#and that love and communication are good options and that family can be a little complex but that’s ok

[strawbeerossi]

Taking Calls

Pairing: Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid

Description: Whenever a man who makes you feel uncomfortable asks for your number, you give him your boyfriend’s number instead. Whenever he texts him all day and finally decides to call, Spencer plans on taking care of it.

Content/Warnings: Minor case details (nothing explicit), creep officer, loving boyfriend Spencer, intimidation mention, kissing, unprotected sex, Spencer answers a phone call in the middle of sex (I didn’t know how to word that so it works lmao.)

Word Count: 1.2K

Anon Request: I had a spicy idea where a creepy cop tries to get readers number for “work purposes” and instead she gives him Spencer’s number and the cop happens to call Spencer and reader while he’s in the middle of fucking reader or the reader is in the middle of giving him a blowjob and the cop sort of hears her in the background? I just thought you’d be the perfect person to write this 😍

Navigation || Criminal Minds Masterlist || Request

🏷️ @kr-1-sta @iluvreid @nervousmoongiver @multifandom-on-the-side @ferrjulie @lov1ngreid @sobbingcryingattsizzles @doriantomybasil @thegluesong @rosiehale23

Spencer had his number given out before due to a prank on Derek’s end that had so many people blowing up his phone. It was something he vowed that he would get the man back for and specifically state that it could never happen again.

The team was on a case in Manhattan, a standard killer who had an awakened blood lust was terrorizing the city. After six victims, the NYPD felt it was best to invite the BAU onto the case, which seemed to be too little too late due to the man going dormant.

Every lead was buried so deep that you’d need an excavator to dig them up, still the team persisted. You were currently on day three, staying back at the police precinct along with Dave to interview the families of the deceased, hoping to dig up any leads.

You had currently stepped out for a brief break, standing by the coffee machine as you were getting one of the disposable cups, filling it to the brim with a healthy mixture of coffee and sugar. “Hey, Y/L/N, correct?” A voice came from behind you, making you turn to look over the person addressing you. Officer Laslow. “Hi, yes. That’s me. How can I help you?” You asked, eyebrows raising.

You didn’t like to judge people, however you had a very uneasy feeling around him. The way he was looking at you was a good enough reason to be uncomfortable, the man seeming to mentally undress you as he stared into your soul. “I was just wondering if your team had any leads? I mean, I’m sure the families know something,” He spoke, making you sigh as your shoulders slumped. “Nothing, unfortunately.” You spoke while sipping from the coffee cup in your hands.

“Nothing? What a shame. I was actually wondering if you and I could exchange numbers? No funny business, I’m just wanting to make sure we can stay in communication throughout this case. You know, share intel.”

He could’ve just asked Aaron for updates. However, in the moment of being uncomfortable and not knowing what to say, you were clearing your throat. “Well. Okay.. Just for intel though.” You murmured, slowly taking the device from his hands to put in Spencer’s number instead of your own. You’d explain things to your boyfriend later. Until then, you were doing the next best option. Spencer could handle this. You were sure of it.

As another day passed and there was no leads, the team was retreating to the hotel for the night to try and get some rest, even if they were overly focused on trying to catch the murderer running around freely. “Honey, I have a question.” Spencer began as he was walking from the bathroom, a pair of flannel pyjama pants and a white t-shirt clinging to his lanky frame. “I’ve just had a lot of texts today. The person is addressing you by name. Wanna talk about who you gave my number to?” He asked softly. He knew it had to be a big deal if you wouldn’t give someone your number.

“Some creep on the NYPD team. You should’ve seen the way he looked at me, Spencer. It made me so uncomfortable.” You shivered while looking over at your boyfriend. “I’m sorry that I gave him your number. I didn’t know what else to do.” The feeling of his hand rubbing your shoulder caused your body to relax, a soft sigh leaving his lips.

“I’m not upset with you by any means. I just wanted to ask. He didn’t try and touch you or force himself on you, right?” He asked, slowly letting his arm wrap around your shoulders as you shook your head. “No. Nothing like that. He was just twice my size and intimidating. I mean, he could’ve hurt me if I rejected him.” In this job, Spencer saw cases like that far too much, so he believed it.

“Come here.” He spoke while slowly pressing a few kisses against your cheek. “It’ll be okay. I’ll speak with Hotch about it tomorrow. It’ll get taken care of.” He smiled, the back of his knuckle gently caressing your cheek. “How did I get so lucky to be with you?” You asked softly, offering a smile as you leaned against his touch. “I’m the lucky one.” He mused, now moving to press a sweet kiss against your lips.

However, the kiss was only cut short whenever he could hear the ringtone on his phone designated for texts. “This guy is a real piece of work.” Your boyfriend muttered against your lips, opting to ignore the incessant sounds coming from his phone as he carried on your shared kiss. As the kids deepened, his hands were working to push your shirt over your head before his hands were working on your work pants. You hadn’t changed just yet, so he felt like he was definitely helping you out in the grand scheme of things.

Once you were undressed to his liking, it wasn’t long until your own hands were pushing at his clothes to bring him to the same level of unclothed as you were. “Lay down.” Spencer breathed as he broke the kiss, watching you push yourself back in bed before he was crawling on top of you to attach your lips once more. You were both eager, a lot of stress from this case as well as your own yearning for pleasure making things go just a little faster than usual. He used one hand to bring one of your legs around his waist, which prompted you to mirror your actions with your other leg.

Pushing your panties to the side, your boyfriend wasted no time pushing his cock inside of your eager cunt, a low groan leaving his lips as the hand propping him up was gripping the sheets. “Fuck. I love you.” He whispered, pressing a few sweet kisses to your lips. For once today, you felt like you could forget the officer from earlier, to enjoy the moment. Until Spencer was getting a call. “Are you kidding?” He huffed out of frustration, hips still thrusting at a slow pace as he was reaching over to take his cellphone from the bedside table.

“W-we should stop.” You breathed, knowing he had to take the call judging by the look on his face. “No. No, just lay there and take it, pretty girl. I’m gonna settle this once and for all.” He murmured. Before you could object, he was swiping to answer the call. “I don’t appreciate being ignored.” The male on the other end of the phone huffed. Just hearing his slimy voice had Spencer cringing. Using his shoulder to hold the phone up to his ear, he let out a soft breath. His hips thrusted into you at a faster speed, your lip tucked between your teeth as you really did try to keep quiet.

“She’s busy but I can take a message.” Spencer answered as if he wasn’t jackhammering you into the mattress right now, whines and moans slipping from your lips as you couldn’t hold them back anymore. “Who is this?” The officer asked, now his annoyance being clear as day. “Spencer!” You gasped out, answering his question without even being aware of it.

“You heard her. Tell the nice man on the phone who has the pleasure of fucking you.” Spencer grunted, making you red in the face as you gripped his upper arms. “You!”

“My name, baby. Tell him who gets to take you home every night.”

“Spencer!” You panted, head tossed back as he was pounding into your sweet spot.

“Now. If you’ll excuse me, I have important matters to attend to. I hope you get the hint.” He murmured.

#spencer reid #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid fandom #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid comfort #spencer reid smut #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x reader smut #spencer reid x fem!reader smut

[sunboki]

— THE ALCHEMIST. a Lee Minho fiction

Lee Minho x f. reader

TROPE. historical! au, set in 1940’s Korea, alchemist! au, friends to lovers, fluff, angst

WARNINGS. abusive behavior toward women, impoverished communities, overall sexist beliefs of the time, reader dresses as a man, mentions of death & disease, smoking (not reader or minho), war conflict, making out??

WORD COUNT. 9.6k words

AUG'S NOTES. although it was a bit out of the blue, i had such a great time writing and shaping this universe, thank you to all the love and support thus far<3 also, huge thanks to @comet-falls for instilling the peaky blinders/historical! minho vision in my head with how incredible tooth and claw was, i truly owe it to you :)

SYNOPSIS. Cities stricken with poverty, the lack of male presence in your home while surviving in a male-dominated society leaves meager food on the table and a piling debt. Left no choice but to make a risky decision, you decide that, if biology wanted to fail you, you’d simply try another approach.

alternatively :

In which deception introduces you into an entirely new reality, and The Alchemist.

It’s one thing surviving with the knowledge you can change something, whatever it may be that’s wrong. 

It’s another when that problem isn’t merely changeable, but biological. 

Your problem? You’re a woman. 

Not as easy to fix, right?

.

.

.

With your father lost in the war, fruitlessly straining to support a family of girls, the household is left helpless.

Representation is nonexistent, and merely walking outside frets harassment and laughter struck in your face at the mention of working. 

A woman, working? Hilarious. 

Or, apparently to the men in pubs it certainly is.

Some things you can’t change, yes, but there are always alternatives. And as for now, you’re helplessly searching high and low for that alternative, whatever it may be. 

Selling yourself is possible, though the inability to remain connected to your family eliminates that option. 

When you get so desperate, there’s no incentive in guarding your pride. Because being called derogatory names isn’t as bad as losing them, the people you call home.

October welcomes little warmth, biting your fingertips and sending a tremor of chills cascading down your spine. Minimal sunlight peers through dense clouds, shrouding the atmosphere in a depressing haze. 

You’re on your way to the apothecary, but not to purchase anything. The pennies in your pocket won’t amount to anything in the face of medicinal prices, which happens to be one of your many alternatives. 

Since day one, you’ve had a rock to rely on.

Medicine. 

Lack of money meant improper living conditions, entailing sickness. 

Constantly.

Whether it was your mother, your younger sister, yourself, an infection of some sort occupied your respiratory system, wreaking havoc for wallets and mental health altogether. 

Purchasing necessary medication became impossible the further you drowned in your debt, to the point drastic measures needed to be taken in order to prevent death from infesting itself in the household as well.

Then came the question. If you couldn’t purchase the medicine itself, why not collect the ingredients?

Alternatives.

Behind the apothecary you discovered mint hedges that, if mixed with wormwood and balm, could aid in curing Sun-ja’s current sickness, colic. 

Although, you’d have to be swift in your efforts, ensuring the shop owner didn’t notice your presence.

Too many times had you nearly been caught, risking a good beating from the red-haired, burly man regarded as Mr. Myeong.

Fiery red hair complimented an equally unruly personality you aimed not to cross by. Ever.

Yet, unlike Mr. Myeong, his wife was the polar opposite, an ideal magnet. She was petite and soft-spoken, but out of her appealing traits, you found her resilience to be most attractive.

Mrs. Myeong is stubborn. She’s strong in what she believes, sporting an unquestionably vocal opinion that can’t be quenched.

The woman is, likely, the only woman capable of sealing her husband’s mouth shut.  

Hidden between thorn ridden weeds sits your desired leaves, abundant in supply.

You clutch your satchel closer, plucking as quickly as possible whilst crouched to the ground, maneuvering through tickling grasses and itchy reeds. 

Your mission remains successful, until the wretched sound of a doorknob rips your head upward, the red-haired man in question standing nonplussed, arms crossed. 

He wears a cocked brow, examining what you’re desperately trying to veil away.

Your heart leaps into your throat.

“Stealing, are we?” Black boot clad frame thumping closer, you immediately prepare to run, hair standing on end like an agitated feline.

Instead, his huge hand swoops down to grab your collar, other evidently ready to land a harsh slap to your face.

Instinctively cringing, you brace for the stinging impact.

That is, before a saccharine, lullaby-worthy voice rings from the cracked doorway, belonging to none other than Mrs. Myeong.

“Honey! Have you seen the new envelope that came in?” 

Heels clicking whilst padding over cobblestone to where you two stand, her husband fixates you with a stern, threatening glare. 

Finally dropping your frame to the ground, you slump forward, pulse pounding loud enough you fear your chest may implode. 

Mrs. Myeong, though wearing a taut expression, ushers him off, delivering a curt nod your way, intentional brows furrowed in place. 

‘Thank you’ You wish to say, but hold your tongue, watching them disappear inside.

Another time.

Walking home was rather uneventful (much to your delight), left to enjoy the crisp, cool air sifting through your lungs in steady rhythm, the lazy billows of cigar smoke dwindling from gaping doorways.

Calm. 

Nothing calm ever lasts long.

Stashing the house key back into your decrepit leather draw bag, your footsteps still upon entering, struck terror-filled.

Your mother, strawn across the floor, hacks amongst her rampant coughs, body convulsing in desperate shivers, skin drenched a ghastly blue.

Sprinting to her side, you kneel down, rolling the woman over to find her face utterly battered, new black eye beginning to swell, cheek bruised a mawkish purple against hollowed cheekbones. 

Sharks.

To your left Sun-ja hides in the corner, rags for a blanket pulled to her chest, shielded between the wall and a tipped cabinet. 

Over and over they’ve begun visiting, to the point your mother became recognizable by her continuous black eye, her torn clothing and stooped posture. 

Exhausted, she was exhausted. 

Yet, she took the beatings. The torturous punches. Jarring slaps, traumatic insults, tarnishing. Your mother took it so you wouldn’t, so you and Sun-ja could live.

And it’s at that moment you make up your mind, discover this occasion’s alternative. 

“Cut it off.” 

“Cut.. Cut it off?” Hyunjin gapes, fingers stalling their descent down a strand of your hair. 

You smile, grimacing the longer consideration poises.

No point in thinking too much.

“Yep. Give me the most boy-ish haircut you can.” You emphasize, gesturing toward his scissors expectantly. 

Hyunjin, your personally appointed hairstylist, doesn’t seem too convinced. He’s debating, expertly reading your features.

Currently, you’re holed up in his room, a miniature apartment located near the furthest section of town, close to the coast.

In wee hours of morning you boarded the train here, inhaling salty, ocean-smelling breeze. Back in your old residence you met him, your neighbor Hwang Hyunjin. It’s a miracle you still stayed in contact, bond aging like the finest of wines over countless years. 

Enough to where you trusted him to help you enact this alternative of yours. 

Starting with a haircut.

The man stares at you through the mirror, dark, inky hair matting the longer he runs his hands through it. 

Thoughtfully trying to figure out your reasoning, he evidently catches on the moment you witness his eyes roll, releasing a heaving sigh.

“You cannot be serious.”

A torrential truth keeps you from responding, gaze directed at your feet. 

“Y/n,” He uttered, eyes filling with a concern you avoid meeting, avoid regarding in a whole. “You don’t have to do this, the war is going to end soon and your father will come ba—“

“He’s dead.”

Silence engulfs the room.

Collecting yourself, you scorn his frown.

“He’s dead and gone. Now I need to protect them, provide for them.“ 

You deny the shakiness of your voice.

“So, Hyunjin. Cut off my hair.”

Accordingly, he does without another word. Snip by snip, tress by tress falling below, scattering the tile floor in endless strands.

By the time you see yourself, it’s hard to recognize the person in the reflection. Never had you considered your hair a viable source of identity, but now that it’s so sparse, the effect is eminent. 

Failing to see yourself in your own reflection beckons a different kind of sadness. For the person you’ve introduced yourself as reigns no more. She’s been replaced.

Hyunjin pulls you into his arms, embrace just as comforting as you remembered. His hand reaches to caress your cropped hair, rocking back and forth on his heels, chin resting on your head. 

“Be careful, okay?”

Nodding into his shoulder, you wipe salty streaks from your cheeks. 

Hurts.

“And if you need a place to take shelter, I’ll be here.”

Steadying in his hug again, you pull back, cherishing his kindness with a chaste kiss to the cheek. 

“Thank you, really.”

Shaking his head at your gratitude, urging you out and lingering by the doorway till your figure retreats in the distance.

Next stop, Mrs. Myeong. 

If anyone has any idea how to source the clothing you’re needing, your best chance would be thanks to her. 

An hour later you arrive in familiar avenues, creeping out of sight into the apothecary in hopes the woman you’re looking for is working the counter. 

Much to your pleasure, after a few unsuccessful attempts do you grasp her attention, edging forward under the guise of a regular hoping to converse. 

“I need your help.”

Initially, she carries that sternness, wordlessly lifting your hooded head a bit to notice the latest adjustment. Shock written over her face, Mrs. Myeong drags you along with her, closing the door to a back room.   

“My child, what is going on?” She whispers, tone urgent. You can’t help but feel fond of the affectionate nickname.

“I need male clothing and,” You hesitate, teeth nipping at your bottom lip. “something to bind my chest with.”

Similar to Hyunjin, she steps back, assessing the situation at hand. Spending a brief few seconds roaming your figure, the woman works hastily toward fetching a petticoat, meticulously fitting each article atop your stock-still frame.

“You’re conceited,” she grumbles. “And foolish.” Carefully peeling off your upper-wear, she’s managed to cut a piece of thick cloth to use as a make-shift binder, assembling the fabric over your breast. 

The experience, although strange, wasn’t as painful as anticipated.

“But be careful, and stay in contact.”

Your response is hushed.

“Breathe in,” The older woman instructs, securing her creation with a threaded pin before moving onto other aspects, like a proper coat and pants. 

Mr. Myeong’s trousers, though having to be sewn to fit, make do, and you’re reminded to return tomorrow for shoes. Otherwise, the attire is completed, paired with a curved hat to finish. 

Sure, the entire male concept is foreign, but given time, you’ll gradually acclimate.

Oh, right. 

Your alternative?

Since medicine is what you know, you’ll stick with that. Difference being medicine is a men’s occupation, and so, if you can’t be a female working in the field, why not become male? 

Well, somewhat become male.

It’s a risky wager, easily placing your life on the line in the process. 

For your mother and Sun-ja, however, it’s your turn to take the beating. Your turn to endure.

Observation is a virtue. It can save and preserve, heed to oncoming danger, and simultaneously (and discreetly) supply useful information.

Today, seated on a bench in Daegu Station, your first observation is the abundance of people scurrying like mice.

Some tall, some short. Distinct moles, eyes. Upturned and downturned lips. Mustaches, beards. Much to see.

Your legs cross and uncross, Mr. Myeong’s oversized heeled shoes beginning to sink at your ankles. Hat strung low enough to peer out without attracting attention, your gaze is magnetically drawn to a magazine held on the adjacent side of the train tracks, title on display.   

Prized Alchemist Lee Minho suspected of being the lone survivor of the Red Plagu—

Ignorant to your surroundings, your senses posed numb to the incoming train, blocking off the last few words of the title from view the moment it soars past—nearly sweeping the fedora off your head. 

By the time the last few train cars passed, the man honing said magazine had disappeared, and you were left wondering if the experience was merely a figment of your imagination.  

Although, you did have one lead. A name.

Lee Minho. 

Where you’d find him remained unknown, deciding to rely on a magazine parlor first and foremost for more intel.  

To no surprise, nearly every magazine rack lay lined with haughty opinions regarding the war and its evident cruelty.

Many onlookers of both Americans, Koreans, and foreigners alike chatter amongst themselves about their own take between gossiping hands and fumes of tobacco.

In this town, located far off in the business district by a ship port, people are everywhere.

Wives of sailors, families of soldiers off at war. Women honing gleaning parasols and ivory gloves reaching to their elbows.

Languages you’ve never heard before utter their enunciated syllables, vocabulary petulant with accent—all shrouded in dismay.   

Roaming the store endlessly to no avail, you prepare to adventure back through dusty streets and battered wooden stall-shops before a peculiar name pauses your footsteps. 

His name, The Alchemist, Lee Minho.

“Bring ‘em home I tell ‘ya,” An aged man by the deepened grooves of his face, hollow cheekbones and bunched wrinkles grumbles.

A fat cigar hangs loosely from thin lips, pale baker boy cap adorning a bald head. 

Some sentences estranged, you identify his sentences as French, heavy in dialect, throaty and broad.

And although your fluency stay patchy, exposure from French immigrants who’ve relocated near home allow minimal understanding as to what they’re talking about.

“Say, did you hear that Lee Minho chap was a Red Plague?” His counterpart offered past his own leering cigar, foot tapping incessantly.

The other hacks his bewilderment, feeble fist pounding on an equally feeble chest.

“The Alchemist?” 

The man’s astonishment returned with a nod, you lean closer, pretending to be consumed in an article. 

“Said he was only nineteen when it happened. Shipped ‘em off only for disease to kill them all. One survived, now people are speculatin’ it’s him.”

Either of them sigh out long drags.

“Well I’ll be damned.” Is all the other huffs in disbelief, and upon recognizing the conversation approaching an end, you stir to action, willing your voice to deepen an octave.

Attempting to appeal in your broken French, you stall the two, cautiously claiming you’re in need of his whereabouts for an esteemed business transaction to which, through confused stares, you’re given loose directions.

Loose, but feasible.

80 Kent Avenue, dark blue doors.

Directions that, according to the sudden blank of streetlights, would have to wait until tomorrow. As for now, the world beckoned you to rest, and any progress would prove futile and rather impossible in the dark.

Luckily, a run-down Inn gifted good few hours of shut-eye before dawn peered through the windowsills and you were begrudgingly forced to your feet. 

Fitting the binder snug across your body and fastening your trench coat through minuscule belt loops, you’re taught with much haste the stark difference of men’s prestige entitlement. 

First access to everything, the ability to have their way with a woman whether she willingly obliges or not, and just about ten billion other things someone of your hidden status couldn’t fathom.

A man’s world is a world only possible through disguise. Yours just happens to be a last resort.

Charming the mistress at the front desk was unexpectedly effortless, not to mention how easily she spilled the details as to where Kent Avenue would be located.

Another noticeable attribute of your new appearance, no one asked as to where you were going nor your intentions, they merely dipped their heads and wished you off.

Adjustments.

Adjustments that, if you’d been born different, would be normal.

Kent Avenue lay twisted in shadows. The surrounding area brims in barely flickering labels and creaking doorways leading to who knows where. Quaint isn’t the word for it. More ancient, all-knowing. 

This place has been here for centuries with many stories to tell, most just haven’t heard them yet.

Significantly dark blue doors make the Alchemist’s residence easily noticeable, starkly contrasting with wooded architecture. Massive doorknobs engraved with lions, windows shielded by moth-eaten curtains. Grand, in its own form.

You swore each door stood eight feet tall, the left in particular left slightly ajar.

Wait, ajar?

Doing a double take to ensure your vision wasn’t playing tricks on you, you inch forward, widening the dark gap exponentially until all you faced was a black abyss—apart from the miniature lamp beaming yellow light in a far corner.

Carefully tiptoeing into said black abyss, the further you explore, the greater the visibility increases. Leather cushioned furniture, clean, polished desks. The desk the lone lamp rests upon is a chestnut wooden, ink feathers residing in the upper corner.

Somehow, the matter grants envy, resentment grating your nerves. This man lives comfortably while other’s are beaten for possessing nothing. Maybe it’s a petty, unnecessary thought; and maybe you’re foolish, but all odds are against you, your disposition seems righteous.

Getting too lost in your head turned out foolish as well.

“What’s this?” A voice behind you whispers, voice ghosting chills tickling your neck at an alarming pace. 

Whipping around, eyes struck wide in shock, the person responsible for the remark comes into view, his stature opposing the tone muttered in your ear seconds ago.     

Not a plump business man like you imagined, not adorning a spectacle, no pipe in sight. Instead, one lone button right below the chest fits snug white sleeves cuffed by his elbows, black vest hugging a slim torso.

Conniving, cat-like eyes analyze your expressions while dark brown hair parts to the side, loose strands covering his right eyebrow. And when he reaches up to brush a few frayed tresses to the side you note sleek gloves covering long, pale fingers. 

If anything, this man is more similar to a Vampire.

“Trespassing, are we?”

Collect yourself. This is your opportunity.

Swiftly brushing off your clothes, you clear your throat.

“I have an offer.”

“An offer?” A smile belonging to that of a Cheshire cat adorns his lips, one leg propping itself over the other, fingers intertwining in front of him.

Ensuring your voice is clear and concise (while keeping the deeper, male-ish tone), you state your claim, despising how utterly debilitating it feels being caught under his observative stare. 

Like he sees through you.

“I would be a valuable asset to your studies in alchemy. I know about herbs and their uses better than anyone else, and where they’re located.”

Sure, the bargain might’ve sounded arrogant, but you were technically cosplaying as a man when most men of your time couldn’t shut up about themselves, arrogance was the least of your problems. 

Gnawing at his cheek as you spoke, he pauses a moment, then laughs.

Amused. 

Dark lashes dust above equally dark eyes, nearly black as they study you.

“You want to be my apprentice? Is that it?”

You remain close-lipped.

“I’ll tell you one thing, kid. This world is all about money,” He raises a cane from where he reclined, using the end to tip your chin up and meet his eyes. 

“No?” 

To which you simply stare back at him, refusing to avert eye-contact. 

“I’m sure that’s what you’re here for anyways.” Rising from his place, he sighs heartily. “But see, I’m a greedy man, not a good man.” 

Abruptly, his countenance falls flat. 

“And my job isn’t fun, so you’re out of luck.” 

Immediately, you’re frantic, trying your hardest to ignore his obvious statement to leave. The last thing you need is to run out of luck, run out of options.

And so, you hastily wrack your mind for a solution, an excuse, whatever keeps you in this dimly lit room.

“You- You were part of the Red Plague, weren’t you?” Spitting out words from the depths of your racing mind, The Alchemist stops, fixing you with an unreadable look.

Red Plague as in, the group of young men enlisted during the war that all died of a deadly disease but one. One who, many speculate is the man before you.

Breathe in.

“I may not know much about you, but I know what it’s like to want to save somebody.”

Breathe out.

Now it was his turn to stand there, and for a second you swore you saw a flash of sympathy cross his face.

You wet your lips. “I’ll run your errands and wash your clothing, I’ll clean this place spotless. Plus, it’s not like I’m a woman asking for a job, so please, give me a chance.” 

Slowly, The Alchemist raises a brow, laugh disbelieving.

“Since when did being a woman have anything to do with this?” 

Huh?

How.. odd.

If anything, the majority would wholeheartedly agree, likely hiring you on the spot with how impalpable such a jest seemed.

He would’ve laughed, maybe slapped your back. Would’ve wrapped an arm around your shoulders, proclaimed you his friend.

Yet, you almost feel flattered. Flattered in a strange, unrealistic manner. 

Basking in a deplorable quietness, The Alchemist sighs, combing a gloved hand through silken strands. 

“I have a spare room around that corner.” He points, leather gloves narrowly highlighted by orange lighting.  “Make yourself useful, hm?”

And like that, even if it was a long shot, you landed it. More specifically, landed a job. 

How preposterous. 

How exciting. 

Yet, it began hesitantly. As if he was initially testing your usefulness. Sending you on runs to the nearby gardens, having you make sure a concoction didn’t derange itself while he fetched better flasks. Easy things.

However, you didn’t complain. A boring job was better than no job, and as long as a few coins were emptied into your pocket afterward, you’d continue to work without whining.  

Burdock, oregano. Motherwort that would erupt billows of chemically-infused air when added to oils or sugars.  

Then you noticed The Alchemist. His quirks, his  characteristics. 

He shifts between a long trench coat or tight vests, his hair is always styled a certain way, though some days, when he just wakes up, he has this tiny bird nest of hair atop his head, it’s charming. 

He yawns a lot. 

He wears heeled shoes, maybe from his shorter height, maybe preference. 

And rather peculiarly, the longer you stay in his lair, the greater you notice the many scars littering his forearms, collarbones. Miniature cuts and imprints left on porcelain skin. 

Those observations, conjoined with his reactions, make for a truly interesting character. 

Reactions being his dislike toward loud noises, the matter in which his shoulders scrunch at a loud clap outside, eyes blown wide, fearful. 

The longer you stay in his lair, the more you notice him, nonetheless his fears. Whether suspicion clarifies anything in specific, there’s no denying he’s a man of war. 

Lee Minho has secrets, and as badly as your nosiness itches to uncover them, you, as you had promised earlier, will keep your lips sealed. 

And it makes you wonder, what’s life like on your side of the street? What throng of unfairness left you awash, left you both suffering? 

You wonder about your oppositions and similarities in different points of each other’s lives. Minutes, decades before you ever met.

Certain stones shall stay unturned, but you hope, maybe one day, those questions will be answered.  

Interestingly enough, he never asked about your name; not even when you gingerly introduced yourself as your last name, a rather awkward fit.

Likewise, you don’t complain. There’s only two of you in the house after all.

A week in, you’re finally introduced to something new. 

The Alchemist plans to have you tag along with him to Port Nova, a docking station located on the outskirts of Busan.

Business thrives in ship ports, the sole source of connectivity for a growing country like Korea. Each day, millions of shipments come in from countries you can’t name, so you’re not surprised in the slightest he’s headed there for a transaction. 

You are surprised he decided to have you tag along.

Even more so that, as you hop off the transit, hurriedly tailing his left, he veers off a sharp turn, approaching a worn Burlesque Club, glittering sign halfway dangling from its perch on a scarlet red awning. 

English letters spell out Nova Burlesque, a few missing letters left astray to the side, electrical bulbs spasming with sporadic lighting on the dusty ground below.

In the daylight, the place appears ordinary, blending in with its crumbling, desolate surroundings. 

Although, you have no doubt this place utterly delights in the eve, pink-neon inviting enough to lure unaware foreigners upon first arrival. 

“Mr. Lee,” You utter, returned with a short scoff from the man who insisted you refer to him by his name, Minho. 

“Where are we going?”

It’s hesitant, unsure of whether to intervene, but Minho only smirks, whispering a not-very-assuring “You’ll see” you begrudgingly go along with. 

Inside is the last of what you anticipated. 

Oh dear.

You’ve only been to minimal Burlesque Clubs, but the ornery perspective of faux jewelry, a glittery, hallucinatory stage, and the constant rendition of Why Don’t You Do Right whirling on scratchy records isn’t present here. 

Alternatively, there’s stools scattered around a marginally illuminated clearing, some upturned, others occupied by burly men with equally burly beards. 

And in the middle, a boxing ring is situated. The stench of sweat and blood soaks the air in a metallic, pungent aroma.

A brisk realization crosses your mind, a conclusion of a sort.

Play a fool’s game, earn a fool’s reward.

Only you, Hyunjin, and Ms. Myeong know the lengths you’re willing to go to secure your family's well-being, and now, at odds you can’t compromise, you have to do everything in your power to maintain your act.

This is a test.

Sifting behind you, he murmurs a hushed: “Cover your ears.” That you begrudgingly oblige to, cupping either hand over your ears as Minho clutches his leather holster, concealed within the confines of a frequently worn coat.

In a split second, a gunshot is fired to the ceiling, the bullet's shell casing dropping atop the welt of his pointed shoe.

Stunned silence ensues.

Arm still extending the revolver in the air, you haphazardly remove your hands, dragging the hat further over your face as more eyes focus on the both of you. 

“I’m looking for Reiner and Manfred.”

The longer the tension rises, the further you grow self conscious.

“Already?” A man bellows from inside the ring, breaking the awestruck spell whilst gripping his opponent by the collar, fist poised and ready to strike. 

Unusually, they seem to know each other.

Minho merely exhales a loud sigh through his nose, practically two times smaller than his apparent acquaintance. 

Said acquaintances grumbles. 

“Leave it to our champion to interrupt the show.” 

And with that, he hooks the contender in the jaw, sending him pummeling down to the tarnished mat where hoards either cheer or groan, hustling money left and right over the victor.

Champion of the show? You’re adding that to your collection of never ending questions that’ll likely stay unanswered.

From the crowd arises two men. The victor from the ring and another from the crowd, dressed lavishly opposed to his white tank top-wearing counterpart. 

Reiner and Manfred, you assume. 

Serving as a mere shadow in The Alchemist’s wake, the four of you hustle outside, met with a nonplussed Minho and two, mildly confused (and enormously tall) men. 

Foreigners, certainly.

“..Care to introduce the pipsqueak?” Reiner presumably more talkative, piques, beady eyes scouring your figure enough to where you scorn the beads of sweat collecting upon your temple. 

Pipsqueak my foot. 

You stave down the retort, inhabiting Minho’s shadow as the three discuss matters of a hospital transaction. Almost like you weren’t there at all, as it’s always been.

If it weren’t for the technicalities, you would’ve interjected, made your presence known. Except, other than herbal instances, you’re a novice in the business department. You’ll leave that up to your current mentor to arrange.

Again, lips sealed.

Minho, ignorant to the previous victor’s question, continues to sign legal documents supplied by the calmer individual, Manfred. You internally thank the gesture.

Well, before Reiner’s sordid gaze becomes too stifling to brush off.

“I’m Mr. Lee’s apprentice, L/N. Nice to meet you,” You initiate, fearlessly reaching out a hand he heartily shakes, features graced with amusement, massive hand practically engulfing yours. 

Pardoning a gruff “Likewise”, he nearly sends you flying from the timbre of his voice alone.

“Say,” Reiner mutters, finally completing the last of the package transfers. “Don’t you think this one seems a bit feminine?”

Your jaw ticks, nervousness shrouding your being like an unrelenting fog. Minho’s fingers close around your elbow, pulling you closer, brows knit.

“Perhaps you need your eyes checked, Reiner,” He offers, tone nonchalant opposed to the vice-like grip latched to your arm.

Heftily chortling, the man only pats your back, causing your entire body to surge forward upon impact.

“Well regardless, it’s a cute little thing ain’t it?”

Manfred simply grunts his acknowledgment while you bite your tongue, coveting your retaliation when he referred to you as “it”.

No use growing angered. The feeling is futile.

Luckily, your irritable arrangement comes to a hasty close, more than gleeful to have an understandably annoyed Minho steer you from Port Nova onto a short train back to Kent Avenue, to your newly established home.

A home, but not really a home. Semi-permanent, unofficial.

Either way, you wouldn’t complain. Despite the constant efforts in diminishing your past identity, you didn’t feel as conscious when around Minho. 

Safer.

As if, in an alternative reality, you could tell him. Your truths, your burdens.

No. You won’t jeopardize this opportunity. You can’t.

At least, not yet.

“I’ll be back Mr. Lee!” You shout, wielding a briefcase bag to your person, nudging the ghoulish door open using your hip.

As usual, you’re headed off on a restocking trip.

Except on this occasion, the restocking consists of hunting down a peculiar herb: Chinese Chrysanthemum. It’s an appealing plant with fluorescent leaves and a constant need for sunlight. 

It’s no surprise he’s sent you to fetch such goods. After two months, you soared in and out of the residence routinely, scouring Korea while Minho hunched over a wildly diverse array of vials and flasks, glasses propped on his slightly hooked nose, hands firmly resting on a wooden exam table.

Studious. He is very studious. 

However, a catch diverts itself from eye view. A catch you hadn’t considered until your two feet stepped from squealing train tracks.

Somehow, although unusually intentional, you wound up in a rather peculiar area. An area you never imagined paying a visit to in your wildest dreams.

In the midst of economic outrage and warring circumstances, you’re standing in one of Korea’s most unstable, informal districts. A place that, according to your overhearing ear, was where your precious Chrysanthemum lodged.

This district had an infamous name. 

The Den.

A fitting name in actuality, where a person didn’t realize they were stuck till it was too late, unable to see where they’re going, living in belief there’s an incentive to the finish line in a race run in circles. 

Also, a place the Sharks who torment your family report to.

You can hear your heart thrumming in your ears, nearly ricocheting out of your chest with its horrid cacophony. 

Calm down. 

Calm down. Think of the goal. 

All you have to do is find a flower. 

Grounding yourself, you pinpoint some viable resources. 

Fertile soil, maybe even sandy, likely in the inner portion of The Den.

Plus, you’re dressed as a man, you might as well act outrageously boisterous.

But you’re not, you’re afraid. Perhaps not external, but inside, your lungs feel as if they’re being violently crushed, sinking deeper in an unsteady submersible to the very bottom of the ocean. And for a second, you truly contemplate going back, telling Minho you’re incapable of the task.

Yet, what would you say? You’re haunted by a vision that hasn’t happened? Fearful for a future event with no guarantee? If you had ever done something so horrid, they would’ve found you ages ago.

This time, you’re in their domain, invading what’s theirs as they’ve done to you. 

Greater. You aren’t who you used to be, in more ways than one.

Genuinely, what is there to lose?

That’s it. You’ll complete the mission and return. No run-ins, no fear barricading your job.

In and out.

Initially, you scout out your surroundings, regarding the faint sound of voices funneling in the distance, the smell of mixtures you hate being able to identify, far off machinery croaking before smoke spurs from rusted screws and bolts.

Amongst the chatter of street vendors and the many, notorious gang members patrolling in and out of abandoned shops, you roam avidly, keeping as low a profile as possible.

Number one priority is to not be noticed. Drawing attention to yourself is a one way ticket to failure, and the last thing you need is to arrive back to Minho empty-handed.

However, through the blinding clouds of smoke billowing from exhaust pipes, a specific building, shrouded in the shadows of charcoal residue, douses your peripheral.

A Greenhouse. 

Bingo.

Quickly looking around, you shrink low to the ground, racing forward to carefully creak open glass double doors and slip inside. 

It feels as if you’re enclosed in a furnace. Mere seconds in and sweat already begins gathering upon your temples.

Though that becomes the least of your concerns after assessing what lies inside. 

Hundreds, maybe even thousands of flowers and herbs. Rare species, some critically endangered, just sitting here.

It’s strange. 

Why would, in the case such an abundance existed, not be used? Why hadn’t this Greenhouse been raptured from the inside out for such valuable items? 

It’s not until a commotion stirs ahead of you that you understand the answer to the question. 

With about five plucked Chinese Chrysanthemums expertly sealed into their coordinating bags, a piercing hiss followed by multiple shouts and hollers cause you to shrink back, gazing around haphazardly.

A hiss?

From your perspective nearly kissing the dirt, your vision allows a minuscule glimpse of multiple backs turned, boisterously amused men gathering around something in the front of the Greenhouse.

You feel the need to know more.

Inching forward tip-toe by tip-toe, amidst the roaring crowd, you spare a look between the sea of legs to find an utterly deplorable sight.

A cat. 

No, not just a cat, cat fighting. They’re watching cats maul each other for the fun of it. As if they aren’t living creatures, but toys for their entertainment. 

And perhaps it’s a foolish decision, perhaps laughable being worried, being angered, but you are and you refuse to leave knowing you could’ve done something to help them.

Hastily scouring the floors, a can of Spam discarded below Foxglove stems proves useful enough, tossing it as far as possible where it whacks against the glass wall, immediately averting their attention. 

This is your chance. 

As dark clouds and incoming rain thunder outside, you don’t waste the opportunity, sprinting forward while the men make toward the direction of the sound and hoisting the first cat you see into your arms. 

Sprinting past narrow pathways and dimly lit streets, you force your eardrums numb to the threats they call after you, mind trained on one thing besides getting as far as possible from here.

To Minho to Minho to Minho.

A hand grabbing your shoulder causes you to shriek, swiftly dragged off where you swear your last breaths will be taken, the feline in your arms scrambling with panic.

“What are you doing?” Your captor furiously whispers, hidden in the low lighting of an apparent alleyway.

Wait. You recognize that voice. 

“Hyunjin?”

How does he recognize you?

Just then does a breeze swipe past your head, sending chills trickling down your rain-soaked neck. 

Your hat is gone. Must’ve fell off while you were running. 

“Wh.. what are you doing?” Slipping from his grasp after the men’s hushed conversation becomes inaudible, you regard the man with an incredulous stare.

“Answer my question first,” He reprimands, and as the cat resounds a pained meow do you assess the dire nature of the situation.

You need to get this cat to Minho, and fast. 

“Can’t- Can’t talk right now I’ve got to go—“

“Wait!”

Though, as your footsteps breach the security of the alley, the placating cry of crows mock your left, hurried footsteps belonging to those occupying the Greenhouse heading toward you in rampant haste.

Hyunjin’s hand holding your wrist, you grace a tight-lipped smile his way. 

 “Let’s not see each other like this again, okay?”

He returns a miniature grin, teeming with mischief.

“Agreed.”

Upon letting go, you race off, attempting to speedily navigate back to the train station whilst torrents of streaming droplets cascade down your face. 

“Good luck!” 

“Thanks, I’ll need it!” You respond back, voice permeated against the rain, eyes frantically searching for a place to evade. 

Finally, a crowd appears, swarming amongst diners and flickering street lights.

Your perfect hideaway. 

Swimming through the hive of people, you catapult yourself into the nearest phone booth in sight, fumbling through deep pockets before cashing a coin into the metal slot and jarring your index over slippery metal numbers.

Praying the combination is correct as you hold the wired telephone to your ear, you’re consumed with utmost relief upon hearing The Alchemist’s voice answer on the other side of the crackling line.

Amidst roaring rainfall drowning the booth, you differentiate shouting a ways off, likely belonging to the men from earlier. 

“Mr- Mr. Lee?”

“Yes? Where are you?”

“Are you.. Are you allergic to cats?”

Never in your life did you think you would be so overjoyed seeing blue doors. 

Clambering inside—the rather upset cat in your arms hissing their dismay—you’re overwhelmed with an unexplainable happiness seeing Minho’s face peer from the guest room. 

Relief.

“L/N wha..” 

Words dying in his throat as he gives you a speechless once over, your urge to hug him dissipates instantly, beckoning a new set of garments upon realizing how utterly drenched your precious disguise is.

Simultaneously shoving the cat his way before rushing to your room, you thankfully strip of your fretfully cold attire, welcomed in the comforting embrace of clean clothing.

A mere five minutes later you exit, greeted by Minho’s stockstill frame. Hand half-raised, evidently about to knock.

You forcefully clear your throat, praying the momentary awkward tension is alleviated.

Luckily, The Alchemist takes it upon himself to break the spell, eyes dancing across the floorboards in order to avoid your own.

“Well, she’s stable. Her vitals are fine, nothing too critical apart from a few cuts here and there. Just shaken up.”

Your stare of astonishment earns a confused tip of his head.

“That fast?”

Said (apparently female) cat rubbing her body along your calf with an obviously delighted purr, you appear nearly concussed, crouching down to pat the soft, striped fur lining her back.

Minho snorts.

“What can I say, I get work done.”

Maybe he is a vampire after all.

Mirroring your crouch, he watches your interaction, similarly feline-like inspection unnoticed till glancing up.

And for a swift moment, you swear he saw through you. Lips parted, eyes scrutinizing. Piecing together the building blocks to a wavering structure you’d strived so hard to build, to protect.

No. You’re overthinking. He couldn’t possibly know.

You failed to notice the forlorn look on his face, one that ushers to ask if you’re okay, fetch a hot beverage to warm your evidently cold hands.

“Might I ask how you ended up bringing this one home?”

Leave it to him to take the title as your greatest ally and worst enemy at the same time.

Ah. Right.

“Y’know I was about to get to that-” 

You pause, deriding the high pitch of your voice into something more appropriate. He cocks a brow.

“As I was saying, it wasn’t my intention to bring her back, but the place she was trapped at, the place with the men- the plants..”

According to his expression, you’ve grown two heads.

…

“Go on.”

“Look, the place I found the Chrysanthemum was having cat fights. Do you remember hearing about the dog fights in Gangwon? It’s the same thing. We can’t just sit still while they’re torturing innocent animals.”

“I don’t know what you got yourself into, but I’m an Alchemist, not a hero,” He sighs, and your hand stalls its petting, face falling while the cat in your lap flicks her tail back and forth expectantly.

He has a point. You got yourself into this, you went into the Greenhouse. It’s not his duty to clean up after your messes, but perhaps you can convince him, even by a small margin.

Play a fools game, earn a fools reward.

You’ll mop the floor of your own mess.

“Minho, please. Just this once and I won’t rope you into anything ever again, okay?” 

Stifling silence making an additional appearance, you nervously await the verdict, perched rather hilariously outside of your bedroom door.

Chewing the skin of his cheek, he scolds himself for falling so susceptible to you, though you won’t ever know that.

“Fine, but you’d better have a plan.”

Ah. Great.

You don’t.

At dawn’s arrival you’re swept upward, fixing a hasty bout of tea and toast prior to dressing in the privacy of your appreciated quarters. 

You don a much-needed hat, hopping aboard the first train of the day with a well-dressed Minho in tow.

Retracing your steps turns out easier than you anticipated, The Alchemist tailing you as you had done him at Port Nova.

Though, just when the task seemed a cake walk, you manage a meager detour, regarding your unimpressed mentor.

“From what I can remember, it’s around here somewhere. But I might be wrong, I stumbled upon it by accident and it looks a bit scary but I think—“

“Stop! Stop- Stop talking. Please.”

You quickly shut your mouth, allowing the man to lead instead till the sight of familiar landmarks becomes a gradual reassurance of your location.

Perhaps now it’s safe to talk.

“Mr. Lee, what did Reiner mean by calling you a champion-“

Shoved against the brick wall, your sentence dies instantly, panickedly glancing in all directions assessing the all too familiar pistol Minho‘s drawn, conspicuous in close proximity. 

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” He enunciates, tone unusually gruff whilst scanning your surroundings.

Your face warms an involuntary pink you clamber to ward off, drawn to the sight of his tense jaw and the feather-like arrangement of long lashes, focused on something elsewhere.

Your retort dies not only from his beauty, but upon the familiar Greenhouse coming into view.

“Looks like we found where your little friends are playing.”

Though, as the man begins forward, you grab him by the sleeve.

“Wait! We can’t just waltz in.”

His hand, slipping from the warmth of his pocket, cups your chin, unbearably close to your face to the point you can feel his breath on your nose. 

Curse the butterflies.

“Well there’s no need for an introduction, so let’s listen this time, shall we?”

Left at a loss for words either from your slack mouth or the concerning amount of sweat building upon your palms, you don’t argue back, lingering right outside the door, craning to hear voices. 

By the sound of it, at least four people are inside at the moment, and the longer you stay out here, the more ample time becomes for additional threats to show up. 

As if reading your mind, he slips through the rugged door, gesturing for you to follow while silently navigating through dense, humid underbrush and overgrown foliage.

However, your quiet voyage is quelled when a twig, unbeknownst to the two of you, cracks under the pressure of his foot. 

“Shit,” He mutters, cringing back at the immediate quietness that ensued.

The Alchemist curses as well.

Interesting.

Amidst the men bearing closer, Minho turns to you, tone urgent. 

“When I get up, you run and free the cats. Don’t look back, just go.”

Nodding hastily, you reacquaint yourself with the area, ensuring a dead set beeline to where the cats were held without interruptions. 

Minho, a split second before you can ask a question, whips the gun from his coat pocket, the sound of bullets whipping through the air enough indication it’s time you go.

Finnicking hands make it hard to unscrew the wired cages, surges of adrenaline helping speed up the rescue as you double check every feline has escaped.

Heeding to instruction, you don’t look for The Alchemist, solely driven to freeing the cats and fleeing the scene. No more problems. 

Almost an exact replica to your last visit here, a hand drags you off right as you exit the Greenhouse doors, back pressed against his (whom you realized was Minho, not Hyunjin, thanks to the leather gloves) front. 

And perhaps from running, perhaps from something else, you can feel his heartbeat, oscillating in a nonstop orchestra that sends your own heart pounding from the confines of your rib cage. 

Stifling a shaky inhale you’d held in as the last of the perpetrators scattered elsewhere, you instantly step back, denying every urge to coddle him like a child, fretfully check him for injury. 

A certain fondness lay reserved for Lee Minho, a fondness you can’t discern of at the moment. 

“C’mon, quick, Soonie might get scared if we’re gone for too long,” He ushers, crashing your tunneling train of thought right off its rails in the process. 

“Yeah-“

You stop.

“Soonie?”

“Yeah, Soonie.”

“You named her?”

“..Yes.”

It’s a genuine struggle hiding your laugh.

“I didn’t find you the type to take in cats.”

“Today you’ve been proven wrong, apparently.”

A sort of giddiness you never experienced fills your chest, wishing nothing more than to look back at the man and swoon. 

How could you not? He was very much dexterous, and attractive without a doubt, that much was known to anyone who laid eyes on The Alchemist.  

Your trek home proved relatively easy, able to skillfully get to the station away from prying eyes and trod along a mixture of gravel and dusty roads without issue.

Silently celebrating your success, you nudge your counterpart's hip, the unimpressed side-eye he grants doing little to dull your happiness.

“Aren’t you an Alchemist? How come you’re oddly good with a gun?”

He clicks his tongue.

“Aren’t you my apprentice? How come you’re getting yourself into trouble when your only instruction was to fetch herbs?”

You conceal a smile he obviously catches, glare failing to quiet your bubbling laughter, his own lips tugging upward.

“It was necessary Mr. Lee! And you know you love Soonie.”

“Unfortunately.”

Nearly a month into her residence, and Soonie has become an effervescent force to be reckoned with. Although initially sassy and wary, she’s transformed into the most affectionate cat you’d ever met.

You have to give it to her, she’s grown on the both of you, a lot.

Plus, you might just have to thank her for unleashing Minho’s tender side, whether that’s the two of them cuddling on the couch while he naps or him picking her up and treating her like a baby while you watch from afar. 

Over the course of the five months you’ve been here, you’ve sent countless checks back home—enough to where dues could finally be paid and the hope for a good life came into view.

Everything seems right, seems ideal. 

But of course, on an equally ideal Thursday evening, a thousand pounds of bricks drops right on top of your head. 

“How long were you planning to keep it from me?” 

He, Lee Minho, The Alchemist, voices.

Simultaneously, your stomach plummets to your feet, peeking over your shoulder to find his back facing you, hunched over a straus flask. 

Then the bomb drops.

“You being a woman, that is.” 

Abruptly pausing, you don’t reply, worried you’d say the wrong thing, unintentionally summon the catalyst to this arising catastrophe. 

Yet, you can’t stay quiet for too long. And a fear lingered inside, a fear that if he looked at you, you would break.

“Forever.” 

Doing just what you dreaded, he turns to you, wearing a horribly serious expression. 

You avoid eye-contact. 

“Because you thought I would fire you?”

A nod. 

“And that’s why you said that, when you first came to me? That you weren’t a woman asking for a job?” 

Another nod. 

He sighs, pulling glasses from atop a hooked nose. You remain staring at the floor.

“I don’t decide who to hire based on what they are. If you can do your job and do it well, you’re worthy enough to work.”

Minho spoke softly, the dim, orange lighting of his lamplight doing little to shake how overwhelming the occasion is, how it feels as if your disguise is wearing, thinning to an impossible degree. 

Except, your world isn’t ending like you thought it would if someone found out, so why do you feel so heartbroken? So overstimulated with realization?

“How did you..” you trail off, raging tears longing to spill. 

No, you can’t afford to cry now. You’ve held out so far, it will stay that way. 

Should stay that way.

Minho dips his head lower in order to fully see you in all your lip-chewing, anxiety-ridden glory. The ghost of a smile rests upon his lips. 

“It was impossible not to tell. You’re unusually tiny, those shoes are massive, and, um, I do the laundry.” 

Watching his once bemused expression dissipate, you mark this as the first time you’ve ever seen him genuinely flustered—and, upon realizing he’d likely seen more than necessary as well, you’re also diminished to a bright red. 

The room wilts in stillness before he exhales, stepping a bit closer to where you linger by the bookshelf, your heels tapping against the frame. 

Tone minimizing itself terribly gentle, The Alchemist carefully collects your cheeks in his hands, urging you to see him, see those terribly thoughtful brown eyes granting a terribly kind disposition. 

“It’s been scary, hasn’t it?” 

Well, you had held out thus far.

Cracking into pieces, you melt like droplets of honey in his fingertips. He perfectly catches them in the jar. 

Out of anyone in this world, you can’t help but be grateful he was the one who found out, found you.

Chest bubbling with breaking sobs, Minho’s thumbs caress your under eyes, swiping away the many salty droplets in their continuous descent. 

Own hands shakily reaching up to hold his resting on your face, you stand there, soaking in his wooded, earthy scent and the soft hums he occasionally emits as if a reminder he’s still there, listening to your cries without intent to leave.

“Mr.. Mr. Lee… It was so scary, I’m so tired Mr. Lee,” You hiccup, mentally berating the endlessly freefalling tears, how your once staved emotions reduced your strong, dutiful voice into nothing but a stuttering mess.

Carefully swiping drool from your chin, he leans forward, planting a kiss on your forehead.

“I don’t know why you did it, but I promise it’ll be okay, we’ll be okay.”

Then another kiss to your forehead, staying there until your sniffling and breathing calms.

Gathering yourself if only slightly, you wrap your arms around his waist, pulling him into a warm hug he gradually accepts after a beat of shock. 

“Thank you, Minho.” 

And just when he thought the shock faded, he’s struck again from the sound of his name leaving your mouth.

Minho. 

Mr. Lee had been charming, but Minho, it was different. A good kind of different. 

He particularly favored the way it sounded falling off your lips, two syllables he’d replay over and over, savoring each a little bit more than the last.

More so, he wished to substitute his nagging thoughts with you, have you narrate the phrases bouncing inside his skull.

Perhaps then everything wouldn’t be so loud, if he had your voice to nullify the battlefield.

Unfortunately forced to separate, Minho adjusts his tie, clearing his throat in a manner you can’t help but feel nervous about. 

You like this flustered Minho.

“I’ll.. I’ll run you a bath.” 

You wince at the rawness of your skin when your face wrinkles in a chuckle.

“Do I smell?” 

Minho, frantically scrambling for an excuse, rubs his temples, exasperation evident in the grooves of his face, the curve and dip of prominent cheekbones portraying a mature visage.

“No I-“ He grumbles. “It helps calm you down.” 

Merely able to halfway staunch your irrevocable glee, you call his name as he begins stepping out, ears an adorable pink.

“Y/N. My name is Y/N. L/N is my last name.”

Not allowing you view of his front-side, you listen to his whispering with delight, testing the newly discovered title on his tongue as if to memorize it.

Ah, you’re falling in love.

Or maybe you’ve already fallen.

Hastily closing the door behind himself and letting you get situated in the bath, it’s not long into your relaxing that you notice a shadow seeping through the door’s crack, a figure standing there, debating.

“Minho?” You announce amusedly, watching the shadow jump and causing you to bite your frothing laugh whilst choosing what to say next. 

“Would you like to join me?”

The Alchemist audibly chokes on his saliva outside the door. 

Sparing a few seconds for him to collect his oxygen, you hadn’t been prepared for when he replies a quiet: “Another time”.

Your eyebrows shoot up with surprise. 

Daring. 

Then his shadow, after furious shuffling, disappears, serving as a reminder of your extended time spent bathing. 

Assembling the copper drain and pulling foreign nightwear over dampened skin, opposed to your usual rush to your room, you allow the chilling air to grant its harsh greeting, leaving the steamy room in its wake.

No more secrets. What a breath of fresh air.

Minho, still cooped up at his desk like routine, barely moves when you place your hands on his shoulders, adorning those charismatic glasses, lips pursed thoughtfully.

“You should go get some rest Mr– Minho,” You beckon, response a sleepy blink of his eyes, obviously exhausted.

“...I really wanted to kiss you.”

The remark drifting off as a murmur, you crane to hear him, wondering if your mind was playing tricks on you. 

“Hm?” Humming, you lightly push his back toward his quarters, the man begrudgingly following your inaudible orders. 

At least he’s cooperating.

Abruptly, he turns around, evading your hands that ease his back forward, sporting a pout adorable enough you might just lose your mind.

How unfair that someone could behave like this and expect you to not go insane.

“When you started crying.” His eyes flicker to your lips, if only for a moment. “I really wanted to kiss you.”

A portion of your stock-still frame wants to blame his tiredness, but another so badly wants it to be true, wants those words to be irrevocably real.

Fighting the urge to scream with how stupidly childish he’s making you feel, you reject every ounce of sensibility, looping one arm around his neck, using your other hand’s index to tug him closer by the belt loop. 

Trust, the feeling is mutual.

Why waste the opportunity?

“What’s stopping you?” 

The utterance barely graces air, and in milliseconds he’s crashing into your lips, a wordless confession it is real, not a mere figment of your imagination.

Stumbling to loosen his tie whilst keeping your faces impossibly connected, you fall deeper and deeper into the manner he tilts his head, expertly diminishing you into puddy in his touch. 

Back and forth, memorizing your taste on his tongue. 

Clumsy footsteps lead to his sofa, your fingers tangled in his dark strands, his kneading your waist.  

And it’s not until your lungs cry for oxygen that you pull apart, Minho’s bottom lip tugged and bitten, yours swollen with his feverish kisses. 

Both of you avidly messy, you can’t bring yourself to care, too busy enjoying the afterglow, his dazed smile.

“Whoever you want to save,” He starts, carefully smoothing over your skin with his thumb . “I will save them, deal?”

Returning that same lazy smile he directs at you, the both of you lean back on the couch, a twine of legs and limbs flailing in every direction.

Close, closer. 

A part of you aches at the thought, blinking up at such a stunning tragedy. Aches knowing you can’t return the favor, can’t say the same, promise him that same promise. 

Because according to the Red Plague, he’s lost that person, those people. So you remain silent, merely hoping one day they’ll receive proper eternal rest. 

That's something you might be able to promise.

Tipping your chin up to where it sits right above his heart, those brilliant eyes of yours blinking up at him do little for his well-being. 

Has anyone told you you’re beautiful? Because he thinks you are, he knows you are. 

Just this once and I won’t rope you into anything ever again, okay?

Minho grins deeper, brows creasing, expression doused in unadulterated adoration. 

“And yet, you rope me into something else,” He whispers to himself. 

“What was that?”  

“Nothing, let’s run another bath. I’ll join you this time, hm?”

FIC TAGLIST. @linocz @foxinnie8 @wonniesverse

sunboki, may 2022 ©

#skz x you #skz x y/n #skz x reader #stray kids fluff #skz fluff #straykids x you #straykids x y/n #straykids x reader #lee minho x y/n #lee minho x you #lee minho x reader #lee minho fluff #leeknow x y/n #leeknow x you #leeknow x reader #leeknow fluff #lee know x y/n #lee know x you #lee know x reader #lee know fluff #lee know angst #leeknow angst #lee minho angst #skz angst #straykids angst #stray kids x y/n #stray kids x you #stray kids x reader #stray kids angst #straykids fluff

[amerricanartwork]

RW Headcanon: How Arti Gives Back

In the RW community on this site, I’ve heard quite a few Artimand thoughts about how Gourmand would help Artificer heal from her trauma and grief. And while that’s all good, something that’s continuously puzzled me when shipping Artimand romantically is, “but how would Artificer help Gourmand?”

Let me tell you, one of my all-time favorite qualities in a ship is the characters helping each other improve themselves, especially in ways no other character pairing can. And while it’s easy to see Gourmand helping Artificer improve, given the vast amount of grief and lust for vengeance she has to overcome, and since Gourmand probably has a natural inclination to help others in need, what would she give to him in return? And to add to that, why would Gourmand fall in love with her and choose her as a mate, as opposed to just casually looking out for her and straight pitying her at worst, especially when she’d most-likely appear very un-qualified for romance initially?

Well, I’ve developed some thoughts and headcanons for that, and I’ll put them below the cut! Please let me know if anything could be improved, or if you can add to it! I’d love more reasons to think of these two sweethearts!

Option 1: Combat

Arti would help Gourmand improve his combat skills. The way I see it, Gourmand is a very strong warrior, but doesn’t often engage in combat simply because he doesn’t see a need for it outside of defense. Even then, due to his kind nature, he typically only fights back enough to deter predators, not kill them. However, with Arti being a carnivore, and having LOTS of experience with more complex combat situations than just defense (mostly from scav encounters), I like to think that Arti would give Gourm more combat tips and they may even end up bonding on occasional hunting trips together. And it would circle back to Arti because Gourm, with his cooking skills, would make the resulting meals from their hunts taste SO much better than what Arti is used to, allowing her to slow down and really enjoy food in a way she hasn’t been able to with her warrior lifestyle!

Option 2: Motherhood

This one’s pretty self-explanatory. Given Arti was a mother once, and Gourmand’s story ends with him getting 2 pups, I could easily see him wanting Arti to stay around to act as a mother for them. Not only would that give her the chance to embrace motherhood again, but it would take some pressure from Gourmand because he has a partner (and an experienced one at that) to help him with parenting! I mean, don’t get me wrong, Gourmand is undoubtedly great with pups, but even so it’s good to have some help! Even more so since (depending on what general age you headcanon the pups as) he’d likely have to leave his pups alone while getting food; it’d be nice to have someone with her own experience caring for pups who can look after them during those times and, to add onto the first option, even help teach them how to hunt and survive on their own!

And heck, I personally actually like to imagine that, a little later, after she gets comfortable enough and fully overcomes her grief, Artificer would actually have a second litter with Gourmand (naratively-speaking, this would signify the completion of her character arc)! Of course it’d be a big deal for Arti, but just imagine how much fun Gourm would have exploring the new experience of getting to raise biological pups this time! And I can just see him being so, so thankful that Arti somehow managed to give him even more family to love!

Option 3: Passion

So this one’s the most personal-headcanon-based, and built off my personal depiction of Gourmand as a character. In my headcanon, Gourmand starts out as a rather reluctant leader of his colony. I have this whole idea of what specific event led to him becoming the leader, but to summarize, it seemed like a very sudden chance event at the time, yet from it he was more-or-less unanimously chosen to lead by the other Outer Expanse slugcats due to him having shown great creativity, survival skills, and protectiveness. Gourmand himself, however, doesn’t really feel he’s fit to be a leader; he’s used to an easygoing life just peacefully surviving and doing his own thing, not managing and defending an entire colony! He’s so used to seeing the simple parts of the world that he often underestimates himself, so something as “grand” as leadership often appears too great for him.

That’s where Arti comes in. I like to imagine that Artificer is extremely passionate, but that for a long time after her pups’ deaths, that passion was manifested almost exclusively as immense rage, grief, and desire for revenge against their killers. But imagine if, once she gets comfortable with Gourmand’s colony, she begins to show that passion in positive emotions! Not only would she, after seeing what he’s capable of in hunts, help him see that he IS the perfect leader for his colony, but just IMAGINE: Arti hyping Gourm up as the biggest, strongest warrior in the Expanse, just before the two prepare to take down a king vulture; or Arti patching him up after a really tough battle and assuring him he’ll be even better next time; or Arti teasing Gourm and them chasing each other around as they spar together in the OE fields; or Arti getting all dramatic as she recites tales of her epic scavenger battles to his eager pups; or Arti showering Gourm with kisses after he makes a REALLY good meal with her favorite meats!  There are SO many possibilities for hypeman Arti, and I figure that, once Gourm sees her fiery spirit used in a positive way, especially to help him and his family, he can’t help but fall for her! And this idea is part of why I like the Spicybun ship name so much - while Gourmand helps Arti mellow out, Arti literally spices up his life! They just compliment each other so perfectly!!

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

MAN do I love these two so much! This is about all I have right now on this subject, but again, I’d LOVE to hear any other ideas for how Artificer would help Gourmand, or additions to these ideas! I just adore the “opposites attract” ship trope (although I personally prefer to call it “inverses attract”), and I think Artimand is easily one of the best examples of that in Rain World! 

Thank you to anyone who made it to the end of this wall of text! And let me know if I should share any more Rain World headcanons, because I’ve definitely got more!

Oh, and if you've found this, @melissa-titanium, hope you like it again! Let me know if you ever want me to stop @-ing you with these Artimand headcanons, by the way!

#art #artwork #sketch #doodle #digital #digital art #fanart #rain world #rw headcanons #shipping #rw shipping #slugcat #rw slugcat #artificer #rw artificer #gourmand #rw gourmand #artimand #rw spicybun #rw barbecue #quetzalli draws #quetzalli pairs #quetzalli headcanons #honestly though girls giving their boys some sweet loving is a fancy of mine for all my favorite ships #i just think arti would be especially passionate about it #in like a “YEEEAAAHHH!! That's my husband!!!” kinda way

[astrologydayz]

SOUTH NODE IN HOUSES - SYNASTRY💘

South Node in partners 1st house makes the house person feel so fucking comfortable. South Node person can help the house person with how to have a healthy, and loyal partnership. House person is alright with South Node person being the leader in the relationship, and feels like South Node is someone they have a deep soul connection with. This placement is meant to have a relationship of some kind, and a very deep one. U left a deep impression on each other in a past life and you're supposed 2 meet one way, or another in this one fam ✨❤️‍🔥.

South Node in partners 2nd house makes the house person feel very possessive over the South Node person, but not in a toxic way. House person feels safe for the first time, and doesn't want anyone to ruin that. Honestly, they were probably together in a past life so house person will do anything they can to protect the South Node, maybe sometimes even do irrational things 2 keep South Node around. But they'll love to be in each others company, and can last a very long time cuz they feel so secure together 👫🌤.

South Node in partners 3rd house makes the house person feel like they met in a past life, or have some unfinished karma to take care of. House person finds it very easy to communicate with the South Node person because they've met before, they could also have been siblings or neighbours in a past life ⭐⭐⭐. House person can also feel a little tense at times, because they think so alike ⚡⚡⚡.

South Node in partners 4th house makes the house person have deep karmic relations 2 the South Node person, can be bad or good tho depending on aspects 😇👿. They have each others back at ANYTIME! against anyone that tries 2 tear them apart. House person feels so connected, that they sometimes even go against their own morals. But they are meant 2 be together, and they're family 🖤. Till death do us apart baby 💋⛓.

South Node in partners 5th house indicates that they were lovers in a past life, maybe even an extramarital affair between the two 👀💍. In this lifetime you've come together 2 do it right, and be together properly. Social events, and parties is ideal 4 u guys. Kids could also have been a big theme in a past life 4 u guys, so no kids could be a big option in this life 💍🥂🍾.

South Node in partners 6th house makes the toxic traits a bit more obvious here, than any other placement. House person could feel like the South Node person owes them something from last life. House person might have the upper hand in this lifetime 🗣💪👀 it also indicates that they will feel like they can't be without each other , so you'll keep coming back together 🙅‍♀️🙅💗.

South Node in partners 7th house means they were tied by death in a past life🤲🪐, and will be together in this one. House person will feel like South Node pushes the house person to change, but 2 change with them and not feel alone while doing so. After they worked their karma out, there's a high chance that they will part ways. South Node helps house person 2 find out who they are, and when they do? all bets are off 🤷‍♀️❤️‍🔥

💔

South Node in partners 8th house means that you guys were probably enemies in a past life, and no we're not talking about petty shit. One of y'all could have killed the other, especially the South Node person 🧐😮‍💨👁, now let's get2 the good shit. House will have been waiting 2 find South Node person for a long time. House person feels like South Node is the only one who can connect with them, soul level indicated 💋💋.

South Node in partners 9th house makes the couple expand every area of their lives, especially when it comes to higher learning, spirituality and long distance travels. They are meant to be each others "guiding star"⭐ in this lifetime, cuz they've healed each other before and will do it again ❗❗❗. House person will feel like South Node person knows best, not because they don't trust their own judgement but because they have so much faith in South Node person<33.

South Node in partners 10th house indicates great business deals and partnerships - u guys helped each other a lot in a past life so naturally you'll do the same in this one 💁‍♀️💸💸💵💵. Could also indicate an arranged marriage by your parents tho 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫. House person may feel like South Node person want to get married, getting started on creating a family quick and things like that. They naturally look good together btw 💅✨✨.

South Node in partners 11th house could be an indication of step kids in this relationship, both or one partner could have kid/s before meeting the other 💜. Your soul contract is 2 finish unfinished business, and start 2 love how fucking nice it is that y'all are different. You met in a past life, and probably didn't like each other 😭🤣, but in this lifetime you'll learn how to love each other and come together when things get rocky 🦾🖤.

South Node in partners 12th house is a deep soul contract/karma that these two have. One can end up with a deep soul connection, or a deep heartbreaking experience with no understanding of what was really going on 👿🥺. South Node could take advantage and use the house person, 4 their own personal gain! but look at the aspects 2 c which way it will go babe<333.

THANKS4READING BABE💜

APPRECIATE U, ALWAYS!

#south node #astrology notes #astro community #astrology #synastry #astrology observations #astro notes #astro observations

[soleminisanction]

I've always really liked DC's in-house choice of referring to their various superhero groupings as "families," but it has gotten a little frustrating recently with people both in canon and in fandom seeming to forget that families aren't just a parental-unit-and-kids formation. They're complicated, and a lot of the DC families are too messy to fit into that neat little nuclear family mode.

Which is to say... here's some scattered thoughts/summaries about how these families are actually structured in canon, because I think it's interesting:

Supers -- The smaller, more traditional Superfamily (Clark, Lois, Kara, Kon, etc.) is a pretty traditional Midwestern nuclear family, with Jimmy Olsen filling the role of close family friend/goofy neighbor sidekick (in the Silver Age, he was Kara's would-be suitor) and Steel feeling more like part of Clark's personal circle of friends. The recent line up, though, with Jon, the twins, Kong and Nat? Starts to feel more like some old dynasty or noble house, complete with fostered foundlings and the Steels acting almost like knights under a noble's banner, possibly reflective of what the House of El would have been on Krypton.

Arrows -- Might currently be the closet to a traditional nuclear family structure. You've got Ollie and Dinah, their younger sisters, Ollie's adopted and biological children, and Ollie's granddaughter through Roy, plus by some counts Roy's co-parent and her sister as "in-laws." Bonnie and Cissie King-Jones are adjacent to but not technically "part" of the family, though I believe it's implied at one point that Ollie might also be Cissie's bio-dad. Pretty straightforward, these guys are actually family and they act like it, for good and ill.

Shazam Family -- Also a literal, actual family. Not originally, the original golden age "Marvel Family" was considerably more complicated and only Billy and Mary were full siblings, but nowadays the whole point of the modern Shazam family is that they're foster siblings united by familial love and that's fantastic. Meanwhile your average Black Adam story is 75% angsty family drama, 25% Egyptian mythology references.

Flashes -- Technically closer to three nuclear families (the Allens, the Wests and the Garricks; four if you include the Quicks), two of whom are united by marriage and all of whom are bound by the Speedforce, which, given its semi-spiritual connections to things like Speedster afterlives, can act almost like a religious force that connects them to the additional members like Avery, Circuit Breaker and Max as Bart's foster-dad. They're a big, sprawling tree with more cousins than siblings, the kind of family that functionally has a reunion every Christmas and Thanksgiving.

Lanterns -- Now these guys are the exception that proves my point about the whole 'family' thing not being straightforward. The lanterns aren't a family, they're a corps. Soldiers. Space cops. Comrades-in-arms. They respect each other, have each other's backs, might even like or care about each other, but those last two are optional, and they don't have the same kind of assumed obligations towards each other that a family would have. They're friends and co-workers, not family, but that doesn't mean their relationships are less significant, they're just different.

Wonders -- Roughly half of them are either one of Hippolyta's daughters (Diana, Donna, Nubia pre-Crisis) or related to them through the gods (Cassie), and the other half (Artemis, Yara, modern-age Nubia) use sister as a term of endearment more in a utopian lesbian commune kind of way. I think they brought Steve Trevor back recently? He's basically the Ken in this equation and perfectly fine with that role. None of which should be surprising if you've seen Professor Marston and the Wonder Women.

Bats -- This is the one that people get really wrong when they try to force it into a traditional family structure. Don't let WFA fool you, the Bats are and have always been way more a snarled mess of tangled interpersonal relationships than they've ever been a cohesive family. Whether Dick is Bruce's son or his brother depends on what era you're talking about, and the former reading is much more recent than you think -- as in "started cropping up in the early 2000s" recent. Barbara is both Cassandra's sister and her mother. Duke and Steph both have living parents and neither of them want or would ever dream of treating Bruce like their dad; Tim was the same way until his dad died. None of the Robins ever lived in the mansion together, nor did Cass. Babs considered Jean-Paul Valley her brother and Huntress is so close to Tim she once hallucinated him calling her Big Sister. They're a beautiful mess of people finding places where their broken edges fit together into something that works for them and trying to reduce it down to a cozy nuclear family is just so goddamn reductive and lazy.

Blue Beetles -- Are only tangentially related to each other. Seriously, they never even get direct mentoring, each one just takes over when the previous one dies and works on completely different rules from the other two. They're complete strangers bound by a legacy and that's honestly pretty fun.

Zataras -- There's only three of them and they're literally a father, daughter and cousin.

Martians -- Not really a family because there's only the two of them, but an interesting case where the two survivors of what was functionally a war of mutually assured destruction came together in an attempt to find some peace in the aftermath of what they'd lost.

Titans -- The JLA and JSA aren't really in the "family" category, but the Titans lean into it hard, mostly because they're a textbook found family. They don't mirror a nuclear family structure, they're simply a group of people who came together to form a mutual support network. They're the idealized college friends you grew into your own with, some of them childhood companions and others you only met once you leave home for the first time, but all of them friends that you manage to maintain contact with for life, with everyone coming back together even as you scatter and do your own things.

Young Justice -- Meanwhile, this team is the chaotic group of misfits you hung out with when you were a teenager, especially when you were just starting to be allowed to act without adult supervision. You drive each other crazy, none of you know you're all queer as fuck, and you'd fight a bear for any of them even if they asked you not to. They'd probably be insulted if you tried to call them a family. They come out here to get away from their families, thank you very much.

#dc comics #meta #batfamily #super family #arrow family #flash family #wonder women #shazam family #batman #superman #wonder woman #green lantern #teen titans #young justice #kinda rambling #just kinda throwing some ideas together #families of choice #non-traditional families

[itssimplythesims]

"Out in the Yard" Mini outdoor deco set

–by itssimplythesims for TS3

The poll winner from a few weeks back was indoor/outdoor decor 🏡and with the warmer weather we're having, I thought I'd convert a few things for the yard since we'll be spending a little more time outside, like hanging out with family on the patio, splashing around in the pool, or building in the sandbox with Ryan's two toddlers. 🤭

This set is a little bit of a mishmash but I found the outdoor storage bin first–the details are super nice–and then just started tacking on a few things that I thought might look nice out in...well, the yard!

Please reblog so more people can enjoy these! 🫶

Support my content! | Get the goods!

Details below! ↓

Tech Specs

For TS3

Package format | $5 | Found in Sculptures

Decor only | Not functional

Original creator credit can be found in each object's description

Everything is less than 10k polys except for the chair (~11k was the best I could do without losing integrity)

TOU | Creative Commons

OK to convert to other games.

‼️No paywalls. Must have a free option with immediate access‼️ because my creations and conversions are under the Creative Commons license and/or are paid for by me for the whole community to enjoy.

OK to include in lots or uploads.

OK to retexture, clone, or modify.

Please give me a shoutout if you use or convert them! 💗

If you like these, DM me with ideas if you'd like more backyard goodies. 😁 (I was thinking maybe garages could use some love, too...?)

@katsujiiccfinds @pis3update @kpccfinds 🫶

#ts3cc #sims 3 cc #ts3 decor #sims 3 #ts3 #the sims 3 #simblr #ts3 simblr #sims 3 simblr #sims 3 blog #sims 3 download #the sims #the sims community #the sims screenshots #itssimplycc #s3ccfinds #ts3cc download #ts3 cc finds #sims3cc #the sims 3 cc

[tsublue]

10th house ruler in ASTROLOGY and what your career could be☤

This can be used with any type of chart, mostly whole sign.

picture credits: Pinterest

I would absolutely love to know your thoughts in the comments!

10th house ruler in 1st house

Your career possibly has a lot to do with your appearance and personality. You like to be the leader and lead others in your workplace. You might have had a feeling like your career has to or already defines you and it can sometimes even become your personality in some cases.

10th house ruler in 2nd house

You would like to have a job that pays well and is your calling. You can possibly have a passion for food related careers. You have a deep and true need to be financially stable as well as doing something you enjoy. You also can enjoy a comfortable workspace, as in whatever the meaning is to you.

10th house ruler in 3rd house

You could possibly change your workplace or a job many times in your lifetime which is never a bad thing, you don’t fear experimenting and seeing what you like and don’t like. Having a journal with you is not a bad idea. You need a job where you can be creative and express your feelings such as design or writing and etc. Communicational job can also benefit you a lot.

10th house ruler in 4th house

You suit a job that can be done at home or in some cases in an office. You could also be a stay at home mom in some cases. You do not crave to be in so seen at your job and like something peaceful and fulfilling.

10th house ruler in 5th house

You need a career that you truly enjoy, a really great tip is for an example: If you really enjoy skateboarding. You can make it your career as in making videos about it or having a tv show about it. The possibilities are endless and that’s what’s impressive about you. You also do not really fear to be seen by the public.

10th house ruler in 6th house

You like to be in the service. You do not fear 9-5 jobs and stuff that can be seen as “boring” in some people’s eyes. You also can possibly benefit from a job in the outdoors. Your health can also play a big role in your career. You like to help others and this could also lead you into customer service or to become a therapist.

10th house ruler in 7th house

You need coworkers in your workplace. Team work and cooperation is key to your ideal career. This is also a pretty good placement for business owners. You could possibly achieve a high standing career and work as help such as for an example: a wedding planner (helping a couple get married) or a lawyer (helping people with the law).

10th house ruler in 8th house

You would like to do something intimidating as your career. It could be a little off for others, but fun for you. You also can have really good investigation skills so don’t let that go to waste. You also thrive to have or in a private workspace or kept private job. The 8th house revolves around death and spirituality, so there are endless options that can fulfill your ideal career.

10th house ruler in 9th house

You are a wild child. Obviously your career involves travel and movement, so that can indicate a job in a different city, state or a country. Or even your career would be around traveling. You also do an excellent job at teaching and guiding which can fulfill your perfect idea of a career.

10th house ruler in 10th house

Your career will be put into the public eye. You’re really dedicated to it and probably have been doing it your whole life as in for an example being a theatre kid and becoming an actor as your career. You really worry about your reputation a big part of your time. You are possibly the most wealthiest in your workplace and can gain a lot of haters for almost anything you do due to jealousy. Also being a leader is a part of your career.

10th house ruler in 11th house

Your career can involve electronics and even friendships. You could start a business with your friends or do something completely different from your family and friends. Your career can be really creative. Your job can also involve an audience and give you lots of social connections.

10th house ruler in 12th house

You might’ve never really fully put thought into your career or you really can’t fully come up what you truly would like to do as your job. You just like to hang there and probably are the one amongst your surroundings who has no idea what to do when everyone has clear goals. You may walk in your superiors footsteps. Also charity and helping work is not the worst idea and could possibly fulfill you alongside spiritual themed career.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

I’ve really been in a slump, but it feels good to be back and writing the new posts.

I truly hope you enjoy this post and that you beyond if you made it to the end.

I would love to know what your 10th house ruler is in!

Always love, Tsunami

!! Please do not:

repost, re-word, copy, steal, etc my posts. If you want to use some aspects of them, then please ask for permission first and always give credits. Thank you.

#astrology #10thhouseruler

#astrology #astrological observations #birth chart #birth chart readings #asteroids #astro community #aspects #asteroid #astrodienst #astrological #aries sign #taurus #gemini #leo #virgo #cancer astrology #libra #scorpio #sagittarius #capricorn #aquarius #pisces #10th house #the lord ruler #ruler #midheaven #house rulers astrology #career #personal observations #astro posts

[eddiemunsons-missingnipple]

Firefighter!Eddie Munson x reader

Warnings: none, fluff

~ Been thinking about Eddie as a fire fighter after watching 9-1-1

Not proofread

Eddie never had any real desire to get into this type of profession. The thought never even crossed his mind. After he got into some trouble with police. the judge gave him two options to pick from, which were. Spend a few months behind bars or community service.

After a while, he ended up failing in love with it. He very much liked uniform and riding around in that big truck. He loved helping people. He figured out that was his true calling. He's been caught in some very life-threatening situations. For the part most, he's getting calls for various things. Usually, they're just false alarms, or some kid got their head stuck in something.

Eddie's saved cats from trees and families from their burning homes. Every day, he goes home smelling like smoke. Eddie wouldn't trade this life for anything else. Not to mention, most of the town laid off his ass too. That was a big plus. No more harassment or being threatened.

His department got a call like normal early that morning. For a small house fire that got a little out of control. Eddie rushed with the rest of his squad and got his uniform on, hopping in the truck.

By the time they got their the fire was pretty much put out thanks to you. Your neighbor was in her eighties, and her cat had knocked her candle off the table. The fire lit up her shaggy curtains in an instant.

The entire squad rushed into her apartment anyway to inspect everything just to make sure it was safe. Eddie went in but came back out to talk to you.

"You put out the fire?" He walked up, taking his helmet off. His uniform stained in old soot. E. Munson was patched on his jacket at the bottom.

You had just helped the paramedics take away your neighbor. She had asked you to watch over her cat for the night. Which you happily agreed to.

You turn around. "Oh, uhh yeah, I did-."

"That could have gotten real ugly next time. Just leave and let us handle it." He walked a little closer. His tone wasn't rude, but it wasn't too friendly at first either.

You nodded, knowing he was right after all. That fire could have gotten really bad very fast. "Hopefully, there won't be a next time."

He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck."So you live here long?" Eddie's tone changed to more a friendly one.

His eyes squinted a little as the sun beamed down on him.

You smile and begin to walk away, "Two years."

"Two years? Wow, we get calls here all the time, and this is my first time seeing you." He recalled raising his eyebrows.

Eddie has been called to this apartment building more than he can recall. He knows the people and the building like the back of his hand. One time, it was for a kid who stuck marbles up his nose. The others were for little none dangerous things. But he definitely should have remembered a face like yours by now.

You slowly side by side, "good or bad?"

He stopped walking, and a smirk played on his lips, "I guess in this type of circumstance good."

"So I should start calling for any tiny minor inconvenience?" You turned to face him.

He was about to say something else but was cut off when another fireman yelled for him. "Eddie! It's all clear!"

You watched him throw a thumbs up and look back at you. The sun, his eyes, made his brown eyes almost glow. His hair was tied in a low bun, and he had slight stumble. You noticed a tattoo on his neck peaking out from the collar of his jacket.

He chuckled and went back to your conversation, "If I got to see that pretty face, I think I can let it slide."

Your felt your face get hot, and you cleared your throat. "I bet you would."

Eddie looked down at his hands, taking his gloves off, revealing a few fades scars more tattoos. His voice got a little low, "are you by chance single?"

"I am." You eyed him curiously. "Why do you ask?"

"Jus' wanted to go on one little date." He shrugged.

"Only one?" You questioned. You didn't want to sound offended, but why one date?

"Oh yeah, only need one to convince you in seeing me again." He kept his tone playful and light-hearted.

Eddie can tell he probably insulted you. He definitely didn't want to do that. He was just trying to be flirty.

"You think you can win me over with one little date?" You crossed your arms over your chest.

He stepped closer to you. "Oh, absolutely." His demeanor full of confidence. he was so sure he could woo you into as many dates as you wanted.

"Fine, we'll see if you're right then, Eddie." You bit your cheek trying not to laugh. You took what he said as a challenge. You also won't deny you did like him. You only met him an hour ago. For such short interaction, you felt drawn to him. He this twinkle in his eye that made you want to get to know him.

You and Eddie exchange numbers before you watched him hop back into that big firetruck parked out. He sat in the front seat with an arm hanging out the window. You couldn't look away. You saw him tip his helmet toward you as they pulled off and back to the station.

You hope your first date goes well because you're already planning the second one.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #joseph quinn #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things #firefighter!Eddie #eddie munson x reader fluff #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #scheduled post

[eruminx]

what the adult trio needs to be fulfilled in a relationship

hisoka needs...

- sex, excitement, and attention LMAO

- bro needs a round daily, he cant remember a day in his life where he hasn't came at least once

- except for maybe infancy and young childhood

- he's too horny for his own good

- needs to be your number one priority

- whether ur his number one doesn't matter

- you need to be ready to give him attention whenever he wants it

- unless he was trying to get a reaction out of you, he wouldn't ignore you because he understands the desire for attention

- but expect him to ghost you every now and then

- that doesn't mean he's not watching you, because he totally is

- he picked up a few trick from illumi lol

- and it's almost never personal

- buttttt, if you manage to trick him into opening up the ghosting and obsessive stalking would become more frequent

- he'd want to know more of your weaknesses than you know of his

- in a way, he does like to feel weak, only because it turns him on though

- if you manage to keep him excited and hold his attention for long enough, he'll get attached

- he'll be your dog LOL

- surprisingly loyal if the relationship is serious and you guys have known each other for multiple years

- simply because he knows he can count on you

- but he's not sexually monogamous, and doesn't super care if you are

- only allows one night stands tho

- would kill the person if they tried to continue anything

- and would bring you their head

- like when your cat kills a bird and then brings it to you cuz it's so proud of itself

- that's just his way of showing u how much he loves u LMFAO

illumi needs...

- control, submission, and patience

- he's a total control freak. classic manipulator shit too

- uses text book manipulation when you disagree with him so if you catch on it's not really a problem

- lacks a lot of understanding of emotional needs and empathy so you need to be patient and explain everything to him

- or else he'll be like "why are you crying? your grandma died? that isn't something worth crying over."

- he never ghosts you

- ignores you only if he's really really pissed

- you must always be in a close radius, you're never out of his sight

- of course he requires all your attention, you are his number one and he expects to be your number one

- you go on missions with him, and if you don't it's because you're at the Zoldyck mansion or smth

- you are always in his grasp

- youre his doll, ok?

- if you guys aren't married yet, he doesn't think you two are are "dating" he just thinks you guys are engaged with no ring yet

- is 100% monogamous, and if you aren't he will make you be monogamous

- will kill anyone who looks at you in a way he doesn't like so it's not like u have an option

- yes he loves his family but he loves you a little more

- if you were somehow able to convince him to run away with you he would come along

- deep down he just wants love and if you love him that's all he really needs

- luckily he's not very socially knowledgeable

- it would be very time consuming, not impossible, but it would take a great amount of effort (esp with kikyo smh)

- doesn't really like physical touch at first but trust me that man needs a hug.

chrollo needs....

- commitment, intelligence, and a fairytale love

- would never admit it sober

- but he's a total hopeless romantic

- he just desires for a true connection

- like one where you guys are literally meant for each other and no one else

- someone perfect for him

- one where you understand each other well, you don't even need to communicate you just get each other

- he does need communication as well

- he's gone his whole life feeling like everything is temporary, and he just wants something that is forever

- wants to grow old together

- needs your 100% commitment

- doesn't ghost you exactly, but he does disappear for periods of time

- he'll tell you that it's a work trip but won't specify, even if you already know about the phantom troupe

- he'll be gone from two weeks anywhere to five months.

- but would never leave you hanging

- he'd send you stuff and text you everyday

- wants you to devote yourself to him

- at first he'll make you think he's devoted himself to you, but eventually he will come around and start to be more serious after a year or two passes

- bro doesn't want to be talking to a wall

- so you actually need to be capable of conversation and complicated discussion

- would form a book club

- by that i mean it's just you two and you read the same book to be able to discuss it passionately

- he is very passionate in many ways

- also you are to stay out of troupe business no matter what

thank you for reading and supporting me :) - eru

#hisoka x reader #chrollo x reader #illumi x reader #hisoka hcs #chrollo hcs #illumi hcs #adult trio #adult trio hcs #adult trio x reader #hisoka hc #chrollo hc #illumi hc #hxh #hxh x reader #hunter x hunter #fanfic #headcanon

[whateversawesome]

Chapter 93: Stellas, Tonitrus and Another Desmond

First of all, congratulations to our girl for getting another stella (her first academic achievement stella too!) Good for you, Anya!!

Anya also got a tonitrus bolt, but who cares about that 😆 Oh yeah, I know who does...

Congratulations also to Twilight for not losing it. Good for you, Twilight...you're learning how to be a good dad. Hey, did you notice he didn't even try to look at the results before time?

Look at that baby's face 💕 Positive reinforcement and encouragement work wonders! Still, I hope one day, Anya realizes her papa loves her no matter what.

It was one hell of a chapter, don't you think?

Let me get this out of the way: the more I know the people around Donovan Desmond, the less I like him. Even though we know very little about this man, it looks like his relationship with his family has destabilized his wife and son's mental health and general wellbeing.

So, here are my thoughts:

Demetrius

He looks like a kid who was pushed too hard to study and was taught nothing else. Yeah, he may be a stella-earning machine, but he lacks a balance, like the ability to communicate and understand other people. If anything, he seemed overwhelmed by a simple interaction with a some kids.

I'm guessing his classmates see him like an unapproachable person and he is probably a loner. He doesn't seem close to his brother either and I'm going to guess he's not close to Melinda. I suspect his dad "took him under his wing" since he was very young and made him that way.

Why couldn't Anya read his thoughts?

At the moment, I don't think he was experimented on. In my opinion, this boy's only thoughts are about studying, earning stellas, and not being able to understand people. All courtesy of...

Donovan Desmond

It looks like Donovan did spend a lot of time with Demetrius when he was young. The purpose is still not very clear to me, but this looks fishy. Either he sincerely wanted his son to do well in school or there was a reason Donovan Desmond wanted to be inside those imperial scholar social gatherings.

My gut tells me it's the second option. Why?...

I believe Donovan was Prime Minister or close to being Prime Minister back then. Why would a busy politician like him spend his time making sure his son did well in school? Something doesn't add up.

In the present, Donovan is basically a recluse and the only events he attends are those imperial scholar gatherings. If Desmond was a good dad, it would be understandable for him to support his son, even if he didn't participate in politics anymore. But that's the thing; Donovan Desmond is not a good, supportive dad. Demetrius said it himself: his dad is not in contact with him. Meaning, there must be an ulterior motive for him to attend to those social gatherings.

My guess is that he used his son. And since he already has access to those meetings, he doesn't need to communicate with his eldest son anymore or to have a relationship with his youngest either.

Talking about the youngest Desmond...

Damian

Damian and Anya had a rocky start, but as the story advances, it's obvious Damian is a sweet boy, who seems so...abandoned.

Damian is the kind of kid who thinks he has to earn his parents' love (especially his dad's). That's horrible. That love should be unconditional.

However, after meeting Melinda and now Demetrius, I can confidently say he's better off at school. Because of this, I'm thinking that it was Melinda the one who insisted on Damian staying at Eden.

Damian probably thought that in order for his dad to spend time with him, he needed to be like his brother, meaning a stella-earning machine. That's why those stellas are so important to him. And let me say that it's remarkable that Damian is earning stellas without any help from his parents or anyone else (like Demetrius in the past and Anya in the present.)

Now I see that part of his character arc could be for him to realize he doesn't have to be like his brother and he doesn't need his father's approval either.

Can you see the difference his friends make in Damian's life? His friends, including Anya, are helping become a different person than his brother. They're helping him realize he doesn't have to behave "like a Desmond" only, that it's okay to behave like a kid too.

Maybe that's why his mom wants him to be friends with Anya. She's a good influence on him.

It will be interesting to see if Damian's relationship with Demetrius changes over time. I would like to see that because Damian craves a relationship with his family. In my opinion, Melinda does love his youngest son (we don't know how she feels about Demetrius), but there's a reason why she won't go near him. At some point, we'll find out that reason.

Twilight and Anya

Just like Desmond, Twilight needs to get into those imperial scholar gatherings. That's why Anya needs to get those stellas. We could argue he's also using Anya like Donovan used Demetrius, but there are a few key differences:

1.Anya knows and is helping him willingly, because she knows her papa's purpose: to keep peace (and make a world where children don't have to cry).

2.The way Twilight encourages Anya earn those stellas. Yes, he makes her study (helps her too), like any parent would, but he also lets Anya be herself! Twilight wants Anya to have a balanced life, to have friends, to have fun, to play, to watch TV, to go on outings and even travel as a family.

He's not forcing her to study 24/7 so she turns into a stella-earning machine, because he knows there's more to life than stellas and good grades and because he wants the best for his child, over his mission (even when he's not ready to admit that).

3.This whole thing is transforming him. Unlike Desmond, Twilight is becoming more human. He no longer serves his own purpose (even if that purpose is for peace). Now, he's a father and has to put his daughter's wellbeing first.

Do you need proof?

Here, Twilight asked the question we've all been dying to ask.

As a spy, he would have pushed his daughter to remember her past so she would answer the question. But instead...

He realized those memories could be painful and didn't want his daughter to think about that, so he just tells her to forget about it...Why? Because Anya's past doesn't matter. Even when it could be advantageous for his mission, he chooses to let it go for his daughter's sake and because she already has a family with Yor, Bond, and him.

Donovan and Damian

I wonder if at some point Donovan Desmond will try to use Damian for his own purpose. If that happens, I'm sure Damian won't turn his dad down, he'll be happy his father finally acknowledges him and will be happy to spend time with him.

My gut has been screaming that Damian and Donovan are a foil of [Redacted] and his dad. And not only that...Remember when that awful man made Anya cry during the Eden Interview and Twilight lost it? I suspect the relationship between Damian and Donovan Desmond could be a big trigger for Mr. Spy.

Since most of the characters in SxF are morally gray, I suspect Donovan Desmond will be the same. Maybe he'll turn out to be a good leader who wants the best for his country and wants to prevent the war, but at the same time is an abusive husband and father.

Would Twilight be okay with that now that he is a father and a husband himself?

At some point, Twilight will probably have to choose between his family and his mission and Donovan Desmond is his mission...🤔

#spy x family #loid forger #anya forger #spy x family manga #twiyor #damianya #demetrius desmond #damian desmond #donovan desmond #sxf

[roturo]

BITE ME

summary: being a vampire hunter wasn't easy, and it became rougher when you encountered a cute tall white-haired vampire that would change up your opinions about them

warnings: smut, blood, vampire!gojo x vampire hunter!reader, sub!gojo, dacryphilia, gojo cries during sex lmao, kinda rushed, piv, unprotected sex, overstimulation, kinda fucked dumb tbh, blood lust, like it was love at first sight yass, no one is in their right mind, just horny tbh, loved this idea, maybe oc gojo idk, bc he's such a cutie pie here, aghdhsagbdy this is cute that im even surprised, never wrote for sub!gojo but idk, enjoy.

TUMBLR IS BASED ON A REBLOG SYSTEM. PLEASE REBLOG MY WORK.

Since little you were taught many things, but the most important one is to always hate vampires.

Living in a community divided by unnatural human beings and well, humans, made society enter into a conflict if both kinds of communities should mix. 

Your family was a well known vampire hunter, you lived in a forest far away from the city where most of the vampires usually exist between humans. Being a medical student made you learn a lot about the species that killed your dad. So being a recognized ‘vampire hunter’ wasn’t such a good thing.

Maybe that’s why you couldn’t stand being near them, nor living with them. That’s why when you had a vampire as a patient (who are most of the time the ½ vampires) you made sure of learning all about them, learning how to defend yourself from them, and even might kill them.

You have a specific freezer for human blood and some samples of whatever type of blood vampires have. Spending most of the time examining the different types of cells and differences from the human blood.

And that’s the thing. Having human blood and being alone in the middle of nowhere is not the safest option to avoid vampires.

Gojo Satoru is a well respected young vampire, not by his ancestors though, since he decided to live more of a ‘pacific lifestyle.’ Humans had this thing where vampires couldn’t feed themselves with human blood. At this rate he doesn’t know if the new generations are good for everyone or just for humans, and do not even dare to talk about animal blood, that’s disgusting. 

But when he has the chance of drinking human blood, I'm telling you, this man becomes insatiable. Maybe that’s why society invented other types of supplements for vampires. But coming from a lofty clan, he couldn’t live from those disgusting things human called ‘’food’’

And well... when he saw this cute lady coming out from the hospital with a case full of blood bags (thanks to his supernatural power to identify the delectable human blood on his own) he couldn’t resist himself from following you until you got home.

Please let it be possible that vampires can be knocked out, you thought. You couldn't believe a vampire was standing right infront of your freezer looking for something. With all of the strength you could muster up, you swung the pan down right on his head, no doubt strong enough to give anyone a major concussion. Immediately, he fell to the ground, as lifeless as he wouldn’t be if he wasn’t a vampire.

“Holy shit…” You breathed out, shoulders high and tense. Looking down at him, you noticed how young he looked, and in all honesty, he didn’t look threatening at all. You felt a tinge of worry, wondering if he wasn’t a vampire after all, and you might’ve just killed him.

So that’s how you find yourself here and how you might met the love of your life.

Edging closer to the man, you bent down to see if he was breathing. He was completely still. That didn’t tell you much, though, as he could be dead or…the undead.

Thank god you had a basement here, especially if anything like this happened. I guess following your dad's steps really helped you out. Which was why it was the best place to drag the vampire into. Maybe you could keep him in there and question him on how the hell he got into your house, and at the same time, you could keep him at a safe distance from yourself.

He was much heavier than you thought he was, but you guessed that came from his height. He was still unconscious but you guessed that it wouldn’t be for long. Suddenly, two large hands grabbed the rusted metal bars from inside of the room and you screamed as his face had come into view like a jump scare.

“Get me out.”

You backed up from the window as far as you could, going to the other side of the room. You didn’t know why you were so scared, mainly because he was behind a locked door. You guessed that despite whatever vampire strength he had, he couldn’t get himself out.

Maybe it’s the hit on his head still playing games? The metal bars your dad gave you for this?

“What are you doing? Let me out!” He frowned. “Why did you put me in here?”

“W-why are you in my house?” You asked him. He didn’t say anything for a second.

‘’Ah.. shit.’’ Right, the blood bags. “Bitch, I was hungry!” He yelled back, making you recoil. Did he just call you a bitch? “That’s why I’m here, because I was hungry and I thought that maybe I could steal some of the blood bags you have.’’

‘‘Have you been stalking me?!’’ How does this vampire know about the blood bags?!

‘‘Uh-... no?... Yes.’’

You sighed. “Do you have anywhere else to go?”

“No…not really.” He said as if he was embarrassed. “I decided to drop out of college when I turned, so I can’t go back on campus.”

 “You can stay here if you want.” You didn’t exactly feel sure about him staying here, but he might help you with your research. He’s still a vampire after all… he’s a threat. But fuck it, that's how you learn new things. You asked for his name after you told yours.

‘‘Okay… Gojo Satoru. But you have to stay in there for a while, until I trust you.’’

“What about when I’m hungry?” He asked.

“I’ll figure that out’’

“What about when I’m lonely?”

“...’’

The faint sound of Gojo calling in your name woke you up. 

“What the fuck…?” You frowned, squinted eyes getting used to the sunlight. “Oh my fucking gosh.” You quickly got up from your bed, putting on your slippers, and stumbling out of your room, barely able to walk in a straight line. You stomped your way down two flights of stairs until you were met with Gojo holding on to the bars again. “What?!”

“Hi.” He greeted you. “It’s tomorrow, right? I can’t really tell since I’ve been locked in a basement of a dungeon with no light. But if it’s tomorrow, can I have a blood bag? It’s been weeks since I’ve eaten.’’

‘‘And why haven’t you eaten? There’s literal stores for you, vampires!’’

‘‘Ah.. well… I don’t like those.’’

‘‘What?...’’ You looked at him in disbelief for a few seconds. “You woke me up at 7 in the morning for a blood bag?”

“In my defense, I didn’t know it was 7.” He shrugged. You opened up the door of the cell, walking up the stairs, still tired from waking up only ten minutes ago. You heard him follow you, steps surprisingly light for someone as tall as he was.

He started looking around your house, kinda creepy for a vampire if you keep looking at weapons for them.

‘‘Um.. Are you a vampire hunter?’’

‘‘Yes.’’

He chuckled at your answer and sat on top of the table. ‘Why? Weren’t they banned like years ago? Humans even live with vampires, that’s silly from you.’’

‘‘Maybe I wouldn’t be silly if your kind didn’t killed my dad.’’

.... Shit. Maybe you shouldn't have said that.

‘‘Oh... I’m sorry.’’

You sighed, he didn’t mean it in a bad way, he shouldn’t receive this type of behavior from you.

‘‘It 's… okay. I’m not a vampire hunter like it, i’m more like a vampire examinator?’’ Well, you didn’t even think about that one before, if you didn’t want to kill vampires why are you doing this?

You handed him a blood bag from the freezer, watching his eyes light up made you slightly smile, he’s kinda cute. You woke up from your trance and slightly shook your head away from those thoughts.

“Remember not to rip it open and spill it.” You said. “Especially not on these old floors, it’ll soak right in.”

“Oh…right.” He said, twisting open the nozzle and drinking from there. You watched him down it in less than thirty seconds, his brows furrowed in concentration. After he was done, he set it down on the counter.

‘‘Uh.. Can I stay again tonight?... I can sleep on the floor again!’’

....

One night turned into two nights, and two nights turned into a week, and a week, turned into a month.

You found yourself smiling at him, not noticing how used to him you’ve gotten. He was very peculiar in the least, but you guessed that was mainly because of him being a vampire. You found yourself wondering what he was like when he was a human. It was weird to know that the two of you were always in such close proximity without knowing it. Maybe it was fate. You snapped back into reality once he smiled at you, and you didn’t even think to return the smile. Instead, you looked down at your hands, picking at your nails as if you were busy. Honestly, you were embarrassed to get caught looking at the handsome vampire with boyish charm.

“Y'know…you’ve been holding out really well, so far.” You told him. “You have even helped me with my researches, nothing that I didn’t knew about, but still helped me confirm me”

He turned to look at you. “Really?” He asked, eyes brightening up a little.

“Really.” You nodded with a smile, and he lazily smiled back. “So, I’ve decided to give you a little present.”

“A present? What is it?” He asked curiously, words muffled by the fact that he was still entranced by the tv and some vampire supplement you bought for him 

“Guess.” You told him, feeling a bit mischievous. “I’ll give you a hint. It’s almost like…Why did we meet in the first place.”

“Hm?” He tilted his head to the side. “I’ve never hit you with a pan though? Or have I?” He furrowed his eyebrows in thought.

You rolled your eyes. “Don’t think too hard, you even called me bitch for it’’

“But I really can’t think of anything?” He said. “Can you just give me it? I’m not good at this guessing game…”

“Satoru…” You sighed, something was happening to you, on him... leaned towards him, softly caressing his cheek and giving him a small peck. That wasn’t the surprise, and you were as surprised as him when you did that. It’s just that his eyes looked so beautiful, his messy hair covering his forehead, and his cheeky smile while watching some shitty show on the tv... He froze in surprise, enough to not be able to kiss you back. 

“Oh…” He chuckled nervously, and you swore something on him changed the moment he looked right into your eyes again. “Can you maybe do it again?” He asked.

You responded with another kiss, one that he had returned this time, except for more fervor. It was like he was waiting to kiss you, dreaming about your lips on his. Did this mean…that you felt the same? Were you as infatuated with him as he was to you? He doubted that it was possible. All without you knowing, he might’ve fallen in love. Falling in love with a vampire, what they trained you hate most...  It only had to be fate that brought you two together.

“I really like you.” Gojo blurted out once you two parted.

“Do you mean that?” You asked him, slight insecurity peeking out from your otherwise hard shell. “I doubt you’ve met very many people in your life.”

‘‘Oh I have, but no one could compare to you sugar.’’ His lips attached to yours again, it’s like he was waiting for this moment his whole life.

¨S-satoru, wait!¨ He immediately stopped his actions, looking worried and for any kind of threat in you.

‘‘That wasn’t the surprise, you can try human blood again.’’

‘‘You got new blood bags? That’s amazing!’’ He was about to stand up from the couch when you stopped him sitting down on his lap, which made him froze.

‘‘I mean it's like… human, human. You can try my blood.’’

‘‘What?'' Silence passed.

''Are you sure? You’re not going to kill me or something right? I’ve seen those knifes you have in the basement and that could sure even kill Dracula.’’ You nodded and laughed at what he said.

He gulped, dark red eyes honing into the beating vein on the left side of your neck. He hesitantly bent down, nose to your neck as he took a big whiff of your sweet blood. He shut his eyes, fighting off the instinct to groan at just how good you smelled.

You chuckled at his reaction, ‘‘I mean it Satoru, this is me saying I like you too. I trust you.’’ With one more second of hesitation, he bit into your neck with his sharp fangs, and you felt a sharp pain. Your grip on his shoulders got tighter as you tried to distract yourself from the pain.

He couldn’t stop the moans of satisfaction at the magnificent taste of your blood, and you gradually noticed that something felt weird. You still felt the pain on the bite, but Gojo’s demeanor changed. It was almost as if he was enjoying it too much. His hands were grabby, not only on your hips, but in your waist and your bottom, and you gasped in surprise.

You started to notice what was going on when you felt how hard he was, his bulge pushing into your stomach.

¨’Toru…?’’ You breathed out, feeling light headed. He moaned, suddenly grinding his lower half into you. He then retracted his fangs, looking at you with wide, lust blown eyes, your blood dribbling down his chin.

“I’m s-sorry-“ He whined, placing you on the counter and rutting himself into you. “I’m so sorry, I-I don’t mean, to, I can’t help it-“ He broke out into an erotic moan, and despite how lightheaded and out of it you were, it aroused you to no end.

You assured him it was okay, looking into his eyes, you could find lust, but mostly embarrassment from it. You didn’t know that he could get this worked up from his own bloodlust, but you weren’t complaining. The only thing you had a problem with was the fact that there were too many clothes separating the both of you, but you didn’t think neither of you were in the right minds to seperate and take each article off.

“Can I be inside of you?” Gojo asked in between harsh breaths. “Please, please, please, I want to so bad-“ It was almost as if he was in pain, rutting into you so hard that you bounced on top of his lap each time. You nodded your head aggressively, opening your legs so you were caging his. You were wearing black leggings, and you thought that they’d be quick and easy to take off, but Gojo instead decided to rip them down the middle, doing so with ease.

“Satoru…!”

“Sorry! It’s just… I can’t take it any more baby..” He apologized over and over again, even as he released his cock from its confines, holding the thick base in between a shaky fist. He moved your panties to the side and slid in with one thrust. The both of you whined loudly at that, and he couldn’t wait any further before he started pounding into you with fervor. You heard the sound of your wet heat, but you didn’t care, mouth agape in a silent scream as he pounded into you with no remorse.

Well…some remorse. He couldn’t stop apologizing as he fucked into you, begging for you to forgive him for being so dirty and succumbing uncontrollable urges.

You yelped as he picked you up from the back of the couch, holding you in his arms as he dropped you on his cock over and over.

“Fuck!” You cursed. “M-more, more-“ You chanted, feeling his cock deep inside of you. You saw tears start to slide down his cheeks and he cried with pleasure. You clenched around him, wanting to see him unravel even more, which made him fuck you on his cock even faster, using you like a rag doll. His vampire strength had kicked in once he drank your sweet blood, something that he was afraid he’d get addicted on since he tasted you for the first time.

He was addicted to your warmth, your lips, your blood, and especially the way your pussy just sucked him in, holding tight and never letting go

“F-fuck, ‘toru, I’m cumming!” You moaned, your pussy convulsing around his cock and making him go crazy. You came around him, eyes rolling to the back of your head. He nearly slammed you into a wall, fucking you roughly, the slick from your cum making it easier to slide in and out of you.

You were extremely overstimulated, your abused pussy needing a break, but Gojo couldn’t stop. He let out nearly pornographic moans as he fucked you through yet another orgasm, not even noticing exactly what you were going through.

You just had to sit there, his cock inside of you, moaning his name again and again., taking just what he needed to give you.

“Oh fuck, (Y/N)-“ He whined, more tears spilling out of his eyes. You were out of it, dazed and cock drunk. “I’m gonna cum— ah!” He mewled out as he finally came, stilling inside of you as he filled you up. His legs shook as he shut his eyes tightly in pleasure.

After he finally calmed down, it was as if he returned to his senses. He quickly pulled out, immediately apologizing as you winced. He gently put you down, but your knees buckled, almost dropping to the floor, yet he caught you.

“(Y/N), I’m so sorry-“ He said, putting his softening member back in his pants. “I can’t believe I just did that to you, I really didn’t mean to, are you okay?“

“‘Toru, I’m fine.” You said to him, holding onto him tightly so you wouldn’t fall. You were still a bit lightheaded, but you were able to reassure him. “I didn’t expect it, but I’m really okay.”

“You shouldn’t have let me drink from you.” He said, tears still falling. “I’ve ruined everything, how could I get so out of-“

You interrupted him with a kiss to shut him up.

“Listen, ‘toru…” You said softly, the nickname making him calm down a bit. “You did nothing wrong. At all. I am more than fine. In fact…I really liked it.”

You watched as his ears got red. “Y-you liked…that? Did I not hurt you?”

You shook your head with a chuckle. “No. In fact…you made me feel really…really good.” You smiled, making him get even more flustered. “I’m just kind of tired. As good as you made me feel, you wore me the hell out.”

“I can carry you to your bed.” Gojo said, quick to pick you up. she then noticed your ripped leggings and destroyed panties. He gulped, feeling even more sorry. “And I can help you change into clothes that aren’t ripped…”

¨What if I tell you I want another round?¨

#gojo satoru x reader #satoru gojo #gojo satoru smut #gojo imagine #gojo satoru #jujutsu gojo #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutus kaisen #jujustu kaisen #jjk smut #jjk #request #gojo x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk fluff #gojo satoru x reader smut

[ditzycowgirl]

WHAT IS YOUR FUTURE SPOUSE LIKE?

If you do like the reading, be sure to like and share with your friends! Tipping is a very kind, yet optional gesture. Here is my ko-fi and I am open for paid readings if you'd like a more in depth answer to your questions! (Paid reading link)

If this doesn't apply to you, its ok. It's a general reading. Hope you like it!

…

Pile 1: Seashells

For those of you who picked pile one. I pulled: the 9 of pentacles, the fool, the chariot, the 7 of cups, and the knight of pentacles. I see two very contrasting energies, one very grounded, and the other is very free spirited (take it how it resonates, could be you or them) Or they have a certain duality to their personality. They seem very confident in themselves, they see an opportunity, and they go for it. They are so confident that they often wander into situations without much thought (what I got with the fool card) which could benefit them or it just doesn’t. I feel like they are easily influenced, so it’s hard for them to make their own decisions (7 of cups) I feel like when they meet you, they will try not to mess things up with you, and they will make a very slow approach to you (contradicting their free spirit nature) They will see you as a grand person in their best energy, and will try to grow up a little bit in terms of their energy not matching up to yours. I see this can be in financial terms or energetically because I pulled the fool for them (can be interchangeable) and the 9 of pentacles for you. I think they’ll be confused as to whether or not they’re the one for you, but it would become more obvious as time goes by for them. I get a childlike energy for them. (Not childish, but innocent)

…

Pile 2: Flowers

I see a LOT of action! I pulled the empress, the 8 of wands, the tower, the knight of swords, the 9 of cups, and the king of swords! (Extra card popped out) I feel like before you meet your future spouse, there will be two options (one will be astronomically better than the other person) because the king of swords appeared next to the 9 of cups (9 of cups trying to be just like the king of swords, it’s not) I feel like the “better” option (in your eyes, the king) will try to impress you? I see that your future spouse may be very fiery, they may like debate and is prone to starting fiery debates or arguments. They may be a person who boasts, yet is very fair, intellectual, and humble. They have achieved a lot in life and they like to put their “trophies” on display. I’m getting a specific message for some. They are either really good communicators (really talkative) or they are planning on reaching out to you soon (if you don’t know them yet) I see that they may be family oriented, regarding their mother or a mother figure, or sees you as very warm and abundant.

…

Pile 3: The Beach

I pulled the 2 of cups, the 10 of swords, the 4 of swords, the 10 of wands, and the wheel of fortune. Very mixed energy, I get that this person can be a bit over dramatic, like they put on a show. You never know what to expect with them (wheel of fortune) but they do have a heavy past (which I’m not going to elaborate on) but despite their acts, they do deal with a lot behind the scenes. They are very hard working, and sometimes bites off more than they can chew in terms of work load. They need to learn how to relax and let go sometimes, let things flow. They mean well, and they will honor this connection. I’m seeing that someone’s angels are bringing you two together. Fate will bring you two together. They are a peaceful person in nature. They value partnerships. I saw the number 101010. You are meant to know this person. I’m hearing that this could be a soulmate or twin flame (take it as it resonates) They could love to take naps. Knows how to pick themselves (and you) up when things are not going well for them (or you) Maybe shy since some cards don’t show their face (or they’re mysterious) I’m getting that (from earlier) they may put on a show to hide their dark past or feelings. Could be physically strong.

#tarot cards #free tarot readings #tarot online #free readings #divination #tarot readings #tarotblr #tarot deck #tarot reading #tarot community #pick a card #pick a card reading #pick a pile #pick a picture #pick a pile reading #pick a card readings #pick a photo #pick an image #daily tarot #love tarot free #tarot

[turbulentscrawl]

I love ur Frederick Headcanons!! Can we please get some sfw and nsfw hcs for him??

Happy holidays ;)

SFW

-Frederick is one of those partners who isn’t around a lot. He’s often wholly consumed by music and spends long hours sat at the piano. He keeps a private music room and is strict about people coming in when he’s working. He needs focus. He struggles with prioritizing anything over his music, especially when he’s obsessed with perfecting a particular song. This will a life-long struggle for Frederick, but it is something he’s willing to make an effort towards correcting when he’s in love.

-Refer to his general headcanons post for specifics about his disorders; he requires a lot of grace and accommodation in a relationship. It’s almost certain that you’ll be putting more emotional labor into the relationship because Frederick has to put so much into just regulating himself. He’s easily overwhelmed, and has an avoidant attachment style due to his communication skills breaking down when he’s frantic enough. The best advice I can give is to establish a plan of action with Frederick that you can use on his worst days to help him.

-He’s not a “fun” or “spontaneous” socialite. He’s tired of changing who he is for social settings, of pushing his looks and playing sweet to gain favor. He still has to sometimes…which is why he doesn’t like when his partner suggests activities that would also require it. He doesn’t even want to have get-togethers with your friends, though he is willing to meet them after you’ve been together for a while. He’s not keen on spending a lot of time with them, mind you, mostly because it reminds him that he doesn’t have anyone in his side of things to introduce you to.

-In line with the above, with the exception of performances and networking, Frederick is a homebodied introvert. His date night ideas are often set on your property. A picnic in your garden, maybe? Stargazing? When he has the funds, he likes to hire a private chef to come prepare a nice dinner for you both. He’ll occasionally invite you into his music room to play for you, as well. Any song you’d like! Even if he doesn’t like it. You’re always the first to hear his new songs, and he often dedicates new ones to you.

-Frederick isn’t a bad housemate to have, which is fortunate since he’s there so much. Because he was disowned by his family, he’s had to develop some skills people of his birth typically don’t. He helps with the chores, cleans, and is a fair cook. He still occasionally needs help with little things, but those are few and far between. He yearns to go back to the days of not having to do these things himself.

-Frederick likes when you give him the option of being the dominant partner. That is, he likes when you look to him for decision-making. He does his best to be fair and consider both your opinions, if they differ, and he feels that you deferring to him like that means you have faith in his judgement. This goes for little things too, like just asking him to order for you when you’re out for dinner.

NSFW

-Some of you may hate me for this…but I look at this man and think “foot fetish.” He’s certainly not a pervert about it, but you’ll notice over time that he compliments your shoes a lot (especially heels) and admires any pedicures you show off just a little too intensely. You’re in luck if you like a good foot massage because that’s a go-to foreplay for him. He’s not going to complain about some shapely legs, either.

-Frederick has a very slight oral fixation, too. He’s down for a bit food play as long as it’s not something too difficult to clean up, and he enjoys giving oral. He has a habit of humming songs while going down on his partner; he says it helps him keep a steady rhythm, but honestly who cares because the vibrations from that feel amazing.

-Aside from those, Frederick is pretty vanilla. Due partially to the amount of stress his mental illness causes, he’s not in the mood for sex as often as others. When he is in the mood, he’s more of a “make love” kinda guy. He likes to have romance, to set the mood. Foreplay tends to be several hours long with plenty of sweet flirting, gentle touches, and any other means of building anticipation. He’s not rough in the bedroom at all, and prefers simple, face-to-face positions like missionary.

-He’s always going to have some underlying fears of being used for his looks, so he prefers to be in charge in the bedroom. If you want him to submit to you, he can be convinced, but he needs a lot of reassurance as aftercare or else he’ll silently grow paranoid. (This is also why he’s such a romantic in the bedroom. He needs obvious reminders that love is involved in this act and not just lust.)

-Frederick loses track of time a lot and is used to isolating, but spending a longer period away from him is a sure-fire way to make him desperate for you. You’re going to be gone for a month to visit family? Well, no worries, he’ll be fine…until the last three days. Then, like a switch is flipped, he’s a man starved to the brink of death for his love.

#idv x reader #identity v x reader #frederick kreiburg x reader #idv composer #spicy content #turbulentscrawl

[quillyfied]

Okay. Making this post mostly for my own benefit but maybe some of y’all need to hear it too:

When there are days like today (or years like the past two to six years at least that we’ve been having) that start to change the fabric of society as we knew it, feeling angry and powerless is the first reaction and it’s a completely natural one. Your first order of business is to slow that emotional spiral, if you can, and if you can’t, reach out to a loved one to ride it out with. Distract yourself. However you need to, get the heart rate down and the anxiety to a manageable point.

Next step is to accept that as basically an average person, your ability to enact change on a massive national or international scale alone is…unlikely. Your sphere of influence is small. That’s okay. There are still things you can do for yourself, and equally importantly for your community.

If you have money you can spare that won’t deprive you of important needs to spend elsewhere (medicine, food, shelter, bills first): there are an overwhelming amount of causes that are always accepting donations. My suggestions based on today would be local abortion funds, food banks, bail funds, and international relief programs. You decide what is most important to you to donate to, and make a donation. Doesn’t have to be a recurring donation, even one-time donations help. Even those occasional grocery store or restaurant promotions where you can round up your meal cost to the nearest dollar and that change will go to a charity is a small way to make a contribution that does make a difference.

If you have time and energy: volunteer work could be for you. Look into your local food banks and homeless shelters and animal shelters and see if any of them are taking volunteers. If that’s a bit much, look at your community, your neighbors, your friends, your families. See if there’s a need you can fill, a chore you can do or an errand you can run or babysitting or pet sitting or just sitting and chatting and spending time with someone who doesn’t get many visitors.

If you have the bravery to contact strangers: start calling local and state representatives. Start causing a ruckus. Look up bills that Congress and state governments are considering and speak up to your representatives. This can feel meaningless, especially if you’re in a right-wing-dominated area. But every little bit helps. Encourage like-minded friends in the area to do the same. I think even ResistBot is still a good option, to my knowledge. And when the polls are open, if you’re able to then GO. That is the most powerful thing a citizen can do to make sure their voice is heard. I live in the Deep South, I know how futile it feels to have opinions contrary to the majority in your area. But you aren’t the only one who thinks the way you do and believes the way you do. Your vote, your voice, matters. It matters because it adds to the voices of people who think the same way you do, and a bunch of voices in unison is still louder than defeated silence, even if those voices are drowned out. Maybe someone heard you and will add their voice next time, make the unison stronger.

Change starts small. Burnout and fatigue and panic and despair are powerful but you aren’t meant to change the world alone. You don’t have that responsibility. Your responsibility is to do what you can to make your corner of the world a little better and a little brighter—however you can. Even if you’re just taking care of yourself because that’s all you have energy for, that’s perfectly okay. Even if it’s helping one person in whatever tangible or intangible ways available to you. Even if all you can do is cry. You’re still here. And if you’re here, you’re winning, and there’s a chance to do more tomorrow.

#in a nutshell: community is how we survive #always have. always will.

[mars-and-the-theoi]

Low energy Devotional Acts for when you don’t have a lot of energy (or time, or money, etc.)

💀Thanatos💀

- listen to a devotional playlist for Him

- listens to ‘dark ambient’ soundscapes

- learn about butterflies

- if able, visit a cemetery

- learn about the work that death doulas, hospice workers, funeral directors, morticians, cemetery caretakers, and grief counselors do

- if able tend to the grave of a loved one (tidy it up, bring new flowers/decorations, etc.)

- talk to deceased loved ones (doesn’t have to be anything fancy- I talk to my dead dog all the time I say good morning to him and when we leave I tell him we’ll be back etc. whatever you wanna tell them you tell them!)

- learn the stages of grief and how complex grief is

- if interested and able (I know this can be touchy) learn about the process of dying and what happens to the body after death

- learn about what you can have done to your body after death- there’s lots of interesting options out there! Burial at sea is still very much a thing that can be done, I didn’t know that until I got curious and looked this stuff up!

- if able and willing talk to your loved ones about what your wishes are for when you die- what do you want to happen to your body, what do you want your funeral to be like, etc. (I include this because I used to work in assisted living and nothing is worse than your family just not knowing what your wishes are for when you die, I’ve heard too many horror stories)

- learn about death magic and spirit work

- learn about the Victorian era spirituality craze (like the uptick in things like seances and all that, it’s all very interesting)

- learn about the many ways to communicate with the dead

- destigmatize death- death has become a very hush-hush subject which doesn’t really do us any favors in my opinion so don’t be afraid to talk about it, talk about your wishes, etc.

- learn about funerary practices throughout history and around the world

- learn about the meaning of death throughout history and around the world

- listen to songs about death

- read poems, books, plays about death- there’s a lot of them and they’re quite interesting

- watch movies/shows about death (my personal favorite is the seventh seal)

- if able and willing reflect on your own thoughts and feelings on death (can be death in general, about your own mortality, etc.)

- look up cemetery symbols and symbolism! And whenever able do a cemetery scavenger hunt

- wear black

- learn about how to help someone who is grieving

- listen to goth music

- be kind to spirits

- learn about haunted locations

- read ghost stories (idk if this counts but my personal favorite is The Legend of Sleepy Hollow)

💤Hypnos💤

- listen to a devotional playlist for Him

- listen to calming soundscapes

- learn about symbolism in dreams

- learn about the stages of sleep

- if able establish and practice good sleep hygiene

- learn about good sleep hygiene

- if unable (or you have a hard time sleeping) look up calming and quiet activities you can do instead

- listen to calming music

- if able make your bedroom into a cozy safe space

- learn about herbs and plants with calming and/or sleep inducing properties

- if able donate some bedding you don’t use anymore (even animal shelters will take some! Bedding is always in high demand in all sorts of places so if you’re needing to unload some this is the chance to do it!)

- learn about our sleep cycles and the circadian rhythm

- if you have young family members (kids, little siblings) tuck them in and/or read them a bedtime story

- if able slow down and rest

#low energy low effort devotional acts #cause we all have those times where we just need something simple #hellenic polytheism #helpol #hellenic pagan #hellenic pantheon #hellenic paganism #thanatos deity #Thanatos worship #hypnos deity #Hypnos worship

[lace-coffin]

Would love some headcanons/thoughts about a yautja and their autistic human life partner (platonic)!

Requests are open!

Thank u so so much for the request! First of all I’m super excited to write an autistic reader and hopefully incorporate some of my own autistic traits into it! I’m going to try explore how having a platonic mate may work in yautja culture < 3

Yautja x gn autistic partner (platonic)

Despite yautja culture having a big fixation on mating season and siring many children for a strong bloodline it isn’t compulsory and may be viewed differently between different clans.

One thing that remains the same between yautja clans everywhere is the connection between mates and the right to be with the one who makes you feel at home. This can be romantic/sexual or platonic!

You grew up in the village with your mate after your human clan came to a truce and started living close by to theirs, you often visited them to play even if your parents weren’t to pleased with it. You didn’t have much in common with the other kids in your village, it was like they could tell you were different in a way you could never place.

You’d rather play with the Yautja anyway. Their form of communication was more straight forward, no hidden expectations or false niceties, everything was laid out plain to see when it came to emotions and rules. If you wanted to play you could ask and if they weren’t in the mood that was ok, playing separately in the same space was always an option.

Gradually as the years passed you became basically inseparable, your families more comfortable with your friendship after so many sleep overs and sparring sessions in either parties houses.

When you both matured and eventually told your parents about being mates it was no surprise, honestly your parents and friends wondered why you hadn’t told them earlier, it turns out you and your giant scaly mate where the last to realise. Your loved ones were a little confused when you told them you were platonic mates but quickly accepted it once you explained what it was and that you’d never been happier than in each others company.

Headcanons!

You’ve always tended to get on better with the Yautja anyway so your partner was perfect for you! Not a race of many words in the first place there isn’t any pressure on you to verbalise, in the same way your mate is happy to listen if you fall on the other end of spectrum and never stop talking, loving the way your ooman dialect sounds to them. They’ll listen to you infodump as they tinker with a malfunctioning piece of ship technology, responding with interested trills and questions.

You definitely pick up vocal stims from them. Yautja have a big range when it comes to vocalisations, from chitters and clicks to full roars, you’re bound to find one that feels good to imitate on replay. Sometimes this can be extra comical to your mate if it means something out of context in their language. For instance you can be letting out angry chitters whilst happily washing the dishes and swaying to music. If you can’t get the hang of it due to your ooman vocal cords not having the right parts to do it then your partner will be happy to make the noise on request.

Furs! Furs are heavy, dense and soft. Your mate will gift them to you after returning from a hunt as a sign of affection. You love to run your hands over the sleek hair and rub your cheeks against it, relishing in the way it feels. Furs are usually pretty large and weighty, if you’re having a bad day or feeling particularly overstimulated then your mate may tuck you under multiple of them to ground you. This is a good alternative to using your mate for deep pressure, let’s be real they probably weigh 500+ pounds without armour and would crush you like a tin can.

If your special interest happens to relate to hunting or bones then your mate will be extra excited! They’ll bring you back different types of animal bone to work on/observe. Make bone jewellery with them and sell it at the markets, just don’t laugh at them to hard when they start snarling in frustration because their large hands can’t thread the bone properly.

If you have a limited pallet due to arfid or texture issues don’t worry, if anything it may be more convenient for them since they’ll know the best spots to hunt/gather your safe foods. If you like a lot of flavour there’s plenty of spices and plants you’ve never tried to explore. Your mate will be in bits on the floor whilst your eyes water from the heat of the new vegetable.

If you enjoy stimming with the rubbery texture of your mates dreads then they may let you play with them, smoothing your hands down them and flicking the gold trinkets wrapped around to hear the noise they make. Touching a yautja’s dreads is a very personal thing but it’s just another way they show their trust and comfort with you.

I hope you enjoyed this! I enjoyed writing it 💕

#slashers #slashers x reader #slasher x reader #slasher headcanons #predator #alien vs predator #predator x reader #predator x human #predator x you #yautja #yautja x reader #yautja x human #actually autistic #autistic reader #headcanon #headcanons