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kabr0ztrousers · 4 months ago

Note

Hi there!

I’ve been reading your work and I had a potential smut story idea but you can totally say no!!

I was thinking either a Fem!Human x Male!Naga smut story buuuut I was wondering if you could do it so that somehow the reader (fem human) has been scientifically altered to try and make it easier for the human race to survive where Nagas live? (Like on a different planet or extreme weather conditions)

So like the reader has fangs, some scales on her body, claws, snake eyes etc but she’s still ‘human’ if that makes sense? And she’s supposed to kind of throw herself at the Naga for some kind of research/scientific thing that “will help humanity” (some kind of breeding research) but she’s totally not on board at ALL but then the Male Naga just watches her and offers her food/water (maybe she’s struggling to adapt to the changes the scientists made?) and then he helps her learn to survive etc but then him helping her accidentally triggers her heat (maybe a side effect of being an experiment) and then one thing leads to another…..

Fem!Naga reader x Male!Naga but the reader was raised in some kind of laboratory (she’s like some kind of super rare Naga breed/colouring or she has a super rare venom/defence mechanism) and is no longer connected to her Naga instincts despite being a Naga and then one day a ‘wild’ Male Naga sees her in her enclosure and becomes interested/obsessed with her and tries to break her free but she’s just so used to being in the lab (but she has an ‘outside’ area and that’s how the male sees her) that she doesn’t do anything and then the male just gets super curious about her and kind of keeps sneaking in and out of her enclosure to spend time with her and teach her what her instincts mean and how to reconnect to them, which eventually triggers her heat…..

I would absolutely love it if you could write one or both of these! But there’s no stress especially if you don’t like them or it makes you uncomfortable!!

Thank you so much for reading this and have a blessed day 💕💕

Thanks for your suggestions! I'm gonna aim at the first one to start off with, and might return to do the second at a later date, we'll see how things shake out

Kabr0z Writes episode 41: Dances with Snakes

Find the rest of the Kabr0z Writes anthology here!

CWs: slightly colonialist pov; breeding; interspecies; miscommunication; human hybrid pov

A/N: Per usual, just a reminder that my ask and DMs are open for suggestions and requests, limits are in my pinned comment but anything that doesn't cross those lines is OK, and likely to get made

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The sun glittered off your scales as you checked the windcatcher. You have a high affinity for bio-modification, so when high command needed to dispatch a researcher to an arid sandbox of a planet like Gliese IV you were a no-brainer. 20 years in hibernation was plenty of time for the plasmid vectors to do their work, and when you woke you were like this. The levels were nominal, as always, and once you'd shaken out the filters you had plenty of time to look over the landscape around you. Your slit-pupils were perfect in the unforgiving daylight, shiny scaled skin that would never burn, even venomous fangs and a cobra frill you could extend from your shoulders up to your hairless head if you so choose. The plasmids worked miracles, though the biochemists back home just called it science.

A shadow danced in the basin below your weather station. A tribe of the indigenous life. You were meant to be analysing them while on the planet, but it hardly seemed worth your time. They were hunters, seemingly obligate carnivores, barely in their stone age. Every so often they'd come close to your machinery and you'd have to drive them off with your particle caster, it didn't have enough kick to permanently wound anything that big, but it sure made a loud noise and a lot of sparks. Eventually though, your relief would arrive, and there'd be hell to pay if you didn't get the data you were asked for.

You sighed, your modified vocal cords lending a hissing tremolo to the act. It wouldn't be so bad if you were just meant to sneak in and do some anthropology. Command wanted you to infiltrate their society, learn what makes them tick, see if they'd be candidates to join your burgeoning galactic community.

The windcatcher buzzed behind you as sand whipped up the slope, generating power and a trickle of precious drinking water.

You opened a compartment on the device and withdrew a canteen of fresh, tepid water. More valuable on this world than the gold veining the rocks, worn liberally by the natives below.

There wasn't any wood here either, there were some plants here and there, clinging to bedrock and filtering water from the air much like your windcatchers. The lack of readily flammable material or arable ground doomed the locals to brutal, competitive, and short lives.

You started down to them. They had definitely seen you, perception was a vital survival skill out here, and made no attempt to avoid you as you crossed the couple of hundred meters to where they were resting. Their camp was simple enough, the planet had almost no precipitation, so shelter meant windbreaks. Long strips of hide joined with sinew thread and glue derived from animal carcasses, held up with bone. Two of them stood either side of the camp entrance.

They didn't look too dissimilar to you. They were also large and scaled, but while you were golden, they were a sandy brown. They too had no body hair and eyes like a snakes. The biggest difference was below the waist, instead of legs they had long coiling tails, allowing them to move quickly and efficiently over the shifting sands, while your feet were liable to sink and slide in places. They didn't wear clothes, early humans only started wearing furs to shield themselves from the cold and the rain, neither of those things existed here, only wind and the sand it carried.

You held out your offering to them. The aluminium canteen of fresh water. The guards took it and opened the lid, sniffing at the contents, dipping a clawed finger and tasting a drop.

Their eyes widened. They stood aside and let you in, hissing in deference to you and the wealth you brought for them.

The leader's hut, such as it was, stood in the centre of the compound. They always built the same shape, more or less, and your drone flights had taught you everything you needed to know about how to get around.

Head held aloft, not looking at any of the other denizens of the village, you strode up the central thoroughfare. Your coat billowing in the funnelled breeze, the particle caster on your right hip, the flask on your left. You wished you had a Stetson to complete the look.

You hissed loudly outside the leader's hut, and the gate in the ring of hides opened for you. You strode in, not regarding the large snake men either side of the door, you'd crafted a semi-deific persona for yourself with your tech and your strange look, you were going to keep it as long as you could.

The leader was scarred and pale, one of his eyes damaged and milky-white. You stepped forward and opened the flask, giving it to him. He sipped from the opening. His eyes widened too, scarcely believing what he was holding before stuffing the stopper back in the flask and swiftly burying it in the sand below him. He'd just gone from leader of a clan to the wealthiest man on the planet. He hissed at you, your grasp of their language wasn't perfect, but you could understand the gist. He wanted to know what you wanted in return.

You answered, you were pretty sure you said something along the lines of travel, or join, maybe? He became agitated by this, hissing loudly at his guards. Your hand shot to your particle caster as you spun into a shooting stance. The guards were gone.

You put the caster away. The leader was trying not to look at you. The gate opened again behind you, a slender female took your hand and dragged you out of the tent to another a little ways away. You were showered with gold jewellery, mostly scraps of gold ore tied with sinew, worn around the neck or on the wrists, they even tied them around your ankles, despite probably never having been this close to a person with legs before. Once every extremity was adorned with glittering stones and sinew, a headdress was planted on your head and you were ushered out of the tent.

Now you were near the gate to the compound, the path to the leader's hut was clear, flanked by hissing serpents. A gentle push urged you on, and you walked. The jewels rattled against one another as you walked, snake people daubing you with thick paste as you passed them. You held your pace, stately, unhurried. It was definitely a ritual of some sort, and didn't feel like one that should be rushed.

Step by step, you strode onwards, every time you passed someone they smeared another streak of the dark reddish paste, smelling like a mixture of blood and sand.

You made it to the leader's hut. The rest of the tribe surrounded you, swaying and hissing rhythmically.

The chief emerged from his tent. He was also daubed in the dark red, festooned in gold and sinew, a headdress resting like a crown on his brow. He slid forwards and took your left hand in his before being passed a bowl of a thick reddish liquid. It stank of blood. He drank, the liquid flowing from the sides of his mouth, adding to the stains on his body before handing you the bowl.

Everyone was looking at you. You brought the bowl to your lips and drank. Whatever the biochemists did to you, you're glad it turned off your gag reflex. The bowl was filled with some sort of liquor: coppery-tasting, thick, and definitely alcoholic.

You drained the bowl, the last of the liquid flowing down your throat and down the corners of your mouth.

Your head started to swim, the edges of the world became softer. A heat grew within your belly and you fell into the leader's arms.

Back in his hut, you lay on the sandy floor, the heat of the sand warming you as you stared at the leader while he stared back at you. You crawled over to him, the heat and tightness in your belly growing. He was looking at you with half-lidded eyes as he lazily rolled onto his back.

Your hands slipped into his genital slit, feeling the thick rod of his cock and slipping it out, stroking it gently as it pulsed and rose. As it reached its peak, another popped out, taking its place below the first. You took the upper one in your mouth, right hand pumping the lower as the leader hissed contentedly, he was saying something, but you didn't care enough to try and translate it. If it's important, he'd tell you again later.

The leader had no such philosophy. He grabbed you by the waist and dangled you over his cocks, lining the top one up with your cunt as the lower one teased your asshole.

You didn't resist, you could feel your scales dripping wetness over the cocks below you, licking your fingers and rubbing them against your asshole to try and lubricate it a little before nodding at the leader.

He lowered you down, taking his time as his tapered cocks filled both of your holes. Your ass clenched against him, but the gradual thickening and your arousal let you push him in against your protesting sphincter.

You were only halfway down when you started to rock back and forth on his cocks, feeling them rub against each other inside you as you probed them around inside you. You weren't as used to your new body as you were when you were fully human, the erogenous zones were in slightly different places. Where the cocks pushed against each other sent thrilling shivers up your spine

You were made for this, designed for it.

You rocked faster, feeling his cock tease the entrance to your womb. He reared up, coiling and holding your hips horizontally against him. His muscular body thrust up to you, arms swinging you into his cocks as he used your holes. The world spun faster as you looked up at him, your breathing quickening as your body clenched and tightened.

A hiss, deep and breathy, escaped you. You felt yourself give in to him, your cunt milking his cock as he lost control and buried himself in you.

Both cocks were pulsing, sending streams of hot fluids into you. Squirt after squirt he filled you. His semen was much thicker than you were used to, you could feel it coating your insides, like being filled with jello.

At last he pulled out, the thick spunk staying put inside you, forming a semi-solid plug in both holes that your cunt and ass muscles clenched against, sending post-orgasmic throbs through you.

You curled up on him as he wrapped himself around you.

It's three months later now. You lay your clutch a few days ago. You figured out a day or two that you'd probably married into the tribe, but given how compatible your biology was with theirs, that was probably the idea. You'd started teaching them the technical manuals for the wind traps, the satellite uplinks, the deep drilling rigs, and all the other tech you'd been inserted with. If they were going to treat you like a living goddess, you may as well use your scripture for something useful. Command hasn't been in touch, maybe you'd been abandoned here?

You shrug, staring into the sunset with your husband, clad in the clattering jewellery of your tribe, surrounded by your adoptive family.

You'll never be lonely again

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Well done for making it this far! This is the longest thing I've written all year, and I doubt I'll be doing another one this long either.

Again, if you want to suggest almost anything, shoot me a DM or an ask (DMs are better if you want to workshop something and get it just so, asks are better for drive-by horn)

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clubdionysus · 11 months ago

Text

[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."

150 notes · View notes

umbramoons · 26 days ago

Text

TECH MOMENTS PT. 26

The Bad Batch S2 E9: The Crossing

This is a bigger post, but I'm not sorry, it's my personal favorite so far. This is MY Tech episode. Possibly my favorite episode out of the entire series, honestly. It just has such a comforting feeling to me.

- Something about the way he brushes the dust off those controls ❤

- Even though he would like Wrecker’s help in the mine, he recognizes that Omega shouldn’t be alone out there and doesn’t argue when Hunter tells Wrecker to stay outside with her.

- "Looks like Cid was deceived into purchasing an already depleted mine."

- The way he points to the ipsium and looks up at it is cute for some reason. ❤

- “Omega, we require your assistance.” I love it when he asks his little sister for help.

- He has to stand on his toes to reach up to Hunter. ❤

- “Good. Again.”

- That little shared glance with Omega when Hunter says it’s time to leave. He pays attention to her. ❤

- The way he instantly notices whenever Hunter senses something.

- Lol, he runs when he realizes his ship is being stolen.

- "Tell me, Wrecker. How exactly did you miss our ship being compromised?" Ooo, he's getting snippy. ❤

- "Well, there was no other suitable landing zone, Wrecker."

- He’s the one with information about Echo’s current circumstances.

- "You must protect the ipsium case!"

- Even though he’s the one who told Wrecker to cover the ipsium, and he’s not too happy with him right now, he’s still clearly nervous for his brother.

- Tech: "I would advise not dropping it next time."

Wrecker: "Why don't you carry it?"

Tech: "Fine." ❤

- “Well. That would certainly explain the stampede.” He says as he looks up at the storm in terror.

- Can we just appreciate how strong Tech is? He's running with that huge case like it's nothing. ❤

- Tech: “So. Now we are trapped. And we have lost all of our ipsium.”

Wrecker: "Well, I- I suppose that's my fault too?"

Tech: "Well, technically, yes." Tech’s sass makes a glorious reappearance (even if he's not completely right here). ❤

- Tech may seem like a lot right now, but the Marauder was really special to him, too. He'd put every bit of himself into all those modifications and spent hours finding the best ways to repair it quickly. It only makes sense that he would be frustrated after losing it.

- The fact that he’s moving rocks that huge is crazy. Seriously, we don’t give him enough credit for how strong he is.

- "We can always acquire another ship." …Optimism? (He's trying to convince himself as much as Omega. This is his thought process to calm himself about the situation, so he thinks it's the right approach for her, too.)

- He looks surprised and a tiny bit concerned at Omega’s outburst about the Marauder being their home.

- He looks a little hurt when Omega throws the datapad back at him. Sorry, dear, but you kind of deserved that.

- He just goes back to moving rocks because he doesn't know what else to do. But you can see that he knows what he did was wrong. He just doesn’t know how to fix it in the moment. So he makes himself useful.

- Even though Tech and Wrecker aren’t getting along, they still automatically step in to help each other.

- "Fine. Since losing the mineral was my mistake, I will search for any potential extractions within this mine." Taking responsibility! ❤

- "Very well." He's not looking forward to talking to Omega. He loves her, but he knows he's not good at this kind of interaction.

- That little pause before going to talk to Omega. He's nervous about saying the wrong thing again.

- His voice gets so soft when he says her name that second time. Now he can really see how much he upset her, because she's doing what he would do. Throwing herself into a task to distract herself. ❤

- He’s nervous about Omega being surrounded by so much ipsium.

- Omega came up with the same idea as him. Tech must be proud.

- He trusts her to get the ipsium and knows she is capable.

- That tiny smile when she agrees to get more ipsium. This is progress!

- He immediately rushes over when he sees she’s about to fall and his face gets so panicked when he sees her dangling over the edge. ❤

- NOT HESITATING TO JUMP INTO THE DARKNESS AFTER OMEGA. ❤

- You can see him grab his nose right before he hits the water, and I don’t know why, but that’s cute to me. Maybe because I always have to do the same thing if I ever go underwater.

- He grabs onto Omega to make sure she doesn’t drown. ❤

- He looks genuinely terrified as the current drags them away. But you can see him constantly looking back at Omega. He’s more afraid for her than he is for himself.

- Shaking the water out of his goggles was cute. I really want to see him take them off so I can see his handsome face without them. ❤

- “We took an unforeseen detour, but we are alive.”

- Hunter: “Where are you?”

Tech: “That… is a good question. Stand by.”

- He keeps looking over at Omega to make sure she’s okay. ❤

- He’s just looking at (admiring?) the glowing water before he gets up to follow Omega. Just like he was staring up at the stars back in Clone Wars. Does he like shiny things? ❤

- He acknowledges that Omega was responsible for getting the ipsium that will make a way out for them, subtly praising her work.

- He didn’t have to sit next to Omega while he waited for the others, but he sat down right next to her. He even reassures her that they’ll be out soon.

- “We will figure out a solution, as we always do.” ❤

- “I… am not sure how I should care about change. It is a fundamental part of life.” ❤

- When Omega brings up Echo, Tech puts his hand down next to her. It’s like he wants to comfort her, but isn’t feeling up to touching her just yet. ❤

- “I… am aware that you miss him, but we have to adapt and move on. That is what soldiers do.” ❤

- He didn’t just agree when Omega said they’re a family. He said, “Of course we are.” He even leans closer when he says it. ❤

- I love how they really made him pause and think about his answer when Omega asks why he doesn’t act like they’re a family. He’s genuinely taken aback and knows he needs to get this right. It's difficult for him to explain.

- “Echo chose a different path. As did Crosshair. I have to respect their decision. Even though it can be difficult to understand, we must carry on.” I LOVE that Tech brought up Crosshair! He misses his brother so much! ❤

- “I may process moments and thoughts differently, but it does not mean that I feel any less than you.” This makes me feel so many things. I feel like crying because this conversation is so needed and sweet. I feel overjoyed because we’re finally getting a glimpse into Tech’s emotional side. ❤

- “If the shot is not precise, it will cause another cave-in.” He’s the steadiest shot after Crosshair. I bet they used to hang out at the range. Like, maybe he used to not be as good, and Crosshair was like, "no squadmate of mine is going to struggle with a blaster. Come on, we're training." And that's why they're as close as they are. ❤

- Tech and Omega are BONDED now!

- That little look he shares with Omega when they’re looking up at the array.

- He’s not taking any of Cid’s crap. He’s like “Oh, no, you don’t; you owe us.”

- His smile when Omega repeats his words and says that they’ll figure it out. ❤

#tech moments #tech tuesday #the bad batch #tbb #sw the bad batch #star wars tbb #bad batch #tbb tech #star wars #sw tbb #tech bad batch #tech tbb #bad batch tech

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suk1b0n-kach00 · 5 months ago

Note

Do you have any headcannons for the delinquent road hazards? Like how they met or what they like to do outside of causing trouble?

(Your human designs for them are amazing btw!)

DELINQUENT ROAD HAZARDS HEADCANONS

BOOST

His actual name is Marco Shirubia.

He is half Latino. His dad is from Brazil, his mom from Japan.

Surprisingly, he seems to be a gentle giant around kids, knowing how to keep them at peace, make them stop crying, etc. Perhaps this trait comes from his old caretaker job at the retirement home.

He has a hidden booze stash in his room.

He calls his S/O “toots” (if only he had one…).

He loves jewelry, but only when it doesn’t penetrate the skin. His preferred jewlery types are chain necklaces and rings.

He likes to get his fashion customized. That’s why he has a big, clunky, obnoxiously-purple chain-necklace with his name in broad letters. That’s why he also has a massive magenta-purple paint splatter on the back of his leather jacket, the letters barely writing out ‘BOOST’.

His handwriting SUCKS.

He is a VERY hairy man. Seriously, this man is a whole bush.

Originally, Boost didn’t want to do anything to his hair, but Wingo convinced him to try something new. Wingo helped him with dyeing his roots purple. Boost loved it so much that he decided to keep it. But to this day Wingo couldn’t convince him to even get his ears pierced.

His real name is Devon Jōnetsu. He came up with the name Devon Montgomery Johnston the Third as a joke, but he sounded so convincing that people started believing him.

He's a rich kid. His parents pay off his education.

He’s the craziest of them all. Think of him as the unhinged friend with the biggest cursed images gallery.

He is fully Japanese. And he’s fluent in Japanese (and Yapanese).

He later wears blue-purple contacts, because he’s convinced that they fit his face better than his naturally dark brown (basically almost black) eyes.

He still attends college. As a side job, he works as a - you guessed it - DJ. People love the shows he puts on and they LOVE his energy. His performing schedule is always PACKED.

He likes making playlists for his homies.

When he was a young kid, his parents made him learn the piano. At first, he was playing strictly classical music, but it slowly shifted to covers of more modern songs. Nowadays he uses his skills to create own music in his free time (mainly on a synthesizer).

Out of everyone he swears the most.

He is a player. He doesn't do long-term.

WINGO

His full name is Wingo Nisshoku.

He is Half-White Half Asian (specifically Japanese).

He struggles with romantic affection. He WILL get scared to approach the person he finds attractive. If communication ever happens, it’s usually very awkward and he tries to change topics immediately.

He dropped out of college and works as a piercer and tattoo artist.

He dabbles into car modification. He has a collection of books that all revolve around different car mods (engine performance, …). His favorite part is of course designing paintjobs and installing spoilers.

His fuel to function are energy drinks.

He has piercings EVERYWHERE. Ears, tongue, … and more.

He likes to experiment with hairstyles – but the green roots and purple tips always stay.

He dyes his own hair, but he also dyes Boost’s roots and DJ’s mohawk.

An ambivert, all the way. He’s definitely cocky a lot and likes to show off his style, but most of the times he likes to be in deep focus mode. When he’s piercing/tattooing somebody, he is mostly absolutely silent. Depending on the customer it can be comforting or very awkward.

His natural hair color is light brown, but he never liked to leave it just as is. Before the green-purple style he bleached his tips blonde.

The whole gang smokes, but he smokes the most (mainly due to stress).

SNOT ROD

His actual name is Rodger O'Reilly.

He is an American, but has Irish roots.

He likes to write poetry, even if the rhymes do seem kinda sappy.

He’s really into 70s aesthetics. It’s represented in his snazzy pants, the matching belt and of course the dress shoes. He made quite the bargain.

Speaking of his fashion, he likes thrifting.

Ever since he joined the gang, the other three always have small tissue packs with them at all times.

He likes weightlifting. Him and Boost hit the gym together, but he gets overwhelmed when Boost gets too into it and starts yelling at him to do more reps.

He likes the look of piercings, but when Wingo gave him his first piercing (a septum piercing) he vowed to never get one again because of the sheer pain.

He is like the dad of the group, making sure everyone is well (he especially got his eyes on DJ 24/7 because of his low weight).

these are my headcanons for now, will update the list when i remember some of them again :3

#pixar cars #cars #cars 2006 #cars fanart #gijinka #delinquent road hazards #boost #dj #wingo #snot rod #suki bon #cars headcanons #this took a while lol #its so chaotic but i love

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acapelladitty · 7 months ago

Text

a lesson learned

Summary - After a failed attempt to escape being owned by Roman Sionis, he brings in the infamous Scarecrow to help correct such behaviours. (2.1k words)

(tw: sexual slavery, non-con, sa, whipping, mentions of previous abuse, restraints, open for a sequel)

Fic Masterlist ☆ Link to AO3 ☆ Kofi

Trying to escape Roman had been a foolish dream at best and Violet’s panicked eyes took in the scene before her as she struggled against the hard wood of the ‘x’ shaped restraint she had been placed against and strapped into. Her head throbbed, a delayed pain of the earlier blow which Roman had delivered to her skull, and her vision was bleary as her gaze darted between the two men who observed her with sadistic glee.

"Stupid bitch needs a lesson in manners." Roman spoke, directing his words to the man who stood by his side - his impressive height looming over Romans’ own. "She needs to know never to fuck with me again and I thought you would be the perfect solution to help 'correct' her bad behaviour, Dr Crane."

"Of course, Mr. Sionis." In full costume minus his mask, Jonathan Crane cut a terrifying figure and Violet sobbed into her fabric gag as she listened to them speak. "I'm always happy to lend my professional assistance with difficult patients. This one is even prettier than the last. How would you like her?"

"Broken and obedient, but not totally fucked up like the last one. She had to be sold at a reduced price because of all that babbling that your chemical shit snapped her into."

Ignoring the criticism, Crane nodded. "Modifications?"

"Eh," Roman shrugged, blowing out a puff of smoke from his cigar, "nothing nasty to look at. Maybe just the usual stuff that will make it hard for her to see herself as anything but a fuck toy to be used and abused.”

"Simple enough, Mr. Sionis. And I trust you will be joining me to assist in my work?"

"Of course. Maroni is up to some shit these days so I've been needing to keep an eye on him. I could use the opportunity to blow off some steam by listening to this stupid bitch scream.”

"Perfect. Then I suppose I'll begin my initial examination now."

Having been forced to listen to their entire exchange, Violet’s body shook violently. The last month had been a living hell, her forced abduction as she travelled home from work being only the beginning of her torments – a fact which quickly became known to her as she awoke in some kind of holding pen which housed two other women. They had been the ones to tell her of her new reality, a reality of her being little more than a sex object to be trained and used by anyone her new owner saw fit.

It was information which had sent her into a spiral of despair, her body thrashing and screaming out as it pummelled the iron door which kept her from freedom. In fact, she had kicked up such a fuss that her new owner had personally come to pay her a visit and check out his latest merchandise.

Roman Sionis, alias Black Mask.

He had been terrifying, standing tall as his goons dragged her from her holding cell and took her to one of the training rooms – an experience which still made her shudder to this day as they each took turns in using the various tools and instruments which Roman has collected to discipline his toys. It was an encounter which broke something within Violet, their abuse of her body and use of her various holes leaving her a sobbing, aching mess who had then been unceremoniously flung back into the holding pen as the other woman glanced at her with open fear.

But still, despite it all, after weeks of being forced into the most degrading and painful sex acts as an amusement for Roman and his various friends, Violet had gathered the strength to attempt an escape and had barely managed to make it past the second security door before she found herself taking a harsh baton to the stomach. A blow which winded her in an instant and made her drop to her knees, unable to do anything but struggle to breathe – it was almost a relief when the dark boot of the guard collided with her head and knocked her clean out.

The bliss of unconsciousness didn’t last forever though and awaking tied to this cross – her entire body nude and on display for the two master criminals who stood before her – had been almost as terrible as everything else she had been forced to endure.

She knew who the Scarecrow was, everyone in Gotham did, and to have him bearing down on her for a ‘medical’ examination made her heart stutter in her chest as the gag in her mouth held back her desperate pleas.

His hands were gloved, the digits long and thin as they pinched and groped at her body – sizing her up like a fresh slab of meat, like cattle at a market. He paid particular attention to her tits and plucked at her nipples until they were aching and reddened as she trembled in place.

“Lovely tits, don’t you think?” Roman interrupted, palming his cock through his slacks as he pulled a fresh cigar from his inner pocket, quickly lighting it up as he watched Crane with a cruel expression.

“Quite the specimen,” Crane agreed and Violet’s body stiffened in place as his thin fingers dropped from her tits to thrust unceremoniously up her sex, the two fingers feeling rough and extremely uncomfortable given her lack of preparation. “Receptive and responsive too,” he continued as his fingers pumped within her cunt for a few moments before pulling out just as roughly.

Crane’s fingers, the same ones which had just been within her, gripped at Violet’s chin as he forced her to meet his gaze.

“Do you think we should allow her to choose?”

“Nah, fuck her. Use the cable,” Roman replied, blowing out a thick puff of smoke as Violet thrashed against her restraints at the words.

The cable was a thin piece of wire, folded over on itself to create a loop which stung like hell as it tore into the skin of its victim and Violet had only experiences it once, the day after she arrived, as Roman – in his own words – gave her a taste of her life to come.

Seeing the cable in Crane’s hand as he picked it up from the table which housed all of Roman’s toys, Violet sobbed as he approached – stuttered pleas for mercy falling onto deaf ears as Crane paused for a second to drink in her misery before beginning her punishment.

The swish of the folded cable registered for only a moment before pain exploded across her thighs and she cried out, the sting of the wire red hot against her exposed skin. With no time to recover, she screamed as the cable struck again and her ankles pulled against the unforgiving restraints.

Miserable, Violet’s own sobs almost choked her as she thrashed against the cross. Crane was meticulous in his work, painting everything from her thighs to her tits and stomach with his swings – the exertion making him pant as he shifted his body to achieve new angles and reach new skin. Fire flashed across her skin, every targeted area an inferno of agony and heat as the thin wire instantly welted her flesh. Lost in the unyielding sensation, at one point she swore she felt something wet trickly down her leg and she knew the skin there had broken under the assault.

Crane stopped eventually and Violet fell weakly against her restraints, her body limp and roaring with agony as she observed her welted flesh through teary eyes. Her body hadn’t been whipped in some time, enough for all the previous marks to have fully healed up, and the fresh skin bore the brunt of her punishment without mercy.

Loose against her restraints as her body wavered on the edge of consciousness, Violet didn’t have long to wait though, as Roman moved quickly.

His hands were firm as they ripped the restraints free of her wrists and ankles, his nails clawing into his skin as he pinned her skin in place to get the metal free. Now free, Violet dropped to the floor with a solid thud but any attempt to scramble away from their punishments was impossible as Roman immediately fell on her like a rabid dog.

Violet shuddered as he entered her, his cock immediately sinking deep into her cunt without any care for her comfort. It hurt, his rough fucking almost like he was trying to drive her though the floor as he took the opportunity to grip her hips so hard that she knew the skin there would be bruised. It was just another humiliation and the chill of the ground was welcomed against her heated face as she slammed her eyes shut and held as still as she could.

Her face pressed against the floor, Violet could only endure as Roman brutally fucked away at her stinging sex, his every thrust igniting fresh heat in the whip marks which littered her body as her skin was dragged across the cold flooring.

“You want some sloppy seconds, Dr?” Roman snarled as he plunged his cock without mercy. “Or you could fuck her ass if you want? She won’t mind.”

“As tempting as your offer is, I will decline at this moment.”

Thankful, Violet turned her eyes far enough to catch Crane’s face but any hope that he was a better man than the monster fucking her was snuffed out in an instant as she took in the tent of his groin and the amusement in his gaze as he watched her suffer.

With a stuttering groan, Roman came and Violet shuddered as she felt the heat of his release filling her while he scored his nails across her welted skin. Anything to cause her more discomfort as she whimpered and squealed under his punishing hands and cock. But he pulled free just as quickly as he had entered her and she groaned in discomfort as she took in the ache of her sex and the stinging heat of her whipped skin.

Violet lay out on the floor, unable to move and much too afraid to even attempt it and her eyes slammed shut as she heard the steady movement of feet and the zip of Roman’s fly as he tucked his stained cock away.

“Y’know, if she wasn’t such a tight fuck, I’d probably have sold her off to Valentin or some other freak for her disobedience. She’s one lucky cunt and I don’t even think she appreciates it.”

“Spare the rod, spoil the child, Mr Sionis.” Violet heard Crane agree. “I think you’re more that capable of correcting her behaviours and I am always delighted to offer my services.”

“Speaking of which, I know you’ve still got to get your cock wet so let’s get going.”

Two pairs of hands wrapped around her quivering body and Violet screamed in surprise as both men pulled her to her feet and slammed her against the cross which she had only just been released from. The wood was rough against her back and Violet only tried to struggle once against the hands, a movement which was immediately put to rest by Roman’s gloved hand as it cracked hard against her jaw – sending her head ricocheting to the side as she howled in pain.

Violet felt the cold metal of the shackles as they once again fully restrained her to the cross. Her sore pussy continued to leak Roman’s release and it spread messily across her thighs as she writhed in place against the wood. She had been punished and her skin bore the brunt of those marks, not to mention the aches which littered her face due to the various blows which Roman had previously delivered.

“Pl-please let me go?” She asked once more – knowing the words were meaningless to both men but being unable to help herself as Roman stepped back from her position. “Please? I won't run, won't be bad again.”

At her request, Roman laughed and the cruelty in his voice made her heart drop into her stomach.

“Let you go? Oh, you are one stupid whore. More stupid than I thought,” Roman chastised as he drummed his gloved fingers along the wooden table which housed his various tools of torment and toys. “You think a little light whipping and a good fuck are all the punishment you’re getting? Dumb cunt.”

Throwing up a casual thumb which indicated off to the side, Roman smirked viciously and Violet followed his direction to find Crane standing with an equally sadistic expression. Eyeing up the small pot of thin needles which Crane held within his hands with utter horror, Violet screamed and screamed until her lungs started to burn as she understood that far from being over, her time with both men had barely begun.

#roman sionis #jonathan crane #black mask #scarecrow #dc comics #black mask x reader #scarecrow x reader #gotham rogues #batman villains #dr jonathan crane

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urbancripple · 2 years ago

Text

To able‐bodied people, wheelchair users have a certain mystique. They’re constantly asking us about how our bodies do or don’t work, whether we can have sex, why we haven't just killed ourselves yet. But despite their intrusive questioning, there is one area that ableds seem to be absolutely certain about: the existence of ultra‐convenient readily‐available accessibility modifications and mobility aids.

As wheelchair users, how many times have we been told to “put some chains on that thing!” As we struggle through the snow? How often is it suggested that we get a hand‐bike so that we can cycle to work like our coworkers? If I had a nickel for every time someone suggested I attach some tried‐and‐true motor to my chair, I’d have enough money to pay someone to invent it.

People are constantly sending me links to articles and videos to supposed life‐changing mobility aids that can climb stairs or move over rough terrain. They tell me that things can’t be that difficult with a constant stream of new, convenient doo‐dads being put out in the world. Hell, when discussing how difficult it is to find a single‐story home in Seattle (existing or custom), the suggestion was made that I simply build a multi‐story home but also put an elevator in.

Here’s the thing though: has anyone, wheelchair‐user or otherwise, actually seen any of these so‐called solutions in person? The stair‐climbing wheelchair? The magical snow tires? The super fast motor? I haven’t. As for the elevators and hand bikes, I can count the number I’ve seen on one hand and I’d need way more fingers and toes to show you the price tag.

Despite their near non‐existence or insurmountable financial cost, people keep telling me I just need to “get me one of those…” and continue to cast my existence and the problems that come with it in a mythical light.

An elevator for your house starts at around six‐thousand dollars. If you want one that doesn’t look like the rickety stair‐lift at your local Eagle’s Club, it’ll cost you upwards of sixty‐thousand.

The price of an average, entry‐level bike is four‐hundred bucks. If you want an accessible hand bike, you’re going to start around a grand.

Custom wheelchair tires can vary anywhere from two to five thousand, often times costing more than the chair they’re attached to.

That stair climbing chair? Eleven grand. Want something that’s a little more “every day”? That’ll cost you seventeen grand. Just need a motor for your day chair? Six grand and it weighs fifteen pounds.

Now, some folks might be thinking “sure, it’s expensive now, but the price will come down as technology improves and more people buy these devices”. But with an employment rate of roughly 7 percent (before COVID) and rules governing the amount of money disabled people on SSI can have in the bank (no more than two-thousand dollars), most wheelchair users can’t even save up to buy one of these devices. And no, insurance won’t cover any it.

A lack of accessibility is not something we can just “tech” our way out of and disabled people should not expected to purchase access to a world that everyone else gets for free. Talking about mobility aids you’ve never used or seen when someone is trying to explain to you the barriers they face in their day to day life due to a lack of accessibility isn’t helpful, it’s dismissive. Quit doing it.

#disability

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fannedandflawless · 2 months ago

Text

Arthur Weasley’s Salary: Magical Living on a Non-Magical Budget

Let’s talk about the quiet financial absurdity hiding in plain sight in the Harry Potter universe: Arthur Weasley’s salary. Because when you actually run the numbers? It makes Severus Snape’s meagre income look like luxury. In a previous post, I explored Severus Snape’s likely annual income using real-world UK academic pay scales from the 1990s—if you’ve read Part III – The Rise of Severus Snape: Finances & Survival, you’ll know his life was far from luxurious, but it was stable, controlled, and financially self-sufficient.

Because when you actually map out how Arthur managed to raise seven children, maintain a multi-storey home, own a car, and send everyone to Hogwarts—all on a single income?

It stops being whimsical. It starts sounding impossible.

—

Arthur Weasley’s Canon Income – The 700 Galleon Problem

According to J.K. Rowling via early Pottermore content, Arthur Weasley earned ~700 Galleons per year working at the Ministry in the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office.

Rowling also suggested 1 Galleon ≈ £5. That means:

700 Galleons/year = £3,500/year

Even in wizarding terms, this is shockingly low. It explains why the Weasleys are constantly portrayed as financially struggling—but it raises even more questions when you actually compare this to what’s considered "meagre" elsewhere in the same world. (See The Great Galleon Plot Hole for the full breakdown of how absurd wand pricing is next to broomsticks and household budgets.) It’s this level of visible frugality that explains why, even at age eleven, Draco Malfoy sneered at the Weasleys' lifestyle—not merely out of cruelty, but because their second-hand robes, patched belongings, and obvious lack of status clashed so sharply with everything he’d been taught to admire.

—

🧪 Severus Snape’s Salary – The "Meagre" Benchmark

In The Half-Blood Prince, Slughorn refers to the Potions Master salary as "meagre."

However, based on real-world equivalents (1990s UK academic salaries at private boarding schools or junior lecturers), a realistic conversion puts Severus' Hogwarts salary at roughly:

£25,000–£35,000/year = 5,000–7,000 Galleons/year

Which means…

Arthur Weasley earned one-tenth of what Snape did.

So if Severus’ salary was “meagre,” then Arthur’s was barely magical subsistence.

—

How Did Arthur Weasley Survive on 700 Galleons?

Let’s break it down based on previously established lore:

🏡 The Burrow – But They Own Property

The Burrow is most likely inherited or acquired magically (via family or local wizarding means).

They pay no rent or mortgage, which massively reduces cost of living.

Magic allows them to extend or repair it without outside labour.

🚗 The Flying Car

Arthur likely salvaged or bought the car second-hand (Muggle world).

He enchanted it himself, which means no magical modification costs.

👨‍👩‍👧‍👦 Raising 7 Children

Clothing, books, and wands are reused or second-hand.

Molly grows/cooks meals at home using magic.

Children attend Hogwarts, where tuition, housing, and food are included.

Brooms and pets (like Scabbers) are often hand-me-downs.

Their survival hinges on:

Inherited property

Magical self-sufficiency

Extreme frugality

Hand-me-down culture

And probably a bit of unspoken help from Dumbledore, McGonagall, or the community.

—

What Would Arthur Need to Earn to Survive Like He Does in the Books?

Let’s say:

Groceries for 9: ~700 Galleons

School supplies (4 children at once): ~240 Galleons

Clothes & basics: ~100 Galleons

Utilities, owl care, car upkeep: ~100 Galleons

Emergency/miscellaneous: ~60 Galleons

Total: ~1,200 Galleons/year (ultra-frugal estimate)

Arthur earns 700 Galleons… so they’re likely (as explored more fully in Spinner’s End Wasn’t Poverty—It Was Privacy, which breaks down how Severus could afford his life with strict control):

Living in deficit

Receiving help

Magicking needs into being

Or all three.

—

The Bigger Picture – A Broken Economic Logic

A wand costs 7 Galleons. A broom costs 1,000 Galleons. Arthur Weasley earns 700 Galleons a year.

Somewhere, the economic logic is being levitated off a cliff.

—

This entire post builds on the ideas explored in:

📎 The Great Galleon Plot Hole – How the wand-to-broom pricing gap makes no sense 📎 Part III – The Rise of Severus Snape: Finances & Survival – How Severus navigated post-Hogwarts life with control, not comfort 📎 Spinner’s End Wasn’t Poverty—It Was Privacy – A full economic breakdown of Snape’s home, Hogwarts salary, and lifestyle control

Let the Ministry explain that.

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everydayyoulovemeless · 2 years ago

Note

The reaction of the companions of fo3 to the fact that they are in love with Lone Wanderer? Please 🙏

Fo3 Companions Realizing They're In Love With Lone

➼ Word Count » 0.7k ➼ Warnings » Age Gap ➼ Genre » Romantic, Pinning

Charon opts to ignore it. He's got a job to do and is bound by contract. His feelings don't matter for this transaction to work and now is no different. Despite it all, he can't help but notice how much more inclined he is to be of service to you — always offering to take the night shift, or more aware of his surroundings than he normally would be. He's never been so fond of the person holding his contract and it makes him feel so conflicted. What would you say? Would you sell him off if you found out? He's a ghoul, for Godsake, what 19-year-old teen would want him?

Clover isn't sure how to act, so she'll act in the only way she's known how — sexually. She'll run her hands across your shoulders and whisper lowly into your ears just so she can get the message across to you, but in all honesty, she truly isn't sure what it is she feels for you. It'll take he a minute to sit down and think everything over before she comes to the realization that she's in love with you. Once she figures it out, she'll tone her erotic actions toward you down, opting to instead bring you flowers, or clean up around your home. She tries to mimic you in how you treat her, hoping that it'll eventually make you feel the same for her as she does you.

Star Paladin Cross feels a bit conflicted about her feelings for you as you're the kid she helped escort to the vault. She's well aware of her body modifications and the sheer age gap between you two and would, therefore, try to extinguish these feelings at all costs. You two weren't meant to be together, and she needs to get a grip before this turns into anything more than you and her being comrades.

Jericho doesn't care if you catch on to how he feels or not, he'll just pin you up against a wall and try to get you flustered. This has always been his way of showing someone that he's interested in them and he'll stick with this method until you say something about it. He's constantly in your face — whether he be throwing his arms around you or squishing your cheeks between his fingers. He loves the way you swat at him and the cute way you roll your eyes at his antics, however, he doesn't realize that he's in love until you get injured badly. Then reality will hit him and he'll (slightly) drop his douchy act and make an actual attempt at wooing you.

Butch tries to play it off and act the same as he always has, but every time he's around you he can't help but fall into a blushing, flustered mess. He's a teenager who's never actually been in love before, and he hates every second of it. Who do you think you are anyway? Walking around as if you're blissfully unaware of his feelings toward you. He gets meaner towards you — teasing you more often and tripping you whenever the chance arises — but it's only to help try and mask his intentions. He'll only put the pieces together when someone else tries to flirt with you, then he'll pull his pocket knife out, scare the guy off, and go right back to how he was before — a bumbling mess.

Fawkes knew he loved you the second you broke him out of that vault, however, he's well aware of how he looks and would never dream of putting you into a situation like that, so he keeps it to himself. He'll be polite to you — always opening doors and offering to hold onto the heavier items and weapons you may possess, but that's the extent of it. He's older than you and would hate to hold you down in any way, so he'll love you from afar and risk his life for you any chance he gets. It's the only way he can think of to pay you back for being so kind toward him.

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melancholysway · 7 months ago

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Serendipity (2007!Raphael x Fem!Reader) 10

Chapter X: Home

I can cry yall I'm so sad this is ending LMAO

--------

"Jesus Mikey, in my ear?!" The red-banded turtle scolds his little brother for yelling (once again) about the road trip to Casey's grandmother's farmhouse.

This was a sacred trip, filled with family bonding and alone time together. It was a trip of serenity and calmness that was unmatched by living in the city. Upstate New York was indeed an experience to remember. Northampton was a quiet place, with the population barely reaching 2,500 citizens. So, yeah, the turtles (and Splinter) loved going up there. There were no sewers, Purple Dragons, or Foot Ninjas. They were able to…exist.

You were lucky enough to be tagging along; you were on spring break, and you needed this well-deserved week-long vacation. You weren't sure what the guys usually did when they went upstate, but it had to be relaxing.

"What are we doing first, dud- ow!" Mikey asks from the backseat, earning another glare and smack from his older brother.

"I mean," Leo begins, "Get settled in, the usual. Relax, swim-" "Train." Master Splinter interrupts, earning a groan from Mikey.

"Sensei! It's vacation!"

"Very true; however, the Foot will not take what you kids call a 'vacay,' correct?"

Okay, so train. How…exciting. How fun to train…on your whole free week of no ninja-ing.

"Woo-hoo." Donnie cheers flatly.

"Yay." Raph follows suit.

Leo can hear his younger brothers' fake enthusiasm, and he can't help but chuckle.

"Can't wait ta train on my week off, Masta Splintah," Raph says, earning a snicker from Donnie.

The drive was a good one. It was your first time in the ShellRaiser, and Donnie spent half an hour giving you a tour and showing you all the remarkable modifications and weapons he attached to it. You were driving around in a military-grade vehicle.

Let's move on to more exciting matters, like your relationship.

It was great. What more could you ask for? You got the turtle (who you didn't know was a turtle in the beginning) that you wanted.

So it's no surprise that Raph asked if you wanted to come on this trip. Besides, he knew you needed a break. It also wasn't a surprise that his brothers, especially Mikey, were excited for you to join.

---

"Dudette! We can finally hang out outdoors in the daylight! I can, like…get a tan!" Mikey almost jumped out of his shell when he heard the news. After a quick thought, you were in. You'd already planned on Jade checking up on Stella that week and leaving her a few 20s for the deed (though she strongly disagreed with you paying her, seeing Stella was enough payment.)

So it was settled: You would be going for an entire week. Unsure of what to pack, you jumped off what April told you she usually brings on the trip: the basics: clothes, toiletries, a first-aid kit just in case, and herself (obviously).

Mikey was going to be attempting to get a tan. So, you had something to look forward to seeing the result of.

---

Due to the long trip, you utilized Raph's shoulder and slept for the last part of the ride. It wasn't until you felt a flick on your nose that awoke you that you had made it to the farmhouse.

"Ya still snore like a grown-ass man." Raph jokes, only for you to protest that you don't snore again. But you may never know for sure.

Looking through the window on your right, you can see the beautiful ivory house with at least eight rooms and three floors. It seems incredibly well-kept, with no visible signs of wear or tear. Casey's relatives enjoyed this house and spent much time ensuring it was in excellent condition.

You can see the excitement in all of the turtle's eyes and Master Splinter's. This must be their most anticipated event during the springtime. As you get closer to the driveway of the house, you can see a large lake in the distance, along with a dense forest surrounding the property that seems miles deep. Don't tell Casey to freak him out, but this would be a great Fallout location.

You could go into great detail about everything you guys did together, but that would take forever.

To make the long story short, it was indeed an unforgettable time. While you already felt close with the rest of the Hamato brothers, you were one big family by the end.

Now, Master Splinter doesn't use the word "family" lightly. Family has such a deep meaning for him. It took April and Casey a while to be considered family. However, they were so in debt to the turtles from all the times they saved them that they owed them nothing but trust and loyalty. When Splinter recognized this, he accepted them into their home and family.

From watching you interact with his sons and having a caring attitude toward them, Splinter accepted you into the family. You were a Hamato. Err, figuratively, not literally. His number one reason is the way Raphael was when he came around you. He watched how his most temperamental son became caring and loving toward someone in a romantic way. He had told you over a cup of tea that you gave him hope for Raph's brothers. That in this unbelievable world, there was a chance there would be someone for each of them.

Speaking of Raph, a week-long getaway was just what the two of you needed to get closer to each other. When you all began the road trip, Raphael went to work, mentally planning things for you both to do outside (ooh, romantic~).

When you weren't with the entire crew, you were with your boyfriend- just how you and Raph liked it. Don't get me wrong- Raphael loves his alone time, but this trip allowed him to do things he usually wouldn't get to do with you in the city. The biggest one is going outside in the daylight.

And, of course, there were plenty of times you two were intimate. And boy were those moments especially unforgettable. Raphael had this unspoken sexiness to himself and the way he presented that caused your brain to produce the nastiest thoughts- and when you let him know what you were thinking, he would give you that lustful smirk he always does before picking you up to set you down on the bed- effortlessly managing to close the door and lock it behind you two in the process.

The whole trip had been a wonderful experience. If you were being honest, you didn't want it to end. But sadly, it had to. The city needed protecting, and you had to go back to work. It was no surprise that saying goodbye to the home you'd become accustomed to for the past 7 days was hard; it was a haven. Before leaving, you silently waved at each piece of rustic vintage furniture.

Moving on to the present time, you couldn't be happier now. After the week at the farmhouse, you were ready for the best part about Spring: The fiery Aries zodiac season. It is also known as Raph's birthday season.

Since so much time has passed since Leo's return, and since Raphael put away his Nightwatcher persona, things have returned to normal.

The question was: would it last?

You wouldn't be in college forever, and your parents wouldn't be renting that apartment you lived in forever. College was quickly coming to a close, and you would be finishing up your undergraduate degree soon.

You also had it made. You had your own space and cat—you get the idea. You felt ready to spread your wings and leave the nest your parents crafted for you, unbothered by what may come soon. The present was just so beautiful and full of wonderful experiences that the future's problems were minuscule. You'll find a career and stable income with time.

As melancholy as it may sound, you couldn't return to your life before Raphael. You couldn't imagine what it would be like after graduation; would you stay or return home? Your parents would only pay your rent for a while, mainly because you would finish your undergraduate degree.

After much time and consideration, you and your parents came to one conclusion. One that you all could agree on.

Once this agreement was settled, you thought of ways to tell the turtle in red. You knew that Raphael also thought about you leaving. He had this small doubt in the back of his head that you would go back home, never to be seen again. However, you did not intend to leave him or the relationship you two had built.

As Raphael's birthday came closer and closer, you got all your ducks in a row. Everything was finalized, and there wasn't any turning back. But you didn't want to turn back. You weren't going to turn back. Ever.

By the time his birthday rolled around, you were ready.

"Hellooo~!" You sing as you enter the turtle's home. You're first greeted by Mikey, who is cooking in the kitchen. Mikey turns to face you with a "kiss the chef" apron on. You can't help but giggle.

"Hey, dudette!" Mikey greets. "Whatcha got there?"

"It's Raph's surprise birthday cake." You grin. You make yourself comfortable, lowering the white box to take off your black vest. Then, placing it along with your purse on the coat hanger adjacent to the kitchen, you turn the cake around to show Mikey.

"Red velvet?" he muses. You nod. You had the baker write "Happy Birthday Raph" in red icing, and the rim and top of the cake were also decorated with red icing. You knew Raph would enjoy a simple cake.

"With cream cheese frosting?" A new voice enters the conversation. You turn around, nervous to see if your surprise has been ruined. Luckily, it was only Leonardo.

"Don't worry, Raph's not here right now. He's with Casey at their apartment; he should return in an hour." Leo reassures you, noticing the anxious look on your face. Feeling relieved, you put your guard down for now.

"Yes, and shell yes! I took a trip down to Times Square at this popular bakery to get it. I told them not to make it too sweet. It's the best bakery around!" You say. Mikey makes some room in the fridge for you to place it inside.

"He's gonna love it," Leo smiles, acknowledging your efforts. The trip to Times Square is not for the weak. Especially during the spring. "Might not say it, but it'll show when he cuts himself a piece."

"Dudette, I saved a lot from my Cowabunga Carl business! I got him a new punching bag!" Raphael always complained that the punching bag in the dojo was getting weaker, and you would always tell him to go easy on the poor thing.

"Eh, they're meant ta be punched." He would say, "But still, I mean, who the shell would make something so…" and he would complain about the fabric being cheap, etcetera, etcetera. You get the idea.

"What about you, Leo?" You ask. The brown-eyed turtle grins before pulling out an elongated brown case. Opening it up, you see six silver shurikens propped up by a felt. Engraved on top of the inside was the phrase, "Para mi familia." It looked carved by hand.

"I was able to get these during my time in South America. I brought back a ton of trinkets and items, but I made sure to keep these safe. I wanted to give them to Raph, and now is a great time to do that, don't you think?" Leo says. He also says he added the wording on the inside; rather than being in Japanese, he thought it would be nice to write it in Spanish- a language he had always been interested in learning.

"Leo…these are beautiful." You comment. Leo places the box on the dining table while you take a walk to see what the new punching bag looks like.

Peering into the dojo, you see Splinter meditating. Across the dojo are the weights and an obvious new addition to the equipment. It's a large black bag hanging from a holster. It appears to be nailed to the floorboard. It's clearly bigger than the last bag Raphael was using, and this one also had a big red bow wrapped around it.

Not wanting to interrupt Splinter's meditation, you quietly step away and walk toward Donnie's lab (or nerd cave, as Raph has named it).

"Knock knock." You say to the purple-banded turtle hunched over something. From what you can see, it appears to be Raph's bike. Donnie stands up and stretches, "Hey, Y/n! Wanna see what I got Raph?" You nod, and Donnie steps away from his current project.

"Ta-da!" He reveals Raph's baby, his prized possession: Roxanne.

"Aw, Donnie…" You say as you walk toward Roxy. Only this time, Roxanne had some new upgrades. Her ruby red paint was beautiful and scratch-free, the coating adding shine. Her tires looked brand spanking new, as well. Her tires had some more grooves, probably for when Raphael goes a little crazy on the streets with Casey or you.

"I hope he likes it. I think this bike needed some TLC." Donnie says.

"He'll love it," you say. You loved how all the brothers went out of their way for Raphael's birthday. Seeing how they all chipped in to get him gifts was adorable.

It might put yours to shame.

"What'd you get him, Y/n?" Donny asks, grabbing a towel from the table to wipe his sweat.

“Compared to you guys…it’s not much…” You say. Donnie sighs, and he puts a supportive hand on your shoulder. He looks down at you and smiles.

"Comparison is the thief of joy, you know."

"Thank you, human fortune cookie." You joke.

"Donatello is right, Y/n." A new voice emerges from the doorway. Turning around, you see Master Splinter. His short figure was wrapped up in his red robe.

"I'm sure my son will appreciate anything you get him. Although he might not say it, he will show it." Splinter's words help you feel better about your gift. As you bow, you gather Mikey and Leo to share the gift you got for the red terrapin.

"Are you kidding?" Leonardo blurts out, and your facial expression turns into shock. Is it that bad?

"He's going to wanna marry you after you give it to him." The rest of the family shares a laugh together, and you now have a newfound confidence in your surprise gift for Raphael.

With the validation from Raph's brothers and sensei, you couldn't wait to give it to him.

"Are you one? Are you two? Are you-" "That ain't part of the song, Mikey." Raph grumbles as he cuts himself a hefty piece of red velvet cake, his favorite. He didn't have a sweet tooth, and after taking his first bite, he thought it was perfect. It wasn't too sweet, just the way he liked it.

He deserved this after enduring "Happy Birthday" surrounded by family, friends, and his girlfriend. He felt so awkward when people sang Happy Birthday to him that he kind of just sat there waiting to blow out the candles. He wasn't about to sit here and wait until Mikey counted from one all the way to his new age.

You watched as the gift-giving commenced.

Master Splinter had given Raphael a new pair of practice sai for when he sparred. He needed another pair since his old one had a few hundred miles on it, and the wear and tear was obvious.

April got Raph a brand-new hammock for his room. She remembered him saying he wondered if they had bigger ones that held two people because he wanted to share them with you.

Casey gave Raph a brown bag. Jones said it was some sparkling cider. However, the way his hand gripped the head of the bottle and handed it to Raph with a wink while April rolled her eyes, you knew it had to be Casamigos or Hennesy—both being Raph's favorites.

Master Splinter decides to let it slide and save the "drink responsibly" lecture for after the celebration.

Mikey went next and told Raph to look in the dojo. He raised an eyebrow at him suspiciously. After a trip to the dojo, he returns and gives his baby brother a noogie.

"...appreciate it, lil bro."

Next went Leo, and once Raph opened the box, his amber eyes looked admirably at the shurikens inside.

"What's it say?" He asks as he inspects the engraving inside of the box.

"For my family."

"Ey, thanks, Fearless." Leonardo and Raphael give each other a "bro hug," as they would call it. Master Splinter smiles; seeing his two eldest sons get along and embrace each other warms his heart.

Next was Donnie, and everyone went to the garage. Raph's bike was covered with a cloth, waiting to be unveiled.

"I thought your bike needed some shine." The tech wiz smirks. Donatello quickly takes the cloth off to reveal Roxy. She's as beautiful as you remember her being an hour ago.

Raphael's eyes went wide as he walked around his motorcycle to examine its new appearance.

"Don, ya amaze me- ya know dat?" Raphael's hands grip the handlebars, and then he uses his fingers to feel the ridges on the new tires. He couldn't wait to feel how she drove.

"I know," the turtle in purple says matter of factly.

You walk toward Raph and grip his bicep, "I didn't forget about yours; it's at my place," You wink and kiss his cheek only to hear an "aww!" from Mikey, followed by a "Can it!" from Raph.

Once you all made your way back to the living room, you began putting everything away. April and Casey said their goodbyes and headed back to the surface to return home, and you were preparing to leave with Raphael.

"I won't keep him long, guys. I'll see you all soon, okay?" You give warm hugs to Raphael's brothers and sensei (you loved how his fuzz tickled your skin.)

"Good luck and congratulations, Miss Y/n." Raphael's eyes narrow at his father's comment, wondering what you had up your sleeve. Splinter retreats to the kitchen to fix himself and Leo some tea, and Donnie goes into his lab, taking Mikey with him since he needs a lab assistant.

"Ya ain't gonna kidnap me are ya?" Raphael jokes, opening up your bedroom window. He steps in first, then takes your hand and helps you inside.

"If I could, I would." You muse, "I'd put you in my pocket and take you out whenever I needed a bear hug, Big Red."

"I ain't fittin' in that tiny pocket o' yers, princess." Raph smirks.

You roll your eyes playfully as you take Raph's left hand and lead him into your living room. His mind runs through all his ideas of what else you've gotten him. If he was being honest, the cake was enough- you got it made just the way he likes it- which, by the way- he wasn't sure how you did that until he thought back to a year or two back when Mikey was bringing cake slices home from birthday parties.

Mikey would always try to get a piece of red velvet cake, and Raphael would always scrape away the extra frosting because it was just too sweet for him. You must've asked his brothers about his semi-sweet tooth for cake. That alone was a thoughtful gift in itself.

As you walk toward the couch, you two are greeted by Stella as she brushes against your legs as a greeting. She mews in excitement that you're back and the familiar mutant is too. She couldn't wait to perch on his shoulder and get her chin scratched.

Sitting on the couch together, Raphael notices the red folder on the coffee table in front of him. He snakes his arm around your shoulders to pull you close. Resting your head on his shoulder, you also look at the folder you placed there strategically to catch the turtle's attention.

For Raphael

"Go ahead, open it, " you say as you notice Raph's attention on the file, his mind wandering to what it could be.

He grabs the red folder, opening it with one hand while the other stays wrapped around your frame. Soon, it reveals two pockets: the left one empty and the right one containing a single sheet of paper that appears to be some sort of contract.

After taking the paper, Raphael skims it, rereading the phrase in bold at the top of the page:

RESIDENTIAL LEASE AGREEMENT

He begins to reread it, only this time word for word. Are his eyes deceiving him? Is he really reading what he thinks he's reading?

Were you…

Were you really…

"I saved enough to put the apartment in my name—my parents agreed to be cosigners."

"So that means…" Raphael reads over the lease again, only this time, he sees your name signed at the bottom.

"It means I'm staying here. For good. Remember when I said you can't get rid of me easil- mmph!" Raphael shuts you up with a kiss. You drop what's in your hand and feel as time seems to stretch during this moment.

Raphael deepens the kiss by leaning into you, his calloused hand sliding down from your hair to the back of your neck. Your free hands cup his cheeks, tilting your head and commencing a French kiss. Your tongues dance to the familiar song they always did when you shared a romantic and steamy kiss.

You snap back to reality when you realize you have one last surprise for the red-clad turtle.

"Hey," you pull away, gasping softly for air. I still have one more thing to give you."

"One more? Babe, ya didn't have to." Kissing your forehead as his hands rest on your hips, you can't help but look up at your boyfriend with a grin, your laugh lines around your lips growing heavier.

"Ya stayin fa good, that's all I need" You lightly push Raphael's plastron away from you to grab the other part of his gift. He watches your figure move around your apartment living room, going toward the kitchen table and returning with your hands behind you.

You give your lover a mischievous look, and as you return to him, you reveal what you're hiding

behind your back.

"Open it," You say, placing a small black box in his large hands. Raphael opens it slowly, unsure what tricks you might have up your sleeve.

Well, he wasn't sure if this was a trick at all. As his golden eyes scan the shiny object inside, he isn't sure what it's for, although he has a few ideas.

Not wanting to get ahead of himself, he asks for some clarification. "What's it for?" He asks, cocking a brow at you.

"Let me show you," taking the small gift from his hands, you stand up from the couch and walk toward your front door to exit. Locking the door behind you, you wait a few seconds before unlocking the door and re-entering your apartment. When you come back in, Raphael is still where you left him. Only now, he has a smirk on his face.

"Now I know what you're about to say,"

Before he can object, you telepathically read his mind.

"And don't worry, it works for the window, too." You return the gift to the amber-eyed turtle, who quickly catches it.

He decides to inspect it again before putting it back in its spot. He brushes his green thumb over the metal, feeling all its rough edges. His calloused hands take turns fiddling with it, almost as if Raph is trying to see if he is dreaming.

"You have a home on the surface, too." Raphael's flat lips curl into a small smile. However, you were shocked by what you were seeing.

Raphael was grinning.

Smiling right back at him with your toothy grin, he stands up, embracing you in a tight hug. You both stand like this in silence. Neither of you said a word for what felt like forever. It isn't until Raphael breaks this silence between the two of you. He brushes a finger across your cheek and then puts it under your chin. Soon enough, your eyes met- and his amber ones seemed to twinkle as he spoke.

"Thanks… fa this. Fa everythin’."

The hoarseness in his voice indicated that he was almost at a loss for words. Raphael was new to this. He wasn't used to someone other than his brothers or Splinter doing nice things for him. He wasn't used to anyone caring as much as you did.

Unlike Leo when he went to South America for training, you took much time and thought into how you could continue to include him in your day-to-day life. And unlike Sabrina, you weren't going to just up and leave. You wouldn't go away and lose all contact with him, either. You wanted to include him as much as possible.

You were so much different than Sabrina. In fact, you were nothing like her. Raphael knew that.

This small act of selflessness not only reflected how much you cared about him but also how much you wanted to be with him. He knew that you didn't care about his appearance, where he lived, or who—or what—he was living with. You loved and embraced all the baggage he came with.

Raphael isn't good with saying "thank you" or verbally expressing his gratitude, and this was one of the rare times he did so.

Words didn't need to describe the way Raphael felt about you. He had no issue with showing it.

It might've been just a key, but this meant more to him than you could imagine. It meant you were here to stay. You weren't going anywhere, and that thought caused Raphael's stomach to churn with significant anxiousness for what was to come in the future. Not in a million years did he expect to be where he is right now. So as he places his lips on yours to share yet another romantic kiss, he can’t help but smile into it. His kisses were always good, but this one was different. This one had a lot of emotions behind it. He deepens the kiss, picking you up and letting you wrap your legs around his waist. As you giggle into the kiss, he leans into it some more, exerting all of the passion and love he has for you.

While Raphael had a place to call home in the sewers, he now had someone he could call home as well.

For the first time in all his years of living, he loved being a turtle.

--------------------------FIN-------------------------------------------

PREVIOUS CHAPTER: HERE

CHAPTER LIST: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 9.5 10 (current) // Taglist: @bee-1n-space @ducky-died-inside @xnorthstar3x @miss-andromeda Masterlist D I S C O R D

Listen to the Serendipity playlist linked below!

#tmnt #teenage mutant ninja turtles #raphael #donatello #leonardo #bayverse tmnt #tmnt 2007 #tmnt x reader #tmnt hc #tmnt raph x reader #raphael tmnt #melancholysway

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mochademic · 1 year ago

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100 Days of Productivity [Day: 89] || 100 Jours de Productivité [Jour: 89]

expect the unexpected; sometimes, it's going to be just what you needed.

this weekend I said welcome home to this little ragamuffin; a surprise [& early anniversary gift] from my partner. he's been keeping me on my toes, but life's been a little less lonely these days. my 3 month review at this new company went over well, & also came with a crazy promotion. hard work really does pay off, & it's nice to be working somewhere where my work does not go unnoticed.

the reason why I say this promotion is crazy, is because it's completely unrelated to my degree. I had been given various projects over the last few months – predominantly to do with bookkeeping & finances – that have resulted in me being selected to be the new company accountant. this work is not unfamiliar with me since it's something I do for my own small business, but to be doing this on a corporate level is humbling. it reminds me of a conversation I once had with my department head right before graduation. they were the person who I went to with many of my tearful vents and frustrations, & during this particular conversation they told me "do what you need to, but do more of what you're good at. that's how you bring the right things to your table." I held on to that for years. right now, I wish I could tell them thank you.

academic work:

-catch up on all unit reviews -re-write notes/organize

freelance work:

-catch up on all projects -continue signing up for markets -edit digital work -prepare shop listings

office work:

-answer all emails -complete payroll for tomorrow -review funding changes from last meeting -look at problems after system update

currently listening // Attention by Wyatt

Attendez-vous à l'inattendu ; parfois, c'est exactement ce dont vous aviez besoin.

ce week-end, j'ai souhaité la bienvenue à ce petit ragoût, une surprise [et un cadeau d'anniversaire anticipé] de mon partenaire. il me tient en haleine, mais la vie est un peu moins solitaire ces jours-ci. mon évaluation de trois mois dans cette nouvelle entreprise s'est bien passée et s'est accompagnée d'une promotion folle. le travail acharné paie vraiment, et c'est agréable de travailler dans un endroit où mon travail ne passe pas inaperçu.

La raison pour laquelle je dis que cette promotion est folle, c'est qu'elle n'a aucun rapport avec mon diplôme. Au cours des derniers mois, on m'a confié divers projets - principalement liés à la comptabilité et aux finances - qui m'ont valu d'être choisie pour être la nouvelle comptable de l'entreprise. Ce travail ne m'est pas inconnu, puisque je le fais pour ma propre petite entreprise, mais le faire au niveau de l'entreprise me rend humble. Cela me rappelle une conversation que j'ai eue un jour avec mon chef de service juste avant d'obtenir mon diplôme. c'est à lui que je m'adressais pour lui faire part de mes larmes et de mes frustrations, et au cours de cette conversation, il m'a dit : « Fais ce que tu dois faire, mais fais davantage ce pour quoi tu es douée. c'est ainsi que tu apporteras les bonnes choses à ta table ». J'ai gardé cela pendant des années. En ce moment, j'aimerais pouvoir leur dire merci.

travail académique :

-rattraper tous les examens de l'unité -réécrire les notes/organiser

travail en free-lance :

-rattraper tous les projets -continuer à s'inscrire sur les marchés -éditer le travail numérique -préparer les listes de boutiques

travail de bureau :

-répondre à tous les courriels -compléter la liste des salaires pour demain -Examiner les modifications apportées au financement depuis la dernière réunion -Examiner les problèmes après la mise à jour du système

chanson // Attention par WYATT

#100 days of productivity #day 89 #100dop #100 jours de productivité #jour 89 #100jdp #studyblr #study blog #studyspo #study motivation #study aesthetic #bookish #gradblr #langblr #language learning

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brabblesban · 1 year ago

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Ch 11: I will both lay me down in peace, and sleep: for thou only makest me dwell in safety.

Astarion has ascended, and she has stayed with him. Life in the Crimson Palace isn’t as idyllic as it seems. Is there a chance for their relationship to go back to how it was? Or is it too late for the Ascendant and his consort?

This series is about Ban, my Tav, and the Vampire Ascendant. Will be angst and smut, with sprinkles of fluff.

This fic is a softer take on Ascendant!Astarion and of the changes he undergoes after the rite. Can Ban handle the change, and if a chance came, would she choose to run? And can the Ascendant win her back in time? Inspired by the concept of vampire wives and that IGN interview with Larian that discussed the ascension.

Professionally edited by @editing-by-night

Astarion and Ban finally strike that balance in their relationship. But however long will this newfound happiness last?

Read on AO3.

Masterlist.

Astarion looked over at her at dinner, a smile pasted on his face in a feeble attempt to hide his inner turmoil. These past two tendays, Ban had taken to coming over during the day then leaving for the night. It was an extraordinary thing; he could feel her slowly warming up to him again. Their days had been spent with the same scheming they’d always done, with some modifications to their approach. The Ascendant had been making attempts to increase her public involvement, including her in the negotiations, making sure that she was heard and that the patriars and businessmen who dealt with them knew to pay her respect - if not quite to the same degree they afforded him.

In between these meetings had been passionate trysts, which had also improved; gone was the coldness that had permeated their bedroom for so long. She was there, with him in mind as well as body, and Astarion had almost forgotten how that felt, save for in the depths of his dreams and memories. Their first few times in the wilds had been contaminated by his own less-than-altruistic intentions… and then there’d been those desperate, painful nights after the rite and after the Absolute’s defeat. The only times that had felt anywhere close to these two tendays were those evenings in between, beneath the cloak of the Shadow-Cursed lands, when their relationship had held so much promise.

As a result Astarion found a spring in his step; allowing himself to enjoy moments as they came. He felt less and less need to keep his walls up, his desire to cement his progress at winning Ban back making it easier and easier. For the first time in his life things had begun sliding into place.

He could reach for her, and she’d be there - in meetings, in the streets, in the halls of their home, just as happy to be with him as he was with her. These days had felt like a dream, and he’d often mulled over telling her that it almost made everything else he’d suffered these past two centuries worth it. There was still a way to go yet; her trust in him wasn’t anywhere near absolute, but he thought they were on the right path.

But then there had been the nights.

Tossing and turning, unable to fall into trance. Hours of staring up at the ceiling, begging for rest to finally take him. Nightmares - of Cazador, of Ban’s cold gaze, of waking up that day after the reunion to find her gone.

He’d taken to sleeping on the floor again, carefully hiding the blanket and pillows away at dawn so she wouldn’t see them when she came over; he messed up the sheets and laid on the bed to make it seem like he’d slept there. The floor was, in some ways, a comfortable and familiar presence - reminiscent of those nights inside his tent, those nights when they were actually happy.

“Will you stay with me tonight?” The question slipped out of his mouth before he could rein it in. He quickly took a sip of his wine, hiding most of his face with the goblet.

Ban turned to him, an amused glint in her eyes. “Can’t get enough? I’m not surprised,” she drawled, in a sardonic approximation of his voice.

He rolled his eyes at her over the rim of his goblet, then downed the rest of the wine.

“And if I can’t? If I want you by my side forever - would that be so wrong?”

“No,” she said immediately, still smiling. She thought he was merely playing, and he was glad of it. She needn’t know how miserable these nights had been for him.

“Still. Only for tonight,” she added, not wanting to get his hopes up.

If this hurt him, he hid it exceedingly well, smiling at her in apparent delight.

She tried to smile back, but Astarion noticed something off. Ban’s smiles were a little different than before, he was well aware. The trials of their relationship had all but ensured that. But there was something more to this particular smile.

It didn't reach her eyes.

“There’s something wrong, isn’t there?” He scanned her face, eyes darting over her features, and try as she might to hide away, he could tell he was right.

“You’re not happy. Not really.” It wasn’t a question. He felt the urge to snap, to ask her exactly what more he could be doing for her, but he tamped it down. The feeling, however, brought up the rather unpleasant sensation of his heart being held hostage to her whims yet again.

“What’s wrong?” His tone was colder than he would like. He tried again. “Ban. Please.”

She averted her gaze, fixing her eyes on his chin. “I thought I missed him. I missed what we had,” she finally said, “And more and more often now, I can see him. He’s you. He’s always been you.” There was a pregnant pause as she pondered what she was actually trying to say.

“But then if you’re him… then he’s not really who I thought he was, was he? He hurt me too, because you hurt me.”

Ban was just now realizing she’d put her Astarion on a pedestal, her earlier memories of him being idealized by comparisons to when he’d been at his worst. But he had always been imperfect, at times callous, even cruel. She’d ignored that in her desire to return him to who he’d been.

Her words felt like they were strangling the life from him; his chest tightened and his first instinct was to hurt her back. But it only crossed his mind for an instant, and he shook his head to clear it.

“So.” He thought over her words. “You’re only here because I’m the closest thing to what you thought I was. You’re settling.” The realization wasn’t new; he’d always known. But to finally have it confirmed when he thought so much progress had been made felt like he was being ripped to pieces.

“No.” She shook her head. “I’m not settling. I’m just mourning.”

He bristled at that, but mostly kept it out of his voice. “Mourning what? Because I thought we established that I’m not two separate people, Ban.” His tone shifted a little at the end as he couldn’t quite keep the exasperation out of his voice. He waved a hand in frustration. “This is me. You’re grieving something that does not exist - has never existed.”

“I’m just mourning that we didn’t end up the way I thought we would. That you’re not really who I thought you were, even at the start. I’ve always been blinded by your charm,” she admitted, “I bought every lie you threw my way, and with every layer I uncovered, there were more.”

She had been sitting on this for a while, unsure how to bring it up without infuriating him. But she needed to say it before committing herself further.

“I accept you. All of you. Your light, your dark. I see you - I see kindness and goodness, but I also see selfishness. Ruthlessness. I can’t help but be sad about it at times. Is that fair?”

She watched as his expression changed from indignation to one that he rarely showed unrestrained, even with her - anguish.

“It’s fair,” he concurred. He reached out to take her hand, squeezing it.

“Ban.” He weighed the words he was about to say, then steeled his nerves. “I’m not… good. Never was. But I do try, at least when it comes to you.”

Because she deserved it. Because if she left him again, there would honestly be nothing else to live for. But that didn't mean it didn’t hurt - that the days since his ascension hadn’t killed him as much as they had her.

“Can I show you something, love?” he asked. He didn’t trust his voice to carry the weight of what he wanted to convey. He could feel her pain, comprehend it, and all he wanted was for her to see his.

He tentatively opened his mind to hers; when she allowed him in, he slowly poured his feelings into her - the indignation, the terror, the ache - the shame.

He let her see the overwhelming feeling of power, of being free for the first time, so intense that it had almost eclipsed everything else. How it all soured, burned away by the pain in the memories of her withdrawing from him and finally leaving him that flashed over their shared connection. Finally, there was that gaping, yawning chasm of his heart, a loneliness that had only recently started to abate and that threatened to overwhelm him every time he was parted from her, opening whenever she departed like a festering wound.

She gasped a little at the flood of emotions, then quickly severed the bond. Ban took a nervous drink from her goblet. She’d been so consumed by her own heartache that she had missed his.

“Astarion, I-”

He cut her off, shaking his head. The hand on hers squeezed tightly.

“Don’t say anything. I don’t deserve it.” The Ascendant gave himself a moment to calm. Were he a more selfless person, this would be where he would offer her a chance to leave. As it was, he was completely silent, eyes downcast, staring at his half-eaten dinner.

But even if he didn’t say anything, Ban knew. All she had to do was ask, and he would give it. He would give her anything.

“I’ll stay over tonight,” she repeated, not knowing what more to say.

Ban yawned, fluffing her pillow before settling down. She was exhausted, the day having been full of the most mundane meetings they’d had in a while. Astarion followed suit, lying on his back beside her, a gap between them.

She watched as he stared up at the ceiling and exhaled, closing his eyes. He was positioned in such a way that it made her think he was about to go into trance, but the way his bare chest rose and fell told her he was anything but close to repose. She let her hand rise, hovering over his chest for the briefest of moments, then lowered it to make contact. Her palm gently pressed against the center of his chest; she could feel his rapid breathing and his racing heart.

He opened his eyes at her touch, the tension easing somewhat as he felt her hand on him.

“Apologies,” he said, swallowing. His voice came out rough. “I’m not used to having someone around.” A poor excuse, considering they’d been sleeping in a shared space ever since he’d confessed his feelings in the Shadow-Cursed lands. At the shake of her head and her disbelieving gaze, he exhaled. Sometimes he wished she wasn’t so perceptive.

“Just tell me. There’s no one here.” Ban scooted closer, pressing against his body, slipping the hand on his chest down to his waist. Her head rested on his shoulder.

“No more walls, Astarion. Not with me.” She had an idea of what the problem was, but she needed it to be his choice to open up.

He bit his lip, briefly considering brushing her off, a reaction borne of habit. He pushed the idea away. “I don’t… rest very well,” he admitted, “Not since you left.” Her hand over his stomach felt nice, but it didn’t completely ease the tightness he felt all over his body.

“And so you’ve come to dread falling into trance.”

He nodded at her words, eyes finally meeting hers.

“What do you usually do to relieve stress?” she asked, her fingers tracing over the planes of his abdomen, moving a little lower to trace a hipbone.

“Before we started talking again, I slept with others, as you know,” he began carefully, “I never finished with them. I couldn’t. I would send them away and try to take care of myself. Now that you come see me daily,” he smiled, aiming for seductive but ending up more sweet than anything, “It’s… easier to get my needs met, but I still occasionally do touch myself to just-”

He waved a hand awkwardly, gesturing at himself. To not think. To just be.

“I can help,” Ban offered, her hand stilling on his hip, awaiting permission. Before he could say anything, she continued. “Just this, nothing more. You can come, and then you can rest.” Let me help you.

Astarion considered this for a moment. He wanted nothing more, and yet his mind resisted, resisted the idea that it would be all for him. But he looked to her and saw her eagerness to touch him, to help, and his reluctance faded in the face of it.

Swallowing, he nodded.

Ban smiled, and let her hand drift lower, very gently touching him. She found him soft, delicately wrapping her fingers around his length.

He took a deep breath, eyes locking onto her, a mix of arousal and apprehension evident in his gaze.

“Relax,” she urged, “Close your eyes, and just focus on how this feels.”

With that, the Ascendant, the most powerful vampire in the realms, let his eyes fall shut and surrendered himself to his beloved.

The feeling was delicious. He could feel her hand caressing him from base to tip, his cock rapidly hardening under her touch. He felt a bead of moisture form on the tip; she quickly swiped it with her thumb to spread it, sending shivers through him.

“You’re perfect,” she whispered, kissing her way down his chest. Her lips captured his nipple, suckling, and the sensation made him buck. A low whine escaped his lips at the praise, his cock throbbing in her grasp, his arousal only growing.

Ban took it slow, her strokes soft and almost frustratingly unhurried. Astarion tried to roll his hips, seeking more friction, but she touched his hip with her other hand, a gentle admonishment that had him stilling immediately.

The feeling of her mouth suckling at his nipple and of her hand wrapped around his cock were all that filled his mind. There was no worry about what terrors the night would bring, no worry about what tomorrow may hold. No fear that he’d wake to find her gone again. His cock pulsed almost painfully in Ban’s grasp, wanting, needing more.

“Please,” he whispered, keeping his eyes shut. He no longer found shame in begging when it came to her, knowing she would take care of him and give him what he needed. In response to his plea, Ban’s hand sped up, twisting in the way she knew he liked with every pass. Astarion parted his lips, panting quietly.

His legs spread further apart, thighs twitching and toes beginning to curl. His breathing was a loud, needy thing; his hand rose to cup the back of Ban’s head, gently nudging her off of his nipple and towards the center of his chest.

“I’m close,” he said softly. His eyes opened, fixing her with a gaze so intense she could almost physically feel it.

“Listen, please. To my heart.” She hadn’t done it in so long, laid her head against his center and the memory of when she had last done it without prompting sent a wave of pain through him.

“It’s yours, Ban. It- I need you,” he added.

The last time she had laid on him like that unasked was the night before they’d confronted Cazador. She had held him close the entire time, and had fallen asleep to the slow thrum of his then-undead heart as they’d rested in their shared bed at the Elfsong.

“Whatever happens tomorrow,” she said, nuzzling into his chest. “I’ve got you.”

He asked her what she thought, what her ideas were regarding the rite. But she was cagey and rather noncommittal.

“All I ever want is your happiness, Astarion. Whatever shape or form it might take.” She was idly drawing circles on his chest with her index finger, her head rising and falling with his breaths.

“You said we shouldn’t condemn my poor brothers and sisters,” he countered. It irked him to hear her say it, but he’d brought it up in the spirit of honesty.

“Because that ought to be what I want to say.”

“Then what do you really want to say?”

“As long as you’re happy, I couldn’t care less.”

Words she’d ultimately regretted, true, but she’d meant them without reservations at the time.

She had always put him first. Above all - above the gods, above her own admittedly limited morality. Above herself.

Everything had fallen apart after that.

Astarion’s request brought a small smile to her lips. “I’d be more than happy to.” She settled her ear over his sternum, and the speed of his rapidly-beating heart took her by surprise.

The heart that beat under her ear now was the very same heart, but its rhythm was entirely different. It galloped now, as a living heart would. It didn’t faze her - in fact, it sent a small shiver of lust through her, realizing just how much he was enjoying this. Enjoying her. She could feel the vein in his cock pulsing with every heartbeat; she positioned her thumb to feel it better. She increased the pace, his cock hot and throbbing, silky skin pleasant in her hand.

Astarion had fallen mostly silent, small whimpers and gasps the only noises emanating from him. He just existed, just felt. His toes curled tighter, and he shook his head from side to side, biting his lip as he felt his orgasm approach.

“Ban-” It was all the warning he could give before he erupted, his cock throbbing with each spurt of hot, glistening come. His mouth opened in a wordless snarl of pleasure, his back arching. He spilled all over his abdomen and her hand, shuddering weakly, his eyes still shut.

Ban stroked him through his climax, then stilled, her hand remaining wrapped around him as he came down from his high. Her head, pressed against his chest the entire time by his hand, stayed over his heart, hearing it race ever faster as he orgasmed, then slowly settle as he recovered.

He opened his eyes to see her peeking up at his face, and he smiled, breathless. He’d had so many moments with her, but it was almost as if he was seeing her for the first time.

“I love you,” he murmured, and he meant it with every fiber of his being. He had refrained from saying it ever since they had begun trying to repair their relationship, knowing that those words had been cheapened when he’d first ascended.

He’d used them to manipulate her, and he had sworn to himself that he wouldn’t use them again until he truly meant it.

Ban smiled shyly, letting go of his softening cock. She shifted, pressing a gentle kiss over his chest. She didn’t answer him, unsure if she was ready for him to hear that yet. But in her mind she thought it back. I love you too.

She’d never stopped loving him. She’d whispered it to him when she’d last slept over. She thought it to herself whenever they parted for the day.

Instead of saying anything, she sat up and cupped his cheek. He leaned heavily into the touch, his eyes beginning to droop, as if he wanted nothing more than to close them and rest.

“Let me clean you up, and then we can sleep.”

Ban left the bed to grab a fresh towel and wet it in the bathroom, then came back to clean him off. By the time she’d finished he was already in trance, his eyes closed and a small smile on his face.

She curled up next to him, took one last look at his peaceful expression, and closed her own eyes.

The next thing Ban heard was a loud, panicked shout.

“Let me go! No!”

It was his voice. Ban opened her eyes, and realized Astarion was thrashing in the bed, attempting to protect himself from something.

She’d seen him have nightmares before, but this one seemed particularly bad. She reached out, trying to grasp his shoulders. “Astarion? It’s okay. You’re okay.” As she moved closer, however, his clawed hands struck out desperately, scratching her face hard enough to draw blood.

“I said let me go!”

The smell of her blood hit his nose, and his eyes flew open. He’d recognize that bouquet anywhere, and it had snapped him out of his nightmare.

It took him a moment. He blinked, staring at her bloodied face, even as the cuts began to heal. His eyes widened as the realization set in. He had hurt her yet again, even as he had been trying so hard to be better. He had failed.

“Ban, I… I had a nightmare… and I didn’t…”

His voice trailed off, panic settling in. His hands cupped her face, trembling fingers tracing over the now-sealed cuts.

Gods, please. Don’t leave me. Not again.

She didn’t hesitate, covering his hands with her own. “It’s alright, Astarion. I know.” As if reading his mind, she placed a kiss over his forehead and murmured “I’m not leaving you,” again and again, until she could feel the tension melt from his body.

A small gasp broke the silence and he hugged her tightly, holding her close to his body, terrified that if he let go she would disappear.

“Swear it,” he said, and there was a hint of the Ascendant’s aggression there. But Ban knew it to be borne out of fear, knew he needed reassurance more than anything.

“I swear.” She contemplated her words for a moment, and then finally said what she’d been keeping to herself for so long.

“I love you, Astarion. I swear I’m staying.”

He met her gaze, drinking in her promise, drinking in her love. That ravenous hole in his heart felt full, for once, and he released the breath he’d been holding. He finally started to calm, and his lips found hers, capturing them in a kiss that didn’t indicate a need for sex, but was rather a gesture of love.

The kiss ended and he pulled his face away with a shy smile. “Thank you,” he managed, arms still holding her close. That was all he intended to say, at first.

But his mind raced ahead of him, and his next words spilled out before he could really think about them.

“Then come home, Ban.”

She stared at him for a long moment, and he averted his gaze, eyes wide and almost tearful. He was awaiting her rejection, his body tensing in anticipation of the blow.

Instead she brought a hand to his chin, turning it so he had to face her.

“Alright,” she said, nodding. “I’ll move back.”

They held each other, and fell into the warm embrace of rest in each other’s arms. There were so many ways this could have fallen apart, and yet here they were - broken souls finding a small semblance of peace in each other. For once there were no games, no manipulation. The masks were gone, and it was just them.

For however long this peace lasted, they were content.

#astarion #astarion baldurs gate #baldurs gate astarion #astarion x tav #astarion fic #bg3 #bg3 astarion #astarion x mc #ascended astarion x f!tav #astarion bg3 #ascended astarion x tav #astarion ascended #ascendant astarion #vampire ascendant #astarion ancunin #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 fanfic

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shadeops21 · 3 months ago

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New Sideproject - "What If" aircraft liveries

Got bored.

Downloaded AC7 aircraft models and retexture templates.

Made a thing.

Figured I'd share.

"F/A-23 Redback", of 75SQN, Royal Australian Air Force

[Lore/Story behind the aircraft below the cut]

When Lockheed Martin won the Advanced Tactical Fighter (ATF) program with their YF-22 Raptor demonstrator, Northrop & McDonnell Douglas placed their contender, the YF-23 Black Widow II's, into storage pending dismantling for static display.

However, fortune would come calling from an unsuspecting source: Australia. The Royal Australian Air Force had recently completed delivery of 75 brand new F/A-18A/B Hornets to replace their aging fleet of Mirage III's. However, planners within the Department of Defence and Australian Defence Force recognised the shifting landscape of aerial warfare, and payed close attention to the US's ATF program.

Initially, the RAAF wanted to purchase the F-22 after it won the program in 1991 and had expressed tentative interest, though didn't commit due to the high initial operating costs at the time and recent budgetary issues the ADF faced due to other concurrent modernization programs taking place. By the time the RAAF were ready to order the aircraft, the US had marked the aircraft as unavailable for export sales.

Lockheed Martin did offer the RAAF the opportunity to buy into the Joint Strike Fighter program, which would be the precursor program that resulted in the development of the F-35 Lighting II series of aircraft, however RAAF leadership turned to McDonnell Douglas and Northrop, recalling how well their YF-23 performed in the program demonstrations.

The two testbed aircraft, Spider and Grey Ghost, were shipped to Australian on loan for use by the RAAF's Aircraft Research & Development Unit (ARDU) for evaluations in the mid 1990's, as the operating environment in Australia was different to that of the United States. While the aircraft performed well, some modifications were suggested including the use of more fuel efficient engines, an adjusted cockpit panel layout, and provisions to mount external stores much like the F-22 had (primarily for long-distance ferry flights across Australia, but also for use in low-threat or permissive environments where stealth is not a concern).

Northrop & McDonnell Douglas accommodated the upgrades, and in 1999, an initial purchase of 24 F/A-23A stealth fighters was made to equip two squadrons with the modified design. The airframe was given the designator of Redback in reference to the small but dangerous spider that called the continent home, whilst also showing homage to the original name of Black Widow II.

No 75 SQN and No 77 SQNs were the first recipients of the new F/A-23As, operating as composite squadrons comprised of both the new Redback and the older F/A-18A+ Hornets. As the Hornets aged, they were transferred to No. 2 Operational Conversion Unit for training and adversarial use.

There was talk of purchasing more Redbacks to augment a strike gap left behind pending the retirement of the venerable F-111C Aardvarks, however the decision was made to purchase Boeing's F/A-18F Super Hornets (with Boeing having bought and merged with McDonnell Douglas).

F/A-23A Redback was the initial version developed in the late 1990s and early 2000's, with upgrades and enhancements introduced over time to incorporate newer technologies and extend the life of these aircraft. Upgraded aircraft were unofficially referred to as -23A+s, similar to how F/A-18As that were upgraded to match the capability of the newer F/A-18C/Ds were referred to as A/B+

In the late 2000's, the RAAF (under license from Northrop/Boeing) introduced a variant featuring new engines, a new radar and updated avionics to incorporate newly released weapons systems, designated F/A-23B.

With the F-35 coming into service with the US and other JSF partner nations, and the older legacy Hornets retired out of service, the RAAF were looking into how to compliment their fleet of Redbacks. The F/A-18F Super Hornets operated by No. 1 and No. 6 Squadron were due for upgrade, and Boeing proposed the "Advanced Super Hornet" as a upgrade package.

To sweeten the deal, components from ASH were splintered off for use to update the fleet of F/A-23Bs, now used by all three former Hornet squadrons (3, 75, & 77) as well as 2OCU and the ARDU. Forming the B+ 'Mid Life Update', components borrowed from the ASH included it's new IRST and AESA radar package, compatibility with the Enclosed Weapons Pod, and a fully glass cockpit display.

By 2020, both the Redback and Rhino finished their upgrades, and formed the backbone of Australia's air warfare component, with No.'s 3, 75, and 77 operating F/A-23B+ Redbacks, No. 1 operating the F/A-18F+ (informal designation for the Advanced Super Hornet) and No. 6 operating as a composite of F/A-18F+ and EA-18G+ (EA-18G Growlers given the Advanced Super Hornet upgrade package).

Australia remains the only operator of the YF-23 platform, though not for a lack of trying on the part of Northrop & McDonnell Douglas (later Boeing).

---

If you made it this far, good on 'ya.

This YF-23 "What If" concept livery is dedicated to my friend @kaitaiga, who I know is fucking obsessed with the YF-23 Black Widow II. The livery came first, and then of course my 'writer' brain had to think up a background as to how the RAAF got their hands on an F-22 equivalent aircraft and maintained its service instead of buying into the F-35 program.

I have nothing against F-35 (anymore) though I am still salty that we haven't gone full-send into the Advanced Super Hornet. The CFTs along the spine just look sleek as fuck.

Thank you for reading!

#fighter jets #fighter aviation #a what-if concept

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thesims4blogger · 5 months ago

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The Sims 4: Base Game Townie Home Refresh

Sul Sul, Simmers! My name’s Colin, and I’m a Producer on The Sims 4! Like many of you, I’ve been playing The Sims for a long time. I was first introduced to the series back in 2000, and the rest is history. As such a long-time fan of the franchise, I consider it an honor to contribute to the fantastic legacy of The Sims!

Today I’m excited to share a unique project the team has been working on to enhance your base game experience further and deepen the established lore within our game!

Base Game Townie Home Refresh

Over the last 10 years, The Sims 4 Base Game has received many Build/Buy Mode updates, some of which include pools, platforms, half walls, new SDX items, and more! The team wanted to breathe new life into some of our most iconic lots, utilizing all these great features that have been added over the years.

These lots were built with the utmost love and care by talented members of The Sims 4 Development Team. Our goal was not to bulldoze the lot and start from scratch, but to honor the existing lot while giving it some updates and modifications that made it fresh and exciting! Some elements will feel new, while other elements pay homage to the original lots.

While updating these homes, each dev received a summary of each sim in the household, including their age, traits, career, and aspirations. Utilizing this information, the team layered in unique decor, skill-building items, and other fun nods to the townies who live in this home. We aimed for these homes (and even the bedrooms) to be immediately recognizable and suit the sims who live there.

Both the Updated and Original Lots will be available in your “My Library folder. Update them all, update some, or keep the original lots - the choice is yours!

We hope you enjoy these new homes and the stories you’ll tell with them!

How to See this Refresh In-Game

We’ve updated all occupied Residential (or Townie) Lots in Willow Creek and Oasis Springs in today's patch.

Players that start a New Save after this update will automatically see these refreshed lots in Willow Creek and Oasis Springs. If you have an Existing Save, you will not see any updates automatically. But, you can manually place them in an existing save from the “My Library” tab.

To see the Refreshed Lots with a New Save:

Start a New Game from the Main Menu.

After creating your household in CAS, go to Willow Creek or Oasis Springs.

The Refreshed Lots will automatically be in the world for you to enjoy!

To see the Refreshed Lots with an Existing Save:

Load your Existing Save from the Main Menu.

Go to Manage Worlds, and then go to Willow Creek or Oasis Springs.

Click on the “Gallery” tab in the top right corner.

Click on the “My Library” and filter by “Maxis.” You’ll see all the updated lots here.

Select the desired lot and click “Place Lot” at the bottom right corner.

Select the desired lot location and confirm to place the lot.

Repeat this process for any desired lots you’d like to see updated.

LEFT: BFF House Before Refresh. RIGHT: BFF House After Refresh

Here are Some Helpful FAQs

I edited a townie lot in an existing save. Will my build be impacted?

No, your build will not be impacted. Even if you modified the townie home before the update, this update should not impact existing saves.

I created my own lot where a townie lot used to be located in an existing save. Will my build be impacted?

No, your build will not be impacted. This update should not impact existing saves, even if you built a new lot where a townie lot used to be.

I’m manually placing the lots in an existing save, but when I try to place a lot, the townie household can’t afford the new home.

If this happens, you can utilize the “Free Real Estate” cheat.

You can open the cheat menu by pressing “Ctrl + Shift + C” on your PC or holding down all the shoulder buttons on your console controller.

Type in “testingCheats true”

Type in “FreeRealEstate On”

Continue the lot placement as instructed above.

I would like to keep the original homes. How can I keep them in my game?

In order to see the original homes, you’ll need to manually replace them.

We’ve added the “Legacy Versions” to your Library for you to place.

With an Existing Save, I see the updated lots in the World View, but they are not updated when I load into them.

Should this occur, you can do the following:

Load into the lot and save your game.

Load back into the World View. You should now see the accurate thumbnail.

If you are looking for the updated lots in an existing save, they can only be added manually.

#news #the sims 4 #ys4 #sims 4

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natolesims · 2 years ago

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MY HEART IS YOURS | A Sims 4 Legacy Challenge

Written by @natolesims AKA @dustbon

I did a thing! This challenge is based on the mexican telenovela "Mi Corazón es Tuyo" (My Heart is Yours) where the main character, an exotic dancer, ends up working as a nanny for a millionaire by accident. I used to watch it every single afternoon with my abuelita and since I was feeling nostalgic, this challenge came to life. Hehe.

This is a 10 gen, story-driven challenge with detailed objectives and dynamics for each generation. I hope you like it! I'd love to see if you play it, so feel free to tag me or use #myheartisyourslegacy

Rules under the cut! Or if you prefer it, here's the Google Doc~

NOTES AND GENERAL RULES

Adult themes are included in some generations. You’ve been warned.

There might be some aspects of the gameplay that might not be included in the game by default (for example, earning money as a nanny or a dancer). If you play with mods, feel free to use how many you’d like to enhance the experience!

Alternatively, you can always make your own twist and interpretation of the challenge, its features and rules. It’s your gameplay, so have fun and do your thing!

Since the story revolves around wealthy families, I’d suggest to create / download some rich sims or households if you’d like to have more options.

You can skip, add new or change the order of the generations.

No cheats allowed besides freerealestate or funds modification (according to some situations)

I created this challenge considering multiple aspects of the game and its DLCs. If you’d like to change or substitute something, go ahead!

Each generation is a bit specific, so I’d suggest to play on normal / long lifespan or pause aging whenever you consider necessary.

Again, have fun!!

GEN 1 - THE NANNY

You are an orphan who learned to survive on your own at a very young age. After years of working as an exotic dancer you finally managed to buy your own little house, but you lost everything unexpectedly. In an act of desperation, you asked for a large loan from your horrible boss who has you trapped in their grasp and the money they gave you is still not enough to get by... so you signed up into an employment agency to get the expense off the ground. As if it weren’t enough, they mixed up your papers and now you've been hired as a… babysitter? Are you kidding? Welp, thank goodness you love children.

Traits: Good, Family-Oriented, Loyal

Aspiration: Super Parent / Big Happy Family

Skills: Max dancing, charisma and parenting

Job: Make-believe nanny and part-time exotic dancer.

Rules:

Move to an empty house and set your funds to 0.

Alternatively: Move to a furnished home and destroy everything through an "incident" (you can cheat for this) and break all the plumbing. You can’t fix those items, only replace them after you get your loan money.

Have a night job as an exotic dancer in a local club. None of your day job clients should recognize you while you’re working at the club, and vice-versa.

If you have mods that fit this situation, feel free to use them! Save the tips you earn :)

If you play this vanilla, disguise your sim and send them dancing to a club each night. You'll earn $200 per day if performance.

Ask the nightclub owner (your boss) for a loan of $8,000 simoleons. You’ll have to keep dancing there until:

A) You earn the money and pay your debt, or

B) You’ve been working in the club for 1 in-game year, but then you can’t keep the money you’ve earned from dancing.

Optional: Consider paying $1,000 for a renovation permit and another $1,000 for plumbing and electrical installation per story.

Start a day job as a nanny. You’ll earn $300 per family.

To do so: Meet sims with children and visit them often to take care of the kids. You can only help one family per day.

Alternatively: You can choose a particular household to be working for. The wealthier and more kids, the better.

Give your sim the always welcome trait so you won’t have issues with cooking and stuff.

For super wealthy families: You can build a room for yourself in their homes or use the visit room if they have one, but you can’t move your sim into their households at all. You’ll still have to work at the club at night and work on rebuilding your little home.

Befriend all the kids of the families you’ve worked for.

Fall in love with the head of family of the wealthiest household that hired you. To marry your potential spouse, you must:

End paying the nightclub debt

Finish rebuilding your house again :)

Become friends with the live-in services, if they have (butler, chef, maid, gardener, etc.)

Max your friendly relationship with each kid the love interest has. Only then you can start building a romantic relationship with them.

If they already have a spouse, make them your enemy and have the love interest divorce them.

Have as many own kids as you can.

GEN 2 - A GROOVY GRANDPA

You come from a rich family that cares for its wealth with fervor. You did everything your parents and your parents' parents taught you: work hard, make money, have an heir and make even more money. You always felt that working was the only purpose of your life… but now that you are older, you realized how wrong you were. Now that you're old, loades, and your family can fend for themselves, you have the opportunity to do everything you couldn't in your youth.

Traits: Materialistic, ambitious, loner.

Aspiration: 1) Mansion Baron and 2) Inner Peace

Skills: All the skills needed for the career of your choice, mixology, dancing, wellness and a hobby of your choice (as an elder).

Job: Business (Investor Branch) or Salaryperson (Expert Branch)

Rules:

Go to university and get a degree that’ll help you get a jump start on the career of your choice (options above).

University can be tedious and long to play, so I’d suggest using a mod that makes the terms shorter :)

Reach the top of your career as a young adult.

Marry a wealthy sim out of tradition and have only one child. That’s our heir.

Have a so-so relationship with your kid and your spouse.

Your spouse should die as an adult (you can cheat for this).

Focus on making all the money you can while being an adult. If you can get fame points while you’re at it, perfect.

Once you reach elderhood, have a life crisis and embrace a new “you”.

Change your traits to: Romantic, adventurous and goofball.

Change your aspiration to: Inner Peace.

I’d strongly suggest to turn aging off so you won’t die of old age.

Enjoy life! Be self-indulgent, go partying, pick up new hobbies, make new friends, visit new places.

Try getting the emotional mindful moodlet often.

Find true love with a humble sim significantly younger than you.

The next heir must disapprove your new relationship.

Have a child through pregnancy or adoption with your new partner. Move out of the family home and go live with your new little family.

Focus on being an excellent parent and spoil the little one rotten until the last of your days.

GEN 3 - THE WORKAHOLIC

Your father lost it and messed up his life's direction... and stained the family’s values. You carry your last name with pride and you’re determined to put it back to its former glory by doing what you do best: working. You will rescue the company that your father nearly ruined, return wealth and good fortune to your family and lead an exemplary life, whatever it’s the cost. Your children constantly complain about how absent and cold you are, but they are too young to understand the importance of your priorities. They will thank you one day.

Traits: Proper, Ambitious, Perfectionist.

Aspiration: Fabulously Wealthy

Skills: All the skills needed for your career only. You’re not interested in anything else.

Job: Business (Management Branch)

Rules:

Always excel as a student.

Don't have a social life.

All sims you meet (except the future spouse) must stay as acquaintances.

Always turn down any kind of social invite.

Never throw a party of any sort.

Never celebrate a birthday, not even your own.

Go to university and study communications at U-Brite. At uni you must:

Enter the secret society.

Enter the debate guild.

Graduate with honors.

Meet the love of your life during your time as a student. Your spouse must:

Have good traits only.

Belong to a wealthy family.

You can only marry if you have a full romance bar.

Also: no woohoo before marriage!

You two must live in the family home / manor. Refurnish it with expensive items, fine art and decorations if it isn’t.

Have a butler. If you play with mods, also have all sorts of live-in services. If not, hire a scheduled gardening, maid and nanny service via the phone.

Don’t have any kind of pets. Not even fish.

Fill up your sim's fun need by doing "boring activities". For example:

Only listen to the talk radio and classical music stations.

Only watch the news and the weather channel.

Don't tell jokes.

The only game your sim can play is chess.

Only read non-fiction or skill books.

You get the idea by now :)

Dedicate your entire existence to your career, completing your aspiration and your loving partner.

Earn fame points through situations or interactions related to your career only.

Get the workaholic lifestyle and live accordingly.

Have as many children as you can with your spouse. After the last family slot is taken, your spouse has to die unexpectedly (you can cheat for this)

After your spouse's demise, change two of your traits to: Hot headed and gloomy.

Have a rocky relationship with all of your children:

Try to limit your interactions with your children. Have the helping sims (butler and nanny) take care of them.

Develop the strict family dynamic with every single child.

All of your kids must be top students and gain the good manners character value trait.

Your kids must have a tight schedule: School, after-school activities, homework time, limited playtime, music lessons (for girls), sport lessons (for boys) and early bedtime. If they develop a dislike for an activity, accept it but they’ll have to do it anyway.

Marry a co-worker as an adult, but do not love them. On the contrary to your loving spouse, they must only have negative traits. Bonus points if they have the hates children trait.

Start a recurrent affair with one of your service sims.

The next generation starts when the heir is a teen.

GEN 4 - THE INDECISIVE ROMANTIC

You grew up in a large family that seemed more like a military company. Being the smartest of all your siblings, your father always sought to train you in such a way that you would take his place when time comes, but you don't want to be remotely like him. You are still young and you have enough time to change the course of things. You want adventure, you want love, you want happiness and wealth… but the pursuit of hedonism may not help you make the smartest decisions.

Traits: Genius, bookworm, snob

Aspiration: 1) Nerd brain 2) Serial Romantic

Skills: Logic, writing, research and debate, fitness

Job: Law career (Private Attorney Branch)

Rules:

Be the typical nerdy teen. Embrace the stereotype at its fullest.

Always excel in school

Complete the nerd brain aspiration as a teenager.

Frequent intellectual lots like libraries and museums.

If you can, become a valedictorian and/or achieve early graduation.

Start a romantic, toxic relationship with the first sim who is constantly rude to you.

Your sim has to still be a teen.

Break-up and get together again frequently.

Enter the U-Brite Communications program as your parent did, but drop out shortly after. You want something else in life.

Improve your physical appearance and start working out. After your makeover, change your bookworm trait for the self-absorbed trait.

Move out on your own, live the party life and date around! But keep coming back to your toxic ex.

Don’t have any source of income after moving out.

Have an accidental pregnancy with your ex, but don’t take responsibility for the baby.

Have another accidental pregnancy with one of your affairs, and also don’t take responsibility.

This other sim must have the good or cheerful trait.

After spending all your simoleons on parties and vice and, go back to the family home and enter the Law career to become a private attorney.

After getting your life in order again, look for your previous partners and decide to take care after the kids they had with you.

Don’t have any more kids after that.

Start building up both romantic relationships again, but keep them in the shadows from one another. Never make a final decision.

Write books as a hobby, but only publish: non-fiction, poetry and biography books.

The least disciplined child will be the heir.

GEN 5 - THE ADVENTURER

You grew up in a millionaire family that has everything you could imagine, but somehow you always felt like you didn't belong to it. There is a certain indomitable spirit of adventure within yourself and when you came of age, you decided to fully embrace it. Your parent disapproves and would rather have you not prefer an unstable life of artistic adventure to the safety of a well-established profession... but he has no place to tell a you a thing, knowing the kind of life he led in his young years. Leaving all the responsibility of the house and the family business to your half-brother, you packed your bags and took the first plane to the jungle.

Traits: Active, creative, loves outdoors.

Aspiration: 1) Jungle Explorer 2) Mt. Komorebi Sightseer, 3) Beach Life and 4) Archaeology Scholar.

Skill: Selvadorian Culture, Archaeology, Fishing, Fitness, Singing and Guitar.

Job: Freelance photographer.

Rules:

Always be a laid back, cool type of person.

Frequent museums and parks as a kid and teenager.

Once you graduate high-school, travel the world to become a nature photographer! Think of a globetrotter-ish kind of generation:

1: Selvadorada.

Build a luxurious villa as your jungle home (you’re still a millionaire, so no problem with this). You’ll frequent it a lot during the generation.

Complete the Jungle Explorer Aspiration.

Once you reach level 2 of the photography skill, you can travel to the next destination:

2: Mt. Komorebi

Complete the Mt. Komorebi Sightseer Aspiration.

Visit each festival.

Once you reach level 3 of the photography skill, you can travel to the next destination:

3: Sulani

Complete the Beach Life Aspiration

Max the fishing skill.

Max the photography skill.

Be a flirt and have multiple lovers across the worlds, but find true love with one in particular.

Optional 1: have this sim travel with you as a companion.

Optional 2: have your half-brother fall in love with them as well.

Complete 3 collections of your choice.

Become famous by publishing your photographs.

After ending your stay in Sulani, your half brother must die (you can cheat for this). You’ll have to go back to the family home and take care of the generational fortune.

Keep traveling often to Selvadorada, the world you like the most. Work on completing the Archaeology Scholar Aspiration during your short visits.

Decide to settle down with the sim you fell in love with and form a family of your own.

Have lots of children.

GEN 6 - THE STAR

You don't understand the tendency of past family heads to get rid of a life full of all sorts of comfort. Dirt? Ew. Luxury and fame are everything to you, but since you were young you had a problem with your appearance and awkward personality. But you know what? That is going to change. You are not interested in a boring company or looking for love: you just want to shine as bright as the sun.

Traits: Self-absorbed, materialistic, high-maintenance.

Aspiration: World-Famous celebrity.

Skills: Charisma, mischief, acting.

Job: Social Media (Internet Personality), Actor (optional)

Rules:

Be the “ugly duckling” of the family while growing up.

Have the socially awkward trait as a teen.

Have your first puppy love as a pre-teen / teenager, but be heartbroken. Never believe in true love after that.

Have a bad relationship with every single family member.

Move out on your own to a luxurious home as soon as you become a young adult and cut ties with the rest of the family, previous friends and acquaintances. You’re on your own now.

Have a radical image change after becoming independent.

Enter and reach the top of the Social Media career as an Internet Personality. Only then you can enter the Actor career if you wish.

You can only actively work as a Young Adult.

Start building your own fortune through fame and gold-digging.

Have an accidental pregnancy and use it to your convenience. Keep the baby.

Never develop the parenting skill

Have a bad relationship with your kid

Mold your child to your image. They must be conventionally beautiful.

Your child must be well educated and skilled, but have terrible character value traits.

If you marry, become a widow everyone shows their sympathy to. Keep being a gold digger after that and never remarry.

Quit your job(s) right after entering the adult lifestage and spend your fortune as if there were no tomorrow.

The next gen starts when the heir becomes a young adult. By then, you must be broke and have lost all your fame.

GEN 7 - THE HOMEWRECKER

You always meant an instrument for your parent, even before you were born. Thanks to them, you are an expert in the art of manipulation, seduction and performance. You are beautiful, intelligent, cold and calculating. Such confidence and mettle has carried you far from childhood, but now that you're an adult, it's time to think big and not make the same mistakes as your stupid parent... even if it means carrying them around for the rest of your life. Now, time to choose a victim to pay the family debts and live a perfect life.

Traits: Evil, hates children, hot-headed.

Aspiration: 1) Drama llama, 2) Mansion Baron

Skills: Charisma, logic, writing, acting, research and debate.

Job: Salaryperson (Supervisor Branch)

Rules:

Be the perfect, spoiled brat your mother made you since childhood.

Always have a pristine image, even if you’re broke as hell. People doesn’t need to know your family is in bankruptcy

Become the unreachable, popular meanie in highschool and embrace those vibes throughout teenagedom, but never start a serious relationship.

Complete the Drama Llama teen aspiration.

Move out on your own as a young adult, but have the previous heir move in with you shortly after to live at your expense. Your parent:

Cannot get a job or have any source of income of any sort.

Has to have the slob trait (you can cheat this),

Has to follow every whim related to their personality, and

Has to spend $5,000 simoleons by the end of each week. If you don’t have the money, add it to a “debt” list you must pay.

Enter the salaryperson career (Supervisor Branch) and reach the top of it quickly as a young adult. As soon as you reach it, get relaxed and don’t pay much attention to your career anymore.

Optional: get an university degree that’ll help you get a jumpstart. If you chose to do this, you’ll have to study at home, ask for all the scholarships you can and graduate with honors (of course).

If you get the workaholic lifestyle, go to coaching to get rid of it.

You must choose only one ultimate spouse candidate.

They must be attractive (to your sim), successful and ridiculously wealthy.

They must be already in a serious romantic relationship of any sort with another sim.

Bonus points if they have at least one child.

Once you decide on a love interest, develop one-sided feelings for them and do everything in your reach to gain their favor, but they should never love you.

Get to marry your love interest one way or another. Move your sim and the previous heir into their home and enjoy your new fortune :))

Once you marry, adopt your spouse’s last name.

Have only one own child: the result of a one-time affair with another sim.

Use mean interactions only with every child you meet (even your own), any “low-class” sim you meet and service sims.

Gain the Twisted Heart reward trait.

GEN 8 - THE BEAUTY

You've lived in a bubble all your life. Despite having a lousy relationship with your parent, they have given you everything you wanted and more: a good education, luxury, travels and gifts. You have always tried to fulfill their expectations and desires... until you met the love of your life in someone you would never have expected. After a terrible argument with your family, you decided to run away with your love and start a new life from scratch. The plan sounded good in your mind, but then you realized that you don't know how to do anything other than being cute.

Traits: Good, Clumsy, Romantic

Aspiration: 1) Admired icon 2) Soulmate

Skills: None in particular

Job: None in particular

Rules:

Be the stereotypical perfect, beautiful and shallow rich kid.

Have a bad relationship with your parent, but respect their authority.

Try not to do activities that make you gain "useful" skills (or any skill). Focus only on having fun and enjoying life.

Complete the Admired Icon aspiration in your teenage years.

Have your parent arrange your future marriage with a wealthy sim and start a forced relationship with them, but reject their romantic advances often.

Enter university in a conventionally well-respected degree program. Become engaged with your current partner at the same time.

Find true love with a service sim.

They can be either one of your household's employees or a NPC like the mailman, a street vendor, a mixologist, a firefighter, etc.

They must be poor.

They must have the creative trait.

They must be a single parent.

Keep your affair with the service sim in secret until a family member, a close friend or your partner discovers you. Only then you can break your current engagement and escape to live with the love of your life.

Move your sim with their new partner and their child, but bring no simoleons or material goods whatsoever in your inventory.

You can only move to a Needs TLC starter apartment or a starter home with the Gremlins and Grody lot traits.

The lot or apartment cannot be pretty when you first move to it.

You cannot move out of it on this gen.

Drop out of university but don't get a job. Your spouse must work as a starving artist (Painter career level 1) and don't let them get promoted.

If you play with mods, keep them in the service career they were when you met them.

Spend all the household's funds on useless things.

Optional: Everytime your sim breaks anything (even the plates while washing them), cheat -$100 simoleons of the household funds.

Get a job only when all your services are cut down after not paying your bills.

You should go through all the basegame careers before deciding on a permanent one. You may start with part-time jobs, then full time careers.

After you decide on a career to stay, focus on developing the necessary skills for it. When you reach level 3, your spouse can finally work on their artistic career.

If the spouse sells their art, they can't gain fame out of it.

Have only one own child after your household has a stable income.

GEN 9 - THE NONCOMMITTAL ENTREPRENEUR

In your family there was never a lack of love, but money definitely was a problem. Your parents made an effort to give you everything that was within their reach, but the truth is that you could never shake off the itch of having something more… something “big”. The thing is that working seriously is not your thing. Never has been, in fact. However, you have brilliant ideas that you just have to materialize with the right investment. But first, let’s go to the party everyone’s talking about.

Traits: Lazy, party animal, noncommittal

Aspiration: 1) Live Fast 2) Party Animal

Skills: Juice fizzing, dancing, entrepreneur skill.

Job: Odd jobs

Rules:

Be a terrible student and surround yourself with lots of friends.

Complete the Live Fast teen aspiration. Then, drop out of high-school but keep living with your parents.

Gain the Irresponsible character value trait.

Earn money only through odd jobs or in-game activities that doesn’t require "intellectual" skills (like writing, programming, painting, etc.), but have Juice fizzing as your main interest.

Frequent party lots every single night like bars, clubs and lounges and spend at least $500 simoleons each night on bar drinks.

Accept every party invite you get, no matter who they are or what your sim is currently doing.

Meet a love interest in one party night and start a relationship right away, but don't commit to it:

Never take the initiative to go on dates with them, only accept their invitations and make them pay for everything.

Be unfaithful.

Ask them for loans and crash their place frequently to take care of your needs (eating from their fridge, using their shower, etc).

Only visit them to woohoo if your fun levels are low.

Have unprotected woohoo often (try for baby instead of regular woohoo or use mods for this)

Have an accidental pregnancy with your partner and get excited by it.

Once the baby's born, you'll have to take care of them and your partner will have to dump you and lose all contact. You can then move out of your parents' house.

Now that you're a parent, take your side hustles more seriously and even get a part time job if you decide to, but keep partying at nights and spending most of your earned money on vice.

Don't have any more kids and try to nurture your child as much as you can.

Have an unexpected death while the heir is a child.

GEN 10 - THE (UN)LUCKY MIXOLOGIST

When you were little, you listened with amazement to all kinds of stories that your father told you about the adventures and misadventures of your ancestors. That’s why you have always been a dreamer who wants to achieve success and, above all, to know true love, but that is something that only happens on TV. It seems life had other plans for youm and the only thing left is to work hard and try to move on with a smile.

Traits: Good, foodie, music lover.

Aspiration: 1) Master Mixologist 2) Soulmate

Skills: Mixology, DJ mixing, cooking and baking.

Job: Culinary career (Mixologist Branch)

Rules:

Since you'reunderage, move into a shelter or an orphanage.

Once you become a teen, dropout of high school and earn money through odd jobs and buy a dj mixing station. Only then you can start working in secret as a freelance dj in local clubs and bars:

To do so, create an alternative persona or character your sim must disguise as whenever they're on a show.

Save all the money you earn through tips.

Don't gain fame.

Once your sim becomes a young adult, join the culinary career and help out at the shelter/orphanage until you have enough money to move out on your own, but keep presenting as a dj each night.

Buy and move to the starter home the founder fixed.

Present yourself regularly at the bar your founder worked at as a dancer, and also work as a hired mixologist some nights. You'll earn $300 per night.

If you have mods that adjust to this, feel free to use them!

Have 10 failed relationships throughout your Young Adult lifestage. Give up on finding love after your last relationship.

The relationships will only count if you get to become boyfriends or more and get to break up, divorce, cancel engagements or separate through other circumstances.

Once you become an Adult, fall madly in love with a sim you meet in one of your work nights. This sim:

Must be an elder.

Must be visiting the lot you're at for the first time.

Must be super rich.

Start a sugar-ish relationship with your love interest. Have them gift your sim money ($1,000 simoleons) everytime they see each other. You decide if they keep, donate or sell the gifts.

Break up with the love interest, but get back shortly after and get into a serious relationship.

Only then, start working on the soulmate aspiration with this sim.

Move in with the elder sim only when you have a full romance bar.

If the elder sim has family, make them disapprove of your relationship together.

Wait a minute… isn't the story kind of repeating itself?

You decide what happens next ;)

#the sims 4 #ts4 #ts4 challenge #ts4 legacy challenge #myheartisyourslegacy #natolesims #dustbon

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