, wearing an uncommon smile. He nodded as he thanked Curly and walked off. The now determined captain headed off with a mission in mind; he was going to get Daisuke to smile, no matter the cost. 

~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~

If you disregard the sobs, the cargo room was quiet. The vast space left a slight echo on Daisuke's cries. He sat on the stairs, head between his knees and arms around his shins. His mind ran as fast as the ship he resided on. Why was Swansea so much angrier than usual? He was just trying to help; he was his intern after all. Then again, he practically called him fat and kinda sorta maybe implied he would die at 60... 

Damn, why would he say that? 

At this point, Daisuke's thoughts were racing a million miles a minute. The grip on his pants tightened as he cried. God, he's a screwup. No wonder his parents sent him away on this internship. He was annoying at home, and he's annoying in space. Will he ever learn to keep his mouth shut? He was so lost in his head that he didn't hear the door open behind him, or the footsteps that followed it. 

"Daisuke?" 

Said boy jumped a foot as he frantically wiped his eyes. He turned to face the source of the voice, trying to put on an act and forced a smile. But that smile shook, and Curly noticed. "Hey, captain! What's up?"  

"I should be asking you that. Are you ok?" 

Daisuke flinched slightly, his fake smile faltered as his shoulders began to tremble again. "I...I-I just...Swansea..." He didn't get anything else out after that, nothing that was intelligible, at least. He broke down again, turning around and placed his head back on his knees. Curly frowned as he made his way to Daisuke. He sat to his left on the stairs, rubbing the boy's back as he tried to soothe him. He let him cry it out until he was left only sniffling. Only then did he decide to speak out. "C'mon Daisuke, talk to me. Swansea found me earlier and said you were down. What's wrong?" 

He let out a small whimper upon hearing his mentor's name. Shakily, he started: "I-I don't know, I should've just listened to him. I just wanted to help! B-but I screwed up...I-I could've gotten myself seriously hurt, o-or killed, or broken the pods! Those are like, s-super important! Even I know that, yet still acted c-carelessly. N-not only that, I totally offended S-Swansea! H-he probably hates m-me, I c-can't believe I said that...I'm a t-total f-failure, I-" He was getting more panicked as he spoke, voice as shaky as ever. Curly cut him off as he stopped rubbing his back and pulled the boy to him by his waist. Daisuke yelped slightly at the sudden change of contact, yet melted into the side hug.  

"Kid," Curly started, "do you know why Swansea talked to me?" He felt a slight head shake on his shoulder. "Because he was worried for you, Daisuke. He told me he went too hard on you; that he feels bad he might have hurt you. I've never seen a more guilty face on him. And trust me when I say that means a lot. I've worked with him for I don't even know how long. He didn't mean to - Daisuke?" 

His speech was cut when he heard small chortles from the boy in his arm. Curly glanced down, seeing his shoulders tremble once more, differently this time. "Did I...say something funny?" he asked, a confused smile on his face. Daisuke shook his head again, a hand over his mouth. "Nohoho, it's just - your hahand-" Curly's gaze shifted to where his hand resided on the intern's side; it had started subconsciously rubbing him there as it was on Daisuke's back. "What about my hand? Are you hurt here? Oh no, I'm so sor-" 

"No! No, it's not that. I'm not hurt." 

"Oh? Then what is it?" 

Daisuke felt his face heat up. Thank god Curly couldn't see his face. He shifted slightly, unsure how to answer. "I just - it's not - you didn't - uh..." He peeked up to the captain as he trailed off, where he was met with a genuinely concerned face. "I'm afraid I don't follow, you know you can tell me anything, ri-" 

"It just tickled is all..." He mumbled. 

"Come again?" 

With a whine, Daisuke buried his face further into his hand, leaning more onto Curly's shoulder. No matter how many times asked, he didn't say more. Curly, in attempt to get his attention, pinched the boy where his hand still laid; on his waist. What he didn't expect, however, was for Daisuke to chirp at the touch. Now it was Cury's turn to get his mind thinking. Which didn't last long, however, as Daisuke's squeaky voice spoke up: 

"IT TICKLED ALRIGHT?!" 

If he wasn't blushing before, he sure was now. Curly saw the back of Daisuke's neck turn bright pink. Realization struck him shortly after, where a mischievous grin appeared. To confirm the suspicion, Curly pinched his side again, earning another bird-like sound. Oh, he struck gold. 

"Daisuke...are you-" 

"Shut up!" 

Daisuke's neck was now a deep red, his face buried deep in his palms while his fingers grabbed at his hair. His captain walked in on him crying, then he continued to cry *on* his captain, and now this?! Could this be any more embarrassing?! Well, yes, it could. Curly pinched his side for a fourth time. Daisuke whipped his head towards him only to be met with a grin covering half of the blonde's face. "Oh, Daisuke...that isn't a very nice way to speak to your captain now, is it?" 

Fuck. He's cooked. 

"W-w-wait, I-I didn't me-EEHEHEAA!" 

Daisuke was interrupted by his own squeal as Curly opted for pinching at his waist repeatedly rather than in intervals. He instinctively curled in on himself; arms wrapped around his torso while he brought his knees to his chest. While trying to twist away from the offending hand, Daisuke unintentionally leaned into Curly, who went in with his other hand to pinch at the giggling boy's other side. 

He squealed again from the tickly assault suddenly appearing elsewhere. Daisuke started jumping left and right, trying to escape from one hand only to be attacked by the other. Curly switched to poking before long, as this made the younger let out soft snorts as he weakly kicked his legs. The captain chuckled under Daisuke's evergrowing laughter, finding his reactions amusing. "I just cannot believe you told me to shut up. I'm wounded, Daisuke, and your words are the blade. How could you say such a thing?!"  

Said boy could only whine in response, "I dihihidn't mehehean toooooo! C'mohohon cahaptahahahain!"  

"Oh really? And how can I be sure of that, hm?" 

"Plehehehease! I prohohomise! I'm sohohorry, I'm sorryyyyy!" 

"Hmmmm...let me think." Curly pondered dramatically *way* longer than needed as he continued to poke at the intern's torso. Daisuke continued to squeak and giggle as he 'spaced out thinking.' Suddenly, the blonde perked up, "Alright, I've thought about it! I'm not stopping~" He then proceeded to move both his hands to Daisuke's hips, massaging the bone tenderly. 

The reaction was instant. The brunette shot his arms down, body spasming on impact. Grabbing Curly's wrists, Daisuke cackled loudly, unable to control the volume of his voice. His legs now fully kicking out as he spoke, "AAAAAHAHAHA! SHIHIHIT! GOHOD DAMN IT CUHUHURLY STAHAHAHAP!" To this, he gasped loudly; he would've acted out clutching his pearls had his hands not been occupied. "And just who do you think you are?! Talking to me like this...you're awfully ballsy for someone in your position." 

Daisuke could only answer in giggly babbles, unable to get any coherent words out as his hip bones got circles drilled into them. Curly only clicked his tongue in mock annoyance and grabbed Daisuke's left arm with his right, lifting it up. In once swift motion, he left the boy more vulnerable than ever. He gave him a break during this - he didn't want to kill the kid. Taking in big gulps of air, Daisuke had yet to notice the position of his arm. Only when he tried to rub his eyes did he glance up. He knew what was coming. 

Panicked, he locked eyes with his captor, smile wide and bright as his face matched his complimentary floral shirt. "C'mohohon captain! Y-you knohow I didn't mean ihit right? Rihight! S-so let's juhuhust forget this ever happehened!" Daisuke tried to reason with him, but Curly was having none of it. On the contrary, he was having too much fun. "Nuh uh, kid. You've gotta learn how to speak to your superiors. Tsk, young ones these days thinking they're all that. Even though you crumble the second I do...*this*." 

As he finished, his free hand quickly snaked behind Daisuke, going straight to his ribs. He pinched, squeezed, poked; anything to get the brunette to squeal. And squeal he did; his bubbly laughter echoed in the ample space of the cargo room. He tried to grab Curly's hand with his free one, but the captain kept dodging, scratching a new rib in the process. He chuckled as he felt weak tugging on the arm he held up. " 

"Plehehehease, I'm sohorry! I sweahahahar! I-I mehehean it!" 

"Oh, are you now? And how can I believe that?" 

Daisuke groaned between giggles before he spoke, "I prohohomise! I promihihise I'm sohorry!" 

Curly lifted an eyebrow at the intern, his bright smile showing off the gap between his front teeth. The sight brought his own smile to grow in size. "Okay, let's say I believe you then. You're forgiven, bud." 

"Thehen why aren't yohohou stohohohoping?!" 

He chuckled at the naivety shown before him, shifting so he faced the boy before he answered, "Did you forget why I came here in the first place?" Daisuke whined in response, brain short circuiting as he felt fingers drilling into his torso, letting out a scream at his uppermost rib was attacked. "Oh c'mohohohohOHAHAH -  CURLY! Quit ihihit! That tickles!" 

Curly shook his head slightly, seeing the intern's blush deepen upon saying the word. "Sorry, Daisuke. Swansea said you were being gloomy earlier. We can't have that now, can we?" Said boy threw his head back as Curly formed a vibrating claw against the space between his highest rib and armpit. He snorted loudly from the sensation, barely able to form coherent words. "OKAHAY, OKAY! I'LL CHEHEHEHER UHUP! PROMISE! I PROHOMIHIHISE!" Daisuke ended his plea with a wheeze, laughter getting more strained. Curly saw this as a sign to wrap things up, slowing his fingers until the tickling came to a full stop. He let go of the boy's hand, where it fell to his side as he curled into himself next to his captain.  

Curly once again rubbed the younger's back, hoping he didn't go too far as he giggled between gasps of air. Daisuke held his sides, still feeling the tingly sensation on his body. Once his breathing calmed down a bit, Curly decided to speak up, "Are you alright? I didn't do too much, right?" He received a head shake in return; the redness on the boy's neck showed he was too flustered to speak. 

"You really shouldn't be too hard on yourself, you know? Swansea cares for you. He doesn't show it much, but he really does. Sure, he gets mad sometimes, but that's just who he is. Like I said earlier, he's the one who came to me about you; he was worried sick!" Daisuke glanced up at Curly's speech, eyes widened slightly with curiosity. "To tell you the truth," the blonde continued, "his own kids moved out a while ago. I think he misses them; not like he'd ever admit that, though. I have a suspicion that you remind him of them. Gets his dad-gears turning. His fatherly instincts probably kicked in earlier when you set off the foam. Do you get what I'm trying to say?" 

Daisuke nodded his head, a tiny nervous smile on his face as he took in the confession. Did Swansea really feel that way? "Do you really think that's true?" Curly's gaze met his, flashing him a proud grin; "I know it's true! Don't tell him I said anything, though. He'd deny it to the moon and back." To this Daisuke breathed a sigh of relief, letting a small chuckle slip. He sat up from his ball-like position to fully face Curly, returning the smile. "Thanks, captain!" 

The captain felt his heart slightly melt at the sight of the joyous boy. Wrapping his arm around him for another side hug, rustling his hair with his other hand. "No worries! I'll always be here. As long as you keep that attitude at bay. Don't think I won't put you in check, young man." Curly poked his side as he finished, earning one last squeak from the previously giggly intern. Daisuke jumped out of the captain's arms before he could try anything again, dramatically taking a defensive stance. He winked in his silly pose. "No promises~" he sang as he walked backwards to the door. It automatically opened, causing him to turn around and jump slightly. Curly stifled a laugh as Daisuke turned around, face slightly dusted pink. He stormed off, grumbling as he left the cargo room for good. Curly giggled to himself, still sat on the stairs, reflecting on his crew and each of their colorful personalities. 

Yup, he was glad to be captain. 

~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~

hai guys ^-^ i hope yall enjoyed !!! i love daisuke sm hes my gf i love my gf ♡

~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~

[laurabenanti]

I got a couple of asks on how I did the text transition in this set. I'm going to explain as best as I can (with image references).

*Disclaimer: this assumes you have a basic understanding of giffing with video timeline, and keyframes. If you're new to keyframes, check out this tutorial by @userpeggycarter before proceeding.

Step 1: Go through, make your gif, color and all that jazz. if you're not familiar with giffing and need a guide, check this one out by @cal-kestis. Be mindful of the number of frames you have, as it is extremely important when keyframing begins. Make sure you have an even number of frames, or you will have an uneven transition. For this gif I'm at 60 frames total, and I'd be careful exceeding 70, as if you need to go back and delete... It just sucks, so be mindful! You'll see my gif and coloring under a group I titled "base" - and I highly recommend putting your gif/coloring/etc. into groups, as it will make the timeline a bit cleaner, and it's a little easier to find everything you need. But when you're done, you should be here:

*Quick note 1: Make sure your gif is in 8-bit mode. If you aren't familiar with bit modes, that is a tutorial for another time. For now, you can change it here:

Step 2.1: Pick your font/placement/etc. I really recommend being 100% on whatever you pick, along with the size. I've encountered problems when I move the font after the fact with alignment, so it's best to look your gif over to ensure you're satisfied. For this set, I went with Figtree, placed dead center.

I want to add to this by saying, thus far, I have found that white is the only color that works for this. I'm playing around with some other options, but black is 100% a no go. If you find a way to get that working, let me know. I'll amend this tutorial.

Photo of text settings, along with where you should be now.

Step 2.2: Since we're transitioning into a new set of words/text, you need to get that text ready as well. Shorten the length of time the first piece of text runs to halfway (I have 60 frames, so I cut it to 30).

Step 2.3: Duplicate your text layer, type your other text. The two texts should show for length of time, as you have an even number of frames, meaning you can divide by 2. Move it over to the end of where the previous text ends. If that makes no sense, it should look like the below: (again, folder for the typography to know where to reference. I have a small organization addiction so.. creator's choice)

*Quick note 2: I do not recommend changing to a new font or size with this, it won't look quite right. Of course, experiment away! This is just a small caution based on my own experimentation.

Now, to get to the actual fun part...

Step 3.1: Duplicate the first text layer. For this gif, it's the one that says "it didn't change anything". Once you duplicate it, you'll be turning it into a smart object. This is so the filter we apply works. Repeat for the second text layer. Lil gif below:

Quick note 3: I recommend going one text bit at a time, and also would tell you to put each typography layer into its own folder. This is really important for later, so doing it earlier is better.

Step 3.2: We will now apply the filter. To do this, you're going to click the smart object version of our text, then go to Filter → Stylize → Wind. For the gifset I made, I used Method → Blast and Direction → From the Right. Click "OK" and the filter will apply. Duplicate this for the other text layer.

Step 4: We now begin the keyframing. I highly recommend the rule of 0.3, which is when your transitions are over the span of multiples of 3 (i.e. if you start at frame 1 with 100% opacity, frame 3 will be at 0%). We'll be doing 6 frames from 100% to 0%, and vice versa, for this transition. This was the best time I found for this transition, but it's a matter of preference. Just follow that rule of 3.

Step 4.1: Click the smart layer of the text we made on the timeline, then click the little arrow on the left of the name of the layer. You'll see this:

See the little clock next to Opacity? Click it, and you get this lovely little yellow diamond. This is how we control the visibility of the Wind layer. It will start at 100%, keep it there.

Click the arrow on the right of the play button 6 times (aka get to the 6th frame), click the stopwatch again. While on this frame, and the yellow diamond clicked, change the opacity of the Wind layer to 0% It'll look like this:

You will repeat this, in reverse, at the end of the text layer.

Quick note 4: Sometimes, Photoshop is moody. To get the diamond on frame 30 (or whatever frame # the end of your text layer is), put it on the frame prior. You can then nudge that diamond over 1 frame. See below:

Repeat the process for the other text layer.

Step 5: We're basically done! Change your gif from video timeline to frames, maybe do a quick play through to make sure all is well.

Quick note 4 (it's the last one I promise): I have heard from many that when they work with keyframes, they end up with duplicate frames. I, personally, have not encountered this issue. I do not know if it is because of the version of Photoshop others are using, PC vs. Mac, or some other secret third thing. I recommend that, when you check your gif, verify if there are duplicate frames. The keyframe tutorial I linked earlier goes into further detail, and here is another lovely explanation from Nik, the master of all things keyframe transitions.

Step 5.1: Export, and give yourself a high five because you deserve it.

If you have any questions, don't hesitate to reach out! I'll try to clarify anything if needed. Happy giffing!

[blackjackkent]

@astreamofstars suggested my next dive into the parsed dialogue files should be looking at the various Vicious Mockery lines available for player characters, and the ways the different companion character VAs speak them. This turned out to be quite challenging, as there are a LOT of them!

There are a total of 97 unique Vicious Mockery lines, each of which was recorded by all ten companion character VAs PLUS all twelve custom character VAs, for a total of 2,134 recorded lines, which is wild. (This is not including Ethel's 60 unique Vicious Mockery lines as well, which brings the total to 2,194.)

In this video, I've collected all 97 VM lines across all ten companion VAs, along with notes (where applicable) on things like

references to Shakespeare (or other pieces of media)

places where BG3 continues a time-honored tradition of the series by butchering archaic English grammar

interesting inconsistencies between the VAs or with the written dialogue

(If you notice any references I missed, please let me know and I might edit the video! :D )

In making this video, I ended up listening to all these lines a LOT, and I do love that some definite patterns emerge which are very on-brand for the characters in question.

Astarion often sounds deeply disdainful and at times almost bored. He barrels through some of the lines as if he doesn't think the recipient of his insult is even worth his time. (Also him calling someone a "parchment-pallored villain" is a bit rich, don't you think? :P )

Gale is deeply pleased with his own cleverness and laughs at his own jokes.

In my opinion, Dave Jones by far most Understood The Assignment; Halsin bellows out the lines like a Shakespearean actor playing to the back row and really relishes the language.

Jaheira is in full mother-tiger voice and clearly ready to kick ass and take names; she's not messing around. (With one exception - I have been laughing over Tracy Wiles's reading of "Mouthier than an arse, twice as full o' shite" for the entire duration of this project, because solely for that line she sounds like she's been possessed by some unknown force and is utterly baffled by the words coming out of her own mouth.)

Karlach reads most of these lines as either battle-cry or schoolyard taunt and seems utterly delighted in both cases. I enjoy that she adds a fun roll on her r's to sound all mockingly fancy.

Lae'zel generally sounds like she's about to rip someone's throat out and often seems completely oblivious to the humor involved, even on lines like the delightful pun, "As the leg, you'll end in defeat."

Minsc definitely doesn't know what most of these words mean but he makes up for it in enthusiasm. I enjoy that "Mouthier than an arse" becomes "mouthier than a butt" only for him. XD

Minthara, like Lae'zel, is mostly not coming at this from a place of amusement; she's MAD. She sounds like a judge handing down sentence in the most disdainful manner possible. (That said, she has my favorite deliveries on some of the lines with timing-related humor: "Thou art saucy... as gruel," "Thine eyes! Pools of tepid piss," "Like a summer's day... thou art sweaty," etc.)

Shadowheart just sounds deeply offended that her target is existing anywhere near her. She's practically spitting on all her plosive consonants and it's delightful.

Wyll sounds remarkably fierce given how nice a dude he is, but a lot of his lines have some righteous indignation (appropriate for a former noble and the Blade of Frontiers) - or he just sounds like he pities his opponent. His reading of "It vexes me to know of you" is my favorite of the whole cast; he just sounds so disbelieving of his target's stupidity.

Overall I think my favorite of these lines is towards the end: "Your body's a temple - to an idiot god!" All ten companions really stick the landing on that one. :D

Thanks for watching! Hope you enjoy.

(Got requests for other investigations into BG3 dialogue? Drop me an ask and let me know! )

[professorlaytonarchive]

THE ORIGINAL DEATHLY MIRROR HAS BEEN FOUND.

This is not a drill. All 6 chapters of MotDM's original version are found and playable through emulation right now, thanks to the brilliant folks over at KeitaiWiki!

Now, remember this is the original version, not the ReMix, and the whole thing is in Japanese (yes, we're working on a translation) - but this is an amazing find for several reasons.

One, of course, is preservation. Having this game accessible and available is a fantastic thing for a multitude of reasons I don't feel the need to explain here.

Two, it's amazing news for our remake, too. There were a few missing pieces that we were not sure what to do about. That worry has been solved entirely, and all of these things can now be incorporated into the remake. Like what, you may ask?

For starters, there's 15 new puzzles that we can now localise and incorporate. Some are a bit more difficult to work with (there's a few based on specific uses of Japanese grammar), but we feel confident we'll be able to deliver fun and interesting interpretations of these new puzzles. For those of you keeping count, yes, that ups the minimum total of new puzzles in our remake to 60.

Another thing we're very happy to have recovered is the minigames, and the diary entries they reward you. There's one minigame in Chapters 1-3, and another in Chapters 4-6, for which we did not have any gameplay, assets, or even rules. While the loss of the second mingame could have been overcome by simply giving the first minigame more levels, the diary entries they reward you would have needed a lot more work and imagination, with our writers having to try to create new entries that would follow the original vision. This is now no longer an issue, and we can bring the original vision for these diary entries into the remake as they are.

On top of that, there were a few characterisations and storylines that were different between the original and the remix, where we would have had to pick the remix version by default, because the back half of the original was missing - this recovery gives us far more wiggle room to combine and reconcile these versions and make this game the most interesting version of itself. (Also, at the back end, having access to the original assets makes our recreation department very, very happy.)

So, all in all, a fantastic morning for the Layton fandom!

And then, what? Well, it might be a bit quiet on the update side of things for the time being, given that our job right now is to translate and localise about a million different things - and that just isn't a super interesting process to be sharing. We may have more to tell you once we've unpacked and analysed the files (we've only just got our hands on them, that's how fast this whole thing has gone), and we definitely have some other fun stuff we're working on that we can't wait to share, but after this massive update (maybe the biggest we'll ever do, because, wow), we'll need some time to work.

So for now, keep on keeping on, keep an eye on this subreddit and our youtube channel, and go check out the incredible work KeitaiWiki is doing. This whole thing, from the beginning, would not have been possible without them. (Seriously - they've been with us since the start of it all.)

Thank you.

-Nordic

from Team Enigma and Team Professor Layton Archive

[clubdionysus]

[BAD DECISION #60] Obduracy

warnings: starlovers!!!! <33 i really luv jimin in this one hehehe, lots of callbacks to earlier chapters!! fingering, pretty tame by their standards!!! but kinda semi-public? i mean they're at home but like... kitchen?? i dunno up to you to decide!

a/n: this one doesnt have a little cover image :( had to make it fresh :( the first non wattpad chapter :( waaaa. im hoping to having something new ready for you tomorrow hehehehhe

wc: 8.3K

bd total wc: 540k (ongoing)

AO3 | MASTERLIST | MINORS DNI

Jeongguk wears his hangovers incredibly well. Like an oversized shirt draped over his broad shoulders, it billows down his body, leaving you to guess what's hidden underneath. 

It's hard to tell if he's suffering like you are, for his face gives nothing but contentment away.

Hair messy and dishevelled, it sits like an unruly crown on his head as he washes dishes left from the evening before. A soft smile lingers on his lips as he hums along to the song quietly playing through the kitchen speaker, his voice far prettier than the original singer. The king of his very own kitchen, there's an innate flick to his wrists as he shakes water off steel bowls and pops them on the drying rack. 

Chest bare, he pays it no mind when tiny flecks of warm water splash against his skin.

Vines of ink trail up his arm and onto his shoulder. His self-modification proves he wasn't born from gold but rather polished to resemble something like it. 

In a way, it makes him so much more valuable. Or at least it does to you.

As you watch on from a bar stool on the opposite side of the kitchen island, chatting with him about the events of the night before, you wonder how it's possible for a man with a smile like his to have a body like that. 

The maths just doesn't compute, but you've never been great with numbers. Have always been more drawn to art—and God, what a work Jeongguk is.

Quite the contrary, you wear your hangovers with far less grace. 

There's glitter all over your skin, and your hair looks more like a bird's nest than a crown.

In front of you sits a barely touched glass of water and two Tylenol tablets yet to be taken. The thud in your head has only intensified since you woke up with a dry throat and achy body, but you're trying to push through it. 

"You're only making it worse," Jeongguk softly scolds you when you whine and slump down to rest your head on the countertop. "Don't be so stubborn."

When he talks like that, all assertive and domineering, it only makes you wanna be even more stubborn. It's in part thanks to your defiant nature, but also in part due to your desperation to have him use that tone of voice with you again.

"I can defeat it," you whine against the cold stone, a pathetic moan humming in your throat. 

With your hair still damp from your shower, you find yourself irritated by how quickly Jeongguk's hair dries compared to yours. It's your own fault, for you're the one who insists on changing its colour with the seasons, but it annoys you nonetheless.

Then again, everything irritates you when you're this hungover.

Truth be told, you'd happily get your hair wet all over again, if it meant you got to indulge in another shower with Jeongguk. Want nothing more than to relieve the way it feels for him to shampoo your hair, rubbing the pads of his fingers in circular motions against your scalp. If the restaurant doesn't work out, he could always opt to be a hairdresser, you think, then mentally reprimand yourself for daring to even think of a scenario in which the restaurant doesn't work out. Would never forgive yourself if you jinxed it.

Jeongguk doesn't mind the grouchiness that comes with your hangovers, 'cause they always come with an added side of clinginess, too. You had wrapped around him like a koala bear for that entire shower. Had your cheek to his chest, arms tightly locked around his back, eyes firmly closed as he washed your hair.

Gorgeous girl, he thinks to himself, then resumes the stern telling off he was giving you. Just wants you to feel okay, that's all. Knows you're too determined for your own good, sometimes.

"Clearly," he almost scoffs, not mean but definitely a little curt. His head's killing him, too. He just hides it better. Swinging open the fridge, he grabs a bottle of water—2 litres—and cracks open the seal. "Take your pills, or I won't get you anything when I order breakfast."

"Gguk," you whine, slowly sitting up straight to look at him with the biggest pout. Head tipped back, he's chugging on his water straight from the bottle at such a rate you're surprised he doesn't choke.

By the time he's finished, he's practically at the halfway point of the bottle. Shaking his head, he swallows his last mouthful down. Pants, a little. Says, "Water, pills, now."

Narrowing your eyes, you finally do as you're told, but make sure to say, "You're mean."

Jeongguk just shakes his head. "I love you."

With your eyes on his, you try your hardest not to show any sign of weakness—but when he presses his lips into a thin, curved line and smiles in a way that makes it impossible to fight, you can't help yourself. 

"Fine," you strop regardless, tossing your pills back and swallowing them down with a chug of water.

"See," he softly says in a way that is both patronising yet ever so gentle. 

He walks around the counter to stand beside you, and welcomes the innate way your hand reaches up to hold his waist. He's just the same in how his hand cradles your cheek, keeping your face angled to look up towards him. 

"Wasn't so hard, was it, baby?" He gently toys.

"You're the worst," you assure him, 'cause he knows he's being a little git right now.

And so, just like the last incredibly soft insult thrown his way, he fends it off by saying, "I love you."

"If you really loved me, you would have let me stay in bed."

"We have shit to do today, B," he reminds you. "I forced you up because I love you. Now, don't be rude. Say it back."

Jeongguk's ability to demand you say such heavy, ardent words is nothing short of a miracle. 

When you first met Jeongguk, the idea of him being so straightforward and forthcoming with his own feelings felt like an impossible task. Yet here he is, unafraid to tell you how much he cares for you, and unashamed to ask for reciprocation.

Tugging him a little closer, you rest your pointed chin against his sternum, and get him looking down towards you. 

Quietly, you whisper, "You know I love you."

"Say it again," he demands once more, his heavy-lidded eyes trained on yours as he speaks.

"I love you."

He smiles, now. Nods. 

"Good," he says, then pulls away to grab his phone and open up a delivery app. Has his favourite cafe pinned to the top. Clicks through to the menu without a second thought, muscle memory prevailing. "French toast? Iced coffee?"

"You know me so well," you hum with a pleasant smile, hopping off the bar stool and meandering over to Jeongguk's sofa. 

He follows you without hesitation and tugs the blanket from the armchair as he does so. You're wearing one of his shirts, and he's just in a pair of sweats, so a blanket seems like a sensible choice for now. 

Jimin still hasn't risen from his pit, and Nabi's clothes are still in the living room—just in a neat pile now, thanks to Jeongguk's innate need for a clean space to ensure he can power through his hangover. 

"You reckon they're gonna wake up soon?" You ask Jeongguk as he snuggles in beside you, flicking on the television. 

"Not a chance," he laughs. "Nabi's probably gonna escape out his bedroom window or something like that. Spent years denying there was anything going on, and I don't think her pride will be able to take the hit of being wrong."

"You never know," you begin to playfully theorise. "Maybe they're just friends."

"Have you forgotten getting home last night?"

"Well, yeah, but I mean, I shagged you plenty of times, and we've always just been friends."

"Oh, fuck off," he laughs. "We've never been just friends."

"No?"

"No," he says with a cocksure confidence that has been earned over many months of knowing you as intimately as he does. Smiling as you roll your eyes, you don't bother fighting back. It's a losing cause. "We're best friends. Duh."

If you could have it your way, the day would be spent exactly like this—cuddled up on Jeongguk's sofa without a care in the world—but you've got work to do.

The gallery needs to be cleaned up from the night before. It's not a huge amount of work, but still tedious labour that you'd rather not do with a raging headache. One of the reasons you're given such liberty with the gallery space is because you always make sure it's left without a trace, and so you know you need to get it sorted sooner rather than later.

Jeongguk's offered to help out, 'cause his day is empty. Other than discussing the business with Yoongi, his agenda is remarkably clear, and if he's being honest, the last thing he wants is to talk about the restaurant. 

See, Jeongguk worries. He's got everything in the palm of his hand—his girl, his dreams, his future. All it takes is one misstep, and he could lose everything.

Comfort is found in you. Solace.

"Smell good," he mumbles, nuzzling his nose against the curve of your neck, sinking into a more comfortable position snuggled up against you. Doesn't kiss you, but he does let his lips trail up your skin in a way that promises he eventually will.

"Smell like you," you sweetly reply, 'cause none of your things have made their way into his home yet. The shampoo you use is his. The shower gel, the moisturiser, the suncream. It's all him—and you love nothing more than going home with such innocent reminders of him on your skin.

"Mhm," he confirms. That's exactly why he likes it so much. The silage of you is the signpost of him. "Mine."

Any gap between you (which admittedly isn't much at all) is eliminated with the way Jeongguk drags you into his embrace. It's the kind of hug that can only be described as acceptance: there is no you, nor him. Just the pair of you, together. 

It's dangerous territory to embark upon, with such reliance on another person, but it's also a path that you just can't seem to resist.

Laced in berries, the hedgerows of this rambling walk you're strolling down together keep you going forward. Occasionally, you'll stop. Smell the roses. Pluck a berry here or there. Pause when you hear the noise of a wild beast in the forest that surrounds you, or the threatening echo of a farmer and his gun.

But then forwards, you'll go. Destination, unknown. Wherever you end up is exactly where you'll need to be.

The wait for food is wasted away together, dumb conversations about nothing and anything that comes to mind. Jeongguk toys with your fingers. Plays with your rings. Strokes the pad of his index finger over the small callous on your middle one.

"Used to be worse," you acknowledge, holding up your hand to study it. Back when you were in school, the amount of writing and doodling you did meant a callous was inevitable. Now that you're out of the habit of doodling, and far less likely to spend hours writing by hand, it's softened. Almost looks as if it wasn't even there to begin with. Part of your history that is slowly fading away.

One day, you won't be able to recall any part of your life that isn't inexplicitly saturated by him.

He holds up his own hands. Studies them against yours. It's like some juvenile flirt, comparing hand sizes, as if your legs aren't tangled with his, and his other hand isn't wedged between your thighs. 

You're not learning anything new. Are revising, for a lack of a better term. Just like you used to do with the birds, when you wanted any excuse you could use to be intimate with one another. 

It's different now, you suppose. Intimacy. How you view it. Just isn't what it once was. 

Things that used to be sacred to you are now second nature.

Glancing across to Jeongguk as he natters on about the deep line that runs along his palm, and how it signals he's destined for greatness, you realise there's an ache blooming in your chest. 

His pouty lips rabbit on, dark eyes occasionally fluttering across to you, then back to his hand. 

There's a vulnerability to him. It's his eyes, you think, and their need to check in on you. He's making sure you're listening. Interested. Aren't bored or waiting for him to shut up. It's a somewhat nervous habit of his, stemming from the fact he doesn't ever really talk this much with anyone else. 

In a way that no one else is lucky enough to experience, Jeongguk opens himself up to you. About the big and the bad, the emotional and the heavy, but also about the small, lovely, lightweight things, too. Weather talk, mindless chatter he'd never bother engaging in with other people. 

He talks of superstitions and legends, movies he watched as a kid, and dreams he had overnight—a stream of consciousness, all for you.

See, Jeongguk talks. 

Around you, he talks and talks and talks.

If his mother could see him like this, she'd be gobsmacked. He's always been the more quiet one of her sons. Reserved. Cautious to speak in fear of saying the wrong thing.

But he's childlike in his eagerness to share with you, Bambi eyes wide and sparkling, teeth nibbling down on his bottom lip whenever he leaves enough room for you to respond. 

Time is lost in conversation until his doorbell chimes—a notice of food arriving. 

"Go get changed," you say, tapping on his knee as you get to your feet. "I'll sort out breakfast." 

Nodding, he does as he's told, lightly spanking your ass before heading to his room. Glancing over your shoulder, you feign a little hurt.

"I'll kiss it better," he promises, and you know he will. 

The curse of his devotion to you means he can never lie. 

He can, however, keep secrets. Small ones. Teeny tiny ones that will have no consequence other than to make you melt when he finally reveals them.

Checking his phone, Jeongguk smiles to himself when he notices a notification of confirmation—plans made now rolling into motion. You cope with surprises far better than he does. Appreciate the romanticism of it all. He's sure you'll like it.

When he comes back into the kitchen, you have to hold in a desperate groan. Who gave him the right to look like that? And how many cats did you save from trees in a previous life to deserve it?

Dressed for the gym, he's in a pair of dark shorts that sit on his hips as if they were made just for him. The contours of his upper body are on display for everyone to see, a tight black compression shirt outlining the ridges on his chest. 

The silver chain he always wears is tucked outside of the shirt, 'cause he doesn't like the pressure of the fabric on top of it, and his hair lays flat against his head. He's perfectly undone.

As he's putting on a pair of socks by the sofa, he clocks you staring. Simply hums, "Hm?"

Eyes wide and unassuming, he's oblivious to the fact you feel like you might faint just by looking at him, even if the socks he's putting on have individual spaces for each of his toes.

We can't all be perfect, after all—though Jeongguk would argue his socks encourage correct toe alignment, which could only be a good thing. 

"Anyone ever told you that you're a menace to society?" You painfully whine, the groan you were hiding making its presence known.

Almost bashful, Jeongguk tips his head to the side, eyes twinkling your reflection back at you. 

"Flattery won't convince me to let you go back to bed," he teases, playing off the compliment. Socks on, he makes his way over to you without hesitation, his tattooed arm draping over your shoulders, as he presses a kiss to the side of your head. 

"Was worth a try," you playfully tease him, even if you did mean it. Hooking your arm around his waist, you give him a squeeze and glance up towards him. A tender kiss is given and received, his lips softly curving into a smile against yours. "Eat up. Quicker we leave, the quicker you can get to the gym, and the quicker you can come back to mine afterwards."

The outline of your day is solid: go to the gallery and get it cleaned up, meander back to town with Jeongguk, send him on his way to the gym, pick up some groceries and then head home. 

Small errands that will eat up most of the day, but an empty evening that can be spent exactly as you'd like: with him.

"We at yours tonight?" He hums, still getting used to just how easy it is to coexist next to you. Never in his wildest dreams could he have imagined a life like this. 

"Feel like Jimin might need the privacy," you note, very much aware that he hasn't made a single appearance, which is very unlike him. He's normally reciting lines from The Notebook by this point in the morning.

You know he's fine, 'cause you heard the synthetic ding of his speaker being turned on a little while earlier, presumably to drown out any 'conversations' he might be having. 

Jeongguk smirks, picking out a strawberry from the container next to the french toast, and says, "He never gave us privacy."

Tossing the strawberry to his back teeth, there's a smile on Jeongguk's lips that's impossible not to mirror. Turning slightly, you get yourself trapped between his body and the kitchen island. Wrap your arms around his neck. Encourage him down to nudge his nose against yours.

"Yeah, but he also never caught us having sex," you remind Jeongguk, lips brushing against his. Breakfast can wait. Or maybe the menu can just change. "We were incredibly well-behaved as far as he's concerned."

"We were?" Jeongguk quietly flirts, his hips pressing against your tummy, letting you know just how much he enjoys being with you. "I don't think you've ever been well behaved."

"Oh, but I am," you simper right back. Reaching down for his hands, you encourage them to roam your body. Squeeze them over your chest, then encourage them down to the tops of your thighs—or, more specifically, between them. "I'm such a good girl for you, aren't I?"

Pressing his fingers up against your thinly-covered cunt, Jeongguk smirks, the subtle markers of your arousal greeting him like they so often do.

"You are," he nods. "And you're gonna be good for me now aren't you?" His fingers hook the lace of your underwear to the side, and gently begin to tease your wet folds. "Gonna keep it nice and quiet for me, huh?"

Nodding, you let yourself succumb to your unbridled desire to have your lips on his as he sinks his middle finger into your cunt. With a small whine, you totally disregard the promise you've only just made.

And so Jeongguk shakes his head, still kissing you. Barely parts from your lips when he says, "Shush, shush, shush, baby. Quiet for me."

When he pushes a second finger into you, your brows furrow, but the whine you're dying to sound out just vibrates into his mouth. 

"Attagirl," he praises as his fingers begin to pump inside of you. Deepening his kisses, Jeongguk strokes his tongue against yours, as if your body was just made for him to claim. Signed, sealed, delivered: his. Your hips roll into his movements, but it's not enough. 

As much as he wants to keep you plugged, Jeongguk wants easy access more. 

Pulling his fingers from your cunt, there's a satisfied grin on his pretty lips when you whine. 

"Shush," he says with such affection it could make even the coldest heart thaw. Dipping slightly, he hooks his forearms just beneath your ass and swiftly lifts you up. Gets you perched up on the counter. Spreads your legs, and is pleased when you lift the hem of the baggy shirt you're wearing to fully reveal your pussy to him. 

"Look at you, gorgeous," he husks. Genuinely thinks he might die just from looking at your cunt. Too perfect. Too fuckin' nice. Stroking his still-wet fingers up your folds, he wastes no time sinking two fingers into you once more. "Quiet, baby."

"Room," you breathlessly say, desperately trying not to make any sounds that could give yourselves away. "Don't wanna be quiet. Take me to your room."

Jeongguk just smirks. Looks in your pretty eyes and challenges you. "Say chess. I'm not going to my room, but you can say chess."

He knows there's absolutely no way in hell you're saying chess. 

Narrowing your eyes, you reach to the front of his shorts, and stroke his hard cock through the fabric. If he's gonna make this hard for you, then you're gonna do it right back.

"If you're gonna torture me then you may as well do it right," you feign a little boredom, tugging his shorts down just enough to play with him over his boxers. "Your fingers are nothing, baby." A lie, but that's neither here nor there. "Make things difficult for me. Make it impossible for me to keep quiet."

"You really want Jimin to find out, huh?" Jeongguk teases, still playing on the idea that you've ever managed to convince anyone that you are, in fact, just friends. "You want him to know that we fuck?"

But then Jeongguk glances over your shoulder to the doorway that leads into Jimin's room, as the click of his latch goes. Jeongguk barely has enough time to pull his fingers from you, and definitely not enough time to pull his shorts back up over his boxer-covered boner, so instead, he presses up against you to keep himself covered. Thank God he's behind the island and not anywhere else.

If you thought it was torture before, then now must be a whole new level, just a few layers of fabric keeping you apart.

"It lingers, y'know," the grouchy voice of Jimin echoes from behind you. 

Turning your head, thighs squeezing against Jeongguk's hips to keep his dignity protected, you try to hide your embarrassment. 

Jeongguk's hands rest on your thighs, and the one that's out of sight to Jimin is being wiped against your skin to rid his fingers of your arousal. This could have been so much worse than what it is.

"The smell of sex," he adds with a little disdain. "I always knew."

As if the God of Thunder personally gave birth to him, Jimin's face is stormy as can be. His scowl is so deeply ingrained into his expression that you're certain the wind must have changed in his direction as he was first pulling the face. Whatever you drank last night, he must have had it too.

Hair all haphazard, face a little dewey from a warm slumber, there's an unusual dishevelled nature to Jimin. He's not even bothered to put on clothes. Is quite literally in just a pair of boxers. 

It's quite unlike him. Then again, so are the hickies on his collarbones. 

"Well, that's weird, 'cause me and Jeongguk have never had sex," you reply without even thinking, the lies ingrained into your reflexes at this point. Even Jeongguk looks at you with confusion this time. 

"Firstly, we eat off that counter, sickos. And secondly, I heard," Jimin simply assures you both, walking to the counter and picking up a plastic fork. He sticks it into a chunk of the french toast, and doesn't ask permission. Just chows down on it. Speaks with his mouth full. "Like, so many times. In fact, I've heard you at it so many times I can almost predict what's happening when."

"Bullshit," Jeongguk laughs—and he'd be right. Jimin's never heard, not properly at least, unless you count the muffled groans in Pohang that put him off his food for an entire day. He just hates the embarrassment of being walked in upon by the pair of you. The one time he needed privacy the most and he didn't even think to bolt the door—or better yet, go to his own bloody bedroom. He wants you to know what his embarrassment feels like. Jeongguk is unphased, though. "Nabi still here?"

"Shut up," Jimin replies, pulling the rest of the french toast towards him, closing the lid. He narrows his eyes, then snatches the box right up. Holds it to his chest. Scowls at you both. Turns on his heel and returns to his room, grinning now that you can't see him, shutting the door behind himself. 

Neither of you stop him. 

"Is he…"

"Okay?" Jeongguk finishes off your query. "No idea."

But one thing for certain is that Nabi's possessions are still very much inside the apartment. She's still here, and you're willing to bet he shut the door with a smile, holding his stolen breakfast with all the triumph of a cat who got the cream. 

"On that note," you begin to tangent off, knowing you've already wasted too much of the day. "You okay to drive? Or would you rather take the subway?"

"Subway," Jeongguk immediately responds, reaching over to take a sip of his coffee. "Don't wanna risk it."

And he also wants any excuse he can find to spend time with you. Takes three times as long to get to The Ryu on public transport than it does in his car, especially with how he drives.

"Alright," you don't argue against him or bother suggesting a taxi instead. "And am I cool to leave my things here? I'll pick them up next time—"

"You know you don't need to ask," Jeongguk grins, the ring in the corner of his mouth flipping ever so slightly in that heavenly way it so often does. 

"Well, yeah, but—"

"Keep it here," he says. "Don't take your stuff home next time. Leave it. I'll clear a drawer. Some hangers."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," he nudges his nose up against yours. "You've been leaving glitter here for months. May as well move onto something more substantial."

As if your heart isn't enough.

"Plus," he considers. "At least that way you can stop stealing all my favourite shirts."

"You love it when I wear your shirts."

"B, I love it when you wear nothing at all," he smirks. "Clothes have nothing to do with it. But on that note, go put some clothes on so we can actually do something with our day."

Reluctantly, you agree.

And just as reluctantly, he lets you go.

The subway is always crowded at this time of day. Jeongguk insists you sit while he stands in front of you, holding on to the railing that runs overhead. It's a small kindness—the kind you never really thought about until you met him and learned how lovely it is to have someone actually care about your comfort and well-being. 

He doesn't spend the journey on his phone like so many of the other commuters. Instead, he focuses on the windows, and the small glimpses indicating where you are along the subway line. Occasionally he'll look down at you and smile. Though you're not sleeping, your eyes are closed, cutting out the harsh lights of the tin can you're situated inside. You've never been more desperate for your bed. 

Once you reach your stop, Jeongguk tightly scoots in behind you on the escalators.

"We can have a quiet night in," he softly promises. His hand rubs at your waist, and the elevated position of your body allows him to press a kiss to your shoulder.

Even despite the fabric of your shirt—one that belongs to him, of course—it still feels like a star is burning through your very being. 

Nodding, you place your hand over his and squeeze ever so gently. Reciprocate his warmth. 

You don't mean to be so grouchy and unexpressive, the hangover just really is killing you. If it wasn't for the video Jeongguk insisted on assessing after waking you up this morning, you might not have even recalled exactly just how raunchy you'd been with him at Dionysus. 

Fucking someone at work had always been one of his covert fantasies; the kind of thing he wanted to do just so he could say that he had. Wouldn't mind leaving the box next to it unchecked on his mental to-do list. Would happily do it all over again.

His notice has been handed in, though. Dionysus is no longer his place of work. His contract runs until the end of the month, but he saved up holiday time. Never has to go back, if he doesn't want to.

As his fingers squeeze a little tighter on your waist, he can't help but wonder if he's making the right choices. He's been comfortable at Dionysus. Wasn't making great money, but was making enough. 

But when you squeeze your hand over his, he knows it doesn't matter. He can make all the bad decisions in the world as long as he doesn't make any that'd result in him losing you.

The weather's slowly been getting warmer over the past few weeks. As you exit the subway station, the sun confronts you with such aggression that you almost stumble from the impact of her punch.

"I'm never drinking again," you whine, bringing the hand of yours that's holding his up to cover your eyes a little. He lets you dictate his movement freely.

"You say that every time," Jeongguk reminds you, playfully nudging into your side, before rounding the corner up towards the gallery. "C'mon. Fake it till you make it. Pretend you don't have one."

"Impossible."

The remainder of the morning is slow. Every time you glance at the clock, it seems only a few minutes have passed. 

Cataloguing and processing the sales of art from the night before is laborious. It takes a lot of mental energy that you can't seem to conjure up.

Jeongguk doesn't really know how to help, but he is far stronger than you. Does all the heavy lifting as you prepare various canvases for shipping.

Eventually, he's left twiddling his thumbs, so you insist he heads straight to the gym.

"I'll meet you after," you tell him, as you sit on the floor of the gallery, crossed-legged, a pencil behind your ear and a million documents scattered around you. Jeongguk has no idea how you can work in such chaos. Finds himself getting stressed out by it.

It takes a solid fifteen minutes of assuring him you'd be fine on your own, but eventually he leaves for the gym. The way you see it, the quicker you both get your tasks for the day done, the quicker you can go back to yours, make some dinner, and call it a night. 

"Call me when you're done, yeah?" He says, lingering by the door because he just can't bear to leave you. As the sunlight peers in through the windows, small speckles of glitter sparkle on his skin. "I'll come meet you halfway."

With an ever-sincere smile, you just laugh. "Go."

Finally doing as he's told, Jeongguk walks backwards until you're out of sight. Feels his heart physically ache in his chest. Doesn't understand why he's so damn pathetic all of the time when it comes to you, just knows he wouldn't change it for the world.

Despite the solitude of an empty gallery, you're perfectly content. The lingering scent of paint and paper isn't too far removed from your place of work. Makes it easy to imagine a life where this could be your work. 

Devoting yourself to this is easy. Passion has always yielded a higher reward for you than wages, so you don't mind burning the candle at both ends.

The situation is becoming strained at best, you know. Eventually, something will have to give.

For now, though, you finish off your jobs. Arrange couriers to pick up the artworks sold, and make sure the names and numbers match the deposits with a copy of Jeongguk's business account bank statement, of which you made him print out for you.

"I can just log into my bank on your phone," Jeongguk had shrugged when you'd first asked him for it, seemingly not realising just how insane he sounded. When he clocked your look of bewilderment, he laughed. "What? It's not like you're gonna run off with all the money."

While this is true, looking at the sheer amount of money in there could make you cry. It's all so attainable now; Jeongguk's dreams and a reality in which they come true. 

So engrossed in your own thoughts, you almost jump out of your skin when a knock sounds at the doorway into the office. 

"Sorry," Shinwon hums ever so pleasantly, a smile on his face, thoroughly bemused by how startled you look. "Didn't mean to scare you."

"No, no," you shake your head, endearingly playing off your embarrassment. "I just didn't expect to see you here! Or see anyone here, for that matter."

Between exhibitions, the gallery will be closed for the next couple of weeks. It's partially to allow for the staff to reset, but mainly to allow for careful considerations of how the space will be used. 

As Jina's maternity leave cover, it's Shinwon's job, but you're yet to see any plans from him. You don't even know which artists are due to be showcased. She did say that a new vacancy would probably open up around this time, and if Shinwon doesn't start putting some tangible hard work in, you wouldn't be surprised if it's sooner rather than later.

There's been no mention of it, though. The big bosses don't seem to care about his underperformance, probably 'cause they know he's temporary.

"Just coming by to drop something off," he explains, holding up a small white envelope. Pressing it down on the desk, he looks uncertain, as if there are words dancing on the tip of his tongue. "It went well last night, didn't it?"

With a tight-lipped smile, you nod. Feel your cheeks swell. "Yeah. Went really well."

"Good," he nods. Is about to leave. Pauses when he reaches the door, and awkwardly turns to face you. Nods towards the letter on the desk. "There's gonna be a position opening up soon. You should apply. I'll put in a good word."

Furrowing your brows, you glance over the white envelope, then back to Shinwon. "But they're not hiring any—"

"Letter of resignation," he concedes with a tight-lipped smile. "I've got an overseas opportunity that I don't wanna pass on. I'll work my two weeks, but then there'll be a position to fill until Jina is back from maternity."

By overseas opportunity, he really means that some of his private school buddies are going travelling, and he wants in on the fun. This was always an opportunity of convenience for Shinwon. He was never passionate about it. Not like you are.

"Apply," he encourages. "You basically do my job as it is for free, anyway. May as well get paid for it if you can."

He doesn't stay to chitchat. Probably won't even remember your existence once he heads off on his trip. Was never in this for the right reasons.

You've resented him on plenty of occasions. Been annoyed at the fact he does fuck all and gets paid for it. Yet the idea of actually filling his (albeit incredibly small) shoes is fear-inducing.

A job at the gallery would be the first step to actually doing what you love for a living—being around art and artists. Sure, you could argue that the art cafe gives you that, but a highschooler nervously painting by numbers on a first date has nothing on the works that you see here.

There's joy to be found in your current job, though. Fun. Safety. Home.

But nothing remarkable ever happened to people who choose to remain comfortable.

Quickly finishing your to-do list, all you want to do is speak to Jeongguk about it. See what he thinks. You know it's a no-brainer. You have nothing to lose. You just want him to give you the green light that you're making the right choices.

The headache you've been battling is weak in comparison to your racing thoughts, now. You're thinking of the possibilities—of all of your hard work actually being for something. You've proven to the gallery that you can bring in punters, and that you can utilise their resources for profit. 

It's always been a case of who you know, not what you know, but you know the gallery, now. They know you. 

It could really happen. 

By the time you reach the gym, fantasies of a life with a staff ID card and access to the archives, you can't stop smiling. It'd change your life. Flip it upside down in the best of ways.

The gym is just the same as it always has been. There's a new girl behind the front desk. Not someone you recognise. Smiling as she greets you, she's keen to help, long dark hair tied into a ponytail, her branded shirt tight to her curves. You're reminded that the gym is a breeding ground for beauty, but it doesn't matter. You'll get your cardio in later beneath your sheets. 

She's also got the kind of smile that you just can't help but reciprocate. 

"I don't have a membership," you begin to explain, knowing just how troublesome it was on your first ever visit and not wanting a repeat of it. There's no way you're paying for a month, 'cause now you don't need it as an excuse just to see Jeongguk. You also can't help but overcompensate, and give far too many details in an awkward, endearing mess of an explanation. "Well, I mean, I used to have one so my details are probably on the system. Sorry, not important. I know you guys don't do day passes—"

Furrowing her brows, she kindly interrupts. "We do."

"Oh?"

"Yeah," she says, nodding towards a sign in the corner of the countertop. Clear as day, daily and weekly memberships are listed. "We've done them for as long as I've been here. Don't think it's a new policy. Anyway, happy to help—just a day membership?"

Jiyeong might be a distant memory now, but thoughts of her will never fail to irritate you.

"Yeah please," you smile regardless, sliding your card out from your pocket—and then you're over explaining again. Probably habit from the Jiyeong era. Is also probably why you make a point to mention Jeongguk by a title only you have the privilege to use. "I'm just joining my boyfriend for a session. He's—"

"Oh, he's a member?" she chirps, not rude in her interruption but efficient.

"Yeah," you nod, and are about to mention him by name, but the girl speaks too quickly again.

"Oh, you should have said! Members get a monthly plus one. It's not a free session, but it's half price, so better than nothing," she smiles. "I'll just need his gym ID—or name, I can search the system—so I can put it through."

You know she really ought to ask Jeongguk's permission. You could be any random woman. 

But you're not, and so you tell her. "Jeon Jeongguk?"

"Ah," she nods, vaguely aware of his existence. Unlike Jiyeong, she hasn't spent a substantial amount of time fawning over Jeongguk. To her, he's just another dude who comes in and leaves her alone. She appreciates it, given how some guys can be, but she also doesn't care to reward bare minimum. 

She asks you to confirm his phone number, which you can do without issue, so at least there's some level of security in place. 

It's a perfectly pleasant exchange, and it thankfully rids you of woes you didn't even realise you had. The Jieyong debacle had left a mark on you, but it feels like it's been rubbed clean. Your mind tends to jump to thoughts of her whenever he goes to the gym, and so at least you can sleep well knowing that the new girl isn't interested in any way shape or form.

Buzzing you through, she tells you to enjoy yourself—but as you start heading up the stairs to the main gym section, you already feel your regret looming. A hangover is still a hangover.

You clock Jeon Jeongguk almost immediately. How anyone isn't immediately drawn to him, you'll never understand. Just finishing up with some weights, he's re-racking the ones he's used, skin glowing with sweat. 

There's a beauty to seeing him like this. Primal desires. 

Glancing up to the mirrored wall behind the rack, Jeongguk eyes are on yours just as quickly. It's like you're magnets, destined to meet.

A confused smile etches into his exhausted face, brows furrowing as he turns to face you.

"What are you doing here?" He mouths, head puppy-like in the way it tilts. 

Shrugging your shoulders, you walk towards him. Mouth, "I just love the gym."

"Liar," he simpers when you're within earshot, reaching his hand out for you to take so he can pull you closer, of which he immediately does.

One hand clasped in his, your other hand rests on his still-heaving torso. He's gone hard today, to make up for the night before. His compression shirt is silky beneath the palms of your hands, the strong ridges and contours of his body yours to hold. Other people can look all they like. None of them get to feel. Not like you do.

As he looks down at you, there's a softness to his gaze. A smile that he doesn't care to hide. A sparkle in his eyes that shines even out of direct light. Just a consequence of looking at a star.

"You shouldn't be here," he quietly hums. "We both know you hate it."

"I can go, if you like?"

Jeongguk just shakes his head. Smiles as he turns you both around and begins to walk backwards, pulling you with him.

"You're the one who hated being here," he reminds you. "I loved you being here."

"Obsessed," you grin, gingerly letting him drag you anywhere he likes. "And good, 'cause I used your monthly plus one."

"Yeah," he confirms, ignoring the curious glances of other people in the room as he leads you back to your old 'spot'. "Thought we'd established that already? And that's fine. Use it every month."

Funny, how you used to hypothesise over the lives of other people in this very room, and how you know others must be doing the same for you now. You hope they all think you're besotted with him.

When you look at him like that, all love drunk and starry-eyed, how could they not?

"Was just about to finish up, anyway," Jeongguk tells you, heading in the direction of the treadmills. Glances back to you, then nods in their direction. "For old times sake?"

"For old times sake," you beam, following his lead, stepping up onto the treadmill closest to you. They're all vacant, but Jeongguk steps up on the one beside yours, 'cause of course he does. He'd go on the same one as you, if it were possible. 

God, he loves you being here. Can't stop smiling.   

You don't mention the potential job opening. For old times sake.

Instead, you revel in what it used to be like whenever you came to the gym, 'cause it just makes you so much more grateful for what you've become. Like Dionysus, these four walls saw the groundwork of your relationship being laid. 

You've already lost access to one of the most important places to you both with Jeongguk leaving the club. 

If you change jobs, you'll lose the art cafe, too. The lease is coming up soon on your place, and if Danbi chooses to just move in with Tae, that'll be another safe haven gone. One by one, places of your past are closing their doors to usher you forward into new spaces. 

Life can't always stay the same. Change is needed. Necessary. 

You've changed. So has Jeongguk. You'll continue to change for years to come.

The difference now is that you'll change together. Adapt. Merge, in some ways, just like a pair of orbiting stars so often do.

On the way home, Jeongguk picks up a bunch of wildflowers from the market stall he once bought you apology flowers from. His fingers are intertwined with yours as he pays, hands lightly swinging. 

It dawns on you all rather quickly, as Jeongguk nibbles on his bottom lip and waits for the payment to go through, that maybe this is a change that you needn't fight. Perhaps it's okay to look forward to your future instead of being hung up on the past. 

"C'mon," he tugs on your hand as you leave the market stall, encouraging you to gain a little momentum. "I'm starving. If we don't get me food soon, I'll turn into you with a hangover."

"Cute?"

"Oh, so close," he grins, then shakes his head. "But no. Grouchy and unbearable."

"You were practically begging to shag me," you remind him. "Can't have minded that much."

Jeongguk can't argue against this one. "I didn't—but working out increases like… all the hormones that were working overtime this morning. If I don't eat soon I might die, but if I don't shag you soon, I also might die. Honestly it's a lose-lose situation, B. There's only one solution."

"Sixty-nine?" You offer, 'cause it's perfectly logical. He gets to eat while you get him off. A win-win, you'd argue.

"You're a disgusting pervert," he tells you with stern sharpness, paired with a smirk he just can't help, as if he totally wasn't angling for you to say it. "But now that you mention it, yes. That'd be ideal."

"I don't shag boys who call me disgusting," you reply, knowing that he absolutely didn't mean it like that. You just like winding him up.

"I'm pretty sure I've called you worse before," he reminds you, then holds the flowers out in front of you both. "These can double as apology flowers instead of just my-girlfriend-is-really-pretty-and-I-love-her flowers."

You narrow your eyes as you look across to him, but the smile on his face is just too hard to resist. Thin lipped, his dimples are present, lip ring flipping in the corner of his mouth. 

It's like his lip ring does the thing and you're reduced to jelly.

"Lucky you're cute," you grumble.

"You can thank my mum for that one," he offers, fully aware of how often people would coo over his cuteness as a child and then proceed to tell his mum how similar they are. "And for how pretty I am, too."

Though he's just joking, he's right. He really is the prettiest man you've ever known, inside and out.

You won't tell him this, though. Would give him far too much negotiation power.

"Who do I thank for how annoying you are?"

“Jimin,” Jeongguk says. "That's a learned behaviour. Nurture over nature."

"Figures," you accept, before tugging on Jeongguk's hand to lead him into a grocery store. "I've got nothing in. Need to pick up food or else you'll be going hungry."

"I thought we already agreed on six—"

"A little decorum please," you cut him off. "We're in a public space."

"You said it first!"

Playfully shrugging, you let go of his hand and grab a basket as you enter. "Watcha fancy?"

"You."

"For dinner, idiot."

"B," Jeongguk sighs as if he really is hard done by. "We've already discussed this. Literally, you."

"Shut up," you laugh, and let the shopping trip descend into chaos. 

Jeongguk just puts whatever catches his eyes into the basket. Gets a kinder egg and a hot wheels car. Will surely just run it over the curves of your body when you're in bed later that evening. Also gets an entire pineapple, and when you raise an eyebrow, he just shrugs. 

"If I don't have a snack before I shower I will die," he assures you. "I'm craving a burger, so you should really be thanking me for the noble sacrifice I'm making. It benefits us both."

"You're an idiot."

"Fine, I'll get a burger."

But when he goes to put the pineapple back, you stop him. Smile. Say, "Pineapple is good."

"That's what I thought," he stands tall and proud, chest puffed, head tilted back. He looks like an asshole but god damn, does he look good doing so. As he peers down at you, you know it'll be a miracle if you even make it to the shower by the time you get home. Want him too bad.

"Stop bickering," you tell him. "Quicker we get home, the quicker we can—"

"Say no more," he nods, taking the basket from you, then zooming off up the aisle. "C'mon, B! Places to be! People to see!"

As he darts off to the next aisle, all you can do is wonder how on earth this is your life.

But it is—and when you finally find him again, standing in line to pay, basket full to the brim from his supermarket sweep, you know that all these changes happening around you really don't matter as long as you have him.

"Alright," you quietly say as you stand beside him, flicking open your phone and heading for your taxi hailing app. "I'll order a taxi. Don't want you to die on the way home."

"Teamwork," Jeongguk smiles. 

"It makes the dream work, or so I heard," you hum with a somewhat smug smile, pleased to be getting exactly what you want: time spent with Jeongguk away from the prying eyes of the three fates.

"Yeah," he quietly says, leaning over to press a kiss against the side of your head. "It sure does."

[listofwhyyouloveher]

Could you do the gang (separate) with an s/o who is a Juggalo/Jugallette? Basically an ICP fan who is considered really violent, batshit insane, carries a hatchet, that sorta crazy stuff?

Summary: The outsiders with a juggal(o)(lette)

Warnings: juggalo (?) , bad juggalo writing

Authors note: 60s icp has to be top tier, also juggalo is such a silly word when you think abt it

++ sorry for the matt dillon jumpscare the photo is just too yummy

PONYBOY is very, very scared of you. He hasn't ever talked to you because he was so scared. Your juggalo makeup is so different from what people normally wear that he just doesn't know what to expect from you. He has to work with you for a school project and he learned that yes, you are as crazy as you look,, but in the best way possible. Darry would end him if he ever painted his face like yours so he just watches you do it all the time.

JOHNNY is also totally freaked out about you but only because he has no clue what to expect from you. He's never heard of ICP or a juggalo before so he has no clue what you're thinking. But when he meets you are the lot he's pleasantly surprised. You were kind when you first met him, but as your friendship evolved he was more and more blown away by your wildness. He found it exhilarating and couldn't wait to introduce you to Dallas. You two always find yourselves admiring switch blades. He's entranced by your amazing collection.

SODAPOP is actually pretty into the ICP kind of music. He hasn't heard of ICP yet, but he likes music similar to it. Which is why he isn't all that freaked out by your makeup. And when he hears you playing ICP from your truck, he confidently struts over to you to ask the band name. After that, you both bond over ICP. He doesn't do the facepaint like you, because he knows Darry and Pony would freak, but he helps you with yours all the time. His dream is to go to a concert with you, and that's when he'd do the makeup.

STEVE is also into music like Sodapop, but he actually knew about ICP and was gatekeeping it. He's so excited to finally see another ICP fan. And you two quickly hit it off. He'll let you do juggalo makeup on him, but he takes it off when he leaves your place because he could get fired. He always shares his recorded ICP songs and he plays them on road trips with you. He's also got a switch with both your initials on it.

TWO BIT is totally freaked out, yet intrigued by your looks. He accidentally made a realllyy big move on you when he was drunk, and not like an arm around the shoulder" move but a really big move. He was surprised how it didn't set you off the next day and started talking to you more and more. He is completely head over heels for you and your crazy sense of humor. His only request is that you remove the makeup for his sister.

DARRY wants to stay as far away from you as possible. He thinks it's a bad look for him and that you'd just get into trouble. He wad right about the trouble part but he completely underestimated how well you two would click. He's conflicted because the things that you do could get Pony and Soda taken from him, but he loves you so much. You eventually have to settle on a compromise. He would totally gift you a switch with yours and his initials on it for self defense only!

DALLY thinks your bathing crazy. He hates girls that actually stand a chance to him. Which is why he finds you so conflicting. He thinks what you're doing is so bad ass and hot, but he can't stand not being in control. You to have an on and off, lovers to enemy romance for years, until you both settle together.

[cupidkenji]

Hi!

I love Doctor, Doctor, please listen! The way you wrote about the differences between the two that were apparent at first and then how they were actually similar! 🫠

Would you be interested in doing a follow up for the same reader who still refuses to carry a gun, but then she and Spencer are in danger and an unsub is about to kill Spencer, so she breaks her rule and uses Spencer’s gun to shoot the unsub? She doesn’t have to shoot to kill, but just to protect Spencer.

Like maybe she got injured first and didn’t defend herself but the moment it’s about to happen to “her Doctor”, she knows what she has to do.

(If youre not interested, totally get it!!!) thank you for reading!

ANON YOU'RE A GENIUS OH MY GOD Pairing: Spencer Reid x Chubby!Fem!reader Cw; Guns, mention of violence towards a kid, reader gets stabbed (again), death mention, mention of reader getting a leg amputated WC: 909 This is a little spin-off of my first fic which you can read here but it can be read as a standalone as well

Things had escalated fast. The team had profiled a calm, rational unsub. She was acting more out of desperation than anything, nobody thought an attack was plausible. You had ruled out a partner early into the investigation, the kills were too mundane for that of two people. Even now, with said partner having killed the unsub, you still wondered how the companion could have possibly hid herself so well. The partner was armed, clearly the dominant of the two, it became an obvious case of master/servant. 

It was just you and Spencer here, Hotch was following close behind but his ETA was around 6 minutes. You didn’t have 6 minutes. She had gotten you good, coming out angry and ready to take out as many as possible. Your leg paid the price as she dove at you. You aimed for the floor, just needing to get out of her way, but you’re about 60% sure she sliced right through your Achilles. It would take all the energy you had to get back up, leaving you stationary and practically useless on the floor. 

The woman was clearly struggling with paranoia. She ditched the knife she struck you with in favor of waving her pistol around. She was incredibly animated as she spoke, throwing her hands in tune with her words as she argued with the air around her. Soon, as though a decision had been made, she set her sights on Spencer. Up until this point, he’d been helping you stop the blood pouring from your leg. You saw her make up her mind, and knew you had to act quick. She was coming for him. 

“Spencer, give me your gun.” You said it quickly and near silently, thanking the heavens he was so close to you. You discreetly laid your hand on the ground, and he placed it on your open palm. His back was towards her, it was up to you to protect him now. 

“You people think the whole world is up for you to dictate, you know that? You can never just let people be.” She was panting, hauling Spencer up from the floor and walking him against the wall at gunpoint. “We were fine! Nobody was ever even meant to get hurt, but you all can never just let people make mistakes.”

You were hiding the gun with your arm, if she saw it she could snap. “We understand mistakes, ma’am. But sometimes people get hurt. Don’t you think it’s fair the people you wronged get some justice?” You tried, but in your professional opinion this woman was already too far gone. 

“No! Don’t say it like that! We didn’t mean to hurt that kid, ok? We just got carried away.” She was rising, there was no talking her down. “You could have let us go, we would have left the country.” It was horrific, she was crying - remorseful. “But now - now I have to kill you and I don’t even want to.”

“Put down the gun, ma’am. Please.” One last bargain. “It doesn’t have to end this way.”

She only cocked the gun as a response, raising her hand to aim the pistol at Spencer’s temple. 

“I’ll make it quick, I promise.”

You didn’t have a choice at this point. This was the first time in your entire career you’d been forced to hurt an unsub. You’d never been anywhere without a team to back you up. This time it was your finger on the trigger. The angle you were aiming from - crooked, while lying on the floor - made it incredibly difficult to predict where the bullet would end up. You aimed low, crossing your fingers it would shock her away from Spencer. She can’t hurt him. It was the only thought left in your head. Please don’t hurt him.

–

You found yourself in the back of an ambulance. Again. The wound was more severe this time, Spencer glued to your side for the trip to the ER. You were going to need surgery to repair the nerve damage she caused.

“I hate hospitals.” Dread pooled in your gut at the thought of going under the knife. Spencer looked at you appalled. He couldn’t believe you were complaining about the service that was going to save you from an amputated leg. Or in other words, he was panicking. 

“Are you kidding me? You’ve lost enough blood to fill half a milk carton, Y/n! The fact they think you’re going to keep your leg means you got luckier than 67.2% of patients with similar stab wounds. Have a little gratuity.” His face was flushed, the hand gestures that usually accompanied his words were otherwise forgotten about. 

“Spencer, I’m gonna be ok.” You looked in his eyes from where you laid on the stretcher. Sounding out each word a little more purposefully in order to calm him down. 

“You shot someone. You’ve never even had to detain someone. I know how much you prioritize peace, Y/n.” Ah, so that’s why he was worked up. 

“Spence.” You laughed a bit - endearingly - at how worried he was about you breaking a vow. “She was going to hurt you. I would have killed her if I had to.” He looked so fragile in the vehicle’s stark lighting.

“Really? You mean that?” The kinder way of saying would you have done that for the others? 

You smiled at his words. “Only for you, Doc.”

[misaneeragoni]

One Piece - Favourite characters + headcannons!

My favourite characters in a tierlist!

Listed by:

Marriage material

Best friend material

Want it as my pet

Cute as a mitten

Scarily attractive

Parent material

Left to right is decreasing in how much I'd like them to be the respective thing.

Now, for those who care (why do you? I'm a nobody, haha), here's an extensive list of reasons! + headcannons for how they'd act in these respective roles.

Marriage material

Doflamingo

Doflamingo is usually second to Kidd in my personal preference, but right now I'm on a big Doflamingo simping spree, probably due to the fact that I'm finally watching Dressrosa for the first time.

I imagine he's either a full on possessive, manipulative and absolutely terrifying husband, or you end up as a trophy wife and he barely pays you any mind, but you know what, I'd be fine with that. Chance of being killed by him: 60%.

Corazon / Rosinante

All I know about him so far is entirely through fanart and small spoilers! I think he'd be a very affectionate husband, the type to bring you small gifts (and ocassionally panic because he left the gift he bought at the cash register).

He totally has a thing for taking in stray animals and giving them a loving home, if it's cats or dogs he keeps tripping over them.

Eustass Kidd

Now Kidd will love you very very deeply and beat up every single person that dares to even make a mean joke about you, but he's also incredibly bad at showing that he cares.

He's gotta look cool, so in public he'll either act like you're just very good friends or that you're some sort of trophy wife, but amidst the crew or especially in private he gets very affectionate and clingy - being physical is so much easier than expressing yourself verbally!

He doesn't mind sharing you with Killer, but if a stranger so much as dares look at you flirtatiously they'll be lucky if they make it out alive.

Ace

Getting together with Ace is already very difficult. He keeps telling you he's not worthy of your love, so you shouldn't love him, let alone date him.

By the time you've gotten him to agree to get married, he's become a little more accepting of your love, even if those doubts never really fully go away.

He's constantly planning fun trips for the both of you and will show you off like a kid would show off their paintings. All of the Whitebeard Pirates are sick and tired of hearing about how awesome you are at this point.

Sanji

I don't think I can add anything new to this. He's constantly swooning over you and spoiling you to the moon and beyond. You get breakfast in bed, you get carried around the second your feet are the tiniest bit sore, and overall he's just so over the moon to have you that sometimes you think you're in heaven.

He's a total family man so if there's kids around you know they're getting spoiled just as much as you are. He thrives when he gets to care for others, and having his own little family makes him incredibly happy.

Sometimes you need to remind him to take it easy and stop doing so much work for everyone because he'll absolutely overdo it and put himself last.

Smoker

He is very gruff and not one for talking all that much. Oftentimes when you tell him things you'll get one of a variety of grunts in response, that you've learned to translate well over the course of your marriage.

You either get to travel with him as a marine spouse or stay safe on an island he helped you get settled down on. If you're staying on an island he's taken extra security measures and has figured out a way to have smoke permanently cloud the area around the house so noone can even find it to begin with.

He's very concerned for your safety and it shows that it's his top priority. He prefers being physically affectionate, but will ocassionally give you small yet meaningful compliments. ("You're the best.") He's usually got some small thing to bring back to you from whatever island he was last on (flowers, sweets, meaningful little gifts), but he really doesn't want you to make a big deal out of it.

Eneru / Enel

You may be married to him, but he's still god. You may be his favourite disciple, but you're still a disciple regardless. You're expected to address him using a formal title of respect and if you fail to meet his expectations you will be punished accordingly.

He does appreciate you worshipping him, but it's more transactional than a genuine loving marriage.

Best friend material!

Trafalgar Law

I found it pretty hard to choose between marriage material and best friend for Law. I do really like him, but for me personally I think he's a bit too freaky to want to be married to him. (See post-marineford: "This will be a fun operation" + manic grin).

If we're talking One Piece Party or One Piece Academy Law's personality, then sure, I'll marry that man, but cannon Law seems a bit too closed off to ever even get close enough to get to date or marry him in the first place. Keep in mind, I'm only like halfway through Dressrosa, I don't know this man's arc yet.

As a best friend, I think he's awesome. He's weird, ocassionally stoic, but also unintentionally hilarious with the way he acts, and he's the king of dry jokes. You wouldn't expect it of him, but he can be the life of the party when he wants to be.

Killer

Another tough choice between marriage and best friend! Ultimately it came down to me simply preferring Kidd's personality in marriage, whereas I do think I'm too similar to Killer and would lack excitement with him.

That's not to say there is no excitement with his man, cause there is! He's the type to support whatever crazy shenanigans you may be going for, even if he'll ocassionally hold you back from doing something that might backfire a bit too much.

If loyalty had a face it would be Killer's, you could not ask for a better best friend.

Hancock

Hancock is absolutely vicious in how she speaks of others. Which makes her the very best girl friend to have for talking shit behind people's backs! She's very funny when she does so, even if you have to put up with her major streaks of egomania all the time.

Crocodile

Do you need somebody to be assassinated? Just hit up your buddy Crocodile. He'll have his agents take care of it for you discreetly. He's a very relaxed man if he feels safe about you.

If you like to talk a lot he'll tell you to shut the hell up, but if you sit together in silence he'll think that you're very cool and companionable.

He likes to invite you out to fancy dinners, although he does expect you to dress and act the part. He doesn't tolerate fools, so if you want to remain his friend you'll have to act dignified.

Mihawk

Mihawk likes to keep you at arm's length, but he's okay with ocassionally having deep philosophical discussions together over a glass of wine.

You exchange reading recommendations with one another but mostly you both do your own things. Oftentimes you're the one that has to reach out to him to initiate contact, he's a little lazy in taking care of his social circle.

Perona

She'll only accept you as her friend if she deems you cute enough for that. Once you've gotten over the part where she wants you to do all her bidding, she's surprisingly fun to be around. She's always up for pranks and her devil fruit makes it very easy to pull them off!

I'm going to skip over the remaining characters here seeing as I don't have any ideas as to what would make them special as best friends. I've listed all of these as best friends because they've shown great loyalty (and sense of honour).

Want it as my pet

Bepo

I feel a little bad putting Bepo in the "pet" category here. He'd make an amazing best friend just the same as everyone listed in that category, I just view him as polar bear first, mink second.

And he does share some traits with say, a pet dog. His fur sheds everywhere and you constantly have to clean your clothes to get rid of it, he's constantly asking for your attention and hugs (and will apologize if you tell him off cause you don't have the time!) and sometimes wants to sit on your lap despite the fact that he's huge and very heavy.

Zoro

Zoro also shares a lot of traits with dogs. He's fiercely protective, loyal to the bitter end, he cares for his food and drink more than most other things and small things such as getting a drink make him very happy. He's low maintenance, so long as you feed him, let him train in peace and ocassionally scratch his scalp he's very content.

That said, you do need to put him on a leash when you go anywhere with him. He's very indignified by it, but you just know he's going to wander off and get lost otherwise.

Any other pets listed literally just have the reason: "omg it's so cute" or "omg it's so dorky", except for Shushu, who just absolutely deserves the world and if I think about him too much I'm going to start crying. That little dog has the most tragic story in all of One Piece.

Cute as a mitten

This category is both optional as best friends as well as lovers / marriage material.

Bartolomeo

As a best friend he'll go through thick and thin with you. His manners make it very embarassing to be around him sometimes, unless you have absolutely no shame. Secretly you think he's kinda cool for how he just doesn't give a shit though.

As your husband - oh boy. He wouldn't settle for marrying somebody he likes less than he does the Strawhats, so he absolutely dotes on you. Think Sanji, except instead of having cool moments this one's a complete slobbering mess all of the time. He'll do anything for you - but you'll also be drooled on. A lot.

Penguin

As a best friend, he's always there for any type of mischief you might be wanting to do. In fact most of the time he's the one suggesting new ideas. Especially if it comes to peeping on women. That's a secret guilty pleasure of his.

As your husband, even after you've been married to him for some years, he still becomes a shy mess from time to time. He's very respectful and polite and still can't really believe his luck that he scored somebody like you.

Marguerite

Marguerite is just so freaking adorable. The way the English dub of Amazon Lily portrayed her was definitely like she had a crush on Luffy, and those two are honestly my favourite Luffy x ship. She saved him from drowning, he saved her from remaining stone for the rest of her life and they get along very well. Also, she has a danger noodle. I love danger noodles.

Shachi

Now Shachi isn't so different from Penguin, seeing as these two have practically spent all of their lives together. Their mothers were good friends so they even got to share a crib from time to time, and it shows.

Shachi is a little more bold and confident than Penguin and will flirt abrasively with every woman he comes across. Not that he's very good at it, in fact he's rather quite bad at it. Who knew that pick-up lines were so unsuccessful? Shachi sure doesn't, and he's a bit too oblivious to catch on.

Baby 5

As her friend, you need to make sure she doesn't make horrible decisions all of the time. It's pretty exhausting, but she's a good listener and can make really funny creations with her devil fruit so she totally makes up for it.

Ikkaku

Ikkaku is always down for a good time. She's a very enthusiastic wing-woman, even if she overdoes it sometimes.

Katakuri

No idea what he's like, I'm only at Dressrosa after all. I did see fanart of him extending his jaw to eat donuts though, which just looks so dorky and so cute, so I've thrown him into this category.

Kaku

Kaku is the best. From his old-fashioned expressions to overall just being very polite and cute, this giraffe man has it all. He's very prim and proper, but he's also down to earth and a great friend to have a round.

He reminds me of Peter Parker (Spiderman) a little. A bit of a dorky nerd, but very lovable regardless.

Scarily attractive

I don't mean just attractive. I'm actually scared of these characters. There's not much to say beyond base attraction here, so I'll quickly go over them.

Domino - has one of my favourite designs in the whole series. Maybe I just like women in uniforms, who knows. We don't know anything about her beyond her seeming strict and being attracted to Hancock.

Sady - again, attraction to women in uniform, I guess. Even if hers is a little extreme. I just love the bangs covering her face so much and her colours work great together.

Monet - BIRB!!!! I love Birbs. Especially Harpies. And she looks so freaking good with those silly glasses!

Carmen - Oh, Carmen. What a lovely lady she was! It's a shame she's gone forever now. Maybe she was filler? I'm not sure. Sanji should have adopted her.

Kuro - I wish him being a strategist had been explored a little further, in terms of what strategic exploits he'd been up to in the past. Well, basically I just want more Kuro content. I feel like he's exactly the sort of psychopath that will stab you with a knife while you're kissing him. Very hot!

Caesar - Generally I do feel scared of folks who might commit genocide while I'm in their vicinity. But his design looks freaking awesome!

Kalifa - That's one sexy lady. How freaking dare she hurt Sanji, though!!

Sexy Arlong sister shark lady - Oh my god her eye looks so cool, and so does her shark tail thingy!!

Viola - Dancers are just cool in the first place, and Viola's going against Doffy, the man who oppressed her for so many years, is just admirable.

Lovely lady from Viper's squad on Skypeia - She's cool, brave and fearless! Why am I scared of her again?

Parent material

There's not much to say for why I want these characters as parents except for I think they would make good ones. Some of these we have as parents in cannon - Bellemere with Nami, Zeff with Sanji, Dadan with Ace, Sabo and Luffy, Viper with that little girl - and for the others I just have small reasons, pretty much.

Iceburg - he'd totally make his secretary change the baby's diapers because he's too lazy (and grossed out) to do it, but he'd still be there for you when he needed to (and couldn't delegate the work to anyone else).

Robin - would want to compensate for not having any parents of her own (that were ever around), so she'd be extra careful to make sure her child received all the love it would need and would never have to undergo the years of loneliness like she did. She'd read you a lot of stories and would encourage you to read from an early age.

Sometimes she enjoys the kid's books far more than you do.

Hina - no good reason, just strong sense of justice, strict and ocassionally funny mom to have.

Duval - no good reason either, but a very funny stupid dad to have.

Paulie - would need to overcome his indignity of seeing any woman showing skin to have a kid in the first place, but he'd be very careful to make sure his kid grew up right (and would dress up properly if it was a girl!)

Magellan - he's shown great responsibility and carefulness in leading Impel Down right. He might have some issues making time for parenting between being the Warden and sitting on the toilet all day, but he'd make it work. Maybe make Hannyabal do some of the dirty work for him.

If you've made it this far - thank you so much for reading!! I really wanted to throw my headcannons of these characters in the respective positions out into the void. Have a lovely day!

[maxdibert]

Sev's fandom is so vast that it’s incredibly rewarding to feed my obsessive hyperfocus on him. I discovered that he has many ships, which was surprising but not unpleasant. Snulciber, Snegulus, and Snetunia were the ones that caught my attention the most as a newcomer, especially Snegulus and Snulciber. I love the idea of chaotic Slytherins starting a relationship based on mutual misunderstandings and actually gaining something meaningful from it, but unfortunately, I’ve never found anything along those lines.

What do you think about Severus and Regulus or Severus and Mulciber? Do you think there’s good potential there or not?

I also came across Severus ships with the Marauders, and although I don’t personally like them, I still find them unsatisfying. I hate how, in long fanfics, Severus’s trauma is never properly explored. It feels like he always has to swallow everything that happened to him in favor of the couple’s development. I wish there were more angst, self-hatred, and revulsion, both from Severus and his chosen partner. It feels unrealistic when they don’t allow his character to carry his trauma and deal with it at his own pace. Not to mention the half-hearted apologies I’ve seen from the Marauders in some stories. What do you think about that?

I also came across fem!Severus tags, and I must admit I’m hooked. It’s a shame I haven’t found any good fanfics about it. What’s your opinion on that?

As I said, the fandom and the ideas people have surrounding him are so fascinating to me. There’s so much potential to explore.

The Severus/Mulciber ship is as old as the creation of the continents hahaha. Look, I’ve always been fine with bisexual Severus, especially with that line Rowling mentioned about Severus wanting Lily but also wanting Mulciber. It has potential, and canonically, they got along, and Severus saw something in Mulciber that he desired — however you choose to interpret that. So, honestly, I don’t think it’s a crack ship at all!

I find it curious that people in the new Marauders fandom assume Regulus would have gotten along badly with Severus, when it’s far more likely they had a cordial relationship. Maybe Regulus was even nice to him just to spite his brother. Honestly, I can totally see a scenario where, after Sirius ran away from home, Regulus confronted him at some point when he was bothering Severus — just for the sheer pleasure of annoying him. I’m pretty sure nobody could handle Sirius Black, but if his brother stepped in, Sirius might think twice, simply because Regulus would know all his weaknesses.

It’s not a pairing I’ve thought much about, but hey, why not? It makes a hundred times more sense than Jegulus, and in the end, they were only a year apart, shared the same house, and probably had mutual friends. And Sirius would have had an aneurysm if he ever found out they were or had been involved — which is a bonus for shipping them, hahahahaha.

Severus pairings with any of the Marauders seem problematic to me for obvious reasons, since shipping a victim with their bully isn’t something I’m particularly fond of. That said, I understand Snirius because they have a lot in common while having diametrically opposed personalities. They love in very similar ways, and both have explosive tempers in their own ways, so the dynamic could be really interesting if handled well. My issue with Snirius is that the fics I’ve read don’t really explore Severus’s trauma or the consequences it would have on a relationship. If I were to write about that pairing, it would be a long fic where 60% of the plot is pure drama about how Sirius’s past as Severus’s bully is the main problem in the relationship — because it should be. The few fics I’ve read have left me pretty unsatisfied in that regard because Sirius repents way too quickly, and everything is resolved as if nothing happened, or the issue isn’t even properly addressed. Sorry, but that’s just not realistic.

I can’t see Snupin, though — I have something personal against Lupin, ironically, because he’s the one people have been headcanoning as queer since the dawn of time. But to me, he’s the most straightforwardly, absolutely, and completely heterosexual character because there’s nothing more straight for a man than leaving a pregnant woman and running off. For that reason alone, I can’t see him with anyone but a woman. Sorry, he’s the Ted Mosby of the wizarding world.

And with James, it’s just a no. Like, absolutely not. If you want an enemies-to-lovers dynamic, you already have Sirius, who’s at least mentally unwell and deeply depressed. James and Severus have nothing in common personality-wise — they’re completely incompatible.