step operation

regularghostly  asked:

Okay I know the popular scenario is "embarrassed mutual pining" (and trust me I love that) but what about this: soon after lance realizes his feelings for Keith he just fully embraces them and starts flirting with Keith almost 24/7 the way he does with random alien chick only more specific/flattering? And Keith's like "what did my gay ass do to deserve this" not knowing Lance is actually fully serious. Then Lance finally stops playing games and just asks him out and Keith's like U WERE SERIOUS?


The time Lance realized that he was undeniably attracted to boys was directly correlated to Keith. It was weird because he could have sworn that he didn’t like Keith - that dense, unwillingly condescending and hotheaded idiot - until. Well. Until they were out after a mission mingling with the locals and Keith was just standing there, a drink in his hand, smiling softly while he talked to a young alien girl. 

It was a huge thing. Lance’s breath caught, his heart skipped a beat and all the blood in his body rushed to his cheeks. Keith hadn’t even done anything special, he really just stood there, a soft and attentive look on his stupidly perfect face while the sun drew patterns on his mullet. It should have been an everyday thing except it wasn’t because Lance really could count on one hand all the incidences where he wouldn’t have changed a thing about Keith (including his awful hairstyle).

So back then Lance did the most sensible thing he could have done: down his drink, cough like mad because wrong pipe and hightail the quiznak out of this situation before it could go completely wrong.

Also, a private freakout that lasted for like five minutes. And maybe some stress eating and extra face care but honestly, that wasn’t a bad thing. He was a paladin of Voltron, they were fighting pretty much 24/7, he was allowed to eat more of Hunk’s cookies if he wanted to. And his face certainly wouldn’t complain about testing out new products to help it stay smooth and soft.

Honestly, Lance thought he had handled it pretty well. No excessive drama and no insults hurled Keith’s way. He’d like to think that he matured through his time as a defender of the universe and could now totally deal with being attracted to boys and Keith. No problemo for Loverboy Lance. 

Except, of course, it was Keith. How did one woo Keith? He was pretty sure that Keith was gay, that wasn’t the problem, the problem was that Keith was dense as quiznak. 

Luckily, the response had been right in front of his eyes: Keith might have been dense but Keith has also spent nearly 2 years with him in space and knew what Lance’s flirting looked like. It was ideal, he just had to act like he always did, not even Keith could be stupid enough to misunderstand that. 

So when the opportunity arose, Lance didn’t hesitate to take it.

Keep reading


Had a super busy few weeks n spent today mostly working on owed art, so I gave myself a treat and busted out a bit of concept work I’ve had in my head for a while! More to come later, for sure–I have a lot of ideas for the how’s and why’s of these designs that I wanna address, as well as flesh out the setting.

I’ve been thinking about zombie-ish creatures created by infection from a type of mermithidae or nematomorpha worm (watch this vid ONLY IF U AIN’T SQUEAMISH) that specializes in humans. While the initial infection only seems to be discomfort from drinking contaminated water, when the worm devours/replaces ~50% of the victim’s guts it reaches sexual maturity and starts releasing control chemicals that radically alter host behavior and physical form, etc etc (for the fantasy human version, at least–the actual buggy predators are a little simpler). Since humans have a lower species turnover rate than bugs these particular worms can act as replacement organs and keep their hosts alive indefinitely…but will violently egress the body if it’s overly damaged, instantly killing the infected person. 

Infected are typically placid (when left alone) and like to float in large bodies of fresh water. They become aggressive when approached by large animals, including humans, partially from their intense hunger due to parasitization.

Scientists discovered it’s possible to save the infected in a two-step operation that surgically fuses the worm to muscle walls (preventing it from killing the host by vacating) and neuters the parasite, which stops production of control chemicals. After a few months of physical and mental therapy the infected can safely re-enter society. Post-apocalyptic humanity is desperate for all the helping hands it can get and usually welcomes them back, with post-surgery infected making up about 40% of any given settlement.

Operation Happy Jeff™ - Jeff Atkins x Reader

Request - “Can I request an angsty/cute Jeff x Reader where he’s having a relly really crappy day and nothing seems to cheer him up so they do all these cute things to make him feel better. Can you also add the promt “There’s that smile” to it?”

A/N: Beware the grumpy Jeff. Sulky and adorable.

The room was so dimly lit that you were struggling to see. In fact, it took you a good few minutes to make out Jeff’s cocooned figure in the corner. You sighed. You knew something was up. He’d been acting strange over text and refused to let you call him when you asked. So, you did what any good friend would do and risked a speeding ticket driving over to his place as soon as you could. You did what any best friend helplessly in love would do.

The first step in what you were now calling; ‘Operation Happy Jeff™’, was to get some sunlight in. Jeff still hadn’t acknowledged your presence, but you swaggered over to the windows and violently pulled the curtains nevertheless.

“Ow fuck!” He squinted. “Y/N, what the fuck are you doing here?” He remained curled in the corner shielding his eyes.

“I’m taking you to Disney-world.” You crossed your arms earnestly.

“Fuck off are you taking me to Disney-world.”

“Well, no. You know my monthly income wouldn’t even cover a day trip for one person, but that’s not the point! It’s metaphorical. The point is that by the end of the day you are going to be so ecstatic that you’ll feel like you’re in Disney-world.”

“I don’t think that’s-”

“Come on! Get up!” You yanked up the complaining Jeff and coaxed him downstairs.

“Your piece of shit car couldn’t get us to Disney-world anyway.” He muttered under his breath. You hit him round the head.

“Talk shit about Herman again and i’ll leave.” You crossed your arms, watching as he sat at the kitchen counter. Despite his protests, he didn’t really want his best friend to leave, he was grateful when you’d turned up.

“I’m not going to make you talk to me about it until you’re ready.” Your tone had softened now. Step two of  ‘Operation Happy Jeff™’  was now ready to be set in motion. Wildlife Watching.


“No. No?” He protested after you’d told him the plan.

“Why not. It’s a great way to relax and the sun will release your endorphins.” You stomped out into Jeff’s garden, him dragging his heels behind you.

He rolled his eyes. “But it’s so boring!”

“That’s what a boring person would say.”

“We’re not going to see anything from my garden anyway.”

Half an hour later, you’d seen a few birds, and a worm- but Jeff was still not impressed. ‘Did you know the brown stuff in their bodies is their poop?’ he’d said with disgust. Time for Step Three you guessed.


“How is giving you a piggy back meant to make me feel better again?” Jeff grumbled, walking you around his coffee table.

“You’re helping others!”

“But you can walk.”


“No way-”

“GALLOP.” You pulled at his t shirt slightly as though it were reins.

He gritted his teeth and galloped lacklustredly round the table, warranting a loud cackle from you.

He put you down and turned to you. “You’re just making me feel like an idiot.”

“My favourite idiot.” You placed a hand on his cheek and wobbled it slightly. He rolled his eyes again.

“Look, Y/N, it’s pointless. You might as well give up now.” He threw your hand off of him.

“I’m not giving up on you Jeff.” Your eyes bore into his, more serious now.

“I wish you wouldn’t say crap like that.” He slumped on to the couch.

“Why? You know how much I care about you and how I hate seeing you like this?”

He shook his head, trying to prevent himself from saying something stupid. Sensing his discomfort, you flopped down on the couch next to him. Step Four.

“Guess it’s time to watch Mulan then.”

Mulan was Jeff’s favourite, he could never not sing along, and the funny bits sent him into fits of laughter. Not this time, though. You were growing more and more concerned the more stuff you tried that would usually cheer him straight up. Nothing was working. You stopped the film halfway through, it was useless.

‘Operation Happy Jeff™’  Step Five really had to pull it out of the bag. Making Cookies.


“Now, is the butter at room temperature?” You asked, mindlessly playing with the whisk.

“Uh, I don’t have a temperature stick thing…you know the…”

“Thermometer? You don’t need one, silly.” You chuckled. “Just tell me if it looks kind of soft.”

“Yeah, I guess.” Jeff shrugged, handing you the tub of butter. He didn’t seem much happier, but he’d definitely put his focus into baking these cookies.

“Measure 125g on the scales.”

He scrunched his face up watching the numbers on the scales, causing your heart to lurch and uncontrollably smile. He was too cute.

“Okay.” He nodded, handing you the bowl. You poured the butter into the sugar.

“Hold the whisk at the top here.” You pointed to the spot above your own hand. “We’re whisking this bitch together.”

You thought you may have caught him in a small smile, but it was so fleeting you weren’t sure.

The whisk buzzed on and you and Jeff moved your hands together in circles, making sure the butter and sugar were creamed. Jeff was so close you could smell him, in all his minty-vanilla glory, and his big hand overlapped yours slightly. You added the eggs and vanilla with your spare hand, and continued to swirl the mixture. Jeff readjusted his grip, brushing your hand slightly.

“That’s done.” You stated, realising that had been a bad idea. “I’ll measure the flour, you can do the chocolate chips.”

He nodded, moving to the other counter to do the chocolate chips.

You poured the flour into the bowl. “Jeff?”


“Do you want to whisk it while i grease the trays?”

“Uh, yeah.” He nodded again.

It all happened pretty quick. The whisk was on full blast and you’d forgotten to tell Jeff to fold the flour in first, and he ended up spraying flour all over the room. All over himself. All over you.

“Oh my god!” You squealed, laughing. Jeff looked shell-shocked. You lobbed the lump of butter in your hand at him, hitting him in the nose.

“Fuck off.” He growled, wiping the butter from his face and lobbing it back at you. Your mouth fell open as the cool substance hit your neck. You shook your head in disbelief, immersing your hand in the bag of flour before running toward him and coating him in another handful. He blew through his mouth, creating a flour cloud, which hit you in the face. And, seeing you coated in flour and grinning at him, his mouth twisted up into a gorgeous beam, his teeth standing out white even against the flour.

“There’s that smile.” You bit through a grin. He looked down at you warmly.

“You did it, you cracked me.” You were so close that his voice was soft and quiet, but still audible. “It should be illegal for you to look so cute covered in flour.”

You scoffed. “I can’t believe Mulan didn’t work but throwing flour at me did.”

“It wasn’t just the flour, really. It was the whole day. I know I complained but I can’t believe you really did all this for me.” He shrugged.

“You know I would do anything for you, Jeff.” You urged.

“That’s part of the problem.” He backed away and leaned against the kitchen counter, wiping his hand down his face. The smile had gone.

“What? I’m sorry I’m… confused.”

“Well part of the reason I’ve been in such a funk today was that for some reason my baseball game was completely off, I really could not play. Realising why was the other reason.” He sighed.

“Why?” You edged closer to him.

“It’s been ever since I saw you and Zach yesterday, I can’t get it out of my head.” Admitted Jeff.

“What do you mean?”

“I couldn’t stand the thought of my best mate with the girl I love.”

You froze. What? What? Were you hearing this correctly?

“Fuck.” He muttered, kicking the counter.

“Jeff I really don’t-”

“I’m gonna regret this.” He inhaled, swiftly moving over to you and cupping your face in his hands. Dry, floury lips were pressed to yours in an instant, shocking you. It took a few beats to register that this was actually Jeff, and press your hands against his warm chest. His heartbeat was fast against your hands, and his own hands warming your cheeks. The way flour met your tongue was kind of gross, but you couldn’t care in the slightest. His right hand moved to your waist, pulling you flush against him. His mouth opened hungrily providing room for your tongue, but instead you bit down on his bottom lip sensually.

He breathed what resembled fuck, and you smiled into his mouth.

“I concur.” You whispered, breaking off and resting your forehead against his. Both of you were breathing roughly and heavily, holding on to the other for stability.

“I guess this is better than Disney-world.”


The morning found Jeff’s arm slung over you, and the success of ‘Operation Happy Jeff™’ .

A Hundred Lesser Faces: Twelve

  • Section One {A Hundred Lesser Faces} what if Voyager!Claire had gone first to Lallybroch instead of directly to the print shop in Edinburgh? :  [(One) (Two) (Three) (Four) (Five) (Six) (Seven)
  • Section Two {A Hundred More}, the aftermath of Claire and Jamie’s reunion, following their journey as they work to build a new life together [(Eight) (Nine) (Ten) (Eleven) ]

“There ye are, Sassenach,” Jamie boomed, pushing off from the wall against which he’d been leaning and adjusting a new black tricorn and cloak smartly. “Took ye long enough! What kept ye?” 

I bristled a bit, snorting. I’d risen promptly enough, I thought, when Fiona knocked at the door and gave me Jamie’s message, a feat of which I’d been rather proud, given the utter rock-like state from which I’d had to rouse.

“May I ask WHY you felt it necessary to have me meet you out here?” I asked, quite politely. He gave me a mild look in return. “Four blocks away? Outdoors? Before noon? In November?”

“Och, that’s simple,” he said at once, with a cheeriness that suggested it should be perfectly obvious to anyone in possession of wits (God, how I’d missed this man and all his nonsense). “I should have thought the events of the past day had made it clear enough that we’ve absolutely no chance, you and I, of having any sort of logistical conversation in that room.”

Crankiness vanished, I now suppressed a sheepish grin. “I do think you enjoyed that day and that room, though?”

Supremely,” he said, his fine teeth flashing devilishly. “And if we didna have onlookers at present, I’d invite ye against yon wall to show ye just how much.”

We’d glutted ourselves in every way it was feasible to glut. At Jamie’s direction, Fiona’s kitchenmaids had kept the wine and food and whisky coming, all making the last twenty-four-or-more hours little more than a hedonistic blur, punctuated by wild, luxurious lovemaking that even now had my legs wobbly and loose; a blur from which I would have been more than happy never to refocus.

“Still,” Jamie went on, “casting aside the appealing prospect of rumpling your petticoats on this fine morn, might I alternately earn forgiveness by saying I’ve brought breakfast?”

“It’s a jolly good first step,” I said, stepping close and letting him see the laughter in my eyes before kissing his chilly lips. 

He’d brought mulled wine and savory pies, both still piping hot, leaving me the high ground to scold him for giving me hell about alleged lateness, which I did, all chastisement met only, of course, by grins and kisses, damn his wonderful hide.

We sat on a bench by the river and devoured our little feast, watching the boats and waterfowl inching their way around the choppy expanse. As loathe as I had been to drag myself out of bed, put on clothing and venture into the chill, I had to admit, there was something singularly wonderful about being out in the crisp grey of mid-morning, the cold bracing and clearing to the senses. 

“So,” I said at last, those cleared senses steeling themselves against the necessary topics. “Logistical conversation time, mm?”

“Aye,” he said with decision (and perhaps that same frisson of dread), taking one last swig from the wine jug. 

Laoghaire, I suppose, should—”

He took my hand, cutting me off. “Perhaps even before that…”

“Oh? Seems to me that’s—she’s, I mean, the most significant hurdle in our path, don’t you?”

“No—I mean yes, aye, she is. Still…” He squeezed my fingers and looked out to the river, weighing his words carefully. “I think perhaps we ought first to decide what it is we’re striving toward.”

Well! That was a rather grandiose way of putting it, and I said as much. 

“I only mean,” he clarified, letting go my hand and turning toward me on the seat,  “what is it that ye want?”

“Isn’t that obvious?” I said, assuming his own earlier sweet smugness. “I want you.”

“I want ye, too.” He leaned in and kissed me with a happy hum. “Always. Though, I am being serious, Sassenach. It will make things clearer if we can say aloud what it is we envision for these years ahead, as many as are granted to us, so that naught is lost by dint of assumption.”

“Well, then… I want to be your wife,” I said, a little lamely. Then I rallied, and began to think it through more clearly. “No—I want us to be man and wife with no ambiguity as to other spouses.”

“Aye. Agreed.”

“I want…” I went on slowly, thinking, “for each of us to pursue occupations that give us pleasure.” I cast a glance at him. “Does printing do that for you, by the way? Do you actually enjoy it?”

“Do ye ken…” He scratched his jaw meditatively. “I dinna think anyone has ever asked me such a thing, in reference to printing or anything else.” 

“Well, I come from a very individualistic time, my dear. Can’t help but carry it over.” 

“Aye, you’re a verra peculiar woman, Sassenach. But, aye, the printing trade is methodical and needful, and I’ve got the tools already acquired, so I see no reason to learn a new one.” 

“Not exactly what I asked,” I laughed, “but I suppose that’s as close as you’ll come to self-actualization. So: you, able to print; me, able to practice medicine. Simple enough, as long as we stick to a city. But, speaking of assuming, I’d more or less taken it for granted that we would both go to Edinburgh, to your shop. I’m certain I can find my way as a healer, there, even if it means starting very small. Are you thinking otherwise?”

“Maybe so,” he admitted, brows drawn in thought, going quiet for a few moments too long. 

“Tell me what you want, Jamie.”

“Everything you yourself said,” he said quickly. “The only thing more I would wish, in terms of specifics, is … to live under my own name. Our name.”

“Not as Alexander Malcolm,” I said, understanding beginning to spark.

“I didna care a mite when it was only me, ken. I wanted a life on my own, or rather, a life away from Laoghaire, and if an assumed name was the requirement, then so be it. But now, wi’ you returned, back in my life and my arms for good, the thought of living out my years as Sawny Malcolm…still worse to oblige you to assume the role of Mrs. Malcolm—”

“I should scarcely mind, Jamie,” I said at once. “I hope you know that.”

“And I thank ye for it,” he said, with a genuine, albeit strained smile, “yet now I’ve pride and joy in my heart that I hadn’t before, and not to be able to spend the rest of my days under my own name, that of my own family…?” He trailed off, shaking his head and setting his jaw. 

I certainly could understand his point and his unease. Had it not rankled me, from time to time, when I allowed myself to think of such things, to be living out my own days as Claire Randall?  The constant itch of feeling that it was naught but a sham identity, neither who I was born nor who I would have chosen to be? 

“Would your clientele desert you, do you think, if you came clean and began going by James Fraser in Edinburgh?”

“A good many. Though, perhaps not all, only—Well, Laoghaire would be the greatest danger in that regard, as well.” 

“Oh? How so? Would she come to your shop and set it ablaze?” 

For, if I knew anything of Laoghaire Fraser née MacKenzie, it was that she was dangerous when the ‘woman scorned.’

“Not that I’d put it past her,” he said with an unhappy smirk, “but should all the legal proceedings run afoul and scandal spread over it, the news will be known in Edinburgh eventually. To be kent for the one-time traitor Red Jamie might just bring a certain profitable notoriety (particularly to those many that supported Charles and his cause), but to be whispered about as a recent bigamist scoundrel… It—wouldna be good.”

“No….No, I suppose not.” I scratched my nose, thinking. 

“Then there’s the smuggling to consider,” he said gamely, though his eyes went a little shifty with discomfort. 

He’d told me about his other business ventures offhand sometime in the last day. I’d been very drunk at the time and had found the entire prospect hilarious for some reason. By the light of day, though, it was certainly far more sobering. 

“In that enterprise, at least, I am already known as Jamie Roy, not Mr. Malcolm. I mean to step out of that operation altogether,” he said suddenly, looking sharply at me, “but it may take some time to do so, find a buyer I hope, wi’out bringing my government protectors down upon me. They’ll no’ take kindly to the loss of their take, aye?”

 I nodded. “Then…once you’ve removed yourself from the smuggling business in some form, we relocate and start fresh? In Glasgow, perhaps? Even here in Inverness? This place is big enough to need printing services, surely?”

“Aye, certainly,” he said, his gaze casting appreciatively around the expanse of Inverness, “and perhaps, it shall come to all that; though I think only in the colonies might we truly begin anew, wi’out the whispers following us.”

My throat constricted. “You want to emigrate?”

“It’s the last thing I wish,” he said fervently, lacing his fingers in mine. “I never wish to leave Scotland. Still, I willna have ye tormented by gossip and scandal for my sake.”

“It’s hardly your sake, as I’m the bloody reason there’s to be scandal in the first place!”

Despite himself, he laughed. I seized the opportunity and squeezed his hand tighter. “Jamie, it doesn’t matter if we’re the Malcolms in Edinburgh or the Frasers in Glasgow or Mr. and Mrs. Von Trapp in a Hobbithole in Norway!”

“In a what-hole?”

“The point is,” I went doggedly on, “as long as I can publicly call you my husband, and as long as I can be a healer, I will be happy. That’s all I need. As to the where and the by-what-means… lead on, my love. I’ll be there.”

His hand, big and warm and solid, came up to gently hold my nape as he kissed me. 

“Oh, no, wait, forgot one,” I said abruptly as we pulled back, counting my wishlist out on my fingers. “Husband-calling. Healer. Not being burned as witch for it.” 

“I think that’s more than reasonable,” he said fairly, a twinkle in his eye. “Speaking of which…Laoghaire.”

“Better add a fourth: a day when we never have to speak that name again.” We shared commiserating sighs. “Will you be seeking an annulment, then?”

“Aye, that or some sort of divorce settlement, if such can be managed. I dinna wish to cause her shame, but I willna conscience the possibility of having her as my wife in any form to be going on with.”

“Glad to hear it.”

“If you agree, I shall write to Ned Gowan today.”

“NED!?” I shouted in delight, startling two stately gentlemen passing by. “Don’t tell me he’s still alive?!”

“He is, and still practicing the law, forbye, in Edinburgh. I’ve encountered him several times over the years, passing in the streets. He’s quite the spry wee thing. Shriveled as dried beef but sharp as a knifepoint, still.” 

“Well, I’ll be damned!”

“Well, I hope ye won’t be, nor I.  In any case, I should like to write to Ned and ask if he might travel to Broch Morda at once upon receipt of the letter, to assist in settling the matter.”

“At once?” My glowing heart fell into my boots. “Does that mean we’ll be going back to Lallybroch? Directly?”

“Believe me when I say that a part of me wishes nothing more than to stay here at the inn forever.” 

“Three guesses which part.”

“But I also ken,” he went on, passing over my lewdness, which sadly did not have the desired impact of distraction, “that I willna be able to sleep easy until this is all put to rest. I dinna wish to be seen as sneaking about wi’ ye. Besides,” he said, raising a hand and tucking a strand of curls behind my ear, running the backs of his knuckles gently over my brow and temple, “every day spent curled up in our wee nesting place, here, unspeakably happy as I would be every moment, there should always be the nagging in the corners of my mind, reminding me that I’m only on borrowed time ‘til all is resolved for good. ….What do ye think?”

I sighed. “I think you’re likely right about that.” I rested my head on his shoulder. “It doesn’t make the prospect of leaving said love nest any more pleasant, though.”

“Indeed, it does not. Still,” He tilted my chin up with a finger and kissed me, his mouth warm and comforting and tasting of sweet wine, “we’ll make it a pleasant journey.” Another kiss. “And ye willna convince me to give up our warm bed for the road until tomorrow morn, at least.”

“Well then,” I said meaningfully with a raised eyebrow, “we’ll have to make the most of that warm bed between now and then, won’t we?”

Laundry Day

Author: Mikala

Characters: Pietro Maximoff x Reader, (also, Sam WIlson makes a brief appearance, so there’s that)

Words: 2,650

Warnings: Smut between Pietro and the reader. Unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it, my dudes). Swearing. 

Author’s Note: I came up with this idea, and @bovaria picked the character. And then I found this picture, so it must have been meant to be. JUST LOOK AT HIM UGH. Anyway, enjoy!

Your night started out with laundry and a string of heavily-accented foreign words being yelled loudly from down the hallway, and even to your untrained ears, they sounded like expletives. You were taking your dirty clothes down to the laundry room in the tower, and before you hit the door, you could already tell that it was Pietro who was shouting. With one hand holding your laundry basket against your hip, you pushed through the door slowly, assessing the situation. Pietro stood in front of one of the various washing machines, a scowl set across his face.

“Hey, Piet. What’s going on?” You asked, cautiously walking closer to him. You set your basket on the floor in front of an empty washing machine next to him, then turned to look at the one he was facing.

“Stark and his damn technology,” Pietro muttered to you, his accent thicker than normal. You’d come to learn that that happened when he was angry. “I cannot get it to work,” he snapped, glaring daggers at the “error” message that blinked on the screen above the appliance. Tony had taken it upon himself to upgrade nearly every electronic and household appliance in the tower, and while some of you were adapting quickly, others were having a great deal of trouble. Pietro seemed to be one of the latter. He was constantly getting into arguments with inanimate objects (some of which could talk back to him—oh, the wonders of artificial intelligence) and he’d already broken several things, much to Tony’s dismay.

Keep reading


Originally posted by cutiepatoodie

  • Get ready for some Neurosurgeon Jihoon
  • voted number one hardass by the interns, they all pray they don’t get him, they all would sell their souls to not get Jihoon has their attending surgeon
  • makes at least one resident or intern cry every day
  • he’s small but he’s terrifying
  • although terrifying, was voted best neurosurgeon in the hospital, unlike Seungcheol’s poll this one was valid and Jihoon has the article to prove it
  • has soft music playing when he’s in surgery
  • under a lot of stress all the time, even when he doesn’t need to be
  • doesn’t know what vacation or break time means
  • gets roped every year into being an elf for Santa Seungcheol
  • striving to be head of neurosurgeon which everyone believes he will get anyways
  • didn’t sleep for 2 days and was found talking to the coffee vending machine
  • “Jihoon maybe you should take a rest in the on call room”
  • cue maniac laughter and everyone in the hallway freezing because it’s the scariest sound they’ve ever heard
  • gives his interns a hard time, not because he doesn’t like them, but because he believes they need to learn how hard the job is and that not everyone is going to be saved
  • forces interns to practice stitching on an orange, and they must be able to complete 10 perfectly stitched oranges before they can step in an operating room with him
  • can often be found bickering with Seungcheol about something he’s doing
  • on his break, he was coded a code red in the pediatric unit (he recently had a patient discharged to that unit for recovery), and he was RUNNING
  • when he got there, all he got was this smiley Seungcheol with ten kids and a little girl in the middle crying
  • turns out the little girl’s stuffed puppy got ripped up and Seungcheol knew a very good surgeon in the hospital
  • Jihoon is grumbling because now he’s spending his break ‘giving surgery’ to a stuffed dog, he does give a small smile in the end with the little girl hugs Jihoon for saving her dog
  • Seungcheol saw the smile but decided against to give him shit about it (he did it in the break room later)
  • Known as the ‘single for life” guy because he’s always working
  • as much of a hardass he can be on the interns, he does that thing where he gives words of wisdom
  • cue Jeonghan laughing in the background like “stop trying to make yourself look cool”
  • “I’M NOT”
  • In the building, you’re a grief counselor, much to Jihoon’s distaste
  • your job requires you to not only deal with patients who experience a loss, but you’re also required to work with several doctors who have lost their patients as well as evaluate their emotional state
  • in all your years of working, you’ve never got the chance to talk to Jihoon, in all honesty, he avoids you like the plague
  • not because he doesn’t like you, noo, he finds you beautiful, but he also thinks, why should he waste time spewing his feelings or what not when he can be working
  • you finally decide that this year would be the year that you talk to Jihoon and evaluate him properly for the records
  • but every time you see him in the hallway, he always turns around and walks in the opposite direction
  • it isn’t until one day you catch him in the elevator, “Jihoon! Wonderful, I think we should sit down and talk about past grievances as well as present ones. You know the board directors require this of my job.”
  • For a job dealing with death and loss, Jihoon finds your personality a bit too chipper for him
  • “No.” That’s all he says before he leaves the elevator
  • “Come by my office at 1:30, if you don’t, I’ll make sure the hospital knows of your unstable health. You’ll be on leave for 2-3 weeks if I send that report!”
  • 1:30 comes around and just as you’re about to fill out a non-compliant report, Jihoon walks in with a scowl
  • Once again, Jihoon believes your attitude is too chipper for your job and the thirty minutes of your personality is wearing him out
  • “One last question, are you in a relationship”
  • “No.”
  • “Relationships are a vital signs of moving on, do you think your various losses are reasons for your struggles with relationships.”
  • “No. We’re done now.”
  • Jihoon just ups and leaves and as astonished as you are about his actions, you kind of grin as he leaves because well he’s kind of cute
  • You don’t really leave him alone after that, often walking with him as he looks over his charts, talking to him, getting him coffee, you two even ride home together or get food together in the cafeteria
  • Without him knowing, you’ve suddenly become his girlfriend and the whole hospital is whispering about it
  • “how did jihoon get a girlfriend before me, this isn’t fair”
  • “shhh he’s coming”
  • Finally ask Jeonghan why everyone is looking at him weird and always whispering
  • “It’s because the single for life Jihoon is suddenly not so single anymore. When did you and Y/N start dating.”
  • “What.”
  • And it just kind of dawns on him that you two spend a lot more time together, and he really doesn’t mind getting off of work anymore because he always finds you waiting outside for him after his shifts
  • The title boyfriend and girlfriend just becomes this natural thing between you two that doesn’t really need verbal agreement, it just happened.
  • Jihoon smiles a lot more now and it’s creeping the interns out
  • Once ran into you while giving rounds with the interns, and everyone saw how sweet and nice he talked to you, and he smiled really big, and he did a small whine when you didn’t kiss him and now the interns have to wash their eyes with bleach
  • The interns now use you as a shield, like intern Chan who was on the verge of being scolded by Jihoon, ran into your room and when Jihoon came in after, he just couldn’t yell so he glares at Chan before leaving and Chan just hides in your room for most of the day
  • You get used to interns hiding in your room
  • “Hey Jihoon can you cover my shift this weekend”
  • “No Y/N and I are going on a short trip”
  • Everyone does a big gasp and it falls silent
  • Jihoon always just melts when he sees you in the hallway, like his stomach fills with butterflies and his heart is just throbbing really bad
  • Now that you’re his girlfriend, grief counselor Joshua has to step in and evaluate Jihoon, you really have to force Jihoon into the room for him to do it
  • Got really jealous in the beginning of your relationship, he barged into a patients room while you were working like
  • “Why are you always with Joshua”
  • “I’m with a patient right now Jihoon”
  • “Does Joshua like you, you need to tell him to stop clinging around you.”
  • You have this smirk on your face, “Why? Because I’m yours?”
  • Jihoon’s really red now and the patient is all into this because wow it’s like a kdrama and Jihoon lets out a meek “yes”
  • “Joshua is a grief counselor also, Jihoon. Just like how you work with other neurosurgeons, I work with other grief counselors. But it’s cute seeing you flustered and call me yours.”
  • All in all, small neurosurgeon Jihoon is a flustered little boy head over heels for you that it scares the interns and everyone. He loves his breaks and days off that he can spend with you, and he’s always caught waiting for you like a puppy and it’s adorable.
Surrounded by you | Thiam Week Day 6

Clothes sharing

It’s not like they want to share clothes, it just happens, okay?

Liam was stressed. The combination of tests at school, lacrosse practice and the championship looming on the horizon and the fact that a part of the pack (including Theo and Scott) was out of town and taking care of a few hunters, was really getting to him. It wasn’t that he was losing control, thanks to Theo and hard work on that he got better at control in stressful situations, but he was tense, his nerves were raw. Always fidgeting and pacing, not really able to sit still except for when he was taking part in the tests at school. Even then his thoughts were racing and he was unruly.

Keep reading

On Inauguration Day, President Trump stood in front of the U.S. Capitol and vowed that his “America First” agenda would bring jobs back to the United States.

Looking on from the front of the stage was Trump’s daughter Ivanka, the celebrity and fashion entrepreneur who would soon join him in the White House.

Ivanka Trump and her husband, Jared Kushner, listen onstage at the Lincoln Memorial during a pre-inaugural concert in Washington on Jan. 19. (Jabin Botsford/The Washington Post) 

While President Trump has chastised companies for outsourcing jobs overseas, an examination by The Washington Post has revealed the extent to which Ivanka Trump’s company relies exclusively on foreign factories where low-wage laborers have limited ability to advocate for themselves.

The Post used data drawn from U.S. customs logs and international shipping records to trace Trump-branded products from far-flung factories to ports around the United States. The Post also interviewed workers at three garment factories that have made Trump products who said their jobs often come with exhausting hours, subsistence pay and insults from supervisors if they don’t work fast enough.

Among the current items in Ivanka Trump’s line are, clockwise from top left, a blouse made in China, a suit jacket made in Vietnam, a dress made in Indonesia and a denim jacket made in Bangladesh. (Photos by Matt McClain/The Washington Post)

“My monthly salary is not enough for everyday expenses, also not for the future,” said a 26-year-old sewing operator in Subang, Indonesia, who said she has helped make Trump dresses.

Trump, who now works full time in the White House, has stepped away from daily operations of her business. She has assumed a high-profile place on the world stage — a role that was on display last weekend when she briefly filled in for her father during a meeting with foreign leaders, seated between the president of China and the British prime minister.

Read the rest of the story: Ivanka Inc. 


Originally posted by sneezes

  • 1/3 of the intern bunch
  • intern Hansol is very odd, often in his own world, often caught in an odd situation
  • got his skateboard confiscated by Jihoon during the first week he was interning but it’s okay cause he’s got heeles
  • really doesn’t know what he wants to do or specialize in, he’s hoping the whole rounds and getting a taste in every department helps his decision
  • “idk why can’t I just be an everything doctor”
  • “Hansol no”
  • published a paper regarding pediatrics with Seungcheol because he won a rap battle
  • often hanging out with intern Seungkwan
  • says he got his way through med school by making raps of the body systems
  • rapped the anatomy of the body at the hospital talent show and did a Mic drop at the end
  • Much to Jihoon’s dismay, Hansol is actually a really good surgeon and is secretly vouching for him to choose surgery
  • got lost during the first week and somehow ended up in the morgue
  • is really really into his pager like he thinks it’s the coolest thing in the world
  • “it means I’m hungry, let’s eat”
  • makes up a lot of different codes (but obviously stays away from code red or blue cause that’s a no no)
  • chills with patients in their rooms when he has night shifts
  • found with his hand up a coffee vending machine because he was not going to put another dollar in
  • everyone leaves him there for the day
  • as air headed he may seem, he’s really knowledgeable
  • always knows the toughest of diagnosis because he knows random information
  • gets really shy with new patients which makes it seem like he doesn’t know what he’s doing but he’s just nervous around new people
  • he was the first one out of all the interns to finish stitching 10 oranges and is the first to step into an operating room
  • will switch Jihoon’s soft music to rap music and Jihoon can’t do anything because his hand is touching a human brain and
  • one day he got to substitute in for the person who speaks on the overhead speaker
  • made up nicknames for everyone
  • “Doctor S.Coups you’re needed in the pediatric unit”
  • “Doctor Woozi please head over to operating room 2”
  • “if someone finds a skateboard lying around somewhere I think I misplaced it, actually it might be in operating room 5”
  • beatboxes into the mic before getting kicked out by Jeonghan
  • once made the nurse station made so they all stuck him with bedpan changes for a week
  • you work at the newly opened cafe in the hospital
  • you see Hansol and Seungkwan a lot because they’re always hanging around when they’re on break
  • you became friends with Hansol during the time he had his hand up the vending machine
  • the vending machine was next to the cafe (really bad placement like who puts a coffee vending machine next to a cafe)
  • you were working the cash register and you just keep staring at the boy who’s hand is lodged up the mouth of the machine
  • “why is your hand up a vending machine”
  • “do you need help”
  • “nah I got a friend coming”
  • that friend was Seungkwan who was a scaredy cat to leave rounds especially since Jihoon was doing rounds
  • After a while you and Hansol strike up a conversation when customers aren’t holding up the line
  • You snort and laugh really loudly because his reaction was really cute and naive and now the tips of Hansol’s ears turn red because damn your laugh is hella cute
  • another hour passes with light conversation and you say it’s nearing the end of your shift and although you can’t hear it Hansol is whining a small no
  • Seungkwan finally comes back with a janitor who helps gets his hand out of the machine
  • Hansol jumps to his feet and hurries to the cash register where you are and his cheeks tint a lil red ‘omg cuter up close”
  • Seungkwan is squinting his eyes with a lot of suspicion because why are these two silent and why are they red faced HANSOL HAS A CRUSH
  • hansol has a crush on the girl who works at the coffee shop”
  • “hansol has a crush”
  • “hansol likes the girl—”
  • you get what I mean
  • Hansol starts to spend wayy too much time at the cafe like so much that you’re able to quote the paper he’s writing on the effects of the absence of the corpus collosum
  • this goes on for weeks and Seungkwan is getting really bored of the whole back and forth not wanting to confess because “it’ll ruin the friendship”
  • 22 hours with no sleep he’s watching Hansol stare at you
  • the cafe becomes really quiet. you and hansol are just deep red in embarrassment while Seungkwan passes out on the table
  • but thanks to sleep deprived Seungkwan, 5 coffee dates later
  • “y/n and I are dating”
  • sassy seungkwan “took you long enough”
  • seungkwan claims he doesn’t remember that day but whatever Hansol has a girlfriend now
  • actually learned the cafe menu by rapping it and teaches you the rap
  • also teaches you to skateboard in the hospital and you bribe Jihoon with free coffee so Hansol doesn’t get in trouble
  • at the end of your shifts, Hansol is usually still working so you bring him coffee with a  side of kiss on the cheek and Seungkwan barfs on the side
  • snuck back to the overhead speaker mic and rapped a cheesy verse about you which made you smile the whole day
  • you actually write little notes on the coffee cups and it brightens his whole day
  • on the rare times that his shifts ends before yours, he just sits and waits in the cafe and you two always leave with hands held together and third wheel seungkwan watching from behind
  • he still hasn’t chosen a specific field to study more on but he’s more than certain that he always wants you by his side with whatever he chooses
  • intern Hansol again is still uncertain about his career choices but he’s always certain that the smile on your face, the warm coffee cup in his hand, and the press of your lips against his cheek is something that he wants for futures to come
Negan x Reader

Summary: The reader dies while giving birth to Negans child and Negan has to deal with the overwhelming thoughts and feelings he’s having of you.

Note: Sorry this took agesssssssss to come out, i hope you can forgive me and ENJOY!!!!!

Warning: Death, child-birth, angst

Originally posted by negandarylsatisfaction

Negan’s hand caressed the side of your face as you screamed in pain. You grabbed onto his hand and squeezed, trying to let out your pain that way. He hated seeing you like this, but it was something you had to go through in order to give birth to his child. Out of all the other wives, Negan couldn’t be happier that you were carrying his baby. The doctor told you to push one more time, but something felt wrong. You felt a sharp pain as you pushed and you cried out, begging the doctor to just get this baby out of you.

“Stop pushing! There’s something wrong!” The doctor said. You felt your eyes roll to the back of your head but Negan shook you, forcing you to stay awake.

“Don’t do that (y/n). Don’t you dare close your eyes!” His voice was strong but you could hear the fear in it. He wasn’t ready to lose you, especially when he would have to take care of the baby and be reminded of you all day.

“What going on doc?” Negan asked, desperately grasping onto your hand and squeezing it to keep you awake.

“She’s bleeding out, she can’t continue to push. I need to do a C-section!”

You didn’t know what was going on now. You stared up at the bright lights that hung from the ceiling as they started to blur into one bright light, no ceiling or walls; just white. “Negan?” was the last thing you managed to say before passing through the light.

“It’s okay baby, stay strong” Negan said, unaware that you had already passed. He held your hand firmly in his as he watched the doctor pull the baby from the open wound in your stomach. Negan fought back the tears as he watched the doctor clean the crying baby.

“It’s a girl” the doctor whispered, smiling at the baby girl in his hands. “Here”

The doctor passed the baby girl to Negan and he felt a sense of protectiveness he had never felt before. This was his daughter and he would protect her with his life. “Look baby, isn’t she beautiful?”

Negan looked at you but his smile soon dropped when he saw you. Your face was as white as a ghost and you lay lifeless in the bed, your eyes closed. “(Y/n)?”

Negan’s arms grew weak and the doctor quickly snatched the child from his arms as he dropped to his knees by your side. “No, no, no, doc you need to fix this, no…” Negan continued to mumble under his breath as a heavy stream of tears dropped down his face. He stood up and brought his arms around your body, lifting you up to him. He cried out when your head flopped back, a clear sign you were gone.

“No!” Negan shouted and the baby started crying again at the sudden sound.

“Negan-” The doctor started but he cut him off.

“Get out of here. And take that baby with you!”

The doctor didn’t dare argue with him as he took the baby and left Negan alone. He stared down at you and cried into your chest, memories of you flashing through his mind. He remembered the joy you brought to this place, there was never a dull moment within the compound as you were always cracking jokes and keeping everyone smiling. Now that would all change as something switched in Negan. He felt no will to live. But then, the baby popped into his head. It would be a constant reminder of you and it would hurt Negan even more if she had your features. Negan held your hand and promised to protect the baby from this cruel world. He wouldn’t let her leave as quickly as you did.

Negan wiped at his puffy eyes as he took one more look at you. He took a deep breath in and took a thin cover from the cupboard and put it over your body, wanting no one to see this horrific view. He stepped out of the operating room to see the doctor sitting outside with the baby in his arms. He immediately stood up and gave the baby to Negan while he went back in to clean up the mess. Negan looked down at his daughter, she slept so peacefully considering she was a new born. He kissed her forehead and walked outside to be greeted by the dozens of saviors who clapped when they saw Negan and the baby.

“Where’s (y/n)?” Sherry asked, wanting to see you and help comfort you.

Negan gave her a look that sent a shiver up her spine. You didn’t make it. Everyone bowed their heads in respect but Negan couldn’t stand to see it, so he walked off and didn’t look back, holding the baby closer in his arms as he let a tear roll down his cheek.

Tags: @teenagetragediesforeveryone

where hearts collide: part iii

thank you all for the sweet comments on the first two parts! i didn’t know if i was going to write more of this or not, but i got super inspired and couldn’t help myself. unfortunately, this is not the reason why claire leaves, but it is the first time they meet each other. (it’s rather long, also, so i’m going to cut it right after the title. #yourewelcome) i hope you guys like it; let me know what you think!

as always, huge thank-you’s to @internallydeceased​ and @marlosbooknook​ for listening to me complain about anything and everything.

title inspiration here (x)

read the previous entries here!

***** !! disclaimer: I am not trying to make light of a horrific situation or use other people’s suffering for entertainment purposes. I know that many people were affected by the tragedy used in this work and that a lot of the wounds are still fresh. Please know that I am sorry if I hurt you in any way, for that is not my goal. If you wish to talk to me more about this or voice your concerns, please feel free to message me! I’d be happy to explain to you the reason why I chose this event. !! *****



Keep reading

This IS an ask blog, after all

ASK: You spin her right round gaster Right round Have mercy she’s just an reptile

ASK: Geez, Gaster, lighten up on Alphys there.

Don’t worry about her, she’s quite used to this by now! She’s fine- aren’t you, Alphys?


ASK: Well. I’m glad that you plan to keep the questions going. It makes all monster kind happy. What do you think will be the next step in this operation?

Ah, well. I originally intended to use this system as a way of collecting feedback from the general public. My first priority as Royal Scientist is to use the resources available to me to improve the lives of monsterkind. I can only do that if I know what is wrong. So please do contact me with your suggestions.

Additionally, I will use this blog as a method of improving my communication with you all! When it comes to informing the populace about my progress, my assistants have told me that I have a tendency to be rather… hm. Enigmatic, shall we say?

I-I believe the word they used was “cagey”, sir-

Yes thank you for putting it so kindly, Alphys.

Oh! Ah! Ahaha, s-sorry! But, you know, I mean, you admitted it yourself, it’s true-

I will spin you again, assistant. 


ASK: Ev’nin’, doctah! I happened to notice your reaction on the last volley of questions. You had one hell of a cartoonish blue blush… Alphys is more perceptive than she lets on, you know… Not to mention, how do you capture your reactions? Web cam? I’m guessing web cam.

Yes, we are using a bloody webcam.

… A-aren’t you going to…?


Answer the rest of the question?

No. I am ignoring it.

But they said I’m p-perceptive! That’s sweet-

Yes that’s nice moving on-

A-and your face did look really cartoony-


Critical reading is an asset

a lot of people don’t read signs, or they read them lazily and read only what they want to see.

One of two entrance doors broke at our store and so we have a sign that apologizes and says to use door number two. The problem is that you have to walk maybe three steps to door number two.

Customers don’t read the sign and they get EXTREMELY CONFUSED as to why door number one isn’t working and why the cashiers won’t let them in the exit doors. They wait outside until someone leaves the automatic doors and then enter. I had a lady glare daggers at my coworker… but these are the exit doors? You can walk a few steps to the operational door? I’ve had customers bitch at me all day about how the door is locked and they don’t understand why. Hint: it’s broken, and therefor we lock it to keep it from breaking more. I’ve had customers glare at me and bang on the exit doors like retail zombies.

People don’t read signs.

Additionally, we recently posted that we are closing at 8pm. The sign reads “starting February 6th” to give people a fair warning so they can’t bitch at us if we close an hour earlier than normal. Before the 6th the amount of customers who would walk in around 8pm, open mouthed, looking kinda terrified was ridiculous. “ARENT YOU CLOSED?” No Helen your fifth grader has better critical reading skills than you do.

no day but today

“ White Day -  a special day in several east asian countries. taking place one month after valentine’s day, on this occasion, men gift women with candy. ”

Jungkook x Reader

➢  genre/au: fluff oneshot + college!au + shy boy jungkook

word count: 3.9k

playlist inspiration  

The thumping of his heart continued to grow apparent to the point where the resounding beats quietly rang in his ears. In Jungkook’s palm, a little red box perched. Slightly curling his fingers inwards, he feels the tips brush against the material, visualizing a delicate red rose. His hopes hinging on one simple box of chocolates. The young man, lightly berates himself: get a hold of yourself! He whispers in a lowly voice. Jungkook knew that if he couldn’t ready himself now—standing in front of the mirror where his confidence lay in disarray—the courage that lighted the path before him would remain dim. He wanted, or rather, needed to show her his cool side yet so far, even pretending that the mirror was her figure keenly awaiting his words to be uttered to her, Jungkook still crumbled under embarrassment and flushed cheeks.

He shook his head and resumed his mini rehearsal, pressing on, though barely avoiding his gaze of the mirror as he instead imagined how her eyes would look the moment he extends his arms, the precious gift nestled in his hands. “N-Noona, I’d like to—I’d like to give you…” a flash of her smile and it was over, just like that. “Damn it, I can’t do this. I’m too nervous!” he brought a hand to cover his mouth, trying to constrict the rising heat that’s to overtake his cheeks again.

~ ~

Emerging from a room tainted with lectures, scribbled down notes, and mentions of significant figures derived from a textbook’s pages, it was no wonder you took a moment to stretch out your arms once you were able to get away from it all.

Strolling, you were only reminded of another matter.

A box of chocolates here, a basket of sweets there, and pink and white teddy bears to match was the theme of the day as you roamed the halls towards the building’s exit. You pursed your lips as it was inevitable to avoid—if it weren’t a girl’s boyfriend showering her with gifts then it was a girl being asked out by their not-so-secret admirers; and depending on their reaction, you could tell whether it would be a success or not. Not like you cared…you were just very observant today, that was all.

A nudge against your arm. Bestfriend pulling back your attention. And somehow, you could already decode the meaning behind that taunting smirk.  “So any guys come to profess their love for you yet.” She says.

You scoff, trying to repel her away before she could get a chance to tease you further, “No, why do you wanna know? I told you already that I’m not looking to date anybody.”

“Uh huh, sure Y/N.”

It was enough to spot all of the ambience of love frolicking in the air but to actually hear about it as well? You sighed, can I just go home already? There was no doubt that a fragment of yourself can’t help but feel caged and left like a black a sheep to the masses who were currently having their heart adorned; the only consolation was that maybe doing laundry and spring cleaning could ease your mind away from the subject matter.

“Hey what about that dude, though? The freshman from our Humanities class, you’ve hung out a couple times. Nothing blooming between you two?”

Keep reading

Ghost Adventures: Bidders

@maidofstars @catchthespade @bolt8826 @celestial-demigodd here it is, a month later!

Eisuke & Soryu: Lead Investigators. 

Eisuke and Soryu founded the paranormal investigation group that all of the Bidders are a part of. It started out as a new way to kill time aside from the auctions, but these nerds really got into it. Soryu is a skeptic, but he’s willing to stick with the team since he’s in a leadership role. Eisuke is a total believer, and he loves to act tough and try to provoke spirits. He’s the first one to start screaming and crying if he gets a response, though, because of course he is.

Baba & Ota: Location Scouters, Investigation Team. 

You know these little shits think Eisuke and Soryu aren’t picky enough to find good locations, so they decided to take over. They’re willing to find the most obscure places across the globe if they think the haunting is enticing enough. Honestly? 90% of their decision making is

“Will this scare the shit out of Eisuke?”

“Oh totally”


Mamoru: Equipment Technician, Investigation Team. 

Mamoru thinks it’s lame to get too into the fuss of the supernatural, so he’s fine being behind the scenes. He’s strong, so Mamoru has no issue with resting a heavy camera on his shoulder for hours. Plus, he can just lean up against a wall if they’re sticking to one spot to investigate. Perfect, right? Sometimes when he’s fed up with a spirit, he gets the audio recorder and just starts yelling at them lmao

Luke: Interviewer, Historical Researcher, Investigation. 

Team Spooky Dude is probably really into the history of a place, especially if there was a really gruesome murder or a botched surgery so yeah, perfect role for him. He’s calm and quiet enough to conduct interviews, and honestly he just spaces out because it’s his personality lmao.

Shuichi: Interviewer, Demonologist, Investigation Team.

Being the religious type, Shuichi would be perfect for the role of the Demonologist in the group. Not only can he conjure up spirits, but he has the power to eliminate them from an area and even bless the property the team is investigating.

Hikaru: Engineer, Investigation Team. 

Hikaru is the one that comes up with all the cool gadgets that the team gets to use. He’s into tech stuff, so he’s usually on scene in case something breaks during the investigation. He steps in for camera operation if Mamoru gets dragged into an investigation.

Rhion: Audio Technician, Investigation Team. 

This sweet innocent bean would get roped into doing audio technician work, even though he’s terrified of anything related to the supernatural. He certainly doesn’t want to get roped into anything having to do with talking to or interrogating spirits.

MC: Interviewer, Investigation Team. 

Since MC is such a calming presence, the team felt it was a perfect fit to ask her to conduct interviews with people who have had paranormal experiences at each location. Sometimes she gets roped into the actual investigation, but she’s usually one of the bravest of the bunch. It’s hilarious to see her stand her ground with a spirit when Eisuke is in the corner crying, so the rest of the team asks her to join on the more intense investigations.